SEVEN
by Andrew Kevin Walker
8/8/94
1 INT. OLD HOUSE -- DAY 1
Sunlight comes through the soot on the windows, more brown than
bright. SOMERSET, 45, stands in one corner of this small,
second-story room. He looks over the ceiling, looks down at the
worn wooden floors, looks at the peeling wallpaper.
He walks to the center of the room, continues his study, taking
his time. He halts, turns to one wall where the current
wallpaper is torn away to reveal flowery wallpaper underneath.
Somerset goes to this wall and runs his finger across one of the
pale, red roses which decorates the older paper. He pushes the
grime away, brings the rose out more clearly.
He reaches into his suit pocket and takes out a switchblade. He
flips the thin, lethal blade free. Working deliberately,
delicately, Somerset cuts a square around the rose, then peels
the square of dry wallpaper away from the wall. He studies it in
his hand.
2 EXT. OLD HOUSE -- DAY 2
Somerset stands in front of the old home. He looks out at the
surrounding farms and forests. He ponders something. Birds
sing.
MAN (O.S.)
Is something wrong?
Somerset does not respond, just stares off. The MAN, 34, wears a
real-estate broker's jacket and stands beside a FOR SALE sign in
the muddy lawn.
MAN
Is there something the matter?
Somerset turns to face the man, then looks back at the house.
SOMERSET
No. No... it's just that everything here
seems... so strange.
MAN
Strange? There's nothing strange about
this place. The house'll need a little
fixing up, that's for sure...
SOMERSET
No. I like the house, and this place.
MAN
I was about to say. Cause this place is
about as normal as places get.
Somerset nods, taking a deep breath. He smiles.
SOMERSET
That's what I mean. Strange.
Somerset looks back to the beautiful landscape. The man does not
understand.
3 INT. AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY 3
Somerset is in the window seat, looking out the window of the
speeding train, smoking a cigarette. He is near the back of the
car, away from the few other passengers.
Outside, farms, fields, small homes and lawns rush by. The
panorama is dappled by the rays of the soon to be setting sun.
4 INT. AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY 4
The train is almost full, moving slower. Somerset has his
suitcase on the aisle seat beside him. He holds a hardcover book
unopened on his lap. He still stares out the window, but his
face is tense. The train is passing an ugly, swampy field. The
sun has gone under.
Though it seems impossible it ever could have gotten there, a
car's burnt-out skeleton sits rusting in the bracken.
Ahead, the city waits. The sky is full of smokestacks and huge
industrial cranes.
5 INT. AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY 5
The train is passing urban streets below. Slums and smashed
cars. People stand in groups in the corners. Bleak.
Somerset's suitcase is now on the window seat. Somerset has
moved to the aisle. He is reading his book. He looks up from
the book and rubs his eyes, then looks back to continue reading,
not once looking out the window.
6 EXT. CITY STREET -- NIGHT 6
Somerset carries his suitcase outside the train station. The
city demands attention: cars screeching, people yelling, sirens
blaring.
Somerset passes a family of bewildered tourists. A WEIRD MAN has
a hand on the tourist-father's suitcase.
It has become a tugging match with the Weird Man shouting, +-*/I'll
take you to a taxi... I'll take you.+-*/ Ahead, a group is gathered
on the sidewalk near two ambulances. People clamor to get a look
at a BLOODY BODY which lies on the street.
Policeman try to hold the crowd off. Ambulance attendants
administer aid to the victim, who convulses. Somerset moves by,
ignoring it all. He motions for a cab. One pulls up from the
street's stream of vehicles.
7 INT. CAB -- NIGHT 7
Somerset throws his suitcase in and shuts the door behind him.
CAB DRIVER
(about the crowd)
What's the big fuss?
Somerset looks out at the crowd, looks at the driver.
SOMERSET
Why do you care?
CAB DRIVER
(under his breath)
Well, excuse me all to hell.
The driver leans forward, checking it out. The circle of
spectators shifts suddenly. A man has shoved another man and
they're really going at it now. The swing at each other and tear
at each other's clothing. One man's flailing fist connects and
the other man's face is instantly bloodied. The fight grows even
more spastic. Policemen try to stop it.
CAB DRIVER
Crazy fucks.
The driver pulls away and the cab rages down the street.
Somerset watches the parade of neon passing on the avenue. He
slumps back in the seat and closes his eyes.
CAB DRIVER
Where you headed?
Somerset opens his eyes.
SOMERSET
Far away from here.
8 INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT 8
The curtains are closed. The SOUNDS of the CITY are here as they
will be everywhere in this story. A CAR ALARM is SOUNDING,
shrill and clear. Somerset's life is packed into moving boxes,
except for some clothing in a closet and hundreds and hundreds of
books on the shelves of one wall. Somerset is lying on the bed,
dressed only in his underwear.
He reaches to the nightstand, to a wooden, pyramidical metronome.
He frees the metronome's weighted swingarm so it moves back and
forth. Swings to the left -- TICK, swings to the right -- TICK.
Tick... tick... tick... measured and steady.
Somerset situates on the bed, closes his eyes. Tick... tick...
tick. The metronome's sound competes with the sound of the car
alarm. Somerset's face tightens as he concentrates on the
metronome. His eyes close tighter. Tick... tick... tick. The
swingarm moves evenly. Somerset's breathing deepens.
Tick... tick... tick. The car alarm seems quieter.
Tick... tick... tick. Somerset continues his concentration. The
metronome's sound seems louder.
Tick... tick... tick. The sound of the car alarm fades, and is
GONE. The metronome is the only sound.
Somerset's face relaxes as he begins to fall asleep. Tick...
tick... tick...
INSERT -- TITLE CARD
SUNDAY
9 INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- MORNING 9
Somerset picks items off a moving box: his keys, wallet,
switchblade, gold homicide badge. Finally, he opens the
hardcover book he had with him on the train. From the pages, he
takes the pale, paper rose.
10 INT. TENEMENT APARTMENT -- DAY 10
Somerset stands before a wall which is stained by a star-burst of
blood. A body lies on the floor under a sheet. A sawed-off
shotgun lies not far from the body. The apartment is gloomy.
DETECTIVE TAYLOR, 52, stands on the other side of the room, looks
through a notepad.
TAYLOR
Neighbors heard them screaming at each
other for like two hours. It was nothing
new. But, then they heard the gun go off.
Both barrels.
SOMERSET
Did the wife confess?
TAYLOR
When the patrolman came she was trying
put his head back together. She was crying
too hard to say anything.
Somerset beings walking around the apartment.
SOMERSET
Why always like this? Only after the
fact... this sudden realization, that if
you shoot someone, or stick a knife in
them, that person will cease to exist.
TAYLOR
Crime of passion.
SOMERSET
Yes. Look at all the passion splattered up
on the wall here.
TAYLOR
This is a done deal. All but the
paperwork.
Taylor shifts his weight, impatient. Somerset looks at a
coloring book open on the coffee table. There are crayons beside
it. Somerset picks the book up, flips through the pages.
SOMERSET
Did their son see it happen?
TAYLOR
I don't know.
Taylor closes his notebook, perturbed. Somerset looks at the
pictures of cute, crudely colored animals.
TAYLOR
What kind of fucking question is that
anyway?
Taylor walks over and grabs the coloring book to get his
attention.
TAYLOR
You know, we're all real glad we're getting
rid of you, Somerset. You know that? I
mean, it's always these questions with
you... +-*/Did the kid see it?+-*/ Well, who
gives a fuck? Huh?
(points)
He's dead. His wife killed him.
Taylor throws the coloring book back to Somerset and walks.
TAYLOR
Anything else has nothing to do with us.
Taylor leaves, pushing past DETECTIVE DAVID MILLS, 31, who is
just entering. Mills is muscular and handsome. He looks back at
Taylor, then around the apartment, a bit disoriented.
Somerset puts down the coloring book. He stares at the floor,
showing no reaction to Taylor's tantrum.
MILLS
Uh, Lieutenant Somerset?
Somerset turns to see Mills.
11 EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY 11
A body bag is carried through a crowd of people outside the
tenement building.
Somerset follows the body bag out and Mills follows Somerset.
They walk towards the end of the filthy block, past a man
urinating on a car.
MILLS
I'm a little thrown. I just got in town
like twenty minutes ago and they dumped me
here.
SOMERSET
Since we're just starting out, I thought we
could go to a bar... sit and talk for
awhile. After that, we'll...
MILLS
(interrupting)
Actually, if it's all the same, I'd like to
get to the precinct house a.s.a.p. Seeing
how we don't have much time for this whole
transition thing.
Somerset keeps walking, says nothing.
MILLS
I need to start getting the feel of it all,
right? Meet the people.
SOMERSET
I meant to ask you something, Mills, when
we spoke on the phone. I can't help
wondering... why here?
MILLS
I... I don't follow.
SOMERSET
All this effort you've made to get
transferred, it's the first question that
pops into my head.
MILLS
I'm here for the same reasons as you, I
guess. Or, at least, the same reasons you
used to have for being here before...
before you decided to... quit.
Somerset stops and faces Mills.
SOMERSET
You just met me.
MILLS
Maybe I'm not understanding the question.
SOMERSET
It's very simple. You worked a nice, quiet
town, but you fought to get here as if your
life depended on it. I've just never seen
it done that way before, Detective.
MILLS
Maybe I thought I could do more good here
than there. I don't know. Look, it'd be
great by me if we didn't start right off
kicking each other in the balls. But,
you're calling the shots, Lieutenant, so...
however you want it to go.
SOMERSET
Let me tell you how I want this to go. I
want you to look, and I want you to listen.
MILLS
I wasn't standing around guarding the local
Taco Bell. I've worked homicide for five
and a half years.
SOMERSET
Not here.
MILLS
I realize that.
SOMERSET
Well, over the next seven days, do me the
favor of remembering it.
Somerset turns and walks away. Mills stands a moment, pissed.
He follows after Somerset.
INSERT -- TITLE CARD
MONDAY
12 INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- EARLY MORNING 12
Somerset lies asleep in bed. It is still dark outside. The
PHONE beside the inactive metronome RINGS. Somerset awakens
suddenly, startled. He looks towards the phone.
