All language subtitles for Broken.City.2013.720p.BRrip.x264.GAZ.YIFY

(GROWLING)

(EXHAUSTED PANTING)

(SIREN WAILING)

MAN: What do we want?!
ALL: Justice!

MAN: When do we want it?
ALL: Now!

MAN: What do we want?!
ALL: Justice!

MAN: When do we want it?
ALL: Now!

- What do we want?!
ALL: Justice!

- When do we want it?
ALL: Now!

(CHANTING CONTINUES)

(FADING)

- Your Honour, it's murder,

even when the police do it.

Detective William James Taggart swore an oath
to protect and serve

the people of New York.

He shattered that oath.

The state will prove
that there is probable cause

to try him for the murder of Mikey Tavarez.

Thank you, Your Honour.

- Mr. Davies.
- Your Honour,

it isn't murder
when the other guy is shooting at you.

(MURMURS OF PROTEST)
It isn't murder when the other guy has a gun.

(MURMURS OF PROTEST)
(GAVEL BANGING)

OFFICER: Five three, one-twenty.

- What are we drinking, Chief?
- Nothing for me, sir.

- Huh. Civilization going to pieces.

Ah...

Oh! You know, there are...
a lot of men in this town

who would find it hard to trust
a man as respectable as you.

I am not one of those men.

Your boss, the police commissioner,
he's an asshole.

- I came to discuss the Taggart case, sir.

- What is there to discuss?
It won't even make it past preliminary.

- Well, maybe we should hope it does, sir.

Those 10,000 people on the courthouse steps
are gonna find it very hard to believe

that this wasn't murder, plain and simple.

- How's this for plain and simple?

There's one less homicidal rapist
walking the streets.

- Uh, Mikey Tavarez was found innocent
of those charges, sir.

- He walked on a technicality.

You and I both know
he raped and killed Yesenia Barea.

- The law says differently, sir.

- You always this much fun, Chief?

I think Billy Taggart is a hero.

And I like getting my photograph taken
next to heroes.

I also like winning Staten Island
without actually having to go there.

- A witness came forward this morning, sir.

- We are two minutes away
from the judge's decision.

- He came forward with evidence.

- Where is it?

- It's been temporarily misplaced.

- The witness?

- A kid.

- Is he legal?

Is his mother legal?
(CHIEF CHUCKLING SOFTLY)

We need to find out what he wants.

- Appears he wants justice, sir.

- Well, nobody gets that.
(RUEFUL CHUCKLE)

What do you want, Chief?

- I want what's best for the city, sir.

- It is the court's view...

that the state has failed...
(EXCLAMATIONS OF DISGUST)

...to present a clear case

for why the shooting should amount to murder
and not self-defence.

Therefore the defendant will not be held
to answer to these charges at trial.

He's free to go. Court adjourned.

(CROWD SHOUTING)

- Detective.

Sorry to interrupt.
Chief Fairbanks want to see you.

- Here's our guy.

How are you?
- Mr. Mayor.

- Billy.
- Hey, Chief.

- Sit down, Detective.

(CHUCKLES RAGGEDLY)
- What's this about?

- Sit down.
- Don't worry about the Chief.

We draw straws for "good cop, bad cop"
and he won.

- What, does he wanna interrogate me now?
- No.

No, no.
I just wanted to get in a room with you.

And I wanted to tell
you how proud I am of you.

You've done the city a great favour.

You, in my eyes: hero.

- Thank you.
- Here's the thing.

Some uncomfortable evidence
has come to light.

If it should come out...

...we will be fucked.

And it is a necessity

that we remain un-fucked.

So...

- You're done, Detective.

- Yesenia Barea was 16 years old, Chief.

- Mikey Tavarez was exonerated.
- Yeah, and they got it wrong.

- So you put it right.
- No, I'm not the bad guy, Chief.

Mr. Mayor...
- You keep telling yourself that.

- You see, Billy,
there's some wars you fight,

and some wars you walk away from.

- Mayor...
- This is not the fighting kind.

I have a long memory, son.

If you ever change your number...

...you make sure you let my office know.

RADIO: Mayor Nicholas Hostetler
is Wall Street's approved candidate.

At least that's the charge
coming from the Mayor's rival,

Councilman Jack Valliant,
who spoke to reporters earlier today.

- Hey! What the fuck you doin'?!
- Hey, what...?! Ah!

(GRUNTING AND GROANING)

- Hey, what the fuck's going on out here?!
- I don't... Take it easy.

- What's going on?
- This guy tried to attack me.

Motherfucker!

WOMAN: No, stop!

No! Please! No.

- Fucker.
(MAN GROANING)

Where's my camera?

Sweetheart, look at me for a second, please?

(MAN GROANING) Thank you.

Sonofabitch.

(GROANING)

WOMAN: (SOFTLY) "Just like in the beginning,

when no one would admit
something was happening."

"Never... happened, never...

happened."

(SNIFFING)
Big part, too disturbing...

Something...

Ay dios, Billy. Otra vez?

- Alright, alright.

- When are you gonna stop doing this, Billy?
- Stop what?

- Coming home
looking like a pack of bloody meat.

- I thought you liked bloody meat.
- I'm a vegetarian.

- Yeah, well,
you gotta get your protein somehow, right?

(WOMAN CHUCKLING)
- You're an asshole.

- Ow.
(WINCING)

So did you pick up your dress
for the premiere?

- Tomorrow.
- Am I gonna like this dress?

- I think you'll approve.

- Will Ryan like this dress?

- I dunno. I'm not familiar with his tastes.
- Come on, I see the looks he gives you.

- How come you see these looks
and I don't see these looks?

- Because you only see the best in people.
It's your fatal flaw.

- And what's yours?

- Not being able to see the best in people.

- Not even me?

- You're the exception, you know that.

- Well, I'm an actress.

Maybe I've got you fooled.
(TAGGART CHUCKLING)

- I'm a detective.

You couldn't if you tried.

RADIO: It's down to the wire,

with New Yorkers
set to vote in just eight days.

Our latest poll
shows Councilman Jack Valliant

pulling ahead in the race for mayor.
Let's go inside the numbers

and look at what a potential
Valliant administration could...

WOMAN: No, Tom, no, not a few weeks.
Months.

Simon Cowell was still on American Idol

when we did this job for you.
Well, what do you mean, what do I want?

What, am I speaking Latin here?
I want payment, Tom. Payment.

I want $5,500 dollars, is what...
Hello?

Hello?

Fucking crossdresser.

Hi. Gary Lyman's office, please?

Yeah, I'll wait.

- If that's your brother
calling collect again, Katy, I swear.

- It's called collections, Billy. Y'know,

because you don't like
to charge nobody up front.

- How's it comin'?
- Uh, you know that theory of yours

about never being broke
if somebody owes you?

We're broke. Hee-hee.

Yeah, no, I'm still holding.

Yeah.

- What is this?

- Some guy from Staten Island
said he's gonna find you and kill you.

- Call him back.
Tell him he owes me a camera.

- Oh. Oh, he just stepped out?

Oh, yeah, just now?

Okay, well... you tell him he's got
till the close of business today

to call Katy from Billy Taggart's office.

Or else I'm gonna tell his wife
he's been screwing his assistant

for the past 11 months, how about that?!

- Are you serious?
- Look, these people provoke me, Billy.

All day. You don't even know.

- This is a professional workplace, Katy.
- Yeah. Once more with conviction.

- How much have you cleared?
- Uh...

like... $1,800?

- Well, that's not bad.
How much is still outstanding?

- Forty-two thousand.

- Gimme the fuckin' numbers.
- Yeah.

- How about I fuckin' garnish your wages,
put a lien on your garage

until I've gotten every cent
of the eight grand you owe me?

Does that work for you?
- How about I pay you in instalments?

- Yeah, three instalments of 2,650.
First payment this Friday. Talk to Katy.

Jimmy. Hey, buddy.
It's Billy.

- What's up, Bill?
- Oh, just checkin' on you.

Hoping I can get that payment, buddy.
- Aw, well, y'know,

things have been a little slow here, y'know.

I've been, uh...
really going through some rough times.

WOMAN: How many times did you catch him,
literally with his pants down,

and I'm supposed to pay for his infidelity?!
- Well, you're the one that hired me, Amber.

That's the way this works.
- I'm supposed to foot the goddamn bill?!

How many times, Billy? Tell me that!

- Eight times, Amber,
for a total billing of $4,000. C'mon!

- Send him the invoice, then!
(DISCONNECTION)

MAN: Listen, Billy,
I'm not paying you a fuckin' dime.

