Monday, March 27, 2017

The Listener

Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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[ bottom ]
            
Written by Marcy Green

EXT. AN APARTMENT WINDOW - HIGH NOON

             As seen through binoculars.  A figure moves inside.

                                 FIGURE 1
                            (electronic sounding)
                       You kids wash up for dinner.

                                 KIDS
                            (distant)
                       Oh!  We're watching TV!

                                 FIGURE 1
                       You get washed up!

             POV pans, searching.  Finds a man leaning out a window.  His
             mouth is moving but there is no sound.  Suddenly, there is:

                                 MAN
                       --and, get some beer!

             A man below nods and heads up the sidewalk.

             POV pans, stopping at a window with some movement.  The SOUND
             OF PEOPLE HAVING SEX rises and becomes clear.

             POV pans to another window.  A man can be seen watching TV.
             The SOUND OF HIS TV rises and becomes clear.

             INT. HENRY LYMAN'S FOURTH FLOOR APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

             SOUNDS OF TRAFFIC, ARGUMENTS, BABIES CRYING

             It's hot!  HENRY LYMAN crouches by the window and sweats.  He
             has headphones on.  He sets a directional mic on the floor.

             Sweat trickles down his pallid face, hangs in the corner of a
             permanent smirk, and continues to his weak chin.

             He's a very young thirty-two.  Maybe immature would be more
             accurate.  His ratty tee-shirt, blue jeans, and hi-top
             sneakers amplify the effect.  Anger is his only mature trait.

             His mild, attractive features are soft and feminine.  They
             intimate poetry, but deliver loathing.

             He's in the living room.  A stool sits before a covered
             painting on an easel.  Several paintings lean against the
             wall at all angles.  A work table is covered with tubes of
             oil paint and brushes soaking in colorful milky liquid.

             Next to one wall, there are empty beer bottles and a tape
             recorder, and a candle.  There are two doors, both closed.
             There's nothing else in the room.  No lamps, carpet, or TV.

             He takes a swig of beer and a drag of a crumpled cigarette.
             He wipes sweat from his brow, his hand smudged with paint and
             trains his sharp eyes out the window

             Henry raises binoculars to his eyes.

             EXT. INNER-CITY NEIGHBORHOOD - CONTINUOUS

             Block after block of squat, dull apartment buildings, failing
             businesses, gas stations, bars, and convenience stores, as
             far as you can see until they fade into the rippling smog.

             Kids play in the shower of on opened hydrant.  The cops show
             up.  Sweaty cops.  The kids run away.  The cops turn the
             hydrant off.  The water runs down the street into the drain.

             A couple of kids walk up the block toward Henry's building.

             Henry points a directional microphone at them.

                                 KID 1
                            (through phones)
                       My feet are burning!

                                 KID 2
                       They going to burn off!

             Laughing, they clomp into their apartment building.

             Henry points the mic to an old woman.  A couple kids run past
             her - her startled reaction makes Henry smirk.

             Henry takes a deep hit off a cigarette, all the way to the
             butt.  He drops it in the beer bottle, blows blue smoke,
             stands and crosses to the door.  The floor SQUEAKS.

             INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE DOOR FOUR-TWELVE - DAY

             Henry springs out, silently closes the door - pressing it,
             making sure the latch doesn't pop into place.  Loft 412.

             He doesn't lock the door.  He carries an army surplus
             shoulder bag.

             There are doors only on one side of the hall.  The other side
             is a plain wall.  Henry stands still, listening.

             MUFFLED CONVERSATION, A BABY CRIES, A BALL BEING BOUNCED

             After a few seconds, he rushes down the hall.  Quietly.

             INT. MRS. JONES' APARTMENT - DAY

             It's quiet.

             One long room - a shoe box of a loft.  At one end is an
             elderly woman, MRS. JONES.  She sits peacefully doing her
             knitting - something red, perhaps a sweater - rocking back
             and forth in a rocking chair, not bothered by the heat.

             She enjoys it here, next to the window.  Her kitchen is in
             the middle of the loft, and her bedroom is at the other end.

             Her apartment is the length of three normal apartments.

             Mrs. Jones watches each looping stitch with careful, kind
             blue eyes.  She stops rocking, stops knitting, and listens.

             INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE DOOR FIVE-TWELVE - CONTINUOUS

             Henry stands outside a door numbered 512 with MANAGER
             stenciled on it.  He listens - nothing.  He knocks - the door
             opens before he can lower his arm.

                                 MRS. JONES
                            (civil, cheerful)
                       Well.  You're on time this month.

                                 HENRY
                            (shy)
                       Yeah.

             Henry hands her folded cash.  She takes it.  There is a long
             moment between them, as if something else should happen.
             Nothing does so Henry just leaves. 

                                 HENRY
                       Okay.  Bye.

             Mrs. Jones likes him even though he's a rude little shit.  If
             she were younger...  Well, forty years younger!

             HALLWAY, THIRD FLOOR - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry slinks down the hall, quick, quiet, hugging the wall.

             Behind Henry, a tenant leaves his apartment.  Henry winces.

             TENANT'S POV: Henry scurries silently down the stairs looking
             back over his shoulder at the tenant.  Anger, fear, and
             alienation spiking his eyes.  Henry disappears around the
             corner of the landing and is gone.

             INT. METAL WORKSHOP - DAY

             A man wearing a wielding helmet.  He works close.  Sparks
             fly.  He raises the visor.  It's Henry.  He is pleased.

             A newly wielded joint glows red.  A ceiling fire sprinkler
             has been wielded to a frame made of pipes.

             INT. ART GALLERY - DAY

             Henry admires a modern painting.  He holds a frame for a
             painting made of pipes with fire sprinklers, faucets, water
             valves, and spigots wielded onto it.

             He is being eyed suspiciously by an elegant man wearing an
             expensive suit.  Henry picks up the vibe and leaves.

             INT. THE DEN - DAY

             A dusty dive.  No music.

             CLAY MARTIN sweats.  She reads a dog-eared romance, turns the
             page already knowing what happens next.  A few years back,
             she read college text books while working part-time in this
             dump.  Now, she is behind the bar most days, her text books
             sold for rent money a long time ago. 

             She wipes the sweat from her brow.  Someone enters.  She
             finishes the paragraph before dragging her dull eyes up to
             see who.  It's just him.

                                 CLAY
                       You're early. 

             Henry takes his usual place, the opposite end of the bar, and
             dumps the shoulder bag on the next stool.

                                 HENRY
                       It's hot today.

             This is Henry's way of ordering a beer.  Clay flops the book
             onto the counter, shambles to the tap, draws a cool brew.

             Henry checks her out.  She's sexy in a sleeveless tee shirt
             and tight black pants.  No bra, either.  Nice.

             He checks the contents of an ashtray.  Butts, smoked all the
             way down.  Shit, that's too bad.

                                 CLAY
                       It's hot everyday.

             Henry pulls a metal Altoids box from the shoulder bag.
             Inside are three half-smoked cigarettes.

                                 HENRY
                       Turn the AC on.

             Clay tops off the beer, looks around.  A single customer sits
             in the back staring into space - an old man remembering a
             time when he might have made something of himself.

                                 CLAY
                       Owner won't let me.

             Clay brings the beer, as animated as a slug.

                                 CLAY
                       They do at night.  When there's
                       people.

             She stops short.  Foam spills onto the bar.  Pay first.

                                 HENRY
                       Oh, fuck.  I swear to God.

             He digs into his pocket, comes up with crumpled, sweaty
             bills, unfolds a few, drops them on the bar.  There!

             He's such a loser.  Cute, but a loser.  She serves him, takes
             the money with a melted smirk.

             Henry watches her drag the money down the bar to the
             register.  She rings up the sale and slides a quarter back to
             him.  It stops at his fingertips.  She goes back to reading.

             Henry drops the quarter in the tip jar.  It bounces off the
             single dollar bill at the bottom.

             Clay reads.  Henry gulps down half his beer.  He lights his
             cigarette, glancing at Clay.

                                 HENRY
                       You want to talk?

                                 CLAY
                            (reading)
                       Gotta work.

             He checks the nearly empty bar.  Right, you 'gotta work'.

                                 HENRY
                       I might get a show.

             Oh, please!  She lowers the book and stares at him.  She's
             heard this before. 

                                 HENRY
                            (lights cigarette butt)
                       I'm working on getting a show.

             She tosses the remnants of a pack of cigarettes to him.

                                 HENRY
                       Thanks.

             She usually won't give him any.  She tries not to show she
             cares for him.  She's good at it.

             She watches him snub out the butt and replace it in the
             Altoids box.

                                 CLAY
                       What's your excuse?

                                 HENRY
                       What?

             The pack has three cigarettes.  Henry slowly pulls one out
             admiring its newness.

                                 CLAY
                       When are you going to get a job?

                                 HENRY
                       It's too hot.

             He lights up.  She looks at him, waiting for a better answer.

                                 HENRY
                       I'm an artist.  What do you expect?
                       I got a future.  You're a
                       bartender.  You got no future.

                                 CLAY
                       Grow up.

                                 HENRY
                       It's only a matter of time.

                                 CLAY
                       You been saying that--

                                 HENRY
                            (polite)
                       --Shut up.

                                 CLAY
                       'Time' is passing you by.

             Whatever.  He can't be bothered.

             Clay gives up.  He'll probably grow old in bars like this.
             She pulls the book up close to her face.

             They stay like this.  They're used to it.  Simmering in their
             own juices.  He exhales blue smoke triumphantly, she turns
             the page resolutely and reads the familiar passages.

             Henry perks up at something he sees out the window. 

             The bar is below street level.  Looking out the window, one
             can see passers-by from their hips down.  Henry takes note of
             a certain pair of legs -- they belong to a large man - he
             wears khakis and heavy, mud-caked work boots.

             Henry stands and gulps his beer, carefully and frantically
             snubs the cigarette out, and puts it in the Altoids box.

                                 HENRY
                       I got to go.

                                 CLAY
                            (reading)
                       Mmm.

             Henry quicksteps out, like a wind-up doll.

             EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

             Henry quickly crosses the street as the man in khakis and
             boots enters the apartment building.

             INT. APARTMENT BUILDING LOBBY - CONTINUOUS

             The man in the khakis and boots, JOE BLOHM, is checking his
             mail.  Mostly bills.  He wears a green uniform shirt with a
             name tag sewn on the breast and its long sleeves rolled up.

             Henry enters, eyes Joe.

             Henry goes to the elevator.  It's the old type with a metal
             lattice gate that folds up when you open it.  Henry presses
             the button, eyes Joe.

             The elevator comes down noisily.  It CLUNKS and SQUEALS.

                                 HENRY
                       I got the elevator.

             Joe looks at Henry with worried eyes.  He tries to forget the
             bills and heads over with his easy, heavy gait.  He smiles at
             Henry with surprising and disarming friendliness.

                                 JOE
                       Thanks.

                                 HENRY
                       Hot day.

                                 JOE
                            (jovial)
                       Fuck yeah.

             The elevator arrives with a squeal.  Henry unlatches the gate
             and opens it - it SQUEALS.  They get in, Henry closes the
             rusty gate and presses a button.

                                 HENRY
                       Four, right?

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.

             Joe realizes Henry knew which floor he lives on.

                                 HENRY
                       I live next door.  Four-twelve.

                                 JOE
                       Oh.  Sorry...  You just move in? 

                                 HENRY
                       That's okay.  We never met. 

             The sweat starts to show through Joe's shirt.

                                 JOE
                       Uh-huh.

             The elevator RATTLES its way up.  Joe lowers the bills, leans
             against the wall.  They listen.

                                 HENRY
                       Bills, huh.

             That's it.  Ten seconds and Joe doesn't like his neighbor.

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.

                                 HENRY
                       Yeah.  What do you do?

             Joe answers only to keep things civil.

                                 JOE
                       I'm a plumber.

                                 HENRY
                       Hot for that kind of work.

                                 JOE
                       Not really.  I'm inside.  Or, under
                       the house.

             Joe is embarrassed to admit this.  Henry loves it.

             The elevator stops.  Neither man makes a move for the gate.

                                 HENRY
                       Yeah, you got to stay out of the
                       sun.

                                 JOE
                            (challenging)
                       What do you do?

                                 HENRY
                       Paint.

                                 JOE
                            (that's respectable)
                       Oh.  Pretty good money.

             Henry shrugs.  Joe tries to get even.

                                 JOE
                       It's hot for that, too.

                                 HENRY
                            (asshole)
                       Paintings.  I'm an artist.

             Joe has been trumped again, but gets the last laugh.

                                 JOE
                       Oh.  That's good 'work'.

             Triumphant, Joe opens the gate and leaves.  Henry follows.

             Henry pretends to unlock his door, glancing at Joe, who is
             fumbling with his keys, one door down to Henry's left - loft
             411.  Joe knows he is being watched and it bothers him.

                                 HENRY
                            (smarmy, baiting)
                       Nice to have met you.

             Joe sighs, drags his eyes up to this little twerp.

                                 JOE
                       You too.

             Joe finally gets the door open, goes in, slams the door.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - MOMENTS LATER

             SOUND OF STREET SOUNDS, KIDS PLAYING, NEIGHBORS, BABIES
             CRYING, ARGUING

             Henry closes his door laughing silently.

             He puts a fan in the window and turns it on.

             Henry sits against the wall, sweating.  He takes a big bite
             of banana, leans back, feeling superior.

             He presses a small, black object to the wall.  It sticks to
             the wall.  It's a microphone with a suction cup, its cable
             trailing off to the floor.

             The mic falls off the wall.  Henry picks it up, licks the
             suction cup and reapplies it to the wall.

             He scrawls the date on a cassette tape, inserts it into a
             very expensive tape recorder.  High-end digital meters spring
             to life as he presses the button marked 'RECORD'.

             He puts on a pair of studio headphones - very expensive.  He
             gets the Altoids box from the shoulder bag and selects a
             choice cigarette butt.

             He takes a swig of beer and lights a half-smoked cigarette.

             SOUND OF JOE'S APT [ON THE HEADPHONES]

             A WINDOW ENVELOPE BEING RIPPED OPEN, UNFOLDING THE BILL

                                 JOE
                       Fuck.

             Henry grins -- a heartless gesture.  Next to him are two
             banana peels, an empty beer bottle.  He tokes the butt. 

             SOUND OF JOE CROSSING THE ROOM IN HEAVY BOOTS

             Henry turns up the volume, blows blue smoke, sweats.

             SOUND OF THE FRIDGE OPENING, A BEER BOTTLE POPS OPEN

             Henry lifts his beer in a silent toast.

             SOUND OF A BOTTLE TOP BOUNCING OFF A TRASH CAN ONTO THE FLOOR

             FOOTFALLS CROSSING THE ROOM

             SOUND OF THE TV - GILLIGAN'S ISLAND

             Henry smirks, closes his eyes, sweats.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

             Henry is still leaning against the wall.  He has fallen
             asleep.  The headphones are on the floor next to him.

             The dark room lights up in flashes from the neon store lights
             below.  They cast weird criss-cross shadows on the ceiling.
             The SOUNDS OF TRAFFIC, BABIES CRYING, AND ARGUMENTS grow
             louder, and become distorted.  The ROAR OF APPROACHING JET.

             The shadows do a dance on the ceiling.  The flashing lights
             hit on menacing shapes in the corners.  The SOUNDS become
             weirder, frightening.  They grow.  The JET ROAR GROWS.  The
             shapes and shadows move toward Henry until he is surrounded.
             The SOUNDS have become a SCREAM. 

             A WHOOSH of steam.  The cloud of steam covers the window.  It
             fills with queer light, adding the final bizarre touch.

             Henry wakes with a start - the SOUNDS AND SHADOWS FADE TO
             NORMAL, THE JET FADES.  Henry glistens with sweat.  He shakes
             off the dream, and lights a candle.  The light is meager but
             warm, and shows that everything in the room is normal. 

             INT. WESTWOOD CANCER CENTER, PRIVATE ROOM - DAY

             LOUISE STEINBECK lies in a hospital bed with lines from four
             IV bags on a stand.  She is sixty and dying of cancer.

             She stares at the ceiling.  An intense gaze - like she is
             having a vision.  Her breath is suspended and her eyes are
             focused on some distant object.

             VICKY SEDILLO, twenty-six, dressed in surgical scrubs,
             enters.  She is weary, as usual, but it doesn't diminish her
             compassion or professionalism.

             Vicky checks the vitals on the Life-Pak monitors. 

             She puts on her most cheerful face, then turns to Louise.

                                 VICKY
                       How are we doing today?

             Louise is lucid and matter of fact.

                                 LOUISE
                            (staring at ceiling)
                       I'm dying.

             Vicky has seen this in terminal patients many times.  They
             stare through the ceiling.  She strokes Louise's forehead.

                                 VICKY
                       You'll be fine.  Are you in pain?

             No response.  Vicky checks the IV's, and leaves.

             Louise stares through the ceiling.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - EVENING

             MURMUR OF TRAFFIC.

             Henry sets a plastic grocery bag on the work table.  He pulls
             bananas out -- they snag!

                                 HENRY
                       Get the!...

             He wrestles with them for a second, then yanks them out.  The
             plastic tears.

                                 HENRY
                       Fucking, stupid!...

             He plunks them down pulls the beer bottles out of the bag.
             They snag!  BA-BUM-BUMP!  BA-BUM-BUMP!!

             Henry curses the beer in a pinched, hissing voice.  A
             restrained scream through clenched teeth.

                                 HENRY
                       Fucking, stupid, piece of shit!...

             Sweat runs into Henry's eyes, he tries to wipe it away and
             excise the beer at the same time.  He hisses.

                                 HENRY
                       Stupid fucking sweat...stupid ass
                       fucking beer!  God damn!

             He finally gets the six-pack out of the bag.  He cranks one
             open, spewing foam, and swipes the tattered bag onto the
             floor. 

             He pulls a letter from his pocket, opens it.  There is money
             folded with the letter - hundreds and twenties.

                                 HENRY
                       Why can't they design...fucking
                       assholes!  Can't get the God damned
                       beer out!

             Henry pockets a some money, hides the rest in a crevice in
             the wall behind the work table, drops the letter.

             SOUND OF A CIGARETTE BEING LIT WITH A LIGHTER

             Henry whirls.  Initial shock changes to relief.

                                 HENRY
                            (angry, intimidated)
                       Fuck!  What do you want?

             THE BALL STOPS BOUNCING

             He is athletic.  His eyes radiate icy confidence and
             intelligence.  At fifty, he must work out to keep in such
             good shape.  He wears an expensive suit cut for a young man.
             He is PETER JENSEN.

                                 PETER
                       Door was open.

                                 HENRY
                       Can't you...

             Peter exhales a thin blue line of smoke, savoring the elegant
             flavor.  He almost paints a picture with the smoke. 

                                 PETER
                       This is a bad neighborhood.  Your
                       money's not safe.

                                 HENRY
                       You're a detective, you're not
                       safe.  Especially in that suit.

             Peter enjoys these pleasantries.  He strolls over, his
             expensive shoes TICK-TOCKING, and pulls a pack of cigarettes
             from his breast pocket.  He offers one to Henry.

             Henry snatches it.

                                 HENRY
                       Thanks.

             Peter offers a light from his gold lighter.

                                 HENRY
                       How the fuck can you wear that?

             Embarrassed, Peter fingers the fine jacket.

