Andrew+Mosquera's+Unfamiliar+Genre+Project+Final+Draft

The formatting is intact in the word document. It looks more like a script. TO A TIME WHEN TRUTH EXISTS A Modern Private Investigator’s Drama “That There: That’s Not Me”

CAST Agustin Bamonte, Part Time Private Eye Rosalind Durn, secretary to Bamonte Sustainable Social Relations Inquiry Research Firm Lillian McClellan, Assistant Director of Technologies at WGHP Port Huron Violette Smith, Office Assistant II at PH Police Department

Dr. Anthony Nervo, biologist at Joshua Goeldstak Huron Institute Mrs. Margaret Harrowdown-Nervo Alice Barrow, acquaintance of Anthony Dr. Nathan Magpie, associate to Anthony at Huron Institute Adam Nervo, brother Tony Nervo Jr. Jeff Brady Travis Children News Stand Clerk Adam McDonnell Priest (2) Detectives Examiner

SETS INTERIORS Bamonte Sustainable Social Relations Inquiry Research Firm Office Nervo’s Office at Goeldstak Huron Institute The House of Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Nervo A Classroom Bamonte’s Apartment Lillian’s Office Mr. Jones’s Lakside Tavern The House of Brady Travis Port Huron Police Department PHPD Morgue

EXTERIORS Pine Grove Ave. News stand Pine Grove Park Lakeside 2003 Ford Taurus Brady’s Car Scrap Yard Lake Nepessing Church Parking Lot TEASER FADE IN 1. INT. HOUSE - DAY.

It is an uncommonly cold afternoon. This is an American Foursquare style house. The camera trails a sequence of household items emitting steam in each room and finds MARGARET Harrowdown-Nervo. She paces the room listening intently to her cell phone.

MARGARET (shaken) Hello? Hello? Oh, hi, Jane… Yeah… How… How are you?... I was just w-wondering if you had heard from Tony at all?... No… no big research, last— last he told me… Uh huh… Not Frank either? No no no. It’s all right… Thanks… No, it’s all right.

TIGHT ON her eyes, teary.

FADE TO   2. INT. THE SAME - LATER

CLOSE ON Margaret facing out window. A typical grey overcast cold Michigan day. She still has the cell phone to her ear but she is sitting now.

TIGHT ON the side of her face with cell phone clenched tightly. PHONE (faint recording) We’re sorry the number you have dialed…

She hangs up abruptly with a curse. Her CHILDREN arrive from the front door. Margaret’s eyes move rapidly about. CHILD (o.s)   Mom! When’s dad coming back from his trip? FADE TO   3. INT. THE SAME - EVENING Margaret sits before the window as before. A Television buzzes off screen. She still clutches the phone.

TIGHT ON her weary face. An empty expression. CLOSE ON her phone as she scrolls through a list of contacts. SCROLL (actual phone screen): //Hamilton// //Mike, Harry, Humbert (school), Huron Life Insurance, Inglewood Priory, Iris…// CLOSE ON: Margaret thinks//.// Got it! PAN: follows Margaret as she turns to the desk behind her and retrieves a tattered Yellow Pages. She flips through ravenously, finds it, dials a number. FADE OUT END OF TEASER

Play opening credits to the tune of “Alone in the Town” by Akira Yamaoka.

FADE IN   4. EXT. STOREFRONT PINE GROVE AVE – AFTERNOON SAME DAY

FAR SHOT: Detective BAMONTE walks down the store front towards camera. He wears a trench coat with his signature black //chapeau// and scarf. He is a tall plain man, possibly more attractive in his thirties than his despondency gives recognition to. Through the worry worn edges of his face there is the trace of inheritance of the idealist madmen of the //picarescos// of his ancestry. Passersby scurry with faces downcast. V.O. (Bamonte) Another cold sad day here on the lakes… Everyone running away, avoiding any kind of eye contact that would make them stop for a minute in this weather. A whole city minding its own damn business.

CLOSE ON: Bamonte stops at a newsstand. The CLERK is barricaded in glass and other materials to block out the cold. He does not look up only shoves a paper under his glass after Bamonte passes three dollars through. CLOSE ON newspaper headlines. SCROLL (paper): “February 20th, 2025: Renewable Energy Interchange Still Michigan’s New Life Blood.” PAN as Bamonte, pockets newspaper, lights a cigarette, and turns again down the street.

V.O. (Bamonte) Why am I looking for work here in Port Huron? A town that was once an abandoned shipping nexus with nothing but pubs has overtaken Detroit in her former glory. The new economic center. And as time can tell: with prosperity comes a whole lot of dirty secrets. SHARP ON Bamonte. A fog of smoke clings about his tired, determined face, soldier like, and is wisped away by the harsh lake winds.

V.O. (Bamonte) That’s where my job comes in… Sirens blast off screen nearby.

SMASH CUT to
 * 1) INT. Bamonte’s CLASSROOM – EARLIER (it may be assumed)

The raucous horde of adolescents overpowers the preceding noise as Bamonte enters, briefcase in hand. Their riot eases by half its energy. V.O. (Bamonte) Well, this is my //other// job. My real work? Well let’s just say “confidential” business.

STUDENT 1 (the class clown) Hey, Senor B, did you have to shoot any gangsters last night?

STUDENT 2 (Has a crush on the teacher) Yeah, Senor B, tell us how you figured out your last case. You never told us what happened.

V.O. (Bamonte) (Smiling) Yes, indeed. The most rewarding most selfless profession. My true calling. P.O.V. of Bamonte as he scans the classroom, detecting evidence for classroom blackmail.

BAMONTE So, Jeff, I don’t see your draft on your desk. What happened?

