senaryosunu da yazayım tam olsun *
the lonely sound of a buoy bell in the distance. water
slapping against a smooth, flat surface in rhythm. the
creaking of wood.
off in the very far distance, one can make out the sound of
suddenly, a single match ignites and invades the darkness. it
quivers for a moment. a dimly lit hand brings the rest of the
pack to the match. a plume of yellow-white flame flares and
illuminates the battered face of dean keaton, age forty. his
salty-gray hair is wet and matted. his face drips with water
or sweat. a large cut runs the length of his face from the
corner of his eye to his chin. it bleeds freely. an un-lit
cigarette hangs in the corner of his mouth.
in the half-light we can make out that he is on the deck of a
large boat. a yacht, perhaps, or a small freighter. he sits
with his back against the front bulkhead of the wheel house.
his legs are twisted at odd, almost impossible angles. he
a thin trail of liquid runs past his feet and off into the
darkness. keaton lights the cigarette on the burning pack of
matches before throwing them into the liquid.
the liquid ignites with a poof.
the flame runs up the stream, gaining in speed and intensity.
it begins to ripple and rumble as it runs down the deck
towards the stern.
2 ext. boat - night - stern 2'
a stack of oil drums rests on the stern. they are stacked on
a palette with ropes at each corner that attach it to a huge
crane on the dock. one of the barrels has been punctured at
it's base. gasoline trickles freely from the hole.
the flame is racing now towards the barrels. keaton smiles
weakly to himself.
the flame is within a few yards of the barrels when another
stream of liquid splashes onto the gas. the flame fizzles out
pitifully with a hiss.
two feet straddle the flame. a stream of urine flows onto the
deck from between them.
the sound of a fly zipping. follow the feet as they move over
to where keaton rests at the wheel house.
crane up to the waist of the unknown man. he pulls a pack of
cigarettes out of one pocket and a strange antique lighter
from the other. it is gold, with a clasp that folds down over
the flint. the man flicks up the clasp with his thumb and
strikes it with his index finger. it is a fluid motion,
keaton looks up at the man. a look of realization crosses his
face. it is followed by frustration, anger, and finally
how are you, keaton?
i'd have to say my spine was broken,
he spits the name out like it was poison.
the man puts the lighter back in his pocket and reaches under
his jacket. he produces a stainless .38 revolver.
what time is it?
the hand with the gun turns over, turning the gold watch on
its wrist upward.
the sound of sirens is closer now. headed this way.
keaton grimaces bitterly and nods. he turns his head away and
takes another drag.
the hand with the gun waits long enough for keaton to enjoy
his last drag before pulling the trigger.
the sound of keaton's body slumping onto the deck.
move out across the deck. below is the stream of gasoline
still flowing freely.
the sound of the gasoline igniting. the flame runs in front
of us towards the barrels, finally leaping up in a circle
around the drums, burning the wood of the pallet and licking
the spouting stream as it pours from the hole.
move out across the dock, away from the boat.
the pier to which the boat is moored is littered with dead
bodies. twenty or more men have been shot to pieces and lie
scattered everywhere in what can only be the aftermath of a
a barge comes into view.
on the deck of the barge is a tangle of cables and girders.
the mesh of steel and rubber leaves a dark and open cocoon
beneath its base.
move into the darkness.
sirens are close now. almost here. the sound of fire raging
out of control.
sirens blaring. tires squealing. car doors opening. feet
pounding the pavement.
move further, slower, into the darkness
voices yelling. new light flickering in the surrounding
suddenly, an explosion.
then silence. total blackness.
we hear the voice of roger "verbal" kint, whom we will soon
new york. - six weeks ago. a truck loaded
with stripped gun parts got jacked
outside of queens. the driver didn't see
anybody, but somebody fucked up. he heard
a voice. sometimes, that's all you need.
3 int. dark apartment - day - new york - six weeks prior to
the black explodes with the opening of a door into a dark
room. outside, the hall is filled with blinding white light.
shadows in the shapes of men flood into the room. we can make
out men in hoods with flashlights. they are laden with
police. search warrant. don't move.
it is a blur of violent action and sound.'beams of
flashlights cut the darkness in all directions.
a dozen flashlights land on one man. he lies naked in bed,
merging from a deep sleep. he squints at the flood of
blinding white light, more annoyed than frightened. he nearly
laughs at the sound of countless guns cocking. he is
mcmanus. age twenty-eight.
police. we have a warrant for
will they be serving coffee downtown?
two dozen black gloved hands grab him and yank him out of
4 int. auto body shop - day 4
an old paint mixer vibrates furiously.
todd hockney, a dark, portly man in his thirties is working
on an old fire-bird.
a young hispanic kid mixes paint a few feet away.
suddenly, the garage door opens to reveal:
a row of five men silhouetted by the bright sun.
can i help you?
hockney's voice is gruff.
hockney reaches for something just inside the door of the
who are you?
all six men instantly produce guns and aim them at hockney.
hockney withdraws a filthy towel and wipes grease and sweat
from his forehead.
we don't do gun repair.
s ext. street - new york - day
fred fenster, a tall, thin man in his thirties strolls
casually down the street. he is dressed conspicuously in a
loud suit and tie with shoes that have no hope of matching.
he smokes a cigarette and chews gum at the same time.
he happens to glance over his shoulder and notice a brown
ford sedan with four men in it cruising along the curb. he
picks up his step a little. the ford keeps up.
he looks ahead at the corner. he tries to look as comfortable
as he can, checking his watch as though remembering an
appointment he is late for. the ford stays right on him.
suddenly, he bolts. he gets no more than a few yards before
cars pour out of every conceivable nook and cranny. brakes
are squealing, radios squawking, guns cocking. fenster is
surrounded instantly. he stops short and flaps his hands on
his thighs in defeat.
6 int. mondino's restaurant - day
an attractive man and woman walk quickly through the front of
a small new york cafe. they are charged with nervous, excited
the man is dean keaton, a well dressed, sturdy looking man in
his forties with slightly graying hair. he looks much better
than he did in the opening scene. the woman with him is edie
finneran, age thirty-three, poised and attractive - easily
the calmer of the two.
they come to a staircase at the back of the restaurant
leading down to a dark room. edie takes keaton's arm and
let me look at you.
keaton is uncomfortable in his suit, or perhaps the
situation. still, he smiles with genuine warmth.
edie straightens his tie and picks microscopic imperfections
from his lapel.
now remember, this is another kind of
business. they don't earn your respect.
you owe it to them. don't stare them down
but don't look away either. confidence.
they are fools not to trust you. that's
i'm having a stroke.
you've come far. you're a good man. i
keaton blinks then stammers, looking for a response.
live with it.
she kisses him and runs down the steps with keaton close
behind. keaton playfully grabs her ass and she nearly
stumbles down the stairs.
7 int. restaurant - downstairs
they come to the bottom of the steps giggling and jabbing
each other. once off the stairs they instantly transform as
though hit with cold air. they assume a cool, professional
exterior and walk two feet apart. one would look at them and
see only two business associates here to ply their trade.
they walk across the dimly lit dining room to a table in the
far corner where two men are already waiting. the first is
mr. fortier, age thirty-five, the other is mr. renault, age
sixty. both men are impeccably dressed with a distinguished
air. they stand and smile.
edie, nice to see you.
sorry we're late.
nonsense. sit, please.
(struggling with english)
you must be mr. keaton.
i'm sorry. dean keaton
renault's hand is already out.
monsieur renault. a pleasure.
how do you do?
they shake hands. keaton takes fortier's hand next.
monsieur fortier. so nice to finally meet
everyone sits at the table. all faces are smiling.
low angle: under table
edie's hand reaches out and finds keaton's leg. her hand runs
high up his inner thigh and squeezes firmly.
her face is absolutely calm, giving no hint of what her hand
is doing. keaton smiles and clears his throat.
8 int. mondino's restaurant 8'
follow a waiter past the flight of steps.
pan down to reveal:
five sets of feet arriving at the bottom.
the feet in the middle wear shoes notably nicer than the
pan up to reveal:
special agent david kujan (pronounced koo-yahn), u.s.
customs. thirtyish, dark-haired and determined.
9 scene deleted
10 int. restaurant - downstairs 10
edie brought us your proposal and i'll be
honest. we're very impressed. a bit
skeptical, i must admit, but impressed.
we find the concept brilliant, but new
york is difficult for new restaurants.
how can we be certain that our money will
be returned in the long run?
keaton looks at edie and smiles confidently.
it's simple gentlemen, design
versatility. a restaurant that can change
with taste without losing the overall
aesthetic. our atmosphere won't be
painted on the walls.
this was the part of the proposal that
intrigued us, but i'm not sure i follow.
let's say for example -
this i had to see myself.
keaton looks up. he sees david kujan. behind him are the very
serious looking guys in suits.
keaton is not happy to see them.
dave. i'm in a meeting.
time for another one.
this is my attorney, edie finneran.
this is mr. renault and mr. fortier.
everyone, this is david kujan.
special agent kujan. u.s. customs.
(gestures to men behind him)
these gentlemen are with the new york
police department. you look great,
keaton. better than i would have thought.
is there a problem, mr. keaton?
the small matter of a stolen truck-load
of guns that wound up on a boat to
ireland last night.
renault and fortier's confusion is giving way to suspicion.
if you will excuse us for a moment,
we need to ask you some questions
downtown. you'll be quite awhile.
renault starts to get up.
we should leave you to discuss whatever
keaton stands up and throws a wad of money on the table to
cover the check. he looks at edie. she moves to stand, but he
sits her back down with a hand on her shoulder.
enjoy the meal.
i'll call you.
kujan takes him by the arm, but keaton yanks away.
he looks out over the dozens of other faces in the
restaurant. everyone is looking at him with some level of
surprise. if keaton is humiliated by the whole affair, he
hides it well.
11 int. lock-up hallway - night 11'
a police officer steps into the frame and opens the steel
follow a pair of feet as they shuffle across the cement
floor. the shoes are shabby and worn, as are the wrinkled
pants that hang too low and loose at the cuffs. the right
foot is turned slightly inward and falls with a hard limp. it
is clear that the knee does not extend fully.
the sound of a steel door opening. the bottom corner of a
steel cage comes into view. another set of feet falls into
step with the first. another steel door and another set of
feet. another door, another and another. five pairs of feet
walk single file down the hall.
the lame feet are in the front of the line. they come to
another steel door, this one solid and covered with dents and
crane up to reveal:
roger kint, verbal to his few friends. he has a deeply lined
face, making his thirty-odd years a good guess at best. from
his twisted left hand, we can see that he suffers from a
slight but not debilitating palsy. behind him are dean
keaton, fred fenster, mcmanus and todd hockney. t
verbal steps through the door, followed by the rest.
it didn't make sense that i be there. i
mean these guys were hard-core hijackers,
but there i was. at that point, i wasn't
scared, f knew i hadn't done anything
they could do me for. besides, it was
fun. i got to make like i was notorious.
12 int. line-up room 12
the five men are ushered into the room in front of a white
wall painted with horizontal blue stripes. each has a number
at either end to denote the height of the man in front of it.
between these lines are thinner blue lines to tell the
specific height in inches.
script date 5/25/94
bright lights shine on all of them. they squint, eyes
keaton leans forward a bit and looks at the men in line with
him. he shares a look of familiarity with fenster and then
mcmanus. hockney smiles at all of them.
where you been, man?
shut up in there. alright, you all know
the drill. when your number is called,
step forward and repeat the phrase you've
been given. understand?
the men all nod.
number one. step forward.
hockney takes a step forward. he looks directly into a mirror
on the other side of the room. it is three feet square and we
can make out faint light behind it. it is a two-way. he
speaks in a complete dead-pan.
number two. step forward.
mcmanus steps up and makes a gun with his thumb and
forefinger. he mocks criminal intensity, pointing at the
mirror. he camps up his line.
give me the keys, you motherfucking,
cocksucking pile of shit, or i'll rip off
knock it off. get back in line.
mcmanus steps back.
the rest of the men do their bit as verbal speaks.
it was bullshit. the whole rap was a
setup. everything is the cops' fault. you
don't put guys like that in a room
together. who knows what can happen?
13 int. interrogation room - night
mcmanus sits in a chair in front of a white wall. he smiles
at someone off-screen.
this has to be embarrassing for you
guys, huh? i mean you know and i know
this is a load of shit, but at least i
don't have a captain with his dick in
my ass making me play along. that has
got to suck,
are you done?
do you work for a broad? that would
have to be the worst.
are you done?
still, i guess dignity is a small
pries to pay for medical and a
pension. a small pension, mind you,
but a pension nonetheless.
they drilled us all night. somebody was
pissed about that truck getting knocked
off and the cops had nothing. they were
hoping somebody would slip. give them
something to go on. they knew we wouldn't
fight it because they knew how to lean on
us. they'd been doing it forever. our
rights went right out the window. it was
a violation. i mean disgraceful.
they went after mcmanus first. he was a
good guy. crazy though. a top notch entry
so where'd you dump the truck?
the truck with the guns, fucko.
you kill me, you really do. where's my
right here. suck it out.
you want to know what your buddy fenster
do i look stupid enough to fall for that?
jesus christ. beat me if you gotta, but
no more of the candy-land tactics, man.
where's the fucking truck?
