as tight as guitar strings. Maybe we see here how suspects are sometimes shot by accident.
MIKE Hands together.
LINOGE puts his hands together, wrist to wrist and back to back.
83 OMIT.
84 EXTERIOR: IN FRONT OF MARTHA'S HOUSE.
Several TOWNSFOLK hurry forward as far as the trunk of ROBBIE'S car. One is an older woman named ROBERTA COIGN.
ROBERTA COIGN
What's happened to Martha?
ROBBIE
(shrill, near hysteria) Just stay back! This is under control!
He points his pistol at the house again, and I think we have a real question about what may happen when and if MIKE and HATCH bring their prisoner out. ROBBIE is on a hair trigger.
85 INTERIOR: THE LIVING ROOM OF MARTHA'S HOUSE.
Extreme close-up, cuffs
MIKE (voice) If he moves, shoot him.
CAMERA DRAWS BACK TO INCLUDE LINOGE, MIKE, HATCH
LINOGE
(low, pleasant, and composed)
If he shoots, he'll get us both. That thing's still loaded with buckshot.
Both men react to this. Not because it's true, but because it could be true. Hell, HATCH might blow a hole through MIKE in any case; the two men are quite close together.
LINOGE
Also, he's still got the safety on.
HATCH reacts with terrified realization: he has forgotten to take off the safety. While MIKE inexpertly fumbles the cuffs onto LINOGE'S wrists, HATCH fumbles the safety off. As he does, the gun leaves the vicinity of LINOGE completely. We need to see that LINOGE could take these two courageous but fumbling locals any time he wants . . . but chooses not to do so.
The cuffs are on. MIKE steps back, very relieved. He and HATCH exchange a rather wild look.
LINOGE But you remembered to wear gloves. That was good.
He begins to eat the cookie, oblivious of his blood-streaked hand.
MIKE On your feet.
LINOGE finishes the last bite of cookie and gets obediently to his feet.
86 EXTERIOR: MARTHA CLARENDON'S PORCH.
Beyond it, the snow is now coming hard, with the wind driving it into slanting lines. The houses on the far side of the street are misty, as if seen through a veil.
MIKE and LINOGE come out side by side, LINOGE with his hands cuffed at belt level, a look all of us are familier with from the evening news. HATCH is walking behind them, with the shotgun at port arms.
In the street, there are now about a dozen people clustered by the rear bumper of ROBBIE'S Lincoln. When the men come out, ROBBIE crouches a little, and MIKE sees the man's little glove compartment gun pointed at them.
MIKE
Put that down!
Looking slightly ashamed, ROBBIE does.
MIKE Hatch, close the door.
HATCH
Is that wise? I mean, aren't we supposed to leave stuff pretty much like it is? It being a crime scene, and all
MIKE
We leave the door open and the crime scene's going to be under six feet of fresh powder. Now close the door!
HATCH tries. One of MARTHA'S shoes is in the way. He squats. Grimacing, he moves her foot with one gloved hand. Then he gets up and closes the door. He looks at MIKE, who nods.
MIKE What's your name, mister?
LINOGE looks at him. There's a beat when we're not sure he's going to answer. Then:
LINOGE
Andre Linoge.
MIKE
Well, come on, Andre Linoge. Let's get walking.
87 EXTERIOR: LINOGE, CLOSE-UP.
For just a moment, LINOGE'S eyes CHANGE. They SWIRL WITH BLACK, the blue irises and the whites disappearing. Then everything goes back to normal.
88 EXTERIOR: RESUME PORCH, WITH MIKE, HATCH, AND LINOGE.
MIKE blinks at the sight like a man trying to cope with a momentary attack of vertigo. HATCH hasn't seen it, but MIKE has. LINOGE smiles at him, as if to say "our little secret." Then we see MIKE'S rationality reasserting itself, and he gives LINOGE a poke.
MIKE Come on. Move.
They go down the steps.
89 EXTERIOR: ON THE CONCRETE PATH.
The storm blows snow past them, smacking their faces, making them wince. HATCH'S hat BLOWS OFF. As he looks helplessly after it, LINOGE gives MIKE that look again, the one that says they have a secret. MIKE is less able to shake it off this time . . . but he gets LINOGE moving.
FADE OUT. THIS ENDS ACT 3.
Act 4
90 EXTERIOR: THE LITTLE TALL LIGHTHOUSE LATE DAY.
The snow flies past it so thickly we can only make out its shape . . . and of course its light, each time it swings around. The waves CRASH HIGH on the rocks of this promontory. THE WIND SHRIEKS.
91 EXTERIOR: GODSOE FISH & LOBSTER LATE DAY.
This long building part warehouse, part retail fish market is far out on the dock. Waves smash into the dock, and foam splatters high, wetting the sides and