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Someone To Watch Over Me Movie Script

Writer(s) : Howard Franklin, Danilo Bach, David Seltzer

Genres : Action, Crime, Drama, Thriller

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                  SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME


                             by

                      Howard Franklin

                        Danilo Bach

                       David Seltzer



                  Revisions by Danilo Bach
















                                          REVISED

                                          December 4, 1986






FADE IN:

INT.  MIKE'S HOUSE - QUEENS - EARLY EVENING

Winter.  A celebration.  Close friends, cop friends,
family all here to celebrate patrolman MIKE KEEGAN'S
promotion to detective, NYPD.

The party spills through the house -- front room, dining
room, kitchen, with a small fenced backyard visible beyond
that.  A community of cops on their off-hours, their
wives, kids.  A mix of generations, all the way from
MIKE'S kid, TOMMY, and his FRIENDS, playing among the
adults, to an elderly woman observing quietly from her
chair at the side.  The mood's warm, spirited; there's a
lot of friendship here.

ANGLE:  MIKE, in the dining room, posing for a photo with
his ten-year-old son, TOMMY, proudly displaying his new
gold detective's SHIELD pinned to his jersey.

                         MIKE
                  (calling to his
                   wife, for a family
                   portrait)
          Ellie!  C'mon!  Over here!

ANGLE:  ELLIE, MIKE'S wife of fifteen years, a local
product, bright and lively, and clearly proud as hell of
her man.  She frees herself from the crush of friends,
hurrying to join him.

ANGLE:  MIKE, ELLIE giving him a full-mouthed smack on the
lips as he hooks her into his arms.

The picture's snapped, to a chorus of hoots and hollers.
Behind, a banner and poster blowup of Mike in gun and
uniform read:  "FINALLY THEY'VE RECOGNIZED YOU, DETECTIVE
KEEGAN."

SCOTTY, a patrolman with the 117th and one of MIKE'S best
pals, puts his hand vigorously, in congratulations, on
MIKE'S SHOULDER.

                         SCOTTY
                  (to Mike)
          No joke?  You're being transferred
          to the 19th as your first
          assignment?  Who the hell loves your
          ass downtown?

                         ROOKIE
                  (naively)
          What's the 21st?

BROOKLYN, a cop about Mike's age, joins in.

                         SCOTTY
          What d'you care?  You'll never know.

                         BROOKLYN
          Manhattan.  The Upper East Side,
          East 59th to 96th.

The ROOKIE stares, impressed.

                         SCOTTY
                  (to the others)
          Remember Curran from the Sixteenth?
          He posted a coupla months there on a
          floater outside the French embassy.
          He met Jackie Kennedy.

                         BROOKLYN
          Curran, that fuckin' noodlehead.  He
          probably wrote her up for letting
          her dog dump on Rockefeller's
          doorstep.

ANGLE ON MIKE, trying to swallow a mouthful of potato
salad as a plump and pretty middle-aged woman (HELEN
GREENING) pulls him into a bear hug, planting a kiss on
him.

                         HELEN
          Mmmmmm-glimmmeee-kisss!  I'm so
          proud of you!  What the hell took
          you so long?

                         MIKE
          Hey, don't ask me.  Ask the man who
          put in the good word.

ANGLE ON T.J. GREENING, Helen's husband, Mike's best
friend.  He's forty, stocky, looks up, horsing around with
some of the kids in the next room.

                         MIKE
          If T.J. didn't push for me, I never
          would've made it.

                         BROOKLYN
          Bet your ass... I give you six weeks
          before you're back on the beat,
          Keegan, they got no room for hero
          cops...

                         MIKE
          Appreciate, that vote of confidence,
          Brook.

                         BROOKLYN
          Hey, am I supportive, or what?

ANGLE ON TOMMY:  in the hallway, trying to show SCOTTY'S
date -- a "real" BIMBO, who's spilling out of her woolly
sweater and tight jeans -- how to stand on his SKATEBOARD.
She shrieks a laugh, toppling off.  HELEN, passing by with
an empty platter, catches the action.


INT.  KITCHEN - SAME

ELLIE, another WIFE at the sink, wives all; HELEN enters.

                         HELEN
          He left Elaine for that?

                         WIFE #1
          And what about little Scotty?

ELLIE continues washing the dishes as HELEN and the WIFE
dry.  MIKE enters to get more beers.

                         HELEN
                  (still staring)
          I'd like to tie her tits together.

                         ELLIE
          That wouldn't be too difficult.

                         MIKE
                  (overhearing)
          I bet you think she doesn't have a
          brain in her head.  I bet you think
          the only thing he sees in her is one
          incredible, dynamite body...

He GRINS at their blank stares... ELLIE'S EYES wryly
following... as he moves on out with his beers.

                         HELEN
          I love your husband, Ellie, but he's
          a real dork.

                         ELLIE
          Yeah, but he's my dork.

                                            DISSOLVE TO:

INT.  MIKE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Night has descended, PEOPLE talking and laughing quietly,
MELLOW music is playing -- CAMERA FINDING MIKE AND ELLIE,
dancing close, moving sensually.  It's impressive.  HELEN
convinces T.J. to DANCE.  SCOTTY and BIMBO join in too.
T.J., whipped, extricates himself and Helen; tousling
Mike's hair in affection.

                         T.J.
          We're goin'.  Get some sleep,
          Detective Keegan.  You got a new job
          tomorrow.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  HALLWAY - NIGHT

MIKE is holding TOMMY asleep on his shoulder.

ELLIE appears, completing the family portrait.

                         MIKE
                  (a whisper)
          Think I should put the skateboard in
          bed with him?

                         ELLIE
          Too kinky.

MIKE smiles and climbs the stairs.


INT.  MIKE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

ELLIE in the bathroom, the door open, she brushes her
hair.

MIKE in bed, thoughtful, a happy man.

                         MIKE
          Ellie, you know I think it's about
          time we got outa this place, get us
          a house of our own.  We can afford
          it now.

                         ELLIE
          Amen to that.  The supermarket's
          full of assholes.

                         MIKE
          Take my advice, don't buy any...

MIKE waits for a response.  None comes.

                         ELLIE
          Mike?

                         MIKE
                  (aware of her change
                   in tone)
          What?

                         ELLIE
          My ass if falling.

                         MIKE
          Your what...?

                         ELLIE
          My ass is falling.  It is.

                         MIKE
                  (a laugh)
          What are you talking about?

                         ELLIE
                  (appears in the door;
                   stricken)
          I just saw it in the mirror, it
          doesn't look like my ass anymore.

                         MIKE
          Get in bed.

                         ELLIE
          What am I gonna do?  I jog, I do the
          exercises on TV in the morning...
          gravity...

                         MIKE
          You got a great ass!  I love your
          ass -- now get that falling ass into
          bed before it hits the floor.

She does -- the lights snap put.  They giggle, she MOVING
into his arms.

                         ELLIE
                  (a declaration)
          Tomorrow, I start looking for our
          house... You love me?

                         MIKE
                  (deeply)
          You got no idea...

                         ELLIE
          Imagine... I'm sleepin' with a DT.

Another muted laugh -- and they move into an EMBRACE,
CAMERA PANNING WITH THEM, and then STILL FARTHER INTO THE
DARKNESS.

THE DARKNESS HOLDS.


EXT.  EAST RIVER - (AERIAL) - NIGHT

... Becoming a darkness pricked with light, as WE FLOAT
over the reflective river, MOVING WEST TOWARD AND OVER THE
CITY.


EXT.  MANHATTAN - (AERIAL CONTINUED) - NIGHT

The fabled city, the ultimate object of man's desire and
fulfillment, Oz, the city unfolding itself before and
beneath us, till DAZZLING SHAFTS OF LIGHT sizzling up --
KLEIG LIGHTS -- stab our eyes and bring us down into their
BLINDING BRIGHTNESS...


EXT.  CLUB - MIDTOWN - NIGHT

A nondescript piece of rundown city block that's the
hottest thing in town.  PERSONNEL regulate the CROWD and
ARRIVALS.  There is a public line, and from it the young,
hip and outrageous can look on while awaiting entrance at
the formally dressed, stylishly gowned GUESTS arriving at
the private line.

A glittering post-Metropolitan Museum of Art opening gala
is in progress tonight.  The club's private entrance looks
like what it once was, a shuttered porno bookstore, and
the joke's not lost on most of the formal GUESTS, arriving
through the X-rated doorway.


INT.  CLUB - NIGHT

The latest achievement of money, rock and art.  It's a
breathtaking multi-leveled theater of light, sound and
dance.

There is also an entrance-by-invitation-only grand salon.

ANGLE

The GUESTS arriving here for the Met gala enter almost in
enchanted procession, each of them being personally
greeted by the primary owner and manager of the club, WIN
HOCKINGS, a charming, rakish ex-preppy.  WIN stands in the
middle of the floor in the throw of a spot, greeting.
This is his element and his club, a son of old money, and
a crossover creature to the fast life.

                         WIN
          Hi... nice to see you... thank
          you... my pleasure...

                         A MET BENEFACTRESS
                  (effusively)
          Thank you so much for agreeing to
          host us tonight.  It's really
          extraordinary!

                         WIN
          Glad I could be of help.

CAMERA MOVING IN ON A NEW ANGLE, CLAIRE GREGORY and NEIL
STEINHART.  The way our CAMERA covers them makes it clear
they are major characters in our story.  NEIL steps
forward to introduce himself, but WIN, looking up, spots
CLAIRE first:  A special beauty and clearly someone very
special to him...

                         WIN
          Claire!

                         CLAIRE
          Hello, Win.

And he embraces her.

                         CLAIRE
                  (introducing her
                   companion)
          You know Neil Steinhart?

He grins broadly, taking NEIL'S hand; then right back to
CLAIRE.

                         WIN
          Of the filthy rich Steinharts?  Why
          is it Claire always connects with
          the richest men this side of Saudi?

                         NEIL
                  (to Win; meaning the
                   club)
          This gives new meaning to the word
          nightlife.

WIN acknowledges the obligatory compliment with a closed
smile, impatiently returning to CLAIRE:

                         WIN
          C'mon, let's get outa this lowbrow
          rag trade...
                  (smiles, cutting
                   Neil out)
          You don't mind, do you?

NEIL stares, polite, as WIN whisks her away; turning, as
he is addressed by someone else coming his way.


EXT.  THE CLUB - NIGHT

as a BLACK PORSCHE PULLS UP, its dark-tinted window
rolling down TO REVEAL JOEY VENZA.  The MANAGER of the
club comes over to him, with a clipboard list of only the
invitees.

                         MANAGER
                  (a dilemma)
          I'm sorry, Mr. Venza...

VENZA jams the ACCELERATOR to the FLOOR, the CAR burning
rubber like a DRAGSTER as PEOPLE SQUEAL and JUMP OUT of
the way; the CAR fish-tailing away, screeching AROUND the
CORNER.


INT.  CLUB - NIGHT

WIN and CLAIRE.  The music, noise, other conversations can
still be heard as they walk through the club.

He smiles, mid-conversation; there's a real affection
here.

                         WIN
          Skiddy and Kit?  I haven't seen them
          since that shitty pasta dinner on
          the cape.

                         CLAIRE
          They've got two monsters now.  Both
          boys.

                         WIN
          And so what's with Steinhart?  Is it
          serious?

                         CLAIRE
          You didn't like him?

                         WIN
          Looks a little constipated to me.

                         CLAIRE
                  (needling him)
          It's called "solid"... Nice to find
          someone you can count on, Win.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  BASEMENT - REAR - ENTRANCE - NIGHT

VENZA entering, a rush, NOISE and ACTIVITY from the alley
outside; the throbbing new MUSIC overhead.

JOEY VENZA

Immaculate as always, in a conservatively-cut European
pinstripe, VENZA strides tautly into the shabby corridors.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MEZZANINE - MAIN BAR - NIGHT

WIN shows CLAIRE the main dance floor below, sound-filled
and crowded, private and paying GUESTS mixing,
indistinguishable now.  He raises his voice to be heard.

                         WIN
          The main floor stays public.  The
          side rooms we try to keep available
          for special functions like tonight.

He turns and takes her arm.

                         CLAIRE
          It's terrific Win.

                         WIN
          You still writing the occasional
          magazine article?

                         CLAIRE
          Occasionally.

                         WIN
          Then c'mon.  Follow me.  The art's in
          the basement, you're going to get a
          privileged peek.

He leads her to the freight elevator.

                         VOICE (O.S.)
          Claire!

A sociable FOURSOME descends on them.  It looks like it's
going to be a long conversation.

                         WIN
                  (to Claire, quietly)
          Just press the button all the way
          down when you're ready, okay?

He turns as she's engulfed, heading towards the elevator,
runs into NEIL, CLAIRE'S escort.  NEIL doesn't see her.

                         NEIL
          Where's she go?

                         WIN
          Probably found somebody nicer...
          Kidding.  You're great.

He smiles, entering the elevator and disappearing from
view.  NEIL looking around, with thinly-veiled impatience,
at the benefit-types streaming into the room.


INT.  BASEMENT TUNNELS - NIGHT

VENZA navigates the labyrinth that connects to the
offices.


INT.  BASEMENT - NIGHT

The elevator reaches bottom.  WIN exits into an area of
tall rows of stacked boxes still awaiting unloading.
Beyond, a bright, high-ceilinged linen whiteness gleams.

It's a soon-to-be restaurant-gallery area.

THE RESTAURANT GALLERY

The walls have already been painted white.  Tables have
been positioned.  Chairs are stacked, waiting.  So are
mounds of folded laundry and tablecloths, boxes of
accessories, glass and dish and kitchenware, etc.

Except for FRED, the elderly stock boy, the bright silence
is empty.

FRED scores open the sealed cardboard cartons with a
curved case cutter.  Several tablefuls of unloaded
servers, kitchen utensils, etc., bear witness to the size
of his job.

                         WIN
          You're in overtime, Freddy.

FRED nods, putting down his case cutter, using a side
exit.

WIN, left alone, turns to look up proudly at his
powerhouse modern art collection lining the wall.


INT.  MEZZANINE - NEAR ELEVATOR - NIGHT

CLAIRE extricating herself; to the foursome.

                         CLAIRE
          I will... I promise...

She smiles graciously and steps into the freight elevator,
pushing the down button.  The doors close.


INT.  BASEMENT TUNNELS - NIGHT

VENZA approaches an intersection.  Ahead, FRED crosses on
his way to the offices.  The elderly STOCK BOY doesn't see
VENZA, but VENZA sees him, realizing where else to look
here.


INT.  FREIGHT ELEVATOR - NIGHT

CLAIRE closes her eyes, leaning back against the metal
walls, taking advantage of the refuge for the moment.
Music and crowd noise still vibrate.  The elevator,
shuddering, continues its descent.


INT.  RESTAURANT - NIGHT

WIN turns in the silence, looking out over the bright
space edged by darkness, every reason to be pleased.

WIN doesn't even hear VENZA enter.

                         VENZA
                  (bear, icily)
          You need money, you come to me.

WIN turns.

                         VENZA
                  (approaching,
                   soundlessly)
          Who the fuck do you think you are,
          raising cash without coming to me?

                         WIN
                  (calmer)
          Your ex-partner... I'm buying you
          out, Joey.  Read the contract.
          There's ample provision.

                         VENZA
          Fuck the contract!


INT.  ELEVATOR - BASEMENT - NIGHT

The elevator arrives.  The doors open.  CLAIRE steps out
into the shadowed area of stacked rows.


INT.  RESTAURANT - WIN AND VENZA

                         VENZA
                  (stares, wildly)
          Two years ago you were begging me
          for the money.  Nobody would've
          touched you...

                         WIN
          You're making an eighty percent
          return.  Which is what you wanted.

WIN turn away from VENZA.  VENZA grabs his arm violently.

                         VENZA
          Don't turn away when I'm talking to
          you.

                         WIN
                  (beat with
                   deliberation)
          Grease and water still don't mix,
          Joey.

VENZA

slashes one of the canvases (A Rosenquist) with the case
cutter... Then another...

ANGLE - WIN

                         WIN
                  (stunned)
          Jesus Christ... are you crazy?

ANGLE

Venza slashes another.

                         WIN
          Joey!

VENZA

turns, slashing WIN.

WIN

gasps.  Blood begins to seep from his wound.

ANGLE - CLAIRE

hearing, emerges into the light, smiling, thinking WIN'S
saying something she's supposed to respond to.

VENZA

slashing WIN again, losing all control.

                         WIN
                  (staggering back)
          Jesus...!

CLAIRE ROUNDS THE CORNER

Seeing WIN, she stops.

ANGLE

VENZA continues to attack him, stabbing WIN to the floor.

CLAIRE

screams, unable to imagine or believe it.

VENZA

looks up, hearing her.

WIN sprawls, a lifeless, bloodied mass at VENZA'S feet.
VENZA stares, returning CLAIRE'S stare, trying to
concentrate, to focus and pull himself back together.  He
puts down the cutter, taking a step toward her.

CLAIRE

steps back, turning and moving back toward the elevator,
running.

VENZA

quickens his step, after her.

ANGLE ON THE ELEVATOR

as she REACHES IT and HURTLES inward, HITTING all the
BUTTONS, the doors beginning to RUMBLE CLOSED.  But VENZA
is there, THRUSTING HIS HAND INSIDE to stop them.  The
doors CLOSE on his fingers.  He cries out, pulling his
fingers free.  He slams his fist against the doors as they
close shut, POUNDS the button again.

ANGLE INSIDE - CLAIRE

But CLAIRE grabs the POWER SWITCH, pulling it -- the
elevator goes dead, the overhead lights go out -- and
somewhere, in the shaft above, an ALARM BELL begins to
RING.

Relentlessly, VENZA pounds on the other side of the door.

CLOSE ON CLAIRE

giving way in the darkened cubicle.

ANOTHER ANGLE - CLAIRE

sagging against the elevator wall, weeping, hearing
VENZA'S FRANTIC BREATHING on the other side subside, and
finally move away in the darkness.


