Centre Jet
Outside Blue Cove
(Outside the jet a storm rages, the rain beading against the window. The
passengers, Miss Parker, Broots and Sydney are not having an easy time
of it. Broots is trying to pour a glass of water but the buffeting that the
plane is receiving disturbs his aim and some of the water misses the
glass. Sydney has removed his coat but has it draped over his chest as if
he is cold. Miss Parker stares out the window.)
Sydney: Strange how Jarod left nothing in Hawaii, as if he wanted us out
of the way.
Parker: Broots, find out why we haven’t landed.
Broots: Oh, please don’t make me get up.
Parker: Since when do you hate to fly?
Broots: I don’t hate to fly. I hate to barf.
Parker: It’s important.
(She looks out the window, ending further discussion. Broots looks at
Sydney who shrugs slightly and raises his eyebrows. Broots stands and
makes his way unsteadily to the cockpit.)
Sydney: Jarod's trail’s cold. What could you possibly be late for? Unless
your appointment is not business but pleasure?
Parker: Are you this chatty on commercial flights?
Sydney: I’m a shrink. What do you want? (They exchange a smile.) So
what’s his name. You did call him from Jarod’s cabana, didn’t you? There
is a certain glow about you.
Parker: I don’t glow Sydney. His name is Thomas and he’s doing some
work on my house. He’s a fixit man Sydney.
Sydney: What exactly is broken?
(Miss Parker stares at him momentarily. Broots arrives before she can
make any reply.)
Broots: The Pilot says we’re going to circle for an hour, maybe two.
Parker: Thank you Jarod. You just know that he’s down there basking in
the sun and surf.
A Short Pier
(It is night. Jarod half lies half sits, propped up against one of the pilings.
His hands are cuffed in front of him and lengths of heavy chain are
wrapped around his torso, thighs and ankles. A godfather-type figure,
that is, short, balding wearing an overcoat stands over him looking down.
The man throws a disposable cup of water at Jarod. The water and cup
hit Jarod in the face. He splutters as he comes to consciousness, realises
his predicament and pulls futilely at the chains at his wrists.)
Man: Wake up wise ass. I wouldn’t like you to sleep through this
because you’re going in for a dip.
(The man picks up a large anchor and throws it over the side of the pier.
It hits the water with a splash and lengths of the chain slither off the pier
in its wake. Jarod attached to the chains is dragged off after it.)
Jarod: Ah! No!
(Jarod hits the water with a splash and sinks rapidly.)
OPENING CREDITS
(Jarod hits the bed of the Atlantic Ocean, his hair billowing, his cheeks
puffed as he holds as much air in his mouth as possible.)
Voiceover: Ever since I was a little boy people have been telling me that
I am special. That I have a gift, that I could be anything I want to be. I
never guessed that I would end up here, in the Atlantic Ocean, as a
human anchor. But maybe I should start at the beginning.
The Beginning
The Comedy Slot Casino
Atlantic City
Two Days Ago
(Jarod stands at an inner door of the casino looking around him before
entering. There are people playing blackjack, a bartender demonstrating
his prowess with magic and waitresses moving among the patrons. There
is a small stage where a comedian tells jokes.)
Comedian: You’re a lawyer, eh? A lawyer robbed me blind. The other
night I was sitting there at the bar and I said to the fellow beside me, “All
lawyers are slime” He said, “Take that back” I said “Why? Are you a
lawyer?”, No, I’m a slime”.
Voiceover: The Comedy Slot where the jokes are as cheesy as the
patrons. Well no one was laughing, especially me. (He takes out his red
notebook and opens it.) I had been tracking these classified ads for
weeks but I didn’t know who was placing them. (In the red notebook,
there are three clippings from classifieds. Each one reads:
~ JAROD ~
MEET ME AT THE COMEDY SLOT CASINO
ATLANTIC CITY
2/13/99 – 8 AM)
It was too obvious for a Centre trick. But I had to be careful. That’s why
I left no leads in Hawaii. That’s also is why I should have turned and run
when I saw the source of the ads. (Jarod looks over to the slot machines
where he spots Argyle engrossed in the spinning wheels.) Argyle, he
saved my life once and then tried sell me to the Centre.
Argyle: (A waitress hands him a drink. He sips and then calls the
waitress back.) Hey! You call this a martini? You call this a martini? I
wouldn’t feed this to my dog (He looks down at his dog, short, fat of
indeterminate breeding, that sits beside him on his leash.) okay and I
feed him no olive because his pimento intolerant . . . but even if he wasn’t
I wouldn’t let this touch his little doggie lips. You know what I’m saying?
(She turns and moves on. Argyle returns to pulling the handle on his
machine.) He’s a good boy. She’s a bad girl. She’s a bad girl.
Jarod: (Jarod has entered the room and walked up to Argyle.) Ah Hmm!
Argyle: Jay-rod. (He embraces Jarod. Jarod does not reciprocate.)
What’s tricks man? How you doing? I knew you’d get my message.
Jarod: Half the eastern seaboard got your message.
Argyle: Oh yeah. Yeah! Well it worked right? Dog, whoa, (Dog has
bared his teeth in a vicious snarl.) you remember Jarod? (Dog barks a
greeting.) In like Flynn see. Look at us three, alright. Re-united and
we’re feeling good, right? Hey are you still carrying all those Id’s? Whose
skin are you wearing this week?
Jarod: A sucker’s. Now what do you want?
Argyle: What I want? (He turns away and walks over to the bar. Jarod
follows him.) What do I want? I want another couple of martinis, that’s
what I want. Hold the olives. Okay, what I want, what I want is for
everybody to get along. Hey. I want everybody to be happy.
Jarod: Starting with yourself.
Argyle: Well of course. But how much happier can this nancy boy be?
Check me out! I’m a fat cat down here. Me llaman “El Gato Gordo“ dude.
