SEVEN



                           by Andrew Kevin Walker












                                                      8/8/94











     NOTE: THE HARD COPY OF THIS SCRIPT CONTAINED SCENE NUMBERS.
     THEY HAVE BEEN REMOVED FOR THIS SOFT COPY.




     INT.  OLD HOUSE -- DAY

     Sunlight comes through the soot on the windows, more brown than
     bright.  SOMERSET, 45, stands in one corner of this small,
     second-story room.  He looks over the ceiling, looks down at the
     worn wooden floors, looks at the peeling wallpaper.

     He walks to the center of the room, continues his study, taking
     his time.  He halts, turns to one wall where the current
     wallpaper is torn away to reveal flowery wallpaper underneath.

     Somerset goes to this wall and runs his finger across one of the
     pale, red roses which decorates the older paper.  He pushes the
     grime away, brings the rose out more clearly.

     He reaches into his suit pocket and takes out a switchblade.  He
     flips the thin, lethal blade free.  Working deliberately,
     delicately, Somerset cuts a square around the rose, then peels
     the square of dry wallpaper away from the wall.  He studies it in
     his hand.

     EXT.  OLD HOUSE -- DAY

     Somerset stands in front of the old home.  He looks out at the
     surrounding farms and forests.  He ponders something.  Birds
     sing.

                                  MAN (O.S.)
                   Is something wrong?

     Somerset does not respond, just stares off.  The MAN, 34, wears a
     real-estate broker's jacket and stands beside a FOR SALE sign in
     the muddy lawn.

                                  MAN
                   Is there something the matter?

     Somerset turns to face the man, then looks back at the house.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No.  No... it's just that everything here
                   seems... so strange.

                                  MAN
                   Strange?  There's nothing strange about
                   this place.  The house'll need a little
                   fixing up, that's for sure...

                                  SOMERSET
                   No.  I like the house, and this place.

                                  MAN
                   I was about to say.  Cause this place is
                   about as normal as places get.

     Somerset nods, taking a deep breath.  He smiles.

                                  SOMERSET
                   That's what I mean.  Strange.

     Somerset looks back to the beautiful landscape.  The man does not
     understand.

     INT.  AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY

     Somerset is in the window seat, looking out the window of the
     speeding train, smoking a cigarette.  He is near the back of the
     car, away from the few other passengers.

     Outside, farms, fields, small homes and lawns rush by.  The
     panorama is dappled by the rays of the soon to be setting sun.

     INT.  AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY

     The train is almost full, moving slower.  Somerset has his
     suitcase on the aisle seat beside him.  He holds a hardcover book
     unopened on his lap.  He still stares out the window, but his
     face is tense.  The train is passing an ugly, swampy field.  The
     sun has gone under.

     Though it seems impossible it ever could have gotten there, a
     car's burnt-out skeleton sits rusting in the bracken.

     Ahead, the city waits.  The sky is full of smokestacks and huge
     industrial cranes.

     INT.  AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY

     The train is passing urban streets below.  Slums and smashed
     cars.  People stand in groups in the corners.  Bleak.

     Somerset's suitcase is now on the window seat.  Somerset has
     moved to the aisle.  He is reading his book.  He looks up from
     the book and rubs his eyes, then looks back to continue reading,
     not once looking out the window.

     EXT.  CITY STREET -- NIGHT

     Somerset carries his suitcase outside the train station.  The
     city demands attention: cars screeching, people yelling, sirens
     blaring.

     Somerset passes a family of bewildered tourists.  A WEIRD MAN has
     a hand on the tourist-father's suitcase.

     It has become a tugging match with the Weird Man shouting, "I'll
     take you to a taxi... I'll take you."  Ahead, a group is gathered
     on the sidewalk near two ambulances.  People clamor to get a look
     at a BLOODY BODY which lies on the street.

     Policeman try to hold the crowd off.  Ambulance attendants
     administer aid to the victim, who convulses.  Somerset moves by,
     ignoring it all.  He motions for a cab.  One pulls up from the
     street's stream of vehicles.

     INT.  CAB -- NIGHT

     Somerset throws his suitcase in and shuts the door behind him.

                                  CAB DRIVER
                           (about the crowd)
                   What's the big fuss?

     Somerset looks out at the crowd, looks at the driver.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Why do you care?

                                  CAB DRIVER
                           (under his breath)
                   Well, excuse me all to hell.

     The driver leans forward, checking it out.  The circle of
     spectators shifts suddenly.  A man has shoved another man and
     they're really going at it now.  The swing at each other and tear
     at each other's clothing.  One man's flailing fist connects and
     the other man's face is instantly bloodied.  The fight grows even
     more spastic.  Policemen try to stop it.

                                  CAB DRIVER
                   Crazy fucks.

     The driver pulls away and the cab rages down the street.
     Somerset watches the parade of neon passing on the avenue.  He
     slumps back in the seat and closes his eyes.

                                  CAB DRIVER
                   Where you headed?

     Somerset opens his eyes.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Far away from here.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT

     The curtains are closed.  The SOUNDS of the CITY are here as they
     will be everywhere in this story.  A CAR ALARM is SOUNDING,
     shrill and clear.  Somerset's life is packed into moving boxes,
     except for some clothing in a closet and hundreds and hundreds of
     books on the shelves of one wall.  Somerset is lying on the bed,
     dressed only in his underwear.

     He reaches to the nightstand, to a wooden, pyramidical metronome.
     He frees the metronome's weighted swingarm so it moves back and
     forth.  Swings to the left -- TICK, swings to the right -- TICK.
     Tick... tick... tick... measured and steady.

     Somerset situates on the bed, closes his eyes.  Tick... tick...
     tick.  The metronome's sound competes with the sound of the car
     alarm.  Somerset's face tightens as he concentrates on the
     metronome.  His eyes close tighter.  Tick... tick... tick.  The
     swingarm moves evenly.  Somerset's breathing deepens.

     Tick... tick... tick.  The car alarm seems quieter.

     Tick... tick... tick.  Somerset continues his concentration.  The
     metronome's sound seems louder.

     Tick... tick... tick.  The sound of the car alarm fades, and is
     GONE.  The metronome is the only sound.

     Somerset's face relaxes as he begins to fall asleep.  Tick...
     tick... tick...

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     SUNDAY

     INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- MORNING

     Somerset picks items off a moving box: his keys, wallet,
     switchblade, gold homicide badge.  Finally, he opens the
     hardcover book he had with him on the train.  From the pages, he
     takes the pale, paper rose.

     INT.  TENEMENT APARTMENT -- DAY

     Somerset stands before a wall which is stained by a star-burst of
     blood.  A body lies on the floor under a sheet.  A sawed-off
     shotgun lies not far from the body.  The apartment is gloomy.

     DETECTIVE TAYLOR, 52, stands on the other side of the room, looks
     through a notepad.

                                  TAYLOR
                   Neighbors heard them screaming at each
                   other for like two hours.  It was nothing
                   new.  But, then they heard the gun go off.
                   Both barrels.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Did the wife confess?

                                  TAYLOR
                   When the patrolman came she was trying
                   put his head back together.  She was crying
                   too hard to say anything.

     Somerset beings walking around the apartment.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Why always like this?  Only after the
                   fact... this sudden realization, that if
                   you shoot someone, or stick a knife in
                   them, that person will cease to exist.

                                  TAYLOR
                   Crime of passion.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Yes.  Look at all the passion splattered up
                   on the wall here.

                                  TAYLOR
                   This is a done deal.  All but the
                   paperwork.

     Taylor shifts his weight, impatient.  Somerset looks at a
     coloring book open on the coffee table.  There are crayons beside
     it.  Somerset picks the book up, flips through the pages.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Did their son see it happen?

                                  TAYLOR
                   I don't know.

     Taylor closes his notebook, perturbed.  Somerset looks at the
     pictures of cute, crudely colored animals.

                                  TAYLOR
                   What kind of fucking question is that
                   anyway?

     Taylor walks over and grabs the coloring book to get his
     attention.

                                  TAYLOR
                   You know, we're all real glad we're getting
                   rid of you, Somerset.  You know that?  I
                   mean, it's always these questions with
                   you... "Did the kid see it?"  Well, who
                   gives a fuck?  Huh?
                           (points)
                   He's dead.  His wife killed him.

     Taylor throws the coloring book back to Somerset and walks.

                                  TAYLOR
                   Anything else has nothing to do with us.

     Taylor leaves, pushing past DETECTIVE DAVID MILLS, 31, who is
     just entering.  Mills is muscular and handsome.  He looks back at
     Taylor, then around the apartment, a bit disoriented.

     Somerset puts down the coloring book.  He stares at the floor,
     showing no reaction to Taylor's tantrum.

                                  MILLS
                   Uh, Lieutenant Somerset?

     Somerset turns to see Mills.

     EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY

     A body bag is carried through a crowd of people outside the
     tenement building.

     Somerset follows the body bag out and Mills follows Somerset.
     They walk towards the end of the filthy block, past a man
     urinating on a car.

                                  MILLS
                   I'm a little thrown.  I just got in town
                   like twenty minutes ago and they dumped me
                   here.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Since we're just starting out, I thought we
                   could go to a bar... sit and talk for
                   awhile.  After that, we'll...

                                  MILLS
                           (interrupting)
                   Actually, if it's all the same, I'd like to
                   get to the precinct house a.s.a.p.  Seeing
                   how we don't have much time for this whole
                   transition thing.

     Somerset keeps walking, says nothing.

                                  MILLS
                   I need to start getting the feel of it all,
                   right?  Meet the people.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I meant to ask you something, Mills, when
                   we spoke on the phone.  I can't help
                   wondering... why here?

                                  MILLS
                   I... I don't follow.

                                  SOMERSET
                   All this effort you've made to get
                   transferred, it's the first question that
                   pops into my head.

                                  MILLS
                   I'm here for the same reasons as you, I
                   guess.  Or, at least, the same reasons you
                   used to have for being here before...
                   before you decided to... quit.

     Somerset stops and faces Mills.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You just met me.

                                  MILLS
                   Maybe I'm not understanding the question.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's very simple.  You worked a nice, quiet
                   town, but you fought to get here as if your
                   life depended on it.  I've just never seen
                   it done that way before, Detective.

                                  MILLS
                   Maybe I thought I could do more good here
                   than there.  I don't know.  Look, it'd be
                   great by me if we didn't start right off
                   kicking each other in the balls.  But,
                   you're calling the shots, Lieutenant, so...
                   however you want it to go.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Let me tell you how I want this to go.  I
                   want you to look, and I want you to listen.

                                  MILLS
                   I wasn't standing around guarding the local
                   Taco Bell.  I've worked homicide for five
                   and a half years.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Not here.

                                  MILLS
                   I realize that.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Well, over the next seven days, do me the
                   favor of remembering it.

     Somerset turns and walks away.  Mills stands a moment, pissed.
     He follows after Somerset.

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     MONDAY

     INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- EARLY MORNING

     Somerset lies asleep in bed.  It is still dark outside.  The
     PHONE beside the inactive metronome RINGS.  Somerset awakens
     suddenly, startled.  He looks towards the phone.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- EARLY MORNING

     It is just barely becoming light outside.  Mills is wide awake in
     bed beside the sleeping form of his wife, TRACY, 30.  Mills looks
     tired.  He listens to passing traffic.  He covers his eyes with
     his forearm.

     He takes his arm away and sits up, frustrated, sits on the edge
     of the bed.  The room is a shambles, filled with moving boxes.

     Light coming through the window glows upon a football trophy
     sticking from one box.

     Large and noble, a golden player stands in frozen motion at the
     trophy's pinnacle.

     Mills looks at the trophy and a fond smile forms on his face.
     The PHONE RINGS.  Mills looks towards it.  Tracy awakens.  She
     looks up with half-opened eyes, a beautiful woman.

                                  TRACY
                   What is it?

     Phone rings.  Mills reaches to touch Tracy's shoulder.

                                  MILLS
                   It's okay.

     Mills leans to get the phone.  Tracy seems frightened.

                                  TRACY
                   Honey... where are we?

     EXT.  APARTMENT BUILDING, ALLEYWAY -- EARLY MORNING

     Somerset and Mills, both wearing badges, walk with OFFICER DAVIS,
     a beefy, uniformed cop.  They pass police cars and head into a
     trash strewn alleyway.  Davis hands Somerset two flashlights.

                                  DAVIS
                   Everything's like I found it.  I didn't
                   touch anything.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What time did you confirm the death?

                                  DAVIS
                   Like I said, I didn't touch him, but he's
                   had his face in a plate of spaghetti for
                   about forty-five minutes now.

     They reach a rusty, side door, which Davis pulls open.

     INT.  APARTMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- EARLY MORNING

     They enter a dark, ugly stairwell.

                                  MILLS
                           (to Davis) 
                   Hold on... you mean you didn't check for
                   vital signs?

                                  DAVIS
                   Did I stutter?  Believe me, he ain't
                   breathing, unless he's started breathing
                   spaghetti sauce.

                                  MILLS
                   The point is, whenever you find...

                                  DAVIS
                   Begging your pardon, but the guy's sitting
                   in pile of his own shit and piss.  If he
                   ain't dead, he would've stood up by now.

     Mills is angry, about to speak, but Somerset heads him off.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to Davis)
                   Thank you, officer.  We'll need to talk to
                   you again, after we've looked around.

                                  DAVIS
                   Yes, sir.

     Davis walks out, eyeing Mills.  Mills watches him go.  The rusty
     door slams shut behind Davis.  It's very dark.  Somerset turns on
     his flashlight, hands the other to Mills and starts upstairs.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I wonder what exactly was the point of the
                   conversation you were about to get into?

                                  MILLS
                   And I wonder how many times Officer Davis
                   there has found a dead man who wasn't
                   really dead until Davis was in the car
                   calling it in and eating a donut.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Drop it.

                                  MILLS
                   For now.

     INT.  APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING

     Somerset comes from the stairwell, looking down the dark hall.
     At the end of the hall, a door is open.  The light of a CAMERA
     FLASH spills out from that room every few seconds.

     Mills and Somerset move on.  Somerset takes out rubber gloves and
     slips them on, looking at something on the floor ahead.  A yellow
     RECYCLING BIN sits just outside the door.  It contains many neat,
     string-bound stacks of issues of READER'S DIGEST.

     INT.  APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- EARLY MORNING

     There are lights on in this room.  Lamps with dusty shades.  A
     few porn mags on a table.  Somerset and Mills cross.  A couch
     against one wall is piled with yellowed, once white pillows.  It
     faces two small televisions, both on with no sound.

     INT.  APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- EARLY MORNING

     Somerset and Mills enter, using their flashlights in the dark.
     Mills takes out a handkerchief, covering his nose.  ERIC is
     crouched on the floor, putting camera equipment away.

     He's wearing a medical mask over his face.  He hoists his bag and
     moves past the detectives.

                                  ERIC
                   Enjoy.

     Eric leaves.  Somerset sweeps the room with his flashlight...

     At the stove, each burner has a used pot or pan on it.  Food has
     been slopped there and on the adjoining counter-top and sink.
     Used utensils are everywhere, along with empty tin cans and jars.
     Cockroaches swarm.

     The flashlight beam follows a trail of dripped sauces, soups and
     crumbs of food across the floor from the stove to a kitchen
     table.  The kitchen table is covered in soiled paper plates which
     hold bits of half-eaten sandwiches, potatoes, beef stew, donuts
     and many other junk foods.

     The kitchen is tiny; barely enough room for three people.  The
     kitchen table is at the center of the room.  An OBESE MAN is
     slumped forward in a kitchen chair.  He is face down dead in a 
     plate of spaghetti.

                                  MILLS
                   Christ... somebody phone Guinness.  I think
                   we've got a World's Record here.

     Mills walks to the dead man, leaning to study, without touching.

                                  MILLS
                   Who said this was murder?

                                  SOMERSET
                   No one yet.

                                  MILLS
                   Then, why are we wasting our time?  This
                   guy's heart's got to be roughly the size of
                   a canned ham.  If this isn't a coronary, I
                   don't know what is.

     Somerset moves his flashlight beam down the obese corpse, stops
     at the man's feet.  Somerset kneels.

     At the obese man's pants cuff, there's a tiny bit of rope
     sticking out.  Somerset uses a pen to lift the pants leg.  Rope
     is tied around the swollen, purple ankle.

                                  MILLS
                   Or not.

     Somerset stands and steps back.  Mills bends to take his place,
     looking under the table and shining his flashlight into the
     corpse's lap.  The obese man's bloated hands are folded there,
     bound tightly with rope.

                                  MILLS
                   Still... he could have tied himself up, to
                   make it look like murder.  I saw a guy
                   once... committed suicide, but wanted to
                   make sure his family could collect the life
                   insurance, right?

     Somerset does not listen.  He is focused on the corpse, studies
     the back of the man's head and neck.  He runs his pen against the
     back of the corpse's neck, combing the hair upwards.

     There are small circular and semi-circular BRUISES on the back of
     the obese man's head and neck, some hidden under the hair.

                                  MILLS
                   When we found him, he was lying there with
                   a knife in his back, so what else could it
                   be but homicide?  Except, I finally figured
                   out... he held the knife behind him... put
                   the tip of it in his own back and got real
                   close to the wall... then he shoved his
                   body backwards...

                                  SOMERSET
                           (irritated)
                   Please be quiet for a while, would you?

     Mills looks up at Somerset from below.  Somerset remains focused
     on the bruises.

                                  MILLS
                           (sarcastic)
                   Oh, yes, sir.  Forgive me.

     Mills stands and walks around to the other side of the table,
     where he gets down again.

                                  MILLS
                   There's a bucket here.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What?

                                  MILLS
                   There's a bucket.  Under the table.

     Somerset crouches, pulls up the cheap tablecloth on his side of
     the table.  A METAL BUCKET sits under the table.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What is it?

     Mills slides under with his flashlight, angling in the confined
     space to look.  He is repulsed and pulls back.

                                  MILLS
                   It's vomit.

     Mills stands and backs away, near the refrigerator, not wanting
     to be anywhere near that bucket.

                                  MILLS
                   It's a bucket of vomit.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Is there any blood in it?

                                  MILLS
                   I don't know.  Feel free to look for
                   yourself, okay?

     Somerset stands, stares at the obese man.  He shakes his head,
     perplexed.  There is a KNOCK at the door.  The detectives look to
     see DOCTOR THOMAS O'NEILL, 52, the medical examiner, in the
     doorway.  O'Neill is looking at the ceiling.  He flicks the lights
     switch.  No light, so he flicks the switch up and down.

                                  O'NEILL
                   Wonderful.

     O'Neill seems a bit gone.  He drops his black bag onto the floor
     beside the corpse.  he begins to sort through the bag, surgical
     tools clinking together.

     Mills turns to open the refrigerator.  It's nearly empty.

                                  MILLS
                           (to Somerset)
                   You think it was poison?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Guessing at this point is useless.

     The trash can beside the refrigerator is filled to the brim with
     empty food containers.  Mills begins to poke around with a pen.

                                  O'NEILL
                   You girls have got forensics waiting
                   outside.  I don't know if we'll all fit
                   though.

                                  MILLS
                   There's room.  Light's the problem.

     Somerset looks at Mills, then at the space limitations.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Still... two is company here.  And, three
                   is certainly a crowd.
                           (pause)
                   Detective Mills, go help the officers
                   question the neighbors.

     Mills looks up, not pleased.

                                  MILLS
                   I'd rather stay on this.

     Somerset is looking at the corpse.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Send one of the forensics in on your way
                   out.

     Mills does not move.  He lifts his flashlight to shine the light
     on the side of Somerset's face.  A moment.  Somerset looks at
     Mills, the light shining directly in Somerset's eyes.  A longer
     moment.  Mills switches off the light and leaves.

     O'Neill places both hands on the dead man's head and lifts the
     swollen visage from the spaghetti.

                                  O'NEILL
                   He is dead.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Thank you, Doctor.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

     Somerset drives with Mills as the passenger.  Heavy city traffic.
     Both stare ahead in silence.  Mills is a bundle of nerves.

                                  MILLS
                   You've seen my files, right?  Seen the
                   things I've done?

                                  SOMERSET
                   No.

                                  MILLS
                           (looking out window)
                   Anyway... I did my time on door-to-doors,
                   and walking a beat.  I did all that shit
                   for a long time.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Good.

                                  MILLS
                   The badge in my pocket says "detective,"
                   same as yours.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I made a decision, because I have to
                   consider the integrity of the scene.  I
                   can't worry whether you think you're
                   getting enough time on the playing field.

                                  MILLS
                   Yeah, well, all I want is...
                           (pause)
                   Just, just don't be jerking me off.  That's
                   all I ask.  Don't jerk me off.

     Mills looks at Somerset.  Somerset keeps his eyes on the road,
     but nods slightly.  That said, Mills slumps low into his seat.

                                  SOMERSET
                   We'll be spending every waking hour
                   together till I leave.  I'll show you who
                   your friends are, and your enemies.  I'll
                   help you cut through the red tape and I
                   will help you "integrate," as the captain
                   puts it.  However...
                           (pauses, clears throat)
                   No matter how much you beg or plead...
                   jerking off is something you'll have to do
                   for yourself.

     This throws Mills.  Somerset has a sense of humour?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Is that clear?

                                  MILLS
                   Okay... sure...  It's just that, with my
                   old partner, you know...

                                  SOMERSET
                   I just don't think we should have that sort
                   of relationship.  We'd start quarreling
                   over insignificant things.

     Mills lets out a nervous laugh, feels a bit of weight off his
     shoulders.

                                  MILLS
                   Whatever you say, Detective.  Beautiful.

