Bone Daddy (1998) - full transcript

(suspenseful music playing)

(suspenseful music continues)

(suspenseful music continues)

And if there's
anything you need to--

How do I get long distance
if I use my card?

Seven, one, area code
and number.

Do you want any lights?

(phone keys clicking)

You can do
your express check-out
with the TV,

-and if you want anything
from the mini-bar--
-Jerry.

Rocky Carleson.



Yeah, I made it on one piece,
but it was like flying on rocks.

Look,

I've never seen
this kind of heat

in all the years
I've been Bill Palmer's agent.

I'm telling you,
this is a marked change.

So listen...

I'm two meetings away
from seeing Bill,

I want to find out
if we are doing
any paperback business,

-so I can tell him...
-(suspenseful music plays)

(sirens blaring in distance)

(laughs) Yeah.

It could be meaningful.

What do I mean meaningful?
What do you think I mean?

I'm getting
picture offers already.



And we're only taking
a million five from your end

to start the conversation.

And then you own a property
that ties

into a fucking tailor-made
Michael Douglas vehicle.

It's just that
a fact's a fact, Jerry.

Other people know
they want the package,

I'm just thinking
of our prior relationship.

Exactly.

You work your number.
I'll call you in, uh...

three hours.

Good, good.

And trust me on this one.

I'm not bluffing.

(thud)

[anchorwoman] New today,
Bone Daddy,

latest page-turner
from Chicago's

master of the macabre,
William Palmer.

A man who, as residents
of the windy city will remember,

knows exactly
what he's talking about

when it comes to matters
of the no longer beating heart.

This is because his last day job

was as Chief Medical Examiner
of Chicago.

Chicagoans will recall
the real Bone Daddy
serial murder case

of seven years ago,

in which the perpetrator
was never caught.

In Palmer's new book,

he's written
a fictionalized account

in which the killer is caught.

While in Chicago,
Palmer won headlines galore

and notoriety
among criminologists

for cracking
any number of famous

and complex murder cases.

So like his others,

this latest book will, no doubt,

crackle
with nail-biting intensity.

For Chicago Today,
I'm Marilyn Chalmers.

(seagulls squawking)

(traffic buzzing)

(indistinct chatter)

(soft music playing)

-I even spelled it right.
-Thank you.

It's to Patti.

Excuse me, excuse me, folks,
excuse me.

Excuse me, thank you.

Thank you very much,
ladies and gentlemen,

that's all the time Dr. Palmer
has for today.

Sorry to disappoint,
but if I don't get him
to his next appointment on time,

I'll lose my job.

You have 40 minutes.

I can't be late
for Peter's party.

Where's Rocky?

Quit worrying. Hi. Hi.

I need to talk to him.

Sorry.

-Everything is under control.
-You sure?

I'm sure. That's how P.R. people
keep their job.

We make sure
before you even think of it.

I thought it was by doing P.R.

That is P.R.

[man] I'll try Rocky again.

[Bill] Can I tell you a secret?

[man] You don't have to.
I already know.

Hi, Rocky Carleson, please,
room 878.

You're nervous having your kid
one jump away from your old job.

You know what, you could
really piss a person off.

[man] It's busy again.

We'll pick him up on the way.

(horns honking)

[Bill] Rocky? (clears throat)
Are you in there?

Nobody in here but me.

Wasn't nobody here
when I came either.

I'm sorry, Donna, is it?
Can we look inside?

-Thanks a lot.
-(phone beeping)

[Bill] No wonder it was busy.

(phone clicks)

Phone is off the damn hook.

Rocky?

[man] Nice room.

Yeah, there's his bag.

I'm really not supposed
to let you in here

if it's not your room.

It's so unlike him.

-(bin clatters)
-[Donna] Don't know
how that happened.

Never happened before.

But, you know,
room service chicken's
awful popular.

Thank you, Donna.

(suspenseful music playing)

Middle finger.

Left hand.

(siren wailing)

[man 1] What if the Bone Daddy
could be back?

To tell you the truth,

I started to worry
when I heard the goddamn title.

What's that supposed to mean?

You took a huge risk
and you know it.

Could it be a P.R. stunt?

That's completely insulting.

[man 2] How about a fan
paying homage?

My agent may be in danger,

you've got to let me in on this.

-You've been out of it too long.
-Nonsense.

You're also still
pretty fucking arrogant.

Which is one
of his better traits.

[Bill] We were both
on this case before.

I know this man.

And so do you.

All right.

I'll let you work with Hewlett.

-Chief.
-She's the cop.

You're the consultant.

Consultant.

Do you understand?

Now, don't you have
a party to get to?

They probably told you
what a grouch I was?

Didn't really do you justice.

Spoken like a badge.

How does a badge sound?

Depends.

Some of your colleagues
used to have problems with me.

