MAGNET 65 pages
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THE MAGNET
by
glenn
H. whittaker, jr.
glenn H. whittaker, jr.
P.O. Box 188
Glen Carbon, IL 62934
618-692-9347
1. EXT. SMALL
SUBURBAN SHOPPING MALL.
2. INT. SALES FLOOR OF RAYS RADIO AND TELEVISION.
Dozens of customers are buying radios, TVs, VCRs.
Salesman JONES is chatting with two men standing next to a large screen TV.
JONES
I know it’s hard to believe but you can take this beauty home today for only $200.
DAWSON
The price is unbelievable. What’s wrong with it?
JONES
Not a thing sir. Not one thing that I know of. The store is going out of business, that’s all. Lots of bargains, bought one myself.
DUKE
(skeptical)
Out of business, sure. Probably got a bad bunch from Japan.
JONES
No sir, that’s not the case. The entire Rays store chain, thirty stores are on the chopping block. Everybody is getting a bargain this month.
DAWSON
Maybe. But what if it doesn’t work when we get it home? Or it breaks down in a week?
DUKE
Yea! You gotta warranty or something on this stuff?
JONES
Yes there is a 90 day warranty on all sale items.
DUKE
Three months. That’s not very long.
JONES
Most out of business sales don’t offer any type of warranty. What do you expect at these prices?
DAWSON
Well suppose it breaks down, what’ll we do when this store is closed?
JONES
The repair shop will be open until three months after the last store closes. Their address and phone number will be on the warranty papers. Satisfied?
DAWSON
Yea. That’s good enough for me. Where do we sign?
JONES
You won’t be sorry. I haven’t had any problems with the unit I bought two weeks ago. Follow me to the desk.
Duke and Dawson slap “high five” hands then follow Jones to the desk.
3. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
A dozen small speakers line a long workbench. An open note pad sits before each and pencils lay ready.
A silver-fringed balding male whose back is ALWAYS to the camera turns the volume up on one of the speakers. A soft drone of static back grounds the conversation on the speaker before him. His ear is cocked toward it, his hand scribbles madly.
DUKE (O.S.)
Dawson! Turn that damn TV down!
DAWSON (O.S.)
Fool! The tube's off, that's the neighbors at it again.
DUKE (O.S.)
Damn noisemakers. Is fightin' all they can do! I'm tired of their noise! Find some cartoons on the tube and blast it up!
4. INT. DAWSON’S FRONTROOM.
Dawson picks up a remote control and ons the large screen television and ups the volume.
He looks down at the sacks of multi-colored pills. He carefully opens then pours half of the powder from a red capsule into a clear capsule; the rest into a black one. From a large bowl of white powder he spoon fills the clear capsule. Then fills the black capsule with a yellowish powder. Both capsules full, he seals the new mixtures, throwing each into its own gallon jug.
DAWSON
(yells over shoulder)
Duke the pills are near ready. When those kids coming by?
Duke appears in the open doorway.
DUKE
Not till ten. Calm down.
DAWSON
Well I just don't like the looks of this new bunch you herded in.
DUKE
Shut up already! They laid out half the cash, 'member? Just have them pills ready. And the count better be right this time!
Duke walks close to the large screen TV.
DUKE
(continues)
Nice color but too bright. I’ll adjust the contrast button.
Duke opens the control panel and turns a knob. The television screen turns black. Duke turns all the knobs but the screen remains dark.
DAWSON
What the hell are you doing?
DUKE
I just turned the contrast button and it went black.
DAWSON
Fix it. Turn it back. Daffy Ducks on next.
DUKE
I am turning it. I turned them all. The damn thing’s broke.
DAWSON
Told ya. Just a piece of Japaniz junk. Call up that repairman.
Duke looks at the paperwork on the top of the screen. He dials a phone number.
DUKE
This Rays repair? Good. Bad. I mean the damn TV is bad. That’s right the damn TV I just bought from you guys is bad. The screen went black. When can you fix it? Fine, be there in a jiffy.
Duke hangs up then yanks the TV plug out of the socket. He bends down to lift one side of the large screen.
DAWSON
What about these pills?
DUKE
Lock the door. We'll be there and back long before the kids show at ten. Get over here and help. This thing's heavy!
Dawson jumps up and long steps to the waiting end, reaches and lifts the TV. Duke half stumbles as he walks backwards. They carry the large screen TV through the room, smashing the porch door open.
5. EXT. DAWSON’S APARTMENT PARKING LOT.
They put the TV onto the back of a 1970 Dodge pickup.
Duke opens the driver's door, sliding across to the passenger window. He takes the keys from the glove box and tosses them to Dawson's open hand as he slides in behind the steering wheel.
DUKE / DAWSON
(in unison)
Lights, camera, action!
6. EXT. CITY STREETS
Dawson hammers the shifter to drive and they lurch onto the side street. He flits through two stop signs then turns onto the super highway on-ramp.
Dawson lets the engine climb, sliding left to pass the few travelers. Within minutes the lanes clear before him and he holds a solid eighty-five mph.
He brights the lights, illuminating the concrete side-street barrier. He guides car from the left lane to the right lane at the curve's opening. Suddenly it noses hard right and goes over the shoulder lane, dead into the wall, ending in a fiery crash.
FADE OUT
7. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
The room is dark, illuminated only by the outside street lights. The silhouette of the balding Magnet stands at the open window he briefly stares at the distant fiery smoke on the superhighway fifty yards away.
The Magnet pulls down a black window shade, blocking out the street view. He then ons a light switch and goes over to his speaker lined workbench.
He picks up an open notepad, marks a large red ‘x’ in it, then closes it. Then puts the closed notepad in a slender black briefcase.
He then sits down, opens a new notepad, reaches over and turns up the volume of a speaker.
8. INT. BOWLING ALLEY BAR.
A group of men wearing identical bowling league shirts is drinking, laughing and kidding of scores and missed spares.
They quiet as the bar television flickers color and the announcer reports a guilty verdict of a Hollywood murder suspect.
CAPTAIN ED
They never did find the body, did they?
TEAM
(mutterings)
No, no I don't think they did. No. Nope. Sure didn't. Too bad. A good actress. Yea and what a looker.
Silence ensues as the men raise their glasses, sipping and slurping and dropping their mugs noisily to the table.
CAPTAIN ED
Say Jake, they ever find your wife?
Silence as all eyes focus quickly from Jake to Captain Ed then to their mugs.
Jake downs his mug to the table, somberly stares off into the distance.
JAKE
No. No one has heard from her yet.
CAPTAIN ED
Sorry Jake, I know how hard all this last year has been on you. The Feds still have her on the missing persons list?
JAKE
(grimaces)
Yea, gone now a whole year.
CAPTAIN ED
You haven't heard a thing?
JAKE
(shrugs)
No, just plain gone.
The men begin interjecting random thoughts into their beers.
TEAM
Yea another runaway housewife. Yea, shacked-up somewhere. Yea, probably Kansas. Yea got a whole new life. Yea Jake, you'll never see her again. Yea gone, just as well.
BOBBY
You was fighting real terrible last Christmas, as I remember.
(gestures fists)
MORGAN
Fightin', yea I 'member too, that black eye and smashed picture window.
STAN
Say Jake you got any insurance on her? Being gone, leaving you with those two kids. Baby sitters get expensive.
(rubs his fingertip)
BOBBY
Insurance? Say Jake could you loan me some money?
(opens empty wallet)
JAKE
What the hell!
(slams mug down)
MORGAN
(nudges Bobby)
You dummy. Shut up. Seven years you got to wait. And then, she might come back. Just might up and 'pear on the back porch some morning.
JAKE
(loud)
Yea. She just might at that.
BOBBY
Seven years is a long time Jake. No insurance money for seven years when missing.
Bobby sheepishly glances at all, resting his query on Captain Ed.
