Hardcore Page #11

Mast closes the door behind him. Van Dorn looks around the

apartment. It's calm now.

On the desk are Mast's briefcase and papers.

Looking through Mast's files, Jake finds pages and pages of

notes and information about his daughter's disappearance.

Names, places, dates. Lists of massage parlors, sex shops,

porn bookshops. The names of owners, managers, filmmakers,

Interviews with street girls, cops, landlords.

Plus snapshots of Kristen as she once was and 8x10 frame

enlargements from "Slave of Love," her hardcore film.

CUT TO:

INT. HOLIDAY INN ROOM - DAY

Jake has spread Mast's papers and photographs across the

floor of his Holiday Inn motel room.

His collar open, his tie loosened, Van Dorn squats over the

notes and interviews. He studies his find. It includes:

-- sex ads from various local papers. Some are crossed out,

others circled, others checked.

-- a list of massage parlors and sex shops under the heading

"possible K was here."

-- An L.A. Times newspaper clipping about "Bill Ramada, L.A.

Porn Movie Mogul." It features a photo of Ramada on his way

out of court.

-- a sleazy porn mag article about "Parlor Girls: Hustling

and Loving."

CUT TO:

EXT. LOS ANGELES - NIGHT

Van Dorn drives through the crowded streets of Los Angeles'

tenderloin. He cruises down Santa Monica, up Western, along

Hollywood and back down to Santa Monica.

He passes row upon row of garish adult bookstores, massage

parlors and porn theatres. He passes model shops, topless

bars, "erotic motels," and peep shows.

Teenage girls stand in the red neon shadows, calling out to

passing strangers. Drag queens and leather boys cruise the

sidewalks. Jet black pimps, sporting high heels and make

coats, stroll from one massage parlor to another. The sound

of Latin jazz comes from one doorway; soul disco from another.

L.A.P.D. black and whites patrol the streets. Occasionally,

a uniformed officer leans out to hassle a passing pimp or

hooker.

He drives on. The sex shops have names like "The Sexual

Catharthis Center," "Pandora's Box," "The Institute of Oral

Love," "69 Club," "The Church of Spiritual Sexuality," "The

Participating Center of Sexual Experience," "Mother's Fun

Palace," "The Hot Box."

A zoo of lusts.

Jake looks at the seat beside him, checking Mast's list of

massage parlors and sex stores with the notation, "possible

K was here."

CUT TO:

EXT. ADONIS BOOKSHOP - NIGHT

Van Dorn pulls to the curb and parks his car. Ahead is the

plexiglass lettered sign of the Adonis bookstore.

Jake locks his car, buttons his suit coat and walks toward

the bookstore. He hesitates a moment, then enters.

CUT TO:

INT. ADONIS BOOKSHOP - NIGHT

Jake steps into the bookstore and looks cautiously from side

to side.

His expression is stern, withdrawn, as if suppressing some

physical pain. He finds nothing titillating about this world;

for him it is simply evil. Neither is he shocked. Has he not

been taught:
"For every imagination of man's heart is only

evil continually"?

An improbable assortment of men peruse the long racks of

pornographic books and magazines. A young MALE TELLER sits

next to a cash register atop a high counter. Below him, a

display case features sexual paraphernalia and films. A small

radio softly plays Muzak.

TELLER:

Fifty cents admission.

JAKE:

What?

TELLER:

It's fifty cents admission. It's

applicable to a purchase.

Jake fishes in his pocket, comes up with a couple quarters

and places them on the counter. The Teller gives him a token

in return.

Van Dorn walks down one row and up another. The explicit

titles and magazine covers leap out at him: "Cropped

Crotches," "Teenage Obedience Lesson," "Mouthful of Cock,"

"Hogtie." Many of the magazine covers feature obviously

underage girls. He eases his way past a butch young man

looking at magazines in the gay section.

Screwing up his courage, Jake steps back to the counter.

He tries but cannot avert his eyes from the grotesque sexual

novelties in the case. D*ldos, some small, some huge and

gross, looking more like instruments of torture than pleasure.

Stimulators, vibrators, spiked ticklers. Penis enlargers.

Leather paddles, whips, masks, rubber vaginas, f*** faces,

masturbators.

JAKE:

Do you have a, ah, film called 'Slave

of Love?'

TELLER:

What we got is just these here.

(gestures)

What you see.

JAKE:

It's a short film.

TELLER:

They're all about the same. You want

something?

Jake looks momentarily at the boxes of 16mm film. A couple

titles read "Office Party," and "Butt Banger."

JAKE:

Well...

Van Dorn pulls a folded 8x10 out of his vest pocket. It's a

glossy frame enlargement from "Slave of Love" folded to reveal

only Kristen.

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