The Client

.

RADIO: 'Two o'clock in Memphis...'

-Ricky?

-What?

-Come back here!

I'll be late. You be in by dark. Watch out for your brother, Mark.

-I can watch out for myself.

-Cannot!

-Why must you watch out for me?

-I'm older, stupid!

Mom, he called me stupid.

Don't be reading any more of them scary comics, Ricky. He can't sleep.

Shit. I'm gonna miss my bus. I'll be late again.

I'll be docked, for sure.

There's some macaroni and cheese in the cabinet, OK?

OK. Got your lunch?

Thank you, baby.

Keys?

Um... Yup!

Exact change for the bus?

Ah, shoot, baby. Thank you.

I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on.

-Stay out of them woods.

-OK, Mom.

-Hear me?

Bye, baby.

-Mark, give me a cigarette!

-No way!

-Wait!

-Catch me, and I'll give you one.

-I can't!

Catch me!

-Wait, Mark!

-Hurry, or you won't get your smoke.

We're not supposed to be in the woods.

Come get me!

Come on!

Wait, Mark!

Come on, Ricky! Catch me!

Come on! Give me one!

No way, pal!

-I'll tell Mom.

-Tattle-tale!

-You know the deal.

-Yeah. If I tell, you'll kick my ass.

-If you smoke more than one a day...

-I know. You'll kick my ass again.

-How many do you smoke a day?

-One. I'm smart.

-Will one a day kill me?

-No. But more than that may.

-How many does Mom smoke?

-40.

-Whoa. What about Dad?

-A hundred.

-He'll die soon.

I wish! Sit there.

Don't try to swallow the smoke.

You're not ready. You'd choke, and puke everywhere.

Suck a little, and blow.

HE COUGHS

Told you not to swallow the smoke!

This is easy!

You're about to puke!

Am not!

-Where is he going?

-Shh!

-What's he doing?

-Shhh!

Damn! Damn! Oh!

HE BREATHES HEAVILY

Damn!

Damn!

Son of a bitch!

He's trying to kill himself!

-How do you know?

-I saw it on TV.

-Why does he want to kill himself?

-How am I supposed to know, stupid?!

Let's get out of here.

No. Stay here. If you move, I'll kick your ass.

What are you gonna do?

(Mark!)

(Mark!)

-Let's go!

-I'll make sure he's OK.

-Is he dead?

-I don't know.

Ohhh!

Damn!

Nothin' works! Nothin' works!

He is crazy.

Damn!

HE MUTTERS INCOHERENTLY

Let's go, Markie. Please.

-If he kills himself and we know... we're in trouble.

-We won't tell.

Just let him die.

We're not leaving until I say.

Stay down!

(Mark!)

(Let him die!)

You bastard!

Bastard!

Sit there! Don't touch the damn door!

HE SOBS

Sorry, kid. You had to be a cute ass.

You had to stick your dirty little nose in my business.

So, I think we should die together.

You and me, pal.

Off to la-la land.

Sweet dreams.

You want that gun?

-No, sir.

-Why are you lookin' at it?

-I wasn't, sir.

-Don't lie!

If you lie, I'll kill you.

Please don't kill me, sir. I have a mother and brother to take care of.

Either I blow your brains out and end it now...

or we could let the gas do it.

You decide.

-What's your name?

-Mark.

Mark Sway.

Jerome Clifford. Attorney-at-law.

Since we're both tired right now...

you can call me Romey.

Shhh!

Listen. Hear that bird?

I drove up from New Orleans to hear those stupid birds. Grew up here.

I played in these woods. Now I'll die here, too.

-Why are you doing this?

-If I don't kill myself, he will.

-Who's he?

-The Blade.

Barry "The Blade" Muldano.

Why does this Blade guy want to kill you?

I know where the proverbial body is buried.

Whose body?

HE SOBS QUIETLY

See, my client killed Senator Boyd Boyette and hid the body.

So now my client, he wants to kill me.

I know where the body is buried.

He hid the body.

It's still buried there.

The FBI dug up half of New Orleans, but they're not going to find it.

Go for it!

Go ahead, Mark!

Pull the trigger! Yeah! Pull the trigger.

PULL THE GODDAMN TRIGGER!

PULL THE TRIGGER!

PULL IT!

Pretty nifty piece, huh?

Hell, I don't even know if it works.

Let's see if it works.

HE SCREAMS

It works!

-Come back here!

-Ricky!

Ricky, damn you, come on!

Son of a bitch!

Hey! Where are you?!

Goddamn kid!

Hey!

Come back here, kid.

If The Blade finds out what I told you, he's gonna kill you anyway.

Shhh!

Do you hear me, kid?

Where are you?

GUNSHOT

RICKY SCREAMS IN TERROR

-Put my drink on the bill.

-All right.

I waited half an hour.

Where's Romey? Damn Feds are on my ass.

Mr Muldano!

I don't know. He hasn't been in all day.

Now, Claudette. God hates a liar. That's what my mother always said.

I'm not lying. Honest to God, I don't know where he is.

You know, Claudette...

you're a very pretty woman.

Thank you, Mr Muldano.

You want to stay pretty, don't you?

Please. I'm just a secretary.

Honest to God, I don't know. He didn't say where he was going.

Put your hand in there.

PUT YOUR HAND IN HERE!

I don't know, honest.

Shhh!

Put your hand in.

Please, I don't know where he is.

SHE SCREAMS

SHE WHIMPERS

You know, Claudette. I believe you really didn't know.

There you go.

What's up, kid?

What are you so scared of? Did you have a bad dream?

You're scaring me. Get your thumb out.

Come on, baby.

Where have you been? What's wrong with your brother?

What did you do? What's going on?

Boys witnessed a suicide, ma'am.

What?!

Me and Ricky was out in the woods.