14 int. interrogation room 14
now fenster is in the seat. he sweats profusely.
i want to call my lawyer. i don;'t know
about any truck. i was in connecticut all
night on friday.
that's not what mcmanus said.
mcmanus. be told us another story
was it the one about the hooker with
dysentery i swear , she never
mentioned money until i came.
be fold us about the truck.
to be honest, it was more like a +
mobile home. she made a lot of money, t
voice (o.s.) +
who took the guns off your hands?
hey, are we talking about the same
i'm losing my patience.
fenster always worked with mcmanus. he
was a real tight-ass, but when it came to
the job, he was right on. smart guy. a
gopher. got whatever you needed for next
you guys got nothing on me. where's your
you're a known hijacker. you're sweating
like a guilty motherfucker. that's my
p.c. save us the time. tell us where the
fenster knocks on the table.
hello? can you hear me in the back? p.c.
he looks under his chair.
where is it? i'm lookin'. it's not
happening. what's going on with that? i
15 int. interrogation room
hockney's turn in the chair. he laughs it all off.
- my lawyer. i'll have your badge,
i know you. you don't think i know
you're on the take. this whole fucking
precinct is dirty. you don't have a
fucking leg to stand on.
hockney was just a bad bastard. good with
explosives. mean as a snake when it
you think so, tough guy? i can put you in
queens the day of the hijacking.
i live in queens. what the fuck is this?
you come into my store and lock me up in
front of my customers. what the hell is
wrong with this country? are you guys
gonna charge me or what?
you know what happens if you do another
turn in the joint?
i'll fuck your father in the shower.
charge me, dick-head.
16 int. interrogation room 16
now keaton sits in the chair, cool and indifferent.
keaton was the real prize for them, for
i'll charge you when i'm ready.
you know damn well, dead-man.
hey, that was your mistake, not mine. did
you ever think to ask me? i've been
walking around with the same face, same
name - i'm a businessman, fellas.
what's that? the restaurant business? not
anymore from now on you're in the
getting-fucked-by-us business . i'm gonna
make you famous, cocksucker.
keaton shows just a flicker of contempt. the threat has hit
like i said. it was all your mistake.
charge me with it and i'll beat it. let's
get back to the truck.
a fist flies into the frame and connects with keaton's jaw.
his head snaps back, blood flowing freely from his mouth.
17 deleted 17
18 int. cell block 18
keaton is brought in to a holding where he joins fenster,
hockney, verbal and mcmanus. he sits in a corner and keeps to
fenster is in mid-tirade.
somebody should do something. what is
this shit - getting hauled in every five
minutes? okay, so i did a little time,
does that mean i get railed every time a
truck finds its way off the planet?
mcmanus is silently staring at keaton, who sits on a bench,
these guys got no probable cause.
script date 5/25/94
you're fuckin' a right, no p.c. well
screw p.c. no right. no goddamn right.
you do some time, they never let you go.
treat me like a criminal, i'll end up a
you are a criminal.
why you gotta go and do that? i'm trying
to make a point.
then make it. christ, you're making me
tired all over.
mcmanus looks at keaton.
i heard you were dead, keaton.
you heard right.
the word i got is you hung up your spurs,
man. what's that all about?
rumor has it, keaton's gone straight -
cleaning house. i hear he's tapping edie
she's a heavy-weight criminal lawyer from
uptown. big-time connected. she could
erase dillinger's record if she tried. i
hear she's keaton's meal ticket.
is it true?
what about it, keaton? you a lawyer's
wife. what sort of "retainer" you giving
script date 5/25/94
keaton shoots mcmanus a fiery glare.
i'd say you've gotten on his main and
central nerve, mcmanus.
do your friend a favor, fenster, keep him
you're clean, keaton? say it ain't so.
was it you that hit that truck?
forget him. it's not important. i was
trying to make a point.
this whole thing was a shakedown.
what makes you say that?
how many times have you been in a line-
up? it's always you and four dummies. the
p.d. pays homeless guys ten bucks a head
half the time. no way they'd line five
felons in the same row. no way. and what
the hell is a voice line-.up? a public
defender could get you off of that.
so why the hell was i hauled in and
cavity searched tonight?
it was the feds. a truck load of guns
gets snagged, customs comes down on
n.y.p.d. for some answers - they come up
with us. they're grabbing at straws. it's
politics - nothing you can do.
i had a guy's fingers in my asshole
is it friday already?
script date 5/25/94
fuck you. i'11 never shit right again. so
who did it? own up.
i don't want to know.
nobody asked you, workin'-man.
fuck who did it. what i want to know is,
who's the gimp?
all eyes suddenly turn on verbal. he has been quietly
listening the whole time without uttering a word.
how do i know that? how about it,
pretzel-man? what's your story?
his name is verbal kint. i thought you
guys knew him.
roger really. people say i talk too much.
yeah, i was gonna tell you to shut up.
we've met once or twice. last time was
county. i was in for fraud.
you were waiting for a line-up then, too.
what happened with that?
i walked. ninety days, suspended.
so you did it?
to your mother's ass.
verbal looks away from hockney, awaiting a violent response.
everyone slowly starts to laugh. hockney looks as if he is
about to boil in his own skin.
let it go.
verbal smiles at keaton appreciatively.
mcmanus stands and walks to the toilet in the corner of
the cell. he starts taking a leak;
look, we've all been put out by this, i
figure we owe it to ourselves to salvage
a little dignity. now fenster and i got
wind of a possible job -
why don't you just calm down'
what do you care what he says?
yeah, i'm just talking here, and hockney
seems to want to hear me out. i know
fenster is with me -
how about you, guy?
mcmanus finishes pissing.
i'm interested, sure.
there, so you see, i'm going to exercise
my right to free assembly.
mcmanus taps the bars of his cell and the others laugh.
i'm not kidding. shut your mouth.
you're missing the point.
no, you're missing the point. shut up. i
don't want to hear anything you have to
say. i don't want to know about your
"job". just don't let me hear you. i want
nothing to do with any of you -
i beg your pardon but all of you can go
dean keaton, gone the high road. what is
the world coming to?
mcmanus and keaton stare at one another for a long and tense
moment. finally mcmanus turns to the others.
forget him then.
now i can't talk about this here in any
detail, but listen up...
everyone but keaton gravitates toward mcmanus's cell as he
begins to speak in low, hushed tones.
and that was how it began. the five of us
brought in on a trumped-up charge to be
leaned on by half-wits. what the cops
never figured out, and what i know now,
was that these men would never break,
never lie down, never bend over for
anybody. .. anybody.
19 ext. pier - day - san pedro - present day 19
it is morning in the aftermath of the opening scene.
harsh sunlight shines on a line of body bags on the dock.
police swarm everywhere, photographers are taking pictures of
the scene while a team of men in rolled up sleeves and
plastic gloves pick at the remains.
two men on a fire boat operate a water cannon, dousing the
smoldering remains of a burned-out ships hull.
watching this from the edge of the pier is a man in a dark
suit. he is special agent jack baer of the f.b.i. he is tall
and fit, in his late thirties. he gazes out over the water
a uniform cop trots up to him.
who are you?
baer holds up his badge without looking at the man.
agent jack baer, f.b.i. how many dead?
before the cop can answer, baer turns and walks along the
line of body bags.
fifteen so far. we're still pulling some
bodies out of the water.
baer eyes the corpses on the dock, burned beyond recognition.
looking for anyone in particular?
baer looks at the cop for the first time, unamused.
f don't want any of the bodies taken away
until i've had a chance to go over this,
i have to clear the scene. i've got word
direct from the chief
baer lights a cigarette, only half listening.
yes, the chief. spooky stuff. any
two. there's a guy in county hospital,
but he's in a coma. the d.a. has the
other guy - a cripple - from new york i
think. listen, the chief said -
baer walks away from the cop, ignoring him completely. he
wanders through the carnage on the pier.
20 mt. ocean
a half mile out from the pier.
the sea is choppy, stirred by the wind. an object floats into
view a few feet away, bobbing in the water.
it is a dead body - a man, face down, wearing a checkered
bathrobe. he drifts quietly toward the open ocean.
21 int. hearing room - day - los angeles present 2:
verbal kint sits in a chair in front of a microphone attached
to a tape recorder, his brow beaded with sweat.
on the wall behind him is the seal of the state of california
he is cleaner, better kept, in a well-cut suit and neatly
trimmed hair. he looks older than he did in new york - worn
a flurry of voices banter off screen. verbal's eyes follow
the voices back and forth.
my client offers his full cooperation in
these proceedings. in exchange, his
testimony is to be sealed and all matters
incriminating to himself are to be
the district attorney's office will
comply provided -
no provisions, nothing. my clients
testimony for his immunity.
may-i be frank, counselor? i suspect your
political power as much as i respect it.
i don't know why mr. kint has so many
faceless allies in city hall, and i don't
care. the embarrassment he helped cause
the city of new york will not happen
counselor, i will prosecute your client.
then prosecute. i will be very impressed
to see if the district attorney manages
to bring in twenty-seven simultaneous
counts of murder against one man with
cerebral palsy. i would think a man with
your job would agree with these alleged
"faceless people in city hall" you
one would think the counsel is veiling a
counsel isn't veiling anything.
i'11 take my chances then. i'11 feel
safer without a job if a man like mr.
kint is behind bars.
mr. kint will plead guilty to weapons
weapons. misdemeanor one.
counselor, you're insulting me.
counselor, you're bluffing. shall i push
for misdemeanor two?
voices mumble off screen. verbal fidgets in his chair.
misdemeanor one. fine. this is
a tiny smile and a genuine look of disbelief flash across
as for the rest of the charges grand
larceny, arson... murder - the district
attorney will accept the subject's
testimony in connection with the above
mentioned events and in exchange will
offer complete immunity. the
transcript... the transcript of said
testimony will be sealed and all matters
incriminating to mr. kint will be
verbal lets out a long-held sigh of relief.
22 int. police station - hallway - day
david kujan is walking quickly beside sergeant rabin, a dark
and weathered looking man in his late thirties. they move up
a staircase into the heart of police headquarters.
what do you mean i can't see him?
the d.a. came down here last night ready
to arraign before they even moved him to
county. kint's lawyer comes in and five
minutes later, the d.a. comes out looking
like he'd been bitch-slapped by the
boogey man. they took his statement and
cut him a deal.
did they charge him with anything?
weapons. misdemeanor two.
what'the fuck is that?
rabin motions for kujan to lower his voice. he points out
that they are walking through a bullpen filled with desks
where a number of other police are working within earshot.
i give the d.a. credit for getting that
much to stick. this whole thing has
turned political. the mayor was here -
the chief - the governor called this
morning, for christ's sake. this guy is
protected - from up on high by the prince
of fucking darkness.
when does he post bail?
two hours, tops.
i want to see him.
rabin comes to an office door with his name on it. he opens
it and lets kujan in before following.
23 int. rabin's office 23
rabin's office can only be described as a disaster area. the
desk is cluttered with weeks, perhaps months or even years of
paperwork that could never conceivably be sorted out.
above his desk is a bulletin board. it is a breathtaking
catastrophe of papers, wanted posters, rap-sheets, memos and +
post-its. this is in the neighborhood of decades. rabin is a
man with a system so cryptic, so far beyond the comprehension
of others, he himself is most likely baffled by it.
even if i was to let you talk to him, he
won't talk to you. he's paranoid about
being recorded and he knows the
interrogation rooms are wired
this won't be an' interrogation, just a...
friendly chat to kill time.
he won't go into the interrogation room.
someplace else, then.
kujan looks around rabin's messy office.
no, no, no, no, no.
if it was a dope deal, where's the dope,
if it was a hit, who called it in?
and i am sure you have a host of wild +
theories to answer these questions.
you know damn well what i think.
that's crazy, dave and it doesn't matter.
he has total immunity and his story
checks out. he doesn't know what you want
i don't think he does. not exactly, but
there's a lot more to his story. i want
to know why twenty-seven men died on that
pier for what looks to be ninety-one
million dollars worth of dope that wasn't
there. above all, i want to be sure that
dean keaton is dead.
two hours. just until he makes bail.
they're all dead. no matter how tough you r.
say this keaton was, no one on that boat
could've made it out alive.
24 int. hospital - day 24
a door marked intensive care.
the door bursts open. suddenly, the hallway is a flurry of
doctor lisa plumber, age fifty, walks quickly beside jack
baer walks with all of the determination of a battalion of
doctor ridgly walters, a young intern in his late twenties
rushes up to them.
ridgly, this is special agent jack baer
from the f.b.i. agent baer, this is
doctor ridgly waiters.
nice to meet you.
is he talking?
he regained consciousness less than an
hour ago. he spoke - not english - then
it was hungarian. most of them were
hungarians. any fluent hungarians on your
we have a turkish audiologist.
ridgly opens a door and baer barrels through.
25 int. hospital room 25
(<< .. denotes lines spoken in hungarian) +
baer comes to an abrupt halt at the foot of a bed surrounded
by a massive tangle of medical equipment. in the center of it
all is the as yet unnamed arkosh kovash, mid-thirties. his
body is nearly mummified in bandages and plaster from waist
bold is overlapped:
<<are you the police? i need the
police. he'll find out i'm here and
he'll kill me. i need the police. i
will tell them anything they want to
know. please, i am going to be
will he die?
there's a chance.
baer walks over to rovash and kneels down on the bed beside
he looks closely at his battered and scalded face. he listens
to him far a moment. kovash goes on incessantly.
<<find someone who understands me,
you idiot, i'm going to be killed,
you'll all be killed if he has to do
it. help me, god. they're all stupid.
get someone who understands me or
we're all going to die.>>
baer pulls a cellular phone out of his jacket and dials.
call hospital security and put a man on
the door until the police get here.