                                 PETER
                       I know.  Old-fashioned.  I like the
                       two-button look.  Not so Euro.

             Henry munches the cigarette and blows blue smoke.

                                 HENRY
                       No, man!  How can you wear a suit
                       in this heat?

             Henry looks Peter up and down.  Unreal.  The man isn't
             sweating!  He's a model out of a fashion magazine!

                                 PETER
                       It's all in the mind.

                                 HENRY
                       What do you want?

                                 PETER
                       Just checking in.

                                 PETER
                            (re: directional mic)
                       Hobby?

             Flustered, Henry goes over and covers the mic.  He turns back
             to Peter, who has moved to the work table.

                                 HENRY
                       I listen to bird calls.

             Peter examines the sculptor's knife.

                                 PETER
                       Yeah?  How many types of pigeons
                       are there in this city?

             He puts the knife down and picks up the letter - Henry
             protests but it makes no difference.

             Amused, Peter reads the letter.

                                 PETER
                            (reading)
                       You know, part of the parole
                       agreement is that you get a job.

                                 HENRY
                            (overlap)
                       I know!  Fuck!  I'm looking!

                                 PETER
                       Two more months, pal.

                                 HENRY
                       Are you through?

             Peter finishes the letter and places it on the table.  He
             eyes Henry.  It's a peculiar blend of bemusement and concern.

                                 PETER
                       I'm only concerned.  You don't want
                       to get in trouble again.

                                 HENRY
                       Please.

                                 PETER
                       You know what a cute guy like you
                       would have to put up with?  In
                       prison?

                                 HENRY
                            (so what?)
                       It was B and E! 

                                 PETER
                       Four arrests in four years.  Next
                       time they'll send you away.

                                 HENRY
                       And that would break your heart?

                                 PETER
                       What I don't get is why you didn't
                       steal anything.  Hmm?

             Henry shrugs.

                                 PETER
                       I mean, you were there.  Those
                       people had some nice stuff.
                       Jewelry.

                                 HENRY
                       What am I going to do with jewelry?

                                 PETER
                       Sell it.

                                 HENRY
                       I don't need money.

                                 PETER
                            (taps the letter)
                       Right...

                                 PETER
                       Glad to see you're so close to your
                       mom.

             Henry glares, impatient for Peter to leave.

                                 HENRY
                       I just wanted to see...how people
                       live.  That's all.

             Peter understands this.  Can't blame him.

                                 PETER
                            (re: paintings)
                       Sell these.  Buy your own house.

             Henry regrets telling Peter anything. 

                                 PETER
                       You're talented.

                                 HENRY
                       I just paint for fun.

                                 PETER
                       What are you afraid of?  Success?

                                 HENRY
                       Is there anything else?

             Peter pats Henry's shoulder and leaves.

                                 PETER
                       Get a job, pal.

             Peter closes the door behind him.  Henry picks up the letter.

             SOUND OF RATTLING ELEVATOR COMING UP FOR PETER

             INSERT LETTER WRITTEN WITH CHILDLIKE HANDWRITING:

             My dear son,

             PLEASE come home!!!  How many times do I have to ask???  I
             miss you very, VERY, V E R Y much!!!

             You should be at home with your mother!!!

             Love 4ever,

             Your mother

             RETURN TO SCENE

             Henry's dull eyes tell the story.  This has gone on for
             years.  He loves her but hates this kind of treatment.

             SOUND OF ELEVATOR GATE OPENING/CLOSING

             Into a jar, Henry pours some liquid from the water bottle
             with masking tape on its label.  He dips a paintbrush into
             the liquid.  The paint is leached from the brush making a
             colorful milky liquid.

             Henry paints the letter with the wet brush.

             SOUND OF RATTLING ELEVATOR GOING DOWN, FADING

             After a few seconds and the words fade, then disappear.  The
             last words to fade are: Your mother.

             Henry tosses the paper on the floor under the work table --
             with several other similar blank pieces of paper.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - LATER - EVENING

             MURMUR OF THE CITY, NEIGHBORS, TRAFFIC, A BABY CRIES

             Henry pulls the tarp off a painting.  It's a large canvas
             mounted on a frame made of water pipes.  Bolted on the pipes
             are a spigot, shower head, and a fire sprinkler.

             Henry's work area is situated so that he can watch the goings
             on in the neighborhood out the window.  But, not next to the
             window.  It's back a bit so that he can see out but can't be
             seen himself.

             Henry watches Peter go to his car, get in, and drive away.

             The are several paintings.  They lean at every angle, each
             one framed by water pipes with ceiling fire sprinklers, and
             faucets bolted on.

             The work table is old, sturdy, and plain.  Covered with tubes
             of oil paints.  There are two water bottles - one has a piece
             of tape on the label, the other does not.  Henry takes a
             drink from the bottle without the tape.

             He loads a brush and paints.  He uses short stabbing,
             strokes. 

             He picks up a sculptor's knife.  It's an expensive tool, made
             of beveled, thick steel.  Eight inches long, with a pointed,
             heavily serrated blade at one end and smooth rounded spatula
             at the other end.

             Henry uses the pointed blade to draw lines and write.  He
             writes alone, and waiting, and death in the wet paint.

             He is very good.  With the right management, his work would
             bring thousands.

             LATER - DUSK

             SOUND OF A BALL BEING BOUNCED AGAINST A WALL, TRAFFIC

             It's getting dark.  Henry stops painting, and assesses the
             work.  He knows it's good, but he doesn't show pride or
             satisfaction, only cold approval.

             He puts the brush into an empty jar.  He takes the water
             bottle with the tape on the label and pours some of the clear
             liquid into the jar.  The paint begins to bleed from the
             brush - sending curls of color into the liquid.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - THE DOOR - DUSK

             Henry listens.  It's quiet.  He opens the door.

             INT. HALLWAY - OUTSIDE DOOR FOUR-TWELVE - CONTINUOUS

             A foot is gingerly extended out of the door.  The heel is set
             down lightly.  The foot is rolled down heel to toe until it
             rests fully on the floor.  Not a sound is made.

             Henry emerges, sidelong, out the door, alert and quiet.
             There's no one in the hall.  It's safe.

             Henry slinks out, and closes the door quietly, dashes down
             the stairs with incredible dexterity.  Not a sound is made.

             EXT. HENRY'S APARTMENT BUILDING, STREET - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry rushes out, quicksteps up the sidewalk, turns the
             corner, and disappears.

             MOMENTS LATER - OUTSIDE HENRY'S APARTMENT BUILDING

             Vicky Sedillo approaches, looking weary.

             Hidden around the corner, Henry watches Vicky.

             INT. APARTMENT BUILDING LOBBY - DUSK - CONTINUOUS

             Vicky enters, goes to the bank of mailboxes.  Henry comes in
             and goes to the elevator, his eyes on Vicky.

             She wears surgical scrubs, a folded stethoscope in the
             pocket.  She moves with a weary grace to the mailboxes.

             Henry pushes the elevator button.  Vicky joins him.

                                 VICKY
                       Hi.

                                 HENRY
                       Hi.

             She flips through her mail, he checks her out.  She opens the
             gate, they get in.  Henry presses the button.

                                 HENRY
                       Four, right?

                                 VICKY
                       Yes.

                                 HENRY
                       I live next door.  Four-twelve?

                                 VICKY
                       Oh...sorry.

                                 HENRY
                       That's okay.

             It's her eyes that captivate him.  Intelligent but
             frightened.  Determined and cowardly.  There's pain here and
             Henry can relate to that.

                                 HENRY
                       It's easy to miss me.  You know
                       that guy, though.

             She cringes at this.

                                 HENRY
                       He lives next door.  To me.

                                 VICKY
                       I don't know...

                                 HENRY
                       You don't?  Oh.  Thought you did.
                       You're a doctor, right?

                                 VICKY
                       Nurse.

                                 HENRY
                       Oh, cool.

             She likes him so she volunteers information.

                                 VICKY
                       Cancer ward.  Terminal patients.

             Well.  That's more than Henry bargained for.  That's for
             real.  That's a drag.

                                 HENRY
                            (sincere, sad)
                       Oh.

             The elevator stops with a chunk, she opens the gate.

                                 VICKY
                       Nice to meet you.

             She meant that.  She can deal with people dying on her all
             day and still say something that nice to a shithead like me?

                                 HENRY
                       You too.

             She leaves.  He goes to his door.  She smiles back at Henry
             and goes in door 413.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT, CLOSET - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry is inside the closet.  The door is open, there is no
             light inside.  It's cramped, empty, dusty, and very hot.

             At the back of the closet, there is an unfinished wall, with
             support beams every twelve inches, exposed - like ribs.

             SOUND OF A WOMAN CRYING ON THE OTHER SIDE OF WALL

             It can be heard clearly - the wall is very thin.

             Henry leans close and listens.  Sweat glistens in his oily
             hair.  It beads and runs down his face.  

             Suddenly, Henry is ashamed - guilty.  He rubs his mouth,
             looks at his feet.   How can he intrude like this?

             His eyes widen.  He freezes, then leaves suddenly, closing
             the door quietly.

             He is in a small empty room.  He leaves this room quickly,
             urgently, on tiptoes and quietly closes the door behind him.

             He is in the living room.  He just gets the door closed when
             he sneezes into the bend of his arm to muffle the sound.  He
             wipes his face on his sleeve.

             EXT. STREET - NIGHT

             MARNA AMIBA approaches Henry's building.

             Marna looks old for twenty-five.  Pallid skin, poor posture,
             the eyes of someone whose best years are behind them.  She
             does her best to carry two heavy, paper grocery bags, looking
             like she could collapse any second.

             Marna starts out across the street and jumps back as a car
             whizzes past.

             Henry is nearby, watching.  He smiles broadly.  What a ninny!

             Marna makes it to the building and fumbles with the door.
             Henry is close now, but waits to watch Marna struggle with
             the door.

             INT. APARTMENT BUILDING LOBBY - CONTINUOUS

             Marna enters, heads straight for the elevator.  Henry enters.
             Marna pushes the button, waits.  The elevator comes CLANKING
             AND WINING its way down.  Henry comes up.

                                 MARNA
                       Hi.

                                 HENRY
                       Hi.

             They wait, Henry checking out her floral pattern skirt - its
             colors faded.  The elevator arrives.

                                 HENRY
                       Allow me.

             He opens the gate and with a sweeping gesture allows Marna to
             enter first.  She accepts with wide-eyed and charmed.

             Henry follows, closes the gate and presses a button.

                                 HENRY
                       Four, right?

                                 MARNA
                       Right.

                                 HENRY
                       We live next door to each other. 

                                 MARNA
                       Oh, yeah?

                                 HENRY
                       You know the nurse, right?  In four
                       thirteen?

                                 MARNA
                       No.  I don't think we ever met.

             Perfect.  Just what Henry wanted.

                                 HENRY
                       Oh.  Maybe it's your husband.

             Marna does a slow search of her memory.

                                 MARNA
                       No...  He doesn't know any nurses.

                                 HENRY
                       Sure he does.  Are you sure?

             They arrive, he doesn't open the gate.  She stands there,
             arms full of groceries.

                                 MARNA
                       I think so.

             The gravity of what Henry is saying is lost on her.  They may
             as well be discussing the weather.

                                 MARNA
                       Well.  Nice to have met you.

                                 HENRY
                       Yeah, you too.

             After a beat, Henry opens the gate.  They leave the elevator.
             Marna goes to door 411, Henry goes to his door, 412.

             Henry glances at Vicky while pretending to unlock his door.

             She juggles the two grocery bags, trying to reach her purse.
             She pins one of the bags against the wall, freeing one arm -
             but she still can't reach her keys.

             Nearing a state of panic, she kicks the door.

                                 MARNA
                       Open the door!

             She is oblivious to Henry, who laughs to himself.

                                 MARNA
                            (whiney, pathetic)
                       Open the God damn door!

                                 JOE
                            (muffled)
                       Who is it?

                                 MARNA
                            (flustered, embarrassed)
                       Who the hell do you think it is? 

             No answer.  Marna throws a quick embarrassed glance at Henry.

                                 MARNA
                            (harsh, quiet)
                       It's me!  Open this fucking door!

             Henry can't believe his luck.  What a show!  He turns the
             door knob.  It wasn't locked.

             SOUND OF HEAVY FOOTFALLS, A GROAN

             The door opens.  

                                 MARNA
                       Thank you!  Jeez!

                                 JOE
                       Where's your keys?

             She stares at him from between the heavy grocery bags.

             She flashes the most dignified smile she can manage at Henry
             and goes in.

             Henry breezes into his loft like someone coming home from a
             delightful Broadway musical.  He closes the door, leans
             against the wall and roars silent laughter. 

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - MOMENTS LATER - NIGHT

             SOUND OF TRAFFIC, BABY CRYING, PEOPLE HAVING SEX

             Henry leans against the wall in the dark next to the black
             banana peels and empty beer bottles.  He lights a candle.

             He listens to the headphones, the suction cup mic stuck to
             the wall next to his head.

             He hears:  TV show opening theme Star Trek Voyager, the
             channels flip --

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS - NIGHT

             INTERCUT

             Joe lies on the couch watching TV. 

             Marna is in the kitchen writing in her journal.  She writes
             beautifully with a fountain pen and frowns. 

                                 JOE
                       How long till dinner?

                                 MARNA
                       Not long.

                                 JOE
                       What is it?

             Marna ignores him.  Joe raises his head to look at her but
             doesn't say anything.

             Henry laughs - silently.  He strikes a lighter, illuminating
             the oily layer of sweat on his face. 

             He lights a cigarette butt and picks his nose.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

             They eat while watching TV.

             Peas and linguine swim in a gooey cream sauce.   

             Joe is almost finished.  He leans over his plate, chewing
             without tasting, watching TV.  A drop of sweat rolls down his
             face, and into his pasta.

             Marna sits too straight, as if watched in a fine restaurant.

                                 MARNA
                       Don't you want any salad?

             A bowl of chopped lettuce, carrots, and something purple on
             the table next to a bottle of Thousand Islands.

             They're watching a show like Who Wants To Be A Millionaire.
             Marna divides her attention between the show and a book.

                                 MARNA
                            (looking at book)
                       Oh!

                                 JOE
                       What?

                                 MARNA
                       Oh, no!

                                 JOE
                            (re: book)
                       That again?

                                 MARNA
                       This stuff is real!  It's
                       legitimate.

                                 JOE
                       It's bullshit.

                                 MARNA
                       Pluto is square my Mars!

             Joe puts no stock in astrology.  He watches TV.

                                 MARNA
                       That's very bad!  Oh, no!  That is
                       bad! 

             She gets a second book and flips through it frantically,
             tracking down a specific section.

                                 MARNA
                            (from second book)
                       'Pluto square Mars'.  'With Pluto
                       in this position it's a bad time to
                       start financial ventures'.

             She waves this off as irrelevant.  Then:

                                 MARNA
                       'Possible marital problems...

             She waves this off as ridiculous.

                                 MARNA
                       They're not always right.

             Then, she freezes.  She traces the words with her finger.

                                 MARNA
                       'Possible physical danger'.  Booby?

                                 JOE
                       Hmm?

                                 MARNA
                       Did you hear?
                            (from book)
                       'You may suffer an injury.
                       Depending on other factors, you may
                       suffer an illness, or your father
                       or a man close to you may become
                       ill.  In some cases, you may be
                       threatened'.

             She stares into space letting this sink in.

                                 MARNA
                       Huh?!

                                 JOE
                       Give it a rest, honey.
                       Everything's okay.
                            (re: TV)
                       It's the final round.

             Marna looks at the TV.  Within a few seconds she forgets the
             astrological warnings and is absorbed by the show.

                                 MARNA
                            (re: show)
                       I'd be so nervous.

             Joe smirks.

                                 MARNA
                       What?

             Joe sighs.  Does he really have to explain?

                                 JOE
                       You couldn't be on this show.

             She doesn't get the implication.

                                 MARNA
                       Sure, I could!  They have
                       auditions.  Last year they had
                       auditions at the convention center.
                       I could...

             Joe doesn't look forward to this.  He doesn't want to hurt
             her feelings.  But, then again he doesn't mind.

                                 JOE
                       Honey.  You couldn't pass the
                       audition.

             She still doesn't get it.

                                 MARNA
                            (oh, you silly!)
                       Oh!  I could, too!  I know this
                       stuff.

             The contestant misses the question, and loses.  Marna steals
             hopeful glances at her man.

                                 JOE
                       Shithead.

             Joe flips the channels.

                                 MARNA
                       The show wasn't over!

                                 JOE
                       Yes, it was. 

             She relents.  How can she be mad with him?

                                 MARNA
                       What would you do if you won?

             He ignores her.

                                 MARNA
                       We could get married.  Have kids.

                                 JOE
                       How many times do we have to talk
                       about this?

                                 MARNA
                       I don't know.  Not many.

             Joe takes a last bite and stands.

                                 MARNA
                       Oh!  Going out, again?

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  Get a beer.

                                 MARNA
                       When will you be back.

                                 JOE
                       Later.

             He heads straight to the door.

                                 MARNA
                       Bye!

             He opens the door.

                                 MARNA
                       I love you!  Miss you already!

                                 JOE
                       Uh-huh.

             He closes the door.

             Marna blows him a few kisses before turning back to the TV.
             Within seconds, she is absorbed - as if Joe was never there.

             She eats.

             INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS - NIGHT

             Joe presses the elevator button, waits.  He glances both ways
             up and down the hall.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Dark.  He tokes his smoke, the glow highlighting his oily
             sweat.  He takes the headphones off.

             Henry listens at the door.  He hears:  the elevator gate
             open, then close.  The elevator CLANGS its way down.

             Henry opens his door an inch, peers into the hall - empty.
             He slips out, quietly, quickly closing his door.

             HALLWAY

             Henry watches the elevator floor indicator count down to 1.

             ELEVATOR

             Joe checks his reflection, combs his hair with his fingers.

             HALLWAY

             Henry slinks down the hall, glancing at Vicky's door - 413.
             There is a stairwell in front of her door.

             Henry waits, quiet, remaining absolutely still.  After some
             moments footfalls echo up the stairwell.  Henry smiles.

             The sound grows, becoming the shick-shuck of a large man
             climbing stairs in heavy boots.

             Henry peers over the railing and sees a man's hand moving up
             the rail one floor down.

             MOMENTS LATER

             Henry has moved to the elevator, he waits and listens, eying
             the stairs at the end of the hall.  The footfalls stop.
             Henry presses the down button and waits, eying the stairs.

             THE ELEVATOR RATTLES ITS WAY UP

             Joe peeks around the corner, and is shocked to see Henry
             looking right at him.  There's nothing else to do so Joe
             emerges, and flounders.

             Henry nods as if the meeting was happenstance.  Joe nods
             back.  Henry faces the elevator with perfect indifference.

             Joe inches clumsily toward Vicky's door, then gives up, and
             marches to his door, passing behind Henry.

                                 HENRY
                       How you doing?

                                 JOE
                       Hey.  Getting some exercise.

                                 HENRY
                       Oh, yeah?

             Joe unlocks his door.

                                 HENRY
                       I'm too lazy.

             Joe goes in the apartment.

                                 MARNA (INSIDE)
                       Hi, honey!  Forget something?

                                 JOE
                            (closing door)
                       Yeah...  I...forgot--

             Joe's door closes.

             The elevator arrives.  Henry gets in, presses a button, and
             lets go a riot of silent laughter.

