Mrbrooks
Mr. Brooks

Writers: Bruce A Evans, Raynold Gideon

Genres: Crime, Drama, Thriller

 

                      MR BROOKS




                      Written by


           Bruce A Evans & Raynold Gideon






FADE IN:

CLOSE on a Polaroid of a dimly lit COUPLE locked in a sexual
embrace. We cannot see their faces.

                     MR. BROOKS (V.O.)
               (tortured)
           God grant me the Serenity to accept
           the things I cannot change...

Our view travels sensuously down the Woman's naked torso to
find the Man's head buried between her legs.

                     MARSHALL (V.O.)
           Why do you fight it so hard, Earl?


                     MR. BROOKS (V.O.)
           Courage to change the things I
           can...

                     MARSHALL (V.O.)
           Come on, you've been a good boy for
           a long time, you deserve a little
           fun.

Our view moves back up to the Woman's breasts.

                                            DISSOLVE THROUGH
                                            THIS TO:

EARL BROOKS' reflection in a mirror. Earl, in his 40's, has
on a tuxedo. He's in front of a sink in a Public Bathroom and
he's whispering to his image.

                     MR. BROOKS
           ... and Wisdom to know the
           difference.

Picking up speed against the hunger in his head:


                     MR. BROOKS (CONT'D)
           Living one day at a time, Enjoying
           one moment at a time, Accepting
           hardship as a pathway to peace...

From far away comes the sound of applause.

INT. BALLROOM - NIGHT

MEN in tuxedos and WOMEN in gowns.

Mr. Brooks is seated at one of the front tables with his
wife, EMMA, also 40's.


                                                     (CONTINUED)

                                                         2.
CONTINUED:


The audience's hands are coming together for what a MAN at
the microphone has just said.

Mr. Brooks is smiling but not clapping; and although his lips
don't move we can hear:

                       MR. BROOKS (V.O.)

                 (even faster now)
             ... Taking, as He did, this sinful
             world as it is, not as I would have
             it. Trusting that He will make all
             things right if I surrender to His
             will. That I may be reasonably
             happy in this life, And supremely
             happy with Him forever in the next.
             Amen.

The Man at the microphone raises his arms to quiet the
Audience.

                       MAN
             I could go on and on about what a
             great guy Earl is, how he cuts his
             toe nails...

Everyone laughs.

                       MAN
             ... how he gives freely of his time
             and money, but let's get Earl up
             here to speak for himself. Ladies
             and Gentlemen, I give you a
             businessman, a philanthropist, a
             great friend and the Evanston
             Chamber of Commerce Man of the
             Year... Mr. Earl Brooks.

Mr. Brooks kisses Emma, stands and after accepting
congratulations along the way, arrives at the podium.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Thank you all very much. The first
             thing I would like to say is... I
             don't even know how I cut my toe
             nails.

Applause and laughter from the Audience.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Twenty years ago when I started the
             Brooks Box Factory I never dreamed
             I would one day be standing here.


                                                            3.



EXT. STREET - NIGHT

A silver Lexus LS 430 glides past us.

                    EMMA (V.O.)
          Did you see Sis Wallace's dress?

INT. LEXUS Ñ NIGHT

Mr. Brooks is driving. Emma is in the passenger seat. They're
holding hands.

                    EMMA

          You could see her nipples. At her
          age she should keep those things
          hidden.

Mr. Brooks is only listening to his Wife with one ear and
underneath what she is saying we can barely hear:

                    MR. BROOKS (V.O.)
          God grant me the Serenity to
          accept...

                    EMMA
          The only thing that would have made
          this evening more perfect is if
          Jane had been here.

                     MR. BROOKS
          She called. She has mid terms
          coming up.

                    EMMA
          She's dropping out, you know.


                       MR. BROOKS
          We'll see.

                    EMMA
          Nothing she does is wrong to you,
          is it?...

Mr. Brooks doesn't rise to the bait.

                    EMMA
          Well she missed a good party...

As she continues, we look at Mr. Brooks and Emma's voice
fades to a murmur.




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                         4.

CONTINUED:


In the back seat, a Man leans out from behind Mr. Brooks's
head. This is MARSHALL. He's 50 plus.

Emma can neither see nor hear him. Marshall exists only in
Mr. Brooks's mind.

                       MARSHALL
             Come on, Earl, give yourself a
             break, you know you want to do
             this.

                        MR. BROOKS
             No.

                       MARSHALL
             You're the fucking 'man of the
             year', you deserve it. It's not
             like it's not set up. You already
             know how to by-pass the alarm, you
             know how to pick the locks.
             Tonight's the perfect night.

                       MR. BROOKS

                 (over his shoulder)
             No, Marshall, I said 'no'!

                        MARSHALL
             I heard you, Earl, but you don't
             mean 'no'.

Emma feels Mr. Brooks's distance.

                       EMMA
             What's the matter?

Mr. Brooks pulls himself back into the moment.

                        MR. BROOKS
             Nothing.

                       EMMA
             You were frowning.


                       MR. BROOKS
             I was thinking of what I didn't say
             in the speech.

                       EMMA
             They laughed, they were touched, I
             don't think anyone felt left out.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                         5.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    MARSHALL

              (from the back seat)
          They have their dance class
          tonight. What if we go by and just
          look at them. There's no harm in
          just having a look.

                    MR. BROOKS
          No means 'no', Marshall.

                    MARSHALL
          Please... pretty please.

                    MR. BROOKS
              (to Emma)
          The food tonight was very good, but
          I wasn't crazy about the dessert.
          Would you like to stop somewhere
          and get something sweet?

INT. ICE CREAM PARLOR Ñ NIGHT

In a booth, Mr. Brooks and Emma are sharing a Sundae. Mr.
Brooks steals a look at the Arthur Murray dance class that is
taking place behind the full-length windows fronting the
second floor of the Building across the street.


                    EMMA
          ... Labradors are supposed to be
          nice, or maybe a rescue mutt...

                    MR. BROOKS
          The Pound's a pretty sad place; if
          you want me to, I'll go with you.

                    EMMA
          There's an Irish Lab I read about,
          and I think the breeder is...

Mr. Brooks turns his attention back to the Dancers and again
Emma's voice fades to a murmur.

Both Mr. Brooks and Marshall who is seated on the other side
of Emma are focused on one particular COUPLE.

The Man and Woman are not great dancers nor are they
especially attractive, but Mr. Brooks and Marshall are
fascinated with them.

Marshall leans forward and looking slyly around Emma at Mr.
Brooks:



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                          6.

CONTINUED:


                       MARSHALL
             I bet your dick's getting hard,
             isn't it, just imagining what they
             would look like dead?

Savoring the ice-cream, Mr. Brooks nods.

EXT. BROOKS HOUSE Ñ NIGHT

Two story modern. Not ostentatious, but the elegance of the
line and the grounds say there's big money here.

INT. MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Through the door of the DRESSING AREA, Emma can be seen
taking off her evening clothes.

Hidden by the darkness on the other side of the bed, Mr.
Brooks is hunched forward on a chair, his head in his hands.
His bow tie is undone, but he's still wearing his Tuxedo. In
obvious torment, he is whispering to himself.

                       MR. BROOKS
             ... I can't do this, I can't do
             this, I can't do this, please don't
             let me do this, God grant me the
             Serenity to accept the things I
             cannot change...

In the DRESSING AREA

Emma is putting on her sleep-wear. Mr. Brooks steps into the
doorway.


                       MR. BROOKS
             I'm going to stay up a while, maybe
             go to the studio and play with some
             glazes.

                       EMMA
             Okay, I'm going to read. If I'm not
             awake, wake me when you come back.

Mr. Brooks comes forward, puts his arms around Emma and hugs
her, then easing back, kisses her.

                       MR. BROOKS
             I thought you were wonderful
             tonight.

                                                           7.


EXT. THE BROOKS HOUSE Ñ NIGHT

Mr. Brooks exits the back door and starts down a path that
leads away from the house.

                    MR. BROOKS
              (to himself)
          Don't do this, don't do this,
          please don't do this, don't do
          this, don't do, please don't do
          this...

He passes through a screen of trees and arrives at a small
beautiful industrial-looking Building.

No windows except for a narrow strip on three sides just
under the edge of the roof.

Mr. Brooks lets himself in with a key.

INT. BUILDING Ñ NIGHT

Exquisitely unique handmade handglazed bowls, vases, cups,
plates are scattered haphazardly on shelves and tables around
the room.

This is Mr. Brooks's CERAMICS STUDIO.

Mr. Brooks turns on the big industrial kiln and sets the
temperature, then in a series of quick cuts changes out of
his tuxedo into his work clothes which he selects from a
dozen identical pairs of khaki shirts and pants hanging in a
closet.

Below the pants and shirts are a dozen pairs of identical
leather work shoes. The windbreaker he puts on is also from a
dozen identical windbreakers.

He takes a set of car keys off a hook next to a door which
opens into a garage. Under the light is an older model non-
descript Toyota.

EXT. CERAMICS STUDIO Ñ NIGHT

The Toyota backs into an alley and with the garage door
closing behind it, pulls away.

INT. TOYOTA Ñ NIGHT

Marshall is up front with Mr. Brooks.





                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                            8.
CONTINUED:


                       MARSHALL
             Oh Lordy, Earl my boy, I've missed
             this! We are going to have so much
             fun!

                       MR. BROOKS
             This is the last time, Marshall.
             Understand me?! The very last time!

EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET Ñ NIGHT


A mixture of modest houses and apartment buildings. Mr.
Brooks's Toyota is parked in the semi-dark cast by a tree.

We rise over the car, over the trees, over the houses to the
other side of the block and come down to find Mr. Brooks
working the lock on the side door of a small BUNGALOW.

He has on surgical gloves.

The pick is extracted, the handle turned. The door opens.
There's a chain.

Mr. Brooks removes a pair of bent rubber tipped forceps from
a pocket, inserts it in the chain, pulls the door to, gives
the tool a twist and gently pushes the door inward.

The chain has been released.

INT. BUNGALOW Ñ NIGHT

Mr. Brooks quietly closes the door and holding his breath
stands very still and listens.

There's a faint indistinct sound coming from the recesses of
the house.

Mr. Brooks's feet glide out of the PANTRY. Now coming
slightly behind him is another pair of legs encased in dark
slacks.

Move up; the person in the black slacks is Marshall.

