Moviepedia

Recently, we've done several changes to help out this wiki, from deleting empty pages, improving the navigation, adding a rules page, as well as merging film infoboxes.

You can check out the latest overhauls that we have done on this wiki so far, as well as upcoming updates in our announcement post here.

READ MORE

Moviepedia
Advertisement

INT. OLD HOUSE -- DAY

    Sunlight comes through the soot on the windows, more brown than
    bright.  SOMERSET, 45, stands in one corner of this small,
    second-story room.  He looks over the ceiling, looks down at the
    worn wooden floors, looks at the peeling wallpaper.
    He walks to the center of the room, continues his study, taking
    his time.  He halts, turns to one wall where the current
    wallpaper is torn away to reveal flowery wallpaper underneath.
    Somerset goes to this wall and runs his finger across one of the
    pale, red roses which decorates the older paper.  He pushes the
    grime away, brings the rose out more clearly.
    He reaches into his suit pocket and takes out a switchblade.  He
    flips the thin, lethal blade free.  Working deliberately,
    delicately, Somerset cuts a square around the rose, then peels
    the square of dry wallpaper away from the wall.  He studies it in
    his hand.
    EXT.  OLD HOUSE -- DAY
    Somerset stands in front of the old home.  He looks out at the
    surrounding farms and forests.  He ponders something.  Birds
    sing.
                                 MAN (O.S.)
                  Is something wrong?
    Somerset does not respond, just stares off.  The MAN, 34, wears a
    real-estate broker's jacket and stands beside a FOR SALE sign in
    the muddy lawn.
                                 MAN
                  Is there something the matter?
    Somerset turns to face the man, then looks back at the house.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No.  No... it's just that everything here
                  seems... so strange.
                                 MAN
                  Strange?  There's nothing strange about
                  this place.  The house'll need a little
                  fixing up, that's for sure...
                                 SOMERSET
                  No.  I like the house, and this place.
                                 MAN
                  I was about to say.  Cause this place is
                  about as normal as places get.
    Somerset nods, taking a deep breath.  He smiles.
                                 SOMERSET
                  That's what I mean.  Strange.
    Somerset looks back to the beautiful landscape.  The man does not
    understand.
    INT.  AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY
    Somerset is in the window seat, looking out the window of the
    speeding train, smoking a cigarette.  He is near the back of the
    car, away from the few other passengers.
    Outside, farms, fields, small homes and lawns rush by.  The
    panorama is dappled by the rays of the soon to be setting sun.
    INT.  AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY
    The train is almost full, moving slower.  Somerset has his
    suitcase on the aisle seat beside him.  He holds a hardcover book
    unopened on his lap.  He still stares out the window, but his
    face is tense.  The train is passing an ugly, swampy field.  The
    sun has gone under.
    Though it seems impossible it ever could have gotten there, a
    car's burnt-out skeleton sits rusting in the bracken.
    Ahead, the city waits.  The sky is full of smokestacks and huge
    industrial cranes.
    INT.  AMTRACK TRAIN -- LATER DAY
    The train is passing urban streets below.  Slums and smashed
    cars.  People stand in groups in the corners.  Bleak.
    Somerset's suitcase is now on the window seat.  Somerset has
    moved to the aisle.  He is reading his book.  He looks up from
    the book and rubs his eyes, then looks back to continue reading,
    not once looking out the window.
    EXT.  CITY STREET -- NIGHT
    Somerset carries his suitcase outside the train station.  The
    city demands attention: cars screeching, people yelling, sirens
    blaring.
    Somerset passes a family of bewildered tourists.  A WEIRD MAN has
    a hand on the tourist-father's suitcase.
    It has become a tugging match with the Weird Man shouting, "I'll
    take you to a taxi... I'll take you."  Ahead, a group is gathered
    on the sidewalk near two ambulances.  People clamor to get a look
    at a BLOODY BODY which lies on the street.
    Policeman try to hold the crowd off.  Ambulance attendants
    administer aid to the victim, who convulses.  Somerset moves by,
    ignoring it all.  He motions for a cab.  One pulls up from the
    street's stream of vehicles.
    INT.  CAB -- NIGHT
    Somerset throws his suitcase in and shuts the door behind him.
                                 CAB DRIVER
                          (about the crowd)
                  What's the big fuss?
    Somerset looks out at the crowd, looks at the driver.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Why do you care?
                                 CAB DRIVER
                          (under his breath)
                  Well, excuse me all to hell.
    The driver leans forward, checking it out.  The circle of
    spectators shifts suddenly.  A man has shoved another man and
    they're really going at it now.  The swing at each other and tear
    at each other's clothing.  One man's flailing fist connects and
    the other man's face is instantly bloodied.  The fight grows even
    more spastic.  Policemen try to stop it.
                                 CAB DRIVER
                  Crazy fucks.
    The driver pulls away and the cab rages down the street.
    Somerset watches the parade of neon passing on the avenue.  He
    slumps back in the seat and closes his eyes.
                                 CAB DRIVER
                  Where you headed?
    Somerset opens his eyes.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Far away from here.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT
    The curtains are closed.  The SOUNDS of the CITY are here as they
    will be everywhere in this story.  A CAR ALARM is SOUNDING,
    shrill and clear.  Somerset's life is packed into moving boxes,
    except for some clothing in a closet and hundreds and hundreds of
    books on the shelves of one wall.  Somerset is lying on the bed,
    dressed only in his underwear.
    He reaches to the nightstand, to a wooden, pyramidical metronome.
    He frees the metronome's weighted swingarm so it moves back and
    forth.  Swings to the left -- TICK, swings to the right -- TICK.
    Tick... tick... tick... measured and steady.
    Somerset situates on the bed, closes his eyes.  Tick... tick...
    tick.  The metronome's sound competes with the sound of the car
    alarm.  Somerset's face tightens as he concentrates on the
    metronome.  His eyes close tighter.  Tick... tick... tick.  The
    swingarm moves evenly.  Somerset's breathing deepens.
    Tick... tick... tick.  The car alarm seems quieter.
    Tick... tick... tick.  Somerset continues his concentration.  The
    metronome's sound seems louder.
    Tick... tick... tick.  The sound of the car alarm fades, and is
    GONE.  The metronome is the only sound.
    Somerset's face relaxes as he begins to fall asleep.  Tick...
    tick... tick...
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    SUNDAY
    INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- MORNING
    Somerset picks items off a moving box: his keys, wallet,
    switchblade, gold homicide badge.  Finally, he opens the
    hardcover book he had with him on the train.  From the pages, he
    takes the pale, paper rose.
    INT.  TENEMENT APARTMENT -- DAY
    Somerset stands before a wall which is stained by a star-burst of
    blood.  A body lies on the floor under a sheet.  A sawed-off
    shotgun lies not far from the body.  The apartment is gloomy.
    DETECTIVE TAYLOR, 52, stands on the other side of the room, looks
    through a notepad.
                                 TAYLOR
                  Neighbors heard them screaming at each
                  other for like two hours.  It was nothing
                  new.  But, then they heard the gun go off.
                  Both barrels.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Did the wife confess?
                                 TAYLOR
                  When the patrolman came she was trying
                  put his head back together.  She was crying
                  too hard to say anything.
    Somerset beings walking around the apartment.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Why always like this?  Only after the
                  fact... this sudden realization, that if
                  you shoot someone, or stick a knife in
                  them, that person will cease to exist.
                                 TAYLOR
                  Crime of passion.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Yes.  Look at all the passion splattered up
                  on the wall here.
                                 TAYLOR
                  This is a done deal.  All but the
                  paperwork.
    Taylor shifts his weight, impatient.  Somerset looks at a
    coloring book open on the coffee table.  There are crayons beside
    it.  Somerset picks the book up, flips through the pages.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Did their son see it happen?
                                 TAYLOR
                  I don't know.
    Taylor closes his notebook, perturbed.  Somerset looks at the
    pictures of cute, crudely colored animals.
                                 TAYLOR
                  What kind of fucking question is that
                  anyway?
    Taylor walks over and grabs the coloring book to get his
    attention.
                                 TAYLOR
                  You know, we're all real glad we're getting
                  rid of you, Somerset.  You know that?  I
                  mean, it's always these questions with
                  you... "Did the kid see it?"  Well, who
                  gives a fuck?  Huh?
                          (points)
                  He's dead.  His wife killed him.
    Taylor throws the coloring book back to Somerset and walks.
                                 TAYLOR
                  Anything else has nothing to do with us.
    Taylor leaves, pushing past DETECTIVE DAVID MILLS, 31, who is
    just entering.  Mills is muscular and handsome.  He looks back at
    Taylor, then around the apartment, a bit disoriented.
    Somerset puts down the coloring book.  He stares at the floor,
    showing no reaction to Taylor's tantrum.
                                 MILLS
                  Uh, Lieutenant Somerset?
    Somerset turns to see Mills.
    EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY
    A body bag is carried through a crowd of people outside the
    tenement building.
    Somerset follows the body bag out and Mills follows Somerset.
    They walk towards the end of the filthy block, past a man
    urinating on a car.
                                 MILLS
                  I'm a little thrown.  I just got in town
                  like twenty minutes ago and they dumped me
                  here.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Since we're just starting out, I thought we
                  could go to a bar... sit and talk for
                  awhile.  After that, we'll...
                                 MILLS
                          (interrupting)
                  Actually, if it's all the same, I'd like to
                  get to the precinct house a.s.a.p.  Seeing
                  how we don't have much time for this whole
                  transition thing.
    Somerset keeps walking, says nothing.
                                 MILLS
                  I need to start getting the feel of it all,
                  right?  Meet the people.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I meant to ask you something, Mills, when
                  we spoke on the phone.  I can't help
                  wondering... why here?
                                 MILLS
                  I... I don't follow.
                                 SOMERSET
                  All this effort you've made to get
                  transferred, it's the first question that
                  pops into my head.
                                 MILLS
                  I'm here for the same reasons as you, I
                  guess.  Or, at least, the same reasons you
                  used to have for being here before...
                  before you decided to... quit.
    Somerset stops and faces Mills.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You just met me.
                                 MILLS
                  Maybe I'm not understanding the question.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's very simple.  You worked a nice, quiet
                  town, but you fought to get here as if your
                  life depended on it.  I've just never seen
                  it done that way before, Detective.
                                 MILLS
                  Maybe I thought I could do more good here
                  than there.  I don't know.  Look, it'd be
                  great by me if we didn't start right off
                  kicking each other in the balls.  But,
                  you're calling the shots, Lieutenant, so...
                  however you want it to go.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Let me tell you how I want this to go.  I
                  want you to look, and I want you to listen.
                                 MILLS
                  I wasn't standing around guarding the local
                  Taco Bell.  I've worked homicide for five
                  and a half years.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Not here.
                                 MILLS
                  I realize that.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Well, over the next seven days, do me the
                  favor of remembering it.
    Somerset turns and walks away.  Mills stands a moment, pissed.
    He follows after Somerset.
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    MONDAY
    INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT -- EARLY MORNING
    Somerset lies asleep in bed.  It is still dark outside.  The
    PHONE beside the inactive metronome RINGS.  Somerset awakens
    suddenly, startled.  He looks towards the phone.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- EARLY MORNING
    It is just barely becoming light outside.  Mills is wide awake in
    bed beside the sleeping form of his wife, TRACY, 30.  Mills looks
    tired.  He listens to passing traffic.  He covers his eyes with
    his forearm.
    He takes his arm away and sits up, frustrated, sits on the edge
    of the bed.  The room is a shambles, filled with moving boxes.
    Light coming through the window glows upon a football trophy
    sticking from one box.
    Large and noble, a golden player stands in frozen motion at the
    trophy's pinnacle.
    Mills looks at the trophy and a fond smile forms on his face.
    The PHONE RINGS.  Mills looks towards it.  Tracy awakens.  She
    looks up with half-opened eyes, a beautiful woman.
                                 TRACY
                  What is it?
    Phone rings.  Mills reaches to touch Tracy's shoulder.
                                 MILLS
                  It's okay.
    Mills leans to get the phone.  Tracy seems frightened.
                                 TRACY
                  Honey... where are we?
    EXT.  APARTMENT BUILDING, ALLEYWAY -- EARLY MORNING
    Somerset and Mills, both wearing badges, walk with OFFICER DAVIS,
    a beefy, uniformed cop.  They pass police cars and head into a
    trash strewn alleyway.  Davis hands Somerset two flashlights.
                                 DAVIS
                  Everything's like I found it.  I didn't
                  touch anything.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What time did you confirm the death?
                                 DAVIS
                  Like I said, I didn't touch him, but he's
                  had his face in a plate of spaghetti for
                  about forty-five minutes now.
    They reach a rusty, side door, which Davis pulls open.
    INT.  APARTMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- EARLY MORNING
    They enter a dark, ugly stairwell.
                                 MILLS
                          (to Davis) 
                  Hold on... you mean you didn't check for
                  vital signs?
                                 DAVIS
                  Did I stutter?  Believe me, he ain't
                  breathing, unless he's started breathing
                  spaghetti sauce.
                                 MILLS
                  The point is, whenever you find...
                                 DAVIS
                  Begging your pardon, but the guy's sitting
                  in pile of his own shit and piss.  If he
                  ain't dead, he would've stood up by now.
    Mills is angry, about to speak, but Somerset heads him off.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to Davis)
                  Thank you, officer.  We'll need to talk to
                  you again, after we've looked around.
                                 DAVIS
                  Yes, sir.
    Davis walks out, eyeing Mills.  Mills watches him go.  The rusty
    door slams shut behind Davis.  It's very dark.  Somerset turns on
    his flashlight, hands the other to Mills and starts upstairs.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I wonder what exactly was the point of the
                  conversation you were about to get into?
                                 MILLS
                  And I wonder how many times Officer Davis
                  there has found a dead man who wasn't
                  really dead until Davis was in the car
                  calling it in and eating a donut.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Drop it.
                                 MILLS
                  For now.
    INT.  APARTMENT BUILDING, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING
    Somerset comes from the stairwell, looking down the dark hall.
    At the end of the hall, a door is open.  The light of a CAMERA
    FLASH spills out from that room every few seconds.
    Mills and Somerset move on.  Somerset takes out rubber gloves and
    slips them on, looking at something on the floor ahead.  A yellow
    RECYCLING BIN sits just outside the door.  It contains many neat,
    string-bound stacks of issues of READER'S DIGEST.
    INT.  APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- EARLY MORNING
    There are lights on in this room.  Lamps with dusty shades.  A
    few porn mags on a table.  Somerset and Mills cross.  A couch
    against one wall is piled with yellowed, once white pillows.  It
    faces two small televisions, both on with no sound.
    INT.  APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- EARLY MORNING
    Somerset and Mills enter, using their flashlights in the dark.
    Mills takes out a handkerchief, covering his nose.  ERIC is
    crouched on the floor, putting camera equipment away.
    He's wearing a medical mask over his face.  He hoists his bag and
    moves past the detectives.
                                 ERIC
                  Enjoy.
    Eric leaves.  Somerset sweeps the room with his flashlight...
    At the stove, each burner has a used pot or pan on it.  Food has
    been slopped there and on the adjoining counter-top and sink.
    Used utensils are everywhere, along with empty tin cans and jars.
    Cockroaches swarm.
    The flashlight beam follows a trail of dripped sauces, soups and
    crumbs of food across the floor from the stove to a kitchen
    table.  The kitchen table is covered in soiled paper plates which
    hold bits of half-eaten sandwiches, potatoes, beef stew, donuts
    and many other junk foods.
    The kitchen is tiny; barely enough room for three people.  The
    kitchen table is at the center of the room.  An OBESE MAN is
    slumped forward in a kitchen chair.  He is face down dead in a 
    plate of spaghetti.
                                 MILLS
                  Christ... somebody phone Guinness.  I think
                  we've got a World's Record here.
    Mills walks to the dead man, leaning to study, without touching.
                                 MILLS
                  Who said this was murder?
                                 SOMERSET
                  No one yet.
                                 MILLS
                  Then, why are we wasting our time?  This
                  guy's heart's got to be roughly the size of
                  a canned ham.  If this isn't a coronary, I
                  don't know what is.
    Somerset moves his flashlight beam down the obese corpse, stops
    at the man's feet.  Somerset kneels.
    At the obese man's pants cuff, there's a tiny bit of rope
    sticking out.  Somerset uses a pen to lift the pants leg.  Rope
    is tied around the swollen, purple ankle.
                                 MILLS
                  Or not.
    Somerset stands and steps back.  Mills bends to take his place,
    looking under the table and shining his flashlight into the
    corpse's lap.  The obese man's bloated hands are folded there,
    bound tightly with rope.
                                 MILLS
                  Still... he could have tied himself up, to
                  make it look like murder.  I saw a guy
                  once... committed suicide, but wanted to
                  make sure his family could collect the life
                  insurance, right?
    Somerset does not listen.  He is focused on the corpse, studies
    the back of the man's head and neck.  He runs his pen against the
    back of the corpse's neck, combing the hair upwards.
    There are small circular and semi-circular BRUISES on the back of
    the obese man's head and neck, some hidden under the hair.
                                 MILLS
                  When we found him, he was lying there with
                  a knife in his back, so what else could it
                  be but homicide?  Except, I finally figured
                  out... he held the knife behind him... put
                  the tip of it in his own back and got real
                  close to the wall... then he shoved his
                  body backwards...
                                 SOMERSET
                          (irritated)
                  Please be quiet for a while, would you?
    Mills looks up at Somerset from below.  Somerset remains focused
    on the bruises.
                                 MILLS
                          (sarcastic)
                  Oh, yes, sir.  Forgive me.
    Mills stands and walks around to the other side of the table,
    where he gets down again.
                                 MILLS
                  There's a bucket here.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What?
                                 MILLS
                  There's a bucket.  Under the table.
    Somerset crouches, pulls up the cheap tablecloth on his side of
    the table.  A METAL BUCKET sits under the table.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What is it?
    Mills slides under with his flashlight, angling in the confined
    space to look.  He is repulsed and pulls back.
                                 MILLS
                  It's vomit.
    Mills stands and backs away, near the refrigerator, not wanting
    to be anywhere near that bucket.
                                 MILLS
                  It's a bucket of vomit.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Is there any blood in it?
                                 MILLS
                  I don't know.  Feel free to look for
                  yourself, okay?
    Somerset stands, stares at the obese man.  He shakes his head,
    perplexed.  There is a KNOCK at the door.  The detectives look to
    see DOCTOR THOMAS O'NEILL, 52, the medical examiner, in the
    doorway.  O'Neill is looking at the ceiling.  He flicks the lights
    switch.  No light, so he flicks the switch up and down.
                                 O'NEILL
                  Wonderful.
    O'Neill seems a bit gone.  He drops his black bag onto the floor
    beside the corpse.  he begins to sort through the bag, surgical
    tools clinking together.
    Mills turns to open the refrigerator.  It's nearly empty.
                                 MILLS
                          (to Somerset)
                  You think it was poison?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Guessing at this point is useless.
    The trash can beside the refrigerator is filled to the brim with
    empty food containers.  Mills begins to poke around with a pen.
                                 O'NEILL
                  You girls have got forensics waiting
                  outside.  I don't know if we'll all fit
                  though.
                                 MILLS
                  There's room.  Light's the problem.
    Somerset looks at Mills, then at the space limitations.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Still... two is company here.  And, three
                  is certainly a crowd.
                          (pause)
                  Detective Mills, go help the officers
                  question the neighbors.
    Mills looks up, not pleased.
                                 MILLS
                  I'd rather stay on this.
    Somerset is looking at the corpse.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Send one of the forensics in on your way
                  out.
    Mills does not move.  He lifts his flashlight to shine the light
    on the side of Somerset's face.  A moment.  Somerset looks at
    Mills, the light shining directly in Somerset's eyes.  A longer
    moment.  Mills switches off the light and leaves.
    O'Neill places both hands on the dead man's head and lifts the
    swollen visage from the spaghetti.
                                 O'NEILL
                  He is dead.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Thank you, Doctor.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY
    Somerset drives with Mills as the passenger.  Heavy city traffic.
    Both stare ahead in silence.  Mills is a bundle of nerves.
                                 MILLS
                  You've seen my files, right?  Seen the
                  things I've done?
                                 SOMERSET
                  No.
                                 MILLS
                          (looking out window)
                  Anyway... I did my time on door-to-doors,
                  and walking a beat.  I did all that shit
                  for a long time.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Good.
                                 MILLS
                  The badge in my pocket says "detective,"
                  same as yours.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I made a decision, because I have to
                  consider the integrity of the scene.  I
                  can't worry whether you think you're
                  getting enough time on the playing field.
                                 MILLS
                  Yeah, well, all I want is...
                          (pause)
                  Just, just don't be jerking me off.  That's
                  all I ask.  Don't jerk me off.
    Mills looks at Somerset.  Somerset keeps his eyes on the road,
    but nods slightly.  That said, Mills slumps low into his seat.
                                 SOMERSET
                  We'll be spending every waking hour
                  together till I leave.  I'll show you who
                  your friends are, and your enemies.  I'll
                  help you cut through the red tape and I
                  will help you "integrate," as the captain
                  puts it.  However...
                          (pauses, clears throat)
                  No matter how much you beg or plead...
                  jerking off is something you'll have to do
                  for yourself.
    This throws Mills.  Somerset has a sense of humour?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Is that clear?
                                 MILLS
                  Okay... sure...  It's just that, with my
                  old partner, you know...
                                 SOMERSET
                  I just don't think we should have that sort
                  of relationship.  We'd start quarreling
                  over insignificant things.
    Mills lets out a nervous laugh, feels a bit of weight off his
    shoulders.
                                 MILLS
                  Whatever you say, Detective.  Beautiful.
    INT.  AUTOPSY ROOM -- DAY
    The room is large, cold and clean.  Stainless steel and white
    tile.  Many pathologists work at slabs.  A bone saw screams.