             INT. MIKE'S COLLEGE DORM ROOM - DAY

             It's very small - about ten feet wide and fifteen feet long.
             A cell, really.  Clean and tidy with an expensive mini
             stereo, new text books stacked neatly on an expensive desk.
             There are no windows.  The cinder block walls are painted
             light green.

             MIKE KENNER checks his e-mail on an expensive laptop.  An
             instant message pops-up.

             INSERT MESSAGE:  Hey baby!  Ready for professor Stolzman's
             test?

             Mike grins and answers:  Hell no!  You?

             Henry sits on the bed.  He strums a beautiful acoustic guitar
             and admires the surf board on the wall. 

             Mike is young and clean cut, wearing new, casual clothes.  He
             keeps in good shape.  Any girl would want Mike.  He types
             quick and clean - a message to one of his many friends. 

             Henry plays a cool riff - classic rock solo - flawless.

                                 HENRY
                       What do I have to be afraid of?

                                 MIKE
                       Success.

             Henry plays some blues - beautifully.

                                 HENRY
                            (sings, plays guitar)
                       Don't got no life,
                       Don't got no friends.
                       Ain't got no wife,
                       Ain't got no job.
                       I is the weirdest,
                       The weirdest person.
                       I is the weirdest,
                       You ever will meet.

             Mike closes the computer and grabs three twenties sitting on
             the desk.  Henry envies how easily Mike handles the money.

                                 HENRY
                       I'm broke, dude.

                                 MIKE
                       Let's go.

             They leave.

                                 HENRY
                       I'll pay you back.

                                 MIKE
                       Don't worry about it.

             INT. ROSE AND THISTLE BAR - NIGHT

             A cozy university hang-out.

             Mike, Clay, and Henry at a table with a pitcher - Mike and
             Clay sit next to each other on a banquette.  Henry pours.

                                 HENRY
                       Mike wants to go to California.

                                 CLAY
                       Really!?

                                 MIKE
                       Just kidding.  I was just kidding.

                                 HENRY
                            (challenging)
                       Were not.  You just don't want to
                       piss off your dad.

             Mike surrenders with a shrug.

                                 MIKE
                       He's paying for school.  What am I
                       supposed to do?

                                 CLAY
                       That's cool.

             Henry gloats at embarrassing Mike.  Clay and Mike twinkle at
             each other.

                                 MIKE
                       I want to surf.  Not study biology.

             To Henry's surprise, Clay's eyes light up.

                                 CLAY
                       I want to go!  Open a tea shop.  On
                       the beach.  Not LA.

             Henry laughs.

                                 HENRY
                       You want to open a tea shop?

                                 CLAY
                       Yeah.  With pots and cozies and
                       cool music.  And, no smoking.

             Henry smirks.  Mike loves the idea.

                                 CLAY
                       What?  You think I can't.

                                 HENRY
                       No, I don't think you can't.  I
                       know you won't.

                                 CLAY
                       Like you've got the balls to make
                       something out of yourself.

                                 MIKE
                       Really, dude.

                                 HENRY
                       Fuck.  Go to California and surf if
                       you're so brave. 

                                 MIKE
                       When you get the balls to get a
                       show, I'll quit school.

                                 CLAY
                       Yeah.

             Everyone has been backed into a corner.  They drink.

             INT. VICKY'S LOFT, LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

             Tastefully decorated, plump leather couch, framed prints of
             modern paintings, antique lamps, Persian carpet under a teak
             coffee table.

             Joe and Vicky on the couch watching Silence Of The Lambs on
             DVD.

                                 JOE
                       When does something happen?

             Vicky is used to questions this dumb.  She ignores it.

                                 VICKY
                            (tired)
                       Something is happening.  A lot's
                       happened.

                                 JOE
                       Yeah...

             He bides his time.  He checks her bod - that's happening.

                                 JOE
                            (with a nudge)
                       Come on.

             She likes the notion but wants to watch the movie.

                                 VICKY
                       It's almost over.

             In the movie, Clarice is about to enter the killer's house.

                                 JOE
                       What's so dangerous about this?

                                 VICKY
                            (absorbed)
                       That's the killer's house.

                                 JOE
                       He's a fag!  He wears dresses.

                                 VICKY
                            (patient)
                       It empowers him.  This is about
                       people overcoming their fears.

                                 JOE
                       Fag.

                                 VICKY
                       What?  That means he couldn't be
                       dangerous?

                                 JOE
                       Well.  Not to her!

             Joe is impressed by his wit.

                                 JOE
                       I'd kick his ass.

             They watch agent Starling work.  The killer searches a
             collection of business cards, obviously stalling.

                                 JOE
                       He's stalling!  She should pull her
                       gun.

                                 VICKY
                       She will.

                                 JOE
                       Oh, great!  Ruin it.

                                 VICKY
                       I thought you didn't care.

                                 JOE
                       I care.

             Agent Starling sees a moth and realizes this man is the
             killer.  She pops the safety strap on her gun's holster.

             Joe stares at the picture but is thinking.  After a few
             moments, he sinks into a dark, brooding anger.

             Agent Starling draws and yells, 'Freeze'!  The killer runs.

             Without warning, Joe flips his wrist and smacks the back of
             Vicky's head.  It's too hard to be a love tap and not hard
             enough to be violent. 

                                 VICKY
                       Come on!  It's almost over. 

             He smacks her again.  She strokes his thigh.

                                 VICKY
                       This is the best part!  I didn't
                       mean any--

             He smacks her again, but lighter.

                                 VICKY
                            (tired)
                       Don't start.

             Agent Starling goes down the stairs into the basement.

                                 JOE
                       You think I can't understand your
                       weird ass movies?  Think I can't
                       appreciate them?

             A mix of emotions cross Vicky's face.  Boredom, fear, anger.
             But, there is also excitement.  This is his way of getting
             her in the mood, and it's working.

                                 VICKY
                       I know you can under--

                                 JOE
                       Oh, yeah?

             He grips her arm, digs his fingers in.  She gasps in pain and
             pleasure.

                                 VICKY
                       I know you--

                                 JOE
                       --you think I can't understand?

                                 VICKY
                       I know you can.

             He glares - pure anger.  In her eyes, pure fear, but she is
             smiling.  They've done this before.

                                 JOE
                       You think I don't get your fucking
                       movies!

                                 VICKY
                            (grins)
                       I know--

                                 JOE
                            (faking anger)
                       --You think I can't?

             He smiles - broad and knowing.

                                 JOE
                            (re: fag in movie)
                       I'm not like that.  I like women.

                                 VICKY
                       Yeah!

             They kiss.  They both will get what they want.

             INT. WESTWOOD CANCER CENTER - DAY

             Louise Steinbeck lies in bed staring at the ceiling - through
             the ceiling.  She looks at the door.  Stares.  Vicky enters.

                                 VICKY
                       Hello!  How are we doing?

             Louise watches Vicky check the heart monitor, IV, tuck in the
             bed.  Louise's eyes are steady and filled with portent.

                                 LOUISE
                       Make things right.

                                 VICKY
                            (cheerful)
                       Hmm?

                                 LOUISE
                       Before it's too late.

             Vicky has heard this kind of thing before.  She can only
             comfort the old lady.

                                 VICKY
                       You get some rest.

             Vicky adjusts the drip rate on one of the IV's. 

                                 VICKY
                       There.

             Louise grasps her hand.

                                 LOUISE
                       I'm leaving tomorrow.

                                 VICKY
                       Oh, honey.  You're not going home
                       for--

                                 LOUISE
                       --I'm leaving!  You stop what
                       you're doing!  You're young!  You
                       have a life ahead of you!

             Vicky is frozen.  Louise's eyes burn with intent.

                                 VICKY
                            (placates)
                       All right.  I will.

             Louise waits for it to sink in, then lets go of Vicky's hand
             and stares at the ceiling - through the ceiling.

             INT. MRS. JONES' LOFT - NIGHT

             Mrs. Jones is on the hard wood floor.  She is on all fours
             with her butt in the air and her ear pressed to the floor.
             She is listening to the floor.  She hears nothing.

             She slides along the floor, forward a few feet, skittering
             along, never taking her ear off the floor.  She stops and
             listens.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - NIGHT

             It's dark and quiet.  Henry leans against the wall, asleep.
             Henry's MOTHER enters frame.  She's immature, dull, large.

                                 MOTHER
                       Baby?  Darling?  Are you asleep?

             Henry wakes and looks at his mother.

                                 HENRY
                       Mom?

                                 MOTHER
                       You're in trouble, darling!

                                 HENRY
                       Mom!  Leave me alone!

                                 MOTHER
                       You never listen!

             She leaves.

             Henry wakes and shakes off the stupid dream.  He stands.

                                 HENRY
                       Jesus!!

             He strips off his sweaty tee-shirt, then his pants.  Now, in
             only underpants, Henry fans himself.  He puffs his underpants
             with air.

             I/E. HENRY'S LOFT - NIGHT - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry sticks his head out the window for air.  HIS POV: There
             are bars and stores on the street.  They all have neon signs.
             Red, blue, green - flashing.

             REVERSE POV: In the window next to Henry's is a large neon
             sign.  Red, blue, green.  Between this window and Henry's is
             a pipe.  Steam shoots from the pipe making a WHOOSH SOUND and
             creating a large cloud that hangs outside Henry's window.

             HENRY'S POV: The cloud of steam is lit by the neon sign in
             the next window.  This fills Henry's apartment with an eerie,
             colorful light.  This, along with the flashing neon light
             from the street, creates an otherworldly effect in the room.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - NIGHT

             SOUND OF DISTANT APPROACHING POLICE SIREN, A BABY CRYING

             Henry leans against the wall.  He has lit a candle.  The
             headphones are on, the suction cup mic stuck to the wall.   

             The mic falls off, next to the empty beer bottles and dried
             banana peels.

             Without looking, Henry grabs the mic, licks it, and sticks it
             back on the wall.  He takes a hit off his cigarette, blows
             blue smoke.  He is labelling a new cassette --

             AUGUST 18TH, HOTTEST SUMMER IN HISTORY

             -- pops it in, and presses a button marked RECORD.

             On the tape recorder there is a digital power meter.

             The power meter starts dancing.  At first one light, then, as
             the SIREN GROWS LOUDER, two, then three lights flicker.

             The cop car passes - the meter pegs full power.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT - INTERCUT

             SOUND OF RECEDING COP SIREN

             Dark.  Marna spoons Joe.  His eyes are closed.  Something is
             on her mind.

                                 MARNA
                       Honey?

             He opens his eyes, dreading the coming question.

                                 MARNA
                       Sweetheart?

                                 JOE
                       It's too hot...

             She moves to her side.

                                 MARNA
                       Okay.

             A long pause.

                                 MARNA
                       Are you awake?

                                 JOE
                       What?

                                 MARNA
                       Let's get married.

                                 JOE
                       What?

                                 MARNA
                       We could go to the beach.  You
                       know?  California?  Not LA, but the
                       beach someplace.

                                 JOE
                       Are you crazy?

                                 MARNA
                       No.

                                 JOE
                       What have I told you?

             There's no answer so Joe considers the matter closed.  He
             lies there sweating.  Then, she starts.  The fucking crying.

             He listens as long as he can take it, then:

                                 JOE
                       Okay! 

             The crying stops.

                                 JOE
                       I'll think about it.  Okay?

             She strips off her nightgown and tosses it.

                                 MARNA
                       Oh!  My big, strong man!  I'm going
                       to make you so happy!  My faucet
                       has a leak! 

                                 JOE
                            (big grin)
                       Really?

             She reaches under the covers.

                                 MARNA
                       Yep.  Where's your wrench?  I know
                       it's in the tool box.  You never go
                       anywhere without it.  There it is!

             He rolls onto his back.  His erection is a tent pole under
             the sheet.

                                 MARNA
                       I need my faucet fixed.  Are you
                       ready to fix my--

                                 JOE
                       --Yeah, yeah, baby!  Just get on!

             She straddles him.

                                 MARNA
                       There's the wrench...here's the
                       faucet...

             She lowers herself.  He arches with pleasure.

                                 MARNA
                       Ooh!  My faucet needed it bad!

                                 JOE
                            (overlap)
                       Yeah.  Okay, okay.  I'm fixing the
                       faucet, okay?  Just...

             She rides him.  He enjoys it, but doesn't move.

                                 MARNA
                       Boo-boo?

                                 JOE
                       Yeah, baby?

                                 MARNA
                       Do you know the nurse down the
                       hall?

             He chokes, sits up, eyes wide.  She falls off.

                                 MARNA
                       Oh!  That was--

             Joe turns the light on.  She covers up.

                                 MARNA
                       Boo-boo!  You know I don't like the
                       lights on.

                                 JOE
                       What did you say?

                                 MARNA
                       What?

                                 JOE
                       About a nurse?

                                 MARNA
                       I don't know.  Relax!

                                 JOE
                       What kind of thing is that to say?

                                 MARNA
                       Well, the guy next door--

                                 JOE
                       What nurse?  What guy?

                                 MARNA
                       The one down the hall.  The guy
                       next door.

                                 JOE
                       How would I know her?

                                 MARNA
                       He said you did.

             Joe's mood turns black.

                                 MARNA
                       Do you know him?  He lives right--

                                 JOE
                       --I know where he lives!  I don't
                       know him and I don't know the
                       nurse.  Or, whoever... 

                                 MARNA
                       Okay.  He just said.

                                 JOE
                       Why would he say...  Where'd you
                       see him?  I don't know him.
                       He doesn't know me.  Why are you
                       even talking to him?

                                 MARNA
                       You don't?  He seemed to--

                                 JOE
                       --I don't care!

             Joe turns the light off.

                                 JOE
                       I don't know him.  He was just
                       talking.

                                 MARNA
                       I know he was talking.  He said--

                                 JOE
                       --I don't want to hear it!

                                 MARNA
                       Okay.

                                 JOE
                       I don't know him and I don't know
                       any fucking nurse!

                                 MARNA
                       Sorry.  We were just chatting.  In
                       the elevator.  Elevator chat.  You
                       met him, right?

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  Little punk-ass fag...

                                 MARNA
                       Why do you say that?

                                 JOE
                       I'm tired.

                                 MARNA
                       Okay.

             She rolls over, snuggles.  He pushes her away.

                                 MARNA
                       Boo-boo?

             No response.

                                 MARNA
                       I'm sorry!

                                 JOE
                       Go to sleep.

                                 MARNA
                       You want to...

                                 JOE
                       No.  Not anymore.

                                 MARNA
                       Okay.
                            (pause)
                       Night.
                            (beat)
                       I love you.

             No response.

                                 MARNA
                       I just want to be a good wife.

             No response.

             INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

             Joe slams Henry against the wall.  Henry is terrified.

                                 JOE
                       Are you fucking kidding!?

             Joe chokes Henry.  Sweat pours down both men's faces.

             The elevator clangs its way down.  With bulging eyes, Henry
             looks at the floor indicator - 3

                                 HENRY
                       I--

                                 JOE
                       --Shut the fuck up!  I ought to
                       kick your fucking ass.  You punk
                       ass faggot--

                                 HENRY
                       --I'll tell your wife!

             Joe stops, relaxes his grip.  He stares at Henry
             disbelieving, his jaw slack. 

             Joe straightens Henry's clothes and backs off.  Henry tries
             to compose himself, glances at the indicator - 2  

                                 JOE
                       You think we're married?

             Joe's manner becomes that of an old friend. 

                                 JOE
                       You think I'd marry that dumb
                       bitch?

             Joe becomes 'man to man', like over a beer.

             The elevator floor indicator shows - 1

                                 JOE
                       She's got some money.  So, I hang
                       out with her.

             You get it?  The elevator stops.

                                 JOE
                       Ever talk to her again and I'll
                       kill you.

             Joe flings the gate open and strides out. 

             Henry takes the threat seriously.  He stands there sweating.

             INT. THE DEN - DAY

             Clay and Mike stare, slack-jawed, at Henry.

                                 HENRY
                       He's crazy!

                                 MIKE
                       Dude!

                                 CLAY
                       How could you do that?

                                 HENRY
                       It was a joke.  I wasn't going to
                       say anything!  What do I care?

                                 CLAY
                       It's not going to be a joke when
                       this guy beats the shit out of you.

                                 HENRY
                       I can handle him.

                                 MIKE
                       He's twice your size.

                                 HENRY
                       It's technique that counts.  Not
                       size.

                                 CLAY
                       Maybe you should go to the cops.

             Henry answers with a sneer - yeah, right.

                                 MIKE
                       He won't do anything.

             Clay agrees.  Henry wants to believe them, but can't.

             EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - DAY

             A beat up van parked with RELIABLE PLUMBING painted on the
             side.

             INT. SUBURBAN KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS

             Joe's legs stick out from under the sink.  A HOUSEWIFE
             watches him work.  She is admiring Joe's lower body.  She
             wears a man's shirt and tight jeans.

                                 JOE
                       All you needed was a gasket.

                                 HOUSEWIFE
                            (stares at Joe's crotch)
                       Oh. 

                                 JOE
                       Sorry about the charge.  I have to
                       charge you for the visit.

                                 HOUSEWIFE
                       That's alright.  I don't mind.  My
                       husband's no good.  At this kind of
                       thing.  I don't mind paying.  It's
                       his money.

                                 JOE
                       It'll just be a few minutes.

             She kneels next to Joe and looks under the sink.

                                 JOE
                       Uh...it's right here.

             He taps the pipe.

                                 JOE
                       Gasket goes right in there.

                                 HOUSEWIFE
                       Oh.  Mind if I watch?

                                 JOE
                       No.

             She places her hand on the far side of Joe's body for
             support.  She is leaning over his crotch.

             Joe is nervous, but continues.  He glances at her.  She
             pretends to watch with rapt attention.  He can see her
             breasts - no wonder - the shirt is half unbuttoned.

             She glances at his crotch, the erection is obvious.  Joe's
             breaths come slow and deep.

                                 JOE
                       It'll just be a minute.

             He gasps.  She is unzipping his pants.  Joe is shocked, but
             he allows it.  She pulls it out and sucks him. 

                                 JOE
                       Oh!  Yes!  Oh, God!

             After a few moments he comes, convulsing and raising his head
             several inches - straight into the pipe - BONK! 

             Joe has knocked himself unconscious.

                                 HOUSEWIFE
                       Oh!  Are you okay?!

             There is no response.  She giggles, then stifles herself,
             trying to remain serious.  Joe lies there, eyes closed.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - DAY

             Henry turns the fan off and takes it out of the window.  He
             closes the window.

             CLOSET

             At Vicky's wall.  Henry listens, his face glistening with
             sweat, his shirt stuck to his body.

             INT. VICKY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Vicky pulls on a dress while Joe watches.

             He is tense and sweaty, she is breezy and relaxed.

                                 VICKY
                       Who cares?

                                 JOE
                       What!?

             She is amused by his dramatics.  She goes to a vanity, sits
             and applies light makeup, leans close to the mirror.

                                 JOE
                       He knows!

                                 VICKY
                       So?  So what?  Who cares?

                                 JOE
                       What do you mean?

                                 VICKY
                       Look.  I'm not going to tell your
                       wife, if that's what you're afraid--

                                 JOE
                            (overlap)
                       No!  Hell, no!  That's not what I
                       mean.

                                 VICKY
                       Then, what?

                                 JOE
                       The little prick knows!  He might
                       tell her.

