PLAYBACK
An original Screenplay
by
Raymond Chandler
Final Draft
March 24, 1949
Property of Universal-MCA
Hollywood, CA. USA
FADE IN:
EXT. OPEN LANDSCAPE WITH RAILROAD TRACKS -- DAY
LONG SHOT
A STREAMLINER coming TOWARDS CAMERA which is off to one
side of tracks. The landscape has pine and fir trees and
is a northern Washington landscape.
As the streamliner passes, the CAMERA PANS around following
it and stops. The streamliner tears off into the distance
and in the foreground is WE SEE a RAILROAD SIGN --
"EVERETT WASH"
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. STREAMLINER IN MOTION - CORRIDOR -- DAY
SHOWING OPEN DOORS OF FOUR ROOMETTES
Through the windows can be seen the landscape through which
the train is passing. In the first roomette, counting from
the left, is a well-dressed, rather wise-looking FEMALE,
young, smart. She is making up her face.
In the second is a middle-aged couple, a CANADIAN
IMMIGRATION INSPECTOR and a CANADIAN CUSTOMS INSPECTOR.
In the third, BETTY MAYFIELD is seated near the window,
turning over the pages of a magazine. She is about 27 years
old, beautiful, blonde, and has a remote troubled
expression, as though her thoughts were far away.
The fourth is empty. There is a man's suitcase in evidence
on the seat. LARRY MITCHELL enters from the left. He is
tall, good-looking, young, with superficial charm and rather
too much self-assurance.
He glances in at the woman in the first roomette, stops in
the door and leans against it.
We MOVE IN so this scene becomes a SHOT of a single
roomette. OVER SCENE is HEARD the voices of the Canadian
Immigration Officer.
CANADIAN OFFICIAL (O.S.)
Good afternoon. You name, please.
PASSENGER (O.S.)
George Olson.
MITCHELL
(to the unknown
woman)
Better stop while it's still
perfect.
She looks up at him with a slow stare.
CANADIAN OFFICIAL (O.S.)
And where were you born, Mr. Olson?
PASSENGER (O.S.)
Waukegan, Illinois.
UNKNOWN WOMAN
(to Mitchell)
Is there something I can do for
you?
MITCHELL
There are a lot of things you could
do for me.
IMMIGRATION INSPECTOR (O.S.)
And this is your wife, Mr. Olson?
PASSENGER (O.S.)
Yes. She was born in Waukegan,
too. Same as Jack Benny, you know.
OFFICER (O.S.)
(puzzled)
Jack Benny?
UNKNOWN WOMAN
(to Mitchell)
Well, there is something you could
do for me.
MITCHELL
I'd be delighted.
UNKNOWN WOMAN
You can move to one side. So my
husband can get in.
Mitchell glances back, then moves to one side with a smile.
He is quite unperturbed. A rather decrepit MAN creeps past
him into the roomette with the unknown WOMAN. She gives
Mitchell a quick flashing smile. Mitchell grins, turns
away.
CAMERA PULLS BACK AND PANS HIM PAST THE NEXT ROOMETTE
We now see the IMMIGRATION and CUSTOMS OFFICIALS and two
MIDDLE-AGED PASSENGERS.
CUSTOMS OFFICIAL
(to Olson)
Any firearms? Dutiable articles of
any kind, Mr. Olson?
Olson shakes his head.
CAMERA PANS Mitchell past this door to the door of better
Mayfield's roomette. He leans in this as he did in the
unknown Woman's roomette.
MITCHELL
(to Betty)
Would you care to see the Seattle
paper?
Betty turns slowly, stares at him.
BETTY
No thanks, I've seen Seattle.
MITCHELL
My name's Larry Mitchell. I live
in Vancouver.
Betty says nothing.
MITCHELL
Same as an hour ago. Remember?
I'm the steady type.
BETTY
(coldly)
I'm afraid there's nothing I can
do about it, Mr. Mitchell.
CAMERA NOW HAS MOVED IN CLOSE enough to exclude the other
roomettes completely.
MITCHELL
You could tell me your name. And
where you're going.
BETTY
How far does this train go?
MITCHELL
Vancouver, B.C.
BETTY
I'm going to Vancouver, Mr.
Mitchell.
She picks up a magazine and opens it, ignoring him.
MITCHELL
O.K. Be rugged.
He turns, starts out, then looks back at her.
MITCHELL
You're next for the Immigration
and Customs. I trust your papers
are all in order.
Betty looks up quickly and cannot conceal a startled
expression. Mitchell reacts.
CAMERA PULLS BACK as he comes out into corridor, looks
towards the roomette in which the officials are, then turns
towards the next roomette and goes into it. Fusses with
his suitcase.
CAMERA PANS across to the officials coming out of Olson's
roomette. As they come out of Olson's roomette.
CANADIAN IMMIGRATION OFFICIAL
I hope you will enjoy your stay in
Canada, Mr. Olson.
OLSON'S VOICE (O.S.)
Thanks.
Canadian officials then go on to Betty's roomette, enter.
CANADIAN IMMIGRATION OFFICIAL
Your name, please.
BETTY
Betty.. Mayfield.
There is a perceptible hesitation which immigration
officials notices.
OFFICIAL
Betty Mayfield. Miss or Mrs.
Mitchell is seen in his roomette, standing near the door
listening.
BETTY
Miss Mayfield.
OFFICIAL
And where were you born, Miss
Mayfield?
BETTY
New York, City.
The official is a little suspicious. He looks down at
Betty's hands which are clasped in her lap.
OFFICIAL
I see you are wearing a wedding
ring.
BETTY
I've been married. My Husband..
(she breaks off and
bites her lip)
INSPECTOR
Then I take it Mayfield was not
your married name?
He is very polite, but is building up to asking for some
identification papers. One this cue, Mitchell comes out of
his roomette, crosses, enters Betty's roomette.
CAMERA MOVES IN
MITCHELL
I've wired ahead to--
He breaks off, turns to Inspector, recognizes him.
MITCHELL
Inspector Gillette, Isn't it? I'm
Larry Mitchell. We've met before,
several times.
He takes out wallet and holds it out to Inspector.
MITCHELL
I cross the border so often I carry
an identification card.
INSPECTOR
(glancing at card)
Yes, I remember you, Mr. Mitchell.
(glancing at Betty)
You know this lady?
MITCHELL
Very well. Since 1940, at least.
I met her--let me see--it was New
York City, wasn't it Betty?
Betty nods silently. Inspector turns back to her, handing
Mitchell's wallet back.
INSPECTOR
(to Betty)
How long do you expect to be in
Canada, Miss Mayfield?
BETTY
Oh.. a month.
INSPECTOR
(making up his mind)
Thank you. I hope you have a
pleasant trip.
He turns away, starts out.
CUSTOMS INSPECTOR
(to Betty)
Any firearms? Dutiable articles of
any kind?
BETTY
No.
CUSTOMS OFFICIAL
Thank you.
He marks her baggage.
MITCHELL
(to Customs Inspector)
My suitcases are open in the next
room.
CUSTOMS INSPECTOR
(to Mitchell)
Anything dutiable, Mr. Mitchell?
MITCHELL
No. Nothing.
CUSTOMS INSPECTOR
Thank you.
Custom Inspector goes out. Mitchell sits down, looks at
Betty coolly. She avoids his eyes.
MITCHELL
Better get rid of the wedding ring.
That's what threw him.
Betty looks out of the window, says nothing.
MITCHELL
Trouble?
Betty turns her head and looks at him without speaking.
Her face is empty of expression.
MITCHELL
Or Reno?
(a beat)
They always throw them off the
bridge there, I've heard.
BETTY
Perhaps I don't take it so lightly.
MITCHELL
Where are you staying in Vancouver
Royal. It's pretty crowded you
know.
BETTY
Is it? I expected to go to the
Vancouver Royal. Should I have a
reservation?
MITCHELL
I'll make one for you.
(a beat)
I live there.
BETTY
(doubtfully)
Well..
MITCHELL
(quietly)
A very small service. It doesn't
even ask for thanks. How long for?
BETTY
I really don't know.
MITCHELL
Indefinitely?
BETTY
(with a shrug)
I don't know.
MITCHELL
(eyeing her
thoughtfully)
You don't know.
He turns and goes. She looks after him, puzzled and rather
attracted. Then his mood passes and she relapses again
into her listless, hopeless manner. She reaches for the
magazine and starts to leaf through its pages indifferently,
as we
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ROYAL HOTEL -- DAY
LONG SHOT
It is a massive brick and sandstone building, set in
beautiful gardens which slope down towards Puget Sound.
CLOSER SHOT - THE ENTRANCE
A taxi drives up, Larry Mitchell and Betty get out, PORTER
comes forward, takes their luggage etc. Larry pays taxi
and they start in through entrance.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - LOBBY - THE DESK -- DAY
Larry and Betty come up to it, BELLHOP carrying luggage.
