Good
For The Soul
[mall]
[Dief grumbles at a large decorated
display]
Fraser: No, I assure you, it is a
polar bear. Well, he lives in a mall. If you keep eating those pizzas we’ll see
how you look inside of a year.
[Dief growls]
Ray: Got it. The last death ray gun
in the store. I almost had to flatten this lady from Oak Park to get it.
Fraser: Ah, who is it for?
Ray: I don’t know, the desk
sergeant’s kid... Maybe I’ll keep it for myself, it’s pretty cool. Watch. [shoots the gun: it makes a loud,
sustained, annoying noise]
Fraser: That’s really irritating,
Ray.
Ray: You didn’t get anything?
Fraser: Well, no, I tend to... Well,
I prefer to make my own presents. Oh my, look at this. Look at this! This is
nice.
Vendor: [selling teddy bears] The
gentleman has a good eye.
Fraser: How much for, uh... How much
for this? [selects a length of wood being
used for decoration]
[Kowalski rolls his eyes & turns
away]
Vendor: It’s a log.
Fraser: Yes. Would five dollars be sufficient?
Vendor: Yeah, sure.
Fraser: [produces a bill from his Stetson]
There you are. Merry Christmas.
Vendor: Merry Christmas.
Ray: Fraser, it’s a log.
Fraser: Marvelous log.
[food court café]
Waiter (Tommy): I’m so sorry!
Man (Warfield): Hey! Hey! What the
hell do you think you’re doing? You got water all over my damn suit!! [throws water in Tommy’s face]
[Fraser & Kowalski rush over, as Tommy
dabs at Warfield’s suit]
Fraser: Excuse me sir. I’m sure this
young man meant no harm.
Warfield: If I was you, I’d walk
away.
Fraser: Well, happily, as soon as
you apologize to this man.
Warfield: [chuckles] I don’t apologize
to anybody, ever.
Fraser: Well, perhaps now would be a
good time to start.
Warfield: Yeah?! [to Tommy] You want an apology?
Tommy: No, I-–
[Warfield slaps him]
Fraser: Very well. You’ll have to
come with me. I’m performing a citizen’s arrest.
Warfield: [chuckles] Get out of my
way.
[Warfield pushes him aside, but Fraser
grabs his arm; thug tries to stop him & Fraser drops him... another thug
pulls out his weapon]
Ray: [gun drawn] Chicago PD, drop
the gun! On the table, drop the gun! Am I going too fast for you?
Thug (Marty): I got a permit--
Ray: Shut up! On the table, get on
the ground!
[Marty complies]
Ray: All of you! On the ground!
Warfield: [sitting] You got any idea
who I am?
Fraser: No, but I’m sure you’ll soon
tell me.
Owner: Mr. Warfield, I am sorry...
Ray: Warfield?
Owner: Look, look, please, this is
just all a misunderstanding.
Tommy: It’s not my fault.
Owner: Look, we don’t want any trouble here.
Gentlemen, please, no trouble?
Fraser: It wasn’t your fault. You
made a mistake, and this man committed a crime.
Ray: Fraser. [aside] Do you know who that
is?
Fraser: Apparently his name is
Warfield, and...
Ray: He’s one of the biggest mob
bosses in Chicago.
Fraser: Oh.
[Warfield & thugs are lead away; the
patrons & staff of the café have been detained]
Fraser: Ladies & gentlemen, we greatly
appreciate your cooperation. We thank you for your patience. Now all of you
were witness to a crime. And if you will be so kind as to step forward one by
one, we’ll be very happy to take your statements.
[silence]
Fraser: [to
Kowalski] Apparently no one saw
anything.
Ray: Really, Fraser. I am shocked
and amazed.
Fraser: Anything, ladies and
gentlemen. Anything that you remember at all. Anything.
Waiter: What would be the point?
Fraser: The point would be justice.
Waiter: Where the hell do you come
from?
Ray: Canada. And zeal’s a big thing
up there, so this is definitely a zeal thing.
Waiter: Yeah, well maybe there they
got justice. But here we got brains.
Fraser: This victim was a fellow
employee, a friend of yours. I can’t believe that none of you are willing to
make a statement.
[the crowd murmurs]
Fraser: Ladies and gentlemen, I...I really don’t
mean to be condescending, but justice cannot exist in a democracy without the
support and cooperation of an informed citizenry. If you let this man walk away
from his crimes, you not only let down this entire city, but you encourage him
to continue in his criminal endeavors.
Waiter2 (Frank): Maybe we’re afraid.
Fraser: Of what?
Frank: Warfield.
Fraser: There’s nothing to be afraid
of. There are laws.
Frank: Not working too good as far
as I can see.
Fraser: Well, they will work, if you
all do your part.
[silence]
Fraser: I thank you kindly for your time.
[Fraser, then Kowalski exit]
[27th precinct]
Reporter1: Lieutenant, I hear you
have Willie Warfield locked up.
Welsh: Look, I just got here, I
don’t know what’s happening yet.
Reporter2: Do you think you finally
have something to stick to Slick Willie?
Welsh: A couple of my best men
brought him in. If they believe they have something, I gotta believe ‘em.
Reporter1: What are you charging him
with?
[Welsh’s office]
Welsh: Slapping a busboy? You
brought Warfield in here for slapping a busboy?
Fraser: Yes, sir. Is that a problem?
Welsh: It’s a nothing beef,
Constable. He’s already walked on four murder one and conspiracy charges. Think
he’s gonna go down for spitting on the sidewalk?
Fraser: Well, no, sir. I think he’s
going to ‘go down,’ as you put it, for assault.
Welsh: The kid won’t even press
charges.
Fraser: But we both witnessed it.
Welsh: [sighs] Detective, would you
explain to the Constable how the system works, all right? I gotta go deal with
a high-priced lawyer. [exits]
Ray: Lieutenant’s right, Fraser.
Fraser: That’s an explanation?
Ray: No, it goes a little something
like this. Um. Warfield’s a big mob guy.
