The Limey Page #2

Makes a kind of scoffing gesture: and you can see what my

life is.

ED:

Valentine came into the restaurant where

I work with Jenny a couple times. He's a

money guy. Jenny would say, hey, here's

my friend Eddie and he would shake my

hand and everything, but he wouldn't even

see me, you know what I mean.

Wilson gazes up at the sky. Clear night. Stars.

WILSON:

How long had she been in the States?

(as if to himself, somewhat

wistful)

Near on ten years, wasn't it? Long

enough to know her way about, I reckon.

Ed leans down, palms on the tabletop, facing Wilson.

ED:

There was an investigation, okay? The

car was totalled. Jennifer was... Her

neck was broken. On impact, they said.

So she wouldn't have... felt the effects

of the fire.

(helpless shrug)

It happens up there. Happens a lot.

What more can I tell you.

Wilson taps out a cigarette from a pack of "Silk Cut" he's

produced from his pocket.

WILSON:

What more is there.

ED:

I'm just sayin' -- it was a steep

hillside. There was no moon that

night...

Wilson's quiet stillness is getting to him.

ED:

Coulda happened to anyone, man. I never

knew her to be reckless. I mean, sure,

she would smoke a little grass, or

something, have a few drinks. But that's

it, nothing more than that.

WILSON:

No, not my girl. Self-control, she had.

Point of pride.

(smokes)

And people don't change, do they.

ED:

I dunno... Maybe they do.

Wilson notes the tattoos on Ed's forearms.

WILSON:

Going straight, are ya.

Ed looks at him. Sits down again. Keeping his forearms under

the table.

ED:

(looks away)

Boomerang.

WILSON:

Y'what?

ED:

I knew when I was droppin' that letter

into the mail slot it was gonna come back

and smack me in the face.

(looks at Wilson again)

I did my time, okay? My sister, her ol'

man's up in Chino right now doin' eight

years.

WILSON:

(re the family inside)

This ain't your lot?

ED:

You kiddin', man? I don't need a wife

and screamin' kids. I still got my

youth.

And yet -- he lives here. Wilson declines to pursue the

matter.

ED:

I go to work, try to keep my life

together, put all that sh*t behind me,

man. What d'you want from me.

WILSON:

(calmly smoking)

I only asked.

Ed sighs. Reaches for one of Wilson's cigarettes.

ED:

Couple weeks before she died, Jennifer

asked me to drive her downtown. Said she

was meeting -- her boyfriend --

Valentine. But I think she was looking

for him.

FLASH CUTS:

ED AND JENNIFER. In a car, downtown. She has the same steely

intensity as her father. Ed looks a little worried.

WILSON:

(lighting Ed's cigarette)

What, tryin' to catch him with another

bird?

ED:

That's what I thought, man. But it was

not a hotel or nothin' that we went to.

It was someplace else.

WILSON:

Where abouts?

FLASH CUTS:

JENNIFER. Talking to a beefy SUPERVISOR. Or talking at him.

Either way, he isn't happy.

MEAT PUPPETS. Watch instead of working.

ED. Taking all this in.

ED:

Bad place, man. Bad people. Some guys

loading some trucks. Some kinda deal

goin' down.

(anticipating Wilson's next

question)

I don't know and I don't care. Maybe

they're shipping fava beans to Eskimos.

WILSON:

Did Jenny know?

ED:

(shrugs)

Valentine wasn't even there. If he was

into something, if she was involved --

who can say.

(stands up again)

But I'll tell you something. She stood

in front of these dudes, man. Eyeballing

them. Checking them out.

(beat)

I felt like she was covering my ass that

day.

Unconsciously rubbing his arms where his tattoos are.

ED:

I drove her back to Valentine's house.

FLASH CUT:

VALENTINE. Standing in front of his house. His expression

says:
We have something to discuss.

ED:

He was standing outside waiting for her.

That's the only other time I ever saw

him.

(a short sad note)

Last time I saw her.

He meets Wilson's gaze. As hard and pointed as a drill

through his skull.

CUT.

INT. ED'S CAR. NIGHT.

Ed drives Wilson back to his motel. Wilson silent. Ed still

not quite sure who he's dealing with. Is this really or

merely a grieving dad?

ED:

What you gonna do, man? You gonna go to

the cops?

WILSON:

Nah, coppers don't do nothing, do they.

ED:

Those streets up in the hills, man.

Gotta be real careful, keep your eye on

the ball. Two o'clock in the morning,

it's dark, your mind is all agitated,

you're drivin' a little too fast...

(beat)

Those curves don't kid around.

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