"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 clich? -- 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)