HOTEL CLERK
Good afternoon, Mr. Mitchell.
Have a mice trip? Glad to see you
back.
MITCHELL
Fine, thanks. This is Miss Betty
Mayfield. You have a reservation
for her.
CLERK
Miss Mayfield. Yes, indeed. A
balcony room on the top floor,
Magnificent view. Nothing above it
but the penthouse.
He pushes registration pad towards Betty, and she signs.
Mitchell turns, looks out across lobby. A malicious smile
move his lips.
MITCHELL'S POV
One side of the lobby is a glassed-in-terrace. It is tea
time and a couple of large tea wagons are being pushed
around among the guests by FOOTMEN in uniform. With each
tea wagon are two neat MAIDS, who set out cups, pass
sandwiches, cakes, etc., While the FOOTMAN pours the tea.
CLOSER SHOT
A tea wagon beside a table at which sit MR. CLARENDON and
MARGO WEST. Mr. Clarendon is elegant, white-haired,
aristocratic-looking, a cane and spats type. Margo is
handsome, thirty-ish, almost overpoweringly well-dressed.
Obviously money, obviously been around. Margo is studying
her face in a pocket mirror. Tea wagon and maids move away.
MARGO
I'm getting positively haggard.
In a couple of years people will
be describing me as well preserved.
CLARENDON
(looking off)
I see out friend Larry Mitchell is
with us again.
Margo's hand stops in mid-air, holding mirror. She looks
up slowly.
MARGO
I couldn't care less.
Just the same, she sees in which direction. Clarendon is
looking and starts to turn.
CLARENDON
And with a very beautiful girl, if
my eyes don't deceive me at this
distance.
Margo reacts and swings around, CAMERA PANNING.
Larry and Betty have turned away from the desk and are
going towards elevators, BELLHOP behind them. Larry is
bending towards Betty intimately. Margo turns back to
Clarendon. Her face is frozen with a controlled emotion.
MARGO
I don't think I want any tea.
She picks up her bag and stands up. Goes out of shot.
Clarendon looks after her with a malicious smile.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - MARGO'S SUITE - LIVING ROOM -- DAY
Its is very spacious, obviously expensive. It is empty at
the moment. Margo unlocks door from outside, comes in,
shuts and cocks door, walks swiftly into room, throws her
bag viciously on the desk, yanks her hat off, throws it on
chair. She goes over to the balcony window, takes cigarette
out of box on the desk, her hand shakes as she lights it
with lighter. She puffs at it furiously, looking out of
window. After a moment, she snubs out in an ashtray, moves
across to telephone, picks it up.
MARGO
(into phone)
Mr. Larry Mitchell, please
(a beat, she changes
her mind)
No, never mind.
She puts telephone back in cradle and goes back to cigarette
box, lights another cigarette in the same nervous, jerky
manner, and puffs again. There is a KNOCK ON THE DOOR. She
spins around, walks quickly to door, throws it open.
Mitchell comes in. She says nothing as he moves in past
her. She shuts the door.
MITCHELL
I'm afraid you're not very glad to
see me, Margo.
MARGO
(between her teeth)
With your charm? How could I help
it? Have a nice trip?
MITCHELL
So-so.
MARGO
Who's the girl?
MITCHELL
Her name's Mayfield. Betty Mayfield.
MARGO
Nice.
MITCHELL
She's just a girl I met on the
train. You don't mind do you?
MARGO
(tartly)
Why should I mind?
MITCHELL
You shouldn't. You washed me up
very thoroughly.
MARGO
As thoroughly as I could. It wasn't
easy. But you are helping me.
MITCHELL
(staring at her)
Margo, darling. You washed me up.
Remember? We're just friends. You
wanted it that way.
MARGO
(ignoring this)
She's very beautiful. She's much
younger than I am. And she's rich,
I hope.
MITCHELL
Rich? I haven't the faintest idea.
Why?
MARGO
You ought to know why.
MITCHELL
I don't. My hunch is she's just
torn up an unhappy marriage. I was
able to do her a small favor.
MARGO
Splendid. Now she can return the
compliment.
She crosses the desk, gets bag, gets keys out, unlocks the
desk drawer and jerks it open, takes something out and
turns, holding it in her hand. Two checks.
MARGO
She can give you enough money to
cover these... and the other bad
checks you've given me.
Mitchell comes up to her slowly, looks down at the checks.
MITCHELL
I hoped to get enough to cover
them before they cleared. I wasn't
lucky.
MARGO
You know what would happen to you
if I turned these over to the
police?
MITCHELL
(quietly)
I have a rough idea.
MARGO
You'd go to jail. For a long term.
MITCHELL
Correct. I couldn't even afford to
pay a lawyer to defend me.
A beat. They stare at each other.
MITCHELL
What'll we do about it, Margo?
MARGO
She is much younger than I am.
That's something I'm going to have
to get used to. Isn't it, Larry?
They'll all be much younger than I
am. Here.
(she holds out the
checks)
Tear them up.
He takes them, puts them in his pocket and stands there
looking at her. A sob catches in her throat.
MARGO
I guess I'm still in love with
you, Larry. What an idiot!
He reaches to take her in his arms. First she pushes him
off, then yields. He pulls her close and kisses her. Then,
as they come out of the kiss,
MITCHELL
I've always been a heel. I guess I
always will be.
MARGO
You don't have to make a pose of
it.
MITCHELL
It's the only pose I have left.
I'm sunk. Broke. I don't even have
my hotel bill.
MARGO
(a little sharply)
I seem to recognize this routine.
First the kiss then the touch.
(she makes a hopeless
gesture.)
Oh, what's the use. You're you.
She turns and moves towards the desk.
MARGO
I only have a couple of hundred.
She picks her bag up, holds it out. He comes up beside
her.
MARGO
I seem to remember that you like
to help yourself.
MITCHELL
(taking the bag)
That's not very kind.
MARGO
Kind or not kind. What's the
difference? It always ends up the
same way.
He gives her a twisted smile, opens the bag, rummages
through it, opens the zipper pocket inside and comes out
with some currency and looks over, puts it in his pocket.
Puts the bag down on the desk, glances into the open drawer.
His look becomes fixed.
MITCHELL'S POV (what he sees), SHOOTING DOWN INTO THE
DRAWER, is a small, pearl-handled automatic, lying in the
corner. Mitchell's hand goes down into it, takes the gun.
TWO-SHOT of Margo and Mitchell as his hand comes up with
the gun.
MITCHELL
(almost amused)
What's this?
MARGO
What does it look like?
MITCHELL
How long have you had it?
MARGO
Years, why?
MITCHELL
It's against the law to cross the
border with a gun. The Canadian
police might like to know about
this.
MARGO
(very quietly)
You already have the checks,
darling.
MITCHELL
I didn't mean it that way
(he puts the gun
back in the drawer,
pushes the drawer
shut.)
I'm sorry.
MARGO
Oh, forget it. Clark Brandon's
throwing a party up in his penthouse
this evening. Take me?
MITCHELL
Of course.
MARGO
How about your new friend?
MITCHELL
(with a laugh)
I told you she's just..
MARGO
(cutting in sharply)
A girl you meet on the train.
Excuse my bringing it up again.
(she glances at her
wrist watch)
Be back in an hour. Right?
MITCHELL
Right.
MARGO
In an hour, Larry.
Mitchell stares at her levelly for a moment, then goes
without a word.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - CORRIDOR OUTSIDE MARGO'S ROOM -- DAY
Mitchell has just closed the door, stands with his hand on
the knob, a smile playing across his features. He starts
to whistle as he walks down the corridor. He takes a little
dance step perhaps, this is to indicate that his whole
attitude with Margo is just part of an act. He stops beside
the big sand jar, lights a cigarette, drops the match in
the jar, takes out the money from Margo's bag, flips it
with a smile on his face, puts it back in his pocket, takes
out the two checks Margo gave him, tears off the signatures,
places checks in his pocket, tears the signature fragments
into small pieces, drops them into the jar, goes on
whistling.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - DESK AND ELEVATOR BANK -- DAY
A couple of GUESTS at the desk. A CLERK is handing out
mail. CAMPBELL, the manager, is standing to one side. The
elevator comes down. Mitchell comes out, crosses to the
desk and addresses Campbell.
MITCHELL
Good afternoon, Mr. Campbell.
CAMPBELL
(coldly)
Mr. Mitchell.
MITCHELL
(airily)
A little something on account
perhaps?
CAMPBELL
Rather more than a little something,
Mr. Mitchell.
MITCHELL
I'm afraid this is all for the
moment.
Campbell picks up the money, counts it, puts it down.
CAMPBELL
I think we'd better discuss this
in my office, Mr. Mitchell.