<<why are you just standing there,
you idiot? i'm not speaking english
am i? wouldn't it make sense to find
someone who could talk to me so you
could find the person that set me on
fire, perhaps? he is the devil.
you've never seen anyone like keyser
soze in all your miserable life you
idiot. keyser soze. do you at least
understand that? keyser soze. the
devil himself. or are you american
policemen io stupid that you haven't
even heard of him. keyser soze, you
ridiculous man. keyser soze . >>
ridgly runs out of the room. kovash babbles louder and
louder, trying to get baer's attention. baer sticks a finger
in one ear to block him out and hear the phone.
is he dangerous?
someone picks up on the other end of the phone.
joel, it's baer. i'm down at l.a. county.
the guy they pulled out of the harbor is
arkosh kovash... yes, i'm sure... no,
he's all fucked up... what? i can't hear
shut up, hugo, i'm on the phone.
yes... no... not until i put someone on
him. listen, i need you to send me
someone who can speak hungarian. he's
awake and talking like a thai hooker...
how should i know? get me someone who can
talk to him -
baer is suddenly distracted by something kovash has said. in
the middle of a long string of unintelligible dialect, he has
spouted two words that have gotten baer's attention.
he turns and looks down at the tattered man in the bed.
kovash realizes baer is listening and says the two words
keyser - soze.
he waves his hand, gesturing for kovash to say it again.
keyser - soze.
joel, call dan metzheiser over at justice
and find dave kujan from customs.
2 int. hallway - police station 26
rabin walks out of a small room. behind him, we catch a
glimpse of a workroom with a bench covered with wires.
kujan comes out a moment later, gently fixing his tie.
rabin opens the door to his office and kujan enters. rabin
follows, looking up and down the hall before closing the door
as the door closes we can just make out the back of verbal's
head. he is seated in rabin's office, smoking a cigarette.
27 int. rabin's office 27
kujan and rabin sit down across from verbal.
verbal, you know we're trying to help
sure. and i appreciate that. and i want
to help you, agent kujan. i like cops. i
would have liked to have been a fed
myself but my c.p. was -
verbal, i know you know something. i know
you're not telling us everything.
i told the d.a. everything i know.
28 int. workshop
rabin stands over louis, a messy looking technician at his
workbench in a room full of electronic equipment. he adjusts
several dials on a receiver until the voices of kujan and
verbal come clearly through a tinny speaker on the wall.
rabin reaches over for a nearby pot of coffee.
i know you liked keaton i know you think
he was a good man.
i know he was good.
he was a corrupt cop, verbal.
29 int. rabin's office 29
sure. fifteen years ago, but he was a
good thief anyway, the cops wouldn't let
him go legit.
keaton was a piece of shit.
you trying to get a rise out of me, agent
i just want to hear your story.
it's right here.
he taps a finger on the stack of paper that kujan brought in.
kujan picks it up and thumbs through it.
according to your statement you are a
short-con operator. run of the mill
seams. everything you do, you learned
from somebody else.
that's been suppressed. anything in there
oh, i know. sweet deal you have. total
well i do have the weapons charge. i'm
looking at six whole months hard time.
you know a dealer named ruby deemer,
you know a religious guy named john paul?
you know ruby is in attica?
he didn't have my lawyer.
i know ruby. he's very big on respect.
likes me very much.
verbal sees this getting to something. his smiles fades.
now i know your testimony was sealed.
ruby is well connected. he still has
people running errands for him. what do
you think he'd say if he found out you
dropped his name to the d.a.?
script date 5/25/94
there's nothing in there about ruby.
i'11 be sure to mention that to him.
verbal is not smiling anymore. he stares at kujan with utter
contempt, knowing he is being shafted.
the first thing i learned on the job,
know what it was? how to spot a murderer.
let's say you arrest three guys for the
same killing. put them all in jail
overnight. the next morning, whoever is
sleeping is your man. if you're guilty,
you know you're caught, you get some rest
- let your guard down, you follow?
i'11 get right to the point. i'm smarter
than you. i'11 find out what i want to
know and i'11 get it from you whether you
like it or not.
i'm not a rat.
kujan puts his hand on the transcript of verbal's confession.
rabin walks in with a cup of coffee. verbal takes it with his
good hand and sips it with a relish.
ahhh. back when i was picking beans in
guatemala we used to make fresh coffee.
right off the trees i mean. that was
good. this is shit, but hey...
can we get started again?
now what happened after the line-up?
verbal sneers at kujan, unable to change the subject.
30 ext. police station - night - new york - six weeks prior 30
keaton stops at the top of the front steps of the police
station and lights a cigarette. edie comes out behind him,
...and the desk sergeant is actually
trying to tell me he can't release you?
can you believe that? you weren't even
charged. new york police - jesus. i want
to take pictures of your face to bring to
the d.a. first thing in the morning.
just forget about it.
he looks across the street and sees fenster and mcmanus
talking by a newsstand. mcmanus is thumbing through
keaton looks to his right and sees hockney trying to hail a
i'11 have this thing in front of a grand
jury by monday.
edie, please. i don't want to hear this
right now. what did renault and fortier
they want more time to think about
they just said they wanted time.
time for what, edie? time to look into me
a little more, that's what. no matter how
well you cover my tracks now, they'll
find out who i am.
script date 5/25/94
give me some credit. i got you this far,
let's go to the grand jury. this is never
going to stop if we -
no. it's never going to stop, period. it
won't take more than a week before every
investor in this city is walking away
from us. it's finished. i'm finished.
just then, verbal bumps into him on his way out the door. he
excuses himself and hobbles down the steps, oblivious to who
he has bumped into as he tries to navigate the stairs.
don't give up on me now, dean.
they'll never stop.
i love you.
they ruined me tonight.
dean, i love you. do you hear me?
verbal gets to the sidewalk and stops. he turns, realizing it
is keaton on the steps.
let's just go to my place. we'll worry
about this tomorrow.
keaton and verbal look at one another for a moment. keaton
then looks over to the newsstand and sees fenster looking at
mcmanus notices fenster and glances up from his magazine to
see what he is looking at. +
come home with me, please. dean?
script date 5/25/94
keaton looks at hockney who has one foot in a cab. he is
looking at fenster and mcmanus who are looking at keaton.
this makes hockney look up at keaton as well.
suddenly, edie tunes in to what is going on. she notices the
others on the street. she reaches over and takes keaton by
the arm, pulling gently. she glares at the others.
come home, dean.
verbal looks at everyone else from where he stands on the
street. fenster, mcmanus and hockney all look at him and then
at each other. it is a strange moment of unspoken
all eyes finally turn to keaton, high on the front steps of
the police station as he walks away with edie.
31 int. hallway - day 31
verbal stands in front of an apartment door. he hesitates for
a long moment before he knocks.
after a moment, the door opens and keaton stands on the other
side of it. he is wearing a bathrobe and smoking a cigarette.
he looks at verbal without any expression whatsoever.
what are you doing here'! how did you find
i just asked one of the detectives
downtown. he seemed pretty happy to tell
keaton curses under his breath and motions for verbal to come
32 int. edie's apartment
verbal walks in and sits down on the couch, watching keaton
cautiously. he looks around the large apartment, beautifully
furnished and decorated.
script date 5/25/94
edie walks into the room in a man's button-down shirt and
dean, who was at the
she stops when she sees verbal. verbal stands and smiles
how do you do?
verb - roger, this is edie finneran.
edie, this is roger kint, he was at
i know who he is.
i hope i didn't disturb you.
i hope so, too, mr. kint. can i get you
something to drink?
a glass of water would be nice.
edie shoots a look at keaton on her way out of the room.
keaton tries to hush his voice despite his anger.
what the hell do you want?
i wanted to talk to you. the other guys -
i did you a favor by standing up for you
last night, but don't think we're
friends. i'm sorry, but i have other
they're gonna do a job. three million
dollars, maybe more.
keaton is speechless. verbal sits on the couch again.
script date 5/25/94
they sent me to offer you a cut. we could
use a fifth man - a driver - that's all
edie walks in with a glass of ice water and hands it to
verbal drinks slowly. edie stands over him, her face blank.
it is an awkward moment. she deliberately makes verbal
long pause - finally:
so what is it you do, mr. kint?
a hijacker like dean, here? or something
that's enough, edie.
i don't know what you came here for, but
we won't have any part of it.
keaton takes edie by the arm and tries to guide her toward
the other room. she pulls away, anger turning to rage.
i've spent the last year of my life
putting his back together again - i won't
have you come in here and - what makes
you think - get out. get out of m home.
how dare you come here?
keaton is pulling her now. she yanks her arm away and shoves
don't touch me. just don't,
she turns and walks out of the room. somewhere in the back of
the apartment, a door slams.
keaton turns and glares at verbal. verbal cringes.
if you'll just let me -
suddenly, keaton lunges. he grabs verbal by the lapels and
lifts him off the couch, moving him effortlessly across the
room and slamming him into the wall next to the front door.
he opens it.
don't hurt me.
hurt you, you sonofabitch? i could kill
keaton starts to shove verbal out the door.
they're going to hit the taxi service.
keaton freezes. long pause.
new york's finest taxi service.
they - that's bullshit. they don't
mcmanus has a friend in the fourteenth
precinct. they're coming out for one job
- thursday. they're picking up a guy
smuggling emeralds out of south america.
fenster and mcmanus have a fence set to
take the stuff.
what fence? who?
some guy in california. his name is
never heard of him.
keaton moves to throw verbal out. verbal grabs keaton and
you have to come.
what's with you? what do you care whether
i come or not?
they - they don't know me. you do. they
won't take me unless you go. look at me.
i need this.
don't tell me you don't need this. is
this your place?
keaton is unable to answer.
they're never going to stop with us, you
know that. this way we hit the cops where
it hurts and get well in the mean time.
keaton lets verbal go and steps back, thinking.
as clean as you could ever get, they'll
never let you go now.
script date 5/25/94
i'm not knocking you. you look like
you've got a good little seam going with
this lawyer -
wham. keaton punches verbal in the stomach and drops him to
one knee. verbal coughs and tries to find his breath.
you watch your mouth.
okay, okay. you say it's the real thing?
keaton reaches for verbal. verbal flinches. keaton gently
helps him up and guides him to the couch. they bath sit.
keaton reaches for a pack of cigarettes and lights one for
each of them.
verbal takes one and has a few drags, catching his breath and
rubbing his stomach in pain.
i was out of line.
i'11 be alright.
well, i'm sorry.
i'11 probably shit blood tonight.
keaton laughs. verbal thinks about it for a moment and laughs
keaton's laughter trails off. he thinks for a moment.
script date 5/25/94
how are they going to do it?
mcmanus wants to go in shooting. i said
fenster and hockney?
they're pretty pissed off. they'll do
anything. now i got a way to do it
without killing anyone:
but like i said,
they won't let me in without you.
not if we do it my way.
(lost in thought)
i swore i'd live above myself.
verbal smiles, knowing he has him.
33 ext. kennedy airport - day 33
new york's finest taxi service was not
your normal taxi service. it was a ring
of corrupt cops in the n.y.p.d. that ran
a high-profit racket, driving smugglers
and drug dealers all over the city. for a
few hundred dollars a mile, you got your
own black and white and a police escort.
they even had their own business cards.
oscar whitehead, a tall gray-haired man in his fifties comes
out of the international terminal in a white linen suit. he
holds a large suitcase in his right hand.
after a while, somebody started asking
questions and the taxi service shut down.
ever since then, internal affairs had
been waiting to catch them in the act.
oscar stands on the curb long enough to light a cigarette.
after a moment, a police cruiser pulls up to him. he opens
the back door and gets in.
and that was how we started. mcmanus came
to us with the job; fenster got the vans;
hockney supplied the hardware; 'i came
through with how to do it so no one got
killed - but keaton - keaton put on the
finishing touch. a little "fuck you" from
the five of us to the n.y.p.d.
the car drives out of the airport. a van follows at a
34 int. police car 34
sergeant jim strausz, a meaty, imposing looking man in his
forties drives the car. beside him is a thin, greasy looking
patrolman, steve rizzi. they are two drivers for new york's
finest taxi service.
how was the flight?
oscar hands rizzi a thick envelope.
will that get me to the pierre?
rizzi counts the stack of hundred dollar bills in the
that'll get you to cape god.
the two men laugh. strausz watches the road, expressionless.
35 ext. highway 35
the cruiser heads towards the heart of manhattan.
36 ext. street - later
the police car makes its way down a wide, abandoned street. a
white minivan pulls out behind it and heads the same way.
37 int. police car
strausz looks in the rear-view mirror. the white minivan is
flashing his high-beams.
strausz looks in front of him. a green minivan swerves in
front of them from out of nowhere. strausz slams on the
brakes and skids to a halt. the white minivan rams them from
strausz and rizzi are stunned for a moment as two more vans
screech up on either side of the cruiser, boxing it in with
only a few inches between them.
the cruiser is surrounded on all sides.
suddenly, shotgun barrels come through the open windows. they
come to rest, one on strausz's left temple one on rizzi's
right. rizzi looks out of the corner of his eye.
he sees the driver of the van next to him holding the shotgun
with one hand. a stocking is over the driver's head.
strausz looks straight ahead. the minivan in front of them is
missing a back window. another man with a stocking on his
head aims a sub-machine gun at them from inside.
by the twisted right hand holding the front of the gun, we
know it is verbal.
strausz and rizzi raise their hands without being asked.
