[Areas in red are hand written notes, misspelling and all]
"ASYLUM"
PART I
by Written by Paul Quarrington
PUBLISHED DRAFT March 3, 1997 REVISED PINK – March 6, 1997
REVISED BLUE – March 10, 1997
REVISED GREEN – March 12, 1997
REVISED YELLOW – March 14, 1997
REVISED TAN – SKIPPED
REVISED GOLD – March 17, 1997
REVISED GREY – March 18, 1997
REVISED DBL. WHITE – April 15, 1997
Episode #141 – “Asylum” - Revised Gold CAST
Regular Cast
Recurring Cast
FRASER
THATCHER
RAY
TURNBULL
DIEFENBAKER
FRANCESCA
WELSH
DEWEY
HUEY
Guest Cast
ANDREAS VOLPE
INTERCOM VOICE
ANNOUNCER
SANDOR
BRIAN KILREA
SENIOR
COP
SHELLEY BYRON*
DAMON CAHILL
TIBBET
EDDY HERNDORFF
UNIFORM
GUS FILION
HOOD
Episode #141 "ASYLUM"- REVISED GOLD SETS
EXTERIOR-DAY
INTERIOR-DAY
None
None
EXTERIOR-NIGHT
INTERIOR-NIGHT
CANADIAN CONSULTE
ALLEYWAY / CRIME SCENE
-BOARD ROOM
AUTO BODY SHOP
-FOYER
DOWNSCALE GYM/BOXING CLUB
-FRASER’S OFFICE
DOWNTOWN STREETS
-HALL OUTSIDE FRASER’S OFFICE
FILION’S SOCIAL CLUB
-NEAR A BACK ENTRANCE
SPA
-THATCHER’S OFFICE
STREET NEAR CONSULATE
.
POLICE STATION
-BULLPEN
-CLOSET
CORRIDORS
-WELSH’S OFFICE
SCRIPT DAYS
Scenes Day/Night
1 - 32 DAY ONE
33 – 43 NIGHT ONE
44 – 55 DAY TWO
PROLOUGE EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – DAY (DAY ONE) Establishing shot. THATCHER (O.S.): Fraser, if anything of an urgent nature arises, and I do mean urgent… INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – DAY Only for the next few days, it’s going to be Fraser’s office. THATCHER has a flight bag and a suitcase. She’s at her desk going over last minute details. Fraser stands by graciously. THATCHER:…as in flood, fire, famine or act of God, these are my numbers: my cell number, my pager, my room at the spa, the front desk of the spa, the therapy rooms, the mud rooms and – no, that’s not a number you need. Clear? FRASER: Yes, sir. The phone rings. like a fire horse at the sound of the bell, Thatcher moves for the phone. Fraser stops her with a palms up gesture and picks it up. FRASER (CONT’D)(into phone): Canadian Consulate. Acting Liaison Officer Constable Benton Fraser. ext. alleyway – day a SCARRED INNER CITY AREA. Ray is on his cell phone as he paces in a tight circle in a litter strewn alley. INTECUT WITH PREVIOUS SCENE RAY (into phone): She gone yet? FRASER: No, sir. Canada is a nation bordered by the United States to the south, the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans and the Arctic Ocean to the north with a total land mass of roughly 10 million kilometers. RAY: So the Ice Queen’s still there? FRASER: Yes, sir, it can be a cold climate. A pang of separation anxiety from Thatcher. THATCHER: Who is it? RAY: Fraser, I’m in a hurry. FRASER: A man in a hurry. TURNBULL: You’re Limo Sir. THATCHER: My limo. Thatcher gathers her things and rushes for the door. RAY: Listen Fraser something came up. I gotta meet a guy. So I won’t be dropping by tonight. Don’t wait up. VOLPE (O.S.): Vecchio. FRASER: Have a safe trip sir. RAY: Gotta go. Thatcher steps out the door with a slam. Ray clicks off the phone and turns to see… RAY: We’re gonna get in on cause we don’t get along. ANDREAS VOLPE a made man: an ambitious hood on his way up. He fears no one. He’s nuts. He stands at the far end of the alley. RAY: Volpe. They walk warily toward each other. They stop toe to toe. VOLPE: So… RAY: So… VOLPE: You wouldn’t be wearing a wire, would you? RAY: Who Me? VOLPE: Then you won’t mind if I have a look. RAY: A man with style is a man who can smile. Ray lifts his arms as Volpe pats him down. He’s clean. RAY: Do you the same favour. VOLPE: I’m a criminal. Why would I be wearing a wire. RAY: Posterity? Before Volpe can reply, Ray frisks him quickly. He’s clean too. VOLPE: Satisfied? RAY: I’m never satisfied. So what do you want. VOLVE: What do I want? You called me. RAY: I didn’t call you. You called me. A beat as the light of recognition goes on in both men’s eyes at once. It’s a set up. They each teak a step backwards, pulling for their guns. As Ray raises his gun, we hear O.S.: TWO GUNSHOTS in rapid succession. Volpe’s eyes widen in disbelief. he clutches his stomach. He’s been him. He drops his gun. Then the life leaves his eyes as he crumples to the ground, dead. Ray whirls to confront A GUNMAN in baggy clothes and a hoodie that obscures his face. He comes out of nowhere and is on Ray in a split second. THE GUNMAN doesn’t break stride. He brings the butt of the gun down hard on Ray’s forehead. Ray drops like a sack of potatoes. The Gunman steps over the fallen Ray and reaches down for Volpe’s dropped gun. He’s about to pick it up when A DOOR OPENS nearby and a COUPLE OF RESTAURANT WORKERS step into the alley for a smoke. The Gunman has to think on his feet. He’d planned on shooting Ray with Volpe’s gun and making it look like they’d killed each other. But The Restaurant Workers have ruined that plan. So, instead, he kneels beside Ray and places his own gun, the murder weapon, in the unconscious Ray’s hand. The Restaurant Workers don’t see the Gunman as he slops ways into the shadows. EXT. ALLEYWAY – MOMENTS LATER TIBBET, a tightly wound young police officer on foot patrol comes cautiously down the alley, her gun drawn. HER POV – the lower half of Volpe’s body lying where he fell. Tibbet rushes over and drops down on one knee beside the body. Volpe is soaked in blood. TIBBET: Jesus… Ray GROANS O.S. Tibbet turns quickly, pulling her gun. Her eyes wide with fear, nostrils flared, breathing heavily through her nose. TIBBET (CONT’D): Police Officer. Don’t move. ANGLE ON Ray who pulls himself to a sitting position against the opposite wall, blood running down from his hairline into his eyes. He seems to not be aware that he is holding a gun. RAY: It’s OK, I’m a – TIBBET (screaming): I said, don’t move!! Tibbet’s eyes are darting wildly. RAY: Take it easy, I’m a cop. TIBBET: I said freeze. As she cocks her gun. She’s got the shakes now. Her gun is trembling. He take in the situation. He tries to chill her out. RAY: It’s OK…It’s OK. Good, good…. Ray makes a show of dropping the gun, Tibbet doesn’t move. Ray dares to think maybe he’s defused the situation. A CAT jumps from a nearby garbage can. Tibbet catches the movement, whirls and fires wildly. The shot ricochets off the brick wall. Ray lowers his shoulder and rams Tibbet into the wall. As Ray takes off, Tibbet scrambles to her feet. TIBBET: Stop! She fires off a couple of shots, the bullets kicking near Ray’s feet. TIBBET (CONT’D): or I’ll shoot! ON RAY, heading for the street. RAY (yells) Good. Tibbet takes off in pursuit. EXT. STREET – CONTINUOUS Ray dodging and hurtling through the rush hour traffic. Tibbet stops, stands her ground and aims her weapon. TIBBET’S POV – Vecchio’s head lined up in her sights. A BAG LADY pushing a shopping cart wanders into the line of fire. Tibbet, with a great show of disappointment, lowers her weapon. ON A SIDE STREET Ray stops and considers his location. He looks like he’s on his last legs. With the back of his hand he wipes the blood from his eyes. He gets an idea and makes a sharp turn toward State Street. EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – AFTERNOON Ray charges up the front steps, pushes open the front door. It’s Rocky calling Adrienne. RAY (bellows): Fraser! INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – DAY Ray is slumped in a chair. Fraser cleans his wound. RAY: He’s a psycho. He’s been running his own little operation on the South Side for a year or so. Drugs, guns, prostitution, your basic American Dream. Fraser opens an unmarked jar and scoops out some goopey paste which he daubs on Ray’s wound. RAY: Ow! FRASER: Sorry. RAY (recoiling from the smell): What is that? FRASER: It’ll prevent infection. (thinking better of it) You were discussing Mr. Volpe. Ray-smells. RAY: Word is that he’s been getting ambitious lately. So naturally I’m anxious for a face to face, I get there and it’s a setup. He shakes his head. RAY: this is blank space FRASER: Do you think somebody hit you? Ray fells his head. RAY: This stuff stinks. (smells)…I don’t remember. RAY: I wake up, Volpe’s dead, I got this uniform in my face blasting away like Yosemite Sam. Bang, bang, bang. So I take off. FRASER: And you have no idea what happened to Mr. Volpe? RAY: This really stinks. Somebody shot him. Could have been anybody. (a beat) Could have been me. FRASER: I see. Ray: What is this stuff? Fraser: It’s a concoction I made from the mucous membrane from…it’s not important. What is important if I may recap, you were lured to a meeting with a gangland figure. Ray: Yeah. Fraser: At which meeting this gangland figure was murdered, an event of which you have no memory. Ray: No, yeah. Fraser: A uniformed officer arrived you resisted arrest and you fled the scene of the homicide carrying with you material evidence, namely your head wound. Do you agree with the facts of the scenario. RAY (defensively) Yes. Didn’t I just say that or do I have a head injury FRASER (lost in thought) Well Ray I’m sorry but I’m afraid that I have no option. Fraser places his hand firmly on Ray’s shoulder. FRASER: By the powers vested in me by the Government of Canada, I am placing you under arrest. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to council…. END OF PROLOUGE
ACT ONE INT. POLICE STATION – HALLWAY – DAY LT. WELSH, flanked by HUEY and Huey’s new partner, a man we’ll come to know as THOMAS E. DEWY, stride the length of the hallway.
