Leopard Man, The

Writers: Ardel Wray

Genres:

 









THE LEOPARD MAN

Screen Play

by 

Ardel Wray

From the Novel BLACK ALIBI by Cornell Woolrich

                                                       FADE IN


               On the fountain at El Pueblo. A jet of waiter rises into the
               air at regular intervals, tossing an empty ball in rhythm.
               Below the ball, the water cascades into the second tier of
               the fountain. SUPERIMPOSED over this fountain are the main
               and credit titles. Throughout the running of the titles we
               hear castanet music growing louder and louder. When the last
               credit title FADE OFF we begin to


                                                       DISSOLVE


               The corridor, backstage at El Pueblo. An empty corridor
               stretches away before us. The CAMERA TRUCKS ALONG this
               corridor. The sound of the castanets is so loud and ringing
               now that it has a furious and stormlike quality. The camera
               seems to search for the source of this sound. It approaches
               two open doorways at the end of the corridor.


               Through the doorway on the right we see a dancer in Spanish
               costume. She pirouettes in a final whirl of the dance as the
               CAMERA MOVES IN TO a CLOSE SHOT of her beautiful back and the
               two castanets she holds up over her gleaming naked shoulders.
               Over the diminishing trill of the castanets, as the dancer
               finishes her dance we hear a dull and angry pounding. The
               castanets click to an end.


               The CAMERA MOVES LEFT to take in the adjoining door to show
               us the source of this sound.


               INT. KIKI WALKER'S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT


               Kiki Walker as she finishes pounding on the wall for silence
               in the adjoining dressing room and turns back into her own
               room. She is young, blonde and represents that peculiar
               phenomenon of our time, the chorus girl and entertainer who
               is more lady-like than the majority of Junior Leaguers. Road
               shows, one night stands and even a short turn in burlesque
               have left no battle scars. She may know many a hard word, but
               she never uses it.

               MED. SHOT - Kiki's room. Kiki slams shut the door of her
               dressing room. Her dressing room is a small bare cubicle with
               a sink, easy chair, dressing table and a long mirror on the
               closet door. On the dressing table, among a clutter of jars
               and ointments, is a small musical trinket box. The closet
               door is partially ajar.

               In the room with Kiki is Eloise, the cigarette girl at the El
               Pueblo, a brightly blondined young lady. Her nether limbs are
               well display in black stockings. A cigarette tray is slung
               over her shoulder.

                                   KIKI
                             (as she walks
                             across the
                             room)
                         It may sound like music to her
                         -- I can do better with my teeth in
                         a cold Shower.
                             (mockingly)
                         Click — click — click.

                                   ELOISE
                             (shrugging)
                         She's a local. When the dudes come
                         out to New Mexico, they went to
                         wallow in Latin glamour. This is a
                         bad town for blondes.

                                   KIKI
                         Yes. So I've noticed. Jerry's
                         noticed -— He'll come up with
                         something.

                                   ELOISE
                         You think be's pretty nice, don't
                         you?

                                   KIKI
                         Why not? He's a good press agent
                         and a good friend. Besides, we've
                         shared a lot of headaches ——

                                   ELOISE
                         You're lucky. I wish he'd front
                         page for me.

                                   KIKI
                         Maybe. For three years I've sung in
                         rats' nests, while Jerry pounded
                         his feet off and his brains out --
                         trying to get me a real chance.
                         We're due for a little luck!

               Kiki walks across to the make-up table and sits down in front
               of it, lifting her hands to unwrap the towel which is wrapped
               around her head to protect it from make-up. Eloise starts
               toward the door, but pauses to admire herself in the mirror,.

                                   ELOISE
                         I don't mean this personally, Miss
                         Walker, but it's ironic —-

               She pauses, striking a pose the better to look at her own
               sleek legs in the minor.

                                   ELOISE
                         I mean you being a star and me
                         being just a cigarette girl.

                                   KIKI
                             (turning from
                             (the mirror to
                             look at Eloise)
                         I know. I know. You've got the
                         talent. I got the breaks.

               She turns back to the mirror.

               NED. CLOSE REFLECTION SHOT of Eloise. We see Eloise admiring
               herself in the long mirror and also the edge of the dressing
               room door as it slowly begins to swing open.

                                   KIKI'S VOICE
                         I hear it in night club.

               Eloise can see what is opening the door. She lets loose with
               a shriek of mortal terror.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Kiki. She whirls quickly and rises, her
               mouth open in a soundless ejaculation of fright.

               REVERSE SHOT - the door. Through the doorway comes the black,
               spade-shaped head of a panther, ears wickedly flat, muzzle to
               the floor. He starts into the room with a terrifying zigzag
               undulation. Eloise yips feebly. Kiki screams.

               As the panther advances into the room, one can see that it is
               held on a taut leash. Holding the leash is Jerry Manning,
               with a wide, pleasant smile of reassurance on his lips.

               CLOSE SHOT Kiki on top of the dressing table. She stands
               there holding her dressing gown back across her knees in
               terror. The little jewel box has fallen to the floor, and the
               insipid tinkling tune fills the room as it rolls across the
               floor toward the panther.

               MED. SHOT - Kiki, Eloise, Jerry and the panther. Kiki stands
               on top of the dressing table; Eloise has retreated behind a
               chair, and Jerry stands between them, grinning, holding the
               leash of the panther, which is nosing forward to examine the
               music box

                                   KIKI
                             (hitting high C)
                         Get it out of here!

                                   JERRY
                         Kiki -- he won't hurt you. There's
                         nothing to be afraid of.

                                   KIKI 
                         Makes no difference. Get him out!

                                   JERRY
                         Listen, Kicks, you'll never guess
                         what I've cooked up this tine...

                                   KIKI
                         That's easy. Me. 

                                   JERRY
                         I thought -- is Kiki just going to
                         walk on that floor tonight ——walk
                         out cold before a bunch of gawks
                         who think a Spanish twirler is the
                         greatest thing in life. No. Not my
                         favorite client. She's going to
                         make an entrance this town will
                         never forget!

                                   KIKI
                             (pointing to the leopard)
                         On his back, I suppose.

                                   JERRY
                             (kidding her)
                         No. I thought that might be just a
                         little corny. I want you to lead
                         him in on a leash.

                                   KIKI
                         You're too good to me.

                                   JERRY
                         Look, Kicks, have I ever done
                         anything to hurt you?

                                   KIKI
                         No —- not yet.

                                   JERRY
                             (quite sincerely and with
                              evident affection)
                         And I never will- you know
                         what's between us — we're a thing 
                         But this is serious competition.

               ALTERNATE SCENE

                                   KIKI 
                             (hitting high C)
                         Get it out of here!

                                   JERRY
                         Kiki - he won't hurt you. There's
                         nothing to be afraid of.

                                   KIKI
                         Makes no difference.  Get him out.

                                   JERRY
                         Listen, Kicks, you'll never guess
                         what I've cooked up this time.

                                   KIKI
                         That's easy. Me.

                                   JERRY
                         I thought -— is Kiki just going to
                         walk on that floor tonight walk out
                         cold before a bunch of gawks who
                         think a Spanish twirler is the
                         greatest thing in life. No. Not my
                         favorite client. She's going to
                         make an entrance  this town will
                         never forget.

                                   KIKI
                             (pointing to the
                             leopard)
                         On his back, I suppose.

                                   JERRY
                             (kidding her)
                         No. I thought that might be just a
                         little corny.  I want you to lead
                         him in on a leash.

                                   KIKI
                         You're too good to me.

                                   JERRY
                             (sentimentally)
                         Look, Kicks, how long have we known
                         each other?

                                   KIKI
                             (flatly)
                         This is l939. Can't you subtract?

                                   JERRY
                         Almost three years, isn't it? And
                         have I ever done anything to hurt
                         you?

                                   KIKI
                         No —— not yet.

                                   JERRY
                             (quite sincerely and
                             with evident affection)
                         And I never will -- you know what's
                         between us -— we're a thing -- But
                         this is serious -- big competition.

                                   KIKI
                         Clo-Clo?

                                   JERRY
                             (indicating leopard)
                         I thought you might strut this
                         kitten in right in the middle of
                         her act.

               Kiki grins. Jerry reaches for Kiki's hand, and passes the end
               of the leash over her fingers.

                                   JERRY
                         Come down to earth— and see what a
                         picture you'd make with this for a
                         pet.

               Keeping a wary eye on the leopard, Kiki lets Jerry help her
               down. She stands as far away from the beast as the leash will
               permit.

                                   ELOISE
                             (warily, from behind the
                              chair)
                         And if you've got cold feet honey,
                         Ill take over for you. That red
                         dress of yours fits just perfect on
                         me.

                                   KIKI
                             (exasperated, turning to
                              her)
                         I bet you try on my coffin some day
                         -- I hope it "fits just perfect."

                                   JERRY
                             (hastily to Kiki)
                         You look swell in that three—alarm
                         number --

                                   KIKI
                         The red dress?
                             (thinks a moment)
                         No. My black one. Then I'll be just
                         like him.

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:

               INT. PATIO EL PUEBLO CAPE - NIGHT

               CL0SE SHOT - the fountain. The CAMERA is FOCUSED on the
               extreme height of the jet of water. We watch the ball on top
               of this jet as it rises and falls for a few beats. Over this
               shot we hear the music of a Mexican orchestra.

               The CAMERA MOVES DOWN and BACK to reveal the upper tier of
               the fountain with the water flowing over its edges. 

               The CAMERA MOVES BACK and we see the wide pool at the base of
               the fountain. In this pool we see Clo-Clo reflected, as she
               dances.

               The CAMERA PANS to take in the actual dancer and we see Clo
               Clo whirling and turning in a tight circle. She is
               illuminated by several baby spots concealed at the base

               of the fountain, and this light makes a nimbus of light
               around her. It is a sort of superaura which washes out the
               background haze, leaving the dancer clear-cut and sharp in
               the midst of this superaura.

               As Clo-Clo's dance widens in movement, taking her to the edge
               of the light nimbus, we can see her, the tables and the
               patrons of El Pueblo.

               The El Pueblo cafe is the smartest night club in this small
               New Mexican resort town. The main dining room is in the
               patio. Here are tables mantled in snowy tablecloths,
               glittering candlelight and sparkling glassware. On the porch
               is an open space for the performers and the orchestra on one
               side  On the other side is a bar.