- I want my fuckin' money!

- Yeah, you'll get it. Neveruary.

- What kind of man are you, Dave?

Because I tell you, Dave,
a man that doesn't pay his debts

is the worst kind of man there is.
Is that the kind of man you are?

- Okay, okay.
I can maybe get you half by Monday.

- Alright, half is fair, I can do half.
Talk to Katy.

- Hey, Dave. Katy.

So what time Monday, huh?

- I'm going to get some air.
- Okay.

Billy?!

Billy!

Phone!
- Take a message!

- It's the mayor.

- You seem nervous.

- Yeah, it's probably the bomb
I got shoved up my asshole.

Too soon?
- Councilman Valliant,

any comment on the Bolton Village sale?
- I think this is a sad day for New York.

I never thought I'd see a mayor of this city,
even this mayor,

stoop so low as to steal the homes
of 30,000 hard-working New Yorkers.

And I guarantee you
that I will not let this sale stand

when I'm elected mayor on Tuesday.

- Do you think the timing
of the mayor's announcement is political?

- Absolutely. I know it's political.

And that's not to say
that Nick Hostetler doesn't care,

because evidently he cares very deeply
about two things:

His own job and taking care of his buddies
on Wall Street.

- Do you have a message to the people
of Bolton Village, Councilman?

- Yes, I do. Help is on the way.

Come Tuesday,
you will have an ally in City Hall.

Vote your interests next week,
and we'll take this city back.

- Can't even get his numbers right.

Bolton Village is home to 37,512.
And you know what this deal means for them?

- Valliant seems to think
it means inevitable eviction, Mayor.

- Valliant thinks.

What it means is better service,
more attentive landlords,

somebody actually showing up
when the toilet is blocked

or the heat's on the fritz.

It means paint on the walls
and it means the windows fixed.

- Valliant says Solstein Donagan's
gonna jack up their rents,

replace 'em with yuppies.

- This is a great deal
for the people of Bolton Village,

and it's a great deal
for the city of New York.

- Do you think the announcement of this deal
will, uh, add to your poll numbers, sir?

(PHONE RINGING)
- Well, you know, Mike,

if the readers of the New York Post
want to reward competence,

who am I to argue with that?
Excuse me.

Yeah.

Well, obviously,
that was some attempt at humour.

No, call off the brigade. Bring him up.
Thank you.

Alright, Mike, get outta here.

Go and do the people's work.
- Good luck Tuesday, Mayor.

- Hey, hey, thank you.

Look - ahem - here's one for the car.
One for the wife.

And that one for the kid.
Put it on his school bag.

- Thanks, Mayor.
- Alright.

(BACKGROUND CHATTER)
- Mr. Mayor.

- Hey.

You know, Billy, we take threats
of terrorism very seriously around here.

- Right.
- Even from good Catholic boys like you.

(CHUCKLING)

I'm only kidding.
Look at you, lookin' all civilized.

- It's good to see you, Mayor.

- See this golden boy on your way in?

- Yeah, I caught a glimpse.

- Y'know, if I'm being honest,

ah... I find it faintly insulting.

- What's that, the fact that you're running
dead even with a nobody?

- Yeah.
You were always were more balls than tact.

- Hey, I don't know what came over me, Mayor.
I'm actually trying to reverse the trend.

- No, you shouldn't.
It's one of your strong suits.

Scotch?
- Uh, I'm on the wagon, thank you.

- Really?

What about if I just, uh, pour one for you...

and I'm gonna leave it between us
like a symbol, y'know?

- You gonna be able to put this guy away,
you think?

- I ever tell you about Johnny Ingrisano?
- I don't think you told me that one, Mayor.

- Every day, growing up in Queens,
this guy would pummel me at recess.

Every day.

What could I do? I was just a kid.

A couple of years ago,
I heard Ingrisano got in some legal trouble.

The kind of trouble another guy
could get himself out of easily.

So I got involved.

Now, he scratches his ass
without permission,

he spends a week in Rikers.

Jack Valliant reminds me
a lot of Johnny Ingrisano.

You ever do any hunting?
- Naw.

- You should try it.
You would be a natural.

And you'd love the dogs.

Y'know, women call men dogs.
They mean it to suggest

we're... somehow untrustworthy or disloyal.

But a dog is anything but.

And if men are dogs,

what the goddamn hell
does that make women?

You ever seen a bitch in heat, Billy?

She'll grind herself across the grass
to try and get at that itch.

And if she can find a way to sneak out
of the backyard, any dog'll do.

- I'm not sure I'm following you, Mayor.

- I need you to help me find the sonofabitch
who's fucking my wife.

- You think she's having an affair?

- I know she's having an affair.
(TAGGART CHUCKLING)

- Maybe you should call
the Post and confirm.

- She's smarter than that.

So is he.

He's like a goddamn phantom.

- Maybe he doesn't exist.

- I still want the pictures.

I wanna know who he is,

I wanna know where he's from,

I wanna know how big his dick is,
how long he lasts.

Where do they fuck,
in hotels or at his place?

I wanna know if he makes her come,
or if she fakes it with him, too.

And I wanna know everything
by election day.

- Why? What's it got to do with the election?

- New Yorkers, they've elected drunks,

crooks, Italians, homos,
Jews and blacks to that seat,

but they will not elect is some guy

whose wife is fucking some other guy
behind his back.

Now this... pussy, this Jack Valliant,

he may be too much of a lightweight

to use this story
if it comes across his desk.

But his staff will not hesitate.

- What if she doesn't see him
before next Tuesday?

- Then it's gonna be the easiest $50,000
you ever made.

Half now, half later.

- Half right now?
- Right this instant.

What do you say?
- I say yes.

- You get me what I need.
- I will, Mayor.

You consider it done.

- You can get my wife's schedule
from Valerie on the way out.

- Mm-hmm.

- Something wrong?

- When you called, I didn't think
it'd be for something like this.

- Yeah.

Neither did I.

Hey, Billy.

Welcome back.

- Thanks, Mayor.

RADIO: The local New York news time
is 7:52.

Public housing goes private...

- You got time for breakfast?

- Baby, have you seen my keys?

- On the table, by your hot-sauce collection.

So it looks like we can do L.A. in style.
I landed a pretty big contract yesterday.

I got some cushion now.
- Yeah? That sounds great.

I'm gonna text you all the details
for the cast dinner tomorrow.

Okay?
- No. No, no, no. I'm not going to that.

Those guys take that metrosexual shit
way too far.

I don't give a fuck you wanna be
a thespian or a lesbian. That's fine.

But when a grown man starts whipping out
a compact and a powder-puff for dinner,

that's no good.
- Can you pretend to be interested?

Just one night, baby, please?

It's not every day that your girlfriend
stars in her first indie film.

- If you ask me nicely.
- Can you, please?

- Yes.

Maybe put a little powder on me,
so I don't feel so left out.

- No.
- Okay.

But I feel uncomfortable around those people.
(WOMAN LAUGHING)

MAN: Ladies and gentlemen, the First Lady
of New York City, Cathleen Hostetler.

(LOUD CHEERING)

- We did it!
(LOUD CHEERING)

Equality has finally come to New York.
(CHEERING)

Some said that now wasn't the right time
to wage this fight.

Well, I say there's never a wrong time
to fight for what is rightfully yours.

(WILD CHEERING)

I say there is never a wrong time to stand up

to the bullies.
(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

Even if they’re powerful bullies.

Especially if they’re powerful bullies.
(WILD CHEERING)

That just makes the victory so much sweeter.

MAN: Yes, ma'am!

- And today we declare a victory.

(SCATTERED SHOUTS OF "YEAH!")

Today we declare,
with our hearts full and our heads high:

"This is my life

and I will love whom I damn well choose."

(WILD CHEERING) Thank you.

- Come on, buddy, show me your face.

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING) Shit.

Damn.

- You read the Times this morning?
- No, I did not.

I read the Post, like the rest of New York

- Interesting editorial.

- That rag is a glorified tabloid
for rich people.

- You're rich, aren't you, Nick?

Filthy rich...

...if recent events are any indication.

- Y'know, I heard your speech went down
like gangbusters last night.

- Mm.
- Like the opening night of "Mamma Mia,"

they say.
Queens doing back flips in the aisles.

- Mm. Somebody you know attend?

- You know who's really excited
about this new law?

- Who?
- Artie.

He says he's never written
so many prenups in his life.

You remember Artie?

- I think of him every day.

- You didn't mention the election last night.

- It was not the proper forum.

- Darlin'...

