"Sometimes you're better off dead." Scenes 14 and 15

Scene 14

(A bare, whitewashed chapel with simple Shaker pews, chairs, and pulpit. Most of Thrasherville’s more prominent citizens have crammed themselves inside to attend the funeral of the old blacksmith, Johnny Anderson. The town preacher, who looks suspiciously like Dam Kamal, is delivering some kind of farewell speech.)

REVEREND KAMAL

...and, you know, we’ll miss him. He ran an uptempo blacksmithing shop. It wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea, but he was a good blacksmith. I’ll always remember the time---

(camera pans to Ten Gallon Dick, Little Little, and Deputy Colby. They’re sitting next to Mayor Waddell.)

DEPUTY COLBY

(leaning over to whisper in Ten Gallon’s ear) What’s it looking like? What Anderson poisoned or did he just have a heart attack?

TEN GALLON

Ain’t no doubt he was poisoned. Now show some respect and listen to the Reverend.

MAYOR WADDELL

(leaning forward) Did you fellas say something about poisoning?

(Deputy Colby makes shushing gesture, the Mayor leans back into the pew. He looks distressed.)

REVEREND KAMAL

And that’s why Blacksmith Anderson is in a happier place. One with charbroiled hamburgers galore. He belongs to the Lord now.

LITTLE LITTLE

The Lord of hamburgers?

(Deputy Colby elbows Little Little. Whitey the Accountant throws himself on the flower-decked coffin and starts screaming “Why? WHY?!!” Ten Gallon rises from the pew and pulls him back.)

(cut to the townsfolk exiting the church. Ten Gallon finds Detective Afinogenov.)

TEN GALLON

Detective Finner. Let’s take a walk. (they break with the crowd and set off down the main street of Thrasherville.) What ya got?

MAXIM

Managed to squeeze in a final look this morning. The nature of the fatal drink is still a bit...obscure.

TEN GALLON

Poison?

MAXIM

He did indeed perish of poison, but what kind? How did it find its way into the drinks he normally imbibes?

TEN GALLON

Any chance it was a suicide, you think?

MAXIM

I highly doubt it. I was there when he died, remember. He went down cursing the very name of Thrasherville, and he looked genuinely surprised to find himself poisoned. No, John Anderson, blacksmith to all Thrasherville, is not a suicide. He is rather a murderee.

TEN GALLON

Murderee?

MAXIM

Anderson was the murderee. It’s up to your department to find the murderer.

TEN GALLON

Surely you’ll help us out, now.

MAXIM

(stops walking, keeps hands folded behind his back, stares hard at the Sheriff.) Sheriff Peverley, I came to this city to work under the illustrious Sheriff Kovalchuk. I have to admit that his departure is still a bit...disorienting.

TEN GALLON

It is. But we got a serious damn murder case on our hands now, and I for one intend to solve it. Does it really matter if Sheriff Kovalchuk is around or not? Thrasherville police need you, Finner. I don’t trust that Mayor Waddell, and Lord knows the Committee is hardly interested in much of anything that goes on round here.

MAXIM

Everything you say is true. That’s why I want to help you solve this case.

TEN GALLON

Excellent. I reckon we’ll have to find you a badge. Your trial period’s over, Mr. Fins!

MAXIM

Happy to be on the force.

(they resume walking. They’re nearly on the very edge of town now. They press on along the desert highway, cacti and joshua trees rolling before them, red mountains on the horizon.)

TEN GALLON

Now, I reckon that if someone wants to bump off Blacksmith Anderson, they’re gonna wanna bump off some other folks too. Do you think this is isolated or part of some great big ol’ prairie dog of a conspiracy? I s’pose I’m askin’ if there’s more to come.

MAXIM

It’s very hard to say at this point. As a precaution I’d keep the Mayor in a safe place, or tell him to get out of the town for a while.

TEN GALLON

Get out of town.

MAXIM

What?

TEN GALLON

Over here we say “get out of town,” not “get out of the town.”

MAXIM

Ah.

TEN GALLON

Lord knows I wouldn’t be good with the colloquialisms in Russia!

MAXIM

A very beautiful and flexible language, the language of Pushkin and Turgenev. At any rate, Sheriff, perhaps we should turn around and go have a look at Anderson’s blacksmith shop.

TEN GALLON

Reckon we should.

(they turn around and head back towards town.)

Scene 15

(Slava Lazy Eyes’s ranch outside town. Kozlov is in his wine vineyard, looking at a grape through a monocular telescope. Nik Antropov, on horseback, and Misha, on foot, appear. Without looking away from his detailed grape examination, Slava begins to speak.)

SLAVA LAZY EYES

Was it a good service?

NIK

I suppose so. I liked the preacher...what’s his name, Kamal?

SLAVA LAZY EYES

Yes.

NIK

Did you know the blacksmith?

SLAVA LAZY EYES

Of course I did. Small town. (he moves on to another grape)

NIK

Would it be rude to ask why you didn’t go to the service?

SLAVA LAZY EYES

(still examining this grape) Never did care for the man.

NIK

Ah, I see. (Nik and Misha exchange quizzical looks. This Kozlov fellow is unusually forthright.)

SLAVA LAZY EYES

And you actually saw the poor man’s demise?

NIK

Afraid I did. It looks like he was murdered. Poisoned.

(Slava Lazy Eyes lowers the monocular telescope and the grape. He looks directly into Nik’s eyes.)

SLAVA LAZY EYES

You don’t say.

NIK

Well...the new detective in town, Mr. Afinogenov, he thinks so. The Sheriff Peverley seems to agree.

SLAVA LAZY EYES

Is it impossible that he just...choked on something, maybe?

NIK

Don’t think so. Afinogenov did an autopsy. He was definitely poisoned, he says.

SLAVA LAZY EYES

And you...trust these policemen?

NIK

(growing uneasy) Well, yes.

(Slava continues to stare at Nik out of one of his eyes. This goes on an uncomfortably long time before Slava breaks the silence.)

SLAVA LAZY EYES

Good! You should. They seem like honest men.

(Misha takes a few steps back)

NIK

So, what kind of cow railroad work needs to be done this afternoon?

SLAVA LAZY EYES

(pointing to some cattle in a pen behind his house) These cows will need some help with their ironwork.

NIK

Of course. Say, did you ever consider using Anderson for some blacksmithing work on your grand project?

SLAVA LAZY EYES

Please, Mr. Antropov, no more talk of Mr. Anderson around here.

NIK

(rolling himself a cigarette, and another one for the coyote, and nodding) Of course. (A wary look in his eyes that seems to say, “Remember to tell Afinogenov about this.”)

SLAVA LAZY EYES

(walking deep into his desert vineyard, muttering to himself) Sometimes you’re better off dead.