Screen Play


Ardel Wray

From the Novel BLACK ALIBI by Cornell Woolrich

                                                       FADE IN

               On the fountain at El Pueblo. A jet of waiter rises into the
               air at regular intervals, tossing an empty ball in rhythm.
               Below the ball, the water cascades into the second tier of
               the fountain. SUPERIMPOSED over this fountain are the main
               and credit titles. Throughout the running of the titles we
               hear castanet music growing louder and louder. When the last
               credit title FADE OFF we begin to


               The corridor, backstage at El Pueblo. An empty corridor
               stretches away before us. The CAMERA TRUCKS ALONG this
               corridor. The sound of the castanets is so loud and ringing
               now that it has a furious and stormlike quality. The camera
               seems to search for the source of this sound. It approaches
               two open doorways at the end of the corridor.

               Through the doorway on the right we see a dancer in Spanish
               costume. She pirouettes in a final whirl of the dance as the
               CAMERA MOVES IN TO a CLOSE SHOT of her beautiful back and the
               two castanets she holds up over her gleaming naked shoulders.
               Over the diminishing trill of the castanets, as the dancer
               finishes her dance we hear a dull and angry pounding. The
               castanets click to an end.

               The CAMERA MOVES LEFT to take in the adjoining door to show
               us the source of this sound.


               Kiki Walker as she finishes pounding on the wall for silence
               in the adjoining dressing room and turns back into her own
               room. She is young, blonde and represents that peculiar
               phenomenon of our time, the chorus girl and entertainer who
               is more lady-like than the majority of Junior Leaguers. Road
               shows, one night stands and even a short turn in burlesque
               have left no battle scars. She may know many a hard word, but
               she never uses it.

               MED. SHOT - Kiki's room. Kiki slams shut the door of her
               dressing room. Her dressing room is a small bare cubicle with
               a sink, easy chair, dressing table and a long mirror on the
               closet door. On the dressing table, among a clutter of jars
               and ointments, is a small musical trinket box. The closet
               door is partially ajar.

               In the room with Kiki is Eloise, the cigarette girl at the El
               Pueblo, a brightly blondined young lady. Her nether limbs are
               well display in black stockings. A cigarette tray is slung
               over her shoulder.

                             (as she walks
                             across the
                         It may sound like music to her
                         -- I can do better with my teeth in
                         a cold Shower.
                         Click — click — click.

                         She's a local. When the dudes come
                         out to New Mexico, they went to
                         wallow in Latin glamour. This is a
                         bad town for blondes.

                         Yes. So I've noticed. Jerry's
                         noticed -— He'll come up with

                         You think be's pretty nice, don't

                         Why not? He's a good press agent
                         and a good friend. Besides, we've
                         shared a lot of headaches ——

                         You're lucky. I wish he'd front
                         page for me.

                         Maybe. For three years I've sung in
                         rats' nests, while Jerry pounded
                         his feet off and his brains out --
                         trying to get me a real chance.
                         We're due for a little luck!

               Kiki walks across to the make-up table and sits down in front
               of it, lifting her hands to unwrap the towel which is wrapped
               around her head to protect it from make-up. Eloise starts
               toward the door, but pauses to admire herself in the mirror,.

                         I don't mean this personally, Miss
                         Walker, but it's ironic —-

               She pauses, striking a pose the better to look at her own
               sleek legs in the minor.

                         I mean you being a star and me
                         being just a cigarette girl.

                             (turning from
                             (the mirror to
                             look at Eloise)
                         I know. I know. You've got the
                         talent. I got the breaks.

               She turns back to the mirror.

               NED. CLOSE REFLECTION SHOT of Eloise. We see Eloise admiring
               herself in the long mirror and also the edge of the dressing
               room door as it slowly begins to swing open.

                                   KIKI'S VOICE
                         I hear it in night club.

               Eloise can see what is opening the door. She lets loose with
               a shriek of mortal terror.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Kiki. She whirls quickly and rises, her
               mouth open in a soundless ejaculation of fright.

               REVERSE SHOT - the door. Through the doorway comes the black,
               spade-shaped head of a panther, ears wickedly flat, muzzle to
               the floor. He starts into the room with a terrifying zigzag
               undulation. Eloise yips feebly. Kiki screams.

               As the panther advances into the room, one can see that it is
               held on a taut leash. Holding the leash is Jerry Manning,
               with a wide, pleasant smile of reassurance on his lips.

               CLOSE SHOT Kiki on top of the dressing table. She stands
               there holding her dressing gown back across her knees in
               terror. The little jewel box has fallen to the floor, and the
               insipid tinkling tune fills the room as it rolls across the
               floor toward the panther.

               MED. SHOT - Kiki, Eloise, Jerry and the panther. Kiki stands
               on top of the dressing table; Eloise has retreated behind a
               chair, and Jerry stands between them, grinning, holding the
               leash of the panther, which is nosing forward to examine the
               music box

                             (hitting high C)
                         Get it out of here!

                         Kiki -- he won't hurt you. There's
                         nothing to be afraid of.

                         Makes no difference. Get him out!

                         Listen, Kicks, you'll never guess
                         what I've cooked up this tine...

                         That's easy. Me. 

                         I thought -- is Kiki just going to
                         walk on that floor tonight ——walk
                         out cold before a bunch of gawks
                         who think a Spanish twirler is the
                         greatest thing in life. No. Not my
                         favorite client. She's going to
                         make an entrance this town will
                         never forget!

                             (pointing to the leopard)
                         On his back, I suppose.

                             (kidding her)
                         No. I thought that might be just a
                         little corny. I want you to lead
                         him in on a leash.

                         You're too good to me.

                         Look, Kicks, have I ever done
                         anything to hurt you?

                         No —- not yet.

                             (quite sincerely and with
                              evident affection)
                         And I never will- you know
                         what's between us — we're a thing 
                         But this is serious competition.

               ALTERNATE SCENE

                             (hitting high C)
                         Get it out of here!

                         Kiki - he won't hurt you. There's
                         nothing to be afraid of.

                         Makes no difference.  Get him out.

                         Listen, Kicks, you'll never guess
                         what I've cooked up this time.

                         That's easy. Me.

                         I thought -— is Kiki just going to
                         walk on that floor tonight walk out
                         cold before a bunch of gawks who
                         think a Spanish twirler is the
                         greatest thing in life. No. Not my
                         favorite client. She's going to
                         make an entrance  this town will
                         never forget.

                             (pointing to the
                         On his back, I suppose.

                             (kidding her)
                         No. I thought that might be just a
                         little corny.  I want you to lead
                         him in on a leash.

                         You're too good to me.

                         Look, Kicks, how long have we known
                         each other?

                         This is l939. Can't you subtract?

                         Almost three years, isn't it? And
                         have I ever done anything to hurt

                         No —— not yet.

                             (quite sincerely and
                             with evident affection)
                         And I never will -- you know what's
                         between us -— we're a thing -- But
                         this is serious -- big competition.


                             (indicating leopard)
                         I thought you might strut this
                         kitten in right in the middle of
                         her act.

               Kiki grins. Jerry reaches for Kiki's hand, and passes the end
               of the leash over her fingers.

                         Come down to earth— and see what a
                         picture you'd make with this for a

               Keeping a wary eye on the leopard, Kiki lets Jerry help her
               down. She stands as far away from the beast as the leash will

                             (warily, from behind the
                         And if you've got cold feet honey,
                         Ill take over for you. That red
                         dress of yours fits just perfect on

                             (exasperated, turning to
                         I bet you try on my coffin some day
                         -- I hope it "fits just perfect."

                             (hastily to Kiki)
                         You look swell in that three—alarm
                         number --

                         The red dress?
                             (thinks a moment)
                         No. My black one. Then I'll be just
                         like him.

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:


               CL0SE SHOT - the fountain. The CAMERA is FOCUSED on the
               extreme height of the jet of water. We watch the ball on top
               of this jet as it rises and falls for a few beats. Over this
               shot we hear the music of a Mexican orchestra.

               The CAMERA MOVES DOWN and BACK to reveal the upper tier of
               the fountain with the water flowing over its edges. 

               The CAMERA MOVES BACK and we see the wide pool at the base of
               the fountain. In this pool we see Clo-Clo reflected, as she

               The CAMERA PANS to take in the actual dancer and we see Clo
               Clo whirling and turning in a tight circle. She is
               illuminated by several baby spots concealed at the base

               of the fountain, and this light makes a nimbus of light
               around her. It is a sort of superaura which washes out the
               background haze, leaving the dancer clear-cut and sharp in
               the midst of this superaura.

               As Clo-Clo's dance widens in movement, taking her to the edge
               of the light nimbus, we can see her, the tables and the
               patrons of El Pueblo.

               The El Pueblo cafe is the smartest night club in this small
               New Mexican resort town. The main dining room is in the
               patio. Here are tables mantled in snowy tablecloths,
               glittering candlelight and sparkling glassware. On the porch
               is an open space for the performers and the orchestra on one
               side  On the other side is a bar.

               Tonight, El Pueblo is crowded. Waiters, dressed in rather
               formal costumes with black trousers and short, white coats,
               scurry between the tables. A good portion of -the patrons are
               in evening clothes.

               Clo—Clo dances. The rhythmic rattle of her castanets beat out
               above the orchestra.

               Clo-Clo is New Mexican. Like the broncos of her native state,
               she is all fine, proud, pure Spanish blood. It has suffered a
               change in the high clear air of New Mexico. In her dance,
               too, we see the more primeval strain of the Indian twisted
               among the finer threads of Spanish rhythm.

               She dances. In the pool we see the heavy flutter and turn of
               her skirt. Her neck, her bosom, her arms, bend and sway and
               turn and pulse with the bloodbeat of the castanets. She is
               just entering a graceful turn of the dance, the castanets
               beginning a glissade, when suddenly she stops dead, the click
               of the castanets cutting off abruptly.

               REVERSE SHOT - the doorway leading into the El Pueblo. Framed
               in this doorway is Kiki, slim and tall in a black gown with
               black gloves, and in her outstretched hand is a black leash
               which links her to the leopard. Behind her the doorway is hot
               with light so that we see her dramatic outline, a silhouette
               against luminosity.

               MED. LONG SHOT - the cafe. A buzz of amazement sounds from
               the crowd. There is a flutter of astonishment and timidity.

               CLOSEUP of Clo—Clo.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Kiki. Behind her in the doorway Jerry
               Manning's face appears. It is obvious that Kiki, despite her
               dramatic pose, is surreptitiously nervous.

                             (sotto voce)
                         Don't stand here, Kiki. You're on
                         stage. They're looking at you.

               Kiki moves majestically forward.

               MED. LONG SHOT — a table near the dance space. Kiki, the
               leopard moving before her, threads her way between two
               tables, the patrons drawing away from her black escort as she
               passes. A waiter, carefully holding the chair between him and
               the leopard, makes a place for her at an empty table.

               Clo—Clo, feet wide apart, arms and hands still half raised
               and holding the castanets, watches. The orchestra plays
               feebly on.

               Suddenly Clo—Clo smiles. She lifts her hands a little higher,
               takes a step forward and lets the castanets loose with a roll
               that sounds like machine—gun fire. The leopard startled,:
               twists in a half turn of fright, strains suddenly at the
               leash and lunges forward. The leash pulls out of Kiki's
               frightened hand.

               REFLECTION SHOT in the pool. The still water reflects the
               quick bound and leap of the leopard in its panic flight for

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Kiki. She stands leaning against the table,
               trembling in fright. Behind her Clo—Clo can be seen can be
               seen on the platform, smiling. Jerry comes into the scene,
               puts his arm about Kiki's waist.

                         Are you all right?

                             (wildly, and
                             in disgust)
                         Now look what you've done.

               The familiar tone of anger reassures Jerry.

                         You are all right.

               MED. SHOT - the leopard bounding through the gate.

               MED. SHOT at the gate. A waiter with a napkin over his arm
               and a water carafe in his hand, stands aghast, pressing his
               back to the wall in fear. The water carafe falls with a
               crash. The waiter holds up his hand, dazed. His hand is
               streaming with blood.



               SHOT of four policemen, their backs toward us, going through
               the Alley of the Shadows. Two of them are beating on pots and
               pans to make a noise. Two others are flashing their
               flashlights from one side to the other.

               We TRUCK WITH them down the alley. They bring us to the open
               end of the passage, athwart which a fire truck is parked.
               Near this fire truck stands the Chief of Police, Robles, a
               dignified, well—spoken, Mexican police officer, serious and
               conscientious, very much on duty at all times.

                                   ONE OF THE POLICEMEN
                         No leopard, Chief -- no cat, no
                         kittens, nothing. We're going to
                         tackle the houses 

               Robles nods. He makes a gesture to one of the men on the fire
               truck and two long lances of light pierce the darkness of the

               LONG SHOT - Pasaje De Las Sombras. The shafts of light from
               the searchlights cross and re-cross, moving, as they explore
               the dark jags and corners of the alley. It is one of the
               oldest streets in town, so narrow that even at noonday, the
               sun has difficulty lightening its dark shadows. The adobe
               houses, standing wall to wall, were never built on any
               straight geometric line; the street makes a dog-leg,
               meandering, as if loathe to reach its own blind end.

               MED. LONG SHOT — the mouth of the alley at the other side of
               the fire truck. This is a-scene of curiosity and confusion. A
               police cordon has been erected, and several uniformed Mexican
               policemen are busy shooing away the spectators, foiling the
               attempts of small boys to get under the ropes, and generally
               trying to reduce chaos to an ordered hunt for the leopard.

               At the mouth of the alley, next to the fire truck is parked a
               curious conveyance, a half-ton truck with a gaudy sign which

               THE LEOPARD MAN

               Leaning against a fender of this vehicle is Jerry Manning,
               hot, disheveled and excited. He is talking with a short
               Indian, Charlie How—Come, dressed in Levis, a velvet Zuni
               jacket, and with a battered felt hat on his coarse black

                                   CHARLIE HOW-COME 
                         Remember what you said: Ten bucks
                         for the loan of my cat —-two
                         hundred and twenty-five if anything
                         happened to it.

               Jerry tries to control his exasperation.

                             (with strained patience)
                         But nothing has happened to it. It
                         got into this alley, and there's no
                         way out of it. They'll find it.

                                   CHARLIE HOW-COME
                         You don't get the idea, Mister.
                         These cops banging those pans,
                         flashing those lights -— they're
                         going to scare that poor cat of
                         mine, Cats are funny. They don't
                         want to hurt you -- but if you
                         scare them -— they go crazy. These
                         cops don't know what they're doing.

               A little Mexican boy who has seen listening to the
               conversation between Jerry and Charlie, is suddenly attracted
               by something off in the darkness. Grinning, he turns on the
               hand flashlight he is holding and points it off into the
               darkness of the alley.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Clo-Clo's legs. The flashlight picks up a
               pair of shapely legs and holds on them as they move forward,
               The legs stop their walking motion and suddenly begin to
               stamp with the heel taps that are part of her dance. The
               light snaps off.

               MED. SHOT - Jerry and Charlie. Clo—Clo comes in from the
               left. She grins at the men.

                             (to Jerry)
                         Maybe, Mr. Manning would like to
                         help me? I do not need a leopard. I
                         have talent.

               Jerry is furious and about to make some retort. Clo—Clo
               laughs and takes her hands from her pockets. She is holding
               her castanets, and a ribald rattle drowns anything Jerry
               might want to say.

                             (moving off)
                         Goodnight, Mr. Publicity Man.

               Jerry glares after her.

               EXT.  FLOWER SHOP - NIGHT

               This is a small flower shop. One or two vases hold wilted
               flowers which have been left in the display window. Behind
               them is a mirror. In this mirror we can see the mouth of the
               alley and Clo-Clo as she walks away from the men and comes
               toward the flower shop.

               EXT. STREET - NIGHT

               Clo—Clo passes the flower shop and continues on.

               The CAMERA TRUCKS WITH her. She passes several dark doorways
               and comes abreast of a dimly lit shop. Behind the grimy
               window of this store is a large hand—lettered sign:
               HAND OR CARD

               From the dark doorway of this store, a voice calls out.

                                   MARIA'S VOICE
                         Why are you hurrying, Clo-Clo?

                             (with a derisive twitter
                              of her castanets)
                         Oh, it's you. Faker!

               Suddenly a white, thin hand and arm appears from the shadows
               of the doorway. The hand holds a deck of cards, extending
               them toward Clo-Clo temptingly.

                                   MARIA'S VOICE
                         Take a card, Clo-Clo. See what the
                         night holds for you.

               Clo-Clo hesitates. Looks at the deck of cards.

                         Your cards are a joke. I wouldn't
                         give you a centavo.

               She starts to move away.

                                   MARIA'S VOICE
                         One card Clo—Clo -- for nothing.

               Clo-Clo stops. Pretending indifference, she casually reaches
               out and takes a card.

