RADIO: 2:00 in Memphis...
[Radio continues indistinctly]
WOMAN: Ricky? Son? BO Y: What?
WOMAN: Come on back here.
Won't be back till late. I want you in by dark.
Watch out for your little brother, Mark.
RICKY: I can watch out for myself.
MARK: Cannot. Don't worry, I'll take care of him.
RICKY: Why does he have to?
MARK: Because I'm older, stupid.
RICKY: Mom, he called me stupid again.
WOMAN: Y'all hush up.
WOMAN: Don't read any more of them scary comics, Ricky.
RICKY: Whatever. WOMAN: He can't sleep.
WOMAN: I'm gonna miss my bus.
Gonna be late again. I'll get docked for sure.
[Woman slurping]
There's macaroni and cheese in the cabinet, OK?
All right. Got your lunch?
WOMAN: Thank you, baby.
- Keys? - Oh... yeah.
- Exact change for the bus? - Oh, shoot, baby, thank you.
Forget my head if it wasn't screwed on.
WOMAN: Stay out of them woods. MARK: OK, Mom.
WOMAN: You hear me, Mark? Come here, baby.
RICKY: Come on, Mark, give me a cigarette!
MARK: No way! RICKY: Mark, wait!
MARK: Catch me, and I'll give you one.
RICKY: Can't run that fast! MARK: Wuss!
[Laughing]
MARK: Catch me!
RICKY: Wait up, Mark! MARK: Better hurry.
RICKY: We can't go in the woods.
MARK: Go home. I'll smoke them myself.
MARK: Come get me! Come on!
RICKY: Wait up, Mark!
[Boys yelling indistinctly]
Come on, Ricky. Catch me.
RICKY: Come on, give me one! MARK: No way, pal!
RICKY: I'll tell Mom. MARK: Shit, you tattletale!
MARK: You know the deal.
RICKY: If I tell anyone, you'll kick my ass.
MARK: That's right. If you smoke more than one a day...
RICKY: You'll kick my ass again.
MARK: That's right. RICKY: How many do you smoke?
MARK: Only one. I'm smart. RICKY: Will one a day kill me?
MARK: Nah, but more puts you in deep shit.
RICKY: How many does Mom smoke? MARK: Forty.
RICKY: Whoa. What about Dad? MARK: A hundred a day.
RICKY: Is he gonna die soon? MARK: I wish. Sit there.
Don't try to swallow the smoke yet,
'cause I know you're not ready for that.
You'll just choke and puke all over the place.
MARK: Suck a little and blow.
[Coughing]
[Laughing]
Told you not to swallow the smoke.
This is easy.
That's why you look like you're going to puke.
Do not.
- Where's he going? - Shh.
- What's he doing? - Shh.
MAN: Damn... damn...
MAN: Damn!
[Mumbling]
Damn. Goddamn it.
[Closes car trunk]
Son of a bitch!
Jesus Christ, he's trying to kill himself.
How do you know?
I seen it on TV once.
Why does he want to kill himself?
How am I supposed to know, stupid?
Well, let's get the hell out of here.
No. You stay here. If you move, I'll kick your ass.
What are you going to do?
RICKY: Mark. Mark!
[Breathing deeply]
- Come on, Mark, let's go. - We got to make sure he's OK.
- You think he's dead? - Don't know.
Uhh.
[Opens car door]
MAN: Damn!
Nothing works. Nothing works, damn it!
He is crazy as hell.
Aah!
Damn it. Damn it! Damn!
Let's go, Marky. Please.
No, we can't. If he kills himself and we know about it,
we could be in bullshit.
We won't tell no one. Just let him die.
No. We're not leaving till I say.
Let him die!
Mark.
Let him die!
[Gasps]
MAN: You bastard!
You little bastard!
MAN: Get in there. MARK: No!
Get in there! Got you!
MAN: You sit there. Don't you touch that damn door!
Sorry, kid. You had to be a... a cute ass,
had to stick your dirty little nose...
in my business, didn't you?
So I think we should die together.
Just you and me, pal, off to la-la land.
Sweet dreams.
- You want that gun? - No, sir.
- Well, you're looking at it. - I wasn't, sir.
Don't you lie to me!
You lie to me, I'll kill you.
Please don't kill me, sir.
I got my mother and brother to take care of.
I'll give you a choice. I'll blow your brains out...
and end it now...
or we could wait and let the gas do it.
You decide.
[Man laughing]
[Crying]
- What's your name? - Mark. Mark Sway.
Jerome Clifford, attorney at law.
So, since we're both pretty tight right now,
call me Romey.
[Bird chirping]
Shh.
Listen. You hear that bird?
I drove all the way from New Orleans to hear those birds.
Grew up here.
I played in these woods.
Now I'm gonna die here, too.
Why are you doing this?
ROMEY: Because if I don't kill myself, he will.
Who's he?
The Blade. Barry "the Blade" Muldano.
[Chuckles]
Why does this Blade guy want to kill you?
Mmm!
[Laughing]
ROMEY: Because I know...
