Dog Day Afternoon Page #7

MULVANEY:

(tired)

What property is that, Mrs. Anterio?

The Third Avenue property - you

already got a second mortgage on.

We discussed it before...

ANGLE AT VAULT:

The girls are afraid; Miriam unlocks the gate as Sonny uses

Mulvaney's keys to the matching lock.

JENNY:

(from inside vault

area)

You won't close the vault? How can

we breathe?

SONNY:

No, that's okay... just close the

gate...

Sylvia, helping Howard, is the last to go through the gate.

As Sonny is about to lock the gate, she turns to him.

SYLVIA:

Listen, I'll never make it. I'll

have to go to the toilet.

SONNY:

What's the matter... they never

housebroke you?

SYLVIA:

It's not a joke. I got this terrible

fear of being locked in...

SAL:

Goddamn women...

SONNY:

Ah sh*t. Okay... go ahead. Anybody

else have to go?

EDNA:

Me, too, please.

SAL:

You see... now they all gotta go.

As Sylvia starts to move out, Sonny starts to cross ahead of

her.

SONNY:

Wait a minute - I want to check.

Mulvaney finishes his phone conversation. He moves toward

the group at the vault.

NEW ANGLE:

as Sonny sprints for the door to the Ladies' Room.

INSIDE LADIES' ROOM

It is a little lounge; sitting on a couch under the window,

making up her face (or painting her toenails) and listening

to her tiny transistor radio, oblivious to all that's

happened, is MARIA, heavily-painted and voluptuous Latin

girl. Sylvia, following him in, is shocked. She's forgotten

about Maria. Now she runs over to her, puts her arms around

her.

SYLVIA:

Oh - Maria!

SONNY:

Who the hell is that? God damn it!

What the...

Maria is about to protest, but Sylvia grabs her and starts

to hustle her out.

SONNY:

What are you trying to pull?

SYLVIA:

I forgot she's in here.

SONNY:

Come on, nobody's going to the

bathroom - come on...

He moves with them back to the vault area, herds them into

it. At this point, PHONE RINGS AGAIN (#4). Sonny moves to

get the empty wastebasket, shoving it into the vault for the

girls to use in case of emergency. Mulvaney moves to his

desk and phone.

Mulvaney has by this time answered the phone, and is now

holding it out to Sonny. HOLD THE BEAT...

MULVANEY:

(to Sonny)

It's for you.

ON SONNY AND SAL

They both stare at Mulvaney. Sonny slowly moves toward

Mulvaney. For the first time since he entered the bank,

he's quiet and slow. He takes the instrument and slowly

puts it to his ear. The group from the vault now slowly

starts to move out to listen to the conversation.

SONNY:

(into phone)

Yeah.

MORETTI (V.O.)

What are you doin' in there?

SONNY:

Who's this?

MORETTI (V.O.)

This is Detective Sergeant Moretti,

a**hole, we got you completely by

the balls. You don't believe me,

I'm lookin' you right in the eye.

Right now, I can see you...

SAL:

Who is it?

Sonny turns and looks out through the door. Sure enough, in

the window of the barbershop across the street, the dim figure

of a man on a telephone can be SEEN looking out toward us.

He wears a hat in spite of the weather and a cigar is clamped

in his mouth. He is an old-time, hard-nosed, uneducated,

street-wise, sarcastic New York cop, outspoken, rude and

sentimental. Right now he's a distant silhouette and a voice

on the telephone.

CLOSE ON SONNY:

holding the phone. Listening to the voice of his death

speaking in New York accents.

MORETTI (V.O.)

Okay? Let's be reasonable and not

stupid and not get anybody hurt.

You come to the front door with hands

folded on your head, unnastand?

Nobody's gonna shoot or...

Sonny slowly, almost sadly, puts the telephone receiver back

down, cutting off the little voice at the other end. He

looks up at Mulvaney, then to Sal.

SONNY:

(to Sal)

It's the cops. Sh*t!

SAL:

How'd that happen?

MULVANEY:

(backing away from

Sonny)

I swear to God... on my salary, I'm

not gonna be any hero...

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