Dark City Page #5

Bumstead looks at her for a moment.

BUMSTEAD:

I suppose you can help. This office

needs to be put into order. I'm

looking for files on the serial

killer case.

CRENSHAW:

Certainly, sir. I'll get on it

right away.

BUMSTEAD:

Kowolski was a little... paranoid.

He probably set more traps, so be

careful. Get a couple of uniforms

to help you. Bring any files you

find to me.

CRENSHAW:

Uniforms?

BUMSTEAD:

Police officers, Miss Crenshaw.

Bumstead turns to walk away.

CRENSHAW:

You wonít regret this, sir.

Bumstead just moves off.

INT. BUMSTEAD'S OFFICE - LATER

TRACK PAST towering files bursting at the seams with paperwork, TO

FIND Bumstead hunched over notes, photographs, reports.

SUDDENLY a steaming cup goes down in front of him

Bumstead looks up to see Crenshaw standing in front of him. She

clutches another big pile of paperwork which she puts down on his

already overcrowded desk.

CRENSHAW:

Are we making progress?

He looks at her like she just slapped him.

BUMSTEAD:

There are so many leads here, and

none of them organised or followed

up... I don't understand it at all.

Bumstead picks up the cup Crenshaw placed before him, takes a sip

- and nearly gags.

CRENSHAW:

Something wrong?

BUMSTEAD:

It's coffee. I don't drink coffee.

CRENSHAW:

Oh...

BUMSTEAD:

Get a hold of Capek for me, will

you.

CRENSHAW:

Capek?

BUMSTEAD:

Forensics.

CRENSHAW:

Right away.

She goes to leave then stops.

CRENSHAW:

(Cont.)

Is there something you do drink?

Bumstead's already buried in the files - he doesn't look up.

BUMSTEAD:

Tea. Milk. One sugar.

She smiles enthusiastically and leaves. Bumstead watches her go,

then looks down at the file in front of him.

HIS P.O.V. - a tattered business card is clipped to some

documents. It says in simple print: DOCTOR D.P. SCHREBER.

EXT. FLYING P.O.V. - NIGHT

A FLYING PERSPECTIVE past buildings. Way down BELOW, in a canyon of

silent buildings, a LONE FIGURE walks.

EXT. DOWN ON THE STREET - NIGHT

Wind pulls at WALKERíS hair and coat. He takes out the wallet - a

few dollars.

HIS P.O.V. AS HE WALKS

The city is DEAD. Empty. Desolate. Buildings hang down out of the

gloom. Day-light was never invented here.

As he puts the wallet back in his pocket, a BUSINESS CARD flutters

to the ground. He stops, picks it up. It's one of Schreber's cards

(like the one Bumstead found). Scribbled handwriting on the back

says:
Thursday 0930.

ON WALKER - he glances across the street now.

HIS P.O.V. - a cafe. A broken NEON FISH buzzes ON/OFF above the

doorway.

INT. CHINESE CAFE - NIGHT

Walker climbs rickety stairs into a small room with a half dozen

tables. Empty. Dirty. He sits and puts his face in his hands.

A CLOCK ticks on the wall.

A NOISE from a doorway. A SHADOW moves towards him, dragging one

foot as it walks: A TINY ASIAN WOMAN appears and limps to his

table. She speaks very quickly IN CHINESE.

Walker obviously doesn't understand a word she says.

She points to a chalk board on the wall - a list of dishes also in

Chinese, only one in English - the last one, at the bottom, in

small print:
"NOODLES".

WALKER:

(nods)

Okay. Give me the noodles.

The old woman rips a YELLOW TICKET from a pad, gives it to Walker.

A number on it. She points her crooked finger again - at a SPEAKER

BOX above a small serving window in the wall.

WOMAN:

We call.

She leaves.

Walker looks about the empty room.

An old air-conditioner RATTLES noisily.

NOISES from the kitchen - voices argue in Chinese, a baby cries.

Then SILENCE.

Walker removes the one newspaper clipping he managed to save from

his coat and starts to read.

INT. BATH-HOUSE - NIGHT

DOCTOR SCHRBER walks down a long corridor.

People in towels and swimming outfits sit and stand silently lined

by a wall, staring into space.

Schreber walks into a tiled room thick with steam. He walks the

length of a large heated pool - one or two people swim about

weakly or sit on the edge washing themselves.

TIGHT ON SCHREBER - He removes his clothes and steps gently into

the tepid pool.

The last we see of the doctor, he is immersing himself in the water

as a big cloud of steam obscures him.

INT. CHINESE CAFE

Walker is still waiting for his food.

Layed out in front of him on the table are all the clues of his

existence.

he looks closely at the card from "Neptune's Kingdom". He turns it

over. On the back is a scrawled name: KARL - it says.

He yawns. His head nods forward briefly.

A NOISE. Walker looks up.

A TRAP-DOOR has opened in the ceiling. Two feet in black leather

shoes descend from the hole. A sea breeze blows through the room.

The SOUND OF SURF, SEAGULLS CRY.

One by one, THREE FIGURES lower into the room, floating on air.

They land gently, step forward.

Walker is too scared to move.

ON THE MEN - though their faces cannot be seen clearly in the

gloom, they are obviously STRANGERS. They walk to Walker and lean

over him.

STRANGER 1

Donít fall asleep.

(chuckles softly)

Might never wake, yes.

This man turns to the others. They all smile, then turn back to

Walker.

STRANGERS:

(together)

Fifty-six.

ANGLE - a chair falls to the floor.

Walker LEAPS UP from the table, terrified, disoriented. Just a

DREAM - he had dozed.

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