Making History

MOVIE HISTORY

The Sting

EXT. DICKINSON HALL, PRINCETON

FADE IN: CAMPUS—

AFTERNOON

We TILT up from ground level and take in the exterior of Dickinson Hall, moving in to a window on the first floor.

CUT TO:

INT. STEVE’S ROOM, DICKINSON HALL — AFTERNOON

STEVE is holding a small laminated card and gives careful instructions to MICHAEL, who is listening attentively.

STEVE: So that’s the library card. You remember how we took out books last time? It’s the same deal. This here’s your student number. Memorise it, okay? Every student knows their number, might look kinda suspicious if you had to keep referring to the card.

MICHAEL nods. STEVE hands him a shopping bag.

STEVE (CONT’D): And you’re sure about how the carts work? Just like I showed you. It’s real simple.

MICHAEL: Just like you showed me.

STEVE: And here’ s the campus map. You know most of the landmarks now. This room. Your room in Henry. Okay…

(getting serious) I know this might sound crazy, but from now on whenever we meet, we don’t talk about this, except in PJ’s or the A & B. Those guys we met last night…’

MICHAEL (shocked): You think they might put bugs in our rooms?

STEVE (even more shocked): Hey, this may not be like the ideal nation state but we’re not Nazi Europe. We don’t do chemical warfare here.

MICHAEL: No, not those kind of bugs! Listening bugs! You know, wire taps.

STEVE: Oh, right. Yeah. I’m saying it’s a possibility, that’s all.

MICHAEL: Big Brother is alive and well.

STEVE: Say what?

MICHAEL: Big Brother. As in ‘Big Brother is watching you’. It’s from a novel by George Orwell that’s never been written.

STEVE: The George Orwell?

STEVE has gone to his desk and started to gather up papers and a camera.

MICHAEL: You heard of him?

STEVE: You kidding? Every kid in America has to plow through Darkness Falls.

MICHAEL: Darkness Falls? When did he write that?

STEVE: (packing the camera into a blue nylon bag) Oh, late thirties, I guess. It’s like the masterpiece of the free world. Orwell was shot in the ‘39 British Rebellion. I got a copy somewhere, you can borrow it.

MICHAEL: Thanks. And I can tell you about 1984 and Animal Farm. They’ll blow your mind.

STEVE (pleased with the phrase): Blow my mind? That’ s a helluvan expression.

STEVE feeds a length of cable up from the nylon bag, through his shirt and down his sleeve. It ends in a small device which nestles in his left hand. We see on this device tiny control switches and a row of little red lights.

MICHAEL watches this procedure in surprise, completely unable to understand it. STEVE nods towards the bag.

STEVE: Take a look at that bag.

MICHAEL stoops down.

ANOTHER ANGLE: From the POV of the camera inside the bag we see MICHAEL’S face loom towards us in CLOSE-UP, peering curiously.

BACK onto STEVE’S hand, deftly manipulating the control device: the red light glows.

BACK onto the CLOSE-UP of MICHAEL’S enquiring face, which now ZOOMS WIDER into a MID-SHOT. The contrast alters and then: Suddenly, it FREEZES.

BACK onto STEVE who grins in triumph.

STEVE: There’s another one for my Michael Young collection.

MICHAEL is impressed with the set-up.

MICHAEL: You sneaky bastard…

STEVE: Yeah, well that’s one of the advantages of being a sad, lonely fairy, I guess. You get to learn how to be a spy.

He winks cheerfully as he picks up the bag and holds open the door for MICHAEL to leave first.

We hold on STEVE’S still smiling face as MICHAEL passes by. STEVE’s eyes follow MICHAEL out of the room and then the smile disappears.

It is replaced by a look of hunger and desolation.

FADE TO:

EXT. FIRESTONE LIBRARY, PRINCETON -AFTERNOON

MUSIC

An establishing shot of the Firestone Library, craning down from the huge tower.

CUT TO:

INT. FIRESTONE LIBRARY, PRINCETON -AFTERNOON

Inside the library, MICHAEL is hauling a pile of books along a corridor. He comes to a door which says:—

FLASHING ROOM

MICHAEL enters. One other person is there, an ELDERLY ACADEMIC, hunched over a machine, one of a dozen such devices in the room.

MICHAEL (winningly): Hi!

The ACADEMIC scowls over his shoulder and then turns back to his work.

MICHAEL shrugs and goes over to the machine furthest from the grouchy ACADEMIC.

CUT TO:

EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING, PRINCETON — SAME TIME

MUSIC continues.

STEVE is sitting, leaning against a great chestnut tree, blue nylon bag on the ground beside him.

On STEVE’S lap is a sketch pad onto which we MOVE.

A fairly decent drawing of the bronze statue of ‘Science Triumphant’ which stands in front of the Quantum Mechanics building.

STEVE gives the impression of drawing: looking up and down between the statue and the pad on his lap.

Series of SHOTS of:—

STEVE’S FACE, as he apparently looks in the direction of the statue…

STEVE’S POV: ACADEMICS and STUDENTS entering and leaving the building…

STEVE’S LEFT THUMB: manipulating the little control device…

THE BLUE NYLON BAG, and the small hole in its side, through which we can just make out the reflective surface of a lens.

CUT TO:

INT. FIRESTONE LIBRARY, FLASHING ROOM -SAME TIME

MUSIC continues: MICHAEL stands in front of the flashing machine and looks at it, finding it slightly forbidding. It is like a scanner, but the styling and design of the switching gear are very alien to him.

He opens the first book of his pile. We see its title. Gloder: The Early Days by Charles B Flood. A bright orange sticker on the top right of the jacket reads, ‘FLASHABLE TEXT’.

MICHAEL opens the book and flips through it to about the middle of the book, speed-reading blocks of text. He turns the book over and examines the spine, he looks down it from the top and feels with his thumb. He is puzzled that he can’t feel anything.

Next, he places the book, SPINE DOWNWARDS, into a little channel on the machine, where it is firmly gripped. There is a gentle beep from the machine as the book fits into its slot.

A display on the front panel asks him to: ‘Enter Student Number’. MICHAEL does so.

The display requests: ‘Welcome, Michael D Young’. MICHAEL smiles.

The display changes to: ‘# of pages? 1=ALL 2=RANGE’.

MICHAEL taps in ‘2’.

The display reads ‘Range?’

MICHAEL taps in ‘1-140’.

The display reads ‘Insert Cart’.

