you look like death taking a shit.
you're still the only guy who ever traded movie-potential for police work.
'favor' mean `free?'
what are we doing?
what?
he gets it.
y'know hughes has a job you're tailor-made for. i already gave him your-
stop pretending you're not a pig for all this, klein.
-tossing more bantamweights out * windows?
not even the people who don't know you believe that. if somebody from the da's office decides to dig, you could fry boy-o. be nice to be in with a billionaire who's got a fleet of planes, fly you outta the country on a moment's notice. c'mon -- it's a cake legal gig. he * just wants you to burn some actress that stopped fucking him.
tomorrow. hughes aircraft, 7pm * it'll be worth it.
what's stemmons' address?
-junior's left the fucking planet.
yeah. i swung by his apartment, car was out front. i scoped it: a sawed- off shotgun in front, canned tuna in the back seat. think he's living outta that car. after he left, i tried to get inside his place: the front door is triple pad-locked.
-the what?
i'll bring `em.
who's car is that?
junior looked real skeezed this morning. like he was on a dope jag.
sweated up like a stuck pig. and be careful. he was fucking around with his front door before he left. i don't know what he was doing.
what about this bledsoe broad? milteer has called me twice.
asshole!
i know what feds look like -- those were feds with junior.
barter what?
you what?
what did you do to his place? nice quiet neighborhood one minute, nagasaki the next.
few more hours. maybe. junior didn't skimp on this thing. i gotta bore right through the face plate. you got some time now, why don't you get milteer off my back and go work that bledsoe broad.
the knife ain't there. file on top of that middle pile: george ainge in an `undisclosed locale.'
junior documented everything like a fucking monk. like here: `has evidence' you murdered sanderline johnson.
in-case stemmons made a house-call. he's got every goddamn address of everybody you know.  and you should've told me about the bledsoe broad.
then call milteer about this dead pimp gillette. i'm no legal mind like you, but i'll bet a murder beef would violate her morals clause quick. collect the rest of your money.
then give that five grand back.
people are gonna start lining-up to see you bleed, pal.
fucking christ. you can't keep that car in the garage, the smell's coming into the house.
that's not gonna help.
what do you got in there?
i'm taking her.
hughes.
it's more than that.
that you made mine.
look as bad as i've ever seen you.
i'm sorry dave.
-there's a body in the trunk-
i'm so sorry.
be nice to be in with a billionaire who's got a fleet of planes, fly you outta the country on short notice.