[they walk through the bullpen]
Fraser: Whom I assume you’d like to see in jail.
Ray: Whom we’d love to see in jail, and we’ve been trying to put him
there for years.
Fraser: Well, we witnessed a crime.
This would seem to be an ideal opportunity to arre--
What?
Ray: Two words. Two words: money and
connections.
Fraser: He is a criminal!
Ray: Look. We witnessed a slap in
the face. The kid’s not going to sign anything so we have no complaint.
Warfield has no priors because he’s never been convicted. And he’s got lawyers
that get paid more in one hour than we make in a week. This is never going to
court.
Fraser: Because he’s rich and he’s
powerful.
Ray: You *were* paying attention.
Fraser: It’s wrong.
Ray: It’s wrong, it’s very very wrong, but that’s the world we live in. That’s the
system we work under.
Fraser: But this is the problem,
Ray. It shouldn’t be about a system. It should be about justice.
Ray: Yeah, in a perfect world. In a
perfect world. In a truly perfect world. And have you seen one of those around
here lately, Fraser? ‘Cause I know I-- [Fraser
walks away] Fraser. Don’t get all
moody.
[Frannie’s desk; she’s topping a
Christmas tree]
Dewey: Frannie. What the hell’s
that?
Francesca: It’s my Santa Claus. I
made him in art class.
Dewey: You took a class to make
that? [keeps walking]
[Dief gazes at Ante, the poodle]
Francesca: I wish someone would look at me like
that. Hi, Fraser.
Fraser: Ah. Francesca.
Francesca: How do you like the
Christmas tree?
Fraser: Oh, it’s very nice.
Francesca: Yeah. And the Santa?
Fraser: Very Santa-like.
Francesca: I made it in art class.
Fraser: Ah.
Francesca: Hey, did you get a name off the tree yet?
Fraser: I beg your pardon?
Francesca: Well we’re exchanging
gifts at the end of the week, you know, for whatever name you get?
Fraser: Ah. [selects a name randomly]
Excuse me, Tommy?
Tommy: Why don’t you just take a gun
and shoot me now?
Fraser: Well, that would be
homicide, Tommy, and what I imagine you’re actually suggesting is that Mr.
Warfield would have you killed if you filed a complaint--
Tommy: I’m not suggesting nothing
about nothing. Nothing happened. I didn’t see nothing. Nobody hit me. I wasn’t
even there.
Francesca: Yeah, this is his
statement. [wags a blank paper]
Fraser: There were a number of
witnesses who saw him strike you.
Tommy: What witnesses?
Fraser: Well, unfortunately, we were
unable to persuade them to come in.
Tommy: I wonder why.
Fraser: *I* saw him strike you.
Tommy: Well, you got bad eyesight as
far as I’m concerned. Can I go now?
Fraser: Yes.
Warfield: [to lawyer] Make sure you
spell his name right. [points at Fraser]
Ray: In the harassment suit! He’s
already named the Chicago PD, Lieutenant Welsh, and me.
Warfield: Hey, did I miss anybody?
Welsh: Come on Warfield, you know
it’s just a nuisance lawsuit.
Lawyer: Mr. Warfield’s been arrested
four times by this department, Lieutenant, and four times he’s been exonerated
by a jury of his peers. Now if that’s not a clear pattern of harassment, I
don’t know what it is.
Ray: It’s a clear pattern of being
mobbed up. He pays people off and kills witnesses.
[they all go into Welsh’s office, but Welsh
closes door on Fraser]
Warfield: Hey...
Marty: You’re his lawyer, isn’t that defamation
of character? How would you like a little lawsuit of your own?
Ray: I’m sorry Mr. Scumbag, I missed that. You
want what? A kick in the teeth?!
Welsh: Uh, Detective, please.
Lawyer: You know Lieutenant, this
particular charge is so ridiculous, it doesn’t even bear discussing. Now maybe
if you drop the charges against Mr. Warfield, we could forgo the legal action?
Ray: Hey scumbag, maybe you’d like a kick in the teeth.
Welsh: Detective, please, you got
some paperwork you gotta do or something, please?
[he ushers Kowalski out; Fraser enters]
Fraser: Mr. Warfield.
Lawyer: [to
Warfield] Not a word.
Fraser: You know what you did is wrong.
Warfield: Ho-ho!
Welsh: Constable, please, I think you’ve done
enough already.
Fraser: Yes, sir. [exits]
[Frannie’s desk]
Francesca: [on phone] Oh, yeah. I
don’t-I don’t think I could do that. I’ll have to let you know....Okay. [hangs up]
Fraser: Anything wrong, Francesca?
Francesca: No, it’s uh, my art
class. Next term we’re supposed to study nudes and I just really don’t think I
could be in a class with anybody nude.
Fraser: You know, Francesca, as
beautiful and natural as the human body is, I...I understand completely what
you mean.
[Frannie sighs, agreeing & dismisses the
topic]
Fraser: I wonder if you could help me with some
information.
Francesca: Sure, what’s up?
Fraser: I need to know everything
you have on Mr. Warfield. His prior arrests, surveillance reports, known
accomplices, whether he posses in the nude...
[pause]
Francesca: Was that a joke?
Fraser: Yes.
Francesca: Oh! That was so good! [laughs]
Fraser: Oh. Thank you.
[Warfield’s club; a limo arrives, and the
bouncer opens the door]
Bouncer: Mr. Warfield.
Warfield: Let the young ladies in.
Bouncer: Certainly, sir.
[several women follow Warfield inside]
Voices: Hey, hey, come on... We’ve been standing
out here for hours.
Bouncer: [to Fraser] Man, you are out
there.
Fraser: [looks around] Oh, me!
Bouncer: The outfit? I mean a lot of
people do some nutso stuff to get in here, but that is beyond belief.
Fraser: Well, I believe there were a
number of people ahead of me. These two gentlemen, for example, this fellow
here--
Bouncer: Look, you want to get in or
not?
Fraser: Very well. [to men]
I’m terribly sorry.
