8501cab146742babe04bc3984eb34409d97078a1
movie
http://www.imsdb.com/scripts/When-a-Stranger-Calls.html
WHEN A STRANGER
: THE END
 Jill Johnson (Carol Kane) is babysitting the children of Dr. Mandrakis (Carmen Argenziano) at their home. When the children are asleep, Jill receives a telephone call from a man who asks her if she has checked the children. At first, Jill dismisses the telephone calls as a practical joke. However, as the calls become more frequent and threatening, Jill becomes frightened and decides to call the police, who promise to trace the caller if Jill keeps him on the telephone line long enough. Jill, frightened to extreme measures, arms herself as she receives one final call from the nefarious stalker. Soon after the conversation, Jill receives a call from the police, only to find out that the stalker is calling from inside the house. A light comes on at the top of the staircase, and Jill sees the stalker's shadow. In a panic, she immediately runs to the door, unhooks the chain lock only to reveal a close-up of a detective when she screams. The camera then zooms out.
Afterwards, Officer John Clifford (Charles Durning) investigates the matter. It turns out that the children were murdered by the perp several hours earlier. The killer is identified as an English merchant seaman named Curt Duncan (Tony Beckley), and is subsequently sent to an asylum.
Seven years later, Duncan escapes from the asylum, still psychopathic. Dr. Mandrakis hires Clifford, now a private investigator to find Duncan. Not knowing Clifford is after him, Duncan is now a homeless, vagrant loner. He gets into a fight and is beaten after disturbing a middle-aged woman, Tracy (Colleen Dewhurst), in a tavern, and later follows her to her apartment. Feeling sorry for his disastrous appearance and for the fact that his attempts at conversation with her started the fight in the first place, Tracy makes light conversation with him. While they are in the doorway talking, Tracy's phone rings. As she goes to answer it, Duncan lets himself and appears behind her when she gets off the phone. She explicitly rebuffs his awkward proposal to visit her for coffee the next night, assuming or hoping it will be the last of him she will see.
Meanwhile an increasingly obsessed and vindictive Clifford, having confided to a former partner (Ron O'Neal) that his intention is to kill Duncan rather than arrest him, follows the trail to the tavern where the fight took place, then to Tracy's residenceâthe same night Duncan is likely to arrive for his visit. Clifford goes there and tells Tracy just how dangerous her situation has become, revealing that Duncan literally tore and hacked up Mandrakis' children with his bare hands, rendering them virtually unrecognizable. Tracy reluctantly accepts to be Clifford's bait at the tavern that evening, but Duncan does not arrive and she decides to return home. Clifford then leaves Tracy's place, but she is then attacked by Duncan, who was hiding in her closet. Tracy screams for help, and Clifford returns and chases Duncan away from the scene. In the streets of downtown Los Angeles, he loses Duncan's trail.
Jill Johnson is now an adult, married with two young children. One night, she and her husband Stephen go out to dinner in celebration of a promotion, and a friend named Sharon babysits her children. At the restaurant, Jill gets a telephone call from someone asking, "Have you checked the children?" Jill panics and calls Sharon. It appears that nothing is wrong at first, but then the call is suddenly disconnected. The police arrive and escort Jill back home and find that everything is fine. Clifford tries to call Jill, but finds that the line is disconnected. Jill and Stephen sleep. Later, Jill goes down for a glass of milk, when the lights suddenly go out. She goes back upstairs and returns to bed. She picks up the phone and discovers that the phone line is dead. The closet door opens a little, and she hears the voice of Curt Duncan. She tries to awaken Stephen, who turns around, revealing that it is actually Curt in the bed. He rips Jill's nightgown and chases her around the room. Clifford arrives and shoots Curt, killing him. Stephen is revealed to be in the closet, alive but seemingly unconscious. As Clifford comforts Jill, the last view is of the house, in view of the frightening eyes of Curt Duncan.
Jill Johnson ( Carol Kane ) is babysitting the children of Dr. Mandrakis ( Carmen Argenziano ) at their home . When the children are asleep , Jill receives a telephone call from a man who asks her if she has checked the children . At first , Jill dismisses the telephone calls as a practical joke . However , as the calls become more frequent and threatening , Jill becomes frightened and decides to call the police , who promise to trace the caller if Jill keeps him on the telephone line long enough . Jill , frightened to extreme measures , arms herself as she receives one final call from the nefarious stalker . Soon after the conversation , Jill receives a call from the police , only to find out that the stalker is calling from inside the house . A light comes on at the top of the staircase , and Jill sees the stalker s shadow . In a panic , she immediately runs to the door , unhooks the chain lock only to reveal a close-up of a detective when she screams . The camera then zooms out . Afterwards , Officer John Clifford ( Charles Durning ) investigates the matter . It turns out that the children were murdered by the perp several hours earlier . The killer is identified as an English merchant seaman named Curt Duncan ( Tony Beckley ) , and is subsequently sent to an asylum . Seven years later , Duncan escapes from the asylum , still psychopathic . Dr. Mandrakis hires Clifford , now a private investigator to find Duncan . Not knowing Clifford is after him , Duncan is now a homeless , vagrant loner . He gets into a fight and is beaten after disturbing a middle-aged woman , Tracy ( Colleen Dewhurst ) , in a tavern , and later follows her to her apartment . Feeling sorry for his disastrous appearance and for the fact that his attempts at conversation with her started the fight in the first place , Tracy makes light conversation with him . While they are in the doorway talking , Tracy s phone rings . As she goes to answer it , Duncan lets himself and appears behind her when she gets off the phone . She explicitly rebuffs his awkward proposal to visit her for coffee the next night , assuming or hoping it will be the last of him she will see . Meanwhile an increasingly obsessed and vindictive Clifford , having confided to a former partner ( Ron O'Neal ) that his intention is to kill Duncan rather than arrest him , follows the trail to the tavern where the fight took place , then to Tracy s residenceâthe same night Duncan is likely to arrive for his visit . Clifford goes there and tells Tracy just how dangerous her situation has become , revealing that Duncan literally tore and hacked up Mandrakis ' children with his bare hands , rendering them virtually unrecognizable . Tracy reluctantly accepts to be Clifford s bait at the tavern that evening , but Duncan does not arrive and she decides to return home . Clifford then leaves Tracy s place , but she is then attacked by Duncan , who was hiding in her closet . Tracy screams for help , and Clifford returns and chases Duncan away from the scene . In the streets of downtown Los Angeles , he loses Duncan s trail . Jill Johnson is now an adult , married with two young children . One night , she and her husband Stephen go out to dinner in celebration of a promotion , and a friend named Sharon babysits her children . At the restaurant , Jill gets a telephone call from someone asking , Have you checked the children ? Jill panics and calls Sharon . It appears that nothing is wrong at first , but then the call is suddenly disconnected . The police arrive and escort Jill back home and find that everything is fine . Clifford tries to call Jill , but finds that the line is disconnected . Jill and Stephen sleep . Later , Jill goes down for a glass of milk , when the lights suddenly go out . She goes back upstairs and returns to bed . She picks up the phone and discovers that the phone line is dead . The closet door opens a little , and she hears the voice of Curt Duncan . She tries to awaken Stephen , who turns around , revealing that it is actually Curt in the bed . He rips Jill s nightgown and chases her around the room . Clifford arrives and shoots Curt , killing him . Stephen is revealed to be in the closet , alive but seemingly unconscious . As Clifford comforts Jill , the last view is of the house , in view of the frightening eyes of Curt Duncan .
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/When_a_Stranger_Calls_(1979_film)
When a Stranger Calls (1979 film)
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<pre>


<b>                                  WHEN A STRANGER CALLS
</b>

                                       Written by

                                Steve Feke and Fred Walton



<b>                                                         SHOOTING DRAFT
</b>
<b>                
</b>
<b>               FADE IN:
</b>
<b>               EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - NIGHT
</b>
               A quiet upper-middle class neighborhood. The CAMERA is at 
               the curb, looking down the street. There are no sidewalks. 
               Trees arch overhead. CICADAS drone on the soundtrack.

               The OPENING TITLES briefly FADE IN and OUT, framed by the 
               trees on either side of the street. Footsteps are heard 
               approaching.

               As the picture TITLE FADES, out of the dark emerges a GIRL 
               17 years old, carrying schoolbooks. This is JILL. CAMERA 
               PANS with her ninety degrees as she comes to the front of a 
               house and stops.

               Lights are on in the bottom half of the house, and the 
               curtains across the windows are open. A single light burns 
               in the upper right side of the house, presumable in a bedroom, 
               but the curtains in the room are drawn.

               A scene TITLE appears on the lower half of the screen:

                               8 pm Tuesday, March 23, 1971

               The TITLE FADES, and Jill heads up the walk to the front 
               door of the house.

               The light in the upper floor of the house is turned off.

<b>               INT. HOUSE - FRONT HALL
</b>
               A middle-aged DOCTOR is standing at the foot of the stairs. 
               His WIFE is descending the stairs, putting on her earrings. 
               She is in an obvious hurry.

<b>                                     WIFE
</b>                         Where's the girl?

<b>                                     DOCTOR
</b>                         I only called her ten minutes ago --

<b>                                     WIFE
</b>                              (passing into living 
                              room)
                         I made our reservation for 8:15. 
                         We're going to be late.

               The doorbell rings.

<b>                                     DOCTOR
</b>                         Here she is now.

               He crosses to the front door and opens it. The girl smiles 
               at him uncomfortably from outside.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Dr. Minakis?

<b>                                     DOCTOR
</b>                         Mandrakis. It's okay. Everyone gets 
                         it wrong the first time. You're Jill? 
                         Come on in.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (entering)
                         Thank you.

               The wife comes back into the front hall.

<b>                                     WIFE
</b>                         I've written the number of the 
                         restaurant on the notepad by the 
                         phone.
                              (to Doctor)
                         Zip me up, will you please?
                              (to Jill)
                         If we aren't home in two hours, it 
                         means we've decided to go on to a 
                         movie and won't be back until after 
                         midnight. Is that all right?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Sure.

<b>                                     DOCTOR
</b>                              (helping wife on with 
                              her coat)
                         I've told my service to pick up any 
                         calls coming in to my office phone.

<b>                                     WIFE
</b>                         The children are asleep upstairs -- 
                         first door on your left at the top 
                         of the landing. They're both just 
                         getting over a cold -- so try not to 
                         wake them.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Okay.

<b>                                     WIFE
</b>                         Do you have any questions?

               Jill shakes her head.

<b>                                     WIFE
</b>                         We have to go now. We're late.

               They cross to the front door and begin to exit.

<b>                                     DOCTOR
</b>                         Make yourself at home. The 
                         refrigerator's loaded.

<b>                                     WIFE
</b>                              (pulling doctor through 
                              the door)
                         Goodbye.

               The doctor pokes his head back through the door.

<b>                                     DOCTOR
</b>                         We even have some low-fat yogurt.

<b>                                     WIFE (O.S.)
</b>                         Will you please come on!

<b>                                     DOCTOR
</b>                         Bye.

               The doctor pulls the door shut behind him. Jill turns toward 
               the living room. Pause. She walks into the living room and 
               sets her books down on a table with the telephone on it.

               O.S. we hear the car doors close, the engine start up, then 
               the car backing out the driveway and heading down the street.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. DINING ROOM - LATER
</b>
               It is dark. O.S. we hear the phone in the living room being 
               lifted off its receiver, a dial tone, then a number is dialed. 
               Pause, then ringing. CAMERA SLOWLY DOLLIES from the dining 
               room, across the front hall and into the living room where 
               we see Jill talking over the phone to a girlfriend, NANCY.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Hello?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Nancy?

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Hello, Jill? How's it going?
                              (out of phone)
                         I got it, Dad!
                              (beat)
                         Father!
                              (into phone again)
                         Jesus Christ! My father's in one of 
                         his moods again. Male menopause, you 
                         know. So how are you?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         All right.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Are you over at Dr. Mandrakis'?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Yeah, I've been here for about an 
                         hour already.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Isn't it a neat house?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I guess... I haven't looked around 
                         very much.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Did you see his kids?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No, they were asleep when I got here.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         They're really cute. So what can I 
                         do for you?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         You didn't happen to talk to Billy 
                         today, did you?

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Yeah, I talked to him.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Did he say anything about me?

               Pause.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         I don't know what you did to him, or 
                         said to him, or what... but he's 
                         really pissed off at you! What did 
                         you do?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         It's what I didn't do.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                              (sarcastic)
                         Yeah, I can imagine.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Do me a favor, Nance.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         What.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Do you think you'll be talking with 
                         Billy some time tonight?

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Prabably. I'm going to the library 
                         in a few minutes. I just have to get 
                         out of this house!
                              (beat)
                         Hey! Why don't Billy and I come over 
                         there? He'll come along if I tell 
                         him to.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         That isn't what I had in mind.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         You'll be safe with Billy. I'll be 
                         there. Come on.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Nancy, all you want to do is come 
                         over here and get drunk.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Who? Me?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (mimicking)
                         Who? Me?

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         You want to see Billy, don't you?!

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I've got a lot of work to do. I don't 
                         want you coming over!

               Long pause.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         You know what your problem is, Jill, 
                         is you're so straight. I really mean 
                         that. You go to a private school, 
                         you wear a bra. No one can have a 
                         good time with you!
                              (beat)
                         You know, Billy asked me to go out 
                         with him this weekend, and I was 
                         really really tempted because I like 
                         Billy... a lot... as much as you do. 
                         But I told him I couldn't, that I 
                         didn't think it was right because 
                         you were my friend --

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         You are my friend.

               Pause.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Yeah. I guess so.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Listen, just give Billy the number 
                         here, but don't tell him I told you 
                         to. Okay?

               Pause.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Okay. I've got to go now.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Okay, Nancy. Bye. And thank you.

<b>                                     NANCY (O.S.)
</b>                         Yeah. Bye.

               Jill makes a face at the phone and hangs up. She tries to go 
               back to her homework, but she cannot.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
</b>
               Jill is working now, diligently. The phone rings. She picks 
               it up.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello?

               There is a brief pause; then the line goes dead and a dial 
               tone cuts in. Jill hangs up and goes back to work.

               Pause.

               The phone rings again. Jill picks it up.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Billy?...

               A VOICE speaks on the other end of the phone.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Have you checked the children?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What?

               The line goes dead. Dial tone. Jill hangs up and goes right 
               back to work.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
</b>
               Jill sits at the table as before, doing her homework, smoking 
               a cigarette. The phone rings. Jill picks it up.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello?

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Have you checked the children?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Mrs. Mandrakis?

               The line goes dead. Dial tone. Jill hangs up and looks off 
               into space, thinking.

               O.S. we hear a faint rattling noise from somewhere in the 
               house. Jill hears it too. She stubs out her cigarette, gets 
               up from the table and walks out of the living room.

<b>               INT. HALLWAY
</b>
               Jill enters the hallway and pauses. Then she starts walking 
               slowly down the hall to the kitchen door.

               Again the rattling noise O.S., only louder this time. Jill 
               stops dead, listens, then continues forward even more 
               cautiously.

<b>               INT. KITCHEN
</b>
               As Jill enters. She cannot find the lightswitch, so she stands 
               in the darkness listening. Again the rattle, very close now. 
               Jill turns her head sharply, then walks to the refrigerator 
               and opens it. It is only the automatic icemaker creating the 
               rattle.

               Jill takes a piece of cake from the refrigerator and leaves 
               the kitchen.

<b>               INT. LIVING ROOM
</b>
               Jill is sitting at the table, polishing off the cake. Then, 
               the phone rings. Jill stands up quickly and picks up the 
               phone.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello!