...it's election season.
(CATHLEEN SNORTING SOFTLY)

Every forum's the proper forum.

Act accordingly.

Bo!
(SNAPPING FINGERS)

C'mere.
(WHISTLING)

(DOG GRUNTING)
- Smile.

A little to the left.

(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKING)

- This is what you do all day?

Spy on beautiful women in swanky restaurants?

- Yeah, if you consider the finer bodegas
of Bensonhurst swanky.

- We should do this more often.
- Figured it was time you earned your keep.

- Does that mean I get paid this month?
- Yep. Soon as I see that phone bill.

- He's my brother. What do you want?

- Send him a phone card.

(CHUCKLING)
- Yeah, I should, right?

- He doin' alright?

- Y'know... Sing Sing ain't no place
for guys with good hearts.

Why'd the mayor call you, Billy?

- Ah, she's grabbing her things.

- Shit. What do I do?
- Calm down. Look at me.

Smile. Thatta girl.
Stand up, get your coat.

Just keep smiling and talking, okay?
- My heart is pounding, Billy.

- Purse.

C'mere. Beat her to the door.

Then get across the street so you can cover
whichever direction she goes.

Call me when you got her.
- Okay.

- Alright, you're my eyes. What do we have?
- Uptown on Madison,

towards 45th. She dumped the friend,
picked up her bodyguard.

- Alright, keep at her pace.
No more than two bodies between you, okay?

- She's on the phone. She just took a call.
- Blackberry?

- It's a flip phone.
- Alright, I need you to get in closer, okay?

Get me a name, Katy.
A place, a time, something, anything.

- Okay.
CATHLEEN: No, no, no, I...

I understand.
So, uh, what time, darling?

I'll be there.
- It's him, Billy. She's arranging a meeting.

- Alright, I got her.

Yeah.

I'll be there soon.

Alright, go.
- Ma'am?

Ma'am! Sorry, it's-i-i-it's yours.
I think you dropped this.

- Yes, thank you.
- Ah, you're welcome.

Looks like she's going to the Roosevelt.
Should we follow her?

- No, she's gonna figure out
we were here soon enough.

We need to find out
who this number belongs to.

If he drives a Lexus, we got our guy.

- Welcome back to the Roosevelt,
Mrs. Hostetler.

- Thank you, Kenny.

KATY: I got him.
- You got him?

- Oh, I got him. And it's good, Billy.

- How good?
- Ugh... wondrous good.

- Wondrous?
What, they teach you that at DeVry?

- I go to Hunter, asshole.
- Oh!

Pardon me!
- It's a sophisticated place, alright?

I got sophisticated friends.
We read books. We drink wine.

- Really? Are you old enough to drink?

- Be surprised what I'm old enough to do.
- Hey, easy, okay?

- For example, I'm old enough to vote.

And it might come of some interest,
when casting my ballot,

to know
that Jack Valliant's campaign manager,

a guy named Paul Andrews,
is fucking the mayor's wife.

- Bullshit.
- And he drives a Lexus.

- This is good.

- It's borderline orgasmic, Billy.

- Did you learn that at Hunter, too?

- Wouldn't you like to know?

- This is not gonna go over good
with the mayor.

That is a cold bitch.

PA: Your attention, please.

All luggage and parcels
must be attended at all times.

Any items left unattended...
- Montauk. Round trip. Peak.

-... will be removed by and subject

to search by the M.T.A. Police.
- Thank you.

- Thank you for your cooperation.

(BELL RINGING)

- Whoa!

(PANTING)

How you lookin' against the kid?
- The numbers are holding steady.

- Steady?
- Yeah.

- What the fuck does that mean?
- Steady is a prelude to a shift. Okay?

- In what direction?
(MAYOR PANTING)

- The incumbent, Sam.

Always to the incumbent.

- Really?

- Ah!

- Ah-hah!

A little slow, Nick.
- Yeah?

You just watch your ass,
I'll take care of mine.

- Yeah, I'm beginning to wonder if you can.
- It's like Griffith and Paret... in '62.

Emile Griffith and Benny Paret,
you remember that?

- Yeah.
- So the kid is Paret, I'm Griffith.

- You mean you're the fag?

- I am Griffith minus the fag angle.

I'm holdin' back.
I'm making him think he's got it won.

And then comes the twelfth round, Sam.
You remember that?

- Yeah.

- The kill shot.
(SNICKERING)

(SAM SIGHING WITH ANNOYANCE)
- Fuck you.

So, Nick...

...I've got a half a million sunk
in your campaign...

...and a lot more riding on the result.

So...

why don't you just tell me
how you're gonna win this thing.

- We have dirt dropping on the news desks
of every paper and every network...

across this city tonight.

- Will it stick?
- No, it won't stick, it's all bullshit.

But it will smudge.

And that'll get the undecideds
thinking again,

and Sunday night at the debate,
I will put him away.

- Well, you better, Nick.
(SIGHING)

You just better.

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

(BACKGROUND CHATTER)

- You know who you're voting for?

- Nah, don't think I'll make it to the polls.
I usually try to vote for president, but...

- President doesn't determine
the quality of life in Brooklyn, no?

- How'd you know I was from Brooklyn?

- You just told me you were from Brooklyn.

I'm in the business
of picking up on these things.

- What are you, a private eye?

(ANDREWS CHUCKLING)
- No. Private eye?

Private eyes still exist?
(CHUCKLING)

- So what do you do, then?

- I'm in politics.

- So who do you recommend?
- Oh, I recommend the new guy.

- Ah, come on, he's too clean.
New York's this big, messy place.

- Well, does it have to be?
- No, I mean, it could be better, of course,

but it's been pretty good
the last few years under Hostetler.

- So what do you do, then?
- I work sanitation.

- You clean up pretty well for a garbage man.

- I'm just doing it to impress a lady.

- Ah, it's always a lady.

Local 831?

- Yeah, 15 years.
- Fifteen years.

You own a home?

- In New York?
- Exactly.

So why is it that you, a union man -
and I take it a native New Yorker -

why is it that you don't own
your own home in the city?

Yet every Bernie and Gordon who get off
this fuckin' train with an MBA

and low to no scruples, they own one.

They own one in the city
and one on the island.

So where is yours?

I'm just saying.

- So you own a house out here?
- No...

(CHUCKLING) No.

No, don't get me wrong, I like the water
and the sand and the grass, but no.

The only thing better than getting outta
that damn city is going back to it.

Nah, just about everything and anyone
I love is in that city.

PA: The next and final stop
will be Montauk.

All passengers must depart the train
at Montauk.

Please be sure to gather all...
- Nice talking to you.

- Yeah, you, too.

(CELLPHONE RINGING)

(INDISTINCT DIALOGUE)

Oh, shit.

(PHONE RINGING)

(RINGING)
KATY: Taggart Agency.

- Were you on the other line?
- No, I'm trying to save your business.

- Y'know, I don't get to say this too often,
but you were right.

- Really?

- The mayor's wife
is fucking the campaign manager.

- Told you.
- Call the mayor,

tell him I got some pictures.
- Okay.

- And stay off the fuckin' phone.
- I wasn't a...

(MELLOW HIP-HOP MUSIC)

- Ryan, I wouldn't even be in this movie
if it wasn't for you.

So thank you. That was really sweet.
- Mm.

This guy right here,
we got a real civilian here.

C'mon, William, tell us.
Wh-what do you do, uh...

- I-I don't do anything important.
I take pictures. It's... very boring.

- Oh, shit.
You're not paparazzi, are you?

(LAUGHTER)
- No.

I actually, uh...
mostly stick to real people, so...

- Billy is a private investigator.
He used to be a cop.

- Get outta here. You serious?
- Is that how you two met?

You promised not to write her a ticket
if she goes out with you.

(LAUGHING)
- Yeah, something like that.

- Well, details, details, tell us everything.
- Come on, Billy, details.

How'd a guy like you end up
with a girl like Natalie?

- A guy like me?
- Ah, I can't imagine

you were too big on the theatre.
- This is you guys' party.

Let's talk about your movie.
I'd rather hear about that.

- No. No one leaves this table
without singing the blues, Billy.

Natalie, you gotta pick up the slack here.
How did you meet this charming guy?

- Billy was a friend of the family.
- Ah, so you guys lived

in the same neighbourhood, or...?
- He worked by where I lived.

- So you fell in love
with the neighbourhood policeman?

C'mon.

- We were just a bunch of broke Puerto Ricans
that nobody gave a damn about.

And Billy was good to us.
- Barrow?

Is that Puerto Rican?

- It's actually Barea.

- Nat... Natalie Barea.

