A Likely Story
[campsite; Fraser,
Kowalski & Dief sit by a fire]
Fraser:
[dramatically]
High atop Sulfur Mountain in his lonely
stone cabin, Loooooooou
Scagnetti heard a knock at the door.
*boom, boom,
boom* So
he opened it.
*
creeeeak*
And there on his stoop stood the beautiful princess from
the valley below. And the wind whipped about her hair and
the snow swirled about her. And
Loooooooou Scagnetti froze.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do.
He didn’t know whether to kill her and eat her, or whether
to bake her some of those tarts he was so fond of, the
ones that feature choke cherries with brown lichen and
little bits of dust--
Ray:
Fraser.
Fraser:
What?
Ray: What are
you doing?
Fraser: I’m
telling you a ghost story. It is customary to exchange
ghost stories around a campfire in the wilderness.
Ray: We’re not
in the wilderness.
[police siren sounds and car horn
blares]
Fraser: It’s an
approximation of wilderness.
Ray: No, it’s
not, Fraser. We are in a park in the middle of Chicago. I
had to step over a wino and kick two junkies just to get
here. This is not the Yukon Territories.
Fraser: It’s
the Northwest Territory or the Yukon. The thing is, I was
feeling a little suffocated at the consulate. I just felt
I needed some room to breathe.
Ray: Yeah well,
I got two things to say about that. One, you are not
Daniel Boone, and two, this air? Uh, the less room to
breathe, the better.
Fraser: Dinner?
[offers
plate]
Ray
: No, thanks.
Fraser: Oh, you
really should. Everything tastes much better cooked over
an open fire.
[admonishes]
Dief!
Ray: Oh, yeah?
What about spaghetti?
[takes
plate]
Fraser: Oh,
it’s delicious. And those
rooty tubers there. Very tasty
also.
Ray:
[tastes]
Mmm. Where’d you get this?
Fraser:
Diefenbaker dug them up under that tree over there.
[Kowalski spits it
out]
[bell
tinkles]
Fraser: Oh,
here we go again. Mr. Tucci and his pretzels.
Mr.
Tucci:
Buonasera
, Signore
Red
Coat.
Fraser: Mr.
Tucci, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Ray.
He’s with the Chicago Police Department.
Mr.
Tucci:
Buonasera
.
Ray: How’s it
going?
Mr. Tucci: It
goes.
[Dief
barks]
Mr. Tucci:
[to
Dief] Hey,
there’s my boy!
[gives him pretzel
& says something in Italian]
Fraser: Mr.
Tucci, you spoil him. Here, please, let me-–
[reaches for
money]
Mr. Tucci: No,
no, no. Is end of day, not so fresh. I charge only for
fresh. That way I keep my reputation. I better go home. My
wife, she worry for me.
Arrivederci
.
Fraser: See you
tomorrow.
Mr.
Tucci:
Si.
Ciao
. [exits]
Ray: Nice
guy.
Fraser: Yes, he
is. He and his wife celebrate their 40th
anniversary next week. They had hoped to go to Sardinia
for a visit, but Mrs. Tucci is very ill. She requires
around-the-clock nursing.
Ray: Where’s
Sardinia?
Fraser: It’s in
the Mediterranean. It’s an island --
[gunshot]
[Fraser runs to check on Mr. Tucci; Kowalski goes the
other way after a
rollerblader; Mr. Tucci lies
supine]
Mr. Tucci: My
wife, she’s worried for me.
Fraser:
Everything is going to be all right, sir. Help is on its
way.
Mr. Tucci:
Please, look after my wife.
Fraser:
Yes.
Ray: Chicago
PD! [tackles
rollerblader]
Rollerblader:
Scumbag!
[kicks Kowalski
right in the face]
Ray: Stop,
stop, stop! Police officer. I’m a police officer. Just,
just... Ah! God!
Mr.
Tucci:
Buona notte, mi
amore
. [dies]
[GTO]
Fraser: So
how’s your nose?
Ray: That was
some kick.
Fraser: She was
innocent, Ray. She thought you were attacking her.
[they pull into driveway]
Fraser : [to Dief] Wait here.
Ray
: Fraser, you don’t have to do this. This is my job.
Fraser: Well, I
promised Mr. Tucci that I would look after his wife.
That’s a promise I intend to keep.
[knock
knock
knock]
Luanne Russell:
[sultry]
Yes?
Ray: Um, uh,
Miss Tucci? We’re with the police.
Luanne: Come on
in.
[Fraser ‘looks’ at Kowalski, then they enter]
Luanne
: Mrs. Tucci, these men are with the police.
Mrs. Tucci: Oh,
Mr. Red Coat!
Ray:
[gently]
Um, I’m sorry, ma’am, uh, there’s been a
shooting. I’m afraid your husband is dead--
Mrs. Tucci:
What you say? I’m sorry, I don’t hear you.
Luanne: Oh my
god.
Ray: I’m sorry,
ma’am. There’s been a shooting, and I’m afraid your
husband is dead.
Mrs. Tucci:
Franco!
Ray: Yeah.
We’re just starting the investigation. I’m very
sorry.
Mrs. Tucci : [gasping] Oh, Dio mio... [crosses herself]
Luanne : I should take her to her room.
