"In writing fiction, the more fantastic the tale, the plainer the prose should be. Don't ask your readers to admire your words when you want them to believe your story." - Ben Bova [ more quotes ]

"INVESTIGATION"

Screenplay by

Paul Schrader

1987 Draft Script

UNPRODUCED



INT. PARKING STRUCTURE - DAY

JUDE MAZZO, United States Attorney for the District of
Columbia, 45, trim, dark full hair. Hey, Jude. It's a name
you remember. It sticks in mind. Jude the Obscure.

Jude Mazzo adjusts his tailored suit, crosses underground
structure. The first thing you notice is the walk. The Jude
walk. Something between a stroll and a strut. The balls of
his feet carry his weight effortlessly; his heels follow,
scrapping the concrete in precise hypnotic rhythm. The walk
of confidence. His walk presumes order in the space through
which it moves, creates an allusion of order if none exists.
It says: this space has purpose because I am passing through
it.

This isn't the confidence of unthought arrogance. It's the
considered arrogance of a leader. People want order; they
crave it like bread or water. Those who create order are
avatars, above judgement or suspicion. Their walk, their
bearing, the echoing sound of their approaching footsteps
are manna for the masses.

* Mazzo unlocks his metallic navy blue 1987 Beretta, sits
in. Stereo blasts "Chantilly Lace," Big Bopper's 1959 rock
hit, as he revs engine. Telephone RINGS from speakers. The
Big Bopper answers in ersatz negroid:

"CHANTILLY LACE"
(jaunty)
"Hel-lo, ba-by,
Yeah, this is the Big Bopper speakin'
(demonic laugh)
O-oh, you sweet thang! Do I what?
Will I what?
O-oh, ba-by, You kno-ow what I like!"

Jude squeals off. Sometimes it's not enough to be a born
leader. Sometimes you gotta flaunt it.

CUT TO:

EXT. RESIDENTIAL STREET - DAY

Grey structures squat behind iron gates and lush magnolias.
Mazzo's coupe approaches, parks between dark sedans. Jude
gets out, tightens his silk tie as he steps toward sidewalk.
The tie's just the right touch, obtrusive yet elegant: a sky
blue gash neck to navel.

Mazzo turns at corner, continues down sidewalk. The score
picks up where "Chantilly Lace" cuts off. Music surrounds
Jude, always pulsing, pushing forward. Screen credits
continue.

CUT TO:

EXT. KARIN'S APT. BLDG. - DAY

Jude steps into shadow of six-story Post-modern condominium
complex. Enters.

CUT TO:

INT. LOBBY - DAY

Steps to elevator, presses button. Hawaiian paintings adorn
far wall.

CUT TO:

INT. FIFTH FLOOR - DAY

Exits elevator, looks both directions. Hallway empty. Jude
walks softly to 5C. He pauses outside door; he pats his hair
in place, straightens suit and tie.

Jude removes key from coat pocket, unlocks door slowly,
silently. He tiptoes inside.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S LIVING ROOM - DAY

Jude enters silently. Chain-latches door.

Jude surveys room with familiar eyes. The only light comes
from drawn yellowed window shades; thin strips of exterior
green foliage glow underneath.

The decor jumps out at you: an eclectic jungle of plants and
paisley. A wall cluttered with clippings butts into a verdure
tapestry. Second Empire chaise strewn with books. Cheap salsa
music enhances Green Mansions effect.

One thing is certain: a woman lives here. Intellectual:
definitely. Young: probably. Impulsive: compulsively.

Light shines from open bedroom. Sheets rustle within. Mazzo
lowers salsa muzak, enters. Screen credits continue.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY

KARIN SCHREIBER, 25, wrapped in pink bed sheet, approaches
Jude seductively. Dirty blond hair, pale complexion. Either
Dutch or German. She could be a model.

Karin opens sheet, drapes it shroud-like over Jude's
shoulders. He glimpses her nudity. She smiles:

KARIN
(teasing)
How will you kill me today?

JUDE
I'll slit your throat.

END CREDITS

Jude removes his blue tie, turns on large TV directly facing
Karin's bed. He dials cable box to C-Span: hearings live
from Capitol Hill -- on screen, inaudible, some duly elected
asshole pontificates. Karin sits on mattress, stretches.

Jude removes suit jacket, folds it over chair, rhythmnically
weaves sex fantasy scenario:

JUDE
It's a political scandal. Misused
funds. Pivot this way, toward the
TV. Kinky sex, ruined career, media
rumors, ridicule -- the Senator was
one of the most respected on the
Hill...
(Karin swivels)
...yes, just like that. Member of
the Judicial Committee. Considered
above reproach.

Karin lies facing foot of bed. Random mirrors reflect all
four walls. Erotic painting of elaborate coitus, executed in
Soviet Social Realist style, hangs beside rack of nightgowns.
Stained glass lamps, oddly placed, provide pastel light.
This is boudoir, not bedroom.

Karin watches Mazzo disrobe. He places dress shoes -- black,
polished, Italian -- neatly under chair, tucks Picasso pattern
socks inside. Folds, stacks shirt and trousers. Karin fluffs
her pillow.

Jude removes bikini briefs, tucks them from sight, slips in
bed. Karin welcomes him with a smile.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY

TIMECUT: salsa music BLARES from stereo. Jude and Karin fuck
energetically atop wide oceanic bed. Panting, they change
positions, restart. TV casts cathode glow across bed.

Karin, astride Jude, silhouetted in C-Span. She grips his
buttocks, guides penal thrusts. Her breath quickens. His
panting breaths echo. She digs her fingers into Mazzo's
thighs.

Jude's hands rise along her torso. Karin shivers at onset of
orgasm. She elongates her climax with slow crescendoing
SCREAM, each octave a new plateau of pleasure. Karin's voice
fades as she slumps forward, GASPING. Her chest flattens
upon his. She wheezes, then stops.

Mazzo pulls himself up beside her -- only then do we notice
the blood across his chest and face. Karin is dead. Her throat
has been slit. Jude eases Karin's body to sheets as he swings
his legs to floor. He stands pulling sheet around waist.
Karin watches blank-eyed in pool of blood.

Jude waddles from bedroom.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BATHROOM - DAY

Jude showers. Blood washes down drain.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY

Mazzo, wrapped in sheet, returns to Karin's bed. He rumages
through bloodied bed covers until he finds safety razor blade,
the murder weapon. He hardly notices Karin. Jude wipes razor
blade on bed cover, walks away.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S KITCHEN - DAY

Jude takes a glass from cupboard, opens refrigerator door.
He removes, uncaps bottle of dry vermouth. He fingers the
glass as he fills it. Jude lifts vermouth to his lips,
swallows, shivers.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S LIVING ROOM - DAY

Mazzo enters with bottle and glass, walks to windows. He
raises a center shade, looks outside: traffic passes in
sunlight. He steps to bookshelf, turns off stereo. The salsa
stops.

Weary, Jude lowers himself onto Karin's sofa. He lies still,
wrapped in sheet, cradling vermouth bottle and glass, staring
at ceiling. Jude's eyes close. He slips lightly to sleep.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY

TIMECUT: 30 minutes later. Jude is awake and dressed, his
spirits replenished. Music score sets him in motion.

Mazzo puts on Sahara-brown suit coat as he crosses to bureau.
Blue silk tie hangs loose around his neck.

He pulls white handkerchief from pocket, wraps it around
right hand. He opens bureau drawer with covered hand, leaving
no fingerprints. Inside, Karin's cash and jewelry lie amid
personal possessions.

Mazzo lifts inlaid box, sets it down. He flips through folded
tens and twenties, puts money back, then examines antique
jade and silver necklace. Jude pauses to review his strategy.
He carefully wraps handkerchief around necklace, places
necklace in coat pocket.

Jude turns to bed where Karin lies twisted in the covers --
still but still beautiful. He pulls tie from neck, turns it
over.

He crouches beside Karin, lifts her hand. Jude gingerly drags
the silk tie across Karin's long fingernails. A blue thread
catches under her index finger. He pulls tie away, releases
her hand. Karin's fingers reflexively curl around the sky
blue thread.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S KITCHEN - DAY

Jude enters tying tie.

He presses his shoe against tile floor, then raises foot to
reveal faint bloody footprint. He steps again, leaving fainter
and fainter footfalls.

Jude lifts receiver from wall phone, dials number from memory.
He squats against wall, receiver pressed to his ear. He waits,
fiddles impatiently. Paperback books are stacked everywhere.
Someone finally answers. Jude speaks with cadence of one
conditioned to command:

JUDE
Hello?
(pause)
Hello. Homicide, please.
(pause)
They ought to be answering, unless
they're asleep. A girl has been
murdered.
(pause)
A girl was killed, I tell you!
(pause)
2085 M Street.
(pause)
M Street, not N Street, you idiot!
(pause)
Who was she? Karin Schreiber. On the
fifth floor.
(pause)
You got all that? Read it back to
me.

Mazzo listens, nods, checks watch. Satisfied, he stands to
hang up phone. It's time to go.

He turns back to frig, opens door. Jude removes bottle of
Moet champagne, tucks it under his arm. He walks away, leaving
refrigerator door ajar.

CUT TO:

INT. LOBBY - DAY

Jude exits elevator, walks to main entrance. His eyes flit
side to side. Otherwise, his face's a blank mask.

The front door opens as Mazzo reaches for handle. He's
suddenly face to face with RIA MALED, 24, about to enter.
They freeze. Have they met? Do they know each other?

Ria's dressed chic/casual. Either Arab or Italian. Slightly
built with piercing eyes. Suspicious type -- like those
longtime students who never graduate.

RIA
Excuse me.

JUDE
Huh?

RIA
Excuse me, please, I'd like to get
through.

JUDE
Sorry.

Mazzo steps back as Ria passes. Jude exits, proceeds to
sidewalk. Ria pauses in lobby to watch him. No doubt: he
knows our Jude.

CUT TO:

EXT. JUSTICE DEPT. - DAY

* MOVING POV from inside Jude's Beretta: Justice Dept. complex
looms immediately ahead. Washington D.C. Capitol Dome crowns
the six-story skyline.

The Justice Department, built 1931-35, a monumental Art Deco
structure halfway between the Capital and the White House.
It's granite facade is richly decorated with columns, friezes
and inscriptions. Military personnel patrol the sidewalks.
All visitors are screened. D.C. seems under siege. Pink plexi
sign at entrance warns: "Caution, Power Doors Swing Out."

The FBI Building, 1974, Hoover's monolith, engulfs the
neighboring block. Its brutal design dwarfs human scale and
feeling.

SCREENWRITER'S NOTE: Special consideration is given to
architecture throughout the script. The story is set in visual
brave new world. Post-modern structures, such as Washington
Harbour (under construction), U.S. News, Westin and Grand
hotels, are favored. International Style buildings are also
prefered: L'Enfant Plaza, AFL-CIO, FBI headquarters.
Architecture of film need not be beautiful, it need only be
new. Historic Washington is irrelevant. Jude Mazzo's a new
creation; he needs new space.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S JUSTICE DEPT. OFFICE - DAY

White collar workers crowd impressive corner office
overlooking Pennsylvania Avenue. No flies on this bunch:
they exude self-righteousness of underlings on the rise.
Today's idealists aching to be tomorrow's bureaucrats.

A mounted Justice Dept. seal, flanked by U.S. flags, sets
the tone. Grid of framed photos feature Mazzo posing with
politicians past and present. Two objects stand out from the
government-issue decor: a bright Memphis chair and
Neoexpressionist map of D.C. Just the right hip.

The office workers watch CNN. Generic NEWSCASTER speaks framed
by blue screen pic of smoking subway platform. Bloodied woman
lies in photo foreground.

CNN NEWSCASTER
...The government has taken great
pains to remain calm throughout the
crisis, convinced any appearance of
panic would only encourage terrorists.
The President conducted business as
usual as pressure for action continues
to mount in the wake of the Statue
of Liberty bombing...

* CNN cuts to file footage of bleeding, frightened tourists
streaming from smoke-filled entrance to Statue of Liberty.
Paramedics and police hustle them away under glare of TV
cameras.

CNN NEWSCASTER
...Rumors of the U.S. response are
the talk of Washington. This we now
know for certain: the Attorney General
will announce, perhaps as soon as
tomorrow, the formation of an ad-hoc
anti-terrorism agency, an elite inter-
departmental unit headed by an anti-
terrorism "czar." The name most
mentioned...

YOUNG JUSTICE EMPLOYEE improvs dramatic drum roll.

CNN NEWSCASTER
...is that of Jude Mazzo, the high
profile United States District
Attorney from the District of
Columbia. Steve Dunn has compiled a
background report on Attorney Mazzo.
Steve --

REPORTER DUNN narrates bio over clips from Mazzo's career.
They include:

-- Jude as young lawyer on courthouse steps.

-- Jude unveils chart of underworld crime activities.

-- Jude sworn in.

-- Jude, in leather jacket and jeans, tells of undercover
drug buy.

-- Jude receives VFW commendation.

-- Jude at White House reception.

-- Jude jumping from helicopter, followed by FBI.

Clips cover five years. In early footage, Jude's dress and
manner are bland. Later, he's the opposite: snazzy, confident,
charismatic.

REPORTER DUNN (O.S.)
...first burst on the scene with his
vigorous organized crime and drug
prosecutions, breaking all the
unwritten rules. The politicos all
stood their distance, waiting for
Mazzo to take his fall. Instead,
came a wave of convictions. Not
surprisingly, Mazzo turned his
attention to city corruption. Within
eight months, 16 state and local
officials had resigned...

Mazzo's cohorts joke, wisecrack to screen. Jude's very much
a hero here -- both loved and respected.

REPORTER DUNN (O.S.)
...Even those opposed to the new
agency seem to have no objections
concerning Attorney Mazzo. He is, in
the words of the President, "an
American hero."

Door opens. All eyes turn.

Jude strides in, Moet bottle under his arm. Office staff
bursts into spontaneous applause. Mazzo pops cork, sending
spray across room. He speaks rapid-fire:

JUDE
Get some glasses, they're in the
cupboard -- not too many. And turn
that thing off. Sandy? I'll never
understand how seemingly intelligent
people who spend their days planting
stories and manipulating coverage
can turn around, flip on the news,
sit there and watch it like God was
sending it down fresh from Mt. Sinai.
Manna!
(looks)
Great, over here.

YOUNG OFFICE WORKER distributes plastic glasses as SANDY, an
"Executive Assistant," turns off TV. Jude spills champagne
as he pours from glass to glass.

YOUNG OFFICE EMPLOYEE
Congratulations, sir.

Others echo congratulations. Jude pours:

JUDE
Here, here. Thank you.
(suddenly harsh)
Stop!

They all freeze. Awkward silence.

JUDE
This is no time for celebration.
(pauses for effect)
And you can quote me on that.

Jude breaks into laugh, takes swig. Impromptu party resumes.
Staff divides into threes and fours.

ALAN, 29, speaks with fellow EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT out of
earshot:

ALAN
Who's Mazzo taking to the new agency?

EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT
Get in line: that's what everybody
wants to know. That's where the
action's gonna be. And Jude ain't
talking.

Jude, working crowd, approaches:

ALAN
We're going to miss you.

EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT
It won't be the same.

JUDE
I'll be around. You can't get rid of
me that easy. Besides, Milton will
step right in.

EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT
It won't be the same.

SECOND EXECUTIVE ASSISTANT joins them. Jude turns to him:

JUDE
What's green with four legs and does
impressions?

ALAN
(to 2nd Ass't)
Don't answer.

JUDE
I want it on my desk in the morning.
Clayton, right?
(walks off)

ALAN
That's how he gets his jokes.

Jude steps beside ASSISTANT U.S. ATTORNEY AVERY MILTON, Jude's
right-hand man and confidant. Ass't Attorney Milton, late
fifties, seems more suited to office than courtroom. He's
quite content to stand in Jude's shadow.

MILTON
So, congratulations once again.

JUDE
Thanks, Milt.

Mazzo, smiling, calls to unseen staff member:

JUDE
You're coming with me, don't forget!

Milton suppresses sting of slight: he hasn't been asked.
Nearby, TWO ATTORNEYS dish breaking murder:

1ST ATTORNEY
...it's this really hot babe. You
know, sweater meat for miles. Embassy
connections all over. The whole
package. Zapped.