Jake slams the mug down hard, splattering suds over the table.
JAKE
Yea! Seven years. Damn insurance company! Baby sitters, daycare, housemaids. Man it gets real expensive. Damn insurance company.
Jake and Captain Ed's eyes meet across the table and hold steady.
As sneaky as summer's thunder, the chuckles and giggles from the men burst into roaring hysteria.
Jake's glare slips from a smile to a giggle, then suddenly into peals of maddening laughter.
Captain Ed's thin grin gradually changes to a jealous vengeful growl.
CAPTAIN ED
Seven long years Jake!
Jake fumbles a cigarette from the pack to his mouth. Strikes a wooden match, breaking the lit head off, it falls onto Bobby’s lap.
Bobby swipes at the exploding match, knocking the table ajar, spilling drinks and loose change to the floor.
The men grab for their drinks, sloshing beer onto their clothes.
Jake picks up his wet hat from the floor, swears loudly at Bobby and storms toward the exit.
9. EXT. BOWLING ALLEY PARKING LOT - NIGHT.
Jake gets into his heavy Chevy van, kicks over the engine and wheels out to the street.
10. EXT. CITY STREETS. JAKE’S CAR.
Jake glances in his rear mirror.
JAKE
Captain Ed knows. Somehow he does. Damn him! But they'll never prove it, never! No body no crime. Only six more years to go then it's insurance money easy street. Ha!
Catching all the red lights yellow, Jake takes to the superhighway on-ramp.
He glances at the Time & Temp sign over the Pepsi Factory, 8:15.
JAKE
Eight fifteen. Eight fifteen. Damn. I was to get that TV at eight. Damn those guys. Sure hope he aign't mad, me being late.
At fifty-five miles per hour the heavy Chevy bounds over a dip and sways from the merging lane to the vacant right lane. The headlights illuminate a retaining wall but the Chevy van just keeps angling toward the wall.
When Jake finally snaps clear-headed, the steering wheel is locked firm toward the wall and he crashes into it.
FADE OUT
11. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
The balding Magnet stares at the fiery smoke on the super highway fifty yards away. He pulls down the window shade, ons a light, then walks to his speaker lined workbench.
He picks up an open notepad, marks a large red “x” in it, and closes it. Then puts the closed notepad in a slender black briefcase.
He then sits down, opens a new notepad, reaches over and turns up the volume of a speaker.
12.
EXT. FIVE STORY APARTMENT BUILDING –
NIGHT
The skies are alit by the blaze of a tenement building. The quiet street is shattered by screaming fire engines.
As the fire engines stop in front of the burning
building a limping figure clad in black clothes disappears into a dark alley.
13. EXT. CITY STREET ALLEY - NIGHT
Manic laughter gradually replaces the fire engine sirens
as the limping man in black exits an alley onto the empty sidewalk.
The man in black calms, composing his emotions. Then
walks across the street toward a small open café.
14.
INT. SMALL CAFÉ
The café is empty of customers. The lone waitress is behind the counter tabulating her receipts. Sounds of pots and pans being scrubbed emit through the cook’s order-up window.
The man in black ambles to a corner table, sits, then stares at the waitress.
The waitress stares back then takes her pencil and pad over to his table.
MAN IN BLACK
Pepsi. No ice.
WAITRESS
Any food with that?
The man in black shakes his head no. And reaches over to an ashtray. As the waitress returns to the counter, he extracts a box of wooden matches from his coat.
As the glass fills with brown liquid, the waitress glances at the man in black. He flips lit match after lit match into the empty ashtray. A small fire erupts in the ashtray.
The waitress hurries to his table with the full glass extended. But before she gets too near the man in black knocks the flames out with the force of his hand over the ashtray. When the waitress gets to his table only smoke rises from the ashtray. She places the soda near him.
WAITRESS
Be anything else, sir?
The man in black shakes the empty matches’ box.
MAN IN BLACK
Got any wooden matches?
WAITRESS
(stares at ashtray)
Nope. Only paper packets.
The man in black shakes his head no thanks, takes the glass of soda and begins sipping.
The waitress returns to the counter and her receipts.
He watches her calculations then slips his hand to his inside pocket. He fingers out a small liquor flask, unscrews the lid and drinks down the remains. Spins the lid tight and slips the empty into his jacket. With his left, he slips into the other jacket pocket and pulls out a chemist’s bottle. This he holds to the light and eyes the contents. Smiles knowingly and slides it back to its pocket place.
He looks at the door. Ups and opens it, looks and listens at the empty street. He returns to the counter, lays down a five-dollar bill and leaves the café.
15. EXT. CITY STREET – NIGHT
The man in black limps down the vacant sidewalk. Crosses the street and enters a dark alley.
16. EXT. CITY ALLEY – NIGHT
The man in black limps down the alley. Stopping aside a broken window that has a white spray paint dot below it. He looks up at the five story building’s alley windows.
He trembles, glances left and right. Assured that he is alone he takes the chemist’s bottle from its waiting pocket place. Pulls a long wick from his pants, sticks it into the open bottle and carefully places it on a busted windowpane. Using a cigarette lighter he ignites the wick.
He hurriedly limps through the alley.
17. EXT. CITY STREET – NIGHT
The man in black gets into a 1980’s Cadillac convertible parked on the street near the alley. Fires up the engine, downs the driver’s window and slowly drives away. Within seconds a gigantic explosion shakes his convertible top. He then speeds quickly away focusing on the rearview mirror, which shows an orange fireball looming above the building tops.
18. INT. MAN IN BLACK’S WORKROOM/CAR GARAGE
The man in black exits the Cadillac and ambles to his workbench. Extracting a small key from his watch pocket, he opens the padlock, swinging the doors open exposing flasks, tubes and multi-colored bottles arranged carefully on shelves.
Extracting a Bunsen burner, he plugs it to a gas jet. Strikes a match and lights the burner, adjusting the flame. Taking three brown bottles from the shelf, he empties the contents into a chemist’s bottle above the flaming burner.
He then takes a stopper from the shelf, plugs the bottle, slipping a clear tube into its opening, putting the other end into a chemist’s bottle. He adjusts the flame higher and waits as the steam re-collects in the clear tube, condensing its volatile liquid into the empty chemist’s bottle. He carefully extracts the tube, extinguishes the flame and replaces everything. Putting the half-full nitro bottle in a foam lined, lock box.
He cleans up, then glances around. Checks his wristwatch, nods to himself and opens another cabinet door and switches on a small black and white TV. The news is on with a live camera story of a building burning. He grins and extracts a small notebook from aside the TV. Noting the time beside the building's address, he opens another cabinet door.
Taking the phone receiver from the holder and he dials the number in the notebook.
MAN IN BLACK
Smith there? You looking at the news? Yea it's burning now. Yea the other too. Anything else you need done this month? Well call.
Hanging the phone up, he puts the notebook back.
The black and white TV statics. He glances at it, reaches to the fine-tuning and fiddles with it, but the static gets worse. He changes the channels, but the static blurs the sound.
He turns down the volume, then fills his empty liquor flask from a bottle of gin. He takes the flask over to a cot against the wall and relaxes upon it.
He sips the flask and watches the TV, laughing to himself as the firemen try to dowse the flames.
The TV goes black. He curses and hurries to it. Turning knobs and pounding on the TV does not fix it. He grabs the small TV and throws it to the floor.
He then he opens the cabinet extracting the phone and dials a number.
MAN IN BLACK
You got my “new” TV fixed yet. Good. It's after eight already? Sorry, be right over.
Phone to the hook, door locked, he goes to the Caddy. Enters, fires it up, then backs out the garage.
19. EXT. CITY STREET ON RAMP TO SUPER HIGHWAY - NIGHT
The man in black merges his Cadillac smoothly from the on ramp into the light night traffic. Gliding to the middle lane he holds the Caddy at the speed limit. He looks at the passing cars, glances at his speedometer.
