American Psycho Page #16

NEW ANGLE:
Bateman flees from the scene. The camera follows

him as he runs along a row of Porsches, trying to open each

one, setting off a cacophony of CAR ALARMS.

THE SOUND OF POLICE SIRENS draws near.

NEW ANGLE:
He runs, panting, until he ends up in front of a

tail, brilliantly lit office building. As he approaches,

the lights in the building are going off floor by floor.

INT. OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT

He rushes into the lobby, running for the elevator.

NIGHT WATCHMAN:

Burning the midnight oil, Mr. Smith? You

forgot to sign in.

Bateman wheels around and shoots him. He runs toward the

revolving doors. As he swings around in the doors, he

notices a JANITOR who has witnessed the shooting. He

revolves back into the lobby and shoots the janitor.

NEW ANGLE:

He runs out of the building and across the

street to an identical office building, the one that houses

Pierce & Pierce.

INT. PIERCE & PIERCE LOBBY - NIGHT

Bateman nods at the Pierce & Pierce NIGHT WATCHMAN and signs

in. He breathes a sigh of relief as the elevator doors close

behind him.

INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - NIGHT

Bateman stands looking out

through the floor-length windows at a panoramic night view

of the city and the river.

Below him he sees a SWAT TEAM swarming over the roof of the

opposite building. There are ambulances standing by, flares

everywhere, distant sirens.

Suddenly, THE SOUND OF A HELICOPTER draws near. Frightened,

he drops to the floor behind his desk.

Helicopter searchlights scan the building, illuminating

Bateman's office for a few moments with a blaze of light.

He is crouched in one corner, half-sobbing, talking into

the phone, as the searchlight keeps circling.

BATEMAN:

Harold, it's Bateman. Patrick Bateman. You're my

lawyer so I think you should know-I've killed a lot of

people. Some escort girls, in an apartment uptown, some

homeless people, maybe five or ten, an NYU girl I met in

Central Park. I left her in a parking lot, near Dunkin'

Donuts. I killed Bethany, my old girlfriend, with a nail

gun. and a man, some old f*ggot with a dog. Last week I

killed another girl with a chainsaw-I had to, she almost

got away There was someone else there, maybe a model, I

can't remember but she's dead too. And Paul Owen. I killed

Paul Owen with an ax, in the face. His body is dissolving

in a bathtub in Hell's Kitchen. I don't want to leave anything

out here...I guess I've killed 20 people, maybe 40-I have tapes

of a lot of it. Some of the girls have seen the tapes, I even...

well, I ate some of their brains and I tried to cook a little.

Tonight I just, well, I had to kill a lot of people and I'm not

sure I 'm going to get away with it this time-I mean I guess

I'm a pretty sick guy. So-if you get hack tomorrow, I may show

up at Harry's Bar, so, you know, keep your eyes open.

Bateman hangs up the phone. The helicopter searchlight

circles back, briefly illuminating the room. The camera rises

up over Bateman huddled in the corner, staring blankly at the

sky.

INT. SMITH AND WOLLENSKY RESTAURANT - DAY

KIMBALL and Bateman are sitting at a corner table.

KIMBALL:

(Very surprised)

No hash browns?

BATEMAN:

Not in the mood, I guess.

KIMBALL:

But...everyone orders the hash browns here. I

mean- it's-have you been here before?

BATEMAN:

(Deliberately nonchalant)

Yes, of course. The hash browns are delicious. I'm just...not...

ordering them.

KIMBALL:

(Looking at him like he's nuts)

Suit yourself, I guess.

Pause.

KIMBALL:

So, the night he disappeared? Any new thoughts on

what you did?

BATEMAN:

I'm not really sure. I had a shower...and some

sorbet?

KIMBALL:

I think maybe you've got your dates mixed up.

BATEMAN:

But how? Where do you place Paul that night?

KIMBALL:

According to his date book, and this was verified by his

secretary, he had dinner with...Marcus Halberstam.

BATEMAN:

And?

KIMBALL:

I've questioned him.

BATEMAN:

Marcus?

KIMBALL:

Yes. And he denies it. Though at first he couldn't

be sure.

BATEMAN:

But Marcus denied it?

KIMBALL:

Yes.

BATEMAN:

Well, does Marcus have an alibi?

KIMBALL:

Yes.

A pause.

BATEMAN:

He does? You're sure?

KIMBALL:

(smiling)

I checked it out. It's clean.

BATEMAN:

Oh.

KIMBALL Now where were you?

(He laughs)

BATEMAN:

(Laughing with him)

Where was Marcus?

KIMBALL:

He wasn't with Paul

Owen.

BATEMAN:

So who was he with?

KIMBALL:

He was at Atlantis with Craig McDermott, Frederick Dibble,

Harry Newman, George Butner and –

(He pauses, Then looks up)

- you.

A moment of stunned silence.

BATEMAN:

Oh, right. Of course...We had wanted Paul Owen

to come. But he said he had plans...I guess I had dinner

with Victoria...the following night.

KIMBALL:

Personally I think the guy went a little nutso. Split town for

a while. Maybe he did go to London. Sightseeing. Drinking.

Whatever. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he'll turn up sooner or

later.

(A pause)

I mean, to think that one of his friends

killed him, for no reason whatsoever would be too

ridiculous. Isn't that right, Patrick?

McDermott stops by the table.

McDERMOTT

KIMBALL! How's the investigation?

Talking to Bateman? Don't believe a word he says.

(Laughs uproariously slapping him on the back)

Bateman, what's wrong with ,you?

Bateman looks at him in silence,

panicking.

McDERMOTT

You can't eat at Smith and Wollensky

without ordering the hash browns. Jesus, Bateman, you're a

raving maniac. Been at Pierce & Pierce too long.

(He wanders off muttering)

No f***ing hash browns...

INT. PAUL OWEN'S APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

Bateman walks into the lobby of Paul Owen's building. He

has a surgical mask in one hand.

DOORMAN:

What can I do for you, sir?

BATEMAN:

20B.

DOORMAN:

Of course. Mrs. Wolfe is up there right now.

BATEMAN:

Mrs. Wolfe?

DOORMAN:

The real estate agent? You do have an appointment,

don't you?

Bateman steps out of the elevator and walks cautiously down

the hallway. Owen's door is open. The apartment is freshly

painted and has been immaculately redecorated in English

country-house style: overstuffed sofas, lots of chintz. There

are flowers everywhere, and a YOUNG YUPPIE COUPLE stands

admiring the place talkingto the realtor, MRS. WOLFE. Bateman

wanders down the hallway, looking for familiar signs. He stops

at the closet where we last saw two dead girls hanging. He

opens the door and the light switches on, but it is empty. Mrs.

Wolfe approaches, smiling.

MRS. WOLFE

Are you my two o'clock?

BATEMAN:

No.

Mrs. Wolfe eyes him strangely, then looks down at the

surgical mash clutched in his hand. Her expression changes.

MRS. WOLFE

Can I help you?

BATEMAN:

I'm looking for...Paul Owen's...place.

She stares at him impassively.

BATEMAN:

Doesn't he live here?

MRS. WOLFE

No, he doesn't.

BATEMAN:

Are you sure?

MRS. WOLFE

You saw the ad in the Times?

BATEMAN:

No. Yes. I mean yes, I did. In the Times. But...

doesn't Paul Owen still live here?

MRS. WOLFE

There was no ad in the Times.

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