               INSERT	ACE OF SPADES in Clo-Clo's hand.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Clo—Clo as she stares at the card. She
               laughs and flips the card back into the darkness of the
               doorway, letting the castanets in her other hand speak of her


               She starts off along the street.

               CAMERA TRUCKS WITH her. She passes an open doorway. In the
               shadow lounges a tall thin man, his figure merging with the
               darkness. He is smoking. We can see the glow of his

                             (in passing)
                         Hello, Shorty.

               The man disregards a verbal reply, but blows a smoke ring
               toward her. She pokes' her index finger through the ring
               playfully and goes on.

               The CAMERA MOVES WITH her. In the area way of the next
               building are two lovers, pressed close to each other and
               close to the wall..

                         Oo! Oo!

                                   THE GIRL

               Clo-Clo goes on. From a window a young girl is peeping,
               looking up and down the street with large frightened eye a.

                         Hello, Chiquita.

                             (smiling back, a little
                         Hello, Clo-Clo.

               Clo-Clo goes on, but our CAMERA REMAINS. This is Teresa
               Delgado, a wisp of a young girl, whose childish, smooth face
               might go unnoticed if it were not for her enormous and
               wistful dark eyes. She has on a skimpy cotton dress drawn in
               at the waist with a five-and-ten cent store belt. Having
               looked again up and down the street she pulls down the sash
               and turns back into the room.

               INT. DELGADO HOUSE - NIGHT

               The Delgado house is typical of the poorer Mexican homes in
               New Mexico. This main room, which is small, serves as living
               room, bedroom and kitchen. An Indian blanket covers the
               doorway into the only other room. The adobe walls are
               plastered with pictures of religious subjects.
               The wooden floor is bare. There is a charcoal-burning brasero
               in one corner. Pots and pans on the hearth of the fireplace
               show that it is a supplementary stove, The rest of the
               furniture consists of an iron bedstead, a large and hideous
               oak table and an open-faced china cabinet which contains the
               Delgado treasures.

               Pedro, Teresa's nine-year-old brother is seated at the oak
               table, eating from a bowl of frijoles. He is, and looks like,
               an imp. Teresa is backing away from her mother, who turns
               away from the window to face her angrily.

                             (evidently resuming
                             a discussion)
                         But, Mamacita -- why can't Pedro go
                         this time? I'm so tired...

                         I'm too young.

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         If your father comes home and there
                         are no tortillas, he will shout ——
                         and tomorrow it will be all over
                         town: the family of Juan Delgado is
                         too poor to buy corn meal! Do you
                         wish we should be so disgraced?

               Teresa shakes her head, but makes no move to go. Exasperated,
               Sra. Delgado reaches for the nearest weapon -- the broom.

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         Then go!

               Sra. Delgado brandishes the broom toward Teresa, who backs up

                         I know what she's afraid of...

               Pedro lifts his hand. It casts a sharp shadow on the wall
               behind him. Watching the shadow, he manipulates his fingers
               so as to create the shadow of a leopard's head in miniature.

                                   PEDRO (CONT'D)

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         And what, por todos los santos, is

               Teresa braves the threatening broom and moves a step toward
               her mother.

                             (eager to be believed)
                         The leopard, Mamacita. They say a
                         lady at the El Pueblo had it on a
                         string and it ran away. It hasn't
                         been found yet...

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         A leopard?

                         They're big -- and they jump on

               Pedro jumps the shadow on the wall, to simulate the leap of a

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         Did you ever meet one of those
                         things yet when you went to the
                         store for me?

               Teresa swallows, shakes her head mutely.

                                   SRA. DELGADO
                         Then you won't meet one this time
                         either! Now get out! Do as I told

               Sra. Delgado gives the broom such a backward swing of final
               purpose that Teresa hurriedly opens the door behind her and
               slinks out backwards -- her big liquid dark eyes, still
               futilely pleading, the last to disappear. Sra. Delgado moves
               after her, pushing the door closed.

               She puts the broom in the corner and goes to where Pedro is
               seated. Here she stands a moment, fondly watching him as he
               masticates his beans. Behind her the door stealthily opens.
               Teresa tries to sneak back into the room. Mamacita sees the
               movement and makes a tempestuous rush toward her, but Teresa
               sidles out of the door before she can be caught. Mamacita,
               muttering, slams the door shut and with difficulty pushes the
               heavy, rust-covered iron bolt into place.


               Teresa stands outside the door. We hear the heavy bolt inside
               driven home forcibly.

                                   SRA. DELGADO'S VOICE
                         Now —— you will not come in again,
                         not until you bring the corn meal
                         with you!


               Teresa steps down from the single doorstep outside her house.
               She crosses her arms and pulls her shoulders together in a
               gesture of fear. She looks once, despairingly, at the closed
               door behind her —— and then reluctantly steps out into the
               dirt road and starts walking.


               Only a large corner window, with the word. "Provisiones"
               printed on it shows that this ordinary house is a grocery
               store. In the moonlight, one can see a few boxes of groceries
               stacked on shelves inside. Teresa comes up to the window and
               peers in. She knocks on the window.

                         Senora Calderon It is Teresa,
                         Senor. Teresa Delgado.

               Over Teresa's shoulder, we see the interior of the little
               store light up dimly as a curtain is pulled at the back of
               the room. Beyond the curtain is revealed another room,
               brightly lit by a bare electric globe hanging from the
               ceiling on a cord. Under the light, a man sits at a table,
               heartily eating from a plate heaped with food. The curtain
               has been pulled back by Senora Calderon. We see her only in
               silhouette and the details of her face and figure are
               indistinguishable. We do see, however, that her long black
               hair is down her back and she is braiding it. She walks a
               little ways into the darkened store.

                                   SRA. CALDERON
                             (speaking loudly to be
                              heard through the window)
                         The store is closed.

                         I just want a sack of corn meal for
                         my father's supper!

                                   SRA. CALDERON

                         It'll just take a second. ..Please
                         ——or I must go clear across the
                         Arroyo to the big grocery --

               Teresa taps against the window hopefully. But Sra. Calderon
               turns back toward the doorway into the inner room, where the
               solitary feaster hasn't even bothered to look up during this

                                   SRA. CALDERON
                             (as she goes)
                         It means taking off the lock again,
                         putting on the light, measuring the
                         meal. It's too much trouble. Once I
                         close, I close!

               Sm. Calderon steps into the inner room and draws the curtain
               closed behind her, as she speaks the last words. Again the
               store is in darkness -- only a rim of light showing around
               the edges of the curtained doorway.

                             (quietly — hopelessly)

               There is no reply. Teresa turns away.

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. EDGE OF ARROYO - NIGHT

               The Arroyo is a deep narrow cut in the mesa, bone—dry in this
               season. Its floor of bleached sand and weeds stretches
               desolately wider a vast moonlit sky. Here and there,
               children's feet have scuffed steep little trails down the

               Teresa appears at the top of one of these trails. She looks
               down into the Arroyo -- and then off to the right.

               A distance down the Arroyo is a bridge which carries a train
               track across the dry river bed. To divert the rush of rain
               water in winter and spring, the bridge is underpropped by two
               slanting stone piers. They stand out like ribs against the
               blackness of the underpass, which they divide into three

               Teresa's face shows her dread of the Arroyo. She turns back
               the way she came, takes a step away, hesitates and then
               returns to the edge of the bank.
               She starts down the little trail, her feet sliding in the
               loose sand and a shower of pebbles bouncing down ahead of

               EXT.	ARROYO FLOOR — NIGHT

               Teresa stands at the bottom of the bank. She looks off to the
               bridge again. Then she starts walking forward slowly, a very
               little figure in the large loneliness of the night.


               Teresa comes up to the face of the underpass with its three
               openings. She stares from one black tunnel mouth to another.
               She glances behind her, then looks at the underpass again.
               Teresa goes forward again, toward the middle tunnel.


               The roof of the underpass is only a little higher than
               Teresa's head and the passage is not more than ten feet wide.
               The opening is dimly lit by the moonlight, but beyond it is
               dense blackness. Teresa enters slowly. She takes a few steps
               toward the blackness —- and stops. She listens. Teresa moves
               forward again, walking as lightly as possible. The light dims
               rapidly, so that after Teresa has taken a half dozen steps,
               she is swallowed up in complete blackness.

               The CAMERA HOLDS for a moment on the dark underpass before
               Teresa emerges from the blackness on the West side. A light
               scratching sound is heard. Teresa's eyes widen in panic as
               she hears it and she hurries out of the tunnel, watching
               fearfully ever her left shoulder. She must cut across in
               front of this other tunnel in order to get to the south bank.
               She starts across, never taking her eyes off the black tunnel
               mouth. Suddenly she gives a convulsive start and a little cry
               escapes before she can control it. A shadowy shape, low to
               the ground, detaches itself from the dimness of the tunnel
               opening and moves toward her. Almost at once, we see that it
               is a large tumbleweed, blowing clown the Arroyo in the wind.
               Teresa sighs soundlessly and goes on to the foot of the bank.
               She starts scrambling up another steep little path.



               This is a fairly good—sized room, lined with shelves and
               counters. A tall, Indian-type Mexican with iron-grey hair
               puts a paper sack of cornmeal on the counter in front of

               She starts toward the door, but noticing a bronze cage with
               two toy birds in it, a mechanical device which has stood
               there for years, she goes toward it, puts down her sack of
               corn meal and goes up close.

                         Oh, the toy birds!

                         You've seen them before. I couldn't
                         chase you away from the counter
                         when you were a little girl.

               She winds up the bird cage.

                         I'd forgotten them.

                             (smiling, goodhumoredly,
                         Every day you see them --and you
                         have forgotten them? Oh, I remember
                         my little Teresita -- I remember
                         the little girl who was afraid of
                         the dark. They shouldn't send you.

               The birds have begun to sing,a highly mechanical rendering of
               a bird song.

                         I'm not afraid. What could happen
                         to me?

               The birds sing and she pretends to listen. Manuel leans
               against the inner door of the grocery watching her, smiling
               and amused. Finally his smiling irks her into action. She
               picks up her sack of corn meal.

                                   TERESA (CONT'D)
                             (as she
                             starts off)
                         I'll pay you tomorrow.

                         Never fear - - next time you come.
                         The poor don't cheat one another.
                         We're all poor together.

               In the bronze cage the two birds continue to sing their
               mechanical song. Their heads turn from side to side.
               We hear the door close behind Teresa. The birds are still
               singing as we



               There is a sound of slow, measured dripping. It comes from
               water seeping out between two rocks and dropping onto another
               rock below. These rocks are piled up at the juncture of the
               bridge and the left bank and the water is evidently leaking
               from some water main or sews go pipe running under the
               highway overhead.


               Teresa is approaching the entrance of the middle tunnel, She
               is evidently scared —- her footsteps are lagging and she
               holds the sack of corn meal in both hands, as if feeling its
               weight. She looks fearfully at the black tunnel before her
               and comes to a standstill, trying to peer into the blackness.
               In the silence, the dripping of the water can be heard.
               Teresa looks up and to the left to locate the sound. She sees
               the shining dampness on the rocks. She turns back to the
               middle tunnel before her -- and, drawing a deep breath of
               resolution, starts to enter it. But she hesitates and then,
               suddenly, veers over to the left. She peers into the opening
               of that tunnel.


               The wall of the tunnel is also damp with the seepage from
               above. It reflects the outer moonlight in glistening streaks,
               so that the blackness here is not so complete as in the other


               Teresa gets a fresh grip on the bag of corn meal by shifting
               her hands under it -- and walks into the entrance of the
               north tunnel.

               INT. NORTH TUNNEL - NIGHT

               Again, the crunching sound of Teresa's footsteps are
               magnified in the enclosure of the tunnel walls. It is very
               dim, but the luminosity of the damp wall casts a faint light
               on Teresa, reflecting in her wide, frightened eyes. She walks
               slowly and lightly, her eyes going from side to side in the
               darkness, her neck and head held rigidly. Suddenly she stops
               with a sharp intake of breath, Ahead of her and to her left
               are two tiny gleams of light. Teresa backs away from them. As
               she does so, they seem to fall and vanish.
               Slowly Teresa moves forward again, staring at the place where
               the lights had been. As she moves parallel to the spot, they
               appear again. A half-cry dies away in her throat --she sees
               that the gleams are two drops of seepage, trickling down the
               side of the tunnel wall. Teresa half closes her eyes and
               sways a little, faint with fear. Then she forces herself to
               move forward again. She takes one -- two fearful steps -- and
               then the underpass reverberates with a sudden tremendous
               shock of sound -— more a giant vibration than actual noise.
               It is a train passing overhead.

               INT. NORTH TUNNEL - NIGHT

               As Teresa stands transfixed, the terrific roar continues.
               Second after second, flashes of light as brilliant as
               lightning illuminate the interior of the tunnel — the
               reflections thrown into the Arroyo by the train windows. And
               then, as abruptly as it began, the noise ceases. It is
               cavernously dark in the tunnel again. In this thick
               stillness, Teresa walks forward once more.


               In the frame of the tunnel opening, Teresa stands for a
               moment. Behind her, there is a new sound -- a mere whisper of
               sound carried forward on the light wind. A little shower of
               rubble falls from the top of the concrete pier. Teresa turns
               to look behind her.

               Crouched on one of the piers of the trestle -— and seen only
               very dimly in the darkness -- is the leopard, looking down
               into the Arroyo.

               An enormous big HEAD CLOSEUP of Teresa.

               An enormous big HEAD CLOSEUP of the leopard, its clear golden
               eyes fixed and staring.

               EXT. ARROYO FLOOR - NIGHT

               Teresa's nails dig into the paper sack of corn meal and
               little trickles of the meal start spilling from the slits.
               Her eyes widen and her face falls slack from the horrible
               shock of what she sees. She turns and runs.

               EXT  EDGE OF ARROYO - NIGHT

               Teresa scrambles frantically up over the edge of the bank.
               She stumbles ana falls and the sack of corn meal drops from
               her hands and spills onto the ground. In a single move,
               Teresa is on her feet and running again. A shadow flashes
               over the spilled meal and we hear a heavy, ripping snarl.

               INT. DELGADO HOUSE - NIGHT

               It is quiet and peaceful in the Delgado home. Senora Delgado
               is puttering about the brasero. Pedro, on all fours, is
               reading a comic book, his rump high in the air, his chin two
               inches from the book. Suddenly, a wild rain of knocks on the
               door fill the little room. Sonora Delgado, at the brasero,
               drops a spoon with a clatter and Pedro springs up.

                                   TERESA'S VOICE
                         Mamacita, let me in! Let me in, let
                         me in!

                                   SENORA DELGADO

               Sonora Delgado smirks knowingly and puts her hands on her

                                   TERESA'S VOICE
                         If you love me, let me in -- !

                                   SENORA DELGADO
                             (mimicking Teresa)
                         Mamacita -- let me in. Let me in,
                         now that I've spent half the night
                         getting the corn meal!

                                   TERESA'S VOICE
                         It's coming -— it's coming closer.
                         I can see it...

                         She is afraid of the leopard.

                                   SENORA DELGADO
                         Just what she needs -- something to
                         nip at her heels and hurry her up - 

               She is interrupted by a scream so high, of such agonized
               finality,that it makes the others before it seem like nothing
               at all. Mingled with the scream and blurring the end of it
               comes an impact of such violence that the whole door
               structure shakes with it from top to bottom. A puff of dust
               wells up around the door from the impact of the blow.

                             (his voice high with fear)
                         Madre do Dolores, she isn't

               Pedro jumps to his feet. An instant change has come over the
               face of Senora Delgado. She hurls herself forward.

                                   SENORA DELGADO
                         Wait, Teresa! I come! I will let
                         you in...

               Senora Delgado tugs at the rusty bolt.

                                   SEN0RA DELGADO
                         Only a moment, querida, hija do mi
                         alma -- your mother is here --

               As Senora Delgado tugs vainly at the bolt, Pedro darts over
               to the fireplace and grabs up a stone from the hearth.

                                   SENORA DELGADO 
                         Your mother will let you in - -

               Pedro rushes to the door and pushes his mother's hands aside.
               He hammers the unruly bar back with the stone.

               Then, he draws back and looks down at his feet. Senora

               Delgado's horrified eyes follow his glance.

               Under the crack of the door seeps a dark tongue of blood,
               widening and lengthening on the rough wooden floor.


               CLOSE SHOT of display window. The flowing blood dissolves
               into a film of water flowing across the window.

               The CAMERA PULLS BACK and we see a long handled squeegee come
               down the left hand side of the window, clearing a strip of
               clear glass. Through this clear glass we look into C. T.
               Johnson's Undertaking Parlor.


