ahh.
about?
that happens this time of year.
luther, you don't have me.
-- you know what it's like being the only kid in show and tell who got to talk about visiting day?
we don't see each other anyway -- we haven't seen each other since mom died and that's a year. look, you chose your life. you had that right. you were never around for me. fine. but i have no plans to be around for you.
-- wait a minute -- you're lying about something, aren't you? --
-- are you active again? -- is that why you're here now?
-- i don't believe you -- -- christ, father, what have you done?
is that good or bad?
look, lieutenant -- i told you on the phone, i'm simply not involved with my father, so this may not be a waste of time for you, but it sure is for me.
report you as an incompetent.
-- what? --
wow -- that never crossed my mind -- you think there might be some connection? -- like maybe i'm somehow compensating? -- i better write that down.
lieutenant -- i don't know the man -- he was in jail when i was a kid, when he got out my mother and i went off to live by ourselves. we don't make contact. he doesn't care about me. i've seen him all of once this past year.
couple days ago. he said he might be going away. there. i just helped you. can i go back to work now?
quit wasting my time -- if he doesn't want you to find him, you're not going to find him.
i'm saying you won't recognize him. i'm saying he could be just around the corner -- he always kept a safe house --
he never said --
-- my mother loved him, all right? -- even after she left him -- even when she was dying she always talked about him -- 'if only he hadn't this,' 'if only he could have that' --
i meet a lot of asshole cops like you -- guys who o.d.'d on columbo --
-- there's something else, isn't there? something you want me to do? -- but you won't say ---
how long did he live here?
never been.
he always did that.
 but he wasn't at those places.  .  college graduation; law school graduation; the night mom and i celebrated when i got a job; and me alone on the steps? -- i'd just won my first case, i was so proud.  .  i used to think.  sometimes i'd come home and i'd sense he'd been in my apartment, checking the fridge, shaking his head because he never thought i ate right.  it's crazy but i just knew daddy was watching over me.
 no.
 he won't come.
i left a message on his machine, he called back within an hour; we're meeting tomorrow afternoon.
an open-air place near my office, the cafe alonzo --
four o'clock -- it's deserted then.
nothing, thank you.
pardon?
i'm waiting for someone.
oh he will, we both will -- we'll order half the menu -- but just not now --
thank you so much.
messy.
i just need some sleep.
you're on a hot streak, i guess.
you said.
anything for the road? i've got water and water.
tired is all.
how's that?
i betrayed you, luther. you better know that now.
why'd you come?
no, this afternoon. to the restaurant. why'd you come then? you must have suspected something, or you wouldn't have been prepared.
the same two guys who tried for you this afternoon?
pretty powerful enemy; good going.
you're saying you're innocent of the murder? why in the world * should i believe you?
jesus, luther.
they'll kill you.
can you run?
what can you do?
it's dangerous outside.
 daddy?
 you're still here?
 was that seth?
i know, he lives alone -- *
 you don't have to fuss.
 am i going to be all right?.