MICHAEL takes a small black cart from his bag and slips it into a port below the main display panel.

There is a small hum from the machine and the display says ‘Flashing, please wait’.

MICHAEL looks at the next books in his pile: amongst them we see Gloder: the Nobleman by A L Parlange, Prince Rudolf? by Mouton and Grover and Gloder’s Kampfparolen: A New Translation with Notes, by A C Spearman. They all have the same bright orange sticker on them saying ‘FLASHABLE TEXT’.

A beep comes from the machine, the cart is ejected. MICHAEL looks at the display which reads: ‘Flashing complete: remove cart’. MICHAEL does so.

The display reads: ‘Flashdata will delete 06/29/96’. MICHAEL scribbles Gloder: The Early Days on the cart’s label and readies the next book for flashing.

CUT TO:

EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING — SAME TIME

MUSIC continues: STEVE is still sitting serenely under the chestnut tree, apparently drawing.

We see the nylon bag.

We see STEVE’S left hand.

Close on the lens in the bag.

The MUSIC builds to a climax.

Now, a montage of SHOTS that go from movement to STILLS of people entering and leaving the building:—

A PAIR OF LAUGHING WOMEN, ARMS AROUND EACH OTHER’S SHOULDERS.

A NERDY-LOOKING STUDENT, STRAIGHTENING HIS SPECTACLES.

A COOL OLDER MAN IN SUNGLASSES.

AN ECCENTRICALLY SHOCK-HAIRED OLD PROFESSOR.

FOUR YOUNG STUDENTS, EATING ICE-CREAMS.

AN OLDER MAN, IN PROFILE, TALKING TO A WOMAN.

ANOTHER NERDY STUDENT, LOOKING LIKE A TIMID RABBIT

SUDDENLY—

A huge human THUMB comes into shot and pulls the last PHOTO away to reveal behind it the one before: the OLDER MAN, IN PROFILE, TALKING TO A WOMAN.

MICHAEL (OOV) (whispering excitedly): That’s him!

CUT TO:

INT. PJ’S PANCAKES, NASSAU STREET — EVENING

MICHAEL and STEVE are sitting at their table by the window in PJ’s. MICHAEL has the pile of photographs in front of him. He pulls one free.

MICHAEL (CONT’D): The beard’s gone, thank God -but it’s him all right.

STEVE takes the photos and replaces them in a folder. He looks around.

The place is not very full. The nearest table to them contains a couple of students, male and female, holding hands and obviously paying no attention. It seems safe enough.

STEVE: Good. Tomorrow I’ll find out where he lives. And how are you getting on in the library?

MICHAEL: All done. It’s a piece of piss.

STEVE: Excuse me?

MICHAEL: Easy. It’s ridiculously easy.

STEVE: Sure. But the next problem is, I’ve gotta show you how to use the Pads. So. we’ll go to your room and I’ll take you through it. But remember…we don’t say anything about all this.

JO-BETH the waitress comes forward.

STEVE: Hiya, Jo-Beth.

JO-BETH: Don’t you ‘Hiya Jo-Beth’ me, you prick.

STEVE (puzzled): I ‘m sorry?

JO-BETH: So, we’re seeing each other, are we? Well, it’s the first I ever did hear of it. Some kinda sick joke?

MICHAEL (gulping): Oh-oh.

STEVE: What are you talking about?

JO-BETH: Just where the heckfire do you get off, Steve Burns, telling Ronnie Cain that you and I are seeing each other?

What?

Oh, no.

STEVE:

MICHAEL: That’s my fault see…

JO-BETH and STEVE turn to him, surprised.

MICHAEL (CONT’D) (in some confusion): See, I told Ronnie how Steve admired you, Jo-Beth. You know, how he was plucking up courage to ask you out one of these days. I guess he got hold of the wrong end of the stick…

JO-BETH (a blushing smile): Yeah? Well why didn’t you tell me, Steve?

(hitting him playfully with a menu)

Honestly, you guys…you’re supposed to be smart, but you don’t know nothing about women…

STEVE makes an effort to grin. His blush only seems to confirm his devotion.

JO-BETH: Sure I’ll go out with you, Steve. You’re cute.

MICHAEL (nudging Steve cheerfully): There! See! What I tell you?

JO-BETH: So.

STEVE: Um.

JO-BETH

There’s a movie on at the Prytania…

CLOSE ON STEVE’S confused expression.

CUT TO:

EXT. PRINCETON CAMPUS — NIGHT

MICHAEL and STEVE are heading for HENRY HALL.

STEVE: Jesus Christ, Mikey…

MICHAEL: I’m sorry. It’s just that that guy, Ronnie. He was being obnoxious, you know. Dropping hints to me about you in the most pathetic, jocky way…so I…so I…

STEVE: So you told him I was seeing Jo-Beth.

MICHAEL: Well, it shut the prick up at least…

STEVE: What the hell am I gonna do? I’m supposed to go see a movie with her Friday night.

MICHAEL: Come on, don’t be such a wimp. You know how to watch a movie.

STEVE: Yeah, but what if she puts her arm round me? What if we’re supposed to go on somewhere and…

MICHAEL: Putting her arm round isn’t going to make you throw up is it? Come on! She’s a nice girl.

STEVE: You don’t understand, do you? You just don’t understand. It wouldn’t be fair to her. It wouldn’t be right.

MICHAEL: Okay, okay. Tell you what. I’ll go. I’ll tell her you’re sick. I’ll bring along a note from you and I’ll go in your place.

STEVE (miserably): Right. Then the pair of you go off to your room and screw, right?

MICHAEL: I don’t know. Maybe. Jesus, I’m sorry! I thought I was doing you a favour.

STEVE: Yeah, well next time you wanna do me a favour, you ask, okay?

MICHAEL: It’s only a week or so. A few more days even, if Leo is doing what I guess he’s doing. Here we are.

He looks up at the ivy-clad mock Gothic of Henry Hall.

CUT TO:

INT. MICHAEL’S ROOM, HENRY HALL — NIGHT

MICHAEL and STEVE are sitting in front of a computer. STEVE is pressing the screen.

They both talk in rather false voices, for the benefit of any listening devices that may be in the room.

STEVE: Gee, Mikey. It’s really strange that you still can’t remember how to use the system.

MICHAEL: I know. It’s all kind of coming back slowly. But I’m real grateful to you for helping me out.

They grin at each other like naughty schoolboys at the stupid formality of their speech.

