All language subtitles for Bad.Company.1995.1080p.WEB.H264-DiMEPiECE_track3_[eng]

(MUSIC PLAYING)

NELSON: When there has
been a reduction in force

at the Central
Intelligence Agency,

and you're the one
who's been riffed,

it's not always easy
to find a new job.

When a prospective employer
asks for your skills,

you can't very well say
that they've been blackmail,

bribery, subversion,

the odd kidnapping...

Still, there are
legitimate businesses

who are looking for people...

Exactly like you.

COMPUTER:
Question correct.

(CIGARETTE LIGHTER CLICKS)

COMPUTER:
Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

(DOOR OPENS)

Time's up.

I haven't quite
finished yet.

Almost no one does.

Those who do are geniuses.

We're not in the
market for genius.

Why not?

Smart's smart, isn't it?

Genius bores easily.

Tends to brood.
Then to plot.

Palace revolts?

Sexual conquests, mostly.

So, what's next?
More tests?

No, that's the last.

After it's scored,
the computer will work
up a total evaluation.

If it's satisfactory,
you see Mr. Grimes.

What happens if the
computer doesn't like me?

We wave goodbye.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

I'm gonna call this one the
Mitterrand Misapprehension.

Hmm.

So...
Just what we expected.

He's an aggressive,
healthy heterosexual male

with a superior IQ of 141.

He's divorced, no children,

has a BA from Michigan
in Political Science,

good Spanish, fair French,
quite a little Arabic,

and according
to his test results,

just a touch of paranoia.

VIC GRIMES: Paranoia's good.
It keeps one careful.

How much was the bribe
to the Iraqi colonel?

MARGARET:
50,000 in gold.

The colonel swore he never
got it. Crowe swore he did.

The agency paymaster
believed the colonel.

GRIMES: So the agency
dismissed Mr. Crowe?

MARGARET: After he broke
the paymaster's jaw, yes.

Hello, Mr. Grimes.

Well, Mr. Nelson Crowe.

Nice to meet you.
How do you do?

Very well, thank you.
Late of Managua, huh?

Amman, Panama,
and other garden spots.

Yes.
Sit down, will you?

Welcome to
the tool shed.

Tool shed?

Well, that's a bit before
your time, I suspect.

Those infamous and
long-ago Senate hearings

on covert operations
run wild.

They called in old
Nate Packer to testify.
You've heard of him?

Well, who hasn't?

He's a man of
impeccable manners.

Answered even the
dumbest questions
with care and courtesy.

Then somebody
asked him

the question he
most wanted to hear.

So, old Nate puts on this
stud poker expression of his

and he tells the senators
that the way to solve

their loose cannon
or rogue elephant
problems in covert ops

is to round up some fit,
trained specimens,

much like Margaret here,
and yourself,

and then lock them away
in a tool shed until
they're needed.

He really said "tool shed"?
Yes, he really did.

And that's when I had
a flash of pure inspiration.

I told myself,
the government is
never gonna buy

this brilliant concept,
but private industry might.

So, three years later
I left the agency

and I began building
my very own tool shed.

Must be paying off,
unless it's all front.

You might be interested to
learn that 21 of our clients

are among the nation's
top 500 companies.

And that's just
our domestic side.

And we're equally
active in foreign clients,
Mr. Crowe.

Once the world sensibly turned
from Cold War to commerce,

we picked up a half
a dozen new clients.

A couple of them from behind
the erstwhile Iron Curtain.

So, we are thriving,
I assure you.

Doing whatever needs
doing... For a price.

Precisely.

Do you care to join us?

How much?

How much?

Seventy five to start.

Say 80.

Oh, he wants 80.
He does.

All right.

When?

When do you start?
Yes.

Would five minutes be too
much for you to handle?

Not a problem.

Margaret?

Let's say 10.

Ten.

Very well.
Pleasure.

Same here. Thank
you, Mr. Grimes.

Nice neighborhood.

Oh, yeah.
Very respectable.

You'd be surprised.

Nothing much surprises
me anymore, Ms. Wells.

And somehow that
doesn't surprise me.

So, what's our assignment?

Information's on a
need-to-know basis.

All right.

(SONG PLAYING ON SPEAKERS)

♪ I want to go higher

♪ I want to go higher

♪ If I ever get down
In the dumps

♪ Short of a dollar
Nothing change for months

♪ It seems to rain
About every day

♪ And all the news
Seems kinda gray

♪ It's no illusion
Call it reality

♪ So I release more
Charge from my battery

♪ We can rise
Death defy gravity

♪ Bring about a sense
Of personality

♪ So as I walk I look around

♪ See some go up
Some go down

♪ There goes the mayor
His nose is brown

♪ Guess how he get
To wear his crown

♪ But his hands are shaking
The walls are breaking

♪ And one day
They will all fall down

♪ Sometimes
It's better that way

♪ Making space for a some day

♪ We're on the ground floor
Got lots to learn

♪ Slip to the basement
And you burn

You know how
to work one of these?

You bet.

♪ Tell me now where
Do ya want to go

♪ Higher baby

♪ I want to go higher

♪ Where did you want to go?

♪ I want to go higher

♪ I want to go higher

♪ So tell me baby
Kinda shaky

What the fuck is this?

