True Detective
True Detective
True Detective
True Detective
True Detective
True Detective
True Detective
True Detective
Screen Genius & True Detective
True Detective
TITLE SEQUENCE
INT. CAR PARKED AT SCHOOL’S ENTRANCE – DAY
VELCORO: You all right, bud?
CHAD: Yeah, I’m okay.
VELCORO: Worried about the other kids?
CHAD: How much longer do I have to go to school?
VELCORO: A while longer, sorry to say.
Chad sighs.
VELCORO: You got that camping trip coming up next weekend, huh? That’ll be fun, right?
Chad says nothing.
VELCORO: Hey, you like your new kicks?
Chad nods.
VELCORO: All right. Go on, pal. Mom or Richard will pick you up. I’ll see you in two weeks, yeah? Head up. Strong.
Chad opens the car door.
VELCORO: Hey, I love you, buddy. Now be proud.
Chad gets down and walks to the school. He passes a group of children.
KIDS: Hey, Chad. Nice sweater. I really like it. Oh, and I like your shoes, too. They match your hair. It’s great.
Velcoro watches the scene from inside the car. Another car honks at Velcoro, who starts his and leaves.
INT. LAWYER’S STUDIO
VELCORO: It wasn’t an incident. She was– she was beaten. Raped.
HARRIS: I’m sorry, I need to ask. Your wife, was she pregnant at the time?
VELCORO: We think so.
HARRIS: You were trying a long time, right?
VELCORO: Mmm.
HARRIS: Your son was born nine months after what happened?
Velcoro nods.
HARRIS: And they never caught the man who did it, correct?
Velcoro takes a long pause.
VELCORO: No. They never caught the guy.
HARRIS: And how is the relationship with your son?
VELCORO: It’s good. It’s real good. I mean, he’s a– he’s a true-blue kid. You know? I have– I bought us– I got us these digital recorders. You see? So we can send each other letters, like, and express stuff, talk. Book said that can be effective.
HARRIS: So why do you feel your visitation rights should be expanded, Detective Velcoro?
VELCORO: Well, how about I raised him alone for two months when she took off? You know? It was me and him. She comes back, she’s talking divorce.
HARRIS: Did either of you request a paternity test?
VELCORO: No. My son is my son.
HARRIS: They’re gonna ask that question. More rudely than I just did.
VELCORO: Look, you’re not getting– there’s me and him and I’m his dad. And I just need you to come up with something, all right?
Velcoro throws a wad of money across the table.
HARRIS: You might have the wrong idea.
VELCORO: Why? You like paying taxes? Just…
HARRIS: You were with LA Sheriff’s Department eight years before Vinci PD.
Velcoro nods.
HARRIS: Anything there gonna hurt you?
VELCORO: No. I welcome judgment.
INT. BAR – DAY
Flashback, years before. Velcoro, shaved and younger, enters. Frank is sitting at the bar, Blake and Nails are next to him.
FRANK: Deputy Velcoro, right? This filth hurt your woman. We know this guy.
VELCORO: Tell me.
FRANK: Sometimes everybody’s not always on the same side. Fine, it’s business. But this no. Fuck that. Some things don’t stand.
VELCORO: What do you know about it?
Frank slides a little paper with a photograph across the bar. Velcoro, reluctant, takes it.
FRANK: Fits the description, right? My people know him. He’s not with us. Amphetamine freak. Bragged about it, said, well, matched your wife’s account.
VELCORO: How do you know my wife’s account?
FRANK: This is only information, man. Shit in the air. I’m sharing with you.
Velcoro nods.
FRANK: I wanted to do this. And now it’s done. That’s it.
VELCORO: What do you want from me?
FRANK: Me?
VELCORO: Yeah.
FRANK: Not a thing. Maybe we’ll talk sometime. Maybe not. Your wife, she doing better?
Velcoro ignores him and exits.
INT. FRANK HOUSE – DAY
Frank looks at himself in the mirror. He gets dressed.
JORDAN: Did you go to sleep?
FRANK: No. Big day. All the marbles.
Jordan fixes Frank shirt’s buttons.
JORDAN: Suits you better than you think.
FRANK: Behold what was once a man. You think I should have sprung for the country club?
JORDAN: Don’t put on airs. You don’t need to fake anything. You’re better than that.
They kiss.
INT. CASINO, FRANK’S OFFICE
FRANK: Caspere pitches at developers. Russians in for five. Somebody taking Osip through customs?
JORDAN: United Ambassadors are meeting him at the ramp.
BLAKE: Maybe I should have gone to the airport.
FRANK: Don’t want to look hungry. Never do anything out of hunger, not even eating.
Blake looks at a newspaper.
FRANK: What?
Blake hands the newspaper to Frank.
FRANK: The fuck? An eight-part series?
BLAKE: Talks city corruptions, sweatshops, nothing on us.
Frank looks at Blake angrily.
