48 Hrs. Page #13

SECURITY OFFICER

Just put it down real slow.

The train doors close.

CATES:

I'm a policeman, you a**hole!

SECURITY OFFICER

Don't even try... now drop it

or - you're all done.

He means it, points the riot gun even closer... The train in

front of him moves away.

Cates carefully places the .38 on the pavement. Then raises

his hands in the air.

CATES:

Sh*t.

TRAIN STATION - LOBBY

Witnesses stand in nervous little knots. Give versions of

what happened to notepad-toting patrolmen. Hospital

Attendants minister to various and sundry complaints.

Cates sits on a passenger bench, obviously dejected. A

voice comes echoing from behind.

HADEN:

Cates.

Haden, silhouetted against the light from the street.

HADEN:

(continuing)

What the bell happened?

CATES:

I lost them, that's what happened.

HADEN:

How did they get away?

CATES:

They ran. As fast as they could.

Caught a train.

Haden watches the Morgue Personnel wheel out the body of the

Patrolman.

HADEN:

Which one pulled the trigger?

CATES:

The Indian. I was about 30 yards

away.

HADEN:

You couldn't get to him?

Cates shrugs.

HADEN:

(continuing)

What a screw-up.

CATES:

Right. I screwed up. I f***ed

up. I messed up. Anybody could

have done better, especially you.

I bet you're real good at hitting

targets through crowds.

Haden starts toward the street. Looks back at Cates.

HADEN:

Don't duck the bullet Cates. Why

didn't you call in for backup

instead of makin' a grandstand

play?

CATES:

I didn't have the time.

HADEN:

Too bad, it would've covered your

ass. Now you're in the sh*t and

so's the department. In case you

haven't noticed, this wasn't our

finest hour... I told you everyone

was watchin' on this one. Maybe

you better start thinkin' about

writin' tickets off a three wheel

bike.

Cates looks at Haden for a moment...

Turns and walks away.

TRANSITION.

PREDMORE HOTEL - NIGHT

Hammond across the street from Predmore.

Standing in a phone booth talking into the receiver...

He turns and looks acain at the hotel...

Hangs up.

Walks into a nearby bar.

TRANSITION.

VROMAN'S ROCK CLUB

HAMMOND:

Punk Dancers all over the floor.

A rock group blasting away...("NEW SHOES" - Vocal)

HAMMOND:

At a back booth...

A MAN (SOSNA) approaches carrying a small suitcase.

HAMMOND:

How you doing, man?

SOSNA:

Not bad, not bad.

Puts the suitcase down on the table.

SOSNA:

(continuing)

You want to go outside?

HAMMOND:

Naw, right here's okay.

Dancers sliding and jerking in front of them.

SOSNA:

You sure?

HAMMOND:

I'm sure. Everybody here's

looking at everybody else's ass.

Sosna pops open the suitcase. Lid shielding the contents from

the patrons...

SOSNA:

I got some real nice merchandise.

All of it's clean.

Suitcase arranged like q salesman's display case. Tightly

spaced rows of handguns mounted in their holsters.

HAMMOND:

I like this one...

Pockets a revolver with a deft move.

HAMMOND:

(continuing)

How about some ammo?

SOSNA:

It's loaded... I got some shells

in here.

Opens another compartment. Hammond helps himself to two

boxes...

HAMMOND:

How much?

SOSNA:

This is clean sh*t. No serial

numbers and never been used...

HAMMOND:

Don't mess with me. How much?

SOSNA:

Five bills.

HAMMOND:

Five. On credit.

SOSNA:

This ain't a credit business.

You know that.

HAMMOND:

Yeah, I know that, but this is me

and we're old friends. I haven't

got the money so what are you

gonna do about it?

SOSNA:

Give it back.

HAMMOND:

Try and take it.

A long moment.

SOSNA:

F*** you. You got no right for

this kind of play.

HAMMOND:

I'll got your money to you. No

sweat.

Hammonds heads for the bar.