2ND ATTORNEY
The Thai girl -- ?

1ST ATTORNEY
No way Homicide get this juiced over
a gook. They're 'Nam-heads --

Mazzo and Milton walk over. Second Attorney brightens, fawns:

2ND ATTORNEY
You hear this, boss? Gorgeous girl,
diplomatic connections, then zi-ip --
(throat cut gesture)
Page one all the way.

1ST ATTORNEY
No other marks on body. Mint condition
from the neck down.

JUDE
Where's this from?

1ST ATTORNEY
Precinct gossip. Real sketchy. We're
gonna get called in -- to check out
the "political angle." Probably
banging Embassy Row like Mother
Theresa --

2ND ATTORNEY
(correcting)
-- Mata Hari --

JUDE
(cuts in)
Where?

2ND ATTORNEY
N Street. Two thousand something.

JUDE
(disgusted)
What did your brain do while your
dick was going to law school? 2000 N
is a vacant lot! And don't be so
fast to jump to judgement.
(calls to others)
There's only one guilty person around
here!

All stop silent. Second Attorney shrivels in pinstripes, his
career hanging by a thread. Jude laughs:

JUDE
And that's me!

Two Attorneys, relieved, join laughter. Mazzo resumes
conversation with First Attorney:

JUDE
They want us there? The Justice
Department?

1ST ATTORNEY
That's what I hear. Request en route.

JUDE
(to Milton)
Well, let's dig it out. Thank God, I
thought I was going to have to spend
my last day here drinking champagne --
I don't even like champagne. Com'on,
Milt, let's go.

They walk off. Second Attorney turns to First:

2ND ATTORNEY
Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me I didn't
fuck my promotion.
(slaps head)
Damn!

CUT TO:

EXT. JUSTICE DEPT. - DUSK

* Beretta coupe exits wrought deco gates, heads west on 9th
past FBI Building. Black-on-white Justice Dept. license plates
distinguish Jude's coupe from surrounding cars.

CUT TO:

EXT. KARIN'S APT. - NIGHT

Jude/Milton MOVING POV inside car: 2085 M Street appears
amid flashing red and yellow lights. D.C. police cordon off
reporters and onlookers. TWO PARAMEDICS rest against
ambulance, as if awaiting instructions.

* PATROLMAN recognizes Jude as Beretta parks. He escorts
Mazzo and Milton through crowd as pushing newsmen call, "Judi,
Judi." Mazzo acknowledges photo flashbulbs as he enters.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

"Evidence Gathering Technicians" take notes, collect
fingerprints, label evidence. Policeman crosses from living
room to kitchen. No one seems in a hurry. Faint red light
flashes below partially drawn window shade.

Two plainclothes officials chat casually near bedroom door.
DECT. GILBERT GIDEON, 48, FBI, speaks in tones befitting
seniority. LT. MICHAEL WEISS, 37, District of Columbia
Homicide Division, listens to Gideon, defers, smiles. Both
men, conservatively dressed, exude careerism: intense,
intelligent, well-exercised.

Jude's arrival causes immediate stir. They've been waiting
for him. Mazzo nods to others as he and Milton join Gideon
and Weiss, exchange handshakes:

DECT. GIDEON
Thanks for coming yourself, Mr.
Attorney. I know you're busy. You
know Lt. Weiss, D.C. Homicide -- ?

JUDE
(nods)
What took you so long to call in the
request, Gideon?
(to Weiss)
Just look, Lieutenant, and hope you
never know the hell of a FBI man
asking for help --

DECT. GIDEON
(defensive)
The Bureau can't afford mistakes. I
had to be certain of the foreign
policy ramifications. Then we found
this. Look.

Gideon takes bound leather address book from shelf, hands it
to Mazzo:

DECT. GIDEON
Her address book: diplomats, lefties,
lobbyists -- goddamn Who's Who. Just
look at the first name under "B."
Your name is even in there.

LT. WEISS
She cut out clippings of political
events, terrorist incidents, the New
York subway bomb --

JUDE
That too?

LT. WEISS
Post.

JUDE
Where is she?

DECT. GIDEON
In the bedroom.

JUDE
Let's take a look.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jude and others enter "boudoir" as Technicians collate
evidence. Jude, expressionless, scans room as if seeing it
for the first time. Adjusts his tie.

Bed furnishings, measured, labeled, remain as before. Karin's
body lies unmoved under pink sheets.

LT. WEISS
Karin Schreiber, 24, Dutch passport.

Jude pauses at portable tape player atop TV, depresses "play"
lever. Tape hiss followed by phone RING. Big Bopper answers
from two-inch speakers: "Hel-lo, ba-by. Yeah, this is the
Big Bopper Speakin.'"

JUDE
Pull back the sheets.

Mazzo watches as EVIDENCE GATHERING TECHNICIAN #1 unveils
Karin's body. Dry blood forms Rorschach stain beside her
neck. Jude tilts his head to study corpse: very sexy, very
Madame Tussard.

DECT. GIDEON
Clean razor wound. No trace of the
murder weapon.

JUDE
Cover her up. Who's name was the
apartment in?

Mazzo steps into bathroom, turns shower nozzle on and off.
Gideon ejects "Chantilly Lace" as others observe from bedroom.

LT. WEISS
Hers. The victim.

JUDE
The neighbor?

LT. WEISS
A doctor... A man completely above
suspicion. The other apartment vacant --

JUDE
And who gets everything? The husband?

LT. WEISS
Separated three years.

Mazzo examines tile floor; pink stain washes down drain.

JUDE
Bring him in for questioning.

Weiss eyeballs Gideon: whose case is it? D.C.P.D. or FBI?
Mazzo retraces steps through bedroom:

JUDE
Who's conducting the investigation?

LT. WEISS
Homicide --

DECT. GIDEON
FBI.

LT. WEISS
D.C. Homicide will continue its
investigation.

Gideon shrugs. Local cops are Gumbies in FBI world view.
Mazzo continues into kitchen.

DECT. GIDEON
Her address book?

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

Jude opens refrigerator door:

JUDE
Keep it. I want no coverup.

EVIDENCE GATHERING TECHNICIAN #2 approaches with stack of
black-and-white glossies.

TECHNICIAN #2
(eager)
Look, the victim posed for these
crime scene photographs. Like some
cheap magazine. Obviously taken by
an amateur.

Technician displays 8x10 "crime scene" stills. In each Karin
Schreiber is the "victim." Jude's eyes fix on photos. They
feature:

-- Karin, fully clothed, slumped against toilet bowl.

-- Karin, in bra and panties, face-down on carpet, plastic
fish in her mouth.

-- Karin, wearing only mini-skirt, draped over bed. Her body
covered with record albums and tapes.

Laughing VOICES initiate flashback.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

A year before. Jude and Karin at play, laughing as they stage
"crime scene" photos. Big Bopper sings on stereo.

Mazzo, hair tussled, wields Nikon like work tool. Barefoot,
he wears white shirt, dark trousers. He's ten pounds heavier.
Karin leans head against bureau.

JUDE
Don't move!

Jude snaps picture. FLASH!

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BATHROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

TIMECUT. "Seventy-six Trombones" plays as Karin poses over
toilet. She twists head, drops jaw, stares vacantly. Jude
moves erratically, testing camera angles, speaking as if
spellbound:

JUDE
...She was a SAS stewardess. Having
an affair with two different pilots --
both at 37,000 feet! We found her in
the ladies room at JFK, choked, just
like that. A real beauty. Hold it.

Mazzo snaps another pic -- FLASH! -- pulls Karin to feet:

JUDE
Who do you want to do now?

KARIN
The rock and roll singer! Julie!

JUDE
Right.

* SCREENWRITER'S NOTE: The choice of pop source music (with
the exception of "Chantilly Lace") is indicative, not
proscriptive. Jude is the product of rock and roll, more
Presley than politics. Source music should also provide ironic
counterpoint to action, reinforcing symbolic drama -- keeping
viewer at arm's length. Alternative titles, equally effective,
spring to mind: "Changes" by David Bowie, "Hanky Panky" by
Tommy James and the Shondells, "Man Machine" by Kraftwerk,
"Imagine" by John Lennon, etc.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

TIMECUT. Karin, mini-skirted, hangs half-naked over bed.
Joan Jett sings "I Love Rock and Roll." Jude narrates
scenario:

JUDE
...she's found in a cheap motel
outside Crisfield. Her tongue ripped
out, body covered with record albums
and tapes -- all sacred music...

Mazzo yanks albums from shelves, places them on Karin as she
hums mantra "om."

JUDE
...her boyfriend was a religious
fanatic, divinity school dropout --

KARIN
(objects)
No, he was an artist --

JUDE
-- we found him two blocks away in a
local bar, listening to her beautiful
voice coming from the jukebox like
an angel's.

He snaps again. FLASH! Karin returns to life:

KARIN
The revolutionary!

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S LIVING ROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

TIMECUT. Jude places Karin, wearing grey skirt and black
bra, on chaise as Village People repeat, "I'm a macho, macho
man..." Mazzo bounds about, ecstatic. Karin howls with
laughter.

They grow frenetic with each enactment. Their psyches meld
for a moment: is it sex or is it symbiosis? Jude circles:

JUDE
A young coed. University of Maryland.
Murdered by her sociology professor,
suffocated by $100 bills. Then raped
after she was dead...

Mazzo stuffs Kleenex in Karin's mouth, spreads her knees:

JUDE
...Spread your legs. Now don't move.

Click. FLASH! Karin removes tissues from mouth:

KARIN
But don't you get excited when they're
found like this?

JUDE
I was very excited by a case several
years ago.
(kneels beside her)
He had a device...
(voice trails off)

KARIN
Tell me about it.

JUDE
(embarrassed)
No, no, I can't.

Technician #2'S VOICE returns us to present:

TECHNICIAN #2 (V.O.)
Obviously the work of an amateur.

END OF FLASHBACK

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

U.S. Attorney Mazzo turns from "crime scene" photos, walks
over bloody footprints (now covered with plastic). Gideon
joins him from bedroom:

DECT. GIDEON
He must have been an idiot.

JUDE
Who?

DECT. GIDEON
The killer.

JUDE
Why is he an idiot?

DECT. GIDEON
Because of the way he acted. Stupidly
and arrogantly. He empties her jewelry
box but dosen't take the money. He
kills her, then marches into the
john to shower. Puts shoes on, leaves
footprints across kitchen. Just
stupid.

JUDE
According to you.

Mazzo and Gideon stare eye to eye; their rivalry rises to
surface. Gideon bites lip, represses resentment. "Just wait,"
Gideon's eyeballs say, "I too will have my day."

Jude puts his arm around Detective Gideon:

JUDE
You know I have put together a task
force for NATA, the new antiterror
agency, Gid, and I was thinking I
might have something that would
interest you.

Gideon's honored but wary. He quickly calculates pros and
cons:

DECT. GIDEON
God knows I'm flattered. Honest,
Jude. I'm just not sure I could work
for you --

JUDE
Name a position.

DECT. GIDEON
(shakes head)
I'm willing to be swallowed but not
digested. I don't want to end up in
the rectum.

JUDE
I respect that. I can respect dumb.

Mazzo walks back toward bedroom.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jude watches as Paramedics lower Karin's body onto stretcher,
looks to Milton and Weiss:

JUDE
I really wish it were the husband,
too. It would be easier.

CUT TO:

INT. LOBBY - NIGHT

Hawaiian silkscreens now top lit, hang on wall. Mazzo and
Milton cross as cops screen incoming residents. Ahead, TV
lights glare blindingly through front doors.

CUT TO:

EXT. KARIN'S APT. BLDG. - NIGHT

Reporters yell questions as Jude/Milton squeeze through press
gauntlet without comment. Mazzo turns to favor "Eyewitness
News" crew, recognizes dim profile in crowd: Ria Maled. Jude
quickly continues; Milt follows.

Mazzo subtly motions to SAM ZEGNER, 23, peach-fuzzed "print
journalist," as he and Avery approach Beretta. Jude points
to pay phone, dials in pantomine. Sam responds with nod as
Mazzo and Milton enter car, drive away.

Sam scurries to phone booth, inserts coin, punches dial
buttons: the Jimmy Olson illusion vanishes -- just another
headline whore.

CUT TO:

INT. BERETTA - NIGHT

Carphone RINGS. Jude picks up receiver as they drive south
through Georgetown. Sam speaks from M Street phone booth,
sometimes OFF SCREEN, sometimes ON SCREEN:

SAM
Rumor says we got a scandal. Great
going away present, huh, Attorney?
Or should I call you Director?
Congratulations by the way. So? So?

JUDE
It's still "Mr. Attorney" and no
comment, Sam.

SAM
Jude, please. I've got a lot of dirty
minds to feed.

JUDE
Just this -- but it didn't come from
me...

SAM
Of course not -- I'm not even on the
phone.

JUDE
The place reeked of sex. You can't
imagine. Unnatural acts. Really
disgusting -- and one other thing.
We didn't find any underwear in the
apartment. None. Not anywhere.

SAM
Sex crime?

JUDE
No, she just didn't wear any. Your
readers oughtta like that.

SAM
Great, I'll lead with it. Any names
involved? Diplomatic corps, I bet.
Right? Why else would you be there?
Must be big --

JUDE
False alarm, nothing there. The Bureau
and D.C.P.D. will investigate -- if
they can stop pissin on each other.
(a beat)
Go for the crime-of-passion, Sam.
Lead with the domestic angle, follow
with the kink. Play up the husband.
He's the key. Trust me. Do this for
me, okay?

SAM
Great, thanks.
(Jude hangs up)

Mazzo doesn't bother with goodbyes. Conversation terminated.
Never transpired.

Georgetown U. shops and bars pass right and left. Milton
hasn't spoken for some time. Jude turns to him:

JUDE
I want you to keep me informed on
this Schreiber case, Milt. Keep on
it.

MILTON
From the Justice Department? I don't
even know what my job will be after
you leave. I may not have access. I
may not have a desk.

JUDE
What do you mean, Justice Department?
(a beat)
Didn't I tell you?

MILTON
(confused)
What?

JUDE
Do you think I'd let someone as good
as you slip through my hands? You're
coming with me to NATA -- as first
or second assistant, unless something
else, of course. I told you weeks
ago.

Avery's palpably relieved. His fear of being left behind had
become an obsession. He would have, of course, remembered an
earlier offer -- that's for sure! -- no matter now.

MILTON
I remember now...

JUDE
Maybe I wasn't clear.

MILTON
I appreciate the faith you have in
me. I won't let you down.

CUT TO:

EXT. WASHINGTON HARBOUR - NIGHT

Later that night. Beretta drives under Whitehurst Freeway,
turns in sprawling commercial/residential complex -- the
"Washington Harbour" development, completion date 1987,
Postmodern equivalent of Watergate Office Building: just as
ugly, twice as trendy. On the Potomac, south of Georgetown,
Washington Harbour boasts Cuisinart mix of arches, ariels,
bays and balconies -- a yuppie Watts Towers.

Jude parks in assigned space, enters door flanked by
ornamental columns. Lawn lights exaggerate structure's fairy
tale architecture.

CUT TO:

INT. 1ST FLOOR HALL - NIGHT

He passes mirror of trompe l'oeil wallpaper, waits for
elevator, steps in as doors close.

CUT TO:

INT. 2ND FLOOR HALL - NIGHT

Jude rounds corner, approaches through corridor of "Etruscan"
murals. Each floor has distinct decor -- each a tier of
tackiness.

Mazzo withdraws keys, unlocks apartment door.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Jude strides across rectangle room overlooking Potomac.
Arlington County glistens out the window. Furniture and found
objects sit at odd angles; behind, a Shaker pew is stacked
with file cartons. "Superman" pinball machine stands behind.

Brian Ferry croons "The Stroll" from vintage Rockola jukebox;
Jude's footsteps echo Ferry's beat. He loosens his tie.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S OFFICE - NIGHT

Jude closes door, sits at custom-made desk -- crescent slab
of green marble atop Mission Style base. Faded "Washington
Senators" pennant hangs between celebrity photos. Bookshelves
blanket the adjoining walls. CNN plays silently on desktop
TV.