- Natalia.
- That actually has nice little ring to it.

- Yeah.
- Okay, you changed it

so you could play more Anglo?
- No.

I changed it because...

I was tired of going into auditions

and the first question
out of the casting director's mouth

was if I was related to Yesenia Barea.

- Who's that?

- My sister.
- Is she famous or somethin'?

- Yeah. Her face was in all the papers
about seven years ago.

- Nat. Please, don't...
- Beautiful 16-year-old girl

found raped and beaten to death
in an abandoned apartment in Bolton Village.

Billy was good to us.

It was a really hard time and...

...he made it better.

(DISTANT SIRENS)

- Well, sure, that's because you like
to accuse anyone who doesn't agree

with letting the rich off scot-free
of engaging in class warfare

when in reality you know full well
what real class warfare is:

stealing the homes of working people
in Bolton Village,

and handing them over at a cut rate
to an investment bank.

That, sir, is real class warfare.

- Well, maybe where you grew up
in Connecticut,

$3 billion is considered cut-rate,

but here in New York City,

$3 billion is considered a lot of money
that can solve a lot of problems.

- All due respect, you don't solve problems
by bending over for billionaires.

- Oh, I may bend over for billionaires,
but, you know what?

You come from a long line of 'em.

And, by the way, how are the renovations
coming on that $4 million townhouse of yours

over in Brooklyn Heights?
- You want my house, too? Take it.

I'm upside-down on my mortgage
like the rest of this city.

Because the system has been rigged
by men like you.

- Fuck, that's good.
- Yeah?

- I like that. You make that stick,
you pull undecideds off the fence.

- Okay.
(SIGHING)

Alright. We need that moment. Paul.

You know that, uh, "Senator,
you are no Jack Kennedy." That moment.

And it's got to be Bolton Village-related.

- I'm telling you, it's good.
You stick to the issues,

people will see the difference
between the two of you.

- It's not clean enough, Paul.

It's gotta be clean-cut.
He's got this clear line of attack on me.

I'm the rich Connecticut carpetbagger.
What the hell is he?

- He's out of a job come Tuesday
if you stick to the fuckin' issues.

- You're missing the point!
He's a crook!

I need to be able to hammer that home

when he taunts me and pokes at me
about my family money,

Harvard and all the rest of it.
I need to be able to lay his fat ass flat!

You, sir, are a crook and a liar!
And if he tries

to challenge me to prove it,
I pull out that glorious piece of paper

you said you'd provide
and I start reading out loud.

- Let's take 10.
Can I talk to you for a minute?

Alright, so what's your problem, Jack?

- The Daily News is my problem, Paul.

The Post, the Times, they're all the same.
Pick one.

We got Hostetler backing up
a dump-truckload of shit on me

and our campaign's coming up with piss-all
by the way of pushback.

I thought that's what Montauk was all about.
What happened to that source of yours?

- I'm working on it.
- So that's why you disappeared

for nine hours yesterday?
- He kept us waiting.

Kept us on the hook. I told you.
- You came back stinking of booze.

- I had a fucking cocktail, sweetheart.
- So where is our pushback, then?

- Our pushback are truth and facts, Jack.
That's how we play.

- Where are our headlines?
That's all I wanna know.

- I'll tell you something.
We don't need headlines, Jack.

We don't need headlines,
because we're winning.

Even their internal polling
has us up by three.

You're winning on your own fucking terms.

But let me tell you something,

you go onto that debate stage
and you try to win that debate

by going negative blow to negative blow,
he'll fuckin' destroy you.

Understand that.

- Glad you got so much faith in me, Paul.

- I'm all faith, you smug sonofabitch.

Why don't you try having some?
- Just do me a favour.

Just do your job.

Just get me that file.

- Yes, sir.

(SLOW JAZZY MUSIC)

- Hey, Murdock.
Save some for the rest of us, will you?

- Mm, Billy, God, holy shit.

What are you doing here?
- I was in the neighbourhood.

- Yeah, me, too.

- You club a herd of penguins for that getup?
- This number? What can I say?

Private sector's been good to me.
- Oh, you a shamus?

- Nah, security.

See that kid over there?

That's T odd Lancaster. That's my charge.

Rich kid.
Pop tears down buildings for a living,

wants him to run the business one day.

I'm making sure he stays
on the straight and narrow till then.

- How you doin', Mr. Mayor?
- Tony, how are you?

Harris, come and say hello.

This is Harris Sargent,
SVP at Solstein Donagan.

Helped me push through
the Bolton Village deal.

Four billion dollars
we beat out of this poor bastard.

- Hi, Mr. Sargent. Good to see you.
You remember my son, Todd?

- Todd.
- If you do, you get a prize.

- Todd, when are you gonna
do the world a favour

and take the business from your old man?
- When I die and he grows a pair.

(LAUGHTER)
- Oh, shit.

- Some fuckin' party here, huh?

- I'd rather be home watching the Knicks.
- Do what, lose?

This is the best game in town, babe.
You got the commissioner over there.

It's the worst-kept secret on earth,
him and the mayor can't stand each other.

But the commish don't miss a party.
It's like watching Italian opera, them two.

- What the hell do you know about opera?

- Just 'cause I don't understand
the language,

don't mean they ain't out
to fuck each other.

Alright?
- Suite 5101, Mr. Taggart.

I'm told it's urgent.

- Excuse me.

- In the neighbourhood, my ass.

- May I offer you a drink, Mr. Taggart?

- I don't drink.

- But you used to. I can tell.

- How?

- By those three seconds you let pass
before turning down the drink.

How long has it been?

- Seven years.
- Good for you.

Finally hit rock bottom, huh?

- I did it to keep a woman.

- Then you do believe in love.

- I believe in lovin' the one you're with.
- Hmm. What are you,

stupid or Catholic?

- Both.

- To your health, Mr. Taggart.

- Well... perhaps you could explain
what I'm doin' up here?

- Being tailed is exhausting.

If I might pry for a moment, how much
are you being paid for your efforts?

- Which efforts are those?
- The work you're doing for the mayor.

I'll give you $50,000

to give it up.
- Well, that's very generous,

but I got a contract with the mayor.
- Break it.

- You don't break contract with the mayor.

- Don't I know it.
- Why don't you just leave him?

- This is not what you think it is,
Mr. Taggart.

- I take pictures, Mrs. Hostetler.
I don't get paid to think.

- If the last seven years of your life
mean anything,

if that woman you put down the bottle for
means anything... walk...

away.

Because if you think
you're investigating adultery,

Mr. Taggart, you don't know
Nicholas Hostetler very well.

- I see you've met Billy.

- Yes, we met.

- Did he tell you
he's doing some work for me?

- He mentioned it.
- Did he mention it was exclusive?

- Yes, he did.

- You used to know what exclusive meant,
dear.

In this case, it means I worked for it...

...keep your grubby little paws off it.

- Poor Nicky.

You never did learn how to share, did you?

Well, don't worry...
I'll teach you before it's too late.

- Careful, dear.

- You, too, darling.

Mr. Taggart, please take care.

- I need a drink.

What have you got for me?

- Actually, Mayor,
I think I need a few more days.

I'm pretty sure I got things nailed down,

I just wanna take another 48 hours
to confirm.

- You have an envelope... of photographs
in your pocket.

That I paid for. Right?

Right?

Burning a hole in your bleeding heart?

Good work.

Alright, Billy, we're done.

(SHOUTING AND CHEERING)

MAN: Hey, Ryan, you excited tonight?
WOMAN: Ryan!

(REPORTERS CLAMOURING)

- Whoa!
(LAUGHING)

Whoo!

(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

MAN: You go, Natalie!

WOMAN: Yeah, Natalie! Whoo-hoo!
(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

- I love the line
between the sky and the water.

You see how it gets darker
the farther it is away,

and it's just a line

separating sky from water.

(SIGHING)

He's religious.
I get it, he's gotta have hope.

He's gotta have something to believe in.

- Why do you have to bring him up?
What does it matter?

Not everything in this life
is black and white.

(SIGHING)
Let's not talk about him anymore.

- Let's go.

(HEAVY BREATHING AND MOANING)

- Ah!

(MOANING)

(HIP HOP PLAYING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

MAN: Kiss of Life!
ALL: Kiss of Life!

(CHEERING)
MAN: Sundance, here we come!

- Alright.
- Pretty trippy. Like it?

MAN: It's beautiful.
NATALIE: Really?

(GROANING)

- Excuse me.
- Yeah?

- Can I get a double Jameson, please?
- Yeah, you got it.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(CHEERING)
TAGGART: Again.