FRANK: Nothing, huh? What’s Osip gonna tweak from this? That we’re not buttoned down at the least.
BLAKE: Could put Tom or Ivar on the reporter you want, but I think–
FRANK: No, get Velcoro. He won’t get carried away.
JORDAN: If this story gets play, there could be a state investigation.
BLAKE: But I’m saying you’re not touched.
FRANK: This place is built on a codependency of interest. Worries me, you talking so stupid. (He gives Blake his empty glass and exits.)
JORDAN: Everybody gets touched.
EXT. STREETS – DAY
A man gets into a car. Someone with sunglasses sits in the back seat.
INT. CAR – DAY
The man in the back seat has injuries on his forehead. In the passenger seat, next to the black-dressed driver, is a raven mask.
The car takes Mulholland Drive.
INT. BEZZERIDES HOUSE – DAY
A door opening sounds and Bezzerides enters.
STEVE: Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Look, don’t let that ruin it. Just– it took me by surprise, was all. You know? I didn’t expect that.
BEZZERIDES: Forget it. Don’t worry about it.
STEVE: Oh, come on, we don’t have to stop, right? You know, it’s just I wasn’t really ready. I didn’t think– I mean, I don’t know. Do you– do you like that?
BEZZERIDES: Sometimes.
STEVE: Okay. I just didn’t think that most women– you know, you, would– I’m just used to– you know, I mean– have you done that a lot?
BEZZERIDES: Let’s not talk this to death.
STEVE: Hey, I still got some time before I report.
BEZZERIDES: Yeah, I’ve got to get ready for work.
STEVE: Can we talk? Please? I mean, forget this, what just happened. You know, I think this is good, right?
BEZZERIDES: Depends on what’s expected.
STEVE: Well, I wanted– I mean, I thought, you know, maybe we could talk about taking things forward.
BEZZERIDES: Steve, you’re a nice guy, but right now is not the time you want to have this conversation.
STEVE: Okay. But if you–
BEZZERIDES: Can you get your stuff? ‘Cause I gotta get going.
STEVE: Yeah.
EXT. RURAL AREA – DAY
A squad of policemen with guns approaches a house in the middle of the fields.
INT. RURAL HOUSE – DAY
OFFICERS: Sheriff’s Department!
OWNER OF THE HOUSE: Yo, what’s this?
BEZZERIDES: Hands! Hands! On your knees. You running hookers?
The cops open the doors.
OFFICERS: Right there! Stay there! Sheriff’s Department! Hands up! Get up! Get up! Clear!
BEZZERIDES: All right, everybody out. Let’s go. Let’s go. Let’s go. Come on.
OFFICERS: Right here, right here. Let’s go, move, move. Clear in the back.
Bezzerides enters a room in which the Owner is on his knees and handcuffed.
BEZZERIDES: What is this?
OWNER: Webcams. Private subscribers. Totally legit. We ain’t broke no law of yours.
BEZZERIDES: Got IDs for these girls? Visas?
OWNER: They American, that what you mean?
BEZZERIDES: Who here is an American? Say “I am an American” one by one.
One by one, each of the prostitutes says “I am an American”.
OWNER: This is private property.
BEZZERIDES: Shut the fuck up.
OFFICERS: Come on, now. Everybody out. Let’s go. Let’s go, on your feet.
Bezzerides watch a woman who is leaving the house among other prostitutes.
BEZZERIDES: Hey!
Bezzerides looks at her with disapproval.
EXT. RURAL HOUSE – DAY
BEZZERIDES: All right. I ran this op because I heard a rumor. Unbelievable. Porn.
ATHENA: It’s not porn, okay? Not everybody has a problem with sex. I’m a performer.
BEZZERIDES: Oh, okay, I’m sorry. So this is like some kind of Meryl Streep type expressive creativity? I– are you off your meds?
ATHENA: God, you’re fucking hilarious, man. You want people to stop screwing and start taking drugs, right? That is so typical. So typical you.
BEZZERIDES: That’s not– This isn’t right. It’s not healthy.
ATHENA: Not healthy? Really? And what do you know about being healthy? When you walk, it’s like erasers clapping.
BEZZERIDES: Okay.
ATHENA: This isn’t your business.
BEZZERIDES: So what is this? This is like another “I hate my sister” cycle? When does that stop? You take another bust?
ATHENA: Bust doing what? Masturbating? I’m straight edge now, okay? I’m totally clean.
BEZZERIDES: Okay, then maybe you should get back on something.
ATHENA: You know, what you say are my problems, are really your fucking problems.
Athena runs away. Bezzerides stays dejected. Elvis approaches her carefully.
ELVIS: Don’t think we got anything. They even have the business license.
BEZZERIDES: Yep.
EXT. VELCORO HOUSE – DAY
Velcoro exits his house. Passes a car and takes a paper from the windshield, reads it, breaks it into pieces and puts it in his pocket. A few steps far is the Police Station, and he enters.