    Mills and Somerset are with DOCTOR SANTIAGO, who stands over the
    obese corpse which is pretty well dissected already.
                                 SANTIAGO
                  He's been dead for a long time, and I can
                  tell you it was not a poison.
    Santiago moves to make room for Mills to stand beside him.  Mills
    moves up a little, but not much, looking on in disgust.  Santiago
    reaches into the man's belly.  We do not see.
                                 MILLS
                  Ah, man... how does somebody let himself go
                  like that?  Look at the blubber.
    Santiago moves something and there is a squashy sound.
                                 SANTIAGO
                  It took four orderlies and me all together
                  just to put this body on the table.
                                 MILLS
                  How did the fat fuck ever fit out the door
                  of his apartment?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Yes, it's obvious he was a shut-in.  Not an
                  enviable life, but, maybe he still deserves
                  a modicum of respect in spite of that.
                                 SANTIAGO
                  Are you looking here?  First... see how big
                  this stomach is.  And, see the strange
                  thing.  Stretches.  And, here it is
                  distended.  Look at the size of that,
                  because of all the foods.
                                 MILLS
                  I can see what you're pointing at, but...
                                 SANTIAGO
                  Lines of distention across the stomach, and
                  parts have ripped open.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (disbelief)
                  Doctor, are you saying... this man ate till
                  he burst?
                                 SANTIAGO
                  Well, he didn't really burst.  Not all the
                  way.  But, he was bleeding inside himself,
                  and there is a hematoma on the outside, on
                  the belly.  Very large.
                                 MILLS
                  He died by eating?
                                 SANTIAGO
                  Yes.  And, there's something else here you
                  have to look at and see.
    Santiago goes to root through many jars on a table.  Somerset
    walks around the slab, looking down at the obese man's propped
    up, partially shaved head.
                                 SOMERSET
                  These bruises on the victim's head...
    More round and semi-circular bruises have been revealed, all
    about the same diameter as a dime.
                                 SANTIAGO
                  I don't know what they are yet.  They...
                                 SOMERSET
                  They could have been caused by a gun.  The
                  barrel of a gun... pressed against the back
                  of his head.
    Santiago picks up the jar he was looking for, comes to lean and
    look at the obese man's head, nodding again.
                                 SANTIAGO
                  If it was jammed against him hard enough,
                  sure.  It's possible.  Here...
    Santiago gives the jar to Somerset.
                                 SANTIAGO
                  Most of the stomach's food contents are in
                  the lab now.... but, these... I found these
                  in his stomach too.
    Somerset holds the jar up.  Inside are many little pieces of blue
    plastic.  They are curled slightly, as if they are scrapings.
    Somerset hands the jar to Mills.  Mills shakes it, studying.
                                 MILLS
                  Plastic?
                                 SANTIAGO
                  Why these are in a fat man's stomach, I
                  don't know.
    INT.  APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- DAY
    The room where the obese corpse was found is now lit by
    fluorescent light.  Two forensics, a MALE and FEMALE, are dusting
    for prints.  Somerset and Mills are on their hands and knees.
    Somerset holds the jar and touches the linoleum floor.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Same color and texture.
                                 MILLS
                          (to forensics)
                  Have you found any plastic scrapings near
                  the stove or sink?  Near the food?
                                 MALE FORENSIC
                  What do you mean?
    Mills and Somerset continue looking around the floor.
                                 MILLS
                          (to Somerset)
                  This doesn't make any sense.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You always have to find one singular thing
                  to focus on.  There's always one thing, and
                  it may be as small as a speck of dust, but
                  you find it and focus... till it's an
                  exhausted possibility.
    The forensics watch, curious.  Somerset is near the refrigerator.
                                 MILLS
                  It could be nothing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  But, why would there be so many pieces in
                  his stomach if it were nothing?  It must
                  have been intentional.
    Somerset stops.  There are deep scratches here in the linoleum.
    He fingers the grooves, then takes a piece of the plastic from
    the jar.  He holds the piece to the floor, fiddles... fits it
    into one of the scratches.
    Somerset gets off the floor and looks down.  These scratches are
    in front of the refrigerator.  it looks like they were caused by
    the refrigerator having been pulled away from the wall and pushed
    back into place at some time.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to Mills)
                  Come here.
    INT.  APARTMENT, KITCHEN -- LATER DAY
    Mills and Somerset pull the refrigerator, rocking it back and
    forth away from the wall to get a clear view behind it.  They
    strain, pull it a few more feet, and release.
    Mills leans to look at the wall behind.  Shock.
                                 MILLS
                  Holy shit.
    Somerset comes to look.  Behind the refrigerator, there is a
    space on the wall where the dust has been wiped away.  In that
    space, the words: ONE IS GLUTTONY.  The letters have been
    smeared on in grease.  A NOTE is pinned beside them.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, CAPTAIN'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING
    The captain's office is filled with pictures, books and
    mugsheets.  Piles of paperwork abound, yet the office is
    meticulously well kept.  The CAPTAIN, 50, sits at his tidy desk.
    He wears a white shirt and conservative tie.
    He's a calm man, but whenever he is not speaking, without fail,
    he clenches his jaw over and over, causing the muscles in his
    neck and jaw to pulse.  Somerset and Mills sit before him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  The bruises were caused by the muzzle of a
                  forty-five.  So, there was a gun against
                  his head and he was given a choice.  Eat,
                  or get your brains blown out.
    Somerset gets up to pace.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He ate his fill, and was forced to continue
                  eating... till his body rejected the food.
                  the killer held a bucket under him, and
                  then kept serving.  He took his time.  The
                  coroner says this might have gone on for
                  more than twelve hours.  The victim's
                  throat was swollen from the effort, and
                  there was probably a point where he passed
                  out.  That's when killer kicked him in the
                  stomach.  Popped him.
                                 MILLS
                  This was one sadistic motherfucker.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  That seems obvious.
    Somerset picks up a photocopy of the NOTE from behind the fridge.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (reads)
                  "Dear Detectives, Long is the way, and
                  hard, that out of hell leads up to light."
                  It's the murderer's way of announcing
                  himself.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Announcing what?
                                 SOMERSET
                  There are seven deadly sins.  Gluttony,
                  wrath, greed...
                                 CAPTAIN
                  So what?  This victim...
                                 SOMERSET
                  ... envy, sloth, pride and lust.  Seven.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Hey, so gluttony is one of the seven deadly
                  sins.  But, this was a fat guy.  The killer
                  may have felt this was the just best way to
                  torture him.
                  And, writing on the walls happens all the
                  time.  It's like the fashionable thing to
                  do.
                                 SOMERSET
                  One is gluttony.
    The captain is disgruntled, clenching his jaw, looks at Mills.
                                 MILLS
                  This is his stuff.  I've been out in the
                  cold all day.
                                 SOMERSET
                  This is a premeditated puzzle, and it's
                  only the beginning.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Always working up there, huh, Somerset?
                  Big brain's always cooking.
    Somerset sits.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'm declining this case.  I want us
                  reassigned.
                                 MILLS
                  Whoa, whoa... what?!
                                 CAPTAIN
                  What's this: "I'm declining this case?"  It
                  don't work that way.
                                 SOMERSET
                  This can't be my last duty here.  It will
                  go on and on.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  I know what you're thinking, okay?  You
                  don't want to get in bed with this every
                  night, but it's different now.  You're
                  retiring.  In six days you're all the way
                  gone.
    Somerset shakes his head.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  You've left unfinished business before.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Everything else was taken as close to
                  conclusion as humanly possible.  Also...
                  this shouldn't be his first assignment.
                                 MILLS
                  This isn't my first assignment, dickhead.
                  What the hell?
    Mills stands, furious.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  I don't have anyone else to give this to,
                  Somerset, you know that.  And nobody's
                  going to swap with you.
                                 MILLS
                  Give it to me.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  How's that?
                                 MILLS
                  There's nothing that says I have to work
                  with him.  If Somerset wants out,
                  "goodbye."  Give it to me.
    The captain considers this.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's too soon for him.
                                 MILLS
                          (to the captain)
                  Can we talk about this in private?
    The captain looks at Somerset, then at Mills.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  That's not necessary.  You're in.
                                 MILLS
                  Thank you.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Go start picking up the pieces.  We'll
                  shuffle some paper and try to get you a new
                  partner.
    Mills looks at Somerset, then leaves, closing the door.  Somerset
    seems deflated, staring at the floor.  He looks at the captain.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  You win, Somerset.  You're out.
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    TUESDAY
    EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY
    A newspaper vendor lays out a pile of tabloid newspapers at the
    front of his busy newsstand.
    The papers' headline is: BIZARRE MURDER!, in huge, black print.
    The vendor lays out another tabloid pile.  Headline: "EAT OR DIE"
    SAYS GLUTTONY KILLER!!, in big, red letters.
    The vendor throws down a third tabloid stack.  SICKENING
    MURDER -- EXCLUSIVE DETAILS INSIDE!, it reads.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY
    The office is old, with a single window which faces a billboard.
    TRAFFIC is HEARD from outside.  There are moving boxes on the
    floor.  Somerset is at his desk with paperwork in two sloppy
    piles.  He uses a manual typewriter, filling in a yellow form.
    He types hunt-and-peck, slowly.  He finishes the form and pulls
    it out.  There is a knock at the door.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Come in.
    The captain pushes the door and stands in the doorway with a
    PAINTER/WORKMAN at his side.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Excuse us.  We have some business to take
                  care of.
    As always, the neatly groomed captain clenches his jaw.
    Somerset lines a new form in the typewriter, starts typing.
    The captain strolls in.  Two boxes sit on the floor with
    DETECTIVE MILLS written across them.  He picks up one of the
    boxes and sets it on top of the other.
    At the open door, the workman takes a razor blade from his kit.
    He brings it against the writing on the glass of the door:
    DETECTIVE SOMERSET.  The workman pushes the razor to start
    scraping the name away, and the razor on glass sounds like
    fingernails on a blackboard.
    Somerset looks up.
                                 WORKMAN
                  Sorry.
    Somerset turns back to the typing, hunt-and-peck.  The captain
    watches.  The workman continues.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Have you heard?
                                 SOMERSET
                          (not looking up)
                  No, I haven't heard.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  There was a second.
    Somerset stops, looks at the captain.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Already.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Greed.  It was written in blood.
    Somerset thinks about this, then turns to type.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's none of my business anymore.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  I thought you might want to be filled in.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'm sure everyone's doing their best.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Yeah.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Good.
    Hunt-and-peck.  The captain's jowls clamp.  He steps up to
    Somerset's desk, begins to straighten the two piles of forms.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Come on.  What are you going to do with
                  yourself out there?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'll get a job, maybe on a farm.  I'll work
                  on the house.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Can't you feel it yet?  Can't you feel that
                  feeling... ?  You're not going to be a cop
                  anymore.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What are you talking about?
                                 CAPTAIN
                  You know.
    Somerset reclines, facing the captain.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Did you read in the paper today, about the
                  man who was walking his dog?  he was
                  attacked, and his wallet and his watch
                  were taken.  And then, while he was still
                  lying unconscious, his attacker stabbed him
                  with a knife in both eyes.  It happened
                  four blocks from here.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  I heard.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I have no understanding of this place
                  anymore.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  It's always been like this.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Really?
    Somerset saddles up to the typewriter.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Maybe you're right.
    The captain lays the paperwork down.  Both piles are now neat.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  You do this work.  You were made for it,
                  and I don't think you can deny that.  I
                  certainly can't believe you're trading it
                  in for a tool belt and a fishing rod.
                          (pause, walks to leave)
                  Maybe I'm wrong.
    The captain leaves.  Somerset looks up.  He grabs the paperwork
    piles and ruffles them back to their disheveled state.  He looks
    up at the workman.
    The workman is looking at Somerset, has a rag in his hand to
    remove the last remnants of Somerset's name.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (angrily)
                  Try putting a little elbow grease into it.
    The workman is startled, continues his work.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATE NIGHT
    There is a dart board on one wall.  THWACK -- Somerset's
    switchblade hits the board and embeds.
    Somerset crosses the nearly empty living room and takes the blade
    from the dart board.  He walks back to stand in front of the only
    chair in the room.  He throws the switchblade.
    It embeds in the dart board.  Somerset sits.
    He picks a book off the floor and holds it in his lap.  KIDS can
    be HEARD CURSING and playing LOUD MUSIC from outside the
    shuttered window.  Somerset stares at the ceiling.  He opens the
    book and looks at the pages... stares at the pages...
    He puts the book back down on the floor.
    EXT.  CITY STREET -- LATE NIGHT
    Somerset gets out of his car.  He walks down the sidewalk with a
    notebook in hand.  THUNDER is HEARD.  He takes a cigarette out of
    a full pack and lights it.
    He walks along the avenue.  Cars race by in the street.  People
    walk briskly past.  At a public phone, a man shouts curses
    angrily into the phone, then starts pounding the phone box with
    the receiver.  A fire engine passes in the street, sirens, horn
    and lights going full blast.
    Somerset starts up a flight of massive stone stairs, past several
    sleeping vagrants.  One VAGRANT sits up and looks to Somerset.
                                 VAGRANT
                  Spare me a cigarette?  Spare a cigarette?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Sorry, last one.
    Ahead of Somerset, the library looms, a solid, powerful
    structure.
    INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATE NIGHT
    Somerset and GEORGE, 62, the night guard, enter the vast space of
    the deserted main library.
    The lamps hanging from the ceiling give off a warm, pleasant glow
    over mahogany tables and chairs.  To each side of this center
    area are tall bookshelves.  Balconies surround the room on all
    four sides; three levels which overlook the center.
    Somerset is happy.  This is his element, this peaceful, elegant
    place.  George motions to the long, empty tables.
                                 GEORGE
                  Sit where you'd like.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Thanks, George.
                                 MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
                  Hey there, Smilely.
    Somerset looks up to the top balcony where TWO OTHER SECURITY
    GUARDS and one JANITOR look over the banister.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Evening, gentlemen.
    They all say their hellos.
                                 FIRST GUARD
                  Come on, George.  Cards are getting cold.
                                 GEORGE
                          (to Somerset)
                  Duty calls.
    George pumps Somerset's hand, then moves to a stairwell leading
    to the balconies.  Somerset walks down the main aisle, looks
    around at the shelves and shelves of books.
    George reaches the top balcony and the others sit at a card table
    where a poker game is in progress.
    Somerset puts his notebook down on one table and switches on a
    green banker's lamp.  THUNDER SOUNDS.  Somerset looks up.
    Rain is beginning to fall on the windows of the high ceiling.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (shouts up)
                  All these books, gentlemen... a world of
                  knowledge at your disposal, and you play
                  poker all night.
    UP ON THE BALCONY
    George has taken a huge BOOM-BOX from a broom closet.
                                 JANITOR
                  We got culture.
                                 SECOND GUARD
                          (dealing cards)
                  Yeah, we got culture coming out our asses.
    They laugh.  George sets the boom-box against the railing of the
    balcony so the speakers face towards Somerset.
    DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
    Somerset has gone into one bookshelf aisle.  Poker table
    conversation echoes from above.  Somerset searches books, reading
    spines.  He finds one book and pulls it, continues searching.
    UP ON THE BALCONY
    George hits play on the boom-box and turns the volume way up.
                                 GEORGE
                  How's this for culture?
    DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
    Somerset keeps looking for books.  From far away come the strains
    of MOZART MUSIC filling the air.  High, drifting music, such as
    AIR (On the G string.)  Somerset stops, listens.
    He closes his eyes and soaks it in.
    UP ON THE BALCONY
    George sits at the card table, takes out a cigar and lights up.
    He looks to the ground floor.
                                 GEORGE
                  Where'd you get to, Smilely?
    Below, Somerset comes out from the aisle.
    DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
    Somerset looks up at George.
                                 SOMERSET
                   Thank you.
    INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- LATER NIGHT
    MUSIC CONTINUES, spinning through the air like a slow, cool
    breeze.
    Somerset walks, surrounded by books, carrying several.  He pulls
    another off a shelf and adds it to his pile.
    UP ON THE BALCONY
    George lays down a winning hand.  The others toss in their cards
    in disgust.  George laughs, spouting cigar smoke.
    Cigar smoke floats up in the air, thinning gracefully.  Above,
    rain continues dancing on the ceiling windows.
    DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
    Somerset sits, opens a book on the table and reads.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM/LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
    MUSIC CONTINUES, uninterrupted over this scene.  Music so pretty
    it is almost sad.  Tracy, in a nightgown, sits up in bed, tense,
    She throws off the covers and goes to the door.
    She stands looking into the living room where Mills is at a desk.
    Mills sorts through paperwork and photos with his back to Tracy.
    A basketball game is on the television, but he pays it no mind.
    He sits forward, obviously frustrated, drinks coffee.  He does
    not know Tracy is there.
    Tracy watches her husband, concerned.
    INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY, MAIN LIBRARY -- NIGHT
    MUSIC CONTINUES.  Somerset has two books open.  He opens his
    notebook and brings a pen to bear.  Writes:
    SEVEN DEADLY SINS
    GLUTTONY     GREED     WRATH    LUST     PRIDE     ENVY    SLOTH
    He crosses out GLUTTONY and GREED.  Somerset picks up one book:
    DANTE'S PURGATORY.  Volume II of the DIVINE COMEDY.  Somerset
    opens it:
      -------------------------------------------------------------
     |                                     THE EARTHLY PARADISE    |
     |-------------------------------------------------------- /\  |
     |                                                        /  \ |
     |                               VII The Lustful         /____\|
     |                                                      /      |
     |                                VI The Gluttonous    /_______|
     |       7 TERRACES OF                                /        |
     |                                 V The Avaricious  /         |
     |                                   and Prodigal   /__________|
     |         PURGATION                               /           |
     |                                                /            |
     |                                               /             |
     |                             IV The Slothful  /______________|
     |                                             /               |
     |                                            /                |
     |                                           /                 |
     |                     III The Wrathful     /__________________|
     |                                         /                   |
     |                      II The Envious    /____________________|
     |                                       /                     |
     |                       I The Proud    /______________________|
     |                                     /                       |
     |                                    /                        |
     |                                   /       THE ISLAND        |
     |                                  /                          |
     |                                 /        OF PURGATORY       |
     |                                /                            |
     |_______________________________/_____________________________|


    UP ON THE BALCONY
    George and the guys finish another hand.  George looks down at
    Somerset, who is writing in the notebook.  George takes up the
    cards and starts shuffling.
                                 GEORGE
                          (down to Somerset)
                  You know, Smilely... you're really going to
                  miss us.
    George shuffles again, but they flip wrong and a few go off the
    table, over the balcony.
    DOWN ON THE MAIN FLOOR
    Somerset looks up at George, then looks around.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I just might.
    ABOVE
    The cards George dropped are fluttering, flipping downwards.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING
    The office is dark.  Somerset is at his desk, writing:
    DETECTIVE MILLS,  YOU MAY WANT TO LOOK AT THE FOLLOWING BOOKS,
    RELATING TO THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS:
    DANTE'S PURGATORY
    THE CANTERBURY TALES -- THE PARSON'S TALE
    DICTIONARY OF CATHOLICISM
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- LATER EVENING
    Somerset lays an envelope on top of the two boxes which have
    Detective Mills' name on them.  The envelope reads: MILLS.
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    WEDNESDAY
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- MORNING
    Somerset pushes the door open and notices "DETECTIVE MILLS"
    painted on the glass.  Rain falls outside.  Somerset goes to his
    desk, but stops.  All his belongings have been moved to a small,
    temporary desk in the corner.
    Somerset moves to open the top left drawer of the big desk.
    Empty.  He goes to the temporary desk and urgently searches
    through the boxes of papers and files...  finds what he was
    looking for.  He holds a small frame which fits in his palm.
    Inside the frame is a PHOTO of an attractive WOMAN.  Somerset
    pops the frame open, looks at the picture, then puts the picture
    in his wallet.
    Somerset sits at the temporary desk.  He begins to sort through
    his papers.  After a moment, he glances over his shoulder.  The
    envelope he left for Mills is gone.
    EXT.  UPSCALE CITY BLOCK -- MORNING
    It's raining.  At one high-rent office building, many business
    men and women are coming and going in a lunch-hour hurry.  Just
    to one side of the building, the CORONER'S WAGON drives out from
    the mouth of the parking garage into the rain.  People on the
    sidewalk have to stop to let it cross to the street.  At the same
    time, a large Lincoln Towncar turns off the street, heads into
    the bowels of the garage.
    EXT.  UPSCALE BUILDING, UNDERGROUND GARAGE -- MORNING
    Many police cars and news vans here, and police men and reporters
    and photographers everywhere.  Mills, looking haggard, finishes a
    conversation with a TALL COP by the service elevator.
                                 MILLS
                  ... good.  Do it.  I'm going back up.
    Tall Cop hurries away as Mills pushes repeatedly on the service
    elevator button.  The elevator doors open and Mills steps in.  As
    the door are shutting, a COMMOTION is HEARD.  Mills stops the
    door and looks out.
    Across the garage, the Towncar is pulling to a stop and reporters
    are rushing to it.  FLASHBULBS are FLASHING.
    MARTIN TALBOT, 47, impressive and well dressed, steps out of the
    car and faces the reporters as they start shouting questions.
    In the service elevator, Mills lets the doors slide shut.
    INT.  UPSCALE BUILDING, SERVICE AREA -- MORNING
    The service elevator opens to a dark physical plant room.  Mills
    exits the elevator and crosses past humming air-conditioning
    vents, dripping pipes and janitor's lockers.  To a door...
    INT.  UPSCALE BUILDING, OFFICE CORRIDOR -- MORNING
    Mills comes out the service area door into a bright, ritzy
    hallway.  This hall and the doors along it reek of money.  A few
    cops are standing around.  Ahead there's a police line, which
    Mills ducks under on his way to stately mahogany doors.
