Mountie and
Soul
[gym parking lot]
[crowds of people wearing either purple or yellow clothing]
Ray
: No, no, no, Fraser, trust me. You don’t know this world.
It’s got its own code, it’s own rules, its own
lingo-
Fraser: You
might be surprised, Ray. I’m not unaccustomed to programs
designed to help disadvantaged youths. As a matter of
fact--
Ray: These kids
aren’t disadvantaged. They’re gang members, okay? This
gets them off the streets, gives them something positive
to do, blows off a little steam.
Fraser: Well, I
fail to see the difference between that and the wildfowl
rescue program that I helped organize in--
Ray: You want
to know the difference? In this program, you try to
separate your opponent from his head.
Fraser: Ah.
Pugilism.
[they walk toward a boxing
ring]
Ray: Not
pugilism, Fraser. It’s boxing. And remember about the
lingo. [a young man
approaches]
Uh, Levon, this is my friend Fraser.
Levon: Hey
Fraser, what’s up?
Fraser: Well,
the Chicago Mercantile Exchange is up, uh, Ray’s hair is
up.
Ray: He’s
Canadian.
Levon: My man,
shout out.
Ray:
[to
Fraser]
Shout out, funny.
Fraser:
Ah.
Francesca: Hi,
Fraser.
Fraser: Ah.
Francesca.
[Dief
groans]
Francesca:
What’s with him?
Fraser: Oh, he
won’t speak to me.
Francesca: How
come?
Fraser: Well,
the alarm clock went off at five and he refused to budge
so I reprimanded him for being slothful.
Francesca:
Five? Isn’t that, like, dark?
Fraser:
Yes.
Levon: Yeah,
look at it. I’ll be up there. I’ll be dancing, messing my
man’s face all up.
Ray:
That’s-that’s a good attitude. Now, boom-boom, dance
yourself back to the locker and don’t get too cocky.
Levon: I’m not
cock--
Ray: Don’t get
too cocky.
Levon: I’m not
cocky. I’m the best.
[Levon passes Fraser
on his way to the locker room]
Fraser: Good
luck, son.
Levon:
Yeah.
Francesca: The
guy wins a couple of little league fights, thinks he’s
Muhammad Ali.
Ray: Look, you
wanted to come, Francesca, I said you could come but I did
not say you could criticize.
Francesca: It’s
just a little comment, bro.
Ray: And it
wasn’t little league, it was, uh, community league, and it
wasn’t a couple of fights, it was all of ‘em.
Francesca:
Whatever.
Ray: He’s the
best fighter I ever trained.
Francesca:
Isn’t he the only fighter you ever trained?
Ray: Yeah, and
tonight he fights against a pro. And if he wins he could
be going all the way.
Fraser: All the
way to where?
Ray:
[climbs into the
ring, tripping over the
ropes] Up
the, uh, up the ranks, uh, to the top. What do you think?
Woo-hoo-hoo. [dances
around the ring]
Voices: Look
at the Great White Hope....What’s he doing?....What’s he
doing with that?
Ray:
Boom-boom-boom-boom. Boom-boom.
Mmmm! I still
got all the moves. I coulda been, I coulda been, I coulda
been--
Francesca: A
contender?
Ray: Yeah,
how’d you know?
Francesca:
Lucky guess.
Fraser: I
wasn’t aware that you’d had a boxing career, Ray.
[Kowalski bounces against the ropes, right into their
faces]
Ray: Ah, it
wasn’t exactly a career. It was more of a--
Francesca: A
disaster?
Fraser: A
hobby?
Francesca: A
meltdown?
Fraser:
Pastime?
Francesca:
Nightmare?
Ray: Look,
you’re both very very funny. But, uh, I had to quit when
I, uh, got married to Stella cause she didn’t think it
was, uh, what’s the, uh-?
Francesca:
Civilized?
Ray: That’s
it.
Francesca:
Yeah.
Man: Yo,
Ray!
[group of men
wearing yellow approach as Kowalski jumps down]
Ray: Hey.
Man: Yo, man,
we’re gonna kill ‘em tonight.
Ray: You know
it, homes.
Man:
Yeah.
[the group moves
on]
Francesca: And
those would be?
Ray: Uh,
fans.
Fraser:
Fans?
Ray: Cabrini
Gangsters. Levon’s, uh, gang.
[yellow & purple
spectators yell & jeer back & forth]
Fraser: And I
would imagine those would also be fans?
Ray: The
Rollin’ 22’s. The other guy’s, uh, gang.
Fraser: I see.
So-so each fighter then comes equipped with his own
gang?
[corridor behind the
gym: Kowalski, Fraser, Franco Devlin, and Mason
Dixon]
Devlin:
Vicchio, you sure you want to do this? My boy’s pretty
good.
Ray: It’s
Vecchio. So’s mine.
Devlin: Well,
you know I’ve trained a few, and Deron could be the best
ever.
Ray: Oh yeah?
Better than Sugarman?
Devlin: Bigger
and faster. I wouldn’t want your boy to get hurt.
Fraser: Ray,
can you tell me please, this ‘Sugar Man.’ Is that a first
name or a last name?
Devlin: Where
you from?
Ray: This is
Constable Benton Fraser.
He-first-came-to-Chicago-on-the-killers-of-his-father-he’s-Canadian-you-don’t-want-to-know.
Bare knuckle fighter.
Fraser: No,
Ray, I only
wrestle
bears.
Devlin: Okay.
Good luck.
[Devlin and Mason
exit]
Ray: He’s
trying to psych me. Franco Devlin is trying to psych
me.
Fraser: That’s
a good thing, I take it?
Ray: Mmm, it’s
fantastic! He’s a legend. He’s one of the great trainers.
And he’s trying to psych me? That means his guy’s in
trouble. If his guy’s in trouble, that means we got a
shot.
Fraser: Who is
the Sugar Man?
Ray: He was
going to be the next heavyweight champion of the earth.
Devlin trained him ‘til he got big, then Sugarman dumped
him.
Fraser:
Why?
Ray: He got a
guy with more juice from ICF. Devlin’s great at developing
a fighter but he’s not that good at building a
career.
Fraser: You
seem to know a lot about this.
Ray: Uh, sure,
I read “Ring World” every week.
Fraser: Now let
me see if I’ve got this straight, Ray. When he said his
fighter was bigger and--
[Kowalski puts his index finger to his lips]
Fraser
: [softly]
--bigger and faster than the Sugar Man, was he
lying?