               Pause.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Have you checked the children?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Billy! I don't think this is very 
                         funny!

               Pause. "Billy" doesn't answer.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         ...Who is this?

               The line goes dead. Jill stands frozen beside the table with 
               the phone in her hand as the dial tone gets louder and louder.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LIVING ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
</b>
               Jill is standing at the wet bar in the corner, pouring herself 
               a drink. She samples the alcohol, doesn't cough, and starts 
               to pour a little more into the glass.

               The phone rings. Jill turns, then slowly walks to the table, 
               kneels down and quietly picks up the phone and brings it to 
               her ear. She waits and listens, a full three seconds. No 
               sound comes to her.

               She quickly hangs up the phone before the silence can be 
               broken by the voice she knows is waiting on the other end. 
               Then, she shuffles through her books and papers on the table-
               top until she finds the notepad the doctor's wife has left 
               for her with the name and phone number of the restaurant.

               Jill picks up the phone and dials. After several rings...

<b>                                     MAITRE D' (O.S.)
</b>                         Golden Bull...

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello, I'd like to speak to Dr. 
                         Mandrakis. This is his babysitter.

<b>                                     MAITRE D' (O.S.)
</b>                         Hold on a minute.

               Jill waits for several seconds until the Maitre D' comes 
               back on the line.

<b>                                     MAITRE D' (O.S.)
</b>                         Hello?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Yes?

<b>                                     MAITRE D' (O.S.)
</b>                         Dr. Mandrakis left the restaurant 
                         about forty minutes ago.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Forty minutes?

<b>                                     MAITRE D' (O.S.)
</b>                         That's right.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (after a beat)
                         Okay. Thank you.

               She hangs up, thinks for a moment, then picks up the phone 
               again and dials "O"...

<b>                                     OPERATOR (O.S.)
</b>                         Operator...

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello, Operator? Can you get me the 
                         police?

<b>                                     OPERATOR (O.S.)
</b>                         Is this an emergency?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Yes!
                              (beat)
                         No, not really.

<b>                                     OPERATOR (O.S.)
</b>                         The number is 555-9431. Would you 
                         like me to connect you?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Please.

               Pause.

<b>                                     MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
</b>                         Seventh Precinct, Sergeant Sacker.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello, I've been getting phone calls, 
                         every fifteen minutes or so. I think 
                         it's a man. He's trying to scare me.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         An anonymous caller?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         That's right.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Has he threatened you?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Has he been using obscene language?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No. He just keeps calling me. 
                         Sometimes he doesn't say anything.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         There's really nothing we can do 
                         about it down here. Is the phone 
                         listed in your name?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No, I'm just the babysitter.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         It's probably just some weirdo. The 
                         city's full of them. Believe it or 
                         not, we get reports like this every 
                         night. It's nothing to worry about.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Oh...

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Have you tried whistling?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         If you can find a good loud whistle 
                         somewhere in the house, blow it into 
                         the phone hard, next time he calls. 
                         Probably break his eardrum. He won't 
                         bother you after that.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No, I... You're probably right. It's 
                         nothing to worry about.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Or you could just take your phone 
                         off the hook.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No, the people I'm babysitting for 
                         might try to reach me.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Well, as I say, there's nothing we 
                         can really do to help you down here.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Okay. Thank you.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         You bet. Goodnight.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Goodnight.

               Jill hangs up. After thinking for a moment, she tries a couple 
               of ways of whistling as loud as she can, but frustrated and 
               feeling foolish, she soon gives up.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
</b>
               Jill is sitting in an armchair facing the TV set. The TV is 
               on, but she is bored. She runs through several channels, 
               then gets up and turns the TV off.

               She looks around and moves aimlessly back to the table, but 
               O.S. a dog is barking and she is drawn to the window. A car 
               passes outside, its lights reflecting off the window and 
               Jill's face.

               Then the phone rings. Jill moves quickly from the window to 
               the table and answers the phone.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello?

               Pause.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Why haven't you checked the children?

               Stunned, Jill hangs up the phone. She turns and goes slowly 
               back to the window. She pulls the shutters closed in front 
               of the window. Then she walks out of the living room.

<b>               INT. FRONT HALL
</b>
               Jill goes to the front door, turns the bolt and draws the 
               chain across the door. Then she starts to go upstairs.

               The phone rings. She stops halfway up the stairs. She turns 
               and comes back down the stairs to answer the phone, but then 
               thinks better of it. She sits on the bottom step and lets 
               the phone ring and ring...

               Finally, it stops. Jill gets up and heads into the living 
               room.

<b>               INT. LIVING ROOM
</b>
               Jill goes to the table, picks up the phone and dials...

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Seventh Precinct, Sergeant Sacker.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I called you before... about the man 
                         who keeps calling me?

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Oh, yeah.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         He called me again.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Did you try whistling?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No, he's out there somewhere.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Out where?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         In the neighborhood. He's been 
                         watching me... through the windows.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Did you see him?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No. I know he's there.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Is the house locked up?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Yes.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         And the windows?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Yes. Everything.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Then you're safe. If he wanted to 
                         break in, he wouldn't be calling 
                         you.

               Pause.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Please, can't you help me? I'm all 
                         alone.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Tell you what. If this guy calls you 
                         again --

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         He will call again! I know he will!

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Okay, calm down now. I can alert the 
                         phone company so that if he calls 
                         again we can try to trace the call. 
                         What's your number there?

<b>                                     JILL
</b><b>                         555-0672.
</b>
<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         And the address?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         3317 Oakridge Drive.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Oh, yeah, I know where that is. All 
                         right. If the guy calls again, try 
                         to keep him on the line for at least 
                         a minute so we can trace the call.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         But he never stays on that long! 
                         Sometimes he hangs up after just a 
                         couple of seconds.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         It's the only way we can help you.
                              (beat)
                         By the way, what's your name?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Jill Johnson.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Jill, the important thing is to relax. 
                         You're safe where you are. We've got 
                         patrolmen cruising the area all night 
                         long. Just stay calm. Will you do 
                         that for me?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Yes.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         In the meantime, we'll be watching 
                         your line. Okay, Jill?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Okay.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Call again if there's any problem.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Thank you.

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Goodnight.

               Jill hangs up the phone and looks forlornly off into space.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LIVING ROOM - LATER
</b>
               Jill is sitting on the sofa, a drink in one hand, a cigarette 
               in the other. She is waiting. She sets her glass down, stubs 
               out the cigarette, leans back and sighs. She is very tense.

               Then the phone rings. She rises from the sofa and slowly 
               crosses to the table. She sits down and picks up the phone. 
               During this conversation it becomes apparent that the VOICE 
               has a slight English accent.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello?

               Pause.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         It's me.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I know. Who are you?

               Pause. No answer.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I won't be here much longer. The 
                         doctor and his wife are coming home 
                         soon.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         I know.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Can you see me?

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Yes.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (turning toward the 
                              window)
                         I'm sorry I turned the lights down. 
                         It didn't work anyway. I can turn 
                         them back up if you like --

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Don't.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Don't?
                              (beat)
                         You've really scared me. Is that 
                         what you wanted?
                              (beat)
                         Is that what you wanted?

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         No.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What do you want?

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Your blood... all over me.

               Pause. Jill is terrified.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         You don't know me. You don't know 
                         who I am or where I live. I'll get 
                         Dr. Mandrakis to drive me home. Him 
                         or the police.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         You've called the police?

               Pause. Jill searches for some way of answering him.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I want to talk to you.

               The line goes dead. Jill hangs up. She stands. She starts to 
               shake.

               The phone rings and Jill snatches it up.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Leave me alone!

<b>                                     SACKER (O.S.)
</b>                         Jill, this is Sergeant Sacker! Listen 
                         to me!
                              (beat)
                         We've traced the call. It's coming 
                         from within the house. A squad car's 
                         on its way over there now... just 
                         get out of that house!

               Jill hangs up. She stands frozen in shock. Several seconds 
               go by. She doesn't move.

               Then the phone rings. She turns and tiptoes toward the front 
               door. Halfway there, the phone stops ringing. She pauses for 
               a second, then continues.

<b>               INT. FRONT HALL
</b>
               Jill reaches the front door. Carefully, quietly, she turns 
               the bolt. Then O.S. she hears a creak. She turns and looks 
               up the staircase. At the top, a door is opening. Someone is 
               coming out! A mumbling sound is heard on the sound track.

               Jill whirls around back to the door and yanks at it. It opens, 
               but only an inch. The chain is still across it! She 
               frantically works to get the chain free. After agonizing 
               seconds, the chain falls clear and the door swings open.

               Standing there on the other side of the door, is a police 
               Detective, JOHN CLIFFORD. (We have cut ahead in time some 
               twenty or thirty minutes.) Behind him on the street, several 
               patrol cars and an ambulance are pulled up at the curb, their 
               domelights silently flashing.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Are the parents here yet?

<b>                                     COP'S VOICE (O.S.)
</b>                         Yeah, they arrived about ten minutes 
                         ago.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Christ!
                              (beat)
                         What a homecoming!

<b>                                     COP'S VOICE (O.S.)
</b>                         They wanted to talk to someone. I 
                         asked them to wait until you got 
                         here. Come on in.

               Clifford sighs and steps into the front hall. The door is 
               closed by the uniformed COP with whom Clifford has been 
               speaking. The cop is a man in his thirties. His name is 
               CHARLES GARBER. Garber and Clifford stand in the front hall 
               and talk as POLICEMEN and AMBULANCE ATTENDANTS move around 
               them. In the living room beyond can be seen several other 
               POLICEMEN, Dr. Mandrakis and his wife.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         We were only a block away when the 
                         call went out. When we got here, the 
                         guy was still waiting upstairs in 
                         the children's bedroom. He was covered 
                         with blood.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Blood?

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Not his own. The children had been 
                         dead for several hours.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Jesus...

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         He'd been using an old phone in their 
                         bedroom that the parents had never 
                         had disconnected.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Who is he?

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         We found a Merchant Seaman's card on 
                         him. He's English. Entered the country 
                         less than a week ago.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         How about the babysitter?

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         She's going to be all right.

               As Garber delivers his final line, we see ambulance attendants 
               dressed in white, taking a sheet-covered stretcher out the 
               front door.

<b>                                                                  FADE OUT:
</b>
<b>               FADE IN:
</b>
<b>               EXT. STREET - LATER AFTERNOON
</b>
               An upper-class neighborhood. The CAMERA is facing down the 
               street. A car approaches the intersection at the end of the 
               block, turns and comes slowly up the street.

               Because it is not a new car or an expensive car, and because 
               it is moving at a rate which suggests that its sole male 
               occupant is looking for house numbers, we can assume that 
               the DRIVER is a visitor to this neighborhood.

               The CAMERA PANS with the car ninety degrees as it turns into 
               the semi-circular driveway of a mansion and rolls up to the 
               front door.

               A TITLE appears across the bottom of the screen:

                             4:30 pm Thursday, April 20, 1978

               As the TITLE FADES, the driver shuts off the car engine and 
               opens the door to get out.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. MANSION - DAY
</b>
               The doorbell rings. A HOUSEBOY comes into the front hall, 
               goes to the door and opens it for the visitor. It is John 
               Clifford, the detective from six years ago.

               He has aged noticeably over the years. His hair is grayer, 
               his stance not so aggressive, but his eyes still smoulder 
               with the accumulated frustration of having spent years in an 
               uncertain, sometimes unsatisfying, and frequently unsafe 
               occupation.

               No words are exchanged as the houseboy leads Clifford across 
               the entrance hall and up an imposing flight of stairs. Still 
               keen in his observation of things, Clifford quickly takes in 
               this new atmosphere.

               The house is richly decorated but with an underlying theme 
               of melancholy. There are no bright or cheerful furnishings, 
               and the houseboy advances with guarded tread, his face steady 
               and reverent.

               The houseboy stops before a door at the top of the staircase 
               and raps lightly on it with his knuckles. Without waiting 
               for an answer, he opens the door and steps aside for Clifford 
               to enter.

               Clifford pauses briefly, then walks into what appears to be 
               an upstairs study.

<b>               INT. STUDY - DAY
</b>
               A MAN is sitting behind a desk which faces the door. 
               Presumably he is the master of the house. Although his face 
               is hidden in shadows, we can see from his hands that he is 
               engaged in writing something down.

               Clifford quietly approaches the desk and takes a seat in 
               front of it. Then, vaguely in keeping with the spirit of the 
               house, he waits to be spoken to rather than interrupt the 
               pervasive stillness.

               After a moment, the master of the house lays down his pen 
               and leans back in his chair. Pause.

<b>                                     MASTER
</b>                         So you're in business for yourself 
                         now.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (quietly)
                         Yes, sir, for the past three and a 
                         half years.

<b>                                     MASTER
</b>                         That's good.
                              (beat)
                         And you'd heard about Curt Duncan's 
                         escape?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Oh, yes.

<b>                                     MASTER
</b>                         Do you think the police will... find 
                         him?

               Pause.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I know they haven't assigned anyone 
                         to it specifically. It's an old case.

<b>                                     MASTER
</b>                              (a tinge of bitterness)
                         An old case.
                              (beat)
                         Can you find him?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Yes. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not 
                         this week, but I'll find him.

<b>                                     MASTER
</b>                         He could be anywhere by now.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I don't think so... because he's a 
                         foreigner. He'll come back to the 
                         city. After six years in confinement, 
                         it's the only place that's familiar 
                         to him. That's important.

               Pause.

<b>                                     MASTER
</b>                         A man murders two children in cold 
                         blood. A jury declares him insane. 
                         How could such a person not be?

               Clifford lowers his eyes, doesn't answer.

<b>                                     MASTER
</b>                         He is sent to a state mental 
                         institution where the security is... 
                         less than perfect. And he escapes. 
                         It... it isn't fair.

               The master of the house leans way forward over his desk, and 
               his face comes out of the shadows and into the light. It is 
               Dr. Mandrakis.

               He seems much older. His complexion is pallid. His eyes stare 
               out from beneath his brow like a wounded animal hiding in a 
               dark cave.

<b>                                     MANDRAKIS
</b>                         A thing like that should never be 
                         allowed to happen again.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I couldn't agree with you more.

               They look at each other for a long moment of acknowledgment. 
               Then Mandrakis stands up with a sigh.

<b>                                     MANDRAKIS
</b>                         Go ahead then. My accountant will 
                         contact you.

               Clifford stands and they shake hands.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Thank you.
                              (beat)
                         How is Mrs. Mandrakis?

<b>                                     MANDRAKIS
</b>                         She is... unable to have any more 
                         children.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I'm sorry. Please give her my best.

<b>                                     MANDRAKIS
</b>                         Of course.

               Clifford turns to go.

<b>               INT. MANSION - STAIRCASE & ENTRANCE HALL
</b>
               As Clifford finds his own way down the stairs and out the 
               front door.

               A WOMAN watches Clifford leave from the back of the staircase. 
               It is Mrs. Mandrakis. As with her husband, the change in her 
               is remarkable. She is now a brooding, barren woman.

               O.S. the front door closes. Clifford is gone. Mrs. Mandrakis 
               walks around the front of the stairs and begins slowly 
               ascending them.

               The houseboy silently steps into the entrance hall from a 
               side door and watches her.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. A HALLWAY - MENTAL INSTITUTION - DAY
</b>
               A male PATIENT wearing green, institutional pajamas and 
               slippers shuffles slowly up the hall. His movement is 
               catatonic, unfocused.

               Canned Musak faintly underscores the scene.

<b>                                     MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
</b>                         Curt Duncan isn't going to run right 
                         out and kill more children. I'm not 
                         worried about that.

