Trust (2018) s01e06 Episode Script
John, Chapter 11
1 [FIRE CRACKLING.]
[BIRDS SINGING.]
[DOG BARKING.]
[CLEARS THROAT.]
Ma'am? How do I look? Ma'am? [PANTING.]
Gail.
Fire.
The top half of the body is unrecognizable.
[PAUL III LAUGHS.]
[RINGING.]
Does Tussauds have a waxwork of Cicero? Uh, who, sir? Cicero.
Roman philosopher, politician, orator.
Um, maybe in storage.
Virgil? From Thunderbirds? From the Aeneid.
GAVIN: Don't think so.
Oh, Paul McCartney.
Still very popular.
Although entre nous, Linda has been vandalized twice with a lighter.
Still a lot of bad feeling about Yoko Ono.
Hadrian? Not that I know of.
Well, you should.
A much misunderstood emperor.
I am his reincarnation.
Super.
Before you dismiss that comment as the foolish meanderings of an old man, ask yourself: who's the billionaire in the room? Oh.
Point taken.
[PHONE RINGING.]
PENELOPE: Won't anyone answer that bloody phone? Ah, Chace.
Yes, hello.
Christ.
Are you sure? Oh, yes, Gail.
God, poor Gail.
[FAX MACHINE BEEPS.]
I said I was not to be disturbed.
It's Little Paul.
I told you I do not wish to discuss the boy.
I don't care what you wish.
You.
Get this thing off my head and get out of here.
PENELOPE: That poor boy.
That lovely, lovely boy.
No.
This-this can't be.
You refuse to negotiate.
Then you offer some paltry sum and you're-you're surprised by the outcome? But why would they do this? Th-This is not how you negotiate.
For God's sake, stop saying that.
These are people you're dealing with, human beings, not just barrels of oil.
I understand that, of course.
But it was a business deal.
That is exactly what it was.
Money in exchange for the boy.
- Cash in, product out.
- Yes.
No.
It was Paul.
It was Little Paul, your grandson, your-your flesh and blood, for the love of God.
Somebody just murdered him and [CRYING.]
: set fire to his body because of you and your business deal.
The fact that you can't see that, Paul, is heartbreaking to me.
Oh, my God.
[DOOR OPENS, SHUTS.]
Paul.
He gave this to the old man.
It's from Italy.
We were all visiting some temple, Hadrian's Villa.
Came toddling out holding it up as proud as anything.
He worshipped Talitha and she worshipped him.
She never could control him, Gail.
No idea how to be a mother.
None.
Too busy partying.
He should've been here with me.
And Talitha.
Now I've lost them both.
I mean, what-what the fuck was he thinking? Huh? Offering 600 fucking dollars for the life of a little boy? I mean, we all knew he was the meanest man on the planet, but this God.
Where are you going? Paul, please don't.
My-my sister I mean, she-she would've been my sister if she'd lived.
Typhoid fever.
Two years before I was born.
I couldn't compare.
I mean, you can't, can you? Try as you might.
Paul, do [SNIFFLES.]
Ah My mother never got over it.
I was scant replacement for her little baby girl.
He had a way with him, young Paul.
Fearless.
That was me, when I was his age.
Fearless.
[SNIFFLES.]
He made me laugh.
[CRYING.]
No one does that.
[EXHALES.]
[MOANS.]
Papers.
I'm so sorry, Paul.
I'm so sorry.
[PAUL MOANS.]
CHACE: Ma'am, where are your children, right now? Sorry? Aileen, Mark.
Little Ariadne.
Where are they? Oh.
La Fuserna.
With my friend.
Now, I beg your pardon, but I reckon it would be best if they heard the news from you.
Yes, I'm sure you're right.
But not today.
Of course.
Sure.
I can't right now.
Never have favorites.
That's the number one rule of parenting.
But he was our first.
And he looked like such an angel.
All that curly red hair.
I tried not to.
I was extra strict with him to make sure he wasn't, but all he had to do was smile.
[EXHALES.]
How could he not be favorite? No.
The number one rule of parenting is to keep your child alive.
The wanderer returns.
- [EXHALES.]
- Hello, stranger.
It's bad things, Pauline, terrible things.
Will you help me? Please.
Come on, honey.
Pauline's gonna sort you out.
[ROCK MUSIC PLAYING.]
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Take a minute, sweetheart.
Why not tell Pauline all about it? I-I c-can't I can't.
I can't.
Just Please.
PAULINE: A small one, all right? Doctor's orders.
You've been off it for ages.
Whatever.
Just, please, do it.
[MUSIC, SOUNDS ECHOING, DISTORTING.]
BULLIMORE: The young man had the most engaging smile.
Ancestors walked on the land He asked my advice.
The rest of them only notice when I'm not there.
Oh, I'm I'm sure that's not the case.
No, it is.
I've spent 22 years in service to a family who don't even know my name.
He calls them all "Bullimore.
" His butlers.
No matter who they really are.
And who are you, really? If you don't mind me asking? My name is Khan.
And what about your first name? In the evening Jahangir.
What, like the cricketer? You know? Of course I bloody know.
1936, a-a cloudless sky at Lords, Tom Pearce, England opener, facing.
