|
TITLE SEQUENCE
As the credits run, we INTERCUT the following two sequences:
EXT. NEVADA DESERT - IDOLS - DAY
A SLOW DRIFT through a collection of crudely constructed,
surreal, six-foot tall "IDOLS." Like modern
demons.
Grotesque. Disturbing. WE LAP DISSOLVE between details of
their twisted anatomies: headlamp eyes, bright metal claws,
broken glass teeth.
EXT. NEVADA ROADS - DESERT - DAY
Two vehicles, one a Volkswagen "bus" decorated with stylized
flames, the other a '66 Thunderbird, speeding along a series
of eerily empty desert roads, somewhere in a wilderness of
sand and heat.
END CREDITS.
CUT WIDE TO;
EXT. NEVADA DESERT - DAY
A violent WIND HOWLS around, but through the sand we-can just
make out a large, ominous building: the HOUSE of William
Nix. Its walls are white-washed and scrawled with GRAFFITI.
The "family" of IDOLS surrounds the doorway, guarding it. ON
SCREEN, the words: '"Nevada - Thirteen Years Ago"
EXT. NIX'S HOUSE - DAY
We're at the front door now, which stands open. Leaning
against the door-frame is a scrawny, wild-eyed YOUTH, about
sixteen. His name is BUTTERFIELD. He's got a brooding,
almost sultry look on his face. One of his eyes is black,
the other milky blue. He's whittling something with a
scalpel. Distantly, the sound of CAR ENGINES. Butterfield
narrows his eyes.
BUTTERFIELD'S P.O.V.
The Volkswagen "bus" and Thunderbird are approaching the
house.
BUTTERFIELD
(softly)
Swann...?
He turns from the door. In his haste he drops the WOOD he's
whittling. He's been carving a DEATH'S HEAD.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - ROOMS AND CORRIDORS - DAY
The house no longer serves any domestic function. It has
become the temple and dormitory of Nix's small apocalyptic
cult. As we go through the house with Butterfield we glimpse
a little of what life here is like.
The rooms are murky, and chaotic. The walls, PAINTED with
scenes of cities and landscapes BURNING, and creatures from
some unspeakable nightmare ATTACKING, RAPING, and DEVOURING
helpless humanity. The atmosphere is joyless, and
oppressive.
The passages become progressively darker as the boy makes his
way to the heart of the house. Only OIL LAMPS, set on the
floor, light these claustrophobic corridors.
BUTTERFIELD
Master?
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - MEDITATION ROOM - DAY
A dozen CULTISTS sit cross-legged on the floor in front of
their leader, WILLIAM NIX. His black hair grows to his
shoulders. His eyes are deep and glittering, his voice
seductive. A terrifying yet charismatic presence.
All the Cultists - who are a cross-section of obsessives -
wear the same simple T-shirts, painted with the cult's SIGIL.
They watch Nix in adoration.
As Nix speaks, he juggles a FLAME, passing it from hand to
hand with casual ease...
NIX
And the fire said to me: Nix, Nix,
you're my instrument. From now on,
you'll be called the Puritan...
CULTISTS
(murmuring)
Puritan...
NIX You will find a few good men and women, and together,
together you will cleanse the world.
CULTISTS
Yes...
Butterfield enters.
BUTTERFIELD
Master?
Nix looks up.
BUTTERFIELD
Swann's here.
Nix rises, smiling.
NIX
(to Cultists)
We'll come back to this. Get about
your business.
As the Cultists disperse, Nix and Butterfield exit into
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
A place of nightmares. Hanging from the middle of the ceiling
is another grotesque SCULPTURE, three times the bulk of a
large man, and made of metal, fly-blown animal parts and
knotted rope. It is vaguely cruciform, but its swaying,
creaking bulk is not even faintly Christian. It is a
perverse, sickening image, evoking insanity and agony.
From the shadows in the corner, we hear a young girl's soft
SOBBING.
NIX
Hush...
Nix goes to the GIRL. She is twelve; beautiful, blonde, and
presently in a state of mortal fear. She sits, bound, in a
fetal position, her face soaked with SWEAT and TEARS, her
mouth BLOODIED, her cheek BRUISED.
NIX
I said hush.
GIRL
Please. Let me go.
From the opposite corner the SCREECH of Nix's pet BABOON.
Nix goes to it. The animal is large and lethal.
NIX
(to Baboon)
What is it?
The Baboon pulls on its chain, staring at the Girl and baring
its teeth as it screeches.
NIX
(to Girl)
I think he's in love.
He unshackles the Baboon. The animal pads toward the Girl,
trailing its chain.
GIRL
Keep it away from me.
Nix catches hold of its chain. Holds it back. The Baboon
starts screeching again, scrabbling at the Girl, its NAILS
catching her arms and legs, drawing BLOOD.
GIRL
Please... please...
Nix watches her terror dispassionately.
BUTTERFIELD
(also watching, wide-
eyed)
Want me to shoot Swann?
NIX
You don't like him, do you?
BUTTERFIELD
He wants your magic.
NIX
Maybe. Go fetch him.
Butterfield exits. Nix advances on the Girl.
GIRL
What are you going to do?
CUT TO:
EXT. NIX'S HOUSE - DESERT - DAY
The two vehicles come to a halt outside Nix's house.
From the Thunderbird steps PHILIP SWANN, a nineteen- year-old
with shoulder-length hair and brilliant blue eyes. He's not
conventionally handsome, but he's certainly striking.
From the passenger seat steps CASPAR QUAID, a black man,
studious and intense. From the bus emerges MURRAY PIMM,
skinny and jittery, and JENNIFER DESIDERIO, a woman with a
steely gaze.
SWANN
(to all three)
Are we ready?
JENNIFER
(cool)
Say the word.
PIMM
(very nervous)
Look, maybe we should think this over.
On Swann, as he brings from his car three very bizarre pieces
of METALWORK. We get only a tantalizing glimpse of them, as
he slips them into his pocket.
SWANN
No. He's gone too far.
PIMM
So he took a child.
JENNIFER
He'll kill her.
PIMM
No he won't.
SWANN
(determined)
He's not going to get the chance.
Quaid checks a gun, then slips it into his belt.
QUAID
If he gets in our fucking heads he'll drive us crazy.
SWANN
So stay out here.
Swann starts towards the House. Jennifer is the first to
follow, with the other two on her heels.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - HALLWAY - DAY
Butterfield comes to the door, as Swann steps inside.
BUTTERFIELD
He's expecting you.
Behind Swann, Quaid and Pimm exchange nervous looks.
SWANN
(to others)
Look around. If you find 'the
child, yell. She's got blonde
hair, that's all I know.
Butterfield turns away, smiling to himself. Swann follows
him.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - "MEDITATION" ROOM - DAY
Quaid looks into a large circular room where FIVE CULTISTS
(three men and two women) still sit. One of the women is
breast-feeding a baby.
1ST MAN
Hey, Quaid. I thought you said you
weren't coming back.
QUAID
I changed my mind.
1ST WOMAN
Come and join us.
She smiles a crazy smile. Reaches out for Quaid. A SNAKE
appears from around the back of her neck. Quaid recoils.
And now we see that there are snakes everywhere. In the
Cultists' clothes and hair. Even on the baby. Quaid turns
away. And - shock! - there's a SNAKE on the door frame,
winding around his hand. He strikes it to the ground, and
drives his heel down on its head.
SNAKE-HANDLER CULTIST
(angry)
Don't do that!
The Snake-Handler gets up. Quaid retreats from the door.
Snake-Handler picks up the dead snake and, lifting it above
his head, dribbles its BLOOD onto his face.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE -
"BEDROOM" - DAY
Jennifer enters a gloomy room. She goes to a mattress where
a BLONDE GIRL lies with her bare back to us.