Ray: Uh, if he
wasn’t we’re sunk, because nobody’s bigger and faster than
the Sugarman.
Fraser:
Ah.
[boxing
ring]
[fighters (Levon & Deron) in middle; Kowalski and
Fraser watch from Levon’s
corner]
Fraser: He’s
very big.
Ray: Yeah,
well, it’s not about size, Fraser. It’s, uh, you know,
it’s, uh, speed, it’s, uh, what’s in the brain plate. It’s
psychology, you know?
Fraser:
Ah.
[Deron whispers in
Levon’s ear; Levon returns to his corner]
Ray: What’d he
say to you?
Levon: He said
he loved me.
Ray: Look at
him, look at the size of him. He’s a freak. He does not
love you. He wants to kill you.
Levon:
Mm-hmm.
Ray: Okay? So,
you stick and move, stick and move.
Announcer:
Round One!
[bell rings for
round 1]
Ray: Let’s go,
let’s go, let’s go... on your toes, on your toes, on your
toes... Levon, let’s go, let’s go... Come on... Keep your
left... [Levon
falls]
He’s really fast!
Fraser: He’s
very big.
Ray: He’s
really big and really fast. Up, up, up, up....Shake it
off, shake it off, come on, shake it off.
[stands; Welsh sits
with Francesca]
Welsh: You see
the hot dog guy?
Francesca: You
can eat?! They’re bleeding up there.
Welsh: Blood
never spatters this far.
[bell ends round
1]
[Kowalski pulls out
stool for Levon; Fraser sponges water over Levon’s
head]
Ray:
Let’s
go, let’s go, let’s go.
Levon: He’s
killing me.
Ray: Nah,
you’re doing great.
Levon:
[to
Fraser]
He’s killing me, right?
Fraser: Yes, it
would appear so.
Ray: You know,
you just keep running around, running around, tire him
out. Fraser, don’t drown my fighter.
Fraser: Oh,
right you are, Ray.
Levon: The ring
is only about so big.
Ray: Yeah, but
every step he takes is killing him. So you just keep
moving. You just keep moving, okay?
Announcer
: Round 2!
[bell sounds for
round 2]
Welsh: Yo, hot
dog here!
[Levon goes
down]
Ray: Come on,
up, up, up, up, up! Let’s go, let’s go, shake that off,
shake it off, Levon, shake it off, let’s go.
[Levon goes down
again]
Francesca: Come
on, hit him!
Ray: Let’s
go... Wow... Move out of the corner, move-move-move-move,
run away, run away from--
[bell ends round
2]
Ray: Let’s go,
let’s go, let’s go. That’s great, Levon. You’re wearing
him down. You just stay outta the corners. You go to him.
Remember, keep moving, keep moving, weave, weave.
Announcer
: Round 3!
[bell sounds for
round 3]
Ray: Fraser, he
would have hated himself if I didn’t send him back in
there, okay?
Fraser: I
see.
Ray: Okay, he
takes one good punch, we throw in the towel.
Fraser: Do you
have a towel?
[Deron is suddenly
unsteady; Levon takes advantage]
Ray: Yeah,
yeah, yeah!
Francesca: Come
on! Hit him again!
Ray: Move on
him, move on him!
Welsh:
Yeah!
Ray: Kill him,
kill him, kill him!
[Levon keeps punching until referee steps
in]
[bell ends round
3]
Ray: Yay!
Welsh: Yeah,
yeah!
[Kowalski & gang
jump into ring in celebration; the other fighter kneels,
supported by the ropes, unmoving; everyone slowly becomes
aware something is
wrong]
[trainers & doctor work on Deron]
Levon
: He’ll be okay, right?
Doctor: Don’t
know yet.
Jamal: Yo, keep
away from him!
Levon:
What?
Devlin:
[to
Jamal] You
want to do some good, you stick with your brother.
Jamal: Step
off, old man.
Mason: Don’t
touch Franco.
Devlin:
[softly]
This is not a good place for your guy to
be.
[tempers flare;
Welsh pushes into crowded ring]
Welsh
: All right, all
right. There’s
no more to see! Clear it out! Get your butts out of here!
Come on!
[locker
room]
Levon: He was
killing me! He was! I-I couldn’t even hit him. Then he
just kinda got shaky and I started to get some shots in. I
shoulda known he was sick. I shoulda quit.
Ray: Look, it
wasn’t your fault.
Levon: Look,
nobody else in there hitting him!
Devlin: You
were both there to fight. You both knew there were
risks.
Levon: I could
have eased up on that last punch, you know. But I was
thinking, if-if-if I could shake him up a little, if I
just hit him in the head a couple times, if I--
Devlin: Son,
son, son. I’ve seen a lot of fights and a lot of vicious
fighters. You are not one of them. Now what happened in
there was an accident, plain and simple. You don’t want to
be beating yourself up over that.
[to
Kowalski]
I better get to the hospital. You take care of your
fighter.
Ray: Yes,
sir.
Devlin: Levon,
it was a fair fight. You remember that.
[Devlin & Mason
exit]
Levon: I gotta
see him.
Ray: Levon, I’m
not sure if that’s such a good idea.
Levon: I gotta
know how he is.
Fraser: Perhaps
it would be a better idea to wait until tempers have
cooled down a little.
Levon: Look,
you don’t know my hood, man. Things don’t get cool
there.
Ray: Well
that’s another good reason not to go to the
hospital.
Levon: I gotta
know!
Ray: All right,
I’ll go with you. Okay?
Levon: All
right.
Ray:
Okay.
Levon:
Okay.
Ray:
Cool.
[outside; ambulance is leaving; many people mill
around]
Ray: Jamal,
how’s your brother doing?
Jamal: Don’t be
stepping to me like you care.
Levon: I care,
yo.
Jamal: You won.
That’s what it’s all about, right?
Fraser: Surely
it’s about more than that. It should be about competition
and fair play--
Jamal: It’s
about winning. Everybody knows that. You win, you move up.
You lose, you go down.
Levon: How’s he
doing? How’s Deron doing?
Jamal: Well,
he’s got some kinda coma thing. They don’t even know if
he’s gonna make it or not. Which makes him a loser. Big
time.
Levon: Man,
look, I know you’re not gonna believe this, but I’m really
sorry.