               Tonight, El Pueblo is crowded. Waiters, dressed in rather
               formal costumes with black trousers and short, white coats,
               scurry between the tables. A good portion of -the patrons are
               in evening clothes.

               Clo—Clo dances. The rhythmic rattle of her castanets beat out
               above the orchestra.

               Clo-Clo is New Mexican. Like the broncos of her native state,
               she is all fine, proud, pure Spanish blood. It has suffered a
               change in the high clear air of New Mexico. In her dance,
               too, we see the more primeval strain of the Indian twisted
               among the finer threads of Spanish rhythm.

               She dances. In the pool we see the heavy flutter and turn of
               her skirt. Her neck, her bosom, her arms, bend and sway and
               turn and pulse with the bloodbeat of the castanets. She is
               just entering a graceful turn of the dance, the castanets
               beginning a glissade, when suddenly she stops dead, the click
               of the castanets cutting off abruptly.

               REVERSE SHOT - the doorway leading into the El Pueblo. Framed
               in this doorway is Kiki, slim and tall in a black gown with
               black gloves, and in her outstretched hand is a black leash
               which links her to the leopard. Behind her the doorway is hot
               with light so that we see her dramatic outline, a silhouette
               against luminosity.

               MED. LONG SHOT - the cafe. A buzz of amazement sounds from
               the crowd. There is a flutter of astonishment and timidity.

               CLOSEUP of Clo—Clo.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Kiki. Behind her in the doorway Jerry
               Manning's face appears. It is obvious that Kiki, despite her
               dramatic pose, is surreptitiously nervous.

                                   JERRY
                             (sotto voce)
                         Don't stand here, Kiki. You're on
                         stage. They're looking at you.

               Kiki moves majestically forward.

               MED. LONG SHOT — a table near the dance space. Kiki, the
               leopard moving before her, threads her way between two
               tables, the patrons drawing away from her black escort as she
               passes. A waiter, carefully holding the chair between him and
               the leopard, makes a place for her at an empty table.

               Clo—Clo, feet wide apart, arms and hands still half raised
               and holding the castanets, watches. The orchestra plays
               feebly on.

               Suddenly Clo—Clo smiles. She lifts her hands a little higher,
               takes a step forward and lets the castanets loose with a roll
               that sounds like machine—gun fire. The leopard startled,:
               twists in a half turn of fright, strains suddenly at the
               leash and lunges forward. The leash pulls out of Kiki's
               frightened hand.

               REFLECTION SHOT in the pool. The still water reflects the
               quick bound and leap of the leopard in its panic flight for
               freedom.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Kiki. She stands leaning against the table,
               trembling in fright. Behind her Clo—Clo can be seen can be
               seen on the platform, smiling. Jerry comes into the scene,
               puts his arm about Kiki's waist.

                                   JERRY
                         Are you all right?

                                   KIKI
                             (wildly, and
                             in disgust)
                         Now look what you've done.

               The familiar tone of anger reassures Jerry.

                                   JERRY
                             (briefly)
                         You are all right.

               MED. SHOT - the leopard bounding through the gate.

               MED. SHOT at the gate. A waiter with a napkin over his arm
               and a water carafe in his hand, stands aghast, pressing his
               back to the wall in fear. The water carafe falls with a
               crash. The waiter holds up his hand, dazed. His hand is
               streaming with blood.

                                                       DISSOLVE

               EXT. PASAJE DE LAS SOMBRAS - NIGHT

               SHOT of four policemen, their backs toward us, going through
               the Alley of the Shadows. Two of them are beating on pots and
               pans to make a noise. Two others are flashing their
               flashlights from one side to the other.

               We TRUCK WITH them down the alley. They bring us to the open
               end of the passage, athwart which a fire truck is parked.
               Near this fire truck stands the Chief of Police, Robles, a
               dignified, well—spoken, Mexican police officer, serious and
               conscientious, very much on duty at all times.

                                   ONE OF THE POLICEMEN
                         No leopard, Chief -- no cat, no
                         kittens, nothing. We're going to
                         tackle the houses 

               Robles nods. He makes a gesture to one of the men on the fire
               truck and two long lances of light pierce the darkness of the
               alley.

               LONG SHOT - Pasaje De Las Sombras. The shafts of light from
               the searchlights cross and re-cross, moving, as they explore
               the dark jags and corners of the alley. It is one of the
               oldest streets in town, so narrow that even at noonday, the
               sun has difficulty lightening its dark shadows. The adobe
               houses, standing wall to wall, were never built on any
               straight geometric line; the street makes a dog-leg,
               meandering, as if loathe to reach its own blind end.

               MED. LONG SHOT — the mouth of the alley at the other side of
               the fire truck. This is a-scene of curiosity and confusion. A
               police cordon has been erected, and several uniformed Mexican
               policemen are busy shooing away the spectators, foiling the
               attempts of small boys to get under the ropes, and generally
               trying to reduce chaos to an ordered hunt for the leopard.

               At the mouth of the alley, next to the fire truck is parked a
               curious conveyance, a half-ton truck with a gaudy sign which
               reads:

               CHARLIE-HOW-COME
               THE LEOPARD MAN
               STRETCH LIKE A PANTHER FOR MUSCLES OF STEEL

               Leaning against a fender of this vehicle is Jerry Manning,
               hot, disheveled and excited. He is talking with a short
               Indian, Charlie How—Come, dressed in Levis, a velvet Zuni
               jacket, and with a battered felt hat on his coarse black
               hair.

                                   CHARLIE HOW-COME 
                         Remember what you said: Ten bucks
                         for the loan of my cat —-two
                         hundred and twenty-five if anything
                         happened to it.

               Jerry tries to control his exasperation.

                                   JERRY
                             (with strained patience)
                         But nothing has happened to it. It
                         got into this alley, and there's no
                         way out of it. They'll find it.

                                   CHARLIE HOW-COME
                         You don't get the idea, Mister.
                         These cops banging those pans,
                         flashing those lights -— they're
                         going to scare that poor cat of
                         mine, Cats are funny. They don't
                         want to hurt you -- but if you
                         scare them -— they go crazy. These
                         cops don't know what they're doing.

               A little Mexican boy who has seen listening to the
               conversation between Jerry and Charlie, is suddenly attracted
               by something off in the darkness. Grinning, he turns on the
               hand flashlight he is holding and points it off into the
               darkness of the alley.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Clo-Clo's legs. The flashlight picks up a
               pair of shapely legs and holds on them as they move forward,
               The legs stop their walking motion and suddenly begin to
               stamp with the heel taps that are part of her dance. The
               light snaps off.

               MED. SHOT - Jerry and Charlie. Clo—Clo comes in from the
               left. She grins at the men.

                                   CLO-CLO
                             (to Jerry)
                         Maybe, Mr. Manning would like to
                         help me? I do not need a leopard. I
                         have talent.

               Jerry is furious and about to make some retort. Clo—Clo
               laughs and takes her hands from her pockets. She is holding
               her castanets, and a ribald rattle drowns anything Jerry
               might want to say.

                                   CLO—CLO
                             (moving off)
                         Goodnight, Mr. Publicity Man.

               Jerry glares after her.

               EXT.  FLOWER SHOP - NIGHT

               This is a small flower shop. One or two vases hold wilted
               flowers which have been left in the display window. Behind
               them is a mirror. In this mirror we can see the mouth of the
               alley and Clo-Clo as she walks away from the men and comes
               toward the flower shop.

               EXT. STREET - NIGHT

               Clo—Clo passes the flower shop and continues on.

               The CAMERA TRUCKS WITH her. She passes several dark doorways
               and comes abreast of a dimly lit shop. Behind the grimy
               window of this store is a large hand—lettered sign:
            
               GENUINE GYPSY READINGS
               HAND OR CARD

               From the dark doorway of this store, a voice calls out.

                                   MARIA'S VOICE
                         Why are you hurrying, Clo-Clo?

                                   CLO-CLO
                             (with a derisive twitter
                              of her castanets)
                         Oh, it's you. Faker!

               Suddenly a white, thin hand and arm appears from the shadows
               of the doorway. The hand holds a deck of cards, extending
               them toward Clo-Clo temptingly.

                                   MARIA'S VOICE
                         Take a card, Clo-Clo. See what the
                         night holds for you.

               Clo-Clo hesitates. Looks at the deck of cards.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         Your cards are a joke. I wouldn't
                         give you a centavo.

               She starts to move away.

                                   MARIA'S VOICE
                         One card Clo—Clo -- for nothing.

               Clo-Clo stops. Pretending indifference, she casually reaches
               out and takes a card.

               INSERT	ACE OF SPADES in Clo-Clo's hand.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Clo—Clo as she stares at the card. She
               laughs and flips the card back into the darkness of the
               doorway, letting the castanets in her other hand speak of her
               disbelief.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         Faker!

               She starts off along the street.

               CAMERA TRUCKS WITH her. She passes an open doorway. In the
               shadow lounges a tall thin man, his figure merging with the
               darkness. He is smoking. We can see the glow of his
               cigarette.

                                   CLO—CLO
                             (in passing)
                         Hello, Shorty.

               The man disregards a verbal reply, but blows a smoke ring
               toward her. She pokes' her index finger through the ring
               playfully and goes on.

               The CAMERA MOVES WITH her. In the area way of the next
               building are two lovers, pressed close to each other and
               close to the wall..

                                   CLO-CLO 
                         Oo! Oo!

                                   THE GIRL
                             (protestingly)
                         Clo-Clo.

               Clo-Clo goes on. From a window a young girl is peeping,
               looking up and down the street with large frightened eye a.

                                   CLO—CLO
                             (smiling)
                         Hello, Chiquita.

                                   TERESA
                             (smiling back, a little
                              hesitantly)
                         Hello, Clo-Clo.

               Clo-Clo goes on, but our CAMERA REMAINS. This is Teresa
               Delgado, a wisp of a young girl, whose childish, smooth face
               might go unnoticed if it were not for her enormous and
               wistful dark eyes. She has on a skimpy cotton dress drawn in
               at the waist with a five-and-ten cent store belt. Having
               looked again up and down the street she pulls down the sash
               and turns back into the room.