Jahangir Khan coming in from the pavilion end [DENNIS EXHALES.]
he bowls a ball, hits a sparrow in midair.
The sparrow spirals down into the hallowed turf, - stone dead.
- [CHUCKLING.]
Now, that's a ball, old son, that's a ruddy ball.
Do you, uh, bowl? Have enough I was what they call a wet bob.
Oh, you're an Eton man.
For a short while.
I'm something of a disappointment to the family.
Man you once knew Black sheep.
Ah, well.
You told me that Join the flock, there, Jahangir.
Join the flock.
[GRUNTS.]
[MOANS, INHALES SHARPLY.]
Okay.
It's time to party.
PAUL JR.
: Come on! VICTORIA: Paul? PAUL JR.
: Look what I found! Come on! Come on, come on, come on! See the morning dancer crossing the sky Turning gold to amber traveling by He must know the answer, he must know why Looking for an answer, look to the sky - [LAUGHS.]
- [WHOOPS.]
Shadows getting shorter, filling your sight - Ooh.
- Oh, God.
You were always the most gorgeous woman in the room.
You know that, don't you? I would have had to be made of stone not to fall for you.
Dawning into morning, day into night He's so much nicer when he's off his head.
[LAUGHS.]
It's not funny.
It's true.
PAUL JR.
: He's a murderer.
That's what he is.
He is a fucking murderer.
Okay.
Look.
Here's a little bit of, uh, family folklore for you.
So he had this little kid.
Um, what's-his-name, uh, my half brother Timmy.
Timmy.
And Timmy had a disease, other than being born a Getty.
[CHUCKLES.]
Some, uh, congenital heart thing.
He's dying, okay? He's actually dying.
And he writes to the old man, who's in Europe, you know, screwing his way through a succession of women, making enough money to fill swimming pools, "Daddy, I'm dying.
"Please come home.
I want to see you again before I die.
" What do you think the old man does? Sends him a letter.
"Sorry, Timmy, unable to travel.
Your loving father.
" I mean, can you believe that? And he dies.
Timmy dies without actually seeing his father again.
And does the loving father attend his own son's funeral? What do you think, friends? Unable to fucking travel.
And what about George? Huh? Drove him into an early grave, that is for goddamn sure.
But this.
This time he has gone too far.
This is actual murder.
What I am gonna do for him, I am gonna go up there, and I am gonna tell him what we all actually think, and the truth will destroy him.
It will completely destroy him.
Okay, maybe not that much nicer.
["COME PRIMA" BY TONY DALLARA PLAYING.]
[MAN SINGING IN ITALIAN.]
[CHILDREN SHOUTING.]
- JEFFRIES: Take that thing off.
- Come on.
PAUL III: Hey, squirt it over this way.
Hey.
Take that thing off.
PAUL III: Oh, what, you don't like it? Too long for me, right? What are you, a faggot? Go get some pants on, now.
- Why? - Because I said so.
Who are you? I mean, you're not my dad.
- Paul - JEFFRIES: Hey.
Do what I told you.
- Or what? - [SCOFFS.]
[GAIL GASPS, PAUL III GRUNTS.]
[LAUGHS.]
GAIL: Paul [SHOUTS.]
PAUL III: Ah, fuck.
[PAUL III GROANS.]
- Get off.
- Let me see.
Go see your boyfriend.
Oh.
[QUIETLY.]
: He never ties his laces.
If he wears shoes at all.
Paul, he never ties his laces.
See? The showdowns we've had about it, the times that he's tripped over his own shoes.
It's a family joke, him and those damn laces.
I'm coming.
- No, Chace.
- Hmm? Please.
Go back to your hotel.
What? I have instructions to stay with you at all times.
I'm sorry, ma'am, there could be anybody out there.
There could be paparazzi out there If I need you, I'll call you.
It might not I just need to do something on my own.
A-All right.
At least let me check it out first, ma'am.
[QUIETLY.]
: Damn.
[MUMBLES.]
[CRYING QUIETLY.]
[CRYING QUIETLY.]
[INDISTINCT MURMURING.]
They are your son's, yes? Yes.
Can I look at the body again, please? - I don't think it's a good - It is my right.
Show me.
- No, no, signora - I will.
Poor boy.
[REPORTERS CLAMORING.]
Mrs.
Getty! Mrs.
Getty! [CAMERA SHUTTERS CLICKING.]
[CLAMORING CONTINUES.]
[DRIVER SPEAKING ITALIAN.]
[BANGING ON DOOR.]
I'm not going away! - Stop, okay? - I want to see him.
Fifty.
- Closed.
- Fifty! Fifty! Fif Get your hands off of me! I will stay until he comes.
If he doesn't come, I will go to the police and tell 'em about this place.
And you.
["SETTEMBRE" BY PEPPINO GAGLIARDI PLAYING.]
Hello? If I make you smile, will you buy me a drink? Kind of.
[LAUGHS.]
Un Negroni, per favore.
- Certo.
- Due.
[DOOR OPENS.]
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Signora.
I can still taste the burned flesh in my throat.
It's disgusting.
How could you do that? I am sorry.
How dare you? How fucking dare you? Do you have any idea what it feels like to think that your son's been burned to death?! Do you? Is it your idea of a joke, you despicable shit of a man? Well, it's not funny.
Not to me.
Because I know.
I know it's not him.
That poor burned boy is not my son.
So you go back to your cowardly little capo, your little boss man, and you tell him to stop whatever game he's playing.
[QUIETLY.]
: That boy was somebody's son.
You animals.
[SNIFFS.]
- PAUL III: Rosario! - ANGELO: Rosaria! - Rosaria! - Rosaria! [DOOR OPENS.]
That's all, folks.
Hey, wait, wait, wait, wait! - LEONARDO: No! - No, no.
No.
[SPEAKING ITALIAN.]
Primo.
Mama! Mom! [PANTING.]
He's alive.
[MUSIC PLAYING IN BACKGROUND.]
John, chapter 11.
- What? - Lazarus: I am the resurrection.
He that believeth in me, though he be dead, so he shall live.
Hallelujah! - SOPHIA: Hi.
- Um there's a slight change of plans, miss.
We need to make our way - to the door now.
- Really? I find myself on company time.
If we could have a bit of privacy here.
Vaffanculo.
I do speak that much French.
Talk to me.
ROBINA [IN DISTANCE.]
: Paul! Paul! - What? - Paul? Oh, God.
Paul! He's alive! Paul! - [IN DISTANCE.]
: Paul! - Oh, but I can't be.
I'm too old.
According to these results, you are.
Paul! [WHISPERS.]
: No, but I can't.
- He won't let me.
- I'm sure it's not as simple as that.
[SHUDDERS.]
: It is.
You don't know him.
I need to get rid of it.
Am I correct in thinking you don't have any children? Yes No Correct At your age, there's a good chance this might well be your last chance to conceive.
[CHUCKLES.]
: Well, I should bloody well think so.
Perhaps you should take a few days to consider before you take any irreversible steps.
Perhaps you should talk to Mr.
Getty, decide together.
Mm.
["PUTTIN' ON THE RITZ" BY FRED ASTAIRE PLAYING.]
Have you seen the well-to-do Up and down Park Avenue On that famous thoroughfare With their noses in the air High hats And narrow collars White spats And lots of dollars Spending every dime For a wonderful time Now, if you're blue and you don't know Where to go to, why don't you go Where fashion sits Puttin' on the Ritz Different types who wear a day coat Ah.
- Dance? - You got lucky.
Oh, Pen, really.
Time for a smile, no? You could have been wrong.
You should have been wrong.
But I wasn't wrong.
- Was I, Von Block? - Absolutely.
Bang on, Paul.
I've got it all down for the chapter on business negotiations.
You're such a bastard.
A bastard who is right.
Bullimore! I might buy the Ritz.
What do you think? Guaranteed a good tea.
Oh, splendid man.
What would I do without you? - Thank you, sir.
- Do you fish? [CHUCKLES.]
: Oh, yes, of course you fish.
Take the day off.
Go fishing.
Thank you, sir.
But before you leave, pack me a bag.
I'm going on a little trip.
Yes, sir.
Where are you going? Rome.
I've had quite enough of this nonsense.
Want to come with me? For the weekend.
- Visit the sites.
- No, thank you.
I'm afraid I've made other plans this weekend.
Other plans? PENELOPE: Safe journey, though.
Tips his hat just like an English chappie To a lady with a wealthy pappy Very snappy You'll you're blue and you don't know Where to go to, why don't you go Where fashion sits Puttin' on the Ritz Different types who wear a day coat Pants with stripes and cutaway coats Perfect fits Puttin' on the Ritz.
[LIQUID DRIPPING.]
Here.
You must put this behind you.
Eat.
I didn't know.
I didn't know.
What did you think would happen to him, hmm? We take his pocket money away? You killed him.
No.
No, I didn't.
I-I didn't shoot him.
This is not Rome.
We have nothing here, and you promised him something.
Whether you held the gun or not, you killed him and the old man, too.
Grow up, cazzo.
Take responsibility! You are lucky to be alive.
So stay alive.
Eat, cazzo! Okay.
- [BANGING ON DOOR.]
- PAUL JR.
: Hey! - Happy day, madam.
- Open up! - Yes, it is.
- [POUNDING ON DOOR.]
- Good day, sir.
- Fuck off, Bullimore.
Where is the old bastard, huh? Where is he? PAUL: I assume you're referring to me.
You have been drinking.
I have.
And, no doubt, been taking drugs.
[SCOFFS.]
Correct again.
Well, there's no flies on the old man, Bullimore.
He can spot a loser when he sees one.
He's an expert.
It's the spécialité de la maison.
Is there a purpose to this visit? My purpose is to deliver my congratulations to you in person, pater bravo.
You have moved on from killing your sons with your own particular brand of sadism to killing your grandsons.
Bravo.
- But I haven't.
- No.
No, no.
No, of course not.
It's nothing to do with you.
It's not your idea to sit on your hands doing fuck-all for weeks.
Not your idea to offer the princely sum of $600 for the life of Paul, your grandson! My beautiful baby boy.
You fuckin' murderer! You might as well have put your hands around his throat and throttled him dead! Except he isn't.
Dead I mean.
