BOOK OF BLOOD

CHAPTER 08

EXT. SANTA MONICA BLVD. - DAY:

A white SEDAN glides along the boulevard. At the wheel, Valentin. Beside him, Harry.

INT. SEDAN - DAY :

Harry is eating a burrito and sipping coffee. HARRY Whose is the car? VALENTIN Mine. HARRY Nah. You're driving it too carefully. VALENTIN (sparring) Maybe I just bought it. HARRY Somebody's been smoking in here for months. He pulls open the ashtray. Pulls out a cigar-butt. HARRY Havanas. You're not the smoker. So who is? VALENTIN (laughs) You could almost pass for a detective, D'Amour. (a beat) I work for the best illusionist in the world.

HARRY Philip Swann? VALENTIN You know of him? HARRY I saw him in Vegas once. VALENTIN Are you a gambling man? HARRY When I can afford to lose. Swann's quite a magician. VALENTIN Never call him that. He's strictly an illusionist. HARRY What's the difference? VALENTIN Illusions are trickery. Magicians do it for real.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD CEMETERY - GATES - DAY :

The sedan turns into a driveway.

EXT. HOLLYWOOD CEMETERY - DAY :

The sun beats down on a pristine panorama of palms and white marble tombs. Harry and Valentin walk towards a large mausoleum. HARRY Any movie stars buried here? VALENTIN Probably. HARRY It's not a bad place. Warm. Great view.

VALENTIN I don't think the dead much care. HARRY Are you sure? VALENTIN Are you a believer, then? Valentin gives him an inquisitive look. HARRY I've signed on for them all in my time. Hindu. Catholic. You can't have too many saviours. Harry's gaze is on the mausoleum now; or rather on the woman in white standing in its cool shadows: Dorothea Swann. She wears a wide-brimmed hat. HARRY Who is she? VALENTIN Swann's wife. CUT TO:

VALENTIN sitting on the mausoleum steps reading a book. He glances up. Harry and Dorothea are wandering between the graves, deep in conversation. DOROTHEA I want you to help me help my husband. I know he's in some kind of trouble. And it's something to do with the man you saw murdered. HARRY Did your husband know Quaid? DOROTHEA Yes.

They weren't close, but they saw each other once in a while. I think Philip believes all that stuff with the tarot cards. HARRY You don't? DOROTHEA I think we make our own futures. Harry makes an approving MURMUR. HARRY What's the connection? DOROTHEA (covering now, but well) I don't exactly know.

Philip doesn't like to talk about the past. HARRY Why not? Dorothea stops talking. Takes off her sunglasses. Her gaze is troubled, but direct. There is an attraction between the two of them that simmers beneath the dialogue. DOROTHEA He's a secretive man.

HARRY And you don't ask questions? DOROTHEA We don't share our lives the way a lot of people do. HARRY Does that mean...? DOROTHEA We haven't slept in the same bed for years. HARRY But obviously you still care what happens to him. DOROTHEA We wouldn't be having this conversation if I didn't. Swann's one of the most remarkable men alive. Harry, frowns.

DOROTHEA You don't believe me. HARRY He's an illusionist. It's not exactly brain surgery. Dorothea stares at him. HARRY Sorry. You asked. DOROTHEA No. You're right. He could have been something more. Maybe a lot more. But people get lost. Even good people. Too much fame. Too much money, HARRY Where do I sign? Dorothea LAUGHS lightly.

DOROTHEA Will you take the job, Mr. D'Amour? HARRY Harry. DOROTHEA Harry. HARRY I'm no bodyguard. DOROTHEA That's not what I'm asking for. I want somebody who can find out what Philip saw in those damn cards. And stop it from happening. HARRY When do you want me to start? DOROTHEA Come to the show with me. Tonight I want you to see him with an audience. They love him.

HARRY Do you? The question catches Dorothea off guard. DOROTHEA I didn't marry him for love, Mr. D'Amour. Tonight? HARRY Sure. Dorothea makes a little smile, and walks away. Harry watches her go, exhaling an appreciative breath at the sight of her departing figure. CUT TO:

INT. HARRY'S HOTEL ROOM - DUSK :

Harry's talking on the phone while he dresses for the theatre. HARRY You're not listening to me, Loomis.