INT. POLICE STATION, HOLLOWAY’S OFFICE – DAY
Velcoro reads a newspaper. Across the desk is Holloway. Leaning on the desk, Burris.
HOLLOWAY: That low background rumble is the sound of paper shredders on the third floor. First part of a series, it says. Talks about municipal salaries, undocumented workers, pollution, policing practices.
BURRIS: He uses the word extortionary.
VELCORO: Are we expecting subpoenas?
HOLLOWAY: You know Ben Caspere, the city manager?
BURRIS: Gone missing. Second day he hasn’t shown up for work. Lots of people looking for him.
VELCORO: Fix on his phone?
BURRIS: Shut off.
HOLLOWAY: Mayor Chessani’s on DEFCON. His office has been on the horn all morning. Some big meeting today.
BURRIS: Get with Teague Dixon on this. Caspere is officially a missing person.
VELCORO: Dixon? Seriously, Lieutenant, he’s–
HOLLOWAY: We’re lucky just to detail the two of you.
VELCORO: Uh, you know where I should start?
BURRIS: City manager’s office, I imagine.
VELCORO: All right.
EXT. ROAD – DAY
Woodrugh patrols the road on his motorcycle. A car show ups at high speed and crosses lanes. Woodrugh starts the siren, chases the car and pulls it over. Lacey Lindel, a beautiful young woman, is driving it.
WOODRUGH: License and registration, please, ma’am.
LINDEL: Uh, yes. Yeah.
Lindel searches at the glove compartment. Woodrugh notes she is using an ankle bracelet.
LINDEL: Um. I, um– don’t have my license on me right now. It’s at my house. It’s just, like, a mile away in Malibu. I’m really close.
WOODRUGH: You had anything to drink this morning, ma’am?
LINDEL: To drink? No. No, sir. Well, I absolutely have not ha– have not have had anything to drink.
WOODRUGH: Would you step out of the car for me, ma’am?
LINDEL: Sir, please, if I get in trouble again– Look, I pay my parents’ bills for them and… (She pauses, thinking.) Um, look, maybe you could just escort me home… and we could talk or do something. A trade, like–(She bits her lips, provocative.)
INT. POLICE STATION – DAY
FLOYD: Hell, I know, Paul. We all know it’s bullshit. “Soliciting a blowjob to avoid a citation.” That ain’t you, kid. But it’s cut the tabloids on that mercenary work.
WOODRUGH: This actress, she violated her parole by leaving the fucking house to score, I guess. Swerves into traffic high, freaks, I’m getting flushed.
FLOYD: No.
WOODRUGH: Yes.
FLOYD: Administrative leave with pay just until IA finishes.
WOODRUGH: The Black Mountain work, do you know how hard they’re looking?
Floyd pauses, tired.
FLOYD: You got a little vacation, that’s all. Comes back around about this girl, and it will, you’ll be reinstated.
WOODRUGH: Back on the bike? I like the bike, sir. The highway, it suits me. I am no good on the sidelines.
FLOYD: The other watch commanders want me to convey our full support.
Woodrugh grins, disappointed. He stands up.
WOODRUGH: Black Mountain. We were working for America, sir.
FLOYD: I know you were, son.
Woodrugh exits. As he is leaving the Station, he passes a fellow cop.
COP: Woodrugh, tell me it’s true.
The Cop and a partner laugh. Woodrugh don’t respond. Angrily, he opens the door and leaves the building.
INT. CASINO, HALL – DAY
FRANK: Hey, Bart. Enjoying it?
BART: Yes.
They shake hands.
FRANK: All right.
JORDAN: Nice to see you.
BART: Good to see you, too.
Frank and Jordan walk through the hall.
FRANK: Mayor. You heard from Caspere?
CHESSANI: Newspaper shit couldn’t wait, huh? Federal contracts come through, they can write all the stories they fucking want.
FRANK: Newspaper’s not gonna be a problem.
JORDAN: Let’s allow an afternoon for celebration, gents.
FRANK: See that? I tell people it’s her brains.
Frank kisses Jordan.
JORDAN: Maybe you’d like something to eat?
VERONICA: Please.
Jordan and Veronica go to the food table. Chessani follows them.
FRANK: See you in a bit.
CHESSANI: Yeah.
Frank sees McCandless across the room, they both rise their glasses.
BLAKE: Caspere hasn’t been to work in two days.
FRANK: He hasn’t? This is his entire goddamn pitch. Watch the mayor. He’s getting a load on. You think I should have sprung for the country club?
BLAKE: Nah. What did you say about looking hungry?
FRANK: Osip landed yet?
BLAKE: Just touched down.
INT. CASPERE’S OFFICE
Velcoro and Laura, Caspere’s secretary, are seated and talking. Dixon looks bored.
VELCORO: No family?
LAURA: Bachelor.
VELCORO: He didn’t have any trips on the books? Not the type to just take off?