- You want a water back for that?
- Just pour the fucking drink, please.

Thank you.
(SIGHING)

- Billy, what are you doing?

- Hey, Nat, I just...

I just didn't wanna be the only one
not celebrating.

- Billy, don't do this.
- It's a party, right?

And what a fucking movie that was, Nat.
I mean, my God, I never seen you that good.

I mean, that was incredible.
You were so convincing.

- Excuse me.
Can you take this drink back, please?

- Please, okay? I'm fine.
- Billy, don't!

That's enough.
- What?

What?
- You promised me, Billy.

How can you hurt me like this?
- How can I hurt you?

You haven't once asked me how I'm feeling...
- This is not your night, Billy.

I've worked so hard for this.
It doesn't mean anything to you, does it?

You know, why don't you go do a line, too?
Go back to being the old Billy,

'cause everybody knows
what a great guy he was.

I'm gonna go hang out with my friends.
- You mean Ryan?

What, d'you fuck him?
- Don't do this.

- Fine. I'll go ask him myself.
- Billy.

Just go home. Please?

- Tell me the truth
or I'll start breakin' shit.

- There's nothing left for you to break.
- Tell me the truth.

You told me it was gonna be artistic,
some simple love scene.

- I can't do this anymore.
- You can't do this?

What the fuck does that mean?!
- We're in pieces.

We've always been in pieces.
- I'm taking you home. Now!

- Are you not listening to me?
- No, I'm not listening, Nat!

And you're not leaving me, not here,
not for this bunch of fuckin' assholes!

- I can't.
- Nat. Please.

Natalie.

I'm sorry.

- There's nothing left between us, Billy.

- Don't say that. I'm sorry.
- Nothing.

We've had a dead girl holding us
together for seven years.

It's just not enough anymore.

- How could you say that?

Natalie, ple... I'm sorry.
- Nat, you alright?

- Yeah.
- Billy, stop it! No!

(GASPING) Let him go.

Billy, please, please.
- Fuckin' actor.

Yeah, you fucked him.

(HORN HONKING) Aw, what the...

What the fuck are you doing?

Wait a second. What the fuck?

(BARKING)

(PANTING)

Y'know what?
I've wasted my fuckin' money!

And I waste my fucking time!
(CAR ALARMS BLARING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(CELLPHONE RINGING)

Natalie?

Katy, I can't talk right now.

What?

Katy, don't fuck with me.
What are you saying?

Shit.

(DISTANT SIRENS)

DISPATCH: Reports of multiple gunshots
in the vicinity of Jane and Washington.

One victim reported.
Medical assistance is en route.

COP 1: Stand back. Right behind the line.
COP 2: Please, everybody, stay back.

- Thank you.
TAGGART: Hey, Tony!

JANSEN: He's with me.
- Okay.

(INDISTINCT POLICE-RADIO CHATTER)

- Thanks for doing this, Jansen.
- You got it.

We get the first call just after one.
Report of gunshots.

Six more calls inside a minute, all 2-11 s.

First units arrive
around three minutes later,

he's already good and dead by then.
- What's it look like?

- Well, so far, so good on robbery.
He didn't have a wallet on him,

but his apartment's right here,
so maybe he left it inside.

We're working on getting the landlord
down here to let us in.

- Any cash when you found him?
- No keys, no cash.

Like I said: so far, so good on robbery.

So when's the last time, uh,
you seen one of these?

- You're not really thinking robbery?

- No, we're spinning robbery.

Media's pushing robbery.
It's a counterfactual robbery.

Now it's your turn, Taggart.
What the hell's this got to do with you?

- That's funny, Billy.

I was just about to ask you that
my damn self.

Stay with me, Billy. This is what I got.

I got a former-NYPD-detective-
turned-private-eye

at a fundraiser for the mayor.

His mother's life depended on it,

he couldn't find the money
to afford a ticket to this thing.

That's Thursday.
Then - this is the good part -

24 hours later, at the murder scene
of the man running the campaign

to unseat the mayor,
whoo, imagine,

that very same private eye.

Explain that to me, Billy.

Is this Hostetler?

Is this what you gave him last night?
You gave him Andrews?

- I gave him pictures.
- You gave him pictures.

Of who? Who were the pictures of?

- His wife.
- His wife and who?

- Oh, I can't tell you that.
(FAIRBANKS LAUGHING)

- You better start telling me something.

Explain to me what you're doing
at my crime scene.

- I was in the neighbourhood.
- You were just in the neighbourhood.

Paul Andrews is dead!

What, you think you're gonna piss on him
and walk away?

This is an execution.
This is a fucking assassination.

Did you finger Andrews?
This what you do now, Billy,

you set up executions?
- Fuck you.

- Fuck me?
- Fuck you.

I took a job, Chief. I didn't ask questions.
I gave him pictures and I walked away.

Oh, you think I gave him up to get murdered?

- I think you're too damned smart to think
you were setting him up for anything else.

- Fuck you! I did my job!
- No.

You fuckin' knew.
- I did my job.

COP: Commissioner.
- Get outta here.

Let me tell you something, Billy.

I'm taking Hostetler down.
(TAGGART SCOFFING)

He sees election day,
it'll be from inside a cage like a monkey.

Now, you either help me,

or you'll be in there
with him sucking on bananas, too.

What?

- Commissioner, there's an issue.

- Something up, Commissioner?

- You're on the door, Detective.
Nobody gets in here.

- All due respect...
- You're on the fucking door.

(TAKING DEEP BREATHS)

Now, Jack...

What happened tonight, Jack?

(PANTING)
Don't worry about him, he's with me.

(PANTING HEAVILY)

VALLIANT: Everyone's with you.

(PANTING)
- I need you to look at me, Jack.

Talk to me, okay?

Put the whiskey down, Jack. Okay?

(PANTING HEAVILY)

Okay, Jack?

(GLASS BREAKING)

(SOBBING) Okay.

You need to straighten up, Jack.
Lock the door.

It's gonna be okay, Jack.

Just tell me exactly what happened.

- Y'know, you're not a real cop.

You're just a whore.

(OPERA PLAYING LOUDLY)

- We're gonna go for a walk
and get some fresh air.

It'll make you feel better, okay?
Don't worry about that guy.

- I wanna help you, Jack.

But I have to know what happened;
we don't have a lot of time.

I need you to talk to me, you understand?

- I'm done talkin' to you.
Fuckin' whore. Fuck you!

- You're talking,
but you're not making a lot of sense.

Clear his mind, Billy.

- No!!

(SCREAMING UNDERWATER)

- Okay.

- He went, um...

...downstairs to meet...

Todd Lancaster...

Called earlier and...

...he told Paul he was ready to...

to talk.

He said he was ashamed of himself

for helping us.

But he was, um...

...he was more ashamed of his father and...

he just wanted it to stop.

I think Paul lost track of time...

...'cause he looked at the clock
and he, um...

...just ran downstairs.

That was the...

...the last time I saw him.

- Did you hear any voices outside?

An altercation, maybe?

- No.

Just the shots.

(SHIVERING)

I knew I c-couldn't go out there,

I knew I... couldn't call the police,

couldn't be seen here.

I knew everything I couldn't do.

Jack Valliant, candidate for mayor...

...couldn't do.

FAIRBANKS: You know what this means, Jack?

- Yeah, it means I let him lie out there.

It means I let him die alone.

- It means you can handle this.

Look at me, Jack.

You are gonna be the next mayor
of New York City.

You've gotta handle this.

Now, you go get dressed,

find yourself a hat and a coat with a collar,

and we are gonna get you outta here
real quiet.

(CELLPHONE RINGING)

Yeah.

Right.

You've gotta get him outta here.

I'm on my way.

- How involved are you?

- It's complicated.

You should give me a day
to gather my bearings. We'll talk.

(INDISTINCT POLICE-RADIO CHATTER)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

- What a fucking mess.

- A tragedy, sir.

- The press are gonna want heads to roll
over this.

- I beg your pardon, sir?

- You know how it goes, Commissioner.

You either give 'em an arrest,
or we give them a resignation.

- Then we'll have to give 'em an arrest.

RADIO: Tragedy in the West Village.

Paul Andrews, campaign manager
for mayoral candidate Jack Valliant,

was found shot to death overnight
outside his Jane St. apartment.

Police questioned witnesses
well into the morning,

but no suspects have been detained.

Police Commissioner Carl Fairbanks,
a personal friend of Andrews,

says the investigation will receive
the department's highest priority.

We've got a report
from the 10th St. Station...

- He was a better man than me.

