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.

Doctors are suggesting something

they call aggressive therapy.

I respectfully declined.

My wife is very angry with me

at the moment.

She says

I'm taking the coward's way out.

I've a year and 10 months maximum.

You OK about this?

No, as a matter of fact.

Hanging!

What?

"The prospect of hanging..."

"...concentrates the mind."

Don't think you're the only guy

in America who watches 'Jeopardy'!

You figure out

why the dryer overheated?

It didn't, it caught fire.

There's a difference.

It caught fire 'cause nobody

cleans out the lint trap.

And this didn't help.

You think you're a member

of this family, don't you?

Well, you're not.

You're just the hired help.

Harry...

Do me a favour, stop at the market

and get some basil.

Sure.

You know what that is, that green

stuff in the produce department?

- Jack in some kind of trouble?

- Don't worry about it.

- If he were, would you help him?

- You bet.

What about me?

Would you be there for me?

What do you think?

I think it's a dumb question.

Gloria Lamar!

Miss Lamar?

Hey!

I was supposed to meet

Gloria Lamar here and...

I was supposed to deliver a package.

One thing you can count on

as a private investigator is that...

...any time a client says,

"You don't need a gun,"

that's when you ought to bring two.

The guy was dead, but before

he was dead he was a very sick man.

As it turns out, his name

was Lester Ivar, a retired cop.

I went to the address

on his driver's licence,

a run-down joint called

Sun Rise Court on Monte Vista.

The back door was open,

so I let myself in...

OK, Lester, talk to me.

Hands up! Hold it right there!

Interlace your fingers behind

your head and slowly walk forward!

Yes, sir.

Turn around!

Don't move.

It's all right.

Harry?

Verna?

It's been a long time.

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