Grand Theft Auto

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In Chapter 27 of WILSHIRE BOULEVARD, homicide dicks Bernie Keko and Aya Meir get called on the carpet by chief Larry Lipshitz for not being able to trace murder suspect Carrie Love's phone call. Meanwhile, Carrie steals new wheels and goes on the lam ...


INT./EXT. CARRIE'S STOLEN CAR - MOVING - DAY
Carrie drives a vintage Dodge Dart Swinger.
Nondescript in shades and baseball cap
that advertises some cheap booze.

She takes a long pull
from a pint bottle.

CARRIE (V.O.)
It was the first time I
played Grand Theft Auto.
The trick is to swipe an old beater
that no one will report stolen.
Thank god I’ve got enough scratch
to hide out for a while.
At least until I can
clean up this mess.
(beat)
I could drain my savings account,
go down to Mexico like a grifter
in some Ross MacDonald story.
Get a shitty motel room by the beach,
write that tragic, drunken confessional
that’s been oozing outta my pores.

She thinks.
Takes a slug.

Picks up her cell.
Dials. Listens --

CARRIE
Jenny?

SPLIT SCREEN WITH:

INT. YAVO/FLENDER FILMS - RECEPTION - AT THAT MOMENT
Jenny sits at her workstation.
Sips coffee.

Shuffles the stacks of paperwork.
Murmurs into her headset.

JENNY
Carrie, hi.
How are you?

CARRIE
I’ve been better.


JENNY
W-what’s wrong?

CARRIE
The cops want me.
I was framed for Flender’s murder.
They matched the bullets to my gun,
which someone STOLE.
I’m in deep shit.

JENNY
(small voice)
You’re -- kidding.

ANGRY MALE VOICE (O.C.)
JENNY. Where’s the Crabb deal?
I can’t find the FUCKING CRABB DEAL!

JENNY
Modi, hold on I’m on the phone --
(to Carrie)
Just sit tight.
When I get home I’ll fix us some dinner,
and we can plan our strategy.

CARRIE
We? OUR strategy?

JENNY
Well, yeah -- I just thought -- since --

CARRIE
Listen, baby -- I’d love your help,
but do you realize how dangerous this is?
I can’t get you mixed up in this,
this is serious shit, and I --

Carrie gasps.
Sucks in air.

JENNY
Shhhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.
are you now?

MODI (O.C.)
JENNY!

CARRIE
It’s best if you don’t know.
I’ll call you later when I get settled.
Just don’t tell anyone anything,
you don’t know anything --

JENNY
Okay, I understand, I gotta go, I’m --
(whispers)
Getting yelled at.

She punches a button.
Heart beating a mile a minute.

MODI
appears. Fists clenched.
Face beet red.

MODI
(hisses)
Get me that fucking file, stupid BITCH.

PUSH IN ON Jenny.
Frightened to death.

JENNY
S-sure thing, r-right away --

INT. POLICE HEADQUARTERS - LIPSHITZ’S OFFICE - AT THAT MOMENT
Larry leans forward in his chair.
Stares at Bernie and Aya.

Standing before him.
In trouble. Baleful.

LIPSHITZ
It was a simple task.
Just KEEP HER ON THE FUCKING PHONE --
long enough to GET A TRACE.

BERNIE
She was a cop, Larry.
She knows the drill.
Despite being inebriated.
(beat)
She was a good cop once, you know --

AYA
Captain, may I have a word?

LIPSHITZ
You can have ten, twenty, a hundred.
But not here, not now.
We’ve got work to do,
and I don’t have time for your
touchy-feely psych-101 mumbo-jumbo.

AYA
But sir --

LIPSHITZ
Zip it, or you’ll be back on the kibutz
so fast your dreidel will spin like a top.
(beat)
Wait a minute --
(inhales)
You two are going to prowl the beach joints.
her thing, right, Bernie?

BERNIE
Yeah.
She used to say she got a nosebleed
if she went east of Lincoln.
There’s a few hotels and
flea-bag joints we can check out.
Not to mention the gin joints
on the boardwalk.

LIPSHITZ
Then hop to it.
And find her, fast, because this is
quickly becoming a major embarrassment
to the department.

DISSOLVE TO:

A SMALL TELEVISION SET
in a tiny motel room.
Seen from the next room.

COCKY, SMILING ANCHOR (V.O.)
-- linking the murder weapon
a Ms. Carrie Love, 36,
former Santa Monica homicide detective,
now a private investigator --

CARRIE’S FACE
fills the screen.

Damn, she looks angry.
But still kinda cute.

COCKY, SMILING ANCHOR (V.O.)
If you see this woman,
call your local precinct immediately.
And stay away.
This is one dangerous lady.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Lady, my ass.

INT. SHITTY MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Carrie stands in front of the bathroom mirror.

A towel around her shoulders.
Her hair is now bleached-blonde white.

CARRIE
Brigitte Nielson, eat your heart out.

She grabs a pair of hair clippers.
Holds it to her head.

CARRIE
Time to get all Britney Spears
on their asses.

And starts CHOPPING OFF
her long, beautiful hair.

CARRIE (V.O.)
Maybe I sleep around.
But that doesn’t make me a bad person.
Sue me. I was drawn that way.
I didn’t fucking KILL anyone.
Okay, maybe I like a cocktail now and then,
but I’m not a fucking MURDERER.
And okay, so I like to
bend the rules a little.
But that’s no reason to FRAME me.
(beat)
So fuck all of you.
You don’t want me around, FINE.
I’ll buy myself a one-way ticket to Splitsville.
Do the disappearing tango on your asses.
I’ll go to Frisco, do a Dashiel Hammett.
Find a Continental Opp-ortunity.

She’s done.
Hair in blocky, spiky chunks.

She slides on shades.
Sneeers at her reflection.

CARRIE (V.O.)
But first, it’s time for the eulogy --