СЕКИРА СТАРОГО ТОРИРА

 

 

The RKO TITLE and CREDITS are SUPERIMPOSED over a tall

stained glass window as shown from the inside of a building.

There are two maidenly figures worked into the stained glass

window: one, older and slightly taller, dressed in van

colored garments, leads by the hand a younger and smaller

girl, dressed in a simple flowing, white robe. Through the

lighter colored pieces of glass in the window the branches of

a tree can be seen stirring in a light wind.

 

 

The last credit FADES from the screen.

 

 

INT. STAIRWAY - HIGHCLIFFE ACADEMY - DAY

 

The CAMERA HOLDS ON the stained glass window. Beneath the

painted figures is a scroll, and on the scroll, a part of the

stained glass window, is an inscription:

 

 

I RUNNE TO DEATH AND DEATH MEETS ME AS FAST,

AND ALL MY PLEASURES ARE LIKE YESTERDAY. -

 

John Donne, Holy Sonnets VI.

 

 

As the CAMERA CONTINUES TO HOLD, the jumbled sound of

classroom recitations can be heard.

 

GIRL'S VOICE

(o.s. from classroom above

camera level)

Amo, arias, amat, amamus, amatis,

amant.

 

SECOND GIRL'S VOICE

(o.s. from classroom below

camera level)

One times nine is nine.

Two times nine is eighteen.

Three times nine is twenty-seven.

Four times nine is thirty-six

 

THIRD GIRL'S VOICE

(o.s. from classroom above camera

level, singing)

Do, no, mi, Pa, sol, la, ti, do.

 

These classroom sounds, although they can be heard clearly,

should not disturb the serenity of the stairway or of the

painted figures on which the CAMERA IS LEVELED.

 

Suddenly, from overhead, a gong rings with a harsh, jarring

noise. Doors are heard opening, feet scuffling over the floor

and the light, high sound of girls' voices chattering. A

moment later a cascade of uniformed schoolgirls of all ages

pours down the stairs past the camera. Against this tide one

single girl makes her way.

 

The CAMERA PANS WITH her up the remainder of the short flight

of stairs and across the hallway to a door marked, PRINCIPAL.

The girl knocks and from inside an over— cultured woman's

voice is heard in response,

 

MRS. LOWOOD'S VOICE

Come in, please.

 

CLOSE SHOT - Mary Gibson at the door. She hesitates before

opening it. She is young and her youth gives her prettiness,

but something in the quiet serenity of her face and the clear

candor of the eyes show the innate niceness of the girl; a

quality of character which will give her real beauty as she

grows older. At the moment she is somewhat perplexed by her

unexpected summons by the Head Mistress.

 

MED. CLOSE SHOT of Mary as she opens the door and looks

expectantly toward the desk. No one is there.

 

MRS. LOW0OD'S VOICE

Here we are, Mary.

 

MED. LONG SHOT as Mary walks into the room. It is a large

room and every effort has been made to invest it with

authority. A large Sheraton desk with side trays stands at

one end. On the wall behind this desk hangs a gloomy, dour

visaged portrait of the founder of the school. The wall

opposite the door is pierced by a large window. There are

several bookcases with dull-looking volumes; books of

reference and encyclopedia. On top of one of these cases is

the white, plaster head of Athena. The walls are covered with

enormous framed, sepia-tinted prints of the Acropolis, the

Colosseum, Trajan's Column and other celebrated ruins.

 

Mrs. Lowood, the Principal, a solidly built lady with iron

gray hair and her assistant, Miss Gilcrist, a slim, frail

lady of indeterminate age, are at a small table at the end of

the room. They are cutting out paper hearts. As Mary comes up

to them, Mrs. Lowood finishes cutting out a paper heart and

lays down the scissors with an air of satisfaction. With Mary

close behind her, she starts toward the desk. Miss Gilcrist

follows. The CAMERA PANS WITH them as they cross the room.

 

MRS. LOWOOD

I have a most painful matter to

discuss with you, Mary.

 

Mary looks concerned.

 

Mrs. Lowood has reached her desk, while Mary stands wondering

what might come next. Mrs. Lowood deliberately seats herself

and puts her fingertips together firmly. Over this Gothic

arch she speaks to Mary. Miss Gilcrist takes her accustomed

place beside her.

 

MRS. LOWOOD

Your sister - - have you heard from

her lately?

 

MARY

No, Mrs. Lowood, she doesn't write

often.

 

MRS. LOWOOD

Have you any other relatives, Mary?

 

Mary shakes her head.

 

MARY

No. Jacqueline brought me up.

(smiling)

Somehow I never felt I needed other

relatives.

 

Mrs. Lowood nods.

 

MRS. LOWOOD

That makes it all the more

difficult ——

 

MARY

(a little alarmed)

Difficult? Has anything happened to

Jacqueline?

 

MRS. LOWOOD

We don't know, Mary. We've been

unable to get in touch with your

sister.

 

MARY

(relieved)

Sometimes she can be quite

careless. Why don't you try Mrs.

Redi?

 

MRS. LOWOOD

I have written repeatedly to Mrs.

Redi. She vouchsafes no information

whatsoever.

(pauses)

It is six months since your tuition

has been paid, Mary. Naturally, it

is impossible for you to stay on

here as a paying pupil.

 

MARY

(in a small voice)

Of course.

 

MRS LOWOOD

Miss Gilcrist and I have talked it

over. You can remain here and work

with the younger children as a sort

of assistant teacher. These

Valentine cut-outs for instance —-

(holds one up)

-- it's something you could do.

 

She starts to get up as if everything were decided.

 

MARY

But, Mrs. Lowood, I can't just stay

here not knowing what's happened to

my sister. Maybe if I went to New

York -- if I saw Mrs. Redi myself --

 

MRS. LOWOOD

I doubt if you'll get anything

out of that woman. But if

(shrugging)

you'd like to try, I'll advance you

the money to make the trip to New

York. Of course, my dear, if you

don't find your sister, you can

always come back here.