Jamal: You
don’t know what sorry is yet, chump. But you’re gonna.
[Levon turns to
leave]
Don’t you do that.
[fight ensues
(including Fraser & Kowalski)... it ends when Kowalski
pulls out his gun and shoots a few rounds into the
air]
Ray:
Chicago PD! Hit the dirt! Kiss the dirt!
[everyone either flees or drops to the ground]
Ray
: Where’s Levon?
Fraser: Where’s
Jamal?
Ray:
[to men]
Stay!
[27th
precinct]
[they bring in
handcuffed gang members to stand in front of the desk
sergeant]
Fraser: All I’m
saying, Ray, is that Jamal had a point.
Ray: On the top
of his head.
Fraser: No, the
emphasis on winning over everything else tends to
exacerbate the dangers of boxing.
Ray: What is
that supposed to mean? Is that because I said ‘kill him’?
This is lingo, this is what I’m talking about. When I said
‘kill him,’ I, you know, I mean hit him. Win. Not kill
him.
Desk Sergeant:
[hidden behind
suspects]
Detective Vecchio?
Fraser: I know
that, and I’m certainly not trying to suggest that you
were encouraging a homicide--
Desk Sergeant:
Guys?
Ray: Levon is a
good kid. I mean, he wasn’t trying to kill anybody. I
mean, you box, you get hurt. That is just par for the
course.
Fraser: Well if
that’s the case, then perhaps protective helmets would be
a good idea.
[sergeant comes
around suspects & desk]
Desk
Sergeant
: [sigh] Are you
booking these guys or are they just part of some colorful
parade?
Ray: Yeah,
yeah, we’re booking ‘em.
[to
Fraser]
Helmets?
[walking down
corridor]
Ray:
[laughing]
Come on, Fraser, you’re not serious about
this helmet thing.
Fraser: Well,
why not?
Ray: Because
it’s the sweet science. Boom-boom-boom. It’s an art. You’d
put a helmet on an artist? I think not.
Fraser: Well,
no, but artists don’t tend to get hit in the head on a
regular basis. Although you know, it is widely rumored
that Hieronymus Bosch used to repeatedly bang his skull
into his easel to stimulate his vision.
Ray: I love
that, but think about auto racing.
[into men’s room]
Ray
: I mean, they make it safe, what is the point?
Fraser: What
are you saying? That the point is the danger?
[man exits washroom & looks back,
puzzled]
Ray: No, boxing
is the point. Danger is just a part of it.
Fraser: Well
you know, if they wore protective helmets it would
minimize the danger.
[out of men’s
room]
Ray: You are
so-so-so-- Mmm! Canadian.
Fraser: It’s
just logic, Ray.
Ray: Logic,
exactly. Boxing has nothing to do with logic. It is sport
taken to its purest nut. It is muscles, sweat, guts,
torque, load. I mean, you ever meet a logical person who
would bite off another man’s ear?
Fraser: That’s
just another argument for protective helmets, with ear
flaps.
Ray: You admit
that I’m right or I’ll pop you in the head.
Fraser: We’re
not dealing with logic now, are we?
Ray: Logic,
smogic. Admit I’m right or I’ll pop you.
Fraser: Oh,
well, gee, in that case, Ray, I guess you’re right.
Ray: Thank you
very much.
Levon’s got a buddy up on, uh, Vacuum Street.
Fraser: You
mean Hoover?
Ray: *Hoover*
Street. It’s gonna be a long night.
[they walk
out]
[camera doesn’t move: a rooster crows; the light changes;
activity increases...Francesca enters wearing sunglasses
& carrying coffees; Fraser, Kowalski, and Dief reenter
station from the same corridor they left. (Kowalski looks
like
hell)]
Francesca: Hey,
you guys have a long night?
Ray: Mmm.
Fraser: Good
morning, Francesca.
Francesca: Hi,
Fraser. Can I get you a coffee? Tea? Foot massage?
Ray: No thanks,
Francesca. Look, can you call the hospital, see if Deron
is doing okay?
Francesca: I
called ten minutes ago. There’s no change.
[to
Fraser]
Neck rub?
Fraser: Well,
no, thank you kindly. Maybe, uh, maybe next week.
Ray: Come on!
[hits something in
frustration]
Where the hell is he?
Fraser: Well,
we know that he didn’t go home.
Ray: Okay. Well
we--
Welsh:
Vecchio!
Ray:
Yeah?
Welsh: I want
you to pick up Levon Jefferson.
Ray: Yeah, we
been trying to do that all night, sir.
Welsh: Why is
that?
Ray: Jamal
Martin and a bunch of his pals jumped us and he
split.
Fraser: We
think Martin may still be after him.
Welsh: Well
that’s unlikely. A patrol car just found Martin dead in an
alley. Just pick up Jefferson. Suspicion of
homicide.
[morgue]
[Mort sings as he pulls the sheet down, exposing Jamal’s
upper
body]
Ray: Aww.
[quickly turns
away]
That’s ugly.
Welsh: Yeah, he
got a pretty good working over.
Mort: At least
this one is nice and fresh. You should see them after
three, four days in--
Ray:
[gorge rising]
Mort, come
on.
Mort:
Squeamish?
Ray: Human. You
wouldn’t know anything about that.
Mort: It’s the
live ones that make me squeamish.
Ray: Look, can
you give an estimated time of departure?
Mort: Give me a
moment. [sings a
little more, inspecting the body’s
hand] I’d
say between 9 p.m. last night and 4 a.m. this
morning.
Ray: Well
that’s really accurate, Mort, cause we saw him around
10.
Mort: Why, it
narrows it down a bit, doesn’t it?
Ray: Look,
Levon didn’t do this.
Welsh: What
makes you say that?
Ray: Cause I
know the kid.
Welsh: Yeah,
well maybe I should put Jack and Dewey on this
case--
Ray: No, no,
no, no you don’t. I’ll bring him in.
Welsh: His
knuckles there. He looks like he’s been punching a
concrete wall.
Mort: Oh, yes.
He fought hard.
Welsh: And his
face. You think the average guy on the street could do
that kind of damage?
Mort: No. No.
It needs a lot of skill and strength.
Welsh: Right. A
boxer.
Ray: I didn’t
say he wasn’t able to do it. I said he *wouldn’t* do
it.
Welsh: Look,
I’d like to take your word for it, Detective, but the
prosecuting attorney’s office is going to want a little
more than that.
