Miller's Crossing Page #22

Tony

Oh Jesus. . . You bring them with you?

As he shoves off from the bar:

Tom

No.

Uniformed policemen are pouring into the club, wielding

axes. They destroy everything in their path, sweeping the

elegantly dressed patrons before them.

Tom wades into the sea of blue and nods at Delahanty, the

policeman we know from the raid on Caspar's.

Tom

'Lo, Brian. Still fighting the good fight?

Delahanty

'Lo, Tom. Neither wind nor rain nor snow. . .

Tom

That's just the mailmen. Is O'Gar here?

Delahanty

Just look for the long face.

58. EXT THE CLUB

It is just cracking dawn.

O'Gar is leaning against a car, facing the club, taking in

the scene as he glumly chews on a toothpick. The street is

clogged with police vehicles.

Tom approaches.

Tom

'Lo, O'Gar. You don't look happy.

O'Gar

Look at this mess. Gutting the golden calf

again.

He shakes his head.

. . . I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

Tom

Yeah, it's awful confusing. You know a yegg

named Drop Johnson?

O'Gar

We've spanked him a couple times.

Tom

Where does he flop?

O'Gar

The Terminal Hotel on Bay Street, whenever he's

broke--which is one hundred percent of always.

Jesus . . .

He reacts to gunfire from the second story of the club.

. . . Don't nobody ask me, since I'm only the

chief around here, but I'll tell you my opinion:

Caspar's just as crazy as Leo. And an eye-tie

into the bargain.

As he heads off:

Tom

What's the matter, O'Gar, doesn't anything ever

suit you?

59. PULLING TOM

As he walks along a nearby street; we can still faintly

hear the sirens and police activity back at the club.

A black touring car is tooling up alongside of him. Tic-

Tac leans out the driver's window. He has welts around his

mouth and looks like he has been a little roughed up.

Tic-Tac

Hop in, Tom, we been lookin' for you.

Still briskly walking:

Tom

I'm busy.

Tic-Tac

Hop in anyway, as in you ain't got no choice.

Tom

You can't hijack me, Tic-Tac, we're on the same

side now--or didn't you get that far in school?

The car screeches over to put a wheel on the sidewalk and

block Tom's way. The back door swings open and Frankie

emerges to help Tom in. Like Tic-Tac, Frankie looks a

little worked over.

Tom quickly sizes up the situation and decides to comply.

60. INT CAR

As Tom sits into the back, next to Bluepoint. Frankie

slides in after him.

Bluepoint

How'd you get the fat lip?

The car starts moving.

Tom

Old war wound. Acts up around morons.

Bluepoint

Very smart. What were you doing at the club?

Talking things over with Leo?

Tom

Don't think so hard, Bluepoint, you might sprain

something.

Bluepoint

You're so goddamn smart. Except you ain't. I

get you, smart guy, I know what you are.

Straight as a corkscrew. Mr. Inside-Outsky.

Like a goddamn bolshevik, picking up your orders

from Yegg Central. You think you're so goddamn

smart.

He sneers:

You joined up with Caspar. You bumped Bernie

Bernheim. Down is up. Black is white. Well I

think you're half-smart. I think you were

straight with your frail and queer with Johnny

Caspar. And I think you'd sooner join the

Ladies' League then gun a guy down.

His eyes narrow at Tom.

. . . Then I hear that these two geniuses never

even saw this rub-out take place.

Defensively:

Tic-Tac

The boss just said have him do it, he didn't say

nothing about--

Bluepoint

Shutup, or maybe you still got too many teeth.

Tic-Tac sulks. Bluepoint turns and gazes out the window of

the car.

. . . Everyone's so goddamn smart. Well, we'll

go to Miller's Crossing. And we'll see who's

smart.

61. EXT WOODS

It is morning; the sun is now fully up. Bluepoint and Tom

walk side-by-side through the woods. Frankie and Tic-Tac

walk several steps ahead of them, each off to one side,

searching. Frankie is singing an old Neapolitan song.

Bluepoint

Y'understand if we don't find a stiff out here,

we leave a fresh one.

Tom walks a little unsteadily. His shoulders are hunched

and his hands are jammed into his overcoat packets. He

stares woodenly forward. Bluepoint laughs softly.

. . . Where're your friends when you need 'em,

huh? Where's Leo now?

Tom tramps mechanically on. His eyes drift up.

HIS POV:

Tracking. A canopy of leaves, sprinkled by sunlight.

The boughs of the trees sough quietly in the wind.

We hear the unearthly groaning of the tree limbs.

TOM:

Looks forward.

Bluepoint calls out:

Bluepoint

Hey Tic-Tac, ever notice how the snappy dialogue

dries up once a guy starts soiling his union

suit?

Tom tramps on.

HIS POV:

The backs of Frankie and Tic-Tac as they walk on ahead.

Frankie is still singing.

TOM:

He looks stupidly at Bluepoint. He looks ahead.

He stops abruptly.

Bluepoint

What?

Tom is still for a moment, then with jerky movements gets

down on his knees, hugs a tree with one arm for support,

and vomits.

Bluepoint watches him, then calls out to Frankie and Tic-

Tac:

. . . Okay, there's nothing out here.

He grabs Tom's hat off his head and flings it away. Then

he plants a foot against Tom's side and shoves him to the

ground.

CLOSE ON TOM:

As his face hits the ground.

Bluepoint's foot enters; he plants it an the side of Tom's

neck to keep him pinned.

TOM'S POV

Skewed angle, from the ground.

Frankie is ambling back, singing.

BLUEPOINT:

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