               This shop occupies an ordinary store building. The display
               window contains a solitary wreath of gilded leaves. Behind
               this wreath is a green baize curtain. The shop itself has a
               sad air of unctuous gentility. On the left side of the room
               are coffins on polished brass tressels. These coffins are
               half open to reveal the luxurious satin linings. In the back
               is a roll-top desk and swivel chair. In the rear of the shop
               is a door leading to the embalming room. This is curtained
               with the sane green baize. Over this whole interior is the
               eerie moire light that comes through the water-flowing

               Uncomfortable and stiff in their grief, we see the Delgados.
               The fat Senora, the little boy and the father in his stiff
               blue serge Sunday suit, stand near the wall. With them is a
               nun in the sweet, sad costume of the Carmelite order. At the
               other side of the room stands Kiki, somewhat abased, and very
               ill at ease in the presence of the Delgados' grief.

               The window cleaner steps closer to the glass, lifts up his
               long handled squeegee and opens up another strip beside the


               MED. CLOSE SHOT of the doorway taking in the Delgado family.
               Senora Delgado is weeping, with tears running unchecked down
               her big flat cheeks. Her husband, unable to express his
               grief, stands twisting a cheap velour hat in work-gnarled
               hands. The little Delgado boy, unable to comprehend the
               finality of death is interested and quick-eyed, letting his
               glance rove from one object of interest to another, then
               suddenly bored, as is the manner of children, distracts
               himself by making the leopard shadow on the wall.

               From the other room we can hear, the sound of men's voices,
               not clearly distinguishable, but growing in clarity. Kiki
               opens her purse, fumbles out a little soiled sheaf of bills
               and crosses the room. She hands the money to the nun.

                             (in a half whisper)
                         Sister, I'd like the family to have
                         this -- might help with the funeral

               The nun smiles, nods her head and tucks the money up under
               her sleeves. Kiki crosses back to the other side of the room.

               Midway through this action, the voice in the other room has
               risen in volume and clarity so that we hear the coroner
               speaking. From behind the green baize curtain the words come
               in that solemn, yet routine fashion, which is the specialty
               of county clerks and other minions of the law.

                                   CORONER'S VOICE
                         ...this evidence having been
                         presented before me on this, the
                         tenth day of April, I hereby
                         declare that Teresa Guadalupe Maria
                         Delgado was brought to her death by
                         violence, resulting from the
                         release of a wild animal, a
                         leopard, purportedly on theatrical
                         exhibition in this city -- Death by

               As the last word is spoken, Jerry makes his appearance
               through the doorway. His face is drawn and earnest,
               reflecting the ordeal of looking at the mutilated remains of
               the young girl. He crosses the room toward Kiki.

               MED. SHOT of Jerry as he takes his place beside Kiki. He
               looks at her as if seeking some comforting sign of
               friendliness. She keeps her eyes purposely averted from him.

               MED. SHOT. Through the curtained doorway come the coroner and
               Robles. The coroner carries a sheaf of papers in his hand.
               Coming through the doorway quickly, he turns and seats
               himself at the desk in order to sign and seal these

               Chief Robles, with his uniform cap in his hand, goes over to
               the Delgado family. In his face we can see the sympathy and
               feeling he has for his fellow townsmen. Fe puts his arm about
               Delgado's shoulder and embraces him with that peculiar
               Mexican embrace in which the hand and arm thump the
               embraces's shoulders.

                         It's all right, my friend. It is
                         the will of God.

               The genuineness of his sympathy and the sincerity of his
               voice take the banal touch from these simple words. Jerry
               looks on with interest. He turns to Kiki.

                             (sotto voce)
                         Suppose I slip them a few bucks —
                         for the funeral expenses.

                         Don't be soft.

               She pulls sharply at his arm to emphasize the point. He
               shrugs, abashed.

               From the inner room a fourth man comes out, a medium sized
               gentleman in a light gray business suit with a felt hat in
               his hand. His face seems stiff and he walks a little bit
               unsteadily. Passing Jerry, he extends his hand and pats
               Jerry's arm.

                         An unfortunate accident. Nobody
                         blames you, Mr. Manning. You
                         mustn't feel badly.

               Jerry nods; not at all anxious for further condolences.
               Galbraith goes on to stand in the doorway. Robles leaves the
               Delgado family and comes over to where Jerry and Kiki are

                         You can go now, Manning. There is
                         no way we can hold you legally

                         Thanks, Sheriff.

               Robles passes on a step or two, and then with a glance at

                         That leopard's got to be found. I'm
                         forming a posse. I can use help. -

               From the doorway, Galbraith answers quickly.

                         Count me in.

               Jerry makes an impulsive move forward -- then stops himself.

                             (shaking his head)
                         I haven't done any posse work since
                         last time I rode with Toni Mix at
                         the old Bijou Theatre -- aged six,
                         If you're interested,

                         Go on foot.

                         It's not for me.
                         I'm literally and figuratively a

               He lifts one foot and pats the ankle to illustrate his point.
               Robles passes on and out of the doorway, Galbraith joining
               him. With a backward look at the Delgado family, and a little
               hesitantly and slowly, Jerry and Kiki also leave the funeral


               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Jerry and Kiki as they stand in the center
               of the sidewalk.

                         I suppose he was trying to make me
                         feel bad.

                         And I suppose you don't feel bad!

               Before Jerry can protest.

                         Who was the other man?

                         I don't know —— a witness. He
                         seemed to know something about
                         animals -- you know -- expert

                         What did he have to do -— look at
                         the body?

                         We all, had to look at the body. It
                         was awful, Kiki -- awful!

               Kiki makes a movement as if to put her hand comfortingly on
               his sleeve, then changes her mind, dropping her hand.

               MED. SHOT - Undertaking Parlor - as the Delgado family
               emerges and starts down the street. The mother and father
               walk ahead, the father's arm about the mother's shoulder.
               They are followed by Pedro, his hand in the Nun's hand as
               they walk together. Kiki and Jerry fail to see them, and it
               is necessary for Senor Delgado to ask for room.

                                   SENOR DELGADO
                         Excuse, please.

               Jerry and Kiki move hurriedly out of the way to let the
               little group of mourners go past. Jerry and Kiki stand
               watching them for a moment.

               CLOSEUP of Jerry, his expression betraying anxiety and



               LARGE HEAD CLOSEUP of Maria. The beautiful face of the
               fortune teller, coifed and framed in the folds of a shawl,
               looks pure and Madonna—like. Her downcast eyes add to the
               holy feeling. Then, suddenly, her hand comes up and puts a
               lighted cigarette droopingly between her lips. The Madonna
               pose is shattered as though a stone had been thrown into
               still water.

               The CAMERA MOVES BACK to show Maria seated at Clo-Clo's
               dressing table, dealing out the cards. The last card to leave
               her hand is the Ace of Spades. She gazes at it for a moment,
               then hastily rakes up the deck and shuffles the cards.

               Behind her during this entire scene we have heard the tinkle
               of Moorish finger cymbals in metronome-like rhythm, the
               sounds spaced far apart.

                                   CLO-CLO'S VOICE
                         That card again?

               MED. SHOT - Clo-Clo and Maria. Clo-Clo is behind Maria. She
               has on a practice suit; black jersey leotards to the waist
               and a black silk bandeau about her breasts. She is using the
               chair rail of the dressing room as a bar to practice a ballet
               step while she beats out the slow rhythm of her exercise with
               the Moorish finger cymbals. Maria again deals the cards and
               Clo-Clo continues to play and practice. There is a
               contrapuntal rhythm between the dealing of Maria's cards and
               the slow tinkle of the cymbals.

                         I made a mistake. It was a
                         misdeal. I'll try once more.

               The cards "slap—slap' as she deals. As they fall, Maria

                                   MARIA (CONT'D)
                         It's a blackcard and bad card, but
                         not the card of the cat -— not the
                         card of four—footed things.

                         I saw Teresa. Maybe I was the last
                         to see her except perhaps her
                         Mamacita and her little brother. I
                         was going past --

                             (still dealing) )
                         They buried Teresa today and they
                         were hunting the leopard again --
                         out in the country this time. But
                         they didn't get him.

                         They're fools. Why don't they let
                         Charlie How-Come hunt it alone.
                         He's an Indian.

                         All men are fools. They like to
                         make a big show -— shout and hunt --

               She is about to deal the last card, when she stops and looks
               at it, then sweeps up the deck without dealing the remaining

                         The bad card again?

               Maria nods.

                         What did they say before the bad
                         card came up?

                         You'll meet a rich man and he will
                         give, you money.

                         You and your cards. Meet a rich
                         man! I look for them with money.
                         What rich man hasn't money. And for
                         what was I born if it wasn't for
                         money? You're not telling me

                             (with a shrug)
                         Watch and see, A day or a week -
                         but certainly this month -- you
                         will have money from a man and then-

                         And then what?

                         I will have to read the cards
                         again. There was a mistake.

                             (shooing her out)
                         You and your mistakes. Get out!
                         I've got to dress for the supper,
                         show and I don't want you to put
                         the evil eye on me. Vamoose!

               Maria unhurriedly snuffs out her cigarette, pockets her cards
               and starts for the door. As she opens the door, we see Jerry
               Manning going past, dressed in slacks and sports shirt,
               carrying his coat over his arm. He is dusty and tired. Clo
               Clo looks after him with a malicious grin.


               SHOT of Jerry as he knocks at Kiki's door.

                         Are you decent?

               From inside we hear Kiki's voice.

                                   KIKI'S VOICE
                         Yes. Come in.

               He opens the door. We can see she is seated in the armchair
               and has a magazine in her hand which she has been reading.
               She is dressed in street clothes.

                         Well, does everybody love us now?
                         You've been gone long enough to
                         soft—soap twenty editors!

                             (without particular

                         And did you find the leopard?

               Jerry realizes that Kiki is onto him. He gives her a look as
               if to say, "So you knew." He bends down and starts brushing
               at his trousers.

                         It must be the altitude —— you,
                         bucking around the countryside with
                         a lot of boot—and—saddle boys --

                             (trying to explain)
                         The whole town's in a state, Kiki
                         ——doors locked, people huddling
                         together like scared sheep ——nobody
                         on the streets at night ——

                         Our first real break -- and we
                         throw wild animals at the audience

                         Forget it. I'm buying a drink for a
                         fellow who was on the posse with
                         me, a nice guy. Come along he'll
                         get a great kick out of meeting

               Kiki picks up her hat from the dressing table and goes toward
               the door slowly. Jerry finishes brushing his clothes.

                         Who is he?

                         You remember the fellow this
                         morning -- Galbraith. You've got
                         time before the supper show.

               Kiki joins him in the doorway and they start down the

               INT. EL PUEBLO CAFE - NIGHT

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Eloise coming toward camera. She is in
               professional costume, and passes slowly along the front of
               the bar. She is smiling and opening a package of cigarettes.

                                   JERRY'S VOICE
                             (evidently at end of long
                         ..And it was sand, sand every foot
                         of the way --

               Eloise turns and the CAMERA TURNS WITH her. She stops at a
               small table where Jerry, Kiki and Galbraith are seated. She
               hands the package of cigarettes to Jerry. (Note: Kiki is
               wearing her hat in this scene)

                             (finishing and paying for
                         ——	As long as my feet held out.

                         And not a sign of the leopard?

               Galbraith shakes his head, Jerry smiles his thanks to Eloise.
               She goes on out of scene.

                         Jerry told me you were an expert
                         with animals, Mr. Galbraith.
                         Couldn't you tell where it went?

                         To know where that leopard went - —
                         I'm afraid you'd have to be a
                         leopard and think like a leopard. I
                         was a naturalist. That hardly
                         qualifies me as an expert in
                         hunting down lost leopards. I used
                         to teach zoology in a little
                         fresh—water college back East. I
                         gave that up.

               Kiki is just normally curious, not conscious that she is

                         What do you do now?

                         There's a little museum here in
                         town. They've hired me to run it,
                         We've some interesting exhibits of
                         Indian arts and crafts. It's fun --
                         and I like living here in New


                         Why did you give up teaching?

                             (after a little pause)
                         Various reasons.
                             (switching the
                         But I can't see why you'd be
                         interested in the rather dusty
                         career of William Galbraith —
                         teacher, naturalist, curator --
                         when you lead such a gay and
                         exciting life yourself.

                         Show business?

                         Yes. It's always fascinated me.
                         You know, once, when I was a
                         youngster, I went to see Mrs.
                         Leslie Carter in "Zaza." After the
                         play I stood in the alley just to
                         watch her come out.

               Both the younger people laugh at his unabashed simplicity.

                             (to Kiki)
                         So you see meeting you is a real
                         thrill for me.

                         Well, I'm hardly Mrs. Leslie Carter
                         —whoever she was. In fact, I'm not
                         even much of a success around here 
                         particularly after the backfire on
                         Jerry's little publicity stunt with
                         the leopard.

                         That was unfortunate.

                             (with a hard look at
                         That was a calamity!

               She nods her head toward the main door.


               MED. LONG SHOT including the table and the door beyond.
               Through this doorway Clo-Clo emerges in her costume. She
               enters with the proud step of a reigning favorite. There is a
               light spatter of applause from the bar and the tables on the
               porch. Clo—Clo, taking the castanets from her bosom, begins
               walking toward the dancing space. Passing the table where
               Kiki, Jerry and Galbraith sit, she grins broadly end
               maliciously. Leaning slightly toward them she makes a
               derisive sound on her castanets, then stalks on. They follow
               her with their eyes as she starts down the steps. From the
               audience in the main portion of El Pueblo cafe comes the
               sound of brisk applause and Clo—Clo's answering hail on the
               castanets. Her dance music begins. Kiki starts getting up.
               The two men rise with her.

                             (she rises)
                         Well, I'm next. You won't hear
                         anything like that, Mr. Galbraith.
                             (gesturing toward
                         I'm not a popular favorite since I
                         let the leopard loose.

                             (with heavy gallantry)
                         I'm sure if you are as talented as
                         you are charming, Miss Walker, you
                         have nothing to worry about.

                             (moving off)

               Galbraith starts to knock out his pipe on the heel of his

                         Well, I'd best be off.

                             (putting a restraining
                              hand on his forearm)
                         I want to ask you something.

               Galbraith looks at him questioningly.

                         It's about the leopard.

                         You're worrying about its killing
                         someone else?

                         Yes. I want to go out and patrol
                         the town - be everywhere at once -
                         be sure nothing happens to anybody.

                         Of course. It's the way any decent
                         man would feel in your position.

                         You know about animals -- their
                         habits -- will it come back?

                         No. I'm quite sure.

               Jerry gives a little sigh of relief.

                         There is no danger at all. It's a
                         wild animal. Do you think a wild
                         animal prefers walls, streets and
                         people when it can get into open

                             (terribly anxious to be
                         That's right, of course.

                             (starting toward the
                         Don't feel so concerned, Jerry.

               As they descend the stops together, the CAMERA HAVING PANNED
               LEFT to stay with them, now DOLLIES BEFORE them as they go
               down the path, toward the fountain. They come abreast of the
               fountain and Galbraith pauses a moment.

                         I've seen a bit of life, and I have
                         learned one thing. We are like that
                         ball dancing on the fountain. We
                         know as little about the forces
                         that move us and move the world
                         around us as that empty ball, which
                         lives only because the water pushes
                         it into the air, lets it fall and
                         catches it again. You shouldn't
                         feel too badly about Teresa

               CLOSE SHOT - the fountain. We see the ball rising and falling
               — oscillating in its movement.

               Clo-Clo is dancing, and although we can not see her, we can
               hear the click of her castanets, the quick, hard tread of her
               feet. We catch an occasional glimpse of her shadow, as she
               passes in dancing on the other side of the fountain.



               CLOSE SHOT of the fountain. The jet of water has been turned
               off and the ball floats quietly on the surface of the
               innermost basin.

               MED. LONG SHOT of Clo-Clo, as she makes her way to the gate.
               She is dressed in street clothes. Bus boys are busy piling
               chairs onto the tables while two young maids are hosing down
               the tiles. Cigarette butts, bits of paper and ether odds and
               ends of the night's trade litter the cafe and go swishing
               ahead of the streams of water.

               Clo-Clo smiles to one of the young maids as she passes.

                         A long night, Chiquita.

                             (straightening up and
                              shutting down the hose
                              with her thumb)
                         How long can a night be, Clo-Clo,
                         when you spend it dancing?

                             (passing by)
                         Twice as long as a day with your
                         mop and pail.

               The girl laughs and lets the water of the hose spray out
               again. Clo-Clo goes on, out of the gate.



               TRUCKING SHOT of Clo-Clo as she walks wearily down the
               deserted street. She is smoking a cigarette.
               Swinging from one hand is the little ornamented chamois bag
               in which she keeps her castanets. She comes to the flower
               store, sees that it is open and, throwing her cigarette away,
               starts in.


               MED. SHOT - Rosita, Senora Contreras' maid, has selected a
               bouquet of long stemmed roses from a large tin bucket. As she
               holds them aloft the flower vender, a chubby good-natured
               little Mexican in his late fifties, gently wraps a piece of
               newspaper around the wet stems.

                                   FLOWER VENDOR
                             (indicating the stems)
                         Roses are like children -— some
                         have short legs and some long.