13 INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- EARLY MORNING 13
It is just barely becoming light outside. Mills is wide awake in
bed beside the sleeping form of his wife, TRACY, 30. Mills looks
tired. He listens to passing traffic. He covers his eyes with
his forearm.
He takes his arm away and sits up, frustrated, sits on the edge
of the bed. The room is a shambles, filled with moving boxes.
Light coming through the window glows upon a football trophy
sticking from one box.
Large and noble, a golden player stands in frozen motion at the
trophy's pinnacle.
Mills looks at the trophy and a fond smile forms on his face.
The PHONE RINGS. Mills looks towards it. Tracy awakens. She
looks up with half-opened eyes, a beautiful woman.
TRACY
What is it?
Phone rings. Mills reaches to touch Tracy's shoulder.
MILLS
It's okay.
Mills leans to get the phone. Tracy seems frightened.
TRACY
Honey... where are we?
14 EXT. APARTMENT BUILDING, ALLEYWAY -- EARLY MORNING 14
Somerset and Mills, both wearing badges, walk with OFFICER DAVIS,
a beefy, uniformed cop. They pass police cars and head into a
trash strewn alleyway. Davis hands Somerset two flashlights.
DAVIS
Everything's like I found it. I didn't
touch anything.
SOMERSET
What time did you confirm the death?
DAVIS
Like I said, I didn't touch him, but he's
had his face in a plate of spaghetti for
about forty-five minutes now.
They reach a rusty, side door, which Davis pulls open.
15 INT. APARTMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- EARLY MORNING 15
They enter a dark, ugly stairwell.
MILLS
(to Davis)
Hold on... you mean you didn't check for
vital signs?
DAVIS
Did I stutter? Believe me, he ain't
breathing, unless he's started breathing
spaghetti sauce.
MILLS
The point is, whenever you find...
DAVIS
Begging your pardon, but the guy's sitting
in pile of his own shit and piss. If he
ain't dead, he would've stood up by now.
Mills is angry, about to speak, but Somerset heads him off.
SOMERSET
(to Davis)
Thank you, officer. We'll need to talk to
you again, after we've looked around.
DAVIS
Yes, sir.
Davis walks out, eyeing Mills. Mills watches him go. The rusty
door slams shut behind Davis. It's very dark. Somerset turns on
his flashlight, hands the other to Mills and starts upstairs.
SOMERSET
I wonder what exactly was the point of the
conversation you were about to get into?
MILLS
And I wonder how many times Officer Davis
there has found a dead man who wasn't
really dead until Davis was in the car
calling it in and eating a donut.
SOMERSET
Drop it.
MILLS
For now.
16 INT. APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING 16
Somerset comes from the stairwell, looking down the dark hall.
At the end of the hall, a door is open. The light of a CAMERA
FLASH spills out from that room every few seconds.
Mills and Somerset move on. Somerset takes out rubber gloves and
slips them on, looking at something on the floor ahead. A yellow
RECYCLING BIN sits just outside the door. It contains many neat,
string-bound stacks of issues of READER'S DIGEST.
17 INT. APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- EARLY MORNING 17
There are lights on in this room. Lamps with dusty shades. A
few porn mags on a table. Somerset and Mills cross. A couch
against one wall is piled with yellowed, once white pillows. It
faces two small televisions, both on with no sound.
18 INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- EARLY MORNING 18
Somerset and Mills enter, using their flashlights in the dark.
Mills takes out a handkerchief, covering his nose. ERIC is
crouched on the floor, putting camera equipment away.
He's wearing a medical mask over his face. He hoists his bag and
moves past the detectives.
ERIC
Enjoy.
Eric leaves. Somerset sweeps the room with his flashlight...
At the stove, each burner has a used pot or pan on it. Food has
been slopped there and on the adjoining counter-top and sink.
Used utensils are everywhere, along with empty tin cans and jars.
Cockroaches swarm.
The flashlight beam follows a trail of dripped sauces, soups and
crumbs of food across the floor from the stove to a kitchen
table. The kitchen table is covered in soiled paper plates which
hold bits of half-eaten sandwiches, potatoes, beef stew, donuts
and many other junk foods.
The kitchen is tiny; barely enough room for three people. The
kitchen table is at the center of the room. An OBESE MAN is
slumped forward in a kitchen chair. He is face down dead in a
plate of spaghetti.
MILLS
Christ... somebody phone Guiness. I think
we've got a World's Record here.
Mills walks to the dead man, leaning to study, without touching.
MILLS
Who said this was murder?
SOMERSET
No one yet.
MILLS
Then, why are we wasting our time? This
guy's heart's got to be roughly the size of
a canned ham. If this isn't a coronary, I
don't know what is.
Somerset moves his flashlight beam down the obese corpse, stops
at the man's feet. Somerset kneels.
At the obese man's pants cuff, there's a tiny bit of rope
sticking out. Somerset uses a pen to lift the pants leg. Rope
is tied around the swollen, purple ankle.
MILLS
Or not.
Somerset stands and steps back. Mills bends to take his place,
looking under the table and shining his flashlight into the
corpse's lap. The obese man's bloated hands are folded there,
bound tightly with rope.
MILLS
Still... he could have tied himself up, to
make it look like murder. I saw a guy
once... committed suicide, but wanted to
make sure his family could collect the life
insurance, right?
Somerset does not listen. He is focused on the corpse, studies
the back of the man's head and neck. He runs his pen against the
back of the corpse's neck, combing the hair upwards.
There are small circular and semi-circular BRUISES on the back of
the obese man's head and neck, some hidden under the hair.
MILLS
When we found him, he was lying there with
a knife in his back, so what else could it
be but homicide? Except, I finally figured
out... he held the knife behind him... put
the tip of it in his own back and got real
close to the wall... then he shoved his
body backwards...
SOMERSET
(irritated)
Please be quiet for a while, would you?
Mills looks up at Somerset from below. Somerset remains focused
on the bruises.
MILLS
(sarcastic)
Oh, yes, sir. Forgive me.
Mills stands and walks around to the other side of the table,
where he gets down again.
MILLS
There's a bucket here.
SOMERSET
What?
MILLS
There's a bucket. Under the table.
Somerset crouches, pulls up the cheap tablecloth on his side of
the table. A METAL BUCKET sits under the table.
SOMERSET
What is it?
Mills slides under with his flashlight, angling in the confined
space to look. He is repulsed and pulls back.
MILLS
It's vomit.
Mills stands and backs away, near the refrigerator, not wanting
to be anywhere near that bucket.
MILLS
It's a bucket of vomit.
SOMERSET
Is there any blood in it?
MILLS
I don't know. Feel free to look for
yourself, okay?
Somerset stands, stares at the obese man. He shakes his head,
perplexed. There is a KNOCK at the door. The detectives look to
see DOCTOR THOMAS O'NEILL, 52, the medical examiner, in the
doorway. O'Neill is looking at the ceiling. He flicks the lighs
switch. No light, so he flicks the switch up and down.
O'NEILL
Wonderful.
O'Neill seems a bit gone. He drops his black bag onto the floor
beside the corpse. he begins to sort through the bag, surgical
tools clinking together.
Mills turns to open the refrigerator. It's nearly empty.
MILLS
(to Somerset)
You think it was poison?
SOMERSET
Guessing at this point is useless.
The trash can beside the refrigerator is filled to the brim with
empty food containers. Mills begins to poke around with a pen.
O'NEILL
You girls have got forensics waiting
outside. I don't know if we'll all fit
though.
MILLS
There's room. Light's the problem.
Somerset looks at Mills, then at the space limitations.
SOMERSET
Still... two is company here. And, three
is certainly a crowd.
(pause)
Detective Mills, go help the officers
question the neighbors.
Mills looks up, not pleased.
MILLS
I'd rather stay on this.
Somerset is looking at the corpse.
SOMERSET
Send one of the forensics in on your way
out.
Mills does not move. He lifts his flashlight to shine the light
on the side of Somerset's face. A moment. Somerset looks at
Mills, the light shining directly in Somerset's eyes. A longer
moment. Mills switches off the light and leaves.
O'Neill places both hands on the dead man's head and lifts the
swollen visage from the spaghetti.
O'NEILL
He is dead.
SOMERSET
Thank you, Doctor.
19 INT. SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY 19
Somerset drives with Mills as the passenger. Heavy city traffic.
Both stare ahead in silence. Mills is a bundle of nerves.
MILLS
You've seen my files, right? Seen the
things I've done?
SOMERSET
No.
MILLS
(looking out window)
Anyway... I did my time on door-to-doors,
and walking a beat. I did all that shit
for a long time.
SOMERSET
Good.
MILLS
The badge in my pocket says +-*/detective,+-*/
same as yours.
SOMERSET
I made a decision, because I have to
consider the integrity of the scene. I
can't worry whether you think you're
getting enough time on the playing field.
MILLS
Yeah, well, all I want is...
(pause)
Just, just don't be jerking me off. That's
all I ask. Don't jerk me off.
Mills looks at Somerset. Somerset keeps his eyes on the road,
but nods slightly. That said, Mills slumps low into his seat.
SOMERSET
We'll be spending every waking hour
together till I leave. I'll show you who
your friends are, and your enemies. I'll
help you cut through the red tape and I
will help you +-*/integrate,+-*/ as the captain
puts it. However...
(pauses, clears throat)
No matter how much you beg or plead...
jerking off is something you'll have to do
for yourself.
This throws Mills. Somerset has a sense of humour?
SOMERSET
Is that clear?
MILLS
Okay... sure... It's just that, with my
old partner, you know...
SOMERSET
I just don't think we should have that sort
of relationship. We'd start quarreling
over insignificant things.
Mills lets out a nervous laugh, feels a bit of weight off his
shoulders.
MILLS
Whatever you say, Detective. Beautiful.
20 INT. AUTOPSY ROOM -- DAY 20
The room is large, cold and clean. Stainless steel and white
tile. Many pathologists work at slabs. A bone saw screams.
Mills and Somerset are with DOCTOR SANTIAGO, who stands over the
obese corpse which is pretty well dissected already.
SANTIAGO
He's been dead for a long time, and I can
tell you it was not a poison.
Santiago moves to make room for Mills to stand beside him. Mills
moves up a little, but not much, looking on in disgust. Santiago
reaches into the man's belly. We do not see.
MILLS
Ah, man... how does somebody let himself go
like that? Look at the blubber.
