Gorky Park Page #2

---

To stop, have a meat pie,

pass around the vodka.

So I've brought food. There's vodka in

our bellies. We're feeling good, relaxed.

Then...

- You shoot from your pocket.

- Shoot your own foot that way.

Forensic found traces of leather

in the bullet wounds.

A bag. You brought the food

in a leather bag with the gun.

We're friends.

Enjoying ourselves.

We leave the paths for a secluded place.

We are all alone.

I am handing out the food from the bag.

And I don't suspect a thing

as you lift the bag close to my chest.

What about the noise? Wouldn't the

other two call out? Wouldn't they run?

- Well, they don't know what's happening.

- But the noise!

Hey!

Hey!

The noise would make them run. It...

What? What did you say?

- You know what you just did?

- We're missing something.

- Yes, you went through a red light.

- Concentrate. No fingertips, no face.

Why? To make identification difficult. But

the killer shoots the two men in the head.

- Why?

- And he risks making even more noise.

Yes, but if he sliced off their faces, what's

the point of shooting them in the mouth?

- What do you have in your mouth?

- My tongue.

Your teeth.

Your teeth!

Gutta-percha.

- He had root-canal work, the redhead.

- Meaning?

Dentists in Europe don't use gutta-percha,

only the Americans.

Finally, and overwhelmingly,

the dental technique suggests

that the victim is an American.

Arkady.

Would you...?

Excited, are we?

I think we've got enough

to dump this case.

I've just seen the report from Ballistics.

- What weapon?

- It's a 7.65mm pistol.

And that's a KGB gun.

Is it that shithead Pribluda?

That's like asking if a girl's a virgin when

I see her in bed with a man on top of her.

Well, what man?

Oh!

- Am I missing a joke?

- It's about your friend, Major Pribluda.

What do you mean, "my friend"?

What is it?

I've been asked to lamskoy's dacha.

He's throwing a weekend party

and he wants to talk to me.

- That's a great honour, Comrade Renko.

- Well, well, well.

You'll have to tidy yourself up.

What?

Oh, yes.

Well, well. A weekend at the lamskoys'.

Now, is it because your father

was a hero of the Soviet army? No.

God knows, it can hardly be

because of your charm or elegance.

Not all weekend, Anton. Just today,

long enough to get our host into a corner.

So... what are you up to?

- I'm saving a life.

- Whose?

Mine. I'm on a case that reeks of KGB

involvement and I've got to be extra...

Wouldn't you two

rather have good Soviet vodka?

No, Natasha, wicked French wine will do.

Who is that?

That is Jack Osborne.

An American.

He comes here

to buy our sable pelts.

Well, it is the only place

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes