Scripts: Rear Window (final draft, 01/Dec/1953) - part 6
INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Lisa, still stretched out on the divan looking at Jeff, suddenly sits upright and then getting up from the divan, mover over to Jeff, THE CAMERA GOING WITH her. In a sudden surprise move, she swings his chair completely around so that his back is to the window. He drops the binoculars into his lap in surprise. THE CAMERA MOVES IN as Lisa leans over Jeff, gripping both sides of his chair LISA (sharply) Jeff -- if you could only see yourself. JEFF Now, Lisa -- LISA (Abruptly) Sitting around, looking out a window to kill time, is one thing -- but doing it the way you are -- (She gestures) -- with, with binoculars, and with wild opinions about every little movement you see -- is, is diseased! JEFF Do you think I consider this recreation? LISA I don't know what you consider it -- but if you don't stop it, I'm getting out of here. JEFF You'd better before you catch the disease! LISA (Insistent) What is it you're looking for? JEFF I want to find out what's wrong with the salesman's wife. Does that make me sound like a madman? LISA What makes you think something's wrong with her? LISA A lot of things. She's an invalid who needs constant care -- and yet the husband nor anyone else has been in there all day. LISA Maybe she died. JEFF Where's the doctor -- the undertakers? LISA She could be under sedatives, sleeping. (Looks up) He's in the room now. Jeff tries to turn around, but she won't let the chair move. JEFF Lisa, please! LISA There's nothing to see. JEFF There is -- I've seen things through that window! Bickering, family fights, mysterious trips at night, knives, saws, rope -- and since last evening, not a sight or sound of his wife! Now you tell me where she is and what she's doing! LISA Maybe he's leaving his wife. I don't know, and I don't care. Lots of people have saws, knives and ropes around their houses. Lots of men don't speak to their wives all day. Lots of wives nag, and men hate them, and trouble starts -- but very, very, very few of them end up in murder -- if that's what you're thinking. JEFF It's pretty hard to stay away from that word isn't is? LISA You could see all the things he did, couldn't you? JEFF What are you getting at? LISA You could see that he did because he had the shades in his apartment up, and walked along the corridor, and the streets and the backyard? JEFF Yeah. LISA Jeff, do you think a murderer would let you see all that? That he shouldn't keep his shades down and hide behind them? JEFF That's where he's being clever. Acting nonchalant. LISA And that's where you're not being clever. He wouldn't parade his crime in front of the open shades. She turns the wheelchair slightly to her left so that he can see the newlyweds' apartment. LISA (Pointing) For all you know -- there's something a lot more sinister going on behind those shades. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT The drawn shades of the newlyweds' apartment. A dim light burning behind them. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff looks, turns back to her, trying to suppress a chuckle. JEFF No comment. LISA Don't you see how silly you're being? JEFF Okay, Lisa -- probably you're right. He's probably in the bedroom now, entertaining his wife with the indian rope trick. I'll admit to criminal insanity. Now when do I start the cure? Lisa half looks up and out the window. She opens her mouth to answer, but a new look overtakes her face. It is concern, surprise, and a little shock. Jeff sees the change, is sobered, and quickly turns the chair around. He looks out the window, using his binoculars. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - SEMI-LONG SHOT The shades in the bedroom are now up. Both beds are empty, and stripped of their linen, the mattresses thrown up over the end of the beds. The salesman, sweating heavily, stands over a large, square trunk in the center of the room. It is stoutly bound by the heavy rope we previously saw him bring into the apartment. He wipes one forearm across his brow, and then heads for the kitchen. In the kitchen, he produces a bottle, pours himself two or three straight drinks, then leans with a display of exhaustion against the kitchen sink. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff lowers the glasses. His look is sober. Lisa stands behind him, one hand on the back of the wheelchair. She, too, is serious. THE CAMERA MOVES IN until Lisa's head fills the screen. She says, slowly: LISA Let's start from the beginning again, Jeff. Tell me everything you saw -- and what you think it means. She is still staring out the window, as the scene FADES OUT: FADE IN: INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff is seated in the dark, his face lit by the faint glow from the distant street. He is looking out of the window tensely, as THE CAMERA MOVES IN, until he is in big profile. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT From Jeff's viewpoint, all the windows are dark. The couple are sleeping on the fire escape. The salesman's apartment is dark as well. Suddenly a match flares, and we see the salesman light a cigar. The flame of the match illuminates his face for a moment. When is dies out, we see just the glow of the cigar burning. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - SEMI-CLOSEUP The CAMERA is now facing Jeff. We see that his left hand rests on the telephone receiver which is close to him. The phone starts to RING, but makes only the slightest sound, as he instantly picks it up. As he talks, in a low voice, he keeps his eyes on the salesman's apartment. JEFF Yeah? INT. PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT - CLOSEUP We get an impression of Sixth Avenue behind Lisa at the phone. Lisa also talks in a low, quiet voice. LISA The name on the second floor rear mailbox reads Mr. And Mrs. Lars, that's L-A-R-S, Lars Thorwald. JEFF (Filter) What's the apartment house number? LISA 125 West Ninth Street. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff, still looks toward the salesman's apartment. JEFF Thanks, Lisa. INT. PHONE BOOTH - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Lisa smilingly says: LISA Okay, chief. What's my next assignment. JEFF To get on home. LISA All right -- but what's he doing now? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - CLOSEUP Jeff is still looking toward the salesman's apartment. JEFF Just sitting in the living room. In the dark. And he hasn't gone near the bedroom. Now get some sleep. Goodnight. He puts the receiver down, and resumes his vigil. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT - LONG SHOT All we can see is the glow of the salesman's cigar. FADE OUT: FADE IN: INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT Jeff is seated by the window in his wheelchair. He is talking on the telephone while his eyes are still on the neighborhood. There is a touch of urgency in his voice. JEFF Look, Doyle -- it's just one of those things I can't tell you on the phone. You have to be here, and see the whole set-up. The CAMERA PULLS BACK slightly as Stella emerges from the kitchen. She is carrying a tray with breakfast on it. Eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. JEFF It's probably nothing important -- just a little neighborhood murder, that's all. As a matter of fact, I did say "murder". Stella squeezes past the right side of Jeff, and places the food tray on a windowseat in front of him. She peers out cautiously toward Thorwald's apartment for a moment. Then she squeezes back, moving to the sideboard against which leans a small table on an adjustable stand. JEFF My only thought was to throw a little business your way. A good detective, I reasoned, would jump at the chance to detect. Stella returns with the table, and sets it up so that it is across Jeff's lap. She gets the tray of food pausing to look toward Thorwald's apartment. Then she places the breakfast on the tray table in front of Jeff. He has moved back a little to avoid getting the phone cable tangled in the food and dishes. JEFF Well, I usually took my best pictures on my day off. (nods) Okay, Doyle -- soon as you can. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP He hangs up. Stella takes the phone and puts it down for him. He looks at the breakfast, reaches for a knife and fork. JEFF Stella, I -- I can't tell you what a welcome sight this is. No wonder your husband's still in love with you. STELLA Police? JEFF (Pauses in cutting food) Huh? STELLA You called the police? JEFF Oh. Well, yes and no. It wasn't an official call. He's just a friend. (Almost to himself) An old, ornery friend. He begins eating, appreciatively. She moves behind his chair, pausing to look toward Thorwald's apartment again. Jeff is just lifting a piece of bacon to his lips when Stella speaks. STELLA (Half to herself) Now just where do you suppose he cut her up? The hand carrying the bacon to Jeff's mouth hesitates for a moment. STELLA (Answering herself) Oh -- of course! In the bathtub. That's the only place he could wash away the blood. The hand holding the bacon moves back to the plate. Jeff just stares ahead. Stella turns and walks into the kitchen. Jeff pushes the food away, and picks up the coffee cup instead. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes, over the coffee cup, are staring intently at the backyard. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT Thorwald's apartment. The shades up. No one moving. The rope-tied trunk still sits in the bedroom. To the left we see the basket lowering with the dog in it. We HEAR the woman WHISTLING an aria. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP His eyes stray in an upward direction as he puts down the coffee cup. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT The CAMERA PANS UP past the woman lowering the dog, up to the roof where one of the sunbathers can be seen sitting up, rubbing her body with sun tan oil. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff's eyes moves down again. Abstractedly his hand strays toward the piece of bacon. He picks it up. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT Thorwald's apartment. We are now aware that the salesman is now in his living room, lying out of sight on the sofa, because the smoke from a newly lighted cigar is starting to ascend toward the ceiling of his room. Stella's voice is heard calling out from the kitchen: STELLA'S VOICE He'd better get that trunk out of there before is starts to leak. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Again the bacon stops before is reaches Jeff's mouth. He puts it down on the plate again, as his eyes move slightly toward the left. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT Miss Torso, in ballet outfit, is hanging up a small wash on a clothes line. It consists mostly of lingerie. She is doing her inevitable leg practice at the same time. THE CAMERA PANS OVER SUDDENLY TO Thorwald's apartment, and except for the smoke rising from the unseen sofa, there is no activity. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff seems to be getting a bit listless, or bored, by constantly watching Thorwald's apartment. His eyes sort of stray around the neighborhood, and end up looking toward: EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT The newlywed's apartment. Shade down, business as usual. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff smiles affectionately, and starts to turn his eyes away; but something startles him, and he looks quickly back. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - MEDIUM SHOT The shade suddenly going up in the newlywed's apartment. The young husband leans his hands on the windowsill, and looks out. He is wearing only his pajama bottoms, because of the heat, and we see that he is a well-muscled, attractive young man. He looks around with some satisfaction. He turns at the sound of a woman's voice behind him. GIRL'S VOICE H-a-a-r-r-e-e... He turns his head, is thoughtful for a brief moment, then he pulls down the shade. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP His smile almost becomes a private chuckle. Stella's abrupt voice breaks in urgently: STELLA'S VOICE Look! Look -- Mr. Jefferies! Jeff's head snaps toward the center of his window. Stella has appeared behind his wheelchair. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT Two men wearing tan coveralls are standing outside Thorwald's door. One of them carries a clipboard. Suddenly Thorwald is seen sitting up on the living room sofa. His hair is disheveled and he is unshaved. He stands up, and moves toward the door. He opens it, and after a short exchange of dialogue, he admits the two men, leaving the door open behind them. He leads the two man across the living room to the bedroom. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Stella and Jeff watching intently. He is feeling down alongside his wheelchair for his binoculars. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT A close view shows the two man carrying the trunk across the living room toward the corridor. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff lowers the binoculars quickly. JEFF (Agitated) I thought Doyle would get here before the trunk went -- or I'd have called the police. (To Stella) Now we're going to lose it. Stella moves toward the door quickly. Jeff turns quickly over his shoulder to watch her. She is already going up the steps. JEFF Stella, don't do anything reckless! As Stella goes out the door, she calls back: STELLA I'm just going to get the name of their truck! JEFF (Up) I'll watch the alleyway -- in case it goes that way. We hear nothing from Stella, but the sound of her heavy tread down the hallway stairs. Jeff returns to Thorwald. He eases himself back into the shadows a bit and then raises his binoculars. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT Jeff concentrates his attention on the alley-way that leads to the street. Just normal traffic. The binoculars swing to Thorwald apartment. The salesman is now at the telephone. He has picked up the receiver, and proceeds to dial 221. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP The binoculars still up to Jeff's face. Under them his mouth moves, as if he's talking to himself. JEFF Long Distance. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT The salesman speaks some words to the operator. Placing the call. As he does this, he reaches with his other hand for a nearly bottle, and working the cork out with one hand, he pours a stiff drink into a tumbler. He drinks it as soon as he finishes talking with the operator. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff lowers the binoculars a little, and takes a normal eye sight on the alleyway. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT Pulling across to the far side of the street we see the hood and cab of a freight truck. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff quickly puts the glasses up. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - BINOCULAR SHOT By the time the binoculars are up, another truck has crossed from the left. In momentarily blocks out the side of our freight truck. By the time the two trucks part, we can only see the back half of the freight truck before it pulls out of sight. Jeff is only able to read the words "FREIGHT LINES". The binoculars are held for a moment until we see a puffing and blowing Stella arrive at the opening of the alleyway. She looks toward the front of Thorwald's apartment house. And by her attitude we can see that there is no truck outside. She looks about her for a moment. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - CLOSEUP Jeff lowers the binoculars, discouraged. EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY - LONG SHOT The figure of Stella is seen, looking up toward Jeff's apartment, and arms outspread in a helpless gesture. LAP DISSOLVE TO: INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT SHOOTING TOWARDS the big window, with the neighborhood beyond, Jeff is as usual seated in his wheelchair on the left of the window, but now turned toward a newcomer. The second man is standing near the divan looking out the window with the binoculars. This newcomer is POLICE DETECTIVE LIEUTENANT THOMAS J. DOYLE, the man Jeff phoned earlier in the day. He is an intelligent-appearing, well-dressed modern detective. He has a sense of humor. He lowers the glasses, and turns to Jeff. DOYLE You didn't see the killing, or the body? How do you know there was a murder? JEFF Because everything that man's done has been suspicious. Trips at night in the rain, saws, knives, trunks with rope, and a wife that isn't there any more. DOYLE I'll admit it all has a mysterious sound -- but is could mean a number of different things. Murder is the least likely. JEFF Go ahead, Doyle -- tell me he's an unemployed magician -- amusing the neighborhood with sleight-of-hand. Doyle paces a little. DOYLE It's too stupid and obvious a way to murder -- in full view of fifty windows -- and then sit over there -- (He points) -- smoking a cigar -- waiting for the police to pick him up. JEFF Well, officer -- do your duty. DOYLE You've got a lot to lean about homicide, Jeff. Morons have committed murder so shrewdly that it took a hundred trained police minds to catch them. That salesman wouldn't just knock off his wife after dinner, toss her in a trunk and put her in storage. JEFF I'll bet it's been done. DOYLE Almost everything's been done -- under panic. But this is a thousand to one shot. That man's still sitting around his apartment; he isn't panicked. JEFF (A pause) You think I made all this up? DOYLE I think you saw something -- that probably has a very simple explanation. JEFF For instance? DOYLE (Shrugs) His wife took a trip. JEFF She -- was -- an -- invalid! DOYLE You told me. (Looks at watch) I've got to run, Jeff. JEFF All right -- you don't believe me. Doyle saunters toward steps, picking up his hat on the way. Stops. DOYLE I -- uh -- won't report it to the Department. Let me poke into a little on my own. No point in you getting any ridiculous publicity. JEFF (Coldly) Thanks. DOYLE We know the wife is gone. I'll see if I can find out where. JEFF Do that. He goes up the steps to the door, putting on his hat. He pauses his hand on the door knob. DOYLE You have any headaches lately? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff answers, showing only the slightest irritation. JEFF Not 'til you showed up. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Doyle, still at the door: DOYLE Uh-huh. Well, it'll wear off in time -- along with the hallucinations. See you around. He starts to go out the door, and closes it behind him. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-LONG SHOT From Doyle's viewpoint. Jeff lifts his hand in a feeble parting gesture. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Before the door has completely closed, Doyle opens it again, and looks in. DOYLE By the way what happened to your leg? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP JEFF I was jaywalking. DOYLE'S VOICE (O.S.) Where? JEFF (With nonchalance) The Indianapolis Speedway. INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP The door starts to close again, as if Doyle considered Jeff's answer quite reasonable. Then the door pops open and Doyle's head comes in, a surprised expression across his face. DOYLE During the race? INT. JEFF'S APARTMENT - DAY - SEMI-CLOSEUP Jeff answers with a straight face. JEFF Yup. It sure stopped traffic. We don't see Doyle again, but only HEAR the sharp slam of the DOOR off. Jeff chuckles. Then he turns back to the window.
...continue to part 7