Santiago moves something and there is a squashy sound.
SANTIAGO
It took four orderlies and me all together
just to put this body on the table.
MILLS
How did the fat fuck ever fit out the door
of his apartment?
SOMERSET
Yes, it's obvious he was a shut-in. Not an
enviable life, but, maybe he still deserves
a modicum of respect in spite of that.
SANTIAGO
Are you looking here? First... see how big
this stomach is. And, see the strange
thing. Stretches. And, here it is
distended. Look at the size of that,
because of all the foods.
MILLS
I can see what you're pointing at, but...
SANTIAGO
Lines of distention across the stomach, and
parts have ripped open.
SOMERSET
(disbelief)
Doctor, are you saying... this man ate till
he burst?
SANTIAGO
Well, he didn't really burst. Not all the
way. But, he was bleeding inside himself,
and there is a hematoma on the outside, on
the belly. Very large.
MILLS
He died by eating?
SANTIAGO
Yes. And, there's something else here you
have to look at and see.
Santiago goes to root through many jars on a table. Somerset
walks around the slab, looking down at the obese man's propped
up, partially shaved head.
SOMERSET
These bruises on the victim's head...
More round and semi-circular bruises have been revealed, all
about the same diameter as a dime.
SANTIAGO
I don't kow what they are yet. They...
SOMERSET
They could have been caused by a gun. The
barrel of a gun... pressed against the back
of his head.
Santiago picks up the jar he was looking for, comes to lean and
look at the obese man's head, nodding again.
SANTIAGO
If it was jammed against him hard enough,
sure. It's possible. Here...
Santiago gives the jar to Somerset.
SANTIAGO
Most of the stomach's food contents are in
the lab now.... but, these... I found these
in his stomach too.
Somerset holds the jar up. Inside are many little pieces of blue
plastic. They are curled slightly, as if they are scrapings.
Somerset hands the jar to Mills. Mills shakes it, studying.
MILLS
Plastic?
SANTIAGO
Why these are in a fat man's stomach, I
don't know.
21 INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- DAY 21
The room where the obese corpse was found is now lit by
fluorescent light. Two forensics, a MALE and FEMALE, are dusting
for prints. Somerset and Mills are on their hands and knees.
Somerset holds the jar and touches the linoleum floor.
SOMERSET
Same color and texture.
MILLS
(to forensics)
Have you found any plastic scrapings near
the stove or sink? Near the food?
MALE FORENSIC
What do you mean?
Mills and Somerset continue looking around the floor.
MILLS
(to Somerset)
This doesn't make any sense.
SOMERSET
You always have to find one singular thing
to focus on. There's always one thing, and
it may be as small as a speck of dust, but
you find it and focus... till it's an
exhausted possibility.
The forensics watch, curious. Somerset is near the refrigerator.
MILLS
It could be nothing.
SOMERSET
But, why would there be so many pieces in
his stomach if it were nothing? It must
have been intentional.
Somerset stops. There are deep scratches here in the linoleum.
He fingers the grooves, then takes a piece of the plastic from
the jar. He holds the piece to the floor, fiddles... fits it
into one of the scratches.
Somerset gets off the floor and looks down. These scratches are
in front of the refrigerator. it looks like they were caused by
the refrigerator having been pulled away from the wall and pushed
back into place at some time.
SOMERSET
(to Mills)
Come here.
22 INT. APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- LATER DAY 22
Mills and Somerset pull the refrigerator, rocking it back and
forth away from the wall to get a clear view behind it. They
strain, pull it a few more feet, and release.
Mills leans to look at the wall behind. Shock.
MILLS
Holy shit.
Somerset comes to look. Behind the refrigerator, there is a
space on the wall where the dust has been wiped away. In that
space, the words: ONE IS GLUTTONY. The letters have been
smeared on in grease. A NOTE is pinned beside them.
23 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, CAPTAIN'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING 23
The captain's office is filled with pictures, books and
mugsheets. Piles of paperwork abound, yet the office is
meticulously well kept. The CAPTAIN, 50, sits at his tidy desk.
He wears a white shirt and conservative tie.
He's a calm man, but whenever he is not speaking, without fail,
he clenches his jaw over and over, causing the muscles in his
neck and jaw to pulse. Somerset and Mills sit before him.
SOMERSET
The bruises were caused by the muzzle of a
forty-five. So, there was a gun against
his head and he was given a choice. Eat,
or get your brains blown out.
Somerset gets up to pace.
SOMERSET
He ate his fill, and was forced to continue
eating... till his body rejected the food.
the killer held a bucket under him, and
then kept serving. He took his time. The
coroner says this might have gone on for
more than twelve hours. The victim's
throat was swollen from the effort, and
there was probably a point where he passed
out. That's when killer kicked him in the
stomach. Popped him.
MILLS
This was one sadistic motherfucker.
CAPTAIN
That seems obvious.
Somerset picks up a photocopy of the NOTE from behind the fridge.
SOMERSET
(reads)
+-*/Dear Detectives, Long is the way, and
hard, that out of hell leads up to light.+-*/
It's the murderer's way of announcing
himself.
CAPTAIN
Announcing what?
SOMERSET
There are seven deadly sins. Gluttony,
wrath, greed...
CAPTAIN
So what? This victim...
SOMERSET
... envy, sloth, pride and lust. Seven.
CAPTAIN
Hey, so gluttony is one of the seven deadly
sins. But, this was a fat guy. The killer
may have felt this was the just best way to
torture him.
(MORE)
CAPTAIN (cont'd)
And, writing on the walls happens all the
time. It's like the fashionable thing to
do.
SOMERSET
ONE is gluttony.
The captain is disgruntled, clenching his jaw, looks at Mills.
MILLS
This is his stuff. I've been out in the
cold all day.
SOMERSET
This is a premeditated puzzle, and it's
only the beginning.
CAPTAIN
Always working up there, huh, Somerset?
Big brain's always cooking.
Somerset sits.
SOMERSET
I'm declining this case. I want us
reassigned.
MILLS
Whoa, whoa... what?!
CAPTAIN
What's this: +-*/I'm declining this case?+-*/ It
don't work that way.
SOMERSET
This can't be my last duty here. It will
go on and on.
CAPTAIN
I know what you're thinking, okay? You
don't want to get in bed with this every
night, but it's different now. You're
retiring. In six days you're all the way
gone.
Somerset shakes his head.
CAPTAIN
You've left unfinished business before.
SOMERSET
Everything else was taken as close to
conclusion as humanly possible. Also...
this shouldn't be his first assignment.
MILLS
This isn't my first assignment, dickhead.
What the hell?
Mills stands, furious.
CAPTAIN
I don't have anyone else to give this to,
Somerset, you know that. And nobody's
going to swap with you.
MILLS
Give it to me.
CAPTAIN
How's that?
MILLS
There's nothing that says I have to work
with him. If Somerset wants out,
+-*/goodbye.+-*/ Give it to me.
The captain considers this.
SOMERSET
It's too soon for him.
MILLS
(to the captain)
Can we talk about this in private?
The captain looks at Somerset, then at Mills.
CAPTAIN
That's not necessary. You're in.
MILLS
Thank you.
CAPTAIN
Go start picking up the pieces. We'll
shuffle some paper and try to get you a new
partner.
Mills looks at Somerset, then leaves, closing the door. Somerset
seems deflated, staring at the floor. He looks at the captain.
CAPTAIN
You win, Somerset. You're out.
INSERT -- TITLE CARD
TUESDAY
24 EXT. CITY STREET -- DAY 24
A newspaper vendor lays out a pile of tabloid newspapers at the
front of his busy newsstand.
The papers' headline is: BIZARRE MURDER!, in huge, black print.
The vendor lays out another tabloid pile. Headline: +-*/EAT OR DIE+-*/
SAYS GLUTTONY KILLER!!, in big, red letters.
The vendor throws down a third tabloid stack. SICKENING
MURDER -- EXCLUSIVE DETAILS INSIDE!, it reads.
25 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY 25
The office is old, with a single window which faces a billboard.
TRAFFIC is HEARD from outside. There are moving boxes on the
floor. Somerset is at his desk with paperwork in two sloppy
piles. He uses a manual typewriter, filling in a yellow form.
He types hunt-and-peck, slowly. He finsihes the form and pulls
it out. There is a knock at the door.
SOMERSET
Come in.
The captain pushes the door and stands in the doorway with a
PAINTER/WORKMAN at his side.
CAPTAIN
Excuse us. We have some business to take
care of.
As always, the neatly groomed captain clenches his jaw.
Somerset lines a new form in the typewriter, starts typing.
The captain strolls in. Two boxes sit on the floor with
DETECTIVE MILLS written across them. He picks up one of the
boxes and sets it on top of the other.
At the open door, the workman takes a razor blade from his kit.
He brings it against the writing on the glass of the door:
DETECTIVE SOMERSET. The workman pushes the razor to start
scraping the name away, and the razor on glass sounds like
fingernails on a blackboard.
Somerset looks up.
WORKMAN
Sorry.
Somerset turns back to the typing, hunt-and-peck. The captain
watches. The workman continues.
CAPTAIN
Have you heard?
SOMERSET
(not looking up)
No, I haven't heard.
CAPTAIN
There was a second.
Somerset stops, looks at the captain.
SOMERSET
Already.
CAPTAIN
Greed. It was written in blood.
Somerset thinks about this, then turns to type.
SOMERSET
It's none of my business anymore.
CAPTAIN
I thought you might want to be filled in.
SOMERSET
I'm sure everyone's doing their best.
CAPTAIN
Yeah.
SOMERSET
Good.
Hunt-and-peck. The captain's jowls clamp. He steps up to
Somerset's desk, begins to straighten the two piles of forms.
CAPTAIN
Come on. What are you going to do with
yourself out there?
SOMERSET
I'll get a job, maybe on a farm. I'll work
on the house.
CAPTAIN
Can't you feel it yet? Can't you feel that
feeling... ? You're not going to be a cop
anymore.
SOMERSET
What are you talking about?
CAPTAIN
You know.
Somerset reclines, facing the captain.
SOMERSET
Did you read in the paper today, about the
man who was walking his dog? he was
attacked, and his wallet and his watch
were taken. And then, while he was still
lying unconscious, his attacker stabbed him
with a knife in both eyes. It happened
four blocks from here.