I-I don't understand.
PAUL: Evidently.
Well, but Alive and well.
[CLEARS THROAT.]
Well, I-I thought Do you have anything to add? Show him out, Bullimore.
Call out the instigators - Because there's something - [KNOCK ON DOOR.]
In the air How very nice to see you, Jahangir.
Happy Sunday.
A most extraordinary thing.
Two things.
The boy, Paul? It wasn't him on the beach.
The boy's alive.
Is he? Wonderful.
But even more extraordinary, I have the day off.
Marvelous.
Pull up a pew.
- We're having gin fizz.
- Are we? SUSIE: We most certainly are.
None of your cheap muck.
I got the good stuff.
Jahangir, Aunt Susie.
I've been wondering when I was going to meet you.
Darling, let's adjourn somewhere more convivial.
Park me in that bloody thing and I'll never get out.
["CHEEK TO CHEEK" PLAYING.]
Heaven I'm in heaven And my heart beats so That I can hardly speak PAUL: What? I love this one.
And I seem to find.
Do you have a minute to talk? I have to go to work.
It won't take a moment.
Isn't the news about Paul wonderful? Miraculous, somehow.
Actually, I've got some other news.
I don't know how it happened.
Well, obviously I do.
Paul, I'm I'm pregnant.
[LAUGHS.]
I'm sorry.
Mackenzie will sort you out.
Well, um, yes, but I You're in breach of contract.
I'm aware of that, but I just thought we might perhaps Maybe we could renegotiate.
I have never renegotiated in my entire life.
- But this is your child, Paul.
- It'd better be.
Maybe another son.
Another son.
What on earth makes you think I would want another son, dear lady? If you think my sons have done anything other than disappoint me, then you clearly have not been paying attention.
No, get rid of it or go.
The choice is yours.
Hey, rainmaker, come away from that man You know he's gonna SUSIE: More fuel.
We need more fuel.
Oh.
Oh, thank you.
Isn't this fun? We should live like this all the time.
Well, why not? Come and stay at my place.
Set yourself up with that market garden you're always talking about.
Tell him, Jahangir.
I didn't know about the market garden.
- Oh, well, you know.
- SUSIE: Come as well.
What, and leave here? Why not? It's a terrible place.
He'd make a fantastic front-of-house man.
He would.
You would.
- Really? - Absolutely.
Red bedroom's spare.
I'll buy you two a comfy new mattress for that bed the diplomat died in.
What do you say, Jahangir? You're a man, he's a man I'm sorry, I I really must be getting back.
Hey, rainmaker, he got golden plans I tell you, he make you a stranger She means well.
She's just tactless.
Come on.
Come back in please.
I'm afraid it's impossible.
Oi.
[GRUNTS.]
[SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
Hmm.
Nice piece.
I used one just like that in Vietnam.
[SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
- I'm-I'm not holding.
- Hmm? I don't have a - Show me.
- Oh, that? Oh, there's nothing to show, really, it's just a a radio.
A radio.
That's all.
Yeah, that's all.
Click, click.
Click.
Click.
That's about the slow and skinny of it.
[HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRRING.]
[HELICOPTER APPROACHING.]
We used those in Vietnam, too.
No.
Si.
Right.
[BOTH LAUGH.]
Esatto.
[SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
Let's sit.
Oh, that's that's mighty civil of you.
- [EXHALES.]
- [SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
That's good.
May I ask a question? Uh, yeah.
I don't guarantee an answer, but shoot.
[SIGHS.]
Mr.
Getty, why doesn't he pay? Why? That's a fair question.
$17 million, uh, is nothing for him.
Less than nothing.
The rich are not like us.
They're different.
I mean, you put the same water in and they piss the same water out, but they are different.
They play a different game.
In 1969 the Los Angeles Rams beat the Cowboys in the regular season.
["CISSY STRUT" BY THE METERS PLAYING.]
I was on the Ho Chà Minh trail.
We get ambushed.
We called in for a couple birds.
Now, had two locals with us.
One was a tracker and the other was a translator.
And they're late to the evac site.
We've already dusted off.
They jump.
And they hang on to the treads.
Then we're airborne.
The bird starts doing one of these.
[WHOOSHES.]
I mean, the gooks are just shooting the shit out of us.
Door gunner is a sergeant, big fella.
Know what he does? [GRUNTS.]
On their hands.
[GRUNTING.]
When a Texas Ranger does that, you tend to let go.
They went down.
We went up.
[CHUCKLES.]
He didn't say a word about it.
He just goes back to work.
[GUNSHOTS.]
We fly home without incident.
Thank you very much.
So when I think about the rich, I think about that.
[CHUCKLES.]
Yes.
Mr.
Getty [BOTH LAUGH.]
Mr.
Getty.
["CITTÃ VUOTA" BY MINA PLAYING.]
[WOMAN SINGING IN ITALIAN.]
He's alive.
- Mom! - Paul's alive! He's alive! He's okay.
Paul he's okay.
Shall I get those funds together for you now, sir? Hmm? The ransom? Oh.
Get hold of Paul.
Right away.
Y-Your son, Paul, sir? Who else would I be talking about? [SIGHS.]
Yes.
I did the difficult bit.