<b>               ANGLE ON CLIFFORD
</b>
               Standing in the doorway of an office, facing into the hall, 
               watching the patient.

<b>                                     MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
</b>                         We had him for six years... under 
                         continuous therapy, some of it rather 
                         forceful...

<b>               ANGLE ON PATIENT
</b>
               Moving past CAMERA. He is really out of it. It is a 
               depressing, vaguely unnerving sight.

<b>                                     MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
</b>                         ...and drugs... tranquilizers 
                         depressants, lithium...

<b>               ANGLE ON CLIFFORD
</b>
               He turns and goes back into the office.

<b>               INT. OFFICE - DAY
</b>
               We see now the MAN who's been talking -- the director of the 
               State Hospital, DR. MONK. He is sitting comfortably behind 
               his desk; his jacket off, his tie loosened, his feet up on 
               the desk. He is very matter-of-fact.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Eventually, anyone will respond to 
                         the treatment here.

               Clifford sits down in front of the desk, picks up a folder 
               and leafs through it.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         You gave him electric shock?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Yeah, we zapped him a few times. 
                         It's fairly standard.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         It says here thirty-eight... thirty-
                         eight times.

               Monk shrugs, then yawns expansively. He needn't justify 
               himself to the layman.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         What will happen to him now, without 
                         the drugs he was on?

               DR. MONK'S SECRETARY enters the office and hands him a folder. 
               Without interrupting the delivery of his lines, Monk takes 
               the folder, opens it, initials something on the inside, closes 
               the folder and hands it back to the secretary who turns and 
               leaves the office without uttering a word.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         There'll be some deterioration. That's 
                         inevitable, but we can't say how 
                         much.

               Pause. Clifford looks at the doctor as if questioning his 
               casual assessment of "some deterioration."

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         During the time that you had him 
                         here, did you discover any particular 
                         habits of his, peculiarities, quirks, 
                         anything that might help me find 
                         him?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                              (shrugging again)
                         It's all in the folder.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Any letters from people back in 
                         England? Family?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         That, too, is in the folder.

               Clifford directs a bleak look back down at the open folder, 
               then looks up again, his eyes narrowing.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Let's get something straight here, 
                         Doctor. I've been 33 years in the 
                         business of tracking people down and 
                         putting them away. I spent almost a 
                         year on Curt Duncan alone, with the 
                         trial, the testimonies, the background 
                         investigations. I didn't come here 
                         today to look in your goddamn folders. 
                         In fact, I wouldn't have come here 
                         at all if you'd done your job right.

               Pause.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Mr. Clifford, this is a hospital, 
                         not a penitentiary. Everything that 
                         pertains to one of our patients is 
                         meticulously recorded in that 
                         patient's folder... whether you can 
                         make sense of it or not.

               They glare at each other for several seconds. Monk is the 
               first one to look away.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Curt Duncan is a classic paranoid-
                         schizophrenic. They see themselves 
                         as victims, and they always blame 
                         other people for the way they are. 
                         When Duncan killed the Mandrakis 
                         kids, it wasn't an act of hostility 
                         against the children but against 
                         their parents. He was getting back 
                         at his own parents for traumas he 
                         suffered in early childhood. The 
                         criminal side of Curt Duncan is one 
                         of terrible, symbolic vengeance.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (looking up)
                         Assuming he isn't found right away... 
                         what will happen to him?

               Monk rises and walks to a window.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         I think you'll find him. Somebody 
                         will find him. He can't function out 
                         there. He'll make a mistake.
                              (turning to face 
                              Clifford)
                         This is where he belongs. After six 
                         years in here, he's suddenly gone 
                         out to confront the world again. I 
                         think he's in for a bit of a shock.

               Monk looks back out the window.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. CITY STREET - LATE AFTERNOON
</b>
               Not a terribly good section of town. We are looking at the 
               nondescript exterior of a bar across the street.

<b>               INT. BAR
</b>
               This is not a slum bar, but it's close. There are a few tables 
               and chairs and a pool table in the back. The atmosphere is 
               quiet, almost depressed, and the handful of REGULARS here 
               are exercising their privacy without having to be alone.

               They include: HANK, the bartender, also the owner, who 
               absently polishes things with his cloth; TRACY, an unemployed 
               woman in her mid-forties who sits at the bar with a drink 
               and a cigarette and silently rummages through her current 
               feelings -- none of them new or particularly hopeful; a 
               COUPLE, probably retired, sitting at the same table they 
               come to every afternoon at this time -- him for his beer, 
               her for a glass of sweet white wine; and BILL, at the pool 
               table, a young man lithe and powerful, minding his own 
               business and playing his game of pool with a steady, 
               aggressive concentration.

<b>                                     RETIRED MAN
</b>                         Rackin' 'em up today, Bill?

               Pause.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                              (over his shoulder)
                         Doin' all right.

               The old man smiles stupidly around the room. He racked 'em 
               up a little in his day, too. His smile fades as he looks at 
               his wife. He takes a sip of beer and lapses into memories.

               Then the door opens to the outside and the yellow-orange 
               light of late afternoon floods into the bar. The regulars 
               turn to glimpse who's coming in. They see the figure of a 
               MAN silhouetted in the doorway. He stands there for a long 
               moment, not coming in. Finally even Bill interrupts his game 
               to turn and look.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                         C'mon in and shut the door.

               The intruder enters, indecisively. The door swings shut behind 
               him, plunging the room back into darkness. This man is "a 
               little weird", and the regulars continue to stare at him 
               until he makes his way to a table near the wall and sits 
               down. Then everyone returns to his own thoughts.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                              (after a moment)
                         What'll it be?
                              (pause, no answer)
                         Hey! What'll it be?

<b>               CLOSEUP - INTRUDER
</b>
               A bit startled, a bit defensive toward the directness of 
               this question. It is Curt Duncan. He looks understandably 
               harried. He hasn't slept or shaved in at least a couple of 
               days, and is wearing regular clothing.

               He clears his throat to answer...

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         What kind of clothes was he wearing... 
                         when he escaped?

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. DR. MONK'S OFFICE -DAY
</b>
               Clifford is looking through the folder again.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Ordinary street clothes. Not all of 
                         our patients have to wear the green 
                         Gucci gowns.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Did he have any money with him?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Probably. But not more than, say, 
                         fifty dollars. Some of the patients 
                         are given little jobs around the 
                         ward, for which they are paid. It's 
                         part of the rehabilitation.

               Looking down, Clifford pauses over a page in the folder.

<b>               CLOSEUP - FACT SHEET IN FOLDER
</b>
               A page of legibly organized facts and statistics about Curt 
               Duncan. One of the entries reads: Guy du Marraux.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                              (reading)
                         What's Guy du Mar--

<b>                                     DR. MONK (O.S.)
</b>                              (pronouncing it 
                              correctly)
                         Guy du Marraux syndrom.

<b>               BACK TO SCENE
</b>
<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         It's a psycho-motor dysfunction.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Duncan had it?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Only from time to time, which is 
                         unusual.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         What is it?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         It attacks the nervous system. People 
                         suffering from it are irresistibly 
                         compelled to utter obscenities, 
                         sometimes one, sometimes a whole 
                         string of them. They can't control 
                         it.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (somewhat taken aback)
                         Are you being serious?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Yeah. Here, I'll give you an example.

               He opens a file cabinet drawer, finds a reel of quarter-inch 
               magnetic tape and starts to thread it through a recorder on 
               his desk.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Duncan never had the twitch that 
                         sometimes goes with it. And with 
                         Duncan, as I said, the disease would 
                         only manifest itself in periods of 
                         extreme anxiety. When he was really 
                         flipping out, in other words.

               There is a pause as Monk fiddles with the tape recorder and 
               Clifford looks back down at the folder.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Duncan was Catholic?

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Yeah.
                              (beat)
                         So am I.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (mildly surprised)
                         That makes three of us.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Is that right? So we all share the 
                         same guilt.

               Clifford smiles. Monk keeps fiddling.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                         Here. This is Curt Duncan shortly 
                         after he was admitted here in 1972.

               Monk turns on the tape recorder as Clifford sits forward in 
               his chair to listen.

               At first, nothing can be heard. Then there is a click as if 
               the machine was turned on in the middle of a conversation:

<b>                                     DR. MONK (O.S.)
</b>                         -- to put the situation right. The 
                         hypodermic needles are only used to 
                         give you medication that will calm 
                         you down. They make you feel good, 
                         relaxed. All right?
                              (no answer)
                         We're not putting anything in your 
                         food either. The food is just food.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                              (extremely agitated)
                         No. I don't eat the food. It doesn't 
                         taste right.

<b>                                     DR. MONK
</b>                              (to Clifford)
                         That's Duncan.

               Clifford nods and keeps listening:

<b>                                     DR. MONK (O.S.)
</b>                         Curt, why are you fidgeting? Can't 
                         you get comfortable?

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         No, I'm not comfortable!

<b>                                     DR. MONK (O.S.)
</b>                         Wait a -- Hey!
                              (to someone else)
                         Hold him down there. Grab him! Never 
                         mind the chair!

               There are scuffling noises underneath which can be heard, 
               heavy breathing and then, getting louder and more furious, 
               Duncan falling into the throes of Guy du Marraux.

<b>                                     DR. MONK (O.S.)
</b>                              (periodically 
                              interjecting)
                         Pull him down... That's right... 
                         Just lay him out... Lay him right 
                         out... Steady... Pull out his knees...

               Finally Monk is heard no more and Duncan continues with the 
               frightening verbal torrent of Guy du Marraux.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BAR - LATE AFTERNOON - CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               Sitting at his table inside the bar. He takes a long, noisy 
               drink from what looks like a bourbon on the rocks. It tastes 
               good, being the first real drink he's had in over six years. 
               But Duncan cannot relax enough to enjoy it fully. His eyes 
               are ever restlessly, suspiciously moving about.

<b>               ANGLE ON BAR
</b>
               As Bill walks up and stands next to Tracy. Hank moves off to 
               get Bill another beer.

               Tracy looks up at Bill and smiles. As regulars at the same 
               bar, they are loose and comfortable with each other.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (sotto voce)
                         A little action for your game?

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                              (sotto voce)
                         What, him?

               They both turn and look across the room at Duncan.

<b>               POV - DUNCAN
</b>
               As Bill and Tracy look straight at him over their shoulders 
               and then turn back.

<b>               ANGLE ON BAR
</b>
               As they both smile at her joke.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I wouldn't bet against you.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         What's the matter? You don't like me 
                         playing with myself?

               Tracy grimaces as Hank comes back with Bill's beer. Bill 
               picks up the bottle, nods his thanks to Hank and heads back 
               to the pool table.

<b>               CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               As his eyes follow Bill to the pool table, then come back to 
               Tracy at the bar.

<b>               POV - DUNCAN
</b>
               Looking at the back of Tracy. She reaches into her purse.

<b>               ON TRACY
</b>
               She takes her pack of cigarettes from the purse. She pulls 
               out a cigarette, taps it lightly on the bar, puts it to her 
               lips.

               O.S. we hear the sound of a match being struck.

<b>               WIDER ANGLE
</b>
               Duncan is standing beside her holding a lit match. He shoves 
               it forward at her. It goes out.

               Duncan fumbles for another match as Tracy regards him with 
               undisguised repulsion. Duncan gets the second match lit and 
               holds it out for her. She accepts the favor and lights her 
               cigarette.

               Duncan smiles. Tracy nods and turns away. Duncan is still 
               holding the burning match for her to blow out. As it doesn't 
               look like she's going to, he lets it drop, still lit, to the 
               floor.

<b>               REACTION SHOT - BARTENDER
</b>
               He gives a look as if to say, "Jesus, what a fuckin' weirdo".

<b>               TWO SHOT - DUNCAN AND TRACY
</b>
               Pause. Duncan is still smiling at her.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Hi.

               No response.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         What you been up to?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (looking at him)
                         My own business.
                              (beat)
                         Thanks for the light. Okay?

               The Englishman sits down beside her, but doesn't look at 
               her.

               Tracy looks away too, determined to ignore him, not to let 
               him get into her space.

               Duncan coughs. After a long moment, he turns back to her.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Next round's on me.

               Tracy keeps her eyes straight ahead, acknowledging nothing.

               Pause.

               Duncan takes some money from his pocket and lays it on the 
               bar, staring at her. Tracy turns to him:

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (annoyed)
                         Listen, mister, I've got my own money. 
                         So, if you don't mind...

               She looks away again. Pause.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         After what I been through, I don't 
                         mind anything.

               Longer pause.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         See, that's the whole point. My 
                         mind... Your mind... Where do they 
                         fit in? You know what I mean?

               Tracy abruptly picks up her purse and moves down the bar 
               away from him one seat, then another seat.

<b>               ANGLE ON ELDERLY COUPLE
</b>
               They are watching this little spectacle with growing 
               curiosity.

<b>               ANGLE ON DUNCAN
</b>
               Still looking at her. By pointing at what she has, he orders 
               two more drinks from the Bartender. When they arrive, he 
               takes a big swallow from one, picks up the other, stands, 
               moves down the bar and sits beside Tracy again.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (setting her drink 
                              before her)
                         Do you live around here?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Get offa me!!

<b>               REACTION SHOTS
</b>
               Even Bill now looks up from the pool table. His expression 
               darkens.

<b>               ANGLE ON BAR
</b>
               Tracy has clammed up -- her elbows on the bar, head between 
               her elbows, arms covering her ears, hands clasped behind her 
               neck. Duncan looks at her nervously and starts to talk again:

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (rapidly)
                         Listen, I didn't mean nothin'. I 
                         don't live around here. See -- ?

<b>                                     BILL (O.S.)
</b>                         I think the lady wants to be left 
                         alone.

               Duncan looks up. Bill enters the frame and stands in front 
               of Tracy, confronting Duncan.

<b>               CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               Looking up at Bill, his eyes red, his gaze unsteady.

<b>               WIDER ANGLE
</b>
               The air is charged with tension.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         I think an apology is in order.

               Duncan doesn't know how to handle this. He looks at Bill, 
               half shrugs, half smiles.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         That the best you can do?

               Duncan looks away. A long moment passes.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         I think you'd better just move along, 
                         pal.

               Duncan doesn't move, says nothing. He swallows hard.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                         He'll be okay now, Bill. He just --

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         No! I want him out of here!

               The bartender steps back, deciding to mind his own business. 
               Tracy gets up from her seat and cautiously moves even further 
               down the bar.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                              (to Duncan)
                         Go on, beat it.

               They glare at each other. The longer Duncan sits there without 
               moving, without saying anything, the angrier Bill gets.

<b>               REACTION SHOTS
</b>
               As the tension builds.

<b>               ANGLE ON BAR
</b>
               Duncan looks away.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         I'm not going to say it again, mister.

               Duncan reaches for his drink, but Bill reacts quicker. With 
               a swipe of his hand, he knocks the glass off the bar, and it 
               shatters on the floor behind the bar.

               Duncan sits there, stunned, not looking up. After a long 
               moment, Duncan coughs. Then he turns and looks at Bill. He 
               purses his lips. It looks like a nervous facial movement. 
               Then suddenly, Duncan spits at Bill, hitting him square in 
               the face.

               Before anyone can register what's happened, Bill lunges at 
               Duncan, knocking him clean off the barstool and onto the 
               floor.

               The fight is fast, vicious and one-sided from the very start. 
               Pinned to the floor on his back, Duncan flails his arms 
               ineffectually like a panicked insect as Bill holds him in 
               place with a left-handed grip on the collar while his powerful 
               right arm, pumping up and down like a piston, pounds into 
               Duncan's face time and time again.