In the middle of the KITCHEN, the sound is now recognizable.
It's the moans of a Couple fucking. This disturbs Mr. Brooks,
he hesitates.

Marshall leans in and hisses fiercely in his ear.




                                                    (CONTINUED)

                                                            9.
CONTINUED:


                       MARSHALL
             Don't you dare quit on me, you
             piece of shit. I want to see what
             they're doing.

Mr. Brooks's spine stiffens and he's going forward again.

Entering a HALLWAY, he reaches into his jacket. When his hand
reappears it's inside a Ziplock bag, his fingers around the
butt of a silenced pistol.

He brings the hand and bag to his mouth and tightens the
Ziplock against his wrist.

The two Men arrive at a door that's slightly ajar. Behind it
the sounds of the love-making are becoming more intense.

Mr. Brooks nudges the door with his foot. It opens enough for
he and Marshall to see the Couple inside.

The Man and Woman from the Arthur Murray dance class are
naked on the bed.

As much as Mr. Brooks hates himself for it he loves watching.
He can now hear his heart beating in his ears.

He begins to breathe in unison with the Couple, but his
expression is distant almost clinical.

When the Couple climaxes, when they come, Mr. Brooks's face
goes blank.

On the bed the Woman rolls off her Partner and the two of
them lie there basking in the afterglow.

Behind them Mr. Brooks pushes the door fully open and slips
into the ROOM. They don't know he's there until he speaks.


                       MR. BROOKS
             Hello.

Both the Man and Woman jump with surprise and look. The Woman
screams and scrabbles at the sheet to cover herself.

                       MAN
             What the fuck?!

Then he sees the gun.

                       MAN
             Hey, man, don't...



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        10.

CONTINUED: (2)


                    MR. BROOKS
              (to the Woman)
          Be quiet and sit up.

In an attempt to get away, the Woman pushes herself back
against the wall. She can't take her eyes off Mr. Brooks and
she can't stop screaming.

POP! A hole appears above her left eye. The impact of Mr.
Brooks's High Velocity .22 slug bounces her head off the
wall. The screaming stops.

The Man opens his mouth and begins to shake. POP! The bullet
through his brain makes him instantly dead and he crumples
onto the Girl.

Mr. Brooks looks at what he's done. His nostrils flare at the
scent of death. Then he moves, he's got work to do. On his
way to the bed, the pistol goes into his pocket.

                    MARSHALL (O.S.)
              (barks)
          Whoa, Earl, what the fuck is
          this?!!

Mr. Brooks snaps a look.

The curtains of the bedroom window are open; and over half of
the Apartments in a four story Building on the other side of
an alley can see into this room.

Most of their windows are dark. And there's no one looking
out of the windows that are lit.

                    MARSHALL
          These pigs liked to fuck with the
          blinds open, you should have known
          that, Earl. This is a big mistake
          for you, Earl.

                    MR. BROOKS

              (going to the window)
          Almost like I want to get caught,
          huh, Marshall?

                     MARSHALL
          Well, don't fucking do that. I
          don't think either of us would
          enjoy spending the rest of our
          lives in jail or a lethal
          injection.



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                          11.
CONTINUED: (3)


                      MR. BROOKS
          Yes, sir.

He grabs a side of cloth in either hand and yanks the
curtains closed.


                                         CUT TO:

CLOSE on a Polaroid of the dance Couple in a sexual pose. The
attitude of the bodies is awkward and very reminiscent of the
ones in the Polaroid we opened the movie with.

INT. CERAMICS STUDIO Ñ NIGHT

Mr. Brooks is kneeling naked in front of the kiln where his
murder clothes are being reduced to ash.

Arranged on the floor are Polaroids of the dance Couple in
sexual positions.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Please forgive me... Please forgive
          me...

As we look closer at the Photographs we realize by a smear of
blood here and there and the distortion of the limbs that
these tableaus were arranged after the Couple was killed.

One by one, Mr. Brooks picks up his souvenirs. He lingers
over the last image; and from where he's sitting on the edge
of a table:

                     MARSHALL
          Don't even think about it. You know
          the rules.

Reluctantly Mr. Brooks throws the Polaroids into the fire of
the kiln.

                    MARSHALL

          Now go up and make love to your
          beautiful wife.

He leaves. In the kiln, the Polaroids burst into flame.

EXT. MURDER HOUSE Ñ AFTERNOON

The sunlight exposes its charm.

If it weren't for the Police tape, the UNIFORMED OFFICERS,
and the PLAINCLOTHES DETECTIVES, it looks like it would be a
cool place to live.


                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        12.
CONTINUED:


An OLDER DETECTIVE, an African-American, comes out on the
porch and calls to two other DETECTIVES who are drinking
coffee on the lawn:

                       OLDER DETECTIVE
             Where the fuck is Atwood?!


                       YOUNG DETECTIVE
             I called ten minutes ago, they said
             she was on her way.

                       OLDER DETECTIVE
             She doesn't get here soon, these
             bodies won't even be dead anymore?

A Uniformed Cop standing guard at the tape:

                       COP
             You looking for the lady Cop?

                       OLDER DETECTIVE
             Yeah.

                       COP

             She's here. She's been sitting in
             her car right over there for the
             last half hour.

                       OLDER DETECTIVE
             Oh, Christ.

EXT. ATWOOD'S CAR Ñ AFTERNOON

Special Detective TRACY ATWOOD, somewhere in her 30's, is
behind the wheel. The door is open.

By the expression on her face we might guess that Detective
Atwood has simply forgotten to get out of the car.

On the seat next to her is a copy of the Chicago Tribune. The
headline of a middle article on the first page reads: THE
HANGMAN ESCAPES.

Move up to Atwood's face. The Older Detective followed by the
Younger Detective approaches.

                       OLDER DETECTIVE
             You thinking of joining us anytime
             soon, Atwood?

Atwood doesn't look at the Detectives for a long beat and
when she does her expression is not friendly.


                                                   (CONTINUED)


                                                         13.
CONTINUED:


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I really hated yesterday, Snyder,
             and then today came along.

As she gets out of the car, the Men notice the bandages on
her wrists and falling into step with her on the way to the
house.

                       SNYDER (OLDER DETECTIVE)
             What happened to your wrists?

Atwood holds up her hands to reveal the extent of the
bandages.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I tried to commit suicide.

The Young Detective laughs. Atwood whirls on him.


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             What's so funny?

                       YOUNG DETECTIVE
             Eh... I... I don't know, I heard it
             was because you were drunk and got
             into a fight with a fish tank.

Atwood sticks her finger into the Young Detective's chest.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Who are you gonna believe? Me or
             the fucking fish?!

                          YOUNG DETECTIVE
             Eh... you.

                          DETECTIVE ATWOOD

             Good.

Atwood turns and leaves the Men.

                       YOUNG DETECTIVE
                 (under his breath)
             She's nuts!

                          SNYDER
             And rich.

They catch up to Atwood who has squatted down to examine the
lock on the front door.




                                                    (CONTINUED)

                                                         14.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    SNYDER
          There are some scratches in the
          side door cylinder. Other than that
          no signs of forced entry. The alarm
          was armed and we even had to cut
          the security chains to get in.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
              (straightens up)
          This guy hasn't been active for
          over two years...

She enters the house.

INT. MURDER HOUSE Ñ AFTERNOON

From the way Atwood looks at her surroundings as she crosses
the Living Room we get the feel that this Woman misses
nothing.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          ... we think he's either dead or in
          jail on some other charge. This is
          probably a copycat.

Detective Snyder points her down the Hall toward the Bedroom
and follows.

                    SNYDER

          That's why we called you. You're
          the God that tells us peons if we
          have a simple murder here or
          something we can dump on you.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Bite yourself.

Atwood arrives in the doorway of the BEDROOM where the
murders took place and stops.

The Bodies of the dance Couple are now on the floor. The Man
is propped up against the bed in a sitting position. The
Woman has her head in the Man's crotch.

Almost like Mr. Brooks, Atwood's nostrils flare, but in
Atwood's case it's not the scent of death that arouses her
but it's like she's searching for the scent of her prey.

In a glance she memorizes the Room, then steps inside.

                                                           15.



INT. BEDROOM Ñ AFTERNOON

The Crime Scene TECHNICIANS shift to accommodate Atwood's
inspection.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD

              (indicating the Victims)
          He always rearranges the bodies,
          but this is out of character. He
          has never left them in such a crude
          position. Usually it's more
          romantic with their arms around
          each other, kissing, their mouths
          open, their tongues touching.

                    SNYDER
          So we have a copycat?

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Where are the thumbprints?

Snyder points to a bare space of wall above the bed. Atwood
leans in to look at two bloody 'thumbprints' placed side by
side.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          One his one hers?

                    SNYDER
          That's what it looks like.


                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          What's that?

There are two holes gouged into the plaster of the wall.

                     SNYDER
          The bullets went completely through
          the victims. The killer recovered
          the slugs.

Atwood unfolds and after another look around the room goes to
the window and cracks the curtains.

There's the four story Apartment Building across the alley,
its windows staring down at her.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Were these open or closed when you
          got here?




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                         16.

CONTINUED:


                       SNYDER
             Closed.

Atwood tries the cord, the curtains are stuck.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Hmm...

She returns her attention to the murder scene.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             It has never been revealed to the
             public that the Thumbprint Killer
             retrieves the slugs.

                       SNYDER

             So this one's yours.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I don't fucking need this.

She doubles back and cracks the curtains for another look at
the four story Apartment Building.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Have you checked the tenants of
             that building?

                       SNYDER
             Only a few of them are home, they
             say they didn't see anything. We
             checked the whole neighborhood, so
             far nobody saw a thing.

Atwood nods and turns back to the bodies.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Leaving them like this, he must
             have been angry at them for some
             reason.

She reaches down and runs a hand over the carpet.


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Where would they keep their vacuum
             cleaner.

A puzzled Snyder follows her out of the room.

INT. PANTRY Ñ AFTERNOON

Atwood opens a service closet. There's the Vacuum Cleaner.


                                                    (CONTINUED)

                                                           17.
CONTINUED:


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD

             I'll bet you a hundred bucks,
             Snyder, there is no bag in that
             vacuum cleaner.

                       SNYDER
             I have no idea what you're looking
             for.

Atwood unzips the cover. There is no bag inside.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             He vacuumed the house and took the
             bag.

