L.A. Law (1986) s01e12 Episode Script

1
Previously on L.A.
Law.
Where is my son?
He's been very well cared for.
Thank God.
Where is he?
Go to your mother's home.
Honey?
You look great, Sig.
I feel great.
A couple of weeks in the laughing academy,
a little psychotherapy.
I'm good as new.
I need a big favor, Mike.
I got a case I just can't handle.
I got this woman, bunch of cops,
blow into her apartment, middle of the
night, looking for drugs, and killed her
kid, she shoots back, self-defense,
and wounds one of the cops, they arrest
her for attempted murder, she needs help,
Mike, they shot Sarah, they killed my baby, for.
The record, detective, please state your
name and address, detective sergeant
Horace Flint, 1438 Atwater Street,
Van Nuysen, could you describe the events
leading up to your going to the home of
Nina Emmons on the night of July 3rd?
30th, 1986.
We had a warrant for the arrest of one DeWitt James, whose
last known address was 9220 Chateau Street, apartment 50.
What was the warrant for?
Can you tell us what happened?
Myself, officers Clayton and Todd went to
the door of the apartment, knocked,
and announced ourselves.
There was no response.
We then obtained entry forcibly.
Once inside the apartment, we announced ourselves as
members of the Los Angeles Police Department of Defense.
The perpetrator leveled what appeared to
be a 20-Gauge shotgun at us.
I instructed her to drop her weapon.
She refused.
She then fired, hitting me in the midsection.
My fellow officers returned fire.
When you say you knocked on the door,
what did you say as you knocked?
I said Los Angeles Police Department.
Then, Sergeant, you say you obtained entry forcibly.
How did you do that?
I kicked in the door.
One kick?
One kick.
You must be a strong guy, Sergeant.
Now, what did you see when you came through?
The first room was dark.
Didn't appear to be anyone in it.
We moved into the bedroom, and it was
there that we encountered the perpetrator.
Sergeant, when the perpetrator,
as you called her, leveled what you said
appeared to be a 20-Gauge shotgun at you,
did you at that time produce any badge or I.D.
card identifying yourself as a police officer?
I did that as soon as we entered the apartment.
I thought you said there was no one in the front room.
If there was no one in the front room,
there was no one to display your badge to.
The question is, did you display?
Did you display your badge to Nina Emmons
when you entered her bedroom?
No, I did not.
And why is that, sergeant?
I didn't happen to have a free hand at the moment.
Well, where were your hands, sergeant?
They were wrapped around my gun, counselor.
What about your fellow officers,
Clayton and Todd, sergeant?
Did either of them produce a badge or I.D.
card?
Ask them.
Did you happen to see little Sarah Emmons
sleeping in the bed, sergeant?
Yeah, I saw her.
Did you see her before or after you opened?
Objection.
Assuming fact's not in evidence.
Hey, you think I'm happy that baby died?
The baby didn't die, Sergeant.
The baby was killed.
And you want to know something?
Better her than me.
That's a noble thought.
There's nothing more noble than getting out alive.
Let's stick with the format, shall we, gentlemen?
And I want all this colloquy off the record.
I don't give a damn if it's on or off the record.
You ever go through a door, Mr. Kuzak?
You never went through a door.
You know why you never went through a door?
Because you send me.
My back is screwed up.
I've been shot four different times.
I'm going to be 46 next month.
I feel like I'm 70.
We all have our jobs to do.
Yeah?
Well, let's trade for a while.
You come down here and I'll go up there.
I'll put on the $700 suit, sit at the big
desk and look out the window.
You can strap on the Roscoe and go kicking in doors.
Are you suggesting that you shouldn't be held
accountable for what you do because your work is dangerous?
I'm suggesting that I'd rather be tried by
12 than carried by 6.
And the only thing I regret about the night of
July 30th, 1986, is that she got me before I got her.
Does that mean that I'm not sorry a little girl is dead?
I'm very sorry she's dead.
Do I lose any sleep over it?
No, I do not.
I wish Nina Emmons could say the same.
Let me ask you a question.
What would you have done if it was you
walking into a one-eyed stare?
I don't know.
I've never faced that situation.
Well, face it now.
The.
Impulse at this time of year is to allow
one's professional responsibilities to
take second money to holiday revelry or
holiday despondency or both.
But I would suggest to all of you that in
an office that is both overworked and
understaffed, such indulgence is perilous at best.
