The Million Dollar Hotel Page #2

Yeah, sure.

That's not exactly why I'm here.

Israel Goldkiss was pushed from the roof.

That makes you a suspect.

Jesus bleeding Christ! Are you paying attention?

I'm talking The Beatles, here. The Fab Four.

John understood.

That's why they had him killed, you know?

Now they're trying to kill me, because they

finally realised who's behind all those songs.

- But I ain't seen no royalties.

- Yeah, that's tough.

But either you cooperate, or I book you.

I've been doing nothing but cooperate

my whole f***ing life.

That's what it's all about

to be in a band.

I'm not saying

they weren't creatively involved...

but most of the time,

they were off with that Maharishi.

You know, India, whatever, you know.

There I was, all alone in the studio

with my brilliant ideas...

Thank God I had George Martin.

George... Oh, that album in particular,

we grew together like this, me and George.

That's what worries me.

You're worried about some flying junkie.

You big mystery solver.

"Roll up, roll up!"

You better solve this: how the f*** could they

release that album without me on the cover?

If you want to make a name for yourself,

Sergeant, you go and figure that one out.

I only do one case at a time.

Tell you what, you give me a confession,

I'll look into those royalties for you.

I don't know, maybe it was

the excitement of everything...

...murder and mystery

and special agents.

Suddenly I just knew:

this was my chance to speak to Eloise.

I wanted her to know my name.

It took me a while.

You can be slow but confident.

I guess that's the way I am... was.

You shouldn't be smoking.

Sometimes when people smoke, they...

...they die, and sometimes

they even get cancer.

Cancer.

And sometimes people die when they smoke,

and sometimes they even get cancer.

I can't die.

Oh, you can't?

- You can't?

- I don't exist.

So, how come?

I'm fictional.

Sergeant, I don't know

what medication you're on, but...

Izzy was a dreamer.

We were all dreamers, you know.

Haven't you ever read the interviews?

Haven't you ever seen the tapes?

"I was driving to John's in my Aston Martin,

and I was stuck in that intersection, you know.

"All of a sudden it came to me,

as I went into a dream.

"Somebody spoke to me.

'All right, all right, all right', I said."

So people think God spoke to him.

You think God spoke to him?

You think God sits around writing songs?

I am The Walrus.

God's just the middleman.

Is fictional good for you?

I'm sorry, because I'm just trying to make...

...an impression, and maybe

even a good impression.

And I didn't know that...

Maybe you didn't remember me.

I remember everything.

Everything?

Everything.

That's a lot.

I wouldn't recommend it.

- OK, OK, come.

- Huh? Do you believe this guy?

Doesn't seem to be anyone around,

does there?

Nothing that my unlimited

credit card won't fix.

Come on, come on.

You're from the future, aren't you?

- Yes.

- Yes!

What's that like? And how, how is it?

- The future?

- Yes.

- It's better.

- Oh, good. Good. Good. Good.

That's all Izzy's poems.

You know, familiarity breeds contempt.

- Oh?

- That makes you a suspect.

Me, a what?

That's the tar. The tar.

What, what is...

That's Geronimo's. It goes there.

- What is a...

- Suspect?

Well, that's somebody

who kills somebody,

until, of course,

he can prove that he didn't.

Suspect.

- Thank you!

- No, a simple "thanks" is ample.

Wait. Say it one, one more time,

when you...

- Suspect.

- Suspect.

- One more time!

- Suspect.

I don't know if my son

was killed to get at me,

but I know that his death has

great entertainment potential.

He came from money and power,

lived with bums and Indians,

died mysteriously.

Easy headlines:

"Far from the golden gates of Bel Air".

It'll be a circus

unless we find his murderer fast,

which is why Senator Cole brought you in.

He called you

"the heat-seeking missile".

- Mr Goldkiss, if your son was murdered...

- "If"? Of course he was murdered.

- How's that?

- Suicide is the lowest crime to a Jew.

We don't have suicide.

We never needed it.

Hardly ever.

Sir, you may have heard that I work suspects

as if they were all guilty.

In some way they all are.

That's just my style.

You want a frame-up?

Get the CIA.

You wanna stick with me,

you're gonna get the truth.

My people decide the truth in 60 countries

every morning. And in every one it's different.

The truth is the explanation

that most people want to buy.

And what my rivals want to buy

is any piece of sh*t they can get

to flush me down the toilet.

They won't find it before I do.

Information, that's my game.

This is Hollywood, my boy.

They invented the game.

They don't need much here.

One ounce of sh*t, they make a sh*t souffl.

Well, thanks for the advice.

I better get cracking.

- Work fast.

- I need to. I wanna see my fiance this weekend.

You have a fiance?

Eloise moved like a shadow.

You could almost

see right through her.

It was like, in the day,

she lived in her body, but...

...at night she left it...

...for others.

I always wanted to protect her,

but Izzy said:

"Don't worry, no one can hurt her.

She's not even there."

I'll have it all figured out before I leave.

Facts, evidence, whatever you need.

Prosecution, persecution, souffls...

out of my line.

OK. All right. I like your style.

Just tread carefully.

I don't want more trouble.

Television!

Oh, baby, baby.

Oh, baby, baby, baby. Oh, baby!

So what usually happens

with a murder down here?

Use the toilet on the second floor.

Usually, they remove the body.

- Joey, where's the f***in' hot water?

- It will be on in two hours.

- OK, you ready?

- Ready.

- So, Geronimo. That's your name, right?

- TV, Tom Tom!

I have a few questions about Israel Goldkiss.

- You must've known him for a long time.

- Jean Swift.

- The world is dying to know.

- Take a look. Look at this.

As far as you know, he's had

no contact with his father at all?

No.

Are you sure that his father

was this big, rich... ?

Izzy talked like he was educated

or something, but he lived like a bum!

It magnifies everything.

He shouldn't be making big gestures.

You know, it looks like

he's got ants in his pants.

- Excuse me.

- What's behind all this black, this dark... ?

What is this stuff, anyway?

- That's tar - tar paintings.

- Tar?

Did you hear what she said before?

Izzy's father is a billionaire media king.

This is the way it is.

It's about all of the lives, the cultures,

the moments, that are buried in the pavement.

Lost forever, without a trace... like Izzy.

Geronimo spoke of the Californian golden boy

who rejected his father's privileged life

to capture the lost souls

of the ghetto on canvas.

- They're mine!

- Look, Geronimo, your paintings's on TV.

No!

God is white!

- God is white!

- He's gotta be white.

- Do you think he cares about the Indians?

- No!

First the cavalries, then the reservations,

now the paintings.

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