Miller's Crossing Page #25

Tom

Nobody knows anybody. Not that well.

Caspar shakes his head.

Caspar

Money don't mean that much to him.

Tom shrugs.

Tom

Then it's not just money he's after. He's got a

wart on his fanny.

Caspar

. . . Huh?

Tom

A wart. On his fanny. Giving him the fidgets.

Maybe he's sick of sitting on the couch and maybe

behind your desk don't look like a bad place to

move to. Maybe he figures the money can help

move him there.

Caspar studies Tom.

Caspar

. . . Kid, you got a lip on ya.

He looks off again.

. . . I don't generally care for it. But you're

honest, and that's something we can't get enough

of in this business. . . I'll admit, since last

we jawed, my stomach's been seazin' up on me.

Bluepoint saying we should double-cross you; you

double-cross once, where's it all end? An

innaresting ethical question. I'll find Blue-

point, talk to him, straighten it out--

Tom laughs bitterly.

Tom

Sure, talk to him. Have a chat. Ask him whether

he's selling you out. Don't take care of him

before he makes his next move, just sit back and

let him make it. You're swimmin' in it.

Caspars eyes flash. Tom's tone softens:

. . . Johnny, my chin's hanging out right along

side yours.

Caspar goes slack.

Caspar

Yeah.

Tom stands up.

Tom

. . . I'd worry a lot less if I thought you were

worrying enough.

Caspar, miserable, rubs his face. From the distant street,

we hear another booming explosion.

Caspar

. . . But I am, kid. . . Christ. . . running

things. . .

68. CUT TO:

TOM'S APARTMENT

The phone is ringing at the cut.

We are looking at the window sill upon which the phone

sits, with an empty chair facing.

Footsteps approach and Tom sits into frame and takes the

phone.

Tom

Yeah?

Through the phone:

Voice

I got your message.

Tom

'Lo, Bernie, I had a dream about you the other

day.

We hear Bernie laugh.

Bernie

. . . Yeah? A nightmare?

Tom

On the contrary; very sweet. I dreamt you were

lying out at Miller's Crossing with your face

blown off.

More laughter.

Bernie

. . . You get a kick out of that?

Tom

I was in stitches. It's Mink, isn't it?

Bernie

I came back and he wasn't happy to see me. Can

you beat that, Tom? All he could taik about was

how he had to skip, and how much trouble he'd be

in if anyone found me at his place.

Tom

Some friend.

Bernie

Yeah. And you know what a nervous boy he was. I

figured, hell, you're a friend. Maybe you could

use some insurance.

Tom

That's you to the gills, Bernie: thoughtful. You

didn't happen to keep his gun, did you?

After a moment's hesitation:

. . . Didn't Mink have a .22?

Bernie

Held already ditched it. Why?

Another hesitation:

Tom

. . . After Rug?

Bernie

Yeah. . . How did you know?

Down to business:

Tom

Doesn't matter. Listen, Bernie, I've been

thinking about our little deal and I've decided

you can stick it in your ear.

Bernie

. . . Huh?

Tom

I figure you don't have anything on me that I

don't have on you. As a matter of fact, less,

since I've decided to leave town. So I'm calling

your bluff.

Bernie

Wait a minute--

Tom

Shutup and let me talk. I'm pulling out of here,

tomorrow morning. The only thing for you to

decide is whether or not I leave behind a message

for Caspar that you're still around. If you want

me to keep my mouth shut, it'll cost you some

dough.

Bernie

You can't--

Tom

I figure a thousand bucks is reasonable. So I

want two thousand.

Bernie

In a pig's eye--

Tom

This isn't a debate, it's instructions. I'm

going out for a while; I'll be back here at four

this morning. Bring me the money. If you're not

at my place, four o'clock, with the dough,

Caspar'll be looking for you tomorrow.

He hangs up.

69. CUT TO:

HALLWAY:

We are close on Tom as, in overcoat and hat, he emerges

from his apartment and looks down at the keys in his hand.

WHAP--A fist swings into frame to connect with Tom's cheek.

He falls back.

Three topcoated men loom over him.

First Man

Got any money?

Tom is massaging his face.

Tom

. . . No.

The first man nods at the other two.

First Man

Okay.

The two men pick Tom off the floor and start to work him

over. He doesn't resist.

The first man watches dispassionately.

. . . Third race tonight. By the finish, Tailor

Maid had a view of the field.

He lights himself a cigarette.

. . . You oughta lay off the ponies, Tom.

The two men work in silence for a while. Tom too is

silent.

Finally:

. . . Okay.

The two men back away from Tom, breathing heavily. He

slides down the wall to the floor.

. . . Lazarre said he's sorry about this. It's

just getting out of hand.

Tom speaks thickly, his head propped against the baseboard:

Tom

. . . Yeah.

First Man

He likes you, Tom. He said we didn't have to

break anything.

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