                                 VICKY
                       I'm happy.  Don't worry.

                                 JOE
                       I know!  That's not what I'm
                       talking about!

                                 VICKY
                       Well, what the fuck--

                                 JOE
                       --He might tell my wife!

                                 VICKY
                       Baby...  That's not my problem.

             Joe's worry is replaced by indignant confusion.

                                 JOE
                       If she finds out, it's over!

                                 VICKY
                            (so what)
                       Yeah...

                                 JOE
                       That doesn't bother you?

             She snickers, stupefied by the question.

                                 JOE
                       What?

             She stifles the giggles as best she can.

                                 JOE
                       What?

                                 VICKY
                            (for God's sake!)
                       Nothing!

                                 JOE
                       What the fuck are you laughing at?

                                 VICKY
                            (I have to explain?)
                       It's sex.  Okay?  We fuck.  That's
                       all.  Works out for both of us.

             Joe tries to wrap his mind around this.

                                 VICKY
                       It's convenient.  Just down the
                       hall.

                                 JOE
                       You don't love me?

             She looks at him in the mirror.  How can he ask?

                                 JOE
                       I love you.

             Joe stares at Vicky's back, trying to accept their newly
             defined relationship.  He tries a diversion.

                                 JOE
                       I got a plan!  We can run off
                       together.

             The stupidity!  He's serious? 

                                 VICKY
                       Baby, I have a job.

                                 JOE
                       So do I!  We can start over.

                                 VICKY
                       I'm not going anywhere with you.

                                 JOE
                       Come on!

                                 VICKY
                       Where are you going?

                                 JOE
                       I was thinking California.  Not LA.
                       The beach, someplace.  I could
                       start my own plumbing business.
                       You could be a nurse there.

                                 VICKY
                       And, when you meet someone else...

                                 JOE
                            (clueless)
                       What?

             Joe finally gets it.

                                 JOE
                       I wouldn't leave you!

             Henry laughs silently.

                                 JOE
                       I wouldn't do that!  Not to you!

                                 VICKY
                       Just your wife?

             Joe shrugs.

                                 VICKY
                       You're good in bed...but you're as
                       dumb as a mule.  This is just about
                       a good fuck.  What you do with you
                       life is your business.

             Vicky goes back to brushing her hair as if she were alone.
             Joe is slack jawed.

             Henry roars silent laughter. 

             Joe's face turns to stone as he computes what she is telling
             him.  His eyes go flat, his breathing levels. 

                                 JOE
                       Oh, really?

                                 VICKY
                            (to herself)
                       Um-hmm.

             He stands and comes up behind her.  He massages her
             shoulders.  She enjoys it.

                                 JOE
                       I didn't know it was like that.

             Well, it is.

             He watches her in the mirror.  She ignores him.

                                 JOE
                       Well.  I got to go, baby.

             He leans down.  She feels sorry for him.  She puts the brush
             down, and takes his face in her hands to ease his pain.

                                 VICKY
                       Alright.  You okay?

             She searches his eyes - he nods.

             They kiss, then he looks her in the eye - watching for her
             reaction as he punches her in the stomach.

             Her eyes go wide, she lets out a forced grunt and collapses
             forward on the vanity, knocking bottles over.

             Joe grins.

             Henry listens, horrified. 

             Joe towers over her savoring his dominance. 

             He lifts her head.  Her mouth is open, her eyes wide and
             unfocused.  She gasps a breath.

                                 JOE
                            (flat, even)
                       Fucking bitch.  Talk to me like
                       that. 

             He lets go of her head.  She is in serious pain.  He rolls
             his eyes - guess I got to help her.

                                 JOE
                       Alright!  You got to stand up.
                       Walk it off.  Come on.

             He lifts her to her feet.  She can barely stand, barely
             breathe.

                                 JOE
                       That's it.  You'll be fine.

             He stands her against the dresser. 

             She manages eye contact through the tears.

             He tweaks her chin and smiles.

                                 JOE
                       There you go.  It's getting better
                       already.  Hmm?  Had to teach you a
                       lesson.  You know?  Re-spect me,
                       baby.  Think you can do that?  Hmm?

             She sneers at him, defiant.  She knows it'll bring more
             punishment, but her dignity won't stand for this.

                                 VICKY
                            (through intense pain)
                       You fucking pig.

             Without changing expression, Joe punches her again in the
             gut.  It's brutal.  She is thrown back onto the dresser,
             lifting it several inches off its front legs.

             Her mouth flies open, her tongue sticks out.  Her face stays
             frozen in this expression as she falls to his feet, her arms
             wrapped around her stomach.

             She lies on the floor in a fetal position.  She gasps, then
             holds her breath, wincing and drooling.

                                 JOE
                       Who looks like a pig, now?  Hmm?

             Joe manages to find a spot that's not covered by her arms and
             kicks her - her lower abdomen.

                                 JOE
                       Huh?  Who looks like a pig, now!?

             Joe ambles to the front door.

                                 JOE
                       I'll come back when you think I'm
                       worth it.  Fucking bitch!

             He leaves.

             Henry listens to:  SOUND OF JOE'S FOOTFALLS FADING, THE DOOR
             OPENING/CLOSING.

             Henry can't believe his ears.  Vicky moans.  Henry listens,
             the sweat runs down his face, his shirt stuck to his chest.

             INT. VICKY'S LOFT - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry climbs in the window and scans the place.  Vicky is not
             there.  He can't think, can't decide what to do.

             The phone on the table next to the bed slides off and crashes
             on the floor.

             Henry jumps, then goes to the end of the bed.  He sees Vicky
             lying on the other side of the bed.  She has dragged herself
             to the phone and pulled it off the table.

                                 HENRY
                       Oh, my God! 

             She doesn't seem to know he is there. 

             He tries to think.  What to do!?

             She turns to him.  It's pathetic.  She looks at him,
             recognizes him. 

             He goes to her, kneeling.

                                 HENRY
                       I'll get help.

             She grasps his arm, pulls him to her.  Henry leans close, she
             whispers in his ear.

             Henry can't believe what she has told him.

                                 HENRY
                       I heard.
                            (embarrassed)
                       I could hear.

             She is very serious, her eyes intense.  She whispers, Henry
             leans close to listen.

             He pulls away, shocked.  She pleads.

                                 HENRY
                       I can't do that!

                                 VICKY
                       Yes, you can!

             Henry can't deny her.  He must accept.

             She manages a weak smile, gazing at Henry.

                                 VICKY
                       I'm thirsty.

                                 HENRY
                       Okay, just wait.

             Henry rushes to the kitchen, pours a glass of water and comes
             back.  He enters the bedroom and stops short at the sight of:

             Vicky lying still, her eyes closed.

             Henry puts the glass on the vanity and goes to her. 

             She is motionless.  He leans close to see if she is
             breathing.  He checks her pulse.  She is dead.

             Henry is shocked.  What now?  He gets an answer.

             SOUND OF APPROACHING FOOTFALLS.

             Alarmed and panicked, Henry bolts to the bedroom door and
             closes it almost all the way.  The front door opens! 

             Henry is panicked.  Joe comes up to the bedroom door.

                                 JOE
                            (flat)
                       How do you feel?
                            (listens)
                       Feel better?

             Henry searches frantically for a place to hide. 

                                 JOE
                       Okay.  I'm sorry...  I'm sorry I
                       hit you!  Talk to me, God damn--

             --The 'PHONE OFF HOOK' ALARM SOUNDS - BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

             Henry's eye flare.  Joe realizes something is wrong and opens
             the door.  Henry hides in the closet, getting the door almost
             closed before Joe enters.

             Joe sees Vicky.  With disdain, he goes over and nudges her
             with his foot.  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

                                 JOE
                       Hey!  Get up!

             She doesn't respond.  Henry can see bits of this through the
             crack in the closet door.

             Joe has finally caught on.  Something is wrong.  He kneels
             next to her.  Afraid to touch her, he forces himself.  He
             feels her neck for a pulse.

             There is blank disbelief followed by horrible realization.

                                 JOE
                       Hey!?

             He shakes her.

                                 JOE
                       Wake up!

             He shakes her hard.

                                 JOE
                       I didn't...  No way!  It's not my
                       fault.  You did it!  You started
                       it!

             The 'PHONE OFF HOOK' ALARM continues.  He reaches for the
             receiver to hang it up, but stops.  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

             He's starting to panic.  His breath comes staccato.  The
             sweat drips.  His eyes flash. 

             He stands, trying to decide what to do.

             He backs away, coming to grips with the horror of what he has
             done.  I just wanted to teach her some manners!  No way!  No
             way this is real!  He leaves, closing the front door.

             SOUND OF RECEDING FOOTFALLS.

             Henry comes out of the closet, numb with shock.

             He kneels next to Vicky, bends to her face, and kisses her on
             the cheek tenderly.  What a horrible crime!  He suppresses
             the pain and hatred and gets to work. 

             'PHONE OFF HOOK' ALARM CONTINUES - BEEP, BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

             Henry takes the glass of water to the kitchen.  He is about
             to empty it when he realizes how thirsty he is.  He gulps
             down the water, wipes the glass clean with a washcloth, and
             puts it on the shelf where he got it.

             He wipes down the spigot and sink area, and goes back to the
             bedroom.

             He takes a paint stained cloth from his back pocket and wipes
             down the room.  The vanity, the window frame.

             He is about to leave via the window when - he can't!  He
             can't leave her like this!  He won't!  BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

             Henry kneels next to Vicky.  He takes her hand - holds it
             with the cloth, and picks up the receiver with it.

             Henry depresses the phone plunger with his knuckle, then
             lifts it, getting a dial tone.

             He dials 911 with his knuckle.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Nine, one, one.  State your
                       emergency.

             Henry brings his face as close as he can without touching the
             receiver.  Sweat drips onto the phone.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Hello?  State your emergency,
                       please.

             Henry swallows, then:

                                 HENRY
                            (falsetto)
                       I've been attacked...

             The impersonation is excellent.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       What is your name, ma'am?

                                 HENRY
                       Send help.  Fourteen oh one East
                       Mercer, apartment four thirteen.

             There is a pause and the SOUND OF COMPUTER KEYSTROKES.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Are you injured, ma'am?

             Henry pulls the phone away.  He is aghast at what he is
             doing. 

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Ma'am?  What is the nature of your
                       injury?

             Henry puts Vicky's hand down, with the receiver in it.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Ma'am?  Can you hear me?  Is the
                       attacker still there?

             This snaps Henry out of his daze.  His eyes flash to the
             receiver as if he had just been accused.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Ma'am?  Is the assailant still
                       there with you?

             Henry pockets the cloth and stands.

             SOUND OF FAST APPROACHING FOOTFALLS.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Ma'am!  Are you in danger, now?

             Henry looks at the window.  There isn't time to get out. 

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       I'm going to stay on the line.

             Joe comes in the front door.  He closes the door quick and
             quiet, then leans against it for support.  He takes a deep
             breath, his eyes darting about.

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       Ma'am.  Are you still with me?

             Joe hears the 911 operator, his eyes flash to the bedroom.

             Henry slinks to the closet and sidles inside.

             Joe moves toward the bedroom door, his eyes narrowed.

             Joe creeps through the door as Henry closes the closet door.

             Joe can't believe it!  Vicky was alive?  She called 911?

                                 911 OPERATOR
                       I'm right here ma'am.  Help is on
                       the way.

             Joe gathers his wits -- he makes a move to check Vicky's
             pulse again, but stops--

             SOUND OF A DISTANT SIREN

             Joe panics.  He pulls a cloth from his pants pocket.  He
             moves quickly, efficiently, wiping down the room for prints.

             SOUND OF MULTIPLE APPROACHING SIRENS

             Joe wipes down the bedside table, TV remote, lamp, headboard,
             vanity.

             Joe finishes up with the door knob of the bedroom door, then
             he remembers something.  He goes to the closet door.  He
             wipes down the frame and outer knob.

             SIRENS STOP AS COPS ARRIVE

             SOUND OF HEAVY FOOTFALLS COMING UP THE STAIRS

             Joe opens the closet door.  Henry is standing there, wide
             eyed, staring at Joe.  Joe doesn't notice Henry.  Joe wipes
             down the inside knob and inner frame, then closes the door.

             NEARBY FOOTFALLS

             Joe rushes out of the bedroom.  He wipes down the front door
             knob and opens the door using the cloth.

             INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

             SOUND OF FOOTFALLS COMING UP THE CENTRAL STAIRCASE IN FRONT
             OF JOE AND MARNA'S APARTMENT

             Joe wipes down the outer doorknob, then heads down the end
             staircase in front of Vicky's door just as--

             --two cops arrive at the top of the stairs.  They get their
             bearings and head down the hall toward Vicky's door.

             Henry comes out of the closet.

             Joe slinks around the stairwell landing and disappears as the
             cops arrive at Vicky's door.

             A cop leads the way.  They find the correct door, the cop
             knocks loudly.

                                 COP  I
                       This is the police! 

             Henry steps out the window.

                                 COP  I
                       Open the door, please!

             After a few seconds the cop tries the door.  Unlocked.  He
             opens the door.

                                 COP  I
                       Ma'am!?  You called for help!?

             Henry is outside the window.

             The cop enters the living room.

             SOUND OF APPROACHING SIREN

             Henry climbs over the balcony railing to his balcony and goes
             into his apartment.

             The cop strides to the bedroom, opens the door and is shocked
             at what he sees.

             INT. HALLWAY - LATER - DAY

             Joe casually climbs the central stairway, arriving outside
             his door, where another cop is standing by.  The hall is
             buzzing with cops and Med Techs.

             Joe's shirt is stuck with sweat, his brow glistens.

                                 JOE
                       What's going on?

                                 COP II
                       Do you know the woman that lives at
                       the end of the hall?

                                 JOE
                       No.  Why?

             Joe's acting is good.

                                 COP II
                       She called an ambulance.

                                 JOE
                       Is she okay?

                                 COP II
                       Don't know, sir.

             Joe nods as casually as possible.  He pulls his keys and
             wanders to his door, looking down the hall at Vicky's.

             Cop I comes out, makes his way to his partner.

                                 COP  I
                            (sotto)
                       She's dead.

             This reality hits Joe hard.  He was still hoping for the
             best.

                                 JOE
                       She's dead?

                                 COP  I
                            (to Joe)
                       Yes, sir.

             Joe goes in his apartment, closing the door slow enough to
             hear--

                                 COP II
                       Looks like there was a fight.

                                 COP  I
                       Yeah.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Joe leans against the door, and deals with the situation.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - IN THE CLOSET BY VICKY'S - CONTINUOUS

             Henry listens at the unfinished wall, the sweat glistening on
             his face, his shirt stuck to his chest.

             SOUND OF A BALL BOUNCING, BA-BUM-BUMP, BA-BUM-BUMP

             SOUND OF MURMURING VOICES

                                 COP  I
                       What do you think?

                                 MED TECH I
                       I don't know.

             INT. VICKY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             COP I looks at the items knocked over on the vanity. 

                                 COP  I
                       Don't touch anything.

             The Med Tech nods, knowing.  He's seen this before.  He
             clears out.  The cop secures the apartment, then takes a post
             outside the front door.

             HENRY'S - CONTINUOUS

             Henry's face contorts in bitter pain.  He cries silently.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - EVENING

             Henry peeks through the window at:

             EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

             The coroner carts Vicky's body on a gurney. 

             The guilt stabs him.  Could he have saved her?

             The coroner puts Vicky in a hearse and leaves.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - DAY

             Henry is standing in the middle of the floor staring
             nervously at the front door.

             Henry creeps up to the door, touching his heel to the floor,
             then slowly rolling his foot down, making no noise.

             He leans close to the door, listens.

             INT. HALLWAY - OUTSIDE HENRY'S DOOR - CONTINUOUS

             Peter listens at the door.  He is immaculately dressed in a
             suit and tie.  His skin is smooth and dry.

             Henry leans closer.  Peter's knock shocks him.  He tiptoes
             back to the middle of the room.  Peter knocks again.  Henry
             walks across the floor making heavy footfalls, and opens the
             door.

             Henry's expression practically screams 'I'm innocent'.

             Peter steps into the apartment pushing the door all the way
             open and Henry out of the way.  Henry closes the door
             watching Peter's elegant stroll into the center of the room.

             His back turned, Peter takes something out of his jacket.
             Henry tries for a better vantage point.

             Peter turns around.  He has a cigarette just out of the pack.

                                 PETER
                       Did you know her?

                                 HENRY
                            (shaky)
                       No.

             Peter nods - the kid is lying.  He lights the cigarette and
             puts the pack away, never taking his eyes off Henry, making a
             show of not offering one to Henry. 

                                 PETER
                       Sad thing. 

                                 HENRY
                       Yeah.  What happened?  I saw them
                       take her away.

             Peter waits before answering, reading Henry.

                                 HENRY
                       Heart atta--

                                 PETER
                       --We're looking into it.

                                 HENRY
                       It was a hot day. 

             That's lame - they both know it.  Peter looks at the recorder
             and listening equipment on the floor next to the wall.

                                 PETER
                       Nine times out of ten...the victim
                       knows the attacker.  Husband,
                       neighbor...  Snubbed lover.

                                 HENRY
                       You think she was killed?

             SOUND OF JOE AND MARNA ARGUING HEARD THROUGH THE WALL

             Peter listens to their tone.  Henry pretends not to notice.

                                 PETER
                       No evidence of that.  Have to wait
                       and see.  Autopsy.

             Henry relaxes.  There are two water bottles - one has a piece
             of tape on the label.  Henry picks up the one without tape.

                                 HENRY
                       It's hot.

             Henry's face glistens with sweat.  He has a drink,
             embarrassed because--

             Peter watches Henry drink, swallow.  Peter doesn't sweat.

                                 PETER
                       What does a guy like you do for
                       fun?
                            (nods to: directional mic,
                            binoculars)
                       When you're not bird watching.

             Henry won't be baited.

                                 PETER
                       You didn't go over there, did you?

                                 HENRY
                            (quickly)
                       Course not.

                                 PETER
                       Well, you said you knew her.

             Henry tries to remember what he did say.  His face lights up
             as he remembers - then he puts his poker face back up.

                                 HENRY
                       No.  I said I didn't know her.

                                 PETER
                       Oh.

             Peter paints the air with a fine stream of blue smoke.

                                 PETER
                       You know what'll happen to you if
                       you break parole?

             This gets Henry.  He knows damn well.

                                 PETER
                       You know what jail time is like?  I
                       mean, really.  What those people
                       are like?

             This is matter of fact, cool.

                                 HENRY
                       I haven't done anything, dude.  You
                       said you didn't suspect foul--

                                 PETER
                       --I said!  There was no evidence of
                       foul play.  But, see.  That's the
                       thing.  There's always evidence.
                       Something that was forgotten,
                       overlooked.

             Henry eyes dart.  He quickly controls this. 

                                 PETER
                       People think homicide detectives
                       are geniuses.  People are dumb.
                       People make mistakes.  There's
                       always evidence.

             Henry endures the torture.  Peter watches every twitch.

             Peter quickly strides up to Henry, taking him off guard.  He
             stands too close.

                                 PETER
                       You need a shower, boy.

             Henry watches nervously as Peter reaches into his jacket,
             pulls out the cigarettes and shakes one out to Henry. 

                                 PETER
                       I shouldn't tell you this.

             Tremulous, Henry takes the cigarette.  He flinches when Peter
             flicks his gold lighter.  Henry lights up.