I know where the proverbial body is buried.
Whose body?
[Crying]
[Romey speaking indistinctly]
ROMEY: My client killed Senator Boyd Boyette and hid the body,
so now my client, he wants to kill me.
ROMEY: You know where the body's buried?
The body is buried. He hid the body...
[Crying]
ROMEY: It's still buried there. Can you believe it?
FBI's dug up half of New Orleans.
They haven't found it.
They're not gonna find it. No way.
ROMEY: Yeah! Oh, yeah, Mark, go for it!
Yeah, Mark, go ahead.
Go ahead, Mark, pull the trigger.
Yeah! Pull the trigger.
Pull the goddamn trigger!
Pull it! Pull the trigger!
Pull it!
Pretty nifty piece, huh? Ha ha! Whoa!
Hell, I don't even know if it works.
ROMEY: Let's see if it works.
Aah!
It works!
- Shit! - It works! Hey, get over here!
- Kid, come back here! - Ricky!
ROMEY: Don't go anywhere! MARK: Ricky, damn you, come on!
ROMEY: Hey, Mark! Son of a bitch!
Hey!
Where are you? Goddamn kid!
Hey!
ROMEY: Mark! Come back here, kid!
Barry the Blade finds out what I told you,
he's going to kill you anyway.
[Fires gun]
ROMEY: You hear me, kid?
ROMEY: Mark! Why, you...
ROMEY: You...
RICKY: Aah! Aah!
- Put my drink on the bill, babe. - All right.
MAN: Come on, dance with me!
I've been waiting a half-hour.
MAN: Where's Romey? The damn Feds are on my ass.
God, Mr. Muldano, I don't know. He hasn't been in here all day.
Now, Claudette, God hates a liar.
That's what my mother always said.
I'm not lying, honest to God.
I haven't seen him. I don't know where he is.
You know, Claudette, you're a very pretty woman.
Well, thank you, Mr. Muldano.
Now, you want to stay pretty, don't you?
Please. I'm just a secretary.
Listen, honest to God, I don't know where he is.
He doesn't always tell me where he's going.
Put your hand in there. Put your hand in here!
- I don't... I don't know. Honest. - Shh.
Put your hand in. Come on, put it in.
CLAUDETTE: Please, I don't know where he is.
MULDANO: Come on.
CLAUDETTE: Aah!
[Claudette whimpering]
CLAUDETTE: Mr. Muldano, I...
You know, I believe you really didn't know where he was.
- Here we go. - Damn!
OFFICER: What's inside here?
- Check the woods. - Here, take a look at this.
- There you go. - Watch yourself.
What's up, kid?
What are you so scared of? Did you have a bad dream?
You're scaring your mamma. Get your thumb out.
Come on, baby.
[Door opens]
Where have you been?
What the hell is wrong with your brother?
What have you done now? What the hell is going on?
- Boy's witnessed a suicide. - He what?
Me and Ricky was just... out in the woods playing.
We seen this guy, and he was dead with a gun in his mouth.
- Oh, my dear God. - I ran home and called 911.
What happened to Ricky?
He just laid on the bed and started sucking his thumb.
This is Sergeant Hardy. We need the paramedics over here now.
This boy needs to be hospitalized.
I don't have health insurance.
HARDY: Saint Peter's will take the indigent cases.
Pack up some few things.
MRS. SWAY: What, like clothes? What?
[Siren]
HARDY: Are you telling the truth about what y'all saw?
Don't you believe me?
Well, I didn't say I didn't believe you.
Just seems strange, that's all.
You call 911, but you wouldn't leave your name.
I was scared. I never saw a dead guy before.
HARDY: Why did you sneak back and hide up in the woods?
I don't know. I just wanted to see, I guess.
Did you talk to the man before he killed himself?
No, I never talked to him.
The name "Jerome Clifford" mean anything to you?
No.
You know, I found some fresh cigarette butts near the body,
same brand as your mom smokes.
Somehow, I can't see you finding the body...
and then deciding to have a cigarette.
Officer, we was just walking through the woods.
We found Romey dead. That's all.
- Who's Romey? - Isn't that the guy's name?
HARDY: I said Jerome Clifford. Whoever heard of the name Romey?
MAN: Hello. I'm Dr. Greenway. Is this your son?
GREENWAY: What's his name? MRS. SWAY: Ricky Sway.
GREENWAY: How long has he been this way?
MRS. SWAY: My boy, Mark, found him.
GREENWAY: You found him, Mark?
MAN ON TV: ...Channel Three report.
WOMAN ON TV: Jerome Clifford, New Orleans attorney,
was found dead in an apparent suicide...
outside Memphis just hours ago.
The famed Mafia lawyer was due to defend...
the alleged Mafia hit man Barry "the Blade" Muldano...
next month in the increasingly notorious case...
of still-missing Louisiana Senator Boyd Boyette,
now presumed dead.
MAN ON TV: It would be tough enough to build...
a case against Muldano without a body,
but surely Clifford's death will mean more delays.