INT.  MIKE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The PHONE RINGING -- a hand fumbling on the telephone in
the darkness.  WE HEAR MIKE'S VOICE as he turns on the
light.

                         MIKE
          T.J...?  Is this a joke?  Are you
          kidding me?
                  (listening, not
                   liking what he
                   hears)
          Give me 20 minutes.

MIKE hanging up the phone, turns to ELLIE.

                         ELLIE
                  (mumbling from under
                   the covers)
          Switch the light off on your way
          out.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  UNMARKED CAR - NIGHT

MIKE and T.J. disheveled and tired, drinking out of
styrofoam coffee cups, arriving at the club.

                         T.J.
                  (grinning)
          Hey Mike, out of the bag into the
          bureau, huh... How do you like it so
          far?

                         MIKE
                  (giving a half smile)
          Right behind you, T.J.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  THE CLUB - NIGHT

A rare tableau; swirling disco lights reflecting off
strategically placed mirrors, illuminating a room filled
with POLICEMEN (in uniforms and polyester suits), trying
to ride herd on the BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, in contrasting
attire.

The man in charge and coping is LIEUTENANT GARBER; in
plainclothes, fiftyish, rough-hewn.

                         GARBER
          Did you ever hear the chatter.
          They're worse than fuckin' four-
          year-olds... Miller, let's clear
          this path here, all right?

T.J. and MIKE arrive.

                         GARBER
                  (to them, on the
                   move)
          Blood bath downstairs.  The owner of
          this place is dead.  And I got a
          witness, and a suspect... Joey
          Venza.

T.J. reacts to the name.

                         T.J.
          Where's Venza?

                         GARBER
          Nice question.  I like questions
          like that.

A massive "GASP" goes up from the CROWD as a cumbersome
BODYBAG is brought up a stairwell from downstairs.  GARBER
temporarily moves away to oversee.

                         MIKE
                  (to T.J.)
          Who's Joey Venza?

                         T.J.
          Bad fuckin' news.  Even the families
          dropped him when they found they had
          a fruitcake on their hands.  But he
          knows where a lot of bodies are
          buried.  It'd cap it for Garber if
          he could bring him in.

                         GARBER
                  (returning, re: the
                   crowd)
          Okay, let's find out what we know.
          Herd'm up and check'm out.  Anybody
          know more than gossip about the
          deceased or Venza, I wanna talk to
          them myself.  Go.

T.J. moves into action with typical "T.J. style"
diplomacy.

                         T.J.
          Okay, will all the beautiful people
          shut the fuck up, before it starts
          gettin' real ugly here!

The uniformed COPS take their cue, moving in for quiet.

                         GARBER
                  (to Mike, the "new
                   boy")
          Keegan, go baby-sit the witness.
          Just sit and look impressive.  Make
          her feel protected.  And if you can
          get her boyfriend outa my hair, I'll
          promote you to fuckin' Joint
          Chiefs...

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  WIN HOCKINGS' OFFICE - CLUB - NIGHT

A uniformed COP guarding the door as MIKE approaches,
flashing his shield.

                         COP
          Quit playing with yourself, Keegan.
          I know who you are.

                         MIKE
                  (grinning)
          A Detective's supposed to identify
          himself.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  WIN HOCKINGS' OFFICE - NIGHT

The room is dim, lit only by a desk lamp, CLAIRE seated on
a couch, catatonic, NEIL kneading her hand, trying to
comfort her.  A KNOCK at the DOOR:  NEIL JUMPS UP to open
it -- MIKE ENTERING before he gets there.

                         NEIL
                  (upset)
          Are you in charge here?

                         MIKE
          No, sir...

                         NEIL
          I asked for the man in charge...

                         MIKE
          That would be Lieutenant Garber, and
          he's very busy upstairs...

                         NEIL
          Don't tell me he's "busy".  I asked
          for an ambulance for this woman
          and...

                         MIKE
          Is she injured?

                         CLAIRE
                  (softly)
          No.

MIKE gets his first view of her as she TURNS her head into
the light.  It is an almost storybook vision of beauty
that emerges from the darkness around her; her
vulnerability penetrates to the very core.

                         NEIL
                  (to Claire)
          You're not going to talk to anyone
          without a lawyer.

                         MIKE
          She's not a suspect, sir, she's a
          witness.  Could I ask you to step
          outside, please.

                         NEIL
          No, I will not step outside.

                         MIKE
          Sir, I am just trying to do my job,
          it's standard procedure to question
          the witness alone.  Help me out
          here, could you please leave.

                         NEIL
                  (icily)
          I don't really see what that has to
          do with...

                         CLAIRE
                  (deadened; to Neil)
          Neil, do what he says.

ANGLE ON MIKE AND NEIL:  at a standoff.

                         CLAIRE
                  (quietly)
          Please.

MIKE OPENS THE DOOR for NEIL.  NEIL reluctantly swallows
it.

                         NEIL
          I'll be right outside.

NEIL grudgingly leaves.  MIKE quietly closes the door.

ANGLE CHANGE:  CLAIRE and MIKE alone.  He sits down.  A
beat.

                         MIKE
          Can I get you a cup of coffee or
          something?

Her plaintive eyes turning to meet his.

                         CLAIRE
                  (lost)
          I've never seen anyone killed
          before.

                         MIKE
          It's okay... I've never been a
          detective before either...

She lifts her gaze quizzically, catching his smile.  She
returns it in spite of herself, disarmed by his frankness,
and curiously reassured.

                         MIKE
          We'll go slow.  Okay?  We'll get
          through it together.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  DOWNTOWN HEADQUARTERS - DAY

PHONES RINGING, TYPEWRITERS TYPING, BODIES moving at
cross-current -- CAMERA FINDING LIEUTENANT GARBER,
hustling through the bullpen, MIKE FOLLOWING, toward his
office.

                         GARBER
          I don't know how you did it, but
          whatever it was, keep doing it.

                         MIKE
                  (puzzled)
          I just sat and listened.

                         GARBER
          Safe and secure is how we want her.
          Until she I.D.'s Venza.

T.J. has joined them.

                         GARBER
          Venza's either going to skip or try
          to get to her and Venza likes it
          here.  I want her ass covered, 24
          hour protection, but I don't want
          her to know there is any real
          danger.

                         T.J.
          I don't like what I'm hearing...

                         MIKE
                  (to Garber)
          I don't understand.  If there's any
          danger, why not just level with
          her...

GARBER turns back to MIKE

                         GARBER
                  (with mock tolerance)
          T.J. your friend's a little dense.
          When she realizes there's a killer
          tryin' to shut her up, she'll be on
          the next plane for Tahiti... somehow
          I think my way is better.

He MOVES ON, leaving them not very happy.

                         MIKE
          Chief?

GARBER turns back.

                         MIKE
          Why not Patrol?  They'd do just as
          good a job.

                         GARBER
          When I want your advise, Keegan,
          I'll make an appointment.

GARBER MOVES ON OUT.  MIKE and T.J. left alone.

                         MIKE
                  (disappointed)
          Shit!  A Nursemaid!  My first
          detail, and I'm a fuckin' slug!
                  (turning to T.J.)
          I got a 'choice' at all.

                         T.J.
          Do it, or look for another
          profession.  That's a choice I
          guess.

                         MIKE
          You in this with me?

                         T.J.
          Yeah!  Seniority gets the day shift.


EXT.  BACK OF MIKE'S HOUSE - DAY

ELLIE IS SEEN unloading groceries from the rear of a small
hatchback...


INT.  MIKE'S HOUSE - DAY

MIKE is in the kitchen; he's making eggs in agitation,
throwing in everything he can find (tuna fish, chopped
pickles, mustard), his kid, TOMMY, in evidence in the
b.g., on a SKATEBOARD, whizzing through the kitchen, even
RIDING IT down the STAIRS.

MIKE MOVES TO A CABINET -- and his FEET GO OUT FROM UNDER
HIM.  He's slipped on a SKATEBOARD -- barely catching
himself in time.

                         MIKE
                  (yelling)
          Tommy!  Goddamnit!  Get these
          skateboards off the goddamn kitchen
          floor!

TOMMY whizzes through, expertly picking it up "on the
move," MIKE taking a futile swipe at him.

                         TOMMY
          What're we having?

                         MIKE
          My special, scrambled eggs surprise.

                         TOMMY
                  (frowns dubiously)
          Scrambled eggs surprise?

TOMMY goes whizzing on out again.  ELLIE comes in loaded
up with the groceries.  Puts them down, giving MIKE a
kiss.

                         ELLIE
          So how'd it go?

                         MIKE
          Not great.  I've got a babysitting
          job for a material witness on a
          homicide.

It explains his mood.  ELLIE starts putting away the
groceries.

                         ELLIE
          For how long?

                         MIKE
          'Til they pick up the perp.
                  (he sits)
          Seniority gets day shift... You know
          what that means.

CLOSE ON ELLIE:  she sits, realizing, upset, but taking it
in stride, now putting plates on the table.

                         ELLIE
          Well, I'll live with it, I've lived
          with it all my life.  My Dad was a
          cop, he said, "whatever you do,
          honey, never go out with a cop".
          So, what did I do?  I got a job with
          the cops.  Then I married a cop.  I
          probably gave birth to a cop.
                  (shouting)
          Tommy!  Come over here and eat, it's
          hot.

TOMMY enters.

                         MIKE
          Maybe you and Tommy should stay with
          my Mom.

ELLIE makes an expression of dislike.

                         MIKE
          Don't start... The only reason is
          that the neighborhood's shi...
                  (realizing that
                   Tommy is listening)
          ... crummy.  I just don't like the
          idea of leaving you alone here at
          night.

                         ELLIE
          I can still use a gun.

                         MIKE
          Just keep it someplace safe, but
          handy.

TOMMY joins then at the table.

                         TOMMY
                  (zooming in)
          Keep what handy?

                         ELLIE
          Nothing.

                         TOMMY
          The gun?  It's in the upstairs
          closet.

                         MIKE
          How do you know where the gun is?

                         TOMMY
          I know where everything is.

                         MIKE
          Except the goddamn skateboards,
          which are everywhere!  I'd like to
          kill the guy who invented those
          things.

                         TOMMY
          Lay back, Mack.

                         MIKE
          Lay back, Mack!!  What's this "lay
          back, Mack?"
                  (to Ellie)
          Where does he get this?

Silence; they eat... ELLIE'S eyes finding MIKE'S.

                         ELLIE
          Keep the weekends for us, huh?  Get
          a replacement for Saturday nights.
          That'll give us the weekends
          together.

TOMMY'S face screws up, tasting the lump of food in his
mouth.

                         TOMMY
          God!  Scrambled eggs surprise?!
          These are pickles...!  God!

                         MIKE
          Just "lay back, Mack"... lay back...

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  MANHATTAN - FIFTH AVENUE - EARLY EVENING

Mike emerges from the subway alongside the park.


EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE APARTMENT BUILDINGS - EARLY EVENING

Out front, the DOORMAN opens the door for the building's
children returning from music lessons.

Across the street in Central Park, handsome, elderly
tenants stroll in the company of their nurse:  a nanny
pushes a pram, taking advantage of the last light.  This
is one of New York's most exclusive co-ops.  Distilled
civilization and quiet wealth.  A world away from Queens
or anything else.  MIKE arrives on foot.


INT./ EXT.  LOBBY - EVENING

A notice behind the locked front door informs:  "ALL
VISITORS MUST BE ANNOUNCED".  MIKE displays his shield to
the DOORMAN through the glass.  The DOORMAN opens, taking
the time to inspect his credentials before returning them,
then STEPS ASIDE, allowing ENTRY.


INT.  ELEVATOR - SAME

MIKE rides up in silence, examining the ornate walls.


INT.  VESTIBULE - CLAIRE'S APARTMENT - SAME

The elevator delivers him.  MIKE finds himself in a wall-
papered trompe l'oeil foyer.  Nothing to get his bearings.

The front door clicks open, startling him.  MARY, the
cleaning lady, an older, capable woman in functional
civilian clothes, greets him matter-of-factly, taking him
in.


INT.  CLAIRE'S LIVING ROOM - SAME

Marble-floored and high-ceilinged, absolutely palatial;
MIKE'S EYES registering amazement as he's led inward.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park, where
the VOICES are REVEALED belonging to GARBER, T.J., CLAIRE,
and CLAIRE'S boyfriend, NEIL -- who's trying his best to
be "in charge".

                         GARBER
                  (approaching Mike)
          You remember Detective Keegan?

                         NEIL
                  (expressionless)
          I do.

The doorbell RINGS AGAIN:  MARY goes to answer it as MIKE
mumbles his greetings to all -- noticing that CLAIRE,
reclining on a couch, seems extremely put out -- or is it
"disinterested"?

                         NEIL
          I want to make sure that everyone
          respects the privacy of Miss
          Gregory's household.  You're limited
          to the outer vestibule, so you can
          watch the elevator, the kitchen, so
          you can get something to eat, and
          the washroom.

                         T.J.
                  (under his breath to
                   Mike)
          So you can take a shit.

The THIRD DETECTIVE enters, being led by MARY.  It's
KOONTZ, a package of razz and sarcasm, somebody you
definitely don't take home to mother.

                         MIKE
                  (reacting; to T.J.)
          Not Koontz.

                         T.J.
          Be happy.  He's good at this.

                         GARBER
                  (to Neil)
          We'd like to, just once, get a look
          at the entire layout, so we can
          evaluate security.

                         CLAIRE
          This really isn't necessary.  The
          security in this building is about
          the best in the city.

                         GARBER
                  (ever the diplomat)
          I'm sure you're right, Miss Gregory,
          but I'd consider it a favor if you'd
          let us look around.

                         CLAIRE
          Be my guest.

                         GARBER
                  (to his troops)
          Guys.

ANGLE - HALLWAY

as GARBER withdraws; MIKE, T.J., KOONTZ to start their
check.

                         MIKE
                  (to Garber)
          What about when she goes out?

                         GARBER
          Discourage it.  But stay with her if
          you can't.  Call it in first so we
          can have a car on tail.  She's
          agreed to travel only with her own
          driver and limousine... okay, let's
          check it out.

They split up.

ANGLE - MIKE

following orders, continues down the hall.  He moves to a
door that he ATTEMPTS TO OPEN -- discovering it's not
real.  It's a TROMPE L'OEIL.  He turns around to find he's
not alone in the long hall.  NEIL stands just outside the
living room, watching him.

                         MIKE
                  (re: the "door")
          Pretty good.

ANGLE - NEIL

turns, returning to CLAIRE in the LIVING ROOM.

                         NEIL
          Why an I reminded of the Three
          Stooges?

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S LIBRARY - MOMENTS LATER

KOONTZ checking the windows and terrace.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  KITCHEN - SAME

MIKE, MARY the MAID in there with him.

                         MARY
                  (officiously)
          You a vegetarian?  Miss Gregory's a
          vegetarian, so I'm gonna put food
          for you people in a separate fridge.
          You know how to use a microwave?
                  (before he can
                   answer)
          Just about everything you'd want
          will heat up by turning this to
          ninety seconds.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S BEDROOM - SAME

Utterly sumptuous; T.J. uttering a low "whistle" of awe.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S POWDER ROOM

There's an enormous circular bathtub and a Jacuzzi,
endless mirrors, a writing desk, carpeted, a place one
could spend one's life in -- MIKE SEEN, in the MIRRORS,
wandering through -- idly pushing a mirrored door open, to
gaze, in awe, at the walk-in closet.

                         MIKE
                  (under his breath)
          Fuckin' A.

ANGLE:  He see T.J., or what he thinks is T.J., reflected
among the other reflections at the other end of the room.
Sees T.J. sit on edge of bed.  MIKE is standing in center
of the MIRRORS, slightly disoriented.  And T.J. sees him,
similarly astounded, MOVING OUT OF SHOT.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  Moving inward, he gawks at the racks of
clothes, gently brushing his hand through the lush
fabrics.  CLAIRE'S VOICE -- ANGRY, ALMOST TREMBLING, A
FIRM EFFORT OF WILL -- rustles the silence behind him.

                         CLAIRE
          Excuse me.

ANGLE ON CLAIRE

                         CLAIRE
          This is my dressing room, and these
          are my clothes.
                  (holding herself
                   firm)
          I understand your responsibilities...
          but I'd appreciate you staying out
          of here at all times.

MIKE:  chastened, nods.

                         MIKE
          Sorry.  Just checking.

He starts away.  MOMENTARILY baffled by the MANY-ANGLED
REFLECTIONS OF HIMSELF in the MIRRORS.

                         CLAIRE
          Straight ahead.

                         MIKE
          Hard to find doors in this place.

MIKE:  embarrassed, apologetic.

                         CLAIRE
          ... Detective Keegan, I hope you
          understand how upsetting this is?

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S OUTER VESTIBULE - NIGHT

All silent; MIKE on "watch".  Just him and a wooden desk
chair, the grade-school variety.  No books, no crossword
puzzles; he came unprepared.  He checks his watch and
looks to an ornate wall clock.  And he's bored.  He picks
up an empty coffee cup, looking for a last drop.  Settles
for sniffing it.  Replaces it on the floor beside him.
Then he looks to the closed doors of the apartment and
makes a decision.  Picking up the coffee cup, he quietly
pushes the DOORS OPEN, and ENTERS.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

As MIKE pads quietly across the marble floors in the
quiet; pausing to gaze, in awe, at the vast, empty LIVING
ROOM.  It is gigantic, his eyes roaming the ceilings, as
though to estimate their height.

Moving inward, his eyes fall on a BOOK RACK, and he
crosses to it, perusing the shelves for possible reading
material.

They're all ART BOOKS, the big, thick kind.  A Renoir,
because of a NUDE FIGURE on the cover, catches his eye.
But as he pulls it out and begins to leaf through -- he
HEARS VOICES.  CLAIRE'S and NEIL'S; her tone is agitated.

                         NEIL (O.S.)
                  (barely audible)
          ... just saying you should think
          twice about it...

                         CLAIRE (O.S.)
          ... I don't want to talk about it...