It’s right.
Jarod: Who did you have to sell to get it?
Argyle: You know something, that’s low, that is very low. Check this out.
I forgive you.
Jarod: How did you break your finger?
Argyle: Job hazard.
Jarod: That would require a job. Now what do you want?
(Argyle’s jovial mood diminishes and he looks over his shoulder
nervously.)
Argyle: Okay here’s the story, alright. There’s this guy, Faddis down
here, Mr Sonny Faddis. He’s the entrepreneurial type, he’s actually a
friend of mine.
Jarod: Friends break bread not fingers.
Argyle: Okay I know what you’re saying about the finger, okay but you’re
wrong. He’s got people who do it for him, okay? He provided me recently
with a little financial sustenance.
Jarod: How much do you owe him?
Argyle: Five thousand . . . dollars. (He turns to the bar and picks up his
drink.)
Jarod: What? You went to all this trouble to get me down here for five
thousand dollars?
Argyle: Listen to me. This Mister Sonny Faddis is bad news okay. He
made me choose which finger his goons would break. (He holds up his
middle splinted finger and points to it.) I told him this one because you’ve
got to have a free picker you know? (Jarod winces.) The news Jarod if I
don’t pay this guy back Argyle is ancient history, man. Besides what’s
five large between friends?
Jarod: You tried to sell me for ten.
Argyle: I know. I know what I did. I know what I know. I know what I
did was wrong. I also happen to know you, my friend, and I are kindred
spirits. Don’t give me that look. We both know what it’s like to be alone
in this world. We also both know what it’s like to have no body to turn to.
You’re all I got Jarod.
Voiceover: I was suddenly face to face with my toughest pretend,
becoming Argyle’s friend.
Dog: Brrrrr!
Argyle: (Suddenly ‘up’ again.) You’re the man, Jarod.
Voiceover: I didn’t need forged papers or a fake id.
Argyle: You’re the man Jarod. (He turns to the bar.) Set us up with
another couple of drinks here.
Voiceover: Just a lot of patience and no common sense. (Jarod picks up
his drink, sniffs, takes a sip and winces at the bitterness.)
The Centre Jet
(Miss Parker continues to stare out at the night. Broots has stretched out
across the seat with his jacket over him. He is seemingly asleep.)
Sydney: You seem anxious. Thomas must be doing important fix it work.
Parker: I met him a few weeks ago and we spent a couple of hours
together one night . . . (She notices Sydney’s adopted bland expression.)
just talking. He used to work on Wall Street but he checked out.
Sydney: Huh!
Parker: He’s renovating this absolutely ancient house near mine. He calls
it a work in progress. I got to thinking that I needed some work done on
my house so . . . well I wish I could tell you that having him over was just
about the water damage. It was more.
Parker’s Residence
(Miss Parker unlocks the front door and enters followed by Thomas. He
steps into the room and then walks across to the far wall. Miss Parker
picks up some mail off the table flicks through it before discarding it and
walking across to Thomas. He is running his hand over the wall at the site
of the peeling paint. He looks up at the ceiling where the water has left
its mark.)
Thomas: Well, definitely water damage. This place is sweet though it’s
got a lot of character.
Parker: A lot of years.
Thomas: Yeah but structure’s great. Masonry out front. Owned or
rented.?
Parker: It was a gift given to me by my father when I graduated college.
(She opens the door to a closet walks in and turns on the light. She
remove her pistol and holster from the small of her back and engages the
safety before tucking it under a mound of pillows on a shelf.) It was, ah,
sort of a hide away for my parents. (She turns off the light and emerges
in time to see Thomas pulling plastic away from a photo frame. He picks
it up. It is a studio portrait of Catherine.)
Thomas: That’s gotta be mum.
Parker: I look just like her, I know. She passed away when I was a little
girl.
Thomas: Must have been tough.
Parker: Yeah.
Thomas: Hey! You know what would be perfect right here? (He indicates
the wall.) A lighter colour. And we’ll lose the stained glass and the bay
window and get some light reflection coming in, brighten up the whole
house.
Parker: Let’s cover it with dry wall and a fresh coat of paint. The same
colour.
Thomas: Hmm!
Parker: What?
Thomas: You’re a doer.
Parker: A doer?
Thomas: Yeah. I worked construction to pay for college, big leave it to
beaver houses. We had two kinds of house wives. The fiddlers (He
moves up close to her.) always change their tune, made you replace
cabinets after they were already in. (He moves to stand behind her and
then stands at her shoulder.) The doers….. The doers, they always made
the call, once.
Parker: I always get what I want.
On the Streets
(Jarod is driving a red car, the roof down. Argyle sits beside him, Dog on
the back seat.)
Voiceover: I’ve heard that love makes the world go round. Or is it
money? It is in Argyle’s world. I’d gotten his five thousand dollars
courtesy of Centre funds but before we went to pay off his loan shark, Mr
Faddis, Argyle insisted on making a stop. (They pull up in front of an
apartment block.) But as is so Argyle around every corner is another
surprise. (Argyle gets out of the car and ducks around the side of the
building. Jarod moves to the passenger side and closes the door of the
car. Argyle returns from around the corner but now wears having black-
framed glasses and carrying a roll of charts.) Although his Pretender skills
needed honing Argyle was right. In a way we were kindred spirits.
(Argyle passes a payphone thinks better of it and goes back and checks
the coin slot. He bangs his fist twice on the side of the unit when he
comes up empty of forgotten coins.) There was just something about
Argyle that I understood.
(Argyle opens the door to an apartment and the dog scurries into the
room in front of him.)
Argyle: Dog. (He follows in the wake of the dog who is hot footing it
towards the kitchen.) I gotta make sure he diddles on the balcony. Make
yourself at home. (From the kitchen.) Oh no, for the love of Pete. I told
you the balcony.