WELSH: Don’t let his exterior fool you. Cahill is a pit bull. When other kids were playing baseball he was busting knee caps on picket lines. He is tough, he is a son of a bitch and he is running for State’s Attorney and, if he winds gentlemen we do not want to be on his bad side because he’ll bust our chops for eternity. INT. POLICE STATION – BULLPEN – CONTINUOUS The trio continues into the bullpen. WELSH: We hear him out, then we go do our jobs. Got it? Huey and Dewey nod as they step into… INT. POLICE STATION – WELSH’S OFFICE – DAY …and discover DAMON CAHILL sitting behind Welsh’s desk. CAHILL: Harding! How’s your belly where the pig bit you? WELSH: Sore, Damon, it’s sore. Cahill is bright, confident, aggressive and ambitious and a real pain in the ass. A couple of years ago he made a name for himself as a young lawyer. Now he’s trying to ride that success into the States Attorney’s office. He’s campaigning for office. CHAILL: Huey! Nice to see you again. HUEY (without relish): Thank you, sir. Cahill turns to Detective Dewey. CAHILL: Didn’t you have a beard of something? DEWEY: No, sir. CAHILL: You look different. HUEY: You’re thinking of Louis, sir. My previous partner. CAHILL: Oh, yeah. He retire? HUEY: No, sir. He, uh… DEWEY: He was blown up. In a car. Dewey’s the name. Nice to meet you. You know, you look a lot bigger in your posters. CAHILL: It’s not the size of the army, kid, it’s the fury of its onslaught. (everyone laughs) We done? Huh? Done with the laughs? (all stop laughing) Let’s move on. The Volpe shooting. What’s the status? WELSH: We’re investigating. CAHILL: Was he registered as a confidential informant? WELSH: No. CAHILL: What was the purpose of the meeting between Volpe and Vecchio? WELSH: I wasn’t privy to the content. CAHILL: Were you even aware that Vecchio was going to have a meet with Volpe? (Welsh doesn’t answer) So, this meet was unauthorized. Tell me is that how you normally conduct the affairs of this station? WELSH: What kind of question is that, Damon? CAHILL: It’s not a question, Lieutenant Welsh. It’s a statement and speaking as a candidate for the office of State’s Attorney, I will not have members of the Chicago PD cozying up to organized crime. Speaking as an officer of the court, I will not have members of the Chicago PD blowing them away in back alleys. (slight pause) Pick Vecchio up. WELSH: Dewey, you can show Mr. Cahill out. Dewey opens the door and The Aide hurries over to join up with Cahill. INT. POLICE STATION – BULLPEN – DAY Dewey leads Cahill and Aide to the door. They reach the door, Cahill stops and turns. CAHILL: Dewey, tell Huey I’m sorry about Louis. INT. POLICE STATION – CORRIDORS – DAY Cahill and Aide come through from the bullpen into an area to which the public has a little access. SHELLEY BYRON, an aggressive and ambitious television reporter in her mid to late twenties lays in wait with her CAMERA CREW. Cahill realizes that the media are here and immediately ups the wattage. SHELLY: Mr. Cahill CAHILL: Ah, Miss Byron. SHELLEY (FOR THE CAMERA): Mr. Cahill, as a candidate for State’s Attorney, what is your reaction to today’s shooting? CAHILL: Well, Miss Byron, as you know, I spent the last year heading up the Mayor’s task force in the fight against organized crime. INT. CONSULATE – BOARD ROOM – DAY ON A TELEVISION MONITOR – Shelley Byron’s interview with Cahill. Fraser and Ray watching. CAHILL (on TV):…and the battle only reinforced in me the deep belief that no one is above the law. Not me, not you, nobody. And especially not the police. SHELLY: Your insinuating that the police are above the law sir? Ray snaps off the TV angrily. RAY: The guy’s campaign is dying and he needs an issue. So I’m the issue. FRASER: Well only temporarily. As soon as we arrange a blow-back test to prove you haven’t fired a gun recently. RAY: Won’t work. Small arms certification. I was on the range this morning. I’m covered with blowback. scene change to consulate FRASER: Ah. (beat) Perhaps I’ll take this opportunity to urinate. Turnbull emerges from the ensuite bathroom. Fraser gets up to go to the bathroom himself. TURNBULL: I wouldn’t go in there. FRASER: I have to – TURNBULL: I wouldn’t go in there. FRASER: Turnbull, I have lived among the musk ox, there very little I haven’t – TURNBULL: It won’t flush. FRASER: Ah. Is it the standard modified military field unit? TURNBULL: Correct. Seventeen centimetre stem on a nine litre displacement. FRASER (thoughtfully): Hmm. Seventeen centimeter stem on a nine litre displacement. Not available locally.) TURNBULL: We could have one flown in from Prince Rupert. FRASER: That’s the ticket. Good thinking, Constable. TURNBULL: Thank you sir. RAY: Hey. Are you guys sort of like British? I mean what’s up with the toilet? Reason I ask, is that we had this guy from Scotland Yard over and every day he’d go back to his hotel just to use the can. (Fraser waits for the punchline) Turnbull: I don’t see anything wrong with that do you Sir? Fraser: No. Ray gives up and turns the TV back on. EXT. CONSULATE – FRONT STEPS – DAY Fraser is standing on the front steps with Huey and Dewey. FRASER: Ah Gentlemen.
