Double Indemnity Page #11

envelope pocketbook under her arm.

B-14 INT. MARKET

Neff has spotted Phyllis. Without haste he passes through

the turnstile towards the back.

B-15 THE SHELVES

Phyllis is putting a can of cleaning powder into her basket.

Neff enters the shot and moves along the shelves towards

her, very slowly, pretending to inspect the goods. A customer

passes and goes on out of scene. Phyllis and Neff are now

very close. During the ensuing low-spoken dialogue, they

continue to face the shelves, not looking at each other

PHYLLIS:

Walter.

NEFF:

Not so loud.

PHYLLIS:

I wanted to talk to you, Walter.

Ever since yesterday.

NEFF:

Let me talk first. It's all set. The

accident policy came through. I've

got it in my pocket. I got his check

too. I saw him down in the oil fields.

He thought he was paying for the

auto insurance. The check's just

made out to the company. It could be

for anything. But you have to send a

check for the auto insurance, see.

It's all right that way, because one

of the cars is yours.

PHYLLIS:

But listen, Walter ---

NEFF:

Quick, open your bag.

She hesitates, then opens it. Neff looks around quickly,

slips the policy out of his pocket and drops it into her

bag. She snaps the bag shut.

NEFF:

Can you get into his safe deposit

box?

PHYLLIS:

Yes. We both have keys.

NEFF:

Fine. But don't put the policy in

there yet. I'll tell you when. And

listen, you never touched it or even

saw it, understand?

PHYLLIS:

I'm not a fool.

NEFF:

Okay. When is he taking the train?

PHYLLIS:

Walter, that's just it. He isn't

going.

NEFF:

What?

PHYLLIS:

That's what I've been trying to tell

you. The trip is off.

NEFF:

What's happened?

He breaks off as a short, squatty woman, pushing a child in

a walker, comes into sight and approaches. She stops beside

Neff, who is pretending to read a label on a can. Phyllis

puts a few cakes of soap into her basket.

WOMAN:

(To Neff)

Mister, could you reach me that can

of coffee?

(She points)

That one up there.

NEFF:

(Reaching up)

This one?

She nods. Neff reaches a can down from the high shelf and

hands it to her.

WOMAN:

I don't see why they always have to

put what I want on the top shelf.

She moves away with her coffee and her child. Out of the

corner of his eye Neff watches her go. He moves closer to

Phyllis again.

NEFF:

Go ahead. I'm listening.

PHYLLIS:

He had a fall down at the well. He

broke his leg. It's in a cast.

NEFF:

That knocks it on the head all right.

PHYLLIS:

What do we do, Walter?

NEFF:

Nothing. Just wait.

PHYLLIS:

Wait for what?

NEFF:

Until he can take a train. I told

you it's got to be a train.

PHYLLIS:

We can't wait. I can't go on like

this.

NEFF:

We're not going to grab a hammer and

do it quick, just to get it over

with.

PHYLLIS:

There are other ways.

NEFF:

Only we're not going to do it other

ways.

PHYLLIS:

But we can't leave it like this.

What do you think would happen if he

found out about this accident policy?

NEFF:

Plenty. But not as bad as sitting in

that death-house.

PHYLLIS:

Don't ever talk like that, Walter.

NEFF:

Just don't let's start losing our

heads.

PHYLLIS:

It's not our heads. It's our nerve

we're losing.

NEFF:

We're going to do it right. That's

all I said.

PHYLLIS:

Walter maybe it's my nerves. It's

the waiting that gets me.

NEFF:

It's getting me just as bad, baby.

But we've got to wait.

PHYLLIS:

Maybe we have, Walter. Only it's so

tough without you. It's like a wall

between us.

Neff looks at his watch.

NEFF:

Good-bye baby. I'm thinking of you

every minute.

He goes off. She stares after him.

DISSOLVE TO:

B-16 NEFF'S OFFICE - (DAY)

He is wearing a light grey suit and has his hat on. He is

standing behind his desk opening some mail, taking a few

papers out of his briefcase, checking something in his rate

book, making a quick telephone call. But nothing of this is

heard.

NEFF'S VOICE

After that a full week went by and I

didn't see her once. I tried to keep

my mind off her and off the whole

idea. I kept telling myself that

maybe those fates they say watch

over you had gotten together and

broken his leg to give me a way out.

Then it was the fifteenth of June.

You may remember that date, Keyes. I

do too, only for a very different

reason. You came into my office around

three in the afternoon...

Keyes enters with some papers in his hand.

NEFF:

Hello, Keyes.

KEYES:

I just came from Norton's office.

The semi-annual sales records are

out. You're high man, Walter. That's

twice in a row. Congratulations.

NEFF:

Thanks. How would you like a cheap

drink?

KEYES:

How would you like a fifty dollar

cut in salary?

NEFF:

How would I -- Do I laugh now, or

wait until it gets funny?

KEYES:

I'm serious, Walter. I've been talking

to Norton. There's too much stuff

piling up on my desk. Too much

pressure on my nerves. I spend half

the night walking up and down in my

bed. I've got to have an assistant.

I thought that you --

NEFF:

Me? Why pick on me?

KEYES:

Because I've got a crazy idea you

might be good at the job.

NEFF:

That's crazy all right. I'm a

salesman.

KEYES:

Yeah. A peddler, a glad-hander, a

back-slapper. You're too good to be

a salesman.

NEFF:

Nobody's too good to be a salesman.

KEYES:

Phooey. All you guys do is ring door-

bells and dish out a smooth line of

monkey talk. What's bothering you is

that fifty buck cut, isn't it?

NEFF:

That'd bother anybody.

KEYES:

Look, Walter. The job I'm talking

about takes brains and integrity. It

takes more guts than there is in

fifty salesman. It's the hottest job

in the business.

NEFF:

It's still a desk job. I don't want

a desk job.

KEYES:

A desk job. Is that all you can see

in it? Just a hard chair to park

your pants on from nine to five.

Just a pile of papers to shuffle

around, and five sharp pencils and a

scratch pad to make figures on, with

maybe a little doodling on the side.

That's not the way I see it, Walter.

To me a claims man is a surgeon, and

that desk is an operating table, and

those pencils are scalpels and bone

chisels. And those papers are not

just forms and statistics and claims

for compensation. They're alive,

they're packed with drama, with

twisted hopes and crooked dreams. A

claims man, Walter, is a doctor and

a blood-hound and a cop and a judge

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