Twilight

Thanks, amigo.

Hola. Dos Coca-Colas, por favor.

I found her.

What, right now?

About 10 feet away.

Yeah, him, too.

Tomorrow afternoon,

if I can get a flight out.

I gotta tell you, I feel like a...

Yeah.

Finding her is the hard part,

the rest is easy.

- Jeff.

- Huh?

Do you love me?

Yeah!

Course I love you.

I mean, it's OK if you don't.

I wouldn't be here if I didn't.

Let me guess, my parents sent you?

My father won't be happy

you were manhandling me!

I feel like sending up a flare.

What's going on?

- What are you doing?

- No concern of yours.

Pally, hands off her!

- Come on.

- Hey!

You ought to take lessons, pally.

Listen, she's 17 years old,

and I'm taking her home.

Don't try anything.

What shall I do with this?

Oh, God!

I'm sorry!

I'm really sorry, mister.

I'm really and truly sorry.

- Give me the gun.

- You're not gonna die, are you?

God, they'll throw me in jail.

And they'll throw me

in jail in Mexico!

- Coffee?

- No, thanks.

Cigarette?

I quit.

All right, let's get started.

It's October 20th, 1997,

at approximately 0127 hours.

This is a tape-recorded interview

conducted at...

My name is Harry Ross.

And here's the way my life has gone.

First I was a cop,

then a private detective.

And then... a drunk.

Also, in there somewhere,

a husband and a father.

You'd think, with all that, that

the world loses its power to seduce.

But you'd be wrong.

- Harry.

- Yeah?

Honestly, Harry...

...did you see me

in 'The Last Rebel'?

Yeah.

And you saw me

in 'The End of Desire'.

Yeah.

You've seen everything

there is of me to see.

I remember a movie

your husband made.

He shot 12 guys with a six-shot. I ain't

arguing with that kind of marksmanship.

It's safe to turn around now.

- You got a light?

- Yeah.

I'm also short a cigarette.

Thanks.

- What's your ration for the day?

- Seven.

Eight yesterday, six tomorrow.

- How many so far?

- Twelve.

- Including this one?

- No.

If you don't light it yourself,

it's free.

Harry!

My wife'll never sleep with you!

Come and play cards!

If my lame-brain husband asks you

if I'm still angry, the answer's yes!

- What's he done now?

- Bouncing cheques...

...making withdrawals without telling

me, not listening to his doctor.

In short, being Jack.

In short... being Jack.

One game.

I gotta go into town

and get this thing fixed.

- How much do I owe you?

- $4,600,000.

- How much?

- $4,500,000.

In change.

I don't mean to be critical, but pink

shirts with the little polo players on?

- It was a gift.

- Beware the person who gave you it.

- You gave it to me.

- Really? Me? Are you sure?

- You said you picked it out yourself.

- Thanks.

By the way...

...how much do you get these days?

- Not much.

- No, I mean for detective work.

- I don't do that any more.

I want you to run an errand for me.

Give this to a woman

named Gloria Lamar.

Here's the address.

Put it in her hand, OK?

You think it's blackmail, right?

Well, it's not. You satisfied?

I hope it won't be a problem,

'cause I don't carry a gun.

No problem, Harry.

Don't be such a wimp!

It's a lot less bother

than going to Mexico.

You never paid me for that.

- You're living here rent-free.

- I'm working here salary-free.

Don't worry, I know what I owe you.

That's what worries me.

I gather you don't want

Catherine to know about this.

You gather right.

Gin.

Dick!

"There's nothing

that concentrates the mind..."

"...like the prospect of death."

Samuel Johnson.

I'll do the math, if you don't mind.

It's official.

I'm no longer in remission.

I'm trying to count.

Rate this script:(0.00 / 0 votes)