Blow Out

- It's Burke, sir.
- What?

It's Burke, sir.
- Burke! What have you done?
- I don't understand the question, sir.

Are you crazy? You were just
supposed to get some pictures of him.

Are you aware of what you're saying, sir?
Where are you?
I'm calling from a secure phone booth.
I suggest you call me back on same.

Excuse me. Is Mr Karp in?
- Could I go in?
- What for?

- I just have to pick up some pictures.
- Are you anybody?

- I'm one of his customers.
- You know, he had a lotta customers.

- You're a reporter, ain't ya?
- No.

- You want Karp's film.
- I don't know what you're talking about.

If there was a law against lyin', I'd have
made a lotta collars today - Mr Customer.

- I am a customer and I'd like my pictures.
- Yeah, he's a customer too.

- He offered me a thousand bucks.
- Really?

And his wife offered me three.
Doesn't seem worth it
but I guess you had to be there, huh?

Looks like Karp did
a little divorce work on the side.

Didn't give a shit about his customers.
I found these in a heap under his bed.

That's some baby picture.
You were supposed to get pictures
of McRyan, not kill him!

I understood
the objectives of the operation.

I didn't kill him. It was an accident.
You accidentally
shot out the tyre of his car?

As you may recall, this was my plan
as proposed at our meeting of June 6.

We rejected that plan.
Don't you remember?

I do admit I had to exceed
the parameters of my authority.

But I stayed within
an acceptable margin of error.

After all, the objective was achieved.
He was eliminated from the election.

Burke, I don't know you.
I've never seen you.