"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