Jude removes Karin's purloined necklace, unwraps it. After
brief glimpse, he rewraps necklace in handkerchief, locks it
in desk drawer.

Mazzo stares at black phone. It RINGS OFF SCREEN.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Mazzo rolls around sheets, unable to sleep. OFF SCREEN
telephone RINGS. Karin speaks in flashback:

KARIN (V.O.)
Mr. Attorney? You don't know me. How
could you? We never met. Think I go
around with cops?...

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Eighteen months before. Karin, wearing brown negligee, sits
on bed, speaks on phone. Poising finger over disconnect
button, she laughs into receiver. Dialogue continuous from
previous scene:

KARIN
(Taunting)
...Who am I? Maybe I'm a terrorist.
One of the two thousand terrorists
running free you talk so much about.
Bet you think you're sexy in those
discount suits that bulge up the
crotch?
(a beat)
What's my name?
(laughs)
Why don't you find out? You're so
smart. Always giving interviews,
being photographed -- speaking of
which, you should lose some weight.
(hangs up)

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Similar day. Karin, half in negligee, stretches through sheets
as she speaks to Jude, insinuating phone sex like sorority
cockteaser.

KARIN
...Mr. United States Attorney. Such
a man. Can't even find a horny
terrorist sympathizer. Can't even
find an obscene caller, the most
obvious thing in the world, an obscene
caller, naked, lying here, feeling
herself, thinking about Mr. U.S.
Attorney thinking about me in his
ugly black shoes all cops wear, with
Vibram soles...

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Similar day. Karin, in open robe, bolts upright in bed. Her
phone montage continues:

KARIN
(faking fear)
...Oh, help me, help me! Mr. Attorney,
someone is breaking into my apartment.
He's crazy. I think he's tapping my
phone. He's trying to get me! He
wants to rape me!
(looks up)
He's here now! And he has no pants
on!
(falls back)
I'm all alone with the man who will
rape me. That's my destiny. I need
you...

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BATHROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Similar day. Karin, on phone, smoking cigarette, soaks in
steamy tub. Bath water reveals her body.

KARIN
...always in black -- did somebody
die on you?
(a beat)
Don't kid yourself. You don't appeal
to me. You're just a typical little
man with a typical belly, a
bureaucrat. I imagine you must sweat
and wear cheap musk aftershave --
certainly not my favorite...

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - EVENING -FLASHBACK-

Similar day. Last sun glows through translucent window shades.
Karin, nude but for lace shawl, leans cross-legged on bed.
Brown phone rests strategically atop her crotch. Black cord
runs between her thighs, across her breasts. Karin steadies
base with one hand, fingers cord with other as she continues
in medias res:

KARIN
...a D.A. must know a million secrets,
just like a priest. Actually it's
your mind I like. I admire all police.
I'd love to be a stoolie. If you
gave me the third degree I would do
anything.
(listens: flares)
Do that with your mother 'cause she's
used to it!

On screen, old building burns inaudibly -- it could be a
news report, it could be a movie.

SOUND: front door opening. Squeaky FOOTSTEPS. She flips off
tube, twists head:

KARIN
Who is it?

Door latches shut. Black shoes enter screen left. With Vibram
soles. Jude steps in, speaking on wireless phone. He has
been conversing en route.

JUDE
Police.

Mazzo, sweaty, Nixon-eyed, enters in ill-fit black suit,
white shirt, wrinkled tie. Matted clump of hair hangs on
forehead. Stomach paunch stretches shirt. No cool Jude, this.

He crosses living area, stands in boudoir. Karin slams
receiver down, makes no attempt to cover herself:

KARIN
It's you, Mr. Attorney. I thought it
was either the police or a junkie.

Jude rests receiver on table, suspiciously sniffs hand-rolled
cigarette, replaces butt in ashtray. Karin rolls over,
wrapping bod in bed sheets. Mazzo circles:

JUDE
What do you want from me?

KARIN
Just a little fun.

JUDE
Why didn't you call the Vice
Department?

KARIN
(insulted)
What kind of girl do you think I am?

Jude withdraws a stapled stack of phone bills from vest
pocket, displays them:

JUDE
Your phone calls this year. You know
these people? 244-4832? Huh?

KARIN
They're friends.

JUDE
They're terrorists -- suspected
terrorists, or sympathizers.

KARIN
I don't care about politics.

JUDE
They're criminals. Murderers.

Karin leans back.

JUDE
Did you really think you were going
to get away with it?

She shifts onto side, revealing bare breast, aroused aureola,
nipple. Soothing strip of naked skin runs length of Karin's
body, over hill, over dale. She turns to Jude with o-so brutal
bedroom eyes:

KARIN
What are you going to do with me now
that you found me, Mr. Attorney?
Torture me? Just a little?

END OF FLASHBACK

CUT TO:

INT. JUSTICE DEPT. RECEPTION HALL - DAY

TV lights harshly illuminate the Grand Reception Hall: a
press conference is underway. Deco room is dominated by WPA
aluminum statues, one on either side of stage. Semi-nude 12-
foot figures, male and female, symbolize "The Spirit of
Justice" (female) and "The Majesty of the Law" (male).

On stage, Jude Mazzo stands out in a line of look-alike
bureaucrats. The more inconspicuous he tries to appear, the
more conspicuous he is. He's the star here and knows it.

Press listens patiently as ATTORNEY GENERAL WILLIAM GABRIEL
reads prepared remarks. Gabriel, 60, bald, counter-points
jutting jaw with sympathetic expression. ASSISTANT A.G.,
40ish, button-down career type, stands beside him.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Just as the early years of this
century demanded a new law enforcement
bureau, the FBI, so these difficult
times require a new, independent
antiterrorist agency, NATA, which
will coordinate efforts of the Justice
and State Departments, Army, Navy,
Air Force, Marine Corps, FBI, CIA,
NSC and agencies of friendly
governments...

TIMECUT. Jude, at podium, concludes statement with "Thank
you."

Press jumps to life. Questions fly. Here's a man to their
liking. Here's a man who can sell newspapers.

Jude is at ease, confident. He mixes sincerity with affability --
the mark of a political star. We hear, in JUMP CUTS, his
answers:

JUDE
There may be some inter-agency
friction at first -- even "rivalry"
as you suggest. NATA isn't the
problem, it's the answer.
(jump cut)
My father was a proud man, not wealthy
but proud. It hurt him so much to
hear and read the things people said
about Italian-Americans. He wanted
his son to be a lawyer so others
wouldn't think we were gangsters, so
others would know we loved America
too.
(jump cut)
My "high profile"? I'm glad you asked
that -- again. I've always felt law
enforcement is meant to be high
profile. The United States shouldn't
hide from terrorists -- they don't
respect cowardice or vacillation.
Terrorists know who I am and where
to find me. If you want to call that
high profile -- well, go ahead. I
have no desire to be high profile
for myself. My goal is to become
unknown. The better I do my job the
sooner I'll be unknown. In five years
I plan to be a trivia question.

Reporters laugh. Others, younger, watch enrapted.

CUT TO:

EXT. NATA HEADQUARTERS - DAY

West Washington is Capitol's current architectural showcase.
Post-modern structures stand shoulder to shoulder along M
Street from 24th to 22nd. Similar buildings -- replete with
arches and domes -- dot surrounding streets.

NATA headquarters occupies three-story townhouse near 24th
and M. Its facade has been restyled to match neighborhood.
No identifying sign or plaque. Only a concrete curbside
barrier indicates nature of building. Uniformed officer in
doorway.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA CORRIDOR - DAY

Inside, townhouse is maze of renovation. Building has been
gutted and redesigned, custom-fitted with latest law
enforcement technology.

Workmen paint unfinished trim as Director Mazzo leads phalanx
of subordinates down corridor. The new staffers, young,
unflapable, radiate self-confidence. Jude has chosen the
best and brightest. Milton and Alan, Executive Assistant
from scene 17, follow him.

They wear laminated identification tags around necks. All
federal employees and visitors must display color-coded tags
indicating their department and security status. Jude, Milt
and Alan pass through metal detector as guard glances at
their tags.

Additional staffers stand outside conference room as Jude
and others enter, exchange greetings.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Assigned representatives from various law enforcement agencies
sit at lined rows of tables. Name cards identify each: State
Dept, Defense Dept, Joint Chiefs, FBI, IG/T, NSC, various
state and local police. NATA staffers occupy chairs behind
them.

Vacant folding table faces the others. NATA seal hangs behind
table. Room is quiet, as if gossip were a security breach.

Then, suddenly, Jude strides through, laughing and talking.
Everyone rises. Jude calls out:

JUDE
Sit down, please! And loosen up! It
feels like goddamn Bulgaria in here.

They chuckle, comply. Jude takes a beat, says as he sits:

JUDE
Just remember to loosen up real tight.

Laughter. Mazzo unfolds prepared remarks as he surveys room.
He's seen from many points of view, some quick, some in
motion:

JUDE
I wanted to bring all the agencies
and departments together if only for
this first meeting. We're all now
part of NATA.
(speaks from notes)
I'm not a politician but I've been
put in charge of a political agency.
That's different from my old job of
prosecuting criminals. Isn't it
significant to you that this
administration choose a man like me
at a time like this to direct so
sensitive an agency? Consider the
reasons they singled me out. Let's
glance at criminal acts and political
acts. The simple basic truth is there
is no distinction at all today --
they're alike, the activist and the
criminal.
(passionate)
Here's a rule and you better start
to memorize it! In every criminal
there is a subversive and in every
subversive there is a criminal! No
wonder we find terrorists so often
involved in crimes like kidnapping
and robbery. The difference between
those who rob banks and those
spreading terror is too small to be
taken into account. They have the
same objective, the criminal and the
terrorist, even though they use
different means: they want to overturn
our present social order, our way of
life! The Law shall prevail against
upheaval. The Law is permanent and
timeless, like sculpture, like a
temple. They call this "The Age of
Terrorism" -- and it's easy to see
why. Governments cower as their
leaders wheel and deal with criminals.
Nations are held hostage by thugs
and vandals. Cowardice is called
diplomacy. The Law is mocked. Justice
walks the streets like a whore. And
what do we do? We defenders of the
Law? We watch in disarray, play
politics, blame each other.
(emphatic)
No more. Remember this day. It marks
the end of the Age of Terrorism. The
Law will be redeemed!
(stands)
The Law is the answer! America is
back!

Others burst into spontaneous applause as they rise.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA COMPUTER CENTER - DAY

Mazzo and VICTOR, 30, NATA archivist, enter micro-chip brain
bank center. They pass high-tech cubicles, each with computer
terminal. The room's almost ready. A few employees are already
on the job. Across room, electricians rewire switch box.

All rows lead to "supercomputer" with four bug-eye screens.
They approach as COMPUTER TECHNICIAN programs console. Victor,
all business, speaks with deceptive drawl:

VICTOR
Each terminal feeds into the super-
computer, we call it "Big Moma,"
which connects to NCIC at FBI and
select access at Langley. NCIC alone
can handle 400,000 requests a day.
Cross-filed information on every
organization in the world. Every
felon, every taxpayer. Every time
anybody ever plugged into the system --
it's all here. Completely legal, too --
with memory hide just in case.

Technician steps away as Jude examines supercomputer:

JUDE
How is it cross-filed?

VICTOR
For the core group we index
everything: political hist, psych
pro, explosives, sex, money, travel,
friends, hairstyle -- you name it. I
can give you a list of all known
radicals with bowel problems. You'd
be surprised how many there are.

JUDE
They say information is power.

VICTOR
Then you've got a lot of it.

JUDE
This is the real revolution, eh? Can
I give this thing a whirl?

VICTOR
It's a little tricky, Director.

Vic sits, activates quad screens:

VICTOR
What's your pleasure?

JUDE
(pacing)
Let's try the Schreiber case. First
name Karin. Born 7-22-63. Murder.
Motive was political. M Street--

VICTOR
(punching keyboard)
Address?

JUDE
2085. Apartment 5C.

Victor enters data at wiz kid speed. Lower monitor flashes
with facts.

VICTOR
Let's start there. Known political
contacts. Occupant history of
building.

Jude watches as info fills second screen:

JUDE
Any luck?

VICTOR
Who is this girl? Looks like she
banged every Red group in Europe --
plus a couple I never heard of. You
want this on screen or should I print
it out?

JUDE
Print it out.

Victor flicks switch. Mazzo reads from printer as it rat-tat-
tats toilet roll of data re Schreiber.

VICTOR
There's probably some fabrication.
Realized she was under surveillance.
God knows how much time we spend
filing disinformation. Okay, here we
go. Schreiber contact, anarchist,
now resident 2085 M Street.

JUDE
Were they lovers?

VICTOR
Not here.

JUDE
Let's see him.

VICTOR
No color.

JUDE
Black and white's fine.

Vic reads screen aloud as picture rises from photofax.
Enlarged snapshot shows young Ria Maled amid protesters, his
face circled.

VICTOR
Born Torino, 9-11-64. Most this from
Interpol. Red Brigades. Four arrests
in Italy, one Germany. No convictions.
Been quiet last couple years.

Jude rips photo fresh from machine. CLOSE-UP of Ria.

JUDE
Do we have a tap on his phone?

VICTOR
(checks)
Since 1985.

Mazzo scrunches up his face with hand:

JUDE
Look at that face! A real killer's
face! I'll see to it the bastard
gets put away.

CUT TO:

EXT. JUSTICE DEPT. - DAY

Out-of-context legend "Framed Through Mutual Confidence"
engraved high on east facade.

CUT TO:

INT. JUSTICE DEPT. - DAY

A mural tribute to the common man surrounds deco entrance:
"Office of the Attorney General." A cleric passes. VOICES
from within.

CUT TO:

INT. ATTORNEY GENERAL'S OFFICE - DAY

Attorney General Gabriel warmly greets Jude at his desk. WPA
decor is discretely carried over into office.

Assistant A.G. stands beside bookshelves. Gabriel dismisses
him with flick of eye. Assistant exits with lacky alacrity.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
So, Jude? Satisfied?

Mazzo sits straight in Eileen Gray chair. Jude's tone varies,
at times impassioned, other times hurt, coy, ingratiating --
but always calculated:

JUDE
Fine. Though sometimes I think I'm
being set up, you know, the scapegoat
for all this inter-agency feuding. I
wouldn't want a scandal. I know the
President views this seriously --

ATTORNEY GENERAL
(wisecracks)
The President views movies seriously.

JUDE
What I really need is a great many
more permanent members at my disposal --
perhaps a hundred. The country is
frightened. And more funding so we
could pay our informers better.

Gabriel paces, examines object d'art, returns to seat:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
I'll bring it up.

JUDE
And what I would like, really like...
(hesitates)

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Go on.

JUDE
...really like maybe three apartments
in various capitals, in quiet
neighborhoods, practical, my
informants could be there and
establish the kind of relationship
that is more... confidential than it
is now. Terrorists have state
sponsors, more resources --

ATTORNEY GENERAL
It's not that bad. You act like they
blew up your office.

JUDE
I'd rather act than react, sir.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
(stung)
You can have your apartments. But,
officially, my office must know
nothing.

JUDE
My staff has prepared a list of
another 200 suspicious persons and
taps must really go on their phones.
Now I don't know how the Department
okays this. Must I make an official
request or what?

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Taken care of.
(looks up)
Anything else?

JUDE
Oh yes, there's that extraordinary
killer they're trying to find.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
The Schreiber case.

JUDE
Mrs. Karin Schreiber.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Beautiful woman. I've seen her
photograph.

JUDE
(sheepish)
Well, I, ah, used to know her. In
fact she and I had... a little...
affair.

Gabriel smiles, impressed:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Not bad.
(lascivious)
How was she? Good?

JUDE
(awkward)
Well... not bad...
(hesitates)
Well, I wanted to know if I should
inform the agents who are on it. I
don't know, I really don't.

Gabriel stands without comment, terminates meeting:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
(pleasant)
Good day.

JUDE
Is that all?

Attorney Gabriel escorts Mazzo to door like proud father:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
That's it.
(shakes Jude's hand)
They're all watching you, Jude. You've
made quite an impression. You've got
the press like this:
(cups hand)
There's one thing I don't understand.
Why do you think people like you so?