     INT.  AUTOPSY ROOM -- DAY

     The room is large, cold and clean.  Stainless steel and white
     tile.  Many pathologists work at slabs.  A bone saw screams.
     Mills and Somerset are with DOCTOR SANTIAGO, who stands over the
     obese corpse which is pretty well dissected already.

                                  SANTIAGO
                   He's been dead for a long time, and I can
                   tell you it was not a poison.

     Santiago moves to make room for Mills to stand beside him.  Mills
     moves up a little, but not much, looking on in disgust.  Santiago
     reaches into the man's belly.  We do not see.

                                  MILLS
                   Ah, man... how does somebody let himself go
                   like that?  Look at the blubber.

     Santiago moves something and there is a squashy sound.

                                  SANTIAGO
                   It took four orderlies and me all together
                   just to put this body on the table.

                                  MILLS
                   How did the fat fuck ever fit out the door
                   of his apartment?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Yes, it's obvious he was a shut-in.  Not an
                   enviable life, but, maybe he still deserves
                   a modicum of respect in spite of that.

                                  SANTIAGO
                   Are you looking here?  First... see how big
                   this stomach is.  And, see the strange
                   thing.  Stretches.  And, here it is
                   distended.  Look at the size of that,
                   because of all the foods.

                                  MILLS
                   I can see what you're pointing at, but...

                                  SANTIAGO
                   Lines of distention across the stomach, and
                   parts have ripped open.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (disbelief)
                   Doctor, are you saying... this man ate till
                   he burst?

                                  SANTIAGO
                   Well, he didn't really burst.  Not all the
                   way.  But, he was bleeding inside himself,
                   and there is a hematoma on the outside, on
                   the belly.  Very large.

                                  MILLS
                   He died by eating?

                                  SANTIAGO
                   Yes.  And, there's something else here you
                   have to look at and see.

     Santiago goes to root through many jars on a table.  Somerset
     walks around the slab, looking down at the obese man's propped
     up, partially shaved head.

                                  SOMERSET
                   These bruises on the victim's head...

     More round and semi-circular bruises have been revealed, all
     about the same diameter as a dime.

                                  SANTIAGO
                   I don't know what they are yet.  They...

                                  SOMERSET
                   They could have been caused by a gun.  The
                   barrel of a gun... pressed against the back
                   of his head.

     Santiago picks up the jar he was looking for, comes to lean and
     look at the obese man's head, nodding again.

                                  SANTIAGO
                   If it was jammed against him hard enough,
                   sure.  It's possible.  Here...

     Santiago gives the jar to Somerset.

                                  SANTIAGO
                   Most of the stomach's food contents are in
                   the lab now.... but, these... I found these
                   in his stomach too.

     Somerset holds the jar up.  Inside are many little pieces of blue
     plastic.  They are curled slightly, as if they are scrapings.
     Somerset hands the jar to Mills.  Mills shakes it, studying.

                                  MILLS
                   Plastic?

                                  SANTIAGO
                   Why these are in a fat man's stomach, I
                   don't know.

     INT.  APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- DAY

     The room where the obese corpse was found is now lit by
     fluorescent light.  Two forensics, a MALE and FEMALE, are dusting
     for prints.  Somerset and Mills are on their hands and knees.
     Somerset holds the jar and touches the linoleum floor.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Same color and texture.

                                  MILLS
                           (to forensics)
                   Have you found any plastic scrapings near
                   the stove or sink?  Near the food?

                                  MALE FORENSIC
                   What do you mean?

     Mills and Somerset continue looking around the floor.

                                  MILLS
                           (to Somerset)
                   This doesn't make any sense.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You always have to find one singular thing
                   to focus on.  There's always one thing, and
                   it may be as small as a speck of dust, but
                   you find it and focus... till it's an
                   exhausted possibility.

     The forensics watch, curious.  Somerset is near the refrigerator.

                                  MILLS
                   It could be nothing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   But, why would there be so many pieces in
                   his stomach if it were nothing?  It must
                   have been intentional.

     Somerset stops.  There are deep scratches here in the linoleum.
     He fingers the grooves, then takes a piece of the plastic from
     the jar.  He holds the piece to the floor, fiddles... fits it
     into one of the scratches.

     Somerset gets off the floor and looks down.  These scratches are
     in front of the refrigerator.  it looks like they were caused by
     the refrigerator having been pulled away from the wall and pushed
     back into place at some time.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to Mills)
                   Come here.

     INT.  APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- LATER DAY

     Mills and Somerset pull the refrigerator, rocking it back and
     forth away from the wall to get a clear view behind it.  They
     strain, pull it a few more feet, and release.

     Mills leans to look at the wall behind.  Shock.

                                  MILLS
                   Holy shit.

     Somerset comes to look.  Behind the refrigerator, there is a
     space on the wall where the dust has been wiped away.  In that
     space, the words: ONE IS GLUTTONY.  The letters have been
     smeared on in grease.  A NOTE is pinned beside them.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, CAPTAIN'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING

     The captain's office is filled with pictures, books and
     mugsheets.  Piles of paperwork abound, yet the office is
     meticulously well kept.  The CAPTAIN, 50, sits at his tidy desk.
     He wears a white shirt and conservative tie.

     He's a calm man, but whenever he is not speaking, without fail,
     he clenches his jaw over and over, causing the muscles in his
     neck and jaw to pulse.  Somerset and Mills sit before him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   The bruises were caused by the muzzle of a
                   forty-five.  So, there was a gun against
                   his head and he was given a choice.  Eat,
                   or get your brains blown out.

     Somerset gets up to pace.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He ate his fill, and was forced to continue
                   eating... till his body rejected the food.
                   the killer held a bucket under him, and
                   then kept serving.  He took his time.  The
                   coroner says this might have gone on for
                   more than twelve hours.  The victim's
                   throat was swollen from the effort, and
                   there was probably a point where he passed
                   out.  That's when killer kicked him in the
                   stomach.  Popped him.

                                  MILLS
                   This was one sadistic motherfucker.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   That seems obvious.

     Somerset picks up a photocopy of the NOTE from behind the fridge.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (reads)
                   "Dear Detectives, Long is the way, and
                   hard, that out of hell leads up to light."
                   It's the murderer's way of announcing
                   himself.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Announcing what?

                                  SOMERSET
                   There are seven deadly sins.  Gluttony,
                   wrath, greed...

                                  CAPTAIN
                   So what?  This victim...

                                  SOMERSET
                   ... envy, sloth, pride and lust.  Seven.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Hey, so gluttony is one of the seven deadly
                   sins.  But, this was a fat guy.  The killer
                   may have felt this was the just best way to
                   torture him.
                   And, writing on the walls happens all the
                   time.  It's like the fashionable thing to
                   do.

                                  SOMERSET
                   One is gluttony.

     The captain is disgruntled, clenching his jaw, looks at Mills.

                                  MILLS
                   This is his stuff.  I've been out in the
                   cold all day.

                                  SOMERSET
                   This is a premeditated puzzle, and it's
                   only the beginning.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Always working up there, huh, Somerset?
                   Big brain's always cooking.

     Somerset sits.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'm declining this case.  I want us
                   reassigned.

                                  MILLS
                   Whoa, whoa... what?!

                                  CAPTAIN
                   What's this: "I'm declining this case?"  It
                   don't work that way.

                                  SOMERSET
                   This can't be my last duty here.  It will
                   go on and on.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   I know what you're thinking, okay?  You
                   don't want to get in bed with this every
                   night, but it's different now.  You're
                   retiring.  In six days you're all the way
                   gone.

     Somerset shakes his head.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   You've left unfinished business before.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Everything else was taken as close to
                   conclusion as humanly possible.  Also...
                   this shouldn't be his first assignment.

                                  MILLS
                   This isn't my first assignment, dickhead.
                   What the hell?

     Mills stands, furious.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   I don't have anyone else to give this to,
                   Somerset, you know that.  And nobody's
                   going to swap with you.

                                  MILLS
                   Give it to me.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   How's that?

                                  MILLS
                   There's nothing that says I have to work
                   with him.  If Somerset wants out,
                   "goodbye."  Give it to me.

     The captain considers this.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's too soon for him.

                                  MILLS
                           (to the captain)
                   Can we talk about this in private?

     The captain looks at Somerset, then at Mills.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   That's not necessary.  You're in.

                                  MILLS
                   Thank you.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Go start picking up the pieces.  We'll
                   shuffle some paper and try to get you a new
                   partner.

     Mills looks at Somerset, then leaves, closing the door.  Somerset
     seems deflated, staring at the floor.  He looks at the captain.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   You win, Somerset.  You're out.

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     TUESDAY

     EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY

     A newspaper vendor lays out a pile of tabloid newspapers at the
     front of his busy newsstand.

     The papers' headline is: BIZARRE MURDER!, in huge, black print.

     The vendor lays out another tabloid pile.  Headline: "EAT OR DIE"
     SAYS GLUTTONY KILLER!!, in big, red letters.

     The vendor throws down a third tabloid stack.  SICKENING
     MURDER -- EXCLUSIVE DETAILS INSIDE!, it reads.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

     The office is old, with a single window which faces a billboard.
     TRAFFIC is HEARD from outside.  There are moving boxes on the
     floor.  Somerset is at his desk with paperwork in two sloppy
     piles.  He uses a manual typewriter, filling in a yellow form.
     He types hunt-and-peck, slowly.  He finishes the form and pulls
     it out.  There is a knock at the door.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Come in.

     The captain pushes the door and stands in the doorway with a
     PAINTER/WORKMAN at his side.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Excuse us.  We have some business to take
                   care of.

     As always, the neatly groomed captain clenches his jaw.

     Somerset lines a new form in the typewriter, starts typing.

     The captain strolls in.  Two boxes sit on the floor with
     DETECTIVE MILLS written across them.  He picks up one of the
     boxes and sets it on top of the other.

     At the open door, the workman takes a razor blade from his kit.
     He brings it against the writing on the glass of the door:
     DETECTIVE SOMERSET.  The workman pushes the razor to start
     scraping the name away, and the razor on glass sounds like
     fingernails on a blackboard.

     Somerset looks up.

                                  WORKMAN
                   Sorry.

     Somerset turns back to the typing, hunt-and-peck.  The captain
     watches.  The workman continues.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Have you heard?

                                  SOMERSET
                           (not looking up)
                   No, I haven't heard.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   There was a second.

     Somerset stops, looks at the captain.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Already.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Greed.  It was written in blood.

     Somerset thinks about this, then turns to type.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's none of my business anymore.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   I thought you might want to be filled in.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'm sure everyone's doing their best.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Yeah.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Good.

     Hunt-and-peck.  The captain's jowls clamp.  He steps up to
     Somerset's desk, begins to straighten the two piles of forms.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Come on.  What are you going to do with
                   yourself out there?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'll get a job, maybe on a farm.  I'll work
                   on the house.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Can't you feel it yet?  Can't you feel that
                   feeling... ?  You're not going to be a cop
                   anymore.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What are you talking about?

                                  CAPTAIN
                   You know.

     Somerset reclines, facing the captain.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Did you read in the paper today, about the
                   man who was walking his dog?  he was
                   attacked, and his wallet and his watch
                   were taken.  And then, while he was still
                   lying unconscious, his attacker stabbed him
                   with a knife in both eyes.  It happened
                   four blocks from here.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   I heard.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I have no understanding of this place
                   anymore.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   It's always been like this.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Really?

     Somerset saddles up to the typewriter.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Maybe you're right.

     The captain lays the paperwork down.  Both piles are now neat.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   You do this work.  You were made for it,
                   and I don't think you can deny that.  I
                   certainly can't believe you're trading it
                   in for a tool belt and a fishing rod.
                           (pause, walks to leave)
                   Maybe I'm wrong.

     The captain leaves.  Somerset looks up.  He grabs the paperwork
     piles and ruffles them back to their disheveled state.  He looks
     up at the workman.

     The workman is looking at Somerset, has a rag in his hand to
     remove the last remnants of Somerset's name.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (angrily)
                   Try putting a little elbow grease into it.

     The workman is startled, continues his work.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATE NIGHT

     There is a dart board on one wall.  THWACK -- Somerset's
     switchblade hits the board and embeds.

     Somerset crosses the nearly empty living room and takes the blade
     from the dart board.  He walks back to stand in front of the only
     chair in the room.  He throws the switchblade.

     It embeds in the dart board.  Somerset sits.

     He picks a book off the floor and holds it in his lap.  KIDS can
     be HEARD CURSING and playing LOUD MUSIC from outside the
     shuttered window.  Somerset stares at the ceiling.  He opens the
     book and looks at the pages... stares at the pages...

     He puts the book back down on the floor.

     EXT.  CITY STREET -- LATE NIGHT

     Somerset gets out of his car.  He walks down the sidewalk with a
     notebook in hand.  THUNDER is HEARD.  He takes a cigarette out of
     a full pack and lights it.

     He walks along the avenue.  Cars race by in the street.  People
     walk briskly past.  At a public phone, a man shouts curses
     angrily into the phone, then starts pounding the phone box with
     the receiver.  A fire engine passes in the street, sirens, horn
     and lights going full blast.

     Somerset starts up a flight of massive stone stairs, past several
     sleeping vagrants.  One VAGRANT sits up and looks to Somerset.

                                  VAGRANT
                   Spare me a cigarette?  Spare a cigarette?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Sorry, last one.

     Ahead of Somerset, the library looms, a solid, powerful
     structure.

     INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATE NIGHT

     Somerset and GEORGE, 62, the night guard, enter the vast space of
     the deserted main library.

     The lamps hanging from the ceiling give off a warm, pleasant glow
     over mahogany tables and chairs.  To each side of this center
     area are tall bookshelves.  Balconies surround the room on all
     four sides; three levels which overlook the center.

     Somerset is happy.  This is his element, this peaceful, elegant
     place.  George motions to the long, empty tables.

                                  GEORGE
                   Sit where you'd like.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Thanks, George.

                                  MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
                   Hey there, Smilely.

     Somerset looks up to the top balcony where TWO OTHER SECURITY
     GUARDS and one JANITOR look over the banister.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Evening, gentlemen.

     They all say their hellos.

                                  FIRST GUARD
                   Come on, George.  Cards are getting cold.

                                  GEORGE
                           (to Somerset)
                   Duty calls.

     George pumps Somerset's hand, then moves to a stairwell leading
     to the balconies.  Somerset walks down the main aisle, looks
     around at the shelves and shelves of books.

     George reaches the top balcony and the others sit at a card table
     where a poker game is in progress.

     Somerset puts his notebook down on one table and switches on a
     green banker's lamp.  THUNDER SOUNDS.  Somerset looks up.

     Rain is beginning to fall on the windows of the high ceiling.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (shouts up)
                   All these books, gentlemen... a world of
                   knowledge at your disposal, and you play
                   poker all night.

     UP ON THE BALCONY

     George has taken a huge BOOM-BOX from a broom closet.

                                  JANITOR
                   We got culture.

                                  SECOND GUARD
                           (dealing cards)
                   Yeah, we got culture coming out our asses.

     They laugh.  George sets the boom-box against the railing of the
     balcony so the speakers face towards Somerset.

     DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

     Somerset has gone into one bookshelf aisle.  Poker table
     conversation echoes from above.  Somerset searches books, reading
     spines.  He finds one book and pulls it, continues searching.

     UP ON THE BALCONY

     George hits play on the boom-box and turns the volume way up.

                                  GEORGE
                   How's this for culture?

     DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

     Somerset keeps looking for books.  From far away come the strains
     of MOZART MUSIC filling the air.  High, drifting music, such as
     AIR (On the G string.)  Somerset stops, listens.

     He closes his eyes and soaks it in.

     UP ON THE BALCONY

     George sits at the card table, takes out a cigar and lights up.
     He looks to the ground floor.

                                  GEORGE
                   Where'd you get to, Smilely?

     Below, Somerset comes out from the aisle.

     DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

     Somerset looks up at George.

                                  SOMERSET
                    Thank you.

     INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATER NIGHT

     MUSIC CONTINUES, spinning through the air like a slow, cool
     breeze.

     Somerset walks, surrounded by books, carrying several.  He pulls
     another off a shelf and adds it to his pile.

     UP ON THE BALCONY

     George lays down a winning hand.  The others toss in their cards
     in disgust.  George laughs, spouting cigar smoke.

     Cigar smoke floats up in the air, thinning gracefully.  Above,
     rain continues dancing on the ceiling windows.

     DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

     Somerset sits, opens a book on the table and reads.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM/LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

     MUSIC CONTINUES, uninterrupted over this scene.  Music so pretty
     it is almost sad.  Tracy, in a nightgown, sits up in bed, tense,
     She throws off the covers and goes to the door.

     She stands looking into the living room where Mills is at a desk.

     Mills sorts through paperwork and photos with his back to Tracy.
     A basketball game is on the television, but he pays it no mind.
     He sits forward, obviously frustrated, drinks coffee.  He does
     not know Tracy is there.

     Tracy watches her husband, concerned.

     INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- NIGHT

     MUSIC CONTINUES.  Somerset has two books open.  He opens his
     notebook and brings a pen to bear.  Writes:

     SEVEN DEADLY SINS

     GLUTTONY     GREED     WRATH    LUST     PRIDE     ENVY    SLOTH

     He crosses out GLUTTONY and GREED.  Somerset picks up one book:
     DANTE'S PURGATORY.  Volume II of the DIVINE COMEDY.  Somerset
     opens it:

       -------------------------------------------------------------
      |                                     THE EARTHLY PARADISE    |
      |-------------------------------------------------------- /\  |
      |                                                        /  \ |
      |                               VII The Lustful         /____\|
      |                                                      /      |
      |                                VI The Gluttonous    /_______|
      |       7 TERRACES OF                                /        |
      |                                 V The Avaricious  /         |
      |                                   and Prodigal   /__________|
      |         PURGATION                               /           |
      |                                                /            |
      |                                               /             |
      |                             IV The Slothful  /______________|
      |                                             /               |
      |                                            /                |
      |                                           /                 |
      |                     III The Wrathful     /__________________|
      |                                         /                   |
      |                      II The Envious    /____________________|
      |                                       /                     |
      |                       I The Proud    /______________________|
      |                                     /                       |
      |                                    /                        |
      |                                   /       THE ISLAND        |
      |                                  /                          |
      |                                 /        OF PURGATORY       |
      |                                /                            |
      |_______________________________/_____________________________|


     UP ON THE BALCONY

     George and the guys finish another hand.  George looks down at
     Somerset, who is writing in the notebook.  George takes up the
     cards and starts shuffling.

                                  GEORGE
                           (down to Somerset)
                   You know, Smilely... you're really going to
                   miss us.

     George shuffles again, but they flip wrong and a few go off the
     table, over the balcony.

     DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR

     Somerset looks up at George, then looks around.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I just might.

     ABOVE

     The cards George dropped are fluttering, flipping downwards.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING

     The office is dark.  Somerset is at his desk, writing:

     DETECTIVE MILLS,  YOU MAY WANT TO LOOK AT THE FOLLOWING BOOKS,
     RELATING TO THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS:

     DANTE'S PURGATORY
     THE CANTERBURY TALES -- THE PARSON'S TALE
     DICTIONARY OF CATHOLICISM

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- LATER EVENING

     Somerset lays an envelope on top of the two boxes which have
     Detective Mills' name on them.  The envelope reads: MILLS.

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     WEDNESDAY

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- MORNING

     Somerset pushes the door open and notices "DETECTIVE MILLS"
     painted on the glass.  Rain falls outside.  Somerset goes to his
     desk, but stops.  All his belongings have been moved to a small,
     temporary desk in the corner.

     Somerset moves to open the top left drawer of the big desk.
     Empty.  He goes to the temporary desk and urgently searches
     through the boxes of papers and files...  finds what he was
     looking for.  He holds a small frame which fits in his palm.

     Inside the frame is a PHOTO of an attractive WOMAN.  Somerset
     pops the frame open, looks at the picture, then puts the picture
     in his wallet.

     Somerset sits at the temporary desk.  He begins to sort through
     his papers.  After a moment, he glances over his shoulder.  The
     envelope he left for Mills is gone.

     EXT.  UPSCALE CITY BLOCK -- MORNING

     It's raining.  At one high-rent office building, many business
     men and women are coming and going in a lunch-hour hurry.  Just
     to one side of the building, the CORONER'S WAGON drives out from
     the mouth of the parking garage into the rain.  People on the
     sidewalk have to stop to let it cross to the street.  At the same
     time, a large Lincoln Towncar turns off the street, heads into
     the bowels of the garage.

     EXT.  UPSCALE BUILDING, UNDERGROUND GARAGE -- MORNING

     Many police cars and news vans here, and police men and reporters
     and photographers everywhere.  Mills, looking haggard, finishes a
     conversation with a TALL COP by the service elevator.

                                  MILLS
                   ... good.  Do it.  I'm going back up.

     Tall Cop hurries away as Mills pushes repeatedly on the service
     elevator button.  The elevator doors open and Mills steps in.  As
     the door are shutting, a COMMOTION is HEARD.  Mills stops the
     door and looks out.

     Across the garage, the Towncar is pulling to a stop and reporters
     are rushing to it.  FLASHBULBS are FLASHING.

     MARTIN TALBOT, 47, impressive and well dressed, steps out of the
     car and faces the reporters as they start shouting questions.

     In the service elevator, Mills lets the doors slide shut.

     INT.  UPSCALE BUILDING, SERVICE AREA -- MORNING

     The service elevator opens to a dark physical plant room.  Mills
     exits the elevator and crosses past humming air-conditioning
     vents, dripping pipes and janitor's lockers.  To a door...

     INT.  UPSCALE BUILDING, OFFICE CORRIDOR -- MORNING

     Mills comes out the service area door into a bright, ritzy
     hallway.  This hall and the doors along it reek of money.  A few
     cops are standing around.  Ahead there's a police line, which
     Mills ducks under on his way to stately mahogany doors.