               INT. DELGADO HOUSE - NIGHT

               The Delgado house is typical of the poorer Mexican homes in
               New Mexico. This main room, which is small, serves as living
               room, bedroom and kitchen. An Indian blanket covers the
               doorway into the only other room. The adobe walls are
               plastered with pictures of religious subjects.
               The wooden floor is bare. There is a charcoal-burning brasero
               in one corner. Pots and pans on the hearth of the fireplace
               show that it is a supplementary stove, The rest of the
               furniture consists of an iron bedstead, a large and hideous
               oak table and an open-faced china cabinet which contains the
               Delgado treasures.

               Pedro, Teresa's nine-year-old brother is seated at the oak
               table, eating from a bowl of frijoles. He is, and looks like,
               an imp. Teresa is backing away from her mother, who turns
               away from the window to face her angrily.

                                   TERESA
                             (evidently resuming
                             a discussion)
                         But, Mamacita -- why can't Pedro go
                         this time? I'm so tired...

                                   PEDRO
                             (complacently)
                         I'm too young.

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         If your father comes home and there
                         are no tortillas, he will shout ——
                         and tomorrow it will be all over
                         town: the family of Juan Delgado is
                         too poor to buy corn meal! Do you
                         wish we should be so disgraced?

               Teresa shakes her head, but makes no move to go. Exasperated,
               Sra. Delgado reaches for the nearest weapon -- the broom.

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         Then go!

               Sra. Delgado brandishes the broom toward Teresa, who backs up
               again.

                                   PEDRO
                         I know what she's afraid of...

               Pedro lifts his hand. It casts a sharp shadow on the wall
               behind him. Watching the shadow, he manipulates his fingers
               so as to create the shadow of a leopard's head in miniature.

                                   PEDRO (CONT'D)
                         This!

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         And what, por todos los santos, is
                         "this"?

               Teresa braves the threatening broom and moves a step toward
               her mother.

                                   TERESA
                             (eager to be believed)
                         The leopard, Mamacita. They say a
                         lady at the El Pueblo had it on a
                         string and it ran away. It hasn't
                         been found yet...

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         A leopard?

                                   PEDRO
                             (gleefully)
                         They're big -- and they jump on
                         you!

               Pedro jumps the shadow on the wall, to simulate the leap of a
               leopard.

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                             (furiously)
                         Did you ever meet one of those
                         things yet when you went to the
                         store for me?

               Teresa swallows, shakes her head mutely.

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                             (bellowing)
                         Then you won't meet one this time
                         either! Now get out! Do as I told
                         you!

               Sra. Delgado gives the broom such a backward swing of final
               purpose that Teresa hurriedly opens the door behind her and
               slinks out backwards -- her big liquid dark eyes, still
               futilely pleading, the last to disappear. Sra. Delgado moves
               after her, pushing the door closed.

               She puts the broom in the corner and goes to where Pedro is
               seated. Here she stands a moment, fondly watching him as he
               masticates his beans. Behind her the door stealthily opens.
               Teresa tries to sneak back into the room. Mamacita sees the
               movement and makes a tempestuous rush toward her, but Teresa
               sidles out of the door before she can be caught. Mamacita,
               muttering, slams the door shut and with difficulty pushes the
               heavy, rust-covered iron bolt into place.

               EXT. DOORWAY DELGADO HOUSE - NIGHT 

               Teresa stands outside the door. We hear the heavy bolt inside
               driven home forcibly.

                                   SRA. DELGADO'S VOICE
                         Now —— you will not come in again,
                         not until you bring the corn meal
                         with you!

               EXT. STREET OUTSIDE DELGADO HOUSE - NIGHT 

               Teresa steps down from the single doorstep outside her house.
               She crosses her arms and pulls her shoulders together in a
               gesture of fear. She looks once, despairingly, at the closed
               door behind her —— and then reluctantly steps out into the
               dirt road and starts walking.

               EXT. CALDERON GROCERY - NIGHT

               Only a large corner window, with the word. "Provisiones"
               printed on it shows that this ordinary house is a grocery
               store. In the moonlight, one can see a few boxes of groceries
               stacked on shelves inside. Teresa comes up to the window and
               peers in. She knocks on the window.

                                   TERESA
                         Senora Calderon It is Teresa,
                         Senor. Teresa Delgado.

               Over Teresa's shoulder, we see the interior of the little
               store light up dimly as a curtain is pulled at the back of
               the room. Beyond the curtain is revealed another room,
               brightly lit by a bare electric globe hanging from the
               ceiling on a cord. Under the light, a man sits at a table,
               heartily eating from a plate heaped with food. The curtain
               has been pulled back by Senora Calderon. We see her only in
               silhouette and the details of her face and figure are
               indistinguishable. We do see, however, that her long black
               hair is down her back and she is braiding it. She walks a
               little ways into the darkened store.

                                   SRA. CALDERON
                             (speaking loudly to be
                              heard through the window)
                         The store is closed.

                                   TERESA
                         I just want a sack of corn meal for
                         my father's supper!

                                   SRA. CALDERON
                         Tomorrow.

                                   TERESA
                             (imploringly)
                         It'll just take a second. ..Please
                         ——or I must go clear across the
                         Arroyo to the big grocery --

               Teresa taps against the window hopefully. But Sra. Calderon
               turns back toward the doorway into the inner room, where the
               solitary feaster hasn't even bothered to look up during this
               exchange.

                                   SRA. CALDERON
                             (as she goes)
                         It means taking off the lock again,
                         putting on the light, measuring the
                         meal. It's too much trouble. Once I
                         close, I close!

               Sm. Calderon steps into the inner room and draws the curtain
               closed behind her, as she speaks the last words. Again the
               store is in darkness -- only a rim of light showing around
               the edges of the curtained doorway.

                                   TERESA
                             (quietly — hopelessly)
                         Senora...

               There is no reply. Teresa turns away.

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. EDGE OF ARROYO - NIGHT

               The Arroyo is a deep narrow cut in the mesa, bone—dry in this
               season. Its floor of bleached sand and weeds stretches
               desolately wider a vast moonlit sky. Here and there,
               children's feet have scuffed steep little trails down the
               banks.

               Teresa appears at the top of one of these trails. She looks
               down into the Arroyo -- and then off to the right.

               A distance down the Arroyo is a bridge which carries a train
               track across the dry river bed. To divert the rush of rain
               water in winter and spring, the bridge is underpropped by two
               slanting stone piers. They stand out like ribs against the
               blackness of the underpass, which they divide into three
               tunnels.

               Teresa's face shows her dread of the Arroyo. She turns back
               the way she came, takes a step away, hesitates and then
               returns to the edge of the bank.
               She starts down the little trail, her feet sliding in the
               loose sand and a shower of pebbles bouncing down ahead of
               her.

               EXT.	ARROYO FLOOR — NIGHT

               Teresa stands at the bottom of the bank. She looks off to the
               bridge again. Then she starts walking forward slowly, a very
               little figure in the large loneliness of the night.

               EXT. EAST SIDE OF BRIDGE - NIGHT

               Teresa comes up to the face of the underpass with its three
               openings. She stares from one black tunnel mouth to another.
               She glances behind her, then looks at the underpass again.
               Teresa goes forward again, toward the middle tunnel.

               EXT. EAST ENTRANCE OF MIDDLE TUNNEL - NIGHT

               The roof of the underpass is only a little higher than
               Teresa's head and the passage is not more than ten feet wide.
               The opening is dimly lit by the moonlight, but beyond it is
               dense blackness. Teresa enters slowly. She takes a few steps
               toward the blackness —- and stops. She listens. Teresa moves
               forward again, walking as lightly as possible. The light dims
               rapidly, so that after Teresa has taken a half dozen steps,
               she is swallowed up in complete blackness.

               The CAMERA HOLDS for a moment on the dark underpass before
               Teresa emerges from the blackness on the West side. A light
               scratching sound is heard. Teresa's eyes widen in panic as
               she hears it and she hurries out of the tunnel, watching
               fearfully ever her left shoulder. She must cut across in
               front of this other tunnel in order to get to the south bank.
               She starts across, never taking her eyes off the black tunnel
               mouth. Suddenly she gives a convulsive start and a little cry
               escapes before she can control it. A shadowy shape, low to
               the ground, detaches itself from the dimness of the tunnel
               opening and moves toward her. Almost at once, we see that it
               is a large tumbleweed, blowing clown the Arroyo in the wind.
               Teresa sighs soundlessly and goes on to the foot of the bank.
               She starts scrambling up another steep little path.

                                                       DISSOLVE

               INT. BIG GROCERY STOPE - NIGHT

               This is a fairly good—sized room, lined with shelves and
               counters. A tall, Indian-type Mexican with iron-grey hair
               puts a paper sack of cornmeal on the counter in front of
               Teresa.

               She starts toward the door, but noticing a bronze cage with
               two toy birds in it, a mechanical device which has stood
               there for years, she goes toward it, puts down her sack of
               corn meal and goes up close.

                                   TERESA
                         Oh, the toy birds!

                                   MANUEL
                         You've seen them before. I couldn't
                         chase you away from the counter
                         when you were a little girl.

               She winds up the bird cage.

                                   TERESA
                         I'd forgotten them.

                                   MANUEL
                             (smiling, goodhumoredly,
                              skeptical)
                         Every day you see them --and you
                         have forgotten them? Oh, I remember
                         my little Teresita -- I remember
                         the little girl who was afraid of
                         the dark. They shouldn't send you.

               The birds have begun to sing,a highly mechanical rendering of
               a bird song.

                                   TERESA
                         I'm not afraid. What could happen
                         to me?

               The birds sing and she pretends to listen. Manuel leans
               against the inner door of the grocery watching her, smiling
               and amused. Finally his smiling irks her into action. She
               picks up her sack of corn meal.

                                   TERESA (CONT'D)
                             (as she
                             starts off)
                         I'll pay you tomorrow.

                                   MANUEL
                         Never fear - - next time you come.
                         The poor don't cheat one another.
                         We're all poor together.

               In the bronze cage the two birds continue to sing their
               mechanical song. Their heads turn from side to side.
               We hear the door close behind Teresa. The birds are still
               singing as we

                                                       DISSOLVE

               EXT. CORNER WEST SIDE OF BRIDGE - NIGHT

               There is a sound of slow, measured dripping. It comes from
               water seeping out between two rocks and dropping onto another
               rock below. These rocks are piled up at the juncture of the
               bridge and the left bank and the water is evidently leaking
               from some water main or sews go pipe running under the
               highway overhead.

