Crime Spree Page #2

Marcel glances at Bastaldi to see if he appreciates his comments.

RAYMOND:

A Black Panther was a member of an African

American militant group in the sixties,

Marcel. I think you're referring to The

Pink Panther.

MARCEL:

Pink panther, black panther. Who gives

a sh*t? And I don't remember asking you

a God Damn thing, you little turd.

RAYMOND:

There's no reason to be abusive. You're

projecting your anger on me as a defense

mechanism.

MARCEL:

What the hell is he talking about?

RAYMOND:

I'm talking about human beings

communicating openly and honestly.

MARCEL:

How about getting on your knees and

communicating with my dick?

BASTALDI:

Shut up! Both of you! You're giving me

a f***in' headache.

A beat. Raymond and Marcel stare at one another. We HEAR a muffled

GROANING SOUND in the b.g.

DANIEL:

Where's your brother?

BASTALDI:

Vincent's in the States on business.

(a beat; referring to

the painting)

That it?

Daniel lays the cardboard tube containing the painting on the desk.

Bastaldi removes the painting. To him it is not a work of art,

just a commodity to be sold. He opens his desk drawer, removes

several large stacks of money and hands them to Daniel.

BASTALDI:

Okay. Now I've got something I want to --

We HEAR the groaning sound again. Bastaldi looks irritated. He

gets up and walks over to a closet. He opens to the doors to reveal

a man in his underwear, his wrists tied behind his back, his mouth

taped shut. A wire noose is around his neck forcing him to stand

on his tip toes to avoid hanging himself.

BASTALDI:

Do you mind? I'm trying to do some

business here.

The man looks at Bastaldi through pleading eyes and mumbles

something.

BASTALDI:

One more sound out of you and I'm going

to cut your f***in' tongue out.

Bastaldi closes the door. Daniel looks at him inquisitively.

BASTALDI:

You take someone in. Give them a steady

job and how do they repay you? By

claiming to misplace a shipment of your

merchandise.

RAYMOND:

Maybe he did misplace it.

BASTALDI:

You misplace your car keys. You misplace

your cell phone.

You do not misplace one hundred and forty

seven wide-screen TV's!

DANIEL:

Laurant, how long has he been in there?

Bastaldi looks puzzled.

BASTALDI:

I don't know. What day is today?

JULIEN:

Thursday.

BASTALDI:

Is it Thursday already? This week has

just shot by.

Bastaldi thinks about something for a moment, then...

BASTALDI:

You and your crew speak English, don't

you?

Daniel is still staring at the closet.

BASTALDI:

Hey Daniel! Hello?

(snaps his fingers)

Do you guys speak English?

DANIEL:

Uh, yeah.

BASTALDI:

Good. I have a job for you in America.

Bastaldi tosses a photo of a middle-aged American couple. He points

to a diamond necklace around the woman's neck.

BASTALDI:

The Taylors from Chicago. Very rich.

An acquaintance of mine recently quit

working for Mrs. Taylor as an assistant.

She tells me they keep all their jewelry

in a safe in their bedroom.

JULIEN:

It seems like a long way to go for a

necklace.

DANIEL:

Besides, we don't know the city and--

MARCEL:

(overlapping)

Mr. Bastaldi isn't asking you if you

want to go.

He's telling you you're going! And if

he's telling you you're going to be going

then you are going to go!

BASTALDI:

Thank you Marcel, for that... extremely

redundant explanation.

DANIEL:

C'mon, Laurant, America?

BASTALDI:

The job is worth about two million euros.

Pull this off and you and your crew could

make some real money, Daniel. You leave

tomorrow.

They know they don't have a choice.

JULIEN:

We're going to need to find someone who

knows the city.

MARCEL:

I know someone.

EXT. NOTRE DAME -- DAY

The plaza is filled with tourists. Moving through the crowd is

SAMI ZERHOUNI, Algerian, late 20's, a small time street hustler,

dressed in jeans and a "I Love Paris" tee-shirt. He passes a

MAN who is about to take a picture and lifts his wallet.

Sami moves on. He sees two overweight women standing at a

vendor's cart, holding a large wad of MONEY. The woman puts the

cash back in her purse, but does not zip it up.

Sami moves in behind her and slips his hand into the purse. She

zips the bag closed. Sami's face fills with pain as the zipper

catches the hair of his arm. The women walk towards the

cathedral. Sami has no choice but follow after them. He tries

to match their pace so he doesn't alert them of his presence.

The woman looks back and sees Sami's hand. She pulls her bag

away, ripping a section of hair off his arm, then swings the

bag, putting all of her weight behind it. It hits Sami squarely

in the face. He lands on his back with a thud. WALLETS and

BILLFOLDS fly out from every one of his pockets.

He staggers to his feet and starts to pick up the wallets when

he sees...

HIS POV -- ACROSS THE PLAZA: of two police officers moving

towards him .

He knows he has no more time. He takes off running, disappearing

into the crowd.

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