     INT.  LAW OFFICE -- MORNING

     A huge law office.  A television is on in one corner, showing the
     news.  Windows overlook the rain wet city.  Two FORENSICS dust
     for prints, whispering to each other when Mills enters.

                                  FORENSIC ONE
                           (to other forensic)
                   ... going to screw it up.  I swear... I've
                   seen...

     The other forensic clears his throat, getting back to work.
     Forensic One shuts up.  Mills notices this, weary.

                                  MILLS
                   How's it coming?

                                  FORENSIC ONE
                   Nothing yet.

     Mills watches them a moment, then turns his attention to another
     part of the office.  A leather chair sits in an open area.

     The chair and the carpet under it are covered in a goodly portion
     of brown, dried blood.

     There is a trail of dripped blood from the chair to a large desk.
     On a cleared off section of the desk, a two-armed, counter
     balance SCALE sits, also blood stained.  The desk has been
     dusted.  Behind the desk, GREED is written on the wall in blood,
     near a modern art painting.

     Mills stands staring at this area.  The TELEVISION is HEARD:

                                  ANCHOR (v.o.)
                           (from television)
                   ... going cut in live downtown right now,
                   where Defense Attorney Eli Gould was found
                   murdered in his office late last night.
                   District Attorney Martin Talbot is taking
                   questions from reporters...

     ON T.V., Talbot comes on screen, a powerful presence, with a gold
     tooth in the front of his mouth.  It's from down in the garage.

                                  A REPORTER (v.o.)
                           (from television)
                   ... a small conflict of interest here?  I
                   mean, your prosecutors have lost more than
                   a few very high profile cases to Mister
                   Gould and his defense team...

                                  TALBOT (v.o.)
                           (from television)
                   Now, that's ridiculous to the point of
                   almost being offensive.  There's no
                   conflict of interest whatsoever, and any
                   claim that there would be, or could be, is
                   irresponsible.

     Other reporters begin to shout questions, but Talbot's not done.

                                  TALBOT (v.o.)
                   Now, hold on... I want to address that.
                   I've just come from a meeting with law
                   enforcement officials, and they've assured
                   me they put their best people on this
                   thing.

     Mills turns to looks at Talbot on the screen.

                                  TALBOT (v.o.)
                   You just wait and see how quickly we get a
                   handle on it.  This will be the very
                   definition of swift justice.

     Mills walks to turn the t.v. off.

                                  MILLS
                           (quietly to t.v.)
                   Shut the fuck up.

     He turns and looks to see the forensics looking at him.  The
     forensics look away.

     Mills walks away from the t.v., to a picture frame on the floor.
     The frame has been placed specifically in the center of the room,
     facing the doors.

     It is a photo if a falsely pretty, middle-aged woman, smiling and
     wearing pearls.  On the glass of the frame, two circles have been
     drawn with blood around the woman's eyes.

     Mills sits on the floor, stares at the photo.

     INT.  MILLS' CAR -- MORNING

     Mills gets in and slams the door.  He is alone with the sound of
     the rain.  He wipes water from his face and looks at his tired
     eyes in the rear view mirror.  He leans over to the glove
     compartment and takes out two newly purchased paperbacks: The
     Canterbury Tales and Dante's Purgatory.

     Mills makes a face and opens Dante's Purgatory to a bookmark.  He
     rests the book on the steering wheel.  He reads.

     He bites his lip, leaning close to the words.

     He is really concentrating, mouths some of the words to himself.
     He finally shakes his head and closes the book, not understanding
     a word of it.  Pause.  He starts pounding the book against the
     steering wheel with all his might.

                                  MILLS
                   Fucking, Dante, goddamn, poetry-writing,
                   faggot motherfucker...

     Mills throws the book against the windshield, then puts his head
     back and closes his eyes, trying to calm.  A long moment.  Quiet.
     BANG, BANG, BANG -- there's a loud BANGING on the window and
     Mills looks up, startled...

     Tall Cop is at the window in rain gear.  Mills rolls it down.
     Tall Cop hands a wet paper bag through.

                                  MILLS
                   Good work, Officer.  Good work.

     Mills rolls the window up, rips the bag open.  Inside: Cliff
     Notes for Dante's Purgatory and for The Canterbury Tales.

                                  MILLS
                   Thank God.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

     It still rains outside.  Somerset sits at the big desk which is
     now Mills'.  He fills out form by hand as Mills enters with a ton
     of his own paperwork.  Somerset looks up.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (gathers his things)
                   Let me get out of your way.

     Mills sets his paperwork on the desk.  He is beat.  Somerset
     moves to the temporary desk.  They both sit and settle in,
     organizing, not looking at each other.

     Both attend to their work.  Here are two men, about five feet
     apart, each trying not to acknowledge the other's presence.
     Mills takes his Cliff Notes out, looks to see Somerset is
     occupied, and hides them in a desk drawer.

     Somerset finishes one form, flips it and looks at Mills.  Mills
     sorts through photos from the greed murder.  Somerset continues
     writing.  PHONE RINGS.  Both men look at it.  Phone rings again.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's a package deal.  You get the phone
                   with the office.

                                  MILLS
                           (picks up, into phone)
                   Detective Mills here.
                           (listens, lowers voice)
                   Honey... I asked you not to call me here.
                   I'll call you back...
                           (listens)
                   What?  Why?

     Mills is very confused.

                                  MILLS
                           (into phone)
                   Why?  Okay... okay, hold on.

     Mills clears his throat and holds out the phone to Somerset.

                                  MILLS
                   It's my wife.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What?

     Mills shrugs.  Somerset stands, takes the phone.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (into phone)
                   Hello?
                           (listens)
                   Yes, well... it's nice to speak to you.
                           (listens)
                   Well, I appreciate the thought... but...
                           (listens)
                   Then, I guess I'd be delighted.  Thank you
                   very much.  Yes... goodbye.

     Somerset hangs up, shakes his head.

                                  MILLS
                   Well?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'm invited to have a late supper at your
                   house.  And, I accept.

                                  MILLS
                   How's that?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Tonight.

     Mills is lost.  Somerset goes to sit back down.

                                  MILLS
                   I don't even know if I'm having dinner
                   there tonight.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM/KITCHENETTE -- NIGHT

     Food is cooking on the stove.  Tracy is in the living room area
     carefully setting the table with good silver and china.

     The door to the apartment is HEARD OPENING and CLOSING.  Mills
     and Somerset come down a short hallway.  Mills carries a brand
     new briefcase.

                                  TRACY
                   Hello, men.  You made it.

                                  MILLS
                   Hi, honey.

     Mills gives Tracy a kiss, then presents Somerset.

                                  MILLS
                   I'd like you to meet Somerset.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Hello.

     Somerset shakes Tracy's hand lightly.

                                  TRACY
                   It's nice to meet you.  My husband has told
                   me a lot about you... except your first
                   name.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Oh... um, William.

                                  TRACY
                   It's a nice name.  William, I'd like you to
                   meet David.
                           (to Mills)
                   David... William.

     Mills smiles and nods this off, heading across the room.

                                  MILLS
                   Great... I'm, uh, just going to put these
                   things away.

     Mills moves to the adjoining bedroom.  Somerset stands with his
     hands folded in front of him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It smells good.

                                  TRACY
                   What?  Oh, yes.  I mean, thank you.
                           (motions to the table)
                   Please, sit down.

     Somerset takes off his jacket.  Tracy goes to check on the food.

                                  TRACY
                   You can put that over on the couch.  You'll
                   have to excuse all the mess.  We're still
                   unpacking.

     Somerset notices something on Mills' desk.  It's a medal, in a
     small, clear case amongst the papers and pens.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I hear you and Mills were high school
                   sweethearts.

                                  TRACY
                   High school and college, yes.  Pretty
                   hokey, huh?  I knew on our first date this
                   was the man I was going to marry.  God...
                   he was the funniest man I'd ever met.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Really?

     Somerset has to think about that one for a second.  He picks the
     medal up: a medal for valor from the Police Department.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Well, it's rare these days... that kind of
                   commitment.

     He puts the medal down.  Tracy is looking at the gun strapped
     under Somerset's arm as Somerset starts to unstrap it.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (about the gun)
                   Don't worry.  I don't wear it at the dinner
                   table.

                                  TRACY
                   No matter how often I see guns, I still
                   can't get used to them.

     Somerset lays the gun with his jacket.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Same here.

     Tracy smiles.  Somerset goes to the table and transfers a small
     notebook from his breast pocket to his pants pocket.  A piece of
     paper falls to the floor, closer to Tracy.

                                  TRACY
                   Anyway... what girl wouldn't want the
                   captain of the football team as their
                   lifetime mate?  Here... you dropped
                   something...

     Tracy picks it up.  It is the pale, paper rose.  She looks at it
     as she hands it back to Somerset, who is self-conscious.

                                  TRACY
                   What is that?

     Somerset looks at the rose, then puts it away.

                                  SOMERSET
                   My future.

     Tracy tilts her head, looking at Somerset.

                                  TRACY
                   You have a strange way about you... I mean
                   interesting.  I'm sorry.  It's really none
                   of my business.  It's just nice to meet a
                   man who talks like that.
                           (goes back to stove)
                   If David saw that paper, he'd say you're a
                   fag.  That's how he is.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (smiles)
                   I guess I won't be showing it to him then.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT

     A record player on a moving box PLAYS QUIET MUSIC.  Tracy, Mills
     and Somerset are eating.  Mills has a beeper beside his plate and
     occasionally fingers it absently.

                                  TRACY
                   Why aren't you married, William?

                                  MILLS
                   Tracy... what the hell?

     Somerset pokes at the napkin, thinking.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I was close once.  It just didn't happen.

                                  TRACY
                   It surprises me.  It really does.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Any person who spends a significant amount
                   of time with me finds me... disagreeable.
                   Just ask your husband.

                                  MILLS
                   Very true.

     Mills grins, but he means it.

                                  TRACY
                           (to Somerset)
                   How long have you lived here?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Too long.
                           (drinks)
                   What do you think so far?

     Tracy glances immediately to Mills.

                                  MILLS
                   It takes time to settle in.

     Somerset can see it is a sore subject.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Well, you can get numb to it pretty quickly.
                   There are things in any city...

     A LOW RUMBLING is HEARD.  Plates on the table begin to clatter.

                                  MILLS
                   Subway train.

     The dishes clatter more.  Coffee cups clink against their
     saucers.  Tracy holds her coffee cup to stop it and smiles at
     Somerset to act like it's nothing, but she is clearly bothered.

                                  TRACY
                   It'll go away in a minute.

     They wait.  The rumbling grows louder, knocks something over in
     the sink.  Somerset continues eating, fiddles with his food.  The
     record player skips, then plays on.  The clattering dies down.
     Mills seems uncomfortable.

                                  MILLS
                   This real estate guy... this miserable
                   fuck, he brought us to see this place a few
                   times.  And, first I'm thinking he's good,
                   really efficient.  But then, I started
                   wondering, why does he keep hurrying us
                   along?  Why will he only show us this place
                   for like five minutes at a time?

     Mills laughs lamely.

                                  TRACY
                   We found out the first night.

     Somerset tries to stay straight, but he can't help laughing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   The soothing, relaxing, vibrating home.
                   Sorry...

     He laughs harder, covering his mouth.  Tracy and Mills laugh.

                                  MILLS
                   Oh, fuck.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT

     The record player plays another album.  Tracy brings over a pot
     of coffee and pours.  Mills and Somerset have beers.

                                  TRACY
                   I don't think I've ever met anyone who
                   doesn't have a television before.
                   That's... weird.

                                  MILLS
                   It's un-American is what it is.

                                  SOMERSET
                   All television does is teach children that
                   it's really cool to be stupid and eat candy
                   bars all day.

                                  MILLS
                   What about sports?

                                  SOMERSET
                   What about them?

     Tracy brings over a plate of cookies and puts it on the table.

                                  MILLS
                   You go to movies at least?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I read.  Remember reading?

                                  MILLS
                   I just have to say, I can't respect any man
                   who's never seen "Green Acres."

     Somerset gives a blank stare.  Tracy walks across the room.

                                  MILLS
                   You've never seen "The Odd Couple?"  This
                   is sick.  "The Honeymooners?!"

                                  SOMERSET
                   I vaguely recall a large, angry man, and
                   someone called Norton.

     Tracy turns the record player down further, then goes into the
     bedroom and shuts the door behind her.

     Somerset and Mills look a the closed door.  A long moment.  They
     look at each other, then sit for a time.  Somerset puts down his
     beer, sighs.  He looks around.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM

     The only sounds are from the city outside.  The living room table
     has been cleared and its surface is now covered with various
     forms, reports and 8" by 10" photographs.  Mills and Somerset are
     both standing.  Mills guides Somerset through the photos.

                                  MILLS
                   Our guy got into office, probably before
                   the building closed and security tightened
                   up.  Gould must have been working late.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'm certain.  He was the biggest defense
                   lawyer around.  Infamous, actually.

                                  MILLS
                   Well, his body was found Monday night,
                   okay?  But, get this... the office was
                   closed all day Monday.  Which means, as
                   long as the gluttony killing was done
                   before the weekend, our killer could've
                   gotten in here on Friday.  He could've
                   spent all day Saturday with Gould, and all
                   day Sunday.

     Mills picks up one photo and shows it to Somerset.  Long shot: it
     shows the greed murder scene.  Gould sits dead in the leather
     chair, near the desk where the counter-balance scale sits.

                                  MILLS
                   Gould was tied down, nude.  The killer left
                   his arms free and handed him a big, sharp
                   butcher's knife.  See... the scale here.

     Mills pulls another photo.  Close up: the two-armed scale.  In
     one suspended plate is a one pound weight.  In the other is a
     hunk of flesh.

                                  SOMERSET
                   A pound of flesh.

     Mills digs, comes up with a photocopy of a hand-scrawled note.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (reading note)
                   "One pound of flesh, no more no less.  No
                   cartilage, no bone, but only flesh.  This
                   task done... and he would go free."

     Mills takes out one photo showing the note pinned to the wall
     beside where "greed" is written in blood.

                                  MILLS
                   The leather chair was soaked through with
                   sweat.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (nods, grim)
                   All day Saturday, and all day Sunday.
                           (pause)
                   The murderer would want Gould to take his
                   time.  To have to sit there and decide.
                   Where do you make the first cut?  There's a
                   gun in your face... but, what part of your
                   body is expendable?

                                  MILLS
                   He cut along the side of his stomach.  The
                   love handle.

     Somerset's still studying the photos.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He must have left another puzzle piece.

                                  MILLS
                   Look, I appreciate being able to talk this
                   out, but, uh...

                                  SOMERSET
                   This is just to satisfy my curiosity.  I'm
                   still leaving town Saturday.

     Mills is very tired.  He rubs his eyes, then walks to take one
     more photo from his briefcase.  It is the photo of the framed
     picture of the falsely pretty woman with her eyes circled in
     blood.

                                  MILLS
                   Gould's wife.  She was away on business.
                   If this means she saw anything, I don't
                   know what.  We've questioned her at least
                   five times.

                                  SOMERSET
                   And, if it's a threat.

                                  MILLS
                   We put her in a safe house.

     Somerset nods.  He puts down the photos he's holding.  He begins
     spreading all the pictures out.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Look at these with fresh eyes.  Don't see
                   what the killer wants you to.  Don't let
                   guide you...

     While he speaks, Somerset keeps shifting the photos, for example:
     covering the corpse in one with the edge of another.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Even if the corpse is right there... it's
                   almost like looking through it.  Editing
                   out the initial shock.  Look at the room.

     In the photos, there's the scale.  The note on the wall.  Shelves
     of books.  The Modern Art painting.

     GREED written in blood.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He's preaching.

                                  MILLS
                   Punishing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   The sins were used in medieval sermons.
                   There were seven cardinal virtues, and then
                   seven deadly sins, created as a learning
                   tool, because they distract from true
                   worship.

                                  MILLS
                   Like in the Parson's Tale, and Dante.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Did you read them?

                                  MILLS
                   Yeah.  Parts of them.  Anyway, in
                   Purgatory, Dante and his buddy are climbing
                   up that big mountain... seeing all these
                   other guys who sinned...

                                  SOMERSET
                   Seven Terraces of Purgation.

                                  MILLS
                   Right.  But there, pride comes first, not
                   gluttony.  The sins are in a different
                   order.

                                  SOMERSET
                   For now, let's just consider the books as the
                   murderer's inspiration.
                   The books and sermons are about atonement
                   for sin.  And, these murders have been like
                   forced attrition.

                                  MILLS
                   Forced what?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Attrition.  When you regret your sins, but
                   not because you love God.

                                  MILLS
                   Like, because someone's holding a gun on
                   you.

     Mills runs his hands across his face, walks to the fridge to get
     beer.  Somerset keeps looking at photos and papers.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No fingerprints?

                                  MILLS
                   Nothing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Totally unrelated victims.

     Mills nods, drinking from a beer.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No witnesses of any kind?

                                  MILLS
                   None.  Which I don't understand.  He had to
                   get back out.

     Somerset sits in a chair, picks up the photo of the wife.  Runs
     his fingers over the eyes circled in blood.

                                  SOMERSET
                   In any major city, minding your own
                   business is a perfected science.  There's a
                   public crime prevention course offered at
                   the precinct house once a month.  The first
                   thing they teach is that you should never
                   cry "help."  Always scream "fire," because
                   people don't want to get caught up in
                   anything.  But a fire... that's an
                   evening's entertainment.  They come
                   running.

     Looking at the wife's photo.

                                  SOMERSET
                   This is the one thing.

                                  MILLS
                   I know.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (holds photo up)
                   What if it's not that she's seen
                   something?  What if she's supposed to see
                   something, but she just hasn't been given a
                   chance to see it yet?

                                  MILLS
                   Okay.  But, what?

     INT.  SAFE HOUSE -- NIGHT

     The room is like a hotel room.  Mills stands beside the woman
     from the picture, MRS. GOULD.  Mills shows her photos from the
     murder scene.  The photos have been covered in sections to hide
     the Mr. Gould's corpse.  Mrs. Gould is crying.  Somerset is on
     the other side of the room, holding more photos.

                                  MILLS
                   I'm sorry about this, Mrs. Gould.  I really
                   am.

                                  MRS GOULD
                   I... I don't understand.

     Mills helps her flip through the photos.  He isn't too keen to
     put her through this.

                                  MILLS
                   I need you to look at each one carefully...
                   very carefully.  Look for anything that
                   seems strange or out of place.  Anything at
                   all.

                                  MRS GOULD
                   I don't know why... why now?

                                  MILLS
                   Please, I need you to help me if we're
                   going to get who did this.

     Mrs. Gould sobs quietly, wipes her tears.

                                  MILLS
                   Anything... anything missing or different.

                                  MRS GOULD
                   I don't see anything.

                                  MILLS
                   Are you absolutely certain?

                                  MRS GOULD
                   I can't do this now... please.

     Mills looks to Somerset, looks at the photos Somerset holds.

                                  MILLS
                   Maybe we better wait.

     Somerset looks at the photos in his hand.  These show Mr. Gould's
     corpse in the chair, not covered in any way.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It should be now.  There may be something
                   we're not seeing.

                                  MRS GOULD
                   Wait.  Here...

                                  MILLS
                   What is it?

     Mrs. Gould points at the modern art painting on the wall in one
     photo.  The painting is just splattered paint, abstract.

                                  MRS GOULD
                   This painting...

                                  MILLS
                   What?

                                  MRS GOULD
                   Why is this painting hanging upside-down?

     Mills turns to look at Somerset.

     INT.  LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT

     Where the greed murder took place.  Somerset, wearing gloves,
     reaches to take the modern art painting off the wall.  Mills
     near, watching.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You're sure your men didn't move this?

                                  MILLS
                   Even if they did, those photos were taken
                   before forensics.

     Nothing on the wall behind the painting.  Blank space.

                                  MILLS
                   Nothing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's got to be.

     Somerset puts the painting down, resting it on its bottom edge.
     The painting is backed by a thick sheet of brown papers stapled
     into the wooden frame.  Somerset points to where the wire's eye
     screws used to be screwed into the frame, and to where it has
     been rescrewed.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He changed the wire to rehang it.

     Somerset takes out his switchblade.  Mills is surprised.

                                  MILLS
                   What the fuck is that?

                                  SOMERSET
                   A switchblade.

     Somerset cuts along the edge of the brown paper to get to the
     hollow space between it and the back of the canvas.  He cuts out
     the entire sheet.  Mills helps pull it away.  Nothing.  Empty.
     Mills looks at both sides of the paper, then tosses it away.

                                  MILLS
                   Nothing.  Damn it!

     Somerset lays the painting face up on the floor.  He pokes his
     finger on the painted surface.  He brings the flat of his blade
     against the painting, tries to peel some of the paint.

                                  MILLS
                   The killer didn't paint the fucking thing.
                   Give it up.

     Somerset pushes the painting away, frustrated.

                                  SOMERSET
                   There must be something.

                                  MILLS
                   We're screwed.  He's fucking with us.

     Somerset backs away from the wall, staring at the space where the
     painting hung.  There is only a nail.  He turns, looking around
     the office, then crosses.

     Mills puts his hands to his temple, furious, picks up a lamp and
     throws it to the floor, venting.

                                  MILLS
                   Motherfucker!

     Across the room, Somerset falls to his knees and pulls open a
     forensics kit.  He takes out a fingerprint brush, examining the
     bristles.  Mills sees this.

                                  MILLS
                   What?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Bear with me.

     Somerset goes back to the wall where the painting was.  He pulls
     over a chair, gets on it and starts brushing near the nail.