JENNIFER
Don't be afraid.
The Blonde Girl, BARBARA, turns over. She has a dirty cloth
pressed to a wound between her breasts. It is not the Girl,
of course. She stares up at Jennifer, clearly drugged.
BARBARA
I'm not... want to see?
She pulls the cloth away. She has carved the cult SIGIL into
her FLESH. The BLOODY KNIFE lies beside her. Jennifer
retreats to the door, and exits back out into --
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY - DAY
Pimm is standing against the wall, clutching a CRUCIFIX. He
is ashen with terror. Jennifer snatches the crucifix from
his white-knuckled fingers.
PIMM
He's going to kill us all...
JENNIFER
Where did Swann go?
Pimm points down the passageway towards Nix's room.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY OUTSIDE NIX'S SANCTUM - DAY
Swann wipes sweat from his upper lip, then reaches down to
his belt, to check the GUN tucked out of sight at his side.
He turns the door handle.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
Swann steps inside. Nix's chair has its back to him. The
folds of Nix's robe are visible, however. Swann hears a
muffled SOBBING from the far side of the room.
On the Girl, now gagged and lying amongst bones and filth.
Swann starts towards her, his footsteps barely audible. As
he approaches the chair - the Baboon leaps at him screeching!
He reaches for his gun. The chair topples. The Baboon, half
dressed in Nix's robes, bounds towards Swann.
Swann FIRES at it. The bullet blasts off half its head.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY - DAY
On Quaid, who draws his GUN as three CULTISTS appear in the
passageway that leads to Nix's Sanctum.
QUAID
Stay the fuck away!
(yells)
Pimm! Get over here!
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
PAN UP from the twitching Baboon corpse to Swann as he
struggles with the Girl's gag. He has laid his gun on the
ground beside her.
SWANN
You're going to be okay.
Out of focus, behind him, the cruciform sculpture swings
round. Nix is hanging on it, like an idol on a grotesque
altarpiece.
The Girl sees Nix over Swann's shoulder. Terror crosses her
face. Swann turns.
NIX
I knew you'd come.
He reaches down to Swann.
NIX
I've got so much power to give
you, Swann. All you have to do
is...beg.
SWANN
Fuck you.
NIX
You don't think I've got it to
give?
SWANN
No!
Suddenly. Nix swoops down on Swann. apparently defying
gravity.
NIX
You're wrong.
He catches hold of Swann with one hand and drives him back
against the wall.
NIX
I could eat your fucking soul,
Swann.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY - DAY
Jennifer, reaches the door of the Sanctum. Butterfield steps
from the shadows. His KNIFE flashes as it strikes Jennifer's
hand. BLOOD SPURTS.
JENNIFER
Fuck!
She retreats, staunching her bleeding hand.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
Nix has Swann trapped against the wall and is working his
fingers against Swann's temples. Working, working, like a
psychic surgeon plying against the belly of a patient.
NIX
You want to know what the world
really looks like?
Swann struggles, but he can't get free of Nix's hold.
And now -- horribly -- Nix's fingers slide beneath the skin
of Swann's temples, without a drop of blood being spilt.
NIX
Want to see flesh with a god's
eyes?
Swann SCREAMS as Nix's mind-hold seizes him.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY - DAY
Quaid levels his gun at Butterfield, who is guarding the
Sanctum door. Jennifer is at Quaid's side.
SWANN (V.O.)
Aah!
QUAID
Get away from the door!
Butterfield shakes his head. Quaid FIRES. The bullet.
strikes the wall beside Butterfield's head. He retreats,
growling like a rabid animal. Quaid kicks the Sanctum door
open, and enters.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
QUAID
Swann?
NIX
(to Quaid)
Here he is.
Swann stumbles into the middle of the room, the whites of his
eyes blood-red.
NIX
Take a look, Swann! These are your
friends.
On Swann, reeling like a drunkard as he looks up at Quaid and
Jennifer.
JENNIFER (V.O.)
What have you done to him?
SWANN'S P.O.V.
of Quaid and Jennifer. To Swann's eyes, their faces seem to
be MORPHING. Their humanity is MELTING AWAY. What's left is
like a jellyfish with black, soulless eyes: PRIMEVAL MUCK.
QUAID (V.O.)
Swann. It's okay.
Quaid reaches for Swann, who retreats in horror, shaking his
head violently.
SWANN
Don't touch me. He's got... got
into my head.
NIX
You want to be like that, Swann?
Mud and shit?
Swann turns away from Quaid and Jennifer in disgust.
SWANN'S P.O.V.
of Nix, his arms outstretched in welcome. His face has an
aura of pulsing light.
NIX
Come here. Share the power.
ON a GUN, leveled. .We don't see by whom. The trigger is
pulled.
The bullet strikes Nix's back and explodes out of his chest.
ON SWANN, staring at Nix.
SWANN'S P.O.V. of Nix, as the aura of light dies.
Just for a moment - a terrible moment - Swann glimpses
something else. MORPHING out of Nix's features. A NIGHTMARE
FACE with waves of DARKNESS emanating from the middle of its
forehead.
Swann covers his eyes.
NIX
(raging, terrifying)
Swann! Swann!
Nix staggers, letting out an ungodly HOWL, and drops to his
knees, clutching the WOUND. As he falls, he reveals the
ashen Girl, who is still holding Swann's smoking GUN.
NIX
(a roar)
Help me!
Swann shakes his head, ridding himself of Nix's mind-
control.
SWANN
Jesus-
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY OUTSIDE SANCTUM - DAY
Pinon stands guard, his gun pointed on several cultists.
1ST CULTIST
(with distressing
confidence)
You can't kill him.
2ND CULTIST
He'll just rise up again!
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
On Nix, doing just that: rising up. Right hand clamped to
his bloody chest, left hand reaching for Swann.
NIX
Help me!
Quaid FIRES at him again. Strikes his shoulder. And again.
Strikes his leg. Nix collapses to the ground,
JENNIFER
Quickly!
They have come prepared for this. Swann now takes from his
jacket the three strange pieces of METALWORK. There are
SCREWS in then all.
NIX
(seeing)
Swann? What are you doing?
SWANN
Binding you.
He clamps one of the pieces over Nix's EYES. It fits like an
eyeless mask. Nix thrashes and SCREAMS. Swann lays his
hands on the side of the mask, and — LIKE MAGIC -- his touch
makes the screws tighten of their own accord, grinding into
Nix's flesh and bone with a gut- wrenching SOUND. BLOOD runs
from the screw-holes.
NIX
Fuck you, Swann! Fuck you!
Now the second piece, over his MOUTH.
NIX
Sw—
He's silenced. The piece screws itself into-his head, like
the first. And now comes the third and final piece: over
the nose and into the ears. Again, it screws itself into
place.
Swann has done all he can. He retreats from Nix's body, as
it continues to convulse. We go from face to ashen face, as
each man and woman watches and waits. Why won't he die?
And now, at last the violence of Nix's death-throes
diminishes. Nix's body bends like a bow, arching off the
ground, and with one last, terrible spasm, he dies.
GIRL
(quietly)
Is it finished?
SWANN
It's finished.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY - DAY
The Cultists' faces slacken, as though some mental hold Nix
had upon them has disappeared. Then they start to retreat,
their confidence and courage gone.
Pimm steps into the Sanctum.
INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY
The five assassins, including the Girl, stand around Nix's
body. Swann has his arm around the Girl.
PIMM
Dead?
QUAID
Dead.
PIMM
What now?
