Conspiracy Theory Page #7

Jerry's suddenly fighting to keep his eyes open.

JERRY:

What a day. Wish I could tell you

so it made sense.

He tries to sit up. She eases him back down.

LIZA:

Just relax.

JERRY:

Switch the charts.

LIZA:

What?

Jerry's as serious as a guy about to pass out can be.

JERRY:

Switch 'em. Or I'll be dead by

morning. Don't want to be dead.

LIZA:

I'll see you tomorrow.

As Jerry eases back into the mattress.

JERRY:

Wouldn't bet on it.

As Liza starts to go...

JERRY:

Hey...

(as Liza looks back)

I can't control it. It's just,

something that happened.

LIZA:

What is?

JERRY:

Love.

They look at each other a moment. Then, as Jerry's eyes

flutter.

JERRY:

Switch 'em.

A long sigh and Jerry's out. Liza starts out, then

stops, laughs at herself as she realizes what she needs

to do. Stepping over, she switches the chart at the foot

of Jerry's bed with that of his unconscious roommate.

This guy's handcuffed to the bed frame.

Liza looks at Jerry a beat, sighs, then exits.

CUT TO:

EXT. LIZA'S APARTMENT BUILDING - WINDOW - NIGHT

Back on the treadmill. Liza practically sprints. Her

teeth grit. Driven near collapse. Like she's punishing

herself. As we PULL BACK, leaving her to her demons...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. HOSPITAL - POLICE WARD - HALLWAY - DAY

The next day. Liza, arriving, stops short as an orderly

flanked by a COP, wheels a sheet-covered body out of 322.

LIZA:

What happened?

COP:

Guy came in with a gunshot wound,

but he died of a heart attack. Go

figure.

Fearing the worst, Liza pulls back the sheet. It's

Jerry's roommate. The guy who got Jerry's chart.

COP:

Are you Miss Sutton?

Liza looks up, nods.

COP:

They said send you downstairs.

LIZA:

Who?

COP:

The F.B.I., the C.I.A. You name

the initials and they're down

there.

LIZA:

Any special reason?

COP:

All I know is, they said to send

you and the body to the basement.

They think the dead guy is Jerry. Liza eyes the door.

LIZA:

I'll be right down.

INT. HOSPITAL - ROOM 322 - DAY

Jerry sits in bed, one hand cuffed to the bed rail.

LIZA:

People do have heart attacks.

JERRY:

Sure. You switched the charts,

didn't you?

Liza doesn't answer. Jerry jubilant. This is big.

JERRY:

It's okay. The guy traded bullets

with some old man in a liquor

store. He had it coming.

LIZA:

You expect me to believe what,

that someone came in here last

night. Gave that guy... something

that stopped his heart?

JERRY:

You switched the charts; you tell

me.

LIZA:

I got to get downstairs. The

C.I.A., they want to see your

body.

JERRY:

Really?

She nods. Jerry regards the cuff, then her.

JERRY:

I won't be here when you get back,

but I'll be in touch. And thanks.

LIZA:

For what?

JERRY:

You saved my life.

LIZA:

Heart attacks happen.

Liza exits. Jerry thinks, smiles. He dips his hand into

his oatmeal, smears it across his chin, onto his chest.

INT. HOSPITAL BASEMENT - DAY

Liza steps off the elevator, is met by AGENT LOWRY.

Darkly handsome, Lowry is all business with a twinkly in

his eye.

LOWRY:

Ms. Sutton? Agent Lowry, F.B.I.

They shake hands. Both impressed with each other.

LOWRY:

We're waiting for jurisdictional

problems to be cleared up. This

guy Fletcher's something else.

LIZA:

Tell me about it.

LOWRY:

While we walk.

(they move briskly)

D.C. police want him for assault.

Secret Service for counterfeiting

and we're tracking him on a string

of bank robberies. No one knows

what the C.I.A. wants him for.

LIZA:

Wait --

OPERATING THEATER

Lowry enters ahead of her. The body is here. All backs

are to Lowry and Liza. Wilson from Justice looks back

over his shoulder. The other five are CIA. One man

stands a bit apart. Lowry points him out, whispers into

Liza's ear.

LOWRY:

Guy's a C.I.A. shrink. Here to

I.D. Fletcher. They knew each

other somehow.

LIZA:

You don't understand --

Lowry shushes her. The sheet is pulled away to reveal

Jerry's roommate. His back still to us, the CIA

PSYCHIATRIST is not happy.

PSYCHIATRIST:

This isn't him.

WILSON:

(turning)

Liza?

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