Ida Tarbell Page #5

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IDA:

And you are...?

SIDDAL:

(extending a hand)

Sorry. John Siddal. Pleased to meet you.

IDA:

What do you do here, John?

SIDDAL:

Research assistant, file clerk, general

factotum...

24.

The files slip once again. Fall around his feet.

IDA:

(wry)

Not a very good file clerk, are you John?

SIDDAL:

No, I’m afraid not. I’m terrible, in fact.

Ida smiles. Charmed. Then, an idea...

IDA:

I wonder. How are you at research?

And we launch into -IDA AND SIDDAL BEGINNING RESEARCH

INT. HALL OF RECORDS - NEW YORK - DAY

Ida and Siddal make their way inside the County Clerk’s

Business Bureau in Lower Manhattan. Over this, we hear:

SIDDAL (V.O.)

Where do we begin?

IDA (V.O.)

At the beginning. With the South

Improvement Company.

SIDDAL (V.O.)

What are we looking for?

IDA (V.O.)

Everything and anything. Tax records,

mentions in the press, public reports,

lawsuits prior and pending. I want to know

who they are and where they came from.

A YOUNG CLERK leads Ida and Siddal into a vast filing room.

CLERK:

You want every report since when?

IDA:

About 1870. Give or take a few years.

CLERK:

I’m not sure we got ‘em. But if we did,

this is where they’d be.

They stare in awe at a tower of stacked boxes. Literally a

“mountain” of paperwork. Their task is staggering.

CUT TO LATER --

25.

We see Ida and Siddal seated at a table, the boxes of files

before them as they slowly, methodically begin to sift

through the paperwork looking for clues to the SIC.

Hours pass. The light changes. They grow tired. Until:

IDA:

What have you got?

SIDDAL:

Nothing. It’s like it never existed. If

there were any files in here, they’re not

here now. Couple of newspaper articles.

Siddal hands one such article to Ida. She reads it.

CLOSE ON:
a faded press release for a book entitled “The Rise

and Fall of The South Improvement Company.”

IDA:

Says it was published in 1873.

SIDDAL:

Think maybe we could get a copy?

IDA:

Only one way to find out.

INT. NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY - DAY

Ida and Siddal wait patiently at the check out desk. Finally

a librarian returns with a piece of paper in hand.

LIBRARIAN:

Are you the ones looking for this?

(Ida and Siddal nod)

I’m sorry, we don’t have it.

Ida and Siddal turn to go, deflated, when...

LIBRARIAN:

We had a copy. Just one, mind you. Says

here it was checked out over ten years ago.

But it was never returned.

IDA:

Any idea who checked it out?

The librarian slides a paper stub at them. On it, a name and

address:
Henry Demarest Lloyd, Sag Harbor, Long Island.

IDA:

Thank you.

26.

EXT. SAG HARBOR - DAY

Middle of winter on Long Island, and it’s not pleasant. A

horse-drawn carriage deposits Ida and Siddal on the main

street of an old whaling village.

We see them canvassing people in the town. Talking with

neighbors, merchants. Most shake their heads, walk on.

Finally, they come to...

EXT. LLOYDS’S HOUSE - DAY

A crooked old fishing shack on the edge of town. Ida and

Siddal approach the front door, give a tentative knock.

The door opens revealing a light-skinned black woman (MISS

ROSE). She stares at them, suspicious.

IDA:

Hello, I’m Ida Tarbell. This is John

Siddal. We work for McClure’s Magazine in

New York. Does Mr. Lloyd live here?

MISS ROSE:

He don’t give interviews anymore. Mr. Lloyd

is retired now.

A VOICE calls from inside the house.

LLOYD (V.O.)

Who is it? Rose, who’s there?

IDA:

Please, may we speak to him? This’ll only

take a few minutes.

MISS ROSE:

What’s all this about?

IDA:

(smiles)

Late fees.

INT. LLOYDS’S HOUSE - DAY

HENRY LLOYD (76) is a grizzled old salt, retired muckraker.

His shock of white hair shows all the signs of a man recently

roused from sleep. He takes down a book, hands it to Ida.

LLOYD:

There are no copies left because Standard

Oil bought them all and destroyed them.

I’ll need that back.

27.

IDA:

What does Standard Oil have to do with the

South Improvement Company?

LLOYD:

Everything and nothing. But you’ll never

connect it back to Rockefeller. He’s too

smart for that.

IDA:

Why does he even need it?

Lloyd tosses some logs into a wood stove, before settling

comfortably into his armchair.

LLOYD:

Jackals prefer to operate under the cover

of darkness. So does Rockefeller.

IDA:

So it’s a shield?

LLOYD:

That’s one word for it. “License to

plunder” is probably more accurate. It

gives signatories collective bargaining

power against the railroads. Transportation

is the key to the oil industry. Whoever

controls the “flow” of oil, controls the

industry.

SIDDAL:

The name “South Improvement Company” - what

does it mean?

LLOYD:

Absolutely nothing. It says nothing, and it

means nothing. That’s the whole point.

IDA:

You’ve met Mr. Rockefeller. Tell me, what

kind of man is he?

A long beat as Lloyd looks at them both. Then...

LLOYD:

Let me tell you a little story.

(pause)

So it's 1878, and there's a young man named

Fred Backus, worked as a bookkeeper for

Rockefeller. He saves a little stake and

with the money buys a small lubricating

plant. He slaves over that thing for eight

years, turns it into a big success. Two

years later, he dies of consumption leaving

behind a wife and four kids.

28.

LLOYD (CONT'D)

So Rockefeller goes to meet the Widow

Backus to see if she'd be interested in

selling to him. Rockefeller, nice guy that

he is, says he'll take it off her hands for

60,000 dollars. She balks, telling him it's

worth ten times that. He suggests they get

down on their knees and “pray for a sign”

from God, which they do. Two days later,

the widow's house burns to the ground.

Widow and four kids are suddenly homeless.

But nobody knows how it started. There's no

inquest, no police investigation. So what

happens? She goes back to Rockefeller

begging him to buy the company off her,

which he does, for the low low price of

30,000 dollars.

(beat)

That should tell you a lot about what

“kind” of man he is.

EXT. LLOYDS’S HOUSE - LATER

Ida and Lloyd stand outside the house, saying their goodbye.

Siddal moves in and out, carting away boxes of files.

IDA:

Do you think he’d meet with me?

LLOYD:

(a laugh)

Rockefeller, give an interview? He’d sooner

shake hands with the devil. You might have

a shot with Rogers, though. He loves to

talk. Especially when the subject is

himself.

IDA:

Rogers..?

LLOYD:

Henry “Hellhound” Rogers. As fine a pirate

as ever flew a flag on Wall Street. He’s

the gatekeeper, Rockefeller’s right hand.

Until Junior wises up.

(beat)

Please don’t take this the wrong way, Miss

Tarbell. But I believe you’re wasting your

time.

IDA:

What makes you say that?

LLOYD:

No man can take on John D. Rockefeller, and

certainly no woman. Believe me, I know.

29.

Ida swallows this one. With some difficulty.

IDA:

Maybe you underestimate me, Mr. Lloyd, and

that’s okay. I’m hoping that others will

too.

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