We saw this guy and he was dead with a gun in his mouth.

Oh, my dear God!

I ran home and called 911.

What happened to Ricky?

He just laid on the bed, sucking his thumb and wouldn't talk.

Call paramedics to Sway's trailer.

He needs to be hospitalised.

I don't have health insurance.

St Peter's takes indigent cases. Pack up some things for him.

SIREN BLARES

You tellin' the truth, son?

-About what you saw?

-Don't you believe me?

I didn't say that.

It's just strange that you called 911, but wouldn't leave your name.

I was scared. I never saw a dead guy before.

-Why did you sneak back?

-I just wanted to see, I guess.

Did you talk to the man?

Before he killed himself?

No.

Know the name Jerome Clifford?

No.

I found fresh cigarette butts.

Near the body. Same brand as your mom smokes.

I can't see you finding the body...

then having a cigarette.

Look, officer, all that happened was, we found Romey dead.

Who's Romey?

-Ain't that his name?

-I said Jerome Clifford.

Whoever heard of the name "Romey"?

SIREN WAILS

I'm Dr Greenway. Is this your son?

-Yes.

-What's his name?

-Ricky Sway.

-How long has he been this way?

-My other boy, Mark, found him.

'Jerome Clifford, New Orleans attorney, was found dead

'in an apparent suicide near Memphis just hours ago.'

'The Mafia lawyer was to defend the alleged hit-man, Barry Muldano,

'in the notorious case of Senator Boyd Boyette, presumed dead.'

'It was gonna be tough to build a case against Muldano with no body.

'Clifford's death will cause delay.

'The plot thickens and sickens.'

'No body, no case, no conviction.'

'And no front-page pictures that Attorney Foltrigg likes so much.'

'No CNN interviews. No speedy ascent to Capitol Hill.'

-I never liked that old cow.

-We're here, Roy.

He tried it with a hose attached to the tail pipe but it didn't work.

Too full of downers and whiskey.

He swallowed a bullet for dessert. Single gunshot wound to the head.

-Definite suicide.

-I called Romey only two days ago.

I said I had enough evidence to put his ass on the stand. I didn't.

I was just tryin' to make him talk. Didn't know he'd blow his scalp off.

He knew where that body was.

He can't tell us now. Without the body, there's no case.

Sprite?

What happened to your face?

I got in a fight at school.

It's summer. There is no school.

I mean a kid from my school.

-Who was the kid?

-Why?

-I'm a cop.

It's my job to ask questions. Your story's full of holes.

You were in that car before Clifford died.

-What does "indigent" mean?

-Indigent? That means poor.

Like you and your mother and your brother. You better tell the truth.

Hope this snaps him out of it.

Or he could go to some institution for dirt poor crazy people...

with padded walls and cockroaches, chained to some filthy bed...

with snakes...

Mark? I'm Karen.

Will you come with me?

Bye.

Bye.

-DOCTOR:

-We'll watch him all night.

Sometimes they just need a good night's sleep.

Yeah?

His reflexes seem to be good.

That's good. Mark, honey... he's real sick.

-What's wrong with him?

-Post-traumatic stress syndrome.

When a person sees something they can't deal with.

I'm always telling Mark, no horror movies, no scary comics for Ricky.

He's always been tender that way.

-I tried to protect him.

-You need some rest.

There's nothing more you can do.

You've had a rough day.

That's a bad injury. What happened?

Car wreck. Got hit by an oil truck.

I'm Gill Beale. I'm a lawyer. I specialise in car raids.

Especially trucks. You got a broken leg...

-concussion, busted ribs...

-And a broken collar bone.

I can get you at least 600,000. We'll file suit tomorrow.

Six? Six was just for starters. Here.

Call Gill Beale. You'll see who's for real.

More lawyers than doctors here!

Wait till you get a load of this guy.

Mr Foltrigg? Jason McThune. FBI.

Welcome to Memphis. Home of the King.

Kid says he and his brother just stumbled on the body in the woods.

I think he's lying.

-Why?

-We lifted a set of his prints. They match prints all over the car.

I think he was in the car with him before Clifford shot himself.

-Why would the kid lie?

-One, he's scared. Two, kids lie.

Three, Romey Clifford told him things he knows he shouldn't know.

People hate to die with secrets. Good work, McThune!

Thanks, sir. I'll keep it up.

I'm tired of chasing side-kicks. Is there any room on your staff?

-Where do you want to go?

-Where you go.

-Change the hair!

-Can I see the child?

-Yes, sir.

Dr Greenway wants to see you.

-How old are you?

-24. Why?

-Are you married?

Sometimes.

I don't know nothing, but he looks better to me.

If we get him home to his own bed, he's gonna be fine.

-Mrs Sway...

-Just give him some medicine.

-Mrs Sway, listen...

-I gotta go to work. I need the rent.

Listen to me. Right now, it's as if Ricky is in a dark place.

He's trying to find a way out.

What's very important is that when he finds that way out...

the first person he sees is you. I hope it will only be a day or two.

There goes another job. I'm setting a record!

I'll call your employer.

My employer runs a sweatshop, doctor. He won't send flowers.

You can take shifts. Perhaps the father...

Ex-father. Keep him away from Ricky.

-Now, hush!

-I'm sorry.

-Well...

I don't know if you saw this.

The police and the press are here.

-The FBI is interviewing Mark at ten.

-Mom, I don't want to talk to them.

-I'll wind up like Ricky.

-They won't go away.

I don't give a shit about the FBI.

You're gettin' on my last nerve.

Now sit down and hush up.

What the hell can I do?

I'm losing my mind. You're telling me to...

Mom?

This boy.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, too.

I'll think of something to get us out of this. I promise.

You found that guy dead.

Right?

There's nothing you ain't tellin' me, is there?

