St. Ives Page #6

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Come out, Mr. St. Ives.

Come out.

There's no point in prolonging this,

Mr. St. Ives.

No point at all. Come out.

St. Ives, it really didn't

have to finish this way.

I'd much rather be partners

with you than Dr. Constable.

It's really worked out beautifully.

All that money and us.

I couldn't kill you, just as

you couldn't kill me.

No, but Charlie could.

What the hell kept you, Charlie?

I had to break a goddamn window

to get in the house.

You were supposed to leave

the door unlatched.

Better put cuffs on that one.

We might have been

good friends, Mr. St. Ives.

How disappointing.

Charlie, that's Procane.

He had a bad dream that came true.

The guy in the pool was his

psychiatrist, named Constable.

Constable tried to trade him

in for 4 million dollars.

Now, that one, did you know

she was a cop?

Used to be a cop.

She's the one that stuck the ice pick in

Frann, also for the 4 million.

That's the 4 million there, huh?

You never told me who

that money belongs to.

Why, Charlie, it belongs to you

if you want it.

The people it really belongs to would

never admit they had ever seen it.

Why don't you take it?

Ah, Charlie.

It's expensive being honest.

It sure as sh*t is.

Look at that. Did you

ever see a cop crying?

Sure, lots of times.

Tears as big as raindrops.

Wow, Charlie, can I use that dialogue?

Be my guest.

- Officer?

- Yes, ma'am?

Before you call the station, would you

help me get off my wet things?

Good luck, Charlie.

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