Jude answers without hesitation, as if stating a simple fact:

JUDE
(ingenuous)
I make 'em feel good.

Gabriel nods, walks toward desk, turning to Jude as Mazzo
exits:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
The husband. It must be him.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S JUSTICE DEPT. OFFICE - DAY

Lt. Weiss watches as Mazzo packs memorabilia in Bekins box:
ceremonial paperweight, photos, etc. His office is half-empty,
stripped of non-institutional furnishings. Jude's moving to
NATA.

LT. WEISS
Sure I can't help, Director?

JUDE
Almost done. First rule of public
service: pack quick. I'll be at NATA
tomorrow. You started to brief me on
the Schreiber case -- I hate to see
my last case unsolved. It's like
leaving dirty laundry -- Milt shoulda
been here by now.

LT. WEISS
You know there's this jurisdictional
thing between us and FBI. Day to
day, D.C. gets nothing from the
Bureau. But come a sexy case and
they're all over us, pulling rank,
taking credit. I'm sick of it.

JUDE
Too bad you couldn't come with me to
NATA.

LT. WEISS
Huh?

JUDE
I wanted you.

LT. WEISS
You know I --

JUDE
It was just that damn N.C. urine
test. Winston-Salem, 1979, with minute
traces of you-know-what -- and it's
not just me who knows.

LT. WEISS
(panic)
It was a college thing, honest. They
said it was off the books. I know it
was --

JUDE
Don't worry. It's under control.
I'll just bring you in later.

LT. WEISS
Believe me --

JUDE
I do. Don't apologize.
(looks up)
Here's Milton.
(to Milt)
Where were you? Lt. Weiss was bringing
me up to date on Schreiber.

MILTON
(nods to Weiss)
I've already heard.

Lt. Weiss recites report:

LT. WEISS
Looks like you were right on the
husband. We tracked him, then Gideon
pulled rank, took him to FBI. I hear
he's babbling like a brook. Guess
what? The lab crew turned up a pale
blue thread from under the victim's
fingernail. A single strand. It must
come from the killer's tie.

JUDE
His tie?

MILTON
Yeah, his tie.

JUDE
(scornful)
First you told me the killer was
nude, in the sex act, now he's humping
nude with a blue tie on -- right?

Weiss and Milton, chagrined, exchange exculpatory glances.

LT. WEISS
We're waiting for the thread analysis.
And there are the fingerprints, of
course. They're at FBI too. There's
nothing solid there. Only yours.

JUDE
Only mine!

CUT TO:

EXT. FBI BUILDING - AFTERNOON

Amber-lit in brutal majesty. FEMALE VOICE heard from within:

FINGERPRINT ANALYST (O.S.)
...surprisingly little considering
the circumstances. The victim's
prints, those of the cleaning woman,
irretrievable grease-marks...

CUT TO:

INT. LATENT FINGERPRINT ANALYSIS UNIT - AFTERNOON

CLOSE-UP: back-lit slides of fingerprints taken from crime
scene. Uninflected VOICE continues:

F'PRINT ANALYST (O.S.)
...perhaps the killer cleaned up,
perhaps he wore gloves --

JUDE
He?

Mazzo, Gideon, Milton and Weiss flank Bryn Mawrish FBI
FINGERPRINT ANALYST, 26. Male colleagues work nearby. LFAU
lab is immaculate.

DECT. GIDEON
Judging from wound and bruises,
assailant is male, well-built, perhaps
short in stature.

Description fits Jude.

F'PRINT ANALYST
(points)
These are Director Mazzo's.

Lt. Weiss leans to examine slides:

LT. WEISS
Here's the shower faucet -- you turned
it on. The refrigerator handle.
Several from a drinking glass.

MILTON
(unctuous)
You had a drink of water, remember,
Director? You weren't feeling well.

Dect. Gideon watches as Weiss and Milton vie to rationalize
Jude's fingerprints.

LT. WEISS
(describing slide)
The telephone --

MILTON
You made a call. I saw you.

LT. WEISS
The tape deck. You played that.
(to Gideon)
What about the thread? From the tie?

Gideon takes moment to answer:

DECT. GIDEON
At Fiber Analysis. They say it may
be unique, even traceable -- a long
shot. Sky blue, silk --
(to Jude)
I seem to remember you were wearing
a tie like that the day of the murder.
A coincidence, but do you remember
by any chance where you bought it?

Gideon stares at Jude: his tone's innocent but his eyes are
ice. Milton shifts uncomfortably; Weiss coughs. Jude,
oblivious, wrinkles brow:

JUDE
Boy, I can't..., I'll have to check
the label...

MILTON
It's all moot anyway. The husband's
gonna confess. I hear it's just a
matter of time. Just like you thought,
a crime of passion.

LT. WEISS
(to Gideon)
What a disappointment for the FBI.

DECT. GIDEON
(to Weiss)
A tribute to superior police work.

JUDE
Where is he?

CUT TO:

INT. FBI CORRIDOR - AFTERNOON

Interrogation is heard OFF SCREEN as Jude walks through
concrete passageway, turns corner. Gideon, Milton and Weiss
follow.

CUT TO:

INT. OBSERVATION ROOM/INTERROGATION ROOM - AFTERNOON

Mazzo enters tiny OBSERVATION ROOM, stands before one-way
mirror. FBI TYPES step back as Milt and Weiss squeeze behind
Jude.

Framed in Interrogation Room mirror, TWO FBI INTERROGATORS
grill GEORGES SCHREIBER, 42, Karin's ex-husband -- survivor
of three revolutions: sexual, political, drug. He lost all
three.

Gideon bypasses Observation Room, enters INTERROGATION ROOM
where Georges sits slumped in lone chair. Jude and others
watch through mirror as Interrogators harrangue Georges:

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
Why didn't you divorce your wife?

FBI INTERROGATOR #2
Let's be blunt. Why mince words?
Weren't you a practicing homosexual
at the time you separated from Mrs.
Schreiber?

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
You faggot!

FBI INTERROGATOR #2
Didn't she catch you taking her money
to buy little boys on P Street?

Interrogators nod to Gideon as he joins them. Georges
protests:

GEORGES
It wasn't like that. Don't put it
like that. I loved her. I really
did.

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
(circling)
Is that so?

DECT. GIDEON
Make up your mind. You might as well.
We know everything about you.

Inside OBSERVATION ROOM, Weiss and others watch interrogation
like it's a play. Milton whispers to Jude:

MILTON
He's trying to get sympathy. He won't
last long.

BACK IN INTERROGATION ROOM:

DECT. GIDEON
Okay, Georges, you're an artist, a
decorator, a sensitive person. We'll
try to help you. Just tell us the
whole story. Slowly, calmly. Start
with the morning your wife Karin was
killed.

GEORGES
I already told you.

DECT. GIDEON
Tell us again.

GEORGES
I had picked up my car. I was back
on the Beltway. You couldn't get
where you were going. Traffic was
backed up, at a standstill --

In OBSERVATION ROOM, man comments:

FBI TYPE
That's the truth.

In INTERROGATION ROOM, Georges continues:

GEORGES
-- millions of cars. Everyone honking
their horns.

Interrogator #1 snorts with disgust; #2 chuckles: Georges
plaintively pans from one to other.

GEORGES
I'm answering everything you ask.
I'm telling you everything Honest.

DECT. GIDEON
(tough)
Hah! Not quite everything. No, you
haven't talked at all about
everything.
(grabs Georges' hair)
For example, you haven't talked about
how you used your wife to push your
career until she refused. You didn't
tell us that, a friend of yours told
us...

OBSERVATION ROOM. Mazzo watches as Karin introduces flashback:

KARIN (V.O.)
I've got a way to wake you up...

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Nine months before. Jude, wearing white dress shirt and jockey
shorts, snores face-up on sheets. Karin, in negligee, bends
over him, shakes Jude's shoulders.

KARIN
...Third degree me. Get up, do
something. Don't sleep.

JUDE
Leave me alone.

KARIN
Com'on, I like it when you question
me. You're so suspicious of me -- it
reminds me of my father. Com'on,
third degree me. Interrogate me.

Mazzo bolts up as Karin pushes something under his nose. He
stands, yanks her off bed:

JUDE
Alright, first get off the bed. Off
the bed! Now get down on your knees!
(pushes her to floor)
Straighten up! Straight!

Jude steps to bureau, lights cigarette, sits with detached
cool of experienced interrogator. Karin giggles:

KARIN
The silent treatment, right? That
comes first to scare them.

JUDE
Straighten up.

She does. Mazzo walks over, circles her closely, looking
askance like a Caesar:

JUDE
Now imagine the terrible hours ahead
of you. The cruel questions, the
constant tricks, the threats.
Everything. Try to recall the most
shameful, the dirtiest things you
ever did. Think about the fact that
I will discover all these secrets
because the government offers me the
means to strip you down to anything
I want.
(slaps her)
Straighten up! You begin to think of
all the hidden sins you've committed.
Your quilt complex takes over.

KARIN
(girlish)
That's not frightening. Third degree
me. Be my terrorist.

Jude cradles her face in his hands:

JUDE
You want me to interrogate you? To
frighten you?

Karin nods grinning. He sharply twists her ear; she howls.

JUDE
Talk, talk! Tell me your most shameful
secrets. Confess everything, the
little sins you commit everyday.
Then I'll forgive you and protect
you.

KARIN
(excited)
You treat them like babies.

JUDE
Everyone becomes a child again when
confronted by official authority. By
the power that belongs to the police.
(slaps her)
Sit up straight!
(slaps her again)
Listen. Don't move. The Law. All
laws, conscious and unconscious laws,
make the accused become like a child.
(demented)
The accuser becomes the father, the
perfect father that cannot be
attacked, that must be pleased at
any price!
(contorts expression)
My face starts to be God's face to
you! It's a game staged to touch off
your deepest fears.

Mazzo glances at Karin's now anxious face. He picks bouquet
of dried flowers from wastebasket, speaks in soothing tones:

JUDE
Hey, don't look so worried.
(sits alongside)
I'm trying to explain this whole
mentality because you can't see that
it's the basis, the whole foundation
of official authority. Professors,
doctors, heads of political parties,
even ticket takers.

KARIN
You're much more like a child than
any father, believe me, you're --

Jude muzzles Karin with dead bouquet mid-sentence, pushes
her prone to floor:

JUDE
You shouldn't have said that. The
others are children. Here...

Jude arranges flowers around her face, says playfully:

JUDE
...Now I'll show you how we found
that whore in the medical office!

END OF FLASHBACK

CUT TO:

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - AFTERNOON

Five sweaty Interrogators surround Georges. INTERROGATOR #3,
apprentice addition, wipes foggy glasses on sleeve. Georges
Schreiber, dehydrated, maintains innocence:

GEORGES
-- I just told you --

FBI INTERROGATOR #2
(hostile)
When you gonna give up that phoney
traffic jam story?

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
Fag bullshit.

GEORGES
Please, I told you...

Interrogation's getting nowhere. Gideon backs FBI boys off:

DECT. GIDEON
Okay, okay, wait, wait. Let's leave
Mr. Schreiber alone for awhile. All
by yourself. That way you can decide
what you should do. What the truth
is. The rest of you, step out with
me.

Interrogators leave with Gideon.

CUT TO:

INT. INTERROGATION CORRIDOR - AFTERNOON

Jude exits Observation Room, joins as Gideon calms
Interrogators:

DECT. GIDEON
It's alright, take a break...

JUDE
(to Gideon)
You yell so loud. Why do you guys
yell so loud?

DECT. GIDEON
(frustrated)
I yell so loud because I learned
from you. Okay?

Mazzo doesn't answer, walks into Interrogation Room. Gideon
waits till Jude's gone:

DECT. GIDEON
Why doesn't he mind his own business?
He's got his own agency now.

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
He likes to interfere.

DECT. GIDEON
Let him try.

CUT TO:

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - AFTERNOON

Georges, hunched over, turns as Jude squats beside chair.
Mazzo offers cigarette:

JUDE
A cliché -- take it anyway.
(Georges does)
You decorated Ambassador Arburg's
house, right? In Arlington?

Georges acknowledges as Jude lights trembling cigarette.

JUDE
I thought so. All modern -- in a
contemporary way.
(Georges flattered)
Mr. Schreiber, when was the last
time you saw your wife?

GEORGES
Two weeks prior to the murder. But I
was in touch cause I was being
threatened. This man. Somebody who
called.

JUDE
Who was he?

GEORGES
I don't know. Anonymous phone calls.
He called me late once, twice. He
had the tone of someone who commands
others.

JUDE
Why did they do it?

GEORGES
They had fun making me suffer.
Humiliating me. I'm so confused.
Maybe I did kill her.

JUDE
What did he threaten you with? This
unknown caller?

GEORGES
He would say to me, "I'm gonna tell
the cops today you're a transvestite."
I think he's someone important Karin
knew. An army man maybe, I don't
know. Or, or a politician. Some people
said she was a terrorist sympathizer
but she liked any man with lots of
power.

JUDE
The name. Tell me what the name is.

GEORGES
I don't know. If I did, I wouldn't
be here. That man's the murderer.

JUDE
(face to face)
So you never knew his name? Right?

GEORGES
No. The man never told it.

Jude offers his hand. Georges takes it, stands.

JUDE
You'll be getting out. Don't worry
at all about it.

GEORGES
(confused)
Thanks.

Jude walks out.

CUT TO:

INT. INTERROGATION HALLWAY - AFTERNOON

Gideon and FBI Interrogators meet Jude outside door.

DECT. GIDEON
Well?

JUDE
(effeminate)
The poor boy is innocent.

They all laugh.

DECT. GIDEON
You don't mean that?

JUDE
I promise you he's innocent.

Others watch as he walks off.

CUT TO:

EXT. NATA HDQTS - NIGHT

Only a few lights dot the nocturnal complex.

Jude Mazzo's office window shines particularly bright. THe
others have gone appropriately home.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S NATA OFFICE - NIGHT

Jude listens to cheap tape cassette player as he does sit-
ups. He's alone with moment of truth:

JUDE'S VOICE
"At 10 a. m., May 7, I entered the
apartment of Karin Schreiber and
killed her. Her murder was
premeditated..."

JUDE
(overlapping)
...meditated...

JUDE'S VOICE
"...There is only one extenuating
circumstance."

TIMECUT. Later. Jude, in black suit and tie, sits at desk.
Cassette player continues:

JUDE'S VOICE
"The victim systematically..."

JUDE/JUDE'S VOICE
...made a laughing-stock of me.

JUDE'S VOICE
"...I left clues everywhere not
purposely to sidetrack the
investigation..."

Jude cuts off tape, continues confession from memory, his
arms swinging:

JUDE
...Not purposely to sidetrack the
investigation but to prove the case.
To prove the case.

Jude restarts cassette:

JUDE'S VOICE
"I left clues everywhere, not
purposely to sidetrack the
investigation, but to prove the case.
To prove the case."

JUDE
To prove the case. To prove the case.

Mazzo rewinds, restarts recording:

JUDE'S VOICE
"To prove the case. To prove the
case. The case that I am a man
completely above suspicion."

Jude rewinds, echos confession from memory, his arms swinging:

JUDE/JUDE'S VOICE
...that I am a man completely above
suspicion.

JUDE'S VOICE
"...It was an idea that took control
of me. There were..."

JUDE/JUDE'S VOICE
(tape pause)
...extenuating circumstances.

CUT TO:

EXT. L'ENFANT PLAZA - LATE NIGHT

Mazzo, clutching bulky 8x14 envelope, walks briskly across
L'Enfant Plaza in south Washington. Square red granite
structures enclose sterile courtyard. I.M. Pei's International
Style complex is empty by night, eerie as Ozymandias.

Jude passes fountain lit by yellow globes, stops outside
Postal Service West Building; he places stamped/addressed
enevelope in mail box, enters deluxe L'Enfant Plaza Hotel.

CUT TO:

INT. L'ENFANT HOTEL LOBBY - LATE NIGHT

Jude dials from phone cubicle in deserted ostentatious
"concourse." He hovers over receiver, places handkerchief to
mouth as call RINGS in earpiece. Sam Zegner, hotshot reporter
from scene 30, answers sleepily:

SAM (O.S.)
Yes?