               EXT. WEST SIDE OF BRIDGE - NIGHT

               Teresa is approaching the entrance of the middle tunnel, She
               is evidently scared —- her footsteps are lagging and she
               holds the sack of corn meal in both hands, as if feeling its
               weight. She looks fearfully at the black tunnel before her
               and comes to a standstill, trying to peer into the blackness.
               In the silence, the dripping of the water can be heard.
               Teresa looks up and to the left to locate the sound. She sees
               the shining dampness on the rocks. She turns back to the
               middle tunnel before her -- and, drawing a deep breath of
               resolution, starts to enter it. But she hesitates and then,
               suddenly, veers over to the left. She peers into the opening
               of that tunnel.

               INT. OPENING OF NORTH TUNNEL - NIGHT

               The wall of the tunnel is also damp with the seepage from
               above. It reflects the outer moonlight in glistening streaks,
               so that the blackness here is not so complete as in the other
               tunnel..

               EXT. WEST SIDE OF BRIDGE - NIGHT

               Teresa gets a fresh grip on the bag of corn meal by shifting
               her hands under it -- and walks into the entrance of the
               north tunnel.

               INT. NORTH TUNNEL - NIGHT

               Again, the crunching sound of Teresa's footsteps are
               magnified in the enclosure of the tunnel walls. It is very
               dim, but the luminosity of the damp wall casts a faint light
               on Teresa, reflecting in her wide, frightened eyes. She walks
               slowly and lightly, her eyes going from side to side in the
               darkness, her neck and head held rigidly. Suddenly she stops
               with a sharp intake of breath, Ahead of her and to her left
               are two tiny gleams of light. Teresa backs away from them. As
               she does so, they seem to fall and vanish.
               Slowly Teresa moves forward again, staring at the place where
               the lights had been. As she moves parallel to the spot, they
               appear again. A half-cry dies away in her throat --she sees
               that the gleams are two drops of seepage, trickling down the
               side of the tunnel wall. Teresa half closes her eyes and
               sways a little, faint with fear. Then she forces herself to
               move forward again. She takes one -- two fearful steps -- and
               then the underpass reverberates with a sudden tremendous
               shock of sound -— more a giant vibration than actual noise.
               It is a train passing overhead.

               INT. NORTH TUNNEL - NIGHT

               As Teresa stands transfixed, the terrific roar continues.
               Second after second, flashes of light as brilliant as
               lightning illuminate the interior of the tunnel — the
               reflections thrown into the Arroyo by the train windows. And
               then, as abruptly as it began, the noise ceases. It is
               cavernously dark in the tunnel again. In this thick
               stillness, Teresa walks forward once more.

               EXT. EAST SIDE OF BRIDGE - NIGHT

               In the frame of the tunnel opening, Teresa stands for a
               moment. Behind her, there is a new sound -- a mere whisper of
               sound carried forward on the light wind. A little shower of
               rubble falls from the top of the concrete pier. Teresa turns
               to look behind her.

               Crouched on one of the piers of the trestle -— and seen only
               very dimly in the darkness -- is the leopard, looking down
               into the Arroyo.

               An enormous big HEAD CLOSEUP of Teresa.

               An enormous big HEAD CLOSEUP of the leopard, its clear golden
               eyes fixed and staring.

               EXT. ARROYO FLOOR - NIGHT

               Teresa's nails dig into the paper sack of corn meal and
               little trickles of the meal start spilling from the slits.
               Her eyes widen and her face falls slack from the horrible
               shock of what she sees. She turns and runs.

               EXT  EDGE OF ARROYO - NIGHT

               Teresa scrambles frantically up over the edge of the bank.
               She stumbles ana falls and the sack of corn meal drops from
               her hands and spills onto the ground. In a single move,
               Teresa is on her feet and running again. A shadow flashes
               over the spilled meal and we hear a heavy, ripping snarl.

               INT. DELGADO HOUSE - NIGHT

               It is quiet and peaceful in the Delgado home. Senora Delgado
               is puttering about the brasero. Pedro, on all fours, is
               reading a comic book, his rump high in the air, his chin two
               inches from the book. Suddenly, a wild rain of knocks on the
               door fill the little room. Sonora Delgado, at the brasero,
               drops a spoon with a clatter and Pedro springs up.

                                   TERESA'S VOICE
                             (screaming)
                         Mamacita, let me in! Let me in, let
                         me in!

                                   SENORA DELGADO
                         Hah!

               Sonora Delgado smirks knowingly and puts her hands on her
               hips.

                                   TERESA'S VOICE
                         If you love me, let me in -- !

                                   SENORA DELGADO
                             (mimicking Teresa)
                         Mamacita -- let me in. Let me in,
                         now that I've spent half the night
                         getting the corn meal!

                                   TERESA'S VOICE
                         It's coming -— it's coming closer.
                         I can see it...

                                   PEDRO
                         She is afraid of the leopard.

                                   SENORA DELGADO
                         Just what she needs -- something to
                         nip at her heels and hurry her up - 

               She is interrupted by a scream so high, of such agonized
               finality,that it makes the others before it seem like nothing
               at all. Mingled with the scream and blurring the end of it
               comes an impact of such violence that the whole door
               structure shakes with it from top to bottom. A puff of dust
               wells up around the door from the impact of the blow.

                                   REPRO
                             (his voice high with fear)
                         Madre do Dolores, she isn't
                         fooling!

               Pedro jumps to his feet. An instant change has come over the
               face of Senora Delgado. She hurls herself forward.

                                   SENORA DELGADO
                             (beseechingly)
                         Wait, Teresa! I come! I will let
                         you in...

               Senora Delgado tugs at the rusty bolt.

                                   SEN0RA DELGADO
                         Only a moment, querida, hija do mi
                         alma -- your mother is here --

               As Senora Delgado tugs vainly at the bolt, Pedro darts over
               to the fireplace and grabs up a stone from the hearth.

                                   SENORA DELGADO 
                         Your mother will let you in - -

               Pedro rushes to the door and pushes his mother's hands aside.
               He hammers the unruly bar back with the stone.

               Then, he draws back and looks down at his feet. Senora

               Delgado's horrified eyes follow his glance.

               Under the crack of the door seeps a dark tongue of blood,
               widening and lengthening on the rough wooden floor.

                                                       DISSOLVE

               CLOSE SHOT of display window. The flowing blood dissolves
               into a film of water flowing across the window.

               The CAMERA PULLS BACK and we see a long handled squeegee come
               down the left hand side of the window, clearing a strip of
               clear glass. Through this clear glass we look into C. T.
               Johnson's Undertaking Parlor.

               INT. UNDERTAKING PARLOR - DAY (AS SEEN THROUGH THE WINDOW)

               This shop occupies an ordinary store building. The display
               window contains a solitary wreath of gilded leaves. Behind
               this wreath is a green baize curtain. The shop itself has a
               sad air of unctuous gentility. On the left side of the room
               are coffins on polished brass tressels. These coffins are
               half open to reveal the luxurious satin linings. In the back
               is a roll-top desk and swivel chair. In the rear of the shop
               is a door leading to the embalming room. This is curtained
               with the sane green baize. Over this whole interior is the
               eerie moire light that comes through the water-flowing
               window.

               Uncomfortable and stiff in their grief, we see the Delgados.
               The fat Senora, the little boy and the father in his stiff
               blue serge Sunday suit, stand near the wall. With them is a
               nun in the sweet, sad costume of the Carmelite order. At the
               other side of the room stands Kiki, somewhat abased, and very
               ill at ease in the presence of the Delgados' grief.

               The window cleaner steps closer to the glass, lifts up his
               long handled squeegee and opens up another strip beside the
               first.

               INT. UNDERTAKING PARLOR - DAY

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of the doorway taking in the Delgado family.
               Senora Delgado is weeping, with tears running unchecked down
               her big flat cheeks. Her husband, unable to express his
               grief, stands twisting a cheap velour hat in work-gnarled
               hands. The little Delgado boy, unable to comprehend the
               finality of death is interested and quick-eyed, letting his
               glance rove from one object of interest to another, then
               suddenly bored, as is the manner of children, distracts
               himself by making the leopard shadow on the wall.

               From the other room we can hear, the sound of men's voices,
               not clearly distinguishable, but growing in clarity. Kiki
               opens her purse, fumbles out a little soiled sheaf of bills
               and crosses the room. She hands the money to the nun.

                                   KIKI
                             (in a half whisper)
                         Sister, I'd like the family to have
                         this -- might help with the funeral
                         expenses.

               The nun smiles, nods her head and tucks the money up under
               her sleeves. Kiki crosses back to the other side of the room.

               Midway through this action, the voice in the other room has
               risen in volume and clarity so that we hear the coroner
               speaking. From behind the green baize curtain the words come
               in that solemn, yet routine fashion, which is the specialty
               of county clerks and other minions of the law.

                                   CORONER'S VOICE
                         ...this evidence having been
                         presented before me on this, the
                         tenth day of April, I hereby
                         declare that Teresa Guadalupe Maria
                         Delgado was brought to her death by
                         violence, resulting from the
                         release of a wild animal, a
                         leopard, purportedly on theatrical
                         exhibition in this city -- Death by
                         accident.

               As the last word is spoken, Jerry makes his appearance
               through the doorway. His face is drawn and earnest,
               reflecting the ordeal of looking at the mutilated remains of
               the young girl. He crosses the room toward Kiki.

               MED. SHOT of Jerry as he takes his place beside Kiki. He
               looks at her as if seeking some comforting sign of
               friendliness. She keeps her eyes purposely averted from him.

               MED. SHOT. Through the curtained doorway come the coroner and
               Robles. The coroner carries a sheaf of papers in his hand.
               Coming through the doorway quickly, he turns and seats
               himself at the desk in order to sign and seal these
               documents.

               Chief Robles, with his uniform cap in his hand, goes over to
               the Delgado family. In his face we can see the sympathy and
               feeling he has for his fellow townsmen. Fe puts his arm about
               Delgado's shoulder and embraces him with that peculiar
               Mexican embrace in which the hand and arm thump the
               embraces's shoulders.

                                   ROBLES
                         It's all right, my friend. It is
                         the will of God.

               The genuineness of his sympathy and the sincerity of his
               voice take the banal touch from these simple words. Jerry
               looks on with interest. He turns to Kiki.

                                   JERRY
                             (sotto voce)
                         Suppose I slip them a few bucks —
                         for the funeral expenses.

