- [first lines]
- James Walter Wayland: I'm cutting across the park, just below the reservoir. It's a nice night. I feel like walking. I met a girl on the path I knew. We had a brief conversation, then I continued on. I never saw her again.
- Det. Edward Kennesaw: [Wayland explains that he was drunk on hard liquor. Absinthe. Much to the disbelief of Kennesaw and Braxton] You sure that's what it was?
- James Walter Wayland: Of course I am.
- Det. Edward Kennesaw: I've only seen one man on an absinthe binge in my whole career. One, twenty... twenty-one years and I tell you what, it ain't pretty.
- James Walter Wayland: That a fact?
- Det. Edward Kennesaw: It is. A few years back, we get this call around 4a.m. Some artist downtown screaming bloody murder in his apartment. Keeping the rest of the tenants awake. So we go there, we knock, nothing. But we know he's in because we could hear him, this little whimpering noise. Ends up we have to kick in the door and there's this guy sitting in the middle of his floor, naked, surrounded by a bunch of lousy paintings... with no skin on his legs. Zero. Totally flayed. In fact, if you breathed funny, the guy'd start yelping and he had this little Para Knife in his hand. Somehow, this wacko got it in his head that he was a big, fat Granny Smith apple. That's funny. It sounds funny, I know but it's the God's truth. Can you imagine? Thinking you're a six foot apple? Well, that's what this moron thought and he had peeled off his own skin about an inch at a time. But you know what the fucked up thing was? He only had about a half a bottle. So, I'm not saying here that you don't think you drank absinthe. I'm just saying that if you did, you wouldn't be able to finish the alphabet, let alone sit here and tell me what you did that night!
- Det. Edward Kennesaw: [Kennesaw has his suspicions about Wayland, suggesting that he's holding back something important about the case. Wayland meanwhile, is seated very awkwardly by the interrogation window.] I'm going to be honest with you. We don't have any real reason to suspect you here. This is just a routine interrogation brought on by an extremely mundane piece of evidence. But you're giving off all the wrong signals. You're making us think you got something to hide.
- James Walter Wayland: Oh yeah? How so?
- Det. Edward Kennesaw: Well, look at your body language. You're balled up there like you got a grenade in your crotch.
- James Walter Wayland: So?
- Det. Edward Kennesaw: Well so, it means you're-you're defensive, you're threatened. It's an instinctual reaction.
- James Walter Wayland: [He shrugs and smiles] I got a cramp.
- Det. Phillip Braxton: [Braxton goes to a church. Spots a confession booth, gets in and meets with Frank, a priest but also an employee of Mook, a gangster. Braxton knocks on the wooden window inside the booth] You in there?
- Priest: Of course I am. Good to see you, Phil.
- Det. Phillip Braxton: Well, here it is anyway.
- [Gives Frank a small envelope through one of the windows' openings]
- Priest: [Counts money. Finishes] There's only ten here, Phil.
- Det. Phillip Braxton: That's half, goddammit Frank! Who do you think I am? Donald fuckin' Trump? Jesus. Look ten grand ain't exactly chicken feed.
- Priest: I know. I know. Uh, it's a bad situation. Look, I'll talk to Mook. But I'm not making any promises. She wants 20.
- Det. Phillip Braxton: She knows I ain't got it.
- Priest: Don't shoot the goddamn messenger for Christ's sakes. These guys been around this town a long time. They're ingrown. I sure as shit ain't gonna let some penny, any flatfoot deal go at the bottom of the deck, I can tell you that right now.
- [Rambles incoherently]
- Priest: You just have to give it to her. There's no getting around it.
- Det. Phillip Braxton: Who does this bitch think she-?
- Priest: Easy. Easy. There's nothing to get upset about.
- Det. Phillip Braxton: Nothing to get upset about, Frank? I'm broke! Oh. How could I have gotten myself into this? Will you pray for me?
- Det. Phillip Braxton: [He frowns] What?
- Det. Phillip Braxton: You're still a priest, ain't you?
- Priest: [Thinks for a second] Oh yeah. Right.
- Det. Phillip Braxton: Anything. A Hail Mary or...
- Priest: Whatever you want Phil. Uhh...
- [He does the sign of the cross]
- Priest: May God be with you.
- James Walter Wayland: It's ironic, isn't it? That someone who tells the truth about lying is more suspect than someone who actually lies about it?