Jennifer 8 Page #28

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[John? John? Are you al-

right? .. Come in, John?]

112:
EXT. REAR OF INSTITUTE/FIRE ESCAPE. NIGHT.

ROSS savaged by the gale. In considerable anxiety. Less than a

volt in his batteries. His failure to contact Berlin accelerat-

es his concern by the moment. Calls repeatedly "You hearing me?"

Big close on the radio. Fingers switch channels. Tries calling

on five/six. Still nothing and goes to channel eight. "Come in,

John?" Alright f*** it. Light or no light. He's going up there.

Still calling he barges at the wind making for the fire escape.

[You hear me? Just be care-

ful now, coz I'm coming up]

Stares up into the gloom of the iron stairs. Hardly got a foot

on the first before a Figure rushes down. Dressed in black and

very breathless. A powerful flashlight floods on dazzling ROSS.

Is that you, John? .. Ans-

wer. NOW .. Or I blow this

fucken staircase to pieces.

BERLIN [?]

Me, Freddy.

Thank Jesus the anxiety's over. The 12 gauge drops to his side.

ROSS:

What the hell's going on up there,

Brother? I been calling 10 minutes.

The light remains steady and blinding and straight in his face.

Hey, c'mon, John .. Talk to me ...

Just the sound of breathlessness. Plus a .25 Walther automatic.

Jesus Christ .. What are you doing?

It glints at the peripheries of his vision and ROSS is alarmed.

What the f*** are you doing? - It's

me - Holy sh*t! - John - John - Not

you - Don't shoot you crazy bastard!

Two deathly flashes in quick succession. The first practically

taken Ross's hand off. The second slams into his guts and he's

down. The Glaser is unequalled in ferocity by any other bullet.

113:
EXT. FIRE ESCAPE (ATTIC LEVEL). INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

The MYOPIC JANITOR looks down. Five floors below a man lays on

his back. His shotgun discharges uselessly into trees. Another

man leans over him. Illuminates his agonized face with a flash-

light. Shoots him again point-blank in the upper body. The MYO-

PIC isn't staying for more. Hurries back along the fire escape.

114:
INT. ATTIC APARTMENT. INSTITUTE. NIGHT.

Wind breaks on the roof like waves. An utterly dismal room lit

by a starving light bulb. The MYOPIC arrives from the fire esc-

ape. Huge eyes behind those orb-like glasses. Picks up a phone

and dials. Piles and piles of old newspapers. Hundreds of f***

magazines. In the kitchen section a mass of photographic equip-

ment includes an enlarger on the table a flash camera. On the

wall behind him a collage of snaps of half dressed girls. Plus

a special enlargement of Helena standing naked in her bathroom.

MYOPIC:

Gimme the police. Quickly.

115:
EXT. REAR OF INSTITUTE. FIRE ESCAPE. NIGHT.

Close on a bulb in a flashlight. The merest glimmer of energy.

Barely the light to see the blood. It seeps into a long-frozen

footprint in the ice. Fills it fast and expands over the sides.

Somebody say this can't be happening? BERLIN crumples to knees

in the snow. Dumps his light gasping for breath. Oblique light

creating desperate silhouettes. BERLIN howls like a dog. Howls

into his radio. "Nine - Nine - Nine." Blood all over his hands.

"This is a Nine - Nine - Nine - officer down." ROSS is heaving

like an old bull elephant. On the verge of unconsciousness. He

tries to speak. Got hit in the throat. BERLIN fights off tears.

"Don't talk old man." Repeats the emergency code but this time

he can't be heard. Almost imperceptibly a Carol filters in (In

The Bleak Mid Winter) and the Camera moves slowly away. BERLIN

cradles ROSS's tragic head and the song drowns the raging wind.

This beautiful Christmas carol will articulate rhythm of these

cuts. And there will be no other sound until the sequence ends.

116:
EXT. CITY STREET. CITY HOSPITAL. NIGHT.

A blue emergency light. Revolving in slow motion. Like a dream.

The city streets are a blur. The light accelerates into sudden

reality. Ambulance plus police convoy speed to a city hospital.

117:
INT. EMERGENCY ROOM. HOSPITAL. NIGHT.

Close-up of MARGIE kissing her husband's lips for the last time.

Tears spill down his cheeks from her eyes. FREDDY ROSS is dead.

118:
INT. WAITING AREA. HOSPITAL. NIGHT.

Outside in the corridor. Looking in at BERLIN. He sits head in

hands on a bench. This is somebody's point of view. The camera

travels up the windows. Waits at a distance as CITRINE arrives.

Pajamas under his clothes. He walks with assistance of a stick.

Neither say anything because both know what this is about. BER-

LIN stands and hands over his badge. Exits the mag and now his

Beretta. A brief word from CITRINE and he turns and walks away.

119:
EXT. LANDSCAPE. BERLIN'S HOUSE. DAWN.

A little house in winter meadows. Kind of pretty now it's pain-

ted. Just the first tint of pink on its roof. The Carol dissol-

ves into birdsong. Here comes the sun for a fine Christmas day.

120:
EXT. VERANDA. HOUSE. DAWN.

All new paint and all new things in expectation of happy times.

A barbecue still in polythene wraps. Price tag and unconnected

gas pipe shift gently in the breeze. A brand now swinging seat.

BERLIN sits in it with shock wearing on. Expressionless of sor-

row. Though he suffers every sorrow and guilt and regret there

is. Sunlight reaches the veranda and colors the end of it red.

silent and motionless he watches the lousiest dawn of his life.

121:
EXT/INT. THE ROSS RESIDENCE. LIVING ROOM. DAY.

Lights glow on the Christmas tree. Unopened presents still und-

erneath. SERATO sits smoking in silence. Listens to a sound of

plates getting stacked in another room. He looks up but not in

surprise. He just wasn't aware BERLIN had arrived in the house.

BERLIN:

Where's Margie?

Stunned and stubbled and full of grief. And that's just SERATO.

SERATO:

Taken Bobby to her sister's ..

This atmosphere is unbearable and even these whispers seem laud.

They were going there anyway.

BERLIN:

Does he know?

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