               The flower vendor laughs loudly, his body vibrating. Rosita
               sees no humor in this remark and taking a coin from her
               pocket, hands it to him. Still chuckling, the vendor moves to
               his cash drawer, to make change. In the b.g., Clo-Clo can be
               seen entering the store. She tiptoes forward directly behind
               the flower vendor and ignoring Rosita completely, snatches a
               wilted gardenia from a tin. The flower vendor has caught this
               action in the mirror and whirling, pulls the gardenia out of
               her hand,and at the same time turns back to the cash drawer.
               Clo—Clo isn't at all abashed by the vendor's action.

                         You can't sell it - it's a day old.

                         But my stomach isn't a day old. If
                         I don't sell flowers -- I don't eat
                         -— and I love to eat.

               Clo-Clo tries a new approach. Coyly she winks at him.

                         I'll tell everybody you gave it to
                         me, -- that will be good for your

                         Yes, -- but bad for my wife.

               The vendor drops the change into Rosita's hand, then turning
               on Clo-Clo, shoes her off with a motion.

               ANOTHER ANGLE — taking in Rosita at edge of stall. She looks
               off at Clo-Clo and with a grand gesture, pulls a long stemmed
               rose from the bouquet.

                         My mistress, Consuelo Contreras,
                         does not have to beg for flowers.
                         She won't miss one.

               Rosita flings a rose to Clo-Clo. Clo-Clo catches it. With a
               snap she breaks the stem and thrusts the rose into her hair.

                         Thank the Senorita for me.

               EXT  STREET - EARLY MORNING

               MED. LONG SHOT. The CAMERA PANS WITH Rosita as she hurriedly
               crosses the street and mounting the opposite sidewalk, enters
               the Contreras' home.


               It is a cool, shadowy square room. At the back is a stairway.
               The floor is tiled. Through an arched grilled doorway, we can
               see the living room beyond. The front door opens and Rosita
               steps in hurriedly, her heels clicking on the tile floor.
               Three people are standing waiting. They are Senora Contreras,
               Cousin Felipe and Marta, an old servant who is more companion
               than maid in the household by this time. Marta is dressed all
               in black -— dress, shoes and apron. Her grey hair is dragged
               back to a knot. She wears tiny gold loops in her pierced ears
               and a gold cross at the fastening of her high collar. Senora
               Contreras, a dignified, imposing woman with the remnants of
               great beauty still apparent in her expressive eyes and lovely
               hair, is dressed in a flowing lacy negligee. In her arms she
               carries a little Chihuahua dog. Cousin Felipe is a dapper
               little cat of a man, meticulously dressed in the proper
               apparel of thirty years ago. The Senora and Cousin Felipe are
               waiting on the stairs. Marta is in the hail.


                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                             (softening the rebuke,
                         It will spoil the birthday song,
                         Rosita, if we wake her too soon.

               Rosita nods contritely. Walking with exaggerated care, she
               joins them and they all start up the stairs.

               The CAMERA FOLLOWS them as they go upstairs.


               SHOT of Senora Contreras, Marta and Rosita as they come up to
               the landing and start on tiptoe toward a door. The Senora
               Contreras puts her hand on the knob softly. Cousin Felipe
               pulls a single rose from Rosita's armful. Marta sees him -
               she glares but says nothing.


               Although the curtains of the room are drawn, the softly
               filtered daylight shows this to be a room of delicacy and
               lightness. The simplicity of the white walls, the sheer
               curtains hanging across the barred, embrasured windows, the
               lovely lace coverlet and the pretty young-girl trinkets on
               the dressing table give the room an air of lightness.

               As the door swings inward, the sunlight fills the room. Then
               we see, lying in the bed, serenely asleep, Consuelo
               Contreras. This is her eighteenth birthday.

               Senora Contreras walks to the foot of the bed and stands
               looking down at her daughter. She smiles sadly. In still,
               untroubled sleep, the full vulnerability of Consuelo's youth
               is touchingly apparent.

               Marta stands to one side, a little behind Senora Contreras.
               Cousin Felipe remains in the background, near the open door.
               Rosita tiptoes cautiously to the head of the bed and
               carefully puts down the roses, so that the blossoms lie in
               the curve of Consuelo's outflung arm. She has to drop on one
               knee to do this and she stays in this position, slowly
               drawing her hands away from the flowers. They start singing
               "Las Mananitas" the traditional birthday song of Mexico --
               singing very softly at first.

               Consuelo stirs slightly and then opens her eyes. Lying as she
               does, the first thing she sees are the roses, lying beside

               She lifts her eyes from the roses to see Rosita's eager
               smiling face, almost on a level with her own. Rosita's smile
               broadens but she goes on singing dutifully.

               Still bemused, but beginning to smile faintly herself,
               Consuelo looks beyond Rosita and sees Cousin Felipe standing
               back by the door. Very much the gallant, he touches his
               stolen rose to his lips and tosses it to Consuelo.

               Consuelo continues her survey of the room and turns her eyes
               to the foot of the bed.

                             (happily and lovingly)

               Senora Contreras nods slowly, but continues to sing with the
               others as they go into the chorus.

               Consuelo starts to sit up, pulling the roses to her.

               Rosita gets up, too, and props the pillows behind her young
               mistress. Senora Contreras comes around the bed and sits on
               the edge of it as the song finishes.

                         Good morning on your birthday,
                         Senorita Consuelo --

               Marta goes to one of the windows and motions Rosita to the

                         It is a good morning, nina -- see
                         how the sun is shining for you - -

               Marta draws back the curtains and the room, already light,
               seems to grow even lighter. Senora Contreras leans forward
               and kisses Consuelo's forehead.

                         What a lovely way to wake up!

               She looks from the bouquet of roses to the single rose that
               Cousin Felipe threw onto the bed. She picks it up and holds
               it to her face.

                         It is so beautiful, Cousin Felipe.
                         Thank you for buying it!

               At Consuelo's first words, Cousin Felipe begins to beam. But
               he glances across the room and encounters Marts's grin,
               sardonic glance just as Consuelo says "How carefully you must
               have picked it out!" Abashed, he murmurs something
               unintelligible and quietly slips out of the room.

               At the window, Rosita has been standing with her back to
               Marta, staring fixedly at Consuelo to attract her attention.
               She makes a little notion with her hands now and Consuelo
               glances at her. Smiling secretively, Rosita draws a white
               envelope part way out of her apron pocket, just enough to let
               Consuelo see what it is. Then she hastily puts it out of
               sight again. There is a sudden light in Consuelo's eyes. She
               is transfigured with a really exultant happiness.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Had you forgotten that it was your
                         birthday? I believe you had --

               Consuelo gives a helpless little laugh of delight, throws her
               arms around her mother end puts her head down against her
               mother's shoulder.

                         I'm so happy -- so happy!

               Senora Contreras pats the girl's head fondly. Marta, leaving
               the room, smiles at mother and daughter.

                             (turning at the door)

               Rosita slowly walks away from the window and toward the door,
               But as soon as Marta has gone out of the door, she stops at
               the dressing table on the pretext of dusting the bottles with
               her apron.

               Senora Contreras rises, with difficulty, and also goes to the

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Hurry now, my sweet, or we will be
                         late for mass.

               As Senora Contreras leaves the room, Rosita whirls around
               from the dressing table.

                         Quick! Give it to me!

               Rosita hands Consuelo the letter, Consuelo tears it open and
               reads the few lines. From her expression, one sees that even
               the handwriting of her beloved fills her with happiness.

                         He will be waiting...

                             (eager to help)
                         You must say that you went to take
                         some of the roses to your father's

                             (reading the note again)
                         At four. He will be there at four.

               She goes to the window and looks out.

               CLOSE SHOT of Consuelo at window.	Beyond her we see the sun
               dial on the wall.	It is seven o'clock and the shadows lie
               thick and heavy in the morning quadrant.

                         The time will never pass.


               INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

               At a French window in the living room downstairs, Consuelo is
               pulling aside the heavy lace curtains and looking out. Beyond
               her we see the big sun dial and the shadows lie heavy in the
               afternoon quadrant. It is nearly 5:00. She drops the curtain
               and turns back into the room.

               MED. LONG SHOT - living room. Senora Contreras is half
               reclining in a chaise lounge. Consuelo is sitting on a petit
               point footstool beside the chaise lounge. Both of them have
               embroidery frames in their hands. They are working on very
               fine, sheer pillow cases,

                         It seems to be getting darker in

               Senora Contreras glances over at the bright sunlight in the

                         Aren't you afraid you will have a
                         headache from working so long,

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         If we don't work on these a little
                         each day, they will never be done -
                         and you will be a poor bride.

               Consuelo looks at her mother curiously and a little
               apprehensively. Senora Contreras smiles but does not reply. A
               clock on the mantel strikes five in tiny bell tones. Consuelo
               looks at the clock desperately. Senora Contreras puts down
               her embroidery frame.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         It is late, isn't it? Too late, I'm
                         afraid, for you to go to the
                         cemetery now.

               Consuelo jumps to her feet.

                         But I must go to the cemetery,
                         Mamas! It's my birthday -- I must!

               Senora Contreras studies the girl's troubled face. She
               reaches out her hand, takes Consuelo's hand and pulls the
               girl to her.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         I did not come into this world a
                         middle—aged widow, mi hijita...

               Consuelo shakes her head in agreement -- but looks puzzled.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Anything you think -- anything you
                         do - - I thought and did before
                         you. And my mother before me...

               Consuelo nods dutifully.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         You are so young. I don't want you
                         to look back on anything lacking in
                         dignity, a few years from now.

                         No, Mama --

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Naturally, young men will become
                         interested in you. They should come
                         here, to our house. They should be
                         introduced to you by their parents
                         or your Cousin Felipe or some other
                         older relative -—

               Consuelo nods again. She glances uneasily at her mother and
               then her eyes go frantically to the clock. Senora Contreras
               lets go Consuelo's hand and leans back against the chaise
               lounge. She gives a little sigh of defeat.

                                   SENORA CONTRERAS
                         Very well -- get Rosita and go.

                         Thank you, Mama -- I'll hurry -
                         I'll be right back!

               Consuelo leans over, kisses her mother hastily and then
               rushes out of the room. Senora Contreras looks at the doorway
               through which Consuelo has passed. She smiles.

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. CEMETERY WALL - DUSK

               TRUCKING SHOT - Consuelo and her maid are walking along the
               wall, quickly. Rosita is carrying the roses in her arm.

                         Pedro is waiting for me, too.

                         Rosita —— I have wondered -—

                         What, senorita?

                         When you are going to see Pedro,
                         does your heart beat until you

               Rosita shrugs. Consuelo lifts one of the roses to her face.

                         Once Raoul took my hand and pressed
                         it to his cheek —- so gently, so
                         longingly. Suddenly I was afraid
                         for him -- afraid of everything in
                         the world that might hurt or sadden
                         him. He saw the tears in my eyes --

               Consuelo is silent, her face ecstatic, remembering.

                             (almost sullenly)
                         Love is different for different

                             (slowly — thoughtfully)
                         I suppose so. I suppose it will be
                         different for us, too —— when
                         everyone knows. Then we will be
                         just like other people.
                         But these last weeks will always be
                         our secret —— a lovely secret to
                         remember all our lives.


               The light is already dimming when Consuelo and Rosita come up
               to the gates. In front of the ponderous wooden gates, folded
               back like great dark wings, stands the gatekeeper of the
               cemetery. Fe is a very tall, incredibly thin, old man,
               dressed in a tight black alpaca suit. He has built a little
               fire in the gutter and stands warming himself by it. In his
               hands is an unfinished wooden necklace which he is carving.

                         I will see you back at the house,

               Consuelo nods and Rosita hurries away down the street. The
               gatekeeper looks up.

                         You're late today, Senorita.

                         I have brought my birthday flowers
                         for my father's grave -- it will
                         only take a moment - -

                         Time is strange. A moment can be as
                         short as a breath --or as long as
                         eternity -- don't linger - -

               Consuelo starts through the gates, not paying any attention
               to the old man's words.

                             (calling after Consuelo)
                         The gates are locked at six --

               There is no reply. The old man shrugs his shoulders and
               hunches over his little Lire again.


               The headstone of Don Rafael Contreras' grave, white stone,
               with a bronze wreath, is shadowed by the failing light of
               sunset. The headstone reads:
               PRAY FOR HIS SOUL

               BACK TO SCENE. Consuelo's flowers lie across the grave.
               Consuelo is half kneeling, half sitting beside the grave.

                             (low, but speaking
                              perfectly naturally and
                         And so you must forgive me, father,
                         for deceiving mother. She will meet
                         Raoul soon -- and everything will
                         be as you would wish. I promise.

               Consuelo rises and crosses to a near-by path. She looks into
               the growing shadows of the cemetery -- then up into the
               trees. Only the tops of them are lighted by the last rays of
               the sunset.


               Consuelo hurries along a path, with trees and graves on
               either side.


               Just off the path is a little belvedere, a circular hedge
               spaced at intervals by Grecian columns. Inside, a marble
               bench curves half-way around the hedge. Consuelo approaches
               it. Seeing the belvedere empty, she looks puzzled. She steps
               into the belvedere and then turns back and looks into the
               lowering gloom of the cemetery.

                         Raoul? ... Raoul...

               Consuelo waits, Her face is filled with disappointment and
               the first faint uneasiness of apprehension as the silence
               continues. She turns back into the belvedere.

               INT  BELVEDERE - NIGHT

               On the ground a number of partly smoked cigarettes have been
               stamped out -— and another lies on the marble bench. Consuelo
               picks it up and looks at it.



               From the inside of the cemetery, we see one of the wooden
               gates swinging closed,

               EXT  GATES OF CEMETERY

               The Gatekeeper is laboriously pulling the other gate closed.
               Suddenly, he stops.  He pushes the gate back open a little
               way and, standing in the opening, takes	a whistle from his
               pocket and puts it to his lips. It has a high, thin,
               quavering sound.


               Consuelo is seated on the marble bench, her posture dejected,
               lost in thought. In the distance, the whistle sounds faintly.
               She does not stir.


               The Gatekeeper gives two mere short blasts on the whistle.


               Consuelo raises her head as the quavering notes sound in the
               distance. For a moment, she looks puzzled -- then her eyes
               widen in horrified recognition of the sound. She jumps to her


               Consuelo steps out of the inclosure. She looks up into the
               tree tops. They are only darkness now, merging with the
               almost complete darkness of the sky above. Consuelo runs down
               the path.


               The Gatekeeper stands listening for a moment and then
               continues pulling the gate toward him until it clicks shut
               with the other gate. He drops the whistle into his coat
               pocket and, from the same pocket, pulls out a large key. He
               turns it in the lock of the gate. He turns around and moves
               toward the street and his little gutter fire. His shadow
               moves enormously on the gate.


               We see Consuelo running down a broad avenue in the cemetery.


               MED. LONG SHOT of the closed cemetery gates. The Gatekeeper
               has disappeared. The little fire burning away in the empty
               street makes the loneliness of the scene more apparent.


               Panting, Consuelo flings herself against the closed gates,
               tugging at the handle.

                         Let me out! Help —— helps! Let me
                         out of here!

               Looking desperately anxious, Consuelo turns. She looks across
               the cemetery and then starts running back up the main avenue.


               At the head of the avenue, several paths fan out in a half
               circle. Consuelo stands looking from one to another. She
               chooses the center oath and runs into the tree—thickened


               Consuelo runs at breakneck pace down a path. On either side
               are box hedges taller than she is.

               EXT  FORKED PATH - NIGHT

               The path Consuelo is on splits into two paths. In the V of
               the fork is a single grave and over it hovers a tall shaft of
               marble carved in the likeness of a brooding angel with folded
               wings and bowed head. Consuelo locks about frantically and
               then leans against the base of the statue, gasping for
               breath. Suddenly a wind springs up and the silence is broken
               into a thousand rustles and murmurs as the wind stirs through
               the trees. Consuelo shivers and slowly lifts her head to look
               up toward the tree tops. She looks directly up into the face
               of the statue.

               CLOSEUP of the angel's face is curiously sinister because
               there is light touching its contours.

               Consuelo whirls about to find the source of light. Through
               the wind-stirred branches she sees the great, lop—sided moons
               just rising into the night.
               She stumbles away from the statue and down the right—hand
               path, walking a few steps, then running a few steps, trying
               to force herself to rush on.

               Consuelo stands looking down into the old burial ground, a
               depression filled with weed-grown graves and ancient wooden
               headstones, either crazily askew or down entirely. It is
               entirely surrounded by the tall trees of the cemetery —— and
               the moonlight seems to fill the place with mist. Consuelo
               starts down the slope.