He should've been mayor.

- You and Andrews, you were, uh...

together?

- There's this quote I remember.
I don't know where I heard it.

I just always remember it.

Maybe something I read in undergrad.

"And it's just not popular, or safe...

...to say that I loved him."

(REPORTERS CLAMOURING)
- Mr. Mayor,

have you spoken to Councilman Valliant?
- I have.

I reached out to the councilman
this morning.

I offered him
not only my deepest condolences,

but also my personal assurance
that we will do everything we can

to bring the perpetrators of this crime
to justice.

(CLAMOURING)
- Mr. Mayor, did you know Paul Andrews?

- I only met, uh, Mr. Andrews a few times.

He always struck me as a very genuine man,

a very hardworking man.

He loved this city, he loved the people.

He and my wife actually were, uh...

good friends.

So this definitely hits home.

(CLAMOURING)
Thank you all. Thank you all very much.

-... what kind of man Paul Andrews was?

- Hang on a minute.
- Well, he was...

the kind of man who loved
and... and fought with his whole heart.

He was a dear friend to all of us,

the driving force behind the success
of this campaign.

He'll be dearly missed.
- This must be an extremely difficult time.

Have you considered
suspending your campaign?

- No, absolutely not.

The debate will continue
as scheduled tomorrow.

The, uh, election on Tuesday.

We refuse to allow some thug
to prevent this city

from exercising its democratic rights.
Thank you.

(CLAMOURING) (TV OFF)

- Paul Andrews definitely wasn't fucking
the mayor's wife.

We're looking for a guy
named Todd Lancaster.

Just find me what you can on him,
and... Bolton Village;

dig up whatever you can on the sale.

- Okay. I'm on it.

Billy.

You know it's not your fault.

(SIGHING)

- Gotta go.

(DOOR SLAMMING)

MURDOCK: Sir, he just walked
into Bolton Village.

Yes, sir.

CHILD: Daddy!
(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

JANSEN: Drop the gun, Mikey!
Drop the fucking gun!

TAVAREZ: I didn't fucking do nothin'!
Yo, chill, man, what the fuck, man?!

TAGGART: It's okay, Mikey,
we just wanna talk.

(SOFT, DRAMATIC MUSIC)

- Billy, hey.

Oh, Billy! Come in, come in. Hi!
- Hola.

- Where is Natalia?

- Actually I came alone, Mrs. Barea.

She's just been really busy lately
with the movie.

- Ah, yes, the movie.

(SIGHING)
Natalia sa quita la ropa, como una puta.

Raul, mira quien es a qui.
(LAUGHING)

- Como esta, Senor Barea?
- Hi, Billy.

Good to see you.
- You, too.

- How are you, man?

- Billy, quiere un café?
- Uh, mucho gusto. Gracias.

- Okay.
(RAUL SPEAKING SPANISH)

- Good to see you.
(RAUL CHUCKLING)

- So...

what brings you back
to the old neighbourhood, huh?

- Uh, that's a good question.
I'm not really sure.

- Nostalgia can be hard to explain.

(CHUCKLING)
- Yeah.

- Hey, is everything...

all right between you and my daughter?

- Yeah.
- Yeah. Good.

- Why'd you stay here, Raul?

(SCOFFS)
Wh-wh-where would we go?

- Anywhere. I never got it.
Natalie never got it.

How could you just stay here?

- Oh, I-I-I-I could never leave
my Yesenia behind.

- She's gone, Raul.
- No, Billy, no, no, no.

She is here.

Look, I know how much you gave up
that night.

But you... also gave us peace.

And you...

gave Yesenia justice.

Huh?

And I can't begin to tell you how much...

that means to me, and to my... my wife.

Gracias.

- So, Billy...

...have you seen this movie?

- Raise your arms.

- Kevin. Give us a few moments.

- Thank you for meeting me, Mrs. Hostetler.
- What do you want, Mr. Taggart?

- I wanna know what's going on.

- Oh, you want to know what's going on?
You couldn't care less the other night.

Paul Andrews was my friend, Mr. Taggart.

Do you understand that?

My very dear friend.

And if you weren't such a cut-rate dick,

maybe he would still be alive today.

But you are cut-rate.

You're cheap to hire
and you're cheaper to throw away.

I gave you the opportunity
to do the right thing and you refused.

- You're right. And I'm sorry
about your friend, Mrs. Hostetler.

But your husband set me up.

And I'm gonna destroy him for it.

I need you to understand that
and I need you to know

that I'll do whatever it takes
to bring that sonofabitch down.

But first you have to tell me,
what's going on?

- You weren't hired to look for my lover,
Mr. Taggart.

You were looking for my source.

I discovered some information

about the mayor a while back.

If it was ever brought to light,
it would ruin him.

I offered him a deal:

I get a divorce, a reasonable settlement,

he gets my silence.

- He didn't take the deal.

- No. He hired you.

It was Paul.

Paul gave me the information.

He thought by sharing it with me,

he would help me in my situation
and I could help him

by looking into it from my side.
- Looking into what?

- The Bolton Village sale.

Four-billion dollars
is a helluva lot of money

for a few city blocks of housing projects,
Mr. Taggart, wouldn't you say?

- Yeah.
- It's worth twice that.

He's a dangerous man, Billy.
- No.

He only knows people that kill people.

(PHONE RINGING)

(RINGING)

What do you got, Katy?
- I got a hit on Todd Lancaster.

He works for his father Sam's
construction and demolition company

called the Rochway Group.
Sam...

is one of the mayor's biggest donors,
which is interesting, 'cause the son, Todd,

is like besties with Paul Andrews.
Or, uh, he was. Sorry.

Andrews was like an alumni mentor to Todd
at Columbia. He took him under his wing,

and now they serve on a bunch of boards
for all these, like, liberal organizations.

Anyway, I got a home address for Todd

out in Port Washington,
but the office is out by the Navy Yards,

so maybe you wanna try there first.

But, um, Billy, just be careful, alright?

Paul Andrews was just murdered and...

I'm sure it's gonna be
a shit storm out there.

- You're kidding me. You gotta be...

MAN: Get in here!
(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Hey, look at me.
(LONG BEEP)

You're a fucking idiot!
- Stop fuckin' hitting me!

- You're the reason this is happening!
(SHOUTING)

- Shit!
(TIRES SQUEALING)

Shit.

(HORN HONKING)

Ah!!

(HONKING) Ah!!

(ENGINE STALLING) C'mon!

(GRUNTING) Ah, fuck.

Ah!!
MAN: Watch out!

- Ah!!

(TIRES SQUEALING)

(ENGINE REVVING)

- Hope you got insurance.

- Why? The other guy
didn't leave his information?

- Nah, but we'll get him.
- How you gonna manage that?

- Camera over there.

- How long it take you to get that footage?
- Depends.

You got a powerful uncle?

- I might.

(RINGING)
- Thank you for calling the Roosevelt Hotel.

- What'd you say?
- The Roosevelt Hotel.

- Yeah, I'm looking for a Carl Fairbanks.

- I'm sorry, sir, but the Commissioner
hasn't set up his voice mail.

May I take a message?
- We done here?

- Yeah, we good.

- Found a little trouble tonight, huh, Billy?

- Yeah, you could call it that.

FAIRBANKS: Leave the bottle, Harry.

- Ah, you come here often?
(FAIRBANKS SIGHING)

- You trying to get in my drawers, Billy?
(CHUCKLING)

Huh?

What's next?
You gonna ask me for my sign?

- I bet you're the one
with two fuckin' faces.

- What, Gemini?
Close, Billy, I'm the bull.

What about you?

- Cancer.

Roosevelt, huh?

Pretty choice address for a cop.
Even if he is commissioner.

- I made some sound investments.
- Oh, I bet you did.

Not to mention that place out on Montauk?
Must've set you back a few mill at least.

What are you, the new Russell Simmons now?
You doin' yoga and fucking white women?

- That's cute, Billy.

- Tell me something, Commissioner.

The First Lady, she upstairs right now?

- Be careful, Billy.

I know that's why you were so concerned
about those pictures.

You were afraid you were in them.

That's why you took me upstairs,
and not Jansen.

- What do you want?
- I want Hostetler.

- Get in line.

- I almost had him tonight.

I had papers in my trunk,

a fuckin' boxful,
all with mockups and renderings

of some New York skyline
that doesn't exist right now,

but will as soon
as they tear down Bolton Village.

Until some goons blind-sided me.
- Yeah, we ID'ed him from his license plate.

- Who is he?

- Ex-homicide cop. Dick Murdock.

