Charade Page #5

2ND DIPLOMATIC TYPE

What's so depressing about that?

1ST DIPLOMATIC TYPE

If I can do it, what are the Russians

doing to him?

The elevator door closes on them. REGGIE reacts to this and

starts down the hall, finally stopping at the door.

70.MED. SHOT -- DOOR

It is marked "307-A H. BARTHOLOMEW." REGGIE checks the

letter, then opens the door.

71.INT. BARTHOLOMEW'S OUTER OFFICE -- DAY

The office is empty, the typewriter on the secretary's desk

is covered with its plastic shroud. REGGIE enters, looks

for somebody, notices that the door to the private office is

slightly ajar.

REGGIE (tentatively)

Hello -- ? (there is no answer) Hello?

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

(from the private office) Is there anything

wrong, Miss Tompkins?

REGGIE:

Uh -- Miss Tompkins isn't here.

BARTHOLOMEW comes to the door and looks in. He is a pale

grey-haired man who looks, on first examination, older than

his forty-odd years. Sickly would be the word that describes

him best -- pallid, consumptive-looking. He wears heavy

tortoise-framed glasses which fall down his nose and cause

him to push them back in place every so often with a quick

automatic motion.

BARTHOLOMEW:

I'm sorry -- my secretary must have gone

to lunch. You are -- ?

REGGIE:

Mrs. Lampert -- Mrs. Charles Lampert.

BARTHOLOMEW (looking at his watch)

Come in, Mrs. Lampert. You're quite late.

He motions for her to enter, standing aside to let her do so.

72.INT. BARTHOLOMEW'S PRIVATE OFFICE -- DAY

A small cubicle -- there is a silver-framed photo of three

kids on the desk. BARTHOLOMEW indicates a chair, then

goes behind his desk and sits. A can of lighter fluid

stands open on the desk and a crumpled hankie beside it.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Excuse me for a moment, Mrs. Lampert --

it's a stubborn little devil.

He works at a stain on his necktie with lighter fluid and

hankie.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Dry-cleaningwise, things are all fouled

up. I had a good man - an excellent

man on the Rue Ponthieu, but H.Q. asked us to

use the plant here in the building -- to ease the

gold outflow.

REGGIE:

Mr. Bartholomew -- are you sure you know

who I am?

BARTHOLOMEW (looking up)

Charles Lampert's widow -- yes? (going back

to the tie) Last time I sent out a tie

only the spot came back.

He looks up at her, laughs silently, then goes back to his

tie.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Voil�! As they say.

He puts away the lighter fluid in a desk drawer, smells

the hankie, passes on it, then sticks it in his pocket.

He opens another drawer and pulls out various sandwiches

wrapped in waxpaper, a salt and pepper shaker, a tube of

mustard, a bottle of red wine and two Dixie cups.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Have some, please. I've got . . . (checking)

. . . liverwurst -- liverwurst -- chicken and --

liverwurst.

REGGIE:

No thanks.

He uncorks the wine, fills a cup and begins eating.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Do you know what C.I.A. is, Mrs. Lampert?

REGGIE:

I don't suppose it's an airline, is it?

BARTHOLOMEW:

Central Intelligence Agency -- C.I.A.

REGGIE (surprised)

You mean spies and things like that?

BARTHOLOMEW:

Only we call them agents.

REGGIE:

We? You mean you're --?

BARTHOLOMEW:

Someone has to do it, Mrs. Lampert --

REGGIE:

I'm sorry, it's just that I didn't think that

you people were supposed to admit --

BARTHOLOMEW:

I'm not an agent, Mrs. Lampert -- I'm an administrator

-- a desk jockey -- trying to run a bureau

of overworked men with under-allocated funds.

Congress seems to think that all a spy needs --

REGGIE:

Agent.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Yes -- That all he needs is a code book and a

cyanide pill and he's in business.

REGGIE:

What's all this got to do with me, Mr. Bartholomew?

BARTHOLOMEW (his mouth full)

Your husband was wanted by the U. S. government.

REGGIE (a pause)

May I have a sandwich, please?

He hands her a sandwich and fills a wine-cup for her.

BARTHOLOMEW:

To be more specific, he was wanted by this agency.

REGGIE (eating)

So that was it.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Yes. We knew him, of course, by his real name.

REGGIE (almost choking)

His -- real -- ?

BARTHOLOMEW:

Voss -- Charles Voss. All right, Mrs. Voss --

(taking a photo from his desk) -- I'd like you

to look at this photograph, please -- by the

way, you saw this one, didn't you? (indicating

the kids on the desk) Scott, Cathy, and Ham, Jr.

REGGIE:

Very sweet.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Aren't they? Now look at this one, Mrs. Voss, and --

REGGIE:

Stop calling me that! Lampert's the name on

the marriage license.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Yes -- and tell me if you recognize anyone.

Just a moment. Have a good look.

He reaches back into the drawer and pulls out a glass which

he gives her.

73.CLOSE SHOT -- PHOTO

FOUR MEN, all in army uniform, sitting behind a table. The

glass is held over the first, magnifying the face.

74.CLOSER SHOT -- PHOTO

It's a photo of a young CHARLES LAMPERT.

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

It's Charles!

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

Very good.

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

He looks so young -- when was this taken?

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

1944. The next face, please.

The glass and CAMERA move to the next man -- a young TEX.

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

It's the man who came to the funeral

yesterday -- I'm sure of it -- a tall

man in a corduroy suit and string tie.

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

Does the name Tex Penthollow mean

anything to you?

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

No.

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

Next, please.

The glass and CAMERA move to the third face -- a young GIDEON.

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

Yes -- and he was there, too -- a little

fatter now -- and less hair -- but it's

the same one.

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

Do you know him, Mrs. Vo -- Mrs. Lampert?

Leopold W. Gideon?

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

No.

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

The last one, please.

The glass and CAMERA move to the fourth face -- a young

SCOBIE.

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

That's a face you don't forget -- he

was there too --

BARTHOLOMEW'S VOICE (o.s.)

Herman Scobie. And you've never seen

him before, either?

REGGIE'S VOICE (o.s.)

No, thank heaven.

75.MED. SHOT -- REGGIE AND BARTHOLOMEW

BARTHOLOMEW (a pause, regarding her)

Mrs. Lampert, I'm afraid you're in a great

deal of danger.

REGGIE:

Danger? Why should I be in any danger?

BARTHOLOMEW:

You're Charles Voss's wife -- now that he's

dead you're their only lead.

REGGIE:

Mr. Bartholomew -- if you're trying to

frighten me you're doing a really first-

rate job! (she takes another sandwich).

BARTHOLOMEW:

Please, do what we ask, Mrs. Lampert --

it's your only chance.

REGGIE (eating)

Gladly, only I don't know what you want!

You haven't told me.

BARTHOLOMEW:

Oh, haven't I? The money -- Mrs. Lampert --

the money. The $250,000 Charles Voss

received from the auction. Those three

men want it, too -- they want it very badly.

REGGIE:

But it's Charles's money, not theirs.

BARTHOLOMEW (laughing)

Oh, Mrs. Lampert! I'd love to see you

try and convince them of that! (drying

his eyes) Oh, dear.

REGGIE:

Then whose is it? His or theirs?

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