As of COB today,
Mr. Cartwain,

you are no longer President
of Curl Industries.

Maybe nobody told you,
shit for brains,

but my sister is
a major stockholder
in Curl Industries.

And if that little prick
thinks he can fire me...

Soon as your sister sees
this tape of you and, um...

I don't think Mom's gonna
like this, Uncle Johnny.

"Uncle Johnny?"

Mmm, mmm, mmm.

♪ Just returning
My native call

♪ And that's the way
We're getting by ya

♪ Always keeping you
on the wire ♪

(DOOR CLOSES)

Some day.

Yeah, right.

(STARTS ENGINE)

Where's my fucking money?

In the mailbox, where else?

All in 50s,
like I said?

Mmm, 10,000, in 50s.

(LAUGHS) You know what?

That was kind of
fun, wasn't it?

(KNOCKS)

What's up?

You're our FNG?

Yes, I am.

Your "Fucking New Guy."

And you are?

Tod Stapp.

With two Ps.

Nice to meet you, Tod.
Nelson Crowe.

Margaret brief you?

On just about
everything, yes.

Thank you.

(SIGHS)

Everything but
herself, right?
Right.

Well, to answer a few of your
unasked questions, she's 36...

Out of Holyoke
by way of the agency.

Married?
Single.

And you call her...

Margaret.
Or Ms. Wells.

Never Maggie.

Ah, Maggie.

What do you
really call her?

Snow Queen.

Snow Queen?
Right.

Tell me about her, Margaret.
Who?

Cartwain's niece.

Is she really
as young as they say?

Younger.
Sixteen at the most.

And pretty, hmm?

I hear they say
she's very pretty.

Judge for yourself.

Yes.

Oh!

Yes, yes.

You know, perhaps
you should have a copy
of the tape itself.

Perhaps I should.
Hmm.

You know, uh...

If it weren't
for my health,

I would've sacked
Cartwain myself,

for his obstinacy
and treachery.

Now, this...
This incest thing...

He could've blown us
out of the water on
the Cross Creek case.

Could have.
Can't. Not anymore.

Let's talk about Cross Creek
versus Curl Industries.

According to our inquiries,

the court is leaning
four to three against you.

But I don't
understand why.

Cross Creek has no case.

The facts and
the truth support us.

All we want
is simple justice.

Simple justice runs a bit
high these days, Walter.

If the court rules
in Cross Creek's favor,
what'll it cost you?

Absolute minimum.

25 million, at least.
Oh.

Now, for only 4% of that,
for a mere $1 million,

you can buy yourself
your very own

State Supreme Court justice.

And a favorable verdict.

Are you sure?

Are you positive?
Take a look at us, Walter.

Do either Margaret or I look
as if we want to go to jail?

Before you attempt to suborn
a State Supreme Court justice,

or even a justice
of the peace,

you first make sure
he's got his hand out.

Way out. Way out. Here.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS
IN DISTANCE)

(TV PLAYING IN BACKGROUND)

(SHUFFLING CARDS)

(SIGHS HEAVILY)

Two no-trump, doubled.

Game and rubber.

(SIGHS)
How much, Les?

It's $970 to you, Beachie.

Phil gets off with $210,
and the Doc...

Breaks even.

They got lucky on that
last finesse, Judge.

Oh, it's not luck.
That was skill.

(GROANS) Well, bedtime.

Same time next week,
gentlemen, mmm?

LES: Care for a
nightcap, Beach?

MAN: Goodnight, Judge.
Sure. Goodnight.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

I don't really
want a nightcap.

Oh...

I'm holding $19,000
worth of these already.

This'll almost make
it an even 20.

I won't carry anyone
for that much.

Not even a guy who's the
older brother I never had.

Just till Friday, Les.
Monday at the latest.

Look...

If you really need
20 or 30,000

all you have to do is ask.

But cards are my living

and if people know
I'm holding your markers,

they might get the
idea I've gone soft.

Easy.

And I can't afford that.

I understand, Les. I do.

I understand.
No, you don't.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

This afternoon, I got
a call from Bobby Birdsong,

our mutual bookie.

Bobby's carrying you
for 25 and is so worried,

he offered to sell it
to me for 15.

I said, "No, thanks."

Friday, Les. Everything'll
be fine by Friday.

Don't worry.
Beachie...

After Friday...

Somebody else
will do the worrying.

Understand?

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(SIREN BLARING IN DISTANCE)

(PHONE BEEPING)

WOMAN: (ON PHONE) 9331.

I'm in.

One across, four letters.
Pan's beginning to leak.

Right.

(CALL DISCONNECTS)

(SONG PLAYING)
♪ Your intelligence is sexy

♪ I want to know
What you got to say

♪ I want to know
What you got to say

♪ I want to know
What you got to say

(SIGHS)

♪ I can tell you
Taste like the sky

♪ 'Cause you look like rain

Pan's beginning to leak.

♪ You look like rain
You look like rain

♪ You look like rain ♪

Drip.

(BUZZER RINGS)

(BUZZER CONTINUES RINGING)

NELSON: What?

It's "Who."
Not "What."

Margaret Wells, that's who.

(DOOR BUZZES)

Hi.

Jesus...

You do drink
scotch, don't you?