Mrs. Tucci : [sobbing] Oh, oh... Franco...
[outside]
Ray: Wow!
Fraser:
Wow?
Ray: She’s
something else.
Fraser: Ray, if
you don’t mind me saying, that is a staggeringly
insensitive remark considering the circumstances.
Ray: Look,
Fraser, I’m very sorry for Mrs. Tucci’s loss, and I will
make every effort to find the killer of her husband, but
the fact remains she is a very beautiful woman.
Fraser:
Possibly.
Ray: No
possibly about it.
[27th
precinct]
Ray: I don’t
know who has less sex, me or you, but at least I still
think about women. Is that better or worse?
Fraser: It’s an
interesting question.
Ray: Thank
you.
[bullpen]
Welsh: Vecchio!
Where do we stand on the Tucci homicide?
Ray: He was
killed with a .32 caliber. At this point, we suspect
everyone and no one.
Welsh: Well,
you can rule out robbery as a motive. This was found on
the cart. [holds
out stack of money]
Ray: How much
is there?
Fraser:
[runs hand down the
stack]
$4,000.
Welsh: Right.
Now what’s a peanut vendor doing with $4,000?
Fraser: Well,
it’s not peanuts, sir.
Welsh: Damn
right it’s not.
Fraser: It’s
pretzels, sir.
Welsh:
Whatever.
Francesca: He’s
got a record.
Ray: Who?
Welsh: The
deceased. He did six months for receiving stolen property
in 1953.
Ray: Why are we
investigating the deceased?
Welsh: Because
we’re doing a full investigation.
Francesca:
Yeah, ‘cause he’s Italian.
Welsh:
What?
Francesca: He’s
Italian, so he’s gotta be Mafia, right? He’s Italian. He’s
a gangster. Did you ever stop to think that just maybe
he’s a decent guy who worked all of his life and saved
every penny he has?
Welsh: And he
kept it in his peanut cart?
Ray: Why not?
Fraser carries his around in his hat.
Fraser: Quite
true, sir. [shows
hat with money folded up inside]
Welsh: Are you
saying I’m prejudiced?
Fraser: Oh, no,
sir, I’m sure she doesn’t mean anything like that. It’s
just that your remark does have the air of cultural
stereotyping about it.
Ray:
Yeah.
Welsh: Let it
go, Detective. Remember, you’re only pretending to be an
I-talian.
Ray: Ciao,
sir.
[interrogation
room]
Ray: Okay, so
what did you see in the park?
Man:
Nothing.
Ray: You told
the officer you saw something. Now what was it? Look, I’m
not in the mood for 20 questions, so just tell me what you
saw.
Man: A
guy.
Ray: What kind
of guy?
Man: A lumpy
guy.
Ray: Was Mr.
Tucci with the lumpy guy?
Man:
Yeah.
Ray: Was he
arguing with this lumpy guy?
Man: No.
Ray: Did you
ever see Mr. Tucci in the park have any-any trouble, like
an argument with a customer?
Man: Kill
somebody over a pretzel?
Ray: When did
you see this lumpy guy?
Man: Right
before the shot.
Ray: Can you
describe him besides lumpy?
Man: Droopy
moustache, big gut, skinny legs. Like a fat skinny
guy.
Ray: Would you
recognize him?
Man: I
guess.
Ray: Okay, come
on. I want you to take a look at some pictures. A lot of
different pictures. We got tall guys, we got wide guys, we
got a mixture of the two...
[Welsh’s office;
Fraser, Huey, Welsh look at a map]
Fraser: You
could set your clock by him, sir. The route was
predictable and almost never varied. Over the course of
the week it became clear that his route would take him
along here, and then up to here, and then across to here
on Rainier Street and then straight back through the
park.
Welsh: You
memorized the pretzel guy’s route?
Fraser: Well,
I’m sorry, sir. It’s not something that I actively choose
to do. On the other hand, it’s not something I actively
choose to ignore, either.
Welsh: Fair
enough.
Fraser: I will
try and correct that, sir. In the meantime, I thought it
might be useful to your men to know where he had been on
the day of the murder.
Welsh: Oh, yes,
absolutely.
Francesca: Hey,
Fraze? There’s a Luanne Russell on the line. She’s calling
on behalf of Mrs. Tucci.
[break
room]
Ray: Frannie,
you’re a woman, apparently. What do women look for in a
man?
Francesca:
You’re asking me? Why? What sick thing are you up
to?
Ray: I’m just
asking, I got this friend. So this love at first sight, is
that legit? I mean, if you don’t make a good first
impression, are you dead in the water or what?
Francesca:
Well, you’re not...deformed or anything...
[Kowalski takes a
huge bite of a sandwich] ...really. I don’t know. It
really depends. I mean, did you show her your disgusting
tattoo, or how far you could spit or, you know, that
charming thing where you kick holes through the ceiling
tiles--
Ray
: [mouth
full] Come
on, Frannie, gimme a break here.
Francesca: Ooh,
aren’t we touchy! Who is this woman?
Ray: Nobody.
Just somebody I met at work.
Francesca: A
cop?
Ray: No.
Francesca: A
criminal?
Ray: No.
Francesca: I
don’t know, Ray. My best advice would be to be yourself,
but in your case...