All he has to do is pay.
[BIRDS SINGING.]
[DOG BARKING.]
[CLEARS THROAT.]
Ma'am? How do I look? Ma'am? [PANTING.]
Gail.
Fire.
The top half of the body is unrecognizable.
[PAUL III LAUGHS.]
[RINGING.]
Does Tussauds have a waxwork of Cicero? Uh, who, sir? Cicero.
Roman philosopher, politician, orator.
Um, maybe in storage.
Virgil? From Thunderbirds? From the Aeneid.
GAVIN: Don't think so.
Oh, Paul McCartney.
Still very popular.
Although entre nous, Linda has been vandalized twice with a lighter.
Still a lot of bad feeling about Yoko Ono.
Hadrian? Not that I know of.
Well, you should.
A much misunderstood emperor.
I am his reincarnation.
Super.
Before you dismiss that comment as the foolish meanderings of an old man, ask yourself: who's the billionaire in the room? Oh.
Point taken.
[PHONE RINGING.]
PENELOPE: Won't anyone answer that bloody phone? Ah, Chace.
Yes, hello.
Christ.
Are you sure? Oh, yes, Gail.
God, poor Gail.
[FAX MACHINE BEEPS.]
I said I was not to be disturbed.
It's Little Paul.
I told you I do not wish to discuss the boy.
I don't care what you wish.
You.
Get this thing off my head and get out of here.
PENELOPE: That poor boy.
That lovely, lovely boy.
No.
This-this can't be.
You refuse to negotiate.
Then you offer some paltry sum and you're-you're surprised by the outcome? But why would they do this? Th-This is not how you negotiate.
For God's sake, stop saying that.
These are people you're dealing with, human beings, not just barrels of oil.
I understand that, of course.
But it was a business deal.
That is exactly what it was.
Money in exchange for the boy.
- Cash in, product out.
- Yes.
No.
It was Paul.
It was Little Paul, your grandson, your-your flesh and blood, for the love of God.
Somebody just murdered him and [CRYING.]
: set fire to his body because of you and your business deal.
The fact that you can't see that, Paul, is heartbreaking to me.
Oh, my God.
[DOOR OPENS, SHUTS.]
Paul.
He gave this to the old man.
It's from Italy.
We were all visiting some temple, Hadrian's Villa.
Came toddling out holding it up as proud as anything.
He worshipped Talitha and she worshipped him.
She never could control him, Gail.
No idea how to be a mother.
None.
Too busy partying.
He should've been here with me.
And Talitha.
Now I've lost them both.
I mean, what-what the fuck was he thinking? Huh? Offering 600 fucking dollars for the life of a little boy? I mean, we all knew he was the meanest man on the planet, but this God.
Where are you going? Paul, please don't.
My-my sister I mean, she-she would've been my sister if she'd lived.
Typhoid fever.
Two years before I was born.
I couldn't compare.
I mean, you can't, can you? Try as you might.
Paul, do [SNIFFLES.]
Ah My mother never got over it.
I was scant replacement for her little baby girl.
He had a way with him, young Paul.
Fearless.
That was me, when I was his age.
Fearless.
[SNIFFLES.]
He made me laugh.
[CRYING.]
No one does that.
[EXHALES.]
[MOANS.]
Papers.
I'm so sorry, Paul.
I'm so sorry.
[PAUL MOANS.]
CHACE: Ma'am, where are your children, right now? Sorry? Aileen, Mark.
Little Ariadne.
Where are they? Oh.
La Fuserna.
With my friend.
Now, I beg your pardon, but I reckon it would be best if they heard the news from you.
Yes, I'm sure you're right.
But not today.
Of course.
Sure.
I can't right now.
Never have favorites.
That's the number one rule of parenting.
But he was our first.
And he looked like such an angel.
All that curly red hair.
I tried not to.
I was extra strict with him to make sure he wasn't, but all he had to do was smile.
[EXHALES.]
How could he not be favorite? No.
The number one rule of parenting is to keep your child alive.
The wanderer returns.
- [EXHALES.]
- Hello, stranger.
It's bad things, Pauline, terrible things.
Will you help me? Please.
Come on, honey.
Pauline's gonna sort you out.
[ROCK MUSIC PLAYING.]
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Take a minute, sweetheart.
Why not tell Pauline all about it? I-I c-can't I can't.
I can't.
Just Please.
PAULINE: A small one, all right? Doctor's orders.
You've been off it for ages.
Whatever.
Just, please, do it.
[MUSIC, SOUNDS ECHOING, DISTORTING.]
BULLIMORE: The young man had the most engaging smile.
Ancestors walked on the land He asked my advice.
The rest of them only notice when I'm not there.
Oh, I'm I'm sure that's not the case.
No, it is.
I've spent 22 years in service to a family who don't even know my name.
He calls them all "Bullimore.
" His butlers.
No matter who they really are.
And who are you, really? If you don't mind me asking? My name is Khan.
And what about your first name? In the evening Jahangir.
What, like the cricketer? You know? Of course I bloody know.
1936, a-a cloudless sky at Lords, Tom Pearce, England opener, facing.
Jahangir Khan coming in from the pavilion end [DENNIS EXHALES.]
he bowls a ball, hits a sparrow in midair.