Who'd you plan
to buy with it?

A judge.

What do you got here?
About 25,000?

Thirty.
Hmm.

Want water?
Straight, please.

So...

What kind of judge?

Small Claims Court,
Traffic Court, what?

State Supreme Court.

State Supreme Court?

Well, the 30,000
buys us an introduction.

His full price is one million.

Can we sit down?
Mmm...

There aren't any chairs.

Bed's fine.

(SIREN BLARING IN DISTANCE)

He's a degenerate
gambler, this judge.

Let me guess...

We're gonna buy
up his markers.

You are quick, aren't you?
Mmm.

The markers are the stick.

Then comes the carrot.

That would be...

The one million.
Mmm.

I like details.

You want them now?

Later.

Well?

I need back-up.

How about Tod Stapp?

Yeah, he'll do.

The risk doesn't seem
to bother you much.

If any.

It's what I do.
It's what I'm good at.

Besides, I learned the
lesson a long time ago

that maximum effort
means minimum risk.

How about the lesson,
"Small risk means
small profit"?

Big risk...

Big profit.

Never heard of it.

The agency was always
very big on risk,

but not very big on profit.

How about half
the tool shed?

Who'd own the other half?

Someone willing
to share the risk.

And Grimes?

So Grimes goes.

Say it.

Grimes goes.

Well?

I'll think about it.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(PHONES RINGING)

MAN: Yeah, they're not wired,
they're not carrying.

I can swear to that.

They swear they're not
cops. But who knows?

They got names?

Not so as you'd notice.

I'll call them,
"Mr. X" and "Mr. Y".

Yes.

You got business with me?

Mr. X? Y?

Private business.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING
CONTINUES)

Ah! Good for my back.

Well?

We buy bad paper,
Mr. Birdsong.

Do you now?

That's interesting.

Any particular kind?

Old debts,
outstanding notes.

For instance, say
someone owed you...

Oh, say, 25,000.

That you'd almost given
up on ever collecting.

We might offer
you 15 for it.

You want Judge Beach's
paper, don't you?

I don't believe we know
anyone named Beach, but, um...

If he has paper out and
we buy it, we probably
would get to know him.

Probably.

Cash?

Gentlemen,

have a cup of tea.

Hello, Mr. Goodman,
nice to see you.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
(SOFT PIANO MUSIC PLAYING)

That him?

That's him.

(NELSON SPEAKING FRENCH)

You looking well!

You mind if we join you?

Before you get upset,
take a look inside.

I take it you two
are Mr. X and Mr. Y.

He talked to Birdsong.

How much?

Twelve and a half.

For 20,000 worth
of bad checks?

It occurs to me,
gentlemen,

that you're not really in the
bad paper-buying business.

It occurs to me that
you are into something

much more profitable.

In which I might...

Let's say, participate.

Do you like pain?

If you do...

(WHIMPERING)

I can paralyze your elbow.

(GASPING)

And the pain
is so excruciating

that you won't be able
to play bridge...

For a week, maybe two.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)
Now, Les...

Promise me that you won't
butt into our business

and maybe you
and I can be...

Friends.

Maybe even...

Real good friends.

Okay?

Get your hand off me.

(PIANO MUSIC CONTINUES)

Tell us...

About the judge's
extracurricular love
life, if anything.

He's my oldest friend.

How old?
LES: My oldest.

We grew up next
door to each other.

He was like an
elder brother to me.

So any information about his
"extracurricular love life,"

as you call it...

Will cost you
another 1,000.

Pay him.
Look in your napkin, Les.

How did you...

Her name's Julie Ames.

Do you know the
Queen Charlotte?

Apartment 1402.

(SCOFFS)

His oldest friend, huh?

I have that privilege.

Call me sometime.

We can discuss friends.

Old... And new.

I may do that.

Are you a fisherman,
Mr. Crowe?

No.

It's a solitary pursuit,
essentially.

But one that provides time
for meditation and reflection.

I was just pondering
on how long the
world will last.

The world as we
know it, of course.

Mmm.

I don't give it much
more than 20 or 30 years.

By then, clean air,
clean water, clean rain
and productive soil...

Will all be memories.

If, indeed, there
are any memories.

Which brings us, in a
rather circuitous fashion,

to Cross Creek versus
our esteemed client,
Curl Industries.

Cross Creek, of course,

is the birthplace of
the "Cross Creek babies."

You must've seen
them on television.

The ones with leukemia, no
fingers, one eye, et cetera.

Exactly.

The hamlet of Cross Creek...

Claims that toxic waste,
dumped into their water supply

by our client,
caused the deformities.

Do you believe that?

The lower courts did.

Stuck your client
with a $25 million tag.

Well, true, but now it's
up to the State Supreme Court

to decide the right or
wrong of that judgment.

And here we are,
just the three of us,

about to suborn
a Supreme Court Justice

into voting against
crippled kids.

Does that give you
pause, Mr. Crowe?

Sure.
GRIMES: But...

No "buts".

The two of you
wanted to know

if it gives me
pause. I said yes.

It's a felony.

If I get caught,
I go to jail.

That gives me
pause, all right?

If it didn't, you
wouldn't have me
working for you.

What about the
deformed tots?

I suppose I think of them
as often as they think of me.

