Joel (2018) Script

Hey Joel, as Detective Reese was saying I'm detective Moretti. Nice to officially meet you.

So your current address is still that 146 Evergreen Lane?

Yes.

You Live there alone?

No It's, I live with my mother. It's my mother's house.

I see. Can I ask you a question?

Shoot. Why did they try to pull me over?

The Patrolman noticed that your truck didn't have a license plate.

I've been monkeying around with that plate all week. Must've fell off.

It's always a twenty-five cent part isn't it? It's just my luck.

Joel, about what we found in the back of your truck.

Do you know the girl's name?

Oh, I don't know her real name.

I've seen her around here and there, I picked her up in Manhattan and took her back here.

Things didn't go so well though, so I strangled her.

So things didn't go well.

Yeah I guess it's like that tag on my truck...

It's not my lucky week.

Joel, I get the feeling this isn't the first time that things haven't gone well.

Yeah you're right.

So tell me, how many victims do you have?

I mean ballpark, more than one, less than five?

Less than twenty.

Twenty.

It's seventeen.

It's definitely seventeen.

Seventeen?

I guess so.

Hey, do you think I need a lawyer?

Where are you from Joel?

I grew up in Long Island.

Kids at school called me "The Turtle" because of my posture.

They'd steal my books, kick me down the stairs, all that bullshit.

After a while I figured out it was best to keep to myself.

It turned out okay actually, I had enough to keep occupied.

I liked to collect different types of rock.

Limestone, asphalt, all types of sedimentary rock.

I'd also collect different types of wood, special fibers.

I think I got the habit from my mother.

She was a real outdoors type.

She loved gardening.

I'd help her all the time with her gardening.

That was a big passion that we both shared.

That and photography.


Every once and a while I'd get a magazine with dirty pictures or see a dirty movie.

You knew your weren't supposed to be watching but you can't help yourself.

Looking back on it I don't think they were that bad for me.

When I was really young I thought those poses were just funny.

When I got a little older, I guess I started taking it more seriously.

They were just somebody else's fantasies.

Some of them were kind of artistic, too.

Like the ones where the girls were tied up and punished.

It made me start having my own fantasies...

I started dreaming about Amazon women fighting to the death...

I would decide who would live and die.

These fantasies made me feel real good.


When I got to High School it didn't get much better.

When I was older they found out I had a learning disability.

It took me hours to finish my homework.

It really disappointed my dad.

He was a structural engineer with a son who couldn't pass High School Algebra, humiliating.

I was the butt of everyone's jokes.

I'd be lucky if my head wasn't being dunked in the toilet or my camera stolen.

I'm taking all the pictures for our yearbook and these jokers steal my camera, ridiculous.

I wasn't even invited to the yearbook party.

That probably hurt the most, no respect.

I figured before I went to College I should lose my virginity.

The only way I knew that was to hire a girl.

So one night I drove into the city and started looking for one.

I was hooked.

If I'd known it was so easy I would've done it years earlier.

It was convenient too. I didn't even have to leave my car while it was happening.

It was the ultimate pleasure.

I went to the community college and did some odd jobs around town.

None of that mattered.

I spent every second on the streets looking for girls.

If I got paid on thursday or friday I'd be asking be for gas money the next monday.

It didn't matter if I had fifty or a thousand dollars in my pocket.

Whatever I had, I'd spend it all.


When I was older I saw this movie by Alfred Hitchcock, Frenzy, about these necktie murders Oh Barbara, you're about to see a side of me you've never seen before!

You're such a lucky girl! Hahaha so very very lucky!!!

What are you doing Harold? Why are you doing this?

Oh Barbara, you're such a pretty girl! Now you must die!

Harold! Ahh!

From then on my fantasies were all about strangling.

In my fantasies there was always this girl being strangled.

She wasn't fighting or nothing.

She was just letting it happen.

She was letting this guy choke the life out of her body.

Then she just hit the ground like she was asleep.

Even before I did anything about it, I would imagine what it would be like if it wasn't a fantasy What if it was real?

I'd kept pulling it back though, Like the fantasy was just a tape I could go back to.

I could have both the fantasy and real thing, but separate.

My dad got prostate cancer, and I guess one day he couldn't take the pain.