The sparrow spirals down into the hallowed turf, - stone dead.
- [CHUCKLING.]
Now, that's a ball, old son, that's a ruddy ball.
Do you, uh, bowl? Have enough I was what they call a wet bob.
Oh, you're an Eton man.
For a short while.
I'm something of a disappointment to the family.
Man you once knew Black sheep.
Ah, well.
You told me that Join the flock, there, Jahangir.
Join the flock.
[GRUNTS.]
[MOANS, INHALES SHARPLY.]
Okay.
It's time to party.
PAUL JR.
: Come on! VICTORIA: Paul? PAUL JR.
: Look what I found! Come on! Come on, come on, come on! See the morning dancer crossing the sky Turning gold to amber traveling by He must know the answer, he must know why Looking for an answer, look to the sky - [LAUGHS.]
- [WHOOPS.]
Shadows getting shorter, filling your sight - Ooh.
- Oh, God.
You were always the most gorgeous woman in the room.
You know that, don't you? I would have had to be made of stone not to fall for you.
Dawning into morning, day into night He's so much nicer when he's off his head.
[LAUGHS.]
It's not funny.
It's true.
PAUL JR.
: He's a murderer.
That's what he is.
He is a fucking murderer.
Okay.
Look.
Here's a little bit of, uh, family folklore for you.
So he had this little kid.
Um, what's-his-name, uh, my half brother Timmy.
Timmy.
And Timmy had a disease, other than being born a Getty.
[CHUCKLES.]
Some, uh, congenital heart thing.
He's dying, okay? He's actually dying.
And he writes to the old man, who's in Europe, you know, screwing his way through a succession of women, making enough money to fill swimming pools, "Daddy, I'm dying.
"Please come home.
I want to see you again before I die.
" What do you think the old man does? Sends him a letter.
"Sorry, Timmy, unable to travel.
Your loving father.
" I mean, can you believe that? And he dies.
Timmy dies without actually seeing his father again.
And does the loving father attend his own son's funeral? What do you think, friends? Unable to fucking travel.
And what about George? Huh? Drove him into an early grave, that is for goddamn sure.
But this.
This time he has gone too far.
This is actual murder.
What I am gonna do for him, I am gonna go up there, and I am gonna tell him what we all actually think, and the truth will destroy him.
It will completely destroy him.
Okay, maybe not that much nicer.
["COME PRIMA" BY TONY DALLARA PLAYING.]
[MAN SINGING IN ITALIAN.]
[CHILDREN SHOUTING.]
- JEFFRIES: Take that thing off.
- Come on.
PAUL III: Hey, squirt it over this way.
Hey.
Take that thing off.
PAUL III: Oh, what, you don't like it? Too long for me, right? What are you, a faggot? Go get some pants on, now.
- Why? - Because I said so.
Who are you? I mean, you're not my dad.
- Paul - JEFFRIES: Hey.
Do what I told you.
- Or what? - [SCOFFS.]
[GAIL GASPS, PAUL III GRUNTS.]
[LAUGHS.]
GAIL: Paul [SHOUTS.]
PAUL III: Ah, fuck.
[PAUL III GROANS.]
- Get off.
- Let me see.
Go see your boyfriend.
Oh.
[QUIETLY.]
: He never ties his laces.
If he wears shoes at all.
Paul, he never ties his laces.
See? The showdowns we've had about it, the times that he's tripped over his own shoes.
It's a family joke, him and those damn laces.
I'm coming.
- No, Chace.
- Hmm? Please.
Go back to your hotel.
What? I have instructions to stay with you at all times.
I'm sorry, ma'am, there could be anybody out there.
There could be paparazzi out there If I need you, I'll call you.
It might not I just need to do something on my own.
A-All right.
At least let me check it out first, ma'am.
[QUIETLY.]
: Damn.
[MUMBLES.]
[CRYING QUIETLY.]
[CRYING QUIETLY.]
[INDISTINCT MURMURING.]
They are your son's, yes? Yes.
Can I look at the body again, please? - I don't think it's a good - It is my right.
Show me.
- No, no, signora - I will.
Poor boy.
[REPORTERS CLAMORING.]
Mrs.
Getty! Mrs.
Getty! [CAMERA SHUTTERS CLICKING.]
[CLAMORING CONTINUES.]
[DRIVER SPEAKING ITALIAN.]
[BANGING ON DOOR.]
I'm not going away! - Stop, okay? - I want to see him.
Fifty.
- Closed.
- Fifty! Fifty! Fif Get your hands off of me! I will stay until he comes.
If he doesn't come, I will go to the police and tell 'em about this place.
And you.
["SETTEMBRE" BY PEPPINO GAGLIARDI PLAYING.]
Hello? If I make you smile, will you buy me a drink? Kind of.
[LAUGHS.]
Un Negroni, per favore.
- Certo.
- Due.
[DOOR OPENS.]
[DOOR CLOSES.]
Signora.
I can still taste the burned flesh in my throat.
It's disgusting.
How could you do that? I am sorry.
How dare you? How fucking dare you? Do you have any idea what it feels like to think that your son's been burned to death?! Do you? Is it your idea of a joke, you despicable shit of a man? Well, it's not funny.