PAN as classroom settles down to a low murmur. Some students forage through desks in vain. JEFF (Caught messing around. Outraged) Senor B! Half the class is missing their paper! Don’t just single //me// out! V.O. (Bamonte) I wanted to say: “Assault and Battery One with Negligent Intent. We are willing to plea bargain… Only if you give us names!” BAMONTE You mean to tell me only half of you finished your first draft of your 7 Billion Good Works paper? STUDENT 2 (near tears) But, Senor B… I… just… couldn’t think of… nothing to write…

V.O. (Bamonte) I wanted to say: “Indeed, no surprise from your generation…” But ours is a more subtle profession.

SLOW PAN from TONY NERVO JR., very sullen cursing under his breath, across two columns of desks to GIRLFRIEND, with characteristic unpleasant contortion of face. V.O. (Bamonte) I take pity on guys like these. BAMONTE (Facetious) Tony, you know I have sharp hearing. I am offended by what you’re saying back there! TONY JR. (Tired) Whatever, Mister Bamonte. I’m sorry I just didn’t do anything… I—   BAMONTE (Reassuring) Don’t worry, young man. Don’t sweat it, young ones…

CLOSE ON Tony Jr. ZOOM out slowly. V.O. (Bamonte) What I wanted to say was: “Lady problems, again, Mr. B-Ball champ?” But, unfortunately we can’t dabble in the “personal business” of our “young clients” even if it doesn’t even take not even the most insipient fan of Law and Order to deduct the problems and solutions that affect our children’s real lives…

CLOSE ON Girlfriend casting mean glances towards Tony Jr. and gossiping cruelties to her friend. V.O. (Bamonte) No, you can’t fool me, young lady. What with your icicles for eyelashes and the frost about your cheeks you’ve probably won this young man a free intervention program… And there it is, just as it is every day… The root of all evil… the bane of mankind… the overarching motive for all of my investigations: Woman.

SMASH CUT to

6. INT. OFFICE RECEPTION – EVENING

CLOSE ON Margaret’s worry worn teary eyed face that replaces the frigid frown of the girlfriend.

V.O. (Bamonte) Yes. Woman. Seventy per cent of my clients are women and the other thirty percent are investigating women. I’ve seen the most sinister of public fraud trace back to a woman’s motive… This one, though, I don’t know…

CUT to

7. INT. BAMONTE’S OFFICE – EVENING

Bamonte sits at his desk, pours a drink, skims the newspaper, lights a cigarette and cross checks other files, while a conversation is eventually heard muffled beyond the door to the receptionist.

V.O. (Bamonte) This is my real job. Yes, this ain’t no silly TV show. I work as a Private Investigator. PI, they say. Of course it’s only a part time gig. PIs are a thing of the past, but only insofar as our citizens became more and more complacent with letting criminals defraud their cities and letting employers embezzle their money. The economy turning around gives me a little more opportunity but, hell, the city won’t let me call a Sam Spade a Sam Spade.

CUT to outside of office, reading plaque on the door: //Bamonte Sustainable Social Relations Inquiry Research Firm Office//

V.O. (Bamonte) I had to rent out this office under some bogus pretext… I hate that plaque…

CUT to   8. INT. RECEPTION – SAME

ROSALIND DURN is seated behind a mountain of papers and a laptop, regarding Mrs. Nervo with distrust. They speak under the voice over.

V.O. (Bamonte) So all of my cases have to be refilled into some hooey statistical analysis or they boot me out… Those beaurocrats can’t appreciate real effective work… That’s where this sweetheart here with the heart of a Labrador but the bark of a Rottweiler… That’s where she, Miss Durn, comes in.

ROSALIND I guess I just don’t understand what it is you are looking for Mrs…?

MARGARET My name is Margaret Nervo, I know Mr. Ba—

CLOSE on Bamonte from behind the door. He thinks he knows the voice and the name.

ROSALIND (Used to dismissing bothersome “clients”.) All acquaintances aside, Mrs. Nervo. Mr. Bamonte is a very busy man and there are high priority cases in his care. You’re going to have to come up with more of a…

CLOSE on Margaret whose tears stream down. She looks up as the door is heard to open. Bamonte enters.

BAMONTE (Smilingly chiding) Rosie, sweetheart, what’s the matter here? Go easy on my clients now. You brought this poor lady into tears. You don’t work for Billionaire Taylor anymore, sweetheart! (to Margaret) You see, I was lucky to get the state’s best call screening secretary from a real dog-eat-dog office. We don’t do that here though.

MARGARET (There is some past beneath her words.) Gus, I need your help. V.O. (Bamonte) (This past pertains to him.) I wish she wouldn’t call me that. He leads her into his office. Winks at Rosalind as she passes through.

BAMONTE Margie, It’s been a while… I suppose we can catch up on old times after we finish with business.

CUT to   9. INT. BAMONTE’s OFFICE – SAME

They sit.

MARGARET I can’t find my husband. I mean: I don’t know where he is.

BAMONTE How long has it been now?

MARGARET A week. Over a week. Seven days. Last I saw him was last Monday, going to work. He… BAMONTE (a mixture of emotions: between the opening of an old wound of melancholy and the scrambling through time-eroded memory for the obvious conclusion to the case.) An old fashioned missing person’s case?

MARGARET I guess… I mean I really hope so… You don’t think he could be… (she loses it) Oh, Gus! I really need you right now. Please help me…

Bamonte refills his glass. MARGARET We were once so close, but now I need you… need your great friendship again.

He promptly swallows the contents.

V.O. (Bamonte) Yeah, we were close once before, but now we are far apart. Very far. You know, I needed you once before too, but you…

BAMONTE Certainly, Margaret, certainly. I’m here to help. It’s my job now.

V. O. (Bamonte) I always say the mean stuff just in my head. BAMONTE (Refills his glass) Are the police on the case? MARGARET No… I think not… I wanted to see you first… You know how the police are these days. There’ve been such strange things happening at the Institute—

BAMONTE (Now we got a real case.) The Goeldstak institute? Is that where Anthony works now? I’ve been following that place for some time and I know what you’re saying.

