Mr. Stussy. Do you know what Lenin said about Beethoven's Piano Sonata Number 23? Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, not the bloody walrus. He said, "I know nothing that is greater than the Appassionata, but I cannot listen too often. It affects one's nerves, and makes one want to say kind, stupid things, and stroke the heads of those who, living in such a foul hell, can create such beauty. Better to beat the person unmercifully over the head." Where are you, Mr. Stussy?
There's been an accident.
Things of consequence rarely happen by accident.
Give me the address and I'll leave immediately.
I'm so rarely seen, maybe I don't even exist.
[Varga looks over to the living room, where Meemo whistles, having appeared from nowhere and examining Ray's body.]
You called for help. This is what help looks like.
I wanted to find his pulse, but I was afraid.
Afraid you'd leave fingerprints? Where else might we find your fingerprints?
So the knob, inside and out.
And, uh, that frame, the glass.
MMeemo
Bury the body, missing person?
[walks over and picks up a picture frame] No. Collect the frame and the stamp, and leave the glass. [to Emmit] Is there someplace you're supposed to be right now? [taps Emmit's forehead] Is there someplace you're supposed to be right now?
What time is it? [Varga shows Emmit his watch] A meeting, a dinner.
Which is it, a meeting or a dinner?
Never mind, never mind. Listen, this is important. If the restaurant has a back door, go to the bathroom and wash your face and hands in very cold water, then go the table. That way, if any witnesses see you, they won't be able to time your arrival. Do you understand?
Emmit! Look at me. Are you listening?
Your brother...was killed, by his ex-convict girlfriend. He'd been abusing her, you see? Beating her in places that don't show. And tonight she'd had enough, so she cut his throat. And watched him bleed. Now, the police will contact you tonight to inform you of his death. Be upset, not too upset. Volunteer nothing, you haven't seen him for days, you haven't spoken to him–
I called him on his cell.
Right. Well, there'll be a record of that. Did you speak for long?
All right. Well, it's just a quick call, just to catch up, innit? Be vague.
No one ever does. [to Meemo] Walk him to his car, out in the back. Make sure you're not seen.
[shows Nikki a picture of Ray's corpse] He’s dead, in case you couldn't tell. Lady cop who printed you said you're a little tender. Around the middle, maybe? Got some bruises. See, I'm a simple guy. When it snows, I put on boots. Sun comes out, I wear shades. I see a girl like you and a guy like that, I think, "Now, how’s a working man with hillbilly hair and a beer belly land Miss State Penitentiary 2010?" And then I get the record. I see the girl has got 18 months’ probation, and the guy with his head half cut off was the schlub who signed the forms. Now it starts to make sense. I mean, stop me if I get it wrong, if this wasn't some kind of tit-for-tat handjob-gets-you-work-release program. If it was, whatever. Love story of the century. No? That’s what I thought. See? Simple things. Cause and effect, crime and punishment. Mash a potato, you know what you get? Mashed potatoes.
Yeah? Well, that’s a mistake. Think it through. The evidence, shared domicile, you, a known felon, spinning a web of lies. History of domestic violence with a beer-drinking loser. You don’t have to be a mathematician to add two plus two. No. Your best bet? Tearjerker. What a monster he was. How he beat you every night where it wouldn’t show.
[Nikki says nothing]
[sighs] Okay. We’re done. I’ll leave the picture, in case you're the type of girl who likes to take pride in her work.
Sy said your husband died.
That's not—we don't need to...
RGRuby Goldfarb
It's fine. My Walt. It'll be a year in May since he passed. Did you lose someone?
Stella. 25 years. She left last week. Sex tape. Not a real one, of course—I mean, it was a real sex tape, but not my, y'know... forgery. To the end of securing a payout. Which, y'know, that's the price of it, I guess, being rich.
RGRuby Goldfarb
I don't know...
Enemies, I'm sayin'. Not at first. First come the well-wishers with their fake smiles. Then, the richer you get, here come the deadbeats with their hands out.
You know, it's getting pretty late...
The jackals laughing in the dark, trying to pick the meat off your bones.
RGRuby Goldfarb
Money is a blessing and a curse.
No, don't blame money! It's people. Sore losers. Making up stories about how we're villains. The dreamers, the hard workers. In the office before dawn. Toiling, saving... Ebenezer Scrooge and the like. Have you heard of the vile maxim?
"All for ourselves and nothing for other people is the vile maxim of the masters of mankind." You think a rich man wrote that?
PMPaul Marrane
Can I show you something?
[Marrane reaches into a box and pulls out an orange kitten]
[Marrane hands the kitten to Nikki, who cuddles it]
PMPaul Marrane
Ray is the cat.
PMPaul Marrane
His name. I call him Ray. I know, that's not really a cat's name, but when I looked at him, that's the name that stuck. But this is how it is, I think.
I want you to picture an island, a tropical island. Somewhere warm. The South Pacific, perhaps. Can you see it? Now, I want you to imagine that on this island, one day in September 1945, a load of paper fell from the sky. Leaflets dropped in their hundreds by the Allied forces to tell the Japanese soldiers stationed there that the war was over. The Emperor has surrendered. But down below, one man refused to believe. Lieutenant Hiroo Onoda. A man of honor, values. And as the rest of the world went about its business - 1946, '47, '50, '64, '71 - as peace was made and a Cold War fought, Hiroo Onoda battled on. A tireless soldier of the Emperor's Imperial Army, and the last man to die for an ideal.
[tearfully, about Ray] He was just a boy. He used to follow me around after school - "Emmit, play with me. Emmit, watch this."
Is the Bible a children's book? What we're doing here, the sober affairs of men. These are feats of great strength and cunning and fortitude. Not child's play, not "the best you can do". Nobody remembers the second man to climb Mt. Everest. That's it. Sleep now. Everything will be clearer in the morning.
Our dad. At his club, rain or shine, every Saturday. He had that thing all dads have after 30 years of wearing socks, where the hair gets worn away, so he's basically bald from the shins down. [chuckles] I was on the drive, you know, throwing a ball against the house, a tennis ball. Wasn't supposed to, but he was gone, so... And Ray's someplace, kitchen probably, he was always eating, that kid. Real chubby. And then, Dad's home. He had this old Mercedes diesel, you could hear it on the come. So I hide the ball and he pulls in. Not out of the car ten seconds, when down he goes, flat on his face. One minute, he's waving hello, the next, just drops like - like the lights go out. [pause] I killed him.
Ray. First I tricked him, then I killed him. Like no days had passed. Like one thing goes and then another. Like you whack a tennis ball back and forth.
You can't win this game, you do realize that?
I thought you didn't play games.
I'm offering you a fortune, you're asking for a piggy bank. Porquoi?
Because I wanna hurt you, not be your pet. I wanna look you in the face and rip out something you love.
I didn't kill him. You do know that? It was Emmit.
Wasn't Emmit who came for me in the precinct. Wasn't Emmit who flipped that bus.
You know, I didn't have any feeling about you before, but now I'm starting to really dislike you.
Good. [gets up to leave] I'll give you 'til tomorrow to get my money.
Got married straight out of high school to a guy I knew since fifth grade summer camp. Summer wedding. Guests were mostly mosquitoes. We had a baby boy, then a toddler, now a teen. Last year, my husband phones me at work, tells me he's got a boyfriend named Dale. Says they're moving in together. Says he's sorry. He loves me, but not like that. "What else is there?" I say. You think the world is something, then it turns out to be something else.
