Simone Page #10

MAX:

Is it a jamming device?

MILTON:

(shrugs)

Maybe he's talking to himself.

MAX:

(dismissing the idea)

Taransky isn't that good an actor.

No, they're taking special

precautions. Some kind of new

encryption.

MILTON:

Why?

MAX:

(musing)

Whatever it is, it's dark.

MILTON:

Dark?

MAX:

Yes, very.

They continue listening to the recording.

VIKTOR'S VOICE

"... We'll talk about it at the

beach house this weekend..."

MAX's eyes light up. He gazes to a photo of SIMONE pasted to

the inside of the car.

INT. VIKTOR'S MALIBU HOME - MORNING

VIKTOR and LAINEY make breakfast. Lainey is in her pajamas,

occasionally glancing to a laptop computer as her father

prepares French toast.

VIKTOR:

(glancing to the computer)

Can't you stop that?

LAINEY:

Why?

VIKTOR:

Those things can be dangerous.

Staring at a screen all day -- you

miss what's going on outside in the

real world. You can lose yourself.

You should get out more. How are

you going to meet boys?

LAINEY:

(shrugs coyly, getting up)

I know plenty of boys.

VIKTOR:

Really? Who? Where do you meet

them? In a chat room? How do you

know he's not some middle-aged

freak?

LAINEY:

Dad, I can spot a middle-aged freak

a mile away.

VIKTOR:

Okay. But you have to find a way

to escape that thing.

LAINEY:

I do.

VIKTOR:

How?

LAINEY:

I read.

VIKTOR:

You do? Still? I can't tell you

how happy I am to hear that.

LAINEY:

You were the one who insisted on

it. Reading me Dostoyevsky and

Joyce when I was four.

VIKTOR:

You understood them. That's what

was amazing.

(looking out the window)

It's a nice day. Let's eat

outside.

Lainey grabs the plates and opens the deck door. We hear a

chorus of CLICKS.

LAINEY:

Actually, it may be nicer inside.

Viktor joins her at the doorway.

VIKTOR:

Stay here, I'll deal with this.

Unfazed, Lainey retreats into the house.

EXT. VIKTOR'S MALIBU HOUSE - MORNING

Boats are moored just off the beach packed dangerously full

of telephoto lens-toting PHOTOGRAPHERS. The next door houses

have LENSES protruding through the drapes of the windows.

VIKTOR strides onto the lawn of his property that backs onto

the beach, soaking up the attention -- unable to resist

waving extravagantly.

Suddenly, a PHOTOGRAPHER, losing his balance, drops from a

nearby rooftop. The photographer limps towards the fence.

Viktor calmly follows, retrieving the photographer's camera

and ripping out the film with a flourish -- he is clearly

relishing the attention.

The photographer clambers over the fence where he joins

several dozen other SHUTTER-BUGS and VIDEORAZZI.

PHOTOGRAPHER 1

That wasn't her, Taransky.

ECHO PHOTOGRAPHER

Where is she? You can't hide her

forever.

VIKTOR:

(hurling the camera into

the mob)

You'll never find her. Simone only

appears when I want her to appear.

MAX SAYER from "The NATIONAL ECHO" is at the head of the mob,

accompanied by assistant MILTON.

MAX:

She sounds like a prisoner,

Taransky. Are you holding her

hostage? Are you some kind of

Svengali?

VIKTOR:

(recognizing the reporter)

Who's the hostage, Sayer, her or

you? You look kind of "captive"

yourself. While you're spending

every waking hour obsessing over

Simone, guess what, I guarantee she

doesn't even know you exist. Get

off my property or I'll call the

cops.

MAX:

The cops? The cops read my column

to know who to bust. We're the

only watchdog the public has.

(looking around at the

photographers)

None of this is going away. We'll

be here tomorrow and the day after

that. Until you slip up. And you

will. You are looking at your

shadow.

(getting in his face)

Because all these elaborate

precautions with Simone -- every

instinct in my body tells me, it's

not natural.

VIKTOR:

I'm just trying to help you, Sayer.

I don't want you to be

disappointed. It gets cold out

here at night.

MAX:

Nice try. If we can't get to her

through you, maybe your family will

be more co-operative. I can

guarantee you, Taransky, one way or

another, Miss Simone and I are

going to get acquainted.

VIKTOR:

(turning away)

I'd like to see that, Sayer.

Invite me.

INT. VIKTOR'S CAR - DAY

VIKTOR drives along a twisty mountain road, LAINEY in the

passenger seat. They have become so blase about the

paparazzi, they no longer acknowledge the posse of motorcycle

PHOTOGRAPHERS risking their necks to stay up with the car.

REPORTER (ON RADIO)

-- The rumor is, Simone is holed up

in Taransky's Malibu home -- so far

we haven't seen so much as a

glimpse --

VIKTOR:

(switching off the radio)

Honey, I'm really sorry about all

this. I don't know if it's safe

for you to stay the weekends...

just until things settle down.

LAINEY:

(shrugs)

Okay, Dad.

VIKTOR:

If anyone asks about Simone --

LAINEY:

-- I know, I don't know anything.

VIKTOR:

Exactly.

(slightly irritated by her

lack of interest)

Don't you wonder where I'm really

hiding Simone?

LAINEY:

(looking to him)

I'm sure you'd tell me if you

thought it was important.

Lainey gives her father a smile. Through the car window

behind her, a MOTORCYCLIST appears to lose control and drops

down a bank.

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