                       SNYDER
             Oh, shit. That is scary smart.

EXT. ALLEY Ñ AFTERNOON

Detective Atwood is standing on an empty capped plastic
gallon milk carton looking over the fence into the back yard
of the Murder House. Snyder has his hand on her back to
steady her.


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Okay.

He releases her. She hops down and directs her attention at
the four story Apartment Building.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Our best hope is if someone in
             there saw something.

A MAN comes out from behind the next door fence and strides
purposefully toward them.

                       MAN
             Detective Tracy Atwood?

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Yes.

                       MAN

             This is for you.

She accepts the official looking document being offered.

                       MAN
             You have been served.



                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        18.
CONTINUED:


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             You fucking asshole!! I'm in the
             middle of a fucking murder
             investigation!!


                       MAN
                 (backing away)
             Hey, take it easy lady, I'm just
             the messenger.

                          DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Goddamit!!

                       SNYDER
             What is it?

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             My soon to be ex-husband's scumbag
             lawyer is trying to show me how
             painful she can make my life if I
             don't give them what they want.

                       SNYDER

             This is not the Doctor.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             The doctor was a couple years ago.
             This one is my stupid mistake.

INT. CHURCH HALL Ñ DAY

An AA Meeting is getting started. Mr. Brooks is one of the
ASSEMBLED. The LEADER steps into the semicircle of Men and
Women.

                       LEADER
             Are there any new members?

A WOMAN comes forward.

                        WOMAN
             Hi, my name is Vaughn and I'm an
             alcoholic.

She rejoins the circle. Mr. Brooks separates himself from the
Others.


                       MR. BROOKS
             Hi, my name is Earl and I'm an
             addict.

When he rejoins the circle, Marshall is there to greet him.


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        19.
CONTINUED:


                       MARSHALL
             You're such a fucking hypocrite. If
             you were honest you would step out
             there and say 'Hi, I'm Earl. I
             killed two people last night and I
             really got off on it, but I need
             your help to be cured.'

                       MR. BROOKS

             I'm different Marshall, I won't
             argue that with you. This is the
             only place that has ever helped me
             be normal and I've been straight up
             until last night for the past two
             years. I'm not going to kill again
             and I'm not going to quit coming
             here because it upsets you.

                       MARSHALL
             Yeah but for the next 29 days
             you're going to have to step out
             there and say 'Hi, I'm Earl, I'm an
             addict.' And everybody will know
             you fell off the wagon. Don't you
             feel stupid doing that?

                       MR. BROOKS
             No. I feel good.

EXT. INDUSTRIAL SECTION OF CHICAGO Ñ DAY

A Cab arrives at the Front Entrance of the BROOKS BOX
FACTORY, a long three story brick Building.

A YOUNG WOMAN, 19, is dropped off along with an assortment of
luggage and boxes.

INT. BROOKS BOX FACTORY Ñ DAY

It's loud. We follow a thin piece of cardboard as one machine
deals it off the bottom of a stack into the maw of another
machine.

That machine prints one side of the cardboard blue.

It is handed off to the third machine which cuts the flaps.
The fourth machine folds and glues those flaps and spits the
piece of cardboard out onto a conveyor belt as a box.

Wearing safety glasses and ear protectors along with his
business suit, Mr. Brooks picks up the box and hands it to
one of three similarly attired MEN, standing nearby.


                                                   (CONTINUED)


                                                         20.
CONTINUED:


                       MR. BROOKS
             This is not the top of the line or
             the bottom, but for the money we're
             talking about this is the quality I
             can provide you.

As Mr. Brooks talks the Men pass the box between them.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Your packaging is the first
             impression your customers will have
             of your product...

                       PA SYSTEM
             Mr. Brooks, your daughter is
             waiting for you in your office.

A surprised Mr. Brooks grabs a quick look at the PA Speaker,
then continues.


                       MR. BROOKS
             ... We'd love to work you with on
             the design. It's fun to challenge
             our machines. If you check around,
             you'll find we're not the cheapest,
             but we are the best.

INT. RECEPTION AREA - BROOKS BOX FACTORY Ñ DAY

On his way through to his office, Mr. Brooks smiles absently
at a MAN waiting on the couch. The pleasant-looking Man in
his early 30's, nods.

Mr. Brooks stops at his SECRETARY's desk.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Sunday, did Jane call and say she
             was coming?

                       SUNDAY
             I would have given you that
             message, Mr. Brooks. She has boxes
             and suitcases downstairs.

                       MR. BROOKS

             Hold my calls.

INT. MR. BROOKS' OFFICE Ñ DAY

                       MR. BROOKS
                 (coming in)
             What are you doing here, Gorgeous?


                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                          21.
CONTINUED:


The 19 year old Girl we saw arrive by cab stands up and
throws her arms around Mr. Brooks.


                       JANE
             I'm sorry, Daddy, please don't be
             angry with me.

Mr. Brooks kisses Jane on the forehead and goes to sit at his
desk.

                       MR. BROOKS
             I can guess what you've done, but
             why don't you tell me and then I'll
             decide.

                       JANE
             I dropped out of school.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Okay. Have you told your mother
             this?

                       JANE

             No. I wanted to speak to you first.

                       MR. BROOKS
             You'll have to tell her, I'm not
             going to do that for you, and then
             together the three of us will
             decide where to go from here.

                       JANE
             I've thought a lot about this, Dad.
             College is a waste of time for me.

                       MR. BROOKS
             I don't know how you know that half
             way through your Freshman year,
             but...

                       JANE
             You didn't go to college, Dad, and
             you're successful. I want to come
             and work for you.

Sitting on the couch:


                       MARSHALL
             She's not telling you everything,
             she's hiding something.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        22.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    MR. BROOKS
          I know.
              (to Jane)
          I'm not hiring right now.

                    JANE

          Just listen to me. What would
          happen to the business if, God
          forbid, something happened to you?
          Mom would probably have to sell to
          strangers. I'm willing to start at
          the bottom, you can treat me as a
          regular employee, I want to learn
          everything there is to know about
          running the box business, and then
          when the time comes, the business
          would stay in the family.

                    MR. BROOKS
          That's sweet, but you're talking
          about emotion, not business. In
          fact your mother and I came very
          close to selling out last year.

                    JANE
          What?!

                    MR. BROOKS
          If we had been offered a little
          more money, and they may come back
          to us, we will sell.

                    JANE
          What would you do without...?!

There's a knock on the door.


                    MR. BROOKS
          Yes?

Sunday, the secretary, comes in and crossing to Mr. Brooks:

                    SUNDAY
          I'm sorry, I know you didn't want
          to be disturbed, the Man in the
          waiting room insisted I give you
          this.

She hands Mr. Brooks a letter-size envelope.




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                           23.
CONTINUED: (3)


                    SUNDAY

          He said you would find what's
          inside very interesting.

                    MR. BROOKS
          What is he? A salesman?

                    SUNDAY
          He won't say. I've never seen him
          before. I can tell him to go away
          if you want me to.

                    MR. BROOKS
          That's okay.

She leaves. Slicing the flap of the envelope, Mr. Brooks
picks up with Jane.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Part of spending the four years in
          college is to...

Mr. Brooks can now see the contents of the envelope.

Two snapshot-size PHOTOS taken with a high speed digital
camera. One shows the right side of Mr. Brooks's cheek.

He is in no way identifiable, but that blur of flesh appears
to be looking at the dead dance Couple.

The second Photo is a clear shot of Mr. Brooks closing the
curtains with the dead dance Couple behind him.

Neither Mr. Brooks's voice or his face betray the enormity of
what he's looking at.


                    MR. BROOKS
          ... eh... to give yourself the
          chance to find out who you are and
          what you want to do.

                    JANE
          I'll talk to Mom, but I'm not going
          back to school.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Where would you live?

                    JANE
          To save money I would move back
          home, but no rules, no curfew, I
          want to be treated like an adult.


                                                  (CONTINUED)


                                                        24.
CONTINUED: (4)


Mr. Brooks allows himself a slight smile.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Would you pay for your food, would
          you pay rent?

                    JANE
          No, dad, you're a very wealthy man,
          you can afford to keep me.

Mr. Brooks presses his Intercom.

                    MR. BROOKS

          Sunday, would you show the
          gentleman who gave you the envelope
          to the conference room, and tell
          him I'll meet him there and...
              (to Jane)
          What happened to the BMW?

                    JANE
          A friend is driving it across
          country, it'll be here next
          weekend.

                    MR. BROOKS
              (to Sunday, through
               Intercom)
          And get Jane a cab.

He picks up the phone and holds it out to Jane.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Call your mother.

                    JANE
          Are you going to give me a job?


                    MR. BROOKS
          If it were up to me, and I think
          your mother will agree with this,
          you should go back to school.

INT. HALLWAY - BROOKS BOX FACTORY Ñ DAY

Mr. Brooks comes around the corner. He's raving at Marshall
who's walking beside him.

                    MR. BROOKS
          You see all of this?! The factory,
          the houses, the cars, the money,
          the respect!!...


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        25.
CONTINUED:



A different angle in the same hallway shows Mr. Brooks
walking away from us. A passing EMPLOYEE crosses him. The Men
nod to each other. Marshall is nowhere in sight.

                        MR. BROOKS (V.O.)
             ... I like them! I don't want to
             lose them!

And then we're back to the original angle and Marshall is
again in the picture.

                       MR. BROOKS
             ... That's why I didn't want to do
             the dance Couple!

                       MARSHALL
             Stop your fucking whining, Earl,
             you enjoyed doing that Couple just
             as much as I did, and look on the
             bright side, he came to us he
             didn't go to the Cops. If he tries
             to shake us down we kill him.
             Period. We make it fun but we kill
             him. End of story.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - BROOKS BOX FACTORY Ñ DAY


The Man from the Reception Area is nervously admiring a
display of Mr. Brooks's ceramic pieces. He turns at the sound
of the door opening behind.

                       MR. BROOKS
             What can I do for you, Mr...?

                       MAN
             ... Let's say, 'Smith'.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Okay, Mr. Smith.

Mr. Brooks motions him to a seat.

                       MR. SMITH (MAN)
                 (sitting)
             Before you get the wrong
             impression, Mr. Brooks, I'm not
             here to shake you down.





                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        26.
CONTINUED:


                       MR. BROOKS
                 (holding up the photos)
             Then these are the only copies of
             these photos and you have no
             others.

