8mm Page #2

Welles turns the lawnmower, stopping to mop his brow. One

of his neighbors is repainting a back porch. The neighbor

waves. Welles waves, resumes mowing.

INT. BOWLING ALLEY -- NIGHT

MUSIC'S LOUD. League Night. Every lane full. Welles is

with his team in BOWLING SHIRTS. Welles hoists his ball,

preparing to bowl. He takes three steps, releases...

Down the lane, PINS SCATTER. One pin remains standing.

Welles balls up his fists and curses, walks back towards his

rowdy, mocking teammates. He shouts back at them, laughing,

grabbing his beer and drinking, waiting at the ball return.

INT. WELLES' HOUSE, KITCHEN -- NIGHT

Dinner. Welles and Amy eat at the kitchen table with Cindy

in a high chair. Amy feeds Cindy between bites. Welles is

still in his league shirt.

AMY:

You think you'll have time for the

water heater this weekend?

WELLES:

Sure. I'll call the guy.

AMY:

You're not using the same guy who

tried to fix it?

WELLES:

I'm not using him again for

anything. He was worthless.

(eating)

You have bridge here Saturday?

AMY:

Betty's out of town so we're playing

next week.

Welles nods, eating. He watches Amy feed Cindy. The PHONE

starts RINGING. Welles goes to answer it.

WELLES:

(into PHONE)

Hello. Yes... could you hold on a

minute...?

Welles hands the phone to Amy, pats Cindy's head as he heads

downstairs, through the LIVING ROOM...

INT. WELLES' HOUSE, OFFICE -- NIGHT

Welles enters his well kept OFFICE, turns on a light at the

desk. The room is filled with FILE CABINETS and shelves of

BOOKS, hundreds of PHONE BOOKS and a COPY MACHINE. Welles

picks up the phone and cups the receiver.

WELLES:

(shouts upstairs)

Okay, I've got it.

(into phone)

Hello... sorry, I was switching

phones. It's a pleasure to make

your acquaintance, Mrs. Christian.

(listens)

Yes. Yes, I understand... tomorrow

evening should be fine...

Welles listens, clears space on his desk, taking notes.

EXT. CHRISTIAN COMPOUND -- DUSK

A huge OLD WORLD MANSION is situated at the center of acres

of Pennsylvania forest and vast gardens. Welles' car heads

down a long tree lined drive, to the dark mansion.

INT. CHRISTIAN HOUSE, HALLWAY -- NIGHT

Welles follows a BUTLER down a long hall.

INT. CHRISTIAN HOUSE, LIBRARY -- NIGHT

The butler shows Welles in, shuts the door.

Towering SHELVES of BOOKS are serviced by ladders. Far

across the room, an old, sad woman, MRS. CHRISTIAN, sits

waiting with a tall, thin, sinister ghoul of a LAWYER.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Mister Welles. You're very prompt.

WELLES:

I try to be.

Welles crosses towards them. It takes a while.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

I appreciate your coming on such

short notice.

Mrs. Christian holds out her hand and Welles takes it.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

This is Mister Longdale, my late

husband's attorney.

Welles shakes Longdale's limp hand, looking him over.

WELLES:

Uh huh, pleasure.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Apparently Mr. Longdale has

something he feels he simply must

say before you and I speak.

LONGDALE:

Yes, I do have something to say. I

insisted on being here as soon as I

heard Mrs. Christian contacted you.

WELLES:

I'm listening.

LONGDALE:

As Mr. Christian's attorney and one

of the executors of his estate, it

concerns me that a meeting of this

sort should take place without my

being asked to attend.

WELLES:

Of what sort?

LONGDALE:

You are a private investigator?

WELLES:

That's right.

LONGDALE:

Well, whatever reasons Mrs.

Christian has for engaging the

services of a private investigator,

I should certainly be a party to.

But, since she feels differently, I

can only go on the record as having

expressed my adamant disapproval.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Yes, how theatrical. So you've gone

on the record, and now perhaps you

should just be gone.

Longdale's irritated, but has no choice. He walks away.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Have a pleasant evening.

(to Welles)

Will you have tea, Mister Welles?

WELLES:

Thank you.

Mrs. Christian begins pouring tea from the service on a

table. Welles watches Longdale exit.

WELLES:

He's odd.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

He's a lawyer.

(offers tea)

Please, sit, here...

Welles accepts a dainty tea cup and saucer, taking a seat.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

I've spoken to friends of mine and

my husband's, in Harrisburg, in

Lancaster and Hershey. Asking about

you. I must say you have friends in

influential places.

WELLES:

I've been privileged to provide

services for people I admire.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

You are highly recommended. Praised

for your discretion... your strict

adherence to confidentiality.

Welles nods, sipping tea.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

As you know, my husband passed away

recently. Two weeks ago now.

WELLES:

My condolences.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

His passing has left me with...

something of a dilemma. A terrible,

terrible dilemma.

WELLES:

I'll do whatever I can to help.

Mrs. Christian studies Welles.

INT. CHRISTIAN HOUSE, MR CHRISTIAN'S OFFICE -- NIGHT

Mrs. Christian and Welles enter. This office has been lived

in for a lifetime. Giant DESK. AMERICAN FLAG. Walls

covered in old b+w PHOTOGRAPHS and ACHIEVEMENTS. A large,

baked enamel sign nailed up, "CHRISTIAN STEEL."

MRS CHRISTIAN:

His inner sanctum.

Welles looks up at the OIL PAINTING over the fireplace: MR.

CHRISTIAN, a powerful, old man, posed with a dark, teeming,

industrial landscape behind him.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Not many people have been inside

this room.

Welles examines PHOTOS of Mr. Christian visiting various

STEEL PLANTS, COAL MINES and ground-breaking ceremonies,

shaking hands with WORKMEN, with POLITICIANS.

WELLES:

Pittsburgh?

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Mostly. That's where he started his

empire building.

(looks up at portrait)

He was a good man. Notorious as an

eccentric, but that was something he

cultivated. He wanted to be

legendary.

WELLES:

He succeeded.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

We were married forty-five years.

Hard even for me to imagine. We had

our troubles. There were plenty of

places for him to be other than

here, but he was always loyal to me,

and I to him. I loved him deeply.

Welles waits.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Do you carry a gun, Mr. Welles?

WELLES:

I wear a gun when I can tell a

client expects me to. Other than

that, there's never any reason.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

Just curious.

Mrs. Christian crosses to take down a PICTURE, revealing a

WALL SAFE. The safe is ajar, burnt and scarred, broken into.

MRS CHRISTIAN:

My husband was the only one with the

combination to this safe. I knew

about it, but as far as I was

concerned it was none of my

business. Not till now, that is.

WELLES:

You hired someone to open it. I'll

bet the lawyer loved that.

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