Not to me.
Because I know.
I know it's not him.
That poor burned boy is not my son.
So you go back to your cowardly little capo, your little boss man, and you tell him to stop whatever game he's playing.
[QUIETLY.]
: That boy was somebody's son.
You animals.
[SNIFFS.]
- PAUL III: Rosario! - ANGELO: Rosaria! - Rosaria! - Rosaria! [DOOR OPENS.]
That's all, folks.
Hey, wait, wait, wait, wait! - LEONARDO: No! - No, no.
No.
[SPEAKING ITALIAN.]
Primo.
Mama! Mom! [PANTING.]
He's alive.
[MUSIC PLAYING IN BACKGROUND.]
John, chapter 11.
- What? - Lazarus: I am the resurrection.
He that believeth in me, though he be dead, so he shall live.
Hallelujah! - SOPHIA: Hi.
- Um there's a slight change of plans, miss.
We need to make our way - to the door now.
- Really? I find myself on company time.
If we could have a bit of privacy here.
Vaffanculo.
I do speak that much French.
Talk to me.
ROBINA [IN DISTANCE.]
: Paul! Paul! - What? - Paul? Oh, God.
Paul! He's alive! Paul! - [IN DISTANCE.]
: Paul! - Oh, but I can't be.
I'm too old.
According to these results, you are.
Paul! [WHISPERS.]
: No, but I can't.
- He won't let me.
- I'm sure it's not as simple as that.
[SHUDDERS.]
: It is.
You don't know him.
I need to get rid of it.
Am I correct in thinking you don't have any children? Yes No Correct At your age, there's a good chance this might well be your last chance to conceive.
[CHUCKLES.]
: Well, I should bloody well think so.
Perhaps you should take a few days to consider before you take any irreversible steps.
Perhaps you should talk to Mr.
Getty, decide together.
Mm.
["PUTTIN' ON THE RITZ" BY FRED ASTAIRE PLAYING.]
Have you seen the well-to-do Up and down Park Avenue On that famous thoroughfare With their noses in the air High hats And narrow collars White spats And lots of dollars Spending every dime For a wonderful time Now, if you're blue and you don't know Where to go to, why don't you go Where fashion sits Puttin' on the Ritz Different types who wear a day coat Ah.
- Dance? - You got lucky.
Oh, Pen, really.
Time for a smile, no? You could have been wrong.
You should have been wrong.
But I wasn't wrong.
- Was I, Von Block? - Absolutely.
Bang on, Paul.
I've got it all down for the chapter on business negotiations.
You're such a bastard.
A bastard who is right.
Bullimore! I might buy the Ritz.
What do you think? Guaranteed a good tea.
Oh, splendid man.
What would I do without you? - Thank you, sir.
- Do you fish? [CHUCKLES.]
: Oh, yes, of course you fish.
Take the day off.
Go fishing.
Thank you, sir.
But before you leave, pack me a bag.
I'm going on a little trip.
Yes, sir.
Where are you going? Rome.
I've had quite enough of this nonsense.
Want to come with me? For the weekend.
- Visit the sites.
- No, thank you.
I'm afraid I've made other plans this weekend.
Other plans? PENELOPE: Safe journey, though.
Tips his hat just like an English chappie To a lady with a wealthy pappy Very snappy You'll you're blue and you don't know Where to go to, why don't you go Where fashion sits Puttin' on the Ritz Different types who wear a day coat Pants with stripes and cutaway coats Perfect fits Puttin' on the Ritz.
[LIQUID DRIPPING.]
Here.
You must put this behind you.
Eat.
I didn't know.
I didn't know.
What did you think would happen to him, hmm? We take his pocket money away? You killed him.
No.
No, I didn't.
I-I didn't shoot him.
This is not Rome.
We have nothing here, and you promised him something.
Whether you held the gun or not, you killed him and the old man, too.
Grow up, cazzo.
Take responsibility! You are lucky to be alive.
So stay alive.
Eat, cazzo! Okay.
- [BANGING ON DOOR.]
- PAUL JR.
: Hey! - Happy day, madam.
- Open up! - Yes, it is.
- [POUNDING ON DOOR.]
- Good day, sir.
- Fuck off, Bullimore.
Where is the old bastard, huh? Where is he? PAUL: I assume you're referring to me.
You have been drinking.
I have.
And, no doubt, been taking drugs.
[SCOFFS.]
Correct again.
Well, there's no flies on the old man, Bullimore.
He can spot a loser when he sees one.
He's an expert.
It's the spécialité de la maison.
Is there a purpose to this visit? My purpose is to deliver my congratulations to you in person, pater bravo.
You have moved on from killing your sons with your own particular brand of sadism to killing your grandsons.
Bravo.
- But I haven't.
- No.
No, no.
No, of course not.
It's nothing to do with you.
It's not your idea to sit on your hands doing fuck-all for weeks.
Not your idea to offer the princely sum of $600 for the life of Paul, your grandson! My beautiful baby boy.
You fuckin' murderer! You might as well have put your hands around his throat and throttled him dead! Except he isn't.
Dead I mean.
I-I don't understand.
PAUL: Evidently.