MITCHELL
Nothing to discuss. Tomorrow the
sun will shine even brighter. Be
grateful for small mercies.
Campbell shrugs, reaches for the money.
MITCHELL
Oh, I forgot. I have a dinner
engagement. Excuse me.
He removes a couple of bills from the money.
MITCHELL
Thank you, Mr. Campbell.
He puts money in his pocket, turns away. Campbell looks
after him with cold anger. Mitchell dodges back into
elevator just as it is about to start up.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S ROOM -- DAY
Hat and suitcase in sight. Light is on in the closet. Betty
is inside closet, hanging up clothes. As she comes out,
switching off light, DOOR BUZZER SOUNDS. She opens door,
Mitchell breezes on past her. She registers annoyance,
then closes door. Mitchell crosses to the open French door
of the balcony.
MITCHELL
Nice room. Balcony and everything.
Lovely view too.
BETTY
(coolly)
Very nice Mitchell turns.
MITCHELL
No thanks?
BETTY
(same voice)
Thank you.
MITCHELL
(frowning)
Suppose I hadn't known that
immigration inspector? Hadn't put
in a good word for you?
BETTY
I'm supposing.
MITCHELL
I think you're a nice girl. I like
you. But I can read signs if the
print is large enough. It was your
manner more than the wedding ring
that bothered the inspector. A
sort of tenseness, as if you were
afraid of something.
Betty just goes on looking at him.
MITCHELL
I have a darned good idea you're
name isn't Betty Mayfield at all.
BETTY
Yes?
MITCHELL
How about taking to Uncle Larry
into the old firm? He's a useful
guy to have on your side.
BETTY
(no answer)
MITCHELL
(slight change of
pace)
Don't get me wrong, Betty. I'm not
suggesting you murdered anybody,
you know.
Betty reacts. He sees the reaction. His smile broadens.
Then very casually,
MITCHELL
Dine and dance tonight? I've got
fifty bucks to throw away.
BETTY
Not tonight.
MITCHELL
What's the matter?
BETTY
I'm not in the mood for dining and
dancing.
MITCHELL
We have some nice places around
Vancouver.
BETTY
I'm sure you have.
MITCHELL
(puzzled a little)
Well, how about a breeze up to the
penthouse about six o'clock? A
friend of mine is throwing a
cocktail party up there.
BETTY
I haven't been invited.
MITCHELL
Nobody gets invited to Clark
Brandon's parties. They just go.
BETTY
Perhaps I'd better get you
straightened out, Mr. Mitchell.
You've been rather nice to me, in
a couple of ways. And I'm grateful.
But I don't think this entitles
you to put me on a leash.
MITCHELL
Nobody I'd rather have on a leash.
Betty crosses to the door and opens it.
BETTY
I'm awfully sorry, but I'd like to
take a bath and get freshened up.
Mitchell hesitates, then comes across slowly to the door.
MITCHELL
The brush-off, huh?
BETTY
I'm trying very hard to be polite
about it.
Mitchell grins, then suddenly reaches for her and kisses
her. She doesn't struggle, is quite impassive. After a
moment he let's go, steps back.
MITCHELL
Don't I even get my face slapped?
BETTY
(indicating the
open door)
Would you mind?
MITCHELL
(a little puzzled,
confused by her
attitude)
Okay. You win.
HE STARTS OUT, TURNS TO SAY,
MITCHELL
If you change your mind about the
cocktail party, or anything else,
give me a buzz.
BETTY
If I change my mind.
He goes. He closes the door. CAMERA MOVES IN ON HER FACE.
She wipes off her lips with her handkerchief, almost in an
absentminded way. The kiss didn't mean anything to her,
one way or another. There is great loneliness in her eyes.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - LOBBY -- NIGHT
WIDE SHOT
Showing a lot of activity, etc.
The time is 6:00 P.M. Approximately, but this is June in
Canada and broad daylight, and will be for several hours
yet.
In the background Betty comes in through glass doors from
the garden terrace, walks slowly across the lobby. People
are looking at her with interest, specially the men. As
she reaches the elevator bank, she glances off to one side,
past the desk. Her look becomes fixed.
CAMERA PANS AROUND TO SHOW A NEON SIGN "TAVERN" this side
of an archway and people going in.
She turns away from elevator, starts in that direction,
passes on beneath sign.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - TAVERN -- NIGHT
As Betty come in, stands looking around. It is lighted
somewhat dimly. There are a number of small tables,. There
is a bar but it is only for the use of the waiters. Betty
looks around for a vacant table, then starts moving along
looking for one. None empty, but at one sits a MAN alone.
He is about 35, clean fine drawn type, with a saturnine
expression. He glances up. Betty meets his eyes, starts to
turn away. Man indicates the chair opposite him. His manner
of doing this is so completely indifferent to her as a
person, that she hesitates.
BRANDON
(standing up)
You can have the table yourself,
if you'd rather. I'm only killing
time.
BETTY
No, please.
BRANDON
Sit down then. We often have a
double up here.
BETTY
I see.
She pulls the chair back, sits down. Brandon sits down. He
lights a cigarette, doesn't offer her one. She is watching
him, a little puzzled, probably has had very few experiences
of men not trying to pick her up in such circumstances.
Betty looks around at the scurrying WAITERS who pay no
attention to her yet.
BRANDON
(calling out sharply)
Oh waiter.
WAITER turns, sees him, immediately comes to stand at his
side.
WAITER
Yes sir.
Brandon, without speaking, indicates Betty. Waiter turns
to her.
WAITER
Yes, Miss.
BETTY
I'd like a dry Martini. Very dry,
please.
WAITER
Sorry, Miss. Beer and ale only.
Canadian law.
BETTY
(surprised)
Beer?
(she shrugs)
Well, all right.
WAITER
Beer or ale, Miss?
BETTY
Ale. I don't mind.
WAITER
Right, Miss.
He turns away. Brandon is smiling at her faintly, She meets
his eyes, smiles back.
BETTY
(to Brandon)
Your liquor laws..
BRANDON
(cutting in)
Disgusting, aren't they? If you
really want a Martini, I know where
you can get one.
Betty looks inquiringly at him and doesn't speak.
BRANDON
A fellow named Brandon has a
penthouse here. He's holding open
house. I was up there. Too noisy.
Bored.
BETTY
I see.
BRANDON
(indifferently)
It might be worth a Martini to
you.
BETTY
I don't need it that badly. I don't
enjoy crashing other people's
parties.
BRANDON
It's open-house. No crashing
involved. Anybody in the hotel's
welcome.
BETTY
What did you say his name was?
BRANDON
Brandon. Clark Brandon. Fellow
about my age. Lot of money... that
he didn't make. Former American.
Now naturalized in Canada. Social
standing indeterminate. Manners
not quite perfect. Scotch superb.
BETTY
You don't sound as if you liked
him very much.
BRANDON
(quietly)
No.. not very well. And I like his
friends even less. But..
(he waves his hand
indifferently)
If you really want a good dry
Martini..
BETTY
As I said before...
BRANDON
Sure. But I'd hate like the Dickens
to be held to everything I've said
before, wouldn't you?
Betty suddenly laughs. The waiter brings the glass and the
bottle of bass ale, sets them down in front of her. Brandon
makes a motion and the waiter goes away without collecting.
BETTY
You're not paying for this. It's
quite enough that you let me sit
at your table.
BRANDON
I never pay for anything. They
just keep me here to amuse the
guests.
BETTY
And do you amuse the guests?
BRANDON
No.
(indicating her
bottle of ale)
Are you really going to drink that
stuff?
BETTY
You're drinking it.
BRANDON
(indicating his
almost untouched
glass)
I can be talked out of it. As a
matter of fact, I'd like a dry
Martini myself.
BETTY
Would it make you anymore amusing?
BRANDON
Whatever you say.
BETTY
I didn't say anything.
BRANDON
(standing up and
putting money on
the table)
I don't know you and you don't
know me. I made a reasonably polite
suggestion. But I'm sure you'd
rather be alone.
BETTY
I hate to be alone. But I've heard
all the approaches there are...
even yours.
Brandon turns back, stares down at her coldly.
BRANDON
Neatly said...but to the wrong
man. The trouble with pretty girls
is that they can't imagine anyone
thinking of anything else but the
fact they are pretty girls. I get
tired of it.
BETTY
(directly)
Do you think I don't?
BRANDON
(interested)
Thanks for the fresh air. That
felt good.
BETTY
(standing up and
taking her bag)
You're sure Mr. Brandon won't mind?
BRANDON
He doesn't even know half the people
who come up to drink his liquor.