               There are no paths here. The weeds grow solidly across the
               ground — except where a grave, here and there, has fallen In
               and its earth is broken into clods. Consuelo stumbles about
               aimlessly. As she crosses one of the mounds, her foot strikes
               a fallen wooden marker. It is rotten and the green light of
               phosphorescene flashes across it,


               Moving again between tall trees, Consuelo moves on, no longer
               able to run. But when she sees a whiteness between the trees
               ahead of her, she does spur herself forward more rapidly.

               EXT. WALL OF CEMETERY - NIGHT

               Consuelo flings herself against the wall, her face alight
               with hope.

                             (calling loudly)
                         Help! Help! Help!

               There is silence. Slowly, keeping her hands pressed against
               the wall and moving sideways, Consuelo goes alongside the
               wall until she comes to a tree growing very close to the
               wall. In fact, one massive bough extends out over the wall
               and Consuelo looks up at it hopefully.  Then her expression
               changes — becomes tense.

               CLOSE SHOT of Consuelo.  Her eyes are wide and frightened.
               From the other side of the wall comes a sound — a light,
               scratching sound, exactly the same sound as that heard by
               Teresa Delgado in her first trip through the underpass
               tunnel. Listening intensely, Consuelo turns her head until
               her ear is pressed against the wall. Now, we hear the sound
               more distinctly — as she is hearing it — but it is still a
               light, feathery sound. Then, suddenly, it ceases. And as
               Consuelo strains to hear it again, there is the sharp, hollow
               clap of a car door carelessly flung shut just outside the
               wall. It is followed by the grind of a car starter. Consuelo
               jumps up.

                         Wait —— wait!

               The car motor starts. Pressing herself against the wall,
               Consuelo screams again and again. Finally, as the unseen car
               starts to slip away, the roar of its motor subsides and at
               that moment Consuelo's scream sounds clearly. Brakes rasp.

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Hello -— who's that?

               Consuelo is breathing in such convulsive gasps that she
               cannot emit any sound for a moment.

                         Here! I'm in here behind the wall!

               There is the sound of a car door being opened, and then
               footsteps beyond the wall.

                         I've been locked in. Please get me
                         out -—

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Now, don't get panicky. I'll climb
                         over and get you --

               Pressed tightly against the wall, Consuelo listens. She hears
               running footsteps and then the thud of someone jumping up at
               the wall, trying to get over it with a running start. Once,

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         I can't make it. You wait there and
                         I'll get someone to lend me a
                         ladder - -

               There is the sound of the car door banging shut again.

                         No, don't leave me! Don't go away — 

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         But you're all right now. It's just
                         a matter of a few minutes!

                         You won't forget —— you'll come

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Stay just where you are...

               The roar of the motor fills the scene again. Then it is quiet

                                   AUTOIST'S VOICE
                         Be back before you know it.

               There is the sound of the car drawing away. The sound of it
               lessens, fades — is swallowed in renewed silence. Consuelo
               stands against the wall, motionless. She turns fearfully, so
               that her back is to the wall, and peers into the shadows.
               Suddenly she stiffens.

               CLOSE SHOT of Consuelo. Her eyes widen. She turns her head so
               that her ear is close to the wall. And again we hear the
               curious scratching sound, and with it, another sound —-- a
               soft, living, breathing sound, as of animal nostrils
               snuffling along the wall, searching the scent of prey. There
               is a brief silence, and then Consuelo's head snaps up as we
               hear a soft padding sound near the top of the wall. She sees
               only the moon, just visible in the space between the tree
               bough and the top of the wall. There is nothing to be seen ——
               but a rustling sound comes from the top of the wall.
               Consuelo's eyes are motionless, fixed on the bough overhead.
               Very gradually, the great bough lowers, blotting the moon
               from view. Consuelo presses her back against the wall, as if
               she would push herself into it, escape through it. Her head,
               thrown back, is motionless — her eyes watching the ominous
               movement of the great bough, are motionless. And as she
               stares, a spasm of terror contorts her face. The bough
               suddenly springs back and the moon can be seen for one
               instant. During that instant we hear simultaneously a low,
               horrible snarl and a scream. Both are cut off as the whole
               scene blacks out.

                                                       FADE OUT

               FADE IN

               EXT. CEMETERY WALL - DAY

               A HIGH ANGLE SHOT through the branches of a great tree
               overhanging the wall shows a scene of sad activity.
               Consuelo's body, covered with a light canvas sheet, lies the
               at the foot of the tree.  Five ladders, three against the
               outside wall, two against the inside wall, form a curious
               pattern of bars and stripes in the clean morning sunlight. 
               Uniformed policemen and plain—clothesmen bustle about. One of
               them is making a moulage of footprints, his little working
               space roped off with twine and stakes  Others are examining
               the tree.
               Two policemen, one uniformed, stand at the side and between
               them stands a young man dazed and broken, almost hanging in
               the grip of the officers. He is sobbing. This is Raoul
               Belmonte. Suddenly he screams out hysterically.

                         Why? Why? Why?

               The policemen gently shake him into silence.

               Robles, followed by Galbraith and Jerry come up over the
               ladders. Robles climbs down the inside ladder as does
               Galbraith, but Jerry, being younger, leaps down.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT — SHOOTING TOWARD the wall.

                             (crying out)

               Robles looks over questioningly. The uniformed policeman, a
               Mexican, answers.

                         El novio.

                                   PLAIN- CLOTHESMAN
                             (almost simultaneously)
                         The boy friend.

                             (not unkindly)
                         Shut that man up. Take him out of
                         here or give him something to keep
                         him quiet.

               As the two officers lead Belmonte away, Jerry looks after him
               - his face deeply troubled. The three men then turn toward
               the shrouded body. A police officer, an American with a
               lieutenant's bars an his shoulders, stands at the head of the
               corpse. He bends down, lifts up the canvas, and Robles and
               Jerry peer under for a brief minute. Galbraith does not look.

                         The leopard again.

                         Any witnesses?

                         Just secondary witnesses -— the man
                         who Was coming to help her out --
                         the man he borrowed the ladder from
                         - - they found the body --and the

               The gatekeeper, who has been standing near one of the
               policemen, takes a half step forward.

                         I warned her. I told her the gates
                         would be closed.

                             (quieting him)
                         That's all right, paisano, it's not
                         your fault, we know.

               The old man shuffles back.

                         (to Lieutenant)
                         Anything else -— clues?

               The Lieutenant points to a square cardboard box on the
               ground. Galbraith picks it up.

                         It's the leopard all right. A
                         broken claw --	some black hairs -—

                         There arc claw marks on the tree.

               They cross to the tree.

                         He must have made these getting
                         out. Notice the way they've been
                         dug in from above.

                             (pointing to the ground)
                         And these leaves. They don't fall
                         this time of year. They must have
                         shaken down on her when it jumped.

               Jerry has been looking from one bit of evidence to the other,
               puzzled. He turns to Galbraith.

                         Doc -- something you said the other
                         day --


                         It doesn't jibe with this —— you
                         told me the leopard would go out
                         into the country —- it wouldn't
                         stay in the city ——

                         Sure -- certainly —- but what's
                         that got to do with this?

                             (a little hesitantly)
                         That's what I don't understand --
                         why should it come here -- and why
                         didn't it stay here? It's got trees
                         and bushes here -- outside nothing
                         but cement and asphalt.

                             (a little impatient)
                         Jerry, I talked to you about the
                         habits of an ordinary wild leopard.
                         This leopard is another matter
                         entirely - - a caged animal
                         travelling around with Charlie How
                         Come for years and years.. That's
                         why it kills human beings.


                         It doesn't know how to hunt its
                         natural prey.

                         But it doesn't eat what it kills.

                         Caged animals are unpredictable.
                         They're like frustrated human
                         beings. I can't answer your

                         That's why it just mauls and tears
                         at them.

                         Something's wrong with this whole
                         setup --

                         Yes, there is something wrong.
                         People who want publicity and don't
                         mind how they get it --what risks
                         they make other people run - - what
                         agony and sorrow they bring to
                         other people --

                         I know all that, chief, and I don't
                         like it any better than you do, but
                         there's something else --

               Robles is about to reply. Galbraith stops him.

                         Just a minute, Robles.
                             (indicating Jerry)
                         Let him go on.

                         I can understand about the cat
                         killing the first girl. Charlie How
                         Come told me. All that noise and
                         those lights -- scared crazy it
                         would do anything. Last night there
                         was nothing to disturb it. Just a
                         little girl alone in a cemetery.

                         What are you getting at?

                         Nothing much -- just that it might
                         not be a cat this time.

               Robles smiles, Galbraith shakes his head. Jerry starts for
               the ladder.

                                                       DISSOLVE TO:

               EXT. STREET - DAY

               MED. SHOT - Charlie How-Come's truck. Charlie is standing on
               the tailboard of the truck with a rubber exerciser in his
               hands. Beside him is an empty cage. He is giving his spiel
               but has only managed to attract an audience of small Mexican
               boys who obviously have not a dime among the dozen of them.
               Jerry is standing by watching him, obviously waiting for him
               to finish.

                         Health - - vigor -- vitality --
                         s-t-r-e-t-c-h --
                             (suiting the action to the
                         ...s t r e t c h. Watch the
                         panther! Watch the lion in the
                         jungles! What do they do -- s-t-r-e
                             (quieter and more
                              confidential tone)
                         Strength -- strength and vitality.
                         Here I can sell you the secret of
                         the cat's strength -- the cat's
                         vitality. Only a dollar. Only a

               The group of small boys, sensing that this is the end of the
               show, have already started to disappear. Charlie climbs
               stiffly down from the truck and faces Jerry.

                         Can't make a buck without my
                         leopard. I tell you, Mr. Manning,
                         you gotta find that cat for me --
                         or pay up.

                         Look, Charlie, just be patient.
                         I'll fix everything. You don't want
                         that cat, anyway. It killed two

                             (shaking his head)
                         No, sir. That girl in the cemetery?
                         My cat didn't kill that girl. I
                         told you cats don't go around
                         looking for trouble. If that cat's
                         alive, it's out in the country
                         hiding under a bush, starving to

                             (interested, but
                              concealing it)
                         You really think so, Charlie?

                         That cat ain't mean. I feed him out
                         of my own hand for six years. Why
                         don't he kill me? At night in the
                         truck, I let him out of the cage.
                         When I am falling asleep I hear him
                         walking back and forth. I go to
                         sleep. He don't hurt me.

                         They all say the cat killed this
                         second girl.

                         They don't say it to me.

                         I'd like one of them to say it to
                         you, Charlie. I'd like to have you
                         hear his side of it his reasons.
                         Want to hear them?


                             (taking his elbow)
                         Let's get in your truck.

               They climb into the truck.

                         Where's that man?

                         Up at the museum.

               Charlie puts his foot on the starter and the motor coughs and
               wheezes into reluctant activity.



               The museum is built on a hilltop and from the portico we
               overlook the sagebrush and mesquite-covered hills of New
               Mexico, rolling away to the horizon. At one end of this open
               porch an old Indian hand loom has been set up and here an
               Indian woman in Zuni costume sits patiently weaving a rug,
               the shuttle flying back and forth monotonously, and the foot
               pedal creaking as she changes threads. Charlie and Jerry come
               into the portico and cross to the door. They push open the
               heavy bronze door and enter the museum.

               INT. MUSEUM - DAY

               This museum, probably erected with the aid of government
               funds, is well-proportioned and severely plain. A portico, a
               long, rectangular display room and a combined office and
               workshop in an alcove off the main room comprise the museum.

               The display room has glass showcases containing various
               Indian artifacts. On the walls are examples of Indian rug and
               blanket weaving, masks and ceremonial properties.

               Galbraith's workshop is completely practical. A trestle table
               with an office armchair behind it, book shelves and transfer
               cases containing labeled shards and artifacts are in this
               alcove. On the trestle table, which Galbraith uses as a desk,
               is a reading glass on a fixed stand which he uses to examine

               Charlie and Jerry walk in. Charlie has evidently been here
               before because he shuffles down the main aisle through the
               display room without looking around. Jerry keeps pace with
               him but glances from side to side at various pieces. At the
               end of the museum they turn and enter the little alcove where
               Galbraith is seated at his desk. He is sharpening a pencil
               and does not look up. They wait.

                             (looking up)
                         Why, hello.

               He gets up, comes around the table.

                         You know Charlie How-Come?

                         We're old friends.

               Charlie nods.

                             (to Jerry)
                         Come to look around?

                         More or less.

                         I'll take you about. Got some nice

               He starts off and they follow him.

                             (as they walk)
                         Charlie and I were talking. That's
                         one reason I wanted to see you.

                             (looks at him)
                         About Charlie's leopard?


               They have reached the display room and pause a moment. From
               this point on, the CAMERA TRUCKS WITH them as they go.
               Galbraith acts as cicerone, conducting them about, walking
               ahead of them as he displays the exhibits.

                         Here is something that should
                         interest Charlie - a stone leopard
                         head made by his ancestors some six
                         hundred years ago. They used it in
                         ceremonies. The jaguar -- in fact
                         all the cat family -- were
                         considered the personification of
                         force and violence in their
                         religious rites.

                             (squinting at it)
                         It don't look like a leopard to me.

               They walk on. Jerry has paid no attention to the exhibit.

                         Charlie doesn't think the leopard
                         killed the girl in the cemetery.

                             (turning, with a smile)
                         Charlie likes his leopard.

                         Sure, I like my leopards

                         But he admitted quick enough that
                         it killed the first girl.

                         Well, Charlie, just why do you
                         think your cat didn't kill the
                         Contreras girl?

                         You know -- not scared enough.
                         Nothing to scare it.

                         If a leopard didn't do it, who did?

                         It could be a man.

                         It could be. Why would a man kill
                         her? For what? It wasn't robbery.
                         It wasn't a crime of jealousy or
                         passion. She had no enemies.

               Charlie shrugs.

                         There are all sorts of men. You get
                         to see some funny ones as a

                         I can understand what you mean -
                         demented men, pathological cases.
                         But what sort of man would kill
                         like a leopard and leave the traces
                         of a leopard?

                         Some crazy guy.

                         But he would have to know about
                         leopards - have access to leopard
                         claws and hair.

               They walk on. Galbraith points out a nicely molded jug.

                         Here's our prize exhibit - an
                         artifact of the Paleolithic period.

               He looks into the case with a glance almost of affection,
               then turns back to Jerry.

                         We had given up digging in a
                         certain barrow. I went back and I
                         tried again. I just had a hunch.

                         A hunch -- that's all I've got
                         about this leopard thing. It's just
                         a hunch, yet I feel it deep in the
                         stomach. It was a man!

                         Yes, but what sort of a man?

                         I don't know.

                             (turning toward Charlie
                         You, Charlie -- you know leopards.
                         You might have had an old claw
                         around somewhere, and perhaps a bit
                         of hair from the cage -— eh?

                             (seeing the joke, with a
                              wide grin)

                         No. I'm serious about this.

                             (still smiling)
                         Oh, I'm only exploring your theory.
                         Let's take a step further. You
                         drink, don't you, Charlie?

                         I drink.

                         And when you drink, you get drunk.

               Charlie nods.

                         Then what do you do?

                         I sleep it off.

                         But between the time you leave the
                         cant ma and fall into bed in that
                         old truck of yours, what happens,

                         I don't know.

                             (stopping near the door)
                         That's just it, Charlie. That's
                         what I'm driving at. You could do
                         anything in that time.

                         Charlie wasn't drunk last night.

                             (very worried)
                         Yes, I was drunk, Mr. Manning.

               Galbraith makes a gesture with his arms as if to say "There
               you are." Charlie shakes his head.

                             (with a wide friendly
                         See? There's a suspect for you,

               Jerry looks over at Charlie, who is very woebegone, worried
               and nervous.

                             (taking his arm, kidding)
                         Come on, Charlie. Let's go find
                         another and better suspect.

                         Don't you want to see the rest of
                         the exhibit?

                         Some other time.

               The men nod to each other. Jerry leads Charlie out.

               EXT. MUSEUM PORTICO - DAY

               Charlie and Jerry come out of the museum and stand for a
               moment on the edge of the steps. Behind there the Indian
               woman continues working at her loom, the heavy shuttle goes
               back and forth.

                         I'm sick.

                             (reaching into his pocket)
                         Here have a cigarette. He was only

                         No, he wasn't kidding. I'm sick.
                         Claw women? Hurt little girls? No!

               Jerry is still holding the cigarette out toward him.

                         I don't know. I want to see Robles.

                         What do you want to see him for?

                         I want him to lock me up.

                         Look, Charlie, you didn't do it,
                         and you know you didn't.

                         I don't know. I want him to lock me

               He starts forward and Jerry goes with him.



               Charlie's truck is parked at one corner. He, Jerry and Robles
               stand in front of it talking.

                         The Doc's right. I don't know what
                         I do when I get drunk. I don't

                         This is crazy, Charlie. You know
                         you didn't do it.

                         You'd better lock me up.

                         I've been trying to tell him,
                         Sheriff. He won't listen to me.

                         Let me get one thing clear. Did
                         Galbraith make a direct accusation?