               Duncan's screams diminish into pathetic, sickening groans 
               and the others in the bar are compelled to avert their eyes 
               from this brutal spectacle.

               Hank has picked up a phone from beneath the bar and is dialing 
               a number. He turns away from the fight to talk.

               Then, as suddenly as Bill first sprang at Duncan, he leaps 
               to his feet and turns to the bar. He reaches over and grabs 
               the phone from Hank, slamming it down into the cradle.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         Who're you calling?

               Bill takes the cloth from the bar and vigorously wipes his 
               face off. He snaps his fingers and points to a row of bottles 
               on a shelf behind the bar. Hank quickly hands him a bottle. 
               Bill pours himself a shot and downs it, fast. He is still 
               charged with adrenaline and he takes two more shots in rapid 
               succession, spilling the alcohol on the bar and on himself.

               As Bill picks up the cloth to wipe himself off again, Tracy 
               stands up and quickly walks out of the bar, slamming the 
               door behind her.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                              (calling after her)
                         You're welcome, baby!

               Then he throws down the cloth, picks up the bottle, turns 
               and, standing over Duncan's inert form, empties half the 
               bottle onto him. He sets the bottle back on the bar. He grabs 
               Duncan and, half dragging, hurries him out the back door and 
               throws him into the alley where Duncan falls in a heap.

               Bill storms back up to the bar and pours himself another 
               drink.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                              (to Hank)
                         Okay?

               Hank just looks at him, doesn't answer. At the wife's silent 
               insistence, the elderly couple stand up to go.

<b>                                     OLD MAN
</b>                         Good riddance to bad rubbish, eh, 
                         Bill?

               Bill doesn't answer and the couple quietly leave.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                              (apologetic)
                         A fight breaks out, there's gonna be 
                         damages. Insurance company doesn't 
                         pay without a police report...

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         You see any damages?

               Hank lowers his gaze to the floor. Bill finishes his drink. 
               He is still very hopped up. He pulls a few dollars from his 
               wallet and drops them on the counter.

<b>                                     BILL
</b>                         See ya 'round.

               He turns and strides out of the bar.

               CAMERA HOLDS for a beat on Hank alone now in his empty 
               establishment. The phone starts to ring, presumably the police 
               calling back.

               After several rings, Hank picks up the phone and listens.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                              (into phone)
                         No, it's over now...

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LT. GARBER'S HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               All the lights are out inside the house, but we should just 
               be able to see that we are in the hall, looking at the front 
               door. Footsteps approach on the walk outside. A key slips 
               into the lock...

               Inside the house we can hear faint whispering. Someone is 
               moving about in the darkness. Then the door swings open and 
               the shadowy figure of a MAN crosses the threshold. He stops 
               just inside.

<b>                                     MAN
</b>                              (calling out)
                         Donna. Donna! Hey!
                              (under his breath)
                         What the hell -- !

               Suddenly the lights come on and a chorus of voices cry out, 
<b>               "SURPRISE!"
</b>
               A broad smile breaks across the man's face. We may recognize 
               him as the cop from six years ago -- Charles Garber. Today 
               he is a lieutenant on the force and dresses casually for 
               work, usually in slacks, turtleneck and jacket.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                              (genuinely surprised)
                         What is all this?!

<b>                                     SCATTERED VOICES
</b>                         Happy birthday, Charlie!

               Garber looks sheepishly at his hand holding the pistol he'd 
               drawn just before the lights came up.

<b>                                     WOMAN'S VOICE
</b>                         Look at him!

<b>                                     MAN'S VOICE
</b>                         Don't shoot us, Charlie!

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                              (chagrined)
                         How was I supposed to know?

               Everybody starts to laugh, including Garber as he returns 
               the pistol to his shoulder holster.

<b>               ANGLE ON DONNA
</b>
               Garber's wife. She comes out of the kitchen carrying a 
               birthday cake with lit candles and makes her way through the 
               crowd of GUESTS singing "Happy Birthday".

               Everyone joins in as Donna moves forward and stands beside 
               her husband. Clifford is one of the guests. He has his arm 
               around a young BLOND who is sort of pretty despite her 
               tacky/plastic appearance.

               When the song is over, Garber blows out the candles and hugs 
               and kisses his wife. Everybody cheers.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. GARBER'S HOUSE - STAIRWAY - SEVERAL HOURS LATER
</b>
               The party is still in full swing. Garber is following Clifford 
               up the stairs. They are both fairly loaded by now.

               Garber, in particular, has reached that stage of inebriation 
               where standing still is pretty hard to do.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Will you tell me what this is about, 
                         Cliff?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Yeah, in a minute.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         I don't think I can take any more of 
                         these surprises.

<b>               INT. A BEDROOM
</b>
               As Clifford and Garber enter. Garber turns on a light as 
               Clifford closes the door, shutting out the sounds of the 
               party below.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Okay now, what's the big deal?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Stand still. I want you to remember 
                         this in the morning.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         If you want me to remember something 
                         in the morning, then tell it to me 
                         in the morning.

               Garber half comically turns to go. Clifford stops him.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Charlie, come on.

<b>               ANGLE ON CORNER OF BEDROOM
</b>
               A BABY between a year and two years old is lying in a crib. 
               It opens its eyes and starts looking around.

<b>                                     GARBER (O.S.)
</b>                         All right, all right. What is it? 
                         You're getting married.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         No. I got a job today, tracking 
                         someone.

<b>               TWO SHOT - CLIFFORD & GARBER
</b>
               Garber, still moving restlessly, pats his friend on the 
               shoulder.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         That's great, Cliff; I'm sure you'll 
                         find your man.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         It's Curt Duncan.

               Garber stops suddenly, stunned. In an instant, he has become 
               stone sober.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         What?

<b>               ANGLE ON BABY
</b>
               Kicking and wiggling about.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         You didn't know he got out?

               The baby opens its mouth and starts to cry.

<b>               TWO SHOT - CLIFFORD & GARBER
</b>
               Garber glances over his shoulder at the baby, then turns 
               back to Clifford.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I need your cooperation on this one.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Sure. Anything.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
</b>
               It is late. The block is virtually deserted. Across the street 
               is the exterior of a bar -- the same bar Duncan was in 
               earlier. Some PEOPLE are coming out of the bar. It must be 
               near closing time. The people turn left and walk away down 
               the sidewalk. Their voices diminish. Pause.

               A car passes. Then the door to the bar opens again and a 
               woman comes out onto the sidewalk. It is Tracy. She turns to 
               the right and starts to walk away.

<b>               CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               He is standing in shadows across the street, watching her.

<b>               EXT. TRACY ON STREET - NIGHT
</b>
               A series of shots of Tracy walking home. The CAMERA remains 
               consistently behind her or off to one side, sometimes DOLLYING 
               with her behind a row of parked cars, sometimes picking up 
               her passing reflection in a darkened store window.

               The impression this gives is unmistakable. Curt Duncan is 
               following her. We do not see him, we do not hear him, yet we 
               know he is there. Often we can sense that the very angle 
               from which we see Tracy is his POV.

               But Tracy is aware of nothing. We know this when the CAMERA 
               begins to move in front of her, once more becoming an 
               impersonal observer of her walk homeward, to safety.

               Tension mounts as we start to expect that Duncan will jump 
               out at her from every alley and recessed doorway she passes. 
               But he doesn't.

               Finally, Tracy walks up to the CAMERA at the end of a block 
               and turns a corner; but the CAMERA HOLDS on the dark street 
               she has just come up. We hear a cough which confirms that 
               Duncan is lurking somewhere in the shadows.

<b>               EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT
</b>
               Tracy walks up the steps and enters the apartment.

<b>               INT. APARTMENT BUILDING
</b>
               Tracy steps into the elevator. The doors close. CAMERA HOLDS 
               on the elevator and watches the lights above it travel from 
               one to six.

               O.S. we hear the door to the apartment building open and 
               close.

<b>               INT. SIXTH FLOOR
</b>
               Tracy steps out of the elevator and walks down the hall to 
               her door. She fumbles through her purse for keys, then bends 
               over the lock to let herself in.

               Behind her down the hall, Duncan appears. He watches her, 
               starts to move silently forward. Tracy gets the door open, 
               then turns and sees him. Duncan stops.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Oh, it's you!
                              (beat)
                         What do you want?

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (moving forward)
                         ...Came to apologize. I...

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Look, I'm the one who should be sorry. 
                         I didn't want that to happen.
                              (she sees his face; 
                              shudders)
                         Oh, God! Look at you. Are you all 
                         right.

               Duncan half shrugs, half smiles. Tracy edges into her door-
               way. Duncan stands opposite her.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         I'm new in town. Don't know anybody...

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (uncomfortable)
                         Where're you from?

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (coughs)
                         New York. Ever been there?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Sure. Sure I've been there.

               They look at each other. Duncan coughs again.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Kind of a mean place to be. Everyone 
                         cold, unfriendly...

               Inside Tracy's apartment, the telephone rings. Tracy turns 
               vaguely, indecisively, and goes to answer it.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (over her shoulder)
                         Excuse me.

               She disappears into the apartment. O.S. she picks up the 
               ringing phone.

<b>                                     TRACY (O.S.)
</b>                         Hello?...

<b>               INT. TRACY'S APARTMENT
</b>
               As she sits with the telephone.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (nervous)
                         ...No, I just got in... I don't know 
                         if I can... Listen, I can't talk 
                         now. Can I call you back?... Okay... 
                         Goodbye.

               She hangs up the phone, stands and turns back toward the 
               door. Duncan is standing right behind her.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         I'm not from New York, actually. But 
                         I'm very, very far from home.

               He sits down.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Look, you can't come in here.

               Duncan looks at her for a moment, then looks about the 
               apartment.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (mumbling)
                         I thought we might get some coffee. 
                         Can I buy you -- ?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I don't think so.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Someplace nearby?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Not tonight. You'd better go.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         I got no place to go.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (anxious)
                         You can't --

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Just, just a little coffee?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Maybe tomorrow.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Okay, tomorrow. When?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I said maybe. I don't know.
                              (beat)
                         Listen, I'm sorry about this 
                         afternoon. I really am. All right? 
                         That was my boyfriend on the phone. 
                         He's coming over. So please leave. 
                         Now.

               Duncan doesn't move. He smiles at her.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         I like you.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (her voice rising)
                         Look, do you want me to call the 
                         cops?

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (standing)
                         It's okay. It's okay.

               He backs to the doorway and pauses.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         I'll see you later... sometime. I 
                         still want to buy you that drink.

               He steps into the hall. Tracy closes the front door and bolts 
               it. She turns, leans against it and sighs.

               Outside the door, Duncan's footsteps move down the hall, 
               pause, then come back to the door. A moment passes. Then 
               there is a faint knocking on the door. Tracy doesn't move. 
               The knocking comes again, a little louder this time. Tracy 
               stands and waits, scarcely breathing. After another long 
               moment, the footsteps finally move away.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. POLICE STATION - DAY
</b>
               A car pulls into the parking lot behind the station. Clifford 
               and Garber get out and walk into the building.

<b>               INT. POLICE STATION
</b>
               Clifford and Garber walk down a hallway. Uniformed POLICEMEN 
               walk to and fro around them.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Jesus, I don't recognize anybody.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Three years is a long time in a place 
                         like this.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Three and a half.

               Garber stops at the WATCH COMMANDER'S desk and picks up some 
               paperwork. The WC looks up briefly and sees Clifford.

<b>                                     WC
</b>                         Hiya, Cliff. Howya doin'?

               The WC looks down again. Three and a half years mean nothing 
               to him.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (taken aback)
                         Hi...

               He can't remember the man's name. Garber smiles at him and 
               they continue walking.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         How long will you be here?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Depends on how lucky I get.
                              (beat)
                         I'll only be coming around once, 
                         maybe twice a week.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         You want to use your old desk? 
                         Someplace to sit down?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (surprised)
                         Is it vacant?

<b>               INT. OFFICE - POLICE STATION
</b>
               A. Clifford and Garber appear in the doorway. Clifford enters, 
               walks up to his old desk, opens some of the drawers -- they 
               are empty -- sits down in his old chair, smiles at Garber.

               B. We see Clifford opening a file cabinet and taking out a 
               folder stuffed with notices and reports --

               C. Clifford standing beside a Xerox machine running off a 
               copy of something --

               D. Clifford standing in a hallway talking to a PATROLMAN. 
               Clifford has a legal pad with him and is jotting something 
               down on it as the patrolman speaks --

               E. Clifford at his desk, making notes on the legal pad --

               F. Garber is at his desk, on the phone, Clifford appears in 
               the doorway carrying his legal pad. He waves goodbye to Garber 
               who nods in response.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LOBBY OF A FLOPHOUSE HOTEL
</b>
               Clifford questions the DESK CLERK. He shows the clerk a photo 
               of Duncan taken some years ago in the mental institution. 
               The clerk shakes his head and starts to hand the picture 
               back when Clifford motions for him to keep it. As Clifford 
               leaves, the clerk turns the picture over...

<b>               CLOSEUP - BACK OF PICTURE
</b>
               Revealing Clifford's name and phone numbers, and a twenty 
               dollar bill paperclipped to the back of the picture --

<b>               EXT. STREET
</b>
               As Clifford pulls his car up to the curb, then consults his 
               legal pad --

<b>               CLOSEUP - LEGAL PAD
</b>
               The top three addresses are crossed out. Clifford underlines 
               the fourth --

<b>               BACK TO SCENE
</b>
               Clifford looks up from the pad to a bar he has pulled up in 
               front of -- the bar Duncan was in. It bears the address 
               Clifford has just underlined. Clifford gets out of his car 
               and walks up to the bar. A "Closed" sign is displayed in the 
               window. Clifford knocks on the door. After a moment, Hank 
               opens the door.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LAUNDROMAT - DAY
</b>
               There are only a few CUSTOMERS sitting around, waiting for 
               their wash. A BUM is stretched out on his back across one of 
               the tables like a corpse awaiting autopsy. This is CHEATER.

               A MAINTENANCE MAN in grey work clothes enters from the back. 
               He opens a broom closet, takes out a bucket and mop and rolls 
               them toward the front of the laundromat. He stops at Cheater's 
               table and shakes him hard.

<b>                                     MAINTENANCE MAN
</b>                         Okay, man, move it out. Let's go.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Wha -- ?

               Cheater sits up and starts to pull himself together. An OLD 
               WOMAN sitting against the wall points down one of the aisles 
               of washing machines and says to the maintenance man:

<b>                                     OLD WOMAN
</b>                         There's another one down there.

               The maintenance man goes to the end of the aisle and looks 
               down into the nook created by the absence of one of the 
               washing machines.

<b>                                     MAINTENANCE MAN
</b>                         Hey!

               He nudges at whatever's inside the nook with his foot.

<b>                                     MAINTENANCE MAN
</b>                              (nudging again)
                         Come on, bright eyes. Wake up. Wake -- 
                         Jesus Christ! What happened to you?

<b>               ANGLE ON NOOK
</b>
               As Curt Duncan raises his head into the light and looks up 
               at the maintenance man. Overnight, his face has swollen 
               considerably and a bright yellow and purple discoloring around 
               his bruises has emerged.

<b>                                     MAINTENANCE MAN (O.S.)
</b>                         You get hit by a truck or what?

               He bends over and helps pull Duncan to his feet.

<b>               WIDER ANGLE
</b>
               As the maintenance man guides Duncan to the door.

<b>                                     MAINTENANCE MAN
</b>                         I'm sorry, man, but you can't stay 
                         in here. Go out to the park, lay in 
                         the sunshine. You'll feel better. 
                         Okay?

