Q & A Page #11

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yes or no, until I tell you to talk.

BRENNAN:
Okay?

Now I want that f***ing Texador.

Are you going to get him down here for me?

Alone.

How?

It's okay, talk.

I don't know, Mike, but I'll do it.

I'll do it.

How do I know you won't kill me

after I call him?

You don't.

But you know I'll kill you now if you don't.

Let's go.

ROGER:
Where is everybody?

BRENNAN:
People have to work, Roger.

Stop a minute.

You're making no sense here.

How many times do you want me to say it?

They said they were from lmmigration.

"Where's my papers," sh*t like that

and a lot of questions about you.

ROGER:
I don't know who they were. They

could be from 116th Street for all I know.

Where is Gilberto?

That prick? Not on this f***ing float, baby.

Where'd you get him, off the Titanic?

That bastard walked off the boat.

You listen to me, you son of a b*tch.

Listen to me!

If you're not down here in an hour,

you're never going to see me again.

I'm going crazy.

I'm coming. I'm on my way now.

And one other thing:

I don't want to see those

two Cubans with you, either.

They hate me. I'll see them coming!

I see them coming, baby...

...l'm throwing myself in the f***ing ocean!

NANCY:
Bobby, what's happening?

BOBBY:
I don't know.

Could be nothing, could be something.

[Ln Spanish]

[Roger crying]

Come on Roger.

Come on, cut that sh*t out.

Come on, cut it out, Roger.

Roger.

Roger, you did very good out there.

You did.

Listen, I've always returned favors,

haven't I, Roger?

Come on, Roger, now cut it out.

ROGER:
[Crying] God!

Can I have a blow, Mike?

Sure, Roger. Help yourself.

Roger, can I have one, too?

No, no, not that kind.

[Tense instrumental music]

BRENNAN:
That's more like it. Turn around.

BRENNAN:
Here, let's take this robe off.

BRENNAN:
There you go now.

[Siren wails]

[Tense pop music]

Looking at this morning's report.

Jose Malpica, Roger's girlfriend.

Been dead over 36 hours.

CHAPMAN:
It was Brennan.

REILLY:
How do you...

I tailed him. He stayed five minutes.

Came out and took off. I stayed with him.

What was I supposed to do,

knock on the door?

VALENTIN:
The fox is in the chicken coop.

Check this out.

It's okay to touch, Frank?

Yeah, what the f***. Go ahead.

A thousand people have done it already.

[Pop song continues]

VALENTIN:
Just put me through

on the phone. Goddamn it!

VALENTIN:
I want to speak

to the Police Commissioner in San Juan.

VALENTIN:
Of course I don't have

the number, goddamn it. Come on!

The Presidential Suite. S, el Presidente.

Nancy, this is Al. Get out!

Get out right now!

REILLY:
It's all coming down.

What's coming down? Where's Bobby?

Have you got anybody with you?

Yes, Armand's here. But where's Bobby?

[Tense pop music]

[Yelling in Spanish]

"The wreckage reveals two,

possibly three, bodies on board.

"One boot found...

"...believed to be the type

worn by Roberto Texador...

"...long under surveillance of San Juan PD.

"Hand and fingerprint identification

of possible second body...

"...forwarded to the FBI, Washington.

Rodriguez."

VALENTIN:
We should cover the airport.

Every San Juan flight.

REILLY:
Why?

If Brennan did this, he'll be back.

Looking for you, us.

CHAPMAN:
I'm not bringing him in.

Pray you get the chance.

My guess is, we'll have to kill him.

CHAPMAN:
You're a cop.

Your job is to talk first.

My job is to get home to my wife and kids.

Put two men

on everything arriving from San Juan.

Go through Port Authority Police.

Valentin, he must be brought in alive.

I'm not bringing him in.

Al, when I last spoke to San Juan,

they said they thought she was all right.

Thought?

When they got to the hotel,

she had already checked out.

The clerk said she left with

one of those two Cuban Hebes.

When we were talking, you

and Bobby Tex were out on the terrace...

...Alfonse, Gaston, one of those two guys...

...mentioned this island

they take their mother to.

No airport, no hotel.

Guyola. Maybe she went there, man.

Thank you, Val.

ANNOUNCER:
TWA Flight 210

to Montego Bay and Kingston...

...is now boarding at Gate 16.

BRENNAN:
NYPD.

AIRLINE REP:
I'm sorry, but you see...

[Very loud airplane engines reverberate]

BLOOMENFELD:
We're onto something.

REILLY:
What?

BLOOMENFELD:
When he was a cop

early on...

...Brennan was brought up on charges

for shooting a 16-year-old black kid.

BLOOMENFELD:

The witnesses said it was a clean take-out.

BLOOMENFELD:

But the only Q&A we can find is Brennan's.

All the other depositions,

they're not in the files.

It was Quinn's first case as Homicide Chief.

Quinn destroyed them.

That's how he got his hooks in Brennan.

Not necessarily.

To keep his hooks in him,

they have to exist somewhere.

JERRY:
Hi, Mike.

BRENNAN:
Hi, Jerry.

JERRY:
How you doing?

Any word from Valentin?

Nothing at Kennedy. They're heading back.

This just came in from San Juan.

[Phones ringing, sound of typing]

You're not the man your father was, Reilly.

You're siding with

the shooflies and the rats.

You don't love cops, Reilly.

I loved my father, Mike.

Oh, Reilly.

You just loved the idea of your father.

Now, your father was dirty.

He was as dirty as they come.

Nothing big, just penny-ante stuff.

You know, free meals. A place to coop.

For a while, he was a bag man

for a pad in the South Bronx.

The normal stuff. He took home

$100, $150 a week. That's all.

But hell, what a cop.

Like me, he was the first

through the door, the window, the skylight.

I mean, he knew

there were animals out there!

He knew there was a line the n*ggers,

the spics, the junkies, the faggots...

...had to cross to get into people's throats.

He was that line. I am that line.

And the f***ing judges and Jew lawyers,

Aldermen and guinea DAs are raking it in.

We take a f***ing hamburger

and it's goodbye badge, gun and pension.

All the time, it's our life that's on the line.

It's our widows and our orphans!

Now you're a rogue cop, you mick bastard.

You went from our side to their side.

CHAPMAN:
Hey, Mike!

I don't want to take you in, Mike.

You won't, Chappie.

Not by myself, Mike. I wouldn't know how.

I knew that in the Corps.

CHAPMAN:
But don't make me try, Mike.

Now you can't get out.

You'll beat me but you'll go down, Mike.

So, come on, give me the gun.

Come on, Mike, turn yourself in.

I'm your friend.

I always said you was

the whitest n*gger I ever knew, Chappie.

VALENTIN:
Freeze!

BRENNAN:
F*** you, honey dripper!

ZUCKER:
Down! Down!

[Women sobbing]

Sh*t, Chappie.

Al?

VALENTIN:
Max.

We got a real mess here, man.

Maybe some civilians.

Send everything.

Jesus Christ. Taken out by a virgin Hebe.

[Phone rings]

Yeah?

QUINN:
Is this Assistant District Attorney

Aloysius Francis Reilly?

Yeah.

This is Kevin Quinn,

Chief of the Homicide Bureau.

Office of the District Attorney,

County of New York.

What do you want, Quinn?

A squad car is on the way to pick you up.

I want you in my office within the hour.

You still work for me. Be there.

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