- Seven –
- Neighbors heard them screaming at each other, like, for 2 hours. Nothing new. Then they heard
the gun go off, both barrels. Crime of passion.
- Yeah.
- Just look at all the passion on that wall.
- Yeah, well, it’s a done deal, all but the paperwork.
- The kid see it?
- What?
- The kid.
- What kind of fucking question is that? We are all going to be real glad when we get rid of you,
Somerset. It’s always these questions with you. “Did the kid see it?” Who gives a fuck? He’s dead.
His wife killed him. Anything else, it has nothing to do with us.
- Detective Somerset? I’m Detective Mills. Lieutenant, I apologize for interrupting, but I just get in
town 20 minutes ago, they dump me here.
- Look, Mills? I thought we might find a bar someplace.
- I’d like to get to the precinct, if it’s all the same. Not much time for this transition thing.
- I meant to ask you something when we spoke on the phone before.
- Yep.
- Why here?
- I don’t follow.
- Well, all this effort to get transferred. It’s the first question that popped into my head.
- I guess the same reasons as you, the same reasons you had before you decided to quit, yeah?
- You just met me.
- Maybe I’m not understanding the question.
- It’s very simple. You actually fought to get reassigned here. I’ve just never seen it done that way
before.
- I thought I could do some good. It would be great for me if we didn’t start out kicking each other in
the balls. But you’re calling the shots, lieutenant.
- Yes. I want you to look, and I want you to listen, ok?
- I wasn’t guarding the Taco Bell. I’ve worked Homicide 5 years.
- Not here.
- I understand that.
- Over the next 7 days, detective, you’ll do me the favor of remembering that.
- Hello? Yep. Ok. Say it again?
- I thought we moved here to get away from tractor pulls.
- Serpico’s got to go.
- Yeah. Well… you might want to get rid of this little crusty… this eye, Serpico.
- Did you get it?
- Got it.
- Good. Coffee? No?
- Nothing’s been touched. Everything’s like I found it.
- What time was death established?
- Like I said, I didn’t touch anything, but he’s got his face in a plate of spaghetti for about 45
minutes now.
- Wait a minute. No one bothers with vital signs?
- Did I stutter? This guy ain’t breathing unless he started breathing spaghetti sauce.
- So that’s how it's done around here?
- I beg your pardon, detective, this guy’s sitting in a pile of his own piss and shit. If he wasn’t dead,
he would have stood up by now.
- All right, thank you, officer.
- Thank you.
- I wonder… What exactly was the point of the conversation you were about to get into?
- Don’t know. How many times has Barney Fife found dead bodies that weren’t dead?
- Drop it.
- Somebody phone Guinness. I think we’ve got a record here. Better Homes and Gardens. Who
said this was murder?
- No one.
- The guy’s heart has got to be the size of a canned ham. If this isn't a coronary… Well, I don't
know. Whoops. How about that? We had this case once.. guy dead on the ground, knife in his
back. Got to be murder, right? Fuck. Anyway, big insurance policy involved, yeah? The guy took
the tip of the blade, stuck it in his own shoulder blades. Must’ve screwed up a few times. There
was multiples.
- Could you please be quiet?
- Wait a minute.
- What?
- Got a bucket here.
- What’s in there?
- Oh, God. Fucking vomit.
- Any blood in it?
- I didn’t see any. Help yourself. Are you thinking it’s poison?
- Oh, wonderful. Very moody.
- Are you thinking it’s poison, Somerset?
- You girls have got Forensics waiting outside. I don’t know if we’ll all fit, though.
- There’s room. Light’s the problem. Hi, how are ya?
- Detective Mills, would you go help the officers question the neighbors?
- What?
- Send in Forensics on your way out, please.
- He’s dead.
- Thank you, doctor.
- You’ve seen my files, right? You’ve seen the things I’ve done.
- No.
- Well, I did my time walking the beat. I did that shit for a long time.
- And?
- My badge says detective, the same as yours.
- Look, I made a decision. I had to consider the integrity of the scene. Couldn’t worry whether you
thought you were getting enough time on the playing field.
- Hey, man… just don’t jerk me off. That's all I ask. Don’t jerk me off.
- He’s been dead a long time, and I can tell you it was not a poison.
- Oh, man. How does someone let themselves go like that?
- It took 4 orderlies just to get him on the table.
- But how’d the fat fuck ever fit out his front door?
- Please. It’s obvious he was a shut-in.
- Now look at this. See how big this stomach is? And the strange thing is it stretches. Here. Look at
the size of the cardiac orifice where the food..
- I see, but that means nothing to me.
- He’s got lines of distension across the duodenum, and the interior wall is ripped open.
- This man ate till he burst?
- He didn’t really burst, not all the way, but he was haemorhaging internally. There was a
haematoma in the rectus.
- So he did die by eating.
- Yes and no.
- What about these bruises up here?
- I haven’t figured that out yet.
- Gun pressed against his head?
- Pressed hard enough, sure.
- Fuck, yeah. The marks from the front side flush with the muzzle. Ladies and gentlemen, we have
ourselves a homicide.
- Killer put a bucket beneath him, kept on serving. Took his time, too. Coroner said this could’ve
gone on more than 12 hours. Victim’s throat was swollen, probably from the effort, and there was
definitely a point when he passed out. The killer kicked him, and he burst.
- Sadistic fucker, huh?
- When you want somebody dead, you drive by and shoot them. You don’t risk the time it takes to
do this, unless the act itself has meaning.
- Come on. Someone had a problem with the fat boy and decided to torture him. Simples as that.
- In the grocery bags, we found receipts. That means the killer stopped in the middle and made a
second trip to the supermarket.
- So?
- Hey, man.. it’s his thing. I’ve been out in the rain all day.
- This is beginning.
- We’ve got one dead guy, not 3.
- No motive.
- Don’t even start your big brain cooking on this, all right? Please.
- I’d like to be reassigned.
- What? Whoa.
- What in the hell are you talking about?
- This can’t be my last duty. It’s just gonna go on and on.
- You’re retiring. 6 more days and you’re all the way gone. Won’t be the first time you’ve left
unfinished business.