SWANN
We bury him so deep no one will
ever find him.
CUT TO:
EXT. NIX'S .HOUSE - WIDE SHOT - DUSK
The wind has died away. It's eerily calm. Butterfield
dashes towards camera, then halts.
HE LOOKS BACK, as Nix's killers load his huge, limp CORPSE
into the back of Murray Pimm's bus.
ON Butterfield. He watches, with a feral look on his face.
FADE OUT
FADE IN
EXT. LOS ANGELES - MONTAGE - DAY
The city looks magical in the spring light, its palms and
gleaming towers, its rivers of sun-baked traffic, evoking
some fantastical metropolis. This, for all its smog and
congestion, is a city of exoticism and enchantments.
ON SCREEN, the words: "LOS ANGELES - THIRTEEN YEARS
LATER"
EXT. STARDUST HOTEL - DAY
The facade of this small HOTEL off Hollywood Boulevard needs
a lick of paint, and the neon sign is blinking fitfully, but
it has a certain charm.
INT. STARDUST HOTEL - LOBBY - DAY
A large deteriorating mural of Hollywoodland, depicting a
host of 50's movie stars, dominates the lobby.
At the front desk - with his back to us at present - stands
HARRY D'AMOUR. He is having difficulty getting the pretty
but vacant BLONDE at the reception desk to comprehend his
name.
BLONDE GIRL
How'd you spell that again?
HARRY
D.A.M.O.U.R. D'Amour. Harry
D'Amour.
BLONDE GIRL
D'Amour.
HARRY
Right.
BLONDE GIRL
Isn't that French for something?
ON THE BELLBOY, approaching Harry from the front door.
BELLBOY
Mister D'Amour?
HARRY
(to Blonde)
Yeah. It's French.
BLONDE GIRL
For love, right?
BELLBOY
Mister D'Amour?
HARRY
(to Blonde)
Right.
BLONDE GIRL
(grinning)
That's so cool.
BELLBOY
Mister D'Amour?
Harry turns. He's wearing a washed-out Grateful Dead t-
shirt, an Italian cut linen suit, and glasses. He's
handsome, unshaven, 35-ish, with an open easy smile.
HARRY
Yeah?
BELLBOY
You haven't paid the cab. He won't
give us your bags 'til you pay him.
HARRY
How much?
BELLBOY
Thirty-five bucks.
HARRY
Tell him he can keep them. The
Bellboy looks puzzled.
HARRY
Just kidding.
Harry gets out his wallet and hands over four ten-dollar
bills.
HARRY
I've got my life in there.
INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY
On the suit-case, which is now on the bed. Harry flings it
open. Inside, mingled with the clothes, a bizarre collection
of items, which he tosses out onto the coverlet. A GUN. A
CRUCIFIX. A STATUE of Shiva, the Hindu Lord of creation and
destruction.
ON HARRY, as he heads into the bathroom. Turns on the
shower. Starts to undress.
EXT. STARDUST HOTEL - DUSK
Harry, his hair still wet from his shower, steps out into the
sun. Squints. Puts on sunglasses.
HARRY
Hello, L.A.
BELLBOY
Have a nice evening, Mr. D'Amour.
HARRY
You bet.
EXT. MELROSE RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Harry stands, in a shabby doorway across the street from a
classy restaurant. It's RAINING.
ON TAPERT, a middle-aged, balding man with a very pretty
WOMAN opposite him, sitting at a table close to the window.
Tapert makes a joke (unheard). The woman laughs.
ON HARRY, chewing on a hamburger, as he speaks into his tape
recorder.
HARRY
Nine-eighteen p.m. Tapert's either
got a great sense of humour or he's
paying her to laugh.
(looks at hamburger in
disgust)
Jesus.
On Tapert, as he rises from the table.
HARRY
(into tape recorder)
He's finished.
Tapert exits the restaurant, and crosses the street. Harry
tosses his half-eaten hamburger away, and goes to his car.
EXT. HARRY'S CAR - MELROSE - NIGHT
Harry pulls the parking ticket off the windshield, screws it
up and gets in.
INT. HARRY'S CAR - MELROSE - NIGHT
HARRY
(into tape)
Nine twenty-six p.m. He's off
again.
He turns the key in the ignition.
CUT TO:
EXT. QUAID'S OFFICES - SILVERLAKE - NIGHT
In neon blue and purple, a sign blazes in a store window. It
reads: TAROT CARD AND CRYSTAL READINGS - $15 SPECIAL
ON TAPERT, as he hurries across the street, and through the
door beside the store window.
WE PAN OFF the door as Harry's car comes to a halt on the far
side of the street.
Harry gets out of the car. Stares at the sign in the window,
puzzled.
HARRY
Superstitious?
He starts across the street. Suddenly:
TAPERT (V.O.)
Oh my God!
Tapert emerges, his face white with terror. He stumbles to
his car, and he's away. Harry freezes, caught between the
need to follow Tapert and sheer curiosity. He gives in to the
latter, and steps inside.
INT. QUAID'S OFFICES - STAIRWELL - NIGHT
An illuminated ARROW points up the stairs. Harry ascends,
past faded PHOTOGRAPHS of Caspar Quaid with famous faces.
At the landing, the passageway turns ninety degrees. Harry
halts, and takes out his GUN.
There's a strange RUMBLING SOUND approaching from round the
corner. Harry chances a look. There's a short length of
passageway, leading to an open door. From the threshold a
CRYSTAL BALL rolls towards Harry, BLOOD- SMEARED. This is
the source of the rumbling. Harry stops the ball before it
falls down the stairs.
Dead silence. After a beat, Harry creeps towards the open
door. He pushes it open. Inside, chaos. The fake
antique
FURNITURE is splintered, the ASTRAL CHARTS slashed.
INT. QUAID'S OFFICES - WAITING ROOM - NIGHT
There are two offices. In the front, a Waiting Room, into
which Harry now steps. Beyond it, through a door that stands
narrowly ajar, the Fortune Telling Room.
From out of the Fortune Telling Room, a MOAN.
QUAID (V.O.)
Ahh. . .
Harry crosses the Waiting Room, reaching into his jacket for
his gun. Suddenly, a nightmarish FIGURE leaps from the
shadows.
His name is RAY MILLER. He's as crazy as a rabid dog, teeth
sharpened, eyes wild. Nix's SIGIL is tattooed on the middle
of his forehead. He STRIKES the GUN from Harry's hand and
goes for his throat.
Harry reaches out behind him, picks up a phrenologist's BUST
and SMASHES it on Miller's skull.
Miller reels back. Harry makes a dash for the door to the
Fortune Telling Room.
MILLER
Fuckhead.
INT. QUAID'S OFFICES - FORTUNE-TELLING ROOM - NIGHT
A mysterious, candle-lit space. In the middle of the room, a
table. At it sits Quaid. thirteen years older. He has been
tortured close to death. Several small SCALPELS protrude
from his chest and neck. His life is ebbing away. On the
table in front of him, a fan of TAROT CARDS, BLOOD-SPATTERED.
Harry races in through the open door from the Waiting Room.
HARRY
What the fuck!?
Harry picks up the PHONE. It's dead. Miller charges at the
door.
HARRY
Shit!
Harry SLAMS the door in Miller's face, and locks it.
As he does so, the candles FLICKER. Harry looks up. A
FIGURE looms from the darkness behind Quaid. He's in his
late twenties: an androgynous, disturbing sight. His long
hair is drawn back into a pony-tail. His mismatched eyes -
one black, one milky blue, tell us that he is Butterfield.
His hands are BLOODY, and he carries one last SCALPEL.
HARRY
(to Butterfield)
Don't touch him."
