Cop Page #2

eventually does herself in is a little girl.

Every neurotic who lies on a couch...

and pays some a**hole shrink good money

to listen to her bullshit is a little girl.

Every hooker out hustling her ass

for a pimp...

who winds up with a dyke, a habit, or

wasted by some psychopath, is a little girl.

All these little girls

have one thing in common.

You know what that is? Disillusionment.

It always comes from the same thing,

expectations.

The greatest woman-killer of all time.

A terminal disease that starts way back

when they're all just little girls.

When they're being fed all the bullshit...

about being entitled to happiness

like it's a birthright.

That's what you don't understand...

when to stop perpetrating the myths

that ruin their lives.

Innocence kills, Jen. Believe me. It kills.

I see it every f***ing day of my life.

Lloyd, I think you're a very sick man...

- Jesus.

... in need of some real help.

Christ, is that the best

you can come up with?

Can't you see that she's got to know

before it's too late?

Know what, Lloyd?

What does she have to know?

What chance has she got?

Her mother still believes in white knights

and happy endings.

I think I'm going to go check on Penny.

Then I think I'd like to sleep alone.

What else is new?

Hello?

Yeah.

Yeah, go.

That's great. No, you get some sleep.

I'll take it from here.

Gibbs? Good work, kid.

Dutch? What're you doing?

Come on, man, you can sleep anytime.

How would you like to take a couple of

armed robbers?

Yeah, by ourselves. What's the problem?

We've done it 100 times.

A stakeout. The guy's pad.

I got the address.

I'll pick you up in half an hour.

Great.

Okay. Bye.

No car, no Wilson.

I got a peek in the back.

Looks like the f***ing House of Stereo in

there. It's like an electronics emporium.

- You look happy, kid.

- You're goddamn right. You?

If you are.

It's like old times. Same old thermos.

Same bad coffee.

How are things at home, Lloyd?

I tell you I'm happy,

and then you bring that up. Why?

Jen?

Why can't they fly, Dutch?

- Why can't they f***ing fly like us?

- No wings, kid. It's the way they're made.

Nothing they do on their own

is much fun for them.

Without a guy, it's all a waste of time.

And if you don't mind a little advice from

your Dutch uncle, don't try to change it.

That's f***ing pathetic.

There's no way Penny's gonna be like that.

She's gonna fly, Dutch. The wings are there

and they're real big ones.

You better hope the tits are there

and they're real big ones.

In this world, she'll get a lot

further with a pair of those.

Jesus, you're as bad...

It's him. It's a Camaro. It's gotta be him.

- Two in the front?

- I don't know.

No, there's two, and they're not getting out.

Come on, let's take them.

- Want to be the drunk?

- I'll be the drunk.

Okay, I'll get you home tonight.

You doing all right?

Yeah.

Gotta lay off those Singapore Slings.

That's your problem.

Hope my wife isn't mad at me.

I'll tell your wife you were out bowling,

all right?

Just tell her we were bowling.

- Let me take the driver.

- You got it.

- Set?

- Now.

Police! Don't move or you're dead.

Put your hands on the dashboard.

You, too, sweetheart.

Get them on the dashboard.

What the hell's going on?

Are you guys crazy?

Where's your Mexican accent, pal?

You only use it in bars?

I'm gonna open this door real slow...

and you're gonna get out real slow.

You got that?

- I got it, cop.

- Okay, move.

- Hey! What the hell's going on out there?

- Jesus Christ.

Dutch, you all right?

Get this piece of sh*t off you.

Take it easy. You've been hit? Were you hit?

Damn it. How did this happen?

You all right?

I must be getting old. Fell for that one.

Knocked the wind right out of me.

- You okay, then?

- Yeah.

Stay right here.

You can get out now.

It's okay. It's all over.

Is what's- his-name dead?

What's- his-name?

You don't know his name?

I just met him tonight,

I'm a little bad with names.

Well, I'm pretty good with them.

What's yours?

Sarah Smith.

Sarah, the bad news is what's- his-name

over there is expired.

The good news is...

if you go in that Ford and wait just a

few minutes, I could drive you home.

You mean, and I won't be involved

with any of this?

Like it never happened. Okay?

- Okay.

- Okay.

This will help at the shooting board.

Dutch, you tired?

I'm okay. Why?

I thought maybe you could stick around

and handle the details.

I'll call for the ambulance

and backup units...

in case some of the neighbors

get freaked out.

You see what I mean about big tits?

Come on, Dutch.

You blow away a broad's date...

the least you can do is

drive her home, right?

Thanks.

I remember her.

She's the one who was in here.

I don't think there's any doubt about it.

She came in about a week ago...

- and took out this ad.

- You're absolutely sure?

I'm as sure as one can be.

These are pretty small pictures.

But I remember she came in

with a pretty blonde.

Did you get her name?

No, she just waited over there.

About 35, kind of tall...

real good-looking.

Thank you.

Excuse me, Miss. Police officer.

Christ. Vice?

No, Homicide. It's about Julia Niemeyer.

That's a relief. Actually, I was thinking

about calling you guys.

Why didn't you?

You know, I just didn't know what to say.

- Why? Did you kill her?

- Of course not.

But I make it a policy not to talk to police.

They ask too many questions.

Well, we're gonna have to break policy

this time.

- What's your name?

- Joanie Pratt, age 35...

former actress, model, singer, dancer,

and what usually follows.

What do you do now?

- What usually follows.

- Which is?

- Isn't there someplace else we could talk?

- What's wrong with here?

I'm trying to spare you the police station.

So, please tell me, what do you do now?

It's illegal.

Lady, if it has nothing

to do with this murder, I couldn't care less.

I deal Quaaludes and I f*** selected

older men who don't want to get involved.

I think you're right. Maybe we should go

someplace else and talk.

I thought the papers said

she was found dead, presumably...

strangled by a burglar who panicked.

No, it was a story we gave out to the media

to keep them disinterested. So far, so good.

What I need from you

is to tell me all you can about Julia...

including what these sex ads were about.

Look, there was nothing wrong or illegal

in anything that we...

I don't give a sh*t if the two of you were

f***ing each other in a bathtub of cocaine.

All I care about is stopping this maniac

before he kills again.

Do you understand?

- Yeah.

- So?

Well, we first met, of all places,

in the public library.

I was returning some books,

and she was taking out a whole stack, and...

I noticed they were all about sex...

so I made a friendly comment

and we got to talking and...

she told me she was doing research

for a book that she was writing.

I told her, being the voice of experience,

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