The Son of No One Page #3

Seems no one's interested

in the possibility...

of police doing anything corrupt,

since this whole 9/11 debacle.

You must feel

like a real reporter then.

We have

a circulation of over 100,000.

You can tell me the last time

that many people...

knew a cop for a good reason?

Look, if you get another letter,

why don't you give us a call?

Officer, you do know

the hero tide will turn?

- My cell is on the back.

- Of course, you know no one...

stays loved

in New York for long.

What do you think?

What do I think?

I think she's a dyke.

Hello?

Milk?

Please, don't hang up.

You know, I would never

do any of that stuff.

Vin, I didn't see

anything anyways.

Do nothing. I swear.

I swear I wasn't gonna do nothing.

He just said,

if I didn't...

he'd tell my mother

to put me back in the hospital.

And if they put me back

in that hospital...

I can't do anything,

if anything happens to you.

I can do nothing.

What are you

talking about, Vin?

You don't think I'm a f*ggot,

Milk, I'm not a f*ggot right?

No.

You're the only f***ing person

in this whole world I can trust.

I hate it.

I hate it here so f***ing much.

I f***ing hate it here.

Me too.

Listen, Milk.

In my mother's

boyfriend's apartment...

he has a thousand dollars.

I saw it, Milk.

A thousand dollars.

That's a lot of money.

I got the key.

I got the key to his apartment.

I can go in.

I can find it, Milk.

I know where it is. I saw it.

I can take it. And, man,

we can get outta here, Milk.

We can get outta here.

Okay.

What's up, Milk?

You kids are cold-blooded.

Killing junkies, partying

and sh*t afterwards.

Vinny up there...

sucking his mama

boyfriend dick.

F*** is that about?

Hanky OD'd in my apartment.

OD'd?

F***er jumped in the bathtub

for one last bath.

Gun went off.

I could see that.

Anyway,

Hanky was a no-good junkie.

Junkie with a $300 tab

and a gun like this.

When I'm putting

the pieces together...

pieces of a f***ing murder.

Somebody, definitely,

killed Hanky...

except me.

I'm not going to the cops.

They could give two shits about me.

I just want the $300

he owed me.

Listen, little man.

I want $300 or I'm gonna go

to the cops with this.

This sh*t still smell

like firecracker.

Get your ass inside.

What's going on?

Johnny?

Sorry I'm late, Ker.

What's going on for real?

What do you mean?

Is there someone else?

Are you kidding me?

I met you when you were

working in a record shop.

You take this ridiculous

police test...

because you're going to be right down

the street. Now you're two hours away...

and you're in no rush

to get home.

It's temporary, Kerr.

Then why are you

getting home so late?

I just can't believe I ended up

at my father's old precinct.

I just can't believe

I ended up there.

I'm sorry.

I keep going by my old address

and I just look at it.

Who's there?

No one.

No one anymore.

White?

White...

I don't need to tell you

like I've been telling Prudenti...

which I'm sure you both

already know this.

But for the sake of clarity...

someone went in and tore the Gazette's

offices to shreds last night...

about 11 p.m.

I know Bridges for 15 years.

She's relentless.

- Listen, Captain...

- No, you listen.

I don't give a sh*t who did this.

You know why?

Because I don't. But what I do

need is you both to go over there...

and tell her

that whoever did this...

is gonna be a top priority

on our list, whatever, anything.

Okay?

And go on.

Ms. Bridges. I'm...

You came to have a good look

at the work you'd done?

I can assure you that we didn't

have anything to do with this.

You know every mafia wannabe

who grew up here became a cop?

Big facades with your hero

If I understood a f***ing

word you just said...

I'm sure I'd have a comeback.

I can have a car come around

maybe a few extra times at night...

Are you sure that wasn't...

your captain's request last night?

F*** her, let's go.

Goddamn frat boy.

Just contact me directly,

if you have any more problems.

I have one.

It'll be the cover of our

next issue. Yeah, really.

You know what

a Mucky Pup is, Officer?

It's the son of a copper.

You? You look like

the son of no one.

But you were the son

of Stanford's old partner.

You have my card.

Did she say

anything else in there?

Just that she won't stop

printing these letters...

and her place got tore up.

Diesel b*tch.

Probably did it herself

looking for a story.

And still no one gives

a f*** out those letters.

Except for us.

Except you.

- You came here with that dog?

- I want him to come with us.

- They won't let him come.

- Who won't?

We don't even know

where we're going.

Just, just tie him up.

Just tie him up.

I just gotta get in this

guy's then we can go.

It's under the couch.

Let's just get it and go.

- You have the key?

- It's, it's right here.

We're just gonna get it

and then go.

In and out.

Just close the door.

Charlie, stay quiet.

Just gotta get it and go.

Keep quiet. Stay quiet.

Shut that dog up!

F*** ya'll doing in here?

- Nothing.

- What you two doing in here?

What's going on in there?

Charlie, stop!

Charlie, stop!

Get this motherf***er. Shut

this dog. You hearing me, man?

- Charlie, stop! Charlie, stop!

- Piece of sh*t!

Stop that!

Charlie...

Charlie?

Vinny!

Sh*t.

Hello?

Sounds like

your baby's crying.

Who is this?

What's the problem?

She doesn't like

her new medication?

Who is this?

When your husband

gets home tonight...

ask him about

two murders in 1986.

It's okay. It's okay.

Here, it's okay.

I'm not...

Keep your feet up.

Precinct 118.

Officer White, please.

Sure. Hold on.

White!

You got a call on line one.

This came for you, too.

Thank you.

Hello?

Jonathan,

I just got a weird call.

What?

It was really f***ed up.

Kerry, I can't hear you.

Is Charlie all right?

Where are you?

I need you to come home.

No, I can't hear you.

I got a really weird call

and I need you.

I'm gonna call you back

from my cell outside.

Jonathan!

What the f*** are you calling?

Are you kidding me?

I'm telling you

need to shut the f*** up...

you f***ing Puerto

Rican piece of sh*t. It's fine.

- I'm Dominican, motherf***er.

- I'm sorry, he's Dominican!

You don't want this, man.

Get the f*** down.

- I don't want this. I don't want this!

- Put it down.

- Put it down, right f***ing now.

- This motherf***er though.

Relax. I swear to God,

I'm gonna put one in your head!

He's calling it like bullshit.

- Just put that gun down. Put it down.

- I don't wanna do this!

I'm gonna put a f***ing

bullet right in your head.

- Relax!

- I don't want this!

- I'm just trying to live.

- Come on.

I don't want this. I don't want this.

I don't want this.

Take him

in the f***ing bathroom!

What the f*** is going on?

Motherf***er took

my f***ing gun!

So what are you're

bringing him to the bathroom?

We are in the f***ing '80s?

Cameras all over

the place here.

What's the matter with you?

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