You'll find
$1 million in that bag.

Spend it wisely, Mr. Crowe.

Okay. Anything else?

That time in
Jordan, in Amman...

Did the Iraqi colonel
really get his gold?

He got it.

I do hope so.

He is a nasty piece of work.

Isn't he, though?

(FLIPPING BILLS)

(HORN BLARING)

You really expect
me to sign this?

Sure.

I mean, you just turned
over all this money to
the federal government,

for which we're
extremely grateful.

Now we're gonna turn
it back over to you.

And if we're gonna do that,
we're gonna need a receipt.

Because bearing in mind
that Iraqi colonel,

you might be on
the next flight to Rio.

Uh-uh! Both copies, slick.

It was worth a try.

So, what about Maggie and
her plan for a palace coup?

Was I right or was I right?

You were half
right, as usual.

She won't give me the details
till after I fix the judge.

What kind of pitch
did she make?

Half for me,
half for her.

Well, now...

What does "Well, now" mean?

It means you go
the distance with her,

provided you're
still interested

in scrambling back
into our grace and favor

and staying out of jail?

This is the last fucking
time, okay, Smitty?

The very last time!
You guys have had me

on every shit detail
you can think of
for two years

'cause of some fucking
Iraqi colonel.

He got his gold!
You know goddamn
well he did.

Uh-huh, well,
he says he didn't.

After this, I want out.

I want all the way out.

And all we want,
Nellie, is to nail
Vic Grimes on bribery

and acquire his tool shed.

So, our aims here
are identical.

I mean, we get
our very own,

private, self-supporting
special operations boutique,

at no cost to the
taxpayer, I might add.

And you get... Out.

Where are we, Al?

Two blocks from
the Queen Charlotte.

You want out here?

Zigzag a couple
more blocks, Al.

You got it.

You, uh, still think
somebody's always
on your tail, Nellie?

Not always.
Just sometimes.

Now and then,
you understand?

Thanks, Al.
Have fun.

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

Excuse me.
Yes?

Are these yours?

Who the hell are you?

Someone you're gonna
have to talk to, Judge.

I thought you'd rather
do it here than at home
or in your chambers.

You're trying
to collect on those?

You're wasting your time.

Can we talk now?

(TV PLAYING INDISTINCTLY)

(APPLAUSE ON TV)

WOMAN: Beachie?

Don't I get introduced?

Julie, I think it might be
best if you went for a walk.

Oh. Well,
I don't think so.

This is my house.

She stays.

What's going on, Beachie?

A bribe is being offered.

If I were drowning,

and somebody threw me
a life preserver,

I wouldn't exactly
call that a bribe.

You're drowning in
debt, Your Honor.

Another week or so,
it'll be, "Glub,
glub, goodbye."

Get out.

There's a million dollars
on that table, tax free.

Leave.

Please.

Birdsong.

I bought your paper
from Bobby Birdsong.

I also know a guy
at the news who, uh...

Okay, there's no
need to go into that,

but it would make
a hell of a story.

Supreme Court judge
in hock to bookie?

What case?

Cross creek
v. Curl Industries.

You go against
the crippled kids.

Well, the rumor is that
the rest of the court

is split three to three.

If you make if four to
three, in favor of Curl,

you're home free
and semi-rich.

Yes or no?

All right.

Yes.

NELSON:
I need a receipt.

She signs, too,
as a witness.

I'm not signing
anything.

Sign it, Julie.

What earthly difference
can it make?

You must have
very suspicious
employers, Mr...

Whatever it is
you call yourself.

Mr. X.

And this...

Is just an insurance against
your voting the wrong way.

And then saying,
"Money? What money?"

Get out of my house.

Sure.

(TV PLAYING INDISTINCTLY)

(LAUGHING ON TV)

MARGARET: Can
you make me one?

Sure.

You know what
this means?

It means that we have
a lock on the judge.

In the trade it's called,
"A forever lock".

Which means we can sell his
vote over and over again,

and it won't cost us a dime.

Great.

You don't seem
too impressed.

We're not scrupled,
surely, Mr. Crowe?

Scruples? No.

Just a growing concern
over the rosy future
you painted for us.

You know, the one where
all I do is stand in
front of the big window,

my back to the room.

While the smooth
guys in suits

stream in and out,
whispering in my ear.

All I got to do
is keep my eyes
on the distant horizon

and nod yes or no,
you remember that?

And a rough translation
of that might be...

What do we do
about Vic Grimes?

What, when, and how.

"What" is simple.

We kill him.

"How?"

Cleverly enough
to avoid suspicion.

And that just
leaves "When".

Have you ever
killed anyone?

Have you?

Not cleverly.

That's just another
word for "fancy."

Cyanide in toothpaste.
Crap like that.

See, to do it right...

You work up close.

Close enough
to hear 'em beg.

See 'em bleed.

And smell it when they
crap in their pants.

(PANTING)

Could you do it?

Could you kill him?

Me?

Just me.
Okay.

Us.

Bien sûr. Sure.
We can do it.

(PANTING)

Does Grimes
trust you?

As much as
he trusts anyone.

Ever slept with him?

Why?

Could you?

Could you?

Probably.
That's how we'll do it.

Sneak in his bed...
And kill him.