                                 PETER
                       There weren't any finger prints
                       over there.

             Not meaning to, Henry blows smoke in Peter's face.

                                 HENRY
                            (apologetic)
                       Really?

             Peter remains too close.

                                 HENRY
                       That is weird.

             Peter paints a design with his smoke, smiling.  He enjoys the
             chess match.

                                 PETER
                       'Yeah'.  They were wiped clean.
                       There's no such thing as a doorknob
                       with no prints on it.  Unless...

                                 HENRY
                            (exaggerated)
                       Huh.

             The smile fades from Peter's cool, dusty dry face. 

                                 PETER
                       You sure you didn't hear anything?
                       You can hear right through these
                       walls.

             Henry's eyes flick side to side.  Peter knows he is lying.
             Peter goes to the door reaching into his jacket.

                                 PETER
                       If you have anything to tell me...

             He takes a business card out.

                                 PETER
                       Like, if you see anything--
                            (re: continuing argument
                            next door)
                       or hear anything suspicious...

             There is no place to set the card, so Peter sticks it in a
             crack in the wall.

                                 PETER
                       Give me a call.
                            (opens door)
                       Get some furniture...dude.

             Peter leaves.  Henry relaxes, sighing and slumping.

             INT. THE DEN - NIGHT

             Clay and Mike stare at Henry in disbelief.  They are at a
             table, with untouched beers.

                                 CLAY
                       What are you going to do!?

             Henry shrugs, disconsolate.

                                 MIKE
                       You got to tell, man!

                                 HENRY
                       Dude!  They will throw me in jail!
                       I'll be everybody's bitch.

                                 MIKE
                       What are you talking about?

                                 HENRY
                       I'm on parole!  If I fuck up, I go
                       to jail.

                                 CLAY
                       You didn't do anything!

                                 HENRY
                       I was there!  I was the one who
                       called 911!  All they need is
                       something like this!  I'll go to
                       jail.  Fucking prison.

                                 CLAY
                       He's the one that killed her!

                                 HENRY
                       Not really.

                                 CLAY
                       Not really!?

                                 MIKE
                       That's murder, man.

                                 HENRY
                       It was a fight.  An accident.
                       Plus, it's his word against mine.

             Mike and Clay can't accept this.  Henry must defend himself.

                                 HENRY
                       He already threatened me!  He's
                       crazy.

                                 CLAY
                       So?

                                 HENRY
                       So!  If I go to the cops, he'll
                       kill me!  You don't think he won't?
                       He threatened to kill me just for
                       talking to his wife!
                            (duh!)
                       He will kill me.  They'll throw my
                       dead ass in prison and then,
                       they'll buttfuck me!

                                 MIKE
                       They'll arrest him.

                                 HENRY
                            (quickly)
                       They'll question him.  He'll know I
                       talked, kill me, then they'll
                       arrest him.  I'll be dead and he'll
                       be under arrest for murder.

             They see his point - makes sense.

                                 CLAY
                       What are you going to do?

             Henry downs half his beer.

                                 HENRY
                       I don't know.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - NIGHT

             Joe pretends to enjoy a silly TV show.  Marna comes home.

                                 MARNA
                       Hey.

                                 JOE
                       Hey.

             He gauges her mood.  She takes groceries into the kitchen.

                                 JOE
                       Good day at work?

             SOUND OF A BALL BOUNCING, BA-BUM-BUMP, BA-BUM-BUMP

                                 MARNA
                       Yeah.  Since when do you care?

                                 JOE
                       I care.

                                 MARNA
                       We're just having spaghetti. 

                                 JOE
                       Okay.

             Joe's eyes are pointed at the TV, but his mind is elsewhere.

                                 MARNA
                       How long you been home?

                                 JOE
                       Not long.  Got off early.

                                 MARNA
                       Hope you took a shower.

             She looks at him.  Still in his work clothes.  He didn't take
             a shower.

             The sweat glistens on his face.  The BOUNCING BALL bothers
             him.  BA-BUM-BUMP, BA-BUM-BUMP.

                                 JOE
                            (high-pitch quiver)
                       You have a nice day?

             This draws a look from her.  He must be tired.

                                 MARNA
                       Dinner'll be ready soon.

                                 JOE
                       That's good.

             BOUNCING BALL GETS LOUDER - BA-BUM-BUMP!  BA-BUM-BUMP!

             Joe wipes the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.  He can't
             even pretend to watch TV in this heat.  And that bouncing!

             Marna goes about cooking.  She puts water on the stove and
             turns the gas flame up to high.  She slices a tomato.

             The SOUND OF BALL BOUNCING is getting to Joe.

                                 MARNA
                       You want it spicy?

                                 JOE
                            (quickly)
                       Yeah!  Lots of cheese!

                                 MARNA
                       Okay!  Lots of cheese.  What's on?

                                 JOE
                       I don't know.  Some show.

                                 MARNA
                       What do you want to watch?

             The ball might as well be bouncing off Joe's head.  He wipes
             more sweat.

                                 MARNA
                       There's a special on.

                                 JOE
                       There was a--

                                 MARNA
                       --What?

                                 JOE
                       That lady at the end of the hall.

             Marna stops her knife halfway through a tomato.  The BOUNCING
             stops.

                                 MARNA
                       What about her?

                                 JOE
                       She had an accident.  I guess.

             Marna turns to him.  His eyes stay on the TV.

                                 MARNA
                       Really?

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  Ambulance was here.

                                 MARNA
                       Oh.  Huh.

             Joe manages to look at her.  His eyes are too wide, his face
             held in what he imagines would be a relaxed expression.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - EVENING

             Henry leans against Joe and Marna's wall, sweating.  The
             suction cup is on the wall.  The tape recorder is running.
             He wears headphones.  He listens.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

             They've finished dinner.  The dishes are on the table between
             them and the TV.  Other than the loud TV, it's quiet.

             Joe is more relaxed.  He feels he has gotten past the tough
             part. 

             Marna is thinking.  She is bothered.  She turns to him.

                                 MARNA
                       She was really young.

             His eyes go flat.  It's not over.

                                 JOE
                            (staring at TV)
                       Who?

                                 MARNA
                       The nurse.

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.

                                 MARNA
                       Did you know her?

             He pretends to be engrossed in the stupid show.  He thinks up
             an answer.

                                 MARNA
                       Honey?

                                 JOE
                       Hmm.

                                 MARNA
                       Did you know her?

                                 JOE
                       Who?  Oh.  No.

             She lets it go and watches TV.

                                 JOE
                       Didn't know her.  You?

             They pretend to watch TV, both thinking.

                                 JOE
                       Ever meet her?

                                 MARNA
                       No.  Never even saw her.

             Joe flashes a smile.  He knows she is looking at him and
             keeps his eyes riveted on a commercial. 

                                 MARNA
                       What happened?

                                 JOE
                       What?

                                 MARNA
                       The ambulance.  What happened?

                                 JOE
                            (pinched)
                       I don't know.  Must've had an
                       accident.

                                 MARNA
                       Was she hurt bad? 

                                 JOE
                       I don't know.

                                 MARNA
                       Did they use a stretcher?

                                 JOE
                       Maybe.  Yes.

                                 MARNA
                       You were home?

             Joe shrugs.  Marna accepts this and watches the show.  After
             a few seconds she is thinking again.  Wondering.

                                 MARNA
                       You sure you didn't know her?

                                 JOE
                       Of course, I'm sure!  How could I
                       not be sure?

                                 MARNA
                       That guy mentioned--

                                 JOE
                       --What guy?

                                 MARNA
                       The guy next door?  You know?  You
                       know him.

                                 JOE
                       Oh, yeah.

             Marna turns the TV low revealing:

             SOUND OF TRAFFIC, A DISTANT FADING SIREN, KIDS YELLING

             It was just a couple days ago that the mention of the guy
             next door infuriated Joe.  Now - nothing.

                                 MARNA
                       He's creepy.  He creeps around.
                       Listens.

             She looks at Joe.  He stares resolutely at the TV.  She
             realizes that he and the nurse did know each other.  The guy
             next door was telling the truth.

             Joe senses this.  He watches Marna peripherally.

                                 MARNA
                            (deliberate)
                       He knows things.  He's in that
                       apartment all day.  Doesn't work.
                       He knows.  When people come and go.
                       Who knows who.  Who visits who.   

             Joe stares forward and sweats. 

                                 MARNA
                       Who's had a fight.

             Joe stares.  His breathing is deeper.  He knows he is caught.

             This is all she needs.  Just one last test.  She's out on a
             limb, but...

                                 MARNA
                       Did you hit her?

             Joe's not watching the TV anymore, but he won't look at
             Marna.

             It's true!  They had an affair!  The pain of betrayal shows.

                                 MARNA
                       The way you hit me?

             She stares at him.  He stares at the wall.  Everything has
             fallen apart.  How could it be?  How could this happen so
             quickly?  She comes home from work, everything's normal, and
             in a couple hours, it's all gone to shit.

             Marna turns.  They both stare at the wall with a dumb
             commercial for background.  They think of their marriage -
             all those years!  Down the toilet.

             Marna clears the dishes.  She moves like a robot into the
             kitchen.  With a vacant look, she goes about cleaning up.

             Joe turns the TV back up - just a little, and tries to
             swallow the dryness away.

             Marna turns the water on and puts dishes in the sink.  Then,
             she stares out the window.

                                 MARNA
                       All these years.

             Joe waits.

                                 MARNA
                       How long?

                                 JOE
                       I... 

                                 MARNA
                       We've lived here three years.  How
                       long?

                                 JOE
                       A year.

             Marna lowers her head and grips the sink, which is being
             filled with water.

                                 MARNA
                       All this time we've been talking
                       about having a kid...  You've been
                       fucking the nurse down the hall.

             Joe goes to the kitchen entrance.

                                 JOE
                       I'm sorry.

             Marna straightens up.

                                 MARNA
                       You're 'sorry'?

                                 JOE
                       I'll make it up to you.

             Marna turns to face him, leaning on the sink.

                                 MARNA
                       You will?

                                 JOE
                       I swear!

                                 MARNA
                       How?

                                 JOE
                       I'll--

                                 MARNA
                       --By getting a better job?  So we
                       can move out of this disgusting
                       neighborhood.  By going to school,
                       getting some skills?  Hmm?

             He has no response and takes the abuse.  She's just getting
             started.

                                 MARNA
                       Maybe by learning to cook.  Or, to
                       take a shower when you come home.

             The sink is almost full of water.

             SOUND OF AN APPROACHING JETLINER

             Joe keeps his anger in check, but it takes effort.  This
             amuses Marna.

                                 MARNA
                       You won't be making anything up.

             Marna realizes something.

             JETLINER FADES

                                 MARNA
                       You guys did have a fight.

             On seeing that Joe knows what she is talking about, Marna's
             eyes widen. 

                                 MARNA
                       Oh, my God!  You hit her hard
                       enough to send her...

             Marna's realizes it's true.

                                 MARNA
                       You fucking animal.

             He shakes his head in a weak denial.

                                 MARNA
                       You fucking animal.

             Joe's eyes are like a shark's, flat and staring.

                                 MARNA
                       She told you to fuck off, you get
                       pissed.  Hit her.  Oh, my God!  You
                       little prick.  How could you?

             Joe motions for her to stop.  This only makes her laugh out
             loud. 

             The sink overflows onto the counter, and trickles onto the
             floor.  Marna turns around and turns the water off.

                                 MARNA
                       I don't know why I wasted my time.
                       I thought we would get married.
                       Have kids.  The whole deal. 

             She hangs her head.

                                 MARNA
                       Stupid!  And, now this.  I should
                       have known.  You were never going
                       to be anything.

             SOUND OF AN APPROACHING JETLINER

             Henry listens intently, adjusting the controls on the
             recorder to try and hear past the GROWING ROAR OF THE JET.

             Marna turns to face Joe who struggles to control his anger.

                                 MARNA
                       Oh!  What are you going to do!?
                       Hit me?  Again?
                            (this gets to him)
                       Send me to the hospital.  You never
                       did that before.
                            (he becomes angrier, she
                            enjoys it)
                       That would be perfect!  Me and your
                       honey could talk about what a prick
                       you are!  How good you are at
                       beating women?!  What a lousy lay
                       you are!

             He is seething.  He slaps her.  She is not surprised.

                                 MARNA
                       You pathetic coward!

             THE JET GROWS LOUDER

             Joe whirls for the door and stomps out.  Marna turns back to
             the sink and wets a cloth. 

             Henry tries to listen but the jet's roar drowns out
             everything.  The DIGITAL POWER METERS MAX OUT.  He turns the
             gain down and takes the headphones off.

             Joe reaches the front door, opens it and stops.  The rage
             rises.  He slams the door and turns back to Marna.

             THE FIRST JET FADES, A SECOND JET APPROACHES

             Joe creeps toward Marna, who is crying and tending to her
             face with the cloth. 

             He places the heel of the heavy boot down and rolls his foot
             down slowly.

             SECOND JETLINER ROAR GROWS VERY LOUD

             Joe goes up to Marna, quickly puts his arm around her neck
             and strangles her.

             Marna's eyes fly wide open.  She clenches his arm, digging
             her nails deep.  She scratches his forearm.

             THE JET ROARS DIRECTLY OVERHEAD

             Marna manages to loosen his grip and gasps.  He clamps her
             throat shut again.

             She reaches for the knife and grasps it.  He grips her wrist.
             She pulls the knife across the counter leaving a deep
             scratch.  The knife is pulled across the metal strip on the
             edge of the counter making the:

             SOUND OF THE SNICK AND TING OF METAL HEARD on Henry's
             headphones.  The power meter jumps.  Henry is painting by
             candle light and doesn't notice.

             Marna loosens Joe's arm again and lets out a pinched groan
             and gasps air.  He bears down on her again.

             She slips on the water, and lets go of the knife.  It falls
             on the floor.

             She tries to get her feet under her, but can't.  Joe is
             holding her tilted back.  She keeps slipping on the water.

             She is fading.  Her eyes roll hideously.  Joe bears down with
             all his might.

             Henry is painting with cutting red brush strokes.  His
             recorder is still running.  The digital power meter is
             returning to normal levels.

             JET PLANE FADES

             Joe leans her back so that Marna's weight rest on his chest.
             He crushes her throat.  Her face is bright red, her eyes and
             tongue bulging. 

             His eyes are wild, too.  He spits with effort.

             In a desperate effort, she kicks wildly, knocking over a
             chair, the trash can, and splitting the wood door under the
             sink.  Her arms flail, sending a porcelain coffee mug to the
             floor where it breaks.  Joe can barely control her.

             Henry hears the commotion and goes to the recorder.

             Marna's struggle fades fast.  She bucks and spasms, then her
             hand relaxes and falls from his forearm, revealing scratches.
             Her eyes relax, she closes her mouth.  Her body slumps.

             Henry puts the headphones on. 

             JET IS ALMOST GONE REVEALING: A STUPID COMMERCIAL ON TV

             Henry listens intently.  He isn't getting much.  He pumps the
             volume.

             Joe lays Marna's body on the floor.  Her dress soaks up the
             water.  Her hand slips off her stomach and lands in the
             puddle.

             Joe reels back, slams into the wall, making a THUD.

             Henry is jolted by the sound.  He can hear Joe PANTING

             Joe is panting.  He looks around in a daze.  After just a few
             moments he snaps out of it and springs into action.  He
             stumbles to the trash can and sets it upright.  He
             straightens the chair.  He's on autopilot.

             Intrigued, Henry listens to the SOUND OF DRAGGING.

             He drags Marna's body into the living room and drops in into
             the couch.  He catches his breath for a second then hauls
             Marna into a sitting position facing the TV.

             Joe is settling down, but not showing any remorse.  He
             doesn't seem aware of the gravity of the situation. 

             He sits on the couch next to Marna.

                                 JOE
                       I've done it now.  Haven't I?

             He stares at the TV.  He leans forward mechanically, and
             presses a button on the remote, which is on the table.
             The TV gets louder.  Joe leans back and stares at the TV.  He
             doesn't watch the show, he just points his eyes.

             LATER

             The TV show is different.  Joe still stares, not watching.
             Suddenly, his eyes light up, he snaps out of it, and turns
             the TV off.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - LATER

             Henry is at his door listening to the SOUND OF THE ELEVATOR
             COMING UP.  He opens the door a crack and sees:

             Joe opens the elevator gate and steps in.

             Henry closes the door and listens to:

             SOUND OF THE ELEVATOR GOING DOWN

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry watches at his window.  Joe leaves and heads up the
             street.  Henry is amused by the queer goings on.  He returns
             to his painting.

             LATER - SOUND OF THE CITY'S MURMUR

             Henry notices something.  It's quiet!  It's never quiet. 

             He goes to the wall where the recorder is still recording.
             He dons the headphones.  He turns up the gain.  Nothing.  He
             maxes the gain.  Still nothing.  Weird. 

             Henry goes back to the painting.

             SOUND OF BALL BOUNCE.  Only once.  Then again and again.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - LATER - NIGHT

             Henry steps back to judge the painting.  As he does, THE
             FLOOR SQUEAKS.  He approves of his work.

             He grabs a beer from the fridge and goes to the wall next to
             Joe and Marna's.

             Casually, almost bored, Henry plops the headphones on his
             head and inserts a cassette.

             He hits PLAY, and hears SOUND OF A JET GROW APPROACHING.

             On the tape, Henry listens to INDISTINCT SOUNDS MUFFLED BY
             THE JET'S ROAR.  He can't tell what they are.  He adjusts the
             machine's output and replays the tape.

             This time the JET'S ROAR IS DIMINISHED.  There is the SOUND
             OF A GROAN OR COUGH, THE SNICK AND TING OF SHARP METAL ON A
             HARD SURFACE, followed by A SHARP CRACK. 

             Henry makes more adjustments to the sound and replays the
             tape.  The GROAN AND COUGH sound more like someone choking.
             The SHARP CRACK is clearer.  It's followed by SOMETHING BEING
             KNOCKED OVER, and A PORCELAIN COFFEE MUG BREAKING.

             One thing is clear - there was a fight.

             Henry shuts down the machine and takes the phones off.  He
             takes a swig of beer, enjoying a cool breeze through the
             window.  He listens to the neighborhood and feels uneasy
             about what he has heard.

             The BOUNCING BALL STOPS.  It's suddenly very quiet.  There is
             NO TRAFFIC, PLANES, CONVERSATION.  No sound!  It's quiet!

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - NIGHT

             Henry appears outside the kitchen window.  He tries to see
             into the living room, but the wall is in the way.

             Henry slides the window open and climbs in.  He notices the
             crack in the door under the cabinet.  He goes into the living
             room and freezes at the sight of:

             Marna on the couch.  Henry ducks back behind the wall.

             SOUND OF THE DOOR BEING UNLOCKED

             Henry darts for the window.  He takes a last look at Marna,
             thinking she looks weird, then climbs out the window, closes
             it, and disappears just as the Joe comes in.

             Joe is cradling a heavy paper bag.

             Henry doesn't dare move. 

             SOUND OF AN APPROACHING JET

             Joe sets the bag on the table in front of Marna.

                                 JOE
                       Think I got everything.

             Henry watches.  He can see Joe but not Marna.

             From the bag, Joe takes rubber gloves, a hunting knife, and a
             length of nylon rope, and a soft cloth.  Henry sees all this.