In short, the courts stay open for
business, and so must we.
Now, Stanton versus Stanton.
Settling.
Hall versus Stanton.
Hall versus Atwood Wade.
Uh, contract dispute.
Atwood Wade is marketing a self-squeezing
teabag, which my client, Gunther Hall,
claims to have invented.
His employment contract entitles him to share in
the royalties and the licensing arrangements if he did.
Emmons versus City of Los Angeles Police Department.
I have one more deposition to take this afternoon.
People versus Emmons.
Trial set for January 12th.
It's obvious they filed the criminal case as a
bargaining chip against the wrongful death suit.
As that brings us current, a final word as
concerns the upcoming Christmas party.
My suggestion is that we limit the
alcoholic selection to beer and wine,
order a minimal number of plates and cups
with an idea toward reducing consumption,
us with all the cold cuts, coleslaw, and condiments we
require, and which throws in free serving utensils to boot.
Well, that sounds like a truly joyous affair, Douglas.
It sounds like an S.C.
frat party.
Arnold, why don't you oversee the necessary arrangements?
If that's taken care of, I suggest we adjourn.
Hi, Tim.
Hey.
They're late.
It's a ploy.
Don't let it get to you.
I don't think Marina's looking to make a killing.
I think she's just looking to get out.
That's all either of us is looking for.
That generally makes things a lot easier.
I think we just both realize that the
things that make a great marriage are a
little different than the things that make a great weekend.
If we'd stuck to the weekends, we'd been fine.
Known as irreconcilable differences.
Yeah.
That's us, all right.
We don't even fight anymore.
We just change the subject.
About the only thing we have going for us
is a queen-size bed.
Now, you don't have to hear all this.
Hey, if it helps to talk about it.
The thing I don't understand is how sex
could be so good when everything else is so bad.
I mean, Maureen is the most giving woman I
have ever been with in my whole life.
And it's not just that she loves sex.
Although I will tell you, she loves sex.
She just gets off on giving someone else pleasure.
She just loved to make me happy.
Totally spontaneous, you know what I mean?
I don't know why I'm telling you all this.
You don't have to have a reason, Tim.
I'm your lawyer.
I could be driving.
I can't tell you the number of near accidents we had
coming home at night on the Santa Monica freeway.
I started taking Pico, just hit a couple of red lights.
Could be at a movie, at a restaurant.
She just didn't care.
She sounds like quite a special person.
Arnie, they're here.
I don't think we have a problem here, Mr. Becker.
The condo and the timeshare are both community property.
You're not averse to putting the condo on
the market, I take it?
Not at all.
Maureen would like to hold on to the timeshare so she
can buy Tim out from her share of the condo proceeds.
Excuse me, Jeanette.
I'd just like to ask a question here.
Would it be all right if I paid that off in a
few installments instead of all at once?
The reason is I'm trying to fix up a place for myself to
live, and I was hoping to do it out of some of the money.
Jim, it's all right.
As long as it's secured, I don't have a problem with it.
Great.
Now, there's a pair of diamond earrings and a
watch that I would like deemed separate property.
Miss Brower, I've got to tell you,
to me, that opens up a whole can of worms.
We're gonna go back and forth on what's
separate and what's not.
I thought that's what we wanted to avoid.
It's okay.
I want her to have them.
Well, she can still have them, Tim.
I just want to see something on your side
of the table to balance them out.
Tim knows that if he wants something, he can take it.
The truth is, if Jeanette wasn't in the picture, I'd probably
just have packed up a suitcase, and that would be that.
I think Tim will tell you I'm not the calculating type.
Ask for this so you end up with that.
I come in straight.
I don't hold anything back.
And I just assume other people are the same.
Sometimes I'm wrong.
Sometimes I'm not.
How many rounds did you fire, Officer Clayton?
I emptied my chambers.
Which would be six, is that right?
Right.
Did you reload?
Yeah, you always reload after you get off the sixth.
How many times did Nina Emmons fire, Officer Clayton?
I don't know.
I'm not sure.
Well, let me ask you this.
How many spent shells were recovered in the room?
Just one.
I, uh, think just one.
But you had already laid down six rounds, and you
were ready to lay down another six, weren't you, officer?
Look.
I didn't want to shoot at all.
I didn't see any baby in that room.
All I saw was the gun.
I was so afraid of getting shot,
of letting my partners down.
I thought I was aiming low, but the gun kept jumping on me.
I didn't know that baby was there until
the lady started screaming.
