Archive for the ‘Post 3.2’ Category

Saturday, March 24, 11:48 p.m.

Transcript of recording:

Katherine: Jack? You still there?

Jack: Yeah.

Katherine: So I guess Lucy gave you my cell phone number.

Jack: Yeah.

Katherine: Um…I’ve got your cigarettes if you want them back. And your car keys and driver’s license. So…

Jack: You could’ve left them with Lucy.

Katherine: She was…kind of…she was…I didn’t want to, just in case.

Jack: What?

Katherine: Did she tell you how she hurt her hand?

Jack: She hurt her what?

Katherine: Her hand. Did she tell you what she did to it?

Jack: No. She hurt her what, now?

(Silence for seventeen seconds.)

Jack: Can we talk?

Katherine: I guess, for a few minutes. It’s pretty late.

Jack: I met Harry for coffee this afternoon.

Katherine: Yeah, you said that.

Jack: He called me six times. Voicemails, y’know, the mother hen checking up.

Katherine: Is he some kind of friend of yours, or…

Jack: I guess.

Katherine: He wanted to…what? Make sure you were okay after the thing at the crime scene?

Jack: Coroner’s office botched the autopsy.

Katherine: Your wife’s?

Jack: What?

Katherine: They botched what autopsy?

Jack: The floater from Thursday.

Katherine: How do you mean? I don’t get it.

Jack: They fucked it up. As in, Harry’s assistant is a recovering meth head who chose this week to get back on the dragon, and he wrecked the body beyond belief.

Katherine: Are you serious?

Jack: Something about filling the abdominal cavity with inflated surgical gloves, I don’t know, I was so damned hungover.

Katherine: Yeah, I bet you were! I thought you’d die or something. You got so freakin’ drunk Thursday night.

(Silence for six seconds.)

Jack: Why didn’t you come with me?

Katherine: You told me to let you out.

Jack: I don’t remember. You were there, then you weren’t.

Katherine: You were plastered beyond belief. You told me to let you out, so…I mean, I had to get home. It was a work night.

Jack: You’re sure you didn’t follow me?

Katherine: No. I dropped you off outside the bar, then I drove home.

Jack: I think I did a very bad thing.

Katherine: What—the drinking? The pictures? What?

(Silence for eleven seconds.)

Katherine: Jack? Still there? Hello? Damn, I hate this phone sometimes!

Jack: I’m here.

Katherine: It’s getting late. So…

Jack: I need to tell you.

Katherine: Hm?

Jack: I already knew stuff Harry was telling me. About the body. I knew it had a tattoo on the left heel. Star of David. How the hell did I know that?

(Clinking sounds.)

Jack: What’s that?

Katherine: Hm?

Jack: Are you there? What’re you—

Katherine: So I opened a bottle of wine! I’m not made of stone! You’re drunk as hell.

Jack: Red?

Katherine: Yes.

Jack: Cab?

Katherine: No, gross, no. Merlot. Will you just wrap this up, please, so I can go to bed? Sorry. I…sorry. That’s rude and all. But come on Jack, I’m not following any of this, and I’m tired! I want to go to bed!

Jack: Sorry.

(Silence for twenty-three seconds.)

Katherine: Jack? Still there?

(Silence for seven seconds.)

Katherine: Jack? Jack?

Jack: I don’t talk to anyone.

Katherine: I’m sorry. I’m…God, I don’t know. Want me to drop your stuff off tomorrow?

Jack: Okay.

Katherine: When?

Jack: Before church?

Katherine: You go to church?

Jack: Don’t you?

(Silence for five seconds.)

Jack: I’ve been getting these weird text messages. They’re…I think maybe I did a really bad thing. Katherine? Katherine?

Katherine: Hm? What time is it? Jesus, it’s after midnight! I’ve got to go.

Jack: You’ll come over in the morning. Right?

Katherine: Fine, I guess, maybe.

Jack: Right?

Katherine: Yes, right, I’ll come over. I’ve got to go. It’s so late!

Jack: Okay. Good night.

Katherine: Bye.

End of recording