                       MR. SMITH
             No. I have other copies and other
             photos, and if something were to
             happen to me...

                       MR. BROOKS

             How did you find me, Mr. Smith?

                       MR. SMITH
             You're 'Man of the Year', Mr.
             Brooks. Your picture was in the
             paper. If it hadn't been, I don't
             know what I would have done.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Lucky me. What is it that I can
             help you with?

                       MR. SMITH
             I've been watching that Couple for
             months, they liked to make love
             with the blinds open. Sometimes I
             would take pictures, you know,
             visual aides for later. It was fun,
             it was a great way to get off; I
             thought, until I saw you kill them.
             I have to tell you I have never
             ever felt a rush like that ever. I
             know you're the Thumbprint killer,
             you've done this before. What I
             want is to go with you the next
             time you kill someone. And I would
             like that to be soon.

From the end of the table, Marshall cackles a laugh.

                       MARSHALL
             And you were worried that this was
             going to be unpleasant. The answer
             is simple. Just tell him you've
             decided never to kill again and
             he'll go away.


                       MR. BROOKS
             You enjoy watching me suffer, don't
             you?


                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                          27.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    MARSHALL
          In a word, yes.

                    MR. BROOKS

          Where do you think he has the other
          pictures?

                    MARSHALL
          He put them in a safety deposit box
          but I'll bet the box is at the bank
          where he has his checking account
          and the key is on his keychain. He
          really wants to do this, he's not
          going to go to the cops.

Mr. Smith who has grown uneasy under Mr. Brooks's stare
swallows:

                    MR. SMITH
          So do we have a deal?

                    MR. BROOKS
          From the angle of these pictures...
              (taps the envelope)
          ... you live on the third floor of
          the apartment building across the
          alley from the Couple's house.

                    MR. SMITH
          Well... eh.


                    MR. BROOKS
          Yes or no, Mr. Smith?

Mr. Smith nods 'yes'.

                    MR. BROOKS
          What time do you get home from
          work?

                    MR. SMITH
          Six thirty, seven, depending on the
          traffic.

                    MR. BROOKS
          You can never come here again, you
          can never call me. Do you
          understand that?

                    MR. SMITH

          Yes.



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        28.
CONTINUED: (3)


                    MR. BROOKS
          Tomorrow night, not tonight,
          tomorrow night, at eight o'clock,
          leave your apartment and walk east.
          I'll pick you up.

                    MR. SMITH
          If you're thinking of doing
          anything to me, Mr. Brooks...


                    MR. BROOKS
          We're both aware of the rules, Mr.
          Smith, but I feel I must warn you.
          If it turns out that you enjoy
          killing, it can become very
          addictive. It could ruin your life.

                    MR. SMITH
          I want to do this.

                    MR. BROOKS
              (looks at Marshall)
          Have I covered everything?

                    MARSHALL
          I can't think of anything else.

Mr. Brooks stands up and opens the door.

                    MR. BROOKS

          I'll see you tomorrow night, Mr.
          Smith.

On his way out, Mr. Smith nods. Mr. Brooks closes the door.
His chin drops on his chest and he sighs.

                    MR. BROOKS
              (under his breath)
          Please God, please help me find a
          way not to do this.

EXT. DOWNTOWN CHICAGO Ñ DAY

Detective Atwood comes out of the CROWD on the sidewalk and
enters a Highrise.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - LAW OFFICES Ñ DAY

Atwood and her ATTORNEYS, a gray-haired Man in his 60's, and
an Asian Woman about the same age as Atwood are on one side
of the table.



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                           29.

CONTINUED:


JESSE, Atwood's soon to be ex-husband, very handsome,
slightly younger than Atwood, and SHEILA, his attractive
divorce lawyer, sit across from them.

                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             We've talked to our client and
             we've come up with a number that we
             feel is more than fair.

Atwood is not happy with this. The Attorney slides a sheet of
paper to Sheila. She turns it over. On it is written:
$750,000 -.

                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             We can have a check for that amount
             in your office by 6 o'clock.

                       SHEILA
             We told you at the beginning what
             we want and that hasn't changed.


                       GRAY-HAIRED ATTORNEY
             You know as well as I do,
             Counselor, if we go to court you're
             not going to get a million five.

                       SHEILA
             I don't know. Let's see.

She holds up the front page of the Chicago Tribune. "THE
HANGMAN ESCAPES" story is circled in red.

                       SHEILA
             This is the front page of
             yesterday's paper...
                 (reads)
             'Hangman Escapes'... eh... now,
             here it is... 'after torturing the
             young women, Thorton Meeks would
             hang them in public places - church
             steeples, balconies, Freeway
             overpasses'... Your client captured
             Mr. Meeks. This is just one example
             of the cases my client lived
             through when he was married to your
             client.

                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             Your client knew Detective Atwood
             was a homicide detective when he
             married her.



                                                   (CONTINUED)


                                                     30.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    SHEILA
          But he had no idea of the mental
          anguish that being in close
          proximity to her work would cause
          him.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          What about the mental anguish I
          went through being in close
          proximity to him. Who's gonna pay
          me for that?

                    ASIAN ATTORNEY
          We don't need to get into this,
          Tracy.


                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Yes, we do. I was the one who paid
          for everything while we were
          married, and now I'm being asked to
          give him a bonus for spending time
          with me when I've already paid for
          it in the first place.

                    JESSE
              (to Atwood)
          Tracy, this is not a lot of money
          for you, and you know how upset I
          was when Meeks said that he was
          going to escape and he would come
          back and kill you.

                    SHEILA
          We're quite willing to find out
          what a court would think that
          mental anguish is worth.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Jesse... Darling?... you know the
          best thing that could happen to me
          right now? That you get hit by a
          truck and die.

                    SHEILA

              (smiles)
          That's it! Mr. Vialo and I are
          leaving.
              (she and Jesse stand up)
          You've threatened my client, we're
          going to ask for a restraining
          order, and we'll see you in court.



                                                (CONTINUED)

                                                        31.
CONTINUED: (3)


The door closes behind them.

                    GRAY-HAIRED ATTORNEY
          That's going to cost you, Tracy.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD

              (standing up)
          Fuck it. It felt good.

INT. APARTMENT Ñ NIGHT

Moonlight seeps around the blinds to reveal Mr. Smith asleep
in bed.

Beyond the open BEDROOM door down the hall is only darkness
until the eruption of illumination from a penlight
momentarily outlines the figure of a Man.

Then we're looking at what the penlight sees.

A keyring. Hands in surgical gloves isolate the - safety
deposit key - and press it into a soft wax block where it
leaves its impression. The light goes off.

In the BEDROOM at the end of the hallway, Mr. Smith begins to
snore. The Figure coasts silently toward the sound.

Mr. Smith's face is sideways on the pillow. The snores and a
little drool burbles out of the corner of his mouth.

WHOOMP!! The impact of something landing on the bed bounces
Mr. Smith upright and awake.

                    MR. SMITH
          Ahhh!!! Ahhh!!! Ahhh!!!

The beam from the penlight hits him in the face. He raises
his hands to shield his eyes.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Don't worry, if I were here to kill
          you, you would already be dead.

The penlight leaves Mr. Smith and Mr. Brooks places it
deliberately under his own chin casting long sinister shadows
up his face. He's sitting on the bed next to Mr. Smith.

                    MR. BROOKS
          After you left today, I realized
          our friendship was a little one-
          sided.

                    (MORE)


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                           32.
CONTINUED:
                       MR. BROOKS (CONT'D)
             So when we meet tomorrow night
             would you be so kind as to bring
             all of the pictures and the memory
             card from your camera. That way we
             can like each other simply for who
             we are. If you don't show up, I
             will presume you've gone to the
             police and I will kill you. Even if
             I go to jail because of you,
             someone will find you wherever you
             are and kill you.

The penlight goes off. There's total silence.

                       MR. SMITH
                 (squeaks)
             Mr. Brooks?...

He squints into the black.


                       MR. SMITH
             Mr. Brooks?...

Finally he gathers the courage to extend a shaky hand. The
bedside lamp goes on. The room is empty. Cautiously Mr. Smith
swings his legs out of bed and stands up.

He forces himself to go to the door and from there curls his
arm around the jamb into the darkness.

The HALL light is dazzling.

A peek into the BATHROOM shows there is nobody there. He
continues on into the LIVING ROOM.

His camera equipment is on the table. The tripod is still set
up. There is no sign of Mr. Brooks.

Mr. Smith eyes the front door. It's closed and the 'security
chain' is in place!!

Another quick scan of the room. It sure seems that he's
alone.

He opens the front door the length of the chain and looks up
and down the hallway. It's empty. Slowly he closes the door.

Standing in the light of his LIVING ROOM, Mr. Smith is more
scared and strangely more excited than he's ever been in his
life.

                       MR. SMITH
             Wow!...

                                                         33.



INT. BROOKS HOUSE Ñ NIGHT

In a robe and pajamas, Mr. Brooks comes down the HALLWAY
carrying a glass of milk. The door to his Daughter's ROOM is
partly open. By the nightlight in the plug at the head of the
bed he can see she's asleep.


INT. BEDROOM Ñ NIGHT

Mr. Brooks walks to the bed, leans over and kisses his
Daughter on the cheek.

                       MR. BROOKS
                 (quietly)
             It's nice to have you home.

He leaves.

EXT. CHICAGO - MORNING

The early rays of the sun are moving down the tall buildings.

EXT. BROOKS HOUSE Ñ MORNING

A garbage truck is picking up the trash.

INT. BROOKS HOUSE Ñ MORNING

Dressed for work and a smile on his face, Mr. Brooks comes
down the stairs.

In the BREAKFAST ROOM, the mood is decidedly different. His
Wife and Daughter are leaning against opposite walls staring
at the floor.

                       MR. BROOKS

             What's wrong?

                       EMMA
             Ask your daughter what the real
             reason is she dropped out of
             school.

                       JANE
             I keep telling you it's not the
             reason.




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        34.
CONTINUED:


                       EMMA
             You wanted to go to college, you
             had good grades in High School,
             your father helped you get into
             Stanford, we're paying a ton of
             money, if this is not the reason,
             then please dear God tell me the
             reason.

                       MR. BROOKS
                 (picking up an orange
                  juice)
             Why does your mother think you
             dropped out of school?