The doctor wants you to take valium.

Those cost extra?

Don't worry about that. Take these. You'll feel better.

Don't go far.

FBI, huh?

I hear they're sending the Reverend Roy Foltrigg himself.

That's bad.

Do you know that the FBI puts kids in jail if they break the law?

And if a kid has been involved in a murder, they have a special...

little kid-sized electric chair about so high.

When someone is electrocuted, the current is so strong...

it makes their blood boil. DE-DE-DE!

Oh, God! Fry you up just like a piece of bacon.

You're the only pig around here.

Oh! See you later, Marcus.

ALL SHOUT OUT

-Are you here to question Mark Sway?

-Beg your pardon?

-<

-Are you here in Memphis to improve your own position?

Our real interest is to see justice done.

We'll locate the senator's body. You can count on it.

< What do you think Mark Sway knows?

You can't! What do you want, boy?

-Mr Beale.

-Where are your parents?

-Where are yours?

-Are you even injured?

-Do I look injured?

We only do injuries.

Well, I'll just go get hit by a truck and come back.

You shut up, too.

-Yes?

-Hell, no!

This damn window! Where are you going?

I'm gonna pick up something to eat and swing by the post office.

All right.

Hey.

-When's your boss coming back?

-May I help you?

No. I need to see Reggie Love.

Why?

-That's between me and Mr Love.

-I'm Reggie Love.

A woman lawyer. Oh, great(!)

Why do you think you want a lawyer?

I don't WANT one. I hate lawyers.

Every lawyer I had...

shafted me and my mom. I NEED a lawyer. But not a woman.

The lawyer who shafted you. What was her name?

-It was a he.

-Right.

Well, why do you think you need a lawyer?

-Because I'm Mark Sway.

-So?

The kid who found the dead guy.

You didn't answer my question.

-I have to talk to Reverend Roy in ten minutes.

-Foltrigg?!

Yeah. Why is he called "Reverend"?

He loves to quote the Bible in court.

-Does he win a lot?

-Always.

Why can't they leave me alone? A sweaty, fat guy kills himself...

-Why did you lie?

-I didn't.

-You said you found him dead.

-I did.

Uh-huh.

Dead men don't sweat, now do they?

If you was my lawyer and I told you something, could you ever repeat it?

No. What do you want to tell me?

Well, that Clifford guy...

drove up in this big, black car.

Me and Ricky snuck up to watch.

That Clifford got out and blew the back of his head off.

So you saw Jerome Clifford alive?

-Yeah.

-Why did you lie to the police?

I don't know. I was scared.

Ricky's in a coma. Mom might lose her job.

The FBI's after me, but I don't know nothing. You'd lie, too.

Well, you're right. You do need a lawyer, Mark Sway.

Want me to recommend a male lawyer?

How many cases have you won?

-More than I've lost.

-How much do you cost?

How much do you have?

SEAGULLS CRY

9.32am. Our boy has arrived.

Thank God your mother, my sister, is dead.

Having a son this stupid would have killed her for sure.

I told you not to hit Boyette.

You did. I told you not to tell Romey too much. You did.

That fat bastard! I hope that bullet was slow.

I hope he felt his head blow off.

Two kids found him. Maybe before he'd finished.

-I know. I seen it on TV.

-There's a chance he may have talked.

-Is Boyette's body well hidden?

-They won't find it.

Move the body, Barry.

I will, Uncle Johnny, only I can't right now.

Why?

Where it's at, the body, the cops are swarming all over the place.

They're not going to find the body.

If the kid knows anything, he's not talking or I wouldn't be here.

I'll go to Memphis and take care of the kids.

You just sit on your dumb ass.

Gronke? I want you in Memphis.

Uh-huh.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Come!

-You must be Mark.

-Hi, Mark. Jason McThune.

Memphis FBI. This is Larry Trumann, New Orleans FBI.

Thomas Fink, assistant US attorney.

And Mr Foltrigg, US attorney. Both from Louisiana.

Sit down, son.

Come over here, Mark, and sit down.

Where's your mother, Mark?

Upstairs with my little brother. She can't leave in case he wakes up.

But we could hold this off for a couple of days...

No, Mark. Let's talk a few minutes. Just us.

-Nervous?!

-A little.

HE LAUGHS

-Do I need a lawyer?

-What for?

To protect my rights.

We just want to ask questions.

-You can trust us.

-Lawyers just get in the way.

-And if I don't answer the questions?

-We'd take you and your mom away.

-Will my mother be in trouble?

-Obstruction of justice...

is a federal offence. If you know about a crime and withhold things...

from the FBI, you might be punished. Sent to jail or something.

So if I don't answer your questions, I could go to jail?

Maybe.

If you was in my place, wouldn't you want a lawyer?

Hell, no. They're a pain in the ass.

-Pain in the ass?

-Mm-hm.

But aren't you a lawyer?

-You didn't find Clifford dead.

-I did.

We know you were in that car, Mark.

See that?

You and Romey had a nice, long chat.

What was it about? Life? Love?

-Or where bodies are buried?

-I have to go to the bathroom.

Answer the question.

-I have to go. Please.

-You better go.

-Thanks.

He don't need no stinkin' lawyer!

That boy's about ready to tell all.

We better reach out and grab Muldano so he don't skip town.

Why don't we do a press conference right here?

I want to check affidavits first.

Did you get my make-up off the airplane?

Pancake number 17. Get doughnuts!

Where are we going to put me? I think I look best in front of...

the glass bricks with microphones.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Come in, Mark. Polite kid!

Yeah.

-Keep your seats.

-I think you're in the wrong room.

I don't think so. I'm Reggie Love, an attorney. I represent Mark Sway.

May I see some ID, please?

When did he hire you?

That's none of your business.