Bouncer: Come on.
Voices: I’m outta here... just to
get in... that’s what I’d like to know...
[inside the club. Music: ‘On Wit Da Show’ by Kardinal Offishall.]
Fraser: [to woman leaving] I’m
sorry.
Lady: Excuse me!
Fraser: I’ll go right...left...left. [they pass successfully] Thank you kindly.
Woman: Whoa, handsome, want to
dance?
Fraser: Ah.
[he hands his Stetson to a bystander,
dances a few steps with her, then twirls her away; he collects his hat then
walks toward a tunnel, where two men stand in his path]
Fraser: Ah, gentlemen. I wonder if
one of you would be so kind as to use your wireless radio frequency
communication devices to let Mr. Warfield know that Constable Benton Fraser is
here to see him.
Guard1 (Johnny): You know the boss?
Fraser: We have met, yes.
[Warfield’s office]
Johnny: [voice] Mr. Warfield, we got a guy out here in a
red suit says he knows you.
Warfield: You’re kidding me. The
Mountie? Nuts. Let him come in.
[club]
Johnny: All right. [stands aside]
Fraser: Thank you kindly.
[Warfield’s office]
Warfield: Okay, you’re in. What do you want?
Fraser: I’ve come to ask you to
confess to the assault charge.
Warfield: Confess. You want me to
confess.
Fraser: Yes.
Warfield: This is a joke, right?
Fraser: Oh, I think you’ll feel
better.
Warfield: I feel fine.
Fraser: Well possibly, but I think
you would discover there’s a lot of truth in the old aphorism that confession
is good for the soul.
Welsh: Confession is good for
losers. Is this an official police visit or what?
Fraser: No, I have no jurisdiction
here. I’m simply trying to see that justice is done.
Warfield: So. You walk in here to my
place of business, you insult me to my face, but you’re doing it on your own
time? Is that what you’re telling me?
Fraser: Well, I don’t see that an
appeal to your sense of justice is an insult. But on balance, you are correct.
Warfield: Get him outta here. And
make sure he don’t come back.
Fraser: I think you will discover
that I don’t dissuade easily.
Warfield: Well, dissuade him hard!
Marty: He’s a cop, Willie.
Warfield: I know what he is.
Fraser: I think what your man is
suggesting is that it’s uncommon for organized crime to use violence on police
officers.
Marty: He’s got a point. We don’t
need the heat.
Warfield: Do it!
Marty: Come on.
[Marty & Thug escort Fraser out]
Marty: Reggie. You and Johnny see this gentleman
out.
[Reggie & Johnny usher Fraser to the
alley; Fraser dodges a lunge from Reggie & throws him to the ground, ducks
a punch from Johnny & punches him in the face... Reggie pulls out a gun]
Reggie: Now we’re gonna do this--
Ray: I got a better idea. Drop the
gun. Chicago PD. Up against the wall.
Fraser: I’ve been expecting you,
Ray.
Ray: Huh?
Fraser: Glad you came.
[Kowalski & Fraser escort the
handcuffed Johnny & Reggie to the GTO]
Ray: What were you thinking? Welsh told you to
stay out of this. *I* told you to stay out of this. Next thing I know you’re in
a punch-up with a couple of Warfield’s goons.
Reggie: Goons? I ain’t no damn goon.
Fraser: I didn’t feel I had a
choice, Ray.
Reggie: Actually we’re licensed
security agents, pal.
Johnny: I have a diploma in
hospitality services. We do not appreciate being called goons.
Ray: You always have a choice,
Fraser.
Johnny: You could be looking at a
lawsuit.
Ray: You could be looking at my fist
if you don’t put a sock in it.
Reggie: That’s intimidation.
Ray: Yeah. I hope so. Get in the
car. [to Fraser] You had a choice. You could have stayed
at the consulate, you could have stayed at the station, or–or–or--
Fraser: Ray, I hope to be able to convince Mr.
Warfield to do the right thing.
Ray: He’s a wise guy. He’s never
done the right thing his entire life!
Fraser: Well, maybe now is the time
to start.
[Johnny & Reggie crack up]
[27th precinct; Frannie climbs
onto ladder]
Francesca: Okay, Dief. Wreath.
[Dief climbs up a few rungs, and Frannie
takes a wreath from around his neck]
Francesca: Thank you. [hangs it on a light fixture]
Welsh: Miss Vecchio, don’t you think you’re
overdoing it a little bit?
Francesca: I’m just trying to make
the place look festive, sir.
Welsh: It’s a police station, it’s
not a shopping mall.
Francesca: It’s only once a year!
Welsh: Thank God. More murders, more
suicides, families tearing each other’s throats out. Fourth differential
between what you take in and what you put out. Fat guys in red suits...
[Fraser & Kowalski have brought in
Reggie & Johnny]
Frank: Constable Fraser, can we talk?
Fraser: Of course. Perhaps somewhere
private.
Frank: Me and Tommy have been
thinking about what you said, about justice and all.
Tommy: Just thinking is all.
[they go into an interrogation room]
Frank: We do this testify thing, we
get protection?
Fraser: I’ll do everything I can to
insure your safety.
Frank: What does that mean?
Fraser: I can’t pretend that this is
without risks. Mr. Warfield is apparently a violent man--
Tommy: See? I told you.
Frank: And like I told you, guys
have been pushing me around my whole damn life. Don’t say nothing, you’ll lose
your job. Don’t say nothing, he’ll kick your butt. Don’t say nothing! I’m an
old man and I still never said nothing. You don’t want to be my age and feel
like that.
Tommy: We do this, I doubt I see 20.
Frank: The guy’s going to kill you
for a slap in the face? He’s smarter than that. So, maybe you better stay out
of it and I’ll be a witness. That work?
Fraser: It’ll help.
Frank: Let’s get out of here.
Tommy: Hang on. We get protection,
right?
[corridor]
Stella Kowalski: Protection?? If
Constable Fraser wants to offer protection, let the RCMP supply it.