 

NARY

(catching the note of high

minded dismissal)

Thank you.

 

She turns and starts for the door. Miss Gilcrist goes with

her.

 

INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE MRS. LOWOOD'S OFFICE - DAY

 

Mary comes out of Mrs. Lowood's office, closely followed

by Miss Gilcrist, who closes the door softly behind her.

 

MISS GILCRIST

Mary, don't come back. No matter if

you never find your sister -— no

matter what happens to you -- don't

come back.

 

Mary looks at her in surprise.

 

MISS GILCRIST

(in a kindly, more

explanatory tone)

My parents died when I was a pupil.

I left, as you are leaving, but I

didn't have courage -- one must

have courage to really live in the

world -- I came back.

 

The two stand looking at each other for a moment, while Mary

realizes what her future may be -- what Miss Gilcrist is --

then suddenly the ringing notes of Mrs. Lowood's voice come

from the other side of the door.

 

MRS. LOWOOD'S VOICE

Gilcrist!

 

Miss Gilcrist starts, turns automatically to open the door,

then looks back at Mary. With a fond glance, she pats her arm

before opening the door and going on into Mrs. Lowood's

office.

 

DISSOLVE

 

INT. STAIRWAY - HIGHCLIFFE ACADEMY - LATE AFTERNOON

 

The stained glass window. The rain pours against the glass,

and the boughs of the tree beat back and forth. Mary comes

down the stairs dressed in plain travelling clothes. She

carries her bag in one hand. She hears the familiar sound of

daily classroom recitations.

 

FRENCH STUDENT'S VOICE

Je cherche

Tu cherches

Ell cherahe

Nous cherohons

Vous cherchez

Elba cherohent

 

The French lesson dies away and we hear Mrs. Lowood's voice.

 

MRS. LOWOOD'S VOICE

Agnes ---! John Quincy Adams did

not follow John Adams as President.

 

Mary smiles. In the distance some young girl's fingers falter

awkwardly over the melancholy chords of Traumerei. Mary

reaches the bottom of the stairway and passes the big, fumed

oak grandfather's clock which stands with majestic infinity

of time, reminding all tardy students that it is later than

they know. As she passes it, it rings the hour. She looks at

its friendly, familiar face, and gives it a little pat of

farewell. O.S. we hear a sweeping girl's voice reciting the

final verse of "The Chambered Nautilus."

 

GIRL'S VOICE

Build thee more stately mansions,

0 my soul,

As the swift seasons roll;

Leave thy low-vaulted past!

Let each new temple, nobler than

the last

Shut thee from heaven with a dome

more vast,

Till thou at length art free,

Leaving thins outgrown shell by

life's unresting sea;;

 

With this burst of poetic encouragement, Mary crosses the

hallway, opens the door and passes out of Highcliffe Academy,

closing the door behind her.

 

FADE OUT

 

FADE IN

 

INT. FACTORY - LA JEUNESSE COSMETIC COMPANY - DAY

 

MED. CLOSEUP of a column of white powder falling from an

oscillating sifter. The powder falls into a large barrel, but

the column of powder and its attendant dust hide from view

the three figures behind it. We hear the throaty voice of

Mrs. Redi.

 

MRS. REDI'S VOICE

That's enough.

 

There is a click as the apparatus is turned off. The powder

stops falling. Three people are disclosed. Mary, still in her

travelling suit; Mrs. Redi, a neat, businesslike woman, with

firm features and a steady eye.

 

Her hair is extremely well coifed. Not a strand is out of

place. Her clothes are covered by a long, white surgeon' s

coat of immaculate linen. The third person is a workman,

dressed in a white smock and wearing a long, snouted,

inhalator mask, which he removes, revealing a benign and

smiling face.

 

Mrs. Redi rubs a bit of the powder on the palm of her hand.

She examines it critically.

 

MRS. REDI

(to Joseph)

It seems all right, Joseph.

(turning to Mary with a

strained smile)

You see, we do keep up the quality

of La Jeunesse products in spite of

Jacqueline's absence.

 

She and Mary start down the line of machines toward a funnel

and tube arrangement set up for filling bottles. The CAMERA

DOLLYS WITH them.

 

MARY

(as they go, evidently

resuming a previous

discussion)

But you must know someone who has

seen or heard of my sister.

 

MRS. REDI

(coldly)

I'm afraid not.

 

They reach the bottle-filling apparatus. Mrs. Redi lifts one

of the bottles and holds it up to the light.

 

MRS. REDI

Your sister had many friends --but

they were not my friends. I was

only the manager of her plant.

 

She sets down the bottle and they move on. The CAMERA GOES

WITH them. Mary, embarrassed, looks at her. They have reached

a machine which pours luke-warm cleansing cream into great

jars. As one of the jars slides out from the machine, Mrs.

Redi picks it up, rubs a bit of cream from the top of the jar

onto the back of her hand, and judges the rapidity with which

the cream dissolves at body temperature. Evidently it meets

with her approval, for she passes on and goes toward her

office.

 

Mary goes with her. At the door they stop a moment.

 

MARY

Mrs. Redi, there's one thing —-with

Jacqueline gone, how do you carry

on the business? What do you do

with the receipts? How do you sign

checks--?

 

MRS. REDI

(smiling)

Mary, I'm amazed. Didn't Jacqueline

tell you? She sold the business to

me at least eight months ago. It's

my business now.

 

MARY

I didn't know.

 

MRS. REDI

(still smiling)

Yes —— and I must say I've done

very well with it -- perhaps even

better than Jacqueline.

 

They move on toward Mrs. Redi's office.

 

INT. SALON - LA JEUNESSE -DAY.

 

8Mary and Mrs. Redi come into the salon. Beauty operators are

at work on patrons in several of the booths. The modernistic

glass walls, some patterned with stripes, the mirrors, and

the gleaming gadgets make of this ordinary room a rather

fantastic and distorted place.