Forgive us, Ms Love. You're pretty.

How could you be mistaken for a lawyer?

Please, call me Reggie. Roy.

So...

Did you... Please, sit down!

..attempt to interrogate my client without his mother?

No.

He tells me that you did, Lawrence.

He's confused. We assumed his mom was on her way. Where were you?

That's not relevant. Did you advise him to talk to an attorney?

Er... Yes!

I remember, we said something about TV...

and Mark said that...

he might need a lawyer! And I thought he was just joking.

Did he ask if he needed a lawyer?

-I don't remember that.

-Did you advise him of his rights?

No! He's not a criminal. We just asked questions.

So you tried to interrogate him without his mother and counsel?

-Definitely not.

-No way.

Bullshit.

Tread carefully. Your client lied about being in that car.

That's the pot calling the kettle black.

-'Do I need a lawyer?'

-'What for?'

'To protect my rights.'

-'We just want to ask questions.'

-'Lawyers just get in the way.'

-You wired him.

-Nothing personal, Lawrence.

You tried to question a child without his mother.

He asked if he needed a lawyer.

You said no, because lawyers are a pain in the ass.

I'll see you in my office tomorrow at 3.00pm.

If I need anything from you...

like the truth, I expect to get it.

If I catch you lying again, I'm gonna use the tape.

That's blackmail, Ms Love.

Indict me, Reverend Roy.

Still want those doughnuts?

Shut up, McThune. Goddamn!

-Want a cigarette?

-No thanks. I just quit.

There's been a mistake, ma'am. We can't afford a lawyer.

Don't worry.

My boss fired me this morning. My baby's in a coma, and he fires me.

After just one day? He's a pig.

Wasn't much of a job, anyway. Five bucks an hour in a lamp factory.

How long you been working there?

Er... Six months. Lord, I can't keep my head on straight.

You're doin' fine.

I like your ring. Are they real diamonds?

Lord, no. It's semi-precious.

You got kids?

Gosh, you must have been just a baby when you started having babies.

I was just a dumb kid in a dream.

All I ever wanted was a white house with a walk-in closet.

Ain't that stupid?

No. Having a dream is never stupid.

Take it one day at a time, that's what I say.

# Da-na-na-na-na-na!

# Da-da-da! #

Come on, Rick. You always laugh at air guitar.

Who's the best guitarist ever?

Come on, Ricky. Say it. Yell it.

Look, Ricky. An Eskimo pissing!

Oh, God!

Ricky?

Look at you.

I shouldn't have made you stay in those woods.

But things are going to be all right, I swear.

I've got us a lawyer. She's a woman, but she's pretty darn good.

She only cost a dollar, too!

That's not it, though.

I'm really sorry.

I'll make it up to you. I promise.

Hey!

-What the hell are you doing?

-Hi. Slick Moeller. Memphis Press.

I wrote your story this morning. How's your brother?

-Get out!

-Wait. Did Jerome Clifford touch you?

Did he tell you why he was committing suicide?

Get out of here!

Did he talk to you? Tell you what. I'll pay you.

-Karen!

-Mark, are you all right?

QUIET TELEPHONE CONVERSATION

You Nance? Private investigator?

Security specialist. Who's asking?

-Gronke. I need some fast work.

-Who referred you?

Sulari. New Orleans.

I get 2,000 cash, non-refundable retainer, before I lift a finger.

Like kids?

Why do you think Foltrigg was so...

We're almost through. Please listen.

Thank you. Why was Foltrigg so convinced you were in the car?

-I don't know.

-I'm your attorney. Please trust me.

I do trust you, Reggie. I swear I wasn't in that car.

You like Led Zeppelin?

Yeah. Do you?

-Yeah. They were a great band.

-You've never heard of them!

You're one of them people who say they like...

cool bands, to get close to punks like me.

Well, I think we've covered everything.

What's your favourite Led Zeppelin song?

Er... Moby Dick. Live version. Bitchin' drum solo.

I'll pick you up tomorrow at 2.30.

What were the names of their first four albums, Miss Groupie?

Just tell Reverend Roy what you told me.

Then he won't bother us. OK?

What happens if you lie to the FBI?

It's a federal offence. You could go to jail. Why?

You weren't smoking something else, were you?

No, ma'am!

There's something you're not saying.

I'm not keeping anything from you. I was just curious.

OK. The first Led Zeppelin albums...

..were called One, Two and Three.

The fourth was untitled, but is generally referred to as Four.

See you tomorrow, groupie.

'It's the space people! They've come back!

'Hello, out there.

'Be peaceful.

'We're friendly. Don't be afraid.

'My sister will now approach you.'

Want one?

Elvis Pezley!

Elvis Pezley!

Bet it's poisoned.

She's funny, isn't she?

-Yeah.

-My boy loves her. Oh!

I'm sorry.

My boy was in a car wreck.

Drunk driver. He may not make it.

-He's only eight.

-My brother's eight. He's real sick.

-What's wrong?

-He saw something, is all.

You're not the kids who saw that suicide guy?

I seen it on TV.

Jesus! It must have been awful.

How's your brother?

-He just lays there.

-Oh, man.

-What a scary thing to see.

-I wasn't scared.

He must have been out of his mind... to stick a gun in his mouth. Why?

Was he acting weird or yelling crazy stuff?

Did he say something scary to your brother?

-That could be it.

-Well, dude, I gotta go.

-I hope he gets better.

-Yeah.

PHONE RINGS

Karen?

-Where's Karen?

-Off duty, hon. Get you anything?

Anything to eat?

-The cafeteria is open.

-All right.

Hey, kid. Can I have your autograph?

HE LAUGHS

WOMAN: I don't like that attitude.

QUIET CONVERSATION

Everything will be fine. Just fine.

You listen to me, Mark Sway. I don't know what Romey said.