                                  MILLS
                   Oh, yeah, sure.  You got to be kidding?!

                                  SOMERSET
                   Just wait!

     Somerset brushes with a few wider strokes.  He leans close,
     studies the powder residue.  Leans closer still.  Pause.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Call the print lab.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

     Tracy is asleep, dressed, with the lights still on.  She stirs,
     then awakens and sits up slowly.  She squints from the light,
     sweaty and uncomfortable.  She looks around and listens.  All she
     hears is traffic.

     EXT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

     FROM OUTSIDE, looking into the apartment, we see Tracy come in
     from the bedroom.  She sees Mills and Somerset are gone.  She
     comes to open a window, then goes to the kitchen area.

     We're still LOOKING IN at her as she starts the dishes in the
     sink.  The RUMBLING of the SUBWAY TRAIN is HEARD starting.  The
     room begins to rattle, as before.

     Tracy looks out into the living room, ill at ease.

     INT.  LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT

     The male forensic from the gluttony murder scene is here.  He has
     a magnifying glass which he's using to study a very clear
     fingerprint in black powder on the wall.

                                  MALE FORENSIC
                   Oh, man...

                                  MILLS (o.s.)
                   Talk to me.

     The male forensic bites his lip, still studying.

     Mills and Somerset are watching the forensic who works O.S.

                                  MILLS
                           (to Somerset)
                   Just, honestly... have you ever seen
                   anything like this... been involved in
                   anything like this?

                                  SOMERSET
                   No.

                                  MALE FORENSIC (o.s.)
                   Well, I can tell you, boys...

     The forensic steps down from a stool.  Behind him, where the
     painting once was, are fingerprints, clear and distinct.  The
     prints have been left, one after the other, to form letters which
     form words:  HELP ME.

                                  MALE FORENSIC
                   ... just by looking at the shape of the
                   underloop on these, they are not the
                   victim's fingerprints.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, PRINT LAB -- NIGHT

     Dark.  A TECHNICIAN sits before an old computer.  The computer's
     green screen shows enlarged fingerprint patterns being aligned,
     compares, and then rejected: whir - click - whir - click - whir -
     click.  Mills and Somerset watch, bathed in a green glow.

                                  MILLS
                   He just may be nuts enough.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It doesn't fit.  He doesn't want us to help
                   him stop.

                                  MILLS
                   Who the hell knows?  There's plenty of
                   freaks out there doing dirty deeds they
                   don't want to do.  You know... little
                   voices tell them bad things.

     Somerset doesn't buy it.  The technician adjusts a knob, then
     turns to the detectives.

                                  TECHNICIAN
                   I've seen this baby take as long as three
                   days to make a match, so you guys can go
                   cross your fingers somewhere else.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- NIGHT

     Somerset and Mills come out from the Print Lab.  A janitor is
     mopping the hall.  The computer is HEARD WHIRing AND CLICKing
     onwards.  Somerset sits with a groan on a couch outside the lab
     door.  Mills flops beside him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You meant what you said to Mrs. Gould,
                   didn't you?  About catching this guy.  You
                   really want to believe that, don't you?

                                  MILLS
                   And you don't?

                                  SOMERSET
                           (laughs, very tired)
                   I wish I still thought like you.

                                  MILLS
                   Then, you tell me what you think we're
                   doing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   All we do is pick up the pieces.  We take
                   all the evidence, and all the pictures and
                   samples.  We write everything down and note
                   what time things happened...

                                  MILLS
                   Oh, that's all.

                                  SOMERSET
                   We put it in a nice neat pile and file it
                   away, on the slim chance it's ever needed
                   in a courtroom.
                           (pause)
                   It's like collecting diamonds on a desert
                   island.  You keep them just in case you
                   ever get rescued, but it's a pretty big
                   ocean out there.

                                  MILLS
                   Bullshit.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'm, sorry, but even the most promising
                   clues usually lead only to other clues.
                   I've seen so many corpses rolled away...
                   unrevenged.

                                  MILLS
                   I've seen the same.  I'm not the country
                   hick you seem to think I am.

                                  SOMERSET
                   In this city, if all the skeletons came out
                   of all the closets... if ever hidden body
                   were to suddenly rise again, there'd be no
                   more room for the living.

     Somerset slumps back, takes out a cigarette and lights it.

                                  MILLS
                   Don't tell me you didn't get that rush
                   tonight... that adrenalin, like we were
                   getting somewhere.

     Mills sits back on the couch, closes his eyes.

                                  MILLS
                   And, don't try to tell me it was because
                   you found something that would play well in
                   a courtroom.

     Somerset looks at Mills, who crosses his arms to sleep.  Somerset
     puffs the cigarette.

     The computer is heard: whir - click - whir - click...

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     THURSDAY

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING

     Mills and Somerset are fast asleep on the couch, leaning against
     each other.  People pass and look at them strangely.  A man steps
     in front of the couch.  He reaches with both hands to slap their
     faces simultaneously.

     It's the captain leaning over them.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Wake up, Glimmer Twins.  We have a winner.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, READY ROOM -- EARLY MORNING

     A windowless classroom.  The captain stands at a podium in front
     with a white screen at his side.  A mug-shot of a man, VICTOR,
     25, is projected onto the screen from a slide projector.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   He goes by the name Victor, as many of you
                   know, and his prints were found on scene by
                   Detectives Mills and Somerset.

     FIVE hardened POLICE OFFICERS, four men and one woman, sit in
     chairs facing the captain.  The all wear bullet-proof vests with
     the word POLICE spray-painted across them.

     Somerset and Mills sit in back, drinking coffee, still asleep.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Now, this guy's a real beauty.  He has a
                   long, long history of serious mental
                   illness.  According the head-shrinkers, it
                   seems his parents gave him a very strict,
                   Southern Baptist upbringing, but somewhere
                   along the line he dropped his marbles.

     Two of the cops in the front row are talking.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Hey, you two can shut-up now!

     The two cops separate like huge, embarassed school children.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Thank you, fuckheads.  Now, Victor spent a
                   couple of months in prison for the
                   attempted rape of an eight year old boy,
                   but his lawyer made sure he didn't stay
                   long.  Before that, he dabbled in drugs,
                   armed robbery and assault.
                   We've been doing our best to keep an eye on
                   him, but he's been out of circulation for a
                   while.

                                  FEMALE COP
                   If he disappeared, what do you want from
                   us?

                                  CAPTAIN
                   His last place of residence is still in his
                   name.  A search warrant is being pushed
                   through the courts as we speak.

     A red-headed cop, CALIFORNIA, raises his hand.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   So, have the housing cops walk up and ring
                   the doorbell.

     The cops laugh.  The captain is clenching his jaw, angry.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Listen, California.  When you go in, if
                   Victor isn't home, one of his buddies might
                   be house-sitting, so you go in guns first.
                   Besides using, Victor deals, and we know
                   what kind of crowd he runs with.

     There is some chatter amongst the cops.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   This is what the D.A. has a hard-on for
                   right now, Ladies and Germs, so we do not
                   question why.

     Mills leans to Somerset while the captain continues the briefing.
     They whisper.

                                  MILLS
                   Does this make it with you?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Doesn't seem like our man, does it?

                                  MILLS
                   You tell me.  I'm new in town.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He doesn't have the desire somehow.  Our
                   killer seems to have more purpose.  More
                   purpose than Victor could ever conceive of.

                                  MILLS
                   The fingerprints.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Yes.  They were there... so, it must be.

                                  MILLS
                   We'll tag along.

     Somerset wants no part of that.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Why would we?

                                  MILLS
                           (smiles)
                   Satisfy our curiosity?

     INT.  MILLS' CAR -- MORNING

     Mills drives, follows a police van.  Somerset rides shotgun.
     Mills seems pumped and ready.  Somerset takes two Rolaids off a
     fresh roll and chews them.

                                  MILLS
                   You ever take one?

     Somerset takes out his gun, opens it to check the load.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Never in my twenty-four years, knock on
                   wood.  I've only ever taken my gun out five
                   times with the actual intention of using
                   it.  Never fired it though.  Not once.
                           (closes his gun)
                   You?

                                  MILLS
                   Never took a bullet.  I pulled my gun once.
                   fired it once.

                                  SOMERSET
                   And?

                                  MILLS
                   It was my first one of these.  We were a
                   secondary unit, and I was pretty shaky
                   going in.  I was still considered a rookie.

     Mills takes a corner, tires screeching.

                                  MILLS
                   We busted the door, looking for this
                   junkie, right?  The geek just opened fire.
                   Another cop was hit in the arm and he went
                   flying... like in slow motion.
                           (pause)
                   I remember riding in the ambulance.  His
                   arm was like Jello.  A piece of meat.  He
                   bled to death right there.

     A pause.

                                  SOMERSET
                   How did the fire fight end?

                                  MILLS
                   I got him.  I got the son-of-a-bitch.
                   See, I was doing really good up till then.
                   Lots of street busts.  I've always had this
                   weird luck... everything always went my
                   way, but this was wild.
                           (pause)
                   I got him with one shot... right between
                   the eyes.  Next thing I know, the mayor's
                   pinning a medal on me.  Picture in the
                   paper, whole nine yards.

     Somerset unrolls the window, feels the air across his face.

                                  SOMERSET
                   How was it?

                                  MILLS
                   I expected it to be bad, you know.  I took
                   a human life... but I slept like a baby
                   that night.  I never gave it a second
                   thought.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I think Hemingway wrote somewhere... I
                   can't remember where, but he wrote that in
                   order to live in a place like this, you
                   have to have the ability to kill.  I think
                   he meant you truly must be able to do it,
                   not just faking it, too survive.

                                  MILLS
                   Sounds like he knew what he was talking
                   about.

     INT.  SLUM BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- MORNING

     The five cops from the briefing, fully geared up and ready,
     rifles and handguns out, move quickly up the stairs in single
     file.  Somerset and Mills follow, guns out.  Somerset is sweating
     bullets.  Mills is wild eyed, juiced.

     Crack viles and hypodermic needles on the stairs crunch under the
     cops' heavy boots.

     INT.  SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING

     The cops enter the dank hall.  The move cautiously.  A man is
     lying on the floor, looking up, helpless, with dead eyes.

     A door opens and a woman peeks out.  The female cop points her
     gun and the door slams.  California, leading the group, steps up
     to apartment 303.  He has a search warrant scotch-taped to the
     front of his bullet-proof vest.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                           (to black cop)
                   This is it.  Give it up.

     The black cop hoists a heavy battering ram to California.  The
     other cops get on both sides of the door.  Somerset and Mills
     hang back a few feet, watching their backs.

                                  BLACK COP
                           (points to Mills)
                   Cops go before Dicks.

     Many people are sticking their heads out of doors in the hall.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Police!  Open the door!!

     California brings the ram forward with a splintering THUD -- once
     -- twice -- the door flies open.  The cops storm in.

     INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING

     The apartment is incredibly dusty.  The cops charge down the
     short hall into this room where a bed sits against the far wall.
     California moves up to the bed.  Someone lies under the sheets.
     Three other cops move, all training their weapon on the bed.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Good morning, sweetheart!

     A blond cop goes into another room.  California moves closer to
     the bed, gun up.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Get up, now, motherfucker!  NOW!

     INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, ADJOINING ROOM -- MORNING

     The blond cop enters, gun trained, looks around in confusion.

     The room's tables, chairs and floor are covered with hundreds of
     colorful, plastic air fresheners.

     INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING

     Mills and Somerset enter.  Somerset looks at the cops around the
     bed, then looks at a nearby wall.  His mouth drops in horror.  On
     the wall, written in excrement: SLOTH.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Jesus...

     California kicks the bed, enraged.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   I said get up, Sleepyhead!

     He pulls the sheets off the bed and reveals the shriveled,
     sore-covered form of a man who is blindfolded and tied to the bed
     with a thin wire which has been wrapped time and time again
     around the mattress and bed frame.  Tubes runs out from a stained
     loincloth around the man's waist and snake under the bed.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Fuck me!

     Mills pushes past the other cops.

                                  MILLS
                   Holy shit.

     The cops recoil from the stench.  Somerset steps up, putting his
     gun away.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Victor?

                                  BLACK COP
                   What the hell... ?

                                  CALIFORNIA
                           (to Somerset)
                   Check this out, Dick...

     California points with his gun to the end of the man's right arm.
     The hand is gone, severed at the wrist long ago.

                                  MILLS
                   It is Victor.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (points to a cop)
                   Call an ambulance.

     The blond cop enters from the other room.

                                  BLOND COP
                   What the fuck is this?

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Somebody call a hearse, more like.

     The female cop has gone to one wall where a sheet is pinned up.
     She pulls the sheet down.  Pinned behind the sheet are fifty-two
     Polaroid pictures; all pictures of Victor tied to the bed, with a
     date written at the bottom of each picture.  It is a visual
     history of Victor's physical decay.

                                  BLOND COP
                   What is going on?

     Mills sees the female cop looking at the pictures.

                                  MILLS
                   Hey, California, get your people out.

     Somerset takes out rubber gloves and puts them on.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   You heard him.  Hit the hall, and don't
                   touch anything.

     Somerset replaces the sheet over Victor, but not over his head.

     The cops file out and Mills goes to examine the pictures.
     California stays by the bed with Somerset.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   It looks like he's some kind of friggin'
                   sculpture or something.

     Somerset places his finger along Victor's throat.

                                  MILLS
                   Somerset, you... you better look here.

     Mills looks at the photos in awe.  Somerset joins him.

                                  MILLS
                   All pictures of Victor tied to the bed.
                           (crouches, points)
                   The last one is dated three days ago.

     Somerset looks at the first photo.  In it, Victor is bound and
     gagged, but he is healthy.

                                  SOMERSET
                   The first one... it's dated one year ago.
                   To the day.

     Somerset wipes his pale face.

     Californian stands by the corpse, behind Somerset and Mills.  He
     lifts the sheet on the bed to look under it.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Mother...

     Mills kneels and lifts the sheet which had covered the pictures
     off the floor.  There is an open shoebox underneath.

                                  MILLS
                   What...?

     On the side of the box: TO THE DETECTIVES, FROM ME.

     California leans close to Victor's gaunt, blindfolded face,
     examining with morbid curiosity.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   You got what you deserved, Victor.

     Somerset leans down beside Mills.  Mills looks through the
     shoebox.  Inside are plastic, zip-lock bags.

     One contains small clumps of hair.  One contains a yellow
     liquid...

                                  MILLS
                           (looking at bags)
                   A urine sample, hair sample... stool
                   sample.  Finger nails...
                           (looks to Somerset)
                   He laughing at us.

     California is still close to Victor's face, when suddenly
     Victor's lips twist open and Victor lets out a loud, guttural
     bark.

     California jerks back, shouting in fear, falling over a chair to
     to the floor.

     Mills and Somerset reel.  They see California on the ground,
     scared out of his mind, pointing.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   He's alive!

     Somerset and Mills look towards the bed.

     Victor's lips move feebly as he lets out a sick, gurgling moan.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   He's still alive!!

     EXT.  SLUM APARTMENT BUILDING -- MORNING

     A crowd has gathered at the entrance.  Mills' car, the police van
     and two ambulances are parked on the sidewalk.

     INT.  SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING

     The cops are in the hall holding neighbors at bay.

     INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING

     Three ambulance attendants are at the bed, working on Victor.
     One attendant uses wire cutters to clip Victor's bonds.

     INT.  SLUM STAIRWELL -- MORNING

     Mills and Somerset are standing in the middle of one flight of
     stairs.  Both are highly agitated.

                                  SOMERSET
                   The way this has gone till now, I wouldn't
                   have thought it was possible, but we may
                   have underestimated this guy.

                                  MILLS
                   I want him bad.  I don't just want to catch
                   him anymore.  I want to hurt him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Listen to me.  He's all about playing
                   games.

                                  MILLS
                   No kidding!  No fucking kidding!

                                  SOMERSET
                   We have to divorce ourselves from emotions
                   here.  No matter how hard it is, we have to
                   stay focused on the details.

                                  MILLS
                   I don't know about you, but I feed off my
                   emotions.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He'll string us along all the way if we're
                   not careful.

     Mills is looking at the floor, still burning.  Somerset grabs him
     by the jacket.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Are you listening to me?

     Mills pushes Somerset's hand off.

                                  MILLS
                   I hear you.

     There is a sudden, brilliant FLASH OF LIGHT and the SOUND of a
     CAMERA ADVANCING.  Mills and Somerset look.

     Down the stairs, a REPORTER has his camera up, pointed at them.

                                  REPORTER
                   Say cheese.

     He take another picture, flashbulb flashing.

     Mills goes down the stairs, grabs the reporter, a balding, almost
     silly looking man with thick glasses and wrinkled clothing.

                                  MILLS
                   What the fuck are you doing here?

     The reporter squirms, holds up a laminated press pass on a cord
     around his neck.

                                  REPORTER
                   I have a right, Officer.  I...

     Mills shoves him, and the reporter stumbles a few steps, then
     falls to the landing below with a thud.

                                  MILLS
                   That doesn't mean anything!  This is a
                   closed crime scene!

     Somerset comes to pull Mills back.  The shaken reporter stands
     uneasily.

                                  REPORTER
                   You can't do this!  You can't...

                                  MILLS
                   Get the fuck out of here!

     The reporter scrambles down the nest flight, out of sight.

                                  REPORTER (o.s.)
                   The public has a right to know!

     Somerset yanks Mills back harder, till Mills sits on the stairs.

                                  MILLS
                   How do those cockroaches get here so quick?

                                  SOMERSET
                   They pay cops for the inside scoop, and
                   they pay well.

                                  MILLS
                           (calming)
                   Sorry about that... I just...

                                  SOMERSET
                           (sarcastic)
                   Oh, it's alright.

     Somerset starts back up the stairs.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's always impressive to see a man feeding
                   off his emotions.

     INT.  HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY

     Somerset and Mills are with DOCTOR BEARDSLEY.  Victor lies inside
     an oxygen tent with tubes running into him.  The room is dim.

                                  DOCTOR
                   A year of immobility seems about right,
                   judging by the deterioration of the muscles
                   and the spine.  Blood tests show a whole
                   smorgasbord of drugs in his systems; from
                   crack to heroin... even an antibiotic which
                   must have been administered to keep the bed
                   sores from infecting.

     Mills looks into the oxygen tent.

                                  MILLS
                   He hasn't said anything, or tried to
                   express himself in any way?

                                  DOCTOR
                   Even if his brain were not mush, which it
                   is... he chewed off his own tongue long
                   ago.

     Mills winces, moves away from the bed.

                                  SOMERSET
                   There's no way he'll survive?

                                  DOCTOR
                   Detective, he'd die right how of shock if
                   you were to shine a flashlight in his eyes.

     Silence for a moment, then the doctor lets out a chuckle.

                                  DOCTOR
                   It's funny to think... he's experienced
                   about as much pain and suffering as anyone
                   I've encountered... give or take... and he
                   still has hell to look forward to.

     He chuckles again, engrossed in some information on a clipboard.
     Mills looks to Somerset like, "this guy's nuts."

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

     A blackboard is nailed to the wall.  Written in chalk:

     1 gluttony (x)    5 wrath
     2 greed (x)       6 pride
     3 sloth (x)       7 lust
     4 envy

     Somerset and Mills are at their paperwork covered desks.

                                  SOMERSET
                           ((reading one sheet)
                   Victor's landlord says an envelope of cash
                   was in the office mailbox each month.  He
                   says, quote, "I never heard a single
                   complaint from the tenant in apartment
                   three-o-one, and nobody ever complained
                   about him.  He's the best tenant I've ever
                   had.

                                  MILLS
                   A landlord's dream tenant: a paralyzed man
                   with no tongue.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Who pays the rent on time.

     Somerset turns to the typewriter, types.  Mills fills out a form
     by hand.  He make an error and tries to erase, but the paper
     rips.  He curses, crumples the paper and throws it.

                                  MILLS
                   I'm sick of sitting around, waiting for him
                   to kill again.

                                  SOMERSET
                   This is the job.  It's not an Easter egg
                   hunt.

                                  MILLS
                   There must be something in this pile of
                   garbage we can follow.  I mean, Christ...
                   do we have to let this lunatic make all the
                   moves.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's too dismissive to call him a lunatic.
                   We can't make that mistake.

                                  MILLS
                   Oh, blah, blah, blah.  The guy's insane.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's a fine line between insane and
                   inspired.

                                  MILLS
                   Hey, Freud, what brand of bullshit are you
                   shoveling, huh?  Right now he's probably
                   dancing around his room in a pair of his
                   mommy's panties, singing show tunes and
                   rubbing himself with peanut butter...

                                  SOMERSET
                    No.

                                  MILLS
                   Sooner or later his luck's going to run
                   out.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No.  He's not depending on luck.  You've
                   seen that.  We walked into that apartment
                   exactly one year after he first tied Victor
                   to the bed, to the day.  To the day!
                   Because he wanted us to.

                                  MILLS
                   We don't know for sure...

                                  SOMERSET
                   Yes we do.  Here...

     Somerset picks up the photocopy of the first note.

                                  SOMERSET
                   This quote... his first words to us.  I
                   looked it up.  It's from Milton's Paradise
                   Lost.  "Long is the way, and hard, that out
                   of hell leads up to light... "

                                  MILLS
                   And so what?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Well, he's been right so far, hasn't he?

                                  MILLS
                   Just because the bastard has a library
                   card, it doesn't make him Einstein.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Just, realize... this is not some common
                   lunatic.  The type of intestinal fortitude
                   it must take... to keep a man bound for a
                   full year.  To connect tubes to his
                   genitals.  To sever his hand and use it to
                   plant fingerprints.  He's methodical and
                   exacting, and worst of all, he's patient.