STEVE: No problem. Let’s have a look at your work files, shall we?

The screen has some permanent icons around the edge: the central area is made up of pages. STEVE presses an icon and a number of buff coloured folders appear, with titles on their tabs.

MICHAEL: So this is, what, like on the Internet then?

STEVE: Excuse me?

MICHAEL: This computer is connected to other computers in a network?

STEVE: Right. This is not a computer, Mikey. This is a Pad.

Um.

MICHAEL: Pad?

STEVE: Personal Access Device. The computers are way across the other side of campus. The Pad is how you get at your stuff.

MICHAEL: Oh yes. Pad. I get you. Of course. But how do I type into it?

STEVE: Why would you wanna do that?

MICHAEL: Well, don’t I do my work on it? You know, word-processing, letters, assignments, stuff like that?

STEVE: You just talk to it.

MICHAEL: Oh, that’s right. I talk into it. It knows my voice?

STEVE: Sure it knows your voice.

MICHAEL: Then why isn’t it typing in what we’re saying?

STEVE laughs and slaps MICHAEL playfully on the shoulder.

STEVE: You touch the talk glyph, dummy.

We see the screen now. There is an icon device at the top left of the screen, this is the speech icon, known as a Talk Glyph.

STEVE (CONT’D): Okay, when you touch the talk glyph, it brightens, see? And everything you say is either a command or text to be typed in. Then you touch it again, to dull it and you can talk without it taking down everything you say. Now I can see you’ve got work stuff here. You’ve got notes on Hegel, right? So press the talk glyph and say ‘Fetch Hegel notes ’, or ‘fetch my notes on Hegel’, anything like that. If there’s more than one of something, it’ll put up the options and you touch the one you want, it’s real simple.

MICHAEL (worried): But what about this weird voice I’m talking in at the moment? This English accent?

STEVE: Shouldn’t be a problem.

MICHAEL leans forward and touches the talk glyph, which brightens.

MICHAEL (talking to the screen: very loud and clear): Fetch my notes on Hegel.

Nothing happens. STEVE touches the talk. glyph to turn it off.

STEVE: Woah, woah. You don’t have to shout. Just talk in your normal voice.

MICHAEL touches the talk glyph. It brightens again.

MICHAEL (casually): Fetch my notes on Hegel.

A kind of window opens to one side and a representation of a folder instantly appears, very high resolution, with ‘HEGEL NOTES’ written on the front and a list all down one side of different titles. ‘Biography’, ‘Dialectics’, ‘Hegel and Nietzsche’ and so on.

MICHAEL: Wow, that is so cool.

STEVE: Okay, now touch, this…

MICHAEL touches the screen where it says ‘Dialectics’. A page of very high-resolution, clear, anti-aliased text opens elegantly. It is a list of notes on Hegel and dialectics.

STEVE: Okay, so if you need to change anything, you just touch it. Then you touch the talk glyph and say what you want to say. You can’t miss.

MICHAEL looks at a whole area of text which reads: TEXT The first deduction gains the ideas of Nothing and Becoming from the idea of Being. We begin with the idea of Being, since there can be no idea more general than this. Applying to all there is, Being seems to have great fullness of meaning. And yet, because it makes no distinctions, the idea of Being reveals its emptiness, turning into its opposite, Nothing. But, then, the passage of Nothing into Being is what we mean by Becoming. In this manner we have derived the first three of Hegel’s 272 categories.

MICHAEL: These are my notes?

STEVE: Sure.

MICHAEL: Wow. I’m a genius!

MICHAEL leans forward and touches the first sentence: ‘The first deduction gains the ideas of Nothing and Becoming from the idea of Being. ’ Next he touches the talk glyph and speaks.

MICHAEL: This is just about the most coolest thing I’ve ever seen.

Instantly, the text now reads: ‘This is just about the most coolest thing I’ve ever seen.’

MICHAEL: Wow! Wicked. Totally wicked.

The text now reads: ‘This is just about the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. Wow! Wicked, totally wicked.’ STEVE laughs and touches the screen.

STEVE: You forgot to turn off the talk glyph.

MICHAEL: How does it know to punctuate?

STEVE: It doesn’t always get it right. But it knows about inflection and pauses and stuff like that, (recalling that they might be being overheard)

Are you sure you don’ t remember any of this?

MICHAEL: Oh. Yeah. Sure. It’s coming back. It’s all coming back. I’d just forgotten how cool it is. How neat. You know, real neat. But what’s this…

He points to a panel that says ‘Double superlative?’

STEVE: It’s questioning the phrase ‘most coolest’ on account of it’s a double superlative.

MICHAEL: (shaking his head in wonder) Wow!

STEVE: Sure.

MICHAEL: Okay. So. Suppose I’d gotten a book from the library and downloaded it onto one of those…

STEVE: Flashed it to a cart, you mean?

MICHAEL: Yeah. Flashed it to a cart.

STEVE quietly picks up the carts from MICHAEL’S bag. They have the titles scribbled on in MICHAEL’S hand, Gloder: The Early Years and so on.

STEVE: Well what you do is insert the cart…

He pushes the cart into the cart-port below the screen.

STEVE (CONT’D): A glyph appears on screen.

Indeed, we see on the screen that this is so. A representative icon in the shape of a cart.

STEVE (CONT’D):…you touch the glyph and…sim-salabim!

The glyph zooms open and pages of the book Gloder: The Early Years appear, perfectly reproduced, on the screen.

STEVE (CONT’D): To go through the pages, you touch the arrows here, see? Or use the talk glyph to go to any, page you want.

MICHAEL: And I can use this text, move it about, incorporate it in my own notes?

STEVE: Sure. The data on the cart will delete itself after two weeks. And any data you use in an assignment is automatically footnoted, copyrighted and placed in a bibliography at the end. To stop cheating, you know, copyright violation, that kind of thing?

MICHAEL: And where is all my work? I mean where actually, physically does it exist?

STEVE: Hell, I don’t know. Somewhere in the computing lab, I guess.

MICHAEL: But suppose I was writing letters home, personal stuff, diaries, that kind of thing?

STEVE: If you touch the privacy glyph here, no one but you can read it.

MICHAEL: Great. So now I can get on with my work. I can write essays and assignments and…how do I print them out?

STEVE: You just flash them to a cart and take them to a print room somewhere. There’s one in every faculty building, every dorm building. Nothing to it.