LAURA: No, sir. He wouldn’t leave without saying something. He had been going up to Monterey and the Russian River Valley a lot, but he wouldn’t be out of touch like this.
VELCORO: He mentioned anything about the newspaper? You know, that journalist.
LAURA: Nothing I’ve heard. I’ve only been here about six weeks, though. I didn’t know a whole lot about him yet.
VELCORO: Bad blood? Any enemies?
LAURA: I don’t think so. I mean, not like enemies. Mr. Caspere sort of holds the purse strings for a lot of stuff. A lot of people have to go through him.
VELCORO: Okay. Can you give us a list of his properties?
LAURA: I– well, I guess that’s okay.
DIXON: Sure, it is. We’re the police.
EXT. CASPERE HOUSE – DAY
Velcoro and Dixon enter the house.
DIXON: Big place for one guy.
Velcoro opens the door with a wire. They enter.
INT. CASPERE HOUSE – DAY
They start looking around. Velcoro looks at a sculpture of a naked girl.
VELCORO: Hey, you see that, too, right?
Velcoro looks around, followed by Dixon.
VELCORO: Now we got us something-something.
They climb the stairs to another floor.
VELCORO: You ever meet this guy?
DIXON: Once or twice. Some civic thing. (Chuckles) I had no idea he was so… adventurous.
They go down the stairs.
DIXON: You know, I got instructions. Anything happens to me, you burn all my shit quick.
Dixon points something.
DIXON: Took the computer.
VELCORO: This is fucked. We need a tech crew in here for prints. Anything they can catch. Catalog what’s left behind.
DIXON: We should let the bosses know.
VELCORO: You sure they don’t know already? We need to treat this like a 207.
DIXON: What?
VELCORO: Kidnapping. Teague, we don’t belong on this.
INT. CASINO, HALL
Osip come down the stairs and approaches Frank.
OSIP: Francis Semyon! Look now at you.
They kiss hello.
OSIP: This man in the ‘90s, what a terror. The good life suits you.
Jordan approaches.
JORDAN: Osip, have a champagne. (She hands Osip a glass and raise hers.) To friends and the future.
FRANK: Hear, hear.
OSIP: Frank, I don’t think you met Michael in Paris. Michael Bugulari, my attorney.
MICHAEL: Nice to meet you, Mr. Semyon. (They shake hands.)
JORDAN: Osip, you should meet some people. Contractors, developers.
Jordan, Osip and Michael leave. Frank stays with Blake at his side.
FRANK: If he turns up, I’m gonna put my size 13 so far up Caspere’s ass.
BLAKE: He’ll spit shoelaces?
Frank looks at Blake.
EXT. ROAD – DAY
The car with the black-dressed driver is on the road. Due to a sudden movement of the car, the man in the backseat falls and hit his head on the window.
EXT. FIELDS – DAY
Bezzerides and Elvis come out of a car. Walking towards a house at the end of the path.
BEZZERIDES: They should make the fucking banks deliver these things.
INT. FIELDS HOUSE – DAY
WOMAN: This the best they got for police to do? Take people’s houses?
ELVIS: They just make us drop the paper, ma’am. We are sorry.
WOMAN: You want to be police? Why don’t y’all find my sister?
BEZZERIDES: Uh, who’s that? She missing?
WOMAN: My little sister Vera. (She hands Bezzerides a photograph.) She’s 24.
BEZZERIDES: How long she been missing?
WOMAN: We’re not sure. I mean, about a month ago, I hadn’t heard from her for a few weeks. Started calling, getting voice mail. One day it’s disconnected. I go to her apartment. Her old roommate says she moved out a while back. Took all her stuff. They didn’t know where.
BEZZERIDES: Does she have a job?
WOMAN: She worked as a maid at a couple of places. But they said she quit.
BEZZERIDES: Well, could you come down, file a report, and we could get started on it?
WOMAN: We told city police. Never heard anything. Last place she worked, this, like, religious place, an institute.
BEZZERIDES: Panticapaeum? The Panticapaeum Institute?
WOMAN: Yeah, that’s it. What are we gonna do?
INT. CASINO, HALL
Frank stands in front of a crowded room, among which are Chessani, McCandless and Osip. Behind him, some plans and a mockup.
FRANK: Our city manager, Ben Caspere, was going to be here to explain this, but I suppose I can approximate the information. So everybody knows Proposition 1 has passed. And next year construction will start on a $68 billion high-speed rail up Central California. An undeveloped valley adjacent to the rail and the coastal highway has been purchased by several holding companies anticipating a commercial development that will be in line for hundreds of millions in federal grants. And the feds have guaranteed cost overages.
Approval sounds among the crowd.
EXT. PENTICAPAEUM INSTITUTE – DAY
Bezzerides and Elvis walk up some stairs and look around. They approach a Elliot, who is lecturing for a group of people.