He looks off. He sets down his glass and paces the room. He catches Margaret’s tearful eyes. He looks around distractedly. He takes up his glass and succumbs to the flood of emotion.

BAMONTE (Appreciatively compassionate or cruelly ironic?) Anthony at the institute… big family going to good schools… Nice house in the prosperous city. Things must have been going well for you… well, until… today.

CLOSE ON Margaret as she leaps from her chair to embrace Bamonte. She weeps without words.

BAMONTE (The old tenderness exudes.) Don’t worry now, Margie. I will help you. I will help you. Give me a night to check all of this out. Just give me tonight to wrap up some things and I’ll investigate this case top priority. He can’t have gone far, darling. He can’t have gone too far away, darling.

CLOSE ON Bamonte’s worn face. The lines of age and rivulets of alcohol are traced by the camera. The emotion on his face fades into stone.

FADE OUT.

10. INT. BAMONTE’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

CLOSE ON another glass being poured. V.O. (Bamonte) Like I said. Woman… the root of all evil.

ZOOM OUT to Bamonte at desk looking over documents and talking on the phone. There are the signs of organized chaos in Bamonte’s study.

BAMONTE (On phone, irritated.) No, baby, I can’t just look it up, because, like I told you one hundred times, I don’t have a computer!

CUT TO

11. INT. OFFICE OF LILLIAN MCCLELLAN – SAME

LILLIAN sits before the glow of the screens of the latest technology. While on the phone she navigates the seas of hyperspace two or three at a time with relative ease, with the exception of momentary distractions.

LILLIAN Ugh! When are you gonna give up your silly stone age kick, Monty?!

V.O. (Bamonte) I wish she wouldn’t call me that.

LILLIAN (searching) Anthony Nervo, huh? Why do doctors always have such creepy names? Nervo. Like a neurosurgeon or something? Nervo Pervo! My gynecologist’s name is Makalahaki. You know what he said a—

Lillian silently mocks what she hears. BAMONTE (over phone) I didn’t call so you could fill me in on your feminine health, Lilly. Just shoot me what you can, baby. V.O. (Bamonte) My great discovery about women? 100% true, yes. But, I have to admit that all of my life after that discovery has involved finding exceptions to that rule. Lillian McClellan. Lillian has a heart of gold and an attention span of… well, the length of one those microchips in her phone. I couldn’t ever handle the storm of technologies that make our job “so much easier”. Ha! She helps me out a ton on that end. BAMONTE I’m looking for critical papers, breakthrough studies, promotions, or demerits: anything that looks like he’s got enemies.

LILLIAN (Playing dumb) You mean you don’t want to get in touch with his friends and get a Facebook search party going?

CUT TO Bamonte, rubbing his face in aggravation.

BAMONTE No, baby… no Facebook search parties, please. The cops aren’t even on this one yet.

LILLIAN Really? Doesn’t that sound strange?

BAMONTE (His face betrays him.) No… not really. Hey, thanks again, baby. Call me anytime. Good night.

LILLIAN (Didn’t hear that.) You’re pretty up on this case, Monty. This Marge lady really got you working. Do you guys know each other? Beat. There was a fling wasn’t there! Oh! Don’t fib, Monty—

BAMONTE Yeah, what? Huh? You’re breaking up, baby… Okay, well, call me. Bye.

He hangs up the phone. He pours a drink and begins to finger through his filing cabinet.

V.O. (Bamonte) A fling huh? Well, another thing about Lillian. She finds out a lot in those brief moments of attention. Yes, a fling, I guess.

He finds a photograph attached to a letter.

V.O. (Bamonte) There she is. That girl really did me in good, back in the day.

FLASHBACK to

12. EXT. LAKESIDE – NIGHT

Two silhouetted figures along a lakeside at night. They face each other for a moment, then the female turns abruptly and walks off. The male figure remains frozen.

DISSOLVE back to Bamonte at his desk.

V.O. (Bamonte) Well, that’s another episode of another drama. Can’t let all that get in the way of business.

FADE OUT

13. EXT. PINE GROVE PARK – DAWN

ESTABLISHING SHOT of the park. Only the most gung-ho of joggers are seen apart from Bamonte standing beside a bench.

CLOSE ON Bamonte who looks out at the distance. He lights a cigarette and rubs his hands to keep warm.

V.O. (Bamonte) Saturday is my day off. I should be sleeping in right now.

LONG SHOT of Violette Smith walking at a leisurely pace down the trail. She is well bundled but as she approaches her caring face is visible after her generous figure.

V.O. (Bamonte) Here’s a fine exception to the law of woman. Violette Smith has helped me immensely. Never any trouble with her.

VIOLETTE Good morning, Agustin.

V.O. (Bamonte) She says it right. With the “een” at the end and everything, but I still wish she wouldn’t call me that. The original Spanish sounds funny from the mouth of our Anglo-Saxons.

BAMONTE Well, good morning to you too, love. Only I wish we didn’t have to meet at the dead of day.

VIOLETTE (concerned) Oh, I’m so sorry. I hope you got enough rest! We can talk ano—

BAMONTE Don’t worry, love. I’m just impressed that you walk here every morning.

VIOLETTE Oh, but it’s so beautiful. I have to so I can ease away all of the work from yesterday. You know how everyone at the precinct has been so stressed lately.

BAMONTE (Must keep a bit of distance between his State competition.) Right. I don’t know much about this latest scandal but I hope it all gets resolved.

VIOLETTE Yes, I know I’m only an office assistant but we are pushed the most at the bottom at times like these.

BAMONTE (Always needing a safe entry.) So, I was wondering if you could help me with a new case. I think it may have some connection to these dealings with the Goeldstak institute.

VIOLETTE Oh, really! I hope I can help you. I hope you can help us all figure this whole thing out. The case of that reporter being shot… that unexplained river bank full of dead wildlife… two cases of vanishing people… all somehow related.

