I talked to your sister Martin.

She told me that a policeman, namely Blanchard, came by the house asking questions about, you know, Elizabeth Short.

She told him that the two of you were close.

Martha was always jealous of me.

He was blackmailing your father.

No beautiful wall for messing up mess.

So on the night that he went to the Olympic to settle an old score, you tracked him there like a dog.

Yeah, I have a point.

My kind of a lot of people this week I haven't had a chance to show anybody yet.

What do you think?

I think you'd rather fuck me than killed me.

But you don't have the guts to do either.

You're a box, not a fighter.

You're a murderer of my partner.

A murderer of Leave Blanchard, You should thank me for Lee Blanchard.

If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have had the balls to fuck your partner's girl.

You don't talk about them.

Okay?

Wait, I've got you.

Don't fuck her anymore.

Because you'd rather fuck me.

You don't talk about that.

You chose me over.

You choose me over him.

He was going to take Daddy's money and leave.

Leave, all of you.

You never shoot me.

Don't forget who I look like because that girl God sad, dead pitch.

She's all you have.

Yeah, yeah.

No.

Yeah.