He swallowed a bottle of pills and ended up in a coma.

Hey Dad.

I just wanted to drop by.

I don't know if you can here what I'm saying, I'm just talking because the doctors say you might hear me.

Look, I want to show you something.

These are the grades from my biology class.

Remember you'd pay for a full semester if I got a B or higher?

Look at that score, huh?

That's 90!

I just zipped through the test too and I finished with 90!

I'm like the fourth person from the highest in the whole class!

Yeah well, what does it matter anyway?

One less disappointment, one more disappointment, guess that's all my life adds up to.

One big disappointment.

Is that why you did it?

You just couldn't take anymore?

You always have to have the last word, don't you?

I don't know if he was too far gone to hear me or ignore me as usual. He was always good at that.

So I haven't seen you around? Are you new?

I knew something was wrong but I couldn't stop

I guess I was just thinking with the wrong head.

Before I could wise up it was too late.

Somehow I managed to keep my mom from finding out about the bust.

It wasn't fun but I guess it could've been worse.

It didn't stop me from looking for girls, though.

One time I met this girl who said she had an apartment we could go to.

She took my money, went inside, then said she had to wait for her grandmother to go asleep.

I ended waiting outside that door for almost an hour.


I had girls running games down me all the time.

I guess that's one of the reasons the first murder went down.

It was just like any other night. My mom was on vacation for a month and I was alone at the house.

I figured I'd pick up a girl and take them back for the night, nothing unusual about that.

She was the first to approach me that night Her name was Star. We worked a deal and that was that. She was mine.

I have a place that we could stay at for the night and uh...

I was thinking like you could stay the whole night.

That's cool man, if the money's right up for anything!

Do you think we could, um stop at my friend's place first, I just gotta pickup something first... it 's uh, not very far I promise.

Yeah.

Ok, so you're going to go straight ahead, and then...

Ok, so you're going to go straight ahead, and then... First thing you learn about these girls is that it's all about that narcotic fix.

First thing you learn about these girls is that it's all about that narcotic fix.

That's their main drive.

With this girl Star, she was a shooter.

I didn't even think about bringing her back to my mom's house.

The neighbors were already used to me coming home at all hours of the night and working on my cars in the front yard.

It was no big deal to take people there, especially when my mom wasn't around.


I need to use the restroom, where is it?

It's down the hall on the left.

Of course, this is three or four hours since she's shot up so she's got to shoot up again.


Whether she knew it or not, she was doing everything to push my buttons.

Every she was doing to me was aggravating me, pushing me.

It was pushing me toward something she had no idea about...

Is there anywhere we can score? We gotta go now.

Did you here me? We gotta go, get your coat, we gotta go, do you know a place? There's gotta be a place!

Alright you wanna go? Let's go!

It was a souvenir artillery shell I'd picked up at the flea market.


Ah!!! Fuck!!!


When I woke up I wasn't sure If I'd really done it or if it was all a dream.

At that point, I was in disposal mode.

My line of thought was to cut the body into as many pieces as possible.

My line of thought was to cut the body into as many pieces as possible. And each piece goes into a different place, and the whole body just disappears.

And each piece goes into a different place, and the whole body just disappears.

It's just like carving a turkey.

I just cut through the muscles and skinand cartilage and then popped the bone.

It took me a while, but I was able to get her head off.

There actually wasn't much blood. Once the heartstops pumping the blood thicken, coagulates together.

I didn't know this stuff before, trade secrets I guess.


For some reason I got real worried about dental records, so I decided to pull her teeth and dump them separately.


In one location I threw out legs.

I went somewhere else and threw out the head.

And then I threw the arms and torso into the river.

Police are looking for any clues in connection to severed body parts which were found on monday... a head belonging to an unknown white female in her mid twenties was discovered by groundskeepers at the Regal National Golf Course...


I started getting really agitated after they found that head.

For about a month, I kept checking the cars outside the house, making sure there weren't any undercover patrols.

I kept going out and picking up girls but I always did everything in the car.

Never in a hotel room or at home.

That way I could make sure it would never happen again. What was done was done.

I was finished.

That was just a video I could go back to and rewatch, but, that's all it was.

I found this girl Jamie strolling under a bridge. My mom was on another long vacation.


It was just another night.

We were hanging out, watcing TV together like a friend just staying over.

Things started turn out bad when I tried to withdraw some extra money for her at the ATM.

I'd made a deposit earlier that week, and I knew the money was in there.

We decided to come back to my house and come back to the bank in two hours when it opened.

Hey, it's been two hours already let's go!

I'm almost sure that if that money had come out of that machine that she'd still be alive today.

After I knocked out number two, I felt like I needed to practice what it felt like to strangle someone.

Many years after this I would find out that there's more than one way to kill someone by strangling.

The first away is that you cut off their air supply, their brain runs out of oxygene and they die.

Then there's a second way... much faster... you squeeze their carotid artery and cut off blood flow to the brain.

They fall unconscious immediately and die much quicker.

When I started with number two I didn't know any of this.

Strangling is easy in theory but, when you get your hands around a real person it's difficult to figure out what you need to do.

Strangling is easy in theory but, when you get your hands around a real person it's difficult to figure out what you need to do. I don't know if what I did was very quick or effective.

I don't know if what I did was very quick or effective.

What I do know is that by the time I'd finished strangling, she'd stopped breathing and she never woke up.

My mom wasn't coming home for a few days so I figured I'd take some time to figure out what my next move would be.

I fell out into a deep sleep for a few hours.

When I woke up I had my plan.


I dismembered her in the same way as the first one.

Then I put the parts into plaster.

I couldn't fit the torso into plaster so I stuck that in a milk crate and that went into the river.

I knew by the time I got to number three that I was in trouble.

I also knew that if I tried to talk to anybody about it they'd just throw me in prison.

How do you get treatment for something like this if anytime you try to speak out they throw you in jail?

You want it to stop, don't you?

Why don't try to help people with their problems so they don't kill more people?

I'd already been interested in true crime, but after the third one I thought I should make a study of what other killers were doing.

Maybe I might find some way to channel what I was doing.

Maybe I could find a way to stop it.

I think I ended following a lot of what Green River did.

If he did them in bunch, I would do them in bunches.

He started dumping them in the river so I dumped them in rivers, things like that.

Some things you read about, you think about what it means to you and it either makes sense or it doesn't make sense.

A lot of what he was doing seemed to make sense to me.

Another thing that the kept talking about with these killers was that they kept souvenirs.

Even before I read that, I'd been keeping things, but reading about what everyone else did made me want to do it more.

That seemed to make sense, all these girls would carry around purse filled with all kinds of junk.

Because they never knew where they were going to flop out next.

Because they never knew where they were going to flop out next. Keep the stuff was another way of keeping that videotape fresh in my head.

Keep the stuff was another way of keeping that videotape fresh in my head.

I don't think I saved something from every girl, but I'd say I kept something from most of them.


A couple of times I thought about having sex with the bodies.

You read about the guys like Ted Bundy doing stuff like that and you think it might be something interesting to do.

There was a moment with number two where I thought I might, but that passed real quick.

That's just too sick to even think about.

I don't even know how someone can do that.


She said her name was Macy.

She seemed a little different.

Nicer.

She was smoking crack all night.

I started to get caught in this scam where I was driving her to all these places to get high.

All the while I was paying money for her to get high.


The more this kept going, the more I felt like a total idiot.

I spent almost two-hundred bucks on her drugs before we even had sex.

Finally I managed to get her to go to a hotel but things just get worse.


God, why are you crying?

I hate my life!

I just got out of rehab two weeks ago and I'm already getting stoned.

My life is fucked!

I just want to fucking die!

I just want to fucking die right now!

Do you really want to die?

Yes!

Fine!


She was one of the weird ones. She didn't even put up a fight.

She just accepted it. It's like she was ready to die.

As soon as I finished I started to feel those nerves again.

My thought was, two people come into the hotel, two people have to come out.

And the hotel manager's got my car on closed circuit camera.

He's got my license plate number on the receipt for the room. I had to be careful.


First, I've got to get the body out of the room.

I ended up driving around all night and into the morning while I was thinking of how to get that body out.

I ended up at this garbage dump behind this building.

I started dreaming of these crazy schemes where I could get the body into the dumpster.

First I needed to get it out of the room.