- Those cases were taken as close to conclusion as possible, and if I may speak freely….
- We’re all friends here.
- This should not be his first assignment.
- Come on. I knew it. This is not my first assignment, dick.
- It’s too soon for him.
- I’m right here. You can say that shit to my face.
- It’s too soon for him.
- Captain, if we can just talk in private. This isn’t working. It’s a personal thing.
- Shut up, Mills. Look. I don’t have anyone else to put on this. This is Metro. You don’t get to swap.
- Give it to me.
- Say what?
- He doesn’t want it, fuck him. Sorry. See you later. Have a nice time. Give it to me.
- No. I’m putting you on something else. Go on, Mills. Just go on. I’m sorry, old buddy, but it looks
like you’re stuck cleaning up the fat man.
- All right. Here we go. Quiet down. All right. Calm down. Calm down. Quiet down. Calm down.
Quiet down. Now, here’s how it’s gonna be… I’ll answer questions for 10 minutes only. If those
questions do not come in a calm, sane, and orderly fashion, I’m on my way out of here.
- Detective? Detective? Can I have a moment of your time?
- I will not discuss the details of this ongoing investigation so don’t even bother asking.
- What have you guys got for me?
- Nothing yet, boss.
- Why don’t you guys go get a coffee, ok?
- We have this breaking story for you. We’re going to go live downtown where defense attorney Eli
Gould was found murdered this morning. District Attorney Martin Talbot is taking questions from
reporters.
- A conflict of interest between your office…
- That is ridiculous to the point of being offensive. There is no conflict whatsoever, and any claim
there could be is irresponsible.
- Is it true you’re far from apprehending a suspect?
- I’ve come from a meeting of law enforcement officials, and they’ve assured me they have their
very best men on this. This will be the very definition of swift justice.
- Pardon me, George. Somerset.
- Come in.
- Have you heard the news?
- No, haven’t heard.
- Eli Gould was found murdered this morning. Someone broke into his law firm and bled him to
death, wrote the word “Greed” on the floor.
- Greed?
- Yeah. In blood. Mills is heading up the investigation.
- Excuse me. Excuse me. Could you not do that, please?
- Oh, ok.
- Well, good for him.
- What in the hell are you gonna do with yourself out there, Somerset?
- Oh, I’ll work, maybe on a farm, fix my house.
- Don’t you feel that feeling? You’re not gonna be a cop anymore.
- That’s the whole idea.
- I don’t think you’re leaving. Hell, you can’t leave all this.
- A guy’s out walking his dog, gets attacked. His watch is taken, his wallet. While he’s lying there
on the sidewalk helpless, his attacker stabs him in both eyes. This happened just last night about 4
blocks from here.
- Yeah, I read about it.
- I don’t understand this place any longer.
- It’s the way it’s always been.
- Maybe you’re right.
- You do this work, you were made for it, and I don’t think you can deny that. Maybe I’m wrong. Oh,
the coroner sent this down for you. Found them in the fat boy’s stomach mixed in with the food.
Looks like plastic.
- Set them on the desk, please.
- They were… they were fed to him.
- Oh, Lord. This was found on the wall behind the refrigerator at the obesity murder scene.
- “Long is the way and hard that out of Hell leads up to Light.”
- It’s from Milton. Paradise Lost.
- All right. I’m confused.
- It means that this is beginning. This was found behind the same refrigerator, written in grease.
There are 7 Deadly Sins, captain… Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Pride, Lust… and Envy. Seven.
- Hold on. This is not even my desk.
- You can expect 5 more of these.
- No wait a minute.
- I can’t get involved in this.
- Somerset.
- He wanted it.
- I’m all over it.
- Where you headed?
- Far away from here. Thanks, George. How you doing?
- ok.
- I’ve got a few things to look up.
- Ok. Sit where you’d like.
- How’s everybody?
- Hi there.
- Come on, George. Your cards are getting cold.
- Duty call. Gentlemen, gentlemen. I'll never understand. All these books… a world of knowledge at
your fingertips. What do you do? You play poker all night.
- Hey, we got culture.
- Yeah. We got culture coming out our ass.
- All right.
- How’s this for culture? Yo, Smiley. You really gonna miss us.
- I just might.
- Fucking Dante. Goddamned poetry-rhyming faggot piece of shit. Fucker. Yeah. Yeah? Good
work, officer. Thank you, Lord.
- Oh. Sorry. Be out of your way in a second.
- You want your chair?
- No. You go right ahead.
- Yeah? Phoen.
- It’s a package deal. It comes with the office.
- Mills. Are you ok? Is something wrong? You dingleberry. I told you not to call me at work. Yeah.
Why? Why? Ok. It’s my wife.
- Sorry?
- She’d like to speak to you.
- This is Detective Somerset. Well.. it’s nice to talk to you, too. I appreciate the offer, but… Well, in
that case, I’d be delighted. Yes, thank you very much. Bye.
- Hon, what… Well?
- Sorry?
- Well?
- I’ve been invited to a late supper at your apartment. I accepted.
- My… how’s that?
- Tonight.
- Hello, men.
- Hi, loser.
- Hi, idiot.
- This is Trace. Tracy, Somerset.
- Hello.
- Happy to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Except, of course, your first name.
- It’s William.
- It’s a good name, William. William, I’d like you to meet David. David, this is William.
- All right. I’ll be right back. How are the kids?
- Good. They’re in their room. Come on in.
- Oh, good dogs. Oh, good dogs. How are you?
- Smells good.
- What?
- The…
- Oh, yeah. I mean thank you. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?
- No. No, thanks. I’ll wait.
- Just throw that anywhere. Excuse all this mess. We’re still unpacking.
- I understand you two were high-school sweethearts.
- Pretty hokey, huh? I knew on our first date that this was the guy I was gonna marry.
- Really?
- He was the funniest guy I’d ever met.
- Really? Well, it’s kind of rare nowadays, you know… I mean, that level of commitment. Oh, don’t
worry. I won’t wear it to the dinner table.
- I… No matter how often I see guns, I just… I can’t get used to them.
- Same here.
- Why aren’t you married, William?
- Oh, Trace. What the hell?
- I was close once. Just didn’t happen.
