SHIVERS Page #3

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Tudor winces as though stuck with a pin. Blinking rapidly,

he edges around the room until his angle of vision is such

that he can see the head of the corpse on the table. It is

definitely Annabelle, eyes still staring, surgical clip still

attached to her lips, purple bruises on her neck.

Tudor turns, his body contracting around the pit of his

stomach. After a moment he manages to straighten up and

stagger from the apartment, having at least enough presence

of mind to take his attaché case, which he left by the door,

and to close the door behind him.

INT. ANNABELLE'S APARTMENT -- AFTERNOON

Dr. Roger St. Luc, tall, thin, dark, not bad-looking, stands

over the table staring at the corpse of Annabelle. As he

watches, two ambulance men throw a sheet over her and begin

to lift her down on to a stretcher on the floor. The voice

of the superintendent of the building drifts over to him

from the other end of the apartment.

SUPER (V.O.)

Like I said to the police officer,

he paid the rent, Dr. Hobbes did.

And he came around and chatted a lot

with everyone here, the staff, I

mean. Nice guy. Not a high and mighty

type. But it was her name on the

residency list and the buzzer board:

Annabelle... what was it again?...

Annabelle Horsefield. She never

complained about anything, not to

me, anyway.

The super, a small, unshaven, harassed little man with a lot

of energy, is talking to a large beefy detective who writes

everything down in a notebook.

DETECTIVE:

(pointing to

Annabelle's corpse,

which is just being

carried out the door)

And that was her. Annabelle Horse...

field.

SUPER:

Far as I know, yeah, that was her.

The detective now turns to St. Luc, who is crouched on the

floor examining the chalk outline around where Hobbes's body

had lain.

DETECTIVE:

Is that the man who called you up

here?

SUPER:

Yeah, that's Dr. St. Luc. He's the

head of our little medical clinic

here.

DETECTIVE:

Medical clinic?

SUPER:

Yeah. This is an island, you know?

Takes too long to get into the city.

We gotta have everything right here

or somebody complains.

DETECTIVE:

Well, let's go talk to your doctor.

The detective walks over to St. Luc and the super follows.

St. Luc rises to meet him. He is wearing very informal summer

clothes, a bit rumpled.

DETECTIVE:

Dr. St. Luc? Detective-Sergeant

Heller. I'd like to ask you a few

questions.

ST. LUC

(obviously a bit dazed

by what he has been

seeing)

Sure.

DETECTIVE:

You're the one who found the bodies?

ST. LUC

Yes.

DETECTIVE:

Did you touch anything? Move anything

before we got here?

ST. LUC

No, nothing.

DETECTIVE:

You knew these people?

ST. LUC

I knew the man, Emil Hobbes, a doctor

and a professor at university. I saw

the girl around the building but I

didn't know her. She never came to

the clinic.

DETECTIVE:

So you just came up to visit this

Hobbes and you found them like that?

ST. LUC

Oh, no. I haven't seen Dr. Hobbes

since I was in medical school. He

taught me... he was my prof in urology

and... I think he conducted a few

seminars in psychopharmacology. That

was it. I had no idea he'd ever set

foot in Starliner Towers until today.

DETECTIVE:

I see. Then what brought you up here?

St. Luc begins to pace about as he talks.

ST. LUC

It was very strange. He called me at

six this morning. Hobbes called me.

I thought I was dreaming. I haven't

heard that voice for so long. He

told me who it was, then he said

something like, 'Meet me at apartment

1208 at noon. I want you to go out

for lunch with me. It's time you

furthered your education.' Then he

laughed and hung up. I went back to

sleep. He called me again at eight

to remind me to come.

DETECTIVE:

How did he sound this time? Was he

nervous? Depressed?

ST. LUC

He sounded fine.

The telephone rings. The super, who has been fiddling with a

window with a cracked pane of glass, grabs the phone

instinctively without looking at the detective, who probably

would have answered it himself.

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