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Scripts Collected:

AMERICAN GANGSTER:
AMERICAN GANGSTER

Written by

Steven Zaillian

FINAL SHOOTING
SCRIPT
July 27,
2006

1 EXT. JAZZ CLUB - DAY

1

A tall, handsome man in a dark suit emerges from a Lincoln

Towncar and enters a small, basement R&B/Jazz club.

2 INT. JAZZ CLUB - DAY

2

He approaches a booth, says something in the din to the men

there, then calmly shoots them and exits.

AMERICAN GANGSTER

3 EXT. HARLEM STREET - DAY (NOVEMBER)

3

Bumpy Johnson, an elderly but still sturdy black man,

elegantly dressed - cashmere overcoat, gloves, Homburg -
stands in falling snow atop a flatbed truck - as he does
every Thanksgiving - tossing down turkeys to the poor -
like a benign king.
 Legend: Harlem

A younger man, the gunman from the club - Frank Lucas -

Bumpy's driver/bodyguard/collector/protege - watches from
below.

4 INT/EXT. STREET / DISCOUNT EMPORIUM - DAY (NOVEMBER)

4

Whispering gunfire from a television set veiled by

foreground snow: Soldiers in the jungles of Vietnam in
1970. A rich, cultured, authoritative voice offers:
BUMPY O/S
This is the problem. This is what's
wrong with America.

The war footage multiplies by twenty: a stack of TVs with

price tags dangling from the knobs behind a display window.

BUMPY O/S
It's gotten so big you can't find your
way.

People on the sidewalk, out of respect or fear, part to let

Frank and Bumpy and Bumpy's German shepherd pass.

BUMPY
The corner grocery's a supermarket.
Candy store's a MacDonald's. And this
place.
(MORE)
(CON
T)

2.

4 CONTINUED:
4
BUMPY (CONT'D)
Where's the pride of ownership here?
Where's the personal service? Does
anybody work here?

Inside, the emporium is vast, with aisles that seem to

stretch off into infinity. The TVs give way to a display
window full of Japanese stereo componentry.

BUMPY
What right do they have cutting out the
suppliers, pushing all the middlemen out,
buying direct from the manufacturer -
Sony this, Toshiba that, all them Chinks -
putting Americans out of work?

He's not really asking Frank, so Frank doesn't answer.

 BUMPY
What am I supposed to do with a place
like this, Frank? Who am I supposed to
ask for, the assistant manager?
(pause)
This is the problem. This is the way it
is now: You can't find the heart of
anything to stick the knife.

Bumpy stops before a display of cameras and stares in.

They're all pointed at him as a pain grips his chest and he
sinks to his knees. Frank kneels down.

FRANK
What is it?

Bumpy seems unable to speak, looks to Frank confused.

FRANK
Somebody call an ambulance!

But the store suddenly seems empty. Frank yells into the
emporium but can't be heard above the Muzak and the cash
registers ringing up sales Bumpy will never see a piece of.
Looking up at Frank, Bumpy manages weakly -

BUMPY
Forget it, Frank. No one's in charge.

5 EXT. BUMPY'S APARTMENT - DAY

5

Limousines from the funeral disgorge mourners: family,

friends, celebrities, politicians. Cops on horseback move
through the enormous crowd that has gathered to watch. FBI
agents in cars snap pictures with long lenses of Italian
mobsters like Albert Tosca.

(CO
NT)

3.

5 CONTINUED: 5

REPORTER
- whose passing has brought together a
who's who of mourners on this chilly
afternoon. The Governor has come down.
The mayor of New York - its Chief of
Police and Commissioner - sports and
entertainment luminaries -

A white Bentley pulls up, disgorging Jackie Fox - the

original Superfly - and his entourage. With his trademark
tinted Gucci glasses on, he happily poses for anyone with a
 camera - including the Feds - before going inside.

6 INT. BUMPY'S APARTMENT - LATER 6

The report continues on a TV no one's really watching here:

a March of Time-like history of Bumpy Johnson, famed Harlem
gangster, Robin Hood and killer.

REPORTER ON TV
He was a Great Man, according to the
eulogies. A giving man. A man of the
people. No one chose to include in their
remembrances the word most often
associated with Ellsworth Bumpy Johnson:
Gangster.

Sitting off by himself in Bumpy's elegant garden apartment,

heretofore his private sanctuary, Frank surveys the mourners
circling the place like vultures:

Tango Black, a huge brute, scavenging the catered food and

tended bar ... Jackie Fox, surrounded by his ever-present
coterie of sycophants ... Albert Tosca, an elegant Italian
capo, and an underling, Rossi, at the bar.

TOSCA
White wine, please.

A white man who looks like a banker - and is - sits down

next to Frank.

BANKER
How you doing, Frank?

FRANK
All right.

BANKER
What a loss.
(Frank nods)
How are you otherwise? Things okay
financially?
(CON
T)

4.

6 CONTINUED: 6

Frank doesn't say. It feels unseemly to him to be talking

about money here. He watches Tango carelessly set a watery
glass of ice on an antique inlaid chess table.

BANKER
Bumpy set something up for you?
 Frank excuses himself without an answer, crosses to where
Tango left the glass, and sets it on a coaster.

TANGO
Hey, Frank, get me an ashtray while
you're at it.

Bumpy's German shepherd watches as Frank reaches into his

jacket, revealing a gun nestled in its shoulder holster. He
takes out a handkerchief, wipes the condensation dry, opens
a drawer and removes an ashtray. He holds it out to Tango -
who isn't sure it's not a dare and decides to wander off.

CHARLIE
I know you're hurting, Frank. So am I.

Frank sits back down with Charlie Williams, an older dope

man.

CHARLIE
You going to be all right?

FRANK
Yeah.

CHARLIE
I'm sure Bumpy never told you, but he
made me promise, anything ever happened
to him, I'd make sure you didn't go
without.

FRANK
I'll be fine, Charlie. Half the people
here owed Bumpy money when he died. A
lot of money. If they think I'm going
to forget to collect, they're wrong.

CHARLIE
That's the spirit. Go get them.

On the TV, over archive film and photographs of crime

figures from the 1940's and `50's, the opinion is offered
that Bumpy's death "marks the end of an era ..."

5.

A7 INT. CLASSROOM - NIGHT A7

A figure, his back to us, walks slowly toward a blackboard

like a man to the gallows.
 RICHIE V.O.
I live in fear of hearing my name
called.

PROFESSOR
Mr. Roberts, Give us U.S. vs. Meade -

RICHIE V.O.
Of walking up there, turning around,
knowing every one of them knows more
than I do -

PROFESSOR
Subject, issues, what the determination
was and what it means to us today.

Richie Roberts turns and faces his classmates, all of them a

decade or more younger than him.

7 EXT. MOTEL - NEW JERSEY - DAY

7

Harlem's jagged teeth skyline juts across the river at the

other end of the George Washington Bridge. On this side - a
sledgehammer gripped in Richie's fist, on the move, suddenly
fills the frame.

RICHIE
You know the Number 1 fear of most
people isn't dying; it's public speaking.
They get physically ill. They throw up.

RIVERA
And that's what you want to do for a
living.

RICHIE
I don't like being like that. I want to
beat it.

Armed with the sledgehammer, Richie and his partner - Javy

Rivera - come past a seedy motel office where a TV shows
another report about Bumpy Johnson.

Legend: New Jersey

A motel clerk looks up, glimpses the sledgehammer -

(CON
T)

6.

7 CONTINUED: 7
 CLERK
Hey -

Rivera flashes a New Jersey detective's shield without

breaking stride. Takes a subpoena out of another pocket.

RIVERA
Who's going to do this?

RICHIE
He knows me, he'll take it from me.
I've known him since high school.

RIVERA
Just throw it in, he doesn't take it.
That's good service.

They reach a particular motel room door. Rivera knocks.

The door opens the length of a chain, revealing a wise guy
in an undershirt, who, when he sees the subpoena, start to
close the door -

RIVERA
Throw it -

As Richie flings the subpoena in, the door slams on his

hand. He wails in agony, tries to shoulder it open, hears
the dead bolt lock on the other side, feels Campizi's teeth
bite into his fingers, watches his blood run down the frame.

RIVERA
Down -

Richie hangs down from his hand as the sledgehammer swings

past his head shattering the door -

8 INT/EXT. MOTEL ROOM - CONTINUOUS 8

The door rips from its hinges and the detectives crash in.
The wise guy - Campizi - hurries for the bathroom, slams the
door. This one's hollow and the detectives more easily
break through it -

Campizi tries to climb out the bathroom window. Richie

grabs him, throws him into the shower stall, taking the
plastic curtain down with them, smearing it with blood as
Richie beats at him before Rivera can pull him off.

9 INT. AMBULANCE - MOVING - DAY 9

A male paramedic attends to Campizi's bloodied face while a

female paramedic cleans Richie's bloodied hand.

(CON
T)
 7.

9 CONTINUED: 9

CAMPIZI
I swear to God, Richie, I didn't know it
was you. I would never slam a door on
your hand. Knowingly.

RICHIE
You bit my fuckin hand -

Richie lunges at him, hits him again with his injured hand -
which hurts Richie more than it does Campizi. The
paramedics manage to pull him away.

CAMPIZI
What can we do, Richie? You don't want
to do this. For old times sake, what can
we do? Who do you want? Who can I give
you? You want Big Sal's bookie? You want
his accountant? I'll give him to you.

Richie regards him a moment. A policy ring's accountant

wouldn't be bad. He glances back to his paramedic dabbing
at his bloody hand, and notices she's not bad-looking. She
smiles back.

10 INT. NY POLICE HQ - ENTRANCE/STAIRS - DAY 10

Four men in long black leather coats stride toward like

they own the city. It's impossible to tell if they're cops
or gangsters.

Legend: New York City

11 INT. NEW YORK POLICE ANNEX - PROPERTY ROOM - DAY 11

One of the same undercover cops - Detective Trupo -
scribbles a signature and badge number different from the
one on his gold shield lying next to the voucher requesting
evidence needed in court.

He pushes the voucher under a sign - "All Handguns and

Narcotics Before 10am Next Window" - to a clerk who takes it
past floor-to-ceiling shelves covered with files, plastic
bags bulging with handguns, knives and gambling receipts.
Bulkier items - like shotguns and baseball bats - lie
unwrapped with dangling tags.

The clerk reaches a chain-link cage where the most valuable

items are locked up - narcotics, pornography, cash - checks
the voucher against tags, takes down an old green suitcase.
8.

12 EXT. WAREHOUSE - DAY

12

Trupo's car - a Shelby Mustang - roars up. He climbs out,

crosses to a warehouse with the suitcase as the other three
SIU Princes of the City follow from another car, cradling
grocery bags.

13 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY

13

Trupo snaps the suitcase open revealing five half-kilo bags

of uncut heroin in clear plastic bags. The other cops pull
from the grocery bags: a Pyrex mixing bowl, flour sifter,
boxes of milk-sugar, latex kitchen gloves, a medical scale,
and yellow baggies.

Hands peel back the distinctive black and green "evidence"

tape on the clear plastic bags. Dump the heroin into twenty
yellow baggies. A half-kilo of lactose is poured into each
of the now-empty property room bags.

TRUPO
Now just enough for the reagent test.

He removes one tablespoon of heroin from each of the

baggies, and the now-almost-heroin-free powder is mixed
through the flour sifter, poured back into the clear bags,
the tape resealed, the bags returned to the suitcase.

14 INT. NY COURTROOM - DAY

14

The suitcase and "heroin," and some weapons and money, have
been arranged on an evidence table with the care of a Macy's
display window. Trupo - the officer in charge of the case -
watches the jury files in -
15 EXT. UNDER EXPRESSWAY - DAY
15

A Lincoln Continental pulls up. Trupo climbs out of his

Shelby with a sports bag, crosses to the Lincoln, climbs in
back where an Italian wise guy - Rossi - sits. Trupo unzips
the bag revealing the recut heroin - in the yellow plastic.

ROSSI V/O
This is the French Connection dope.
The same dope Popeye Doyle and Sonny
Grasso took from us.
16 OMIT 16
OMIT

9
.

17 INT. ITALIAN BAR - NY - DAY

17

Frank comes into an empty bar, chairs up on tables. A

middle-aged man mopping up glances up at him as he crosses
to a back room.

ROSSI V/O
They seize it, arrest everybody,
whack it up and sell it back to us.
Our dope. They been living off it for
years, these New York cops.

18 INT. ITALIAN BAR - BACK ROOM - NY - DAY

18

Several ounces of the dope sits in foreground on a table.

ROSSI
They basically control the market with
it. What the fuck has happened to the
world, Frank?

FRANK
Fuckin crooks.

Rossi, who looks more like a middle-aged accountant than the

Italian dope supplier he is, makes two espressos.

ROSSI
Sad about Bumpy.

Behind Frank, a TV airs a report by Walter Cronkite on the

heroin problem among GIs in Vietnam.

ROSSI
Things are never going to be the same in
Harlem. The girls, the clubs, the music -
walk down the street, nobody bothers you
because Bumpy's making sure of it.
(hands Frank one of the
espressos)
How bad is it there now?

18pt FLASHCUTS TO HARLEM

18pt
 Guys barge into a room, steal money from a crap game at
gunpoint - Cops push guys against a bar, empty their pockets
- A dealer shoots another dealer in an alley -

18pt BACK TO THE HOTEL ROOM

18pt

FRANK
It's chaos. Every gorilla for himself.

(C
ONT)

10.

18pt CONTINUED:
18pt

ROSSI
Who can live like that? There has to
be order. That would never happen with
Italians. More important than any one
man's life - is order.

19 EXT. HARLEM - DAY

19

A street sign on a corner: 116th and 8th Avenue.

20 INT. DINER - HARLEM - DAY

20

As is his custom, Frank eats breakfast alone. A middle-

aged waitress appears when he's done, picks up his plate
and refills his coffee.

FRANK
Thank you, Charlene. Last one.

CHARLENE
It's all right with me, Frank, you can
stay all day if you want, but I wouldn't.
It's nice outside.

FRANK
Then maybe I'll have to go for a walk.
Just cause you said so.

She smiles and leaves. Frank pours some sugar in his

coffee. Someone taps on the window and he looks up, sees
two servicemen - one in uniform - one he recognizes.

21 INT. REDTOP'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

21
Frank leads the servicemen up the stairs of a building.

22 INT. REDTOP'S APARTMENT - DAY

22

Corner apartment above the street. A girl sits smoking at

a work table covered with drug-cutting apparatus. Another -
Frank's cutter and sometimes-girlfriend, Red Top - sets a
couple of packets of heroin in front of the servicemen.

RED TOP
On the house for our men in uniform.

SERVICEMAN 1
Why, thank you, sugar, that's very kind.

RED TOP
Thank Frank.

(CONT)

11.

22 CONTINUED:
22

Frank nods, you're welcome before the man can thank him.
The servicemen start cooking up the dope.

FRANK
How's Nate? You seen him?

SERVICEMAN 1
All the time. Nate is everywhere.
He's good. Got himself a club now.

FRANK
Where, Saigon?

SERVICEMAN 1
Bangkok.

SERVICEMAN 2
I don't think he's ever coming home.

Regarding the dope as the servicemen shoot it up -

FRANK
You're gonna have to boot it a couple
times. Cops keep cutting it, selling it,
cutting it -
 SERVICEMAN 1
I don't want to say anything cause the
price is right - but the shit in Nam is
way, way, way, way, way -

He begins to nod out before he can finish the sentence.

23 OMIT
23 OMIT
24 EXT. SOCIAL CLUB - NEWARK - LATE AFTERNOON
24

Across the river, Richie, Rivera and Campizi sit in the car
parked across from a closed social club. A man carrying a
grocery bag comes out and Campizi ducks lower in the seat.

CAMPIZI
That's him.

Newsboy Moriarty's mob accountant puts the grocery bag in

the trunk of a car, climbs in behind the wheel.

25 EXT. NEWARK - SCRAP METAL YARD - LATE AFTERNOON

25

From the parked car they observe the accountant putting

another bag in his trunk.

12.

26 EXT. STREET - NEWARK - LATE AFTERNOON 26

He comes out of another place with another bag. To Campizi -

RICHIE
All right. Get lost. Get out.

Campizi slinks out of the car. Richie and Rivera follow

after Newsboy Moriarty's accountant's car.

27 EXT. PARKING LOT - LATE AFTERNOON 27

They tail the car into a lot, park and watch the accountant
leave his car and get into another car that's parked there.

RIVERA
We gonna stay with him or the car?

Whatever they do, they'll have to decide quick.

RICHIE
 Let's see who comes for the car.

28 EXT. PARKING LOT - NEWARK - NIGHT 28

All the other cars are gone. Rivera climbs into Richie's
with coffee and a Coke in a bag, hands him the can.

RIVERA
Think he made us?

Richie doesn't know. Glances at his watch. Cranes in his

seat to look behind them.
RICHIE
You called for the warrant? Where are
they?

RIVERA
I just called. I called and walked back
here and ten seconds has gone by.

Richie watches an attendant lock up, listens to the street

lamps buzz, grows impatient. Indicating the other car:

RICHIE
We saw him with the slips, Javy.

RIVERA
You saw policy slips? You saw grocery
bags. You don't know what's in them.

(CONT)

13
.

28 CONTINUED:
28

RICHIE
Yes, I do, and so do you, don't give me
that bullshit -

RIVERA
What's the rush? Half an hour the
warrant'll be here -

RICHIE
I got night school.

RIVERA
Guess you're going to miss it.
(Rivera sips at his coffee;
then:)
You know, what you were saying before
 - about throwing up in front of people -
money will take that feeling away.

RICHIE
Not when it's less.

RIVERA
Less than what.

RICHIE
Than what I make now.

RIVERA
No lawyer on earth makes less than a cop.

RICHIE
They do in the Prosecutor's Office.
Three thousand less.
RIVERA
You're fuckin kidding me.

Richie isn't kidding. Rivera stares at him like he's crazy.

Richie checks his watch. He's waited long enough.

RICHIE
Fuck this -

RIVERA
Richie -

Richie gets out, opens the trunk, grabs a Slimjim and

bolt cutters, cuts through a gate chain and strides to the
accountant's car, Rivera following. Richie trips the
passenger door lock and pulls at the trunk release, and, as
he comes around back to search it -

(C
ONT)

14.

28 CONTINUED: 28

RICHIE
Check inside.

Rivera may as well; the damage to the case, if there is one

anymore, is done. He crawls inside the car to look under
the seats and in the glove compartment. Gravely -

RICHIE
Javy ...

Richie's staring into the trunk like there's a body inside.

Rivera comes over, takes a look, sees it's money: stacks of
 it rubber-banded together, spilling from grocery bags - more
than either of them has ever seen. As the trunk closes -

29 EXT. PARKING LOT / RICHIE'S CAR - LATER - NIGHT 29

Richie and Rivera sit in their car in silence, staring out

at the car with the money in it. Eventually -

RICHIE
This isn't a couple of bucks.

RIVERA
It's the same thing. In principle.

RICHIE
We're talking about principle?

RIVERA
Richie, a cop who turns in this kind of
money says one thing: He'll turn in cops
who take money. We'll be pariahs.
RICHIE
We're fucked either way.

RIVERA
Not if we keep it. Only if we don't.
Then we're fucked, you're right. But not
if we keep it.

RICHIE
(more to himself)
Yes, we are.

RIVERA
Goddamn it, did we ask for this? Did we
put a gun to someone's head and say, Give
us your money? Cops kill cops they can't
trust. We can't turn it in.

They regard each other again in silence ...

15.

30 INT. NEWARK POLICE STATION - LATER - NIGHT 30

As a police captain counts the stacks of money, Lou Toback,

Richie's superior from the prosecutors office, walks in, his
night out interrupted by this emergency. He crossed to where
Richie and Rivera sit alone in a corner. Quietly:

TOBACK
How much.
 RICHIE
Nine hundred and eighty thousand.

TOBACK
What happened to the rest?

It's a joke but isn't funny, not even to Toback. He regards

his men who turned it in, then the other cops in the place -
who are watching them and the money being counted. Toback
walks over to the captain, and, quietly:

TOBACK
What're you doing counting this in front
of everybody? Are you out of your fuckin
mind? Take it into a room. Now.

Richie's glance to Rivera says, You're right, we're fucked.

31 INT/EXT. NEWARK POLICE STATION - PRE-DAWN 31

As Richie leaves alone, he's aware of all the eyes on him -

knowing the other cops' looks don't signify awe or respect,
but contempt and fear, like Rivera predicted. Neither will
ever be trusted again. He climbs into his car, drives off.
32 INT. DINER - HARLEM - DAY 32

Tango and his bodyguard come in and approach Frank's table

where he reads the morning paper as he eats breakfast.

TANGO
Didn't you see the jar, Frank?
I think you walked right past it.

Frank ignores him, forks at his eggs, eats. Tango sits.

TANGO
The money jar. On the corner. What I
got to do, put a sign on it?

Frank indicates that he would answer if his mouth wasn't

full. He swallows finally, but then only reaches for his
coffee cup to take a sip, further irritating Tango.
(CONT)

16.

32 CONTINUED:
32

TANGO
Bumpy don't own 116th Street no more,
Frank. Bumpy don't own no real estate in
Harlem no more. I'm the landlord now and
the lease is twenty-percent.
 Frank dabs at his mouth with a napkin and gives Tango a look
that says that won't be happening.

TANGO
Then don't sell dope, Frank. Get a
fuckin job. You need a job? You can be
my driver, drive me around, open my door,
yes, sir, no sir, where to, sir, right
away, Massa Johnson, sir.

Right now Tango is dead. No doubt about it. On the

surface, though, Frank remains cool.

FRANK
Twenty percent?

TANGO
Of every dollar. Every VIG, every
truckload, every girl, every ounce. In
the jar.

FRANK
Twenty percent's my profit. If I'm
giving it to you then what am I doing?
Twenty percent puts me, and everyone you
know, out of business, which puts you out
of business.
(reaches for his breakfast
check)
There are ways to make money
legitimately, and then there's this way.
Not even Bumpy took twenty percent.

TANGO
Bumpy's fuckin dead.

Frank regards Tango a moment, gets up, takes out his money
clip, covers the check on the table with a five, peels off a
$1 bill from the clip, tosses it down in front of Tango.

FRANK
There. That's twenty-percent.

As he turns and leaves, Tango watches after him ...

17.

33 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT 33

Stitched-up, black and blue hands dump a can of soup in a

pot, put it on the stove.
34 INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - INTERCUT 34

A pencil clutched by long fingers scribbles figures. But

no matter how many times Frank does the arithmetic, there's
not much left, he calculates, after he pays the Italian
suppliers and, if he were to, Tango.

35 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CONTINUED 35

Richie has moved to a small desk cluttered with law

textbooks. He cracks one open to study for the New Jersey
Bar exam as he eats the soup out of the pot he heated it in.
Above him on the wall is a framed photograph of Joe Louis
standing over a sprawled-on-the-mat Billy Conn.

36 EXT. CONEY ISLAND - BEACH - DAY - INTERCUT 36

A bleak day. Seagulls fighting over scraps on the sand as

others hover overhead, flapping and cawing. Alone near the
water, Frank tosses a stick for the German shepherd he
inherited.

37 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - INTERCUT 37

Richie opens a small wooden box in his bleak apartment,

revealing an ounce of marijuana, rolling papers and clips.
As he rolls a joint -

BUMPY V/O
A leader is like a shepherd -

38 EXT. CONEY ISLAND - BEACH - DAY - CONTINUED 38

The sounds of the gulls and surf and roller coaster begin to
fade as Frank throws the stick again.

BUMPY V/O
Sends the fast nimble sheep out front,
and the others follow as the shepherd
walks quietly behind -

The dog retrieves the stick, but this time - somehow - it's
to Bumpy's hand he returns it. Frank listens attentively.

BUMPY
He's got the stick - the cane - and
he'll use if he has to.
(MORE)
(CONT)

18.

38 CONTINUED: 38
BUMPY (CONT'D)
But most of the time he doesn't have to.
 He moves the whole herd - quietly.

Bumpy smiles and tosses the stick.

39 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - INTERCUT 39

The smoke from the joint rises to the ceiling as Richie

studies.

40 EXT. CONEY ISLAND - BEACH - DAY - CONTINUED 40

The dog trots back to Bumpy and Frank with the stick.

41 EXT. BOARDWALK - CONEY ISLAND - LATER 41

Hot dog stand. Bumpy hands a hot dog to Frank, holds out
another to the shepherd. To camera:

BUMPY
What right do they have cutting out the
suppliers, the middlemen, buying direct,
putting Americans out of work ... This
is the way it is now, Frank.

Frank nods. The vender hands him a napkin. The shepherd

is still with him, but Bumpy is gone, and the gulls and the
people on the roller coaster squeal as Frank comes out of
his meditative trance with an idea.

42 CLOSE-UP: (DOCTOR'S OFFICE) 42

A needle pierces the crook of Frank's arm. Slight grimace.

A cotton ball is pushed onto the puncture. Malaria shot.
43 CLOSE-UP: (PHOTOGRAPHY SHOP) 43

A strobe lights up Frank's face: a passport photo.

44 CLOSE-UP: (POST OFFICE) 44

The photo and a duplicate are stapled to a passport

application.

45 INT. CHEMICAL BANK - SAFETY-DEPOSIT ROOM - DAY 45

Keys turn the locks of a safety-deposit box. The lid lifts

revealing decks of cash. Frank takes it all out, slips one
slender packet into Bumpy's banker's jacket pocket.

FRANK
Get yourself a new suit.

19
.
46 INT. CHEMICAL BANK - VICE PRESIDENT'S OFFICE - DAY
46

Under portraits of bank Vice Presidents before him, the man

types out a Chemical Bank check for Frank for $400,000.

47 - 48 OMIT 47 - 48 OMIT

49 EXT. PARK - NEWARK - DAY - SAME TIME

49

The sound of the plane growls and fades overhead as Richie's

ex-wife keeps an eye on their son playing on a grassy area.

RICHIE
I'm sorry.

LAURIE
I don't know, Richie.

RICHIE
It couldn't be avoided. Next weekend
I'll be able to take him.

She regards him with a weary look, but he's looking over at
one of the other - better-looking - moms in the park.

LAURIE
I'm moving.

He looks back, not sure he heard right.

RICHIE
What? Where?

LAURIE
To the St. Regis, what do you care.
(pause)
My sister's.

RICHIE
Your sister's. In Vegas?

He glances away to a sound: shattering glass. Some teen-

agers breaking bottles on the ground.

RICHIE
You can't move to Vegas. Not with
Michael anyway.

LAURIE
What am I supposed to do with him? Leave
him with you? There's a picture.
 (C
ONT)

2
0.

49 CONTINUED:
49

RICHIE
(to the vandals)
Hey, you want to shut up over there?

The teenagers ignore him. He tries to ignore them, but it's

hard with the constant noise.

RICHIE
No court will allow it for one thing.
I won't allow it.

LAURIE
You?

RICHIE
When am I supposed to see my son?

LAURIE
Last weekend!

Their son glances over at them. Richie looks over at the

teenagers again breaking bottles, then back to Laurie.

RICHIE
Laurie, you can't raise a kid in Las
Vegas.

LAURIE
Oh, like this is a good environment.
Around your friends. There are less
creeps in Vegas.

RICHIE
What's he going to grow up to be in a
mobbed up place like that? What are you
thinking?

LAURIE
I'm thinking - Richie - of him!

RICHIE
Goddamn it -

The noise of the glass is driving him crazy. He strides

over to the teenagers, who look at him like, What are you
 gonna do, old man, it's four against one.

RICHIE
I told you nice to shut the fuck up.
Now I'm gonna kill you.

He pulls out his gun and aims it at one of them, then the
others. All instinctively try to cover their heads.
(
CONT)

2
1.

49 CONTINUED:
49

RICHIE
Pick up the fuckin glass!

As they dive to their knees to do what they're told, Laurie

walks away with her son, who looks back over his shoulder at
his father with his gun out.

50 EXT. BANGKOK - NIGHT

50

Frank sits in the back of a motor samlor. Bicycles dart

around it like flies.

51 - 52 OMIT 51 - 52
OMIT

53 INT. SOUL BROTHERS BAR - NIGHT

53

The clientele is almost exclusively black servicemen on R&R

and Asian women. A trio of ex-GI's plays authentic Southern
blues on a small stage. Ham hocks and collard greens come
out of the kitchen. Smoke chokes the place.

Frank, one of the few men not in uniform, and not drunk or
stoned, sits alone at a table with a Coca-Cola and surveys
the activity: Dope being rolled. Dope being smoked. Dope
being shot. GI's and prostitutes climbing a staircase.

His eyes follow an Army Master Sergeant, moving among the

tables as if checking on the GI's well being. But at some,
his hand takes money, leaves in its place packets of powder.

The Sergeant feels eyes on him and glances up, catching

Frank watching him from across the room. He squints through
the smoke at the figure at the table in the shadows, and, in
a kind of shock, more to himself -
NATE
 Frank - ?

Frank half-lifts his glass to wave, and Nate beams.

54 INT. SOUL BROTHERS BAR - NIGHT

54

Frank has guests at his table now: his cousin Nate the
Sergeant, and two young Asian wise guys. They talk about
him in Thai (subtitled):

THAI
He say how much he wants?

NATE
He said "a lot." What that means, I
don't know. Four or five keys?

(
CONT)

22.

54 CONTINUED: 54

The Thais regard Frank a moment, size him up.

THAI
He's your cousin.

NATE
My cousin-in-law. My ex-wife's cousin.

THAI
Ask him how much he wants.

NATE
How much you gonna want, Frank?

FRANK
A hundred kilos.

Nate blinks like there's something in his eye ...

55 EXT. BANGKOK - STREET VENDER - DAY 55

Steam and neon. Frank and Nate at a crowded stand.

NATE
No one I know can get that much. It'd
have to be pieced together from several
suppliers and none of it's gonna be 100-
percent pure.

FRANK
 That's not what I want.

NATE
I know that. But that means dealing
with the Chiu-Chou syndicates in Cholon
or Saigon - if they'll deal with you -

FRANK
No, even then it's too late. It's been
chopped. I want to get it where they get
it. From the source.

Nate stares at him ... then laughs. Frank doesn't.

NATE
You're gonna go get it.

FRANK
Why not.

NATE
You're gonna go into the fuckin jungle -

(CON
T)

23
.

55 CONTINUED:
55

FRANK
I've lived in jungles all my (life) -

NATE
No. This is the jungle. Tigers.
Vietcong. The fuckin snakes alone will
kill you.

AA56 INT. NEW JERSEY BOARD OF BAR EXAMINERS - DAY

AA56

A room of student-type desks and no character. Richie,

and fifty others, have been here for hours taking the exam
less than half of them will pass.

A56 EXT. JUNGLE - DAY

A56

A motley bunch of Thai thugs and black American soldiers

with automatic weapons ride mules through the dense jungle
with Nate and Frank, who - armed with a pistol, a rifle and
ammo bandolier like Pancho Villa - is enjoying himself.
From his POV, the jungle canopy suddenly opens up on a poppy
 field the size of Manhattan. Frank stares down at it.

B56 EXT. JUNGLE RISE / OPIUM FARM - DAY

B56

On the ground now with their small private army, Nate speaks
with one of the Thais, then translates for Frank.

NATE
He says this whole area's controlled
by the Kuomintang - Chiang Kai-Shek's
defeated army.

Some of whom they can see down below on the opium farm -
Chinese soldiers with outdated weapons. Frank tips his head
to Nate at some other figures below -

FRANK
They ain't Chinese.

A handful of better-armed American sentries at the perimeter

of the farm. CIA. Frank, Nate and the others hang back as
one of the Thais steps ahead to speak to the guerillas.

C56 EXT. OPIUM FARM - LATER

C56

The processing center for the entire region. The Thai

translator is with Frank to negotiate with a vanquished
Chinese general. Other Americans and Thais guard them
while the Chinese with their CIA advisors guard them.

24.

D56 INT. BAMBOO DWELLING - LATER - DAY D56

The Chinese general examines Frank's papers - passport,

visa, bank receipts - and lots of cash - then studies Frank.

GENERAL
How would you get it into the States?

FRANK
What do you care?

GENERAL
Who do you work for in there?

FRANK
What do you care?

GENERAL
 Who are you really?

FRANK
It says right there. Frank Lucas.

GENERAL
I mean, who you represent?

FRANK
Me.

The man doesn't believe it, but lets it go.

GENERAL
You think you're going to take a hundred
kilos of heroin into the US and you don't
work for anyone? Someone is going to
allow that?

Frank shrugs. The general regards one of his men. In

Chinese, subtitled:

GENERAL
I don't believe a word of this.

The general regards the cash and paperwork again for a

moment. And, to Frank:

GENERAL
After this first purchase, if you're not
killed by Marseilles importers - or their
people in the States - then what?

(CONT
)

25.

D56 CONTINUED: D56

FRANK
Then there'd be more. On a regular basis.
Though I'd rather not have to drag my ass
all the way up here every time.

The man regards Frank for a long moment. Glances back to

the cash and paperwork again. Finally -

GENERAL
Of course not.

E56 EXT. JUNGLE ARMY LZ - VIETNAM - DAY

E56
 Torrential monsoon rains. Dripping camouflage. Nate and
Frank climb down from the Huey. Frank no longer wears the
bandolier. Now a press card dangles from his neck.

F56 INT/EXT. TENT / JUNGLE ARMY LZ - LATER - DAY

F56

Stripes on the uniform of a black colonel with Nate under a

canopy. Outside, in the distance, in the rain, Frank hangs
out with some other black servicemen.

COLONEL
Where's it now?

NATE
Bangkok. I can bring it here or anywhere
in between.

COLONEL
A hundred kilos.
(Nate nods)
I never seen that much dope in one place.
NATE
It's bigger than an Amana refrigerator-
freezer.

G56 INT/EXT. JUNGLE ARMY LZ - LATER - DAY

G56

Nate and Frank watch the colonel emerge from the tent and
cross through the rain on duck-boards to another tent to
speak with a white officer, a 2-star general.

NATE
Fifty grand. In advance. That'll
cover them, the pilots and the guys on
the other end.

FRANK
Give them a hundred.

(CO
NT)

2
6.

G56 CONTINUED:
G56

NATE
Fifty, to cover them all.

FRANK
 A hundred. And it's all I got left. So
if that dope doesn't arrive, for whatever
reason -
(embraces Nate and whispers)
Cousin or no cousin - don't let me down.

He holds out a business envelope fat with money. Nate

hesitates, knowing Frank has just said he'll kill him if
things don't go right, then takes it.

NATE
I'll let you know when it's in the air.

56 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - NEWARK - DAWN

56

The nurse/paramedic who stitched up his hand is in Richie's

bed making so much noise he's worried someone will call the
cops. The phone rings. And won't stop. Neither will the
nurse as Richie answers it -

RIVERA V/O
Richie? Richie, I'm in trouble. This
fuckin guy "made" me - I don't know how
but he did. He went for his gun. I had
to do it, I swear to God. Now they're
going to kill me.

Richie can hear in Sander's voice how serious it is and

manages to disentangle himself from the woman.
RICHIE
Who.

RIVERA V/O
There's a hundred people out there heard
the shots. You gotta help me. You gotta
do something.

RICHIE
Is he dead?

RIVERA V/O
He's dead. I'm dead. They're gonna kill
me.

RICHIE
Where are you? Javy, where are you?

(
CONT)

27.

56 CONTINUED:
56
 RIVERA V/O
That's the problem.

A57 INT. RICHIE'S CAR - MOVING - EARLY MORNING

A57

Richie on his police radio, which cuts in and out -

DISPATCHER
There are no cars in that area,
Detective Roberts.

RICHIE
Bullshit. I got a man in trouble and I
need back-up.

DISPATCHER
I missed that - you're breaking up -

RICHIE
I said, put the fucking call out again -

DISPATCHER
I just did. No one responded. I'll try
again, but -

RICHIE
Fuck you, too.

He slams the mic down.

57 EXT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING

57

As Richie's car turns a corner, the Stephen Crane Projects -

the most foreboding place on earth - rises up: three dark
30-floor towers planted on war-torn grounds where a long-ago
torched and abandoned patrol car sits like a monument.

He parks and moves through an agitated all-black crowd, past

an ambulance outside one of the towers, through oppressive
heat. It's riot weather.

58 INT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING

58

Drugs on a coffee table. Body on the floor. Rivera,

despondent, on the couch. The male paramedics, scared.
Richie on the phone -

RICHIE
Sergeant, I'm not asking, I'm fuckin
telling you: Get some patrolmen over
here now.
 (CO
NT)

2
8.

58 CONTINUED:
58

Dial tone: the police sergeant has hung up on him.

Richie
throws the phone. The paramedics stare at him.

PARAMEDIC
You got no back-up? Why is that?

The only other person who would know the answer to that is
Rivera, who just shakes his head in despair.

RICHIE
Bandage his head.

PARAMEDIC
Detective ... he's dead.

RICHIE
I know he's fucking dead. Bandage his
head, clean him up, put him on a gurney
and prop it up so he's sitting. And open
his eyes.

59 EXT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING

59

Richie comes out ahead of the gurney, moving quickly like

it's a matter of life and death (which it is), motioning at
the crowd to allow a path to the ambulance.

