Just Cause

You want my money,

best throw some elbow into that.

$1.50. That's 2-bits shy a car wash.

$1.50 each.

No, man. You must have got me confused

with some other idiot.

The rain's doing half your work.

Look here.

Bobby Earl, the cultured pearl.

What's up, Gomer?

Boys, take a break.

Bobby Earl, we got to talk.

- I said quit!

- Talk about what?

Take a ride.

- A ride.

- Please.

It's Wilcox.

I need a tech team at Ferguson's place.

What kind of car is that?

Leave him be!

You cracker son of a b*tch!

- I should lock you up!

- Grandma, go inside.

- Can't you just leave him be?

- I'm all right, Grandma.

It's all right.

I'll be back before supper.

Grandma, why are they taking Bobby Earl?

Give me that head!

Let's shake up that cage, son!

You're not getting that meat

tenderized enough?

Sit down!

Let's see what else we got to start with.

Look here, Bobby Earl!

Get the f*** up.

I'll ask you nicely, son.

Did you f*** her before

or after you filleted her?

Country-ass motherf***er.

"A**hole," is it?

I'll show you!

F***ing a**hole!

"At the first official electrocution in 1890...

"...the victim had the electrodes

removed from his head...

"...after 15 seconds.

"Suddenly he opened his eyes

and began gasping for air...

"...apparently unaware

that he was supposed to be dead.

"The warden and all present

lost their wits...

"...before calling for the current

to be turned back on.

"Witnesses describe a blue flame

playing about the base of the spine.

"This time the electricity flowed

for four minutes.

"Over the years, other witnesses

to electrocutions...

"...have described the prisoner

catching fire...

"...the electricity so powerful...

"...that the eyeballs pop out

onto the cheeks...

"...a sound like bacon frying.

"During the autopsy, the liver is so hot

that it can't be touched by human hands.

"Despite its best efforts,

this justice system has killed...

"...at least 23 innocent men...

"...and sentences blacks who kill whites...

"...seven times more than whites

who kill blacks. "

1890...

... to the 1990s.

Over 100 years of progress.

You paint a grim picture indeed, Professor.

I wish you had been as vivid

describing the victims.

They were people who suffered

far more cruel and unusual punishment...

... than any our penal system

could even imagine.

- I refuse to believe...

- Let me finish.

- Let me finish.

- Very well.

I submit to you, the issue is revenge.

An eye for an eye,

a tooth for a tooth, if you will.

No, I refuse to believe

in any god or government...

... which is willing to trade

torture for torture...

... or death for death.

In closing, Professor...

... if your wife...

... or child were murdered...

... how would you feel

about that last statement of yours?

How would I feel?

Very much the same as yourself.

But I would not want

their deaths avenged...

... by a system as cruel

and capricious as this.

- You changed my mind.

- I thought I had you.

- They're going to kill my boy.

- Excuse me?

My grandson's in a Florida prison

on Death Row for something he didn't do.

Good luck. I'll see you in Washington.

I'm sorry. I no longer practice law.

He said to me,

"Go up to Cambridge, Massachusetts.

"Find Mr. Paul Armstrong...

"...and give him this."

Well, thank you.

I'll read it and get back to you.

Read it now.

Come far?

Ochopee, Florida.

A long way.

"Victim was white. I am black.

No food or water."

Beaten?

By Mr. Tanny Brown, the black-hatingest

police in Everglade County.

"Murder one.

"Death penalty."

The white judge was 87.

He called Bobby Earl an animal,

ought to be shot.

It's 25 years since I practiced law.

If you say no, he said to go to Princeton,

New Jersey and find Mr. Harry Gilyard.

A good man.

But he said to come to you first.

I'm sorry, I can't.

Can I drive you somewhere?

Nowhere.

There a 2:
00 a.m. Bus to Princeton

from the Trailways station.

I can get there by myself.

Thank you for your time.

No, you keep it.

It's got your name on it.

Daddy!

Wonderful, wonderful.

Carry on.

Where's Mommy?

- Hi.

- What happened to you?

I was working in juvenile detention center

this morning with this kid, Carlos.

He was in for dealing.

Usual rap sheet:
Misdemeanors,

history of drug use.

Half-hour in, I ask about his mother.

And he goes berserk.

I'm on my back seeing stars.

A day at the office.

An hour later,

I'm standing in front of the judge...

...convincing her he's perfect

for the Crossroads program instead of jail.

How did you explain the eye?

I told her my husband's a wife beater.

Thank you very much.

Why don't you go back to being a lawyer?

It is safer.

For who? Me or the bad guys?

More popcorn, please.

Daddy will bring it.

Paul, how did the debate go?

Little old lady showed up tonight.

Tells me her grandson's on Death Row

down in Florida.

A black kid. Went to Cornell.

Can I see it?

Back to the salt mines.

He needs a lawyer...

...not a teacher. And I need a drink.

Did you really read this?

Maybe this one is worth checking out.

Why don't you check it out?

You know Everglade County.

Can we sleep outside?

No way.

I'd sooner go to hell

than into another courtroom.

This would be really good for you.

Put you in the real world.

Why is every f***ing thing the real world

except teaching?

That's the real world?

He's on Death Row. He's asking you

to put your money where your mouth is.

All I'm saying is that...

...every once in a while

you got to get a little bloody.

It's good for the soul.

- I see them.

- There they are.

Grandma!

Dad.

What's that on your face?

Hi, sweetness.

Welcome.

It's not a bad paper as papers go,

but that's not saying much.

Delores, sweetheart.

Hey, Mr. Phil.

It's been a long time.

Paul Armstrong.

My son-in-law.

Delores Rodriguez,

keeper of archives, news-trivia expert.

Buried three husbands.

Were it not for Libby, I could well be No. 4.

How is Libby's health?

It's good.

Pity.

Business.

Paul needs information

on the Joanie Shriver murder.

That poor kid from Ochopee?

Watch your back in here.

We are on-line back to 1985.

Everything before that is on microfiche.

I'll see what else I can find.

How long?

That depends. You'll be amazed

at what I can do with a little help.

Mr. Armstrong.

Sergeant Rogers?

Raise your arms, please.

Tape recorder.

There you go.

Your first time, Mr. Armstrong?

Buzz when you want out.

If you're unable to buzz,

don't worry about it.

Sweet Jesus.

The old girl said

you'd be coming up in here.

I said, "No.

"No, Grandma, he's too busy...

"...to come all the way from Harvard

just to give me his time."

But praise God...

...here you is.

If I really talked with

that verbal buck-and-shuffle...

...I'd be free today.

What's your game?

It's no game.

Funny thing about

small-town Florida people.

Like crabs in a bucket, black or white.

One tries to climb out, the others

hop on his back to put him back in.

Souls of Black Folk, DuBois.

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