The Son of No One Page #5

Captain Marion?

All I can say, as far as me

not printing them...

you came to the wrong person.

- We'd like to see the letters.

- Of course.

Tampered evidence

is wasted evidence.

You realize it's not actually evidence

until somebody gives a f*** about this.

- Are there any more?

- Only three.

Here on, the minute

they come in, I print them.

Like doughnuts, right?

I'd appreciate you stop

touching my sh*t. Thank you.

I'm sorry.

So I called Marion

after I received them...

and he couldn't give a damn.

Seems no one's interested

in the possibility...

of police doing anything corrupt,

since this whole 9/11 debacle.

You must feel

like a real reporter then.

We have

a circulation of over 100,000.

You can tell me the last time

that many people...

knew a cop for a good reason?

Look, if you get another letter,

why don't you give us a call?

Officer, you do know

the hero tide will turn?

- My cell is on the back.

- Of course, you know no one...

stays loved

in New York for long.

What do you think?

What do I think?

I think she's a dyke.

Hello?

Milk?

Please, don't hang up.

You know, I would never

do any of that stuff.

Vin, I didn't see

anything anyways.

Do nothing. I swear.

I swear I wasn't gonna do nothing.

He just said,

if I didn't...

he'd tell my mother

to put me back in the hospital.

And if they put me back

in that hospital...

I can't do anything,

if anything happens to you.

I can do nothing.

What are you

talking about, Vin?

You don't think I'm a f*ggot,

Milk, I'm not a f*ggot right?

No.

You're the only f***ing person

in this whole world I can trust.

I hate it.

I hate it here so f***ing much.

I f***ing hate it here.

Me too.

Listen, Milk.

In my mother's

boyfriend's apartment...

he has a thousand dollars.

I saw it, Milk.

A thousand dollars.

That's a lot of money.

I got the key.

I got the key to his apartment.

I can go in.

I can find it, Milk.

I know where it is. I saw it.

I can take it. And, man,

we can get outta here, Milk.

We can get outta here.

Okay.

What's up, Milk?

You kids are cold-blooded.

Killing junkies, partying

and sh*t afterwards.

Vinny up there...

sucking his mama

boyfriend dick.

F*** is that about?

Hanky OD'd in my apartment.

OD'd?

F***er jumped in the bathtub

for one last bath.

Gun went off.

I could see that.

Anyway,

Hanky was a no-good junkie.

Junkie with a $300 tab

and a gun like this.

When I'm putting

the pieces together...

pieces of a f***ing murder.

Somebody, definitely,

killed Hanky...

except me.

I'm not going to the cops.

They could give two shits about me.

I just want the $300

he owed me.

Listen, little man.

I want $300 or I'm gonna go

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