               Duncan goes out the door. The maintenance man turns and sees 
               Cheater stretched out again on the table.

<b>                                     MAINTENANCE MAN
</b>                         God bless it! Hey!

               He pulls Cheater off the table and pushes him to the door.

<b>                                     MAINTENANCE MAN
</b>                         Out. Out. Out. Out. Out.

<b>               EXT. LAUNDROMAT
</b>
               As Cheater is pushed out onto the sidewalk.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                              (angry)
                         All right! All right!

               He straightens his rags indignantly, then looks at Duncan 
               and grins.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Whaddya say, pardner. I'm dry as a 
                         bone. You got any money?

               Duncan looks at Cheater distrustfully and shakes his head.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         You neither, huh?
                              (with a laugh)
                         My name is Morgan, but it ain't J.P. 
                         Guess I better go to work. Take 'er 
                         easy now, pardner.

               Cheater shuffles off in one direction. Duncan turns and goes 
               in the other.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. TRACY'S APARTMENT - DAY
</b>
               A knock at the front door. After a moment, Tracy comes into 
               the front hallway and, crossing to the door, stubs her toe 
               on the open closet door. She swears under her breath and 
               angrily slams the closet door shut. Then, grabbing her injured 
               toe, she hops to the front door.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Who is it?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         My name's John Clifford. I'm a private 
                         investigator.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         A what?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         A private detective.

               Pause.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         What do you want with me?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         I'd just like to talk, ask a few 
                         questions.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I've got nothing to say about anything 
                         or anybody.

               Pause.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         Listen, lady, I can be back in thirty 
                         minutes with a search warrant and a 
                         handful of cops, and I can probably 
                         have you arrested, whether or not 
                         the charges would stick. Now do you 
                         want to let me in and talk?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Have you got a badge?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         I'll show you a badge when you open 
                         the goddamn door!

               Tracy unbolts the door and opens it. Clifford walks right in 
               and closes the door behind him.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I don't carry a badge. I'm issued a 
                         license, a piece of paper, and I 
                         left it at home. You're Tracy Fuller?

               Tracy nods.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Can we sit down?

               Tracy leads him into the living room. They sit. Clifford 
               gives her a picture.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Do you recognize this man?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Why?

               Clifford lets out a sigh of frustration, realizing that this 
               woman will continue to be difficult.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         He's escaped from the insane asylum. 
                         In 1972, he murdered two children... 
                         broke into a house and found them 
                         asleep in bed. It was a little boy, 
                         five an a half, and a little three-
                         year-old girl. After the coroner's 
                         investigation, their bodies were 
                         taken to the mortuary, where the 
                         undertaker took one look at them and 
                         said he couldn't have their bodies 
                         reconstructed for the funeral without 
                         six days of steady work. Then he 
                         asked what had been the murder weapon, 
                         because looking at the mess in front 
                         of him, he couldn't imagine what had 
                         been used. The coroner told him there 
                         had been no murder weapon. The killer 
                         had used only his hands.
                              (beat)
                         The undertaker went to work and had 
                         them done in four.

               The picture falls out of Tracy's hands. She is stunned to 
               the point of nausea.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         What's the matter?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (barely able to say 
                              it)
                         He's been here.

<b>               EXT. STREET
</b>
               Duncan is standing on the sidewalk huddled close to a wall. 
               He is looking up at Tracy's apartment building across the 
               street.

<b>               POV - DUNCAN
</b>
               Traveling up the wall of the building to the open window of 
               Tracy's apartment on the sixth floor. SLOW ZOOM IN:

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         Do you think he'll try to see you 
                         again?

<b>                                     TRACY (O.S.)
</b>                         I don't know. He said he had no place 
                         else to go.

<b>               INT. TRACY'S APARTMENT
</b>
<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Let's play it safe. Let's assume 
                         that he will.

<b>               CLOSEUP - TRACY
</b>
               Reacting to this possibility.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         Will you work with me?

               She nods, hesitantly.

<b>               EXT. STREET
</b>
               Duncan turns up an alley across the street from Tracy's 
               apartment building and disappears.

               Sound over: knocking on a door.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. BAR - DAY
</b>
               Clifford is standing at the door. The "Closed" sign still 
               hangs in the window. The door opens, and Hank sticks his 
               head out.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                         You again?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         What are your hours tonight?

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                         No hours. Bar's closed on Mondays.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I want you to be open if that's 
                         possible.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                              (closing the door)
                         No way. Monday's my night off. Come 
                         back tomorr...

               Clifford violently pushes the door open. The bartender backs 
               off, surprised.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (through clenched 
                              teeth)
                         This is tomorrow! Now what are your 
                         hours?

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LT. GARBER'S OFFICE - DAY
</b>
               Garber is sitting behind his desk as Clifford walks in.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                              (looking up)
                         Any luck?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I've come to say goodbye, and thank 
                         you.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         You found him?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I think so.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Where?

               Pause.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         From here on, I go it alone.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         What's the point of chancing it, 
                         Cliff? We'll let you take the credit.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         No.

               Pause. Clifford sits down.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I'm going to kill him, Charlie.

               Garber leans forward in his chair and stares at Clifford. A 
               long moment passes. A button on the lieutenant's phone lights 
               up and the intercom buzzes. Garber doesn't even look down at 
               it. The button flashes on and off, on and off. Finally it 
               stops.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         The closer I get to this guy, the 
                         more I... It gets to me. I don't 
                         know...

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         I think you'd better go on home, 
                         Cliff. You've fallen in.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         No. Not this time. This is the case 
                         that makes up for a whole career. If 
                         you can't understand it now, you 
                         will in a few years.

               Pause. Garber considers another tack and follows it.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         What part does money play in all 
                         this? Play straight with me.

               Clifford is stunned by the question, but he tries to be 
               casual.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (shrugging)
                         For what I'm being paid, it's not 
                         out of line.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Who's hired you for this?

               Clifford glares at his friend and doesn't answer.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                              (cynically)
                         So you're a hitman now.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (passionately)
                         He murdered two kids in cold blood. 
                         You were there, too.

               Garber doesn't have to be reminded of his own feelings. He 
               doesn't pursue the argument.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         You could get busted.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I understand that.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         What are you going to use?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Jimmy needles.

               Garber nods slowly, considering it a good choice of weapons 
               at least.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         You're stretching our friendship, 
                         Cliff. If you blow this at all --

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         You'll never hear from me again.

               Garber looks away for a moment. When he looks back, he just 
               shrugs his shoulders, "washes his hands".

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Take your time. Do it right.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Don't worry.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Do you need any help preparing for 
                         this thing?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (standing up)
                         I'm ready. I'm just trying to think 
                         where he could be in the meantime.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY
</b>
               A few customers sit quietly minding their own business. A 
               WAITRESS leans near the cash register at one end of the 
               counter. A transistor radio plays country music blues. The 
               waitress looks up as somebody enters.

<b>                                     WAITRESS
</b>                         What happened to you?

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Coffee.

               It is Duncan. He moves to the counter and sits.

<b>                                     WAITRESS
</b>                         You get mugged?

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Black.

               Snubbed, the waitress comes back and sets the cup in front 
               of him. She looks down at the change on the counter. There 
               isn't enough.

<b>                                     WAITRESS
</b>                         Coffee's twenty-seven.

               Duncan looks up at her resentfully.

<b>                                     WAITRESS
</b>                              (pulling away the cup)
                         Coffee's twenty-seven cents. Ya got 
                         it or don't ya?

               Duncan glares at her. He doesn't have it.

<b>                                     WAITRESS
</b>                         Okay, buster, one cup. On the house.

               She pushes the cup back to him. Some of the coffee spills 
               onto the counter.

<b>                                     WAITRESS
</b>                         Drink it and be on your way.

               Duncan slowly reaches for the cup, raises it to his lips.

<b>                                     WAITRESS
</b>                         You're welcome.

               Duncan stops, sets the cup down, pushes it away from him and 
               slowly rises from his seat.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         No, thank you.

               Duncan and the waitress stand face to face, shooting darts 
               at each other. Then a MAN sitting two seats away reaches 
               over and places a quarter on the counter between them.

               The waitress looks at the man irritatedly, then picks up the 
               money and moves away.

               Duncan slowly sits down again. He pulls the cup back to 
               himself, then turns and looks at the man for a long moment, 
               unable to express his gratitude.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. CITY STREETS - DUSK
</b>
               A series of shots of BUMS, "homeless persons", hanging out, 
               in alleys, in the doorways of old buildings, sitting on the 
               sidewalk in front of liquor stores.

               Then we see Duncan, alone but looking no different from the 
               others. He is panhandling PASSERSBY, without much success. 
               We see him fall into a fit of coughing that incapacitates 
               him for several seconds. He's obviously getting sicker.

               We lose sight of Duncan as our MONTAGE continues. We see 
               Clifford talking to a BUM, then another. He is passing the 
               time combing the streets in the neighborhood of the bar.

<b>               PARK - DUSK
</b>
               A handful of BUMS are sitting together on the grass passing 
               a bottle in a brown paper bag. Duncan is not among them, but 
               Cheater is there, sitting at the end of the line.

               CAMERA PANS from one bum to the next as the bottle is passed. 
               By the time it gets to Cheater, it is empty. Cheater looks 
               as if he's about to cry like a baby when a hand enters the 
               frame from the other side -- the hand holding out to Cheater 
               a full bottle of wine. Cheater takes the bottle and looks up 
               gratefully... to see John Clifford standing beside him.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Well! I can't say much for your 
                         protocol, but your timing's dead on. 
                         Here's to you, pardner.

               Cheater takes a long drink, then passes the bottle back down 
               the line.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (to all the bums)
                         I'm looking for an old buddy of mine, 
                         English fella. Name's Crazy Curt. 
                         Any of you guys seen him?

               Nobody responds.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I owe him some money.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Aaahh. Show me an honest man...

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (gesturing)
                         Stands about so. Brown hair. Face 
                         kind of banged up. Was in an accident.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Oh, yeah? I was just with that guy, 
                         not more'n an hour ago. Looked bad. 
                         Crazy Curt, huh?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Where?

               Cheater scratches his head, and glances anxiously down the 
               line.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Hell, I can't remember. Prob'bly see 
                         him again though. Tell you what. You 
                         leave the money with me, I'll see he 
                         gets it... as a favor to you.

               Clifford shakes his head.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I have to talk to him.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Whatsa matter? You don't trust me? 
                         I'll have you know I used to be a 
                         college professor. We can work 
                         together.

               Clifford stands to go. The bottle comes back to Cheater, 
               three-quarters down.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Sure. Keep the bottle. I'll be back.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         "Long life to the grape! For when 
                         summer is flown, The age of our nectar 
                         Shall gladden our own." That's 
                         Shelley, you know.

               Clifford is gone. Cheater takes a long drink and almost 
               forgets that Clifford was ever there.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. CLIFFORD'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
</b>
               Clifford is "suiting up" for his night's work. He is dressed 
               casually -- blue jeans, shirt open at the neck, sports jacket, 
               Adidas running shoes. He looks at himself in the mirror, is 
               satisfied. Then he picks up from the dresser two awl-like 
               instruments with short handles and long, glistening tapered 
               needlepoints -- his weapons. He slides them into a leather 
               sheath inside his jacket and turns to go.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. BAR - NIGHT
</b>
               It is lit up inside. The bar is open for business. Across 
               the street in a dark space between two buildings, Duncan is 
               waiting, watching the front door of the bar to see who comes 
               out.

<b>               INT. BAR
</b>
               The place is empty but for Hank who half watches the 
               television over the bar, and Tracy who sits alone in a corner. 
               Several moments pass as both of them sit and wait.

               Then, the front door starts to swing open. Someone is coming 
               in. Tracy and Hank both glance nervously toward the door.

               A MAN'S head peeks in. He is somewhere in his forties, a 
               regular customer.

<b>                                     CUSTOMER
</b>                         Hey, Hank, what're you doing open 
                         tonight?

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                              (relaxing)
                         Trying to make a buck.

               The customer walks up to the bar, sits down and talks quietly 
               with Hank.

               Tracy looks nervously at her wristwatch. She stubs out her 
               cigarette, takes one last gulp of her drink and stands up to 
               go.

               She walks to the bar, opens her purse and reaches inside.

<b>                                     HANK
</b>                         Keep it, honey. My treat.

               They exchange a meaningful look. Then she heads for the door.

<b>                                     CUSTOMER
</b>                              (under his breath)
                         That how you make a buck?

<b>               EXT. BAR
</b>
               Tracy looks up and down the street, hoping to see Clifford 
               somewhere, afraid of glimpsing Duncan instead. Then she starts 
               walking quickly homeward.

<b>               EXT. STREETS
</b>
               Following Tracy to her apartment. We pick up Clifford now, 
               and we cut back and forth between the two of them -- her 
               walking quickly, never looking back, and him sneaking along 
               several hundred feet behind her, looking everywhere for 
               Duncan, whom we never see.

<b>               EXT. TRACY'S APARTMENT
</b>
               She walks up the steps and enters.

<b>               INT. SIXTH FLOOR
</b>
               Tracy steps off the elevator and goes to her door. She fumbles 
               through her purse for the key. Then she hears footsteps on 
               the stairs. She turns. It's Clifford.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (coming forward: half-
                              whispering)
                         No luck. You see him?

               Tracy shakes her head.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         He still could be out there, though.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (softly)
                         Oh, God...

               She is starting to come apart, and she suddenly leans on 
               Clifford for support.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Are you all right?

               Tracy stands there for several seconds to regain control of 
               herself. Then she steps away and turns back to the door.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I'm okay.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I'm going to hang around outside for 
                         awhile. I'll be back on and off again 
                         all night.

               Tracy gets the door unlocked. She pushes it open.

<b>               INT. TRACY'S APARTMENT - FRONT HALL
</b>
               Tracy steps in. Clifford stays in the doorway. They are still 
               whispering.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Are you sure you're okay?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I'm fine.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         All right. Bolt your door. Don't let 
                         anybody in, no matter what.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Okay.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I'll be seeing you.
                              (starts to move off; 
                              comes back)
                         Listen. Thanks.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Sure.

               Tracy closes the door and throws the bolt. Then she walks 
               into the apartment and out of frame. CAMERA STAYS in the 
               hallway. We can hear Tracy moving about O.S.

               Then, as if on its own, the door to the hall closet slowly 
               swings open...

               ...until we can see Duncan standing inside the closet.

<b>               INT. KITCHEN
</b>
               Tracy is putting some coffee on. Then she removes her coat 
               and walks out of the kitchen.

<b>               INT. FRONT HALL
</b>
               Tracy goes up to the closet with her coat. The door is closed. 
               She opens it. She hangs up her coat and closes the door again. 
               Then she turns and starts walking out of the hallway to the 
               living room.

               As she is rounding the corner into the living room, she walks 
               right into Duncan. She barely has time to gasp before he 
               clamps his hand over her mouth and pushes her against the 
               wall.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (urgent whisper)
                         I just have to talk to you.
                              (pathetically)
                         I want you to be my friend.

               As she isn't struggling, he starts to loosen up on her.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                         Please...

               He takes his hand away from her mouth, lets go of her, and 
               slowly, cautiously steps back. Tracy looks at him for a 
               breathless moment, her eyes wild with fear. Then she screams.

               Duncan jumps back, stunned, frightened and confused. Tracy 
               doesn't move. She just keeps screaming hysterically.

<b>               EXT. STREET
</b>
               Tracy's screams carry out into the night as Clifford races 
               across the street and into the apartment building.

