Lord of Illusions Page #3

And now, at last the violence of Nix's death-throes

diminishes. Nix's body bends like a bow, arching off the

ground, and with one last, terrible spasm, he dies.

GIRL:

(quietly)

Is it finished?

SWANN:

It's finished.

INT. NIX'S HOUSE - PASSAGEWAY - DAY

The Cultists' faces slacken, as though some mental hold Nix

had upon them has disappeared. Then they start to retreat,

their confidence and courage gone.

Pimm steps into the Sanctum.

INT. NIX'S HOUSE - SANCTUM - DAY

The five assassins, including the Girl, stand around Nix's

body. Swann has his arm around the Girl.

PIMM:

Dead?

QUAID:

Dead.

PIMM:

What now?

SWANN:

We bury him so deep no one will

ever find him.

CUT TO:

EXT. NIX'S .HOUSE - WIDE SHOT - DUSK

The wind has died away. It's eerily calm. Butterfield

dashes towards camera, then halts.

HE LOOKS BACK, as Nix's killers load his huge, limp CORPSE

into the back of Murray Pimm's bus.

ON Butterfield. He watches, with a feral look on his face.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. LOS ANGELES - MONTAGE - DAY

The city looks magical in the spring light, its palms and

gleaming towers, its rivers of sun-baked traffic, evoking

some fantastical metropolis. This, for all its smog and

congestion, is a city of exoticism and enchantments.

ON SCREEN, the words: "LOS ANGELES - THIRTEEN YEARS LATER"

EXT. STARDUST HOTEL - DAY

The facade of this small HOTEL off Hollywood Boulevard needs

a lick of paint, and the neon sign is blinking fitfully, but

it has a certain charm.

INT. STARDUST HOTEL - LOBBY - DAY

A large deteriorating mural of Hollywoodland, depicting a

host of 50's movie stars, dominates the lobby.

At the front desk - with his back to us at present - stands

HARRY D'AMOUR. He is having difficulty getting the pretty

but vacant BLONDE at the reception desk to comprehend his

name.

BLONDE GIRL:

How'd you spell that again?

HARRY:

D.A.M.O.U.R. D'Amour. Harry

D'Amour.

BLONDE GIRL:

D'Amour.

HARRY:

Right.

BLONDE GIRL:

Isn't that French for something?

ON THE BELLBOY, approaching Harry from the front door.

BELLBOY:

Mister D'Amour?

HARRY:

(to Blonde)

Yeah. It's French.

BLONDE GIRL:

For love, right?

BELLBOY:

Mister D'Amour?

HARRY:

(to Blonde)

Right.

BLONDE GIRL:

(grinning)

That's so cool.

BELLBOY:

Mister D'Amour?

Harry turns. He's wearing a washed-out Grateful Dead t-

shirt, an Italian cut linen suit, and glasses. He's

handsome, unshaven, 35-ish, with an open easy smile.

HARRY:

Yeah?

BELLBOY:

You haven't paid the cab. He won't

give us your bags 'til you pay him.

HARRY:

How much?

BELLBOY:

Thirty-five bucks.

HARRY:

Tell him he can keep them. The

Bellboy looks puzzled.

HARRY:

Just kidding.

Harry gets out his wallet and hands over four ten-dollar

bills.

HARRY:

I've got my life in there.

INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY

On the suit-case, which is now on the bed. Harry flings it

open. Inside, mingled with the clothes, a bizarre collection

of items, which he tosses out onto the coverlet. A GUN. A

CRUCIFIX. A STATUE of Shiva, the Hindu Lord of creation and

destruction.

ON HARRY, as he heads into the bathroom. Turns on the

shower. Starts to undress.

EXT. STARDUST HOTEL - DUSK

Harry, his hair still wet from his shower, steps out into the

sun. Squints. Puts on sunglasses.

HARRY:

Hello, L.A.

BELLBOY:

Have a nice evening, Mr. D'Amour.

HARRY:

You bet.

