Show Business is Murder

KODAMA: Kiss my ass.

INT. BURN WARD, CEDARS SINAI

HOSPITAL-NIGHT

{Kodama, wearing her glasses, sits next to Ross’s bed, doing a sketch of the man who threw a Molotov at him. She stops and holds it up for the vp of development to see.}

KODAMA: How this?

ROSS: A little more shallowness in the cheeks and the eyes wider.

C.U. OF DRAWING

{Kodama resumes working on the drawing.}

ROSS (cont’d): (to Monk) This is the second time I’ve done this. I described this guy to the police sketch artist the detectives who interviewed me sent this afternoon. (beat) They’ve got a head start on you, Ivan. I heard the younger one tell the older one they were going to check the drawing against the Homeland Security database. And canvas several Arab hangouts in the San Gabriel Valley a sheriff ’s friend was hooking them up with.

MONK: When you hesitated this afternoon in describing this cat, that just wasn’t about guessing at his ethnicity was it?

{Kodama stops sketching to look at Monk.}

ROSS

{-chews his lower lip.}

ROSS: It’s just an impression.

MONK: Come on, share.

ROSS: As you know, I come into contact with a lot of actors. Not so much across my desk but at the hot spots, the watering holes that come and go on the A list one must frequent to keep up appearances.

MONK: And a starlet or two you might stumble over.

ROSS: Sure there’s that.

KODAMA

{-makes a face.}

MONK: Are you saying you’ve seen this guy at one of those places?

ROSS: No, like I said, it’s only a feeling. (beat) The way he, handled himself reminded me, well, like he was auditioning, you know?

{Monk and Kodama exchange a look.}

INT. TAYLOR’S STEAKHOUSE-

NIGHT-CONTINUOUS

{The steakhouse is an old school beef and booze joint with a dark interior and decor that hasn’t been updated since the LBJ Administration. Under the din of the patrons, a basketball game plays on the TV at the end of the bar.}

{Monk and Kagen sit in a booth in the upstairs area, enjoying their heavy caloric intake.}

MONK

{-finishes chewing and swallows. He has a drink of water, then reaches over to extract a folded photograph out of his jacket’s inner pocket hanging on a hook. He unfolds the photograph and places it on the table.}

CU

{-of the photograph, an actor’s headshot. His hair is longer in the shot, but it’s the young man who tossed the Molotov at Ross. On the credit line of the photo it reads: ALEX TUCCO}

WIDEN

{-Kagen shows no reaction as he samples more of his whiskey.}

KAGEN: Good kid. He’s got a kind of De Niro-Pacino thing going for him.

MONK: And I bet he’s scared shitless, Walsh, wherever you got him stashed. I suppose your lawyer will argue in court that he never meant to set Ross afire. That like the other one you hired to chuck a Molotov at you, Tucco was supposed to miss. But Ross charged him when he was about to throw the Molotov and it shook him.

{Kagen calmly cuts a piece of his steak.}

KAGEN: That’s good, I’ll have to remember that.

{He eats.}

MONK: You like to gamble, Walsh, you once got a two picture deal in a poker game against a producer with a hand of trip kings.

KAGEN: I play the odds, Ivan.

MONK: Fake the attacks to build up interest in the property, and hire me to show you’re still a player. But how the hell did you think engineering all this bullshit was going to get you a deal, Walsh? Nearly killing someone is a hell of a way to entice future prospects.

{Kagen has another piece of his steak and cleans his pallet with another swig of whiskey. He then clears his throat.}

KAGEN: Nobody was ever going to make Bring Me the Head of Osama bin Laden, Ivan.

MONK (pointing): But the attacks and the aftermath would generate coverage, you’d be the controversial writer-director on people’s lips like you once were when you did One Deadly Night.

KAGEN (misty-eyed): How many times have you seen it, Ivan?

MONK: At least four. The scene where Hack has been beaten by the guards and pieces of glass ground into his face and he just grins and tells them, “The thieves and junkies will always be on my side.” (shakes his head) Yeah, Walsh, you had it, man. (beat) Of course you’ve guessed when I got up to use the bathroom earlier, I placed a call to the cops.

{Walsh finishes his drink and dabs his mouth with his cloth napkin.}

MONK (cont’d): It wasn’t the potential money you could make, was it, Walsh?

KAGEN: The magic, Ivan, I missed the magic.

Kagen places the napkin gently on the table.

KAGEN (cont’d): Let’s have some dessert and coffee. The carrot cake’s great here.

FADE OUT.

Line Reading by PARNELL HALL

FLETCHER GREENGRASS HANDED me the silver samovar and fell over dead.

I must say I resented it. That was the cue for my big speech, I’d been working on it all week, I was really looking forward to it, and I wanted to do it right.