MAN IN BLACK
They must be doing 90mph. Where's the cops when you need one?
(manic laughter)
His car slips toward the right lane. He grasps the wheel, but the car continues to veer toward the shoulder.
His teeth clenched, knuckles white with stress, the car steadies on the shoulder and he begins to relax.
Suddenly the curve and the concrete wall appear, and his eyes widen. The car holds to its straight path, closing the gap from the wall.
He reaches to the ignition and offs it as the car is pulled into the wall. The scattering steel and glass are muffled by the gasoline tank explosion.
20. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
The balding Magnet stares at the fiery smoke on the superhighway fifty yards away. He pulls down the window shade, ons a light, then walks to his speaker lined workbench.
He picks up an open notepad, marks a large red “x” in it, and closes it. Then puts the closed notepad in a slender black briefcase.
He then sits down, opens a new notepad, reaches over and turns up the volume of a speaker.
FADE OUT
21. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Wednesday,
14 July 1986, 10:30 a.m.)
On the sixth underground level sit the agency's top two investigators encased by technology's most advanced computers.
Kerry is slouched in his roller wheel chair behind his desk reading the newspaper funnies.
KERRY
The printer is clanging again. Are you sure you fixed that spindle chain?
Hank rolls back from his desk and lumbers toward the printer, putting down his coffee cup on Kerry’s desk.
HANK
(looking down at printer)
It’s working just fine. This report is from Chicago.
KERRY
(sits erect)
Haven't heard from them in months. What's going on out there?
HANK
(shrugs)
Whatever it is must be strange. That's the weirdest city of the century.
Hank turns and stands silent, looking over the clanging output. When finished, he rips the report loose from the cylinder and lumbers back to Kerry's desk.
HANK
(continuing)
Just some car accidents.
Shaking his head, Hank hands the tear-sheet to Kerry. Hank reaches for his coffee cup, knocking it to the floor.
Kerry jumps back at the smattering cup, thudding his head against the wall. His chair balances on its back legs, holding him against the wall.
Kerry then reaches the report from the desk, eyes Hank, then reads silently.
Hank kicks the coffee cup pieces to the corner. Takes the broom and mop from the corner wall closet, then sweeps and cleans up the mess. Putting them away he takes another coffee cup from the upper shelf.
HANK
(mumbles)
Only two cups left.
KERRY
(looks up)
What? We got that set just last payday.
(counts fingers)
That's one a day.
HANK
It really isn't my fault. It's the new dish washing soap, too slippery.
Kerry slows his hand to his shaking head. He leans forward, dropping the chair flat, reaches for his coffee cup.
KERRY
I'll take a warm up.
(Scratching his chin)
There's more to this than simple car accidents.
Hank takes their cups to the coffee machine, fills both then lumbers back to the desk. Overtly careful, he spills some on the report.
HANK
Sorry, just not my day.
KERRY
Seems to me this whole week hasn't been too good for you. Well maybe this new case will help get your mind right.
HANK
Yea, it has been kind of boring. What do you make of it? Another car parts ring, insurance scammers or maybe some of those gang killings?
Hank dabs his handkerchief at the mess.
Quickly Kerry whisks the coffee off the report. Then slowly peals it from the table. Holding the limp sheet over the wastebasket, it drips.
KERRY
Send for a confirmation and get the stats on the victims and their cars.
Hank lumbers to the terminal and punches in the instructions.
Within seconds a duplicate report with the particulars is in Hank’s hands. He takes the report to Kerry.
KERRY
Go put the stats on the chalkboard over there.
Hank fills the chalkboard with neat columns of the stats-info. Standing back, he looks over the board, shakes his head.
HANK
There aren't many commons.
KERRY
(nods agreeing)
Seemingly not. Just the road section and time.
Hank points at the board, double-checking.
HANK
Different types of cars, different types of insurance companies, small policies, different jobs, different home locations. Here's something Kerry, two victims have felony charges and the other is out on bail.
KERRY
Yes Hank, being criminals is a link. Have Chicago P.D. send a complete inventory of their apartment effects. And I mean everything, even the number of toothpicks.
Hank chuckles and lumbers to the printer. Humming softly he punches the instructions forward.
Within moments the printer begins clanging its response. Hank turns in surprise, peers at the new info.
HANK
Seems as if their inspector's have been busy. They’re sending us the lists of inventories.
KERRY
(smiling)
Very good. I really didn't want to wait. This case has some substance to it.
Kerry carefully leans back against the wall, sips his coffee and stares at the chalkboard.
The printer quiets for a moment. So Hank tears the report loose, reading it as he lumbers toward Kerry. He stops in front of Kerry’s desk, putting his cup down, but it misses the edge, and crashes on the floor.
Kerry watching just shakes his head in disbelief.
HANK
What? How did that happen?
KERRY
The mop is in the closet.
The printer clangs rolling more words over the cylinder.
Hank glances at it. He eyes the broken cup pieces and kicks them to the pile in the corner. He then lumbers over to the printer where he rips loose the second inventory list as the printer begins the third. When complete, he tears the message free and takes both reports to Kerry.
HANK
Well at first glance, just the usual stuff we've all got. No real clues to me. You look it over, your mind works better on those hidden clues.
Kerry arranges the three reports on his desk, smiles.
KERRY
The mop is in the closet.
Hank looks at the wet floor then lumbers to the closet door. Opens it and pulls out the mop. Then reaches to the shelf and takes down another cup.
HANK
One left, durn!
KERRY
And one more week till payday. Think you'll make it?
(chuckles)
Hank, turn the chalkboard around. Add to the list each victim's clothes, kitchen things, letters, bills, toiletries, furniture, food stuffs, knick knacks, books, tools, pictures, records, record player, radio, TV, car.
Hank leaves the mop by the door. Then lumbers to the chalkboard, squeaking on the new data. Done, he steps back, looks it over then circles CAR and the 8pm.
HANK
You're right Kerry; these are not just simple car accidents. Why section 22 at 8pm and how. A real sicko.
KERRY
(smiles)
Yes I think so too. The how intrigues me. Each victim, at the same highway section and at the same hour certainly looks like murder, lured by a very ingenious black widow. The why, I don't know. Hank, have Chicago seal and send all of the victims effects. There must be some clues their boys missed.
Hank knocks the chalk dust from his hands and lumbers over to the printer and punching in the orders.
HANK
What if it's just a random killing psycho?
Kerry puzzles a frown, then sips his coffee.
KERRY
Well Hank, that's possible, yet I don't really think so. Each a known criminal element and the M.O. identical. Chicago suspected foul play and so do I.
HANK
(looks at clock)
Time to go.
FADE OUT
21.
EXT. TEN STORY BUILDING – DUSK
Distant vision of a ten story building; all of the windows are dark except one. Zoom in quickly to the lit window on the sixth floor.
22.
INT. LIT WINDOW ROOM OF TEN STORY
BUILDING
The room is composed of mirrors on the walls, ceiling and floor. Lining two opposite walls are racks of clothes: shirts, pants, suits, dresses, hats, coats. Loose clothes litter the floor. The room is illuminated through the ceiling mirrors.
Littered about on an octagonal glass table are newspaper
obituary clippings with some names lined through in various colored ink.
In the hands of a slender white, white middle-aged male, Elton, are two shirts. He looks first to one then the other, finally puts on a pink pullover.
Elton looks at the newspaper. Turns open a few pages of a phone book and
punches out a number on a black desk phone.
Yes,
who is this?
MRS.
KENNEDY (O.S.)
Excuse
me sir, you called me.
Exactly, so what do you want now?
(gestures
impatient)
MRS.
KENNEDY (O.S.)
Pardon me sir, but you called me, just who do you want to talk to?
ELTON
Oh pardon yourself, you cagey lady.
(winks at the phone)
MRS. KENNEDY (O.S.)
Look here, just what are you talking about?