CLOSE ON MIKE:  book under his arm, quietly moving toward
the SOURCE:  the DEN.  It's door is slightly ajar; there
is a suitcase in front of it, ready for travel.


INT.  DEN - NIGHT

                         CLAIRE
          ... You know, and I know, that the
          only thing standing between a life
          sentence for Venza and his freedom
          is my testimony at his trial...

                         NEIL
          Claire...

                         CLAIRE
          ... He killed Win... he enjoyed
          it...

                         NEIL
          Win made his choices, Claire.  We
          all do --

                         CLAIRE
          And I'm making mine.

She looks at him; a beat, emotionally.  He remains steady.

                         NEIL
                  (gently)
          You're dealing with a psychopath.
          He gets out of jail in ten years, or
          five... or ninety days, and you'll
          be looking over your shoulder for
          the rest of your life...

                         CLAIRE
          What am I supposed to do?!  I saw
          one of my oldest friends get killed!
          And I saw who did it!
                  (through tears)
          I can't just -- "let it go away"!!

                         NEIL
                  (gently)
          Claire...

ANGLE - DEN.  NEIL takes her in his arms, holding her
tightly, affectionately, protectively.  Holding her from
behind, NEIL KISSES CLAIRE gently on her neck.  She calms
in his arms.

RETURN:  MIKE DODGES back quickly, through the living and
dining rooms until he's in the kitchen.


INT.  KITCHEN - NIGHT

Spotting the microwave, MIKE QUICKLY TOSSES in an English
muffin -- peering at the dials, as he switches it on.

But he hasn't escaped being a trespasser to what's going
on in the far room.  He can still HEAR THEM, though HE
WHISTLES, trying not to.

The English muffin BURSTS INTO FLAMES, MIKE desperately
pulling it out, tossing it into the sink, feverishly
fanning the air.

ANOTHER ANGLE ON MIKE:  becoming aware that HE'S NOT
ALONE.  He TURNS SUDDENLY to see MARY, the housekeeper,
not ten feet from him, in the laundry room, coat on,
fluffing her collar, ready to go home.

                         MIKE
                  (chagrined)
          I like 'em toasty.

ANGLE ON MARY:  staring at him, amused.

                         MARY
          Good night, Mr. Keegan.

She moves through the kitchen and EXITS.


INT.  VESTIBULE - LATER - NIGHT

NEIL, with his briefcase, finally leaving.  He crosses
from the hallway.

The TWO EYE EACH OTHER:  MIKE attempting a cordial smile.

                         NEIL
          You're here 'til what time?

                         MIKE
          I'm relieved at 4:00 A.M.

NEIL noticing the Renoir.

                         NEIL
          When you're through with it, put it
          back, please, exactly where you
          found it, and don't use the library
          again.  I have to leave town for a
          few days.  Let's do everything we
          can to make this less of a trial for
          her, shall we?

MIKE NODS.  But when NEIL leaves, he makes a mock
"military salute"; a click of the heels.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S VESTIBULE - LATER

2:45 A.M. (the clock ON THE WALL); pindrop silence; MIKE
alone.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  thoughtful, leafing through the Renoir.
Like a man making the most of solitary confinement --
becoming aware of a NOISE.  Though hard to make out in
this windowless capsule, it is DISTANT THUNDER.  It stirs
life in him and his eyes wander reflexively upward,
studying the ceiling -- then the doors of the apartment,
left slightly ajar.

ANGLE INSIDE THE APARTMENT:  CAMERA FOLLOWING MIKE as he
wanders inward, becoming aware of light coming from a
drawing room.  HE MOVES TOWARD, STOPPING.

ANGLE FROM HIS POV:  CLAIRE, dimly illuminated by the
light of a desk lamp that throws a gentle glow around her
-- seated, still as statuary, gazing out into the rain.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  watching her.

                                            DISSOLVE TO:

INT.  SUBWAY - ON THE MOVE - LATER

The uncivilized hour indicated by the TOTALLY EMPTY
SUBWAY, MIKE a lone figure, somewhat numbed, his eyes set
into distant space -- as the SUBWAY reaches its
DESTINATION, the blurry platform signs decelerating until
we can make out the word "QUEENS".


EXT.  MIKE'S HOUSE - QUEENS

The neighborhood still asleep in the predawn hour; MIKE
picks up the newspaper... glancing at it, he opens it,
sees an article and photograph of CLAIRE on the second
page.  He heads inwards...

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE'S BEDROOM - DAY

Afternoon sunlight SPILLING IN as MIKE AWAKENS to the
SOUND of a CAR MOTOR, faltering, then "chug-chugging" to
another start, gasping, then revving.  Someone's working
on MIKE'S car.  He looks at his alarm clock; it's 4:00 in
the afternoon.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  MIKE'S BACKYARD - DAY

ELLIE and TOMMY visible only as fragments as they work on
MIKE'S car.  ELLIE IS SEEN as a rear-end in blue jeans,
the rest of her inside the hood; she calls to TOMMY to
"try it again".  It looks like no one's behind the wheel;
but the very top of his head CAN BE SEEN as he strains to
reach the accelerator.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  appearing at the door, in a freshly
pressed suit, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.  He walks
across the lawn towards them.

                         MIKE
          Hey!  What the hell're you doin' to
          my car?

ELLIE emerges from underneath the hood, flushed.

                         ELLIE
          Changing the sparks.  They showed it
          on TV.  What d'you think?

                         MIKE
          I think television's a dangerous
          thing.

                         ELLIE
          It's twenty bucks in the bank.

Slamming the hood.  TOMMY revs the engine ELLIE moving
down the steps towards MIKE.

                         ELLIE
          Enough, Tommy!  C'mon.  Get out of
          there!

ELLIE moving towards MIKE, she slipping her hand into his
underpants:  Their eyes meet, lovingly.  She laughs.

                         MIKE
          Hey.  The neighbors.

                         ELLIE
          Let 'em eat their hearts out.

She retrieves her cold coffee cup from the POTTING TABLE,
checks out the picture of CLAIRE in the newspaper, he's
left there.  MIKE adjusts his tie.  It's very colorful.

                         ELLIE
          I read the article.  You didn't tell
          me she was so beautiful.

                         MIKE
                  (Mister Honest)
          Well, actually, she looks better
          than that.

ELLIE playfully makes a move, JABBING AT HIM, MIKE stops
her, ending WITH A HUG.

                         MIKE
          I've got to go.

MIKE kisses her.  ELLIE holds MIKE'S face with her gloved
hand.

                         MIKE
          See you Tommy.

ANGLE ON ELLIE:  as TOMMY comes up and leans against his
mom:  both watching MIKE primp, they share on the joke.
MIKE turns, his face with grease on it.

                         MIKE
          Okay?

                         ELLIE
          Unbelievably handsome.  You look
          fantastic in a suit.

                         TOMMY
          Nice threads Dad.

                         MIKE
          Yeah, I think so.

MIKE leaves.


INT.  CLAIRE'S KITCHEN - LATER - NIGHT

The WALL CLOCK reads 6:30.  The remains of a teeny gourmet
meal, before him on the kitchen table.

MIKE is playing an improvised hockey game, shooting peas
through a goal made up of two water glasses, using his
knife as a hockey stick.  He HEARS the CLICK of HIGH HEELS
approaching, crossing the vast marble floors.

ANGLE FROM HIS POV:  CLAIRE coming toward -- clearly
dressed for the evening, her stride signaling
determination.

                         MIKE
                  (brilliant)
          Hi.

                         CLAIRE
          I'm sorry.  I'm not sure how this
          works.  I have to go out... is that
          all right?

                         MIKE
                  (unprepared)
          Uh...

                         CLAIRE
          I have to pick something up before
          Bergdorf's closes, then stop at a
          reception just a few blocks away.

                         MIKE
                  (faltering)
          I think, maybe, that isn't such a
          great idea...

                         CLAIRE
          Lieutenant Garber said that in all
          likelihood there was no real danger,
          is that true?

                         MIKE
          Right.  That's true.

                         CLAIRE
          Can we go then?

                         MIKE
          I'm supposed to call in.

                         CLAIRE
          There's a phone in the car.

She MOVES TOWARDS THE ELEVATOR:  MIKE, stymied.


INT.  ELEVATOR - SAME - NIGHT

They descend in silence, MIKE aware of being scrutinized.
The ELEVATOR STOPS, MIKE about to get off, realizing
they're stopped at the THIRD FLOOR, another TENANT
stepping on.  He's dressed in an expensive JOGGING SUIT,
his key dangling from around his neck; he nods to CLAIRE
and pushes "DOWN".  The elevator RUMBLES downward.

                         CLAIRE
          Do you have another tie?  Something
          more conservative?

                         MIKE
                  (confused, then
                   realizing)
          Oh... Yes... I don't have it with
          me.  It's at home.


EXT.  CLAIRE'S BUILDING - SAME - NIGHT

The JOGGER first out the door, taking off with fierce
determination, followed by MIKE, who nervously checks the
street, then opens the limo door and checks inside, then,
finally, MOTIONS CLAIRE OUT.  She moves smoothly into the
limo; MIKE checks traffic behind them, then gets in,
after.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  LIMO - SAME - NIGHT

MIKE fumbles, searching the console for the car phone.
She finds it easily, picks it up.

                         CLAIRE
          What's the number?

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  DOWNTOWN HEADQUARTERS - GARBER'S OFFICE

GARBER is on the other end of the line.

                         GARBER
          Oh, Jesus, what a fucking lunatic.
          Fucking shopping.
                  (he thinks)
          I don't see that we have much
          choice.  Jesus Christ.  Tell her
          she's a fucking lunatic.

GARBER slams down the phone.


INT.  CLAIRE'S LIMO - NIGHT

MIKE sets down the phone.

                         CLAIRE
          What did he say?

                         MIKE
          He thinks you're being a little
          careless.  He made the point several
          times.

MIKE sets down the phone.  They settle back; trying to
feel "comfortable" in one another's presence.  It's plenty
awkward.

                         CLAIRE
          You live in Manhattan?

                         MIKE
          Queens... You know Queens?

                         CLAIRE
          My father founded a music school
          there.  The Milton Gregory School.

He politely tries to place it, with no idea.

                         CLAIRE
          I'm supposed to speak at their tenth
          anniversary.

                         MIKE
          Nice.  Maybe you'll stop by... have
          an aperitif...

It evokes a slight smile but nothing more.

                         MIKE
          Maybe not.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  5TH AVENUE SHOP - NIGHT

The limo pulling up, MIKE hopping expertly out before it
stops moving.

It's parked in a red zone, with tow-away signs everywhere;
a PATROLMAN notices from the curb.

                         MIKE
                  (to the driver)
          Don't move it.

He flashes his shield at the PATROLMAN, takes a firm grip
on CLAIRE'S elbow, guiding her in.

ANGLE - AT THE ENTRANCE DOORS

MIKE stiff-arms the revolving door, stopping outgoing
shoppers to clear the way for CLAIRE; hops over to the
fixed door, opening it quickly for her, hustling her
effortlessly in, zip.

ANGLE:  CLAIRE, taken by it, but not displeased.


INT.  FIFTH AVENUE SHOP - NIGHT

They cross toward the up escalator; she knows where she's
going.

                         PERFUME LADY
          Hello, Miss Gregory.

CLAIRE steps onto the ESCALATOR; MIKE on alert,
scrutinizing the crowd.  He gets on right behind.  They
ascend.

At the top LANDING, A DARK-SUITED MAN VEERS RIGHT INTO
HER.  CLAIRE flinches.  MIKE MOVES PAST HER to the front,
quickly handling the guy.  The MAN jumps back.

                         DARK-SUITED MAN
          I'm sorry... I thought this was
          down...

ANGLE ON MIKE; SHAKEN.  CLAIRE giving him a long unsteady
look, too.

                         CLAIRE
          Are you nervous?

                         MIKE
          No, Ma'am.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SHOP - GIFT COUNTER - NIGHT

MIKE keeping close watch as CLAIRE approves her purchase:
a silver frame, containing an inscribed photo of CLAIRE
and an elegant older woman.

                         CLAIRE
          Would you wrap it for me, I'll be
          back in a moment.

CLAIRE walks past MIKE.

                         CLAIRE
          Could you come with me please.

MIKE follows her.

CLAIRE at the TIE COUNTER, points to the tie rack.

                         CLAIRE
          Would you pick one out, please?

                         MIKE
          Beg pardon?

                         CLAIRE
          Since you're going to be my escort,
          you'll need a new tie.

MIKE begins to connect, glancing down again at the tie
he's wearing.  CLAIRE selects a TIE, turning to the
SALESPERSON, for his reaction.

                         SALESPERSON
          Perfect.

CLAIRE handing it to the SALESPERSON.

                         CLAIRE
          Put it on my account, please.

                         MIKE
          I got money.

CLAIRE gives a look to the clerk to go ahead with her
order.  SALESPERSON goes off.

                         CLAIRE
          If we had more time we'd work on the
          suit too.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  THE LIMO - IN MOTION - SAME - NIGHT

MIKE AND CLAIRE; CLAIRE favorably assessing him in the new
tie.

                         CLAIRE
          You look quite elegant, actually.

He looks down at it in silence; then, finally:

                         MIKE
          My wife likes this suit.

CLOSE ON CLAIRE:  his vulnerability makes her smile.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  GUGGENHEIM MUSEUM - NIGHT

Clearly a "big deal," with Kleig lights and heavy
LIMOUSINE and TAXI traffic being directed into place by
COPS, some of whom we recognize.

ANGLE ON A PAIR OF COPS, using flashlights to guide
traffic -- spotting CLAIRE'S LIMOUSINE with the BLACK-AND-
WHITE PATROL CAR following it, and signaling it into
place.

                         TRAFFIC COP
                  (re: Claire's limo)
          Bring it in, close.

The COP OPENS THE DOOR -- stunned to see MIKE STEP OUT, in
suit and new tie -- looking like he belongs there.

                         COP
          Jesus Christ.

                         MIKE
          I'm on duty.

                         COP
          What kind of work?  Gigolo?

CLAIRE steps out, utterly elegant, taking MIKE'S arm --
the traffic COPS now joined by those from the BLACK-AND-
WHITE, as MIKE and CLAIRE head INWARD.  The COPS wolf-
whistle MIKE and razz him as they go, some beginning the
STRAINS of "Just a Gigolo"...

MIKE GIVES THEM THE FINGER behind his back.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  THE RECEPTION - SAME - NIGHT

MIKE and CLAIRE caught in a crush of people jamming the
ENTRANCE WAY -- their bodies coming into close contact, so
close that MIKE is forced into an awkward posture in order
to stay close to her; one arm up in the air, uncomfortable
about taking her arm.

                         CLAIRE
          You can touch me, I won't bite.

                         MIKE
          Not too sure about that.

He takes her arm, guiding her through the crowd.

The SOUND of a WOMAN'S (MARGE GOODWIN) VOICE attracts
their attention.

                         MARGE
                  (pushing through)
          CLAIRE!  Claire!  Darling!  Are you
          all right?

She's a SOCIETY MATRON-TYPE, grabbing CLAIRE in an ever-
so-concerned HUG.

                         MARGE
          My God!  I couldn't believe... my
          poor darling... and Win Hockings...!
          Antonia'll be so happy you're here,
          she says a "Lifetime Achievement
          Award" is like being invited to your
          own funeral while you're still
          alive...

But ANTONIA, an elegant OLDER WOMAN, has already SPOTTED
HER.

                         ANTONIA
          Claire...!

She pushes through, and fairly falls into CLAIRE'S arms.
ANTONIA almost emotionally overcome, that CLAIRE has
managed it.

                         CLAIRE
          I wouldn't have missed it, Tony.

                         ANTONIA
          You look so beautiful...

ANTONIA looks up to see MIKE.

                         CLAIRE
          This is Mike Keegan, the policeman
          assigned to protect me.  Antonia
          Bolt...

She looks up to SEE MIKE:  it directs others to do the
same.

                         MARGE
                  (change of tone)
          Hello.

                         CLAIRE
                  (introducing)
          Marge Woodwin, Antonia Bolt, this is
          Mike Keegan...

                         MIKE
                  (ultra respectful)
          Hello...
                  (a deferential nod
                   to Antonia)
          ... Ma'am.

                         ANTONIA
                  (liking him; to
                   Claire)
          He's got nice eyes.  Very gentle.
                  (re: Mike's
                   embarrassed
                   reaction)
          And he blushes.  I like that.  Take
          good care of her.


INT.  THE RECEPTION - LATER - NIGHT

CLAIRE in the thick of things -- a BAND PLAYING NOW --
occasionally glancing at MIKE -- who stands against a
wall, ever watchful...

CLOSE ON MIKE: TURNING to see a VERY PRETTY YOUNG THING
come up to him; just "oozing" seduction.

                         PRETTY YOUNG THING
          I hear you're a policeman.

MIKE nods; eyes fixed on CLAIRE.

                         MIKE
          Uh, yeah.  I'm a policeman.

                         PRETTY YOUNG THING
          Ever shot anyone?

                         MIKE
          Yes.

                         PRETTY YOUNG THING
          Does it make you... hard?

                         MIKE
          ... Hard?

                         PRETTY YOUNG THING
          Erect.  You know, a "boner?"  I'd
          heard that it gives you a boner, to
          shoot a man.

MIKE'S eyes register abject dumbfoundment.

                         MIKE
          Would you excuse me, please?

HE PUSHES TOWARD CLAIRE, catching her eye.

                         MIKE
          Would you consider leaving here
          pretty soon?

CLAIRE relaxed, clearly having a good time.

                         CLAIRE
          People think I'm stepping out on
          Neil.  We're causing quite a
          scandal.

                         MIKE
                  (confidential)
          Hey!  There are crazy people here.

                         CLAIRE
          Let's get a drink.

                         MIKE
          Ah... I shouldn't... on duty.

She plows toward the crowded bar, just inside the ballroom
entrance, MIKE following.

                         CLAIRE
          I'll have a spritzer, order
          something soft for yourself... I
          must go for a pee.

