The Silence of the Lambs Page #6

HER CAR:

an old Pinto, parked nearby. This image begins to BLUR...

CLOSE ON:

her face, fighting tears, as the CAMERA begins to WHIRL AROUND

her, almost dizzily. She is seeing, in her mind's eye -

IN FLASHBACK:

a screen door banging open, on a wooden porch, and a 10-year

old girl - the young Clarice - rushing outside, down the

front steps, and running joyfully across her front yard to -

MOVING ANGLE - THE GIRL'S POV

a car - late 60's vintage - parked in the dirt road. A MAN,

Clarice's father, is just climbing out. He's tall, handsome,

and has a marshal's badge pinned on his dark suit. He grins,

seeing her, and spreads his arms wide as...

THE YOUNG CLARICE

rushes into them, and he sweeps her up in a hug, spinning

her around, the CAMERA SPINNING with them, and capturing

both their laughing faces, before we abruptly return to -

THE ADULT CLARICE

alone in the parking lot, sagging against her car. Her face

is buried in her arms, she shoulders shaking. SOUND UPCUT -

a steady, rapid series of GUNSHOTS, as we

CUT TO:

INT. FBI ACADEMY FIRING RANGE - DAY

Clarice, in a combat stance, and wearing a sound-muffling

headset, is squeezing off ROUND after ROUND at

A MOVING TARGET:

The silhouette of a man, approaching along a track. Her shots,

tightly grouped, are all finding the center chest. The target

stops, quite close to her, still swaying.

Clarice stares at it, deftly working her speedloader. Then

she puts a final, emphatic shot right through THE FIGURE'S

FOREHEAD.

CUT TO:

INT. FBI ACADEMY LIBRARY - NIGHT

CLOSE ON a microfilm monitor - a grainy newsphoto of Dr.

Lecter, scrawling past, with an accompanying story ("New

Horrors in Cannibal Trial"), dated 1980.

Clarice is punching keys on the terminal. Other trainees

study at nearby tables.

She pauses, jotting a note on her pad, as Ardelia comes by,

carrying an armful of books.

ARDELIA:

Phone call, Clarice. It's God.

CLARICE:

Thanks, Ardelia.

MOVING ANGLE:

as Clarice rises, grabbing her notebook, and follows Ardelia

past high metal bookstacks.

ARDELIA:

You missed Fourth Amendment law.

Unlawful seizure, real juicy stuff.

Where were you all afternoon?

CLARICE:

Pleading with a crazy man, with come

all over my face.

Ardelia stares at her, figures it's a put-on, laughs.

ARDELIA:

Damn. Wish I had time for a social

life.

Clarice grins, as Ardelia indicates a phone receiver resting

on the check-out desk, then moves on. Clarice picks it up.

CLARICE:

(on phone)

Mr. Crawford?

CUT TO:

INT. CRAWFORD'S HOUSE - STUDY - NIGHT

Crawford, in a cardigan, sits in a wing chair in the book-

lined study of his suburban home. He turns the pages of

Clarice's memo as they talk. His tone is sharp.

CRAWFORD:

I've read your interim memo on Lecter.

You sure you've left nothing out?

INTERCUTTING:

CLARICE:

It's all there, sir, practically

verbatim.

CRAWFORD:

Every word, Starling? Every gesture?

CLARICE:

(a bit heatedly)

Right down to the kleenex I used.

(he is silent)

Sir, why? Is something wrong?

CRAWFORD:

He mentioned a name, at the very

end. "Mofet..." Any followup on her?

CLARICE:

I spent all evening on the mainframe.

Lecter altered or destroyed most of

his patient histories, prior to

capture. No record of anyone named

Mofet. But "Split City" sounded like

it might have have something to do

with divorce. I tracked it down in

the library's catalogue of national

yellow pages.

(glancing at her notes)

It's a mini-storage facility outside

Baltimore, where Lecter had his

practice.

She pauses, expecting some soft of approval for her

cleverness.

CRAWFORD:

Well? Why aren't you there right

now?

CLARICE:

Sir, that's a field job. It's outside

the scope of my assignment. And I've

got a test tomorrow on -

CRAWFORD:

Do you recall my instructions to

you, Starling? What were they?

CLARICE:

To complete and file my report by

0800 Wednesday. But sir -

CRAWFORD:

Then do that, Starling. Do just

exactly that.

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