Brazil Page #16

69 INT. THE LIFT 69

SAM presses the button for the 50th floor. The lift doors

close on him and the CHARLADY. From somewhere far away

there is the groaning shriek of a man in pain. SAM glances

around the lift. There appears to be an air conditioning

vent in the ceiling.

SAM glances enquiringly at the CHARLADY who merely smiles

at him. Another scream is heard.

SAM:

What's that?

The CHARLADY smiles again.

Doesn't that disturb you?

The CHARLADY fiddles with something in her ears and pulls

out a pair of wax earplugs.

CHARLADY:

Beg your pardon?

The lift arrives.

70 INT. 50TH FLOOR CORRIDORDAY 70

The lift arrives. SAM steps out. The CHARLADY remains in

the lift. The doors close. SAM heads down surgically clean

white-tiled corridor.

Passing a white-coated TECHNICIAN monitoring what appears

to be electric meters, SAM comes to a door with 5001.

Above the door a red light is glowing. SAM knocks. The red

light goes out and a green light comes on. SAM enters.

71 INT. ROOM 500lDAY 71

Inside there is a connecting door to he next door room but

the only person in the immediate room is a pleasant-

looking FEMALE typist, wearing headphones, chewing gum and

typing with great facility. SAM approaches the TYPIST who,

busily typing, twinkles a greeting (mimed) and silently

mouths the words ...

TYPIST:

It won't be long now.

(she carries on typing)

SAM nods, and stands quietly by her. He can hear tiny

sounds coming through her headphones. He looks down at the

piece of paper in the typewriter. He reacts a bit

strangely, perhaps even winces. We see he close up of the

words being struck crisply on paper.

ON TYPEWRITER:

AHHHH, Oh God ... No, don't ... UHH,

please ... I ... STOP!! I can't stand

... AIIEEEE.

TYPIST:

(quietly, still typing)

Can I help you?

She is looking at SAM helpfully, holding one of the

earphones away from her ear. From this earphone we can

just hear quietly ...

EARPHONE:

Oooooooh ... aaaaaahhh ... please ...

arrrrrghhhh no ... please ... Oh God,

No ... No, stop, I don't know ...

SAM:

I'm looking for Officer 412/L.

The TYPIST nods smiling. She puts back the earphone and

carries on typing.

TYPIST:

I'm sure he won't be long now.

She types a little more but suddenly stops.

I thought so!

She takes off the earphones and takes the paper and

carbonums out of her typewriter and starts collating all

the different copies.

Through the frosted glass door leading into the next area,

SAM can see a FIGURE come through a double door and turn

left, making a silly 'hi' sign to the TYPIST as he exits

from sight. She is charmed. Almost immediately after them,

a white-coated TECHNICIAN exits, but to the left.

TYPIST:

You can go in now.

72 INT. JACK'S OFFICE DAY 72

SAM goes through the glass door and is about to push open

the double doors in front of him. He is halted by a noise

from the TYPIST - she indicates that he is to go to the

left. He does so and enters an office. An antique desk

with a large collection of executive toys and other

tastefully reassuring furniture fill the room which is a

rather oddly shaped ... distorted as it by the curved wall

of the much larger room that SAM was stopped from

entering. Nevertheless the feel of the room is confidently

successful. A buzzing noise draws SAM's attention to the

wash basin in the far corner. The Information Retrieval

TECHNICIAN is standing by a sink massing his temples with

old-fashioned scalp vibrators. His back to us.

SAM:

Excuse me. Are you officer 412/L?

The TECHNICIAN makes no sign of having heard this. He

continues vibrating his temples.

SAM:

(a bit louder)

Er, excuse me!

Getting no response SAM walks over to the TECHNICIAN. As

he passes the desk he notices a strange mask lying face

down on the desk top. It seems strangely familiar - but as

it is a negative concave image SAM isn't sure. He

continues over to the TECHNICIAN.

SAM:

(louder)

Excuse me.

He touches the TECHNICIAN on the shoulder, who jumps with

a start. He spins around and turns out to be none other

than JACK LINT. He is amazed to see SAM.

SAM:

(surprised)

Jack!!

JACK:

(recovering slightly)

SAM! What a surprise!

SAM:

(even more surprised)

Are you officer 412/L?

JACK looks confused. He pauses, and then removes ear

plugs.

JACK:

(shaking Sam's hand)

Sorry about that ... Mr Helpmann told

me you were coming aboard -

congratulations!

SAM:

Thanks. Are you officer 412/L?

JACK:

For my sins. Are you settling in

alright?

SAM:

Yes, thanks.

JACK:

Terrific. I'm really glad you dropped

by. Unfortunately, I don't have any

time right now I've got a queue of

customers to deal with - er, why

don't we have a drink tonight?

SAM:

(diffidently)

Ah ...

JACK:

What?

SAM:

I don't want to take up your time

now, but I was hoping you could give

me some information on somebody. It's

a security level three matter and

Information Retrieval records says to

refer to you.

JACK:

OK. Come back this afternoon, about

four o'clock. If you give me the

number of the case, I'll have the

dossier here waiting.

(he pulls card from his

pocket - pushes it towards

Sam)

My tailor,... well worth the

investment.

SAM:

(taking print-out sheets

from his pocket)

I've got numbers all over these - I'm

not sure which is the one you want.

JACK:

(looking at the print-out

picture of Jill over Sam's

shoulder)

Layton! Oh sh*t!

SAM:

What is it?

JACK:

You clever bastard! I might have

guessed. You only moved in today and

you're already hot on the bloody

trail.

SAM:

Am I?

JACK:

Please, Sam, we're going to have to be open to each other

on this one. If you make a reputation with this case,

it'll be at my expense.

SAM:

How do you mean?

JACK:

How much do you know?

SAM:

Not much.

JACK:

Enough though, eh?

SAM:

(getting sucked into this

exchange)

Not really, no.

JACK goes over to the sink and turns on the taps full

blast, splashing the water noisily into the basin.

JACK:

OK. OK. Let's not fence around ...

This is the situation. Some idiot

somewhere in the building, some

insect, confused two of our clients,

B58/732 and T47/215.

SAM:

B58/732, that's A. Buttle isn't it?

JACK:

Christ! You do know it all!

SAM:

No, no, I don't. I'm just beginning

Honestly. Sorry, carry on.

JACK:

Well, your A. Buttle has been

confused with T47/215, an A. Tuttle.

I mean, it's a joke! Somebody should

be shot for that. So B58/732 was

pulled in by mistake.

SAM:

You got the wrong man.

JACK:

(a little heated)

I did not get the wrong man. I got

the right man. The wrong man was

delivered to me as the right man! I

accepted him, on trust, as the right

man. Was I wrong? Anyway, to add to

the confusion, he died on us. Which,

had he been the right man, he

wouldn't have done.

SAM:

You killed him?

JACK:

(annoyed)

Sam, there are very rigid parameters

laid down to avoid that event but

Buttle's heart condition did not

appear on Tuttle's file. Don't think

I'm dismissing this business, Sam.

I've lost a week's sleep over it

already.

SAM:

I'm sure you have

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