                         No. He was kidding Charlie.

                         You'd better lock me up. If I do
                         things like that I want to be put
                         away. I don't want to hurt nobody.


                             (takes his arm)
                         All right, Charlie. If it will
                         relieve your mind, I'll put you
                         away for a few days.


               INT. JAIL - NIGHT

               MED. CLOSE SHOT -Charlie holding on to some cell bars, stands
               brooding. O.S., we hear the sound of castanets. Charlie lifts
               his head to look out of an unseen window.

               EXT. STREET - NIGHT

               TRUCKING SHOT - Clo-Clo, dressed in dancing costume, with a
               black shawl over it, passes along the street, clicking her
               castanets idly. From afar we hear a sad, sweet Mexican love
               song, being sung in a high tenor voice.

               Clo-Clo passes a dimly lit doorway, and we see a woman
               sprinkling holy water on the door step from a font that hangs
               beside the door.

                                   MEXICAN WOMAN
                         Valganos Dios.

               She makes the sign of the cross and softly closes the door.

               Further down the street, two policemen pass Clo—Clo, walking
               in step. She grins at them.

                         Two men for one beat? Afraid of the
                         big cat?

                                   FIRST POLICEMAN
                         Sure. I've got a family.

               They pass on. The CAMERA FOLLOWS Clo—Clo. The love song has
               grown louder and clearer and now we come to its source. A
               young boy is perched on ton of some vegetable crates on an
               old truck parked alongside the curb. He is singing for his
               own pleasure and hardly notices Clo-Clo as she passes.
               Smiling, she lifts one pair of castanets to follow the beat
               of his song. He waves to her and she passes on into the 
               darkness beyond the truck.

               The CAMERA HOLDS for a moment on the young boy as the
               castanets, playing the rhythm of his song, fade away in the


               EXT. PATIO OF EL PUEBLO - NIGHT

               The patio is pretty well filled with patrons. Clo-Clo,
               crossing the patio from the entrance gates to the bar in the
               rear, skirts the dance floor —- watching the customers with
               amusement. In doing so, she almost bumps into a waiter with a
               full tray. To let him pass, she backs aside and stands by one
               of the tables.

               At this table are three people; John Brunton, his daughter,
               Helene and her husband, Dwight.

               John Brunton is a heavy—set, rather impressive looking man of
               about sixty  Because he is an older man with the air of
               authority which comes from success and money, you have to
               look twice to catch both the gaiety and the gentle irony in
               his eyes. Helene and Dwight are two of his closest reasons
               for that irony. They are nice-looking, well—groomed, somewhat
               conventionally smart people.

               Waiting for the waiter to go by, Clo-Clo half turns and looks
               down at the three people. She smiles.

                         Hello —-

               Helene looks up coolly at Clo-Clo and then reaches for her
               cigarette case. Dwight, with a faint smile which is intended
               to put brash women in their places, busies himself lighting
               Helene's cigarette. Brunton looks up at Clo-Clo end gives her
               a friendly smile.

                         Hello, there.

               Clo-Clo continues on her way to the bar, without looking

                             (fretfully looking at his
                         It's been half an hour since we

                         Let's have a drink while we're

               Brunton leans back a little and cranes his neck to see if he
               can locate the waiter. Helene puts her hand over his on the

                         Don't bother. I don't want one -—
                         do you, Dwight?

               Dwight, disinterested, shrugs his shoulders. Helene gives him
               one of those say-something-dope looks.

                         No —- no, thank you.

               The music has stopped and the dancers applaud in the brief
               pause, Then the orchestra starts again -- this time a tango.

                         Want to dance, Helene? 

                             (shrugging her, shoulders)
                         I suppose so --

               As she starts to rise, he gets up to pull back her chair.

                         Dwight --

               Dwight rises from the table and the two of them walk over to
               the dance floor. Brunton watches them as they go off. Then he
               walks away, in the direction of the bar.

               INT. BAR AT EL PUEBLO - NIGHT

               Quite a crowd of people are standing around the bar, either
               waiting for their drinks or drinking them there. Others are
               seated at the small tables here and there on the veranda that
               houses the bar. At a table quite near the steps leading down
               to the patio, Clo-Clo is seated. A tall, thin goblet of beer
               stands in front of her.

               Brunton starts up the steps.. Seeing him, Clo-Clo grabs the
               beer and puts it on the floor between her chair and the
               veranda railing. Then she starts looking toward the bar, as
               if waiting for someone to wait on her.

               As Brunton comes to the top of the steps Clo-Clo just
               "happens" to catch his eyes.


                                   CLO- CLO
                             (turning on the charm and
                              the gamin grin)
                         I think we are playing tag -- or
                         maybe hide-and-seek, huh?

               Brunton steps over to her table and stands with his band on
               the back of the unoccupied chair - - a little uncertainly.

                         Is someone with you -- can I get
                         you a drink?

                         Why not?


               EXT. PATIO AT EL PUEBLO - NIGHT

               Helene and Dwight are seated at the table again. A waiter is
               serving the dinner they hate been waiting for.

                         It's taken this	impossible trip to
                         show me what an old fool father has

               Dwight rises from the table.

                         I'll look for him. He's probably in
                         the bar.


               INT. BAR AT EL PUEBLO - NIGHT

               Brunton is now seated at the little table with Clo-Clo. Near
               them, a waiter is preparing to open a bottle of champagne
               from an ice bucket.

                             (to the waiter)
                         Just a moment
                             (to Clo—Clo)
                         Look —- you've ordered this stuff
                         like a sensible girl --but you
                         don't have to drink it.

               Clo—Clo studies him, a little warily.

                         Do you want it? Or do you want
                         another beer?

               He looks over the side of the table and gently nudges the
               hidden goblet with the toe of his shoe, For a moment Clo—Clo
               is startled — then she begins to grin.

                             (to the waiter)
                         Two beers -- big ones!

               Brunton looks off toward the steps. An expression of dismay
               comes over his face. Clo—Clo turns around to see Dwight
               coming up to them. Dwight looks from Clo-Clo to the unopened
               champagne —- and then smiles at his father-in—law with a
               disagreeably "understanding" smirk.

                         They've finally gotten around to
                         our dinner --

                         I'll be there In a few minutes.

                         Sorry -- but you know how Helene is
                         -- she's been worrying about you --

               Still smiling, Dwight turns away. Clo-Clo looks after him and
               then straightens around and faces Brunton again.

                         My son—in—law. What do you think of

                         That depends. How much money has

               Brunton studies her -- not disapprovingly, but as he would
               study a child or an animal that appealed to him.

                         When you marry champagne, Clo-Clo,
                         you can't trade it in for beer.
                         You're stuck with it.

                         I can't understand that fancy talk.
                         You mean I'm a gold-digger? Sure,
                         I'm a gold-digger -- why not?

                             (echoing her calmly)
                         Why not -- if you like it —- if
                         that's what you really want.

               Clo-Clo sniffs angrily. The waiter serves the two glasses of
               beer. Clo—Clo grabs hers and gulps thirstily.

                         Maybe I should just forget all
                         about money - - forget about mamma
                         and the kids and the rent, huh -
                         marry some poor dope like -- oh,
                         like Carlos Dominguez - - and get
                         fat and —-

                         Who's Carlos Dom-what's-his-name?

               Clo—Clo shrugs her shoulders in a dramatic gesture of

                         Nobody. A boy who works in a

                             (watching her)
                         Good looking?


                         Nice fellow?

               Again Clo-Clo shrugs her shoulders.

                         Is he in love with you?

                         I don't know —-

               Clo—Clo looks down at her glass of beer, sullenly. Brunton
               watches her, not saying anything.

                             (in a sudden outburst)
                         Why do you ask so many questions?
                         What difference does it make how
                         Carlos and I feel? Feeling does not
                         buy clothes and houses!

                         Drink your beer and don't get so

               In spite of herself, Clo-Clo starts smiling. Brunton smiles
               back at her and lifts his glass of beer. She lifts hers to
               touch it in salute.

               The Brunton's table. The younger Bruntons are half-way
               through dinner. He looks at his watch. She frowns.

               She rises and he helps her on with her stole.

               John Brunton is still seated at the little table. He is
               laughing and coughing from the exertion of the laughter. Clo
               Clo stands behind him, thumping him on the back. She looks
               worried. Several people in the bar are watching them with
               amusement -- but a nice kind of amusement.

                         You'll kill yourself. Isn't there
                         something sad we can talk about,
                         just until you get over this?

               Brunton wipes the tears of laughter from his eyes.

                         That's what we were supposed to be
                         doing this time. But the sadder you
                         try to be, the funnier it comes

                                   HELENE' S VOICE

               Brunton makes a little face and then turns around to see
               Helene who is coming coward him from the steps.

                         We finished dinner hours ago.

               Brunton gets to his feet.

                         All right. I'll be with you as soon
                         as I've settled this ——

               He waves his hand at the glasses on the little table.

               With a fishy eye for Clo-Clo, Helene turns and goes back down
               the steps.

                         Why do you let her boss you around
                         like that? Give her a good slap and
                         tell her to keep still!

               Brunton chuckles. He takes some change from his pocket and
               puts it down on the little table. The waiter from the patio
               comes up the stairs and hands him the bill on a plate.

                         Madame will be waiting at the
                         entrance -—

               Brunton looks at the bill and then reaches into an inner
               pocket for a wallet. He takes a couple of greenbacks from it
               and hands them to the waiter. The waiter bows and smiles and
               goes off.

                         Madame will be waiting -- Madame
                         ought to go on waiting! To have
                         such a father and treat him like a
                         poor cousin!

               Brunton smiles again -- he starts to put his wallet away —
               	then opens it up again and takes a single bill from another
               compartment. He puts it in Clo-Clo's hand and folds her
               fingers over it.

                         This is for "mama and the kids."

                             (without looking at the
                              bill; kidding)
                         What about me?

                         You get your money from your

               Clo—Clo stares at him.

                         Carlos What's-His-Name -- the boy
                         at the grocer.

               Clo-Clo looks at him questioningly for a moment —- then very
               suddenly puts her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek.
               Brunton, greatly touched, pats her shoulder. They smile at
               each other -- and then Brunton turns and walks away.

               Clo-Clo looks after him, then down at her hand. She lifts the
               fingers from the bill crushed in her palm. Her eyes widen in
               shocked amazement.

               INSERT	$100 bill, crumpled in her hand -- The fingers close
               on it again.

               BIG HEAD CLOSE-UP - Clo-Clo. She smiles happily and starts

                                                       DISSOLVE IN

               EXT. STREET - NIGHT

               Clo-Clo is scurrying down the street as fast as her stilt
               heeled pump will carry her. Her face is bright with
               excitement and she hums to herself, snapping her fingers in
               imitation of her castanets. She passes the flower shop and
               then the window of the store where Maria tells fortunes. Clo
               Clo hesitates -- goes back and peers through the window.


               The interior of the store is dismal. On one wall hangs a
               phrenological chart. In the center of the room is a plain
               kitchen table with two rickety chairs, one of them a bentwood
               affair with a sagging cane seat. On the table sleeps a white
               cat, curled up against a cracked crystal ball. A cheap thick
               restaurant saucer on the table is more than half—filled with
               cigarette butts and ashes.

               Maria is seated at the table. A cigarette is in her mouth.
               She just sits there, not touching the deck of cards in front
               of her —— staring across at the wall.

               There is the sound of the door opening and Maria looks up.
               She says nothing as Clo-Clo comes into the place, but waits
               until Clo-Clo stands beside the table.

                         Well -- did he give you a lot of


                         The elderly man I told you about.

               Clo-Clo shrugs her shoulders and sits down at the table,

                         He was old enough -- but you
                         slipped up on the money. Try it
                         again, why don't you?

               Maria looks at her sardonically, but obligingly picks up the
               deck of cards.

                         Put your wish in them.

               Clo-Clo shuffles thorn a few times and then hands them to
               Maria. Maria cuts them into seven piles, face down. She
               starts turning up the top card on each pile.


               She looks up at Clo-Clo who maintains a completely blank 
               expression. Clo-Clo smiles.

                         Maybe a honeymoon --

               Maria starts to turn up the next card, with a practiced roll
               of the wrist —- as she sees what it is, however, she drops it
               and quickly swirls all the cards together again and hands the
               pack to Clo-Clo.


                         What are you doing that for?

               Maria shrugs her shoulders. Clo-Clo cuts the deck into three
               sections. Maria starts turning the top cards.

                         Again --

               Clo-Clo looks down at the cards, perplexed because Maria is
               perplexed. She sees a ten of diamonds followed by a four of
               spades. The third pile is still untouched.

                         Something black —- something on its
                         way to you ——

                         Go on -—

               Maria stares down at the third pack and then, with a deft
               twist, flips the top card face up. Almost simultaneously,
               Maria slaps her hand over it.

                         Don't look at it!

                         Let me see it ——

               Slowly, seemingly reluctantly, Maria uncovers the card.

               INSERT	The Ace of Spades.

                         The death card - -

                         Maybe not - cards mean different
                         things different times --

               Clo-Clo just stands there, staring down at the card.

               Clo-Clo nods her head slowly. She lays some silver on the
               table in payment for the reading, then goes across the room
               to the door. Maria stands up and walks over to join her. Clo
               Clo stands looking out of the door. She turns abruptly to
               Maria, at her elbow.

                         Walk a little ways with me —-?

               Maria shrugs her shoulders. Clo—Clo starts out the door,
               Maria behind her.

               EXT. STREET - NIGHT

               Clo-Clo and Maria walk in silence past the doorway where
               Shorty blew the smoke ring, past the perch where the boy and
               girl were kissing -- past the dark Delgado house. Clo—Clo
               glances up at the window as they go by.

               EXT. STREET CORNER - NIGHT

               The sidewalk is so high above the street here that there are
               three stone steps set in the curb. Clo-Clo goes down the
               steps, but Maria stops at the top. Clo—Clo turns and looks up
               at her.

                         Well ——

               Maria says nothing, Just stands there with an odd, mocking
               little smile on her face.

                         See you tomorrow —-

                         Tomorrow -—

               Clo—Clo continues across the street and up the curb steps on
               the other side. At the top of those steps, she turns and
               looks back. The corner where she had left Maria is now empty.
               The moonlit street stretches deserted on either side. Clo-Clo
               hurries on again, almost running.



               This is a nice residential section, more American in feeling
               than the other streets we have seen. There are trees on
               either side of the street and the moonlight makes lacy
               patterns through them. A shoulder-high brick wall encloses
               the garden of the house on the corner. Clo-Clo is walking
               along this brick wall. A purr of sound quickly lifts to the
               sound of a high-powered motor and the glare of headlights
               precede a long, low black roadster. The car comes around the
               corner and stops. A young man leans out on the driver's side

                                   YOUNG MAN
                         Hey, chiquita, want a lift?

               Clo-Clo stops and eyes him speculatively.

                         What way are you going?

                                   YOUNG MAN
                         Your way ——

               Clo-Clo suddenly shrinks back, horror coming into her eyes.

                                   YOUNG MAN
                         What's the matter?

                         Your car —— what color is it?

                                   YOUNG MAN

               Clo-Clo backs up against the brick wall.

                         Get outta here! Get away from me
                         with that thing!

                                   YOUNG MAN
                         What do you mean -— "thing"?

               Clo-Clo starts running along the wall, looking back in terror
               over her shoulder. The young man looks after her dumbfounded.


               EXT. CLO-CLO'S HOUSE - NIGHT

               This is a small, ordinary clapboard house. In front of it is
               a scraggly, dusty attempt at a lawn and garden. A mongrel pup
               lies on the dusty path sleeping.  Suddenly he leaps up and
               barks sharply.

                                   CLO—CLO'S VOICE
                         Be still, Pancho!

               Clo-Clo walks up the path to the house. She opens the front
               door, pushes Pancho away with her foot and slips	into the
               house, closing the door behind her.

               INT. CLO-CLO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

               In the shadowy light of a single candle, Clo-Clo's small
               bedroom can be seen only dimly. In it are a bed with iron
               bedstead, an ancient wooden rocking-Chair, a chest of
               drawers, and a little child's bed. The candle stands in a
               saucer on top of the chest. A little girl is sleeping in the
               large bed.

               Clo-Clo comes into the room.  She sits down on the edge of
               the bed and pulls the little girl into her arms. The child
               murmurs sleepily and snuggles up to Clo-Clo.

                         Pepita, tomorrow..I'm going to buy
                         you the most beautiful silk dress
                         in the world. 

               The little girl tries to open her eyes, but the lids flutter
               closed again and the child goes on sleeping.

                             (laughing softly)
                         You don't believe me, do you?

               She lays the child in the smaller bed and pulls up the full,
               ruffled skirt of her costume..

                         Wait until you see what I have —
                         then you'll wake up.

               She runs her finger under the rolled top of one of her silk
               stockings. She looks startled. Then, she stands up and pulls
               the costume back over the other leg. She looks in that
               stocking roll. She stands stricken under the realization that
               she has lost the money.

