….continuing…
77 INT. NICK’S APARTMENT. LIVING
ROOM. NIGHT
On
Nick’s notice board, alongside the dart board, a photo of a group of Asian men
posing in front of a banner that reads: International Development Commission of
South East Asia.
A
woman’s hand reaches into frame with a text pen, starts to draw a circle around
one of the men.
A
close shot of:
Wing Chou, circled, smiling for
the camera.
PATRICE,
standing in front of Nick’s notice board completes the circle around Wing
Chou’s head. NICK approaches from behind, two glasses of wine in hand.
PATRICE
I’d
like to put a gun to Mr Wing Chou’s head and...
PATRICE
forms her hand into a gun, pulls the trigger.
NICK
places a glass of wine in PATRICE’S hands.
NICK
Patience,
mon cherie!
PATRICE
Fuck
patience. Fuck this country. Fuck Wing Chou.
A
LITTLE LATER
PATRICE
sits in front of Nick’s laptop, looks at still photos, in sequence, as they are
displayed on the screen:
Kek
getting out the car, looking around, walking through the gate and into the
palatial mansion.
PATRICE
No
older than 13. Maybe younger. That poor girl...
PATRICE
clenches her fists in anger. NICK wraps his arms around her comfortingly.
PATRICE’S
hate-filled eyes are focused on an:
EXTREME
CLOSE UP of:
Wing
Chou, circled, smiling.
78. EXT. GARDEN. NICK’S
APARTMENT. DAY
PATRICE
talks to KATIE’S camera.
PATRICE
I
wanted to kill him. Fuck him. Fuck men with power...with power and
money...money and power...
KATIE
Does
Stair fall into that category?
PATRICE (laughs)
Yes.
And no. A complex kettle...
She
waves the thought away.
KATIE
flicks some pages of the note-book in her lap.
KATIE
So,
when you and Stair arrived at Nick’s burnt out...
PATRICE
Pass.
(A BEAT) Not now. Maybe after another glass of wine.
KATIE
consults her notes again.
KATIE (nods)
How
about your...’fight’ with Stair? (A BEAT) Later in the day.
PATRICE
My
fight with Stair! Mmmm...
79 INT. LIVING ROOM. NICK’S
APARTMENT. DAY
2014
PATRICE,
dressed as she was when she saw Nick’s skeletal remains, stands in the middle
of the room; frozen in shock and grief.
PATRICE
Why
am I telling you all this? (A BEAT) Am I going to regret it?
After
a long moment, staring into space, she walks to the bedroom, lies on the bed -
staring at the ceiling.
PATRICE
leaps to her feet, walks purposefully back into the living room, stands in
front of the notice board. She stares at the photo with Wing Chou’s smiling
face circled. It has been connected with coloured thread to various other faces
on the notice board. PATRICE takes a dart out of the board.
80 INT. BATHROOM. NICK’S APARTMENT.
DAY
PATRICE
stands under the shower; emotionally overwhelmed.
81 INT. NICK’S BEDROOM. DAY
PATRICE,
in a sarong, lies on the bed, buries her face in a pillow, sniffs it, starts to
cry. She closes her eyes.
LATER
It
is dusk now. PATRICE awakens suddenly, startled, sits up.
PATRICE
Nick!
Through
the doorway she can see STAIR, as startled as she is.
STAIR
No,
its me. Stair.
PATRICE
is totally disoriented for a moment before the reality of where she is and what
has happened sinks in. She stands, adjusts her sarong, walks into:
82 NICK’S APARTMENT, LIVING ROOM.
DUSK
PATRICE
walks into the room. STAIR is standing in front of Nick’s notice board, a copy
of Joseph Conrad’s HEART OF DARKNESS in one hand; a glass of wine in the other.
PATRICE (voice off)
Nick
didn’t call you a cunt.
STAIR
I’ve
been called worse.
PATRICE
What’s
worse than ‘cunt’?
STAIR
No
cunt. (A BEAT) Sorry, that was below the belt.
PATRICE
smiles, picks up his glass of wine, drains it.
STAIR
leans close to the notice board, looks at the circled photo of Wing Chou - a
dart piercing one of his eyes. STAIR turns to PATRICE, raises an eye-brow
questioningly.
PATRICE
Prime
suspect numero uno...
STAIR
nods, looks at PATRICE a moment then down at the book in his hands.
