his jacket and places it several seats down from them.
The countergirl arrives with a cup of coffee and a plate of mashed potatoes and gravy. It looks pretty good for diner food.
COUNTERGIRL
You folks enjoy your dinner.
HELEN
Excuse me, do you have a public phone I could use?
COUNTERGIRL
I'm sorry--we do, but it's broken.
BRADY
Can I ask you something? How do you--the town, I mean--stay in business? It doesn't seem like there's enough people around here to support it.
COUNTERGIRL
Oh, tourists, mostly.
HELEN
Tourists?
COUNTERGIRL
Oh, sure. We get lots of people Just like you passing through here.
The countergirl nods in the direction of a table toward the back where a OLD COUPLE Is seated. Judging by their colorfully patterned clothes, sunglasses, and cameras, they are tourists. They are scooping chunks of meatloaf and lumps of mashed potatoes into their mouths, seemingly not pausing between bites to swallow. They turn to Brady and Helen and smile, their chins dripping gravy.
Brady looks at his plate.
BRADY
You know, on second thought--
Helen's CELL PHONE RINGS.
HELEN
That's probably the section chief calling back--maybe he got a better connection.
(she answers the phone)
Helen Sweeten.
RICKY (ON PHONE)
Are you two still in town?
HELEN
Yes.
RICKY
Get out. Get out while you still can.
HELEN
What do you--
Ricky hangs up. Helen closes the phone.
HELEN
Wells, that was Ricky Smith. I think something's wrong.
BRADY
Let's go.
EXT. MAIN STREET - EVENING
The agents' car pulls out, then drives past the diner and out of town. A few seconds later, out of the agents' view, ALL THE LIGHTS GO OUT, as if someone pulled the plug on the whole town.
CUT TO:
INT. YELLOW HOUSE - KITCHEN
Brady, Helen, and Ricky talking again in the kitchen. Ricky is agitated.
RICKY
You shouldn't have come here. You should have driven right past and not looked back.
BRADY
No more of this crap, Ricky. If you've got something to tell us, then Just fucking tell us.
RICKY
This came through my mail slot about an hour ago.
He unfolds a sheet of paper and holds it up for them to see: "Spectacular Display of Illusion and Ventriloquism."
HELEN
They're all over town.
RICKY
This is bad. This is very bad. You don't want to be around tomorrow when this thing happens.
HELEN
We checked out the Masonic Hall. I don't see any spectacular displays happening in that place. Not tomorrow, not next week, probably not ever.
RICKY
I thought the same thing the first time I went in there.
BRADY
(figuring it out)
You were still investigating the Mystery Line case. Even after you quit the Bureau.
Ricky nods.
BRADY
But, I would have thought that, after ... what happened--
RICKY
After my crack-up? That I would have let it go?
BRADY
Something like that, yeah.
RICKY
Just the opposite. Cases like that were the whole reason I joined the FBI in the first place. The ability to point my finger and say, with all the authority of the Justice Department behind me, "None of this is real. It's all a con." That was what I lived for. When we looked into the Mystery Line, Larry and I, we could tell it was a front for something, but none of the pieces seemed to fit together. After Detroit, Larry had had it--too many dead ends. But I was in too deep.
BRADY
What happened that night?
RICKY
I got a glimpse of something. Something big. Maybe it was a warning, telling me to back off. Or maybe it was a dare, to see if I'd keep going. Doesn't matter--I've never responded with much wisdom to either warnings or dares. I quit the Bureau and made the Mystery Line my purpose in life. Eventually I ended up in here. Just as you did. I snooped around for while, and like you I went into that old ruin of a hall. And there it was.
HELEN
What?
RICKY
The curtain. The same fucking curtain from the warehouse. And that same sound .
(he bows his head and holds his hands over his ears)
Except this time it almost sounded like a voice ... or maybe more than one
The countergirl arrives with a cup of coffee and a plate of mashed potatoes and gravy. It looks pretty good for diner food.
COUNTERGIRL
You folks enjoy your dinner.
HELEN
Excuse me, do you have a public phone I could use?
COUNTERGIRL
I'm sorry--we do, but it's broken.
BRADY
Can I ask you something? How do you--the town, I mean--stay in business? It doesn't seem like there's enough people around here to support it.
COUNTERGIRL
Oh, tourists, mostly.
HELEN
Tourists?
COUNTERGIRL
Oh, sure. We get lots of people Just like you passing through here.
The countergirl nods in the direction of a table toward the back where a OLD COUPLE Is seated. Judging by their colorfully patterned clothes, sunglasses, and cameras, they are tourists. They are scooping chunks of meatloaf and lumps of mashed potatoes into their mouths, seemingly not pausing between bites to swallow. They turn to Brady and Helen and smile, their chins dripping gravy.
Brady looks at his plate.
BRADY
You know, on second thought--
Helen's CELL PHONE RINGS.
HELEN
That's probably the section chief calling back--maybe he got a better connection.
(she answers the phone)
Helen Sweeten.
RICKY (ON PHONE)
Are you two still in town?
HELEN
Yes.
RICKY
Get out. Get out while you still can.
HELEN
What do you--
Ricky hangs up. Helen closes the phone.
HELEN
Wells, that was Ricky Smith. I think something's wrong.
BRADY
Let's go.
EXT. MAIN STREET - EVENING
The agents' car pulls out, then drives past the diner and out of town. A few seconds later, out of the agents' view, ALL THE LIGHTS GO OUT, as if someone pulled the plug on the whole town.
CUT TO:
INT. YELLOW HOUSE - KITCHEN
Brady, Helen, and Ricky talking again in the kitchen. Ricky is agitated.
RICKY
You shouldn't have come here. You should have driven right past and not looked back.
BRADY
No more of this crap, Ricky. If you've got something to tell us, then Just fucking tell us.
RICKY
This came through my mail slot about an hour ago.
He unfolds a sheet of paper and holds it up for them to see: "Spectacular Display of Illusion and Ventriloquism."
HELEN
They're all over town.
RICKY
This is bad. This is very bad. You don't want to be around tomorrow when this thing happens.
HELEN
We checked out the Masonic Hall. I don't see any spectacular displays happening in that place. Not tomorrow, not next week, probably not ever.
RICKY
I thought the same thing the first time I went in there.
BRADY
(figuring it out)
You were still investigating the Mystery Line case. Even after you quit the Bureau.
Ricky nods.
BRADY
But, I would have thought that, after ... what happened--
RICKY
After my crack-up? That I would have let it go?
BRADY
Something like that, yeah.
RICKY
Just the opposite. Cases like that were the whole reason I joined the FBI in the first place. The ability to point my finger and say, with all the authority of the Justice Department behind me, "None of this is real. It's all a con." That was what I lived for. When we looked into the Mystery Line, Larry and I, we could tell it was a front for something, but none of the pieces seemed to fit together. After Detroit, Larry had had it--too many dead ends. But I was in too deep.
BRADY
What happened that night?
RICKY
I got a glimpse of something. Something big. Maybe it was a warning, telling me to back off. Or maybe it was a dare, to see if I'd keep going. Doesn't matter--I've never responded with much wisdom to either warnings or dares. I quit the Bureau and made the Mystery Line my purpose in life. Eventually I ended up in here. Just as you did. I snooped around for while, and like you I went into that old ruin of a hall. And there it was.
HELEN
What?
RICKY
The curtain. The same fucking curtain from the warehouse. And that same sound .
(he bows his head and holds his hands over his ears)
Except this time it almost sounded like a voice ... or maybe more than one
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