[Fraser picks up a pair of shoes & sniffs
them]
Ray: Fraser, I
said no tasting stuff in the morgue.
[Fraser tastes the
sole of
shoe] Ach,
that’s sick. You get that? I don’t get that.
That’s...
Mort: Is that a
new method? Did you find something?
Fraser: Bok
choy.
Welsh: Yeah. We
found him behind a Chinese restaurant. There was garbage
all over the place.
Ray: You see?
You see? You don’t have to go tasting a dead guy’s stuff
to be a cop. We knew that already.
[Fraser picks up a
plastic bag containing a small pill bottle]
Fraser
: Furosemide?
Mort:
Diuretic.
Fraser: Was he
taking it?
Mort:
Maybe.
Ray: Can you
test for it?
Mort: I could.
Well, I have to go in. Why would I do it?
Ray: Because,
uh... Uh, Fraser, why?
Fraser: There’s
no compelling reason. Never mind. We don’t really need to
know.
Ray: Fraser, a
word with you for a second?
[they step out into
the hallway]
Ray: Look,
Fraser, don’t hang me out to dry like that.
Fraser: Like
what, Ray?
Ray: Don’t ask
if the guy was taking diur-ess or whatever and when I ask
him about doing some tests go, “oh never mind, nobody
needs to know anyway.”
Fraser
: I’m sorry.
Ray: Well sorry
doesn’t cut it, Fraser. I’m a detective and a detective’s
gotta have credibility with guys like Mort. You pull a
little stunt like that and I lose face.
Fraser: Well, I
think you have a surfeit of face, Ray.
[bullpen]
Ray: Francesca,
can you get Tony Miller in here, please?
Fraser:
[catches Dief
begging goodies from
Frannie]
Dief. Dief!
Francesca: You
got a number?
Ray: Uh, he’s
in the phone book under Cabrini Gangsters.
Fraser:
Gangsters are in the phone book?
Ray: If they
got a phone, they’re in the book. Huey, can you make this
call for me? It’s Winona Jefferson. That’s Levon’s aunt.
He lives there. See if he came home.
Huey: Ray.
Ray-Ray-Ray.
Ray:
What?
Huey: I need
your advice on something.
Ray
: What?
Huey: Let’s say
you knew someone. Maybe even a friend.
Ray:
Right.
Huey:
Hypothetically speaking, let’s say this friend had an
odor.
Ray: What kind
of odor?
Huey: Bacon
bits and fish.
Ray: Oh, you’re
talking about your stinky partner.
Huey: You
noticed too, huh?
Ray: Yeah.
What’s the question?
Huey: Well, am
I obligated to tell him?
Ray: No. You’re
obligated to hose him down. Fraser, come on, let’s
go.
Fraser: We’re
off to look for Levon?
[holds door open for
Kowalski and waits for Dief to follow]
Ray: No, the
people who are looking for him.
Fraser: Ah.
Dief? [Dief’s
attention is still on
Frannie]
Dief-Dief-Dief. Would you mind?
[alley]
[they park outside a nondescript brick warehouse-type
building; several young men (purple) stand watch outside
the
door]
Ray: Okay,
Fraser, we gotta be kinda polite here.
Fraser: That’s
right up my alley, Ray. Dief?
[lets Dief out of
the backseat]
Ray: No. This
is, uh, a special kind of polite. It’s like, uh, a lingo
thing.
Fraser: Ahh. I
understand.
[observes people
passing
by]
They’re wearing headsets, Ray. It seems kind of organized
for a street gang, isn’t it?
Ray: Well, this
is the USA. This is, you know, they got equal opportunity.
They got upward mobility.
Fraser: Ah.
Good day, gentlemen.
Man #1: Yo,
that’s a bad ass outfit.
[Fraser turns his
back to Man#1]
Fraser
: [to
Kowalski]
He insulted the uniform.
Ray: Uh, he
meant good. Bad means good. He digs the uniform.
Fraser: Oh. You
mean, it’s the lingo thing. Sort of flip-flop?
Ray:
Yeah.
Fraser:
Understood. [turns
around]
Yes, sir, it is bad. It is red serge and it represents the
queen.
Man #1: Oh, the
queen.
Fraser:
Mmm-hmm.
Man #1: Oh,
that’s cool!
Fraser: Thank
you kindly.
Ray: We’re here
to see Duvall Edwards.
Man #2: Yeah,
yeah. You are?
[Kowalski reaches
inside his jacket and the guards quickly reach for their
weapons; Kowalski pulls back his jacket so they can see
the badge pinned to his shoulder holster; the guards relax
again]
Man #2: Aww, yo
got one of those. Yo, I got it in a cereal box. And I’m
thinking I’m gonna squeeze Mr. Heat in a few hours so yo,
‘sup?
Fraser: Sir, we
understand we don’t have an appointment, but we were
hoping that you would be able to accommodate us.
Man #2:
‘Commodate you.
Fraser:
Hopefully, yes.
[general
laughter]
Ray: Homes, can
I have a word with you?
Man #2: Aright.
Aright.
[they step away as
Fraser speaks with the others]
Ray: Hey, boom,
this is straight up. I mean, I’m Starsky, he’s
Hutch...
Fraser: ...this
is known as the Sam Browne. In particular, this is the
lanyard...
Ray: Now, I
showed you our colors, flashed our badges, you know.
There’s not going to be any trouble. We just want to talk
to him for ten minutes.
Man #2: Yeah,
so what’s it worth?
[Kowalski pulls out
some bills; Man #2 pockets the money and speaks softly
into his headset]
Fraser:
...let’s say you’re pursuing a criminal on horseback.
Should you lose control of your weapon, you don’t have to
dismount, you see. You simply scoop it up and there,
presto, you have it in your hand again. It’s something you
gentlemen might want to consider.
Man #1: Yeah.
[opens the door and
Kowalski, Fraser, and Dief enter]
Fraser: Nice
lads.
Man #1:
[closes the
door] He’s
crazy, man.
[warehouse elevator,
going down; Bodyguard accompanies them]
[every floor has activity – gambling, guns,
drinking]
Ray: This
dire-thingy. What is that?
Fraser: It’s a
drug that increases the rate of urine formation in the
kidneys.
Ray: Is that
good?
Fraser: For
certain medical conditions, yes.
Ray: So you
think he was sick and that was what killed him?
Fraser: No, no.