They called you
Dr. Frankenstein.

That is correct.

Well, at least he was smart.

[Bill] They tell you
to flatter me?

[Sharon] Yeah,
but I didn't pay attention.

I know this is all a bit sudden,

and it's probably not the job
you've been dreaming of.

But since you're so brilliant,
I'm supposed to take you
seriously, right?

That would be good.

I have an ex-husband
with that attitude.

[Bill] Marriage is hard.

Especially for cops.

Yeah, it was hard all around.

Any children?

-No.
-You didn't want them?

Excuse me.

Just trying to find out
who I am working with.

Look, it may come
as a surprise to you,

but I've done this before.

I don't like
your defensive attitude.

It doesn't mean
that you're offended,

it means you are insecure.

You can't afford that
on this case.

You hesitate, you lose.

-(door opens)
-(gravel crunching)

(orchestral music playing)

(indistinct chatter)

(music stops)

Ladies, gentlemen,
I'd like to...

uh, propose a toast to the man

that we are here
to congratulate tonight,

-Peter Palmer.
-[guests] Hear, hear!

(all applaud)

Now, Peter is the kind of man

who will elevate
the medical examiner's office

in this city to better things.

And just like his father,

my very good friend,
Bill Palmer,

just like Bill,

Peter will make
a great contribution

and I wouldn't be surprised
one day to hand my job
over to him.

-(guests laugh)
-Watch it.

'Cause I could do that
with complete trust

and confidence.

Ladies and gentlemen,
Peter Palmer.

[all] To Peter!

-(guests applauding)
-Thank you very much.

(dog barking in distance)

[butler] Mr. Palmer Sr.
just arrived.

Bill!

You had us watching
the clock there, buddy.

There was a bit of a delay.
I'm sure you've heard.

(softly) Yeah, I know,
I got the call.
Are you all right?

I'm fine.

Oh, excuse me, this is...

Detective Sharon Hewlett.

Marshall Stone.

Here I thought
she was just another

naive, misguided girl.

Listen, I've got guests, uh...

Peter's in there.

(indistinct chatter)

-[Bill] Peter.
-Hi.

Congratulations.

I'm sorry I'm late.

It's okay, he has been
quite busy with all of this.

When you get the job,
you get the job.

That's probably why
they decided to have the party

at the boss's house, right?

You know,
you've made your appearance.

You don't have to hang around
if you're not in the mood.

Photographer needs you
by the cake, champ.

Sorry.

When you get the job,
you get the cake.

The kids said to say hi.

Thank you.

(sighs)

You're obviously
very proud of him.

Yes.

I always knew he'd do well.

Did you have
anything to do with it?

Get a close-up of the cake.

Get a really nice one
of the cake.

-Dr. Palmer.
-Trent!

How have you been?

You're looking
like a million bucks.

Looks deceive. Still making
Y cuts for chump-change.

How's my kid doing?

He inherited the talent.

Keep an eye on him?

Count on it.

[woman] Bill.

I came to share
in the glory too.

That must be because
you're his mother.

Must be.

Who's the brunette?

Come on.

-How are you?
-Excellent.

Don't tell me.

I won't.

It's a shame
you missed the toast.

-We waited as long as we could.
-Is this from you, Trent?

You know what a ham
Marshall Stone is.

[Peter] Oh, they're great.

(sighs)

Look at him.

I have just realized,
he's not a kid anymore.

I had always hoped

his life wouldn't be
quite so involved with death.

He's not involved with death.

He serves life,

because he studies
the end of it.

Ah...

-You're as good as ever.
-Don't.

Never better.

Never covers a lot of ground.

Ex-wife?

Yes.

Twelve years.

Look, um, I didn't mean
to insult you before,

when I made that comment
about helping Peter get his job.

All right.

He didn't want my help. I tried.

[Peter] Jesus Christ!

[woman] Oh, my God...

(gasps) Oh! Oh!

[Stone] No one touch it.

(dramatic music playing)

I think this is for you.

Damn it!

(eerie music playing)

[Trent] Dr. Palmer?

You were right.

They are all
from the same victim.

Sorry.

Run hair and fiber inside
and outside the boxes,

wrapping paper, bows,
the whole thing.

You'll find fingerprints

from the people
who handled the boxes,

nothing else.

Still has to be done, Dad.

If you have a coherent profile,
Doctor,

-please don't sit on it.
-I don't.

Then why don't you just let her
do her job?

Don't apologize for me.

I think you should apologize
for yourself.

Do you think I've lost
my people skills?

You never had people skills.

You had rank.

All right.

I think,
you might wanna see this, Bill.

I'll take that.

[Sharon] What is it?

None of the bones
came from the cadaver.

Which means?

It means...

this is being done...

to him, alive.