    INT.  LAW OFFICE -- MORNING
    A huge law office.  A television is on in one corner, showing the
    news.  Windows overlook the rain wet city.  Two FORENSICS dust
    for prints, whispering to each other when Mills enters.
                                 FORENSIC ONE
                          (to other forensic)
                  ... going to screw it up.  I swear... I've
                  seen...
    The other forensic clears his throat, getting back to work.
    Forensic One shuts up.  Mills notices this, weary.
                                 MILLS
                  How's it coming?
                                 FORENSIC ONE
                  Nothing yet.
    Mills watches them a moment, then turns his attention to another
    part of the office.  A leather chair sits in an open area.
    The chair and the carpet under it are covered in a goodly portion
    of brown, dried blood.
    There is a trail of dripped blood from the chair to a large desk.
    On a cleared off section of the desk, a two-armed, counter
    balance SCALE sits, also blood stained.  The desk has been
    dusted.  Behind the desk, GREED is written on the wall in blood,
    near a modern art painting.
    Mills stands staring at this area.  The TELEVISION is HEARD:
                                 ANCHOR (v.o.)
                          (from television)
                  ... going cut in live downtown right now,
                  where Defense Attorney Eli Gould was found
                  murdered in his office late last night.
                  District Attorney Martin Talbot is taking
                  questions from reporters...
    ON T.V., Talbot comes on screen, a powerful presence, with a gold
    tooth in the front of his mouth.  It's from down in the garage.
                                 A REPORTER (v.o.)
                          (from television)
                  ... a small conflict of interest here?  I
                  mean, your prosecutors have lost more than
                  a few very high profile cases to Mister
                  Gould and his defense team...
                                 TALBOT (v.o.)
                          (from television)
                  Now, that's ridiculous to the point of
                  almost being offensive.  There's no
                  conflict of interest whatsoever, and any
                  claim that there would be, or could be, is
                  irresponsible.
    Other reporters begin to shout questions, but Talbot's not done.
                                 TALBOT (v.o.)
                  Now, hold on... I want to address that.
                  I've just come from a meeting with law
                  enforcement officials, and they've assured
                  me they put their best people on this
                  thing.
    Mills turns to looks at Talbot on the screen.
                                 TALBOT (v.o.)
                  You just wait and see how quickly we get a
                  handle on it.  This will be the very
                  definition of swift justice.
    Mills walks to turn the t.v. off.
                                 MILLS
                          (quietly to t.v.)
                  Shut the fuck up.
    He turns and looks to see the forensics looking at him.  The
    forensics look away.
    Mills walks away from the t.v., to a picture frame on the floor.
    The frame has been placed specifically in the center of the room,
    facing the doors.
    It is a photo if a falsely pretty, middle-aged woman, smiling and
    wearing pearls.  On the glass of the frame, two circles have been
    drawn with blood around the woman's eyes.
    Mills sits on the floor, stares at the photo.
    INT.  MILLS' CAR -- MORNING
    Mills gets in and slams the door.  He is alone with the sound of
    the rain.  He wipes water from his face and looks at his tired
    eyes in the rear view mirror.  He leans over to the glove
    compartment and takes out two newly purchased paperbacks: The
    Canterbury Tales and Dante's Purgatory.
    Mills makes a face and opens Dante's Purgatory to a bookmark.  He
    rests the book on the steering wheel.  He reads.
    He bites his lip, leaning close to the words.
    He is really concentrating, mouths some of the words to himself.
    He finally shakes his head and closes the book, not understanding
    a word of it.  Pause.  He starts pounding the book against the
    steering wheel with all his might.
                                 MILLS
                  Fucking, Dante, goddamn, poetry-writing,
                  faggot motherfucker...
    Mills throws the book against the windshield, then puts his head
    back and closes his eyes, trying to calm.  A long moment.  Quiet.
    BANG, BANG, BANG -- there's a loud BANGING on the window and
    Mills looks up, startled...
    Tall Cop is at the window in rain gear.  Mills rolls it down.
    Tall Cop hands a wet paper bag through.
                                 MILLS
                  Good work, Officer.  Good work.
    Mills rolls the window up, rips the bag open.  Inside: Cliff
    Notes for Dante's Purgatory and for The Canterbury Tales.
                                 MILLS
                  Thank God.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY
    It still rains outside.  Somerset sits at the big desk which is
    now Mills'.  He fills out form by hand as Mills enters with a ton
    of his own paperwork.  Somerset looks up.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (gathers his things)
                  Let me get out of your way.
    Mills sets his paperwork on the desk.  He is beat.  Somerset
    moves to the temporary desk.  They both sit and settle in,
    organizing, not looking at each other.
    Both attend to their work.  Here are two men, about five feet
    apart, each trying not to acknowledge the other's presence.
    Mills takes his Cliff Notes out, looks to see Somerset is
    occupied, and hides them in a desk drawer.
    Somerset finishes one form, flips it and looks at Mills.  Mills
    sorts through photos from the greed murder.  Somerset continues
    writing.  PHONE RINGS.  Both men look at it.  Phone rings again.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's a package deal.  You get the phone
                  with the office.
                                 MILLS
                          (picks up, into phone)
                  Detective Mills here.
                          (listens, lowers voice)
                  Honey... I asked you not to call me here.
                  I'll call you back...
                          (listens)
                  What?  Why?
    Mills is very confused.
                                 MILLS
                          (into phone)
                  Why?  Okay... okay, hold on.
    Mills clears his throat and holds out the phone to Somerset.
                                 MILLS
                  It's my wife.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What?
    Mills shrugs.  Somerset stands, takes the phone.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (into phone)
                  Hello?
                          (listens)
                  Yes, well... it's nice to speak to you.
                          (listens)
                  Well, I appreciate the thought... but...
                          (listens)
                  Then, I guess I'd be delighted.  Thank you
                  very much.  Yes... goodbye.
    Somerset hangs up, shakes his head.
                                 MILLS
                  Well?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'm invited to have a late supper at your
                  house.  And, I accept.
                                 MILLS
                  How's that?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Tonight.
    Mills is lost.  Somerset goes to sit back down.
                                 MILLS
                  I don't even know if I'm having dinner
                  there tonight.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM/KITCHENETTE -- NIGHT
    Food is cooking on the stove.  Tracy is in the living room area
    carefully setting the table with good silver and china.
    The door to the apartment is HEARD OPENING and CLOSING.  Mills
    and Somerset come down a short hallway.  Mills carries a brand
    new briefcase.
                                 TRACY
                  Hello, men.  You made it.
                                 MILLS
                  Hi, honey.
    Mills gives Tracy a kiss, then presents Somerset.
                                 MILLS
                  I'd like you to meet Somerset.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Hello.
    Somerset shakes Tracy's hand lightly.
                                 TRACY
                  It's nice to meet you.  My husband has told
                  me a lot about you... except your first
                  name.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Oh... um, William.
                                 TRACY
                  It's a nice name.  William, I'd like you to
                  meet David.
                          (to Mills)
                  David... William.
    Mills smiles and nods this off, heading across the room.
                                 MILLS
                  Great... I'm, uh, just going to put these
                  things away.
    Mills moves to the adjoining bedroom.  Somerset stands with his
    hands folded in front of him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It smells good.
                                 TRACY
                  What?  Oh, yes.  I mean, thank you.
                          (motions to the table)
                  Please, sit down.
    Somerset takes off his jacket.  Tracy goes to check on the food.
                                 TRACY
                  You can put that over on the couch.  You'll
                  have to excuse all the mess.  We're still
                  unpacking.
    Somerset notices something on Mills' desk.  It's a medal, in a
    small, clear case amongst the papers and pens.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I hear you and Mills were high school
                  sweethearts.
                                 TRACY
                  High school and college, yes.  Pretty
                  hokey, huh?  I knew on our first date this
                  was the man I was going to marry.  God...
                  he was the funniest man I'd ever met.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Really?
    Somerset has to think about that one for a second.  He picks the
    medal up: a medal for valor from the Police Department.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Well, it's rare these days... that kind of
                  commitment.
    He puts the medal down.  Tracy is looking at the gun strapped
    under Somerset's arm as Somerset starts to unstrap it.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (about the gun)
                  Don't worry.  I don't wear it at the dinner
                  table.
                                 TRACY
                  No matter how often I see guns, I still
                  can't get used to them.
    Somerset lays the gun with his jacket.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Same here.
    Tracy smiles.  Somerset goes to the table and transfers a small
    notebook from his breast pocket to his pants pocket.  A piece of
    paper falls to the floor, closer to Tracy.
                                 TRACY
                  Anyway... what girl wouldn't want the
                  captain of the football team as their
                  lifetime mate?  Here... you dropped
                  something...
    Tracy picks it up.  It is the pale, paper rose.  She looks at it
    as she hands it back to Somerset, who is self-conscious.
                                 TRACY
                  What is that?
    Somerset looks at the rose, then puts it away.
                                 SOMERSET
                  My future.
    Tracy tilts her head, looking at Somerset.
                                 TRACY
                  You have a strange way about you... I mean
                  interesting.  I'm sorry.  It's really none
                  of my business.  It's just nice to meet a
                  man who talks like that.
                          (goes back to stove)
                  If David saw that paper, he'd say you're a
                  fag.  That's how he is.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (smiles)
                  I guess I won't be showing it to him then.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT
    A record player on a moving box PLAYS QUIET MUSIC.  Tracy, Mills
    and Somerset are eating.  Mills has a beeper beside his plate and
    occasionally fingers it absently.
                                 TRACY
                  Why aren't you married, William?
                                 MILLS
                  Tracy... what the hell?
    Somerset pokes at the napkin, thinking.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I was close once.  It just didn't happen.
                                 TRACY
                  It surprises me.  It really does.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Any person who spends a significant amount
                  of time with me finds me... disagreeable.
                  Just ask your husband.
                                 MILLS
                  Very true.
    Mills grins, but he means it.
                                 TRACY
                          (to Somerset)
                  How long have you lived here?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Too long.
                          (drinks)
                  What do you think so far?
    Tracy glances immediately to Mills.
                                 MILLS
                  It takes time to settle in.
    Somerset can see it is a sore subject.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Well, you can get numb to it pretty quickly.
                  There are things in any city...
    A LOW RUMBLING is HEARD.  Plates on the table begin to clatter.
                                 MILLS
                  Subway train.
    The dishes clatter more.  Coffee cups clink against their
    saucers.  Tracy holds her coffee cup to stop it and smiles at
    Somerset to act like it's nothing, but she is clearly bothered.
                                 TRACY
                  It'll go away in a minute.
    They wait.  The rumbling grows louder, knocks something over in
    the sink.  Somerset continues eating, fiddles with his food.  The
    record player skips, then plays on.  The clattering dies down.
    Mills seems uncomfortable.
                                 MILLS
                  This real estate guy... this miserable
                  fuck, he brought us to see this place a few
                  times.  And, first I'm thinking he's good,
                  really efficient.  But then, I started
                  wondering, why does he keep hurrying us
                  along?  Why will he only show us this place
                  for like five minutes at a time?
    Mills laughs lamely.
                                 TRACY
                  We found out the first night.
    Somerset tries to stay straight, but he can't help laughing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  The soothing, relaxing, vibrating home.
                  Sorry...
    He laughs harder, covering his mouth.  Tracy and Mills laugh.
                                 MILLS
                  Oh, fuck.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT
    The record player plays another album.  Tracy brings over a pot
    of coffee and pours.  Mills and Somerset have beers.
                                 TRACY
                  I don't think I've ever met anyone who
                  doesn't have a television before.
                  That's... weird.
                                 MILLS
                  It's un-American is what it is.
                                 SOMERSET
                  All television does is teach children that
                  it's really cool to be stupid and eat candy
                  bars all day.
                                 MILLS
                  What about sports?
                                 SOMERSET
                  What about them?
    Tracy brings over a plate of cookies and puts it on the table.
                                 MILLS
                  You go to movies at least?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I read.  Remember reading?
                                 MILLS
                  I just have to say, I can't respect any man
                  who's never seen "Green Acres."
    Somerset gives a blank stare.  Tracy walks across the room.
                                 MILLS
                  You've never seen "The Odd Couple?"  This
                  is sick.  "The Honeymooners?!"
                                 SOMERSET
                  I vaguely recall a large, angry man, and
                  someone called Norton.
    Tracy turns the record player down further, then goes into the
    bedroom and shuts the door behind her.
    Somerset and Mills look a the closed door.  A long moment.  They
    look at each other, then sit for a time.  Somerset puts down his
    beer, sighs.  He looks around.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM
    The only sounds are from the city outside.  The living room table
    has been cleared and its surface is now covered with various
    forms, reports and 8" by 10" photographs.  Mills and Somerset are
    both standing.  Mills guides Somerset through the photos.
                                 MILLS
                  Our guy got into office, probably before
                  the building closed and security tightened
                  up.  Gould must have been working late.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'm certain.  He was the biggest defense
                  lawyer around.  Infamous, actually.
                                 MILLS
                  Well, his body was found Monday night,
                  okay?  But, get this... the office was
                  closed all day Monday.  Which means, as
                  long as the gluttony killing was done
                  before the weekend, our killer could've
                  gotten in here on Friday.  He could've
                  spent all day Saturday with Gould, and all
                  day Sunday.
    Mills picks up one photo and shows it to Somerset.  Long shot: it
    shows the greed murder scene.  Gould sits dead in the leather
    chair, near the desk where the counter-balance scale sits.
                                 MILLS
                  Gould was tied down, nude.  The killer left
                  his arms free and handed him a big, sharp
                  butcher's knife.  See... the scale here.
    Mills pulls another photo.  Close up: the two-armed scale.  In
    one suspended plate is a one pound weight.  In the other is a
    hunk of flesh.
                                 SOMERSET
                  A pound of flesh.
    Mills digs, comes up with a photocopy of a hand-scrawled note.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (reading note)
                  "One pound of flesh, no more no less.  No
                  cartilage, no bone, but only flesh.  This
                  task done... and he would go free."
    Mills takes out one photo showing the note pinned to the wall
    beside where "greed" is written in blood.
                                 MILLS
                  The leather chair was soaked through with
                  sweat.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (nods, grim)
                  All day Saturday, and all day Sunday.
                          (pause)
                  The murderer would want Gould to take his
                  time.  To have to sit there and decide.
                  Where do you make the first cut?  There's a
                  gun in your face... but, what part of your
                  body is expendable?
                                 MILLS
                  He cut along the side of his stomach.  The
                  love handle.
    Somerset's still studying the photos.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He must have left another puzzle piece.
                                 MILLS
                  Look, I appreciate being able to talk this
                  out, but, uh...
                                 SOMERSET
                  This is just to satisfy my curiosity.  I'm
                  still leaving town Saturday.
    Mills is very tired.  He rubs his eyes, then walks to take one
    more photo from his briefcase.  It is the photo of the framed
    picture of the falsely pretty woman with her eyes circled in
    blood.
                                 MILLS
                  Gould's wife.  She was away on business.
                  If this means she saw anything, I don't
                  know what.  We've questioned her at least
                  five times.
                                 SOMERSET
                  And, if it's a threat.
                                 MILLS
                  We put her in a safe house.
    Somerset nods.  He puts down the photos he's holding.  He begins
    spreading all the pictures out.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Look at these with fresh eyes.  Don't see
                  what the killer wants you to.  Don't let
                  guide you...
    While he speaks, Somerset keeps shifting the photos, for example:
    covering the corpse in one with the edge of another.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Even if the corpse is right there... it's
                  almost like looking through it.  Editing
                  out the initial shock.  Look at the room.
    In the photos, there's the scale.  The note on the wall.  Shelves
    of books.  The Modern Art painting.
    GREED written in blood.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He's preaching.
                                 MILLS
                  Punishing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  The sins were used in medieval sermons.
                  There were seven cardinal virtues, and then
                  seven deadly sins, created as a learning
                  tool, because they distract from true
                  worship.
                                 MILLS
                  Like in the Parson's Tale, and Dante.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Did you read them?
                                 MILLS
                  Yeah.  Parts of them.  Anyway, in
                  Purgatory, Dante and his buddy are climbing
                  up that big mountain... seeing all these
                  other guys who sinned...
                                 SOMERSET
                  Seven Terraces of Purgation.
                                 MILLS
                  Right.  But there, pride comes first, not
                  gluttony.  The sins are in a different
                  order.
                                 SOMERSET
                  For now, let's just consider the books as the
                  murderer's inspiration.
                  The books and sermons are about atonement
                  for sin.  And, these murders have been like
                  forced attrition.
                                 MILLS
                  Forced what?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Attrition.  When you regret your sins, but
                  not because you love God.
                                 MILLS
                  Like, because someone's holding a gun on
                  you.
    Mills runs his hands across his face, walks to the fridge to get
    beer.  Somerset keeps looking at photos and papers.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No fingerprints?
                                 MILLS
                  Nothing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Totally unrelated victims.
    Mills nods, drinking from a beer.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No witnesses of any kind?
                                 MILLS
                  None.  Which I don't understand.  He had to
                  get back out.
    Somerset sits in a chair, picks up the photo of the wife.  Runs
    his fingers over the eyes circled in blood.
                                 SOMERSET
                  In any major city, minding your own
                  business is a perfected science.  There's a
                  public crime prevention course offered at
                  the precinct house once a month.  The first
                  thing they teach is that you should never
                  cry "help."  Always scream "fire," because
                  people don't want to get caught up in
                  anything.  But a fire... that's an
                  evening's entertainment.  They come
                  running.
    Looking at the wife's photo.
                                 SOMERSET
                  This is the one thing.
                                 MILLS
                  I know.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (holds photo up)
                  What if it's not that she's seen
                  something?  What if she's supposed to see
                  something, but she just hasn't been given a
                  chance to see it yet?
                                 MILLS
                  Okay.  But, what?
    INT.  SAFE HOUSE -- NIGHT
    The room is like a hotel room.  Mills stands beside the woman
    from the picture, MRS. GOULD.  Mills shows her photos from the
    murder scene.  The photos have been covered in sections to hide
    the Mr. Gould's corpse.  Mrs. Gould is crying.  Somerset is on
    the other side of the room, holding more photos.
                                 MILLS
                  I'm sorry about this, Mrs. Gould.  I really
                  am.
                                 MRS GOULD
                  I... I don't understand.
    Mills helps her flip through the photos.  He isn't too keen to
    put her through this.
                                 MILLS
                  I need you to look at each one carefully...
                  very carefully.  Look for anything that
                  seems strange or out of place.  Anything at
                  all.
                                 MRS GOULD
                  I don't know why... why now?
                                 MILLS
                  Please, I need you to help me if we're
                  going to get who did this.
    Mrs. Gould sobs quietly, wipes her tears.
                                 MILLS
                  Anything... anything missing or different.
                                 MRS GOULD
                  I don't see anything.
                                 MILLS
                  Are you absolutely certain?
                                 MRS GOULD
                  I can't do this now... please.
    Mills looks to Somerset, looks at the photos Somerset holds.
                                 MILLS
                  Maybe we better wait.
    Somerset looks at the photos in his hand.  These show Mr. Gould's
    corpse in the chair, not covered in any way.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It should be now.  There may be something
                  we're not seeing.
                                 MRS GOULD
                  Wait.  Here...
                                 MILLS
                  What is it?
    Mrs. Gould points at the modern art painting on the wall in one
    photo.  The painting is just splattered paint, abstract.
                                 MRS GOULD
                  This painting...
                                 MILLS
                  What?
                                 MRS GOULD
                  Why is this painting hanging upside-down?
    Mills turns to look at Somerset.
    INT.  LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT
    Where the greed murder took place.  Somerset, wearing gloves,
    reaches to take the modern art painting off the wall.  Mills
    near, watching.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You're sure your men didn't move this?
                                 MILLS
                  Even if they did, those photos were taken
                  before forensics.
    Nothing on the wall behind the painting.  Blank space.
                                 MILLS
                  Nothing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's got to be.
    Somerset puts the painting down, resting it on its bottom edge.
    The painting is backed by a thick sheet of brown papers stapled
    into the wooden frame.  Somerset points to where the wire's eye
    screws used to be screwed into the frame, and to where it has
    been rescrewed.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He changed the wire to rehang it.
    Somerset takes out his switchblade.  Mills is surprised.
                                 MILLS
                  What the fuck is that?
                                 SOMERSET
                  A switchblade.
    Somerset cuts along the edge of the brown paper to get to the
    hollow space between it and the back of the canvas.  He cuts out
    the entire sheet.  Mills helps pull it away.  Nothing.  Empty.
    Mills looks at both sides of the paper, then tosses it away.
                                 MILLS
                  Nothing.  Damn it!
    Somerset lays the painting face up on the floor.  He pokes his
    finger on the painted surface.  He brings the flat of his blade
    against the painting, tries to peel some of the paint.
                                 MILLS
                  The killer didn't paint the fucking thing.
                  Give it up.
    Somerset pushes the painting away, frustrated.
                                 SOMERSET
                  There must be something.
                                 MILLS
                  We're screwed.  He's fucking with us.
    Somerset backs away from the wall, staring at the space where the
    painting hung.  There is only a nail.  He turns, looking around
    the office, then crosses.
    Mills puts his hands to his temple, furious, picks up a lamp and
    throws it to the floor, venting.
                                 MILLS
                  Motherfucker!
    Across the room, Somerset falls to his knees and pulls open a
    forensics kit.  He takes out a fingerprint brush, examining the
    bristles.  Mills sees this.
                                 MILLS
                  What?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Bear with me.
    Somerset goes back to the wall where the painting was.  He pulls
    over a chair, gets on it and starts brushing near the nail.
                                 MILLS
                  Oh, yeah, sure.  You got to be kidding?!
                                 SOMERSET
                  Just wait!