<b>               INT. TRACY'S APARTMENT
</b>
               Duncan runs to a window, throws it open and climbs out onto 
               the fire escape.

<b>               INTERCUT - APARTMENT STAIRS AND FIRE ESCAPE
</b>
               As Clifford bounds up the stairs, flight after flight, and 
               Duncan tears down the fire escape.

<b>               INT. SIXTH FLOOR
</b>
               The screaming has stopped when Clifford reaches Tracy's door. 
               He grabs the doorknob and heaves himself against the door. 
               It's bolted shut.

               Clifford pulls one of the needles from his jacket and hammers 
               it into the lock. The bolt springs and Clifford runs into 
               the apartment.

<b>               INT. TRACY'S APARTMENT
</b>
               As Clifford bursts in. Tracy gestures toward the window. 
               Clifford runs to it and sticks his head out.

<b>               POV - CLIFFORD
</b>
               Duncan is gone.

<b>               BACK TO SCENE
</b>
               Clifford runs to a window on another wall and looks out onto 
               the street.

<b>               POV - CLIFFORD
</b>
               No sign of the Englishman.

<b>               BACK TO SCENE
</b>
               Clifford runs out of the apartment, yanking his needle from 
               the lock as he passes the door, and charges back down the 
               stairs.

               Tracy moves to the door and closes it. She is breathing 
               heavily.

               O.S. we hear the angry sizzle of coffee spilling onto the 
               hot stove, as Tracy goes to get it.

<b>               EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING
</b>
               Clifford comes out, looks around and moves rapidly up the 
               street.

<b>               EXT. A STREET
</b>
               Duncan is hurrying along, dodging in and out of people, trying 
               to move quickly but not draw attention to himself...

<b>               EXT. ANOTHER STREET
</b>
               Clifford is travelling along the sidewalk, crossing the 
               street, looking everywhere...

<b>               EXT. ALLEYWAY
</b>
               Duncan is running up the alley. He comes to a stop beside 
               some piled up trash cans. He leans against the brick wall of 
               the building, huffing and puffing. He is frightened, but he 
               feels safe for now. He slowly slides down the wall to the 
               ground...

<b>                                                             FLASH BACK TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. MENTAL HOSPITAL - DAY
</b>
               Duncan is curled up in the corner of a bare cell with padded 
               walls. He is in a strait-jacket. His head is shaved. We can't 
               tell what he is thinking, except that he's obviously deeply 
               frightened and cannot understand what's happening to him.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. A ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
               This is the children's bedroom in Dr. Mandrakis' house of 
               six years ago. It is dark. Two small beds occupy one corner 
               of the room. We can see two small lumps on the beds, but no 
               more.

               Duncan sits in the foreground with a telephone on his lap. 
               He is dialing a number. The phone rings three times before 
               it is answered -- or rather, picked up, because there is no 
               voice on the other end. After several seconds the phone is 
               hung up.

               Duncan hangs up and thinks for a moment. He picks up the 
               phone and dials again. This time he gets a busy signal. He 
               hangs up, stands and goes to the door. He opens it slowly, 
               peers out. Jill's voice can be heard faintly talking to the 
               operator, asking for the police.

               Duncan closes the door and comes back into the room, mumbling. 
               He goes to the window, looks out. Then he goes to the 
               children's beds.

<b>               CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               As he raises the covers and stares down into the CAMERA.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. DECK OF A SHIP - MORNING
</b>
               A freighter, broad and low, arduously cuts through the water. 
               Early morning mist hangs over the deck which is empty but 
               for a lone FIGURE standing on the prow.

<b>               MIDDLE SHOT - LONE FIGURE
</b>
               It is Curt Duncan. He is looking out over the front of the 
               ship. Another SEAMAN comes up behind him and claps him on 
               the shoulder.

<b>                                     SEAMAN
</b>                         So this will be your first time?
                              (laughs)
                         An old salt like you?

               Duncan moves away, wanting to be left alone.

<b>                                     SEAMAN
</b>                              (still laughing; 
                              slightly punchy)
                         You'll love it here. It's where they 
                         make the bombs. It's where they make 
                         the planes that carry the bombs; the 
                         planes we saw over Singapore and 
                         Manila.

               He walks away laughing.

<b>                                     SEAMAN
</b>                         There she is. That's America.

<b>               DUNCAN'S POV
</b>
               The coast of Southern California emerges through the mist. A 
               foghorn blows somewhere in the distance.

<b>               CLOSE-UP - DUNCAN
</b>
               As he peers ahead with inscrutable interest.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. ANOTHER ROOM - NIGHT
</b>
               Dark. A little BOY is lying in bed, apparently asleep. This 
               is Curt Duncan as a child.

               Some voices approach in the hallway outside the bedroom. 
               They are gruff, with heavy English accents, but subdued; a 
               MAN and a WOMAN, well into middle-age.

               The boy's eyes open as he listens:

<b>                                     MAN (O.S.)
</b>                         What's the matter?

<b>                                     WOMAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Save it for later. Let's go out and 
                         get some food.

<b>                                     MAN (O.S.)
</b>                         What about the lad? You can't leave 
                         him.

<b>                                     WOMAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Curt's asleep. He'll never know we're 
                         gone.

               From outside, a key enters the lock of the bedroom door and 
               turns. The bolt slips and the door is securely shut.

               The boy sits up in bed, apprehensive. In TIGHT SHOTS of the 
               floor we see a rat come out from under the bed, then another. 
               They make "chit-chit" noises as they begin to explore. One 
               of them maybe goes up on its hind legs and nibbles on the 
               bedpost. Then we see two more rats appear.

               We go for a TIGHT SHOT of the boy on top of the bed. The 
               "chit-chit" noises grow steadily louder as the boy's 
               apprehension turns to fear, then to terror. The boy starts 
               to whimper.

               Suddenly, we cut back to a WIDE SHOT of the room. The floor 
               is crawling with rats, hundreds of them. The "chit-chit" 
               rises to practically a roar as the boy, alone on top of the 
               bed, begins to wail.

               The room seems to darken, and the boy becomes just a little 
               white speck in it. The focus is turned. The picture becomes 
               a black and white blur.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. ALLEYWAY - NIGHT - THE PRESENT
</b>
               At first all that can be seen is a white blur against a black 
               screen. The previous sound of a boy crying increases. Then 
               the blur grows larger, coming more into focus as the entire 
               screen image moves toward normal definition. Finally, we 
               know we are back in the alleyway, that it is night, and that 
               the white blur is actually a little BOY lost, sobbing 
               uncontrollably.

<b>               CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               Awakening to the scene, coming back to reality. He is 
               confused.

<b>               WIDER ANGLE ON DUNCAN AND BOY
</b>
               The boy continues sobbing, moving about in little circles. 
               Duncan, amazed at what he sees, slowly crawls out from the 
               wall on his hands and knees, crawls toward the weeping child, 
               staring at it with a strange look on his face.

               Suddenly the boy stops crying and looks at Duncan quizzically, 
               hesitantly. They are less than a foot apart, almost face to 
               face. Together they form a kind of frozen tableau. Something 
               close to sympathy crosses the killer's expression, and the 
               boy, likewise, achieves a faint sense of recognition.

               Then, just as suddenly, the boy starts wailing again and he 
               runs off down the alleyway. Duncan watches him disappear. 
               Then he slowly pulls himself to his feet.

<b>               EXT. STREET
</b>
               Clifford is coming up the sidewalk. As Clifford crosses the 
               entrance to an alleyway, the boy comes running out and almost 
               collides with him. Clifford grabs the boy and looks down at 
               him. Then he passes the wailing child off on a nearby 
               PEDESTRIAN and runs up into the alley.

<b>               EXT. ANOTHER STREET
</b>
               Duncan is hurrying along the sidewalk. Something makes him 
               look up.

<b>               POV - DUNCAN
</b>
               He is looking at a neon "Jesus Saves" sign above the doorway 
               to an inner city mission.

<b>               BACK ON DUNCAN
</b>
               As he stares at the sign.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Hey, Crazy Curt!

               Duncan turns to see Cheater elatedly hobbling up to him.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         Hail fellow well met, and all that 
                         jazz. It's our lucky day!
                              (taking Duncan by the 
                              arm)
                         A friend of your's got money for 
                         you. We got to get back to the park 
                         and meet him.

               Duncan pulls his arm free.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         C'mon. He'll be comin' for you, Crazy 
                         Curt. S'got some money.
                              (reaching for Duncan's 
                              arm)
                         We'll get us a little joy juice.

               Duncan pulls free again and heads toward the mission.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         C'mon! Hey!! You really are crazy! 
                         C'mon!

               Duncan enters the mission and Cheater stands out on the 
               sidewalk for a moment, bitterly frustrated.

<b>                                     CHEATER
</b>                         "Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! 
                         Rage! Blow, you cataracts and 
                         hurricanoes, spout till you have 
                         drench'd our steeples and drown'd 
                         the cocks!"

               Several PEDESTRIANS stop and gape at this sudden outburst.

<b>               EXT. ANOTHER STREET
</b>
               Clifford comes out of a derelict hotel, looks up and down 
               the street and hurries off, not giving up the chase.

<b>               INT. MISSION - MOMENTS LATER
</b>
               A MAN is leading Duncan to the bathroom. Duncan enters slowly 
               and goes to one of the wash basins where there is an old 
               razor blade and a can of shaving cream. Duncan picks up the 
               razor for a moment and looks at it. He is lost in thought. 
               Then he sets it down and turns on the tap water.

               He glances at himself in the mirror and is suddenly transfixed 
               by his own image. He looks deeply into the mirror for several 
               seconds. Then he starts to cry, and having begun, a flood of 
               emotions comes pouring out of him. He drops to his knees.

               The man comes running back into the bathroom. He holds Duncan 
               and helps pull him back to his feet.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. STREET - NIGHT
</b>
               Cheater is trudging along the sidewalk, hands in pockets, 
               head lowered. He looks up and sees something that brings him 
               back to life.

<b>               POV - CHEATER
</b>
               Clifford is standing on the corner up ahead, looking around.

<b>               WIDE ANGLE ON STREET
</b>
               Cheater calls out and starts to run toward Clifford.

               Clifford turns, sees Cheater.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. MISSION - NIGHT
</b>
               The "sleeping dorm". It is a large empty room. Thirty or so 
               OUTCASTS are stretched out on the bare floor in the darkness. 
               Their combined snoring/wheezing creates a steady, ghastly 
               din.

               The door at the far end of the hall opens. A figure steps in 
               and quietly closes the door behind him. He stands for a moment 
               taking in the scene, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. 
               Then he slowly creeps forward to the prone body of the nearest 
               sleeper.

<b>               CLOSEUP - FIGURE
</b>
               It is Clifford. He moves stealthily from one body to the 
               next. In one hand he carries a small flashlight. He turns 
               the bodies over just long enough to shine the light in their 
               faces and identify who they are, or rather who they are not. 
               Then he moves on. In his other hand he holds a small, gleaming 
               Jimmy needle.

<b>               CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               He's sleeping, but his eyes suddenly open, sensing danger. 
               He turns over and sees the dark figure of Clifford slowly 
               advancing toward him.

<b>               WIDER ANGLE
</b>
               Clifford keeps coming, closer and closer to where Duncan 
               lies. He is but six or seven bodies away when Duncan jumps 
               up suddenly and bolts for the door.

               Clifford looks up, sees the fleeing figure and charges after 
               it.

<b>               INT. CORRIDORS
</b>
               Racing through a maze of narrow hallways, Duncan can't stop 
               to think where he's going. Clifford is barreling after him 
               some forty yards behind.

               Duncan rounds a corner and ten yards up ahead, the hallway 
               deadends in a set of double doors. Duncan has no choice but 
               to hurl himself against the doors. They yield and he goes 
               through them.

               Four seconds later, Clifford comes to the same doors and 
               pushes through to the other side.

<b>               INT. CHURCH
</b>
               As Clifford comes through the doors which are a side entrance 
               into the chancel of this large, gothic-style church. Behind 
               him now, is the altar. Before him stretches the nave of the 
               edifice with its rows of pews, its dimly glowing stained 
               glass windows, and way in the back, its choir loft. At regular 
               intervals, tiny shafts of light pierce the darkness from on 
               high.

               There is no sign of Duncan, but Clifford knows he must be in 
               here, hiding somewhere. He slowly walks forward to the front 
               of the chancel.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Duncan. Duncan. It's over now. Come 
                         on out.

               Pause. Duncan doesn't come out. Clifford holds very still. 
               He hears nothing. He speaks again and his voice echoes through 
               the large empty church.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         My name's John Clifford. I'm a private 
                         detective. I've been hired by 
                         Alexander Mandrakis to take you back. 
                         I'm not going to hurt you.

<b>               CLOSEUP - DUNCAN
</b>
               Hiding beneath a pew. He hears the name "Mandrakis" and it 
               registers like a thunderbolt. He silently mouths the name 
               "Mandrakis".

               Then he hears Clifford's footsteps approaching.

<b>               ANGLE ON CLIFFORD
</b>
               Slowly moving up the center aisle, looking from side to side 
               into the pews.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (gently; coaxing)
                         I'm not going to hurt you... I'm not 
                         going to hurt you... There'll be no 
                         more pain... You're safe now...

               Clifford moves closer and closer to Duncan's row until 
               finally, Duncan can bear it no longer. He jumps up from 
               beneath the pew and runs.

<b>                                     DUNCAN
</b>                              (hysterical)
                         No! Mandrakis! No!

               Clifford chases him through the pews and up the aisles to 
               the front of the church. He is clutching a needle in both 
               hands, ready to strike.

               Duncan flees through a narrow door off to the side of the 
               church.

<b>               INT. BELL TOWER
</b>
               Duncan faces a spiraling stone staircase. He has no choice 
               but to climb them, higher and higher, the sound of Clifford's 
               angry footsteps always coming up behind him.

               Finally, Duncan can climb no higher. He is at the top of the 
               bell tower. A lanceted opening in the stone wall ahead of 
               him looks out over the narrow shaft of the tower. Above him 
               are the huge iron bells. A rope hangs down from the bells, 
               dangling all the way down the shaft, forty or fifty feet to 
               the floor of the church.

               Clifford is bounding up the last flight of steps to get him. 
               Duncan has little choice. He is trapped. Just before Clifford 
               reaches him, Duncan leaps out into the shaft and catches the 
               bell rope.

               The bell starts to clang as Duncan, hanging in mid air, swings 
               back and forth within the narrow shaft. Clifford leans way 
               out through the lancet window and takes a swipe at Duncan, 
               but the madman is just beyond his reach and hurriedly climbing 
               down the rope.

               Clifford reaches out and tries to grab at the rope. At last, 
               he gets it, and he shakes it violently to get Duncan to lose 
               his grip and be dashed against the stone floor below.

               But Duncan holds firm, climbing ever downward. The bell 
               continues to clang, sending its alarm out into the night. 
               Then Clifford braces himself and slowly, laboriously begins 
               to haul up on the rope.

               Clifford gains momentum until Duncan is being pulled up faster 
               than he is climbing down. Still twenty feet off the ground, 
               Duncan lets go of the rope and plummets to the hard stone 
               floor.

               Then PEOPLE come rushing into the church, awakened by the 
               commotion of the bells. Duncan rolls into the shadows and 
               drags himself out a side door, while Clifford plans his own 
               escape from the bell tower.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. ALLEYWAY NEAR CHURCH - NIGHT
</b>
               Clifford runs up the alleyway, looks around and finally 
               realizes he's lost his prey.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. ANOTHER ALLEYWAY
</b>
               Duncan is hidden deep in the shadows of a nook between two 
               buildings, catching his breath. CAMERA MOVES IN on him, and 
               we see him looking the craziest he's ever been. He shakes 
               uncontrollably and begins to mumble, softly at first, then 
               getting louder. He's falling back into the grips of Guy du 
               Marraux.