ELLIOT: I was told something a long time ago. Let me share it with you. When you see only with God’s eyes, you see only the truth. And you recognize a meaningless universe. (He acknowledges the presence of the detectives and continues.) Ginsberg said this to me once. And it was a gift. So today’s exercise is to recognize the world as meaningless and to understand that God did not create a meaningless world. Hold both thoughts as irrefutable and equal, because this is how we must live now… in the final age of man.
INT. INSTITUTE’S KITCHEN – DAY
MAID 1: She gave her notice maybe two months back.
BEZZERIDES: Any forwarding address?
MAID 2: No, she said she got a new job, less hours, more money. Told me she was working, like, some club circuit. She mentioned Sonoma, I think.
ELVIS: All right if we talk to the rest of your staff?
MAID 1: Of course.
INT. CASPERE HOUSE – DAY
Forensic scientists takes photograph and recollect evidence from the scene.
INT. CAR, PARKED IN A STREET – DAY
Velcoro drinks liqueur from a hip flask. He stares at a car parking at some distance. A girl is smoking crack, lying on the ground. He looks at a printed photograph that reads “Dan Howser – Senior Staff Writer”. The man from the photograph gets down the car and enters a house.
Velcoro gets down his car, with gloves on his hands and puts a ski mask. Turns to the girl smoking crack and indicates silence with a finger next to his mouth. He climbs the stairs, kicks the door and enter Dan Howser’s house. For the movements near the window we know Velcoro is beating him.
EXT. PENTICAPEUM INSTITUTE – DAY
Bezzerides and Elliot walk around the Institute.
ELLIOT: I may have seen her. Just on the grounds, but, no. No, not speak to her. I wouldn’t know her name. I still have an office, but I don’t spend as much time here as I used to. Just a few lectures a year. I’ve wondered how you are.
BEZZERIDES: You talk to Athena?
ELLIOT: A few days ago, actually. She seems good. Clear eye, has a job.
BEZZERIDES: You talk to her that much? Do you know what her job is?
ELLIOT: Something on the Internet. Web camera performances, she said. Athena, goddess of love. I won’t go near computers, you understand.
BEZZERIDES: She’s doing porn.
ELLIOT: Well, what exactly is porn? I remember, you see, when the status quo, they labeled anything they didn’t like pornography.
BEZZERIDES: Avant-garde cinema, then, featuring live sex acts for paying customers.
ELLIOT: She has a different outlook. Athena said it was theater.
BEZZERIDES: God damn. You don’t have any feeling, your daughter doing that?
ELLIOT: Well, what would you have me do, Antigone? Since I’ve never been good at guessing your needs.
BEZZERIDES: Maybe talk her into doing something with her life. Maybe convey some guidance, some values she could carry.
ELLIOT: We have always disagreed here. I am not comfortable imposing my will on anyone and I haven’t been since 1978.
BEZZERIDES: Not even to stop them walking into a river.
ELLIOT: Yes, not even then. And if your mother’s flair for drama had been more present in her acting, she might have gone on to great things. (Bezzerides looks down, disappointed.) These totems, they watch over departed spirits. I’ve always felt your mother among them.
BEZZERIDES: You won’t even own it a little.
ELLIOT: She abandoned the two of you, I didn’t. You should spend less time in a state of resistance making up problems for yourself.
BEZZERIDES: What does that mean?
ELLIOT: A failed marriage, a few relationships, you’re angry at the entire world and men in particular out of a false sense of entitlement for something you never received. Your entire personality is an extended criticism of my values. Meant, I’m sure, to compel me into engagement through argument. Do you even like what you do? Or is it just a reflexive urge toward authority out of defiance?
BEZZERIDES: Talk to your daughter, prick. Help her. (She walks away, angry.)
ELLIOT: I just did.
EXT. SCHOOL ENTRANCE – DAY
Velcoro hurries to meet Chad, who is waiting in front of the school.
VELCORO: Hey, bud.
CHAD: Dad?
VELCORO: Hey.
Richard appears from the side.
RICHARD: Hey, Ray. You’re not till next Friday.
Velcoro ignores him and shows Chad a wrapped sleeping bag.
VELCORO: Hey, buddy, I knew you had a camping trip coming up and I just wanted to– here, it’s a Coleman. It’s, like, top line.
CHAD: Oh, thanks.
VELCORO: Yeah.
RICHARD: Camping trip was last weekend. He ended up having a stomachache.
Velcoro nods, confused, and looks at Chad’s feet.
VELCORO: Wait a minute. Where’s your shoes?
CHAD: What?
RICHARD: He’s wearing shoes. Ray, you been drinking?
VELCORO: Not those, the Nikes. The fucking LeBron’s or whatever. The tennis shoes he begged– You know what I’m talking about.
CHAD: I just didn’t wear them.
VELCORO: You realize I tell when people are lying for a living? (Chad is uncomfortable.)
RICHARD: All right, Ray. Let’s talk about this later. Is that– is that blood on your sleeve?