             The jet is overhead - Henry makes his break.  He steps over
             the railing onto his own balcony and climbs in his window.

             Joe doesn't hear Henry.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - NIGHT - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry sits at the wall listening to the headphones intently.
             His face glistens with sweat.  He turns the gain high.  He
             hears A FEW INDISTINCT SOUNDS.  It bothers him.  Why isn't
             there any conversation?

             He stops the machine and puts in another tape, and hits PLAY.

             Behind the JET ROAR, there is the GROAN AND CHOKING SOUND.
             It's pathetic and Henry winces.  Then THE SHARP CRACK.

             Henry replays the tape adjusting to reduce the JET ROAR.  He
             hears the CHOKING SOUND clearer, then a new sound - GASPING.
             Henry replays the tape making finer adjustments.  The GASPING
             is clear, then there is the SOUND OF A METAL OBJECT SCRAPING.   

             Henry replays the tape, boosting the high frequencies.  The
             METALLIC SOUND is clearer.  This time it sounds like a large
             knife blade scraping a smooth hard surface.

             The SHARP CRACK follows the KNIFE BLADE.  Then, the TRASH CAN
             AND CHAIR BEING KNOCKED OVER.

             Henry is catching on.  There was a terrible fight.

             THE JET IS FADING

             SOUND OF THE KNIFE BEING DROPPED.  IT BOUNCES ON THE FLOOR.

             Henry is horrified. 

             SOUND OF SOMETHING BEING DRAGGED, THEN DROPPED ON THE COUCH.

             Henry stops the tape.

             EXT. STREET - CONTINUOUS

             There is a parked car.

             Peter sits in the car watching Henry's window.  The window
             glows red with candlelight.

             Peter looks at Joe's window.  He takes a hit off his
             cigarette, his dry face glowing red.  Through a satisfied
             smile, he draws a picture with a thin stream of smoke.

             INT. BAR - NIGHT

             Henry nurses a beer at the bar.  The bartender notices how
             worried Henry looks. 

                                 BARTENDER
                       Can't be that bad, pal.

             Henry manages a weak but friendly smile. 

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - NIGHT

             Marna is still sitting on the couch.  Her eyes are closed,
             her skin is pallid.  Joe comes into the room with a crumpled
             bed sheet.  The sight of her makes him stop.  He unravels the
             sheet and quickly covers her.

             He sits on the couch next to Marna.  On the table is Marna's
             journal, some paper, and a fountain pen.  The rubber gloves,
             hunting knife, and nylon rope, and cloth are there, too.

             Joe uncaps the fountain pen.  It's clear he has never used
             one.  He wipes the sweat from his brow, then draws the nib
             across the paper - nothing.  He pumps the pen in the air to
             get ink.  After a few tries the pen writes.

             Joe writes Marna's name.  It looks childish.  Joe opens the
             journal.  Inside are some cancelled checks.  Joe examines one
             of these.  They're Marna's checks, signed by her. 

             LATER

             Joe copies the signature.  He works at it.  It gets better,
             until it's acceptable.

             LATER

             Joe returns to the couch with a cup of coffee.  He has a sip.
             Rejuvenated, Joe turns to a random page of the diary and
             starts copying.

                                 MARNA (V.O.)
                       Dear diary.  It's a hot summer.

             Joe wipes sweat, and returns to his copying.

                                 JOE
                       No shit.

                                 MARNA (V.O.)
                       It's tough to look nice, but I try.
                       I'm hoping this year will be the
                       one.
                       We can get married and have kids.
                       Maybe Booby will get his promotion
                       and be more in a mood to get
                       married. 

             Joe snickers coldly.

                                 JOE
                       'Booby'.  That's me.  Staying with
                       you.

             Joe has a sip of coffee and turns to another page.  He looks
             at his work.  It's lousy.  He crumples it and starts over.

                                 MARNA (V.O.)
                       I'm so in love with my Booby.

                                 JOE
                       Stupid bitch.

                                 MARNA
                       I was in love with you.

             Joe reels.  He jumps from the couch staring at Marna.  Barely
             audible, she giggles.

                                 MARNA
                            (whispers)
                       I'm still alive.

             Joe smirks.  He's hearing things.  But, he can't get control.
             Never taking his eyes off her, he moves around Marna and
             reaches for the sheet.  He pulls the sheet off her.

             She sits there, motionless, gray skin.

             It makes Joe queasy, but he has to make sure.  He reaches out
             and touches her neck, immediately recoiling.  She is dead. 

             Of course!  It's late!  I'm tired!  That's all!

             He covers her and gets his coffee cup.

             INT. BAR - NIGHT

             Henry is still at the bar.  His beer has been empty for a
             while.  He worries.  He digs a couple dollars and some change
             out of his pocket, then picks a fine cigarette butt from the
             ashtray.

             The bartender notices Henry's plight and brings a fresh beer.

                                 BARTENDER
                       This one's on me.

                                 HENRY
                       That's alright.  I got it. 

                                 BARTENDER
                       Naw, man.  Every now and then we
                       all need help.

             The bartender offers a cigarette.  Henry stalls, then
             realizes it would be rude to decline.  He takes the smoke.

                                 HENRY
                       Thanks.

                                 BARTENDER
                       You want to talk about it?

             The notion amuses Henry.  Talk about this?

                                 HENRY
                       I got to work this one out myself.

                                 BARTENDER
                       Alright, pal.

             He leaves.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - LATER

             The table is covered with paper, all with writing.  Joe is
             asleep on the couch next to Marna who is still covered with
             the sheet.

             The sheet moves.  Marna reaches out and grasps Joe's arm.

                                 MARNA
                       Wake up, honey. 

             Joe stirs, half asleep.

                                 MARNA
                       You'll be late for work.

             Joe looks at Marna, sees her hand on his arm.

             Joe wakes and gasps.  He looks at Marna.  She is just where
             he left her, still covered with the sheet.

             SOUND OF TRAFFIC, BABY CRYING, DISTANT SIRENS

             Joe relaxes.  Tells himself it was just a dream.  He wipes
             sweat, and rubs out the kinks out of his neck. 

             Joe goes back to the writing, moving his lips.  TRAFFIC
             SOUNDS, BABY CRYING, BALL BOUNCING.

                                 MARNA (V.O.)
                       I can't stop thinking of the cute
                       boy next door.  I know it's wrong,
                       but I touch myself and think of
                       him.

             Joe reads.  He is impressed with the forgery.  Then, he
             realizes what she had written in her journal.  He stands and
             faces her.

                                 JOE
                       You fucking bitch!  You fucking
                       cheating bitch! 

             He hits her, but stops himself.  THE SOUNDS GROW LOUDER.

                                 JOE
                       FUCKING GOD DAMN BITCH!!

             Henry watches Joe's outburst through the open kitchen window.
             He can only see part of Marna, covered with the sheet.  He
             can't tell what she is.

             Joe laughs at the silliness - she's dead - who cares what she
             thought?

             Henry ducks back behind the wall and tries to figure out what
             Joe is doing.  He peeks back through the window just as...

             Joe marches toward window with his arms outstretched like
             Frankenstein's monster.  Henry ducks back quickly and prays
             Joe didn't see him.  Joe sticks his head out the window
             inches from where Henry is.

                                 JOE
                       FUCKING LOUD ASS CITY!!  SHUT THE
                       FUCK UP!!  SHUT UP!  FUCKING STUPID
                       ASS MOTHERFUCKING!!...  I'M TRYING
                       TO WORK!  SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

             Joe slams the window shut.  Terrified, Henry remains frozen.

             Henry leans out far enough to see Joe pouring a cup of
             coffee, then leave the kitchen.  Henry keeps his eye on Joe,
             following him as he goes back to the couch with his coffee. 

                                 HENRY
                            (whispers)
                       Yeah, get some coffee you freak.

             Henry tries for a better view of whatever is covered by the
             sheet.  It doesn't work.  He can't make it out. 

             SOUND OF APPROACHING JET

             Henry takes the cue and waits for the jet's loudest roar
             before climbing back to his balcony and into his apartment.

             INT. PETER'S CAR - CONTINUOUS

             Amused, Peter lights a cigarette.  Then, he becomes serious.
             He knows something heavy is going down.  He sees the candle
             light in Henry's window go out. 

             Peter looks up.  In the window directly above Henry's, Mrs.
             Jones sits knitting and rocking back and forth in a rocking
             chair.  She looks directly at Peter.  She stops rocking a
             moment and grins at Peter, even though it's impossible for
             her to see him.  Peter is disturbed, but shakes it off.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Henry leans against the wall with the headphones on.  Smoke
             rises from the candle next to him.  He turns the gain up and
             concentrates.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Joe finishes writing.  He inspects the note carefully and is
             satisfied.  He is wearing the rubber gloves.

             He stands over Marna.  He removes the sheet.  She sits there,
             eyes closed, skin a sickly green hue.  He is disturbed by the
             sight of her.

             Joe takes the soft cloth and wipes the fountain pen with it.
             He puts the pen in Marna's right hand and presses the fingers
             to the barrel.  He looks at her eyes seeming to ask
             permission.  He places the pen on the table. 

             He goes through the same process with the note, carefully
             pressing her fingers of both hands to the paper.  He places
             the note on the table next to the pen.

             Henry struggles to hear on the headphones.  He hears
             DRAGGING, JOE GRUNTS WITH EFFORT.  Henry adjust the frequency
             controls, reducing the SOUNDS OF TRAFFIC.

             Joe drops Marna's body next to the closet by the front door.

             Henry strains to hear.  SOUND OF CLOTHES HANGERS SCRAPING ON
             A ROD

             Joe removes the few items hung on the closet rod. 

             Henry takes the tape recorder.  He shuffles to the wall near
             the front door.  He licks the suction cup mic and sticks it
             to the wall and hears:  A WOODEN CLUNK

             Joe removes the closet rod from its brackets.  He leans the
             rod against the wall outside the closet.  He takes the nylon
             rope.  He unravels a length of rope about ten feet long and
             cuts it with a knife.

             Joe looks at the ceiling in the closet.  There is a thick
             pipe.  It comes out of one side of the closet and goes into
             the wall on the opposite side.  It's five inches across and a
             foot from the ceiling.  It's eight feet off the floor.

             Henry listens intently.  There is A REPETITIVE SOUND,
             SOMETHING SLAPPING AGAINST AN OBJECT OVERHEAD.  Henry looks
             up. 

                                 JOE
                       Oh, my God!

             Joe tosses the end of the rope up.  It catches around the
             pipe.  He whips the rope so that it works its way over the
             pipe.  Joe jumps up and grabs the end of the rope. 

             Joe has looped the rope over the pipe.

             He is glistening with sweat.  He scowls down at Marna while
             catching his breath.

             Joe ties a slipknot in the rope making a loop.

             He props Marna up to a sitting position.

             He wipes the sweat from his brow.

             Henry listens to SOUNDS OF STRUGGLING, HEAVY BREATHING.

             Joe has pulled Marna into the closet and positions her in a
             sitting position under the looped rope.

             Joe steps out of the closet and gasps air.  His shirt is
             soaked with sweat.  He takes it off, revealing parallel
             scratches on his right forearm.

             He pulls the loop down to the level of Marna's head.

             Joe whirls out of the closet with a sudden burst of emotion.
             He is racked with guilt, shame and loathing.  He fights back
             his tears and takes a few deep breaths. 

                                 JOE
                       It's going to--

                                 JOE
                            (over Henry's headphones)
                       --be okay.  It's going to be okay.
                       I can do it.  I can do it.

             Henry can hardly believe his ears.  What the hell is that guy
             doing?

             Joe has calmed down.  He wipes the sweat, gathers his
             strength and turns to face his task.

             Joe reaches into the closet, grasps the rope, and places the
             loop around Marna's neck, and pulls it tight with the knot
             behind her head. 

             He frees her hair from under the rope, trying to make it look
             nice.  He steps back to check his work.  She looks fine.

                                 JOE
                       This won't hurt.  Okay?

             Joe takes the loose end of the rope and takes up the slack.
             He braces himself for the impact of what he is about to do.
             Joe pulls the rope taught.  The loop tightens around Marna's
             neck and digs into her throat.

             Joe grimaces at the sight of this.  With resolve, he
             continues pulling the rope.  The rope digs deep into Marna's
             throat.  Joe tries to keep his eyes off the gruesome sight.

             Henry listens.  He hears GROAN OF EFFORT. 

             Joe loops the rope around his forearm and hand and pulls.
             Marna rises off the floor a few inches.  Her mouth opens and
             her tongue protrudes.

                                 JOE
                       Oh, fuck!

             Horrified, Joe reels backward, letting the rope go.  Marna
             falls to the floor and onto her side. 

             He backs into the couch and falls onto it.

             Paint chips from the pipe fall onto Marna's body.

             Joe lies on the couch.  He tries to cope with the horror of
             what he is doing.  He wonders whether he can carry this out.
             He sits up, facing the TV.  He stands quickly, whirls to face
             Marna.  She is lying there with the paint chips on her side.

             Henry listens.  A bead of sweat flows down his greasy face.

             Joe wipes the sweat from his face.  He has caught his breath
             and gathered his resolve.  He goes around the couch, his legs
             unsteady, his hands reaching for an invisible support rail.

             Joe crouches in the closet.  Disgusted, he sits Marna
             upright.  He stands back, taking the rope in hand.

                                 JOE
                       Okay.  Okay.  I can do this.

             He moans.  It's pathetic.  He can't face the gruesome task.
             He summons all his courage, and:

             Joe pulls Marna up.  As her butt rises off the floor, her
             mouth opens and her tongue protrudes.  Joe grimaces at the
             sight.  He keeps at it, wrapping the rope around his wrist
             and pulling her up.

             As she rises, Marna's feet are pulled back and under her.
             She rises to chest height.  Panting and sweating heavily, Joe
             anchors the rope under his boot.  He reaches up, pulls the
             rope down, and Marna rises to the level of his face - her
             mouth open wide, her tongue sticking out, and now, her eyes
             open and staring at Joe.

                                 JOE
                       Oh!  God!

             Joe lets go of the rope.

             Henry hears A HEAVY THUD.  He is terrified.

             Marna sits on the floor of the closet.  The soles of her
             shoes are together and her knees far apart.  Her head
             dangles.  She falls back, and her head thuds against the wall
             -  Henry recoils from the sudden loud thud.

             She stares at Joe, her mouth open, her tongue out. 

             Joe struggles to get a grip on his emotions.  This is more
             than he bargained for.  He tries to continue but can't.
             Finally, he finds the strength to go on. 

             He bends to Marna and pushes her knees back together, closed
             her mouth and eyes.  He grasps the rope, but can't go on.  He
             goes to the kitchen and comes back.  He places a paper bag on
             Marna's head.

             Pleased with this novelty, Joe grasps the rope and hauls
             Marna up.  He gets her to the proper height.
             He looks around for something to tie the rope to, cursing
             himself for his lack of planning. 

             He ties the rope to the closet doorknob while bracing the
             base of the door with his foot.  Thinking quickly, he jams
             his wallet under the door.  It holds.

             MOMENTS LATER

             Joe is leaning against the kitchen sink gulping water.  He
             shines with sweat.  He finishes and catches his breath.  He
             goes back to the closet.

             Marna hangs in the closet, her feet are about twenty-four
             inches off the floor.

             Joe steps into the closet.  His eyes are at the level of
             Marna's breasts. 

             The door is slipping over Joe's wallet.  It won't hold.

             Joe reaches up, grasps the bag gingerly with two fingers, and
             pulls the bag off.  Marna's face is a horror.  Her eyes and
             mouth are open wide.  Her tongue sticks out.

             The door slips over Joe's wallet.  It is pulled closed by
             Marna's weight and slams into Joe's back, pushing him into
             the closet as Marna falls into his arms.  Her tongue licks
             his face.  Her eyes stare into his eyes.  The closet door
             closes.  It's dark.  Joe screams.

             Henry reels from the wall, throwing off the headphones, and
             landing on his butt - all in one motion.

             Joe squeezes out through the door.  He pops out like a
             terrified child, the door slamming behind him.

             He swipes invisible spiders from his body.

                                 JOE
                       God!  Oh!  God!  Get off me!

             He moans pathetically, running his fingers through his hair.
             He parades around the room trying to reassemble his sanity.

             MOMENTS LATER

             Joe is slipping a crow bar into the door while pulling on the
             knob.  He jerks the knob and pushes the bar.  He gets the bar
             far enough in and pries the door open, splintering the door
             and frame.

             He gets his fingers between the door and frame and pulls,
             dropping the crow bar.  As he pulls the door open, Marna
             rises into a sitting position.

             He has the door open.  He puts a doorstop under the door and
             pounds it with a hammer.

             LATER

             Joe has untied the rope from the doorknob and is winding it
             around where it loops the pipe, making a knot.  He is
             standing on a two-step ladder. 

             Marna hangs there, her head covered with the paper bag.  Now
             and then, he bumps her or presses against the bag making it
             crumple.  She turns and swings a bit.  The rope creaks.

             Joe has secured the knot enough to pull the slack through the
             looped part.  It's a lousy knot, but it'll hold.  Joe removes
             the bag from Marna's head and steps down.

             Joe places a two-step ladder under Marna's feet.  Her feet
             rest on the top of the ladder.  Joe tips the ladder over.

             He steps out of the closet.  He glistens with sweat, and
             catches his breath.

                                 JOE
                       You fucking bitch.

             Henry listens on the headphones.  He watches the power
             indicators dance as Joe says:

                                 JOE (V.O.)
                       You fucking God damn heavy bitch.

             The lack of a response from Marna worries Henry.

             Joe closes the closet door, pushing the step ladder in.

             MOMENTS LATER

             Joe tosses the rejected notes in the garbage can in the
             kitchen.

             LATER

             Joe holds the note and pen gingerly.  He places them on the
             table next to the closet. 

             He takes the gloves off and tosses them on the couch.

             LATER

             Joe takes a shower.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - DAWN

             Joe gets dressed for work - a green long sleeve shirt with
             his name tag sewn over the pocket, and khaki pants.

             LATER

             Joe makes breakfast.

             LATER

             Joe eats while watching TV.  He finishes, kills the tube,
             puts the dishes in the sink and heads for the front door.
             Joe opens the front door.  Marna is hanging there!  Her eyes
             open!!

                                 MARNA
                       You're leaving early this morning.

             Joe wakes with a start.  He is on the couch.  The dishes are
             still on the table, the TV is still on.

                                 JOE
                       Fuck!  God damn it!

             Joe kills the tube and heads for the front door.  He reaches
             for the doorknob, stops, then opens the door quickly.  Nobody
             is outside.  It's normal.  Joe takes a last look at the
             apartment and leaves.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - DAY

             Henry leans against the wall asleep.  The headphones are on
             and he is drooling.  The digital power meters read zero.
             Henry awakens, bumping his head.  The meters jump.

             He wipes the drool, then listens.  He hears nothing through
             the phones.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             The closet - its door is shut.

             INT. THE CLOSET - CONTINUOUS

             Marna hangs there.  She stares into the darkness.  Through
             the wall -

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             - is Henry.  He is standing.  He has placed the suction cup
             mic higher on the wall.  He listens.  Nothing.

             INT. UNDER A HOUSE - DAY

             Joe works on a pipe under the house.

             EXT. HENRY'S BALCONY - DAY

             Henry climbs out his window crosses to Joe's balcony.