                                  MILLS
                   What does all that matter anyway?  It's not
                   our job to figure him out, is it?  All we
                   have to do is catching him.

     Something clicks for Somerset.  He looks away, thinking.

     Mills watches him.

                                  MILLS
                   What?

     Somerset sits.  Ponders, staring off into space.

                                  MILLS
                   What is it?

     Somerset stands back up, takes money out of his pockets.

                                  SOMERSET
                   How much money do you have?

                                  MILLS
                   I don't know... like fifty.

     Somerset picks up the phone and dials, still sifting through his
     own money.  Mills doesn't know what's going on.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to Mills)
                   I propose a field trip.

     INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY -- DAY

     Somerset walks through the busy main library, goes to a group of
     computer terminals.  Mills follows, wound up.  Somerset sits at
     one computer and works the keyboard, hunt-and-peck.

                                  MILLS
                   Somerset... what the fuck?

     Several people turn to shush him.  Somerset takes out a notepad.

                                  SOMERSET
                   At the top of the list, we'll put
                   Purgatory, Canterbury Tales... anything
                   relating to the seven deadly sins.  Now,
                   what the killer might research.  What would
                   he need to study to do the things he's
                   done?  What are his other interests?  For
                   example...

     INSERT -- COMPUTER SCREEN

     Somerset types.  On the screen:    SEARCH: JACK THE RIPPER.

     EXT.  HOT DOG WORLD -- DAY

     The restaurant's sign reads: HOT DOG WORLD, HOME OF THE WORLD'S
     BIGGEST DOGS.  A MAN is trying to give out paper advertisements.
     People walk out of their way to avoid him.

                                  MAN
                           (to people)
                   Take one, you stupid fucks!  Here... take
                   one!  It's a fucking coupon!  Take it!

     INT.  HOT DOG WORLD -- DAY

     Mills and Somerset are in a booth, both on the same seat on the
     same side of the table.  They look over their list of books.
     Mills goes to eat a hot dog, but Somerset stops him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   They had about fifty health violations
                   during the last inspection.

     Mills throws the dog down, looks at his watch.

                                  MILLS
                   Could you at least sit across from me?  I
                   don't want people to thing we're dating.

     Somerset watches a GREASY MAN, wearing a black suit, enter.  The
     man's hair is slicked back.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Give me your money.

     Mills hands his money to Somerset.

                                  MILLS
                   I'm handing you this, and for some strange
                   reason, I have the idea I should know what
                   the fuck we're doing.

     Somerset folds the money with his own into the list of books.  He
     holds the list in his lap, under the table.  Greasy Man comes to
     sit at the table.

                                  GREASY MAN
                   Hey, Somerset.  How are you?  I didn't know
                   this was going to be a menage-a-trois.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's not a problem.

                                  GREASY MAN
                   Only for you do I do this.  Big risk
                   here... so I figure we'll be even-up.  All
                   fair and square.

     Greasy Man has his hands under the table.  he gets up to leave
     with his hand in his pocket.  He picks up Mills' dog.

                                  GREASY MAN
                   About an hour.

     Greasy Man leaves, eating the hot dog.

                                  MILLS
                   Well, that was money well spent.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Let's go.

     INT.  PIZZA PARLOR -- DAY

     Mills and Somerset sit with a pizza before them.

                                  SOMERSET
                   By telling you this, I'm trusting you more
                   than I trust most people.

                                  MILLS
                   It's be best if you got to the point, cause
                   I'm about ready to punch you in the face.

     Somerset leans closer to Mills, speaks quietly.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's probably nothing, but even if it is,
                   it's no skin off our teeth.  The man at Hot
                   Dog World is a friend, in the Bureau.

                                  MILLS
                   Him?

                                  SOMERSET
                   For a long time, the F.B.I.'s been hooked
                   into the library system, keeping accurate
                   records.

                                  MILLS
                   What?  Assessing fines?

                                  SOMERSET
                   They monitor reading habits.  Not every
                   book, but certain ones are flagged.  Books
                   about... let's say, how to build a nuclear
                   bomb, or maybe Mein Kampf.  Whoever takes
                   out a flagged book has their library
                   records fed to the F.B.I. from then on.

                                  MILLS
                   You got to be kidding.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Flagged books cover every topic the Bureau
                   deems questionable... communism to violent
                   crime.

                                  MILLS
                   How is this legal?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Legal... illegal.  These terms don't apply.
                   I don't applaud it.

     Somerset takes a bite of pizza.

                                  SOMERSET
                   They can't use the information directly,
                   but it's a useful guide.  It might sound
                   silly, but you can't get a library card
                   without i.d. and a current phone bill.

     Mills is starting to warm to it.

                                  MILLS
                   So they ran our list.

                                  SOMERSET
                   If you want to know who's been reading
                   Paradise Lost, Purgatory, and say... The
                   Life and Time of Charlie Manson, the
                   Bureau's computer will tell you.  It might
                   give us a name.

                                  MILLS
                   Yeah.  Some college student who's taking
                   English 101 and just happens to be writing
                   a paper on Twentieth Century Crime.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Yeah, well... at least we're out of the
                   office.  We've got pizza.

                                  MILLS
                   How do you know all about this?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I don't.  Neither do you.

     Somerset looks up.  Greasy Man is entering the pizza parlor.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

     The car is parked with Somerset at the wheel and Mills beside.
     They're looking through pages of connected computer paper.

                                  MILLS
                   This is a waste of time.

                                  SOMERSET
                   We're focusing.

                                  MILLS
                   I know, I know... focusing on one little
                   thing.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (reading aloud)
                   The Divine Comedy.  A History of
                   Catholicism.  A book called Murderers and
                   Madmen.

     He hands the sheets to Mills.  Mills looks them over.

                                  MILLS
                           (reading)
                   Modern Homicide Investigation.  In Cold
                   Blood.  Of Human Bondage.  Human Bondage?

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's not what you think it is.

                                  MILLS
                           (reads)
                   The Marquis de Sade and Origins of Sadism.

                                  SOMERSET
                   That is.

                                  MILLS
                           (reads)
                   The Writings of Saint Thomas Aqu...
                   Aquin...

                                  SOMERSET
                   Saint Thomas Aquinas.
                           (starts the car)
                   He wrote about the seven deadly sins.

     INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL/HALLWAY -- DAY

     Somerset and Mills walk up the stairs and turn a corner into this
     long hall.  Somerset is looking at the computer sheets.

                                  MILLS
                   You're sure you're reading that right?
                   John Doe?

                                  SOMERSET
                   That's what it says.  Jonathan Doe.

                                  MILLS
                   This is stupid.  It'd be just too easy.

                                  SOMERSET
                   We'll take a look at him.  Talk to him.

                                  MILLS
                   Sure.  Uh, excuse me... are you by any
                   chance a serial killer?  Oh, you are?
                   Well, come with us then, if it's okay.

     They reach a door, apartment 6A.  Somerset knocks.

                                  MILLS
                   What are you going to say?

                                  SOMERSET
                   You do the talking.  Put that old silver
                   tongue of yours to work.

                                  MILLS
                   Who told you about my silver tongue?  You
                   been talking to my wife?

     Mills knocks on the door, hard.

                                  MILLS
                   This is really lame.

     A CREAK is HEARD O.S.  Somerset turns to look towards it...

     A male figure, JOHN DOE, is standing at the stairwell, wearing a
     hat and standing in shadow, looking towards them.  Stark still.

     Somerset furrows his brow.

     The John Doe reaches into his coat, lifts his arm, pointing...

                                  SOMERSET
                   Mills... !

     BLAM -- GUNFIRE SOUNDS, deafening, as a bullet slams into door
     6A, just missing Somerset as he and Mills hit the floor.

     John Doe fires again...

     The bullet blows a huge hole in the wall, throwing plaster.  A
     third bullet follows, just above Mills and Somerset, and John Doe
     is heard running back down the stairs.

     The gunfire's still echoing, ringing, as Mills gets up and
     unholsters his gun.

                                  MILLS
                   Jesus Christ...

     Mills scrambles down the stairwell...

     IN THE STARWELL

     Mills bounds down stairs, turns a corner and leaps down another
     flight.  He halts on the landing, listening.  John Doe can be
     HEARD still RUNNING, below.

     IN THE HALL ABOVE

     Somerset rolls and takes out his gun.  He stands, dazed.

                                  MILLS (o.s.)
                           (from in stairwell)
                   What kind of gun was it?

     IN THE STAIRWELL

     Somerset comes into the stairwell.

                                  MILLS (o.s.)
                           (from below)
                   Damn it, Somerset... what kind of gun?!
                   How many bullets?

     BELOW, IN THE STAIRWELL

     Mills hurries down more stairs.

                                  SOMERSET (o.s.)
                           (from above)
                   I don't know.  Might've been a revolver.

     Voices echo.  Mills loses his footing, falls...

     Mills hits the next landing hard, dropping his gun.

                                  MILLS
                   Fuck!

     Mills gets back up and picks up his gun and keeps going.

     ABOVE IN THE STAIRWELL

                        the stairs, breathing hard.

                                  MILLS (o.s.)
                           (from below)
                   What's he look like?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Brown hat.  Tan raincoat... like a... like
                   a trench coat.

     BELOW IN THE STAIRWELL

                      ready, moves to peer over the railing, down into
                      stairwell's center...

                        in shadow, aiming his gun straight up...

                       s SHOT is FIRED from below and the bullet is

     ABOVE

                      Somerset splinters into a million pieces, sends
     Somerset ducking for cover.

                    far below -- the bullet is HEARD RICOCHETING

     BELOW

                        waiting as the gunshot echoes.

                                  MILLS
                           (to himself)
                   Five... that's five...

                     continues down the stairs.

     INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, LOWER HALLWAY -- DAY

                      stairs and into a hallway, falling to one knee,
                      ing his gun one direction -- empty hallway.

                         direction, gun hand shaking, catches a
     glimpse of John Doe just as he disappears around a corner far
                     Mills gets up, looking back to the number 2 by
                       ooks, shouting back towards the stairwell...

                                  MILLS
                   Second floor!  Second floor!

                     FOLLOW him, tearing ass...



                       rn, full speed ahead, bringing his gun up...

                John Doe's running...

     Mills takes aim...

     Ahead, between John Doe and Mills, a tenant in t-shirt and
     underwear comes out an apartment, looking towards John Doe,
     blocking the line of fire...

                                  MILLS
                   Get down!  Move... !

     The tenant turns to Mills, confused.  Mills pushes angrily
     past...

     Ahead, John Doe makes an abrupt halt.  A woman tenant is looking
     out her door and John Doe grabs her and throws her into the hall.
     She falls as John Doe shoves his way into her apartment.

     BACK AT THE STAIRWELL

     Somerset comes down the stairs, tired.  He runs.

     AROUND THE CORNER, IN THE OTHER HALLWAY SECTION

     Mills reaches the apartment Doe entered, bursting in...

     INT.  TENEMENT APARTMENT -- DAY

     Mills enters, gun up.  It's a railroad apartment, with all the
     rooms adjoining in a row.  At the far end of the apartment, John
     Doe can be seen moving out one room's window onto a fire escape
     just as that room's door is swinging shut.

     Mills charges through the apartment, full on...

     He bashes through the closed door...

     EXT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, FIRE ESCAPE -- DAY

     Mills leans out the window over an alleyway.  BLAM -- GUNSHOT.
     The window above Mills' shatters and Mills pulls back.

     Mills leans back out, fanning with his gun, searching.

     Below, John Doe runs out the alleyway's mouth and rounds a
     corner, gone.

     Mills curses, scrambling out onto the fire escape, running a few
     steps and then vaulting the rail... crashes down on the roof of a
     car parked below.  The windshield cracks.  Mills jumps off and
     continues the pursuit...

                                  MILLS
                           (to himself)
                   That's six...

     EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY

     Mills rounds the alleyway corner into people packed streets.

     Several people are running, heading several different directions.

     Mills comes to a halt, his focus confused, searching desperately.
     Others run upon seeing his gun.  Woman scream and grab up their
     children.  Mills can't see far down the sidewalk because of all
     the people.  He moves forward...

     He jumps atop a fire hydrant, gripping a street sign for balance,
     trying to see further down the street.

     MILLS' P.O.V. -- There he is!  John Doe can be seen, far off,
     moving across the street, through traffic, to the opposite
     sidewalk.

     ON THE STREET, Mills runs, into traffic, avoiding cars, down the
     center line.  Angry drivers scream at him.

     Ahead, John Doe glances back, ducking into an alley.

     Mills gets to the other sidewalk, yelling for people to get out
     of the way...

     EXT.  CITY ALLEYWAY -- DAY

     Mills comes to this tight alleyway.  It's dark, with a long,
     tall, vertical sliver of daylight far ahead.  Mills runs...

     Charging hard onwards...

     A two-by-four swings out from a hidden nook along the side of the
     alleyway -- slamming Mills in the face with a THWACK!!

     Mills' gun hits the alley wall and clatters into a puddle.

     Mills hits the dirt, on his back, nose broken and split, face
     bloodied.  He cries out, rolling to his side, clutching his face.

     The two-by-four is dropped.  John Doe's feet cross a short
     distance.  Doe's hand reaches to pick up Mills' gun.  (We never
     see John Doe's face.)

     Mills still lies on his side, stunned, spitting blood and
     cursing, when he feels the barrel of his gun against the side of
     his face.  Mills freezes.

     John Doe moves the gun slowly across Mills' face, till the barrel
     reaches Mills' mouth.  The barrel is inserted between his lips.

     The gun's hammer is pulled back.

     Mills quakes, tries to open his eyes, but he's blinded by the
     blood from his broken nose.  For an instant, there is a sudden,
     BRIGHT FLASH of LIGHT.

     After a long moment, the gun withdrawals.  From O.S., the bullets
     fall out of Mills gun onto his chest.

     The gun is dropped.  John Doe runs towards the sliver of light.
     He's gone.

     Mills lies for a long moment, gasping.  At the alleyway's entrance,
     Somerset appears.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Mills...

     Mills rolls, shaken, feeling to pick up the bullets and trying to
     rub the blood out of his eyes with his shirt sleeve.  Somerset
     arrives.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Are you alright?

                                  MILLS
                   I'm fine.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What happened?

     Mills gets up, collects his gun and pockets it, then walks past
     Somerset, heading back.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Mills... ?

     Mills starts running.  Somerset runs to follow.

     INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL/HALLWAY -- DAY

     Mills moves from the stairwell, driven, his nose still bleeding,
     heading for apartment 6A.  Somerset takes Mills arm, but Mills
     pulls away and keeps going.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Wait... just wait.

                                  MILLS
                   It was him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You can't go in there.

     Somerset grabs Mills again and Mills shoves him off.

                                  MILLS
                   The hell I can't!  We get in there and we
                   can stop him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   We need a warrant.

                                  MILLS
                   We have probable cause now.

     Somerset grabs Mills and shoves him against the wall.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Think about it...

                                  MILLS
                   What the fuck is wrong with you?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Think about how we got here!

     Somerset holds the computer paper, now crumpled in his hand.  He
     waves it in Mills' face as Mills struggles.

                                  SOMERSET
                   We can't tell anyone about this.  We can't
                   tell them about the Bureau, so we have no
                   reason for being here.

     Mills stops struggling, breathing hard, seething, trembling.

                                  MILLS
                   By the time we clear a warrant someone else
                   is going to be dead.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Think it through.  If we leave a hole like
                   this, we'll never prosecute.  He'll walk.
                           (pause)
                   We have to come up with some excuse for
                   knocking on this door.

                                  MILLS
                   Okay... okay... get off.

     Somerset releases Mills.  Mills looks around the hall, then goes
     right to door 6A and KICKS IT IN -- the door jam splinters and
     the door swings open to darkness for a moment before swinging
     back, half-shut.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You stupid son of a...

                                  MILLS
                   No point in arguing anymore...

     Mills strides down the short end of the hall, towards a window.

                                  MILLS
                           (pointing back)
                   Unless you can fix that.

     Mills stops, looking out the window.  It overlooks a weedy,
     overgrown courtyard where a THIN VAGRANT lies asleep on the
     concrete.  Mills turns, looking back to Somerset.

                                  MILLS
                   How much money do we have left?

     INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- EARLY EVENING

     On a stairwell landing, Somerset watches the thin vagrant from
     the courtyard talk to a uniformed POLICEMAN who writes on a
     clipboard, taking the statement.

                                  THIN VAGRANT
                   So, I... I noticed this guy going out...
                   going out a lot when those murders were
                   happening.  So... so I...

     The vagrant's clinging to the rail, drunk and out of it.  Mills
     is down further on the stairs, high strung, chomping at the bit
     to get this over with.

                                  MILLS
                   So, you called Detective Somerset, right?

                                  THIN VAGRANT
                   Yeah, I... I called the detective.
                   Because, because this guy seemed... creepy.
                   And... and...

                                  MILLS
                           (urging him on)
                   And...

                                  THIN VAGRANT
                   And, one of the murders was over there...
                   over... nearby here.  I... I called the
                   cops...

     The vagrant wipes drool from his lips.  Mills comes to grip him
     so he doesn't fall, searching the policemen's face for suspicion.

                                  MILLS
                   I told you the rest.  You got it?

                                  POLICEMAN
                           (still writing)
                   Yeah, whatever.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Have him sign it.

     The policeman holds the clipboard and pen out to the vagrant.
     Mills takes the pen and guides the vagrant's hand, almost signing
     it for him.

                                  MILLS
                   Great.  Is that it?

     The policeman nods.  Mills grips the vagrant and leads him down
     the stairs in a hurry, around a bend.  Mills looks up to be sure
     they're out of the policeman's sight, takes out a wad of cash and
     shoves it in the vagrant's pocket.

                                  MILLS
                   Go drink yourself happy.

     Mills quickly guides the vagrant on his way, then turns and
     rushes up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills pushes door 6A open, putting on rubber gloves.  He steps in
     with Somerset behind.  Somerset turns back to the policeman.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to policeman)
                   Wait outside.

     Somerset closes the door most of the way.  Mills hits a switch on
     the wall and a lamp illuminates a desk.  The desk is in the
     center of the room, facing them.  The room is bizarre, with some
     areas cluttered and others barren.  All the walls are painted
     black.  All the large, curtainless windows are painted over.

     Somerset puts on his gloves.  Mills walks to the desk.

     The desktop is rather tidy.  The only blatantly strange thing is
     a set of notches carved into the wooden surface: three notches.
     A candle has been allowed to burn down at one corner of the desk
     and the wax trail goes all the way to the floor.  Mills opens the
     middle desk drawer.  It's empty except for The Holy Bible.

     Somerset moves along shelves of books, looking at the spines.
     Lots of thick, oversized art volumes.  A HISTORY OF THEOLOGY.
     HANDBOOK OF FIREARMS.  HISTORY OF THE WORLD.  SUMMA THEOLOGICA.
     UNITED STATES CRIMINAL LAW REVIEW.

     At the desk, Mills opens another drawer.  It's filled with at
     least forty empty aspirin bottles.  He opens the next drawer and
     finds a rosary and several boxes of bullets.

     Somerset comes to look at John Doe's "bed."  No mattress. It's
     only a metal frame and springs with a sheet spread across it.
     The sheet is sweat stained and dotted by stains of rust at many
     points where springs have worn through.

     Somerset walks around the bed to a narrow table not far away
     against the wall.  The table contains a strange tableau, like a
     mini stage, hand-made of cardboard and pasted Communion wafers.
     A human hand immersed in a jar of liquid is the centerpiece.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (quiet, to himself)
                   Victor.

     Above this, on the wall, there's a clutter of pinned up articles
     about the seven deadly sins, pages from art books, pencil
     drawings of Christ, all tight together and overlapping.

     Mills picks up a small piece of paper from a letter holder.  It's
     a pink receipt from WILD BILL'S LEATHER SHOP.

     Written: CUSTOM JOB. $502.64. PAID IN FULL.  Mills puts the
     receipt back down on the desk.

     Somerset walks to a black door.  Opens it.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMEN, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset enters.  A ceiling light is on.  Bare bulb.  There are
     bookshelves on three walls, filled with notebooks.  Thousands and
     thousands of notebooks.

     Somerset takes one notebook down.  It is a thick composition book
     with an unlabeled cover.  Inside, the pages are filled with small
     handwritten sentences, thumb-nail sketches and blurry, glued in
     photographs; small photos, seemingly cut from contact sheets.
     the sketches, pictures and writings takes up ever single inch.

     Somerset takes down another notebook and flips through the pages.
     Same as the first, filled to the brim.

     Somerset crosses to another shelf and pulls another notebook.
     Same deal.  Somerset looks around.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Jesus.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills moves from the desk to a hall.  He tries a light switch,
     but it does nothing.  He walks...

     It's dark.  A rather long hall.  The only light is a red glow
     seeping from under the bottom of the closed door ahead.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset walks to a 16mm film projector.  It sits facing a
     battered white screen.  Somerset turns the projector on, backing
     away to switch off the bare bulb above.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, HALL -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills reaches the door at the end of the hall.  He turns the knob
     and pushes the door open.  He's bathed in red light.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, BATHROOM -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills enters.  He looks around, slowly.  Stunned.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING

     The projector is clattering in the dark, running a piece of film
     through.  The film is spliced to run as a non-stop loop.
     Somerset watches the screen, light strobing across him.

     The screen shows a bright image of clouds drifting, with strange
     superimposed angels in flowing robes floating jerkily.  It's like
     a weird, old Hollywood version of Heaven.

     The images switch abruptly to fire and tormented souls laboring
     around a pit of molten goo, where more tormented humans squirm.
     Like Heaven, it's a scratched piece of film from Hollywood's
     early days.

                                  MILLS (o.s.)
                   Somerset!