VELCORO (Ignoring Richard): What happened to your shoes?
RICHARD: It was a little thing that happened last week. Boys.
VELCORO: What happened?
Velcoro takes angrily Chad by his shirt and talks to him very closely, articulating each word.
VELCORO: What happened to your shoes?
RICHARD: Ray, God damn it.
Richard tries to stop Velcoro and Velcoro pushes him away.
RICHARD: They took his shoes out of his gym locker.
VELCORO: And what? What, shit on them?
RICHARD: They cut ‘em up. That’s it. Christ, man, come on. This isn’t good for him.
VELCORO: Who was it, boy?
RICHARD: Ray, stop it. Let’s talk later somewhere else.
VELCORO: Jesus, God, you fat pussy. You’re gonna give me a kid’s name right now or I’ll pull down your pants and I’ll spank you in front of the fucking cheerleading squad. (Chad looks at Richard asking for help.) Don’t look at him! You look at me! You tell me the name of that kid, Chad. I’m gonna count to three. One, two–
CHAD: Aspen. Aspen Conroy.
VELCORO: Aspen? That’s a boy’s name?
Velcoro releases Chad and he runs away scared.
RICHARD: Chad. God damn it, Ray. What the hell is the matter with you? Asshole.
Richard goes behind Chad. Velcoro stays on his place, with a constrained face.
INT. CAR – DAY
Velcoro is inside his car, parked at the school entrance, talking to a digital recorder. He looks ashamed.
VELCORO: We just had a– a thing, me and you. Totally, totally my fault. Childhood is so scary. I used– I used to want to be an astronaut. But astronauts don’t even go to the moon anymore.
It sounds a beep, and a Dispatch talks to Velcoro through the police radio.
DISPATCH: Detective Velcoro?
Velcoro pauses the recorder and takes the radio.
VELCORO: Yeah.
DISPATCH: Yeah, got that Conroy address you wanted. Place in Sherman Oaks.
Velcoro pauses, considering whether or not he wants this information.
VELCORO: Go.
DISPATCH: Last name Conroy, first name Wit. 982…
INT. CAR – DAY
Elvis and Bezzerides inside a car, on the road. He drives, she is looking through the window, and reads a paper.
ELVIS: And your pop, he’s a piece of work, huh?
BEZZERIDES: Don’t talk about my family, Elvis.
INT. POLICE STATION, WOMEN’S LOCKROOM
Bezzerides, with her hair still wet, finishes dressing. She puts a knife in her belt and another in her boot.
INT. WOODRUGH HOUSE
Woodrugh enters the department, and before seeing him Emily starts talking.
EMILY: Come on back, baby. I’ve got something for you.
Woodrugh enters the bedroom and finds Emily on the bed, undressed.
EMILY: It’s been a week, Mr. Policeman. Get that dick over here.
They kiss.
WOODRUGH: Hold that thought. I’m pretty rank. Let me jump in the shower. I’m gonna get clean for you.
EMILY: I like it when you stink. I don’t mind.
WOODRUGH: Five minutes and I’ll be right out.
EMILY: Can I soap you up?
WOODRUGH: No, I like you the way you are. (Emily tries to unbutton his jeans and he backs off.) One hot shower, I’m ready to go.
EMILY: I’m timing you, Officer Woodrugh.
Woodrugh enters the bathroom and close the door.
INT. WOODRUGH HOUSE, BATHROOM
He looks in the mirror, opens a bottle, takes a blue pill and pops it. He sits on the closed toilet and looks at his watch.
INT. WOODRUGH HOUSE, BEDROOM
The door clicks open.
EMILY: Jeez, that was like 30 minutes. I thought you had drowned. What took you so–
She turned around to see Woodrugh appearing naked with a towel around his waist and a notable erection.
WOODRUGH: It’s been a long day. I had to work some kinks out.
EMILY: Well, I’ve got a place right here where you can work that kink out.
Emily crawls to him, takes off his towel and starts giving him a blowjob.
INT. CASINO, FRANK’S OFFICE
Frank and Osip stand in the middle of the room. Behind Frank are Jordan and a Man. Behind Osip, his attorney Michael.
FRANK: Osip, we talked this through in Paris. Caspere’s absence don’t mean a thing.
MAN: It is happening, though. Vinci tapped fed money from the subway line, and the same thing will happen on a much, much bigger scale with the rail corridor.
FRANK: Owned by our holding companies. Set up through Catalast. This goes beyond us. A legitimate legacy. Chance for the grandkids to be part of one of those old California families. Don’t even remember where the money comes from.
OSIP: Let’s talk more at dinner.
FRANK: Give us a minute, friends.
Everybody except Osip leaves the room. Frank sits on his desk.
FRANK: I thought we already had an agreement, Osip?
OSIP: Frank, you know you have my complete confidence, but our organization has very old rules. Checks and balances. I have to perform my due diligence.