MICHAEL: This is so cool. I always knew Windows 95 was complete shit, but…

STEVE: Excuse me?

MICHAEL: Nothing, nothing. How long has all this been around? That is, I seem to have forgotten…

STEVE: This? This is ancient. This is a copy of a seventies European system. But you should see what’ s on the way. There’ s a German defector over here called Krause, Kai Krause. The stuff he’s coming up with would just send you spinning. I saw a demo at the computer lab one time.

(looking at the screen) Now, if you ever need to send a message, here’s what you do.

STEVE touches a message glyph at the side of the screen. The pages of text up on screen shrink neatly into themselves and a new screen is revealed behind. An array of beautifully designed glyphs.

STEVE: Touch the talk glyph and say your own name.

MICHAEL: (touching the talk glyph) Michael Young.

On screen two Michael Youngs appear. STEVE touches the talk glyph to turn it off.

STEVE: Oh-oh, you’ve got a double. You’re this one, ‘Young, Michael D’. The other guy’s just plain Young, Michael, no initial. ‘Sides, he’s a freshman. See? That’s his class-year next to his name.

STEVE touches the name YOUNG, MICHAEL D. A small panel appears.

MICHAEL: That’s me! 3 03, Henry Hall! What are all these icons?

STEVE: Glyphs, they’re glyphs, Mikey. You touch this one to open an info pane, this one to make a voice-call, this one to page, this one to leave a message on someone else’s Pad.

MICHAEL: Like an e-mail? Electronic mail, that kind of thing?

STEVE: Flashmail. You can either flash a voice message or a text message. This is how you place a phonecall.

MICHAEL leans forward and touches the phone glyph. Instantly, a telephone on the desk next to the screen rings.

MICHAEL: Jesus!

STEVE: Congratulations, you just called yourself. You can call me or anyone on campus this way. Live talk person-to-person, or, if you touch this glyph, leave a text message.

MICHAEL picks up the phone and examines it. It is not quite like any phone he has ever seen. It is cordless, but not like most mobile phones. More of a mix between a phone and a pager.

STEVE touches the phone glyph again and the ringing stops.

STEVE: That’s your mobile compad. Now, I’ll show you how to leave flashmail.

STEVE touches the flashmail glyph. A window opens on the screen.

STEVE: Leave yourself a message.

STEVE puts down the compad and presses the talk glyph. He turns to MICHAEL and indicates for him to speak.

MICHAEL: (to the terminal) Hiya, Mikey, how you doing? Good to see you the other night. Feel like going over to see the Yankee game next week? Catchalater, love Mikey.

STEVE presses the talk glyph again to deactivate it. Then he presses the flashmail glyph and the window disappears.

The computer gives a friendly, purring beep and a window flashes on screen. ‘Flashmail waiting…’

MICHAEL touches the flashmail glyph and a window opens: it says: 1 FLASHMAIL WAITING FOR MICHAEL YOUNG, FROM MICHAEL YOUNG. Michael’s own voice comes out perfectly from the speakers at the side of the screen.

SPEAKERS: Hiya, Mikey, how you doing? Good to see you the other night. Feel like going over to see the Yankee game next week? Catchalater, love Mikey.

MICHAEL (awe-struck): Hot-zigge-ty-dang!

STEVE: (shrugging) There you go. Lesson over.

They continue to talk for the benefit of any possible hidden listening devices.

MICHAEL: (standing up and stretching) Gosh, Steve. I don’t know how to thank you.

STEVE: (also standing) Hey, don’t thank me. It means you haven’t got any excuse now not to get back to work.

They are facing each other. STEVE is looking into MICHAEL’S eyes.

MICHAEL (embarrassed): So;

STEVE (also slightly awkward): Right. Well, I guess I’d better be.

MICHAEL, surprising himself, silently pulls STEVE towards him. He puts a hand on his cheek.

STEVE stares at MICHAEL, unable to move. The feeling of MICHAEL’S hand on his cheek is like an electric shock.

MICHAEL: (whispering, hardly audible) I mean it, really…thanks.

He leans forward and kisses STEVE on the lips.

STEVE puts his arms round MICHAEL’S neck and holds him tightly.

MICHAEL suddenly ends the kiss and pulls away. He goes to the door, opens it and says, in a clear voice.

MICHAEL: Goodnight then, Steve.

STEVE: (disappointed, hurt) Right…sure. G’night.

MICHAEL immediately closes the door loudly, before STEVE has had a chance to leave. MICHAEL puts a finger to his lips.

STEVE suddenly understands. He smiles in radiant relief, pure love and joy in his eyes.

They embrace.

EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING AFTERNOON

FADE TO: LATE

STEVE is by the chestnut tree again, bicycle leaning up beside it. He is reading. He looks up towards the entrance to the building. Nothing. He yawns and looks up at the sky, dreamily contented.

He stretches a hand for his nylon bag and takes out a compad, like the one we saw in MICHAEL’S room: a phone and pager combined.

STEVE smiles to himself as he taps its keys.

CUT TO:

INT. MICHAEL ’ S ROOMS — SAME TIME

MICHAEL is at the Pad, touching glyphs on the screen with great rapidity and assurance now.

Panes appear and reappear on-screen, zooming and cutting and mixing. We catch sight of large sections of text being highlighted and moved around. The name ‘Gloder’ appears a great deal.

Suddenly, on the screen, a panel appears accompanied by a PURRING BEEP: 1 Flashmail waiting…’

Surprised: Michael touches the screen.

A window opens: ‘Flashmail from S Burns, Dickinson Hall 105.’

MICHAEL reads the text.

MESSAGE: You are so cool.

XXX

MICHAEL smiles to himself and closes the window. He touches some more parts of the screen.

CUT TO:

EXT. QUANTUM MECHANICS BUILDING — SAME TIME

STEVE stands suddenly and looks towards the entrance of the Quantum Physics Building.

We see, from his POV, LEO, we’ll still call him that, emerging from the building, briefcase in hand.

STEVE scrambles to his bike, throws the book into the nylon bag and hoists the bag over his shoulder.

ANOTHER ANGLE: LEO is walking towards the car-park. In the background we see STEVE wheeling casually around in circles behind him.

LEO goes to a car, a small dark-blue convertible, and drops his briefcase onto the passenger seat.

CUT TO: LEO driving out of the car-park and STEVE pedalling furiously behind him.

CUT TO: STEVE, crouched low over the handlebars, concentrating on the car ahead.