38 ext. street 38
the driver of the white van gets out with a gallon jug in one
hand and a sledge hammer in the other.
moving like lightning, he jumps onto the roof of the police
script date 5/25/94
'he stands on the front of the roof and swings the hammer
39 int. police car
the hammer punches three huge holes in the windshield and
finally caves it in. strausz and rizzi are covered with
pebbles of broken glass. whitehead clutches his bag in the
back seat. he trembles in terror.
the man standing on the roof doubles over and sticks a gun in
strausz's face. his face hangs upside down and looks gruesome
- covered from the mouth up in a stocking. by the voice, we
know it is mcmanus.
give me the shit.
give it up.
oscar hands the suitcase up front and strausz passes it to
40 int. front van
through the front windshield of the front van we see keaton
at the wheel. verbal is behind him leaning out the back
beneath keaton's stocking mask we see he is trembling and
sweating - sickened by what he is doing.
he glances up at the rear-view mirror and looks at the scene
outside. he looks down at the floor in shame, shaking his
41 int. police car 41
strausz looks at rizzi.
the money. let's have it.
rizzi hands the money through the remains of the windshield.
mcmanus takes the money and stuffs it in his jacket. he steps
back and takes the cap off of the gallon jug. he quickly
pours some kind of liquid all over the roof of the car.
do you know who i am?
a hand reaches into the driver's side window and rips
strausz's badge off of his shirt.
strausz dares to turn his head right at the shotgun pointing
at him through the window. on the other end is a masked and
smiling todd hockney.
we db now, jerk-off.
mcmanus lights a pack of matches and drops them on the roof
of the car as he jumps off. the liquid ignites, the roof of
the car is instantly in flames.
strausz and rizzi attempt to bail out, but the vans are too
close for them to open the doors.
the vans pull away.
strausz and rizzi escape from the car.
oscar is trapped inside, screaming.
strausz and rizzi stop, each expecting the other to go let
42 ext. street - later 42
the scene is swarming with fresh police cars. strausz and
rizzi are fielding questions from a dozen other cops.
photographers are everywhere.
the papers got keaton's call that day and
were on the scene before the cops were.
strausz and rizzi were indicted three
days later. within a few weeks, fifty
more cops went down with them. it was
beautiful. everybody got it right in the
ass, from the chief on down.
43 int. garage - night
hockney, fenster, mcmanus and verbal are all laughing in a
secluded garage. they are still in their black clothes from
the robbery. hockney is throwing everyone a can of beer.
keaton sits off by himself. he watches the others, unable to
join in the festivities.
the others sit around a cheap card table. it is covered with
emeralds. dozens of them. everyone is in awe.
there's more than i thought.
when does the fence come?
redfoot? he never comes to see me. i have
to go see him.
yeah. it'll take a few days. me and
hold the fuckin' phone. you and fenster?
no, no, no.
guys, come on.
i'm sure you can understand my
then who goes?
we all go. how about it, keaton?
all eyes turn to keaton. he comes out of his trance.
we need to lay low for a while.
fine with me.
everyone looks at each other, their moment of distrust
blowing over. all eyes drift back to the emeralds on the
hockney begins to snicker, then mcmanus, then fenster. verbal
joins in at last.
mcmanus grabs verbal and hugs him, shaking him violently.
my boy with the plan.
suddenly, everyone yells and pours beer over verbal's head.
he laughs as he is drenched in white foam, nearly choking as
the others chant his name.
keaton watches from across the room, trying to smile in vain.
44 scene deleted 44'
45 int. waiting room - law office - day 45'
keaton and verbal sit side by side on a sofa. a sign on the
door behind them reads: montgomery and laguardia - attorneys
we're going to miss the flight.
we'll make it.
don't do this. send her a card -
we'll make it.
ms. finneran will be with you in a
keaton stands and paces across the waiting room. he comes to
a set of glass doors and looks through them.
keaton realizes he is standing on a balcony overlooking a
he sees edie working in the library with an old woman. the
two women talk for a moment.
suddenly, keaton turns with a start. verbal is standing
we're gonna miss the plane.
edie is smiling and laughing with the old woman.
keaton's face is marked with guilt and anguish.
keaton turns and walks out of the waiting room. verbal takes
one last glance at edie and turns back to keaton.
46 int. library
edie seems to sense something behind her. she turns and looks
through the glass doors and up into the waiting room.
nothing is there. she goes back to chatting with the old
47 int. rabin's office -day - los angeles - present 47
heartwarming. really, i feel weepy.
you wanted to know what happened after
the line-up, i'm telling you.
oh come on, verbal. who do you think
you're talking to? you really expect me
to believe he retired? for a woman?
bullshit. he was using her.
he loved her.
sure. and i'm supposed to believe that
hitting the taxi service wasn't his idea
that was all fenster and mcmanus.
come on. keaton was a cop for four years.
who else would know the taxi service
better? that job had his name all over
you keep trying to lay this whole ride on t
keaton. it wasn't like that. sure he
knew, but edie had him all turned around. r
i'm telling you straight, i swear. +
let me tell you something. i know dean
keaton. i've been investigating him for
three years. the guy i know is a cold- +
blooded bastard. l.a.p.d. indicted him on
three counts of murder before he was
kicked off the force, so don't sell me
the hooker with the heart of gold. +
you got him wrong.
do i? keaton was under indictment a total +
of seven times when he was on the force. +
in every case, witnesses either reversed +
their testimony to the grand jury or died +
before they could testify. when they t
finally did nail him for fraud, he spent +
five years in sing sing. he killed three
prisoners inside - one with a knife in
the tailbone while he strangled him to
death. of course i can't prove this but i
can't prove the best part either.
kujan pauses to drink some coffee.
dean keaton was dead. did you know that? r
he died in a fire two years ago during an
investigation into the murder of a
witness who was going to testify against
him. two people saw keaton enter a
warehouse he owned just before it went
up. they said he had gone in to check a +
leaking gas main. it blew up and took all
of dean keaton with it. within three
months of the explosion, the two
witnesses were dead, one killed himself
in his car and the other fell down an
open elevator shaft.
48 scene deleted
49 scene deleted/dialogue moved - bottom scene 47 49
50 int. workshop 50
rabin and louis look at one another as they listen.
kujan (on speaker)
six weeks ago i get an anonymous call
telling me i can find keaton eating at
mondino's with his lawyer, and there he
is. now because he never profited from
his alleged death and because someone
else was convicted for the murder we
tried to pin on keaton, we had to let him
51 int. rabin's office 51
he was dead just long enough for a murder
rap to blow over, then he had lunch.
script date 5/25/94
i don't know about that.
i don't think you do. but you say you saw
keaton die. i think you're covering his
ass and he's still out there somewhere. i
think he was behind that whole circus in
the harbor. my bet is he's using you
because you're stupid and you think he's
your friend. you tell me he's dead, so be
it. i want to make sure he's dead before
i go back to new york.
he wasn't behind anything. it was the
what lawyer, verbal?
verbal stammers for a moment, looking around wildly.
back when i was in that barber shop
quartet in skokie, illinois i used to
kujan grabs verbal's shirt and yanks him half out of his
you think i don't know you held out on
the d.a.? what did you leave out of that
testimony? i can be on the phone to ruby
deemer in ten minutes.
the d.a. gave me immunity.
not from me, you piece of shit. there is
no immunity from me. you atone with me or
the world you live in becomes the hell
you fear in the back of your tiny mind.
every criminal i have put in prison,
every cop who owes me a favor, every
creeping scumbag that works the street
for a living, will know the name of
verbal kint. you'll be the lowest sort of
rat, the prince of snitches, the loudest
cooing stool pigeon that ever grabbed his
ankles for the man. now you talk to me,
or that precious immunity they've seen so
fit to grant you won't be worth the paper
the contract put out on your life is
verbal looks at kujan with utter contempt.
there was a lawyer. kobayashi.
is he the one that killed keaton?
no. but i'm sure keaton's dead.
convince me. tell me every last detail.
52 scene deleted 52
53 int. hospital - day 53
(<< >> denotes lines spoken in hungarian) +
kovash's room is now filled with people. jack baer stands
next to daniel metzheiser, a balding man in his forties. next
to him is doctor plumber. across from her is ridgly waiters.
sitting beside the bed is tracy fitzgerald, a casually
dressed woman in her late twenties. she holds a 15x20 inch
drawing pad on her lap.
police fill the hall. people are talking loudly outside.
lionel bodi, a cop in his mid-twenties pushes his way in.
are you the translator?
patrolman lionel bodi, sir.
agent beer, this is getting out of hand.
i'11 see to it we're gone before he blows
his porch light, doctor.
baer gestures to tracy.
this is tracy fitzgerald. she's a
composite sketch artist from county.
the young couple smile at one another nervously.
i've got a noon meeting, baer.
agent baer, please.
everyone calm down.
ask this man about the shoot-out in the
<<my name is bodi. how are you'>>
kovash smiles with relief when he hears his own language.
<<how am 17 you are as stupid as that
one, but at least i can talk to you.>>
<<you'll be alright. he is from the
f.b.i. he is here to help you. he wants
to know what happened in the harbor.>>
<<we were there to buy a man and take him
back to hungary.>>
he says they were buying it doesn't
make sense. i'm sorry, i'm a little
rusty. they were there to buy something.
dope, we know.
<<you don't understand me either? god
help me, they are all idiots. s
(talking slowly) +
we were there to buy a man, you simple
boy. a witness. i don't know his name. a
witness who knew the devil.>>
not dope. something else. some what?.. he
doesn't knob what they were buying. but
not dope... people.
<<i'll tell you everything. i'11 even say
it slow enough for you to understand it.
just tell this man i want protection.
your witness is whacked, baer.
he says he'll tell us everything he knows
if we protect him.
tell him fine.
<<he says that is fine.>>
<<no, no, no. i need a guarantee from the
ridiculous man. i am going to be killed.
i have seen the devil and looked him in
no good. he needs guarantees. he says...
his life is in danger... he has seen the
devil... looked him in the eye.
i'11 be on my way.
baer grabs metzheiser by the arm.
tell him to tell this man what he was
telling me before. who is the devil? who
did he see?
<<who is this devil you keep talking
keyser soze he was in the harbor
shooting everyone in sight.>>
metzheiser is suddenly interested.
he says he saw him in the harbor. he was
shooting... killing... killing many men.
did he say keyser soze? he saw keyser
he says he saw him in the harbor. he was
shooting... killing... killing many men.
did he say keyser soze? he saw keyser
<<keyser soze. keyser sate. i've seen his
face. i see it when i close my eyes.>>
he says he knows his face. he sees it
when he closes his eyes.
ask him what this devil looks like.
tracy holds up her pad and pencil. she nods.
54 ext. los angeles skyline - day - five weeks prior
mcmanus' fence was this guy named
redfoot. he had a good reputation around
l.a. seemed like a good guy - looked like
a cowhide full of thumbtacks.
55 ext. friendship bell - night 55'
all five guys stand in a group. it is utterly quiet.
an old but well kept cadillac creeps into the lot from the
far end and idles up to them. the windows are tinted too much
to see in. the car passes within a few feet of them and
a moment later, a chrome and leather monster of a harley
davidson pulls into the lot. the rider is dressed in an
almost comical array of leather, silver and suede.
he waves to the caddy as it parks a few yards from keaton and
the others. it sits quietly, almost menacing.
as he gets closer, we can see he is wearing one black boot
and one red. keaton is still looking at them when the bike
pulls up to them and stops.
redfoot and mcmanus shake hands.
how've you been?
alright. how's it going, fenster?
script date 5/25/94
you got it?
mcmanus holds up a briefcase.
redfoot takes it and gets off the bike. he walks over to the
caddy. the door of the caddy opens. redfoot hands the case to
someone inside that we cannot see. the door closes.
snazzy dresser this guy.
a moment later, the door of the caddy opens again. someone
hands redfoot a different briefcase and he walks back over to
he hands him the case.
mcmanus hands the case back to hockney. hockney opens it,
revealing the stacks of money inside.
you must be keaton.
jesus, i'm sorry. redfoot, this is dean
keaton, that's todd hockney, and that's
the man with the plan.
are you guys interested in more work?
mcmanus moves to answer, but keaton cuts him off.
we're on vacation.
i've got a ton of work and no good
what's the job?
script date 5/25/94
keaton shoots mcmanus a foul look. mcmanus pretends not to
a jeweler out of texas named saul. he
rents a suite at a hotel downtown and
does free appraisals. buys whatever he
can. word is he moves with a lot of cash.
i'11 take the merchandise, you keep the
two bodyguards. pretty good.
give us time to check it out?
i'd expect nothing less.
we'll call you.
take your time. enjoy l.a.
a friend of mine in new york tells me you
knew spook hollis.
i hear you did time with old spook. yeah,
he was a good egg. i used to run a lot of
dope for him. fuckin' shame he got
i shivved him.
now mcmanus is shooting the angry look at keaton.
better you hear it from me now than
somebody else later.
business or personal?
script date 5/25/94
a little of both.
ain't it a crime? call if you're
redfoot fires up his bike and takes off with the caddy close
what's your fucking problem?
one job, that was the deal.
take it as it comes, brother.
this is bullshit.
mcmanus laughs and walks away. fenster and hockney follow.
verbal turns to keaton.
what is it keaton?
something - i don't know.
i ever tell you about the restaurant i
wanted to open?
keaton walks off. verbal follows him in confusion.
l.a., was good for about two hours. we
were from new york. there's no place to
eat after one; you can't get a pizza that
doesn't taste like a fried fruit-bat, and
the broads don't want to know you if you
don't look like a broad. within a few
days the last of us was ready to go back
to n.y., but keaton wouldn't have it, so
he really didn't have a choice. we went
56 int. parking garage - night
mcmanus walks along a line of cars. he comes across a black
mercedes and stops. he looks down at the license plate and
walks over to the next car, a green honda. he pulls a slim-
jim out of his jacket and pops the lock an the honda. he
reaches in and opens the hood. he walks around and sticks his
head in the engine.
