Copycat Page #7

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M.J.

(maddeningly)

God, you're cute when you're mad.

The door opens and RUBEN enters, instantly takes in the

scene:
M.J. sitting in front of a stalled machine, NIKKO,

looming over her. After an awkward beat, NIKKO heads for

the door. Ignoring RUBEN, he barks at M.J.

NIKKO:

Think about it.

RUBEN regards M.J., who busies herself examining the other

tapes.

RUBEN:

What's wrong with him?

M.J.

He's just mad he let me keep the

espresso machine. We heard from

Doctor Hudson?

RUBEN:

Nada. Lemme make the call.

M.J.

Honest to God, Ruben!

RUBEN:

I like women like that!

M.J.

Tell it to your shrink.

CUT TO:

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO RESIDENTIAL AREA - LATE DAY

IN THE UNMISTAKABLE STYLE OF THE CAMERA EYE WE HAVE SEEN

SHOOTING HELEN'S PLACE, IN THE PARK, ETC.: A YOUNG

RED-HEADED WOMAN, wearing shorts and an open-necked shirt,

kneels on the grass, weeding a lush flowerbed. The CAMERA

SWISHHPANS TO the back door of the house as a man comes out

balancing a tray with drinks. The woman gives the man a

dazzling smile, removes her gardening glove and takes a

glass. Her husband bends down, gives her a little kiss.

She beams. FREEZE FRAME.

CUT TO:

INT. HELEN'S LIVING ROOM - LATE DAY

CLOSE UP:
early crime scene photos.

WE SEE FOR THE FIRST TIME THE FIRST TWO MURDER VICTIMS, SO

WE SEE THE PATTERN HELEN DESCRIBES AND ANALYZES.

HELEN (V.O.)

The way he's posed the bodies...

he's flaunting his power to do

whatever he wants to her. This

man... He probably seems perfectly

normal. These murders are organized

and planned.

WE ARE NOW SEEING THE ROOM: M.J. AND RUBEN, HELEN AT A TABLE

IN HER OFFICE LAYING OUT THE PICTURES. Helen picks out one

picture from the rest...

HELEN:

Except for this one. You put that

one in to test me.

M.J. nods, pleased with HELEN>

INSERT:
THE PICTURE. The victim's body is covered with

bruises. But, unlike the others, her face has been covered.

HELEN (V.O.)

Is it an ongoing case?

BACK TO SCENE...

M.J.

(nods)

For months... last October.

HELEN:

It was a lover or a husband.

Someone close. Somebody who knew

her and cared about her.

M.J.

(glancing at Ruben)

How do you know that?

HELEN:

He felt remorse. He covered her.

HELEN arranges and rearranges photos like tarot cards.

HELEN:

The bodies have been carefully

arranged... different positions,

but somehow the same. The

positions are brutal... yet

quite... artful. It's like... a

signature. He's proud of his

accomplishments. There are early

Picassos and late Picassos, but you

always recognize the hand. He

wants us to recognize his hand.

I've seen this hand before... what

are you hiding?

M.J.

(taken aback)

Nothing.

HELEN:

Where are the stockings he

strangled them with?

M.J.

How did you know they were

stockings?

HELEN:

(sarcastic)

I sent Andy out on murder missions.

For God's sake -- it's the Boston

Strangler, Alber deSalvo. He used

their own stockings to strangle

them. Tied in a bow-knot.

She gets down a file from her bookcase and flops it open to

pictures of deSalvo's victims: they are identical...

HELEN:

Somebody is imitating his m.o.

Look for a plumber or carpenter or

handyman; that's how deSalvo got in

the door and caught them off guard.

RUBEN:

The Boston Strangler, when was

that...?

HELEN:

In the sixties. He's dead --

stabbed to death in prison.

M.J.

Why imitate a dead serial killer?

HELEN:

If you knew why, you might know

where to look for him.

