going anywhere and you know it, Counselor. level with him.
MR. JONES: I want out. This place is depressing. I can’t
concentrate.
MR. TOKARIK: I understand, Chip, but MR. JONES: No buts, Tony. I
want out. A l’exte”‘ieur O.U.T.
MR. TOKARIK: Of course, Chip. You know I’ll do everything IMR.
JONES: I want out, Tony. I’m a good person. This is totally
Kafkaesque.
bET. STURGIS: Good person, huh? Liar, torturer, murderer. . . Yeah,
I guess if you don’t count those minor technicalities, you’re up for
sainthood, Junior.
MR. JONES: I am a good person.
bET. STURGIS: Tell that to your daughter.
MR. JONES: She’s not my daughter.
MR. TOKARIK: ChipbET. SrvRGIS: Cassie’s not your daughter?
MR. JONES: Not strictly speaking, Detective. Not that it’s relevant-I
wouldn’t hurt anyone’s child.
bET. STURGIS: She’s not yours?
MR. JONES: No. Even though I’ve raised her as if she were.
All the responsibility but none of the ownership.
bET. MARTINEZ: Whose is she, then?
MR. JONES: Who knows? Her mother’s such a compulsive roundheels,
jumps anything with a- In pants. God only knows who the father is. I
sure don’t.
bET. STIIRGIS: By “her mother you’re referring to your wife? Cindy
Brooks Jones.
MR. JONES: Wife in name only.
MR. TOKARIK: ChipMR. JONES: She’s a barracuda, Detective. Don’t
believe that innocent exterior. Pure predator. Once she snagged me,
she reverted to type.
bET. STURGIS: What type is that?
MR. TOKARIK: I’m calling this session to a halt right now.
Any further questions are at your legal risk, Detective.
bET. S’rURGIS: Sorry, Chip. Your legal beagle, here, says zip the
lip.
MR. JONES: I’ll talk to whom I want, when I want, Tony.
MR. TOKARIK: For God’s sake, ChipMR. JONES: Shut up, Tony. You’re
growing tedious.
bET. STURGIS: Better listen to him, Prof He’s the expert.
MR. TOKARIK: Exactly. Session ended.
bET. SrvRGIS: Whatever you say.
MR. JONES: Stop infantilizing me-all of you. I’m the one stuck in
this hellhole. My rights are the ones being abridged.
What do I have to do to get out of here, Detective?
MR. TOKARIK: Chip, at this point there’s nothing you can doMR. JONES:
Then what do I need you for? You’re fired.
MR. TOKARIK: ChipMR. JONES: Just shut up and let me get a thought
out, okay?
MR. TOKARIK: Chip, I can’t in good conscience MR. JONES: You don’t
have a conscience, Tony. You’re a lawyer. Quoth the Bard: “Let’s kill
all the lawyers.” Okay? So just hold on . . . okay. . . Listen, you
guys are cops-you understand street people, how they lie. That’s the
way Cindy is. She lies atavistically it’s an ingrained habit. She
fooled me for a long time because I loved hen”When my love swears that
she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies.”
Shakespeare-everything’s in Shakespeare.
Where was I…?
MR. JONES: Kristie’s my student. Why? Does she say it’s more than
that?
bET. STURGIS: Actually she does.
MR. JONES: Then she’s lying-another one.
bET. STURGIS: Another what?
MR. JONES: Predator. Believe me, she’s old beyond her years.
I must attract them. What happened with Kristie is that I ø caught her
cheating on a test and was working with her on her ø ø ethics. Take my
advice and don’t accept anything she says at face value.
bET. STURGIS: She says she rented a post office box for you out in
Agoura Hills. You have the number handy, Steve?
MR. TOKARIK: Chip, for your own sake MR. JONES: She’s amazing,
Detective. Could charm the bark off a tree. Serve me dinner and smile
and ask me how my day had been-and an hour before, she was in our
marital bed, screwing the pool man. The pool man, for God’s sake.
We’re talking urban legend here. But she lived it.
bET. SrvRGts: By “the pool man” you’re referring to Greg Worley of
ValleyBrite Pool Service?
MR. JONES: Him, others-what’s the difference? Carpenters, plumbers,
anything in jeans and a tool belt. No trouble getting tradesmen out to
our place-oh, no. Our place was Disneyland for every blue-collar
cocksman in town. It’s a disease, Detective. She can’t help herself
Okay, rationally, I can understand that. Ungovernable impulses. But
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