                         MIKE
          I'll come with you.

                         CLAIRE
          I think I can probably do that on my
          own.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  Not amused.  CLAIRE heads to the ladies'
room across from the bar.  MIKE watches her enter.  Turns
back to the bar, which is very busy and confused.

                         MIKE
                  (irritated)
          Gimme a spritzer, and a... vodka
          martini.

MIKE seeing the Pretty Young Thing.

                         MIKE
          Make it a double.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  LADIES' ROOM - SAME - NIGHT

as a pair of WOMEN finish their "touch-up" and head out,
making way for CLAIRE to step up to the mirror to assess
herself.  The room momentarily empties.  Putting her purse
down she moves to a stall and enters.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  BAR COUNTER - NIGHT

MIKE, waiting, glancing back at the door as the TWO WOMEN
EXIT, then turns to the BARMAN to receive the drinks.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  LADIES' ROOM - SAME

LOW ANGLE on the door -- as a pair of men's shoes pass
through frame.

CLOSE ON CLAIRE, inside a stall SHE HEARS FOOTSTEPS
QUIETLY ENTER, followed by a CLICK of a DOOR.  It's not
the click of a stall door, because the FOOTSTEPS then
proceed inward; WE HEAR A STALL DOOR CLOSE and LOCK.  It
gives her momentary pause, but she dismisses it, looking
for her purse -- realizing she left it on the sink --
opening her stall door and heading out.

She barely hears the "click" of the bolt sliding behind
her -- and looks up, into the MIRROR, SEEING VENZA appear
behind her.  She SPINS -- but doesn't have time to CRY
OUT.  He's grabbed her by the THROAT.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  BALLROOM - SAME MOMENT - NIGHT

MIKE and the PRETTY YOUNG THING:  she doesn't notice him
trying to drift away.

                         PRETTY YOUNG THING
          You know what?  I don't think you're
          a policeman at all.  I think you're
          just some schmuck who uses that
          "policeman" line as a come-on.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  LADIES' ROOM - SAME - NIGHT

CLAIRE attempting to breathe -- her FACE being brought to
within an inch of his.

                         VENZA
          Christ, you're one beautiful woman.
          I could kill you right now, but I'm
          not gonna... 'cause you're gonna
          help me.  You're gonna see me in a
          police line-up and say it wasn't me.
          And if you don't do that, someone
          will come after you.  They're gonna
          find you dead, with your face
          missing -- understood... Good...
          Because otherwise, it'd be this
          easy.

CLOSE ON CLAIRE:  her eyes wide with TERROR.  He rubs his
thumb across her mouth, smearing the lipstick.

                         VENZA
          Now walk outta here.  And if you
          ever see me again... you never saw
          me before.

To make his point, he SQUEEZES HARDER -- CLAIRE'S eyes
bulging, as TEARS run from her eyes.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MUSEUM - UPPER TIER - SAME - NIGHT

MIKE, finally putting distance between him and the "PRETTY
YOUNG THING."

ANGLE:  MIKE, as he catches sight of a back of a man
(VENZA) moving out of the ladies' room.  Stunned, MIKE
PIVOTS, TURNING, SPRINTING IN THE DIRECTION of the ladies'
room.

OUTSIDE THE LADIES' ROOM:  Two women just go in.  MIKE
pushes his way in, slamming the door behind him.  The
OTHER WOMEN GASP, seeing MIKE invading their sanctuary.

INSIDE THE LADIES' ROOM:  MIKE

CLOSE ON MIKE:  RELIEVED BUT SHOCKED to see CLAIRE,
disheveled, lipstick smeared across her mouth, throat and
face, but otherwise uninjured.

MIKE turns, calling to the TWO WOMEN coming in.

                         MIKE
          Take care of her!

MIKE TAKES OFF AFTER VENZA --


INT.  UPPER TIER

OUT OF LADIES' ROOM, AND UP THE RAMP TO THE NEAREST (THE
UPPER) LEVEL.

ANGLE:  He sees VENZA get into the ELEVATOR.  These is
only one place for it to go -- DOWN.  MIKE CHANGES
DIRECTION and FRANTICALLY RUNS DOWN THE SPIRALING RAMP
trying to keep pace with the descent of the elevator.  At
the GROUND LEVEL HE SEES THE ELEVATOR DOORS OPEN and VENZA
EXITS AMIDST THE PARTY.

ANGLE ON VENZA:  VENZA MAKES HIS WAY TO THE FRONT ENTRANCE
AND EXITS THE BUILDING.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  MIKE HURTLES DOWN THE RAMP AND DESPERATELY
FIGHTS HIS WAY THROUGH THE CENTER of the PARTY and OUT the
FRONT ENTRANCE.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  GUGGENHEIM MUSEUM - NIGHT

MIKE EXITS the BUILDING bewildered; lost him... RUNS
BLINDLY amidst PEDESTRIANS -- SPOTS VENZA AHEAD.

ANGLE ON VENZA reaching someone MIKE CAN'T SEE.  MIKE puts
his hand in his jacket for his gun.

                         MIKE
          Venza!

VENZA HEARS and SLOWS, but DOESN'T TURN.  ONLOOKERS turn.
VENZA is talking to someone, taking his time.

ANGLE ON VENZA:  untroubled, turning; raising his arms,
and SMILING.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  confused -- seeing that the man VENZA
stopped to talk to is a PATROLMAN, he'd stopped to give
himself up.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  breathless as he moves toward VENZA.  MIKE
frisks VENZA as he turns, SMILING at MIKE.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  PRECINCT - DAY

MIKE and T.J. with GARBER, MIKE being CONGRATULATED by
COPS who pass.  But GARBER doesn't look happy.

                         MIKE
                  (protesting)
          But I got him!  He's in jail!
          Wasn't that the point...?!

                         GARBER
          You apprehended him after he gave
          himself up --

                         MIKE
          It wasn't a bad bust.  He gave
          himself up because he knew I was
          gonna nab him.

                         GARBER
          Anyone who turns himself in makes a
          good case for bail.

                         MIKE
          Even Joey Venza?!

                         GARBER
          He's got a good lawyer, and he made
          a smart move.  We've got a scared
          witness and a suspect who proved
          "good will" by turning himself in.

                         MIKE
                  (protesting)
          What about when she identifies him?!

                         GARBER
          If she identifies him.
                  (turns, unloading on
                   him)
          Where the fuck were you anyway,
          cowboy!  Venza was meat.  He walked
          right past you, and now we're the
          ones playing catch-up!  You better
          hope she identifies him.

GARBER turns on his heel, ENTERING HIS OFFICE; leaving
MIKE looking at T.J.  Dismayed.

                         T.J.
          Wasn't your fault.

                         MIKE
                  (exasperated)
          It was my fault, T.J.  Fuck!

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  TRACT HOME - BROOKLYN HEIGHTS - AFTERNOON

A tree-lined neighborhood.  The house has a FOR SALE sign
in front; MIKE is standing in front of a cab, he's dressed
for work -- he looks around.  The cab pulls out, he heads
for the front door.


INT.  TRACT HOME - AFTERNOON

MIKE enters the house.  It's nothing special.  ELLIE is in
another room.  She joins MIKE.

                         ELLIE
          The real estate lady left, she
          couldn't wait anymore.  What took
          you?

                         MIKE
                  (upset)
          Oh, some shit.

                         ELLIE
          What shit, honey?

                         MIKE
          You don't want to hear about it.

ELLIE begins to show him the place.

                         ELLIE
          ... Look at the fireplace.  You
          don't get workmanship like that
          anymore.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  preoccupied.

                         ELLIE
          Ninety-seven five.  What do you
          think?

He nods, trying hard to "be there," but ELLIE isn't
fooled; she assesses him with concern.

                         ELLIE
          Honey.  You got him.

                         MIKE
          I don't know that Ellie.  He might
          get out.  Garber's not bein'
          straight with the witness, she could
          be in deep shit if she identifies
          him, and it's my job to convince her
          she won't be.

                         ELLIE
                  (the voice of
                   sanity)
          She's got to identify him.

                         MIKE
          Why?

                         ELLIE
                  (taken aback)
          Because the the only way to stop
          crime is to identify criminals.  I
          can't believe you're talking this
          way Mister Detective -- I think
          she's got a lot of guts.

                         MIKE
          I think -- she's crazy.

                         ELLIE
          I'd identify him.

                         MIKE
          I might stop you.

A beat.

                         ELLIE
          Oh I can see you've had a bad day.
          We'll see the house another time,
          okay?

                         MIKE
                  (trying to recover)
          No!  No!  I'm sorry.  Ninety-seven
          five right?

                         ELLIE
          Where'd you get the tie?

He's wearing the tie CLAIRE bought him.

                         MIKE
                  (distracted)
          Bought it.

                         ELLIE
          It's not your taste.

                         MIKE
          What did she say the down payment
          was?

PAUSE.  DEAD SILENCE.

                         MIKE
          She didn't like the other one, so
          she picked this one.

                         ELLIE
          She took you shopping for a tie?

                         MIKE
          I had to follow her to a store.

                         ELLIE
          What's wrong with your paisley tie?

                         MIKE
          Ellie, it was a formal party...

                         ELLIE
          Excuse me!  You went to a party with
          her?

                         MIKE
          I'm her bodyguard, goddamnit...

                         ELLIE
          I know you're her bodyguard.  Did
          she buy it or did you?

                         MIKE
          She bought it.

                         ELLIE
          Why?

                         MIKE
          I don't know why she bought me a
          tie! -- She's a generous person --
          and she's a nice person -- and I
          could be settin' her up to be
          killed... you want the fuckin' tie?

His VOICE resonates through the empty house, creating a
ringing silence.  ELLIE begins to giggle.

                         ELLIE
                  (joking)
          No, I don't want the 'fuckin'" tie
          -- I'm sorry --
                  (conciliatory)
          I'm glad she bought you a tie.  You
          needed one.  You look good in that
          tie.
                  (a beat)
          Next time you two go shopping, maybe
          you could tell her we need a new
          Maytag stackable, double-decker
          washer and dryer set.

MIKE smiles, she gives him a kiss, and a flick on the
nose.

                         ELLIE
          You want to see the bedroom.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  DEN - LATER - NIGHT

The WALL CLOCK reads 9:45.  CLAIRE is working at her desk.
She gets up and moves into the hallway where she sees MIKE
through the half-opened door.  CLAIRE moves to the
doorway.

                         CLAIRE
          Hi.  Just checking to see if you're
          here.

                         MIKE
          I came on at 8:00.

An awkward silence.

                         MIKE
          You all right?

                         CLAIRE
          Yeah.

                         MIKE
          I'm sorry about what happened.

                         CLAIRE
          Listen, that was my fault.

                         MIKE
                  (disagreeing)
          I shouldn't have listened to you, I
          should've followed you right into
          the "can" the way he did.

                         CLAIRE
          If I had known I was going to have
          company, he was right next to me.  I
          think he heard me peeing!  I hate
          that, I am glad he's in jail.

She laughs, he smiles, both attempting to make light of
it.  But it's hard to make light of; the attempt quickly
fades.

                         CLAIRE
          Lieutenant Garber says when I
          identify him, they're going to lock
          him up and throw away the key.

MIKE nods; buttoning his lip.

                         CLAIRE
          I guess I'm supposed to do it in the
          morning.  Identify him.

                         MIKE
                  (uneasy)
          Sooner, the better.

                         CLAIRE
          He said he'd kill me.

                         MIKE
          Big talk... Desperate guy.

                         CLAIRE
          Right.  How could he do that if he's
          in jail and they've thrown away the
          key...?

MIKE is TORN.

                         MIKE
          It's the right thing to do.
          Identifying him.

She starts to walk away.

                         MIKE
          Claire?

                         CLAIRE
          Hmm...

                         MIKE
                  (holds up a book)
          You wouldn't happen to know what
          language they speak in India, do
          you?

                         CLAIRE
          Urdu and Hindi.

                         MIKE
                  (amazed)
          Yeah, what a woman.

He marks it in his CROSSWORDS:  she moves closer,leaning
over his shoulder to see.

                         CLAIRE
          Didn't do very well, did you?

                         MIKE
                  (a laugh)
          Nope... never finished one yet.  I
          hate these things.

                         CLAIRE
          You were reading my Renoir.

                         MIKE
          How did you know?

                         CLAIRE
          You put it back in the wrong
          place... Do you like Renoir?

                         MIKE
                  (thoughtful)
          They're kind of fuzzy.

                         CLAIRE
          You know why they're like that...?
          He was myopic... going blind.

                         MIKE
          No kidding.

In the SILENCE that follows, their eyes on each other,
appraising.

                         CLAIRE
          So, this could be your last night,
          huh?

                         MIKE
          Could be, I guess.

                         CLAIRE
                  (a thought)
          Want to go out for a drink?
                  (re: his surprised
                   expression)
          I mean, we're both sitting here, and
          Joey Venza's in jail...

                         MIKE
                  (a beat)
          Yeah, I like that!  Where you go, I
          follow.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT

CLAIRE and MIKE walking; her arm looped in his -- the
BLACK-AND-WHITE keeping pace alongside them -- their
conversation animated, clearly enjoying one another's
company.

                         CLAIRE
                  (laughing)
          You mean to tell me, a mugger would
          stay away from someone because they
          walked a certain way?

                         MIKE
          Absolutely.  Look at this.

He demonstrates a peculiar walk; arms and legs moving in
ridiculous awkwardness.

                         CLAIRE
          That's the dumbest walk I ever saw!

                         MIKE
                  (indignant)
          No, no seriously!  There's a study
          done on this, you walk this way, the
          muggers are gonna single you out.

                         CLAIRE
          And die laughing, because you're
          walking so stupid!

                         MIKE
                  (mock anger)
          Hey.  This is my business.  Do I
          tell you your business.

                         CLAIRE
          Okay.  Let's just see if a mugger
          gets me.

She takes off down the street; walking stupidly, worse
than he did -- he's LAUGHING as he WATCHES HER GO.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  PATROL CAR - NIGHT

The COPS following exchange dubious glances, getting a
glimpse of the strangeness.

                                            DISSOLVE TO:

INT.  PIANO BAR - NIGHT

CAMERA FINDING CLAIRE and MIKE, at a small table, in
darkness, a piano bar playing in the background.  The song
being sung is "SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME."

                         MIKE
          ... It was like... the minute I saw
          her... I knew.  She looked so damn
          adorable in a cop's uniform...
          puttin' on a big, tough act...

                         CLAIRE
          So it was "love".

                         MIKE
          Yeah.  It was.

                         CLAIRE
          And "is"...?

He hesitates; but nods.

                         MIKE
                  (confirming it)
          Yeah.

                         CLAIRE
          That's nice.  And you live in
          Queens?  With a child, and a dog...?

                         MIKE
          No dog.

                         CLAIRE
          I saw you with a dog, in my mind.

                         MIKE
          No dog.

                         CLAIRE
          But "nice".

                         MIKE
          Very nice.

Her envy is plain.

                         MIKE
          What about Neil?

                         CLAIRE
          You don't like him, do you?

                         MIKE
                  (a pause)
          What's to like?

                         CLAIRE
                  (amused)
          Tell it like it is.

                         MIKE
          You asked.

                         CLAIRE
          He's very caring, in his way.  You
          haven't seen him at his best.

                         MIKE
          You could do better.

                         CLAIRE
                  (laughs)
          I'll miss you, Mike...

ANGLE ON BOTH:  the music playing.

                         CLAIRE
          It was nice having you "watch over
          me"...

                         MIKE
          Yeah.  I liked being around you
          too... Claire.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  feeling a moment of awkwardness.

                         MIKE
          Let's go home.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  CITY STREET - NIGHT

The PATROL CAR keeping pace as the two walk home; the COPS
in the BLACK-AND-WHITE exchange a look at what they are
seeing.  MIKE is holding her arm, she's huddled up; she is
cold and he removes his topcoat and puts it around her
shoulders.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  CLAIRE'S BUILDING - NIGHT

The PATROL CAR comes to a STOP as MIKE and CLAIRE ENTER.

ANGLE ON THE TWO COPS AGAIN:  watching them go.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S ELEVATOR - NIGHT

As they ride up in silence -- on opposite sides of the
elevator -- looking at each other.  It comes to a stop,
and neither moves; the tension is palpable.

She steps out first, he follows.  She moves to the doors
and stops -- her shoulders visibly relaxing as he moves up
behind her.  But he stops, too.  And she turns.

ANOTHER ANGLE:  Both captive to indecision.  It is he who
makes it, just by staying immobile for too long.  She
smiles and takes off her coat, holding it out to him.  And
in the moment of exchange is the return to reality.

                         CLAIRE
          Good night, Mike.

                         MIKE
          Sleep good.

She turns to open the door.  Entering she -- and we --
suddenly can see Neil pacing in the hall, b.g.  He's
returned.  He looks up, worried and very upset.

CLOSE ANGLES ON FACES.

                         NEIL
          It's 3 o'clock in the morning.
          Where the hell have you been?

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  DOWNTOWN HEADQUARTERS - DAY

MIKE heading down a LONG HALL TOWARD GARBER'S OFFICE:
It's like running a gauntlet.

                         COP #1
          Hey, Mike, tough night.

                         KOONTZ
          I guess it happens, you know?  A
          chick gives you a ride in her
          limousine, the next thing she wants
          is to wear your clothes...
                  (a beat)
          ... I heard he had her underpants on
          his head.

That one got to him; stopped dead by it, he turns, giving
KOONTZ a challenging look.

                         COP #1
          Ease up, Mike.  Ain't nobody gonna
          tell the old lady.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  cooling down -- then girding himself for
GARBER.

                         KOONTZ
          Ain't the first time the taxpayers
          paid for a blow-job neither.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CORRIDOR - DAY

GARBER and MIKE on the carpet.

                         GARBER
                  (steamed)
          Don't tell me it was "no big deal,"
          it was out of line, it makes you
          look like an asshole, and it makes
          me look like an asshole.  She's
          coming in, in a few minutes to I.D.
          Venza.  If Steinhart's with her, I
          want you to apologize.
                  (in motion)
          Let's get this over with...

