Dirty Harry 5: The Dead Pool Page #5

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- Let me know the results.

- You got it.

What's that?

I don't know.

It looks like the wheel from a toy.

Have you been questioned about

Nolan IKKennard?

Is his death connected

to the Dead Pool?

- I don't know.

- Is his death due to your list?

- I don't know.

- In Hell Without the Devil...

...a character's poisoned.

Night of the Slasher

has several stabbings.

- We can guess what Hotel Satan...

- Get to the point.

Are there parallels between the deaths

in your film...

...and the death of Johnny Squares?

That's a stupid question!

Do you feel any responsibility?

You people are

blowing this out of proportion.

You want to speak to somebody?

Speak to the police.

Talk to Inspector Callahan.

He'll tell you I'm not a suspect.

I have nothing

to do with these deaths.

That's all I have to say, now sod off.

Callahan!

You.

Harry.

I think that's about it for me.

What's that tattoo?

Oh, that.

One of my grandfather's superstitions.

You see, he painted these words

on my back and chest.

It's supposed to ward off

anything that's harmful or evil.

When he heard I was your partner,

he figured I could use the help.

I was just trying

to honor the old guy.

Besides, I didn't think it could hurt.

Listen, I think I'm gonna go home.

I'll catch you later for a beer.

- See him?

- I saw him.

He can't be over there.

How y'all doing?

You're the last a**hole Janero sends.

Wait, you got it wrong!

Don't f*** with me, buddy.

I'll kick your ass right now.

It's not what you think.

Janero did hire us.

But this ain't a hit.

Janero doesn't want

anything to happen to you.

We're your...

...bodyguards.

Those letters

all came from your files.

Harlan Rook. God.

Yes, I remember him.

Every time I was at a film festival

or a seminar, he was there.

Mr. IKKnow-It-AII, I called him.

He knew everything about my films.

To tell the truth,

I found it a little unnerving.

What'd he want?

He had this screenplay...

...for a horror film

he wanted me to direct.

He said it'd be

the ultimate Peter Swan film.

He was crazy.

I couldn't get rid of him.

Finally, my attorney

put a restraining order on him.

Then what happened?

I didn't see or hear from him again.

That must have been over a year ago.

Is he the one?

The typewriter

used on these letters...

...is the same one used

to tip us off to the Dead Pool.

Call Swan's attorney

and see what he knows about Rook.

And run a DMV check.

Right.

It might not be a bad idea to start

playing it a little safe.

Maybe your granddaddy can paint me up.

Look, I'm being serious.

Don't go where you normally go,

not even home. You can stay with me.

Thanks, but I think I can

do a little better.

Price of fame.

Is this what Ackerman meant

by cooperating with the press?

It must have been one of those

in-depth interviews.

I got a lead on Rook.

A psychiatrist who treated him.

Good.

- Give it a try.

- Okay.

It won't respond.

Someone's on my frequency.

Forget it. It's just not working.

Now what the hell is that?

Time's up, Callahan.

You all right, Al?

Sh*t.

Two fractured ribs.

He bled in the chest.

We drained it and set up an IV.

He's lucky, the bulletproof vest

he had on saved his life.

Another of my

grandfather's superstitions.

When your partner gives you advice...

...take it.

Harry.

This is Dr. Friedman, chief

psychiatrist here at the hospital.

I'm sorry about what happened.

I feel somewhat responsible.

Your partner contacted me about

a former patient of ours.

- Harlan Rook?

- Yes.

At first, I didn't recall the name.

I found the file today.

He was evaluated here a year ago.

The diagnosis was

process schizophrenia.

Multiple personality.

Exactly.

His sense of self-hate

was so strong...

...that he no longer had

any personality of his own.

Consequently,

he substituted identities...

...found in books, films...

...fan magazines.

Identities with which he had

love-hate relationships.

He wasn't dangerous enough to hold?

Most mentally ill people

are not violent, inspector.

By law, a person who poses no danger

can only be held for 72 hours.

I'm sorry, this is one instance

where the system failed.

Is this address recent?

I assume it's still the same.

Samantha Walker.

This is Peter Swan, Ms. Walker.

Your coverage of my predicament

has been thorough...

... but my side hasn't been told

as well as it could be.

I see.

I'm prepared to grant you

an exclusive interview.

Are you interested?

No doubt about it.

He's our boy, Harry.

Explosives. Caps.

Detonator.

It all connects.

Harry, you gotta see this.

Talk about obsession.

Looks like he had a real

Peter Swan shrine going here.

I'm not sure.

I could have sworn I put it in my bag.

But I'm not sure.

- Bob, do you have my little mike?

- It's in your bag.

Thank you.

Look at this.

I'll call the TV station.

Samantha went out to the shipyard

to interview Peter Swan.

Swan doesn't know anything about it.

- What's this?

- A payroll stub.

Sundown Security, made out to

Ed Butler? I don't get it.

That's the company that provides

security for Swan's locations.

Ed Butler may be an alias for Rook.

Where are you going? Harry?

Harry!

That's my car!

Yes.

That's the shot I'm looking for.

What is it you want from me?

You've got it wrong, love.

This is what you wanted.

An exclusive interview.

But you're not Swan.

Shut up! You don't know!

You don't know!

I know who I am.

Do you know who you are?

Do you?!

Yes.

All those films he made.

Those are my nightmares, not his!

Every night I dream,

and somehow he reads my mind.

He stole my thoughts.

He put my thoughts on film,

and he takes all the credit.

He can't get away with it.

He has to pay.

He stole my nightmares

and made them real.

So I stole his Dead Pool.

I'll play his game and make it real.

He can take credit for that.

Drop it, Rook.

You didn't die, Callahan,

so I had to find another celebrity.

You're next.

Shoot me, Callahan.

Maybe you'll get lucky.

Maybe my muscles won't contract

and drive this knife into her throat.

Let her go.

First the gun.

Drop it and kick it over to me.

Time's up. What's it gonna be?

What the f***?

You've locked yourself in, a**hole.

Yeah.

Just you and me, a**hole.

The gun, Callahan.

Now!

No!

He'll kill us both!

Oh, God.

You let me down,

Mr. Famous-F***ing-Cop.

You let Swan get away.

You're the killer, not Swan.

I should have killed you first.

That was my big mistake.

Now kick it over to me.

Harry, don't.

Think you're smart, don't you?

Callahan, you son of a b*tch!

I'm gonna kill you slow!

Do you hear that, Callahan?!

Stay in there.

Callahan!

Come on out, Callahan.

There's nowhere left to run, Callahan.

Don't make me come in and get you.

The game's over!

You're out of bullets.

You know what that means.

You're sh*t out of luck.

- Where's Rook?

- He's hanging out back there.

Inspector, what happened here.

Was this another hit attempt by Janero?

Is it connected to the Dead Pool case?

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