[Kowalski takes
another huge
bite] I-I
don’t think that’s a great idea.
[corridor]
Ray: Fraser?
So, uh. Where’re we going?
Fraser: Well,
I’m, uh, I’m, uh...
[Fraser points down hall & Kowalski goes that way; Fraser goes the other way... after a moment, Kowalski runs after Fraser]
[Tucci house; living
room]
Fraser: A
good-looking boy.
Mrs. Tucci:
That’s my son, Frankie.
Fraser: Your
husband never mentioned him.
Mrs. Tucci: My
Franco and Frankie Junior, they fight. So, he ran away.
Twenty years ago.
Fraser: What
did they fight about?
Mrs. Tucci: Oh,
father and son, what does it matter? What makes the
difference? But. He’ll come back. I know he will.
[kitchen]
Ray: How long
have you worked for the Tuccis?
Luanne: A
little over two years.
Ray: Can you
describe Mr. Tucci?
Luanne: He was
unbelievable. He didn’t have a lazy bone in his body. He
worked every day from sunup to sundown, never complained.
Most people I know just complain about everything, you
know.
Ray: Yeah,
yeah, I know.
Luanne: They’re
both just amazing. She’s got this nerve thing. It’s only
getting worse. Some days she can’t hold a book. Her eyes
are going. She never complains. I just love her. You know
what she really likes?
Ray: No.
Luanne: When I
read to her. She loves these big romances. Today I started
Sword of Desire by Dawn O’Connor. Do you know
it?
Ray: No. I
don’t get a lot of time for reading, though, you know, I
like reading.
Luanne: Well
they’re great.
Ray:
[reading]
Gabrielle’s
chest heaved with passion...
[living
room]
Luanne on Tape:
“...The wind whipped her raven hair as she stood at the
edge of the parapet thinking only of her passion for
Paulo. Her lips...”
[Fraser stops the tape]
Mrs.
Tucci
: She reads it to me every afternoon. Sometimes she puts
it on a tape, so if I get awake in the middle of the night
and I can’t go back to sleep, I listen again.
Fraser: Mrs.
Tucci, you said on the telephone that you were
frightened.
Mrs. Tucci: I
just don’t understand what happened. See, Franco, he never
talk about himself, never talk about his business. Just
shut you right out. That’s Franco. But the last week or so
he was not himself. He was, uh, how you say, distracted.
He was so nervous. And now someone has...
[tearfully]
I feel so helpless.
[kitchen]
Ray: Can you
think of anyone who might have wanted to kill Mr.
Tucci?
Luanne: No,
nobody. It’s that park. The
crackheads are crazy. I told
him it wasn’t safe.
Mrs. Tucci:
Luanne, perhaps the gentlemen would like a glass of
Franco’s wine.
Fraser: Oh, no,
thank you.
Luanne:
Detective Vecchio?
Ray: Uh, no
thanks. I’m working.
Mrs. Tucci:
I’ll have a glass, for sleeping.
Ray: Well, it’s
late and I’m booking off, so, yeah, a glass of wine would
be great, thank you. Thank you.
[cell phone
rings]
Ray: Excuse me.
[answers]
Vecchio....Yeah?....Okay, I’ll talk to you
in the morning.
[hangs up; to Fraser]
ME’s report.
He had, uh, cancer. He would have been dead in two months
anyway.
[*crash* of a dish
breaking]
Mrs. Tucci:
Oh!
Luanne: I’m
sorry. He didn’t say anything. He must have known.
Mrs. Tucci:
What is it? What?
Ray: Your
husband was ill at the time of his murder. He had
cancer.
Mrs. Tucci:
Franco was dying? They killed a dying man?!
Ray: They?
They? Who do you mean by ‘they’?
Mrs. Tucci: No!
What if they try to kill me?
Fraser: No one
would have any reason to kill you, Mrs. Tucci.
Mrs. Tucci:
Well, no one had any reason to kill Franco either! Oh, I’m
afraid!
Fraser: Please,
don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen to you, I promise.
Ray, I think it would be a good idea for me to bivouac
here for the night.
Ray: You’re
gonna what?
Fraser: I’ll
explain later.
[GTO; Fraser gets
his duffel from the trunk]
Ray: Hey, I
know what’s going on here.
Fraser: Ray,
please.
Ray: You just
can’t stand it, can you? You just can’t stand that she’s
more interested in me than she is in you.
Fraser: You’re
embarrassing yourself.
Ray: Look, I’ll
be back here, 6:30 sharp!
[he gets in, slamming the door; GTO screeches away, then stalls]
[Tucci house;
backyard]
Fraser:
[to
Dief] It’s
a nice clear night for sleeping under the stars...such as
they are.
[Dief barks at
noise]
Fraser: I hear
it.
[he shines flashlight on fence... Kowalski climbs over awkwardly]
Fraser
: Ah, Ray. Glad you could join us.
Ray: Oh, yeah,
I bet you are.
[Kowalski sets up bedroll & pillow next to Fraser’s]
Ray
: Anything happen?
Fraser:
No.
Ray: You get
called in on any emergencies?
Fraser: No.
It’s been uh, it’s been very quiet.