- It surprise me. It really does.
- Well, anyone who spends a significant amount of time with me finds me disagreeable. Just ask
your husband.
- Very true. Very, very true.
- So how long have you lived here?
- Too long. How do you like it here?
- You know, takes time to settle in. It’ll be good.
- You get numb after a while. There are things to any city…
- The subway.
- It’ll go away in a minute.
- It’s nothing. That real-estate guy. Fucking piece of… Sorry, hon. Shows us the place a few times.
I think it’s good. Trace likes it. Then I start wondering why he only brings us here 5 minutes at a
time.
- We found out the first night.
- The soothing, relaxing, vibrating home, huh? I’m sorry.
- Yeah, all right, laugh it up. I don’t know what you’re laughing at.
- All right already. The guy had to get into the building before the office closed and security
tightened. Gould would have been working late.
- I’m certain. He was the biggest defense lawyer in town. Infamous, really.
- The body was found Tuesday morning. The office was closed on Monday. Which means, the guy
would have gotten in on Friday, laid low till the cleaning crew left, and had his way all day
Saturday, Sunday, maybe till Monday. Look at this. Gould was bound, his right arm free. He was
handed a butcher’s knife. Check out the scale.
- A pound of flesh?
- Yeah.
- “One pound of flesh, No more, no less. No cartilage, no bone, but only flesh.” Merchant of Venice.
- Didn’t see it.
- “His task done, then he would go free.”
- That chair was soaked with sweat.
- Of course. The killer would have wanted Gould to take his time, to sit and decide which cut to
make first. Imagine it… there’s a gun in your face. Which part of your body is expendable?
- How about the love handle? Cut along the side of his own stomach.
- All right, let’s take a fresh look at these. Even though the corpse is there, look through it. Edit out
the initial shock. The trick is to find one item, one detail, and focus on it until it’s an exhausted
possibility.
- I’m gonna get another beer. Beer?
- Wine, please. He’s preaching. He’s punishing. The sins were used in medieval sermons. There
were 7 Cardinal Virtues and 7 Deadly Sins used as teaching tools.
- Yeah. Like in The Parson’s Tale. And what’s his… Oh, Dante.
- You read them.
- Yeah. Well, parts. Hey, remember in Purgatory, Dante and his buddy, they’re climbing up the hill,
checking out all the sinners, yeah?
- Yeah. The 7 Terraces of Purgation.
- Yeah. Yeah. Right, but there, pride comes first, not gluttony.
- Well, for now, let’s consider that the books were the inspiration. The sermons were about
atonement for sin. These murders are like forced attrition.
- Forced what?
- Attrition. It’s when you regret your sins but not because you love God.
- Oh, like because someone’s sticking a fucking gun in your face.
- No fingerprints.
- Nope.
- Totally unrelated victims.
- Yup.
- And no witnesses of any kind.
- Which I don’t get because the fucker had to get back out.
- Well, in any major city, minding your own business is a science. First thing they teach women in
rape prevention is never cry for help. Always yell “Fire.” Nobody answers to “Help.” You holler
“Fire,” they come running.
- That’s fucked up.
- Must have left another puzzle piece.
- You know what? Thank you for talking this out, but I got to sleep, walk the dogs.
- This is to satisfy my curiosity. I’m still leaving at the end of the week.
- Oh, shit. Wait, wait. Gould’s wife, she was out of town at that time, except this means she saw
something.
- What if it’s a threat?
- I put her in a safe house. She wasn’t happy about it.
- What if it isn’t something she has seen but something she’s supposed to see but hasn’t been
given a chance?
- Yeah, ok. What?
- I don't know. But that’s the one thing.
- Sign us in. We’ve got to see Mrs. Gould.
- We want you to have a phone line, but…
- Mrs. Gould?
- Mrs. Gould, I am sorry. I truly am.
- I don’t understand.
- I need you to look at each photo very carefully. Look and see if there’s anything strange or out of
place, anything at all.
- I don’t see anything.
- You sure?
- Please. I can’t do this right now.
- ok.
- It’s got to be now. There may be something we haven’t seen.
- Wait.
- What?
- Here. This painting, it’s upside down.
- You sure your men didn’t move this?
- No, no, no. Those shots were taken before Forensics. Nothing.
- There’s go to be something. Moved the screws to rehang it.
- Yep. What the fuck is that?
- Switchblade.
- Goddamn it.
- Must be something.
- He didn’t pain the fucking thing. Now he’s fucking with us. That’s what he’s doing. See this? This
is us. Yeah.
- Just wait a minute.
- Now Somerset’s climbing on the furniture.
- Just wait a minute.
- You’re kidding me.
- Call the print lab.
- Oh, man.
- Honestly, have you ever seen anything like this?
- No.
- I can tell you guys just by looking at the swirl pattern, they’re not the victim’s fingerprints.
- I don’t know, man. I’d say he’s whacked enough.
- Doesn’t fit. He doesn’t want us to help him stop.
- Who knows? Freaks out there doing evil deeds they don’t want to do. “Voices made me do it. My
dog made me do it. Jodie Foster told me to do it.”
- I’ve seen this take 3 days to make a match, so maybe you guys want to cross your fingers
somewhere else.
- You meant what you said to Mrs. Gould, didn’t you, about catching this guy? I wish I still thought
the way you do.
- Why don’t you tell me what the hell it is you think we’re doing?
- Picking up the pieces. We’re collecting all the evidence, taking all the pictures and samples,
writing everything down, noting the time things happen.
- That’s all?
- That’s all. Putting everything into neat little piles and filing it away on the off chance it will ever be
needed in the courtroom. Picking up diamonds on a deserted island, saving them in case we get
rescued.
- Bullshit.
- Even the most promising clues usually only lead to others. So many corpses roll away
unrevenged.
- Don’t try to tell me you didn’t get that rush tonight. I saw you. We’re getting somewhere.
