Lonely Hearts Page #2

watch the greyhounds run?

Think you can wait... for me?

Oh, I can wait.

The question is, can you?

Hey, you're a little kitty cat.

Toodle-loo.

Toodle-loo.

Maybe he skinned out

'cause she was broke.

Or maybe he was afraid

she was a keeper.

Either way, Martha had him...

figured at Hello.

Thou anointest my head with oil,

my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall

follow me all the days of my life.

And I will dwell in the house

of the Lord... forever. Amen.

Dorothy.

My deepest sympathies.

Well thank you.

I'm sorry. Raymond...

Martin.

I was a customer of your husband's.

He was a tough...

but honest businessman.

And I know he'll be missed,

that son of a gun.

What company...

you with?

Bradley Coachworks in Cleveland.

I manage receivables.

So you know our...

account man, Ben Chadwick.

Of course.

Ben, he's a good man.

Anybody who knew

my father knew he was...

a son of a b*tch.

And Ben Chadwick's

been dead five years.

Oh my... god!

Oh my god!

My husband's company has been

a loyal customer for many years.

In spite of your...

disregard for the deceased,

he did a fair business with us.

And it's disgraceful

that you'd humiliate a...

patron on this, of all days.

Shame on you!

Shame on you.

Let's go, baby.

Let's go, baby.

Shame on you!

Come on.

Are you okay?

I'm okay.

It's hard to say whose...

voodoo was working on who.

But the day them

two figured each other out

was the beginning of

a bad end for a lot of people.

So what's up with Rene?

You don't need to know.

What, she's got those uh,

silver dollar summits.

Am I right?

Come on.

A week's pay for confirmation.

You don't make enough, Charlie.

Well that's true.

- Slow down here.

- Leave it alone.

- Slow down. Slow down.

- Leave it alone.

No-no, come on, stop.

Come on.

Stop.

What're you doing?

- Borrowing money?

- Shut... the f*** up.

What're you doing?

Back up! Back up, now!

Back up, sh*t stick.

We gotta get him to County.

You're not putting...

that bloody mess in my car.

Let's go.

What?

Look. Look at my car.

It's full of blood.

Next time you take the train.

I'm sorry.

Oh.

I'll pay for it.

My ass.

What're you trying to do anyway,

get yourself killed?

Baker Baker.

Baker Baker, you up?

Two Baker Baker.

Deceased female in Wantaugh,

twenty-seven thirty-two Merrick Road.

Possible suicide.

Uh, we're ten-ten.

Detective Reilly

requested you, sir.

I've been babysitting this

f***in' midget for a year, now.

Let's just go.

- With you?

- Yeah.

- Nah.

- No-no, let's just do it.

Come on.

Two Baker Baker en route.

It's raining out there.

You know if she had

any family or relatives?

I, you know, I don't... know.

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