(SCREAMING)

(SHOUTING)

(DOOR CLOSING)

(CLICKING SWITCH ON AND OFF)

Who invited you?

I got curious.

Guess the judge decided
he could use

that million dollars
after all, huh?

Really?

I figured he would.

But, what I can't
figure out is...

Well, is you brother Crowe.

Why?

At 4:41 this afternoon,

you got out
of a large green van,

license number AAB 8990.

Now, Motor Vehicles
says it's a Hertz rental.

Now, Hertz says...

It went out on an Amex card

belonging to
one Norman Y. Harris.

If memory serves me...

Norman Y. Harris

is the agency work name
of William B. Smithfield.

The one he used
down in El Salvador.

When I was there.

Old Smitty, the agency's
all-time champion survivor.

Must be getting careless.

NELSON: Oh, I don't know.

Maybe he was in a hurry.

Here you are...

Working for Vic Grimes,

but still messing around
with the agency.

What kind of hammer are
they holding over you?

Ten years?

Fifteen?

Something like that.

My first reaction...

Was to race back
to the tool shed

before my shirt tail
hit my fanny,

score some points with Grimes,

tell him all
about you and Old Bill.

But you didn't.

Not yet.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

I smell money.

Not upper-middle class
folks' money.

I mean rich folks' money.

I want some of it. No...

I tell a lie.

I want a lot of it.

It's a takeover.

Keep talking.

Well, the agency
wants their own

off-the-books,
self-financed,

black operations
boutique.

Going concern
with no chance
of trace-back,

someone who'll handle the shit
work, the snatches, the...

Blackmail.

Who knows.
Maybe even the wet work.

In short...

The agency wants
the tool shed.

Who'll head it up?

Margaret and I will run it.

You.

Hmm...

I guess that makes you
number three.

What about Grimes?

What do you care?

(SIGHS)

You're right.

What do I care?

MARGARET:
And not only did Judge Beach

sign the receipt
for $1 million,

but Julie Ames also signed it,
as a witness.

How very neat and tidy.

You have the receipt,
of course?

Of course.

You're absolutely certain
it's the original,
and not a photocopy?

What's bothering you, Vic?

I asked what was
bothering you.

Mr. Crowe.

It's all gone so smoothly.

Here we have a judge
safely bribed,

we even have a receipt
to prove it.

It's Friday, and on Monday
a Supreme Court decision

is going to be handed down in
favor of our principal client.

Absolute perfection.

Something I long ago
learned to distrust.

Okay.

What else?

Ruth giving you
a hard time at home?

As a matter of fact,
my wife is spending the week

with her sister
in Minneapolis.

I'll be alone
for the weekend
at the cabin.

Oh.

Like me to come along?
Yes.

I was hoping
you'd be free.

And maybe this time,

I can even teach you a little
something about fishing.

I don't want to fish.

I want to fuck.

Now...

There's nothing
I can teach you
in that department.

"Thank you," she simpered.
(UNZIPS ZIPPER)

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(EXHALES) Well, well.
Toddy, dearest.

Al.

This should
be interesting.

What the fuck's
he doing here?
Cut himself in.

Sorry, Stapp.
No fagots allowed.

I mean,
you are still a fagot,
aren't you?

Of course, Bill.

NELSON: Well, I guess you have
to go see Grimes,

give him
a full report...

Tell him all
about the plans...
Just a minute.

Just a goddamn minute.

What did he do,
spill his guts?

Just the usual pillow talk.
Answer the goddamn question.

Look, Smitty...

You got dumb-fuck careless.

You rented that van
under your old work name.

After that,
I did my adds and takeaways

and came up with
an interesting total.

Either you cut me in...

Or I go see
what Grimes has to offer.

See what I mean, Al?

These faggots'll
fuck you over every time.

Jesus, cut him in, Smitty.
You don't have any choice.

Okay. You work with Crowe.

Swell. Now that
that's settled, what's next?

Well, next we're gonna
create a little crisis
in the tool shed by...

Causing Vic Grimes to lose
his bread-and-butter client.

Curl Industries.

How?
SMITTY: Well, you turned
Judge Beach around before.

Just turn him back around.

Make sure he votes
against Curl, and...

For Cross Creek.

The crippled kids.

You like it?

Oh, very much.
SMITTY: Then do it.

And take her with you.

Bill. Al.

Well?

We do nothing.
The judge stays fixed.

How?

The one million
for Curl industries.

The bribe money?

Yeah, Smitty was afraid
I'd skip to Rio with it,

so he made me give it to him.

Before he gave it back,
he made me sign two receipts.

Scotch and soda.

Two.

Even Smitty wasn't dumb enough
to let you keep a copy.

No, but...

Better than that.

I did get it on tape.

Sounds to me
like evidence

that federal money
bribed a judge.

Exactly.
It also means that even

if Smitty's got
his fist wrapped around me,

I got mine wrapped around him.

It's a wash.

Might work.

Depending on
what my cut is.

Well, your cut stays the same.

Money, power.

The love of someone
very beautiful.

(DOOR SHUTS)

Oh, Beachie.

(CHUCKLING)

Wait till you see
what else I bought.

(LAUGHING)

Julie, we have to talk first.

About what?

About... This.

The Bahamas?

Oh, my God.