 

MARY

There's nothing you can think of --

old letters, anything, that might

give me some hint as to where I

might find Jacqueline?

 

MRS. REDI

Leave me your address, and if I

find anything, I'll get in touch

with you.

 

MARY

I'm stopping at the Chatsworth.

 

MRS. REDI

(with an air

of dismissal)

Thank you, my dear.

 

Mrs. Redi puts her hand on the knob of the door marked

"OFFICE." Mary starts off.

 

INT. SALON — LA JEUNESSE COSMETICS, INC. - DAY

 

Mary passes through the salon. As she passes one booth, a

young woman in the white smock of an operator comes out. This

is Frances, a tense, nervous young woman, with bleached blond

hair and excited, nervous eyes..

 

FRANCES

(with great friendliness)

Why, Mary --

 

MARY

Hello, Frances.

 

FRANCES

How's Miss Jacqueline?

 

MARY

I don't know. That's why I came to

see Mrs. Redi. I'm trying to find

her.

 

FRANCES

You mean Miss Jacqueline's gone,

and you don't know where she is?

 

Mary nods. Frances beckons to Mary, and they pass through a

side door into a corridor that connects the plant with the

street.

 

INT. CORRIDOR - LA JEUNESSE COSMETICS, INC. - DAY

 

It is a narrow, gloomy passage. The two girls come into it

from the side door. Frances fishes a package of cigarettes

from her pocket, takes one, lights it as she speaks.

 

FRANCES

I don't get this. Miss Jacqueline

was always so fond of you -- she

was always talking about you -— had

your picture in her office.

 

MARY

I know. For the first time I'm

beginning to be frightened. I

almost feel as if I'd never known

my sister.

 

FRANCES

Nothing's happened to her. It's

just that I can't understand her

not getting in touch with you.

 

MARY

I can't understand it at all.

 

FRANCES

Well, don't worry. I saw Miss

Jacqueline only a week ago. I saw

her at a little restaurant the boy

friend took me to -- an Italian

place down in the Village —- "The

Dante."

 

MARY

"The Dante?"

 

FRANCES

It's on Peary Street. Just ask the

people who run it. They'll remember

her.

(with reminiscent pride)

People who see Miss Jacqueline

never forget her.

 

MARY

I'll try there.

 

She starts to return to the salon, but Frances indicates to

her there is a short cut to the street by means of the long

hallway. The two girls smile at each other. Frances turns

back into the salon and Mary starts down the corridor.

 

EXT DISPLAY WINDOW & SIDE ENTRANCE - LA JEUNESSE COSMETICS,

INC.- DAY

 

Mary comes out of the side entrance and passes the display

window. She looks up for a moment at the words "La Jeunesse"

and at the peculiar trade-mark of the company. It is on this

peculiar trade—mark, a geometric figure, that the scene

 

DISSOLVES

 

EXT.STREET CORNER - PEARY STREET - GREENWICH VILLAGE

 

It is after three o'clock, and the street is alive with

children. A covey of them flash past on roller skates, tailed

by one poor urchin with only one skate, who strives

desperately to keep up with the tail end of the procession.

Mary, coming around the corner, has to draw back half a step

to got out of his way.

 

A horse—drawn laundry truck stands at the curb on the

opposite side of the street, and a man is busily lifting down

bundles of soiled wash. On the other side Of the street is

the Dante. It is an Italian restaurant, a half-flight below

the street level. The name and the word "Restaurant" are

written on the glass in gold letters.

 

In the lower left hand corner of the window is a cardboard

sign, hand-lettered to read "Rooms for Rent". Above the

doorway is a poly-chrome bust of Dante. Mary crosses the

street to enter the Dante. A young man, Jason Hoag, comes

around the corner. He is a man about thirty-five years old,

and rather poorly dressed in an ordinary business suit and

trench coat Under one arm he carries a load of books. He

stops and looks at Mary with interest. She continues on,

going down the steps, under the Dante statue, and into the

restaurant. Jason looks after her.

 

INT DINING ROOM - DANTE RESTAURANT - DAY

 

This is a fairly good-sized room, with benches along the

walls and many small tables. Along one wall is a crudely

painted mural, a reproduction of the famous painting which

shows Dante's first meeting with Beatrice. Dante is passing

along the cobbled street, and Beatrice, with two companions,

large, flourishing wenches, is casting him a coy look over

her shoulder in passing. Directly under the feet of the poet

is a small table for one patron. On a back counter stands an

enormous, shining metal coffee machine. This is a patented

contraption for making coffee. The entire machine is

contrived to serve only one small purpose ——to make a cup of

coffee by driving steam through ground coffee. Near this

machine and flanking the door into the kitchen are fake palms

in wooden tubs. There is a door leading to the house hallway,

and through this door we can see the newel post of the

stairway leading to the rooms above. On most of the tables,

platters of antipasto have been arranged in readiness for the

dinner hour. When Mary enters, the restaurant is empty, but

echoes to the sound of a rich female voice singing with great

sentimental emphasis the words of "Care Mio Ben." Mary looks

around, hesitates a moment, and then starts toward the back

of the restaurant, as if following the source of the singing.

At the swinging door which separates the restaurant from the

kitchen Mary hesitates a moment, then knocks timidly. The

singing continues, and realizing that her knock will not be

heard above it, Mary shyly pushes open the door.

 

INT. KITCHEN - DANTE RESTAURANT - DAY

 

This is a cluttered, busy, steaming kitchen. In one corner at

a little table Mr. Romari, the proprietor, in a waiter's

uniform, is busily folding napkins. Mrs. Romari herself from

whose bosom come the sounds of

 

"Caro Mio Ben," can be seen through a cloud of steam behind a

boiling, kettle of spaghetti. She is a tall, gracious Italian

of sentiment and humor. Her pet pigeon in close attendance at

her feet. This bird follows her wherever she goes, hopping

about the floor at her heels. As Mrs. Romari wants to lift a

kettle of spaghetti from the stove and carry it to a center

table, she softly kicks the pigeon out on her way with a

practiced backward sweep of her slippered foot. Her turn

brings her face to face with Mary as she enters. Both the

Romaris look at her questioningly.