JUDE
(disguises voice)
Sam Zegner? Crime desk?

SAM (O.S.)
Yeah, who's this?

JUDE
I can't tell you who this is. They've
got my phone tapped.

SAM (O.S.)
Is this a joke or what?

JUDE
Listen. D.C. Homicide will tomorrow
receive an envelope containing the
necklace of the murdered woman Karin
Schreiber, the killer's razor blade.
That rules out the husband.

SAM (O.S.)
Why are you trying to disguise your
voice? I recognized you right away.

Jude quickly hangs up, heart pounding, face flushed.

CUT TO:

INT. COMPUTER CENTER - DAY

NATA's nerve center is fully operational. Rows of isolated
young men and women work silently in computer cubicles. Some
replay wiretap tapes on headphones; others enter data, take
notes.

Jude and Alan check out cubicles as they stride toward
supercomputer. Pretty programmer in Fair Isle sweater glances
at Jude flirtatiously, returns to monitor. Victor and Computer
Technician work at Big Moma console.

JUDE
(to Alan)
...if the government doesn't attack
terrorism, pornography, drugs, who
will? The Civil Liberties Union? The
press? The ASPCA? Of course we have
personal rights -- society has greater
rights! Society has the right to
defend itself by whatever means
necessary. Whatever means necessary.

Mazzo interrupts Victor:

JUDE
The new taps should be in -- huh,
Victor?

VICTOR
About half, Director, but please,
don't take on more taps without
additional staff. We're backlogged.
We just label and file most of them.
Look --

Vic punches out successive screens of coded info: phone
numbers, initials, dates, etc.

VICTOR
These are just the current taps.
There's a million hours in storage,
known but to God. We pulled and
collated the Ria Maled taps you
wanted. About 30 hours. The most
recent two days ago. They're in your
office. Great office, by the way,
Director.

VOICE calls "Director Mazzo." Jude turns as Lt. Weiss
approaches, tabloid in hand. Avery Milton follows at distance.
Weiss catches his breath:

LT. WEISS
The killer went to the press. They
were tipped before we got the evidence --

MILTON
(enthused)
The reporter's home phone was on
your tap list. Can you believe such
luck? They're locating it now.

Jude just nods, walks away.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S NATA OFFICE - DAY

Mazzo's new office is even hipper than last: Casa Vogue wall
to wall. Memphis chair, painted D.C. map, framed photos and
faded pennant are integrated into Neo-Classical decor. One
wall's inexplicably barren.

Jude examines log as phone wiretap plays on cassette deck.
Weiss and Milton, standing, listen to Ria Maled speak bad
audio with young Hispanic later known as Tomas:

TOMAS (O.S.)
Ria, where have you been? I've been
trying to reach you.

RIA (O.S.)
I was at police headquarters all
morning. They were questioning me
about Karin's murder.

TOMAS (O.S.)
Did they know anything?

RIA (O.S.)
No, they were questioning all the
residents of the building.

TOMAS (O.S.)
Not even that you'd slept with her?

RIA (O.S.)
Shut up! Don't you know my phone's
bugged? -- and now that I'm on the
point, I'd like to speak to the cops
that are listening. One cop in
particular. Comrade Officer, you
have the disgusting job of spying on
Third World liberation -- which you
call "terrorism." Give up! You're
doomed to fail --

JUDE
(rising)
Enough! Shut it off!

Milton cuts off tape. Jude looks out window as Karin's VOICE
segues to flashback:

KARIN (V.O.)
(cruel)
You're disgusting. Will you throw
away that undershirt?...

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Nine months before. Karin, nearly naked, belittles Jude as
she applies mascara. He buttons white shirt over undershirt,
pulls on black nylon socks. His shirt's worn from repeated
washings.

KARIN
...Everything you wear is impossible.
Don't worry, I won't tell your mother.
And change that shirt. You look like
a head waiter. And those little black
socks you wear like a priest. Or
like what you really are, a policeman.
Don't you have a suit with style? A
bit brighter? With some life to it?

Mazzo hides behind hard expression:

JUDE
(curt)
No.

KARIN
People cross the street when they
see you coming because they can tell
you're a cop. You police stink of
barracks, jails, courtrooms. Priests
at least smell like incense. They
ought to pass out a deodorant to the
police and teach them to use it.

Karin crosses room as Jude knots cheap black tie. She picks
up scissors, approaches Jude, cuts his tie slowly. Once,
then twice. She kisses his blank face, walks to mirror. Mazzo
waits to speak:

JUDE
I could kill you. With my own two
hands.

KARIN
(combing hair)
Who'd catch you? You'd control the
investigation.

END OF FLASHBACK

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S NATA OFFICE - DAY

Same day as previous office scene. Mazzo, Milton, Weiss and
Alan listen to wiretap conversation. Jude's muffled phone
voice speaks from L'Enfant lobby:

JUDE (O.S.)
...an envelope containing the necklace
of the murdered woman Karin
Schreiber...

Weiss turns to others:

LT. WEISS
Listen. Who does this remind you of?

JUDE
Sam Zegner?

LT. WEISS
Yes, but the other?

JUDE
(shrugs)
Where's the envelope he's talking
about?

MILTON
FBI.

LT. WEISS
Gideon pulled rank. They were all
over us after the story hit.

JUDE
That's it either way. That proves
the husband's innocent.

MILTON
Just like you said. He'll be released.

LT. WEISS
(shakes head)
Gideon won't do it. He says he's in
charge of the case and he's holding
him and that's that.

JUDE
The man is innocent.
(walks away)
Petty bureaucrat.

CUT TO:

EXT. NATA HDQRS - EVENING

Mazzo waves off Alan:

JUDE
...didn't need security before, don't
need it now!
(jocular)
Wouldn't I be a hell of a hostage?

Jude laughs heads for assigned space where Beretta sits washed
and polished. Sam Zegner, lying in wait, intercepts Mazzo.

They inch toward Jude's metallic coupe.

JUDE
Sam, what -- ?

SAM
Did you read my story on the Schreiber
necklace?
(Jude nods)
What should I tell him?

JUDE
Tell who?

SAM
Detective Gideon at the FBI.

JUDE
Tell him about what?

SAM
He wants me to tell him who tipped
me about the envelope. You understand.

JUDE
Why are you asking me?

SAM
You made that phone call.

JUDE
Don't be stupid. How could I call
before the package even arrived?

SAM
But you made the call!

Jude stops beside Beretta, flares back at young reporter:

JUDE
Don't you ever say a thing like that!
That I call you! I never call you!

SAM
(vacillates)
But --

JUDE
(opens door)
I do favors for you, you know. So
you just watch out.

Sam retreats as Director Mazzo sits in coupe, slams door,
starts engine. Zegner's mind reels with rationalizations as
Jude drives down 24th. File this "Forgotten."

CUT TO:

INT. BERETTA - EVENING

Jude sits behind wheel in cold sweat, suddenly frightened.
He regulates his breathing: in-out, in-out, calming down. Is
Jude's cool his cover? Or his turn-on?

Karin's hand flashes before his face as TRAFFIC NOISE
dissolves to flashback.

CUT TO:

EXT. PENNSYLVANIA AVE. - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Six months before. Jude's MOVING POV through Beretta
windshield: Karin's hand pulls away, revealing thoroughfare
running deadend to Rotunda Dome. Pennsylvania Avenue, nation's
#1 drag strip, stretches from White House to Capitol Hill.
Rod Stewart sings over dashboard speakers: "Do You Think I'm
Sexy?"

Mazzo wearing wraparound sunglasses, glances from side mirror
to rearview to windshield. He breaks for red light. Black
TRAFFIC OFFICER in white uniform watches intersection from
far curb.

Karin leans to lightly kiss Jude, whispers teasingly:

KARIN
Go ahead. Go ahead, run it. You can
do it...

JUDE
(overlapping)
I don't need to run a red light...

KARIN
(overlapping)
...I don't ask about your dirty
investigations, you don't ask about
my politics. Everything else is fair.
Go on. Let's see who wins...

JUDE
(overlapping)
...so, you want me to break the law?
Right...?

KARIN
(overlapping)
...Let's see who can dance closest
to the flame. You can do it. Try it.
You can do anything --

JUDE
(blustery)
Alright, I'll do it. I'm doing it!

Karin laughs as Mazzo accelerates through busy intersection.
Suddenly, a GERIATRIC with a walker steps into their path.
Jude prepares to break; Karin, instead, swerves the wheel
wildly, hits horn and curses. The Geriatric freezes,
befuddled. TRAFFIC OFFICER waves them to the curb.

KARIN
Here comes the traffic cop. Just
show him your little card. You're
important to our security. Show him.

JUDE
Sure, sure.

Traffic Officer stops at window, eyes Jude and Karin:

TRAFFIC OFFICER
(brusque)
Driver's license and registration.

JUDE
(displays ID)
U.S. Attorney.
(a beat)
Let's have it back.

TRAFFIC OFFICER
Director Mazzo.
(steps back)
Sorry sir.

Mazzo pockets ID wallet, drives away. He smirks as Traffic
Officer recedes in rearview mirror.

KARIN
You could commit any crime, you know.
You really could.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Six months before. Jude stands against Social Realist painting
of couple in coitus, undressing as Michael Jackson et. al.
sing "We Are the World" on stereo. Mazzo, chic in contoured
suit, looks directly into camera as he unbuttons shirt. His
figure's trim, his hair styled: the Jude transformation is
complete.

Karin, propped up by wrinkled pillows, watches nude as she
mouths words to song: "...we are the children, we are the
ones who make a brighter day..." Twisted sheets variously
reveal/conceal her full body tan.

Mazzo removes his trousers and undershorts, climbs across
bed toward Karin.

Doorbell RINGS as Jude slithers belly to belly.

Karin quickly gets up, pulls on negligee.

JUDE
Don't answer.

Karin takes his hand, tugs him off bed. Jude, frightened,
turns to hide his erection, cups genitals.

KARIN
(urgent)
Hide.

JUDE
(panic)
I can't be seen here.

Karin strongarms Jude toward large louvered closet. He reaches
down to scoop up his trousers en route, fails.

KARIN
In here. Quick. I'm expecting an
express package. I don't want to
miss it. It'll just be a second.

JUDE
Really, Karin...

She opens closet door, presses reluctant Director Mazzo
inside. Jude squats naked between hanging dresses and high
heels. Beside him, a jumble of dirty laundry and discarded
paperbacks.

Karin closes door with shushing gesture. Jude watches through
slats as Karin turns off stereo, goes to front door. Bell
RINGS again.

Schreiber peers across chain latch, smiles as she unlocks,
opens door for Ria, wearing bright patterned shirt and
painter's pants. They embrace as she locks door.

KARIN
Don't say a word.

RIA
What's wrong -- ?

KARIN
That's two. One more and you're gone
for good -- and I'm not a memory men
forget easy. I leave scars.

Karin unsnaps Ria's pants. He opens his mouth to speak, stops,
agape.

KARIN
Don't even groan.

Karin helps Maled unbutton his shirt as they approach bed.
She reaches in his pants holds his stiffening prick.

KARIN
It's like a hot steel pipe.

Ria bends to untie shoes. Karin sets him on bed, stretches
him out, pulls down his pants.

KARIN
Leave the shoes on.

Karin positions herself atop Ria so that she directly faces
Jude's hiding place.

Mazzo watches as Karin fucks without foreplay. Her eyes are
fixed on the closet. She never looks at Ria.

Karin, heaving up, down, side to side, breathes with
increasing theatricality: the Camille of coitus.

IN THE CLOSET, Jude, wedged into a comfortable position,
picks a battered university press paperback from Karin's
dirty laundry, opens it at random, reads in the dim slatted
lights.

Playing to the closet, Karin achieves an orgasm worthy of
Verdi.

Karin unceremoniously unstraddles Ria, rolls him off the
bed, helps him haphazardly dress, ushering him all the while
toward the door.

Maled, hurt, starts to say something. She cuts him short:

KARIN
Don't spoil it, Bernardo.

Karin latches chain behind Ria, leans flat against door, her
heart suddenly pounding. Trembling, she turns toward closet.

Karin proceeds step by step into bedroom. Not a sound from
the closet. Fear heightens her anticipation.

KARIN
Jude?

She opens closet door. Jude sits silently reading. He doesn't
look up.

KARIN
Jude? I'm sorry.

Mazzo's expression is detached, surreal, as if about to burst
into unthinking anger. He looks up from his book:

JUDE
Did you know there's a hole in the
ozone layer?
(a beat)
In fifty years Baltimore will be the
new Key West.

END OF FLASHBACK

CUT TO:

EXT. WASHINGTON HARBOUR - EVENING

Beretta pulls in, brakes.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S LIVING ROOM - EVENING

SUEBEE, Mazzo's cleaning woman, greets him at door:

SUEBEE
(agitated)
They were here today, Director.

JUDE
Who was here?

SUEBEE
He should be ashamed.

JUDE
Who should be ashamed.

SUEBEE
Hideon. Mr. Hideon, from the FBI, he
said. With someone else. He acted
like you were just nobody. That's
the way he talked to me. You should've
heard him. He wanted a blue tie.

Mazzo walks to bedroom; Suebee follows, talking:

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S BEDROOM - EVENING

SUEBEE
He shoulda been ashamed, talking
about you that way. I told him I
would call NATA immediately if he
didn't leave. "How dare you?" I said.
Then they left.

Jude goes through tie rack. He peruses one blue tie after
another: the silk Missoni is missing.

JUDE
Strange, I remember a tie like -- ?

SUEBEE
It was so wrinkled. Honestly, I don't
know what you'd do without me. It's
in that new batch from the cleaners.

JUDE
You didn't tell the police?

SUEBEE
Of course not. Did I do something
wrong? Why should I?

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S BATHROOM - NIGHT

Mazzo extracts sky blue murder tie from dry cleaning sheath,
cuts it up, places pieces in oversize ashtray. He ignites
silk shards with stick matches, drops flaming fragments into
toilet bowl, flushes them away as David Byrne sings
"Wildlife."

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S OFFICE - NIGHT

Jude speaks on telephone:

JUDE
I must know, Attorney General, have
you ordered an investigation of my
personal life on the Schreiber case?
Me? My own life? I must know.

ATTORNEY GENERAL (O.S.)
We can talk about it at dinner next
week.

JUDE
No, no, excuse me, I need to know
more.

ATTORNEY GENERAL (O.S.)
We'll talk about it then.
(hangs up)

CUT TO:

INT. KENSINGTON MD. BLOOMINDALE'S - DAY

Mazzo disguised in jeans, baseball cap and sunglasses,
approaches Missoni boutique. Intense insecure CLERK, male,
mid-fifties, greets Jude at counter:

CLERK
Yes?

JUDE
A friend bought me a blue silk tie
here, and I wondered if you have
another?

CLERK
Azure blue?

JUDE
Pale blue, yes.

CLERK
I think so. Let me check.

Clerk walks off. Jude calls after him:

JUDE
You'll know it if you find it -- a
real murderer's tie!
(laughs)

Mazzo's hollow laugh betrays his anxiety. He notices OLDER
WOMAN staring at him.

JUDE
What are you staring at?

CUT TO:

EXT. NATA ALLEY - DAY

Jude turns corner, walks past alley behind NATA headquarters.
He notices "Gourmet Food" truck parked behind NATA. He pauses
a moment, continues.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Jude, Milton and dozen staffers sit around long table. Alan
concludes his remarks as LEE REISMAN, 32, good-looking, very
hip in very button-down sort of way, tiptoes into room. Mazzo
wears same clothes as morning of murder: Sahara brown suit,
sky blue Missoni tie.

JUDE
(looks to Lee)
Great. Before going on, I'd like to
introduce Lee Reisman, formerly of
the White House press office. He's
going to be working with us the next
couple weeks -- and that took some
doing, by the way. Lee's here to
protect NATA's inalienable rights:
life, liberty and the pursuit of
publicity!

Staffers chuckle as Reisman takes seat against wall. Reisman
whispers memo into micro-cassette recorder.

JUDE
Now, who's writing up the report?

STAFFER
I am, Director.