Ray : Good.[finally lies down]
Fraser
: [holds flashlight
up to his
chin]
Loooooooou Scagnetti looked
across the stone table at the beautiful princess, and he
said to himself--
Ray:
Fraser?
Fraser:
[turns off
flashlight]
What?
Ray: You think
she had something to do with it, don’t you?
Fraser: I try
not to prejudge people, Ray.
Ray: You do.
Come on.
Fraser: Well,
all I will say is that I detected a certain...well
a...almost a musk-like animal wariness about her.
Ray: Musk?
You’re talking to me about musk? I detect a certain kind
of musk here myself.
[Dief
whines]
[they turn & look: they can see Luanne’s shadow
through the window as she gets
undressed.
Music: ‘Nice ‘n’ Easy’ by
Ranee
Lee.]
Fraser: Oh
dear.
Ray: Oh
yeah.
[Fraser clears
throat & looks away]
Fraser : Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray.
[Kowalski puts his head down on the pillow; looks up again]
Fraser : *Ray*?
[Kowalski reluctantly puts his head down and pulls hood over his head]
[Dief whines]
[morning]
Fraser: Ray,
Ray, Ray.
[Fraser thumps Kowalski on the head with his boot...
Kowalski is instantly
awake]
Ray:
Time?
Fraser: 6:30.
Coffee?
Ray: Anything
happen?
Fraser: No.
[hands Kowalski a
mug of steaming liquid]
Ray: You
sleep?
Fraser: Very
little. You?
Ray: No. What
about him?
[Dief still sits by Luanne’s
window]
Fraser: I don’t
think he’s moved.
Ray: He saw it
all?
[Fraser nods]
Ray
: Dogs, huh? They have all the fun.
Fraser: It
would seem so. Well, Ray, we uh, we should get
going.
Ray: Look,
Fraser, I’m wallowing. Give me a little time for a
wallow.
Fraser: Right
you are. [pause]
Do you take
sugar when you wallow?
Ray: Uh,
one.
[Fraser drops a sugar cube into Kowalski’s cup]
[car; Dewey is
driving]
Dewey: Do you
believe this guy peddled this entire route every
day?
Huey: Pull
over, will you?
Dewey:
Hmm?
Huey: Pull
over. Pull over!
[Dewey does]
I don’t know.
I feel nauseous or something if I’m not driving.
Dewey: Look, I
feel nauseous if you *are* driving.
Huey: But
you’re always--
Dewey: Listen,
hey, let’s end this, right, okay? I’m sick of this
argument. Is it because you got to have a steering wheel
in your hands? Is that it?
Huey:
Yes.
Dewey: Okay,
get out of the car. Right now. Get out.
[Huey aims for the driver’s side]
Dewey
: Hey, hey, hey, hey, this is for your stomach.
[hands Huey a
steering wheel]
Huey: I suppose
you think this is funny, right? You want to know
something? It’s not funny. It’s cruel. I mean, all I said
was--
Dewey:
Shhh.
Huey:
What?
Dewey: Look at
this.
[down the alley, men are unloading a
car]
Huey: Well,
well, well. The Palermo Social Club.
[27th
precinct]
Ray: Let me see
if I got this right, Fraser. Luanne is a beautiful woman,
therefore she must be bad. And since she’s a really
beautiful woman, that means she’s got to be really bad. Is
that how it goes inside your brain?
Fraser: Are you
sure it’s my brain we’re talking about?
Francesca:
Randy said this was as close as he could come. Mind you,
your eyewitness hasn’t slept in about six months, so he
wasn’t at his sharpest.
Fraser:
Hmmm.
Ray:
What?
Fraser:
Nothing.
Ray: You think
this is a woman in disguise.
Fraser: Well,
there is something sort of off-kilter about it.
Ray: You think
she’s involved, don’t you?
Fraser:
Ray.
Ray: Look,
you’re gonna tell me this is a false moustache.
Fraser: All
right. The smudge she had on her upper lip when we went to
the Tucci household could, and I say ‘could,’ have been
the residue of spirit gum used to hold the mustache
on.
Ray: Right. And
the pillow that fell off the chair--
Fraser: Might
account for the description of the fat man with skinny
legs. I say ‘might.’
Ray
: And I suppose that cassette tape you found in the living
room of her reading Sword of Desire, she used that
to fool Mrs. Tucci into thinking that she was sitting in a
comfy chair reading to her from across the room--
Fraser: Thereby
providing her with an alibi so she could slip out to the
park and shoot Mr. Tucci. But as I say, Ray, this is just
the purest of speculation.
Ray: Right. So
why don’t we just bring her in here and grill the snot out
of her?
Fraser: Without
cause, that would violate her civil rights.
[Fraser knocks at Welsh’s office door, Kowalski barges
right
in]
Welsh: Jack and
Dewey called in. Old Man Tucci
used to bring his pretzels by the Palermo Social Club
every day. It’s a real wise guy hangout. I mean, you had
to have major bones before you can even get a decaf there.
Maybe he heard something.
Ray: So you’re
saying this is mob-related.
Francesca:
[knocks, then
enters]
Hello? Random. Anyone ever heard of random killings?
Welsh: He owned
a home in Lincoln Wood. Had a couple of semis in Oak Park.
No mortgage. He was worth 1.7 million dollars.