Suddenly, we hear a BEEP-BEEP-BEEP come from the nylon bag over his shoulder.

CUT TO:

EXT. NASSAU STREET, PRINCETON — SAME TIME

LEO is in west-bound traffic, waiting at a stop light, tapping the steering-wheel. Two cars behind him, casually leaning against a parking meter, is STEVE.

With one eye keeping a watch on LEO’s car, STEVE digs out his compad and presses a button. We see the read-out.

READOUT: You are one bitching, slamming, waycool dude yourself…XXX

STEVE gives a grin, wide as a tree-frog’s. Then he looks up quickly. The lights have turned green and the traffic is starting to move.

The compad still in his hand, STEVE hares after the traffic.

Fortunately it is Princeton’s rush-hour.

There’s enough of a line of traffic on the road to allow STEVE to keep LEO in sight.

LEO proceeds west along Nassau and then peels off left. STEVE follows.

CUT TO:

INT. MICHAEL’S ROOM, HENRY HALL — SAME TIME

MICHAEL is still busy working. A message comes up: ‘Cart full! ’

MICHAEL ejects the cart and replaces it with another.

While he is labelling the full cart, another PURRING BEEP comes from the terminal. ‘Flashmail waiting!’

MICHAEL touches the screen and reads the text: MESSAGE

BINGO — QUARRY LOCATED…XXX PS: IS ‘BITCHING’ GOOD?

MICHAEL smiles and touches the screen.

CUT TO:

EXT. MERCER STREET, PRINCETON — SAME TIME

STEVE has leaned his bike against a tree and is standing opposite a house.

We see the blue convertible parked there and the number on the door, 22.

There is a beeping sound.

STEVE gets out his communicator.

READOUT: Good work! I’ve got printing to do. A&B, 7:00 pm? PS: ‘Bitching’ is as good as it gets. XXX

STEVE presses a button on the compad and climbs happily back onto his bike.

CUT TO:

INT. HENRY HALL, PRINCETON — SOME TIME LATER

MICHAEL emerges from his room clutching a bag. He closes the door and walks along the corridor.

He jumps down the stairs, five at a time, until he reaches the lobby. He goes to a door marked ‘Printing Room’ and enters.

CUT TO:

INT. PRINTING ROOM, HENRY HALL — SAME TIME

MICHAEL, alone in the room, approaches a large printer and presses a button on the front panel. The message comes up: ‘Student number?’

MICHAEL punches in his number. A message says: ‘Hello, Michael D Young. Please insert cart…’

MICHAEL gets out some carts from his bag, goes through them and inserts the first. A new message appears: ‘# of copies?’

MICHAEL punches ‘1’. Another message: ‘Collation method? 1=LOOSE 2=PUNCHED 3=LAMINATE-BOUND’.

MICHAEL thinks about this for a moment. He looks around and sees, on a shelf above the printer, a small tray of green string document tags. He presses ‘2’ on the control panel.

The message reads: “Now printing. Please wait. ’ There is a humming noise from the machine and the sound of paper being flicked and sucked and fed through rollers.

MICHAEL goes to a chair and gets out a book from his bag. We see the title: Darkness Falls by George Orwell. He starts to read.

MUSIC

FADE TO:

INT. HENRY HALL, PRINT ROOM — TIME LAPSE SEQUENCE

A series of shots:—

The printer’s control panel ejects a cart and the display comes up: ‘Next cart’.

MICHAEL jumps up from his reading, finds the next cart and places it in the machine.

He returns to the chair.

The control panel ejects the next cart.

MICHAEL replaces the next: the picture FADES to the next cart ejecting. Double and triple exposed images of MICHAEL standing up, sitting down, replacing carts, carts being ejected.

The machine beeps. CLOSE on the display. END MUSIC: The display reads: ‘224 Pages. You have been billed $25.00. Thank you, Michael D Young.’

MICHAEL stands looking stupidly at the machine. Where is the printout?

He walks round to the back. There is a moulded plastic handle at the rear of the printer.

MICHAEL lifts the handle cautiously.

Nestling neatly, squared, a punched hole lined up exactly at the top left of each page, is a tall stack of printed paper.

The top page reads :—

From Bayreuth to Munich The Roots of Power by Michael D Young

Below it is a turn-of-the-century sepia portrait of the very young Rudolf Gloder.

MICHAEL looks at the manuscript lovingly and breathes quietly to himself…

MICHAEL:

Das Meisterwerk!

CUT TO:

EXT. ALCHEMIST AND BARRISTER, PRINCETON -LATER

MICHAEL and STEVE are sipping beers in the corner of the courtyard at the table nearest the street. The tables either side of them are empty. MICHAEL checks the other tables.

STEVE: Hey, don’t be so paranoid. It makes you look suspicious.

MICHAEL: 22 Mercer Street. You’re sure?

STEVE: Sure I ‘m sure. I’ll show you on the map. Real easy to find. How the printing go?

MICHAEL pulls up his bag from the floor and opens the top. STEVE peeps inside.

STEVE (CONT’D): Jesus, how long is that?

MICHAEL: It repeats and repeats. He’ll only see the first couple of dozen pages. I’ll make sure of that.

STEVE: You’re the boss.

They sip beer for a while. Suddenly MICHAEL starts.

MICHAEL: Hey! It’s Friday today. Jo-Beth!

STEVE nods glumly.

STEVE: I know. I’ve been thinking about that and it’s okay.

MICHAEL: ‘You’ve been thinking about that and it’s okay?’ What does that mean?

STEVE: I’ll go. It’s no problem.

MICHAEL: You’ll go on the date?

STEVE: Uh-huh. I’ll go.

MICHAEL: But if she…you know…gets up close and personal?

STEVE: I’ll handle it.

MICHAEL thinks about this for a while.

MICHAEL: So now it’s my turn to be jealous.

STEVE is touched.

STEVE: Come on. You just said that to please me.

MICHAEL: Oh yeah?

STEVE doesn’t know whether to believe him or not.

STEVE: Another beer. I need one. For courage.

MICHAEL: Hey, she’s not gonna bite you, you know. You might even enjoy it. She’s a nice girl. There’s worse things.

STEVE (standing): Right.

CUT TO:

EXT. NASSAU STREET — NIGHT

STEVE is walking slowly along the sidewalk, now wearing a jacket and tie. He reaches PJ’s Pancake House. He looks through the window. He can’t see much. He swallows twice, straightens his tie and enters.