BAMONTE I think we might have a third missing person, love.

VIOLETTE (Her compassion is instant.) Oh, no! That’s terrible.

BAMONTE Yes. It is. His poor wife came to me yesterday.

VIOLETTE The poor thing. It must be terrible for her.

BAMONTE Yes. Terrible. So much so that she didn’t even go to the police yet.

VIOLETTE Oh, dear. She really should. She should… I could write up a report for our detec—

BAMONTE No, no, love. I think she wants to know a little bit before we can get her to trust the police. You see. Her husband works at the Institute.

VIOLETTE Oh dear. I can understand her, I suppose. But what can I do?

BAMONTE Please, love, if we’re going to help this woman (she’s an old friend of mine, by the way.) if we’re going to help her I just need you to keep me up to date on anything the police uncover.

VIOLETTE Sure, anything you want to know.

V.O. (Bamonte) There’s an angel. Always so helpful. Never any trouble… well, except sometimes…

VIOLETTE I just don’t want to reveal anything confidential or withhold anything to could help out our officers, you know…

V.O. (Bamonte) …Except sometimes, along with her immense compassion comes an impenetrable moral code.

BAMONTE No, need to worry, love. Just tell me what you see going on. You know I only ever help our trusty detectives. I couldn’t help them like I do if you didn’t always keep me one step ahead of the game.

ZOOM OUT AND FADE OUT as they walk down the path.

END OF ACT ONE

14. INT. INSTITUTE – AFTERNOON. **OMITTED**

// The detective browses the institute in search of Nervo’s office but cannot find any trace of his presence there. //

15. INT. BAR – EVENING **OMITTED**

// The detective meets with Alice Barrow for some information about Anthony. It is understood that the two shared a love interest for a time. Was this only in the past? //

16. INT. BAR – NIGHT **OMITTED**

// Lillian meets with the detective and presents her research. She notes similarly the general erasure of Dr. Nervo’s presence at the institute. Her insight to social networking reveals his interest in family, John Wayne films, fishing, hunting, and camping. Lillian characteristically proceeds to relish in extracting the “juice” from Bamonte’s past affairs with Margaret. //

17. EXT. OUTSIDE BAMONTE’S APARTMENT – NIGHT **OMITTED**

// Margaret awaits Bamonte’s return outside. They converse briefly. The detective gives her a surface account of his progress. He forbids himself from inviting the lady within, but hails a taxi for her. He reassures her on her departure //

18. EXT. COUNTY ROAD 58 – SUNDAY MORNING

LONG SHOT of burning automobile. Bamonte exits his car, a 2003 Ford Taurus (old by this time) behind the crime scene. State DETECTIVES notice his arrival and approach.

V.O. (Bamonte) Violette gave me the heads up on this one. Now there’s an angel.

DETECTIVE (Cops are never respectful of the gravity of a crime scene.) What are you doing around here, Bamonte? Shouldn’t you be looking into some domestic suspicions? Something more in your specialty?

BAMONTE I am a friend of the deceased.

DETECTIVE Doctor Nervo, huh? I’m sure…

V.O. (Bamonte) So it was him… I recognized the license plate from Lillian’s notes…

DETECTIVE Look, we got enough critical minds at work here. We can do just fine without your part time messing around—

BAMONTE Please, just let me see for myself. I knew this man…

The detective suspects some sincerity but stands firm on his arrogance. He says nothing as Bamonte approaches the crime scene. The flames have been extinguished. A charred corpse is hunched over the steering wheel.

V.O. (Bamonte) Yeah, I knew this guy… Margaret’s husband… way too much fire here… recognized biochemist… obviously a terrible driver… closet drinker?… maybe had too much… way too much… church on Sunday? Probably not… But where then?

DETECTIVE 2 (Wiser) You investigating this guy? His wife put you on, eh?

BAMONTE (Again, keeping that distance of knowledge.) Yeah… I guess she’ll never know if there was a mistress…

DETECTIVE 2 That’s good, eh? At least he can die in good memory. Good, in a sick kind of way, eh?

BAMONTE Right… guess my case is closed…

He walks back to his car.

V.O. (Bamonte) I would really love to break it to the poor girl… I would love to let Dr. Anthony “die in good memory”… I really would… only…

CUT TO   19. INT. FORD TAURUS – SAME

Bamonte is driving away from the scene. He smokes while on the phone and driving. One could call him a distracted driver.

BAMONTE (on phone) Hey, Lillian! Yeah, tell me something baby: did Dr. Nervo’s work ever involve autopsy of any kind? Yeah, human bodies.

CUT TO previous LONG SHOT of burning car.

BAMONTE (on phone) Gross, I know… look it up for me, baby, will you? Yeah… yeah, okay, please… thanks, baby…

He makes another call.

BAMONTE (on phone) Love, how are you? I must thank you again for the tip… It is really a tragedy. Yes… Yes, but I really have some doubts about a few things… I feel I need to clear this man’s name from a few circumstantial accusations, you know? Yeah, the detectives are saying: drunk, asleep, reckless, affair… anything to wrap it up…

REACTION SHOT briefly of Lillian’s pained expression.

BAMONTE (on phone) Yes, love. So, please let me know as soon as the body or the car is taken to their investigation sites. Thank you, love… Thank you… yes… I have to run, love… Good bye… Yes… Goodbye…

One last call.

V.O.   Only one thing bothers me… That’s the doctor’s car for sure, but I don’t think that is his body.

CUT TO   20. EXT. CHURCH PARKING LOT – AFTERNOON

BRADY Travis is playing basketball with some other boys after their Church service. He is a “strapping lad,” as Bamonte would say, of 17 years full of fortitude for many following years of physical strain and abuse. He has a shining personality beneath his acne scarred face. Eager and hearty in two words. He is fouled by wild faced boy, but he recovers to make a lay up.