                       JANE
             I'm pregnant.
                 (to her Mother)
             And it's not the reason I dropped
             out. Being pregnant wouldn't stop
             me from going to school if I wanted
             to go.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Who's the father?


                       JANE
             Some guy I was seeing.

                       EMMA
             Does he know?

                       JANE
             Yes, he's a married man and he
             doesn't want to have anything to do
             with me.

                       EMMA
             Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry.

                       JANE

             I'm going to have an abortion
             anyway, so there is nothing to get
             upset about. I wasn't even going to
             tell you guys.

Mr. Brooks looks directly at his Daughter.

                       MR. BROOKS
             There will be no abortion.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                          35.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    JANE
          Daddy, you are not going to tell me
          what to do. It's my body and I will
          do what I want to do with it.

Mr. Brooks's eyes find Emma's. Almost imperceptibly she
shakes her head 'no'.


                    MR. BROOKS
              (to his Daughter)
          You're right. I'm sorry. I said it
          wrong. I'm not trying to tell you
          what to do. I'm trying to say that
          a grandchild would be a wonderful
          gift for your mother and me.

                    EMMA
          Please, Honey, don't have an
          abortion.

                    JANE
          Would you really want to have a
          grandchild, even though I'm not
          married?

                    MR. BROOKS
          Yes. The child is what's important.
          We would love it and cherish it
          completely and help you raise it.

                    JANE

          If it means that much to you, I'll
          think about it.

INT. GARAGE - BROOKS HOUSE Ñ MORNING

Walking to the Lexus, Mr. Brooks notices Marshall waiting for
him on the passenger side.

                     MR. BROOKS
              (smiles)
          Well, we were right, she was hiding
          something.

                     MARSHALL
              (flat)
          Pregnant's not all of it. She's
          hiding something bigger. Much
          bigger.

                    MR. BROOKS
          You think so?



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                          36.
CONTINUED:


                       MARSHALL
             I know so, and so do you.

INT. CRIME LAB Ñ AFTERNOON

Large and small Color Photographs pinned to a corkboard
create a Collage of the dance Couple murder scene.

Standing in front of this is CAPTAIN LISTER, a tall slim open-
faced Woman in her mid-fifties, and the lead Crime Scene
Technician we saw earlier at the Murder House.

                       TECHNICIAN

             It's not what's here, it's what's
             not here that's interesting.
             There's not a trace of anything
             foreign. If I didn't know better
             I'd say these people were killed by
             a ghost.

                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             The autopsy found a tiny piece of
             plastic in the female victim's
             brain.

                       TECHNICIAN
             We're checking with the ammunition
             manufacturers.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
                 (entering the room)
             That's a dead end, he bags the gun.

                       TECHNICIAN
             I don't understand.


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             He ziplocks a one gallon plastic
             freezer bag to his wrist over the
             gun. Bang. Bang. A little bit of
             plastic is carried by the first
             slug, the ejected shells go into
             the bag and it limits the powder
             residue.
                 (to Captain Lister)
             I hear you were looking for me.

                       CAPTAIN LISTER
                 (to the Technician)
             Sigy...




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        37.
CONTINUED:


                       SIGY (TECHNICIAN)

             Yeah, okay...
                 (to Atwood)
             Did you find anything? Did they
             have enemies, did they owe money,
             did anybody ever notice someone
             watching the house?

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             So far they are Mr. and Miss
             Normal.

                       SIGY
                 (backing away)
             If you find anything, call, it
             might help me.

He's gone.

                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             I received a subpoena from your
             husband's lawyer for your work
             records, where you were, date and
             times for the past two years.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             That's blackmail.


                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             Almost three quarters of your cases
             are current. I can't let that
             information go into open court. So
             until you settle your divorce, I'm
             going to have to put you on a desk.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             That's also blackmail.

                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             That's one of your big problems,
             Atwood, you don't know how to ask
             for help.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Do you know what he did to me?

                       CAPTAIN LISTER

             You can't grow old as a woman
             without having at least one lousy
             man in your life.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                     38.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          I was so stupid. While we were
          married, while I paid for him to
          live, the son of a bitch fucked
          every woman he could get his hands
          on. He fucked my friends, he even
          fucked a cousin of mine. Everyone
          knew but me, and they were laughing
          at me behind my back. He made me
          look like an idiot. I was a joke.

                      CAPTAIN LISTER
          And?...


                      DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          And what?

                    CAPTAIN LISTER
          Get over it.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          I made him an offer. I'm not going
          to give him one red cent more.

                    CAPTAIN LISTER
          I hear what he's asking for, you
          could take out of pocket change. Do
          that and go on with your life.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD

          I couldn't live with myself if I
          did.

                    CAPTAIN LISTER
          I'll spread your work among the
          other guys and the FBI will be here
          on thursday...
              (motions to the pictures)
          ... they'll take over this case.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Please, these are my cases. Nobody
          knows them like me. Don't give them
          away and don't give the Thumbprint
          Killer to the FBI. He's killed
          people in twelve other states, let
          them fuck up those investigations.
          This one's mine.




                                                (CONTINUED)

                                                           39.
CONTINUED: (3)


                    CAPTAIN LISTER
              (opening the door to
               leave)
          You heard Meeks escaped?

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Yeah.

                    CAPTAIN LISTER
          Do you want a detail on you in case
          he comes after you?

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          I can take care of myself.


                    CAPTAIN LISTER
          You're a good cop, Tracy, I don't
          want to lose you, but you have to
          help me if you want me to help you.

INT. HALLWAY Ñ CRIME LAB Ñ AFTERNOON

Atwood is waiting for an elevator. It arrives. The doors
open. The car is empty.

INT. ELEVATOR Ñ AFTERNOON

Atwood gets in and presses the key for her destination, then
slumps into a corner for the ride. The doors close. The
elevator begins to move.

All at once Atwood screams. Her pent-up anger and frustration
rip the air and she goes nuts.

She punches the wall of the elevator, kicks it, throws
herself to the other side, bangs her head against that wall,
punches it, kicks it, all the while screaming.

Then the tears come. The screams stop and she settles upright
against the back wall, where she strikes her chest repeatedly
with the flat of her closed hand.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          What is wrong with me? What is
          wrong with me? What is wrong with
          me?

EXT. MURDER HOUSE Ñ NIGHT

It's raining. The yellow Police tape that still circles the
yard snaps in the wind.




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        40.
CONTINUED:


Up the driveway, out of sight of all the other homes, there's
a movement at the side door of the house.

A closer inspection reveals that it's Detective Atwood. From
under her umbrella she studies her surroundings and as if
she's speaking to the killer, she speaks to herself.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Did you choose them because of
             where they lived or how they looked
             or what jobs they had? Or did you
             just pick them because at the
             instant you saw them, you had
             decided to kill someone? The side
             door was perfect. No one could see
             you pick the lock.

With a key she lets herself in.

EXT. STREET Ñ NIGHT

Parked against the curb opposite the driveway of the Murder
House is an old green Pontiac Convertible with the top up.

The driver's window is down and from inside a WOMAN, late
20's, is watching the house.

INT. MURDER HOUSE Ñ NIGHT


Atwood stops in the PANTRY almost in the exact spot where Mr.
Brooks stopped.

The quiet is filled by the rain drumming on the roof. The
wind rattles the windows.

                        DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             How did you know where they were in
             the house?

She steps into the KITCHEN. On the way across she bumps into
a chair.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             It's darker tonight than it was on
             your night. But still how did you
             manage not to bump into the
             furniture? Did you have a little
             light? That would be too dangerous.
             I'll bet you were in the house
             before.
                       (MORE)



                                                   (CONTINUED)


                                                        41.
CONTINUED:
                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD (CONT'D)
             So I should ask the neighbors if
             they saw a meter reader around the
             house or a telephone repairman or
             someone from the gas company.

These musings take her through the LIVING ROOM to the
entrance of the HALLWAY where she pauses and looks both ways.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Once again, how did you know where
             they were? Did you check the rooms
             before you found them? She had his
             semen in her vagina, they had just
             made love, did you hear them or was
             there a light on?

She steps into the HALL.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             And when did you bag the gun?
             Because even though I'm sure you're
             an expert at it, there's still a
             chance of noise from the plastic.

She continues down the HALL to the BEDROOM.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD

             Was the door open or did you have
             to open it?

She opens the door and goes in.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Were they asleep or awake? Was the
             light on, or did you turn it on?
             Because I know you, you wouldn't
             risk a shot in the dark.

She turns on the overhead light.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Too bright. What if it wasn't that
             light that was on, but this one?

She turns on a bedside light and goes back to the door and
turns off the overhead.

If the dance Couple were on the bed and their blood was not
on the wall, the room would look exactly the way it did when
Mr. Brooks said 'hello'.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        42.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          That's better... What thrill do you
          get by killing people? Is it
          sexual, is it hate, is it power? Do
          you feel remorse? Probably that
          part of your brain doesn't exist.
          Do you have emotions of love or
          affection or joy? Or have you
          learned to fake them so you won't
          stand out in a crowd.

She's at the window now, feeling the curtains.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          What if these are stuck closed
          because you yanked them closed?
          Which means they were open when you
          came into the room.

She separates the fabric and looks out the rain-streaked
window at the four story building across the alley. There are
lights on in almost all the apartment windows.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          If Mr. and Miss Normal made love
          with the curtains open and the
          lights on, someone in that building
          noticed them and may have seen you.

She allows the fabric to drop back into place and turns to
look at the bed.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Was that what you were angry about?


INT. APARTMENT BUILDING Ñ NIGHT

Moving slowly across a neutral colored wall.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD (O.S.)
          Thank you for your time.

A door is closed. We come to the corner and are looking down
a HALLWAY at Atwood coming toward us. We move to her and
arrive just as she raises her fist to knock.

Before she can, the door opens and she and Mr. Smith who is
on his way out of his Apartment are surprised that the other
one is suddenly there. Each one takes a half step back.

Phwap! The manila envelope that was wedged under Mr. Smith's
left arm hits the floor.


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                         43.
CONTINUED:


                       MR. SMITH

             Oh! You scared me.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I'm sorry...
                 (bends down and picks up
                  the envelope)
             ... I was about to knock. I'm
             Detective Atwood with the Chicago
             Police.

                        MR. SMITH
                 (accepting the envelope)
             Thank you.

Through the open door, Atwood can see Mr. Smith's camera on a
table and the collapsed tripod leaning against the wall.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Are you a photographer...
                 (glances at her list)
             Mr. Baffert?