No, I’m quite certain he was beaten to death.
Ray: Then why
did you ask for the... Forget it.
Fraser: Ray,
maybe you can help me with this lingo thing. Is there by
any chance a reference book for it?
Ray: No
reference book. It’s street. Like that stuff at the door.
Certain words are flip, like bad means good.
Fraser: What if
something’s bad?
Ray: That’s
just bad.
Fraser: Isn’t
that confusing?
Ray: To a
Mountie, yeah.
Fraser:
Ah.
[elevator stops; man motions for them to
follow]
Ray: See, ‘fly’
is good. ‘That’s the bomb’ is great.
Fraser: Oh, I
see. So I could say, for instance, uh, “Ray, my very good
friend, you are a flying bomb.”
Ray: Nah, that
doesn’t work. Uh, example: “Homes, better keep it real,
cause we’re just up for the 411. We don’t want him to go
the whole nine yards and pull his gat and
bang-bang, put
a cap in us, you know? Cause we’d be
down on a
187!”
Fraser: I see.
And a 187 is...
Ray:
Dead.
Fraser: Dead.
Ah.
[club. Music: “Slave
to Your Love” by Dutch Robinson.]
Edwards: I
usually don’t allow dogs in here.
Fraser: Well,
actually he’s half wolf.
Edwards: That’s
better?
Ray: The wolf’s
cool. A couple of your guys tried to take our heads off
last night.
Edwards: My
guys?
Ray: Well, they
were wearing Rollin’ 22 colors.
Edwards: You
know, all the wrong people seem to be getting those
jackets.
Ray: Jamal was
hanging with them.
Edwards: Oh, so
this is about Jamal getting killed.
Ray: No, this
is about Levon Jefferson
not getting
killed.
Edwards: You
gotta understand, the guys take things like this kinda
hard. Jamal had a lot of friends in the 22s. I mean, he
was heading up our youth program.
Fraser: Youth
program. That’s commendable.
Edwards: Well,
you know, we try to give a little something back to the
community.
Ray: Right, in
return for all the drug money you take out of it. The
thing is, uh, Levon did not kill Jamal.
Edwards: Sure,
and he had nothing to do with Deron going to the
hospital?
Ray: Look, all
we want you to do is talk to your guys and get ‘em to
chill.
[woman whispers
something in Edwards’
ear]
Edwards
: You gotta understand. We got 28,000 members. I mean,
some days I don’t even get to talk to all of ‘em.
Fraser:
28,000? That’s the population of Moose Jaw.
Edwards:
Canadian.
Fraser: Yes.
How did you know?
Edwards: Lucky
guess.
Fraser:
Ah.
[Edwards begins to
slowly walk them through the club]
Edwards: We’re
thinking of branching out up there.
Fraser: Really?
You know, I’m not sure my government would look too
favorably upon that.
Edwards: See
now, that’s the problem with you Canadians and this thing
called free trade. I mean, you guys want access to our
markets and still try to protect your own.
Fraser: You
know, I’m not so sure it’s really a question of trade as
much as it is a moral issue. I mean, the fact that you are
involved in criminal activity – selling drugs, for
instance.
Oddly, that’s something we frown upon north of the
49th parallel.
Edwards: Oh,
there’s always some excuse.
Ray: Did you
see Jamal last night?
Edwards: And
what if I did?
Ray:
When?
Edwards: Around
10:30, maybe a little after.
Fraser: After
we encountered him. Hmm. This could be helpful. How much
time did you spend with him?
Edwards: Not
long. I mean, we had some business to go through.
Ray: Did he
happen to say where he was going after?
Edwards: To the
gym. To get some stuff out of his brother’s locker.
[he ushers them out
a door & closes the door behind them...the door opens
again and Dief exits]
[gym]
[Mason spars with another
man]
Ray: One of
yours?
Devlin:
Yep.
Ray: He’s
good.
Devlin: You
pounding sand or are you just dumb? The boy stinks.
Fraser: Well,
he looks strong.
Devlin: Strong
don’t mean nothing. Look around. They’re all strong. You
gotta have the head for it or you’ll never be a fighter.
Look at him. He’s showing everything. He’s opening up
after every shot. Hell, I could beat him.
[yells]
Mason, step it up! Aw, cover up, cover
up! He’s hitting you with everything he’s got!
[they stop
sparring]
Go work the heavy bag. That can’t hit you back.
Fraser: That’s
quite a nasty cut you have there.
Mason: It ain’t
nothing.
Fraser:
[reaches into his
belt
pouch]
Well, still, maybe a little antibiotic ointment will do
the trick here.
Mason: I said
it ain’t nothing.
[stalks
off]
Ray: Where’d
you get that, Fraser?
Fraser: Oh,
it’s not important.
Devlin: Aw.
He’s just embarrassed ‘cause that kid cut him.
Fraser: I
understand. Although, you know, judging from the
granulation at the edge of the wound, it would appear to
be an old injury.
Ray: Did you
see Jamal Martin last night?
Devlin: Not
after the fight.
Ray: Somebody
whacked him.
Devlin: Jamal?
Why?
Fraser: That’s
what we’re trying to determine, sir. We think he may have
come back here to collect his brother’s things.
Devlin: That’s
easy enough to find
out.
[locker
room]
Devlin: There’s
Deron’s locker.
Ray: Looks like
Jamal never got here.
Fraser: Looks
that way, doesn’t it?
[pulls out a jacket
and looks at
it] Hmm.
What do you think, Diefenbaker?
[holds it down for
Dief to sniff; Dief
grumbles]
My thought exactly.
[tastes the
jacket]
Devlin: What
are you doing?
Ray: Don’t
ask.
Fraser: Hmm.
[replaces
jacket]
Ray: Is that
like a good hmm or a bad hmm?
Fraser: Like a
soy sauce hmm.
[Kowalski and Fraser walk down stairs through
gym]
Ray: So Deron
was in the
alley. No,
Deron was in the hospital. Jamal picked up Deron’s clothes
and took them to the alley. Somebody killed him. Then
stole the clothes, and put ‘em back in the locker? That’s
D-U-M dumb.
Fraser: Well,
there is another possibility.
[Kowalski’s cell
phone rings]
Ray: What’s
that?
Fraser: Deron
liked Chinese food.
Ray: Yeah, I
like Chinese food. Let’s go for some.
[into
phone]
Yeah, Vecchio.
