Frequency Page #32

JULIA:

Then you believe him?

SATCH:

Yeah I do. You bet your life I do.

And they hug. The weight of the world sliding off Julia's

shoulders. But someone is trying to get Satch's attention.

It is the counter man, he's holding a phone.

Satch takes the phone, beat, his face goes ashen.

SATCH (CONT'D)

I'm on my way...

He drops the phone, heading for the door.

SATCH (CONT'D)

(to Julia)

Wait here, I'll send a uniform.

And Satch is gone.

INT. 17TH PRECINCT - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

Power is still off. Sprinklers still gushing. Amidst the

chaos, a bathroom door swings open. A man steps out. A cop.

Leather jacket, gold shield. It's Frank. He slips through

the madness, heading down the hall and towards the stairs.

EXT. 17TH PRECINCT - CONTINUOUS

Satch races down the crowded block...dodging celebrating

Mets' fans...bolting up the precinct steps into the house.

INT. 17TH PRECINCT - INTERROGATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Phil runs in. Scanning the room. But it is empty. No

Frank. No Shepard. Just a puddle of coffee on the floor.

INT. 17TH PRECINCT - SGT'S DESK - CONTINUOUS

Satch charges into the lobby. The lights start to flicker

back on. Chaos giving way to order.

Satch heads for the stairs.

And there is Frank, wearing Shepard's jacket and shield. But

in his hurry, Satch has not spotted him.

Frank quickly steps behind a pillar as Satch tears by him and

up the stairs.

Stay with Frank as he turns...calmly walking by the

Sergeant's desk, gliding out the precinct door and...

EXT. 17TH PRECINCT - CONTINUOUS

...disappearing into the street.

FRANK:

(little smile)

Elvis has left the building.

INT. APARTMENT BUILDING - HALLWAY - DAY - 1998

John stalks down an apartment building hallway, gun drawn. He

reaches a door. Two locks and a bell. F*** 'em. John

smashes his bulk into the door...one...two...three times. It

bursts off its hinges. John charges in.

Place is empty. Like somebody got the hell out in a hurry.

A few odds and ends left behind in the haste...including a

pile of unpaid bills. CARL SHEPARD.

John's eyes glaze over in rage and fury. But then he sees

something that makes him stop and think. There is a

telephone on the floor, in a corner. John stares at the

phone, wheels spinning. He reaches in his coat and takes out

his notebook. Flipping through pages. Notes on Shepard:

social security, address, DMV registration, and a series of

phone numbers...home, office, cellular.

John runs to the phone. Punches in the cell number. Ring.

SHEPARD:

(over phone)

Hell-

JOHN:

You have the right to remain silent. If

you give up that right...

INTERCUT SHEPARD AND JOHN

Shepard is in his car, over a bridge, on the run...

SHEPARD:

Who the f*** is this?

JOHN:

Anything you say can and will be used

against you in a court of law.

SHEPARD:

Sullivan?

JOHN:

You have the right to speak to an att --

SHEPARD:

F*** you, a**hole.

JOHN:

It's a small world, Carl. And I'm gonna

find you. Real soon.

INT. SHEPARD'S APARTMENT - WEST 74TH ST. - DAY - 1969

CLICK, CLICK -- dead bolt turning...

Front door opens and SHEPARD WALKS IN. His '69 apartment is

far nicer than the place we just left John in '98.

Shepard runs to the bathroom. Rips off the toilet's tank

lid, reaches down and pulls out a .357 Magnum Colt Python,

wrapped in clear plastic.

He rips off the plastic, shoves the pistol in his waistband,

heads into the kitchen.

He gropes behind the refrigerator, close on an envelope glass

taped to back of the fridge. Shepard's hand finds the

envelope...he rips it loose. And then he opens it -

revealing its contents, souvenirs, POLAROID PHOTOS OF THE

NIGHTINGALE MURDERS, WOMEN'S JEWELRY, NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS...

Shepard takes out a match to burn the photos. But then...

The broom closet door bursts off its hinges. Frank instantly

on top of Shepard. The souvenirs go flying in the air.

Frank pummels Shepard's head and back. But Shepard smashes

his elbow in Frank's Adam's apple, lands a solid uppercut

square on Frank's nose. Frank's eyes watering up, VISION

BLURRING.

CLOSE ON:

Frank's hand, groping for the handle of a glass pitcher atop

the kitchen counter.

Shepard reaches for his gun, points the .357 at Frank's head.

Shepard's finger squeezing the trigger. It's over. But...

FRANK SMASHES THE GLASS PITCHER down on Shepard's skull.

Shepard drops. CRACK, the gun fires, BLASTING AIR.

FRANK scrambles for the window. He's outta there, expertly

thundering down fire escape.

EXT. ALLEY BEHIND SHEPARD'S APARTMENT BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

Frank hits the pavement, twisting his ankle. Hears metal

rattling, looks up. Shepard's clattering down after him.

Shepard tries to get off a shot through the fire escape grid.

BANG! The shot ricochets wildly. Frank takes off, limping

and staying close to the building out of the line of fire.

The streets are still empty, the city glued to their TV's.

Frank hits CPW. He glances left, right, straight ahead.

Central Park.

Frank runs into the park.

INT. SHEPARD'S APARTMENT - W. 74TH ST. - DUSK

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