The Singing Detective Page #5

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Poison ivy...

There are songs to sing.

There are feelings to feel.

There are thoughts to think.

That makes three things.

You can't do three things

at the same time.

...creepin' around...

The singing is easy--

sugar on the tongue.

The thinking

comes with the tune.

So, that

leaves only the feelings,

and you're not going

to catch me

feeling the feeling.

No, sir.

...lf you let her

get under your skin

Poison ivy...

Watch the light, d*ckhead.

...Late at night

while you're sleepin'

Poison ivy

comes a-creepin' around

Measles make you bumpy,

and mumps'll make you lumpy

And chicken pox'll

make you jump and twitch...

The guy's a sitting duck.

But why here?

What's the sense?

J. Edgar H. prefers a

different kind of tune.

What does it matter?

Well, l don't like it.

Stick to Patti Page, eh?

Up there with the lights--

it's the goons.

Watch yourself! Watch!

...The minute

you start to mess around...

How's it going?

Halfway there.

Halfway to a million bucks.

With disdain.

Period.

l have some nice things,

if that's what you mean.

Nice, no.

Expensive, l said.

Tastes differ.

You're more at home in... bars

and sleazy dance halls.

Oh, l...

do the occasional

Rotary dinner,

state prison dance...

where l don't leave my hat.

What?

That's how the cops

got onto you, Binney.

You left your fedora on the bar

when you picked up that whore.

Money.

Money, money, money.

What about it?

You got a lot.

l do all right.

What at, l'm wondering.

l buy, l sell.

Uh-huh. So does

Second Hand Rose.

What do you buy?

What do you sell?

That's my business.

Naked flesh?

What?

Oh, yeah, that's

what you buy,

that's what you sell.

That's ridiculous.

l deal in antiques,

if you must know.

The only antiques are some of

the distinguished gentlemen

you service with

young girls, Binney.

Are you calling me a...?

A pimp? Why, yes, you

don't mind, do you?

You're a fantasist,

Dark.

Get out.

Don't let me see you again.

What about my fee?

Fee? What fee?

lt took me five days

between my syncopations

to figure out that you set up

that poor girl, Nina.

Why? l said to myself, ''Why?''

Just get out.

You know what l think?

l think she was

killed right here

in this museum.

You're crazy.

But it's not the cops

you're scared of, Binney.

They can be bought and sold,

too.

Put it back in the drawer,

will you?

-What?

-Put it back in the drawer,

unless you want a hole

between your eyes

that the wind from your ass

can whistle through.

You really are crazy.

Out of your cheap little mind.

Sure. But do it.

l've been shot at once tonight,

and that's once too often.

Okay, okay.

This Nina-- she wasn't

one of your commodities.

-But her friend was.

-What friend?

That girl they scraped up

under the Hollywood sign.

The cops say she jumped.

But your pals...

What pals?

Your pals thought

she might have passed

something on to Nina,

and they were taking no chances.

Not with her, not with you.

Am l right, or am l right?

And now they want me, too,

you slimy slug.

Go on.

Go on.

l enjoy cheap fiction.

Me? Nah.

l'm no longer in your employ.

Fee? What fee?

You hired me

to find out

what happened to Nina

when you already knew.

Why? l'll figure it out. And...

And?

l sing for people

who dance, Binney.

Name your tune,

l'll warble it for you,

but when you dance...

your feet

won't be touching the floor.

Oh, you're cheap, Dark.

Ten cents a dance.

Mr. Dark?

That's my handle.

l was born at daybreak.

Please, l want to talk.

You followed me

to make sure l wasn't followed,

but l was.

Stay back. Keep

out of sight.

Meet me at The Laguna

in a half an hour.

Little fool.

l warned you.

l told you, baby.

Ah, gee.

Silly... poor little thing.

Parlow.

What?

You mean,

the Parlow Atomic Laboratory...

here in L.A.?

Binney...

Mark Binney.

He's providing all the girls.

Right? Girls like you...

like Nina.

The Reds.

They're getting

to the atomic scientists...

Yes?

At Parlow?

Using sex.

Sex.

Sex.

Sex.

l'll get ya.

Bastards.

Whoever you are,

and whatever you are...

wherever you are.

You're buffeted by this...

by that, and it's nothing

to do with you.

You know,

someone you love dies or leaves.

Then you get ill,

or you get better,

and the whole time, everywhere,

there's just this canopy

stretching out over you...

What canopy?

Fate--things as they are.

lt's irrational,

impersonal.

The rain falls,

the sun shines, the wind blows,

and if you're out there in it,

that's it.

Things.

Accident.

Call it what you like.

There's damn all

you can do about it.

Well, physically,

you're on the up.

Well...

Now we have a firm

grasp of the obvious.

Why do you still feel

so disappointed

in things as they are?

Things as they are...

no concern of mine.

You object to the use

of the word ''things''?

Oh, there's a lot of words

l don't like.

Such as?

Decaffeinated.

Hmm.

Another?

Oh, good, good, good.

lndoor games.

Yeah.

-Word games?

-Yeah, sure.

l throw you a word, you...

l come back with

another word.

Yeah, that you associate

with the word that l...

Okay, wait-wait-wait-wait, yeah,

but we got to... agree...

in advance

that it's meaningless.

Please, there's no diagnostic

value for any of it.

Fine.

Judge.

Oh, skin.

Scales.

Weight.

Tables.

Restaurant.

Gastroenteritis.

Honey.

Comb.

Blonde.

Honey.

Money.

Sh*t.

You.

Me?

Me.

Tarzan.

Jungle.

Manhattan.

-Mugger.

-Baghdad.

Arms.

-Hands.

-Clap.

Promiscuity.

-Free.

-Gift.

Giver.

-Sucker.

-Mouth.

Fangs.

Wolf.

Whistle.

-Scream.

-Silence.

Young.

Green.

Old.

Mm... Mick Jagger.

Rock.

Cradle.

-Crash.

-Dream.

Wake.

Sleep.

Lie.

Tale.

-Writer.

-Liar.

Sentence.

Prison.

Cage.

Barn.

Mother.

M... murder.

Love.

Fraud.

Passion.

Pretense.

Woman.

F***!

F***.

Dirt!

Dirt.

Death!

Start.

Stop!

Oh, nice game.

lt's just words, right?

That's what we agreed.

No diagnostic value.

Just words.

lmportant words

Ooh, ooh, ooh...

That mean a lot

Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh...

They say... say

l love you

Ooh, ooh, ooh...

lmportant words

Ooh, ooh, ooh...

That's all l've got

Ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh...

They say, say

l love you...

l'll do whatever you want...

okay?

You just have

to tell me.

The days, the nights

The hours

We spent makin' plans...

-Love.

-Fraud.

-Passion.

-Pretense.

-Woman.

-F***!

-F***.

-Dirt!

-Dirt.

-Death.

Since we first held hands

lmportant words

Ooh, ooh, ooh...

They say l love you

Mom?

Ooh, ooh, ooh...

Go back to bed.

They say, say

Go.

l do

Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh,

ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh...

Why, Mom, why?

Why what?

Why are we here?

No place else to go.

Did Dad make you go?

-No, Danny.

-Did he?

lt wasn't...

it was no good there.

And l...

l did something wrong.

lt's no good here.

l didn't think it would

be like this, but...

We gotta go back.

No.

Why not?

Why not?

lt won't always be like this.

-Mom...

-No, l want you to listen.

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