 

MARY

I'm worry to bother you. I want to

ask you about my sister.

 

ROMARI

(getting up)

Yes?

 

MARY

I thought you might know her. She

was seen here about a week ago. Her

name is Jacqueline Gibson.

 

ROMARI

(shrugging)

I don't know no Gibson. This is a

restaurant. Many people come here.

 

MARY

She's very beautiful.

 

Romari shrugs again.

 

MARY (CONT'D)

I wish I could tell you what she

looked like -- I know you'd

remember her, She is tall --with

dark hair --

 

Romari shrugs. This all means nothing to him.

 

MARY

Once you'd seen my sister you'd

never forget her.

 

MRS. ROMARI

(interrupting; to Romari)

Giacomo -- la bellisslina madonna —-

 

ROMARI

Maybe.

 

MRS. ROMARI

(to Mary)

Let me look at you -- you could be

her sister

 

MARY

(smiling)

Yes —— yes, if she made that much

impression on you, I'm sure it was

Jacqueline.

 

MRS. ROMARI

She's not been here for a long

time.

 

MARY

But she was here?

 

MRS. ROMARI

Oh yes, yes. One day a beautiful

car comes here. This beautiful lady

in furs gets out. There is a

handsome man with her, and the

chauffeur The lady rents one of

our upstairs rooms. The chauffeur

changes the lock on the door. Then

the lady never comes back --not to

live, anyhow. She came back three,

four times, but always alone and

just to eat.

 

Mary shakes her head in puzzlement.

 

MARY

You mean she just came here, rented

the room, locked it, and left?

 

MRS. ROMARI

Yes -- and pays the rent every

month.

 

MARY

Could you let me see that room? If

it is hers, there might be

something there to help me find my

sister.

 

ROMARI

(shaking his head)

No -- the rent in paid. The lady

asked us to promise, I wouldn't

open the door.

 

MARY

Please.

 

Romari shakes his head.

 

MARY (CONT'D)

(turning to Mrs. Romari,

pleading)

It's important

 

Mrs. Romari looks at her kindly.

 

DISSOLVE

 

INT. UPPER HALLWAY - DAUTE - DAY

 

Mary and the Romaris. It is a bleak hallway with a narrow

strip of worn carpet running down the exact middle of the

floor space. A picture of St. Francis of Assisi, surrounded

by fluttering white birds, hangs on the wall, a little bit

askew. Mrs. Romari and Mary stand near the stairway railing,

with the pigeon in close attendance on Mrs. Romari. Romari,

with a toolbox at his feet, is at the door, on which is the

number "7". He has taken off the bottom hinge and is now

striking a last few blows to remove the pin from the top

hinge.

 

As he works, a girl -- Mimi -- crosses in the background from

one hallway door to another. She is a tall, thin blonde and

is wearing a faded bathrobe. She has a handkerchief over her

lips, and is coughing dismally. She closes the door behind

her.

 

ROMARI

Fo come ti pare. To desiderare

sempre di vedere che cosa c'era in

quella stanza.

 

MARY

(turning to Mrs. Romari)

What did he say?

 

MRS. ROMARI

(translating)

He says he always wanted to see the

inside of that room anyway.

 

The top hinge comes off. Mr. Romari opens the door, and the

three press forward.

 

INT. JACQUELINE'S ROOM - DAY

 

The CAMERA IS SHOOTING OVER the shoulders and PAST the half

lost profiles of Mary and the Romaris, as they look into the

room. It is a room that is empty except for two objects. From

a pipe overhead is suspended a hangman's noose and beneath it

stands a little gilt chair. There is nothing else.

 

DISSOLVE

 

INT. DINING ROOM - DANTE - DAY

 

MED. SHOT of Jason Hoag. He is standing shyly beside the

coffee machine while Mr. Romari draws a cup of the coffee.

Jason watches Romari while he pulls the various levers,

releases the clouds of steam and finally pulls out the little

demi—tass and puts it on a little tray. While Jason watches,

he listens to conversation going on nearby.

 

POLICEMAN'S VOICE

I tell you, young lady, when a

thing like this comes up, you've

got to go to the police. What do

you think people pay taxes for? I

ain't just to keep us chasing after

crooks and regulating traffic.

We're supposed to help everybody.

You gotto go to the police about

your sister, Miss.

 

Romari starts out of scene with the little cup of coffee. The

CAMERA PANS with him as he brings the coffee to Mary who is

seated with Mrs. Romari at one of the tables under the mural.

A policeman stands beside them. The policeman is in a heavy

blue sweater, with his coat over his arm, his uniform cap on

the back of his belt and all the metal weight of his

impedimenta can be seen hanging from his belt, handcuffs,

revolver, billy, etc. Jason comes hesitantly into the scene.

He addresses the policeman.

 

JASON

I've had some experience with the

Bureau of Missing Persons

 

POLICEMAN

Yeah -- well, Mr. Hoag, lost

persons are the concern of the

Missing Persons Bureau.

 

ROMARI

You're a poet, Jason. You stick to

your poetry.

 

JASON

In a way that makes everything my

business.

 

MARY

(a little hesitantly to

Jason)

Were you going to make a

suggestion?

 

JASON

Yes. I was going to tell you to

look into your own heart -- do you

really want to find your sister?

 

Mary looks affronted. Mrs. Romari bursts out laughing in rich

good humor.

 

MRS. ROMARI

Ah, my Jason -- always laughing --

always trying to help others.

(to Mary)

He's a good boy, Miss -- he just

talks that way.

 

JASON

(with a little smile to

Mary)

I'm a good boy, but no one listens

to what I say.