In the room next to the corridor, KOONTZ interrupts the
shift already there, entering.

                         KOONTZ
          Okay, we're gonna have a line-up
          here...

The OTHER COPS grab their things and scatter, not wanting
to get involved in another cop's headache.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  FARTHER DOWN THE CORRIDOR - SAME - DAY

CLAIRE approaching with NEIL, with T.J. on guard-duty.

                         GARBER
          Good morning, Miss Gregory.

MIKE AND CLAIRE catch each other's eyes.  He sees how
nervous she is.

                         CLAIRE
          It was my fault not Detective
          Keegan's, I'm sorry for all the
          fuss.

NEIL catches MIKE'S glance at her; reassures himself with
a glance at CLAIRE, straightens, still steamed from last
night.

GARBER picks up on it, not liking the tension, especially
not now; his eyes throw daggers at MIKE.

                         GARBER
                  (to Claire)
          You all ready?

                         NEIL
                  (playing the
                   protector role)
          Will this take long?

                         GARBER
          We'll see.

GARBER TURNS, getting them started.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  VIEWING ROOM - SAME - DAY

They crowd in; another MAN already standing there --
VENZA'S PARK AVENUE LAWYER.  A one-way window looks into
the brightness of the line-up (squad) room that's emptied
now and undergoing preparation by KOONTZ.

GARBER to CLAIRE, a professional reassurance.

                         GARBER
          They can't hear you, they can't see
          you...
                  (introducing pro
                   forma)
          Mr. Venza's attorney, Mr. Neuman;
          arresting officer Keegan...
                  (to Claire)
          Good luck.

With that, GARBER leads NEIL out.  NEIL manages a final
concerned stare at CLAIRE before he goes.  The DOOR
CLOSES.  MIKE, CLAIRE, and an unruffled MR. NEUMAN, THE
LAWYER, are left alone in the cramped space.


INT.  LINE-UP ROOM - SAME - DAY

KOONTZ beckons VENZA and the OTHER FOUR LINE-UP
PARTICIPANTS IN.

                         KOONTZ
          Okay, take a seat... you, put a
          couple phone books under your
          rear...

VENZA enters confidently, with the others.  He's number
three.  He takes his place, staring unconcernedly past the
bright lights toward the direction of the mirrored window,
as if he could see through it, into CLAIRE'S EYES.


INT.  VIEWING ROOM - SAME - DAY

CLAIRE, staring expressionless, her eyes etched with fear.
MIKE aware of that fear.  VENZA'S LAWYER waiting
patiently, casually.


INT.  LINE-UP ROOM - DAY

VENZA and the OTHERS WAITING, now STANDING ON DISPLAY.

                         KOONTZ (V.O.) (OVER SPEAKER)
          Will everyone except number three
          please take one step back?

VENZA'S JAW TIGHTENS, a flicker, before catching himself
and controlling the reaction.  Realizing.  She's making
positive identification.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SUBWAY - EVENING

MIKE, empty-eyed.  On his way HOME.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

ELLIE dressed for sleep, in a DISNEYWORLD T-SHIRT, pauses
to glance with worried eyes -- toward the living room
where WE HEAR the SOUND of a TV.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  on a couch, beer in hand -- mindlessly
watching.

                         ELLIE
          Coming to bed?

                         MIKE
          Few minutes.  Want to catch the
          news.

                         ELLIE
                  (hesitant)
          Should I wait up?  We've got to get
          up early for the beach tomorrow.

                         MIKE
          I'll be right up.

She accepts it, reluctantly -- returning to the BEDROOM.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  hitting the remote to SCAN the channels;
troubled.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S DEN - EVENING

CLAIRE at ease on the couch, staring, trying to follow the
images of the television.  NEIL, at the bar, pours them
both a drink.

                         NEIL
          They need me back in Miami, but I'd
          really like it if you could join me.
          The marlin fishing's supposed to be
          great off the Keys...

He steps forward with her drink.

                         NEIL
          The change would do you a world of
          good.

She straightens, suddenly attentive, in response to
something on the TV.

It's a REPORT FROM OUTSIDE THE COURTHOUSE, with the TV
NEWSMAN reporting:

                         TV NEWSMAN
          Denied bail, Joey Venza will remain
          behind bars at least until the time
          of the trial --

ANGLE ON NEIL, watching.

                         NEIL
          Hallelujah.

He gives her a drink, leaning down to kiss her on the
forehead.

                         NEIL
          At least now we can get on with our
          own lives.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE'S KITCHEN - MORNING

Where life has indeed returned to normal, except for the
heavy weight of memory.  MIKE, at the counter, makes
SANDWICHES, packing a cooler for the game.  He grabs TOMMY
with an arm-hook as TOMMY tries to swipe a sandwich on the
pass through.

                         MIKE
          Hey, not yet!  How many times...

Roughhousing TOMMY, MIKE gets him squealing.  ELLIE
enters, stomping her feet clean, coming in from the
garden.

                         ELLIE
          God, it's freezin' out there.

She blows on her hands, shows MIKE how cold, putting them
against his cheeks.

                         MIKE
                  (wincing)
          Ah!

She does it to TOMMY, too, except he's too fast for her,
yelling and squirming out of the way.  The PHONE RINGS.
ELLIE doesn't answer it.  TOMMY picks it up.

                         TOMMY
                  (a beat)
          Wait a sec.

He offers the phone out to ELLIE.

                         ELLIE
          Hello.
                  (a beat)
          Yes, just a second.
                  (hands it to Mike)
          It's the Whip.

MIKE takes it.  ELLIE turns to TOMMY, who yelps and darts
away, avoiding her cold touch.

                         MIKE
                  (into phone)
          Hey Lieutenant, how are you...?
          What?!
                  (to Ellie)
          Venza's out.
                  (back to phone;
                   pissed)
          Why didn't the I.D. unit or the
          D.A.'s office know about his sheet?
                  (a beat)
          Ah shit... Yeah, yeah, okay I'm on
          my way in.

He SLAMS DOWN THE PHONE, raging.

                         ELLIE
          What?

                         MIKE
          Goddamn Venza assaulted a taxi
          driver in the Bronx, thirteen months
          ago.  It's coming to court and the
          judge let him walk because of the
          pending case law.

In a fit of RAGE, he SWIPES at a MILK CARTON, sending it
HURTLING AGAINST A WALL.  ANGLE on TOMMY:  amazed.

                         ELLIE
          Mike, take it easy...

                         MIKE
          Take it easy!  I set her up.  I saw
          it coming.

                         ELLIE
          It's not your fault.  Mike, please
          get off the case.

                         MIKE
                  (distraught)
          It is my fault!  I'm responsible for
          her!

                         ELLIE
          Did you hear what I said?

                         MIKE
          Did you hear what I said?!!

SILENCE.

                         MIKE
                  (to Ellie, with
                   finality)
          I'm due on at seven.

He dumps the rest of the lunch preparations in the sink,
exiting.

ANGLE on TOMMY and ELLIE looking distraught.

                         TOMMY
                  (dismally)
          We're not going to the game, are we
          Mom?

                         ELLIE
                  (pulling herself
                   together)
          Sure we are, let's go!

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S KITCHEN - EVENING

MUSIC TURNED UP FULL.

CLAIRE spills red wine over the counter, uncorking the
bottle.  She leaves the stain, grabbing the bottle and a
wine glass, taking them with her, in emotional extremis.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  CLAIRE'S APARTMENT BUILDING - EVENING

ANGLE on MIKE:  as he rounds a corner ALMOST BUMPING INTO
the JOGGER from CLAIRE'S BUILDING; MIKE hurries,
sidestepping him, HEADING toward the ENTRANCE.

ANGLE FROM HIS POV:  CLAIRE'S FRONT ENTRANCE; extra
SECURITY -- A SQUAD CAR PARKED IN FRONT now.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  SPRINTING INWARD.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S VESTIBULE - SAME - NIGHT

The ELEVATOR DOORS OPEN and MIKE steps out, breathless,
confronting KOONTZ.  The MUSIC CONTINUES TO BLAST from
behind the closed apartment doors.

KOONTZ grabbing his stuff, massive understatement.

                         KOONTZ
          She's a little upset.  You're going
          to have to piss in a bottle.

He holds up a beer bottle; half-filled with urine.

                         KOONTZ
                  (packs it under his
                   arm)
          Sorry, I don't have any extras.
          Have a nice night.

HE WILLINGLY LEAVE, and MIKE WAITS but a split second,
before going to the doors.  They are closed.  MUSIC blares
from within.  No other response.


INT.  CLAIRE'S LIVING ROOM - SAME - NIGHT

Distraught, CLAIRE tries to bring herself back from the
brink, placing the wine bottle rack down after she's
poured.

                         MIKE (O.S.)
          Claire?

                         CLAIRE
                  (frightened)
          What do you want?

                         MIKE (O.S.)
          Open the door, will you?

                         CLAIRE
          I can't open it.

                         MIKE (O.S.)
          It's just me.  I want to talk to
          you.  Let me in...

The lock turns and it opens, but just a crack, enough to
see that she's hysterical, her eyes reddened from crying.

                         CLAIRE
          You put me life in danger.

                         MIKE
          No, you'll be safe.  We're gonna
          pick him up again...

                         CLAIRE
          And then what?  I'll never be safe.
          I'll have to leave the country!  You
          can't protect me, and you can't keep
          him in jail!  And you knew that all
          the goddamn time!

Near bursting, she SLAMS THE DOOR, leaving MIKE STUNNED:
Inside, the MUSIC is TURNED UP AGAIN to THUNDEROUS
PROPORTIONS.

Clenching his fists, MIKE PACES in frustration, then SLAMS
his fist against the wall -- NOTICING the door has failed
to FULLY SHUT.

HE PUSHES IT OPEN, ENTERING THE APARTMENT, CAMERA
FOLLOWING HIM as he looks for her.  The MUSIC, bounding
off the high ceilings and marble floors, is thunderous.


INT.  CLAIRE'S HALL - NIGHT

                         MIKE
                  (searching for her)
          Claire...?

He moves HURRIEDLY DOWN THE HALL to her BEDROOM, entering,
without warning, to SEE HER REFLECTION in the MIRROR as
she PULLS ON SOME CLOTHES.

                         MIKE
          What are you doing?

The dress on, she SWEEPS past him, heading toward the
doors.

                         CLAIRE
          You told me I'm safe?  I'm going for
          a walk in the park.

                         MIKE
          Claire, will you calm down?

                         CLAIRE
          I'm perfectly calm, I'm a normal
          human being.  I'm going for a walk
          in the park.

                         MIKE
          Claire...!

She heads out the bedroom door.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  HALL - SAME - NIGHT

ANGLE ON CLAIRE:  as she heads down the hall moving fast,
he's right behind her.

                         MIKE
          Stop, will you?!

HE GRABS HER, SPINNING HER AROUND.

                         CLAIRE
                  (struggling)
          Let go!

                         MIKE
          Stop being nuts!

                         CLAIRE
                  (hysterical)
          I trusted you!  I thought you cared
          about me?!

                         MIKE
          I do care about you!

                         CLAIRE
          More bullshit!  More bullshit!
                  (struggling)
          What kind of odds are they giving
          me?  There must be some kind of
          office pool.  One month?  A couple
          of days?

Their physicality reaches a CLIMAX with MIKE pinning her
against the wall, she, restrained by him, finally GIVING
UP, with a SOB, and COLLAPSING INTO HIS ARMS.

                         MIKE
                  (handling her close)
          Easy... easy... I'm not gonna leave
          you alone like this...

ANGLE ON CLAIRE:  gasping as she clings to him.

                         MIKE
          I'm not gonna let anything happen to
          you...

He holds her; makes a tentative move toward her -- and
stops.  She CLOSES THE DISTANCE.  THEY KISS.  They
separate, making sure.  They KISS AGAIN, certain.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

ELLIE startles awake, premonitorily.

ELLIE:  She turns in the darkness to look at the clock.
Heart beating, she reclines again, lying awake, realizing
what it was that woke her.  She listens, hearing it again.

A shuffling SOUND, something moving, outside.

She stirs, sitting up, listening.

ANGLE:  Only silence answers.

ELLIE gets up, dissatisfied by the silence, and moves to
the rear bedroom window.

AT THE REAR WINDOW, she looks out into the darkness.

HER POV - BACK YARD

It's almost impossible to see anything.  Nothing moves.


INT.  HALL/LANDING - NIGHT

ELLIE closes TOMMY'S door, listens again for the SOUND;
starts quietly down the stairs.


INT.  DOWNSTAIRS HALL - NIGHT

ELLIE reaches the ground floor, moving for the kitchen.


INT.  KITCHEN - NIGHT

ELLIE enters.  She GASPS.  A SMALL SHADOWED FIGURE TURNS,
CONFRONTING HER.  It's TOMMY, having left his room
earlier.

                         TOMMY
                  (hushed)
          There's somebody outside...

Recovering from the scare, ELLIE grabs him, relieved,
sinking to her KNEES and HOLDING HIM TIGHT.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

MIKE gets up, dressing.  CLAIRE watches from the bed.  He
returns her gaze, reluctant to go, but hesitating to touch
her again.  CLAIRE clasps his hand, bringing him closer.
They kiss, in affirmation.


INT.  VESTIBULE - NIGHT

MIKE stands by the front door as T.J. arrives to begin
his duty.

                         T.J.
          We're gonna need snow boots.

MIKE nods, absently, entering the elevator.  The PHONE
starts to RING in the apartment.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SUBWAY - EARLY A.M. - NIGHT

MIKE; miserable.  The "QUEENS" exit is SEEN APPROACHING
through the TRAIN WINDOW; he attempts to pull himself
together, rising, waiting for the train to stop.


EXT.  MIKE'S STREET - SAME

As MIKE rounds the corner and looks up.  His breath
catches.  His heart starts to pound.

AHEAD, lights ablaze.  ONE COP CAR is in front of his
HOUSE, and a JEEP (Belonging to SCOTTY).  MIKE BREAKS INTO
A RUN.


INT.  MIKE'S ENTRY - NIGHT - MORNING

He rushes in.  The front door is unlocked, lights are on,
but otherwise there is nothing different.  He hears
VOICES.


INT.  MIKE'S KITCHEN - NIGHT - MORNING

MIKE hurries in.  The room is bright.  SCOTTY and another
cop, BROOKLYN from the 117th, look up from the kitchen
table, nursing cups of coffee.  BROOKLYN is on duty;
SCOTTY has come over on his own.

TOMMY has long since been ushered back to bed.  ELLIE
making coffee at the stove, turns as MIKE enters.

She is okay, returning MIKE'S stare with embarrassment.

                         SCOTTY
          Calm down, everything is okay.
          Ellie reported a prowler.  Probably
          one of those peepers who've been
          making this neighborhood such a
          pleasure...

SCOTTY collects his gun from the table, rising.

                         SCOTTY
          We all look like hell.

                         BROOKLYN
                  (rising)
          Well, there you are...
                  (to Ellie,
                   unconcerned)
          I'll come 'round in the car from
          time to time so you can get some
          sleep.  Just keep the shades pulled.

He gives her a peck, yawning.

                         BROOKLYN
          Thanks for the coffee.

                         ELLIE
                  (to both)
          Thanks.  You're terrific.

SCOTTY waves her off with a goodbye, exiting after
BROOKLYN.  ELLIE turns back to MIKE.

                         ELLIE
                  (sheepishly)
          I'm sorry.  I know I heard noises...
          the detective's wife...

                         MIKE
                  (tensely)
          I want you and Tommy to stay with my
          mother.

She shakes her head, amused.

                         ELLIE
          Don't be ridiculous... That's all I
          need, rubbing up against your mother
          and grandmother every day... I can
          take care of myself...
                  (gently, to him)
          C'mon, let's go to bed... we all
          need some sleep...

CLOSE ON MIKE.  Feeling like absolute hell.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE AND ELLIE'S DINING ROOM - AFTERNOON

MIKE is threading his necktie.  ELLIE stands behind him,
in the kitchen, grinning.

                         ELLIE
          C'mon, don't make an issue of it.
          Do you want the fucking meatloaf or
          not?

                         MIKE
          D'you have to say "fucking" every
          other word?

                         ELLIE
          What was that?

                         MIKE
          You heard me.

                         ELLIE
          Jesus, Mike, somebody's been feeding
          you a line of crap.

                         MIKE
          What're you talking about --

                         ELLIE
          I'm talking about I've been talking
          this way for sixteen years and now,
          out of the blue, it's vulgar!

She leaves the room, slamming the door behind her.  He
looks at himself in the mirror, wondering what's possessed
him.

                         MIKE
          Fuck.  What's happening?


INT.  MIKE'S KITCHEN - DAY

MIKE sits at the table with a cup of coffee.  He watches
ELLIE from the window.

MIKE'S POV

ELLIE:  Tight jeans, workshirt, scarf tied around her
head, she looks great.  She looks up, rinsing a greasy
grill over a bucket of hot water, playfully sprays the
window with the hose, seeing him watching her.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SUBWAY - EVENING

MIKE walking along the platform amidst the crowded car,
returning to his work and his destination.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S ENTRY HALL - EVENING

A heavy silence.  MIKE sitting, on duty again.  He keeps
to himself.  He doesn't move from his chair.

CLAIRE finally enters.  She holds tensely, waiting, aware
of his mood.

                         CLAIRE
          Is everything all right?

His stare is unyielding.

                         MIKE
          Yeah.

                         CLAIRE
          They called here after you left...

                         MIKE
                  (sharply)
          She's okay.  Everything's okay...

He looks up.

                         MIKE
                  (anguished)
          I don't know you...

                         CLAIRE
          This is me, Mike.  There's nothing
          else...

                         MIKE
          You don't wash your clothes at the
          Boulevard Laundromat... you don't
          pick up your kids from some crummy
          public school... what is this?  A
          fuckin' joke?

                         CLAIRE
                  (beat; sustaining)
          Okay, then let's make it easy.  It
          was a mistake.  Don't make me feel
          guilty now that it's over, let's
          forget about it.

