Blood Sports (11 page)

[00:00:00]

Mr. Rieger pins Mr. Bauer to the floor in the living room of apartment 304. Mr. Bauer struggles, but Mr. Rieger is kneeling on his arms and straddles him. Fading bruises are visible around neck and lower lip.

J. RIEGER
: Someone is still mad about Paulina.

Mr. Bauer turns his face from the camera.

J. RIEGER
: Poor Tom. All rejected.

T. BAUER
: Get off me!

J. RIEGER
: You can’t see it now, but I did you a favour. She is one wild –

Mr. Bauer frees an arm and the recording stops.

[00:05:13]

Mr. Bauer stands with his hands on his knees. He appears out of breath.

J. RIEGER
: Let’s make this interesting. If you can make it past me to the lobby, I will forgive all your debts.

Mr. Bauer stands straight and presses his hands into his left side. Mr. Rieger makes drum-roll sounds.

J. RIEGER
: On your mark! Get set! Go!

Mr. Bauer does not move. He glares at the camera.

J. RIEGER
: I said go.

Mr. Bauer attempts to sit on the couch.

J. RIEGER
: Meep! Come on, Tommy. Let’s see some go-get’um attitude!

Mr. Bauer turns his face from the camera.

J. RIEGER
: Give up? Smart boy. You wouldn’t even make it to the –

Mr. Bauer suddenly runs toward the hallway, but does not head toward the front door.

J. RIEGER
: You moron! The other way!
[laughs]
He makes it too easy. Tick-tock, time’s up!

Mr. Rieger follows Mr. Bauer into the bedroom, where the window is open. Mr. Rieger leans out the window. Mr. Bauer shimmies down the drainpipe. As he reaches the ground, he makes an obscene gesture before sprinting to the side of the building and disappearing from view.

J. RIEGER
: Firebug, I owe you an apology. What a sneaky little shit.

[00:06:27]

Christa Bauer cries on the couch in the living room of apartment 304.

J. RIEGER
: Of course you can accept it. It’s a gift. The camera focuses on a large-screen
TV
and an entertainment centre.

C. BAUER
: You bought this with blood money!

J. RIEGER
: Blood money? What are you talking about?

C. BAUER
: I’m sorry, honey, but you have to leave. I can’t have drugs in my house. How –

[00:07:05]

Guy Francis is in the driver’s seat. The camera flashes by him as it follows Mr. Bauer, who is on his black and yellow ten-speed bike. Mr. Bauer appears unaware that he is being followed as he weaves through downtown traffic.

[00:10:57]

Mr. Bauer rides on Low Level Road beside the railway tracks in North Vancouver. There are no houses along this stretch of road. Bauer rides east toward the Ironworker’s Memorial
[Second Narrows]
Bridge. Traffic is light. The reflective lights on Mr. Bauer’s pedals circle as they are spotlighted by the vehicle following him.

J. RIEGER
: Get closer.

G. FRANCIS
: He’ll make us.

J. RIEGER
: Bring me right beside him.

The vehicle pulls over to the side of the road.

J. RIEGER
: You’re losing him!

Mr. Bauer’s reflector lights disappear from view.

G. FRANCIS
: Don’t you think your aunt is going to go, “Hmm. I kicked Jer out yesterday and today Tom’s been squashed by a car.”

Mr. Rieger turns the camera on Mr. Francis.

G. FRANCIS
: Kick the shit out of him later. We need to move. Now. Before this gets any more fucked up than it is.

J. RIEGER
: Prioritize.

G. FRANCIS
: Prioritize.

J. RIEGER
: I don’t know why he makes me nuts.

G. FRANCIS
: Family does it to you every time.

[00:12:43]

Christa Bauer chews her nails. She realizes she’s being recorded and removes her fingers from her mouth. They are standing at the arrivals lounge of the Vancouver Airport.

J. RIEGER
: Relax. She’s checking up on me, not you. I’m the one with naughty friends.

C. BAUER
: Then why does she want to stay with me? Why doesn’t she stay with you in the hotel? She thinks this is my fault. Anything goes wrong and they all say, “Oh, that Chrissy.”