                                   MOTHER'S VOICE
                         Is that you Gabriela? What's the

               Clo-Clo doesn't answer. She scuffs off her shoes and looks in
               them. She drags off the long stockings, standing first on one
               leg and then the other. She turns them inside out and shakes

               Clo-Clo's mother appears in the doorway. She is a prematurely
               -aged woman with her hair in two braids and wearing a torn

                         What are you doing? Have you lost

                         Yes. Money. I must have lost it in
                         the street.

               Clo-Clo thrusts her feet into the slipper, not bothering to
               put the stockings on again. She grabs up a shawl from the
               foot of the bed and throws it over her shoulders.

                         Are you going out again, hijita?
                         Why don't you stay home and rest -—

               Clo—Clo stops to kiss her mother's forehead and then goes
               swiftly out the door, past her. The Mother turns to follow




               Clo-Clo walks into the scene very slowly, scanning every inch
               of the sidewalk, from the curb to the brick wall and back
               again, over and over as she moves toward the corner. She
               retraces the pattern of her steps when she stopped to talk to
               the Young Man -- out to the curb —— back to the wall and
               along the wall to the corner. She	then turns the corner.


               Clo-Clo looks down her side of this street. She looks across
               the street. Clo—Clo half turns, as if to retrace her steps —-
               but just then something further down the sidewalk catches her
               eye. She runs along the wall and leans down to grab at the
               bit of folded green and white paper there. The elation dies
               from her face. Stonily, rigidly she stares at it, the wrapper
               from a stick of gum.

               There is a tiny sound -- no more than a flicker of sound.
               Clo—Clo lifts her face slowly. There is no movement anywhere,
               no further sound. Clo-Clo looks to the building. There are
               alternate bands of black darkness and moonlight. Clo—Clo's
               eyes move from one to another. There is no movement behind
               any of them.

               Frowning a little, Clo-Clo starts back toward the corner. As
               she moves, she hears footsteps across the street in the black
               shadows. Listening, she walks more softly. But there is no
               fear in her expression	or her posture. She is only curious.
               Suddenly, she whirls and looks across the street. There is
               nothing over there, nothing moving, nothing making sound. She
               walks on to the corner arid, looking back once, goes on
               around the corner.


               Clo—Clo walks away from the corner, along the brick wall,
               very slowly. Her eyes go from side to side and she turns her
               head slightly, as she listens. She stops. Behind her, back
               around the corner, she hears footsteps

               —- and then an imitative silence. She takes a few more steps,
               stops suddenly again -— and again the pursuing footsteps
               overlap hers. As Clo-Clo stands there, the silence is
               protracted. Puzzled, but still showing no expression or
               gesture of fear, Clo-Clo listens, then smiles and turns back.

                             (smiling; speaks softly)
                         Carlos —-

               She gets as far as the corner, throws away her cigarette and
               takes a compact and lipstick from her pocket. She holds up
               the compact mirror and starts to outline her lips with the

               BIG CLOSEUP — Clo—Clo. There is a tiny sound - and some
               grains of pebble and brick-dust trickle down the wall behind
               Clo-Clo's head. She looks down, puzzled, and then - very
               slowly - lifts her head.

               Enormous HEAD CLOSEUP of Clo-Clo. The mouth goes slack and
               the eyes widen in the shock of absolute horror.

               A FLASH of the lipstick dropping from Clo-Clo's limp fingers.

               A hoarse cry of terror is broken off by a violent snarl and a
               FLASH of Clo-Clo's body arching back -- almost in the posture
               of a dance -- away from the assault of something black which
               rises from lower left-hand corner of the frame and instantly
               blacks out the entire screen.

               We FADE ON her still glowing cigarette in the gutter.

               FADE IN 

               EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

               MED. LONG SHOT - Clo-Clo's grave. The coffin, on canvas strap
               supports, is being held over the open grave by four black
               suited attendants. The priest stands at the head of the
               grave, dressed in his vestments, and with the open prayer
               book in his hand. At the grave side are a few mourners, Clo
               Clo's mother and her little covey of brothers and sisters are
               all huddled together at the foot of the grave. Between them
               and the priest stand a small group: Robles, Jerry, Mr.
               Brunton, Galbraith, Charlie How-Come, the Florist and
               Belmonte. The priest is just finishing the service.

                         Anima ejus, et animae omnium
                         fidelium defunctorum, per
                         misericordiam Dei, requiscant in


               From some distance away we hear the tolling of church bells.
               The attendants slowly begin to lower the coffin into the
               grave. The florist who had begrudged Clo-Clo one wilted
               flower comes forward and lays a whole armful of roses on the
               descending coffin. Jerry follows him. He puts Clo-Clo's
               castanets among the flowers.
               The coffin sinks slowly from sight. One of the attendants
               takes a spade. We hear the hollow thump of the first spadeful
               as it strikes the casket.

                                                       DISSOLVE CUT

                                                       DISSOLVE IN:

               EXT. CEMETERY GATE - - DAY

               Robles, Charlie, Jerry and Galbraith come out of the cemetery
               together. They are walking slowly, evidently still somewhat
               under the sombre influence of the ceremony they have just

                             (to Robles)
                         Have you sent for the state

                         I wired this morning.

                         State hunters?

                         Professional hunters, who rid the
                         state of cougars.

               The men have paused just outside the cemetery gate.

                         You still believe it's the leopard?

               Robles stares at Jerry.

                         Haven't you seen the evidence,
                         haven't you heard the testimony?

                         Is there anything In Clo-Clo's
                         death, Jerry, to suggest it wasn't
                         the leopard?

                         Yes. The lipstick.


                         Ask Kiki. Ask any woman. Girls
                         don't put on lipstick in the middle
                         of the night on a dark, lonely
                         street unless they're with a man or
                         expecting a man.

               Robles and Galbraith look at Jerry. There is some admission
               of agreement in their very silence, as they weigh what he has

                         It is possible --

                         Just the same - - I am going to
                         use the state hunter. Well -- come
                         on, Charlie, I'll give you a lift
                         back into town.

               Robles starts off and Charlie obediently starts after him.
               But Charlie stops and turns back to Jerry and Galbraith.

                             (to Galbraith)
                         Now I know I didn't hurt nobody
                         when I was drunk - -

                         Of course, not, Charlie. I never
                         thought you did.

                         And my leopard - - maybe he hurt
                         the first girl -- but no more.

               Charlie, looking satisfied at having had his say, turns and
               goes off after Robles. Jerry and Galbraith start off in the
               opposite direction.

               THE CEMETERY WALL - DAY

               TRUCKING SHOT with Robles and Jerry as they walk along.

                         You must admit it's possible that
                         it might have been a man.

                         Just barely possible - - yes.

               Jerry pauses and Galbraith stops and looks at him

                         You know a lot. You've taken a lot
                         of fancy courses in colleges and
                         that kind of stuff - - what kind of
                         a man would kill like that?

                         But all those fancy courses were
                         about the dead, Jerry, not the

                         All right -- the dead, then.  In
                         history there must have been men
                         like that -- men with kinks in
                         their brains --

               Galbraith nods his head. He starts walking slowly forward
               again and Jerry goes along with him.

                         Yes. There have been men who kill
                         for pleasure -- strange pleasure.
                         There was Blue Beard in France --
                         Jack The Ripper in London. It's not

                         If there were a man like that, with
                         a kink in his brain around here
                         loose, what would he be like.

                         To the eye? Like other men.

                         I don't mean that. How would he
                         act? What would he do?

                         He'd act normally when he was with
                         other people. It would be a man who
                         suffered remorse and even pity when
                         it was all over.

                         Couldn't you tell a man like that
                         when you saw him?

                         No. He would be a hard man to find,
                         Jerry. Particularly if he were a
                         clever men. He would go about his
                         ordinary business calmly and coolly
                         except when the fit to kill was on

                         You've thought of all this before.
                         You know it isn't the leopard ——
                         Don't you?

               Galbraith makes no answer. Jerry looks at him and senses the
               finality in this. The two men start walking once more.

                                                       FADE OUT:

               FADE IN:

               KIKI'S DRESSING ROOM - DAY

               Jerry, Kiki and Eloise are in the dressing room.	Jerry and
               Kiki are dressed for travelling. Kiki is wearing a suit and
               her hat and topcoat are on the table. Standing on the floor,
               near the door, are a couple of	suitcases. Both Kiki end
               Eloise are holding paper cups in their hands. Jerry is Just
               finishing filling Kiki's cup	from a champagne bottle (split).

                         There you are —-

               Jerry crosses to Eloise and fills the cup she holds out.
               Eloise looks at him with sentimental fondness.

                         Oh, dear -- I don't know what I'm
                         going to do without you - 
                         honestly, I don't ——

                         Hey —— I'm over here.

                             (not taking her eyes off
                         I'll miss you too, honey --

               Jerry grins at her. He fills a cup for himself and puts the
               bottle down on the dressing table. Then he lifts the cup to

                         Well -— here's to luck in Chicago.

                         Chicago! Imagine getting out of all
                         this silly scenery and opening in a
                         real city!

                             (a little smugly)
                         Not bad, huh? And this place
                         closing for the week—end gives us a
                         couple of extra days to rest up.

                         I can use them.

                         Do they close up every year for
                         this Processionist business?

                         It's the big religious ceremony
                         around here. You really ought to
                         see the procession -- why don't you
                         wait over —— say, who knows, I
                         might be able to scare up some
                         money and go with you then!

                         You're sure crazy to get out of
                         here, aren't you?

                         You know what it is to be ambitious
                         -— but you two are already on your
                         way -- I haven't even started.

               The door opens, simultaneously with a knock, and a Mexican
               waiter appears with a large box of flowers in his hands. He
               hands the box of flowers to Jerry, who is	nearest him.

                         These for the Senorita Kiki. And
                         the cab is coming soon.

                         Okay, Kiki -- here we go!

               They start out. The CAMERA HOLDS ON Eloise as she watches
               them go.


               INT. OF THE CAB - DAY

               Kiki and Jerry are seated side by side in the cab. The box of
               flowers is between them. It is covered, but the ribbon has
               been taken off. Kiki holds a card in her hand. She looks down
               at it.

                         That was nice of Mr. Galbraith.

                         He's a nice guy. Vie ought to keep
                         in touch with him.

               Kiki looks down at the box of flowers. She lifts the box
               cover a little and then closes it again.

                         Pretty. You know -- it's funny but
                         flowers only mean one thing to me

                         I know. Funerals.


               In the following pause, Kiki looks out the window. Jerry
               looks over at her, watching her seriously and questioningly.
               But as she turns back, he looks away again.

                         Jerry ——

               Jerry waits, but says nothing.

                         Jerry, these flowers aren't really
                         for me ——

                         You mean you want to take them to
                         the cemetery.

                             (a little shame-faced)
                         Yes. Do you mind?

               Jerry leans forward and taps on the glass partition between
               themselves and the driver.



               In the arbor-like inclosure, two or three white pigeons are
               moving about on the sunlit ground. As Kiki and Jerry enter
               the inclosure, they lift into the air with a flutter of wings
               and fly away. Kiki looks around the little inclosure.

                         And she waited here for him?

                         Robles says it looks that way.
                         Belmonte had already been there and
                         left. They only missed each other
                         by a few minutes.

               Kiki goes over to the little marble bench and sits down.

               Jerry stands and looks down at her.

                         What do you suppose she thought
                         about - alone in here?

               Jerry shrugs his shoulders.

                         It's such a sad little place --

               Kiki stands looking out at the sunlit trees of the cemetery.

                         Why do you want to stay around
                         here? It'll only make you feel

                         Maybe I want to feel badly.

                         That doesn't make sense.

               Kiki turns around and faces him across the belvedere.

                         Maybe I'm tired of pretending that
                         nothing bothers me -- that I don't
                         care about anything but myself -
                         myself and my two-by-four career.

               Jerry comes part way across the belvedere to her.

                         What else do you care about, Kicks?

                         You. Us.

               Jerry comes over and takes her in his arms. He looks into her
               eyes and then kisses her deeply. As he lifts his head again,
               he holds her even more tightly.

                         I'm glad you care about us, Kicks.
                         Sometimes that gets kind of lost in
                         the racket --

                             (looking up at him)
                         Maybe there ought to be less racket
                         and more us.

               Jerry smiles at her. Leaving one arm around her shoulders, he
               steers her over to the little marble bench. They sit down,
               still with their arms around each other.

                                   KIKI (CONT'D)
                         We've been so busy pretending to be
                         tough hombres --

               Jerry nods. With a little sigh, Kiki puts her head down on
               his shoulder.

                         Confession. I'm a complete softie.
                         I've been conscience-stricken and
                         worried sick ever since that
                         leopard got away --

                         If that's being a softie -- there
                         are two of us.

               They sit quietly -- happy in a moment of complete

                         Kiki -- it wasn't the leopard.

                         You're positive of that, aren't

                         Absolutely sure.

               Kiki gets to her feet and tugs at Jerry's hand.

                         We're not going to catch a train,
                         darling -- we're going to stay
                         right here and catch a murderer.

               Jerry stands up.

                         You're sure it's all right?
                         You don't mind staying?

               Kiki smiles up at him.

                         You already know the answer to
                         that. I want this town to be safe
                         and happy again --

                         I'm no detective. I don't even know
                         how to begin. All I know is I want
                         to do something about all this.

               Kiki takes his arm and they start across the inclosure. Jerry
               stops at the entrance.

                         Oh, by the way -- I'm out of cash --

                         Didn't you take your cut out of the
                         closing check?

                         I got into a little crap game.

                         That's funny -- I never knew you to
                         lose that much before --

               Jerry looks innocent and helpless..

                             (a little embarrassed)
                         As a matter of fact, I'm out of
                         cash myself.

                         What! You can't be --

                         I -- I bought some silver jewelry
                         and stuff from Eloise --

                         Eloise doesn't own enough of
                         anything to make a dent in your pay
                         check, Kicks.

                         All right, I'm not ashamed of it! I
                         split it two ways —	

                             (before he can continue)
                         Half to the Delgado family and half
                         to Clo-Clo's family.

                             (taken aback)
                         How do you know?

               Jerry grins.

                         You did the same thing yourself!

               Impulsively, Kiki puts her arms around Jerry and hugs him



               The old gatekeeper is leaning against the cemetery gate,
               whittling. Kiki and Jerry the gate. Kiki smiles at him..

                             (just by way of polite
                         Must get lonely here.

                             (nodding toward the
                         I have many friends -- and they
                         don't bother me with talk --

                             (to Jerry)
                         That ought to hold you.

               Charlie How—Come comes walking towards them, dragging a sack
               behind him.

                         Two hundred and fifty dollars you
                         owe met

                             (very excited)
                         You found the leopard!

               Charlie comes up to them and drops the sack to the ground.

                         What's left of him.

                         Where? Where did you find it?

               Charlie is wiping his face with Now he gestures with the
               cloth, a bandana handkerchief.

                         North -- in an arroyo, Shot through
                         the head —- maybe week ago. No
                         good, skin, everything gone ——

                         What arroyo -— how did you get to
                         it ——

               Charlie looks perplexed. He draws a line in the air with his



               A small shoeshine stand with two chairs under an awning.
               Robles sits in one of them, looking down like a judge at the
               group before him -- Kiki, Jerry and Charlie. The other chair
               is empty. The little Mexican who runs the stand is working
               with furious diligence over Robles' boots.

               Charlie, the sack lying nearby, is bent over almost double,
               tracing an imaginary line on the sidewalk.

                         And here is Three Tree Mesa -- and
                         here I go out of the big arroyo --

                         That's the place: I remember -— My
                         feet were so darn sore, I couldn't
                         make it -- and Galbraith went on up
                         to the head of the canyon by
                         himself --

                         Just a moment ——

               He looks at Kiki and holds out his hand beseechingly.

                                   ROBLES (CONT'D)
                         Please -- Miss Walker —— come up
                         and sit beside me. I cannot stand 
                         — so you must sit.

                         No, really -- thank you just the
                         same, I ——

                         Chief, don't you understand what
                         this means?

                         You think Galbraith found the
                         leopard on the day you went out
                         with the posse.

                         I'm sure of it!

               Having finished one boot, the Mexican bootblack goes to work
               on the other. Robles holds up the polished boot and looks at
               it admiringly.

                         Isn't that beautiful? There is no
                         one in the state like him. He is a
                         genius in his own line.

               Jerry makes a gesture of impatience.

                         Galbraith knows something. He as
                         good as said so ——

                         I am not interested in what
                         somebody else thinks. You being me
                         facts and I'll act on them.

               Jerry kicks at the sack with his foot.

                         That's a fact, isn't it?

                         Yes. And I am taking it to
                         headquarters for examination.

               The bootblack puts the final buff on the second boot. Robles
               steps down. He pats the bootblack on the shoulder and hands
               him a coin.