HUEY (wearily): Look, Fraser, don’t give me a hard time. We have a warrant. FRASER: I’m afraid Ray is already under arrest. HUEY: By who? FRASER: By whom. DEWEY: By whom? FRASER: By me. HUEY: Fraser, you’re a Mountie. You can’t arrest people unless you’re in Canada. FRASER: I am in Canada. HUEY: No, see, this is Chicago. FRASER: You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But you would be wrong. FRASER: You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But you would be wrong. DEWEY: Are we in the twilight zone? FRASER: Under the terms of the Vienna Convention of 1964, this consulate, and the ground under which this is Canadian territory. Turnbull. So, technically, Ray is in Canada. If you wish to arrest him you will have to extradite him. Fraser produces a sheaf of papers. FRASER: These are the necessary forms, to be completed in triplicate and filed with the American Embassy in Ottawa. DEWEY: We are in the twilight zone. HUEY: You can’t do this, Fraser. The door opens a crack and Turnbull sticks his head out. TURNBULL: Actually, he can. Regina versus Mombourquette 1967. A confidence trickster was extradited to Alberta to face charges that he had bilked pensioners in a faulty mattress scheme. Also, in 1984, Regina versus Horowitz. A man with a large- FRASER: Thank you, Turnbull. TURNBULL: Sir. FRASER: Good-day, gentlemen. DEWEY: Can we use your bathroom. FRASER: Certainly….Oh, no sorry. Fraser slips back inside. INT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – CONTINUOUS Ray appears from Thatcher’s office. In the Background of this scene and subsequent scenes in the consulate a family of hopeful Asian immigrants are attempting to complete the necessary forms. RAY: (can’t help being impressed_ They really have to extradite me? FRASER: That’s right. RAY: Wow. Go figure. Fraser reaches for his Stetson. RAY: Where you going? FRASER: The scene of the crime. Ray jumps up like a bird dog whose owner has just taken his shotgun off the wall. RAY: Good plan. You do that, I’ll get my files. FRASER: I’m sure the police have already picked up your files. RAY: Yeah, they’ll have found my files but they won’t have found my ‘files’ files. ‘Cause I keep the secret stuff in a big book I hollowed out. Ray starts to move. Fraser stops him. FRASER: Oh, no you don’t seem to understand, Ray. You can’t leave the consulate. Ray: Why? FRASER: Detectives Huey and Dewey are undoubtedly stationed outside, waiting to arrest you the moment you step out of this building. As long as you stay here, you’re safe. Let’s go. Dief runs down stairs and out the door. Turnbull approaches with a tea try. TURNBULL: Tea, Mister Vecchio? RAY: Safe? FRASER: Welcome to Canada, Ray. Fraser leaves as Turnbull sets the tea down. TURNBULL: Since you’re a newcomer to our nation, I thought a little orientation might be of some help as well as some good fun. Are you familiar with a sport known as curling. EXT. ALLEYWAY – CRIME SCENE – DAY Fraser and Diefenbaker round the corner from the street and into the frame. Tattered ends of yellow police tape indicate the area which had been marked off as the crime scene. Fraser has Diefenbaker at his heel. They reach the tape. FRASER: Stay here. Diefenbaker sits. Fraser drops to one knee beside the chalk outline that marks the place where the body lay. He inspects the ground and then the wall. A bullet mark in the brick wall. The slug has been removed. Fraser’s eye follows the line that the bullet appears to have taken. Diefenbaker runs across the alley to a loosely stacked pile of collapsed cardboard cartons. Diefenbaker sniffs at the edge of the stack and WHINES. Fraser hurries over. FRASER: Good boy. As he moves the cartons, he sniffs one. FRASER: Mmm, byproduct of a domestic lager. I guess their toilet doesn’t work either. Fraser picks up a flat of cardboard and sniffs a corner of the flat where a black residue is visible. FRASER: Gunpowder. So the gunman fired from here. Fraser’s POV shows us a clear and direct line to where the bodies were lying. FRASER: After waiting for his victims to arrive. Fraser throws the last of the cardboard aside to reveal a little nest where someone had been waiting. CLOSE ON a pile of cigarette butts, stubbed out in a neat little grouping. Fraser picks up a butt and examines it closely. he touches his fingertip to the end of the butt and then rubs his finger against his thumb. FRASER: Some sort of….salve…What do you think?
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INT. POLICE STATION – BULLPEN – DAY Kilrea is at Ray’s desk. He’s pulling open drawers, flipping through files, throwing selected items into a cardboard box. LT. WELSH stands behind him, chaperoning him on his raid. Welsh does not look pleased at the way Kilrea is throwing his weight around. Huey and Dewey look on from their desks as Kilrea shoulders the box and heads for the door. Welsh escorts him out. KILREA: Anything else, I’ll call you. Oh, and I’ll want a copy of any phone messages he gets. Every message. WELSH: Hey, I don’t have enough people to take messages for the people who do work here. You want Vecchio’s messages, you work dispatch. Huey and Dewey not agreement. Way to go, Lieutenant. Apparently nobody likes Kilrea. CAMERA stays on Ray’s deserted desk. Huey and Dewey head out of frame. A BEAT and then FRANCESCA, dressed in her Civilian Aid uniform, saunters casually to Ray’s desk. She opens the bottom drawer. She takes a large soft covered book “Canadian Art – The Exciting Years” from the drawer, cradles it in her arm, turns and walks calmly out of the room. INT. POLICE STATION – CORRIDOR – CONTINUOUS Francesca reaches a door marked “Maintenance” She opens it and disappears inside. INT. POLICE STATION – CLOSET – DAY Pitch black. FRANCESCA (O.S): Fraser? FRASER (O.S.): Right here. FRANCESCA (O.S.): You smell great. FRASER (O.S.): That would be the Neatsfoot oil. FRANCESCA (O.S.): You wear Neatsfoot oil? FRASER (O.S.): On my Sam Browne. A strange Francesca moan. FRASER (O.S.): That’s my belt. FRANCESCA: Oh. The door is opened to reveal Kilrea in the hall. INT. POLICE STATION – CORRIDOR – CONTINUOUS Fraser looks at Kilrea. FRASER’S SUPER EYES: see Kilrea’s name tag, as do we. FRASER: Ah, Sergeant Kilrea. Just the man I was looking for. KILREA: You were looking for me in a closet? FRASER: No, I’m in the closet for an altogether different reason – FRANCESCA: I WISH. KILREA: Who the hell are you? FRASER: Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP. And I certainly don’t mean to step on any jurisdictional toes, however Ray Vecchio didn't shoot Mr. Volpe. KILREA: Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t – who cares? FRASER: I do. KILREA: Listen to me Ray’s a smartass. He brings heat down on all decent cops. Cahill wants Vecchio I’m gonna give him And you’re gonna give me that book. FRASER: Oh dear. Kilrea grabs it from her hands. Francesca looks at Fraser, her eyes saying, “Sorry.” INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – DAY tv: A CLOSE-UP OF A CURLING STONE MOVING SLOWLY DOWN THE ICE. There’s a brief flurry of activity as the brooms sweep in. Then just the stone, inching toward the house. We see Ray and Turnbull watching the TV – Turnbull engrossed; Ray catatonic. RAY: Anything moves this slowly is not a sport. TURNBULL (indignant): Not a sport? RAY: (makes the sweeping gesture) This is not a sport. It’s housework. TURNBULL: It is a calling. RAY: It may be a pastime, it may even be a hobby, but it is definitely not a sport. TURNBULL: Do you want to fight? RAY: Over curling? TURNBULL: Yes. What if I made fun of baseball. RAY: Alright. FRASER: Afternoon Gentlemen. He stands as Fraser enters the room. Ray sees his and sags as he realizes Fraser has no files in his arms. RAY: Hey you’re empty handed. FRASER: Yes I am but I’m not empty trousered. Fraser unbuttons his tunic, pulls down his britches to reveal handfuls of files jammed into each balloon legging. He passes the files over to Ray, who reacts: RAY: Yes! TURNBULL: (reacting to TV) Oh, oh, sir…. Fraser looks at the TV. FRASER/TURNBULL: (to the tv, with the enthusiasm of a true fan): Sweep! Sweep! Turnbull: I love this game. Fraser sees a woman at the door he starts to move to help her and he realizes his pants are at his knees he walks behind TV.