ELTON
Hold the phone lady, I've just got to change back to black, sorry.
Elton puts the receiver on the table. He pulls the sweater from his shoulders, flips it high into the air and giggles.
(continues)
Don't you just hate those armbands, so tacky.
MRS. KENNEDY (O.S.)
Sir, I'm going to hang this phone up.
ELTON
Looky mommy dear, don't be so cruel to your mourning son.
(hugs self)
MRS. KENNEDY (O.S.)
What, what's this you're saying? My son died in the war. Just what kind of person are you? My son gone, now my husband. Just what kind of sick person are you?
(anger)
Elton ons a black turtleneck and flips a quick smile to the mirror; he turns and jumps at the phone with a high squeal.
ELTON
Whiiiiiiiiiy your kind of sickie, mommy. Mommy dear mommy, I'm back. Back from the war, dear mommy.
MRS. KENNEDY (O.S.)
Sir you are are are...!
As the receiver buzz clicks dead, ELTON spins and spins, giggling and grinning at the mirrors on the wall, then at the ceiling.
He lays quiet on the floor, starring at his reflection. Slowly he pulls the sweater over his head. Bare back to the cold mirrored floor, he breathes deeply cooing.
ELTON
Mommy, dearest mommy.
He shivers. Suddenly roll jumps to the table and lines out a name with a pink crayon. Looking over the list, he throws them down.
ELTON
Done mommy, all done, damn. Tomorrow's another day, surely one of them will want to play. Yea mommy, what do you say?
He grabs a black robe and dances over to the TV, flips it on and sits down on a pile of clothes. Reaches over to the tube, ups it and rolls to his back, closes his eyes and begins to massage his temples.
The TV statics, hums, crackles, then goes silent.
Elton sits up. Looks at the fuzzy TV screen and yanks the plug, mumbling.
ELTON
Yea mommy, got that new color television for your soaps. Sorry mommy, it’s broken already. Have to call that Rays Repair Shop.
Elton takes a card off the top of the TV, then dials a phone number.
ELTON
(continues)
Hello, hello, hello. This Ray’s Repair? Very good. Sorry to say, but the color TV you sold me is broken already. That’s right. Yea, no sound. You can fix it, tonight, really? Very very good. Yea. I know that exit. Be there shortly.
Elton hangs up the phone. Then dressed in red hat and shoes, he pulls a full-length crimson raincoat over his nude body. Picks up the TV and his satchel, dims the apartment lights and exits.
23. INT. ELTON’S PARKING GARAGE
As the elevator opens, he glances shyly through the opening. Satisfied, he strolls pertly to his silver streaked Citron Sedan.
Comfortable behind the wheel, he pushes the starter switch and the generator hums smoothly on. Flipping the headlamps open, he adjusts the mirrors, rewinds the fusion tape, then slips the clutch out.
The car jerks and jumps forward, throwing him around the seat. The Citron Sedan settles smoothly as the speed increases through the underground garage. Its door opening as he drives under its rising folds, missing the edge by inches.
24. EXT. PARKING GARAGE – NIGHT
The building's garage driveway merges directly onto the superhighway on-ramp.
Within minutes the Citron holds to the 55mph cruise controls. Staying in the middle lane, his road duties are few as the speeders pass on his left and the off-ons, his right.
Elton’s eyes narrow to slits, weary of his day's fun. His bob and hum timing to the radio music, a fusion beat, slows as he settles into the seat.
Near asleep, hand lightly on the wheel, he
becomes slightly aware of the long curve and the Sedan's gradual drift toward
the wall. When finally he realizes he's
headed for the wall, he jams the brakes and spins the wheel.
The Citron smashes and crashes the wall numerous
times, bursting into flames.
25. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
The balding Magnet stares at the fiery smoke on the super highway fifty yards away. He pulls down the window shade, ons a light, then walks to his speaker lined workbench.
He picks up an open notepad, marks a large red “x” in it, and closes it. Then puts the closed notepad in a slender black briefcase.
He then sits down, opens a new notepad, reaches over and turns up the volume of a speaker.
FADE OUT
26. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Thursday, 15
July 1986, 9:00 a.m.)
Kerry sips coffee at his desk; his eyes roving from report to the chalkboard to report.
Hank, sitting at the printer terminal, nods off to
sleep. His coffee cup slips from his
grasp and crashes to the floor, startling both investigators.
The printer clangs the day's first message.
Hank tears the finished report loose and lumbers toward
Kerry.
Chicago again.
Another auto fatality at section 22 last night.
KERRY
(eyes glisten)
8pm?
HANK
Yea, 8pm again.
Kerry rolls his hands together, then makes a space on his desk for the new report.
KERRY
Get me that new inventory of the personal effects. Then have Chicago seal and send everything to our lab.
Hank lumbers back to the printer and punches in
the orders.
HANK
Anything else?
KERRY
Yea, the mop's in the closet.
Hank looks down at the busted cup and nods okay. He kicks the broken pieces to the corner then lumbers to the mop closet. Takes the last cup from the shelf.
HANK
Kerry? Could I buy another set of cups from petty cash? This is the last one.
KERRY
(sips coffee)
Alright. We'll charge them to this case.
HANK
(smiles back)
Thanks. I'll call the order in to Supply.
The
printer clangs on.
Hank lumbers to it. Peers down at its message.
HANK
It's the personal effects.
Hank mops up the coffee mess, finishing as the printer stops.
He tears the report loose. Puts the mop in the closet, lumbers to Kerry and puts the report on the desk. Then lumbers back to the printer to make his Supply request.
Kerry cross-references the four reports. He stops, stares and calls to Hank.
KERRY
See
if our lab has the inventories from Chicago yet. Then have Chicago put that highway area under maximum
surveillance: helicopters, planes, undercover cars and walkers. And lots of TV cameras, all angles and have
it tied here live before 8pm tonight.
Hank nods in agreement then pounds the orders onto the terminal. The printer clanks a short blast and Hank views it, calling.
HANK
The personal inventories are in the lab and Supply has my, ah, the new coffee cups.
KERRY
(sits erect)
Tell the lab we'll be right there. I want to check out a few of my notions.
Hank punches the orders onto the terminal.
FADE OUT
27. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP
FADE IN
The balding Magnet is sitting at his speaker lined workbench adjusting different speaker knobs. His hand stays on each speaker for a few seconds then moves to the next speaker. After three different speakers, his hand goes to his notepad and begins to scribble words.
FADE OUT
28. INT. DONNA’S APARTMENT BEDROOM
Two nude humans, male and female Donna, are lying of a crimson velvet bed. They are being sexually intimate.
The camera closes in their faces; both are clearly seen for seconds. The camera view then fuzzes their faces.
Then the camera view clears and shows both their faces close up. The woman, Donna, is the same, but there is now a different male.
The woman, Donna, calls out different male names as the face of each different male is clearly shown.
The camera pulls back to show the couple nude, being sexually intimate, the focus is fuzzy.
The camera view fuzzes their faces again. When the camera view clears it shows their faces. The woman, Donna, is the same, but there is another different male.
The camera view pans the bedroom; sexually intimate portraits are on the walls. Sexual “toy” items are scattered about the room. The song “Sexual Healing” softly plays in the background.
When the camera closes in on the couples’ faces again, it is the same woman, Donna, but again a different male.
The camera view fuzzes the couples’ faces and their sexual action remains fuzzy.
The camera view clears focused on a tabletop of loose hundred dollar bills.
FADE OUT
29. EXT. SUPERHIGHWAY TRAFFIC – NIGHT
Donna is driving a convertible; top down, wind blowing her hair.
The speedometer reads at 110mph.
Her car zips through the light traffic toward the curve and the retaining wall.
The retaining wall looms closer and closer until it completely fills the scene.
The final scene is of Donna’s lips against windshield.
30. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
The balding Magnet stares at the fiery smoke on the super highway fifty yards away. He pulls down the window shade, ons a light, then walks to his speaker lined workbench.
He picks up an open notepad, marks a large red “x” in it, and closes it. Then puts the closed notepad in a slender black briefcase.
He then sits down, opens a new notepad, reaches over and turns up the volume of a speaker.
FADE OUT
31. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Thursday, 15
July 1986, 7:50 p.m.)
Kerry is sitting at his desk. Hank is sitting at a computer keyboard terminal.
Their computer room is in dim violet light as the tele-viewer screens are showing section 22 of Illinois Interstate 55 in Chicago, IL from five viewpoints.
A small convertible looms in two of the screens. The third screen is displaying a long highway overview. The forth screen is slowly panning the left side-street buildings and the fifth screen the right side buildings.
Suddenly the convertible angles to the wall. One screen pans a quick close up of its crash. The second screen shows Donna’s face; her large red lips against the windshield.
KERRY
(yells)
Hit the lights and have screen 3 and 5 run instant replays.
Hank punches in the instructions. And the highway over view and the convertible crash are re-run.
The other screens continue to display the live action.
HANK
She seemed very surprised to me. Like she'd lost control of the vehicle.
KERRY
Yes, so it did seem.
HANK
A mechanical malfunction?
KERRY
Possible, yet the previous accident reports did not indicate tampering.
Kerry shuffles some papers about his desk, eyes one.
HANK
Then how is the murderer causing a wreck just at that section, at that time?
KERRY
(scratches chin)
Not sure yet. Have our lab and Chicago's review those tapes. Instruct Chicago P.D. to keep the area under surveillance. And I want infrared cameras on line and helicopter radar scanning the whole area by tomorrow.
Hank punches in the orders. Stretches back and yawns.
KERRY
Well let's call it a night.
32. INT. HAZEL’S RESTAURANTE
The petite, perky brunette waitress smiles goodnight to the last couple as she crumples the dollar tip into her pocket. She flips the OPEN sign over to CLOSED and locks the door. She then looks over to her boss, Hazel, in frowned conversation with a smart dressed, youthful business accountant, Mr. Tanning.
Hazel is shaking her head in disbelief while paging through a loose leafed business ledger.
HAZEL
How can this be, how can this be, business has been booming these last weeks.
MR. TANNING
Well yes, your receipts have been good this past month, but your cash flow over the summer was negative.
Hazel glances up and glares at the eaves-dropping waitress.
The waitress blushes and quickly darts into the kitchen where the cook is putting the last of the pots up to dry. They frown at each other. The waitress places her apron on a hook, puts on her coat down and leaves through the back door.
The cook then peaks through the open orders window.
COOK
Anything else you need done boss?
Hazel jerks up from the ledger, half-hollering at him.
HAZEL
NO! nothing. Don't bug me!
COOK
Well then Hazel, I'm done back here and a goin' home.
HAZEL
Fine!
COOK
See ya tomorrow!
(slams the door)
HAZEL
Yea maybe.
Hazel sits back in the booth, slams the ledger book in disgust, then glares at the smiling accountant.
HAZEL
Well Mr. Tanning! Just exactly what does all this mean. Like what's the bottom line here?
Mr. Tanning stares back into her broken face, takes the ledger book from her, opens it to the last page, clears his throat, straightens his tie and holds the page for her to see.
MR. TANNING
Simply stated Hazel, you are beyond bankruptcy. The repairs and the expansion room you made this past summer consumed your profits of the spring quarter. Your note payments are two months in arrears and my agency will be forced to foreclose. That is unless you can come up with your delinquent payments by the month's end.
Hazel sits forward pointing an accusing finger, her voice crackling near hysteria.
HAZEL
You! You did this to me. Three years I've been in business here. Struggled to build a solid clientele. Paid my investment loan off the first year. Money ahead, savings built the second year. Then, then your agency, you in fact, came into my place with promises. Promises of growth and prosperity. Expand. Invest in the place. Build bigger. Increase customer space. More customers, more income. So I did. And now, six months later, you say I'm bankrupt and you're going to foreclose! Damn you, damn damn you and your agency!
Hazel slams her fist to the table, grabs up her coffee cup and throws the remains at Mr. Tanning.
The tepid fluid saturates his suit and splashes over his glasses. Unmoving, he takes his handkerchief from his inside pocket and cleans his glasses then brushes his shirt. He picks up the ledger and closes it. He glances at the clock, 7:45.
MR. TANNING
You must excuse me mame; I've an appointment at 8pm and must take my leave. I remind you, you have till the month's end to clear your delinquent account.
Mr. Tanning slides from the booth, ledger under his arm, downs his hat.
MR. TANNING
(continues)
A pleasant evening Hazel, I'm truly sorry your business expansion didn't work out.
Hazel grabs the napkin holder from the table and pitches it at him as he walks away. It flies over his left shoulder and crashes harmlessly against the wall.
Mr. Tanning turns the door lock open and departs to his car.
34. EXT. HAZEL’S RESTAURANTE PARKING LOT - NIGHT
Mr. Tanning pulls the keys from his pocket, unlocks the new Lincoln convertible, slides into the leather seat, and places the ledger on the passenger seat.
Key in the ignition he fires up the engine, warms it, then pulls out onto the street. Glancing in the mirror at the flashing neon, HAZEL'S,
MR. TANNING
Yes. I think, I'll change the name of that place.
He looks at the digital dash clock, 7:58p.m.
MR. TANNING
Appears I'll be a little late.
33. EXT. SUPERHIGHWAY – NIGHT
Mr. Tanning settles back against the headrest, then reaches over to the radio and pushes the on button.
RADIO
(rock & roll song)
You're just another brick in the wall.
He rocks to the song’s beat until his attention becomes focused on the nearing retaining wall.
He fights with the wheel to straighten his auto's path. But futile his efforts; as he soon becomes just another fiery smear against the wall.
34. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
The balding Magnet stares at the fiery smoke on the super highway fifty yards away. He pulls down the window shade, ons a light, then walks to his speaker lined workbench.
He picks up an open notepad, marks a large red “x” in it, and closes it. Then puts the closed notepad in a slender black briefcase.
He then sits down, opens a new notepad, reaches over and turns up the volume of a speaker.
FADE OUT
35. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Saturday, 17 July 1986, 8:30 p.m.)
The computer room is illuminated by the five tele-viewer screens showing various scenes along interstate 55 in Chicago, IL.
Hank is sitting at a computer keyboard watching the
screens.
Kerry is sitting at his desk, watching the screens.
Well Kerry, that's the second smash-up we've seen. And both drivers were surprised and were fighting for control of the car. And both lost to the wall.
Hank flips two switches on his computer, offing the tele-viewer screens and oning the room lights.
KERRY
The 'dead zone', to para- phrase Chicago news.
HANK
Kerry, you don't think it's more of that voodoo stuff, do you?
(shivers)
Kerry leans his chair back against the wall.
KERRY
(chuckles)
No, Hank. But some of those Chicago people do. The press is having a real field day with that dead zone phrase.
Hank shakes his head, skews his eyebrows and looks to the chalkboard. He lumbers over to the second board and prints up the new stats. Steps back, puts his hands in his pockets and slowly rocks back and forth.
HANK
Not voodoo. And certainly not suicide. Probably murder but no mechanical tampering reported. The tires weren't blown. And no driver gun shot wounds.
KERRY
(sits erect)
Shot! That's it Hank! They were shot.
HANK
But Kerry, the autopsy reports were clear of gun shot wounds.
(points at chalkboard)
KERRY
Yes Hank, they were shot by something else.
HANK
You mean like those alpha waves the Russians were using on our embassies?
KERRY
Exactly!
HANK
The radar didn't register any type of interference.
