Ticker Page #11

---

Reilly exits the bathroom, returns to the dining room where

the Bomb Squad is laughing, hoeing and haying over dessert.

Pooch's faithful wife, MEG, pours coffee. TOMMY and JANIE,

Pooch's kids, sit on Pooch's and T.J.'s knees, in their

pajamas.

MEG:

More coffee, T.J.?

T.J.

No thanks, Meg. Hawed Pooch ever get so

lucky?

MEG:

Mr. Reilly?

REILLY:

Mike. No thanks, I'm fine.

POOCH:

Time for bed, kiddos. Say goodnight.

TOMMY:

Can Uncle Teej tuck us in?

T.J.

C'mon, champ, I'll even give you

a piggyback.

JANIE:

(to Glass, Reilly)

Goodnight Uncle Charlie, goodnight Uncle Mike.

Janie surprises Reilly with a shy kiss, scurries upstairs

with after Pooch, T.J. and Tommy.

REILLY:

`Night...

Meg clears the dishes, Schnoz is asleep on the floor. Glass

and Reilly are left alone. Reilly takes a sip of coffee,

hand trembles ever so slightly.

GLASS:

How long were you hooked?

REILLY:

What?

GLASS:

You don't have to talk about it.

Reilly stares, then opens up slowly.

REILLY:

Pittsburgh, two years ago. Partner died, no

back-up, I was too gung-ho. As usual.

GLASS:

Take a tip from the Bomb Boys, always assess,

if only for a second.

REILLY:

I know. I was working a drug ring, deep

cover. Played the part too well. When they

pulled me out, I wasn't a cop anymore. My

fiance had dumped me. Next thing I knew, I

was out here on the street, doped up,

auditioning for the morgue when this tough old

vice cop found me, cleaned me up, gave me a

second chance. He promised Captain Winters

he'd look out for me.

GLASS:

Your partner?

REILLY:

(nods sadly)

I guess I didn't realize how much I needed

him. He kept me straight. It's been tough

every second since.

Reilly holds up his wristwatch.

REILLY (cont.)

This was his. Doesn't work for sh*t, but it's

keeping me straight.

GLASS:

Let me see.

Reilly gives him the watch. Glass pulls out a mini tool kit,

pries off the back of the watch examines the works.

GLASS (cont.)

Main spring's stuck. All you have to do is

free the palate and realign the balance wheel.

Here, you try.

REILLY:

I terrible with mechanical things.

GLASS:

No you're not, you just don't understand them.

Here, do what I tell you.

He holds out the mini-kit. Reilly takes it uncertainly, but

follows Glass' instructions.

GLASS (cont.)

Okay, first push the pin back with this.

Good. Now while you keep it there, stick this

in here and turn it slowly. Easy, that's it.

Now let the pin go and line up the wheel.

That should do it.

Reilly gives it a tweak, looks at the watch, surprised.

REILLY:

It's working.

GLASS:

Congratulations, you just built your

first ticker.

Reilly throws Glass a surprised look.

EXT. POOCH'S HOUSE - EARLY MORNING

Sunrise breaking. Reilly and Glass have their heads under

the hood of the Studebaker, covered in grease, tools

everywhere. T.J. sits behind the wheel. Pooch and Schnoz

stumble out of the house to watch.

REILLY:

Okay, hit it.

T.J. guns the engine, the Studebaker purrs like a tiger.

GLASS:

Alright!

T.J.

We've created a monster.

Glass glances at Pooch.

GLASS:

Any word?

POOCH:

Nothing. Maybe they gave up, split town.

REILLY:

Don't bet on it.

EXT. POLICE STATION - MORNING

Bustling activity...

INT. THE CAVE - MORNING

Reilly enters to find Glass, Bev, T.J. and Pooch busy at work

at each of their work stations. Glass moves over to watch

Bev's computer screen.

REILLY:

How's the print coming?

BEV:

One partial from the handle matches the

suspect from last night. Name's Carl Taylor.

Long record of arson, assault, the works. The

other print - we got nothing from our data

base or the FBI or CIA... still waiting for

Interpol.

REILLY:

Damn.

Bev enters another command... the computer goes to work as

she turns to Reilly.

BEV:

Coffee, Mike?

REILLY:

No thanks, Bev.

She smiles warmly. He smiles back, T.J. eyes them, slightly

jealous of the moment.

A phone rings. Bev answers it...

BEV:

Yes, sir. He's here. I'll tell him.

Bev hangs up the phone.

BEV (cont.)

Mike, Captain wants to see you

right away.

Reilly heads for the door.

INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - MORNING

A strange, uncomfortable silence hangs over the squad room as

Reilly weaves past cops smoking, drinking coffee, waiting.

They all stare at him. Especially Pluchinsky.

INT. WINTERS' OFFICE - MORNING

Reilly walks in. Winters gestures for him to take a seat as

he talks on the phone.

WINTERS:

Yes ... no, of course not but ... yes,

sir, I understand.

Winters hangs up.

WINTERS (cont.)

I got a call from upstairs. They say you

questioned the girl.

REILLY:

Yes, sir.

WINTERS:

She's refused to say a word to anyone. What

made you think you could get her to talk?

REILLY:

I didn't. But I had to try.

WINTER:

Reilly, I think I've shown that I'm a patient

man. Rice was your biggest fan and I've tried

to honor him by giving you some slack. But

you are very close to running out of slack.

REILLY:

Yes, sir.

Winters lets this sink in, then holds up Reilly's report.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes