How to Make a Killing

Open 15.

Hey, get up!

You got a visitor. Look alive.

Becket.

I'm Father James Morris, one of the chaplains here.

How are you feeling today?

Cheesecake?

No, thank you.

You know, I ordered vanilla

and they brought me chocolate.

Kill me now.

So, Father, appreciate you coming down here,

but I'm fine.

Well, forgive me, but most people

in your position feel a bit differently.

Well, I'd argue most people in my position,

most people, in general,

lack my sense of clarity, presence of mind.

I don't mean to overstep,

but, um, this may be the last opportunity

you have to speak to anyone.

Is there nothing you'd like to share?

You know why I'm here, right?

- I know a little. - Well, it's not true.

The real story, it's much more...

impressive.

Do you want to tell me about it?

Well...

I should warn you...

it's a tragedy.

And it doesn't even start with me.

Funny enough,

it starts with someone else.

And by that I mean, my mother.

...has completely forgotten how to play.

...Mary Estella Redfellow.

Longtime resident of Huntington, Long Island,

an heiress to a family fortune

valued then at 18, 19 billion US dollars.

Thank you.

Now, there's a rumor out there

that money doesn't buy happiness.

Dead wrong. Money does buy happiness.

We're all adults here. Let's move on.

I'm told that the night she met my father

was a night like any other.

And by that, I mean she was young, rich.

What could ever go wrong?

What time is it?

Oh, my God!

- What? - Oh, my God,

-I have to go right now. -You gotta go now?

Bye.

What are you doing?

- I have to go. - Okay.

I applaud you for telling us.

That being said,

I think you know what has to happen.

I'm 18.

Tragically.

No.

This should be my decision.

This should be me.

All right.

You can either get rid of it or do what you like.

But not here.

Not under this roof.

In this way, she went from being Mary Redfellow

of Huntington, New York...

...to Mary Redfellow

of Belleville, New Jersey.

Breathe.

You're doing well. Breathe.

I can't. No, no.

BECKET My father saw me only once...

Oh, my God!

...which was enough to give him a pulmonary embolism

right there at Jersey City Memorial Hospital.

...a vehicle that we haven't seen before...

My mother was left alone

to work at the Newark Department of Motor Vehicles.

Pretty soon, she told me something important.

In the painting...

We may have been kicked out of the family,

but we weren't kicked out of the inheritance.

See, my grandfather had drawn up an irrevocable trust

to avoid paying estate taxes.

It meant that the fortune,

the whole thing, the real estate,

the boats, the planes,

an island or two, would be passed down

to the next oldest in line, no matter what.

And me, being the youngest,

I might inherit the entire thing someday,

assuming I outlive the others.

I just had to wait.

For all of them to die.

Now a single mother doing it all herself,

you might assume

life was tough, but...

...I'll tell you now...

'Cause they all sound the same once you...

...despite our financial handicap,

she made sure I had all the culture, class, and style

of a highborn young man.

So when it goes, it goes through the target.

See how much of a difference that makes?

Mmm-hmm. - See?

You just open up your shoulders.

That is so much better.

Okay.

That was the first time...

the first time I saw her.

Julia Steinway.

Right off, I could see we were the perfect match.

And clearly, I wasn't wrong.

This was, without a doubt,

a girl of great social bearing, taste, charm.

What's next? The big one?

I was in the right place.

What are you doing here?

Your mom invited me.

Where do you live?

Belleville Township.

Do you live on the street?

What?

I heard people there live on the street.

I don't live on the street.

And I mean, I won't be there forever

because I'm supposed to inherit

a lot of money or something, so...

A lot of money, huh?

Are you trying to impress me?

It's okay if you are.

Next, we have Lyle Archdale!

It's all right. Everyone, it's okay.

Lyle, can you see?

Just keep playing.

Hey, Becket.

Can you come with me?

Well, my mother was young...

which is why she hadn't paid attention

to the symptoms at first.

Doctors either.

And the family, um, I'm sure they knew.

I'm sure they could've helped.

But nothing.

Not one single word.

Becket, this is all wrong.

What's all wrong?

You should have more than this.

Something was taken from you.

And I want you to promise me something.

Will you do that?

Okay.

Promise me...

that you won't quit...

until you have the right kind of life.

Until you have the kind of life

that you deserve to have.

That I raised you to have.

Can you do that for me?

"The right kind of life."

What did she mean by that?

Her final request

was to be buried at the Redfellow Mausoleum

on the family plot in Huntington.

We are gathered here...

When no answer came,

she arrived at her final resting place

just off the parkway in East Orange.

And Jesus tells us, "I am the way,

"the truth, and the life.

"He who has faith..." Or she indeed...

In that moment, I made up my mind.

Right then and there.

I would go straight to the source

and demand my rightful place at my rightful home.

"We hope this finds you well."

After that, I enjoyed a brief and colorful tour

of the New Jersey foster care system.

As for Julia, I saw her less and less...

until finally...

never at all.

And I had to wonder if we crossed paths again,

who would I be?

A great success?

Or no?

Anyway, many years later, I found myself working

a perfectly respectable job,

the kind where you wear a suit to the office every day.

- Morning. - You're early.

Yes, sir.

Uh, why don't you jump on that order from uptown, please?

Upper West.

I still kept track of the Redfellows

and the estate.

Sadly, their mortality rate was irritatingly low.

And I'd pretty much accepted

that I'd never see a penny of the fortune.