(creaking)

(footsteps approaching)

(Rocky breathing erratically)

(panting)

(door clicks)

(cracks)

(wincing)

(thuds)

(screaming) No!

(grunting)

(metal clanks in distance)

(suspenseful music playing)

(train horn blares)

Bill! Bill.

This morning's paper,
have you seen it?

-It's everywhere,
we can't ignore it.
-[Bill] Oh, boy.

You better go to work.
I don't know how to handle this.

Don't worry,
I'll make it sell books.

Holy moley, this way.

(reporters yelling indistinctly)

Do you think it showed good
judgment to put a story

and an idea like that out there?

[reporter] What do you think?

Don't say anything.

I've got an idea.

You know what you ought to do?
Read your own newspaper.

Then ask your editor
the same question.

Okay, sorry, we gotta run.

(reporters yelling indistinctly)

I've got a statement,
folks, I've got a statement.

Come on back this way,
come on back this way.

Hey, Frank, how are you,
it's good to see you.

Come on back this way,
folks, I've got a statement.

All right? You ready? Rolling?
All right.

First of all,
there is no conclusive evidence

to indicate that this
is the original Bone Daddy.

Or even anyone responding
to the book.

-(cameras clicking)
-All it does is verify

Bill Palmer's unmatched mastery
of profiling,

and his unerring sense
of human behavioral patterns.

-Okay? Thanks very much.
-(reporters groan)

(indistinct chatter continues)

(suspenseful music playing)

(suspenseful music continues)

He's raising the stakes.

What he did before
was pretty intense.

The earlier victims
had nothing in common.

This is different,
it's a response.

And he isn't finished.

I'm gonna have to bring in
these suspects again.

Of course, after seven years,
half of them

will have moved out of town.

I wanted to ask you about
this guys, Dr. Morton Franz.

[Bill] Assistant Chief
Medical Examiner at the time.

You had your own people
under suspicion?

[Bill] The killer
was a sophisticated man.

We suspected everybody
and his brother.

The evidence just wasn't there.

But the killer
in the book was an M.E.

Yes...

Like Morton Franz.

Like fiction.

Like you.

No.

Nothing like me.

Franz was Bill's main rival
for the chief M.E. job.

Was there any other reason
he was a suspect?

Well, being a rival,
that wasn't a reason,

but certainly, it didn't help.

Now...

this is the pelvis

of a young girl, probably...

Lisa Hollingsworth.

Never found.

To tell the truth,

Franz was a lousy M.E.,

and his only hope
was administration.

So when he lost out, he...

He hated Bill's guts.

This is a rib of a man
in his 70s. Probably...

Stanley Chase.

And then of course, there was...
the affair.

Affair? What affair?

Franz's wife.

Palmer?

Tibias.

We were lousy with tibias.

We figured he liked them.

[Sharon] Were any whole victims
ever found?

Never. Every bone we got,
he sent to us.

All in the same condition
as these recent ones.

With the exception
of the messages

cut out of Bill's novel.

So, was Franz still working here
at the time he was the suspect?

One week after

Bill took the Chief M.E. job,

he had to fire Franz.

Why?

Professional differences.

And Bone Daddy?

The first bone
was two weeks later.

(intense music playing)

(phone ringing)

-Hello?
-[Cobb] Hewlett?

How come you're opening
the Franz file? Something new?

Not really,
but he is a viable suspect.

Okay, we all read the book.

Palmer based the character
on Morton Franz,

and if I were him,
I'd sue his ass,

but the book is not the case.

It's not just the book,

it's the affair.

It could be payback.
It's a hell of a motive.

There wasn't anything then,
there isn't now.

[Sharon] That's not
what Stone thinks.

When Palmer or Stone become
Chief of Police,

I'll shut up
and defer to their opinion.

But till then,
count less on life imitating art

and more on hard evidence.

(dial tone)

-(sighs)
-(phone clicks)

(car engine starts)

(eerie music playing)

(car revs)

[Cindy] Shotgun, shotgun.

[Mark] You got shotgun
last time.

Mommy, look.

(softly) Oh, no...
Leave it alone, Mark.

Come inside the house,
now, kids.

[Mark] What is it, Mommy?

Just come inside
the house, now, kids.

-[Mark] Maybe a dog left it.
-Get away from it.

Get away. Come on, in the house.

(eerie music playing)

(indistinct chatter
on police radio)

(indistinct chatter)

What's he telling us?

That we'll never catch him.

He used to be
a classic impersonal killer.

Meaning?

He doesn't wanna
know his victims,

so he doesn't feel bad
when he kills them.

This victim's still alive.

(softly) Let's hope so.

Could be a copycat.

No.

It's the same man
trying to convince me

he's a genius.

(indistinct police chatter)

(chatter over radio)

(water flowing)

This isn't a cross-examination,
Mr. Baxter,

so can you give us a hint?

