Suspect Zero Page #6

FRAN:

Fine. I'll handle them from now on.

He doesn't argue. They come to a stop at that Bonneville,

stripped down to its primer. Time to work...

Two agents, all instinct. We see them study things, details,

their minds always churning... Mackelway pulls out his Minox,

snaps off a few more shots. Then:

MACKELWAY:

Trunk's ajar.

She turns. Sure enough, the Bonneville's trunk is ajar.

Mackelway approaches, cautiously.

He doesn't have gloves on him, so he uses his jacket pocket to

protect against prints. He opens the trunk.

First thing he sees is that SYMBOL again: a circle-with-a-

slash-through-it... staring right at him.

But this time, it's been carved into somebody's back.

Mackelway stares. So does Fran. Before them lies a body,

stripped to the waist: a chunky middle-aged MAN. Dead.

Mackelway sighs. Things just got tougher...

CUT TO:

22 INT. ARCHER COUNTY MORGUE - DAY 22

Harold Speck lies on a table. A BESPECTACLED CORONER examines

him. Victim #2, BARNEY FULCHER, lies on another, his ample

frame yet to be examined.

The lights are out, but that Coroner wears a FLUORESCENT HALO,

with a MICROPHONE pinned to his gown. He speaks into it with a

quiet monotone:
anatomical terms, etc.

Mackelway and Fran are here... watching. Mackelway is

particularly focused on Fulcher's face. His EYELIDS, we now

see, have also been torn off. Hmmmm...

FRAN:

Why eyelids?

MACKELWAY:

Huh?

FRAN:

No other signs of torture here. Why take

somebody's eyelids off?

MACKELWAY:

So they can't blink.

She sighs, aloud: "I know that already, A**hole." Coroner

keeps his head down, speaking into that microphone.

MACKELWAY (CONT'D)

It's a metaphor - to make certain the

victim sees... or to make certain that we

see something.

(she's silent)

Or maybe it's just a f***-you.

Coroner continues his monotone narration... then crosses to

the sink.

That puts him out of earshot. So:

MACKELWAY (CONT'D)

(to Fran, quietly)

I'm sorry about Don.

FRAN:

(thrown)

Huh?

MACKELWAY:

You're not wearing your ring anymore.

That was an attempt at kindness. She knows that. Still, she

eyes her left hand, self-consciously, while Mackelway loses

himself in those lidless eyes of Fulcher's...

Then there's a KNOCK AT THE GLASS WINDOW BEHIND THEM.

They turn. Charlton stands on the other side of a GLASS

WINDOW, in a VIEWING ROOM adjacent to this Morgue. He presses

a piece of paper up against the glass.

On it, in typed bold letters at the top, we read: "MATCHES

ONE OF ONE." Below that we see that Circle-with-the-slash-

through-it.

This is a FAX, which Charlton's just received. He points

further down on the fax at what look like little squiggles at

first, until we move in to discover it is a hand drawn street

map.

The ink bleeds a bit due to a poor fax transmission. Those

scrawled lines take us to "The Hope House," in Oklahoma City.

At the bottom a scribbled name, "David Dyson," and a contact

number.

Moving closer to the glass, Mackelway nods. He just got a

break...

CUT TO:

23 INT. GRAMMAR-SCHOOL AUDITORIUM - BOULDER, CO. - DAY 23

A CHOIR of FIRST AND SECOND GRADERS stands before a school

assembly. The rest of Boulder Elementary's student body fills

the seats in here, along with FACULTY MEMBERS.

Everybody's weeping. A framed picture of Barney Fulcher sits

on a stand, with candles around it:

SINGING FIRST AND SECOND GRADERS

A-may-zing Grace, How sweet the sound--

In the back, some of the TOWNSFOLK have gathered for this

assembly, touched. O'Ryan stands among them. No expression on

his face at all...

CUT TO:

24 EXT. "HOPE HOUSE" - OKLAHOMA CITY - NIGHT 24

A three-story Victorian residence in decay, next door to a

CHURCH/SOUP KITCHEN in the middle of Oklahoma City's Skid Row.

Rain falls. The street is still.

Mackelway approaches this halfway-house. A few lights shine

within, and the blue glow of a tv. Upstairs can be heard the

strident, off-key voice of somebody singing.

25 EXT./INT. HOPE HOUSE - DOORWAY - CONTINUING 25

The front door is open. Through a SCREEN DOOR, Mackelway can

see an old-fashioned "foyer." He knocks. Waits.

Two sounds dominate: the buzz from that tv, and the strident

singing, which we realize is an a capela version of "La Vida

Loca" audible through an open bedroom window.

But no one's coming to answer the door, and it's wide open

anyway... So Mackelway enters.

MACKELWAY:

Hello?

26 INT. HOPE HOUSE - ENTRY - CONTINUING 26

TV room is to his left. There, a single 35 year-old DRUNK/

TRANSIENT (we'll call him "PIPER") sits, watching "Behind the

Music" on VH1. Tonight's subject? Leif Garret...

Piper doesn't look up, or acknowledge Mackelway at all. Rather

he INCREASES THE TV VOLUME to drown out the singing upstairs,

which seems to be intentionally off-key.

Torn couches, stained carpet, cracked window. Posters and

fliers on the walls. 10 BEDROOMS upstairs.

DYSON (O.S.)

Agent Mackelway?

Mackelway turns. Descending a creaking stairway is DAVID

DYSON:
50, lean, with a friendly smile.

CUT TO:

27 INT. HOPE HOUSE - BASEMENT - MOMENTS LATER 27

We are staring at a BASEMENT WALL that has been covered, floor

to ceiling, with 1,000 identical renderings of that same

symbol:
the CIRCLE-WITH-A-SLASH-THROUGH-IT.

1,000 of them, in bright red paint, against pitch black

enamel. Only a machine could have achieved this kind of

repetition. Or a maniac.

This basement is leaky, drafty, poorly lit. But it's also

quiet:
the sound of that awful singing upstairs has been MUTED

by the basement door and the rain itself.

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