The whole thing probably lasted 15 seconds.
Noise, smoke, and then it was over.
The lady's screaming.
And Flint was moaning on the floor.
And me standing there with this damn gun
in my hand, shaking.
I kneeled down and held a compress on Flint.
And all the time I'm looking over at the bed.
And that kid lying there.
And I can't stop shaking.
Mister, everything changed in that room
that night, you know?
On account of little kids aren't supposed
to get shot and die.
They're supposed to live forever.
Michael, Sid Hershberg.
Oh, thanks, Elizabeth.
Not too bad.
Yeah, for a drugged-out, psychodepressive wacko.
Don't throw those clinical terms at me.
How you doing, Sid?
You know, I go through bouts of depression, but at
least these drugs have taken some of the fight out of me.
I haven't swung on anyone in a couple of hours.
Oh, God, Mike.
Truth is, it's a bitch.
I'm trying to pretend there's some meaning in what we do.
Well, what about Nina Emmons?
She's out of jail.
She has a hell of a shot at a wrongful death claim.
There's meaning in that.
I want you to know I appreciate you having taken this over.
I hate like hell to see this woman get sent
away just because I was one brick shy of a full load.
Forget it, Sid.
I didn't do anything you wouldn't have done.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
But while we're on the subject of appreciation,
I have to tell you, I'm really grateful to you.
You were there for me.
I'm a lawyer, Sid, like you.
I took on a case.
I'm not talking about the case.
You were there for me.
Come on, Sid.
When I was in the hospital.
You were the only one to come to see me.
I like you, Sid.
Even if you are nuts.
Nobody else, Mike.
And I want you to know, it meant a lot.
Well, I'm just glad to see you back.
It's been tough.
I won't lie to you about that.
I honestly didn't know if I'd ever be able
to walk into a courtroom again.
If I'd be able to get out of my own room, for that matter.
Looks like you made it.
We'll find out today.
I'm, uh, in Division 50 this afternoon.
Why don't you come see me in action?
What kind of case?
Solicitation.
A jury trial for solicitation?
Well, the girl is a good girl.
The girl didn't want to go to jail.
The D.A.
didn't want to let her walk with a fine.
Well, if I get a chance, I'll drop by.
If you could, Mike.
Uh, uh, friendly faces.
It's a nice thing to see.
Yeah.
When one brews oneself a cup of tea, the common
practice is to allow the bag to steep a while in the cup.
Then place the bag inside the concave
portion of the spoon, wrap the string
several times around both, bag and spoon, and by
tucking on the string, ring the bag before discarding.
Now, what I have designed is a tea bag,
which by dint of a heat-sealed covering of
polyethylene, 0.57 millimeters thick,
bent in half, permits one to simply slide
the tag downwards, ring the bag without
use of string or spoon.
Quite ingenious.
Thank you.
Is this the first thing that you've invented, Mr. Hall?
Oh, my goodness, no.
I've developed numerous advances in the
manufacturing of tea bags, both to
facilitate the osmotic action when immersed in water
and as involves the actual attachment of tag and string.
And did you receive extra compensation for
these inventions?
Yes, per my contract, but it never amounted to very much.
Whereas this, I suppose there's no fool like an old fool.
In any event, I sat in Mr. Atwood Wade's
office not six months ago.
I presented him with drawings,
with prototypes, everything necessary to
begin production, which is exactly what he's done.
Except that he now claims the entire process was his
idea, and I'm entitled to be compensated, not one whit.
As far as tea bags go, this, uh
Figures to be a big item?
Big?
This figures to be the biggest
breakthrough in tea bag technology since
the Lipton people developed the W-fold,
since Sir Henry Addison isolated Orange Pico.
Not to appear immodest, Miss Kelsey,
but this is a watershed event,
and I'll not be robbed of my moment in history.
The long and the short of it, Nina, is they're worried.
They don't want to go to court on a wrongful death claim.
They don't want to risk a jury verdict.
They don't want the publicity.
So the offer is to drop the attempted
murder charges in exchange for a release.
Which means what?
You walk if you drop your suit.
Just like that?
No probation, no nothing?
No nothing.
What do you think?
I think it stinks.
They don't have a case against you, and they know it.
What they want is for you to drop the case
you have against them.
In other words, they're looking to get
something for nothing.
Yeah, well, that's nothing new, Mr. Kuzak.
You think I can get money for my baby, right?