As one source tells me, the plot thickens and sickens...
for U.S. Attorney Roy Foltrigg.
WOMAN ON TV: No body, no case, no conviction.
And that means no front-page pictures...
that Attorney Foltrigg likes so much.
WOMAN ON TV: No CNN interviews, no quick ascent to Capitol Hill.
Sorry, Reverend Roy.
RO Y: I never liked that cow. MAN: We're here, Roy.
Apparently, he first tried a hose attached to the tailpipe.
For some reason, it didn't work... probably too stoned.
Full of downers and a gallon of whiskey.
He swallowed a bullet for dessert.
Single shot to the head. Cheap, snub-nosed.38.
A definite suicide, Roy.
I called Romey two days ago.
I said, "I can pierce client/attorney privilege...
"and put your ass on the stand."
I was bullshitting him, of course,
but I didn't know he'd get so damn nervous...
he'd blow his scalp off.
- He knew where the body is, Joe. - He'll never tell us now.
JOE: Without that body, we got no case.
RO Y: How's the weather in Memphis?
MAN: It's hot, Roy.
Sprite?
[Opens can]
- What happened to your face? - Got in a fight at school.
HARDY: It's summer. There's no school.
- I meant a kid from my school. - Who was the kid?
- Why? - Why? 'Cause I'm a cop.
It's my job to ask questions.
Besides, I think your story's full of holes.
I believe you were in that car before Clifford died.
What does "indigent" mean?
Indigent? That means poor, like you and your mother...
and your little brother.
So you'd better tell the truth, hope it snaps him out of it.
Otherwise, he could lie in some institution...
for dirt-poor crazy people with padded walls and cockroaches...
and chained to some filthy bed with snakes...
Mark? I'm Karen. Will you come with me?
- Bye. - Bye.
GREENWAY: We'll watch him through the night.
MRS. SWAY: What will you do? GREENWAY: Just watch.
GREENWAY: Sometimes, just a good night's sleep,
and the next morning they wake up fine.
GREENWAY: His reflexes are good.
MRS. SWAY: That's good. Mark, honey, Ricky's real sick.
What's the matter with him?
It's called post-traumatic stress syndrome.
Sometimes, a person sees something they can't deal with.
MRS. SWAY: I'm always telling Mark no horror movies,
no scary comics, not for Ricky.
He's always been tender that way.
GREENWAY: Easy now.
MRS. SWAY: I protect him. There's so much bad out there.
GREENWAY: Why don't you get some rest yourself?
There's nothing more you can do. We'll watch him tonight.
This has been a rough day. Just lie down in here.
MAN: That's a bad injury. What happened?
SECOND MAN: Got hit by an oil truck.
Jerk ran a stop sign.
FIRST MAN: My name's Gill Beale. I'm a lawyer.
I specialize in car wrecks, especially large trucks.
Let's see what you got. A broken leg, a concussion,
a couple of busted ribs...
- And a broken collarbone. - Great!
BEALE: I can get you at least 600,000.
Did I say six? Six is just for starters. Check me out.
Call up Gill Beale. You'll see who's for real.
MAN: There's more lawyers here than there are doctors.
BEALE: Now, don't be that way. I'm gonna outrun that buggy.
[Men arguing]
JOE: Wait till you see this guy.
Mr. Foltrigg, Jason McThune, FBI. Welcome to Memphis...
home of the King, city of the good abode.
RO Y: What do you know, McThune?
Kid's name is Mark Sway. He told Memphis P. D...
that he and his brother stumbled on the body,
then turned and ran and called the cops.
- I think he's lying. - Why?
We lifted his prints off a Sprite can.
They match prints that were all over the car.
I think he was in that car with Clifford before he shot himself,
and for quite a while.
JOE: Why would he lie?
One... he's scared. Two... kids always lie.
Adults are the enemy, remember? Three... maybe Romey told him...
something he knows he should not know.
People hate to die with secrets. That's good work, McThune.
Thank you, sir. I'm going to keep it up, believe me.
Listen, I'm sick and tired of chasing Elvis sightings.
- I want to get out of here. - Where do you want to go?
- Anywhere you go, sir. - Got to fix that hair, first.
Meantime, I want to talk to that child.
Yes, sir.
Dr. Greenway wants to see you.
MARK: How old are you? KAREN: Twenty-four. Why?
MARK: Are you married? KAREN: Sometimes.
MRS. SWAY: He looks better to me.
I think we get him into his own bed, he's going to be fine.
I don't know why you can't give him some medicine or something.
Can't you just give him a shot? I got to go to work.
Our trailer park takes rent by the week.
Listen to me.
Right now, it's as if Ricky is in a dark place.
He's trying to find the way out.
What's very important is that when he finds that way out,
the first thing he sees is your face.
Let's hope it will only take a day or two.
There goes another job.
Must be damn near setting some kind of record.
I'll call your employer.
My employer runs a sweatshop. He will not send flowers.
He will not understand.
You could take shifts. Perhaps the father...