Ray: Related to
the mob.
Fraser: I would
resist the temptation of jumping to conclusions,
gentlemen. And lady. By way of example, Joe
Obodiac was a humble janitor
with a women Christian temperance center in Eagle River,
and honest as the day is long. But by the time he died, he
owned a split-level home, two power boats, and several
expensive pairs of shoes.
Welsh: Miss
Vecchio, the phone records. I want to know what calls were
made to and from the Tucci house and who made them.
Francesca:
Probably to Al Capone. Did you ever stop to think this
might be personal? I mean, we know this guy was worth 1.7
million dollars. So who inherits it? Did you ever think of
that?
[Tucci house; living
room]
Fraser: Mrs.
Tucci, it would appear that your husband has left
everything to Franco Junior.
Mrs. Tucci: Ah,
Frankie. Frankie will take care of me.
[Luanne exits]
Mrs.
Tucci
: My Frankie.
[Kowalski follows
Luanne]
[deck]
Ray: So what
now? Did you know Mr. Tucci was worth a million and a half
bucks?
Luanne: Yeah.
No, I knew he had some money.
Ray: Do you
know where he got it?
Luanne: Well,
he worked 12 hours a day for fifty years, I guess he just
saved it.
Ray: And it all
goes to a guy nobody’s seen for twenty years? A guy who
could be dead for all anybody knows.
Luanne: The
courts will direct at least half of it to us, to Mrs.
Tucci for upkeep of the house and everything. She’ll get
the rest after he’s declared legally dead. I mean, that’s
how it’s worked, you know, for other families I’ve worked
for.
Ray:
Right.
Luanne: Ray,
things are such a mess.
Ray: Nah,
they’re not a mess.
Luanne: Yeah,
they are.
[she falls into
him]
Ray : You all right? What?
[they
kiss]
Fraser:
[clears throat]
Ray, I’m
sorry.
[27th
precinct]
Ray: You
talking to me or chewing on a brick? Cause either way
you’re gonna lose your teeth!
[mutters]
Freak.
[to
Luanne]
Hi.
Luanne: Hi.
Listen, I’m sorry about, um... I didn’t mean to make you
feel--
Ray: No, no,
no, no. That was me. I was way over the line. Look, I was
gonna call you.
Luanne: You
don’t have to say that.
Ray: Okay,
okay. So.
Luanne: Um, did
you... Did the police find any money on Mr. Tucci?
Ray:
Yeah.
Luanne: Four
thousand dollars?
Ray:
Yeah.
Luanne: It’s
mine.
[interrogation
room]
Ray: So, we can
talk here.
Luanne: I have
to return that to the library.
[a
book]
What’s that?
[sketch]
Ray: Oh, it’s
our suspect. You ever seen anybody around the house who
looked like that or...
Luanne: No.
It’s odd-looking.
Ray: So, um.
Money.
Luanne: My pay.
A month’s pay.
Ray: The Tuccis
paid you four thousand bucks a month cash?
Luanne: Mm-hmm.
The last Friday of every month. A thousand dollars a week.
I know it’s illegal. I didn’t pay any taxes or anything.
But I don’t have any education or training, so I couldn’t
say no.
Ray: You didn’t
think to ask him where he got it?
Luanne: No.
It’s none of my business. The thing is, with the will
being the way it is, I, um... We really need that money
now. Can I get it?
Ray: I don’t
know. I’d have to ask my, uh, lieutenant.
Luanne: I
understand. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you any
trouble.
Ray: That’s
okay. No trouble.
[they go to kiss,
but Dief growls & barks from other side of
glass. Music:
‘Nice ‘n’ Easy’ by Ranee
Lee.]
Luanne: Well,
I’ll see you at the wake this afternoon?
Ray: Yeah. I’ll
be there. Sure.
Luanne:
Great.
[she exits & Kowalski follows her to the corridor;
Frannie enters, passing Luanne; Kowalski is still looking
after
her]
Francesca: I
think what you need is a cold shower.
Ray: I think
what you need is a size 10 kick in the... Dief, what are
you looking at?
[Luanne has left her book; Kowalski opens it]
[bullpen; Kowalski’s
desk]
Ray: It’s the
same plot.
Fraser: I’m
sorry?
Ray: Sword
of Desire. Look. Okay, in the book, Gabriella is a
lady-in-waiting to the aging duchess, then the duke dies,
follow?
Fraser: I think
so.
Ray: Good. Cast
of characters, okay? Luanne, Gabriella. Duke, Mr. Tucci.
Duchess, Mrs. Tucci. Gabriella has the duke killed so she
can get hold of the castle and all the grapes.
Fraser:
Grapes?
Ray: It’s
Italy. It’s a wine castle.
Fraser : Ah.
Ray
: Anyway, Gandolfo shows up and the villagers go bananas,
right?
Fraser: And
Gandolfo is?
Ray: We don’t
have a Gandolfo yet.
Fraser: So
what’s the point, Ray?
Ray: The point
is, she’s involved, right? She’s after the old man’s
money, just like in the book.
Fraser: Are you
suggesting that she left the book sitting around here in
some sort of subconscious desire to be caught?
Ray: Well, it
sounds dumb, but you got a better idea?
Fraser: Maybe
she just forgot it.