Are these samples any good?
Are they all jack?

Pressure does not
improve evidence.

Excuse me, you think
this is pressure?

Look...

Do you even understand
soil sample search?

Sure, when I can get
my breasts out of the way,
I read quite a bit.

You got your little case,
with your limited facts,

I've got the world
to cross reference.

It could be evidence from
where the person was dragged,

where the attack occurred,
any number of places.

I'm not even talkin' hair yet.

-What about fiber?
-Fiber...

is interesting.

They had some on the outside
of the wrapping papers.

Different wrappings.

And different manufacturers.

The shin was
Charleston Gift Press
metallic finish,

ankle and foot,
standard Barton-Dunne
ultra-weave decorative.

Same on both.

[Baxter] Exactly.

Any ideas?

Look, I, I don't deal in ideas.

I'm an empiricist.

The data's determined,
I reach a conclusion
based on it.

Which could be
absolutely meaningless.

True.

Thank you.

Asshole.

(scoffs)

With internal examination
complete, we will now close.

Whatever differences we have,
I'd like you to make
some arrangements.

You quit buying my lunch
a long time ago, dad.

Just protect your family.

I'm well aware of that.

Why do you do it like that?

It's how I do it!

It's not the right stitch.

(Peter scoffs)

It's the one I've used
on hundreds of cadavers

inside and out
and I've never had a problem.

What's she gonna do?
Shake it off? Huh?

What are you mad about?

All right.

I'm mad because
in my entire life

you've never shown
a shit's worth of interest

in a damn thing I've done.

But now that
you finally acknowledge

that I am
a forensic pathologist,

that I actually make a living
at it like you did,

of course, you don't think
I do it right.

You pick apart
my fucking stitches.

I'm concerned.

It's just I never had it before,

I don't think I suddenly
want your quality time now.

Peter, I understand.

And protecting my family!

Where the hell did you get off

telling me about protecting
my family?

Huh?

You dragged my mother
through shit!

You couldn't protect
your own family!

But now what?
You wanna give me advice?

You're still my son.

You keep your fucking hands off.

(intense music playing)

All right.

(door shuts)

(traffic buzzing)

(indistinct chatter)

Good men don't play
against themselves.

-You have time?
-For you? Two minutes.

(timer clicking)

Tell me, Marshall.

When did I become
stupid enough to write
the damned book?

Come on, you had to write it.
Don't be so hard on yourself.

I was selfish.

Facin' the truth...

is always risky.

It wasn't as noble as that.

Why? Because you saw you were
making money out of it?

What's the big deal?

Because I was willing
to let it make money.

Oh, what the hell?
Give the money to charity.

I sold out.

I put people in danger.

Really you're being too hard
on yourself.

Don't act crazy.

And you're ruining your game.

I'm ruining my life.

Hmm.

Unfortunately, Rocky's paying
a very personal price

for what you had to do.

And you have to live with it.

But then again, you always
have to live with something.

Time's up.

(dramatic music playing)

Hewlett?

Anything new?

Maybe.

I'm, uh, thinking about
some more non-Franz candidates

just to cover our butts.

Thinking? That's a good way
of using the taxpayers' money.

There are a few people

who have all
the technical qualifications.

Butcher.

Plastic surgeon.

Assistant medical examiner.

He very possibly has a motive.

Well, that's a great idea.

Neglected by
an overpowering father...

watched his mother in pain
while she was cheating on--

I know the story
better than you.

I know the part about how
he wet his bed until he was 13.

How he had a fascination
for fires.

Two of the traits the experts
seem to think that
most serial killers have.

Not to mention, millions of kids
who wouldn't hurt a fly.

Looks like you know Peter
very well.

(sighs) Okay, look...

Maybe he hated his dad.
God knows I hated mine.

But I didn't go carving bones
out of anybody.

Jesus!

I'd love to be there
when you tell Palmer
you're investigating Peter.

Wear a helmet.

(sighs)

(intense music playing)

(dramatic music playing)

(phone ringing)

(door opens)

(phone ringing)

(breathes heavily)

Bill Palmer.

Hello?

Hello!

(answering machine rewinds)

(phone beeps)

[Peter] Dad.

This is Peter.

[Peter sighs] We have to talk.

But not on your machine.
I think I really need to
explain some things...

and I know you do.

I just...

I don't think we can keep
butting heads like this

and I'm not about
to just suck it up again.

I will not suck it up again.

So, uh...

All right, call me back,
or I'll call you.

Bye.

(phone beeps)

(phone rings)

-Peter!
-[man] (distorted voice)
Still awake?

(dramatic music playing)

Uh, should I know
what this is about?

Do you want me to hang up?

Um, no.

(intense music playing)

I thought you might
want to talk.

Of course.

Sure, of course, I do.

