Jennifer 8 Page #21

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81:
INT/EXT. VOLKSWAGEN VAN/CAR PARK. DINER. NIGHT.

A slide door rolls open and BERLIN peers in. Full of furniture

and cardboard crates stenciled "TRINITY INSTITUTE - CRAFT DEPT."

Worth the try but forget it. This bastard obviously has legit-

imate business at the institute. Takes a last poke around with

the light. Spots something red. A cigarette butt caked in lip-

stick. But what's this white stuff? Some kind of powder spills

from a capsule crushed in the door rails. He picks it up for a

look and gets a bad one from behind! "Whatta you doing, Mister?"

BERLIN finds himself facing an irate looking Woman in her 20's.

A lot of red hair and freckles. But definitely more frightened

than angry. His Police Department badge is an instant sedative.

Gives her some crap about thefts from vehicles round here. She

should keep her doors locked. She smiles and thought they were.

BERLIN:

Got your driver's license?

She hands it across and he inspects it coz that's what cops do.

I noticed you coming outta the

institute. You up there a lot?

WOMAN:

Oh, it was you that

nearly ran into me?

BERLIN:

No, it was you that nearly ran

into me .. You up there a lot?

WOMAN:

I guess, more than usual this

time of the year. My mother & I

run an Arts & Crafts center, we

buy a lot from the institutes ..

BERLIN:

Where's your store, Amanda?

WOMAN:

Oakland.

Hands the license back and is already heading for his Mercedes.

BERLIN:

Next pit-stop, you make sure your

doors are locked. Merry Christmas.

82:
INT. BATHROOM/LIVING ROOM. APARTMENT. NIGHT.

If there's moonlight that's the only light. Nothing to see but

a pair of large taps. Nothing to hear but a bath filling. Then

something starts bleeping. It's a liquid-level-indicator activ-

ated by rising water. A hand searches for taps. Shuts them off

and silences the indicator. The frame expands to reveal HELENA.

She moves to a hand basin. Finds a brush and fixes hair. Finds

a clip and pins it up. Close as she kicks off shoes. Pantyhose

descend on top of them. Walks into the living room unbuttoning

her shirt. Vanishes into the bedroom and the Camera waits. Ret-

urns with towels and the Camera follows back into the bathroom.

A creaking hinge as she closes the door. A dressing gown hangs

on a hook. She reaches for it and turns and virtually bumps in-

to the Sonovabitch. Dressed in black and stealthy as a cat. He

retreats a pace deeper into the darkness. Just enough light to

see he wears glasses. And just enough light to see her undress.

HELENA unzips her skirt. Slides it down her lags. Drapes it on

a chair. Removes her shirt and hangs it on the back. She wears

a white brassiere and panties. And no apologies for repetition.

This is a fantastic body. She checks water temperature. Either

too hot or too cold. Either way a tap goes on. Now she reaches

behind her back. Unclips her bra. Gets hit with dazzling light.

The Intruder is taking photographs. And if this is his turn-on

he's in paradise. She stands in front of him in total oblivion.

Her panties join clothes on the chair. Nov she's naked and now

another picture. Again the bathroom detonates with white light.

His face is concealed by the camera. But this bastard is about

to run out of luck. Moves in as she silences the tap. Suddenly

a lot of silence about. HELENA twists in panic. She just heard

something? Didn't she just hear something? Is somebody in here?

Fear kills her scream. She hits at the darkness. But he's gone.

83:
INT. LIVING ROOM/KITCHEN. BERLIN'S HOUSE. DAY.

Big close on telephone ringing. No one home except the machine

and Camera. The former answers on behalf of Berlin [John, it's

me .. please call me .. I left two messages at the police stat-

ion .. they said you weren't there .. please, please, call me].

The camera moves on. Breakfast remains on the table. Newspaper

still in its wraps. Out the window a bonfire rages in the yard.

84:
EXT. YARD. HOUSE. DAY.

BERLIN clears rubbish from the garage. Grime and sweat and the

effort's got him breathless. Heaves another armful on the fire.

The phone starts ringing again. This time he decides to answer.

85:
INT. CORRIDOR/ADMIN. POLICE STATION. DAY.

BERLIN in a hurry to get there. Footsteps tell the story. Fast

up a corridor and through a door. Faces look as he crosses the

department. SECRETARIES and BISLEY and ROSS. But only one face

of interest. TAYLOR turns halfway through lighting a cigarette.

"Are you outta your fucken mind?" TAYLOR says nothing. "If any-

thing happens to that girl, I'm gonna break your f***ing back."

TAYLOR:

Just easy on the words you're

putting in my face, Sergeant ..

ROSS:

Whass going on here?

A question practically every expression in the place is asking.

TAYLOR:

His blind friend got "attacked."

Angelo went up there, and some-

how, it got itself in the paper.

BERLIN:

You put it in there.

TAYLOR:

I may have said some-

thing. I don't recall.

BERLIN:

Don't lie, Taylor. I just had

this Blattis guy on the phone

asking me for a comment - you

gave him the whole damned case!

TAYLOR:

Alright, I gave him the case? ..

So the case is closed, so what?

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