You know him?
- Yeah, he works for Sam Lancaster.

- He might work for Sam Lancaster,
but he's on Hostetler's payroll.

- Say again?
- All that paperwork you got in your trunk,

not to diminish your new beauty mark,
but it's fucking worthless.

Everyone knows Solstein Donagan's
gonna tear down Bolton Village

as soon as the political dust settles.

A few even know they already hired
the Rochway Group to do it.

- Really? So why is Paul Andrews dead
if it was such an open secret?

- Well, he was about to figure out the rest.
- What rest? What fuckin' rest?

Doesn't anybody in this town
speak in complete fuckin' sentences anymore?

- Todd Lancaster was meeting with Andrews
that night to bring him a contract.

Somebody didn't want that to happen.

Now, I myself almost secured the contract
from Todd, but now he's not talking.

He's scared.

- Well, the contract is proof of the deal
to tear down Bolton Village.

(FAIRBANKS SIGHING)
- That's part of it.

Only Todd Lancaster knows the other part.

Harry.

Whatever he wants. On me.
BARTENDER: Good night, Commissioner.

TAGGART: Good night, Commissioner.

MAN: Places, everyone.

We're live in five.

(BACKGROUND CHATTER)

- Good evening, New York.

And welcome to third and final
New York City mayoral debate.

At this time,
join me in welcoming our candidates:

Mayor Nicholas Hostetler
and Councilman Jack Valliant.

(APPLAUSE)

- Hey. How much?

- Manual windows?
- Yeah.

- That's how you got
those masculine forearms.

- Where'd you think I got 'em,
from stroking your ego?

Big booty: good.
Big forearms: no good.

C'mon, let me drive. What the fuck?

- You're an asshole!
- I didn't do it on purpose! Let me drive.

- Oh, my God! You ruined my car
before you even started driving it.

- I apologize.
- Where are we goin' again?

- Don't worry about it. Get in.
- What do you think I'm doing?

- Whoa. Where'd you get these seat covers,
the Gaza Strip?

- In a Valliant administration,
we will be focusing on two key principals:

Shared responsibility and shared sacrifice.

For those of you who are fortunate enough
to earn more than $200,000 a year,

we'll ask that you pay
a little more in taxes.

For those of you who don't,
well, we'll bring down the payroll tax.

It's responsible and it moves us forward

towards a balanced budget
and a secure future.

(APPLAUSE)

- Mayor.

- I think it is laughable that my opponent

can be up here
espousing fiscal responsibility

when it is a known fact he has never
met a tax he didn't want to raise.

AUDIENCE: Ooh...
- This coming from the man

whose policies landed us
in a billion-dollar deficit.

- No, this is coming from the mayor

who got us out of it.
- Yeah!

- By selling New Yorkers' homes
out from underneath them.

By selling public housing

to a Wall Street equity firm.

I believe the residents of Bolton Village
would have much preferred a tax increase

to an eviction notice.
(APPLAUSE)

- I'm telling you this, Councilman:
no matter where a New Yorker lives,

nobody wants a tax increase.
(LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE)

- Nor do I.

And I believe it's time that you told
the truth about the Bolton Village deal.

- Here's the truth:
We have a $3 billion surplus.

Now, we can use that
to put our people back to work.

(APPLAUSE)
We can use that to bring tax relief to folks.

That's the truth.
- No, that's not even close to the truth.

You made a sweetheart deal
with Solstein Donagan to line

your own pockets.
To buy your way

out of a deficit that your broken policies
created in the first place.

The truth of the matter is,

you continue to lie to the good people
of this city about their intentions.

Solstein Donagan did not buy Bolton Village
to get into the landlord business.

Solstein Donagan bought Bolton Village
to get into the skyline business.

Pure and simple.
- Peter, I believe we've gone

into the area of slander.
- Solstein Donagan, in their 50-year history,

has never bought a property
intended for residential use,

and I highly doubt they intend to start now.

- I don't how much clearer
I can make it for you.

To the people of Bolton Village,

there's only one reason I got into this deal.

Because I want better for you.

There is a new day dawning

in Bolton Village.
And if Solstein Donagan,

if they step out of line,
if they don't fulfill their promises,

then I will smack them back into shape.

(LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE)
That is my oath.

- Well, unfortunately for you, Mayor,
we're all well aware

what that oath has been worth.
- The fact remains,

the debt is gone.

- There are other ways
to move us toward solvency...

- Name one.
- ... Besides larceny.

I'll tell you

what I would've done.
First, I would've done something my opponent

clearly feels is beneath him
and that is to seek

the counsel of my betters
on this crucial issue.

I would've convened a panel of respected
economists to help us solve this.

- Respected economists
to have an in-depth look...

We all know about that panel, Councilman.
- Legality and...

- That's the same panel
that put us into default in the '80s.

New Yorkers need more than a panel, son,
they want solutions.

- New Yorkers want...
- There is only one person up on this stage

in the business of providing solutions.

The other one up here is in the business

of saying how dire the situation is...
- Is this a debate,

or are we being treated
to a Nick Hostetler soliloquy?

The issue is dire.

Because you and your cronies
have rigged the game.

And honest, hardworking New Yorkers
recognize that nothing will change.

Nothing will ever change
if we continue to elect men like this.

- Tell me things have not changed!

When I was elected mayor,

this was a broken city.
Broken.

Step by step, I've been getting it fixed.

Bolton Village
is just another one of those steps.

Tell me things haven't changed.

I just stood before you all
and told you we have a $3 billion surplus...

- Mayor...
- Tell me things haven't changed.

No other mayor
in the history of this great city

has been able to stand in front of the people
and tell them that!

When you step out of your house,
in the morning, with your children,

you take 'em to the parks
of the five boroughs, d'you feel safe?

Yes, you do,

'cause I get your letters and I know you do.

That's us, working together,
getting it fixed.

Tell me things haven't changed.

WOMAN: Yeah!
MAN: That's right, Mayor!

(CHEERING AND APPLAUSE)

- Councilman Valliant,
the original question still remains.

What would you have done
to reverse the debt?

- Tha...
- Don't worry about it, Councilman!

Nicky fixed it.
(LAUGHTER AND APPLAUSE)

(CHEERING)

- Two honks for trouble. Got it.

- Lean your seat back all the way, okay?
- Okay.

- I'll be right back.

You know who I am?
- No!

- 'Cause I know who you are, Todd.
I know what you are,

you piece of shit!
- What? Watch it! Ah!

- You set up Andrews to die!
- No. No.

- You set him up!
You arranged that meeting,

and you lured him out!
- No, I didn't.

- You let him walk into an ambush.
- No, I didn't kill him!

- You want to fuckin' play games with me?!
Shut your fuckin' mouth!

You're a fucking liar. You're a liar.
- I didn't kill him.

- Ah... Ah... Ah, no.
- You wanna lie to me?

(GUN COCKING)
- I'm not lying.

He was my friend.
- What?!

- He was my friend!!
- Get up!

Now!

What are you saying?
Tell me what the fuck is going on!

- Please stop hitting me!

(SOBBING) I didn't know!

I was just there to give him something!

I-I was down on the corner
and I was waiting for him,

and I saw him coming down the stairs

and I waved, okay?

I was gonna give him something
to help Valliant win!

To help Valliant bring down
that sonofabitch Hostetler!

- That doesn't make any sense, Todd.
Hostetler's your father's friend.

- Fuck my father!!

I had the contract in my hand.

And... Paul, he saw me waving

and he smiled.

(SOBBING)

Murdock, he must've followed me in his car.
And then he got out,

he shot him, man!
He shot him in the fucking head!

And then he showed up to work the next day
like nothing had happened.

- Todd, it's alright. Look at me. Look at me.
Calm down, okay?

Where's that contract?

- Take it.

I don't want it anymore.

- Are you sure you're ready
to do this to your father?

- Yeah.
(SIGHING)

(HORN HONKING)
- Shit.

Get upstairs. Go!

(GUNSHOT) That was an accident.

It's Taggart, alright? Just calm down.
- Motherfucking fuck! Fuck!

(ROARING)
- Ah!

(MUFFLED GROANING)

(GRUNTING)

(PANTING)

You okay?

- Yeah.

Are you okay?

- Yeah, I'm alright.
(ENGINE STARTING)

You got those reporters' email addresses?
- Yep.

Billy, you sure about this?

- If you don't hear from me in two hours,
you send that email okay?

- Okay.

- Thanks for being there, Katy.

- Every time.

WOMAN: Good evening. May I help you?
- Yeah, tell the mayor it's Billy Taggart.

- One moment, please.