                       MR. SMITH
             No... eh, it's kind of a hobby, I
             just started.


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I don't know if you're aware but
             there was a murder...

                       MR. SMITH
             Oh, yes in the house across the
             alley...

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Did you happen to see anything
             unusual or suspicious that night
             around that house? Anything at all?

Mr. Smith puts on his thinking expression and pauses a little
bit before:

                       MR. SMITH
             No... I wondered that when I heard
             what happened, but... no.
                 (looks at his watch)
             I'm sorry, I'm meeting someone and
             I don't want to be late.

He moves into the Hallway closing the door behind him.



                                                   (CONTINUED)


                                                           44.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Here's my card, if you hear
          anything or remember anything.

                    MR. SMITH
              (taking the card)
          I wish I could be of more help, but
          sorry.

Watching him walk away amid the crinkle of his raincoat,
Detective Atwood, maybe because of her woman's intuition or
maybe because she's a good cop, wonders what is in that
manila envelope under his arm.

The thought is gone almost as soon as it comes and she faces
about to the next door.

EXT. STREET Ñ NIGHT

Hunched against the rain, Mr. Smith is acutely aware of the
traffic. His eyes strain to see the Occupants of each passing
car. He doesn't give a second thought to the older non-
descript Toyota parked against the far curb.


INT. TOYOTA Ñ NIGHT

Mr. Brooks is in the driver's seat. Marshall is in the back.
They're both tracking the progress of Mr. Smith.

                    MR. BROOKS
          He looks clean. He looks like he's
          alone.

                    MARSHALL
          No, I'm telling you he wants to do
          this.

                    MR. BROOKS
          I guess I should turn around and go
          pick him up.

                    MARSHALL

          Nah. Just honk. Maybe he'll get
          killed crossing the street and save
          us the mess of doing it.

EXT. STREET Ñ NIGHT

Honk!! Honk!! Mr. Smith looks around. He's not sure that
sound was for him. But when the Toyota honks again and
flashes it's lights, Mr. Smith waves and splashes to the
center of the street.


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        45.
CONTINUED:


Even though he stops to let it pass, a car sounds its horn
and swerves to avoid him. Mr. Smith crosses behind the Toyota
and opens the passenger door.

INT. TOYOTA Ñ NIGHT

Mr. Smith flops into the seat.


                       MR. SMITH
             Woof! It's really coming down out
             there.

                       MR. BROOKS
             They say it'll be sunny tomorrow.

Mr. Smith fumbles with the buttons and zipper on his
raincoat.

                       MR. SMITH
             I never trust those guys, when they
             say it's going to be clear it
             always rains and when they say it's
             going to rain, it's sunny.

He comes up with the manila envelope.

                       MR. SMITH
             Here's what you asked for.

Mr. Brooks takes it and hefts it.

                       MR. BROOKS

             The pictures and the memory card
             all here?

                       MR. SMITH
             Yeah.

                       MR. BROOKS
             You and I both know that not all
             the pictures are in here and you
             made a copy of the Memory Card,
             isn't that so?

                       MR. SMITH
             But you understand my position.

Mr. Brooks favors him with a wolfish smile.




                                                   (CONTINUED)


                                                        46.
CONTINUED:


                       MR. BROOKS
             Yes, I do. But it's my hope that
             once you get to know me better
             you'll feel comfortable in giving
             me all that I've asked for.

                       MR. SMITH
             That sounds fair. Oh, I almost
             forgot. I thought you might be
             interested in this.

His hand comes forward with a card.

                       MR. SMITH
             It's the policewoman who's looking
             for you.

Marshall snaps forward from the back seat.


                       MARSHALL
             Wow! We've never known anyone who's
             looking for us before.

Mr. Brooks pinches the rectangle of paper away from Mr. Smith
for a closer view.

                       MARSHALL
             We've got to find out everything
             there is to know about this woman.

                       MR. BROOKS
             This is too close, Marshall, too
             damn close.

Mr. Smith interrupts Mr. Brooks's focus on Detective Atwood's
card.

                       MR. SMITH
             So, what do we do now? What's the
             plan for the evening?

Mr. Brooks slips the envelope under the seat and starts the
car.

                       MR. BROOKS

             We drive around until we see
             someone we think we might enjoy
             killing.

                       MR. SMITH
             Really? That's it? I thought you
             might already have someone in mind.


                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        47.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    MR. BROOKS
          I don't enjoy this, Mr. Smith. I do
          it because I'm addicted to it. And
          before you entered my life I had
          vowed I would never kill again. So
          this is your party, you can chose
          anyone you want and we'll do it
          together.


                    MR. SMITH
          Can it be someone I know?

                    MR. BROOKS
          You never kill someone you know.
          That's the easiest way to get
          caught.

EXT. STREET Ñ NIGHT

The Toyota enters the traffic.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING Ñ NIGHT

An older WOMAN in a Stewardess uniform is standing in the
doorway of her apartment. Atwood is in front of her in the
HALL.

                     STEWARDESS

          I wasn't in town that night, my
          roommate was, maybe he saw
          something.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          May I speak to him?

                    STEWARDESS
          He's on his way to Tokyo now, he's
          also a Flight Attendant.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Did the victims ever leave the
          curtains in the bedroom open?

                    STEWARDESS
          All the time. I don't know if they
          thought we couldn't see them
          "fucking" or they didn't care.





                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                         48.
CONTINUED:


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Here's my card, could you ask your
             roommate to call me when he gets
             back, the people at that number
             will find me any hour of the day or
             night.

                       STEWARDESS
             I won't be here, but I'll leave him
             a note.

EXT. STREET Ñ NIGHT


Mr. Brooks' Toyota is cruising in the flow of traffic.

                       MR. BROOKS (V.O.)
             ... maybe I already know how to
             pick the locks on the house, if I
             don't...

INT. TOYOTA Ñ NIGHT

                       MR. BROOKS
             ... I buy one of those locks and I
             practice on it, same with the
             alarm... some I know how to bypass,
             some I have to study.

                        MR. SMITH
             You don't mind me asking these
             questions?

                       MR. BROOKS

             No. This is your first time, you're
             interested. And you should be if
             you're...

A neutral-colored PICKUP swerves out of the next lane into
Mr. Brooks' lane.

                       MR. SMITH
             Jesus Christ!!

Mr. Brooks is forced to slam on his brakes to avoid running
up the PICKUP'S tailpipe.

HOONKK!!! Mr. Brooks angrily lays on the horn.

The brake lights of the PICKUP flash in response causing Mr.
Brooks to brake again.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                          49.
CONTINUED:


                       MR. SMITH
             Fuck him!! It was his fault!! What
             an asshole!!


                       MARSHALL
                 (leans forward)
             Maybe Mr. Smith would like to kill
             the driver of the pickup.

                       MR. BROOKS
                 (to Mr. Smith)
             What about the driver of the
             pickup? What if we killed him?

                       MR. SMITH
             Oh, fuck, yes!! I've always wanted
             to kill someone who fucked with me
             in traffic.

The PICKUP makes a right onto a side street. Mr. Brooks
follows.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Do you want to kill the driver of
             the pickup or the owner, they may
             not be the same.

                       MR. SMITH

             The driver.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Okay we'll follow until we get a
             look at him, or her; would it
             bother you to kill a woman?

                       MR. SMITH
             No. An asshole's an asshole.

Mr. Brooks begins to slow down.

                       MR. SMITH
             What are you doing?

                       MR. BROOKS
             The asshole shouldn't know we've
             decided to follow him, or her.


EXT. FOUR STORY APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT

Detective Atwood is on her way out the Outer Door when the
hair on the back of her neck stands on end.



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                          50.
CONTINUED:


Footsteps can be heard running toward her through the rain.

Her hand goes under her jacket and comes out holding a Glock
9mm.

She sidesteps out of the light into the grayness at the edge
of the doorway.

Now she sees the RUNNER. A hood hides the face. She can't
tell if it's a Man or a Woman.

Detective Atwood thumbs the Glock's safety to the 'off'
position.

The Runner passes, white breath coming from an unseen mouth.

She waits while the Figure recedes, then with the gun still
in hand she fishes into a pocket for a cell phone and heads
in the opposite direction.

A finger speedials a number. After a second ring a:

                          MALE VOICE
                    (answers)
             Yes?

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD

                 (puts the phone to her
                  ear)
             It's Tracy. Can you carve out some
             time for me tonight?... I'll be
             home in an hour and a half. I'll
             see you there.

The phone is shut, the umbrella unfurled and the darkness
swallows her up.

EXT. MINI MART Ñ NIGHT

The neutral-colored Pickup is parked in front. The DRIVER
gets out.

INT. TOYOTA Ñ NIGHT

It has stopped at the curb just beyond the Entrance to the
Mini-Mart parking lot.

Mr. Brooks and Mr. Smith watch the DRIVER come around the
front of another car before entering the store.

The light reveals the Driver to be a tall middle-age preppie
guy with close cropped dark hair and dark-rimmed glasses.


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        51.
CONTINUED:


                       MR. BROOKS

             Would you recognize him if you saw
             his driver's license picture?

                       MR. SMITH
             Yeah.

                       MR. BROOKS
             I've memorized the license number,
             you write it down. When you get
             home go on the Internet and find
             out everything you can about this
             guy.

                       MR. SMITH
             We aren't going to kill him
             tonight?

                       MR. BROOKS
             No. We could, but then we wouldn't
             be in control. We could leave loose
             ends, and we both know the danger
             of that.


                       MR. SMITH
                 (squints at the Pickup's
                  license)
             I got it.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Look at me.

Mr. Smith does.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Close your eyes. What's the number?

                       MR. SMITH
             VF... eh...

Mr. Smith opens his eyes and grins sheepishly.

                       MR. BROOKS

             Don't feel bad, I've been doing
             this a long time...
                 (he points to a holder on
                  the dash)
             Pen, paper. Write it down.

                       MR. SMITH
                 (copying the number)
             What was your first time?


                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        52.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    MR. BROOKS
          You really don't want to know that
          much about me, Mr. Smith.


INT. INDOOR POOL Ñ NIGHT

The lane lines are in place.

Detective Atwood is the only one in the water. Up and down
she goes with a long smooth stroke flipping the turns. She's
not swimming for pleasure, she's working out.