CAPTAIN
I heard.
SOMERSET
I have no understanding of this place
anymore.
CAPTAIN
It's always been like this.
SOMERSET
Really?
Somerset saddles up to the typewriter.
SOMERSET
Maybe you're right.
The captain lays the paperwork down. Both piles are now neat.
CAPTAIN
You do this work. You were made for it,
and I don't think you can deny that. I
certainly can't believe you're trading it
in for a tool belt and a fishing rod.
(pause, walks to leave)
Maybe I'm wrong.
The captain leaves. Somerset looks up. He grabs the paperwork
piles and ruffles them back to their disheveled state. He looks
up at the workman.
The workman is looking at Somerset, has a rag in his hand to
remove the last remnants of Somerset's name.
SOMERSET
(angrily)
Try putting a little elbow grease into it.
The workman is startled, continues his work.
26 INT. SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATE NIGHT 26
There is a dart board on one wall. THWACK -- Somerset's
switchblade hits the board and embeds.
Somerset crosses the nearly empty living room and takes the blade
from the dart board. He walks back to stand in front of the only
chair in the room. He throws the switchblade.
It embeds in the dart board. Somerset sits.
He picks a book off the floor and holds it in his lap. KIDS can
be HEARD CURSING and playing LOUD MUSIC from outside the
shuttered window. Somerset stares at the ceiling. He opens the
book and looks at the pages... stares at the pages...
He puts the book back down on the floor.
27 EXT. CITY STREET -- LATE NIGHT 27
Somerset gets out of his car. He walks down the sidewalk with a
notebook in hand. THUNDER is HEARD. He takes a cigarette out of
a full pack and lights it.
He walks along the avenue. Cars race by in the street. People
walk briskly past. At a public phone, a man shouts curses
angrily into the phone, then starts pounding the phone box with
the receiver. A fire engine passes in the street, sirens, horn
and lights going full blast.
Somerset starts up a flight of massive stone stairs, past several
sleeping vagrants. One VAGRANT sits up and looks to Somerset.
VAGRANT
Spare me a cigarette? Spare a cigarette?
SOMERSET
Sorry, last one.
Ahead of Somerset, the library looms, a solid, powerful
structure.
28 INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATE NIGHT 28
Somerset and GEORGE, 62, the night guard, enter the vast space of
the deserted main library.
The lamps hanging from the ceiling give off a warm, pleasant glow
over mahogany tables and chairs. To each side of this center
area are tall bookshelves. Balconies surround the room on all
four sides; three levels which overlook the center.
Somerset is happy. This is his element, this peaceful, elegant
place. George motions to the long, empty tables.
GEORGE
Sit where you'd like.
SOMERSET
Thanks, George.
MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
Hey there, Smilely.
Somerset looks up to the top balcony where TWO OTHER SECURITY
GUARDS and one JANITOR look over the banister.
SOMERSET
Evening, gentlemen.
They all say their hellos.
FIRST GUARD
Come on, George. Cards are getting cold.
GEORGE
(to Somerset)
Duty calls.
George pumps Somerset's hand, then moves to a stairwell leading
to the balconies. Somerset walks down the main aisle, looks
around at the shelves and shelves of books.
George reaches the top balcony and the others sit at a card table
where a poker game is in progress.
Somerset puts his notebook down on one table and switches on a
green banker's lamp. THUNDER SOUNDS. Somerset looks up.
Rain is beginning to fall on the windows of the high ceiling.
SOMERSET
(shouts up)
All these books, gentlemen... a world of
knowledge at your disposal, and you play
poker all night.
UP ON THE BALCONY
George has taken a huge BOOM-BOX from a broom closet.
JANITOR
We got culture.
SECOND GUARD
(dealing cards)
Yeah, we got culture coming out our asses.
They laugh. George sets the boom-box against the railing of the
balcony so the speakers face towards Somerset.
DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
Somerset has gone into one bookshelf aisle. Poker table
conversation echoes from above. Somerset searches books, reading
spines. He finds one book and pulls it, continues searching.
UP ON THE BALCONY
George hits play on the boom-box and turns the volume way up.
GEORGE
How's this for culture?
DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
Somerset keeps looking for books. From far away come the strains
of MOZART MUSIC filling the air. High, drifting music, such as
AIR (On the G string.) Somerset stops, listens.
He closes his eyes and soaks it in.
UP ON THE BALCONY
George sits at the card table, takes out a cigar and lights up.
He looks to the ground floor.
GEORGE
Where'd you get to, Smilely?
Below, Somerset comes out from the aisle.
DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
Somerset looks up at George.
SOMERSET
Thank you.
29 INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATER NIGHT 29
MUSIC CONTINUES, spinning through the air like a slow, cool
breeze.
Somerset walks, surrounded by books, carrying several. He pulls
another off a shelf and adds it to his pile.
UP ON THE BALCONY
George lays down a winning hand. The others toss in their cards
in disgust. George laughs, spouting cigar smoke.
Cigar smoke floats up in the air, thinning gracefully. Above,
rain continues dancing on the ceiling windows.
DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
Somerset sits, opens a book on the table and reads.
30 INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM/LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT 30
MUSIC CONTINUES, uninterupted over this scene. Music so pretty
it is almost sad. Tracy, in a nightgown, sits up in bed, tense,
She throws off the covers and goes to the door.
She stands looking into the living room where Mills is at a desk.
Mills sorts through paperwork and photos with his back to Tracy.
A basketball game is on the television, but he pays it no mind.
He sits forward, obviously frustrated, drinks coffee. He does
not know Tracy is there.
Tracy watches her husband, concerned.
31 INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- NIGHT 31
MUSIC CONTINUES. Somerset has two books open. He opens his
notebook and brings a pen to bear. Writes:
SEVEN DEADLY SINS
GLUTTONY GREED WRATH LUST PRIDE ENVY SLOTH
He crosses out GLUTTONY and GREED. Somerset picks up one book:
DANTE'S PURGATORY. Volume II of the DIVINE COMEDY. Somerset
opens it:
-------------------------------------------------------------
| THE EARTHLY PARADISE |
|-------------------------------------------------------- /\ |
| / \ |
| VII The Lustful /____\|
| / |
| VI The Gluttonous /_______|
| 7 TERRACES OF / |
| V The Avaricious / |
| and Prodigal /__________|
| PURGATION / |
| / |
| / |
| IV The Slothful /______________|
| / |
| / |
| / |
| III The Wrathful /__________________|
| / |
| II The Envious /____________________|
| / |
| I The Proud /______________________|
| / |
| / |
| / THE ISLAND |
| / |
| / OF PURGATORY |
| / |
|_______________________________/_____________________________|
UP ON THE BALCONY
George and the guys finish another hand. George looks down at
Somerset, who is writing in the notebook. George takes up the
cards and starts shuffling.
GEORGE
(down to Somerset)
You know, Smilely... you're really going to
miss us.
George shuffles again, but they flip wrong and a few go off the
table, over the balcony.
DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
Somerset looks up at George, then looks around.
SOMERSET
I just might.
ABOVE
The cards George dropped are fluttering, flipping downwards.
32 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING 32
The office is dark. Somerset is at his desk, writing:
DETECTIVE MILLS, YOU MAY WANT TO LOOK AT THE FOLLOWING BOOKS,
RELATING TO THE _SEVEN_DEADLY_SINS_:
DANTE'S PURGATORY
THE CANTERBURY TALES -- THE PARSON'S TALE
DICTIONARY OF CATHOLICISM
33 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- LATER EVENING 33
Somerset lays an envelope on top of the two boxes which have
Detective Mills' name on them. The envelope reads: MILLS.
INSERT -- TITLE CARD
WEDNESDAY
34 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- MORNING 34
Somerset pushes the door open and notices +-*/DETECTIVE MILLS+-*/
painted on the glass. Rain falls outside. Somerset goes to his
desk, but stops. All his belongings have been moved to a small,
temporary desk in the corner.
Somerset moves to open the top left drawer of the big desk.
Empty. He goes to the temporary desk and urgently searches
through the boxes of papers and files... finds what he was
looking for. He holds a small frame which fits in his palm.
Inside the frame is a PHOTO of an attractive WOMAN. Somerset
pops the frame open, looks at the picture, then puts the picture
in his wallet.
Somerset sits at the temporary desk. He begins to sort through
his papers. After a moment, he glances over his shoulder. The
envelope he left for Mills is gone.
35 EXT. UPSCALE CITY BLOCK -- MORNING 35
It's raining. At one high-rent office building, many business
men and women are coming and going in a lunch-hour hurry. Just
to one side of the building, the CORONER'S WAGON drives out from
the mouth of the parking garage into the rain. People on the
sidewalk have to stop to let it cross to the street. At the same
time, a large Lincoln Towncar turns off the street, heads into
the bowels of the garage.
36 EXT. UPSCALE BUILDING, UNDERGROUND GARAGE -- MORNING 36
Many police cars and news vans here, and police men and reporters
and photographers everywhere. Mills, looking haggard, finishes a
conversation with a TALL COP by the service elevator.
MILLS
... good. Do it. I'm going back up.
Tall Cop hurries away as Mills pushes repeatedly on the service
elevator button. The elevator doors open and Mills steps in. As
the door are shutting, a COMMOTION is HEARD. Mills stops the
door and looks out.
Across the garage, the Towncar is pulling to a stop and reporters
are rushing to it. FLASHBULBS are FLASHING.
MARTIN TALBOT, 47, impressive and well dressed, steps out of the
car and faces the reporters as they start shouting questions.
In the service elevator, Mills lets the doors slide shut.
37 INT. UPSCALE BUILDING, SERVICE AREA -- MORNING 37
The service elevator opens to a dark physical plant room. Mills
exits the elevator and crosses past humming air-conditioning
vents, dripping pipes and janitor's lockers. To a door...
38 INT. UPSCALE BUILDING, OFFICE CORRIDOR -- MORNING 38
Mills comes out the service area door into a bright, ritzy
hallway. This hall and the doors along it reek of money. A few
cops are standing around. Ahead there's a police line, which
Mills ducks under on his way to stately mahogany doors.
39 INT. LAW OFFICE -- MORNING 39
A huge law office. A television is on in one corner, showing the
news. Windows overlook the rain wet city. Two FORENSICS dust
for prints, whispering to each other when Mills enters.