<b>                                                               DISSOLVE TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. CITY - MORNING
</b>
               A. All is still and quiet as soft, warm sunlight pours into 
               the dirty streets and alleyways. In the background, the bell 
               tower of the church rises above the skyline.

               B. We see a SHOT of the park -- all the bums are asleep.

               C. Then a SHOT of the mission -- its front door open, the 
               sidewalk empty.

               D. Then the bar, where the same peaceful mood prevails.

               E. Then the alleyway where we last saw Curt Duncan. Now he 
               is gone.

               F. Then the exterior of Tracy's apartment building. Clifford's 
               car is parked out front.

<b>                                     TRACY (O.S.)
</b>                         I used to see my two kids every 
                         weekend. They lived in a nice house 
                         with their father, outside the city.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. TRACY'S APARTMENT
</b>
               Tracy and Clifford are sitting at a small table in the 
               kitchen, looking haggard, drinking coffee.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Now... it's been years. They're grown 
                         up.

               They look at each other. Clifford is a sympathetic listener.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I look at where I am now. I know I 
                         could've done better, but... it's 
                         too late for that.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (quietly)
                         I know.

               Pause.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Well, you've got to keep looking, I 
                         suppose.

               Taking his cue, Clifford slowly rises.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I don't think he'll come back here.

               Tracy looks up at him questioningly, wishing she could feel 
               as sure about it as he does.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (extending his hand)
                         Thanks... for all your help.

               Tracy takes his hand. They shake warmly.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I know it wasn't easy.
                              (turning to go)
                         Maybe, someday, I'll be able to...

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         I wish you wouldn't leave me 
                         altogether...

               Clifford turns back to her.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                              (with a laugh)
                         I'm not a young woman anymore. I've 
                         given up all my dreams of the future. 
                         Now, I just want to make it to the 
                         end. You know what I mean.

               Clifford smiles at her gently. He knows exactly what she 
               means.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         I'll be around.

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Sure.

               Clifford takes a few steps, turns back, looks at her.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         You like ice cream?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Yes.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         What flavor?

<b>                                     TRACY
</b>                         Chocolate chip.

               Clifford nods his head slightly, as if registering this in 
               his memory.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                              (quietly)
                         Okay.

               They smile at each other for a second then Clifford leaves 
               and Tracy sits alone in her kitchen, listening to him go, 
               hearing the door close behind him.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. STREET - DAY
</b>
               CLOSE UP on a section of a newspaper lying in the gutter. A 
               pair of feet enters the frame and stands beside the newspaper. 
               We hear a familiar cough. Then a trembling hand reaches down 
               and picks up the newspaper.

               Pause. Something in the newspaper has caught his eye. Then 
               the feet shuffle out of frame.

<b>                                                                  FADE OUT:
</b>
<b>               FADE IN:
</b>
<b>               EXT. STREET - AFTERNOON
</b>
               A modest middle-income neighborhood where young married 
               couples buy their first home and start their family.

               CAMERA is facing down the quiet street. In the foreground, 
               on the street, two small CHILDREN, a little boy and a little 
               girl, are playing. They are adorable kids.

               CAMERA PANS ninety degrees with the children as they run out 
               of the street and up the sidewalk to their house.

               A TITLE APPEARS across the bottom of the screen:

                               5 pm Friday, April 28, 1978

               TITLE FADES as the children push open the front door and 
               enter the house.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. HOUSE - FOLLOWING CHILDREN
</b>
               They noisily and excitedly make their way to the kitchen.

               The children are four and two and a half years old, STEVIE 
               and JUNE respectively.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. KITCHEN
</b>
               As the kids enter, their MOTHER is working at the stove, her 
               back to CAMERA.

<b>                                     JUNE & STEVIE
</b>                              (together)
                         Hi, Mommy!

               The mother turns around. It is Jill Johnson!

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (smiling)
                         Well, look what the wind blew in!

               CAMERA MOVES IN on her as she comes forward, bends down, 
               kisses Stevie, and picks up June. Jill looks older, more 
               mature, but still very pretty. She is Mrs. John Lockhart 
               now, and has left her memories of the past behind her.

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         Mommy, what's for dinner? Could we 
                         have hamburgers?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (teasing)
                         Is that all you ever want?

               A wall phone in the kitchen starts to ring. Stevie goes to 
               answer it.

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         Hello?

<b>                                     JOHN (O.S.)
</b>                              (surprised)
                         Hey, how's my little tiger?

               It is JOHN LOCKHART on the phone.

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         Daddy, Junie threw my baseball down 
                         the street; and I can't find it!

<b>                                     JOHN (O.S.)
</b>                         Well, we'll look for it real hard 
                         later. Let me talk to mommy.

               Jill, by this time, has come to the phone. She is still 
               holding June.

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         Okay. Bye, daddy.

               Stevie hands the phone to Jill.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hi.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Hi, babe -- whaddya say you put on a 
                         sexy dress, and I take you out to 
                         dinner tonight?

               Jill is very happy about this.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Great... what's the occasion?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                              (teasing)
                         Just a little surprise.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         I'm leaving here now; be home in 
                         half an hour.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Okay, see ya.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Bye, babe.

               As Jill hangs up the phone, Stevie pipes up O.S.

<b>                                     STEVIE (O.S.)
</b>                         Mommy, is Daddy gonna get me a new 
                         baseball?

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. DR. MANDRAKIS' HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               Clifford's car is parked in the driveway, and we see him 
               getting out. He goes to the front door -- the porch light is 
               on and perhaps one other lamp somewhere inside the otherwise 
               dark house. He rings the bell, waits, rings again...

               Finally the door is opened by the Houseboy.

<b>                                     HOUSEBOY
</b>                         Dr. and Mrs. Mandrakis are out of 
                         town.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         For how long?

<b>                                     HOUSEBOY
</b>                         Three more weeks.

               Pause.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         It's just as well. Will you be here?

<b>                                     HOUSEBOY
</b>                         Yes.

               Clifford takes a business card from his pocket and gives it 
               to the Houseboy.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Here. Call if you need me.

               The Houseboy reads the card as Clifford walks back to his 
               car. Then the Houseboy closes the front door.

               Clifford pauses beside his car for a moment, looking back at 
               the rich, dark home.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. JILL'S HOUSE - CHILDREN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
</b>
               The children are in bed. Jill is sitting next to Stevie. 
               Only a nightlight is on.

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         ...I pray the Lord my soul to keep. 
                         If I die before I wake, I pray the 
                         Lord my soul to take. God bless Mommy 
                         and Daddy and...

<b>                                     JUNE
</b>                         And me.

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         ...and Granmom and Aunt Lucy and 
                         Uncle George...

<b>                                     JUNE
</b>                         And me!

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                              (pausing)
                         ...and her. Now will you tell us a 
                         story?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No, I will not tell you a story. You 
                         go to sleep now. And be good. Carol 
                         will be here while we're gone.

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         Goodnight.

               Jill kisses him.

<b>                                     JUNE
</b>                         Mommy, will you come here a minute? 
                         I want to tell you something.

               Jill stands up and goes over to June's bed.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What is it?

<b>                                     JUNE
</b>                         Come closer.

               Jill bends closer to her daughter. O.S. the doorbell rings.

<b>                                     JUNE
</b>                         I love you.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I love you, too, Junebug.
                              (kissing her)
                         Goodnight. Sleep tight.

               Jill stands up and leaves.

<b>               INT. FRONT HALL
</b>
               As Jill comes down the stairs. CAROL, the sitter, is at the 
               foot of the stairs with John. Carol has an armful of 
               schoolbooks.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hi, Carol.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Hello, Mrs. Lockhart. I saw your 
                         picture in the paper the other day. 
                         Congratulations.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Ugggh... wasn't it a dreadful picture?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         I thought it was nice.

               Jill crosses to a hall table, picks up a phone book, flips 
               through it, then writes on a notepad beside the phone. Over 
               this action...

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Are the kids asleep?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         They will be soon.
                              (to Carol)
                         Give them about twenty minutes and 
                         then take a peek -- but if Stevie 
                         sees you, you'll have to tell him a 
                         story.
                              (beat)
                         Here's the number of the restaurant. 
                         Call us if you need us. For police, 
                         ambulance, any emergency like that, 
                         just dial 911. You know that, right?

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Nine-one-one? Oh, sure.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         And just in case, I've written the 
                         number of the children's Uncle George 
                         and Aunt Lucy here, too.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Honey, in ten seconds I eat the 
                         staircase.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Okay. Okay.

               She puts down the pad and crosses to a closet where she takes 
               out a lightweight coat.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (handing the coat to 
                              John)
                         Here.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                              (not taking the coat)
                         I'm not wearing that thing!

               Jill shoves the coat into his stomach. Smiling, he takes the 
               coat and dutifully helps her on with it.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Have a good time.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Thanks, Carol.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                              (pulling her out the 
                              door)
                         Bye, Carol.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Goodbye.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Goodbye.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               John and Jill walk to the station wagon in the driveway as 
               Carol shuts the front door in the background. Just before 
               Jill gets into the car, she takes a look back at the house -- 
               there is a moment's hesitance, and then she gets in the car.

<b>               INT. HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               Carol picks up the phone and carries it into the living room 
               with her. As she does it, we see lying on the phone table, 
               the newspaper clipping with Jill's picture, and headline: 
               "Jill Lockhart Chairs Community UNICEF Drive."

               She puts the phone down, then her books, then herself. She 
               dials a number. Her BOYFRIEND answers.

<b>                                     BOYFRIEND (O.S.)
</b>                         Hello?

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Hi. It's me.

<b>                                     BOYFRIEND (O.S.)
</b>                         Oh, hi.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Can you come over?

<b>                                     BOYFRIEND (O.S.)
</b>                         I can't. I really have a lot of work 
                         to do.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                              (disappointed)
                         Ohhh...

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
</b>
               An Italian Restaurant. Quiet music, soft lights, red and 
               white checkered tablecloths, candles, a smokey and seductive 
               atmosphere.

               DOLLY with a LATIN WAITER carrying a huge tray of food over- 
               head. He passes right by the table where Jill and John are 
               sitting. John watches him take the food to someone else.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                              (reaching for a 
                              breadstick)
                         I've eaten enough breadsticks to 
                         turn into a pretzel.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         John, tell me about the surprise.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Oh, yeah. Brace yourself.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I'm braced.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Good. I got the sack today.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What sack?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         The can... I was fired!

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Oh, sure.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         You don't believe me?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         No, I don't believe you.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Well, Wally did call me into his 
                         office today. And he did tell me I 
                         didn't have my old job anymore.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (getting excited)
                         John, what did you get?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Are you ready for this?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (guessing)
                         District Sales Manager!

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Regional!

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Regional?!

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Nah, District.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (beside herself)
                         John, I don't believe it! District 
                         Sales Manager!

               The WAITER arrives with their food.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Well, it's about time!

               The waiter looks up, offended.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (to waiter)
                         Not you.
                              (back to John)
                         It's about time they recognized you 
                         for what you are.

<b>                                     WAITER
</b>                         Enjoy your dinner, folks.

               They ignore him. He moves away. John digs right in.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                              (mouth full)
                         I'll be the youngest District Manager 
                         in the company's history. God, am I 
                         hungry!

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (not eating yet)
                         Does this mean a raise?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         It sure does.

               John flags down a passing WAITER and signals that their wine 
               glasses need filling.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         How much?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         A lot.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         How much?

               John leans forward and whispers in her ear.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         You're kidding! And a car?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         And a car.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         John, I'm so proud of you.

               John pauses, looks at her.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         What's the matter? You don't like 
                         your food?

               The MAITRE D' has come up to the table. John stops suddenly. 
               They are both very chagrined.

<b>                                     MAITRE D'
</b>                         Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         That's right.

<b>                                     MAITRE D'
</b>                         There's a telephone call for you.

               John starts to get up. Jill grabs his arm.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Eat your dinner. It's probably Carol. 
                         I'll talk to her.

               Jill stands up and follows the Maitre D' through the other 
               tables to the telephone. She picks up the receiver. CAMERA 
               MOVES in on her.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Hello?

               Pause.

<b>                                     DUNCAN (O.S.)
</b>                         Have you checked the children?

               Jill screams and falls to the floor.

<b>               ANGLE ON JOHN
</b>
               Around him, other DINERS fall instantly silent and wonder 
               what is going on. WAITERS stop dead in their tracks.

               John leaps up from his seat and dashes through the tables 
               like a madman. Suddenly the restaurant comes alive with 
               excitement and alarm.

<b>               ANGLE ON JILL
</b>
               As John runs up and drops to his knees beside her. She is 
               shaking and sobbing uncontrollably.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Jill, what's happening? What's wrong?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         It was him! Somebody call the police! 
                         Help me!

               Other PEOPLE have crowded around and are making urgent noises 
               now about calling the police, an ambulance, etc. John tries 
               to cut through the confusion and anxiety.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Wait a minute! Just hold on! 
                         Sweetheart, what was him? What are 
                         you talking about?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         That man... Curt Duncan... He's home 
                         again! He's got our children!

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         He was on the phone?

               Jill nods.

               John grabs the telephone and quickly dials a number. The 
               crowd tries to quiet down, as much to hear for themselves as 
               to let John talk. The phone rings and rings. Finally...

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Hello?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Hello, Carol, it's Mr. Lockhart. 
                         What's going on over there?

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Nothing's going on.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Is everything all right?

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Yes, there's nothing --

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Are you sure?

               Pause.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Everything's fine. Why? What's --?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Carol, listen to me very carefully. 
                         If there's a man in the house, if 
                         there's any reason why you can't 
                         talk to me right now, just answer 
                         yes to me over the phone. That's 
                         all. If there's any danger of any 
                         kind, just say yes.

               Long pause. They wait for her answer. Jill is listening into 
               the receiver now, too.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         I don't understand what's happening. 
                         What man in the house?

               Jill is confused. John breathes a guarded sigh of relief. 
               Jill takes the phone.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Carol, it's Mrs. Lockhart. Answer me 
                         truthfully. When was the last time 
                         you looked in on the children?

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         About forty-five minutes ago. 
                         Everything's fine. They were fast 
                         asleep.

               Jill gives her husband a look. John takes the phone again.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Carol, I'm sorry about all the 
                         hysterics. We're leaving the 
                         restaurant now. We'll explain 
                         everything when we get home. Before 
                         we hang up, could you do just one 
                         more thing for me, please?

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Would you go upstairs and, and check 
                         on the children for me?

               Jill is violently shaking her head. John silences her with a 
               gesture.

<b>                                     CAROL
</b>                         Sure. Hold on.

               Carol O.S. puts the phone down. Then there is silence on the 
               other end. The crowd of people around Jill and John begin to 
               shuffle and murmur. John tries to keep them quiet while 
               listening into the phone.

               Then TWO POLICEMEN come forward through the crowd. One of 
               them kneels down to John and Jill who are still on the floor.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1
</b>                         What seems to be the problem here, 
                         sir?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                              (whispering)
                         Officer, I'm John Lockhart. Just a 
                         second please, and I'll explain 
                         everything.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (whispering to 
                              Policeman)
                         I'm Jill Johnson, the babysitter 
                         seven years ago with the child killer.

               This means nothing to Policeman #1.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         The babysitter. The guy got into the 
                         house and killed the two children 
                         upstairs.