JUDE
We'll need a 12 to 14 page summary
with a half page cover memo for the
White House. Nothing fancy. Just the
broad strokes. The Chief of Staff
wants the gist. More than a half-
page and he'll pass it down to a
subordinate and later claim he wasn't
fully informed. The gist of it is
that, one, the creation of NATA has
resulted in inter-governmental anti-
terror cooperation beyond all
expectations. Two, suspects in subway
bombing are known and being pursued
by means which cannot be divulged.
Three, most important, terrorist
activities are up in every sector
and demand immediate response in
both manpower and materiel. Be sure
to include some anecdotal material --
but not Arabs. We want to paint a
bigger picture. Tell about the FALN
suspect we caught driving a busload
of school-kids to Monticello with a
pants full of plastique. Tell about
how we laughed when --

BOOM! An EXPLOSIVE NOISE rocks the room. Staffers, stunned,
look around. Jude leads charge out door.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA CORRIDORS - DAY

Mazzo, Milton, Alan, Reisman, others break briskly through
freshly painted halls. Confused employees point toward source
of explosion.

They are joined by NATA POLICEMAN and UNDERCOVER AGENTS. One
agent attempts to precede Mazzo; Jude elbows him back.
Corridor buzzes with speculation. Jude continues forward,
setting pace.

Pungent smell greets them. Smoke seeps through emergency
exit. Jude rams open rear door, setting off ALARM. He's
immediately outside.

CUT TO:

EXT. NATA ALLEY - DAY

Twisted Gourmet Food truck in flames, flat against NATA
dumpster. Windows are shattered up and down alley, a few
trees are burning. Otherwise, there seems little damage.
SIRENS wail in distance.

The truck has absorbed most of the blast. It's nothing but a
flaming shell. Jude's already in action:

JUDE
Tell the D.C. cops to cordon the
area.

UNDERCOVER AGENT
A radio!

Reisman rushes inside as agents sprint opposite directions
down alley. Jude scans bomb scene.

SECURITY POLICEMAN
Everyone stand back! It's still alive!
Get these people back!

Chattering ONLOOKERS edge back, regroup, their ranks swelling.

ONLOOKER #1
Anybody hurt?

ONLOOKER #2
I don't think so.

ONLOOKER #3
An old lady just passed by.

ONLOOKER #4
What happened?

Jude's eyes fix on truck: he sees something. He climbs without
warning into twisted hot metal. Someone SCREAMS. Milton and
others yell: "Get out! Get out!"

Jude ignores their warnings, searches dashboard -- inches
from flaming explosives. NATA agent mounts truck to rescue
Mazzo, burns hand on strip of steel. More SCREAMS. Jude's
coattail catches fire. Other agents, joined by D.C. Police,
prepare to force him out.

Before they can act, Jude retrieves smoldering documents
from glove compartment, works his way free. Jude clutches
papers as he drops to pavement -- his jacket aflame, his
right hand seared. Cops tug off his coat, stomp out flames.
All eyes on Director Mazzo.

Jude dramatically displays charred documents: photos and
floor plans of White House, Jefferson Memorial, Capitol.

Reisman returns with camera just in time to catch picture of
Jude, burnt, smudged by smoke and debris, holding high
frightening evidence. CLICK!

CUT TO:

INT. BLOOMINGDALE'S - DAY

Camera PANS from Washington Post PHOTO of Jude triumphant to
reveal Dect. Gideon questioning Missoni Clerk. Gideon holds
newspaper under arm. Headline reads: "Nata Bomb Bares Terror
Plot."

CLERK
-- "azure." "Azure Blue." I know
just the tie you're talking about.
It's from the Spring Collection.

DECT. GIDEON
How many do you stock?

CLERK
Of the solids? Three or four. Someone
was asking about that same tie just
the other day. He bought the last
one.

DECT. GIDEON
What did he look like?

CLERK
About your height, 45 or 50, I'm bad
with age. He looked like that guy on
TV last night. In the truck bombing.
Wasn't that terrific, what he did?

Gideon places Post on counter, points to Jude's grainy black-
and-white picture.

CLERK
Yeah, that's him.

CUT TO:

INT. TV STUDIO - DAY

Jude is guest on "The Donahue Show." Jude and PHIL DONAHUE
chat as they watch monitor: beach beauties sell diet soda on
screen. Reisman stands behind camera crew.

Show returns live. Mazzo sits straight; Donahue waits his
cue:

DONAHUE
We're back. Our program is on
"Terrorism: Has it come to America?"
and our special guest is NATA Director
Jude Mazzo, the man who's done so
much to help turn the tide in the
battle against international
terrorism.
(to Jude)
I'd like to start by congratulating
Director Mazzo on the recent arrests --

JUDE
-- they were a group effort.

DONAHUE
What about jumping into a burning
truck? You can't say that was a group
effort.

Jude shrugs sheepishly, scans female audience. His eyes fix
on young blond girl -- a girl not unlike Karin.

DONAHUE
You know, Director, I don't know
what it is. It's like a gust of fresh
air from Washington. I feel safer
just sitting here talking to you.

JUDE
I never set out to be a symbol. I
only set out to be sensible.

Donahue holds up issue of Time with Jude on cover.

DONAHUE
This is today's Time magazine. There's
a picture of Director Mazzo and
alongside the words, "The Jude Mood."
What do you think of this "Jude Mood"
that's sweeping Washington?

JUDE
Don't confuse me with the zeitgeist,
Phil. I don't spend my time worrying
about the National Mood. I leave
that to the columnists.

DONAHUE
But don't you aspire to higher office?

JUDE
I've never even thought about that.
I don't have time for personal
ambition. I'm just trying to help my
country. It's my job.

Spontaneous applause.

CUT TO:

INT. GIDEON'S OFFICE - DAY

Gideon watches "Donahue" in large, functional FBI office.
One wall is covered with mug shots of interrogees in Schreiber
investigation. Dusty pix of Reagan and Hoover flank FBI seal.

FBI Interrogator #1 and uneasy Missoni Clerk watch "Donahue"
alongside Gideon. Yellow "FBI Evidence" tag partially blocks
Sony screen. WOMAN IN TV AUDIENCE asks Mazzo:

TV WOMAN
Who are your heroes?

JUDE
Off the top of my head -- my father,
of course, President Reagan, JFK,
Lee Iacocca, Martin Luther King,
Guglio Marconi -- and Walt Disney.

"Donahue" audience chuckles. Gideon lowers his head.

CUT TO:

EXT. FBI BULDING - DAY

Mazzo, Milton and Alan round corner, sprint up concrete steps.

CUT TO:

INT. FBI BUILDING - DAY

Interrogator #1 greets them at door, escorts Mazzo and retinue
through security.

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
Follow me. We were just watching you
on "Donahue," Director. I liked what
you said. Everybody's beaming around
here.

ALAN
Why couldn't Detective Gideon come
to us? The Director's time is very
important.

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
I just follow orders.

JUDE
It's alright, Alan.

They turn corner, stride in pairs down corridor.

MILTON
What's this all about? This "new
evidence"?

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
(to Jude)
It's nothing, Director. A compulsive
liar, if you ask me.

CUT TO:

INT. GIDEON'S OFFICE - DAY

Interrogator opens door for Jude and others, closes it behind
them. Gideon and Clerk stand facing window. Only Gideon turns
to Mazzo. Missoni Clerk, frightened, shuts eyes, waits to be
called.

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
(to Clerk)
This man would like to ask you a few
questions. Please turn around.

JUDE
Who is he?

Mazzo circles to face Clerk; Gideon stands between. Clerk
slowly lifts eyes to Mazzo. Jude greets him with cold damning
stare: the look that kills.

Clerk, turning to jelly, glances at others, looks back at
Torquemada Jude.

JUDE
Well?

Missoni Clerk would be shitting if his sphincter weren't up
his throat. He pleads:

CLERK
Excuse me, sir, there's been a
mistake. I'm sorry. I thought you
were someone else.

JUDE
Really? Who?

CLERK
I... must have been... I confused
you with someone else.

JUDE
(to Gideon)
With who then?

FBI INTERROGATOR #1
He was convinced he knew you. He
said he sold some strange man --

DECT. GIDEON
He said he sold you a silk tie
identical to the one under victim's
fingernail -- just twelve days ago!
He says this man talked about murder
and --

JUDE
Let him talk.

CLERK
Well, it was just like that. He must
have been some lunatic or an actor
rehearsing a role --

JUDE
(to Gideon)
Is that all?

Gideon nods. Mazzo leads Clerk to door.

JUDE
You're free to go. You did the right
thing. Public service is always
rewarded. We have your name.

CLERK
Thank you, sir:

Clerk exits. Jude turns on Gideon, his voice rising:

JUDE
You little shit! What did you think
you were doing?

DECT. GIDEON
He identified your picture! How did
I know -- ?

JUDE
Thank God I didn't hire you. You
couldn't have lasted two days under
me.

Gideon bites tongue, looks away. Jude yells at Milton and
Alan:

JUDE
You two! Don't you have any respect?
Get out!

Milton and Alan immediately leave.

JUDE
You still want that tie? It's a little
charred from the explosion.

Gideon, looking off, shakes head -- almost imperceptibly.
He's had enough humiliation today. Goddamn tie.

Mazzo notices wall of mug shots:

JUDE
Who are these?

DECT. GIDEON
Everyone questioned in the case.

Jude zeros in on black-and-white blow-up of Ria in protest
tableau. His face's circled with red grease pencil. Beside
Ria stands Tomas, 23, Puerto Rican.

JUDE
I recognize him! I saw him in the
crowd outside her apartment! Who are
they?

Jude pulls Ria/Tomas photo from wall, begins to fold it.
Gideon stops him, takes photo from Jude:

DECT. GIDEON
This ain't your investigation,
Director! This ain't your
jurisdiction! This ain't terrorism!

JUDE
It will be! Then watch out!

Mazzo bolts out Gideon's office.

CUT TO:

EXT. 9TH STREET - DAY

Mazzo rushes from FBI Building, crosses street. Across 9th,
Jude rests against improbable row of X-rated peep shows and
shops -- literally in J. Edgar's shadow.

Mazzo breathes heavily, wipes his face. Even Jude can only
suppress terror so long. He quickly pulls himself together,
walks away.

CUT TO:

INT. COSMO CLUB BATHROOM - NIGHT

Jude, wearing tuxedo, washes hands and face in marble and
gilt lavatory. He senses something wrong. Someone is watching
him.

He looks at mirror: nothing. Turns his head, looks behind:
nothing.

Mazzo looks back at mirror, only to be greeted by smiling
Felliniesque face of LAVATORY ATTENDANT. Jude fumbles in his
pants pocket for a tip.

CUT TO:

INT. COSMO CLUB BAR - NIGHT

Exclusive club on Mass. Ave. (women can eat but can't join).
D.C. aristocracy sip watered drinks, wait to be seated. The
room reeks of power. Decisions made here effect the world.

Director Mazzo and Attorney General Gabriel, also tuxedoed,
all smiles, work bar. Jude's at the top of his game. He flirts
with one matron in French, another Russian. Gabriel pulls
him away:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Com'on Director. Forgive us.

JUDE
(looks around)
So these are the smokey backrooms of
political lore? Any tips?

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Don't play favorites. These guys are
all powerbrokers and each has an ego
big enough to fill RFK Stadium. Hell,
why am I giving you tips? If I was
so smart, I'd be the special guest
here, not you.
(whispers)
By the way, the truck bomb was a
stroke of genius. Really.

JUDE
We should act fast. We know all their
names.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Of course.

They enter dining room.

CUT TO:

INT. COSMO CLUB DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Jude sits in impressive company: Attorney General Gabriel,
Assistant A.G., STATE DEPARTMENT UNDER-SECRETARY, PARTY
CHAIRMAN, FINANCE MOGUL, SENIOR BUSINESS LEADER, CONSTRUCTION
TYCOON and ASSISTANT. All wear tuxedoes.

Construction Tycoon pitches Gabriel and Jude:

CONSTRUCTION TYCOON
...That's a 2.5 billion saving right
there. Think of the impact: prison
space for all drug offenders. Our
latest poll gives this program an
84% approval -- higher than Medicare.
Good for law enforcement, good for
the economy, good for votes.

ASST. TO TYCOON
Here's an idea that came up: sentence
all drug offenders to at least one
year, then let minor offenders buy
up to 11 months of freedom at $1000
a day. Let the rich kids pay for the
prisons. Each thou buys 37
incarceration days for the next guy.

Gabriel frowns: this is not ethical. It's not even feasible.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
I have some problems with that.

Tycoon quickly changes subject:

CONSTRUCTION TYCOON
Did you read the Time cover on
Director Mazzo? Really something.

STATE UNDER-SECRETARY
What a puff piece.

ASSISTANT A.G.
It was terrific.

PARTY CHAIRMAN
Just what we needed.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Hard-hitting in a Princess Di sort
of way.

STATE UNDER-SECRETARY
How'd you do it? State's been trying
six months to get some top spin from
Time-Life.

JUDE
(modest)
They're just selling magazines, like
everyone else.

Senior Business Leader sets iced tea down with punctuation
mark. Others turn. He exudes authority:

BUSINESS LEADER
Let me get to the point. I've cleared
this with Justice, State, Chairman
Luddy.
(acknowledges them)
You must know, Judi, that we've
started a campaign fund in your name --
you don't have to comment. It's
something we want to do. Not for
this year, not for next -- it's just
an idea we want to drop in the public
consciousness. See what happens. If
no response, it'll fade away
unnoticed. None of us will be involved
by name.

PARTY CHAIRMAN
We're on the look for leaders.
Especially now. The President will
be hard to replace. I wish we could
just wax him and set him in the Oval
Office.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
We damn near have.

CONSTRUCTION TYCOON
I still have problems with the family
issue. Can a bachelor go all the
way? How about it, Jude? Got anything
in the works? A fiancé? I'm dead.
You try to sell an unattached sexy
mid-forty candidate. A fucking hormone
bomb. I could live with a steady
girlfriend -- "Is she or isn't she?" --
slash/potential fiancé/slash/wife-to-
be.

STATE UNDER-SECRETARY
I know a girl, 26, gorgeous, she'll
fuck your brains out, small talk
with the Prime Minister of Uganda,
go home and beat you at chess.

JUDE
I have a private life and I'm not
ashamed of it. Sex if a low priority
for me. Someday -- soon -- I will
meet the right woman and marry. The
issue has never obstructed me. Don't
under-estimate voters: they know
essence from ephemera --

CONSTRUCTION TYCOON
Hah! Voters are ignorant -- and they
make the rules --

BUSINESS LEADER
The rules change, Cal. They used to
say a Catholic couldn't be President,
they used to say a divorced man
couldn't be President. Here comes
Kennedy, here comes Reagan -- goodbye
rules.

PARTY CHAIRMAN
The new polls show Jude just a point
under the President in personal
approval.

FINANCE MOGUL
"Charisma plus credibility equals
character."

Jude studies each face. This is for real. Powerbroker central.
Business Leader resumes conversation.

BUSINESS LEADER
I don't care what anybody says. The
press can't make leaders. Not real
leaders. Men the public wants to
believe. Men who can make people
believe any screwy thing they say.
Big money and the media can do a
lot, sometimes 90%, but it's always
the 10% that matters. And you can't
buy it. I oughtta know...
(laughs)
...I've tried often enough!

PARTY CHAIRMAN
There are those who think you have
that 10%. You got a New Decade vibe.
You might just be the man for the
Nineties.

Business Leader breaks mood with robust shrug:

BUSINESS LEADER
Who knows? Now let's change the
subject before Judi here can respond.
How's pussy, boys?

A good old boy chuckle.

CUT TO:

EXT. WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT

Jude's Beretta heads west down 15th, circles White House.
Jude grins -- all's right again. Off screen phone RINGS: Big
Bopper answers from car stereo:

"CHANTILLY LACE"
"Hel-lo ba-by,
Yeah, this is the Big Bopper speakin'
(demonic laugh)
O-oh, you sweet thang! Do I what?
Will I what?
O-oh, ba-by, You kno-ow what I like!"

North portico of White House is bathed in white light. 11:00
o'clock news. Network correspondents stand before glowing
backdrop, file their stories. Jude sings along:

"CHANTILLY LACE"
"...make me feel real loose,
Like a long-neck goose,
Like a girl --
O-oh, ba-by, that's what I like!"

