MONK: Like with Josef Odeh?
RENSCHEL (nodding): I’ll give you credit, Monk, you do your homework.
MONK: Like I said, I try.
EXT. WILSHIRE BOULEVARD-CONTINUOUS
{Kagen and Monk walk away from Renschel’s office building and toward the latter’s fully restored cobalt blue ’64 Ford Galaxie parked at a meter.}
KAGEN: This Odeh I gather is a leader in the Arab Community?
MONK: Yeah, he’s considered a moderate, particularly compared to your boy.
{Monk hooks a thumb in the direction of the AJA office.}
KAGEN: So why do we need to talk to him?
MONK: It’s pretty fascinating what you can find on-line added to some old-fashioned working the phones, Walsh. One of the service organizations Odeh sat on the board of was caught up in the Justice Department net around the hawala method of money laundering to the Al Qaeda. {Monk unlocks the car and the two get in.}
INT. ’64 FORD GALAXIE
{Monk cranks the car to life and pulls away from the curb.}
KAGEN: So this charity was a front that skimmed off money to the terrorist network?
MONK: That seems to be unclear. But the point is that Odeh was tainted and did some back-peddling. He proclaimed he knew nothing of money transferring, etcetera. He wasn’t arrested, but I bet he’s been under watch.
KAGEN: But he could be jiving, and he really was part of some scheme to move funds.
MONK: Something like that.
KAGEN: You gonna be more objective this time?
{Monk lets some silence drag.}
MONK: You’re right, Walsh, I was being unprofessional. I’ll be on point.
{Kagen winks at him.}
EXT. ’64 FORD GALAXIE: DAY
The car zooms along.
EXT. MASJID AL-FALAH ISLAMIC CENTER,
INGLEWOOD: DAY
{Monk and Kagen walk up the steps of the Center and stop at a locked door where there’s an intercom.}
CU
{intercom as Monk bends to it and pushes the button to speak.}
MONK (into intercom): Hi, I’m Ivan Monk with Walsh Kagen to see Jabari Hatoom. I had an appointment.
WIDEN
{Monk lets go of the button and the door BUZZES. Kagen opens the door.}
INT. MASJID AL-FALAH ISLAMIC CENTER-
CONTINUOUS
{Monk and Kagen stand in a foyer. A twentysomething east Indian woman, SUNAR, in her hijab-head covered, long dress-comes out to greet them. As is the custom, she does not offer her hand.}
SUNAR: Gentlemen, this way.
{Monk and Kagen follow the young woman past a spacious worship area with a podium, classrooms, and into a spotless stainless steel kitchen off a well-lit hallway.}
INT. KITCHEN-DAY
{Monk and Kagen are ushered in by Sunar who departs. JABARI HATOOM is African American, tall, balding, early thirties, and dressed in slacks and a shirt with his sleeves rolled up. He has the garbage disposal unit out and on a table, working on it with a screwdriver. He smiles upon seeing Monk.}
HATOOM: Homeboy.
{Hatoom puts down his screwdriver and embraces the P.I.}
MONK: Glad you could see us.
{They disengage. Monk indicates Kagen.}
MONK (cont’d): This is Walsh Kagen.
HATOOM (shaking the director’s hand): Man, what a pleasure. You don’t know how many times I’ve seen The Plunderers and One Deadly Night.
KAGEN: That’s flattering. And how is it you know Ivan?
HATOOM: He busted me.
{Kagen regards Monk.}
MONK: Long time ago, when I used to do bounty hunting.
KAGEN (to Hatoom): And you converted in prison?
HATOOM: Exactly.
MONK: Will you set up a meeting for us with Odeh?
{Hatoom is uncomfortable.}
HATOOM: I have not made the call.
MONK: I know it’s hard, Jabari, but you know good and well it’s the Muslim community that has to step up if there’s an extremist running around.
HATOOM: Is that just another way to say we have to be good, shuffling handkerchief heads? Being a Muslim is not synonymous with being a terrorist, Ivan. And depending on the political winds, freedom fighters become rebels become evil-doers.
MONK: Odeh put himself in the mix, Jabari.
KAGEN: What am I missing here?
{Hatoom and Monk exchange a look.}
HATOOM: Odeh demanded and got a meeting with Alan Ross two days ago.
KAGEN: Does everybody read that Journal rag?
HATOOM: A possible movie about bin Laden that would invariably put our community in a bad light was bound to draw attention, especially in these times.
KAGEN: But that’s the point; my idea is ultimately that the film is about tolerance. I’ll admit I’m exploiting bin Laden because, well, frankly, like any out-size madman, he’s great pulp material. I’m not a student of Sam Fuller and was an A.D. on a couple of Frankenheimer’s films for nothing. Look guys, great villains and the horrors they commit make powerful statements about us. From King Leopold and the Congo to Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge as depicted in The Killing Fields… that’s show biz, fellas.
HATOOM: The meeting deteriorated, and Odeh, from what I understand, was removed by security.
KAGEN (to Monk): And you found this out by calling around?
[Monk shrugs.]
KAGEN (cont’d): Some Rolodex. Sam L. Jackson or Ving Rhames for sure, Monk. The best is what you deserve.
MONK: Lovely. Look, Jabari, you know damn well I’m not going to be part of an attempt to railroad Odeh or anybody else. But somebody tossed those hot totties.
HATOOM: And the Molotov is the Intifada favorite?
MONK: Maybe it’s a set-up or it was done to send a message and a signature.
HATOOM: You’ve already made up your mind.
MONK: I’m suspicious by inclination, not vindictive, man. It comes down to this, you want it to be only the FBI that gets to talk to Odeh?
HATOOM: You drive a hard mule, Mr. Monk.
MONK: Make the call, will you, Jabari?
HATOOM: Okay. But I’m not promising anything.
MONK: Understood.
{The two shake hands again.}
CUT TO:
INT. ’64 FORD GALAXIE-DAY
{Monk and Kagen drive away and Kagen’s cell phone RINGS.}
KAGAN (clicking on phone): Hello? (he listens, then:) Thanks, Mina. We’ll swing by there to see him.
{He clicks off the phone, and over this says to Monk:}
KAGEN: That was my assistant. She’s got a friend over at Cedars. Alan is awake and lucid, and the cops don’t know it yet.
EXT. ’64 FORD GALAXIE