(Jarod closes the door and looks around. He moves to the television and
picks up one of a stack of video cassettes stacked on top. The label reads
”Pope at Giant’s Stadium 1995”. On the television the Pope in the “Pope-
mobile” is making his slow progress through a large crowd of cheering and
flag waving admirers to the accompaniment of fanfare music. Jarod turns
his attention to a photo gallery on one wall of the cluttered room. There
is a large portrait of the Pope, a family portrait of Argyle and of a couple
who we assume are his parents. There is another portrait of Argyle in a
suit. Jarod leans down and looks closely at a framed box. Inside is a
metal plaque, three screws and the faded imprint of where a pistol once
rested. He stands upright and turns back to face the middle of the room.)
Benny: Freeze, soldier. I’ve tangled with SS twice your size.
(A man has stepped up behind Jarod. It is the man from the family
portrait. He is holding the pistol that is missing from the box frame on the
wall. Jarod holds up his hands.)
Jarod: Whoa whoa whoa!
Benny: If you think you can just waltz in here and swipe my prize
possessions for a vial of mind altering crap you’ve got another thing
coming.
Jarod: Argyle!
Benny: Make your peace, son.
Argyle: (Coming from the balcony.) Yo. Hold up. Take it easy. This is
my friend. This man is my friend.
Benny: Wait a minute. (He turns to Argyle.) What the heck are you
doing here?
Argyle: What, I can’t come here? All of a sudden I can’t come here? My
buildings are done.
Benny: Oh well your manners ain’t. (He puts the pistol in his pocket.)
Name’s Benny. Returned field medic 101st Airborne, Screaming Eagles,
WWII. (They shake hands.)
Jarod: My name is Jarod.
Benny: Firm handshake. Sign of character in some cultures. It means
you’re a skilled horseman.
Jarod: I was a rodeo clown once.
Benny: Which would explain why you work with my son. (Benny walks
away.)
Argyle: (Argyle turns and faces Jarod, looking him right in the eye.)
Right Pop. That’s ah Jarod like myself has broadened his horizons in the
ever expanding and creatively exciting world of Computer aided drafting.
Jarod: Actually, I was just . . .
(A wall clock with a portrait of the Pope on its face, starts chiming the
opening of “Hallelujah” from Handel’s Messiah.)
Argyle: Medicine time pop. The sacred time piece has spoken.
Benny: Cherish your health Jarod. (He pops a couple of pills.) It’s the
only thing you’ve got that’s truly yours. (Jarod picks up a couple of the
pill bottles and reads the labels.) Besides ear wax and nose hair.
Jarod: Moscadil. Ritalin. Do you have a enzyme imbalance?
Benny: Brain condition. It also gave me this limp.
Jarod: It could be enzyme related but it . . .
Benny: Could be? (He holds out his hand.) It’s been a pleasure Jerry.
The Pope’s coming back on.
Jarod: Ah? Isn’t he on tape?
Benny: You don’t pause the Pontiff. (He goes and sits in front of the
television.)
Jarod: (In a lower tone.) You borrowed the five thousand dollars for him,
didn’t you?
Argyle: The VFW gives him insurance but it don’t cover what he really
needs. We lost mum about a year ago. He’s been going down hill ever
since. They saw the Pope together back in ’95. Giant’s Stadium. It was
right after mum got sick. The doc said she had only like a month to live.
My old man swears the Pope gave her those three extra years. He just
wants to go to Vatican City, you know, see the guy, hear the mass.
Maybe thank him. I don’t know.
Jarod: Five thousand dollars covers a trip to Italy.
Argyle: Yeah I know, but um . . .
Jarod: But what?
Argyle: There’s this guy who works for Faddis. He handles my high-yield
investments.
Jarod: So you borrowed five thousand dollars from a loan shark and you
lost it to a bookie.
Argyle: Jarod I just want my Dad’s trip to be top drawer. You know?
First pew all the way. Is that too much to ask?
(Jarod looks over his shoulder to where Benny sits in front of the
television.)
On the Streets
In the Car
Voiceover: Argyle’s heart was in the right place but as usual his brain
wasn’t. (They pull up in front of the Clam Shack Restorante and Wine
Bar.) I insisted that we go straight to pay off Faddis. (Jarod pulls a was
of notes out of an inside pocket and hands it to Argyle.)
Argyle: I can’t wait to see Faddis’s face when I slide him the green.
Voiceover: He insisted on going in alone.
Jarod: Be careful.
Voiceover: (Jarod and Dog watch the proceedings inside the Clam Shack
from the car.) A little quick homework told me that Argyle’s loan shark
was a man eater. A short-tempered violent killer. Sonny Faddis. (Argyle
places the money in front of a cigar smoking Faddis.) Along with Sonny’s
Clam Shack he owned a bit piece of the waterfront and supplied seafood
to most of Atlantic city.
Dog: Woof! Woof!
Voiceover: It didn’t take long to see that Argyle was in over his head,
(The goons grab an arm each.) and his back against the wall. (They are
outside now and they bang Argyle, back-first, up against the wall. One of
the goons breaks the finger beside the other damaged digit. Jarod plants
his foot and burns rubber. He pulls up near Argyle.)
Jarod: Get in. Get in!
(Argyle jumps in and Jarod speeds away.)
At the Docks
(Argyle is sitting on the hood of the car while Jarod tapes his finger.)
Argyle: Ow ow ow!
Jarod: Who were they?
Argyle: Those guys? Faddis’s boys. The Africans.
Jarod: Africans?
Argyle: South Africans.
Jarod: Look Argyle he wouldn’t have broken another finger if you were
paid up. Well?