 

POLICEMAN

You do what I tell you, young lady,

and go to the Missing Persons

Bureau for your sister.

 

MARY

(turning from Jason to the

policeman and starting to

rise)

If you'll give me the address.

 

INT. BUREAU OF MISSING PERSONS - DAY

 

FULL SHOT. A long counter divides the room in half. On one

side are the filing cabinets, records, and office equipment

used by the policemen who service this heartbreak house.

Behind the desk, protected by steel wickets, sit half a dozen

policemen taking down dates.

 

CAMERA DOLLIES SLOWLY FORWARD parallel to the counter. As it

moves along, we hear the voice of the petitioners describing

their loved ones.

The same flat, unemotional professional voice seems to ask

the routine questions at each of the different wickets.

 

FIRST VOICE (A MAN)

She was only sixteen --

 

FIRST POLICEMAN'S VOICE

Had she ever run away before?

 

SECOND POLICEMAN'S VOICE

What did he have on when last seen?

 

SECOND VOICE (A WOMAN)

(tearfully)

He went out without his hat or his

coat. It's very cold for such an

old man -—

 

THIRD POLICEMAN'S VOICE

Any identifying marks or

characteristics, scars,

amputations, tattoo marks, speech

impediments?

 

THIRD VOICE (A MAN)

No, none.

 

CAMERA DOLLIES UP to the last wicket where Mary stands.

 

POLICEMAN'S VOICE

Any further details?

 

MARY

She sold her business about eight

months ago to Mrs. Esther Redi.

 

POLICEMAN

What relation are you to the

missing person?

 

MARY

Sister.

 

POLICEMAN

Sign here.

 

Mary starts to sign.

 

REVERSE ANGLE - on the other side of the wicket. Two men

stand in the f.g., but not together. In the b.g. we see

Mary's back as she signs the police report. The man in the

center is Paul Radeau, a big man with iron-gray hair. He

appears entirely oblivious of everything around him. The

second man is Irving August, a skip-trace artist.

His derby is dulled by the mists of many winters, and his

dark eyes are fastened upon Mary. It is obvious that he has

been listening as she made out her report. Mary finishes

signing the report and turns away from the wicket. She takes

scarcely more than a single step when she finds herself

confronted by Irving August, who smiles at her.

 

AUGUST

I'm Irving August, private

investigator. I think I can help

you. Here's my card.

 

He produces a business card which he hands to Mary. Mary

takes the card and glances at it as August continues.

 

AUGUST

The name may not mean anything to

you, young lady, but say the word

and I'll have your sister for you

in forty-eight hours.

 

MARY

(impressed)

You can?

 

AUGUST

(gesturing expansively)

Look, sister', Manhattan is only

nine miles long and four and one

half miles wide. I ain't never been

off it. I know it like you know

your own back yard. You get me a

small retainer --say fifty bucks,

and I'll get your sister for you. I

guarantee

 

MARY

I haven't any money but I'll get a

job and --

 

Irving August's enthusiasm vanishes.

 

AUGUST

Lady, this kind of work costs

money. I got to cover all the

hospitals, the morgue -- that's the

first place you got to go and it

ain't pleasant -- the morgue -—

 

He finishes his speech by shaking his head. Mary turns away

and goes out of scene. August is standing, staring

disgustedly after her when a hand touches him on the shoulder

and he turns to face Paul Radeau.

 

RADEAU

You know who I am, August?

 

AUGUST

(suddenly tense

and cautious)

Sure I do.

 

RADEAU

Then you know that if I give you a

little advice, it'll be good

advice.

 

AUGUST

Yeah —- sure.

 

RADEAU

That girl was looking for

Jacqueline Gibson. I'd forget it if

I were you.

 

AUGUST

Okay, Mr. Radeau, it's forgot.

 

Radeau nods appreciatively and goes ponderously away. Irving

August watches him go, his eyes sharp with avarice and

suspicion. With quick steps, August crosses to the wicket

where Mary had given her report.

 

AUGUST

Hey, Danny, get me the file on

Jacqueline Gibson, will you?

 

The policeman turns to the file.

 

DISSOLVE IN

 

EXT. BELLEVUE HOSPITAL MOHMJE - DAY

 

The bulwarks and gangplank are in the f.g. The street and

wharf at river level. Beyond that there are the sidewalk and

the two doors leading into the morgue. The river is not seen,

although the sound of tugboat and barge whistles comes o.s.

The street and sidewalk are wet, as if a drizzling rain had

recently fallen, One of these doors is open and from it comes

a procession of dock workers carrying cheap pine coffins. The

other door is closed, Above both doors are printed the words:

 

NEW YORK CITY MORGUE

 

Over the door from which the pine boxes are being taken is

another legend carved into the stone:

 

HE CALLETH ALL HIS CHILDREN BY THEIR NAME.

 

Out of the second door Mary emerges. Her face is white and

drawn. With a shudder she wraps her coat about her and starts

walking, bracing herself against the fresh, cold gusts of

wind blowing from the river. A barge whistle sounds o.s.

dismally.

 

DISSOLVE

 

INT RECEPTION ROOM - FORTESCUE, HOLLOWAY & WARD - DAY

 

MED. SHOT Mary Gibson and Miss Summers, the receptionist,

Miss Summers wears horn—rimmed glasses and a oriijp white

shirtwaist. In front of her is a plaque with the inscription:

 

FORTESCUE, HOLLOWAY & WARD

ADMIRALTY LAWYERS

 

Miss Summers is reading questions from a form reception pad

and filling out the answers.

 

MISS SUMMERS

Whom do you wish to see?

 

MARY

Mr. Gregory Ward, please.

 

MISS SUMMERS

And what is it about, Miss Gibson?

 

MARY

(her voice almost a

whisper)

A personal matter —— I was given

Mr. Ward's name --

 

MISS SUMMERS

May I ask who gave you his name?