Levon:
[voice]
They’re after me! Train yards! Off
Percy--
Ray: Stay put.
We’ll be right there.
[field; four men
(Rollin’ 22s) chase Levon... they catch him just as
Kowalski and Fraser arrive; Kowalski pulls his gun and
fires several times into the air, frightening off the
attackers]
Levon: Oh, man!
Am I glad to see you! You really saved my butt.
Ray: Fraser, I
can’t.
Fraser: You
have no choice, Ray.
Ray: You are
under arrest for the, uh, murder of Jamal Martin.
Levon: Say
what?
Fraser: You are
under arrest for the murder of Jamal Martin.
Ray: You have
the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be held
against you in a court of law. If you cannot afford a
lawyer, one will be appointed to you.
[27th
precinct; interrogation room]
Dewey
: Where were you between 10 and 4 last night?
Levon: I
already told you! I was on the street moving.
Huey: You were
hiding from the 22s, weren’t you?
Levon: Yeah.
Hiding.
Dewey: But only
they found you, didn’t they? Jamal. Martin. Found.
You.
[observation room]
Ray : [softly] Come on, ease up on him. He’s just a kid.
Dewey
:
[voice]
I’m talking to you, kid.
Levon:
[voice]
I didn’t see nobody!
Francesca: Wow,
they’re really broiling him.
Ray: Grilling,
Francesca. It’s called grilling.
Francesca:
Grilling, broiling, pan frying. I think you know what I
mean, Mr. Vocabulary. Hi, Fraze.
Fraser:
Francesca.
[Frannie passes Fraser slowly as she exits; Fraser rolls
his
eyes]
Huey:
[voice]
How can we help you if you lie to us?
Levon:
[voice]
I’m not lying! I didn’t do
anything!
Dewey:
[voice]
No, you just beat a guy to death--
Ray: Hey, hey,
come on, they can’t do that.
[moves toward the
door]
Welsh: Where’re
you going?
Ray: In
there.
Welsh: No,
you’re not. You’re far too personally involved.
Ray: Personally
involved cause I don’t want them to torture a kid?
Welsh: They’re
not doing anything you wouldn’t do.
Dewey:
[voice]
You put one guy in the hospital, didn’t
you? You did that...
Ray: Right.
Good one. [exits,
slamming door]
Huey:
[voice]
We know he was a bad guy. He went after
you...
Fraser: I’m
sure he didn’t mean that, sir.
Welsh: I’m sure
he didn’t.
Levon:
[voice]
I didn’t do anything. I already told you. I
was on the street moving.
[Fraser
exits]
[bullpen]
Francesca: Hi,
Fraser.
Fraser: Ah,
Francesca. Have you, uh...
[Frannie takes
Fraser’s
arm] Have
you seen Ray?
Francesca:
Yeah. He said he was going someplace to think, whatever
mythical place that might be.
Fraser:
Ah.
Francesca: Uhm,
is that all?
Fraser: Yes.
Thank you. Kindly.
Francesca: Bye,
Fraser.
[Fraser waves, and exits
quickly]
Fraser:
Dief?
[gym; Kowalski is
punching a heavy bag]
Fraser: I
thought I’d find you here.
Ray: He’s a
good kid, Fraser. Great kid.
Fraser:
Nevertheless, Ray, it was your duty to arrest him.
Ray: It was my
fault. I got him all hyped for the fight. I trained
him.
Fraser: Yes.
But Ray, you couldn’t possibly have foreseen what was
gonna happen inside that ring.
Ray: I should
have left him alone. I should have just got him to
stop.
Fraser: I wish
there was something I could do to make you feel
better.
Ray: You want
to make me feel better?
Fraser : Mm-hmm.
[both look toward
ring]
[ring]
Ray: Come on,
Fraser, let’s get ready to rumble.
Fraser: Right
you are.
[Fraser does some
fancy footwork & puts up his dukes...they wear
headgear and groin protectors (though Fraser still wears
his jodhpurs); Kowalski skips around Fraser several times,
and throws jabs that Fraser always dodges; Fraser pivots
in place, arms set in classic boxing pose]
Ray: What are
you doing, Fraser?
Fraser: I’m
sparring.
Ray: No you’re
not. I’m sparring. You’re standing there like
a...Mountie.
Fraser: Well, I
am a Mountie.
Ray: I know
that, Fraser, but you got to try to hit me.
Fraser: Well,
I’d really rather not.
Ray: You’d
rather not.
[swing]
I don’t care what you’d rather not do. Just
do it.
Fraser: Why
would I want to hit a friend, Ray?
Ray: It’s
traditional in this sport. Come on, you just try to hit
me. Come on.
Fraser: No
thank you.
Ray: Hit
me.
Fraser:
No.
Ray: Hit
me.
Fraser:
No.
Ray: Hit
me.
Fraser:
No.
Ray: Hit
me.
Fraser:
No.
Ray: Hit
me.
[Fraser relents and
connects with Kowalski’s face; Kowalski staggers back and
Fraser rushes to him; Dief barks]
Fraser: I’m
sorry. Are you all right?
Ray: I wasn’t
ready.
Fraser: You
see, you really probably would benefit more by doing this
with a professional. I mean, there are certain drawbacks
to being Canadian.
Devlin: You
might make a pretty fair fighter. You got the head for
it.
Ray: Thank you
very much.
Devlin: Not
you. The Mountie.
Fraser: You
know, it might cheer you up a whole lot more, Ray, if you
sparred with Mr. Dixon.
Ray:
[shrugs]
I’m game for it if he is.
Mason:
[to
Devlin]
Okay?
[Devlin nods; Mason grins widely up at Kowalski as Fraser exits ring]
Fraser : [to Dief] You know, there really was no cause for worry. But I must say I do appreciate your concern. It’s been very rare these days.
[bell
rings]
Devlin: Don’t
worry. Mason won’t hurt him. Much.
[Mason proceeds to give Kowalski a sound
beating]
Fraser: Has
there been any change in Deron’s condition?
Devlin:
Nothing. I wasn’t trying to psych out your friend, you
know. Deron might be the best I ever trained. He could
have gone all the way.
Fraser: You
don’t think perhaps he was a little heavy?
Devlin: What
are you talking about? He was a heavyweight.
Fraser: So he
wasn’t concerned then with keeping
down his
weight.
Devlin: The
opposite. The kid worked so hard it was tough to keep the
weight on him.
