The Ninth Gate Page #2

CORSO:
You don't have any.

BERNIE:
I'm still young. Give me time.

CORSO (expels a lungful of smoke, unmoved): Ten.

6. BALKAN BUILDING EXT/DUSK

A taxi pulls up outside an opulent building downtown. CORSO gets

out, dodges a persistent beggar, and enters. The sign above the

entrance reads:
'BALKAN PUBLICATIONS'.

7. BALKAN BUILDING: LOBBY INT/DUSK

CORSO nods to the SECURITY GUARD at the desk and makes hit way

across the lobby to a door at the back. Beside it stands an

easel-mounted announcement: 'Demons and Medieval Literature, by

Boris Balkan, Ph.D.' It's adorned with a medieval engraving

depicting an Inquisition torture scene.

8. BALKAN BUILDING: LECTURE ROOM INT/DUSK

BORIS BALKAN, standing at a state-of-the-art lecturer's desk, is

a bulky, imposing figure of a man around 50 years old. His thick

gray hair is slicked back to reveal a domed forehead. The eyes

beneath it radiate keen intelligence through a pair of heavy

hornrims. He speaks in a deep, slow, almost monotonous voice, but

with great authority.

BALKAN:
Relevant information may be found in Antoine Martin del

Rio's 'Disquisitionum Magicarum', Louvain 1599, and earlier, in

1580, in 'De la d‚monomanle des sorciers' by the Frenchman, Jean

Bodin...

His eyes flicker in the direction of the door as CORSO enters.

CORSO's entrance has also been noted by a GIRL in jeans and white

sneakers:
childlike face, short hair and green, feline eyes.

He sits down in the same row, but on the other side of the aisle,

settles himself in his chair and scans the AUDIENCE, most of whom

are middle-aged and female. He gives the GIRL a cursory glance,

then concentrates on BALKAN.

BALKAN (cont.):
Bodin was probably the first to attempt to

establish a system - if the term system may be applied to the

Middle Ages - for classifying the contemporary perceptions of

evil. In Bodin we find one of the first definitions of the word

'witch'. I quote: (c*cks his head for a better look at the text)

'A witch is a person who, though cognizant of the laws of God,

endeavors to act through the medium of a pact with the Devil...'

As BALKAN's lecture proceeds, CORSO's eyelids begin to droop. We

PAN over the faces of the AUDIENCE (THE GIRL is still covertly

observing CORSO). BALKAN's voice drones on, fades away.

9. BALKAN BUILDING: LECTURE ROOM INT/NIGHT

CLOSE on CORSO fast asleep.

BALKAN (O.S.):
I see you enjoyed my little talk, Mr. Corso.

CORSO gives a start and opens his eyes. He takes a moment or two

to focus on BALKAN, who's standing over him. Peering around

through his steel-rimmed glasses, he sees that the lecture is

over. The last of the AUDIENCE are filing out. We glimpse THE

GIRL making her exit.

CORSO:
Did I snore?

BALKAN:
Nice of you to ask. No, not that I noticed. Shall we go?

He gestures at the door with a cold and impassive air. CORSO gets

to his feet.

10. BALKAN BUILDING: LOBBY INT/NIGHT

BALKAN walks swiftly across the lobby to the elevators with CORSO

at his heels. They leave behind a buzz of conversation from

members of the AUDIENCE who are still discussing the lecture.

BALKAN:
Don't you sleep nights?

CORSO:
Like a baby.

BALKAN:
Strange, I'd have bet a brace of Gutenberg Bibles you

spend half the night with your eyes peeled. You're one of those

lean, hungry, restless types that put the wind up Julius Caesar -

men who'd stab their friends in the back...

They reach the elevator. BALKAN presses a button and turns to

CORSO, who yawns.

BALKAN (cont.) Not, I suspect, that you have many friends, do

you, Mr. Corso? Your kind seldom does.

CORSO (calmly):
Go to hell.

BALKAN is unruffled by CORSO's discourtesy. The elevator doors

open. He stands aside to let CORSO pass, then follows him in.

11. BALKAN BUILDING: ELEVATOR INT/NIGHT

BALKAN punches a code number on the elevator's digital keyboard

With a subdued hiss, the elevator starts to ascend.

BALKAN:
You're right, of course. Your friendships don't concern

me in the least. Our relations have always been strictly

commercial, isn't that so? There's no one more reliable than a

man whose loyalty can be bought for hard cash.

CORSO:
Hey, Balkan, I came here to do some business, not shoot

the breeze. You want to expound your personal philosophy, write

another book.

BALKAN:
You don't like me, do you?

CORSO (shrugs):
I don't have to like you. You're a client, and

you pay well.

The elevator reaches its destination, the doors open.

12. BALKAN BUILDING: COLLECTION INT/NIGHT

The elevator opens straight into a spacious room faced with black

marble. The walls are bare save for a big, back-lighted

photograph of a ruined castle overlooking a desolate valley.

Two huge windows in the right-hand wall extend from floor to

ceiling. Visible outside on the building's floodlit facade,

gargoyles gaze out over the city with their monstrous heads

propped on their claws.

The centre of the room is occupied by a rectangular block of

tinted glass resembling a big black monolith. Vaguely discernible

through the glass are shelves filled with antique books in

exquisite bindings.

BALKAN leads CORSO over to the 'monolith' . He gestures at it

proudly, soliciting admiration.

BALKAN:
Well?

CORSO:
Yup.

BALKAN:
You're privileged, Corso. Very few people have ever set

foot in here. This Is my private collection. Some bibliophiles

specialize in Gothic novels, others in Books of Hours. All my own

rare editions have the same protagonist: the Devil.

CORSO is impressed but does his best not to show it.

CORSO:
May I take a look?

BALKAN:
That's why I brought you here.

He goes over to the 'monolith' and punches a keyboard on a

control panel, gestures to CORSO to come closer.

CORSO puts out his hand. Before he can touch the glass, it glides

aside with a faint hum. He adjusts his glasses and glances at

BALKAN, who looks on calmly. His eyes roam along the spines of

the books. BALKAN comes and stands beside him.

BALKAN (cont.):
Beautiful, aren't they? That soft sheen, that

superb gilding... Not to mention the centuries of wisdom they

contain -- centuries of erudition, of delving Into the secrets of

the Universe and the hearts of men... I know people who would

kill for a collection like this. (CORSO shoots him a quick

glance) The Ars Diavoli! You'll never see as many books on the

subject anywhere else in the world. They're the rarest, the

choicest editions in existence. It has taken me a lifetime to

assemble them. Only the supreme masterpiece was missing. Come...

He has accompanied CORSO on his tour of the collection. They come

to the end of the 'monolith'. Gesturing to CORSO to follow him,

BALKAN goes over to an ultramodern, brushed steel lectern

standing beside one of the huge picture windows.

As he approaches the lectern, CORSO briefly glimpses the sheer

drop beyond the window, the twinkling lights of traffic passing

in the street far below.

Rate this script:4.0 / 1 vote