Ray: Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t
think Yuletide is a great time to get shot in the head and dumped in the river.
Stella: Ray, in the spirit of
Christmas, drop dead.
Fraser: [reading a file] December
1963, breaking and entering; August 1965, car theft; October 1966, assault;
December 1966, robbery. Every charge dropped for one reason or another. It’s
not surprising Mr. Warfield thinks he’s above the law. Perhaps if someone along
the way had been willing to prosecute him he might not have become the hardened
criminal that he is today.
Welsh: I think it’s a little late
for that, Constable.
Ray: What about the assault on
Fraser? Warfield called that, can’t we make that stick?
Welsh: They’re claiming Fraser was
drunk and disorderly.
Ray: Disorderly? His hair’s not even
disorderly.
Fraser: Well, it can be sometimes.
Stella. They’ve got twelve witnesses
who’ll swear that he was threatening Warfield. Constable, no one gets convicted
on a first time assault that doesn’t result in actual bodily harm. My God, you
can practically beat someone to death
in this city and not get convicted. I’m sorry.
Frank: You get our protection?
Fraser: In a manner of speaking yes.
Shall we?
[they exit past Warfield, who “shoots” at
Tommy with his finger]
Tommy: You better have our
protection.
Fraser: It’s just a finger, son. It’s not loaded.
[consulate; Fraser’s office]
Fraser: Here we are.
Frank: This is the safe house?
Fraser: Couldn’t be safer. I also
have several bedrolls here--
Tommy: I thought we’d get a hotel
room, like in the movies. Maybe a nice-looking police woman to look after us.
Fraser: Well, here comes one now.
[Thatcher enters, carrying two glasses
and a bottle on a tray]
Thatcher: Fraser, I thought perhaps a little
seasonal--
Frank: Don’t mind if I do. [takes one glass, Tommy takes the other]
Thatcher: --cheer. [aside]
What are you doing bringing homeless people here? It’s Christmas,
for God’s sakes!
Fraser: I realize that, sir, but
these friends of mine are... Well, they’re needy. And with your permission, I
thought they could stay here for the next couple of days.
Thatcher: This is that Canadian
consulate, not a homeless shelter.
Fraser: I understand that. Suffice
it to say that there are issues of justice and individual liberty at play here.
And it is Christmas.
Thatcher: My point exactly. I’ll
leave this to you for now. But tomorrow you, Turnbull and I will sit down and
discuss the decorations for the consulate. What color bulbs to use, the tinsel.
Oh! I found some fabulous gold ribbon for the tree. And, of course, spirit of
giving, peace on Earth, blah, blah, blah. [exits]
Frank: We gonna sleep here?
Fraser: Yes.
Frank: No offense, but I’m getting a
little too old to sleep on the floor. Maybe I should go on home.
Fraser: Well I’m uh, I’m not
actually sure that’s-that’s a good idea.
[music is coming from the closet]
Frank: Dog snore?
Fraser: No. Well, yes.
[Dief grumbles]
Fraser: Well, you do. You know, perhaps you
gentlemen could take him for a couple of laps in the hallway. He tends to sleep
much more soundly after a little exercise. Uh, Dief.
[they exit; Fraser goes into the closet]
[Robert Fraser’s office; several men stand
at easels, painting. Music: ‘Watching the Apples Grow’ by Stan Rogers.]
Fraser: Dad, I have guests.
Robert Fraser: Well, pardon us for
living!
Fraser: What’s going on here?
Robert Fraser: Well, the group are
making up some gifts for the orphans. Brighten up their Christmas.
Fraser: You have orphans in the
afterworld?
Robert Fraser: Well, not really.
They’re just kinda lost. The Group of Six have always been known for their
charity.
Fraser: Dad, there was nev-- There *was* a Group of Seven.
Robert Fraser: No, not in our group.
Always six. Except for that one time we let in Rene Tibeau,
but he got into the turks.
[Fraser shuts off music]
Robert Fraser: So, what are you hoping to get these Wisemen to do?
Fraser: Their duty.
Robert Fraser: Theirs or yours? You
know, son, not everyone thinks the way you think. Not everyone has your
dedication. Your commitment. Your-your, well, frankly, your rigidity.
Fraser: I’m only doing what you
taught me.
Robert Fraser: Well, I learned a few
things since I died.
Fraser: Such as?
Robert Fraser: Well, I wish I’d
spent more Christmases with you. [pause] And the branch that cannot bend, must
break.
Fraser: Are you saying I should give
up on this?
Robert Fraser: No, of course not.
Some trails are solitary and must be taken alone.
[knock knock knock]
Robert Fraser: That’ll be for you.
[Fraser goes to the door; Robert Fraser
gazes up at Christmas tree, topped with an Mountie angel]
Tommy: [voice] You okay?
Fraser: [voice] Yes. Yes, I just
can’t seem to locate those darn Hudson blankets.
[Tommy points to shelf above Fraser]
Fraser: Ah. Eagle eyes, son.
Tommy: Turnbull said to give you
this package.
Fraser: Ah, very good. Huh. The
Yukon. [pulls out a log] Marvelous. Where’s Frank?
Tommy: Went home. Said there was no
way he could sleep on the floor. Said not to worry...
Fraser: Turnbull! [to Tommy]
Do you have Frank’s address?
Tommy: Sure, um, 414 Wilson Avenue.
Turnbull: Sir? [appears, wearing a garlanded cowboy hat]
Fraser: You’re out of uniform,
Turnbull.
Turnbull: Yes, I am. You see, I was
upstairs listening to my Clint Black Christmas album, getting in the festive
spirit, if that’s all right.
Fraser: I see. I want you to lock up
after I go. You don’t let anyone in until I return. I want you to guard this
man with your life.
Turnbull: Trouble, sir?
Fraser: Of a kind.
Turnbull: Trouble’s my middle name.
Fraser: Right. Well, Tommy, you’re
in good uh... Well, you’re in hands.
Turnbull: Sir.