FORENSIC ONE
(to other forensic)
... going to screw it up. I swear... I've
seen...
The other forensic clears his throat, getting back to work.
Forensic One shuts up. Mills notices this, weary.
MILLS
How's it coming?
FORENSIC ONE
Nothing yet.
Mills watches them a moment, then turns his attention to another
part of the office. A leather chair sits in an open area.
The chair and the carpet under it are covered in a goodly portion
of brown, dried blood.
There is a trail of dripped blood from the chair to a large desk.
On a cleared off section of the desk, a two-armed, counter
balance SCALE sits, also blood stained. The desk has been
dusted. Behind the desk, GREED is written on the wall in blood,
near a modern art painting.
Mills stands staring at this area. The TELEVISION is HEARD:
ANCHOR (v.o.)
(from television)
... going cut in live downtown right now,
where Defense Attorney Eli Gould was found
murdered in his office late last night.
District Attorney Martin Talbot is taking
questions from reporters...
40 ON T.V., Talbot comes on screen, a powerful presence, with a gold 40
tooth in the front of his mouth. It's from down in the garage.
A REPORTER (v.o.)
(from television)
... a small conflict of interest here? I
mean, your prosecutors have lost more than
a few very high profile cases to Mister
Gould and his defense team...
TALBOT (v.o.)
(from television)
Now, that's ridiculous to the point of
almost being offensive. There's no
conflict of interest whatsoever, and any
claim that there would be, or could be, is
irresponsible.
Other reporters begin to shout questions, but Talbot's not done.
TALBOT (v.o.)
Now, hold on... I want to address that.
I've just come from a meeting with law
enforcement officials, and they've assured
me they put their best people on this
thing.
Mills turns to looks at Talbot on the screen.
TALBOT (v.o.)
You just wait and see how quickly we get a
handle on it. This will be the very
definition of swift justice.
Mills walks to turn the t.v. off.
MILLS
(quietly to t.v.)
Shut the fuck up.
He turns and looks to see the forensics looking at him. The
forensics look away.
Mills walks away from the t.v., to a picture frame on the floor.
The frame has been placed specifically in the center of the room,
facing the doors.
It is a photo if a falsely pretty, middle-aged woman, smiling and
wearing pearls. On the glass of the frame, two circles have been
drawn with blood around the woman's eyes.
Mills sits on the floor, stares at the photo.
41 INT. MILLS' CAR -- MORNING 41
Mills gets in and slams the door. He is alone with the sound of
the rain. He wipes water from his face and looks at his tired
eyes in the rear view mirror. He leans over to the glove
compartment and takes out two newly purchased paperbacks: The
Canterbury Tales and Dante's Purgatory.
Mills makes a face and opens Dante's Purgatory to a bookmark. He
rests the book on the steering wheel. He reads.
He bites his lip, leaning close to the words.
He is really concentrating, mouths some of the words to himself.
He finally shakes his head and closes the book, not understanding
a word of it. Pause. He starts pounding the book against the
steering wheel with all his might.
MILLS
Fucking, Dante, goddamn, poetry-writing,
faggot motherfucker...
Mills throws the book against the windshield, then puts his head
back and closes his eyes, trying to calm. A long moment. Quiet.
BANG, BANG, BANG -- there's a loud BANGING on the window and
Mills looks up, startled...
Tall Cop is at the window in rain gear. Mills rolls it rown.
Tall Cop hands a wet paper bag through.
MILLS
Good work, Officer. Good work.
Mills rolls the window up, rips the bag open. Inside: Cliff
Notes for Dante's Purgatory and for The Canterbury Tales.
MILLS
Thank God.
42 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY 42
It still rains outside. Somerset sits at the big desk which is
now Mills'. He fills out form by hand as Mills enters with a ton
of his own paperwork. Somerset looks up.
SOMERSET
(gathers his things)
Let me get out of your way.
Mills sets his paperwork on the desk. He is beat. Somerset
moves to the temporary desk. They both sit and settle in,
organizing, not looking at each other.
Both attend to their work. Here are two men, about five feet
apart, each trying not to acknowledge the other's presence.
Mills takes his Cliff Notes out, looks to see Somerset is
occupied, and hides them in a desk drawer.
Somerset finishes one form, flips it and looks at Mills. Mills
sorts through photos from the greed murder. Somerset continues
writing. PHONE RINGS. Both men look at it. Phone rings again.
SOMERSET
It's a package deal. You get the phone
with the office.
MILLS
(picks up, into phone)
Detective Mills here.
(listens, lowers voice)
Honey... I asked you not to call me here.
I'll call you back...
(listens)
What? Why?
Mills is very confused.
MILLS
(into phone)
Why? Okay... okay, hold on.
Mills clears his throat and holds out the phone to Somerset.
MILLS
It's my wife.
SOMERSET
What?
Mills shrugs. Somerset stands, takes the phone.
SOMERSET
(into phone)
Hello?
(listens)
Yes, well... it's nice to speak to you.
(listens)
Well, I appreciate the thought... but...
(listens)
Then, I guess I'd be delighted. Thank you
very much. Yes... goodbye.
Somerset hangs up, shakes his head.
MILLS
Well?
SOMERSET
I'm invited to have a late supper at your
house. And, I accept.
MILLS
How's that?
SOMERSET
Tonight.
Mills is lost. Somerset goes to sit back down.
MILLS
I don't even know if I'M having dinner
there tonight.
43 INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM/KITCHENETTE -- NIGHT 43
Food is cooking on the stove. Tracy is in the living room area
carefully setting the table with good silver and china.
The door the the apartment is HEARD OPENING and CLOSING. Mills
and Somerset come down a short hallway. Mills carries a brand
new briefcase.
TRACY
Hello, men. You made it.
MILLS
Hi, honey.
Mills gives Tracy a kiss, then presents Somerset.
MILLS
I'd like you to meet Somerset.
SOMERSET
Hello.
Somerset shakes Tracy's hand lightly.
TRACY
It's nice to meet you. My husband has told
me a lot about you... except your first
name.
SOMERSET
Oh... um, William.
TRACY
It's a nice name. William, I'd like you to
meet David.
(to Mills)
David... William.
Mills smiles and nods this off, heading across the room.
MILLS
Great... I'm, uh, just going to put these
things away.
Mills moves to the adjoining bedroom. Somerset stands with his
hands folded in front of him.
SOMERSET
It smells good.
TRACY
What? Oh, yes. I mean, thank you.
(motions to the table)
Please, sit down.
Somerset takes off his jacket. Tracy goes to check on the food.
TRACY
You can put that over on the couch. You'll
have to excuse all the mess. We're still
unpacking.
Somerset notices something on Mills' desk. It's a medal, in a
small, clear case amongst the papers and pens.
SOMERSET
I hear you and Mills were high school
sweethearts.
TRACY
High school and college, yes. Pretty
hokey, huh? I knew on our first date this
was the man I was going to marry. God...
he was the funniest man I'd ever met.
SOMERSET
Really?
Somerset has to think about that one for a second. He picks the
medal up: a medal for valor from the Police Department.
SOMERSET
Well, it's rare these days... that kind of
commitment.
He puts the medal down. Tracy is looking at the gun strapped
under Somerset's arm as Somerset starts to unstrap it.
SOMERSET
(about the gun)
Don't worry. I don't wear it at the dinner
table.
TRACY
No matter how often I see guns, I still
can't get used to them.
Somerset lays the gun with his jacket.
SOMERSET
Same here.
Tracy smiles. Somerset goes to the table and transfers a small
notebook from his breast pocket to his pants pocket. A piece of
paper falls to the floor, closer to Tracy.
TRACY
Anyway... what girl wouldn't want the
captain of the football team as their
lifetime mate? Here... you dropped
something...
Tracy picks it up. It is the pale, paper rose. She looks at it
as she hands it back to Somerset, who is self-conscious.
TRACY
What is that?
Somerset looks at the rose, then puts it away.
SOMERSET
My future.
Tracy tilts her head, looking at Somerset.
TRACY
You have a strange way about you... I mean
interesting. I'm sorry. It's really none
of my business. It's just nice to meet a
man who talks like that.
(goes back to stove)
If David saw that paper, he'd say you're a
fag. That's how he is.
SOMERSET
(smiles)
I guess I won't be showing it to him then.
44 INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT 44
A record player on a moving box PLAYS QUIET MUSIC. Tracy, Mills
and Somerset are eating. Mills has a beeper beside his plate and
occasionally fingers it absently.
TRACY
Why aren't you married, William?
MILLS
Tracy... what the hell?
Somerset pokes at the napkin, thinking.
SOMERSET
I was close once. It just didn't happen.
TRACY
It surprises me. It really does.
SOMERSET
Any person who spends a significant amount
of time with me finds me... disagreeable.
Just ask your husband.
MILLS
Very true.
Mills grins, but he means it.
TRACY
(to Somerset)
How long have you lived here?
SOMERSET
Too long.
(drinks)
What do you think so far?
Tracy glances immediately to Mills.
MILLS
It takes time to settle in.
Somerset can see it is a sore subject.
SOMERSET
Well, you can get numb to it pretty quickly.
There are things in any city...
A LOW RUMBLING is HEARD. Plates on the table begin to clatter.
MILLS
Subway train.
The dishes clatter more. Coffee cups clink against their
saucers. Tracy holds her coffee cup to stop it and smiles at
Somerset to act like it's nothing, but she is clearly bothered.
TRACY
It'll go away in a minute.
They wait. The rumbling grows louder, knocks something over in
the sink. Somerset continues eating, fiddles with his food. The
record player skips, then plays on. The clattering dies down.
Mills seems uncomfortable.
MILLS
This real estate guy... this miserable
fuck, he brought us to see this place a few
times. And, first I'm thinking he's good,
really efficient. But then, I started
wondering, why does he keep hurrying us
along? Why will he only show us this place
for like five minutes at a time?
Mills laughs lamely.
TRACY
We found out the first night.
Somerset tries to stay straight, but he can't help laughing.
SOMERSET
The soothing, relaxing, vibrating home.
Sorry...
He laughs harder, covering his mouth. Tracy and Mills laugh.
MILLS
Oh, fuck.
45 INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT 45
The record player plays another album. Tracy brings over a pot
of coffee and pours. Mills and Somerset have beers.
