Copycat Page #2

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CLOSE:
HELEN Watching herself in BATHROOM mirror as she

tosses down the pills, gulps water. She regards her haggard

reflection with a certain detachment...

HELEN:

Good God. What happened to you?

She barks a rueful laugh... we are seeing a woman will

herself from near-hysteria to relative calm...

CUT TO:

HALL As she exits the bathroom. And moves into her OFFICE.

She pours herself a brandy and stands before two computers.

Of the side-by-side computer screens, one is blank. The

other shows a chess setup. Flashing on the bottom of the

screen comes a command.

CHESSMASTER:

'It's almost seven. Make a goddam

move.'

She studies the chess set-up for a moment, then makes a

move. She has not even hit the Keyboard of the other

computer before CHESSMASTER sends another message.

CHESSMASTER:

'Lousy move. Not really into this

game, Helen. Let's drop it. I've

got a feeling about you. Let's

meet. Like a date.'

HELEN types the following to CHESSMASTER.

HELEN:

'I'm a terrible date. I'd mess up your

life.'

CHESSMASTER:

'Another romantic dream gone all to

hell.'

HELEN:

'Maybe it's better to just dream

on; avoid the disappointments of

life. Come on, move.'

She pushes a button on the remote, and we see the window

curtains open. BRIGHT SUNLIGHT STREAMS IN! We see that the

T-shirt HELEN wears says "Shrinks 'R' Us." She crosses to

the window with her glass of cognac, looks out.

VIEW:

A sweeping view of the bay, and across to Marin County. The

morning sun is dispelling the last of the night's fog.

HELEN opens window, puts a hand outside, trying to feel the

air, the freedom. Feeling quite restored from the dream

horror of the night...

O.S., THE PHONE RINGS. HELEN. A FRISSON.

CLOSE:
PHONE Her hand comes into FRAME and picks up the

handset and carries CAMERA TO CLOSEUP HELEN.

HELEN:

(carefully)

Yes?

(listens)

You son-of-a-b*tch! Son of

a b*tch...

Stiff with fear and rage, she slams down phone.

HELEN:

You filthy... son of a b*tch!

On the computer screen behind her the Chessmaster makes his

move:
the computer speaks in its tiny computer voice:

COMPUTER:

(filter)

You Queen is in check.

Protect your Queen.

OVER CREDITS:

HOME MOVIE of a young woman dressed in a seat suit. It is

morning, and she is jogging on a park path. Her hair is in

a long braid. She is sweating, breathing heavily, clearly

near the end of a satisfactory run.

THE FILM REVERSES, THE FILM STARTS UP AGAIN IN EXTREMELY

SLOW MOTION. WE ARE NOW AWARE THERE IS ANOTHER POINT OF VIEW

AT WORK HERE.

NOW THE FRAME FREEZES AT A POINT WHERE IT MAKES THE JOGGER'S

OPEN-MOUTHED DEEP BREATHING LOOK LIKE

A SCREAM!

END TITLE AND CREDITS:

INT. RIFLE RANGE - DAY

MUZZLE OF SEMI AUTOMATIC PISTOL BLASTS NINE SHOTS ALMOST

DIRECTLY INTO CAMERA. A BEAT OF SILENCE...

THE TARGET:
it is a silhouette of a man's head and torso;

centered in the right side of the upper chest, near the

shoulder, is a small red circle. Still SMOKING, THE HOLES

FROM THE BULLETS are scattered all over the chest, and none

in the circle.

M.J. (V.O.)

My third grade teacher at the

convent shot better than that.

THE SHOOTER, RUBEN GOETZ, AND PARTNER M.J.

RUBEN:

Yeah, but she had divine guidance.

We now take in the shooter, RUBEN, and his companion M.J.

HALLORAN. M.J. is a small, deceptively vulnerable looking

young woman. She is neat, buttoned down, crisp. M.J.

appears to be about twenty-five. She is, in fact,

thirty-four and a homicide inspector with the rank of

sergeant. She is usually dressed in slacks and a loose

sweater or an oversize jacket that helps make her appear

even smaller and younger than she is.

RUBEN GOETZ is also in homicide, about twenty-six and junior

in authority to M.J. RUBEN is good-looking, good-humored

and laid back. He has a cellular phone attached to his

belt.

M.J. PULLS THE LINE THAT DOLLIES THE TARGET BACK TO THEM,

AND RUBEN REPLACES IT WITH ANOTHER AS THEY TALK.

M.J.

I'd feel a whole lot safer with

Sister Loretta for my backup. Look

at this guy:
you shredded him!

RUBEN:

Well, he's dead, he can't hurt me

now.

The target is rigged; they pull the line that dollies it back

to shooting position.

M.J.

It's sloppy shooting. It's in

character, Ruben, but unnecessary.

And bad for your career.

RUBEN LETS OFF THREE QUICK SHOTS: they cluster nearer the

circle. M.J. looks at him in surprise.

RUBEN:

I've been practicing. Now can I

kiss your tummy?

M.J. hides her smile as she prepares her weapon for her turn.

M.J.

Perp's holding a hostage, the

shoulder on his gun hand is gonna

be exposed.

SOUND:
A CELLULAR PHONE (ON RUBENS' BELT). M.J. holds her

fire.

M.J.

Answer it.

RUBEN:

I'm sure she thinks it is. Aren't

you at least interested in which

one it is?

She's lost her concentration lowered the gun; now as he

answers, she raises her gun and aims...

RUBEN:

(into phone)

I'm here, where are you?...

Heeeeyyy! What a surprise! No. On

duty, have to call you back... You,

too, you too. My God, you made my

day.

He hits the "end" button...

M.J.

You hit the brachial nerve...

SHE FIRES! The shots make a perfect heart around the circle,

inside his looser pattern. ONE FINAL SHOT STRIKES EXACTLY

IN THE MIDDLE!

M.J.

You're good enough you'll never

have to kill anyone. I joined the

cops to save lives, not waste them.

RUBEN:

You know, M.J., when I watch you

shoot, I realize I've got a little

problem with my stance... could you

just move over here and critique my

legs?

He slaps his thigh where he indicates the trouble might be.

She is unloading her weapon...

M.J.

The problem is between your legs.

You told your shrink about that?

She is unloading and cleaning up. Ruben doing the same...

RUBEN:

I tell my shrink about you,

Sergeant. I tell him you're the

top cop of my dreams.

Ruben has been gathering up his box of doughnuts, from which

he has nibbled during the preceding... he drops them, picks

one up off the floor and sticks it in his mouth...

M.J.

(putting away her

gear)

Don't take that mess in the car.

They're on the move; as they go away from us...

RUBEN:

He's in love with you already...

CUT TO:

EXT. CRIME SCENE - DAY

They pull up in front of an apartment building in the

Pacific Heights section. Patrol cars flank the street, the

thick yellow ticker tape "POLICE CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS"

is already up. M.J. double parks beside a blue-and-white.

A couple of cars from the media are already there. SUSAN

SCHIFFER a bulldog of a woman, and her camera crew, waylay

M.J. and Ruben as they cross the sidewalk...

M.J.

Oh, Christ, the Mouth is already

here.

She is, with a cameraman with a haircut and smile that speak

of a life of orthodontics and dreams of TV anchorship.

RUBEN:

Hey. And there's the Haircut right

behind. If she stops short he's

gonna be there feet up her ass...

SUSAN:

(on camera)

Inspector, can you...

M.J.

I just got here myself, Susan.

SUSAN:

...confirm this third murder adds

up to a pattern? Do we have a

serial killer on the loose in the

city?

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