RICHIE
Step back, injured man coming out. Let
them do their job and he'll be all right.
Ma'am. Excuse me. Step back. Sir.
Please.

The people step back when they see the victim on the gurney:
tubes in his nostrils, IV in his arm, eyes open. Before they
can look any closer, he's put in the ambulance. As it pulls
out, siren wailing, Richie leads Rivera safely away -

A60 EXT. ALLEY NEAR STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING

A60

They cross through an alley near the Projects and Rivera

 finally breathes a sigh of relief.

RIVERA
Thank you -

The words aren't out of his mouth before Richie shoves him
up against a car.

RICHIE
You robbed him, didn't you.

(
CONT)

2
9.

A60 CONTINUED:
A60

RIVERA
What? What are you talking about?

Richie rips Rivera's jacket pockets. Money spills out.

RICHIE
This. Where'd this come from?

RIVERA
What. That's my money. I've never
taken dirty money in my life.

RICHIE
You lying piece of shit -

RIVERA
Maybe the occasional gratuity. Like
anybody else. You're going to tell me
that's wrong?

RICHIE
Yeah.

RIVERA
No, it isn't. It's part of the salary
for getting shot at. For that, certain
courtesies are shown. In gratitude -

Richie, disgusted with him, lets go of him. Rivera is

embarrassed, almost crying, pleading -

RIVERA
A discount on a TV, a Doughboy in the
backyard, a new dress for your girlfriend
 maybe once a year. I'm talking about not
living in fucking poverty. You want to
call that wrong, call it wrong.

RICHIE
It's wrong.

RIVERA
Then goddamn it, pay me fifty grand a
year, you son of a bitch. Pay me what I
deserve for getting shot at. No? Fine.
Next time four guys come into your place
with sawed-off shotguns, you take care of
it.

RICHIE
You robbed him, and then you shot him,
and I helped you get out of there. How
many more you shot?
(
CONT)

3
0.

A60 CONTINUED:
A60

Rivera suddenly tries to get tough -

RIVERA
You know what, Richie? Fuck you, you
make that kind of accusation against your
own kind. And you know why.

He takes out his car keys, turns to leave. Comes past

Richie who grabs his arm and pushes the sleeve up exposing a
line of puncture scabs and scars.

RICHIE
You're a disgrace.

RIVERA
I'm a leper. Because I listened to you
and turned in a million fucking dollars.
You know who'll work with me after that?
Same as you. No one.

Richie squeezes Rivera's hand around the car key.

RICHIE
Don't look down there. Look here.
(at Richie's eyes)
You ever fuckin threaten me again, I'll
kill you.
 Richie squeezes Sander's hand so hard the car key cuts
through the skin, drawing blood.

60 - 69 OMIT 60 - 69
OMIT

70 EXT. ARMY BASE, NEW JERSEY - DUSK

70
Silence. Marshland. A beat-up Chevy parked alongside a
perimeter fence. Frank waits by the car as a military Jeep
with its lights out comes across a firing range. It slows,
stops. In it, the silhouettes of three servicemen, black,
armed with M-16's. Silence again, before:

ARMY CAPTAIN
Open the trunk.

Frank does it, then stands aside as the other servicemen

drag four large taped-up duffel bags from the Jeep to his
car, lift them into his trunk and slam it shut.

71 INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT - LATER - NIGHT

71

The duffel bags, still closed, on a table. Frank regards

them, nursing a drink, putting off the moment of discovery
that he has perhaps spent his life's savings on nothing.
(
CONT)

31.

71 CONTINUED:
71

The German shepherd watches as Frank removes the tape from

one of the bags. He pulls it open - has almost no reaction -
except to breathe again - then opens the next, and the next.

And we see: Several brick-like packages of No. 4 heroin

wrapped in paper marked with Chinese writing, stamped with
a label: two lions on their hind legs, paws on a globe,
and, in English: DOUBLE UOGLOBE BRAND 100%.

A72 INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT - LATER - DAWN

A72

The duffel bags are elsewhere. The only evidence of any

drugs is the small amount Frank has given a chemist - who
looks like a Harvard student - to test. It responds
instantly. The young man looks at Frank.

CHEMIST
Typically what I see is 25 to 45
 percent pure. I've never seen anything
like this. No alkaloids, no adulterants,
no dilutents. It's a hundred percent.
May I?

The chemist opens a leather travel syringe kit to shoot up,

but Frank gives him some to take home instead.

FRANK
Take it with you. I don't want to have
to call the coroner.

The chemist gathers his things to leave, offering a last

piece of advice -

CHEMIST
Store it in a cool, dark place.

72 EXT. GREENSBORO, NORTH CAROLINA - DUSK

72

A clapboard house set down on a piece of land that was

probably once worked by sharecroppers. An elderly woman
framed in a lit kitchen window, doing dishes.

Dark yew trees and scavenged, discarded cars and car parts
like patches of rusty snow. Crickets and bullfrogs. From a
mound of dirt, a young man hurls a baseball to another with
a catcher's mitt exactly sixty feet away. The kid's got a
major league arm.

Legend: Greensboro, North Carolina

A glow spills out from a detached shed where a short man in

his early 30's works on a stock car.

(CO
NT)

32
.

72 CONTINUED:
72

A greasy phone on the workbench rings and another

disreputable-looking man, thumbing through a magazine,
answers.

JIMMY
Yeah ... for you.

TEDDY
Who is it?

Jimmy doesn't know, sets it down. Teddy comes over wiping

 his hands on a rag, takes the phone.

TEDDY
Yeah.

FRANK V/O
Teddy.

TEDDY
Who's this?

FRANK V/O
Frank.

TEDDY
Frank who?

FRANK V/0
Frank your brother.

73 INT. COURTROOM - DAY

73

Divorced couples in custody battles wait with their

attorneys in a packed courthouse. An lawyer carrying papers
clipped with a $10 bill, comes past Richie, who's sitting
with his lawyer, a woman he's probably slept with.

SHEILA
I'm not talking about your proclivities,
Richie. Those I only know too well. I'm
talking about being a cop.

RICHIE
About taking money? I don't care about
money. I don't do that.

SHEILA
Because it'll come out. You're going to
have to sit down with shrinks and social
workers, her lawyers, the judge, lots of
questions.

(C
ONT)

33
.

73 CONTINUED:
73

RICHIE
What's going on there?
 The judge's assistant rearranging the pre-trial cases in
order of the amount of gratuity clipped to each - $5, $10,
$20 bills.

SHEILA
Scheduling.

RICHIE
No, the money.

SHEILA
Scheduling. What about your friends
from the neighborhood? You still hang
out with them?

RICHIE
I play softball on Sundays with some
guys.

SHEILA
Wise guys. That's going to look good.

RICHIE
I grew up with them, big deal.

SHEILA
What about Anthony Zaca?

RICHIE
What about him?
SHEILA
Richie, I'm just trying to understand
things your wife has said. If they're
not true, tell me.

RICHIE
Yeah, Tony's one of them.

SHEILA
Is he also your son's godfather?

Richie nods. Sheila glances over to where Richie's ex-wife

sits with her own lawyer across the room.

SHEILA
Do you really care about this? Or do
you just not want her to win - ever. How
often do you see your son as it is?

(C
ONT)

34
.
73 CONTINUED:
73

RICHIE
Not enough. But she wants to make it
never.

SHEILA
Yeah, all right. Give me a twenty.
(Richie doesn't reach for
his wallet)
Well, I'm not going to sit here all day.

She takes a twenty from her purse and carries it up to the

judge's assistant clipped to their paperwork.

BAILIFF
All rise -

74 EXT. HOUSE - TEANECK, NEW JERSEY - DAY

74

Frank and the dog in the back yard of a suburban house.

His neighbors - those he can see - are white. He hears a
sound - cars arriving - and crosses toward the house where
a sold "For Sale" sign leans against a half-built kennel.

Out front, a caravan of cars and pickup trucks - North

Carolina plates - loaded with boxes and suitcases - has just
arrived. Exhausted from the drive but excited to be here,
the travelers climb out: Frank's five brothers, their wives
and kids, and their mother.

Teddy thinks it's the right place. The others aren't as

sure. The house is too nice. There's a new Lincoln Towncar
parked outside the garage. They'll probably be shot for
trespassing.
The front door opens and Frank comes out, trailed by his
dog. He first gathers his mother in an embrace, then each
of his startled brothers.

75 INT. FRANK'S TEANECK HOUSE - LATER - DAY

75

The house is alive with the noise of family and scent of

home-cooked food as the extended Lucas clan - there's more
than twenty of them - sits around a big dining room table
passing the platters around. Frank, at the head of the
table, clearly loves having them all here.

TURNER
He got an arm on him. Major League arm,
ain't that right.

Everyone agrees as Turner's son - Frank's nephew - the 18-

 year-old boy seen pitching in the North Carolina back yard -
tries to shrug.
(C
ONT)

35
.

75 CONTINUED:
75

FRANK
You show me after supper.

TURNER
You can't catch him. He'll take your
head off. We're talking 95-mile-an-hour.
You know how fast that is? You see the
ball leave his hand, and that's the last
you see it before it knocks you down.

FRANK
(smiling; happy)
Is that right.

76 INT. FRANK'S TEANECK HOUSE - LATER - DAY

76

The wonderful noise continues downstairs as Frank leads his

mother on a tour of the upstairs. The place is a showroom
of traditional Americana.

FRANK
This is your room.

Mrs. Lucas is in awe of the splendor of the bedroom and its

furnishings. It's unlike anything she's used ever seen -
not Graceland exactly - but not far off. Her eyes settle on
an old vanity dotted with French perfume bottles.

MRS. LUCAS
How did you ...

FRANK
I had it made. From memory.
MRS. LUCAS
You were five when they took it away.
How could you remember it?

FRANK
I remember.

She's stunned. Touches the reproduction of the vanity her

son last saw more than thirty years ago.
 MRS. LUCAS
It's perfect.
(looks at the room)
It's all perfect.
(she looks at him)
I'm so proud of you.

36.

77 EXT. HUDSON RIVER - DAY 77

The Statue of Liberty against the New York skyline.

FRANK V/O
The man I worked for ran one of the
biggest companies in New York City for
almost fifty years.

78 EXT. HARLEM - DAY 78

As Frank leads his brothers down the sidewalk, the Towncar

that was parked at the Teaneck house, driven by Frank's body-
guard, Doc, follows alongside at the same pace they walk.

FRANK
I was with him every day for fifteen of
them, looking after him, taking care of
things, protecting him, learning from
him.

The brothers can't help but notice the storekeepers who wave
to Frank, the women who smile, the men who step out of his
path like there's a red carpet under his polished shoes.

FRANK
Bumpy was rich, but never white man rich.
Why? Because he didn't own the company.
He thought he did. He didn't. He only
managed it. Someone else owned it. So
they owned him.

79 INT/EXT. REDTOP'S APARTMENT BUILDING - HARLEM - DAY 79

Frank leads his brothers up the stairs and down the hall.

FRANK
Nobody owns me. Because I own my
company.

INTERCUT: Feminine hands stamp small packets of blue

cellophane with the words `Blue Magic' -

FRANK
 And my company sells a product that's
better than the competition's at a price
that's lower.

Frank stops outside an apartment door.

TEDDY
What are we selling, Frank?

(CONT)

37.

79 CONTINUED:
79

Frank pushes the door open, revealing -

80 INT. REDTOP'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS - DAY

80

Five naked women at work tables, their faces veiled by

surgical masks, cutting heroin with lactose and quinine in a
precise mixture of controlled purity. The Lucas brothers
stare as the supervisor of the activity - clothed, with red
hair - comes over.

REDTOP
Hi, Frank.

FRANK
Honey, these are my brothers.

81 EXT. HARLEM - LATER - DAY

81

Tango strolls down the street like he's the Godfather of

Harlem, girl on his arm, bodyguard at his side.

82 INT. DINER - SAME TIME

82

As his brothers eat lunch, Frank - who can see Tango outside
- uncaps a glass sugar container.

FRANK
What matters in business is honesty,
integrity, hard work, loyalty, and never
forgetting where you came from.

For reasons his brothers can't imagine, Frank empties all

sugar from the container onto his plate.
FRANK
You are what you are and that's one of
two things. You're nothing ... or you're
 something. Understand what I'm saying?

The brothers nod tentatively, stare at the now-empty glass

container. Frank wipes his mouth with a napkin, gets up.

FRANK
I'll be right back.

83 EXT/INT. DINER - MOMENTS LATER

83

He comes out of the diner, crosses the street toward Tango,

who's buying fruit. Greets him cheerfully -

FRANK
Hey, Tango, what's up. I was just
thinking about you.
(MORE)
(CO
NT)

38.

83 CONTINUED: 83
FRANK (CONT'D)
I was looking at the jar and you know
what? I didn't see nothing in it.

TANGO
The fuck you want, Frank -

Before the last word is out of Tango's mouth, Frank's got a

gun pressed against his forehead. Silence. Everyone backs
away - the bodyguard, too. Tango's girl pulls her arm from
his and takes off. Eventually -

TANGO
What're you going to do, boy? Shoot me
in broad daylight? In front of everyone?

It's as if life on the street has stopped. No one moves;

everyone is looking at Frank; maybe that's what he wants.
As Tango laughs at the thought -

FRANK
Yeah, that's right.

Frank pulls the trigger and the big man falls back like
someone hit with a board. Frank stands over him and empties
the gun in his chest, the shots echoing down the street.

Then it's quiet again. Everyone's still looking him, but

Frank doesn't run. Instead, he calmly reaches into Tango's
suit pocket, takes out a money clip thick with cash, drops
it in the "jar" and sets it next to the body.
 FRANK
For the cops. Should be enough.

Frank returns to the diner and sits back down, ignoring the
astonished stares from his brothers and everyone else in the
place. Tries to remember where he was in his lecture as he
tucks the napkin back in his shirt collar.

FRANK
That basically's the whole picture right
there.

84 INT. MORGUE - NIGHT 84

A cadaver drawer slides open revealing - not Tango - but

Rivera, staring up lifeless, his arms, stomach, legs and
toes dotted with the scabs of a longtime addict.

DETECTIVE
Did you know his girlfriend? Good-
looking girl. One of his informants.

(CON
T)

39.

84 CONTINUED: 84

RICHIE
Beth.

The medical examiner slides open another cadaver drawer

containing her body. Richie stares at it.

DETECTIVE
Should've seen their place. Like animals
lived there.

RICHIE
I have seen it.

DETECTIVE
(to the examiner)
Chose a good night, huh? Grand Central
Station in here.

MEDICAL EXAMINER
It's been like this. I'm lucky I get
home before midnight; lots of careless-
ness.

Richie regards Rivera's personal effects resting on his

chest in a plastic bag: few bucks, the Corvette key, a half-
 empty packet of heroin in blue cellophane. Richie takes the
blue cellophane from the bag and, as the drawer closes
entombing Sanders, holds it in his hand ...

REPORTER V/O
Heroin addiction is no longer exclusive
to big city neighborhoods; it's epidemic -

85 TIME CUT. A TELEVISION: 85

The reports shows lawmakers on Capitol Hill juxtaposed
against images of inner-cities, junkies, homicide victims
and, perhaps most telling, white suburbia.

REPORTER ON TV
Since 1965, law enforcement has watched
its steady increase and with it a rise in
violent crime. Now unaccountably, it has
exploded, reaching into cities as a whole
- our suburbs and towns - our schools.

INT. POLICE GYM - DAY

The TV is in a small police gym where Richie lifts weights,

very much aware of his pariah status as out-of-shape cops
come in, only to leave again when they see him.

(CON
T)

40.

CONTINUED:

REPORTER ON TV
Someone is finally saying: enough.
Federal authorities have announced their
intention to establish special narcotics
bureaus in Washington, New York, Los
Angeles, Chicago, Boston, Newark and
other major cities -

Toback comes in, watches Richie, alone, working out.

RICHIE V/O
It's a dog and pony show.

TOBACK V/O
It's not being advertised as one.

86 INT. POLICE GYM - LATER - DAY 86

Richie's changing into his street clothes.

RICHIE
 But it's federal. I'd have to answer
to who? FBI?

TOBACK
Me and the U.S. Attorney. No one else.
No FBI. Hoover knows better than to mix
his men with dope. Too much temptation
for the feeble-minded.

Though he's not in much of a position to refuse the

assignment, Richie still isn't convinced it's a good idea.
Toback levels with him -
TOBACK
Richie, a detective who doesn't have
the cooperation of his fellow detectives
can't be effective.

RICHIE
You know why I don't have it.

TOBACK
Doesn't matter.

RICHIE
No, they're all on the take and I'm not
and it doesn't matter to anyone. Instead
of giving you a medal for turning in
money, they bury you.

(CON
T)

41.

86 CONTINUED: 86

TOBACK
It's fucked up. You're right. Maybe
this's an opportunity away from all that.

They regard each other. Eventually -

RICHIE
I'll do it, but only like this: I
don't set foot in a police station again.
I work out of a place of my own. And I
pick my own guys. Guys I know wouldn't
take a nickel off the sidewalk.

TOBACK
Done.

87 EXT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY 87

 An old building that was once an Episcopal church.

88 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY 88

The place has been long abandoned. The city maintenance

worker who let Richie in watches him move through the debris-
strewn church.

89 INT. PENTHOUSE - NEW YORK - DAY 89

A real estate broker watches Frank consider the high-

ceilinged spaciousness of a grand, unfurnished 50's modern
Upper East Side penthouse -

90 INT. BASEMENT - NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - DAY 90

Richie regards the colored light thrown down by the stained
glass windows -

91 INT. PENTHOUSE - NEW YORK - DAY 91

Frank regards light streaming in from the garden terrace -

92 INT. MAIN FLOOR - NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - DAY 92

Richie picks up a faded photograph of a priest in a broken

frame. To the maintenance man:

RICHIE
This is the only floor we'll be using.

93 INT. PENTHOUSE - NEW YORK - DAY 93

Frank distractedly opens and closes a 12' high curtain in

one of the rooms -
(CON
T)

42.

93 CONTINUED: 93

FRANK
No loan, no contingencies. Cash sale.

94 EXT. SMALL'S PARADISE - NIGHT 94

Wet streets and neon. Well-dressed crowd behind a velvet

rope outside the club. The Apollo in the background: James
Brown on the marquee.

95 INT. SMALL'S PARADISE - NIGHT 95

A still-powerful older man in a nice suit rises from his

chair to wild applause. From the stage -
 SINGER
Mr. Joe Louis, ladies and gentlemen.

Joe bows graciously, gives a little wave to the crowd, and

sits back down as the band starts up again.

At another table, Frank sits with Charlie Williams and

Rossi, slightly older dope men. Like Frank, they favor
expensive tailored suits. Their dates, too, are nicely
dressed - not too much make-up or jewelry. Frank's glance
moves from Joe Louis and his wife to a beautiful young woman
at the table.

FRANK
Who's the beauty queen?

CHARLIE
She is a beauty queen. No kidding.
Miss Puerto Rico.
Her glance crosses Frank's briefly but is yanked to the
entrance of the club when Frank's brothers come in with
their wives and girlfriends. Teddy's in a parrot green
suit, gold chains, hat, acting like he owns the place.

96 INT. BACK ROOM - SMALL'S PARADISE - LATER 96

Frank hustles Teddy into an empty back room.

FRANK
What is this?

He turns Teddy so he's facing a mirror.

TEDDY
What. These are clothes. This is a very
nice (suit) -

(CON
T)

43.

96 CONTINUED: 96

FRANK
I'm wearing clothes. These are clothes.
Those -
(Teddy's in the mirror)
- are a costume. With a sign on it that
says Arrest me. You look like fuckin
Jackie Fox.

TEDDY
 What's wrong with Jackie. I like Jackie.

FRANK
You like Jackie? You want to be
Superfly? Go work for him, end up in a
cell with him.

Teddy pulls himself from Frank's grasp. Smooths his shirt,

adjusts his hat. Frank tries to explain to him:

FRANK
The guy making all the noise in the room
is the weak one. That's not who you want
to be.

TEDDY
He wants to talk to you by the way. I
told him I'd tell you.

Frank stares at his brother's reflection in the mirror.

FRANK
You and Jackie were talking about me?

TEDDY
Not about you. We were talking. He said
he wanted to talk to you about something.

Frank clearly wants nothing to do with Jackie Fox.

FRANK
I'm taking you shopping tomorrow.

TEDDY
I went shopping today.

FRANK
You go shopping every day. Like a girl.

97 EXT. SMALL'S PARADISE - LATER - NIGHT 97

A creme Bentley pulls up and out pour Jackie Fox and his
entourage.

(CON
T)

44.

97 CONTINUED:
97

He's got an armful of New York Times Magazines -with him on

the cover, flaunting Gangster Chic. He starts handing them
out to the crowd on his way into the club.
98 INT. SMALL'S PARADISE - CONTINUOUS - NIGHT
98

Joe Louis has come over to speak to Frank at his table.

JOE LOUIS
It's a tax thing. It's a mistake my
lawyers will straighten out, but for the
time being it's a headache -

FRANK
How much you owe?

JOE LOUIS
It's nothing, like - fifty grand.

Frank isn't sure if it's an honor or a curse to have a

celebrity like Joe Louis asking to borrow money, but nods.

FRANK
Sure. Don't worry about it.

JOE LOUIS
Thank you. I'll pay you back soon as -

FRANK
Joe. It's a gift. Not a loan. You
don't owe me nothing.

Jackie glides into the club with his magazines and

entourage. Frank watches him make the rounds, lingering at
Miss Puerto Rico's table and holding her hand longer than he
should with his girlfriend on his arm. Frank glances to
Teddy wearily, then to Doc, alone at the next table like a
sentry. Frank doesn't have to say he's ready to leave. Doc
knows the look. Gets up.

99 INT. SMALL'S PARADISE - LATER - NIGHT

99

Frank comes into the coat check area where Doc waits with
his overcoat. As Frank slips into it, Miss Puerto Rico -
returning from the ladies room - comes through.

ANA
Hi. I'm Ana.

FRANK
I'm Frank.

(CO
NT)

45.
99 CONTINUED:
99

ANA
You're Frank and this is your place.
(he doesn't say whether
it is or not)
Why's it called Small's? Why don't you
call it Frank's?

FRANK
Because I don't have to.

He smiles, and it's hard to tell which is more enchanted

with the other.

100 INT. NIGHTCLUB - NEWARK - SAME TIME - NIGHT

100

A club across the river. Not nearly as nice as Small's -

much louder - but like Small's, almost all black. Richie
shares a booth with a black undercover detective.

RICHIE
I'm reluctant to bring anyone in I
don't personally know.

SPEARMAN
You know me, and I vouch for them.

Richie nods, Yeah, he knows that, but remains unconvinced.

SPEARMAN
Richie, we work together. You want me,
you got to take them, too.

RICHIE
Where are they?
Spearman looks out across the crowded dance floor.

SPEARMAN
That's Jones. With the skinny white
woman.

Richie's glance finds a young black man dancing wildly with

his skinny white date.

SPEARMAN
That's Abruzzo, with the fat black one.

Richie sees a young Italian with tatoos - the only other

white man in the place - dancing with a heavy black woman.
Both Jones and Abruzzo look more like criminals than cops.
 (CO
NT)

46
.

100 CONTINUED:
100

SPEARMAN
Both are good with wires. Have good
informants. They're honest. And they're
fearless. They'll do anything. They're
insane, Richie, like you.

101 INT. FRANK'S CAR - MOVING - NEW YORK - DAY

101

Frank sits in back alone. Peers ahead through the

windshield. His face relaxes as he sees -

102 EXT. RIVERSIDE - DAY

102

Ana waiting on a corner, dressed nice, handbag. The

Towncar
pulls to the curb.

FRANK
I got it.

Frank gets out before Doc can, and escorts Ana to the car.

FRANK
I hope you weren't waiting long. A
woman as beautiful as you shouldn't have
to wait for anything.

He opens the door for her like a perfect gentleman, slides

in after her.

103 EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY

103

Outside the house, Doc sits in the car reading a newspaper.

104 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY

104
Ana considers some family photographs on a mantle.

ANA
This is your father?
 Frank shakes his head no. It's a picture of Bumpy.

FRANK
You really don't know who that is?
(she doesn't)
It's Martin Luther King.

ANA
It is not.

FRANK
You're right. He was as important as Dr.
King, though.
(C
ONT)

47.

104 CONTINUED: 104

ANA
What'd he do?

FRANK
A lot of things. He had a lot of
friends. He served New York and it
served him.

ANA
What was he to you?

Frank has to think. Bumpy was more than his employer.

FRANK
Teacher.

ANA
What'd he teach you?

FRANK
How to take my time ... how if you're
going to do something, do it with care
... do it with love.

And it's working here. It's seductive.

ANA
Anything else?

FLASHCUTS -

Sudden bursts of violence - guys beat up - others shot - one

being poured with gasoline as Bumpy looks on calmly -
BACK TO FRANK'S LIVING ROOM
 The same calm, benign face in the photograph. Frank nods.

FRANK
How be a gentleman.

ANA
That's what you are?

Ana smiles like she knows better. Any second now, like
every other guy she's ever met, she's sure he'll try to take
her upstairs.

FRANK
I got five different apartments in the
city I could've taken you to. I brought
you here instead -

(CO
NT)

48.

CONTINUED:

Ana glances to the stairs which Frank's mother is coming

down.

FRANK
To meet my mother.

MRS. LUCAS
Is this her? Oh, she's beautiful,
Frank. Look at her. She's an angel
come down from heaven.

Mrs. Lucas embraces Ana like family.

105 OMIT 105

OMIT

106 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY

106

A single, half-empty packet of heroin, the same one from the

morgue, in distinctive blue cellophane, tacked to a bulletin
board. Richie, perched on a desk in front of it.

RICHIE
Our mandate is to make major arrests.
No street guys - we want the suppliers -
the distributors.

Spearman, Jones and Abruzzo sit in the back, looking like

delinquent students. Of everyone in the open ground-floor
 that's been only slightly renovated - and there are about
fifteen of them - they're the most disreputable-looking.

RICHIE
Heroin, cocaine, amphetamines. No
grass under a thousand pounds. Less than
that, someone else can waste their time.

Jones nudges Abruzzo to pay attention. Abruzzo elbows him

back. Richie just waits like a teacher for their attention.

RICHIE
We'll be handling big shipments, big
money, big temptation.
(Jones raises his hand)
Yeah.

JONES
There's a story about you. About
turning in some money. A lot of money.
Is it true?

Jones isn't the only one here curious to know. Simply:

(CONT)

49.

106 CONTINUED: 106

RICHIE
It's not true.

107 INT/EXT. CAR / STREET - NEWARK - DAY

107

Abruzzo, looking like a junkie, dirty jeans, wool cap,

approaches a dealer on the corner. The perspective shifts
to Richie, Spearman and Jones in a car, watching as Abruzzo
chats briefly with the dealer before the exchange takes
place: $10 for a blue-cellophane packet.

108 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - LATER - DAY

108

Richie and the others watch Jones tests the heroin.

JONES
Stuff's ten percent pure. Strong
enough to smoke for all those suburban
white kids afraid of needles.

The other detectives are exchange a glance. None has ever

 heard of anything on the street that pure.

RICHIE
You paid ten bucks for it?

JONES
And it's all that's out there.

RICHIE
Now, how is that possible? Who can
afford to sell shit twice as good for
half as much?
Richie glances to a Table of Organization: Surveillance
photos haphazardly thumb-tacked to a bulletin board - known
dope men in the hierarchies of their individual crime
families - almost all of them Italian.

WOMB TO TOMB SEQUENCE:

An R & B song begins and continues over -

109 CLOSE-UPS:
109

A poppy bulb being pierced, the white liquid oozing,

changing into filthy liquids in wooden bowls, and finally
a gray paste ...

110 INT. BANK VICE PRESIDENT'S OFFICE - CHEMICAL BANK - DAY 110

Frank sits with the bank Vice President who wires a transfer
to:

50.

111 INT. BANGKOK BANK - DAY 111

Where Nate sits with the same Thai bank president as before
who converts the transfer to cash.

112 INT. SOUL BROTHERS BAR - BANGKOK - DAY 112

Nate slides cash across a table to a couple of Chinese

gangsters.

113 EXT. JUNGLE ARMY BASE - VIETNAM - DAY 113

A tent: Nate hands more cash - the military brass's cut -

to the 2-star general from before.

An airstrip: Slicing propellers. Wounded soldiers on

stretchers, helped onto a transport plane. Nearby, four
 large crates - Japanese TVs - under cargo netting. The
pilot stuffs more cash in a pouch and salutes Nate.

114 TV IMAGE: 114

General Westmoreland returns a salute (archive).

115 EXT. ARMY BASE - NORTH CAROLINA - DUSK 115

The same plane on the tarmac here, taxiing. A pile of

discarded TV boxes outside a supply warehouse.

At the perimeter of the base, black servicemen transfer

heavy taped-up duffel bags from an Army Jeep to a station
wagon, hoisting those that won't fit inside onto a roof
rack. Two Lucas brothers tie them down with twine.
116 INT/EXT. CAR / HIGHWAY - NEAR WASHINGTON DC - DUSK 116

The station wagon heading north on a rain-slicked highway,

the canvas tarpaulin on top flapping. In the distance, the
spire of the Washington monument glows.

117 EXT. DISCOUNT DRUGSTORE - HARLEM - DAY 117

A black woman pushes a shopping cart containing a baby,

Pampers, and cases of milk sugar across a parking lot.

118 INT. RED TOP'S APARTMENT - HARLEM - DAY 118

Empty milk sugar boxes. Redtop and her five table workers
- clothed now, the surgical masks dangling from their necks -
wiping down table surfaces, scales and apparatus. Tens of
thousands of blue-cellophane packets of heroin neatly cover
two of the folding tables.

51.

119 EXT. HARLEM STREET - DAY 119

August. Hot. Kids wrench open a fire hydrant and with an

empty soda can direct the water into a fountain. The water
sprays down onto the windshield of a beat-up Chevy coming
slowly through, revealing when it clears, Frank behind the
wheel. He parks. Glances at his watch.

120 INT. NYPD 23RD PRECINCT - LOCKER ROOM - DAY 120

Clock on the wall of a locker area: 3:58. Shift change.

Cops in t-shirts. Fans blowing the humid air around.

121 INT/EXT. NYPD 23RD PRECINCT GARAGE - DAY 121

 Blue and whites arriving and leaving, shirts coming off as
the cops alight.

122 INT. BUS - MOVING ON 116TH STREET - DAY 122

The driver checks his watch: 3:59. Turns his almost-empty

bus up 8th Avenue.

123 INT/EXT. FRANK'S PARKED CHEVY - HARLEM - DAY 123

Air conditioner full blast. Radio announcing the time: 4

o'clock. Frank glances out the wet windshield of the Chevy
and watches 116th Street transform:

It's as if an outdoor market has just opened its stalls.

Junkies and dealers emerging from the alleys, storefronts,
tenements and side streets - from the street itself it seems
- snarling the cars and delivery trucks caught unaware.
Small blue cellophane packets - and only blue - are pulled
from pockets and change hands. In alleyways it's cooked up
and sucked into syringes, and in dank, grim, indescribably
filthy rooms, plunged into veins -

124 AND THE REVERSE: 124

10 and 20 dollar bills changing hands - decks of cash

rubber-banded together - put into envelopes and delivered
to the Lucas brothers, to:

125 LESTER at his metal door shop. 125

126 EUGENE at his dry cleaners. 126

127 TURNER at his tire service shop. 127

128 EARL at his electrical shop. 128

(CONT)

52
.

123 CONTINUED:
123

129 TEDDY at his body shop.

129

130 INT. REDTOP'S APARTMENT - DAY

130

Piles of cash. The brothers try counting it all, but it's

just too much. It's actually tiring.

TEDDY
 We're going to be here all night if we
count every bill.

TIME CUT: A money-counting machine flips through the

bills, its counter flying. The brothers rubberband it all
in $100,000 decks. Jot down the numbers. Put the money
in newly-assembled file boxes. Tape them shut.

131 INT. CHEMICAL BANK - SAFETY-DEPOSIT ROOM - DAY

131

Alone in the room, Frank transfers stacks of $100's from the

file boxes into several open safety-deposit boxes.

132 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE APARTMENT - NIGHT

132

The penthouse is now richly decorated. The R & B music

playing through a state-of-the-art stereo system. It's a
kind of office party for Frank's brothers, cousins, wives
and girlfriends, distributors like Rossi and other East
Harlem guys, Charlie Williams, couple of cops on Frank's
payroll, and the Chemical Bank Vice President.

BANKER
You got a stockbroker, Frank?

FRANK
I deal with enough crooks as it is.

The banker jots down a name and phone number on the back of
one of his business cards.

BANKER
This one couldn't be more honest. Ask
around. He's got a lot of clients in the
business. You can't leave all your money
in safety deposit boxes; give him a call.

The banker hands him the card and moves on. Frank's trying
to have a good time, but the level of noise and revelry is
beginning to make him uncomfortable.

CHARLIE
Frank. This is Mike Sibota.

Sibota tries not to look as nervous as he feels.

(C
ONT)

5
3.

132 CONTINUED:
132
 FRANK
Mr. Sibota. What can I get you?

SIBOTA
A left-hander from what Charlie tells me.
Your nephew?

Frank points to his nephew, Stevie, across the room.

FRANK
It's been his dream all his life to play
for the Yankees - and he's good enough.

SIBOTA
So I hear. You have him come see me.
We'll give him a try-out.

As the scout hands his card to Frank, we whip over to where

Teddy, his driver Jimmy Racine and their girlfriends, coked
up, are laughing as a black cop, flashing his detective's
shield, pretends to frisk Jimmy.

DETECTIVE
What's this?
(taking a .45 from Jimmy's
pocket)
Oh, that's it, I'm taking you in.

JIMMY
(joking)
You can't take me in for that, I got a
license for that, motherfucker.

DETECTIVE
(gives the gun back)
This then -
(the pile of coke on the
coffee table)
But first -

The cop sucks up a line before pretending to cuff Jimmy.

DETECTIVE
All right, now I'm arresting you.

Everybody laughs. Teddy peels $100's from a money clip.

TEDDY
Let him go. This is for you.

DETECTIVE
What is that, a bribe? Oh, now you're
all under arrest.
(
CONT)
 54.

132 CONTINUED: 132

The cop pretends to arrest them all, but what he doesn't

pretend is the hand he puts on Jimmy's girlfriend's breast
as he frisks her.

JIMMY
What is that?

It was quick but Jimmy saw it, even though his girlfriend
didn't react. The cop, oblivious, is cuffing Teddy now.

DETECTIVE
I'm taking you all in.

JIMMY
I said, what the fuck was that?

DETECTIVE
What was what?

The room explodes with a boom and the detective crumples to

the floor, clutching at his leg, blood running through his
fingers onto the carpet. Frank stares.

JIMMY
Oh, he's all right. I just shot him in
the leg. You got a health plan, what are
you complaining about. He's fine. Here -
(peels off some money)
Five hundred all right? Six? Look, he's
feeling better all the time.

Suddenly, Frank grabs Jimmy and throws him against the wall.

133 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE APARTMENT - NIGHT

133
As Ana tries to clean the blood stain on the rug with salt
and soda water, Frank sits with his five brothers in the
debris-strewn aftermath of the party. Silence before:

FRANK
I can't have this kind of stupidity.

TEDDY
It was an accident. He feels terrible
about it.

FRANK
He doesn't feel shit, coked up all the
time. Get rid of him.
 (CO
NT)

55.

133 CONTINUED:
133

TEDDY
Frank. He's your cousin. What's he
gonna do? Go back home? I'll talk to
him. I'll straighten him out.

Frank looks at Teddy in his tinted Jackie Fox-like goggle

glasses - like he's going to straighten anybody out.

FRANK
Gimme those glasses.

TEDDY
What? Why?

Frank pulls them from Teddy's face and crushes them.

134 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY

134

Richie sifts through the morning mail at his desk. Stops

on an envelope from the New Jersey Bar Association. As he
works up the nerve to open it, Spearman, Jones and Abruzzo
organize the Italian wise guys' photos on the T.O.

JONES
Ice Pick Paul goes here -

ABRUZZO
No, he's under Benny Two-Socks -

JONES
No, you're thinking of Benny the Bishop.
Benny Two-Socks is Tosca's deadbeat son-
in-law.
SPEARMAN
Jonesy's right.

Richie comes over, studies the Table of Organization a

moment, then begins untacking the photos from the top down -

JONES
What're you doing? We just -
 RICHIE
For a cop the uppermost thing is the
arrest. For a prosecutor, the arrest is
nothing without the evidence to convict.
We don't have any real evidence on anyone
on this board, so they're coming down.
We're starting over from the street.

(CONT)

56.

134 CONTINUED: 134

ABRUZZO
What are you, a prosecutor all of a
sudden?

Richie tacks his exam results onto the T.O. He passed.

135 EXT. STREET - NEWARK - DAY

135

Richie and the Amigos observe a buy from a parked car, the
blue cellophane changing hands. Ignoring the buyer as he
walks away, they keep watching the seller.

136 EXT. GAS STATION / CAR WASH - NEWARK - DAY

136

The seller is observed coming out of a mechanics garage.