Butterfield strokes the wounds on Quaid's cheek. Quaid sobs
in pain.
BUTTERFIELD
What are you going to do about it?
Miller's hand tears at the wood around the lock from the
other side. His fingers appear, scrabbling to tear the lock
out. Harry doesn't move, or Miller will be through.
BUTTERFIELD
(to Harry)
Ever watched a man die? If you
watch very closely, you can
sometimes see the soul escaping.
And if you're very quick, you can
catch it.
QUAID
Please... Butterfield... I wasn't
there. Ask Pimm.
BUTTERFIELD
Pimm's dead. Jennifer Desiderio's
disappeared. They knew the Puritan
was coming home.
As this exchange goes on, Miller pulls the lock out of the
door and starts to THROW HIMSELF against it from the other
side. It's all Harry can do to keep himself from being
pitched across the room. He looks around for some means of
defense. There's a crack in the drapes to the left of the
table. Behind it a WINDOW.
BUTTERFIELD
So do you. You've seen the future.
Haven't you?
QUAID
Yes.
BUTTERFIELD
And are you afraid?
QUAID
Yes.
Suddenly, Harry steps aside. The door's flung open. Miller
CHARGES in. Harry catches hold of his arm, and THROWS him
against the drape. The window CRACKS; the drape comes down
around Miller. Amber STREETLIGHT floods in.
Butterfield is momentarily distracted. Harry STRIKES the
scalpel from his hands.
Miller, meanwhile, is struggling to free himself from the
folds of the drapes. Harry lands a solid KICK to the man's
belly. Miller is THROWN back against the cracked window,
which SHATTERS. Still wrapped in the drape, he FALLS OUT.
Harry turns back to arrest Butterfield, but he's already
making his escape. Harry starts after him.
QUAID
(to Harry)
Don't leave me.
He turns back. TEARS are pouring down the man's face. Harry
goes back to comfort Quaid, as Butterfield escapes down the
stairs.
HARRY
You need an ambulance.
QUAID
(in pain)
Too late. Why are you here? Did
you cone... up here for a reading?
Quaid takes hold of Harry's hand.
HARRY
NO ... I...
Quaid stares at Harry's HAND. Fascinated, he momentarily
forgets his pain. He traces the lines with bloody fingers.
QUAID
(quietly)
My God.
HARRY
What?
QUAID
You've taken some strange
journeys in your life.
HARRY
Yeah. You could say that.
QUAID
You're drawn to the dark side, over
and over. And it's drawn to you.
(looks at Harry)
You don't like that.
HARRY
Not much.
QUAID
You can't change it. You have to
walk...
(coughs)
...walk the line between Heaven and
Hell. It's your destiny. Accept
it.
Harry takes his hand from Quaid's grip. Quaid winces in
pain.
HARRY
Hold on.
QUAID
I'm not afraid to die. There's
something terrible... coming
home...
HARRY
The Puritan?
QUAID
Yes...
HARRY
Who is he?
Quaid shudders, and dies.
HARRY
(softly; sadly)
Shit.
He looks away, down at the CARDS. All have been turned over
but ONE. He turns it. The card is the Ten of Swords which
pictures a prostrate man against a thunderous sky, pierced by
all ten swords. An image of death and desolation.
EXT. QUAID'S OFFICES - ALLEY BEHIND BUILDING - NIGHT
The flashing LIGHTS of two patrol cars illuminate the scene.
DETECTIVE EDDISON, a surfer-turned-policeman with buzz-cut
blond hair, heads along the alley with Harry. He's midway
through taking Harry's statement. There are already two
OFFICERS examining the drapes. We can't yet see the body.
EDDISON
(to Harry)
What were you doing up there?
HARRY
I'm a private detective. I was
hired to follow somebody for a few
days. A guy called Tapert.
Insurance fraud.
EDDISON
(writing)
Tapert. So, now I've got Tapert,
Butterfield.
HARRY
Tapert's got nothing to do with
this. He came here to get his palm
read.
EDDISON
What makes you so sure?
HARRY
(shrugs)
I got a file on him two inches
thick. He's a petty fraudster.
This is something else. Ever heard
of someone called the Puritan?
EDDISON
New one on me.
(to Officer)
Okay. Let's see him.
OFFICER #l shakes his head, and opens up the drape. Broken
GLASS drops from the folds, but that's all. Miller has gone.
EDDISON
Where the fuck is he?
HARRY
He got up and walked.
EDDISON
(looking up at window)
After that fall?. He must have
broken half his bones.
WE MOVE IN ON HARRY, as he stares down at the drape.
HARRY
I don't think he'd have given a
shit.
CUT TO:
INT. BUTTERFIELD'S APARTMENT - NIGHT
The rooms are spartan. Nothing on the walls. Nothing on the
floors. Very little furniture.
Butterfield sits beside the window, obsessively combing his
long hair. There is something feminine about him now: his
voice a whisper, his stare distracted. If we didn't guess it
already, we're in the presence of a madman.
Miller is squatting against the wall, picking shards of GLASS
out of his torso. It hurts, but he's enjoying himself.
BUTTERFIELD
D'Amour... D'Amour... Why do I know
that name?
MILLER
I know him. I saw him.
He stops to pull out a particularly large piece of glass,
sighing with pleasure.
MILLER
I saw him on T.V. Some kid got
possessed and he saved the little
bastard's life.
BUTTERFIELD
He's a priest?
MILLER
No. He's just a guy who's got a
nose for this shit.
(a beat. A smirk)
Like you.
A long beat of silence. Butterfield combs. Miller digs for
glass.
BUTTERFIELD
I don't want him getting in the
way.
MILLER
He won't.
Another silence.
BUTTERFIELD
(dreamily)
We've all of us waited too long to
have the homecoming spoiled.
MILLER
What do you mean, "all of us?"
BUTTERFIELD
You didn't think it was just going
to be you and me? A lot of people
believed in Nix. They haven't
forgotten his promise.
MILLER
About?
BUTTERFIELD
Death.
MILLER
What about death?
BUTTERFIELD
(a beat)
It's an illusion.
CUT TO:
EXT. PHILADELPHIA STREET - MORNING
On screen: Philadelphia
A suburban street. Early morning light.
INT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - PHILADELPHIA - MORNING
CLOSE-UP of a PHOTOGRAPH of the Cultist with the Painted
Face, from the opening scene, standing outside Nix's house in
Nevada. His name is Norman Sanders.
ON NORMAN, thirteen years older, looking down at the
photograph. He lays it down, beside a letter, on which two
words are written: "Homecoming Time."
Norman smiles to himself. Goes to the wardrobe. Gets out a
small suitcase. His WIFE'S BODY is slumped in the wardrobe,
glassy-eyed.
CLOSE UP of letter -—
CUT TO:
INT. KITCHEN IN MIAMI HOUSE - DAY
—- and DRAW OUT from the letter to a different interior, a
different domestic circumstance.
On the screen: Miami.
BARBARA - the blonde girl who carved the cult's sigil into
her chest - is washing her hands. She casually dries them,
and picks up the letter, walking past her HUSBAND and SON,
both DEAD at the breakfast table, BLOOD spreading around
their heads. When she gets to the door she steps over the
body of her DAUGHTER, who has also been shot trying to escape
her mother's murder spree.
ON THE RADIO, George Harrison sings "My Sweet Lord."
RADIO
"I really want to see you, Lord,
And it won't take long, my Lord, My
sweet Lord..."
CUT TO:
EXT. SAN ANTONIO 200 - REPTILE HOUSE - DAY
On screen: San Antonio.
A ZOO-KEEPER wanders into the darkened interior of the
Reptile House.