DISSOLVE TO:
EXT. ROYAL HOTEL - LOBBY/PENTHOUSE -- NIGHT
An elevator comes up. Brandon and Betty come out. There is
a sound of revelry behind the penthouse door, opposite the
elevators. They cross. Brandon opens the door casually,
without bothering to ring, users Betty in.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE- LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
A big room, with French doors opening on a large terrace.
A few couples are dancing outside on the terrace and a few
more inside the room. There is a portable bar at one side
of the room and two WAITERS behind it. The dance music is
coming from a large Radio-Phonograph. Brandon and Betty
come in. Brandon shuts the door. There are eighteen or
twenty people around, with the usual alcoholic glitter in
their eyes and the usual strident voices and exaggerated
laughter.
CAMERA PANS BRANDON AND BETTY OVER TOWARDS THE BAR,
DISCOVERING Mitchell leaning against it, staring morosely
into a drink. He drains the last of it.
MITCHELL
(to bartender in a
thick voice)
Another.
BARTENDER takes a glass. Brandon and Betty come up to the
bar. Mitchell does not at first look up.
BRANDON
(to bartender)
This lady would like a dry Martini.
So would I.
BARTENDER
Very good, sir.
He turns away. Mitchell looks up, sees Betty, reacts.
MITCHELL
Well well. Baby wouldn't come with
me. Where did you pick her up?
Brandon glances from Betty to Mitchell puzzled, shrugs.
BRANDON
Hello, Mitchell. Having fun?
MITCHELL
The liquors lovely. The rest of
the party you can have.
He moves towards Betty, puts an arm around her. Betty rises
tries to pull away.
MITCHELL
What's the matter, baby. Don't you
like me anymore?
BRANDON
(to Mitchell)
Lay off, can't you?
MITCHELL
Lay off what? This is my new girl
friend. Met her on the train.
She's very fond of me. Love at
first sight. Wasn't it, baby?
Brandon reacts. There is a certain contempt in his look at
Betty now. Bartender serves drinks impassively. Mitchell
grabs his, gulps half of it down. Betty quietly releases
herself and moves away from him.
BRANDON
And I'd begun to think this was my
lucky day.
A liveried HOTEL SERVANT COMES INTO SHOT.
SERVANT
(to Brandon)
You're wanted on the telephone,
Mr. Brandon. Mrs. West.
As the Servant says "Brandon", Betty reacts.
BRANDON
(to servant)
Thanks.
(to Betty with brutal
sarcasm)
If you are a friend of Larry
Mitchell's I'm sure I leave you in
good hands.
He goes out of SHOT.
She looks after him unhappily.
CAMERA PANS BRANDON across his living room to an inner
door. He starts through.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - BEDROOM -- NIGHT
Telephone on table, receiver down as Brandon enters, close
door against the noise.
BRANDON
(into phone)
Hello Margo. Aren't you coming up?
(a beat)
Mitchell? Oh yes, he's here.
(he smiles a little
grimly)
He came up alone, but it seems he
has a new girl friend with him
now.
(a beat)
Don't be theatrical, Margo. What
do you care about Mitchell? Come
on up and have a drink.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - MARGO'S LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
Margo on the phone.
MARGO
(in a flat voice)
I haven't any intensions of being
theatrical. Of course I'll come
up. Goodbye.
She hangs up, stand for a moment, staring at nothing, then
she turns, picks her wrap out of the chair, puts it on,
crosses to the desk for her handbag. She opens the bag,
pauses, then in SLOW MOTION, pulls open the drawer of the
desk.
CAMERA IN CLOSE, studies her face as she looks down into
the drawer of the desk, which we do not see. But we already
know there is a gun there. Her body is quite motionless,
her expression frozen. When she moves we do not see whether
she takes the gun out of the drawer or not. We HEAR the
SNAP of her bag shutting. The she turns away, starts across
the room to leave.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - ELEVATOR IN MOTION UP -- NIGHT
A quiet, gentlemanly-looking MAN is leaning against the
back wall of the elevator, wearing a trench coat and a
soft hat. He is a homicide dick named KILLAINE, but you'd
never think that to look at him. Elevator stops, doors
open, and Margo enters.
ELEVATOR BOY
(very polite)
Did you have a nice day, Mrs.
West?
MARGO
I had a rotten day, if its any of
your business.
ELEVATOR BOY
I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. West.
MARGO
Don't let it break you up.
ELEVATOR BOY
Oh, I wouldn't do that, Mrs. West.
The man chuckles, Margo looks around at him.
MARGO
What's so funny?
Killaine wipes the smile off his face.
KILLAINE
(imitating boy)
I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. West.
As she stares at him, he takes his monocle out of his
pocket, polishes it, sticks it in his eye.
MARGO
Oh, the Coldstream Guards.
(a beat)
Don't you take your hat off in
elevators?
KILLAINE
(pleasantly)
I never wear a hat.
(his face changes
to consternation)
Oh, so I am. I forgot.
(he takes his hat
off)
I guess I'm terribly sorry again,
Mrs. West.
Elevator stops.
ELEVATOR BOY
Penthouse floor, please.
Margo sweeps out, Killaine follows her.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE FLOOR - LOBBY -- NIGHT
As they cross to the Penthouse door.
KILLAINE
May I?
He pushes the button.
MARGO
May you what?
KILLAINE
Oh nothing.
MARGO
Are you always this witty?
Killaine laughs as the door opens. Brandon stands in it.
BRANDON
Hi Margo. Hello Killaine. You two
come together?
MARGO
In the same elevator. It is a public
conveyance.
CAMERA TAKES THEM INTO THE ROOM the door starts to close.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
Brandon, Killaine and Margo standing by the door.
BRANDON
Let me introduce you. Mr. Killaine,
Mrs. West.
MARGO
(not looking at
Killaine)
Fascinated.
Her eyes roam the room. She picks out Mitchell. Her
expression freezes.
MARGO'S POV
WHAT SHE SEES -- Betty is sitting in her chair in a corner
and Mitchell is standing over her, his hand on the back of
the chair. Her expression is wooden. His is a mixture of
insolence and pleading.
CAMERA RETURNS TO MARGO, BRANDON AND KILLAINE as they cross
to the bar.
At the same time Mitchell leaves Betty, also crosses to
the bar, reaches it about the same time as Margo. Margo
gives Mitchell a long, cool, empty stare. Mitchell smiles
a little sheepishly, embarrassed even in his drunkenness.
At the same time Mitchell leaves Betty, also crosses to
the bar, reaches it about the same time as Margo. Margo
gives Mitchell a long, cool, empty stare. Mitchell smiles
a little sheepishly, embarrassed even in his drunkenness.
BRANDON
What'll you have, Margo?
MARGO
(without looking at
him)
Martini.
BRANDON
(to Killaine)
You, Killaine?
KILLAINE
Scotch and plain water, I think.
MARGO
(not looking at him)
Warm water, no doubt.
BRANDON
What?
KILLAINE
A private joke.
He gets the monocle out and sticks it in his eye again.
KILLAINE
It goes with this... cold houses
and warm drinks...the effete
Englishman.
BRANDON
You're not English.
Bartender serves drinks. Margo puts her bag down on the
bar. It makes a heavy CLUNKING SOUND. KILLAINE'S eyes go
to it, without too much expression. Mitchell reacts more.
To him the clunking sound has a meaning. He starts to reach
for the bag. Margo pointedly moves it away from him.
MITCHELL
(to Margo thickly)
I'm sorry. I forgot about calling
for you.
MARGO
It's quite unimportant, Mr.
Mitchell. After all, you got what
you wanted.
MITCHELL
Be nasty.
MARGO
I have no intension of being nasty,
Mr. Mitchell.
MITCHELL
In that case, there's someone here
I'd like to introduce to you. Over
there.
Margo looks towards Betty. She reacts.
MARGO
(almost to herself)
She is beautiful. And young.
(she turns back to
Mitchell)
No thank you.
MITCHELL
(aggressively)
I say YES!
Margo quietly turning her back on him and reaching for her
glass.
MARGO
You're not the type to be masterful,
darling. It takes character.
Mitchell reaches for her shoulder and spins her around,
causing her to slop some of her drink out on the bar.
MARGO
(with sudden deadly
sweetness)
Of course, darling. Anything you
say.
She goes off with Mitchell. Killaine looks after then
puzzled. Brandon is indifferent.
KILLAINE
That's what I like about cocktail
parties. Everyone is so perfectly
natural.
BRANDON
How's life treating you?
KILLAINE
The usual grind.
BRANDON
Round of golf Saturday?
KILLAINE
If I can get off.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
CORNER OF THE ROOM
Betty is sitting alone as Margo and Mitchell COME INTO
SHOT.
MITCHELL
Betty, this is Margo West. She
wants to meet you. Miss Mayfield.
BETTY
How do you do?
MARGO
(staring at her)
You're very attractive, my dear.
And you look very unsophisticated.
MITCHELL
Unsophisticated?