    Somerset brushes with a few wider strokes.  He leans close,
    studies the powder residue.  Leans closer still.  Pause.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Call the print lab.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT
    Tracy is asleep, dressed, with the lights still on.  She stirs,
    then awakens and sits up slowly.  She squints from the light,
    sweaty and uncomfortable.  She looks around and listens.  All she
    hears is traffic.
    EXT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- NIGHT
    FROM OUTSIDE, looking into the apartment, we see Tracy come in
    from the bedroom.  She sees Mills and Somerset are gone.  She
    comes to open a window, then goes to the kitchen area.
    We're still LOOKING IN at her as she starts the dishes in the
    sink.  The RUMBLING of the SUBWAY TRAIN is HEARD starting.  The
    room begins to rattle, as before.
    Tracy looks out into the living room, ill at ease.
    INT.  LAW OFFICE -- NIGHT
    The male forensic from the gluttony murder scene is here.  He has
    a magnifying glass which he's using to study a very clear
    fingerprint in black powder on the wall.
                                 MALE FORENSIC
                  Oh, man...
                                 MILLS (o.s.)
                  Talk to me.
    The male forensic bites his lip, still studying.
    Mills and Somerset are watching the forensic who works O.S.
                                 MILLS
                          (to Somerset)
                  Just, honestly... have you ever seen
                  anything like this... been involved in
                  anything like this?
                                 SOMERSET
                  No.
                                 MALE FORENSIC (o.s.)
                  Well, I can tell you, boys...
    The forensic steps down from a stool.  Behind him, where the
    painting once was, are fingerprints, clear and distinct.  The
    prints have been left, one after the other, to form letters which
    form words:  HELP ME.
                                 MALE FORENSIC
                  ... just by looking at the shape of the
                  underloop on these, they are not the
                  victim's fingerprints.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, PRINT LAB -- NIGHT
    Dark.  A TECHNICIAN sits before an old computer.  The computer's
    green screen shows enlarged fingerprint patterns being aligned,
    compares, and then rejected: whir - click - whir - click - whir -
    click.  Mills and Somerset watch, bathed in a green glow.
                                 MILLS
                  He just may be nuts enough.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It doesn't fit.  He doesn't want us to help
                  him stop.
                                 MILLS
                  Who the hell knows?  There's plenty of
                  freaks out there doing dirty deeds they
                  don't want to do.  You know... little
                  voices tell them bad things.
    Somerset doesn't buy it.  The technician adjusts a knob, then
    turns to the detectives.
                                 TECHNICIAN
                  I've seen this baby take as long as three
                  days to make a match, so you guys can go
                  cross your fingers somewhere else.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- NIGHT
    Somerset and Mills come out from the Print Lab.  A janitor is
    mopping the hall.  The computer is HEARD WHIRing AND CLICKing
    onwards.  Somerset sits with a groan on a couch outside the lab
    door.  Mills flops beside him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You meant what you said to Mrs. Gould,
                  didn't you?  About catching this guy.  You
                  really want to believe that, don't you?
                                 MILLS
                  And you don't?
                                 SOMERSET
                          (laughs, very tired)
                  I wish I still thought like you.
                                 MILLS
                  Then, you tell me what you think we're
                  doing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  All we do is pick up the pieces.  We take
                  all the evidence, and all the pictures and
                  samples.  We write everything down and note
                  what time things happened...
                                 MILLS
                  Oh, that's all.
                                 SOMERSET
                  We put it in a nice neat pile and file it
                  away, on the slim chance it's ever needed
                  in a courtroom.
                          (pause)
                  It's like collecting diamonds on a desert
                  island.  You keep them just in case you
                  ever get rescued, but it's a pretty big
                  ocean out there.
                                 MILLS
                  Bullshit.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'm, sorry, but even the most promising
                  clues usually lead only to other clues.
                  I've seen so many corpses rolled away...
                  unrevenged.
                                 MILLS
                  I've seen the same.  I'm not the country
                  hick you seem to think I am.
                                 SOMERSET
                  In this city, if all the skeletons came out
                  of all the closets... if ever hidden body
                  were to suddenly rise again, there'd be no
                  more room for the living.
    Somerset slumps back, takes out a cigarette and lights it.
                                 MILLS
                  Don't tell me you didn't get that rush
                  tonight... that adrenalin, like we were
                  getting somewhere.
    Mills sits back on the couch, closes his eyes.
                                 MILLS
                  And, don't try to tell me it was because
                  you found something that would play well in
                  a courtroom.
    Somerset looks at Mills, who crosses his arms to sleep.  Somerset
    puffs the cigarette.
    The computer is heard: whir - click - whir - click...
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    THURSDAY
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, HALLWAY -- EARLY MORNING
    Mills and Somerset are fast asleep on the couch, leaning against
    each other.  People pass and look at them strangely.  A man steps
    in front of the couch.  He reaches with both hands to slap their
    faces simultaneously.
    It's the captain leaning over them.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Wake up, Glimmer Twins.  We have a winner.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, READY ROOM -- EARLY MORNING
    A windowless classroom.  The captain stands at a podium in front
    with a white screen at his side.  A mug-shot of a man, VICTOR,
    25, is projected onto the screen from a slide projector.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  He goes by the name Victor, as many of you
                  know, and his prints were found on scene by
                  Detectives Mills and Somerset.
    FIVE hardened POLICE OFFICERS, four men and one woman, sit in
    chairs facing the captain.  The all wear bullet-proof vests with
    the word POLICE spray-painted across them.
    Somerset and Mills sit in back, drinking coffee, still asleep.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Now, this guy's a real beauty.  He has a
                  long, long history of serious mental
                  illness.  According the head-shrinkers, it
                  seems his parents gave him a very strict,
                  Southern Baptist upbringing, but somewhere
                  along the line he dropped his marbles.
    Two of the cops in the front row are talking.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Hey, you two can shut-up now!
    The two cops separate like huge, embarassed school children.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Thank you, fuckheads.  Now, Victor spent a
                  couple of months in prison for the
                  attempted rape of an eight year old boy,
                  but his lawyer made sure he didn't stay
                  long.  Before that, he dabbled in drugs,
                  armed robbery and assault.
                  We've been doing our best to keep an eye on
                  him, but he's been out of circulation for a
                  while.
                                 FEMALE COP
                  If he disappeared, what do you want from
                  us?
                                 CAPTAIN
                  His last place of residence is still in his
                  name.  A search warrant is being pushed
                  through the courts as we speak.
    A red-headed cop, CALIFORNIA, raises his hand.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  So, have the housing cops walk up and ring
                  the doorbell.
    The cops laugh.  The captain is clenching his jaw, angry.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Listen, California.  When you go in, if
                  Victor isn't home, one of his buddies might
                  be house-sitting, so you go in guns first.
                  Besides using, Victor deals, and we know
                  what kind of crowd he runs with.
    There is some chatter amongst the cops.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  This is what the D.A. has a hard-on for
                  right now, Ladies and Germs, so we do not
                  question why.
    Mills leans to Somerset while the captain continues the briefing.
    They whisper.
                                 MILLS
                  Does this make it with you?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Doesn't seem like our man, does it?
                                 MILLS
                  You tell me.  I'm new in town.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He doesn't have the desire somehow.  Our
                  killer seems to have more purpose.  More
                  purpose than Victor could ever conceive of.
                                 MILLS
                  The fingerprints.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Yes.  They were there... so, it must be.
                                 MILLS
                  We'll tag along.
    Somerset wants no part of that.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Why would we?
                                 MILLS
                          (smiles)
                  Satisfy our curiosity?
    INT.  MILLS' CAR -- MORNING
    Mills drives, follows a police van.  Somerset rides shotgun.
    Mills seems pumped and ready.  Somerset takes two Rolaids off a
    fresh roll and chews them.
                                 MILLS
                  You ever take one?
    Somerset takes out his gun, opens it to check the load.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Never in my twenty-four years, knock on
                  wood.  I've only ever taken my gun out five
                  times with the actual intention of using
                  it.  Never fired it though.  Not once.
                          (closes his gun)
                  You?
                                 MILLS
                  Never took a bullet.  I pulled my gun once.
                  fired it once.
                                 SOMERSET
                  And?
                                 MILLS
                  It was my first one of these.  We were a
                  secondary unit, and I was pretty shaky
                  going in.  I was still considered a rookie.
    Mills takes a corner, tires screeching.
                                 MILLS
                  We busted the door, looking for this
                  junkie, right?  The geek just opened fire.
                  Another cop was hit in the arm and he went
                  flying... like in slow motion.
                          (pause)
                  I remember riding in the ambulance.  His
                  arm was like Jello.  A piece of meat.  He
                  bled to death right there.
    A pause.
                                 SOMERSET
                  How did the fire fight end?
                                 MILLS
                  I got him.  I got the son-of-a-bitch.
                  See, I was doing really good up till then.
                  Lots of street busts.  I've always had this
                  weird luck... everything always went my
                  way, but this was wild.
                          (pause)
                  I got him with one shot... right between
                  the eyes.  Next thing I know, the mayor's
                  pinning a medal on me.  Picture in the
                  paper, whole nine yards.
    Somerset unrolls the window, feels the air across his face.
                                 SOMERSET
                  How was it?
                                 MILLS
                  I expected it to be bad, you know.  I took
                  a human life... but I slept like a baby
                  that night.  I never gave it a second
                  thought.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I think Hemingway wrote somewhere... I
                  can't remember where, but he wrote that in
                  order to live in a place like this, you
                  have to have the ability to kill.  I think
                  he meant you truly must be able to do it,
                  not just faking it, too survive.
                                 MILLS
                  Sounds like he knew what he was talking
                  about.
    INT.  SLUM BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- MORNING
    The five cops from the briefing, fully geared up and ready,
    rifles and handguns out, move quickly up the stairs in single
    file.  Somerset and Mills follow, guns out.  Somerset is sweating
    bullets.  Mills is wild eyed, juiced.
    Crack viles and hypodermic needles on the stairs crunch under the
    cops' heavy boots.
    INT.  SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING
    The cops enter the dank hall.  The move cautiously.  A man is
    lying on the floor, looking up, helpless, with dead eyes.
    A door opens and a woman peeks out.  The female cop points her
    gun and the door slams.  California, leading the group, steps up
    to apartment 303.  He has a search warrant scotch-taped to the
    front of his bullet-proof vest.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                          (to black cop)
                  This is it.  Give it up.
    The black cop hoists a heavy battering ram to California.  The
    other cops get on both sides of the door.  Somerset and Mills
    hang back a few feet, watching their backs.
                                 BLACK COP
                          (points to Mills)
                  Cops go before Dicks.
    Many people are sticking their heads out of doors in the hall.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Police!  Open the door!!
    California brings the ram forward with a splintering THUD -- once
    -- twice -- the door flies open.  The cops storm in.
    INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING
    The apartment is incredibly dusty.  The cops charge down the
    short hall into this room where a bed sits against the far wall.
    California moves up to the bed.  Someone lies under the sheets.
    Three other cops move, all training their weapon on the bed.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Good morning, sweetheart!
    A blond cop goes into another room.  California moves closer to
    the bed, gun up.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Get up, now, motherfucker!  NOW!
    INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, ADJOINING ROOM -- MORNING
    The blond cop enters, gun trained, looks around in confusion.
    The room's tables, chairs and floor are covered with hundreds of
    colorful, plastic air fresheners.
    INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING
    Mills and Somerset enter.  Somerset looks at the cops around the
    bed, then looks at a nearby wall.  His mouth drops in horror.  On
    the wall, written in excrement: SLOTH.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Jesus...
    California kicks the bed, enraged.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  I said get up, Sleepyhead!
    He pulls the sheets off the bed and reveals the shriveled,
    sore-covered form of a man who is blindfolded and tied to the bed
    with a thin wire which has been wrapped time and time again
    around the mattress and bed frame.  Tubes runs out from a stained
    loincloth around the man's waist and snake under the bed.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Fuck me!
    Mills pushes past the other cops.
                                 MILLS
                  Holy shit.
    The cops recoil from the stench.  Somerset steps up, putting his
    gun away.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Victor?
                                 BLACK COP
                  What the hell... ?
                                 CALIFORNIA
                          (to Somerset)
                  Check this out, Dick...
    California points with his gun to the end of the man's right arm.
    The hand is gone, severed at the wrist long ago.
                                 MILLS
                  It is Victor.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (points to a cop)
                  Call an ambulance.
    The blond cop enters from the other room.
                                 BLOND COP
                  What the fuck is this?
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Somebody call a hearse, more like.
    The female cop has gone to one wall where a sheet is pinned up.
    She pulls the sheet down.  Pinned behind the sheet are fifty-two
    Polaroid pictures; all pictures of Victor tied to the bed, with a
    date written at the bottom of each picture.  It is a visual
    history of Victor's physical decay.
                                 BLOND COP
                  What is going on?
    Mills sees the female cop looking at the pictures.
                                 MILLS
                  Hey, California, get your people out.
    Somerset takes out rubber gloves and puts them on.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  You heard him.  Hit the hall, and don't
                  touch anything.
    Somerset replaces the sheet over Victor, but not over his head.
    The cops file out and Mills goes to examine the pictures.
    California stays by the bed with Somerset.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  It looks like he's some kind of friggin'
                  sculpture or something.
    Somerset places his finger along Victor's throat.
                                 MILLS
                  Somerset, you... you better look here.
    Mills looks at the photos in awe.  Somerset joins him.
                                 MILLS
                  All pictures of Victor tied to the bed.
                          (crouches, points)
                  The last one is dated three days ago.
    Somerset looks at the first photo.  In it, Victor is bound and
    gagged, but he is healthy.
                                 SOMERSET
                  The first one... it's dated one year ago.
                  To the day.
    Somerset wipes his pale face.
    Californian stands by the corpse, behind Somerset and Mills.  He
    lifts the sheet on the bed to look under it.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Mother...
    Mills kneels and lifts the sheet which had covered the pictures
    off the floor.  There is an open shoebox underneath.
                                 MILLS
                  What...?
    On the side of the box: TO THE DETECTIVES, FROM ME.
    California leans close to Victor's gaunt, blindfolded face,
    examining with morbid curiosity.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  You got what you deserved, Victor.
    Somerset leans down beside Mills.  Mills looks through the
    shoebox.  Inside are plastic, zip-lock bags.
    One contains small clumps of hair.  One contains a yellow
    liquid...
                                 MILLS
                          (looking at bags)
                  A urine sample, hair sample... stool
                  sample.  Finger nails...
                          (looks to Somerset)
                  He laughing at us.
    California is still close to Victor's face, when suddenly
    Victor's lips twist open and Victor lets out a loud, guttural
    bark.
    California jerks back, shouting in fear, falling over a chair to
    to the floor.
    Mills and Somerset reel.  They see California on the ground,
    scared out of his mind, pointing.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  He's alive!
    Somerset and Mills look towards the bed.
    Victor's lips move feebly as he lets out a sick, gurgling moan.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  He's still alive!!
    EXT.  SLUM APARTMENT BUILDING -- MORNING
    A crowd has gathered at the entrance.  Mills' car, the police van
    and two ambulances are parked on the sidewalk.
    INT.  SLUM HALLWAY -- MORNING
    The cops are in the hall holding neighbors at bay.
    INT.  SLUM APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- MORNING
    Three ambulance attendants are at the bed, working on Victor.
    One attendant uses wire cutters to clip Victor's bonds.
    INT.  SLUM STAIRWELL -- MORNING
    Mills and Somerset are standing in the middle of one flight of
    stairs.  Both are highly agitated.
                                 SOMERSET
                  The way this has gone till now, I wouldn't
                  have thought it was possible, but we may
                  have underestimated this guy.
                                 MILLS
                  I want him bad.  I don't just want to catch
                  him anymore.  I want to hurt him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Listen to me.  He's all about playing
                  games.
                                 MILLS
                  No kidding!  No fucking kidding!
                                 SOMERSET
                  We have to divorce ourselves from emotions
                  here.  No matter how hard it is, we have to
                  stay focused on the details.
                                 MILLS
                  I don't know about you, but I feed off my
                  emotions.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He'll string us along all the way if we're
                  not careful.
    Mills is looking at the floor, still burning.  Somerset grabs him
    by the jacket.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Are you listening to me?
    Mills pushes Somerset's hand off.
                                 MILLS
                  I hear you.
    There is a sudden, brilliant FLASH OF LIGHT and the SOUND of a
    CAMERA ADVANCING.  Mills and Somerset look.
    Down the stairs, a REPORTER has his camera up, pointed at them.
                                 REPORTER
                  Say cheese.
    He take another picture, flashbulb flashing.
    Mills goes down the stairs, grabs the reporter, a balding, almost
    silly looking man with thick glasses and wrinkled clothing.
                                 MILLS
                  What the fuck are you doing here?
    The reporter squirms, holds up a laminated press pass on a cord
    around his neck.
                                 REPORTER
                  I have a right, Officer.  I...
    Mills shoves him, and the reporter stumbles a few steps, then
    falls to the landing below with a thud.
                                 MILLS
                  That doesn't mean anything!  This is a
                  closed crime scene!
    Somerset comes to pull Mills back.  The shaken reporter stands
    uneasily.
                                 REPORTER
                  You can't do this!  You can't...
                                 MILLS
                  Get the fuck out of here!
    The reporter scrambles down the nest flight, out of sight.
                                 REPORTER (o.s.)
                  The public has a right to know!
    Somerset yanks Mills back harder, till Mills sits on the stairs.
                                 MILLS
                  How do those cockroaches get here so quick?
                                 SOMERSET
                  They pay cops for the inside scoop, and
                  they pay well.
                                 MILLS
                          (calming)
                  Sorry about that... I just...
                                 SOMERSET
                          (sarcastic)
                  Oh, it's alright.
    Somerset starts back up the stairs.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's always impressive to see a man feeding
                  off his emotions.
    INT.  HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY
    Somerset and Mills are with DOCTOR BEARDSLEY.  Victor lies inside
    an oxygen tent with tubes running into him.  The room is dim.
                                 DOCTOR
                  A year of immobility seems about right,
                  judging by the deterioration of the muscles
                  and the spine.  Blood tests show a whole
                  smorgasbord of drugs in his systems; from
                  crack to heroin... even an antibiotic which
                  must have been administered to keep the bed
                  sores from infecting.
    Mills looks into the oxygen tent.
                                 MILLS
                  He hasn't said anything, or tried to
                  express himself in any way?
                                 DOCTOR
                  Even if his brain were not mush, which it
                  is... he chewed off his own tongue long
                  ago.
    Mills winces, moves away from the bed.
                                 SOMERSET
                  There's no way he'll survive?
                                 DOCTOR
                  Detective, he'd die right how of shock if
                  you were to shine a flashlight in his eyes.
    Silence for a moment, then the doctor lets out a chuckle.
                                 DOCTOR
                  It's funny to think... he's experienced
                  about as much pain and suffering as anyone
                  I've encountered... give or take... and he
                  still has hell to look forward to.
    He chuckles again, engrossed in some information on a clipboard.
    Mills looks to Somerset like, "this guy's nuts."
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY
    A blackboard is nailed to the wall.  Written in chalk:
    1 gluttony (x)    5 wrath
    2 greed (x)       6 pride
    3 sloth (x)       7 lust
    4 envy
    Somerset and Mills are at their paperwork covered desks.
                                 SOMERSET
                          ((reading one sheet)
                  Victor's landlord says an envelope of cash
                  was in the office mailbox each month.  He
                  says, quote, "I never heard a single
                  complaint from the tenant in apartment
                  three-o-one, and nobody ever complained
                  about him.  He's the best tenant I've ever
                  had.
                                 MILLS
                  A landlord's dream tenant: a paralyzed man
                  with no tongue.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Who pays the rent on time.
    Somerset turns to the typewriter, types.  Mills fills out a form
    by hand.  He make an error and tries to erase, but the paper
    rips.  He curses, crumples the paper and throws it.
                                 MILLS
                  I'm sick of sitting around, waiting for him
                  to kill again.
                                 SOMERSET
                  This is the job.  It's not an Easter egg
                  hunt.
                                 MILLS
                  There must be something in this pile of
                  garbage we can follow.  I mean, Christ...
                  do we have to let this lunatic make all the
                  moves.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's too dismissive to call him a lunatic.
                  We can't make that mistake.
                                 MILLS
                  Oh, blah, blah, blah.  The guy's insane.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's a fine line between insane and
                  inspired.
                                 MILLS
                  Hey, Freud, what brand of bullshit are you
                  shoveling, huh?  Right now he's probably
                  dancing around his room in a pair of his
                  mommy's panties, singing show tunes and
                  rubbing himself with peanut butter...
                                 SOMERSET
                   No.
                                 MILLS
                  Sooner or later his luck's going to run
                  out.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No.  He's not depending on luck.  You've
                  seen that.  We walked into that apartment
                  exactly one year after he first tied Victor
                  to the bed, to the day.  To the day!
                  Because he wanted us to.
                                 MILLS
                  We don't know for sure...
                                 SOMERSET
                  Yes we do.  Here...
    Somerset picks up the photocopy of the first note.
                                 SOMERSET
                  This quote... his first words to us.  I
                  looked it up.  It's from Milton's Paradise
                  Lost.  "Long is the way, and hard, that out
                  of hell leads up to light... "
                                 MILLS
                  And so what?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Well, he's been right so far, hasn't he?
                                 MILLS
                  Just because the bastard has a library
                  card, it doesn't make him Einstein.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Just, realize... this is not some common
                  lunatic.  The type of intestinal fortitude
                  it must take... to keep a man bound for a
                  full year.  To connect tubes to his
                  genitals.  To sever his hand and use it to
                  plant fingerprints.  He's methodical and
                  exacting, and worst of all, he's patient.
                                 MILLS
                  What does all that matter anyway?  It's not
                  our job to figure him out, is it?  All we
                  have to do is catching him.
    Something clicks for Somerset.  He looks away, thinking.