[Kowalski hits the
canvas, and gets right up]
Devlin : He’s a good loyal kid, too. He would have stuck with me. Not like the others.
[Kowalski falls down face first; bell
dings]
[locker
room]
[Kowalski is sitting on a bench trying to put on his
t-shirt; he coughs, in pain; Dief is sitting by his knees,
Fraser stands a few feet
away]
Fraser: So. Now
you’ve sparred.
Ray: Yes,
Fraser, I have sparred.
Fraser: And you
feel better?
Ray: Yeah, I
feel better.
Fraser:
Mentally and spiritually, I presume, because your physical
condition is truly appalling.
Ray: I’m
good.
Fraser: Ah. You
don’t want to talk about it. It’s perfectly
understandable. I mean, after all, the core of pugilism
really is more of a mental and spiritual quest, isn’t it,
sort of like mountaineering or marathon dancing or the
Iditarod or--
Ray: Shut
up?
Fraser: As you
wish.
[Kowalski attempts to slip on his holster]
Fraser
: Do you need some help?
Ray: No.
[Kowalski tries
again, then slumps on the bench in defeat, chin on
chest]
[gym]
Fraser: I think
it may be possible to clear Levon of Jamal’s murder.
Ray: How?
Fraser: Well,
to a certain extent, it will depend on whether or not
Jamal was actually taking the furosemide that we found in
his effects.
Ray: That’s the
diur-whatsit that you didn’t get Mort to test for?
Fraser:
Exactly. So we should go to the lab now and pick up the
results.
Ray: Yeah, but
you didn’t get him to test for it.
Fraser: Well,
nevertheless I think we said enough to stimulate his
curiosity.
Ray: Yeah, but
those stiffs in the morgue got more curiosity than
Mort.
Fraser: Well,
we’ll soon find out.
Ray: Ten
bucks.
Fraser: No, I
never wager.
Ray: Oh, you
don’t bet, you don’t fight, what do Canadians do at night,
play charades?
Fraser: At
night? We
sleep.
[27th precinct;
morgue]
[Mort is lying on
his worktable, singing German opera]
Fraser:
Mort...Mort...Mort, Mort, Mort, Mort.
Mort: Oh. I’ve
been expecting you. He wasn’t taking furosemide. What
significance it has, I don’t know. However, I also
discovered there was no medical condition that would
require diuretics.
Fraser: Thank
you kindly.
Mort
:
[sings]
Buono
notte..
. [chuckles]
[upstairs; Fraser
and Kowalski walk through the precinct corridors (from
their POV)]
Fraser: The
furosemide belonged to his brother.
Ray: To
Deron?
Fraser: Yes. We
have reason to believe that Jamal emptied Deron’s locker
and had his things with him when he was killed.
Ray: The soy
sauce.
Fraser: And the
bok choy.
Ray: Why would
Deron want the diuretic?
Fraser: Well, I
had thought to lose weight. Apparently, he had the
opposite problem. He couldn’t keep weight on.
Ray:
Steroids?
Fraser: I
think so. Fighters are tested for steroids, so he took the
diuretic to flush his system, which would make the urine
test unreliable.
Ray: Deron was
taking steroids.
Fraser: Which
can cause disorientation and even coma under certain
circumstances.
Ray: So Jamal
went to get his stuff, found the steroids. He was going to
turn in the guy who gave them to Deron, so the guy whacked
him, took the steroids, put the clothes back in the
locker. So all we got to do is find the guy who gave Deron
the steroids.
Fraser: I think
that’s substantially it.
[they stop
walking]
Ray: No. It
can’t be Devlin. He’s what fighting’s all about. He’s the
best. I mean, he...
Fraser: He’s a
trainer who badly needed a champion, Ray.
[into
bullpen]
Welsh: It
sounds very interesting, Detective, with one missing
detail, and that is some proof.
Ray: Yeah, but
if Deron was taking steroids--
Welsh: Yeah,
if. If. That’s a big word.
Fraser: Well,
Francesca is checking with the hospital now.
Welsh: Isn’t it
a little late to be tested?
Fraser: Well
undoubtedly they drew blood when he was admitted. It may
be possible to test that.
Welsh: You
know, there’s a lot of people who think Franco Devlin is
one heck of a guy, and I just might be one of them.
Ray: Yeah, me
too, but--
Welsh: That’s
all right. If he’s dirty, you take him down. You just make
sure you’re right.
Francesca: I
just called the hospital.
Ray: Can they
do the tests?
Francesca: No,
but there’s another way to find out. Ask Deron. He just
woke up.
[hospital
room]
Deron: I don’t
know who killed Jamal, but it wasn’t Franco Devlin.
Ray: You were
taking steroids.
Fraser: Would
you want an innocent man to be convicted of your brother’s
murder?
Deron: Innocent
guys go down all the time.
Ray: Look,
you’re ten times the fighter that Levon Jefferson is or
could be.
Deron: I musta
had a bad night.
Ray: You don’t
care who killed your brother?
Deron: Don’t
care?! He was my brother. He was my broth--
Ray: I know.
Okay. And-and it couldn’t have been Franco Devlin, could
it? I mean, cause that guy was like a lucky rabbit’s foot
to you.
Deron: He
believed in me. Believed that I could be the best.
Ray: But you
had to put the weight on, so he gave you the ‘roids and it
almost killed you.
Deron: He
believed I could be a champion.
Ray: And now
you’re gonna cover for him.
Deron: It
wasn’t Franco. Franco wouldn’t kill anybody.
Fraser: Did he
give you the steroids?
Deron: Just for
some bulk. Not enough to hurt me. I was going to quit in a
couple of weeks.
[gym]
Ray: Devlin,
got some good news. Deron’s awake.
Devlin: Yeah, I
heard. I’m going over to see him just as soon as I’m
finished here.
[puts headgear on
muscular fighter]
Ray: You think
he’s gonna want to keep on fighting?
Devlin: Well,
I’ve seen guys come back from worse.
Ray: Even after
you been pumping them full of steroids?
[fighter
exits]
Devlin: Nice
job. Leaning on a kid when he’s in the hospital.
Fraser:
Actually, he talked with us quite willingly.
Ray: Yeah,
seeing that you put him there.
Devlin: Your
guy got in a lucky punch.
Ray: Man, I
thought you were the best.
Devlin: I am
the best!
Ray: Why’d you
do it?
