by David Mamet
HENRY: Well, no, this is your Honor Student, let’s . . .
JACK: It’s alright . . .
HENRY: She’s your science project, Jacky, she’s not mine. And you were going to take the check?
SUSAN: Yes.
HENRY: And had you had it in contention to give him a receipt?
SUSAN: Yes. I was writing him a . . .
HENRY (To Susan): What does it mean contractually, if you had accepted the check, and you had given him a receipt. Is there a technical term for that?
(Pause.)
SUSAN: It’s called a retainer.
HENRY: And what is its definition?
JACK: ALRIGHT, Hank.
HENRY: Is it “a legal contract?”
JACK: . . . alright . . .
HENRY: Which means we might be obliged to try his case?
SUSAN: He gave a check to Greenstein . . .
HENRY: I’m sure he did not.
SUSAN: Why?
HENRY: Because Greenstein’s too fucking smart.
SUSAN: I was simply . . .
JACK: No harm done, alright? We leave the check upon the table. No harm done. If he’s written the check, don’t touch it. (Henry shakes his head) I’ll take care of it. It’s alright, Henry. Jesus Christ . . .
SUSAN (Pointing at the door): Do you want me to . . . ?
JACK: No, I’ll do it. Call Kelley’s guy. Tell him. We appreciate the documents . . . (He shows the file of papers)
SUSAN: I didn’t get them from Kelley.
JACK: No, from “Kelley’s guy.” Tell him we require no further—
SUSAN: I didn’t get them from Kelley’s guy. He was not responding.
JACK: You didn’t get the documents from Kelley’s guy?
SUSAN: No.
JACK: Where did you get them from?
SUSAN: From the D.A.
HENRY: You requested the documents from the D.A.
SUSAN: Yes. (Pause)
HENRY: Well, then you might as well take his check, because now we’re the Attorneys of Record. (Pause) What the fuck did you think we were doing in here? While you were asked, go out there, look pretty, and stall the fellow, while we decided . . .
SUSAN: I believed I was doing as instructed . . .
HENRY: While we decided whether or not to take the case.
SUSAN: You instructed me—
HENRY : Did you fucking go to Law School?
SUSAN: I beg your pardon, you told me, to take him into the . . .
HENRY: And give him a magazine. I’m going to tell you what, you went Blind. You went fucking blind. You saw, the Rich Man, Billionaire, flirted with you.
SUSAN: I beg your pardon.
HENRY: . . . that you tried how many Stupid Fucking Errors you could make in a ten-minute interval.
JACK: Henry, she made a mistake . . .
HENRY: What I know, that you do not know, is why she made it.
JACK: Why did she make it?
HENRY: Because she let her color jump on her intellect. (Pause) And all you had to do is give him a magazine. (Pause) Which. Because of all your “Ivy League” training . . . It seems you found beneath you.
JACK: Alright, alright . . .
HENRY (Reads): “And now I’m going to fuck you, you little nigger bitch . . .” (Pause) And that’s our case.
(Henry puts down the pad. Susan picks it up, reads it, and puts it back down. Pause.)
JACK: Will they swear to it?
HENRY: Aw, come on, Jacky.
JACK: Will he swear to it?
HENRY: White clergyman gets to say “fuck,” “nigger” and “bitch,” in one sentence.
(Pause.)
JACK: Well: . . .
(Pause.)
HENRY: There are some things, One cannot say, Jack . . . And our client . . .
JACK: He didn’t say it, it’s just “alleged” . . .
HENRY: That one cannot “allege,” as the mob, fearful of itself, will as you say, turn on the alleged, and kill him. How do you defend this cocksucker? (Pause) I need to tell you something.
JACK: She can stay.
(Pause.)
HENRY: I don’t think so . . .
JACK: She can stay, Henry.
(Pause.)
HENRY: Alright. If we must. If we are, as it seems we are wedded to this case. (Pause) It has not been unknown. For Advocates. To stage a less than Spirited Defense. Of those they clearly found objectionable. With results acceptable to all but the accused.
JACK: What if he’s innocent?
HENRY: Then tell me how we’re going to win this case.
(A phone rings. Henry answers it. Into phone:)
Yes. (Listens)
JACK (To Susan): Can one win this case?
SUSAN: You said one can win any case.
JACK: And the addendum?
SUSAN: “If one only takes on cases one can win.” (Pause) I’m truly sorry if I did wrong.
JACK: I know you are.
SUSAN: I’m truly sorry.
JACK: It’s called a “mistake.” (Reading) Copy of the indictment. The report of the first responding officer, room report, report of the chambermaid. Report of the floor supervisor . . .
HENRY (Hangs up the phone): Clerk of the court has called. He’s listed us as the Attorneys of Record. And we are to appear with Mr. Strickland tomorrow.
JACK: Who’s the judge?
HENRY: Before Judge Johnson. To enter a plea.
JACK: That’s great.
HENRY: I say we plead him.
JACK: He won’t plead.
HENRY: How do you know?
JACK: ’Cause he just told us. (Pause) Okay. What do you do on Dead Ground?
HENRY: “On Dead Ground, Fight.”
(Jack passes one of the newspapers to Susan.)
JACK: Read it. (She starts to read; pauses) Just fucking read the thing.
SUSAN (Reads): He threw me down. He ripped off my red sequined dress . . .
JACK (Referring to another piece of paper): What is this?
SUSAN (Looking at it): Hotel. Floor supervisor’s report . . .
JACK: Read it.
HENRY (Reads): “ . . . the chambermaid Rosa Gonzales . . . Room fourteen twelve . . . disarray, disarray, liquor. Spilled . . . cigarette butts . . . ” (Pause. He looks up; Jack looks at Henry) What? What?
JACK: Where are the sequins? (Pause) Floor supervisor’s report. Room all torn up, chambermaid’s late making it up.
HENRY: Yes?
(Pause.)
JACK: Cigarette butts. Disarray . . . (Pause) No mention of the sequins.
HENRY: I don’t . . .
JACK (Of Susan): She knows. He ripped the dress off, the room would be covered in sequins. It has to be. Tell him. A sequined dress, you look at it wrong, they start to fall off. You walk into that room, that would be the first thing you see. (Pause) “He threw me down, he ripped my dress off.” (Pause) It’s impossible that room would not be covered in sequins. (Pause) It’s impossible. (Pause)
HENRY: So he didn’t rape her?
JACK: How do I know. But, we’ve got a case. I like it. I fucking like it.
SUSAN: He called her “you nigger bitch.”
JACK: The couple next door said.
HENRY: The couple next door heard “you nigger bitch.”
SUSAN: . . . can we impeach them?
HENRY: You impeach them and you lose the jury.
JACK: Alright. You want to be bold?
(Pause.)
HENRY: Old married couple, one of them’s a preacher, Jack . . .
JACK: You want to be bold?
HENRY: . . . tell me.
JACK: How do you draw attention from a shameful act?
HENRY: “By admitting to a more shameful act.”
JACK: They didn’t hear “you nigger bitch.”
HENRY: They’ll swear they did.
JACK: Uh-huh.
HENRY: What did they hear?
JACK: They heard “My nigger bitch.” (Pause; to Susan) Anybody ever
call you that, while he was fucking you? Crazy with love? (Pause) White man, to say that? Admits to that in a courtroom, that’s so shameful every fucking person on the jury will have to believe him. “I’m going to fuck you now my little nigger bitch.”
SUSAN: This isn’t about sex, it’s about Race.
JACK: What’s the difference?
SCENE TWO
Henry and Jack in the office. Henry is reading a report.
HENRY: Hotel room: “Condition, as to be expected, lamps broken, linens in disarray, cigarette butts, liquor bottles . . .”
JACK: This is the maid . . .
HENRY: The floor manager.... her report recapitulates that of the maid, bit better English. No mention in either . . .
JACK: And the crime scene report . . .
HENRY (Perusing): No mention of sequins.
JACK: No mention.
HENRY: No.
JACK: First responding officer is told . . . (Checks notes) “He ripped off my dress, he threw me on the bed.” . . . he sees no sequins. Fresh rookie officer. First felony—bending over backwards, do it by the book. “Broken lamp, linens on the floor, liquor bottles.” No sequins.
HENRY: . . . and we have the “phrase.”
JACK: He called her “my little nigger.”
HENRY: Is that what he said?
JACK: You bet it is and the jury averts its eyes from the whole fucking incident. Tell me the dress again.
HENRY: Again?
JACK: Where is the dress? The lab?
HENRY: The D.A., do you want me to request the dress?
JACK: No. Tell Kelley. Get me, from the manufacturer. The specs. The dress material, the thread, most importantly the thread, the sequins, need be, we will reconstruct the dr . . . The entire dress. What size was the dress? (To Henry) . . . you give me ONE WOMAN. In that jury box, if he “ripped off that dress,” any woman. Knows: somebody sneezes, those sequins are coming off that dress like rain.
(Susan enters.)
SUSAN: He is waiting outside.
JACK: What size was the dress?
SUSAN: What size?
JACK: Her dress.
SUSAN: About a two.
JACK: “About” a “two.”
SUSAN (Checks notes): Dress was a two.
JACK: About your size.
SUSAN: Yes.
JACK: I need, the sales receipt. For the dress. Stating the size. The sales receipt and match it to the dress—
SUSAN : Why?
JACK: Because they’ll say the dress was too fucking big, too fucking small, mis-tagged, and thus invalidates our demonstr . . . he’s waiting . . . ?
SUSAN: Yes.
JACK: . . . and thus invalidates our demonstration.
SUSAN: What demonstration?
JACK: We’re going to stage a demonstration.
HENRY: Yes.
JACK: Same dress. Exact same dress. Woman of a similar size, you could do it. Woman of a similar size puts on the dress. Somebody. Throws you down.
SUSAN: Throws me down?
JACK: Upon a mattress . . . put a bed in the court—you put that bed in the court, people are looking away anyway . . . He throws you down . . .
SUSAN: The girl still says “he raped me.”
JACK: The dress kills ’em on cross.
SUSAN: On cross.
JACK: We let them bring it up. Girl says, “He threw me down and raped me,” now we cross- examine. Model, puts on the dress, sequins fly, we move for a directed verdict.
HENRY: Well this is good.
JACK: You could put on the dress.
SUSAN: Why? Because I’m black.
(Pause.)
JACK: Well, it has to be a black girl.
SUSAN: Why?
JACK: Why? BECAUSE, in fact, you put a white girl in the dress, what does the jury think . . .
HENRY: “They’re using a white girl, so we will not remember the victim is black.”
JACK: That’s correct—the alleged victim, that’s right . . .
SUSAN: . . . he’s waiting outside . . .
JACK (To Henry): You want to hotwalk him a moment.
HENRY: Explain it to her.
JACK: She understands.
HENRY: Tell her anyway.
(Henry exits.)
JACK: We’re going to give the jury a gift.
SUSAN: A gift?
JACK: We’re going to give them a surprise. But it works only as a surprise.
SUSAN: And the surprise is the dress.
JACK: That’s right. Sufficient to get whosoever’s on the jury, to put aside all the nonsense they think they’re supposed to think about race. And rule on the facts. Why? (Pause) Because the fucking guy’s innocent.
SUSAN: “Nonsense about race.”
JACK: That’s right . . .
SUSAN: Is it nonsense?
JACK: Most of it is. Sure.
SUSAN: Why?
JACK: Because we’re herd fuckin’ creatures; and we’ve all got to go home and face the people on the block.
(Pause.)
SUSAN: Do you think black people are stupid?
(Pause.)
JACK: I think black people are fragile.
SUSAN: Are black people different from other people?
JACK: All people are different. Sometimes they conjoin.
SUSAN: They conjoin.
JACK: Yes.
SUSAN: Into.
JACK: A group. A race. A jury, or an audience. (Pause) Sometimes they conjoin into a mob.
SUSAN: And you think black people are fragile.
JACK: I know they are.
SUSAN: Why?
JACK: Because you deal with shame.
SUSAN: “Shame”?
JACK: That’s correct.
SUSAN: More than other people?
JACK: All people deal with shame or guilt. Jews deal with guilt. Blacks deal with shame. It’s two of the wonderful ways we metabolize feelings of inferiority. Our job. Is to get them on the jury to accept our new definition of the Group to which they belong. Not “the whites” or “the blacks.” Not “the well-meaning.” Or “the people on my block.” But the new group—which is called “the jury.” Another name for which is, The Audience. We’re going to put on a show. And when we “amuse” them—they may forget, their individual allegiances and, for a moment be conjoined. But for our entertainment to succeed it has to have, surprise. And if a word gets out of the surprise’s nature, the surprise will fail, and we will lose.
(Henry enters.)
HENRY: Jack . . .
SUSAN: If word got out about our strategy, the other side would win.
JACK: They would.
SUSAN: What could they do . . .
HENRY: Uh . . .
JACK: If the case: hangs upon a sequin, all they’d have to do is secrete One Sequin, somewhere in the hotel room . . .
HENRY: Jack . . .
JACK: And there goes our case.
SUSAN: . . . would they do that? . . .
JACK: Oh Yes. So our task is: not to breathe, not even to think of our little surprise. For, if we can think it, the other side can, too. I would not even tell our client. (To Henry) What?
HENRY: He wants to go to the press.
JACK: He wants to go to the Press?
HENRY: With this statement.
(He hands the paper to Jack. Jack reads.)
JACK: He wants to give this fucking statement to the press.
HENRY: That’s right . . .
JACK: Get him in here . . .
(Henry goes out and escorts in Charles.)
Mr. Strickland. It is my assessment. We can win this case.
CHARLES: I’m going to go to the press.
JACK: Mister . . .
CHARLES: Would you read it.
JACK: Mister Strickland, what do you think the press is? . . . CHARLES: Would you read my statement, please?
JACK: The press, Mr. Strickland is the pillory, it is the stocks. It exists to license and gratify envy and greed. It cannot serve you. If
you appeal to the press they will tear you apart.
CHARLES: Would you please read my statement.
JACK (Reads): “I believe I was wrong . . . I believe we are all brothers beneath the skin. And though I did not legally assault the . . .” (To Henry) What do you think?
HENRY: I don’t think we’re brothers beneath the skin, over the skin, or in any way associated with the skin.
JACK: Neither do I.
(Charles takes the paper and reads.)
CHARLES (Reading): “I believe there has been a misunderstanding, that though the actual facts of the case are not as the young woman stated . . . perhaps, perhaps, on some “moral” level . . .”
HENRY: He thinks he’s wronged a girl who loved him.
JACK: Is that what you think?
CHARLES: I . . .
JACK: How did you wrong her?
CHARLES: I . . .
JACK: How did you wrong her?
CHARLES: I believe, she found herself in a difficult position and . . .
JACK: You said you didn’t do it.
CHARLES: You said you didn’t care.
JACK: But did you do it?
CHARLES: No.
JACK: Then what is it you want to confess? Did you rape her?
CHARLES: No.
HENRY: That’s all you were charged with Mr. Strickland.
JACK: Had you had sex with her before?
CHARLES: Yes.
JACK: Consensual sex?
CHARLES: Yes.
JACK: And this night; was this with her consent?
CHARLES: . . . yes. But. I . . .
JACK: We’re listening.
CHARLES: I may have made promises to her.
JACK: Do you think her actions abrogate any promises you may have made to her.
CHARLES: No.
JACK: No, you do not.
CHARLES: No.
JACK: Because . . .
CHARLES: I gave her my word.
JACK: I don’t understand . . .
CHARLES: I . . .
JACK: You gave her your word to what?
CHARLES: I . . .
HENRY: Well, let’s get the players straight here, because you want to talk to the press, but you don’t want to talk to your lawyers.
CHARLES: I gave her my word.
HENRY: That you would do what? What does she think, you’re going to take her home to mother? (Pause) That you’re going to tell your wife? “Honey, I met this nice colored girl.”
