Phone Booth Page #10

There's silence now between them.

VOICE:

Stu? Stu, don't be that way.

You're taking the pleasure out of

it.

Stu doesn't take the bait. He remains absolutely silent.

A stalemate has been reached.

WE RACK FOCUS ACROSS THE STREET TO THE POLICE

clustered behind an emergency vehicle. The Sergeant brings a

civilian to meet Captain Ramey of the SWAT unit. The

newcomer wears coveralls stenciled "AT&T." (Although they

are very far away, we hear their voices close up as they come

into sharper focus.)

SERGEANT:

This here's Helfand, of New York

Telephone.

HELFAND:

Glad to help out.

RAMEY:

Have you got the number of that

booth?

HELFAND:

Sure do.

RAMEY:

Can you tap into that call?

HELFAND:

It can be done.

SERGEANT:

But not without a warrant. You

could be violating this psycho's

civil rights. Especially if he's

on the line with his f***ing

psychiatrist.

RAMEY:

Sh*t. I don't want to blow this on

a technicality. Tracing the call

isn't any violation, is it?

SERGEANT:

As long as we don't listen in.

We remain in LONG SHOT of the POLICE as they continue in

heated conversation.

RAMEY:

(to Helfand)

Okay, we've got to know who he's

talking to and their current

location.

HELFAND:

That I can handle. As long as they

keep the circuit open.

RAMEY:

I need the number and an address to

go with it.

Helfand rushes off. At the corner, we can glimpse him

entering a phone company utility truck parked on Forty-Fifth

Street.

RACK FOCUS BACK TO PHONE BOOTH

Stu remains tight lipped and silent, refusing to give his

tormentor the conversation he so craves.

VOICE:

Stuart, my friend. Do you want to

see how close I can come without

actually hitting you?

Stu resists pleading because he knows his silence is more

powerful.

There's no glass in the left side of the booth since the late

Leon smashed it all out.

Nothing to shatter when the sniper squeezes off his shot.

VOICE:

May I call attention to the yellow

pages?

The frayed yellow phonebook dangling from a chain under the

telephone shudders under the impact of a direct hit.

There's been no sound of a gunshot, but the damage is there

to behold.

Stu reaches for the phonebook.

There's a bullet hole straight through it. Pieces of the .30

calibre slug have shattered into many tiny fragments and are

imbedded between the pages, half-way through the thick

volume.

Stu pries pieces out of the pages of the directory. He looks

at them in the palm of his hand.

VOICE:

Hollow points are designed to break

up on impact. It would've behaved

differently if it had pierced your

soft flesh. The pieces would've

bounced around looking for a way

out. That's where the real damage

occurs -- finding an exit --

deflecting off all that bone...

Stu wants to shout "STOP," but restrains himself. Not

talking gives him some degree of power.

VOICE:

Still the silent treatment? My

father used to dish that out when

he chose to punish me. Not a word

spoken -- one time for over a

month. I'd try and goad him to

acknowledge I existed, but he

stared right through me. You're

bringing back unhappy childhood,

Stu. That's not wise.

Stu still declines to answer. His silence seems his only

weapon. He tosses the bullet fragments out of the booth onto

the pavement.

VOICE:

Since you're ignoring me, I'll

focus on someone else.

(a beat)

There she is -- nice and sharp. I

can see the two little punctures in

each earlobe and my God, what kind

of a girl would have her nostril

pierced?

Stu realizes the sniper now has Kelly in his sights.

STU:

No!

VOICE:

What was that? Louder, Stu. We

must have a bad connection.

STU:

Leave her out of it.

VOICE:

I didn't expect her to show up

here. But since she has -- I'll

improvise.

STU:

Don't. Please don't. I'm sorry.

I'm talking to you again. I'll

talk all you want!

VOICE:

It's a bad dye job. The black

roots are growing in and it makes

her look cheap.

STU:

I've screwed up her life enough

already. Please don't hurt her.

VOICE:

I don't necessarily have to kill

her. I could be persuaded to

settle for a reasonable mutilation.

Which part of her displeases you

most? If she turns a bit more in

profile, I'm accurate enough to

remove the tip of her unpleasantly

protruding nose. It's just

cartilage. Any decent cosmetic

surgeon will have her looking

better than ever.

STU'S POV - FOCUS SHIFTS TO KELLY

in the crowd. Distant yet distinct amongst the curious

onlookers.

JUMP CUT:

CLOSER ON KELLY -- OBLIVIOUS TO HER DANGER.

AS SEEN THROUGH CROSS HAIRS OF TELESCOPIC SIGHT

following her as she forces her way through the crowd toward

the police officers.

Her face virtually fills the screen.

PRODUCTION NOTE:
The only time we deviate from Stu and his

POV is when we see the sniper's own POV through his

telescopic sight.

VOICE:

You can see her talking to the

police now. She's identifying

herself as your wife. They're very

interested in who you are. They're

taking her over to see the officer

in charge. What was his name?

SNIPER'S POV

Through the cross hairs of the sniperscope, we can see Kelly

conversing with Captain Ramey. She's in a state of complete

agitation.

ANGLE ON STU:

half leaning out of the booth, staring at his wife and the

cops in the distance.

RACK FOCUS TO THEM --

and suddenly we can hear them clearly in spite of the

distance.

KELLY:

What do you mean psychiatrist? He

doesn't see any psychiatrist.

RAMEY:

Then who'd your husband be talking

to?

KELLY:

There was some guy that called the

house this morning and said weird

stuff to me.

RAMEY:

Stu seems to be checking things out

with this person.

KELLY:

He hasn't got many friends -- I can

tell you that.

RAMEY:

Remain here, please. We may need

you later.

KELLY:

You won't hurt him?

RAMEY:

We'll do our best not to.

Kelly is left alone as the Captain returns to their command

center.

Kelly is once again a solitary target. She could be picked

off without attracting undue attention.

VOICE:

She won't even feel it when it

happens.

BACK TO PHONE BOOTH

STU:

Take me instead.

VOICE:

Don't distract me. Now's the time

to be absolutely still. I have to

hold my breath as I squeeze

gently --

STU:

No! I'm hanging up. That's it.

Stu hangs up the receiver. He disconnects.

RACK FOCUS TO LONG SHOT --

The police as they react. We see a flurry of activity across

the street. Voices become clear as focus shifts.

RAMEY:

Sh*t. He hung up.

SERGEANT:

Maybe they already traced it.

Anyhow, it doesn't matter. Looks

like he's coming out.

RACK FOCUS BACK TO STU --

slowly stepping out of the booth. His hands are raised.

STU:

(shouts)

I've giving myself up. Take me!

SWAT OFFICER:

(distant)

First the gun. We want to see you

toss away your weapon!

STU:

Sh*t. I can't.

SWAT OFFICER:

(distant)

Freeze where you are! Turn around

and keep those hands clasped.

(signals the others)

Take him.

The SWAT OFFICERS in protective gear now step out of cover

and fan out as they approach the booth.

TIGHTER ON STU:

He's just outside the booth -- expecting to feel the sniper's

bullet go through him at any moment.

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