FRANK: Sure. Sure. But, Osip, it’s a buy-in. I thought you were here to close.
OSIP: I will close when I’m ready to close. Do not rush me, Frank.
Frank stands up.
FRANK: Sure. Yeah, of course. You guys should relax. Get some rest before dinner.
OSIP: I look forward to meeting Caspere.
Osip finishes his drink and hands the empty glass to Frank. He takes it and watches Osip leaving the room. Frank is now alone.
FRANK: Fuckin’ Caspere.
Frank throws the glass into the wall, breaking it in pieces.
EXT. WIT HOUSE, PORCH – NIGHT
The front door is open, Wit is inside and Velcoro on the porch.
WIT: What could you have to talk to my son about?
VELCORO: Relax, it’s nothing. Maybe I just want to ask him about some stolen property. Look, bud, you want to call him out and maybe we can take care of this, you know, right here? You don’t even have to tell the missus.
WIT: Yeah, hold on.
VELCORO: Um– Great.
While he waits for the boy, Velcoro puts on brass knuckles.
WIT (O.S.): Hey, son? It’ll just be a second, honey.
Wit and Aspen show up.
WIT: This man’s with the police. He says he has something to ask you.
VELCORO: You like to bully kids, Ass-head.
Wit puts himself between Velcoro and Aspen.
WIT: Hold on, what is this?
VELCORO: You’re 12 years old and you’re already evil as fuck.
WIT: Hey, you can’t talk–
Velcoro punches Wit in the face, and he falls. Aspen tries to run away getting inside the house, but Velcoro grabs him by the neck.
ASPEN: No!
VELCORO: You’re gonna run out on your dad? Take a look. He’s doing this for you.
Without letting Aspen go, Velcoro continues kicking and punching Wit.
ASPEN: Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!
Aspen tries to escape. Velcoro grabs him by his shirt and faces him.
VELCORO: Stop? Stop? I thought that got you off, kid– seeing people in pain. If you ever bully or hurt anybody again, I’ll come back and butt-fuck your father with your mom’s headless corpse on this goddamn lawn.
Velcoro makes a pause and takes a good look at Aspen.
VELCORO: 12 years old, my ass. Fuck you!
Aspen leans to help Wit, who’s lying unconscious and bleeding on the ground. Velcoro gets into his car and starts it quickly. Wit’s wife appears on the front door, sees Wit on the ground and Aspen reaching him.
WIFE: Oh, my God, Wit!
EXT. ROAD – NIGHT
The car with the man with sunglasses in the backseat is on the road. He parks in the middle of nowhere. The driver gets down the car, goes to the back seat and takes the backseat man. He drags the body through the floor.
INT. WOODRUGH HOUSE, BEDROOM
Woodrugh and Emily are lying on the bed, cuddling. Emily touches his shoulder scars.
EMILY: What’s this one? The big one. I know you don’t like talking about the army, but I keep wondering–
WOODRUGH: It’s not from the army. It’s from before. A long time ago.
Woodrugh suddenly gets up from bed and starts dressing.
EMILY: What are you doing?
WOODRUGH: I’m working on something. Just got to check it out.
EMILY: How are you working on something? You’re on leave.
WOODRUGH: It’s a side job, babe. Told a friend I’d help him out.
EMILY: That sounds like bullshit, Paul.
WOODRUGH: Hey, it’s not. I swear.
EMILY: Are you ever gonna spend the night?
WOODRUGH: Hey, there’s no one else. It’s just right now my life is kind of fucked. I gotta keep working. I need to do something. I need to work.
EMILY: You need to come back to bed.
Woodrugh kisses her.
WOODRUGH: It’s just work. That’s it.
Woodrugh goes to the bathroom. Emily stays in bed, angry and disappointed.
EXT. ROAD – NIGHT
Woodrugh is on his bike, speeding and looking at the odometer.
INT. RESTAURANT
Velcoro and Frank are sitting on a booth, drinking whisky and listening to a young female singer performing with a guitar. Nails and Blake are standing close to them. Velcoro looks sad. He puts a laptop and some files on the table.
VELCORO: These are all his files and his laptop. I asked him how long he thought it took Stephen Hawking to type a piece of investigative journalism. He ain’t gonna be writing that story no more.
FRANK: Good. Yeah. Give him something to chew on.
Frank takes an envelope from his suit and hands it to Velcoro, who puts it in his suit. Velcoro pours some whisky in his glass and drinks it to the bottom. Frank smiles.
FRANK: Supposed to savor that.
VELCORO: Yeah? Let me try it again.
Velcoro serves himself whisky, he raises his glass and Frank responds. Frank leaves his untouched glass on the table. Velcoro drinks it and fill the glass one more time.
FRANK: Tying one on?
VELCORO: Not particularly.
FRANK: How’s your kid? You talk to that lawyer I put you with?
VELCORO: Harris? Yeah. Yeah. She’s gonna see what she can do. She said, you know, don’t get my hopes up.