LONG SHOT of Brady as he leaves the finished game. He reaches his car and takes out his phone.

CLOSE ON the screen reading: //1 Missed Call: Senor B.// Brady calls back.

BAMONTE o. s. (over phone) Hey, Brady, I’m on a big case here. I’m going to need you…

21. INT. BRADY’S CAR – CONTINUOUS

BAMONTE o. s. (over phone) (Youngsters are easy to recruit.) Prime time experience for a detective in training, right?

BRADY (His chance has come!) Yeah! This is great, Senor B. I’ve been hoping you’d let me in on the excitement. I’ll be there. Yeah, for sure. I—

BAMONTE o. s. (over phone) (Has found cheap labor but big liability.) Great, great. Keep your head on straight there son. This is tricky business. If we get caught, you don’t know me, right? So practice those evasive answers I taught you, alright. Be ready in fifteen.

22. INT. BRADY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

TRACKING SHOT of Brady, still on the phone, as he runs inside, changes, picks up necessary items and exits.

BAMONTE o.s. (over phone) We’ve got a missing person’s case here. The cops found the guy in a car crash, but I got a hunch it’s not the guy.

BRADY (Geeked) What do you mean? Like a car crash that was so bad that the body was charred beyond recognition?

REACTION SHOT of   BAMONTE (Smiling at the familiar morbidity.) Yeah… charred beyond recognition…

BRADY Cool, man! I mean that’s… that’s bad news, boss.

MOM (o.s.) (As distantly concerned as modern mother’s can be.) Brady! You’re not going out with those punk friends of yours without you homework being done! Huh?

BRADY Yeah, mom. I mean, no mom. I mean, yeah my homework’s all good. Just gotta read some. Okay, bye!

CUT TO   23. INT. 2003 FORD TAURUS – SAME

Bamonte is joined by Brady. BAMONTE Yes, and please be able to explain your absences to your mother. I can’t afford to lose my teaching reputation over violating child labor laws.

BRADY Yeah, sure, boss. Sure.

V.O. (Bamonte) This kid is something else. He wants to be a cop. Sure, we might risk running up his rap sheet, but I consider him an //apprentice.// Indeed, the only true way to learn. He’s always the kid who runs me off on tangents about my cases in class. For all the class time he makes me lose out on he can at least lend me hand here and there for some of my work. Field experience, right? Work-study, right?

BAMONTE Now, here’s the yard. CUT TO   24. EXT. SCRAPYARD – SAME

Bamonte and Brady approach the wreck from earlier.

BRADY Where’s the body?

BAMONTE Come on, son. That’s in the morgue.

Bamonte peers into the front seat. CLOSE ON steering wheel of burnt out interior.

BAMONTE Check the back. What’s there?

BRADY Crap, man. Um… Empty bottles… burnt papers... I think that was a McDonald’s bag, maybe… Looks like alcohol bottles. Was this guy tanked or something?

BAMONTE Take out those bottles. You have that Milton-Bradly home forensics kit, right?

BRADY (his pride is rubbed wrong) Yeah… It’s not no kid’s toy, boss. Bought it at the spy shop. I saved a lot of money for that…

BAMONTE Great. That should work. I shouldn’t take the latest technology to prove that those bottles were consumed long ago and were planted.

BRADY Wow, boss. This car is toasted! Must have crashed pretty hard right?

BAMONTE Well, you’d think. But this car isn’t so badly mashed up, right?

CLOSE ON burned fabric of interior.

BAMONTE And look at the interior. See how everything is burned from the middle out?

BRADY You mean the flames from the gas tank were so hot that they melted through the bottom?

BAMONTE Come on, son. Guess again…

BRADY Uh… wait a minute! Are you saying that someone doused the car in gas before crashing it up? That’s messed up!

CLOSE ON steering wheel as Bamonte scrapes some fragments with his knife. He then cuts a piece from what remains of the seat belt.

BRADY Damn, the guy must have died on impact…

BAMONTE We should get this checked too. I’ve got a hunch that the guy was already dead. Long dead.

CUT TO   25. EXT. GOELDSTAK LABORATORIES: LOADING DOCK – LATER

Bamonte and Brady stay by the car. Bamonte is on the phone.

LILLIAN o. s. (over phone) Part of Doctor Nervo’s research involved access to cadavers. Gross. I don’t know if he worked exclusively with them or not at all but his access presupposed his qualification for //post mortem// operations. Now the same number of experimental cadavers on deck matches the number registered the week of Nervo’s disappearance. None missing. I’m assuming Nervo’s liaison is the supervisor for the institute’s supply shipments. The same secure delivery company handles all their resource. Even the nasty stuff. Adam McDonnell. The guys who signs off everything. Every day at three.

BAMONTE Thanks, baby. You’re the best.

He hangs up. BAMONTE Stay in the car, kid. I need to look believable here.

BRADY Aw, come on boss… alright. Hey, let me bum a smoke, boss. This stuff’s got me stressed out.

BAMONTE (He reluctantly fishes out a cigarette.) Damn it, kid. That’s a stupid habit to get into at your age… Stressed out, he says…

V.O. (Bamonte) Well, he earned it so far…

He approaches the shipping crew, unloading a few crates. Easy business on a Sunday but business as usual more and more every moment of this modern era. He approaches the man signing the paperwork.

BAMONTE Good afternoon. Mr… McDonnell right?

MCDONNELL (It’s never a good sign when a stranger knows your name.) Yeah, what’s up, bud?

BAMONTE Listen, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions. I’m investigating a case involving a certain Doctor Nervo here…

MCDONNELL (His face betrays him.) Hey, I got some work to finish here, buddy. I’ll talk to you after—

BAMONTE You want to talk right now discreetly or do you want me to speak out loud about your great job in smuggling corpses out of laboratories?

They step aside from the business.

MCDONNELL Check the books, tough guy. This joint is trump-tight. They keep track of every piece of dirt my truck drops on their pavement.

