Klute Page #3

INT. STAIRWELL OF BROWNSTONE - NIGHT

We watch Bree as she mounts to the top floor, the

door of her apartment, barren, isolated,

frightened.

INT. BREE'S APTARTMENT - NIGHT

BREE unlocks the door, switches on a light, cases

the apartment for a moment before entering,

securing chain-lock, putting aside her things.

There is a RECORD PLAYER near the first interior

doorway. She switches it as she moves by. By time

the first record has dropped, she has the shower

turned on, is getting rid of her dress. We CUT BACK

TO --

EXT. EMPTY STREET: KLUTE - NIGHT

Klute walks, as before, carrying his suitcase. We

see him slow, concernedly looking toward --

INT. BREE'S APARTMENT: ON BREE - NIGHT

Bree sits on a studio couch, near the record

player, with a QUILT huddled over and around her,

her back against the wall. The MUSIC is classical,

curiously -- the sound of a HARPSICHORD. She is

more or less expressionless -- but trembling

violently, shaking.

FRONT WINDOW SIGN BEING REMOVED WHICH READS "FOR

RENT" - STORE - INQUIRE CRAWICZ, DAY

INT. BREE's APARTMENT: BREE - DAY

Bree moves about energetically, preparing to set

out on rounds. A KNOCK on the door. She startled,

then approaches to door, to peep-hole, lifts lid

aside.

THROUGH PEEPHOLE TO KLUTE FACE

Klute's face is somewhat distorted by the peephole

lens; he is gazing mildly about the landing.

BREE:

BREE:

(through door, curtly)

What is it?

KLUTE (O.S.)

Miss Daniel? My name is Klute --

John Klute --

She turns the door handle , parts the door about

three inches, looks through at him. He starts to

enter.

KLUTE (CONT'D)

Can I talk to you?

-- and the door crunches against its chain-lock. He

stops perforce, a bit startled. A pause. A slice of

Bree's face looks coldly out at him. He summons a

smile.

BREE:

What about?

KLUTE:

My name's John Klute.

BREE:

You said that.

KLUTE:

I'm an investigator. I'd like to

ask you some questions about Tom

Grunemann.

She tightens again.

BREE:

Who?

KLUTE:

Tom Grunemann. He wrote you some

letters.

BREE:

(innocently)

Gee.

KLUTE:

He was a research engineer at the

Tuscarora Laboratories in

Pennsylvania. He disappeared from

there last April. I've been hired

to look for him.

BREE:

Why?

KLUTE:

You know what I'm talking about.

Miss Daniel.

BREE:

Honest?

KLUTE:

Will you let me ask you some

questions?

BREE:

(gumbo-southern)

Dew yew hayuv ah-dentifikyshun?

He takes out a folded letter and a wallet and

passes them both through to her. Silence. She

examines them with care, then appears to soften a

little; even smiles slightly.

BREE (CONT'D)

You're not police or FBI; you're

just a private investigator?

KLUTE:

Mm.

BREE:

And you just want to ask me a few

questions?

KLUTE:

Mm.

She smiles again, hands the letter and wallet back

out, closes the door (doesn't slam, just closes).

Klute looks at it blankly for a time, starts to

knock again, decides not to -- turns and descends

the stairs.

BREE:

Bree listens through the door to his departing foot

steps. They fade from hearing. She hastens to

assemble her properties.

EXT. FRONT DOOR - DAY

Klute comes out door and descends the stairs at the

same even pace -- he walks into the vacant store

below.

INT. BASEMENT STORE - DAY

It had once been a Boutique that sold happy

clothes. There are some psychedelic posters and a

few remnants of its former identity. Klute's

suitcase is propped open on a cot behind a counter.

The ceilings are low, forcing Klute to stoop as he

enters. He seems out of place and out of scale. A

case containing a tape recorder stands on the

floor. On the table are a FOLDER of Klute's notes,

and a paper bag. Klute enters and deliberately

resumes his settling in. From the paper bag he sets

aside an electric FAN, then lifts out from the

shopping bag a cheap tin ALARM CLOCK and begins

winding it.

INT. BREE'S APARTMENT - DAY

Bree has shifted position to a window, is looking

down at the street. She sees - and we hear - SOUND

OF BUS APPROACHING, distantly. She grabs her

properties, whips out the door.

EXT. ON DOOR OF BROWNSTONE - DAY

Bree skids to a stop just inside the door, scans

quickly out in one direction then the other (in

case Klute has been waiting in ambush on the

sidewalk) then races -- PAN -- to BUS AT CURB --

makes it, pulls herself aboard --

INT. KLUTE'S APARTMENT: KLUTE - DAY

Klute has been watching from his window. We hear

the BUS PULLING AWAY. He turns back, plugs in the

electric fan. Then hoists the TAPE RECORDER,

unsnaps the cover. We see clearly what it is.

INT. AGENCY OFFICE - DAY

BREE is showing her notebook to an AGENT. He leans

forward courteously, occasionally stroking his

forehead with his fingertips -- a nice man with a

headache.

BREE:

-- and I take acting classes with

Lee Tainter --

AGENT:

-- Lee, yes --

BREE:

-- and I was in two of his workshop

type productions, Uncle Vanya and

the girl in Five Characters --

(indicates picture)

-- here -- and then of course I

have the modeling and the

demonstrator work, the trade-fair

work -- but naturally I feel ready

for something more, well you know,

sustain --

AGENT:

Well, thanks very much for coming

in.

She starts for the door -- he's already turning

away -- then ducks back, hands him one of her

Glossies, laughing prettily at her own

forgetfulness.

BREE:

(beautifully -- the

business)

Thank you very much.

EXT. STREET - DAY

BREE comes out, pauses with notebook to cross out,

the call completed, checks the list of those

remaining, sets forth again. We hear TRASK'S VOICE

OVER, very quick, very clipped.

TRASK (V.O.)

Man, just a poor pretty little

hooker, like to be an actress --

INT. MISSING PERSONS BUREAU - DAY

CLOSEUP photograph of dead man. It is replaced with

series of photgraphs of dead men. CAMERA pulls back

to reveal KLUTE flipping through the file of the

unidentified dead.

TRASK (V.O.)

What you lookin' to get from her?

You think she's got Grunemann hid

somewhere, the attic, feedin him

soup? Or maybe he's hidin in a dark

alley and he'll jump on her and you

jump on him. And third place, even

if she does know somethin' she's

right, she don't have to talk to

you. You don't have police power,

you can't make her.

KLUTE closes the file.

KLUTE:

That's a lot of people to die

unknown.

TRASK:

Unknown, unidentified and unwanted.

And there's more every day man,

there's more everyday.

As KLUTE slowly walks away we bring in TELEPHONE

RING and BREE VOICE, OVER answering.

BREE VOICE:

Bree Daniel.

(then)

Yeah, hi hon.

EXT. BREE APARTMENT - NIGHT

Camera is looking up through lighted window outside

at BREE on phone.

BREE:

Oh hon, I just don't know. I'm

trying to stay out of it.

EXT. KLUTE APARTMENT - NIGHT

CAMERA pans down from BREE's window to KLUTE's

window at the bottom revealing KLUTE at tape

recorder. The TAPE RECORDER is going, its light

winking. KLUTE holds headset against one ear, makes

a note or two. We hear BREE's and other GIRL'S

VOICES, UNDER, FILTERED.

GIRL'S VOICE

-- comes in with these other yulds

maybe two or three times a year,

and five big ones baby, just one

evening.

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