The Bad Seed Page #7

you won't go to heaven when you die.

I heard plenty.

I listen when people talk, not like you...

...gabbing all the time,

won't let nobody get a word in edgewise.

And that's why I know

what people are saying and you don't.

People tell lies all the time, but I think

you tell them more than anybody else.

I know what you done to that little boy

when you got him on that wharf.

You better listen to me

if you want to stay out of bad trouble.

What did I do, if you know so much?

You picked up a stick

and you hit him with it.

You hit him with it because he wouldn't

give you that medal like you told him to.

I thought I seen some mean little gals

in my time...

...but you're the meanest.

You wanna know how I know

how mean you are?

Because I'm mean.

I'm smart and I'm mean.

And you're smart and you're mean.

And you never get caught

and I never get caught.

I know what you think.

I know everything you think.

Nobody believes anything you say.

You wanna know what you done

after you hit him?

You jerked the medal off his shirt, and

then you rolled that sweet little boy...

- ...off that wharf among them pilings.

- You don't know anything.

None of what you said is true.

You know I'm telling the gospel truth,

I got it figured out.

You figured out something

that never happened, and so it's all lies.

Now, take your excelsior

down to the basement...

...and sleep on it

when you're supposed to be working.

You ain't no dope, that I must say.

That's why you didn't leave that stick

around where nobody could find it.

Oh, no.

You got better sense than that.

You took that bloody stick...

...washed it off real good,

and threw it in the woods...

- ...where nobody could find it.

- You know, I think you're a very silly man.

It was you who was silly, thinking

you could wash off blood and you can't.

- Why can't you wash off blood?

- Because you can't.

And the police know it.

You can wash and you can wash,

and there's always some left.

Everybody knows that.

I'm gonna call the police and tell them...

...to start looking for that stick

in the woods.

They got what they call

stick bloodhounds to help them look...

...and them stick bloodhounds can find

any stick there is that's got blood on it.

When they bring in that stick

you washed off...

...the police are gonna sprinkle

some special blood powder they got on it.

And that little boy's blood

is gonna show up on that stick.

Gonna show up a pretty blue color,

like a robin's egg.

- You're scared about the police yourself.

- Shh.

What you say about me is all about you.

They'll get you with that powder.

Rhoda, it's time to come in now.

- Time to get ready for supper.

- Yes, Mother.

Getting up this excelsior, Mrs. Penmark.

Messing up my lawn here.

- What were you saying to Rhoda?

- Why, nothing, Mrs. Penmark.

We was talking

about her little play dishes.

Well, you are not to talk to her again.

If you do, I'll report you.

Is that entirely clear?

But, ma'am, I...

I started it, Mother.

It wasn't Leroy's fault.

Very well,

but you're not to talk to her again.

- Do you understand?

- Yes, ma'am.

- Mother?

- Hmm?

Is it true that when blood

has been washed off anything...

...a policeman can still

find if it's there?

If he sprinkles some powder

on the place...

...will the place really turn blue?

Who's been talking to you

about such things? Leroy?

Oh, no, Mommy, it wasn't he.

I heard some men talking about it

when I was out front this morning.

I don't know how they'd test for blood,

but I could ask Reginald Tasker.

- Or Miss Fern, she would know...

- No, don't ask her.

Oh, Mommy. Mommy, nobody helps me.

Nobody believes me.

- I'm your little girl.

- All right, Rhoda. It is not a very good act.

Now, you may perfect it enough to convince

someone who doesn't know you...

...but right at present,

it is quite easy to see through.

Maybe I'd better go up

to Monica's and have dinner.

Yes, she said any time.

- Good evening, Mr. Tasker.

- You can't renege on the invitation now.

- I showed up.

- Well, I'm very glad you could come.

- This is my daughter, Rhoda.

- Hello, Rhoda.

- Well, isn't she a little sweetheart?

- Thank you.

That's the kind of thing that makes

an old bachelor wish he were married.

- Oh, you like little girls to curtsy?

- The best thing left out of the Middle Ages.

I'm having dinner upstairs.

The loss is ours, all ours.

- You may go now, Rhoda.

- Yes, Mommy.

It's been a pleasure

to have met you, Mr. Tasker.

Now, there's a little ray of sunshine,

that one.

- Ooh, I've seen her stormy. Ha, ha.

- No doubt.

But she's going to make some man

very happy, just that smile.

Since I spoke to you,

I've had a wire from my father.

He's coming here tonight.

It's a whole year since I've seen him.

- Richard Bravo's coming here?

- Mm-hm.

There's a man

I've always wanted to meet.

Well, he may be here before long.

He said possibly for dinner.

Good. By the way, dear lady...

...if you want advice on writing anything,

you don't need me.

Not with Richard Bravo on the scene...

...especially if it's a mystery story,

as you said.

Your father was a real authority

on crime and horror in his early career.

- I know.

- He covered every famous case there was.

Well, I'm afraid he wouldn't listen to me.

You're always an office boy

to your city editor, aren't you?

- What will it be?

- Uh, gin and tonic?

Good, I'll have that too.

The, uh, question that I wanted to ask you

is a psychological one.

I doubt that it's been asked or answered,

if it has, until recently.

- Well, I may not know all the answers.

- Well, perhaps no one does...

...but this story that I'm thinking

of writing made me wonder.

Tell me,

do children ever commit murders...

...or is crime something

that's learned gradually...

...and grows as the criminal grows...

...so that only adults

do really dreadful things?

Oh, yes, children often commit murders.

And quite clever ones too.

Some murderers,

particularly the distinguished ones...

...who are going to make great names

for themselves...

- ...start amazingly early.

- In childhood?

Oh, yes,

like mathematicians and musicians.

Poets develop later.

Pascal was a master mathematician

at 12.

Mozart showed his melodic genius at 6.

And some of our great criminals

were topflight operators...

...before they got out of short pants

and pinafores.

Yes, but they grew up in the slums,

among criminals...

...and learned from their environment.

Surely, you...

I wonder if that could be Father.

- Daddy.

- Hi, darling.

You're here, you're actually here.

Told you I'd come.

You said you wanted to see me...

- ...and I wanted to see you.

- Oh, I'm so glad.

Oh. Um, Father, this is Reginald Tasker.

Reginald Tasker?

- The writer fella?

- Afraid I stand convicted.

- One of my favorites.

- Put you to sleep regularly, hmm?

Mostly keeps me awake.

Also, I'm not forgetting...

...that impressive research you've done

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