Dolores Claiborne

No, Dolores!

Leave me be!

Let go of me!

Let go of me, Dolores!

Let me go!

Please, Dolores.

Got a certified letter here.

Never believe what happened

down at the dock.

Dolores Claiborne, what the hell are you...

Oh, my God.

What have you done?

Put it down. Do you hear me?

Just put it down.

Jesus, Dolores.

Oh, God.

Oh, my God.

You killed her.

-So you lose the picture.

-Not happening.

It's half a page.

I'll let you write the caption.

-Come on, Peter. It's crucial.

-It's salad.

I'm setting up the whole campaign.

It's a better piece without it.

You already said it was brilliant.

I said it was wonderful.

-There's a difference?

-Yeah.

Half a page.

Fine.

I only left it in so you'd cut it out anyway.

I'm ready for Arizona.

You should see what I have

for the malpractice piece.

-The surgeon's ex-wife...

-Wait a minute.

Had her on the phone

for 20 minutes last night.

-I haven't assigned you that story.

-You will.

Slow down.

Come on, Peter. There's a book here.

I deserve this.

Why does every story have to be do or die

with you?

You're not the only writer here, okay?

I've got a dozen people out there

to keep happy. You know that.

Great.

So now you're not only not f***ing me

anymore, you're f***ing me.

What is it, Helen?

There's a fax here for Selena.

From Phoenix?

No, it's a clipping

from the Bangor Daily News.

'"Socialite Dead,

Housekeeper Held for Questioning.

-'"Mrs. Dolores St. George of...'"

-Where's the cover sheet?

Fax?

Forget it.

They're hardly out of the 19th century

up here.

Are you kidding?

No, there's no motel. One restaurant.

They've got me sleeping

on a cot in the town hall.

Tell him to relax. This is no vacation.

I'll be back on the mainland

as soon as I wrap this up.

-Can I help you?

-Yes. I'm looking for Dolores Claiborne.

And you are?

I'm her daughter.

I'm John Mackey.

-Detective, Maine State Police.

-Hello.

Would you please call

Constable Stamshaw?

-Get him to come right out.

-Yes, sir.

I'm sorry.

No smoking. Public building.

We've met before, Miss St. George.

Have we?

You were about 13.

What year was that, the eclipse?

Must have been, what, '75?

I was the investigator...

...when your father died.

We met at the hearing.

What's up, John?

Miss St. George is here.

Selena?

Oh, my gravy.

Frank Stamshaw.

Marshall's brother.

-Right.

-Jonesport High.

-Of course. How are you?

-It's been quite a while, I guess.

Certainly has.

To be honest,

I'm surprised to see you here.

Your mom's been pretty firm

about us not trying to contact you.

-I didn't know Dolores made any calls.

-She didn't call.

I saw the Bangor paper.

It was faxed to my office.

And where's that?

I came up from New York.

Look, is she here or not?

-Yeah. She's right upstairs.

-Thank you.

But...

John?

Is she under arrest?

Technically, no.

Detective Mackey came last night,

and we're just starting.

On what?

We've scheduled an inquest

for Monday morning.

We'll sort things out over the weekend.

If she's not under arrest

why is she in custody?

Right, okay. Vera Donovan is dead.

There's an autopsy in Machais

this morning.

And, you know...

...she died from a fall.

Your mother was the only person

with Mrs. Donovan at the time.

That was her job, wasn't it?

I'm afraid, Miss St. George...

...there's a little more to this

than what you may have read in the paper.

What are you doing?

Straightening up this friggin' mess,

is what I'm doing.

Gorry, but this place is a dump.

Jesus. You're a suspect, you're not a maid.

Just leave that be.

There's someone to see you here.

I told you, I don't want no lawyer.

It's your daughter.

My God.

Look at you.

You cut your hair.

I didn't...

You call her?

Is that what you did?

-Jeezly crow, you got some nerve.

-She's here on her own.

Look at you.

I'm just...

My God.

Is it really you?

Look.

-Hey, Ms. Claiborne!

-Kill anyone else today?

Not yet. When I change my mind,

I know exactly where I'll start.

-Go home.

-Where's the car?

Right there across the street.

You've been living at the Donovan's.

It's a crime scene now.

I got my own house, and you know it.

We'd like her to stay here for at least

the next four days.

If I decide to make my grand escape

to South America, I'll let you know.

-I'd appreciate it.

-One last thing, Mrs. St. George.

Name is Claiborne!

I changed it when Joe died,

and you know it.

I'm very sorry, Ms. Claiborne.

'Morning, Pam.

I'm sorry, but I think it's for the best

if you got some legal representation.

You're sorry, are you?

Last time you were sorry was

when you had to use the pay toilet...

...and the string on your pet dime broke.

I'm just muzzy here,

trying to think of what to say.

All grown up...

...looking so...

You turned out a beautiful woman, Selena.

I just can't believe you're here.

That makes two of us.

There must be a reason

why you go out of your way...

...to antagonize them like that.

Sometimes being a b*tch

is all a woman has to hold onto.

Nice car.

It's a rental.

You pay by the day or by the week?

I assume that's your way of asking

how long I'm staying.

Good gorry, you're more nervous than me.

I have to be in Phoenix on Monday.

It's a big story. I'm trying to get out of it,

but it may not be possible, all right?

I didn't kill her.

I didn't push her down

that friggin' staircase.

That's what you want to know?

Well, I'm telling you.

I did not murder that b*tch any more

than I'm wearing a diamond tiara.

He's got an eyewitness...

...who puts you standing over a dead body

with a rolling pin.

When did you start smoking?

Are you not listening to me?

They're talking murder here.

You're lucky I didn't have to post bail.

Spooky, ain't it?

Can't stand out here all day.

What a mess.

A regular bunch of artistes.

Look at this mess.

Cheese and crackers.

Friggin' little bastards.

I've got an idea who they are, too.

Let me try.

Selena.

Get in the house.

Selena, I said get in the house, right now.

I am in the house.

It's cold, I know.

God, it's a dust bowl.

Thank God I kept the electric up.

I got some wood.

We'll have hot water pretty quick.

Clean linens upstairs, last I looked.

Longer you stand there,

the more boogery it's gonna feel.

It's dead.

It's off three years, at least.

I'd know that if I called more often, right?

You called Vera's last Christmas.

The lines go both ways, Mother.

Look, this isn't gonna work.

I need a phone.

I'm gonna stay at the motel.

It's closed.

It's off-season.

What about Riner's Inn?

He's gone.

Burned down.

Must be five years ago by now.

Sh*t.

There's phones in town.

-We've gotta go shoppin' anyway.

-I'll go.

Alone.

I'll take care of it.

You don't know what we need.

I'm assuming it's everything.

You know what? I've got a game.

Do you know how to count by fives?

You don't. I can teach you.

I know you are. You're smart.

Let's count by fives. You want to play

hide and seek? Ready?

...25, 30.

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