But if you repeat it to anyone, I'll kill you.

Talk to the Feds and I'll kill you.

And if you tell anyone about me, I'll kill you slow.

Understand me, boy? Good. We have an understanding.

I'll be watching.

Everybody knew Muldano and Boyette worked together.

Boyette used Mafia money to build a dump.

That pissed his constituents, so he vetoed it.

Enter The Blade.

-If Foltrigg can prove it.

-Why did Foltrigg bring in Muldano?

He's running for office. What are we serving?

-It's Thursday.

-Southern pecan.

-What's wrong? Is your brother OK?

-I ain't talking to the FBI today.

Mark, you have to.

-They could subpoena you.

-Foltrigg will be here any minute.

I said, no. As my lawyer, you do what I tell you.

< Reverend Roy! I saw you on TV!

-This place is a dump.

-You can say that again.

They're coming down the hall!

Make 'em go away. Please.

All right. Stay here, out of sight.

Something's up. I don't get it, but I'll do it. Just sit down.

Good afternoon, Ms Love.

Is young Master Sway all ready?

Roy, I'm sorry, but the meeting's been cancelled.

Oh. I beg your pardon?

I'll de-brief the child and give you a statement. He knows nothing.

We must talk to him. We have fingerprints...

putting him inside Jerome Clifford's car. All right?

Well...

(Shit.)

..how did you match his prints?

-Off a soda can at the hospital.

-Did you ask Mark?

So you invaded the privacy of a child?

Ms Love, we were trying to obtain evidence.

You have no proof they interacted.

The kid has a cut. We got blood off Clifford's ring. Not his blood type.

I'll guess! Mark's blood type?

-That's right.

-How did you obtain his blood type?

From his brother's hospital records.

-Confidential records?

-Look here...

YOU look here. If you come back...

I'll sue you, and the FBI.

I'll file a complaint and haul your ass into court.

You're playing big league hardball.

Does Mark Sway's mother know...

you were institutionalised for drug and alcohol abuse?

It was a treatment centre. Now, leave!

You've been a lawyer for two years. You're not equipped to handle this.

We know more about Mark than you. You're an amateur.

He's in danger. Think about that.

Let me talk to him.

You are so good.

But I won't let you use this child to climb into the Governor's chair.

If you try to contact my client again...

I'll put Mark on prime time news.

He can explain how you trampled his constitutional rights.

I got a tape to prove it.

We'll talk to that boy.

You miss one step, and I'll eat you alive.

Jesus Christ.

I'm gonna kill that kid!

You lied. You have three seconds to tell the truth.

You're the liar. Keep the dollar. You're fired!

Mark! Come back! Where are my car keys?!

In your purse?

Mark? Mark! Get in the car. Come on.

-No!

-Please!

-No!

Hey! Mark!

THEY ALL SHOUT

I have some questions.

How'd you like the story this morning?

Mark hired a lawyer for a reason.

The mob knows he knows where that body is. That's why Gronke is here.

We gotta get Mark before the mob does.

-We can petition for supervision.

-And protection.

We explain the kid needs protective custody.

-We make him talk.

-Say he's breaking the law.

He's obstructing justice.

File the petitions. Incarcerate him tonight.

Where are we? I thought we were just losing the reporters.

Do you see any? It's my mom's home.

-You live with your mother?!

-This is Momma Love.

Hi, Mark.

-Take me back to the hospital!

-We have some talking to do first.

-You're fired!

-Fine. You're the boss.

This is kidnapping! Take me back, right now!

I'll hitch-hike if I have to.

Go ahead!

Nice meeting you, Mark.

KNOCKING

Who is it?

-Your mother.

-Hey, Bono.

How're you doin', Paulie?

Johnny means business, bringing you here.

Where's the kid?

With that bitch lawyer. We're tailing him.

-Any sign of the Fibbies?

-A couple are watching the hospital.

I gave the kid a warning last night.

Here's the directive. We bug it all. Hospital, lawyer's office, the lot.

Find out what he knows. If that doesn't work, we kill them all.

-How's he doing?

-When he gets hungry, he'll come in.

Lucky only one car comes by here in four hours.

-That is one wilful child.

-A pain in the butt!

The pot calling the kettle black!

Hey, man. How're you doin'?

You're the kid at the hospital!

Hop in! I'll give you a ride. Come on, now. Why are you out here?

Hop in.

My boy's much better. How's your brother doing?

FOOTSTEPS RETREAT

Come back here!

Elvis has left the building.

I told you so.

Hello, there.

Take me back to the hospital.

-Want some lemonade?

-Not until we talk.

-Pie?

-Where's the phone? I need a cab.

Help yourself. It's 40 from here. Or 45. I'm not sure.

You're fired. Get that in your thick head.

Fine. I can't do my job if you hide things from me.

I had to take on Foltrigg, on your behalf, without the facts.

If I'd smelled your breath, I'd know you were a drunk.

-I think I'll be going.

-I've been sober for three years.

All drunks say that. How they'll get sober.

They say they love you.

Then they come home wasted and beat on you and your mother.

You're talking about your Daddy.

Yeah. I got rid of him.

When we went to court to buy a divorce, our lawyer sucked.

So I told the judge myself about all the beatings.

How he made us sleep in the street.

That's when my father became my ex-father. Now I got you.

You're a drunk, and a bad lawyer.

So now I'm getting rid of you.

You're fired. I can handle this.

Mark.

Mark, I used to think I could handle everything by myself.

But sometimes being strong means asking for help.

I know you take care of your family, but the FBI won't leave you alone.

-Let me help you.

-Let go!

-I need a cigarette.

-Smoking is terrible for you. Hey!

What did Romey tell you?

Why do I always have to answer questions? You never do.

Fair enough. Ask me something.