                                   KIKI
                         Don't be soft.

               She pulls sharply at his arm to emphasize the point. He
               shrugs, abashed.

               From the inner room a fourth man comes out, a medium sized
               gentleman in a light gray business suit with a felt hat in
               his hand. His face seems stiff and he walks a little bit
               unsteadily. Passing Jerry, he extends his hand and pats
               Jerry's arm.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         An unfortunate accident. Nobody
                         blames you, Mr. Manning. You
                         mustn't feel badly.

               Jerry nods; not at all anxious for further condolences.
               Galbraith goes on to stand in the doorway. Robles leaves the
               Delgado family and comes over to where Jerry and Kiki are
               standing.

                                   ROBLES
                         You can go now, Manning. There is
                         no way we can hold you legally
                         responsible.

                                   JERRY
                         Thanks, Sheriff.

               Robles passes on a step or two, and then with a glance at
               Jerry.

                                   ROBLES
                         That leopard's got to be found. I'm
                         forming a posse. I can use help. -

               From the doorway, Galbraith answers quickly.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         Count me in.

               Jerry makes an impulsive move forward -- then stops himself.

                                   JERRY
                             (shaking his head)
                         I haven't done any posse work since
                         last time I rode with Toni Mix at
                         the old Bijou Theatre -- aged six,
                         If you're interested,

                                   ROBLES
                         Go on foot.

                                   JERRY
                         It's not for me.
                             (grinning)
                         I'm literally and figuratively a
                         tenderfoot.

               He lifts one foot and pats the ankle to illustrate his point.
               Robles passes on and out of the doorway, Galbraith joining
               him. With a backward look at the Delgado family, and a little
               hesitantly and slowly, Jerry and Kiki also leave the funeral
               parlor.

               EXT. UNDERTAKER'S PARLOR - DAY

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Jerry and Kiki as they stand in the center
               of the sidewalk.

                                   JERRY
                         I suppose he was trying to make me
                         feel bad.

                                   KIKI
                         And I suppose you don't feel bad!

               Before Jerry can protest.

                                   KIKI
                         Who was the other man?

                                   JERRY
                         I don't know —— a witness. He
                         seemed to know something about
                         animals -- you know -- expert
                         testimony.

                                   KIKI
                         What did he have to do -— look at
                         the body?

                                   JERRY
                         We all, had to look at the body. It
                         was awful, Kiki -- awful!

               Kiki makes a movement as if to put her hand comfortingly on
               his sleeve, then changes her mind, dropping her hand.

               MED. SHOT - Undertaking Parlor - as the Delgado family
               emerges and starts down the street. The mother and father
               walk ahead, the father's arm about the mother's shoulder.
               They are followed by Pedro, his hand in the Nun's hand as
               they walk together. Kiki and Jerry fail to see them, and it
               is necessary for Senor Delgado to ask for room.

                                   SENOR DELGADO
                         Excuse, please.

               Jerry and Kiki move hurriedly out of the way to let the
               little group of mourners go past. Jerry and Kiki stand
               watching them for a moment.

               CLOSEUP of Jerry, his expression betraying anxiety and
               indecision.

                                                       DISSOLVE

               INT  CLO-CLO'S DRESSING ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON

               LARGE HEAD CLOSEUP of Maria. The beautiful face of the
               fortune teller, coifed and framed in the folds of a shawl,
               looks pure and Madonna—like. Her downcast eyes add to the
               holy feeling. Then, suddenly, her hand comes up and puts a
               lighted cigarette droopingly between her lips. The Madonna
               pose is shattered as though a stone had been thrown into
               still water.

               The CAMERA MOVES BACK to show Maria seated at Clo-Clo's
               dressing table, dealing out the cards. The last card to leave
               her hand is the Ace of Spades. She gazes at it for a moment,
               then hastily rakes up the deck and shuffles the cards.

               Behind her during this entire scene we have heard the tinkle
               of Moorish finger cymbals in metronome-like rhythm, the
               sounds spaced far apart.

                                   CLO-CLO'S VOICE
                         That card again?

               MED. SHOT - Clo-Clo and Maria. Clo-Clo is behind Maria. She
               has on a practice suit; black jersey leotards to the waist
               and a black silk bandeau about her breasts. She is using the
               chair rail of the dressing room as a bar to practice a ballet
               step while she beats out the slow rhythm of her exercise with
               the Moorish finger cymbals. Maria again deals the cards and
               Clo-Clo continues to play and practice. There is a
               contrapuntal rhythm between the dealing of Maria's cards and
               the slow tinkle of the cymbals.

                                   MARIA
                         I made a mistake. It was a
                         misdeal. I'll try once more.

               The cards "slap—slap' as she deals. As they fall, Maria
               speaks.

                                   MARIA (CONT'D)
                         It's a blackcard and bad card, but
                         not the card of the cat -— not the
                         card of four—footed things.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         I saw Teresa. Maybe I was the last
                         to see her except perhaps her
                         Mamacita and her little brother. I
                         was going past --

                                   MARIA
                             (still dealing) )
                         They buried Teresa today and they
                         were hunting the leopard again --
                         out in the country this time. But
                         they didn't get him.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         They're fools. Why don't they let
                         Charlie How-Come hunt it alone.
                         He's an Indian.

                                   MARIA
                         All men are fools. They like to
                         make a big show -— shout and hunt --

               She is about to deal the last card, when she stops and looks
               at it, then sweeps up the deck without dealing the remaining
               card.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         The bad card again?

               Maria nods.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         What did they say before the bad
                         card came up?

                                   MARIA
                         You'll meet a rich man and he will
                         give, you money.

                                   CLO-CLO
                             (disdainfully)
                         You and your cards. Meet a rich
                         man! I look for them with money.
                         What rich man hasn't money. And for
                         what was I born if it wasn't for
                         money? You're not telling me
                         anything.

                                   MARIA
                             (with a shrug)
                         Watch and see, A day or a week -
                         but certainly this month -- you
                         will have money from a man and then-

                                   CLO—CLO
                             (sharply)
                         And then what?

                                   MARIA
                         I will have to read the cards
                         again. There was a mistake.

                                   CLO-CLO
                             (shooing her out)
                         You and your mistakes. Get out!
                         I've got to dress for the supper,
                         show and I don't want you to put
                         the evil eye on me. Vamoose!

               Maria unhurriedly snuffs out her cigarette, pockets her cards
               and starts for the door. As she opens the door, we see Jerry
               Manning going past, dressed in slacks and sports shirt,
               carrying his coat over his arm. He is dusty and tired. Clo
               Clo looks after him with a malicious grin.

               INT. DRESSING ROOM DOORS - NIGHT

               SHOT of Jerry as he knocks at Kiki's door.

                                   JERRY
                         Are you decent?

               From inside we hear Kiki's voice.

                                   KIKI'S VOICE
                         Yes. Come in.

               He opens the door. We can see she is seated in the armchair
               and has a magazine in her hand which she has been reading.
               She is dressed in street clothes.

                                   KIKI
                         Well, does everybody love us now?
                         You've been gone long enough to
                         soft—soap twenty editors!

                                   JERRY
                             (without particular
                              conviction)
                         Yeah.

                                   KIKI
                             (drawling)
                         And did you find the leopard?

               Jerry realizes that Kiki is onto him. He gives her a look as
               if to say, "So you knew." He bends down and starts brushing
               at his trousers.

                                   KIKI
                         It must be the altitude —— you,
                         bucking around the countryside with
                         a lot of boot—and—saddle boys --

                                   JERRY
                             (trying to explain)
                         The whole town's in a state, Kiki
                         ——doors locked, people huddling
                         together like scared sheep ——nobody
                         on the streets at night ——

                                   KIKI
                             (bitterly)
                         Our first real break -- and we
                         throw wild animals at the audience

                                   JERRY
                         Forget it. I'm buying a drink for a
                         fellow who was on the posse with
                         me, a nice guy. Come along he'll
                         get a great kick out of meeting
                         you.

               Kiki picks up her hat from the dressing table and goes toward
               the door slowly. Jerry finishes brushing his clothes.

                                   KIKI
                         Who is he?

                                   JERRY
                         You remember the fellow this
                         morning -- Galbraith. You've got
                         time before the supper show.

               Kiki joins him in the doorway and they start down the
               corridor.

               INT. EL PUEBLO CAFE - NIGHT

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Eloise coming toward camera. She is in
               professional costume, and passes slowly along the front of
               the bar. She is smiling and opening a package of cigarettes.

                                   JERRY'S VOICE
                             (evidently at end of long
                              recital)
                         ..And it was sand, sand every foot
                         of the way --

               Eloise turns and the CAMERA TURNS WITH her. She stops at a
               small table where Jerry, Kiki and Galbraith are seated. She
               hands the package of cigarettes to Jerry. (Note: Kiki is
               wearing her hat in this scene)

                                   JERRY
                             (finishing and paying for
                              cigarettes)
                         ——	As long as my feet held out.

                                   KIKI
                         And not a sign of the leopard?

               Galbraith shakes his head, Jerry smiles his thanks to Eloise.
               She goes on out of scene.

                                   KIKI
                         Jerry told me you were an expert
                         with animals, Mr. Galbraith.
                         Couldn't you tell where it went?

                                   GALBRAITH
                         To know where that leopard went - —
                         I'm afraid you'd have to be a
                         leopard and think like a leopard. I
                         was a naturalist. That hardly
                         qualifies me as an expert in
                         hunting down lost leopards. I used
                         to teach zoology in a little
                         fresh—water college back East. I
                         gave that up.

               Kiki is just normally curious, not conscious that she is
               prying.

                                   KIKI
                         What do you do now?

                                   GALBRAITH
                         There's a little museum here in
                         town. They've hired me to run it,
                         We've some interesting exhibits of
                         Indian arts and crafts. It's fun --
                         and I like living here in New
                         Mexico.

               	

                                   KIKI
                         Why did you give up teaching?

                                   GALBRAITH
                             (after a little pause)
                         Various reasons.
                             (switching the
                              conversation)
                         But I can't see why you'd be
                         interested in the rather dusty
                         career of William Galbraith —
                         teacher, naturalist, curator --
                         when you lead such a gay and
                         exciting life yourself.

                                   JERRY
                             (wryly)
                         Show business?