Ray:
[snorts]
What the hell are you doing with my
mail, anyway?
Fraser: I’m
sorry. I just noticed that your box hadn’t been emptied in
about a month. To your credit it seems to have been
stuffed largely with fast food menus, so I don’t think any
vital police work is suffering. There is also a fax that
came in from the National Crime Database. They ran a check
on Luanne Russell. She has a record.
Ray: For what?
[takes paper &
reads]
Phone fraud, mail fraud? She’s a con artist?
Fraser: She has
been. She may not be now.
Ray: She’s a
con? She likes me? What does that mean?
[surveillance car;
Huey takes pictures of arriving mourners]
Huey:
Luciano
Siracusa...
Milano
Valecchia... Mrs. Tucci... And
there is Luanne Russell...
Dewey
: And that’s Gino Tortelli.
Ray: The guy
that owns the Palermo Social Club, runs the east side for
the Iguana family. Hoo, hah...
Hey, who’s that guy with Mrs. Tucci?
Dewey: I don’t
know.
Fraser: Perhaps
we should find out.
[Tucci house; Fraser
& Kowalski enter]
Mrs.
Tucci:
Grazie,
signorina
... Oh, Constable Fraser! Constable, come see my Frankie.
My Frankie’s come home!
Ray:
[to
Fraser]
Gandolfo.
Priest: It’s
unbelievable, my boy. You haven’t changed a bit.
Frankie: I wish
that were true, Father.
Mrs. Tucci:
Frankie, Frankie, this is my friend, Constable
Fraser.
Frankie: Oh,
I’ve heard a lot about you.
Fraser: And I
you, sir.
Ray:
[mouth
full]
Excuse me, I’m, uh--
Fraser:
Detective Vecchio.
Frankie: Lots
of police.
[dining room]
Ray
: Luanne?
Luanne: Not
now, Ray.
[living room]
Frankie
: I’m so ashamed, Mama. I should have come home a long
time ago. I should have been here. If only I could see
Papa again. Ask his forgiveness. But I am never going to
leave you again.
Mrs. Tucci:
Oh...
Tortelli:
Frankie, it’s Gino Tortelli. I was a great friend of your
father’s. If there is anything you need, anything.
Frankie: Thank
you. Thank you.
Tortelli:
Welcome home, Frankie. Welcome home.
[27th
precinct; Frannie’s desk]
Ray: Okay,
maybe it’s just my suspicious nature, but a guy disappears
for 20 years and then he shows up a couple of days after
his father’s murder just in time to inherit a million
bucks? I don’t know.
[bangs on computer
keyboard]
Francesca: Hey,
hands off the merchandise!
Ray: I hate
this computer.
Francesca:
Well, here’s why we didn’t find Franco Junior when we ran
his father. 1979. Couple of chops as a juvenile.
Ray: Chops? Do
you mean beefs?
Francesca:
Yeah. Beefs. Loins, chops,
ribeye, it really doesn’t
matter. The point is they sealed the records and they
think he also goes by the name of Sammy Franks.
Dewey:
[passing by]
*Went* by the
name Sammy Franks.
[goes to
exit]
Ray: Film at 11
or what?
Dewey: All
right. A few years back I was at the 1-9, right? A couple
of marshals from Tucson, wearing those big cowboy hats and
everything, fly in to pick up one of our collars, Nervous
Nellie Martin. He was up on a murder one chop.
Francesca:
[on
phone]
Hang on. [to
Kowalski]
Did you hear that? Chops. Chops are okay. Thank you.
[into
phone]
Sir?
Huey: Chops are
good. A little applesauce on the side--
Dewey: Would
you let me finish the story here?
Huey: Sorry. Go
ahead.
Dewey: All
right. So the victim is Sammy Franks, an up-and-coming mob
guy, right? Attracting a lot of heat at the time. But
Nellie beats the rap because they can’t find enough pieces
of Franks’ body to identify. No body, no murder. No
murder, no prison volleyball.
Ray: So this
Sammy Franks may or may not be Franco Tucci who may or may
not be dead, and this guy at the Tucci house may or may
not be him. Is that about it?
Fraser: I think
you’ve put it rather well, Ray.
Francesca: Oh,
I finished checking those phone numbers, and there’s
nothing here except a bunch of calls made to a detective
agency.
Ray: From the
Tucci house?
Francesca: Of
course.
Ray: Why would
they be calling a private investigator?
Francesca: I
don’t know.
Ray: I’m gonna
check this out.
Francesca: It’s
Apex Investigations on Van Buren.
Ray: Van Buren?
Van Buren.
[Apex
Investigations]
Ray: So, do you
know when he’ll be back?
Receptionist:
He didn’t say.
Ray: Look, he’s
not in any trouble. I just want to ask him a couple of
questions about this case I’m working on.
Receptionist:
Mr. Fahey is never in trouble with the law. He’s very
law-abiding. He doesn’t even get parking tickets.
Ray: No
tickets? Lucky guy. That’s a lucky guy. Do you get
tickets?
Receptionist:
Sometimes.
Ray: I get ‘em
all the time. I hate ‘em. But I’m a cop so, uh. Those
tickets you get? They could kinda, you know...
[she gives him a
look]
That’s a nice dress. I like that. That’s very
attractive.