TRACY
I don't think I've ever met anyone who
doesn't have a television before.
That's... weird.
MILLS
It's un-American is what it is.
SOMERSET
All television does is teach children that
it's really cool to be stupid and eat candy
bars all day.
MILLS
What about sports?
SOMERSET
What about them?
Tracy brings over a plate of cookies and puts it on the table.
MILLS
You go to movies at least?
SOMERSET
I read. Remember reading?
MILLS
I just have to say, I can't respect any man
who's never seen +-*/Green Acres.+-*/
Somerset gives a blank stare. Tracy walks across the room.
MILLS
You've NEVER seen +-*/The Odd Couple?+-*/ This
is sick. +-*/The Honeymooners?!+-*/
SOMERSET
I vaguely recall a large, angry man, and
someone called Norton.
Tracy turns the record player down further, then goes into the
bedroom and shuts the door behind her.
Somerset and Mills look a the closed door. A long moment. They
look at each other, then sit for a time. Somerset puts down his
beer, sighs. He looks around.
46 INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM 46
The only sounds are from the city outside. The living room table
has been cleared and its surface is now covered with various
forms, reports and 8+-*/ by 10+-*/ photographs. Mills and Somerset are
both standing. Mills guides Somerset through the photos.
MILLS
Our guy got into office, probably before
the building closed and security tightened
up. Gould must have been working late.
SOMERSET
I'm certain. He was the biggest defense
lawyer around. Infamous, actually.
MILLS
Well, his body was found Monday night,
okay? But, get this... the office was
closed all day Monday. Which means, as
long as the gluttony killing was done
before the weekend, our killer could've
gotten in here on Friday. He could've
spent all day Saturday with Gould, and all
day Sunday.
Mills picks up one photo and shows it to Somerset. Long shot: it
shows the greed murder scene. Gould sits dead in the leather
chair, near the desk where the counter-balance scale sits.
MILLS
Gould was tied down, nude. The killer left
his arms free and handed him a big, sharp
butcher's knife. See... the scale here.
Mills pulls another photo. Close up: the two-armed scale. In
one suspended plate is a one pound weight. In the other is a
hunk of flesh.
SOMERSET
A pound of flesh.
Mills digs, comes up with a photocopy of a hand-scrawled note.
SOMERSET
(reading note)
+-*/One pound of flesh, no more no less. No
cartilage, no bone, but only flesh. This
task done... and he would go free.+-*/
Mills takes out one photo showing the note pinned to the wall
beside where +-*/greed+-*/ is written in blood.
MILLS
The leather chair was soaked through with
sweat.
SOMERSET
(nods, grim)
All day Saturday, and all day Sunday.
(pause)
The murderer would want Gould to take his
time. To have to sit there and decide.
Where do you make the first cut? There's a
gun in your face... but, what part of your
body is expendable?
MILLS
He cut along the side of his stomach. The
love handle.
Somerset's still studying the photos.
SOMERSET
He must have left another puzzle piece.
MILLS
Look, I appreciate being able to talk this
out, but, uh...
SOMERSET
This is just to satisfy my curiosity. I'm
still leaving town Saturday.
Mills is very tired. He rubs his eyes, then walks to take one
more photo from his briefcase. It is the photo of the framed
picture of the falsely pretty woman with her eyes circled in
blood.
MILLS
Gould's wife. She was away on business.
If this means she saw anything, I don't
know what. We've questioned her at least
five times.
SOMERSET
And, if it's a threat.
MILLS
We put her in a safe house.
Somerset nods. He puts down the photos he's holding. He begins
spreading all the pictures out.
SOMERSET
Look at these with fresh eyes. Don't see
what the killer wants you to. Don't let
guide you...
While he speaks, Somerset keeps shifting the photos, for example:
covering the corpse in one with the edge of another.
SOMERSET
Even if the corpse is right there... it's
almost like looking through it. Editing
out the initial shock. Look at the room.
In the photos, there's the scale. The note on the wall. Shelves
of books. The Modern Art painting.
GREED written in blood.
SOMERSET
He's preaching.
MILLS
Punishing.
SOMERSET
The sins were used in medieval sermons.
There were seven cardinal virtues, and then
seven deadly sins, created as a learning
tool, because they distract from true
worship.
MILLS
Like in the Parson's Tale, and Dante.
SOMERSET
Did you read them?
MILLS
Yeah. Parts of them. Anyway, in
Purgatory, Dante and his buddy are climbing
up that big mountain... seeing all these
other guys who sinned...
SOMERSET
Seven Terraces of Purgation.
MILLS
Right. But there, pride comes first, not
gluttony. The sins are in a different
order.
SOMERSET
For now, let's just consider the books as the
murderer's inspiration.
(MORE)
SOMERSET (cont'd)
The books and sermons are about atonement
for sin. And, these murders have been like
forced attrition.
MILLS
Forced what?
SOMERSET
Attrition. When you regret your sins, but
not because you love God.
MILLS
Like, because someone's holding a gun on
you.
Mills runs his hands across his face, walks to the fridge to get
beer. Somerset keeps looking at photos and papers.
SOMERSET
No fingerprints?
MILLS
Nothing.
SOMERSET
Totally unrelated victims.
Mills nods, drinking from a beer.
SOMERSET
No witnesses of any kind?
MILLS
None. Which I don't understand. He had to
get back out.
Somerset sits in a chair, picks up the photo of the wife. Runs
his fingers over the eyes circled in blood.
SOMERSET
In any major city, minding your own
business is a perfected science. There's a
public crime prevention course offered at
the precinct house once a month. The first
thing they teach is that you should never
cry +-*/help.+-*/ Always scream +-*/fire,+-*/ because
people don't want to get caught up in
anything. But a fire... that's an
evening's entertainment. They come
running.
Looking at the wife's photo.
SOMERSET
This is the one thing.
MILLS
I know.
SOMERSET
(holds photo up)
What if it's not that she's SEEN
something? What if she's supposed to see
something, but she just hasn't been given a
chance to see it yet?
MILLS
Okay. But, what?
47 INT. SAFE HOUSE -- NIGHT 47
The room is like a hotel room. Mills stands beside the woman
from the picture, MRS. GOULD. Mills shows her photos from the
murder scene. The photos have been covered in sections to hide
the Mr. Gould's corpse. Mrs. Gould is crying. Somerset is on
the other side of the room, holding more photos.
MILLS
I'm sorry about this, Mrs. Gould. I really
am.
MRS GOULD
I... I don't understand.
Mills helps her flip through the photos. He isn't too keen to
put her through this.
MILLS
I need you to look at each one carefully...
very carefully. Look for anything that
seems strange or out of place. Anything at
all.
MRS GOULD
I don't know why... why now?
MILLS
Please, I need you to help me if we're
going to get who did this.
Mrs. Gould sobs quietly, wipes her tears.
MILLS
Anything... anything missing or different.
MRS GOULD
I don't see anything.
MILLS
Are you absolutely certain?
MRS GOULD
I can't do this now... please.
Mills looks to Somerset, looks at the photos Somerset holds.
MILLS
Maybe we better wait.
Somerset looks at the photos in his hand. These show Mr. Gould's
corpse in the chair, not covered in any way.
SOMERSET
It should be now. There may be something
we're not seeing.
MRS GOULD
Wait. Here...
MILLS
What is it?
Mrs. Gould points at the modern art painting on the wall in one
photo. The painting is just splattered paint, abstract.
MRS GOULD
This painting...
MILLS
What?
MRS GOULD
Why is this painting hanging upside-down?
Mills turns to look at Somerset.
48 INT. LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT 48
Where the greed murder took place. Somerset, wearing gloves,
reaches to take the modern art painting off the wall. Mills
near, watching.
SOMERSET
You're sure your men didn't move this?
MILLS
Even if they did, those photos were taken
before forensics.
Nothing on the wall behind the painting. Blank space.
MILLS
Nothing.
SOMERSET
It's got to be.
Somerset puts the painting down, resting it on its bottom edge.
The painting is backed by a thick sheet of brown papers stapled
into the wooden frame. Somerset points to where the wire's eye
screws used to be screwed into the frame, and to where it has
been rescrewed.
SOMERSET
He changed the wire to rehang it.
Somerset takes out his switchblade. Mills is surprised.
MILLS
What the fuck is that?
SOMERSET
A switchblade.
Somerset cuts along the edge of the brown paper to get to the
hollow space between it and the back of the canvas. He cuts out
the entire sheet. Mills helps pull it away. Nothing. Empty.
Mills looks at both sides of the paper, then tosses it away.
MILLS
Nothing. Damn it!
Somerset lays the painting face up on the floor. He pokes his
finger on the painted surface. He brings the flat of his blade
against the painting, tries to peel some of the paint.
MILLS
The killer didn't paint the fucking thing.
Give it up.
Somerset pushes the painting away, frustrated.
SOMERSET
There must be something.
MILLS
We're screwed. He's fucking with us.
Somerset backs away from the wall, staring at the space where the
painting hung. There is only a nail. He turns, looking around
the office, then crosses.
Mills puts his hands to his temple, furious, picks up a lamp and
throws it to the floor, venting.
MILLS
Motherfucker!
Across the room, Somerset falls to his knees and pulls open a
forensics kit. He takes out a fingerprint brush, examining the
bristles. Mills sees this.
MILLS
What?
SOMERSET
Bear with me.
Somerset goes back to the wall where the painting was. He pulls
over a chair, gets on it and starts brushing near the nail.
MILLS
Oh, yeah, sure. You got to be kidding?!
SOMERSET
Just wait!
Somerset brushes with a few wider strokes. He leans close,
studies the powder residue. Leans closer still. Pause.
SOMERSET
Call the print lab.
49 INT. MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT 49
Tracy is asleep, dressed, with the lights still on. She stirs,
then awakens and sits up slowly. She squints from the light,
sweaty and uncomfortable. She looks around and listens. All she
hears is traffic.
50 EXT. MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT 50
FROM OUTSIDE, looking into the apartment, we see Tracy come in
from the bedroom. She sees Mills and Somerset are gone. She
comes to open a window, then goes to the kitchen area.
We're still LOOKING IN at her as she starts the dishes in the
sink. The RUMBLING of the SUBWAY TRAIN is HEARD starting. The
room begins to rattle, as before.
