Jennifer 8 Page #9

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ANN:

Shasta-Trinity Institute. Line one.

Sticks a sheet of notes on his desk and he junks the last call.

BERLIN (New call)

Hello .. Yes .. This is Sergeant

Berlin .. Yes, that's right .. I

believe my assistant explained? ..

How long ago was that? .. Uh-huh.

O.K. .. Who is who? .. Whass his

name? Goodridge? O.K. I'll hold ..

ROSS in transit grinning from ear to ear. BERLIN interested in

little but his notes and ROSS in nothing but obvious good news.

ROSS:

Pig Woman agreed to take a test.

BERLIN:

I think I got something - twenty

two years old, dark hair - study-

ing mathematics - (Yes, yes, I'm

holding) - Last seen 5 weeks ago ..

28:
EXT. LANDSCAPE/ROAD. TRINITY FOREST. DAY.

Mussorgsky is back on a shock cut. Big music and a shattering

landscape. Juniper woods and mountains. Sunlight on fresh fal-

len snow. Somewhere a long way off a car crawls up the valley.

Ross's car bursts into frame and as quickly the bend snatches

it away. An unexpected building in the distance. Victorian at

a glance but probably later. A clock tower and fifty lifeless

windows. The Chevy disappears towards its somber architecture.

29:
EXT. THE SHASTA-TRINITY INSTITUTE. DAY.

Pine trees and slush and parked cars. The Chevrolet swings in

and parks in front of the mansion. Breath in the air and eyes

on the ugly pile as they slam doors and head for its entrance.

30:
INT. ENTRANCE/RECEPTION. INSTITUTE. DAY.

BERLIN first with ROSS following. As soon as they hit the ent-

rance they trigger a recorded voice. "YOU ARE NOW AT THE MAIN

ENTRANCE. THERE ARE SIX STEPS." Midway up them with ROSS look-

ing back. "RECEPTION IS THROUGH SWING DOORS AND TO YOUR RIGHT."

31:
INT. PRINCIPAL'S OFFICER. INSTITUTE. DAY.

GOODRIDGE is mid-50's with a beard like Abraham Lincoln. Sits

far side of his desk alternating eyes between ROSS and BERLIN.

The latter studies a photograph of a Girl in a file. It's pos-

sible they've found Jennifer Two? "How recent is the picture?"

GOODRIDGE:

As recent as we have .. What ex-

actly is your interest in Amber?

BERLIN:

I'm afraid I can't give you an ans-

wer to that, Mr Goodridge. As I ex-

plained to your secretary, we're do-

ing a lotta looking, but we're not

even sure it's her we're lookin for ..

GOODRIDGE:

Then what are you hoping I'm gon-

na do? Dissuade, or persuade you?

BERLIN:

I was hopin since we spoke that you

might have remembered something that

would give us an idea where she is?

GOODRIDGE:

Then you could have saved yourself

a lot of driving, Sergeant. What I

said on the phone's the same as I'm

saying now. I got no idea where Amb-

er is, or who it was took her there.

He doesn't like them but not as much as ROSS doesn't like him.

ROSS:

A blind girl can just walk out of

here, and you don't know who with?

GOODRIDGE:

You find something curious in that?

ROSS:

Yeah, I guess I do.

GOODRIDGE:

Then let me put your mind at ease ..

Firstly, Amber isn't "blind" - she

has some useful vision - and second,

this isn't a prison, it's a college

of higher education - a severe vis-

ual disability doesn't mean my stud-

ents don't value their independence

as much as anybody else - and Amber

was a very independent young woman -

She decided to leave - so she left ..

ROSS:

And you got no idea with who?

GOODRIDGE:

No, Sergeant, I got no idea with who.

And I might add, that in another six

weeks, a hundred and fifty students

will be leaving here, & driving away

for their Christmas holidays with pe-

ople whose name I-won't-know-either ..

ROSS could sock him in the crop but the phone rings and he ex-

cuses himself to answer it. Whatever he hears he isn't liking.

You have an appointment with Miss

Robertson?

BERLIN:

Yes, Sir.

GOODRIDGE:

As she's a member of my staff,

may I ask what this is about?

BERLIN:

Well, apparently, she saw Amber the

weekend she left, & was briefly in

the room with the guy she left with.

GOODRIDGE:

I see .. Well, she's teaching an-

other class at four .. I'd apprec-

iate it if you don't detain her ..

32:
INT. CORRIDOR. INSTITUTE. DAY.

Looking back down a deserted corridor. Someone tried to put sun-

shine on the walls with yellow paint. Somewhere a long way away

there is a sound like children singing. ROSS loathes this joint.

Loathes its silence. Eyes back to BERLIN as he rings a doorbell.

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