CUT TO:

EXT. NATA ALLEY - NIGHT

Unmarked military transport vans stand behind NATA head-
quarters. Sometime after midnight.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA UTILITY ROOM - NIGHT

Top floor of townhouse has been gutted, stripped back to
sandblasted brick rectangle. Plainclothes officers line thirty
DETAINEES, all male, in rows before folding tables. Seated
clerks process detainees over tabletop computers.

The detainees represent terrorist nationalities: Palestinian,
Puerto Rican, Libyan, Iranian, Sikh -- Third World all. Some
are angry and abusive, most are frightened. Detainees reply
as best they can, each in accent, their babel swelling like
a mantra.

All in all, an unsettling tableau -- more secret rite than
penal procedure.

All eyes turn as Jude enters with Milton. Jude reads from
computer printout as he walks down the rows, inspecting
suspects. Alan joins them.

JUDE
All my floppy disk friends. I feel
like I know you all. Like a reunion --
what's the name of that film, the
one with "Heard It Through the
Grapevine"?

ALAN
The Big Chill.

JUDE
Yeah, it's a good thing I'm not
sentimental.

ALAN
We've located 31 of the 55 suspects
you requested.

JUDE
(to detainees)
You all got top grades: "Priority
Surveillance," "Detain," "Deport."
All connected to car bomb conspiracies --
however trivial.

Jude examines each passing Arab face, checks printout, nods
as he turns down next row.

JUDE
(to Alan)
Maybe they went out with the wrong
girl ten years ago, who knows? Most
will be free in a few hours, but not
all. This is the sexiest group of
suspects we've had since Hoover.
Just wait, something will pop up.
Sometimes you have to throw a wide
net.
(looks around)
Ria Maled?

ALAN
No luck.

Mazzo stops before HALUK YORGLU, young Turk in designer
glasses.

JUDE
This is Haluk Yorglu. He and his
brother in Ankara figured a way to
double their drug profits by financing
terrorism. Now he's got three lawyers
and a press agent.
(moves on)

ALAN
We did find Tomas Donoso, the boy in
the photo with Ria. Also on the phone
taps.

JUDE
Where?

ALAN
Two rows over. With the Puerto Ricans.

Alan leads Jude and Milton to TOMAS DONOSO, 22, slight,
unkempt. Tomas' boyish face bristles as they approach.

JUDE
Name?

TOMAS
(contemptuous)
So this is America? The "land of the
free" we sang about in San Juan.
Where's Lady Liberty now, Herr
Director?
(clicks heels)

JUDE
(to Milton)
I'll question him tomorrow-maybe. It
would be advisable to keep him off
food and drink until then. "Nothing
by mouth."

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S NATA OFFICE - DAY

Jude, at desk, studies Ria Maled file: photos, intelligence
reports, wiretap transcripts. Milton enters unannounced.

JUDE
How's our boy? Tomas will lead us to
Ria -- trust me.

MILTON
Good news. We couldn't find Ria
because the FBI already picked him
up. He's at the Bureau now.

JUDE
(angry)
Good news!

MILTON
I thought it was good news. Gideon
is conducting the interrogation
himself.

This only upsets Jude more:

JUDE
Has Ria talked? How much does he
know?

MILTON
No idea.

JUDE
Where did you hear this?

MILTON
Lt. Weiss.

CUT TO:

EXT. DOWNTOWN WASHINGTON - DAY

Jude speaks on pay phone near corner of G Street and 10th, a
marginal district. His voice is urgent:

JUDE
Someone must know what's going on
over there. Why don't you just go
and ask around?

LT. WEISS (O.S.)
I tried. The FBI denies it even has
Maled. Gideon wants Ria all to
himself.

JUDE
How'd you find out?

LT. WEISS (O.S.)
Two officers tried to assist the
arrest -- the Bureau boys told them
to keep quiet. Why don't you just
get some agents, go over and grab
him? Flex your jurisdiction.

JUDE
That's just it. I don't have
jurisdiction. Not til I tie him to
terror. Gideon's gonna screw
everything up. I want Ria!

LT. WEISS (O.S.)
Let it go, Director. Let Gideon get
his glory. It's just a homicide.

JUDE
Yeah, thanks.

Mazzo hangs up, walks down G Street. For the first time we
see him not affecting a pose. "Jude walk" is now introspective
slouch. Jude's been weaving a contradictory self-destructive
web, and the strain shows.

Jude, lost in thought, passes prone wino. Ahead, scraggly
STREET MUSICIAN, 40ish, wheezes Vivaldi on old flute. Dollar
bill and several coins lie in open case at his feet: a scene
straight from Haight-Ashbury era. Street Musician looks toward
Mazzo expectantly, catches his eye.

Jude returns Musician's stare, slows, stops -- suddenly stoops
to steal lone bill from flute case! Stunned flutist stops
playing:

STREET MUSICIAN
Wha -- ?

Jude explodes with distain:

JUDE
You're so fucking bad you're lucky
you only owe me a dollar!
(points to wino)
People are trying to sleep here!

STREET MUSICIAN
(backing away)
Really, mister, I don't think --

Jude bounces on balls of his feet:

JUDE
What are you going to do about it,
huh? Call the cops? You're lucky I
don't take your goddamn flute too!
What kind of man plays the flute
anyway?

Mazzo abruptly turns, leaving as quickly and calmly as he
came. Just a synapse burn-off. He's better now.

Flutist watches dumbfounded. He doesn't know what hit him.
But we do.

* Jude stops, stares into space. SOUND of breathing.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Six months before. Same as scene 72. Ria and Karin fuck.
Mazzo peeks through closet louvers.

END OF FLASHBACK

CUT TO:

EXT. DOWNTOWN STREET - DAY

Continued from scene 89. Mazzo looks around, walks away. OFF
SCREEN phone RINGS.

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

Three months before. Karin lies in bed as phone RINGS. She
picks up receiver, listens, sits up:

KARIN
Yes, I'm alone.
(beat)
Yes, alone. I told you I am.
(beat)
What is this? A jealous tantrum on
the phone?
(beat)
If I were you then, make your men
tap my telephone. Or they can follow
me. Or plant a camera between the
sheets and that sort of thing. There
are a hundred men at your disposal,
right? Assign them over here. Then
you'll always know who I'm with and
just what I'm doing.
(hangs up)

CUT TO:

INT. KARIN'S BEDROOM - DAY -FLASHBACK-

One month before. Jude enters apartment just as he did morning
of murder. He unfolds letter as he walks into bedroom where
Karin lies in negligee.

JUDE
Your letter says, "It's over. Let's
break off our relationship now."
(laughs)
Karin, you can take this dumb romantic
letter of yours and stick it right
there!

Mazzo crumples letter, crams it between her legs.

KARIN
Get out!

She jumps from bed, crosses room. He follows:

JUDE
Why you afraid to stay around? Listen,
I didn't come here to play the jealous
boyfriend, Karin. If it's up to me,
you can do whatever you like. If you
want to sleep with someone else, to
me it's unimportant...

Jude sits before her. His voice grows plaintive. He pleads
with his fingertips:

JUDE
...But I've got to know about it!
You must tell everything. Everything
you do. Because we're accomplices.
(desperate)
Karin, you just can't put me in this
sort of situation. You know I'm going
to be promoted. I represent the Law!
I represent power, Karin.
(angry)
The first thing you'd better do is
get down on your knees and kiss the
ground I walk because you're a slut!
I want to know who this Ria is, you
whore! Answer!

KARIN
(defiant)
He's a friend who lives in the
building. What else do you want to
know? He's a young man, better looking
than you and a revolutionary, so?

Karin walks away. Jude scrambles over bed after her.

JUDE
A revolutionary! I'll kill you! Listen
to me --

She slaps him to his knees:

KARIN
Keep your hands off me, you moron!
You are not at the station, you are
at my house! Get out of here!
(hits him)

JUDE
What are you doing?

KARIN
I'm not one of those helpless worms
you step on everyday. Understand?

JUDE
Karin...

Jude falls to floor, deflecting Karin's swinging arms.

KARIN
You make love like a baby. Because
that's what you are -- a stupid baby!

JUDE
(cringing)
Don't yell like that.

KARIN
You also wet your bed, you baby!
You're nobody, nobody at all. As a
man you are incompetent! You're
sexually worse than an incompetent!

Karin wildly hits him. Jude covers his face with his hands.

JUDE
Take your hands off me! Karin, get
your hands off me...!

KARIN
You're terrible! You're nothing,
you're nothing, you're a baby,
understand?

JUDE
(overlapping)
...Get your hands off me and keep
them off me, Karin...

END OF FLASHBACK

CUT TO:

EXT. VIRGINIA COUNTRYSIDE - DAY

Jude drives through foggy Arlington woods. He can barely see
lights of passing cars. He seems anxious, preoccupied.

Mazzo pulls Beretta off road, cuts headlights. He walks into
woods, looking for discrete spot to take a piss. Engulfed by
fog, he walks further than intended.

He stops, unzips, relieves himself. He looks up: towering
trees thick with mist. He realizes he's lost, turns head
wildly from right to left.

Panicky, Jude runs tree to tree. His heart's a jackhammer.
Where am I?

Mazzo bursts through a grove, spots Beretta -- yellow hazard
lights blinking -- parked placidly on state road shoulder.

Relieved, he returns to car.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA UTILITY ROOM - DAY

Brutal brick and sheetrock space now stripped clean. Overhead
flourescent lighting eliminates shadows. Two objects remain:
straight-back wood chair, beat-up lamp table. Water pitcher,
drinking glass sit on table; Tomas Donoso sits on chair. He
hangs his head. This room could be anywhere.

Jude, freshly shaved and showered, slowly paces length of
brick wall. Tomas wears same jeans and T-shirt as night
before. His lips are exsiccated, his saliva no longer flows.
Tomas looks up.

Jude plays the sphinx. His expression gives no clue to his
thoughts or intentions. Mazzo walks with measured steps to
far wall, turns to face Tomas -- twenty feet distant. Jude,
hands in pockets, leans against unfinished sheetrock, assumes
stance.

Dead silence. Each watching the other. Pause. Faint rhythm
of breathing. Inhale/exhale.

Jude breaks the tension: he opens his mouth as if to speak,
imitates sound of ringing telephone: "Ri-ng." "Ri-ng." Jude
hesitates, then picks up imaginary receiver in slow-motion
pantomime, lifts it to his ear, listens.

Jude looks at Tomas, grins:

JUDE
Hel-lo, ba-by, Yeah, this is the Big
Bopper speakin'
(demonic laugh)
O-oh, you sweet thang! Do I what?
Will I what? O-oh, ba-by, You kno-ow
what I like!

Jude is suddenly all movement. He charges toward Tomas,
intoning ala Oral Roberts:

JUDE
"Something good is going to happen
to you today!"

Mazzo steps to table, pours glass of water, offers it to
Tomas:

JUDE
Here.

Tomas clutches glass. He swallows long and hard -- his face
distorting as he spits out the water!

TOMAS
Salt water!

JUDE
Damn right. Sorry, you gotta drink
it. It's a rule here. Or else you go
on your knees.

TOMAS
Huh?

Jude yanks chair under Donoso. He butt-flops to floor. Mazzo
kicks chair away, presses Tomas' head forward:

JUDE
Up! Up! Head down, back straight!
That's right. Feet off the floor!
All your weight must rest on your
knees!
(positions Tomas)
Like that. Right. That's perfect.
Balance -- don't move!

Jude positions Tomas' head down and forward, feet lifted --
a contortion designed to balance Tomas' entire weight on his
knees, each kneecap flat against concrete.

JUDE
You'll remain like that until you
drink the water. Then you can stand.
It's not so bad. You'll get used to
it. Everything's taken care of. You'll
be home, comfortable, fed, asleep in
an hour. There'll be no charges. We
know the facts. You need to repeat
them for the record. Tell us about
Ria Maled.

Tomas bites his mute lips.

JUDE
I'm like your confessor. You can say
anything you want in this room. Here
everybody talks. Nothing will happen
to you. I'm as silent as the grave.
This whole building is one big grave.

Tomas stares ahead, struggles to maintain balance. Sweat
drips from his unshaven chin. He wobbles, tips forward to
floor on all fours. His lungs heave for air.

Mazzo abruptly knees Tomas, yanks him up, holds him steady
with clenched fist. Tomas grimaces. Jude leans his face
against his, yells point blank:

JUDE
Don't stand on all fours! You're a
human being, boy, not an animal.
You're a citizen of a great democracy.
This isn't the Gestapo or the KGB.
We want to help you. Do you want to
stay on your knees -- or would you
like more salt water? I don't know.
You decide. But if you decide to get
up, you'll have to drink the whole
thing.

Donoso pulls himself to his feet. Jude presses salty pitcher
against Tomas' parched lips:

JUDE
I see you decided to drink it.
(lifts pitcher)
The whole thing.

Tomas gulps as Jude pours water down his throat. Tomas gags,
spews salt water.

JUDE
You can't, huh? Alright then, back
on your knees.

Mazzo pressures Tomas to floor, carries pitcher to table.
Donoso resumes kneecap position.

JUDE
(walking)
You would have been better off not
drinking any. In ten minutes you
could be out of here. You could be
drinking a nice big drink of fresh
cold water. Huh? Yes, clear nice
good fresh water. Just tell me what
you know.

Tomas doesn't respond. Stone-face. Mazzo speaks nonstop,
pacing ever-constricting circles. Jude, master chameleon,
shifts from persona to persona: one moment inquisitor, next
moment legal brahmin, concerned observer, soulmate, tormentor,
philosophe:

JUDE
I imagine you would call this torture,
this tête-à-tête of ours, and,
technically, I suppose it is -- in a
trivial, simplistic sort of way. But
it ain't real torture. No sir. I'll
tell you what torture is. The worst
torture is a life stripped of even
the most ordinary limitations. Finding
out one day that the rules don't
apply to you. Somebody took down the
fences.
(Tomas wobbles)
Straight, please!
(continues)
It ain't so easy making rules. Try
it sometime. It sounds easy -- the
easy part is obeying. I wanted to
enforce the law, not dream it. What
happened to me? "The great act of
faith is when man decides he is not
God" -- Oliver Wendell Holmes. Moses
had the cushy job -- the one I wanted.
Just bring down the commandments,
bust sinners, kick some ass. Let God
handle the tricky stuff --

Tomas is barely conscious. Concrete burns his kneecaps like
hot iron. He falls woozily starboard. Mazzo brusquely corrects
Tomas' posture:

JUDE
Back straight, son! That's it! You
got it! Just tell me about Ria, you
can sit in that chair. Say anything.
about him, anything at all and you
can sit, drink fresh water. I want
to help you.

TOMAS
(voice breaking)
Please.

JUDE
You know Ria Maled?

TOMAS
Yes.

JUDE
You knew Karin Schreiber?

TOMAS
Yes.

JUDE
Did you conspire with Ria and Karin
to provide logistical information to
avowed terrorist organizations?

TOMAS
But nothing happened.

JUDE
Did you provide information?

TOMAS
Yes.

JUDE
Did you conspire to provide
information?

TOMAS
Yes.

JUDE
Are you sorry for what you've done?

TOMAS
(clutching Jude's leg)
Yes.

JUDE
What was the relationship of Ria
Maled and Karin Schreiber?

TOMAS
They were friends.

JUDE
Did they have relations?

TOMAS
I don't know.

JUDE
Just what was their relationship?

Tomas' face is livid -- devoid of color.

TOMAS
He was in love with her.

CUT TO:

INT. TOP FLOOR CORRIDOR - DAY

Jude steps into hallway, closes metal door as he greets
Milton, Lt. Weiss and NATA POLICEMAN. He instructs Policeman:

JUDE
Give him some water, food, anything
he wants. Clean him up.

NATA POLICEMAN
Yes, Director.

JUDE
Then release him. Drive him home.
(to Weiss & Milton)
Our boy implicated Ria. Get a writ
and get Ria over here.

CUT TO:

INT. NATA UTILITY ROOM - DAY

Mazzo waits alone for Ria. He picks up lone chair, places it
one spot, then another. Changing his mind, Jude sets chair
against far sheetrock wall. Wood chair legs scrape against
concrete floor.