     Somerset is engrossed in the images.

                                  MILLS (o.s.)
                   Somerset... come here!

     Somerset hears him.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, HALL/BATHROOM -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset comes down the hall.

                                  MILLS (o.s.)
                   We had him, damn it.

     Somerset reaches the bathroom where Mills stands looking up at
     the wall.  The room has been converted into a dark room lit by
     red bulbs, with strips of film hanging from the ceiling.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What are you talking about?

                                  MILLS
                   We had him.

     There are hundreds of prints on the walls and hanging from drying
     wires.  Somerset looks around, trying to understand...

     Pictures of John Doe's victims, alive and dead.  Grotesque
     photos, of their pleading faces, and their dead bodies.  Close
     shots of eyes, fingers and mouths.

     Mills sits on the closed toilet, throwing something into the
     nearby sink and resting his head in his hands.

                                  MILLS
                   The pass was a fake.

     In the sink -- it's a laminated press pass on a neck cord.

     On the walls, more pictures: of the crime scenes, but from the
     outside looking in.  Long shots.  Police cars.  Ambulances.
     Uniformed officers putting up police barrier ribbons outside
     buildings.  The coroner's wagon.

     Somerset stares at them, taking them in, realizing...

                                  MILLS
                   We had him and we let him go.

     In the backgrounds of the pictures: Somerset and Mills.  In
     another: Mills crossing the street.  In another: Somerset and
     Mills getting out of Somerset's car.

     One photo, close shot, shows Mills and Somerset on the stairwell
     of the building where Victor's body was found.  It is the
     picture taken by the balding, almost silly looking reporter.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- NIGHT

     A male forensic uses tongs to remove Victor's hand from the jar
     of liquid.  He places the hand in a clear plastic evidence bag.

     The forensic walks away with the hand, past a FEMALE SKETCH
     ARTIST who puts the finishing touches on an accurate drawing of
     the balding, almost silly looking reporter who wears thick
     glasses, now known as John Doe.

                                  SKETCH ARTIST
                   You're sure this is him?

     Mills stands over the sketch artist.  Two deputy detectives, SARA
     and BILLY, are at work along with two other forensics searching,
     photographing and dusting.

                                  MILLS
                   Just put it in circulation.

                                  SKETCH ARTIST
                   You got it.  Tomorrow morning, this city's
                   good citizens will be on the lookout for
                   Elmer Fudd.

                                  SARA
                           (coming to Mills)
                   We can't find anything to hang on to.  No
                   paystubs, no appointment books or
                   calendars.  Not even an address book.  And,
                   you're not going to believe this...

                                  MILLS
                   Keep looking.

                                  SARA
                   It's just... we haven't found any
                   fingerprints yet.  Not a single one.

                                  MILLS
                   You know, you're right, I don't believe
                   you.  Keep looking.

     Mills walks away.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- NIGHT

     Somerset and three uniformed officers are looking through the
     notebooks on the shelves.  Somerset squints at the notebook in
     his hand, shaking his head as he reads.  Mills enters.

     Somerset looks up and closes the notebook.

                                  SOMERSET
                   We could use about fifty more men here.

                                  MILLS
                   I'm trying, alright?  Just tell me what
                   we've got.

     Somerset pauses briefly at Mills' abruptness.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Well, there are at least five thousand
                   notebooks in this room, and near as I can
                   tell, each notebook contains two hundred
                   and fifty pages.

                                  MILLS
                   Then, he must write about these murders.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (opens notebook, reads)
                   "What sick, ridiculous, puppets we are, and
                   what a gross, little stage we dance on.
                   What fun we have, dancing and fucking, not
                   a care in the world.  Not knowing that we
                   are nothing.  We are not what was
                   intended."

     Somerset turns a few pages.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (reads)
                   "On the subway today, a man came to me to
                   start a conversation.  He made small talk,
                   this lonely man, talking about the weather
                   and other things.  I tried to be pleasant
                   and accommodating, but my head began to
                   hurt from his banality.  I almost didn't
                   notice it had happened, but I suddenly
                   threw up all over him.  He was not pleased,
                   and I couldn't help laughing."

     Somerset closes the notebook.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No dates indicated, placed on the shelves
                   in no discernible order.  It's just his
                   mind poured out on paper.  I don't think
                   it's going to give us any specifics.

                                  MILLS
                   Looking around... I've got a bad feeling
                   these murders are his life's work.

     A PHONE is HEARD RINGING in another room.  Mills looks.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- NIGHT

     Everyone's looking around, and at each other, trying to find the
     source of the RINGING.  Mills and Somerset enter, baffled.  Mills
     looks to Sara.  She shrugs and shakes her head.

     Everyone searches.  PHONE RINGS.

     Mills gets on his hands and knees.

                                  MILLS
                   Here...

     Mills crawls under John Doe's "bed."  He comes back out with a
     rotary phone.  Someone throws him a micro-cassette recorder.
     Mills turns the recorder on, makes sure it's running, then picks
     up the phone with the recorder to the earpiece.

                                  MILLS
                           (into phone)
                   Hello.

                                  JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                           (from phone)
                   I admire you.  I don't know how you found
                   me, but imagine my surprise.  I respect you
                   detectives more every day.

                                  MILLS
                           (into phone)
                   Okay, John, let's...

                                  JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                           (from phone)
                   No, no, no!  You listen.  I'll be back on
                   schedule tomorrow, even with this setback.
                   I just had to call and express my
                   admiration.  I'm sorry I had to hurt you
                   today, but I didn't have a choice.  You
                   will accept my apology, won't you?

     Mills says nothing, containing his anger.

                                  JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                   I feel like saying more... but I don't want
                   to ruin the surprise.

     John Doe hangs up.  Mills puts down the phone.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- LATER NIGHT

     Mills and Somerset stand in the dark, watching the continuous
     loop projector's strange images of Heaven and Hell.

                                  MILLS
                   You were right.

     Somerset looks at Mills.

                                  MILLS
                   He's preaching.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (nods)
                   These murders are his masterwork.  His
                   sermon to all of us.  To all us sinners.

     The door opens and light bursts in.  The captain stands there,
     looking them over.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   It's been a long day, kids.  Go home.  Just
                   make sure you sleep with the phone between
                   your legs.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

     Somerset winds his metronome.  PHONE RINGS.  Somerset does not
     want to answer it, but does.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (into phone)
                   Hello.

                                  TRACY (v.o.)
                           (from phone)
                   Hello, William?  It's Tracy.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (into phone)
                   Tracy, is everything alright?

                                  TRACY (v.o.)
                   Yes, yes, everything's fine.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Where's David?

                                  TRACY (v.o.)
                   He's in the shower, in the other room.  I'm
                   sorry to call like this.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's alright, I guess.

                                  TRACY (v.o.)
                   I, um... I need to talk to you.  I need to
                   talk to someone.  Can you meet me
                   somewhere... maybe tomorrow morning?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I really don't understand.

                                  TRACY (v.o.)
                   I feel stupid, but you're the only person I
                   know here.  There's no one else...

                                  SOMERSET
                   I just...

                                  TRACY (v.o.)
                   Can't you get away, for a little while?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I don't know, with this case.

                                  TRACY
                   If you can, please call me.  Please.  I
                   have to go now... goodnight.

     Tracy hangs up.  Somerset looks at the phone, wondering.

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     FRIDAY

     INT.  COFFEE CAFE -- MORNING

     Somerset sits in the window booth with Tracy.  The cafe is noisy.
     Tracy stares into her coffee while she stirs it.

                                  TRACY
                   I mean, you known this city.  You've been
                   here for so long.

                                  SOMERSET
                   It's a hard place.

                                  TRACY
                   I don't sleep very well.

     Somerset is trying to be understanding, but sneaks a look at his
     watch.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I feel strange being here with you...
                   without David knowing.

                                  TRACY
                   I'm sorry, I only...

     Two young punks step up to the window outside and look in at
     Tracy.  One flicks his tongue rapidly.  Tracy looks away.
     Somerset takes out his badge and holds it against the window.
     One punk gives the finger and the other spits on the window.
     They leave, laughing.  Tracy tries to smile.

                                  TRACY
                   Perfect example.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You have to put blinders on sometimes.
                   Most times.

                                  TRACY
                   I don't know why I asked you to come.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Talk to him about it.  He'll understand if
                   you tell him how you feel.

                                  TRACY
                   I can't be a burden, especially now.  I
                   know I'll get used to things.  I guess I
                   wanted to know what someone who's lived
                   here thinks.  Upstate, it was a completely
                   different environment.
                           (pause)
                   I don't know if David told you, but I teach
                   fifth grade, or did.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He mentioned it.

     Tracy seems very upset, near tears.

                                  TRACY
                   I've been going to some of the schools,
                   looking for work, but the conditions here
                   are... horrible.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You should look into private schools.

                                  TRACY
                   I don't know...

     Tracy looks up, wipes at her eyes.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What's really bothering you?

     Tracy bites her lip.

                                  TRACY
                   David and I are... going to have a baby.

     Somerset sits back, the expression of soothing concern on his
     face disappearing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Oh, Tracy... I have to tell you, I'm not
                   the one to talk to about this.

                                  TRACY
                   I hate this city.

     Somerset sighs.  He takes out a cigarette, but thinks better of
     it and puts it back.  He looks out the window.

                                  SOMERSET
                   If you're thinking...
                           (pause)
                   I had a relationship once, very much like a
                   marriage.  And, she was going to have our
                   child.  This is a long time ago.  She and I
                   had decided we were going to make the
                   choice together... whether to keep the
                   baby.

     Tracy looks at Somerset.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Well, I got up one morning and went to
                   work... just like any other day, except it
                   was my first since hearing about the baby.
                   And, I... I felt this fear and anxiety
                   washing over me.  I looked around, and I
                   thought, how can we raise a child
                   surrounded by all this?  How can a child
                   grow up here?
                           (pause)
                   So, that night, I told her I didn't want us
                   to have it, and over the next few weeks, I
                   convinced her it was wrong.  I mean... I
                   wore her down, slowly.

                                  TRACY
                   I want to have children.  It's just...

                                  SOMERSET
                   I can tell you now, I know... I'm positive
                   I made the right decision.  I'm positive.
                   But, there's never a day that passes that I
                   don't wish I had decided differently.

     Somerset reaches and takes Tracy's hand.

                                  SOMERSET
                   If you... don't keep the baby, if that's
                   what you decide, then, never tell him you
                   were pregnant.  I mean that.  Never.
                           (pause)
                   The relationship will whither and die.

     Tracy nods, tears welling up again.  Somerset smiles a bit.

                                  SOMERSET
                   But, if you do decide to have the baby,
                   then, at that very moment, when you're
                   absolutely sure, tell David.  Tell him at
                   that exact second, and then spoil that kid
                   every chance you get.

     There are tears in Somerset's eyes.

                                  SOMERSET
                   That's all the advice I can give you,
                   Tracy.  I don't even know you.

     He smiles again, wipes his own tears.

                                  TRACY
                   William...

     Somerset's beeper begins BEEPING.  He takes it out and stands,
     wanting to leave.  Tracy gets up and kisses him on the cheek.

                                  TRACY
                   Thank you.

     Somerset starts to back away.

                                  TRACY
                   Keep in touch after you're gone, William.
                   Please.

     Somerset nods, raises a hand to say goodbye as he leaves.

     INT.  WILD BILL'S LEATHER SHOP -- DAY

     Mills and Somerset are on one side of the counter and WILD BILL
     is on the other.  Wild Bill is shirtless and covered in tattoos.
     He has a thick scar running down the center of his forehead and
     down his cheek.  leather belts, whips and jackets hang on the
     walls and from the ceiling.

                                  WILD BILL
                   Yeah, he picked it up last night.

     Wild Bill holds the pink receipt from John Doe's apartment.

                                  MILLS
                   This was definitely him?

     Mills points to the rendering of John Doe he holds.

                                  WILD BILL
                   Yeah, John Doe.  Easy name to remember.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What was this job you did for him?

                                  WILD BILL
                   I got a picture of it here.  It's a real
                   sweet piece...

     Wild Bill pulls a box from behind the counter, digs in it.

                                  WILD BILL
                   I figured he must be one of those
                   performance artists.  That's what I
                   figured.
                   Like one of those guys who pisses in a cup
                   on stage and drinks it.  Performance art.

     Wild Bill hands a Polaroid picture to Mills.  We do not see the
     picture yet.

                                  MILLS
                   Oh... give me a break.

                                  WILD BILL
                   I think I undercharged him.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (looks at photo)
                   You built this for him?  You build this?

                                  WILD BILL
                   I've built weirder shit than that.  So
                   what?

     A POLICEMAN enters the store.

                                  POLICEMAN
                   Detectives... we have a situation.

     Mills and Somerset follow the cop out.

                                  WILD BILL
                   Hey, my picture... !

     Wild Bill watches them go, scratches his thick scar.

                                  WILD BILL
                   Fucking pigs.

     EXT.  THE HOT HOUSE MASSAGE PARLOUR -- DAY

     It's a madhouse outside The Hot House, a bright red storefront
     bordered on both sides by porno theater after porno theater.  A
     crowd is gathered around a police action in progress.

     Cops have formed a barrier, holding back the crowd and creating
     an aisle from the entrance of The Hot House to the back of a
     jail-van.  Cops and detectives are escorting various men, women
     and transvestites into the large vehicle.  The crowd, consisting
     of the dregs of society, is shouting.  Some people are spitting
     and throwing trash at the cops.

     INT.  THE HOT HOUSE, RECEPTION AREA -- DAY

     TWO COPS are in front of a glass and steel cage.  Inside the cage
     is a fat, BALD MAN with a wall of sex toys behind him.

                                  BALD MAN
                   Just wait!  Just wait!

     One cop pounds his nightstick against the glass.

                                  COP
                   Get out of the fucking booth!

                                  BALD MAN
                   Just wait!  I'll come out, just wait!

     INT.  THE HOT HOUSE, CORRIDORS -- DAY

     All the lights are red and the walls are painted red.  Mills and
     Somerset follow a THIRD COP through the twisting corridors.
     POLICEMEN can be HEARD SHOUTING and MAKING ARRESTS.  ROCK MUSIC
     PLAYS, throbbing.  They come to a door.

                                  THIRD COP
                   I don't want to go in there again.

     INT.  RED ROOM -- DAY

     Mills and Somerset enter.  ROCK MUSIC CONTINUES, LOUD.  A strobe
     light flashes from the ceiling.  TWO AMBULANCE ATTENDANTS are in
     the room.  The first attendant is placing a sheet over a bed,
     hiding the corpse of a blonde woman.  The second attendant is
     trying to examine the pupils of a CRAZED MAN, 55, who is naked
     and wrapped in a sheet.  A SWEATING COP holds crazed man down.

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   He... he... he made me do it!

                                  SECOND ATTENDANT
                   I have to look at you.  I have to look at
                   you!

     LUST is scratched into the red paint on the wall in big letters.

     Mills and Somerset move towards the covered body.

                                  FIRST ATTENDANT
                           (to Mills and Somerset)
                   You're not going to want to see this more
                   than once.

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   He had a gun!  He made me do it!

     The sheet is lifted for the detectives.  They grimace at what
     they see.  We do not see.  Somerset closes his eyes and turns
     away.  The first attendant replaces the sheet.

     Mills steps back, takes out his handkerchief and sucks on it.  He
     looks at the crazed man.  The crazed man jerks around while the
     second attendant preps a needle.

                                  SECOND ATTENDANT
                   He's in shock, man.  He's gone.

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   Take this thing off me... take it off!
                   Please, take this thing off me!

     The sweating cop keeps his controlling grip on the crazed man.

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   Get it off... oh, God!

                                  SWEATING COP
                           (to Mills and Somerset)
                   You're the detectives, right?  Right?
                   Well, you'd better see this!

     Somerset's facing the wall.  Crazed man's still yelling.

                                  SWEATING COP
                   Hey... you better see what's strapped onto
                   this guy!

     Mills turns to the cop.

                                  MILLS
                   We've already seen it!

     INT.  SANATORIUM, WHITE ROOM -- DAY

     A Polaroid photograph on a white table.  It is the photo Wild
     Bill gave to Mills.  It's a picture of a belt, made with extra
     leather straps so it can be worn securely around the groin.  It
     is a strap-on phallus, except there is no plastic protuberance.
     Instead, there is a metal knife -- it's a strap-on butcher's
     knife.

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   And... and... and he said... he asked me if
                   I was married.  And, I could see he had a
                   gun in his hand.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Where was the girl?

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   What?  What?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Where was the prostitute?  Where was she?

     The crazed man leans forward in his chair.

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   She was... she was on the bed.  She was
                   just sitting on the bed.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Who tied her down?  You or him?

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   He had a gun.  He had a gun... and he made
                   it happen.  He made me do it!
                           (sobbing)
                   He made me put that... that thing on.  Oh,
                   Christ!  He made me wear it... and... and
                   he told me to fuck her.  He had the gun in
                   my mouth.

     The man slides to the floor and hides his face in his hands.

                                  CRAZED MAN
                   The gun was in my throat!

     Somerset looks up at the mirror in his room.  He stands and picks
     up the Polaroids as two men in institutional uniforms enter to
     collect the crazed man from the floor.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, INTERROGATION ROOM -- DAY

     Mills stands in this dirty room with the dirty, bald man from The
     Hot House's reception area booth.

                                  MILLS
                   You didn't hear any screams?  Nothing?  You
                   didn't notice when this man walked in with
                   a package under his arm?!

                                  BALD MAN
                   No, I didn't.

                                  MILLS
                   You didn't notice anything wrong?  Nothing
                   seemed strange to you?

                                  BALD MAN
                   Everybody who goes in there has a package
                   under his arm.  Some guys are carrying
                   suitcases full of stuff.  And, screams?
                   There're screams coming out of there
                   everyday.  It goes with the territory,
                   little boy!

                                  MILLS
                   You like what you do for a living?  You
                   like the things you see?

     The bald man smiles strangely.

                                  BALD MAN
                   No.  No, I don't.  But, that's life.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING

     The blackboard:

     1  gluttony (x)     5  wrath
     2  greed (x)        6  pride
     3  sloth (x)        7  lust (x)
     4  envy

     Somerset and Mills are shell-shocked, silent, seated at their
     desks.  Somerset is looking at the blackboard.  Mills is looking
     at the billboard out the window.

     INT.  SPORTS BAR -- NIGHT

     Somerset and Mills sit with a full pitcher of beer.  The jukebox
     plays for the other customers.  The walls of the bar are covered
     with trophies, plaques and other victory symbols.

                                  SOMERSET
                   The irony is, after a day of the type of
                   work he did, he'd come home and read me
                   these morbid crime stories.  Murders in the
                   Rue Morgue.  Le Fanu's Green Tea.  My
                   mother would give him hell because he was
                   keeping me up till all hours.

                                  MILLS
                   Sounds like a father who wanted his son to
                   follow in his footsteps.

                                  SOMERSET
                   One birthday he gave me this brand new
                   hardcover book, "The Century of the
                   Detective," by Jurgen Thorwald.  It traced
                   the history of deduction as a science, and
                   it sealed my fate, because it was real, not
                   fiction.  And, that a drop of blood or a
                   piece of hair could solve a crime... it was
                   incredible to me.

     Somerset drinks, then pours more beer.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You know... there's not going to be a happy
                   ending to this.  It's not possible anymore.

                                  MILLS
                   If we get him, I'll be happy enough.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No.  Face it now.  Stop thinking it's good
                   guys against bad guys.

                                  MILLS
                   How can you say that?  Especially after
                   today?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Don't try to focus on things as black and
                   white, because you'll go blind.  There's no
                   winning and losing here.

                                  MILLS
                   You're the oldest man I know, Somerset.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You tell me, then... you walk into an
                   apartment, and a man has beaten his wife to
                   death, or the wife murdered the husband,
                   and you have to wash the blood off their
                   children.  You put the killer in jail.  Who
                   won?

                                  MILLS
                   You do your job...

                                  SOMERSET
                   Where's the victory?

                                  MILLS
                   You follow the law and do the best you can.
                   It's all there.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Just know that in this case there's not
                   going to be any satisfaction.  If we caught
                   John Doe and he were the devil himself, if
                   it turned out he were actually Satan, then,
                   that might live up to our expectations.  No
                   human being could do these things, right?
                   But, this is not the devil.  It's just a
                   man.

                                  MILLS
                   Why don't you shut the fuck up for a while?
                   You bitch and complain... if I thought like
                   you, I would have slit my wrist already.

     Somerset sits back, looking at Mills.

                                  MILLS
                   You think you're preparing me for the hard
                   times ahead?  You think you're toughening
                   me up?  Well, you're not!  You're quitting,
                   fine... but I'm staying.

                                  SOMERSET
                   People don't want a champion.  They just
                   want to keep playing the lottery and eating
                   hamburgers.

                                  MILLS
                   What the fuck is wrong with you?  What
                   burnt you out?

                                  SOMERSET
                   It wasn't one thing, if that's what you
                   mean.  I just... I can't live here anymore.
                   I can't live where stupidity is embraced
                   and nurtured as if it were a virtue.

                                  MILLS
                   Oh, you're so much better than everyone,
                   right?  No one's worthy of you.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Wrong!  I sympathize completely, because if
                   you can't win... then, if you don't ignore
                   everything and everyone around you, you...
                   you become like John Doe.  It's easier to
                   beat a child than it is to raise it,
                   because it takes so much work to love.  You
                   just have to make sure you don't stop to
                   think about the abuse, and the damage,
                   because you'll risk being sad.  Keep
                   ignoring.

                                  MILLS
                   You're talking about people who are
                   mentally ill.  You're...