Richie ignores him as he walks away, watching instead the
garage. Eventually, a mechanic wiping his hands on a rag
steps out, and Richie raises a camera. The image of the
mechanic - a supplier - freezes -

137 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY

137

A slightly-blurred photo of the mechanic goes up on a new,

almost bare Table of Organization.

138 EXT. GAS STATION / CAR WASH - NEWARK - DAY

138

Atop of a telephone pole, Abruzzo, dripping with lineman

equipment, works to attach a `slave' to the lines -

139 INT. STOREFRONT APARTMENT - DAY

139

Bare room. Richie, Jones and Spearman eating take-out food

 as tape recorder reels turn.
PHONE VOICE
Those snow tires you give me last time
come in yet? I'm going to want some more
of them, gimme one and a half more of
them.

The detectives laugh.

140 INT. PROSECUTOR'S OFFICE - DAY

140

Toback has Richie sign a voucher for $20,000 cash.

TOBACK
This is more than a year's salary,
Richie. If it disappears, I won't be
able to get it for you again.

(CO
NT)

57.

140 CONTINUED: 140

RICHIE
It'll never be out of my sight.

141 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY

141

Jones tapes a tape recorder the size of a pack of cigarettes

to Richie's bare chest.

142 INT. GAS STATION GARAGE - DAY

142

Undercover in a wise guy's cashmere sweater and slacks,

Richie watches the mechanic count the $10,000 he's given
him.

RICHIE
It's got to be `Blue Magic.'

MECHANIC
Yeah, yeah, it's `Blue.' You can pick
it up here tomorrow. Where's the rest of
the money?

RICHIE
That's half. I'll give you the other
half tomorrow when you give -
 MECHANIC
No, no, no, I don't do that. Go fuck
yourself.

Richie rather reluctantly hands over the rest of the 20K.

143 INT/EXT. SPEARMAN'S CAR - MOVING - NEAR GW BRIDGE - DAY 143

Spearman watches the pickup truck driven by the mechanic
change lanes up ahead - heading for the George Washington
Bridge - and glances over concerned to Richie, who is
changing the cashmere sweater for an old t-shirt.

SPEARMAN
He's going into New York. Are we?

RICHIE
What are they going to do, arrest us?

SPEARMAN
They could. New York cops. They can
do worse than that.

RICHIE
We're not losing that money. Go.

(CO
NT)

58.

143 CONTINUED: 143

As Spearman follows the truck, the George Washington Bridge,

linking Jersey to Manhattan, looms in the windshield ...

144 EXT. EAST HARLEM STREET - DAY

144

The pickup pulls to the curb outside a Pleasant Avenue

grocery store. As the guy enters the place, Spearman's car
stops long enough for Richie to climb out, and continues on.

Richie crosses the street, tries to see who the guy is

talking to inside, but he's just buying a cup of coffee to
go. Spearman's car turns the corner to circle around the
block. As soon as it's gone, the man emerges from the
restaurant with the coffee and walks straight at Richie who
has to double back quickly not to be seen

Richie sees a delivery truck double-parked, guys unloading

crates. Hears a horn and knows it's must be Spearman stuck
on the side street. The mechanic starts his truck.
Desperate not to lose him (and his money), Richie hurries
over to a taxi stopped at a light, flashes his badge.
 RICHIE
Get out.

TAXI DRIVER
What?

RICHIE
Get the fuck out of the car!

The driver realizes the man outside his taxi is crazy and
tries to get his window rolled up. Reaching in, Richie gets
his arm stuck, pulls at the lock, yanks the door open, drags
the driver out, breaking the cabbie's arm, and jumps in.

He swings the cab into opposing lanes to get around traffic,

screeches around the corner, glimpses the truck far up ahead
- guns the engine, flies through a red light, glances at his
mirror at the cars that just missed him almost colliding -

The truck turns up ahead, and Richie barrels through another

red light, turns the corner and keeps the truck, a couple
car-lengths ahead - in sight.

145 EXT. EAST HARLEM - DAY

145

Richie curbs the cab as the guy goes into a dingy pizza
parlor. Richie climbs out, crosses the street. Coming past
the place, he tries to look inside without breaking stride.

(CO
NT)

59
.

145 CONTINUED:
145

From around a corner, striding toward him, come four men

looking like Gestapo thugs in leather coats, manicured hair -
the Princes of the City. Richie detours into an alley as
they enter the restaurant.

Richie peers in at the restaurant kitchen through a grimy

basement window. Watches Trupo and his SIU detectives burst
in, guns drawn. They rough everybody up, get some down on
the floor. One detective gathers the money and stuffs it in
a bag. Another gathers the dope. The mechanic tries to
protest and Trupo slaps him down with his pistol.

Richie keeps watching as the NY cops arrest no one - but

 take the dope and the money (Richie's money) - and stride
out as abruptly as they appeared, like bandits. As they
come past Richie -

RICHIE
That's my money.

SIU DET 1
The fuck are you. What money?

Richie shows them his Bureau of Narcotics ID.

RICHIE
The bills are sequenced and registered
with the Essex County Prosecutors Office.
All begin with CF3500. Take a look.

One of them checks some of the bills and sees he's right.

SIU DET. 2
Goddamn it, I thought we had a score.
I thought I had a fucking Chris-Craft
sitting in my driveway.

RICHIE
Honest mistake. Just give it back to me.

SIU DET. 1
This time.

Three of the four cops laugh. It's an affable gang of

thieves. The one who doesn't laugh hangs back as the others
start off. He examines Richie's New Jersey ID.

TRUPO
When's the last time I was in Jersey?
Let me think. Never. What're you doing
coming over here without letting anybody
know? You don't know you can get hurt
doing that?
(MORE)
(C
ONT)

6
0.

145 CONTINUED:
145
TRUPO (CONT'D)
(Trupo smiles; Richie smiles)
You got your money. Now, never, ever,
come into the city again unannounced. You
come in to see a fuckin Broadway show you
call ahead first to see if it's okay with
me.
 Trupo pats him on the back and leaves with the others.

TOBACK V.O.
What do we hate most? Isn't it the
transgressions of others we fear we're
capable of ourselves?

147 - 148 OMIT 147 - 148 OMIT

149 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - LATER - NIGHT

149

It's very late. Richie and Toback are alone. Eventually

-

TOBACK
Richie - cops are like -

RICHIE
Yeah, I know, like everyone else.
Some of them will steal no matter what.
There can be a camera on them they'll do
it. Some'll never do it. The rest are
capable of either, depending how their
department leans ... Only theirs isn't
leaning, it's fallen over. The patrol
cars don't even stop in Harlem, just roll
down the window so the dealers can throw
the money in. I saw drops made on
precinct steps.
TOBACK
What were you doing there?

RICHIE
It's where this dope is coming from.
Blue Magic. Out of New York. What am
I supposed to do, ignore it?

TOBACK
The cab driver's filed aggravated assault
and grand theft charges -

RICHIE
He wouldn't stop. Motherfucker almost
ran me over.

(
CONT)

61.

149 CONTINUED:
149

TOBACK
- which he may reconsider depending on
the amount the State of New Jersey offers
to settle -

RICHIE
I told him I was a cop. I showed him my
identification.

TOBACK
You stole his cab and broke his arm.

RICHIE
I was chasing your 20 thousand dollars.

TOBACK
I don't want to hear about you going
into New York anymore.

RICHIE
Then my investigation's over.

TOBACK
You're not listening to me. I said:
I don't want to hear about it ... You do
whatever you have to do, go wherever you
have to go to find out who's bringing
this shit into the country ... Just don't
tell me.
(turns to leave)
Get some sleep.
A150 - 152 OMIT A150 - 152 OMIT

AA153 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - MORNING

AA153
Richie - in robe and underwear - opens the door to find a
woman in the hall holding a briefcase.

VIDA
Mr. Roberts? I'm here for our
appointment.

He has no idea who the black woman is. An old girlfriend

he's forgotten maybe. Behind him, Vida can see a stewardess
buttoning up her uniform by a little travel case on wheels.
The apartment itself, she can also see, is a mess.

VIDA
From Child Social Services?

A153 - 155 OMIT A153 - 155

OMIT
 62.

156 EXT/INT. TONY ZACA'S BACKYARD & POOL HOUSE - DAY 156

Barbecue after their Sunday softball game. Richie and his

O.C. friends - wise guys - still in their brown and orange
Weequahie jerseys, drinking beer, cooking hamburgers.

TONY
When you asked me to be your son's
godfather, I took it very seriously.

RICHIE
I know.

Richie and Tony Zaca relax in the den-like pool house.

TONY
I said yes, I'd take on this
responsibility, take care of your son,
God forbid something happened to you -

RICHIE
Tony, the things she's telling Child
Social Services make me look very bad:
Out all night. Lowlife informants
hanging around. Women -

TONY
Old friends like me.

Richie feels horrible doing this. Silence. Then:

TONY
It's all right. I understand. They
ask me, I'll tell them what you want me
to tell them. I'll lie for you.

RICHIE
Thank you.

Tony nods, You're welcome. Can tell there's something else

on Richie's mind.

TONY
What.

RICHIE
You don't have to talk about it, you
don't want. What do you hear about Blue
Magic? Anything?
 TONY
A lot of sorrow and misery from guys
being put out of business. That's all.
(CONT
)

63.

156 CONTINUED: 156

RICHIE
Nothing about who's bringing it in?

TONY
Guys down south is all I heard.

RICHIE
Down south, Florida? Cubans? What.

TONY
I don't know. All I can tell you is
whoever it is, they're upsetting the
natural order of things.

Among the framed family photos around them, is a picture

of Tony's uncle, Albert Tosca.

157 EXT. LIVINGSTON, NEW JERSEY - DAY

157

A Napoleonic statue of the same man on horseback in a

fountain outside a castle-like mansion. Next to it "ride"
three others on marble horses - a woman and two children.

TOSCA
Pull -

A clay pigeon sails out across the manicured garden. A

shotgun blast shatters it. The man with the gun - Albert
Tosca - hands another to Frank. As Frank sets to shoot, Ana
can seen behind them, with Tosca's wife in the opulent
house, looking uncomfortable.

MRS. TOSCA
The whole place was imported brick by
brick from Gloucestershire.

ANA
It's very nice.

Mrs. Tosca nods. Ana nods. A strained silence thicker than

the tapestries settles over them until -

FRANK
Pull -
 The shotgun booms -

158 INT. TOSCA'S MANSION - LATER - DAY

158

As servants stand by, Tosca and his wife and their only
guests - Frank and Ana - finished with lunch, get up from
the table in the formal Formal dining room.

(CO
NT)

64
.

158 CONTINUED:
158

As Mrs. Tosca leads Ana off to give her a tour of the house,
the men head off the other way.

TOSCA
She's a lovely girl. You should marry
her.

FRANK
Too many things to look after right now
to think about that.

TOSCA
Frank. That's a mistake. If I may say.
Don't take her for granted, girl like
that.

They enter a rich, wood-paneled study lined with books.

TOSCA
You interested in history, Frank? The
events that have brought us to where we
are today? You know who was? Bumpy.

FRANK
Bumpy was interested in a lot of things.

TOSCA
I always wonder if people know when
history's being made. And what they're
doing at the time. This, for instance,
could be a historic moment, and you're
sipping a glass of ice water.

Droplets snake down Frank's glass. He senses Tosca has

finally gotten around to why he was invited here.
TOSCA
Bumpy and I did a lot of business
 together, as you know. Whatever he
needed, he'd come to me and I'd do my
best to provide it. He came to me, I
didn't go to him, is the point I'm trying
to make. You know why?

FRANK
He didn't have what you needed. You had
what he needed. We've always had to come
to you.

TOSCA
Yes. Until now.

Tosca studies Frank, who is a study in inscrutability.

(C
ONT)

65.

158 CONTINUED: 158

TOSCA
Monopolies are illegal in this country,
Frank, because no one can compete with a
monopoly. If they let the dairy farmers
do that, half of them would go out of
business tomorrow.

FRANK
I'm just trying to make a living.

TOSCA
Which is your right. Because this is
America. But not at the unreasonable
expense of others. That's un-American.
(he studies Frank)
You know the price you pay for a gallon
of milk doesn't represent its true cost
of production. It's controlled. Set.

FRANK
I set a price I think is fair.

TOSCA
It's very unfair, in fact. Your
customers are happy, but what about your
fellow dairy farmers? You're not
thinking of them.

FRANK
(very calmly)
I'm thinking of them as much as they ever
thought of me.
 TOSCA
All right. I can see you're getting
excited. Don't get excited. That's not
why I invited you to my home. To get
excited.

Frank doesn't look excited at all. He's the picture of

calm. Tosca smiles benignly and gets up.

TOSCA
Here, I got something for you.

159 INT. TOSCA'S SMOKING ROOM - LATER - DAY

159

Tosca opens a humidor, takes out a couple of Cuban cigars.

TOSCA
Now what if - I'm just thinking out loud -
you sold some of your inventory wholesale
and I helped with the distribution.
(CO
NT)

66.

159 CONTINUED: 159

FRANK
I don't need it. I already got
everything from 110th Street to Yankee
Stadium, river to river.

TOSCA
Which is a little mom and pop store
compared to what I'm talking about. I
could make you bigger than K-Mart. L.A.,
Chicago, Detroit, Vegas. I'm speaking
nationwide. And I'd guarantee you peace
of mind. You know what I mean by that.

Frank does. It's a backhanded threat. Tosca clips the

cigars with a gold guillotine

TOSCA
Frank. You can see I'm a Renaissance
man. Unfortunately not all my people are
as enlightened. Ask them, What is civil
rights, they don't know. They're not as
open to change from the way things are
done and who's doing it. But I can talk
to them so there won't be any
misunderstanding. That's what I mean by
peace of mind.
 Frank knows, in truth, he's not being given any choice in
this matter. Still, maybe it's not so bad.

FRANK
You pay what a kilo now, 75, 80? I'd
consider 50. And I can get you as much
as you want.
Tosca slips on his best poker face. Fifty thousand a kilo
would be an extraordinary coup for him.

TOSCA
You see, I was right. This is a
historic moment. You're going to be
bigger than Bumpy himself.

He hands Frank one of the cigars, expertly prepared.

TOSCA
Can't smoke it here, unfortunately.
Grace doesn't like it. Take it with you.

67.

160 INT/EXT. TOSCA'S MANSION - LATER - DAY 160

Doc waits by the car as Frank and Ana walk toward him.
The Toscas wave goodbye from the front step of the mansion.
Frank slips the cigar into his top pocket as they climb in.

ANA
Why would you trust these people, the way
they look at you?

FRANK
They look at me like it's Christmas and
I'm Santa Claus.

ANA
They looked at us like we're the help.

FRANK
(kisses her cheek)
No. They're working for me now.

161 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY 161

A TV: Muhammad Ali, the black man's black man, and Joe
Frazier, the white man's black man, at their 1971 Madison
Square Garden press conference where Ali says as much.

Most of the guys watching it. Richie isn't. He comes

 over to Table of Organization. Tacks his Bar Association
notice to it. Regards the photographs, like tentacles of
octopus yet to have a head.

Only the lowest section is made up of blacks (including

Charlie Williams and Jackie Fox, but not Frank Lucas). The
rest of the faces are white and stop about midway up.
They've hit a wall they can't get past.

162 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - DUSK 162

Another TV here: Howard Cosell, ringside at the Garden as

the first early fans arrive, pointing out that the fight,
because of the political stand Ali's taken, is less about
boxers than war versus anti-war.

Frank chooses a linen jacket from his extensive color-

coordinated racks of Phil Cromfeld suits as Ana, in her
lingerie, puts on make-up at a vanity. He comes up behind
her and sets down a small jewelry box.

163 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - SAME TIME 163

The TV in the background as Richie puts a camera with a long

lens in a sports bag and reaches for his coat -
(CONT
)

68.

163 CONTINUED:
163

164 OMIT
164 OMIT

165 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - CONTINUED

165

Ana's reflection in the vanity mirror as Frank slips the

engagement ring on her finger. She wipes at a tear, then
gets up and hugs him.

ANA
Yes.

She kisses him. Admires the ring. And -

ANA
I bought you something, too.

She crosses past the TV, takes a garment bag down from her
side of the closet, lays it on the bed next to Frank's suit
jacket. She takes hold of the zipper but doesn't
 immediately pull it, hoping perhaps to create some dramatic
tension.

FRANK
What is it?

She unzips the bag like she's unveiling great art. But
instead of seeing what's inside, we're allowed only Frank's
reaction: his smile of anticipation slowly changing to
chagrin.

166 INT/EXT. MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - BACK ENTRANCE - NIGHT

166

Richie observes celebrities and gangsters arriving in

limousines - Sammy Davis Jr. and his wife, Joe Louis and
his, Tosca and some of his guys - then enters the arena as
another limo pulls up. Ana climbs out.

ANA
Come on. You look great.
(no one else emerges)
You want to miss the fight? Come on.

Finally, a patent leather shoe pokes out, sets down on the

curb. Then its mate beside it. The shoes step away from
the limo and -

167 INT. MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NIGHT

167

Pre-fight. Richie, blended in with the a group of press

photographers, regards the organized crime figures ringside.
He takes a few pictures with the long lens camera as -

(CONT)

6
9.

167 CONTINUED:
167

The owner of the gleaming patent leather shoes is shown to

his second row ringside seat just behind the sports writers,
and we move up the full-length chinchilla coat to Frank's
uneasy expression -

Richie's camera roams the faces of the prime ticket holders

ringside: organized crime figures, celebrities, politicians,
women with plunging necklines and platinum hair -

JOE LOUIS
 Excuse me -

Richie can't believe it's Joe Louis brushing past him -

RICHIE
Mr. Louis -

Joe looks back as Richie approaches him -

RICHIE
I'm sorry, but I just have to tell you,
sir, you were a hero to me growing up. I
still push elevator buttons eight times
for the rounds you beat Billy Conn in.
For luck.

Louis acknowledges Richie only slightly more than not at

all. Turns away to join his friends. Richie watches after
him, stung by Louis's disregard.

He snaps a picture of an Italian wise guy he doesn't

recognize ... sifts the camera's view past Frank in the
chinchilla coat ... then returns to him, watches as Tosca
and his guys sit down behind Frank. Richie can't hear -
but can see - their good-natured exchange -

TOSCA
Hey, Frank, you keep that hat on, I'm
gonna miss the fight -

The odd thing to Richie is, Chinchilla's seat is better

than all the Italians'. Detective Trupo notices this, too.
Richie focuses on the Chincilla's date, a stunning girl, a
beauty queen, then shifts back to her boyfriend who's now
shaking the proffered hands of other Italians, then Don
King. Joe Louis himself - who barely acknowledged Richie's
existence - comes over and playfully exchanges "punches"
with the man in the chinchilla coat.

A sudden roar from the crowd as the lights go out except

for the spot on the ring. Ali and Frazier are coming down
the steps through the crush of fans and reporters, preceded
by soldiers carrying flags -
(
CONT)

70.

167 CONTINUED: 167

Richie tries to find the guy in the chinchilla coat, but

he's hidden by a flag. Then he glimpses him again just as
Ali shakes his hand before climbing into the ring -

Flashbulbs pop throughout the arena as Robert Goulet

 begins the National Anthem. Ali pointedly doesn't sing
along. Richie frames the shadowy figure in the chinchilla
coat, focuses as sharp as he can in the bad light, and
snaps the shutter -

168 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY

168

Richie tacks the photograph of the man in the chinchilla

coat to his Table of Organization - low and off to the side
by other pieces of the puzzle that don't fit, other new
faces with no names. Spearman holds a scrap of paper -

RICHIE
That's is the plate number on the limo.
Check with the company, who rented it.

SPEARMAN
He's a supplier at most. Or just a pimp.
We'd've heard of him otherwise.

RICHIE
No, he's bigger than that. His seats
were phenomenal; better than Al Tosca's.
Joe Louis and Ali shook his fuckin hand.

They look from Tosca's high position on the board to Frank's

low one, and a wedding march played in traditional fashion
on organ begins and carries over:
169 INT. BAPTIST CHURCH - DAY
169

From above, a sea of ladies' hats, all coral and pink.

Below, Frank stands at the altar, waiting for his bride.

RICHIE V/O
His name is Frank Lucas ...

170 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY

170

Toback sifts through documents Richie has gathered:

limousine company records, Frank's thin arrest record, mug
shots of him years younger, the photograph from the fights
and some more from subsequent surveillances.

RICHIE
Originally from Greensboro, North
Carolina. Couple of arrests years ago.
Gambling, robbery, unlicensed firearm.
(MORE)
(CO
NT)

71.
170 CONTINUED: 170
RICHIE (CONT'D)
For fifteen years he was Bumpy Johnson's
collector, bodyguard and driver. He was
with him when he died.

171 INT. BAPTIST CHURCH - CONTINUED

171

Ana's family and friends on one side of the aisle, the

extended Lucas family - on the other. Frank's mother looks
at her eldest son at the altar with pride.

172 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

172

RICHIE
Five brothers, he's the oldest, lots of
cousins, all living here now, spread out
around the boroughs and Jersey. The
brothers are -

173 INT. DRY CLEANERS - DAY

173

A Lucas brother hands some dry cleaning to Spearman -

RICHIE V/O
Eugene Lucas in Brooklyn -

174 INT. ELECTRICAL SHOP - DAY

174

Another Lucas brother examines a lamp with a frayed cord

brought in by Jones.

RICHIE V/O
Earl Lucas in Newark -

175 INT. METAL DOOR SHOP - DAY

175
Another brother at the register, hands Abruzzo a receipt -

RICHIE V/O
Lester Lucas in Queens -

176 EXT. TIRE SERVICE SHOP - DAY

176

Another brother is photographed by Spearman from a parked

car as he changes tires on a car up on a hoist.

RICHIE V/O
Turner Lucas, the Bronx -

177 EXT. STREET - NEWARK - DAY

177

Richie kicks a dent into the fender of his old car.

7
2.

178 EXT/INT. BODY SHOP - DAY

178

As an appraiser writes up an estimate, Richie observes

Teddy, attending to paperwork inside.

RICHIE V/O
And Teddy Lucas, in Bergen County.

179 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

179

A photograph of Teddy goes up on the T.O. next to Frank and

the other brothers and some cousins -

RICHIE
Except for the chinchilla coat, which
no one can explain, Frank's life seems
orderly and legitimate.

180 INT. BAPTIST CHURCH - CONTINUED - DAY

180

Best Man Teddy standing next to Frank at the altar as the

bride is escorted down the aisle by her father. Tight on
Frank in a beautiful tuxedo -

181 EXT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE BUILDING - DAWN

181

A light goes on in a penthouse window. Down below, by his

parked car, Richie shivers in the early morning cold.

RICHIE V/O
He gets up early. Five a.m.

182 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

182
RICHIE
Has breakfast at a Midtown place,
usually alone.

183 INT/EXT. DINER - MORNING

183
 Richie tosses a glance inside a restaurant as he passes the
window to where Frank sits eating at a table, Doc nearby.

184 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

184

RICHIE
Then goes to work. Meeting with his
accountant, or lawyer, dropping in on one
of the several office buildings he owns.

185 OMIT 185

OMIT

7
3.

186 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

186

RICHIE
Nights, he usually stays home. When
he does go out, it's to a club or dinner -
with his new wife - friends, celebrities,
sports figures - never O.C. guys.

187 EXT. SMALL'S PARADISE - NIGHT

187

Richie sits in his car across from Small's where bouncers

keep out people like him. Frank, Ana, Wilt Chamberlain and
his wife emerge from the restaurant together.

188 OMIT 188

OMIT

189 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

189

RICHIE
Sundays he takes his mother to church.
Then drives out to change the flowers on
Bumpy's grave. Every Sunday, no matter
what.

190 INT. BAPTIST CHURCH - CONTINUED - DAY

190

Frank's mother tearfully watches her son slip a ring onto

Ana's finger next to the fat engagement diamond - before
Ana, in turn, puts a gold band on Frank's. The minister
pronounces them husband and wife, the veil is lifted, and
 they kiss to great applause -

191 EXT. BAPTIST CHURCH - DAY

191
As a photographer takes the official photograph of the
wedding party on the steps of the church -

192 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

192

Lou Toback looks from a surveillance photo of the wedding

party in his hands, to Richie's Table of Organization: The
Lucas brothers and cousins - in the streets of New York and
New Jersey, arranged in some imagined hierarchy.

TOBACK
Not your typical day in the life of a
dope man, Richie.

RICHIE
Neither was Bumpy Johnson's and he owned
Harlem.

(
CONT)

74
.

192 CONTINUED:
192

TOBACK
You think Frank Lucas took over for Bumpy
Johnson? His driver? That's a little
far-fetched.

RICHIE
Is it? Everything he does, he does like
Bumpy.

TOBACK
Bumpy never wore a chinchilla coat in his
life.

RICHIE
We haven't seen that again. That
apparently has been retired to the
closet.

193 EXT. BAPTIST CHURCH - DAY

193

Frank and Charlie look on as Ana throws the bouquet.

 CHARLIE
She's the most beautiful bride I ever
saw, Frank.

FRANK
I wish Bumpy could've met her. I wish
she could've met him.

194 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED

194

Looking at the Lucas Table of Organization -

TOBACK
What do you got on him you can use in
court? Because this isn't it. You try
this without informants and powder, no
one's going to jail.

RICHIE
Won't get any informants. Not inside.
It's like a Sicilian family. Like he's
structured his own family the same way to
protect himself.

195 EXT. BAPTIST CHURCH - CONTINUED

195

Exactly like one, like a scene from The Godfather as Frank

dances with Ana before the reception guests.

75.

196 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED 196

RICHIE
Being with Bumpy long as he was, he
would have been around Italians a lot.
Enough to learn that much.

197 EXT. BAPTIST CHURCH - CONTINUED 197

Rice rains down on the bride and groom as they climb into
the back of the Towncar. Doc comes around to the driver's
side, gets in and slowly pushes through the crush of guests
waving and throwing kisses.

198 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - CONTINUED 198

RICHIE
But it's not even Frank Lucas I want. I
want to know who he's working for: Which
 Italians are bringing the heroin in.

199 INT/EXT. TOWNCAR / NEW YORK - TWILIGHT 199

Flanked front and rear by Frank's security, the marriage

car moves along a rain-slick street. The newlyweds cuddle
in back. Another car pulls up alongside - Trupo's Shelby -
and Doc's right hand instinctively comes off the steering
wheel to settle on his holstered gun. Trupo smiles and
shakes his head, no.

200 EXT. CENTRAL PARK - LATER - TWILIGHT 200

The Lincoln and security cars and Trupo's Shelby parked.

FRANK
(to Ana)
Stay in the car

As Frank and Doc climb out, Frank motions to his other

security men to remain calm, he'll handle this.

TRUPO
Hello, Frank.

If Frank is surprised Trupo knows his name, he doesn't show

it, or anything else except an air of professional courtesy.

FRANK
Detective.

Trupo looks in at Ana in the back seat, smiles at her. She

turns her head away and closes the door. Trupo leads Frank
away for a private conversation -
(CONT
)

7
6.

200 CONTINUED:
200

TRUPO
You sure you done the right thing?
She's a beautiful girl - there's no
question - but she's got an attitude
on (her) -

FRANK
Listen to me. Before you say another
word - about her - or me - remember that
you're saying it on the most important
fuckin day of my life.

TRUPO
 Man walks around in a fifty thousand
dollar chinchilla coat and he never even
bought me a cup of coffee? Something
wrong there.

FRANK
I don't know what you're talking about.

TRUPO
You pay your bills, Frank?

FRANK
You want to keep talking, talk to my
lawyer, here's his card. You call him,
because we're done here -

TRUPO
Do you pay your bills, I asked you.

FRANK
If you're not getting your share, it's
not my fault, go ask the chief of police.

TRUPO
What's my share? You don't even know me.
Maybe I'm special.

FRANK
No, you're all the fuckin same.

TRUPO
(shows his shield)
What does that say?
(Frank ignores him)
Special - Investigations - Unit. See
that word there? "Special."
(he takes out a restaurant
business card)
Ten grand, first of each month, delivered
here.
(
CONT)

77.

200 CONTINUED:
200

Frank ignores the card, stares at Trupo like he's a fool.

FRANK
Detective ... There are some things you
don't do. This is one of them. Not on a
man's wedding day.
 Frank's resolve throws Trupo off his rhythm. He manages:

TRUPO
Have a nice honeymoon.

201 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - LATER - NIGHT

201

Frank doesn't carry Ana across the threshold. He strides in

leaving her at the front door, throws a match in the gas
fireplace, comes back from the bedroom a moment later with
the $50,000 chinchilla coat and throws it on the flames.

202 TELEVISION IMAGE:

202

A march on Washington, protesting the war (archive).

INT. JIMMY RACINE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

The report continues on a TV here as Teddy's driver, Jimmy

Racine, yells at his girlfriend -

JIMMY
Where is it?

DARYLYNN
Fuck you, I'm not telling you.
She comes past the TV and into the kitchen past a table
covered with dope paraphernalia.

JIMMY
Where is my fuckin dope? You and your
girlfriends take it again? I'll fuckin
kill you.

She yanks open a drawer, grabs a knife and slashes it at

him. He grabs a gun and she runs for the stairs -

203 EXT. JIMMY RACINE'S - APARTMENT - NIGHT

203

He chases her into the street, yelling, raises the gun and
fires, and she goes down, clutching at her butt, moaning -

78.

204 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - SAME NIGHT 204

Moaning here, too. Richie's lawyer-ex-girlfriend, in bed

with him.
 SHEILA
Richie, yes, fuck me like a cop, not
a lawyer -
(the phone rings)
Oh, God, Richie, no - don't answer it -
(he reaches to pick it up)
No, no, no -

RICHIE
Yeah -

SPEARMAN V/O PHONE

Richie. Newark just picked up one of the
celebrities on our Wall of Fame: Teddy's
driver. For attempted murder.

205 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - NIGHT 205

Richie's had Jimmy Racine brought over. Sits with him as

the Three Amigos watch from the shadows. Just coming off
his high, and the attempted murder, Jimmy looks disoriented
as he sits in cuffs in the dungeon-like basement.

RICHIE
Because it's an attempted homicide,
that's Grand Jury. Now, that Grand Jury
could come in very favorably. Might turn
out to be Attempted Manslaughter. Self
Defense even. She had a knife. Depends
on how I want to deal with you. You see
where this is going.

Jimmy looks around at the basement dungeon with concern.

JIMMY
The fuck is this place?

RICHIE
Let's say you beat it somehow. What do
you think Cousin Frank'll think of that?
He knows you had to sit here listening to
something like this. And then you beat
an attempted murder? Is he stupid?
He'll assume you talked.

Jimmy can easily imagine that scenario and it frightens him.

(CONT
)

79
.

205 CONTINUED:
205

RICHIE
You fucked up, Jimmy. But nobody knows.
Frank doesn't know. Yet. Do you want him
to read about it in the paper? Or do you
want to walk out of here - no bail, no
trial - just walk out, now.

206 EXT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAWN

206

Jimmy has thought about it all night and walks out of the
building into the chilly morning air.

RICHIE V/O
Jimmy? Look at me -

Jimmy looks over his shoulder as if Richie just called to

him from it, which he didn't. There's no one in sight -

RICHIE V/O
Any time I want to change my mind? I
don't like the quality of your work? I
can find a witness saw you shoot your
girlfriend. It just took me a while. I
even know what he'll look like. He'll
look just like you.

207 EXT. MEAT PACKING DISTRICT - DAY

207

Teddy's car comes around a corner and down the street.

208 INT. TEDDY'S CAR - MOVING - DAY

208

Jimmy Racine, wired, looks in the rear view mirror at Teddy

in the back seat, and, behind him, Richie's car following.
209 INT. RICHIE'S CAR - SAME TIME
209

Richie keeps Teddy's car in view ahead. Glances in his

mirror at the cars following him. His detectives.

210 EXT. MEAT PACKING DISTRICT - LATER - DAY

210

The detectives' cars parked behind a warehouse. Richie

peers into binoculars at: Teddy's car parked by Frank's
outside another warehouse loading dock. Frank gets out,
discusses something with his brother, comes past Jimmy to
some men in bloody white coats.

He talks to them, returns to his car, takes a valise from

 the trunk. He snaps it open revealing stacks of cash, hands
it over and walks to a semi-truck, glancing once in Richie's
direction. Though he can't see anyone there he gives a wave
to them - or is it to the truck driver to pull out -

80.

211 EXT. HARLEM STREET - DAY 211

Like Bumpy used to do every Thanksgiving, Frank and his

brothers, from the back of the truck, hand out hundreds of
freshly-butchered turkeys to the poor.

212 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY 212

Frank, in an apron, carries in a huge cooked turkey as the

extended Lucas family gathers around the table. It's like
Norman Rockwell painting -

213 INT/EXT. ALLEY / ROOMS HARLEM - SAME TIME - DAY 213

Another Thanksgiving picture: addicts shooting up and

nodding out in alleys and dingy rooms. Tight on needles,
veins, spoons, filth -

214 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - SAME TIME - DAY 214

Richie alone at his kitchen table with a sandwich and a

beer. The Macy's parade plays silently on his TV.

A215 INT/EXT. TRUPO'S HOUSE - SAME TIME - DAY A215

A doorbell summons Trupo. He comes through his entry.

Opens the front door. Finds no one there - except a large
live turkey on the doorstep. He stares at it nonplussed,
then looks up to a sound - a whoosh - as flames engulf the
interior and spit out the windows of his Shelby Mustang ...

B215 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY B215

The big knife in Frank's hand slices into the turkey and
lifts meat onto a plate that's passed from hand to hand, the
family engaged in several conversations at once, laughing -

215 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY 215

Bathroom. Jimmy Racine, shirt off, wired, changes the

batteries of the little tape recorder.

216 EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY 216

Jimmy comes out, tries to take a chair not too far from
 Frank who's watching his nephew toss pop-up flies for the
younger kids to catch.

FRANK
Stevie. Come over here.
(the nephew comes over)
I heard you didn't show up.
(MORE)
(CONT
)

8
1.

216 CONTINUED:
216
FRANK (CONT'D)
You're too busy to meet with Billy
Martin? After I set it up?

Stevie shifts around, not wanting to make Frank mad ...

STEVIE
I don't want to play pro ball, I decided.

FRANK
What're you talking about? This is your
dream since you were their age -
(the younger kids)
Maybe I can set it up again.

Stevie just stands there, uncomfortable. Finally -

STEVIE
It's not what I want. I want to do what
you do, Uncle Frank. I want to be you.

Frank stares at him unhappily. Teddy comes over but Frank

barely notices.

TEDDY
We got a problem.

217 INT. TEDDY'S CAR - MOVING - LATE AFTERNOON

217

Jimmy Racine behind the wheel. Frank and Teddy in back,

speaking quietly.

TEDDY
He's been cutting it so much it's down
to two, three percent pure.
FRANK
You tested it. You're sure.

Teddy nods. Frank notices Jimmy looking at them in the rear

 view mirror.

FRANK
The fuck you looking at?

218 EXT. JACKIE FOX'S CLUB - NEW YORK - DUSK

218

The car pulls up in front of a building in the clothing

district. Jimmy stays while Teddy and Frank go inside.

82.

219 INT. JACKIE FOX'S CLUB - DUSK 219

Jackie's club looks like a set from a blaxploitation film.

Frank and Teddy, led by a bodyguard, come past some turkey
carcasses and other remnants of Thanksgiving to where Jackie
and a couple friends cavort with some naked girls.

JACKIE
Frank. Welcome.

FRANK
We need to talk.

JACKIE
Great. Girls, get out.

The girls gather their things and leave. Frank wipes at a

modern leather chair with his handkerchief, throws it away,
sits. Jackie lays out a couple lines, offers Frank a rolled
up hundred dollar straw. Frank shakes his head, no thanks.

JACKIE
You talked to Charlie. You want to hear
more about my Black Coalition. Let me
explain it to you -

But first, let me suck up a line of coke -

FRANK
That's not why I'm here.
(Jackie glances up from the
powder. No?)
Everybody's happy, Jackie. Charlie, Baz,
the cops, the Italians, everybody.
Everybody except you.

JACKIE
I'm happy.
 FRANK
Then I don't understand. Why do you have
to take something that's perfectly good
the way it is, and wreck it?

Jackie doesn't seem to understand.

FRANK
Brand names mean something, Jackie.
Consumers rely on them to know what
they're getting. They know the company
isn't going to try to fool them with an
inferior product. They buy a Ford, they
know they're gonna get a Ford.
(MORE)
(CONT
)

83.

219 CONTINUED: 219

FRANK (CONT'D)
Not a fuckin Datsun.
(his look says, right?)
Blue Magic is a brand name; as much a
brand name as Pepsi. I own it. I stand
behind it. I guarantee it and people
know that even if they don't know me any
more than they know the chairman of
General Foods.

JACKIE
What the fuck are you talking about,
Frank?

FRANK
What you're doing, as far as I'm
concerned, when you chop my dope down to
five percent, is trademark infringement.

That. That's what this is about. Jackie nods, but -

JACKIE
With all due respect, Frank, if I buy
something, I can do whatever I want with
it.

FRANK
That's not true. That's where you're
wrong.