57 int. van 57
verbal sits behind the wheel. keaton is beside him. hockney
and fenster are in the back. they all watch mcmanus from
where they are parked a few dozen yards away.
58 int. parking garage 58
the elevator bell sounds at the far end of the garage. the
doors open. two men in ill-fitting suits get out and look
around cautiously. the first is tucci, a big bellied, white
haired menace. the other is higham, lean and bad skinned.
they are bodyguards and give it away by their every careful
they turn back to the elevator and motion to someone inside.
out walks saul berg, a slightly overweight man in his forties
with an open collar silk shirt and a thick gold chain on his
hairy chest. he carries a large aluminum briefcase.
he lets his guards do the worrying. he walks straight to his
saul passes mcmanus under the hood of the honda. he takes out
his keys and pushes a button on his key chain. the mercedes
beeps three times and tells saul his alarm is off.
tucci keeps an eye on mcmanus. higham watches saul.
mcmanus pretends to tinker with the car's engine. he has put
a pistol just inside the grill and keeps it within reach.
the van on the other side of the garage starts and pulls out
of the spot. it cruises over toward the mercedes.
tucci sees the van. he and higham are suddenly busy trying to
keep track. they hear laughing behind them and turn around.
fenster and hockney are walking towards them. they are
sporting mustaches and sunglasses in addition to matching
suits, each with loud plaid sport coats, decades out of
style. saul glances at tucci and higham.
just get in the car saul.
under the hood of the honda and out of sight, mcmanus pulls
on a black ski mask.
the van gets closer.
i get out of the car, and man if the
thing wasn't wrecked. and i see this
broad in the back seat with nothing on.
saul gets in the car quickly but calmly as fenster and
hockney laugh and talk louder. they look drunk - the desired
i'm laughing so hard i can't breathe -
tucci and higham try to take it all in stride. saul's reverse
lights come on and he begins to back out of the spot.
...and the fat guy comes out of the car
with his pants on backwards and says -
suddenly, the van revs and screeches to a halt behind saul's
mercedes, blocking him in. hockney and fenster drop the drunk
act and snap to. they both pull out guns and start screaming.
don't move, you fuckers.
right there. freeze.
mcmanus comes up from under the hood.
tucci and higham throw their hands in the air. hockney and
fenster grab them and reach into their belts to get their
keaton jumps out of the van and runs up to saul's car, his
face covered in a ski mask. he yanks on the door handle but
it is locked. saul sits in terror behind the wheel. keaton
pulls out a pistol and smashes the window with it.
give me the case.
saul reaches over for the case. keaton trains the gun on him.
suddenly, saul comes up with a pistol and points it at
keaton. keaton sidesteps and grabs his wrist. the gun goes
off into the fender of the honda.
hockney and fenster both look over at the sound of the gun.
tucci and higham seize the opportunity. tucci grabs hockney,
higham grabs fenster. the four men grapple for the guns.
fenster's gun falls to the floor. mcmanus picks it up. he
trains a pistol on each bodyguard and takes a breath. they
are some ten feet apart and moving erratically. hockney and
fenster constantly fall in the line of fire.
mcmanus walks around the four men, keeping a pistol trained
on each of the guards. finally he comes to an angle where
they are all in front of him. one guard is a few feet away,
the other is ten feet past him.
the closer of the two moves in and out of the sights of the
pistol in mcmanus' right hand, the one farther away does the
same with the left.
verbal gets out of the van and moves towards them to help.
both of mcmanus' guns go off like one shot. tucci and higham
collapse, each with a bullet in his head
the only sound is saul grappling with keaton for the gun. his
arm is halfway out the window. his elbow rests in the door
keaton cannot get the gun out of his hand. finally, he pushes
down with all his weight. saul's elbow breaks backwards on
the door frame. he screams in agony. the gun falls from his
all five of the men look at each other for an impossibly long
moment. the confusion is only aggravated by saul's screaming.
slowly, keaton raises his pistol and aims it at saul. his
hand trembles, his eyes squint to near slits. his finger
tenses and slacks off over and over again on the trigger.
verbal shoots saul. keaton looks at him in surprise. verbal
trembles more than he does.
the garage is silent.
what the hell?
bad day. fuck it.
the elevator light comes on. all five men look.
keaton reaches into the car and grabs saul's case. everyone
else piles into the van. keaton gets in as verbal is driving
for the exit.
59 int. van 59
the mood in the van is grim. everyone is silent. keaton pops
the clasps on the case and opens it.
son of a bitch.
everyone looks in the case. it is filled with cash on one
side. the other side is filled with clear plastic bags of
60 ext. parking lot - night 60
keaton and the others stand in silhouette in front of the
lights of an oncoming car in the distance. we can make out
mcmanus loading a gun. +
what are you doing?
what does it look like? i'm going to kill
we did it your way. now i'11 deal with
you gonna kill him?
i'm going to deal with him.
the car, redfoot's escort caddy, is now in front of them.
the horn lets out three short blasts.
redfoot comes around from behind the caddy on his motorcycle.
he gets off the bike, trying to hide a faint smile.
mcmanus throws saul's case on the ground in front of him.
what the fuck is this, redfoot?
get a grip. i didn't know.
you didn't know.
the job got thrown to me by this lawyer.
who is he?
some limey. he's a middle-man for
somebody. he doesn't say and i don't ask.
we want to meet him.
he wants to meet you. he called last
night and asked me to set it up. what do
i tell him'
tell him we'll meet.
if you're lying, redfoot...
mcmanus, you're a real bad-ass, but get
off my tip.
mcmanus lunges for redfoot.
the caddy doors instantly pop open and rifle barrels come
into view from within.
fenster and hockney draw guns and aim at the caddy.
keaton and verbal grab mcmanus and hold him back.
redfoot gets on his harley, smiling defiantly.
real shame about saul getting whacked.
lot's of cops looking for the guys that
did it. i'm sure they'll get around to
he starts his bike.
redfoot drives off..the caddy waits until he is completely
out of sight before following.
61 int. rabin's office - day - present 61
so this lawyer...
came from redfoot.
and why leave this out when you talked to
a knock at the door
rabin sticks his head in.
someone to see you, agent kujan.
kujan steps out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
62 int. outside rabin's office 62
kujan smiles instantly, recognizing the man standing with
jack. what are you doing here?
i've been looking all over for you. you
still after the coke that walked out of
that blood bath in the harbor?
you can stop looking. there was no coke.
i've been in l.a. county with a guy they
pulled out of a drainpipe in san pedro
yesterday after the shoot-out. he came to +
this morning and started talking. he was
part of a hungarian mob there to do a
deal with a bunch of goats from
argentina. he says it was definitely not
a dope deal.
there was ninety-one million -
we know, but our man says no way on the
dope. this hungarian tells me the whole
bunch was pulling stumps for turkey the
next' day. they had no time to negotiate
that kind of product and no means to move
what was the money for?
he didn't know. no one doing the deal
knew except a few key people. this guy
says they were real hush about it.
whatever it was it was highly sensitive.
i don't get it.
they tell me you got the cripple from new
york in there. he mention keyser soze
bear with me here...
63 int. rabin's office - later
boom - the door bursts open.
who is keyser soze
verbal looks up in shock. he drops his cigarette and trembles
at the mere mention of the name.
64 int. hollywood athletic club - day - two weeks prior 64'
keaton stands while the rest sit and listen.
so i need to know if anyone can think of
anybody. somebody with power. enough to
possibly track us from new york.
look. we've been over it for an hour now.
i say we pack up and run. let's go back
to new york. at least get out of l.a.
suddenly, the sound of a man clearing his throat.
everyone turns to the door behind them.
mr. kobayashi a tall, slim, well groomed man stands in the
hall. he has a briefcase in his hand. he smiles politely.
keaton stands back and lets him in. kobayashi looks them
i am mr. kobayashi. i've been asked by my
employer to bring a proposal to you
gentlemen. that must be mr. hockney. i
recognize mr. fenster from his mug shot,
as well as mr. mcmanus.
i can only assume that you are mr. kint.
i believe you were the one who disposed
of saul. my employer sends his gratitude.
a most unexpected benefit.
everyone looks at one another in shock that he would know
what can we do for you?
my employer requires your services. one
job. one day's work. very dangerous. i
don't expect all of you to live, but
those who do will have ninety-one million
dollars to divide any way they see fit.
who's your boss?
my employer wishes to remain anonymous.
don't jerk me off. we all know what this
is. you don't work with me if i work with
you without knowing who i'm working for.
now let's cut the shit. who's the man?
i work for keyser sate.
a strange look crosses keaton's face. skepticism, mockery and
just a hint of fear. hockney, mcmanus and fenster all share
what is this?
who's keyser soze?
i am sure you've heard a number of tall
tales, myths and legends about mr. soze
i can assure you gentlemen, most of them
who's keyser soze?
judging by the sudden change in mood, i
am sure the rest of your associates can
tell you, mr. kint. i have come with an
offer directly from mr. soze. an order
in nineteen-eighty one, mr. keaton, you
participated in the hijacking of a truck
in buffalo, new york. the cargo was raw
steel. steel that belonged to mr. soze
and was destined for pakistan to be used
in a nuclear reactor. a very profitable
violation of u.n. regulations. you had no
way of knowing this, because the man
shipping the steel was working for mr.
sate without his knowledge. +
mr. fenster and mr. mcmanus hijacked a
twin-prop cargo flight earlier this year
out of newark airport. the plane was
carrying platinum and gold wiring. also
set for pakistan.
kobayashi turns and points at hockney.
two months ago, mr. hockney stole a truck
carrying gun parts through queens -
everyone looks at hockney. he smiles shyly. it occurs to them
all that he robbed the truck for which they were all arrested
in the first place.
- guns allegedly set to be destroyed by
the state of new york. they were to be
"lost" in a weigh station and routed to
belfast. again, mr. sate using pawns who
had no knowledge.
(turning to verbal)
which brings us to mr. kint.
verbal crumbles under his stare.
nine months ago, one of mr. soze less
than intelligent couriers was taken in a
complicated confidence seam by a cripple.
he was relieved of sixty-two thousand
(to all of them)
- it has taken us some time to find you.
our intention was to approach you after
your apprehension in new york.
you set up the line-up.
mr. soze made a few calls, yes. you were
not to be released until i came to see
you. it seems mr. keaton's attorney, ms.
finneran, was a bit too effective in
expediting his release. holding the rest
of you became a moot point.
what about redfoot?
mr. redfoot knew nothing. mr. soze rarely t
works with the same people for very long,
and they never know who they're working
for. one cannot be betrayed if one has no
so why tell us?
because you have stolen from mr. soze.
that you did not know you stole from him
is the only reason you are still alive,
but he feels you owe him. you will repay
who is this guy? how do we know you work
i don't think that is relevant, mr.
hockney. the five of you are responsible
for the murder of saul berg and his
bodyguards. mr. redfoot can attest to
your involvement, and we can see to it
that he will. he is not of your
this is a load of shit.
the offer is this, gentlemen. mr. soze's
primary interest, as i am sure you all
know, is narcotics. he's been - competing
shall we say, with a group of
argentinians for several years. competing
with mr. soze has taken its toll. these
argentinians are negotiating the sale of
ninety-one million dollars in cocaine in
three days time. needless to say, this
purchase will revitalize the diminishing
strength of their organization. mr. soze
wants you to stop the deal. if you
choose, you may wait until the buy.
whatever money changes hands is yours.
the transaction will take place on a boat
in san pedro. mr. soze wants you to get
to the boat and destroy the cocaine on
board. then you are free of your
obligation to mr. soze.
give me one good reason why i shouldn't
kill you right now.
kobayashi smiles and puts his briefcase on the table in front
a gift from mr. soze gentlemen.
he turns and walks out of the room.
keaton walks over to the case and opens it. he reaches in and
pulls out five thick manila envelopes, each marked in bold
black letters. "keaton", "mcmanus", "hockney", "fenster" and
keaton pulls out the files, revealing a map underneath.
keaton hands each man his file. he opens his first. he pulls
out a thick stack of papers and thumbs through them.
jesus christ. open them.
all of the men open their files. inside are mug shots of each
man in his respective file as well as a printout of his
criminal record. but there is more.
they know everything.
this is my life in here. everything i've
done since i was eighteen.
everybody i ever worked with, did time
they fucking know everything.
keaton pulls out a large black and white photograph of
himself and his lawyer edie finneran. they are laughing arm
in arm by a fountain in new york. he hides the photo from the
this is not right.
i don't know. who was that guy that used
to talk about soze in new york?
yeah. he said he did jobs for him.
indirect stuff. always five times more
money than the job was worth.
come on. the guy is a pipe dream. this
kobayashi is using him for window
i don't know. this is bad.
it's bullshit. this guy could be l.a.p.d.
i think it's a setup.
the way i hear it, soze is some kind of
butcher. no pity.
there' is no keyser soze
verbal thumbs through his file. a long list of names,
numbers, addresses. it is a detailed portfolio of his entire
criminal and personal life. he looks up at keaton.
who is keyser soze
65 int. rabin's office - day - present 65
kujan leans into verbal's face. he hangs on his every word.
he is supposed to be turkish. some say r
his father was german. nobody believed he
was real. nobody ever saw him or knew
anybody that ever worked directly for
him, but to hear kobayashi tell it,
anybody could have worked for soze. you
never knew. that was his power. the
greatest trick the devil ever pulled was
convincing the world he didn't exist. one
story the guys told me - the story i
believe - was from his days in turkey.
there was a petty gang of hungarians that
wanted their own mob. they realized that
to be in power you didn't need guns or
money or even numbers. you just needed +
the will to do what the other guy
wouldn't. after a while they come to
power, and then they come after soze he
was small time then, just running dope,
66 scene deleted 66
67 int. soze's home - day 67
three of the hungarians come bursting into keyser soze's +
home. they grab his five children and round them up in the
front room. one of the men grabs his wife and back-hands her
across the face.
they come to his home in the afternoon
looking for his business. they find his
wife and kids in the house and decide to
wait for sate.