(he laughs nastily)
If I knew about this babe...
Betty stands up quickly.
BETTY
I think I'd like to dance.
MITCHELL
Why certainly, baby.
He puts his arm around Betty and dances off with her,
leaving Margo standing.
CAMERA FOLLOWS THEM as they dance.
They pass Mr. Clarendon, who is sitting as usual with his
sliver-haired cane between his legs, paying no particular
attention to anything.
BETTY
(to Mitchell as
they dance)
Please be a little more careful
how you talk, Mr. Mitchell.
MITCHELL
How careful should I be?
BETTY
I don't like being referred to as
babe, or addressed as baby. I don't
like your possessive attitude, nor
your hints of secret knowledge. In
fact, to be very frank, Mr.
Mitchell, I don't think I like
you.
MITCHELL
Maybe you're going to have to like
me.
He disengages her left hand enough to hold it up and look
at it.
MITCHELL
You've shed the ring, haven't you?
Took my advice. That's the girl.
Keep right on taking my advice and
we'll get somewhere.
Betty jerks away from him and stops.
BETTY
I think you're drunk.
MITCHELL
Just drunk enough.
He puts his arm around her, pulls her close to him, and
tilts her head back. She struggles against him, silently.
He pushes her head back father and kisses her solidly on
the mouth. She finally breaks away from him with flashing
eyes.
MITCHELL
What's the matter, baby? Don't you
like being kissed?
BETTY
(with cold fury)
Next time you try that, Mr.
Mitchell...
(a beat, she takes
a deep breath,
then very pointedly)
..don't. I'm warning you.
BRANDON AND MARGO COME INTO SHOT FROM DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS
BRANDON
Do me a favor, Mitchell. Find
yourself a nice secluded park bench.
MITCHELL
(airily)
Did I do something wrong?
BRANDON
I wouldn't know. Just do it
somewhere else. There is such a
thing as good manners.
MITCHELL
How would you know, Brandon?
BRANDON
(harshly)
Want to walk out... or get thrown
out?
MITCHELL
You don't throw guests out, Brandon.
BRANDON
Don't bet on it. I'm eccentric.
The two men glare at each other. Mitchell finally shrugs
then goes towards the door.
MARGO
(to Brandon, quietly)
It takes two to clinch. Clark.
Nice to have seen you.
She starts towards the door. Brandon hurries quickly to
open it for her. She goes without looking at him, her mouth
tight. He shuts the door, looks back towards Betty, who
has remained standing perfectly still. She takes a
handkerchief out of her bag and scrubs her mouth off as
Brandon comes back to her. Clarendon stands up slowly.
BRANDON
(to Betty, offhand)
Dance?
BETTY
No thank you.
CLARENDON
(to Brandon)
Where I come from, Mr. Brandon,
the host tries to protect his guests
from insult.
BRANDON
I stopped him.
CLARENDON
And if he fails, he at least has
the good manners to apologize.
BRANDON
I don't exactly regard Larry
Mitchell's pick-ups...
Clarendon turns back on him. Then--
CLARENDON
(to Betty, with
courtly gesture)
We haven't been introduced. But if
you'll overlook that, I'm sure
that between us we can contrive a
graceful exit.
BETTY
(smiling at him
warmly)
Thank you very much.
They go towards the door side by side.
Brandon turns and CAMERA PANS HIM BACK TO BAR where Killaine
has remained motionless, his drink untasted.
BRANDON
Would it have helped if I'd knocked
him down?
KILLAINE
Hardly. Who's the girl?
BRANDON
Somebody Mitchell picked up on the
train. I don't even know her name.
KILLAINE
She doesn't look like a girl who
would let herself be picked up on
a train.
BRANDON
That's what I thought, at first.
(a beat)
Maybe somebody else ought to have
thrown this party.
(a beat)
With my liquor of course.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT
CLOSE SHOT
Face of traveling clock on a night table. Room is dark,
lit only by moonlight. Hands of the clock stand almost
11:15. Ticking is HEARD faintly. A little smoke drifts
across the face of the clock.
CAMERA PANS BACK ALONG THE SMOKE to Betty lying in bed,
her eyes wide open. Somewhere outside a CHURCH CLOCK CHIMES
the quarter hour. The last strokes of the clock are drowned
out by a sudden peal of THUNDER. Betty jerks upright in
bed. The thunder frightens her. There is another LOUDER
peal, this time preceded by a FLASH of LIGHTENING which
LIGHTS UP HER FACE. She shuts her eyes against it. The
THUNDERSTORM grows suddenly HEAVY. Repeated FLASHES of
LIGHTENING across her FACE and peals of THUNDER.
CAMERA MOVES IN ON HER EYES which are frozen.
FLASHBACK:
INT. COUNTY COURTHOUSE - GREENWATER NORTH CAROLINA --
NIGHT
CAMERA PULLS BACK VERY SLOWLY
And everything has changed except Betty's expression. The
FLASHES go on, but they are now seen to be FLASHBULBS of
NEWSPAPER CAMERAMEN. Betty is dressed very soberly and is
standing just inside the door of a courtroom with a jail
matron beside her.
The CAMERA KEEPS PULLING BACK AWAY FROM BETTY, and the
entire courtroom is seen.
It is late at night in the county courthouse GREENWATER,
NORTH CAROLINA. There is an excited buzzing of conversation.
A BAILIFF is RAPPING for order.
The JURY is sitting, grim faced and silent, in the box.
The Judge is not on the bench yet.
Betty is led along the side corridor then through the bar
where DEFENSE ATTORNEY, a haggard, dark-haired young man,
stands waiting for her.
(NOTE: All Southern accents except Betty's in this scene)
BAILIFF
(shouting)
Everybody stand up! His Honor,
Judge Hopkinson! Court now in
session!
Everybody stands up. Betty and the jail matron and the
young attorney face towards the bench.
CAMERA SHOWS THE PROSECUTING ATTORNEY, also standing up at
his table.
CAMERA PANS OVER TO THE DOOR OF THE JUDGES CHAMBERS. He
walks slowly to the bench, stands for a moment behind it,
looking out over the courtroom, then sits down. He is a
distinguished courtly Southerner of the best type, an old
man but very erect. When he sits, all the spectators and
lawyers sit down.
The double doors at the back are closed and a BAILIFF stands
with his back to them. Suddenly, one of the doors is pushed
open, almost knocking the Bailiff out of the way.
He turns angrily as HENRY KINSOLVING enters. The Bailiff
seeing who it is, stands aside. Henry Kinsolving is an
arrogant, bitter man about 60 years old, with the stamp of
power and authority. He marches down the center aisle of
the court through the bar, and sits at the table near the
PROSECUTOR. The Judge stares down at him coldly.
JUDGE
Mr. Bailiff, please make room for
Mr. Henry Kinsolving, outside the
bar of the court.
Henry Kinsolving springs to his feet and glares at the
Judge. Then he turns and goes through the gate of the bar
and sits down outside in a chair the Bailiff places for
him solicitously. There is a general shuffling of feet and
noise which subsides slowly.
JUDGE
(slowly and
impressively)
Before the Jury renders its verdict,
the Court wishes to warn those
present that there is to be no
demonstrations of any kind. No
person is to leave the courtroom
until the Court rises.
(he glances towards
press table)
I repeat... no one is to leave the
courtroom.
There is a silence, then the Judge turns towards the Clerk.
JUDGE
You may proceed, Mr. Clerk.
CLERK
(he stands and looks
at Elizabeth)
The Defendant will rise and face
the Jury.
ELIZABETH stands up slowly and turns towards the Jury, who
do not look at her. They stare somewhere over her head.
The Clerk turns back to the Jury.
CLERK
Gentlemen of the Jury, have you
reached a verdict?
FOREMAN
(standing)
We have.
CLERK
And what is your verdict?
FOREMAN
We the Jury, find the Defendant,
Elizabeth Kinsolving, guilty of
murder in the first degree.
There is a surge of noise in the well of the court. The
Judge raps sharply with his gavel. A couple of PRESSMEN
start to get up, then look back and see that the doors are
guarded and sit down again. The Prosecutor looks grimly
satisfied; he glances at the DEFENDING COUNCIL with a half
smile. Defense Counsel, whose name is LEAMINGTON, is shocked
and pale. Elizabeth shows no reaction at all. Henry
Kinsolving draws his mouth a little tighter, and there is
a gleam in his eye. The Spectators look, for the most part,
very satisfied. Leamington comes to his feet.
LEAMINGTON
(in a strangled
voice)
Motion to pool the Jury, if it
please the Court.
JUDGE
So ordered.
The Clerk now proceeds to poll the Jury, saying "Juror No.