    Mills watches him.
                                 MILLS
                  What?
    Somerset sits.  Ponders, staring off into space.
                                 MILLS
                  What is it?
    Somerset stands back up, takes money out of his pockets.
                                 SOMERSET
                  How much money do you have?
                                 MILLS
                  I don't know... like fifty.
    Somerset picks up the phone and dials, still sifting through his
    own money.  Mills doesn't know what's going on.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to Mills)
                  I propose a field trip.
    INT.  PUBLIC LIBRARY -- DAY
    Somerset walks through the busy main library, goes to a group of
    computer terminals.  Mills follows, wound up.  Somerset sits at
    one computer and works the keyboard, hunt-and-peck.
                                 MILLS
                  Somerset... what the fuck?
    Several people turn to shush him.  Somerset takes out a notepad.
                                 SOMERSET
                  At the top of the list, we'll put
                  Purgatory, Canterbury Tales... anything
                  relating to the seven deadly sins.  Now,
                  what the killer might research.  What would
                  he need to study to do the things he's
                  done?  What are his other interests?  For
                  example...
    INSERT -- COMPUTER SCREEN
    Somerset types.  On the screen:    SEARCH: JACK THE RIPPER.
    EXT.  HOT DOG WORLD -- DAY
    The restaurant's sign reads: HOT DOG WORLD, HOME OF THE WORLD'S
    BIGGEST DOGS.  A MAN is trying to give out paper advertisements.
    People walk out of their way to avoid him.
                                 MAN
                          (to people)
                  Take one, you stupid fucks!  Here... take
                  one!  It's a fucking coupon!  Take it!
    INT.  HOT DOG WORLD -- DAY
    Mills and Somerset are in a booth, both on the same seat on the
    same side of the table.  They look over their list of books.
    Mills goes to eat a hot dog, but Somerset stops him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  They had about fifty health violations
                  during the last inspection.
    Mills throws the dog down, looks at his watch.
                                 MILLS
                  Could you at least sit across from me?  I
                  don't want people to thing we're dating.
    Somerset watches a GREASY MAN, wearing a black suit, enter.  The
    man's hair is slicked back.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Give me your money.
    Mills hands his money to Somerset.
                                 MILLS
                  I'm handing you this, and for some strange
                  reason, I have the idea I should know what
                  the fuck we're doing.
    Somerset folds the money with his own into the list of books.  He
    holds the list in his lap, under the table.  Greasy Man comes to
    sit at the table.
                                 GREASY MAN
                  Hey, Somerset.  How are you?  I didn't know
                  this was going to be a menage-a-trois.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's not a problem.
                                 GREASY MAN
                  Only for you do I do this.  Big risk
                  here... so I figure we'll be even-up.  All
                  fair and square.
    Greasy Man has his hands under the table.  he gets up to leave
    with his hand in his pocket.  He picks up Mills' dog.
                                 GREASY MAN
                  About an hour.
    Greasy Man leaves, eating the hot dog.
                                 MILLS
                  Well, that was money well spent.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Let's go.
    INT.  PIZZA PARLOR -- DAY
    Mills and Somerset sit with a pizza before them.
                                 SOMERSET
                  By telling you this, I'm trusting you more
                  than I trust most people.
                                 MILLS
                  It's be best if you got to the point, cause
                  I'm about ready to punch you in the face.
    Somerset leans closer to Mills, speaks quietly.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's probably nothing, but even if it is,
                  it's no skin off our teeth.  The man at Hot
                  Dog World is a friend, in the Bureau.
                                 MILLS
                  Him?
                                 SOMERSET
                  For a long time, the F.B.I.'s been hooked
                  into the library system, keeping accurate
                  records.
                                 MILLS
                  What?  Assessing fines?
                                 SOMERSET
                  They monitor reading habits.  Not every
                  book, but certain ones are flagged.  Books
                  about... let's say, how to build a nuclear
                  bomb, or maybe Mein Kampf.  Whoever takes
                  out a flagged book has their library
                  records fed to the F.B.I. from then on.
                                 MILLS
                  You got to be kidding.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Flagged books cover every topic the Bureau
                  deems questionable... communism to violent
                  crime.
                                 MILLS
                  How is this legal?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Legal... illegal.  These terms don't apply.
                  I don't applaud it.
    Somerset takes a bite of pizza.
                                 SOMERSET
                  They can't use the information directly,
                  but it's a useful guide.  It might sound
                  silly, but you can't get a library card
                  without i.d. and a current phone bill.
    Mills is starting to warm to it.
                                 MILLS
                  So they ran our list.
                                 SOMERSET
                  If you want to know who's been reading
                  Paradise Lost, Purgatory, and say... The
                  Life and Time of Charlie Manson, the
                  Bureau's computer will tell you.  It might
                  give us a name.
                                 MILLS
                  Yeah.  Some college student who's taking
                  English 101 and just happens to be writing
                  a paper on Twentieth Century Crime.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Yeah, well... at least we're out of the
                  office.  We've got pizza.
                                 MILLS
                  How do you know all about this?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I don't.  Neither do you.
    Somerset looks up.  Greasy Man is entering the pizza parlor.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY
    The car is parked with Somerset at the wheel and Mills beside.
    They're looking through pages of connected computer paper.
                                 MILLS
                  This is a waste of time.
                                 SOMERSET
                  We're focusing.
                                 MILLS
                  I know, I know... focusing on one little
                  thing.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (reading aloud)
                  The Divine Comedy.  A History of
                  Catholicism.  A book called Murderers and
                  Madmen.
    He hands the sheets to Mills.  Mills looks them over.
                                 MILLS
                          (reading)
                  Modern Homicide Investigation.  In Cold
                  Blood.  Of Human Bondage.  Human Bondage?
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's not what you think it is.
                                 MILLS
                          (reads)
                  The Marquis de Sade and Origins of Sadism.
                                 SOMERSET
                  That is.
                                 MILLS
                          (reads)
                  The Writings of Saint Thomas Aqu...
                  Aquin...
                                 SOMERSET
                  Saint Thomas Aquinas.
                          (starts the car)
                  He wrote about the seven deadly sins.
    INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL/HALLWAY -- DAY
    Somerset and Mills walk up the stairs and turn a corner into this
    long hall.  Somerset is looking at the computer sheets.
                                 MILLS
                  You're sure you're reading that right?
                  John Doe?
                                 SOMERSET
                  That's what it says.  Jonathan Doe.
                                 MILLS
                  This is stupid.  It'd be just too easy.
                                 SOMERSET
                  We'll take a look at him.  Talk to him.
                                 MILLS
                  Sure.  Uh, excuse me... are you by any
                  chance a serial killer?  Oh, you are?
                  Well, come with us then, if it's okay.
    They reach a door, apartment 6A.  Somerset knocks.
                                 MILLS
                  What are you going to say?
                                 SOMERSET
                  You do the talking.  Put that old silver
                  tongue of yours to work.
                                 MILLS
                  Who told you about my silver tongue?  You
                  been talking to my wife?
    Mills knocks on the door, hard.
                                 MILLS
                  This is really lame.
    A CREAK is HEARD O.S.  Somerset turns to look towards it...
    A male figure, JOHN DOE, is standing at the stairwell, wearing a
    hat and standing in shadow, looking towards them.  Stark still.
    Somerset furrows his brow.
    The John Doe reaches into his coat, lifts his arm, pointing...
                                 SOMERSET
                  Mills... !
    BLAM -- GUNFIRE SOUNDS, deafening, as a bullet slams into door
    6A, just missing Somerset as he and Mills hit the floor.
    John Doe fires again...
    The bullet blows a huge hole in the wall, throwing plaster.  A
    third bullet follows, just above Mills and Somerset, and John Doe
    is heard running back down the stairs.
    The gunfire's still echoing, ringing, as Mills gets up and
    unholsters his gun.
                                 MILLS
                  Jesus Christ...
    Mills scrambles down the stairwell...
    IN THE STARWELL
    Mills bounds down stairs, turns a corner and leaps down another
    flight.  He halts on the landing, listening.  John Doe can be
    HEARD still RUNNING, below.
    IN THE HALL ABOVE
    Somerset rolls and takes out his gun.  He stands, dazed.
                                 MILLS (o.s.)
                          (from in stairwell)
                  What kind of gun was it?
    IN THE STAIRWELL
    Somerset comes into the stairwell.
                                 MILLS (o.s.)
                          (from below)
                  Damn it, Somerset... what kind of gun?!
                  How many bullets?
    BELOW, IN THE STAIRWELL
    Mills hurries down more stairs.
                                 SOMERSET (o.s.)
                          (from above)
                  I don't know.  Might've been a revolver.
    Voices echo.  Mills loses his footing, falls...
    Mills hits the next landing hard, dropping his gun.
                                 MILLS
                  Fuck!
    Mills gets back up and picks up his gun and keeps going.
    ABOVE IN THE STAIRWELL
                       the stairs, breathing hard.
                                 MILLS (o.s.)
                          (from below)
                  What's he look like?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Brown hat.  Tan raincoat... like a... like
                  a trench coat.
    BELOW IN THE STAIRWELL
                     ready, moves to peer over the railing, down into
                     stairwell's center...
                       in shadow, aiming his gun straight up...
                      s SHOT is FIRED from below and the bullet is
    ABOVE
                     Somerset splinters into a million pieces, sends
    Somerset ducking for cover.
                   far below -- the bullet is HEARD RICOCHETING
    BELOW
                       waiting as the gunshot echoes.
                                 MILLS
                          (to himself)
                  Five... that's five...
                    continues down the stairs.
    INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, LOWER HALLWAY -- DAY
                     stairs and into a hallway, falling to one knee,
                     ing his gun one direction -- empty hallway.
                        direction, gun hand shaking, catches a
    glimpse of John Doe just as he disappears around a corner far
                    Mills gets up, looking back to the number 2 by
                      ooks, shouting back towards the stairwell...
                                 MILLS
                  Second floor!  Second floor!
                    FOLLOW him, tearing ass...


                      rn, full speed ahead, bringing his gun up...
               John Doe's running...
    Mills takes aim...
    Ahead, between John Doe and Mills, a tenant in t-shirt and
    underwear comes out an apartment, looking towards John Doe,
    blocking the line of fire...
                                 MILLS
                  Get down!  Move... !
    The tenant turns to Mills, confused.  Mills pushes angrily
    past...
    Ahead, John Doe makes an abrupt halt.  A woman tenant is looking
    out her door and John Doe grabs her and throws her into the hall.
    She falls as John Doe shoves his way into her apartment.
    BACK AT THE STAIRWELL
    Somerset comes down the stairs, tired.  He runs.
    AROUND THE CORNER, IN THE OTHER HALLWAY SECTION
    Mills reaches the apartment Doe entered, bursting in...
    INT.  TENEMENT APARTMENT -- DAY
    Mills enters, gun up.  It's a railroad apartment, with all the
    rooms adjoining in a row.  At the far end of the apartment, John
    Doe can be seen moving out one room's window onto a fire escape
    just as that room's door is swinging shut.
    Mills charges through the apartment, full on...
    He bashes through the closed door...
    EXT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, FIRE ESCAPE -- DAY
    Mills leans out the window over an alleyway.  BLAM -- GUNSHOT.
    The window above Mills' shatters and Mills pulls back.
    Mills leans back out, fanning with his gun, searching.
    Below, John Doe runs out the alleyway's mouth and rounds a
    corner, gone.
    Mills curses, scrambling out onto the fire escape, running a few
    steps and then vaulting the rail... crashes down on the roof of a
    car parked below.  The windshield cracks.  Mills jumps off and
    continues the pursuit...
                                 MILLS
                          (to himself)
                  That's six...
    EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY
    Mills rounds the alleyway corner into people packed streets.
    Several people are running, heading several different directions.
    Mills comes to a halt, his focus confused, searching desperately.
    Others run upon seeing his gun.  Woman scream and grab up their
    children.  Mills can't see far down the sidewalk because of all
    the people.  He moves forward...
    He jumps atop a fire hydrant, gripping a street sign for balance,
    trying to see further down the street.
    MILLS' P.O.V. -- There he is!  John Doe can be seen, far off,
    moving across the street, through traffic, to the opposite
    sidewalk.
    ON THE STREET, Mills runs, into traffic, avoiding cars, down the
    center line.  Angry drivers scream at him.
    Ahead, John Doe glances back, ducking into an alley.
    Mills gets to the other sidewalk, yelling for people to get out
    of the way...
    EXT.  CITY ALLEYWAY -- DAY
    Mills comes to this tight alleyway.  It's dark, with a long,
    tall, vertical sliver of daylight far ahead.  Mills runs...
    Charging hard onwards...
    A two-by-four swings out from a hidden nook along the side of the
    alleyway -- slamming Mills in the face with a THWACK!!
    Mills' gun hits the alley wall and clatters into a puddle.
    Mills hits the dirt, on his back, nose broken and split, face
    bloodied.  He cries out, rolling to his side, clutching his face.
    The two-by-four is dropped.  John Doe's feet cross a short
    distance.  Doe's hand reaches to pick up Mills' gun.  (We never
    see John Doe's face.)
    Mills still lies on his side, stunned, spitting blood and
    cursing, when he feels the barrel of his gun against the side of
    his face.  Mills freezes.
    John Doe moves the gun slowly across Mills' face, till the barrel
    reaches Mills' mouth.  The barrel is inserted between his lips.
    The gun's hammer is pulled back.
    Mills quakes, tries to open his eyes, but he's blinded by the
    blood from his broken nose.  For an instant, there is a sudden,
    BRIGHT FLASH of LIGHT.
    After a long moment, the gun withdrawals.  From O.S., the bullets
    fall out of Mills gun onto his chest.
    The gun is dropped.  John Doe runs towards the sliver of light.
    He's gone.
    Mills lies for a long moment, gasping.  At the alleyway's entrance,
    Somerset appears.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Mills...
    Mills rolls, shaken, feeling to pick up the bullets and trying to
    rub the blood out of his eyes with his shirt sleeve.  Somerset
    arrives.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Are you alright?
                                 MILLS
                  I'm fine.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What happened?
    Mills gets up, collects his gun and pockets it, then walks past
    Somerset, heading back.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Mills... ?
    Mills starts running.  Somerset runs to follow.
    INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL/HALLWAY -- DAY
    Mills moves from the stairwell, driven, his nose still bleeding,
    heading for apartment 6A.  Somerset takes Mills arm, but Mills
    pulls away and keeps going.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Wait... just wait.
                                 MILLS
                  It was him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You can't go in there.
    Somerset grabs Mills again and Mills shoves him off.
                                 MILLS
                  The hell I can't!  We get in there and we
                  can stop him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  We need a warrant.
                                 MILLS
                  We have probable cause now.
    Somerset grabs Mills and shoves him against the wall.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Think about it...
                                 MILLS
                  What the fuck is wrong with you?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Think about how we got here!
    Somerset holds the computer paper, now crumpled in his hand.  He
    waves it in Mills' face as Mills struggles.
                                 SOMERSET
                  We can't tell anyone about this.  We can't
                  tell them about the Bureau, so we have no
                  reason for being here.
    Mills stops struggling, breathing hard, seething, trembling.
                                 MILLS
                  By the time we clear a warrant someone else
                  is going to be dead.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Think it through.  If we leave a hole like
                  this, we'll never prosecute.  He'll walk.
                          (pause)
                  We have to come up with some excuse for
                  knocking on this door.
                                 MILLS
                  Okay... okay... get off.
    Somerset releases Mills.  Mills looks around the hall, then goes
    right to door 6A and KICKS IT IN -- the door jam splinters and
    the door swings open to darkness for a moment before swinging
    back, half-shut.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You stupid son of a...
                                 MILLS
                  No point in arguing anymore...
    Mills strides down the short end of the hall, towards a window.
                                 MILLS
                          (pointing back)
                  Unless you can fix that.
    Mills stops, looking out the window.  It overlooks a weedy,
    overgrown courtyard where a THIN VAGRANT lies asleep on the
    concrete.  Mills turns, looking back to Somerset.
                                 MILLS
                  How much money do we have left?
    INT.  TENEMENT BUILDING, STAIRWELL -- EARLY EVENING
    On a stairwell landing, Somerset watches the thin vagrant from
    the courtyard talk to a uniformed POLICEMAN who writes on a
    clipboard, taking the statement.
                                 THIN VAGRANT
                  So, I... I noticed this guy going out...
                  going out a lot when those murders were
                  happening.  So... so I...
    The vagrant's clinging to the rail, drunk and out of it.  Mills
    is down further on the stairs, high strung, chomping at the bit
    to get this over with.
                                 MILLS
                  So, you called Detective Somerset, right?
                                 THIN VAGRANT
                  Yeah, I... I called the detective.
                  Because, because this guy seemed... creepy.
                  And... and...
                                 MILLS
                          (urging him on)
                  And...
                                 THIN VAGRANT
                  And, one of the murders was over there...
                  over... nearby here.  I... I called the
                  cops...
    The vagrant wipes drool from his lips.  Mills comes to grip him
    so he doesn't fall, searching the policemen's face for suspicion.
                                 MILLS
                  I told you the rest.  You got it?
                                 POLICEMAN
                          (still writing)
                  Yeah, whatever.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Have him sign it.
    The policeman holds the clipboard and pen out to the vagrant.
    Mills takes the pen and guides the vagrant's hand, almost signing
    it for him.
                                 MILLS
                  Great.  Is that it?
    The policeman nods.  Mills grips the vagrant and leads him down
    the stairs in a hurry, around a bend.  Mills looks up to be sure
    they're out of the policeman's sight, takes out a wad of cash and
    shoves it in the vagrant's pocket.
                                 MILLS
                  Go drink yourself happy.
    Mills quickly guides the vagrant on his way, then turns and
    rushes up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills pushes door 6A open, putting on rubber gloves.  He steps in
    with Somerset behind.  Somerset turns back to the policeman.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to policeman)
                  Wait outside.
    Somerset closes the door most of the way.  Mills hits a switch on
    the wall and a lamp illuminates a desk.  The desk is in the
    center of the room, facing them.  The room is bizarre, with some
    areas cluttered and others barren.  All the walls are painted
    black.  All the large, curtainless windows are painted over.
    Somerset puts on his gloves.  Mills walks to the desk.
    The desktop is rather tidy.  The only blatantly strange thing is
    a set of notches carved into the wooden surface: three notches.
    A candle has been allowed to burn down at one corner of the desk
    and the wax trail goes all the way to the floor.  Mills opens the
    middle desk drawer.  It's empty except for The Holy Bible.
    Somerset moves along shelves of books, looking at the spines.
    Lots of thick, oversized art volumes.  A HISTORY OF THEOLOGY.
    HANDBOOK OF FIREARMS.  HISTORY OF THE WORLD.  SUMMA THEOLOGICA.
    UNITED STATES CRIMINAL LAW REVIEW.
    At the desk, Mills opens another drawer.  It's filled with at
    least forty empty aspirin bottles.  He opens the next drawer and
    finds a rosary and several boxes of bullets.
    Somerset comes to look at John Doe's "bed."  No mattress. It's
    only a metal frame and springs with a sheet spread across it.
    The sheet is sweat stained and dotted by stains of rust at many
    points where springs have worn through.
    Somerset walks around the bed to a narrow table not far away
    against the wall.  The table contains a strange tableau, like a
    mini stage, hand-made of cardboard and pasted Communion wafers.
    A human hand immersed in a jar of liquid is the centerpiece.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (quiet, to himself)
                  Victor.
    Above this, on the wall, there's a clutter of pinned up articles
    about the seven deadly sins, pages from art books, pencil
    drawings of Christ, all tight together and overlapping.
    Mills picks up a small piece of paper from a letter holder.  It's
    a pink receipt from WILD BILL'S LEATHER SHOP.
    Written: CUSTOM JOB. $502.64. PAID IN FULL.  Mills puts the
    receipt back down on the desk.
    Somerset walks to a black door.  Opens it.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMEN, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset enters.  A ceiling light is on.  Bare bulb.  There are
    bookshelves on three walls, filled with notebooks.  Thousands and
    thousands of notebooks.
    Somerset takes one notebook down.  It is a thick composition book
    with an unlabeled cover.  Inside, the pages are filled with small
    handwritten sentences, thumb-nail sketches and blurry, glued in
    photographs; small photos, seemingly cut from contact sheets.
    the sketches, pictures and writings takes up ever single inch.
    Somerset takes down another notebook and flips through the pages.
    Same as the first, filled to the brim.
    Somerset crosses to another shelf and pulls another notebook.
    Same deal.  Somerset looks around.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Jesus.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills moves from the desk to a hall.  He tries a light switch,
    but it does nothing.  He walks...
    It's dark.  A rather long hall.  The only light is a red glow
    seeping from under the bottom of the closed door ahead.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset walks to a 16mm film projector.  It sits facing a
    battered white screen.  Somerset turns the projector on, backing
    away to switch off the bare bulb above.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, HALL -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills reaches the door at the end of the hall.  He turns the knob
    and pushes the door open.  He's bathed in red light.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, BATHROOM -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills enters.  He looks around, slowly.  Stunned.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- EARLY EVENING
    The projector is clattering in the dark, running a piece of film
    through.  The film is spliced to run as a non-stop loop.
    Somerset watches the screen, light strobing across him.
    The screen shows a bright image of clouds drifting, with strange
    superimposed angels in flowing robes floating jerkily.  It's like
    a weird, old Hollywood version of Heaven.
    The images switch abruptly to fire and tormented souls laboring
    around a pit of molten goo, where more tormented humans squirm.
    Like Heaven, it's a scratched piece of film from Hollywood's
    early days.
                                 MILLS (o.s.)
                  Somerset!
    Somerset is engrossed in the images.
                                 MILLS (o.s.)
                  Somerset... come here!
    Somerset hears him.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, HALL/BATHROOM -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset comes down the hall.
                                 MILLS (o.s.)
