being
a cop's wife, right?
He'd want you to have that.
He loved you.
You look like stale piss.
What were you and Collins
doing with the victim?
He thought we were hit men.
He wanted us to whack a guy
in New Orleans.
Jesus Christ!
Who was this guy?
Paul Deveneux. Sent a bag of ashes
to his family in New Orleans.
Real sweethearts.
Whoever Deveneux wanted to waste,
he got him first, huh?
So who was this?
I never got a name.
That's great, Jillette.
What were you two doing?
Driving around in the moonlight?
You talk to the cops down there?
You tell them about Joey?
They say that's our problem.
My problem.
It's different down there.
You don't know New Orleans.
They don't even talk like us.
I'll make myself understood.
Mr. Deveneux will see you now.
Thanks.
Detective Jillette.
Allan Deveneux. I'm Paul's cousin.
I talked to your superiors.
I don't know what I can add.
Bernice, Mr. Jillette.
And Susan is Paul's wife.
I know this is difficult,
but I'd like to ask a few questions.
- Mint julep?
- No, thanks.
What business was your husband in?
Agriculture, oil, that sort of thing.
- Was he having any financial problems?
- We never discussed them.
Was anything troubling him?
Any enemies?
Not that I know of. I knew very
little about Paul's personal life.
Know what he was doing in Chicago?
He hired me to kill somebody.
Susan has been under terrible strain,
and that kind of inquiry won't help.
- Does Michel mean anything to you?
- No.
She was with him.
Tattoo on her right shoulder.
A tattoo?
I'm gonna miss Paul.
He was a very amusing man.
I appreciate your coming down here.
I wish I could help more.
It seems your people
don't know a great deal...
...apart from a lady with a tattoo.
- You find that amusing?
I need to see his personal papers:
Phone bills, credit cards,
address books.
I don't intend to prolong this tragedy.
I hope you understand.
- I understand.
- Goodbye, Mr. Jillette.
Now, you should understand me.
I don't drink mint juleps,
and I don't care...
...about you or your
batshit dead cousin.
I'm looking for the bastard
that gutted my partner.
And with or without your help,
I'll get him.
You've just made a very big mistake.
About you? About you?
You? No. Not about you.
The place your mother
warned you about!
Male and female shows on-stage.
Disgusting! You'll love this.
And you get in free right now.
Men and women.
They're all real,
homegrown, no soy.
See the grisly acts of passion
just as they happened.
See the basement where
Angeline buried her lovers.
I came here for the weekend, and
I met this local girl. Name's Michel.
Blond, blue-eyed, about 5'6."
She's got this terrific tattoo
right behind her right shoulder.
It's a blue parrot, and I wanna
get one just like it.
I think she said she got it
at your place.
You don't do parrots.
Know any place that does?
Thanks anyway.
- Freeze, motherfucker!
- Lieutenant Hall...
We're police.
Someone's been on my tail.
What'd he look like?
I didn't see him.
- You saw somebody you didn't see?
- You're a comedian.
No, you're the comedian.
This is my town. You check with me
before you piss in my streets.
Make house calls like you're somebody.
Deveneux filed a complaint.
- Bullshit.
- He's got a witness.
Fucking bullshit!
I'm not fucking around!
You cross me, and I'll grease a pole
that slides you into a tub of shit.
Somebody guts my partner, and you're
thinking nasty things about me.
I'm sorry about your partner.
But I want you out of here tomorrow.
Get him out of here.
Algiers?
Where's that?
You're on a plane
tomorrow morning, Jillette.
That's tomorrow.
Across the bridge.
Look, you go asking
questions in Algiers...
...they'll cut your tongue out
and throw it in the river.
Thanks.
Not really.
Anybody speak English here?
I'm looking for Cara Jones.
Do you know her?
Cara Jones.
A black girl.
Where is she?
Where is who?
Michel.
I don't know no Michel.
I