1 what is your verdict?" And the Juror answering "Guilty
of murder in the first degree." "Juror No. 2, what is your
verdict?" Etc. This is covered by a series of CLOSE UPS
all answer clearly until the Clerk comes to Juror No. 7,
who mumbles in a low voice.
CLERK
(to Juror No. 7)
Speak a little louder please.
Juror No. 7 is staring hard at Elizabeth. His face is
twisted with emotion. He is the only Juror who has looked
at her. He swallows, doesn't answer, then his eyes go to
Henry Kinsolving. Henry Kinsolving glares at Juror No. 7.
Juror No. 7 wilts.
JUROR NO. 7
(thickly and
hesitatingly)
Guilty of murder in the first
degree.
The Clerk completes the polling of the Jury, then turns to
the Judge. The Judge nods and Clerk sits down. The courtroom
starts to get noisy again, and the Judge uses his gavel.
BAILIFF
Order in the Court!
JUDGE
The Court now has a statement to
make.
He glances towards Elizabeth, who is still standing rigidly.
JUDGE
(gently)
Please sit down, Mrs. Kinsolving.
Elizabeth sits, and clasps her hands in front of her.
JUDGE
This court, like most courts, has
occasionally been guilty of judicial
error. Prior to the commencement
of this trail, Mr. Leamington, as
attorney for the Defendant, made a
motion for a change of venue on
the ground that a fair trial could
not be had by this Defendant in
this jurisdiction. Most of you
know why this motion was made.
The Defendant was alleged to have
been tried and convicted in the
columns of the daily newspaper
owned by her father-in-law, Mr.
Henry Kinsolving, and as a result
public opinion was said to have
been prejudiced to the extent that
it was doubtful twelve Jurors could
be found with open minds. This
Court regretfully denied the motion.
It did not believe that a Jury
with open minds could not be found.
The members of this Jury declared
on oath that their minds were open.
The Court had no reason at that
time to disbelieve them.
The Judge looks at the Jury sternly, and they react in
various ways. The Judge's eyes go to Henry Kinsolving, who
stares back at him.
JUDGE
Elizabeth Kinsolving has been tried
and found guilty of murder of her
husband, Lee Kinsolving. Lee
Kinsolving was the only son of our
most prominent citizen. Mr.
Kinsolving controls, or is said to
control, our leading bank, many of
our business enterprises and our
only daily newspaper. He affords
employment to a large number of
our citizens. His influence on our
affairs is very great.
(dramatic pause)
Perhaps to great.
There is an upsurge of noise in the Court and the Bailiff
shots for order. Prosecutor jumps to his feet.
PROSECUTOR
Your Honor, I protest that
statement!
JUDGE
Sit down, Mr. Prosecutor. Your are
out of order.
Prosecutor swallows, looks back at Henry Kinsloving, shrugs
and sits down again. Leamington is leaning forward with a
gleam in his eye. Elizabeth is still deadpan.
JUDGE
We all new Lee Kinsolving well, We
watched him grow up. We observed
that he was proud and hot tempered,
and had a strain of arrogance, not
unlike others of his family.
He looks meaningfully at Henry Kinsolving.
JUDGE
From this town Lee Kinsolving went
to fight for his country. And to
this town, before he went overseas,
he brought the wife he had married
up North. To us he returned a war
hero badly wounded, condemned for
the rest of his life to wear a
heavy brace around his neck.
Competent medical testimony has
shown that without that brace a
very slight movement might have
been enough to snap his spinal
cord. This injury humiliated and
embittered Lee Kinsolving, made
him morose and violent, and perhaps
caused him to drink to excess. The
Defendant has admitted that there
were bitter quarrels between herself
and her husband. Such a quarrel
took place on the night of his
death, Upon the manner of that
death this entire proceeding rests.
The Judge pauses and looks out over the courtroom, which
is very quiet now, He pours himself a glass of water and
takes a drink from it.
JUDGE
In my summing up to the Jury I
emphasized that the case for the
prosecution was, as so many murder
cases are, purely circumstantial.
It was alleged that while Lee
Kinsolving slept, perhaps in a
drunken stupor and perhaps not,
the Defendant removed the neck
brace from his neck and jerked his
head sufficiently to rupture the
spinal cord and cause death. It is
admitted that the Defendant was
found holding the neck brace in
her hand, and bending over her
husband's body, which was lying on
the bed. Not in the bed, mind you,
but sprawled across it. The
Defendant has testified that lee
Kinsolving himself removed the
neck brace to torment her, as it
were, with the great danger in
which this placed him. Then he
started to walk towards her, holding
the brace in his hands, and that
being unsteady on his feet, he
stumbled and fell backwards across
the bed. And this fall broke his
neck, although at the time she did
not know it. She has testified
that she picked the brace up from
the floor and was about to attempt
to replace it on his neck when her
father-in-law entered the room and
found her in that position.
(a beat)
By its verdict the Jury declared
that Elizabeth Kinsolving's account
of the death of her husband to be
impossible of belief.
The Judge sips a little more water, then continues.
JUDGE
In all murder trails, a motion by
the Defense for a directed verdict
of acquittal before the case goes
to the Jury is more or less
automatic. It is usually
perfunctory, and for that reason
immediately denied. The laws of
this state, and a few other
jurisdictions, confer upon a Court
a right to reserve its ruling upon
such a motion until after the Jury
has rendered its verdict. In this
proceeding, I, as presiding Judge,
availed myself of this power. I
most honestly hoped that the Jury
in this case might act as
impartially as it declared itself
to be.
The Prosecuting Attorney again jumps to his feet, then
changes his mind, sits down with a frustrated angry
movement. Kinsolving is leaning forward, glaring. The Jury
are now very uncomfortable. The is a BUZZ OF NOISE and the
Bailiff again shouts for order.
JUDGE
Let me remind you that a Jury is
the sole Judge of fact, and further
let me remind you that the Jury
must judge all the facts. It may
not select nor create nor change
facts. It may only interpret them.
It may not declare something
impossible which in fact is merely
extremely difficult to believe.
(a beat)
Impossible is a very big word.
(another beat.)
If we believe Elizabeth Kinsolving's
sworn testimony, we must also
believe that Lee Kinsolving
performed an act which was almost
certain to cause his death. It is
difficult... very difficult to
believe. But is it impossible? Are
we sure that he knew it would cause
his death? Or that in his then
state of mind, he even considered
the consequences at all? Many people
have attempted suicide as a result
of domestic quarrels. Not all have
succeeded, nor meant to succeed.
And surely not all those who did
succeed... fully intended to. Not
all knew what they were doing and
those who did know, there were
surely a few whose desire to hurt
others overcame their fear of
hurting themselves. We cannot
know what was in Lee Kinsolving's
Mind. Therefore, some element of
doubt must infallibly remain. It
was not necessary for this Jury to
declare its belief in the
Defendant's innocence, nor to
declare its that Lee Kinsolving by
accident or his own intent. It was
necessary for the Jury to admit to
themselves, as reasonable men, the
possibility.... however slight...
that Elizabeth Kinsolving's story
was true. This possibility the
Jury has refused to admit.
(dramatic pause)
It therefore becomes my duty to
declare that such a possibility
does in fact exist... and the Jury's
refusal to recognize it was a
failure to exercise it proper
function.
A rising, antagonistic sound begins to surge from the
spectators and Henry Kinsolving comes to his feet, slowly
and rigidly. The Judge ignore him and looks straight at
the foreman of the Jury, and speaks the rest of his speech
in a clear, ringing, dominating voice.
JUDGE
The Court therefore rules that the
motion of the Attorney for the
Defense for a directed verdict of
not guilty be now granted. The
verdict of guilty brought by this
Jury is herby set aside, and a
verdict of not guilty is to be
entered on the record.
(his voice bow rises
almost to a shout)
And the Defendant, Elizabeth
Kinsolving, is here with discharged
from custody of the Sheriff of
this county.
PANDEMONIUM and UPROAR in the Court. The Bailiff shouts
for order. The Judge stands slowly, looks a moment out
over the Court, then looks at Elizabeth, smiles at her
faintly, turns, and starts back towards his chambers.
CAMERA PANS over to Henry Kinsolving. He stands like a
statue, an icy rage, his face working, while behind him
the noise of the spectators goes on. Kinsolving turns his
head towards Elizabeth, then moves stiffly over to her.
CAMERA PANNING, he comes over to her. Leamington, the
Defense Attorney, and the matron are standing beside her.
KINSLOVING
(with restrained
fury)
For four years I endured your
presence in my house, although I
well knew you were no fit wife for
my son.. That he had married in
haste, and that he would repent it
bitterly if he survived the war. I
had no thought that he would die
under his own roof, nor that the
reward of my patience would be to
stand beside his grave. I have
done my best to avenge him. So far
I have failed. But I have not
finished. You are free to go where
you will, but there will be another
day of reckoning, somewhere,
sometime. And when that day comes,
I will be there. And that time you
will not escape.