ACT TWO INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – DAY Fraser sifts through the material spread out on the desktop. A SPREAD OF SURVELLANCE PHOTOS fanned out on top of each other. A surveillance photo of a tough old Gang Boss we’ll come to learn is EDDY HERNDORFF slides across the top. RAY (O.S.): That’s Eddy Herndorff. An old style gangster. Guy’s ruthless. Once cut the muscles out of a guy’s leg with a sword ‘cause he cut him off in traffic. The photo is obscured as a photo of a man affecting the look of a country squire slides across on top of it. RAY: …Gus Filion. Eddy’s main competitor. Sees himself as renaissance guy. These two used to duke it out but they’ve been getting along lately. getting along until… Ray slides a photo of Andreas Volpe across the top. RAY: Andreas Volpe a ???? huffing psychopath comes along upset the balance. Local kid with big ambitions. FRASER: So, it’s your theory that Volpe challenged their authority and was killed as a result? RAY: Yeah you see, Fraser, that’s why we’re policemen. That’s why we figure this kind of thing out. FRASER: Right you are Ray, right you are I think it’s time I paid Mr. Filion a visit. RAY: Fraser, no offence, but these are Chicago hard guys. You can be as polite as you want, but they could have you hanging on a meat hook in thirteen seconds. FRASER: I’m not without my resources, Ray.
TURNBULL sticks his head in the door. TURNBULL: Sir? Your presence? RAY: Your presence? What are you? A king? FRASER: To Turnbull? Yes. Fraser steps out. INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – CONTINUOUS Welsh and Cahill are waiting. Fraser comes through from Thatcher’s office to greet them. FRASER: Lt. Welsh. Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to Canada. WELSH: Fraser. This is Assistant State’s Attorney Cahill. Fraser extends his hand and they shake. FRASER: It’s an honor I’ve seen your posters all around town Sir. Cahill: I’ll come straight to the point. I’d like you to surrender Detective Vecchio to me. FRASER: I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir. The extradition treat between out two countries is very specific – CAHILL: (firmly) We want to Question Vecchio in connection with more than a particularly vicious homicide. Welsh shoots a look at Cahill. CAHILL: I’ve suspected for some time that organized crime has an informant somewhere inside the police department in this city. WELSH: (To Cahill) Sir, I don’t think we have to bother Constable Fraser with this. CAHILL: I want this man to know what he’s interfering with. FRASER: I can put your mind at rest on that point, sir. Ray had nothing to do with that murder. And I can personally vouch for his integrity- CAHILL: And I’m supposed to take your word on that? FRASER: Yes sir. WELSH: (helpfully) You see sir, Constable Fraser doesn’t lie. CAHILL: An admirable quality in times of peace, but we are in the middle of a war, a war against crime and corruption and I demand your cooperation. The city of Chicago demands your co-operation. FRASER: And you shall have it, sir. To the full letter of the law. CAHILL: Are you mocking me? Are you mocking this city and this administration? FRASER: Certainly not, sir. We greatly appreciate the generosity being shown us by the people of Chicago. And I assure you that should you ever be in Nunavut, you’ll never be lacking for a meal. Cahill smiles at him for a second. CAHILL: C’mere. (Fraser leans in) You know this Marquis of Queensbury thong and your grammar and all? Very quaint but just remember who you’re dealing with. We took Grenada, we beat the snot out of Haiti and we knocked Panama on its ass and if needs be, we’ll take this little pisspot too. (the slick exterior returns) Have a nice evening. He and Welsh leave. FRASER: Oh, dear…..I was. FRASER SR: Oh true enough. Fraser comes and sits beside him. He looks at the fire a beat, composing his thoughts. FRASER: Dad, you always told me that the most important thing a man can do is his duty. (off Fraser’s Sr.’s not of agreement) I’m embarking on a somewhat devious course of action. I’m not entirely sure where my duty actually lies. FRASER SR.: In 1961. FRASER: Alright. FRASER SR.: I was ordered to help a group of Inuit families relocate five hundred miles further north on Ellesmere Island. We were having some dispute with the Russians – this was long before the Canada Cup – and we wanted to demonstrate our sovereignty over the far north. Now, I’d been up to Ellesmere Island and I knew life there would be hard if not impossible. I said as much to my superiors but they were adamant. And I had my orders. FRASER: What did you do? FRASER SR.: The only thing I could do. I went to Ellesmere and I marked out thirty two plots of land, threw up a flag and built a post office. Tom Goforth, a young man from one of the families, lived there alone for the first year, recieveing all of these relocation cheques he forwarded back to the families who used the money to hire a lawyer who won their case against their relocation in court. FRASER: So you created a fictitious town. FRASER SR.: (proudly_ Ellesmere was listed in MacLean’s that year as having the lowest crime rate in North America. (beat) Your heart knows where your duty lies, son. Your head is just there to help with the driving. Fraser nods, gets up and heads for the door. At the door he stops and turns. FRASER: Dad this Tom Goforth, what happened to him? FRASER SR.: He moved to Winnipeg and got a job in a record store. But that’s not relevant to this situation. FRASER: No.
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EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – DAY Huey and Dewey parked outside. Fraser and Diefenbaker come out of the consulate and head off up the street. DEWEY (O.S.): That really a wolf? HUET (O.S.): Can bring down a caribou. [me note: this part in the closet has a line drawn thru it] INT. CONSULATE – FRASER’S OFFICE – CONTINUOUS He closes the outer door, opens his broom closet and steps inside. INT. FRASER SR.’S NORTHERN OUTPOST OFFICE – CONTINUOUS Fraser shuts the door and turns to see that Fraser Sr. is absent. An elderly native man sits at a chair in front of the fire. FRASER: Excuse me. Who, uh… JOE THREE TEETH: Joe Three Teeth. FRASER: Ah. And you’d be…? JOE THREE TEETH: (nods) Dead. FRASER: And my father is…? JOE THREE TEETH: Fishing FRASER: I SEE. Just tell him I dropped by. Thank you Kindly. Fraser steps out of the office.