Tracy looks out into the living room, ill at ease.
51 INT. LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT 51
The male forensic from the gluttony murder scene is here. He has
a magnifying glass which he's using to study a very clear
fingerprint in black powder on the wall.
MALE FORENSIC
Oh, man...
MILLS (o.s.)
Talk to me.
The male forensic bites his lip, still studying.
Mills and Somerset are watching the forensic who works O.S.
MILLS
(to Somerset)
Just, honestly... have you ever seen
anything like this... been involved in
anything like this?
SOMERSET
No.
MALE FORENSIC (o.s.)
Well, I can tell you, boys...
The forensic steps down from a stool. Behind him, where the
painting once was, are fingerprints, clear and distinct. The
prints have been left, one after the other, to form letters which
form words: HELP ME.
MALE FORENSIC
... just by looking at the shape of the
underloop on these, they are NOT the
victim's fingerprints.
52 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, PRINT LAB -- NIGHT 52
Dark. A TECHNICIAN sits before an old computer. The computer's
green screen shows enlarged fingerprint patterns being aligned,
compares, and then rejected: whir - click - whir - click - whir -
click. Mills and Somerset watch, bathed in a green glow.
MILLS
He just may be nuts enough.
SOMERSET
It doesn't fit. He doesn't want us to help
him stop.
MILLS
Who the hell knows? There's plenty of
freaks out there doing dirty deeds they
don't want to do. You know... little
voices tell them bad things.
Somerset doesn't buy it. The technician adjusts a knob, then
turns to the detectives.
TECHNICIAN
I've seen this baby take as long as three
days to make a match, so you guys can go
cross your fingers somewhere else.
53 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- NIGHT 53
Somerset and Mills come out from the Print Lab. A janitor is
mopping the hall. The computer is HEARD WHIRing AND CLICKing
onwards. Somerset sits with a groan on a couch outside the lab
door. Mills flops beside him.
SOMERSET
You meant what you said to Mrs. Gould,
didn't you? About catching this guy. You
really want to believe that, don't you?
MILLS
And you don't?
SOMERSET
(laughs, very tired)
I wish I still thought like you.
MILLS
Then, you tell me what you think we're
doing.
SOMERSET
All we do is pick up the pieces. We take
all the evidence, and all the pictures and
samples. We write everything down and note
what time things happened...
MILLS
Oh, that's all.
SOMERSET
We put it in a nice neat pile and file it
away, on the slim chance it's ever needed
in a courtroom.
(pause)
It's like collecting diamonds on a desert
island. You keep them just in case you
ever get rescued, but it's a pretty big
ocean out there.
MILLS
Bullshit.
SOMERSET
I'm, sorry, but even the most promising
clues usually lead only to other clues.
I've seen so many corpses rolled away...
unrevenged.
MILLS
I've seen the same. I'm not the country
hick you seem to think I am.
SOMERSET
In this city, if all the skeletons came out
of all the closets... if ever hidden body
were to suddenly rise again, there'd be no
more room for the living.
Somerset slumps back, takes out a cigarette and lights it.
MILLS
Don't tell me you didn't get that rush
tonight... that adrenalin, like we were
getting somewhere.
Mills sits back on the couch, closes his eyes.
MILLS
And, don't try to tell me it was because
you found something that would play well in
a courtroom.
Somerset looks at Mills, who crosses his arms to sleep. Somerset
puffs the cigarette.
The computer is heard: whir - click - whir - click...
INSERT -- TITLE CARD
THURSDAY
54 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING 54
Mills and Somerset are fast asleep on the couch, leaning against
each other. People pass and look at them strangely. A man steps
in front of the couch. He reaches with both hands to slap their
faces simultaneously.
It's the captain leaning over them.
CAPTAIN
Wake up, Glimmer Twins. We have a winner.
55 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, READY ROOM -- EARLY MORNING 55
A windowless classroom. The captain stands at a podium in front
with a white screen at his side. A mug-shot of a man, VICTOR,
25, is projected onto the screen from a slide projector.
CAPTAIN
He goes by the name Victor, as many of you
know, and his prints were found on scene by
Detectives Mills and Somerset.
FIVE hardened POLICE OFFICERS, four men and one woman, sit in
chairs facing the captain. The all wear bullet-proof vests with
the word POLICE spray-painted across them.
Somerset and Mills sit in back, drinking coffee, still asleep.
CAPTAIN
Now, this guy's a real beauty. He has a
long, long history of serious mental
illness. According the head-shrinkers, it
seems his parents gave him a very strict,
Southern Baptist upbringing, but somewhere
along the line he dropped his marbles.
Two of the cops in the front row are talking.
CAPTAIN
Hey, you two can shut-up now!
The two cops separate like huge, embarassed school children.
CAPTAIN
Thank you, fuckheads. Now, Victor spent a
couple of months in prison for the
attempted rape of an eight year old boy,
but his lawyer made sure he didn't stay
long. Before that, he dabbled in drugs,
armed robbery and assault.
(MORE)
CAPTAIN (cont'd)
We've been doing our best to keep an eye on
him, but he's been out of circulation for a
while.
FEMALE COP
If he disappeared, what do you want from
us?
CAPTAIN
His last place of residence is still in his
name. A search warrant is being pushed
through the courts as we speak.
A red-headed cop, CALIFORNIA, raises his hand.
CALIFORNIA
So, have the housing cops walk up and ring
the doorbell.
The cops laugh. The captain is clenching his jaw, angry.
CAPTAIN
Listen, California. When you go in, if
Victor isn't home, one of his buddies might
be house-sitting, so you go in guns first.
Besides using, Victor deals, and we know
what kind of crowd he runs with.
There is some chatter amongst the cops.
CAPTAIN
This is what the D.A. has a hard-on for
right now, Ladies and Germs, so we do not
question why.
Mills leans to Somerset while the captain continues the briefing.
They whisper.
MILLS
Does this make it with you?
SOMERSET
Doesn't seem like our man, does it?
MILLS
You tell me. I'm new in town.
SOMERSET
He doesn't have the desire somehow. Our
killer seems to have more purpose. More
purpose than Victor could ever conceive of.
MILLS
The fingerprints.
SOMERSET
Yes. They were there... so, it must be.
MILLS
We'll tag along.
Somerset wants no part of that.
SOMERSET
Why would we?
MILLS
(smiles)
Satisfy our curiosity?
56 INT. MILLS' CAR -- MORNING 56
Mills drives, follows a police van. Somerset rides shotgun.
Mills seems pumped and ready. Somerset takes two Rolaids off a
fresh roll and chews them.
MILLS
You ever take one?
Somerset takes out his gun, opens it to check the load.
SOMERSET
Never in my twenty-four years, knock on
wood. I've only ever taken my gun out five
times with the actual intention of using
it. Never fired it though. Not once.
(closes his gun)
You?
MILLS
Never took a bullet. I pulled my gun once.
fired it once.
SOMERSET
And?
MILLS
It was my first one of these. We were a
secondary unit, and I was pretty shaky
going in. I was still considered a rookie.
Mills takes a corner, tires screeching.
MILLS
We busted the door, looking for this
junkie, right? The geek just opened fire.
Another cop was hit in the arm and he went
flying... like in slow motion.
(pause)
I remember riding in the ambulance. His
arm was like Jello. A piece of meat. He
bled to death right there.
A pause.
SOMERSET
How did the fire fight end?
MILLS
I got him. I got the son-of-a-bitch.
See, I was doing really good up till then.
Lots of street busts. I've always had this
weird luck... everything always went my
way, but this was wild.
(pause)
I got him with one shot... right between
the eyes. Next thing I know, the mayor's
pinning a medal on me. Picture in the
paper, whole nine yards.
Somerset unrolls the window, feels the air across his face.
SOMERSET
How was it?
MILLS
I expected it to be bad, you know. I took
a human life... but I slept like a baby
that night. I never gave it a second
thought.
SOMERSET
I think Hemingway wrote somewhere... I
can't remember where, but he wrote that in
order to live in a place like this, you
have to have the ability to kill. I think
he meant you truly must be able to do it,
not just faking it, too survive.
MILLS
Sounds like he knew what he was talking
about.
57 INT. SLUM BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- MORNING 57
The five cops from the briefing, fully geared up and ready,
rifles and handguns out, move quickly up the stairs in single
file. Somerset and Mills follow, guns out. Somerset is sweating
bullets. Mills is wild eyed, juiced.
Crack viles and hypodermic needles on the stairs crunch under the
cops' heavy boots.
58 INT. SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING 58
The cops enter the dank hall. The move cautiously. A man is
lying on the floor, looking up, helpless, with dead eyes.
A door opens and a woman peeks out. The female cop points her
gun and the door slams. California, leading the group, steps up
to apartment 303. He has a search warrant scotch-taped to the
front of his bullet-proof vest.
CALIFORNIA
(to black cop)
This is it. Give it up.
The black cop hoists a heavy battering ram to California. The
other cops get on both sides of the door. Somerset and Mills
hang back a few feet, watching their backs.
BLACK COP
(points to Mills)
Cops go before Dicks.
Many people are sticking their heads out of doors in the hall.
CALIFORNIA
Police! Open the door!!
California brings the ram forward with a splintering THUD -- once
-- twice -- the door flies open. The cops storm in.
59 INT. SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING 59
The apartment is incredibly dusty. The cops charge down the
short hall into this room where a bed sits against the far wall.
California moves up to the bed. Someone lies under the sheets.
Three other cops move, all training their weapon on the bed.
CALIFORNIA
Good morning, sweetheart!
A blond cop goes into another room. California moves closer to
the bed, gun up.
CALIFORNIA
Get up, now, motherfucker! NOW!
60 INT. SLUM APARTMENT, ADJOINING ROOM -- MORNING 60
The blond cop enters, gun trained, looks around in confusion.
The room's tables, chairs and floor are covered with hundreds of
colorful, plastic air fresheners.
61 INT. SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING 61
Mills and Somerset enter. Somerset looks at the cops around the
bed, then looks at a nearby wall. His mouth drops in horror. On
the wall, written in excrement: SLOTH.
SOMERSET
Jesus...
California kicks the bed, enraged.
CALIFORNIA
I said get up, Sleepyhead!