             INT. PETER'S CAR - CONTINUOUS

             Looking pretty scruffy, Peter watches Henry make his way to
             Joe's window.

             INT. MRS. JONES' LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Mrs Jones is knitting.  It's a red sweater, beautifully
             knitted, almost done.  She is watching Peter.  She puts the
             sweater in her lap, and flexes and massages her right hand.

             There is a red rubber ball on the table next to her.  She
             picks it up and bounces it against the wall with her right
             hand.

             BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - DAY

             Henry steps in through the kitchen window.

             BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.

             Henry scans the place before creeping into the living room.
             He sees the dishes and gloves.  He goes to the bedroom and
             looks around - empty.

             Henry goes to the bedroom closet and opens the door.  He
             pulls out one of Joe's green long shirt uniform shirts,
             smirks at it - so dorky.  He puts the shirt back.

             He takes out one of Marna's blouses and smells it.  It smells
             nice, sexy.  He puts it back.

             He goes into the bathroom and picks up an ornamental bar of
             soap.  He smells it - silly trifle.  Fluffy towels neatly
             folded on a rack, color coordinated rug and shower curtain,
             quilted toilet paper - such silly things.

             KITCHEN

             Henry examines the split cabinet door under the sink. 

             FLASH:  INT. HENRY'S LOFT - NIGHT.  THE POWER METER ON SPIKES
             AS A SHARP CRACK PLAYS ON HENRY'S HEADPHONES.

             The amusement Henry felt is replaced with a sobering thought.
             It took a lot of force to break this cabinet door.  

             BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.  BA-BUM-BUMP.

             Henry examines the counter.  There is a deep scratch.

             FLASH:  ROAR OF A JET/MARNA DIGS THE KNIFE INTO THE COUNTER --
             SNICK AND TING ON METAL IN HENRY'S HEADPHONES.

             Henry looks at the chairs at the kitchen table.

             FLASH:  MARNA KICKS THE CHAIR OVER/HENRY LISTENS.

             Henry is serious now.  There was a violent fight.  Suddenly
             inspired, he opens the trash can, reaches in and pulls out
             the pieces of a broken porcelain coffee mug.

             FLASH:  HENRY LISTENS TO SOUND OF MUG HITTING THE FLOOR AND
             BREAKING.

             Henry places the pieces back in the can.  He pulls a crumpled
             piece of paper from the trash can and opens it.  He is
             shocked by what he reads.  He reaches into the can and pulls
             out another wad of paper, opens it and is horrified. 

             He drops the paper back into the can.  Agape, he traces a
             path across the floor.

             FLASH:  HENRY MOVES THE SUCTION CUP MIC OVER NEXT TO THE
             FRONT WALL OF HIS LOFT.  HE STICKS THE CUP TO THE WALL THERE.

             Henry looks at the closet near the front door.

             FLASH:  HENRY LISTENS TO 'SOUND OF DRAGGING'/JOE DRAGS MARNA
             ACROSS THE FLOOR.

             Henry retraces the path on the floor - it leads to the
             closet.

             Henry takes tenuous steps toward the closet, coming to the
             table.

             THE BALL STOPS BOUNCING

             He sees the note Joe left on the table.  He reaches for it,
             then stops, not wanting to touch it.  He leans over it and
             becomes very sober as he reads. 

             He stares at the closet and understands what Joe has done.

             He pulls the paint stained cloth from his pocket.  Afraid of
             what he will find, Henry places the cloth on the doorknob and
             turns it.  He opens the door.  Henry reels:

             QUICK CUT MONTAGE: SOUND OF JET'S ROAR, MARNA'S HEAD FALLS
             AGAINST THE CLOSET WALL - HER EYES STARING/HENRY (IN HIS
             LOFT) RESPONDS TO THE BUMP HEARD ON THE HEADPHONES.

             Henry stares at Marna.  Marna's dead eyes look directly at
             him.  Her mouth is open.

             Henry is horrified.

             RETURN TO MONTAGE: HENRY (LISTENING TO HEADPHONES) HEARS THE
             REPETITIVE TAPPING SOUND/JOE TOSSES THE ROPE, TRYING TO GET
             IT AROUND THE PIPE, MAKING A TAPPING SOUND.

             HENRY HEARS THE SOUND OF SCRAPING/JOE PULLS MARNA UP, THE
             ROPE MAKES A SCRAPING SOUND ON THE PIPE.

             RETURN TO SCENE

             Henry is panicking, almost irrational.  He stumbles back and
             bumps into the back of the couch.  He whirls around and
             stares at the couch.

             FLASHBACK - THE PREVIOUS NIGHT

             Henry watches Joe through the kitchen window.  Joe is sitting
             on the couch working on something (writing).  He is sitting
             next to an object (partially visible) which is covered by a
             sheet.  Henry's POV changes so that the more of the covered
             object can be seen.  It is clearly a covered body!!

             RETURN TO SCENE

             Henry realizes what has happened, what Joe has done.  He
             turns back to Marna.  Grimacing, spitting, and horrified,
             Henry slams the closet door shut with his bare hand.

             Henry struggles to regain control.  What to do?  He hears the
             elevator coming up.  Could that be Joe?  No.  The elevator's
             RATTLING grows louder.  Maybe it is Joe!  The elevator stops
             on this floor!  The gate squeals as it is opened.

             Henry is frozen as he listens to the SOUND OF HEAVY FOOTFALLS
             APPROACH.  They come to the front door and stop.

             Henry bolts for the kitchen window.  SOUND OF KEYS UNLOCKING
             THE DOOR.  Henry climbs out the window just as Joe enters.

             Joe closes the front door and scans the place in a calculated
             way.  He is perfectly under control.  He wears his dark green
             uniform, the shirt sleeves rolled down and buttoned.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Intense and disturbed, Henry listens to the headphones. 

             INTERCUT

             Joe places his tools next to the front door.  He adjusts them
             so they don't look like they were placed their deliberately.

             He gets a beer from the fridge, opens it and pours half down
             the drain, and rinses the sink.

             He sets the beer on the table in front of the TV.  He turns
             the TV on, the volume low.

             He sits back on the couch, affecting a casual posture and
             appraising the room.  He almost has a drink of beer but
             thinks better of it.  He sets the beer down and sighs. 

             It's time.

             Joe stands and walks stiffly to the closet door.  He picks up
             the note, handles it deliberately, then replaces it.

             Joe stares at the phone.  Suddenly, his face contorts.

                                 JOE
                       Oh, God!  My wife!

             Joe's face normalizes while he assesses his performance.

                                 JOE
                       I...I found my wife!  She's...

             He smirks - it was a bad attempt.  He takes a deep breath and
             picks up the phone.  He dials three numbers and waits:

                                 JOE
                       I need an ambulance.
                            (pause)
                       My wife killed herself.
                            (pause)
                       Fourteen oh one East Mercer,
                       apartment four eleven.
                            (pause)
                       No.  Yes.  I don't know.
                       Just send someone.
                            (pause)
                       She hanged herself.

             He hangs up.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Henry sits against the wall, the headphones on his head.  He
             stares in disbelief, breathing heavily.  He takes the
             headphones off and wipes the sweat off his brow. 

             EXT. PETER'S CAR - DAY

             Peter watches an ambulance stop in front of the building.
             Med techs get out and rush into the building.  A cop car
             pulls up.  The cop gets out and goes into the building.

             INT. JOE AND MARNA'S LOFT - MOMENTS LATER

             Joe is standing next to the closet door.  He seems like he's
             waiting for an elevator.  His mind is blank.  He is almost
             bored.  He opens the closet door.  Marna hangs there.  Her
             eyes wide, staring, her mouth open.  Her skin is pale.

             Calmly, Joe inspects her to make sure he hasn't missed
             anything.  There's a knock at the door.

                                 MED TECH 1
                       Emergency medical response!  Did
                       you call an ambulance?

             Joe's expression remains flat as he opens the door.  When Joe
             sees the med techs, he flexes his face and body into the
             proper expression.  It's beautiful acting.  He lets them in.

                                 JOE
                       She in here.

             The cop shows up and follows the two med techs in.

                                 JOE
                       Right in here.

             The techs look in the closet.

                                 JOE
                       I found a note.

                                 MED TECH 1
                       Alright, sir. 

             Med techs check Marna's vitals.  The cop ushers Joe away.

                                 COP
                       Let's step outside.

             Tech 1 shakes his head at the cop.  She is dead.

                                 JOE
                       There's a note...right there.

                                 COP
                       Why don't we step outside?

             They go into the hall.  Peter arrives, shows ID.

                                 COP
                       Detective.

                                 PETER
                       What's going on?

             The cop leads Peter aside.

                                 COP
                       Wife committed suicide.

             Peter nods, suspicious.

             Peter goes to Joe, the cop goes inside.

                                 PETER
                       I'm sorry.

                                 JOE
                       Thanks.

                                 PETER
                       Was your wife under some sort of
                       stress?

                                 JOE
                       Uh, yeah she seemed upset.

                                 PETER
                       Mmm.

                                 JOE
                       I don't know why.

             Joe is sweating.  Peter notices his shirt sleeve is rolled
             down.

                                 PETER
                       I see.  You just found her?

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  Just came home.  For lunch.

                                 PETER
                       Mmm.

             HALLWAY - LATER

             Peter smokes.  Joe waits nervously. 

                                 JOE
                       Could I have one?

                                 PETER
                       Sure.

             Peter shakes a cigarette out of the pack.  Joe takes it, his
             hands shaking.  Peters eyes Joe.

                                 PETER
                       Two deaths in two days.

                                 JOE
                            (eyes flare)
                       What?

                                 PETER
                       Pretty unusual.

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  I guess.

             Peter lights Joe's cigarette.  Joe isn't used to it.

                                 JOE
                       I quit a while back. 

                                 PETER
                       Probably a good thing.  I like
                       them, though.

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  Me too.

             The med techs and cop wheel Marna's covered body out.

                                 PETER
                            (to cop, sotto)
                       Bag her hands.

             The cop glances at Joe and nods. 

                                 PETER
                       Let's step inside.

             They go in.  Peter looks in the closet.

                                 JOE
                       That's where...  It, um...

                                 PETER
                       I know.

             Peter looks over the closet.  The way the rope is knotted
             around the pipe, the over-turned step ladder.  Joe watches
             nervously.  Peter looks at the note, not touching it.

                                 JOE
                       I found that.

             Peter doesn't like the way the note reads.

                                 PETER
                       You and your wife have been
                       fighting?

             Joe is shocked.

                                 PETER
                            (re: note)
                       She didn't say goodbye.  They
                       always say that.  It's a way of
                       venting.  Anger.  You know?

             Peter watches Joe squirm.

                                 PETER
                            (re: long sleeves)
                       Aren't you hot?

             Joe is clearly uncomfortable.  The sweat is showing through
             the shirt.

                                 JOE
                       No.  You get used to it.

                                 PETER
                       What do you do?

                                 JOE
                       I'm a plumber. 

                                 PETER
                       They make good money.

                                 JOE
                            (proud)
                       Yeah.

                                 PETER
                       You work on location?

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  All around.

                                 PETER
                       Well, doesn't it cost a lot, time
                       wise, to come home for lunch?

             Joe can only shrug.

                                 PETER
                       Why don't you bring lunch?  That
                       way you wouldn't have to come home.

             That is a good idea.

                                 PETER
                       I'm thirsty.  Mind if I get a glass
                       of water?

             Peter waits for an answer.

                                 JOE
                       Sure.

                                 PETER
                       Thanks.

             Peter strolls to the kitchen and looks around.

                                 PETER
                       Sure is hot.

             Peter sees the cracked cabinet door under the sink.

                                 PETER
                       Want happened here?

                                 JOE
                            (flustered)
                       It broke.  It was like that when we
                       moved in.

                                 PETER
                            (you don't say)
                       Huh.  You have an ashtray?

                                 JOE
                       No.  Sorry.

                                 PETER
                       That's okay.  I'll just...

             Peter opens the garbage can lid and flicks his ash in the
             can.  Joe is horrified.

             FLASH:  JOE THROWS SEVERAL CRUMPLED NOTES IN THE GARBAGE CAN

                                 JOE
                       The glasses are above the...

             Peter looks at Joe who offers a greasy smile.

             Peter reaches into the can.  He pulls out half of the broken
             coffee mug.  Handling it by its edges, Peter holds it up for
             Joe to see.  Joe comes over.

                                 JOE
                       She must've broke that.

             Joe reaches for the cup, but Peter jerks it away.

             Joe looks in the trash can.  His expression flattens.

             Inside the can, there is the other half of the mug but no
             notes.  Peter gets the other half of the mug and puts both
             halves in an evidence bag.

                                 JOE
                       Do you need those?

             FLASH:  THE FIGHT -- MARNA'S ARMS FLAIL, SENDING THE COFFEE
             MUG TO THE FLOOR WHERE IT BREAKS.

             Peter answers with a sober look.

                                 JOE
                       Are you investigating something?

             Peter goes to the table next to the closet, Joe follows.

                                 PETER
                       I'm always investigating something.

             Peter drops the note into another bag using tweezers.

                                 PETER
                       There's never a shortage
                       of...'stuff' to investigate.

                                 JOE
                       I'd like to keep that.

                                 PETER
                       You'll get it back.

             Joe watches Peter seal the bag.

             Peter sees the splintered door frame.

                                 PETER
                       Was it like that when you moved in?

             Joe shrugs.

                                 JOE
                            (lame)
                       Yeah...

                                 PETER
                       Sorry for your loss.

             Cool as ever, Peter leaves.  Joe waits until the door is
             closed then rushes to the trash can.

             Joe takes the lid off the can.  He stares at the garbage,
             furious and desperate. 

                                 JOE
                       God damn!... 

             He rustles through the garbage.  He whirls and faces the
             living room.

             FLASH: JOE IS WRITING THE PRACTICE NOTES.  HE FINISHES ONE -
             IT'S A BAD ATTEMPT.  HE CRUMPLES IT AND TOSSES IT ON THE
             FLOOR NEXT TO THE COUCH.

             Joe rushes to the couch, falling to all fours to look under
             it.  He finds nothing.

                                 JOE
                       What the fuck...

             FLASH:  JOE GATHERS FOUR CRUMPLED NOTES FROM THE FLOOR BY THE
             COUCH.  JOE THROWS THE NOTES IN THE KITCHEN GARBAGE CAN.

                                 JOE
                       Fuck!

             Joe rushes back to the kitchen and dumps the garbage can on
             the floor.  He drops to all fours and searches the contents.
             No notes.  Just slimy garbage.  Joe is horror stricken.

                                 JOE
                       No!  I put them right here!  I
                       know...

             Joe is shocked to see the window is open.

             FLASH:  SOUND OF BABY CRYING, PEOPLE ARGUING, ETC.  JOE IS
             TRYING TO COPY MARNA'S HANDWRITING.  HE IS DISTRACTED BY THE
             NOISE COMING THROUGH THE OPEN KITCHEN WINDOW.  JOE SLAMS THE
             WINDOW SHUT.

             Someone left that window open!!  Joe sticks his head out the
             window and looks around.  He sees that anyone could climb
             onto his balcony from Henry's balcony.  Henry was here!!

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - DAY

             Peter looks over the tape machine next to the wall.  There
             are black-dried banana peels, empty beer bottles that served
             as ashtrays.

             Peter squats next to the recorder.  He looks over the
             cassettes, reading their labels. 

             INT. BAR - EVENING

             Henry sulks in front of his beer.  He leaves.

             INT. HENRY'S LOFT - EVENING

             Henry enters - the door was unlocked.  He goes to the fridge
             and gets a beer, opens it.  He raises it to his lips and
             stops at the sound of:

                                 JOE
                       I like it when the sun goes down.

             Henry reels back until he runs into the work table. 

             Joe comes out of the shadows pointing a revolver at Henry.
             He looks ashamed in a little boy way - like he skipped school
             and isn't looking forward to the beating. 

                                 HENRY
                       What do you want?

                                 JOE
                       It's so hot.  Everyday...  All day.

             Joe circles, looking at the paintings leaning up along the
             wall. 

                                 JOE
                       These are good.  You could make a
                       living.  Selling fo-fo paintings.
                       In those galleries.  Yeah.  You
                       could do that.  Are you thinking of
                       doing that?

             Henry watches his every move.

                                 JOE
                       Are you?

                                 HENRY
                       Yeah.

                                 JOE
                       You got enough here for a show.
                       Why haven't you?

                                 HENRY
                       I don't know.

                                 JOE
                       You live in this dump...  When you
                       could be making a lot of money?
                       That don't make sense.  What's
                       wrong?  You're good enough.

             Henry shrugs.

                                 JOE
                       That's a nice tape recorder.
                       Expensive, huh?

             Henry waits.

                                 JOE
                            (deliberate)
                       Is that an expensive tape recorder?

                                 HENRY
                       Yeah.  It is.

                                 JOE
                       Well, where'd you get the money for
                       it?  You don't work. 

                                 HENRY
                            (ashamed)
                       My mom.  Sends...money.

                                 JOE
                       Oh!  Your moth-er.  You're a
                       momma's boy!  Pays your bills.

             Henry nods to avoid the repetition of the question.

                                 JOE
                       Well.  Ain't that some shit?  How
                       much do you get?

             Henry wishes he would get to the point.

                                 JOE
                            (re: recorder)
                       Sure looks expensive.  Hi-tech.
                       I'm just curious.  How much--

                                 HENRY
                       --eighteen hundred.  Eighteen
                       hundred dollars.

             Joe stares in disbelief.

                                 JOE
                       Eighteen hundred dollars?

             Joe waits for confirmation.

                                 HENRY
                       Yes.

                                 JOE
                       Your mom sends you that kind of
                       money?

                                 HENRY
                            (exhausted)
                       Yes.

                                 JOE
                       Huh!  That's a mighty fine tape
                       recorder.  When I was a kid, I had
                       one.  Cost like twenty bucks.
                       Didn't do anything with it.  Not
                       like you.  Guess I didn't have the
                       'Artist's' imagination going.
                       Creativity... 

             Henry endures this.  Joe savors his power.

                                 JOE
                       So you sit in here painting your
                       stupid ass pictures...listening to
                       what me and my wife do?  Through
                       the fucking wall?  With a eighteen
                       hundred dollar fucking tape
                       recorder... 

             Joe cocks the revolver, insisting for an answer.

                                 HENRY
                       Yes.

                                 JOE
                       I get up at five in the morning. 
                       Work all day clearing people's
                       toilets...  And, you sit in here
                       painting and listening to your
                       fucking neighbors...

             Henry has had enough.

                                 HENRY
                       Yes, that's what I do.

             Joe closes on Henry and slaps his face hard.

                                 JOE
                       You shut the fuck up!  Fucking
                       smartass.  You think this is a
                       joke?  This ain't no joke.  You
                       know what it's like?  Working every
                       fucking day.  Saving money for your
                       God damn retirement?  So you and
                       your fucking wife can live nice?
                       Hmm?  No!  You don't.  You little
                       pussy. 

             Joe pauses for effect.  It works.  Henry is terrified.

                                 JOE
                       Do you jerk off?

             The question doesn't faze Henry.  Henry doesn't flinch.

                                 JOE
                       When you listen to us.  Hmm?  Jerk
                       off?
                            (hand motion)
                       You know?

             The sweat has soaked through both their clothes.  It's
             getting dark.

                                 JOE
                       I love it when the sun goes down.
                       Gets cool.

