The Interview

Amara Cook, right? My name’s Timothy Blake. I’m a civilian consultant with the FBI.

I’m guessing you already bought your ticket home, right? Today, or maybe tomorrow? Two hours on a plane to LAX, an hour layover at the airport, thirteen hour flight to Sydney. That’s a lot of time to think. To reconsider. To feel guilty, maybe.

(taking a bite of a “ham” sandwich)

It wasn’t that hard to find you, you know. Certain things were missing from your home–things you wouldn’t take for a short trip. Your car was at an abandoned lot in Cloverleaf. There was a receipt in it for a gas station near Huntsville.
My partner, Agent Thistle, she says that people tend to do the right thing, if you give them the chance. My experience is that self-preservation overrides anything resembling a conscience. What do you think?

(pulling out a photo)

This is Georgina Pavich. 39 years old, registered nurse, divorced. Three kids. She liked opera. Always dragging friends to concerts.

(pulling out another photo)

This is Kenneth Allen. 44. Managed a power plant near Chicago before he came here to work for Texaco. Never married, but he has one son, age three. You know you don’t get to keep any of your memories before age five as an adult? Soon that kid won’t remember his dad at all.

(another photo)

This is Monica Weinberg. Seventeen years old. She was gonna go to Braithwaite next year to study engineering. She had a swimming scholarship. I didn’t know those existed. I thought it was just football. The world is full of surprises.

I want you to understand what kind of man you’re protecting.

You told the cops that Craig didn’t do it. They’re pretty sure he did. And I KNOW he did. I’ve been in his house. Seen what he keeps under that loose floorboard in his closet.

But the cops believed that YOU believed you were telling the truth. So they let you go. I think they’re wrong. I think you were there when Pavich died. I think you helped Craig get rid of Allen. And I think you know where he’s keeping Monica Weinberg.

If you’re secretly hoping he’s gonna get caught some other way, he’s not. He’s too good at this. Did he tell you Pavich was his first? He lied. Maybe he promised Monica would be the last. She won’t. The only way he stops is if you stop him.
Tell me where Monica Pavich is. It might not be too late to save her. And the one who comes after her. And the one after that.

(a beat)

No? Well. I can’t say I’m surprised. But I promised Thistle I’d try it her way, before I tried mine.

Craig doesn’t know you’re leaving the country, does he? You told him you were just visiting your aunt in Galveston. By the time he realises you’re running, you’ll be out of his reach. It’s not like he’s allowed to leave the country.

But I lied before. I wasn’t guessing. I KNOW you bought your ticket home. I know which flight you’re supposed to be on. I know what time you gotta be at the airport. I have your whole itinerary right here, on my phone.

If Craig O’Brien saw this, think how mad he’d be. He’d drop everything and come get you. He might kill you right in front of the security guards. Then we could finally arrest him. Works for me.

Then again, maybe he’d catch you before you even got to the airport. Think how easily I found you – and I don’t even know you. Then, away from prying eyes, he could take his time. Think what he did to the others – and they hadn’t made him mad.

I know he’s keeping her somewhere. Just write the address on this here bit of paper. That’s all you need to do. I’ll won’t tell the feds where I got it. They’re used to me knowing things I’m not supposed to. They’ll find Monica, plus enough evidence to put Craig away for a long, long time.

Good girl.

(takes a picture of the paper, sends it to Reese)

One more question. I–hang on.

(pulls out the phone again, checks a text)

Shit. Thistle just pulled Monica Weinberg out of the water at Galveston bay.

(a beat)

Well, we got Craig, at least, if the address is legit. Pity we didn’t get him a few hours earlier.

Enjoy that thirteen-hour flight home.