Argyle: Okay. Okay. I owe him a favour. Once I’m done with that I’m
free and clear. Don’t say it, don’t even think it. The guy will fly solo on
this one man. (He gets down off the hood and picks up Dog.) No worries
man. Thanks for everything you’ve done. And that five grand? Back in
your bank account before you even know it. Just give me a little time,
that’s all. A little time. You know, he may be man’s best friend but you J-
man are my best friend. (Dog whimpers.)
Jarod: Argyle. Here. Two first class tickets to Vatican City. Make sure
your dad sees the Pope.
Argyle: I can’t man. It’s gotta be from me. You’ve already done enough.
Sayonara man. Adios.
Jarod: (He puts the tickets away.) Take care of yourself.
(Argyle walks over the edge of the dock and sits down. Jarod gets into
the car but can’t help but look back at Argyle. Argyle is holding a card
and is reading the back of it. He and Dog look despondent.)
Voiceover: Second thoughts can be dangerous, but it quickly dawned on
me that leaving Argyle and Dog would be like, well it would be like leaving
two wounded animals in a trap. It just wasn’t in me. (Jarod reverses the
car up to Argyle.)
Jarod: You guys coming or what? Argyle gets in. You were praying for
your father weren’t you?
Argyle: Yeah. (He shows him the small card with the picture of the
Pope.) He gave it to me. Laminated. He and mum got it when they saw
the him in ninety-five. I was praying that he would get to see the
Popester before ah, before it was too late.
Jarod: Too late?
Argyle: Oh yeah Jarod. He’s dying.
(Jarod takes the card from Argyle and looks at it more closely.)
Voiceover: Argyle’s situation put into focus for me something that I think
I’ d known for a long time. (He hands the card back to Argyle and drives
away.) That until I find my family, helping people like Benny and Argyle
is the next best thing.
Underwater
(Jarod has taken a lock pick from the sleeve of his shirt and removes the
handcuffs. They fall the ocean bed.)
Voiceover: Things were going pretty smoothly but how was I to know
that the middle part of this story would get so messy.
The Middle
(Jarod, Argyle and Dog arrive at a series of blue dumpsters at the back of
an apartment block.)
Voiceover: Faddis had a simple job for Argyle. Pick up a bag of skimmed
casino money from a dumpster. (They get out of the car and Argyle walks
over to one of the dumpsters. Jarod looks around briefly before following
him.) But something about this was nagging me. Why would Faddis trust
Argyle to pick up his money, after all Argyle is a guy who named his dog,
well “Dog”. (Argyle lifts the lid of one of the dumpsters and using his
stomach as a fulcrum leans over the edge and starts searching through
the contents. Jarod grabs Argyle by the tails of his jacket just before
Argyle slides head first into the dumpster. He pulls him out and then
leans over and grabs a bag from the inside.) No worries, just like Argyle
said. For a second I believed him. (A man jumps up from the side of the
dumpster and hits Argyle on the back of the head. Argyle drops to the
ground.) A split second. (The man points a gun at Jarod’s head.)
Argyle: (Getting to his feet.) Argh! That hurt!
Voiceover: It turned out the bag and the money inside didn’t belong to
Faddis, it belonged to this guy, (The guy indicates for Jarod to hand over
the bag.) called himself the Cuban, and called me something else.
(Argyle stands beside Jarod.)
Cuban: Little Joe from Chicago. What makes you think you can come to
my town kill two of my couriers and steal my money? This cash belongs
to the Cuban.
Argyle: The Cuban?
Jarod: The Cuban?
Cuban: You’ve never heard of the Cuban?
Jarod: Not one who sounds like you.
Cuban: Not a Cuban. I’m the Cuban.
Voiceover: Remember those second thoughts?
Cuban: And this is my little friend.
Dog: Woof woof.
(Dog runs through Argyle’s legs and grabs the Cuban by the trouser leg.
The Cuban bends down and Jarod grabs him by the gun hand deflecting it
down before pushing him over against the dumpster. He delivers a right
cross to the Cuban’s chin. Argyle and Dog cheer him on as he ducks
under a round arm from The Cuban. Jarod pushes him into the dumpster
again and he falls, stunned, to the ground.)
Argyle: Yeah, Yeah Good boy. (Argyle picks up dog and follows Jarod to
the car. He throws Dog into the car and hurdles the door.) You’re a good
boy. You’re a good boy. Yeah!
Jarod: Get out of here.
Argyle: He is. Ah shoot the money. (He leaps out of the car and runs
back to The Cuban and the bag of money.)
Jarod: Forget the money. Argyle!
Argyle: Oh gee. (He notices the Cuban stirring and picking up his gun.
He runs back to the car.) Okay. (The Cuban shoots hitting Argyle.)
Argh. (He dives head first into the car.) Drive J Drive!
The Centre Jet
Parker: He’s still out. (She is referring to Broots who is still sleeping
opposite her.) God bless dramamine.
Sydney: Tell me Parker, this Thomas does he know where you work?
Miss Parker’s Residence
(Miss Parker and Thomas are sitting at the dining table eating Japanese
take away with chop sticks.
Thomas: This really hits the spot. Thanks for the eats.
Parker: It’s coming out of your pay cheque. Shrimp?
Thomas: I’ve got you hooked didn’t I Parker?
Parker: I’ve always been partial to mushu.
Thomas: You mean that’s all you’ve ever ordered.
Parker: Someone once told me that stability breeds success.
Thomas: That’s because they never had sweet and pungent shrimp. (He
picks up one of the containers and looks inside.) Oh oh. (He picks up a
piece with his chop sticks.) Last piece. (He goes to put it in his mouth
but pauses as he notices her look of dismay. He laughs and holds it out
for her before popping it in her mouth.) Are you always this demanding at
work?
Parker: I’m a doer, remember?
Thomas: That’s right. Corporate risk assessment. Sounds like a fancy
name for insurance.