             Joe carefully measures what he is about to say.  He adopts a
             friendly attitude.  Sidles to the work table.

                                 JOE
                       Okay, look.  I know you know what
                       happened.  I'm not stupid.  You
                       heard the whole thing...  Decided
                       to have look for yourself.  I don't
                       blame you.  I would, too.  So, just
                       cooperate...  Everything'll be
                       fine.  Okay?  You go back to your
                       stupid life...  And, your little
                       hobby.  And, I go away.  Okay?

                                 HENRY
                       Yeah...okay.

             Joe's grin is triumphant, guilty, apologetic, cold.

             Joe settles next to the painting on the easel, checks it out.

                                 JOE
                       Really good.  I like the frame.

             Joe studies the painting.

                                 JOE
                       You just let mom pay...

             Henry can't pretend he doesn't care.  Despite his situation,
             he is ashamed.

             Henry can't meet Joe's eyes.

             Joe gloats over his victory, his eyes glaring brilliantly,
             then he decides it's time to get down to business.

             Joe opens a can of turpentine, sniffs it, recoiling from the
             odor.

                                 JOE
                       Strong stuff.

             He catches Henry's eye before pouring some onto the painting
             on the easel.

             Henry can't believe this fucker would add insult to injury.
             He loves his paintings, especially this one.  It tears him
             apart to see them destroyed.

                                 JOE
                       Sorry.  If you're not going to sell
                       them...

             Henry is repulsed.  Not by his fate, but by what Joe has
             become.  Joe sees this and feels guilty.  The change is very
             quick.  Joe is like a little boy admitting he has done
             something naughty.

                                 JOE
                       What was I supposed to do?  Huh?

             The little boy act switches to full-blown anger.

                                 JOE
                       They didn't have any respect for
                       me!  Fucking bitches!  It's not
                       like I was cheating, either!  We
                       weren't even married!  And, that
                       nurse!  You think she didn't know?
                       She wanted it!  She knew what she
                       was getting.  She knew.
                            (lost within himself)
                       It was her own fault.  I didn't do
                       a damn thing.

             Joe snaps out of it and selects a brush from the table.

                                 JOE
                       How long does it take?

             Joe runs the brush through the paint.  It smears - wow,
             pretty quick!  Joe zig-zags the brush through the softened
             paint, leaving a ruined strip through the middle of the
             painting.

             He holds the brush up in an affected 'artist' manner and
             appraises his work - quite nice!  He smiles big.

             Joe tosses the brush on the table.  His grin fades.

                                 JOE
                       I got to go.  Where are the notes?

             Henry's eyes flare.  Of course!  That's why he's here!
             Involuntarily, his eyes flick toward the crevice in the wall. 

             Joe notices, looks at the crevice.

                                 HENRY
                       I gave them to the cops. 

             Joe sidesteps to the crevice, keeping an eye on Henry.

                                 JOE
                            (chuckles)
                       I was going to let you go.  I was!
                       Figured...what the hell?  Little
                       twerp didn't do anything.  It's not
                       like you could hurt me.  Right?
                       But, now...  Why'd you have to say
                       that?  'I gave them to the cops'.
                       Man... 

                                 HENRY
                       They'll be here--

                                 JOE
                       --Fuck off!

             Joe is at the crevice.

                                 JOE
                       Don't know what I was thinking.
                       You ain't got no furniture.  No
                       place to hide...

             Joe reaches into the crevice and pulls out some cash and the
             notes.  The BALL BOUNCES ONCE -- BA-BUM-BUMP. 

                                 JOE
                       What's this?  Hmm?  Are these what
                       you gave to the cops?

             Henry is defeated.  He knows he's done for.  Fuck. 

             Joe counts and pockets the cash.

                                 JOE
                            (sincere, apologetic)
                       I'm going to need it.

             Joe strolls back to Henry.  Henry knows he is running out of
             time.  The BALL BOUNCES ONCE -- BA-BUM-BUMP.

                                 JOE
                       Look, pal.
                            (apologetic)
                       I can't leave any loose ends.
                       Plus...
                            (man to man)
                       It's not like I have anything to
                       lose.  And, you weren't doing
                       anything with your life.  So...

             Henry makes his move.  It's getting dark.

                                 HENRY
                       It's really hot.

                                 JOE
                       Yeah.  Takes a while to cool off.

                                 HENRY
                       Mind if I get a drink?

             What the hell?  Guy's thirsty.  BA-BUM-BUMP.

             Henry turns to the work table.  There are the two 1.5 liter
             water bottles - one has a piece of masking tape on the label.
             Henry selects this bottle.  He uncaps it.

                                 JOE
                            (suddenly suspicious)
                       Turn around!

             Henry turns around, making solid eye contact with Joe.

                                 HENRY
                       I'm really thirsty.

             Joe relaxes and motions for Henry to drink.  It's gloomy and
             the flashes from the neon lights become noticeable.

                                 JOE
                       Have a drink.

             Henry takes a big swig from the bottle, keeping his eyes on
             Joe.  BA-BUM-BUMP. 

             Joe is looking out the window, waiting for this to be over.
             He turns back to Henry.

             Henry spits the turpentine in Joe's face.  It's a perfect
             shot - right in the eyes!  Yes!

             Joe reels, blinking and wiping his eyes on his sleeve.  He
             points his gun, staring wide-eyed at Henry. 

             Henry reaches behind him - his hand landing at once on the
             sculptor's knife.  He grips it.

                                 JOE
                       What the fuck!?  You crazy--

             Joe blinks frantically and wipes his eyes.  He's in pain.

                                 JOE
                       You fucking piece of shit!

             Henry moves silently around to Joe's side.

             Joe screams in agony and clutches his eyes.

                                 JOE
                       My eyes!  YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!

             Joe fires a shot where Henry was standing.  The flash lights
             the entire room, then the neon lights take over again.

             Henry emerges from the shadows and stabs Joe in the side,
             then disappears as:

             Joe screams, turns and fires a shot through the window.

             Henry stabs Joe in the back, then sidesteps.

             Joe whirls and fires a shot through the wall. 

             It's almost dark.  The neon flashes red and green, throwing
             bizarre shadows on the ceiling.

             Henry slinks into the shadows and can't be seen.

             Joe whirls, pointing the gun all around.  He has his eyes
             open but is clearly in pain and can't see well.

                                 JOE
                       God damn, you!  You fucking piece
                       of shit!  I'm going to kill you,
                       you little faggot!

             Joe realizes how this game is played.  He waits for the next
             attack.  He is bleeding.

             Henry appears behind Joe with a length of pipe with spigots
             and sprinklers wielded to it.  Henry slugs Joe's back. 

             Joe whirls.  Henry goes for the second strike to the face.
             Joe points the gun at Henry's face.  Henry grabs Joe's wrist,
             keeping the gun pointed inches from his head.  Joe catches
             the pipe just before it lands on his skull.

             Joe knows he has the advantage and sneers, inching the gun to
             Henry's face - the flashing neon highlights glistening sweat.

             Henry can't win this way.  He kicks Joe between the legs.

             Joe gasps and Henry pushes the gun to the ceiling.  There is
             a blinding blue-white flash when the revolver goes off.

             MRS. JONES' LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Mrs. Jones is on all fours with her ear pressed to the floor.
             The gun blasts and she stares aghast at the hole that has
             just appeared in the floor two feet from her face.  She
             skitters on hands and knees to the hole and looks through it.

             HENRY'S LOFT - CONTINUOUS

             Joe is alone - spitting, wild-eyed.  He tosses the pipe.  He
             has figured it out - he is totally out matched.

                                 JOE
                            (fierce)
                       Okay!
                            (as brave as possible)
                       Okay...

             Joe's face contorts in pain and defeat.  He is almost blind
             and points the gun, stiff and random. 

             The room is all shadows and murk.  Henry can't be seen.  The
             flashing neon lights disorient Joe.

             Joe searches for the door.  He backs into the work table and
             now has his bearings. 

             He backs toward the door, the gun stiff-armed.  His left hand
             is extended, the fingers splayed, searching for the wall.
             Joe drags his feet along the floor, taking short steps.

             He has made it halfway to the door.

             The door flies open, Peter is there, his 9mm auto held ready.
             Light from hall fills the room revealing henry hiding in the
             corner.  Joe points the gun at the door.

                                 JOE
                       Who's there!?

             Peter ducks, then realizes Joe is blind.  Joe stares wildly
             and points his gun at Peter, but off target.  Peter scans the
             room as he moves further out of the line of fire - quietly. 
             His experience shows.  He is totally cool, under control.

             Peter nods at Henry, who is pressed into the corner, relieved
             to see him. 

                                 PETER
                            (conversational, musical)
                       This is the police.

             Joe points gun in the direction of Peter's voice, Peter
             dodges his aim. 

             Joe's breathing is raspy.

                                 PETER
                       Put the gun down.

             Joe whirls on Peter's new position, but Peter has already
             moved - he is arcing back to the door. 

             Joe is pointing the gun directly at Henry.  Henry gulps and
             glides to the other corner, stepping over the tape recorder
             without having to look - he puts his heel down first then
             rolls the rest of the foot - silently.

                                 PETER
                       You don't have a chance.

             Peter ducks under Joe's aim and moves back toward the middle
             of the room.

             SOUND OF APPROACHING SIRENS

                                 JOE
                       I have to get out.

                                 PETER
                       We know what you've done.

             By now, Peter has become expert at dodging Joe's aim -
             anticipating, flitting, and ducking.  It's beautiful.

             Now from another spot:

                                 PETER
                       There's no way out.  We know you
                       killed them.  Backup is on the way.

             Joe tries his best to keep up with Peter, who dodges as he
             speaks.  Joe's breath is more ragged.  He's desperate.

             Peter watches like a hawk.  He is made of fluid stone - his
             movements slight and graceful, his breath smooth.

             Joe's shirt is stuck to his chest.

             Henry sweats - his wide eyes riveted, his mouth open.

             Peter's skin is powder dry.

             They all listen.  It's obvious that Joe isn't going anywhere.
             They all know it.
             Henry revels in the fact that Joe will face justice.  Joe is
             crestfallen.  Peter's concentration is that of a duelist - he
             has no thoughts.

             The SIRENS GROW LOUDER.  One of the cops arrive, screeching
             to a halt.

                                 PETER
                       Give it up, pal.

             Joe responds to Peter's voice, training his revolver in that
             direction. 

             Peter reacts instantly, sidestepping Joe's aim.  As he does,
             Peter steps on the loose floorboard - it SQUEAKS!        

             Peter's eyes flare as Joe adjusts his aim - directly at him!

             Joe fires, hitting Peter.  Peter fires back, hitting Joe.

             Joe shoots again.  This time, Peter falls.  His gun goes
             skitters away, stopping at Henry's feet.

             Peter is holding his wounds and moaning. 

             Joe hones in on the sound.  He limps toward Peter holding his
             side, blood spreading under his fingers.  Joe's foot kicks
             Peter.  Joe bends, feeling his way.  He finds Peter's hands,
             there is no gun.  Joe grins and cocks his revolver. 

             Peter knows it's over, so he gets in a good last line.

                                 PETER
                       You ruined my suit.

             Joe stands and points his revolver at Peter's face.

                                 JOE
                       Now, I'm going to wipe that grin
                       off your face.

             Henry picks up Peter's 9mm gingerly with his left fore finger
             and thumb.  It's obvious he has never handled a gun.  The
             barrel scrapes on the floor.

             Joe hears this and whirls on Henry.  He is surprised Henry
             even picked up the gun and positive Henry won't shoot.

                                 JOE
                       Well.  What do you know?

                                 PETER
                            (to Henry)
                       Don't!  Run!  He can't see.

             SOUND OF COPS COMING UP THE STAIRS

             There is the WHOOSH OF STEAM from the pipe.  The cloud of
             steam billows outside the window.  The neon lights light the
             cloud, flooding the room with flashing red and green light. 

             This lights Henry well enough for Joe to see - he takes aim.

                                 JOE
                       You little fag!

             The remark hits Henry in the gut.  He is frozen.

             Joe pulls the trigger.  CLICK.  No bullets!  Dang!

                                 JOE
                            (sheepish)
                       I'm out!

             Henry, relieved, hears the cops coming.  He decides to wait a
             few seconds and let them handle Joe.

             Joe hears the cops, too.  He snickers, knowing Henry must let
             them arrest him.

             Henry changes his mind.  He transfers the gun to his right
             hand and takes aim.

             Henry shoots Joe, sending him crashing onto the work table.

             The cops enter, scan with flashlights and guns drawn.  Curls
             of blue smoke hang in the air.  Joe is sprawled on the table. 

             It's completely silent.

             Henry raises his hands, with the 9mm.  The cops secure him
             and see to Peter and Joe.

             INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE MRS. JONES' APARTMENT - DAY

             Peter is waiting.  He wears a new, expensive three-button
             suit.  He has recovered completely.

             SOUND OF A BALL BOUNCING.  BA-BUM-BUMP, BA-BUM-BUMP.  He
             knocks - again, this time louder.  THE BOUNCING STOPS.  After
             a moment, the door opens.

             Behind Mrs. Jones, next to the window, her rocking chair
             rocks.  She isn't surprised that it's Peter.  This has become
             an annoyance.  She waits for the question.

             Peter sighs.  Does he have to ask?

                                 PETER
                       Have you heard?

                                 MRS. JONES
                       Detective...  Maybe you should let
                       it go.

                                 PETER
                       Ma'am.  This boy is breaking his
                       parole.

                                 MRS. JONES
                       He wants a new life.  He's been
                       through enough.

                                 PETER
                       Withholding evidence is a crime.

             She's seen decades of turmoil.  Lived through a world war!
             Isn't about to take this tripe from a man who wears a
             ridiculous expensive suit on such a hot day.

                                 MRS. JONES
                            (twinkling)
                       You going to arrest me?

             Peter holds his ground for a moment, but gives up.  He can't
             win.  Is he willing to haul this woman into court?  No. 

             A bead of sweat rolls down the side of Peter's face.  The
             silliness of it all raises a smile.

                                 PETER
                       You have a good day.

                                 MRS. JONES
                       You too, detective.

             She smiles sportively and closes the door.

             Peter stares at the door until the BA-BUM-BUMP starts again.
             Elegantly, he lights a cigarette, blows the smoke out in a
             formless cloud, then leaves.

             INT. WACKY FARM - DAY

             Joe watches intently.  His eyes don't move.  He doesn't
             blink.  Creepy Big Guy appears behind him.  Joe's eyes flick
             around.  Creepy Big Guy takes a step, the FLOOR SQUEAKS - he
             winces.

                                 JOE
                       I hear you!  I can hear you!

             Skinny Skittery Guy grabs Joe's sandwich runs off with big
             creepy guy.  They eat the sandwich.

             Joe feels around.  He is blind.  He discovers the sandwich is
             gone.

                                 JOE
                       I know what you do!  I know!  I
                       know it's you!  I'm listening!

             Joe sneers in defeat.  An overweight female NURSE comes over.

                                 NURSE
                       I'll get you another one.

             Joe is in a wheelchair.  One of his feet has come off its
             support and rests on the floor.  The nurse picks it up and
             replaces it in the footrest.  She wheels him away.

             INT. JOE'S ROOM - DAY

             It's a cell, really.  Ten by fifteen feet.  There's just a
             bed and TV.  Nothing is on the walls, there are no curtains.
             Heavy wire mesh covers the window.  The walls are made of
             cinder block painted a pale green.  Florescent lights hum.

             Joe is urinating into a bedpan.  He finishes and the nurse
             takes the bedpan.  She turns the TV on, places the remote in
             Joe's hand, and leaves.

             BA-BUM-BUMP, BA-BUM-BUMP.  The sound grows louder.  Joe is
             horrified.  He listens, waits.  BA-BUM-BUMP!!!

             An attendant wheels a cart past Joe's door.  It has a bad
             wheel and makes a rhythmic bumping sound.  The SOUND FADES.

             Joe relaxes.  He doesn't know what to do.  There is nothing
             to do but sit there.

             LATER

             Joe stares.  He is looking into his past, regretting his
             choices.  An agricultural report is on TV.

             INT. THE CUTTING EDGE ART GALLERY - DAY

             A small well-dressed middle-aged MAN inspects Henry's
             painting with an educated eye.  It's the painting Joe ruined
             with the turpentine.  Its form split down the middle by a
             muddled streak with zig-zag lines in it.

             The entire gallery is filled with Henry's work.

             Henry approaches.  He is wearing nice jeans and a beautiful
             knitted red sweater.  He has an expensive haircut.

                                 MAN
                       This is really an excellent work.

                                 HENRY
                            (gracious)
                       Glad you like it.

             The man refers to the streak down the middle.

                                 MAN
                       Genius, really.

             Henry's face lights up with a brilliant smile.

                                 HENRY
                       Came to me in a flash.

             The man chuckles.

                                 HENRY
                            (polite)
                       I'm closing up, now.

                                 MAN
                       Oh, sure.

             The man takes out one a business card and a pen.

                                 MAN
                       I'd like something for my home.
                       Could you give me a price?

             He hands Henry the card and pen.

             Henry writes and gives the pen and card back.  The man looks
             at it.  It's a high price, and it's fair.  The man is
             impressed.

                                 MAN
                            (joking)
                       Have to clear this with the wife. 
                       I'm sure she'll say yes.  I'll come
                       back.

             Henry nods.  The man leaves. 

             LATER

             Henry turns the lights off.

             EXT. CUTTING EDGE ART GALLERY - DAY

             Henry locks the door.  He has an army surplus shoulder bag.
             He heads up the sidewalk.

             EXT. BEACHFRONT STREET, SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA - DAY

             It's a beautiful, sunny late afternoon.  Henry strolls down
             the street checking out the in-line skaters in bikinis.  He
             arrives at CLAY'S TEAHOUSE, a few doors down, and goes in. 

             INT. CLAY'S TEAHOUSE - CONTINUOUS

             It's a cozy place.  Half-full of mostly young customers.  At
             each table they enjoy a pot or two of tea complete with
             cozies.  Ethno/World music plays on the stereo.

             Mike comes out of the office in the back and locks the door.
             Clay gives last-minute instructions to a teenage clerk behind
             the counter.

             Henry motions to them from the door.  Mike and Clay join
             Henry.  They leave.

             EXT. BEACHFRONT STREET - MOMENTS LATER

             Henry, Mike, and Clay stroll toward the beach.

                                 CLAY
                            (re: sweater)
                       Aren't you hot in that?

                                 HENRY
                       Naw.  It's all in the mind.

             She giggles at the pretense.  He joins her.  Henry and Clay
             have opened beers.  Henry gives the shoulder bag to Mike, who
             pulls a beer out.

                                 MIKE
                       Isn't this illegal?

                                 HENRY
                       Lot's of things are illegal.

             A cute girl skates past.  She says hi to Henry and smiles.

                                 MIKE
                       Who was that?

             Henry smiles sheepishly and shrugs.

                                 CLAY
                       Who is she?!  Give us a name!

             The beach is filled with kids playing volleyball, barbecuing,
             and sunning.

                                 HENRY
                       I don't know!  Just a friend!

                                 CLAY
                       Right!

                                 MIKE
                       Sure!

                                 HENRY
                       She is!

             Clay and Mike stare at Henry.  Henry laughs out loud.

             Henry, Mike, and Clay stroll toward the water's edge and the
             sunset.

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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.

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