Ex-father! And you keep him away from Ricky.
MRS. SWAY: Now, hush! MARK: Damn, Momma, I'm sorry.
[Greenway clears throat]
I... I don't know if you've seen this,
but there are policemen downstairs, and reporters,
and the FBI is coming to interview Mark at 10:00.
Mom, I don't want to talk to them.
I'll wind up like Ricky if they keep bugging me.
They won't go away.
Look, I don't give a flying shit about the FBI.
Boy, you're getting on my last nerve.
Now, would you sit down and hush up?
I don't know what the hell to do.
I feel like I'm losing my mind, telling me to wait...
for my boy to have some crap.
- Mom. - This boy...
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, too.
I'll think of something to get us out of this.
Hey, you and Ricky just found that guy dead.
Right? Come on, now,
there's nothing you ain't telling me, is there?
Dr. Greenway wants to start you on Valium, Mrs. Sway.
MRS. SWAY: Those cost extra? KAREN: Don't worry about that.
KAREN: Take these. MRS. SWAY: Both of them?
KAREN: Both. You'll start feeling a lot better.
MRS. SWAY: Hey, don't go far. MARK: OK, Mom.
FBI, huh? Whoo! I hear they're sending...
the Reverend Roy Foltrigg himself.
That's bad. That's...
You know that the FBI puts kids in jail...
if they break the law,
and if a kid has been involved in a murder,
they got a special little kid-sized electric chair.
I saw it once. It was about so high.
Did you know that when somebody gets electrocuted,
the current is so strong...
it makes the blood in the veins boil?
Bzzzzzt!
God... fry up just like a piece of bacon.
You're the only pig around here.
Oh... we'll see you later, Marcus.
[AII talking at once]
WOMAN: Are you here to question Mark Sway?
RO Y: I beg your pardon?
MAN: Are you here to improve...
your own position regarding the case?
My real interest is to see justice done.
Every one of you knows that.
WOMAN: Are you ever gonna find that body?
RO Y: We'll find it. You can count on it.
[Questioning continues]
[Telephone buzzing]
RECEPTIONIST: You ain't the only one here by yourself.
What do you want?
- I need to see Mr. Beale. - Where are your parents?
- Where are yours? - Are you even injured?
- Do I look injured? - Well, we only do injuries.
Well, I'll just go get hit by a truck and come back.
[Phone buzzing]
RECEPTIONIST: Y'all shut up, too.
- Yes? - Hell, no.
WOMAN: What's wrong with this window? Where are you going?
MAN: I'll get something to eat, then swing by the post office.
WOMAN: All right.
[Banging]
MARK: Hey. When's your boss coming back?
WOMAN: May I help you?
MARK: No. I need to see Reggie Love.
WOMAN: Why, may I ask?
MARK: That's between me and Mr. Love.
- I'm Reggie Love. - A woman lawyer. Oh, great.
Why is it you think you want a lawyer?
I don't want a lawyer. I hate lawyers.
MARK: Every lawyer I ever had just shafted me and my mom.
I said I need a lawyer, but I don't know about no woman.
WOMAN: Well, this lawyer that shafted you... what was her name?
- Wasn't no her. It was a he. - Right.
Well, why is it that you think you need a lawyer?
- Because I'm Mark Sway. - So?
The kid who found the dead guy. I'm famous. Don't you read?
You still haven't answered my question.
Because I'm supposed to talk to some Reverend Roy guy.
- Reverend Roy Foltrigg? - Why's he called that?
He loves to quote scriptures in court,
and he knows the Bible better than God himself.
- Does he win a lot? - Always.
MARK: Why can't everyone just leave me alone?
- Some sweaty fat guy blows... - Why'd you lie to the police?
I didn't.
REGGIE: It says here you found Jerome Clifford dead.
- I did. - Uh-huh.
Dead men don't sweat... now, do they?
If you was my lawyer,
and I told you something, could you ever repeat it?
No. What is it you want to tell me?
Well, that Clifford guy came driving up...
in his big, black car,
and me and Ricky, we snuck up to watch.
And that Clifford guy got out, and he put a gun in his mouth,
and he blew his head out.
So you did see Jerome Clifford alive.
- Yeah. - Why'd you lie to the police?
I don't know. I mean, I was just scared, I guess.
My little brother's in a coma, my mom might lose her job,
the FBI's after me, but I don't know nothin'.
You would lie, too.
REGGIE: Well, you're right. You do need a lawyer, Mark Sway.
There are a few male lawyers down the hall.
You want me to recommend one?
- How many cases have you won? - More than I lost.
- How much do you cost? - How much you got?
9:32. Our boy has arrived.
MAN: Shipment's coming in late. Bobby, check the permits on it?
BOBBY: Yeah. It's in the file drawer.
Thank God your mother... my sister... is dead, Barry.
Having a son this stupid would have killed her for sure.
I told you not to hit Boyette. You did.
I told you not to tell Romey too much. You did.
I hope it hurt that fat bastard.
I hope he felt the top of his head...
pull right off his ugly face!