                  We had him, damn it.
    Somerset reaches the bathroom where Mills stands looking up at
    the wall.  The room has been converted into a dark room lit by
    red bulbs, with strips of film hanging from the ceiling.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What are you talking about?
                                 MILLS
                  We had him.
    There are hundreds of prints on the walls and hanging from drying
    wires.  Somerset looks around, trying to understand...
    Pictures of John Doe's victims, alive and dead.  Grotesque
    photos, of their pleading faces, and their dead bodies.  Close
    shots of eyes, fingers and mouths.
    Mills sits on the closed toilet, throwing something into the
    nearby sink and resting his head in his hands.
                                 MILLS
                  The pass was a fake.
    In the sink -- it's a laminated press pass on a neck cord.
    On the walls, more pictures: of the crime scenes, but from the
    outside looking in.  Long shots.  Police cars.  Ambulances.
    Uniformed officers putting up police barrier ribbons outside
    buildings.  The coroner's wagon.
    Somerset stares at them, taking them in, realizing...
                                 MILLS
                  We had him and we let him go.
    In the backgrounds of the pictures: Somerset and Mills.  In
    another: Mills crossing the street.  In another: Somerset and
    Mills getting out of Somerset's car.
    One photo, close shot, shows Mills and Somerset on the stairwell
    of the building where Victor's body was found.  It is the
    picture taken by the balding, almost silly looking reporter.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- NIGHT
    A male forensic uses tongs to remove Victor's hand from the jar
    of liquid.  He places the hand in a clear plastic evidence bag.
    The forensic walks away with the hand, past a FEMALE SKETCH
    ARTIST who puts the finishing touches on an accurate drawing of
    the balding, almost silly looking reporter who wears thick
    glasses, now known as John Doe.
                                 SKETCH ARTIST
                  You're sure this is him?
    Mills stands over the sketch artist.  Two deputy detectives, SARA
    and BILLY, are at work along with two other forensics searching,
    photographing and dusting.
                                 MILLS
                  Just put it in circulation.
                                 SKETCH ARTIST
                  You got it.  Tomorrow morning, this city's
                  good citizens will be on the lookout for
                  Elmer Fudd.
                                 SARA
                          (coming to Mills)
                  We can't find anything to hang on to.  No
                  paystubs, no appointment books or
                  calendars.  Not even an address book.  And,
                  you're not going to believe this...
                                 MILLS
                  Keep looking.
                                 SARA
                  It's just... we haven't found any
                  fingerprints yet.  Not a single one.
                                 MILLS
                  You know, you're right, I don't believe
                  you.  Keep looking.
    Mills walks away.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- NIGHT
    Somerset and three uniformed officers are looking through the
    notebooks on the shelves.  Somerset squints at the notebook in
    his hand, shaking his head as he reads.  Mills enters.
    Somerset looks up and closes the notebook.
                                 SOMERSET
                  We could use about fifty more men here.
                                 MILLS
                  I'm trying, alright?  Just tell me what
                  we've got.
    Somerset pauses briefly at Mills' abruptness.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Well, there are at least five thousand
                  notebooks in this room, and near as I can
                  tell, each notebook contains two hundred
                  and fifty pages.
                                 MILLS
                  Then, he must write about these murders.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (opens notebook, reads)
                  "What sick, ridiculous, puppets we are, and
                  what a gross, little stage we dance on.
                  What fun we have, dancing and fucking, not
                  a care in the world.  Not knowing that we
                  are nothing.  We are not what was
                  intended."
    Somerset turns a few pages.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (reads)
                  "On the subway today, a man came to me to
                  start a conversation.  He made small talk,
                  this lonely man, talking about the weather
                  and other things.  I tried to be pleasant
                  and accommodating, but my head began to
                  hurt from his banality.  I almost didn't
                  notice it had happened, but I suddenly
                  threw up all over him.  He was not pleased,
                  and I couldn't help laughing."
    Somerset closes the notebook.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No dates indicated, placed on the shelves
                  in no discernible order.  It's just his
                  mind poured out on paper.  I don't think
                  it's going to give us any specifics.
                                 MILLS
                  Looking around... I've got a bad feeling
                  these murders are his life's work.
    A PHONE is HEARD RINGING in another room.  Mills looks.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- NIGHT
    Everyone's looking around, and at each other, trying to find the
    source of the RINGING.  Mills and Somerset enter, baffled.  Mills
    looks to Sara.  She shrugs and shakes her head.
    Everyone searches.  PHONE RINGS.
    Mills gets on his hands and knees.
                                 MILLS
                  Here...
    Mills crawls under John Doe's "bed."  He comes back out with a
    rotary phone.  Someone throws him a micro-cassette recorder.
    Mills turns the recorder on, makes sure it's running, then picks
    up the phone with the recorder to the earpiece.
                                 MILLS
                          (into phone)
                  Hello.
                                 JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                          (from phone)
                  I admire you.  I don't know how you found
                  me, but imagine my surprise.  I respect you
                  detectives more every day.
                                 MILLS
                          (into phone)
                  Okay, John, let's...
                                 JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                          (from phone)
                  No, no, no!  You listen.  I'll be back on
                  schedule tomorrow, even with this setback.
                  I just had to call and express my
                  admiration.  I'm sorry I had to hurt you
                  today, but I didn't have a choice.  You
                  will accept my apology, won't you?
    Mills says nothing, containing his anger.
                                 JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                  I feel like saying more... but I don't want
                  to ruin the surprise.
    John Doe hangs up.  Mills puts down the phone.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- LATER NIGHT
    Mills and Somerset stand in the dark, watching the continuous
    loop projector's strange images of Heaven and Hell.
                                 MILLS
                  You were right.
    Somerset looks at Mills.
                                 MILLS
                  He's preaching.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (nods)
                  These murders are his masterwork.  His
                  sermon to all of us.  To all us sinners.
    The door opens and light bursts in.  The captain stands there,
    looking them over.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  It's been a long day, kids.  Go home.  Just
                  make sure you sleep with the phone between
                  your legs.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT
    Somerset winds his metronome.  PHONE RINGS.  Somerset does not
    want to answer it, but does.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (into phone)
                  Hello.
                                 TRACY (v.o.)
                          (from phone)
                  Hello, William?  It's Tracy.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (into phone)
                  Tracy, is everything alright?
                                 TRACY (v.o.)
                  Yes, yes, everything's fine.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Where's David?
                                 TRACY (v.o.)
                  He's in the shower, in the other room.  I'm
                  sorry to call like this.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's alright, I guess.
                                 TRACY (v.o.)
                  I, um... I need to talk to you.  I need to
                  talk to someone.  Can you meet me
                  somewhere... maybe tomorrow morning?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I really don't understand.
                                 TRACY (v.o.)
                  I feel stupid, but you're the only person I
                  know here.  There's no one else...
                                 SOMERSET
                  I just...
                                 TRACY (v.o.)
                  Can't you get away, for a little while?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I don't know, with this case.
                                 TRACY
                  If you can, please call me.  Please.  I
                  have to go now... goodnight.
    Tracy hangs up.  Somerset looks at the phone, wondering.
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    FRIDAY
    INT.  COFFEE CAFE -- MORNING
    Somerset sits in the window booth with Tracy.  The cafe is noisy.
    Tracy stares into her coffee while she stirs it.
                                 TRACY
                  I mean, you known this city.  You've been
                  here for so long.
                                 SOMERSET
                  It's a hard place.
                                 TRACY
                  I don't sleep very well.
    Somerset is trying to be understanding, but sneaks a look at his
    watch.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I feel strange being here with you...
                  without David knowing.
                                 TRACY
                  I'm sorry, I only...
    Two young punks step up to the window outside and look in at
    Tracy.  One flicks his tongue rapidly.  Tracy looks away.
    Somerset takes out his badge and holds it against the window.
    One punk gives the finger and the other spits on the window.
    They leave, laughing.  Tracy tries to smile.
                                 TRACY
                  Perfect example.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You have to put blinders on sometimes.
                  Most times.
                                 TRACY
                  I don't know why I asked you to come.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Talk to him about it.  He'll understand if
                  you tell him how you feel.
                                 TRACY
                  I can't be a burden, especially now.  I
                  know I'll get used to things.  I guess I
                  wanted to know what someone who's lived
                  here thinks.  Upstate, it was a completely
                  different environment.
                          (pause)
                  I don't know if David told you, but I teach
                  fifth grade, or did.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He mentioned it.
    Tracy seems very upset, near tears.
                                 TRACY
                  I've been going to some of the schools,
                  looking for work, but the conditions here
                  are... horrible.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You should look into private schools.
                                 TRACY
                  I don't know...
    Tracy looks up, wipes at her eyes.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What's really bothering you?
    Tracy bites her lip.
                                 TRACY
                  David and I are... going to have a baby.
    Somerset sits back, the expression of soothing concern on his
    face disappearing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Oh, Tracy... I have to tell you, I'm not
                  the one to talk to about this.
                                 TRACY
                  I hate this city.
    Somerset sighs.  He takes out a cigarette, but thinks better of
    it and puts it back.  He looks out the window.
                                 SOMERSET
                  If you're thinking...
                          (pause)
                  I had a relationship once, very much like a
                  marriage.  And, she was going to have our
                  child.  This is a long time ago.  She and I
                  had decided we were going to make the
                  choice together... whether to keep the
                  baby.
    Tracy looks at Somerset.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Well, I got up one morning and went to
                  work... just like any other day, except it
                  was my first since hearing about the baby.
                  And, I... I felt this fear and anxiety
                  washing over me.  I looked around, and I
                  thought, how can we raise a child
                  surrounded by all this?  How can a child
                  grow up here?
                          (pause)
                  So, that night, I told her I didn't want us
                  to have it, and over the next few weeks, I
                  convinced her it was wrong.  I mean... I
                  wore her down, slowly.
                                 TRACY
                  I want to have children.  It's just...
                                 SOMERSET
                  I can tell you now, I know... I'm positive
                  I made the right decision.  I'm positive.
                  But, there's never a day that passes that I
                  don't wish I had decided differently.
    Somerset reaches and takes Tracy's hand.
                                 SOMERSET
                  If you... don't keep the baby, if that's
                  what you decide, then, never tell him you
                  were pregnant.  I mean that.  Never.
                          (pause)
                  The relationship will whither and die.
    Tracy nods, tears welling up again.  Somerset smiles a bit.
                                 SOMERSET
                  But, if you do decide to have the baby,
                  then, at that very moment, when you're
                  absolutely sure, tell David.  Tell him at
                  that exact second, and then spoil that kid
                  every chance you get.
    There are tears in Somerset's eyes.
                                 SOMERSET
                  That's all the advice I can give you,
                  Tracy.  I don't even know you.
    He smiles again, wipes his own tears.
                                 TRACY
                  William...
    Somerset's beeper begins BEEPING.  He takes it out and stands,
    wanting to leave.  Tracy gets up and kisses him on the cheek.
                                 TRACY
                  Thank you.
    Somerset starts to back away.
                                 TRACY
                  Keep in touch after you're gone, William.
                  Please.
    Somerset nods, raises a hand to say goodbye as he leaves.
    INT.  WILD BILL'S LEATHER SHOP -- DAY
    Mills and Somerset are on one side of the counter and WILD BILL
    is on the other.  Wild Bill is shirtless and covered in tattoos.
    He has a thick scar running down the center of his forehead and
    down his cheek.  leather belts, whips and jackets hang on the
    walls and from the ceiling.
                                 WILD BILL
                  Yeah, he picked it up last night.
    Wild Bill holds the pink receipt from John Doe's apartment.
                                 MILLS
                  This was definitely him?
    Mills points to the rendering of John Doe he holds.
                                 WILD BILL
                  Yeah, John Doe.  Easy name to remember.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What was this job you did for him?
                                 WILD BILL
                  I got a picture of it here.  It's a real
                  sweet piece...
    Wild Bill pulls a box from behind the counter, digs in it.
                                 WILD BILL
                  I figured he must be one of those
                  performance artists.  That's what I
                  figured.
                  Like one of those guys who pisses in a cup
                  on stage and drinks it.  Performance art.
    Wild Bill hands a Polaroid picture to Mills.  We do not see the
    picture yet.
                                 MILLS
                  Oh... give me a break.
                                 WILD BILL
                  I think I undercharged him.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (looks at photo)
                  You built this for him?  You build this?
                                 WILD BILL
                  I've built weirder shit than that.  So
                  what?
    A POLICEMAN enters the store.
                                 POLICEMAN
                  Detectives... we have a situation.
    Mills and Somerset follow the cop out.
                                 WILD BILL
                  Hey, my picture... !
    Wild Bill watches them go, scratches his thick scar.
                                 WILD BILL
                  Fucking pigs.
    EXT.  THE HOT HOUSE MASSAGE PARLOUR -- DAY
    It's a madhouse outside The Hot House, a bright red storefront
    bordered on both sides by porno theater after porno theater.  A
    crowd is gathered around a police action in progress.
    Cops have formed a barrier, holding back the crowd and creating
    an aisle from the entrance of The Hot House to the back of a
    jail-van.  Cops and detectives are escorting various men, women
    and transvestites into the large vehicle.  The crowd, consisting
    of the dregs of society, is shouting.  Some people are spitting
    and throwing trash at the cops.
    INT.  THE HOT HOUSE, RECEPTION AREA -- DAY
    TWO COPS are in front of a glass and steel cage.  Inside the cage
    is a fat, BALD MAN with a wall of sex toys behind him.
                                 BALD MAN
                  Just wait!  Just wait!
    One cop pounds his nightstick against the glass.
                                 COP
                  Get out of the fucking booth!
                                 BALD MAN
                  Just wait!  I'll come out, just wait!
    INT.  THE HOT HOUSE, CORRIDORS -- DAY
    All the lights are red and the walls are painted red.  Mills and
    Somerset follow a THIRD COP through the twisting corridors.
    POLICEMEN can be HEARD SHOUTING and MAKING ARRESTS.  ROCK MUSIC
    PLAYS, throbbing.  They come to a door.
                                 THIRD COP
                  I don't want to go in there again.
    INT.  RED ROOM -- DAY
    Mills and Somerset enter.  ROCK MUSIC CONTINUES, LOUD.  A strobe
    light flashes from the ceiling.  TWO AMBULANCE ATTENDANTS are in
    the room.  The first attendant is placing a sheet over a bed,
    hiding the corpse of a blonde woman.  The second attendant is
    trying to examine the pupils of a CRAZED MAN, 55, who is naked
    and wrapped in a sheet.  A SWEATING COP holds crazed man down.
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  He... he... he made me do it!
                                 SECOND ATTENDANT
                  I have to look at you.  I have to look at
                  you!
    LUST is scratched into the red paint on the wall in big letters.
    Mills and Somerset move towards the covered body.
                                 FIRST ATTENDANT
                          (to Mills and Somerset)
                  You're not going to want to see this more
                  than once.
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  He had a gun!  He made me do it!
    The sheet is lifted for the detectives.  They grimace at what
    they see.  We do not see.  Somerset closes his eyes and turns
    away.  The first attendant replaces the sheet.
    Mills steps back, takes out his handkerchief and sucks on it.  He
    looks at the crazed man.  The crazed man jerks around while the
    second attendant preps a needle.
                                 SECOND ATTENDANT
                  He's in shock, man.  He's gone.
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  Take this thing off me... take it off!
                  Please, take this thing off me!
    The sweating cop keeps his controlling grip on the crazed man.
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  Get it off... oh, God!
                                 SWEATING COP
                          (to Mills and Somerset)
                  You're the detectives, right?  Right?
                  Well, you'd better see this!
    Somerset's facing the wall.  Crazed man's still yelling.
                                 SWEATING COP
                  Hey... you better see what's strapped onto
                  this guy!
    Mills turns to the cop.
                                 MILLS
                  We've already seen it!
    INT.  SANATORIUM, WHITE ROOM -- DAY
    A Polaroid photograph on a white table.  It is the photo Wild
    Bill gave to Mills.  It's a picture of a belt, made with extra
    leather straps so it can be worn securely around the groin.  It
    is a strap-on phallus, except there is no plastic protuberance.
    Instead, there is a metal knife -- it's a strap-on butcher's
    knife.
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  And... and... and he said... he asked me if
                  I was married.  And, I could see he had a
                  gun in his hand.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Where was the girl?
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  What?  What?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Where was the prostitute?  Where was she?
    The crazed man leans forward in his chair.
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  She was... she was on the bed.  She was
                  just sitting on the bed.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Who tied her down?  You or him?
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  He had a gun.  He had a gun... and he made
                  it happen.  He made me do it!
                          (sobbing)
                  He made me put that... that thing on.  Oh,
                  Christ!  He made me wear it... and... and
                  he told me to fuck her.  He had the gun in
                  my mouth.
    The man slides to the floor and hides his face in his hands.
                                 CRAZED MAN
                  The gun was in my throat!
    Somerset looks up at the mirror in his room.  He stands and picks
    up the Polaroids as two men in institutional uniforms enter to
    collect the crazed man from the floor.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, INTERROGATION ROOM -- DAY
    Mills stands in this dirty room with the dirty, bald man from The
    Hot House's reception area booth.
                                 MILLS
                  You didn't hear any screams?  Nothing?  You
                  didn't notice when this man walked in with
                  a package under his arm?!
                                 BALD MAN
                  No, I didn't.
                                 MILLS
                  You didn't notice anything wrong?  Nothing
                  seemed strange to you?
                                 BALD MAN
                  Everybody who goes in there has a package
                  under his arm.  Some guys are carrying
                  suitcases full of stuff.  And, screams?
                  There're screams coming out of there
                  everyday.  It goes with the territory,
                  little boy!
                                 MILLS
                  You like what you do for a living?  You
                  like the things you see?
    The bald man smiles strangely.
                                 BALD MAN
                  No.  No, I don't.  But, that's life.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- EARLY EVENING
    The blackboard:
    1  gluttony (x)     5  wrath
    2  greed (x)        6  pride
    3  sloth (x)        7  lust (x)
    4  envy
    Somerset and Mills are shell-shocked, silent, seated at their
    desks.  Somerset is looking at the blackboard.  Mills is looking
    at the billboard out the window.
    INT.  SPORTS BAR -- NIGHT
    Somerset and Mills sit with a full pitcher of beer.  The jukebox
    plays for the other customers.  The walls of the bar are covered
    with trophies, plaques and other victory symbols.
                                 SOMERSET
                  The irony is, after a day of the type of
                  work he did, he'd come home and read me
                  these morbid crime stories.  Murders in the
                  Rue Morgue.  Le Fanu's Green Tea.  My
                  mother would give him hell because he was
                  keeping me up till all hours.
                                 MILLS
                  Sounds like a father who wanted his son to
                  follow in his footsteps.
                                 SOMERSET
                  One birthday he gave me this brand new
                  hardcover book, "The Century of the
                  Detective," by Jurgen Thorwald.  It traced
                  the history of deduction as a science, and
                  it sealed my fate, because it was real, not
                  fiction.  And, that a drop of blood or a
                  piece of hair could solve a crime... it was
                  incredible to me.
    Somerset drinks, then pours more beer.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You know... there's not going to be a happy
                  ending to this.  It's not possible anymore.
                                 MILLS
                  If we get him, I'll be happy enough.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No.  Face it now.  Stop thinking it's good
                  guys against bad guys.
                                 MILLS
                  How can you say that?  Especially after
                  today?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Don't try to focus on things as black and
                  white, because you'll go blind.  There's no
                  winning and losing here.
                                 MILLS
                  You're the oldest man I know, Somerset.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You tell me, then... you walk into an
                  apartment, and a man has beaten his wife to
                  death, or the wife murdered the husband,
                  and you have to wash the blood off their
                  children.  You put the killer in jail.  Who
                  won?
                                 MILLS
                  You do your job...
                                 SOMERSET
                  Where's the victory?
                                 MILLS
                  You follow the law and do the best you can.
                  It's all there.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Just know that in this case there's not
                  going to be any satisfaction.  If we caught
                  John Doe and he were the devil himself, if
                  it turned out he were actually Satan, then,
                  that might live up to our expectations.  No
                  human being could do these things, right?
                  But, this is not the devil.  It's just a
                  man.
                                 MILLS
                  Why don't you shut the fuck up for a while?
                  You bitch and complain... if I thought like
                  you, I would have slit my wrist already.
    Somerset sits back, looking at Mills.
                                 MILLS
                  You think you're preparing me for the hard
                  times ahead?  You think you're toughening
                  me up?  Well, you're not!  You're quitting,
                  fine... but I'm staying.
                                 SOMERSET
                  People don't want a champion.  They just
                  want to keep playing the lottery and eating
                  hamburgers.
                                 MILLS
                  What the fuck is wrong with you?  What
                  burnt you out?
                                 SOMERSET
                  It wasn't one thing, if that's what you
                  mean.  I just... I can't live here anymore.
                  I can't live where stupidity is embraced
                  and nurtured as if it were a virtue.
                                 MILLS
                  Oh, you're so much better than everyone,
                  right?  No one's worthy of you.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Wrong!  I sympathize completely, because if
                  you can't win... then, if you don't ignore
                  everything and everyone around you, you...
                  you become like John Doe.  It's easier to
                  beat a child than it is to raise it,
                  because it takes so much work to love.  You
                  just have to make sure you don't stop to
                  think about the abuse, and the damage,
                  because you'll risk being sad.  Keep
                  ignoring.
                                 MILLS
                  You're talking about people who are
                  mentally ill.  You're...
                                 SOMERSET
                  No I'm not!  I'm talking about common,
                  everyday life here.  If you let yourself
                  worry about one thing, you'll worry about
                  the next, and the next, and it never ends.
                  In this place, ignorance isn't just bliss,
                  it's a matter of survival.
                                 MILLS
                  Listen to yourself.  You say, "the problem
                  with people is they don't care, so I don't
                  care about people."  But, you're already
                  here.  You've been here a long time.  So,
                  there's a part of you that knows, even if
                  everything you say is true, none of it
                  matters.
