Not even a speeding ticket

MCBRIDE
What are you thinking, Donahue?

DONAHUE
It's Davidson. Don't ask me how, but I know it's Davidson.

MCBRIDE
Oh enough, Donahue. There's no way it's Davidson. He's got too much to lose. He's a blueblood. And besides, he's a state Senator. Face it, this was a drug crime.

DONAHUE
Don't you think I know all that, McBride? I've just got a bad feeling about him. I don't buy his alibi for a second.

MCBRIDE
What's not to believe? He's a politician, not a criminal. He's got no record--not even a speeding ticket!

DAVIDSON, at home. He watches television in the dark. It is just past midnight.

A commercial for a phone sex line. DAVIDSON rests his left hand on his crotch, ever-so-gently.

DONAHUE
He had the motive--we know he had the motive.

MCBRIDE
You're talking out of your ass, Donahue.

DONAHUE
This woman was seen checking into a motel with him seven times in three weeks!

MCBRIDE
Someone who matches his description. You think there's not a scumbag out there somewhere who might fit the Senator's description?

Morning at DAVIDSON's house. He eats a peanut butter sandwich, staring at the wall in front of him. He is barely paying enough attention to keep the food in his mouth. A tear rolls down his cheek. He furrows his brow, noticing something amiss. He touches his cheek. He looks down at the tear on his fingers and contemplates it.

DONAHUE
He's got everything to lose, McBride. That's what you don't understand about the situation.

MCBRIDE
You've completely fabricated this motive.

DONAHUE
I have eyewitnesses, hotel receipts--

MCBRIDE
A couple of lowlifes who have probably never read a newspaper in their life, telling you they saw a state Senator check into a seedy motel with a no-name blond with ties to the drug trade.

DONAHUE
It's more than that, McBride!

MCBRIDE
Face it. Nothing we know about this guy says he's a murderer, or that he would get involved with a drug dealer's girl, or that he would be in this part of town for any reason in the first place.

DONAHUE
He did it.

MCBRIDE
He's not a criminal. No record! Not even a speeding ticket!

DAVIDSON at home. Hair disheveled, still wearing his bathrobe, he stumbles into his car. There is a suit laid out on the passenger seat, and he puts it on. He backs out of the garage. There is a rabbit sitting in the middle of the driveway. He opens his door, tiptoes out of the car and starts a bonfire in a garbage can at the top of the driveway. He sneaks up on the rabbit, picks it up, rushes over to the bonfire like a running back with a football and spikes the rabbit into the bonfire. He starts screaming wildly. He slams the lid on the garbage can and beats on the side of the can with a rock.

Hours later, he is tired. He is now only tapping on the side of the can. He lifts the lid. The fire has burnt itself out. He pulls out the blackened, leathery body of what was once a rabbit. He bites into it, letting the grease drip onto his dress shirt.

MCBRIDE
Arguing with you is exhausting. Want to get lunch?

DONAHUE
Nah. I'm gonna try to think this case over, try to connect Davidson to it somehow.

MCBRIDE
Don't wear yourself out. Maybe you can get him to confess when we bring him in for soliciting the services of a prostitute.

DONAHUE
Wha?

MCBRIDE
I'm kidding.

DONAHUE
Get the hell out of here, McBride.

DAVIDSON, driving to work. He comes to a stop sign. He slows down, sees that no one is on the road, and rolls through it. A COP suddenly appears and turns on his siren.

COP
Hello, Senator.

DAVIDSON
Officer.

COP
Did you see that stop sign there?

DAVIDSON
I thought I stopped.

COP
You kind of rolled through it. I'm gonna have to write you a ticket.

DAVIDSON
Is that really necessary? I mean--it won't happen again. I'm a state Senator, after all. I have no criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket.

COP
Well I'm a cop, and I don't have a speeding ticket either, but I still go home every night and beat the holy hell out of my wife. Around the stomach, so you can't see the bruises. I'm gonna have to write you this ticket.

DAVIDSON nods. He rests his left hand on his crotch, ever-so-gently.

COP
All right, Senator. You can--is that a severed foot in your backseat?

DAVIDSON turns into a ladybug.