The Sting Page #3

JIMMY:

(worried)

You sure you wanna start off that

big? Bet like that could put a

real dent in us.

HOOKER:

I feel lucky tonight.

JIMMY:

Aw, come on, Hooker, why don't you

just...

HOOKER:

Three grand on the black, Jimmy.

Jimmy wants to argue some more, but the ball is getting

ready to drop into the center. We see Jimmy quickly press a

hidden lever under the table with his foot. The ball falls

and settles into red 27 with a motion that is not quite

right. The others at the table fail to notice, but Hooker

is not fooled. He stares venomously at Jimmy, who knows

that Hooker is on to him.

JIMMY:

Sorry, Hooker.

(making an attempt at

levity, in order to explain)

Good thing that ball came up red.

Guy could get in trouble around

here, losin' a bet that big.

Jimmy reaches for Hooker's money. Hooker stops him by

putting his hand on it.

HOOKER:

Spin it again.

Jimmy doesn't know what the hell to do. He gives Hooker a

little head motion to indicate a small window high up in one

of the walls. Behind it, we see a pair of eyes. Suddenly,

Hooker understands why Jimmy had to cheat him, but it

doesn't change his demand.

HOOKER:

Spin it anyway, Jimmy.

Jimmy is beside himself. If he doesn't spin again, Hooker

may expose him. If he does spin, and loses, his management

will fire him. He pleads to Hooker with his eyes, but it's

no use. Jimmy spins the wheel and reluctantly drops in the

ball. This time there is no foot on the lever, and it

settles into black 15. Hooker stares at the ball a second

and then looks up at his terrified friend.

HOOKER:

Don't worry, pal. I knew it was my

night.

Hooker pushes the money over to Jimmy and walks out of the

room. He's lost $3,000, but he's still working on a lucky

night.

CUT TO:

EXT. GAMBLING JOINT

Hooker and Crystal out on the street.

CRYSTAL:

(irritated)

Thanks for the evening, Hooker. I

can still make the 10 o'clock. If

you wanna spend 50 bucks on me

again, mail it.

She walks off down the street.

HOOKER:

(going into his

pocket for more money)

Hey wait a minute.

(he comes up with 30›)

Aw, the hell with ya.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE WATERFRONT PROCESSING PLANT - LATE AFTERNOON

A late model Ford roars up and screeches to a stop in front

of the plant. Out bursts a carefully-groomed, tight-lipped

young man named Greer, who hustles into the plant. We

follow him through a maze of machinery to the service

elevator and up to the third floor where we find ourselves

in the clearinghouse room we saw earlier.

INT. PLANT - AFTERNOON - LATE

The working day is over now, and everyone has gone, except

for Combs, who sits somberly in his office.

GREER:

They found Mottola. He was drunk

in a dive in Joliet. Never got on

the train.

COMBS:

(aggravated)

I don't wanta hear about his day,

Greer. What happened to the money?

GREER:

He lost it to a coupla con artists

on his way outa the spot.

COMBS:

How much?

GREER:

Twelve thousand.

Combs sits in quiet thought for a second. Finally:

COMBS:

All right. Better get on the phone

to New York. See what the big mick

wants to do about it.

(pause)

I gotta pretty good idea, though.

CUT TO:

INT. AN EXCLUSIVE NEW YORK GAMBLING CLUB - LATE AFTERNOON

An agitated young man, Floyd, weaves his way through the

craps and roulette tables, and hustles up a staircase to a

second floor room with a drawing of a snarling tiger on the

door. Below the tiger, the word "FARO" appears. There is a

large man, of thuggish demeanor, guarding the door, but

Floyd gives him a small hand signal and walks right by him.

CUT TO:

INSIDE THE FARO ROOM

In the center is a beautifully-carved wooden table, on which

sit a faro board and a dealing box, tended by a stone-faced

Dealer, who calls the progress of the game in a continuous

abacus-like device that keeps track of the cards which have

already been played. On the opposite side of the table,

completely absorbed in the rhythmic appearance of the cards

from the dealing box, sits Doyle Lonnegan. Although is

clothes and accessories are those of a wealthy man, there is

a coarseness to both his movement and speech which bespeak

lower class origins, for which he now has nothing but

contempt.

Floyd enters the room and approaches him cautiously, trying

hard to make as little noise as possible.

FLOYD:

Doyle, can I see you a minute?

LONNEGAN:

(not looking up from

the table)

I'm busy, Floyd.

FLOYD:

It's important. We had a little

trouble in Chicago today. One of

our runners got hit for 12 grand.

LONNEGAN:

(calmly)

Which one?

FLOYD:

Mottola.

LONNEGAN:

You sure he didn't just pocket it?

FLOYD:

No, we checked his story with a

tipster. He was cleaned by two

grifters on 47th.

LONNEGAN:

They workin' for anybody?

FLOYD:

I don't know. Could be. We're

runnin' that down now.

LONNEGAN:

All right, mark Mottola up a little

and put him on a bus. Nothin'

fancy, just enough to keep him from

coming back. Get some local people

to take care of the other two.

(impassively)

We gotta discourage this kinda thing.

CUT TO:

INT. AN OLD BROWNSTONE - NIGHT

Hooker, still in his suit, but looking a little worse for

wear, knocks on the door of one of the apartments. A young

black woman, Louise, answers the door, holding a baby.

HOOKER:

Howdy, Louise.

LOUISE:

(admiring Hooker in

his suit)

Goddamn, Johnny Hooker, you're a

sharp hunky in them linens. If you

wasn't so pale, I'da sworn you had

class.

Hooker steps inside and walks right into a big hug from an

older black woman, Alva. Alva has a hat on, obviously just

about to go out. Beyond her we see the Eirie kid and the

Black Man (known from here on as Luther Coleman) playing a

game of mah jong on the dining table with a man whose back

is to us. An 11-year-old boy is listening to the radio.

COLEMAN:

Turn that down, Leroy.

ALVA:

Oh, Johnny, Luther said you was

somethin' to see today.

HOOKER:

I'll never be as good as that mark,

Alva.

ALVA:

Well, we gonna hear all about it

when we get back from church.

Leroy, get your jacket on, boy.

Leroy goes to get his jacket. Louise is finished putting

the baby to bed.

HOOKER:

You goin' to church now?

ALVA:

They been havin' late bingo down

there. I'm gonna call on the Lord

for a little cash, while he's still

payin' off. Luther, you look in on

that child from time to time, will

ya?

Luther nods that he will. Alva, Leroy and Louise leave for

church as Hooker strolls over and tosses two packets on the

table. Luther doesn't pick his up, but the other man does.

We now see that he is the thief in the opening sequence. He

is called the Eirie kid and he is delighted at his share.

EIRIE KID:

Hey, Luther told me he was carrying

a wad, but I didn't figure this much.

HOOKER:

Which way did he do, Eirie?

EIRIE KID:

Straight north. He was gonna take

it all and run.

HOOKER:

(laughs)

The bastard. He can blow his nose

all the way.

They laugh again, but Luther doesn't share their enthusiasm.

He watches Hooker who becomes uncomfortable under his gaze.

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