He pulls the sheets off the bed and reveals the shriveled,
sore-covered form of a man who is blindfolded and tied to the bed
with a thin wire which has been wrapped time and time again
around the mattress and bed frame. Tubes runs out from a stained
loincloth around the man's waist and snake under the bed.
CALIFORNIA
Fuck me!
Mills pushes past the other cops.
MILLS
Holy shit.
The cops recoil from the stench. Somerset steps up, putting his
gun away.
SOMERSET
Victor?
BLACK COP
What the hell... ?
CALIFORNIA
(to Somerset)
Check this out, Dick...
California points with his gun to the end of the man's right arm.
The hand is gone, severed at the wrist long ago.
MILLS
It is Victor.
SOMERSET
(points to a cop)
Call an ambulance.
The blond cop enters from the other room.
BLOND COP
What the fuck is this?
CALIFORNIA
Somebody call a hearse, more like.
The female cop has gone to one wall where a sheet is pinned up.
She pulls the sheet down. Pinned behind the sheet are fifty-two
Polaroid pictures; all pictures of Victor tied to the bed, with a
date written at the bottom of each picture. It is a visual
history of Victor's physical decay.
BLOND COP
What is going on?
Mills sees the female cop looking at the pictures.
MILLS
Hey, California, get your people out.
Somerset takes out rubber gloves and puts them on.
CALIFORNIA
You heard him. Hit the hall, and don't
touch anything.
Somerset replaces the sheet over Victor, but not over his head.
The cops file out and Mills goes to examine the pictures.
California stays by the bed with Somerset.
CALIFORNIA
It looks like he's some kind of friggin'
sculpture or something.
Somerset places his finger along Victor's throat.
MILLS
Somerset, you... you better look here.
Mills looks at the photos in awe. Somerset joins him.
MILLS
All pictures of Victor tied to the bed.
(crouches, points)
The last one is dated three days ago.
Somerset looks at the first photo. In it, Victor is bound and
gagged, but he is healthy.
SOMERSET
The first one... it's dated one year ago.
To the day.
Somerset wipes his pale face.
Californian stands by the corpse, behind Somerset and Mills. He
lifts the sheet on the bed to look under it.
CALIFORNIA
Mother...
Mills kneels and lifts the sheet which had covered the pictures
off the floor. There is an open shoebox underneath.
MILLS
What...?
On the side of the box: TO THE DETECTIVES, FROM ME.
California leans close to Victor's gaunt, blindfolded face,
examining with morbid curiosity.
CALIFORNIA
You got what you deserved, Victor.
Somerset leans down beside Mills. Mills looks through the
shoebox. Inside are plastic, zip-lock bags.
One contains small clumps of hair. One contains a yellow
liquid...
MILLS
(looking at bags)
A urine sample, hair sample... stool
sample. Finger nails...
(looks to Somerset)
He laughing at us.
California is still close to Victor's face, when suddenly
Victor's lips twist open and Victor lets out a loud, guttural
bark.
California jerks back, shouting in fear, falling over a chair to
to the floor.
Mills and Somerset reel. They see California on the ground,
scared out of his mind, pointing.
CALIFORNIA
He's alive!
Somerset and Mills look towards the bed.
Victor's lips move feebly as he lets out a sick, gurgling moan.
CALIFORNIA
He's still alive!!
62 EXT. SLUM APARTMENT BUILDING -- MORNING 62
A crowd has gathered at the entrance. Mills' car, the police van
and two ambulances are parked on the sidewalk.
63 INT. SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING 63
The cops are in the hall holding neighbors at bay.
64 INT. SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING 64
Three ambulance attendants are at the bed, working on Victor.
One attendant uses wire cutters to clip Victor's bonds.
65 INT. SLUM STAIRWELL -- MORNING 65
Mills and Somerset are standing in the middle of one flight of
stairs. Both are highly agitated.
SOMERSET
The way this has gone till now, I wouldn't
have thought it was possible, but we may
have underestimated thid guy.
MILLS
I want him bad. I don't just want to catch
him anymore. I want to hurt him.
SOMERSET
Listen to me. He's all about playing
games.
MILLS
No kidding! No fucking kidding!
SOMERSET
We have to divorce ourselves from emotions
here. No matter how hard it is, we have to
stay focused on the details.
MILLS
I don't know about you, but I feed off my
emotions.
SOMERSET
He'll string us along all the way if we're
not careful.
Mills is looking at the floor, still burning. Somerset grabs him
by the jacket.
SOMERSET
Are you listening to me?
Mills pushes Somerset's hand off.
MILLS
I hear you.
There is a sudden, brilliant FLASH OF LIGHT and the SOUND of a
CAMERA ADVANCING. Mills and Somerset look.
Down the stairs, a REPORTER has his camera up, pointed at them.
REPORTER
Say cheese.
He take another picture, flashbulb flashing.
Mills goes down the stairs, grabs the reporter, a balding, almost
silly looking man with thick glasses and wrinkled clothing.
MILLS
What the fuck are you doing here?
The reporter squirms, holds up a laminated press pass on a cord
around his neck.
REPORTER
I have a right, Officer. I...
Mills shoves him, and the reporter stumbles a few steps, then
falls to the landing below with a thud.
MILLS
That doesn't mean anything! This is a
closed crime scene!
Somerset comes to pull Mills back. The shaken reporter stands
uneasily.
REPORTER
You can't do this! You can't...
MILLS
Get the fuck out of here!
The reporter scrambles down the nest flight, out of sight.
REPORTER (o.s.)
The public has a right to know!
Somerset yanks Mills back harder, till Mills sits on the stairs.
MILLS
How do those cockroaches get here so quick?
SOMERSET
They pay cops for the inside scoop, and
they pay well.
MILLS
(calming)
Sorry about that... I just...
SOMERSET
(sarcastic)
Oh, it's alright.
Somerset starts back up the stairs.
SOMERSET
It's always impressive to see a man feeding
off his emotions.
66 INT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY 66
Somerset and Mills are with DOCTOR BEARDSLEY. Victor lies inside
an oxygen tent with tubes running into him. The room is dim.
DOCTOR
A year of immobility seems about right,
judging by the deterioration of the muscles
and the spine. Blood tests show a whole
smorgasbord of drugs in his systems; from
crack to heroin... even an antibiotic which
must have been administered to keep the bed
sores from infecting.
Mills looks into the oxygen tent.
MILLS
He hasn't said anything, or tried to
express himself in any way?
DOCTOR
Even if his brain were not mush, which it
is... he chewed off his own tongue long
ago.
Mills winces, moves away from the bed.
SOMERSET
There's no way he'll survive?
DOCTOR
Detective, he'd die right how of shock if
you were to shine a flashlight in his eyes.
Silence for a moment, the the doctor lets out a chuckle.
DOCTOR
It's funny to think... he's experienced
about as much pain and suffering as anyone
I've encountered... give or take... and he
still has hell to look forward to.
He chuckles again, engrossed in some information on a clipboard.
Mills looks to Somerset like, +-*/this guy's nuts.+-*/
67 INT. PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY 67
A blackboard is nailed to the wall. Written in chalk:
1 gluttony (x) 5 wrath
2 greed (x) 6 pride
3 sloth (x) 7 lust
4 envy
Somerset and Mills are at their paperwork covered desks.
SOMERSET
((reading one sheet)
Victor's landlord says an envelope of cash
was in the office mailbox each month. He
says, quote, +-*/I never heard a single
complaint from the tenant in apartment
three-o-one, and nobody ever complained
about him. He's the best tenant I've ever
had.
MILLS
A landlord's dream tenant: a paralyzed man
with no tongue.
SOMERSET
Who pays the rent on time.
Somerset turns to the typewriter, types. Mills fills out a form
by hand. He make an error and tries to erase, but the paper
rips. He curses, crumples the paper and throws it.
MILLS
I'm sick of sitting around, waiting for him
to kill again.
SOMERSET
This is the job. It's not an Easter egg
hunt.
MILLS
There must be something in this pile of
garbage we can follow. I mean, Christ...
do we have to let this lunatic make all the
moves.
SOMERSET
It's too dismissive to call him a lunatic.
We can't make that mistake.
MILLS
Oh, blah, blah, blah. The guy's insane.
SOMERSET
It's a fine line between insane and
inspired.
MILLS
Hey, Freud, what brand of bullshit are you
shoveling, huh? Right now he's probably
dancing around his room in a pair of his
mommy's panties, singing show tunes and
rubbing himself with peanut butter...
SOMERSET
No.
MILLS
Sooner or later his luck's goning to run
out.
SOMERSET
No. He's not depending on luck. You've
seen that. We walked into that apartment
exactly one year after he first tied Victor
to the bed, to the day. To the day!
Because he wanted us to.
MILLS
We don't know for sure...
SOMERSET
Yes we do. Here...
Somerset picks up the photocopy of the first note.
SOMERSET
This quote... his first words to us. I
looked it up. It's from Milton's Paradise
Lost. +-*/Long is the way, and hard, that out
of hell leads up to light... +-*/
MILLS
And so what?
SOMERSET
Well, he's been right so far, hasn't he?
MILLS
Just because the bastard has a library
card, it doesn't make him Einstein.
SOMERSET
Just, realize... this is not some common
lunatic. The type of intestinal fortitude
it must take... to keep a man bound for a
full year. To connect tubes to his
genitals. To sever his hand and use it to
plant fingerprints. He's methodical and
exacting, and worst of all, he's patient.
MILLS
What does all that matter anyway? It's not
our job to figure him out, is it? All we
have to do is catching him.
Something clicks for Somerset. He looks away, thinking.
Mills watches him.
MILLS
What?
Somerset sits. Ponders, staring off into space.
MILLS
What is it?
Somerset stands back up, takes money out of his pockets.
SOMERSET
How much money do you have?
MILLS
I don't know... like fifty.
Somerset picks up the phone and dials, still sifting through his
own money. Mills doesn't know what's going on.
SOMERSET
(to Mills)
I propose a field trip.
68 INT. PUBLIC LIBRARY -- DAY 68
Somerset walks through the busy main library, goes to a group of
computer terminals. Mills follows, wound up. Somerset sits at
one computer and works the keyboard, hunt-and-peck.
MILLS
Somerset... what the fuck?
Several people turn to shush him. Somerset takes out a notepad.
SOMERSET
At the top of the list, we'll put
Purgatory, Canterbury Tales... anything
relating