Halloween H20 Page #4

Hattie hands Keri the key.

KERI:

Thank you.

Hattie extends an open hand.

HATTIE:

Thank me with two bucks.

KERI:

Oh... right.

Keri digs through her pocket, produces a handful of change...

gives it to Hattie.

HATTIE:

(dripping sarcasm)

Just what I wanted... more change.

Hattie heads back toward the guard house, turns back to

Keri --

HATTIE:

(continuing)

And next time you lose a gate key,

young lady, you'll be climbing

your way out of here.

Keri holds the key to her chest.

KERI:

I'll be more careful next time.

Hattie dismisses Keri with a wave of her hand, continues

across campus to the guard house.

Keri smiles, places the key in her pocket and disappears

inside the school...

CUT TO:

EXT. JIMMY'S HOUSE - AFTERNOON

Pouring rain. In stark contrast to the sunny campus of

Hillcrest...

EMERGENCY VEHICLES litter the landscape, lights FLASHING.

OFFICERS wrap yellow crime scene tape around the perimeter,

keeping curious NEIGHBORS at bay...

RICHARD CARTER:

a middle-aged police detective, eyes bloodshot from too

little sleep and one too many hours in front of a computer

screen, emerges from a dark Sedan... a lit cigarette dangles

loosely from his lips.

Carter approaches a young OFFICER standing outside the front

door --

CARTER:

(flashes his badge)

Detective Richard Carter,

Haddonfield P.D. Detective Blake

called my office...

The Officer motions to the door --

OFFICER:

Go on in. She's been waiting for

you.

Carter heads towards the door, the Officer grabs his arm...

OFFICER:

(continuing)

You might need this...

The Officer offers him a small jar of petroleum jelly.

Carter waves it away.

OFFICER:

(continuing)

Some serious sh*t in there,

Detective.

Carter reconsiders, smears the Vaseline under each nostril...

heads for the house.

INT. JIMMY'S HOUSE

Carter crosses through the front door, watches as

A TEAM of latex-gloved FORENSIC SPECIALISTS

dust door and windows for fingerprints, swab at blood drops,

and collect carpet fibers for later analysis...

Carter crosses into the living room, winces at

PAMELA WHITTINGTON

sprawled across the floor in front of blood-soaked

curtains... the wrought-iron poker jammed up her nose, exits

through the top of her skull... a kitchen knife lies beside

her...

Carter takes another hit off the cigarette, blows smoke into

the room...

VOICE (O.S.)

Double homicide.

Carter turns to see

TONI BLAKE:

standing behind him... mid-twenties, attractive yet

approachable...

BLAKE:

Her name's Pamela Whittington,

next door neighbor to victim

number two... James Howell.

Carter motions in the direction of the den where

A CRIME SCENE PHOTOGRAPHER

takes snapshots of the teenage corpse.

CARTER:

Let me guess... he's the guy with

the hockey skate for a nose ring.

BLAKE:

crosses to Carter, extends a dixie cup in his direction --

CARTER:

No thanks, I'm not thirsty.

BLAKE:

It's for your cigarette. I prefer

not to contaminate my crime scene

with micropollutants.

Carter takes a final puff off the cigarette, drops it into

the cup...

CARTER:

Why am I here?

BLAKE:

They said on the phone you were

assigned to the Meyers case.

CARTER:

With all due respect, detective,

you can't go blaming every brutal

murder in Illinois on Michael

Meyers.

BLAKE:

Pamela Whittington was a long time

associate of Dr. Loomis. Her home

office was ransacked. It was

chock full of Loomis' files on

Meyers. It'd say that makes

Meyers a suspect, wouldn't you?

CARTER:

Well, when you put it that way.

BLAKE:

Right. So why don't we get on

with this investigation?

CARTER:

I like a woman who takes control.

Blake ignores the comment, crosses to the front door...

Carter follows.

During the following dialogue, Blake walks Carter through the

crime scene reenacting the prior evening's brutal events...

BLAKE:

Pamela entered the house and

walked into the den where she

discovers James Howell's body...

Carter and Blake stand in front of the mutilated face of the

teenage boy...

BLAKE:

(continuing)

Shaken, she returns to the front

door to find the hutch blocking

her exit...

ON gouges across the wood planks, forming tracks from the

dining room to the front door...

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