She walks away; MIKE sits.


INT.  CLAIRE'S STUDY

She turns to her table to resume work.  Scribbled pages
litter the surface.  Her hands betray her.  It's an effort
of will.  MIKE enters, moving closer.

Beginning to cry, she feels his embrace, turning into it.

                         CLAIRE
          Don't you think I know what this is
          doing.  I know you have a wife.  I
          know you have a family... I'm not
          asking for anything.  I don't want
          anything... Just please hold me I'm
          scared...

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S BEDROOM - EARLY A.M. - NIGHT

CLAIRE lies asleep.  MIKE leans over her as she wakes,
meeting his gaze, bringing him closer before he goes.
They kiss.  He withdraws, tenderly returning her gaze and
returning her to sleep.


INT.  HER HALLWAY - EARLY A.M. - NIGHT

T.J. standing in the hallway.

                         T.J.
          Mike...?

ANGLE ON T.J., as the bedroom DOOR OPENS -- REVEALING
MIKE.  T.J. recoils with surprise.

                         T.J.
          Oh, man.  I don't believe you.

MIKE steps out, closing the door behind him; distraught.

                         MIKE
                  (beat)
          All fucked up, T.J.

T.J. issues a long, saddened sigh; just staring at him.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE AND ELLIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

MIKE sits in a chair by the far wall, staring out toward
Manhattan, which glows palely, in the distance.  Now PAN
OVER THE BED where ELLIE lies asleep.  But as WE MOVE
CLOSE TO HER FACE, WE SEE she is not asleep; wide-eyed,
aware of MIKE in the chair.

                                            DISSOLVE TO:

INT.  MIKE AND ELLIE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT - LATER

ELLIE stirs as MIKE slips between the sheets.  She
embraces him, starts to kiss him.  He rolls over.

A moment of silence.

                         ELLIE
          You gotta get another tour.  We're
          gettin' too old for this.

                         MIKE
          I'm sorry.

                         ELLIE
          I'm not saying it's your fault.

More silence.

                         MIKE
          What did you do tonight?

                         ELLIE
          I watched TV.

                         MIKE
          What did you watch?

                         ELLIE
          I don't remember Michael, go to
          sleep.  You don't have to make
          conversation with me.

She snuggles up to him.

                         ELLIE
          I'll make a reservation tomorrow for
          early dinner.  You can sleep till
          noon.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  BROOKLYN RESTAURANT - EVENING

THE LIGHTS of New York beginning to sparkle against a
darkening sky; MIKE and ELLIE at a table that looks out on
the East River.  It's an OK restaurant, not the poshest in
the world.  ELLIE finds herself carrying most of the
conversation.  They scan menus to order.

                         ELLIE
          Hey, we qualify for the Senior
          Citizens Early-Bird Special... Did
          you see Tommy today?  He misses
          you...

                         MIKE
          Well.  This'll be over soon.
          Venza's such a nut job, we're bound
          to pick him up soon.

                         ELLIE
                  (carefully)
          I'd like you to switch to the day
          shift, Mike.  To be home for dinner.
          Helen insists that T.J. be home for
          dinner... That's why he's on the
          morning shift.

                         MIKE
          Well, T.J.'s... seniority... and
          all.
                  (evasive)
          I'll talk to Garber about it.

                         ELLIE
                  (girds herself)
          I already did.  I mean, I talked to
          his wife, and she talked to him...

                         MIKE
                  (stopped)
          You talked to his wife?

CLOSE ON MIKE:  incredulous.

                         MIKE
          My wife talks to his wife about what
          shift I'm gonna take?

                         ELLIE
          What's the difference?

MIKE is nonplused; not knowing how to respond.

                         ELLIE
          Unless there's some particular
          reason why it feels better to be
          around her at night.

He shakes his head, dismissively.

                         ELLIE
          Is there, Mike?

No response; MIKE having trouble with it.

CLOSE ON ELLIE:  sensing deception.  Her eyes begin to
glisten.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  seeing her distress.  Unable to hide his
own.

She looks at him -- and knowing him as well as she does,
is certain.  She puts a hand in front of her mouth in an
attempt not to cry.

                         ELLIE
          What, what is it?  Is it serious or
          what...?  Quit looking at me like
          that!  What's with this ridiculous
          silence?!

Her eyes flush with tears.

                         ELLIE
          Goddamn.  I never thought this
          would happen to me... you fuckin'
          sonofabitch...

She UPSETS her SETTING, GETTING UP from the TABLE, shaking
him off.

                         ELLIE
          I just want you off the case.  Get
          off it, or don't come home.
                  (her voice trembling)
          And I want you to remember... when
          we're old... that when this awful
          thing happened... I behaved like a
          lady.
                  (embittered)
          The kind of "lady" you apparently
          prefer.

                         WAITER
                  (approaching)
          We got some specials.

She BOLTS from the room; MIKE following her.

                         MIKE
                  (to the waiter)
          We'll be right back.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  RESTAURANT - PARKING LOT - NIGHT

She weaves toward the car.  MIKE goes after her.

                         MIKE
          Let me drive...

                         ELLIE
          Get away from me... get away!  She
          means that much to you, you stay
          with her.  But you come back, you
          come back for me.  Not for Tommy,
          not for your mother, or your fucking
          job, but for me.

                         MIKE
                  (tortured)
          El?  I'm sorry.  I do love you.
                  (with difficulty)
          And you are a lady.  I have so much
          respect...

She TURNS and SWINGS AT HIM, catching him SQUARE IN THE
NOSE; he's stunned and bleeding.

                         ELLIE
                  (through her tears;
                   screaming)
          You fucker!  Don't tell me how much
          respect you have!  You dumb mother
          fucking FUCKER!  Now get off this
          case or don't come home!!

She RUNS to her car, BURNING RUBBER as she PEELS out of
the PARKING LOT -- leaving MIKE, distraught, gazing after
her.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  PHONE BOOTH - BROOKLYN BRIDGE - SAME - EVENING

TRAFFIC ROARING BY -- revealing MIKE, upset, on a pay
phone, a finger in one ear, waiting for the phone to
answer.

                         MIKE
          Hey, T.J.?  Yeah, listen, I need a
          huge favor from you, man.  I know
          Helen doesn't like you to miss
          dinner, but I need you to switch
          shifts with me tonight.
                  (a beat)
          Just "personal".  I don't know what
          the hell I'm doin', I need some time
          to think.
                  (angered)
          Look, do it or don't do it, but
          spare me the fuckin' lecture, all
          right?

He HANGS UP:  miserable.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  CLAIRE'S BUILDING - EVENING

A SQUAD CAR parked in front, CAMERA PANNING to the DOORS,
as the JOGGER (MR. SPARKS) EXITS, dressed in his usual
outfit, POUNDING DETERMINEDLY across the street.

ANOTHER ANGLE:  as he LOPES INTO THE PARK.

ANOTHER ANGLE:  as he REACHES a STOPLIGHT CROSSING that's
"RED"; he waits to cross, jogging in place; crosses into
the park.  A sinister lone black LIMO approaches, slowing
to a stop behind him, its back door slowly swinging open,
engulfing our sight of him...

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  CLAIRE'S BUILDING - LATER

The "JOGGER" returning, obscuring his identity from the
parked PATROL CAR, by wiping his face with a towel.
Before heading to the door, where a DOORMAN stands guard,
he delays as though WAITING FOR SOMETHING.

It's happening:  A dainty teenage VIETNAMESE GIRL,
distracts the DOORMAN at his post, getting enough of his
attention SELLING FLOWERS, and SPOUTING VIETNAMESE, for
the "JOGGER" to SLIP BY, making it inside.

                         DOORMAN
          I know sweetheart... we have enough
          flowers here.

ANGLE:  VIETNAMESE GIRL, still spouting.

                         DOORMAN
          No, no, sweetheart... not here...
          get going... Okay.

ANGLE: VIETNAMESE GIRL, backing off, seeing the JOGGER
slip by and her mission accomplished.

                         VIETNAMESE GIRL
                  (sweetly, to Doorman)
          Have a nice day.

THE GIRL:  slyly cursing the DOORMAN in Vietnamese as she
skips off.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  BUILDING LOBBY - SAME

The "JOGGER," his face still obscured by the towel waits
for the elevator, as T.J., arriving, ENTERS the building.
They both enter the elevator in silence.

ANGLE on T.J. glancing at the JOGGER quizzically.  The
JOGGER avoids his stare, CAMERA TILTING UP to the
indicator, beginning to rise.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SPARKS' VESTIBULE

CLOSE ON "JOGGER'S" key, entering the LOCK.  IT TURNS.

CLOSE ON HIS FACE.  He ENTERS.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SPARKS' APARTMENT - SAME

As the killer closes the door.  He's in the kitchen.  All
is quiet in there.

IN CLOSEUPS, WE SEE his JOGGING SHIRT coming off,
revealing a shoulder holster; a specially designed "belt"
removed and laid on the kitchen table.  A "SILENCER"
within.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S KITCHEN - EVENING

CLAIRE eagerly and earnestly preparing dinner.  She makes
some fluffs, not really used to this.  CLASSICAL MUSIC
plays.  She looks up expectantly, hearing the FOOTSTEPS.

CLOSE ON CLAIRE:  surprised to see it's T.J.

                         T.J.
          Detective Keegan is... Mike...
          "Michael" asked me to tell you he's
          under the weather.

CLAIRE:  She handles it, crestfallen.

                         T.J.
          He'll probably take the morning
          shift.

                         CLAIRE
          He's okay?

T.J. spots, over his shoulder, the table, set for two.

                         T.J.
          Yeah, just... bad gut.  Y'know.

                         CLAIRE
          Oh.

Nothing left to say; she hides her disappointment with a
nod.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  CITY STREET - FIFTH AVENUE - NIGHT

Active with nightlife; CAMERA PANNING to a lone figure
walking in the night.  It's MIKE; his collar turned up
against the cold, his face grim and pensive.  He passes an
art gallery and PAUSES to gaze in, his eyes refocusing on
his own reflection staring back at him.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S APARTMENT - SAME - NIGHT

CLAIRE immobile, on a window seat in her LIVING ROOM, the
CLASSICAL MUSIC still playing softly in the background,
her eyes empty as she gazes out into the park.

THE MUSIC CONTINUES OVER:

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  CENTRAL PARK - NIGHT

Outside and far below, the GLOW from the tip of a
CIGARETTE REDDENS the darkness with an inhalation.

VENZA:  He stands, impervious to the cold, looking up at
the windows of CLAIRE'S apartment.

ANGLE UP TO CLAIRE:  SILHOUETTED in the distant window.

VENZA:  finishes his butt, flicks it, satisfied, getting
into HIS CAR curbside and driving away.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S VESTIBULE - NIGHT

T.J., DOZING as the ELEVATOR INDICATOR HEADS UPWARD --
finally reaching our FLOOR.

The DOORS OPEN, STARTLING T.J.  He stares at MIKE with
DISMAY.  MUSIC IS HEARD from just inside.

                         T.J.
                  (fatigued)
          Tell me I'm dreamin'.

                         MIKE
          I just gotta talk to her, T.J.

MIKE ENTERS, closing the doors behind him.


INT.  CLAIRE'S APARTMENT - SAME - NIGHT

Silent, save for CLASSICAL MUSIC -- as MIKE quietly
enters.

He pauses a moment, his eyes filled with unhappiness, then
MOVES in the direction of the MUSIC -- SPOTTING CLAIRE,
immobile since we last saw her, still gazing out the
window.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  as always, AFFECTED BY HER.

She becomes aware of his presence and slowly TURNS.  For a
long moment, neither seems willing to move -- or speak.
Finally, he does.

                         MIKE
          T.J. agreed to take my shift.  He
          knows about us.

She absorbs it, without response.

                         MIKE
                  (a beat; with
                   difficulty)
          So does Ellie.

She nods.  Thoughtfully.  As though willing to deal with
it intellectually, but avoiding any encounter with her
emotions.

                         CLAIRE
          You told her?

                         MIKE
          Not exactly.

                         CLAIRE
          What do you want to do?

                         MIKE
          I don't know.

Her eyes turn to his.  She moves toward him and sits.
CLAIRE pulls him close to her.  A soft GERSHWIN TUNE
plays.  She sees how drawn MIKE is.

                         CLAIRE
          You're tired.
                  (smiles, gently)
          Let me watch over you tonight...

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

It's quiet.  MIKE sleeps deeply on the bed.  CLAIRE does
her work at the bedroom desk nearby; glances gently over,
keeping her watch, glad of the feeling.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SPARKS' APARTMENT - SAME - NIGHT

The MERV GRIFFIN SHOW playing on the TV; it ends, a VOICE
OVER indicating to "stay tuned for the news".  It is
SILENCED by remote control -- we HEAR FOOTSTEPS moving
away.

ANGLE INSIDE THE KITCHEN:  CLOSE on the murderous
paraphernalia left on the kitchen table, being assembled
by the "JOGGER".

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S VESTIBULE - SAME - NIGHT

The apartment pin-quiet and darkened.  T.J. in his chair
-- head arched back; snoring; his self-help book abandoned
on the floor.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SPARKS' VESTIBULE - SAME - NIGHT

SPARKS' FRONT DOOR quietly "CLICKING" SHUT as the KILLER
EXITS.

CLOSER ANGLE:  THE BUTTON of the ELEVATOR being PUSHED by
a GLOVED HAND.  It activates a "HUM."

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S APARTMENT - SAME - NIGHT

LONG ANGLE down the HALL, on the CLOSED DOOR TO THE
BEDROOM SUITE.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S VESTIBULE - SAME - NIGHT

As the ELEVATOR slides to a stop, its DOOR GLIDING OPEN.
THE KILLER, keeping himself flattened back out of sight,
glances quickly out, gun and reflexes at the ready.

It's unnecessary.  The vestibule's deserted; T.J.'S post
is momentarily empty.

The KILLER steps silently, EASING out the elevator.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S APARTMENT - SAME - NIGHT

T.J. at the TOILET; yawning as he pees.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S HALLWAY - SAME - NIGHT

The KILLER pauses, hearing the TOILET FLUSH, retreats the
other way.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S APARTMENT - SAME - NIGHT

As T.J. emerges from the bathroom.  He stretches, trying
to shake his fatigue.  Making a decision, he HEADS for the
KITCHEN to get a cup of coffee -- CAMERA FOLLOWING HIM as
he ENTERS, snapping on the light.

MOVING directly to the stove, he examines the Mr. Coffee;
the red "ON" button glows, but the pot is virtually empty.

Picking it up, he MOVES TO THE SINK, turning on the tap,
which is a thin, gooseneck spigot.  He look up, hearing a
slight SHUFFLE, seeing the KILLER'S FEET sticking out of
the shadows of the floor of the LAUNDRY ROOM.

T.J. reacts -- TOO LATE -- there's a slight chung, and a
hole opens up in T.J.'S gut; the bullet that went through
him, ricocheting and nicking off the end of the thin,
curving tap, sending a stream of water gushing straight
up.

The KILLER moves quickly, catching T.J.'S body, trying to
break its fall as it hits the floor.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S BEDROOM - SAME - NIGHT

CLAIRE asleep in MIKE'S PROTECTIVE EMBRACE:  MIKE, awake,
his eyes to the bedside table, notices the almost
imperceptible disturbance of VIBRATION ripple the surface
of the DRINK left there by the clock.

MIKE sits up; as if by instinct, sensing something is
wrong.  CLAIRE continues to sleep.


INT.  CLAIRE'S HALLWAY/OUTER BEDROOM - SAME - NIGHT

The KILLER OPENS THE BEDROOM SUITE DOOR, steps into the
ANTEROOM.  Off to the right is the closed DOOR of the
BEDROOM.  He steps in the direction, reaching the doorknob
-- thinks twice about it, though, seeing the door on the
other side of the anteroom which would take him the
longer, but unexpected route into the bedroom.  He backs
off, moving silently to the OTHER DOOR, turning it open
silently and slipping through into the CLOSET and WALK-
THROUGH DRESSING ROOM leading to the bedroom by the far
side.


INT.  CLAIRE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

MIKE:  on the other side of the door, listening.

He opens the door quietly, sees the anteroom door ajar,
remembering that he had closed it before.  He tightens,
closing the door and moving back to his gun in its holster
draped over the chair with his other clothes.


INT.  DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

The KILLER enters the reflective maze.


INT.  MASTER BATH - NIGHT

MIKE moves silently, backtracking through the bedroom and
bathroom toward the DOORS leading to the dressing room
ahead.


INT.  DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT

The KILLER passes the door he wants, thinking it's just
another mirror; finds himself in the totally MIRRORED
ENVIRONMENT of the MAIN DRESSING AREA.

On the other side of the door, MIKE HEARS HIM, tightening
his grip on his gun and on the doorknob as he REACHES for
it.  MIKE grasps it, turning and opening the door
silently.  But the latch connects to the light, and the
LIGHT GOES ON OVERHEAD of MIKE.

The KILLER reacts quickly, gun drawn, on the turn.  But he
faces SEVERAL REFLECTIONS OF MIKE in front of him -- and
MIKE IS BEHIND HIM.

MIKE LEVELS AIM AT HIM.

                         MIKE
          Put it down!
                  (beat)
          Think about it!

The KILLER takes his chances, WHIRLING.  MIKE FIRES FIRST,
NAILING HIM right through the HEAD.  The KILLER SPINS
AGAIN, SLAMMING UP against the MIRRORS and falling DEAD to
the floor.

IN THE BEDROOM:  CLAIRE wakes.

MIKE:  checking quickly on the dead assassin, flattens
himself against the wall and scurries back through the
bath the way back into the BEDROOM.

                         MIKE
                  (entering, to Claire)
          Get on the floor!  There may be
          more!

CLAIRE does what he says.

MIKE RACES into the CORRIDOR, hugging the wall; he PAUSES
momentarily, then RACES down the HALL.

ANGLE ON THE OPENED FRONT DOOR as he REACHES IT, seeing
T.J.'S CHAIR empty.

                         MIKE
                  (desperate)
          T.J.!

MIKE RUNS, frantically, into the living room, the
bathroom, the den -- CAMERA FOLLOWING HIM into the
KITCHEN.

CLOSE ON HIS FACE:  twisting with GRIEF.

ANGLE ON T.J. face down in a pool of blood, MIKE RACING
TO HIM, rolling him over.

                         MIKE
                  (sobs)
          T.J...!

MIKE moves by REFLEX, starting mouth-to-mouth.  But there
is blood everywhere.

MIKE desperate; pumping T.J.'S chest.

                         MIKE
          Live, T.J.  Please...!

CLAIRE appears behind him, to help.

                         MIKE
                  (to her)
          Get security on the phone!
          Emergency!

She RUNS to the KITCHEN PHONE; it's dead, the WIRES CUT.

She TURNS, HURRYING to the VESTIBULE and THE ELEVATOR,
pulling the alarm, sagging in collapse.  The ALARM goes
off within the shaft, THROUGHOUT the building.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  shirtless and shoeless, on his knees in
T.J.'S blood, desperately pumping his chest.

                         MIKE
                  (his voice cracking)
          Ambulance!  Ambulance!  He's got a
          heartbeat...!

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - NEAR DAWN

MIKE alone on a bench, his head in his hands:  a couple of
COPS we recognize from the Precinct stand a distance away,
at a coffee machine, talking softly as they glance at him.
It is not yet dawn.

FOOTSTEPS are HEARD coming TOWARD; MIKE looks up to see
GARBER APPROACHING, his expression appropriate to the
occasion.  GARBER reaches him; they exchange a long look,
MIKE'S eyes etched with anguish.

                         MIKE
                  (softly)
          They're operating on him.  He's
          still alive.

                         GARBER
                  (grim)
          I heard.

A long pause, as he looks at MIKE.

                         GARBER
          I heard a lot... Anything you want
          to deny, Mike?

                         MIKE
                  (almost inaudibly)
          It should've been me...

GARBER:  aware of his own dilemma.

                         GARBER
          Then it would've been her, too.
                  (beat)
          I don't know... but I gotta protect
          the Precinct, too.  You're on
          suspension, pending Disciplinary
          Hearings.  Don't hold your breath.
          And you're not to go near that woman
          until she's no longer under Police
          protection and this case is closed.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  responding with a silent nod as GARBER
stands looking down at him.

                         GARBER
          Is it "love," Mike?  I hope so.  I
          want it to be worth it, for your
          sake.

No response.

In the response that follows, they HEAR MOVEMENT at the
end of the HALL, looking up to see the silhouetted figures
of ELLIE, with HELEN GREENING in tow.  They look small,
and lost, framed against a floor-to-ceiling window that's
beginning to illuminate with the first light of day.

Heavy with sadness, GARBER turns and heads toward the
women.  Taking a long moment.  MIKE decides not to follow.

CLOSE ON MIKE

CAMERA STAYS AT THIS DISTANCE as the THREESOME comes
together.  We do not hear their words, but sense the
emotion by what WE SEE.  After a brief exchange of words,
GARBER takes HELEN GREENING under his arm, and they MOVE
AWAY -- leaving MIKE and ELLIE alone.

CLOSER ANGLE:  MIKE and ELLIE, gazing at each other across
the gulf of their collective misery.

                         ELLIE
          I'm going to visit my sister for a
          few days.  I'd like you to get your
          stuff out.

                         MIKE
          What about Tommy?

                         ELLIE
          He'll live through it.  They all
          live through it.
                  (bitter)
          What a world, huh?

Nothing left to say; after a long, last look, she turns to
go.  But stops.

                         ELLIE
          Was it Venza?  Did you get him?

                         MIKE
          No.

The last thing she's going to do is cry.

                         ELLIE
                  (her voice giving
                   out)
          What a shame.

She TURNS and LEAVES:  MIKE gazing after her.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SCOTTY'S "BACHELOR PAD" - DAY

MIKE is being shown in by SCOTTY, luggage in hand, SCOTTY
doing his best to be a good "host," under trying
circumstances.

                         SCOTTY
          You see a couple of the parties that
          go on at this place, you'll realize
          that marriage is an institution
          whose time has come and gone.

Opening a bedroom door.  They've entered a bedroom that's
sparse, but decorated with A BOY'S PARAPHERNALIA;
skateboard, "rock" posters, etc.  It looks sad and barren.

                         SCOTTY
          Little Scotty stays on Wednesdays,
          and every other weekend.  And know
          what?  Our relationship's never been
          better.

MIKE stares at the room, his heart too heavy to respond.
SCOTTY, with a pat on the back.

                         SCOTTY
          Make it home, Mike...

He leaves -- and after a long moment MIKE sits on the edge
of the bed, like an automaton.  Staring.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S LIVING ROOM - SAME - DAY

CLAIRE and NEIL in the aftermath.  CLAIRE remains silent,
staring.  Whatever is to be said is his.

                         NEIL
                  (frustrated)
          I'm no saint, Claire, but I do love
          you.  I can understand the pressure
          of the circumstances... but what
          about when it's over?  Are you going
          to feel the same way about him?  Is
          he going to move in here and do
          shift work at the 21st if they'll
          have him back.  Think this through
          Claire.
                  (with feeling)
          This is the rest of your life we're
          talking about.

NEIL staring at her.

                         CLAIRE
          I have thought it through, Neil.

He adverts his gaze, turns, controlling himself, and picks
up his coat to go.

                         NEIL
          Call me if anything changes.  I love
          you, Claire.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S VESTIBULE - SAME - DAY

KOONTZ and a uniformed COP on guard duty.

KOONTZ scanning The Post, which has a front page article
on it with a headline that indicates the whole story has
not "quite" been told:  "INTRUDER SLAIN IN DARING EAST
SIDE BREAK-IN"

                         KOONTZ
          Unbelievable, man, the fuckin'
          jogger... they found him in Atlantic
          City, totally drugged out and still
          jogging...

The APARTMENT DOOR SWINGS OPEN and NEIL EMERGES.  KOONTZ
and the COP look up, straightening.  KOONTZ folds away the
paper.  But NEIL hardly even acknowledges or notices them,
EXITING.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CLAIRE'S STUDY - SAME - DAY

The PHONE RINGING -- CAMERA FINDING CLAIRE, looking like a
ghost of her past self -- REACHING FOR THE PHONE.

                         CLAIRE
          Hello?
                  (relieved)
          Mike.  Where have you been?

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  SCOTTY'S KITCHEN - SAME - DAY

MIKE on the telephone.

                         MIKE
          You don't want to know.

                         CLAIRE (V.O.)
          Oh, I do want to know.  I tried to
          reach you at the precinct.

                         MIKE
          I've moved into Scotty's... Good
          news about T.J., though.  Looks like
          that tough son of a gun is gonna
          pull through.

                         CLAIRE (V.O.)
          Oh God, that's great!

                         MIKE
                  (gently)
          Are you okay?

                                            CUT TO:

CLAIRE - SAME

                         CLAIRE
                  (trying to brighten)
          Oh, I'm fine.  They've replaced you
          with quite an entourage.  It's a
          regular "marching band".  You should
          see me on the street, you'd think I
          was the First Lady --

She attempts a laugh, trying to keep it "light".

                         CLAIRE
          I'm taking them all out to Queens,
          as a matter of fact, right in your
          neighborhood.  There's an event at
          my Father's school... an
          anniversary... I thought maybe you
          could come...

                         MIKE (V.O.)
          Oh that thing in Queens.

                         CLAIRE
                  (faltering)
          I'm going away after that, the next
          morning.

                                            CUT TO:

MIKE - SAME

Impacted by it.

                         MIKE
          Where?

                         CLAIRE (V.O.)
          Pretty far.  I'm told not to say
          anything about it on the phone, in
          case it's tapped... they think it's
          best, safer, if I go away, at least
          till Venza's found.

CLOSE ONE MIKE:  absorbing it.

                         MIKE
          When can I see you?

                                            CUT TO:

CLAIRE - SAME

                         CLAIRE
          I don't know.  Garber's left orders
          here not to let you in the building.

                                            CUT TO:

MIKE - SAME

CLOSE ON MIKE:  beat.

                         MIKE
          Oh yeah.  When is it?  This thing in
          Queens.

                                            CUT TO:

CLAIRE - SAME

                         CLAIRE
          Tomorrow night.  Can you come?

                         MIKE (V.O.)
                  (torn)
          I don't know.  It wouldn't be very
          smart.

                         CLAIRE
          Listen, you're right.  Don't do it.
          I'll just... send you an address,
          okay?

Fighting tears; not wanting him to know it.

                         MIKE (V.O.)
          Claire...

                         CLAIRE
          No really, it's okay, I've gotta go.
          I'm expecting some calls.  I'll be
          fine, really.

                         MIKE (V.O.)
          I'll think about Wednesday.

MIKE hangs up, torn.

                                            CUT TO:   
   
CLAIRE - SAME

Hangs up.


EXT.  QUEENS - SAME - DAY

CAMERA PANNING TO REVEAL MIKE, leaning on a CAR, under the
"El" waiting.  HE SPOTS TOMMY, coming around the corner
with his SKATEBOARD under his arm, going into a grocery
store.  MIKE crosses the street as TOMMY comes out of the
store.

                         MIKE
          Tommy!

TOMMY SPOTS HIM:  hesitant -- slowly approaching the car.

                         MIKE
          How are things going, pal?

                         TOMMY
          Okay, I guess.

                         MIKE
          How about dinner tonight?

                         TOMMY
                  (evasive)
          Mom and I got plans.

                         MIKE
          What "plans?"  You and Mom got
          "plans?"

                         TOMMY
                  (after a long pause)
          She's taking singing lessons.

                         MIKE
                  (incredulous)
          She's what?

                         TOMMY
          She met some friend of Aunt Millie's
          who works for a record company.  He
          thinks she's got a great voice.

TOMMY is mum:  something dawns on MIKE that sobers him up.

                         MIKE
                  (outraged)
          What!  What kind of pathetic line is
          that?

                         TOMMY
                  (pointing)
          We're gonna pass the street.

MIKE stops.  His goat is gotten.

                         TOMMY
          You coming in?

                         MIKE
          No, I'm not coming in.  And if you'd
          rather go to a "singing lesson" than
          have dinner with your father...

                         TOMMY
          We're not going to a singing lesson,
          she's just gonna start taking
          singing lessons.

                         MIKE
          So, what are you doing tonight?

                         TOMMY
          Shooting.

                         MIKE
          Shooting?

                         TOMMY
          Yeah.  She says we gotta get used to
          being alone in this neighborhood.
                  (a long beat;
                   observing his
                   father)
          'Bye, Dad.

TOMMY starts toward the HOUSE.  He's emotional, but
doesn't know how to express it.

                         MIKE
          Tommy!
                  (a parting shot)
          The guy's a sleaze-bag.  She can't
          sing.

                         TOMMY
                  (turning back,
                   smiling)
          I don't think she can sing, either.

                         MIKE
          Take care, pal.

HE TURNS AWAY.

ANOTHER ANGLE:  MIKE'S CAR LEAVING.  TOMMY watches it
until it can be seen no longer, then TURNS, going into the
house.

CAMERA PANS SLOWLY -- REVEALING, far down the BLOCK, a
CAR.  VENZA, and ANOTHER MAN (SOSA), are within:
WATCHING.


EXT.  STREET - NIGHT

MIKE pounds it out running on the darkened street.  He
pauses to look up at his dark, empty house as a PATROL CAR
slows to check him out.  He studies them as they pass.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  he gazes after them, then continues to
jog.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  FIRING RANGE - SAME - NIGHT

GUN BLASTS going off in OUR EARS, CAMERA PANNING A LINE of
COPS putting in their PRACTICE HOURS; ENDING ON ELLIE, her
EAR BLOCKERS on, FIRING AWAY.

CLOSE ON TOMMY watching from a booth behind her.

ANGLE ON HER TARGET.  Its balls blasted off.

She comes out.

                         TOMMY
          Aren't you supposed to aim at the
          head?

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  CAR - NIGHT

ELLIE in the driver's seat, TOMMY in the back seat.

                         TOMMY
                  (thoughtful)
          Mom, what's going to happen with you
          and Dad?

                         ELLIE
          I don't know Tommy.

A LONG BEAT as TOMMY thinks about this.  His attention
switches to a passing McDONALD'S.

                         TOMMY
          Hey, can we go to McDonald's?

                         ELLIE
          Absolutely.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MILTON GREGORY - BANQUET HALL - EVENING

Overhead, chandeliers gleam.  A small orchestra comprised
of STUDENTS of the school plays a variety of tunes.
Mirrors reflect a profusion of flowers, carved gilt and
candlelight.

Gloved service PERSONNEL wait to be of service at the
sides.  The room is quite large yet intimate.  The tables
set perfectly.  GUESTS continue to move toward their
places engaged in animated chatter.

ANOTHER ANGLE:  CLAIRE moving through the crowd,
PLAINCLOTHESMEN flanking her as anonymously as possible
(KOONTZ among them), HER EYES anxious, scanning the crowd.

SHE'S SPOTTED by the PRINCIPAL of the school (GIDDINGS),
who APPROACHES, surprised to see her.

                         GIDDINGS
          Hello, Claire.  How extraordinary
          that you came.

                         CLAIRE
          It was something my father always
          liked me to do.

                         GIDDINGS
                  (apprehensive)
          You're planning to speak?

                         CLAIRE
          Not if you don't want me to.

                         GIDDINGS
                  (a brief hesitation)
          Well, of course, we'd be...
          honored...

                         CLAIRE
                  (understands; gamely)
          Just putting in an appearance then.

SHE GLANCES around, her "ESCORTS" mistaking it for
anxiety, one of them taking her arm and escorting her in.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  THE BANQUET ROOM - LATER

SPEECHES droning on -- CAMERA FINDING CLAIRE at a round
dinner table, with OTHERS, who think they're engaging her
in conversation; but her thoughts are elsewhere, her eyes
continually glancing toward the doors -- both hoping and
fearing.

                                            DISSOLVE TO:

INT.  THE BANQUET ROOM - LATER

The SPEECHES have long since ENDED, PEOPLE DANCING, slow
dances to the live orchestra -- CAMERA PANNING to CLAIRE,
sitting in silent isolation at the now sparsely populated
table, having lost hope, feeling utterly alone.  Her chin
is resting in her hand, her eyes fixed sadly on her wine
glass.  PLAINCLOTHESMEN, situated around her, study her
dispassionately.

CLOSE ON HER FACE:  expressionless.  But it slowly gains
animation, as she realizes the MUSIC has changed, made a
segue to something new.  It's "SOMEONE TO WATCH OVER ME."

SHE LOOKS UP -- to see MIKE; his approach from the
bandstand indicating that the change of music was his
doing.

HER FACE breaks into the most enormous, and grateful,
GRIN.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  returning the smile as he COMES TOWARD.

                         KOONTZ
                  (as he passes)
          Don't do it, man.  I love ya, but
          you're out of your mind.

Uncaring, MIKE MOVES TO CLAIRE.

ANGLE ON BOTH:  gazing at each other.

                         CLAIRE
                  (overwhelmed)
          What a memory.

                         MIKE
          Do you dance?

                         CLAIRE
          Do you?

                         MIKE
          Pretty bad.

                         CLAIRE
          Let's do it.

They TAKE to the FLOOR, she MOVING INTO HIS ARMS.  She
puts her head on his shoulder, then draws back to look at
him, studying his face with the hunger of a woman who
knows it might be for the last time.

                         MIKE
          They guys treatin' you all right?

                         CLAIRE
                  (too emotional to
                   really talk)
          Yeah.

                         MIKE
          I've been doing a lot of thinking.

                         CLAIRE
                  (a pause)
          I know.

CLOSE ON HIM:  studying her saddened eyes.

                         MIKE
          It wouldn't work.

                         CLAIRE
          I know.

The conversation is deeply caring; the tone opposite to
the words.

                         MIKE
          I'd miss my life...

                         CLAIRE
          ... Don't explain.

She rests her head on his shoulders again; they continue
to dance.

                         MIKE
          How long you going away for?

                         CLAIRE
          Long enough.

                         MIKE
          "For"...?

                         CLAIRE
          "To"... Forget about you.

CLOSE ON HER:  awash in the nearness of him.

                         CLAIRE
          I'll have to pack a lot of clothes.

                         MIKE
                  (choked up)
          Yeah...

He holds her tight -- his eyes EMOTIONAL as they roam the
room --

But HIS EXPRESSION CHANGES as he SPOTS SOMETHING at a far
end of the room.  Near the rear doors.

It's a PLAINCLOTHESMEN, headed purposefully toward KOONTZ,
conferring with him -- both men looking to MIKE, a sense
of bewilderment in their eyes.

ANGLE ON MIKE:  Stopping -- as KOONTZ heads quickly
toward.

                         KOONTZ
          Brook's patching a call through to
          you.  He thought he'd find you here.
          It sounds urgent.

MIKE:  Baffled.

                         KOONTZ
          He says it's your son.

Exchanging a quick LOOK with CLAIRE, MIKE heads for the
DOORS; she pauses, heading after.

                                            CUT TO:

OUTER LOBBY - SAME

as MIKE BARRELS through doors.

                         KOONTZ
                  (pointing)
          The office down the hall.

MIKE BREAKS INTO A RUN.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  OFFICE - SAME

as MIKE RACES IN; A PLAINCLOTHESMAN hands him the phone.

                         PLAINCLOTHESMAN #2
          He's crying.

                         MIKE
                  (grabbing the phone)
          Tommy?  What...?
                  (frightened)
          What?!  Hello?
                  (listening; stunned)
          Who is this?
                  (trying to be calm)
          Yeah.  I'm listening.
                  (quick)
          No.  Nobody but me.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE'S HOUSE - NIGHT - SAME MOMENT

CLOSE ON the RECEIVER of the PHONE:  as JOEY VENZA'S mouth
SPEAKS into it --

The images of ELLIE and TOMMY SEEN, dimly lit, in the
background, petrified; GUARDED by a SECOND MAN (SOSA)
whose figure is shrouded in darkness.