Jude sits. He crosses his legs, leans back as smug and suave
as Cary Grant.

Iron door opens. NATA Policemen escort hostile Ria Maled
inside. Ria's shirt is sweat-stained from FBI interrogation.
His hair disheveled.

JUDE
(to police)
Leave me alone with him. You two get
some coffee.

Ria watches as guards exit, lock door behind them. Jude calls
from across room:

JUDE
I hear you put on quite a show for
the FBI. A real Rambo. Didn't tell
them a thing.

Ria doesn't answer. Jude stands, slowly paces:

JUDE
Well, this isn't the FBI, Ria. This
is just you and me. No one can see
us, no one can hear us. Look around,
this is the whole world -- and I'm
just the only other person in it.
Just us, like the Garden of Eden. I
just took a vote: you get to be Eve.

Now behind Ria, Mazzo turns, says sharply:

JUDE
You know, your "comrade" just informed
on you! You know your next ten years
are in jail, Ria! That's the minimum,
and I'll see to it you get more than
that!

Maled, head erect, stalks the mighty Mazzo:

RIA
(arrogant)
Ria Maled. Born Torino, Settembre
1969. Chemistry major, Sorbonne. Not
affiliated with any party.
Revolutionary. Foot soldier in
international struggle to liberate
all oppressed --

JUDE
(interrupts)
Don't yell. Don't yell.
(beat)
And do you know who I am?

RIA
You were her lover. The gentleman
who used to call on Mrs. Schreiber,
the woman who was killed.

JUDE
By who and when?

RIA
In my opinion the murderer was you.
You murdered her the morning of May
7. Just before we met each other at
the door, remember?

JUDE
Since you're absolutely sure I did
it, you ought to turn me in.

RIA
You'd like that, wouldn't you?

JUDE
(slaps Ria)
Go on, tell them!

Ria winces with the blow, barks back:

RIA
We'd like you to remain right where
you are! A real murderer in charge
of the latest purges --

Jude grabs Ria with both hands, thrashes him about, slams
him against brick wall. Jude starts to panic, his face phobic.
They yell, overlapping:

JUDE
(desperate)
Report me! Turn me in! You must do
it! I broke the law and I must pay!
You must do what I say! I must pay!
You must turn me in!

RIA
(derisive)
Murderer! Murderer! It's perfect! A
sex killer in the White House!
Perfect! Absolutely perfect! Go on,
do your job!

Maled stumbles free, starts toward door, looks back:

RIA
Why don't you turn me in?

JUDE
(unraveled)
Because I'm a decent man! Help me!

Ria pounds on metal door:

RIA
Open up!
(to Jude)
And the next time we plan anything,
I'll give you a call, Director,
because we got you in our pocket and
you go to Hell!
(pounds door)
Open up! Let me outta here!

Jude rambles in vain from far wall. Ria, pounding door,
doesn't hear.

JUDE
(plaintive)
Wait, come back here. Let's talk
this over. We've got a lot to talk
about. You're behaving like a child.
Let's talk this over man to man.

RIA
Let me out!

JUDE
Stop --

NATA Policemen open door, restrain Ria. Puzzled Milton edges
past, looks to Jude for explanation. Director Mazzo composes
himself.

JUDE
No, no, it's nothing, Milt. He can
get out. He can get out. It's alright.

Milton nods, follows Maled and officers down corridor. Jude,
alone, wanders toward table, collecting his thoughts:

JUDE
(muttering)
He wouldn't turn me in, he's just a
student, a nobody...

Jude pulls Monte Blanc pen from vest pocket, uncaps it. He
opens table drawer, takes out blank sheet of paper. He places
paper on table, prepares to write.

JUDE
"we've got you in our pocket,
understand...?"

He starts to write.

EXT. JUSTICE DEPT. - DAY

Gideon confronts Jude at entrance.

JUDE
The missing link.

DECT. GIDEON
I know everything.

JUDE
Congratulations.

DECT. GIDEON
I've been thinking about you day and
night and I've decided to kill you.
It's the only way to stop you.

JUDE
I'm impressed.

DECT. GIDEON
Some people say Huey Long was
murdered. You and I know the truth:
America was rescued.

JUDE
Let me get this straight: you kill
me so you can go down in history as
a wacko assassin while I, with
schoolbook hyperbole, am canonized
the American martyr? This you're
willing to accept because secretly
you and only you know you've saved
America from Jude Mazzo?

DECT. GIDEON
Yes.

JUDE
And what happens when they open my
blood-soaked suit coat and retrieve
this envelope --
(taps vest pocket)
-- a full confession of my crimes up
to and including the murder? How
will you look then?

DECT. GIDEON
You lie.

JUDE
People like you always underestimate
people like me. Go ahead. Take a
chance. Go for it.

Gideon hesitates. Jude turns and walks away.

CUT TO:

INT. JUSTICE DEPT. - DAY

Deco murals line echoing corridor. A distant silhouette,
heels clicking like metronome. The Jude walk. He carries
folded hand-written letter.

Jude enters "Office of the Attorney General" without knocking.
Representations of "Blind Justice" and "Scales of Justice"
are painted above stone lintel.

CUT TO:

INT. ATTORNEY GENERAL'S OFFICE - DAY

The Assistant A.G., caught by surprise, bolts from boss's
chair.

ASSISTANT A.G.
Wha -- ?
(nervous)
Director Mazzo?

JUDE
Where's Attorney General Gabriel?

ASSISTANT A.G.
(walks around desk)
At the White House. I was just --

JUDE
(imperious)
You'll never understand the magnitude
of my action or my sacrifice. I walk
in here to reaffirm my trust in the
purity of authority and the impartial
glory of the Law --
(withdraws letter)
-- and who do I get to look at? A
lacky little bureaucrat!

ASSISTANT A.G.
What have I done?

Jude hands Assistant A.G. folded letter:

JUDE
I hand you the solution to the killing
of Karin Schreiber. From this moment
on I am at the disposal of the wheels
of Justice. The FBI will want to
interrogate me so I will be at my
apartment.

Assistant Attorney General opens letter as Jude leaves.

CUT TO:

EXT. WASHINGTON HARBOUR - EVENING

Jude parks Beretta coupe, enters building. The sun, red from
refracted smog, hovers over skyline.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Light falls through doorway. Jude lies coffin-like atop
bedspread. He stares at ceiling, hands clasped beneath his
head. His jacket hangs neatly over chair. Jude's tie glows
against white shirt -- a sky blue gash from neck to navel.

Rolling Stones blare from living room stereo: "It's only
rock and roll, but I like it, I like it."

Jude looks toward door: what's taking them so long?

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Jude lifts horizontal blind, looks out window. Rolling Stones
sing unaffected by timecut: "It's only rock and roll."

He sees: Detective Gideon, on stakeout, staring back at Jude.
Gideon stands beside unmarked car, brightly lit by floodlamp.
Gideon makes no attempt to hide. He's just watching. Jude
turns away anxiously. What's taking them so long?

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S OFFICE - NIGHT

Jude roams office. Rolling Stones continue uninterrupted:
"But I like it."

He drifts past gallery of framed photos and souvenirs. Mazzo's
eyes pan eclectic memories: Yale Law School diploma, faded
snapshot of proud mother with smiling son, hand-written note
from the President. What's taking them so long?

Jude glances out window: Gideon stands watch. He removes
legal textbook, Capital Offenses, from shelf, opens it on
desk. He flips to chapter heading, "Origins of Insanity
Defense," says something to himself, walks away.

Mazzo looks out window again. This time he sees line of
headlights snaking through Washington Harbour complex. Gideon
turns to greet approaching cars.

CUT TO:

EXT. WASHINGTON HARBOUR - NIGHT

Three navy blue sedans park near side entrance. Very low
profile: no motorcycles, no bumper flags. Each car carries
four men.

Twelve car doors swing open simultaneously. Dark-suited
officials squeeze out, stretch their legs, wordlessly assemble
behind second vehicle. They include: Attorney General Gabriel,
Assistant Attorney General, State Dept. Under Secretary,
Party Chairman, Milton, Reisman, Lt. Weiss and FBI officers.

Gideon confers with Gabriel. They speak confidentially,
nodding in turns.

The chauffeurs, plainclothesmen; assume prearranged positions,
scan for suspicious activities. Not a soul in sight.

Attorney General leads the way inside. Others follow according
to rank. Reisman's last.

CUT TO:

INT. 1ST FLOOR HALL - NIGHT

Entourage proceeds double-file, oblivious to trompe l'oeil
decor. They wait for elevator, compact inside.

CUT TO:

INT. ELEVATOR - NIGHT

Officials, squeezed tall and tight-assed, stare at digital
LED. Elevator lifts from "1" to "2." They file out.

CUT TO:

INT. 2ND FLOOR HALL - NIGHT

Twisting down Etruscan corridor, they approach Jude's
apartment. Rolling Stones echo inside. Gabriel double-checks
entourage, presses door bell.

CUT TO:

INT. JUDE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Jude, face freshly washed, pulls on jacket, crosses room. He
turns off stereo ("...but I -- CLICK"), opens door.

Each official silently nods as he enters. Milton attempts
feeble greeting. Reisman shuts door. Plainclothesmen remain
outside.

Mazzo stands against stark wall as his visitors, nine strong,
form semi-circle around him. Attorney General Gabriel
confronts Jude face to face, sadly shakes his head.

Jude's eyes well up. He lowers his head, unable to face his
mentor. He can hardly speak:

JUDE
I've disgraced you. I'm sorry, sir.
There is no excuse.

Gabriel gently taps Jude's cheek, turns away. Gideon assumes
interrogator's stance directly behind Mazzo. He speaks over
Jude's shoulder, for all to hear:

DECT. GIDEON
Where were you ten o'clock the morning
of May 7th? The day of Karin
Schreiber's murder?

JUDE
(regains composure)
I can tell you exactly. I can tell
you the whole story. Because I was
there. I killed her.

A.G. Gabriel, nonplussed, weaves through group:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
You must prove that now. Do you think
you can?

JUDE
Unfortunately there was a witness.
The Italian student, Ria Maled, who's
a subversive, was at the entrance.
He saw me leaving.

DECT. GIDEON
We know that and it's not true since
Ria Maled has a valid alibi. He was
in Vermont. I questioned him myself
for hours. And you know how thorough
I am.

Jude's visitor's react in concert. Mazzo's confused:

JUDE
You remember those bloody footprints
all over the victim's apartment? I
didn't leave them to sidetrack the
investigation, however they did come
from my left shoe!

Mazzo yanks off black dress shoe, displays sole. Gabriel
takes shoe, compares it to his own:

ATTORNEY GENERAL
There are literally thousands of
shoes of the same size and make --
this for example.

PARTY CHAIRMAN
I own an identical pair.

ASSISTANT A.G.
So do I.

JUDE
But in the apartment there were my
fingerprints. Doesn't that prove it
to you? Even on the faucets in the
shower. Because I killed her and
then... and then I used the bathroom.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Strange, according to the report we
studied everything thoroughly. We
find other fingerprints, but yours --
not a one.

Increasingly upset, Mazzo squirms as they obfuscate his every
word. Jude thrusts his tie toward Gideon like an accusing
finger:

JUDE
That blue thread you took out of her
fingernail? It came from a tie just
like this.

DECT. GIDEON
Then show us the tie with the missing
thread.

Gideon has done an ideological 180°.

JUDE
I destroyed it.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Why? Tell me.

JUDE
Because my emotions were mixed.
Whether to confess my crime and be
put in jail or to use the power I
had to smooth it over. I admit, I
wanted to know if I really had that
power. I got carried away.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
You were hallucinating your own
indecision. You have a neurosis.

Jude grows more manic with each rebuttal:

JUDE
Yes, but probably this disease was
contracted during this long permanent
unbroken exercise of power. You might
call it a professional illness or an
example of an occupational disease
that punishes those who control our
helpless little society.

PARTY CHAIRMAN
That's impossible.

LT. WEISS
We're all healthy here so cut the
psychological crap. We must have
absolute actual proof you're guilty,
you know that. Not just words, facts.
Evidence!

JUDE
But what about the man I bought the
second tie from? At the store?

DECT. GIDEON
That's false. He doesn't know you.

JUDE
But I can tell you this between us,
he denied it because he was scared.
When he learned who I was!

ATTORNEY GENERAL
I will not permit you to insult all
our findings. You are insulting me,
your colleagues and the law
enforcement establishment.

DECT. GIDEON
Let's be more concrete. Your motive?
What motive did you have?

Mazzo paces wildly:

JUDE
She made fun of me! She made fun of
me! And the whole department! The
whole department! And of the
establishment! All of us! The Law
itself!

ATTORNEY GENERAL
That's hearsay and not evidence. You
cannot prove that so it never
happened!

Jude takes Gabriel momentarily aside:

JUDE
(whispers)
Everyday she tortured me more. She
treated me like an infant.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
(to others)
Nonsense! Science fiction!

JUDE
I murdered her out of jealousy!

MILTON
You never knew her!

OTHERS
Evidence! We need evidence!

LT. WEISS
You can't prove it.

Jude flails, spinning one way then another:

JUDE
Gentlemen! Alright! Just a moment.
You want proof? I'll bring you the
proof now. In just one moment. You'll
see I'm guilty.

They settle. Jude pats coiffure into place, walks quickly
into his office. Officials band together sotto voce. From
Jude's office: SOUND of drawer unlocked, opened, shut.

Mazzo reappears brandishing 8x10 black-and-white photos,
strides back speaking. His energy level's off the meter:

JUDE
Gentlemen, Attorney General, look at
these photos -- dirty pictures! --
the murder victim spread out in
various erotic poses perversely
imitating the cheapest crime magazines --
(distributes photos)
-- all taken by me in her apartment,
making use of my passion for amateur
photography -- which you know! Look,
you can even see me in the mirror in
this one! I want you to examine them.

Attorney General Gabriel accepts Jude's first extended photo;
then, slowly, dramatically, rips the 8x10 apart, dropping
torn pieces to floor. He doesn't even look at photo. It's
irrelevant.

JUDE
Examine them!

Gabriel's subordinates follow suit, shred "crime scene"
glossies: SLOW MOTION fragments of Karin Schreiber, posed,
nude, flutter down like dying butterflies. Jude spins, caught
in surreal shower of photo-erotic memories.

Mazzo struggles to stop them:

JUDE
Please! No! You can't ignore the
facts!

Weiss and Gideon wrestle Jude to floor, subdue him amid torn
porn. Jude's protests blur incoherently.

ANONYMOUS VOICE
It's a disgrace.

ANONYMOUS VOICE
It makes your flesh crawl.

ANONYMOUS VOICE
I always said he was never a team
player.

Attorney General steps over Jude, peers down. Mazzo
submissively looks up to Gabriel:

JUDE
What do you want? What? I'll do
whatever you say.

OTHERS
Ah! Good! Finally!

PARTY CHAIRMAN
Bravo, bravo!

JUDE
What do you want?

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Get on your knees, Jude. You must do
something for your country.
(a beat)
You must confess your innocence.

STATE UNDER-SECRETARY
It's best for everyone.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
On your knees, Jude.

JUDE
But the public? When they find out?

ASSISTANT A.G.
Nothing to find out.

PARTY CHAIRMAN
They want to believe you.

ASSISTANT A.G.
A delusion.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
On your knees!

Gideon helps Jude to his feet.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Say it!

Jude lifts eyes to Gabriel:

JUDE
I confess my innocence.

CHEER goes up. Reisman appears with bottle of champagne,
pops cork! Communal laughs as drinks are poured.

Attorney General and Party Chairman heartily clasp,
congratulate Mazzo. Jude accepts anonymous glass of champagne.
He drinks with foamy smile.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
It's all over, Jude.
(laughs)
Just like a movie.

DECT. GIDEON
The rules have changed.

PARTY CHAIRMAN
You've got a great future.

ATTORNEY GENERAL
Just smile.

OFF SCREEN phone RINGS as we FREEZE on Jude's SMILE. The Big
Bopper answers:

"CHANTILLY LACE"
"Hel-lo, ba-by,
Yeah, this is the Big Bopper speakin'
(demonic laugh)
O-oh, you sweet thang! Do I what?
Will I what?
O-oh, ba-by, You kno-ow what I like!"

THE END

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