Oh, Beachie,
how I wanted to go there.

When do we leave?

You leave this afternoon.
What?

You go by yourself.

Now... Please,
just listen to me.

I want you to...

Take the money.

And open an account
in your name.

With this man, at this bank.

In my name?
Mmm-hmm.

That means
you're leaving her.

Yes.

When?

Very soon.

So, I just wait
for you there?

In Nassau.
In Nassau. (CHUCKLING)

You trust me
that much, huh?
Oh, Julie.

It's not about trust.

It's about love.

Beachie...

I love you so much.

And I'm gonna make you
so fucking happy.

You already have.

(FOOTSTEPS)

(DOOR SHUTS)

How say you now,
gentlemen?

(SHRIEKS)

(GUNFIRE)

You know why I hate Grimes?

Probably because
you owe him too much.

Your only choices
are hate and gratitude.

Who wants to be grateful?

Exactly.

That's good,

'cause when this starts...

(PHONE RINGS)

Yeah, it's Margaret.

Yeah. Just give me 30 minutes.
All right, bye.

That was Grimes.

It seems Judge Beach shot
and killed himself
half an hour ago.

Grimes and I
have to go see Curl.

Calm him down, reassure him.

After that, we'll go up
to the cabin for the weekend.

To fish and fuck.

We do this tomorrow, right?

Yeah, all right.
Tomorrow.

(COCKING GUN)

(STEEL DRUM BAND PLAYING)

(DIAL TONE)

JULIE: Beachie?

What kind of detective?

Homicide. Can I see that?

Who is this?

(STEEL DRUM BAND CONTINUES)

(GASPS)

(SCREAMS)

(SOBS)

They're going to arrest me
and put me in prison!

There's no way I'll be able
to survive that.

There's no way
I could get out...

Shut up, Walter.

He's dead, you know.
MARGARET: I know.

Judge Beach killed himself.
MARGARET: I know that.

Now it will all come out.

They'll find out about it.

MARGARET: You want me to try?
Go ahead.

You can't...
Walter.

Walter, Walter,
I'm going to talk to you
very simply.

And slowly.

And I want you
to concentrate.

Okay? Now, sit down.

The court decision

is still going to be
handed down on Monday.

Do you understand?

Okay. Now that means,
it's already been voted.

Already written.
Do you follow that?

It means you've won, Walter.

It means the court made its
decision before Beach died.

And that decision will stand.

We've won?

Of course we won.

But I don't understand.

Why would he kill himself

after we gave him
all that money?

Maybe he had principles,
Walter.

Principles?

Maybe he had cancer or...

Cancer of the esophagus.

Oh, yes, of course.

People often do that,
when they have cancer.

How do you know
it was the esophagus?

Well, we don't know.
We don't know for sure.

If you don't know that,
how do you know
which way he voted then?

Walter, look at us.

You look like something
out of LL Bean.

We're going fishing.

Do you think
if anything was wrong,
we'd be going fishing?

Back to bed, Walter.

Nice rhythm, now.

See?

Mmm-hmm, my turn?
Yeah, your turn.

Let me see
you work that rod, woman.

You know, Julie Ames
is gonna be a problem for us.

MARGARET: I'll get Stapp
to take care of her.

GRIMES: That's my girl.
One more time.

(WHOOSHING OF
FISHING ROD)

MARGARET:
What are the numbers?
GRIMES: 11 to one.

(MARGARET CHUCKLING)
M12 is right
above your head...

MARGARET: Do they have
any name?
11 is a little... Yeah.

11 is slightly behind 12...
One o'clock.

You're going from
11 o'clock to 1 o'clock.

12 is directly
above your head,

11 is slightly behind it.

Shorter stroke
when you come up.

Tighter. Don't go so far back.
Keep your wrists straight.

MARGARET: Oh, that's
not so bad. What?
Isn't it?

GRIMES: Stop. Stop.

Had enough?
(LAUGHS)
Enough fishing. Yes.

(TAPPING)
(MOANING)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(OPERA MUSIC PLAYING)

(PANTING)

(GROANING)

(MOANING)

(UNLATCHES DOOR)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(RATTLING)
Wait.

Shh.

Wait there.

(CLOCK TICKING)

(CREAKING)

(SHOUTS)
Behind you, Vic!

(GUNFIRE)
(GRIMES GASPS)

(GUN COCKING)

(THUD)

Like I said...

You gotta work up close.

(CRYING)
You know what he said?

(SIGHING) No, what?

(CHUCKLES)

What?

Oh...

(WHISPERS)
He said he loved me.

So what?

So do I.

(SCREAMS)

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

Okay.
Okay.

(PANTING)
You okay?

(MOANS)

(GROANS)

(SIGHING)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

WOMAN: (OVER INTERCOM)
Dr. Kroll, 2023...

Dr. Kroll, 2023.

Why does the nurse
have to push you?

It's just a regulation.
She'll be here in a minute.

(PHONE RINGS)

(PHONE RINGING)

TOD: Ms. Wells' room.

Hi, Jane, what's up?

All right.

I'll tell her.

We're fucked.

Jane says
the State Supreme Court

just upheld the $25 million
judgment against Curl.

TOD: The vote
was four to three.

Get the door.

(MOANING)

Get him up.