[Fraser exits]
Turnbull: You look like a natural baritone. Do you
know the words to “Santa Drives a Pickup”? [sings
(& dances)] Oh, the elves topped up the gas tank/
Santa climbed
aboard/
He turned that
engine over/
On that ‘67
Ford/
Oh, Santa drives
a pick up/
The reindeers
ride in back/
Look out for
that fat man/
He’ll be coming
down your stack!
Oh, Santa
drives a pick up (Come On!)/
The reindeers ride in back/
Look out for
that fat man...
[street; a sedan follows Frank, two guys
follow on foot... Frank starts running... Fraser grabs him]
Frank: Ohh!
Fraser: You’ll be all right. [to men] Gentlemen, I’m
afraid I’ll have to ask you to stop.
Guy: Stop this!
[Fraser punches him; car honks; both guys
get in & the sedan speeds away]
Frank: I can’t do this. I can’t.
Fraser: I understand.
Frank: I’m no hero. I’m sorry.
Fraser: It’s all right. I’ll walk
you home.
[consulate; Fraser is carving a bear out
of wood, humming ‘Santa Drives a Pickup;’ Tommy wakes up]
Fraser: Good morning. Sleep well?
Tommy: The dog snores like Mike Ditka with a sinus condition.
Fraser: Yes, I know.
Tommy: Did you find Frank?
Fraser: Yes.
Tommy: Where is he?
Fraser: He said he had a sister in
Waukegan. I believe he’s staying with her.
Tommy: He split?
Fraser: I’m afraid so.
[27th precinct]
Dewey: What name did you get?
Fraser: I don’t follow.
Dewey: From the card tree. Who do
you have to buy for?
Fraser: Oh, uh...I believe it is [checks] Ray.
Dewey: Perfect. Let’s trade.
Fraser: Trade?
Dewey: Yeah, see I got Welsh, and I can’t
buy for the lieutenant because I work for him. If I buy small, I’m a miser. If
I buy big, then I’m kissing up to him. So it’s lose-lose.
Robert Fraser: Office politics. Even
at Christmas! Not for me. Not in the good old days. Christmas Eve? Give me a
wide open vista, and a starry sky and a good sled dog.
Dewey: It’s not that big a deal.
Fraser: And what about me and
mother?
Dewey: Your mother? Well get her a
couple of cases of hairspray. Listen, you see, *Ray* [switches cards] on the
other hand is no threat to me. He has nothing so he’s easy to buy for. But the
lieutenant... you don’t even work for him, you can do whatever you want. It’s
win-win. Thanks. [exits]
Fraser: Very well. [under his breath] Win-win,
win-win.
[into bullpen; Robert is scrutinizing
card tree]
Fraser: What are you doing?
Robert Fraser: I was just wondering
if my name was on the list here.
Fraser: I would think that unlikely,
since you are dead.
Robert Fraser: Huh. [they walk down the corridor] Back in ‘55 when I was heading a detachment
up in Reliance. Wasn’t much of a detachment really, just me and Delbert
Foxworth. Well, Norbert Weatherwax got in the sauce, went on a tear, tore up
half the town. I sent Foxworth out to bring him back. He came back
empty-handed. A couple days later I found out that Weatherwax
was married to Foxworth’s half sister, Etta. I guess
he was--
Fraser: I don’t mean to interrupt,
but does this story have a moral?
Robert Fraser: Oh yeah. Sometimes
you have to do it yourself. That’s the moral, son.
[they stop by Frannie and her ladder]
Fraser: Ah, Francesca.
Francesca: Hi, Fraser. Mistletoe.
Fraser: Oh, so it is. Right. Right.
[he runs off quickly; Robert kisses her on
her cheek... she brushes her face, as if something tickled her]
[Warfield’s club]
Warfield: Ya got brass ones, I’ll
give you that.
Fraser: [looks down at uniform buttons] Oh
yes. Yes, I do. They take quite a lot of work to keep polished.
Warfield: [chuckles] I hear the
charges against me got dropped again.
Fraser: I anticipated that.
Warfield: Good. You come by to
apologize?
Fraser: No, sir. I came by to ask
you to reconsider your confession.
Warfield: I had a guy like you work
for me once. Bruno Hiltz. Big Dutch guy. He got drunk
one night. Stood on the track, tried to stare down the 3:10 to Skokie. They had
to pick him up with a shovel.
Fraser: Sir, you hurt an innocent
man. I can’t let that go. So I will continue to gather evidence. In the
meantime, it’s come to my attention that you’re engaged in a variety of
activities that may not flourish with an officer of the law present.
Warfield: Is that a threat?
Fraser: No. Merely stating the
obvious.
Warfield: Well let me suggest
something even more obvious. One good
whack in the head with a hammer, you ain’t dead, but there’ll be days when you
wish you were.
Fraser: Oh. Would that be a
ball-peen or a claw hammer, sir?
Warfield: That would be a big hammer.
Fraser: I see.
[Warfield’s office; knock knock knock]
Warfield: Come in. What?
Marty: Eddie just called from his
car. He wants to meet somewhere else.
Warfield: What, somewhere else? We
gotta have a sit-down, me and Eddie. Where else we gonna do it?
Marty: Eddie won’t come inside with
that Mountie out front.
[Marty turns on outside camera: Fraser
loiters in front; Warfield grumbles]
[sidewalk]
Eddie: I want to freeze my big ones,
Willie, I go to a Bears game.
Warfield: I could use the fresh air.
I been cooped up all day.
Eddie: Cooped up by cops, I hear.
You been downtown a couple times.
Warfield: Nothing to worry about.
Eddie: A couple of times don’t sound
like nothing to me. The boys are wondering what’s going on.
Warfield: Boys can mind their own
business. That ain’t what we got to talk about. We got to talk about Vinnie the
Hole. Ever since he started running the east side our take’s been down 30%.
Eddie: I got no problem with Vinnie.
What I got a problem with is that funny-looking cop that’s been hassling you.
Warfield: He’s nothing. He’s a joke.