 

Mary thinks a moment, and as she thinks all the horror of her

trip to the morgue and what she has seen is reflected in

her face and voice.

 

MARY

The morgue ——

 

Miss Summers looks up at her in surprise, but already Mary is

beginning to faint. As she crumples, we IRIS OUT.

 

INT. GREGORY WARD'S PRIVATE OFFICE - DAY

 

IRIS IN on a CLOSEUP of Mary's face as seen through a

 

glass of water which she is sipping, Gregory Ward is holding

the glass and over the shot we hear his voice.

 

GREGORY'S VOICE

Do you feel all right?

 

CAMERA PULLS BACK to include Gregory Ward seated beside Mary,

who is reclining on a couch in his office. He is a man in his

middle thirties, handsome and well—dressed in a quietly,

professional way. He takes the glass away from Mary's lips

and passes it to Miss Summers who is beside him.

 

MARY

I feel like an idiot —— fainting in

a stranger's office.

 

Miss Summers, with a considerate look to see that Mary is all

right, starts out of the room with the glass of water.

 

GREGORY

(smiling)

We're not exactly strangers, Mary.

Jacqueline spoke about you often. I

suppose she told you about me,

 

MARY

No...At the morgue they told me a

Mr. Gregory Ward had made inquiries

about Jacqueline.

 

GREGORY

The Morgue? No wonder you fainted.

(he pauses)

I wish you had come to me first.

 

MARY

Then you know where Jacqueline is?

 

GREGORY

(shakes his head

negatively)

But I'd give a great deal to know.

 

MARY

(spunkily)

Why?

 

GREGORY

(smiling)

I love your sister, Mary. I love

her very much.

 

There is a little silence while Mary looks at him steadily,

then she half smiles. He leans over and pats her hand.

 

GREGORY

It's easy to understand now, isn't

it?

 

Mary nods.

 

GREGORY

(speaking in a low voice,

almost as if to himself)

A man would look anywhere for her,

Mary. There is something exciting

and unforgettable about her -—

something you never get hold of —-

something that keeps a man

following after her.

 

MARY

Because I loved Jacqueline I

thought I knew her. Today I found

out such strange things

——frightening things. I saw a

hangman's noose that she had

hanging -— waiting —— I feel as if

I'd never known her.

 

GREGORY

(smiling)

At least I can explain that, Mary.

Your sister had a feeling about

life —— that it wasn't worth living

unless one could end it. I helped

her get that room.

 

MARY

Weren't you afraid?

 

GREGORY

Afraid she might commit suicide?

(he shakes his head)

People who commit suicide don't

talk about it. That room made her

happy in some strange way I

couldn't understand. She lived in a

world of her own fancy. She didn't

always tell the truth. In fact -—

I'm afraid she didn't know what the

truth was.

(he pauses for a moment,

and looks at Mary)

There were many things about

Jacqueline I didn't understand, and

yet, without understanding, I had

to be with her —— to see her —— to

touch her —— in order to be happy.

It's hard to explain to a

youngster.

 

MARY

(a little

sharply)

I'm not a youngster. I can

understand.

 

He looks at her.

 

GREGORY

The colors returning to your

cheeks. You look as if you were

coming back to life. Are you sure

you didn't faint because you were

hungry?

 

Mary looks astonished, and then laughs to herself.

 

MARY

You know...I didn't have lunch.

 

He looks at his wristwatch, and chuckles.

 

GREGORY

It's nearly six. Time for dinner,

I'd say.

 

He extends his hand to her to help her up. She takes it.

 

DISSOLVE

 

EXT CHATSWORTH HOTEL FOR WOMEN - NIGHT

 

DOLLY SHOT of Mary and Gregory Ward as they come up along the

street in front of the hotel. There is a very heavy mist and

Ward carries an umbrella.

 

MARY

Thank you. It was a lovely dinner.

 

GREGORY

Good.

 

MARY

(thoughtfully)

But I reel guilty.

It doesn't seem right for me to

enjoy myself with Jacqueline gone.

 

Gregory looks at her.

 

GREGORY

You can't make it your life's

work looking for Jacqueline.

(with a smile))

You'll have to do other things...

live...get some enjoyment out of

life. I hope you'll let me help

you.

 

MARY

(smiling)

Thank you...goodnight.

 

GREGORY

Goodnight, Mary.

 

He tips his hat and turns away, as she starts in to the

hotel.

 

TNT LOBBY CHATSWORTH HOTEL - NIGHT

 

It is a conventional hotel lobby. Mary comes in, and as she

crosses the lobby, flrving August rises from a straight back

chair set against a pillar, and comes to meet her.

 

AUGUST

I've been waitin' for you Miss

Gibson. I want you to know I've

decided to take your case.

 

MARY

Mr. August, I'm not at all sure -

 

AUGUST

(interrupting)

Look. Don't say a word. I've taken

an interest in you and I'm willin'

to put up my time to help you.

Besides, I think I know where to

find your sister.

 

MARY

Where?

 

AUGUST

Wait a minute.

This has got a lot of angles.

You've got to take it easy. Do you

know a Mrs. Redi?

 

MARY

Yes. She bought my sister's

business.

 

AUGUST

That's what she told you. I looked

it up at the Hall of Records. Your

sister deeded her the business as

an outright girt.

 

MARY

Why would Mrs. Redi lie to me?

 

AUGUST

That's what I tried to find

out. I went to La Jeunesse ——

(he mispronounces as badly

as he can)

-- used a phony health inspector's

badge —— they let me go through the

works -- all but one room. That

room was locked. I'd like to see

the inside of that room.

 

MARY

You think my sister is there?

 

AUGUST

You can't tell.

 

MARY

Can we go there now?

 

AUGUST

Sister, you can't just go breaking

into places. There's a night

watchman down there and locks on

the door.

 

MARY

If my sister's in that room, it

won't make any difference about

warrants- and things, I want to go

there.