(GATE OPENING)

Mr. Mayor.

- Billy.

What a nice surprise.

Thank you, Valerie.

VCR. I haven't used one in years.

Take your coat?
- No, I'm good.

- I have to say, Billy,
you're looking a little worse for wear.

- I got into a bit of a thing.

- Well, I'm glad you made it out.

Drink?
- Yeah, make it a double.

- Atta boy, Billy.

Alright.

So...

...how did Fitzgerald say it?

"To the orgiastic future that year by year
recedes before us."

Cheers.

I don't even know what that means.
- Me neither.

(MAYOR CHUCKLING)
- What can I do for you, Billy?

- I wanna know why you hired me.

- Stick with the adultery narrative.

It's sexier.

- Yeah, lies are always sexier.

Unfortunately, I've had enough this week
to last me a lifetime,

so why don't you just tell me
the fuckin' truth?

- The truth is...

I hired you...

...to investigate my wife.

- Investigate her for what?

- For not minding her own business,
is for what.

For having a big mouth, is for what.

For asking too many questions, is for what.

You better be careful
following her example, Billy.

I might have to hire someone
to investigate you.

- Who you gonna have do that?
Your boy Murdock?

I don't think he's available for the job.

- I hope he didn't suffer.
- No more than Andrews did.

- Damn shame what happened to that man.
- So tell me this, then, Mayor.

Did you really think I'd let you turn me
into an accessory to murder? For $50,000?

What, d'you think
I wouldn't ask any questions?

Or d'you think I wouldn't get any answers?

- What answers you got, Billy?
- Oh, I know Andrews

was about to link you to Bolton Village.
That's the reason you got rid of him.

- No, sir. Not me.
- Not you.

The man you hired. Murdock.

- Try getting that testimony.

- Yeah. You're good, Mayor.
I give you that.

You got it all worked out, huh?

The denial about Bolton Village.

The discount to Solstein Donagan.
The new big contract

to the Rochway Group.
Nobody can do a goddamn thing about it, huh?

'Cause anybody that could is either dead
or you bought 'em.

I'm fuckin' impressed, Mayor. You're good.

- Perhaps that's why the people
keep electing me, Billy.

Because I simply get the job done.

- So all this, it was all for the city?

- Everything I do is for this great city.

- The city doesn't own 50%
of Rochway Group, Mayor.

You do.

Look what I got.

- What you got in your hand?

- It's your fuckin' jugular, Mayor.

Fifty percent of $4 billion
is a lot of fucking money.

So here's how this works.
I got an email in my outbox

with a scanned copy
of that Rochway contract attached to it.

I click one button
and 100 different newsmen

are gonna read your name
alongside Sam Lancaster's

in black and white.

Don't worry Mayor,
I got the original nice and safe.

You resign, you step down,
I'll keep my mouth shut.

Those emails'll never see the light of day.

But that Bolton Village deal... is dead.

Now you wanna tear down
100 other projects as a civilian, so be it.

But Bolton Village is gonna stand
and you're gonna walk away.

That's the deal, Mayor.
I suggest you take it.

- Counteroffer.
- No need.

I got nothing left for you to threaten.

- I want the originals,
I want all the copies,

and I want your case file.

By... 9 a.m. tomorrow.

- You're done, motherfucker.

You are done.
- You ever spend a goddamned minute

thinking why I chose you, Taggart?

And I did choose you.

I chose you.

Because I own you.

Now, you'll gonna have to excuse
the quality of the videotape.

It was shot on one of those camcorders
they used to sell you hot,

40 bucks on 8th Avenue.

But I think you're about to see
the big picture.

- Hey, yo!

First off, let me say welcome.

Welcome to Bolton Village.
- What the fuck is this?

- Ah, what's your name, fool?

- They call me Alex, but you can call me...
- What the fuck is this?!

- ... EI Guapo!
- EI Stupid.

Yo, we just coolin' out,
me and my man David on the camcorder.

- Hell, yes, the boy David.

Hello.
(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

- No, no, wait. I got a pocketful of cash,

and we looking to have some fun tonight.
So we gonna hit up the usual spots,

maybe get into something unusual.
- Hell yeah.

TAGGART: Drop the gun, Mikey!
Drop the fucking gun!

ALEX: What the fuck?!
- Drop the fucking gun!

MIKEY: Yo, chill, man! What the fuck?
- Mikey, we just wanna talk.

(PANTING)

(GUNSHOT)

Drop the fucking gun.
- Man, what the fuck, man?

- It's okay, Mikey. We just wanna talk.

- Oh, shit, man!
C'mon, get the fuck outta here!

(SIRENS WAILING)

Oh, shit, man!
C'mon, get the fuck out of here!

- How's your memory now, Billy?

Now, there's something
that your average citizen...

...just wouldn't understand.

But I do.

You see, we...

we take because we can.

We take...

...because it feels good.

The only difference between you and I...

...is that you've gone and done it
on videotape.

Like I was saying, I want the original,

all the copies and the case file,
by the morning.

You can have this copy.

I transferred it to disk... seven years ago.

- Nat?

- We take... because it feels good.

The only difference between you and I

is that you've gone and done it on videotape.

Like I was saying, I want the original,

all the copies and the case file,
by the morning.

You can have this copy.

I transferred it to disk... seven years ago.

- He'll ruin you if you do this.
You know that, Billy.

- Use it.

- There's no statute of limitations
on murder.

If I go with this,
I gotta go with the whole thing.

Can't cut it down to protect you.
- Not asking you to.

- You sure?

- Time to square the debt.

WOMAN: He was very charming, indeed, yes.

- Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen,

unaccustomed as I am to public speaking,
I know you, Sam, you like a debate.

How did you enjoy that one?
- Masterful.

(MAYOR CHUCKLING)
- Thank you very, very much.

Uh, firstly,
I'd like to thank you all for coming.

This is a room full of my wife and I's
very, very good friends, so thank you.

A man much smarter than me once said
that politics...

is the art of the possible.

Now, this afternoon,
Jack Valliant was ordering stationery.

Tonight, he's looking for the number
of the bus that hit him.

He fought a good fight,
but he was boxing shadows.

He was like Roberto Duran out there.
"No mas, Nicky, no mas.

Don't hit me no more."
- Mr. Mayor. He says it's urgent.

- Thank... I'll deal with this.
I... I apol... Don't go anywhere.

I have a lot of people to thank.

Yes.
- It's me.

- Billy.
I didn't think you'd call me so soon.

- Look out your window now, Mayor.
It's your future.

- I think your ride's here, Nick.

- Nicholas Hostetler, you're under arrest
for the murder of Paul Andrews.

MAN: What?
(MURMURINGS)

- You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be used

against you in a court of law.
- Will be used against you, Carl.

- You have the right to an attorney.

If you cannot afford one,
one will be provided to you.

- Attorneys? They'll be pulling
your dental records once I'm done with you.

- Do you understand these rights

as I have described them to you?
- I understand you're suicidal.

You may have forgotten
how you got your job; I have not.

Do you really think a jury of my peers
in New York City will convict me?

- I'm just the handcuffs guy.

(CROWD MURMURING)

- Don't wait up, dear.
- Have I ever?

- I guess we both misjudged Billy, Mayor.

Then again, you misjudged the lot of us.

You thought Billy would roll over,

you thought Andrews
was sleeping with your wife.

You thought I wasn't.

- Mr. Mayor!
(REPORTERS CLAMOURING)

Why did you do it?
(CLAMOURING)

What does this mean for the election?!

(DISTANT SIRENS)

- Councilman, New Yorkers have been put
through quite an ordeal these last few days,

beginning with the murder of Paul Andrews,
your campaign manager,

and culminating last night with the arrest

of Mayor Hostetler
in connection with that crime.

What do you have to say to New Yorkers

who quite frankly have lost faith
in their government?

- Well, days like these
can definitely shake your faith...

- Rachel, you stayin' out of trouble?
- Hey... Trying.

- Yeah, I know it.

Whatever he's drinking.

Tomorrow's the big day, huh, Billy?

VALLIANT:... believed that whenever
there's a sliver of a choice...

- Looks like our guy's a lock.

To Jack Valliant.

A good man.
- ... We need every ounce

that we can muster
to repair the damage that's been done.

- I, uh... I got you... this.

- What is it?
- What does it look like? It's a phone card.

- Thank you.

- Every time, Billy.

- It's okay, Katy. I'll be home real soon.

- I'll be here.

- C'mon, Billy.

We'll take the long way.

(MUSIC)

(MUSIC)

(ENGLISH US - SDH)