Eddie: Better start laughing. [gets in his car] Let’s get out of here.
[Warfield’s office]
Warfield: You’re a lawyer, file a
suit or something.
Lawyer: He’s on a public street.
Warfield: He’s harassing me!
Lawyer: He’s just standing there,
Willie.
Warfield: Interfering with the
conduct of my business!
Lawyer: That’s an area I don’t think
we should open up.
Warfield: What the hell, I’m
supposed to let him stand there? I got people I gotta talk to!
Lawyer: Suppose the telephone’s out
of the question?
Warfield: I can’t do business on the
phone.
Lawyer: Look, Willie, this is really
difficult to explain in a courtroom!
Marty: I got an idea. Cop to it.
Warfield: What?
Marty: It’s nothing. The worst you can get, the absolute worst is a fine. So,
do it, get it over with, lose the Mountie, and get back to work!
Lawyer: You know, Marty’s actually
making sense, Willie. The money you pay me, I should’ve thought of it.
Warfield: Willie Warfield don’t cop
to nothing. Nothing! Never, never, never!! Do you understand me?!
Lawyer: Come on Willie, this is
crazy! You know, I heard you had him attacked. You do that, and you’re making
it really difficult for me to protect you.
Marty: Logan’s right, Willie, and
he’s not the only one. The other guys feel the same way.
Warfield: What the hell? You two
developing some sort of backbone all of a sudden or what?
Marty: You’re supposed to be running
a business here. Now why don’t you just--
[Warfield slaps him]
Warfield: What do I pay you two
bastards for? Now you get him out of there! Now!
[outside the club]
Fraser: [to Dief] You know, you
really have to stop complaining. You’ve been on stakeouts before, you know what
it’s like.
[Dief grumbles]
Fraser: Yes, I know you’d rather be with her, but
it’s sort of a cliché, don’t you think? I mean, wolf meets poodle, poodle hooks
wolf, wolf liquidates his assets. It can only end in tears.
[GTO pulls up; Dief barks]
Fraser: Afternoon, Ray.
Ray: Fraser. Welsh got a call from
the chief. Chief got a call from downtown. Warfield’s lawyer said he wants you
out of here.
Fraser: I see.
Ray: Look, you know me and the
system are like this, Fraser. [pulls
fists apart] But this time you’re
wrong, they’re right.
Fraser: I don’t think I am wrong,
Ray. We both saw him assault that man.
Ray: Look, even if by some miracle
Warfield were to cop to the whole thing? He’s gonna get a slap on the wrist.
Fraser: Justice will have been done.
Ray: Justice? How is that justice?
The man is a killer. He’s gonna get a fifty dollar fine. Look, don’t you get
this? This makes his harassment crap look legit. I mean, what if somehow we get
a real beef on him? You know, and Warfield’s lawyers get involved, this could
screw the whole thing up somehow.
Fraser: Ray, just think about it.
Two good men: one who should be accorded the respect due his age, one little
more than a boy. They are frightened. They’re frightened and ashamed. And they
have good reason to be frightened. They don’t think they can stand up to the Warfields of this world. Well, I can. And I will.
Ray: Fraser, get in the car.
Fraser: I’m sorry, Ray.
Ray: Look Fraser, I am a cop and I
am ordering you to get in that car.
Fraser: Are you arresting me?
Ray: Yes.
Fraser: On what charge?
Ray: On the... Look, I don’t want to
have to be forced to use force upon you.
Fraser: No, you won’t.
Ray: You’re right.
Fraser: I know. Listen, could you do
me a favor and uh, do you mind dropping Diefenbaker off at the consulate on
your way back to the station? He seems to find all of this sort of boring.
Ray: Look, you know what you are?
You’re selfish. You’re selfish. You get a thing stuck in your head, you won’t
let it go no matter hard it is on anybody else. You’re even boring the dog.
Fraser: He’s not actually bored.
He’s in love.
Ray: Ha. Dogs have all the fun, huh?
Fraser: Yeah.
Ray: Look. Christmas brings out the
worst in people.
Fraser: Hmm. Drive safely. [whistles, and waves goodbye]
[outside Warfield’s club]
Voice: Help! Somebody help me!
[Fraser runs to the alley to find two men
dragging a woman away]
Fraser: Hold it!
[‘victim’ laughs; thugs in masks surround
Fraser]
Fraser: I assume Mr. Warfield is unhappy with my
presence here.
Thug: Let’s just say you pissed off
the wrong guy.
[Music: ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’
sung by Dutch Robinson (a cappella).
Fraser is beaten up... the thugs run off, and Fraser limps back to the
sidewalk]
Bouncer: Good evening, Mr. Warfield.
Warfield: [to Fraser] See? There’s
only one law that counts. Only one rule. Hardest guy wins. Until you get that
straight, you’re just a loser.
Fraser: Understood.
[Warfield exits]
[27th precinct]
[Frannie makes final adjustments to her
tree and sings ‘Jingle Bells’]
Francesca: [to Dief] How cute would you
look in this! [puts a wreath around his
neck] Oh yes, you’re so cute! [looks up]
Oh my God!
Dewey: What happened?
[Kowalski helps Fraser walk in]
Ray: I don’t know. Got a call from one of the
bouncers at Warfield’s club.
Huey: Shouldn’t he be at the
hospital?
Ray: Wouldn’t go.
[Welsh’s office]
Francesca: God, Fraser, does it
hurt?
Dewey: Probably no more than being hit by a
truck.
Fraser: No, it’s fine, Francesca.
Francesca: Well, maybe you should
take your shirt off. [tends to Fraser’s
wounds]
Ray: Frannie!
Francesca: Well, he could have
internal injuries.
Huey: If it’s internal, you can’t
see them.
Francesca: Yeah, I know. I could
palpitate them.
Fraser: Do you mean palpate?
Francesca: Yeah, you know, feel
around a little.
Ray: Personally I think he’s
suffered enough, Frannie.
Welsh: Are you feeling better,
Constable?