INT. REPTILE HOUSE - DAY
The Zoo-keeper's benign expression changes at the sight of
the chaos inside. The glass cases have been SMASHED. Another
KEEPER lies on the ground, his face pulped. A few SNAKES
slither around his body, but most of them have gone.
CUT TO:
EXT. SNAKE-HANDLER CULTIST'S CAR - DAY
The Snake-Handler Cultist drives at speed.
INT. SNAKE-HANDLER CULTIST'S CAR - DAY
PAN UP from another letter'- with the same message - on the
dashboard, to the crazed face of the Snake-Handler. PAN TO
the back of the car. IT SEETHES WITH HUNDREDS OF SNAKES.
EXT. SWANN'S MANSION - DAY
It's early morning in Bel-Air. The sun shines down on a
millionaire's paradise: a huge house surrounded by a jungle
of trees and blossoms.
EXT. SWANN'S MANSION - POOLSIDE - DAY
The blue water glitters in the noon-day sun. And a WOMAN --
her body perfectly proportioned -- glides under the surface,
emerging at the shallow end, where the housekeeper CLEMENZIA
is setting a tray on a table.
CLEMENZIA
Coffee, Mrs. Swann?
Mrs. Swann's name is DOROTHEA. She is a beautiful and
sensual woman.
DOROTHEA
Thank you.
She dries off.
DOROTHEA
Where's Mr. Swann?
CLEMENZIA
In his study.
(a beat)
He got something on his mind?
DOROTHEA
Why?
CLEMENZIA
Bad mood today.
INT. SWANN'S MANSION - STUDY - DAY
Venetian blinds shut out most of the sunlight, but a lamp
burns on the desk (huge), showing us the furniture (leather),
the books (innumerable), and the figure of SWANN, sitting
behind the desk smoking a CIGAR. He's lost some hair and
some colour over the years, but he still has the same
hypnotic eyes.
He studies the L.A. TIMES in front of him.
ON THE OPEN PAGE
"Fortune Teller Brutally Murdered," the headline
announces.
Underneath, a PHOTOGRAPH of Quaid's wrecked room. WE CLOSE
IN on the photograph, and catch a glimpse of Harry, standing
looking at the chaos. CAMERA. MOVES DOWN to the text
beneath, and on to the name "Harry D'Amour."
ON SWANN, pensive as he studies the paper.
DOROTHEA (V.O.)
(softly)
Hey...
He looks up, startled.
DOROTHEA The sun's shining out there. Dorothea is dressed in
a white robe now. She literally brings light into this
gloomy room. On the shelves behind Swann are a number of art
brut figurines, vaguely recalling the idols outside Nix's
"temple."
DOROTHEA
Bad show last night?
SWANN
(wearily)
The usual. Full house. Standing
ovation. I tell them it's magic...
DOROTHEA
(distastefully)
... they believe you.
SWANN
Yeah.
(a beat)
Remember Quaid?
DOROTHEA
Sure.
SWANN
Somebody killed him.
DOROTHEA
Oh God.
SWANN
(disturbed)
I just saw him.
A difficult silence. Then Swann crosses to the door.
SWANN
I'm putting in a new illusion
tonight. Will you be there?
DOROTHEA
Sure. You want me to find out
about Quaid? I mean, the funeral?
SWANN
No.
(superstitiously)
I'm not going near him.
INT. SWANN'S MANSION - LOBBY - DAY
VALENTIN is overseeing the hanging of a new piece in Swann's
collection: a huge, framed POSTER from a late nineteenth
century magic spectacular. Valentin is fifty or so, his gray
hair combed back close to his scalp. Immaculately dressed in
a distinctively European fashion. Precise. Cautious.
Elegant.
He orders the TWO PICTURE-HANGERS in a clipped fashion.
VALENTIN
Higher. Another inch. The left
hand side's too low.
Dorothea descends the stairs, dressed for the day.
DOROTHEA
Valentin?
VALENTIN
(to Hangers)
Good. There.
(to Dorothea)
Yes?
DOROTHEA
(gives him the newspaper)
You saw this?
Valentin nods. They walk back through the house together,
while the picture-hanging goes on behind them.
DOROTHEA
I want you to find this man D'Amour
for me.
She passes the newspaper to Valentin. He looks down at it.
ON NEWSPAPER.
C.U. of Harry's blurred PICTURE.
INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Harry is sprawled on the bed, in his under shorts. A shaft of
sun darts between the drapes, missing his face by inches.
Somebody is knocking on the door, hard.
HARRY
(waking)
What...?
He rolls over. The sun strikes his eyes. He winces.
HARRY
Shit.
VALENTIN (V.O.)
Mr. D'Amour?
HARRY
Go away.
VALENTIN (V.O.)
It's one in the afternoon.
HARRY
What are you, my mother?
VALENTIN (V.O.)
I need to speak to you, Mr.
D'Amour. About last night.
Harry gets up and stumbles to the door. He opens it a
little. The face of VALENTIN is visible through the crack.
HARRY
Whatever I said, I didn't mean it,
okay? I get a few drinks inside me --
VALENTIN
We've never met.
HARRY
Then what do you want?
VALENTIN
I'm here to offer you a job.
HARRY
I'm going back to New York in--
(consults his watch)
Shit! I'm outta here.
VALENTIN
Have you got a job that'll pay you
five thousand a day?
A beat. Then Harry takes the chain off the door.
HARRY
Do I get lunch?
CUT TO:
EXT. SANTA MONICA BLVD. - DAY
A white SEDAN glides along the boulevard. At the wheel,
Valentin. Beside him, Harry.
INT. SEDAN - DAY
Harry is eating a burrito and sipping coffee.
HARRY
Whose is the car?
VALENTIN
Mine.
HARRY
Nah. You're driving it too
carefully.
VALENTIN
(sparring)
Maybe I just bought it.
HARRY
Somebody's been smoking in here for
months.
He pulls open the ashtray. Pulls out a cigar-butt.
HARRY
Havanas. You're not the
smoker. So who is?
VALENTIN
(laughs)
You could almost pass for a
detective, D'Amour.
(a beat)
I work for the best illusionist in
the world.
HARRY
Philip Swann?
VALENTIN
You know of him?
HARRY
I saw him in Vegas once.
VALENTIN
Are you a gambling man?
HARRY
When I can afford to lose. Swann's
quite a magician.
VALENTIN
Never call him that. He's strictly
an illusionist.
HARRY
What's the difference?
VALENTIN
Illusions are trickery. Magicians
do it for real.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD CEMETERY - GATES - DAY
The sedan turns into a driveway.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD CEMETERY - DAY
The sun beats down on a pristine panorama of palms and white
marble tombs. Harry and Valentin walk towards a large
mausoleum.
HARRY
Any movie stars buried here?
VALENTIN
Probably.
HARRY
It's not a bad place. Warm.
Great view.
VALENTIN
I don't think the dead much care.
HARRY
Are you sure?
VALENTIN
Are you a believer, then?
Valentin gives him an inquisitive look.
HARRY
I've signed on for them all in my
time. Hindu. Catholic. You can't
have too many saviours.
Harry's gaze is on the mausoleum now; or rather on the woman
in white standing in its cool shadows: Dorothea Swann. She
wears a wide-brimmed hat.
HARRY
Who is she?
VALENTIN
Swann's wife.
CUT TO:
VALENTIN sitting on the mausoleum steps reading a book. He
glances up.
Harry and Dorothea are wandering between the graves, deep in
conversation.
DOROTHEA
I want you to help me help my
husband. I know he's in some kind
of trouble. And it's something to
do with the man you saw murdered.
HARRY
Did your husband know Quaid?
