True Confessions

After two days in the California desert

in temperatures above 110 degrees.

President Kennedy is flying back to Washington tonight

for a major speech on international economic policy

before officers and directors

of the World Bank tomorrow morning.

Bill Lawrence, ABC. Palm Springs, California.

- How are you? - May I help you?

I'm Father Duarte, the assistant pastor.

- I'm looking for Monsignor Spellacy. - And who might you be?

I might be his brother.

Mr. Spellacy, Eduardo Duarte.

I'm helping the Monsignor out until he's 100 percent.

He's not 100 percent?

Just a matter of time, Mr. Spellacy. Just a matter of time.

As soon as I fix the carburetor on the car,

I'm gonna repaint the thermometer.

We're getting the building fund drive on the way again.

The new St. Mary's is going to be the flower of the desert.

Hello, Tommy.

I'm sorry, Monsignor, for monopolizing your brother.

It's just that when I talk about the new St. Mary's, I get carried away.

That's all right, Father Duarte.

How are you, Tommy? Good to see you.

Father Duarte said you weren't feeling 100 percent.

Oh, well, who is, Tommy? Who is?

Who is?

This morning after mass, Mr. McHugh comes to see me.

Nice man, Mr. McHugh.

But one thing about being a pastor

is that no one ever stops by and rings your doorbell

to tell you everything is just swell.

So when Mr. McHugh stops by,

no, it's not because he wants to help Father Eduardo

paint the thermometer outside.

No, no.

Mr. McHugh tells me that his daughter, a Carmelite nun,

is leaving the convent to become a professional bowler.

- What? - I'm not kidding. A professional bowler.

I didn't even know they had alleys in the convents these days.

So I said to him I'd say a mass for her.

Maybe that'll help her bowl a perfect string.

How are you, Des?

Oh, it's a well-known fact

the Irish have more hemorrhoids than other people. Otherwise...

Look, look, Des, I asked you a simple question.

Now, give me a straight answer.

How are you?

I'm gonna die, Tommy.

You're not kidding.

The arteries to the pump are shot.

Handkerchief, Jack.

Cough drop.

You need a new radiator.

I need a new car.

Got my eye on one, believe me.

Olds 98.

If I hold up a gas station, maybe I can get a down payment.

Hello, fatty.

It's been a while since I've been in a $5 cat house.

I busted this joint once when I was in vice.

They had a girl. I swear she had two left tits.

Let's go. LAPD.

Down at the right. On the end.

Jesus!

What do you want for five bucks?

Hey.

Been a long time.

Yeah.

This joint's quite a comedown from your place in Hollywood, Brenda.

I used to watch my girls do you, fatso, through the peek.

You never took off your pants.

- If I did, they'd be standing in line. - Why'd you call?

Down here.

Hi, Tom. You wanna play carnival?

I don't know that one.

I sit on your face, and you try to guess my weight.

- Heart attack. - When he was committing a mortal sin.

- Still warm. - Yeah.

A priest.

A pastor, no less.

St. Bernadette's in Redondo Beach.

I know him.

Father Mickey. Mickey Gagnon. St. Bernadette's.

He used to run a swell game of bingo.

What's he doing in a joint like this?

Getting his ashes hauled is a good bet.

A wiz at bingo. A real pain in the ass at confession.

- All right, give. - I didn't take nothing.

Just give it to me. Now!

If you told him you picked your nose, he'd give you a rosary for penance.

A swell pair of shoes.

All right, here you go. Come on.

- How long was he here? - It was the second one that did it.

What do you think?

It's gonna make a big hit with your brother, the Monsignor.

She looks like a jelly doughnut, doesn't she?

That's hardly a judicious thing for a lawyer to say

about a young bride on her wedding day.

Imagine her wearing white with something already in the toaster.

Jack, I want to tell you something.

That's a little girl who'd bring a tear to her father's eye.

He was just talking about the color of her wedding dress.

Off-white, I think you called it, right, Dan?

Now, remember, Jack, you're not losing a daughter.

You're gaining a bathroom.

How'd the Cardinal like the wedding, Monsignor?

He's sorry he had to leave so soon.

But then he's getting on in age.

He looks 100, if you ask me.

And when he goes, we know who we'd like to replace him, right, Jack?

- How about some dessert? - Oh, yeah, sure.

How'd you like all the flowers in the church, Monsignor?

Very nice.

- Set me back four grand. - Imagine that.

- That's a lot of goddamn roses. - Yes, it is.

Every one of them will be in a Catholic hospital tonight.

If you've got any left over, you might think of the orphanages.

Yeah. How's the champagne, Monsignor?

Vintage.

French vintage. None of that California shit.

Excuse my English.

Hey, I'll send you a case.

His Eminence too.

Hey, the Cardinal ever go to the track?

Maybe he'll be my guest one day. I'll give him a couple of tips.

If Jack gives you a tip, you could bet the Sistine Chapel on it, Des.

That's how I met the Monsignor, Counselor.

- At Santa Anita. - Oh, yeah?

I gave him a tip.

Orchestra leader. Fourteen to one, huh?

That's right.

Well, you've got a way with long shots, Jack.

Hey, it won by six lengths.

- Did he? - Yeah.

Hey, you want some more champagne?

Hey, you!

You two talk while I make sure everyone's having a good time.

- Okay. - Thanks.

I'm fine, thank you.

Fourteen to one, huh? Must have been a boat race.

Of course it was. That's why you could bet the Sistine Chapel on it.

You look like shit.

How's your wife?

She left with her tuna fish casserole recipe. Her one dish.

- And your brother, the Monsignor? - Okay.

I used to listen to him on the radio when I was in the joint.

The religious hour.

I'll bet he said a novena for you every time that you and I screwed.

What's on your mind, Brenda?

You ever notice how you get old, your feet swell up?

I started noticing things like that when I was in the joint.

Your feet swell up, your toenails get little ridges on them.

Well, maybe you ought to write a book about it, all right?

You ever tell your brother in confession that Jack was paying you off?

Or maybe he doesn't know what a bag man is, your brother.

They don't teach them things like that at the seminary.

What are you trying to say?

You ever wonder why Jack fixed it so that you didn't get indicted and I did?

Jack wouldn't know me if he walked into me.

Forget you.

It was all that business he was doing with your brother.

All those Catholic schools he was building.

It wouldn't have looked good, you going on trial.

So he put in the fix downtown.

Somebody had to take the fall. Me.

Anything else?

Yeah. Just get that stiff out of here.

Once a bag man, always a bag man!

I'm sorry about that.

Okay?

You know my temper.

I need you like I need another fuck.

You know, Jack's got this grand new development, Des.

Rancho Rosa, I think it's called.

Anyway, he wants to give a little piece to His Eminence for a school.

Isn't that a grand thing to do?

Rancho Rosa?

I hear he's having trouble getting rid of his lots.

He needs a school and the city won't put one in, is that true?

My God, you're suspicious. Peg?

Monsignor.

- Mrs. Campion, how are you? - Oh, it was a beautiful mass.

Thank you.

I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done.

It's a beautiful wedding, and I wanted to tell you

how much I appreciated all your patience and time.

It was an honor and I...

I know that you'll be very happy, Georgette.

I'm sure of that.

- Monsignor, you know why I got married. - Yes, I do.

But I wouldn't worry about it. I think it'll be fine.

I think you've done the right thing, and you have my blessing.

Thank you, Monsignor.

Yeah, so, he's gotten awful grand since he became a supervisor.

I remember when you could rent him by the day.

And now, after being turned down everywhere else,

Jack makes this most generous offer to us.

What would you call that, Des?

- I'd call that a pair of grape scissors. - Oh.