               Policeman #2 kneels down now.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #2
</b>                              (whispering)
                         Oh, yeah, I remember something about 
                         that. A Greek doctor...

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         That's right. That's the one.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #2
</b>                              (to Policeman #1)
                         It was in the seventh precinct...

               As the two policemen and John mumble between themselves, 
               Jill takes the telephone.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (listening)
                         Hello?

               She presses the receiver tighter to her ear.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Carol?

               John quiets down the policeman. Jill can now hear what she 
               couldn't a second ago.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (growing hysterical)
                         Carol? Carol?!

               ZOOM into the telephone until we can also hear what Jill is 
               reacting to. It grows louder and louder... A dial tone.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               EXT. LOCKHART HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               John and Jill pull up in the station wagon followed by a 
               squad car -- no sirens or lights. They all get out and rush 
               for the front door.

               John pulls out his key to open the door... and discovers 
               that it's unlocked. Cautiously, they step inside.

<b>               INT. FRONT HALL
</b>
               They look into the living room. Carol isn't there.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Carol? Carol?

               No answer. The policemen tentatively draw their guns. Jill 
               bolts up the stairway.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Jill!

               Policeman #2 runs up after her.

<b>               INT. UPSTAIRS HALL
</b>
               As Jill runs down to the children's bedroom followed by 
               Policeman #2. She opens the door and rushes inside.

<b>               INT. CHILDREN'S BEDROOM
</b>
               The children are in bed, asleep. Policeman #2 stands in the 
               doorway as Jill goes up to June and bends over her.

<b>                                     JUNE
</b>                              (opening her eyes)
                         Mommy?

               Jill kisses her gently on the forehead.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Sshhh...

               June closes her eyes and immediately falls back to sleep. 
               Jill walks over to Stevie's bed and looks down at him. He 
               turns slightly in his sleep.

               Satisfied that her children are safe, Jill pulls up the covers 
               on Stevie and then walks slowly out of the bedroom.

<b>               INT. UPSTAIRS HALL
</b>
               Jill quietly pulls the door shut, and Policeman #2 walks 
               back up the hallway. Jill leans against the wall and buries 
               her face in her hands. She is drained. She starts to cry.

<b>                                     JOHN (O.S.)
</b>                         Nothing was wrong?

<b>                                     CAROL (O.S.)
</b>                         When I got back to the phone, the 
                         line was dead. I figured we got cut 
                         off somehow. What's been going on?

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. BEDROOM - LATER THAT NIGHT
</b>
               Jill is sitting on a corner of the bed, looking at the floor. 
               John sits on the other corner, facing away from her, slowly 
               unbuttoning his shirt. After a long silence...

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What are you thinking about?

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         If I ever get my hands on the guy 
                         that made that call...

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         John, it wasn't a prank. I know that 
                         voice.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         He disguised it though, didn't he? 
                         Same as before?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         I know that voice.

               Pause.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         How can we just sit here?

               John turns and moves over beside her.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Look, we promised never to talk about 
                         this.

               REACTION SHOT of Jill. She is shocked.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         What are we supposed to do? Leave 
                         town? Take the kids and lock ourselves 
                         up somewhere? Come on... Let's get a 
                         good night's sleep, and in the morning 
                         we can rethink this whole thing.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Nothing has to be rethought. And I'm 
                         not about to fall asleep.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Try to relax, honey. I'm here. We're 
                         both here. The house is locked up. 
                         The cops'll be just outside all night 
                         long. We're safe now.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         That's what they told me before.

               John stands up and goes to his dresser.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Okay. Look. If it'll make you feel 
                         any better...

               He takes a revolver from the dresser drawer and emphatically 
               checks the action. Then he walks to his side of the bed and 
               sets the pistol on his bedside table.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         I'll keep it right here beside me 
                         all night. You know I'm a light 
                         sleeper and a damn good shot. Are 
                         you satisfied?

               Pause. Jill tries to smile.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         John, I'm sorry to be putting you 
                         through all this.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         Hey, you're not putting me through 
                         anything that you don't have to go 
                         through yourself. I'm with you all 
                         the way. Trust me. Okay?

               Jill nods. John leans forward and kisses her.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                         That's my girl.

               He gets up and walks out of the room talking.

<b>                                     JOHN (O.S.)
</b>                         Now try to relax. We'll get some 
                         sleep. You'll be surprised how 
                         differently things will look in the 
                         morning.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (complaining)
                         Honey...

<b>                                     JOHN (O.S.)
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Not so loud. You're going to wake 
                         the children.

               John comes back into the bedroom with a glass of water and a 
               couple of pills in his hand.

<b>                                     JOHN
</b>                              (smiling)
                         Naw. Those kids'd sleep through an 
                         earthquake. They're good kids.
                              (handing her the pills 
                              and water)
                         Here, take a couple of these. They're 
                         just what the doctor ordered.

<b>               CLOSEUP - JILL
</b>
               As she takes the pills and swallows them, one at a time.

<b>                                     JOHN (O.S.)
</b>                         You know, I read somewhere about 
                         this psychological thing called 
                         hysterical delusion or hysterical 
                         recall or something. It had to do 
                         with how an event from your past can 
                         sneak up on you sometimes and fool 
                         you when it's only just a memory. I 
                         don't know. We'll talk about it in 
                         the morning. Maybe there's someone 
                         we can see about that...

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT
</b>
               The lounge area in the back of the station. At one table, 
               three OFFICERS are playing bridge. Garber with his back to 
               CAMERA rounds out their game.

               At a nearby table closer to CAMERA, Policeman #1 is working 
               on a crossword puzzle. POLICEMAN #3, sitting next to him, is 
               reading a paperback novel.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1
</b>                         What's a word for "an outsider, of 
                         sorts"?

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #3
</b>                         Trespasser.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1
</b>                         Uh-uh. Eight letters.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #3
</b>                         Stranger.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1
</b>                         Uh-uh. Starts with an "I".

               Policeman #3 thinks briefly, then goes back to his novel. 
               Policeman #2 enters the room carrying a printout of some 
               sort.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #2
</b>                         Hey, Bert. A report just came in on 
                         that guy, Curt Duncan.

<b>               ANGLE ON GARBER
</b>
               At the bridge table, perking up his ears, looking around.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #2 (O.S.)
</b>                         Broke outta the nuthouse two months 
                         ago.

               Garber is keeping only half an eye on the card game. He pulls 
               a card from his hand and throws it down.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1 (O.S.)
</b>                         Oh, yeah? You going to put that in 
                         our report?

<b>                                     OFFICER #1 (O.S.)
</b>                         Diamonds, Charlie. Diamonds was led.

               Garber hastily picks up his card and throws down another.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #2 (O.S.)
</b>                         Course I'm going to put it in the 
                         report. Maybe this gal tonight really 
                         did get a call from him. Who knows?

<b>                                     OFFICER #1 (O.S.)
</b>                         Your lead, Charlie.

               Garber throws down another card.

<b>                                     OFFICER #1 (O.S.)
</b>                         What the hell are you doing? That's 
                         a trump.

<b>                                     OFFICER #2 (O.S.)
</b>                         A card laid is a card played.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1 (O.S.)
</b>                         Yeah, you're right. We'd better leave 
                         that on Ruznik's desk in the morning.

<b>                                     OFFICER #2 (O.S.)
</b>                         Toss 'em in. I got the rest.

<b>                                     OFFICER #1 (O.S.)
</b>                         Jesus Kay-Reist!

               Garber throws down his cards. He stands up and approaches 
               Policeman #2.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Hey, Tucker, lemme see that a minute.

               Policeman #2 hands the sheet of paper to Garber. Garber 
               quickly scans the information.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         You guys have a stake on the house?

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #2
</b>                         Bernstein and Waller are checkin' it 
                         every twenty minutes or so.

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                              (handing back the 
                              sheet)
                         Thanks.

               Garber exits to his office. Policeman #2 walks over to where 
               Policeman #1 is still sitting, working the crossword.

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1
</b>                         Hey, what's an eight letter word for 
                         "an outsider, of sorts"? Starts with 
                         an "I".

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #2
</b>                         Intruder!

<b>                                     POLICEMAN #1
</b>                         Right! Intruder!

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. GARBER'S OFFICE - NIGHT
</b>
               Garber sits thinking for a moment. He is trying to come to a 
               decision. He reaches for the phone and dials. It rings and 
               then is picked up.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD (O.S.)
</b>                         Hello?

<b>                                     GARBER
</b>                         Cliff?... I think I got something 
                         for you...

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LOCKHART HOUSE - NIGHT
</b>
               A shot of the downstairs hall. All is dark and still, very 
               still.

<b>               INT. BEDROOM
</b>
               Jill is tossing in her sleep. John is fast asleep next to 
               her, on his side facing away from her. Then, Jill wakes up. 
               She is heavily sedated, groggy. She hardly knows where she 
               is at first.

               She pulls herself up to a sitting position on the side of 
               the bed. She tries to gather her wits. Then she gets up and 
               walks slowly out of the room.

<b>               FOLLOWING JILL
</b>
               Through the upstairs hallway, down the staircase and toward 
               the kitchen. The darkness around her is ominous, threatening.

               She stops at the dining room window and looks out. On the 
               street a patrol car slowly passes and disappears down the 
               block.

<b>               INT. KITCHEN
</b>
               Jill enters, turns on the light, opens a cupboard and takes 
               out a glass. She goes to the refrigerator and opens it. 
               Suddenly, the lights go out.

               Jill closes the refrigerator door and goes and turns on 
               another light. Apparently, only a lightbulb has blown. Jill 
               unscrews the burned-out bulb from its socket and throws it 
               in the trash.

               She leaves the kitchen.

<b>               INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALL
</b>
               Jill walks to a hall closet and opens it. A light comes on 
               inside as she does so. A puzzled, half-startled expression 
               comes onto her face.

<b>               JILL'S POV
</b>
               Inside the closet, half the hangers with coats, etc., are on 
               the floor.

               Sound over: A telephone being dialed.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. CLIFFORD'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
</b>
               Clifford has just finished dialing the phone. He waits, 
               nothing happens. Then a strange, siren-like noise comes out 
               of the telephone. Clifford listens, then hangs up.

               He picks up the .38 he has lying on the desk and idly starts 
               flipping the cartridge chamber with one of his jimmy needles. 
               After a moment, he lays the gun down and picks up the phone 
               again, this time calling the OPERATOR.

<b>                                     OPERATOR (O.S.)
</b>                         Operator.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Can you dial a local number for me?

<b>                                     OPERATOR (O.S.)
</b>                         What is the number, please?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b><b>                         555-2183.
</b>
               The operator dials. There is a pause. Then the same strange 
               noise cuts in.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Operator, what does that mean?

<b>                                     OPERATOR (O.S.)
</b>                         I'm sorry, sir, that line seems to 
                         be disconnected.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Why don't I get a recording?

<b>                                     OPERATOR (O.S.)
</b>                         I don't know, sir. Maybe the number 
                         was just recently disconnected. Maybe 
                         there's a temporary malfunction in 
                         the wiring. Why don't you try it 
                         again in the morning?

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Yeah, okay. Thanks.

<b>                                                                    CUT TO:
</b>
<b>               INT. LOCKHART HOME - UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT
</b>
               Jill is walking down the hall to the children's bedroom. She 
               opens the door.

<b>               INT. CHILDREN'S BEDROOM
</b>
               As Jill quietly enters. The children are asleep. Jill goes 
               to June and tucks her in. Then she walks over to Stevie's 
               bed. He is sleeping, but with a Sugar Daddy in his hand. 
               Jill looks down at him, again puzzled. She leans over, takes 
               the Sugar Daddy and gently wakes him.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Stevie... Stevie...

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                              (stirring, but not 
                              fully awake)
                         Yes?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Stevie, listen to me. Where did you 
                         get this candy?

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                         What?

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         Where did you get this?

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                              (very groggy)
                         The man gave it to me...

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         What man?

<b>                                     STEVIE
</b>                              (drifting off)
                         I don't know... He was... Wings on a 
                         horse...

               He closes his eyes and is asleep.

               Jill stands up, turns and starts to walk out of the room. 
               Halfway across the floor, Jill stops. She stands rigid as a 
               thought penetrates her own drowsiness. She turns very slowly 
               and moves to the closet in the children's bedroom.

               She stands before it a moment. Then she reaches her hand 
               forward for the knob on the closet door. She very slowly 
               pulls the door open. She looks inside. There is nothing.

               Jill quietly closes the closet door and leaves the room.

<b>               INT. BEDROOM
</b>
               Jill enters. John is still asleep facing the wall. Jill gets 
               into bed, sitting up. She is wide awake now. She sits for a 
               moment in the darkness, thinking.

               Then she reaches for the princess phone on the bedside table. 
               She doesn't get a dial tone. She quietly pushes the phone's 
               disconnect button up and down several times. Still no dial 
               tone.

               Jill hangs up and thinks for another moment, apprehension 
               creeping over her face.

               Then, in the darkness of the bedroom, she begins to hear the 
               muttering of a man's voice, low and deep. It is Duncan in 
               the throes of Guy du Marraux.

               Jill freezes. As the voice gets steadily louder and more 
               menacing, her attention focuses on the door to the bedroom 
               closet which is a couple of inches ajar.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                              (urgently whispering)
                         John?... John?...

               She reaches for the bedside lamp and turns it on, never taking 
               her eyes away from the closet door. As soon as the light 
               comes on, the voice stops.

               Her eyes still riveted to the door, Jill grabs her husband's 
               shoulder and shakes him, her voice cracking with fear.

<b>                                     JILL
</b>                         John!... John!...

               The body beside her stirs, rolls over, looks at her hideously. 
               It is Duncan!!

               Jill shrieks, and makes a move to leap out of the bed.

               Duncan, the hideous and terrifying sound of his madness 
               grumbling out of his throat, manages to grab the back of her 
               nightgown.

               As Jill struggles to get off the bed, the gown rips slightly 
               while she fights to get away.

               Duncan rolls to her side of the bed and manages to grab Jill's 
               ankle while letting go of the gown. It causes Jill to lose 
               her balance and tumble onto the floor just short of the 
               doorway leading out of the room.

               Duncan is on her in a flash, clutching at her and moving his 
               hands for her throat. Jill screams again. It is the desperate 
               sound of a woman facing certain death.

               Suddenly, two quick shots ring out, overwhelming all other 
               sound. Duncan falls back with a groan and a thud.

               Out of the darkness of the hallway steps Clifford, pistol in 
               hand. He crosses to Duncan. He is dead. Then Clifford walks 
               around the room to the far side of the bed and looks down.

               On the narrow strip of floor between the bed and the wall 
               lies John. Clifford nudges the body with his foot. John stirs, 
               as if he has been knocked unconscious, but it will be some 
               time yet before he comes to.

               Clifford starts to walk out of the room, stepping over 
               Duncan's body, edging past Jill who is propped up in the 
               doorway, sobbing hysterically.

<b>                                     CLIFFORD
</b>                         Your husband's okay.

               Then he is gone.

               As Jill sits there unable to rein in her emotions, June and 
               Stevie toddle up to her groggily from the hallway.

<b>                                     JUNE
</b>                         Mommy?

               Jill clutches her children to her heaving breast and buries 
               her face between them.

<b>               INT. DOWNSTAIRS HALL
</b>
               Looking through the open front doorway into the quiet night 
               beyond.

<b>                                                                  FADE OUT:
</b>
<b>                                         THE END
</b>

</pre><br>
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	<td><h1>When a Stranger Calls</h1><br><br>
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What is the stranger's name?
What is the stranger s name ?
Curt Duncan
Curt Duncan
Curt Duncan.
Curt Duncan .