JACKIE
If I buy a car, I can paint it, God damn
it.

FRANK
 Jackie, you don't need to. You don't
need to make more money than you can with
Blue the way it is. No one does. At a
certain point it's just greed.

JACKIE
What do you want, Frank? You want me to
call it something else?

FRANK
I have to insist. You call it Blue
Magic, that's misrepresentation.

JACKIE
Fine. I'll call it Red Magic, even
though it doesn't sound as good.

FRANK
That's all I'm saying. Wrap it in red
cellophane and -
(CO
NT)

8
4.

219 CONTINUED:
219

JACKIE
Pink Magic. Black Magic -

FRANK
Whack it down to nothing, tie a bow
around it and call it Blue Dogshit if you
want, just don't let me catch you doing
this again.

Jackie regards Frank for a long moment ...

JACKIE
Catch me? Insist? Infringement? I
don't like these words as much as please -
thank you - sorry to bother you, Jackie.
These are better words to use you come
into my place without an invitation.

Jackie waits to hear a kinder word but Frank doesn't offer

one. Jackie nods, Fine, okay, but it's more like a warning.

220 INT. JACKIE'S CLUB - DUSK

220

Frank pulls a girl off Teddy's lap and points him toward
the door. Jackie watches them leave.
221 EXT. JACKIE'S CLUB - DUSK
221

They emerge from the building to where Jimmy waits.

TEDDY
Give me the keys; take a cab home.

222 INT. TEDDY'S CAR - MOVING - NIGHT

222
Frank and Teddy driving in silence. Eventually -

FRANK
You don't go over there any more.

Teddy doesn't like it, but nods. Suddenly his face is

illuminated by light reflecting in the rear view mirror, an
unmarked police car behind them, flashing its brights.

FRANK
It's all right, pull over, what are they
going to do? Give us a ticket?

But Teddy isn't as calm as he begins to pull over.

85.

223 EXT. GARMENT WAREHOUSE DISTRICT - NY - LATE AFTERNOON

223

As Trupo and his partner climb out of their car and approach
Teddy's -

TEDDY
Frank? Some of it's in the trunk.

Frank regards him with utter disbelief. Teddy shies as if

he expects to get hit. The SIU detectives arrive.

TRUPO
Hello, Frank.

FRANK
Detective. How's it going? You have a
nice Thanksgiving?

TRUPO
I did not, as a matter of fact. Get out
of the car.

The Lucases climb out.

 FRANK
Where's the Shelby?

TRUPO
The Shelby's gone, Frank.

Trupo reaches in the driver's side window, takes the keys

from the ignition and comes around to the trunk. Frank and
Teddy exchange a glance as it opens. Silence. Then -
TRUPO
Want to come over here a minute, Frank?

Six kilos of heroin are illuminated by the trunk light.

Frank and Trupo regard it in silence. Then -

TRUPO
Now what are we gonna do about this?

FRANK
We're gonna shut the trunk and say good
night, forget you pulled us over.

TRUPO
I got a better idea.

Trupo reaches into the trunk, picks up two of the heroin

bricks, tucks them under his arm and looks at Frank -

(CO
NT)

86.

223 CONTINUED:
223

TRUPO
Or would you rather I took it all and
threw you and your brother in the fuckin
river?

FRANK
I don't know, would you rather it's your
fuckin house blows up next time?

They hold each others' stare for a long moment.

TRUPO
I loved that car.

FRANK
I know.
 Trupo closes the trunk and walks away with his cut of the
heroin, calling to his partner -

TRUPO
Let's go.

As the SIU cops walk to their car, the perspective shifts,

through binoculars: Richie watching.

A224 INT. TEDDY'S CAR / STREET - LATER - NIGHT

A224

From outside the driver's side, Teddy's head, inside the

car, suddenly smashes against the window, cracking it. His
groan is interrupted by Frank's muffled voice -

FRANK
Don't you ever put me in a car with dope
in it.

224 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

224

Richie comes in, opens the fridge and stares in, his mind
elsewhere. A ringing phone pulls him out of it.

RICHIE
Yeah. Tony. How's it going?

225 INT/EXT. TONY ZACA'S HOUSE - DAY

225

Tony's wife and daughters can be seen in the suburban

backyard. Here in the kitchen Tony and Richie watch kernels
of popcorn bounce off the inside walls of the first Amana
microwave oven. It's noisier than modern ones.

RICHIE
The fuck is a `micro' wave?

(CONT)

8
7.

225 CONTINUED:
225

TONY
It's a scientific force like atomic
energy. It rearranges the molecules.

RICHIE
Of what.
 TONY
Of anything. Of popcorn. You don't
want to put your head in there.

Tony rakes out the plain, `pre-microwaveable' popcorn,

using his hand. Gives some to Richie. Half of it's burnt.

TONY
I can get you one of these. Just like
this, brand new. I'll have it delivered.

RICHIE
No, thanks. I don't want one.

Tony hands Richie some snapshots: The Zaca family on the

slopes of a resort, and in and outside a beautiful snow-
dotted cabin.

RICHIE
This is nice, where's this?

TONY
Aspen. Just got back. Had a great time.

RICHIE
I'd like to ski Aspen some day.
TONY
Know who we met? Burt Reynolds. I'm not
kidding. Lot of people from Hollywood go
up there now, buying up everything.

RICHIE
This is your place?

TONY
Are you kidding? You know what it's
worth? Ski-in-ski-out, five bedrooms,
sauna, everything. We were guests.
(pause)
No ... No, that's your place.

Everything seems to stop. Richie becomes aware of the

sounds around them, the girls splashing around outside ...

(
CONT)

8
8.

225 CONTINUED:
225

TONY
 Isn't there something we can do - about
leaving the big guy alone? You know who
I mean.

What Richie knows is that no matter what he does or says at

this point he's got a problem.

RICHIE
If I don't report what you just said
to me, you know I could be in a lot of
trouble. If I do, then it's you.

TONY
I'm hoping you won't do that.

Richie considers the room itself, measuring the odds of

microphones and a recorder being in it somewhere.

TONY
I'm not taping it. How do you know?
Because we're friends and I'm telling
you. This is a real offer.

RICHIE
From who, your uncle?
(Tony doesn't say)
Why would you do this? Why would you
risk our friendship?

TONY
Because I care what happens to you.

RICHIE
You shouldn't have done it.

TONY
I had to. I had no choice. Neither do
you. Leave Frank Lucas alone.

RICHIE
He's not important enough for you to do
this.

TONY
Yes, he is.

Richie stares at Tony, then puts the pictures in his hand.

RICHIE
Tell Marie I'm sorry I had to leave.
You can tell her why.

89.
226 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - LATER - NIGHT
226

Alone in the empty building, he stares at the T.O.: The

higher echelon Italians like Tosca; lower echelon Harlem
guys like Charlie Williams and Frank Lucas.

He gets up then, untacks Frank's photograph from its lowly

position and moves it to a place no black has ever occupied -
to the top of the pyramid - above the mafia.

227 - 230 OMIT 227 - 230 OMIT

A231 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - DAY

A231

Toback regards Frank's picture at top of the Lucas T.O.

RICHIE
INS, FBI, IRS - I can't get anything out
of them. Nothing on his travel, his bank
accounts, property holdings - nothing.

TOBACK
That's because they all think you're on
the take and you think they are.

RICHIE
They don't want this to stop. It
employs too many people. Cops, lawyers,
judges, probation officers, prison
guards. The day dope stops coming into
this country, a hundred thousand people
lose their jobs.
Toback isn't as sure the corruption of the official world is
that complete.

SPEARMAN
Richie. Excuse me.

Spearman gestures to a couple of men in suits who want to

talk to him.

B231 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - LATER - DAY

B231

Richie and Tobacke regard the two stone-faced FBI agents -

RICHIE
Who took it out?
(nothing from the agents)
If there's a contract on me, it would be
 nice to know who took it out.
(CO
NT)

90.

B231 CONTINUED:
B231

FBI AGENT
We can't say without compromising our
source. You understand.

RICHIE
No. I don't. Not when it's my life.

FBI AGENT
If you want, we can assign someone to
you.

RICHIE
Who? FBI? You're going to protect me?

Richie almost laughs at the thought, looks to Toback.

In
fact, none of this is funny.

C231 EXT. STREET - NEWARK - NIGHT

C231

Walking toward his apartment down its dark street, bag of

groceries in arm, Richie becomes aware someone is following
him. He slows to let the figure get closer, closer, then
turns fast, drops the guy and puts a gun to his head.

MAN
Don't shoot! For God's sake.

Richie keeps the gun pressed against the guy's forehead.

RICHIE
Talk.

MAN
Are you Richard Roberts? I got a
subpoena.

231 INT. COURTROOM - NEWARK - DAY

231

Richie and Laurie sit with their respective lawyers, waiting

for the judge to appear. He leans over -

RICHIE
 Laurie. I'm sorry I couldn't give you
the kind of life you wanted. I'm sorry
it was never enough. But don't punish me
for being honest. Don't take my son
away.

She stares at him in disbelief. Then responds in a louder

voice than his -

(CONT)

91
.

231 CONTINUED:
231

LAURIE
What are you saying? That because you
were "honest" and didn't take money like
every other cop, I left you?

The bailiff looks over, but she doesn't care.

LAURIE
You don't take money for one reason:
to buy being dishonest about everything
else. And that's worse than taking money
nobody gives a shit about - drug money,
gambling money nobody's gonna miss.
(more people look over)
I'd rather you took it and been honest
with me. Or don't take it, I don't care.
But don't then go cheat on me. Don't
cheat on your kid by never being around.
Don't go out and get laid by your
snitches and secretaries and strippers.
I can tell just by looking, she's one
of them.

His lawyer. Which is true. Everyone's watching them now.

LAURIE
You think you're going to heaven because
your "honest." You're not. You're going
to the same hell as the crooked cops you
can't stand.

BAILIFF
All rise -
232 INT. COURTROOM - LATER - DAY
232
 The same judge who sends a collection plate around sits
before Richie and Laurie and their attorneys.

SHEILA
Your honor, a lot has been said here
today about how unsavory Mr. Roberts'
environment is for a child. How
dangerous it is. I'm sorry, but this is
our world. This is where we live and we
tell him, Protect us. We give him that
responsibility, and then say, Oh, but we
don't trust you to raise a child. We
don't think you're fit for that.

RICHIE
I'm not.

(C
ONT)

92.

232 CONTINUED:
232

Silence. Sheila looks at him, but he's looking at Laurie,

and speaks to her like they're alone in the room:

RICHIE
You're right. This is no place for him.
Around me. Take him. The further away
the better. For him.

233 OMIT 233

OMIT

234 TV IMAGE (ARCHIVE):

234

The lights on the Rockefeller Christmas tree blink on to

applause. A carol begins and continues over:

A235 OMIT A235

OMIT

235 INT/EXT. FRANK'S CAR / FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

235

Seats covered with Christmas presents. Doc, driving, sees

Trupo's car parked out front Frank's penthouse.

DOC
Frank -
 FRANK
Yeah, I see them.

Doc pulls to the curb outside Frank's building. As the

doorman helps Doc with the big Christmas tree tied to the
roof of the car, Frank crosses to Trupo's car with a couple
of bottles of Crystal tied with holiday bows.

FRANK
Here you go, boys. Merry Christmas.

236 OMIT 236

OMIT

237 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

237

Charlie has come to visit. A Christmas carol plays as Frank

strings the tree with some lights.

FRANK
Paying cops is one thing, I understand
that. I been paying them since I was ten
- put more of their kids through college
than the National Merit Award. This is
different, this Special Investigations
Unit. They think they are special.

(CONT)

93.

237 CONTINUED: 237

CHARLIE
They're fucking crooks. No code of
ethics.

Frank plugs the cord in and the tree lights up.

FRANK
Someone's been following me. Besides
cops. I see cars where they shouldn't
be. Guys I don't know -

CHARLIE
Me, too.

They regard each other. The carol continues over:

238 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - LATER - NIGHT

238

Ana hangs tinsel on the tree as Frank gives the shepherd

some dog toy presents he's bought. More to himself:

FRANK
Bumpy hardly ever went out at a certain
point. He stayed in - read - watched TV -
played chess. I thought he chose to lead
a quiet life. He didn't. He couldn't go
out without something happening.

ANA
We can still go out.

FRANK
Where? With who? Everyone I know is
under surveillance. I can't even be with
my family at Christmas anymore.

He gets up, pets the dog, and looks out the window at
Christmas angels stretched across the street, at people on
the sidewalk, wondering perhaps which of them are undercover
cops, at Trupo's car, still parked outside.

ANA
Why don't you just pay who you have to
pay?

FRANK
I do pay them, I pay them all. Cops,
accountants, lawyers, who don't I pay?
Everybody. I pay them a fortune, it
doesn't matter. It doesn't satisfy them.
The more you pay, the more they expect.
(MORE)

(CO
NT)

94.

238 CONTINUED:
238
FRANK (CONT'D)
You can't start with them because they
can't stop. It's like dope. They
always want more.

Ana looks vulnerable. Frank almost feels bad that it's his
life and problems that have put them here. Eventually, to
try to turn it around -

FRANK
Put on something nice, we're going out.
239 INT/EXT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE BUILDING - NIGHT
239

Frank and Ana emerge from a service elevator, come down a

dark hall and out the back door to an alley to where Doc
waits with the car in the falling snow.
240 OMIT 240 OMIT

241 EXT. SMALL'S PARADISE - LATER - NIGHT

241

Frank's car approaches Small's just as Jackie, with a

Santa Claus hat on, climbs out of a sky blue Bentley with
his entourage. Frank groans to Doc -

FRANK
Keep going.

DOC
Around back?

FRANK
Fuck that. I'm not going to sneak into
my own club. Just drive.

242 OMIT
242 OMIT
243 INT. CHINESE TAKE-OUT PLACE - NIGHT
243

Waiting for a take-out order under harsh fluorescent lights -

ANA
I'm going to wait in the car.

DOC
Go ahead, Frank. I'll wait for it.

FRANK
You can carry it all? We ordered a lot.

Doc nods, go on, go with Ana. Frank hands him a couple

twenties. Ana's already outside.

(CONT)

95.

243 CONTINUED:
243
 FRANK
Don't forget the yellow sauce.
244 OMIT 244
OMIT

245 EXT. STREET - CHINATOWN - NIGHT

245

Ana's half a block ahead, waiting outside the locked car by

the time Frank arrives and realizes -

FRANK
Doc's got the keys. Let's go back.

ANA
The lights give me a headache, you go.

FRANK
I'm not leaving you on the street.

ANA
Get the keys, Frank, it's cold.

He starts back through cascading snow. Notices a car

coming
slowly down the street -

246 INT. CHINESE PLACE - CONTINUED

246

The cook dumps sizzling vegetables into a take-out container

and puts it in a bag -

247 EXT. STREET - CHINATOWN - CONTINUED

247

The car passes, continues to the end of the block, turns the
corner.
248 OMIT 248 OMIT
249 INT. CHINESE PLACE - CONTINUED
249

Doc hands over money, waits for his change -

DOC
Gimme some of that yellow sauce.

250 EXT. STREET - MIDTOWN - CONTINUED

250

Frank sees the car again, coming around the corner, walks
briskly back to where Ana waits. The car is almost upon
them as he grabs her by the wrist and pulls her hard along
the sidewalk. The car guns its engine -
251 OMIT 251
OMIT

9
6.

252 INT/EXT. CHINESE PLACE - CONTINUED

252

As Frank pushes in past the doors with Ana, the windows

explode. They dive to the floor, bullets ripping through
the place.

Doc draws his two guns and fires back at the car, hitting
it a couple times as it screeches off. He gathers Ana and
Frank off the floor like a presidential bodyguard, hustles
them out to the car. Frank's shoulder is bleeding.

DOC
You hit?

FRANK
What the fuck was that?

They pile in and Doc screeches away from the curb.

253 OMIT 253

OMIT

254 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

254

Heavy security in the hallways: Frank's own men and some

cops he's got on the payroll. Ana steps from the elevator
and hurries past, early edition New York paper in hand.

255 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

255

The brothers watch as a private doctor attends Frank's

wounds. He seems all right fine except for the fact that
someone had the fucking nerve to take a shot at him - and
Charlie he sees in the newspaper - gunned down, dead, lurid
Weegee-like photo of him on the front page.
TEDDY
Was it Jackie?
(Frank doesn't say)
I'll fuckin kill him whether it was or
not, you tell me to.
(nothing from Frank)
What do you want us to do, Frank? We
can't just sit here and -
 FRANK
Who didn't like Charlie? Everybody liked
Charlie ...

ANA
Who shot at us?
(Frank can't tell her)
It doesn't matter. We're leaving.

(
CONT)

97.

255 CONTINUED:
255

She pulls a drawer open. Takes out their passports.

Begins packing. The brothers watch, not sure what to do,
or say. To them -

FRANK
Go home. Go see your kids.

He obviously wants to talk to Ana alone. Pulls away from

the doctor. They all leave. Ana keeps packing.

FRANK
What are you doing? Where've you been?

ANA
We're leaving from here. Money's in
the car.

FRANK
What money?

ANA
Everything from your mother's house.

FRANK
In your car?

ANA
Yes.

FRANK
Where's the car?

ANA
Out front.
FRANK
With ten million dollars in it?
 ANA
I didn't count it.

FRANK
Are you crazy? Take it back to Teaneck.
What are you doing driving around without
security? Doc'll take you back.

ANA
We're not going there, we're going to the
airport. We're leaving the country.

FRANK
To go where? No, we're not.

(CONT)

98.

255 CONTINUED:
255

ANA
Frank, Charlie's dead. They tried to
kill us. What else has to happen - ?

He grabs her and holds her to calm her down.

FRANK
Shhh. Come on, now. Shhh.

He holds her close, waits for her breathing to slow before:

FRANK
Where are we going to go? Spain?
China? Which fuckin place is it going
to be?

ANA
We can go anywhere we want. We can live
anywhere.

FRANK
We can run and hide is what you're
saying.

He slowly shakes his head: that's something he'll never do.

FRANK
This is where I'm from. This is where
my family is. My business. My mother.
This is my place. This is my country.
 This is America.

256 - 263 OMIT 256 - 263

OMIT
264 EXT. HUDSON RIVER - MORNING
264

The Statue of Liberty in morning light and mist rises from

the waters of the Hudson River.

A265 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - MORNING

A265

Richie, at his desk, looks up to see Trupo walking through

the squad room, followed by Spearman.

SPEARMAN
Said he'll only talk to you.

B265 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - LATER - MORNING

B265

Trupo's attitude has completely changed from the first time

they met. He talks to Richie now like a fellow conspirator -

(CONT)

9
9.

B265 CONTINUED:
B265

TRUPO
From what I hear, it was the Corsicans.
The French Connection, Fernando Rey, the
exporters Frank has put out of business.
Now, I can take care of him in New York,
but I don't want to have to worry every
time he drives across the bridge to
Jersey someone's gonna take another shot
at him.

Richie gives nothing away even as it stuns him that Trupo

would speak to him this blatantly.

TRUPO
We need to start working together. We
need to step up our efforts. Next time
their aim could be better. We need to
keep this cash cow alive.

Jimmy Racine comes in - sees Trupo - and leaves - but not

 before Trupo has seen him. And now he sees the Lucas Table
of Organization he didn't notice when he came in. Gets up
and walks over to it now and takes a closer look. Sees
Frank's picture at the top, like Enemy Number 1.

TRUPO
Jesus. What the fuck you doing here?
You actually going to arrest Frank Lucas?
What's the matter with you?

RICHIE
I'm crazy. Can't you tell that? I'm
crazy enough to shoot someone and make it
look like an accident next time he comes
over the bridge without my permission.
Get the fuck out of New Jersey.

They regard each other a moment before Trupo turns to leave.

C265 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - DAY

C265

A large TV shows chaotic scenes in Saigon. The US is

pulling out of Vietnam. Tosca has come to see how Frank is
recovering, and finds him, agitated, too long in bed even
though it's only been a day, changing into a nice shirt,
putting on his shoes -

FRANK
"I can guarantee you peace of mind,"
you said. Do I look like a man with
peace of mind to you? They shot at my
wife. Who does that?
(MORE)
(C
ONT)

1
00.

C265 CONTINUED:
C265
FRANK (CONT'D)
Who was it, which one of your people?
I'll take that gun away and shove it up
their ass.

TOSCA
I don't know that it was any of them,
Frank. Neither do you.

FRANK
Then maybe I'll kill them all just to
make a fuckin point.

Tosca seems more philosophical about it - like Bumpy might

 have been - but it wasn't him who was shot at.

TOSCA
You want to know who it was? I can
tell you. It was a junkie. Or a rival.
Or some dumb ass kid trying to make a
name for himself. Or someone you forgot
to pay off. Or slighted without
realizing it. Or someone you put out of
business by being too successful.
(pause)
Success has a lot of enemies. Your
success is who took a shot at you. How
you gonna kill it? By being
unsuccessful? You can be successful and
have enemies, or unsuccessful and have
friends. It's the choice we make.

265 INT. MASSAGE ROOM - SOUL BROTHERS BAR - NIGHT

265

A call has interrupted Nate's massage (and later activities)

with a bevy of Thai girls. He wraps himself in a robe,
takes the phone.

NATE
Hello?

266 INT. REGENCY HOTEL - SAME TIME - DAY

266

Frank on a pay phone in a comfortable alcove with a stack

of quarters. Other guests are gathered around a TV in the
lounge that shows images of helicopters plucking diplomats
off the roof of the American Embassy in Saigon.

FRANK
I'm watching the news. Where the hell's
everyone going?

NATE
Home. The war's over.

(
CONT)

10
1.

266 CONTINUED:
266

FRANK
Just like that? We're going to leave the
fuckin country to the communists?
 NATE
We been here since 1961, Frank.

FRANK
I haven't!

HARD CUT TO:

267 EXT. JUNGLE - DAY

267

Frank and Nate and their "army" of black servicemen and Thai
thugs wind through the jungle with pack mules.

268 INT. BAMBOO DWELLING - OPIUM FARM - DAY

268

The same farm and hut as before. Frank and the Chinese
General sip tea. The four million dollars in cash Frank
brought sits on the table.

GENERAL
Opium plants are hearty enough to
outlive any war. They'll still be here
long after the troops are gone. But what
are you going to do for transportation
when the last US plane goes home?

FRANK
I'll figure something out. You'll see
me again.
The General seems fond of Frank, and not only because of all
the money on the table.

GENERAL
It's not in my best interest to say
this, Frank ... but quitting while you're
ahead is not the same as quitting.

FRANK
That's what my wife thinks.

GENERAL
But you don't think she's right.

Frank doesn't say.

102
.

269 EXT. OPIUM FARM - DAY

269

Mules are loaded up with burlap bags containing 3,000 kilos

of heroin.

A270 EXT. OPIUM FARM / JUNGLE - DAY

A270

The mule train approaches the jungle that surrounds the

opium farm. Nate's Thai thugs, left behind in sniper
positions in the trees, stand ready to open fire if they
have to as Frank, Nate, the soldiers and mules pass below.

B270 EXT. JUNGLE - LATER - DAY

B270

They seem to have made it, winding back down through the
jungle with the mules. Suddenly a barrage of gunfire erupts
from the trees - a couple of Nate's men are hit as the rest
dive for cover, shouting "Vietcong," and returning the fire.
Frank drops down from his mule, gets a pistol out and shoots
into the trees. Bullet-severed palm fronds rain down.

FRANK
Give them half!

Nate, pinned down by the mules, can't hear him over the
noise.

FRANK
Cut half of them loose! The mules!

Nate cuts the mule-train tether in the middle, slaps at the

animals. As the freed mules disappear into a wall of trees
the shooting subsides, then stops altogether. Smoke from
all the gunfire rises like mist around the half dozen Thais
and Americans lying dead on the ground.

270 EXT. STREET - NIGHT

270

Teddy makes out with a girl in the back seat of his car.
The pay phone just outside on the corner rings, and he gets
out, steps past Jimmy, answers it -

271 INT. SOUL BROTHERS BAR - BANGKOK - INTERCUT - DAY

271

A Thai singer attempts Otis Redding on the little stage.

Frank, at a table here, with a drink and a phone.

FRANK
Newark. Short Term Parking Lot 3.

TEDDY V/O
When you need it? Today?
 (CO
NT)

103.

271 CONTINUED: 271

FRANK
Tomorrow will be fine.

272 EXT. STREET - CONTINUED 272

Jimmy loiters close enough to the open pay phone, to hear

Teddy's side of the conversation.

TEDDY
Short Term Lot 3. This the Mustang were
talking about ... Camero? ... What's the
plate number?
(writes on a napkin)
Yeah, I got it ... I got it, Frank ...
(sighs; reads from the
napkin:)
KA 760.

273 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY 273

Jimmy's come over to share his news with the detectives.

But Richie isn't pleased with it - or with Jimmy.

ABRUZZO
There's no Short Term Lot 3 at Newark.
They're lettered, A, B, C, D -

JIMMY
I'm just telling you what I heard -

ABRUZZO
Then you heard wrong!

Jimmy shies back a step in case Abruzzo takes a swing.

SPEARMAN
Maybe he means the time? 3 o'clock?

JONES
And this isn't a Jersey plate. Or New
York. Not with just two letters. It's
three and three, not two and three -

JIMMY
It's what he said -

JONES
Then what the fuck is it -
 JIMMY
The fuck should I know -

(CON
T)

104.

273 CONTINUED:
273

ABRUZZO
You're fuckin lying -

JIMMY
It's what he said. I'm sure.

SPEARMAN
KA 760 -

JIMMY
Yes!

Silence. They all look at each other. After a moment

-

RICHIE
None of you ever been in the service?
It's an Air Force tail number.

274 EXT. SKY - DAY

274

The plane, with that tail number, descends through clouds.

275 EXT. NEWARK AIRPORT - DAY

275

Richie's entire staff of detectives, along with Toback, the

DA and several customs agents, stand on the tarmac, watching
the military plane taxiing toward them -

276 EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY

276

Quiet sounds of suburban domesticity - chirping birds, a

distant lawn mower -

277 EXT. NEWARK AIRPORT - CONTINUED

277
The cabin door slides up, the passengers begin emerging:
Military officers, embassy personnel and families. Richie's
 detectives and Toback watch him with concern as the official
passengers, met by a bevy of assistants, file past -

278 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - CONTINUED

278

The kitchen. Frank's mother shows Ana some old photographs

of Frank as a boy as they sip coffee. There's a tap on the
glass French door. The women look up and see Trupo just
outside it, and other police moving past. He waves.

279 OMIT 279

OMIT

280 EXT. NEWARK AIRPORT - CONTINUED

280

An Army captain approaches Richie's law enforcement group.

(CONT)

105.

280 CONTINUED: 280

RICHIE
Captain, I'm Richard Roberts, Director of
the Essex County Narcotics Bureau.

281 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - CONTINUED 281

Front door. Trupo sort of waves a search warrant at Julie

as invites himself in. The NY cops follow, fan out. Trupo
and his detectives head upstairs -

282 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - LATER 282

The plane has been brought into a hangar where it's being
taken apart like a car stripped by thieves. Inside the
cabin, seats are removed and inspected, carpeting pulled up,
panels unscrewed, lavatories dismantled.

283 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - CONTINUED 283

Downstairs - Ana and Frank's mother, guarded, can hear

Trupo and his detectives, upstairs, ransacking a bedroom.

Upstairs - the SIU detectives pull open drawers, throw

clothes from the closets. Trupo picks up an invitation to
a United Nations ball, tosses it down again. Finds a safety-
deposit box key in a sock drawer, puts it in his pocket.

284 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - CONTINUED 284

 The engines and landing gear are disassembled, the tires
opened up and searched. A nozzle plunges into a toilet and
pumps out the contents into barrels detectives fish through
with gloved hands -
285 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - LATER - DAY 285

Ana is taken upstairs, brought before the SIU detectives

who wait for the NYPD cops to leave the room. The place
has been torn apart.

TRUPO
Your husband's illustrious career is
over. The Feds are going to come in and
take it all. Everything. But not before
I get my gratuity. Where's the money?

ANA
There was some on that dresser, but it's
gone now so I guess you (took it) -

TRUPO
The money! The getaway money Frank and
every other gangster keeps in his house!
(CON
T)

10
6.

285 CONTINUED:
285

ANA
If you leave now, there's a chance
Frank might not kill you -

Trupo slaps her hard across the face -

286 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - LATER

286

Richie, off by himself, watches with a growing sense of

panic as the mechanics, detectives and customs agents begin
removing the metal skin from the plane. Coffins are being
off-loaded.

287 INT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - LATER

287

Downstairs, Mama Lucas puts washcloth on Ana's swollen

cheek. They can hear the search continuing upstairs: things
being ripped from the walls, the walls themselves splintered
apart with sledgehammers, glass breaking. To Mama Lucas -

ANA
 I'm sorry.

288 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - LATER

288

They've looked everywhere and found nothing. The plane,

in fact, hardly resembles a plane anymore - no panel left
that hasn't been removed, no cavity not probed - except -

Richie's glance settles on the military caskets as they're

loaded onto a truck, armed soldiers standing guard -

289 INT/EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY

289
Frank's bedroom has been destroyed. Trupo, standing at a
window glances out at the sound of a barking of a dog to see
Frank's German shepherd down in its kennel.

290 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - CONTINUED

290

Richie gets up slowly and approaches the coffins as -

291 EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - DAY

291

Trupo crosses the lawn toward the kennel and barking dog -

292 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - CONTINUED

292

Richie stands over the nearest coffin -

RICHIE
Open it.

(C
ONT)

107.

292 CONTINUED: 292

The army captain regards the detective for a long moment.

RICHIE
The warrant permits me to search the
plane and its cargo.

The captain doesn't comply. Richie moves to open the coffin

himself and every soldier's shouldered rifle immediately
comes into firing position, aimed at him.

ARMY CAPTAIN
But you don't have my permission.
 Richie stares at the weapons and the uniformed men holding
them, safeties off, fingers on the triggers; all they're
waiting for is their commander's order to fire.

RICHIE
I don't need it.

293 EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - CONTINUED 293

Trupo regards the shepherd snarling at him from behind the

kennel fence. Comes around back. Pushes at the frame. It
moves a little, like it's levered -

294 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - CONTINUED 294

With the rifles still pointed at him, Richie kneels down,

pulls the latches of the coffins, half expecting to hear an
accompanying barrage of gunfire. He lifts the lid. Sees a
long black body bag inside -

295 EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - CONTINUED 295

Trupo comes around to the front of the kennel again with his
gun out and aims it at the dog. As he fires -

296 INT. AIRPORT HANGAR - CONTINUED 296

Richie pulls at the zipper, parting the plastic body bag,

revealing the remains of a young soldier -

US ATTORNEY
That's enough.

297 EXT. MAMA LUCAS'S TEANECK, N.J. HOUSE - CONTINUED 297

The dead dog slides against the fencing as Trupo overturns

the kennel to reveal Frank's stash of cash.

108.

298 INT. AIRPORT HANGER OFFICE - MINUTES LATER - DAY 298

Richie and Toback sit before the Federal Attorneys and

customs agents. The US Attorney hangs up a phone ... then:

US ATTORNEY
That was a military transport plane. If
there was heroin on board then someone in
the military would have to be involved.
Which means that even as it fights a war
that's claimed 50,000 Americans lives,
the military is smuggling narcotics.
 Richie's in serious trouble and knows it. As does Toback.

US ATTORNEY
That's how these events are being
interpreted by General Easton in that
call to me. That someone employed by the
this office believes the United States
Army is in the drug trafficking business -
and is trying to prove it by desecrating
the remains of young men who've given
their lives in the defence of democracy.

RICHIE
There are drugs on that plane -

US ATTORNEY
Shut the fuck up.

Richie does, but can't conceal the contempt he feels for

these men who've never spent a minute on the street but act
as if know more than him, and who are, in the unfortunate
organization of his world, his superiors.

US ATTORNEY
Is it any wonder then, because of your
actions, the entire federal narcotics
program is now in jeopardy of being
dismantled as completely and enthusiastic-
ally as that fucking transport plane?
That's what you've accomplished Mr.
Roberts. Single-handedly.

RICHIE
I had good information the target of my
investigation was bringing dope in on
that plane.

US ATTORNEY
And that target is?

(CONT)

109.

298 CONTINUED: 298

RICHIE
Frank Lucas.

No one in the room, except Richie and Toback, has ever

heard the name. The federal men regard one another blankly.

US ATTORNEY
Who? Who's Frank Lucas?
 (no one seems to know)
Who's he work for? Which family?

RICHIE
He's not Italian. He's black.

Now there's a longer, even deeper silence, before -

US ATTORNEY
Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?
You're this close to the end of your
career in law enforcement, you're making
jokes?

RICHIE
I believe Frank Lucas is above the mafia
in the dope business. I believe he buys
direct from the source in Southeast Asia,
cuts out all the middlemen, and uses US
military planes and personnel to bring
pure No. 4 heroin into United States.

Richie is looking at faces that are still trying to make

sense out of his ridiculous theory. Toback tries to come to
his defense -
TOBACK
Richie has a lot of experience -

US ATTORNEY
Does he. And how many arrests has he
made in his so-called investigation?

RICHIE
I was promised when I took this job, it
was about real arrests.

US ATTORNEY
Does that mean `none?'

RICHIE
I have cases against most of Frank's
organization. Not him -

(CON
T)

110.

298 CONTINUED:
298

US ATTORNEY
(more to the others)
 Frank's organization -

RICHIE
That's right.

US ATTORNEY
No fucking nigger has accomplished what
the American Mafia hasn't in a hundred
years!

RICHIE
Yeah, you'd know, sitting here, having
never been on the (street) -

US ATTORNEY
Lou, get this fucking kike out of here -

Richie goes for him and lands several punches before Toback
and the others can pull him off.

299 OMIT
299 OMIT

300 INT/EXT. AIRPORT HANGAR OFFICE - DAY

300

Richie and Toback walk briskly across the lobby -

TOBACK
He was out of line, Richie.

Richie isn't really listening. Strides past his detectives

on his way out of the building. To Spearman -
TOBACK
It's over. You're shut down.

Toback watches as the detectives follow after Richie

striding toward his car.

301 - 302 OMIT 301 - 302

OMIT

A303 INT/EXT. AIRPORT TERMINAL - NIGHT

A303

Frank comes out with an airline representative to find Doc

waiting for him. He can tell immediately something's wrong.

B303 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

B303

Frank slaps a cartridge into the butt of a pistol.

FRANK
Ten million dollars means nothing to me.
(CONT)

11
1.

B303 CONTINUED:
B303

Ana stares at the floor. It all just seems to get worse and
worse. They had their chance to get out and missed it.

FRANK
This - is his death warrant.

He lightly touches his wife's bruised face and walks out.

C303 INT. FRANK'S PENTHOUSE - NIGHT

C303

He comes down the stairs to where Doc waits. As they head

for the door -

MRS. LUCAS
Frankie -

Frank glances to where his mother sits in the living room.

Nods to Doc to say, Get the car, I'll be out in a minute.
Goes over to his mother.

MRS. LUCAS
Sit down.

He sits. She studies him in a way she hasn't since he was

little. Eventually -

MRS. LUCAS
If you'd have been a preacher, your
brothers would be preachers. If you'd
been a soldier, they'd be soldiers. Do
you know that?
(he doesn't say)
They all came here because of you. You
called and they came running. They look
up to you. They expect you to always
know what's best.
(pause)
But even they know you don't shoot
cops. Even I know that. Ana knows it.
You seem to be the only one who doesn't.

FRANK
Is that where I'm going?

MRS. LUCAS
I never asked you where all this came
 from because I didn't want to hear you
lie to me. Don't lie to me. Don't do
that, too.

She's not pleading, she's telling. Silence. Then -

(C
ONT)

11
2.

C303 CONTINUED:
C303

MRS. LUCAS
Do you really want to make things so
bad for your family they'll leave you?
Because they will. She will -
(points upstairs)
I know I will.

Frank has some trouble looking at her. But then gets up.
Walks toward the front door to leave. Hesitates near it a
long moment. Then turns and walks upstairs. Trupo will
live, at least for now, because of her.

D303 INT. ARMY HOSPITAL - NIGHT

D303

Down in the basement, the body bags are lifted from the
wooden coffins. Set down on tables. The bags unzipped and
the bodies removed.

A rack of clean uniforms is brought in. The morticians

begin dressing the corpses and applying make-up on the dry
gray skin.

New white military caskets are trundled in. Gold handles

lifted. The bodies, clothed and painted now, are deposited
on the silk linings. The lids of the coffins come down and
cellophane bags containing folded flags are taped on top.

303 - 309 OMIT 303 - 309 OMIT

310 EXT. ARMY HOSPITAL - NIGHT

310

The white caskets are taken to a loading dock, put in a

military truck. Papers are signed, copies exchanged. As
the truck drives off -
311 INT. ARMY HOSPITAL - NIGHT
311
 Two black privates on janitorial duty come into the room
where the original plain wooden coffins have been discarded.
They remove the lids, then the finely-crafted false bottoms,
revealing in 4-inch cavities of each, tightly-packed bricks
of Double UO Globe heroin. As they take them out, a gospel
choir begins and continues over:

312 EXT. ARMY HOSPITAL - MORNING

312

A laundry truck idles. Stevie, the Lucas nephew who could

have played for Yankees, jumps down, helps the two privates
toss several laundry bags into the back of the truck.

