Q & A Page #12

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[Tense instrumental music]

QUINN:
Why didn't you listen to me, Francis?

It wasn't cut-and-dried.

It was whatever you chose to make it.

Look at what you've done.

Detective Chapman's fighting for his life.

Zucker's doing Q&A for shooting Brennan.

A legend on this force is dead.

It's already on the 6:00 news.

"Cop turns killer,"

"Rogue cop," "Nervous breakdown."

A desecration of what used to be the finest.

They must be celebrating tonight

all over Harlem, South Bronx...

...Bed-Stuy...

- Mr. Quinn...

I'm in pain. I'm full of sedatives.

QUINN:
I understand.

Just wanted to tell you I'm resigning.

We're announcing my candidacy next week.

QUINN:
I'm trying to decide

whether to keep you on-board.

It's a question of loyalty, you see.

I don't feel a deeply committed

loyalty from you, Francis.

Of course, in a political campaign

that's unacceptable.

Unless you can show me I'm wrong...

...that you share my values and concerns.

Mr. Quinn.

I don't think I should join your campaign,

you know.

I think you should reconsider

whether you announce next week.

Brennan's death is going to require

pretty intensive investigation.

QUINN:
Thank you, Francis.

[Singing] "Que sera, sera

"Whatever will be, will be"

[Quinn laughs]

REILLY:
Is he crazy?

He's got to know something's up.

That we must be at least investigating him.

No, he's not crazy.

Brennan's the only link to him

and all the others.

Brennan's dead.

This whole thing

won't just disappear, though.

- Yes, it will, Al.

- Will what?

Disappear.

How can it?

- We'll bury it.

- What?

BLOOMENFELD:
It's too big. We'll bury it.

You can't.

BLOOMENFELD:
Yes, we can.

REILLY:
How?

We just do it.

It's impossible.

Chappie...

BLOOMENFELD:
The black in blue fighting

for his life. Okay, say he lives.

All he knows is that

Brennan took out two PR drug dealers.

You know what they say

about black cops in the ghetto?

BLOOMENFELD:
"Blue first, black second."

He loved Brennan...

...he'd rather he be remembered

as a nut case than as a murderer.

REILLY:
Valentin?

BLOOMENFELD:
He knows nothing.

A cop having a nervous breakdown

might have shot two drug dealers.

They might have.

Anyway...

...the orders promoting him to Detective,

First Grade, have already been cut.

On that salary,

a home in the suburbs is more than possible.

He can open up a neighborhood.

He's light-skinned, he loves his kids.

All those bodies.

Tony, Sierra, Jose, Bobby Tex.

A bunch of fags and spics

up to their ass in dope.

Who'll give a sh*t?

It's just a normal Saturday night in the city.

Most people will feel good riddance.

And all the original Q&A,

all the paperwork, the investigation...

Someday, I'll show you the records division.

You should see it.

They've got folders dating back to 1791.

But you'd have a hard time finding

Washington's farewell to his troops.

Anyway, paper burns at Fahrenheit 451.

This is a nightmare, Bloomy.

Yeah. I know.

- What about me?

- What about you?

I can yell, I can scream.

Yeah, you can. The Village Voice.

The New York Times. The Daily News.

Call Jimmy Breslin.

Call Pileggi at New York Magazine.

They're all friends of mine.

I'll give you their home numbers.

But...

But...

Moon Mullins.

That's right. He's ours.

And you never reported him.

Yeah, but that's easy.

What, there's something else?

You could cop a plea, maybe, with Mullins.

But there's your father...

BLOOMENFELD:
Posthumously decorated

for heroic action.

Posthumously promoted

to Detective, Second Grade.

Both of those promotions

are in your mother's pension.

Bloomy.

REILLY:
Bloomy.

BLOOMENFELD:
No, let it be, Al.

You can't afford this.

I can't, and God knows the department can't.

BLOOMENFELD:

We've got an election this year.

So Quinn gets away with it?

Is that why he was singing?

Let him run.

Nobody will vote for him, anyway.

He's a prick. People sense these things.

REILLY:
Hey, Bloomy.

Can you really bury something this big?

Bigger.

You're breaking my heart, Bloomy.

You know, it's a dirty job,

but somebody's got to do it.

[Somber instrumental music]

[People screaming]

BLOOMENFELD:
Call me.

REILLY:
[Voice-over] Bobby said there was a

reason they put me on this case.

He was right. What were they

counting on?

My dumbness?

They were on the money.

Maybe they were counting on

my loyalty. Loyalty to what?

What made them think I was one of them?

That day on the corner.

When your husband came round the corner.

Did he say anything to you about me?

Oh, yes. He saw.

He saw it on my face, too.

Yes.

REILLY:
[Voice-over] Maybe they were

figuring on the lack of guts.

Were they right?

I don't know.

I don't think so.

I know I have to fight back, and I will.

I just don't know how to start.

Maybe I've got to start with myself.

Ask myself what caused

that look on my face when I met your father.

I love you, Nancy.

And I want us to marry.

I'll sit by your side until you're ready.

If you tell me you'll never be ready,

I'll leave right now, never bother you again.

Otherwise, I'm here. As long as it takes.

[Tense pop music playing]

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