                                   GALBRAITH
                         Yes. It's always fascinated me.
                             (confidentially)
                         You know, once, when I was a
                         youngster, I went to see Mrs.
                         Leslie Carter in "Zaza." After the
                         play I stood in the alley just to
                         watch her come out.

               Both the younger people laugh at his unabashed simplicity.

                                   GALBRAITH
                             (to Kiki)
                         So you see meeting you is a real
                         thrill for me.

                                   KIKI
                         Well, I'm hardly Mrs. Leslie Carter
                         —whoever she was. In fact, I'm not
                         even much of a success around here 
                         particularly after the backfire on
                         Jerry's little publicity stunt with
                         the leopard.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         That was unfortunate.

                                   KIKI
                             (with a hard look at
                              Jerry)
                         That was a calamity!

               She nods her head toward the main door.

                                   KIKI
                         Look!

               MED. LONG SHOT including the table and the door beyond.
               Through this doorway Clo-Clo emerges in her costume. She
               enters with the proud step of a reigning favorite. There is a
               light spatter of applause from the bar and the tables on the
               porch. Clo—Clo, taking the castanets from her bosom, begins
               walking toward the dancing space. Passing the table where
               Kiki, Jerry and Galbraith sit, she grins broadly end
               maliciously. Leaning slightly toward them she makes a
               derisive sound on her castanets, then stalks on. They follow
               her with their eyes as she starts down the steps. From the
               audience in the main portion of El Pueblo cafe comes the
               sound of brisk applause and Clo—Clo's answering hail on the
               castanets. Her dance music begins. Kiki starts getting up.
               The two men rise with her.

                                   KIKI
                             (she rises)
                         Well, I'm next. You won't hear
                         anything like that, Mr. Galbraith.
                             (gesturing toward
                              applause)
                         I'm not a popular favorite since I
                         let the leopard loose.

                                   GALBRAITH
                             (with heavy gallantry)
                         I'm sure if you are as talented as
                         you are charming, Miss Walker, you
                         have nothing to worry about.

                                   KIKI
                             (moving off)
                         Thanks.

               Galbraith starts to knock out his pipe on the heel of his
               hand.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         Well, I'd best be off.

                                   JERRY
                             (putting a restraining
                              hand on his forearm)
                         I want to ask you something.

               Galbraith looks at him questioningly.

                                   JERRY 
                         It's about the leopard.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         You're worrying about its killing
                         someone else?

                                   JERRY
                         Yes. I want to go out and patrol
                         the town - be everywhere at once -
                         be sure nothing happens to anybody.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         Of course. It's the way any decent
                         man would feel in your position.

                                   JERRY
                         You know about animals -- their
                         habits -- will it come back?

                                   GALBRAITH
                         No. I'm quite sure.

               Jerry gives a little sigh of relief.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         There is no danger at all. It's a
                         wild animal. Do you think a wild
                         animal prefers walls, streets and
                         people when it can get into open
                         country?

                                   JERRY
                             (terribly anxious to be
                              convinced)
                         That's right, of course.

                                   GALBRAITH
                             (starting toward the
                              steps)
                         Don't feel so concerned, Jerry.

               As they descend the stops together, the CAMERA HAVING PANNED
               LEFT to stay with them, now DOLLIES BEFORE them as they go
               down the path, toward the fountain. They come abreast of the
               fountain and Galbraith pauses a moment.

                                   GALBRAITH
                         I've seen a bit of life, and I have
                         learned one thing. We are like that
                         ball dancing on the fountain. We
                         know as little about the forces
                         that move us and move the world
                         around us as that empty ball, which
                         lives only because the water pushes
                         it into the air, lets it fall and
                         catches it again. You shouldn't
                         feel too badly about Teresa
                         Delgado.

               CLOSE SHOT - the fountain. We see the ball rising and falling
               — oscillating in its movement.

               Clo-Clo is dancing, and although we can not see her, we can
               hear the click of her castanets, the quick, hard tread of her
               feet. We catch an occasional glimpse of her shadow, as she
               passes in dancing on the other side of the fountain.

                                                       DISSOLVE

               INT  EL PUEBLO CAFE - EARLY MORNING

               CLOSE SHOT of the fountain. The jet of water has been turned
               off and the ball floats quietly on the surface of the
               innermost basin.

               MED. LONG SHOT of Clo-Clo, as she makes her way to the gate.
               She is dressed in street clothes. Bus boys are busy piling
               chairs onto the tables while two young maids are hosing down
               the tiles. Cigarette butts, bits of paper and ether odds and
               ends of the night's trade litter the cafe and go swishing
               ahead of the streams of water.

               Clo-Clo smiles to one of the young maids as she passes.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         A long night, Chiquita.

                                   MAID
                             (straightening up and
                              shutting down the hose
                              with her thumb)
                         How long can a night be, Clo-Clo,
                         when you spend it dancing?

                                   CLO-CLO
                             (passing by)
                         Twice as long as a day with your
                         mop and pail.

               The girl laughs and lets the water of the hose spray out
               again. Clo-Clo goes on, out of the gate.

                                                       DISSOLVE

               EXT. THE STREET - EARLY MORNING

               TRUCKING SHOT of Clo-Clo as she walks wearily down the
               deserted street. She is smoking a cigarette.
               Swinging from one hand is the little ornamented chamois bag
               in which she keeps her castanets. She comes to the flower
               store, sees that it is open and, throwing her cigarette away,
               starts in.

               INT  FLOWER STORE - EARLY MORNING

               MED. SHOT - Rosita, Senora Contreras' maid, has selected a
               bouquet of long stemmed roses from a large tin bucket. As she
               holds them aloft the flower vender, a chubby good-natured
               little Mexican in his late fifties, gently wraps a piece of
               newspaper around the wet stems.

                                   FLOWER VENDOR
                             (indicating the stems)
                         Roses are like children -— some
                         have short legs and some long.

               The flower vendor laughs loudly, his body vibrating. Rosita
               sees no humor in this remark and taking a coin from her
               pocket, hands it to him. Still chuckling, the vendor moves to
               his cash drawer, to make change. In the b.g., Clo-Clo can be
               seen entering the store. She tiptoes forward directly behind
               the flower vendor and ignoring Rosita completely, snatches a
               wilted gardenia from a tin. The flower vendor has caught this
               action in the mirror and whirling, pulls the gardenia out of
               her hand,and at the same time turns back to the cash drawer.
               Clo—Clo isn't at all abashed by the vendor's action.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         You can't sell it - it's a day old.

                                   VENDOR
                         But my stomach isn't a day old. If
                         I don't sell flowers -- I don't eat
                         -— and I love to eat.

               Clo-Clo tries a new approach. Coyly she winks at him.

                                   CLO-CLO
                         I'll tell everybody you gave it to
                         me, -- that will be good for your
                         business.

                                   VENDOR
                         Yes, -- but bad for my wife.

               The vendor drops the change into Rosita's hand, then turning
               on Clo-Clo, shoes her off with a motion.

               ANOTHER ANGLE — taking in Rosita at edge of stall. She looks
               off at Clo-Clo and with a grand gesture, pulls a long stemmed
               rose from the bouquet.

                                   ROSITA
                         My mistress, Consuelo Contreras,
                         does not have to beg for flowers.
                         She won't miss one.

               Rosita flings a rose to Clo-Clo. Clo-Clo catches it. With a
               snap she breaks the stem and thrusts the rose into her hair.

                                   CLO-CLO
                             (impudently)
                         Thank the Senorita for me.

               EXT  STREET - EARLY MORNING

               MED. LONG SHOT. The CAMERA PANS WITH Rosita as she hurriedly
               crosses the street and mounting the opposite sidewalk, enters
               the Contreras' home.

               INT. ENTRANCE HALL CONTRERAS' HOME - EARLY MORNING

               It is a cool, shadowy square room. At the back is a stairway.
               The floor is tiled. Through an arched grilled doorway, we can
               see the living room beyond. The front door opens and Rosita
               steps in hurriedly, her heels clicking on the tile floor.
               Three people are standing waiting. They are Senora Contreras,
               Cousin Felipe and Marta, an old servant who is more companion
               than maid in the household by this time. Marta is dressed all
               in black -— dress, shoes and apron. Her grey hair is dragged
               back to a knot. She wears tiny gold loops in her pierced ears
               and a gold cross at the fastening of her high collar. Senora
               Contreras, a dignified, imposing woman with the remnants of
               great beauty still apparent in her expressive eyes and lovely
               hair, is dressed in a flowing lacy negligee. In her arms she
               carries a little Chihuahua dog. Cousin Felipe is a dapper
               little cat of a man, meticulously dressed in the proper
               apparel of thirty years ago. The Senora and Cousin Felipe are
               waiting on the stairs. Marta is in the hail.

                                   MARTA
                             (crossly)
                         Shhh!

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                             (softening the rebuke,
                              whispering)
                         It will spoil the birthday song,
                         Rosita, if we wake her too soon.

               Rosita nods contritely. Walking with exaggerated care, she
               joins them and they all start up the stairs.

               The CAMERA FOLLOWS them as they go upstairs.

               INT. UPPER HALLWAY - EARLY MORNING

               SHOT of Senora Contreras, Marta and Rosita as they come up to
               the landing and start on tiptoe toward a door. The Senora
               Contreras puts her hand on the knob softly. Cousin Felipe
               pulls a single rose from Rosita's armful. Marta sees him -
               she glares but says nothing.

               INT. CONSUELO'S BEDROOM - EARLY MORNING

               Although the curtains of the room are drawn, the softly
               filtered daylight shows this to be a room of delicacy and
               lightness. The simplicity of the white walls, the sheer
               curtains hanging across the barred, embrasured windows, the
               lovely lace coverlet and the pretty young-girl trinkets on
               the dressing table give the room an air of lightness.

               As the door swings inward, the sunlight fills the room. Then
               we see, lying in the bed, serenely asleep, Consuelo
               Contreras. This is her eighteenth birthday.

               Senora Contreras walks to the foot of the bed and stands
               looking down at her daughter. She smiles sadly. In still,
               untroubled sleep, the full vulnerability of Consuelo's youth
               is touchingly apparent.

               Marta stands to one side, a little behind Senora Contreras.
               Cousin Felipe remains in the background, near the open door.
               Rosita tiptoes cautiously to the head of the bed and
               carefully puts down the roses, so that the blossoms lie in
               the curve of Consuelo's outflung arm. She has to drop on one
               knee to do this and she stays in this position, slowly
               drawing her hands away from the flowers. They start singing
               "Las Mananitas" the traditional birthday song of Mexico --
               singing very softly at first.

