The Ninth Gate Page #12

CORSO:
So Andrew Telfer never took part?

BARONESS KESSLER: Never. He knew nothing of these activities

until that creature Liana de Saint-Damien married him for money.

She used his dollars to buy the book and renovate her chateau. An

old and aristocratic family, the Saint-Damiens, but penniless.

They have dabbled in witchcraft for hundreds of years.

CORSO:
Telfer hanged himself last week.

A brief silence. She looks stunned for a moment.

BARONESS KESSLER: I see. And Fargas?

CORSO looks at her impassively.

CORSO:
He was alive the last time we spoke.

BARONESS KESSLER: When was that?

CORSO Two days ago.

BARONESS KESSLER digests this, looks at him keenly.

BARONESS KESSLER: Who exactly are you working for, Mr. Corso?

CORSO:
My client's name is irrelevant, Baroness. I'm simply

trying to authenticate his copy - the one Telfer sold him before

he died.

BARONESS KESSLER (catches on): How stupid of me! I should have

guessed!

Angry now, she swings her wheelchair around to face him full on.

BARONESS KESSLER (cont.): You've outstayed your welcome, Mr.

Corso.

CORSO:
I was hoping to examine your copy in detail.

BARONESS KESSLER: Certainly not. Tell your client, who can only

be Boris Balkan, to come and examine it himself - if he dares.

Tell him not to send any more wolves in sheeps' clothing. And

now, kindly leave.

Sternly, she points to the door with her stump. Her wheelchair

hums as she shepherds CORSO out through the office. He opens the

door to the corridor.

BARONESS KESSLER (cont.) You don't know what you're getting

yourself into, Mr. Corso. Get out before it's too late.

CORSO:
I'm afraid it already is, Baroness.

BARONESS KESSLER: Some books are dangerous, and this is one.

CORSO (smiles wryly): So people keep telling me. Thanks s for

your time.

BARONESS KESSLER watches him exit. He's hardly out the door when

she picks up the phone.

61. KESSLER BUILDING: LOBBY INT/EVENING

CORSO walks back along the corridor. The SECRETARY, who has been

peeling an orange, unsuccessfully hides it below desk level and

gives him a curt nod as he passes.

62. KESSLER BUILDING, RIVERSIDE STREET EXT/EVENING

CORSO emerges from the building. As he does so he catches sight

of the MUSTACHE leaning against the parapet of the riverside

promenade across the way.

The MUSTACHE stiffens and straightens up. CORSO, with one eye on

him, starts walking. The MUSTACHE starts walking too, keeps level

with him on the other side of the street.

CORSO comes to a cafe. For want of a better idea, he goes inside.

63. CAFE/RIVERSIDE STREET INT/EXT/EVENING

CORSO sits down at a table, orders a drink. Looking out the caf&

window, he sees the MUSTACHE leaning against the parapet in his

former pose, watching.

The MUSTACHE lights a small cigar without taking his eyes off

CORSO.

64. CAFE/RIVERSIDE STREET INT/EXT/NIGHT

CORSO is still sitting at his table, which now has several checks

on it. The lights come on, blotting out his view of the street

through the window. All he can now see is a reflection of the

c'fe's interior, including his own seated figure. He drums on the

table irresolutely, glances at his watch, deliberates.

He can't postpone the moment of decision any longer. He adds up

his checks and puts some money on the table. Then, settling his

bag on his shoulder, he makes for the door. He peers across the

street, sees no sign of the Mustache, and exits.

65. RIVERSIDE STREET, SEINE QUAYSIDE EXT/NIGHT

CORSO emerges from the cafe. Still no sign of the Mustache. He

sets of falong the sidewalk, glancing across the street as he

does so. Then, over his shoulder, he catches sight of a car with

dipped headlights - a dark-colored sedan - crawling along the

curb some twenty yards behind him.

On impulse, he darts across the street to the riverside promenade

and dashes down the flight of steps that leads to the quay.

The car's headlights blaze up. it accelerates, tires squealing,

and swerves across the one-way street in pursuit.

66. SEINE QUAYSIDE, PROMENADE EXT/NIGHT

CORSO races down the steps, hears the car skid to a halt, and

sprints off along the quay with his overcoat flapping and the

shoulder bag bumping against his flank. it's misty down on the

quayside, and the streetlights cast a yellowish glow that hinders

visibility rather than helps it.

A couple of hundred yards along the quay he runs out of steam and

slows, turns to look: no sign of the Mustache, no sound of

pursuing footsteps. Relieved but still wary, he leans against the

embankment wall to catch his breath and light a cigarette. Then,

with a final backward look, he walks on to the next flight of

steps.

He's halfway up them when the MUSTACHE, a tall, menacing figure,

appears at the top. He turns to flee, but the MUSTACHE is too

quick for him. He darts down the steps and punches his retreating

figure behind the ear. CORSO misses the last couple of steps and

lands face down on the quayside.

The MUSTACHE is on him in a flash. He bends down and yanks the

strap of the bag off his shoulder. CORSO resists, hugs the bag

protectively, gets kicked in the stomach, doubles up and hangs on

for dear life.

As he lies there with the MUSTACHE kicking him repeatedly and

tugging at the strap, he sees, silhouetted against the yellowish,

misty glow of the nearest streetlight, a ghostly figure flying

down the steps:
It's THE GIRL, with her duffel coat streaming out

behind her like Superman's cape.

The MUSTACHE has finally gotten the bag away from CORSO. Just as

he straightens up and turns to go, THE GIRL performs a flying

leap and kicks him in the solar plexus. He grunts and goes

sprawling on his back, dropping the bag.

THE GIRL is stooping to retrieve the bag when the MUSTACHE

scrambles to his feet and lunges at her. He throws a punch at her

head. Although she neutralizes most of its force by riding it, he

catches her a glancing blow on the nose.

THE GIRL reacts like lightning, kicks him in the balls. He yelps

and goes into a crouch. Then, with a spin kick, she floors him

once more. He lies there, spitting blood and glaring up at her.

She seems to have knocked the fight out of him at last.

With one wary eye on the MUSTACHE, THE GIRL picks up the shoulder

bag and turns to CORSO, who's struggling to his feet.

Beyond her, he sees the MUSTACHE get up and make for the steps.

CORSO:
Hey, he's getting away!

THE GIRL merely turns to look. CORSO sets off after the MUSTACHE,

who has already started up the steps, and just manages to grab

one of his legs. The MUSTACHE kicks @ self free and continues up

the steps with CORSO clumsily following a few feet behind.

Waiting at the top of the steps, engine idling and passenger door

open, is the dark sedan, a Mercedes. CORSO reaches street level

in time to catch a glimpse of the glamorous blonde behind the

wheel:
it's LIANA TELFER. The MUSTACHE jumps in and slams the

door. The car burns rubber as it accelerates away.

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