The underwater lights cast rippling shadows on the walls and
ceiling and since they are the only illumination, the room
feels spooky.

Atwood's fingers touch the wall. She raises her head to check
her time, then takes off her goggles.

Hanging onto the gutter she tries to catch her breath, lowers
herself under the surface, blows a lungful of bubbles, comes
up to face LARRY, a Man slightly younger than she is, in a
beautiful suit, perched on the edge of the deck looking down
at her.

He has a dress on a hangar over one shoulder and a pair of
shoes dangling from the fingers of his other hand.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Hi.

                     LARRY
          Hi. I brought a dress and a pair of
          shoes. I thought we could leave
          from here.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Great idea.

She lifts herself to him and they kiss.

INT. EXCLUSIVE SUPPER CLUB Ñ NIGHT


Detective Atwood and Larry are at a balcony table overlooking
a well-populated dance floor. The Music is 40's and 50's
performed by a live BAND.

                    LARRY
          ... I gave him my driver's license,
          my student ID, he didn't look
          anything like me, luckily they
          never checked.


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                          53.
CONTINUED:


                        DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I did something like that except I
             was the one who took the test. It
             wasn't math, a friend of mine was a
             theology major and needed a second
             language to get into the Master's
             program...


                       LARRY
             She started her career in theology
             with a lie?!

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Isn't that what all theology is
             based on?

                       LARRY
             Did you pass the test?

                          DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Oh yeah...

                       LARRY

             Don't tell me she ended up as
             Mother Teresa or the Pope.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             No, she realized very quickly there
             wasn't enough money in religion for
             her, the last I heard she'd written
             a diet book that was very
             successful.

                       LARRY
             She stayed in religion.

Atwood smiles, her fingers find Larry's and they intertwine.

The view floats over the balcony.

As it slowly drops, the PEOPLE on the dance floor, Couple by
Couple, disappear until there are only three Couples left,
one of them is Atwood and Larry. Her head is on his shoulder.

It's a slow dance.

Larry is very good and wherever he leads, Atwood easily
follows. The lights begin to dim and we move in.

Larry touches his lips to Atwood's neck. She arches back and
he kisses her neck again and again.



                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                           54.
CONTINUED: (2)


His lips move up and find hers, and we are now close on the
kiss. Gently the lips separate and we slowly retreat.

Looking into her eyes, Larry traces her lips with a finger,
then replaces that finger with his tongue.

His lips brush a cheek, down her neck to where it meets her
shoulder, his teeth close softly on the muscle, by now we are
far enough away to realize that Atwood and Larry have no
clothes on and we are:

INT. HALLWAY - DETECTIVE ATWOOD'S CONDOMINIUM Ñ NIGHT

What light there is, is coming from a room we can't see.

Larry nibbles at Atwood collarbone, kisses a breast, strokes
his hands down her sides. She shivers. He brushes his lips
back and forth across her stomach and then down to where the
flesh of her belly meets her pubic hair.

She's watching all of this in a mirror on the opposite wall.

Then he sinks to his knees and buries his head between her
legs. From low in her throat, Atwood moans. We lose sight of
the Couple as we move around a corner.

INT. BEDROOM Ñ DETECTIVE ATWOOD'S CONDOMINIUM - NIGHT

It's dark. Atwood is propped up against the headboard, the
sheet pulled up over her breasts.

The door to the BATHROOM opens. Larry dressed in his suit,
minus the tie, comes out, kneels on the bed and kisses her.

                    LARRY
          Thank you, this was wonderful.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          For me too.

                    LARRY

          I'll see you then?

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          I'd like that. The money is in the
          usual place.

                    LARRY
          It's not just the money, Tracy. I
          like you.




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        55.
CONTINUED:


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I like you too, Larry. Send me a
             bill for the dress and the shoes.

                       LARRY
             I will. Good-night.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Good-night.

EXT. MR. BROOKS' CERAMICS STUDIO Ñ NIGHT

The rain is muffled by the trees.

Move slowly toward the Building then up the side to peek
through the narrow window that circles just below the roof
line.

In the center of the room, the kiln relieves the darkness
with a yellow red glow whose rim touches a slash of white
light coming from under a door tucked in a corner.

INT. CERAMICS STUDIO Ñ NIGHT


We creep through the white light across the floor that's
littered with splashes of paint and smears of clay to the
office door and peer under it.

In front of us are chair casters and two bare feet and legs.

                       MARSHALL (O.S.)
             I think that was right. Go back.

                         MR. BROOKS (O.S.)
             We're in.

                       MARSHALL (O.S.)
             With the taxes we pay, you'd think
             they could make it more difficult
             to hack into the Police personnel
             files.

We tip toe under the door.

INT. OFFICE - CERAMICS STUDIO Ñ NIGHT

It's crammed with file cabinets. Sketches for pottery pieces
are taped to the walls along with photos of Mr. Brooks, Jane
and Emma.





                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        56.
CONTINUED:


Mr. Brooks, clad only in a T-shirt and underwear, is sitting
in front of a computer. Marshall, dressed as he usually is,
is in a chair at his side.

They are both staring at the monitor where on one side of the
screen is Detective Atwood's Police ID photo, on the other
side of the screen, Mr. Brooks is scrolling through her
personnel file.

                       MR. BROOKS
             .... Huh... her father's Gerald
             Atwood, why does that ring a bell?

                       MARSHALL
             Someone you did business with,
             someone we killed?


                       MR. BROOKS
             Not someone we killed... MBA...
             College of William and Mary...
             she's been a cop for eleven
             years... Married Doctor Carlson,
             divorced Dr. Carlson, married Jesse
             Vialo... restaurateur... separated
             from Jesse Vialo, sued for support
             by Jesse Vialo, seeing a shrink
             because of Jesse Vialo...

                       MARSHALL
             Excellent fitness report though.

                       MR. BROOKS
             She caught the Hangman, the guy
             that escaped the other day...

                       MARSHALL
             Oooh... She's caught a lot of
             people... And look here, this isn't
             the first time she's been hunting
             for us.

                       MR. BROOKS

             I wonder what the deal was with her
             and Jesse Vialo?

Mr. Brooks taps a key that minimizes Atwood's file then drags
it to the right hand corner. In the middle of a key stroke it
hits him:




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                          57.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    MR. BROOKS
          Ahhhh... now I remember. Her
          father, Gerald Atwood, never did
          business with him but Emma and I
          met him a couple times, big
          political fundraiser. He owns or
          owned one of the largest insurance
          groups in the country and a lot of
          other stuff.

Tap, tap, tap. Jesse Vialo's Driver's license comes up.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Jesse Vialo... Good looking, a
          little younger than she is.


                    MARSHALL
          Younger, restaurateur...
              (snorts)
          She married him on the rebound from
          the doctor and I'll bet he married
          her for her money and her
          connections.

                    MR. BROOKS
          The old man being rich doesn't mean
          she's rich. Maybe he's one of those
          guys who would rather give it to
          the Opera than to his kids.

                    MARSHALL
          Wouldn't she have to declare any
          outside income and holdings to the
          Police?

                    MR. BROOKS
          Hmmm...

He restores Atwood's file. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Stop. The Men
study the screen then look at each other.

                    MR. BROOKS

          The Opera didn't get much.

                    MARSHALL
          Why would a woman with her
          education and worth 60 plus million
          dollars and probably more to come,
          want to be a cop?

                    MR. BROOKS
          I like that about her.


                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        58.
CONTINUED: (3)


                    MARSHALL
          You're such a fucking snob, Earl.
          You like her because she's rich.

                    MR. BROOKS
          No, I like her because she found
          something that's hers. It's not the
          family business. And she's good at
          it. I'd like Jane to find something
          that's hers and that she could be
          good at.

                    MARSHALL
          That's exactly why Atwood scares
          the shit out of me. She's a cop who
          doesn't need the money and she's
          looking for us. That's one fucking
          dangerous human being.

                    MR. BROOKS
          The fact that you're not wrong
          doesn't make me admire her any
          less.


INT. SUBURBAN STARBUCKS Ñ MORNING

At a table the Asian Attorney is going over a brief. There
are two foamy coffees in to-go cups in front of her.
Detective Atwood arrives at the table.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Hi...

She reaches out, the Women shake hands.

                    ASIAN ATTORNEY
          Hi. I got you a Latte.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
              (sitting)
          Thanks and thanks for meeting me
          here.

                    ASIAN ATTORNEY

          We got an injunction to quash the
          subpoena for your work records
          yesterday. They've already
          appealed.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          That doesn't help me does it?



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        59.
CONTINUED:


                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             Your father has a lot of political
             muscle.


                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             My father does nothing for nothing.

                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             I understand. If you're willing to
             play the game and ride a desk for a
             year; I think we can settle for one
             two five, one five.

                         DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             No desk.

                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             Then the only other option is
             money. Tell me how high you are
             willing to go.

                         DETECTIVE ATWOOD

             One five.

                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             I can try. If I were on the other
             side I'd hold out for more.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             How much more?

                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             Give me a cap and that's how high
             we'll go.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Try and get a number out of them
             first. I want to know what ballpark
             I'm playing in and if it's a lump
             sum, is it less than something
             that's paid in installments.


                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             I'll call them today.

Atwood stands up with her coffee.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I'd like to get this done as soon
             as possible.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        60.
CONTINUED: (2)


The Asian Attorney also stands and gathering her papers and
coffee.


                    ASIAN ATTORNEY
          Are you working on the Thumbprint
          Killer this time?

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Yeah.

                    ASIAN ATTORNEY
          That one's creepy to me. The doors
          are locked, the alarms are armed
          and the people are dead. It makes
          you feel like you're not safe
          anywhere.

Atwood nods and opens the front door then follows the
Attorney out.

EXT. SUBURBAN STARBUCKS Ñ MORNING

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Where are you parked?


                    ASIAN ATTORNEY
          I'm right over there.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          I'm down the street. Call me as
          soon as you have something.

She starts to walk away.

                    ASIAN ATTORNEY
          Oh, Tracy... I almost forgot, your
          husband says there's a picture of
          him holding some trophy that you
          still have.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          He took all those pictures. He took
          everything.

                    ASIAN ATTORNEY

          He claims it's his favorite picture
          and you put it up where you store
          your suitcases.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          I'll look.



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                           61.
CONTINUED:


                       ASIAN ATTORNEY
             I know it's petty, but you're going
             through a divorce.