- Wake up, glimmer twins. You’ve got a winner. This guy goes by the name of Victor. His real
name is Theodore Allen. His prints were found by Homicide. He’s got a long history of serious
mental illness. His parents gave him a strict Southern Baptist upbringing, but somewhere along the
line, they fell short. Victor dabbled in drugs, armed robbery, assault, spent some time in prison here
for attempted rape of a minor, but his lawyer saw to it that didn’t last long. His lawyer is Eli Gould,
the Greed murder victim. We're gonna finish this thing up today. Victor’s been out of circulation, but
there’s still a residence in his name.
- You’re not buying all this, are you?
- Doesn’t seem like our guy.
- You tell me.
- Our killer seems to have more purpose.
- You ever take a bullet?
- Never in my 34 years, knock wood. I’ve only taken my gun out 3 times with the intention of using
it. Never pulled the trigger. Not once. You?
- Yeah, but… No, I never took a bullet, but I pulled my gun once, shot it once.
- Really?
- It was my first one of these. Secondary unit. I was pretty shaky going in. I was a rookie then.
Anyway, we bust open the door looking for this junkie, and the fucker opened fire at us. One cop
got hit in the arm. Christ, what was his name? Spun him like a top. You know? I mean more like
slow motion. I remember… riding in that ambulance. Well, he died right there. Right there. Christ,
what was his fucking name?
- SWAT goes before dicks. Here.
- They love this.
- Police.
- Clear.
- Clear.
- Good morning, sweetheart. Get up now, motherfucker. Now. Get up, you sack of shit. Oh, fuck
me. Dicks. You want to come take a look at this. Dicks.
- Jesus. Victor?
- That’s just Victor. Call an ambulance. A hearse would be more like it.
- Get your people out of here. Get your people out of here. No one touches anything.
- Some kind of freaking wax sculpture or something.
- Sloth.
- Oh, man. Goddamn.
- This picture was dated 3 days ago. This must be the first one. Look. It’s dated exactly one year
ago today.
- I got a hair sample, a stool sample, I got piss, I got fingernails. He’s laughing at us.
- You got what you deserved. He’s alive. He’s alive. The cocksucker’s alive.
- Calm down. Emergency on that ambulance. He’s playing games.
- No shit.
- We have to divorce ourselves from emotion. No matter how hard it is, we have to remain focused
on the details.
- Man, I feed off my emotions. How’s that?
- Are you listening to me?
- Yes, I can hear you.
- Excuse me.
- Hey, what are you doing? Closed crime scene. Get the fuck out of here.
- Hey, I got a right to be here.
- Get out of here, piece of shit.
- Hey, I got a right to be here.
- Get out of here.
- Fucking jerk. I got your picture, man.
- Oh, yeah?
- I got your picture.
- Oh, yeah? Detective Mills. MILLS. Fuck off. Fuck you. How do they get here so fucking quick?
- They pay police for the information and pay well.
- Hey, man, I’m sorry. Well, he pissed me off.
- It’s ok. It’s impressive to see a man feeding off his emotions.
- A year of immobility seems about right judging by the deterioration of the muscles in the spine.
Blood tests how many drugs in his system, even an antibiotic which must have been administered
to keep bedsores from infecting.
- Has he tried to speak or communicate in any way?
- Even if his brain were not mush, which it is, he chewed off his own tongue long ago.
- Doctor. Is there absolutely no chance that he might survive?
- Detective, he’d die of shock right now if you shined a flashlight in his eyes. He’s experienced
about as much pain and suffering as anyone I’ve encountered, give or take, and he still has Hell to
look forward to. Good night.
- Yeah.
- Hello, William? It’s Tracy.
- Tracy? Is everything all right?
- Yeah. Yes, everything’s fine.
- Where’s David?
- He’s just in the other room. He’s in the shower. I’m sorry to call you like this.
- Oh, it’s all right. What can I do for you, Tracy?
- I… I need someone to talk to. Do you think you could meet me… somewhere maybe tomorrow
morning?
- I don’t understand.
- I feel stupid calling, but… you’re the only person that I know here. There’s no one else. If you can,
just give me a call, ok? I have to go now. Good night.
- Good night. It can be a hard place.
- I don’t know why I asked you to come.
- Why don’t you talk to him about it? Tell him how you feel.
- I can’t.. you know, I can’t to be burden… especially now. I’ll get used to things. You know, I think I
just wanted to talk to someone who’s lived here for a long time. I mean, upstate, you know, it’s a
completely different… environment.
- Really.
- Did David tell you that I teach fifth grade? Well, I did.
- He mentioned it.
- I’m going around, you know, looking at schools, but the conditions here… are horrible.
- What about private schools?
- I don’t know.
- Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, Tracy?
- David and I are gonna have a baby.
- Oh, Tracy… I don’t think I’m the one talk to about this.
- I hate this city.
- I had a relationship once. It was very much like a marriage. We got pregnant. This was a long
time ago. I remember getting up one morning and going to work, just another day like any other
except it was the first day after I knew about the pregnancy. And I felt this fear for the first time
ever. I remember thinking, how can I bring a child into a world like this? How can a person grow up
with all this around them? I told her I didn’t want to have it… and over the next few weeks, I wore
her down.
- I wanna have children.
- I can tell you now… I’m… I know.. I mean… I’m positive I made the right decision, but there’s not
a day that passes that I don’t wish that I’d made a different choice. If you don’t keep… the baby… I
mean, if that’s your decision, don’t ever tell him you were pregnant. But if you choose to have this
baby, you spoil that kid every chance you get. That’s about all the advice I can give you, Tracy. I
got to go.
- William. Thank you.
- Victor’s landlord said there was cash in the office mailbox the first of every month. “ I never heard
a single complaint from the tenant in apartment 306, and nobody ever complained about him. He
was the best tenant I’ve ever had.”
- Yeah, a landlord’s dream… a paralysed tenant with no tongue.
- Who pays the rent on time.
- I’m sick of all this waiting.
- This is the job.
- Why aren’t we out there? Why do we sit here rotting, waiting till the lunatic does it again?
- That’s dismissive to call him a lunatic. Don’t make that mistake.
- Come on. He’s insane. Look. Right now, he’s probably dancing around in his grandma’s panties,
yeah, rubbing himself in peanut butter. How’s that?
- I don’t think so.
- Yeah, his luck will run out.