BAMONTE Oh, yeah? It sounds pretty easy to let something slip through the cracks when the smuggler is an authorized doctor at the institute. I’ve already got a nice case against Doctor Nervo. You can help me make it even nicer by coming out with it or I can start another case, even nicer, against you, my friend.

MCDONNELL Alright, man. Alright. But come on, now. How am I supposed to know a respected doctor is a criminal? What laws could he be breaking with the help of dead bodies anyways?

BAMONTE Doesn’t take much imagination…

MCDONNELL Hey, he just called up and asked for an extra shipment. All kosher, bud. He paid in cash so you got no paper trail… I never said anything and don’t think I’m gonna say anything in court until you come back with a solid case, bud. I know your games. So, end of story: three bodies on a day when the books say two.

BAMONTE White, Blonde hair, five-eight-something?

MCDONNELL (Unnerved by this obvious coincidence.) Uh… yeah… actually. He, uh… made me let him check it before…

CUT TO   26. INT. PHPD PRECINCT – LATER

Violette walks briskly with Bamonte and Brady through the police headquarters.

VIOLETTE (This is a slight violation of the rules.) Listen, Agustin. It took me a lot of sneaky trouble to get you this authorization passes. (passes a disapproving look at Brady) Twice the trouble for two passes…

BAMONTE (feigning rough professionalism) Straighten your tie there, Brady. Look like you’re a real detective. I could have just left you in the car. (To Violette) He’s a good kid, love. He wants to be a cop.

VIOLETTE Aw, how noble! Okay… okay… that’s fine but just don’t cause too much trouble. I don’t really know how I would explain this to my superior other than “he held a gun to my head, sir.”

CUT TO   27. INT. PHPD MORGUE— CONTINUOUS

An EXAMINER slowly extracts the body.

EXAMINER (Oddly compliant) Yeah, this is a strange case. It’s already pretty much ruled an accident/suicide. I just need to re-measure the alcohol levels on this guy to determine if he was conscious of killing himself.

LONG SHOT of the body unveiled, but hidden behind the three men. Brady is frozen then turns his back concealing well his uneasiness.

BAMONTE Good, doctor. My investigation is leading me down another route. I was wondering if you could check for the rate of intoxication as well.

EXAMINER (He shares Bamonte’s suspicions.) You think he was drugged. I will definitely check it out. I’m hoping that you can build a case before we can reexamine this death in court? A big case, I hope. I would look into the superiors of this Doctor Nervo… You have heard of the disappearances?

BAMONTE (Can’t let this conversation go on too long.) Indeed, that’s the plan. Of course, don’t be too eager to celebrate the grace of my presence to the detectives on the case. Thank you, doctor.

BRADY (Knows the important question.) Wait, Boss, don’t you—

BAMONTE (Stops the boy quickly.) It’s all good. Thank you, Doctor.

28. INT. 2003 FORD TAURUS – LATER

BRADY (That was too much.) Shit, boss! That guy was toast! Damn, boss, give me a smoke will ya?!

BAMONTE Relax, son, I’ll bye you a milk shake. Chocolate or Vanilla?

BRADY Well, why wouldn’t you ask the doc to DNA test the body? It’s not Doctor Nervo, is it?

BAMONTE You don’t play cards a lot do you, son? The body is what I would call a “trump card.” Come on. Let’s get you a grilled cheese and fries.

BRADY I dunno… I don’t feel too hungry…

FADE OUT

END OF ACT TWO

29. INT. CLASSROOM – MONDAY MORNING

Bamonte conducts his class in his usual laid back style: “Socratic” as he would say. His face reveals almost instant distraction at the start of a student’s response. He is much in thought.

CLOSE ON Brady at the far right of the classroom who passes knowing looks at his teacher. CLOSE ON Bamonte who slowly mouths the words back at him.

V.O. (Bamonte) I’ll kill you if you tell anyone.

BAMONTE So we’ve finished Romeo and Juliet. Let’s recap with the general themes of the drama. It’s important to zoom in on specifics and zoom out on generalities hand in hand. Tracy could you make the list. Alright…

V.O. (Bamonte) The evidence is all there. It’s all fact…, but what is the motive? Who? Why?

STUDENT 2 (The one in love) Well, one theme is how love makes you do crazy things.

V.O. (Bamonte) Yeah, like taking on an unsolvable case for an old flame. How can I break it to Margaret? Haven’t heard from her. Does she know the cops story? Probably. Should I keep this secret from her until…?

BRADY (walking the fence of revelation.) I got a literary theory! What if the Capulets actually knew that Romeo was going to the tomb so they took Juliet out and replaced her with a dead body: a look-alike? Yeah, they totally set the guy up to commit suicide!

BAMONTE (His eyes wide. Slow and stern.) Yes… Brady… Great theory… We can see that suicide is a very poignant event in this drama. Now, Brady… how would you phrase suicide into a //theme,// staying on topic of course?

V.O. (Bamonte) This kid will get me killed… But why? Let’s say that the doctor’s superior knocked him off… a guy like that would be smarter than the sloppy set up I saw. Or would he have to be with cops on his payroll… Margaret? She wouldn’t. Life insurance, policy? Maybe they both would.

STUDENT 3 (This kid is too smart for his own good. His peer disciples listen enrapt to his musings.) I dunno, man. I don’t get the whole killing yourself thing… I mean, come on. You could just run away and start over again. I thought about all of this and it’s like… I want to call it “social suicide.” (a couple of girls acknowledge his wisdom) You know, like “killing” your old life and disappearing but still living a different life…

V.O.   Damn, crazy kids…

FLASHBACK to MORGUE. The Examiner speaks to Bamonte.

EXAMINER This is a strange case. It’s already pretty much ruled an accident/suicide.

BACK TO

V.O.   Damn crazy kids… They lay it out for me all of the time. “Social Suicide”. That’s such a smart piece of stupidity.