Fraser: Uh, much better, thank you,
sir. Thanks to Francesca’s excellent care.
Welsh: Good, good. I’ve told Ms.
Kowalski the story.
Ray: So we’re gonna nail Warfield?
Stella: Unfortunately there’s
nothing to tie the attack on Constable Fraser to Mr. Warfield.
Ray: Nothing?! He was attacked right
outside of Warfield’s Club.
Stella: Yeah, and Lincoln got shot
in Ford’s Theater. Didn’t mean Mr. Ford did it.
Ray: Yeah, was Ford mobbed up?
Welsh: Can you identify any of the
assailants, Constable?
Fraser: No, they were...they were
all wearing masks.
Ray: Look, we know that they were
Warfield’s guys.
Stella: Knowing something and proving
it are two different things.
Ray: Well, how ‘bout we just go
roust ‘em up anyway?
Stella: More harassment? Forget it,
Ray.
Ray: Stella. I was thinking maybe if
you had some time we could have some eggnog, and maybe trim the tree...
Stella: Yeah, and I can shoot
moonbeams out my--
Welsh: Miss Kowalski, thank you.
[Stella exits]
Ray: She was never that big on Christmas. Or
me, for that matter.
Welsh: Constable, I’m afraid we
haven’t been too much of a help to you on this one.
Fraser: I’ve come to believe that I
have unrealistic expectations.
Ray: A little impractical maybe
but...
Fraser: No, Ray, you were right. You
can’t beat the system.
Ray: Let me give you a ride home.
Fraser: No, I think I’ll walk. A walk’ll do me good.
Francesca: Uh, Fraze, hey. Take it
easy, okay?
Fraser: Understood.
[street; carolers sing ‘Silent Night’]
Fraser: That was selfish, I know. I
put my feelings above everyone else’s. Dad? Oh, you’re ignoring me now, that’s
great. Just great.
[Robert emerges from the group of carolers
& joins Fraser, still singing]
Fraser: Oh, hi. You think I’m being selfish and
single-minded?
Robert Fraser: Oh! You’re more than that, son. You’re
obsessive, overbearing, possibly even arrogant.
Fraser: Well, thanks a lot, Dad.
That-that makes me feel a whole lot better.
Robert Fraser: But you’ve been
right. [goes back to the carolers,
singing] Tender and mild...
Fraser: [sings] Sleep in heavenly peace...
Ray: Hey, Fraser.
[GTO pulls to a stop]
Fraser: You know, Ray, I really
would rather walk.
Ray: Well, you can walk all you
want, Fraser, but uh... there’s something I wanna tell ya. And it’s not the
easiest thing for me to say, but...I’m proud of you.
Fraser: You are?
Ray: Yeah. You’ve been right about
this thing all along.
Fraser: I have?
Welsh: [from backseat] Yes, you
have, Constable. We’ve just been too hung up on all this bureaucratic crap to
give you the help you really needed.
Fraser: You know, sir, I understand
that you have to contend with practicalities.
Welsh: To hell with them. Hop in.
Fraser: Well I’m--
Ray: Ride shotgun.
Fraser: Okay. [gets in]
[Music: “Mind” by Vibrolux.]
[Warfield’s club]
Bouncer: Nah, nah, nah. Forget it.
No way you guys getting back in here again.
Welsh: He’s with us. [flashes badge]
[Welsh, Kowalski, Huey, Dewey, Fraser enter
club]
Bouncer: Whoa. Whoa.
[inside; stairs]
Ray: [to drinking girl] Got some
ID?
Girl: What?
Ray: You got some ID?
Girl: What?
Ray: ID!
Girl: Oh, are we going to play Cops
and Robbers?
Ray: Nah. Just cops. [flashes badge] You better be over 21.
[bar; a woman snorts a line of powder; Huey
stops her & flashes badge]
[lounge; young women fawn over group of
older men]
Welsh: Welcome, shoe salesmen of
America. I see you’ve come to sample some of our local delicacies. I haven’t
seen these women together since I worked south side vice. Hey, enough of this
stuff, we’ve had it. Cut the music. Cut the music!
[Warfield’s office]
Warfield: Get Eddie in here
tomorrow.
Marty: I don’t think he’s coming.
Warfield: Why the hell not?
Marty: I hear he’s got something
going with Vinnie the Hole.
Warfield: He got something going
with Vinnie, he’s dead.
Marty: What it is, Mr. Warfield, you
got to start getting on top of things, ‘cause they’re like sharks out there,
and they’re smelling blood in the water.
Warfield: I’m starting to smell you,
Marty.
[phone rings]
Warfield: [answering] What?
Thug: [voice] Yo boss, we got cops
out here! They got--
[Warfield hangs up and storms out]
[dance floor; club is now empty, except for
phalanx of cops]
Warfield: I’ll have all your badges for this!
Welsh: We’re only enforcing Illinois-–
Warfield: You’re only doing this to harass me!!
Ray: Nobody’s harassing you.
Dewey: Yeah, we’re cleaning up the
riff-raff hanging out in your club.
Huey: Kind of doing you a favor.
Warfield: [right in Fraser’s face] Screw
you!
Ray: Look, we can come back here
tomorrow night.
Welsh: And the night after.
Warfield: Not after my lawyers are
finished with you!
Welsh: That could take some time.
That would be *very* bad for business.
Ray: You got a lot of other places
that we can visit. Think about it.
Warfield: Well, maybe you don’t walk
out of here tonight.
Ray: You really want to try that?
‘Cause we’re good to go.
Fraser: You’ve abused the system for
a long time, Mr. Warfield. You distorted the law and turned it against its own
interests. You’ve used tricks and force and bullying and it’s worked.
[Warfield groans]
Fraser: But eventually good people
do stand up.
Dewey: Yeah, Fraser! Right on!
[cops all give him a look]
Welsh: So what’s it gonna be, Warfield?
Warfield: Do ‘em.
Marty: Mr. Warfield, they’re cops.
Warfield: I said, do ‘em!
Marty: No.