                                 SOMERSET
                  That part of me is dead.
    Mills stands.
                                 MILLS
                  You want me to agree with you: "Yeah,
                  you're right, Somerset.  This is a fucked
                  place.  Let's go live in a fucking log
                  cabin."  Well, I don't agree with you.
                  You're giving up, and it makes me sick,
                  because you're the best I've ever seen.
    Mills throws some money on the table.
                                 MILLS
                  Thanks for the beer.
    Mills leaves, other patrons watching him.
    Somerset takes out a cigarette and goes to light it.  The lighter
    will not light, and when it does, Somerset's hand is trembling.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT
    Mills comes quietly into the dark bedroom.  Tracy is asleep on
    the bed.  Mills takes off his suit jacket, puts it down.  He sits
    on a chair and unties one shoe, takes it off, then looks at
    Tracy.  Looks at her a long moment.
    He puts the shoe on the floor and goes to get on the bed.  He
    kisses his wife's forehead, kisses her cheek, then wraps his arms
    under and around her.  He holds her tight, kisses her again.
    Tracy stirs.
                                 TRACY
                  Honey?
    Mills runs his fingers along her face.
                                 MILLS
                  I love you.
    Mills holds her tighter.  She wraps her arms around him.  They
    lie together, clinging, holding tighter still.
    INT.  MILLS' APARTMENT BUILDING/STREET -- NIGHT
    Through the window of the apartment, we can see Tracy and Mills
    on the bed.  CAMERA MOVES from this window, to the street.
    CAMERA CONTINUES down the night street, to a car far from Mills'
    building.  Inside the car, John Doe sits, looking up at Mills'
    window.  Doe looks as plain as white bread.  He adjusts his thick
    glasses, sips from a coffee cup.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- NIGHT
    Somerset is in bed.  The metronome is sounding; tick... tick...
    tick...  The SOUNDS of the CITY are LOUD.
    Somerset closes his eyes, concentrating on the metronome.
    Tick... tick... tick...  TWO MEN are HEARD from outside, YELLING
    at each other.  Somerset rolls over, restless.  Tick... tick...
    tick...
    GLASS is HEARD SHATTERING.  Somerset opens his eyes.  MORE GLASS,
    bottles being smashed.  Somerset sits up.  He reaches over, grabs
    the metronome and throws it against the wall.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM -- LATER NIGHT
    THWACK.  Somerset's switchblade hits the dartboard on the wall
    and the blade embeds.
    Somerset crosses the room, still dressed for bed.  He is tense.
    He takes the switchblade from the dartboard, paces back across
    the room, turns, holds the blade, then throws.  The blade sticks.
    Somerset paces back to the dartboard, pulls the blade, paces
    back, throws the knife.  THWACK.  He goes to the board, gets the
    blade, paces, turns, throws.  THWACK.
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    SATURDAY
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, MAIN ROOM -- DAY
    A clock on the wall says 12:30.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARTMENT, ROOM TWO -- DAY
    Three deputy detectives are reading John Doe's notebooks.  PHONE
    RINGS from the other room.
    INT.  JOHN DOE'S APARMENT, MAIN ROOM -- DAY
    One deputy enters.  He goes to the phone near the bed.  The
    phone's been hooked into recording device with a speaker and
    tracing equipment.  The deputy turns everything on, answers.
                                 JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                          (through speaker)
                  I've gone and done it again.
    INT.  LUXURY APARTMENT, BATHROOM -- DAY
    Somerset is looking around this femininely decorated bathroom
    with a forensic, GIL.  Both wear rubber gloves.
    At the sink, objects covered in blood: a pair of scissors, a
    hypodermic needle, first-aid tape and gauze bandages, a bottle of
    anesthetic, a straight razor and a tube of super glue.
                                 GIL
                  He really did a number on her, didn't he?
    Gil opens the plastic shower curtain and looks into the tub.  The
    tub and shower wall are splattered with blood.  The tub has a few
    inches of water in it.  The water is cloudy red.  A few bits of
    tape and gauze float in it.  Gil jiggles the drain's knob.  Some
    bubbles pop up from the clogged drain.
    INT.  LUXURY APARTMENT, BEDROOM -- DAY
    PRIDE is written in lipstick on a full length mirror.  Below
    that: I DID NOT KILL HER.  SHE WAS GIVEN A CHOICE.
    Mills and Dr. O'Neill are in the room.  O'Neill goes through his
    black bag.  They're by a bed where a WOMAN lies dead under a
    blanket.  The woman's head is sloppily bandaged with heavy white
    gauze and tape.  The gauze is stained by spots of blood.  Only
    the eyes and mouth have been left uncovered.  A zoo's worth of
    stuffed animals have been placed across the bed.  The woman holds
    a stuffed unicorn.
    Somerset enters from the bathroom as Mills reaches to take the
    unicorn from the woman's grasp.  There is a cordless phone in her
    left hand, and her and clings to it.
    Her right hand holds a bottle of prescription pills.  Mills tries
    to open the fingers of this hand with a tongue depressor, but
    they are super-glued to the bottle.  Mills turns the woman's hand
    slightly so two red pills roll out onto the blanket.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Sleeping pills.
    Mills examines the left hand.  The phone is glued into it.
    O'Neill steps up, holding a thin pair of silver scissors.  He
    leans to slide the scissors under the woman's bandage mask,
    starts cutting.
    Somerset goes to a dresser where the woman's purse sits open.  He
    takes out the driver's license and looks at the photo.  The woman
    in the picture is stunningly beautiful.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You see what he did?
    Mills is watching the doctor work.
                                 MILLS
                  He cut her up and dressed the wounds.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (holds up his left hand)
                  Call for help, and you'll live.  But,
                  you'll be disfigured.
                          (raises right hand)
                  Or, put yourself out of your misery.
    O'Neill removes the bandages.  Mills looks away.  We do not see.
    O'Neill looks to the detectives.
                                 O'NEILL
                  He cut off her nose to spite her face, and
                  he did it very recently.
    EXT.  CITY STREET -- DAY
    Mills' car pulls up in front of the precinct house.  Mills and
    Somerset get out.  They wade through cars towards the old
    precinct house building.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I've decided to stay on this, till it's
                  over.  Till it's either done or we can both
                  see it's never going to finish.
    Mills remains impassive.
                                 MILLS
                  Oh, you want to stay now?
                                 SOMERSET
                  One of two things will happen.  We're
                  either going to get John Doe, or he'll
                  finish his series of seven, and this case
                  will go on for years.
                                 MILLS
                  You think you're doing me a big favor by
                  staying?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'm requesting you keep me on as your
                  partner a few more days.  You'd be doing me
                  the favor.
    Mills walks on.
                                 MILLS
                  You knew I'd say yes.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No, actually, I wasn't sure at all.
    Somerset and Mills climb the steps of the precinct house.
    Behind them, in the street, John Doe's car pulls up and parks.
    Cars behind begin BEEPING.  People behind begin cursing and
    screaming for him to move.
    John Doe steps out, his brown work boots, pants and shirttails
    are splattered with blood.
    He walks towards the precinct house, hands in his pockets, like
    he's out for a stroll.  People on the sidewalk stop on seeing
    him, avoid him.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, RECEIVING LOBBY -- DAY
    Mills and Somerset walk past booking cubicles and benches of
    handcuffed low-lifes.  Junkies are being led through by uniformed
    cops.  The place is swimming with activity.  The two detectives
    head to the wide duty desk at the end of the room.
                                 SOMERSET
                  As soon as this is over, I'm gone.
                                 MILLS
                  Big surprise.
    They pass through a gate and Somerset goes towards a staircase
    leading upstairs.  Mills stops at the duty desk.  Other cops are
    vying for the DUTY SERGEANT'S attention.
                                 MILLS
                  Mills and Somerset are on the premises.
                                 SERGEANT
                  Wonder-fucking-ful.
    Another PLAIN CLOTHES COP behind the duty desk leans over to hold
    out a few phone-message note to Mills.
                                 PLAIN CLOTHES COP
                  Your wife called this morning.  Do us a
                  favor and get yourself an answering
                  machine, how bout it?
    Mills nods and wave dismissively, pocketing the messages without
    looking at them and walking to follow Somerset.
                                 JOHN DOE (o.s.)
                  Detective.
    Mills heads toward the stairs.
                                 JOHN DOE (o.s.)
                  Detective!
    Mills looks back... stops.
    John Doe stands inside the precinct house doors.  He gives a very
    slight smile.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I know you.
    Somerset stops, looks back down the stairs.
    Mills is staring at Doe, not comprehending.
    Doe holds up his arms as if to say, "Presto, here I am."  All
    eyes go to the blood-soaked figure of John Doe.  There comes a
    sudden, near-silence in the room.
    One UNIFORMED COP takes out his gun, points it at John Doe.
                                 UNIFORMED COP
                  It's him!
    Several other cops drop what they're doing and draw weapons.
    Mills, still off balance, takes out his own gun, walking back
    through the gate.  He points the gun at John Doe.
                                 MILLS
                  Get down.  Get down on the floor.
    Cops move slowly in on Doe from all sides.
                                 ANOTHER COP
                  You heard him, fuckface.  Get down!
    Somerset comes back through the gate.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Be careful!
    John Doe gets down on his knees, hands in the air.  Mills, pulse
    pounding, steps up, gun in both hands.  Not too close.
                                 MILLS
                  Down!  Face on the floor!
    ONE COP comes from behind and nudges Doe with his foot.
                                 ONE COP
                  Spread your legs and get your hands out in
                  front of you!
    John Doe lies on his stomach, obeying.  Mills comes up and puts
    his gun right against Doe's head.
                                 MILLS
                  Don't move.  Don't move an inch.
    One cop begins frisking Doe.  Another comes to put on cuffs.
    Somerset comes to Mills' side.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I don't believe it.
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (to Somerset)
                  Hello.
    The cop putting on the handcuffs looks up at Somerset and Mills.
                                 COP
                  What the fuck is this... ?
    The cop holds up Doe's cuffed hands.  Doe winces.  Every single
    one of Doe's fingers has a bandage wrapped around it.
    John Doe tries to muster a smile, his face pressed against the
    floor, glasses askew, gun at his temple.
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (to Mills)
                  I want to speak to my lawyer.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, OBSERVATION ROOM -- DAY
    Mills holds a fingerprint card.  The black ink prints are just
    useless blobs, smeared with blood.
    Mills, Somerset and the Captain stand in darkness.  Mills looks
    up from the print card through a two-way mirror into an
    interrogation room.
    In the interrogation room, John Doe sits, handcuffed to the wall.
    This is not some superhuman serial killer.
    He looks more like an eccentric college professor, not seething
    with anger, but looking around with calm, almost lazy eyes.  The
    lawyer, MARK SWARR, sits taking notes and talking with Doe.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  He cuts off the skin if his fingertips.
                  That's why we can't find a single usable
                  print in the apartment.  He's been doing it
                  for quite a while.  Keeps cutting before
                  the papillary line can grow back.
                                 MILLS
                  What about the trace on his bank account
                  and the guns?  There must be something to
                  connect him with a past.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  So far it's all dead ends.  No credit
                  history.  No employment history.  His bank
                  account's only five years old and it
                  started as cash.  We're even trying to
                  trace his furniture, but for now all we
                  know is he's independently wealth, well
                  educated and totally insane.  We may never
                  know how he got that way.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Because he is John Doe, by choice.
                                 MILLS
                  When do we get to question him?
                                 CAPTAIN
                  You don't.  It goes to court now.
                                 MILLS
                  He wouldn't just turn himself in.  It
                  doesn't make any sense.
    Somerset moves from the window, crossing the room to sit.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Well, there he sits.  It's not supposed to
                  make sense.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He's not finished.
                                 MILLS
                  He's pissing in our faces again and we're
                  just taking it.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  You're wound too tight, Mills.  Let it go.
    The captain walks.  Mills is furious.  He presses his fingers
    against the two-way-mirror, pushes to crack his knuckles loudly.
                                 MILLS
                          (to Somerset)
                  You know he's fucking us.
                                 SOMERSET
                  You and I are, probably for the first time
                  ever, in total agreement.  He wouldn't just
                  stop.
                                 MILLS
                  Well... what the fuck, man?
                                 SOMERSET
                  He's only two murders away from finishing
                  his masterpiece, right?  Can you even
                  conceive of what's going to happen next?  I
                  mean, can you even imagine how he'll try to
                  finish it?
    Mills looks in at John Doe.  Somerset comes to stand beside.
                                 MILLS
                  No.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I can tell you this.  I recognize his
                  lawyer.  His name's Mark Swarr.
    Mills looks at Somerset.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He's the one who got Victor out.
                          (pause)
                  We'll wait for John Doe's plea.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, SOMERSET'S OFFICE -- DAY
    Mills is at the desk, feet up.  He stares at the blackboard.
    1  gluttony (x)      5  wrath
    2  greed (x)         6  pride (x)
    3  sloth (x)         7  lust (x)
    4  envy
    Clock on the wall says 4:45.  Somerset is packing books into
    boxes, preparing for his eventual departure.
    The captain steps into the office and clears his throat, looking
    like there is something making him very unhappy.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, CAPTAIN'S OFFICE -- DAY
    Mills and Somerset stand together.  The captain is behind his
    desk with Martin Talbot, the D.A., seated in front of him.  Mark
    Swarr is addressing them all, seems nervous but in control.
                                 SWARR
                  My client says there are two more bodies...
                  two more victims, hidden away.  He will
                  take Detectives Mills and Somerset to these
                  bodies, but only Detectives Mills and
                  Somerset.  Only at six o'clock today.
    Talbot wipes his moist brow with a handkerchief.
                                 TALBOT
                  Oh, Christ.
                                 MILLS
                  Why us?
                                 SWARR
                  He says he admires you.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to captain)
                  This is all part of his game plan.
                                 SWARR
                  My client claims that if the detectives do
                  not accept this offer, these two bodies
                  will never be found.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Frankly, counselor, I'm inclined to let
                  them rot.
                                 TALBOT
                  We don't make deals, Mr. Swarr.
    Mills gets in Swarr's face.
                                 MILLS
                  How is it working for a scumbag like this?
                  You proud of yourself?
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Ease back, Mills.
                                 SWARR
                  I'm required by law to serve my clients to
                  the best of my ability, and to serve their
                  best interests.
    Mills back off.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  Well, we're going to have to pass.
                                 SWARR
                  My client... he also wishes to inform you,
                  if you do not accept, he will plead
                  insanity, across the board.
                                 TALBOT
                          (to no one in particular)
                  Let him try!  I'd like to see him try!
                                 SWARR
                  Come now, Martin.  We all know, with the
                  extreme nature of these crimes, I could get
                  him off with such a plea.
    Talbot considers this, wringing the handkerchief in his hands.
    Mills looks at Somerset.  Somerset looks at him.
                                 TALBOT
                  I'm not letting this conviction slide, I
                  can tell you that right here and right now!
                                 SWARR
                  He says, if you accept, under his specific
                  conditions, he will sign a full confession
                  and plead guilty... right here, right now.
    Talbot glares at Swarr.
                                 CAPTAIN
                          (to Mills)
                  What do you think?
                                 MILLS
                  I'm in.
                                 SWARR
                  It has to be both of you.
                                 SOMERSET
                  If he were to claim insanity, this
                  conversation is admissible.  The fact that
                  he's blackmailing us with his plea...
                                 SWARR
                  And, my client reminds you, two more are
                  dead.  The press would have a field day if
                  they found out the police didn't seem too
                  concerned about finding them... giving them
                  a proper burial.
                                 SOMERSET
                  If there really are two more dead.
    The captain picks up a sheet from his desk.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  The lab report came up from downtown,  They
                  did a quickie on Doe's clothing and
                  fingernails.  They found blood from Doe,
                  from him cutting his own fingers... there
                  was blood from the woman whose face he cut
                  off, and blood from a third party.  As yet
                  unidentified.
                                 TALBOT
                          (to Somerset)
                  You would be escorting an unarmed man.
    Somerset thinks it over.  He looks to Mills.
                                 MILLS
                  Let's finish it.
    Somerset looks at the floor, then at Swarr.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to the captain)
                  Well... get the fucking lawyer out of the
                  room and we can talk about how this whole
                  thing's going to go down.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, BATHROOM/LOCKER ROOM -- DAY
    Somerset's hand reaches to the sink to pick up a razor.
    Somerset and Mills are at the sinks, looking at themselves in
    mirrors, shirtless.  They have shaving cream spread across their
    chests.  Somerset flicks his cigarette in the sink, then brings
    the razor up to start shaving the hair off his chest.  Mills is
    already doing the same.
                                 SOMERSET
                  If John Doe's head splits open and a U.F.O.
                  flies out, I want you to have expected it.
                                 MILLS
                  I will.
    They continue shaving.
                                 MILLS
                  If I were to accidentally cut off one of my
                  nipple, would that be covered by workman's
                  compensation?
    Somerset smiles just slightly.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I suppose so.
                          (pause)
                  If you were man enough to actually file the
                  claim, I'd buy you a new one out of my own
                  pocket.
    Mills finishes shaving, washes and wipes his chest off with a
    towel.  He turns dead serious.
                                 MILLS
                  Listen, Somerset... I uh...
    Mills pauses, sighs.  Somerset stops shaving and looks at him.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What is it?
                                 MILLS
                  Well, I have to tell you...
                          (pause)
                  I think I've fallen in love with you.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (shakes his head)
                  Slut.
                                 MILLS
                          (laughs, walking out)
                  Kiss me on the lips.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (still shaving)
                  Give me a break.
    INT.  PRECINCT HOUSE, READY ROOM -- DAY
    Somerset and Mills have their shirts open.  A female technician
    tapes a small radio transmitter and microphone to Mills' chest.
    Somerset is already wired up, pressing the adhesive to make sure
    it'll hold.
    The technician finishes prepping Mills.  Somerset buttons up his
    shirt.  The technician packs up her kit, leaving.  The room is
    quiet.  Somerset picks up his bullet-proof vest, slides into it.
    Mills looks at his watch.  He puts on his own vest, fastening it
    tight.  He looks at Somerset.
    Somerset takes out a roll of antacids and pops a few.
    Mills holds out his hand and waits for an antacid.  Somerset
    looks at him, flicks a few into Mills' palm.  Mills chews them.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Stay as cold as ice.
    Somerset picks up his gun off a chair.  Mills picks up his gun.
    They both check them out and close them up.  They lay the guns in
    holsters at the small of their backs.
    They look at each other.  Somerset holds out his hand.  Mills
    shakes it.
    INT.  CITY STREET, PRECINCT HOUSE FRONT -- DAY
    The street is full of shadows as the sun is falling low.  At the
    front of the precinct house, a throng of reporters shifts
    anxiously.  A line of policemen holds them back.
    Martin Talbot steps out of the precinct house, cops on either
    side of him.  The press swarm lurches forward, flashbulbs
    exploding.  Talbot holds out his hands, preparing to speak.
    EXT.  CITY STREET, PRECINCT HOUSE REAR -- DAY
    At the rear of the precinct house, Somerset's car pulls out of
    the fenced in parking lot.  The car speeds up on the street and
    turns a corner, heading into the grim city.
    EXT.  SKYSCRAPER ROOFTOP -- DAY
    California is dressed in full battle gear, looking through
    binoculars to the city below.  The wind blows hard.
    A PILOT, holding two helmets, comes up behind California.  A
    sleek police helicopter sits on the roof's helipad.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Is this wind going to hurt us?
                                 PILOT
                  Just makes the ride more fun.
    The cocky pilot grins.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY
    Somerset is at the wheel.  Mills is in the passenger's seat,
    looking back at John Doe through protective wire mesh.  Doe's in
    the back seat.  His handcuffs are attached to ankle cuffs by a
    length of chain.  He is dressed in gray pants and a gray shirt,
    looking out the window, sweaty but placid.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Who are you, John?  Who are you really?
    John Doe looks to Somerset's eyes in the rearview mirror.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  What do you mean?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I mean, at this point, what would it hurt
                  if you told us a little about yourself?
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (pause)
                  It doesn't matter who I am.  Who I am means
                  absolutely nothing.
                          (looking out, to Somerset)
                  You need to turn left here... at the
                  traffic light.
                                 MILLS
                  Where we headed?
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You'll see.
    Mills looks at Doe for a long time in silence.
                                 MILLS
                  We're not just going to pick up two more
                  bodies, are we, Johnny?  That wouldn't
                  be... shocking enough.  Wouldn't keep you
                  on the front page of the newspapers.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Wanting people to pay attention, you can't
                  just tap them on the shoulder.  You have to
                  hit them in the head with a sledgehammer.
                  Then, you have their strict attention.
                                 MILLS
                  What makes you so special that people
                  should pay attention?
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Not me.  I'm not special.  I'm not
                  exceptional.
                          (pause)
                  This is, though.  What I'm doing.
                                 MILLS
                  I hate to burst your bubble, but other than
                  the fact that you're especially sadistic,
                  there's nothing unusual about these
                  precious murders of yours.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You know that's not true.
                                 MILLS
                  In two months, no one's going to even
                  remember this happened.
    Doe looks down for a moment, then looks up, almost shyly.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You can't see the whole... the whole
                  complete act yet.  Not yet.  But, when this
                  is done, it's going to be... so... so...
                                 MILLS
                  Spit it out.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  It's going to be flawless.  People will
                  barely be able to comprehend it.  It will
                  seem almost surreal... but it will have a
                  tangible reality, so they won't be able to
                  deny it.
    Doe looks down, licking his lips.  He clenches his hands into
    fists, digging his bandaged fingertips into his sweaty palms.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I can't wait for you to see.  I can't
                  wait...
                          (pause, looks to Mills)
                  It's really going to be something.