PATRICE
He
loves that book.
STAIR
places it back on the table.
STAIR
You
got any more wine?
PATRICE
No,
but I think I’ve got a bottle of Port here somewhere.
She
gets up, moves to the kitchen area, searches cupboards.
STAIR
sifts amongst the clutter on Nick’s desk, as if looking for something. In the
background PATRICE holds up a bottle:
PATRICE
Voila.
Not my cup of tea but...
She
rejoins STAIR - bottle of Port and two glasses in hand.
PATRICE
Any
port in a storm.
PATRICE
pours two glasses of Port, hands one to STAIR.
PATRICE
To
Nick.
She
holds up her glass. STAIR holds up his, clink’s Patrices’
PATRICE
Why
did you and Nick hate each other?
STAIR
Did
Nick say he hated me?
PATRICE
shakes her head.
STAIR
So,
he didn’t say I was a cunt and he didn’t say he hated me!
PATRICE
I’m
joining the dots. I think what he hated was that...
STAIR
raises his hand to discourage further questioning.
PATRICE
You
guys have at least one thing in common. Had.
She
mimics his ”I don’t want to talk about it” gesture.
PATRICE
I’m
sorry for what happened back...
STAIR
smiles, holds up his hand - parodying himself. PATRICE laughs, holds up her
hand, mimics Stair’s gesture. He smiles.
PATRICE
But
there are a lot of people who will be happy Nick is dead. (A BEAT) And he would
not have gone wherever he was going without an interpreter.
STAIR
Where
was he going?
PATRICE
He
wouldn’t tell me.
STAIR
Why?
PATRICE
I
don’t know. He told me most things but there were some things... And this was
the only time I saw him scared. I mean, really scared.
She
looks at STAIR, waiting for some kind of response.
PATRICE
You’re
not...curious?
STAIR
My
curiosity is not going to bring Nick back. (A BEAT) Some dots are best left
unjoined.
PATRICE
But
you’re a lawyer. I would have thought...
STAIR
Was.
Joining dots drove me crazy.
PATRICE
takes another slug of her port, disappears into her own memories, worries,
questions. STAIR looks at her. She looks back at him, tears in her eyes.
PATRICE
Yes,
you can drive yourself crazy trying to join dots...but...
STAIR
And
you can drive yourself even crazier ending sentences with ‘but, dot, dot, dot’
PATRICE
smiles through her tears.
PATRICE
You
and Nick are more alike than you think.
STAIR (laughs)
Are
you aware of how often you leap to conclusions about what I think.
PATRICE
If
you play your cards close to your chest, leaping to conclusions, joining dots
is all I can do, if...
STAIR
If?
PATRICE
takes another slug of port. She is tipsy now.
PATRICE
If
I want to understand...
STAIR
What?
PATRICE
You
STAIR
Is
that important? That you understand me?
PATRICE
You’re
Nick’s brother.
STAIR
Did
you understand him?
PATRICE
laughs, shakes her head.
PATRICE
I
thought I did, but...there I go again. But, but, but...I don’t understand
myself so why the fuck should I...presume to be able to understand Nick...or
anyone else?
STAIR
looks at her, intrigued. Their eyes meet for a moment.
PATRICE
You
mind if I asked you a personal question...about you and Nick?
STAIR
If
I did mind, would you ask it anyway?
PATRICE (laughs)
Just
like your brother. (A BEAT) Probably, after another glass of wine.
STAIR
If
its the one I think you want to ask, the answer is yes.
PATRICE
Yes,
I can ask it?
STAIR
No,
yes I would mind. Do mind. Let sleeping dogs lie.
They
look at each other for a long moment.
PATRICE drains her glass, stands, walks out of the room.
STAIR
picks up his mobile, starts to write a text message.
PATRICE
walks back into the room, holding the photo of Stair and Nick, as boys.
She
hands it to NICK. He looks at the photo, though cracked glass, of:
Stair,
aged 16 and Nick, aged 13, tennis rackets in one hand and the other wrapped
around their brother’s shoulder, smiling for the camera.
STAIR
looks at it for a moment, then at PATRICE.
PATRICE
It
looks like you were close. (A BEAT) Once upon a time?
STAIR
looks back at the photo.
PATRICE
But
then...? What? Twelve years ago. Thirteen? What happened? (A BEAT) Nick
wouldn’t tell me and, hey, I know I’m joining dots again but...it drives me
crazy not knowing. And it, whatever ‘it’ was, drove Nick crazy too, even if he
tried hard to pretend he didn’t give a fuck, just like you pretend you don’t
give a fuck that your brother is dead. Maybe murdered. I think murdered, but...but,
but, but...
PATRICE
notices that STAIR’S hands are shaking.
PATRICE
You
know how that crack got to be there?
STAIR
makes a gesture with his shaking hand: stop.
PATRICE
One
night, I asked him about another photo I had seen...
STAIR
Stop.
PATRICE
It
was a photo he didn’t want me to see. Hidden...
STAIR
For
fuck’s sake, Patrice, stop. Please.
PATRICE
nods, takes another slug of port. STAIR’S whole body is shaking now. He tries
to hide it and is embarrassed that she is seeing him in this state.
PATRICE
takes one of his hands in her own. Their eyes meet for a long moment. STAIR
tries to extricate his hand from PATRICE’S but she won’t let go of it.
A
loud ‘ping’ emanates from STAIR’S mobile phone.
PATRICE
Ignore
it.
STAIR
ignores it, pulls his hand free of PATRICE’S. He holds his hands tightly
together, trying to stop them shaking.
His
mobile ‘pings’ again. He picks it up, reads the text message, looks out into
the gathering darkness.
PATRICE
Bad
news?
STAIR
Not
good news.
PATRICE
Worse
than your brother being murdered?
STAIR
ignores her, starts to write a text message.
PATRICE
Will
you please turn that fucking thing off?
STAIR
ignores her, continues writing his text message.
PATRICE,
furious, grabs the bottle of Port, fills her glass, glares at STAIR.
PATRICE
Hey,
my brother just died. Maybe it was an accident, maybe he was murdered but I
don’t give a shit because, hey, I’m a bigshot corporate lawyer and I’ve got
this big fucking deal happening and I’m going to make megabucks if I play my
cards right and, hey, I hated my brother anyway, so...shit happens...
STAIR
You
don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.
PATRICE
Enlighten
me.
STAIR
Why
the fuck would I want to do that?
PATRICE
grabs his mobile phone, runs to the other side of a couch, takes a slug of
Port.
STAIR
stands stock still, fists clenched but willing himself to remain calm.
PATRICE
reads his text message:
PATRICE
“Tell
them whatever you need to tell them to keep them calm for the next 24 hours.”
She
laughs, shakes her head, takes another slug of Port.
PATRICE
“Tell
them whatever you need?” Lie, you mean? This is what you need to get back to
Sydney for, isn’t it? A deal that can only happen if you lie? How much money
are you going to make, Alistair?
STAIR
is ready to explode but holding it in. Just!
PATRICE
Alistair?
Stair? No wonder Nick hated you. You’re a shallow, venal...
STAIR
moves to walk around the couch, his hand held out.
STAIR
Give
it to me.
PATRICE
shakes her head, drains the rest of her Port, throws the glass at the wall. It
smashes.
As
they circle around the couch, PATRICE opens Stair’s photos folder, flicks
through them manically.
A
wide shot of the skeleton in the driver’s seat stop her in her tracks. She
freezes, in shock. Her hands begin to shake. She glares at STAIR, madness in
her eyes.
PATRICE
Why?
STAIR
Give
it to me.
She
flicks through to:
A closer
shot of the skeleton.
PATRICE
Why
did you take these?
The
skeletal hands holding the steering wheel.
PATRICE
What
kind of monster are you? Ghoul! Vampire! How dare you!
STAIR
leaps over the couch, tries to wrestle the mobile from her. She screams like a
banchee; knees him hard in the groin.
STAIR
doubles over in pain for a moment, recovers, chases her, wrestles her to the
ground, pins her down, kneeling astride her, his hands holding her wrists
firmly against the floor; their heads close together.
They
stare into each others eyes - both breathing deeply, exhausted by their
struggle.
STAIR
has complete control now but she still has his mobile clutched in her tightly
held fist. PATRICE’S sarong is awry, her naked body partially exposed.
She
glares at him, hate in her eyes, suddenly raises her head, mouth open. It is
not clear if she wants to bite or kiss him. STAIR pulls his head back.
They
stare into each others eyes - both breathing deeply, exhausted by their
struggle.