Frank nods. Felicia, the waitress, approaches to the table.
FELICIA: Is your dinner okay, Ray?
VELCORO: Yeah.
FELICIA: You want something else?
VELCORO: No, thank you, darling.
Felicia smiles at Velcoro and leaves.
FRANK: You seeing anybody? A woman?
VELCORO: There something else I’d be seeing? Nah, not interested in anything like that anymore.
FRANK: Need to get back on that horse, my friend. A good woman mitigates our baser tendencies. You got time. Have more kids.
They both drink.
FRANK: We’re trying. Gonna be doing this… IVF thing. I tell you, I ain’t looking forward to jerking off in no cup.
They grin.
VELCORO: Huh. No.
Velcoro empties his glass and throws it on the table.
FRANK: Anyways, good job with the thing.
VELCORO: Sure.
Velcoro takes cocaine from his pocket and snorts it.
BLAKE: Jordan has our friends at the Soho Bar. We should join them.
FRANK: Right.
Frank finishes his glass, gets up and puts a hand on Velcoro’s shoulder.
FRANK: Take care, Raymond. Talk soon.
VELCORO: Yeah.
Blake goes to the table and reaches for the whisky bottle. Velcoro stops him. They look at each other. Blake leaves the bottle and leaves. Velcoro continues pouring and drinking. He stays in the booth listening to the singer.
INT. CASINO
Bezzerides is gambling at a table and drinking. With a gesture she orders the waitress another drink.
EXT. ROAD – NIGHT
Woodrugh is on his bike, speeding and looking at the odometer. He clenches and put out the bike’s light, not seeing where he is driving. After a few seconds:
WOODRUGH: Fuck!
He turns back on the light and loses control of the bike. With considerable effort, he manages to stop the bike without falling. He is exhausted and breathing rapidly. Looking down, he talks to himself.
WOODRUGH: Stop it. You motherfucker.
He lifts his head and sees a man seating in a bench, in the middle of nowhere.
WOODRUGH: What the fuck?
Woodrugh gets down the bike and approaches the man in the bench.
WOODRUGH: Sir?
Woodrugh looks at him carefully. He takes the man’s sunglasses, looks at his eyes and puts him the sunglasses back. Woodrugh looks at a wallet placed on the man’s leg, and carefully opens it. Turns on a flashlight and looks at the man’s ID, which indicates the man is Caspere.
WOORUGH: Fuck.
Woodrugh takes the cell phone and dials. Before anyone picks up:
WOODRUGH: Fuck.
OPERATOR: 911, what’s your emergency?
INT. RESTAURANT
Velcoro fell asleep sitting alone on the booth. A woman close to him is sweeping. A few steps afar, Felicia whispers her:
FELICIA: Lucia. Limpia los vasos. Deja que descanse. (Go clean the glasses. Let him rest.)
Felicia continues cleaning the bar, and looks at Velcoro sleeping.
EXT. CASINO – NIGHT
Bezzerides, with a plastic cup in her hand comes out of the Casino, escorted by two security guys. She drinks the last bit of the glass, turns around showing them her middle finger.
BEZZERIDES: Fuck your…
She throws his cup at them and leaves the entrance. While she is walking away, her cell phone rings and she picks it up.
BEZZERIDES: Yeah, El?
Bezzerides stops walking and listens.
INT. RESTAURANT
Velcoro is woken up by his vibrating phone. He picks it up.
VELCORO: Lieutenant.
LIEUTENANT: I need you in Ventura. PCH, Point Mugu. Use the sirens.
VELCORO: What? How? Why?
LIEUTENANT: They found Ben Caspere.
EXT. SIDE OF THE ROAD – NIGHT
Caspere’s body is still seated on the bench. In front and around him, stands Elvis, Bezzerides, Woodrugh and a Medical Examiner.
EXAMINER: Eyes are gone, obviously. Looks like chemical burn. Acid, maybe.
The camera focuses on Caspere’s empty eyes.
EXAMINER: Some kind of other abrasion in the sockets. Can’t call COD yet, but he bled out somewhere else. Severe pelvic wound.
A police car approaches the group.
BEZZERIDES: That’s the guy we’ve been waiting on?
Velcoro gets out of the car.
VELCORO: Velcoro, Vinci PD.
Velcoro studies Caspere’s face and eyes.
VELCORO: This man’s a missing person with us.
BEZZERIDES: Ilinca, Bezzerides, Ventura Sheriff CID.
WOODRUGH: Paul Woodrugh, CHP.
ELVIS: The fuck is Vinci?
VELCORO: A city, supposedly.
Elvis walks away upset and mumbles to himself.
ELVIS: That’s bullshit.
Velcoro, Bezzerides and Woodrugh look at each other suspiciously. The camera zooms out to reveal the scene is next to the ocean as dawn approaches.
END EPISODE
The Western Book of the Dead was written by Nic Pizzolatto.