OMITTED
EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – DAY Huey and Dewey parked outside. Fraser and Diefenbaker come out of the consulate and head off up the street. DEWEY (O.S.): That really a wolf? HUEY (O.S.): Can bring down a caribou. DEWEY: Just the weak ones. It’s know as calling the herd. HUEY (O.S.): Culling. DEWEY (O.S.): What? HUEY (O.S.): Culling the herd. Not calling the herd. Culling. Dewey: What did I say? HUEY: You said…forget it. INT. FILION’S SOCIAL CLUB – DAY Fraser and Diefenbaker come through from the street. Diefenbaker WHINES. Their POV – the back walls of the social club are hung with a few bad kitschy dog art paintings. more are stacked against the wall. SEVERAL HOODS close ranks protectively around Gus Filion who sits at his usual table in the back corner, surrounded by the paintings. Fraser approaches A HOOD playing solitaire at the bar. FRASER: Excuse me I’d like to speak with a Mr. Filion, if I could. HOOD: (menacingly) He’s busy. Diefenbaker GROWLS. FRASER: It’s alright. He goes back to studying his cards. Seems to have no play. Fraser glances at the cards dealt out on the bar, FRASER: (to Hood): May I? If you move the black nine on to the red ten and the Queen to the King and then turn this card over which judging from the card you played should be a six and move the aces up and you’ve won. Nicely played. Hood shoots Fraser a look as Filion approaches. FILION: That a wolf? FRASER: Half wolf, actually. FILION: (re: Fraser’s uniform): That legit? FRASER: Yes. My name is Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of my father and, for reasons that don’t need exploring at this juncture I have remained, attached as liaison [their misspelling, not mine] to the Canadian Consulate. Filion seems to find this amusing. FILION: C’mere… Filion leads Fraser and Diefenbaker to his table in the back. We can see MANY UNFRAMED PAINTING (they could be canvases, they could be boards) stacked against the wall behind his table. Fraser examines the paintings. FILION: I painted all these. I love dogs. Not pansy assed, drop kick dogs, mind you. I mean real dogs. FRASER: You have a deft touch. font color="ff0000"> Surprisingly life like. FILION: (wearily) Ah, it’s something to do. Better than clowns. I hate clowns. I had an experience with a clown once. won’t do them. FRASER: Understandable. FILION: So you’re the one’s got Vecchio stashed away? FRASER: He’s suspected of (killing) shooting a man by the name of Andreas Volpe. FILION: So give him a medal. The Goons laugh obediently. FRASER: He’s innocent of the charge. FILION: You think I did it? FRASER: I have formed no opinion, sir. I’m merely gathering information, proceeding more or less along the lines of a Royal Commission. Filion laughs. FILION: I like you. You can talk. Most cops in this town can barely string a sentence together. FRASER: The Academy stresses language skills just as highly as hand to hand combat and snowmobile repair. GOON #2 steps forward with a Polaroid with flash and takes a photo of Fraser, momentarily blinding him. FILION: I’m gonna paint you both. FRASER: We’d be honoured. FILION: Listen, I had no reason to whack Volpe. Volpe was very useful to me. Volpe had great information. Information is power. But the word is: That Eddie Herndorff was looking for some out of town talent. FRASER: Was he successful? FILION: You be the judge. Fraser’s attention is absorbed by the canvasses. FILION: You like my work? FRASER: Very much. This one I take it would be a homage to Milton Glazer. FILION: That’s right. Take one. Take two, I churn three, four of these out a day. EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – DAY Huey and Dewey watch as SANDOR the pizza guy bops along the street carrying a pizza box. he climbs the steps to the consulate and rings the bell. DEWEY: (re: Sandor) Vecchio eats a lot of pizza. How does he stay so slim, you figure? HUEY: Maybe he works out. DEWEY: When? HUEY: In secret, maybe. DEWEY: When no one’s looking, you mean? HUEY: Maybe. DEWEY: Sneaky guy. INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – DAY Ray pulls Sandor into the lobby and closes the door quickly. Ray grabs the pizza box and opens it. RAY: I said pineapple. It’s clear that Sandor and Ray have a relationship. Sandor is a street punk and one of Ray’s Confidential Informants. Sandor is afraid of Ray. SANDOR: Tony don’t put pineapple on no more. He says it ain’t right for pizza. RAY: What’s Tony, the Surgeon General all of a sudden? (indicating Thatcher’s office) Get in there. INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – DAY Turnbull is watching TV as Ray pushes Sandor into the room. ON THE TV: a northern vista. Wildlife footage and ANNCR (V.O.) (on TV): There are seventeen animals in this landscape, disguised by their natural camouflage. Can you spot the woodchuck? Ray snaps off the TV. RAY: Can you get out. I need the room. TURNBULL: No, no, Ray. In Canada if we wish someone to leave the room we say: Could you please leave the room? RAY: Could you please leave the room before I punch you in the head? TURNBULL: You see, you see how easy that was. We’re making progress here. Hello welcome to Canada. Turnbull slips out. Sandor waits, apprehensively RAY: Alright, Sandor. I know you’re plugged in. Talk to me. What are they saying? Who whacked Volpe? SANDOR: They’re saying maybe you did. They’re saying maybe Herndorff – he’s nuts. They’re saying could have been Filion ‘cause he and Volpe had a beef. RAY: What kind of beef? SANDOR: Nothing serious. Volpe tried to stick a bomb under Filion’s car. RAY: So Filion wacked Volpe? SANDOR: If it wasn’t you and it wasn’t Herndorff. RAY: Alright listen. You get back out there. Spread (Put) the word around (out on the street.) The Mountie wants to see Herndorff. SANDOR: (incredulously) Herndorff? Ain’t nobody want to see Herndorff Ray. RAY: Did you just question my judgement? SANDOR: I did. RAY: What do I have to do now? SANDOR: You have to hit me. RAY: Correct. He backhands Sandor across the top of the head. SANDOR: Thank you Ray. RAY: You’re welcome. Now, get back out there. Sandor scurries from the room.
OMITTED.
INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – DAY Ray cracks open the blinds and sneaks a look out the window. EXT. CONSULATE/STREET – DAY Ray’s POV – through the window. The Chicago PD car sits at the curb. Huey and Dewey still at their posts. INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – DAY Ray closes the blinds. RAY: Dammit…. INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – CONTINUOUS Turnbull is engrossed in the TV. Ray enters. TURNBULL: Canada and Denmark are going into extra ends. Ray stands in front of the set, forcing Turnbull to try and peer around him. RAY: I gotta go to the can. TURNBULL: It’s broken. RAY: That’s right. So, I’m going to go across the street. TURNBULL: You can’t. The police are outside. RAY: Right again. That’s why I need your uniform. TURNBULL: Out of the question. RAY: Okay I’ll take a wiz in the sink. Ray takes a couple of steps toward the bathroom. Horrified, Turnbull leaps up and bars the way. TURNBULL: No! Turnbull starts to undress. The phone rings. Ray walks over to it and answers. ANNCR (on TV, almost orgasmic enthusiasm): Oh my… ladies and gentlemen, if curling were to last a thousand years, they will – RAY: Yeah? INT. THE SPA – DAY Thatcher on a massage table, talking on a cell phone while being pummeled by an ATTENDANT. INTERCUT WITH PREVIOUS SCENE THATCHER: Who is this? RAY: (realizing): Oh. It’s the, uh…Embassy. No, it’s not an embassy. It’s, uh…(giving up) What’s this place called again? THATCHER: It’s a consulate and this is Inspector Thatcher. Who is this? RAY: It’s Ray. Thatcher moans – the result of the massage. Ray misinterprets the sound to be an erotic response to the sound of his name. RAY: Ray. (she moans again) It’s Detective Raymond – THATCHER: I know your name detective. (Is Constable Fraser there?) Please, put Constable Fraser on the line. RAY: I can’t do that. Sorry. He’s hanging out with gangsters. THATCHER: I leave for a matter of hours and the whole operation falls apart. Is Constable Turnbull there? RAY: Yeah. Hang on. (cups receiver) Turnbull? It’s the Ice Queen. Phone. Into phone) Ray. (she moans again, Ray cups the receiver) I got the touch. Turnbull steps out of the bathroom, in his underwear and carrying his uniform. He cross the hall, saluting at the Asian family people. EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – DAY Huey and Dewey look up as the front door of the consulate opens and a Mountie emerges, turns away from them and marches away up the street. DEWEY: Ab-Master? HUEY: Could be. Could be a rowing machine. DEWEY: Skip rope, maybe. HUEY: Maybe. DEWEY: But we would hear that. HUEY: Doesn’t matter. ANOTHER ANGLE on the Mountie shows us that it’s Ray wearing Turnbull’s uniform.
OMITTED
EXT. DOWNTOWN STREETS – DAY Fraser is helping a LITTLE OLD LADY across the street. Diefenbaker waits on the corner. Fraser deposits the Little Old Lady on the far curb, tips his hat and returns to Diefenbaker. A SENIOR IN A MOTORIZED WHEELCHAIR, a dayglow orange plastic safety pennant waving on the end of a six or eight foot antenna and his lap covered with a blanket, approaches Fraser. SENIOR: Excuse me, young man. From out of nowhere a van screeches to a halt beside Fraser. The side door slides open. At the same time as The Senior pulls a lethal looking weapon from under his blanket. He levels it at Diefenbaker. SENIOR (to Fraser, gesturing toward the van): Get in or I shoot the dog. Diefenbaker GROWLS. The Senior holds the gun on Diefenbaker while Fraser climbs into the van. From out of the darkness of the interior, a hand pulls Fraser inside. The door slams and he is gone. With a SCREECH OF TIRES, the van does a U-TURN and takes off at high speed. DIEFENBAKER’S POV – as the Van recedes into the distance. REVERSE as Diefenbaker takes off after the van. WIDE ANGLE as Diefenbaker thunders across the intersection, on the trail of the van which has all but disappeared in the distance. END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE INT. AN AUTO BODY SHOP – NIGHT (NIGHT ONE) EDDY HERNDORFF looks up at the sound of a SCUFFLE as TWO THUGS drag the Mountie in, head down, face obscured by his wide brim. They practically throw him into the chair. As THUG #! lashes a couple of lengths of canvas or leather mover’s straps around the Mountie, securing him to the chair, The Mountie raises his head and we see that it is Ray. In the pools of light and shadow that fill the room, we can see that there are several cars in various stages of repair and rebuilding. An engine hangs on a chain from the ceiling, ready to be dropped into a waiting car. Eddy looks at Ray long and hard. He then takes a couple of steps into the shadows and pulls a light cord the ILLUMINATES Fraser who is tied to a chair nearby, at the edge of the shadows. Fraser is as casual as a morning commuter greeting a regular companion. He looks over at Ray in uniform. FRASER: Evening, Ray. RAY: Hello Fraser. FRASER: Not a bad fit, all in all. RAY: Arms are a bit long. FRASER: You could have it altered. RAY: I know a good tailor. HERNDORFF (To Ray): I was you, I had this heat on me, I’d be in some deep hole right now, not out parading around in a red suit. RAY: I came to make you a deal, Eddy. HERNDORFF: (You came to make me a deal.) The whole town’s looking for you, the guy that whacked Volpe and you want to make me a deal? You’re a funny guy, Ray. RAY: Come on, I’m a cop. I didn’t kill Volpe. HERNDORFF (sarcastic) Oh yeah I forgot. That would be illegal. RAY: It was Filion. We both know that. You help me? I’ll nail him. HERNDORFF: Hey, you do your job, I’ll do mine. Herndorff gestures toward one of his men who levels his gun. RAY: (defiant) You gonna kill a cop now, Eddy? That it? You know what happens when you kill a cop? They will hound you to your grave, Eddy. They will hound you beyond your grave. FRASER: Oh, I wouldn’t worry, Ray. Mr. Herndorff has no intention of killing us. RAY: (quietly) I think what is required here is a little something more than sunny optimism Fraser. HERNDORFF: Good ears, Red. FRASER: Thank you. HERNDORFF: And Ray? I think you’re really going to enjoy prison. And they’re gone. Fraser and Ray left, tied to their chairs. We may hear the distant approach of SIRENS. Ray struggles futilely against his bonds. RAY: I’m not going to jail. The food, the conversation, the sexual hi-jinx. I can’t handle it. Fraser sniffs the air. FRASER: You may not have to. Help is on the way. RAY: Oh, yeah? In what form? FRASER: Diefenbaker. I think he followed me. SIRENS becoming audible. [me note: while Ray is calling Dief, Fraser is saying: Ray. Ray. RAY!] RAY: (emits a loud whistle) In here, Come on Dief…. Dief….Dief….What? FRASER: It’s pointless to yell. He’s deaf. We just have to wait for him to find us. They sit quietly. RAY: I’m not that good at waiting. FRASER: Just be patient. Slight pause. RAY: I mean, I’m really not that good at waiting. FRASER: Shh. Slight pause. RAY: I was three weeks premature. What’s that tell you? FRASER: That you’re not that good at waiting. Here he comes. Diefenbaker appears in front of them. He starts licking Ray’s face. RAY: Come on. come on…Hey, hey I think he likes me. FRASER: It’s the pizza. Fraser catches Diefenbaker’s eye. ANGLE SHOWS a car in the process of being taped for painting. A matte knife lays on the hood of the car beside a roll of tape. Fraser directs Dief’s attention in that direction with his eyes while FRASER: Dief –Savic altuneat. Diefenbaker crosses to the car. FRASER (off Ray’s look): Inuktitut. It’s a slightly less complex language. Easier for him to read. RAY: What does it mean? Diefenbaker fetches the knife from the hood of the car and brings it behind Fraser. FRASER (isn’t it obvious?) Bring the matte knife from the hood of that car and apply it to the ties that bind us. Fraser’s hands as he takes the knife from Diefenbaker and starts to cut through the ropes holding him. The SIRENS get louder. Ray gets more anxious. RAY: Ties that bind us…come on, come on. Fraser cuts through his ropes and jumps to his feet as we hear the POLICE CARS pull up outside. Fraser attacks Ray’s bonds while FRASER (to Diefenbaker): Tuaviinnaaluk ullaniaqquht nuqqattailiutiiu kisiani tikiutiguut ijiqsimavittiavanunit qanuiqunatit. RAY: Meaning? FRASER: Hide. As Fraser struggles with Ray’s bonds, Diefenbaker takes off toward the back door. SLAMMING OF DOORS AND COPS BARKING ORDERS. cops ENTER, PROMINENT AMONG THEM IS Kilrea. KILREA: I want the entire place searched. Every inch. See if somebody can find the lights. Let’s go. ANGLE SHOWS Fraser and Ray jammed against the rafters, pressing with their hands and feet to keep themselves aloft while the search goes on below. KILREA: Two guys in red suits, people. How hard can it be? COSE ON Fraser and Ray who is straining, sweating, about to lose his grip. Fraser, on the other hand, looks like he could stay there for days. FRASER: You alright? RAY: Good. FRASER: You’re okay? RAY: Good. FRASER: You’re sure? RAY: Pants itchy. FRASER (encouraging him): You know Ray…. I once hung like this for close to 13 hours under a suspension bridge with a Mountain Cat swiping at me from above. She tore my lanyard and ripped my epaulet. RAY: What happened? FRASER: Fortunately, the Nuns at Fort MacLeod practice invisible mending. FRASER: …Shhh…. Below A COP runs up to Kilrea. COP: The place is clean. KILREA: Alright, let’s get out of here. The cops trot out. Leaving the place empty. ON FRASER FRASER: I knew you could do it. RAY: Thank you. A beat. Then Ray plummets through frame, crashing onto the soft top (or onto the back seat) of a CONVERTIBLE parked below. [me note: the word OMIT is written for this scene] INT. CONSULATE – FRASER’S OFFICE – NIGHT ray is working the muscle in his strained arm. Fraser is handing Ray some fresh clothes from his drawer. FRASER: You can wear these. Ray holds up the plaid flannel shirt as if it were a specimen. RAY: Come on, not the flannel. FRASER: I’m sure Turnbull will return your clothes tomorrow. You can sleep in here. I’ll take the couch in the office. RAY: Sleep? Who can sleep? FRASER: Well, eventually, you have to, Ray. Sleep deprivation is one of the leading causes of domestic and industrial accidents. It’s been estimated that the average adult suffers from… Ray is asleep. [me note: end of what they wrote to be omitted] THE CONSULATE DOOR BELL RINGS INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – NIGHT Fraser opens the door to Lt. Welsh. FRASER (heartily) Lieutenant Welsh how nice to see you. WELSH: (pushing past him) Nice to see you Fraser. Are you going to let us stand out here all night? FRASER: Oh sorry sir. This way. Welsh: We got to talk. FRASER: We can talk in my office. WELSH: It’s this guy Cahill. FRASER: It’s a little further back…It’s the cozy room back here. INT. CONSULATE – HALL OUTSIDE FRASER’S OUTSIDE – NIGHT Ray, wearing Fraser’s clothes, taps on the door. FRASER (O.S.): Yes. RAY: Who you talking to in there? FRASER: Come in, Ray. INT. CONSULATE – FRASER’S OFFICE – NIGHT Fraser, Ray and Welsh are crowded knee to knee. FRASER: Lt. Welsh was just informing me that Assistant States Attorney Cahill has filed a special request with out Department of External Affairs to expedite your extradition. RAY: Come again? WELSH: It means at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, They’re going to come in hear and haul your ass outta here. Do you spend all day in here. FRASER: I go out for lunch. RAY: Look Lieutenant, I had nothing to do with that murder. WELSH: I believe you. RAY: I – (caught off guard) You do? WELSH: We know there’s a rat in Major Crime. He musta been leaking to Volpe. So No matter what we threw at Volpe, he was ???? to walk. Fraser, there’s got to be twenty rooms in this place (house) ( building) Why (did you pick) this one? FRASER: The others are less intimate. RAY: It’s Kilrea. Check his arrest stats. I’m telling you, the guy’s dirty. Herndorff turns me in, who does he call? His little buddy Kilrea. FRASER: Was Kilrea on the range the morning you qualified? RAY: I don’t know. WELSH: It’d be easy enough to find out. FRASER: What about the officer on the scene at the shooting, Tibbet. Has anyone spoken to her? WELSH: I.A. told us to butt out. RAY: She’s a sick puppy, needs a valium the size of a cheeseburger.
Omitted
INT. DOWNSCALE GYM/BOXING CLUB – NIGHT TIBBET wears boxing clothes with heavy gloves. She’s in the ring with a male sparring partner who seems overmatched against Tibbet’s ferocity. Fraser stands at the corner. TIBBIT: I’m sick and tired of people telling me I’m uptight. I am not uptight! I am alert. There’s a difference between uptight and alert! FRASER: I couldn’t agree more. TIBBET: Does society want laid back cops? I don’t think so. We are in the middle of a war here! And I am on the front lines! No street shoes in the gym. FRASER: I anticipated as much and have taken precautions. He lifts a leg to show he is wearing discardable paper booties over his regulation boots. FRASER: I’m curious. Didn’t Detective Vecchio identify himself to you as a police officer? TIBBET: Anyone can say that. You drop your guard for second and they drop you. FRASER: Officer Tibbet, I am sure Detective Vecchio shot Mr. Volpe. It would help me enormously if you could tell me exactly what you saw. TIBBET: Look, I knew something was going to go down in that alley. FRASER: Instinct? TIBBET: Phone call. And, yeah, I was on edge, but I wasn’t on edge like I was the last time. FRASER: The last time? TIBBET: When I shot the kid. I was exonerated, you know. Big deal. I know what they say: she’s a woman, women can’t handle the pressure of the job. That’s a load of crap. I would be every bit as ready to snap if I were a man! Tibbet knocks her sparring partner into the corner. FRASER: I’m sure you would. Fraser whispers a few words of advice into the Sparring Partner’s ear. TIBBET: (challenging) You don’t believe me? FRASER: I’m sure you’re quite capable of snapping, regardless of your sex. You say you got a phone call. Do you know who it was from? TIBBET: He didn’t say. But I know I recognized the voice. A guy I’d met a couple of times. Worked for Damon Cahill. Sparing partner, invigorated by Fraser’s advice, goes after Tibbet. Tibbet nails him cold with one punch. Partner drops like a bag of cement. FRASER: Oh, you’re a switch hitter, very cleaver. (to fallen sparing partner) My mistake.
OMITTED
END OF ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
OMITTED
EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – NIGHT Huey and Dewey watching from their car. Their POV – Sandor bops along the street, carrying a pizza box. DEWEY: Another pizza? HUEY: Definitely working out. Maybe in the pool. 30 laps a day at least. DEWEY: Could be aerobics. HUEY: I’m starving. He holds is badge out the window. HUEY: Hey, buddy. C’mere. INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – NIGHT Ray holds the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he stares aghast at the open pizza box. Half of the pizza is missing. Fraser is at the fax machine. RAY: I’m not paying for their pizza! That’s thiefery - and there’s pineapple. SANDOR: No one tells Tony how to make pizza. He lefts Russia to be free. FRASER: I think it’s quite tasty. RAY: Right, like your favorite toppings aren’t blubber and lichen. (And some sort of animal dropping) FRASER (reading the fax): Kilrea was at the firing range. This is interesting. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He’d qualified the day before. RAY: (into phone) Thanks. (hangs up) Officer J.P.Tibbet. Shot a kid last year. when she was working on the Organized Crime Task Force. SANDOR: I’m having a drink there’s this guy, definitely O.C., big mouth you know, he was saying how Filion brought him in on this big job. Here’s the kicker he had this stinking painting with him. Said Filion gave him. It was like a rotwieller playing poker with his friends or something. Ray looks at Fraser. Fraser confirms. FRASER: Filion. RAY: Filion. Herndorff. Cahill. Kilrea. Got the making of a bonspiels[me note: means curling tournaments] (Ray’s face falls) FRASER: What wrong? RAY: (disconsolate) I just made a curling reference. I gotta lie down. He steps out. Sandor coughs. FRASER: Oh. Payment. SANDOR: That would be nice. Although I realise we are in Canada, I can only accept in American currency. Loud bark – it’s Diefenbaker. Fraser walks out of the room without paying INT. CONSULATE – NEAR A BACK ENTRANCE – NIGHT Fraser comes upon Ray whose path is blocked by Diefenbaker. RAY: Come on, you stupid dog fetch get out of the way. Let me go. FRASER: Ray. Ray turns to face Fraser. Slight pause. FRASER: Where are you going? RAY: Ha, I can’t just sit here waiting for Cahill and his goons to show up and arrest me. I’ve got too do something. FRASER: Do what, Ray? And where? Everyone in the city, on both sides of the law is looking for you. RAY: That may be but I gotta do something. FRASER: Yes, you do. You have to trust me. RAY: Trust you? Fraser, I don’t even know if I trust me. I mean, I don’t think I whacked Volpe but I can’t remember the details so for all I know is that might have been my finger on that trigger. FRASER: You did not shoot that man. RAY: What makes you so sure, huh? How can you be so sure? FRASER: Because I know you. You’re my partner. You’re my friend. RAY: Is that hard to say? FRASER: Not in the least. RAY: Call your dog off? FRASER: I’m afraid I can’t do that, let’s watch some curling. The two men stare at one another.EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – MORNING (DAY TWO) POV HUEY AND DEWEY – through the windshield of their car – Dewey is shaving with an electric razor. Huey combs his hair in the rearview. DEWEY: So we agree on that he’s on some kind of program? HUEY: Some kind of regiment, yeah. Beat. DEWEY: I could take him. HUEY: You think so? DEWEY: Easy. A black car pulls up in front of the consulate. Eddy Herndorff gets out of the back of his car across the street, takes a quick look around and disappears inside the consulate. Huey grabs his phone and starts dialing. DEWEY: Wasn’t that- HUEY: Yeah. (into phone) Lieutenant Welsh… [me note: This scene has OMIT by it] INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – MORNING Fraser and Ray are escorting Herndorff and Filion who are very wary of each other. HERNDORFF: (TO Fraser): You said this would be to my benefit. FILION: Anything that is to his advantage is at my expense. FRASER: That is not necessarily so. There are areas of mutual interest. EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – MORNING A flotilla of POLICE CARS – BOTH PATROL CARS AND UNMARKED – descend on the Consulate from all directions. They park haphazardly in all directions, blocking off the street. A black van belonging to U.S. Marshalls pulls up. As well Shelley Byron’s Channel Ten news truck. Much slamming of car doors as they assemble. Cahill gets out of one car. Kilrea gets out of another. Huey and Dewey get out of their car. Cahill is flanked by SEVERAL US MARSHALLS in blue wind breakers, shields displayed, guns at the ready. Kilrea approaches. KILREA: You got the papers? CAHILL: Oh yeah. (to the Marshalls) Alright, men. Follow me. ANGLE INCLUDES Shelley Byron and her CAMERAMAN filming Cahill’s every move. Shelly: Hi… CAHILL (to Shelley, ever mindful of the camera) This OK for you? INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – CONTINUOUS ON THE TELEVISION – Shelley Byron doing her stand up right outside the door. SHELLEY (on TV) This is Shelley Byron, live from the steps of the Canadian Consulate. The camera PANS to Cahill who is rubbing chapstick onto is lips just before he says CAHILL: (on TV) AD LIB – re: “intentions” Ok, let’s do it. REVERSE shows us the look of concern on Fraser’s face as he watches the tv. EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – CONTINUOUS Everyone is crowed around the door. Cahill is about to pound on the door when it is opened by Fraser. FRASER: Ah, good morning. CAHILL I have a signed order here for the extradition of Raymond Vecchio. FRASER: Certainly, won’t you please come in. The Marshalls start through the door when Fraser stops the first one. Turnbull: You’re fine. Excuse me. (checking for firearms) Thank you. Marshall #1 stops and turns, quizzically. FRASER: Oh I’m terribly sorry sir but we do not permit firearms on the premises. KILREA: What the hell is he talking about? FRASER: (opening his holster to show that it is empty_ we have very strict gun laws in Canada. Murmurs of anger and frustration. FRASER: I don’t make the rules, I only enforce them. And I took an oath similar to the one that you gentlemen took, I should imagine. (an afterthought) Without the references to the Queen, of course. The crowd relaxes. Fraser has reached them. INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – MOMENTS LATER Turnbull is sitting at a table while Fraser stands beside him, supervising as The Cops crowd around the table as if it were a coat check. Turnbull is taking the guns and handing tickets to the individual cops. MARSHALL #1 crankily lays his high tech gun on the table. Turnbull gives it a quick glance. FRASER: Mr. Cahill. TURNBULL: (scribbling officiously on a form ) Oh, sir, a twotone baretta, model 92, 9 millimeter holds 11 rounds in the magazine, sporting a muzzle velocity of 2000 feet per second. (the Marshall nods) Very nice.
Fraser: Very nice indeed. TURNBULL: (handing the Marshall the ticket) Here you go. Turnbull takes guns from Huey and Dewey. TURNBULL (handing them tickets) Thank you. Enjoy the show. Fraser, at the same time takes a gun from Kilrea and hands him a ticket. FRASER: Thank you. (indicating Thatcher’s office) Please go right in. Thank you kindly. Shelley Byron and her Cameraman are getting it all on tape. EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – CONTINUOUS An AIRPORT LIMO comes down the street and stops when its path is blocked by the phalanx of police cars. THE BACK WINDOW goes down to reveal Thatcher, her bags beside her on the seat. Her hair done in tight little rows of beaded cornrows. She is horrified by what she sees. As she pays the driver. This is as close as the limo can get. Thatcher gets out with her bags and starts to walk toward the consulate. She is stopped by a UNIFORM OFFICER. UNIFORM: I’m sorry, ma’am. You can’t go in there. THATCHER: That’s my building. She pushes past him. THATCHER: None of these cars are properly parked. UNIFORM: Ma’am..? He reaches to stop her but she twists away from him and continues inside. INT. CONSULATE – THATCHER’S OFFICE – MOMENTS LATER Fraser is addressing the assembled multitude. FRASER: Andreas Volpe was a man who made a lot of enemies. One of those enemies killed him. The question is, which one. Was it Eddie Herndorff a ruthless competitor whose role he was trying to usurp. ON HERNDORFF HERNDORFF: I don’t have to listen to this. He starts to head for the door Ray steps between him and the exit. Herndorff hesitates, decides not to force a confrontation. FRASER: Or was it Mr. Filion? Mr. Filion claims that he was receiving information from Volpe. But was the information costing too much? FILION: You’re a smart guy. Mountie, but it doesn’t pay to be too smart. FRASER: Maybe that was Mr. Volpe’s problem. Maybe he was too smart. (beat) He certainly had information, but where did he get it? Maybe from his contact inside the justice department. Someone who offered him the protection of his office in exchange for information relating to criminal activities. ON CAHILL CAHILL: (a laugh) You suggesting I was leaking to Volpe? FRASER: (innocently) I don’t recall mentioning your name Mr. Cahill. CAHILL: Anybody else here fit the description? Cahill glares at him. FRASER: Maybe it was a Cop. He looks at Kilrea. FRASER: A man who made a deal with the devil and who then decided that Volpe had become a liability instead of an asset. KILREA moves towards the door. Ray’s moving with him from behind. Asians fill out forms in commotion. FRASER: Fortunately, we don’t have to speculate any longer. He holds up an envelope. FRASER: The killer was not alone in that alley. There was a witness to the murder. A witness who is afraid to come forward, but has placed a sworn affidavit in this envelope and delivered it to me. Turnbull produces a sealed envelope. CAHILL: That’s evidence in an ongoing criminal investigation. He steps forward. CAHILL: Hand it over immediately or I’ll have you arrested for obstruction of justice. FRASER: Well certainly. Just let me (but allow me to)open it first. He starts to open the envelope. Cahill hesitates a moment, but can’t restrain himself. He leaps forward and grabs the envelope out of Fraser’s hand. He clutches it desperately in his hand, suddenly aware that all eyes in the room, including the unblinking eye of the television camera, are on him. CAHILL: It’s evidence…I have every right… But he can see no one is convinced. FRASER: In point of fact, it’s a blank piece of paper. But it would seem to have proved most revealing. Cahill looks around wildly. SOUND (SO) THE FRONT DOOR of the consulate opens, someone comes in and the door closes. Eyes flash around the room as Thatcher enters. THATCHER: Get your hands off me!! Ray and Fraser exchange a look through the crowd. Cahill grabs Thatcher while pulling a gun from his belt. He jabs the gun into her back. He backs her up toward the door. FRASER: (indication the camera): What are you going to do? There are millions of people watching you. CAHILL: It didn’t hurt O.J. Try to follow me and I kill her. He drags Thatcher out into the foyer EXT. CANADIAN CONSULATE – DAY Cahill drags Thatcher out through the front door. THATCHER: (as if they’re at a cocktail party) Didn’t I meet you at the Chilean Consulate party. INT. CONSULATE – FOYER – CONTINUOUS TURNBULL: The ticket has to match the gun. All the other cops are scrambling to find their own guns; a bit of confusion as they find that their tickets don’t match their guns. Eventually everyone has something in their hand. EXT. STREET NEAR THE CONSULATE – CONTINUOUS Cahill makes his way to the most accessible car. He tries to shove Thatcher inside but she resists. Fraser runs after them, alone. He didn’t wait for a gun. FRASER: Cahill. Cahill turns to face Fraser. He has Thatcher in his grasp and a gun pointed at Fraser. Yet Fraser seems supremely confident. FRASER: I’ll count to three. One. CAHILL: Wait a minute. I’ve got the gun here. FRASER: Two. CAHILL: What have you got? Cahill cocks the gun. THATCHER: Me. Thatcher drives her elbow into Cahill’s solar plexus. He doubles over, out of air. Thatcher grabs his flailing gun hand by the wrists and whips it in a circle, throwing Cahill into a somersault from which he does not get up. Thatcher and Fraser face each other across the fallen body. FRASER (knowing an explanation is required) First off, may I say that the spa seems to have done wonder for both your muscle tone and your reflexes. But your sunburn on the other hand…perhaps I could recommend a concoction I made from the mucus… DISSOLVE TO: EXT. STREET OUTSIDE CONSULATE – LATER Thatcher approaches Ray and Fraser. THATCHER: Fraser, I’ll expect your report on my desk by 0900 hours and if your explanation is not satisfactory you can expect to be transferred to Ba—n Island. FRASER: Understood Sir. RAY: Call me…Ray. Thatcher stares at him as though he’s insane. RAY: What did you arrest me for? FRASER: Espionage. RAY: That’s good. FRASER: Yes. And I think with a lenient judge you can anticipate a reduced jail term. RAY: Oh yeah right like you’re really going to charge me. FRASER: I already have Ray. RAY: I thought it was a trick. FRASER: A trick? No Ray these are very grave, serious and formal charges. We’ll fight them of course. RAY: And I could go to jail. FRASER: Well I’m fairly confident we can arrange for special disporsation and you can serve your time on weekends here at the consulate. RAY: No. Oh no! FRASER: Ray… RAY: You want me, you extradite me cause I’m in the United States of America. FRASER: That’s very cleaver Ray… And he starts to run. Fraser watches him go. END OF SHOW INT. FRASER SR.S NORTHERN OUTPOST OFFICE – CONTINUOUS Fraser shuts the door and turns so see that Fraser Sr. is absent. An elderly native man sits at a chair in front of the fire. FRASER: Excuse me. Who, uh… JOE: Joe. FRASER: Ah. And you’d be…? JOE: (nods) Dead. FRASER: And my father is…? JOE: Fishing. FRASER: I see. Well could you just tell him I stopped by. Oh and could you also tell him JOE: it worked. FRASER: Yes. Thank you kindly. Fraser exits room.