PATRICE
becomes aware that someone has entered the room. STAIR follows her gaze, looks
up to see:
BALIN
MEAS, a confused look on his face, a pistol in his hand, standing in the
doorway.
83 EXT. GARDEN. NICK’S APARTMENT.
DAY
2015
PATRICE
stares into KATIE’S camera, lost in her memories.
PATRICE
“There’s
a fine line between pleasure and pain...”
KATIE
Sorry,
you’ve lost me.
PATRICE
I’ve
lost me, too. (A BEAT) There may be wisdom in a little wine but too much...
KATIE
A
pistol!?
She
upends her glass, drinks the rest of her wine; smiles.
PATRICE
Glock!
KATIE
Why?
Whose?
84 EXT. RURAL CAMBODIA. DAY
2014
STAIR
walks towards Nick’s burnt out 4WD.
PATRICE (V.O.)
Indeed,
why? Whose?
BALIN
MEAS greets STAIR with an outstretched hand.
BALIN MEAS
You
are the brother.
STAIR
nods, shakes BALIN MEAS’ hand.
BALIN MEAS
My
deepest sympathy.
In
the background PATRICE can be seen her knees, vomiting.
STAIR
turns away for a moment, steels himself, turns back and walks up to the open
4WD door to take a closer look at:
The
skeleton, whose hands, with no flesh attached to the bones, clutche the
steering wheel.
85 EXT. BUN’S HOME. RURAL CAMBODIA.
DAY
BUN
looks out across the rice paddy. Her POV:
As
STAIR inspects NICK’s burnt out 4WD 40 or so meters away, PATRICE rises from
her knees, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. BALIN MEAS walks up to
and talks to her. Deeper in the background a shiny white 4WD approaches.
86 EXT. RURAL CAMBODIA. LATE
AFTERNOON
STAIR
looks at the skeleton. BALIN MEAS walks up.
BALIN MEAS
Miss
Patrice says your brother carried plastic containers filled with petrol in the
back of his car. (STAIR nods.) This is
not a good idea.
STAIR
shakes his head but his attention remains on the skeleton’s hands clutching the
steering wheel.
In
the background PATRICE, alongside her 4WD, can be seen unscrewing a plastic
bottle of water and rinsing her mouth.
Close
on PATRICE, her eyes focused on the approaching shiny white 4WD as she leans in
through the door of her 4WD and lifts her camera from the back seat.
Close
on STAIR looking at:
The
skeletal hands on the steering wheel.
BALIN
MEAS watches as STAIR takes out his mobile and positions himself to take a
photo.
There
is something about the skeletal hands on the steering wheel that puzzles STAIR.
CLOSEBY
The
bright shining white 4WD with 'Australian Embassy' decals on it, pulls up
alongside STAIR and BALIN MEAS.
CAMPBELL
NEWTON steps out of the 4WD. He signals his ‘hello’ to PATRICE with a friendly
wave. She acknowledges CAMPBELL but is preoccupied with taking photos.
CAMPBELL
Alistair? (STAIR nods.) Campbell Newton. From the
Australian Embassy.
He
holds out his hand. STAIR shakes it.
CAMPBELL
I
am so sorry about your brother. So sorry.
STAIR
Thank
you, Campbell.
CAMPBELL
glimpses at the skeleton in the front seat, grimaces, turns away.
CAMPBELL
Oh,
my God!
CLOSEBY
As
she is taking photos, PATRICE sees BUN, on the other side of the rice paddy,
looking towards the burnt out 4WD.
BALIN MEAS (VOICE OFF)
So,
the fire started in the engine...
CLOSEBY
BALIN
MEAS talks to STAIR and CAMPBELL.
BALIN MEAS
...ignited
the petrol fumes in the empty empty tank. An explosion...
PATRICE
walks up.
BALIN MEAS
...ignited the petrol containers...
PATRICE
Where
is Nick's translator? And what about witnesses...Did anyone see what happened?
Like that old lady over there...
PATRICE
points to where she saw BUN. The old lady is gone.
PATRICE
There’s
an old lady...She might have...
STAIR
Hey,
Patrice...
PATRICE
Don’t
‘hey Patrice’ me. Fuck you. Nick never went out into the field without a
translator. (A BEAT) Hardly ever.
STAIR
And?
PATRICE
There's
only one body.
STAIR
So
this is one of the times he didn’t.
PATRICE
We
don’t know that.