                         You won't go to Galbraith with me?

                         Offend a reputable citizen and
                         involve the department in a slander
                         suit? No. I'm in office to protect
                         the taxpayers money — not throw it
                         way. Come on, Charlie.

               Charlie picks up the sack and trails away after Robles. 
               Jerry stares after them. The his arm. Jerry looks at him. The
               bootblack makes a gesture of buffing and points down to
               Jerry's shoes.  Jerry shakes his head.

                         No. No, thanks.
                             (to Kiki)
                         Now we've got to do it ourselves.

                         We will ——

               Jerry takes her arm and they start walking away.


               INT. BELMONTE'S BEDROOM - DAY

               This is a small, simply furnished bedroom with a day-bed.
               Raul Belmonte is sprawled on this couch. His hair is rumpled,
               he needs a shave and his shirt is badly wrinkled. His face
               and eyes show the effects of constant drinking. A bottle and
               glass stand on the floor beside the head of the couch. Jerry
               is looking over at a photograph which stands on a small table
               in the window —- a photograph of Consuelo Contreras.

                         A lovely face, a tender smile, soft
                         beautiful hair -— that's what you
                         see in the photograph, isn't it?

               Raul props himself on one elbow and looks across at the
               photograph himself.

                             (in a hard voice)
                         A smear of blood, clawed rags in a
                         huddle on the ground --that's what
                         I see. A horrid, terrible thing.

                         I know. I was there.

               Raul swings himself into a sitting position on the edge of
               the couch. He puts his head into his hands.

                         But you aren't here when she calls
                         out at night. Wake up and hear her 
                         - screaming —- "Raul, Raul, get me

               Jerry goes over to him and puts his hand on his shoulder.

                         Easy, boy. I want to talk to you.
                         Maybe there's something I can do —-

               Raul reaches down and gets the bottle and the glass. He
               starts automatically to pour a drink for himself —— then
               stops and holds out the bottle and glass to Jerry.

                         Have a drink. That's the best thing
                         to wipe out nightmares ——

               Jerry takes the bottle-and glass and carries them over to the
               table. He puts them down and then comes back to Raul, who has
               sat watching him stupidly.

                         No. You've got to kick at
                         something, fight with something, to
                         work the nightmares out of your
                         system. In Consuelo's case, there's
                         been nothing to fight against -—
                         just fate and a dumb brute animal.
                             (pauses to watch Raul)
                         I've got something to tell you that
                         will change all that.

               Raul looks up at him.

                                   JERRY (CONT'D)
                         It wasn't an animal.

               Raul frowns and moves uneasily, trying to understand through
               his alcoholic haze.

                         It was a man.

               The two men stare at each other.

                         A man -— killed Consuelo?

               Jerry nods his head. Raul slowly gets to his feet and stands
               eye to eye with Jerry.


                         I don't know. But I want your help
                         to find out.

               Raul goes over to the table and picks up the bottle. He pours
               some liquor into the glass and takes it off quickly, as if it
               were medicine. Then he turns back to Jerry.

                                                       DISSOLVE OUT

               DISSOLVE IN


               The commemorative procession is forming here. Some of the
               participants are hooded, wearing black hoods very much like
               these worn by the Ku Klux Klanners. In the doorways and
               windows, the townspeople are watching.

               Galbraith passes through the crowd. He has a small paper
               package in his hand, his pipe in his mouth and is walking
               along, obviously on his way to somewhere. Eloise, who is
               standing watching the Processionists, blocks his way for a
               moment. He tries to pass around her. She sees him and smiles.

                         Oh, Mr. Galbraith! I'm so glad
                         you're here.

                             (a little puzzled and
                              trying to pass on)
                         Good evening.

                             (stopping him)
                         You know all about these things - -
                         and I've lived here all my life —-
                         and I still don't know what the
                         Procession means.

                         It's to remind people of the great
                         tragedy that took place here so
                         that they won't ever forget that a
                         peaceful village of Indians was
                         wiped out by the Conquistadores,
                         back in the 17th Century... A band
                         of monks buried the dead and prayed
                         for them and did penance for their
                         deaths —— that's what this
                         procession is supposed to be.

                         Oh, that's so interesting!

                         Well, now that you've had your
                         history lesson, I think I'll get on
                         to the museum.

               He nods and starts off. Eloise turns back to watch the

                                                       DISSOLVE IN

               EXT  CEMETERY WALL - NIGHT 

               Galbraith is walking along the quiet, empty street outside
               the cemetery wall.

               There is a very faint cry from inside the cemetery.

               Galbraith slows his stride perceptibly, but does not stop.

                                   GIRL'S VOICE
                             (o.s., very faint)
                         Help! Get me out! Help! Help!

               Galbraith stops and looks up at the cemetery wall, 

               CLOSEUP of Galbraith shows fear and puzzlement in his eyes.

               Still looking toward the wall, Galbraith walks on.


               Galbraith is walking along the brick wall, approaching the
               corner. Just before he gets to the corner, a lighted
               cigarette spins out and falls to the pavement in front of
               him.	Galbraith stops as if he had come up against stone.	He
               stands there, forcing courage to go on. He takes the few
               steps to the corner and faces the direction from which the
               cigarette was thrown. There is on one in sight anywhere.

               Very slowly, Galbraith reaches down and picks up the
               cigarette. The unlighted end is dark with lipstick. With an
               almost imperceptible shudder, Galbraith lets the cigarette
               fall. Walking rigidly, he continues on his way.

               INT. MUSEUM - NIGHT

               The large room is in shadowy darkness. The heavy front door
               swings open. Suddenly the place is brilliantly lighted from
               the overhead fixtures. Galbraith takes his hand from the
               light-switch just inside the door. He pushes the clear closed
               and leans up against it exhaustedly. He is breathing heavily
               and his eyes are dull and heavy-lidded with the reaction from
               violent fear.

               He sighs deeply and then walks slowly and wearily across the
               display room to the office alcove. He sits down at his
               worktable and starts work on a small model of Indian ruins,
               done in colored clays.

               Suddenly, far away but clear in the silence, he hears the
               sound of castanets —— just three widely spaced clicks. His
               hands becomes motionless above the model —-but he does not
               look up.

               The same sound comes again, repeated twice, the clicks a
               little more rapid.

               Galbraith gets to his feet and stands staring into the empty,
               brilliantly lighted museum room.

               The castanets sound again and this time they go into a steady
               rhythm, still faint and faraway; a purr of sound. But the
               sound increases in volume and intensity every second.
               Galbraith listens, his eyes mirroring his growing terror, his
               hands pressing down onto the worktable.

               The castanets come up to a brain—splitting reverberation of
               sound. The tendons in Galbraith's neck stand out —— his
               forehead is wet with sweat.

               As the tenseness of his body and the madness in his eyes
               signal that his control is about to break —— the castanet
               furor abruptly ceases.

               For another few seconds, Galbraith stands there  Then he
               lifts his hands from the table and draws in a deep shuddering
               breath. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and slowly
               wipes his face and his bands.

               Re steps out of the alcove and presses a light—switch on the
               wall nearby. The overhead lights in the display room go out.
               The alcove is new like a little lighted stage at the end of a
               dark auditorium. Galbraith steps back into it, takes a book
               from the worktable and settles down in an armchair at one end
               of the table. He begins to read.

               The sound of the front door opening breaks suddenly into the
               stillness. It brings Galbraith to his feet in an instant. His
               book falls to the floor.

               Across the shadowy display room, a figure moves to the
               accompaniment of a woman's brisk footsteps.

               There is no terror in Galbraith's face this time -- but he
               waits tensely to-identify his visitor.

               Kiki steps into the lighted alcove.

                         I've disturbed	you. I'm sorry -

                         Miss Walker -- I didn't expect
                         anyone ——

               Kiki steps closer to the table.

                         I came up on the spur of the

               Galbraith leans down and picks up the book.

                         I wanted to	see the procession ——
                         and I remembered your kind
                         invitations	--

               She smiles a little uncertainly.

                         Of course. Only I'm afraid you'll
                         be cheated. There isn't much of a
                         view of the procession here.

                         I thought they came right past
                         here ——

                         They do, but -- there are no lights
                         out there —- they'll just be
                         shadows -—

               Kiki moves across the alcove to a window.

                         It's not so terribly dark out. If
                         we turn off these lights, we can

               A panic-stricken look leaps into Galbraith's eyes.

                             (no trace of fear in his
                         No use turning the lights out until
                         they get here..

               Kiki stands looking out at the window.

                         But they're coming now, listen.

               Very faintly, in the far distance, can be heard the chanting
               of the procession.

                         Hear them?

               Galbraith listens as if he wore listening to Fate itself.

                         Turn off the lights --

               Galbraith stares across at her. With great effort, he speaks.

                         Wait ——

                         No —- really, I can see them --
                         they're coming now -— turn off the
                         lights ——

               As if hypnotized, Galbraith walks out of the alcove and to
               the light-switch on the nearby wall. His fingers move up
               towards the second switch.. He still stares toward Kiki. He
               has the set, bloodless look of a man-lost in some fearful

               CLOSE SHOT of Kiki. For the first time, we see that she is
               terrified. She is looking at the window where Galbraith is
               faintly mirrored.

               CLOSE SHOT of Galbraith's hand on the light-switch. The
               fingers curve claw-like as he pushes down the switch.

               INT. MUSEUM ALCOVE - NIGHT

               In the window, the reflection is blotted out.

               Outside we can see the processionists marching. The pin
               points of their candles are making bright spots against the
               dark background of their robes and the night sky. The loader
               chants and the rest answer him monotonously, over and over

               Kiki stands at the window. Behind her Galbraith crosses from
               the light switch, walking normally, his footsteps following
               one another with great regularity.

               Kiki stands perfectly still, keeping her eyes to the window.
               Only her left hand slowly rising to press against her heart
               betrays her anxiety. As the hand rises we pick up the beat of
               her heart. (Trick effect.)

               Galbraith comes closer and closer until finally he stands
               behind her. The beating of her heart subsides. There is
               perfect silence. Even the processionists cease their chant
               for a moment. Kiki and Galbraith stand this, way for an
               instant,, then suddenly Galbraith moves violently toward her.
               She screams. The side door bursts open and Jerry and Belmonte
               come pell—mell into the room.

               It has all happened with such suddenness that for a moment
               Galbraith stands stock still. The two grapple with him. This
               physical contact rouses him. He shakes himself loose and
               dodges around the desk. They chase after him through the

               INT. DISPLAY ROOM - NIGHT

               Galbraith runs in, followed closely by Jerry and Belmonte. He
               dodges among the showcases. He tries the great door. It has
               been locked. He turns and starts running back toward the
               alcove. They stop him. He dodges them and goes on. Jerry
               starts after him again. Belmonte reaches under his coat and
               pulls out a revolver. The movement has caught Jerry's eye and
               he turns.

                         Raoul -- don't. Put that gun away.

               Jerry runs on, without seeing whether or not Raoul has obeyed
               his order. With the gun still in his hand, Raoul follows


               Galbraith runs in past Kiki, who has left the window and is
               standing in front of the desk. Just as he passes her,

               Jerry reaches him, grabs his arm and whips him around. The
               two men struggle. Belmonte comes up. To avoid the struggling
               men, Kiki steps backward and knocks against the showcase
               containing the butterflies. It falls with a great crash and
               the sound of breaking glass, Kiki falls with it.

               Jerry glances over and sees Kiki on the floor. He lets go of
               Galbraith who dodges out of the side door, Belmonte after
               him. Jerry kneels down beside Kiki.


                         It's all right. I'm not hurt.

               He scrambles up from his knees and runs after Belmonte.

               The processionists slowly climb the hill toward the cross.
               The leader is still calling out and the others answer him in
               the long established rigmarole of their ceremonies. Galbraith
               with a hurried look over his, shoulder runs into the scene
               and slips in with the marching men.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT of Galbraith as he makes him way to the
               center of the marching column.

               Jerry and Belmonte stand panting beside the marching column
               of processionists. He looks right and loft. There is no sign
               of Galbraith. He, too, falls in the rank near the end of the
               procession. He begins to slowly make his way to the head of
               the column, peering under the hats and into the dark faces of
               the men. His gun is still in his hand.

               ANOTHER ANGLE of the marching column. We see Galbraith in the
               very center and behind him Jerry and Belmonte come up and
               look into his face. They seize his arms. Galbraith struggles
               to get away from them. There is a disturbance in the ranks of
               the processionists. Quickly, six of the enormous, tall,
               hooded figures gather menacingly around the center of the
               disturbance. No word is spoken. There is only the convergence
               of these six great figures about the two struggling men. The
               three men subside. Galbraith ceases to struggle. The six
               hooded men leave them, drawing back to the flanks of the

               CLOSER SHOT of Jerry and Galbraith. The two men are close
               together, but march on in step with the processionists, and
               as they walk, they talk sotto voce. Despite the urgency of
               what one demands from the other and the other denies, the
               silent authority of the hooded figures mutes their voices.

                         It was you, Galbraith!


                         It was you.

                         Not! I tell you. No!

                         You shot the leopard. We know that.
                         You killed Consuelo. You killed Clo
                         Clo. Then tonight --

                         I didn't do anything. She screamed.
                         Something frightened her.

                         Consuelo screamed too -- and Clo
                         Clo. Why did you do it? Why? Quick.
                         Tell me why?

                             (brokenly, very near
                         It's better you don't know.

                         Tell me.

                         Why do yo&i accuse me? You don't
                         know what you're doing -- you don't
                         understand -- nobody understands --

               Jerry studies Galbraith. A new note has crept into the man's
               voice -- an odd note of irrationality and self—pity.

                         In the whole world there isn't a
                         single human being who knows what
                         it is to be tormented this way --

               The procession has reached the crest of the hill. As the head
               of the column begins to make its way around the cross the
               whole file slows from a march to a shuffling half step. Jerry
               and Belmonte seize the opportunity to edge Galbraith out of
               the column toward a Joshua tree. They stand in its deep
               shadow while the procession goes on and off.

               CLOSE SHOT of Jerry and Galbraith, with Belmonte close to
               Galbraith in the b.g.

                             (prompting Galbraith)
                         Tormented -- ? Why?

                         I couldn't rest —- I couldn't
                         All I could see was Teresa
                         Delgado's body -- broken --mangled.
                         I saw it day and night.  It was
                         waiting everywhere I turned.

                         Then you found the leopard --

                         I didn't want to kill, but I had
                         to. I heard her in the cemetery -
                         talking to the man in the auto --

               Belmonte stirs in the shadow of the Joshua tree.

                         When he went away -- I thought
                         maybe I was going to help her get
                         over the wall -- I can't remember.

               CLOSE SHOT of Belmonte. His face is motionless —- his eyes
               are burning.

                             (with mounting hysteria)
                         I looked down -- in the darkness
                         I saw her white face turned up to
                         me -- the eyes dark and wide with
                         fear -- the fear -- that was it --
                         the little frail body -- the soft
                         skin —-

               Slowly, Galbraith's two hands lift, the fingers curved
               slightly inwards. He looks at them as if he, too, were
               terrified by their deadly potentiality.

                         And then --
                             (smiles, strangely and
                         ——	she screamed --

               Behind him, Belmonte comes up close. Agony passes over
               Belmonte's face and contorts it... His hand squeezes down on
               the gun. A shot roars out. Galbraith falls, silently
               crumpling down at the base of the Joshua tree. Belmonte
               throws the gun away and stands looking at him.




               T. C.  Johnson' s undertaking parlour is lighted and the
               light falls out of the window in. a great broad path onto the
               dark sidewalk. Jerry and Kiki come out of the	building. They
               pause and stand in the broad glow of light from the window.
               For a moment they are silent. Behind them, in the shop, we
               see Raoul Hobbs and two policemen.

                         We stood here once before.

                         I know -- Teresa -—

                         I hated you that day —- you and
                         your flip talk -— with that little
                         girl lying dead.

                         I know. What do you think I felt
                         when you said, "don't be soft?"

                         Jerry, I want you to be soft. You
                         are soft -- inside -— where it
                         matters. I wanted it that day too,
                         but didn't dare tell you.

                         We ought to dare to tell each other
                         everything, Kiki -- you and I.

               Re looks up and down the street.

                         It's a strange town, Kiki. A funny
                         town. Mexican, American and Indian,
                         all mixed up in itself, with two
                         languages. The sign posts written
                         in Spanish and English. A strange

               ANOTHER ANGLE showing the street. Four hooded processionists
               go by in single file.

                         It's a lovely town —- it was until
                         we came and let the leopard loose
                         and all this happened.

                         Kiki, Galbraith said something to
                         me once, -- something you ought to
                         know. We were talking and he said
                         that people were like that ball on
                         the fountain at the hotel --they
                         got pushed around by things bigger
                         than themselves. That's the way it
                         was with us -- and we were too
                         small to see it that way.

               He puts his arm about her and they begin to walk up the

                                                       FADE OUT