The Son of No One Page #4

I'm serious.

What do you want me to do?

I don't know!

I'm going home.

Jonathan, your grandma

took the dog out.

So I was here just

looking at an old picture.

And I thought maybe you

and I could talk for a minute.

How about we go outside?

Nice day today.

Just you and me...

sit somewhere, just talk

a little bit. Is that all right?

Itll be fine. It'll be fine.

You seem a little

shook up, Jonathan.

A reason for that?

It ain't easy

growing up around here.

I could imagine,

especially without a father.

He was a good man.

Your father.

You know why I brought you

out here though, don't you?

With all of them

looking at us wondering...

what's Detective Charlie,

white Officer Charlie...

doing talking

with little white Jonathan?

What are they talking about?

And a few of them are particularly

concerned about some dead junkie...

last seen going through your door...

and then winding up about

twenty feet from that same door.

You don't know why?

You're a deer in the jungle here,

my boy.

And that fellow, Hanky...

he wasn't worth

two damn cents, Milk.

Yeah, that's what

they call you, right? Milk?

I'm just talking.

It's over.

You can go. But you hear anything,

you come talk to Officer Charlie.

Okay.

Good seeing you Jonathan!

Charlie?

Someone can tell me sitting

in my hallway is a f***ing crime?

F*** you outta here!

F*** that sh*t!

F*** you!

F*** that sh*t, motherf***er!

White, Prudenti! Come here.

Let's take a walk. Outside.

Olive Oyl, you look beautiful,

sweetheart.

F***ing asylum in there.

Jesus... Look.

I need you go over to the Gazette's

offices, over there by Ditmars.

I want you to talk

to the writer.

Tell her she's not hunting

the f***ing Son of Sam here, right?

Tell her we're fighting a war on terror

in this f***ing city already.

- No problem.

- Here, you take this.

Handle it.

Last thing we need...

is them demanding we reopen

some case 16 years ago.

None of us want that,

I imagine.

No. All right. Let's go.

- Just be safe.

- Okay.

Tell her to cut the sh*t.

I watched him die

in the heat of the sun.

Sucking up bullets

of a policeman's gun.

"Police at the 118 know."

Listen to this f***.

But Mathers said

it's bullshit though, right?

Yeah, it's all bullshit.

If he was a man, he would have

signed his f***ing name though.

God...

- Ms. Bridges?

- Lauren Bridges.

Like London bridges, right?

Just like that.

I know who you are.

Officer Prudenti.

Yeah, that's right.

- You're new?

- Yes, madam. Jonathan White.

Pleased to meet you.

- Look at this.

- You like that?

Yeah, I do.

Look at these f***ing a**holes.

So Marion sent you.

I understand why you're here.

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