EXT. SIDEWALK Ñ MORNING

Atwood strides toward her car. The PEDESTRIAN traffic is
light. It's too early for the stores to be open.

Up ahead a BROWN VAN is idling at the curb, the sliding side
door is open. Atwood can see inside. Empty except for some
furniture blankets.

The Person in the Driver's seat turns to look into the back.
It's the Woman who was watching Atwood outside the Murder
House. Her hands are unseen in leather gloves.

She looks up and their eyes meet. Two strangers. The contact
is instantly broken.

Atwood takes a deep breath and smiles. After the rain, the
air is brisk and clean. It's good to be alive.

SLAM!!! Atwood is body-checked by a Man who springs out of
the recess of a doorway. His arms wrap around her, she's
lifted off her feet and the Man throws himself and her into
the Van.

INT. BROWN VAN - MORNING

Oooff!! The wind is knocked out of Atwood when she lands left
shoulder first on the furniture blankets, the Man on top of
her.

The Man is Thorton Meeks, the Hangman, six feet, a solid two
hundred pounds. He's also wearing tight leather gloves.

EXT. STREET Ñ MORNING

The Brown Van accelerates fast away from the curb.

INT. BROWN VAN Ñ MORNING

His body crushing hers, Meeks kisses Atwood's cheek.

                       MEEKS
             Surprise, surprise, Tracy. I told
             you I was coming back to get you.

He frees his right hand and pulls his gun.




                                                     (CONTINUED)


                                                         62.
CONTINUED:


                       MEEKS
             I already know where I'm gonna hang
             you. But first I'm gonna watch
             her...
                 (indicates the Driver)
             ... have some fun with you, then
             she's gonna watch me have some fun
             with you.

He kisses her again and puts the gun to Atwood's head.

                       MEEKS
             Now, don't move.

He raises up and straddles her.

                       MEEKS
             You know the drill, I'm gonna put
             the cuffs on.

With his left hand he fishes a pair of handcuffs from a back
pocket and snaps them on Atwood's right wrist.


                       MEEKS
             Now the left.

He rolls Atwood on her back and with the chain of the
handcuff pulls her right arm toward her left.

All Meeks' talk has allowed Atwood to catch her breath and
suddenly she jerks her head up into the gun and screams at
the top of her lungs.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             SHOOT ME!!!

At the same time she pulls hard against the handcuff with her
right wrist. A startled Meeks is thrown off balance. The gun
comes away from Atwood's head.

Her left arm now free, Atwood swings her palm with all of her
might into Meeks' right ear. POP!! His eardrum breaks.

Aaaggh!! He instinctually reaches to cover the damaged ear
with his gun hand.

The Driver doubles around to see what's happening. From
outside, HOONNNKK!! The Driver's attention returns to the
road.




                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        63.
CONTINUED: (2)


Atwood swings again. This time she snags the barrel of the
gun and using it as a lever bends Meeks' hand back on the
wrist.

BLAM! The gun goes off. Neither one of them is hit.

At the same time Atwood pulls hard on the handcuff that Meeks
is holding in his left hand and twists into him. This
dislodges Meeks and he's off of her.

Snarling like animals they fight for the gun.

CRACK! Atwood's leverage breaks Meeks' trigger finger. His
grip loosens on the weapon. She pulls it out of his hand.

A quick push skitters it across the floor. It drops through
the open side door into the street.

Atwood rolls away and reaches for her ankle gun. Now it's
Meeks' turn. A sharp tug on the chain of the handcuff stalls
her motion.

He flicks his other arm and a switchblade is delivered into
his right hand. Snap!! The blade comes out. Atwood is
reaching again for her ankle gun. She sees the flash of metal
and flings her head back.

Luckily all she receives is a deep gash above her right eye.
Blood immediately begins to cascade over her brow.

Meeks grins and gives another sharp tug on the handcuff to
pull Atwood into the range of his knife.

With one foot Atwood kicks at him, with the other she pushes
off and propels herself backward to grab a handful of the
Driver's hair.

Atwood's weight hinges the Driver's head back until she's
looking at the ceiling. Her scream is equal parts pain and
surprise.

EXT. STREET Ñ MORNING

The Brown Van veers into the on-coming traffic. The Driver of
the car dead ahead swerves. The Van solidly clips the rear of
that car.

INT. BROWN VAN - MORNING

The sudden deceleration of that impact slingshots Atwood and
Meeks forward. She hits the back of the Driver's seat.



                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                         64.
CONTINUED:


Meeks has further to go. He loses his hold on the handcuffs
and smashes into the passenger seat.

Her right hand now free, Atwood scratches for the gun on her
hip.


EXT. STREET Ñ MORNING

Careening across its lane, the Van sideswipes a parked car.

INT. BROWN VAN Ñ MORNING

That impact rips Atwood's hand out of the Driver's hair and
sends her sliding on her knees toward the side door.

On her way she unclips her gun and is bringing it out of her
holster when Meeks who has managed to hang onto the passenger
seat sees this and slams a foot into her chest.

Atwood is launched backward out the side door.

EXT. STREET Ñ MORNING

In slow motion Atwood flies through the air while at normal
speed the Van is leaving her behind.

SMASH! Butt first, Atwood hammers into the back window of a
parked car. The shattering glass breaks her fall.

Groggily she rolls out of the indentation. Gun still in hand
and blood covering one side of her face she slides off the
car to stand in the street.

The Van is nowhere in sight.

INT. EMERGENCY ROOM Ñ DAY

Captain Lister is watching a DOCTOR sew up the gash on
Detective Atwood's forehead.

                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             We found the van in an underground
             lot about two miles from where they
             left you. It was stolen last night.

Detective Snyder comes in and hands a packet of photographs
to Atwood.

                       SNYDER

             These are the women we have
             pictures of who know Meeks.



                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                         65.
CONTINUED:


                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             Meeks and the Woman, none of the
             Attendants remember seeing them.

As Detective Atwood begins to go through the pictures.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             That chiropractor, Alvin Griffin,
             who sold Meeks his steroids, he
             might know where he is.


                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             His phone's been tapped since Meeks
             escaped. No contact that way so far
             and he's sure not going to talk to
             us.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             What about a warrant to search his
             house? Get me in the door and he'll
             talk to me.

                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             How's your divorce going?

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             I took your advice and told my
             lawyer to settle.

Stretching out her arm to return the photos:

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD

             None of these is the woman in the
             van.

                       DOCTOR
             Whoa... I'm sewing up your head
             here.

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             Sorry.

                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             And your ego can handle that?

                       DETECTIVE ATWOOD
             It doesn't like any of the other
             choices.


                       CAPTAIN LISTER
             Until Meeks is caught, Snyder is
             with you.


                                                   (CONTINUED)

                                                        66.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          Nothing personal, Snyder.
              (to Lister)
          He's not part of our team.

                    CAPTAIN LISTER

          He's there to protect you. And
          listen to him, he's been alive
          longer than you have.

                    SNYDER
          I didn't volunteer for this,
          Atwood.

                    CAPTAIN LISTER
          The Parking Lot has a security
          camera. We're checking the tape. If
          Meeks and the Woman left in a car
          we'll have a license number. You
          have two days then I want a
          progress report on your divorce.

                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
          I think I have all the pieces on
          the Thumbprint Killer, I'm just not
          looking at them the right way.

                    CAPTAIN LISTER
          Okay, you have three days.

She leaves.


                    DETECTIVE ATWOOD
              (smiles sweetly at Snyder)
          Every babysitter I ever had loved
          me.

EXT. DRUG STORE PARKING LOT Ñ NIGHT

In the scattering of vehicles Mr. Brooks' Toyota is hidden in
plain sight in a row of cars.

INT. TOYOTA Ñ NIGHT

Behind the wheel, Mr. Brooks is again wearing his Pottery-
Throwing clothes. Mr. Smith is in the passenger seat and
Marshall is leaning forward from the back.

They're all focused to varying degrees on the Entrance to the
store. Mr. Smith raises his watch for a look at the time.




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                        67.
CONTINUED:


                       MR. SMITH
             Maybe he went home with someone
             else.

                       MR. BROOKS
             Can you still see his pickup?

Mr. Smith looks.

                       MR. SMITH
             Uh huh.

                       MR. BROOKS
             This is not the kind of guy who
             leaves his pickup in an unguarded
             Lot overnight.

The silence returns.

All three Men idly observe an old green Pontiac convertible
with a frayed top and paint peeling, come into the Lot and
park two spaces away facing them. We saw this car last
watching Atwood from outside the Murder House.

The headlights go off.

The Driver's door opens. The Woman who was with Meeks in the
Van steps out and hurries toward the Drug Store.

She of course means nothing to Mr. Brooks but in the brief
seconds the domelight is on, he catches sight of the Man in
the passenger seat. A memory tickles his brain.

He turns to Marshall.


                       MR. BROOKS
             Where do we know that guy from?

                       MARSHALL
             You really should pay more
             attention to what you read, Earl.

                       MR. BROOKS
             That's what I have you for,
             Marshall.

                       MARSHALL
             His picture was on the front page
             of the paper a couple days ago
             because he escaped from jail. He's
             the killer they call the Hangman.



                                                  (CONTINUED)


                                                           68.
CONTINUED: (2)


                    MR. BROOKS
          Ahh...

                    MARSHALL
          Remember that cop you like, Atwood,
          who's chasing us, she's the one who
          put him away. I think his name is
          Thorton Meeks.

Mr. Brooks cocks his head at the vague outline of Meeks.

                    MR. BROOKS
          Well, well, well... What would life
          be without surprises?

Mr. Smith who, remember, cannot hear or see Marshall,
straightens up.


                    MR. SMITH
          There he is!

The Man they are waiting for is coming down the steps of the
store. On the way to his Pickup he takes off a Manager's
smock.

                    MR. SMITH
          You know what's weird? I'll bet he
          has all these plans of what he's
          going to do tonight and tomorrow
          and he doesn't know he will already
          be dead and won't be able to do any
          of them.

Mr. Brooks nods absently. The Drug Store Manager arrives at
his truck.

                    MR. BROOKS
          I don't think I want to kill this
          guy.

                    MR. SMITH
          What?! But you promised we would!

Marshall smiles.

                    MARSHALL

          Oh, I love what you're thinking.

                    MR. BROOKS
          You have no idea what I'm thinking.




                                                  (CONTINUED)

                                                         69.
CONTIN