J. RIEGER
: You can’t let her ride you.

C. BAUER
: I hate to say this about my own flesh and blood, but sometimes I wish she’d – oh! Look! Faith! Yoo-hoo! Over here! Oh, my!

An attendant pushes Faith Rieger in a wheelchair up to Mr. Rieger and Ms. Bauer. Mrs. Rieger rises out of the wheelchair
slowly. Her tremors are more noticeable. She embraces Ms. Bauer, who cries. She then embraces her son.

FAITH RIEGER
: I’m so glad you’re both sober.

J. RIEGER
: Hello, Mother.

[00:13:39]

Ms. Bauer opens the oven door in the kitchen of apartment 304. She checks her roast.

C. BAUER
: Go knock on the bathroom door and tell Tommy to hurry.

J. RIEGER
: Will do.

Mr. Rieger passes the hallway and pokes the camera in the living room. Mrs. Rieger is watching television.

J. RIEGER
: How’re we holding up?

F. RIEGER
: Are you sure you don’t need any help?

J. RIEGER
: We’ve got it covered. Sit, sit.

A hand knocks on the bathroom door. The sound of the shower can be heard.

J. RIEGER
: Rear in gear, buddy. Chow time!

C. BAUER
: The corn, Jeremy! Not the creamed stuff!

J. RIEGER
: Got it, Aunt Chrissy!

[00:14:52]

Two patrol officers stand in the hallway of apartment 304.
VPD
constables Daniel Hanson and Edward Roglaski are recorded together and then individually.

J. RIEGER
: I’m recording this now!

F. RIEGER
: Jeremy, calm down.

J. RIEGER
: I can’t believe you’re just standing there when someone stole my Jaguar!

DANIEL HANSON
: Mr. Rieger, we’ve done everything we can do right now. We have –

J. RIEGER
: No! Dust for prints! Canvass the neighbourhood! Do something!

D. HANSON
: Mr. Rieger –

J. RIEGER
: Could you be more useless? Could you try and be more useless?

Mrs. Rieger appears in front of the camera. She brings her hand up to cover the lens.

F. RIEGER
: That’s enough, Jeremy.

[00:15:56]

The camera is at waist-level and approaches a Caucasian male, late-twenties with long brown hair who wears a black leather vest over a black T-shirt with a toxic symbol in neon green on the front. He sits at a table in a bar. A hand reaches out and puts a pitcher of beer on the table.

UNIDENTIFIED MALE
: Hey, thanks.

J. RIEGER
[off-camera]
: No problem. What was his name again?

UNIDENTIFIED MALE
: He was pretty drunk. Wilber or Willy or something. He’s got a twin, though, who’s got the same tattoo, right here
[points to his neck]
.

J. RIEGER
: What else did he say?

UNIDENTIFIED MALE
: Bunch of horseshit. Your boy’s having a fine old time. Buying drinks for the ladies, cabbing it everywhere.

J. RIEGER
: So you’re sure about this address?

UNIDENTIFIED MALE
: Your car is gone, man. Take the insurance and ride, baby, cause that Jag is toast.

[00:17:19]

The 1992 silver Jaguar XJS has been gutted. It sits in what appears to be a chop shop. To the left is a partially dismantled red Lamborghini. The camera examines the remains of the Jaguar.

[00:20:41]

The roof of a corrugated aluminum-sided industrial building burns against the night sky. The sound of footsteps on gravel grows louder and then stops.

G. FRANCIS
: Our thief’s name is Willy Baker.

J. RIEGER
: Address?

G. FRANCIS
: 1334 Woodcourt Street, apartment 206. Coincidence?

Emergency vehicles can be heard approaching.

J. RIEGER
: Shall we be neighbourly?

[00:21:49]

Paulina Mazenkowski waves the camera away as she laughs. Guy Francis shakes his head and laughs. They are in an unfinished basement.

J. RIEGER
: It’s not funny. This isn’t funny, guys.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Not to you.

G. FRANCIS
: I warned you, Jer. I hate to say I told you so, but sometimes you just have to. I told you so.

J. RIEGER
: I don’t understand how he could do that.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Yeah, who knew he had balls.

