The Apartment Page #7

BUD:

(thermometer in mouth)

Wait.

He turns away from the messenger, unties the string of the

envelope, takes his key out, puts it in a coat pocket. From

a trouser pocket, he extracts Dobisch's key to the executive

washroom, slips it discreetly into the envelope, reties it,

hands it to the messenger.

BUD:

(thermometer in mouth)

To Mr. Dobisch.

Puzzled by the whole procedure, the messenger leaves. Bud

now removes the thermometer from his mouth, reads it. It's

worse than he thought. He puts the thermometer back in the

case, clips it to his pocket, takes his desk calendar out of

a drawer, turns a leaf. Under the date WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 4

there is an entry in his handwriting -- MR. VANDERHOF. Bud

consults the telephone directory again, picks up the phone,

dials.

INT. VANDERHOF'S OFFICE - DAY

This is another glass-enclosed cubicle on another floor. MR.

VANDERHOF, a Junior Chamber of Commerce type, is dictating

to an elderly secretary who sits across the desk from him.

VANDERHOF:

Dear Mr. MacIntosh --

(phone rings and he

picks it up)

Vanderhof, Public Relations. Oh,

yes, Baxter. Just a minute.

(to secretary)

All right, Miss Finch -- type up

what we got so far.

(he waits till she is

out of the office;

then, into phone)

Now what is it, Baxter?

BUD - ON PHONE

BUD:

Look, Mr. Vanderhof -- I've got you

down here for tonight -- but I'm

going to be using the place

myself -- so I'll have to cancel.

VANDERHOF - ON PHONE

VANDERHOF:

Cancel? But it's her birthday -- I

already ordered the cake --

BUD - ON PHONE

BUD:

I hate to disappoint you -- I mean,

many happy returns -- but not

tonight --

VANDERHOF - ON PHONE

VANDERHOF:

That's not like you, Baxter. Just

the other day, at the staff meeting,

I was telling Mr. Sheldrake what a

reliable man you were.

BUD - ON PHONE

BUD:

Thank you, Mr. Vanderhof. But I'm

sick -- I have this terrible

cold -- and a fever -- and I got to

go to bed right after work.

VANDERHOF - ON PHONE

VANDERHOF:

Buddy-boy, that's the worst thing

you can do. If you got a cold, you

should go to a Turkish bath --

spend the night there -- sweat it

out --

BUD - ON PHONE

BUD:

Oh, no. I'd get pneumonia -- and if

I got pneumonia, I'd be in bed for

a month -- and if I were in bed for

a month --

VANDERHOF - ON PHONE

VANDERHOF:

Okay, you made your point. We'll

just have to do it next Wednesday --

that's the only night of the week I

can get away.

BUD - ON PHONE

BUD:

Wednesday -- Wednesday --

(leafing through calendar)

I got somebody penciled in -- let

me see what I can do -- I'll get

back to you.

He hangs up, riffles through the directory, finds the

number, and with a furtive look around, dials again.

BUD:

(into phone)

Mr. Eichelberger? Is this Mortgage

and Loan? I'd like to speak to Mr.

Eichelberger. Yes, it is urgent.

INT. EICHELBERGER'S OFFICE - DAY

Also glass-enclosed, but slightly larger than the others. MR.

EICHELBERGER, a solid citizen of about fifty, is displaying

some mortgage graphs to three associates. A fourth one has

answered the phone.

ASSOCIATE:

(holding out phone to Eichelberger)

For you, Mel.

Eichelberger puts the charts down, takes the phone.

EIGHELBERGER:

Eichelberger here -- oh, yes,

Baxter --

(a glance at his

associates; then

continues, as though

it were a business call)

What's your problem? -- Wednesday

is out? -- oh -- that throws a

little monkey wrench into my

agenda -- Thursday? No, I'm all

tied up on Thursday -- let's

schedule that meeting for Friday.

BUD - ON PHONE

BUD:

Friday?

(checks calendar)

Let me see what I can do. I'll get

back to you.

He hangs up, consults the directory, starts to dial a number.

INT. KIRKEBY'S OFFICE - DAY

It's another of those glass-enclosed cubicles, on the

nineteenth floor. Kirkeby is talking into a dictaphone.

KIRKEBY:

Premium-wise and billing-wise, we

are eighteen percent ahead of last

year, October-wise.

The phone has been ringing. Kirkeby switches off the machine,

picks up the phone.

KIRKEBY:

Hello? Yeah, Baxter. What's up?

BUD - ON PHONE

BUD:

Instead of Friday -- could you

possibly switch to Thursday? You'd

be doing me a great favor --

KIRKEBY - ON PHONE

KIRKEBY:

Well -- it's all right with me, Bud.

Let me check. I'll get back to you.

He presses down the button on the cradle, dials Operator.

INT. SWITCHBOARD ROOM

There is a double switchboard in the center, with nine girls

on each side, all busy as beavers. In the foreground we

recognize Sylvia, Kirkeby's date of last night.

SYLVIA:

Consolidated Life -- I'll connect

you -- Consolidated Life --

The girl next to her turns and holds out a line.

SWITCHBOARD GIRL

Sylvia -- it's for you.

Sylvia plugs the call into her own switchboard.

SYLVIA:

Yes? Oh, hello -- sure I got home

all right -- you owe me forty-five

cents.

KIRKEBY - ON PHONE

KIRKEBY:

Okay, okay. Look, Sylvia -- instead

of Friday - could we make it

Thursday night?

SYLVIA - AT SWITCHBOARD

SYLVIA:

Thursday? That's The Untouchables --

with Bob Stack.

KIRKEBY - ON PHONE

KIRKEBY:

Bob WHO? -- all right, so we'll

watch it at the apartment. Big deal.

(he hangs up, dials)

Baxter? It's okay for Thursday.

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