City Heat Page #5

- Good.

Getting plenty of raw meat, are you?

- Huh?

- That's good.

- Say, "The Leith police dismisseth us."

- What?

- It's a test they give radio announcers.

- What?

- You don't wanna be a radio announcer?

- No.

- C'est la vie, Tuck.

- Yeah.

- Hello, Freddie.

- Well, Murph.

Care for a taste?

- I'm full of tea.

- (LAUGHING)

You're supposed to flush that,

not smoke it.

Now, don't razz my ass, Mike. I'm low.

- Why?

- Ginny.

I do some fine coin with her singing.

And she hits them notes real nice.

You worried about business, Freddie?

What the hell, Mike,

I never could jive you, hmm?

I'm worried about her.

Last night when Dehl was dumped,

he was here, wasn't he?

Mmm-hmm.

He came here about 8:00 to see Ginny?

Mmm-hmm. Yeah. Ginny and the bookkeeper.

Thanks a lot, Freddie.

And kill those before they kill you.

(CHATTERING AND LAUGHTER)

- It's black tie, sir.

- Thank God I've got one.

MAN:
Everybody's going.

Pres, Buffy, Boo, Binky, everyone.

- WOMAN:
Well, just pull it out.

- MAN:
Yes.

I love it when you talk that way.

He'll never know the difference if I...

Mike! Finally!

(CLEARS THROAT)

- Keith, this is Michael Twitchell Murphy.

- Hi.

- Where does the "Twitchell" come from?

- The milkman.

(CAROLINE CHUCKLES)

- Mike, this is Keith Stoddard, Esq.

- Where's the "esquire" come from?

Is that Mama the heiress

or Papa the pirate?

Oh, Mike.

How'd you like to step outside, smart guy?

Oh, I don't think so.

See, I'm gonna go upstairs and try to put

a twinkle in both of Caroline's eyes.

If I'm not too tired afterwards, though,

I'll come down

and pop your face inside out.

Good night, Keith.

(SNORING)

(MUMBLING)

I don't know how you got in here, copper,

but you're not gonna get out so easy.

Well, maybe I'll use you as a shield,

blind those goons of yours

with your jammies.

What do you want?

They picked a 9mm slug out of Dehl Swift.

What's a Dehl Swift?

You won't mind

if I take this along for ballistics?

You're not gonna take this gun

without a warrant.

I wasn't planning to.

Oh, Mother! Jesus!

(SIGHS)

Just want the bullet.

I'm kind of scared, Mike.

It'll be light soon.

I'm falling in love with you, Murphy.

Real love. And it scares me.

I know what you mean.

Say that again.

Well, I should be running.

It's getting a little late, you know?

You son of a b*tch!

- You can't say it, can you?

- What?

You tried, but you couldn't,

you big palooka!

Where you going?

I pour my heart out,

and you put your pants on. You dope!

Big palooka-dope!

- Son of a b*tch!

- (DOOR CLOSING)

Morning, angel.

- This just came.

- Hmm?

- It's addressed to Dehl.

- In his own handwriting.

Oh, yeah?

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