Red Riding Page #11

BJ clutches the bag tight... Eddie takes a breath - moves *

close. Anything for a story. *

EDDIE *

You liked Barry, didn’t you? *

BJ *

Yeah, I did. He was kind... He *

liked you... *

EDDIE *

Yeah? *

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59

BJ *

Said he wanted to help you... *

EDDIE *

Did you see him that night, BJ? *

BJ nods. He reluctantly offers Eddie the stuffed bag. *

BJ *

Said to give it to you in case *

anything happened to him... It’s *

his Life’s Work, you know. It *

really is... *

Eddie grabs BJ by his jaw - shoves him back onto the bed. *

EDDIE *

And why the f*** did he think *

something was going to happen to *

him?! *

BJ *

It’s obvious, isn’t it! *

EDDIE *

Why is it obvious?! *

BJ *

He had too much on too many people! *

You’re hurting me! *

Eddie slips and the two of them comically fall to the ground. *

Eddie on top of BJ. *

BJ *

This is nice. *

Eddie stands quickly. Grabs the carrier bag. *

EDDIE *

You don’t know sh*t. *

BJ *

Believe what you want. *

Eddie stops. Turns back. All anger gone. *

EDDIE *

BJ? Do you think Barry was *

murdered? *

Tears fall from BJ’s eyes. *

BJ *

Listen to me, BJ loved Barry. *

Really loved him! *

(MORE)

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BJ (cont'd)

But he was too f***ing scared to go *

to his funeral! I don’t know who *

did Barry. I don’t want to know... *

92 OMITTED 92 *

93 OMITTED 93 *

94 OMITTED 94 *

95 INT. REDMOOR CAFE AND MOTEL, ROOM 27 - NIGHT 95 *

Eddie empties out Barry’s folders onto the bed. On one folder

is a handwritten note: “All great buildings resemble crimes”.

Inside there’s a magazine spread: The architectural community

acclaim “Shangrila”. The interior is lavish.

Other photos. JOHN DAWSON, architect, builder and

businessman. His trophy wife, MARJORIE.

Eddie empties out another envelope: Glossy pamphlets herald

A Dawson UK Development in Castleford, Rochdale, Morley.

Homes we recognise. Also council memos, builders’ merchants

orders for materials, copies of building contracts.

A name leaps out from the documents: DETECTIVE CHIEF

SUPERINTENDENT BILL MOLLOY. Photographs of Dawson with

Molloy. Dawson with Molloy and other high ranking police.

Restaurants, parties, clandestine meetings...

A fog of smoke fills the tiny room. The wall is a mass of

clippings and scribblings. A map of Yorkshire is marked with

red crosses. A labyrinth. A web of intrigue...

96 OMITTED 96

97 OMITTED 97

98 OMITTED 98

99 INT. WAKEFIELD MAGISTRATES COURT, LOBBY - DAY 99 *

Eddie and Greaves fall into the marble and oak Magistrates *

Court. The baying CROWD outside: *

CROWD O/S *

Child Killer! Hang the bastard! *

Myshkin is a coward! String the *

bastard up! *

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61

GEORGE GREAVES:

It’s f***ing mental out there!

*

*

POLICE and PRESS everywhere. They flash their press cards.

Greaves briefs Eddie as they go:

*

*

GEORGE GREAVES:

Michael John Myshkin. Works for aphoto lab. Dad’s a Polack. Hardlyspeaks a word of English.

*

*

*

*

EDDIE:

That’s lucky.

*

*

100 INT. WAKEFIELD MAGISTRATES COURT - DAY 100 *

Stained glass images of Meek and Mild Jesus in a landscape ofsatanic mills and hills. The sound of the angry crowd fromoutside.

CROWD O/SChild Killer! String the bastardup!

Beneath the window: Michael Myshkin into the dock. The same

big simple man Eddie saw at the Fitzwilliam roadside. Flanked

by PLAIN CLOTHES DETECTIVES.

*

*

COURT CLERK O/SAre you Michael John Myshkin of 66Newstead View, Fitzwilliam?

Myshkin looks for guidance from the detectives escort.

MYSHKIN:

(a whisper)

Yes.

COURT CLERK O/SYou are accused that on or between

the thirty first of August andfirst of September you did murderClare Kemplay against the peace ofOur Sovereign Lady the Queen.

Further, you are charged that atWakefield on the 13th of Septemberyou did drive without due care andattention.

Myshkin sighs and looks glumly at the floor like a badschoolboy.

Eddie and Greaves at the back of the court. Eddie, outraged. *

EDDIE:

They’re having us on, aren’t they.

*

*

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62

GEORGE GREAVES *

Looks the part, doesn’t he? *

EDDIE *

Oh, aye. He’ll do nicely. *

COURT CLERK O/S *

Mr. Myshkin, The West Yorkshire

Metropolitan Police request that

you be held in custody for a

further eight days. Do you have any

objection?

MYSHKIN:

No...

COURT CLERK O/S

Do you wish reporting restrictions

be lifted?

Myshkin meets the eyes of the nearest detective. A slight

shake of his head.

MYSHKIN *

No. *

COURT CLERK O/S *

Michael John Myshkin, you will be *

remanded in custody for eight days. *

Reporting restrictions remain. *

Myshkin raises his big paw of a hand like he’s in school. *

MYSHKIN *

Please? It wasn’t me. It was the *

wolf... Under those beautiful *

carpets... *

The detective pulls Myshkin away down the stairs. Myshkin *

waves bye-bye as he descends. Eddie is in disbelief. *

EDDIE *

What did he say? The wolf? *

GEORGE GREAVES *

Something about carpets. Bollocks. *

101 INT. YORKSHIRE POST, OPEN PLAN OFFICE - DAY 101 *

Eddie comes through the office like the Avenging Angel.

102 INT. YORKSHIRE POST, OUTSIDE HADLEY’S OFFICE - DAY 102

Eddie - up and past Steph.

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STEPH:

You can’t go in there!

103 INT. YORKSHIRE POST, HADLEY’S OFFICE - DAY 103

Eddie into Hadley’s office. Jack Whitehead’s got there first.

EDDIE:

It’s a bloody farce! Myshkin didn’tdo it!

HADLEY:

He confessed.

EDDIE:

It’s bullshit. They’ve got nothing.

JACK:

Nefarious deeds carried out in what

he calls his “Underground Kingdom”.

HADLEY:

What on earth happened to yourhand?

JACK:

Hope it won’t cramp his style.

*

*

EDDIE:

F*** off. This is the work of yourfriends at the West Yorkshire

F***ing Police.

*

HADLEY:

Language, Edward.

EDDIE:

...On John Dawson’s orders.

HADLEY:

What is he on about?

JACK:

They found all kinds of things inMyshkin’s room, Scoop. Photos oflittle girls - boxes of them...

EDDIE:

He works in a photo lab...

JACK:

He’s coughing for the lot - ClareKemplay, Jeanette Garland and theRidyard girl - right back to ‘69.

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64

EDDIE:

He’s twenty-two. That would make

him sixteen when Susan Ridyard went

missing!

JACK:

So?

EDDIE:

So, f*** you, Jack.

HADLEY:

Would you please watch your

language in my office!

JACK:

It feels wrong, doesn’t it? All

that slog, all those hunches.

(softening)

You just don’t want it to be him,

Scoop... I was the same once...

EDDIE:

You’re in their pockets.

JACK:

What are you talking about?

EDDIE:

The Police going about their

business, supported by the good old

Yorkshire Post!

JACK:

The truth is the truth, Scoop.

Bitter pill. You’ll get used to it

one day.

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