Well, but Alive and well.
[CLEARS THROAT.]
Well, I-I thought Do you have anything to add? Show him out, Bullimore.
Call out the instigators - Because there's something - [KNOCK ON DOOR.]
In the air How very nice to see you, Jahangir.
Happy Sunday.
A most extraordinary thing.
Two things.
The boy, Paul? It wasn't him on the beach.
The boy's alive.
Is he? Wonderful.
But even more extraordinary, I have the day off.
Marvelous.
Pull up a pew.
- We're having gin fizz.
- Are we? SUSIE: We most certainly are.
None of your cheap muck.
I got the good stuff.
Jahangir, Aunt Susie.
I've been wondering when I was going to meet you.
Darling, let's adjourn somewhere more convivial.
Park me in that bloody thing and I'll never get out.
["CHEEK TO CHEEK" PLAYING.]
Heaven I'm in heaven And my heart beats so That I can hardly speak PAUL: What? I love this one.
And I seem to find.
Do you have a minute to talk? I have to go to work.
It won't take a moment.
Isn't the news about Paul wonderful? Miraculous, somehow.
Actually, I've got some other news.
I don't know how it happened.
Well, obviously I do.
Paul, I'm I'm pregnant.
[LAUGHS.]
I'm sorry.
Mackenzie will sort you out.
Well, um, yes, but I You're in breach of contract.
I'm aware of that, but I just thought we might perhaps Maybe we could renegotiate.
I have never renegotiated in my entire life.
- But this is your child, Paul.
- It'd better be.
Maybe another son.
Another son.
What on earth makes you think I would want another son, dear lady? If you think my sons have done anything other than disappoint me, then you clearly have not been paying attention.
No, get rid of it or go.
The choice is yours.
Hey, rainmaker, come away from that man You know he's gonna SUSIE: More fuel.
We need more fuel.
Oh.
Oh, thank you.
Isn't this fun? We should live like this all the time.
Well, why not? Come and stay at my place.
Set yourself up with that market garden you're always talking about.
Tell him, Jahangir.
I didn't know about the market garden.
- Oh, well, you know.
- SUSIE: Come as well.
What, and leave here? Why not? It's a terrible place.
He'd make a fantastic front-of-house man.
He would.
You would.
- Really? - Absolutely.
Red bedroom's spare.
I'll buy you two a comfy new mattress for that bed the diplomat died in.
What do you say, Jahangir? You're a man, he's a man I'm sorry, I I really must be getting back.
Hey, rainmaker, he got golden plans I tell you, he make you a stranger She means well.
She's just tactless.
Come on.
Come back in please.
I'm afraid it's impossible.
Oi.
[GRUNTS.]
[SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
Hmm.
Nice piece.
I used one just like that in Vietnam.
[SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
- I'm-I'm not holding.
- Hmm? I don't have a - Show me.
- Oh, that? Oh, there's nothing to show, really, it's just a a radio.
A radio.
That's all.
Yeah, that's all.
Click, click.
Click.
Click.
That's about the slow and skinny of it.
[HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRRING.]
[HELICOPTER APPROACHING.]
We used those in Vietnam, too.
No.
Si.
Right.
[BOTH LAUGH.]
Esatto.
[SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
Let's sit.
Oh, that's that's mighty civil of you.
- [EXHALES.]
- [SPEAKS ITALIAN.]
That's good.
May I ask a question? Uh, yeah.
I don't guarantee an answer, but shoot.
[SIGHS.]
Mr.
Getty, why doesn't he pay? Why? That's a fair question.
$17 million, uh, is nothing for him.
Less than nothing.
The rich are not like us.
They're different.
I mean, you put the same water in and they piss the same water out, but they are different.
They play a different game.
In 1969 the Los Angeles Rams beat the Cowboys in the regular season.
["CISSY STRUT" BY THE METERS PLAYING.]
I was on the Ho Chà Minh trail.
We get ambushed.
We called in for a couple birds.
Now, had two locals with us.
One was a tracker and the other was a translator.
And they're late to the evac site.
We've already dusted off.
They jump.
And they hang on to the treads.
Then we're airborne.
The bird starts doing one of these.
[WHOOSHES.]
I mean, the gooks are just shooting the shit out of us.
Door gunner is a sergeant, big fella.
Know what he does? [GRUNTS.]
On their hands.
[GRUNTING.]
When a Texas Ranger does that, you tend to let go.
They went down.
We went up.
[CHUCKLES.]
He didn't say a word about it.
He just goes back to work.
[GUNSHOTS.]
We fly home without incident.
Thank you very much.
So when I think about the rich, I think about that.
[CHUCKLES.]
Yes.
Mr.
Getty [BOTH LAUGH.]
Mr.
Getty.
["CITTÃ VUOTA" BY MINA PLAYING.]
[WOMAN SINGING IN ITALIAN.]
He's alive.
- Mom! - Paul's alive! He's alive! He's okay.
Paul he's okay.
Shall I get those funds together for you now, sir? Hmm? The ransom? Oh.
Get hold of Paul.
Right away.
Y-Your son, Paul, sir? Who else would I be talking about? [SIGHS.]
Yes.
I did the difficult bit.
All he has to do is pay.