               Consuelo stirs slightly and then opens her eyes. Lying as she
               does, the first thing she sees are the roses, lying beside
               her.

               She lifts her eyes from the roses to see Rosita's eager
               smiling face, almost on a level with her own. Rosita's smile
               broadens but she goes on singing dutifully.

               Still bemused, but beginning to smile faintly herself,
               Consuelo looks beyond Rosita and sees Cousin Felipe standing
               back by the door. Very much the gallant, he touches his
               stolen rose to his lips and tosses it to Consuelo.

               Consuelo continues her survey of the room and turns her eyes
               to the foot of the bed.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (happily and lovingly)
                         Madrecita!

               Senora Contreras nods slowly, but continues to sing with the
               others as they go into the chorus.

               Consuelo starts to sit up, pulling the roses to her.

               Rosita gets up, too, and props the pillows behind her young
               mistress. Senora Contreras comes around the bed and sits on
               the edge of it as the song finishes.

                                   ROSITA
                         Good morning on your birthday,
                         Senorita Consuelo --

               Marta goes to one of the windows and motions Rosita to the
               other.

                                   MARTA
                         It is a good morning, nina -- see
                         how the sun is shining for you - -

               Marta draws back the curtains and the room, already light,
               seems to grow even lighter. Senora Contreras leans forward
               and kisses Consuelo's forehead.

                                   CONSUELO
                         What a lovely way to wake up!

               She looks from the bouquet of roses to the single rose that
               Cousin Felipe threw onto the bed. She picks it up and holds
               it to her face.

                                   CONSUELO
                         It is so beautiful, Cousin Felipe.
                         Thank you for buying it!

               At Consuelo's first words, Cousin Felipe begins to beam. But
               he glances across the room and encounters Marts's grin,
               sardonic glance just as Consuelo says "How carefully you must
               have picked it out!" Abashed, he murmurs something
               unintelligible and quietly slips out of the room.

               At the window, Rosita has been standing with her back to
               Marta, staring fixedly at Consuelo to attract her attention.
               She makes a little notion with her hands now and Consuelo
               glances at her. Smiling secretively, Rosita draws a white
               envelope part way out of her apron pocket, just enough to let
               Consuelo see what it is. Then she hastily puts it out of
               sight again. There is a sudden light in Consuelo's eyes. She
               is transfigured with a really exultant happiness.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                             (amused)
                         Had you forgotten that it was your
                         birthday? I believe you had --

               Consuelo gives a helpless little laugh of delight, throws her
               arms around her mother end puts her head down against her
               mother's shoulder.

                                   CONSUELO
                         I'm so happy -- so happy!

               Senora Contreras pats the girl's head fondly. Marta, leaving
               the room, smiles at mother and daughter.

                                   MARTA
                             (turning at the door)
                         Rosita!

               Rosita slowly walks away from the window and toward the door,
               But as soon as Marta has gone out of the door, she stops at
               the dressing table on the pretext of dusting the bottles with
               her apron.

               Senora Contreras rises, with difficulty, and also goes to the
               door.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Hurry now, my sweet, or we will be
                         late for mass.

               As Senora Contreras leaves the room, Rosita whirls around
               from the dressing table.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (excitedly)
                         Quick! Give it to me!

               Rosita hands Consuelo the letter, Consuelo tears it open and
               reads the few lines. From her expression, one sees that even
               the handwriting of her beloved fills her with happiness.

                                   CONSUELO
                         He will be waiting...

                                   ROSITA
                             (eager to help)
                         You must say that you went to take
                         some of the roses to your father's
                         grave...

                                   CONSUELO
                             (reading the note again)
                         At four. He will be there at four.

               She goes to the window and looks out.

               CLOSE SHOT of Consuelo at window.	Beyond her we see the sun
               dial on the wall.	It is seven o'clock and the shadows lie
               thick and heavy in the morning quadrant.

                                   CONSUELO
                         The time will never pass.

                                                       DISSOLVE

               INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

               At a French window in the living room downstairs, Consuelo is
               pulling aside the heavy lace curtains and looking out. Beyond
               her we see the big sun dial and the shadows lie heavy in the
               afternoon quadrant. It is nearly 5:00. She drops the curtain
               and turns back into the room.

               MED. LONG SHOT - living room. Senora Contreras is half
               reclining in a chaise lounge. Consuelo is sitting on a petit
               point footstool beside the chaise lounge. Both of them have
               embroidery frames in their hands. They are working on very
               fine, sheer pillow cases,

                                   CONSUELO
                             (nervously)
                         It seems to be getting darker in
                         here.

               Senora Contreras glances over at the bright sunlight in the
               windows.

                                   CONSUELO
                         Aren't you afraid you will have a
                         headache from working so long,
                         Mama?

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         If we don't work on these a little
                         each day, they will never be done -
                         and you will be a poor bride.

               Consuelo looks at her mother curiously and a little
               apprehensively. Senora Contreras smiles but does not reply. A
               clock on the mantel strikes five in tiny bell tones. Consuelo
               looks at the clock desperately. Senora Contreras puts down
               her embroidery frame.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         It is late, isn't it? Too late, I'm
                         afraid, for you to go to the
                         cemetery now.

               Consuelo jumps to her feet.

                                   CONSUELO
                         But I must go to the cemetery,
                         Mamas! It's my birthday -- I must!

               Senora Contreras studies the girl's troubled face. She
               reaches out her hand, takes Consuelo's hand and pulls the
               girl to her.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         I did not come into this world a
                         middle—aged widow, mi hijita...

               Consuelo shakes her head in agreement -- but looks puzzled.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Anything you think -- anything you
                         do - - I thought and did before
                         you. And my mother before me...

               Consuelo nods dutifully.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         You are so young. I don't want you
                         to look back on anything lacking in
                         dignity, a few years from now.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (murmuring)
                         No, Mama --

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Naturally, young men will become
                         interested in you. They should come
                         here, to our house. They should be
                         introduced to you by their parents
                         or your Cousin Felipe or some other
                         older relative -—

               Consuelo nods again. She glances uneasily at her mother and
               then her eyes go frantically to the clock. Senora Contreras
               lets go Consuelo's hand and leans back against the chaise
               lounge. She gives a little sigh of defeat.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Very well -- get Rosita and go.

                                   CONSUELO
                         Thank you, Mama -- I'll hurry -
                         I'll be right back!

               Consuelo leans over, kisses her mother hastily and then
               rushes out of the room. Senora Contreras looks at the doorway
               through which Consuelo has passed. She smiles.

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. CEMETERY WALL - DUSK

               TRUCKING SHOT - Consuelo and her maid are walking along the
               wall, quickly. Rosita is carrying the roses in her arm.

                                   ROSITA
                             (importantly)
                         Pedro is waiting for me, too.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (shyly)
                         Rosita —— I have wondered -—

                                   ROSITA
                         What, senorita?

                                   CONSUELO
                         When you are going to see Pedro,
                         does your heart beat until you
                         tremble?

               Rosita shrugs. Consuelo lifts one of the roses to her face.

                                   CONSUELO
                         Once Raoul took my hand and pressed
                         it to his cheek —- so gently, so
                         longingly. Suddenly I was afraid
                         for him -- afraid of everything in
                         the world that might hurt or sadden
                         him. He saw the tears in my eyes --

               Consuelo is silent, her face ecstatic, remembering.

                                   ROSITA
                             (almost sullenly)
                         Love is different for different
                         people.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (slowly — thoughtfully)
                         I suppose so. I suppose it will be
                         different for us, too —— when
                         everyone knows. Then we will be
                         just like other people.
                             (smiles)
                         But these last weeks will always be
                         our secret —— a lovely secret to
                         remember all our lives.

               EXT. GATES OF ALL SAINTS CEMETERY - TWILIGHT

               The light is already dimming when Consuelo and Rosita come up
               to the gates. In front of the ponderous wooden gates, folded
               back like great dark wings, stands the gatekeeper of the
               cemetery. Fe is a very tall, incredibly thin, old man,
               dressed in a tight black alpaca suit. He has built a little
               fire in the gutter and stands warming himself by it. In his
               hands is an unfinished wooden necklace which he is carving.

                                   ROSITA
                             (hurriedly)
                         I will see you back at the house,
                         Senorita...

               Consuelo nods and Rosita hurries away down the street. The
               gatekeeper looks up.

                                   GATEKEEPER
                         You're late today, Senorita.

                                   CONSUELO
                         I have brought my birthday flowers
                         for my father's grave -- it will
                         only take a moment - -

                                   GATEKEEPER
                         Time is strange. A moment can be as
                         short as a breath --or as long as
                         eternity -- don't linger - -

               Consuelo starts through the gates, not paying any attention
               to the old man's words.

                                   GATEKEEPER
                             (calling after Consuelo)
                         The gates are locked at six --

               There is no reply. The old man shrugs his shoulders and
               hunches over his little Lire again.

               EXT. CEMETERY - C0NTRERAS FAMILY PLOT - EVENING

               The headstone of Don Rafael Contreras' grave, white stone,
               with a bronze wreath, is shadowed by the failing light of
               sunset. The headstone reads:
               INSERT	RAFAEL CONTRERAS y GARCIA
               PRAY FOR HIS SOUL

               BACK TO SCENE. Consuelo's flowers lie across the grave.
               Consuelo is half kneeling, half sitting beside the grave.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (low, but speaking
                              perfectly naturally and
                              conversationally)
                         And so you must forgive me, father,
                         for deceiving mother. She will meet
                         Raoul soon -- and everything will
                         be as you would wish. I promise.

               Consuelo rises and crosses to a near-by path. She looks into
               the growing shadows of the cemetery -- then up into the
               trees. Only the tops of them are lighted by the last rays of
               the sunset.

               EXT  PATH LEADING TO BELVEDERE IN CEMETERY - DUSK

               Consuelo hurries along a path, with trees and graves on
               either side.

               EXT  BELVEDERE IN CEMETERY - DUSK

               Just off the path is a little belvedere, a circular hedge
               spaced at intervals by Grecian columns. Inside, a marble
               bench curves half-way around the hedge. Consuelo approaches
               it. Seeing the belvedere empty, she looks puzzled. She steps
               into the belvedere and then turns back and looks into the
               lowering gloom of the cemetery.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (uncertainly)
                         Raoul? ... Raoul...

