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Finding King – Chapter 4

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 10/06/2014

Finding King

A tabloid writer for the Weekly World Daily and a Columbia grad student are on the hunt to discover if Elvis is still alive.

Chapter 4 – The Memphis Connection

SCHETTE: We could transfer to Hawaii. We could be Five-0!

FAULK: We’re not transferring to Hawaii. What’s wrong with Memphis? The ribs. The blues. The Grizzlies. This town’s got it all!

SCHETTE: I dunno, I’m just over it.

FAULK: We can’t keep transferring to a new city every time you get bored.

SCHETTE:  (puts a hand on his partner’s shoulder, smiling) Sure we can, buddy.

(Memphis PD Detectives Ricky Faulk and Harry Schette are staking out the river harbor as Helen and Aaron disembark the once-runaway/now under control riverboat casino..)

FAULK:  That’s gotta be them. Man in his thirties. Woman in her twenties. Traveling by transportation means other than planes so as to avoid bag checks.

SCHETTE: Let’s make our collar, partner. You’re not gonna smuggle heroin in my town.

(The detectives exit the vehicle..)

SCHETTE: Especially if my town was..Honolu–

FAULK: No.


(In the downtown Memphis precinct Helen and Aaron are in separate interrogation rooms being grilled by the buddy cops from diverse backgrounds but united through a common cause and learning to overcome their differences only to discover that we’re not all that different, you and I..)

SCHETTE: (slams table) Where’s the scag, scumbag!

AARON: The..what?

SCHETTE: Don’t play coy with me, Mister Brownstone. Where ya hidin’ it? In your butt? So help me god, if I have to go in your butt..

AARON: Please don’t go in my butt.


(In room B..)

FAULK: I’m gonna make this nice and simple for you. You flip on your old man and the system will go a lot easier on you.

HELEN: Oh, he’s not my dad. I know he looks older, but he’s only in his thirties. Journalism can be very stressf–

FAULK: I didn’t mean dad, I meant boyfriend.

HELEN: Oh, gross.


SCHETTE: Elvis Presley.

AARON: Yes, I’m a writer for the Weekly World Daily. Just call that number and my editor will vouch for me.

SCHETTE: (hand over receiver) It’s ringing.

AARON: (nods)

SCHETTE: Still ringing. So you really believe Elvis is still alive.

AARON: He cut our steamboat’s brakes.

SCHETTE: I thought steamboats ran on steam.

AARON: Well, they have to stop.

SCHETTE: (holds up finger) Yes, hello. I’m Det. Harry Schette with the Memphis PD. I’d like to speak to a Miss Jessica Felcher with the Weekly World Daily? (turns to Aaron with a twisted grin) There’s no business with that name at your location?

AARON: What.

SCHETTE: (hangs up) Well there goes your alibi, Mr. King.

AARON: Elvis is behind all this, isn’t he? He put you up to this. My god, how high up does this go?

SCHETTE: The fuck.


(Helen and Aaron are sitting on a bench in the precinct’s main room, Det.’s Faulk and Schette standing over them..)

SCHETTE: You two are going away for a long long time. You know, uh, once we find the heroin you’re smuggling.

HELEN: (whispering to Aaron) Didn’t you call Mrs. Felcher? Didn’t she straighten all this out?

AARON: The detective said Weekly World Daily isn’t in their building anymore. Elvis is messing with our heads.

HELEN: (nods) Orrr they shut down and moved out. You said the paper was having budgetary problems.

AARON: Hmm, that’s also an option.

HELEN: Yeah.

(The Sergeant approaches Faulk and Schette and two cops handcuff the detectives..)

SARGE: Faulk & Schette, you’re under arrest.

SCHETTE: Oh, come on!

FAULK: But Sarge, we brothas.

SCHETTE: Oh, now he plays the race card.

SARGE: You embezzled nearly $200,000 from the evidence locker. We have you on video.

SCHETTE: You know where this wouldn’t have happened, right?

FAULK: Don’t say it.

SCHETTE: You know where we would’ve got away with this?

FAULK: Don’t do it.

SCHETTE: Honolu–

(Ricky leaps onto Harry and an all-out free-for-all erupts across the precinct floor as Helen and Aaron quietly shuffle out of the police station..)


Send all hate mail to ethanrbooker@gmail.com

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