BAMONTE Okay, class, keep up with the themes. I have to step out for a minute. For the rest of class I need you to select a theme and write an explore/inquire essay on your theme in the play, another text this year, and your own personal experience.

He exits the class amid confused glances from students.

V.O.   Now to get to the real source of the issue. I should have checked this place out first.

CUT TO   30. EXT. OUTSIDE NERVO’S RESIDENCE – AFTERNOON

Bamonte and Brady approach the house from a distance. Bamonte is on the phone, and is carrying a Polaroid camera.

ROSALIND o. s. (over phone) She works at the hospital until five on Mondays. There’s a good chance she’s got the day off, mourning and all. Kids get out of school at three-thirty plus goofing off time… I’d say you have a two hour window here.

BAMONTE Thanks, sweetheart. You’re the best. Bye. (to Brady) Now, son, I need you to be my look out. Don’t get too close to this house or the neighbors will call the cops. I’ll be lucky if I get in here unnoticed.

BRADY Alright, boss, I’ll keep my phone on.

Bamonte steps away.

BRADY Oh, hey, boss!

BAMONTE Yeah, what?

BRADY Can I bum a smoke?

Bamonte sighs and in the interest of haste surrenders a cigarette.

BAMONTE It won’t be my fault when you turn eighteen.

ESTABLISHING SHOT of Nervo’s Residence as Bamonte approaches with nonchalance, like an inspector of sorts.

CLOSE ON Bamonte examining the house for an entry, feigning a concern for insulation leaks.

CLOSE ON the widows of the neighbors’ houses: empty.

Bamonte removes a screen from a back window. He attempts to loosen the window. Tries again and crack!

V.O. (Bamonte) Shit. He replaces the screen and fumbles for some rocks to frame some reckless neighbor child. He turns to the back screen door. Click! It opens.

V.O. (Bamonte) Too easy.

He enters the house. He examines various rooms discovering who inhabits which. He lingers for a moment in the master bedroom and notices a few mementos of Margaret’s past. He examines the desk there and finds nothing of interest. He enters the basement and discovers a study. There is a desk with papers scattered upon it.

V.O. (Bamonte) Looks like Margaret has been doing her own investigation.

He passes through each page carefully: research drafts, bills, insurance documents, and letters from friends.

V.O. (Bamonte) Alice Barrow? This one… some past lover? Some affair. Seems to have been overlooked…

He discovers a journal.

V.O. (Bamonte) This is Anthony’s handwriting. Not very prolific, though.

The journal reads: Voice of DR. NERVO reads (o. s.) //8/15/2012 Marty’s Bachelor Party. Great time on the lake. Most of our buddies from HS came out this time. Lots of catching up… love that place… Someday I’ll get a summer home there…//

Another entry: Voice of DR. NERVO reads (o. s.) //12/6/2018 Margaret, love of my life… These have been trying times… Sometimes I wonder if you would have been better off without me. The things that trouble you the most about me are intrinsic to my profession. Confidential research, long hours away, unexpected evenings on call… I never gave you the quality time you need…//

V.O. (Bamonte) (He begins to understand Margaret’s relationship apart from himself.) Poor guy. Sensitive, concerned. Well, who ever really could afford quality time in this slavish economy?

He glances over a few more entries. Another reads:

Voice of DR. NERVO reads (o. s.) //5/30/2020 Another slim vacation time. I just had to go alone this time. Going to lose my mind… Margaret is pissed… Said I may as well be dead for all of time I spend out of her existence… The lake is just as beautiful as I remember it. Just as peaceful… apart from the world… no urban filth… This is where I ought to be… This is where man was meant to exist…//

He glances around the study and notices a few pictures framed on the wall: a cabin, a view from a pontoon… possibly a group shot of the Bachelor party. Another set of photographs feature the doctor holding his biggest catches from fishing. He peruses the doctor’s bookshelf.

V.O. (Bamonte) This guy… a man of nature… Mr. Outdootsman. He must have read… Yeah, I knew it. Thoreau’s //Walden//. Good stuff—

He stoops to the foot of the bookshelf and discovers a letter dropped. It reads:

Voice of DR. NERVO reads (o. s.) //Dear Margaret,// // I hope this note never has to be read. I wish I could have just burned it up. I wish I could have just burned up everything: all of the things in this awful existence that pile up in barriers between us. I wish I could have just burned myself up: purged out all of my failings. Don’t worry for me, love. I only want you to be happy. For that, I must remove all things that prevent you from being happy. For that, I should destroy all things that hurt you: even myself. // This //world has no place for a man like myself. But there are other men whom the world has given a place, other men who could give happiness and time to deserving women. You deserve more than any woman. So, please, if you have to read this awful letter. Don’t waste a second in remembering me. Live your life. Move on. Please, move on and be happy…//

V.O. (Bamonte) (He soaks this in.) Damn. A suicide note? Really? Did she read this? Is she just in denial… What?

He ponders this letter and carefully replaces it on the floor in the precise position it was retrieved. He distractedly examines other documents. An insurance form catches his attention: //Huron Life Insurance Policy # 234789… conditions for disbursement…//

V.O. (Bamonte) Suicide? Really? Wasn’t there some crazy movie about this: suicide for life insurance? No… that’s not it… the body… it’s not his… the crash was set up.