               Consuelo waits, Her face is filled with disappointment and
               the first faint uneasiness of apprehension as the silence
               continues. She turns back into the belvedere.

               INT  BELVEDERE - NIGHT

               On the ground a number of partly smoked cigarettes have been
               stamped out -— and another lies on the marble bench. Consuelo
               picks it up and looks at it.

               DISSOLVE

               EXT. ENTRANCE OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               From the inside of the cemetery, we see one of the wooden
               gates swinging closed,

               EXT  GATES OF CEMETERY

               The Gatekeeper is laboriously pulling the other gate closed.
               Suddenly, he stops.  He pushes the gate back open a little
               way and, standing in the opening, takes	a whistle from his
               pocket and puts it to his lips. It has a high, thin,
               quavering sound.

               BELVEDERE IN CEMETERY - NIGHT

               Consuelo is seated on the marble bench, her posture dejected,
               lost in thought. In the distance, the whistle sounds faintly.
               She does not stir.

               EXT  GATES OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               The Gatekeeper gives two mere short blasts on the whistle.

               INT  BELVEDERE IN CEMETERY - NIGHT

               Consuelo raises her head as the quavering notes sound in the
               distance. For a moment, she looks puzzled -- then her eyes
               widen in horrified recognition of the sound. She jumps to her
               feet.

               EXT. BELVEDERE IN CEMETERY - NIGHT

               Consuelo steps out of the inclosure. She looks up into the
               tree tops. They are only darkness now, merging with the
               almost complete darkness of the sky above. Consuelo runs down
               the path.

               EXT. GATES OF CEMETERY- NIGHT

               The Gatekeeper stands listening for a moment and then
               continues pulling the gate toward him until it clicks shut
               with the other gate. He drops the whistle into his coat
               pocket and, from the same pocket, pulls out a large key. He
               turns it in the lock of the gate. He turns around and moves
               toward the street and his little gutter fire. His shadow
               moves enormously on the gate.

               EXT  MAIN AVENUE OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               We see Consuelo running down a broad avenue in the cemetery.

               EXT  GATES OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               MED. LONG SHOT of the closed cemetery gates. The Gatekeeper
               has disappeared. The little fire burning away in the empty
               street makes the loneliness of the scene more apparent.

               EXT. ENTRANCE OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               Panting, Consuelo flings herself against the closed gates,
               tugging at the handle.

                                   CONSUELO
                         Let me out! Help —— helps! Let me
                         out of here!

               Looking desperately anxious, Consuelo turns. She looks across
               the cemetery and then starts running back up the main avenue.

               EXT. CROSSROAD OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               At the head of the avenue, several paths fan out in a half
               circle. Consuelo stands looking from one to another. She
               chooses the center oath and runs into the tree—thickened
               darkness

               EXT. PATH BETWEEN BOX HEDGES -- NIGHT

               Consuelo runs at breakneck pace down a path. On either side
               are box hedges taller than she is.

               EXT  FORKED PATH - NIGHT

               The path Consuelo is on splits into two paths. In the V of
               the fork is a single grave and over it hovers a tall shaft of
               marble carved in the likeness of a brooding angel with folded
               wings and bowed head. Consuelo locks about frantically and
               then leans against the base of the statue, gasping for
               breath. Suddenly a wind springs up and the silence is broken
               into a thousand rustles and murmurs as the wind stirs through
               the trees. Consuelo shivers and slowly lifts her head to look
               up toward the tree tops. She looks directly up into the face
               of the statue.

               CLOSEUP of the angel's face is curiously sinister because
               there is light touching its contours.

               Consuelo whirls about to find the source of light. Through
               the wind-stirred branches she sees the great, lop—sided moons
               just rising into the night.
               She stumbles away from the statue and down the right—hand
               path, walking a few steps, then running a few steps, trying
               to force herself to rush on.

               Consuelo stands looking down into the old burial ground, a
               depression filled with weed-grown graves and ancient wooden
               headstones, either crazily askew or down entirely. It is
               entirely surrounded by the tall trees of the cemetery —— and
               the moonlight seems to fill the place with mist. Consuelo
               starts down the slope.

               EXT. OLD BURIAL GROUND IN CEMETERY - NIGHT

               There are no paths here. The weeds grow solidly across the
               ground — except where a grave, here and there, has fallen In
               and its earth is broken into clods. Consuelo stumbles about
               aimlessly. As she crosses one of the mounds, her foot strikes
               a fallen wooden marker. It is rotten and the green light of
               phosphorescene flashes across it,

               EXT. PATH LEADING TO WALL IN CEMETERY - NIGHT

               Moving again between tall trees, Consuelo moves on, no longer
               able to run. But when she sees a whiteness between the trees
               ahead of her, she does spur herself forward more rapidly.

               EXT. WALL OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               Consuelo flings herself against the wall, her face alight
               with hope.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (calling loudly)
                         Help! Help! Help!

               There is silence. Slowly, keeping her hands pressed against
               the wall and moving sideways, Consuelo goes alongside the
               wall until she comes to a tree growing very close to the
               wall. In fact, one massive bough extends out over the wall
               and Consuelo looks up at it hopefully.  Then her expression
               changes — becomes tense.

               CLOSE SHOT of Consuelo.  Her eyes are wide and frightened.
               From the other side of the wall comes a sound — a light,
               scratching sound, exactly the same sound as that heard by
               Teresa Delgado in her first trip through the underpass
               tunnel. Listening intensely, Consuelo turns her head until
               her ear is pressed against the wall. Now, we hear the sound
               more distinctly — as she is hearing it — but it is still a
               light, feathery sound. Then, suddenly, it ceases. And as
               Consuelo strains to hear it again, there is the sharp, hollow
               clap of a car door carelessly flung shut just outside the
               wall. It is followed by the grind of a car starter. Consuelo
               jumps up.

                                   CONSUELO
                         Wait —— wait!

               The car motor starts. Pressing herself against the wall,
               Consuelo screams again and again. Finally, as the unseen car
               starts to slip away, the roar of its motor subsides and at
               that moment Consuelo's scream sounds clearly. Brakes rasp.

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Hello -— who's that?

               Consuelo is breathing in such convulsive gasps that she
               cannot emit any sound for a moment.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (weakly)
                         Here! I'm in here behind the wall!

               There is the sound of a car door being opened, and then
               footsteps beyond the wall.

                                   CONSUELO
                         I've been locked in. Please get me
                         out -—

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Now, don't get panicky. I'll climb
                         over and get you --

               Pressed tightly against the wall, Consuelo listens. She hears
               running footsteps and then the thud of someone jumping up at
               the wall, trying to get over it with a running start. Once,
               twice.

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         I can't make it. You wait there and
                         I'll get someone to lend me a
                         ladder - -

               There is the sound of the car door banging shut again.

                                   CONSUELO
                             (frantically)
                         No, don't leave me! Don't go away — 

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         But you're all right now. It's just
                         a matter of a few minutes!

                                   CONSUELO
                         You won't forget —— you'll come
                         back?

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Stay just where you are...

               The roar of the motor fills the scene again. Then it is quiet

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Be back before you know it.

               There is the sound of the car drawing away. The sound of it
               lessens, fades — is swallowed in renewed silence. Consuelo
               stands against the wall, motionless. She turns fearfully, so
               that her back is to the wall, and peers into the shadows.
               Suddenly she stiffens.

               CLOSE SHOT of Consuelo. Her eyes widen. She turns her head so
               that her ear is close to the wall. And again we hear the
               curious scratching sound, and with it, another sound —-- a
               soft, living, breathing sound, as of animal nostrils
               snuffling along the wall, searching the scent of prey. There
               is a brief silence, and then Consuelo's head snaps up as we
               hear a soft padding sound near the top of the wall. She sees
               only the moon, just visible in the space between the tree
               bough and the top of the wall. There is nothing to be seen ——
               but a rustling sound comes from the top of the wall.
               Consuelo's eyes are motionless, fixed on the bough overhead.
               Very gradually, the great bough lowers, blotting the moon
               from view. Consuelo presses her back against the wall, as if
               she would push herself into it, escape through it. Her head,
               thrown back, is motionless — her eyes watching the ominous
               movement of the great bough, are motionless. And as she
               stares, a spasm of terror contorts her face. The bough
               suddenly springs back and the moon can be seen for one
               instant. During that instant we hear simultaneously a low,
               horrible snarl and a scream. Both are cut off as the whole
               scene blacks out.

                                                       FADE OUT

               FADE IN

               EXT. CEMETERY WALL - DAY

               A HIGH ANGLE SHOT through the branches of a great tree
               overhanging the wall shows a scene of sad activity.
               Consuelo's body, covered with a light canvas sheet, lies the
               at the foot of the tree.  Five ladders, three against the
               outside wall, two against the inside wall, form a curious
               pattern of bars and stripes in the clean morning sunlight. 
               Uniformed policemen and plain—clothesmen bustle about. One of
               them is making a moulage of footprints, his little working
               space roped off with twine and stakes  Others are examining
               the tree.
               Two policemen, one uniformed, stand at the side and between
               them stands a young man dazed and broken, almost hanging in
               the grip of the officers. He is sobbing. This is Raoul
               Belmonte. Suddenly he screams out hysterically.

                                   BELMONTE
                         Why? Why? Why?

               The policemen gently shake him into silence.

               Robles, followed by Galbraith and Jerry come up over the
               ladders. Robles climbs down the inside ladder as does
               Galbraith, but Jerry, being younger, leaps down.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT — SHOOTING TOWARD the wall.

                                   BELMONTE
                             (crying out)
                         Why?

               Robles looks over questioningly. The uniformed policeman, a
               Mexican, answers.

                                   POLICEMAN
                         El novio.

                                   PLAIN- CLOTHESMAN
                             (almost simultaneously)
                         The boy friend.

                                   ROBLES
                             (not unkindly)
                         Shut that man up. Take him out of
                         here or give him something to keep
                         him quiet.

               As the two officers lead Belmonte away, Jerry looks after him
               - his face deeply troubled. The three men then turn toward
               the shrouded body. A police officer, an American with a
               lieutenant's bars an his shoulders, stands at the head of the
               corpse. He bends down, lifts up the canvas, and Robles and
               Jerry peer under for a br