Hardcore Page #6

BURROWS:

Two officers have been assigned to

the case. I can't keep them on

indefinitely, but we'll go through

every lead.

CUT TO:

EXT. DOWNTOWN - DAY

Another day, Jake and Wes, wearing different clothes, walk

with ANDY MAST, a private investigator, down an L.A. street.

They walk silently, Mast, forty, a stocky man in a wrinkled

suit, looks like he's been up all night. He probably has.

Mast motions to a coffee shop and they enter.

CUT TO:

INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Mast, slouching in the booth, sips his coffee.

MAST:

Those cops, like all cops, are

intelligent enough, but they are

masters of de-ductive reason. That

is, you ask them what three and two

are they'll tell you five, but if

you ask them what five is, they go

blank. That's spec-u-lative reasoning,

and that's where I come in.

JAKE:

Well, what do they know?

MAST:

Dogshit. Worse yet, they don't care.

JAKE:

So then, Mr. Mast...

MAST:

Andy.

JAKE:

...What do you have to offer?

MAST:

Let me ask you a personal question,

a painful one. The first of many.

Tell me, was your daughter the kind

of girl to run around, to, ah, play

practical jokes, maybe?

Van Dorn answers him with a cold stare.

MAST:

(continuing)

No, I didn't think she was. Let me

get the picture here. Let me guess.

She was an absolutely clean girl, a

model daughter, she never had

rebellious or impure thoughts, she

didn't f*** around...

JAKE:

If I was you, Mr. Mast, I'd watch my

language.

MAST:

Hey, I'm a private detective, Van

Dorn, you want to hire a choir boy

you can go back to Grand Rapids.

I've been to that scumbag town. It's

full of them.

JAKE:

(cold)

Who's paying you?

MAST:

You are.

JAKE:

That's right.

MAST:

(backtracks)

As I was saying, I'll pick up the

thread. There's a number of ways I

can go. There's not much you can do

here. Stay if you want. Maybe it'd

be better if you went back home. Go

through Kristen's personal stuff.

Ask around, maybe she knew somebody

out here.

(a beat)

Look, I do this a lot. I work at a

minimum rate of $750.00 a week. It

may seem like a lot of money to you,

but it ain't. You could hire cheaper.

JAKE:

And better?

MAST:

I suppose. But I'll tell you, Jake,

I'm like a little animal. When I get

my teeth into something I never let

go. If your daughter's here, I'll

track her down.

CUT TO:

MONTAGE:

-- Jake sits at his desk, staring into empty space.

-- Jake looks through his wife's personal effects in the

bureau. The room is unchanged.

-- Jake, his arms folded, stands outside church. A fellow

parishioner is speaking to him; Jake doesn't seem to be

listening.

Mast's VOICE comes over a long distance connection:

MAST (V.O.)

Pilgrim, this is Andy. I'm in Phoenix.

(a beat)

Yeah, it looks that way. I don't

know why. I'm going south, then maybe

fly over to Nogales.

(a beat)

I think so.

(a beat)

Yeah, I picked up your check at

Western Union.

-- Jake gets out of his car and looks down the street of a

strange town. A nearby sign reads: Minneapolis National Trust.

-- Jake walks into a greasy spoon. Ahead of him, her back

turned, sits a girl who looks like Kristen. She turns as he

approaches; it is another girl, another runaway. He apologizes

and walks away.

OVER this SCENE, we HEAR Van Dorn's telephoned VOICE:

JAKE (V.O.)

No, I was up in Minneapolis. Somebody

responded to my ad. Said there was a

girl who looked like Kristen there.

But it wasn't her. The police haven't

found anything?

(a beat)

It don't look good. I don't know.

Maybe she's dead already.

CUT TO:

EXT. DE JONG HOME - DAY

Spring has returned to Grand Rapids. The maples are in bloom

and the chairs have been set out on the long porch of Wes De

Jong's house.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes