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Se7en (1995) script

by Andrew Kevin Walker

 
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

 
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