Parker: A fancy name for stress. (She takes a sip of water before patting
her mouth with a napkin.) I ah, I solve problems for my company. (She
stands and goes to the closet with the intent of removing her gun.)
Thomas: (He picks up the plates and follows her to the closet.) I was
going to tell you . . . (He arrives at the open door just in time to see her
engaging the safety. She pauses and then continues to put it away.) I
ah, I ah, went up on the roof to check for the leak, you know, water
damage, and um, and there may be another room back there.
Parker: Let’s just cover it up. Look my company makes me carry that.
Thomas: Hey work is work. Anyway I should be done by Saturday if you
don’t slow me down with any more food.
The Centre Jet
Parker: It’s a part of me I wish he hadn’t seen. (She is holding the gun,
caressing the holster with her thumb.)
Sydney: The gun is something you carry Parker. It’s not who you are.
Jarod’s Car
(Argyle is lying across the back seat, the lower half of his body twisted so
that Jarod can look at the wound on the back of his thigh. He is hugging
Dog to his chest.
Jarod: Are you alright?
Argyle: Oh J-man, I’m cold. I’m so cold.
Jarod: What are you talking about? This is just a flesh wound. The bullet
barely nicked you.
Argyle: (He opens his eyes fully and his expression is less pained.) Yeah?
Well I know what you’re going to say. But how was I to know that an
Irish Cuban was going to show up spout wigging. He called you Little Joe.
What’s that all about?
Jarod: He was obviously expecting this Little Joe.
Argyle: Yeah, too bad for him we’re the ones bringing home the green.
Goodyear Blimp says Argyle’s pimp. (He picks up the bag that they took
from the dumpster. It is open and he puts a hand inside. He pulls up
bunches of screwed up paper.) Oh no J-Man. Oh no J-man.
Voiceover: I could see it in Argyle’s eyes. Before today I would have
called it greed
Argyle: Oh no.
Voiceover: But this was fear.
Argyle: Oh no.
Voiceover: No money in the bag meant no trip to Italy. And no dying
wish for the one thing that really matters to Argyle. Pop.
Benny’s Apartment
Benny: Step back son. (Argyle is leaning over the back of a chair. Benny
is holding onto a rather large syringe.) Thanks to me, no man in the one
hundred and first ever lost a limb, ‘cept for Bernie Sizeowicz. (He pulls
down Argyle’s pants exposing a suitable target for the needle.) He lost a
toe but that’s barely an appendage.
Argyle: Lamina Pope let me down. (He takes the card from his pocket. A
small key comes out as well.) Hey, what’s this doing in here? Here that’s
not my key. (Jarod takes the key.)
Jarod: That’s an awful lot of sedative.
(Benny swabs the spot.)
Dog: Woof. Woof.
Argyle: Hey Pop. How ‘bout we skip the needle?
Benny: Take it like a man soldier.
(Benny jabs the needle into Argyle’s rump and pushes in the plunger.)
Argyle: Argh!
Voiceover: (Jarod is working at his computer at Benny’s table.)I wasn’t
having any luck with the key but I did track down the Cuban, AKA Denis
O’Quinn. (He prints out his rap sheet.) Turns out that he was the second
biggest loan shark in Atlantic City. Second only to the Clam King, Sonny
Faddis. But what was the Cuban doing at the dumpster? Stealing from
Faddis? No. That didn’t make any sense. None of this does. (He looks
over to Argyle who is asleep on the sofa, Dog asleep beside him.) It felt
like Faddis had set Argyle up, but for what? The key had definitely been
planted on him, probably by the Africans.
Benny: (He sits down opposite Jarod and picks up the key.) Orlanhi.
Jarod: Faddis’s minions must have planted it on Argyle when they broke
his finger.
Benny: Yeah, he’s out colder than spit on ice. You were right. Too much
knock out juice.
Jarod: He’ll be fine.
Benny: Not if he keeps up like this. A son should never stop listening to
his father. He should know to stay away from the wrong people. My
Adella would have made sure of that.
Jarod: (He looks at the picture of the family that stands on the table.)
She had a beautiful smile.
Benny: Oh yeah, didn’t she? And such a way with that kid.
Jarod: He was an only child?
Benny: Yep! After he was born Dr Canepa told Adella she had to close
down the baby foundry. Huh. My buttercup always found a silver lining –
she said, Argyle broke the mould.
Jarod: Many moulds.
Benny: If she was here he wouldn’t be sneaking around with a bunch of
criminals pretending to be an architect.
Jarod: You knew about that?
Benny: The kid wouldn’t know a straight edge if it bit him on the tuckus.
Jarod: (He chuckles.)
Benny: I know he’s not perfect, Jarod, but he’s got a kind soul. He’s got
her soul.
Jarod: You underestimate fathers.
Benny: I may have fought in the big one but she was the real hero.
When I lost her it was like being at the front and losing contact with HQ. I
just didn’t know what was what any more. And I can’t reach him. God
knows I’d love to find a way. Orlani?
Jarod: I couldn’t find a bank or a key maker with that name.
Benny: Well I’ve got a buddy in the VWF. He’s a locksmith. (Jarod
stands up.) I’ll get him to take a gander. Where’re you going?
Jarod: Trolling . . . (He opens the door.) for shark. (He leaves.)
Faddis’ Clam Shack
Voiceover: (He is walking through the restaurant. He has discarded his
black leather jacket for a beige one.) Loan shark, that is. Something told
me that I was caught in the middle of a turf war. (He stops to add
another ring to a hand that is already sporting several chunky jewellery
items. He is also wearing a gold necklace.) So I put on my best wise guy
duds and paid a visit to the clam king.
Jarod: (He enters the kitchen area.) Mr Faddis call me the Pope.
Faddis: The Pope. Well I don’t serve loaves and fishes here. Andreas,
give me a fresh plate after I deal with this clown. So what can I do for
you Mr Pope?
