Excess Baggage Page #7

Barnaby shrugs. The car speeds on --

SIMS (CONT'D)

Oh no. It can't be. . . .

But it is. Will Pogue's warehouse roars away in a fire tobeat all fires. Out front, police and firemen jostle shoulder to shoulderwith newscasters.

EXT. WILL'S WAREHOUSE - NIGHT

Sims climbs from the car to stare in appalled silence atthe blaze. Barnaby climbs from the car to stand cheerfully at his side.

BARNABY:

Fire started in the kitchen.

SIMS:

You knew about this?

BARNABY:

Car's inside, though, so this is definitely theplace.

SIMS:

How do you know this?

Barnaby shrugs.

BARNABY:

Daniels called it in. Too bad they couldn't getthose locks off, before the building went. Gonna lose a lot of evidence.

SIMS:

Barnaby.

BARNABY:

Yes?

SIMS:

I'm not sure there's a legal precedent for arrestingmy partner for withholding evidence, but I am going to check thebooks.

B.g., Perkins watches the blaze, watches Sims and Barnaby,taking it all in with an impassive expression. A REPORTER slams a microphoneinto Sims' face.

REPORTER:

Detective, is it true this is the suspected lairof kidnappers?

SIMS:

What?

REPORTER:

Isn't it true, Detective, that --

INT. WILL'S PORSCHE - DAY (OVERCAST)

Dawn streaks the sky. Will drives down a dirt road, ominouslysilent. Emily sucks on a cigarette, blows smoke out the open window, studyingthe deserted surroundings warily.

EMILY:

A speech class could do wonders for you. Maybe instillsome of that inner confidence needed to carry on a conversation.

He keeps driving -- we're talking past the middle of nowhere,here -- the landscape grows more and more barren.

EMILY (CONT'D)

Want to tell me where we're going?

No response. Emily is winding tighter and tighter.

EMILY (CONT'D)

Nice place to hide a body.

Not even a peep.

She stubs out her cigarette, glares at the open window.

EMILY (CONT'D)

How can anyone live without air conditioning?

He turns into an abandoned field.

She rolls up her window, surreptitiously glides her fingeracross the door lock -- pushes it down.

He stops the car, shuts off the ignition, turns to rummagein the duffel bag.

She slams him hard with her elbow, hits him again to keephim down, lunges across him to knock his door open --

He's coming up -- she kicks him, sending him backwards outthe door -- kicks again, to send him all the way out --

Will hits dirt as she slams the door, locks it, slides intothe driver's seat, and reaches for the ignition --

No key.

Will, rising stiffly, jingles the car keys outside the windowand smiles, grim.

She punches the ignition switch --

WILL:

Open the door.

She punches the ignition switch again. It pops free. Shereaches for its wires.

Will winces -- he did not want to do this -- doubles uphis fist, and punches a hole through the driver's side window.

Emily lunges backwards, out of reach, into the passengerseat, still holding the limp ignition.

He unlocks and opens the driver's side door.

WILL:

What the hell do you think you're doing?

Emily is breathing hard, tensed to kick him again.

Seconds tick by. She relaxes -- barely.

EMILY:

What are you doing?

Will reaches cautiously into the car to lift a running shoefrom the floorboard -- what he dropped when the assault began -- danglesit for her inspection.

Emily, pale, eyes it, him.

He looks pointedly at the driver's seat, raises a brow ina question.

She bites her lip, nods, gathering herself into a smallball as he sits gingerly on the glass littered driver's seat and pulls offhis shoes.

WILL:

It's six o'clock.

This means nothing to Emily. Lacing up, he shoots her askeptical glance.

WILL (CONT'D)

I run at six o'clock.

She bites her lip harder. Will lifts the limp ignition andstudies it, her, pops the hood and climbs out.

EMILY:

Now what are you doing?

He jerks the distributor cap and pockets it, before limpingdown the road at a slow lope.

Emily watches him go in consternation.

EXT. DIRT ROAD - DAY

Will, bloody but unbent, doggedly runs, ignoring Emily,who trots by his side, puffing a cigarette.

EMILY:

You're angry.

Silence.

EMILY (CONT'D)

Well what did you expect me to think?

Silence.

EMILY (CONT'D)

I'm sorry.

He shoots her an appalled glance.

WILL:

For beating the crap out of me, or my car?

Emily smiles, winsome charm.

EMILY:

How can I make it up to you?

WILL:

Go home.

EMILY:

I'd love to do that for you, but then I'd have toexplain about how you stole my car.

WILL:

I'll buy it.

EMILY:

Excuse me?

WILL:

I'll buy the damn car.

EMILY:

But I love that car.

He seethes.

EMILY (CONT'D)

Fifty thousand dollars.

WILL:

What?

A slow drizzle is beginning. Will, breathing hard, stopsand braces his hands against his knees. Emily looks him up and down, takesa pull off her cigarette.

EMILY:

For a runner, you're not in very good shape.

WILL:

Fifty thousand dollars. It's used.

EMILY:

Cash.

His jaw tightens.

WILL:

Fine.

Will picks up the pace. Emily, fascinated, follows.

EMILY:

You've got fifty thousand dollars cash?

WILL:

Yes.

EMILY:

On you?

WILL:

Yes.

EMILY:

How barbaric.

EXT. MOTEL - DAY

Will's Porsche sits outside the dingy motel structure.

INT. MOTEL/ROOM - DAY

Emily hums, toweling her hair. Will taps the phone, impatientas hell. Emily grins.

EMILY:

You oughta take one. Nice to be human again.

WILL:

What's the number?

EMILY:

What, no breakfast?

Judging from his expression, it looks like breakfast isout.

WILL:

The number.

EMILY:

Where's my money?

Will throws a packet of cash on the table.

EMILY:

Five-oh-three, five-five-five, eight-nine-seven-six.

WILL:

Thank you.

He dials. It RINGS on the other end. Emily lifts cash andcounts under her breath.

ASSISTANT (V.O.)

Hope residence.

Will extends the phone to Emily. She shrugs him off, stillcounting.

ASSISTANT (V.O.) (CONT'D)

Hope residence. May I help you?

WILL:

I'd like to speak to Mr. Hope, please.

ASSISTANT (V.O.)

May I ask what this is regarding?

WILL:

His daughter.

ASSISTANT (V.O.)

One moment please.

The line CLICKS a few times.

WILL:

(whispering)

You are going to talk to him.

EMILY:

Forty seven, forty eight --

AMADEUS (V.O.)

This is Amadeus T. Hope. To whom am I speaking?

WILL:

Your daughter would like to speak to you, Mr. Hope.

Will extends the phone to Emily. She takes her time. Willshakes the phone at her. She touches off the last bills.

EMILY:

Forty-nine, and fifty.

She smiles sweetly and takes the phone.

EMILY:

(into phone)

Daddy?

AMADEUS (V.O.)

Emily?

EMILY:

Daddy, he made me suck his penis --

WILL:

What!?

Will rips the phone away and slams the receiver into itscradle. Emily collapses on the bed, laughing.

WILL (CONT'D)

What the hell is the matter with you? You thinkthat's funny?

He rips the money from her hands.

WILL (CONT'D)

Give me that!

She's still laughing. He ogles her, horrified.

WILL (CONT'D)

You look human. . . you sound human. . . but underneathit all --

Emily stops laughing.

EMILY:

We'd better leave.

WILL:

You leave.

EMILY:

They traced that call.

Emily heads for the door. Will's not going anywhere.

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