KERRY
Must be a new unusual frequency. Have the lab take our latest equipment to Chicago before tomorrow night. Have them completely cover a ten-mile radius. We'll have our culprit soon. (twirls imaginary mustache)
HANK
8pm, 8pm, lost control, lost control, shot? Shot? Shot from what? Shot of what? Lost control from a shot of what?
(turns to Kerry)
Maybe each of those victims was drugged. And when they got to the dead zone, the drug did its thing. They lost control and crashed.
KERRY
Hank. I gave that idea some thought too, but the timing is so close and most importantly, they crashed at the same curve, the same wall.
HANK
(sudden inspiration)
A hypnotic suggestion and a drug. The dentist could have done it. Doped them up when fixing their teeth and suggested, told them they'd lose control when they saw a certain curve or a road sign along the highway.
KERRY
(scratches chin)
Okay Hank, let's run with that. Told them to drive on that highway near 8pm to get something and to freeze or freak-out, losing mechanical control for just long enough for the speed to take them to the wall.
HANK
Ya hypnotic drug suggestion.
KERRY
Well it would have to be a pretty powerful drug and recently administered for the suggestion to work. But the autopsy didn't show any such chemicals. Still it’s possible. Have Chicago P.D. backtrack their on-goings for the previous two weeks. There has to be a common link.
Kerry rubs his chin and stares up at the ceiling.
Hank lumbers to the printer and types the instructions. Finished, he yawns.
HANK
Let's call it a night.
FADE OUT
36. INT. CAFÉ - DUSK
The only customers occupying the small café are
sitting in a booth. A middle-aged man, B.J., wearing a rumpled white suit
spotted with dribbled coffee stains sits across from a skinny black woman,
June, and a tiny white girl, Melisa.
B.J.
Look lady, $650 is the going scale for three year olds this season, take it or peddle your brat elsewhere.
June retching her knuckles against the palms of her hands as she glances down at the frighten-eyed child.
A whimper slips from Melisa. June lightly slaps the Melisa's face.
JUNE
Shut up! Eat yous pizza. Keep quiet and dhis nice man will take you to yous new dry home.
Melisa eyes dart from her captor to the weathered face of the buyer, B.J.
B.J. smiles at Melisa and the girl's eyes tear, her body tremoring.
June slaps Melisa again.
JUNE
Eat yous pizza.
B.J. pulls a wad of bills from his pocket and waves them at June.
B.J.
Well, you want this or not?
June looks around, spying the fat matron cook watching a large screen color TV. June looks back at Melisa, then grabs the loose bills from B.J.
June quickly counts and folds the money into her
shirt pocket. She looks down at the
child and gestures another slap, checks herself and growls.
JUNE
Yous
be nice, do what dhis man says, no cryin’ or screamin’ or I'll come back and
beat dhe hell out of yous! Got it kid!
June slide jumps from the booth and runs to exit door.
37. EXT. CAFÉ PARKING LOT – DUSK
June hurriedly gets into the waiting wreck of an old Oldsmobile 88, which speeds out onto an empty street.
38. INT. CAFÉ – DUSK
B.J. grins at Melisa, picks up a long kid's trench coat and places on the seat beside her.
B.J.
What's your name honey?
MELISA
Melisa.
B.J.
Well Melisa, there's a new coat for you. Are you done eating?
Melisa looks at the piece of pizza remaining, picks it up and nibbles a few bites, looks up, nods yes.
B.J.
(continues)
Well then it's time to go to your new home. I know you'll like it there. The people are nice, not mean like that black woman who hit you. They will give you new clothes and toys.
Melisa stares at B.J. then begins to cry.
MELISA
Mommy,
mommy. I want my mommy. I don’t want
toys, I want my mommy. Mommy, mommy, I
want my mommy.
B.J. gets up from his place and rounds the booth and sits beside her. He pats her shoulders and holds a napkin before her.
MELISA
Now, now Melisa, quiet your tears. I know you want your mommy. I want my mommy sometimes too. You quiet now, put on this coat and maybe the people at your new home will help you find your mother. She got lost.
Melisa looks up at B.J., dries her eyes with the
napkin.
MELISA
My mommy's lost?
B.J.
Yes, your mommy got lost. So we have found you a new home, a new mommy. And maybe if you are a good, quiet little girl they might find your old mommy. So quiet now, put on this coat and my friend will take you to your new mommy. Okay Melisa?
Melisa looks at the coat, picks it up then looks
at B.J.
MELISA
My new mommy will find my mommy?
B.J.
Yes, I'm sure she will. But remember to be quiet and not cry, be nice and I'm sure she will find your old mommy.
MELISA
(slowly smiles)
Well okay, I can be quiet. I won't cry. And we will find my mommy?
B.J.
Yes, yes. She will find your mommy.
(nods reassuringly)
Melisa’s smile widens.
B.J. smiles. Then he stands up, pointing.
B.J.
Well here comes my friend. She will take you to your new mommy. They will find your old mommy. Now put on your coat, it's time to go. Remember you must be quiet. Real quiet.
Melisa outs the booth and puts on the trench
coat.
MELISA
Yes I will be quiet, I can remember. We will find my lost mommy.
A large oriental woman, Hog, comes through the door, walks over to B.J.
HOG
She ‘weady?
B.J.
Yes, little Melisa is ready. She promised to be quiet.
MELISA
I can be quiet. I want my mommy.
B.J.
She's a nice girl who just wants to help find her lost mommy. Right, Melisa?
Melisa nods yes.
Hog clad in a brown trench coat thrusts her hand toward Melisa.
HOG
Good. Hold my hand Melisa, we will help you find your lost mommy.
Melisa takes Hog's hand and they turn to leave.
B.J.
Say Hog, you forgot something didn't ya?
Hog stops, reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out an envelope, turns back and hands it to him, turns and leaves.
B.J. opens the envelope and counts the bills.
B.J.
13, 14, 15 hundred. Ha ha ha. Another lost mommy, too bad.
B.J. walks over to the cook and hands her three hundred-dollar bills. The cook turns down the TV volume and smiles.
COOK
Didn’t see a thing.
(puts money in bra)
39. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Sunday, 18 July 1986, 7:45 p.m.)
Hank wearily closes the door and lumbers to the printer terminal and collapses in his chair. Picks up his coffee cup and gulps the remains. Replaces the cup and turns toward Kerry.
HANK
Well that's the third time we've been through their stuff. I still haven't any ideas.
The printer clangs on.
Hank jumps back around, knocking the cup to the floor. He settles back in his chair and stares at the broken pieces.
The printer quiets.
KERRY
The mop is in the closet. What's Chicago doing?
Hank leans forward, reads the new report, rips it loose then lumbers over to Kerry's desk.
HANK
They have the whole area ready. All the equipment is in place. They want to do a house to house search.
KERRY
(scratches chin)
No, not yet. No sense in panicking that many citizens.
HANK
Yea, the victims were just criminals anyway.
KERRY
That's right Hank. And that’s our link.
HANK
Yea, they were all criminals. That's a commonality, but how is it the link we've been looking for?
KERRY
It's the why. Remember, the how intrigued me and the why I didn't know. It's near 8pm, turn the screens on.
Hank punches the tele-viewer screen buttons then turns and lumbers back to the chalkboard.
On the chalkboard he red lines the criminal charge of each, steps back and looks to Kerry.
HANK
Six suspected or known criminal elements, dead. Each crashed mysteriously against a highway wall. Yea that's a definite why.
KERRY
(leans chair back)
Yea murdering known criminals, a vigilante, the classic poetic justice rationale.
HANK
(holds his cup high)
A private crime stopper. But how did he get them against that wall? The coroner's report was a definite no on hypnotic drugs.
KERRY
Yes and I've gone over each victim's basic daily activity report. And I must agree with Chicago not one item of commonality in action. In fact the total lack of any over-lap; doctor, grocery, night club, even gas stations, has me even more convinced these are all connected, thoroughly planned executions.