You killed Rocky, didn't you?

Why?

He doesn't mean anything to you.

Ah, you don't understand,
do you?

(chuckles softly) No.

So why don't you tell me?

What's the point?

It's your point.

You started this.

So how do I end it?

Surely somebody
as literary as you

must know about sleeping dogs.

Look, if this is
about you and me,

why don't we meet somewhere
face to face?

It sounds like you're offering
to suck my cock, Bill.

Are you offering
to suck my cock, Bill?

-I know you, don't I?
- You are going
to see how naive you are.

Because it's gonna get
much harder to deal with
when it's the girl.

-What girl?
-You'd hate to have her think

that you're a fool.

You'd eat a yard of shit
to see where it came from.

-What are you talkin about?
-What's she gonna think of you?

What's she gonna think when
I'm working and she's screaming

and she's wondering
where the hell you are?

What's the cop gonna think?

(intense music playing)

(clock ticking)

(oven beeping)

(cat yowling)

(thunder rumbling)

(cat yowling)

Never let me down
when the food's hot,
do you, Oliver?

(bells chiming)

(cat yowling)

(intense music playing)

Oliver!

Come on, kitty.

(cat yowling)

(line ringing)

(phone ringing)

Come on! Come on!

Jesus.

(thunder rumbling)

Come on, kitty.

Come on.

(cat whimpering)

-(cat meowing)
-(thunder rumbling)

(screams)

-(intense music playing)
-(tires screeching)

(gasps)

Sharon?

(Sharon gasps)

(Sharon screams)

(intense music playing)

-Sharon!
-(panting)

Get up.

Come on.

It's all right.

Come on.

(intense music playing)

(muffled voices)

(intense music continues)

(muffled voices)

(muffled voices)

(siren blaring in distance)

[Bill] Peter?

Call me, please.

I'm telling you, I'm fine.

I don't need this.

Detective,
we've been down this road
on your judgment before.

You know damn well
that's unfair.

I'm not sure I do.

I gave you some rope once
even though I shouldn't have.

-And you hung yourself!
-Look!

If you're telling me
you want me off the case,

then just say so!

But don't insult me
by telling me

you want me to take a breather
for a couple of days.

You have been mentioned.

Probably by the killer,
as a possible victim.

I'm a cop!

Does that mean
I'm supposed to go away?

No, you're a cop,
you're supposed to do
what I tell you to do.

You're supposed to be
off this case.
I don't want you involved.

(indistinct yelling)

I wouldn't.

Problems?

-[Cobb] And you're in danger.
-Not your fight.

His voice is on here.

(sighs)

-All right?
-What?

What was that about?

Cobb wants me off the case.

Why?

(sighs) For old times' sake.

I guess he doesn't believe
I've learned anything

all the years
I've done this job.

I was married
when I joined the force,

and I, uh, I got pregnant
sooner than we had planned.

You know, it wasn't like
I-I lied to him or anything,

I told Cobb right away,
and I begged him to let me
stay on the field.

(sighs) My husband, you know,
was givin' me shit
every night saying,

"Whoa, what if
something happens?"

You know, "What if we have
to see a doctor?" And just...

You don't wanna hear that,
you know? (chuckles softly)

And then, I, um...

I'm in this situation.

Turns into a chase,

and, uh, I won't wait
for backup.

You know, Miss Tough Guy.

And I go runnin'
and I come around this corner
and, uh...

the guy kicks me.

(mellow music playing)

And I, uh...

lost my baby.

(Sharon sniffles)

Lost my son because
I was an asshole.

'Cause I had to be a hero.

(Sharon sobs)

-(phone ringing)
-(indistinct chatter)

You are gonna love this.

Okay.

Wrapping paper.

This is the close-up of the back
of the paper that the ankle
and foot bones were wrapped in.

-Why the back?
-Well, look at the numbers.

Dye lot and production
run numbers at the end
of a roll, on the back.

Hmm.

Barton-Dunne shipping records
showing where a roll

with these numbers
would've been shipped.

I'll be damned.

It was sent exactly 150 miles

from where I'm standing
to lovely Bennington, Illinois,
where...

There are 15 Franz's
in the phone book.

I'm on my way.

[Sharon] "In the darkest bottom
of the fearful, outraged,
damaged thing,

"that was his heart, Bone Daddy
lived for the feeling of
the Big Moment.

"The feeling of the cut,
the give

"the hot splash.

"He gave this feeling a name.

"He called it Kill Sport.

"He could only unloose
the terrible, coiled thing
inside him

"when he drove deep
through muscle,
when he hit bone.

"Broke bone, cut cartilage.

"He stood before his mirror
knowing he must go again
and again and again.

"And he saw
no squalid reptile brow.

"He recognized
no blown-circuit eyes.

"He beheld instead,
the mightiest purity."