68 int. soze's home - later 68'
the front door opens and in walks keyser sate. we are never t
allowed to see his face.
sate's wife lies in the corner, beaten and bruised. her dress
is tattered to shreds. she cannot look up at her husband.
the three hungarians stand to greet him. two hold guns in
their hands. the third holds a straight razor. he grabs
soze youngest boy and holds the razor to his throat.
he comes home to his wife raped and his
children screaming. the hungarians knew
soze was tough. not to be trifled with.
so they let him know they meant business.
the hungarian smiles. soze's wife screams in horror.
the hungarian holds up a blood soaked razor.
suddenly, he grabs another child. a little girl no older than
they tell soze they want his territory -
all his business. soze looks over the +
faces of his family... then he showed
these men of will what will really was.
suddenly, soze pulls out a pistol and shoots the two men with
guns. he turns and aims at the third man holding his child.
the man threatens to cut the child's throat, slicing just
enough to draw blood.
the stunned hungarian watches the child fall from his arms.
sate turns the pistol on the next child, then the next and
the next. he kills his children one by one in front of the
he tells him he would rather' see his
family dead than live another day after
soze walks over to his wife, crying and beaten on the floor
and holds up her head. she gives him the strangest look. one
of trust perhaps, saturated with fear and humiliation.
he puts the gun between her eyes and fires.
he lets the last hungarian go, and he
goes running. he waits until his wife and
kids are in the ground and he goes after
the rest of the mob. he kills their kids,
he kills their wives, he kills their
parents and their parents' friends.
a dark and looming figure of a man walks in front of a wall
of fire - a black shadow blurred by waves of heat.
he burns down the houses they live in and
the stores they work in, he kills people
that owe them money. and like that he was
gone. underground. no one has ever seen
him again. he becomes a myth, a spook
story that criminals tell their kids at
night. if you rat on your pop, keyser
sate will get you. and nobody really ever
69 int. rabin's office - day
do you believe in him, verbal?
keaton always said: "i don't believe in
god, but i'm afraid of him." well i
believe in god, and the only thing that
scares me is keyser soze.
70 int. workshop
jack baer and rabin listen to verbal on the speaker with one
you give this any weight, agent baer?
i can introduce you to dan metzheiser
from justice. he has a file on sate in
d.c. it's been a hobby of his for a few
years. a lot of guys equate him to that
reporter on the incredible hulk.
had you heard of him before?
on the street? a few times. outside
stuff. somebody was working for a guy who
was working for a guy who got money
through keyser soze. that kind of shit.
could be an old badge. a hex sign to keep
people from fucking with you back when a
name meant something.
but you're here.
shit yeah. i got a guy trying to walk out
of the hospital on d fried drumstick to
get away from soze. i'11 run it up the
71 int. rabin's office 71
i came clean. i told it like it happened
on the boat. so what if i left out how i
got there? it's got so many holes in it,
the d.a. would've told me to blow amnesty
out my ass. so you got what you wanted
out of me. big fucking deal.
and this is why you never told the d.a.
you tell me, agent kujan. if i told you
the loch ness monster hired me to hit the
harbor, what would you say?
turn state's evidence. take the stand on
this and we'll hear it out.
i've got immunity now. what can you
possibly offer me?
if there is a keyser soze he'll be
looking for you.
where's your head, agent kujan? where do
you think the pressure's coming from?
keyser soze - or whatever you want to
call him - knows where i am right now.
he's got the front burner under' your ass
to let me go so he can scoop me up ten
minutes later. immunity was just to deal
with you assholes. i got a whole new
problem when i post bail.
so why play into his hands? we can
gee, thanks, dave. bang-up job so far.
extortion, coercion. you'll pardon me if
i ask you to kiss my pucker. the same
fuckers that rounded us up and sank us
into this mess are telling me they'll
bail me out? fuck you. you think you can
catch keyser soze? you think a guy like
that comes this close to getting fingered
and sticks his head out? if he comes up
for anything, it will be to get rid of
after that, my guess is you'll never hear
from him again.
72 int. hallway outside hospital room - day 72
doctor plumber watches from out in the hall. +
kovash spits out a constant river of hungarian while bodi
tries to keep up, relaying everything to tracy fitzgerald.
she sketches frantically while daniel metzheiser looks on.
the composite sketch of keyser soze is taking form.
(<< >> denotes liners spoken in hungarian.)
<<what sort of nose did he have?>>
<<it was smaller than that. sharper.>>
(to tracy) +
the nose is sharper. smaller too. +
(to arkosh in hung.)
<<and what about the hair? you said
something earlier about it.>>
<<it is longer than that. and not so
<<are you sure?>>
<<don't be stupid.>>
he says the hair is longer and lighter.
73 ext. beach - day
waves pound across a stone jetty. a man sits fishing while
his young son, brando strolls toward the open sea. he pokes
at rocks and seaweed with a fishing pole. he glances down at
something wedged between the rocks beneath his feet. he
pokes at it. he notes the checkered pattern of the fabric
entwined with the twisted mess. it is the bloated carcass of
the man in the checkered bathrobe. brando pokes it's eye
with the fishing pole. it pops.
74 scene deleted/dialogue moved
75 int rabin's office
that was how i ended up in a barber shop
quartet in skokie, illinois.
this is totally irrelevant.
oh, but it's not. if i hadn't been
nailed in illinois for running a three
card monte in between sets, i never would
have took off for new york. i never
would have met keaton, see. that barber
shop quartet was the reason for
can we just get back to kobayashi?
the quartet is part of the bit about
kobayashi. the quartet was in my file,
along with every other thing i had done
since high school, see? aliases, middle-
men. they knew me better than i did.
they knew all of us.
kujan looks at his watch.
you're stalling, verbal.
give a guy a break, huh?
verbal slumps a bit. he realizes his stalling tactic has
we woke up the next morning and fenster
was gone. he couldn't handle the idea of
slumming for soze. he left a note wishing
us good luck and took a chunk of the
money we'd scraped together.
script date 5/25/94
mcmanus was furious. he was talking about
tracking him down and ripping his heart
out and all sorts of shit. that night we
got the call.
kobayashi told us where we could find
76 ext. beach - night - two weeks prior 76
keaton looks out over the ocean and smokes a cigarette.
what do you want to do with him?
mcmanus kneels in the sand. hockney and verbal stand behind
him, staring at something in front of them.
it is the body of fred fenster, literally peppered with
bullet holes. mcmanus stares at him, fighting any flicker of
i worked five years with fenster. more
jobs, more money than i can count.
i'm sorry, mcmanus.
i want to bury him.
mcmanus springs to his feet and points a pistol at keaton.
keaton turns to face him and raises his head. mcmanus might
as well be pointing a feather-duster.
you will find time. you're not the only
one with debts, man.
with our hands.
77 mt. beach 77'
everyone digs in the sand on the deserted beach with their
hands. they are up to their waists in the hole they have
scooped out. fenster's body is a few feet away.
this is nuts.
this is fucking dry sand, man. when he
rots, the surfers'll smell him from a
hundred yards out.
dig, you fucker.
hockney can see that mcmanus has truly gone over the edge for
now. keaton gives him a look that says don't argue.
keaton, we gotta go. they're gonna find
what are we gonna do?
i can run. i got no problem with that.
they don't seem to have a problem with it
this ain't my boy we're burying. i don't
script date 5/25/94
we got a deal here.
since tonight. +
it's not payback. i don't answer to you. +
it's precaution. you want payback? you
want to run? i don't care. i'm going to
finish this thing. not for fenster, not
for anybody else, but
for me. this kobayashi cocksucker isn't
going to stand over me.
all of you can go to hell.
keaton turns and digs furiously with both hands. hockney
takes a moment and slowly starts to do the same.
the four men dig for fenster. the first to find some rest.
78 int. rabin's office - day - present 78
verbal smokes with his good hand shaking badly.
and after they killed fenster nobody
i wanted to. i thought we could make it.
why didn't you say anything?
i tried, believe me, but keaton wouldn't
have it. it was too far-fetched for him.
keaton was a grounded guy. an ex-cop. to
a cop, the explanation is never that
complicated. it's always simple. there's
no mystery on the street, no arch-
criminal behind it all. if you got a dead
guy and you think his brother did it,
you're going to find out you're right.
nobody argued with keaton. they just set
their minds on whacking kobayashi.
79 ext. parking lot - night - two weeks prior 79
redfoot's harley rests on the roof of the caddy in a mangled
heap. the body of the caddy is riddled with bullet holes.
redfoot's dead body has been shoved head-first through a hole
in the windshield up to his waist, recognizable only by the
trademark red boot.
80 int. office building - day
kobayashi walks through the front door of a plush office
tower followed by two bodyguards. he heads toward the
elevator, failing to notice hockney a few feet away, reading
we see a wire running from hockney's ear to his collar.
he's coming up.
81 int. hallway - fortieth floor
keaton, mcmanus and verbal stand by the six elevators on the
fortieth floor. they are all wearing khaki overalls and tool
belts with walkie-talkies. they look like servicemen.
all of the elevators have been propped open and stranded.
mcmanus moves into one of the elevators. as the doors close i
behind him, he scrambles for the ceiling hatch.
82 scene deleted
83 scene deleted
84 scene deleted
85 scene deleted
86 int. hallway
keaton and verbal listen for anything on the radio.
87 scene deleted
88 scene deleted
89 int. lobby
the elevator opens. kobayashi and his bodyguards get on the
90 int. elevator
the elevator is empty except for the three men. mcmanus has
vanished. kobayashi presses a button and they are on the way.
suddenly, the ceiling hatch opens and mcmanus' arm comes out.
pop - pop. two shots from a suppressed pistol and the guards
drop to the floor, dead.
kobayashi looks up with surprising calm into mcmanus' barrel.
91 int. hallway - fortieth floor
the elevator opens and kobayashi is greeted by keaton and
verbal. mcmanus drops from the ceiling hatch and pushes him
verbal and mcmanus grab the dead bodies and drag them out of
the elevator. they drag them to the next elevator which has
been forced open, revealing an empty shaft.
the answer is no.
mr. soze will be most -
listen to me, cocksucker. there is no
keyser sate. if you say his name again,
i'11 kill you right here.
a strange threat. i can only assume
you're here to kill me anyway. pity about
fair trade for fenster.
the elevator opens and hockney steps out.
ahh, mr. hockney. do join us.
we know you can get to us, and now you
know we can get to you. i'm offering you
the chance to call this off.
mr. so- my employer has made up his mind.
he does not change it.
neither do we.
you got fenster, you may get more, but
you won't get us all. not before one of
us gets to you.
i believe you, mr. mcmanus. i quite
sincerely do. you would not have been
chosen if you were not so capable, but i
cannot make this decision. whatever you
can threaten me with is... ludicrous in
comparison to what will be done to me if
just so you know. i'm the guy. i'm the
one that's gonna get through to you.
i am sorry, mr. mcmanus.
f implore you to believe me, mr. keaton.
mr. soze is very real and very +
mcmanus holds a pistol to kobayashi's chin. the lawyer's cool
eyes never falter'.
before you do me in, you will let me
finish my business with ms. finneran
first, won't you?
suddenly, keaton grabs mcmanus' hand and pulls the gun away
before he can shoot.
what did you say?
edie finneran. she is upstairs in my
office for an extradition deposition. i
requested she be put on the case
personally. she flew out yesterday.
everyone looks at keaton.
no matter. kill away, mr. mcmanus.
92 int. hallway - fiftieth floor
everyone follows kobayashi quietly down a dimly lit, oak-
lined hallway. verbal holds a small pistol discreetly in the
small of kobayashi's back.
script date 5/25/94
they come to a glass office foyer. kobayashi gestures and
everyone looks through the glass into the lobby beyond.
edie finneran is talking casually with the receptionist.
93 int. lobby 93
edie glances toward the men in the hall.
keaton turns quickly on his heels, facing the others. from
where edie stands, it looks as though kobayashi is talking to
a group of harmless maintenance men.
they see a large man dressed very much like the two dead
bodies left in the hall downstairs. the man notices kobayashi
and the others. he stands and stares menacingly.
ms. finneran's escort in los angeles.
never leaves her for a moment. i thought
you'd like to know she was in good hands.
keaton's mind races for an alternative. he can find none.
verbal lowers his gun without being told.
get your rest, gentlemen. the boat will
be ready for you on friday. if i see you
or your friends before then, or fail to
check in every half hour with that
unpleasant looking man in there, ms.
finneran will find herself the victim of
a gruesome violation before she dies. as
will your father, mr. hockney. and your
uncle randall in arizona, mr. kint. i
might only castrate mr. mcmanus' nephew,
david. do i make myself clear?
all of the men surround kobayashi, aching to kill him.
i'11 take care of the dead men
downstairs. we'll add them to the cost of
mr. fenster. now if you'll excuse me.
kobayashi walks into the office. edie turns to greet him.
keaton slowly turns and watches as they shake hands and talk.
kobayashi says something they cannot hear and edie laughs,
her back to the window.
script date 5/25/94
kobayashi smiles over her shoulder at keaton.
all the while, the bodyguard watches keaton. he nods politely
before keaton and the others leave. verbal watches for a
moment more and follows.