                                  SOMERSET
                   No I'm not!  I'm talking about common,
                   everyday life here.  If you let yourself
                   worry about one thing, you'll worry about
                   the next, and the next, and it never ends.
                   In this place, ignorance isn't just bliss,
                   it's a matter of survival.

                                  MILLS
                   Listen to yourself.  You say, "the problem
                   with people is they don't care, so I don't
                   care about people."  But, you're already
                   here.  You've been here a long time.  So,
                   there's a part of you that knows, even if
                   everything you say is true, none of it
                   matters.

                                  SOMERSET
                   That part of me is dead.

     Mills stands.

                                  MILLS
                   You want me to agree with you: "Yeah,
                   you're right, Somerset.  This is a fucked
                   place.  Let's go live in a fucking log
                   cabin."  Well, I don't agree with you.
                   You're giving up, and it makes me sick,
                   because you're the best I've ever seen.

     Mills throws some money on the table.

                                  MILLS
                   Thanks for the beer.

     Mills leaves, other patrons watching him.

     Somerset takes out a cigarette and goes to light it.  The lighter
     will not light, and when it does, Somerset's hand is trembling.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

     Mills comes quietly into the dark bedroom.  Tracy is asleep on
     the bed.  Mills takes off his suit jacket, puts it down.  He sits
     on a chair and unties one shoe, takes it off, then looks at
     Tracy.  Looks at her a long moment.

     He puts the shoe on the floor and goes to get on the bed.  He
     kisses his wife's forehead, kisses her cheek, then wraps his arms
     under and around her.  He holds her tight, kisses her again.
     Tracy stirs.

                                  TRACY
                   Honey?

     Mills runs his fingers along her face.

                                  MILLS
                   I love you.

     Mills holds her tighter.  She wraps her arms around him.  They
     lie together, clinging, holding tighter still.

     INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT BUILDING/STREET -- NIGHT

     Through the window of the apartment, we can see Tracy and Mills
     on the bed.  CAMERA MOVES from this window, to the street.

     CAMERA CONTINUES down the night street, to a car far from Mills'
     building.  Inside the car, John Doe sits, looking up at Mills'
     window.  Doe looks as plain as white bread.  He adjusts his thick
     glasses, sips from a coffee cup.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT

     Somerset is in bed.  The metronome is sounding; tick... tick...
     tick...  The SOUNDS of the CITY are LOUD.

     Somerset closes his eyes, concentrating on the metronome.
     Tick... tick... tick...  TWO MEN are HEARD from outside, YELLING
     at each other.  Somerset rolls over, restless.  Tick... tick...
     tick...

     GLASS is HEARD SHATTERING.  Somerset opens his eyes.  MORE GLASS,
     bottles being smashed.  Somerset sits up.  He reaches over, grabs
     the metronome and throws it against the wall.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT

     THWACK.  Somerset's switchblade hits the dartboard on the wall
     and the blade embeds.

     Somerset crosses the room, still dressed for bed.  He is tense.
     He takes the switchblade from the dartboard, paces back across
     the room, turns, holds the blade, then throws.  The blade sticks.

     Somerset paces back to the dartboard, pulls the blade, paces
     back, throws the knife.  THWACK.  He goes to the board, gets the
     blade, paces, turns, throws.  THWACK.

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     SATURDAY

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- DAY

     A clock on the wall says 12:30.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- DAY

     Three deputy detectives are reading John Doe's notebooks.  PHONE
     RINGS from the other room.

     INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARMENT, MAIN ROOM -- DAY

     One deputy enters.  He goes to the phone near the bed.  The
     phone's been hooked into recording device with a speaker and
     tracing equipment.  The deputy turns everything on, answers.

                                  JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                           (through speaker)
                   I've gone and done it again.

     INT.  LUXURY APARTMENT, BATHROOM -- DAY

     Somerset is looking around this femininely decorated bathroom
     with a forensic, GIL.  Both wear rubber gloves.

     At the sink, objects covered in blood: a pair of scissors, a
     hypodermic needle, first-aid tape and gauze bandages, a bottle of
     anesthetic, a straight razor and a tube of super glue.

                                  GIL
                   He really did a number on her, didn't he?

     Gil opens the plastic shower curtain and looks into the tub.  The
     tub and shower wall are splattered with blood.  The tub has a few
     inches of water in it.  The water is cloudy red.  A few bits of
     tape and gauze float in it.  Gil jiggles the drain's knob.  Some
     bubbles pop up from the clogged drain.

     INT.  LUXURY APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- DAY

     PRIDE is written in lipstick on a full length mirror.  Below
     that: I DID NOT KILL HER.  SHE WAS GIVEN A CHOICE.

     Mills and Dr. O'Neill are in the room.  O'Neill goes through his
     black bag.  They're by a bed where a WOMAN lies dead under a
     blanket.  The woman's head is sloppily bandaged with heavy white
     gauze and tape.  The gauze is stained by spots of blood.  Only
     the eyes and mouth have been left uncovered.  A zoo's worth of
     stuffed animals have been placed across the bed.  The woman holds
     a stuffed unicorn.

     Somerset enters from the bathroom as Mills reaches to take the
     unicorn from the woman's grasp.  There is a cordless phone in her
     left hand, and her and clings to it.

     Her right hand holds a bottle of prescription pills.  Mills tries
     to open the fingers of this hand with a tongue depressor, but
     they are super-glued to the bottle.  Mills turns the woman's hand
     slightly so two red pills roll out onto the blanket.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Sleeping pills.

     Mills examines the left hand.  The phone is glued into it.

     O'Neill steps up, holding a thin pair of silver scissors.  He
     leans to slide the scissors under the woman's bandage mask,
     starts cutting.

     Somerset goes to a dresser where the woman's purse sits open.  He
     takes out the driver's license and looks at the photo.  The woman
     in the picture is stunningly beautiful.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You see what he did?

     Mills is watching the doctor work.

                                  MILLS
                   He cut her up and dressed the wounds.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (holds up his left hand)
                   Call for help, and you'll live.  But,
                   you'll be disfigured.
                           (raises right hand)
                   Or, put yourself out of your misery.

     O'Neill removes the bandages.  Mills looks away.  We do not see.
     O'Neill looks to the detectives.

                                  O'NEILL
                   He cut off her nose to spite her face, and
                   he did it very recently.

     EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY

     Mills' car pulls up in front of the precinct house.  Mills and
     Somerset get out.  They wade through cars towards the old
     precinct house building.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I've decided to stay on this, till it's
                   over.  Till it's either done or we can both
                   see it's never going to finish.

     Mills remains impassive.

                                  MILLS
                   Oh, you want to stay now?

                                  SOMERSET
                   One of two things will happen.  We're
                   either going to get John Doe, or he'll
                   finish his series of seven, and this case
                   will go on for years.

                                  MILLS
                   You think you're doing me a big favor by
                   staying?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'm requesting you keep me on as your
                   partner a few more days.  You'd be doing me
                   the favor.

     Mills walks on.

                                  MILLS
                   You knew I'd say yes.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No, actually, I wasn't sure at all.

     Somerset and Mills climb the steps of the precinct house.
     Behind them, in the street, John Doe's car pulls up and parks.

     Cars behind begin BEEPING.  People behind begin cursing and
     screaming for him to move.

     John Doe steps out, his brown work boots, pants and shirttails
     are splattered with blood.

     He walks towards the precinct house, hands in his pockets, like
     he's out for a stroll.  People on the sidewalk stop on seeing
     him, avoid him.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, RECEIVING LOBBY -- DAY

     Mills and Somerset walk past booking cubicles and benches of
     handcuffed low-lifes.  Junkies are being led through by uniformed
     cops.  The place is swimming with activity.  The two detectives
     head to the wide duty desk at the end of the room.

                                  SOMERSET
                   As soon as this is over, I'm gone.

                                  MILLS
                   Big surprise.

     They pass through a gate and Somerset goes towards a staircase
     leading upstairs.  Mills stops at the duty desk.  Other cops are
     vying for the DUTY SERGEANT'S attention.

                                  MILLS
                   Mills and Somerset are on the premises.

                                  SERGEANT
                   Wonder-fucking-ful.

     Another PLAIN CLOTHES COP behind the duty desk leans over to hold
     out a few phone-message note to Mills.

                                  PLAIN CLOTHES COP
                   Your wife called this morning.  Do us a
                   favor and get yourself an answering
                   machine, how bout it?

     Mills nods and wave dismissively, pocketing the messages without
     looking at them and walking to follow Somerset.

                                  JOHN DOE (o.s.)
                   Detective.

     Mills heads toward the stairs.

                                  JOHN DOE (o.s.)
                   Detective!

     Mills looks back... stops.

     John Doe stands inside the precinct house doors.  He gives a very
     slight smile.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I know you.

     Somerset stops, looks back down the stairs.

     Mills is staring at Doe, not comprehending.

     Doe holds up his arms as if to say, "Presto, here I am."  All
     eyes go to the blood-soaked figure of John Doe.  There comes a
     sudden, near-silence in the room.

     One UNIFORMED COP takes out his gun, points it at John Doe.

                                  UNIFORMED COP
                   It's him!

     Several other cops drop what they're doing and draw weapons.

     Mills, still off balance, takes out his own gun, walking back
     through the gate.  He points the gun at John Doe.

                                  MILLS
                   Get down.  Get down on the floor.

     Cops move slowly in on Doe from all sides.

                                  ANOTHER COP
                   You heard him, fuckface.  Get down!

     Somerset comes back through the gate.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Be careful!

     John Doe gets down on his knees, hands in the air.  Mills, pulse
     pounding, steps up, gun in both hands.  Not too close.

                                  MILLS
                   Down!  Face on the floor!

     ONE COP comes from behind and nudges Doe with his foot.

                                  ONE COP
                   Spread your legs and get your hands out in
                   front of you!

     John Doe lies on his stomach, obeying.  Mills comes up and puts
     his gun right against Doe's head.

                                  MILLS
                   Don't move.  Don't move an inch.

     One cop begins frisking Doe.  Another comes to put on cuffs.

     Somerset comes to Mills' side.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I don't believe it.

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (to Somerset)
                   Hello.

     The cop putting on the handcuffs looks up at Somerset and Mills.

                                  COP
                   What the fuck is this... ?

     The cop holds up Doe's cuffed hands.  Doe winces.  Every single
     one of Doe's fingers has a bandage wrapped around it.

     John Doe tries to muster a smile, his face pressed against the
     floor, glasses askew, gun at his temple.

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (to Mills)
                   I want to speak to my lawyer.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, OBSERVATION ROOM -- DAY

     Mills holds a fingerprint card.  The black ink prints are just
     useless blobs, smeared with blood.

     Mills, Somerset and the Captain stand in darkness.  Mills looks
     up from the print card through a two-way mirror into an
     interrogation room.

     In the interrogation room, John Doe sits, handcuffed to the wall.
     This is not some superhuman serial killer.

     He looks more like an eccentric college professor, not seething
     with anger, but looking around with calm, almost lazy eyes.  The
     lawyer, MARK SWARR, sits taking notes and talking with Doe.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   He cuts off the skin if his fingertips.
                   That's why we can't find a single usable
                   print in the apartment.  He's been doing it
                   for quite a while.  Keeps cutting before
                   the papillary line can grow back.

                                  MILLS
                   What about the trace on his bank account
                   and the guns?  There must be something to
                   connect him with a past.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   So far it's all dead ends.  No credit
                   history.  No employment history.  His bank
                   account's only five years old and it
                   started as cash.  We're even trying to
                   trace his furniture, but for now all we
                   know is he's independently wealth, well
                   educated and totally insane.  We may never
                   know how he got that way.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Because he is John Doe, by choice.

                                  MILLS
                   When do we get to question him?

                                  CAPTAIN
                   You don't.  It goes to court now.

                                  MILLS
                   He wouldn't just turn himself in.  It
                   doesn't make any sense.

     Somerset moves from the window, crossing the room to sit.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Well, there he sits.  It's not supposed to
                   make sense.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He's not finished.

                                  MILLS
                   He's pissing in our faces again and we're
                   just taking it.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   You're wound too tight, Mills.  Let it go.

     The captain walks.  Mills is furious.  He presses his fingers
     against the two-way-mirror, pushes to crack his knuckles loudly.

                                  MILLS
                           (to Somerset)
                   You know he's fucking us.

                                  SOMERSET
                   You and I are, probably for the first time
                   ever, in total agreement.  He wouldn't just
                   stop.

                                  MILLS
                   Well... what the fuck, man?

                                  SOMERSET
                   He's only two murders away from finishing
                   his masterpiece, right?  Can you even
                   conceive of what's going to happen next?  I
                   mean, can you even imagine how he'll try to
                   finish it?

     Mills looks in at John Doe.  Somerset comes to stand beside.

                                  MILLS
                   No.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I can tell you this.  I recognize his
                   lawyer.  His name's Mark Swarr.

     Mills looks at Somerset.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He's the one who got Victor out.
                           (pause)
                   We'll wait for John Doe's plea.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY

     Mills is at the desk, feet up.  He stares at the blackboard.

     1  gluttony (x)      5  wrath
     2  greed (x)         6  pride (x)
     3  sloth (x)         7  lust (x)
     4  envy

     Clock on the wall says 4:45.  Somerset is packing books into
     boxes, preparing for his eventual departure.

     The captain steps into the office and clears his throat, looking
     like there is something making him very unhappy.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, CAPTAIN'S OFFICE -- DAY

     Mills and Somerset stand together.  The captain is behind his
     desk with Martin Talbot, the D.A., seated in front of him.  Mark
     Swarr is addressing them all, seems nervous but in control.

                                  SWARR
                   My client says there are two more bodies...
                   two more victims, hidden away.  He will
                   take Detectives Mills and Somerset to these
                   bodies, but only Detectives Mills and
                   Somerset.  Only at six o'clock today.

     Talbot wipes his moist brow with a handkerchief.

                                  TALBOT
                   Oh, Christ.

                                  MILLS
                   Why us?

                                  SWARR
                   He says he admires you.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to captain)
                   This is all part of his game plan.

                                  SWARR
                   My client claims that if the detectives do
                   not accept this offer, these two bodies
                   will never be found.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Frankly, counselor, I'm inclined to let
                   them rot.

                                  TALBOT
                   We don't make deals, Mr. Swarr.

     Mills gets in Swarr's face.

                                  MILLS
                   How is it working for a scumbag like this?
                   You proud of yourself?

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Ease back, Mills.

                                  SWARR
                   I'm required by law to serve my clients to
                   the best of my ability, and to serve their
                   best interests.

     Mills back off.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   Well, we're going to have to pass.

                                  SWARR
                   My client... he also wishes to inform you,
                   if you do not accept, he will plead
                   insanity, across the board.

                                  TALBOT
                           (to no one in particular)
                   Let him try!  I'd like to see him try!

                                  SWARR
                   Come now, Martin.  We all know, with the
                   extreme nature of these crimes, I could get
                   him off with such a plea.

     Talbot considers this, wringing the handkerchief in his hands.
     Mills looks at Somerset.  Somerset looks at him.

                                  TALBOT
                   I'm not letting this conviction slide, I
                   can tell you that right here and right now!

                                  SWARR
                   He says, if you accept, under his specific
                   conditions, he will sign a full confession
                   and plead guilty... right here, right now.

     Talbot glares at Swarr.

                                  CAPTAIN
                           (to Mills)
                   What do you think?

                                  MILLS
                   I'm in.

                                  SWARR
                   It has to be both of you.

                                  SOMERSET
                   If he were to claim insanity, this
                   conversation is admissible.  The fact that
                   he's blackmailing us with his plea...

                                  SWARR
                   And, my client reminds you, two more are
                   dead.  The press would have a field day if
                   they found out the police didn't seem too
                   concerned about finding them... giving them
                   a proper burial.

                                  SOMERSET
                   If there really are two more dead.

     The captain picks up a sheet from his desk.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   The lab report came up from downtown,  They
                   did a quickie on Doe's clothing and
                   fingernails.  They found blood from Doe,
                   from him cutting his own fingers... there
                   was blood from the woman whose face he cut
                   off, and blood from a third party.  As yet
                   unidentified.

                                  TALBOT
                           (to Somerset)
                   You would be escorting an unarmed man.

     Somerset thinks it over.  He looks to Mills.

                                  MILLS
                   Let's finish it.

     Somerset looks at the floor, then at Swarr.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to the captain)
                   Well... get the fucking lawyer out of the
                   room and we can talk about how this whole
                   thing's going to go down.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, BATHROOM/LOCKER ROOM -- DAY

     Somerset's hand reaches to the sink to pick up a razor.

     Somerset and Mills are at the sinks, looking at themselves in
     mirrors, shirtless.  They have shaving cream spread across their
     chests.  Somerset flicks his cigarette in the sink, then brings
     the razor up to start shaving the hair off his chest.  Mills is
     already doing the same.

                                  SOMERSET
                   If John Doe's head splits open and a U.F.O.
                   flies out, I want you to have expected it.

                                  MILLS
                   I will.

     They continue shaving.

                                  MILLS
                   If I were to accidentally cut off one of my
                   nipple, would that be covered by workman's
                   compensation?

     Somerset smiles just slightly.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I suppose so.
                           (pause)
                   If you were man enough to actually file the
                   claim, I'd buy you a new one out of my own
                   pocket.

     Mills finishes shaving, washes and wipes his chest off with a
     towel.  He turns dead serious.

                                  MILLS
                   Listen, Somerset... I uh...

     Mills pauses, sighs.  Somerset stops shaving and looks at him.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What is it?

                                  MILLS
                   Well, I have to tell you...
                           (pause)
                   I think I've fallen in love with you.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (shakes his head)
                   Slut.

                                  MILLS
                           (laughs, walking out)
                   Kiss me on the lips.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (still shaving)
                   Give me a break.

     INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, READY ROOM -- DAY

     Somerset and Mills have their shirts open.  A female technician
     tapes a small radio transmitter and microphone to Mills' chest.
     Somerset is already wired up, pressing the adhesive to make sure
     it'll hold.

     The technician finishes prepping Mills.  Somerset buttons up his
     shirt.  The technician packs up her kit, leaving.  The room is
     quiet.  Somerset picks up his bullet-proof vest, slides into it.

     Mills looks at his watch.  He puts on his own vest, fastening it
     tight.  He looks at Somerset.

     Somerset takes out a roll of antacids and pops a few.

     Mills holds out his hand and waits for an antacid.  Somerset
     looks at him, flicks a few into Mills' palm.  Mills chews them.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Stay as cold as ice.

     Somerset picks up his gun off a chair.  Mills picks up his gun.
     They both check them out and close them up.  They lay the guns in
     holsters at the small of their backs.

     They look at each other.  Somerset holds out his hand.  Mills
     shakes it.

     INT.  CITY STREET, PRECINCT HOUSE FRONT -- DAY

     The street is full of shadows as the sun is falling low.  At the
     front of the precinct house, a throng of reporters shifts
     anxiously.  A line of policemen holds them back.

     Martin Talbot steps out of the precinct house, cops on either
     side of him.  The press swarm lurches forward, flashbulbs
     exploding.  Talbot holds out his hands, preparing to speak.

     EXT.  CITY STREET, PRECINCT HOUSE REAR -- DAY

     At the rear of the precinct house, Somerset's car pulls out of
     the fenced in parking lot.  The car speeds up on the street and
     turns a corner, heading into the grim city.

     EXT.  SKYSCRAPER ROOFTOP -- DAY

     California is dressed in full battle gear, looking through
     binoculars to the city below.  The wind blows hard.

     A PILOT, holding two helmets, comes up behind California.  A
     sleek police helicopter sits on the roof's helipad.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Is this wind going to hurt us?

                                  PILOT
                   Just makes the ride more fun.

     The cocky pilot grins.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

     Somerset is at the wheel.  Mills is in the passenger's seat,
     looking back at John Doe through protective wire mesh.  Doe's in
     the back seat.  His handcuffs are attached to ankle cuffs by a
     length of chain.  He is dressed in gray pants and a gray shirt,
     looking out the window, sweaty but placid.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Who are you, John?  Who are you really?

     John Doe looks to Somerset's eyes in the rearview mirror.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   What do you mean?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I mean, at this point, what would it hurt
                   if you told us a little about yourself?

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (pause)
                   It doesn't matter who I am.  Who I am means
                   absolutely nothing.
                           (looking out, to Somerset)
                   You need to turn left here... at the
                   traffic light.

                                  MILLS
                   Where we headed?

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You'll see.

     Mills looks at Doe for a long time in silence.

                                  MILLS
                   We're not just going to pick up two more
                   bodies, are we, Johnny?  That wouldn't
                   be... shocking enough.  Wouldn't keep you
                   on the front page of the newspapers.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Wanting people to pay attention, you can't
                   just tap them on the shoulder.  You have to
                   hit them in the head with a sledgehammer.
                   Then, you have their strict attention.

                                  MILLS
                   What makes you so special that people
                   should pay attention?

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Not me.  I'm not special.  I'm not
                   exceptional.
                           (pause)
                   This is, though.  What I'm doing.

                                  MILLS
                   I hate to burst your bubble, but other than
                   the fact that you're especially sadistic,
                   there's nothing unusual about these
                   precious murders of yours.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You know that's not true.

                                  MILLS
                   In two months, no one's going to even
                   remember this happened.

     Doe looks down for a moment, then looks up, almost shyly.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You can't see the whole... the whole
                   complete act yet.  Not yet.  But, when this
                   is done, it's going to be... so... so...

                                  MILLS
                   Spit it out.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   It's going to be flawless.  People will
                   barely be able to comprehend it.  It will
                   seem almost surreal... but it will have a
                   tangible reality, so they won't be able to
                   deny it.

     Doe looks down, licking his lips.  He clenches his hands into
     fists, digging his bandaged fingertips into his sweaty palms.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I can't wait for you to see.  I can't
                   wait...
                           (pause, looks to Mills)
                   It's really going to be something.