DOROTHEA
Yes. They weren't close, but they
saw each other once in a while. I
think Philip believes all that
stuff with the tarot cards.
HARRY
You don't?
DOROTHEA
I think we make our own futures.
Harry makes an approving MURMUR.
HARRY
What's the connection?
DOROTHEA
(covering now, but well)
I don't exactly know.
Philip doesn't like to talk about
the past.
HARRY
Why not?
Dorothea stops talking. Takes off her sunglasses. Her gaze
is troubled, but direct. There is an attraction between the
two of them that simmers beneath the dialogue.
DOROTHEA
He's a secretive man.
HARRY
And you don't ask questions?
DOROTHEA
We don't share our lives the way a
lot of people do.
HARRY
Does that mean...?
DOROTHEA
We haven't slept in the same bed
for years.
HARRY
But obviously you still care what
happens to him.
DOROTHEA
We wouldn't be having this
conversation if I didn't. Swann's
one of the most remarkable men
alive.
Harry, frowns.
DOROTHEA
You don't believe me.
HARRY
He's an illusionist. It's not
exactly brain surgery.
Dorothea stares at him.
HARRY
Sorry. You asked.
DOROTHEA
No. You're right. He could have
been something more. Maybe a lot
more. But people get lost. Even
good people. Too much fame. Too
much money,
HARRY
Where do I sign?
Dorothea LAUGHS lightly.
DOROTHEA
Will you take the job, Mr. D'Amour?
HARRY
Harry.
DOROTHEA
Harry.
HARRY
I'm no bodyguard.
DOROTHEA
That's not what I'm asking for. I
want somebody who can find out what
Philip saw in those damn cards.
And stop it from happening.
HARRY
When do you want me to start?
DOROTHEA
Come to the show with me. Tonight I
want you to see him with an
audience. They love him.
HARRY
Do you?
The question catches Dorothea off guard.
DOROTHEA
I didn't marry him for love, Mr.
D'Amour. Tonight?
HARRY
Sure.
Dorothea makes a little smile, and walks away. Harry watches
her go, exhaling an appreciative breath at the sight of her
departing figure.
CUT TO:
INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - DUSK
Harry's talking on the phone while he dresses for the
theatre.
HARRY
You're not listening to me, Loomis.
CUT TO:
INT. LOOMIS' OFFICE - MEW YORK - NIGHT
LOOMIS, a slob of a man, is in his office, eating pizza.
INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION
LOOMIS
The case is closed. Harry. Tapert's
given us a full confession. Get
your ass back to Mew York.
HARRY
No. I'm taking a couple of weeks'
vacation.
LOOMIS
You never took a fucking vacation
in your life, Harry. What's going
on?
HARRY
I got to go. I'm late.
LOOMIS
Call me tomorrow.
HARRY
There's other guys as good as me,
Loomis.
LOOMIS
Yeah. But not as cheap. Call me.
HARRY
A couple of weeks.
LOOMIS
One question.
HARRY
What?
LOOMIS
Who is she?
Harry can't help but smile to himself.
LOOMIS
I thought so. 'Night, Harry.
Click. Harry puts down the phone. Glances at himself in the
mirror. Raises a rueful eyebrow.
CUT TO:
EXT. WILTERN THEATRE - NIGHT
CRANE DOWN from a looming STANDEE of Swann, perched above the
theatre marquee. SPOTLIGHTS rake the skies. The sidewalk
below is jammed with AUDIENCE MEMBERS, STAR-SPOTTERS and
PHOTOGRAPHERS. This is a flashy, prestigious event. LIMOS
are disgorging scantily- dressed STARLETS and smiling MONEY
MEN; a NEWS TEAM is interviewing audience members as they
file in.
The atmosphere is noisy and excited. Amid the throng, Harry.
He makes his way inside.
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT
The atmosphere, is closer to a rock concert than a
conventional stage show. Security people with walkie-
talkies roam the aisles; the audience buzzes with barely
controlled hysteria.
Harry heads down the aisle, eyes on the stage. A star-lit
CURTAIN covers it. Six rows from the stage is Dorothea,
already in her seat. She smiles lavishly, happy to see him.
DOROTHEA
I'm glad you could make it.
Harry takes a seat beside her.
HARRY
Hey, this is a big deal for me. You
know what seats like this cost in
New York?
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - STAGE - NIGHT
Center-stage, behind the closed curtains, Swann is ready for
the opening of the show. TECHNICIANS buzz around him like
flies.
SWANN
Valentin!
Valentin emerges from the wings, patting the PANTHER that is
waiting there.
SWANN
(irritated)
Valentin!
VALENTIN
I'm here.
SWANN
The guy with Dorothea. Is that who
I think it is?
Valentin nods.
ON SWANN, his expression unreadable.
SWANN
He's young.
MUSIC strikes up. A dramatic, Wagnerian chord. Valentin
hurries away. Swann's expression becomes very focused.
1ST TECHNICIAN
(to Swann)
Ready?
SWANN
Ready.
Swann rises up into the flies.
1ST TECHNICIAN
How the fuck does he do that?
2ND TECHNICIAN
It's wires, man.
1ST TECHNICIAN
I never seen no wires.
2ND TECHNICIAN
(sarcastic)
So what is it? Magic?
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - AUDITORIUM AND STAGE - NIGHT
The LIGHTS are DIMMING. Harry glances across at Dorothea,
whose gaze is intent.
The LIGHTS go OUT. The MUSIC SWELLS, and the CURTAINS fly
apart. A spectacle worthy of Seigfried and Roy is about to
blast our senses! Magic for the 90's: a wild, erotic ride
into mystery.
SWANN (V.O.)
Ladies and gentlemen. You are
standing on the threshold of a
miracle...
A vortex of SMOKE and LIGHT swirls in the middle of the
stage.
The vortex BLAZES --
And suddenly Swann SWEEPS DOWN out of the flies, as the floor
of the stage opens and the head of a glittering, razor
toothed DRAGON emerges in a cloud of CRIMSON SMOKE.
Swann raises his hands above his head and a SPEAR
miraculously appears in his grasp. He descends on the
dragon. It's a classic image: St. Michael smiting the
Devil. Swann drives the spear down the throat of the dragon.
The theatre SHAKES at its dying ROARS. Then the head cracks
open, and out of the dragon's mouth emerge a dozen scantily
dressed DANCERS, male and female. Swann throws down the
spear, and where it strikes the stage his PANTHER appears.
A ROAR of APPLAUSE from the audience. Swann's plain white
tunic falls away from him as he descends. By the time his
feet touch the stage he is dressed in a star- shot TUXEDO.
The PANTHER licks his hand in welcome. The MUSIC comes to a
crescendo. The DANCERS freeze in their erotic dance. In the
sudden hush, Swann speaks in a whisper.
SWANN
My friends ... come with me...into
the Great Beyond.
A barrage of LIGHTS and MUSIC erupt.
The AUDIENCE APPLAUDS wildly.
ON HARRY and Dorothea.
HARRY
He's good.
DOROTHEA
You haven't seen anything yet.
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - LOBBY - NIGHT
The doors SQUEAK as a gust of WIND blows through them.
Butterfield stands in the lobby, listening to the muted
SOUNDS of MUSIC and APPLAUSE. Then he offers his ticket to
the TICKET-COLLECTOR and steps inside.
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - AUDITORIUM AND STAGE - NIGHT
A new musical motif hangs in the air: MUSIC announcing
danger.
The AUDIENCE watches intently, nervously.
ON HARRY and DOROTHEA.
DOROTHEA
(a whisper)
This is the new illusion.