94 ext. hillside road - day 94'
keaton, verbal, hockney and mcmanus sit in a rented sedan
overlooking san pedro harbor.
another file from kobayashi's briefcase is laid out on the
dashboard. this has a map and a good fifty pages of
information in it.
it's a logistical nightmare. close
quarters, no advance layout, ten men,
can we stealth these guys?
doubtful. with all that coke, they'll be
ready - which brings me to sunny spot
number two. even if one of us gets
through and jacks the boat, we get
and if we wait for the money?
ten more men at least. in my opinion, it
can't be done. anyone who walks into this
won't come out alive.
i'm for waiting for the money.
did you hear what he just said?
if i'm going in, i want a stake.
so do i.
verbal is shocked by what he is hearing. he looks at keaton
as if to ask him for his decision.
keaton's cold stare is all the answer verbal needs. he slumps
in his seat, resigned to the others.
i just can't believe we're just gonna
walk into certain death.
they all suddenly realize the weight of their situation.
news said it's raining in new york.
no one knows quite how to respond.
95 ext, pier - san pedro - night 95
a large boat, sleek and yacht-like, but without finesse. this
is a boat for business - heavy and fast. it is moored to the
a large crane hoists a pallet of fuel drums from the dock. it
swings slowly over the boat. a man on the dock yells in
spanish to the crane operator.
96 ext. boathouse 96
behind an old and weathered boat in dry-dock, keaton and
verbal watch the boat from the shadows.
what-are they speaking?
russian, i think. i don't know.
knock it off.
dolly over to reveal:
mcmanus climbing up the side of the boathouse.
continue past him to reveal: r
a large boat. a very large boat.
97 ext. barge 97
hockney maneuvers through a mesh of twisted steel, arriving
at a vantage point near the stern of the large boat.
a black van pulls up and parks near the crane. four men in
suits get out. one remains with the van and the other three
walk toward the boat.
on the boat, five men come up from below deck. they are tense
and cautious around the men in suits. someone speaks in
spanish and someone else in russian. it takes a moment before
anyone speaks the same tongue. they settle on french for both
hockney sits in the van. he handles a large shoulder bag +
stuffed with plastique. he tests a timer on top.
he picks up a walkie-talkie.
are we ready, kids?
98 scene deleted 98
99 scene deleted/moved to bottom scene 97 99
100 ext. boathouse.-- roof 100
mcmanus is positioning himself on the roof of the boathouse.
he stops and grabs his radio.
if i didn't have to stop and answer you,
i would be.
101 mt. boathouse 101'
everyone shut up. i'm ready. mcmanus, you
better be set up in ten seconds.
i want you to stay here. understand?
but i'm supposed to -
if we don't make it out, i want you to
take the money and go.
keaton, i can't just -
i want you to find edie. both of you find
some place safe. tell her what happened -
everything. she knows people. she'll know
what to do. if we can't get kobayashi my
way, she'll get him her way.
what if i
just do what i tell you.
keaton turns and takes a few steps. he stops and looks back,
his face marked with guilt and agony.
tell her i... tell her i tried.
keaton leaves before verbal can respond. he walks down a ramp
toward the boat.
he is no more than a few yards out of the shadows before the
first man sees him.
102 ext. dock 102'
one of the men in suits starts to yell to the others. men
pull out guns and try to look as cool as they can.
keaton walks right into the face of all of these men,
undaunted. his hands are in his pockets.
above him, in the darkness, mcmanus pokes his head out and
spies keaton. he pulls his head back and sticks out the
barrel of the rifle.
keaton comes to a stop about twenty feet from fifteen men all
103 ext. boathouse - roof 103'
mcmanus stares through the scope of his rifle at the scene.
the cross-hairs breeze past keaton and find a target. a man
in a suit.
he moves to another and then another, picking up speed and
mock-shooting the men. he is steady and quick. it is clear he
could take all fifteen in a few seconds.
pow-pow-pow-pow-pow-pow . oswald was a
104 ext. dock 104'
the men shout questions at keaton in a number of languages.
105 ext. barge 105'
a few men standing on the dock near the stern of the large
boat, move towards the commotion.
hockney bails out and runs quickly and quietly through the
shadows, bringing the bomb with him.
106 ext. boathouse'' 106'
verbal remains in the darkness, looking frightened.
107 int. boathouse - roof 107a
mcmanus still wanders with his scope.
old mcdonald had a farm, ee-aye, ee-aye,
oh. and on this farm he shot some guys.
ba-da-bip, ba-da-bing, bang-boom.
108 ext. dock 108'
finally two men walk right towards keaton. the rest train
guns on him. they reach for his arms, pointing their guns
right at him.
at the far end of the dock, hockney throws his bomb onto the
stern of the large boat.
the men surrounding keaton, are distracted.
keaton pulls a pistol out of each pocket and shoots the two
men closest to him.
109 ext. boathouse - roof 109'
elvis has left the building.
he fires as fast as he can.
110 ext. pier 110
the men from the boat and the men in suits try to peg keaton,
but mcmanus' sniping has them running.
111 int. crane 111
the crane operator opens the door to bails out, leaving the
crane in motion.,,
112 ext. boathouse - roof 112'
mcmanus runs across the roof of the boathouse and jumps down
to the pier. he arrives at a thick mooring cable and climbs
across to the boat. i
meanwhile on the dock:
keaton climbs up onto a small lifeboat hanging from the side
of the larger boat. from this he climbs aboard the large
113 ext. dock 113f
hockney is firing in all directions.
suddenly, he realizes no one is left on the dock.
finally, he turns and runs back for the van parked on the
pier above. he finds a ramp leading from the dock to the
at the van, he finds the one man who has stayed behind to
protect it. i i
the man hears hockney coming and raises his gun. hockney runs i
straight at him, screaming frantically. i
<<don't shoot, don't shoot. let's get the +
fuck out of here. everyone is dead.>>
he shoots the man point blank in the face and runs over his
body as it falls.
he gets to the back door of the van and yanks it open.
the inside is stacked with large wooden crates.
114 int. van 114
hockney, suddenly oblivious to the sound of gunfire, opens
one of the crates and looks inside.
it is filled with money. cash and negotiable bonds of all
blood sprays all over the money. hockney looks at it,
hockney raises a blood-soaked hand from his belly.
he turns and stares in horror.
boom - another shot takes off the top of his head.
115 ext. pier 115
mcmanus runs like a wild man across the deck, heading for the
he shoots in all directions as though he has eyes in the back
of his head. he sees keaton climbing onto the deck of the
116 ext. warehouse 116
verbal is wrestling with what to do. he finally makes a break
for the other side of the boathouse.
117 ext. boat deck 117'
the crane continues to swing.
a single bullet hits one of the barrels on the suspended
gasoline pours out through the bullet-hole.
118 scene deleted ' 118f
119 ext. boat 119
keaton finds the hatch and goes below, shooting a man on his
way up the stairs. mcmanus jumps on board and runs down
120 ext'. pier 120'
verbal arrives at the top of the ramp leading from the dock
to the pier. +
he ducks down behind a guardrail beside the ramp.
he turns and sees hockney's dead body next to the van.
he looks around frantically, frozen in terror.
it is quiet, except for the sounds of screaming, far off in
the bowels of the boat and the hum of the crane.
121 int. rabin's office - day - present 121
why didn't you run?
i froze up. i thought about fenster and
how he looked when we buried him, then i
thought about keaton. it looked like he
might pull it off.
a knock on the door.
rabin steps in and motions for kujan to come outside.
rabin and jack baer are in the hall. rabin hands kujan a
thick manila folder. kujan thumbs through it.
a boy came across a body on the beach
this morning. thrown clear when the boat
burned. shot once in the head. two guys
from the f.b.i. just identified him. +
his name was arturo marquez. a petty
smuggler out of argentina. he was
arrested in new york last year for
trafficking. he escaped to california and
got picked up in long beach. they were
setting up his extradition when he
escaped again. get this - edie finneran
was called in to advise the proceedings.
i called new york county and they fared
me a copy of marquez's testimony. he was
kujan pulls out page after page from the file.
a big fucking rat.
arturo was strongly opposed 'to going back
to prison. so much so that he informed on
close to fifty guys. guess who he names
for a finale?
kujan finds one sheet and notices a paragraph is highlighted.
123 int. rabin's office - moments later 123
kujan walks in and sits down in front of verbal. he smiles.
i'11 tell you what i know. stop me when
it sounds familiar.
verbal is confused.
there was no dope on that boat.
124 int. boat - night - one week prior 124
keaton is weaving through tight, low-ceiling corridors,
looking in every cabin, working his way towards the bottom of
elsewhere in the boat, mcmanus is tearing though the
corridors, seemingly less interested in securing the cargo as
he is in killing everyone on board.
he screams like a lunatic, shooting everything in his path,
killing some men with his bare hands, shooting others,
stabbing others still with a knife he has brought along.
125 int. corridor
jaime, one of the men from the boat, is half-pushing, half-
helping a thin and sweaty looking man in a checkered bathrobe
towards a cabin at the end of the hall.
the man in the robe is trembling. he seems stricken with
man in robe
he's here. i saw him on deck.
jaime pushes him inside the cabin and shuts the door.
a stereo playing softly in the room mixes with the man's
the man in the robe screams through the closed door, his
voice echoing off of the metal bulkheads.
man in robe
i'm telling you it's keyser soze.
jaime stands outside the door of the cabin and turns to face
down the hall. off in some other part of the boat, he can
hear mcmanus wailing like a banshee and the ever-less
frequent sound of gunshots.
126 int. hold 126
keaton has come to the four-foot-high door to the hold. the
door is open slightly. keaton finds this strange. he pushes
the door open and steps inside. the hold is empty.
he hears a noise behind him. he wheels around to fire. he
sees mcmanus in the door. his face is covered with blood.
did you hear what i heard?
what happened to you?
keyser soze is on the boat.
i heard somebody screaming his nuts off.
he said keyser soze was on the boat.
are you alright?
mcmanus rubs some of the blood off with his sleeve.
script date 5/25/94
huh? oh, it's not mine.
there's no coke.
mcmanus looks around the hold as though he'll see four and a
half tons of dope in some corner where keaton might have
the two men look at one another. there is a long, pregnant
let's get the fuck out of here.
right behind you.
127 int. corridor 127
keaton and mcmanus step out of the hold, walking slowly and
cautiously back from where they came. they hear the sounds of
footsteps running on the deck above and the occasional
hollered sentence in spanish.
i don't think he made it to the boat.
they come to a corner. they can go left or right.
i can't remember which way.
boom - boom
gunshots fill the hallway from behind them. they do not stop
to turn around. keaton goes left, mcmanus goes right. they
run in opposite directions with the sound of gunfire right
128 int. hallway - cabin 128
jaime squints and cocks his head.
someone is coming. he raises a pistol and crouches by the
129 int. cabin 129
the man in the bathrobe sits on the foot of the bed watching
the door. he hears the sounds of fighting somewhere not too
he crawls over the bed and squeezes between it and the
bulkhead. only the top of his head is visible. he starts to
boom - boom - two shots just outside in the hall.
suddenly, the door bursts open. jaime collapses in a heap on
the floor, a bullet hole in his eye.
a figure looms in the door
the man in the bathrobe looks up at the figure. we cannot see
man in robe
i told them nothing.
the man in the robe falls dead.
130 ext. deck - moments later 130
the boat is quiet now. keaton walks out onto the deck.
he looks out over the pier and sees verbal standing in the
middle of the carnage, frozen. their eyes meet. keaton waves
at him as if to shoe him away.
131 ext. pier - top of ramp 131
verbal hesitates and finally moves towards the van with the
money. he looks back over his shoulder and sees keaton.
keaton sees him looking and waves again, hurrying him along.
verbal turns away and focuses on the van.
132 ext. deck
keaton hears a noise behind him. he swings around and points
his gun at mcmanus again. he puts the gun down.
mcmanus smiles. he walks slowly across the deck towards
keaton. something is not right about him.
he slumps to the deck. keaton rushes over to him. he kneels
down and sees a pipe sticking out of the back of mcmanus's
133 ext. pier 133'
verbal approaches the van, stepping over hockney's body. he
closes the back doors of the van. ,
he looks to his left at the huge loading crane. he glances
upward along the giant' arm as it swings steadily on.
somewhere, off in the distance, the sound of sirens can be
134 ext. deck 134
keaton kneels by mcmanus, trembling with rage. after a moment
he stands, looking down at mcmanus' dead body.
135 ext. pier 135
suddenly, verbal realizes something. he turns and goes to
call out a warning to keaton. he is too late.
136 ext. deck 136
keaton never sees the crane coming.
the pellet of barrels hits him square in the back and sends
him flying into the wheel house of the boat.
keaton is still for a moment. finally, he tries to get up,
but finds he cannot move his legs.
137 ext. pier 137
verbal runs down the ramp as fast as he can. he comes to a
rope ladder hanging down the side of the boat. +
suddenly, he stops dead in his tracks, looking up at the
>from where he stands, he can just make out the figure of a
tau, thin man walking along the edge of the deck. he moves
quietly and calmly in the shadows towards the crane, looking
out of place in his expensive suit.
something about this man terrifies him.