Elizabeth's eyes widen with horror. In the background the
crowd is still roaring, like peals of thunder.
CAMERA MOVES IN CLOSE TO ELIZABETH'S EYES as at the
beginning of this flashback.
FLASH FORWARD:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT
CAMERA WITHDRAWS and find her sitting up in bed in the
ROYAL HOTEL. THUNDER is pealing outside, but now more
distantly. There is a sudden downpour of RAIN. Betty sweeps
the bedclothes aside. Reaches for a robe, and crosses to
close the French doors. Over her shoulder we see a portion
of the small balcony, a chaise, and as Betty starts to
close the door, she stops frozen. There is someone lying
on the chaise. She starts out into the rain.
EXT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S BALCONY -- NIGHT
As she comes out, approaches the chaise, leans down, the
rain beating on her. She shakes the shoulder of a man on
the chaise. He doesn't move. One of his hands drops limply
and swings a little. Horror shows in Betty's eyes. She
reaches out and touches the man's face and WE SEE for the
first time that this is Larry Mitchell, and we realize
that he is dead.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PORTER'S DESK/CORRIDOR/MAIN FLOOR --
NIGHT
The NIGHT PORTER is seated at his desk, reading a paper.
He is a middle-aged man in uniform and military bearing,
with a row or ribbons across his chest. Probably, in order
of seniority, a Military Medal, a Good Conduct Medal, the
Long Service Medal, and two or three campaign ribbons.
Betty, now fully dressed, COMES SLOWLY INTO THE SHOT and
stops by his desk. Porter lays down his paper and stands
up.
PORTER
Good evening, Miss.
BETTY
How soon can I get a plane to
Seattle?
PORTER
I'm afraid there's nothing more
tonight, Miss. Unless you charter
a plane.
BETTY
How long would that take?
PORTER
Well... they have to service the
plane... and get a pilot down to
the field, unless there's one
hanging around there still... and
then they have to get the
immigration officer...
BETTY
Immigration Officer?
PORTER
Crossing the border this time of
night they're a bit particular.
You'd have to prove your identity,
you know... unless you've got a
passport. They might even want to
know why you're in such a hurry.
(he grins)
Otherwise they might think...
He breaks off, staring at her.
BETTY
They might think I was running
away from something.
PORTER
Possibly, Miss.
He smiles.
BETTY
Thank you very much.
She turns and exits. CAMERA FOLLOWS HER ALONG. She turns
the corner by the elevator bank, starts into the elevator.
Brandon is standing there in a light overcoat, with his
hat in his hand. She get's in without noticing him.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - ELEVATOR IN MOTION UP -- NIGHT
BRANDON
Leaving us so soon, Miss Mayfield?
She realizes his presence.
BRANDON
I don't blame you.. For running
away.
Betty reacts sharply, controls herself, says nothing.
Elevator stops, doors open.
ELEVATOR BOY
Good night, Miss.
BETTY
Good night.
She starts out. Brandon after her.
ELEVATOR BOY
This isn't the penthouse floor,
Mr. Brandon.
Brandon keeps going.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - CORRIDOR OUTSIDE ELEVATOR -- NIGHT
Betty is walking quickly down the corridor towards her
room. Brandon is following her. She seems unaware of him.
BRANDON
(calling)
Miss Mayfield...
Betty stops turns, and he comes up to her.
BRANDON
I know it's a littler late for an
apology.
BETTY
(in a strained, un
natural voice)
Much too late.
BRANDON
Don't take it so big... it isn't a
tragedy.
Betty goes into a peal of hysterical laughter, Brandon
grabs hold of her arm and shakes it.
BRANDON
What's the matter with you?
Betty stops laughing just as suddenly as she began.
BETTY
You said it wasn't a tragedy.
BRANDON
What's funny about that? If you
pick up people like Larry Mitchell
other people are bound to get funny
ideas about you. The world is full
of Larry Mitchells.
BETTY
There's one less tonight.
Brandon reacts. Silently she holds out a key. He takes it.
It's a tabbed hotel room key.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S ROOM -- NIGHT
DOOR OPENS
Brandon comes in, stands aside as Betty comes in. He shuts
and locks the door. The room is lighted up. Brandon looks
around swiftly.
BETTY
Out on the balcony.
CAMERA PANS Brandon across the room to the balcony door,
he steps out.
EXT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S BALCONY -- NIGHT
Brandon enters. He goes quickly to chaise, stares down,
bends, appears to pick something up. What is it not seen.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S ROOM -- NIGHT
Betty is standing motionless in the middle of the floor.
BRANDON
Through the heart, apparently.
Very little blood. What's the story?
Betty looks him straight in the eye.
BETTY
There isn't one.. That anyone would
believe. I went for a walk after
dinner, down to the ocean...alone...
I came up and went to bed. I didn't
sleep very well. Then there was a
thunderstorm. And it began to rain.
I went across to close the French
door. That's the first time I saw
him out there.
BRANDON
He got in here how?
BETTY
Not with my consent, strange as it
seems. I don't know how he got in.
I don't know anything.
Brandon brings his hand up.
BRANDON
Ever see this before?
Betty looks down. In his hand is an automatic with a pearl
handle.
BETTY
No. And I've never fired a gun in
my life, Aren't you supposed not
to touch it?
BRANDON
Sure... but somebody always does..
He puts the gun down on the table carelessly, gets out a
cigarette case and offers her one. She takes it and he
lights it for her. Her hand is shaky. Their faces are very
close together. He holds the lighter close to her eyes.
BRANDON
(quietly)
Lovely eyes... honest eyes..
The light goes out.
BRANDON
They'll know whether he killed
himself.
BETTY
I don't.
BRANDON
How did you meet him?
BETTY
On a train. He said he lived here,
and he offered to make a reservation
for me.
BRANDON
Nice of him.
BETTY
He knew the immigration officer.
He eased himself in.
BRANDON
He was a great boy for that. What
else?
BETTY
That's all there is.
Brandon takes her by the shoulders and pulls her close,
looking into her eyes.
BRANDON
They're still honest eyes... but
there's something behind them.
He pulls her closer, about to kiss her.
BETTY
Go ahead...if you want to. It
doesn't matter.
BRANDON
I'd rather wait until it does
matter.
He lets go of her and starts across the room, picks up
telephone. Brandon turns with the telephone in his hand.
BRANDON
You tried to run away.
BETTY
There wasn't any plane.
BRANDON
It's always a mistake to run away.
Always.
He begins to dial.
FADE OUT:
FADE IN:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
Brandon is standing at the French window, a cup of coffee
in his hand. CAMERA PULLS BACK AS his eyes go over to Betty
who is in a chair with an untouched cup of black coffee on
the table beside her.
BRANDON
(going towards her)
Want a spike in it?
BETTY
(without looking at
him)
No thanks.
Her voice and expression are dead and exhausted. CAMERA
PULLS BACK FURTHER to SHOW Margo and Clarendon sitting
across the room from Betty. Margo is staring at Betty with
cold hostility. She is wearing slacks, but otherwise dressed
with care and finish. Clarendon is fully dressed and has
his silver-topped cane between his legs, but has slippers
on his feet.
MARGO
You make friends quickly, don't
you, Clark?
BRANDON
Sometimes.
MARGO
And without much discrimination.
BRANDON
Leave that one lay.
MARGO
They still hang women in Canada,
I've heard.
CLARENDON
So much less refined than frizzling
them in the chair.
MARGO
Oh, shut up!
(she looks down at
his feet)
You haven't even got your spats
on.
Brandon crosses to coffee table, picks up coffee pot and
goes to Margo with it.
MARGO
Think I'll have trouble staying
awake?
Brandon fills her cup silently. Margo chokes. Bites on her
handkerchief hard. She controls herself.
MARGO
I'm sorry. This thing has just
knocked me silly. How long do we
have to wait for this police
character?
BRANDON
Until he comes. He's a nice guy.
You've met him.
MARGO
That comedian?
Betty looking across at Brandon with sudden interest.
BRANDON
Don't let the eyeglass fool you.
That's what it's for.
DOOR BUZZER SOUNDS. Brandon crosses to open door. A plain-
clothes Dick named HANDLEY is standing there.
HANDLEY
You Mr. Brandon?
Brandon nods.
HANDLEY
Inspector Killaine's compliments.
He'll be up in another ten minutes.
Brandon nods again, and as Handley starts to turn away,
Brandon starts to close the door.
CUT TO:
EXT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S BALCONY -- NIGHT
Portable lights have been rigged up and a POLICE
PHOTOGRAPHER is taking photographs of the body. As he
finishes, a sheet is thrown over it and the photographer
starts to dismantle his equipment and pack it up. A couple
of PLAIN-CLOTHES MEN are standing around, and one of them
named GORE, a detective sergeant, a big sore-head who
doesn't like anybody. As the photographer extinguishes one
of the lights and starts to wind up the cord, Gore looks
off and scowls.
