Lost Souls Page #11

PETER:

What happened?

JOSEF:

(enjoyably ghoulish)

Apparently she killed herself sometime

last night.

(confidentially)

The paramedics told me she hung herself.

Climbed up on her dresser, stocking

around her neck, but I don't know. She

was completely rheumatoid...

(realizes he's speaking with

too much relish)

It's a shame. Anyway, though you should

know.

Peter's stunned and now completely unnerved.

PETER:

Yeah, I appreciate it. Thanks, Josef.

CLAIRE:

(frightened)

When did they find her?

JOSEF:

A few hours ago.

Claire's blown away by the night's events.

INT. PETER'S HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

Peter has slowed to look at the yellow police cordon, as

Claire moves on into their apartment.

INT. PETER'S KITCHEN

A bit later, Peter and Claire, both still shaken, sit across

from a relieved Father James, drinking coffee.

FATHER JAMES:

It's moments like this that make it

clear. All that matters is those we

love are with us.

Peter's touched. He pats James on the shoulder.

CLAIRE:

I'm still shaking.

PETER:

I can't believe Will killed him.

CLAIRE:

Thank God he did.

Claire stands, exhausted. She bends down, kissing Peter on

the cheek, only because James is there, and then she gives

Peter a sweet hug.

CLAIRE (CONT'D)

(deeply felt)

I don't know what I'd do without you.

Peter hugs her tightly. An emotional moment.

CLAIRE (CONT'D)

I'm going to bed. Don't be long.

Claire exits. James looks at Peter, sees the night's events

have taken their toll.

FATHER JAMES:

What is it?

PETER:

Something he said, just before...

FATHER JAMES:

He spoke to you?

PETER:

Yeah. It didn't make any sense.

FATHER JAMES:

Listen to me, Peter. You can't let the

ravings of a madman disturb you, okay?

PETER:

You're right, but it's funny. All my

life I thought I was simply a man who

didn't believe in any of it.

FATHER JAMES:

No matter, my son, he believes in you.

PETER:

But it's true. I have no faith. It's

strange. When that gun was pointed at

my face tonight, I was surprised, but

never frightened. It was as if I knew

nothing could possibly happen to me

and...in that one moment I didn't care

about anything. Not eve my own life.

FATHER JAMES:

Peter. Your life must matter to you

because it matters to all of us who love

you.

PETER:

You know, I respect that you have such

faith, James. I don't understand it,

but I want you to know that despite our

differences, I admire you and I always

will.

Father James stands and claps his hand on Peter's shoulders.

FATHER JEREMY:

I appreciate your saying that. I'm

gonna go now. I believe you're wanted

elsewhere.

INT. MAYA'S ROOM - EARLY MORNING

Maya is making coffee in a drip pot on a hot plate. There is

a soft knock on the door.

MAYA:

Come in.

Father Jeremy enters and shuts the door behind him.

FATHER JEREMY:

His faith wavered. He tried to shoot

Kelson last night. I don't know all the

details.

MAYA:

Was anyone else hurt?

FATHER JEREMY:

I don't know. I don't think so.

A curious conflict of emotions passes across Maya's face -

sadness coupled with relief. She sits heavily on the bed.

FATHER JEREMY (CONT'D)

Be careful, Maya.

EXT. MANHATTAN - MORNING

The hustle and bustle of a typical weekday morning. As Peter

crosses the street, nearing his office, suddenly a MESSENGER

on a bicycle skids and falls. The Messenger's on the ground,

crashed, his mail everywhere. Immediately Peter moves to

help him up, grabbing an arm, trying to collect the spilled

envelopes. All the morning PEDESTRIANS step over or around

the mess, in typical New York fashion. The embarrassed

Messenger thanks Peter, AD-LIB, and we...

INT. PETER'S OFFICE

Peter's typing at his computer. He is surrounded by

newspaper clippings, interview transcripts and other research

relevant to the Viznick trial. His printer JAMS. As he

moves to fix it, the intercom blinks.

PETER:

Yeah.

MRS. QUINTANA

It's Detective Smythe.

Peter picks up.

PETER:

What's up?

SMYTHE (O.S.)

How're you doin' today?

PETER:

(tough)

It's another day. I think I'm alright.

SMYTHE (O.S.)

You got the right attitude, anyway,

look, we gotta talk.

EXT. POLICE STATION - DAY

Smythe exits the building just as Peter approaches.

SMYTHE:

I'm fed up inside, let's walk.

Peter and Smythe take a walk down the street. Smythe stops a

moment at an outdoor vendor. Buys a hotdog.

SMYTHE (CONT'D)

We traced this guy to a seminary in

Newark. If you can believe it, he was a

deacon.

(shifting a file under his arm)

Talked to the man in charge there, a

Father Frank Page. He said the gunman,

John Townsend, was caught up in some

nonsense about the Devil, along with a

priest named Lareaux and a woman named

Maya Larkin - the same woman whose

prints were on that coffee cup. Now can

I please get the fill?

Smythe licks a mouthful of mustard just ready to drip, then

takes a huge bite off his dog.

PETER:

She came to me with a wild story about

demonic possession.

SMYTHE:

(hands Peter Maya's file)

She's got a juvenile record from New

Orleans. Parents died when she was 13.

PETER:

Parents died?

SMYTHE:

Yeah, murder-suicide.

PETER:

What happened?

SMYTHE:

Mother killed the father, then killed

herself. Crime of passion.

PETER:

She told me she killed them.

SMYTHE:

Not what the records show. Anyway, she

was a runaway, arrests for vandalism,

petty theft, drugs, the whole bit.

Parole records show she graduated from

community college, moved into a retreat

house, teaches some classes at the

seminary school, hasn't been in any

trouble since.

Smythe finishes his hot dog and chucks the wrapper into a

nearby can.

SMYTHE (CONT'D)

We hauled her in earlier but didn't have

anything hard to tie her to Townsend.

Far as the priest goes, he won't be

bothering you. Suffered a complete

mental breakdown, during - get this -

during an exorcism.

PETER:

Where is she now?

SMYTHE:

Had to let her go.

(beat)

I see you thinkin' there, superstar.

Don't.

EXT. RANGE ROVER - DAY

Peter drives into the Lincoln Tunnel. Two men stand outside

the entrance, arguing. As Peter passes, they begin fighting.

SMYTHE (V.O.)

I'm sure I don't have to remind you

she's still a possible accessory to

attempted murder...

INT. CLASSROOM - DAY

Maya stands before a roomful of children. She holds an over

sized picture of a hat.

THE CLASS:

Le Chapeau.

MAYA:

Tres bien.

SMYTHE (V.O.)

...and the obvious, you could get

another gun in your face.

Next is a picture of a dog.

THE CLASS:

Le Chien.

PETER (V.O.)

Don't worry, I won't go anywhere near

her.

The door to the hall is abruptly flung open. Peter strides

in. Maya sees his anger.

PETER (CONT'D)

(harsh)

We need to talk.

MAYA:

Peter, please...

Peter's overt belligerence scares the children.

PETER:

Now!

He motions towards the door. Maya turns to the class.

MAYA:

Children, I'll be right back. Just stay

in...

Peter grabs her and escorts her to the door.

MAYA (CONT'D)

(unconvincing smile)

...your seats. Be right back. Don't

worry.

And as she's pulled into the hall, we SEE:

INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

Maya, still holding the brightly colored vocabulary pictures,

stands with Peter in the hallway. Opposite her in the hall,

is a window, and to the left, an old radiator with chipped

enamel paint. Next to the wall is a plain wooden bench.

Maya stands with her back to her classroom door. She

continually checks on her kids through a window in the door.

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