What in the world would a writer
want to accomplish
with something like this?

It's fiction.

Based on certain true events.

But one of those events
is now a sicko,

out there on the loose,
responding to what you wrote.

I... When I write, it comes
from all kinds of places,

all kinds of people,
different experiences.

This is seven years ago.

But don't you feel
in any way responsible

for what happens
because of your fiction?

Obviously you think I am.

As a writer,

the truth is
what I want it to be.

There is no real truth.

There's only interpretation.

But you give this guy no choice.

(stammers)
He has to strike back.

I mean, you're walkin'
on his turf.
You've edged him out.

If I were him,
if I were the killer,

and I read what you wrote,
I'd go ape-shit.

(chuckles)

I'm sorry,
if you were the killer...

-I'd be very nervous.
-(chuckles)

And I wouldn't be sitting here
talking to you.

-So tell me about Franz.
-Franz?

He was into mathematics.

He was a computer whiz,
he was a good man,

but he had way too many things
on his plate.

He was also a hell of a drinker.

What about his wife?

I've been waiting
for that question.

She was...

wonderful, mad,

sexy, bright.

Were you close?

We used to have this group,

this elite group, we'd come here

during our night shift
with our cell phones
and our beepers.

We'd have discussions,
play fast games of chess,

and then, Carol and Franz
would pop in...

and he would get
very drunk, very fast.

And she would play chess
with us.

And win.

Hey, she beat all of us
at one time or another.

And then what happened?

You know what,
you ask too many questions.

You get the job,
you ask the questions.

Well...

Hey, there he is.

Oh, wait, now. You don't look
as relaxed as I told you to be.

He look relaxed to you?

Phil, you need to help me.

I need to get my book pulled.

(sighs) Bill...

The book is in every book store
and the half the supermarkets
across America.

You can't pull a ship back
into port when it's going
the opposite way.

It's the best opening title
this year. They're getting
incredible feedback.

Tell him I'll sue.

Well, have I ever been able to
stop you from doing
what you wanna do? Hmm?

I'm sure they'll tell you
to go ahead.

And I'm not an agent
or anything,
but you do have a contract.

You wrote the thing,
and they spent
all kinds of money

to print it, advertise it
and supply the retailers.

So you can kick and scream
all you want,

but you don't have a fucking leg
to stand on in the real world,

and you know it!
And I can't help you.

Phil...

Can I talk to you for a second?

What?

You heard me.

Phil...

you're fired.
Put a spin on that.

I hate writers.

(traffic buzzing)

(wheels rolling)

(keyboard keys clacking)

Okay, let's try it.

[man] (distorted voice) You are
going to see how naive you are.

Because it's gonna get
much harder to deal with

when it's the girl.

You'd hate to have her think
that you're a fool.

You'd eat a yard of shit...

It doesn't sound
any different to me.

It sounds completely different.

Help us here, son.
We're not trained,

so we're not just quite hearing
what you're hearing.

Right now, I've taken about half
the high-end multi-dupe
simul-masking out.

(sighs) That means...

A part of his voice
is pretty much right out there
for us to hear.

Only it's still masked
by all the other garbage

I've gotta take
from the rest of his voice.

-(sighs)
-[Bill] Peter Palmer, please.

Can you tell him to call me
as soon as he shows up?
It's his father.

On the money, Moose.

You found Franz.

Just outside
lovely Bennington, Illinois.

He lives with his son.

(exhales sharply)

Be careful, Hewlett.

(sighs)

(dramatic music playing)

(panting)

(breathing heavily)
What the fuck do you want?

We're trying to locate
your father.

You think my father
needs to see you?

I'm afraid he has to.

I hear your boy, Dr. Petey's
climbing the ladder.

You keep it in the family, huh?

Miss Detective Hewlett,

has the good doctor here
explained the slash and burn
approach to life?

-We can get a writ.
-(chuckles)

You see, Petey and I were
accepted to the same med school,

except I had to quit.

Had a foot-the-bill problem
all of a sudden.

Unemployment in the family.

We can still get a writ.

You wanna talk to my father?

Come on.

(dog barking in distance)

(door closes)

[Mort Jr.] Dad, somebody wants
to talk to you.

-Mort?
-(gasps)

One, two, three,

four, five.

One, two, three,

four, five.

You could've spared us this.

What the fuck have you ever
spared him, huh?

Besides, he's far enough along,
he doesn't care.

(murmuring) One, two three...

He's not confused about

what he thinks
he remembers anymore.

-Kinda makes him
a bad suspect, huh?
-One, two, three, four, five...

So get the fuck out of here,
Dr. Palmer,

before I hit you
with the lawsuit from hell.

One, two, three, four, five.
One, two, three, four, five.

One, two, three, four, five.

-[Franz] One, two, three...
-How is your mother?