He looks back at the journal. Another entry reads:

Voice of DR. NERVO reads (o. s.) //9/3/2021 Drinking too much. I can’t go on with this business. I am part of this machine of insanity. I am just a cog. I don’t know to what end all of my data is going. I can’t imagine what awful snares of warfare these studies will generate. How many people is our government trying to kill off? I can’t sit back and be a bystander to all of the cruelty in the world. I can’t sit there and be passive— no, active contributor to this cruelty. I won’t let myself be lied to by the board, either. I won’t let the bastards! But what could I do. What could I do more than die and stop my part of the machine of cruelty? What could the whole world do better than just die? It could just die and stop killing itself.//

He recovers his focus as if he remembers why he is there and starts snapping photographs. Some of the letters, one of the insurance numbers, one of the suicide note, some of the photos on the wall. He phone vibrates. He reads the text: //from// //Brady: You ok boss?// He replies: //yeah//. The clock on the phone tells three-thirty. He types another text: //to Rosie: look up recent purchases of Waterfront property at…// he looks closer at one of the photos. //…Lake Nepessing… sent.//

BAMONTE (Aloud) Got all I can here.

He takes a moment to rearrange everything, then exits.

CUT TO

31. BAMONTE’S OFFICE – EVENING

Margaret is weeping in Bamonte’s arms. He says nothing.

CLOSE ON Bamonte’s face. There is conflict and his mouth half opens then shuts firm.

FADE OUT TO

32. EXT. HIGHWAY 58 – AFTERNOON TUESDAY

Bamonte is driving with the same preoccupation on his face.

BAMONTE What could I say? What should I have said? To her the whole thing is over… I couldn’t accept her payment… I should have, for all of this trouble… I’m acting like she’s my own wife! I should have just dropped the case too. But, I can’t. I know that Dr. Anthony Nervo is still alive.

MONTAGE of LAKE NEPESSING as Bamonte scours the area, speaking to all residents and visitors, searching the depths of the forest.

FLASHBACK to Bamonte’s office. Rosalind fills him in.

ROSALIND There were no new purchases in the last few months. The place is sold out. The state’s retirees have bought every square inch. There’s just the hunting grounds a good amount of acreage to get lost in…

MONTAGE of LAKE NEPESSING continues as an obsessive pilgrimage of trails, distant mirages of foliage, and endless horizons of water.

V.O. (Bamonte) Come on, girls! Help me out here…I’m lost…in the woods…

FLASHBACK to Bamonte’s office. Violette fills him in.

VIOLETTE The woods around Nepessing are rather tranquil. Very few reports of strangers, wanderers, fugitives, or any other suspicious people. A few hunters passed a couple hints towards a mountain man in the woods but none of them had consistent id’s.

SWISH PAN around and around the lake. CROSSFADE into photograph of Nervo holding his fishing catch.

V.O. (Bamonte) I’m gonna find you. I know he’s out there. I know that body wasn’t his…

FLASHBACK to Student 3 regaling the class

STUDENT 3 It’s like… what I call “Social Suicide”…

MONTAGE repeats very rapidly.

V.O. (Bamonte) I know you’re there. You can’t hide from this world of cruelty. This world has no place for you but you can’t escape it! I know you’re there.

CLOSE ON Bamonte, very suddenly. He is unshaven, worn out and staring out into the distance of the woods.

V.O. (Bamonte) But, even if I do…

FAR SHOT of DR. ANTHONY NERVO staring back from the woods, looking only slightly more worn than the detective. He stares back frozen, like a hunted beast.

V.O. (bamonte) Even now that I found you… What will I say to Margaret?

FAR SHOT of Bamonte equally frozen.

V.O. (Bamonte) What could I say? What should I say?

FAR SHOT of Nervo as he walks backwards staring ahead at the detective.

V.O. (Bamonte) I should say… CLOSE ON Bamonte as he turns around, after a beat, and retraces his steps out of the woods.

V.O. (Bamonte) I probably shouldn’t say anything.

CROSS FADE TO   33. EXT. CEMETARY – MORNING LATER IN WEEK

Bamonte stands silent at the funeral of Dr. Anthony Nervo. Brady stands beside him with a puzzled look. The detective’s face is suppressing a smile. Margaret is in tears at a distance.

PRIEST //Requiem aeternam dona eis, domine…//

V.O. (Bamonte) I really just wanted to laugh. The thought that there was some random science fair project in the casket of a living man was too much to keep a straight face over. Damn, I really just wanted to tell him what a crappy job he did of setting up the whole car crash. Brady, of course, was pissed that I let the case go. I assured him that the time was not right. The time will come for the truth to come out…

The ceremonies over, Bamonte leaves accompanying Margaret.

V.O. (Bamonte) Maybe if we keep in touch I could find a way to break it to her.

CUT TO   34. INT. BAMONTE’S OFFICE – LATER

CLOSE ON Rosalind’s indignant expression.

BAMONTE Asshole? I’m an asshole for this? Why?

ROSALIND How could you just let that man abandon his wife like that? Men these days…

BAMONTE (Loves egging her on.) Okay, okay… abandon, yes. But you’re the one who told me she hit the jackpot on that //irresponsible// man’s life insurance policy.

ROSALIND (Is not going to give up.) You are the only person who can save this woman from living the rest of her life thinking her husband committed suicide.

BAMONTE (Damn, she’s got a point.) Rosie, sweetheart, okay. You’re right. But like I said, I’ve got to build a case here. If you read Dr. Nervo’s diary and took his point of view you’d see that there are worse evils in our world than dying. This guy’s really got me hooked into discovering the dirty secrets of this Goeldstak Institute. I know it’s not really a constitutional right or anything but a man has a right to flee danger. Right?

Rosalind is not yielding to his rationalization.

BAMONTE Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got most of the evidence… It’s just… Damn, how can I explain this one… No one would believe it… I’ve got to find out what could be so evil going on at the institute that it could drive a man to forge his own suicide.

CUT TO   35. EXT. PINE GROVE AVE. – EVENING

LONG SHOT of Bamonte walking down the street away from the camera.

V.O. (Bamonte) Well, that’s another episode of another drama. I mean, of the same drama… In the lives of these selfish people, in the lives of this town where everyone minds their own damn business… It’s hard to see that truth exists. Why, a man may lie even on the level of life and death. Yet and still, my duty is to the Truth and I must serve this age. My duty is to a time when truth exists.