- He’s not depending on luck. We walked into that apartment exactly one year after he tied Victor to
the bed. He wanted us to.
- You don’t know that for sure.
- Oh, yes, we do. This note he left, his first words to us. “Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell
leads up to light.”
- Fuck him. So what?
- He’s right so far. Imagine the will it takes to keep a man bound for a full year, to sever his hand
and use it to plant fingerprints, to insert tubes into his genitals. This guy’s methodical, exacting, and
worst of all, patient.
- He’s a nut-bag. Just because the fucker’s got a library card, doesn’t make him Yoda.
- How much money you got?
- I got like, 50… 50 bucks.
- I propose a field trip. Come on. We'll make a list. At the top we’ll put Purgatory, Canterbury Tales,
anything relating to the 7 Deadly Sins. Ask yourself, what would he study to do the things he’s
done? What are his interests now? Jack the Ripper, for instance.
- Where are we going?
- The library.
- Coupons. Coupons. Free coupons. Discount coupons.
- They must have had about 50 health violations during their last inspection.
- Could you at least sit across from me? I don’t want people thinking we’re dating.
- Give me your money.
- I’m giving you this, but I ought to know what we’re doing. Fuck.
- Hey, Somerset. How are you doing?
- ok.
- I didn’t expect a ménage a trois.
- It’s not a problem. Sit down.
- Only for you do I do this. It’s a big risk. We’re just fair and square.
- It’s a deal.
- All right. About an hour.
- Yeah, help yourself. Well, that was money well spent.
- Yeah. All right. By telling you this, I’m trusting you more than most people.
- Good, because I’m about ready to punch you.
- It’s probably nothing but it’s no skin off our teeth. The guy in the pizza parlor is a friend from the
bureau.
- Who? Stinky man?
- For years, the FBI has been hooked into the library system, keeping records.
- Assessing files.
- No, monitoring reading habits. Look. Certain books are flagged… books on, say, nuclear
weapons or Mein Kampf. Anyone who checks out a flagged book has his library records fed into
FBI computers.
- Wait. How is this legal?
- Legal, illegal… these terms don’t apply. You can’t use the information directly. It’s just a useful
guide. It might sound silly, but you can’t get a library card without an ID and a phone bill.
- So they run a list.
- Precisely. If you wanna know who’s reading Purgatory and Paradise Lost and Helter Skelter, the
FBI’s computers will tell us. Could give us a name.
- It could get a college kid writing a term paper on 20th-Century crime.
- At least you’re out of the office. Get a haircut.
- How do you know all this?
- I don’t. Nether do you.
- Exactly.
- The Divine Comedy, The History of Catholicism. There’s a book called Murderers and Madmen.
- Modern Homicide Investigation, In Cold Blood, Of Human Bondage. Bondage?
- Not what you’re thinking.
- ok. The Marquis de Sharday.
- It’s the Marquis de Sade.
- Whatever. The writings of Saint Thomas Aqua-something.
- Saint Thomas Aquinas. There it is. He wrote about the 7 Deadly Sins. Is that it?
- Yeah.
- Let’s try it.
- Jonathan Doe?
- Whatever. We’re sure about that name?
- Yeah. You saw the list. John Doe. Wanna go back? I’ll go back.
- Let’s take a look at him. Talk to him.
- This is crazy.
- We’ll just talk to him.
- Excuse me, sir? Are you, by any chance, a serial killer? Ok.
- You do the talking. Put that silver tongue to work.
- Have you been talking to my wife? This is retarded. Charlie’s fucking Angels. Name off a
computer.
- Mills.
- You’re hit?
- No.
- He’s going down. He’s going down. Fifth floor.
- Mills.
- Mommy. Mommy.
- Police. Is there a back exit? Lock your door.
- What’s going on?
- Get out of the fucking hall, please. Get down. Get the fuck down. Shit.
- Hey, shut the fuck up.
- Goddam it. Fuck. Get out of the fucking way. Move.
- Mills.
- No.
- Mills? Mills. Are you ok?
- I’m all right. I’m all right.
- Where are you going?
- I’m going in.
- Wait, wait, wait. Wait.
- What are you talking about? He fucking shot at us.
- We can’t go in.
- What do you mean, we can’t?
- We need a warrant.
- We got probable cause. Come on.
- Think about it. How did we get here? I can’t tell anyone about this.
- Come on.
- I can’t tell about the bureau. We have no reason to be here. Listen to me. Listen to me.
- Get the fuck off me.
- I’m sorry, but just pay attention for a minute. If we leave a hole like this, we can’t prosecute. The
guy will walk. Is that what you want?
- By the time we get the warrant… Nah, fuck that. No.
- We need a reason to knock on this door. Think about it. Ok?
- ok. Ok, you’re right. I’m all fucked up. You’re right. You’re right. Well. No point in arguing
anymore…. Unless you can fix that.
- You stupid son of a….
- How much money we got left?
- So, yeah, like, I noticed this guy going out a lot when the murders was happening, and so I…
- You called Detective Somerset, right?
- Right, so I called the detective because he looked creepy and shit. And one of the murders
happened right over there.
- ok, ok, ok. I told you the rest. You got it? You good? You gotta sign it.
- ok.
- ok? Good, good, good.
- All right.
- You did good.
- I did what you said.
- Here you go. You get something to eat. All right? You eat.
- Everybody stay outside. Victor.
- Fuck. Somerset. Somerset.
- Yeah. What?
- We had him.
- What are you talking about?
- It was the fucking photographer on the fucking stairs. We had him, and we let him go.
- You’re sure this is him?
- Yeah. Good, good. Yeah. Good.
- We’ve got nothing to go on. No address books. Just this receipts.
- The keep looking.
- Let me show you something. This was under the bed… his only source of funds.
- We got his money. Fucking-A, good work.
- One more thing and you’re probably not gonna believe. We haven’t found a fingerprint, not one.
- You’re right. I don’t believe you. Keep looking.
- We could use some more men here.
- I’m doing the best I can. What’s all this?
- There are 2000 notebooks on these shelves. Each notebooks contains about 250 pages.
- Forget it. Anything about the killings?