Two kids found him, Barry,
maybe before he finished the job.
- I know. I seen it on TV. - He might have talked.
Tell me Boyette's body's where the cops can't find it.
- The cops won't find it. - Move the body, Barry.
I will, Uncle Johnny. Only I can't right now.
JOHNNY: Why?
Where it's at... the body...
the cops are swarming all over the place.
Don't worry. They won't find the body.
If that kid knows anything, he's not talking.
Otherwise, I wouldn't be standing here.
I'm going to Memphis and take care of those kids.
JOHNNY: I'll tell you what... you just sit on your dumb ass.
JOHNNY: Gronke. GRONKE: Mm-hmm?
JOHNNY: I want you in Memphis. GRONKE: Uh-huh.
[Knock on door]
MAN: Come.
MAN: Ah, you must be Mark.
Hi, Mark. Jason McThune, Memphis FBI.
This is Larry Trumann from New Orleans FBI.
That's Thomas Fink, Assistant United States Attorney,
and Mr. Foltrigg, United States Attorney,
both from southern Louisiana.
Sit down, son.
- Come on over here. Sit down. - Thanks.
We expected your mother, Mark. Where is she?
She's upstairs with my little brother.
She can't leave in case he wakes up.
MARK: But we could hold this off for a couple of days.
No, Mark! Let's talk a few minutes, just us.
- You nervous? - A little.
[Chuckling]
- Do I need a lawyer? - What for?
MARK: To protect my rights. RO Y: No.
McTHUNE: You've seen too much TV.
TRUMANN: We just want to ask you some questions.
Lawyers just get in the way. They object to everything.
What happens if I don't answer your questions?
We'd take you downtown. Might have to take your mother, too.
My mother get in trouble?
You ever hear of obstruction of justice, Mark?
It's a federal offense.
If a man knows something about a crime...
and withholds information from the FBI or the police,
well, he might be punished... sent to jail or something.
You're saying, if I don't answer your questions,
I could go to jail?
Maybe.
MARK: If y'all was in my place, wouldn't y'all want a lawyer?
Hell, no. They're a pain in the ass.
- Pain in the ass? - Mm-hmm.
But aren't you a lawyer?
MAN: Jerome Clifford wasn't really dead...
when you found him, was he.
MARK: Yes, he was. RO Y: You were in that car.
You see that?
RO Y: You and Romey Clifford had a nice long chat.
Did you talk about life? Did you talk about love?
Y'all talk about where bodies are buried?
- I have to go to the bathroom. - Answer the question first.
- I've got to go bad. Please? - Well, you better go.
Thanks.
[Door closes]
- You don't need no lawyer. - Hell, no!
That boy's ready to tell all. You know where Muldano's at?
- Yeah. - Grab him so he don't skip town.
Don't mark up his face.
We'll do the press conference here, Wally.
Hold on till we grab Muldano.
I want to make sure those affidavits are set.
Did you get my makeup? I'll need pancake number 17.
Doughnuts. Doughnuts. Give me that telephone.
Press loves coffee and doughnuts. See what you can do.
Where will we put me? By the flags?
I look best in front of these glass bricks...
behind a big bank of microphones.
That always looks nice, doesn't it?
[Knock on door]
- Come in, Mark. Polite kid. - Yeah. He's a good boy.
REGGIE: Oh, keep your seats. LARRY: We're in a meeting.
McTHUNE: You're in the wrong room.
I don't think so. My name is Reggie Love, I'm an attorney,
and I represent Mark Sway. May I see some I.D., please?
JOE: When did he hire you?
REGGIE: I don't think that's any of your business, is it?
RO Y: You'll have to forgive us, Miss Love. You're so pretty,
how could anybody mistake you for a lawyer?
Please call me Reggie.
RO Y: Reggie. REGGIE: Roy.
REGGIE: So, uh, did you, in fact... oh, please sit down...
attempt to interrogate my client...
outside the presence of his mother... Jason?
- No. - He tells me you did, Lawrence.
He's confused. We assumed his mother was on her way down.
Where were you during this?
That's not really relevant. Did you advise him...
that he should talk to an attorney, Thomas?
Uh, yes. Remember, Mark said something...
or I did... about TV,
and then Mark said that he might need a lawyer,
and I thought he was just joking.
REGGIE: So he never asked if he needed a lawyer?
I don't remember it that way.
Well, did you advise him of his Miranda rights?
No. Why? He's not a criminal. We just want to ask questions.
So you did try to interrogate him away from his mother.
McTHUNE: No. THOMAS: Definitely not.
No way.
- Bullshit. - Ah. Tread carefully, cherie.
We know your client lied about being in that car.
I think that's a bit of the pot calling the kettle black.
MARK, ON RECORDING: Do I need a lawyer?
McTHUNE: What for? MARK: To protect my rights.
McTHUNE: No. You've watched too much TV.
LARRY: We just want to ask you some questions.
THOMAS: Lawyers just get in the way. They object to everything.
- You wired the kid. - It's nothing personal.