Jarod: Why would you lend five thousand dollars to a guy like Argyle?
(He puts the bag that he is carrying on the table.)
Faddis: Oh, you know that little weasel?
Jarod: If he’s such weasel why did you ask him to make a pickup for you?
Faddis: Who said I did?
Jarod: He did.
Faddis: Now you listen to me. I don’t care what you call yourself. I’m
going to spell it out for you like you were five. Argyle still owes me a big
favour. So you’re going to tell me where that little insect is or you’re
going to go for a long walk off a short pier. Cliché I know but I happen to
own the pier.
Jarod: I’ll deliver you Argyle . . . for a price.
Faddis: Ten.
Jarod: Come on, you’ve got more clams than that.
Faddis: Twenty.
Jarod: Alright.
Faddis: Al! Where are my cigars?
Man: Sorry Mr Faddis. I just got back from Orlanhi. (Al passes Faddis a
cigar box with a familiar looking key on top.)
Jarod: Orlani?
Faddis: Yeah I eat there every Friday. I keep a humidor out back. Why?
Do you like that place? (Faddis holds out a cigar which Jarod reluctantly
takes.)
Jarod: What’s not to like?
Faddis: You ought to try the ossa bucco. It’s phenomenal.
Jarod: I don’t care much for veal. It reminds me of my childhood.
In the Car
(It is night.)
Voiceover: My meeting with Faddis answered one question. Orlani’s was
a restaurant. Another restaurant. I had a feeling that the key, no pun, to
this mystery was locked inside a humidor there. All I had to do was to get
that key back from Benny but he had a plan of his own. (Benny opens the
door of the humidor room at Orlanhi’s.) Benny knew about Orlani all
along and to make matters worse the screaming eagle, decided to take
matters into his own hands, and drop behind the enemy lines and strike a
blow for his son. (Benny opens the humidor No 11 as is marked on the
key and removes a cigar box. The door opens behind him and the
Africans enter.)
The Atlantic Ocean
(Jarod still wrapped in chains sits on the ocean floor.)
Voiceover: I wish I could say that the war was about to end, but it was
just beginning. War is hell, especially when a slippery lock pick is
suddenly the enemy. (The lock pick slips from his fingers and falls
amongst the pebbles.) Welcome to my Waterloo. (He scrabbles around
amongst the pebbles.)
Orlanhi’s Humidor Room
(The Africans have a hold of Benny by the arms.)
Benny: I’ve tangled with SS twice your size.
Voiceover: (Jarod enters the room quietly and unnoticed.) Benny took
matters into his own hands alright, and the Africans were about to take a
finger.
(One of the goons is holding up a cigar trimmer and demonstrates how it
works for Benny.)
Benny: Oh gee.
Jarod: I wouldn’t do that.
Voiceover: I was unarmed but Sydney always taught me that my brain
was my most powerful weapon. (One of the goons rushes towards Jarod.
Jarod head butts him and pushes him out of the way.)
Jarod: Benny don’t! (The second goon turns around to look at Benny and
Jarod steps up behind him.) Hey! (The goon turns to face Jarod and he
hits him, falling to the ground.) Let’s get out of here.
Benny: Old Rommel ain’t got nothing on you.
The Centre Jet
Parker: The flight from hell. (She re-fastens her seat belt.) The pilot
says we’ll be circling for another half an hour.
Sydney: Do you think you will make it in time to see Thomas?
Parker: It probably doesn’t matter not after the last time.
Miss Parker’s Residence
Parker: (She pushes aside the plastic that Thomas has hung from the
ceiling to prevent the dust from spreading through the rest of the house.)
Thomas?
Thomas: In here. (He crawls through a jagged hole in the wall which he
is supposed to be repairing.) I was right. There is a room behind the
wall. Yeah! And look what I found. (He leans back through the hole and
pulls out a large picture frame.) Yeah. It was a studio or something. The
skylights back there are great. Soon as I lose this wall it will really
brighten up in here.
Parker: Leave it up.
Thomas: What? Are you kidding me?
Parker: Just leave it up. I have to take a flight to Hawaii in an hour. Just
cover it. (She pushes through the plastic to leave.)
Thomas: You knew about the room. I saw your mother’s name on some
stationery back there. Catherine Parker. It was her studio and you knew
it was there all along.
Parker: Yes I did. And I’m the one who put the wall up, so just leave it
up.
Thomas: Parker, why didn’t you say something?
Parker: (She turns back through the plastic, brushing it aside angrily.)
What am I supposed to say? You want me to tell you that that was her
favourite room, that that was where she used to read to me, braid my
hair? Is that what I’m supposed to do? Bare my soul to a stranger?
Thomas: Oh. I’m a stranger? I figured at least an acquaintance.
Parker: Well you figured wrong.
Thomas: Is that what the gun’s for? Hmm? To keep strangers away?
I’m guessing your life is filled with them, starting with her.
Parker: Put the wall back up while I’m gone. (She holds out the front
door key.)
Thomas: Sure thing. (He takes the key.)
Parker: I’ll be back Saturday to give you the cheque.
(He picks up his tools and brushes past her on the way out. She picks up
the painting and looks at it with sadness.)
The Centre Jet
Parker: I let him go. He stood there waiting for me to stop him and I let
him go.
Sydney: Your fixit man is right Parker. Why is everyone a stranger?
Benny’s Apartment
Argyle: (Pacing and agitated.) Ah nuts, we’re up to our necks into it now
pop.
Benny: (He is sitting in his arm chair, Dog on his lap who he is stroking.)
In fairness that fungus has been in the rackets since before you two were
born.
Jarod: Understand something Benny, Faddis is a killer and he won’t stop
until he finds both of you.
Argyle: Yeah and who’s the fungus now Pop? You lied to Jarod about the
key.