113.

A313 EXT. BAPTIST CHURCH - MORNING

A313

A minister on the steps welcomes the congregation which

includes Frank, his mother, and Ana -

313 EXT. PERIMETER OF THE ARMY BASE - MORNING

313

The laundry truck comes past a guard gate, leaves the base,
drives past a stand of trees. As it passes, Richie, parked
by his detectives' cars, recognizes the young driver - who's
wearing the same Yankee baseball cap in his T.O. photo.

As Richie and his detectives climb into their cars, two

Lucas cars fold in behind the laundry truck. The detectives
follow at a distance -

A314 OMIT A314

OMIT

314 INT. BAPTIST CHURCH - MORNING

314

The sea of ladies' hats from above move in time with the
gospel choir. As always, no matter what else is going on in
his complicated life, Frank sits with his mother and Ana in
their usual pew. The gospel music continues over:

A315 EXT. BAPTIST CHURCH - MORNING

A315

Frank emerges from the church, kisses his mother and Ana and
put them in a car with a driver. He climbs into Doc's
alone. His mother watches, wondering perhaps if he intends
 to go kill Trupo after all. As Doc's car leaves, so does
another.

315 - 318 OMIT 315 - 318

OMIT
319 INT/EXT. RICHIE'S CAR - MOVING - NEAR GW BRIDGE - MORNING19
3

The laundry truck approaches a ramp leading to the George

Washington Bridge. Richie, a couple of car lengths behind,
follows. The truck continues straight.

320 OMIT 320

OMIT

321 EXT. NEWARK - MORNING

321

From overhead, the laundry truck, the gun car and the van -
and the detectives' cars following them all - converge from
different directions -

114.

322 EXT. NEWARK - NEAR STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING 322

Red Top's van makes a turn. As Abruzzo's makes the same

turn behind it, the infamous Stephen Crane Projects rise up
in his windshield.

His foot comes off the gas. As the gun car passes, he
sees Jones's car slow. Teddy's car approaches from another
direction into the Projects, and Abruzzo sees Spearman pull
over. Then the laundry truck turns in, and Richie's slows
to a stop, like Abruzzo's, outside the grounds of the
foreboding towers. The gospel music ends.

A323 EXT. CEMETERY - MORNING A323

Doc waits in the car while Frank buys some flowers at a

cemetery flower stand. The surveillance car cruises past.

323 INT. TOBACK'S HOUSE - MORNING 323

Toback, in his bathrobe, glass of milk in one hand, phone in

the other ...

TOBACK
Where is it?

RICHIE V/O
Somewhere in the South tower.
 TOBACK
You know that it's there. You're sure.

RICHIE V/O
Positive.
324 EXT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - SAME TIME 324

Richie, on a pay phone across down the street from the

Projects, looks up at the dark South tower.

RICHIE
Lou. We're ready to go in there
knowing there's a good chance we won't
all come out. That's what we're willing
to do. All I'm asking you to do get me a
warrant.

Silence on the other end of the line ...

RICHIE
We don't have a lot of time to fuck
around -

(CONT
)

115
.

324 CONTINUED:
324

TOBACK V/O
I'll call in the warrant. And some
backup. Don't go in before either gets
there.

This call disconnects.

325 INT. APARTMENT, THE PROJECTS - MORNING

325

The girls spread and tape plastic sheeting to tabletops,

then begin changing for work, which means undressing.

326 EXT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING

326

Richie and his guys wait for the warrant by their cars.

JONES
How long we gonna wait for it?

327 INT. APARTMENT, THE PROJECTS - MORNING

327

Pharmaceutical scales balance to their counterweights as

the five naked, masked women cut the heroin with quinine to
Frank's exacting standards. Red Top puts on some coffee.

328 EXT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING

328

Richie stares down the street, waiting for whatever it is

they're waiting for. Spearman looks at his watch.

RICHIE
It'll be here.

329 INT. APARTMENT, THE PROJECTS - MORNING

329
A paper-cutter blade slices a sheet of blue cellophane.
The girls at the tables, with the expertise of Cuban cigar
makers, wrap pieces of the cellophane like tobacco leaves
around precisely-measured 1/4-ounce drifts of Black Magic.

A330 EXT. CEMETERY - MORNING

A330

Frank's car winds up the road of the cemetery. The

surveillance car comes through the main gate and parks.

330 EXT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING

330

Several black and white and undercover cars approach,

sirens off. Toback himself climbs out of one of the cars
and hands Richie the search warrant.

116.

331 EXT. STEPHEN CRANE PROJECTS - MORNING 331

The tall buildings cast long shadows of dread on every

activity below, no matter how routine: A woman pushing a
stroller, guys shooting hoops, a couple arguing, kids on
bikes, old men resting on a graffiti-covered bench.

The unmarked cars drive slowly through it all. The place

teeters on the brink of violence you can feel as gangs move
under the shadow of the towers.

332 INT. GROUND FLOOR, SOUTH TOWER, THE PROJECTS - DAY 332

Richie removes the cover plate of an elevator, cuts the

wires, disengaging it, then leads the Amigos, followed by
 more detectives to a stairwell. The place is like Beirut.
Debris-strewn, graffiti-covered.

A333 EXT. CEMETERY - CONTINUED - DAY A333

Frank walks past graves to Bumpy's. Replaces some dried

flowers with fresh ones. Looks around for something to sit
on. Sees some wooden folding chairs around a fresher grave
nearby. Doc waits by the car in the distance.

333 INT. STAIRWELL - FLOORS - SOUTH TOWER - DAY 333

Floor by floor, they work their way up the tower like

commandos, the squalor and decay and hopelessness somehow
intensifying the higher up they go.

Reaching the 17th floor, they listen to a strange sound

before easing the fire door open enough to see a kid on a
Big Wheels pedalling straight at them. He passes and the
sound fades.

334 INT. 17TH FLOOR HALLWAY - DAY 334

Half the apartment doors are gone. TVs and radios echo,
voices argue, infants wail. The detectives come around a
corner and see at the end of it: a couple of guys with a
sawed-off shotguns sitting outside a closed door.

They step back. Consider one other. Spearman volunteers

with a nod, continues on alone as the others wait. He walks
up to the guys with the guns.

SPEARMAN
I got to talk to Teddy.

GUY WITH GUN

Get the fuck out of here.

(CONT)

117.

334 CONTINUED: 334

SPEARMAN
What the fuck is that? I got business
with Teddy and it's none of your fuckin
business except to knock on the fuckin
door and get him.

As the guy stands, pumping the shotgun, Spearman yanks it

hard against his throat like a garrote, forcing him to the
floor. The shotgun explodes, showering plaster and pellets.
Jones and Abruzzo are instantly all over the other guy as
Richie swings the sledgehammer into the door -
335 INT. APARTMENT, THE PROJECTS - CONTINUOUS 335

The door splinters - the room already in chaos - Teddy,

panicked, runs for the bedroom - the detectives crash in
yelling at the girls to get down - a shot from somewhere
inside wings Abruzzo - Jones and Spearman firing back -
crawling across the floor like an infantrymen -

Richie comes into the darkened bedroom leading with his

pistol. But Teddy's gone. He sees a tapestry of a tiger on
a wall. Pulls at it, finds a big hole knocked into another
dark apartment, climbs through, sees an open door -

336 INT. THE PROJECTS BUILDING - CONTINUOUS 336

As Richie rushes out to the hallway he can hear footfalls

echoing in the stairwell. He starts down, taking the stairs
five at a time, chases Teddy down two flights -

Teddy yanks open a door, runs down a corridor, bangs into

an apartment. Richie reaches the apartment just as Teddy is
goes out onto an exterior balcony -
Richie continues along the interior corridor, running
parallel to Teddy on the balcony, who trips over some debris
and garbage, looking over his shoulder for Richie -

Richie cuts through another apartment to head him off, but

the door to the balcony is nailed shut. So are the windows.
Richie looks around, grabs a small portable television and,
just as Teddy runs past, hurls it through a window at him,
hitting him in the head.

He falls hard, dazed. Richie hurries through the broken

window. Teddy comes to and fights back, until Richie breaks
his femur with his bare hands. Teddy howls in excruciating
pain -

337 INT/EXT. DRY CLEANERS - DAY 337

Police cars outside. Eugene Lucas is cuffed and led away.

118.

338 EXT. METAL DOOR SHOP - DAY

338

More police outside Lester's place. They cuff him.

339 EXT. TIRE SERVICE SHOP - DAY

339
 New Jersey troopers cuff Turner Lucas and lead him away.

340 EXT. ELECTRICAL SHOP - DAY

340

Cuffed, Earl Lucas is put in the back of a patrol car.

341 EXT. CEMETERY - CONTINUED - DAY

341

Frank, on a wooden folding chair at Bumpy's grave, hears

the gunning of engines and barking of cops. He turns to see
Doc being handcuffed on the ground by the Towncar. Glances
to a lone figure walking toward him over a rise. Richie.

Richie arrives at the grave. Regards the monument to

Ellsworth Johnson, and Frank sitting calmly regarding him.
Richie glances around the peaceful surroundings ...

RICHIE
What kind of trees are these?

Frank looks at the trees, then at Richie, with equal

serenity.

FRANK
You think you got Frank Lucas. You
got nothing.

A342 INT. RICHIE'S APARTMENT - DAY

A342
Richie cuts the tags off a new, inexpensive suit. Slips
the jacket on, which seemed somehow to fit a little better
at the store. Cuts the tags off a tie.

B342 INT. COURTHOUSE MENS ROOM - DAY

B342

Someone throwing up in a stall. The toilet flushes, the

door opens and Richie steps up to a sink, regards his face
in the mirror. Under the fluorescent lights - maybe under
any kind - his skin is a shade of death. He splashes water
on it and tries to gather himself.

342 INT. COURTROOM - DAY

342

At the prosecutors table, Richie steals glances at the

battery of expensive attorneys over at the defense table.

(CON
T)

119.
342 CONTINUED: 342

The courtroom doors swing open and Richie sees Frank Lucas,
in a tailored suit, escorted in without cuffs by an amiable-
looking federal marshal.

As Frank moves through the gallery, Richie sees it's full of

the gangster's friends, many of them celebrities, who smile
and greet and fawn as if the Pope has arrived.

Richie has evidence tables covered with cash, weapons,

stocks, bonds, property deeds, pictures of Frank's holdings,
heroin in blue cellophane.

Frank has celebrities, community leaders, Joe Louis himself

who will testify to Frank's benevolent character. The Champ
hugs the heroin trafficker warmly in front of everyone and
Richie wonders if he should just give up now.

Richie sees it in slow motion: the hands reaching out to

Frank, the pats on his back, lipsticked mouths of beautiful
women offering kisses and words of encouragement, his old
mother giving him a hug.

He watches Frank's head turn slowly, his eyes passing his

phalanx of attorneys, the jury, finally settling on Richie
in his cheap suit seated at the prosecutors table.

Frank's eyes smile as they regard Richie, and seem to ask,

Can you see this - can you see what you're up against - can
you see how insignificant you are?

Reaching the end of the welcoming line finally, Frank

brushes by Richie and disappears from view somewhere within
the protective husk of his multi-million-dollar legal team.
JUDGE
Mr. Roberts -

Richie slowly lifts himself from his chair, steps forward,

turns to look at the jury that's studying him, finally finds
his voice:

RICHIE
Thank you, your Honor. Ladies and
gentlemen -

343 INT. COUNTY JAIL - INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY 343

Wire mesh separates Frank from his battalion of lawyers.

He glances over them to Richie being led through the large
Visiting Room.

FRANK
Here he is, let me talk to him alone.
(CON
T)

1
20.

343 CONTINUED:
343

The attorneys get up and leave. Richie takes their place.

Frank regards him a moment, offering the same knowing smile
from the courtroom. Richie offers nothing.

FRANK
I just heard something. I said it
couldn't be true. You didn't really
turn in a million dollars you found
in the trunk of a car, did you?

Richie doesn't say. Frank searches his face for some clue
to where on earth he's from.

FRANK
Want me to tell you what happened to
it? It ended up in cops' pockets.

RICHIE
Maybe.

FRANK
Maybe? No. It did. All you did was
give it to them for nothing in return.
Not nothing: You got their contempt.

Frank studies him.

FRANK
Why'd you do that? What're you trying
to prove, you're better than them? You're
not better than them. You are them.

RICHIE
I don't have the time or interest to
listen to (this) -

FRANK
You did it because it was right.
That's all. Why's that hard to say?
The question is would you do it again?
That was a long time ago. It'd be very
easy to find out. Tell me you want to
find out, tell me the address, and a car
will be there, the trunk loaded.

Richie knows Frank isn't kidding ...

 RICHIE
No, thanks.

Frank suddenly explodes -

(
CONT)

121
.

343 CONTINUED:
343

FRANK
Who the fuck are you to say no to
that? You think that impresses me?

Guards look over, then glance away once it's clear the
outburst is through. Richie remains serene. Eventually -

FRANK
Let me ask you something. You think by
putting me in jail, you're going to stop
even one junkie from dying? Because you
won't. If it isn't me, it'll be someone
else. With me or without me, nothing's
going to change.

RICHIE
Then that's the way it is.

FRANK
You have any sort of case? Or just
that idiot drives for my brother. Is he
your case? Because if it's just him and
the powder, it's not enough.

RICHIE
Then you got nothing to worry about.

But Frank is worried, most of all by this cop who doesn't

take money sitting placidly in front of him.

FRANK
My brothers won't talk to you. My
cousins. None of my family. No one but
that mother fucking driver.
RICHIE
I got more than that. I got a line of
people wanting to testify that stretches
out the door and around the block.

FRANK
 Bullshit.

RICHIE
Is it? Tony the Bug. Benny Two-Socks.
Carmine Camanetti.

FRANK
Who the fuck are they? I don't know
them and they don't know me.

(CO
NT)

122.

343 CONTINUED: 343

RICHIE
They sell dope for the Mazzano crime
family. Which you all but put out of
business.

FRANK
This is who you're going to put on the
stand? Guys who don't know me? Who got
nothing to do with me?

RICHIE
They have everything to do with you.
And the only thing they hate more than
you is what you represent.

FRANK
I don't represent nothing.

RICHIE
You don't? Black businessman like you?
Of course you do. But once you're gone,
things can return to normal.

FRANK
Look at me. You looking? Can you tell
by looking it would mean nothing to me if
tomorrow you turned up dead?

RICHIE
Get in line. That one stretches around
the block, too.

Frank has never been so frustrated by anyone in his life.

He wants to work something out with Richie obviously, but he
can't figure out how. Frank studies him.
 FRANK
What can we do?

RICHIE
You know what you have to do.

Frank does, but doesn't like it, and doesn't know if he can
do it.

FRANK
I could give you cops, but that's not
who you want, is it. You want organized
crime names.

RICHIE
I'll take them, too. I want them all.

(CON
T)

123.

343 CONTINUED: 343

Frank isn't sure he heard right.

FRANK
You'll take them, too? You'd go after
cops? Are you serious? You'd do that?
Lock up your own kind?

RICHIE
They're not. Not the ones in business
with you. They're not my kind any more
than the Italians are yours.

They regard one another in silence. Richie can tell Frank

sees daylight.

FRANK
What can you promise me?

RICHIE
I can promise you if you lie to me about
one name, you'll never get out of prison.
Lie about one dollar in one offshore
account, you'll never get out. You can
live rich in jail the rest of your life,
or poor outside it, that's what I can
promise.

Frank is silent for several moments. Finally -

FRANK
You know, I don't care if the feds take
 all my buildings, my stocks, my off-shore
accounts. They can take it all, I don't
care - use it to build battleships, paint
bridges, whatever the fuck they want.
Fight another war. But those other
motherfuckers - the cops - put my money
in their pockets. Millions.

RICHIE
I believe it.

Frank debates with himself the step he's about to take ...

RICHIE
I want to know everyone you've met for
the last twenty years. Everyone you sold
to. Every cop you ever paid off. Every
one who ever stole from you. Every one
you remember.

(CON
T)

124.

343 CONTINUED: 343

FRANK
Oh, I remember them all. That's not the
problem.

RICHIE
What is?

FRANK
The jail's aren't big enough.

344 INT. COUNTY JAIL CELL / STREETS OF NEW YORK - DAY 344

Surveillance photographs of cops seen earlier taking

envelopes of money on 116th Street and other drops go up
on a new, elaborate Table of Organization - of cops.

345 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY 345

Richie dismantles the Lucas Table of Organization here,

taking down the photographs. As it collapses -

346 INT. COUNTY JAIL CELL - CONTINUED 346

Frank puts up photographs of detectives -

347 QUICK CUTS of the same detectives, in handcuffs, led through

 347
police stations past other cops watching with dread like
maybe they're next -

A surveillance photograph of the four Princes of the City

striding down a sidewalk goes up on the cell wall -

348 FLASHCUT as three of the four SIU cops are led away in cuffs
348
from a golf course -
349 A surveillance photograph of Trupo in a black hand - 349

FRANK
You go up here. Your "special."

As Frank tapes the picture of Trupo at the top of the

pyramid of corruption -

350 INT/EXT. TRUPO'S GARAGE - MORNING 350

Trupo, coffee in hand, comes into his garage from his

kitchen. Opens the garage door and sees two squad cars
parked outside ...

351 A TV: A report on the indictments handed down by the 351

Manhattan DA's office against 53 NYPD and SIU detectives -

125.

352 INT. PRISON CELL - DAY (YEARS LATER) 352

Frank gathers his few personal belongings and puts them in

a box. Stands with the box and waits for the cell door to
open. The Table of Organization and files are gone.

Legend: Frank Lucas was convicted of Conspiracy to

Distribute Narcotics and sentenced to 70 years.
He served 15 of them.

Legend: Federal authorities confiscated over 250 million

dollars from him in real estate, equities and cash
in US and foreign banks.

353 INT. NARCOTICS SQUAD HQ - NEWARK - DAY 353

Richie, too, is packing, putting personal items into boxes.

Legend: The day after he convicted Frank Lucas and 30 of

his Country Boy relatives, Richard Roberts borrowed
$400 from his credit union to help pay for a 3-day
vacation to the Bahamas.
 Richie, carrying the box, switches off the lights and closes
the door behind him on his way out.

Legend: Six months later, he quit the Prosecutors Office

to become a defense attorney. His first client was
Frank Lucas.

354 EXT. PRISON - DAY (1990) 354

Frank steps out into sunlight, free but owning nothing but
the cardboard box in his arms. Looks out across the parking
lot to see if anyone has come to pick him up. Sees Richie
by his car, hand raised above his head like a flag.

355 EXT. 116TH STREET, HARLEM - DAY 355

The two of them stand outside Richie's car on the same

corner Frank shot Tango. Frank looks up at the street signs
that used to say 116th Street and 8th Avenue. Now they say
116th Street and Frederick Douglass Boulevard.

FRANK
Frederick Douglass Boulevard? What was
wrong with just plain 8th Avenue?

He considers the street itself. It too has changed. The

corner groceries, as Bumpy prophesied, really are gone now.

(CONT)

126
.

355 CONTINUED:
355

FRANK
I used to sit here with Ana in my old
car. She hated it. Now I don't even
have a car. Or her.

Frank glances to where his favorite diner used to be, and

across the street to where he shot Tango. It isn't a fruit
stand any more.

FRANK
Just do what?

RICHIE
What?

FRANK
The fuck is that? Just do what?
 It's a Nike store with huge paintings of Michael Jordan and
the admonition "Just Do It."

RICHIE
Sneakers. Expensive ones.

FRANK
Who the fuck would buy those?

A car equipped with sub-woofer bass comes booming past.

Frank stares at it with the same pained look Bumpy had at
the discount emporium.

RICHIE
Your brothers know you're out?
FRANK
I haven't talked to them in years. It's
better that way. For them. I don't know
where they are. Went back to Greensboro
when they got out, I guess.

Richie nods. Frank looks back at the new storefronts.

FRANK
What am I going to do now, be a janitor?
What do I know how to do? How am I going
to live?

RICHIE
I told you I wouldn't let you starve.

FRANK
You told me but you can barely take care
of yourself.
(MORE)
(CO
NT)

127
.

355 CONTINUED:
355
FRANK (CONT'D)
(glances to a pay phone on
the corner)
You know, one phone call, Richie, I could
be back in business.

The look Richie gives him calmly assures Frank if he did

that it'd be the last phone he made outside prison - ever.

FRANK
I won't. I'm just saying I could.
He buttons the cuffs of the fake Members Only windbreaker
Richie bought him off the street.

FRANK
Thanks for the clothes.

RICHIE
You're welcome.

Frank glances away to three young hoods coming toward them

like they own the sidewalk and everything around it - baggy
pants, bandanas tied around their heads.

FRANK
Uh-oh. Look out. Here come the
gangsters.

Frank's right in their path but doesn't move, forcing one

of them to squeeze between him and a parking meter. The
gangsta looks back, is about to say something, or do
something, but, examining the expression of quiet menace on
Frank's face, thinks better of it. The others stop.

GANGSTA 2
What.

The first one is still staring at Frank, but finally has the
good sense to let it go.

GANGSTA 1
Nothing.

They move on. Frank glances to Richie.

FRANK
Every idiot gets to be young once.

Frank zips up his Members Only jacket, props up the collar

and points himself in the other direction.

FRANK
Let's get out of here.

American Gangster

Writers : Steven Zaillian Mark Jacobson

Genres : Crime Drama

User Comments
BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK:

BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK

Written by

Don McGuire and Millard Kaufman

Based on the story

"Bad Day At Hondo"

 by Howard Breslin

SHOOTING
DRAFT

FADE IN BEFORE MAIN TITLE

BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK

ESTABLISHING SHOT - BLACK ROCK - PART OF TOWN: FOCAL

POINT:
RAILROAD STATION

abandoned, in an extreme state of dilapidation. The

structure
is blistered by the resolute sun, the roof is weather-
warped.
Dry rot and mildew wage a relentless battle against the
foundation. Between the building and the tracks is a
long,
somewhat narrow platform, its floorboards twisted by
time,
termites and the elements. The match-board overhang of
the
building, throwing some little shade to a portion of the
platform, sags and bellies. From the overhang is appended
a
rectangular panel on which, in flaky paint, the town is
identified:

BLACK ROCK

One of the broken wires holding the panel is longer than

the
other, cocking the sign irregularly.

The railroad tracks reach endlessly into the horizon.

Past
the town on each side stretches the ocean-like prairie,
with
sand dunes rising and falling monotonously, shouldering
each
other toward infinity. The morning sun lays over this
wasteland of the American Southwest, a gigantic yellow
bruise
from which heat waves like bloodshot arteries spread
themselves over the poisoned sky.

A small shack stands next to the station, separated from

it
by a narrow alleyway and leaning toward the larger
building,
as if for support. The words POSTAL TELEGRAPH are arced
across
its dusty vitrine. An old straight-backed chair,
reinforced
with twisted wire, is tilted against the north-west
corner
of the shack. In it is Mr. Hastings, the postal telegraph
agent, a man of middle years and exorbitant mediocrity.
He
sits there spinelessly, fingering a wart on his receding
chin and, once in a while, for variety, rubbing a knuckle
under his watery nose.

FULL SHOT - BLACK ROCK

The town is minute, dismal and forgotten, crouching in

isolation where the single line of railroad track
intersects
a secondary dirt road. The twin strips of steel glisten
in
the fierce sunlight, fencing the dreary plain from the
false
fronts of the town. In b.g. is the bluff of a black stony
mountain. Against this ancient mass the houses of Black
Rock's
single street*** (See map, P.2A) are scanty in number and
insignificant in architecture, a conglomerate paint-
peeled
modern trussed together with rusty nails and battered tin
strips torn from signs.

The town and the terrain surrounding it have, if nothing

else, the quality of inertia and immutibility -- nothing
moves, not even an insect; nothing breathes, not even the
wind. Town and terrain seem to be trapped, caught and
held
forever in the sullen, abrasive earth.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

STRAIGHT SHOT - STREAMLINER

jarring in its power as it ramrods across the desert, its

diesel engines pounding. Its horn "WONKS" twice, blasting
the shatterable air.

FULL SHOT - BLACK ROCK - ANOTHER ANGLE

Nothing is changed, nothing is altered. But look close

and
you will see a small shallow current of wind sweeping
lazily
across the dirt and dust of the single street. HOLD for a
 beat, then MAIN TITLE appears. Between the ensuing
credits
INTERCUT a series of sharp LONG SHOTS. The composition of
each shot has that hard, sun-beaten texture of American
primitive painting -- pressurized in its simplicity --
best
exemplified, perhaps, by the work of Grant Wood.

EXT. SAM'S SANITARY BAR AND GRILL - ANGLE ON DOC VELIE

assayer and notary public, mortician to the citizens of

Black
Rock who have departed to a better place, and
veterinarian
to its lesser animals. An elderly, somewhat untidy
gentleman,
he sits nonchalantly on a chair outside the Bar & Grill.
Idling with him are three or four other loafers, among
them
Sam, the middle-aged proprietor of the restaurant. Doc
glances
casually at his watch; no one else moves. The hot wind
continues listlessly down the empty street.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

EXT. GARAGE - LIZ BROOKS

A tall, attractive girl of twenty in dungarees and cotton

shirt. She stands just outside the open barn-like door of
the garage, staring, from the compulsive force of habit,
at
the endlessly receding tracks. The sultry wind, its
gustiness
slightly increased, blows through her fine dark hair.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL - COLEY TRIMBLE AND HECTOR DAVID

two enormous men. HECTOR is tall, and there is about him

a
nasty, raw-boned tautness; COLEY is more the anthropoid
type --
long thick arms and a round, iron casing of a belly. They
glance down the street, watching incuriously a dust devil
swirling in the wind.

Now the CAMERA has completed its probe of the town and
its
denizens. MAIN TITLE and CREDITS are completed...
 CLOSE SHOT - MR. HASTINGS

still spineless in his chair, the chair still tilted

against
the shack. From o.s. and far away, we hear the horn of
the
streamliner -- two long "WONKS", a short and a long
(engine
whistle signal for approach to bridge crossing). Hastings
straightens up ever so slightly as he reacts to the
oncoming
train.

STRAIGHT SHOT - STREAMLINER

moving at tremendous speed.

BRIDGE

with train barrelling toward it. The horn BLASTS -- three

short WONKS (engine whistle signal for stopping at next
station).

CLOSE SHOT - HASTINGS

getting jerkily to his feet, as though charged by a

galvanic
current. The uncharacteristic speed of his movements
throws
the tilted chair to the station platform. He raises an
arm
to shield his watery eyes from the sun...

HASTINGS
(almost inaudible, as
if to himself)
Stopping...?

SHOT - TRAIN

heading toward CAMERA, churning across the desert like a

juggernaut. It PANS past CAMERA in a blur of speed.
CAMERA
SWINGS UP on a level with the great iron wheels as the
brakes
are applied. The wheels shriek agonizingly against the
rails,
kicking up cinders and a wild flurry of dust. She cuts
speed,
brakes hissing, and starts to slow down.

LONG SHOT MAIN STREET - BLACK ROCK

SHOOTING from rear of town, toward the railroad tracks.

The
townspeople step out, frowning, cautious, disturbed. The
 secure ritual of the train passing through, never
stopping,
has somehow, for some unknown reason, been violated.

CLOSE SHOT - DOC VELIE

as his mouth tightens. His air of placidity vanishes,

leaving
his features disturbed.

CLOSE SHOT - LIZ BROOKS

Her fine young face stiffens almost imperceptibly. Her

eyes
are coated with a vague emptiness. She seems confused as
she
halfturns toward the hotel.

REVERSE SHOT - WHAT SHE SEES

Coley Trimble and Hector David, standing on the porch of

the
hotel. They seem tense, responding variously to what
might
be fear. Coley's nostrils flare, his flat ugly mouth
compresses. He looks profoundly serious. Hector wipes a
glob
of dusty sweat from the socket of an eye and blinks
rapidly.

CLOSE SHOT - HASTINGS

as he stands in surprise, nervously alert, watching the

train
as it comes to a complete stop. His jaw droops with the
slackness of fear.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

EXT. STATION PLATFORM

with the train stationary before it. A sleek steel door

of a
pullman clangs open. A colored porter carrying a suitcase
walks down the wrought-iron steps. He is stately, gray-
haired
and lean, with the almost finical tidiness travelers
associate
with trainmen. The man behind him is big-shouldered, a
granite-
like wedge of a man with calm, piercing eyes. There is
about
him an air of monumental dependability and quiet humor,
but
 his eyes are those of a man who has lately lived in
somber
familiarity with pain. His left arm hangs from his
shoulder
with that lifeless rigidity of paralysis, while the hand
is
hidden in his pocket.

ANOTHER ANGLE - MACREEDY AND PORTER

The porter puts the suitcase on the platform. In the

distance
the town and its people are seen staring silently,
motionlessly. The big man glances toward them. He smiles
a
sad, distasteful greeting to the town, its wretched dust.
its mean, modest buildings. The porter disappears into
the
train as the conductor enters scene. He turns slowly,
following Macreedy's gaze...

CONDUCTOR
(softly, staring at
the towns people)
Man. They look woebegone and far
away.

MACREEDY
(looking around)
I'll only be here twenty-four hours.

CONDUCTOR
In a place like this, it could be a
lifetime.
(turning to face
Macreedy)
Good luck, Mr. Macreedy.

Macreedy nods his thanks. The conductor signals the

engineer
(o.s.) and steps on the train. The diesel's claxon blasts
the torrid air ominously. The train slowly, smoothly,
begins
to move, picking up speed. The cars slip past until,
quite
suddenly, the Streamliner is gone. For a moment Macreedy
watches it. Then, quite unconsciously, he takes a package
of
cigarettes from his left hand pocket, taps the last one
free
of the pack, sticks it between his lips and, crumpling
the
empty pack, drops it beside the tracks. He takes a
cardboard
book of matches, flicks it open, bends a match in half
with
 agile fingers, and with a sure frictional motion scrapes
the
head against the sandpaper guard. The match flares, the
cigarette is lit. Macreedy inhales, exhales deeply, and
turns
to pick up his suitcase. Then he sees Hastings, who walks
slowly, almost painfully, to him. His Adam's apple
grapples
protestingly with his collar. After a moment he controls
it
sufficiently to talk...

HASTINGS
You for Black Rock?

MACREEDY
(easily)
That's right.

HASTINGS
(uneasily)
There must be some mistake. I'm
Hastings, the telegraph agent. Nobody
told me the train was stopping.

MACREEDY
(with a ghost of a
grin)
They didn't?

HASTINGS
(upset)
I just said they didn't, and they
ought to. What I -- want to know,
why didn't they?

MACREEDY
(shrugging)
Probably didn't think it was
important.

HASTINGS
Important?! It's the first time the
streamliner stopped here in four
years.
(swallowing nervously)
You being met? You visiting folks or
something? I mean, whatd'ya want?

MACREEDY
I want to go to Adobe Flat. Any cabs
available?

HASTINGS
(as if he hadn't heard
right; as if he wanted
 everyone in town to
know)
Adobe Flat?!
(he gulps, recovers
slightly)
No cabs.

MACREEDY
Where's the hotel?

Hastings looks at him blankly. The thousand-yard stare of

a
hypnotic glazes his features.

MACREEDY
(patiently)
I asked where's the hotel?

Hastings points.

MACREEDY
Thanks.

With his suitcase, he cuts across a weedy path, running

into
Black Rock's single street. For a moment, Hastings stares
after him; then he breaks hurriedly, entering telegraph
agent's shack.

INT. POSTAL TELEGRAPH OFFICE

as Hastings, fumbling, picks up the phone...

HASTINGS
(into mouthpiece)
Hello, Pete? Now, listen...

REVERSE SHOT - MAIN STREET - BLACK ROCK

SHOOTING down the street as Macreedy slowly walks toward

the
hotel. Not a person has moved, each eye is glued on the
stranger.

The hollow rasp of Macreedy's tread on the wooden

platform
of the "pavement" seems shatteringly loud in the
enveloping
silence...

CLOSE SHOT - LIZ

as she follows the man's movement.

OUT
 Sequence omitted from original script.

CLOSE ANGLE - ON MACREEDY

as he walks along. He feels the eyes of everyone

following
him, glaring at him. He halts, looks around. The
townspeople
continue to eye him brazenly, yet with an almost animal
incuriosity. He grins and walks on past a cluster of five
or
six RFD mail boxes and a road sign [1], its paint
peeling,
its face punctured by three or four bullets from a
drunk's
pistol long ago.

SHOT - MACREEDY

heading toward the hotel. In b.g. is a relatively small

farm
equipment yard compressed between a general store (which
Macreedy has just passed) and the hotel just ahead. In
the
yard are a few tractors, and among them huddles a tiny
office.
It is empty; the front window is thick with dust. On it,
etched by an anonymous, childish finger, is a skull and
crossbones. Running diagonally across is the printed
legend:

T.J. HATES J.S.

Macreedy notes the inscription with a sort of wry

bemusement.
He walks on, reaching the facade of the weather-beaten
hotel.
A gust of wind swirls down the street, momentarily
engulfing
Macreedy and the entire area in a sudden eddying
whirlpool.
As it subsides...

ANOTHER ANGLE - MACREEDY

As he peers through the dust toward the dingy hotel. It

has
a narrow stoop and outsize bay windows on each side.
Macreedy
mounts the hotel steps. At the top of the steps Coley
Trimble
and Hector David watch him silently. Hector is large and
leanly muscular, yet Coley looms over him like a
battleship.
He is a gross behemoth of a man, with sharp flinty eyes
the
 size of glistening pinpoints and a slack, oversized jaw.
Both men wear modern Western work clothes, but there is
one
incongruous accessory which Hector affects. Around his
thick
wrist is a watch with a large flat face and an
elaborately
tooled leather strap -- a cheap reproduction of one of
those
expensive Swiss timepieces which, among many
distinguished
accomplishments, tells the day of the week, the month of
the
year, the phase of the moon, etc., etc.

MACREEDY
(slowing up)
'Afternoon.

No reaction from Hector.

COLEY
(blocking doorway)
Anything I can do for you?

MACREEDY
You run this hotel?

COLEY
No.

MACREEDY
(pleasantly)
Then there's nothing you can do for
me.

He brushes past Coley and enters.

HECTOR
(turning to Coley)
Find Smith!

Coley nods and heads down the street. Hector enters the
hotel.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

INT. HOTEL

It is a typical small town hotel, but crummier, with a

tiny
lobby. Macreedy is waiting at the empty desk as Hector
strolls
in, flopping his enormous bulk into a nicked and mothy
chair.
He picks up a newspaper, but his eyes remain on Macreedy.
Macreedy waits patiently for the absent clerk. For a
moment,
he studies the open registration ledger; his eyes rove
from
the ink-splotched blotter up over the desk to one of
those
World War II banners, the imitation silk now stained and
faded. It depicts a shrieking eagle rampant, clutching
The
Flag in a claw. Under it, the legend:

"GOD BLESS AMERICA"

Near it, a tacky placard proclaims:

DO ALL THE GOOD YOU CAN,

BY ALL THE MEANS YOU CAN,
IN ALL THE WAYS YOU CAN,
AT ALL THE TIMES YOU CAN,
TO ALL THE PEOPLE YOU CAN,
AS LONG AS EVER YOU CAN.

Feeling the eyes of Hector on him, Macreedy turns. Hector

meets his gaze with bland, insolent interest. Now a young
man (his name is PETE) comes out of a small room behind
the
registration desk and walks up to it. There is a softness
about his regular features, a certain indefinable
sugariness
about his mouth. He seems tight-lipped, for lorn and
uneasy
as he faces Macreedy across the counter.

MACREEDY
(pleasantly)
I'd like a room.

PETE
All filled up.

MACREEDY
(a beat)
Got any idea where I might --

PETE
(stiffly, shaking his
head)
This is 1945, mister. There's been a
war on.

Macreedy looks at the young man with impeccable

tolerance.
Without shifting his gaze, he slowly lets fall his small
suitcase. It thuds softly on the frayed carpet.
 MACREEDY
I thought it ended a couple of months
ago.

PETE
Yeah, but the O.P.A. lingers on.

Macreedy looks down at the open ledger on the desk before

him. The clerk reaches out to close it. Gently, yet
firmly,
Macreedy stops him, reopening the big book. He studies
it, a
finger straying unconsciously inside his collar. He [...]
on
it to relieve the starchy stiffness.

Pete begins to fidget...

PETE
You don't know about the O.P.A...

MACREEDY
(without looking up)
Tell me.

PETE
Well, for establishments with less'n
fifty rooms hotel keepers got to
report regularly about...

His voice fades desperately.

PETE
...about tenants and... and...
registration...
(drawing himself up)
There are penalties imposed...

Again his voice trails off.

MACREEDY
(eyes still on the
ledger)
You seem to have lots of vacancies.

PETE
(uncomfortable)
Well... as I said...

Macreedy leans over the counter to a rack of keys. He

runs
his splayed fingers over the key rack as...

MACREEDY
Lots of vacancies.
 PETE
They're everyone of 'em locked up.
Some are show rooms...