CUT TO:

INT. PJ’S PANCAKE HOUSE — NIGHT

JO-BETH is hanging up her waitress uniform. She turns when she hears the door.

STEVE (shyly): Hi there, Jo-Beth.

JO-BETH (embarrassed): Oh. Steve. Hi! Listen, um…I tried to get in touch with you…but…

STEVE: Is there a problem?

A MAN gets up from a seat and turns round. It’s RONNIE.

RONNIE: I am that problem…

STEVE: (staring in surprise) Ronnie?

RONNIE (shrugging cockily): Sorry, pal. But, like they r say. All’s fair in love and war, you know what I mean?

STEVE: Oh…you mean you and…? Oh, I get it.

JO-BETH: Steve I’m really sorry. Really I am. It’s just that Ronnie and I. We…

STEVE (putting up a hand): Hey! No, no. Really. It’s fine. I understand. Totally. I totally understand. Truly. Believe me.

RONNIE comes up to him grinning broadly.

RONNIE: Hey. Put it there, Burns. Taken like a man.

STEVE shakes RONNIE’S hand. Serious guy stuff.

STEVE: Sure. No problem. I’ll…I’ll see you guys around. Have a good time now, you hear? Enjoy the movie or…you know…whatever…

STEVE backs out, trying desperately to look at the same time bitterly disappointed and generous in defeat, whereas inside he is feeling exultant and relieved.

CUT TO:

INT. MICHAEL’S ROOM, BEDROOM, HENRY HALL -NIGHT

MICHAEL is lying in bed, reading Darkness Falls. He hears the sound of his door opening and sits up, alert.

The door to the bedroom opens and STEVE stands there.

MICHAEL looks surprised to see him and looks at his watch. It is only ten o’clock.

MICHAEL mouths the words, ’ How was the movie?’

STEVE shakes his head slowly and starts to kick off his shoes.

He mouths the word ‘Ronnie’.

MICHAEL switches on the radio next to his bed and turns up the volume. Country and Western music fills the room.

MICHAEL (under the music): Did you say ‘Ronnie’?

STEVE: He got in there real fast, I’ll say that for him.

MICHAEL: So you’ve been chucked? Jilted. Passed over. I never would have thought Jo-Beth had such poor taste.

STEVE smiles at the compliment, sits on the bed and ruffles MICHAEL’S hair.

STEVE (just loving the word): You are so cool…

He reaches over and switches off the radio.

CUT TO:

EXT. MERCER STREET, PRINCETON — EARLY MORNING

We PULL BACK from Number 22, where LEO’S blue car is still parked.

We LOOK down the street, beautiful in the early light. Birdsong, light dappling on the sidewalk, an idyllic summer morning.

MICHAEL is leaning against a tree on his bike. He has his bag in his hands and is checking the pages of the manuscript inside.

The first twenty or so pages are loose, the rest are firmly tagged.

He hears a noise and looks up the street to number 22.

A door opens. LEO emerges, a briefcase under his arm.

MICHAEL stiffens, arranges the bag over his shoulder and crouches over his handlebars, ready to go.

LEO starts the engine of his car and switches on the radio.

MUSIC floods out. Beethoven’s Eroica.

Tumpty-tumming to himself, LEO shoots a cursory glance into the driver’s mirror and backs slowly out of the driveway.

CUT TO:

ANOTHER ANGLE: Crouching low, tight to the tree-line, MICHAEL pedalling furiously towards us.

ANOTHER ANGLE: The trunk of the car slowly emerging from the driveway.

ANOTHER ANGLE: LEO humming lustily to Beethoven.

ANOTHER ANGLE: from WIDER and HIGHER, MICHAEL’S bike hurtling towards the emerging rear-end of the car.

ANOTHER ANGLE: LEO singing very lustily now: he accelerates the car backwards and…

THUMP! CRASH!

MICHAEL’S front wheel CRASHES into the blue metal of LEO’s car.

PAPERS fly in the air.

LEO slams on the brakes, aghast. Papers swirl about his head and flutter into the car itself.

LEO cuts the engine, the MUSIC dies.

LEO (leaping from the car): Oh my God. My God!

MICHAEL lies artistically on the road, the bulk of his manuscript still safely held in the bag.

LEO comes round and stoops anxiously. His accent is thickly Germanic, not a hint of American in it.

LEO: Are you all right? Oh, please God you are all right! I didn’t see you. I never saw you. Forgive me, forgive me.

MICHAEL (getting to his feet): Woah — that’s okay, sir. No bones broken. Whew!

He dusts himself down.

LEO: You are sure? You are not hurt?

MICHAEL: Guess I shoulda looked where I was going. It’s my fault. I was on the wrong side of the street…oh Jesus, my assignment!

MICHAEL looks in horror at the pieces of paper scattered all around and inside the car.

LEO: I get them for you. I get them, no problem. Please, stay where you are.

MICHAEL looks into his bag-.

MICHAEL: They’re mostly still here. Sheesh! I thought I was really screwed then.

LEO leaps about collecting papers from inside the car and around the curb.

LEO: Here. They are fine. They are…

He breaks off. He has seen the title page. MICHAEL looks at him innocently.

MICHAEL: They all there, sir? I guess I need…

(he checks the bag)…pages 1 through 24.

LEO looks through the pages, counting. MICHAEL studies his face carefully.

LEO (curious but watchful): All there. You are history student?

MICHAEL: Me? Oh, no, sir. Philosophy.

LEO: Philosophy? But, the title of your work, it…

MICHAEL: Oh, right! You see, I’m doing a paper on evil.

LEO: Evil? A paper on evil?

MICHAEL: Hm-hm. For my ethics course. I’ve been researching the early life of Rudolf Gloder. Every detail of his childhood. It’s not well covered. You’d be surprised what I’ve found out. Stuff about his mother, his birth. Everything. I have a theory that…oh, I’m sorry, sir. I’m boring you.

LEO: No, no. Not at all. Boring me? No.

MICHAEL holds out his hand.

MICHAEL: If I can have them, sir?

LEO (distracted): Excuse me?

MICHAEL: The pages?

LEO: Oh yes. Of course. Here. Forgive me.

(handing over the pages which MICHAEL tucks into the bag)

It is just that it seems so wrong. A boy like you, here…in this country. In America.

MICHAEL: Sir?

LEO: That you should worry your head with such a subject. What can you know of evil?