Hank turns from his stare of the chalkboard.
HANK
(softly says)
Kerry they all had telephones. I'll cross check all the phone records. The murderer may have been a salesman. Had set up a meeting at 8pm at a place, which forced them to travel along the dead zone.
KERRY
(smiles)
My thoughts precisely. Get to those phone records ASAP.
Hank is rocking on his heals, muttering to his self.
HANK
Then when they passed near section 22...
KERRY
You mean the dead zone.
HANK
...he shoots them with a new kind of ray gun, ZAP. They lose control of the wheel, smash and crash.
FADE OUT
40. EXT. CAFÉ PARKING LOT – NIGHT
B.J. takes a deep breath, then stares up at stars.
B.J.
What a great place, what an easy life, Chicago and the free enterprise system, should have moved here long ago.
B.J. pulls his keys from his pocket, enters his Rolls Royce, fires up the engine and backs onto the street. Cruising along the superhighway he begins humming.
B.J.
Only in America, land of opportunity.
B.J.’s wristwatch buzzes, he eyes it and swears.
B.J.
Damn! Eight o'clock, damn near forgot that TV deal.
B.J. looks back to the road to see the retaining wall as the Rolls crumbles and bursts into flames, marking another greasy spot on the wall.
42. INT. MAGNET’S APARTMENT WORKSHOP.
The balding Magnet stares at the fiery smoke on the super highway fifty yards away. He pulls down the window shade, ons a light, then walks to his speaker lined workbench.
He picks up an open notepad, marks a large red “x” in it, and closes it. Then puts the closed notepad in a slender black briefcase.
He then sits down, opens a new notepad, reaches over and turns up the volume of a speaker.
FADE OUT
41. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Sunday, 18 July 1986, 8:00 p.m.)
Hank looks up to the screen and silently watches as the Rolls smashes against the wall.
HANK
Kerry! That was a Rolls Royce. Wow oh wow. What an explosion! Wonder what his crime was. A Rolls for a ride, a real high roller. Drugs, the numbers, embezzler, or maybe a kingpin?
KERRY
Hank, get Chicago on the line!
Kerry leaps to his feet.
Hank snaps the receiver up and punches the number. The screen illuminates the face of a policeman.
CPT. LOCKE
Captain Locke here HQ. What can I do for you?
KERRY
(loudly)
Captain! What did the radar find?
Cpt. Locke turns from the screen and puts a phone receiver to his ears, nods and jots some notes on a pad, then turns back to the screen.
CPT. LOCKE
HQ. Sorry. Nothing on the infrared or the ultra-subs. The High Intensity and the Atomic Particle registers went on the fretz right before the crash.
KERRY
(nods and smiles)
Very good. Get that equipment fixed by tomorrow night. OUT!
(faces Hank)
Let's call it a day.
FADE OUT
42. INT. GRAYHAM’S APARTMENT FRONTROOM
Boots
resting over an array of newspapers and magazines, hands holding warm beer
cans, baseball caps tilted over one eye, pot bellies showing through lost
buttons, the two unshaven twins are finally having their family reunion.
Evil they were. You know it,
you said so! You did.
Yea! Yea! I said they were evil, but damn Robby Lee,
that aign't no call to be poppin 'em like that.
Evil! Evil! They was evil. The Devil's handmaidens out to ruin another God fearin man.
Robby Lee. This
here's the city and city folk has got different ways. And them whores you popped is okay with these city folks. Really!
Evil, the Devil's handmaidens, whorin god's laws asunder
and doin the Devil's deeds. Ruinin,
temptin good men, family men.
Robby Lee, them God fearin men can take care of
themselves. You aign't no angel yourn
self.
Damn your hide Billy Paul. I'm the most God fearin man 'round, and you know it. I go to church every Sunday, coach the kids'
softball and make all the revivals.
Yea Robby Lee you make church and the revivals. And the
taverns, before and after, washin down them pitchers of beer. God's work indeed. Tell me Robby Lee, just when did you begin poppin them evil
people?
Well sir, let me think.
It's been quite a long spell, now on 8 years. He come to me in a dream after my rebirth. Tellin me to keep evil
out of town, away from my family and friends.
Yes sir, long on eight years now it's been.
A dream you had wider than that thern shade tree in the
back, was it?! Told you to keep the
evil from town. What kinds of evil, Robby Lee?
Just how you keep that Devil's crew from town?
God's work, his most important work, fightin the Devil,
chasin off his hordes. Told
(continuing)
me just to keep them from town. Didn't say just how. So's I'd ask 'em, if they stayed then I'd
tell 'em. Then I'd pop 'em.
Robby Lee I aign't goin believe folks up and left town
cause you asked 'em or told 'em.
Really Billy Paul.
They's did, up and packed and was out of town in one day.
Robby Lee, just how many evil people you run out of town
these eight long years?
Three hundred and twenty seven.
What!
Yea, I wrote 'em down in the book to show St. Peter when
my day comes.
Three hundred and twenty seven people left town cause
you asked 'em?
Yea that's right Robby Lee, I got 'em all in the book.
Neat and straight for St. Peter 'em self.
Robby Lee, you showed anybody this hern book?
No sir, it's just for St. Peter.
Robby Lee, that's a lot of people.
Not so many, it's been eight years.
And they all left, just up and packed, didn't say no,
just up and left? No trouble at all?
Well some of 'em said no. No sir they wouldn't all go.
God's work aign't that easy.
Well that's a little easier to believe. Just how many said no?
From the pocket of his bathing robe, Robby Lee pulls free a blue note book. He rolls to a sitting position on the white bear rug. Then pages to the back and begins counting aloud.
ROBBY LEE
1,2,3...35,36,37...59,60,61...73.
(grins)
BILLY PAUL
(mouth agape, coughs)
73 folks said no, only 73. Well then I was right, they didn't all leave.
ROBBY LEE
No Robby Lee, they are all gone. I do good the God's work.
BILLY PAUL
But you said they said no. How did you get them to leave?
ROBBY LEE
In the buryin wagon.
BILLY PAUL
What!? You, you popped 'em? All them that said no? You got to be pullin my leg!
ROBBY LEE
No sir Billy Paul, God don't hold with lyin.
BILLY PAUL
So you sit here on my livin room floor, drinkin my beer, sleepin on my couch, a eatin my food and tellin me the tallest tale I ever done heard. And you expect me to believe it.
ROBBY LEE
Billy Paul, I do good the Lord's work.
BILLY PAUL
Yes sir Robby Lee, you sure have.
The phone rattles the room and Billy Paul breaks his stare of his twin cousin from the country and jumps to the phone, nervously whispers.
BILLY PAUL
Grayham's residence. The TV's fixed already? Oh good, yea, yea, we can get it tonight. Eight, yea, 8'll be fine.
He sets the receiver back on the hook and turns to his cousin.
BILLY PAUL
The new TV's ready.
ROBBY LEE
Yea, I heard. You say it's color?
BILLY PAUL
Yea, the repairman gave me such a deal, I like color.
ROBBY LEE
Yea, me too. Let's go, it's near on 7:45.
Robby Lee walks to the closet and downs his windbreaker. Grabs the long rain coat and pitches it to his cousin.
Billy Paul stands clumsily, then slips the coat on over his bathroom. At the door they both slip on their cowboy boots.
42. EXT. GRAYHAM’S APARTMENT DRIVEWAY – NIGHT
At the car Robby Lee opens the door for Billy Paul, then jogs to the driver's door, reaches through the open window to the door handle, opens and enters.
Slipping the key quickly into the ignition, he kicks the gas pedal twice, yells.
BILLY PAUL
Start you mother monster or to the junk yard tomorrow.
The motor roars awake. As the engine quiets to idle, Billy Paul looks at his cousin in awed shock.
BILLY PAUL
73 said no, huh.
ROBBY LEE
Right!