I started thinking of that movie Frenzy, where the guy hides the body in the trunk.

It seemed like a good way to get the body out of the room, and I could tell the manager I was moving upstate with all my possessions.


I did end up driving upstate.

I found a park and dumped the body off behind some trees.

The next few weeks were normal again. I had a bunch of dates but I didn't hurt anyone.

Every time I had sex I thought about it though.

But that wasn't unusual.

There were always those fantasies about strangling every girl I ever had even before I started killing them.

It was just my thing.

I guess the impulse got more natural think about when I started acting on those fantasies.


I was a regular customer of number five. I really liked her.

I never had a problem with her before, very sweet girl.

When I started strangling her, she tried to tell me something.

She couldn't really talk, but she kind of mouthed the words.

Something about making a big mistake or something like that.

I couldn't tell whether she was trying to beg for her life or threaten me.

I guess it doesn't matter.


I still that this trunk from the earlier murder stashed in a storage unit I owned...

I still that this trunk from the earlier murder stashed in a storage unit I owned... so I went over to the unit, dumped the new body in the trunk then I decided to dump the body at this lake I found off the highway. so I went over to the unit, dumped the new body in the trunk then I decided to dump the body at this lake I found off the highway.

I don't even know why I did that one.

She was never any trouble.

I'm still puzzled about that one.


I took a few months off after that one.

But a few days before Christmas, I decided to pick up another date.

Number six I don't remember much about.

I don't remember her name.


With a few of the later ones I'd prop them up in the passenger seat and drive them around to where I needed to go to get rid of them.

One time I even drop to a gas station and went into prepay while had one of them sitting in the trunk.

I know it's hard to understand, but...

I know it's hard to understand, but... after each one of these things I'd get into what I like to call my... after each one of these things I'd get into what I like to call my...

Logical Phase... when I'm focused on disposal.

And making them disappear.

I didn't think of them as dead bodies.

They were just things that needed to disappear.

After the soul leaves the body it's just dead weight, right?

I remember number seven happened the day after Christmas.

I cancelled my Pinochle game so I could go out to the streets.

I don't remember much. The tape's a little fuzzy on this one.


After I dumped her off I started going through her purse.

After I dumped her off I started going through her purse. I found out she had a prescription for AZT, so she must've had AIDS.

I found out she had a prescription for AZT, so she must've had AIDS.

I kept it as a souvenir.


When I was younger I used to feel stressed about getting Herpes or Gonhorea.

I remember one time, when I got all these large round lesions all over me.

I remember one time, when I got all these large round lesions all over me. I used to get them in the back of my throat and I couldn't swallow, very painful.

I used to get them in the back of my throat and I couldn't swallow, very painful.

I'd be laying in bed for days with a hundred degree temperature.

The doctor would give me Penicillin and Codeine and I'd be knocked out for two or three days.

Then for about a year I was misdiagnosed with Hepatitis-C.

I went to one of these free clinics and they screwed up my blood test and said I was positive.

I think that also fueled my anger at these girls because for a year I had that hanging over me.

I think that also fueled my anger at these girls because for a year I had that hanging over me. That thought that I had to live with this disease for the rest of my life.

That thought that I had to live with this disease for the rest of my life.

I was more upset about Hepatitis than AIDS.

If the girl felt better that I wore a condom then I'd wear one but it was no big deal to go without one.

Most of the time they didn't give a shit.

These girls didn't care about what disease they were getting or giving out to their dates... just as long as they kept getting that money and getting the drugs.

The more I think about it, the more it makes me sick.

One time I had a date with what I would call a Pro's Pro.

Half the time she was out on the street, I couldn't even tell if she was working.

The story with her was that she mostly worked with call agencies or brothels, but...

The story with her was that she mostly worked with call agencies or brothels, but... she worked the streets when calls dried up and she needed some extra cash. she worked the streets when calls dried up and she needed some extra cash.


I'm not down with that kinky shit!

I'm not your girlfriend! I'm out here doing a job!

Drop me back off!

Seat belt.

I had a part time job at a liquor store that I was supposed to be at, but I blew that to go prowling around looking for a date.

I found this one girl and found a place out in the projects where we could park.


When I got home, my mom was yelling at me about the job.

She said my boss had already called three times.