MICHAEL: Well, I guess we all know something about evil, sir. I mean, you only have to open a newspaper, am I right? Crime. Child murder. Corruption. And in history. The Moscow and Leningrad bombs. The JFS. The…

LEO: Excuse me? Tchayeffess? What is this tchayeffess?

MICHAEL: That’s J — F — S, sir. The Jewish Free State?

LEO: Ah, of course. JFS. I understand. What do you know of this JFS?

MICHAEL (shrugging): Well, no more ‘an anyone else I guess. There’s rumours. But you know…

LEO (nodding): Yes. Always there are rumours.

MICHAEL: Well, I’m sorry about the accident, sir…guess I’d better be moving along.

MICHAEL looks ruefully at the front wheel of his bike which is buckled, tyre flat, spokes dented.

LEO: Going? Good heavens, what are you talking? You must come in and clean up. I will have your bicycle to be repaired.

MICHAEL: Oh, that’s not necessary, sir…

LEO: No, no. I insist. Please. And afterwards I can give you a…what is the word? Wherever you need to go.

MICHAEL: A lift.

LEO (surprised): A lift? That is the English usage, no?

Oops.

MICHAEL (hastily): We say lift sometimes. Or ride.

Ah yes,

LEO ‘ride’. That is what I wanted to say. Much more American. I give you a ride into town, pardner. First you clean up, please.

MICHAEL picks the bike up and leans it against the hedge. They walk together, MICHAEL limping bravely, up along the pathway, towards the front door of the house.

ANOTHER ANGLE: LEO and MICHAEL, from a VERY LONG LENS, which wavers slightly, enter the house and the door closes.

ANOTHER ANGLE: STEVE, perched up a tree, is looking through his camera, which has a big telephoto-lens attached.

He puts it down and sits in the bough of the tree, swinging his leg beneath him. Everything seems to be going to plan.

Something catches his attention. He sits up again and puts the camera to his eye.

ANOTHER ANGLE: FROM STEVE’S CAMERA’S POV: We look up the line of cars parked along Mercer Street.

We pass along, stop suddenly and return down the line of cars to a maroon sedan, facing us. The driver’s side-window of the sedan is open and an elbow is visible, jutting out. The arm straightens right out and flicks ash from a cigarette onto the street.

Too much light is reflecting off the windshield to make out the face of the man behind the wheel.

ANOTHER ANGLE: STEVE scrabbles in his blue nylon bag and nearly falls out the tree in his haste.

He steadies himself and fishes from the bag a small, silver box which he opens. He pulls out a glass ring which he holds up to the light and looks through.

He polishes the ring with a- silk duster from inside the box. He closes the box and returns it to his bag and, one arm hooked around a branch for safety, he carefully attaches this glass ring to the end of the telephoto-lens. Now he lifts the camera to his eye once more.

ANOTHER ANGLE: FROM STEVE’S CAMERA’S POV: Again we move along the line of cars. This time, the polarising filter allows us to see through the glare of reflections on the windshields. We stop at the maroon sedan.

STEVE (00V) (under his breath): Holy shit…

The man behind the wheel is familiar to STEVE. It is HUBBARD.

CUT TO:

STEVE dropping the camera, which dangles from its strap against his chest.-He opens the nylon bag again and frantically scrabbles for his compad.

CUT TO:

INT. LEO’S HOUSE, MERCER STREET — SAME TIME

MICHAEL is in the kitchen, one leg up on the table. LEO turns back from the sink, a piece of cotton lint soaked in water in his hand. He dabs at MICHAEL’S grazed knee.

MICHAEL winces slightly.

LEO (anxiously): There is pain?

MICHAEL: No, no. It’s fine. Just stings a little, that’s all. I feel like the boy in The Go-Between.

LEO: Excuse me?

MICHAEL: It’s a movie. A kid cuts his knee sliding down a hay-rick and Alan Bates dabs at it just like this.

LEO: This movie I never saw.

MICHAEL: No. No, I guess not. Excuse me, I should tell you my name. I’m Michael Young.

LEO: How do you do, Michael Young. My name is Franklin. Chester Franklin.

MICHAEL (stifling a laugh): Really? Well, how do you do Mr Franklin.

He holds out a hand.

LEO (shaking hands): You find this name amusing?

MICHAEL (hastily): No! Please, I’m sorry. It’s just…well, you know…

LEO goes over to a waste-basket and drops in the cotton lint.

LEO: You are right. It is not, of course, my real name.

MICHAEL: Hey, that’s okay. None of my business, Mr Franklin. Or is that Doctor Franklin?

LEO: Professor Franklin. But please, call me Chester.

MICHAEL: You got it, Chester. People call me Mikey.

LEO: So tell me…er…Mikey. I find this paper you are writing most…

LEO’s observations are interrupted by a loud beep-beep-beep.

MICHAEL: Uh-oh, my compad. Do you mind?

LEO: Please.

MICHAEL’S bag is next to him on the kitchen table. With his back to LEO he pulls out his compad and looks at the read-out. He closes his eyes briefly for a second, mind racing hard. He turns to LEO.

MICHAEL (loudly): Gee, it’s real kind of you to clean me up like this, Chester.

As he speaks, he goes over to a yellow legal pad and picks up a pen next to it. He starts to write in frantic haste, the pen racing along.

MICHAEL (CONT’D) (loudly: while writing): I’m such a klutz, you know? Third time I’ve come off my bike this week.

LEO: I’m sure it was not your fault.

MICHAEL (talking over him): My friends tell me I should get a tricycle. You know, three wheels? Maybe it would be safer. Nice place you have here, Chester. Quiet little street. I live in a dorm. You a baseball fan, Chester?

LEO (rather puzzled by all this): Well, I…

MICHAEL: Baseball is my life. I eat baseball, drink baseball, sleep baseball. You should try and catch a game. It’s what the angels play in heaven. I guess you like soccer? We don’t really play much soccer here. American Football, you ever seen that? Basketball maybe. I’m not really tall enough for basketball. You have to be real tall to reach the basket, you know? Me I guess I’m average height at most, always wanted to be taller. Still, you can’t always get what you want, am I right?

During these last witterings, MICHAEL has torn off the top sheet from the pad and handed it to LEO. He holds it in front of his eyes, an urgent expression on his face. Bewildered, LEO fishes for his reading-glasses and reads.

From his POV we read the note too. It is written in big block capitals.

NOTE

Trust me. We are being watched. I know you are Axel Bauer. I am a friend. I can help you. I know about your father and Kremer and Brunau and Auschwitz. You must trust me. I can help.