What the fuck are you?

-Hey! Hey! Hey!
-...three, four, five!

-Hey! Hey!
-You want to take
another shot at her?

She's not here!

She couldn't take it anymore.
You're a fucking cancer!

(speaking gibberish)

-You're a fucking cancer.
-One, four, three, four...

(panting)

(Mort Jr. sobbing)
You fucking cancer.

Why'd you have to say that?

[Mort Jr.] You fucking cancer.

It's exactly what he wanted.

He wanted you to come there,
so you'd see that.

(lighter clanks)

We're wrong
ruling out a copycat.

You said he was escalating.

He's not escalating

when he keeps his victim alive,

when he leaves the body,
when he leaves his voice
on tape,

and purposefully sends you
on a wild goose chase.

That's a different MO.

And I think it's an insider.

I was in love with her.

Isn't that amazing?

Not so amazing.

We were out of control.

Tried to make it work.

And then one day she just
packed her bags and left.

I never saw her again.

Kim and I separated and we,
eventually, we got a divorce.

Then I quit and started writing.

And in the process of it all...

I lost my son, too.

There's a difference.

You can get yours back.

(scoffs)

-Joey!
-Joey!

-Joey! Joey!
-Joey! Joey! Joey!

-[Leslie] Okay, guys.
-[kids] Joey!

-(Joey barking)
-(knocking on door)

-[Leslie] Joey, hello!
What's up?
-[Kim] Hi, Joey.

-[Mark] Hey, Joey.
-[Leslie] Everybody, take your
covers off, guys.

Joey, what is this?
You wanna go out?

(barking)

Joey, what...

(Joey growling)

Oh, my God.

(gasps)

Kids, don't run.

Leslie?

Mommy, could I have some juice?

Not now, honey.

We've been robbed.

We better call the police.

(indistinct chatter
on police radio)

-[Bill] How about this color?
-[Sharon] Dusted there...

-[man] Thanks.
-[Sharon] Upstairs.

I can't find Peter.

I called his office, the gym,
all the usual places.

Yeah, I know,
I called them, too.

Daddy was gonna read me
this book tonight.

Can you, grandpa?

Sweetie, why don't I read it
for you upstairs?

-Maybe another time.
-You want me to take your book?

Is there anything missing?

Um, no. Nothing.

[Sharon] Maybe this
isn't a robbery.

Maybe Peter just lost it.

Okay, you can start cleaning up.
We're about done here.

(dramatic music playing)

You know he fits the category.

What are you talking about?

Peter.

He's an insider.

We said it had to be an insider.

-You got to be kidding.
-Think about it.

You're talking about my son.

[Sharon] I'm talking
about a motive.

(music continues)

It's his copy.

I've gotta take this to Cobb.

It can't be.

I'm sorry.

-[Sharon] Bag, please.
-You're jumping to conclusions.

There's not enough evidence.

There's more
than enough evidence.

I'm getting a warrant.

What are you talking about?
For Peter?

You're getting a warrant
for Peter?

Are you crazy,
you son of a bitch?

-You son of a bitch.
-Come on. Stop it right there.

He's not here and you people
are making him out

to be some kind of a criminal?

I won't let you hurt him, Bill.

You hear me?

You cannot let anything
happen to him.

Kim. Kim.

-Look, nothing's gonna
happen to our son--
-(sobbing)

Bill?

You can't believe that.

No.

But he fits the profile.

He does resent me.
Knows all about me.

That's a motive.

He doesn't resent you.

He wants to be like you.

You don't know what it's like
to have a father
you can't please.

He just wants your approval.

(scoffs)

Yeah.

There's something
I'm not getting.

What?

I have to check something.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

Perfect match.

I don't know.
He was here this morning,
but he seemed upset.

Trent.

You have a moment?

What's happening with Peter?

I need your help.

Well, the police,
they're all over his office.

I need to get into the morgue.

(intense music playing)

Where is he?

-Where the hell is he?
-Bill?

Bill. Bill.

-Time out. Time out.
-(panting)

-All right.
-You're with me?

Now, what are we looking for?

Um...

-Rocky.
-Rocky?

-Yeah.
-He's right here.

Let's take a look.

Who did the autopsy?

Well, nobody yet.

Where did these sutures
come from?

That's how he came in.

Rocky?

Talk to me, Rocky.

Tell me what I'm not seeing.

The woman.

The black woman
that Peter was working on,

where is she?

Right here.

Do you remember the fight
we had over this?

How he always does his stitches
the same way?

Yeah, sure.

Look at them.

And these...

are completely different.

You're right.

(distorted voice
plays on recorder)

How are we doing?

We are doing...

He's good.

He's very good.

He went to
a lot of trouble here.

But nobody ever goes...

to enough.

[man] (distorted voice)
...sleeping dogs.