Absolutely.
And you don't think I'll end up going to jail?
No, I don't.
If you hadn't taken my case over,
I'd still be sitting in that cell.
You're a smart man, Mr. Kuzak, and I
appreciate what you did in getting me out.
But I believe I'd like to take their offer.
It's not a good offer, Nina.
Yeah, I'm sure it isn't.
But see, you're somebody who feels lucky.
You get out there and you figure I'm gonna do okay.
And you're right most of the time.
But I don't feel lucky.
I figure I'm gonna lose.
And I'm also right most of the time.
You could do better.
I could also do worse.
Now, if they're willing to let me keep my kids and not
spend any time in jail, then I'll cut my losses right here.
They're bad enough already.
You see, the prosecution would have you
believe as they do that this case should
not be wasting your time, that the
defendant is a common whore in a garden
variety solicitation case, and that she
should just take her medicine,
do her 30 days or her six months,
then do her parole and be done with it.
One could argue what real difference does
it make if she goes to prison or goes free?
She isn't famous nor is she rich when she
dies she will not rate even one line in
the newspaper there may well be no one there to grieve.
She will live out her life be it long or
short in the sort of.
Pervading anonymity that permits us to dismiss
her and dismiss her without a second thought but.
I have to ask myself how many more of us
are dismissed in the same manner on this
rock hard earth when the reaper's scythe
is on the back swing what distinguishes
any one of us what do any of us do with our lives that
Mark us as worthy of consideration consideration, quite.
Honestly, I'm at a loss to say, is.
It that once we had dreams, or.
A birthday, or.
Maybe that we've been children,
that we've known Christmas, what.
I always thought Christmas is about,
is a kind of free pass, a time of saying,
hey, you don't have to earn it,
we'll consider you, the least of you,
and we'll do it strictly on faith,
Christmas goes, the audition continues,
and each one of us is sent back to hammer
on his own personal anvil with the idea
that we will be hammering until our hearts
stop and someone kindly lays us to rest.
I hope you have listened to Lurleen
Connors, and I hope you will consider her.
I thank you.
For listening to me.
Atlanta, Rams.
Arnie, Mrs. Stanton is on the other line.
She says it's very important.
Bears, Redskins, and Chargers.
Yeah, that's it.
Okay, I'll talk to you on Monday.
Bye-bye, thanks.
Mrs. Stanton.
All right, Maureen.
Uh, tonight.
Listen, is your lawyer okay with this?
You sure?
Okay.
Eight O'clock.
I'll see you there.
All right, bye-bye.
I thought we swore to each other.
No time for shopping, no presents.
I know.
It's just a little something.
You've been a good friend, Ann.
No.
I can't resist toy stores.
You get to assemble it.
Eric gets to play with it.
Actually, Jim is going to have Eric for the holidays.
I thought he was going to let you see him on Christmas Day.
Changed his mind.
Oh.
How about spending some time with Stuart and me?
I have a major project.
I'm going to clean out all my closets and drawers.
You have no idea how disgusting they get.
Excuse me, ladies.
Am I breaking up a personal moment here?
Abby Perkins, Vinnie La Rosa.
You're probably too young to remember Julius La Rosa.
The singer, you mean?
Are you related to him?
You're kidding me, right?
You can't see it in the face?
Very nice to meet you.
Pleasure.
Look, I don't want you to get nervous here.
I'm going to do this in such a way as to
keep the damage to a minimum.
Now, I did a preliminary sift through, Miss K.
And I don't know, there might be a few
items here that might be worth a look.
I say to myself, what could the garbage
from a place like Atwood Wade be like?
Crumpled bits of papers, probably.
Maybe some tea bags.
Clean, though.
Forget about it.
Garbage is garbage.
And theirs don't smell like vanilla ice cream cones.
Mr. Hall, Ann Kelsey, Atwood Wade's secretary.
What's her first name?
Gisela.
Thank you, Mr. Hall.
I'll be speaking to you.
Who's the letter to?
Mistress Gisela.
Can I get you something from the bar?
A Fleischmann's and a beer, please.
I'll have whatever she's having.
What's behind this, he thought to himself.
Why would my client's wife call me and ask
me if I'm free for dinner?
It is an intriguing question.
Want me to answer it for you?
Only if I won't be disappointed.
As soon as you walked into that conference room
yesterday, I knew I was going to go to bed with you.
I can't put it any other way than that.
That's okay.
That way's fine.