Receptionist:
You think?
Ray: Oh, yeah.
[smiles]
Receptionist:
You could leave your name and number. I mean, he checks
his messages.
Ray: Right.
Well, he would have to cause he’s out in the field looking
for the missing persons, right?
Receptionist:
Well, not really. Actually, his specialty is not finding
them.
Ray: Excuse
me?
Receptionist:
Like if you want to declare someone legally dead? You’ve
got to make an effort to find them. Something you can show
a court.
Ray:
Right.
[outside Tucci
house]
Frankie: It’s
time you got with the program. I’m in charge here and what
I say goes.
Luanne: You
promised me--
Frankie: Hey!
All good things must end. You’ve been on the gravy train
for, what, three years now?
[exits]
Fraser: Are you
all right?
Luanne:
Constable. You startled me. Yeah, I’m all right. But
something’s wrong. Franco’s acting crazy. He’s talking
about putting Mrs. Tucci in a home.
Fraser: Did he
say where he was going?
Luanne: To get
a drink.
Fraser: Excuse
me. Diefenbaker, come.
[exits]
[Dief groans, not
budging; Fraser returns]
Fraser: I said,
come.
[Dief grumbles, but
stays put]
Fraser: What do
you think you are doing? You’re part of a team, and on a
team there is only room for one alpha dog. Like it or lump
it, that is me. Alpha. Now. Come.
[Dief barks; Luanne
holds back laughter]
Fraser:
Diefenbaker, stay.
[Dief happily leaps up on Luanne]
Fraser : I thought you’d like that.
[street]
[Frankie surveying the neighborhood, shaking hands]
Vendor
: Got a little something for you, here.
[hands Frankie an
apple] No,
no, no, keep your money, keep your money.
Nellie:
Frankie! [pulls
gun]
[Fraser tackles Nellie into fruit stand; Frankie takes off
one way, Nellie in the other... Fraser pursues Nellie into
an alley; Nellie holds a gun on
him]
Fraser: You
don’t want to do this.
Nellie: Sorry,
pal.
Fraser: Think
about it, Nellie. Right now I’m the only friend you
have.
Nellie: Do I
know you?
Fraser:
No.
Nellie: Who the
hell are you?
Fraser: My name
is Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
I... Well, it’s not really important. What is important,
is that two years ago you were paid money to kill Sammy
Franks. And certain people are going to be very unhappy to
discover you’ve missed a second time and that their money,
which I’m virtually certain is all gone, is in fact, all
gone.
Nellie: Well,
you got a good point.
Fraser: Thank
you. Why don’t you give me the gun? I promise you the full
protection of the Chicago Police Department.
[Nellie hands over the weapon]
[27th
precinct, interrogation room; Welsh is watching through
2-way mirror]
Nellie: I want
to make a deal.
Dewey: Deal?
Here’s your deal. You tell us everything we want to know,
okay? If we want to know the lyrics to
Oklahoma, you’d
better know them. ‘Cause if you don’t, we’re gonna kick
you out of here and broadcast your movements on the
all-news traffic reports. You dig?
Nellie: Okay,
okay. Look, all right. Okay. Fine.
Huey: That’s
good. Good, Nellie.
[bullpen]
Francesca:
[on
phone]
Yeah. [to
Fraser]
It’s Ray.
Fraser: Ray,
where are you?
Ray: I checked
the photo on his PI license application. Franco Junior’s
real name is Wayne Fahey. He’s the PI she hired to find
the long-lost son. It’s a scam.
Fraser: I don’t
think Ms. Russell--
Ray: Look, I’m
going over there right now to pick her up.
Fraser: Ray,
wait--
Ray: I can pick
‘em, can’t I?
[interrogation
room]
Nellie:
Anyway, so I’m in Phoenix and this guy comes up to me and
says, I’m surprised you’re showing your face. And I says,
why? He says, a buddy of his just got back from Chicago,
and that Frankie Tucci’s back
in town.
[observation room; Fraser enters & Welsh motions quiet]
Nellie
: I says, no way. I killed the guy, you know. And he says,
no, no, you know, he’s walking around. And I think, jeez,
you know, this is an affront to my professional dignity. I
mean, someone pays me good money to kill a guy, you know,
bing-bing, you know, I kill him, you know? I’m a
professional. Hey, if that’s a crime, I’m guilty. Right?
Plus the DeLuca
family’ll be trying to kill
me, right? So I hop the first plane east and I start
asking around, and I find he’s walking around and he’s
squeezing melons like the Godfather.
Huey: You took
a contract on Frank Tucci Junior two years ago in
Phoenix.
Nellie: Only he
wasn’t going by the name of Tucci then. He changed it two
years ago after he left home. I got him on his boat. Blew
it right out of the water. All they found of him was
pieces. I guess it was pieces of somebody
else.
[observation
room]
Huey:
[voice]
You’re proud of it.
Nellie:
[voice]
Sure I’m proud of it. It’s my job.
Welsh
: So what do you got, Constable?
Fraser:
Interesting that you should ask, sir.
[interrogation
room]
Nellie: You do
your job, and I do my job. You wouldn’t have a job if it
wasn’t for guys like me.
