The Man Who Wasn't There Page #14

ED (V.O.)

...to Freddy Riedenschneider, who

got into town two days later...

Ed, coming up the sidewalk, looks up at the storefront: a

restaurant with a large window with a plush red drape that

obscures the interior. Gilt lettering on the window spells

out "DaVinci's".

ED (V.O.)

...and told me to meet him at

DaVinci's for lunch.

TRACKING POINT OF VIEW

Inside the restaurant. We are tracking toward a table whose

lone occupant sits with his back to us holding open a menu

as he orders from a facing waitress:

MAN:

...not fried, poached. Three of 'em

for two minutes. A strip steak medium

rare, flapjacks, potatoes, tomato

juice, and plenty of hot coffee.

He flips the menu over.

MAN:

...Do you have prairie oysters?

WAITRESS:

No, sir.

MAN:

Then bring me a fruit cocktail while

I wait.

He looks up at Ed.

MAN:

...You're Ed Crane?

ED:

Yeah--

MAN:

Barber, right? I'm Freddy

Riedenschneider. Hungry? They tell

me the chow's OK here. I made some

inquiries.

ED:

No thanks, I--

The waitress sets a fruit cocktail in front of

Riedenschneider.

RIEDENSCHNEIDER:

Look, I don't wanna waste your time

so I'll eat while we talk. Ya mind?

*You* don't mind. So while I'm in

town I'll be staying at the Hotel

Metropole, the Turandot Suite. Yeah,

it's goofy, the suites're named after

operas; room's OK though, I poked

around. I'm having 'em hold it for

me on account of I'll be back and

forth. In addition to my retainer,

you're paying hotel, living expenses,

secretarial, private eye if we need

to make inquiries, headshrinker should

we go that way. We'll talk about

appeals if, as and when. For right

now, has she confessed?

ED:

No. Of course not. She didn't do it.

RIEDENSCHNEIDER:

Good! That helps. Not that she didn't

do it, that she didn't confess. Of

course, there's ways to deal with a

confession, but that's good!--one

less thing to think about. Now.

Interview. I'm seeing her tomorrow.

You should be there. Three o'clock.

One more thing:
you keep your mouth

shut. I get the lay of the land, I

tell *you* what to say. No talking

out of school. What's out of school?

Everything's out of school. I do the

talking; you keep your trap shut.

I'm an attorney, you're a barber;

you don't know anything. Understood?

ED:

...OK.

RIEDENSCHNEIDER:

Good! Any questions give me a ring--

Turandot suite; if I'm out leave a

message. You sure you don't want

anything? No?

He points a finger at Ed.

RIEDENSCHNEIDER:

...You're OK, pal. You're OK, she's

OK. Everything's gonna be hunky-dory.

The waitress puts down a plate of steak and eggs.

RIEDENSCHNEIDER:

...And the flapjacks, honey.

DRIVING POINT OF VIEW

We are looking at pedestrians on the sidewalk through the

windshield of a moving car.

ED (V.O.)

All going about their business. It

seemed like I knew a secret--a bigger

one even then what had really happened

to Big Dave, something none of them

knew...

On Ed, driving.

ED (V.O.)

...Like I had made it to the outside,

somehow, and they were all still

struggling, way down below.

ED IN BED:

Arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

On the ceiling is the moving shadow of a tree limb.

A distant, muffled knock.

Ed turns his head.

FRONT DOOR:

Ed opens it as he finishes cinching a bathrobe.

The woman waiting on the front porch is dressed in black: a

black dress and a black veiled hat that is too big for her

bird-like frame.

Wind rustles in the trees behind her.

She stares at Ed.

ED:

Ann.

For the first time, we hear her speak, in a low, tremulous

voice:

ANN:

Hello, Ed.

ED:

Ann. Will you come in?

She shakes her head.

ANN:

...No, No, it's very late.

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