- “What sick, ridiculous, puppets we are. What a gross little stage we dance on. What fun we have
dancing, fucking, not a care in the world, not knowing that we are nothing. We are not what was
intended. “ No, wait. There’s a lot more. “On the subway today, a man came up to me started a
conversation with me. He made small talk, a lonely man talking about the weather and other things.
I tried to be pleasant and accommodating, but my head began to hurt from his banality. I almost
didn’t notice it had happened, but I suddenly threw up all over him. He was not pleased, and I
couldn’t stop laughing.” No dates. Placed on the shelves in no discernible order. Just his mind
poured out on paper.
- Looks like a life’s work.
- Even if we have 50 men reading 24 hour shift, it still takes 2 months.
- I know, I know, I know.
- Where’s that phone?
- Phone? Phone? Phone? People, quiet. Hello?
- I admire you. I don’t know how you found me, but imagine my surprise. I respect you law
enforcement agents more every day.
- Well, I appreciate that… John. I tell you….
- No, you listen. I’ll be readjusting my schedule in light of today’s little…setback. I just had to call
and express my admiration. I’m sorry I had to hurt one of you, but I didn’t really have a choice, did
I? Will you accept my apology? I would like to say more, but I don’t wanna ruin the surprise.
- I’ll be readjusting my schedule in light of today’s little… setback.
- Got it. All right, everybody back to work.
- You were right. He’s preaching.
- Yeah. These murders are his sermons to us.
- Look, we know him. We know him, we know him. Who’s the blonde?
- Looks like a pro.
- Maybe. She caught John Doe’s eye.
- He collected it last night.
- Last night? This man?
- Yeah. John Doe. Easy name to remember. He had a limp.
- What was the job you did for him?
- I’ve got a picture. One sweet piece, actually. I thought he was one of them performance artists,
the sort of guy that pisses in a cap on-stage and then drinks it. Performance art. I think I
undercharged him, actually.
- You made this for him?
- I’ve made weirder shit than that. So what?
- They found the blonde.
- The picture. The picture. Fucking pigs.
- Get the fuck out of the booth, pal.
- I’ve been in this cage the whole time, ok?
- Come on. This way.
- Can you do something about this music?
- We’re working on it. We’re looking for the guy.
- You from Homicide? You better see this.
- Stay still, all right?
- God, get this thing off of me. Get this thing off of me.
- Get him out of here now. Get him out of here now. Come on. I wanna hear it again. Tell me
again. You heard nothing strange? You saw nothing strange?
- No.
- He asked if I was married, and I could see he had a gun.
- Where was the girl?
- The what? What?
- The girl. The prostitute. Where was she?
- Someone comes to your establishment, they wanna go downstairs to get a little ooh-la-la,
whatever, they got to come to you, yeah?
- Yeah.
- You didn’t see anyone with a package, a knapsack, something under their arm?
- Hey, everybody that comes in there has got a package under their arms. Some guys are carrying
suitcases full of stuff.
- She was just.. she was just sitting on the bed.
- Who tied her down, you or him?
- Do you like what you do for a living?
- No. No, I don’t. But that’s life, isn’t it?
- He… he had a gun, and.. and he made it happen. He made me do it. He.. he put that thing on
me. Then he made me ware it. Then he… told me to fuck her. And I did. I fucked her. Oh, God. Oh,
God. He had a gun in my mouth. The fucking gun was in my throat. Fuck. Oh, God. God, God, help
me. God, help me. Please, please help me.
- This isn’t gonna have a happy ending.
- Hey, man. We catch him, I’ll be happy enough.
- If we catch John Doe, and he turns out to be Satan himself, that might live up to our expectations,
but he’s not the devil. He’s just a man.
- You know, you bitch and you complain and tell me these things and… if you think you’re
preparing me a hard time, thank you but…
- But you gotta be a hero. You wanna be a champion. What if I tell you people don’t want a
champion? They wanna eat cheeseburgers, play lotto, and watch television.
- How did you get like this? I wanna know.
- Well… It wasn’t one thing, I can tell you that.
- Go on.
- I just don’t think I can continue to live in a place that embraces and nurtures apathy as if it was a
virtue.
- You’re no different, no better.
- I didn’t say I was. I’m not. Hell, I sympathize. I sympathize completely. Apathy is a solution. I
mean, it’s easier to lose yourself in drugs than it is to cope with life. Easier to steal what you want
than earn it. It’s easier to beat a child than raise it. Hell, love costs, takes effort, work.
- We are talking about people who are mentally ill, we are talking about people who are fucking
crazies.
- No, we’re not.
- Yes, today.
- No, we’re talking about everyday life here. You can’t afford to be this naïve.
- Fuck off. Gee. You should listen to yourself. You say, “The problem with people is that they don't
care, so I don’t care about people.” That makes no sense. You know why?
- You care?
- Damn right.
- And you’re gonna make a difference.
- Whatever. The point is, is that I don’t think you’re quitting because you believe these things you
say. I think you wanna believe them because you’re quitting. You want me to agree with you and
you want me to say, “Yeah, you’re right. It’s all fucked up. It’s a fucking mess. We should all go live
in a fucking log cabin.” But I won’t. I won’t say that. I don’t agree with you. I do not. I can’t. I’m
gonna go home. Thank you, though. I love you honey, so much. So much.
- I know.
- 911. What’s your emergency? Could you repeat that?
- I’ve gone and done it again.
- What have you got?
- Sleeping spills, glued to one hand. Telephone glued to the other.
- You see what he did?
- He sliced her up… then he bandaged her.
- Call for help, and you’ll live but you’ll be disfigured, or you can put yourself out of your own
misery.
- Come on.
- Cut off her nose.
- To spite her face.
- He did it very recently.
- Listen, I’ve decided to stay on till this is done. I think one of two things will happen. Either we’ll get
John Doe, or he’ll finish his series of 7 and this case will go on for years.
- You don’t have to do me any favors. Thank you, but…
- Keep me as your partner a few more days. You’ll be doing me a favor.
- You knew I’d say yes. Hey, we’re here.
- Your wife called. Get yourself an answering machine.
- Detective.
- After this, I’m gone.
- Detective.
- No big surprise.
- Detective. You’re looking for me.