Excuse me.
Here you go.
Disappointed?
You seem a little, uh, distracted.
No, actually, I was just offering up a prayer of
Thanksgiving and gratitude for God's great gifts.
Oh, so he gets credit, does he?
Yeah, he gets the credit, I get you.
And what do I get?
Anything you want.
You're not put off?
Not hardly.
I'm glad.
You see, Arnie, I don't have the time or
the inclination for subtlety.
And I dropped the pretense of being a good
little girl the day I took off the white
blouse and plaid skirt that I wore to Our
Lady of Perpetual Sorrow.
I would like to have seen you in that
plaid skirt and blouse.
That can be arranged.
Shall I start saying my Hail Marys now for
what it is I'm about to do?
I have a feeling you'd better.
As far as sin goes, I think this is going to be a big one.
Merry Christmas.
I know how you get this time of year,
so I'll pick them up on Monday, okay?
Thank you.
For what it's worth, I'm not drinking.
That by itself makes a whole lot of things much clearer.
Come on in.
Hi.
I'm glad you're here to help me decorate the tree.
Do you want to hang the little drum?
Honey, I really do love you.
And you know that.
Don't you?
Just out of curiosity, did Tim tell you anything about me?
No, not really.
Poor Tim.
Yeah, well, I guess it wasn't too realistic to think that
his name wouldn't come up somewhere along the line.
I wouldn't want to do anything to hurt him.
Of course not.
But now, you can put that chapter of your life to
rest, and you can begin taking care of yourself.
Not to mention taking care of you.
Yes, there is that.
Hello?
Hello?
All right, are you here?
Tim?
I didn't see your car out front.
I've got to pick up a couple of things.
Are you decent?
Oh.
Excuse me.
So, what do we got, Mike?
Are we ready to sign some papers?
Well, why don't we start with what we don't got?
No way, no how, my client's going to walk away
from a good chance at a multi-million dollar jury verdict.
In return for the DA dropping a case, it's going to
fold anyway the first time I make a motion to dismiss.
When is the last time you heard of a wrongful
death award in the millions for a black infant female?
Am I giving refresher courses here or what?
All right, what does she want?
I don't even want to go to her with less
than a quarter million.
You went to her with a thousand dollars
and a bigger apartment and the project,
she'd think she died and went to heaven.
Assuming I can get my boss to agree to it,
which is by no means a safe assumption,
would 50 grand square this away?
50 grand?
That's insulting, Scanlon.
Yeah?
Anybody ever insult your client like that before?
Nobody ever murdered her kid before, either.
All right, look, if I can come up with a
hundred grand, have we got a deal?
You come up with a hundred grand.
Get the D.A.
to drop the case with prejudice,
expunge her records of the arrest,
and I think maybe I can sell it.
But no tricks.
I don't want this woman coming away from
this with as much as a traffic ticket.
Yeah, yeah, all right.
You work it out on your end, I'll work it out on mine.
Going to Hirshberg's funeral?
Yeah.
If you think of it, pay my respects, will you?
Although Sidney Hirshberg's life was taken
far too soon, we must not judge him or
those pressures which he found,
for whatever reason, unendurable.
Although I personally never had the pleasure of
knowing this man, his passing leaves us that much poorer.
He'll be missed by his friends,
his colleagues, his clients, who were
counseled by him, who benefited from his
experience, his wisdom, his understanding.
Now I would ask any of Sidney's friends or loved
ones to come forward and speak in his memory.
By the way, do you prefer to be called
simply Mr. Atwood or Mr. Atwood Wade?
Atwood Wade is the correct appellation.
Thank you.
Mmm, nice.
Earl Gray?
I believe it is, yes.
You said you wished to discuss
An omission in discovery?
Yes.
You failed to produce a document that I asked for.
And which document might that be?
The transcription of notes taken at the meeting at
which my client presented his invention to your client.
There were no notes taken at that meeting.
My client seemed to think that Miss Gisela
Radford was taking copious notes at that meeting.
No notes.
You did have a meeting.
If you could call it that.
Gunther Hall came into my office and
started rambling on about a self-wringing teabag.
Well, I stopped him after approximately 30
seconds and told him that we'd had that
idea under development for at least six months.
And that was that.
Miss Radford.
Exactly what he said happened.
In other words, it's the two of you
against the word of my client.
That would appear to be a correct evaluation.
You wouldn't have any reason to lie for
Mr. Atwood Wade, would you, Miss Radford?