                         VENZA
          I'm glad you're where I expected you
          to be, Detective Keegan, 'cause
          you're got two minutes to get home
          or I take your family out.

                                            CUT TO:

MIKE - SAME

caught in a nightmare.

                         MIKE
                  (desperate)
          I heard you.  I'll do it.  Just
          don't touch them.
                  (a beat)
          I...
                  (a pause)
          Lemme talk to my son.
                  (suddenly)
          Hello?

It goes dead.  MIKE PARALYZED with FEAR.  CLAIRE is
ENTERING, PLAINCLOTHESMAN #1 close to her heels, MIKE'S
breath coming in SHUDDERS as he stares helplessly at her
-- then turns to the PLAINCLOTHESMAN and KOONTZ.

                         MIKE
                  (stunned)
          They got my family.
                  (to Koontz)
          I need you guys.

                         PLAINCLOTHESMAN #1
          Who...

                         MIKE
          Venza.

OTHER PLAINCLOTHESMEN are COMING.

                         MIKE
          At my house...!

                         KOONTZ
                  (shouting to others)
          Call a cruiser!

                         CLAIRE
          ... Mike.

                         MIKE
                  (to Claire)
          It's Venza.  He wants you.  You, for
          Ellie and Tommy.

                         KOONTZ
                  (to Claire)
          Let's go.
                  (to others; urgent)
          We're takin' her home!
                  (swinging into
                   crisis mode)
          Move it!  Get the cars!

                         MIKE
                  (pleading)
          Koontz!  I need you guys!

                         KOONTZ
          We'll call SWAT.  We'll get the
          locals.
                  (re: another cops's
                   radio)
          Throw it!

                         MIKE
                  (pleading)
          No, I need'm now!

                         CLAIRE
                  (to Koontz)
          Go with him!

                         KOONTZ
          My job is to protect you!
                  (into radio)
          This is Koontz --

                         MIKE
                  (near hysteria)
          No One-Seventeen, they'll fuck it
          up!  He told me not to tell anybody,
          to bring Claire and come alone!  He
          won't wait, he knows I'm two minutes
          away!  Koontz, please!

                         KOONTZ
          I can't do it, you know that... He's
          not gonna allow it anyway, Mike.  No
          way is he gonna let anybody walk out
          of that house alive, who can finger
          him.

MIKE WHIRLS, heedlessly, running for the DOORS, CLAIRE
RACING AFTER HIM.

                         PLAINCLOTHESMAN #1
                  (calling after her)
          Hey...!

                         CLAIRE
          Mike!  Don't go there...!  Then make
          them come with you!

                         MIKE
          They can't, they're assigned to
          you!  I'd do the same thing!

He RACES OUT THE DOOR:  she in PURSUIT.

                         KOONTZ
                  (re: Claire)
          Go get her.

PLAINCLOTHESMAN #1 hurries out.

                         KOONTZ
                  (reconsidering)
          Fuck it, man.  Our brother needs us.
          Let's go.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  MILTON GREGORY SCHOOL - SAME MOMENT - NIGHT

MIKE BOUNDING to his car, CLAIRE hot on his heels.  She
JUMPS into the PASSENGER SEAT, pounding the DOOR LOCK
SHUT.

                         MIKE
                  (into his car)
          Go!  Get outta here!

PLAINCLOTHESMAN #1 REACHES HER, pulling on the DOOR.

                         PLAINCLOTHESMAN #1
          Hey!

                         MIKE
          Get OUT!

                         CLAIRE
          They're assigned to me, they'll have
          to go if I come with you!

MIKE HESITATES.

                         CLAIRE
                  (screaming)
          I'm not getting out!  GO!

MIKE hits the ACCELERATOR -- PEELING OUT, leaving
PLAINCLOTHESMAN #1 stranded on the curb.

                         KOONTZ
                  (calling to him,
                   emerging)
          Adams...!  C'mon, move it!

ANGLE ON COPS:  RACING FOR THEIR CARS -- SCREECHING OUT.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  STREETS OF QUEENS - SAME - NIGHT

MIKE'S CAR tearing down the STREET -- PURSUED by TWO MORE
SQUAD CARS, one of them not knowing better, GIVING VOICE
TO HIS SIREN!

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  MIKE'S CAR - SAME - NIGHT

MIKE'S terrified eyes glancing into the REARVIEW MIRROR.

                         MIKE
          Turn off the siren...!

Luckily, THEY DO.

CLOSE ON CLAIRE:  wide-eyed.  In silence.

                         MIKE
                  (breathless)
          We get there, you get down, stay out
          of sight.  Don't get near that
          house.  Understand me?  Venza's not
          to know you're there!

She NODS:  terrified.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  MIKE'S HOUSE - SAME - NIGHT

As MIKE'S CAR COMES TO A SCREECHING HALT, MIKE RUNNING OUT
as CLAIRE DUCKS DOWN.  The house is COMPLETELY DARKENED,
blending in with the night; the PURSUIT CARS CONVERGE as
MIKE makes it to the DOOR, his HANDS TREMBLING as he
FUMBLES with his KEYS... takes a deep breath... and
ENTERS.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  THE HOUSE - SAME - NIGHT

Darkened and pin-drop silent.  They only thing that can be
heard is the SOUND of CAR DOORS slamming outside, as COPS
run into combat positions.

                         MIKE
          Tommy?  Ellie...?

The SOUND of a MUFFLED WHIMPER comes from the kitchen; he
HEADS TOWARD down a narrow HALLWAY.  He falters, ALMOST
STEPPING on a SKATEBOARD.

                         MIKE
                  (calling out)
          I'm not armed!  I'm the only one in
          here!  I can help you get away if
          you listen to what I say!

He's used to the SOUND OF HIS VOICE to mask the slight
"roll" of the SKATEBOARD under his foot:  He's sliding it
into the middle of the doorway.

                         MIKE
          I'm comin' in the kitchen!  If you
          fuckin' shoot me, they'll come in
          here, and we're all dead!  You hear
          me, Venza?!

No answer -- MIKE continues on, girding himself as he
steps into the KITCHEN DOORWAY.  He tries the light-
switch; it doesn't work.  And then a VOICE SPEAKS.  Its
breath, like his, is labored; the VOICE CRACKLING with
tension.

                         VENZA
          You made a terrible mistake, Keegan.
          You didn't do what I said.

                         MIKE
                  (his voice shaking)
          That's right, you're gonna do what I
          say.
                  (desperate)
          Joey.  I want to help you out of
          this.

                         VENZA
          You should'a brought the girl.

                         MIKE
          I brought the girl.  She's outside.

He MOVES to the WINDOW; it's right BESIDE THE TABLE.
VENZA TENSING.

                         VENZA
          Hold it...!

                         MIKE
          I'll prove it!

He LIFTS THE WINDOW, CALLING OUT:

                         MIKE
          Claire!

                         CLAIRE (V.O.)
          Mike...?

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  THE HOUSE - SAME MOMENT - NIGHT

CLAIRE, having shouted from behind a COP CAR:  KOONTZ
grabbing hold of her to keep her in place.

                         KOONTZ
                  (a hiss of warning)
          Not another word until I tell you.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  KITCHEN - SAME MOMENT - NIGHT

VENZA; wary.

                         VENZA
          How do I know that's her?

                         MIKE
          I'll bring her in.  You let them go,
          and I'll bring her in.

                         VENZA
                  (wary)
          Why should she come in?

                         MIKE
          She trusts me.  She'll do what I
          say.

                         VENZA
          Bullshit!  Prove it.

                         MIKE
                  (calls out the
                   window)
          Koontz!  Let her come in!  Claire!
          It's pitch dark in here!
                  (his words are
                   carefully chosen)
          You're gonna have trouble seeing
          anything, so just come in, and
          straight down a long hall.  Then
          stand at the door so we can see you.
          We want to see your face and we
          won't be able to until you get to
          the kitchen door!

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  THE HOUSE - SAME MOMENT

KOONTZ receiving his "message".  Quickly assessing CLAIRE,
he looks to the COPS around him -- then GRITS HIS TEETH
with DECISION.

                                            CUT TO:

INT.  THE KITCHEN - SAME - NIGHT

                         MIKE
          I want your guarantee they'll be
          turned loose when she opens the
          front door.

                         VENZA
          I get my hostage first.  No one's
          turned loose until I say so.

                         MIKE
          Let my kid go.

                         VENZA
          I'm not lettin' no one go.

                         MIKE
          Get that gun away from his head, or
          I'll keep her from coming in!  Put
          the gun on me, he can't hurt you!
          He's tied up!  Put him under the
          table!

                         VENZA
          Don't you fuckin' give orders to
          me...

                         MIKE
          Put him under the table or I'll stop
          her from coming in.

MIKE turns to the window, about to shout.

                         VENZA
                  (to Tommy, an order)
          Under the table.

                         MIKE
          I'll take his place, all right?  Put
          the gun to my head.

MIKE YANKS TOMMY under the TABLE, taking HIS PLACE in THE
CHAIR; the COCKED GUN presses up against MIKE'S TEMPLE.

ANGLE ON ELLIE:  Her widened eyes continuing to INDICATE
"beneath the table".

CLOSE ON TOMMY, ON HIS KNEES, his hands tied behind his
back; emitting a whimper of terror.

                         ELLIE
          Be careful, Tommy.

HE LOOKS UP:  SPOTTING HER GUN, where she'd hidden it for
safe-keeping, TAPED SECURELY, just OVER HIS HEAD.

The FRONT DOOR OPENS -- with a SLOW CREAK -- the FIGURE OF
CLAIRE, her dress silhouetted by the moonlight from
outside, SEEN standing in the front hallway.

                         MIKE
                  (frantic)
          Claire!  It's dark.  Watch your
          step.  Come slowly.

ANGLE ON TOMMY:  trying desperately to get his hands, tied
behind his back, within reach of the GUN taped over his
head.  It's impossible.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  eyes darting to ELLIE -- as the FIGURE
slowly APPROACHES down the DARKENED HALL, his HAND
lowering beneath his knees, within reach of TOMMY, under
the TABLE.

ANGLE ON TOMMY:  in a near HEADSTAND, his small hands
managing to TOUCH THE TAPE, his fingernails futilely
attempting to DIG BENEATH IT -- as the FOOTSTEPS continue
to APPROACH down the DARKENED HALL.

ANGLE ON THE FIGURE:  almost at the kitchen door -- about
to STEP INTO THE LIGHT.

                         MIKE
          Watch your step!

                         VENZA
                  (rising)
          What the fuck you doin'?!

TOMMY'S HANDS are on the GUN.

                         MIKE
          There's a skateboard in the door!

With a sudden SOUND of TAPE "RIPPING" from under the
TABLE.  ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE.  TOMMY ROLLS, THRUSTING THE
GUN INTO MIKE'S HAND as the FIGURE at the DOOR KICKS THE
SKATEBOARD, sending it ZOOMING INTO THE ROOM.  VENZA LEAPS
ASIDE AND FIRES, the FIGURE at the DOOR OPENING FIRE in
RETURN.  MIKE LEAPS FOR ELLIE, knocking her off her CHAIR,
rolling FAST as the ENTIRE KITCHEN ERUPTS IN GUNFIRE.

ANGLE ON ELLIE:  throwing herself OVER TOMMY, BULLETS
"PINGING" AROUND MIKE as he ROLLS, RETURNING THE FIRE.
The pitch-black kitchen shudders with BANGS and FLASHES
like the Fourth of July, mixed with the "WHINE" of bullets
hitting pots and pans, and the sight of BODIES hurtling
through the dark.

The "FIGURE AT THE DOOR" is firing with both hands,
SCORING A HIT ON VENZA'S ACCOMPLICE, who goes down,
wounded, HIS GUN CLATTERING to the FLOOR.  He REACHES for
it, but ELLIE GETS THERE FIRST, grabbing it with her two
hands tied in front of her.

                         ELLIE
                  (to Tommy)
          Stay down!

The ACCOMPLICE is staggering upward as ELLIE gets to her
feet, SQUARING OFF in POLICE STANCE -- and FIRES, catching
him square between the SHOULDER BLADES; HE SPINS, crashing
BACKWARDS through the GLASS DOOR -- SWISH-PAN to VENZA,
trying to get out THE KITCHEN WINDOW...

                         MIKE
          Turn around, fuck!

He DOES, BLASTED by MIKE, and the "FIGURE" in the door,
SIMULTANEOUSLY.  He falls out the window, but still has
life in him, staggering to his feet, and hit by SPOTLIGHTS
from the CARS OUTSIDE.  In a sudden barrage, he's hit by
CROSSFIRE, SPINNING, LURCHING -- finally going down.

And then all is quiet.

INSIDE THE KITCHEN -- all sound and movement has suddenly
ceased; everyone is a state of shock.

                         ELLIE
                  (desperate)
          Tommy...!

                         TOMMY
          I'm all right.

                         MIKE
          Ellie...

                         ELLIE
          I'm all right.

The overhead LIGHT is SNAPPED ON by the "FIGURE" in the
doorway -- revealing it to be KOONTZ.  In CLAIRE'S DRESS.
Guns in both hands, still smoking.

                         KOONTZ
                  (emphatic)
          Fuckin' miracle, man.

In the BACKGROUND distant SIRENS are HEARD heading toward.
The SWAT squad.  CAMERA MOVING ACROSS THE FACES OF ELLIE,
TOMMY, MIKE... and KOONTZ; all holding in place.
Listening to them come.

                         KOONTZ
                  (re: the sirens)
          Told you they'd be here in a few
          minutes.

The grim humor of it is registered in SILENCE.  MIKE picks
up VENZA'S HUNTING KNIFE from the floor, cutting through
the ropes that bind TOMMY'S and ELLIE'S HANDS; she PULLS
TOMMY to HER, in a tearful EMBRACE, shielding his face
from the ghastly sight of the man, lying dead, on the
floor.

OTHER PEOPLE are MOVING INWARD, CLAIRE among them, clad in
an OVERSIZED POLICE OVERCOAT -- looking frail and
frightened, SHUDDERING WITH RELIEF when she sees that all
are safe.  But there is no mistaking the presence of
something else in her eyes.

CLOSE ON CLAIRE'S FACE:  gazing at MIKE, his family
wrapped in his protective embrace.  He LOOKS UP, meeting
her eyes.

                         CLAIRE
          Everyone's all right...?

                         MIKE
          Yeah.  It's all over.

LONG ANGLE on the ROOM:  dimly illuminated by the single
light, shed from the opened refrigerator door, as people
begin to move -- awakening to life, and its necessary
details, in the aftermath of the crisis.

                                            CUT TO:

EXT.  THE HOUSE - SAME

The LAWN virtually FILLED with POLICE VEHICLES, their
revolving red lights illuminating the grim scene; a small
gathering of onlookers gawking from behind police ropes,
AMBULANCES pulling SLOWLY, SILENTLY, away.

CAMERA PANS to two figures ALONE, beside a squad car, in
the distant shadows.  It's CLAIRE, still clad in the
police overcoat, and MIKE.  They are together, but
separate, maintaining the proper distance to say goodbye.

CLOSER ANGLE ON THEM:  not knowing quite what to say.

                         MIKE
          So.

                         CLAIRE
          So.

ANGLE ON BOTH:  their eyes locked into each other's.

                         MIKE
          You still going away?

                         CLAIRE
          I don't know...

                         MIKE
          You don't have to, now.

                         CLAIRE
          I think it's probably still a good
          idea.

CLOSE ON MIKE:  getting her message.

                         MIKE
          Yeah...

Both are hurting.

                         CLAIRE
                  (heartfelt)
          I'll miss you, Mike.

                         MIKE
          Listen, I'll... see you again.

Her eyes are glistening; she gives him a bracing smile.
But he can't quiet manage it.

                         CLAIRE
                  (barely able to
                   speak)
          Say goodbye.

He struggles with it; unable.

                         MIKE
          I like your coat.

                         CLAIRE
                  (half-laugh, half-cry)
          You have a weakness for Lady Cops.

                         MIKE
          I do.

Silence now; their eyes adoring.

                         CLAIRE
          Say goodbye, Mike.

                         MIKE
                  (thick voiced)
          You take care.

MIKE TURNS -- CAMERA MOVING WITH HIM as he WALKS SLOWLY
AWAY -- finding himself on a collision course with GARBER.
They meet, spending a long moment in non-communicative
greeting.

                         MIKE
                  (finally)
          What do you think?
                  (a beat)
          Any chance?  There's nothin' else
          I'm any good at, but this.

                         GARBER
                  (noncommittal)
          Call me next week.  We'll talk about
          it.

MIKE absorbs it, looking up to SEE ELLIE and TOMMY, beside
a SQUAD CAR, a distance away.  Girding himself, he HEADS
TOWARD.

ANGLE ON ELLIE AND TOMMY -- as he APPROACHES, and stands
beside them.  Not much to say.  Finally he reaches out and
tousles TOMMY'S hair.

                         MIKE
          Good police work, kiddo.

He catches ELLIE'S eye, both assessing each other.

                         ELLIE
                  (re: Tommy)
          He doesn't want to sleep here.
                  (a long beat)
          Neither do I.  It's not my house
          anymore.

                         MIKE
          Me neither.

ANGLE ON ALL:  finding each other's eyes.

                         MIKE
          Let's find some place to start over.

MIKE puts an arm AROUND TOMMY -- and the CAMERA BEGINS A
LONG PULLBACK, as ELLIE moves to his side, and the KEEGAN
FAMILY begins to MOVE AWAY.  WE SEE CLAIRE, being helped
into a SQUAD CAR, turning to look back at them as it PULLS
AWAY -- CARS REVVING UP and PULLING OUT, in ALL
DIRECTIONS.

From a distance, we HEAR MIKE'S VOICE.

                         MIKE (V.O.)
                  (to Ellie)
          What this crap about singing
          lessons?

                                            FADE OUT.

                         THE END