Secret Window Page #2

money-scribbling a**hole like you...

...get down to a little shitsplat town

in Mississippi...

...and steal my goddamn story?

- Drop it.

- Drop it?

Drop it. What in the hell

do you mean, drop it?

You said you wrote your story in 1997.

I wrote mine in late '94.

It was published for the first time

in June 1995 in a magazine.

Nice try, Mr. Shooter,

but I beat you by two years.

If anybody's got a b*tch about

plagiarism, it's me.

You lie!

- No, I don't!

- Prove it!

I don't have to prove a thing to you.

Go look for yourself. Ellery Queen's

Mystery Magazine, June 1995.

- And how am I supposed to find that?

- That's not my problem.

Am I supposed to drive down to your

house in Riverdale, New York...

...and ask your wife, Amy, for it?

I read it on your book jacket.

That's not my house. That's hers.

What the hell does that mean?

What do you think, you ignorant hick?

I'm in the middle of a divorce.

D-I-V-O-R-C-E. Divorce.

You strike me as the kind of guy...

...who's on the lookout for a head

he can knock off with a shovel.

But what you don't understand is,

if we do start to fight...

...it's not going to end...

...until one or the other of us

is dead.

Hold your water,

I'm just getting my smokes.

I don't smoke.

I'll give you three days.

Call your ex and get her to send you

the magazine with your story in it...

...if there is such a magazine...

...and I'll be back.

If I show you, will you go back where

you came from and leave me alone?

Three days.

Always a pleasure to meet a reader.

I don't want to call her.

I want to go to sleep.

I want to take a nap.

Okay. No nap.

I give her a call

about the magazine...

...I go write some crap

for a couple of hours...

...and then I get to take a nap. Right?

Chico?

Chico

Don't be discouraged

All right, go ahead and be

discouraged, you blind bastard.

See if I care.

And returned to the couch...

...in shame...

...degradation...

...and sloth.

Sloth.

Shooter!

I'll get you for this!

You hear me?

I'll get you for this!

Chico? He killed Chico?

Yeah. Last night around 9.

I was asleep.

Look, he left this.

"You have three days.

I'm not joking. No police."

Anytime somebody sits down

and writes "No police"...

...that's exactly the time that a fella

should get himself over to the police.

Yeah, well, that's what I figured.

So, what I've got is a detailed

description of him and his car.

Type a little harder.

You have to get through the carbon.

I didn't get the license plate number...

...but I'm sure it had Mississippi tags,

and I think that it started with an A.

That's what I see in my mind.

Needlepoint. Can you believe it?

Doc says it's good for the arthritis.

Anyway, anything you can find out

about this guy, I'd appreciate it.

I must cut quite an intimidating

law-enforcement figure, huh?

I'd like to know what I'm dealing with.

Maybe he has a violent history.

Maybe you can find him, talk to him.

I think that would be better.

So you got yourself a member

of the crazy folks tribe?

Yeah. I mean, they pop up

every once in a while.

I suppose it's just the price

of selling a few books.

Sorry.

Here's the... Here's that description.

Of course, killing an animal

isn't like killing a man.

I'm not even sure it's a crime,

come to think.

Come on, it's gotta be.

What about animal cruelty?

What about destruction

of private property? What about...?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe.

Okay.

First thing I'm going to need

is a description.

Tell me the truth. Did you steal it?

What? No!

Kind of an amazing coincidence,

don't you think?

The stories being so much alike?

Obviously he copied me. Would you

like to choose a side before we go on?

I'm on your side.

But I still need to know the truth.

Which kind of situation is this?

Is he a regular wacko like you've had

before, in which case I can help...

...or something you should talk

to your lawyer about?

No, this guy is just simply

out of his mind. That's all it is.

Fine. Okay.

What do you want me to do?

I want you to help me

in the same way that...

In the same way that you did before.

He wasn't this crazy.

That guy was just

an obsessed reader...

...who couldn't tell real life from

the crap you make up for a living.

No offense.

Now, this Shooter guy,

he threaten your life?

- He put a screwdriver through my dog.

- Well, he did break a law...

...but it doesn't seem to be a

very important law in Tashmore Lake.

The sheriff must be a cat person.

Yeah, well, I don't exactly feel safe...

...with a 70-year-old arthritic sheriff

watching my back.

Are you gonna help me or not?

Let's see...

...I got a corporate loyalty thing

I got to be back for on Friday...

...but I can give you

a couple of days.

Okay.

My story came out a couple years...

...before he says he wrote his.

I've got a copy of the original

at Amy's house.

I was just gonna stop by

on my way upstate and pick it up.

- Amy's house?

- Yeah.

- Amy and I split up six months ago.

- I'm sorry.

Yeah, me too.

- Amicable?

- Not remotely.

What happened? You finally nail one

of your groupies at a book signing?

The Omaha Barnes and Noble?

That was a dick thing to say,

you know? Rotten profession.

I apologize.

- You were saying?

- I was saying...

...that if it's just proof that this guy

wants, fine. I show him the magazine.

But I think maybe you should

be with me when I do.

No sh*t,

I'm gonna be with you.

- You remember my rate?

- Yeah. An obscene fortune, right?

You'll see a black Cadillac in the

driveway tonight when you get home.

Don't freak out,

it's me keeping an eye on things.

Okay.

Get a good night's sleep.

You don't look too hot.

This is not my beautiful house.

This is not my beautiful wife.

Anymore.

- You scared the sh*t out of me.

- Hey, I'm sorry about that.

This last week must have

finally caught up with me.

- That's very reassuring. Thanks.

- Hey, relax, Hemingway.

I was only out 10 minutes,

swear to God.

Already checked the place.

Everything is fine.

Just waiting for you to get back

to let you know.

You think you'll be

sticking around tonight, or...?

No. Not unless you want me to.

No. No.

No, I'm sure it's fine in there.

Nope.

No monsters up here.

Did you check under my bed?

Even in your toy chest.

I'll be back in the morning.

Start asking around town.

What the hell you gonna

do with that, sailor?

Find out who else saw your nut-job.

Tom Greenleaf.

Tom Greenleaf passed by

when I was talking to Shooter.

He waved at us, so he must have

gotten a good look at him.

Tom Greenleaf.

How do I get ahold of him?

Bowie's store,

breakfast every morning, 9 a.m.

Okay, I got it. Don't worry.

Once I find out where

this Shooter's staying...

...I'll stop in for a little freak-me-out

chat. Use the word "we" a lot.

"We know what you're doing. We want

it to stop. We're watching you."

Trust me, he'll hit the road so hard,

it'll hit back.

Hey. You know what?

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