[enter Welsh &
Fraser]
Welsh: Well,
Mr. Nellie, I got a couple of news bulletins for you. The
good news is you were right the first time. You did kill
Frank Tucci in Phoenix. The bad news is, you just ratted
out the DeLuca family. So if
you’re gonna help yourself, I would start pretty
quick.
Nellie: Yeah,
yeah. Okay.
[Tucci house; Frankie/Fahey retrieves gun from his bag stashed in the basement]
[car]
Dewey: Fraser,
you wanna sit back? You’re blocking the mirror.
Fraser:
[on cell
phone]
What, he’s there with you now?
Luanne: Yes,
he’s here and he’s acting crazy. He’s running around like
a madman. What’s going on?
Fraser: Get out
of the house. [to
Dewey]
Go.
[Dewey turns on light & siren, Huey grabs his ‘wheel’ too]
[Tucci
house]
Fahey:
[pointing
gun] Put
it down.
Luanne:
[hangs up the
phone]
You’re not Franco.
Fahey: You’re
damn right I’m not. But someone who thinks I am just tried
to kill me.
Luanne:
Why?
Fahey: I don’t
know. And I don’t care. But you can have Franco Tucci, the
money, the old lady, the whole nine yards. I’m getting out
of here.
Ray: I don’t
think so. Drop the gun!
Fahey: Man, am
I glad to see you. Someone just tried to kill me--
Ray: Look, I
heard you. Now drop the gun! You put the gun on the
ground! Slowly! Kick it over here! Kick it!
[Dief enters the house through a basement window & grabs wig from Fahey’s open bag]
Ray
: [picks up Fahey’s
gun] What
I want to know is which one of you pulled the
trigger?
Luanne:
What?
Fahey: She did.
The whole thing was her idea, I swear.
Ray: Okay, both
of you, on the floor.
Luanne:
Ray--
Ray: On the
floor! Both of you! Hands behind your head, interlock your
fingers. Get down!
[Dief shows up & distracts Kowalski; Fahey knocks Kowalski over & runs out... Fahey dodges the just-arriving car & keeps running; Fraser gives chase on foot, and Fahey tries to shoot him; Dewey turns the car around & speeds by the foot pursuit... the car stops sideways on the street, blocking Fahey’s escape]
Huey : Put. The Gun. Down. Now!
[driveway; Dewey
puts Fahey in the back of a patrol car, then joins the
guys]
Fraser: Mr.
Tucci feared that when he died, there would be no one to
provide for his beloved wife, so he hired this man Fahey
to help him find his long-lost son. When he showed Fahey
the photograph of his son, Fahey’s resemblance to Franco
Junior was obvious. And that was the genesis of his
scheme. He would murder Mr. Tucci, then he would
impersonate the son and lay claim to the money and the
property that Mr. Tucci had told him awaited Franco
Junior.
Dewey: He
didn’t know the old man was ill and probably would die in
a few months.
Huey: And he
didn’t know the real Franco was a man with a price on his
head.
Fraser: The
axiom would seem to hold that ‘Proper Preparation Prevents
Poor Performance.’
Ray: So she had
nothing to do with it.
[front
door]
Ray: I don’t
know what to
say. I, um,
made a mistake. I’m, uh, sorry.
Luanne: Yeah,
you did.
Ray: Look, I’ll
talk to my lieutenant and I’ll get back your four
thousand
bucks.
Luanne: You
know, that’s good, Ray. Because as we walk along life’s
highway, it’s nice to know in a crunch I can just really
count on you.
Ray: Look, wait
a minute, I--
[she shuts the door in his face]
[campsite]
Ray: Why
couldn’t I trust her? I mean, if I trusted her, I would be
sitting with her tonight instead of...sitting out here in
the wilderness.
Fraser: We
aren’t actually in the wilderness, Ray. We’re in a park in
the middle of downtown Chicago.
Ray: It’s not
you, you know. Those things I accused you of? It’s me. I
mean, I looked at her. She’s drop-dead beautiful, she
looked at me, she’s actually interested in me, and right
away I – click – I start thinking, okay, what is wrong
with her? What kind of guy is that? What does that say
about a guy?
[pause]
Fraser
: Loooooooou Scagnetti looked
at the princess who sat across the stone table in the
stone cabin high atop Sulfur Mountain, and the princess
smiled at him. And for a brief second,
Loooooooou Scagnetti could
hear his own inner bell ring as though it were rung by a
thousand angels. And he took his hand and he placed it
over his heart, and Loooooooou
Scagnetti vowed that never again would he kill and eat
another princess as long as he lived. Unless, of course,
she were covered in choke cherries and brown lichen and a
sprinkling of dust--
Ray:
Fraser?
Fraser:
What?
Ray: That is
one dark story.
Fraser: Yes, it
is. Oh. The spaghetti’s ready.
[presents a pile of
pasta sitting upon a grill]
Ray:
Mmmm. Where’s Dief?
[Luanne’s bedroom.
Music: ‘Jade Eyes’ by Moe
Koffman Quintet.]
Luanne:
[reading
silently]
Gabriella’s chest heaved at the sight of him. His boldness
made her feel like a true princess. As he came near her,
she felt the trembling that began
[speaks]
deep inside
her most secret place.
[Dief sits on the patio just
outside]
End