I don't envy you this; he's not

done -- he's going to do them faster

and faster to keep the adrenaline

rush. Now, I've done what you

asked me.

M.J.

Work with me.

ANDY (O.S.)

It's good for you.

They are startled by his appearance! A little unsettling.

ANDY:

It's good medicine.

RUBEN:

A little homeopathic cure for the

willies.

HELEN:

(exhausted)

None of you know anything about it.

Now go. And Andy, if you persist

in playing doctor, leave, with

them.

ANDY:

I'm the only friend you've got,

darling, and I don't intend to stop

doing what I think is good for us.

HELEN:

Get out! All of you!

Andy helps M.J. and Ruben scoop up the files...

RUBEN:

You said you don't give a f*** and

that's the beauty of a breakdown?

This doesn't look like not giving a

f***, you know that?

M.J.

Let's get out of here...

INT. HALL - CONTINUOUS

As they leave, Andy is still at the door...

HELEN (V.O.)

(small voice)

Andy! Please. Don't you go!

INT. QUINN'S OFFICE - NIGHT

QUINN:

Aw, Jesus. The Mouth gets a load

of this and we got major headlines

around the world. deSalvo redux.

The matter, you think they don't

teach Latin in Catholic schools?

M.J.

Don't swear at me because we got

problems. I'm just giving you the

news. I went to a Catholic school;

I'll tell you what they teach. On

the knuckles they teach.

QUINN:

Who've I got to beat up except the

messenger? Does this give us

anything to go on?

M.J.

I'm checking out anybody who lives

like DeSalvo. Records of arrests

for rape, especially by a man

wearing green. Checking out

psychiatric hospitals for his

personality profile. Cross check-

ing names from arrests for sexual

offenses, public fondling. If

they've got a German wife. We can

keep cops working on this kind of

junk for years, and this guy's

going to hit again, soon.

QUINN:

(morose)

I know. Get out here.

M.J.

So. Do we tell the media and hope

for somebody to come forward with

information?

QUINN:

Or for some new nutcase to copycat

the copycat.

RUBEN:

What I love, the big fight, some

girl, she drops the quarter on her

boyfriend so the bastard spends the

night in custody, just to teach him

a lesson. We'll get a shitload of

those.

QUINN:

Another country heard from.

(deciding)

No. We're keeping it quiet, don't

give the bastard the attention he's

maybe begging for.

CUT TO:

INT. HELEN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

HELEN sits at side-by-side computers. The chess game is

again in progress.

HELEN makes a move. Pleased with herself, she smiles,

types, "I'm creaming you."

Suddenly over HELEN'S shoulder, the other screen becomes

active, we see 'Message for Helen Hudson.'

Engrossed in her own chess game, she does not notice the

screen until, tense from sitting too long, with waiting for

CHESSMASTER'S move, HELEN begins to stretch her neck and

toll her head. Now, out of the corner of her eye, she sees

the other screen. Quickly, she clicks on this, and the

screen prints out 'A GAME FOR DR. HUDSON PLEASE RUN THIS

"TOMORROW.AVI" FILE ON YOUR PLAYER.'

HELEN TYPES 'WIN' AND WINDOWS SCREEN COMES UP. WITH THE

MOUSE SHE CLICKS ON THE AVI PLAYER ICON, TYPES IN

"TOMORROW.AVI" AND HITS ENTER.

A PICTURE APPEARS: IT IS THE FACE OF THE WOMAN IN THE

BATHTUB. IT CHANGES AFTER A TENTH OF A SECOND MORPHING

THROUGH A COLLAGE OF IMAGES OF TWO WOMEN. A hand emerges

from a breast of the other. Two heads. One, properly on

its own neck, the other emerging from between two legs.

Hands, feet, breasts, hair of two bodies mixed mischievously

into one FINAL IMAGE OF A SECOND WOMAN ALIVE AND SMILING

ECSTATICALLY AT THE CAMERA. Both women wear their hair in

long braids.

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