- Hey. Don’t fucking move. On the floor.
- Keep away from him.
- On the fucking floor.
- I know you.
- Now. Get down. Get down on your stomach. You piece of shit. Now. All the way. All the way,
fucker. Down. Faster, faster, faster, fucker. Now. Nose on the ground.
- Jesus Christ. What the fuck is this?
- I’d like to speak to my lawyer, please.
- Goddamn it.
- He cuts the skin off his fingers. That’s why we couldn’t find one usable print in his apartment.
Looks like he’s been doing it for quite some time.
- What about the trace on his bank accounts?
- So far everything’s a dead end. No credit history, no employment records. His bank account’s
only 5 years old. It was started with cash. We’re even trying to trace his furniture. The only thing we
know about that guy right now is he’s independently wealthy, well-educated, and totally insane.
- He’s John Doe by choice.
- When do we question him?
- You don’t. He’s going to court now.
- There’s no way he would just turn himself in. It doesn’t make any sense.
- It’s not supposed to make any sense.
- He’s not finished.
- No, he’s just pissing in our faces. And we’re taking it like idiots. You know what I’m talking about.
- For the first time ever, you and I are in total agreement. He wouldn’t just stop.
- So what the fuck, man?
- He’s 2 murders away from completing his masterpiece. We’ll wait for his plea.
- My client says there are 2 more bodies. 2 more victims hidden away. He will take Detecives Mills
and Somerset to the bodies, but only Detectives Mills and Somerset, only at 6:00 today.
- Why us?
- He says he admires you.
- It’s part of the game.
- My client claims that if the detectives do not accept this offer, these bodies will never be found.
- Frankly, counsel, I’m inclined to let them rot.
- Hey, we’ve got him downstairs, locked up, done deal. He’ll get room and board, he’s gonna get
free cable TV. Hell, my wife doesn’t even have cable.
- Mills.
- Hey, something stinks. And this one here… Yeah, you, in your $3000 suit and that smug smile on
your face, dealing for that piece of shit…
- Mills.
- I am required by law to serve my clients.
- Jesus Christ.
- And their best interests.
- We don’t make deals here.
- My client says if you do not accept, he will plead insanity across the board.
- Let him try it. I’d like to see him try.
- Come on now. We all know the extreme nature of these crimes, I could get him off with such a
plea.
- I’m not letting this conversation slide. I can tell you that.
- He says that if you do accept, under his specific conditions, he will sign a full confession, plead
guilty right now.
- It’s your case. Make a decision.
- Full confession. I’m in.
- It has to be the both of you.
- If he were to claim insanity, this conversation is admissible, the fact that he’s blackmailing us with
his plea.
- And my client reminds you, two more are dead. The press would have a field day and find out if
the police didn’t seem too concerned about finding them.
- If there are two more dead.
- The lab report came. They did a quickie on Doe’s clothing and fingernails. They found blood from
Doe slicing his fingers, blood from the woman whose face he cut off, and blood from a third party,
as yet unidentified. You’d be escorting an unarmed man.
- Let’s finish it.
- If John Doe’s head opens and a UFO flies out, I want you to have expected it.
- I will. Hey, man, if I was to accidentally shave off a nipple, would it be covered by workman’s
comp?
- I suppose so. If you were man enough to actually file a claim, I’d buy you one out of my own
pocket.
- I keep coming home late, my wife’s gonna think something’s up. You know…
- Yeah. What?
- Let’s go.
- Spin it around.
- Late model black sedan at 10 oclock.
- Who are you, John? Who are you really?
- What do you mean?
- At this stage, what harm can it do to tell us about yourself?
- Doesn’t matter. Who I am means absolutely nothing. You need to stay on your left up here.
- So where are we heading?
- You’ll see.
- We're not just going to pick up 2 more dead bodies, are we, John? That wouldn’t be shocking
enough. We've got newspapers to think about, yeah?
- Wanting people to listen, you can’t just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them
wit ha sledge hammer. Then you’ll notice you’ve got their strict attention.
- But the question is, what makes you so special that people should listen?
- I’m not special. I’ve never been exceptional. This is, though… what I’m doing. My work.
- Your work, John?
- Yes.
- See? I don’t see anything special about it, John.
- That’s not true.
- No, it is true, and the funny thing is, all this work, 2 months from now, no one’s gonna care, no
one’s gonna give a shit, no one’s gonna remember.
- You can’t see the whole complete act yet, but when this is done, when it’s finished, it’s going to
be… People will barely be able to comprehend, but they won’t be able to deny.
- Could the freak be any more vague? I mean, as far as master plans go…
- I can’t wait for you to see. I really can’t. It’s really going to be something.
- I’m gonna be standing right next to you so when this big thing happens, you be sure let me know.
Cause I wouldn’t wanna miss it.
- Oh, don’t worry. You won’t. You won’t miss a thing.
- Roger. Going south. Keep 2 miles separation.
- What’s so exciting?
- It’s not too far now.
- I’ve been trying to figure something in my head. Maybe you can help me out, yeah? When a
person is insane, as you clearly are, do you know that you’re insane? Maybe you’re just sitting
around, reading Guns & Ammo, masturbating in your own faeces, do you stop and go, “wow, it is
amazing how fucking crazy I really am?” Yeah? Do you guys do that?
- It’s more comfortable for you to label me insane.
- It’s very comfortable.
- It’s not something I would expect you to accept, but I did not choose. I was chosen.
- Whatever.
- I don’t doubt that you believe that, John, but seems to me you’re overlooking a glaring
contradiction.
- Meaning what?
- Glad you asked. If you were chosen… that is, by a higher power… and if your hand was forced,
seems strange to me that you would get such enjoyment out of it. You enjoyed torturing those
people. Just doesn't seem in keeping with martyrdom, does it?
- John?
- I doubt I enjoyed it any more than Detective Mills would enjoy time alone with me in a room
without windows. Isn’t that true? How happy would it make you to hurt me with impunity?
- That hurts my feelings. I would never….
- You wouldn’t only because there’s consequences. It’s in those eyes of yours, though. Nothing
wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work. I won’t deny my own personal desire to turn each sin
against the sinner.
