Malice Page #7

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with $10 million in one hand

and a copy of his God complex memo

in the other.

- With an inscription.

- What would it say?

It wouldn't say anything. It would read.

Attagirl, Trace.

What would it read?

"Never underestimate

a genius with a chip on his shoulder."

Sh*t! What the f*** was that?

Oh, my God!

Where did that come from?

Andy.

What?

Andy's been here.

What are you talking about?

He knows.

Then why aren't the police

knocking on the door?

Because he's playing with us.

- Andy?

- Yes.

I don't believe it.

Believe it.

How could he possibly...

Well, let's think about that

for a moment, shall we?

What could we have done wrong?

Let's retrace the plan

and see if we can put our finger

on a detail we may have overlooked.

One of us may have improvised.

One of us may have decided that

to get pregnant would double the money.

It did double the money.

Now I don't want to hear

about it anymore. It is history.

No, no, no kidding.

It's the present.

It's the here and the now

and the needle in the haystack.

Let me ask you something.

Once he found out he was sterile,

how long do you think it took him

to figure out there was no Dr. Lillianfield?

Do you understand what I'm saying?

There wasn't supposed to be a baby.

I'll take care of Andy.

Don't get up.

What happened to your face?

I tripped.

I heard they caught the guy, the rapist.

Yeah.

Well, that must be a load off your mind.

Yeah, it's great

to finally have things back to normal.

Andy, they can be back to normal.

What's that?

Things.

Our life.

Remember me?

- Tracy.

- What?

I think you dropped your shoe.

What can I get you?

We'll have two glasses of house wine.

- Is chardonnay all right?

- It'll be fine.

- Anything else?

- Some privacy.

Sweetie, I'm going to talk for a minute,

so it would be better

if you don't interrupt me, okay?

I found a hypodermic needle in my bed.

I don't know who put it there,

it doesn't matter.

What matters

is that I didn't think it was funny.

And as you well know,

I've a healthy sense of humor.

So what I'm saying is this.

Whoever played that joke is playing

in a league they're just not ready for.

Now, I came here

hoping we could reach an understanding.

I'm afraid I'm gonna have to

hold a grudge on this one, Trace.

Go to cops. They'll call you crazy.

As would Westerly or any another school

at which you try and get a teaching job.

Happy hunting, Andy.

- Sit the f*** down!

- What?

I said sit the f*** down.

I'm running the show now.

You're running it

with an empty hypodermic needle?

I'm running it

with trace amounts of Pergonal.

Here you go.

Ma'am, would you happen to know

anything about a drug called Pergonal?

I'm sorry.

Never mind. That's all right.

It's a fertility drug, Andy.

I was trying to get pregnant.

A fertility drug. That's exactly

what the lab guys told me.

But it turns out that Pergonal,

when it's injected in, like, massive

quantities will actually create ovarian cysts.

They gathered brilliant young surgeons

around, Trace,

'cause you gave us all quite a scare.

The hormone dissolved in the ovaries, you

wouldn't have a clue how much I was taking.

That's right.

It's not like I had a witness.

I mean, if I had a witness

who saw Jed giving you the injections,

then you and doctor man

would be spending

the rest of your sexually-active years

in a place where if you're very, very good,

they'll let you work in the laundry.

You're bluffing.

Tracy.

Right now,

more than anything else in the world,

don't you wish I had finally gotten around

to putting up the curtains in the bedroom?

Sh*t!

Are you all right?

- You should run that under some water.

- No, I'm fine.

- Are you sure? Let me just...

- I said I'm fine!

Jesus!

You spilled your wine, Trace.

By the by,

you should know in case some bizarre,

active God should happen to take my life,

my will's been amended

to direct the police to the 10-year-old son

of our next-door neighbor.

What do you want?

What does anybody want?

I want the Red Sox to win the World Series.

You haven't taken the kid to the police.

What do you want?

I had a chat with your mom.

Not bad looking for somebody

who's been dead for 12 years.

What do you want, Andy?

I want to change my life, Tracy.

I don't think

Emma was stating the case either,

and she knows

some pretty cool card tricks.

Cut the sh*t! What do you want?

I want half.

What the f*** do you think I want?

Give him the money.

What?

Give the man the money,

and let's get out of here.

Jesus, Jed. Don't fade on me.

I need you to focus on this thing.

I'm telling you precisely what to do.

Give the guy the 10 bucks

and we leave the country.

I'm supposed to split the money three ways?

I'm supposed to just accept this?

Welcome to the land

where you don't have a choice.

Don't f***ing turn on me.

I earned this money.

This money is mine.

He's not getting a nickel.

They write the check to me.

Not in prison, they don't.

Without the kid,

he doesn't have anything.

Without the kid, Andy is just a guy

who cracked under the strain.

What?

Absolutely.

Do you know what you're saying?

What's the big leap, Jed?

You cut me open, stuck your hands in,

twisted my ovaries, so they look all dead.

Excuse me, necrotic.

Now you develop some enlightened sense

of what's right and wrong?

- He's a child.

- No!

He is a f***ing troll who deserves to be put

out of his misery for f***ing up my life!

Now, if you don't have the balls to...

Don't talk about this again.

Anything happens to the kid,

and I'm the State's star witness.

Give the man the money.

I'm sorry I hit you.

Put it down.

How much blood did you let me lose

before you saved me?

You waited an extra minute or two,

didn't you?

You thought about going the other way

after you saw I was pregnant.

You thought for a second

about letting me die, didn't you?

- I'm a doctor.

- You were a doctor.

Don't overestimate yourself, Tracy.

Give me the gun.

Come on.

- Hello?

- It's me.

I have the money.

- Where are you?

- I'm at Market Square.

Meet me in the northwest corner

in 15 minutes.

Like shooting tuna in a barrel.

I won't mind shooting you.

What took you so long?

We were waiting for Jed.

Somehow, I don't think

he's going to show.

Don't move. You need a doctor.

You hear that, Trace?

We need a doctor.

You okay?

I will be.

You're supposed to put ice on that.

I don't want any ice.

You need ice.

Fine.

I'll have mine in a glass

with some scotch.

Fine.

Single malt. Nothing blended.

Blended whiskey is crap.

Somebody told me that once.

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