Batman Page #5

JACK:

We can always pop him. -- Or pop

someone close to him.

LIEUTENANT:

Let's feed him to the bat.

This suggestion draws CHUCKLES from several members of the

crowd. GRISSOM is unamused.

GRISSOM:

He's going after our front

companies. Specifically Ace

Chemical. Which would tie us

in with Councilman Kane, Senator

Miller... on up the line.

(pause)

We have to clean out our files

before the subpoena comes down.

LIEUTENANT:

How do we go? The usual fire?

GRISSOM:

I'm thinking break-in. Trash the

office, remove the relevant

documents...

JACK:

"Industrial espionage."

GRISSOM:

That's right. And Jack --

(pause)

I'd like you to handle this

operation personally.

JACK has just turned up the third ace off the top of the

deck. His hand freezes in midair.

JACK:

... Me?

At this exact moment, METAL DOORS slide back -- and ALICIA

HUNT steps out of GRISSOM's private penthouse elevator.

She's carrying a handful of SHOPPING BAGS.

GRISSOM:

Hello, sweetheart. I wonder if you'd

mind waiting in the other room.

ALICIA's gaze meets JACK's as she vanishes through a side

door. The eye contact is not lost on GRISSOM.

JACK:

Why do you need me to handle a

simple break-in?

GRISSOM:

(emphatically)

Because I want someone I can

trust.

JACK bridles, but doesn't protest. Nervously, he turns the

fourth card off the top of the deck. It's not an ace.

It's a JOKER -- a Joker with a neat, round, .22 calibre

HOLE through its face.

GRISSOM (cont.)

We'll work out the details later.

But it's got to be soon. -- All

right, that's all for now.

GRISSOM'S CRONIES get up to go. JACK, troubled, lingers

behind a moment.

GRISSOM (cont.)

You don't mind, do you Jack? It's an

important job. I can't trust it to

somebody who'll screw up.

JACK:

I understand.

GRISSOM:

(smiling)

Jack. Don't forget your lucky deck.

JACK pockets the deck and leaves. GRISSOM sits behind the

big desk and GRINS WOLFISHLY.

GRISSOM (cont.)

My friend, your luck is just about

to change.

He reaches for the phone. ALICIA appears in the doorway

nearby, modeling her new purchases for him. He smiles

coolly at her as he speaks into the receiver.

GRISSOM (cont.)

Get me Lieutenant Eckhardt.

CUT TO:

EXT. WAYNE MANOR - ESTABLISHING - NIGHT

A vast, rambling mansion on sixty wooded acres a half-

hour's drive from Gotham: old money, and how. Out front, a

team of red-jacketed VALETS are parking expensive cars.

INT. BALLROOM - NIGHT

A DEALER'S HAND pushes cards out of a shoe (the card kind,

not the Florsheim kind). It's casino night at Wayne Manor;

the ballroom has been outfitted with roulette wheels,

blackjack tables, etc., and the various members of Gotham's

power elite are happily -- and legally -- throwing money

into Harvey Dent's campaign kitty.

DENT himself is surrounded by a gang of political cronies,

telling jokes, calling in favors. VICKI's off in another

group, looking luscious, drawing compliments from big shots

and envious, furtive glances from their wives. And, in a

corner of the room, all alone in his cheap suit, stands

ALEXANDER KNOX -- staring inquisitively up at the ceiling.

A butler, ALFRED, appears alongside KNOX with a trayful of

champagne glasses. He too looks up at the ceiling.

KNOX:

How high up would you say that is?

ALFRED:

I'd say about thirty feet, sir.

KNOX:

You know, if you cut your bathroom

in half, you'd have my apartment.

ALFRED:

Which bathroom is that, air?

KNOX:

The small one.

KNOX takes a drink and ALFRED moves on. A moment later,

VICKI detaches herself from her little circle of admirers

and hooks up with KNOX.

KNOX (cont.)

Man, I feel like Robin Leach. You

actually know all these people?

VICKI:

Some. I am a rich b*tch, remember.

(pause)

I'm quoting.

KNOX winces at the reminder. She smiles and takes his arm.

KNOX:

Yeah, I guess we move in different

circles. -- Though I did meet a

one-eyed pimp last week.

ANGLE ON JAMES W. GORDON

Gotham's Police Commissioner, a distinguished-looking gent

in his late fifties. He's at a craps table, blowing into

his fist. ONLOOKERS root him on as he lets the dice fly.

Snake eyes. Crapped out. GORDON passes the dice as KNOX and

VICKI wander up alongside him.

KNOX:

Commissioner Gordon! What do you

hear from our pointy-eared friend?

KNOX puts his hands up behind his head and wiggles his

fingers -- like little bat ears. GORDON groans.

GORDON:

Knox, for the ninth time, and you

can quote me -- there is no bat.

KNOX:

Aww, Commissioner. There's gotta be

one honest cop in Gotham city.

HARVEY DENT is working the room. He ambles up, claps a

friendly hand on GORDON's shoulder.

DENT:

How's your luck, Jim?

KNOX:

Mr. Dent. What's your stand on

winged vigilantes?

DENT exchanges a meaningful look with GORDON.

DENT:

Mr. Knox, I think we have enough

real problems in this city without

worrying about ghosts and goblins

and Halloween characters.

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