MACREEDY
Yes...?

PETE
(with touching
sincerity)
...for cattle buyers, feed salesmen.
The others -- they're spoken for,
rented to cowboys, ranch hands...
(Macreedy listens
respectfully)
They pay by the month. For when they
come into town. We provide for their
every wish and comfort.
(weakly)
You understand...?

MACREEDY
Not really. But while I'm pondering
it, get a room ready. Just for
tonight.
(picking key from
rack at random)
This one.

Pete opens his mouth but no sound comes out. [...] at

Hector.

CLOSE SHOT - HECTOR

glowering at Pete.

TWO SHOT - MACREEDY AND PETE

as Macreedy signs the ledger.

MACREEDY
(signing)
Sure could use a bath. Where is it?

He picks up the key.

PETE
Head of the stairs.

Macreedy nods, reaches for the bag at his feet. Then he

hesitates, looks at Hector.

MACREEDY
I don't know just why you're
interested -- but the name's Macreedy.
 I'm...
(grins)
It's all in the ledger.

HECTOR
(slowly, his eyes
glued to Macreedy's
stiff arm)
You look like you need a hand.

Macreedy says nothing. The wales along his face harden.

He
picks up his bag and climbs the stairs. As he disappears,
Hector lumbers to the desk and grabs the ledger.

HECTOR
(reading aloud)
John J. Macreedy. From Los Angeles.
(looking up)
I wanna know everything he does,
Pete. Check every call -- any mail.

PETE
(nodding)
And in the meantime...?

HECTOR
(grinning harshly)
In the meantime, I'll crowd him a
little...
(looking up the stairs)
...see if he's got any iron in his
blood...

As Pete bites his lower lip thoughtfully,

DISSOL
VE:

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

INT. BATHROOM - DAY - MACREEDY

in a new bathrobe, before a cracked, discolored mirror.

He
draws a safety razor down his face, completing his shave;
then he wipes a hand over the mirror, which clouds with
steam
almost as fast as he can clear it. o.s., the SOUND of
bath
water gurgling down the tub drain. He runs a tentative
finger
inside the collar of his robe, pulling loose a price tag.
He
 drops it carefully into a wastebasket. He turns on the
faucet
at the sink to rinse his shaving brush. The rusty pipes
cough
and rumble, roaring as a trickle of water arrives while
the
drain sucks loudly at its departure. He dries the razor,
turns off the faucet and exits.

INT. HOTEL CORRIDOR - ANGLE ON MACREEDY

As he walks down the dark, narrow hall. He wears the

bathrobe
and slippers; a large towel is draped over his head, like
a
prize fighter. He stops outside a door, pushes the towel
from his head to his neck and puts his hand on the knob.
He
is about to insert the key when he tenses. Slowly,
silently,
he turns the knob and throws open the door.

INT. HOTEL ROOM

Next to the door, in the corner of the small, sparsely

furnished room is Macreedy's suitcase, open, its contents
askew and scattered over the dusty floor. On the bed
sprawls
Hector David, his gigantic body straining the springs. He
lies on his back, hands clasped easily under his head,
thick
legs crossed, his Stetson tilted over his low forehead.
He
is completely unconcerned by Macreedy's entrance. For a
moment
Macreedy stares at him. Then...

MACREEDY
(slightly amused)
I think you have the wrong room.

HECTOR
(not budging)
You think so?

Slowly, his eyes still on Macreedy, Hector takes off his

elaborate wrist watch and slides it gently into his pants
pocket.

HECTOR
What else you got on your mind?

Macreedy pauses and takes in the situation. He refuses to

be
baited.
 MACREEDY
Nothing, I guess.

HECTOR
If you had a mind, boy, you'd of
heard what Pete downstairs said. He
said these here rooms are for us
cowboys. For our every wish and
comfort.

MACREEDY
And this, I guess, is yours?

HECTOR
When I'm in town. And I'm in town,
as any fool can see. You see that,
don't you, boy?

MACREEDY
I guess I do. Would you mind very
much if I sort of...
(he gestures toward
his suitcase and
clothing)
...clean up this mess and get another
room?

HECTOR
Not at all. But if you want this
room real bad...
(he raises his enormous
bulk to a sitting
position, rubbing
the knuckles of one
big fist with the
palm of his other
hand)
...we could maybe settle your claim
without all this talk.
(no answer from
Macreedy)
If a man don't claim what's rightfully
his'n, he's nuthin'. What do you
think?

MACREEDY
I guess so.

HECTOR
You guess so. But still you ain't
claimin' this room?

MACREEDY
I guess not.

HECTOR
 You're all the time guessin', boy.
Don't you ever know anything?

MACREEDY
One thing I know. Since I got off
the train, I've been needled. Why?

HECTOR
(after a beat, slowly)
I guess I don't rightly know.

For a moment their eyes lock. Then Macreedy goes to his

suitcase and throws his clothes in it. As he goes out the
door...

DISSOLVE
TO:

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - DAY - FULL SHOT - SAM AND THE LOAFERS

They sit around, each with his own thoughts. They are
generally stolid; only Sam seems nervous. He looks up
eagerly
as Doc Velie enters the lobby. As he joins Sam...

Sam walks light for a big man, Doc.

DOC
(straight)
Who?

SAM
(irritated)
You know who!
(Doc grins impishly;
Sam's anger subsides)
What do you think, Doc?

DOC
Why ask me? He's no salesman, that's
sure.
(again the impish
grin)
Unless he's peddling dynamite.

SAM
(squirming visibly)
Maybe he's a cop, or something...

DOC
Ever see a cop with a stiff arm?
 SAM
(squinting thoughtfully)
Maybe his arm's all right. Maybe
he's just holding tight to something
in his pocket...

DOC
(scoffing)
Like what? A pistol? A stick of T-N-
T?
(gleefully)
To blow up this whole mangy, miserable
town!
(with sudden, almost
naive, seriousness)
Why are you so interested, Sam?

SAM
Who, me?

DOC
I mean, if I was that interested...
(his eyes look up
toward the hotel
stairs o.s.)
...I'd ask him.

Sam follows Doc's gaze...

REVERSE SHOT - WHAT THEY SEE 35X1

Macreedy walks down the stairs. Pete looks up from the

desk.
He is about to dart behind the partition when...

MACREEDY
Hey! Hold it!

He walks to the desk, smiling at Pete. In b.g., Doc, Sam

and
the loafers watch.

MACREEDY
Got any cigarettes?

Pete studies him, then bends under the counter, coming up

with a pack. Doc leaves Sam and is slowly walking toward
the
stranger, eyeing him curiously.

PETE
This is all.

Macreedy throws the money on the desk and opens the pack,
dexterously using the fingers of his left hand.
 PETE
How long you staying?

MACREEDY
In my new room, you mean?
(flatly)
I'm staying.

PETE
I mean, in the hotel.

MACREEDY
Just about twenty-four hours.
(sharply)
Why?

PETE
(flustered)
I... I was just askin'.

MACREEDY
(evenly)
Why? You expecting a convention?

PETE
(doggedly)
I was just askin'.

Macreedy looks at him, inhales deeply on his cigarette

then,
as he slowly lets the smoke out, removes the cigarette
and
looks at it.

MACREEDY
Stale.

Now Doc is at the desk not far from Macreedy. Macreedy

starts
out, then turns to Pete.

MACREEDY
Where can I rent a car?

PETE
I don't know.

Macreedy smiles and sighs tiredly. Then...

MACREEDY
(as to a child)
Let's put it this way -- if I had a
car and if I wanted to put gas in
it, where would I go?

PETE
 (refusing to cooperate)
But you don't have a car.

DOC
(to Macreedy)
You might try the garage at the end
of the street.

Macreedy pauses, looking at Doc, who blandly returns his

stare.

MACREEDY
Thanks.

Doc nods. Macreedy smiles and walks toward the door;

Pete,
Doc et al watching him. He goes out.

EXT. STREET

As Macreedy walks down hotel steps, a station wagon pulls

up
just before him. Tied with a rope to the right front
fender
is a magnificent eight-point buck. A stain of dry blood
weaves
an uneven course down his glossy flank from an
unmistakable
bullet hole in his shoulder. Two men get out of the car;
one
of them is Coley Trimble. He sees Macreedy coming toward
him. He stands motionless in the center of the narrow
pavement, picking at his nose with the detachment of a
child.
The other man is broad and excessively masculine as he
swings
out from behind the wheel. He walks around the car,
joining
Coley at the curb. Macreedy comes on. The man with Coley
looks at the stranger with colossal indifference, as
expressionless as the soil of Black Rock. His handsome
face,
under a dusty hunting cap, is taut and hard and wind-
shaven.
Next to Coley he stands motionless, except for the wisp
of
smoke from a black Cuban cigarette between his thin lips.
In
b.g., the loafers who had been ensconced in the hotel
lobby
move out the door and stand on the porch. They watch
Macreedy,
Coley and Reno Smith, the handsome, taut-faced man.
Silence
soems to settle over everything. It is Macreedy who
breaks
 it...

MACREEDY
(grinning wearily at
Coley)
Here we go again.

Gently he walks around Coley and Reno Smith and continues

down the street. Coley's eyes follow him. Smith goes up
the
steps of the hotel and enters the lobby. Coley quickly
follows
him. The loafers on the porch go back inside.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY

The loafers resume their familiar places as Smith walks

briskly to the clerk's desk. Pete, in anticipation, opens
the hotel register, places it before Smith

PETE
(deferentially,
gesturing toward the
open register)
That's all I know about him, Mr.
Smith.

Smith doesn't answer; he looks up thoughtfully. His eyes

harden almost imperceptibly as he sees Coley, across the
narrow room, looking out the window after Macreedy.

SMITH
(to Coley's back)
Sit down.

COLEY
(spinning to face him)
I was only...

SMITH
(interrupting)
Sit down.

Coley sits in the nearest chair. Beyond Smith, still

resting
easily against the high counter of Pete's desk, the
gigantic
figure of Hector appears at the top of the stairs. He
comes
down and joins Smith.

HECTOR
(after a pause)
Pretty cool guy.

SMITH
 Doesn't push easy?

HECTOR
(frowning)
That's it -- that's just it. He pushes
too easy. Maybe we oughtta...

He hesitates as Doc Velie sidles amiably into earshot.

SMITH
What do you want, Doc?

DOC
Nothing.
(archly)
I was just wondering what all you
people were worrying about.
(Smith looks at him
coldly)
Not that I have the slightest idea.

SMITH
You wonder too much, and you talk
too much.
(pauses)
It's a bad parlay, Doc.

DOC
I hold no truck with silence.
(impishly)
I got nothing to hide.

HECTOR
(suddenly towering
over Doc)
What're you tryin' to say?

DOC
Nothing, man. It's just, you worry
about the stranger only if you look
at him...
(slowly)
...from a certain aspect.

SMITH
How do you look at him, Doc?

DOC
(firmly)
With the innocence of a fresh-laid
egg.

SMITH
(after a pause)
Keep it up, Doc. Be funny. Make bad
jokes.
 (he starts to walk
toward the window,
Doc and Hector
following him)
And some day I'll have Coley wash
out your mouth with lye.

Smith looks thoughtfully out the window.

REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES

Macreedy, down the end of the block, saunters easily up

to
Liz's garage.

EXT. LIZ'S GARAGE - FULL SHOT

The garage, without a door, opens on the street. Against

the
front of the building is parked a battered bicycle. On
one
of the barnlike walls a boy of nine is drawing
laboriously
with a piece of chalk. He puts the last flourish to a
skull
and crossbones identical with that seen earlier on the
window
of the equipment yard office. Macreedy stops a few feet
from
him, waiting until the boy prints "T.J.". As he steps
back
to admire his handiwork...

MACREEDY
Hi, T.J.

T.J. nods. He approaches the wall, raising his chalk.

MACREEDY
This your garage?

T.J.
Nope.

MACREEDY
(a beat)
Where's the man it belongs to?

T.J.
Ain't a man.

He pauses. As Macreedy opens his mouth to interrogate

further...

T.J.
Lady runs this garage.
 Again a pause. T.J. has just completed the final letter
of
the word "HATES". And again as Macreedy opens his
mouth...

T.J.
She's not here.

MACREEDY
Where'd she go?

T.J.
(shrugging)
I dunno. Somewhere.

MACREEDY
When will she be back?

T.J.
I dunno. Sometime.

Again the pause. T.J. steps back, having completed his

work,
which, of course, broadcasts the fact that "T.J. HATES
J.S.".
And again as Macreedy begins to speak...

T.J.
In about ten minutes.

MACREEDY
(with a grin)
Thanks.

T.J. turns, pulls the bike away from the building,

completes
a fastidious "pony express" and peddles furiously out of
scene.

EXT. STREET - FULL SHOT

as Macreedy, after a moment's hesitation, starts down it.

From the far end, at the telegraph agent's shack, a
figure
starts running toward Macreedy. It is Hastings. INTERCUT
between the two men. Hastings, in his concentration,
doesn't
see the stranger until he is almost upon him. He slows
down,
suddenly, awkwardly, to a self-conscious walk. Macreedy
grins
at him, passes on, shaking his head speculatively.
Hastings,
with a parting glance, gallops up the hotel steps.
 INT. HOTEL LOBBY - FULL SHOT

Smith, Coley, Hector, Pete, Doc, Sam et al are still in

evidence. Smith is in a tight little group at the desk
with
Coley, Hector and Pete. Doc has taken a position at the
window, looking out. Hastings bursts in and half-runs to
Smith...

ANGLE FAVORING SMITH AND HASTINGS

as the excited telegraph agent speaks.

HASTINGS
I called the Circle T. He ain't got
business there -- not if they don't
know him. Right, Mr. Smith?

Smith ignores him, thinking. Hastings breathes heavily.

Finally...

SMITH
(to Hastings)
Send a wire to Nick Gandi in Los
Angeles. Tell him to find out all he
can about John J. Macreedy. Tell him
I want to know fast. Sign my name.

Hastings nods, scribbling on a pad.

HASTINGS
What was that?

SMITH
Nick Gandi. G-A-N-D-I. Care of the
Blake Hotel.

Hastings nods and hurriedly exits.

COLEY
(after a beat)
Who's Gandi?

Smith looks at Coley, trying to decide if the question in

any way challenges his authority. He concludes not...

SMITH
He's a private detective.
(beat)
I drive to L.A. now and then.

HECTOR
(slightly worried)
He'll get us the dope?

SMITH
 He'll get us anything, for twenty
bucks a day and expenses.
(Hector frowns)
Hector, you worry too fast and too
easy.

HECTOR
It's just, I don't like it.

COLEY
Maybe he's just passing through.

HECTOR
Don't bet on it. He can only mean
trouble.

SMITH
(smiles faintly)
Hector, you're jumpy as a stall horse.

HECTOR
(doggedly)
We oughtta see him... talk to him.

SMITH
(quietly)
About what?
(Hector doesn't answer)
What'll we talk to him about? The
birds, the bees? The weather? The
crops?
(pauses)
You tried -- where'd it get you?

HECTOR
(uncomfortably)
I only thought...

SMITH
Sure. You only thought.

COLEY
(after a beat)
What do we do?

SMITH
What do you do? You wait. Like Pete
here. Right, Pete?

Pete nods, his brow furrowed uncomfortably in a frown.

SMITH
That's all you do. But while you
wait... I talk to him.

At this point the brittle silence is cracked by...

 DOC
(o.s.)
Hey!

Smith and those around him look off in the direction of

Doc.

DOC VELIE - AT THE WINDOW

peering out. He turns in the direction of Smith and the

others.

DOC
Now what do you know?
(beaming)
Mr. Macreedy seems to be heading for
the jail.
(impishly)
Now what do you suppose he'd want to
see the Sheriff about?

Smith goes to the window, edging Doc to one side with a

shoulder. He looks out grimly.

REVERSE SHOT - WHAT HE SEES

Macreedy, down the street, cuts up the steps of the jail.

BACK TO SCENE

Smith staring out the window with a frown. Doc watching

him
out of the corner of his eye, a bemused expression
crossing
his puckish features.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

INT. JAIL

ANGLE on Macreedy as he enters the jail. It is small and

dirty, with only a tired desk, two chairs and the usual
police
posters on the wall. One side leads to the cell block and
Macreedy heads for it.

ANGLE from interior of cell block comprising two cells,

both
of which are open. A man is asleep in the lower bunk of
the
front cell. The keys are in the lock. Macreedy shakes his
head and starts to close the creaking cell door. Sheriff
TIM
 HORN, the man in the bunk, lifts his head, blinking his
bleary
eyes. He is in terrible shape.

TIM
Hold it, friend.

He manages to crawl off the bunk and out toward Macreedy.

TIM
(grinning)
I ain't hankerin' to get locked in
my own jail.

MACREEDY
Sorry. I thought you were a guest.

TIM
As it happens, I'm the host.

He walks out of the cell, Macreedy following him into the

office.

SHOT - OF THE TWO

Tim breaks out a bottle of booze, starts to take a snort,

then stops, offers it to Macreedy.

TIM
Snort?

MACREEDY
No, thanks.

TIM
Don't blame you. It's awful.

He takes a belt that would incapacitate half the county.

He
finishes, smacks his lips, lays the bottle down, and
falls
into a chair. He looks up at Macreedy.

TIM
(suddenly mean)
What're you lookin' at?

MACREEDY
(easy)
You tell me.

TIM
(after a beat, relaxing)
I ain't always this bad -- just that
last night me and my pal Doc Velie,
we did a little celebratin'. At least
 I did.

MACREEDY
What were you celebrating?

TIM
(shrugs)
You name it.
(studies Macreedy)
What do you want?

MACREEDY
My name's Macreedy. I came in on the
Streamliner.

Tim studies him, trying to focus.

TIM
You what?

MACREEDY
I said I came in...

TIM
(interrupting)
You ain't from around here. Up Tucson
way -- Phoenix? Mesa? You ain't
sellin' cattle nor seed nor nothin'
like that?

MACREEDY
No.
(sighs, then distinctly
as to a child)
All I want from you is a little
information. I've got to get to a
place called Adobe Flat.

TIM
(reacts; then, tight-
lipped)
This ain't no information bureau.

Macreedy starts to say something, then stops.

Reconsidering...

MACREEDY
One thing about Black Rock --
everybody's polite. Makes for gracious
living.

TIM
Nobody asked you here.

MACREEDY
How do you know?
 (he moves toward the
door, with a rueful
grin)

TIM
(starting after him)
What about Adobe Flat?

MACREEDY
I'm looking for a man named Komako.

The Sheriff reaches for his bottle. In his haste he drops

it. Macreedy's hand moves quickly, catching the bottle
before
it hits the floor.

MACREEDY
Almost a disaster.

TIM
(sinking back in his
chair)
A fate worse'n death.
(he takes the bottle
from Macreedy)
You move fast for a crip... for a
big man.

For a moment heavy silence. Finally...

MACREEDY
What about Komako?

TIM
(slowly)
If there's no further questions...

Macreedy grins harshly and exits. Tim watches him go,

then
slowly reaches for the bottle. He pauses, looks at his
shaking
hand. Then he withdraws it and just sits in the chair
staring
blindly ahead, seeing nothing.

EXT. STREET

Frowning, deep in thought, Macreedy walks down the dusty

street. As he reaches the hotel...

SMITH
(o.s.)
Mr. Macreedy.

Macreedy stops, looks toward Smith as he walks out to

meet
 him.

MACREEDY
That's the friendliest word I've
heard since I got here.

As Smith joins him, he walks on. Smith falls in step

beside
him. GO WITH THEM.

SMITH
(grins boyishly)
My name is Smith. I own the Triple-
Bar ranch.
(holds out his hand;
Macreedy shakes it)
I want to apologize for some of the
folks in town.

MACREEDY
They act like they're sitting on a
keg.

SMITH
A keg...? Of what?

MACREEDY
I don't know. Maybe diamonds. Maybe
gunpowder.

SMITH
(disarmingly)
No. Nothing like that. We're a little
suspicious of strangers is all.
Hangover from the old days. The old
West.

MACREEDY
I thought the tradition of the old
West was hospitality.

SMITH
(with a sincere smile)
I'm trying to be hospitable, Mr.
Macreedy.
(boyishly pushes his
dusty cap back on
his head)
Going to be around for a while?

MACREEDY
Could be.

SMITH
How would you like to go hunting
tomorrow? I'd be proud to have you
as my guest.

MACREEDY
Thanks, but I'm afraid not.

SMITH
(with admirable candor)
You mean, because of your arm?
(slaps Macreedy's
shoulder in a
friendly,
understanding gesture)
I knew a man once, lost an arm in a
threshing accident. Used to hunt all
the time.
(almost too blandly)
But he was quite a man. He...
(pauses; then, with
discreet and charming
gravity)
I'm sorry. I... What I mean is -- if
there's anything I can do while you're
around...

MACREEDY
I'm looking for...
(sighs)
Never mind. Thanks, anyway.

SMITH
(quietly)
You're looking for what, Mr. Macreedy?

MACREEDY
(eyeing him)
A man named Komako.

SMITH
(no hesitation)
Komako -- Sure, I remember him --
Japanese farmer. Never had a chance.

MACREEDY
No?

SMITH
He got here in '41 -- just before
Pearl Harbor. Three months later he
was shipped to one of those relocation
centers.
(shaking his head)
Tough.

MACREEDY
Which one did he go to?
 SMITH
Who knows?

MACREEDY
You think maybe if I wrote him, the
letter would be forwarded?

SMITH
I'm sure it would. Write your letter.
I'll see it gets out tonight.

MACREEDY
It wouldn't be too much trouble?

SMITH
No trouble at all.

MACREEDY
Funny. Because I think it would be a
great deal of trouble for you. It's
been a great deal of trouble for me.

At this point they are in front of...

EXT. LIZ'S GARAGE

Macreedy stops, as does Smith. He looks keenly at Smith

as
he takes from his inner jacket pocket a half-dozen
letters...

MACREEDY
I wrote these letters to Komako.
They weren't forwarded. They were
returned -- address unknown.
(he smiles grimly at
Smith)
So I guess there's nothing you can
do for me, after all.

Smith opens his mouth to reply when the NOISE of a jeep

o.s.
interrupts him. The jeep comes INTO SHOT. Liz Brooks, at
the
wheel, cuts the engine and jumps out. Smith ambles
silently
to a wall and leans against it. Liz reaches behind the
driver's seat and hoists, with both hands and some
effort, a
five-gallon drum of axle grease from the floor of the
jeep.
As she rests it on the rear fender...

MACREEDY
(going to her)
Need a little help?
 The girl looks at Smith, who has made no attempt to help
her.

LIZ
I can manage.

She lifts the drum to the ground.

MACREEDY
Well, I need a little help.
(she looks at him
questioningly)
I'd like to rent your jeep.

LIZ
It'll be two dollars an hour, gas
extra, and ten dollars for my time.

SMITH
(to Liz)
Aren't you going to ask him where he
wants to go?

Liz looks from Smith to Macreedy, puzzled.

SMITH
He wants to go to Adobe Flat.

Liz hesitates. Macreedy notes her confusion as her eyes

seek
Smith's for instructions. Quickly he moves in...

MACREEDY
The road's marked?

LIZ
(nodding)
Yeah. It's about six -- seven miles
down...

MACREEDY
Then I won't need your time.

Macreedy hands her a bill. She fumbles with it, not

knowing
what else to do. Her eyes drift to Macreedy's stiff
arm...

LIZ
(uneasily)
I thought you might... need a little
help.

MACREEDY
I can manage.
 He steps toward the jeep as...

SMITH
Liz. Do you have a license to rent
cars? You could get into trouble.

MACREEDY
It's all right. I won't mention it
to the Sheriff.

He steps into jeep and, with one hand expertly

manipulating
the controls, drives off.

MED. SHOT - SMITH AND LIZ

Smith turns his attention to the girl...

SMITH
(slowly)
You shouldn't have done that.

LIZ
I thought it would be better if he
went out there and got done with it.
(Smith looks at her
sharply)
I mean, what could he find out?

For a moment Smith doesn't answer. Instead, with a half

frown,
he lifts the bill Macreedy had given her from Liz's hand.

SMITH
(as he studies it)
This is liable to be the hardest ten
dollars you ever earned in your life.

He crumples it, pokes the wad in her hand and walks off
down
the street as...

QUICK
DISSOLVE:

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

INT. JAIL - FULL SHOT - DAY

Tim sits in his chair, still staring sightlessly at the

whiskey bottle. Smith enters. He looks from Tim to the
bottle
on the table, then back to Tim.
 SMITH
(after a beat,
disinterestedly)
What did he want -- the stranger?

TIM
(abstractedly)
He asked about Komako.
(looking up at Smith)
You think he'll kick up a storm?

SMITH
(easily)
A storm? About what?

TIM
I don't know. All I know, I don't
want trouble around here.
(pauses awkwardly,
then)
Never again.

SMITH
Trouble? You don't know anything
about Komako, now do you, Tim?

TIM
I do not. That's the point.

SMITH
The point is, what you don't know
can't hurt you.

TIM
Maybe there's something I ought to
know. Maybe I ought to ask you...
before the stranger comes back and
starts breathing down my neck.

SMITH
(a faint smile)
Tim, you're a lost ball in the high
weeds. I told you a long time ago,
nothing happened for you to worry
about.

TIM
(stands up, facing
Smith)
Thing is, I do worry. Maybe I ain't
much else, but I'm sure a worrier.
(beat, then with soft
emphasis)
And I'm still the law.
 SMITH
Then do your job, Tim.

TIM
What is my job, Mr. Smith? Maybe I'd
better find out before Macreedy does
it for me.

SMITH
(evenly)
Macreedy'll do nothing, Tim. And
neither will you.

TIM
Suppose I decide to try?

SMITH
That would be dangerous. You got the
body of a hippo, Tim, but the brain
of a rabbit. Don't overtax it.

He stares harshly at the Sheriff. Tim tries

unsuccessfully
to meet his gaze. Then, slowly, he sits down.

TIM
(lowering his eyes,
mumbling)
Yes, Mr. Smith.

Smith slowly walks behind Tim's chair and silently,

patronizingly pats the Sheriff's slack shoulder...

INT. TELEGRAPH AGENT'S OFFICE - FULL SHOT

Hastings is sitting at his desk. The telegraph ticker

starts
to splutter. Hastings rushes to it. He listens, and
starts
to scribble. Then he gulps nervously, a confused
expression
on his face. As the telegraph key stops as suddenly as it
had begun, Hastings jumps up frantically and, holding the
sheet of paper, runs out of the shack.

EXT. STREET

as he runs toward hotel.

EXT. HOTEL - LONG SHOT

with Doc, Sam, Coley, Hector and Pete on the porch.

Hastings
runs up the steps, pausing momentarily. His jaws move,
but
CAMERA is too far away to pick up his obvious question.
Coley
gestures toward the jail; then Hastings turns and runs
down
the steps followed by Doc et al.

EXT. STREET - FULL SHOT

Hastings runs down the street toward the jail followed by

Doc et al.

EXT. JAIL

as Hastings runs up the steps with a hobnailed clatter.

Smith
comes out to investigate, followed by Tim. Doc, et al are
congregated at the foot of the steps. Hastings slaps the
sheet of paper in front of Smith. Utter quiet. Everyone
stares
at Smith, waiting for a reaction -- everyone except Tim,
who
stares straight ahead, seeing nothing, and Doc, whose
eyes
are locked sympathetically on Tim. Smith finishes reading
the wire. His face is expressionless. After a moment...

HECTOR
(to Smith)
From L.A.?

Smith doesn't answer but...

HASTINGS
Yeah! From that private detective!

HECTOR
(to Smith)
What does he say? Who is this guy?

HASTINGS
Never heard of him, that's what he
says! He checked and there's no John
J. Macreedy. No listing -- no record --
no information. Nothing.

PETE
(quietly, after a
beat, to Smith)
Where does that leave us?

COLEY
I'll tell you where...

SMITH
Shut up!

He folds the message carefully, puts it in his pocket.

 Abruptly Tim turns and disappears inside his office.
Smith,
with some restraint, walks down the steps to the street.

MOVING SHOT - SMITH

as he takes Coley's arm, and Pete's. The trio moves away,

taking a position perhaps 15 feet from Doc. Hector, Sam
and
Hastings move toward them.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

EXT. RAILROAD TRACKS - SMITH, COLEY AND PETE

In b.g. at a respectful distance are Hector, Sam and

Hastings.
SHOOT parallel to tracks, which disappear far into the
horizon.

The following dialogue is delivered in an undertone...

SMITH
(turning to Coley)
Now, Coley...?

COLEY
(takes a breath, then)
I think Macreedy's a nothing. A
nobody.

SMITH
Is he?

COLEY
So there's nothing to worry about.

SMITH
Isn't there?
(a beat)
You got brains, you have.

COLEY
(squirming)
But what can he find out? That Komako
was...?
(Smith glares at him)
Suppose he finds out?

SMITH
A nobody like Macreedy can raise a
pretty big stink. The point is...
who would miss a nobody like Macreedy
if he just, say, disappeared? Who,
 Coley?

Coley is terribly preoccupied, balances himself, like a

child,
on a steel rail.

SMITH
(exasperated)
Coley!

COLEY
(galvanized from the
rail)
Huh?

PETE
Why don't we wait...

SMITH
Wait for what?

PETE
I mean, maybe he won't find anything.
Maybe he'll just go away.

SMITH
Not Macreedy. I know those maimed
guys. Their minds get twisted. They
put on hair shirts and act like
martyrs. They're all of 'em do-
gooders, trouble makers, freaks.

PETE
But there's no danger yet. Let's
wait and see.

SMITH
(interrupting,
appealing to Coley
as an equal)
No danger, he says. This guy's like
a carrier of small pox. Since he
arrives, there's been a fever in
this town, an infection. And it's
spreading.
(he glances from Coley
to Pete)
Hastings has been in a sick sweat,
running around, shooting off his
face. Doc, for the first time in
four years, gets snotty with me.
Liz...
(to Pete)
...your own sister -- acts like a
fool.
 PETE
(hotly)
She's just a kid.

SMITH
(scoffing)
Kid! She must have strained every
muscle in her head to get so stupid!
Renting him a jeep! And Tim -- Tim,
the rum-dum. Tim suddenly decides
he's gotta act like a Sheriff.
(to Coley, gesturing
at Pete)
And he says what's the danger.

Brittle silence for a moment. Then...

SMITH
(easily)
Of course, if you want to take the
chance...

Pete doesn't answer.

COLEY
(grimly)
Not me.

SMITH
All right, then...

PETE
It's not all right! You're so mighty
quick to kill -- he's not an animal!

SMITH
(to Coley, with mock
surprise)
Well, listen to little spitfire...
(turning slowly on
Pete)
You sniveling toad! I'm saving your
neck! If I don't, who will?

PETE
(squirming)
All I said...

SMITH
Who will?! Doc? Tim? Your sister,
with the rocks in her head?

Pete is silent.

SMITH
One thing about your sister -- she's
 got twice the guts you have. You're
only fit for running away.

COLEY
It's too late for that.
(belligerently, slowly,
at Pete)
He's in this, and he ain't running
no place.

There is a long, electric silence. Pete is defeated.

SMITH
(finally)
All right, then...

He pauses for emphasis. Then, as he starts to talk

again...

INT. JAIL

Tim stands facing the wall, shoulders hunched, suffering.

Doc comes in and watches him silently, Tim turns, facing
Doc, turns again to concentrate on a faded newspaper
photograph framed and hanging on the wall.

ANOTHER ANGLE - TIM

SHOOTING over his shoulder. Focal point: the

"photograph".
It shows a widly grinning, moderately alert and healthy
Tim
of perhaps five years ago. He is wearing, proudly, his
badge
of office, and behind him, mildly interested in the
proceedings, is Reno Smith, his erstwhile sponsor. The
heading
on the photo reads: DEPUTY SHERIFF NAMED FOR BLACK ROCK.

MED. SHOT - TIM AND DOC

Tim takes the photo off the wall and, holding it, turns
to
face Doc...

TIM
Let Smith find himself a new boy. I
can't take it another day.
(pauses, looks at Doc)
If you're a sheriff, they gotta
respect you, otherwise you can't do
your job.
(shakes his head)
They just laugh.

DOC
 I don't laugh, Tim.

TIM
Why don't you?

DOC
Cut it out, Tim.

TIM
You should!

DOC
In the name of well-adjusted manhood,
snap out of it. You're going to get
a complex or something.

TIM
Four years ago if I'd of done my
job... if I'd of checked up and found
out what happened. But I didn't!
Just like Smith figured.

DOC
What could you have found out? They
told you a story. You had to believe
it.

TIM
Do you believe it?

Doc squirms but doesn't answer.

TIM
Do you know what happened?

DOC
I don't know.
(ironically)
I lead a quiet, contemplative life.

TIM
Me, I didn't even try to find out.
(a beat)
Don't you understand?
(he taps the badge on
his chest)
When you wear that badge, you're the
Law. And when something happens,
against the Law, you're supposed to
do something about it. It's your
job.
(simply)
Me... I did nothin'. And that's what's
eatin' me. What kind of prescription
you got for that?
 DOC
I don't know. I've never been able
to find one for myself.

Tim takes off his badge and throws it on the desk.

DOC
Only one thing -- don't quit, Tim.

TIM
Why not?

DOC
Maybe this feller Macreedy has the
prescription.

They look at each other. Slowly Tim picks up his badge

and
pins it back on.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

EXT. DESERT ROAD

An old marker, jutting on an angle at the side of the

road,
reads: ADOBE FLAT. Beneath it an arrow points ahead.
Macreedy
steers the jeep up the narrow, rutted trail between a
serious
of enormous boulders.

ANOTHER ANGLE

as he drives to the far end of the boulders, reaching a

flat
piece of land completely surrounded by rocks. Beyond the
rocks is what remains of a burned-out ranch house, and an
abandoned well.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

MED. SHOT - MACREEDY

in the wreckage. The remains of an iron bed. The burned-

out
shell of a pick-up truck. Part of a stove. A morass of
bottles, all sizes and shapes, some of them broken.
Macreedy
halts momentarily beside the well. Reaching out he
touches
the warped sun-beaten boards that cover the mouth. He
removes
one, and, picking up a pebble, drops it through the
opening.
There is a long beat and then, from far, far below we
HEAR a
faint PLUNK (o.s.). He replaces the board and walks to a
broken wall. He touches the burned out frame of a
picture.
The frame falls to the ground, leaving an un-scorched
square
on the surface of the wall. He goes past a solitary
standing
stone chimney. Suddenly he halts, arrested by something
among
the rubble, the rottenness and the ashes.

REVERSE ANGLE - WHAT HE SEES

Surrounded by the seared and blackened earth is a

rectangular
patch of lovely wild flowers.

BACK TO MACREEDY

studying the brightly colored flowers. His face is lined

in
thought. He stoops, gathers a few buds in his hand. He
examines them, his brow furrowed. As he slowly twirls a
flower
between thumb and forefinger, CAMERA PANS from Macreedy
in a
long slow arc, taking in miles and miles of barren
wasteland.
CAMERA RISES, TILTING UPWARD to a cliff far away and
shielded
from Macreedy's view by the intervening rocks and ridges.

EXTREME LONG SHOT - CLIFF

and on it the outline of an automobile.

MED. SHOT - THE CAR

empty. It is parked on a narrow dirt road. On one side of

the road the cliff falls abruptly to the valley far
below;
on the other, the steep, shaly outcropping continues to
rise.
For a moment CAMERA HOLDS on the car. Then it PANS SLOWLY
upward about fifty feet, HOLDING this time on...

PINNACLE OF CLIFF

where a man is looking off toward Adobe Flat through a

pair
of high-powered glasses. The man is Coley Trimble.
 ADOBE WELLS - MACREEDY

Grimly he walks toward the jeep, still holding the wild

flowers. Now he pockets them, jumps into the vehicle and
drives off.

THE CLIFF - COLEY

continues to train his glasses on Macreedy far below in

the
moving jeep.

THE JEEP - MACREEDY

driving steadily over rough, rocky terrain.

COLEY

climbs down from the pinnacle of the cliff and enters a

big,
powerful '36 Packard sedan.

MACREEDY

shifts to low gear as the jeep presses into hilly

country.

COLEY - IN HIS CAR

turns on the ignition.

MACREEDY - IN THE JEEP

as it winds along a road with the cliff rising on one

side
and falling off steeply on the other. He rounds a curve,
passes an insignificant side road, drives on.

THE SIDE ROAD

The car with Coley at the wheel pulls out, follows

Macreedy.

INTERCUT between the two cars, with the distance between

them constantly diminishing.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

EXT. - FLAT ROAD

a straightaway, cutting through rocky outcroppings on

both
sides. Macreedy's jeep roars by, pursued by the gaining
 Packard.

CLOSE SHOT - MACREEDY IN JEEP - (PROCESS)

For the first time he is aware that he is being followed,

and that the man at the wheel of the big Packard is
Coley.

SHOT - PACKARD

picking up tremendous speed.

EXT. - ROAD BED

proceeding over a series of turns, inclines, declivities

(according to location terrain). Engines roar, brakes
whinny,
tires scream, skidding on the turns.

ANOTHER ANGLE - ROAD BED

as Coley overtakes Macreedy. He steers the big car within

a
foot or two of the jeep. The terrain has steepened; on
the
right there is nothing between the road and the valley
floor
far below but a few inches of soft shoulder.