Killiane ENTERS SHOT briskly. He is wearing a trenchcoat
and no hat.
GORE
You in charge here?
KILLAINE
So it seems Sergeant.
GORE
Right.
KILLAINE
I hate to pull rank on you Sergeant,
but once in a while...for moral
purposes...you might address me as
"Inspector". In moments of extreme
desperation, you might even call
me "sir".
He goes over to the chaise, lifts the sheet off corpse,
looks down, replaces sheet, comes back to Gore.
KILLAINE
I knew him. He was easy to dislike,
poor chap.
GORE
They tell me he'll be a great loss
to the liquor trade. This Mayfield
girl...
He breaks off as Killaine reacts
GORE
... I supposed you knew her, too,
Inspector.
KILLAINE
I've met her.
GORE
It's her room. She only got to the
Hotel this afternoon,. With him.
(he indicates body
on chaise)
I guess he took too much for
granted. Here's the gun.
He takes it out of his pocket and holds it out on a
handkerchief. Killaine takes the gun from him, handkerchief
and all.
KILLAINE
Pearl-handled .25 Automatic, uh?
(he looks a little
closer)
No, it's a Belgian gun... 6.6 mm.
GORE
Correct, Inspector. A woman's gun.
U.S. 125 caliber ammunition in it.
It was on a table in there.
He nods towards room. Killaine frowns.
GORE
Nobody's been questioned yet. You
noticed the wound entry?
Killaine nods.
GORE
Much too low for a suicide. Not
conclusive, of course. But a woman
of ordinary height, standing rather
close to a tall man, such as he
was...
(indicating corpse)
...would be apt to shoot him about
where he got shot.
Killaine nods again.
GORE
Then there's the shell.
He takes out a small envelope, hands it to Killaine.
GORE
This make of gun throws a shell
backwards, high, and to the right.
The chaise is only about four feet
from the wall.
KILLAINE
So the shell ought to have gone
over?
GORE
Unless the gun was slanted up.
KILLAINE
So the wound and the shell give
you the same answer.
GORE
Right. A clean deduction from
observed facts. They've got to be
simple once in a while, Inspector.
KILLAINE
(dryly)
I've always looked forward to it.
All right, let's get him out of
here and tidy up.
He starts to turn away.
GORE
I'd take a look in her clothes
closet if I were you, Inspector.
Killaine nods and exits scene.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S ROOM -- NIGHT
Killaine enters from the balcony then stands a moment,
looking around, crosses to dressing table, looks down, and
we SEE traces of fingerprint powder on the toilet articles
and bottles. He doesn't touch anything. He crosses to
closet, opens door. A light goes on inside. He starts in.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - BETTY'S CLOSET -- NIGHT
Killaine examines several garments, takes a sports coat
off hanger, opens it up at lining. His looks becomes fixed
and intent. He reacts. (What he sees is that the sewed-in
label has been removed from the garment.) Slowly he replaces
the coat, then takes down another garment, goes through
the same performance. He whistles very softly between his
teeth, stands a moment with a puzzled expression on his
face, replaces the garment. Exits closet. Light goes out.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - LOBBY -- NIGHT
As elevator come up, Killaine exits elevator, crosses,
presses buzzer beside Brandon's door. Brandon opens it,
Killaine nods to him, passes him on the way in.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
As Killaine enters, stops, looking around.
KILLAINE
I'm sorry to have kept you waiting,
Mrs. West, Mr. Clarendon.
He turns to Betty.
KILLAINE
Miss Mayfield. There's not much I
can do tonight. But there is one
thing.
He moves across to Clarendon, takes gun and handkerchief
out of his pocket and holds it so only Clarendon can see
it.
KILLAINE
Mr. Clarendon, have you ever seen
this before?
CLARENDON
(looking down)
I'm sorry, Inspector, I don't know
much about..
KILLAINE
(sharply)
Recently, then.
CLARENDON
(slowly)
No, Not recently. I'm sure of that.
KILLAINE
Thank you.
He moves to Margo, holds gun in front of her.
KILLAINE
Mr. West?
Margo's eyes go down very slowly. She stares at the gun
for a long moment before speaking.
MARGO
(in a choked voice)
I never saw it before.
KILLAINE
Positive?
Margo lifts her face to him and nods.
KILLAINE
Thank you.
BRANDON
Yes, I've seen it before.
Killaine reacts sharply. Killaine catches the reaction
with the corner of his eye, but appears not to pay any
attention. Brandon obviously does see the reaction.
Killaine turns back to Brandon.
KILLAINE
Where?
BRANDON
On Miss Mayfield's balcony.. beside
the chaise, I picked it up. Don't
ask me why. I ought to know better.
KILLAINE
Quite sure you had no motive?
Killaine glances sidewise at Betty.
BRANDON
Could be.
KILLAINE
I rather thought so. And before
that, had you ever seen the gun?
BRANDON
No.
Margo is seen to react with great relief which she tries
to conceal. Killaine gives another quick sidelong look.
Brandon has continued to watch her.
KILLAINE
(to Brandon)
It was lying where on the balcony?
BRANDON
Near his right hand. About a foot
away. Perhaps more. Good heavens,
one doesn't use a tape measure.
KILLAINE
We do, when we get the chance.
Killaine turns so that he faces Margo and Clarendon.
KILLAINE
I needn't keep you any longer, Mr.
Clarendon.
CLARENDON
(standing up)
Thank you. It is rather late...
and I'm not young anymore. Good
night.
MARGO
What about me?
KILLAINE
Not quiet yet.
He crosses and opens door. Clarendon goes out. Killaine
shuts door, goes to Margo.
KILLAINE
You knew Mitchell pretty well,
didn't you, Mrs. West?
MARGO
I was in love with him... which
shows you the quality of my brains.
(bursting out--
looking at Betty)
Why don't you ask her about the
gun?
KILLAINE
I shall. From your knowledge of
Mitchell, would you say he would
be likely to commit suicide?
MARGO
Anybody could commit suicide, if
he felt low enough. I've felt it
myself.
KILLAINE
Then why not give Miss Mayfield
the benefit of the doubt?
MARGO
I'd be delighted to... anytime you
can show me the doubt. I'll wrap
it up in tissue paper and put a
Christmas seals on it for her.
KILLAINE
Thank you very much, Mrs. West.
Margo flounces to door, jerks it open before anybody can
get there to hold it for her, and goes out, banging the
door after her.
BRANDON
How about a cup of coffee?
KILLAINE
No thanks. I had some. How would
you like to take a walk for, say,
half and hour?
Brandon glances at Betty, then back at Killaine, Shrugs.
BRANDON
All right.
He crosses, gets hat and coat, goes to door and out.
Killaine turns to Betty.
KILLAINE
Mrs. West is a very emotional woman.
BETTY
I don't know her.. or particularly
want to.
KILLAINE
You probably know the type. You
find them in hotels and resorts
all over the world. They always
have clothes, and money, and usually
have had three or four husbands.
They dress and enamel themselves
with great care. They worry a great
deal about those little lines at
the corner of the eyes.. And they
demonstrate their incompetence at
the art of living bet getting mixed
up with people like Larry Mitchell.
(a beat)
Tell me about yourself, Miss
Mayfield.
BETTY
I was born in New York City. I
grew up. And here I am.
KILLAINE
I'll have to know a little more
than that.
BETTY
I'm sorry, that's all there is.
KILLAINE
Miss Mayfield, the humor of the
situation escapes me. Within 24
hours I shall know officially
whether Mitchell was murdered.
Privately, I'm quite sure of it
now. It happened in your room, and
you came to Vancouver with him..
At any rate, he made your hotel
reservation.. And you arrived
together. Here in this room he
behaved nastily to you, and you
said something to him which might
be taken as a threat. A few hours
later he was found dead on your
balcony. Would it be too much too
suggest that all these circumstances
taken together are a little
suspicious?
Betty doesn't answer.
KILLAINE
Please answer my question.
BETTY
You didn't ask a question. You
made a speech.
KILLAINE
That's an evasion and you know it.
BETTY
It is?
Their eyes meet in a long stare.
INT. ROYAL HOTEL - MARGO'S ROOM -- NIGHT
There is some moonlight. In the foreground, the back of a
man seated in a chair. Door opens, Margo is silhouetted
against corridor light. She switches light on, shuts door,
turns, and reacts violently. Clarendon is sitting in chair
with his cane between his knees. CAMERA PANS her over to
Clarendon.
MARGO
(tensely)
What are you doing here?
CLARENDON
I don't think you locked your door.
MARGO
What do you want?
CLARENDON
See h