Fade to Black

[first lines]

Aunt Stella Binford:
[cynical tone] Eric! Get up! Well, lookie here. Mister Smart Mouth fell asleep with his nose buried in the screen again! Your one-eyed monster is gonna soften your eyes, much less rot your brain! You spend all your time day dreaming and watching those silly movies on the TV and on your projector.

Eric Binford:
[dressed and speaking as Hopalong Cassidy] Start dancing!

[fires a shot at Ritchie's feet]

Eric Binford:
Say your prayers!

Richie:
Hey, come on! What did I do? I'm sorry, I...

Eric Binford:
On your knees! Both knees!

Richie:
[whimpering] Please, why are you doing this? I didn't do anything to you.

[Eric suddenly breaks character by laughing insanely]

Eric Binford:
[normal voice] How does it feel now, Ritchie?

Richie:
Binford?

[alarmed he's been made, Eric shoots Ritchie several times in the chest, killing him. Eric holsters his gun and casually walks away into the background mist. The image fades to black]

Bart:
You think the cops suspect me of killing Ritchie even though I was his best friend?

Eric Binford:
The cops are paid to suspect everyone but catch no one. That Gallagher is just another flatfoot.

Bart:
What about that Moriarty character and his tests that he ran with us?

Eric Binford:
Just a half-wit shrink with a bunch of stupid questions.

Bart:
They even had Mr. Berger in here last night questioning him about Ritchie's murder. He's a nervous wreck and he has to go into the hospital next week for his operation.

Eric Binford:
What operation?

Bart:
Bypass operation. His heart's worse, man! But he refuses to slow down and continues to smoke and drink. He won't listen to anyone about his heart.

Eric Binford:
I didn't think he had one.

Bart:
Never mind that. How are they going to find Ritchie's killer?

Eric Binford:
[sly tone] Bart, if you can't identify him, who can?

Capt. M.L. Gallagher:
[angry tone] Moriarty, what the hell are you trying to pull behind my back? We questioned all those CFF employees very carefully. Normal police procedure. Now, who the hell gave you the authority to go behind my back and test them?

Jerry Moriarty:
I cooked up this questionnaire to flush out a suspect.

Capt. M.L. Gallagher:
Flush? That's exactly the right word I'm feeling about your actions! You don't run this police station! I do! For your information, this revolver we found in the back alley where that Ritchie kid was gunned down is the only real f***ing piece of evidence we have!

Jerry Moriarty:
I don't agree.

Officer Anne Oshenbull:
Captain Gallagher, Moriarty really has something here.

Jerry Moriarty:
Of those employees, three of them that took the test stand out as suspects. Eric Binford, Maria Valdez, and Herman...

Capt. M.L. Gallagher:
[rudely cutting him off] Maria Valdez? That spic broad who works in the shipping department is a killer? That's terrific, thank you Sherlock!

Jerry Moriarty:
Also, the newspapers think there is a link between the Dracula killing last week and this cowboy killer last night.

Capt. M.L. Gallagher:
One of the victims was a stock boy in an advertising firm and the other was a hooker. Where's the connection?

Jerry Moriarty:
I don't know yet. It's obviously that we need find this killer to stop...

Capt. M.L. Gallagher:
[rudely interupting againg] We? What do you mean "we"? You're not a cop! When did you join the police force? I brought you in as a shrink to interview delinquents, not form your own investigation!

Jerry Moriarty:
I'm just trying to help out.

Capt. M.L. Gallagher:
I don't need your help, or any of your psycho babble tests to help me find a killer! Just in case you didn't notice, you Irish cretin, nobody is asking for your help! So, just knock it off and leave the case to the cops!

Jerry Moriarty:
Captain, give me a chance. I know I'm onto something. I know the human mind, especially the sick ones.

Capt. M.L. Gallagher:
F*** the sick minds and f*** yours! Stay out of my way, and stay out of police business!

[Gallagher exits; Moriarty shakes his head with disbelief]

Jerry Moriarty:
[quiet voice] What an a**hole!

Eric Binford:
Mornin' Stella.

[Eric lights a cigarette and coughs]

Aunt Stella Binford:
Have you looked at yourself lately? You look like hell! [Eric takes a puff on his cigarette and blows the smoke into Aunt Stella's face] Stop making those faces at me! I'll tell you something, if you don't listen to me and start taking care of yourself you'll never reach age 30. [Eric continues to ignore Aunt Stella] When I took you in after your sweet mother died while giving birth to you I had no idea you'd be such a trial! Your mother was a beautiful woman. She was a great talent. Hollywood was at her feet. Important men were begging to marry her. Then she met your father, that bastard! With that, it was the end of our dance team. You know, I was a fine dancer, the best!

Eric Binford:
[sarcastic] Yeah, you're the greatest, Aunt Stella. You tell me that all the time. Magnificent.

Aunt Stella Binford:
It's your fault I'm in this wheelchair! You made me leave that party 20 years ago. Your little trouble-making belly aching! If it wasn't for you, I'd still have my legs!

Eric Binford:
I still can't believe your still bringing that up after all these years. I didn't ask the babysitter to call you. I was sick that night. I was only four years old. You were drunk and you should not have been driving...

Aunt Stella Binford:
Shut up! You're a loser, Eric! You're worthless just like your father was before he ran out on us!

Eric Binford:
Yeah, I know!

Marty Berger:
[angry tone] Where the hell have you been, Binford? I could have you arrested for stealing company property!

Eric Binford:
I needed wheels, Mr. Berger.

Marty Berger:
That's not an answer. Why can't you buy a car with the insurance money that your aunt left you?

Eric Binford:
That's none of your business.

Marty Berger:
You shut up! I've been hearing all kinds of things about your lately, Binford.

Eric Binford:
You mean like my wedding?

Marty Berger:
Now that is one I haven't heard. I can't picture the creature who'd want to marry you. Tell me, who is this unlucky girl?

Eric Binford:
She's a famous actress.

Marty Berger:
And who may this famous actress be?

Eric Binford:
Marilyn Monroe.

Marty Berger:
That's it! Hand over the key to the Vespa, Binford.

Eric Binford:
[mimicking James Cagey] It's Cody. Got it? Cody Jarrett and don't ever forget it!

Marty Berger:
Snap out of it, Binford, You name is not Cody. And get your goddamn hands off me! You're fired!

Eric Binford:
[normal voice] Too late. I quit!

Marty Berger:
Where are you going?

Eric Binford:
Out of my way! I'm going to clean out my work station.

Marty Berger:
This is my place of business and you're not going inside anymore! I told you that you're fired!

Eric Binford:
Mr. Berger, if you're firing me, I need to get my stuff out of there and my movie posters. My posters are valuable originals and I want them!

Marty Berger:
Well you forget them! Anything inside belongs to me! I'll just sell them and keep the money for myself! It might help to pay for some of your screw ups! Hell, I just might not sell them but burn 'em all to get rid of the memory that you ever worked here!

Eric Binford:
[mimicking James Cagey again] Nobody pushes Cody around! You'll be sorry, Big Ed!

Marty Berger:
You get off my property you little jerk! Who needs you? This is the best thing that could happen to me!

[Eric angrily walks away where he kicks over the Vespa, turns, gives Mr. Berger the middle-finger bent-elbow jester, and continues to walk away]

Marty Berger:
Why you son of a b*tch! I'll have your ass for this! Your ass! I'll sue! I'll...

[Mr. Berger suddenly begins painting and grabbing his chest as he begins to have another mild heart attack as he reaches for his heart pills]