LEO’s eyes widen with fear. He stares at MICHAEL dumbfounded.

MICHAEL holds a finger over his lips..

MICHAEL (loudly): Hey! Is that the time? Jeez, I’d better be going. Did you say you might give me a ride?

LEO just stands there, trembling slightly.

MICHAEL nods his head vigorously. LEO jerks out of his trance.

LEO: Hey? A ride? Of course. Certainly.

MICHAEL: (casual, loud voice) Guess we should be able to get that old bike of mine in back, if you don’t mind a bit of mud on the seats?

LEO shakes his head and realises he is supposed to answer for the benefit of any listening devices.

LEO (even louder): NO! NO PROBLEM. THE MUD IS FINE.

MICHAEL winces slightly and shakes his head smilingly. He takes the thoroughly bemused and shaken LEO by the shoulder and leads him through to the hallway. He has a sudden thought.

He rushes back into the kitchen, to where the yellow legal pad is. He pulls off the next top sheet, and then the next. What the hell. He pulls off thirty at once and takes them all with him.

MICHAEL (rejoining LEO in the hall): Okay then, let’s hit the road. Probably not the best metaphor, but you know what I mean, huh?

LEO (still too loud): YES. I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. HIT THE ROAD! HA-HA! MOST AMUSING.

They go to the front door.

EXT. MERCER STREET — SAME TIME

CUT TO:

WIDE on LEO and MICHAEL dumping the bicycle onto the back seat and getting into the front of the car.

ANOTHER ANGLE:

STEVE watches from his tree.

The car backs out of the drive. LEO has to slam the brakes on again as another bicycle comes shooting by.

CUT TO:

INTERIOR OF CAR.

LEO: My God. Not again!

MICHAEL (looking over his shoulder): It’s okay. You’re clear now.

CUT TO:

STEVE’S CAMERA’S POV.

LEO’S blue convertible backs out, straightens up and heads away.

We MOVE UP to the maroon sedan, a cigarette butt is thrown from the window, the car pulls out and follows LEO’s blue convertible.

CUT TO:

STEVE, lowering the camera, a worried look on his face.

EXT. PRINCETON STREETS — MORNING

LEO’s car emerges onto Nassau.

CUT TO:

INT. LEO’S CAR — SAME TIME

LEO, looking scared as hell, is driving badly.

MICHAEL: If you could just drive me round to University Place, that would be fine.

LEO: Please to tell me what…

MICHAEL stops him by putting a hand on his arm. LEO looks across. MICHAEL indicates the car instrument panel and points to his ears. LEO gets the message. Even the car might be bugged.

MICHAEL has an idea. He turns the radio on, loud. MUSIC: The Prelude to Act III of Lohengrin roars out, trumpets blaring.

MICHAEL (shouting above the music): I’ m sorry Axel. But you can’ t be too careful.

LEO: Who are you? How do you know my name? My God! I know! It’s you! You are the one!

MICHAEL frowns in puzzlement.

MICHAEL: What do you mean?

LEO (CONT’D): You are that student on the train, yes? They tell me I was talking in my sleep. They give me drugs to stop it happening again. You are that student that heard me talk on the train.

MICHAEL: Oh. Of course. Look, I’m sorry about that, Axel. That’s just what I told them. It’s not true. I was never on any train with you. I’m sure you don’t talk in your sleep. I had to make up some story to explain how I knew all about you, you see. It was all I could come up with at the time.

LEO (terrified): You are English. Your accent is English! Who are you working for? I stop the car right now.

The car swerves. Brakes squeal. Horns sound from behind.

MICHAEL (desperately straightening the wheel): No! Keep driving for God’s sake! We’re almost certainly being followed.

LEO: Followed? Followed? By whom?

MICHAEL: You know Hubbard and Brown?

LEO: I know them, yes.

MICHAEL: Hubbard has been watching your house.

LEO: But Hubbard is my friend! You. You are working for Europe. You are a Nazi !

MICHAEL (struggling to be heard over the music): No! Please believe me. I am not a Nazi. Listen, I know things. Things that you need to know. If I’m right, you will be trying to develop a machine.

LEO: Machine? What machine?

MICHAEL: To generate an artificial quantum singularity. To create a window on past time. You are obsessed by your father’s guilt. The factory he built at Auschwitz to mass-produce Brunau Water. Maybe you want to send something back in time. Something to destroy the factory perhaps. Something to stop Rudolf Gloder from being born. But I know what you really have to do. I know the answer.

(looking around) Just pull up here, outside the market.

The car has turned into University Place.

The Prelude to Act III of Lohengrin, meanwhile, has developed into the Bridal March that follows.

LEO stops the car with a squeal of brakes outside the Wawa Minimart. Next to it is a cycle shop called CYCLORAMA.

MICHAEL (CONT’D): I know the secret of Brunau Water. I know how it got there in the first place. I know who put it in the water supply of Brunau over a hundred years ago. Believe me. I know.

LEO stares at him.

VOICE: Hey!

LEO almost jumps out of his skin. A PASSERBY looks into the car and shouts over the music.

PASSER-BY: Congratulations on the wedding, guys. But how’s about turning it down, huh?

MICHAEL waves him away with a hand.

MICHAEL: (shouting in LEO’s ear) The Lake. West Windsor. Tonight. Eight o’clock. Please! I am a friend. Believe me. Whatever you do make sure you’re not being followed. A friend of mine will watch your back. He will be wearing red.

The PASSER-BY puts his hand in the car and wrenches down the volume.

PASSER-BY: Assholes!

The PASSER-BY straightens up and then, true to name and nature, passes on by.

MICHAEL (calling after him): Sorry, man.

(to LEO: feigned normality) So, thanks for the ride, Chester. Real nice to meet you. Hope it all goes well. You really should go see a ball-game one of these days.

MICHAEL gets out of the car, hauls his bike from the back seat and turns towards Cyclorama.

LEO is sitting, staring sightlessly forward.

MICHAEL (calling after him): So long then, Chester. I expect you need to be moving along now, right?

LEO turns to look at MICHAEL once more, doubt and anxiety in his eyes.

MICHAEL mouths the words ‘TRUST ME’, salutes him farewell and turns into the shop.

In the background, we see the front of the MAROON SEDAN which is parked around the corner. It does not follow LEO’s car. It stays where it is as MICHAEL enters the shop.

FADE OUT