ANN
Oh look, that’s terrible.

MARK
He’s not hurting anyone.

ANN
Neither are we. Oh God. Every time I see one of those old guys, I-I always think the same thing.

MARK
What do you think?

ANN
I always think that he was once somebody’s baby boy...and he had a mother and a father who loved him. And now, there he is, half-dead on a park bench and where is his mother or his father or his uncles now? Anyway, that’s what I always think.

Inside the van with tinted windows, the undercover group’s command center, HARRY’s assistant STANLEY is seated at a workbench over a row of reel-to-reel tape recorders - monitoring the couple’s transmitted conversation from two opposing positions - one next to the CITY PARIS sign and another with a parabolic reflector from an open office window.

Catching a glimpse of the man with the hearing aide and shopping bag, Ann becomes momentarily suspicious that they are being followed. She moves closer to the street musicians on bongos, hoping that their chatter will be inaudible to anyone else.

In the van, PAUL speculates: “I got some good pieces, maybe 25 percent.” When STANLEY asks HARRY about their operation, he flatly responds that he doesn’t show curiosity, or care about and question what he is doing.

STANLEY
Who’s interested in these two, anyway?

HARRY
I don’t know for sure.

STANLEY
The Justice Department?

HARRY
No.

STANLEY
Then I figure it must be the Infernal Revenue. Their tapes always put me to sleep.

HARRY
Since when are you here to be entertained?

STANLEY
Sometimes it’s nice to know what they’re talking about.

HARRY
I don’t care what they’re talking about. All I want is a nice fat recording.