Like what?

Anything. There's no rules, no limits. You ask me and I'll answer.

-And tell the truth?

-If it takes my skin off.

All right.

What's that thing you wear round your neck?

My mamaw's compass. I wear it so I'll never lose my way again.

Anything else?

-Yeah. Are these your kids?

-Yes.

-They down in the basement?

-With their dad since the divorce.

Ever see them?

They don't really want to see me.

-Because you were drunk and on drugs?

-After the divorce I drank some, yes.

I drank a lot.

Why?

You're right. There must be a cigarette around here.

I married a big Memphis doctor,

put him through medical school. He got rich and found a younger model.

I didn't have a dollar to buy food or a car to go look for a job.

But I figured I could handle it myself, just like you.

But I was wrong.

So then you started to drink?

Uh-uh. First I stopped sleeping and eating. I stayed up...

every night, watching my babies...

and figuring what to do.

Finally, I took sleeping pills. He prescribed them.

I was not trying to kill myself.

But that's when he pounced.

He got himself a fancy lawyer. I didn't have anybody.

I figured all those years blowing noses, wiping butts...

fixing meals and carpooling kids would count for something.

I was a fool.

The court declared me "unfit".

Just like that.

They were gone.

He took my little girl and my little boy.

Anyhow. That's when I started drinking.

But I got myself sober. I stayed sober.

I put myself through law school.

Do you miss your kids?

So much, I try not to even think about them.

He told me.

Romey told me where the body is.

Do you want to tell me, Mark? I can call the police...

-and put an end to this.

-I swore I wouldn't tell.

They're gonna get me, Reggie. I saw it on TV. The mob never forgets.

They came after you, didn't they?

Yes, ma'am.

I'll get security on Ricky's room...

and get you back to the hospital.

Reggie?

I'm scared.

What's up?

He's in there. But you have to deal with the two bitches.

What do you think?

I got an idea.

It'll take a week to get that kid into protective custody.

We have to make him talk.

I want him in court, manana. Hear what I'm saying?

-Yes, but...

-I know how to solve this.

Don't you have something to do? Go wake somebody up.

Mr Foltrigg, may I have your autograph?

Of course. Thomas, move forward.

Produce results in the interests of your job security. Your name?

Our trailer...

They burned down our home. We got nothing left.

Who did?

How the hell do I know? Somebody saw two people leaving.

It's all gone. All of it.

-Mom, it's my fault!

-I'm so sorry.

It's gonna be all right. Do you have insurance?

It's none of your business.

-I didn't mean nothing by it.

-What is this crap?

Some things I brought to make you more comfortable.

I don't need charity!

-It's not...

-Stop trying to take away my son.

Mark's already got a mother.

I know. You're doing a fine job.

-I don't need your help.

-I'm sorry.

GET OUT!

Sure.

-Reggie, are you OK?

-Fine.

She's on all kinds of medication. She doesn't know what she's saying.

I had no call to speak to her that way. Lord!

I'm sorry.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Hello!

-Detective Ed Nassar, Memphis PD. Dianne Sway?

-Yeah.

I have a summons for a hearing at ten tomorrow.

The summons requires us to take Mark into custody.

-You can't take my son!

-We have to.

-Son of a bitch!

-Over my dead body.

-It's for his own good.

What's he done? Just tell me.

Somebody help me! You son of a bitch!

Calm down.

There's no reason to get excited.

We'll take care of him.

Come on.

Get your hands off me!

SHE SCREAMS

They're taking me to jail! I'm eleven. They hit my mother.

Ain't you gonna read me my rights?

-You gonna cuff me?

-This is not an arrest.

What the hell is it?!

-Watch your mouth, kid.

-Kiss my ass, you stupid jerk.

He's all yours.

Calm down.

Empty your pockets.

OK. Now follow me.

-I don't look too bad.

-You look good.

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

I twisted every arm. The kid's in custody and the hearing is tomorrow.

I knew you could do it, Jason. Well done.

One child in jail.

EXCITED SHOUTING

-What kind of place is this?

-Women's detention hall.

THEY ALL SHOUT

-Keep it down!

-Why am I with the women?!

You're a minor.

Put me where the men are.

You're safer here. You have a whole cell to yourself.

Is this solitary?

No. Choose any bed. Don't give me any trouble.

Are you OK, boy?

Can I call my mom? Just to tell her where I'm at and that I'm OK?

Please. She's probably worried sick about me.

I suppose I could run a phone in here. I'll make a little exception.

Thank you, ma'am.

'Brother's Pizza?'

-DEEP VOICE:

-I would like to order 20 large supremes.

-'Where for?'

-Detective Nasser. North Precinct.

'How will you pay for this?'

-With my credit card.

-'Your number, please.'

The number is...4000...

0306 1954...

0010.

'That will be 248 dollars and ten cents.'

Fine. That's cheaper than the last time. Thank you.

HE CHUCKLES

The hearing is tomorrow at 10.00am.

But there's three to seven days after filing a petition.

Foltrigg will do anything.

Child behind bars!

I have been all through this wallet. I found everything except my Visa.

Hey. Did you order the pizzas?

HE MUTTERS TO HIMSELF

My, my, my!

You didn't have to sign a custody order. I would have brought him in.

Good morning, Reggie!

-What's going on?

-The FBI says a Mr Paul Gronke...

and his pal, Bono...

-have arrived in our city. Heard of them?

-No.

-Your client may be in danger.

-Shit!

-What does he know?

-That's privileged, Harry.

-So he knows more than he should?

If he did, would you guarantee witness protection...

and family relocation?

This is not standard.

Damn it, Harry! Why should he talk if we can't protect him?

Forgive me, but you do seem...

over-agitated. What became of that objectivity...

we fought about at Memphis State?

After all, he is just a client.

