Jennifer Eight Page #4

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- A Volkswagen van.

You'll be knocking

on doors all over the state.

- Just give me a month.

- No. Finito, maestro. Closed.

And this has nothing to do with him.

It was over anyway.

I'm sorry.

I know this means something to you.

I don't want you at that institute again.

I'm flat out about that.

Here.

Goodridge got it from Amber.

It's a postcard.

Apparently she's alive and well

and living in Oakland.

- She's dead, chief.

- Then that's a very unique souvenir.

Can I buy you a beer, sergeant?

Don't try to ingratiate yourself with me,

Travis. But just this once I'll have a Mic.

How are you doing?

- Three Mics, Susie.

- A couple of shots.

Look at those amazing bosoms.

- Want another beer?

- No. Gotta go. I'm nights.

- Give me a ride?

- Sure.

How's that hand job coming along, John?

We're not talking the "talk" tonight.

No one's gonna make that dude.

Six months investigation and the nearest

we got, we thought he was a sailor.

- A sailor?

- Yeah.

In and out of Frisco on the big boats.

Every lead pointed to the sea.

Night Freddy T, John.

How come he's suddenly so forthcoming?

- I'd kick him in the f***ing ass.

- Stop it.

If he'd told me, I might have got

somewhere. I never heard that theory.

He might have

the one thing I need in his files.

Have a f***ing lemonade.

Let it go.

What are you looking for?

Vehicle references.

Wrong cabinet.

I have a link with a series in San Diego

and half a VW van.

I thought you might have the other piece.

No.

What's happening?

Sergeant Berlin is doing

a little in-house investigation.

- I wish you'd f***ing shout at me.

- You got some kind of obsession?

Do the job you're paid for.

There's work right up the corridor.

If our stuff's too dull,

why don't you go back to L.A.?

I'm gonna be here when Jennifer 8 shows.

In spring she'll come through the snow.

Then I'll find her killer.

Then I'll go back.

When you finish in here,

I've got a report to type up.

Maybe you'll let me know.

You really are the working part

of an a**hole, Berlin.

I didn't intend to come today.

I'm not supposed to be here.

Why?

It's in Braille.

It's from Amber?

It's dated a week ago.

"Dear Mr Goodridge, I'm sorry

I didn't get a chance to say goodbye.

"Just a line to say all is well.

"I'm looking for a job

and an apartment.

"Love to all who love me. Amber."

- I don't think Amber wrote this.

- Why not?

Amber wasn't very good at Braille.

She couldn't have written it.

She couldn't even have read it.

- You see this?

- What?

You out of your mind with this?

If anything happens to her,

I'll break your back.

Easy on your words.

What's going on?

His blind friend got attacked.

Angelo went up there.

- Somehow it got in the paper.

- You put it in.

- I may have said something. I don't recall.

- Don't lie. I just spoke to Blattis.

- You gave him the whole case.

- The case is closed. So what?

You just hung a target

round her neck.

Bullshit, pal.

Don't you know?

He collects newspaper cuttings.

Now he's reading Helena Robertson's

name like she's a witness.

- You couldn't have been more stupid.

- Come on, let's all hear the expert.

Just walk away from me.

Think you're the only guy

who's worked homicide?

I was a big city cop, too.

I busted the clock on "Jennifer".

I know more about this man

than you'll ever know. It ain't him.

- You're investigating a soap opera.

- Come on, stop.

He says bye and she gets attacked.

Give me a break!

There is no serial killer. Put her name

in neon and there still isn't one.

Everybody here is saying it.

I mean everybody.

- Shut up, King Jay.

- Let's have this out.

You know what everyone thinks?

You're making a case

because you found a nice piece of ass.

No one's blaming you.

I hear she's worth the flowers.

But don't come in here

getting holy over us.

Yeah, I put it in the paper.

Because I wanted to stop this bullshit.

- It's pissing everyone off.

- You don't know what you've done.

If your friend from San Diego was here

and thought she was a danger to him,

he would have taken her out weeks ago.

Why don't you get a dictionary

and look up "witness"?

- I know what a witness is.

- Yeah, well, her it ain't.

That b*tch is blind as a blind f***ing...

I'm gonna do something you never did.

I'm gonna catch this bastard.

And when I do, he'll find out

how good a witness she really is.

Meanwhile, you'd better be aware of me

because I wish you ill.

I told you what would happen

and it's happened. "Goodbye, Princess."

And that same night she gets attacked.

That's a tough one to swallow.

I am familiar with Taylor's opinion.

- You don't really believe this?

- 100 f***ing per cent I believe it.

You know why?

Because I never said goodbye. OK?

- Is that good enough for the committee?

- I didn't know that.

No, you didn't know that.

You left your booze in here.

Who do you think it was?

You think it was him?

- That is a very stupid question.

- I'm asking it.

How the hell do I know who.

Some jerk-off. Some peeping tom prick.

Definitely not him.

He's in the trade.

He won't just look at her.

If he's in a room with her, she's dead.

- Ease off.

- I'm sick of this toy town sh*t.

What you're saying is reasonable,

but there's a reasonable explanation

for the opposite.

Don't give me another word of that.

There is a bad man out there.

He may be in the next room or next state.

I don't know what trigger's him,

but if he reads her name in the paper,

I think he'll do something about it.

I got a bad feeling about this. And I've

been doing this too long to be wrong.

I don't want you to worry, OK?

We're going to find this guy,

and everything will be OK.

- OK?

- OK.

You want your music on?

You're looking worried again, Helena.

No, I'm not.

You look more worried now

than when you decided to stop worrying.

I'll tell you what I'm going to do.

I'm going to roast you a chicken

with candles around it.

Wouldn't it be better if I cook it?

You said, you can only boil.

From Helena.

Sounds like Frank Sinatra.

- Where are the ladies?

- Putting on the war paint.

I can't thank you enough.

Don't thank me, thank Margie.

It's her invitation.

And where Citrine is concerned,

we'll keep it that way.

- Got ya.

- Chivas Regal.

Gentlemen...

Gentlemen, Merry Christmas.

Now, turn around.

Let's see the whole thing. Go on.

You look so pretty.

Once a year. Christmas.

What do you think?

Not too much, just right?

She looks so pretty.

Well, say something, guys.

What?

I got you. Hold my beer, sweetie.

Careful.

Where the hell have you been?

The duty sergeant f***ed up.

I'm on tonight.

- How long have you got?

- One big drink.

- John, did you get my message?

- No.

I left a message on your machine.

It wasn't me calling. Is my wife around?

Kitchen. We got a so-called

professional cook out there,

having a nervous breakdown

over a turkey.

Sure you didn't call?

I spoke to what's-his-name

but never asked for her.

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