EXT. MELROSE RESTAURANT - NIGHT

Harry stands, in a shabby doorway across the street from a

classy restaurant. It's RAINING.

ON TAPERT, a middle-aged, balding man with a very pretty

WOMAN opposite him, sitting at a table close to the window.

Tapert makes a joke (unheard). The woman laughs.

ON HARRY, chewing on a hamburger, as he speaks into his tape

recorder.

HARRY:

Nine-eighteen p.m. Tapert's either

got a great sense of humour or he's

paying her to laugh.

(looks at hamburger in

disgust)

Jesus.

On Tapert, as he rises from the table.

HARRY:

(into tape recorder)

He's finished.

Tapert exits the restaurant, and crosses the street. Harry

tosses his half-eaten hamburger away, and goes to his car.

EXT. HARRY'S CAR - MELROSE - NIGHT

Harry pulls the parking ticket off the windshield, screws it

up and gets in.

INT. HARRY'S CAR - MELROSE - NIGHT

HARRY:

(into tape)

Nine twenty-six p.m. He's off

again.

He turns the key in the ignition.

CUT TO:

EXT. QUAID'S OFFICES - SILVERLAKE - NIGHT

In neon blue and purple, a sign blazes in a store window. It

reads:
TAROT CARD AND CRYSTAL READINGS - $15 SPECIAL

ON TAPERT, as he hurries across the street, and through the

door beside the store window.

WE PAN OFF the door as Harry's car comes to a halt on the far

side of the street.

Harry gets out of the car. Stares at the sign in the window,

puzzled.

HARRY:

Superstitious?

He starts across the street. Suddenly:

TAPERT (V.O.)

Oh my God!

Tapert emerges, his face white with terror. He stumbles to

his car, and he's away. Harry freezes, caught between the

need to follow Tapert and sheer curiosity. He gives in to the

latter, and steps inside.

INT. QUAID'S OFFICES - STAIRWELL - NIGHT

An illuminated ARROW points up the stairs. Harry ascends,

past faded PHOTOGRAPHS of Caspar Quaid with famous faces.

At the landing, the passageway turns ninety degrees. Harry

halts, and takes out his GUN.

There's a strange RUMBLING SOUND approaching from round the

corner. Harry chances a look. There's a short length of

passageway, leading to an open door. From the threshold a

CRYSTAL BALL rolls towards Harry, BLOOD- SMEARED. This is

the source of the rumbling. Harry stops the ball before it

falls down the stairs.

Dead silence. After a beat, Harry creeps towards the open

door. He pushes it open. Inside, chaos. The fake antique

FURNITURE is splintered, the ASTRAL CHARTS slashed.

INT. QUAID'S OFFICES - WAITING ROOM - NIGHT

There are two offices. In the front, a Waiting Room, into

which Harry now steps. Beyond it, through a door that stands

narrowly ajar, the Fortune Telling Room.

From out of the Fortune Telling Room, a MOAN.

QUAID (V.O.)

Ahh. . .

Harry crosses the Waiting Room, reaching into his jacket for

his gun. Suddenly, a nightmarish FIGURE leaps from the

shadows.

His name is RAY MILLER. He's as crazy as a rabid dog, teeth

sharpened, eyes wild. Nix's SIGIL is tattooed on the middle

of his forehead. He STRIKES the GUN from Harry's hand and

goes for his throat.

Harry reaches out behind him, picks up a phrenologist's BUST

and SMASHES it on Miller's skull.

Miller reels back. Harry makes a dash for the door to the

Fortune Telling Room.

MILLER:

Fuckhead.

INT. QUAID'S OFFICES - FORTUNE-TELLING ROOM - NIGHT

A mysterious, candle-lit space. In the middle of the room, a

table. At it sits Quaid. thirteen years older. He has been

tortured close to death. Several small SCALPELS protrude

from his chest and neck. His life is ebbing away. On the

table in front of him, a fan of TAROT CARDS, BLOOD-SPATTERED.

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