Jennifer 8 Page #18

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Christmas ads interrupt the movie. BERLIN sighs in frustration.

Starts doodling on the paperback. Shakespeare acquires glasses.

I can't request anything right now ..

push one more inch, I lose the lot ..

[Well, listen, I'll run the Bay Area

for you. But if you want a print-out

of every John in California with a V.

W. van, that's gotta be official. I'm

sorry] .. That's O.K. Thank you, Dan ..

61:
INT. CHIEF'S OFFICE. POLICE STATION. DAY.

A painting of Ronald Reagan fills the screen. So awful it's al-

most impressive. Next to it is a formal photograph of the City

Mayor (Mr Heineman) . BERLIN continues to wait with eyes switch-

ing to a picture of the Taj Mahal. "I love to paint." He turns

as CITRINE walks in. "It's not great art, but I change the col-

ors." Heads for his desk and sits dispensing with the crutches.

CITRINE:

I'm shutting you down on

this "blind thing," John.

BERLIN:

Is that my punishment for

embarrassing Mr Heineman?

CITRINE:

Don't underestimate me .. the

Mayor's pissed - but that's

nothing to do with this - sit

down - How many times have you

been up at that institute?

BERLIN:

Three or four.

CITRINE:

I'm talking, outside the girl?

BERLIN:

Once.

CITRINE:

Got a letter from this Goodridge guy?

Says, you're upsetting his students?

BERLIN:

That's bullshit,

CITRINE:

He says, you freaked one of em out?

(Reading the letter)

"Asking a newly blind kid if he can

'see,' is both cruel, and dangerous" ..

He floats the letter across the desk and hears the explanation.

BERLIN:

I never asked if he could "see." I

just asked one or two of the stud-

ents if they remembered anything?

CITRINE:

And did they?

BERLIN:

No.

CITRINE rubs his forehead in preparation to change the subject,

CITRINE:

I'm not a nasty man, John, I'm a nice

man .. I get a lot of Christmas cards

(a lot of cards on the wall)

.. and I'm getting a lot of complaints.

The guy you replaced was something you-

're not - a lazy sonovabitch - but the

reality is, I was getting a faster ser-

vice outta Popeye than I am outta you ..

I can't allow this to continue, John ..

If there was any argument to be had BERLIN would be arguing it.

I don't want you up at that institute

again .. and I'm flat-out about that ..

I'm sorry, I know it means something

to you - you can go tell your witness

if you feel you must - but as far as

you're concerned, the case is closed ..

62:
EXT. CITY STREET. CITY OF EUREKA. NIGHT.

Colored lights strung across the street. Symptoms of Christmas

everywhere. Store windows full of trashy decorations and every-

thing soluable in mist. ROSS and BERLIN develop out of it like

Polaroids. Their destination is a dingy looking downstairs bar.

BERLIN:

God, it pisses me off, Ross.

ROSS:

No God, Brother. If there was

a God, asses wouldn't be at

the perfect height for kicking.

63:
INT. "ANGELA'S BAR." CITY OF EUREKA. NIGHT.

This is the local Copper's bar. It's full of cigarette smoke &

Coppers. Laughter & sugar music. "I'll Be Seeing You." "Sentim-

ental Journey." Either one of these is playing. Familiar Faces

among those drinking at the bar. The forty-two-year-old BLONDE

serving them is busy. She is in possession of very big breasts.

VENABLES:

Can I buy you a beer, Sergeant?

ROSS:

Don't try and ingratiate your-

self with me, Venables. But just

this once I'll have a Heineken ..

and John here will have one, too.

ROSS pokes VENABLES a surreptitious 20 with eyes on the BLONDE.

Right now she's far end of the bar delivering a beer to BISLEY.

(Look at those Amazingly Bos-

oms) You wanna beer, King Jay?

TAYLOR:

No, I gotta go .. I'm nights ..

TAYLOR gets a last cough out of a cigarette before stubbing it.

BLATTIS:

Gimme a ride?

TAYLOR:

Sure ..

And he's already gathered his sh*t and halfway into his jacket.

How's that hand-job comin along, John?

BERLIN makes a gesture he'd have trouble understanding himself.

ROSS:

Hey, we're not talking "talk" tonight.

TAYLOR:

No one's gonna make that Gent. Six

months investigation, & the nearest

we got, we thought he was a sailor.

BERLIN:

A sailor?

By now TAYLOR is moving through the crush of faces behind them.

TAYLOR:

Yeah, in and outta Frisco on

the big boats .. Every lead

we had went right out to sea ..

Night, night, Freddy T .. John ..

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