Billy Lee shakes his head slowly, then knocks the shifter into drive.
43. EXT. CITY STREETS – NIGHT
The car lopes down the drive, pauses at the street then jets across the street traffic. Ongoing cars screech to stop.
Down the superhighway on-ramp Billy Paul roars onto the freeway at 75mph. Slipping through the few slow drivers he settles back against the seat and turns to his cousin.
BILLY PAUL
Robby Lee. What did Sheriff Williams say about all them dead people?
ROBBY LEE
Well Billy Paul, I don't rightly know. I never met the Sheriff.
BILLY PAUL
Oh! Well then, what did the newspapers say 'bout all them dead?
ROBBY LEE
Billy Paul! You knows I don't read.
BILLY PAUL
Oh yea, I kinda forgot. You still go into Rosy's Cafe for breakfast?
ROBBY LEE
Yea.
BILLY PAUL
Well what did she say 'bout them dead?
ROBBY LEE
Oh, me and Rosy talked 'bout 'em once. She said the Sheriff thinks the Boston Strangler lives in town.
Robby Lee looms through a slight dip and angles from the long concrete curve, tires squealing the strain.
BILLY PAUL
Amazin, just amazin. My very own cousin been doin God's work all these long years. And him never let on to me at all.
Robby Lee glances over at Billy Paul. They grin and simultaneously say.
BILLY PAUL/ROBBY LEE
God sure works in strange and mysterious ways.
As their eyes glint into each other’s eyes, the concrete wall greets them.
FADE OUT
44. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Monday, 19 July 1986, 8:05 p.m.)
Hank is sitting at his computer terminal watching the silent tele-viewer screen of the Grayham’s car crash. He shakes his head and swivels his chair toward Kerry.
HANK
Those two didn't even know what hit them, so lost in their conversation.
KERRY
(leans chair back on wall)
Hank, put the replays of those drivers on the screen.
Hank types on the keyboards. The two tele-viewer screens focused on the car begin a slow motion replay of the final moments of the car crash.
Hank then offs the tele-viewer screens and ons the room lights.
HANK
They looked in control. But the car went into the wall just like a front tire blowout might.
KERRY
(scratches chin)
Yea? You sure? Looked like they didn't lose control, but that control was taken from them.
HANK
You mean, he shot the car? But the accident reports were negative. Even our boys could not find any conclusive mechanical tampering.
Kerry tips his chair flat and fingers through the reports. Finally he looks curiously to Hank.
KERRY
What type of ray would knock out the High Intensity and the Atomic Particle registers? And push a car to the wall?
HANK
Push? Maybe pull.
Kerry's eyes pop, his fingers snap and his voice booms.
KERRY
Push or pull? A magnetic ray! A very very powerful superly condensed, highly concentrated magnetic ray projected toward a two thousand pound car.
HANK
(puzzled)
A laser magnet? But there’s not such thing.
KERRY
I think there is now.
HANK
Pin pointed to one short quick blast and zam blam another spot on the wall. And none of our equipment registers magnetism.
KERRY
(jumps up)
A laser magnet would have to draw quite a massive amount of electricity. Connect to the Power Company computer. Have our computer run a monitored building wattage display for a large short-term usage over that entire section of highway.
Hank begins typing in the instructions.
The printer clangs its answer. And Hank tears loose the report, eyes the pages, then circles some of the numbers.
HANK
We got a live one. The Power Company records over 20,000 kilowatts used from 7-8 p.m. on each of the crash nights.
KERRY
That could be the place.
HANK
It’s at #4 Logan Place, a John Smythe, happens to be a television-radio repairman.
KERRY
Television and radio. Got the phone number?
HANK
Yea. 555-1234. Hay, that number is on each victims’ phone records.
KERRY
That clenches it. Have Chicago P.D. pick him up.
FADE OUT
45. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Monday, 19 July 1986, 9:35 p.m.)
The printer clanks and Hank knocks the coffee cup from his lap to the floor.
One of the broken pieces flies through the air and nicks Kerry on the knee. In reaching for the pain, he bumps into his own cup. It too, crashes against the floor. Kerry peers over the desk's edge in disbelief.
Hank ups and lumbers to the wall closet, takes the mop free and takes it to Kerry.
HANK
Here's the mop.
Kerry slowly looks from the broken pieces to Hank.
KERRY
What's on the printer?
Hank cracks a grin, then lumbers to the printer. Looks at the new message, tears it free and lumbers back to Kerry holding the report close to his face.
KERRY
Well, what does it say?
HANK
Chicago 9:28pm. A SWAT team stormed #4 Logan Place. They found an array of televisions and radios in various states of repair. The basic kitchen and bathroom. In a padlocked side room, was a wall of speakers and blank note pads. Behind another padlocked door were twenty D.C. batteries linked in parallel with wires sniped at the A.C. window socket. The neighbors reported a white van left ten minutes prior to the SWAT team.
Kerry sits back against the wall, scratches his chin.
KERRY
Cut wires by the window? He took the laser and ran. Must have had the police channel monitored.
Hank nods and hands the mop to him.
KERRY
(frowns)
Not now, we still have some investigating to do. A laser means an electronic genius. Let's check those personal effects again.
Hank places the mop against the table, kicks the broken pieces to the corner then follows Kerry to the lab.
DISSOLVE
Hank and Kerry are standing beside a long table that has open cardboard boxes upon it.
Hank is holding up a small electronic microphone.
HANK
It's amazing how this small bug can send and receive. That's how the Magnet knew they were criminals.
KERRY
Yes Hank, an ingenious scheme. Disguised as a TV-Radio repairman, our vigilante Magnet was able to screen his customers, then lured them to their end.
HANK
Judge, jury and executioner. And fooled the press by doing them in at the same time, the same place and in the same manner. The dead zone and no suspects. A brilliant plan.
KERRY
Ingenious. Have Chicago send his prints ASAP.
Hank lumbers to the printer and types the instructions.
HANK
Do you think this Magnet has done this elsewhere?
KERRY
(scratches chin)
Maybe. We’re in a new department and these accidents might have gone unsolved and forgotten except for us. Have the computer scan all accident reports over the last five years for similar patterns.
Hank turns to the computer terminal and types in the instructions. Then he ups and lumbers to Kerry, holding the mop out.
KERRY
It's late. Maybe tomorrow.
FADE OUT
46. INT. WASHINGTON, D.C. FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
HEADQUARTERS, UNUSUAL CRIME UNIT
(Tuesday, 20 July 1986, 10:00 a.m.)
Hank is leaning over the printer, reading as it prints.
Kerry is at the coffee machine. He fills two cups then takes one to Hank.
KERRY
Here's your coffee. Where's that report from?
Hank reaches for the cup with his left hand, while reading the report in his right hand.
HANK
The first one is from Chicago, no fingerprints in the Magnet's apartment, only the customer victims.
KERRY
What?
Surprised, Kerry jerks away his hand. And the cup slips between their hands, crashing and splattering hot coffee on both their legs.
Kerry yelps and they both stumbles aback.
Hank catches Kerry's his coat tails and Kerry grabs the printer, securing his balance but dropping the second cup.
Hank looks at Kerry, then at the broken cups, smiles and points to the wall closet.
HANK
There are two cups left on the shelf. This time you mop.
KERRY
(grins)
Where is the other report from?
Kerry takes it to his desk. Leans back in his chair, reading over the report.
KERRY
The main computer has found eight other cities with similar 'magnet' auto wall accidents, ranging from three to seven within a two-week period. All the victims were criminal elements. The deaths ending as mysteriously as they began. No convictions, no suspects.
Hank types on his computer keyboard and the large U.S. map drops from the ceiling. The map then illuminates the various cities of ‘magnet’ accidents.
He then lumbers to the wall closet and extracts the mop. He takes it over to Kerry, handing it forward he grins at him.
HANK
Where next the Magnet?
### the end.
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