Double Indemnity Page #8

going to do it.

NEFF:

Not if there's an insurance company

in the picture, baby. So long as

you're honest they'll pay you with a

smile, but you just try to pull

something like that and you'll find

out. They know more tricks than a

carload of monkeys. And if there's a

death mixed up in it, you haven't

got a prayer. They'll hang you as

sure as ten dimes will buy a dollar,

baby.

She begins to cry. He puts his arms around her and kisses

her.

NEFF:

Just stop thinking about it, will

you.

He holds her tight. Their heads touch, side by side, THE

CAMERA SLOWLY STARTS TO RECEDE as we

DISSOLVE TO:

A-47 INT. NEFF'S OFFICE - (NIGHT)

Neff sits in the swivel chair, talking into the dictaphone.

He has hooked the wastebasket under his feet to sit more

comfortably. As he talks, a little cough shakes him now and

then.

NEFF:

So we just sat there, and she kept

on crying softly, like the rain on

the window, and we didn't say

anything. Maybe she had stopped

thinking about it, but I hadn't. I

couldn't. Because it all tied up

with something I had been thinking

about for years, since long before I

ever ran into Phyllis Dietrichson.

Because, in this business you can't

sleep for trying to figure out the

tricks they could pull on you. You're

like the guy behind the roulette

wheel, watching the customers to

make sure they don't crook the house.

And then one night, you get to

thinking how you could crook the

house yourself. And do it smart.

Because you've got that wheel right

under your hands. And you know every

notch in it by heart. And you figure

all you need is a plant out in front,

a shill to put down the bet. And

suddenly the doorbell rings and the

whole set-up is right there in the

room with you... Look, Keyes, I'm

not trying to whitewash myself. I

fought it, only maybe I didn't fight

it hard enough. The stakes were fifty

thousand dollars, but they were the

life of a man, too, a man who'd never

done me any dirt. Except he was

married to a woman he didn't care

anything about, and I did...

DISSOLVE TO:

A-48 INT. NEFF'S APARTMENT LIVING ROOM

CAMERA MOVES SLOWLY towards the davenport again. Neff sits

in one corner with his feet on the low table. He is smoking

his cigarette and staring at the ceiling. Phyllis has been

sitting fairly close to him. She gets up slowly and crosses

to her rain coat, lying over a chair.

PHYLLIS:

I've got to go now, Walter.

Neff does not answer. He keeps on staring at the ceiling.

She starts to put the rain coat on.

PHYLLIS:

Will you call me, Walter?

Neff still does not answer.

PHYLLIS:

Walter!

He looks at her slowly, almost absently.

PHYLLIS:

I hate him. I loathe going back to

him. You believe me, don't you,

Walter?

NEFF:

Sure I believe you.

PHYLLIS:

I can't stand it anymore. What if

they did hang me?

NEFF:

You're not going to hang, baby.

PHYLLIS:

It's better than going on this way.

NEFF:

-- you're not going to hang, baby.

Not ever. Because you're going to do

it the smart way. Because I'm going

to help you.

PHYLLIS:

You!

NEFF:

Me.

PHYLLIS:

Do you know what you're saying?

NEFF:

Sure I know what I'm saying.

He gets up and grips her arm.

NEFF:

We're going to do it together. We're

going to do it right. And I'm the

guy that knows how.

There is fierce determination in his voice. His fingers dig

into her arm.

PHYLLIS:

Walter, you're hurting me.

NEFF:

There isn't going to be any slip up.

Nothing sloppy. Nothing weak. It's

got to be perfect.

He kisses her.

NEFF:

You go now.

He leads her towards the door.

NEFF:

Call me tomorrow. But not from your

house. From a booth. And watch your

step. Every single minute. It's got

to be perfect, understand. Straight

down the line.

They have now reached the door. Neff opens it. Phyllis stands

in the doorway, her lips white.

PHYLLIS:

Straight down the line.

She goes quietly. He watches her down the corridor. Slowly

he closes the door and goes back into the room. He moves

across the window and opens it wide. He stands there, looking

down into the dark street. From below comes the sound of a

car starting and driving off. The rain drifts in against his

face. He just stands there motionless. His mind is going a

hundred miles a minute.

FADE OUT:

END OF SEQUENCE "A"

SEQUENCE "B"

FADE IN:

B-1 INT. NEFF'S OFFICE - (NIGHT)

Neff sits slumped in his chair before the dictaphone. On the

desk next to him stands a used record. The cylinder on the

dictaphone is not turning. He is smoking a cigarette. He

kills it then lifts the needle and slides off the record

which is on the machine and stands it on end on the desk

beside the other used record. He reaches down painfully to

take another record from the rack beneath the dictaphone,

looks at it against the light to make sure it has not been

used, then slides it into place on the machine and resets

the needle. He lifts the horn and resumes his dictation.

NEFF:

The first thing we had to do was fix

him up with that accident policy. I

knew he wouldn't buy, but all I wanted

was his signature on an application.

So I had to make him sign without

his knowing what he was signing. And

I wanted a witness other than Phyllis

to hear me give him a sales talk. I

was trying to think with your brains,

Keyes. I wanted all the answers ready

for all the questions you were going

to spring as soon as Dietrichson was

dead.

Neff takes a last drag on his cigarette and kills it by

running it under the ledge of the dictaphone stand. He drops

the stub on the floor and resumes.

NEFF:

A couple of nights later I went to

the house. Everything looked fine,

except I didn't like the witness

Phyllis had brought in. It was

Dietrichson's daughter Lola, and it

made me feel a little queer in the

belly to have her right there in the

room, playing Chinese checkers, as

if nothing was going to happen.

DISSOLVE:

B-2 A BOARD OF CHINESE CHECKERS CAMERA WITHDRAWS AND

GRADUALLY REVEALS THE DIETRICHSON LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The checker-board is on the davenport between Phyllis and

Lola. Mr. Dietrichson sits in a big easy chair. His coat and

tie are over the back of the chair, and the evening paper is

lying tumbled on the floor beside him. He is smoking a cigar

with the band on it. He has a drink in front of him and

several more inside him. In another chair sits Neff, his

briefcase on the floor, leaning against his chair. He holds

his rate book partly open, with a finger in it for a marker.

He is going full swing.

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