McTHUNE, ON RECORDING: ...your mother, too.
You boys attempted to interrogate a child...
outside the presence of his mother, without her consent.
He asked you if he needed a lawyer,
and you said, "No. Lawyers are a pain in the ass."
REGGIE: I'd like to confer with my client...
and meet with you people in my office tomorrow around 3:00.
If I need anything from you boys... like the truth...
well, I expect to get it.
I catch you lying again, I'm going to use the tape.
- That's blackmail, Ms. Love. - Indict me, Reverend Roy.
[Chuckles]
RO Y: Damn. McTHUNE: Still want doughnuts?
Shut up, McThune. Goddamn.
MRS. SWAY: Want a cigarette? REGGIE: No. I just quit.
MRS. SWAY: There's been a mistake.
We can't afford no lawyer.
REGGIE: Don't worry about it. MRS. SWAY: My boss fired me.
My baby's in a coma, and he fires me.
Don't tell Mark.
REGGIE: Just one day, he fired you? He's a pig. That sucks.
MRS. SWAY: Wasn't much of a job anyways. Five bucks an hour.
REGGIE: How long you been there?
MRS. SWAY: Huh? Oh. Uh, six months.
Lord, I can't keep my head on straight.
REGGIE: You're doing fine.
I like your ring. They real diamonds?
Lord, no. It's semiprecious.
MRS. SWAY: You got kids?
REGGIE: Gosh, you must have been a baby...
when you started having your babies.
I was just a dumb kid, living in a dream.
All's I ever wanted was a white house with a walk-in closet.
Ain't that stupid?
No. Having a dream's never stupid.
I say, take it one day at a time.
[Singing] Da da da da da
Da da da da da
Come on, Ricky. You always laugh at my air guitar.
Who's the best guitarist in the whole world? Who?
Come on, Ricky, say it. Yell it!
MARK: I know.
Look, Ricky... an Eskimo pissing.
Ahh... la la la la la...
Whew! God.
Ricky, look at you.
I shouldn't have made you stay in those woods.
It's my fault.
But things are going to be all right, Ricky. I swear.
I got us a lawyer,
and even though she is a woman, she's pretty darn good.
She only costs a dollar, too.
But that's not it, though.
I'm really sorry.
I'm going to make it up to you. I promise.
[Camera clicks]
Hey! What the hell are you doing?
Hi. Slick Moeller, Memphis Press.
I wrote the story this morning. Say, how's your brother?
MARK: Get out of here! MOELLER: How's your brother?
Just a second, son! I want to ask you some questions.
Did Jerome Clifford touch you anyplace or something like that?
Did he tell you why he was committing suicide? Did he?
- Get out of here! - Did he talk to you?
- Get out! - I'll pay you for an interview.
Cops say you know more than you're telling!
Are you all right?
You understand I can't do it without getting paid.
I got to hang up. I'll talk to you later.
GRONKE: You Nance, the private investigator?
Security specialist. Who's asking?
Name's Gronke. I need some fast work.
- Who referred you? - Sulari. New Orleans.
I get $2,000 cash retainer, nonrefundable,
before I lift a finger.
You like kids?
TV: First thing we'll do is...
...is scheduled to be finished...
REGGIE: Why do you think Foltrigg was so...
Mark, we're almost through. Could you listen up, huh?
[Turns off TV]
REGGIE: Thank you. Why was Foltrigg so convinced...
you were in Clifford's car?
I don't know.
If I'm your attorney, you have to trust me.
I do trust you, Reggie! I swear I wasn't in that car!
You like Led Zeppelin?
- Yeah. You like Led Zeppelin? - Oh, yeah. They were great.
I'll bet you never even heard of Led Zeppelin.
You're probably one of them grownups...
who just say they like really cool bands...
just to get close to little punks like me.
Well, I think we've covered just about everything.
All right, what's your favorite Led Zeppelin song?
Uh, Moby Dick... live version. Bitching drum solo.
I'll pick you up tomorrow about 2:30, OK?
What were the names of the first four albums, Miss Groupie?
You tell Reverend Roy what you told me.
That'll probably be the last we'll hear from him.
OK? Hmm?
What happens if you lie to the FBI?
It's a federal offense. You could go to jail. Why?
You weren't smoking something besides cigarettes, were you?
No, ma'am.
Is there something you're not telling me?
I'm positive I'm not keeping something from you.
- I mean, I was just curious. - OK.
The first Led Zeppelin albums were called I, II, and III.
The fourth, which is untitled, is generally referred to as IV.
See you tomorrow, groupie.
WOMAN ON TV: ...the space people!
They've come back! I knew they would!
Hello, out there. Just be peaceful.
Ah, w-we're friendly. Don't be afraid.
My assistant will now approach you.
Do not hurt him.
NANCE: Want one? MARK: Huh?
Elvis Pezley.
Ha! Elvis Pezley.
I bet it's poisoned.
- She's funny, isn't she? - Yeah.
My boy loves her.
Ahh.
Sorry. My boy was in a car wreck. Drunk driver.
