Playback Page #8

CAMERA PANS BRANDON AND BETTY OVER TOWARDS THE BAR,

DISCOVERING Mitchell leaning against it, staring morosely

into a drink. He drains the last of it.

MITCHELL:

(to bartender in a

thick voice)

Another.

BARTENDER takes a glass. Brandon and Betty come up to the

bar. Mitchell does not at first look up.

BRANDON:

(to bartender)

This lady would like a dry Martini.

So would I.

BARTENDER:

Very good, sir.

He turns away. Mitchell looks up, sees Betty, reacts.

MITCHELL:

Well well. Baby wouldn't come with

me. Where did you pick her up?

Brandon glances from Betty to Mitchell puzzled, shrugs.

BRANDON:

Hello, Mitchell. Having fun?

MITCHELL:

The liquors lovely. The rest of

the party you can have.

He moves towards Betty, puts an arm around her. Betty rises

tries to pull away.

MITCHELL:

What's the matter, baby. Don't you

like me anymore?

BRANDON:

(to Mitchell)

Lay off, can't you?

MITCHELL:

Lay off what? This is my new girl

friend. Met her on the train.

She's very fond of me. Love at

first sight. Wasn't it, baby?

Brandon reacts. There is a certain contempt in his look at

Betty now. Bartender serves drinks impassively. Mitchell

grabs his, gulps half of it down. Betty quietly releases

herself and moves away from him.

BRANDON:

And I'd begun to think this was my

lucky day.

A liveried HOTEL SERVANT COMES INTO SHOT.

SERVANT:

(to Brandon)

You're wanted on the telephone,

Mr. Brandon. Mrs. West.

As the Servant says "Brandon", Betty reacts.

BRANDON:

(to servant)

Thanks.

(to Betty with brutal

sarcasm)

If you are a friend of Larry

Mitchell's I'm sure I leave you in

good hands.

He goes out of SHOT.

She looks after him unhappily.

CAMERA PANS BRANDON across his living room to an inner

door. He starts through.

INT. ROYAL HOTEL - PENTHOUSE - BEDROOM -- NIGHT

Telephone on table, receiver down as Brandon enters, close

door against the noise.

BRANDON:

(into phone)

Hello Margo. Aren't you coming up?

(a beat)

Mitchell? Oh yes, he's here.

(he smiles a little

grimly)

He came up alone, but it seems he

has a new girl friend with him

now.

(a beat)

Don't be theatrical, Margo. What

do you care about Mitchell? Come

on up and have a drink.

INT. ROYAL HOTEL - MARGO'S LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT

Margo on the phone.

MARGO:

(in a flat voice)

I haven't any intensions of being

theatrical. Of course I'll come

up. Goodbye.

She hangs up, stand for a moment, staring at nothing, then

she turns, picks her wrap out of the chair, puts it on,

crosses to the desk for her handbag. She opens the bag,

pauses, then in SLOW MOTION, pulls open the drawer of the

desk.

CAMERA IN CLOSE, studies her face as she looks down into

the drawer of the desk, which we do not see. But we already

know there is a gun there. Her body is quite motionless,

her expression frozen. When she moves we do not see whether

she takes the gun out of the drawer or not. We HEAR the

SNAP of her bag shutting. The she turns away, starts across

the room to leave.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. ROYAL HOTEL - ELEVATOR IN MOTION UP -- NIGHT

A quiet, gentlemanly-looking MAN is leaning against the

back wall of the elevator, wearing a trench coat and a

soft hat. He is a homicide dick named KILLAINE, but you'd

never think that to look at him. Elevator stops, doors

open, and Margo enters.

ELEVATOR BOY:

(very polite)

Did you have a nice day, Mrs.

West?

MARGO:

I had a rotten day, if its any of

your business.

ELEVATOR BOY:

I'm terribly sorry, Mrs. West.

MARGO:

Don't let it break you up.

ELEVATOR BOY:

Oh, I wouldn't do that, Mrs. West.

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