Dead Bang Page #2

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This is just a little favor.

With you,

I can walk right in to Mom's place...

...and if he's there, he's mine.

Like it or not, that's the way it is.

You are a real a**hole.

You know, in case you haven't noticed,

it's daylight.

What the f*** do you want, a**hole?

- Sheriff's Homicide.

- Go f*** yourself.

You son of a bit...

- Do you wanna give me a hand here?

- Oh, yeah.

- Is that all right?

- Yes. That's just lovely. Thank you.

This is an exciting line of duty.

Sheriff's Homicide.

Now, you a**holes calm down

and cooperate...

...or I'll rip your heads off

and tear this place apart.

Go back to sleep there, Sluggo.

It's Christmas morning.

What's going on?

- All right.

- I can't believe this.

Now, I'm looking for Bobby Burns.

- Who?

- Don't lie to me, a**hole.

- Robert "Bobby" Burns.

- Still in the joint.

You must be John, aren't you?

His brother.

Where is he?

You wouldn't tell me if you knew,

would you?

Well, no. Not really, officer.

Are you okay?

You don't look very good.

Nothing a month in Hawaii

wouldn't cure.

Have you seen him?

Look, he's my brother.

I don't know what you think he's done...

...but he's got his own life.

His job is to do what he wants to do...

...and your job is to find him,

if you think you need to.

Other than that,

I really can't tell you very much.

I go back to school in two days.

I'm here on Christmas break.

Is your mom in there?

She awake?

Merry Christmas, huh?

Yeah.

Hey, where are you...?

Where are you going? Hey.

Sh*t.

F***.

Well, well, what have we here, guys?

A little domestic spat

on our good Lord's birthday?

- Sheriff's Homicide.

- You gotta be kidding.

Oh, God.

Do me a favor, cuff this a**hole.

- What are you doing?

- Who are you?

Elliot Webly, parole officer.

What have you done now?

I got sick, Webly.

What the hell does it look like?

I don't mind helping,

but you threw up all over this guy.

Jesus. Son of a b*tch.

You f***ing threw up on me, man.

Jesus, shut him the f*** up.

My head's killing me.

- Shut him up.

- What do you got on him?

I don't know.

Put him through the machine.

Come on. Jesus Christ.

Oh, man, you're a real a**hole.

You know that?

- I got him, didn't I?

- It's all over me.

Come on. Let me up.

Why don't you just sh*t on me,

while you're at it?

Think this will wash out of my tie?

70 at Roscoe and Laurel Terrace.

Check. Ellis, James. Male Caucasian.

Date of birth:
2- 12-59.

No wants or warrants.

Currently on parole for armed robbery.

All right. I'll take it from here.

- Have a nice day.

- Sorry, I have other plans.

Honey, I'm telling you the truth.

I think the man

is actually physically dangerous.

Wait, wait a minute,

he's doing something.

Me? I'm at a Chinese restaurant.

Honey, sweetie, I don't think

the Chinese celebrate Christmas.

How long is your tail, parolee?

I got three more years,

if you violate me.

Sh*t. You're bought and paid for.

When Bobby got out of the joint,

he called me.

We hung out together. No big deal.

How long ago was that?

I don't know. A month ago.

He was waiting for some guys

to show up.

He was doing a hell of a lot

more than that.

He was capering, wasn't he?

You know,

I don't have to tell you sh*t.

Not without a P.O. I don't.

I got a P.O.

He's on the phone lying to his wife.

Now keep talking.

When did these guys show up?

- Two days ago.

- Who were they?

I don't know,

I never seen them before.

Damn you, you better come up

with something better.

- That's all I know, I swear to God.

- What is going on here?

I'll be finished in a minute.

Keep an eye out for the cops.

I will not.

I will not be a party to this, Beck.

I will not allow this to happen

under my aegis.

- Under your what?

- My aegis.

My auspice. I'm responsible here.

You hear that?

He's responsible here, but I'm not.

Now, goddamn it,

I need some answers.

I got a splitting headache,

I'm seeing double.

Sh*t, I think I'm gonna throw up.

He took off in a wagon. A brow...

Maroon. Maroon Ford wagon.

He said something about going north

to Bakersfield. But that's all.

He didn't say any more and I didn't ask.

That's it.

- Are you sure?

- Yeah. Don't puke. Don't puke.

Good.

What's gonna happen now?

You wanna book this guy

for parole violation?

I certainly do not.

It's your lucky day.

- How's the little woman?

- Wonderful.

Good. Uncuff him, will you?

Yeah. This is Jerry Beck.

Beck, this is John.

Yeah. I've got a positive ID

on your suspect.

What?

The stop-and-rob manager

made him for sure.

It's Burns, all right.

He's got that tattoo

on that right arm of his.

The circle, the cross,

the lightning bolt.

It's Burns, for sure.

Hi. It's me.

Merry Christmas.

How are the kids?

Good.

Are you okay?

Well, it hasn't exactly

been a joyous holiday season...

...for me either.

I didn't mean anything by that.

I just meant I know how you feel,

that's all.

By the way, you didn't have

to get a restraining order...

...to keep me

from stopping by the school.

All you had to do was ask.

It's not like I've been hanging out

in a overcoat...

...with sunglasses, you know.

Fine. Are the kids there?

Because I'm their father.

I'd like to talk to them.

I'd like to wish them merry Christmas.

Goddamn it, do we have to do this

over every goddamn little thing?

I'm their father.

I wanna talk to them

and I'd like to stop by later...

...and give them their... Their presents.

Is that all right?

I am their goddamned father, Gloria.

How can they be in bed?

They're not in bed.

I can hear them

in the f***ing background.

Gloria.

Gloria, Gloria, don't hang up.

Gloria?

Goddamn! Jesus!

Damn son of a b*tch.

Got a minute?

- You startled me.

- That makes two of us.

What happened to you?

How'd you find out?

- I'm a cop, remember?

- I'm sorry.

You're sorry?

It's not what you think.

- How do you know what I'm thinking?

- It's all over your face.

You wanna come inside?

I can make coffee.

- That's bullshit.

- Don't be rude.

I'm sorry. I don't know...

I didn't come here for an apology.

Nothing that complicated.

I just wanna know why.

I wanted to tell you. I intended to.

The next thing I knew,

we were in bed.

- Bullshit. It didn't happen that fast.

- Well, for me it did.

- Bullshit. Bullshit.

- You keep saying that.

That's because you keep lying.

- He was your husband.

- Who are you to judge me?

I don't know.

Who do you have to be?

- Hi, Linda.

- Hi, Nancy. Hi, Alma.

- Merry Christmas.

- Merry Christmas.

Yes, he was my husband. Was.

We'd been separated

for eight months.

God, why am I explaining myself

to you? I don't have to.

Well, it'd be damned nice

if somebody did.

Look.

What exactly do you wanna know?

I'd like to know why you jumped in

and out of bed with me?

If you wanted something,

why didn't you ask?

- It would've saved us time and energy.

- I didn't plan it.

I didn't expect it.

It was Christmas Eve and I was alone.

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