ON STAGE, Swann is bound to a spinning WHEEL, while the
DANCERS, dressed like Boschian DEMONS, cavort around him,
somersaulting and leaping over eruptions of yellow FLAME.
It's a scene from Daniels Inferno. Above him. a dozen
glittering SWORDS - six feet long - are descending. He
struggles to free himself. The MUSIC gets more exciting as
the wheel spins faster and faster.
Suddenly, a sword DROPS. It falls between Swann's
outstretched legs, skewering the wheel. Then ANOTHER, close
to his head.
ON HARRY. He's tense. Excited.
BACK TO STAGE. Swann is free I He throws off the last
shackle and uses it to thrust into the mechanism of the
wheel. There's a theatrical BLAZE of white-hot SPARKS.
The wheel slows. He starts to step off it, as another of the
the swords DROPS.
The AUDIENCE GASPS. Swann smiles, and TRIPS.
As he FALLS, the sword runs through the middle of his back,
carrying him down to the still-spinning wheel, and pinning
him there. Some of the DANCERS continue to cavort. Some
stop.
More GASPS from the audience.
ON HARRY, having a --
FLASHBACK: Harry's hand turns over the final tar of card.
The scene on the stage is that image coming to life.
HARRY
There's something wrong...
ON Swann, as a second sword FALLS, skewering his thigh, and a
third, running through his buttock, and a fourth and fifth,
until TEN SWORDS have entered his body.
ON THE AUDIENCE, not certain whether this is a trick or not.
The MUSIC has stopped. In the silence, somebody GIGGLES
nervously. A couple of PEOPLE break into APPLAUSE, but it
dies away in a matter of moments.
ON DOROTHEA AND HARRY
DOROTHEA
No. . .
ON THE STAGE, Swann raises his head and looks out at his
wife, his eyes already glassy with imminent death. He
reaches out towards her, and then sags on the wheel, dead.
There are GASPS now from the audience. Murmurs of disgust;
sobs of horror.
1ST AUDIENCE MEMBER
What happened?
2ND AUDIENCE MEMBER
It's a trick.
3RD AUDIENCE MEMBER
Somebody help him.
The curtains start to close.
ON Dorothea, tears of shock filling her eyes.
DOROTHEA
(to Harry)
I've got to get to him!
The AUDIENCE is rising now, as the horror of what they've
seen sinks in. There is panic. A few people have
fainted.
One or two are even praying.
Harry carves out a path down to the stage for Dorothea
against the flood of the exiting crowd.
HARRY
Out of the way! Out of the way!
He helps Dorothea onto the stage, and lifts the curtain so
she can duck beneath it.
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - STAGE - NIGHT
Chaos. PEOPLE running, sobbing, puking; some simply standing
watching. Valentin is already at the body, with the STAGE
MANAGER at his side.
VALENTIN
(to Stage Manager)
Get then out of here, for God's
sake --
STAGE MANAGER
You heard him! It's not a fucking
show!
He starts to physically push the crowd back. Harry grabs his
arm.
STAGE MANAGER
Who are you?
Harry uses his grip to gently but efficiently move the STAGE
MANAGER out of Dorothea's way. She goes to Swann's body,
which has been removed from the wheel.
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT
The audience is clearing now. But Butterfield is coming
towards the stage, with an ambiguous look on his face. Is he
enraged? Or puzzled? Or both?
MILLER
Psst!
Miller stands at an open door, leading below the stage.
Butterfield enters.
INT. WILTERN THEATRE - STAGE - NIGHT
Dorothea kneels at Swann's side. A few yards from her, Harry
examines the mechanism of the wheel.
DOROTHEA
(softly)
Swann...
A DOCTOR appears.
DOCTOR
I'm a doctor. Let me through.
The Doctor checks Swann's body.
DOCTOR
(to Dorothea)
I'm sorry...
Harry has discovered a CABLE snaking down beside the device.
He's suspicious. He slips round to the back of the
mechanism, and climbs down beneath the stage, tracing the
cable as he goes.
WILTERN THEATRE - BELOW STAGE - NIGHT
It's an eerie, shadowy space, filled with the PROPS that are
used in the show, including the DRAGON we saw at the
beginning. From above we hear FOOTSTEPS and VOICES, muted
and echoing.
The cable ends in bare wires. Whatever was here has been
taken.
A NOISE, behind Harry. He swings round. Sees a shadowy
FIGURE ducking away.
HARRY
Hey!
He gives chase. Loses the man in the shadows. Stops and
listens for movement.
Suddenly, Miller steps out of the shadows with a plank of
wood and smashes it into Harry's face!
Harry reels back. Falls to his knees, BLOOD running from his
nose. Miller pulls Harry's GUN out of his jacket.
MILLER
Got you, fucker!
Harry is facing the dragon's head, dazed. And now, out of
the dragon's mouth, comes Butterfield.
BUTTERFIELD
Who did this, D'Amour? Who killed
Swann?
Harry is barely holding on to consciousness.
HARRY
You did.
(a beat)
Didn't you?
BUTTERFIELD
Why would I do that?
HARRY
Beats me.
Butterfield is a foot from Harry now.
BUTTERFIELD
You don't have a clue what you're
into, do you?
HARRY
Deep shit?
Butterfield hits him.
BUTTERFIELD
Who did this?
HARRY
I told you --
Butterfield hits him again.
BUTTERFIELD
Who did this?
HARRY
(raises his hand)
All right. It was...
Butterfield comes a little closer.
HARRY
(feigning a near collapse)
... it was...
Butterfield leans in. And Harry grabs him by the balls --
literally -- rising as he does so.
BUTTERFIELD
Aah!
Harry THROWS Butterfield aside. Butterfield hits the ground
in agony, and Harry swings round to protect himself from
Miller, who's leveling Harry's gun.
He FIRES once, missing Harry by inches. Harry catches hold
of a ROPE underfoot and pulls it, tripping Miller, who
TOPPLES backwards into the mouth of the dragon. The GUN GOES
OFF again, the bullet BLOWING APART the dragon's JAW
MECHANISM.
Miller starts to sit up, his body splayed between the
dragon's steel teeth. He has Harry in his sights.
-- something CREAKS. He looks up. The dragon's jaw is
closing, FAST. He starts to scramble to his feet. Too
late!
The teeth SLAM CLOSED on his body. Sudden death.
Harry looks round to see Butterfield retreating into the
shadows. Then he's gone. Harry looks down at Miller's
BLOOD, which is pooling around his feet.
HARRY
Deep shit...
FADE OUT
FADE IN
INT. POLICE STATION - EDDISON'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Harry sits at Eddison's desk, looking exhausted and bruised.
Eddison has just finished taking his statement.
EDDISON
And this Butterfield guy--
HARRY
--vanished.
EDDISON
(frustrated sigh)
Another fucking magician. Jesus.
Harry looks past Eddison and sees an ashen, tearful Dorothea
being taken into another office.
HARRY
Are you finished with me?
EDDISON
For now. Are you planning to go
back to New York?
HARRY
(watching Dorothea)
No. Not yet...
INT. POLICE STATION - OTHER OFFICE - NIGHT
Dorothea sits alone, staring at the wall. Harry enters.
HARRY
Are they treating you okay?
DOROTHEA
(nods)
I heard what happened. It looks
like somebody murdered him.
HARRY
I'm sorry I got into this too late.
But if you want me to stick around,
maybe dig where the cops don't
look...
DOROTHEA
I don't know where you'd start.
HARRY
Well... how about some of the other
illusionists?
DOROTHEA
They won't tell you anything.
HARRY
I can be very persuasive.
DOROTHEA
(a beat)
Yes. I think you probably can.
(another beat)
We'd need to talk about your fee.