138 scene deleted ' 138'
139 int. rabin's office - day - present . 139
and that's when you say in your statement
that you saw...
kujan picks up his copy of verbal's statement to the d.a.
a man in a suit with a slim build. tall.
wait a minute.
(looking at watch)
i don't have a minute. are you saying it
was keyser soze? you told the d.a. you
didn't know who it was.
verbal is drowning in kujan's interrogation. he looks dazed.
i - there had to be dope there.
don't shine me, verbal. no more stalling.
you know what i'm getting at.
yes you do. you know what i'm getting at.
the truth. try to tell me you didn't
know. try to tell me you saw someone kill
for the first time, verbal stands and tries to move away from
kujan, but kujan stays in his face, backing him into a
corner. verbal shields himself with his hands and shuts his
try to reef lying to me now. i know
i don't know what you're talking about.
you know. you've known this whole fucking
time. give it to me.
verbal looks into kujan's eyes with genuine terror. kujan's
face is red, his body trembles. his locomotive breathing is
the only sound in the room.
i don't understand what you're saying. i
saw keaton get shot, i swear to you.
then why didn't you help him?
i was afraid, okay? somehow, i was sure
it was keyser soze at that point. i
couldn't bring myself to raise my gun to
it was keyser soze, agent kujan. i mean
the devil himself. how do you shoot the
devil in the back?
verbal holds up a shaking, twisted hand.
what if you miss?
140 ext. barge - night - one week prior 140'
verbal is hiding in the tangle of girders and cables on the
keaton's body is completely obscured.
the man in a suit strides across the deck over to keaton,
stopping to relieve himself on a small fire on the deck.
he walks up and stands over keaton. the two men exchange
words and the man in the suit pulls out a pistol. he points
it at keaton.
red and blue lights flash behind verbal
verbal turns. he can just make out police cars coming in the
verbal hears a shot from the deck of the boat. he turns in
time to see the man in the suit running across the deck
toward the gangway.
verbal can barely see the man from where he is now. the man
in the suit is covered by shadows and the poor angle from the
barge. verbal strains to see but he cannot.
the man in the suit stops long enough to pull out a lighter.
he turns and walks back across the deck and out of sight.
a moment later flames leap up from on the deck.
the mesh of steel and rubber leaves a dark and open cocoon at
move into the darkness.
sirens are close now. almost here. the sound of fire raging
out of control.
sirens blaring. tires squealing. car doors opening. feet
pounding the pavement.
move further, slower, into the darkness.
voices yelling. new light flickering in the surrounding
141 int. rabin's office - day - present 141
arturo marquez. ever hear of him?
he was a stool pigeon for the justice
department. he swore out a statement to
federal marshals that he had seen and
could positively identify one keyser soze
and had intimate knowledge of his
business, including, but not exclusive
to, drug trafficking and murder.
i never heard of him.
his own people were selling him to a gang
of hungarians. most likely the same
hungarians that sate all but wiped out
back in turkey. the money wasn't there
for dope. the hungarians were going to
buy the one guy that could finger soze
i said i never heard of him.
but keaton had. edie finneran was his
extradition advisor. she knew who he was
and what he knew.
there were no drugs on that boat. it was
a hit. a suicide mission to whack out the
one man that could finger keyser soze so
sate had a few thieves put to it. men he
knew he could march into certain death.
but how - wait. you're saying soze sent t
us to kill someone?
i'm saying keaton did.
verbal cannot grasp this. he squints, trying to understand.
verbal, he left you behind for a reason.
if you all knew soze could find you
anywhere, why was he ready to send you
off with the money when he could have
used you to take the boat?
he wanted me to live.
why did he want you to live? a one-time
dirty cop without a loyalty in the world
finds it in his heart to save a worthless
rat-cripple? no, sir. why'
i don't buy that reform story for a
minute. and even if i did, i certainly
don't believe he would send you to
protect her. so why?
because he was my friend.
no, verbal. you weren't friends. keaton
didn't have friends. he saved you because
he wanted it that way. it was his will.
verbal grinds to a mental halt, trying to grasp the
keaton was keyser soze
script date 5/25/94
the kind of guy who could wrangle the
wills of men like hockney and mcmanus.
the kind of man who could engineer a
police line-up from all his years of
contacts in n.y.p.d.
verbal stands on wobbly legs, shaking with anger.
no, no, no, no, no.
the kind of man that could have killed
a strange look crosses verbal's face. shock perhaps, or
they found her yesterday in a hotel in
pennsylvania. shot twice in the head.
it starts to sink in with verbal. his eyes swell.
he used all of you to get him on that
boat. he couldn't get on alone and he had
to pull the trigger himself to make sure
he got his man. the one man that could
this is all bullshit.
he left you to stay behind and tell us he
was dead. you saw him die, right? or did
you? you had to hide when the first
police cars showed up. you heard the
shot, just before the fire but you didn't
see him die.
i knew him. he would never -
he programmed you to tell us just what he
wanted you to. customs has been
script date 5/25/94
investigating him for years. he knew we
were close. you said it yourself. where
is the political pressure coming from?
why are you being protected? it's keaton
making sure you tell us what you're
supposed to. immunity is your reward.
but why me? why not hockney or fenster or
mcmanus? i'm a cripple. i'm stupid. why
verbal hears the weight of his words and falls back in his
chair, kujan looks at him with some pity,; but he is too far
in to stop.
because you're a cripple, verbal. because
you're stupid. because you were weaker
than them. because you couldn't see far
enough into him to know the truth.
verbal is crying now. he shakes his head, eyes closed.
if he's dead, verbal - if what you say is
true, then it won't matter. it was his
idea to hit the taxi service in new york,
wasn't it? tell me the truth.
it was all keaton. we followed him from
kujan smiles with triumphant satisfaction.
i didn't know. i saw him die. i believe
he's dead. christ
why lie about everything else, then?
you know what it's like, agent kujan, to
know you'll never be good? not good like
you. you got good all fucked around. i
mean a stand up guy. i grew up knowing i
was never going to be good at anything
'cause i was a cripple. shit, i wasn't
even a good thief. but i thought the one
thing i could be good at was a keeping my
mouth shut - keeping the code. i didn't
want to tell you for my dignity, that's
all, and you robbed me, agent kujan. you
kujan pulls the microphone out from under his tie and puts it +
on the desk. verbal actually manages to snort a laugh, but
only briefly, overcome by an apparent wave of nausea.
you're not safe on your own.
you think he's..?
is he keyser soze i don't know, verbal.
it seems to me that keyser sate is a
shield. like you said, a spook story, but
i know keaton - and someone out there is
pulling strings for you. stay here and
let us protect you.
i'm not bait. no way. i post today.
you posted twenty minutes ago. captain
leo wants you out of here a.s.a.p.,
unless you turn state's.
i'11 take my chances, thank you. it's
tougher to buy the cheapest bag-man than
it is to buy a cop.
where are you going to go, verbal? you
gonna run? turn states evidence. you
might never see trial. if somebody wants
to get you, you know they'll get you out
maybe so, but i'm no rat, agent kujan.
you tricked me, that's all. i won't keep
my mouth shut 'cause i'm scared. i'11
keep it shut 'cause i let keaton down by
getting caught - edie finneran too. and
if they kill me, it's
because they'll hear i dropped dime.
they'll probably hear it from you.
verbal stands, mustering his shattered dignity and walks
towards the door. rabin opens it for him from outside.
for once kujan cannot bring himself to look at verbal.
verbal turns to the door, stopping to look rabin in the eye.
he steps out of the room and into the hall. rabin follows
142 int. hospital - day 142
daniel metzheiser comes out of arkosh kovash's room with a
single sheet of 15x20 inch paper in his hand. he inspects the
sketch with great interest. he folds the edges of the paper
back to make it smaller.
143 int. hospital reception room 143
metzheiser walks behind the reception desk without asking the
nurse for permission and helps himself to the fax machine.
144 int. depot - later 144
verbal is downstairs in the depot of the police station
picking up his personal belongings.
a fat, white-haired cop is checking off the items as he takes
them out of the tray in which they are kept.
one watch: gold. one cigarette lighter:
gold. one wallet: brown. one pack of
verbal collects his personal items and shuffles on his lame
leg toward the exit.
145 int. dispatcher's office 145
jack baer stands by a fax machine. a green light comes on
next to a digital display.
the display reads: receiving
146 int. rabin's office 146
kujan stares solemnly at the bulletin board, drinking from
rabin's coffee cup. rabin sits at the desk, sifting through
the mound of gapers as though considering organizing them
once and for all.
you still don't know shit.
i know what i wanted to know about
which is shit.
no matter. he'll have to know how close
keyser sate or not, if keaton's alive
he'll never come up again.
i'11 find him.
waste of time.
a rumor is not a rumor that doesn't die.
nothing. something i - forget it.
kujan shakes his head. he gestures to the desk.
man, you're a fucking slob.
rabin regards the mess of his office.
yeah. it's got it's own system though. it
all makes sense when you look at it
right. you just have to step back from
it, you know? you should see my garage,
now that's a horror show...
kujan is not listening. he has been staring at the bulletin
board, lost in thought, his unfocused eyes drifting across
the mess of papers, not looking at anything at all.
147 ext. street 147
verbal steps out into the sunlight, putting on a pair of
cheap sunglasses. he looks up and down the crowded street.
people on their way to and from lunch, no doubt.
cars choke the street in front of the police department as
they wait for pedestrians to clear the way.
148 int. dispatcher's office - 148
a single sheet of paper comes out of the fax machine, face
149 int. rabin's office 149
kujan still stares at the bulletin board.
suddenly, kujan's face changes. he leans in closer to the
bulletin board and squints his eyes. his face changes again.
first a look of puzzlement, then confusion - finally
the coffee cup tumbles from his hand. it hits the floor with
the smash of cheap porcelain. coffee splatters everywhere.
rabin snaps out of his droning and looks up in surprise.
kujan is staring not at what is on the bulletin board, but at
the bulletin board itself.
his eyes follow the aluminum frame, mounted firmly to the
wall. one might note it's sturdy construction and it's
convenient size. big enough to hold a lifetime of forgotten
and disregarded notes and facts. years of police trivia that
has been hung and forgotten with the intention of finding a
use for it all someday. one might want such a bulletin board
for one's self. one would look to see who makes such a
kujan's eyes are locked on a metal plate bearing the
it reads: quartet - skokie, illinois
kujan's eyes flash all' over the bulletin board. he finds a
picture of rabin in the far corner. he stands beside a scale
in fishing gear. he proudly holds a hand out to his freshly
caught marlin. his eyes skim quickly over and stop on an
eight and a half by eleven inch fax sheet of what must be a
three hundred pound black man. kujan glazes over his name, it
is irrelevant. his aliases stand out.
slavin, bricks, shank, redfoot, thee, rooster...
kujan's eyes widen with sudden realization. he runs for the
his foot crushes the broken pieces of rabin's coffee cup. the
cup that hovered over verbal's head for two hours.
kujan is in too much of a hurry to notice the two words
printed on the jagged piece that had been the bottom of the
150 ext. hallway 150
kujan is sprinting wildly down the hall for the stairs.
151 ext. street 151
verbal looks behind him and sees another cop standing just
inside the doorway, lighting a cigarette. the cop notices
verbal and watches him in the way that cops look at people
they cannot place in the category of idiot citizen, or stupid
verbal smiles politely, meekly at the cop and walks down the
steps into the moving throng.
152 int. depot 152
kujan runs up to the desk where verbal had only moments
before picked up his belongings. rabin is right behind him, a
look of absolute confusion on his face.
where is he? did you see him? t
the cripple? he went that way.
the cog gestures towards the door.
kujan runs outside looking around frantically.
153 scene deleted 153'
154 ext. sidewalk 154
verbal limps his way carefully across the sidewalk, avoiding
people as best as he can.
he looks over his shoulder, getting farther away from the
police station. he can see rabin and the cop on the steps,
looking around with strange, lost expressions on their faces.
he does not notice the car creeping along the curb beside
155 int. car 155
the driver's hands tap the wheel patiently. his eyes follow
verbal as he fumbles through the crowd.
156 ext. sidewalk 156
kujan pushes and shoves, looking this way and that.
157 ext. street 157
low angle on the feet of dozens of people.
verbal's feet emerge from the crowd on the far side. they
hobble along the curb.
suddenly, the right foot seems to relax a little, the inward
angle straightens itself out in a few paces and the limp
ceases as though the leg has grown another inch.
crane up verbal's body
verbal's hands are rummaging around in his pockets. the good
left hand comes up with a pack of cigarettes, the bad right
hand comes up with a lighter. the right hand flexes with all
of the grace and coordination of a sculptor's, flicking the
clasp on the antique lighter with the thumb, striking the
flint with the index finger. it is a fluid motion, somewhat
verbal lights a cigarette and smiles to himself. he turns and
sees the car running alongside.
158 int. dispatcher's office 158
jack beer pulls the sheet out of the fax machine and turns it
over, revealing the composite sketch of keyser soze.
though crude and distorted, one cannot help but notice how
much it leaks like verbal kint.
159 ext. street 159
the car stops. the driver gets out.
it is kobayashi, or the man we have come to know as such. he
smiles to verbal. verbal steps off of the curb, returning the
smile as he opens the passenger door and gets in.
the man called kobayashi gets in the driver's seat and pulls
a moment later, agent david kujan of u.s. customs wanders
into the frame, looking around much in the way a child would
when lost at the circus. he takes no notice of the car
pulling out into traffic, blending in with the rest of the
cars filled with people on their way back to work.