                                 MILLS
                  Well, I'll be standing beside you the
                  whole time, so you be sure to let me know
                  when this whole, complete reality thing is
                  done.  Wouldn't want to miss it.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Oh, don't worry. You won't...
    INT, POLICE HELICOPTER -- DAY
    The helicopter is in flight above the city.  California is
    strapped in, hanging out the door.  He holds a high powered
    automatic rifle, wears goggles and a helmet/headset.
                                 JOHN DOE (v.o.)
                          (through headset)
                  ... you won't miss a thing.
    Two other armed cops sit in the belly of the chopper.  California
    leans in and looks up towards the pilot.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                          (into helmet microphone)
                  Head over the bridge and keep them in
                  sight.  Just keep your distance.
    The pilot looks back and nods.
    EXT.  CITY SKY -- DAY
    The chopper dips, flying like a bullet over the polluted city,
    heading towards the setting sun.
    EXT.  CITY STREETS -- DAY
    Somerset's car moves along a highway at river's edge.  Heading
    for a huge suspension bridge filled with speeding traffic ahead.
    INT.  SOMERSET'S CAR -- DAY
    John Doe has his head against the window, looking up at the
    bridge, excited.  He sits back, glances out the back window, then
    faces front, bites his lip, fidgety, like a kid on Christmas Eve.
    Somerset's watching him through the rearview mirror.
                                 SOMERSET
                  What's so exciting?
                                 JOHN DOE
                  It's not too far away now.


                    [page 106. missing from script]


                                 JOHN DOE
                          (long pause)
                  I... I doubt I enjoyed it any more than...
                  Detective Mills would enjoy some time alone
                  with me in a room without windows.
                          (looks to Mills)
                  Isn't that true?  How happy would it make
                  you to hurt me, with impunity?
                                 MILLS
                          (coy mocking)
                  Now... I wouldn't do something like that,
                  Johnny.  I like you.  I like you a lot.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You wouldn't because you know there are
                  consequences.  It's in those eyes of yours,
                  though... nothing wrong with a man taking
                  pleasure in his work.
                          (pause, shakes his head)
                  I won't deny my own personal desire to turn
                  each sin against the sinner.  I only took
                  their sins to logical conclusions.
                                 MILLS
                  You only killed a bunch of innocent people
                  so you could get your rocks off.  That's
                  all.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Innocent?  Is that supposed to be funny?
                  Look at the people I killed.  An obese man,
                  a disgusting man who could barely stand
                  up... who if you saw him on the street,
                  you'd point so your friends could mock him
                  along with you.  Who if you saw him while
                  you were eating, you wouldn't be able to
                  finish  your meal.  After him I picked the
                  lawyer.  And, you both must have been
                  secretly thanking me for that one.  This
                  was a man who dedicated his life to making
                  money by lying with every breath he could
                  muster... to keeping rapists and murderers
                  on the streets.
                                 MILLS
                  Murderers?
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (ignoring)
                  A woman...
                                 MILLS
                  Murderers like you?
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (ignoring, louder)
                  A woman... so ugly on the inside that she
                  couldn't bare to go on living if she
                  couldn't be beautiful on the outside.  A
                  drug dealer... a drug dealing pederast,
                  actually.
                          (laughs at that one)
                  And, don't forget the disease spreading
                  whore.  Only in a world this shitty could
                  you even try to say these were innocent
                  people and keep a straight face.
                          (getting worked up)
                  That's the point.  You see a deadly sin on
                  almost every street corner, and in every
                  home, literally.  And we tolerate it.
                  Because it's common, it seems trivial, and
                  we tolerate, all day long, morning, noon
                  and night.  Not anymore.  I'm setting the
                  example, and it's going to be puzzled over
                  and studied and followed, from now on.
                                 MILLS
                  Delusions of grandeur.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You should be thanking me.
                                 MILLS
                  And, why is that?
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You're going to be remembered, and it's all
                  because of me.  And, the only reason I'm
                  here right now is because I wanted to be.
                                 MILLS
                  We would have gotten you eventually.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Really?  Just biding your time, then?
                  Toying with me.  Is that it?  Letting five
                  people die until you finally felt like
                  going out and hauling me in?
    Doe sits forward, slowly getting to Mills.
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (angrily)
                  Tell me what it was that gave me away.
                  What was the piece of evidence you were
                  going to use against me right before I
                  walked up to YOU and put my hands in the
                  air.
                                 MILLS
                  I seem to remember knocking on your
                  door.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  And, I remember breaking your nose.
                         (leans further forward)
                  You're only alive because I didn't
                  kill you.
                                 MILLS
                  Sit back.
    John Doe doesn't sit back, staying very close to the wire mesh.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I spared you, and you're going to have to
                  remember that every time you look in the
                  mirror at that nose on your face for the
                  rest of your life.  Or, I should say, for
                  the rest of what life I've allowed you to
                  have.
    Mills slams his fist against the mesh, fed up, furious.
                                 MILLS
                  I said, sit back, freak.  Sit back and shut
                  your fucking mouth!
    Die sits back, taking a deep breath and letting it out.
    In the front seat, Somerset shoots a concerned glance at Mills,
    then looks up into the rearview mirror.
    IN THE MIRROR: Doe, calm, gives Somerset a smile.
    Doe then turns his attention back out the passenger window,
    watching the world pass by, his face pressed to the glass.
    Mills sits forward in his seat, letting his anger come down.  Doe
    keeps staring out the window.  A long pause.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Don't ask me to pity the people I killed.
                  I don't mourn them anymore than I mourn the
                  thousands who died in Sodom and Gomorrah.
    Mills almost lets this pass, but can't.  Blunted anger:
                                 MILLS
                  You fuck.  You really think what you did
                  was God's good work?
    Pause.  John Doe is pressing his forefinger into the tip of his
    thumb, causing blood to drip from under the bandage.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  The Lord works in mysterious ways.
    EXT.  SKY -- EARLY EVENING
    The helicopter flies over huge, blackened industrial parks, past
    smokestacks spewing soot.  The sky is turning crimson.
    INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING
    California leans way out looking back at the city.
    EXT.  INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset's car comes down this rocky, deserted strip, towards the
    industrial parks.  The car tosses dirt into the air where it is
    captured on the wind.
    EXT.  SKY -- EARLY EVENING
    The chopper roars, low, close to the stretch of industrial road.
    This is the only road through vast swampy fields.  The industrial
    parks are far behind.
    INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING
    California still leans out, gun poised, looks over the fields.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  There ain't no ambush out here.  There
                  ain't no fucking nothing out here.
                                 PILOT (v.o.)
                          (through headset)
                  We got about two minutes before they come
                  up behind us.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Go high.  Way up.  In sixty seconds, cut to
                  the west.
    EXT.  SKY -- EARLY EVENING
    The chopper climbs, really moving.
    EXT.  INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset's car comes down the road, surrounded by marshlands.
    The car slows, then stops.  Mills gets out and goes to extract
    Doe.  Somerset gets out, looking east to the industrial parks and
    city beyond.  The sky is darkening.
    Somerset walks and looks to the west.  The sky is red.  Very far
    away, a passenger train moves towards the hidden sun.
    Somerset watches the train, walking to the edge of the roadway.
    He looks down and steps back from what he sees.
    A dead dog lies in the weeds, old and moldering.
    Somerset turns to the car, where John Doe stands with Mills.  Doe
    points with his cuffed hands to the dog, grins.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I didn't do that.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING
    The wind howls, pounding on John Doe as he walks through the
    swampy field.  He walks slowly, encumbered by the deep muck and
    by the short chain between his ankles.  Mills is with Doe,
    disgusted by the ooze covering his shoes and pants cuffs.  He
    looks ahead, cautious.  Somerset walks behind them.
    Doe keeps looking back towards the car on the industrial road.
                                 MILLS
                  What are you looking for?
    Doe looks forward.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  What time is it?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Why?
    Somerset looks at his watch.  It's one minutes after seven.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I want to know.
    Mills gives Doe a shove.
    Somerset looks back towards the industrial road, worried.
                                 MILLS
                  Just keep leading the way.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  It's close.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Mills!
    Mills and Doe look back at Somerset.  Somerset is facing the
    industrial road, pointing.  A van is coming, dust flying.
    Somerset looks at Mills.  Mills looks at Somerset.  They take out
    their guns.  Somerset starts towards the road.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Stay with him.
                                 MILLS
                  Wait!
                                 SOMERSET
                  There's no time to discuss it!
    Somerset runs to head off the van.
    John Doe begins walking to follow Somerset.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  There he goes.
    Mills levels his gun at John Doe's head.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS, NEAR INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING 
    Somerset runs, breathing hard, opening the top of his
    bullet-proof vest to speak into his hidden microphone.
                                 SOMERSET
                  There's a van... coming down the industrial
                  road.  Coming from the east.
    INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING
    The chopper is circling in the air, far from the marshlands with
    the sun behind it.  Another cop is in the hatchway beside
    California, looking through binoculars.
                                 SOMERSET (v.o.)
                          (from headset)
                  The van is coming form the east.  I don't
                  know what it is.  Come around.  Come
                  around.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS, NEAR INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset continues, charging through the mire.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Just get ready for anything and wait for my
                  signal.  Wait for me.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills keeps the gun on John Doe, watches Somerset far off.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  It's good we have some time to talk.
    Doe starts walking again.
                                 MILLS
                  Get down.  Get down on your knees!
    Mills grabs Doe and pushes Doe's knees out with his foot, making
    Doe kneel in the brown water.
    Mills positions himself behind Doe so that Doe is between him and
    the road.  Now, Mills can keep the gun on Mills and still watch
    Somerset.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset comes up on the road, near his car.  He signals for the
    van to stop, then fires a warning shot in the air.  The van is
    about one hundred yards away, still coming.
    Somerset walks towards it, breathless, pointing his gun.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Stop the van!  Stop!
    The van brakes, wheels sliding on the loose roadway.  Stops.
    Somerset moves up to it, staying about ten feet away.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Get out!  Get out with your hands on your
                  head!  Do it now!
    The driver of the van, a DELIVERYMAN, pushes the door open and
    slides out, slow, takes off his sunglasses.
                                 DELIVERYMAN
                  Jesus Christ, man, don't shoot me!
                                 SOMERSET
                  Turn around.  Hands on your head!
                                 DELIVERYMAN
                  What the hell's going on?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Who are you?  What are you doing out here?
                                 DELIVERYMAN
                  I'm... I'm just delivering a package.
    INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING
    California listens as the chopper spins over industrial parks.
                                 DELIVERYMAN (v.o.)
                          (through headset)
                  It's just a package for this guy... David.
                  Detective David Mills.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  Motherfucker.
    The pilot looks back at California.
                                 PILOT
                  Let's do it.
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  No!  Wait for Somerset!
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills and Doe can see Somerset keeping his distance from the
    deliveryman.  The deliveryman moves to the back of the van and
    opens the van's rear door.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  When I said I admired you... I meant what I
                  said.  I do admire you.
    Mills keeps his eyes on the van, but steps up to place his gun at
    the back of Doe's head.  Pulls the hammer back.
                                 MILLS
                  Shut up.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    The deliveryman takes a brown package, about a foot square, from
    the van.
                                 DELIVERYMAN
                  This guy paid me five hundred bucks to
                  bring it out here.  He wanted it here at
                  exactly seven o'clock.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Put it down.  Put it on the ground.
                                 DELIVERYMAN
                  Okay...
    He puts it on the road and backs away, holding up his hands.
    Somerset glances into the field to see Doe on his knees with
    Mills behind him.  Somerset looks at the package.  Written on
    top: DETECTIVE DAVID MILLS -- HANDLE WITH CARE.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to deliveryman)
                  Go.  Get out of here!
    The deliveryman backs off, then scrambles into the van.  Somerset
    pulls back his bullet-proof vest and speaks into the mic.
                                 SOMERSET
                  There's a package here.  It's from John Doe.
    The van tears away.  Somerset doesn't know what to do.  He walks
    around the package, reholsters his gun.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I don't know... I don't know...
    He looks out towards Doe and Mills.
    INT.  HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING
    California waits, listening, looking into the blood-red sky.
                                 SOMERSET (.o.)
                          (through headset)
                  I'm going to have to open it.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills watches Somerset kneel beside the package on the road.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I wish I could have been a normal man like
                  you.  I wish I could have a simple life.
                                 MILLS
                  What the fuck is going on here?!
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset pulls his switchblade, clicks it open.
    He cuts across the top of the box, hands shaking, cuts quickly.
    He pulls the box open, pulls at some bubble-wrap inside.
    INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING
    The pilot grits his teeth.
                                 PILOT
                          (into helmet mic)
                  Let's go!
                                 CALIFORNIA
                  We are going to wait!
    California listens.
                                 SOMERSET (v.o.)
                          (through headset)
                  Oh, Christ... oh Christ...
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset stumbles backwards, away from the open box.  He is white
    as a sheet, eyes filled with numb fear.  He leans against his car
    for support, wretches, sick, holds the back of his hand to his
    mouth.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No...
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills is watching Somerset, grabs John Doe by the shirt.
                                 MILLS
                  Get up.  Stand up!  Let's go!
    Doe stands, tries to walk.  Mills is walking quickly, towards
    Somerset.  Doe can't keep up.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You've made a good life for yourself...
                                 MILLS
                  Shut up!
    Doe falls and Mills starts dragging him through the reeds.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS, INDUSTRIAL ROAD -- EARLY EVENING
    Somerset wipes saliva from his lips and tears from his eyes.  He
    takes a deep breath, looks to see Mills dragging Doe.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Oh, fuck, no...
    Somerset straightens, tries to pull himself together.  He
    swallows, draws his gun.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (into hidden mic)
                  Listen... listen to me.  Whatever you do...
                  don't come in here.  Stay away.  No matter
                  what you hear, do not move in!
                          (starts towards Mills)
                  John Doe has the upper hand.
    Somerset picks up his switchblade and flips the blade back in.
    He enters the marsh.
    EXT.  MARSHLANDS -- EARLY EVENING
    Mills sees Somerset coming and pulls Doe so that Doe stands.
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (quietly, watching)
                  Here he comes.
                                 MILLS
                          (shouts to Somerset)
                  What the fuck is going on?
                                 JOHN DOE
                          (to Mills)
                  I want you to know, I wish I could have
                  lived like you do.
    Somerset starts running towards Mills, mud splattering.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Mills... put down your gun!  Throw it away!
    Mills leaves Doe behind, walks towards Somerset, gun down.
                                 MILLS
                  What?
    Somerset is fifty yards away and closing.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Throw your gun down now!
                                 MILLS
                  What are you talking about?  What happened?
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Are you listening to me, Detective Mills?
                  I'm trying to tell you how much I admire
                  you... and your pretty wife Tracy.
    Mills freezes, turns to Doe.  Doe smiles.  Somerset is close.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Throw your weapon, detective!  Now!
                                 MILLS
                          (to John Doe)
                  What did you say?
                                 JOHN DOE
                  It's surprising how easily a member of the
                  press can purchase information from the men
                  in your precinct.
                                 SOMERSET
                  David... please...
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I visited your home this morning, after you
                  left.
    Mills is filled with an aching terror.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  I tried to play husband... tried to taste
                  the life of a simple man, but it didn't
                  work out. So, I took a souvenir.
    Mills turns to look at Somerset with pleading eyes.  Somerset
    holds out his hand.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Give me the gun.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Her pretty head.
                                 MILLS
                  Somerset...
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Because I envy your normal life.  Envy is
                  my sin.
    Somerset can't hold back tears.
    Fury rises in Mill and he turns to level his gun at John Doe.
    Somerset raises his gun and points it at Mills.
                                 SOMERSET
                  No!
    Mills sees Somerset's gun, raises his gun to Somerset.
                                 MILLS
                  Tell me it's not true.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I can't let you do this...
    Mills steps forward, enraged.
                                 MILLS
                  Put your gun down!!
                                 SOMERSET
                  Don't do this... please...
                                 MILLS
                  Put the gun down, Somerset!
    A pause.  Somerset's gun hand is trembling.  The wind whips
    across them.  The HELICOPTER can be HEARD distantly.  Somerset
    throws his gun down.
                                 SOMERSET
                  David, listen to me...
    Mills goes to grab John Doe by the throat and puts the gun to
    Doe's forehead, blind with rage.
    Somerset holds his hand behind his back, opens his switchblade.
                                 SOMERSET
                  He wants this!  He wants you to do it!
    Doe is staring into Mills' eyes with wild expectation.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  Kill me.
    Doe lowers his head, waiting for execution.
    Mills holds the gun at Doe's head, undecided, furious.
    Somerset edges towards them.
                                 MILLS
                          (looks to Somerset)
                  Stop it!  You stay away!
    Somerset moves the switchblade so he's holding it by the blade,
    ready to throw, keeping it hidden.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I can't let you do this!
    Mills kicks Doe and throws him backwards on the ground.  The
    HELICOPTER is CLOSER.
    Mills stands over Doe and points the gun.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  She begged for her life, and for the life
                  of your baby inside her.
    Mills' face fills with confusion -- then a wave of horror.
    Doe's eyes register shock.
                                 JOHN DOE
                  You didn't know.
                                 SOMERSET
                  NO!
    Somerset brings his hand out to throw the blade, but Mills reacts
    to the movement, turns on Somerset and fires -- BLAM!
    Somerset flies backwards in the air, bullet exploding into his
    shoulder, just above the bullet-proof vest's opening.
    Somerset hits the ground, crying out, bloody, writhing.
    Mills turns the gun on John Doe.
    INT.  POLICE HELICOPTER -- EARLY EVENING
    The chopper is over the marshland.  California is leaning out
    with his rifle.  He cringes from the sounds as FROM HIS HEADSET
    is HEARD:  BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM -- BLAM.
    INSERT -- TITLE CARD
    TWO WEEKS LATER
    INT.  HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY
    Somerset sits in a wheelchair.  He is dressed in a hospital gown.
    His upper chest and shoulder are wrapped in bandages.  He stares
    out the window at the city's buildings.
                                 CAPTAIN (o.s)
                  Hey there, Somerset.
    Somerset turns to see the captain.  Somerset looks weak, older.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Hello.
    The captain walks in, carrying something behind his back.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  How you feeling?
                                 SOMERSET
                  I can breathe without pain now, so I guess
                  I feel great.
    Somerset musters a lame smile.  The captain sits on the bed.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  The guys at the precinct heard you're
                  getting out today.  Anyway, we all chipped
                  in...
    The captain takes a big tool belt full of tools from behind his
    back.  He hands it over.  Somerset looks at it and lays it on his
    lap.  He smiles for real.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Thank you.  Tell them, thank you.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  We figure you need all the tools you can
                  get to fix up that piece of shit you call a
                  house.
                                 SOMERSET
                  Yeah, that's true.
    Somerset continues examining the tools.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  They're hoping you stop and say goodbye
                  before you go, but I told them not to
                  expect it.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (not looking up)
                  It would be too hard.
    The captain stands.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  I have to get going, but... there is one
                  more thing.
    Somerset looks up.  The captain takes a letter from his pocket.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  I don't know if you're going to want it.
                  It was down front.  It's from Mills.
    Somerset pauses, then puts out his hand to take it.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  He's being arraigned tomorrow.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I read about it in the paper.
    Somerset just looks at the letter.
                                 CAPTAIN
                  I guess... decide for yourself.  I don't
                  know what it says.  I'm going to go.
                                 SOMERSET
                  I'll see you.
    The captain nods and walks into the hall.
    Somerset wheels back to the window.  He looks at the letter.
    Pause.  He opens it.  Unfolds the paper inside.
    The note reads:
    YOU WERE RIGHT.  YOU WERE
    RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.
    Somerset closes the note, upset.
    INT.  HOSPITAL, MAIN NURSES' STATION -- DAY
    Somerset is in street clothes.  He signs a form at the busy front
    desk.  A NURSE takes the form and hands Somerset a large manila
    envelope.
                                 NURSE
                  There you go, Mister Somerset.
    "Mister" causes Somerset to look strangely at the nurse.
                                 NURSE
                  Yes?
                                 SOMERSET
                  Nothing.
    EXT.  HOSPITAL -- DAY
    Somerset comes down the stairs, slowly, tired.  He holds the
    manila envelope and a small suitcase.  The streets are busy with
    pedestrians and traffic.
    He walks down the sidewalk.
    He puts down the suitcase and opens the manila envelope to look
    inside.  He sorts through the contents, takes out his keys and
    puts them in his pocket.
    He reaches in the envelope again, and takes out the square of
    wallpaper with the pale, red rose on it.  There is some dried
    blood on the paper.  Somerset lays the envelope on the ground
    beside the suitcase.
    He looks at the rose, tries to scratch off the blood.
    He looks up, squinting from the sun, at the city bustling around
    him.  At the tight canyon formed by the buildings.
    At the cars, buses and taxis racing in the streets.
    At a man, talking to himself, who lies on the sidewalk,
    surrounded by garbage.
    At the people, miserable people, walking past him.
    Somerset takes out the note from Mills: YOU WERE RIGHT.  YOU WERE
    RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.
    A father passes by, holding his young son's hand.  Somerset turns
    to watch them pass.  The father reaches to pick the son up and
    carry him in his arms.  The boy laughs and holds tight.
    The father hugs his son to him, kisses him on the cheek.  The boy
    returns the kiss with great affection.
    Somerset watches them disappear in the mass of humanity.  He
    looks back at the two papers in his hands.  He lets out a sigh.
                                 SOMERSET
                          (to himself)
                  Oh... man...
    He sighs again, drained.
    He puts the pale paper rose inside the note from Mills.  He folds
    them together.
    He tears them both up, into little pieces.
    EXT.  PRECINCT HOUSE -- DAY
    Cars roll by in the street.  Cops come and go.
    Somerset walks up the stairs, into the precinct house.  The doors
    shut behind him.


    END
Advertisement