My boss was pretty pissed because they had a line backed out the door.

I was already exhausted but I still went back into work and finished out the rest of my day.


Hey, what's your name?

What?

I said what's your name?

It's Kerrie, you idiot!

Oh goodness!

Wait a minute!


Shit!

I bent up the shifter while I was struggling with her and the car wouldn't go into drive.

I bent up the shifter while I was struggling with her and the car wouldn't go into drive. Son of a...

Son of a...

God damnit... God damnit!

God damnit... God damnit! Fuck!

Fuck!

I eventually got the shift bent back and made it out of there, but that was a close one.

Number thirteen, another weird one.

God damnit!


She was the toughest one to kill.

She scratched me up pretty bad before I could get to her.


She was the only one I buried.

Rigor mortis must've sprung her hand up because I buried her... not deep enough I guess.

Police are still searching for any evidence in relation to the discovery two weeks ago... of a body in an East Long Island park.

Authorities say the unidentified woman's body was discovered by a group of hikers on a nature walk in the area.

Authorities say the unidentified woman's body was discovered by a group of hikers on a nature walk in the area. These hikers found what appeared to be a woman's hand, which lead investigators to unearth a half-decayed body buried in a shallow grave.

These hikers found what appeared to be a woman's hand, which lead investigators to unearth a half-decayed body buried in a shallow grave.

Immediately I started getting aroused when I saw her.

I knew who she was. I'd already seen her performing a sex show on Eighth Avenue.

Just hang on a second.

Goddamnit... just hang on, one minute.

You okay?


Fuck you!

Godamnit!


Then I'm driving on the highway back home with this bodyin the back seat.

I'm passing all kinds of places where I could dump this body off but I'm not going to any of them.

With most of these girls I'm disposing of them within an hour of picking them up.

I'm with this one, I'm flying down the main highway with all these high trucks and buses.

None of this makes sense.

It's a total lack of logic.

Instead of getting rid of the body I decided to stash it in the garage because I had some work to do on the truck.


I'd got so into working on the truck over the weekend that I left the body in the garage.

I just didn't have the energy to deal with it.

I just kept focusing on the truck.

Also, by this point I'd already been up about three days without any sleep so things are starting to get cloudy.

By the time I got a plan together to dump the body it was already rotten.

Thankfully I remembered that trick from the movie Silence of the Lambs, where that guy puts Noxema under his nose to help with the smell.

That seemed to work really well.


Right now I'm in logical mode... just dealing with the smell... moving forward... thinking about these woods near the airport where I can drop off this package.

Disposal mode.

Maintaining control... looking out for obstacles, road blocks... I'm doing the speed limit... nothing to see here, move along...


I heard something fall off the back of the truck and I was sure it was a wrench or something.

I was working on these truck all weekend and I had my tools all over the place.

Later on I realized it was my license plate falling off.


I don't even have my driver's license and registration with me.

On top of that, the minute they pull this truck over they're going to smell that body.

I don't have any choice but to run.


I'm trying to keep logical.

Keep the vehicle on the road.

Get to the water, dump the truck in the water and then climb out and hide under the pier in the water for a few hours while they look for me.

Keep them guessing, keep them looking for...

I don't blame anyone else.

Ultimately I did it to myself.

If it wasn't number seventeen I would've eventually screwed something up with the next one or the one after and got caught.

I had a plan to quit.

Just before I got caught, I was about to see a realtor about some land in West Virginia.

I figured I'd go down there, do my Unabomber thing, keep to myself.

I guess it never would've worked out.

Sometimes I wake up spooked about something but, otherwise this place isn't so bad.

The day has a rhythm. You just go with it.

The worst thing on the mainline is that I get hassled to sign something.

People think anything with a serial killer's name on it is worth money.

After a few year of taking antidepressents in prison my mind began to change.

It was kind of like a window into my own thoughts began to clear up, where before it was all hazy.

I think about what I did.

Sometimes I think about the girls.

I think about where they'd be if they'd lived.

Would they still be hitting the pipe? Would they be straightened out?

For some reason that matters to me.

I guess neither of us really had a choice.

For me it was easy. I liked killing them.

And for them it was their job to get into stranger's cars.

I guess it just finally just caught up to both of us.