You like pain?

TOD: Then I suggest
you get up,

or you'll feel pain
like you've never
felt before.

Here.

No, no. Don't touch me.

Grown men
don't touch each other.

What happened?

Oh, I had an accident.

What do you want from me,
Margaret? Grimes is dead.

That lying judge
swindled me out
of my money,

and then killed himself
out of spite.

That's over,
gone, finished.

What I want, is to keep you
out of jail, Walter.

WALTER: Jail? What for?

Bribery.

The money
that bribed the judge...

Your money...
Is still out there.

Somebody has it.

Somebody who knows
the whole story.

And can either
blow the whistle
on you or...

Blackmail me.
Hmm.

WALTER: Well you've got
to stop him, Margaret.

You've got to fix it,
so he doesn't do that...
MARGARET: It's not a him.

It's a her. Julie Ames.
Judge Beach's girlfriend.

Well then, stop her,
God damn it.

You mean
kill her, Mr. Curl?

Who's this person?

The man who can stop
Julie Ames.

Well then, do it!

We have to settle
on a price first.

Can I help you, sir?
Apartment 931.

(SOFT ROCK MUSIC)

♪ There's one thing I know

♪ I never felt this way

(DOORBELL RINGING)

♪ Until I met you

♪ I'll give you five
good reasons more

♪ And two

♪ You're so good

♪ When it comes down
to understanding...

Hello, Les.
Come on in.

Thank you.

Thank you for
coming so early.
Not at all.

I thought we'd talk
while I finish shaving.

Is that all right
with you?
How intimate.

♪ You're the one I pray for

♪ In the night ♪

And how cozy.
Thank you.

The anti-couch potato room,
I take it?

Something like that.

Do you have it just
about the way you want it?

Just about.

NELSON: You said
on the phone you had
some information about...

Judge Beach's girlfriend.
What was her name?

Julie Ames?

She's traveling
in Europe.

Mmm-hmm.
Working out her grief,
I expect.

I received
a card from her
only yesterday.

Showed her in Brussels,
of all places...

In front of the statue
of that perpetually
pissing little boy.

(CHUCKLING)

Care to see it?

Sure. Why not?

May I keep it?

Whatever for?

I think she's cute.

For your trouble.

No trouble at all.

(PHONE RINGING)

RECEPTIONIST:
Ms. Wells' office.

One moment.

She's expecting you.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR SHUTS)

Sorry I'm late.

It's not a problem.
We only have one item
to discuss.

Make it two.

All right, two.

I spoke to homicide today.

And?
They still have
no leads,

except for my description
of the killer.

Mid 40's, stocky,
thinning hair.

That's too bad.

My turn?
Mmm.

Miss Julie Ames,
of Brussels.

Where'd you get this?

I bought it
from one of
my sources.

What's she doing
in Brussels?

Working out her grief,
I'm told.

Too scared
to come home.

Probably too scared
to be of any
problem to us.

Brussels today,
Berlin tomorrow,

Rome on Friday
if the weather's nice,
who knows?

Find her.

Find her, then kill her.

You really get off
on saying that, don't you?

If you won't do it,
I'll find somebody who will.

Why don't we talk
about that tonight?

I'm busy tonight.

Busy?

What does "busy" mean?

"Busy" means
I'm entertaining clients.

"Busy" means
I'm not somebody's
bimbo in waiting.

You're right, Margaret.
You're no bimbo.

You're top shelf.

The girl of my dreams.

Because if you're not...

Then nothing we've done makes
any fucking sense, does it?

Are you finished?

I have a final prediction.

You and I are forever.

I decide when forever ends.

Get out.

It's Les.
Shall I come up?

Did you get
what I wanted?

Yes, but I'm afraid
it's a bit expensive.

Well, golly, Les.
What a surprise.

How much?

Two thousand.

Bullshit.

Fifteen hundred?

Sorry, Julie.

(SIGHING)

Is it loaded?

Of course.

But I'd better show you
how to use it.

This is the safety.

This is on...

(CLICKS)
This is off.

When the safety's on,
it won't fire.

This is the slide.

To fire the first time,
you pull it back like this.

That puts a round
up the spout.

Is there one
in there now?
Yes.

Then, I'm all set.

I just make sure
the safety's off.

Point it...

And start pulling
the trigger, right?

Right.

How many times
can I pull it?

Seven.

But it's
a semiautomatic,

so it ejects
its shell casings.

Once you fire it, I suggest
you gather up the casings.

Neatness counts.
(GUN CLANGS)

And then, too,
the police set
great store...

(GUN COCKS)
By shell casings.

Fifteen hundred, right?

The weapon is
fifteen hundred.

But, it won't do you
much good without
the other item.

All right, Les.

Who is he,
and where do I find him?

I did say cash,
didn't I?

(SCOFFS)

Forgetful me.

(CHUCKLES)

Nelson Crowe.
He's Mr. X?

Yes.

(DOOR OPENS)

RECEPTIONIST: Um...

I couldn't stop them.

It's all right.

Go on, get out.

My God,
you look flush, Maggie.

What do you want,
Smitty?

Remember Al, here?

How are you, Maggie?

(SOFTLY) Well...

I repeat my question,
what do you want?