 

AUGUST

(thoughtfully)

I don't know if I want to go with

you or not.

 

Mary starts out and, a little reluctantly, August follows

her.

 

EXT. STREET NEAR LA JEUNESSE - NIGHT

 

Mary and August come across tho street and look in the

windows of the cosmetic company. Only the night lights are

burning in the salon. August tries the door rather

perfunctorily. He shakes his head, and with Mary, moves on to

the side door leading into the passageway. From his pocket he

takes a bunch of keys and tries one after another. Finally

one key works and the door swings open. Mary stops in ahead

of August.

 

INT. PASSAGEWAY LA JEUNESSE - NIGHT

 

TWO SHOT of Mary and August. August softly closes the door

behind him. The street light shines through the glass upper

ha-if of the door and invades the dark hallway for a short

distance. They walk softly forward to the place where this

light ends abruptly in the darkness. Here Mary pauses. August

looks at her.

 

AUGUST

I don't like this.

 

MARY

Which room is it?

 

AUGUST

It's the last door at the end of

this hall.

 

Mary starts forward a step or two, the shadows closing around

her until only her face is still in the light. August follows

her. She stops and looks off into the darkness.

 

AUGUST

You scared?

 

MARY

Yes.

 

AUGUST

Let's get out of here.

 

MARY

No.

 

They stand a moment in silence.

 

MARY

You could go on, Mr. August.

You could open the door. I'd stay

right here.

 

August shakes his head.

 

MARY

It's only a little way, Mr. August.

 

AUGUST

I'd like to get out of here.

 

MARY

No.

 

They stand again silently looking down the dark corridor.

 

AUGUST

We can't stand here all night.

 

MARY

You could go and open the door.

 

AUGUST

Listen ——

 

Realizing the futility of argument, he breaks off what he was

going to say, shrugs, and starts down the dark passage. Mary

watches him and retreats a stop or two toward the street in

order to have the comforting light around her again. She

stands there while August's footsteps recede in the darkness.

 

EXT. ENTRANCE OF THE SALON - NIGHT

 

A night watchman, an old man wearing a worn corduroy Norfolk

jacket and a battered hat, with his time clock hanging from a

broad strap around his neck, comes out of a neighboring

store, a flower shop. He carefully closes the door behind him

and goes to the entrance of La Jeunesse. From a key ring

hanging from the leather clock strap he selects one key and

begins to open the door.

 

INT. PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT

 

Mary still stands in the patch of light near the doorway.

Abreast of her is the doorway leading from the hall to the

salon. Through the glass upper half of the door, she sees a

gleam of light in the other room and tiptoes up to the door

and looks out.

 

EXT. SALON LA JEUNESSE - NIGHT

 

From Mary's angle, shooting through the window, can be soon

the night watchman, the beam of his flashlight coursing ahead

of him as he makes his way to a time clock. Ho rings in his

clock.

 

MED. CLOSE SHOT — Mary, nervous and apprehensive, looks

through at the night watchman. She makes a decision and

starts off along the hallway to warn August. She disappears

in the blackness of the unlit portion of the hallway.

 

REVERSE SHOT. At the far end of the hallway the illuminated

square of the street door can be seen, and the little patch

of light near it Nearer the CAMERA a broad streak of light

from a partially open door is between the darkness and the

CAMERA. Mary comes out of tho darkness and into this light.

At the same moment, August comes out of the partially opened

door, blocking out the light for a minute. His shadow goes

ahead of him - contorted and strange. He stands a moment

before Mary; both of his hands clenched tightly against his

stomach. She speaks to him in a whisper.

 

MARY

Mr. August -- the night watchman

 

August makes no answer, but starts walking blindly, swaying a

little, toward the street door. Mary goes with him, walking

at his side, trying to peer into his face.

 

MARY

The night watchman -- he is in the

salon.

 

Still August pays no attention.

 

MARY

Mr. August, what is it? What's the

matter?

 

There is no answer. Ho continues to walk in the same jerky,

pain—gripped fashion, slowly and unsteadily, toward the

light. They are engulfed in the darkness.

 

MED. CLOSE SHOT - August and Mary from the street angle, as

they come out of the darkness. Mary is very agitated and

worried. August still continues to plod blindly forward. Mary

reaches out to touch his shoulder.

 

MARY

Mr. August --

 

Her hand touches his shoulder. Almost as if unable to bear

this trifling weight, he collapses suddenly at her foot. She

looks down.

 

CLOSEUP of Irving August's arm on the floor. It is sprawled

awkwardly out The sleeve is darkly stained, and there is a

widening stain of blood upon the floor. Mary's slippered foot

step back so that the blood will not touch her.

 

Mary screams. The narrow hallway rings, echoes and reechoes

with the sound.

 

Mary runs wildly toward the door, fumbles with the knob and

pulls it brusquely open. As she does so, the beam of the

night watchman's searchlight comes in from the loft. O.S. a

wild bell starts to ring madly as Mary bolts in panic.

 

EXT. STREET IN FRONT OF LA JEUNESSE - NIGHT

 

Mary comes out of tin deer and starts running down the

street. Behind her the lights of both the hall and the salon

blaze. The bell rings o.s. she looks ever her shoulder and

continues running.

 

EXT. SUBWAY ENTRANCE - NIGHT

 

Mary, still running, comes down the street. She looks back

for a moment and then goes down the stairs to the subway.

 

The CAMERA REMAINS on the subway entrance a moment so that it

can be clearly seen that this entrance is marked:

 

FOURTEENTH STREET

 

DISSOLVE

 

INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT

 

It is late, and this particular car is almost empty. There is

Mary,.sitting huddled in one corner under the map of the

route which the I.R.T. so thoughtfully provides. Mary sits,

still and white, obviously shaken. Her coat collar is drawn

protectively against her throat. Opposite her are a pair of

young lovers, their hands clasped, who look blissfully into

each others eyes.