G. FRANCIS
: Tom’s a gutless wonder. He got this piece of shit to do his dirty work.

The camera swings over to a Caucasian male, late teens/early twenties, shaved head, and a large, red dragon tattoo on the right side of his neck. He is tied to a weight-lifting chair with white rope. His shirt has been removed. He is bleeding at the nose, mouth, and ears.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Not so tough now, are you, Willy?

She strikes him on the side of the head.

J. RIEGER
: Pace yourself.

Ms. Mazenkowski blows a kiss at the camera.

[00:27:39]

Tom Bauer sits on the stone steps of an unidentified building. The camera views him from below. He is smoking a marijuana cigarette.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Have you seen Jeremy lately?

T. BAUER
: Nope.
[pause]
You can do better, way better.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: I can, huh?

T. BAUER
: Shit, yeah. Even Shane was better than Jeremy, man.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Shane was an asshole.

T. BAUER
: I’ll take asshole over homicidal any day.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: What’d he do?

T. BAUER
: Man, let’s get off Jeremy.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Now you got me curious.

T. BAUER
: You want another one?

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Sure.

Mr. Bauer lights up a marijuana cigarette and hands it to Ms. Mazenkowski. The streetlight flickers on above them.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Do you need a ride anywhere?

T. BAUER
: I’ve got my bike.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: We can put it in my trunk.
[pause]
Least I can do if I’m going to crash at your place.

They finish the marijuana cigarette. The camera faces forward, bouncing as they walk.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Home, James?

T. BAUER
: You don’t have to. You really don’t.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: There’s my car.

They walk toward a dark brown 1970s model four-door Chevrolet Cavalier.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Let me pop the trunk.

Mr. Bauer loads his bike into the trunk and shuts it. The camera points toward the dashboard. The sound of a door opening can be heard.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Don’t slam it too hard or it’ll fall off.

The door squeals closed. Ms. Mazenkowski turns the radio on to a classic rock station.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: I need a Slushie. Do you mind?

T. BAUER
: Nah.

The engine starts and then stalls.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Fuck.

T. BAUER
: I can double you.

Ms. Mazenkowski laughs again. The engine starts and then stalls two more times before it starts.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: If I can get my car started, you want to come to a party on Friday?

T. BAUER
: Sure.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Hey, Grandpa Sunday!
[honks]
Pick a lane!

UNIDENTIFIED MALE
: Up yours!

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Fucking dink in his fucking lame-ass bug.
[honks]
Turn already!
[honks]

UNIDENTIFIED MALE
: Get bent!

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Jesus on a crapper.

T. BAUER
: I don’t think we should – holy fuck!

The tires squeal and other cars honk.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: That’s better.
[The engine stops]
You coming in?

T. BAUER
: Let me squish my guts back down my throat first.

Ms. Mazenkowski laughs. The camera is jostled and then the recording stops.

[00:37:20]

Jeremy Rieger removes Tom Bauer’s jacket. Mr. Bauer struggles to get away. They appear to be in an attic with dark wood panelling. A bare bulb hangs from the middle of the ceiling. The only other furniture is a bed. Mr. Rieger then removes Mr. Bauer’s shirt. The camera is bumped continually.

J. RIEGER
: I think you’d better leave.

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: I want my stuff.

Mr. Rieger releases Mr. Bauer, who staggers toward the door.

J. RIEGER
: Christ. What’s the matter with him?

P. MAZENKOWSKI
: Gave him some stuff.

Mr. Rieger grabs Ms. Mazenkowski by the hair.

J. RIEGER
: You stupid bitch. I wanted him sober.

The camera rocks as they struggle, bumping into the tripod. Ms. Mazenkowski also appears to be intoxicated. Mr. Rieger
throws her to the floor and kicks her in the head three times. Mr. Bauer is struggling with the door, which appears to be locked. Ms. Mazenkowski remains curled on the floor.

Mr. Rieger reaches into a duffle bag and removes a pair of handcuffs. He pauses and looks at the camera. He reaches toward the camera and the recording stops.