Oh, we want it all,
Maggie. Everything.

See, we got you cold
on bribery and conspiracy.

You remember a little ol'
Tennessee gal named...

Julie Ames?

Well, when we find her and...

You can bet
your ass we will,

she's gonna be
our key witness.

And if that's
not good enough,

then there's
the sad death
of Vic Grimes.

Poor old Vic.

We might have
to bring the fee-bees
in on that one,

seeing as how Vic
had his civil rights
somewhat violated.

(SMITTY CHUCKLING)

Make your point.

Gee, I thought
I made my point.

We take over.
And you run it,

the way we want it run,
and where we want it run.

It'll be just like
old times, Maggie.
You'll be working for us.

Of course, if you don't want
to do that, you can do...

Fifteen to twenty.

Maybe even life.

(SIGHS)

Anything else?

Anything else, Al?

Personnel.

SMITTY: Personnel.

There will be
some personnel changes.

I'll come on
as Chairman of the Board.

And you can
be the president.

But Nellie Crowe...
(SIGHS)

Nellie's gonna have to be
our first casualty.

I don't know,
maybe we can put
a little plaque up

to him or something.

But I'm gonna leave
all that up to you, Maggie.

You understand?

Mmm.

We're in sort of a hurry
on the Crowe thing.

SMITTY: So now Al
and I are gonna take
a little tour and then...

I'll come back
and maybe you can...

Introduce us
to everybody.

Love it.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(DOOR CLOSES)
Get my car up.

Right away.

NELSON: (OVER RECORDER)
You really expect me
to sign these?

SMITTY: (OVER RECORDER)
Sure.

NELSON: I mean,
you just turned
all this money

over to the
federal government...

SMITTY: For which we're
extremely grateful.

We're now gonna
turn it back
over to you.

If we're gonna do that,
we need a receipt.

(BEEPING)

JULIE: Excuse me?

Could you hold that
for me, please?

Thank you.

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

MARGARET: Floor?

Seven, please.

(DOOR CLOSES)

What a lovely suit.

Paris?

Milan.
Oh.

(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)

(ELEVATOR DOOR OPENING)

(CHUCKLES)

TOD: (OVER RECORDER)
After that, I did my adds
and takeaways

and came up
with an interesting total.

Now, either you cut me in
(DOORBELL RINGS)

or I go to see what Grimes...
(RECORDER STOPS)

You're about
to have a visitor.

Ms. Julie Ames.

Of Brussels.

(DOORBELL)

(SIGHS)

Remember me?

Sure, um...

Julie Ames?

Come on in.

You alone?
I'm not disturbing
anything?

All alone.

Hey!

Now, that's pretty neat.

If you want to
watch the soaps,

you got to row an hour
or do 30 miles
on the bike, huh?

You're not really
Mr. X after all, are you?

Turns out
you're Nelson Crowe.

And used to be
a secret agent man.

(INHALES)
You been busy.

I got curious.

After Beachie, and all.

You're looking well, Julie.

Very prosperous.

I'm still
a little sad...

About Beachie.

Hmm.

I'm sorry.

I know it must've come
as quite a shock to you.

Can I offer you a drink?

Do I get to sit
on the bike?

We'll have it
in the kitchen.

That's where my daddy
did all his serious drinking.

In the kitchen.

JULIE: So,
that's what you do
for a living, huh?

Fuck up other
people's lives.

That's not exactly
how I like to think

of my job description, Julie.

(JULIE SCOFFS)
It's not, huh?

What about Beachie?

He was no saint...
But you might as well have

put a gun to his head
and pulled the trigger.

See, Beachie was all wrong
for that kind of scene.

Somebody should've
stepped in.

Done something.

And, I've about decided...

That somebody
should've been me.

(GASPS)

And you want
someone to pay,
is that it, Miss Ames?

Yeah, that's it.

I presume you brought
a weapon of some kind?

Who the fuck is she?

She's my boss.

So, why is she pointing
a gun at you?

I don't know, Julie,
why don't you ask her?

Well, boss lady?

You did bring a gun,
didn't you?

Yeah.

For protection.

Okay, then take it out.

And aim it
at Mr. Crowe, please.

JULIE: Why?

So you can shoot him...

With safety.

Do it!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

So, he works for you, huh?

Not anymore.

But she told you
what to do, right?

You bet, Julie.

Every single step.

(GUNFIRE)

(GLASS SHATTERING)

(GUNFIRE)

(BULLET CASING TINGS)

(EXHALES FAINTLY)

(CHOKES)

SMITTY: (OVER RECORDER)
Okay. You work with Crowe.

NELSON: (OVER RECORDER)
Swell. Now that that's
settled, what's next?

SMITTY: Well, next we're
gonna create a little crisis
in the tool shed

by causing
Vic Grimes to lose his
bread-and-butter client.

Curl Industries.
NELSON: How?

SMITTY: Well you've turned
Judge Beach around before.

Just turn him back around.

Make sure he votes
against Curl, and...

For Cross Creek.

The crippled kids.

You like it?

NELSON: Oh, very much.
SMITTY: Then do it.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(POLICE SIREN WAILING)

The US Attorney's office
is almost across the street.

If you send this
Airborne Express,

it'll have to go all the
way to Ohio and back.

Just send it.