I think I better contact a lawyer.
- You may.
You have a lawyer?
My stepfather.
- What?
- Your stepfather turned you in.
My stepfather?
How did he know anything about this?
You know a Carmine Sabatini,
also known as Jimmy the Toucan.
"Toucan" I never heard.
My stepfather?
Do you know Hans Kurt Schlegel,
alias Larry London?
- We've met. I don't know him...
- These men are fiends, Mr. Kellogg.
It's up to you to stop
their unspeakable activities.
What are you talking about?
You ever heard mention
of the Gourmet Club?
No.
Sabatini and Schlegel established
the Gourmet Club operation in 1985.
It's a moveable feast.
Never the same location.
Dinner's every three to six months,
depending on the catch.
No prices.
The minimum price for eating
at this club is $200,000 per plate.
- For dinner?
- Not just dinner, Mr. Kellogg.
The entire menu consists
of endangered species.
- They cook these animals?
- They do, yes, sir.
For an international clientele
of degenerates, scum, Euro-trash.
People pay $200,000
to eat these animals?
Minimum.
The more endangered,
the higher the price.
If there are 5 or less in the world,
it goes up to half a million.
- To eat the very last of a species...
- A cool million.
The dragon will be about
$350,000 a plate.
Served off the bone,
with a cream basil sauce.
That's Schlegel's trademark.
If they fillet it...
Schlegel likes to fillet...
...they can get 60 servings
out of one dragon.
That's a $20 million haul.
Mr. Sabatini wouldn't do that.
Who do you think he is, Bishop Tutu?
- I don't believe he'd do that.
- I want Sabatini!
- Before they serve that poor animal.
- Tell us where and when.
You want me to be an informer.
Or spend two years in Leavenworth.
- You'd lock me up for two years?
- I sure would.
Unless you give us the old man.
I'll think about it.
There's freedom in being screwed.
You know things can't get any worse.
Clark, you can't just split.
What would you do?
I'd turn him in and hate myself.
You'd do that?
I don't know.
Is Clark Kellogg
in one of these rooms?
He's here. Come right in.
He's here.
Clark mentioned something,
but I had no idea the resemblance...
- This is Steve Bushak, my roommate.
- My pleasure.
Could you leave us alone for a moment?
I want to talk to my son-in-law.
I'd really like to stay.
I'll be quiet as a mouse.
If you'd just leave us alone,
I'd appreciate it.
I'll get shoes and be on my way.
Could you put those on outside?
I have some...
Outside? I always do that.
Sit down.
I want to ask you something.
- You followed me.
- Followed you?
Yeah. A little bit, this evening.
Clark, I know when somebody's
following me.
I left the club and you were around
on the street, in a doorway.
Someplace.
Because I feel these things, you know?
Is this true?
Yes.
- I had a lot on my mind.
- You don't have to explain.
Looks like you're ready for bed.
- Soon.
- Want me to read you a bedtime story?
Tina used to love
Curious George, the monkey.
Every night I told her
a different story.
Curious George goes here,
Curious George goes there.
She knew them all by heart.
My real father used to read me those.
Who was the guy who used to take care
of Curious George, his keeper?
You mean the man in the yellow hat?
The man with the yellow hat.
Is this your real dad?
That's me when I was 3.
I was 6 when he died.
Motorcycle accident.
What business was he in?
He was a poet. He taught English
at the Putney School.
You know any of his poems?
A few of them.
- Tell me one.
- One of his poems?
Just tell me a short one.
One I like is called
"A Doorway on Boylston Street."
In Boston.
It's been a while since I did it.
There's a certain doorway
On Boylston Street
That I passed by on foot
Suited and shod
One of many each Tuesday
Toward lunch with a certain woman
Regarded each Tuesday
By the perfect turning gaze
Of a white

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