What are you suggesting?
A personal relationship, perhaps.
A uniquely intimate relationship between Ackley and Gisela?
As you've crossed over the line of good
taste, Miss Kelsey, I must ask you now to leave.
As you wish.
We can do this in open court instead.
However, I must warn you that I do intend to impeach the
testimony of Miss Radford with
evidence of that very relationship.
What evidence are you talking about?
I'd rather not say at this moment,
but I do have reason to believe,
Mr. Atwoodway, that there are certain articles of Ms. Radford's
clothing which you find to be particularly compelling.
Including, but not limited to, her shoes.
What would it take?
Ackley!
Gisela, please.
My client only wants what's fair.
May I ask what's going on here?
Of course you may.
I believe your client is agreeing to pay my
client that to which he is contractually entitled.
Am I correct, Mr. Atwood-Wade?
Mistress Gisela, it's you who are
powerful, and I only a recalcitrant little
boy who needs to be taught his lesson,
to suffer every bit of the humiliation and
derision I deserve, to wait until your Yorkie has eaten his
fill that I might have a bit of the kibble he's left over.
If I could but worship at the altar of
your shoes, wincing with exquisite pain,
at the sharp jab of your heel, I would be
for you an abject slave until the end of time.
Do with me what you will, your loyal SpongeBob, Ackley.
I, uh
I actually find that to be a very moving letter.
Knock yourself out, sport.
Hey, Grace.
Merry Christmas, Victor.
Did he snub you that to you, too?
I thought you were doing that court.
I am.
But the judge got a case of Christmas spirit.
Hallelujah.
Is Kuzak around?
Yes, somewhere.
See ya.
Merry Christmas, Iris.
Can I?
What?
Oh.
First-year law student has to have a briefcase.
Oh, it's beautiful.
It's, it's just beautiful.
It's set, uh, inside the, uh
Black's Law Dictionary.
Oh, it's a must.
Thank you, Leland.
Not just for the briefcase, but for your
support and encouragement.
Just remember there's plenty more where that came from.
Good luck, Iris.
Merry Christmas.
I made it myself.
It's beautiful, Roxanne.
You sure you really like it?
You wouldn't have rather had blue?
It's perfect.
I forgot my mistletoe.
Well, you don't need it, Arnie.
I got you a little something, too.
Antique marcosite and Pearl.
It's gorgeous.
Here.
Well, I think I'm gonna head home.
I'm really beat.
One cup of eggnog.
Arnie, I want to apologize for putting you
in this position.
You didn't exactly do it by yourself.
So what does that make us?
Partners in crime?
I sure as hell feel like a criminal.
I do too, Arnie.
But I know that all day today I really
wanted to talk to someone.
And as much as I fought it, the person I
wanted to talk to was you.
I guess we just let things get out of control.
That's it.
An innocent guy, a guy who trusted both of
us, is made to suffer.
Does it make it any better that we're suffering, too?
We're guilty.
We're supposed to suffer.
I know.
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
We could have at least waited, Maureen.
We didn't have to hurt him the way we did.
I mean, he's a nice guy.
That's true, Arnie.
Unlike you and me, he is nice.
But you know something?
Nice people are real killers.
The ones like Tim.
Nice, vulnerable, wearing that
vulnerability-like body armor,
constantly reminding you it's there.
You know where Tim is now?
He's at an orgy of his own imagination.
While you and I have been beating
ourselves with guilt and remorse,
he's been writhing in ecstasy at his vision of us together.
Come on, Marinda.
You think that's taking it a little too far?
Really?
Tell me the truth.
Did he tell you things about me?
Of course he did.
He likes to do that.
Tell people things.
The car rides, the movie theaters.
He had a friend with a two-seater Alfa.
One night we were all driving to a party.
Go with Tom, he said.
I'll meet you there.
We arrived every bit as late as he knew we would.
We're not betraying him, Arnie.
We're giving him exactly what he wants.
Have they locked the door?
Uh-uh.
Mickey!
What is it, Mickey?
You know how many people showed up for Sid Hirshberg?
How many?
Maybe ten.
His wife looked relieved.
Rabbi didn't even know him.
Nobody had anything to say.
Including me.
All right.
Nobody cried for Sid Hirshberg.
Yeah, this poor bastard couldn't keep the
gun from his head.
And nobody cried.
It's okay.
It's okay.
It's okay, Mickey.
Crazy.