Basement Jack

Chris Watts:
[drops coin in newspaper slot] It's easier with those.

Karen Cook:
We-we, uh, we met this morning. [smiles and chuckles] How are you? Ah, it-it's...

Chris Watts:
You know, they post the lottery numbers at the corner store.

Karen Cook:
I'm not interested in the lottery numbers. [puts more coins in and takes the paper] I want the headline. [begins looking at paper]

Chris Watts:
Uh, your car is in the red.

Karen Cook:
How far is South Ridge from here?

Chris Watts:
I'd say it's about 20 miles. Listen, the street cleaners come at four, so you might wanna move your vehicle. Are you asking me because of the murders yesterday?

Karen Cook:
[studying paper intently] Yeah.

Chris Watts:
[looks down] I don't know what kind of animal can kill an entire family.

Karen Cook:
At seventeen years, Jack Riley killed his mother, then he killed four families, including my own, before he was caught.

Chris Watts:
[looks away uncomfortably] I'm sorry.

Karen Cook:
Because he was underage, he was tried as a juvenile. Some smart-ass psychologist, desperate public defendant conjured up this lame defense that he was not guilty by reason of temporary insanity.

Chris Watts:
How did they come to that?

Karen Cook:
Psychologist entered into evidence a bunch of slasher movies, claiming media saturation prejudiced his right to a fair trial.

Chris Watts:
[in disbelief] Media saturation?

Karen Cook:
The news media started calling him "Basement Jack." Comparing him to any number of movie psychos, he became a schoolyard taunt. [nods at Chris; looks away and grabs envelope] This is some of his handiwork. [gives pictures from envelope to Chris, who takes them intrigued and looks] The jury bought the defense and sent him to some plush psych ward for ten years. He was released almost a year ago. [sighs and takes another document, reading] Severe weather patterns in the spring. Reported here. Also here and here. Five families murdered.

Chris Watts:
[slightly shakes head] So, what, bad weather is his trigger?

Karen Cook:
And me. All these murders occurred in towns where I lived. He's following me. Finishing up a loose end. And then a storm hits and he attacks, so I move.

Chris Watts:
Think he's here?

Karen Cook:
I know he is. Because I followed him here.

Karen Cook:
[rolls down window] Good morning, officer. Is something the matter?

Chris Watts:
That's exactly my question for you.

Karen Cook:
[looks around] Where did everyone go?

Chris Watts:
Home?

Karen Cook:
Ugh, I'm sorry. [juts head against the seat] I had a few last night and I didn't wanna drive so I just slept it off here. [sheepish smile]

Chris Watts:
This is a pretty rough side of town, ma'am.

Karen Cook:
I know. You're right. I'm stupid sometimes. Stupid alcohol.

Chris Watts:
I have family in Wicker Valley.

Karen Cook:
Sorry?

Chris Watts:
Your tags, they say Wicker Valley. So, is that where you're from?

Karen Cook:
Born and raised! On Oak Street.

Chris Watts:
[mock friendliness] Oh, Oak Street. Nice area!

Karen Cook:
[smiles] Yeah.

Chris Watts:
[looks off to the right] Of course, I guess every town's got an Oak Street. [looks back at Karen] What was the zip code there again?

Karen Cook:
[chuckles] I feel like I woke up on a game show. Some handsome MC with so many questions.

Chris Watts:
I'm going to need to see your license and registration, ma'am.

Karen Cook:
Sure.

Romanda:
A822

Chris Watts:
Watts here.

Romanda:
Watts, Romanda. Sergeant wants you back at the station for a meeting.

Chris Watts:
[talking on radio] I'm in the middle of a traffic stop, Romanda.

Romanda:
Now, Chris. Stupid rookies.

Chris Watts:
I gonna - I'm gonna need you to move the vehicle, ma'am.

Karen Cook:
It's Karen. Thanks, Chris. [puts head against seat again in relief as he leaves; she starts the car]