STAIR
Carrying
petrol in plastic containers inside your car is a fucking stupid idea...
PATRICE
Yes,
but he had a lot of enemies.
NICK
Nick
made a serious error in judgment and...Shit happens!
PATRICE
Shit
happens!
STAIR
Serious
errors of judgment were a specialty of Nick’s.
PATRICE
Like
me? Am I one of Nick’s ‘serious errors of judgment’?
STAIR
shrugs. He doesn’t know and doesn’t care.
PATRICE
Fuck
you, Alistair.
PATRICE
spins on her heels, strides back to her car. CAMPBELL hesitates a moment then
rushes after her.
BALIN MEAS
She
is grieving. You must be patient.
STAIR
nods, watches as CAMPBELL tries to calm PATRICE down.
CLOSE
TO Patrice’s 4WD, as she takes a key from her key ring:
PATRICE
He
was fucking murdered, Campbell. He...
CAMPBELL
Patrice,
I know this is very painful for you...but...look, we’ll make sure the police
investigate this properly but it does look as though...
PATRICE
Yes,
because its supposed to look as though it was a ‘tragic accident’... Nick was
onto something, Campbell. Something big. I don’t know what but...
CAMPBELL
nods half-heartedly. It is clear to PATRICE that he is only humouring her. She
takes a key from her key ring
PATRICE
Give
this to...
She
gestures towards STAIR, hands the key to CAMPBELL, gets into her 4WD, sees an
ambulance approaching behind her in the rear-vision mirror.
87 EXT. RURAL CAMBODIA. CLOSE TO
SUNSET
As
the AMBULANCE DRIVER and his ASSISTANT prepare to lift the skeletal remains
from the 4WD onto a trolley, BALIN MEAS hands his card through the window of
the Embassy 4WD to STAIR, sitting in the passenger seat. CAMPBELL is in the
driver’s seat.
STAIR
When
can I...get....my brother?
BALIN MEAS
Tomorrow,
I think. a little paper work and...
CAMPBELL
I
will organize everything, Alistair.
BALIN MEAS
Travel
well, my friend. And safely.
STAIR
Thank
you, Balin.
BALIN MEAS.
Meas.
Meas is my given name, Balin my surname.
STAIR (SMILES)
Meas.
BALIN
MEAS places his hand on STAIR’S upper arm.
BALIN MEAS
Good
luck to you. I will call you if...
STAIR
nods.
CAMPBELL
drives off. BALIN MEAS turns, walks back to where the AMBULANCE DRIVER and his
ASSISTANT are lifting the skeletal remains. BALIN MEAS sees something:
The
part of Nick’s trousers in contact with the seat have not been totally burnt.
In the pocket there is something yellow.
BALIN
MEAS lifts from the pocket the melted remnants of a yellow mobile phone.
88 INT. AUSTRALIAN EMBASSY 4WD.
DUSK
CAMPBELL
drives. STAIR is trying to make a phone call but having no luck at all. Beside
him, on the seat, the burnt remnants of the laptop computer.
STAIR
Fuck!
CAMPBELL
We’ll
have reception in about 50 ks. (A BEAT) I liked your brother.
STAIR
nods, gives CAMPBELL no encouragement at all.
CAMPBELL
He
made me laugh.
CAMPBELL
ploughs on, regardless of STAIR’S clear lack of interest in having this
conversation.
CAMPBELL
And
made our lives at the Embassy a nightmare...’Relentless’ is the word I’d use.
Incessant questions, requests...demands... for interviews... criticisms of
foreign policy. (A BEAT) We couldn’t do anything right.
STAIR
nods, tries again to make a call. No luck. He changes to ‘photo’ mode, glances
briefly at a photo of:
Nick’s
skeletal hands on the steering wheel.
STAIR
looks at the screen of his mobile for a long moment; looks up to see a logging
truck ahead - piled high with logs.
CAMPBELL
There's
not much virgin forest left. (A BEAT) as Nick kept reminding us.
STAIR
nods, glances briefly at the logging truck as they overtake it, then back at
the screen of his phone.
89 EXT. RURAL CAMBODIA. LATE
AFTERNOON
BALIN
MEAS crouches by the driver’s door of Nick’s burnt out yellow 4WD. He reaches
under the seat, extracts a severely burnt leather pouch, opens it and extracts
a Glock pistol.
...to be continued...
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