Isn't he?

I'm sorry. I didn't get much sleep.

It's just that...

..he's never had a break and he's counting on me.

-Hey.

-Hello.

-Thanks, Doreen.

-Good luck.

Brought your jacket.

-Thanks.

-You all right?

-Yeah.

-You sure clean up good!

-You, too!

Why can't I say I know nothing?

Because it's against the law. And besides, no-one will believe you.

Not the mob, the FBI or anybody.

And besides, Muldano's a killer.

You could stop him before he hurts somebody else.

But you told the truth in court about being a good mom.

-Yes.

-The truth hurts.

They took your kids!

But if you lie, you're going to be just like them.

If I tell the truth, he'll kill me.

All right.

Have you heard of the witness protection programme?

Where they put you in moustaches...

and send you off to New Jersey or someplace to live.

I saw it on TV.

But the mob found the guy anyway, and blew his legs off.

You saw that on TV?

INDISTINCT CHATTER

No matter what I do, I could probably get killed.

Don't let them ask me any questions.

I'll try. If Foltrigg gets you on that stand...

you can't lie, or you'll be just like them. OK?

-<

-Court is in session, Ms Love.

-Mark!

My! We certainly have drawn a crowd...

this morning. Officer?

Sergeant Hardy.

Why are you wearing a gun?

-Wait!

-Thank you. You may go.

And you, Mr Moeller.

Your coverage has led me to consider indicting you...

-for reckless endangerment.

-Your Honour...

Another word and I'll add contempt.

Good day, sir.

That's better. Shall we proceed?

Your Honour, the child has no custodial parent.

I request postponement.

Thomas Fink. Assistant US attorney, Louisiana.

Concerning the absence of the child's mother.

-The position of the petitioners...

-Your position is in that chair.

Sit, and listen carefully.

-I'll only say this once.

-Judge Roosevelt...

This is not New Orleans. I'm not...

one of your federal judges. This is my private court.

The rules are, speak only when spoken to.

Do not grace me with unsolicited commentary.

And I don't like to listen to US attorneys...

who love to hear themselves speak. Understand?

-Mr Foltrigg?

-Sir!

-Fink has the prosecution case?

Yes, sir.

Try to keep his butt in that seat.

The court will act in loco parentis.

I'll watch for the child's interests...

in this hearing. Proceed.

The child moves to dismiss.

The petition was filed to exploit what the child may know.

-Quit calling me "the child".

-Quiet, young man. Proceed.

Mr Foltrigg and Mr Fink are using this as a fishing expedition.

Their evidence that...my client... had legally significant discourse...

with Clifford is circumstantial. The petition should be dismissed.

-Your Honour, if I may?

-You may.

The child is the last person to see Clifford alive. He deceived us.

Fingerprints on a car is not deceit.

We found the child's fingerprints on the hose and on the gun itself.

The child must testify to exonerate himself.

Are you implicating this child in Clifford's suicide?

No, Your Honour, we are alleging obstruction of justice.

Involvement in a suicide could constitute juvenile delinquency.

There is no basis for this.

We want the child to testify to clear his good name.

We're not forcing him to testify. Not yet.

Ms Love. Will your client testify?

-If we refuse?

-I'd have to lock him up for now.

The child wants a change of venue.

The alleged murder was in Louisiana. We should relocate there.

As US attorney for eastern Louisiana, I waive venue...

-The child declines.

-..and release...

The child declines.

-That's a pretty suit.

-Drop dead.

Settle down.

It is in everyone's best interests for Mark to take the stand.

-Your Honour...

-That's my ruling, counsellor. Mark?

I want you to take this seat by me.

It's OK.

Put up your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth?

-You have to say it.

-I swear.

Mr Fink will ask some simple questions. Understand?

-Yes, sir.

-Mr Fink.

-May I rise?

-Mr Fink.

How are you, Mark? Now, Mark.

Were you forced into the car with Mr Clifford before he died?

Yes, sir.

Did you and Mr Clifford have a conversation?

Yes, sir.

Did Mr Clifford mention Barry Muldano or Senator Boyd Boyette?

Answer the question, Mark.

-Is taking the Fifth Amendment lying?

-No.

Can I take the Fifth Amendment?

-No.

-Doesn't it apply to kids?

No. You're not implicated in Boyette's death, so you must answer.

Your Honour, as Mr Foltrigg has tried to implicate Mark...

I must, out of caution, advise my client to take the Fifth.

We've played enough games. We are all searchers for the truth.

A man has been murdered...

yet this boy remains silent.

What wanton hubris is this?

Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord, so sayeth the psalm.

That's Proverbs, 12:22.

This is a courtroom, not a church.

-Please sit down.

-Did he say where Boyette's body is?

Mr Foltrigg.

Yes, sir.

Answer the question, Mark.

I'll take the Fifth Amendment.

I can't answer any of these questions...

because I'm afraid of what will happen to me or my family.

I have no choice...

but to return you to protective custody.

Sorry. It's for your own protection.

-Make him answer the question!

-The proceedings are closed.

-I didn't lie, Reggie.

-You did great.

What kind of lawyer gets a child to plead the Fifth, go back to jail...

and delay a Federal investigation? Are you trying to ruin his life?

You did real good, Reggie.

-Are we alone?

-Yeah, we're alone. What happened?

I want a bit more this time.

-I asked you a question.

-Kid's going back to jail for safety.

-What does he know?

-I'd say he knows everything.

He's back in court tomorrow in case a night in jail changes his mind.

-You didn't hear this from me.

-Shut up!

-Give me a break!

Go powder your nose.

What is it? I'm eating.

-I talked to Gronke in Memphis.

-What can I get you?

Dos Equis.

Where's your regular waiter?

I don't know.

Cops got the kid. Can't move the stiff.

