Peeping Tom Page #22

MARK:

... aged five...

He presses another switch. There is a click, and the

screaming stops, to be replaced by a low sobbing.

MARK:

... aged seven...

He presses another switch. There is a moment's silence.

MARK:

All the rooms were wired for

sound... and... still are.

WE SUDDENLY HEAR the ticking of a clock.

MARK:

Your room.

CLOSE SHOT of Helen - listening.

MARK:

Your mother's .

The click of a switch - and we hear a loud snoring.

MARK:

Tony's.

The click of a switch - and we hear Tony's voice.

TONY (O.S.)

No one will come in... honestly,

darling...

GIRL'S VOICE (O.S.)

I don't care!

TONY:

But darling...

GIRL'S VOICE (O.S.)

Stop it, Tony!

Mark listens with interest.

HELEN:

(quietly)

Turn it off!

He does so - at once. She walks towards him. He turns away

from her.

HELEN:

Look at me, Mark!

MARK:

Not if you're frightened...

HELEN:

Look at me!

Slowly he faces her.

HELEN:

What did you do... to those girls?

MARK:

No.

HELEN:

What did you do, Mark...?

He tries to turn away - but she follows him.

HELEN:

If you want to torment me... for

the rest of my life... then make

me imagine!

CLOSE SHOT of Mark - his eyes closed.

HELEN:

What did you do ... to those girls?

MARK:

Can't...

HELEN:

Show me, Mark...

MARK:

But if you're frightened...

HELEN:

Show me - or I'll remain

frightened... for the rest of my

life. Show me!

He turns to his cine-camera, and picks it up. He releases

the tripod.

CAMERA HOLDS on Helen. She stands very still against the

wall. Mark's voice is overlaid.

MARK (O.S.)

Do you know... what the most

frightening thing in the world

is?...

She is looking at something, puzzled.

MARK:

It's fear.

The sound of his footsteps approaching...

MARK:

So I did something... very simple...

WE SEE a look of fear spring into her eyes.

MARK:

Very simple.

WE SEE the spike approaching her throat... but she is

looking at something else.

MARK:

When they felt the spike... touching

their throats... and knew I was

going to kill them...

The spike is touching her throat.

MARK:

... I made them - watch their own

deaths!

CLOSE SHOT of Helen's face several times its natural size.

She is looking at herself in a large circular magnifying

mirror which has been fitted over the camera's face. The

mirror entirely obscures both Mark and the camera. There

is a small hole in the mirror through which the lens of

the camera winks. As Helen looks at her terrified distorted

face this small hole gives her an extra eye in the middle

of her forehead.

MARK:

Made them see their own terror as

the spike went in... and if death

has a face, they saw that too!

CLOSE SHOT of Mark - crouching behind the mirror, sweat

pouring down his forehead... his finger on the trigger of

the camera.

MARK:

Not you! Not you! I'll never

photograph you! I promised - I

promised - Not you!

Helen's eyes are closed. The spike is still touching her

throat.

CLOSE SHOT of Mark � his face turned away from the

viewfinder.

HELEN:

... frightened ... for you...

There's the sound of a car pulling up. He hurries to the

other room.

EXT. HOUSE - NIGHT

The Police arrive: three cars. Mark appears at an upstairs

window with his camera.

SERGEANT:

Look out!

He thinks Mark has a gun. They all duck. Mark raises his

camera and photographs them. The Police recover and charge

for the house. Mark disappears.

INT. DARK-ROOM - NIGHT

Mark hurries back into the room carrying his camera. He

knows exactly what he has to do.

HELEN:

Mark! Mark! Give yourself up!

MARK:

I've been ready for this... for

such a long time...

Rapidly he fixes his camera on to a hook on the wall. Then

he adjusts the tripod so that the spikes protrude towards

him...

HELEN:

What are you...

MARK:

It'll be all right.

He makes chalk marks on the floor in front of the camera,

then switches on all the floodlights. WE CAN HEAR the

Policemen pounding on the door.

MARK:

I can beat that!

He crosses to a switch - presses it. The room is filled

with a small boy's screaming.

HELEN:

Give yourself up... Mark!

He stands next to her, and looks at his long array of

cameras. WE SEE that each one of them has been fitted with

a small metal disc (a delayed release), and that some of

the older cameras have flashlights attached.

MARK:

Watch them, Helen... Watch them

say goodbye - one by one -

(he presses a master

switch on the wait)

I've timed this... so often...

Slowly he walks past his cameras. As he does, the metallic

disc on each one explodes with a little plop - and the eye

of each camera winks once as if in salute. Some go off

with flashlights on either side of the room. The sound of

footsteps hurrying up the stairs.

Ahead of Mark - coming steadily closer � are the spikes of

the tripod. The mirror on the cine-camera reflects the

approach - and Helen's terrified face.

HELEN:

No - No!

The child's screaming reaches its peak as Mark approaches

the spikes... Ahead of him, on the small table where his

projector stands, is Helen's book The Magic Camera.

MARK:

I wish... I could have found your

faces for you...

The Policemen are now rattling on the dark-room door.

MARK:

Helen - I'm afraid!

We see his face, terrified, in the magnifying mirror. The

spikes are against his throat. The eye of the camera is

winking rapidly.

MARK:

I'm glad I'm afraid!

Heavy shoulders are pressing against the dark-room door...

as it breaks in, Mark lunges forward against the spikes.

The cine-camera is wrenched away from the wall as he falls

back. He crashes against the small table, which falls over.

He is not parted from his camera - it is fixed to him by

the tripod, and falls back with him, covering his face

like a canopy. WE SEE his face in the lens of the cine-

camera. and WE SEE his hand - lying limp on the cover of

The Magic Camera.

The Policemen hurry into the room. They stare motionless

at what they see.

CLOSE SHOT of Helen - her face buried in her hands.

The child's screaming stops suddenly... and in the absolute

silence which follows WE HEAR the voice of Mark's father:

FATHER'S VOICE (O.S.)

Don't be a silly boy... there's

nothing to be afraid of...

And a small voice answers.

CHILD'S VOICE (O.S.)

Good night, Daddy...

The spotlights begin to dim... The dazzling white of the

16mm screen fades slowly into greyness...

The room is filled with the gentle breathing of a small

child.

FADE OUT:

THE END:

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