The Leopard Man Page #19

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KIKI:

(encouragingly)

We will ��

Jerry takes her arm and they start walking away.

DISSOLVE:

INT. BELMONTE'S BEDROOM - DAY

This is a small, simply furnished bedroom with a day-bed.

Raul Belmonte is sprawled on this couch. His hair is rumpled,

he needs a shave and his shirt is badly wrinkled. His face

and eyes show the effects of constant drinking. A bottle and

glass stand on the floor beside the head of the couch. Jerry

is looking over at a photograph which stands on a small table

in the window �- a photograph of Consuelo Contreras.

RAUL:

A lovely face, a tender smile, soft

beautiful hair -� that's what you

see in the photograph, isn't it?

Raul props himself on one elbow and looks across at the

photograph himself.

RAUL:

(in a hard voice)

A smear of blood, clawed rags in a

huddle on the ground --that's what

I see. A horrid, terrible thing.

JERRY:

(quickly)

I know. I was there.

Raul swings himself into a sitting position on the edge of

the couch. He puts his head into his hands.

RAUL:

But you aren't here when she calls

out at night. Wake up and hear her

- screaming �- "Raul, Raul, get me

out"

Jerry goes over to him and puts his hand on his shoulder.

JERRY:

Easy, boy. I want to talk to you.

Maybe there's something I can do �-

Raul reaches down and gets the bottle and the glass. He

starts automatically to pour a drink for himself �� then

stops and holds out the bottle and glass to Jerry.

HAUL:

Have a drink. That's the best thing

to wipe out nightmares ��

Jerry takes the bottle-and glass and carries them over to the

table. He puts them down and then comes back to Raul, who has

sat watching him stupidly.

JERRY:

No. You've got to kick at

something, fight with something, to

work the nightmares out of your

system. In Consuelo's case, there's

been nothing to fight against -�

just fate and a dumb brute animal.

(pauses to watch Raul)

I've got something to tell you that

will change all that.

Raul looks up at him.

JERRY (CONT'D)

It wasn't an animal.

Raul frowns and moves uneasily, trying to understand through

his alcoholic haze.

JERRY:

It was a man.

The two men stare at each other.

RAUL:

(whispering)

A man -� killed Consuelo?

Jerry nods his head. Raul slowly gets to his feet and stands

eye to eye with Jerry.

RAUL:

Who?

JERRY:

I don't know. But I want your help

to find out.

Raul goes over to the table and picks up the bottle. He pours

some liquor into the glass and takes it off quickly, as if it

were medicine. Then he turns back to Jerry.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INTERSECTION OF THE ALLEY AND THE STREET - DAY

The commemorative procession is forming here. Some of the

participants are hooded, wearing black hoods very much like

these worn by the Ku Klux Klanners. In the doorways and

windows, the townspeople are watching.

Galbraith passes through the crowd. He has a small paper

package in his hand, his pipe in his mouth and is walking

along, obviously on his way to somewhere. Eloise, who is

standing watching the Processionists, blocks his way for a

moment. He tries to pass around her. She sees him and smiles.

ELOISE:

Oh, Mr. Galbraith! I'm so glad

you're here.

GALBRAITH:

(a little puzzled and

trying to pass on)

Good evening.

ELOISE:

(stopping him)

You know all about these things - -

and I've lived here all my life �-

and I still don't know what the

Procession means.

GALBRAITH:

It's to remind people of the great

tragedy that took place here so

that they won't ever forget that a

peaceful village of Indians was

wiped out by the Conquistadores,

back in the 17th Century... A band

of monks buried the dead and prayed

for them and did penance for their

deaths �� that's what this

procession is supposed to be.

ELOISE:

(gushing)

Oh, that's so interesting!

GALBRAITH:

Well, now that you've had your

history lesson, I think I'll get on

to the museum.

He nods and starts off. Eloise turns back to watch the

Processionists.

DISSOLVE IN:

EXT CEMETERY WALL - NIGHT

Galbraith is walking along the quiet, empty street outside

the cemetery wall.

There is a very faint cry from inside the cemetery.

Galbraith slows his stride perceptibly, but does not stop.

GIRL'S VOICE

(o.s., very faint)

Help! Get me out! Help! Help!

Galbraith stops and looks up at the cemetery wall,

CLOSEUP of Galbraith shows fear and puzzlement in his eyes.

Still looking toward the wall, Galbraith walks on.

EXT. CORNER WHERE CLO-CLO WAS KILLED - NIGHT

Galbraith is walking along the brick wall, approaching the

corner. Just before he gets to the corner, a lighted

cigarette spins out and falls to the pavement in front of

him.Galbraith stops as if he had come up against stone.He

stands there, forcing courage to go on. He takes the few

steps to the corner and faces the direction from which the

cigarette was thrown. There is on one in sight anywhere.

Very slowly, Galbraith reaches down and picks up the

cigarette. The unlighted end is dark with lipstick. With an

almost imperceptible shudder, Galbraith lets the cigarette

fall. Walking rigidly, he continues on his way.

INT. MUSEUM - NIGHT

The large room is in shadowy darkness. The heavy front door

swings open. Suddenly the place is brilliantly lighted from

the overhead fixtures. Galbraith takes his hand from the

light-switch just inside the door. He pushes the clear closed

and leans up against it exhaustedly. He is breathing heavily

and his eyes are dull and heavy-lidded with the reaction from

violent fear.

He sighs deeply and then walks slowly and wearily across the

display room to the office alcove. He sits down at his

worktable and starts work on a small model of Indian ruins,

done in colored clays.

Suddenly, far away but clear in the silence, he hears the

sound of castanets �� just three widely spaced clicks. His

hands becomes motionless above the model �-but he does not

look up.

The same sound comes again, repeated twice, the clicks a

little more rapid.

Galbraith gets to his feet and stands staring into the empty,

brilliantly lighted museum room.

The castanets sound again and this time they go into a steady

rhythm, still faint and faraway; a purr of sound. But the

sound increases in volume and intensity every second.

Galbraith listens, his eyes mirroring his growing terror, his

hands pressing down onto the worktable.

The castanets come up to a brain�splitting reverberation of

sound. The tendons in Galbraith's neck stand out �� his

forehead is wet with sweat.

As the tenseness of his body and the madness in his eyes

signal that his control is about to break �� the castanet

furor abruptly ceases.

For another few seconds, Galbraith stands there Then he

lifts his hands from the table and draws in a deep shuddering

breath. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and slowly

wipes his face and his bands.

Re steps out of the alcove and presses a light�switch on the

wall nearby. The overhead lights in the display room go out.

The alcove is new like a little lighted stage at the end of a

dark auditorium. Galbraith steps back into it, takes a book

from the worktable and settles down in an armchair at one end

of the table. He begins to read.

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