 

The conductor comes shambling into the car. He leeks at Mary

and takes a step toward her, teetering on practiced tees,

disdaining the overhead strap.

 

CONDUCTOR

You know where you're going, lady?

 

Mary nods.

 

CONDUCTOR

You've been to the end of the line

and back again -- hope you enjoyed

the ride.

 

He passes on. Mary looks after him, frightened. As he reaches

the end of the car, the subway train begins to come to a

step. The two lovers get up, their hands still tightly

clasped.

 

INSERT A SIGN reading: "14TH STREET"

 

BACK TO SCENE. The train comes to a stop. Mary glances up.

The subway door glides open. The two lovers sidle crab-wise

through it, never relinquishing their clasps on each other's

hands, and through this same door come three men, three

convivial drunks.

 

GROUP SHOT of the three drunks as they seat themselves

opposite Mary. The middle drunk carries the heaviest load.

The ether two support him, laughing and rearing as they make

him comfortable between them. All three wear top hats and

dark overcoats The hat of tin man in the middle is tilted

over one eye.

 

MED. CLOSE SHOT of Mary as she looks at the three men across

from her. Over this shot comes the sound of the subway train

stopping.

 

THREE SHOT of the three men. One of them leans across the

supposedly drunken man between them to offer a light for the

ether's cigarette. The man in the middle lolls awkwardly,

swaying- between them.

 

CLOSEUP of Mary as she stares at the man in the middle. Some

familiar chord of memory is touched in her mind.

 

THREE SHOT of the three men.. The car jolts and the hat

slides off the middle man's head. We see that the man is

Irving August, and that he is dead. One of the men quickly

reaches down, picks up the hat and puts it back on August's

head.

 

CLOSEUP of Mary. Her fear is confirmed. Looking around her

cautiously, she gets up and starts down the aisle. At the end

of the car she leeks back.

 

FULL SHOT - the three men sitting at the opposite end of the

car. One of the men is whispering to the other man pointing

to Mary.

 

FULL SHOT of Mary as she quickly opens the door and goes into

the next car. She walks down the length of the car. A man is

sleeping. She shakes his shoulder.

 

MARY

Please --- please ——

 

The man only mutters something in his sleep. Mary continues

down the car's length to where a drunken girl sits, her head

lolling.

 

MARY

I want your help, please.

 

The drunken woman merely looks at her blankly. The cars are

coming to a stop again. The door opens and the conductor

comes through. Mary seizes his arm.

 

MARY

These men in there —— don't let

them get out.

 

CONDUCTOR

What's the matter now?

 

MARY

One of them has been murdered!

 

The conductor looks at her dubiously. The cars have come to a

stop. He looks into the next car and then glances down at

her.

 

CONDUCTOR

(crossly)

What men?

 

Mary turns and looks back toward the car she just left.

 

LONG SHOT of the car as Mary sees it. It is completely

deserted.

 

TWO SHOT - Mary and the conductor. The subway train is

starting to move again.

 

MARY

But they were there.

 

The conductor looks at her and merely observes.

 

CONDUCTOR

Yeah.

 

DISSOLVE IN

 

EXT. REVOLVING DOORS OF COOPER BUILDING - DAY

 

MED. CLOSE SHOT of a newspaper vender calling:

 

VENDOR

Wuxtra! Murder! Murder! Read all

about it!

 

He is standing directly in front of the revolving doors and

behind him, through the glass of the doorway, we can see Mary

waiting, her face anxious and strained as she peers out onto

the street. A constant stream of passersby goes by the

building. Out of this stream Gregory Ward emerges, goes

through the revolving doors, and we see him met by Mary, who

begins excitedly to talk to him. He shakes his head, takes

her arm and walks her off.

 

INT COFFEE COUNTER — DAY

 

This is a very small counter and stand with a few tables near

the window -- the sort of restaurant that is open only for

breakfast and lunch and is patronized by office workers who

can content themselves with a sandwich and a cup of coffee.

The scene opens on the newsboy as he comes into the

restaurant and goes up to the counter. The waiter behind the

counter buys a paper and brings it with an order of one cup

of coffee and a glass of milk to Mary and Ward, who are

sitting at a small table. The newsboy goes on outside and

over the scene from time to time we hear his voice crying,

"Murder! Read all about it!"

 

Gregory Ward takes the glass of milk and slides it down the

counter in front of Mary. He opens up the paper and scans it

carefully. Mary watches him anxiously, and turns to him.

 

GREGORY

This is about another murder —— a

woman at Fifty Second Street

 

MARY

But you do believe me?

 

GREGORY

(after a little pause)

The important thing is, the

police won't believe you.

 

MARY

I saw him on the floor. He

was cut -—

(indicates her own belly)

--here. The blood was running out.

He was dead. I'm sure of it.

Then on the subway I saw him ——

white —— and the men holding him up

between them.

 

Gregory takes a sip of his coffee and speaks gently, but

unable to hide his disbelief.

 

GREGORY

Yes, of course —— but the police

would say you'd probably had a bad

dream.

 

MARY

He was a kind little man in his way

—— and I made him go down that hall

into the darkness. I made him do

it.

 

GREGORY

Drink your milk.

 

Mary looks up, startled at this note of command.

 

MARY

I don't like to be ordered to

do anything.

 

Gregory looks at her for a moment.

 

GREGORY

I'm sorry. I didn't intend to

treat you like a child.

 

MARY

But you have treated me that

way.

 

GREGORY

I won't do it again. We're friends.

I'll never order you about again.

 

He puts out his hand and Mary takes it.

 

GREGORY

(smiling)

However, I won't say that I'll

not take charge occasionally,

and I'm going to take charge

new. I've a job for you.

 

MARY

A job?

 

GREGORY

You told me you were pretty good

with youngsters. Today I bumped

into an old friend of mine, Mrs.

Wheeler She runs a settlement

house down in the Village and is

looking for a kindergarten teacher.

 

M