As Macreedy pulls wide on a razor turn, Coley tries to

come
inside him. Macreedy, fighting for control of the veering
jeep, succeeds in cutting him off.

CURVE IN ROAD

In the approach, Coley cuts sharp into the jeep. The jeep
seems to roll with the blow, then leaps ahead,
maneuvering
the turn.

CLOSE SHOT COLEY IN CAR (PROCESS)

Coley is flustered, his face blood-shot with fury. He

seems
to generate an atmosphere of vicious, cruel craziness;
the
wild smile across his mouth is almost sensual, obscene.
He
floorboards the Packard. Like some monstrous battering
ram,
the heavy car smashes into the jeep's rear bumper,
kicking
the smaller vehicle jerkily ahead. Coley floorboards the
gas
pedal, again. Each time he slams into the jeep with
sickening
force, with the brutal abrasion of metal pounding metal.

CLOSE SHOT - MACREEDY - (PROCESS)

With one arm he works frantically to keep his under-sized

car on the twisty road. He sees ahead a precipitous cliff
falling off on an impossibly sharp curve. He makes a
decision...

Just ahead the gradient is comparatively gradual, however

steep by normal standards. He swings the jeep off the
road,
onto the declivity. The car plunges downward,
miraculously
upright. Macreedy jockeys it to a whirring, shuddering
halt
in the soft sand at the bottom of a draw.

Macreedy turns slightly and looks up the mountain-side

with
the road at its summit...

WHAT HE SEES: EXTREME LONG SHOT - COLEY

standing at the edge of the road, peering down at him. In

b.g., the Packard. Coley turns emphatically, gets into
car,
drives off.

BACK TO MACREEDY

His face is caked with the sweat of his exertions and

dust
kicked up by the grinding wheels. He exhales heavily and
runs a shaky hand across the side of his head. He becomes
aware suddenly of a NOISE, a trickling, an unmistakable
tinkle
as of running water. He frowns, opens the jeep door...

MEDIUM SHOT - JEEP

as Macreedy unlatches the hood and throws it open. The

NOISE
continues. Macreedy examines the engine and finds the
difficulty...

INSERT - ENGINE

focal point: the nut joining the gas line with the
carburetor
has worked loose in the jouncing the car has taken. With
his
hand Macreedy screws it tight.

MEDIUM SHOT - JEEP

 as Macreedy lowers the hood, re-enters jeep. He turns on
ignition. The engine fires. As he drives slowly out of
the
ravine...

DISSOL
VE:

EXT. BLACK ROCK - MAIN STREET CLOSE SHOT - HECTOR

his long face even more horsey than usual, with half an
apple
in his mouth. He stands in front of the grocery store,
with
the baskets of fruit on the sidewalk. He looks up, stops
crunching.

CLOSE SHOT - SAM

at the window of the Bar & Grill, cleaning an ear with a

toothpick. He looks out. The toothpick is motionless.

CLOSE SHOT - HASTINGS

fidgeting outside his shack. He looks up. His Adam's

apple
turns completely over.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

REVERSE SHOT - WHAT THEY SEE

Macreedy slowly driving the jeep toward Liz's garage. He

looks neither to the right nor left.

GROUP SHOT - FAVORING SMITH AND COLEY

Standing on the porch of the hotel, watching. Smith's

face
compresses, and his eyes swivel to rest on Coley's with
cold,
contemptuous anger. Coley licks his lips uneasily. Smith
turns and enters the hotel. Coley meekly follows.

FULL SHOT - MACREEDY

He brakes the jeep before the garage. No one is there. He

parks the vehicle, gets out and heads down the street.

EXT. HOTEL

Macreedy is about to go up the steps when he sees Coley's

car at the curb. Both right fenders are creased. An ugly,
 jagged break has split the front bumper almost in half,
one
part angling crazily toward the sky, the other drooping
in
the dust of the road. Smith and Coley come out of the
hotel.
They stand on the porch, watching Macreedy as he in turn
watches the car. They exchange a glance. Smith nods,
so...

COLEY
Well, if it's not Macreedy - the
world's champion road hog.

He walks down the steps to the street, joining Macreedy.

Smith remains on the porch.

MACREEDY
Yeah. It's a small world.

COLEY
But such an unfriendly one. Now why
did you want to crowd me off the
road?

MACREEDY
(with a slow grin)
I'm kind of sorry if I've incurred
your displeasure.

COLEY
Look what you did to my car.

MACREEDY
If there's anything I can do to make
up for it...

COLEY
You ought to be careful, man -- all
that one-arm driving.

MACREEDY
I'd be glad to pay the damages.

COLEY
It's a threat to life and limb.

MACREEDY
Fortunately no one was hurt.

COLEY
You could get yourself killed that
way -- nosin' all over the
countryside.

MACREEDY
 That's the real danger, I can see
that.

COLEY
Why that's pretty smart of you. How
long you intend to keep it up?

MACREEDY
I'm getting out of here, right now.

He walks up the steps, past Smith, and into the hotel.

Coley
glances up at Smith, grinning with self-satisfaction,
like a
small boy who has carried out perfectly the instructions
of
his teacher.

INT. HOTEL

The lobby empty except for Pete behind the desk. Macreedy
goes to him. Pete seems elaborately occupied arranging
and
re-arranging a few file cards. Smith enters the lobby. He
stands in b.g. watching Macreedy and the desk clerk.

MACREEDY
(to Pete)
Still expecting that convention?

PETE
(looking up)
What...?

MACREEDY
If you're expecting any extra cowboys,
my room is available.

PETE
You're checking out?

MACREEDY
(nodding)
Is there a train through here tonight?

PETE
Nothing till tomorrow morning. The
streamliner.

MACREEDY
I know that. How about freights?
(Pete shakes his head)
Milk train?

PETE
Tomorrow. After the streamliner.
 MACREEDY
Busses?

PETE
Closest stop is Sand City -- thirty-
two miles away.
(a beat)
You're in such a hurry, you should
have never got off here.

MACREEDY
I'm inclined to agree with you.

He turns, walks toward porch. Pete looks at Smith.

Smith's
eyes follow Macreedy.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

INT. LIZ'S GARAGE - FULL SHOT

In the gloom of the lube pit, Liz's mechanic, a dirty old

man, is draining the oil out of the crankcase of the car
on
the rack. The girl stands beside the pit, silently
watching
the old man. Now she pauses, looks o.s. toward the open
garage
doors...

WHAT SHE SEES - MACREEDY

entering the scene, stopping to look at Liz's jeep parked

in
front of the wide doors. He turns his eyes vaguely in the
direction of Liz, but he doesn't see her in the shadows
behind
the car on the rack, He advances a step, pausing...

MACREEDY
Anybody home?

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

EXT. LUBE PIT - LIZ

She does not answer. Instead, she silently twists the

crankcase petcock, stopping the flow of oil. She watches
Macreedy closely.

INT. GARAGE
 Macreedy again shifts his eyes to the jeep, then, with
decision, he goes to a work bench, opening the drawers
and
rummaging among the contents.

LIZ
(o.s.)
If you're looking for the jeep key...

Macreedy turns as Liz comes toward him. She gestures

toward
the open drawers.

LIZ
...it's not there...

Macreedy waits for her to go on. She doesn't. She stands

there, staring at him.

MACREEDY
(after a beat)
In that case, where do you suggest I
look?

She turns, walks back toward the lube pit.

LIZ
(over her shoulders)
The jeep's not for rent.

MACREEDY
It was, just a few hours ago.

LIZ
(flatly)
Things change.

MACREEDY
(with grim amusement)
Sure. And Smith is the kid who changes
'em.

She doesn't answer. Macreedy goes to her.

MACREEDY
Miss Brooks.
(softly)
What's the matter with this town of
yours?

LIZ
Nothing. It's none of your concern.

MACREEDY
Then why are they all so concerned
about me?

LIZ
Am I concerned?

MACREEDY
No, you're not. But...

LIZ
But what?

MACREEDY
(easily)
But it strikes me you're a little
too unconcerned. So unconcerned you
won't even rent me a jeep.

LIZ
(flaring)
I don't run a taxi service. I don't
have a license.

MACREEDY
I wish others in this town were as
scrupulously devoted to law and order
as you are.

LIZ
(hotly)
Why don't you lay off! If you don't
like it here, go back where you came
from!

MACREEDY
Funny thing. They try to kill me,
and you feel persecuted.

LIZ
I don't want to get involved.

MACREEDY
Involved in what?

LIZ
(retreating)
Whatever you're up to. Whatever
happens, I've got to go on living
here. These people are my neighbors,
my friends.

MACREEDY
All of them?

LIZ
(slowly)
This is my town, Mr. Macreedy, like
it or not. Whatever happened here,
it was long ago, now it's... it's...

MACREEDY
(evenly)
Dead and buried?
(a beat)
Whatever did happen, you don't seem
to like it. Why do you stick around?

LIZ
(after a beat)
Because of my brother. Pete. He'd
never leave.

MACREEDY
Didn't you ever think of going without
him. You're sort of independent and
he's... he's...

LIZ
Weak. I know. That's why I couldn't
leave him.

MACREEDY
(softly)
What did your brother do?

LIZ
He... I...
(flaring again)
What do you care? What do you care
about Black Rock?

MACREEDY
Nothing much. Only, there're not
many places like this in America --
but even one is too many. Because I
think something sort of bad happened
here.
(frowning)
Something I can't find the handle
to...

LIZ
You just think so. You don't know.

MACREEDY
This much I know -- the rule of law
has been suspended in this town. The
gorillas have taken over.

LIZ
You're a fine one to talk! You come
in here, sneaking around, trying to
steal the key to my jeep.
 MACREEDY
I kind of had a notion that was the
only way I could get it.

She opens her mouth to answer, but she doesn't know what
to
say.

MACREEDY
(simply)
Was I wrong, Miss Brooks?

He waits as she tries to answer, and again she can't. For

a
moment he watches her struggle in anguished silence with
herself. Then he turns and goes out.

EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY

walks thoughtfully down street. He comes abreast of

hotel.

EXT. PORCH OF HOTEL

where Smith is still sitting. For a moment he watches

Macreedy
speculatively, then...

SMITH
(calling)
Mr. Macreedy.
(reasonably, as
Macreedy turns toward
him)
I'd like to ask you a few questions...
as long as you're around...

MACREEDY
(walking up steps)
I'm around all right.

He stands facing Smith on the porch, then...

MACREEDY
(with just a touch of
wryness)
You probably know that Miss Brooks
is no longer in the car rental
business?

SMITH
(solemnly)
Good. I wouldn't want to see that
girl get into trouble...
 MACREEDY
You wouldn't?

SMITH
...what with rental permits, gas
rationing... you know what I mean.

MACREEDY
Sure. I admire your sturdy sense of
responsibility.

SMITH
(dismissively)
It's just, a girl like that has a
future.

MACREEDY
Let's talk about my future.

SMITH
(almost slyly)
Do you have the time?

MACREEDY
I don't seem to be going any place.

He takes the other chair.

SMITH
(after a pause)
I hear you handle a jeep real well.

MACREEDY
I have a way with jeeps. A certain
familiarity.

SMITH
I think I understand. You're an Army
man.
(looking at Macreedy's
stiff arm)
Where'd you get it?

MACREEDY
Italy.

SMITH
(sincerely)
Tough. I tried to get in myself, the
day after those rats bombed Pearl
Harbor.

MACREEDY
What stopped you?

SMITH
 The physical. They wouldn't take me.
The morning after Pearl, I was the
first man in line at Marine recruiting
in Sand City. And they wouldn't take
me.

MACREEDY
(flatly)
Tough.

SMITH
What do you do in Los Angeles, Mr.
Macreedy?

MACREEDY
I'm retired.

SMITH
You're a pretty young man...

MACREEDY
You might say I was forced into
retirement.

SMITH
What were you looking for in Adobe
Flat?

MACREEDY
Komako, like I told you. Like you
told me, he wasn't there.

Smith laughs quietly.

MACREEDY
What's so funny?

SMITH
Nothing. It's just -- I don't believe
you. I believe a man is as big as
what he seeks. I believe you're a
big man, Mr. Macreedy.

MACREEDY
Flattery will get you nowhere.

SMITH
Why would a man like you be looking
for a lousy Jap farmer?

MACREEDY
Maybe I'm not so big.

SMITH
Yes, you are.
(a beat; looking hard
 at Macreedy)
I believe that a man is as big as
the things that make him mad. Nobody
around here has been big enough to
make you mad.

MACREEDY
What makes you mad, Mr. Smith?

SMITH
Me...? Nothing in particular.

MACREEDY
(bemused)
I see. You're a big man, too. Only...
(calmly)
...the Japanese make you mad...

SMITH
That's different. After the sneak
attack on Pearl Harbor... after
Bataan...

MACREEDY
...and Komako made you mad.

SMITH
It's the same thing.
(scoffing)
Loyal Japanese-Americans -- that's a
laugh. They're mad dogs. Look at
Corregidor, the death march.

MACREEDY
What did Komako have to do with
Corregidor?

SMITH
Wasn't he a Jap? Look, Macreedy,
there's a law in this county against
shooting dogs. But if I see a mad
dog loose, I don't wait for him to
bite me.
(exhales sharply,
shaking his head
with irritation)
I swear, you're beginning to make me
mad.

MACREEDY
(calmly)
All strangers do.

SMITH
Not all. Some of 'em. When they come
here snooping.
 MACREEDY
Snooping for what?

SMITH
I mean, outsiders coming around,
looking for something.

MACREEDY
(pressing)
For what?

SMITH
I don't know. People are always
looking for something in this part
of the West. To the historian, it's
the "Old West." To the book writers,
it's the "Wild West." To the
businessmen, it's the "Undeveloped
West." They all say we're backward
and poor, and I guess we are.
(snorts)
We don't even have enough water.
(a beat)
But this place, to us, is our West.
(heatedly)
I just wish they'd leave us alone.

MACREEDY
Leave you alone to do what?

SMITH
(coldly)
I don't know what you mean.

MACREEDY
What happened to Komako?

SMITH
He went away, I told you. Shortly
after he left, a bunch of kids got
fooling around out his place. They
burned it down. It was one of those
things -- you know how kids are.

Macreedy laughs quietly.

SMITH
What's funny?

MACREEDY
Nothing. Only -- I don't believe
you. Any more than I believed you
about the letters.

SMITH
 (smiling)
You don't seem to believe anything I
say.

MACREEDY
(vaguely)
Yes, I do -- about businessmen, for
instance. I think a businessman would
be interested in Adobe Flat.

SMITH
Why?

MACREEDY
All that land lying fallow. Could be
put to some use. Like a graveyard.
(Smith opens his mouth
to speak but Macreedy
goes on)
A historian might be interested,
too. Because of the strange customs
around here, such as burying cattle...

SMITH
Burying cattle...?

MACREEDY
(calmly)
Something's buried out there.

He takes the wild flowers from his pocket, holding them

in
front of Smith.

MACREEDY
See these wild flowers? That means a
grave. I've seen it overseas. I figure
it isn't a man's grave or someone
would have marked it. Sort of a
mystery, isn't it?

SMITH
Sort of. Maybe you can figure it
out.

Macreedy gets up, half turns to Smith.

MACREEDY
Maybe.

He starts down the steps.

SMITH
Why not give it a whirl?
(Macreedy turns)
It'll help you pass the time...
 (continued;
meaningfully)
...for a while.

MACREEDY
Not interested. I got other things
to do.

He turns and walks down the street.

EXT. MAIN STREET - MACREEDY

headed towards Doc's establishment. The building, which

serves
Doc as home, office and laboratory, has centered on a
pane
of glass:

T.R. VELIE, JR. UNDERTAKER AND VETERINARY

And in the lower right hand corner:

ASSAYER NOTARY PUBLIC

A few of the peeled gold and black letters are completely

missing.

The building is separated from the structure next to it

by
an alleyway. Filling the narrow passage is Hector David,
his
long massive body wedged against the wall like an unkempt
monument. His little pig eyes meet Macreedy's. Hector
spits
in the dust with bland insolence.

EXT. DOC'S OFFICE - MACREEDY

walks up the steps and enters.

INT. DOC'S OFFICE

Dark and shadowy. At the far end of a hallway an insipid

light bulb burns. Macreedy goes toward it, entering...

INT. DOC'S LAB

devoted to the care and preservation of the Dear

Departed.
In the center of the room is a long rectangular slab
stained
with the juices of those unfortunates who have had
occasion
to rest thereon. The walls are lined with rickety
bookcases
jammed, not with volumes, but with the jugs and jars, the
 chemicals and unguents of Doc's multiple callings. In a
corner
three or four neat pine boxes are stacked one on the
other.

Doc sits at a cluttered desk feeding a large bowl of

goldfish
and sipping a glass of milk. He looks up as Macreedy
enters.

DOC
Hi. Pull up a chair.

MACREEDY
(nodding)
Can I use your phone?

DOC
Help yourself.
(chuckles)
You know, you're one of the few people
who's ever been back here I can say
that to.

Macreedy reaches for the phone book.

DOC
It's 4-2-4.

MACREEDY
(pausing)
What's 4-2-4?

DOC
If I've got you pegged -- and I think
I have -- you're calling the State
Police. But if I was you -- and I'm
purely glad I'm not -- I'd look it
up myself.
(emphatically)
I wouldn't trust anybody around here,
including me.

Macreedy thinks it over and comes to a swift decision. He

checks the phone book. Then, picking up phone...

MACREEDY
(to Doc)
Thanks.
(into receiver)
4-2-4.

INT. TELEPHONE OPERATOR'S OFFICE

a cubbyhole behind the hotel clerk's desk in the lobby.

At
 the switchboard is Pete, and above him tacked on the wall
is
the sign:

SMILE

PETE
(into phone)
4-2-4...?
(he looks up)

CAMERA PULLS BACK revealing Smith standing beside him.

The
two men exchange a nod.

PETE
(into phone)
Lines 're busy.
(he clicks off the
instrument)

INT. DOC'S LAB

Macreedy slowly puts down the phone. Doc sips his milk,
all
the while staring queasily over the glass at Macreedy. He
puts it down, his gaze still fixed on the stranger...

DOC
(sing-song)
I know -- don't tell me -- lines all
busy. They'll be busy all day.

MACREEDY
(after a beat,
grimacing)
Don't look at me like that.

DOC
Like what?

MACREEDY
Like I'm a potential customer.

DOC
Everybody is -- and I get 'em coming
and going.

He goes to a topographic map hanging on the wall -- a

large,
impressive map -- faded, fly-blown and divided into
sections.

DOC
(gesturing toward it)
First I sell 'em a piece of land.
 Think they farm it? Nope. They dig
for gold.

He moves to photograph beside the map on the wall -- a

large,
impressive photograph of a placer mine in operation.

DOC
They rip off the top soil of ten
winding hills. They sprint in here,
fog-heaved with excitement, lugging
nuggets, big and bright and shiny.

He moves to his desk, picks up a glistening blob of

stone,
resting next to an assayer's scales, and examines it...

DOC
(rhetorically)
Is it gold?

He bangs the rock down next to the scales.

DOC
It is not! Do they quit? They do
not!

He moves to a third illustration -- a colored

reproduction,
large and impressive -- of acres upon green acres of
produce
in bloom; the kind of picture Southern Pacific places
above
its calendars.

DOC
(with theatrical
gesture toward
reproduction)
Then they decide to farm. Farm! In
country so dry you have to prime a
man before he can spit, and before
you can say "Fat Sam" they're stalled,
stranded and starving. They get weevil-
brained and buttsprung...

He moves to the coffins piled in a corner and runs his

hand
down the smooth pine sides with loving tenderness.

DOC
(simply)
So I bury 'em.
(a beat, as he rejoins
Macreedy in the center
of the room)
 But why should I bore you with my
triumphs?

MACREEDY
Yeah. I've got a problem of my own.

Doc nods; he points vaguely toward the street...

DOC
(like an old testament
prophet)
They're going to kill you with no
hard feelings.

MACREEDY
(nastily)
And you'll just sit on your hands
and let them.

DOC
Don't get waspish with me, young
feller.

MACREEDY
Sorry.

DOC
I feel for you, but I'm consumed
with apathy. Why should I mix in?

MACREEDY
To save a life.

DOC
I got enough trouble saving my own.
(he refills his glass
from a milk bottle
on the desk)
I try to live right and drink my
orange juice every day. But mostly I
try to mind my own business. Which
is something I'd advise you to do.

MACREEDY
It's a little late for that...

DOC
You can still get out of town. And
you'd better get out like a whisper.

MACREEDY
How can I?

DOC
(taking a key ring
from his pocket)
 I got sort of a limousine at your
disposal.

MACREEDY
Where is it?

DOC
(tossing him the key)
Out back.

Macreedy snares the key and walks out. Doc gets up to

follow
him.

EXT. REAR OF DOC'S OFFICE

An old-fashioned hearse, with plate glass sides and

elaborate
lead candelabra -- Doc's "limousine" -- is parked a few
steps
from the door. Macreedy climbs in behind the wheel as Doc
comes out and stands on the small back porch.

Macreedy turns on the ignition switch. His foot kicks

over
the starter, but the spark doesn't catch. He tries again,
then again. He pauses, frowns, as Doc comes down from the
porch and joins him.

MACREEDY
(concentrating on the
dashboard)
Won't start.

DOC
(nervously, to Macreedy)
Something wrong?

MACREEDY
Just won't start...

Again he presses the ignition switch. Nothing. And

suddenly,
in b.g., the great bulk of Hector David looms up, leaning
against the porch pillar at the corner of the alleyway.
His
expression is almost dreamy. For a moment he stands there
while Macreedy toys with the ignition and the sick engine
wheezes and grinds. Then he ambles up to the hearse...

HECTOR
(gratuitously)
Could be the wirin'. Why don't you
look under the hood?

MACREEDY
 For that I thank you.
(pause)
How much time you think I've got
before...?

DOC
They'll wait at least till dark.
(angrily)
They'd be afraid to see each other's
faces.

MACREEDY
(slapping Doc's
shoulder lightly)
Well, so long, Doc. I can't say it's
been charming but...

DOC
Where are you going?

MACREEDY
I don't know. But I'm going on foot.

DOC
That's no good. You stray ten yards
off Main Street, and you'll be stone,
cold dead.
(offers Macreedy a
cigarette)
That's the situation, in a nut.

Macreedy takes the cigarette, lighting a match with one

hand.
He puts the fire to Doc's smoke and then lights his own.
He
inhales, exhales, thinking. Finally...

Macreedy gets out of the car. Hector has already opened

the
hood. Doc peers nervously over his shoulder. As they
study
the engine, Hector's horsey face appears behind them. He
gestures toward the engine.

INSERT - THE ENGINE

Focal point: a hopeless snarl of ignition wires.

BACK TO SCENE

HECTOR
It's the wirin', like I said. Now
wasn't that a good guess?

Slowly he takes off his wrist watch and puts it in his

pants
 pocket.

MACREEDY
(quietly)
It can be fixed.

Ignoring Hector, he bends over the engine, controlling

his
obvious awareness that Hector has fouled up the ignition.

HECTOR
Easy. Unless, of course, this here
wire...
(reaching inside the
hood, pointing)
...got broke or something.

DOC
(suddenly, heatedly,
turning on Hector)
Do the nice little things, like keep
your big fat nose out of my business.

Hector's eyes go hard. He reaches out suddenly, one great

hand closing over the distributor cap. He yanks, ripping
the
feed wires out of their sockets.

HECTOR
(triumphantly, holding
up the wires)
Yep. It's the wirin'.

Still gripping the wires, he walks off. Doc simmers down.

He
turns to face Macreedy, who hasn't moved. Now Macreedy
slowly
lowers the hood of the car.

DOC
(softly, after a beat)
I'm sorry, son. You got to admit, I
tried.

MACREEDY
(as if to himself)
Maybe...

DOC
Maybe what?

MACREEDY
If I can't get out of town, maybe I
can get the state cops in.

DOC
 (irritably)
You tried the phone, didn't you? You
know what happened, don't you?

MACREEDY
There's another way. I'll be seeing
you, Doc.

He walks off. Doc looks after him grimly.

DOC
(calling)
I hope you'll be seeing me.

QUICK
DISSOLVE:

INT. TELEGRAPH AGENT'S OFFICE

Macreedy stands at the high counter, writing on a Postal

Telegraph blank. Behind the counter, watching him
nervously,
is Hastings. At the agent's elbow is a big pitcher with
dew
on the glass. It holds a pale liquid and a chunk of ice.
His
eyes on Macreedy, Hastings refills a glass tumbler. He
takes
a gulp as Macreedy puts down the pencil and pushes the
message
toward him. Now Hastings puts down his glass, picks up
the
form and scans it hurriedly. He looks at Macreedy, eyes
glazed
with anxiety...

HASTINGS
You notifyin' the state po-lice?

MACREEDY
(putting a bill on
the counter)
That's what it says.

Hastings again refills his glass, slopping the liquid

over
on the counter. He picks up the glass, hesitates, offers
it
awkwardly to Macreedy.

HASTINGS
(plaintively)
Lemonade?

Macreedy shakes his head. No.

 HASTINGS
(mopping his forehead)
It's hot as Billy-be-durned.

He drinks, puts down the glass. Macreedy pushes the bill

across the counter toward him. Hastings picks it up
gingerly
then pauses...

HASTINGS
Don't you like lemonade?

MACREEDY
I never thought much about it.

HASTINGS
It don't have the muzzle velocity of
some other drinks drunk around here,
but it's good for what ails you.

MACREEDY
(after a beat)
What ails you, Mr. Hastings?

HASTINGS
Me...?

MACREEDY
Why are you so upset about...
(points)
...this wire?

HASTINGS
Me...?

MACREEDY
Are you afraid, Mr. Hastings?

HASTINGS
Me...?
(a beat, then softly)
I guess I am.
(awkwardly he puts
Macreedy's bill back
on the counter)
But what's the use talkin'...?
(with grudging respect)
You don't know what it's like, being
scared.

MACREEDY
(not unsympathetically)
You want me to describe the symptoms?
Right this minute I'm scared half to
death.
 HASTINGS
(simply)
You should be.

MACREEDY
Yeah. But not of the state police.

HASTINGS
(stonily)
Neither am I.

MACREEDY
Then what are you afraid of? The
grave at Adobe Flat? A grave nobody
marked, nobody knows anything about.

HASTINGS
That ain't it, either.

MACREEDY
Is it Smith?
(no answer)
Is it?!

HASTINGS
(squirming)
Look, Mr. Macreedy. I'm just a good
neighbor...

MACREEDY
To Smith you are. How about to Komako?

HASTINGS
(meeting Macreedy's
eyes)
I never seen Komako in my life.
Honest.

MACREEDY
(again pushes the
bill toward Hastings)
Then send that wire, and bring me
the answer. You'll do that, won't
you?

HASTINGS
(pauses, then worriedly
picking up the bill)
Yes, sir.

Macreedy turns and walks out. Hastings stands sweating,

staring hard at the message in his hand as...

QUICK
DISSOLVE:
 OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

INT. SAM'S BAR & GRILL

A few loafers are at the bar, draped bonelessly on high

stools. There is the usual array of bottles and glasses
aligned before a cracked, discolored mirror. In the
corner
is a jukebox. Along the opposite wall is a line of low
stools
facing a counter covered with oil-cloth thumb-tacked in
place.
Behind it is a greasy hot plate and a couple of soiled
displays -- breakfast food, soft drinks, etc. At the
grill
counter is Sam, cleaning his finger-nails with a
toothpick.
At the bar, engaged in a worrisome conversation, are four
loafers, FRANKLIN KROOL, WALT MURTRY, RON BENTHAM and
STERLING
LENARD.

KROOL
I tell you, I won't have anything to
do with it.

MURTRY
(nodding emphatically)
Live and let live, that's what I
say.

BENTHAM
(frowning)
I don't know. I just don't know.

LENARD
(to Bentham)
You gonna brood about it? Or you
want another beer?

BENTHAM
A beer, I guess. Only...

He looks up, and something makes him hesitate...

WHAT HE SEES -- EXT. BAR & GRILL - MACREEDY

stopping in front of the restaurant. On the window large,

rough capital letters in water paint proclaim:

SAM'S SANITARY BAR & GRILL

Macreedy pauses, shrugs and then enters.

 INT. BAR & GRILL

Sam is still working on his finger nails. He evidences

little
interest in the stranger, but at the bar in b.g. the
loafers
stiffen. Macreedy takes a stool in front of Sam.

SAM
What'll you have?

MACREEDY
What have you got?

SAM
Chili wit' beans.

MACREEDY
Anything else?

SAM
Chili wit'out beans.

Macreedy winces.

SAM
You don't like the taste, that's
what they make ketchup for.

MACREEDY
In that case, I'll have it. And a
cup of coffee.

The door of the Bar & Grill opens. Smith and Coley enter.
They walk to Macreedy, stopping just a few feet behind
him.

COLEY
(to Macreedy, with
menacing friendliness)
You still around? I thought you didn't
like this place.

MACREEDY
(pleasantly)
Going to, or coming from?

COLEY
Staying put.

MACREEDY
No comment.

He turns again as Sam plops an unseasonable mess of chili

in
front of him.
 COLEY
(to Smith, gesturing
a thumb toward
Macreedy)
No comment, he says. No comment, and
all the time he's got my chair.

Macreedy smiles tiredly. He half turns toward Coley.

MACREEDY
I always seem to be taking somebody's
place around here.

He gets up, with his chili, and sits down three stools
away.
Coley straddles the stool Macreedy has vacated. He
squirms
on it, his movements exaggerated. Now he spins to face
Smith.

COLEY
This seat ain't comfortable.

MACREEDY
I was afraid of that.

COLEY
I think I'd like the seat you're on.

SMITH
(to Macreedy, mildly)
He's as changeable as a prairie fire.

MACREEDY
(to Coley)
Suppose you tell me where to sit.

Coley opens his mouth but, realizing he has been

outmaneuvered, closes it again. The loafers in b.g. are
silent, watching. Sam, seemingly oblivious to Coley's
pressure
on Macreedy, places a bottle of ketchup in front of the
stranger. Coley gets up slowly and walks stiff-legged to
Macreedy. He takes the bottle of ketchup and, without
removing
the cap, upends it over Macreedy's plate. The cap is
drowned
in a deluge of ketchup which overflows the plate and runs
onto the counter.

COLEY
(to Macreedy)
I hope that ain't too much.

MACREEDY
 (to Smith, gesturing
toward Coley)
Your friend's a very [...] fellow.

SMITH
(nodding)
Sort of unpredictable, too. Got a
temper like a rattlesnake.

COLEY
That's me all over. I'm half hoss,
half alligator. Mess with me, I'll
kick a lung outta you. What do you
think of that?

MACREEDY
No comment.

COLEY
Talking to you is like pulling teeth.
You wear me out.
(loudly, after a beat)
You're a yellow-bellied Jap lover.
Am I right or wrong?

MACREEDY
You're not only wrong -- you're wrong
at the top of your voice.

COLEY
You don't like my voice?

MACREEDY
(again turning to
Smith)
I think your friend's trying to start
something.

SMITH
Now why-ever would he want to do
that?

MACREEDY
I don't know. Maybe he figures, needle
me enough and I'll crack. Maybe I'll
even fight back. Then he or Hector --
your other ape -- would beat me to
death and cop a plea of self-defense.

SMITH
I don't think that'll be necessary.
You're so scared now you'll probably
drown in your own sweat.

COLEY
Before that happens, couldn't I pick
 a fight with you if I tied one hand
behind me...?

Macreedy rises to go out. As he passes Coley, Coley takes

his limp left arm and spins him slowly but firmly around.
The two men face each other.

COLEY
If I tied both hands...?

Macreedy shakes free of Coley's grasp. Coley lunges. His

big
right fist streaks toward Macreedy's face. Macreedy
ducks,
weaving with the punch. He grabs Coley's belt, twisting
Coley's body. The momentum of the swing throws Coley off
balance. As he goes past Macreedy, the stranger tugs at
his
belt, twisting him to one side. He plants his left foot
firmly
on the toes of Coley's left boot, for a split second
anchoring
Coley in place. He chops the under side of his open hand
in
a short, vicious arc that lands solidly under Coley's
ear.
With the same motion, he brings the heel of his hand hard
against and slightly under the tip of Coley's nose. The
cartilage shatters. Blood spills down his face. Following
through, Macreedy's elbow smashes beneath Coley's
cheekbone.
Macreedy's arm goes past the astonished, wind-burned
face,
finding Coley's right wrist. He jerks the wrist out and
backward. It snaps. Coley whimpers, his face twisted in
pain
and perplexity. His body lolls forward. Macreedy steps
back.
He raises his right shoulder a few inches. His bent right
arm drives up like a piston attached to the shoulder's
lift.
Fist and arm seem all one rigid piece with only the
limber
shoulder giving them motion. The fist strikes Coley's
face,
covering for a moment one side of his chin and a corner
of
his mouth between cheekbone and jawbone. Coley shuts his
eyes and falls unconscious.

Smith, a puzzled expression on his face, watches Coley

fall.
He takes half a step toward him. Macreedy looks at Smith.
Smith stops. Macreedy's face is wooden, with a trace of
sullenness around the hard lines of his mouth. Working
methodically, Macreedy frisks Coley. He takes from a
pocket
a long, ugly knife. He snaps the spring and the four-inch
blade leaps into place. He looks at the knife in his hand
and then at Smith. He smiles gently, even dreamily.

MACREEDY
(to Smith)
Wouldn't it be easier if you just
waited till I turned my back?
(looking toward the
loafers at the bar,
then back at Smith)
Or are there too many witnesses
present?

Macreedy walks slowly toward him, holding the knife. The

are
only three feet apart. Smith's hand goes to a pocket,
closes
inside over the outline of a pistol. Sam glances from
Macreedy
to Smith to the unconscious Coley. He sidles toward the
door
and runs out fast. (NOTE: From this point to end of scene
INTERCUT from Macreedy and Smith to exploit the reactions
of
the loafers at the bar.)

SMITH
(with effortless
ferocity)
You're still in trouble.

MACREEDY
So are you.
(Smith snorts)
Whatever happens -- you're lost.

SMITH
You got things a bit twisted...

MACREEDY
You killed Komako. Sooner or later
you'll go up for it. Not because you
killed him -- in this town you
probably could have gotten away with
it -- but because you didn't even
have the guts to do it alone. You
put your trust in guys like him...
(gesturing toward the
unconscious Coley)
...and Hector -- they're not the
most dependable of God's creatures.
Sooner or later they'll get the idea
you're playing them for saps. What'll
you do then -- peel them off, one by
 one? And in the meantime if any one
of them breaks, you'll go down hard.
Because they got something on you.
Something to use when things get
tough.

With a quick motion, he tosses the knife to Smith. Smith

catches it.

MACREEDY
And they're getting tougher every
minute.

He walks past Smith and goes out the door. Self-

consciously
holding the knife, Smith turns to face the loafers at the
bar. They say nothing; they stare at him, through him,
like
a panel of ghouls. The door opens, admitting Sam and Doc,
who carries his little black medical bag. Doc looks at
Coley.

DOC
(softly, full of awe)
Man... man-oh-man.

He goes to Coley, bending down over him. Smith has

remained
motionless as a monument. Now he doubles shut the knife
in
his hand. He pockets it, and without even glancing at
Coley,
turns quickly and goes out.

QUICK
DISSOLVE:

INT. HOTEL LOBBY

Doc sits deep in the battered upholstery of one of the

chairs.
He stares fiercely across the room at Smith who is on the
couch, reading a neatly folded newspaper. Behind him at
the
clerk's desk, Pete is fitfully involved in a game of
solitaire. At the foot of the stairs Hector is pouring
change
into a slot machine. It whines, grinds, and clicks with
rhythmic monotony, but it never seems to pay off. In the
chair nearest Doc is Tim, with one of his boots off. He
works
hard and with some concentration, removing the other.
Then
he places them neatly at the foot of his chair. He
wiggles
his toes -- watching them with some interest.
 The wheeze and whir of the slot machine stops. The sudden
silence turns the eyes of the men toward Hector and the
one-
arm bandit. They follow his gaze up the steps.

STAIRWAY - MACREEDY

walks down, carrying his suitcase. He goes to Pete at the

clerk's desk.

MACREEDY
Anything for me?

PETE
Nothing.

MACREEDY
Any message -- a telegram?

PETE
(returning to his
cards)
Nothing.

As Macreedy turns from the desk, Doc joins him.

DOC
(to Macreedy, shrilly,
gruffly)
In case you're interested, Coley'll
live.
(glaring at Smith and
Hector)
I'm truly sorry to say.

Smith coolly continues to read his paper. It is Hector

who
turns toward Doc...

HECTOR
(to Doc, jerking a
fat hand toward
Macreedy)
Your friend's pretty tough.

DOC
Yeah. He's wicked. He defends himself
when he's attacked.

Macreedy ignores the exchange of words. He walks across

the
frayed carpet to the nearest chair and drops into it.
Doc,
who has followed him, stands looking down at Macreedy for
a
 long moment. Then...

DOC
(with some irritation)
Well...? You going to just sit here
and let time run out?