- Wait a minute. I thought all you did was kill innocent people.
- Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny? An obese man, a disgusting man who could barely stand
up. A man if you saw on the street, you’d point out to friends so they could join you in mocking him.
A man if you saw him while you were eating, you wouldn’t be able to finish your meal. After him, I
picked the lawyer, and you both must have secretly been thanking me for that one. This is a man
who dedicated his life to making money by lying with every breath that he could muster to keeping
murderers and rapists on the streets.
- Murderers.
- A woman.
- Murderers, John, like yourself.
- A woman so ugly on the inside that she couldn’t bear to go on living if she couldn’t be beautiful on
the outside. A drug-dealing pederast, actually. And let’s not forget the disease-spreading whore.
Only in a world this shitty could you even try to say these were innocent people and keep a straight
face. But that’s the point. We see a deadly sin on every street corner, in every home, and we
tolerate it. We tolerate it because it’s common, it’s… it’s trivial. We tolerate it morning, noon, and
night. Well, not anymore. I’m setting the example, and what I’ve done is gonna be puzzled over
and studied… and followed… forever.
- Yeah. Delusions of grandeur.
- You should be thanking me.
- Why is that, John?
- Because you’re going to be remembered after this. Realize, detective, the only reason that I’m
here right now is that I wanted to be.
- No. No. We would have got you eventually.
- Oh, really? So, what were you doing? Biding your time, toying with me? Allowing five innocent
people to die until you felt like springing your trap? Tell me. What was the indisputable evidence
you were going to use on me right before I walked up to you and put my hands in the air?
- John, calm down. I seem to remember I knocking on your door.
- Oh, that’s right. And I seem to remember breaking your face. You’re only alive because I didn’t
kill you.
- ok. Sit back.
- I spared you.
- Sit back.
- Remember that every time you look in the mirror at that face of yours for the rest of your life, or
should I say, for the rest of what life I’ve allowed you to have.
- Sit back. Sit back, you fucking freak. Shut your fucking mouth. You’re no messiah. You’re a movie
of the week. You’re a fucking T-shirt, at best.
- Don’t ask me to pity those people. I don’t morn them any more than the thousands that died at
Sodom and Gomorrah.
- Is that to say what you were doing was God’s good work?
- The Lord works in mysterious ways. Do you see those high-tension towers? That’s where we’re
heading.
- I see where he’s talking about. Follow the access road.
- Your signal’s breaking up.
- Un-fucking-avoidable, sir. We're in powerline city. Deal with it.
- There sure as shit is no ambush out here. No fucking nothing out here.
- Can’t land anywhere near those wires.
- They’re coming up behind us in about 2 minutes. I want you to go up, way up. 30 seconds, back
east. On my mark. 30 seconds.
- I’m getting him out.
- We’ve got you in sight.
- Get out. Slowly. Stop. Stay. What do you got?
- Dead dog.
- I didn’t do that. What time is it?
- Why?
- I’d like to know.
- 7:01.
- It’s close.
- Well, let’s go take a look.
- It’s this way.
- Bird two, close your distance.
- They’re moving away form the car.
- Mills.
- Down. Down. Down.
- Watch him.
- There he goes. It’s good we have some time to talk.
- Stay on the guy in red. Do not take the cross hairs off the guy in red.
- There’s a van coming down the road from the north. Be ready for anything now. Wait for my
signal. Wait for me. Get out of the van. Out.
- Jesus Christ, man. Don't shoot me.
- Step away. Turn around. Put your hands on your head.
- What the hell is going on?
- What are you doing here?
- I’m just delivering a package, man. I got this package for this guy David, Detective David Mills.
- Get it… slowly.
- He’s opening the back of the van.
- We’ve got him in sight.
- This guy paid me 500 bucks to bring it out here, man. He said he wanted it here at exactly 7:00.
- Put it down. We got a box.
- We got a box. Call the bomb squad. We got a box.
- Face the van. Hands up. Turn around. Ok. Go. Off you go. Go. I’m sending the driver out on foot.
He’s headed north along the road. Have him picked up. I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m gonna
open it.
- When I said I admired you, I meant what I said.
- There’s blood.
- You’ve made quite a life for yourself, detective. You should be very proud.
- Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit.
- California, stay away from here. Stay away from here. Don’t come in here. Whatever you hear,
stay away. John Doe has the upper hand. Mills.
- Here he comes.
- Throw your gun down.
- What?
- I wish I could have lived like you did.
- Shut up. What the fuck you talking about?
- Do you hear me, detective? I’m trying to tell you how much I admire you and your pretty wife.
-What?
- Tracy.
- What you fucking say?
- It’s disturbing how easily a member of the press can purchase information from the men in your
precinct.
- What the fuck?
- Throw your gun down.
- I visited your home this morning after you’d left. I tried to play husband. I tried to taste the life of a
simple man.
- Throw it away.
- It didn’t work out… so I took a souvenir… her pretty head.
- Mills.
- What the fuck’s he talking about?
- Give me the gun.
- What’s going on over there?
- Put the gun… put the gun down.
- What was in the box?
- Because I envy your normal life.
- Put the gun down.
- It seems that envy is my sin.
- Oh, what’s in the box? What’s in the fucking box?
- He just told you.
- You lie. You’re a fucking liar. Shut up.
- That’s what he wants. He wants you to shoot him.
- No. No. You tell me… you tell me that it’s not true.
- Become vengeance, David.
- Oh, shut up. She’s all right. You tell me.
- Become… wrath.
- Tell me she’s all right.
- If you murder a suspect, David…
- No. No.
- She begged for her life, detective.
- Shut up.
- She begged for her life.
- Shut up.
- And life of the baby inside…
- Shut up.
- Oh, he didn’t know.
- Give me the gun, David. David. If you kill him… he will win.
- Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh.
- Oh, fuck. He shot him.
- Set it down somewhere. Come on. Set us down. Holy Christ, somebody call somebody. Call
somebody.
- Well, we’ll take care of him.
- Whatever he needs.
- Where are you gonna be?
- Around. I’ll be around.
- Ernest Hemingway once wrote, “The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.” I agree with the
second part.