Benny: You want him to fight your battles for you, is that it?
Argyle: Oh oh oh Pop, nobody fights my battles for me.
Benny: Yeah Pop. And not everybody was so lucky they got to go to
World War II.
Benny: Hey I was serving my country.
Jarod: Hey hey hey. Enough. Look, your father only lied only about the
key because he was trying to get Faddis off your back.
Argyle: You were?
Benny: Oh well . . . (He shrugs.)
Jarod: And your son borrowed the money from Faddis so that he could
surprise you with a trip to the Vatican.
Benny: You mean to see the big guy?
Argyle: Yeah. Pop. If you just stick with me and Jarod, you know, we
want to get you there so you can see the guy, you know before you die
and all.
Jarod: Isn’t there something you want to tell Argyle? (Benny stands
putting Dog down and goes to leave the room.) Benny!
Benny: Hmm? (He turns back to face Jarod and Argyle.)
Jarod: You don’t have a brain condition, do you? This medication (He
takes a bottle of pills and up ends it into his mouth.) . . . sugar pills.
Argyle: You mean you’re not dying, Pop?
Jarod: I’ve got a great idea here. Why don’t we try a little fact instead of
fiction, huh?
Voiceover: It was the first time they had both shut up since I’d gotten
there and I knew where the silence came from. There was a time when it
would have been filled with another voice.
(Jarod goes to the table and picks up the family portrait, turning it around
so that both can see it.)
Jarod: She’s gone and she can’t be replaced. It’s not an option with
mothers. But you two, you don’t have to lose each other. (Benny and
Argyle, both looking decidedly uncomfortable sidle towards each other
before giving each other a hug. It is rather perfunctory, Benny giving
Argyle a couple of hard slaps on the back.)
Voiceover: It was the kind of moment I left the Centre for. Of course,
helping Argyle’s father meant nothing if Argyle didn’t live through the
week. (Jarod goes to the table, sits, and opens the cigar box. Argyle
takes a cushion and gently lifts his father’s head from where it is resting
on the arm of the sofa. Benny is sleeping with Dog in his arms.) That’s
where the cigar box came in. Argyle thought he had everything figured
out. (Argyle starts pacing and telling his version with much wave arming
and histrionics.)
Argyle: Hey hey Yo! I’ve got this thing nailed J-Man. See, I’m thinking
this guy is Cuban right. So he’s got to have family on the island under the
yoke of the evil dictator Fidel Castro and what not…………….
Voiceover: But of course Argyle was way off. Faddis had killed two of the
Cuban’s couriers and stolen his money and he needed someone to blame
it on. Argyle. The contents of the cigar box fingered Argyle as a criminal
nicknamed . . .
Flashback
The Cuban: Little Joe from Chicago.
Voiceover: You see the Cuban was supposed to find Argyle at the
dumpster and kill him. He’d find the key, the cigar box and have his
culprit. And Faddis would get away with murder and a lot of The Cuban’s
money.
Argyle: And Bam bam bam. They’re living high off the hog like capitalist
pigs in Atlantic City. Mmm. Am I good?
Jarod: You nailed it Argyle.
Voiceover: Just one question – where were the Cuban’s couriers?
Flashback
Faddis: They went for a long walk off a short pier. A cliche I know. But I
happen to own the pier.
The Pier
(The couriers, wrapped in chains and looking very bloated after emersion
for some time are at the bottom of the ocean near the pier pilling. Jarod
emerges from below the level of the pier. He is wearing scuba gear.
Argyle, Benny and Dog wait for him.)
Voiceover: Faddis had covered the Cuban’s couriers in chains and tossed
them. It was a cliché of the worse kind. I was planning a similar fate for
Faddis. (Jarod walks down the street towards his car, struggling under
the burden of a large length of heavy duty chain and a large sea anchor.
He strains as he lifts his purchases into the trunk of the car.) It kind of
became my MO since I escaped the Centre. Payback against the people
who think they could step on the little guy. In this case the littlest guy on
the planet. (He closes the trunk and looks to the front of the car where
Argyle sits. He notices that Argyle is going through the contents of his
case.)
Jarod: What are you doing with my case? (Dog, now dressed in a red
woollen doggie jumper watches from the back seat of the car.)
Argyle: Oh no, this ain’t what it looks like, this ain’t’ what it looks like,
Jarod: What are you doing with this?
Argyle: I wasn’t stealing anything. I was borrowing that, (He holds up
Jarod’s picture of his mother.) to make this. Lamina-pope gave me the
idea. This way she’ll always be protected from the elements. And always
close. (He hands Jarod a smaller version of the photograph that he has
had laminated.)
Voiceover: Nicest thing that anybody ever did for me. My pretend started
out pretending to be Argyle’s friend but I wasn’t pretending any more.
At the Pier
(Jarod is laying out the chains and anchor by the edge of the pier.)
Voiceover: I told Argyle to meet me at the pier at eight o’clock but
unfortunately he was followed there by the Africans. (Argyle approaches
Jarod.)
Argyle: The coast is clear big guy. We’re good to go.
Voiceover: (One of the Africans steps up to Jarod.) But Faddis’s goon
had other ideas. Make that goons, plural.
(The second good boxes Jarod in and they start laying into Jarod.)
Argyle: Oh no. Uh no. (He starts running away.) Uh no. Uh no.
Voiceover: Unlike his brain Argyle’s feet were working just fine.
Argyle: Not . No sorry man.
Voiceover: As for the goons…… (Jarod falls to the ground . . .
unconscious.) Well I think you know what they had in mind for me.
The Centre Jet
(The jet has landed and Sydney and Parker are making departure
preparations.)
Sydney: Good luck Parker. And don’t worry. Things with Thomas will
work out for the best. (He leaves.)
Broots: Miss Parker.