Devlin: What
did I do, huh? Give that kid a chance to win? You think
that half the guys out here aren’t on that stuff or
whatever else they can get their hands on?
Fraser: A
corrupt system is no justification for personal
corruption, Mr. Devlin.
Devlin: We’re
talking about winning here.
Fraser: I
thought that fighting was about more than just
winning.
Devlin: Not
when you make your living at it.
Ray: Come on,
we can talk downtown.
Devlin: I got
nothing more to say.
Ray: Don’t
worry, I got a lot of questions--
[Mason jumps in and
pushes Devlin out of the gym]
Mason : No, No!! They’re after Franco! They’re after Franco!
[boxers surround Kowalski & Fraser, preventing them
from
following]
Fraser: Ah,
gentlemen.
Ray: These
aren’t gentlemen, Fraser.
Fraser: A quick
word, Ray. [leans
close to Kowalski’s
ear] They,
perhaps, are not aware that we’re police officers. I mean,
they’re probably unfamiliar with my uniform and you
haven’t identified yourself--
Ray: Right.
[pulls out gun and
shows badge on shoulder
holster]
Chicago PD!
Man: You guys
are cops, man?
Fraser: That’s
correct. My name is Constable Benton Fraser, Royal
Canadian Mounted Police--
Ray: Look,
Fraser, don’t bore ‘em.
Fraser: Another
time maybe.
[Kowalski pushes
Fraser out]
[alley]
Devlin: Let me
go, Mason. I know you’re trying to help but it’s the wrong
way.
Ray: Devlin,
you’re under arrest! You too!
Devlin: I’m
sorry. He was just trying to defend me.
Ray: Yeah? Well
we like to call that resisting arrest.
[cuffs Devlin,
throws Fraser another pair of
cuffs]
Fraser, throw these on punchy.
Fraser:
Certainly.
Mason: Let me
take him.
Devlin: It’s
all right, Mason. We’ll get a lawyer and we’ll be out in
an hour.
Ray: On
homicide? I don’t think so.
Devlin:
Homicide?
Mason: Let me
take him!
Devlin: Hey,
look, I gave a kid something to help him bulk up. That’s
it. I didn’t kill anybody.
Ray: You forget
about Jamal?
Devlin: Levon
killed Jamal.
Ray: You did it
because he found out about the steroids.
Devlin: He
did?
Mason: He
didn’t kill nobody.
Fraser: Yes, he
did, Mason, and he’s going to jail for it.
Mason: No! He
wouldn’t do that!
Fraser: Oh, no?
Not even to protect himself?
Mason:
No.
Fraser: No. But
you might, mightn’t you? You might kill someone in order
to protect him.
Devlin:
Mason?
[Mason backs away, tripping over
boxes]
Fraser: You
reopened that cut over your eye yesterday. You didn’t have
that cut the night before the fight.
Ray: He
didn’t?
Fraser: No, he
didn’t, Ray. It was opened up sometime
after the
fight.
Ray: Fighting
Jamal.
Fraser: I think
that’s correct. I’m sure you didn’t intend to kill
him.
Mason: He found
out about the steroids. He was going to tell.
Fraser: It’s
all over, Mason.
Mason:
No!
[runs]
Ray : [to Devlin] Stay put!
[Music: “Cubically
Contained” by The Headstones.]
[Mason flees to the roof; Kowalski and Fraser search for him (giving nose/thumb salute through window); Mason rushes Kowalski & Fraser... all three fall through a skylight into the boxing ring below]
[ring]
[Kowalski stops Fraser from advancing on Mason, who gets
to his feet, grinning madly; Fraser withdraws behind the
ropes leaving Kowalski alone in the ring with Mason...
Mason lands 4 punches and Kowalski stumbles to the
corner]
Ray: Ahh! A
little help here, Fraser?
Fraser: Are you
sure you want that? I mean, this is, after all, an
intensely personal individual journey.
Ray: Yeah.
Help.
Fraser: Okay,
think Zaire, 1974.
[Fraser shoves
Kowalski back in, right into a punch to the
stomach]
Fraser: Ooh.
New Orleans, ‘78.
[Kowalski lands
one]
Fraser: That’s
it.
[Mason lands
five]
Fraser: Think
Chicago.
[Kowalski responds
with a head butt, and Mason goes down]
[bell
rings]
Fraser:
Perfect.
[Fraser raises Kowalski’s hand in victory; Kowalski
weakens and almost falls, but Fraser holds him
up]
Ray:
[to uniformed
cop] I was sticking, I was moving, I was bobbing, I
was weaving. Boom-boom-boom. He comes on strong. Think Ali
‘74. Rope-a-dope. Into the ropes. Uhmp, uhmp, uhmp, uhmp,
uhmp, bang. I win.
[policeman walks
away totally unimpressed]
Fraser: You
know, Ray, he probably just doesn’t appreciate the finer
points of head-butting. Boxing.
[Devlin and Mason
are taken into custody by uniformed police]
Ray
: Devlin was a hell of a trainer.
Fraser: Well,
maybe he can continue to be. You know, one mistake doesn’t
necessarily mean the end of a career. Think about Richard
Nixon [Kowalski
gives him a
look]
That’s probably not a good example.
Ray: Speaking
about mistakes, uh, Fraser. We’re friends, right?
Fraser:
Certainly.
Ray:
Partners?
Fraser:
Absolutely.
Ray: So, you
look in the ring and you see this large goon, uh, trying
to beat your partner and your friend to death with his
bare hands, so what do you generally do?
Fraser: Well,
you help.
Ray:
Right.
Fraser: Oh. Oh,
I see where you’re headed with this. No, in this
particular case, Ray, I knew this was just a continuation
of your earlier match and that you had to go this alone as
part of your mental and spiritual quest.
Ray: Next
time?
Fraser:
Yes?
Ray:
Help.
Fraser:
Understood.
[they walk out, past
several men; Fraser puts on his Stetson, straightens his
coat, and pauses in the doorway]
Fraser: Well,
Ray the bomb, let’s keep it real, 411 and
‘sup.
Ray: Fraser,
what are you doing?
Fraser: I’m
just getting down with my bad self.
[nods to
men]
Houseboys.
[the men shake their
heads and grumble in disbelief]
Ray: Homeboys,
it’s homeboys.
Fraser:
Homeboys. Homeboys.
Ray: He’s
Canadian. He’s a little
funny...
End