Crash Page #6

Somebody! Anybody else!

- Please, somebody! Not you!

- Stop moving!

No! Get your filthy

f***ing hands off me!

Stop moving. Lady, I'm not

gonna f***ing hurt you!

Okay. Okay.

Please don't touch me. Don't, don't.

I'm not gonna touch you.

But there's nobody else here yet

and that's gasoline there.

We need to get you

outta here right away. Okay?

Oh, my-- Oh, my--

Oh, my-- Oh, my God.

Okay. I need to reach across your lap.

Can I do that, please?

Yeah. Yeah.

Thanks.

Is anything broken?

I-I don't think so.

Okay. Then that's good.

Are you-- Are you

gonna get me out?

Yeah, I'm gonna get you out. Okay?

Look at me. Look at me.

I'm gonna get you out.

Oh, f***!

- I'm sorry.

- That's okay.

I'm gonna have to cut your belt, okay?

I'm gonna have to cut the belt.

It's okay, it's okay.

It's okay.

Okay, we're gonna get you out.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Look at me!

Everything's gonna be fine.

We're gonna get you outta here.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Ryan!

Pull!

It's okay.

It's okay.

All right.

It's okay, it's okay.

It's all right.

I got it. I got it.

Ma'am? Ma'am,

can you walk with me?

It's cool, it's cool.

Here we go.

All right, you're doin' great.

The D.A. wanted me to apologize.

He really wanted to be here himself.

No, he didn't! If he did his own dirty work

none of us would have jobs.

- Jake Flanagan. I work with Rick.

- Graham Waters.

- Thanks for coming in.

- He just pulled into the garage.

Great. Press conference is in ten minutes,

so we'll make this short.

Internal Affairs says this Conklin

has two suspicious shootings on his record.

Both black men.

Both times he was cleared, but only just.

Detective Lewis

makes black man number three.

You know any reason why

we shouldn't hang Conklin for this?

Well, it's more complicated

than we originally thought.

We found $300,000 in the trunk of the car

that Detective Lewis was driving.

Sh*t!

Ah. Go down to the garage. Tell him

to stay in the car until he hears from me.

You found the money in the Mercedes.

I thought that wasn't his car.

The car's registered to a Cindy Bradley.

We haven't been able to get in touch with her.

Apparently she, uh,

left town this morning.

So it wasn't Lewis's car. He may not have

known the money was in it.

You really think you're gonna

be able to make that fly?

Give us a minute.

No problem.

Who knows about the money?

You gotta be kiddin' me.

There are only two people

in this room.

Myself, my partner,

Ferguson and lnternal Affairs.

- Jim Ferguson?

- Yeah.

Okay. I guess

I don't see a problem.

As it wasn't Lewis's car, the money isn't

clear evidence of any wrongdoing.

And even if it was, we aren't

going to prosecute a dead man.

Which means the money lnternal Affairs

is holding can't be considered evidence.

You can do this dance if you want to,

but I'm willing to bet when the coroner's report

comes back tomorrow

it's going to say that Detective Lewis

was coked out of his head.

F***ing black people, huh?

What did you just say?

I mean,

I know all the sociological

reasons why per capita

eight times more black men

are incarcerated than white men.

Schools are a disgrace. Lack of opportunity.

Bias in the judicial system.

All that stuff.

All that stuff!

But still, it's gotta get to you,

on a gut level as a black man,

they just can't keep their hands

out of the cookie jar.

Of course, you and l

know that's not the truth.

But that's the way

it always plays, doesn't it?

And a**holes like Lewis keep

feeding the flames. It's gotta get to you.

What did you say

you did for the D.A. again?

You coach ball down in Compton.

Am I right?

Oh, please, don't do that.

Don't act like you know

something about me, okay?

What do you think those kids need...

to make them believe, to give them hope?

You think they need another

drug-dealing cop

or do you think they need

a fallen black hero?

Why don't you cut through the bullshit

and just tell me what it is you want.

The D.A.'s squad loses

its lead investigator next month.

Rick is quite adamant

that his replacement be a person of color.

It's a high-profile position, and he wants

to send the right message to the community.

And the right message is,

"Look at this black boy I just bought??"'

Well, f*** you very much.

But thanks for thinking of me.

Actually we were thinking of you.

Until we saw that.

It's your brother's file.

Twenty-something years old

and already three felonies.

Three strikes law. Kid's going away

for life for stealing a car.

Christ, that's a shitty law.

There's a warrant in there.

But still, hey, he had

every opportunity you had.

F***ing black people, huh?

So all, uh-- all I need to do

to make this disappear

is to frame

a potentially innocent man?

What are you? The f***ing defender

of all things white?

We're talking about a white man

who shot three black men.

And you're arguing with me that maybe

we're not being fair to him?

You know what? Maybe you're right.

Maybe Lewis did provoke this.

And maybe he got exactly

what was coming to him.

Or maybe stoned or not,

just being a black man in the Valley

was enough to get him killed.

There was no one there to see who shot first,

so there is no way to know.

Which means we

could get this wrong.

Maybe that's what happened with

your brother. Maybe we got it wrong.

Maybe Lewis isn't the only one

who deserves the benefit of the doubt.

You're the one closest to all this.

You need to tell us.

What does your gut tell you?

So? Graham?

What do I tell 'em?

You tell me, and I'll tell them.

Well, I think given

Detective Conklin's history,

it's pretty clear

what happened last night.

Okay.

Before I get to Why We're here,

I know that many of you have heard

we had our car stolen last night.

And as you could imagine, my wife and l

are both pretty shaken up.

But we're okay.

And Jean and I truly appreciate all your calls

and your concern. Thank you.

Now, just after 9::00 p. m. Iast night,

Detective William Lewis,

an eight-year veteran of the force

and an active member of the black community,

was gunned down

by a fellow officer.

Get outta the car!

Gimme the keys!

Get out-- What the f***?

Whoa! What the f***

are you doing, man?

Sh*t! You wanna get killed, n*gger?

Say that again!

- Say that again!

- You stupid motherf***er!

Say it again, huh!

Call me a n*gger again!

- Man, what the f***? Get off!

- F*** you!

- Shoot him!

- I'll blow your head off!

- Shoot this motherf***er!

- I swear to God, I'm gonna blow your head off!

Stop talkin' and shoot!

- Stop! Let's go! Here comes the po-po.

- Get off of me!

Hey, hey! Where you goin', man? Hell, no!

- Oh, sh*t.

- Anthony! Anthony!

Get the f*** outta my car!

Sh*t! Damn!

- What are you doin', man? Get outta the car!

- F*** you!

Car 25 in pursuit of a black Navigator.

West bound.

I will blow you away!

Get the f*** out of the car!

Go on! Shoot me then!

2-2 lda Tom Adam 3--

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