HARRY
Forget the fee. If I find
Butterfield, maybe we'll talk about
money. If I don't...
(he shrugs)
...my gamble. Either way... I
get to spend some time... here.
The way he says this, it's plain "here" doesn't mean L.A., it
means near -Dorothea. And by the tiny smile on her face,
it's also plain she knows it.
CUT TO:
EXT. MAGIC SHOP - HOLLYWOOD BLVD. - DAY
Noon. Bright sun. Busy street. Harry, now wearing a
bandage on his cut face, enters.
INT. MAGIC SHOP - DAY
A wonderland for illusionists. Books, props, masks, tricks,
etc. Two or three CUSTOMERS browse. Harry glances at them
all, then targets a MAN in late middle age, who is browsing
through books, one-handed. His other hand constantly
manipulates a card, concealing and revealing it in a dozen
ways. He doesn't even look at his hand. His name is WALTER
WILDER.
Harry stands beside him. Scans the shelf.
HARRY
Where'd you learn that?
WILDER
What?
HARRY
(points)
That.
WILDER
At birth. I don't know you --
HARRY
Harry D'Amour.
WILDER
I know all the kids coming up. Got
to stay ahead of the game. But I
don't know you.
HARRY
I'm in from New York. I came to
see Swann.
WILDER
What a tragedy. It was just a
matter of time, of course, but it's
not good for the business.
HARRY
Was he taking a lot of risks?
WILDER
You don't know the half of it. I'm
Walter Wilder, by the way.
HARRY
Not the Walter Wilder?
Walter beams.
WILDER
The one and only.
He hands Harry a card.
WILDER
Want to try?
Harry tries to emulate Wilder's card manipulation through the
rest of this conversation.
WILDER
You know Vinovich?
HARRY
(not a clue)
Sure. Vivovich.
WILDER
He knew Swann way back. He says
there were a lot of drugs, a lot of
crazy shit.
HARRY
I'd love to... you know... hang
with some of you guys.
WILDER
People are pretty cagey. Who do
you know?
HARRY
For what?
WILDER
For an introduction.
HARRY
Well... nobody.
Wilder takes a moment to assess Harry, who is attempting to
manipulate the card he's been given with charming ineptitude.
WILDER
(magnanimously)
You do now.
EXT. MAGIC CASTLE - DUSK
The castle is faux, of course, but it has a Gothic charm.
Harry and Walter wander towards the front door. Harry is
knotting a newly-bought tie.
HARRY
I only wear ties for funerals.
WILDER
You don't get in without one. It's
like a gentlemen's club for
illusionists. Except most of us
aren't gentlemen.
INT. MAGIC CASTLE - CORRIDORS - NIGHT
The interior is murky and atmospheric, the walls covered with
illusionists' posters.
Walter leads the way through the long corridors, past rooms
where illusionists are performing close-up magic for
audiences of well-heeled patrons. Walter nods and waves to
half a dozen people on their way through the house, up the
stairs and towards the bar.
HARRY
Are they all in the business?
WILDER
It's not a business. Harry. It's a
vocation.
Wilder points to a locked door.
WILDER
That's what they call the
Repository. Every magic secret
known to man's locked up in that
room.
HARRY
Have you been in?
WILDER
No. There's only three keys.
Vinovich has got one, of
course.
(beat)
He's a little crazy, by the way.
And he's a mean drunk. Otherwise,
he's a real charmer.
CUT TO
INT. MAGIC CASTLE - BAR - NIGHT
Later. A drunken VINOVICH is holding court. He's in his
40's: a flamboyant and loquacious man with a heavy (and
fake) middle-European accent. At the table - besides Harry
and Walter - are: Vinovich's starlet/nymphet girlfriend
LAURA; an Asian-American illusionist called BILLY WHO; and
two of Vinovich's adoring courtiers, an overblown,
overdressed female illusionist - DEBRA DEVINE - and a thin,
waspish fellow in a spangly suit: the AMAZING QUENTIN.
In the conversation that follows we go back to Harry
repeatedly as he studies this extraordinary group.
VINOVICH
It's more than entertainment. We're
opening people's heads up. Putting
miracles back into their boring
little lives.
BILLY
But they're fake miracles.
VINOVICH
Houdini believed he had spirit
guides.
HARRY
You believe that?
VINOVICH
I think we walk a narrow path,
between... between...
HARRY
Heaven and Hell?
Vinovich stares hard at Harry, trying to figure out whether
he's being sarcastic or not.
VINOVICH
Trickery and divinity.
HARRY
Are you saying that sometimes
the miracles are real?
VINOVICH
No. I'm saying they were always
fake. The saints, the messiahs,
they were just illusionists.
HARRY
So could you walk on water?
VINOVICH
(deadly serious)
I could reproduce any miracle
that's ever been performed, with a
little preparation.
HARRY
What about Swann's miracles?
The smug smile on Vinovich's face dies. Furtive glances are
exchanged around the table. Only Billy Who makes a tiny
smile.
VINOVICH
They weren't worth a damn.
HARRY
(goading)
I heard he was the best.
VINOVICH
If he was so good why's he so dead?
Vinovich begins to look suspicious.
HARRY
You tell me. No? I thought you'd
maybe have a theory.
VINOVICH
Oh, I've got plenty.
HARRY
I'd like to hear them.
Vinovich rises.
VINOVICH
I'm not saying another word.
(to Wilder)
You damn fool. He's a
journalist.
HARRY
Just tell me about Swann. Or are
you too scared?
VINOVICH
He was a freak. Everything he did
was tainted.
Harry rises. Looks straight at Vinovich, unintimidated.
HARRY
With what?
VINOVICH
Evil. He was evil.
(to Laura)
Come on.
She rises.
VINOVICH
(to the rest)
Say nothing to this man if you wish
to keep my company.
He stalks away. Harry calls after him, across a now-
silenced bar.
HARRY
Great accent, by the way. Is it
Brooklyn?
VINOVICH
(pure Brooklyn)
Fuck you.
EXT. MAGIC CASTLE - PARKING LOT - NIGHT
Harry heads to the car.
BILLY (V.O.)
Harry!
Harry turns. Billy approaches, glancing behind him to see
that he's not being watched.
BILLY
I gotta be careful. If Vinovich
sees me talking to you. He's an
asshole, but he's a powerful
asshole.
HARRY
They go together.
BILLY
(lowered voice)
I've heard a name. Someone they
talk about in whispers.
HARRY
Who?
BILLY
Nix.
HARRY
Nix?
BILLY
Like in nothing. Nobody. Nix.
HARRY
Who is he?
BILLY
I think maybe he taught Swann.
(hands Harry a card)
This is me. See ya around.
Billy hurries away.
CUT TO:
INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Harry lies on his bed, dozing. The CAMERA CREEPS IN on him.
DOROTHEA (V.O.)
... I want somebody who can find
out what Philip saw in those damn
cards...
Harry frowns in his semi-doze.
DISSOLVE TO:
FLASHBACK - QUAID'S ROOM
BUTTERFIELD
Ever watched a man die?
The image darkens, and fades up a beat later on Quaid.
QUAID
Please... I wasn't there... Ask
Pimm.
BUTTERFIELD
Pimm's dead. Jennifer Desiderio's
disappeared...
BACK TO:
INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Harry is still asleep.
CUT TO:
FLASHBACK - QUAID'S ROOM
QUAID
I'm not afraid to die. There's
something terrible... coming
home...
A long silence.
SUDDENLY, a telephone RINGS.
BACK TO:
INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
HARRY sits up, shocked awake.
HARRY
Shit!
He picks up the receiver.
HARRY
This is D'Amour. |