Parker: Not now Broots. I’m in a hurry.
Broots: Oh, for what it’s worth, I say go for it.
Parker: You were listening?
Broots: I heard parts.
Parker: What is everyone a spy?
Broots: Who do we work for? I’m just saying that if I felt that way about
somebody, I’d tell ‘em. It’s like this plane ride we just took. Any second
we could have been a statistic. We shouldn’t pass up an opportunity.
Parker: (She turns to leave and then turns back to him.) Thanks for the
tip.
The End
The Pier
Voiceover: Which brings us to the end and with any luck not my own.
(It is night. Jarod half lies half sits, propped up against one of the pilings.
His hands are cuffed in front of him and lengths of heavy chain is wrapped
around his torso, thighs and ankles. Faddis stands over him looking
down. He throws a disposable cup of water at Jarod. The water and cup
hit Jarod in the face. He splutters as he comes to consciousness, realises
his predicament and pulls futilely at the chains at his wrists.)
Faddis: Wake up wise ass. I wouldn’t want you to sleep through this
because you’re going in for a dip.
Jarod: Argh! No!
Voiceover: Faddis had sunk another victim. (Jarod looks up at Faddis
whose outline can be seen against the surface.) But that’s exactly how I’d
planned it from the Africans following Argyle to the camera (Faddis, who is
lighting a cigar, is seen through the view finder of the camera.) we had
set up to capture the whole thing. Losing a lock pick however wasn’t part
of the plan. Thank goodness for my four legged back up.
(Dog, still wearing his read jumper, trots along the pier. He hols a small
flashlight in his mouth. There is a key dangling from the end of the light.)
Argyle: Wait up! Wait up! Wait for me. Where are you going? (Dog
stops at the side of the pier where Jarod was thrown over. Argyle
crouches beside him.) Give me that. (Argyle takes the flashlight from
Dog and drops it over the edge.) What are you looking at?
(The flashlight drops within reach of Jarod. He reaches for it, uses the key
to unlock the padlock holding the chains together, shakes the bulk of the
chain off and swims up to the surface.)
Voiceover: Faddis had invited the Cuban to celebrate my long walk off a
short pier. (Faddis and the Cuban are standing beside a car. They
embrace.) They were heading to Orlanhi’s for some ossa bucco. But like
I said I don’t go for veal.
(Argyle and Jarod approach Faddis and The Cuban from behind. Argyle
raises a gun and aims it at them.)
Argyle: Okay everybody freeze. Nobody makes a move. (Jarod tips up a
shoe and empties the water from it.)
Voiceover: (Jarod takes the gun from Argyle.) The Cuban wasn’t too
happy when I told him what Faddis had done. Neither were the police.
(Jarod closes the trunk of Faddis’s car, with Faddis inside the trunk.)I told
them where to find Faddis, and the two couriers and the video tape. (He
places a video tape on the lid of the trunk.)
Argyle: (They move back to the car.) No body messes with the Argyle
and his sidekick Jay-rod. Didn’t anyone every tell you that crime don’t
pay. We’re a pretty good team you and me. (Jarod drives away.)
Miss Parker’s Residence
(Miss Parker enters. She moves to the plastic and starts to pull it down.
The room has been completed.)
Parker: Thomas?
Thomas: (He sits forward in an armchair, coffee cup in hand.) Are you
always this punctual?
Parker: The storm. We had to circle and . . .
(He stands and moves into the room. She turns to watch him and then
notices a door in the wall where there had been no door before.)
Thomas: I know you didn’t ask for a door. (She moves to a desk, opens
a drawer and takes out her cheque book and a pen, before moving to the
dining table and sitting down.) If you want I can put the wall back up.
Parker: So what’s the damage?
Thomas: Same price. Nothing extra. (She starts to fill out the cheque.
He places a key on the table in front of her.) It’s locked now, but if you
want to open it you’ve got the option.
Parker: (She hands him the cheque and he turns to leave. She stops him
. . . this time.) Tommy. I shouldn’t have lied. . . (She has trouble
controlling the tears.) I was very young when my mother died and after it
happened I just . . . ah. . . I just couldn’t bring myself to go into that
room. Mum and I used to . . . used to . . . talk all night in there. The
moonlight made it so special. She had a very painful life and that room
was her sanctuary.
Thomas: (He steps in front of her and then crouches.) No Parker. You
were. But you can’t remember that. When you closed off that room, you
closed off a part of your soul. The part that came from her. Get it back.
Parker: (She picks up the key.) I can’t do it alone.
Thomas: (He holds out his hand. She takes hold of it. He kisses her
hand.) Come on. It’ll be okay. (He leads her to the door. She hands
him the key. Thomas unlocks the door and opens it. Miss Parker can see
in the room but is still reluctant to enter. Thomas enters and holds out his
hand. Miss Parker takes it and she goes into the room. The door closes
after them.)
The Vatican
(Benny is standing in front of the Pope. He is wearing a suit and has a
rosary drapes over his hands.
Benny: Your holiness this is truly a great honour. I only wish my Adella
was here. But I guess she’s watching from up above.
Argyle: (He is standing beside his father.) Nobody knows that better
than you hey big guy,
Benny: Yeah, you know like human.
Argyle: I know he’s no lamina-pope.
Benny: Amazing.
Pope: (Speaking Italian.) “Monsignor Jarod told me all about you.”
Argyle: Argyle will never forget this baby. (He turns to where Jarod is
about to leave. Jarod is wearing the black robes of a clergyman complete
with a tall black mitre. He holds up his hand in blessing then winks before
leaving.) Your highness talk to me about the gift shop. What’s up with
those people down there? They don’t have any manners? They work for
you? You think you could kick us in a discount, me and my Pop? You
ever think about having those prayer cards laminated, huh? Hmm?
What’d you think?
CLOSING CREDITS
