Color Of Night Page #3

it's somebody in the group?

Only about a dozen things. It's been

going on for a couple of months now.

It's funny how it

gets to you after a while.

- You call the cops?

- Yeah.

They said if they had to protect every

shrink in L.A., they'd need an army.

But that I should call 'em

if, uh, anything happens.

[Chuckling]

Yeah. That makes sense.

Yeah. It'll probably

all just blow over.

- Yeah.

- How 'bout you?

How 'bout me what?

What do you give a suicidal patient

who's got everything?

- A parachute. I heard it already.

- Out here already, huh?

Come on, old-timer.

Oh... sh*t.

- [Laughing]

- You may have to...

You may have to carry me in.

You know, you lose

a lot more gracefully than you used to.

Yeah, well, you know,

practice and all.

Hey, how 'bout that?

Learning To Lose, by Dr. Bill Capa.

- [Beeping]

- Got a ring to it.

They're makin' them seats

a little smaller, huh? Whoo!

I'll see you

next week, all right?

I'm goin' now.

You want me to lock up on the way out?

That'd be great, Barbara.

[Classical]

[Click]

[Whispering]

Just relax.

Barbara?

[Click]

[Laughter]

No!

No-o-o-o!

[Groaning]

Why?

[Groaning]

- [Woman Officer]

Have you thought about...

- Man, I didn't do nothing.

- Oh, please? You know, you're very cute.

- Yeah, I love you too.

Relax.

- You Capa?

- Yes, I'm Bill Capa.

You're here because

of the dead doctor?

Yes.

Um, I read something

about sessions on Mondays?

Tell me about

this Monday group.

There's five patients

in the group.

- I can't really remember

their names right now.

- Like five cuckoos?

No. Four neurotics

of varying degrees...

and one killer.

At least that's

what Bob thought.

- Bob Moore?

- Good. Yes, Bob Moore.

- Uh, four men and one woman.

- Right.

And you sat in on

one of these sessions, right?

Yes, I did.

- So who did it? Hey, hey, hey!

- [Door Opening]

Anderson!

This is civilization, man!

What do you think this is,

your bedroom? Damn!

Knock! Knock! Don't come

into my office like that, bro. Hey!

Whew.

[Chuckles]

It's a Third World thing.

- Where were we?

- You were probing me about the patients.

I was about to tell you that

I really can't help you.

I don't know these people.

But you're a professional, like me.

You gotta have some kind of suspicion.

I really don't have a clue.

I'd like to help you.

Even if I could, there's

an issue of confidentiality.

- Confidentiality?

- Yes.

[Laughing]

You're talkin' to me

about an issue of confidentiality?

Similar to

the Miranda oath.

If a friend of mine got killed...

and the only thing between

the killer and me was Miranda...

you know what I would do?

I'd f*** Miranda

up the ass, okay?

But don't tell anybody, because

it's a matter of confidentiality. Shh.

[Sighs]

Look, I'm sorry.

I can't help ya. I've only been

in Los Angeles four days.

You're sleeping in that...

dead guy's house, aren't you?

- Yes.

- Maybe something will

come to you in the night.

You know, like dreams and sh*t.

What happens to patients

in a situation like this?

Usually a colleague will offer to take

over the group, continue the treatment.

How sweet.

How sweet.

It's like one of

the vultures dies...

and then the others step in line

and eat his portion?

Is that what you're planning?

- No.

- Why not?

- 'Cause I really can't

handle that right now.

- Sure you can!

Come on. You've been a week

in L.A. You already have

your own private squirrel farm.

How bad can that be?

That's a great career move.

Where were you at the time

of the killing, Capa?

I was at his house...

at Bob's house.

You had to think

about that?

Jesus Christ. You gonna arrest me,

Lieutenant Martinez?

- You want a lawyer?

- Do I need a lawyer?

You're in L.A.

Everybody needs a lawyer.

Ay.

You can go home now. Take a shower.

And keep your mouth shut.

The only thing I got goin' for me

is that few people know what happened.

I don't want the press

f***ing things up.

- [Buzzing]

- All right, all right. Hold on.

[Buzzing]

Oh, sh*t.

[Beeping]

- Capa? Capa, are you there?

- Yeah.

- How's it going?

- What do you want?

I brought the victim's car back,

and I gotta search the house.

You got

a search warrant?

What is it with you? Don't you want

me to find out who killed your friend?

- No, I don't have a warrant.

- All right, come on in.

- Open the gate.

- Yeah, right.

- How's that?

- [Water Spraying]

You got the sprinklers on.

How 'bout that?

Jill. His wife.

- His ex-wife.

- Nice bush.

I'll tell her

you said so.

I'm sure it'll mean

a lot to her.

Check this f***ing bed.

Damn.

Everybody's having fun

but me, goddamn it.

- I do not like guns.

- You prefer knives?

- I need you to do me a favor.

- What's that?

- I want you to tell the group

about Moore's death.

- Me?

- Yes.

- Why?

Well, maybe one of them

won't come in.

Or maybe they would all come in,

but then you would be able

to spot something wrong.

- I can't handle it right now.

- I just had all the mess

in his office cleaned up.

Don't you want to help me

find the killer? Have a heart.

- What does that mean?

- If you don't tell 'em,

I'll have to tell 'em.

Am I the person to break

the news to these people?

"Listen up, you f***in' daffodils.

Your shrink is dead.

Which means that all the time,

effort and love you put in

this relationship is wasted.

You're gonna remain as f***ed up

as you are, or get worse."

You are one sinister

piece of work.

All right.

I'll do it.

It's better if you do it.

No, you listen to me.

You don't understand, Gene.

Don't lie. Just give

the family what it wants.

No. No, you don't understand.

- [Brakes Squealing, Glass Shattering]

- What...?

I have to call ya back.

Christ.

Hey, you all right?

Hey.

Why me?

Hi. I'm Rose.

Hi, Rose. Nice of you

to run into me like this.

I'm Bill Capa.

I got no insurance.

I know it's against the law

and everything.

[Sighs]

Don't bust my chops.

I'll bring the money to you, if you

could just get an estimate, okay?

- Why don't you give me a break, huh?

- Got a pen?

Yeah.

- Here.

- Thanks.

Oh. Poor old brain

can't remember its own phone number?

I just moved here.

- Oh.

- From New York.

I wrote my address down

'cause I'm not sure about this number.

I don't know how long

I'm gonna be there...

so maybe you can call me sometime

over the next couple of days.

- I will.

- Bye.

Hey, uh, don't you

want my address?

You could lie.

Hi.

- Who hasn't arrived yet?

- Sondra.

- Where's Bob?

- [Richie] W-What's wrong?

If it's all right,

I'd rather wait till we're all here.

- She always this late?

- Depends on who is banging her.

[Gasping, Giggling]

I'm sorry.

Class was really,

really, really late.

What class is that? Advanced

cunnilingus for the single woman...

or C.P.R. For

pleasure and gain?

- [Buck] Oh, Christ. Don't excite her.

- [Sondra] Where's Dr. Moore?

- There's something

that I want to tell you.

- [Casey] What?

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