Stands next to a good-looking woman (RITA). Nods to the

barkeep.

HAMMOND:

(continuing)

Vodka. With a twist. And I want to

run a tab.

Served up. He knocks half of it back, turns to the woman.

HAMMOND:

(continuing)

My name's Reggie Hammond.

Big personality smile.

RITA:

So what?

She turns away as he takes a drink. He looks at another

pretty girl (ANGELA).

HAMMOND:

Hi there. I'm Reggie Hammond.

ANGELA:

I'm with somebody.

She turns away.

HAMMOND:

This ain't my night.

He drinks up.

TRANSITION.

SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT

Several Detectives are working at desks. Kehoe walks into the

office. He moves slowly to Cates' desk and slumps down in a

nearby chair.

KEHOE:

You look awful.

CATES:

So do you...been a long day.

KEHOE:

Long night, too, from what I heard

... Word's going around that in

addition to losing Ganz for the

second time, and in addition to

Haden busting you back to

Patrolman, some jig beat the crap

out of you.

CATES:

Aw, bullshit, you heard wrong.

KEHOE:

Doesn't look like it.

CATES:

Nothing came in for me yet? No

calls?

KEHOE:

Nothing.

Kehoe's phone begins to ring. Cates watches hopefully.

KEHOE:

(continuing)

Kehoe... Okay, hang on.

Offers the phone to Cates.

KEHOE:

(continuing)

It's for you... Ordinance.

Cates' excitement vanishes. He takes the receiver. Kehoe

begins to clean off his desk.

CATES:

Hello... Yeah, okay. I'll be in

tomorrow. That's right, you can

depend on it. Okay?

He slams down the receiver, leans back in the chair.

CATES:

(continuing)

Bullshit red tape.

KEHOE:

I'm heading out. How about you?

Cates shakes his head.

CATES:

I got to wait for a call.

KEHOE:

Okay. See you in the morning...

you know, you ought to get some

rest...

He walks out the door. Cates stares fixedly at the phone on

the desk. Hoping Hammond will call... Across the room another

phone starts to ring. Cates stares at the PLAINCLOTHESMAN who

answers.

PLAINCLOTHESMAN:

Yeah, he's here.

Cates stiffens.

PLAINCLOTHESMAN:

(continuing)

Cates... line twelve.

Cates snatches up the phone, shouts into it...

CATES:

You motherf***er, where are you?

ELAINE:

In the Chronicle Restaurant and Bar, a well appointed

establishment off Montgomery Street.

ELAINE:

I'm at work, a**hole. Where else?

CATES:

Elaine! I... I'm sorry... I was

expecting somebody else... police

business.

ELAINE:

No wonder you're so popular.

CATES:

No, it's I'm just surprised you

called.

ELAINE:

So am I.

ELAINECATES:

Jack, this afternoon... Hey, look, when...

ELAINE:

You first.

CATES:

Look, I'm sorry about ... the way

things have been lately. I know

I haven't been acting real great...

Behind Cates, Kehoe steps back into the room.

KEHOE:

Hey, Cates...

Cates swings around.

KEHOE:

(continuing)

I almost forgot. That pal of

yours from the Vice Squad wants

you to call him.

CATES:

What?

ELAINE:

Jack, are you still there?

KEHOE:

Yeah. He said he rousted a bar

with you last night.

CATES:

Jesus Christ. Why the hell didn't

you tell me before?

KEHOE:

I'm not paid to take your personal

calls. He was in some bar. .. off

duty.

Cates interrupts.

CATES:

The number ... what's the Goddamn

number?

ELAINE:

Jack? What was that?

KEHOE:

Find it yourself. It's on my desk.

Cates speaks back into the receiver.

CATES:

Elaine, I gotta put you on hold...

ELAINE:

Jack, wait...

CATES:

Just a second, that's all!

He hits the bold button, starts rummaging through the desk.

Paperwork scatters in all directions.

Kehoe watches him in silence for awhile then leaves. Cates

begins to dial.

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