Don't know if he's going to make it. He's only eight.
My brother's only eight, and he's really sick.
- What's wrong with him? - He saw something, is all.
You're not the kids who saw that suicide guy, are you?
- Mm-hmm. - I seen it on TV. Jesus.
That must have been awful. How's your brother doing?
- He just lays there. - Man, oh, man.
- What a scary thing to see. - I wasn't scared.
He must have been crazy to stick a gun in his mouth like that.
NANCE: I mean, why? MARK: Hmm.
Was he acting weird or yelling crazy stuff?
Maybe he said something scary to your little brother.
- That could be. - Well, dude, I got to go.
- Hope your brother gets better. - Yeah.
[Dialing]
[Telephone rings]
MARK: Karen? Where's Karen?
Off duty, hon. Get you anything?
Yeah. You got anything to eat around here?
NURSE: Cafeteria's open. MARK: All right.
- Can I have your autograph? - Sure.
[Elevator bell dings]
[Doors open]
WOMAN: Giving them a vacation package.
Lots of attitude, you know? I want the honeymoon suite.
GRONKE: Everything's going to be fine... just fine.
[Gronke humming]
Now, you listen to me, Mark Sway.
I don't know what Romey told you,
but you repeat a single word to anyone,
including your bitch lawyer, I'll kill you.
You talk to the Feds tomorrow, I'll kill you.
And if you tell anyone about me, I'll kill you slow.
You understand me, little big boy? You understand?
Then we have an understanding. Now, I'll be watching you, boy.
[Door opens]
[Door closes]
CLINT: So everybody knew that Muldano and Boyette...
were in bed together.
REGGIE: Basically, Boyette got himself killed.
He took Mafia money to build a toxic waste dump.
When his constituents got pissed, he voted against it.
- Enter Barry the Blade. - If Foltrigg can prove it.
Why would Foltrigg risk bringing in Muldano...
without Boyette's body?
I think this guy's gonna run for office.
- What are we serving? - It's Thursday.
Southern pecan.
Something wrong? Your brother all right?
I ain't talking to the FBI today, and that's final.
Mark, you have to talk with the FBI.
They could subpoena you.
Foltrigg is going to be here any minute.
I said no. Now, you're my lawyer,
and you have to do what I tell you.
WOMAN: Reverend Roy, I saw you on TV!
- This place is a dump. - You can say that again.
My Lord.
They are coming down the hall.
Make them go away. Please.
All right, stay here. Stay out of sight.
REGGIE: Something's up. I don't get it, but I'll do it.
Good afternoon, Ms. Love. Is young master Sway all ready?
Roy, I'm sorry, but the meeting's been canceled.
Uh, ahem. I beg your pardon?
REGGIE: Let me debrief the child...
and give you a statement in writing.
We both know he doesn't know anything.
We need to talk to this child, Reggie.
We have a set of fingerprints...
put him right inside Jerome Clifford's car.
All right? What are we going to do about that?
- Well, I think, Roy, that... - Shit.
...the question is, how did you match his fingerprints?
We lifted one off a soda at the hospital.
Did you ask either Mark Sway or his mother before doing so?
You invaded the privacy of an 11-year-old child.
WALLY: We were just trying to obtain evidence.
REGGIE: Evidence? So his prints are in the car.
You have no proof that he even interacted with Clifford.
Kid has a bruise on his cheekbone.
We found a spot of blood on Clifford's ring... not his type.
Well, let me guess. Mark Sway's blood type.
That's right.
And how did you obtain Mark Sway's blood type?
From his brother's hospital admission records.
REGGIE: And how did you obtain confidential hospital records?
- Look here... - No, you look here.
You get near my client without my permission,
I'll sue you and the FBI for civil-rights violations.
I'll file an ethics complaint with the state bars,
and I'm going to haul your ass into court.
You're playing big-league hardball here, Ms. Love.
We don't respond to threats. Does Mark Sway's mother know...
you've been institutionalized for drug and alcohol abuse?
Huh?
It was a treatment center. Close the door when you leave.
Reggie.
Listen, you've been practicing law for two years.
You're not equipped to handle this.
We know more about your client's actions than you do.
You're an amateur, Reggie. Your client's in serious peril.
Think that over.
Open that door. Let me talk to him.
- You are so good. - Hmm.
But you're not going to use this child...
to climb into the governor's chair.
You think you look good on TV?
If you try to contact my client or his family again,
I'll put little Mark Sway on the news prime time.
He can tell everybody how you trampled...
the Constitutional rights of a little 11-year-old,
and I got the tape to prove it.
Oh, we'll talk to that boy.
You miss one step, I'll eat you alive, all right?
Jesus Christ.
I'm going to kill that kid.
You been lying to me. Start telling me the truth.
You're the liar! Keep the dollar! You're fired!
What are you talking about? Come back here! Come back!
Mark! Shit! Where are my car keys?
- Where are my keys? - They're in your purse!
REGGIE: Mark!
- Mark, get in the car. Come on. - No!