What now, Bill?

(intense music playing)

What the hell are you doing?

[Trent] Are you crazy?

-Now.
-What?

Trent, look.

The stitches on this man
are the same as the stitches
on Rocky.

So who did the work here?

Uh...

Oh, my God.

Peter.

[Peter]
I will not suck it up again.

(device buzzing)

So, uh...

All right, call me back,
or I'll call you. Bye.

That was Peter's message.

And this...

is our filtered friend.

[man] (distorted voice)
You are going
to see how naive you are.

Because it's gonna get
much harder to deal with

when it's the girl.

[Peter] I think I really need
to explain something.

Sounds like
they could be similar.

(voices overlap)

(recorder rewinds)

[man] (distorted voice)
What she's gonna think of you?

What she's gonna think
while I'm working
and she's screaming...

(voices overlap)

[Peter] Not on your machine,
I think I really need to...

Wait a minute.
It's not the same.

Give me that again.

(voices overlap)

(recorder rewinds)

(voices overlap)

[man] You are going to see
how naive you are.

(voices overlap)

Right there.

Right there.

Right now.

[man] You'd hate to have her
think that you're a fool.

You'd hate to have her think
that you're a fool.

I know him.

[man] What she's gonna think

while I'm working
and she's screaming,

and she's wondering
where the hell you are.

What's the cop gonna think?

Holy shit.

(dramatic music playing)

"How naive and wrong he was."

That's what I told him

for making me out to be
some sort of a slow child,

and fucking Mort and Franz?

I showed him Mort and Franz.

And now I'm gonna show him
what it feels like

to lose something
that he was proud of,

something he thought
that he had.

(Peter groans)

(panting)

Can you guess what that is,
Peter?

Can you guess?

Marshall.

(grunts)

I'm not cutting you up
and pulling out your parts.

I'm leaving you
in one dead piece.

I want a herd of uniforms
and I want Palmer.

Get them
to Marshall Stone's home.

-We don't have a warrant yet.
-Get it.

I'm on my way.

[Sharon] The whole damn thing's
a setup.

He grabbed Peter,
ransacked the house,

so we'd find the book that
he planted in Peter's office.

He wanted us to think
it was Peter.

He wanted us to look stupid
just like Palmer said.

We've been led around
by the bloody nose.

I need that warrant
ten minutes ago.

Don't be a hero, detective.
You'll get it.

Okay.

(siren wailing)

To go from a mediocre
forensic pathologist

to a bad author is one thing,

but when he had the gall
to write about me,

fuck with my masterpiece,

who does he think that he is?

He deals with fantasy,

I deal with reality.

And I'm better at it than he is.

(intense music playing)

Listen to this crap.
Listen to this crap.

"Bone Daddy lived
for the feeling
of the big moment.

"The feeling of the cut,
the give, the hot splash."

What does he know
about my feelings?

And here. Here.

"He could only unloose
the terrible coiled thing

"inside
of his dime store bullshit."

Dime store bullshit!

"He beheld instead
the mightiest purity..."

What right does he have?
What right does he have?

And here. Here.

He saw it all.

Right through you.

(groaning)

(sobbing) No...

(tires screech)

Peter!

Peter?

Peter?

(sobbing) No!

[Stone] His perfect son,

the golden boy.

For the rest of his life,
he'll have to live
with the nightmare

that you became Bone Daddy.

(phone ringing)

Stone!

(siren wailing)

Come on.

(glass shatters)

(intense music playing)

Stone?

Stone?

(groaning)

(tires screech)

[Bill] Peter!

Peter?

Peter?

(gasps)

Oh, my God!

What did he do to you? Huh?

What did he do?

-(Peter grunting)
-Oh, God.

[Bill] Peter.

Do you understand?
Do you understand?

Peter? Come on, son.

No, you're losing him, Billy.

You've forgotten
how phenosiodonal works?

[Bill] You poisoned him,
you son of a bitch.

[Stone] It would take
about 50 CCs of real help.

I'm taking him to the hospital.

What about me?

Hah! You don't exist.

Are you sure?

Who are you gonna blame
for the rest of your life?

Who are you gonna blame

when you can't stop thinking
about your son?

(grunting)

Come on, son. Sit up. Up.

Watch out.

Behind you! No!

(groans)

Listen to me.

Punctured lung.

(groans)

(groans)

(groaning)

(grunts)

(clattering)

(grunting)

(water hissing)

(dramatic music playing)

(laughing)

(grunts)

(groaning)

(grunts)

Don't move.

Son, come on.

Come on, there you go.

(grunts)

(intense music playing)

(grunts)

(gunshots)

(gun clicking)

(hissing)

(eerie music playing)

Dad.

(helicopter whirring)

(mellow music playing)

(mellow music continues)

(suspenseful music playing)

(music continues)