MACREEDY
I'm waiting for a wire. From the
state cops.

DOC
You sent it through Hastings?
(an audible sigh)
Just don't expect an answer, if that's
the way you sent it.

MACREEDY
(looking toward the
door)
No?
(he rises)

Doc follows his gaze as Hastings enters the lobby and

looks
around. He sees Macreedy coming toward him. He walks
rigidly
in an arc past Macreedy to Smith. He holds out a Postal
Telegraph form. Smith puts down his paper and takes it.
Macreedy, followed by Doc, goes over to Smith. Tim in his
stockinged feet joins them.

Smith scans the message. He looks up to meet Macreedy's

gaze.
Smith rises. Hector swaggers over from the slot machine.
Hastings slips around the back of the couch, protected by
the barricade of Hector's great body.

MACREEDY
(evenly, to Smith)
I think that's for me.
(he takes the message
from Smith's hand
and quickly glances
at it. Looking up at
Hastings)
Where's the answer?

Hastings is silent. A brittle expression of bemusement

crosses
Smith's features.

SMITH
You expect an answer -- to a wire
that's never sent?
 Macreedy's mouth compresses in a harsh grin.

SMITH
What's so funny?

MACREEDY
Nothing. Just a thought --
(his eyes turn to
Hastings. Hastings
wilts)
-- a thought dazzling in its purity...

Macreedy takes a step toward Hastings. The telegraph

agent
bounces away.

MACREEDY
(slowly)
You're in a jam, Hastings. You gave
my telegram to Smith.

DOC
(excitedly)
You warty wretch! That's a federal
offense!

MACREEDY
(to Smith)
You're in deep, too.
(grins hard)
Like I said, it's getting tougher
and tougher.
(to Tim)
Sheriff, you'd better do something
about this.

Tim hesitates, blinking his eyes worriedly, shifting from

one stockinged foot to the other. Smith watches him
insolently
as he takes the message from Macreedy and gestures with
it
vaguely...

TIM
(to Smith)
I reckon that's right, Mr. Smith...

HECTOR
Don't be a jerk, Tim.

TIM
(to Smith, seriously)
Divulging information -- there's a
law...

SMITH
 Tim, you're pathetic.

TIM
(doggedly)
Could be. But I'm still Sheriff.

SMITH
That's the point. You're not Sheriff
any more. You just lost a job, you're
so pathetic.

He reaches out, clawing the badge from Tim's chest. He

jabs
it on Hector's vest.

SMITH
(to Hector)
All right, Sheriff. Take over.

DOC
You can't do that!

SMITH
Can't I? I put him in office. Now I
take him out.

Hector moves his elephantine bulk within inches of

Macreedy...

HECTOR
Now. You want to register a complaint?

Macreedy doesn't answer. Hector takes the message from

Tim's
limp hand and tears it into little pieces.

HECTOR
To register a complaint, boy, you've
got to have evidence. You got
evidence?

Macreedy doesn't answer.

HECTOR
You got a big mouth, boy, makin'
accusations, disturbin' the peace.
There's laws in this county protectin'
innocent folks from big mouths. Why,
I'd just hate to...

SMITH
(interrupting)
Hector...
(wearily)
Come on, Hector.
 He walks out, the new Sheriff strutting beside him, with
Hastings in their wake. For a moment Macreedy, Doc and
Tim
stand in the center of the lobby. Pete eyes them non-
committally and goes back to his solitaire. He glances up
now and then, moving the cards with a purposeful sort of
slowness, as of a more natural swiftness restrained by
his
preoccupation with the three men in the lobby.

Macreedy is deep in thought. Abstractedly he tugs at his

collar and then repeats the ritual of lighting a
cigarette.
Tim's shoulders are slumped. Humiliation has corroded
him,
flesh and soul. Even Doc is momentarily subdued; he too,
feels degraded, unclean. Macreedy looks from one to the
other
of the good, ineffectual companions that circumstance has
so
haphazardly tossed his way. He takes a few steps to his
suitcase, Doc and Tim trailing him; Doc, for want of
something
better to do; Tim, out of his deep, inexpressible need
for
support. Macreedy takes an untapped bottle of whiskey
from
his bag. He thumbs the cork loose and holds the bottle
out
to Tim. Tim takes a drink.

The light on the clerk's desk goes on, and we are aware
that
day has gone and that night is falling. The pressing,
fierce
light has drained from the lobby, leaving a shadowy,
silvery
dreariness. The shadows have lengthened and the silver
has
tarnished with the darkness.

DOC
(hopefully)
It's all right, Tim. We're not licked
yet.

TIM
(numbly)
Ain't we? I am.

DOC
There comes a time, Tim, when a man's
just got to do something.

TIM
Not me. I'm useless, and I know it.
 DOC
(imploring)
No man is useless, if he's got a
friend...

Pete comes out from behind the desk, walking from one
lamp
in the lobby to another, turning them on.

DOC
I'm your friend, Tim.

TIM
Then let me alone.

He hands Doc the whiskey bottle.

DOC
(jabbing at Macreedy
with a thumb)
He's going to need you before the
night is over.

He downs a snort, then looks at Pete, who approaches

them.

DOC
(contemptuously)
And all the useful men are on the
other side.

As Pete turns on the lamp behind Doc, he reacts ever so

slightly to Doc's words. His almost imperceptible grimace
is
not lost on Macreedy. Macreedy watches the young man as
he
continues to light the lamps...

TIM
(angrily)
Lemme alone, I tell ya!

Doc slams the whiskey bottle down on a nearby table.

DOC
I can't let you alone! I can't let
myself alone! Don't you understand
that?
(he turns from Tim to
Pete, who is unable
to shake his gaze.
Then, sadly, fiercely)
Four years ago something terrible
happened here. We did nothing about
it. Nothing. The whole town fell
 into a sort of settled melancholy,
and the people in it closed their
eyes and held their tongues and failed
the test with a whimper.

Self-consciously Pete has backed off until now he leans

against the outside of the clerk's desk. But he still
can't
shut his ears to what Doc is saying...

DOC
Now something terrible is going to
happen again, and in a way we're
lucky because we've been given a
second chance. And this time I won't
close my eyes, I won't hold my tongue,
and if I'm needed I won't fail.
(almost harshly, again
facing Tim)
And neither will you!

Tim sighs, running a thick hand over his forehead...

TIM
I got such a headache, I'm bewildered.
I hurt all over.

MACREEDY
I know --
(unconsciously his
right arm strays to
massage the paralyzed
left)
-- pain is bewildering. I came here
bewildered, full of self-pity, afraid
to fight back.
(gesturing with his
hand to Pete)
And then your friend Smith tried to
kill me.
(the muscles around
Pete's mouth tighten)
Funny, how a man clings to the earth
when he feels there's a chance he
may never see it again.

DOC
There's a difference between clinging
to the earth...
(eyeing Tim almost
contemptuously)
...and crawling on it. You going to
stand by and watch forever?

TIM
(flatly)
 I ain't gonna watch, and I ain't
gonna get into it, either.

There is a moment of crashing silence. Then...

TIM
I'm gettin' out. I'm sorry, Mr.
Macreedy.

Slowly he lumbers out of the lobby. Doc watches him go.

Again
the benumbing silence, cut finally, unexpectedly by...

PETE
(to Doc)
You'd be smart to get out, too.

DOC
(angrily turning to
Pete)
There's too many smart guys around
here. I'm glad I'm a dummy.

PETE
You're a troublesome dummy. You're
liable to end up on your own slab...

DOC
(heatedly)
I expect to be in a lot more trouble
before I die...

PETE
Go home, Doc.
(he jerks his head
toward Macreedy, and
with mock bravado...)
He's all washed up.

MACREEDY
(grinning harshly at
him)
You think so?

His right hand closes over the neck of the whiskey bottle
on
the end table. Abstractedly fingering it, he walks with
tense,
deliberate steps toward Pete at the desk.

MACREEDY
I was washed up when I got off that
train...

He continues to advance inexorably toward Pete.

 PETE
(flatly)
You shouldn' of got off.

MACREEDY
Had to. I had one last duty to perform
before I resigned from the human
race.

DOC
(quizzically)
I thought you were going to Los
Angeles, that hot-bed of pomp and
vanity. Is that resigning from the
human race?

MACREEDY
(shrugging)
L.A.'s a good jumping off place --
for the Islands, for Mexico, Central
America.

DOC
Why?

MACREEDY
(again shrugs)
I don't know. I was looking for a
place to get lost, I guess.

DOC
Why?

MACREEDY
(slapping his paralyzed
arm with the whisky
bottle)
Because of this. I thought I'd never
be able to function again.
(turning to Pete)
Thanks to your friend Smith, I found
I was wrong.

He is now within a couple of yards of Pete.

PETE
(drily)
Sure. You're a man of action.

MACREEDY
(slowly)
I know your problem.
(with mounting vigor)
You'd like me to die quickly, without
wasting too much of your time...
(Pete opens his mouth
 to say something,
but Macreedy presses
on)
...or silently, without making you
feel too uncomfortable... or
thankfully, without making your
memories of the occasion too
unpleasant.

For a moment Pete stares at Macreedy, terribly disturbed

by
the incisiveness of Macreedy's analysis. Then...

PETE
(bitterly)
My memories are so pleasant as it
is...

In sudden frustration, Pete grabs the deck of cards on

the
clerk's desk and slams them down hard. They scatter. He
turns,
stares blankly [...] between Doc and Macreedy.

MACREEDY
(quietly pressing his
advantage)
What happened, Pete?

Pete doesn't answer.

DOC
Are you going to tell him -- or you
want me to?
(beat)
Smith owns Adobe Flat. He leased it
to Komako -- thought he had cheated
him, thought Komako could never even
run stock without water. There was
never any water on Adobe Flat. Komako
dug a well, by hand. He must have
went down one hundred and fifty feet.

PETE
He got water, plenty. Smith was pretty
sore. He didn't like Japs anyway.

DOC
That's an understatement.

PETE
The day after Pearl Harbor, Smith
went to Sand City.

MACREEDY
(interrupting)
 I know. To enlist. He was turned
down.

PETE
He was sore when he got back. About
ten o'clock he started drinking.

MACREEDY
Ten o'clock in the morning.

PETE
Yeah. Hector joined him, and Coley.
Then Sam, and about nine p.m. -- me.
We were all drunk -- patriotic drunk.
We went out to Komako's for a little
fun, I guess -- scare him a little.

MACREEDY
Did you know him?

PETE
We'd seen him around some, but none
of us knew him. When he heard us
coming, he locked the door. Smith
started a fire. The Jap came running
out. His clothes were burning. Smith
shot him. I didn't even know Smith
had a gun.

MACREEDY
Then you all got scared, buried him,
kept quiet.

Pete nods helplessly, bowing his head. Macreedy sighs,

looks
down at the bottle in his hand, slowly puts it on the
table...

MACREEDY
(softly)
Did Komako have any family besides
his son Joe?

DOC
(puzzled)
His son...? Nobody around here knew
he had a son.

MACREEDY
He had one. But he's dead, too. He's
buried in Italy.

DOC
What are you doing here, Mr. Macreedy?

MACREEDY
 Joe Komako died in Italy, saving my
life. They gave him a medal. I came
here to give it to his father.

Silence. Doc, realizing the enormity of Macreedy's

admission,
frowns, rubs a hand across his tired eyes. Pete looks at
Macreedy for a long, shocked moment. He shivers.

PETE
(awfully)
God forgive me...

He takes the bottle from the table and shakily pours a

shot
glass of liquor. As he raises it to his mouth...

MACREEDY
(to Pete, harshly
guttural)
It'll take a lot of whiskey to wash
out your guts...

Pete is motionless, holding the glass inches from his

lips,
hypnotized by Macreedy's voice, as hard and as cold as
his
eyes...

MACREEDY
...And it will never help -- not
even a barrel full washes away murder!

Macreedy's hand shoots out, in a short, inexorable arc,

smashing his palm across the shot glass. The whiskey
bursts
in a spray, the glass flies halfway across the room,
shattering as it lands against something solid. Pete is
stunned, Doc perplexed, at Macreedy's violence. They
stare
at him...

Macreedy's eyes are murky. The creases between the brows

over his nose are deep. His nostrils move in and out with
his breathing. Pete and Doc regard him with growing
uneasiness. Rage comes into Macreedy's face, turning it a
painful red.

MACREEDY
But maybe I'm wrong. Go on -- drink.
(scornfully)
What else is left for you?!
(mounting anger)
You're as dead as Komako, only you
don't know it!
(roaring)
 You also don't know that it's not
enough to feel guilty. It's not enough
to confess. It's not enough to say,
"Forgive me, I've done wrong."

DOC
Take it easy, Macreedy. Sit down.

MACREEDY
(turning on him)
Sit down?! Or would you rather have
me kneel, to beg his pardon for
raising a touchy subject?

Pete squirms under Macreedy's relentless attack.

PETE
(shaking his head)
You don't have to remind me. I've
never forgotten...

MACREEDY
Well, that's mighty noble of you.
You feel ashamed -- that's noble,
too.
(in mounting crescendo)
And four years from now you'll
probably be sitting here telling
somebody else you haven't forgotten
me. That's progress -- you'll still
be ashamed but I'll be dead.

Macreedy grabs the bottle, shoving it across the table

toward
Pete.

MACREEDY
Go on, have your drink.
(with exorbitant scorn)
You need it.

Pete pushes the bottle aside, too ravaged by Macreedy's

words
and his own thoughts to drink. He shakes his head grimly
and
then, with sudden decision, goes to the switchboard and
plugs
in a line.

DOC
(leaning over counter,
staring at him)
What are you doing?

PETE
(into phone, ignoring
 Doc)
Hello, Liz. Now listen... I... 'm
getting Macreedy out of town...

ANOTHER ANGLE - MACREEDY AND DOC

as they exchange a glance. Doc takes a long, deep breath

of
relief. Macreedy frowns thoughtfully. He strains to
listen
to Liz, but all he (and we) can hear is the staccato
jumble
of her words over the wire.

WIDER ANGLE - FAVORING PETE

he cuts Liz short...

PETE
(into phone)
I don't care about Smith! Let him
try to kill me -- I might as well be
dead as...

Again Liz's voice incoherent over the phone, and again...

PETE
(into phone,
interrupting)
Liz, Liz... There's not much of me
left any more, but however little it
is I won't waste it!
(again Liz's voice
briefly; then...)
I'm telling you because we need your
help.
(again Liz's voice)
...No matter about the past -- you've
got to do this! You'd be saving two
lives, Liz. Macreedy's, and mine.
(again Liz answers
and...)
All right. Yeah... I've told him
everything.

Slowly he replaces the phone on the switch-board. He

comes
around from behind the desk, joining Macreedy and Doc.

PETE
(flatly)
She'll be here in five minutes.

MACREEDY
Thanks, Pete. Thanks very much.
 DISSOLVE
TO:

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - PETE, HECTOR AND DOC - NIGHT

Pete and Doc are nervously alert, drained of energy,

waiting.
Hector is downright bored. He toys with his pistol,
squinting
at it, twirling the barrel. Finding neither interest nor
pleasure in the piece, he jams it back in his holster and
strolls with exaggerated surety out on the porch.

EXT. PORCH - NIGHT

The congregation of loafers look up as Hector emerges.

Imbued
with his own bullying importance, he draws the pistol,
maneuvers an extravagant pinwheel and a few other gaudy
tricks. Then he sighs as boredom again takes over. He
walks
down the steps to catch a bit of air.

INT. LOBBY - DOC AND PETE

The disappearance of Hector (o.s.) down the street

galvanizes
them into action. They hurry out of the lobby toward the
back of the hotel.

EXT. ALLEY - BEHIND HOTEL - NIGHT

Vague in the pallid light escaping through a few back

windows.
The hotel's rear door is tightly shut. Around the far
corner
of the street (extreme b.g.) comes the gangling body of
Hector
David. He walks toward CAMERA. Perhaps twenty-five yards
away he stops to rest against a fence like a leaning
tower.

CLOSE SHOT - HECTOR

His hand goes to a pocket and comes out with a crumpled

half
pack of cigarettes. Suddenly the movement is arrested;
something at the other end of the street captures his
bleak
attention.

WHAT HE SEES

A jeep, headlights off, slowly turns the corner, pulls up

to
the curb and parks.
 BACK TO SCENE - HECTOR

pockets his cigarettes and starts slowly for the jeep, a

quizzical frown on his horsy face. He approaches the back
door of the hotel, oblivious to it as he continues toward
the jeep.

INT. REAR HALLWAY OF HOTEL - NIGHT

At the far end b.g., toward the lobby, a single unshaded

light bulb burns dully. A slight figure stands in f.g. To
one side is a narrow U-shaped alcove blanketed in heavy
shadows. The features of the man in the hall and the slim
lines of his body blend vaguely in the darkness. With
enormous
care, he turns a knob and opens the door leading to the
alley
behind the hotel. Light thrown by the back windows
reveals
that the figure is Pete. The same pallid light from the
alley,
glancing across the alcove, momentarily illuminates it.
Glued
as close to the recessed wall as is humanly possible is
Doc.
He is partially shielded by one of those hotel hose
wheels
around which an old fire hose is wound. The heavy brass
nozzle
of the hose hangs from the end.

Doc grips a twelve-inch length of lead pipe. Pete

swallows
nervously and peers outside, first to the right, then to
the
left. His eyes glaze with fear, and his jaw tightens with
tension.

EXT. ALLEY - ANOTHER ANGLE - FAVORING PETE

as he stares at Hector walking toward the jeep.

PETE
(controlling his
jangled nerves)
Hector!

Hector stops, turns to face Pete. He hesitates, then...

HECTOR
Hmmmm?

Then, with a final glance at the jeep, Hector lumbers to

Pete, who disappears inside the hallway.
 INT. REAR HALLWAY

as Hector enters and stops. Pete quickly closes the door

behind him and walks toward the lobby, attempting to draw
Hector toward the black alcove center screen b.g. But
Hector
is not to be sucked in. He glares at Pete, waiting.
(NOTE:
The following dialogue is delivered sotto voce.)

HECTOR
What you want?

PETE
He's still in his room. Macreedy, I
mean.

HECTOR
So...? You want me to tuck him in?

PETE
I thought maybe you wanted to tell
Smith.

HECTOR
(explaining something
he feels Pete already
knows)
Smith said he'd be here at midnight.
He don't want to be disturbed.

He jams a cigarette in his mouth. Pete watches him

frantically
as he searches his pockets for a match. He can't find
one.

HECTOR
You got a match?

PETE
Come on. I got some in the lobby.

He starts to turn. Hector's pig eyes are slits of

suspicion.
Before Pete can move, Hector reaches out, hooking two
heavy
fingers inside a pocket of Pete's shirt. Slowly Hector's
expression changes to one of insidious cunning. His
fingers
come out of Pete's pocket, and between them is a paper
book
of matches.

HECTOR
I thought you didn't have a match.
 Pete is unable to answer. He is scared to death.

INT. ALCOVE - DOC

sweating with frustration. Hector is six feet away, and

armed --
too far away for Doc to risk an attack with his lead
pipe.
Doc looks around vaguely, wildly, for another weapon. A
fraction of an inch from his nose is the hose wheel. For
a
split second he hesitates. Then slowly, with infinite
care,
he tightens the heavy brass nozzle and begins to unwind
the
hose.

INT. REAR HALLWAY

Now Hector is alert. He studies Pete's twitching face.

Elaborately he tears a match from the pack and scratches
it.
It takes fire, cupped in the rampart of his big hands. It
lights up the hall, and as Hector looks around he sees
something through a mirror -- over his shoulder and six
feet
away Doc materializes out of the shadows of the alcove.
As
Hector whirls, going for his gun, Doc swings the hose
with
sudden deadly aim. It uncoils like a snake, and the brass
nozzle crashes with a mighty thud across Hector's skull.
Hector groans. He sinks unconscious to the floor. Doc
stands
there, paralyzed by his action. Pete tears toward the
lobby.

INT. LOBBY

as Pete rushes in. He moves directly to the desk, leans

over
and presses the buzzer behind the desk three times. He
turns
and runs back toward the rear of the building.

INT. REAR STAIRS

as Macreedy barrels down. He pauses briefly in the hall

as
he sees Doc still standing with the hose and the nozzle
dangling like a pendulum from his hand. Their eyes lock
briefly in understanding...

MACREEDY
(with a half smile)
I'll never forgive you, Doc...
 (he gestures toward
Hector, out cold)
...for depriving me of that pleasure.

He heads toward the alley.

EXT. ALLEY

as Macreedy rushes out. He pauses, looking quickly right,

then left. He sees a jeep parked at the curb far down the
street. He runs toward it. The jeep, its headlights off,
starts for him. He swings onto the moving vehicle,
falling
heavily into the seat beside Liz Brooks. He slumps there,
breathing heavily as the jeep, with a grinding of gears,
cuts through the night, picking up speed.

INT. REAR HALLWAY

as Pete joins Doc. Silently, motionlessly, the two men

stare
for a long moment at Hector -- particularly at the pistol
lying beside him. Then they look at each other, and the
same
thought seems to flash in their minds...

QUICK
DISSOLVE:

EXT. ROAD - MACREEDY AND LIZ

as they speed down the long empty ribbon of road. Liz

drives
hard. Macreedy turns in the bucket seat, looking back
toward
Black Rock.

LIZ
Sorry I can't get more out of this
heap.

Macreedy does not answer.

LIZ
(with a burst of
irritation)
We could make better time with a dog
team.

MACREEDY
(calmly)
You're doing the best you can.
(a beat)
Aren't you, Liz?

LIZ
 Don't expect too much from me.

MACREEDY
(dryly)
Don't worry, I won't.

LIZ
(quickly)
I mean, people have always expected
things from me. You know why? Because
I'm pretty. Well, that's not enough.

MED. SHOT - JEEP

with Liz and Macreedy as she cuts sharply into a

crossroad.
She drives skillfully over the knotty road which is
little
more than a trail. Her lovely features are distorted with
her discontent and the ache for attention. After a moment
she gives voice to her fantasy...

LIZ
(softly)
Maybe I could have been something --
a model, or something.
(glancing at him)
You don't believe that.

MACREEDY
Yes I do.

LIZ
Well, I don't, really. I'm a dime a
dozen.

MACREEDY
That I don't believe.

LIZ
I'm too little and too late.

MACREEDY
It's never too late.

LIZ
I lack the muscle.

MACREEDY
(frowning)
Why is muscle so important?

LIZ
(cynically)
Oh, you're the brainy type.
(harshly)
 Did it take brains to rough up Coley?
Whatever you did to Hector, you didn't
do it with brains. How'd you get
Pete to change his mind?

MACREEDY
Not with muscle.

LIZ
And not with brains, either. He's a
pushover for a muscle man.

MACREEDY
I'm beginning' to think it runs in
the family.
(looking at her hard)
You think strength is in the width
of a man's shoulders.

He does not catch the glance she darts him; his extreme
awareness is anchored not to the girl at his side but to
the
terrain ahead.

LIZ
I'd sure have liked to see you tangle
with Reno Smith.

MACREEDY
He wasn't around when I left... Maybe
I will yet.

His eyes strain to sweep the country -- each boulder,

each
outcropping, each stunted tree. But substance and shadow
are
blurred and fuzzy in the dark night, black on black.

OUT

Sequence omitted from original script.

ANOTHER ANGLE - JEEP

with Macreedy and Liz as it winds to the far end of the

boulders on a trail that drops off into a flat basin.
Solid
forms loom up in the darkness; they are unrecognizable,
yet
Macreedy senses some tense familiarity with the
terrain...
He frowns. Suddenly Liz brakes the jeep -- so sharply
Macreedy
lurches forward in the seat.

MACREEDY
 (alert, expectant)
What's this?

LIZ
(vamping nervously)
We need water...
(she turns off engine,
pulling ignition key
from its lock)
...radiator's overheating.

She moves away from Macreedy to get out of the jeep. He

reaches across quickly, gripping her arm. She turns to
face
him, disturbed by his hardness of jaw and eye...

LIZ
Leggo! Leggo of me!

Suddenly they are hit by a blinding pair of headlights

like
[...] The beams cut jaggedly through the night, throwing
into sharp immediate relief the lava rocks, the broken
windmill, the gutted house, the litter-strewn, unmarked
grave
at Adobe Flat.

Liz throws away the ignition key. Macreedy bails out of

the
jeep, still holding the girl.

CLOSE TWO SHOT - LIZ AND MACREEDY

as they fall to the earth. Macreedy pins her down. Then

in
quick succession, four emphatically loud SHOTS from a
rifle
squirt into the shale around them.

MACREEDY
(harshly, through his
teeth)
You're stupid, Liz. You're a fool.
If he finishes me, he's got to finish
you.

He looks up blindly into the headlights glaring from the

granitic high ground some 60 yards away. His grip on the
girl's shoulder is like a steel trap. He pushes her down
beside Komako's grave, hugging the side of the jeep as a
SHOT rips the gravel at their feet. Pulling the girl with
him, he takes cover in the slight concavity of the grave.
The jeep is between them and the headlights -- between
them
and the source of the gunfire. Liz struggles to break
away.
 Suddenly bullets kick up a storm around him. A bullet
smashes
into the flowers, exploding tiny cruel fragments of dirt
into Macreedy's face. He gasps in pain, releasing Liz. He
rubs his eyes as if to convince himself that he is not
blind.
Liz breaks from the grave. Now, five yards from
Macreedy...

LIZ
(calling toward the
headlights)
Smitty! Smitty!

SMITH'S VOICE
(o.s.)
I'm here, honey. Just head for the
car.

Liz half turns, facing Macreedy with a vicious smile...

LIZ
(an almost bantering
voice)
So long, Macreedy.

She starts toward the headlights.

GO WITH LIZ

She reaches the foot of the rocky ridge, with the two
enormous
eyes on top. She begins to climb, up... up...

SMITH
(o.s.)
Just a few more steps, honey.

She is almost at the top; a vertically sheer rock about

five
feet high separates her from it. She looks up at Smith,
towering over her at the edge of the precipice. He holds
his
rifle almost languorously.

LIZ
(breathlessly)
Get him! Get him now!

SMITH
(easily)
First things first, honey.

The girl is frightened by the menace in Smith's voice.

LIZ
 (unsure, reaching out
her hand)
Help me up, Smitty.

SMITH
You were going to help me, Liz.
(she looks at him
quizzically)
I still need your help.

LIZ
(confused)
I did what you said...

SMITH
You two started out in a car. That's
the way you'll end up. Over a cliff,
burning.
(she tries to interrupt
him, but he goes
on...)
You can blame that on Macreedy, too.
He said I had too many witnesses.

LIZ
(dry whisper)
But why me? Why start with me?

SMITH
I got to start with somebody.

He brings the rifle down, aiming almost casually at Liz.

Her
eyes go wide. She steps back, spins around, running
crazily
down the steep incline.

LIZ
(yelling wildly)
Macreedy! Macreedy!

A SHOT rings out. She falls forward, rolling slowly down

the
embankment. She lies there. Blood trickles from the
corner
of her pretty mouth. A rattling noise rises from deep in
her
throat, and then subsides.

In the silence the outline of Reno Smith emerges. Holding

his rifle at the ready, his silhouette illuminated
sharply
in the twin beams of light, he climbs down the side of
the
cliff. He looks toward the jeep and Macreedy, not once at
the girl at his feet.
 LIZ
(sadly, almost
reproachfully)
You shouldn't have done that...

Smith pays no attention to her. He advances inexorably

with
rifle held at his hip. He fires at Macreedy.

EXT. GRAVE

Macreedy wipes the last of the fragments from his eyes.

His
face is still streaked with dirt and shale. He turns,
searching for something, anything, to fight back with.
Then
he remembers... Stiffening, his body set, his eyes
narrow,
he moves purposefully toward the front of the jeep and
crawls
under it. Again Smith opens up on him. Bullet after
bullet
pours into the confined space, nicking the wall,
ricocheting
off the jeep with a frightening, fluttery, wheezing
sound.
The firing stops again and in the silence we HEAR a
familiar
TRICKLE, as in running water...

EXT. RANCH - SMITH

re-loads his rifle. Stiffly, he starts slowly down over

the
rocks toward his unarmed victim...

MACREEDY

He has unscrewed the nut and unconnected the gas line

with
the carburator. A spurt of gasoline is running out. With
a
quick motion he picks up an empty whisky bottle from the
litter-strewn earth. He fills it with gasoline, quickly
screws
the nut back on. Now he sweeps his necktie free of his
collar.
Holding it with his teeth, he tears the felt lining free
from its silk face. He twists half the lining inside the
bottle, knotting the other end securely around the
bottle's
neck, leaving a long strand dangling.

EXT. RANCH - CLOSE SHOT - SMITH

 moving rigidly toward the hole. He stops, levels his
rifle,
fires.

EXT. GRAVE - MACREEDY

pinned down in the direct line of fire. The burst of the

rifle stops.

EXT. RANCH - SMITH

not more than twenty-five yards away, advancing

carefully,
rifle at the ready.

EXT. GRAVE - MACREEDY

lights a match, placing the flame to the dangling end of

the
tie. It catches. He flings himself to his feet and with
the
same motion whips the fiery bottle like a football, hard
and
straight toward Smith. Smith fires once, fast and wild.
The
bottle crashes against the rocks at his feet and bursts
with
a shattering explosion. Smith screams as the razor-sharp
slivers rip his flesh. In a puff of flame, his clothes
ignite.
He drops the rifle and goes down, squirming frantically
on
the black ashy ground.

EXT. RANCH - FULL SHOT

favoring Macreedy as he tears out of the hole. He hurls

himself at Smith. Wooden-faced, almost dreamy-eyed, he
shovels
the ashy dirt over Smith's prone chest, putting out the
fire.
Smith struggles halfway to his feet. Macreedy grabs his
shoulder, helping him up. Smith looks at Macreedy through
eyes bleary with fear and pain and shock.

SMITH
(through his teeth)
Go ahead -- kill me. Now.

MACREEDY
I'd like to kill you now, but you
caused too much pain to die quickly.
(a beat)
You'll be tried in a court of law.
You'll be convicted by a jury. Then
you'll die.
 He drives his right fist against Smith's chin. Smith's
head
snaps back as far as it can go and then wobbles to rest
on
his chest. He collapses. Macreedy blows out his breath
hard.
He staggers to Liz. As he bends over her...

DISSOL
VE:

EXT. BLACK ROCK - DAY (DAWN)

Liz's jeep, driven by Macreedy, rolls slowly down the

empty
main street of the sleeping town. Behind him, under a
tarp,
the body of the girl lies lifeless across the seat. On
the
seat beside him is Smith's rifle, the balance a few
inches
from Macreedy's elbow. On the right front fender of the
jeep
Smith sits precariously, his shirt scorched and ragged.
He
wears a sullen expression of pained indifference.

In b.g., as the jeep passes, isolated lights go on, first

in
Doc's house, then in two or three others. Macreedy is
oblivious to them.

EXT. JAIL - CLOSE SHOT - A MAN

almost completely hidden, looks out grimly from a corner

of
the jail window. Protruding through the bars, swiveling
to
follow the progress of the jeep down the street, is the
long,
ugly muzzle of a rifle.

EXT. MAIN STREET - JEEP

as Macreedy pulls up to the curb in front of the jail and

cuts the ignition. He grabs the rifle, and steps around
to
Smith.

MACREEDY
(tonelessly, prodding
Smith off the fender
with his rifle)
Hands behind your head.
 Smith complies.

EXT. JAIL

as Macreedy marches Smith up the steps. The jail door

opens.
A man emerges, wearing a Mackinaw over his vest and
carrying
a rifle. It is Tim. For a moment Macreedy eyes him in
silence.
His gun finger tightens on the rifle in his hand. Tim's
rifle,
too, is at the ready...

MACREEDY
(after a beat)
Am I going to have trouble with you?

TIM
Nope. But I sure thought the situation
was going to be like reversed. I
thought I was going to have trouble...
(nodding sharply in
Smith's direction)
...with him. I'll take care of him.

MACREEDY
(still hesitating)
Just as you took care of his buddies?

TIM
Just as I took care of his buddies.
Me, an' Doc, and Pete...

The SOUND of running feet padding along the dirt road

increases on SOUND TRACK. Macreedy turns slightly, to see
Doc huffing toward him. The older man climbs the jail
steps
and comes to an abrupt halt, his eyes going from one to
the
other of the two men in the stand-off.

DOC
(to Macreedy)
It's all right, Macreedy...

He pulls Tim's Mackinaw to one side, revealing the

silver-
plated star pinned at the breast.

DOC
Old Tim here's got his badge back.

Macreedy swings his rifle from Tim to Smith. Tim lowers

his,
stepping to one side, allowing Smith, covered by
Macreedy,
to enter the jail. He goes in, Doc following. Pete sits
silently at Tim's desk.

INT. JAIL

In one of the two cells are Coley and Hector. In the

other,
Sam and Hastings.

MACREEDY
(looking around)
Well. The gang is all here.

TIM
I thought I'd take one last whack at
my job. Even if Smith killed me for
it.

MACREEDY
(jerking his head
toward Smith)
Put him in with Hastings.

Tim turns his key in the cell door. Macreedy tiredly goes
to
Pete at the desk.

MACREEDY
Your sister's outside, Pete.

Pete rises. Macreedy halts him momentarily, gripping his

arm...

MACREEDY
(flatly)
She's dead.

Pete walks dazedly out the door. Tim grabs Smith's

shoulder
and propels him roughly through the cell door. He slams
it
hard. As the clatter of the iron door reverberates
harshly...

DISSOL
VE:

EXT. HOTEL - BLACK ROCK - DAY

The townspeople, with Doc f.g., are gathered silently in

the
street, staring sadly, dumbly at the hotel before them.
Doc
wears a dark business suit, neat and conservative. The
door
 opens (o.s.) and the people look up, their eyes lighting
with expectancy.

WHAT THEY SEE

Macreedy comes out of the door, carrying his suitcase.

For a
moment he pauses, looking at the uplifted faces of the
people
in the street. In the distance we HEAR the horn of a
stream-
liner. Macreedy goes down the steps, skirts the watching
crowd and heads for the railroad station. Almost
immediately
Doc falls in step with him. The townspeople, still
silent,
trail after them

MOVING SHOT - MACREEDY AND DOC

in f.g., the townspeople behind them. In b.g., as we

pass,
we see the main street just as we saw it when Macreedy
entered
town a few short hours ago.

MACREEDY
(walking, after a
beat, to Doc)
Tim knows where to find me if I'm
needed.

Doc nods. He blinks and frowns...

MACREEDY
What's on your mind, Doc?

DOC
Nothing. Only... about that medal.
Can we have it?

MACREEDY
"We...?" Can who have it?

DOC
We.
(indicating the
townspeople, with a
vague wave of his
hand)
Us.

MACREEDY
Why?

DOC
 Well, we need it, I guess. It's
something we can maybe build on.
This town is wrecked, just as bad as
if it was bombed out. Maybe it can
come back...

MACREEDY
Some towns come back. Some don't. It
depends on the people.

A NOISE o.s. attracts Macreedy's attention. He turns, as

do
Doc and the townsmen.

WHAT THEY SEE

In front of the jail, each of them handcuffed, are Smith,

Coley, Hector, Sam and Hastings. Tim and four cops escort
them to two State Police cars which are parked beside
Tim's
old sedan and another car (presumably belonging to a
member
of the press). The newspaperman (WITHOUT A PRESS CARD IN
HIS
HAT) stands to one side with Pete. Pete as well as Tim
have
changed clothes; they look clean and trim. Coley has his
arm
in a sling. Hector's hat hides the bandage on his head.

BACK TO SCENE

Macreedy resumes walking toward the abandoned station,

with
Doc at his side and the people behind him. The train
pulls
in.

DOC
(still pressing)
That medal would help.

Macreedy is silent. He walks on, to the platform. He

pauses,
looking at the people silently in his wake and then at
Doc.
He takes a black velvet-covered box from his pocket --
the
box containing the medal -- looks at it, and slowly hands
it
to Doc.

DOC
Thanks, Macreedy. Thanks for
everything.
 Macreedy turns and exits from SHOT. The people look after
him.

EXT. PLATFORM

as Macreedy boards the train.

EXT. STREET

The cars in front of the jail U-turn and start off with
the
prisoners. The people move silently toward the train.

EXT. TRAIN

Macreedy is at the passageway. Slowly the train moves

out.

INT. PASSAGEWAY OF TRAIN

Macreedy and a conductor stand at the doorway. The town

is
seen behind them and the people standing there. In the
distance, Tim's car recedes.

CONDUCTOR
(curiously)
What's the excitement? What happened?

MACREEDY
A shooting.

CONDUCTOR
I knew it was something. First time
a streamliner stopped here in four
years.

MACREEDY
Second time.

He walks into the train.

LONG SHOT - TRAIN

gathering speed, diminishing, far, far into the horizon.

FADE
OUT:

THE END

NOTES

Note from page [9]: (1) The sign should be of whatever

type
is feasible and compatible to terrain, emphasizing the
 remoteness of Black Rock. It should list three cities
with
arrows pointing in the proper directions:

SAND CITY 32 MILES

PHOENIX 156 MILES

Bad Day at Black Rock

Writers : Don McGuire Millard Kaufman Howard Breslin

Genres : Drama Thriller Western

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