Warfield: [chuckles] No, huh? All
right. So, what? What? What the hell do you want from me?
Fraser: You know what I want.
[Tommy appears on the stairs behind them]
Warfield: [sarcastically] Ohh. I’m sorry I slapped the kid.
Fraser: Thank you kindly. Merry
Christmas.
[cops exit quietly]
[27th precinct, corridor;
Fraser carries an armload of presents]
Ray: Fraser. Whose name did you get
for the gift thing?
Fraser: Uh, as of the moment,
Leftenant Welsh.
Ray: Perfect. I got Francesca. Trade
me.
Fraser: Why?
Ray: Well, with Francesca it’s
always too heavy. Either she’s gonna love what I get her or she’s gonna hate
it. Either way, emotional contact. Who needs it? Plus, I got this box of Cuban
cigars, Lieutenant’ll love them.
Fraser: Very well. Right pocket.
[Kowalski switches cards]
Welsh: How are you feeling,
Constable?
Fraser: Much better. Thank you
kindly, sir.
Francesca: Oh good, everybody’s
here. [loudly] Okay, in the spirit of Christmas, keep
your meat hooks off the gifts ‘til I call your name.
Fraser: Oh dear.
Turnbull: Ho Ho
Ho! [appears
dressed in red serge & white beard, Santa cap over his Stetson]
Fraser: Excuse me for one second. I
need to have a word with Santa.
Francesca: Sure.
[they exit; phone rings]
Francesca: Squad room....Yeah, just a minute. It’s
for you.
Welsh: Yello.
[holding cell]
Turnbull: Fraser, It’s me, Turnbull.
Fraser: Ah, Turnbull. I took you for
Santa.
Turnbull: Understandably. I know how
busy you’ve been lately, sir, so I took the liberty of bringing your work in
progress. [presents half-finished bear
carving]
Fraser: Oh, dear.
Turnbull: Problem, sir?
Fraser: Well, yes. You see, when
this was to be for Ray, it was going to be an elk. Then it was going to be for
Leftenant Welsh, it was gonna be a grizzly bear. Now it’s for Francesca, I
just...
Turnbull: Fret not, sir. [presents a block of wood] Yukon heart of pine.
Fraser: Good thinking.
Turnbull: Your accoutrements. [flips open a box with specialty knives
inside]
[Fraser takes two knives & gets to
work, wood chips flying everywhere]
[bullpen]
Welsh: [to Fraser] Well, it seems
Warfield was letting things slide at the office lately. When it was out that he
was in jail, some of his associates decided they’d be better off without him.
Ray: So they ratted him out?
Welsh: Precisely. Organized Crime
was waiting for him as soon as he made bail. He was mad, and he was talking. A
lot of guys are gonna go away for a long time.
Tommy: It’s true? He’s really in
jail?
Fraser: Yes, he is.
Frank: You okay?
Fraser: Mm-hmm, I’m fine.
Frank: I let you down. I’m sorry.
Fraser: No, you didn’t let me down.
You did what you could do. That’s all anyone can ask.
Francesca: All right, it’s present
time.
[Dief & Ante share sock of dog treats]
[Francesca opens her gift from Fraser]
Fraser: I made it myself, out of wood.
Francesca: Wow. Hey, is this
Geraldo, the guy who delivers water to my mother?
Frank: It’s Michaelangelo’s
David. For 400 years it’s been considered to be the most perfect nude.
Francesca: Wow. It’s beautiful. I
love it. Thanks, Fraze. [tries to kiss
him, he backs away; she tries again & kisses him on the cheek]
[Music: ‘Silent Night’ sung by Dutch
Robinson]
[Fraser opens his gift from Thatcher]
Thatcher: It’s a sword.
Fraser: A sword, I see.
Dewey: Well, calling Dr. Freud.
Thatcher: Purely ceremonial. You
don’t have to use it.
Fraser: I see. It’s very nice.
[Welsh inhales the aroma of his cigars; so
does Robert]
Robert Fraser: Cubans. Can’t get
those in Heaven.
Fraser: And they’re illegal in the
United States.
Welsh: Come on, Constable, lighten
up. It’s Christmas.
[Kowalski & Dewey laugh at Kowalski’s
gift]
Ray: You know, I already got one of
these. [holds up the ray gun]
Dewey: Get out!
Ray: I do! Merry Christmas [hugs Dewey]
Dewey: All right. It’s okay.
Ray: You mind if I uh--
Dewey: Donate it? Yeah, yeah.
[Kowalski hands the toy to Turnbull]
Turnbull: Ha-ha, cool.
Semi-automatic?
Dewey: Yep. No permit.
Turnbull: Hit the deck!! Assassin Santa coming
through! [runs off ‘shooting’]
Dutch: [sings]
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Francesca: Here we go! [passes out glasses of eggnog]
Welsh: Constable! [offers glass]
Fraser: No, thank you, sir.
Francesca: Hey, who wants to make a
toast?
Welsh: Toast! Toast!
Dewey: Bottoms up.
[laughter]
Francesca: How ‘bout you, Fraser?
You want to make the toast?
Fraser: All right, um. [clears throat] Christmas is more than just a religious
holiday. It is a time that has come to have special meaning for people of many
different faiths. Or lack of them. My own Christmases I remember with a great
fondness, and a certain sense of horror. We always had arctic tern instead of
Christmas turkey, or sea buckthorn bush instead of an evergreen, search and
rescue flares instead of Christmas lights. But I’ve learned to forgive all of
that. Most of all, Christmas is about forgiveness. Merry Christmas, everybody.
All: Merry Christmas!
Francesca: Hey! What is this? [spots another gift under the tree] Fraser, it’s for you.
Fraser: For me?
Francesca: Yeah.
[Fraser opens his gift]
Ray: [voice] What is it?
Fraser: It’s my family. [gazes at the framed b+w
photo]
Robert Fraser: Merry Christmas, son.
Fraser: Merry Christmas, Dad.
Dutch: [sings] Sleep in heavenly peace.
End