-You're a dumbass.

-We've had this conversation.

'I'm sick of it. I deserve respect.'

-Nice work, Ron.

-I'm picking it up just fine.

We need to make the move. That kid knows something.

'We're tapping his lawyer's phone.'

I hate goddamn lawyers.

-Please let me hit the kid.

-Don't worry about him.

-Let's call it quits.

-He knows!

CLATTER OF CUTLERY

Goddamn bugs!

The city's lousy with them.

You're probably right. The kid knows nothing.

They're on to us.

We're out of business.

We're putting this whole thing behind us, is that clear?

I got it, Uncle Johnny!

Regina, what are you doing?

Nothing, Momma. Go back to bed.

-Have you any idea what time it is?

-Have you seen my school notebooks?

-In the garage, maybe.

-Oh, shit. Yeah.

You need to get some sleep.

He's your client, not your child.

Damn!

Jesus!

Mark!

Mark!

Telda! Call the medic! Quick!

Medic on five, now!

Damn. The boy's soaking wet.

He's in shock!

Get a towel.

-What's going on?

->

-I don't know.

This kid's heart is about to explode. Get an ambulance!

Call an ambulance!

SIREN WAILS

What have we got?

Elevated pulse and BP. Shakes and sweats. He's from juvenile court.

He can wait five minutes.

-Sign here and he's yours.

-Where are the police?

He's just a juvenile.

Goddamn it! Look at this, man! My guitar. I can't believe it, man.

-It's just a guitar.

-It's an original guitar.

All right. These people over here need help. I need a new guitar.

Who'll pay for this?

Mark?

Paging Mr Sway!

It's nothing personal. I don't want to hurt you.

I just wanna talk. Want a smoke?

Let's have a smoke together.

Mark?

OK, you little punk. Game's over.

Oooh! Ain't this a nice spot to die?!

Well, well. I wonder if we're gonna find a live body in here.

Come on over here.

Hey!

Open this door, you little punk!

PHONE RINGS

-McThune. What?

-'Chief, this is Jerry.'

-'Mark Sway has escaped.'

-Pardon me?

Hi. Thought you boys could use some coffee.

-Thanks, Mrs Love.

-You're welcome.

Is this really the best time to defrost the freezer?

Shut up!

-If you need anything, just holler.

-Why are you being nice to them?

They're just being protective.

They are here hoping an 11-year-old boy comes by so they can pounce.

-I feel like a prisoner.

-Shit!

-Will you be calm!

-You've been on edge since they came.

It isn't every day the cops stake out your house.

All right. Let's just relax.

Let's try to sit down and relax.

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

Reggie, it's me. I busted out of jail. Come and get me.

Jeanette! (It's Jeanette)

Oh!

It's Jeanette.

What are you doing, calling so late?

(Who's Jeanette?)

I'm at St Peter's, hiding out.

What?!

I ran in one place for an hour

and faked an attack of post-traumatic stress disorder!

-Are you OK?

-'No!'

I locked a guy in the morgue. He was trying to kill me.

-<

-There's something down here!

Go find yourself a policeman!

-<

-Someone's locked up in the cooler!

I'm not going back to jail.

If you don't come and get me, I'll go where I'm going on my own.

No!

You have to come. You're my only friend. Don't let me down.

Shit! Um...

I'll meet you by the front parking lot in a dark grey Honda.

OK. Right in front of the cross. The big one.

Thank you, Reggie. Thanks.

-My grey Honda?

-Just give me the keys.

You can't abscond with an escaped...

-You'll be disbarred.

-It'll be fine.

-You're mad.

Momma, will you distract the police with coffee or something?

-Don't ask questions. Got any cash?

-Oh, Reg. This is my rent money.

-Live with Momma. She likes you best.

-That wouldn't be hard.

SHOUTING AND CONFUSION

-Down! Your mom must be so worried.

-I called her and said we'd fix it.

-We?

-You're an accomplice now, right?

Shit!

We're watching the mother's room. We bugged her phone.

-Anyone talk to her?

-You said you wanted to first.

-I do.

-Your boy's missing.

-You mean you lost him?

Has he tried to contact you?

No. You searched the hospital?

-He knows it real well.

-Yes, we have.

Reggie Love is missing, too. Could Mark be with her?

Hell, since the FBI got involved,

my trailer's been burned, my boy's been sent to jail. Now he's missing.

Act like the FBI. You find him.

-Head for the bridge.

-Why?

I been thinking.

That witness protection thing sounds pretty good.

If the body ain't there, do we still get protection?

We make our deal before we say where it is, and hope it's there.

-We must make sure it's there, right?

-What are you getting at?

We gotta go to New Orleans, see if Boyette's body is where Romey said.

You are out of your mind! No way. Absolutely not.

BRAKES SCREECH

Where are you going? Stay!

Get back in the car! Mark!

Where are you going? Mark!

-Someone'll see you.

-I'll hitch-hike!

You'll get killed.

Lots of people may get killed if I don't go. I'll do it alone.

Mark, please! Please!

Remember at Momma Love's? What you said about asking people for help?

-Yeah?

-I guess now I'm asking you.

Please?

-Where are you going?

-To look for a New Orleans map.

What do you think I'm doing(?)

The kid broke jail. The lawyer's missing.

Gronke spent all night in a freezer.

No-one has been killed and the body has not been moved.

Can you explain, Barry "The Blade"?

I hid the body under a boat in Romey's boathouse.

What?!

To show Romey he was close to death. As a joke.

Very funny(!)

After Romey died, there were cops everywhere. But I can get it now.

You've been very stupid.

I won't let you take this family down. Understand?

I'm begging you, Uncle Johnny. Just let me get the body.

Help me now. I won't make another mistake.

Take Gronke and Bono. I'm giving you one chance to clear this up.