- Mark, please. - No.
REPORTERS: Hey! Mark!
[Reporters yelling]
Mark, a couple of quick questions!
Kid, how'd you like the story this morning?
REGGIE: Move off.
RO Y: Kid didn't hire a lawyer for his health.
JOE: The Mob knows he knows where the body is.
That's why they flew in Gronke. You got it, Wally?
RO Y: We got to get our hands on that child before the Mob does.
We can petition the juvenile court,
alleging the boy needs supervision.
And protection. Gronke's not here to visit Graceland.
The kid's in danger. It's in his best interest...
to take him into protective custody.
To make him talk...
We allege the kid's breaking the law.
He is breaking the law! He's obstructing justice!
You file those petitions. Incarcerate his ass tonight.
Where are we? You said we was getting rid of the reporters.
See any reporters around? This is my mamma's house.
MARK: You live with your mom? REGGIE: Yeah.
REGGIE: This is Mamma Love. MAMMA LO VE: You must be Mark.
Take me back to the hospital!
Listen, you and I are going to do some talking first.
- Talk, my ass! You're fired! - Fine. You're the boss.
This is kidnapping or something! Take me back right now!
MARK: I'll hitchhike! REGGIE: Go ahead!
[Door closes]
Shoot!
Nice meeting you, Mark.
[Knocking on door]
GRONKE: Who is it? BONO: It's your mother.
Ha ha! Hey, Bono.
How you doing, Paulie?
Guess Johnny means business, bringing you here.
- Where's the kid? - With that bitch lawyer.
- Got a private dick tailing him. - Any sign of the Fibbies?
Yeah, a couple... watching the hospital, same as we are.
You know, I gave that kid a warning last night.
This is the directive. We bug everything...
hospital room, lawyer's office, the works.
Find out what the kid knows.
If that doesn't work, we kill them all.
REGGIE: How's he doing?
MAMMA LO VE: When he gets hungry, he'll come in.
REGGIE: Lucky a car only comes by every four hours.
MAMMA LO VE: That is one willful child, Regina.
REGGIE: Pain in the butt, if you ask me.
MAMMA LO VE: That's the pot calling the kettle black.
Hey, man. How you doing? You remember me?
- You're the kid at the hospital. - Uh-huh.
Hop in. Give you a ride. Come on, now.
What are you doing out here? Come on, hop in.
Hey, you know, my boy's getting much better.
How's your brother doing?
[Footsteps running away]
Come on back here!
- Elvis has left the building. - Told you so.
[Door slams]
MAMMA LO VE: Well, hello there.
- Take me back to the hospital. - Anybody want some lemonade?
REGGIE: I'm not taking you anywhere until we've talked.
MAMMA LO VE: Some pie? MARK: Where's the phone?
- I need to call a cab. - Help yourself.
It's $40 from here, Mamma?
Or 45? I'm not sure. Something with a tip.
Look, you're fired. Get that through your thick head.
Fine. I cannot do my job if you keep hiding things from me.
Do you know how it felt to go in there...
and take on Foltrigg on your behalf without the facts?
I should have smelled your breath.
Then I would have known you was a drunk.
Well, I think I'll be going.
I have been sober for three years.
That's what all the drunks say...
how they're going to get sober and all.
They even say they love you, but they don't.
Then they come home and beat you and your mother so bad...
you got to hit them in the face with a baseball bat.
- Talking about your daddy? - Yeah. Well, I got rid of him.
When me and Mom went into court to buy a divorce,
our lawyer sucked, as usual.
So I went up and told the judge myself about all the beatings,
about how he made us sleep in the street.
And that's when my father became my ex-father.
And now I got you. And you're a drunk and a bad lawyer, too!
Now I'm getting rid of you. You're fired, OK?
I can handle this myself.
REGGIE: Mark. Mark, I used to think...
I could handle everything by myself,
but sometimes being strong means asking for help.
Now, I know you been taking real good care of your family,
but the FBI's not going to leave you alone.
- You got to let me help you. - Let me go. I need a cigarette.
REGGIE: Smoking is terrible for you. Hey, hey, hey.
What did Romey tell you in that car?
Why do I always have to answer questions?
Why don't you ever have to answer any questions?
OK, that's fair enough. Go ahead, ask me something.
- Like what? - Whatever you want.
Go ahead. There's no rules, there's no limits.
- You ask me, and I'll answer. - And you'll tell the truth?
If it takes my skin off.
All right.
What's that thing you always wear around your neck?
This is my mamma's compass.
I wear it so I'll never lose my way again.
- Hmm. - Anything else?
- Yeah. These your kids? - Yes.
They chained down in the basement?
Close. They're with their daddy. We're divorced.
- You ever see them? - They don't want to see me.
'Cause you's a drunk and on drugs.
Because after the divorce, I drank some, yes.
I drank a lot.
Why?
You're right. There must be a cigarette around here someplace.
Well, I married a big Memphis doctor,
and I worked to put him through medical school.
When he became rich, he traded me in for a younger model.