                                  MILLS
                   Well, I'll be standing beside you the
                   whole time, so you be sure to let me know
                   when this whole, complete reality thing is
                   done.  Wouldn't want to miss it.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Oh, don't worry. You won't...

     INT, POLICE HELICOPTER -- DAY

     The helicopter is in flight above the city.  California is
     strapped in, hanging out the door.  He holds a high powered
     automatic rifle, wears goggles and a helmet/headset.

                                  JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                           (through headset)
                   ... you won't miss a thing.

     Two other armed cops sit in the belly of the chopper.  California
     leans in and looks up towards the pilot.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                           (into helmet microphone)
                   Head over the bridge and keep them in
                   sight.  Just keep your distance.

     The pilot looks back and nods.

     EXT.  CITY SKY -- DAY

     The chopper dips, flying like a bullet over the polluted city,
     heading towards the setting sun.

     EXT.  CITY STREETS -- DAY

     Somerset's car moves along a highway at river's edge.  Heading
     for a huge suspension bridge filled with speeding traffic ahead.

     INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY

     John Doe has his head against the window, looking up at the
     bridge, excited.  He sits back, glances out the back window, then
     faces front, bites his lip, fidgety, like a kid on Christmas Eve.

     Somerset's watching him through the rearview mirror.

                                  SOMERSET
                   What's so exciting?

                                  JOHN DOE
                   It's not too far away now.


                     [page 106. missing from script]


                                  JOHN DOE
                           (long pause)
                   I... I doubt I enjoyed it any more than...
                   Detective Mills would enjoy some time alone
                   with me in a room without windows.
                           (looks to Mills)
                   Isn't that true?  How happy would it make
                   you to hurt me, with impunity?

                                  MILLS
                           (coy mocking)
                   Now... I wouldn't do something like that,
                   Johnny.  I like you.  I like you a lot.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You wouldn't because you know there are
                   consequences.  It's in those eyes of yours,
                   though... nothing wrong with a man taking
                   pleasure in his work.
                           (pause, shakes his head)
                   I won't deny my own personal desire to turn
                   each sin against the sinner.  I only took
                   their sins to logical conclusions.

                                  MILLS
                   You only killed a bunch of innocent people
                   so you could get your rocks off.  That's
                   all.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Innocent?  Is that supposed to be funny?
                   Look at the people I killed.  An obese man,
                   a disgusting man who could barely stand
                   up... who if you saw him on the street,
                   you'd point so your friends could mock him
                   along with you.  Who if you saw him while
                   you were eating, you wouldn't be able to
                   finish  your meal.  After him I picked the
                   lawyer.  And, you both must have been
                   secretly thanking me for that one.  This
                   was a man who dedicated his life to making
                   money by lying with every breath he could
                   muster... to keeping rapists and murderers
                   on the streets.

                                  MILLS
                   Murderers?

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (ignoring)
                   A woman...

                                  MILLS
                   Murderers like you?

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (ignoring, louder)
                   A woman... so ugly on the inside that she
                   couldn't bare to go on living if she
                   couldn't be beautiful on the outside.  A
                   drug dealer... a drug dealing pederast,
                   actually.
                           (laughs at that one)
                   And, don't forget the disease spreading
                   whore.  Only in a world this shitty could
                   you even try to say these were innocent
                   people and keep a straight face.
                           (getting worked up)
                   That's the point.  You see a deadly sin on
                   almost every street corner, and in every
                   home, literally.  And we tolerate it.
                   Because it's common, it seems trivial, and
                   we tolerate, all day long, morning, noon
                   and night.  Not anymore.  I'm setting the
                   example, and it's going to be puzzled over
                   and studied and followed, from now on.

                                  MILLS
                   Delusions of grandeur.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You should be thanking me.

                                  MILLS
                   And, why is that?

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You're going to be remembered, and it's all
                   because of me.  And, the only reason I'm
                   here right now is because I wanted to be.

                                  MILLS
                   We would have gotten you eventually.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Really?  Just biding your time, then?
                   Toying with me.  Is that it?  Letting five
                   people die until you finally felt like
                   going out and hauling me in?

     Doe sits forward, slowly getting to Mills.

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (angrily)
                   Tell me what it was that gave me away.
                   What was the piece of evidence you were
                   going to use against me right before I
                   walked up to YOU and put my hands in the
                   air.

                                  MILLS
                   I seem to remember knocking on your
                   door.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   And, I remember breaking your nose.
                          (leans further forward)
                   You're only alive because I didn't
                   kill you.

                                  MILLS
                   Sit back.

     John Doe doesn't sit back, staying very close to the wire mesh.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I spared you, and you're going to have to
                   remember that every time you look in the
                   mirror at that nose on your face for the
                   rest of your life.  Or, I should say, for
                   the rest of what life I've allowed you to
                   have.

     Mills slams his fist against the mesh, fed up, furious.

                                  MILLS
                   I said, sit back, freak.  Sit back and shut
                   your fucking mouth!

     Die sits back, taking a deep breath and letting it out.

     In the front seat, Somerset shoots a concerned glance at Mills,
     then looks up into the rearview mirror.

     IN THE MIRROR: Doe, calm, gives Somerset a smile.

     Doe then turns his attention back out the passenger window,
     watching the world pass by, his face pressed to the glass.

     Mills sits forward in his seat, letting his anger come down.  Doe
     keeps staring out the window.  A long pause.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Don't ask me to pity the people I killed.
                   I don't mourn them anymore than I mourn the
                   thousands who died in Sodom and Gomorrah.

     Mills almost lets this pass, but can't.  Blunted anger:

                                  MILLS
                   You fuck.  You really think what you did
                   was God's good work?

     Pause.  John Doe is pressing his forefinger into the tip of his
     thumb, causing blood to drip from under the bandage.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   The Lord works in mysterious ways.

     EXT.  SKY -- EARLY EVENING

     The helicopter flies over huge, blackened industrial parks, past
     smokestacks spewing soot.  The sky is turning crimson.

     INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

     California leans way out looking back at the city.

     EXT.  INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset's car comes down this rocky, deserted strip, towards the
     industrial parks.  The car tosses dirt into the air where it is
     captured on the wind.

     EXT.  SKY -- EARLY EVENING

     The chopper roars, low, close to the stretch of industrial road.
     This is the only road through vast swampy fields.  The industrial
     parks are far behind.

     INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

     California still leans out, gun poised, looks over the fields.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   There ain't no ambush out here.  There
                   ain't no fucking nothing out here.

                                  PILOT (v.o.)
                           (through headset)
                   We got about two minutes before they come
                   up behind us.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Go high.  Way up.  In sixty seconds, cut to
                   the west.

     EXT.  SKY -- EARLY EVENING

     The chopper climbs, really moving.

     EXT.  INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset's car comes down the road, surrounded by marshlands.

     The car slows, then stops.  Mills gets out and goes to extract
     Doe.  Somerset gets out, looking east to the industrial parks and
     city beyond.  The sky is darkening.

     Somerset walks and looks to the west.  The sky is red.  Very far
     away, a passenger train moves towards the hidden sun.

     Somerset watches the train, walking to the edge of the roadway.
     He looks down and steps back from what he sees.

     A dead dog lies in the weeds, old and moldering.

     Somerset turns to the car, where John Doe stands with Mills.  Doe
     points with his cuffed hands to the dog, grins.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I didn't do that.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

     The wind howls, pounding on John Doe as he walks through the
     swampy field.  He walks slowly, encumbered by the deep muck and
     by the short chain between his ankles.  Mills is with Doe,
     disgusted by the ooze covering his shoes and pants cuffs.  He
     looks ahead, cautious.  Somerset walks behind them.

     Doe keeps looking back towards the car on the industrial road.

                                  MILLS
                   What are you looking for?

     Doe looks forward.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   What time is it?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Why?

     Somerset looks at his watch.  It's one minutes after seven.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I want to know.

     Mills gives Doe a shove.

     Somerset looks back towards the industrial road, worried.

                                  MILLS
                   Just keep leading the way.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   It's close.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Mills!

     Mills and Doe look back at Somerset.  Somerset is facing the
     industrial road, pointing.  A van is coming, dust flying.

     Somerset looks at Mills.  Mills looks at Somerset.  They take out
     their guns.  Somerset starts towards the road.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Stay with him.

                                  MILLS
                   Wait!

                                  SOMERSET
                   There's no time to discuss it!

     Somerset runs to head off the van.

     John Doe begins walking to follow Somerset.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   There he goes.

     Mills levels his gun at John Doe's head.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS, NEAR INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING 

     Somerset runs, breathing hard, opening the top of his
     bullet-proof vest to speak into his hidden microphone.

                                  SOMERSET
                   There's a van... coming down the industrial
                   road.  Coming from the east.

     INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

     The chopper is circling in the air, far from the marshlands with
     the sun behind it.  Another cop is in the hatchway beside
     California, looking through binoculars.

                                  SOMERSET (v.o.)
                           (from headset)
                   The van is coming form the east.  I don't
                   know what it is.  Come around.  Come
                   around.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS, NEAR INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset continues, charging through the mire.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Just get ready for anything and wait for my
                   signal.  Wait for me.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills keeps the gun on John Doe, watches Somerset far off.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   It's good we have some time to talk.

     Doe starts walking again.

                                  MILLS
                   Get down.  Get down on your knees!

     Mills grabs Doe and pushes Doe's knees out with his foot, making
     Doe kneel in the brown water.

     Mills positions himself behind Doe so that Doe is between him and
     the road.  Now, Mills can keep the gun on Mills and still watch
     Somerset.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset comes up on the road, near his car.  He signals for the
     van to stop, then fires a warning shot in the air.  The van is
     about one hundred yards away, still coming.

     Somerset walks towards it, breathless, pointing his gun.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Stop the van!  Stop!

     The van brakes, wheels sliding on the loose roadway.  Stops.
     Somerset moves up to it, staying about ten feet away.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Get out!  Get out with your hands on your
                   head!  Do it now!

     The driver of the van, a DELIVERYMAN, pushes the door open and
     slides out, slow, takes off his sunglasses.

                                  DELIVERYMAN
                   Jesus Christ, man, don't shoot me!

                                  SOMERSET
                   Turn around.  Hands on your head!

                                  DELIVERYMAN
                   What the hell's going on?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Who are you?  What are you doing out here?

                                  DELIVERYMAN
                   I'm... I'm just delivering a package.

     INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

     California listens as the chopper spins over industrial parks.

                                  DELIVERYMAN (v.o.)
                           (through headset)
                   It's just a package for this guy... David.
                   Detective David Mills.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   Motherfucker.

     The pilot looks back at California.

                                  PILOT
                   Let's do it.

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   No!  Wait for Somerset!

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills and Doe can see Somerset keeping his distance from the
     deliveryman.  The deliveryman moves to the back of the van and
     opens the van's rear door.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   When I said I admired you... I meant what I
                   said.  I do admire you.

     Mills keeps his eyes on the van, but steps up to place his gun at
     the back of Doe's head.  Pulls the hammer back.

                                  MILLS
                   Shut up.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     The deliveryman takes a brown package, about a foot square, from
     the van.

                                  DELIVERYMAN
                   This guy paid me five hundred bucks to
                   bring it out here.  He wanted it here at
                   exactly seven o'clock.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Put it down.  Put it on the ground.

                                  DELIVERYMAN
                   Okay...

     He puts it on the road and backs away, holding up his hands.

     Somerset glances into the field to see Doe on his knees with
     Mills behind him.  Somerset looks at the package.  Written on
     top: DETECTIVE DAVID MILLS -- HANDLE WITH CARE.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to deliveryman)
                   Go.  Get out of here!

     The deliveryman backs off, then scrambles into the van.  Somerset
     pulls back his bullet-proof vest and speaks into the mic.

                                  SOMERSET
                   There's a package here.  It's from John Doe.

     The van tears away.  Somerset doesn't know what to do.  He walks
     around the package, reholsters his gun.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I don't know... I don't know...

     He looks out towards Doe and Mills.

     INT.  HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

     California waits, listening, looking into the blood-red sky.

                                  SOMERSET (.o.)
                           (through headset)
                   I'm going to have to open it.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills watches Somerset kneel beside the package on the road.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I wish I could have been a normal man like
                   you.  I wish I could have a simple life.

                                  MILLS
                   What the fuck is going on here?!

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset pulls his switchblade, clicks it open.

     He cuts across the top of the box, hands shaking, cuts quickly.
     He pulls the box open, pulls at some bubble-wrap inside.

     INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

     The pilot grits his teeth.

                                  PILOT
                           (into helmet mic)
                   Let's go!

                                  CALIFORNIA
                   We are going to wait!

     California listens.

                                  SOMERSET (v.o.)
                           (through headset)
                   Oh, Christ... oh Christ...

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset stumbles backwards, away from the open box.  He is white
     as a sheet, eyes filled with numb fear.  He leans against his car
     for support, wretches, sick, holds the back of his hand to his
     mouth.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No...

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills is watching Somerset, grabs John Doe by the shirt.

                                  MILLS
                   Get up.  Stand up!  Let's go!

     Doe stands, tries to walk.  Mills is walking quickly, towards
     Somerset.  Doe can't keep up.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You've made a good life for yourself...

                                  MILLS
                   Shut up!

     Doe falls and Mills starts dragging him through the reeds.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING

     Somerset wipes saliva from his lips and tears from his eyes.  He
     takes a deep breath, looks to see Mills dragging Doe.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Oh, fuck, no...

     Somerset straightens, tries to pull himself together.  He
     swallows, draws his gun.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (into hidden mic)
                   Listen... listen to me.  Whatever you do...
                   don't come in here.  Stay away.  No matter
                   what you hear, do not move in!
                           (starts towards Mills)
                   John Doe has the upper hand.

     Somerset picks up his switchblade and flips the blade back in.
     He enters the marsh.

     EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING

     Mills sees Somerset coming and pulls Doe so that Doe stands.

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (quietly, watching)
                   Here he comes.

                                  MILLS
                           (shouts to Somerset)
                   What the fuck is going on?

                                  JOHN DOE
                           (to Mills)
                   I want you to know, I wish I could have
                   lived like you do.

     Somerset starts running towards Mills, mud splattering.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Mills... put down your gun!  Throw it away!

     Mills leaves Doe behind, walks towards Somerset, gun down.

                                  MILLS
                   What?

     Somerset is fifty yards away and closing.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Throw your gun down now!

                                  MILLS
                   What are you talking about?  What happened?

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Are you listening to me, Detective Mills?
                   I'm trying to tell you how much I admire
                   you... and your pretty wife Tracy.

     Mills freezes, turns to Doe.  Doe smiles.  Somerset is close.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Throw your weapon, detective!  Now!

                                  MILLS
                           (to John Doe)
                   What did you say?

                                  JOHN DOE
                   It's surprising how easily a member of the
                   press can purchase information from the men
                   in your precinct.

                                  SOMERSET
                   David... please...

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I visited your home this morning, after you
                   left.

     Mills is filled with an aching terror.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   I tried to play husband... tried to taste
                   the life of a simple man, but it didn't
                   work out. So, I took a souvenir.

     Mills turns to look at Somerset with pleading eyes.  Somerset
     holds out his hand.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Give me the gun.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Her pretty head.

                                  MILLS
                   Somerset...

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Because I envy your normal life.  Envy is
                   my sin.

     Somerset can't hold back tears.

     Fury rises in Mill and he turns to level his gun at John Doe.

     Somerset raises his gun and points it at Mills.

                                  SOMERSET
                   No!

     Mills sees Somerset's gun, raises his gun to Somerset.

                                  MILLS
                   Tell me it's not true.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I can't let you do this...

     Mills steps forward, enraged.

                                  MILLS
                   Put your gun down!!

                                  SOMERSET
                   Don't do this... please...

                                  MILLS
                   Put the gun down, Somerset!

     A pause.  Somerset's gun hand is trembling.  The wind whips
     across them.  The HELICOPTER can be HEARD distantly.  Somerset
     throws his gun down.

                                  SOMERSET
                   David, listen to me...

     Mills goes to grab John Doe by the throat and puts the gun to
     Doe's forehead, blind with rage.

     Somerset holds his hand behind his back, opens his switchblade.

                                  SOMERSET
                   He wants this!  He wants you to do it!

     Doe is staring into Mills' eyes with wild expectation.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   Kill me.

     Doe lowers his head, waiting for execution.

     Mills holds the gun at Doe's head, undecided, furious.

     Somerset edges towards them.

                                  MILLS
                           (looks to Somerset)
                   Stop it!  You stay away!

     Somerset moves the switchblade so he's holding it by the blade,
     ready to throw, keeping it hidden.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I can't let you do this!

     Mills kicks Doe and throws him backwards on the ground.  The
     HELICOPTER is CLOSER.

     Mills stands over Doe and points the gun.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   She begged for her life, and for the life
                   of your baby inside her.

     Mills' face fills with confusion -- then a wave of horror.

     Doe's eyes register shock.

                                  JOHN DOE
                   You didn't know.

                                  SOMERSET
                   NO!

     Somerset brings his hand out to throw the blade, but Mills reacts
     to the movement, turns on Somerset and fires -- BLAM!

     Somerset flies backwards in the air, bullet exploding into his
     shoulder, just above the bullet-proof vest's opening.

     Somerset hits the ground, crying out, bloody, writhing.

     Mills turns the gun on John Doe.

     INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING

     The chopper is over the marshland.  California is leaning out
     with his rifle.  He cringes from the sounds as FROM HIS HEADSET
     is HEARD:  BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM.

     INSERT -- TITLE CARD

     TWO WEEKS LATER

     INT.  HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY

     Somerset sits in a wheelchair.  He is dressed in a hospital gown.
     His upper chest and shoulder are wrapped in bandages.  He stares
     out the window at the city's buildings.

                                  CAPTAIN (o.s)
                   Hey there, Somerset.

     Somerset turns to see the captain.  Somerset looks weak, older.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Hello.

     The captain walks in, carrying something behind his back.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   How you feeling?

                                  SOMERSET
                   I can breathe without pain now, so I guess
                   I feel great.

     Somerset musters a lame smile.  The captain sits on the bed.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   The guys at the precinct heard you're
                   getting out today.  Anyway, we all chipped
                   in...

     The captain takes a big tool belt full of tools from behind his
     back.  He hands it over.  Somerset looks at it and lays it on his
     lap.  He smiles for real.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Thank you.  Tell them, thank you.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   We figure you need all the tools you can
                   get to fix up that piece of shit you call a
                   house.

                                  SOMERSET
                   Yeah, that's true.

     Somerset continues examining the tools.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   They're hoping you stop and say goodbye
                   before you go, but I told them not to
                   expect it.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (not looking up)
                   It would be too hard.

     The captain stands.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   I have to get going, but... there is one
                   more thing.

     Somerset looks up.  The captain takes a letter from his pocket.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   I don't know if you're going to want it.
                   It was down front.  It's from Mills.

     Somerset pauses, then puts out his hand to take it.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   He's being arraigned tomorrow.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I read about it in the paper.

     Somerset just looks at the letter.

                                  CAPTAIN
                   I guess... decide for yourself.  I don't
                   know what it says.  I'm going to go.

                                  SOMERSET
                   I'll see you.

     The captain nods and walks into the hall.

     Somerset wheels back to the window.  He looks at the letter.
     Pause.  He opens it.  Unfolds the paper inside.

     The note reads:
     YOU WERE RIGHT.  YOU WERE
     RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.

     Somerset closes the note, upset.

     INT.  HOSPITAL, MAIN NURSES' STATION -- DAY

     Somerset is in street clothes.  He signs a form at the busy front
     desk.  A NURSE takes the form and hands Somerset a large manila
     envelope.

                                  NURSE
                   There you go, Mister Somerset.

     "Mister" causes Somerset to look strangely at the nurse.

                                  NURSE
                   Yes?

                                  SOMERSET
                   Nothing.

     EXT.  HOSPITAL -- DAY

     Somerset comes down the stairs, slowly, tired.  He holds the
     manila envelope and a small suitcase.  The streets are busy with
     pedestrians and traffic.

     He walks down the sidewalk.

     He puts down the suitcase and opens the manila envelope to look
     inside.  He sorts through the contents, takes out his keys and
     puts them in his pocket.

     He reaches in the envelope again, and takes out the square of
     wallpaper with the pale, red rose on it.  There is some dried
     blood on the paper.  Somerset lays the envelope on the ground
     beside the suitcase.

     He looks at the rose, tries to scratch off the blood.

     He looks up, squinting from the sun, at the city bustling around
     him.  At the tight canyon formed by the buildings.

     At the cars, buses and taxis racing in the streets.

     At a man, talking to himself, who lies on the sidewalk,
     surrounded by garbage.

     At the people, miserable people, walking past him.

     Somerset takes out the note from Mills: YOU WERE RIGHT.  YOU WERE
     RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.

     A father passes by, holding his young son's hand.  Somerset turns
     to watch them pass.  The father reaches to pick the son up and
     carry him in his arms.  The boy laughs and holds tight.

     The father hugs his son to him, kisses him on the cheek.  The boy
     returns the kiss with great affection.

     Somerset watches them disappear in the mass of humanity.  He
     looks back at the two papers in his hands.  He lets out a sigh.

                                  SOMERSET
                           (to himself)
                   Oh... man...

     He sighs again, drained.

     He puts the pale paper rose inside the note from Mills.  He folds
     them together.

     He tears them both up, into little pieces.

     EXT.  PRECINCT HOUSE -- DAY

     Cars roll by in the street.  Cops come and go.

     Somerset walks up the stairs, into the precinct house.  The doors
     shut behind him.



     END