EPILOGUE
September 23, 1986
Author’s Note: This is a standard-length script for a one-hour episode of Hardcastle and McCormick, following the format of the original 1983-1986 versions. Because it is intended for readers, rather than a director and actors, some conventions were dispensed with, including the cast and set lists. I’ve also injected more than the usual number of parenthetical directions—surely the bane of skilled actors everywhere (because there are no actors to annoy here), and I used a minimum of camera angles.
FADE IN:
EXT: THE LAW SCHOOL—DAY
Students in singles, pairs, and groups, heading up the steps.
ANGLE—THE TRUCK, PULLING UP TO THE CURB
INT. THE TRUCK—DAY
Hardcastle is behind the wheel. McCormick is in the passenger seat. His bruises have gotten to that nicely-matured stage but he’s neat and tidy.
McCORMICK
I coulda gotten a lift from somebody till the Coyote’s back from the shop.
HARDCASTLE
It’s not like I was doing anything. I’m retired, remember?
(drops his chin, stares out through the
windshield for a moment)
HARDCASTLE’S POV—PORTMAN
She’s strolling toward the building, clutching her binder to her chest, shoulder bag in place, looking down as she walks, the picture of preoccupation.
RESUME SCENE
HARDCASTLE
(nods toward what he’s seen, but looks at McCormick)
She seemed okay when you took her home last night?
McCORMICK
Yeah, pretty okay—for somebody who found out she had a sister, and lost her in the same day.
(beat)
Not to mention the part where she got kidnapped at gunpoint.
(gives Hardcastle a pointed look)
HARDCASTLE
Well, that kinda stuff happens.
(beat, and then an attempt to redirect)
Hey, did I tell you D’Sousa couldn’t wait to talk to the D.A. about Haller and Kayts? Looks like the charges will be murder one and aggravated sexual assault, plus yesterday’s kidnapping and battery.
(beat—he’s looking in Portman’s direction again)
Tell her she did okay.
McCormick gives him a nod, opens the door, and steps out.
McCORMICK
(closing the door and speaking through the open window)
Three sharp, okay? Don’t get to talking with Frank and lose track.
Hardcastle nods back and the truck starts to roll forward.
ANGLE—FROM BEHIND McCORMICK TOWARD THE SIDE OF THE TRUCK
It pulls away and we see Portman, across the street, approaching the steps. She’s still a few yards away when she encounters a student, ALBERT HOLCOMBE, in her path, almost bumping into him. She pulls up short and lifts her head, startled. HOLCOMBE is shorter than average, though slightly taller than her, and he’s wearing thick, dark-rimmed glasses. There’s an impression that he’ll make a fine tax lawyer someday, but never be featured in the annual “L.A.’s Most Eligible Bachelors” list. He’s leaning in to say something to Portman. She leans away. McCormick hastens across the street but isn’t quite there yet as we hear:
PORTMAN
(indignant)
You thought we could what?
HOLCOMBE
(clearly taken aback that his advance is being rejected)
I…ah …
PORTMAN
(tugging at something in her shoulder bag)
You wouldn’t, by any chance be the guy who sent me this?
She unfurls what’s in her hand with a sharp flick of her wrist. It’s the note, not the accompanying illustrative material, but from HOLCOMBE’S hard swallow and nervous step back, it’s clear he’s the guy responsible.
PORTMAN
(not trying to lower her voice and now the situation is attracting stares from others)
Listen to me, Albert, if I get any more “mail” from you, or anything I even think is from you, I’m going to take it, and what you’ve already sent, and the whole story, to the dean of student affairs.
(beat—then distinctly cooler)
You’re familiar with the concept of harassment?
(cooler still—subzero—giving him an eye up and down and not liking what she sees)
I’m sure you are.
She’s still staring him down, while Holcombe flusters and tries to distance himself, as McCormick finally steps in a little closer, just close enough to make it apparent that he’s on Portman’s team.
ANGLE—HOLCOMBE
He sees McCormick, and gathers up what’s left of his dignity.
HOLCOMBE
(to Portman, suddenly thinking he understands everything now)
So you’re with him, huh?
Portman breaks off giving him that dangerous look, as if she’s decided he’s not worth the bother. There’s a quick shake of her head (disgust, not denial) as she turns from Holcombe. It says more than words could.
ANGLE—HOLCOMBE
The camera stays on Holcombe (looking as if he doesn’t quite understand how he got cut off at the knees) while Portman and McCormick walk away and everyone, excepting Holcombe, resumes the normal flow of activity.
CUT TO:
EXT. ON THE STEPS OF THE SCHOOL—DAY
Porter and McCormick are off to the side as students mount the steps and stream into the building.
McCORMICK
You okay?
PORTMAN
(laughs)
I can’t believe that was what was worrying me yesterday morning.
McCORMICK
(lifts his head, looks out toward the sidewalk, then back at Portman)
Yeah, kind of a weasel.
(beat)
So, he didn’t want money, just…
PORTMAN
A “date”?
(a beat and a grin)
Yeah, but it was still sure-as-hell blackmail.
(pauses again, looking older and wiser, and then)
Nothing like a dose of the harsher realities to put your troubles in perspective, huh?
McCormick give this a moment’s thought and then nods.
McCORMICK
One other thing, though.
Portman raises an eyebrow in question.
McCORMICK
I think you’ve just been relegated to the pariahs. That whole “You’re with him” thing—you didn’t deny it.
PORTMAN
Why should I?
(she smiles serenely)
ANGLE—PULL BACK
The steps have cleared now, everyone has gone inside except Portman and McCormick. He grins and shakes his head, then turns toward the door and opens it, allowing her to pass inside then stepping in after her. The door closes.
Hold on that, and,
FADE TO BLACK
NEXT, ON HARDCASTLE and McCORMICK
Virtual Season 4:
“Gunther's Inn and Rathskellar, just beyond the pass. Supposed to have good, solid food and plenty of it. Rustic atmosphere, and they guarantee snow at Christmas or you get ten percent off your bill. How 'bout that?”
* * * * *
Mark made room for the petite blonde by standing and rearranging a chair so that it faced the roaring blaze directly. “Hi, there,” he answered, holding out a hand to George after Dorothy was seated. “Still coming down out there, I guess, from the look of things.”
George turned and shook the judge's hand, also. “Yep, harder than ever. We were hoping to get to Sacramento tonight, but the weather report isn't real great for the next couple of days. And tomorrow's Christmas Eve, so you know what traffic will be like.”
* * * * *
“Oh, George,” her head drooped and she sighed deeply, “it's no use. Something always happens. That man is a judge. Suppose he finds out…?”
George shook his head fiercely. “He won't. He can't. No one knows but us. Your parents won't even get your note for another twenty-four house, so they can't set the law on our trail. Just hang on until the snow stops and we can get over the state line. Dot,” he let go of her hand to reach out and cup her chin tenderly, “Dot, don't give up on me, on us when we're this close.”
* * * * *
Hardcastle was now warmly clad and reaching for the doorknob. Yanking the door open, he stepped out into the dimly-lit hall, one oil lamp keeping the darkness at bay. He looked up and down the hallway then, seeing nothing uncalled for, strode three steps toward the head of the staircase. There, lying in the partly-open door of room 2 was Professor Hawthorne. She was wearing a sensible, cozy-looking flannel nightgown and bleeding profusely from the side of her head.
* * * * *
McCormick slogged through the snow as fast as he could and found a dimly-lit shed that contained another snowmobile. Quickly, he checked the controls, then hopped aboard and started the engine. Finding the headlight switch, he flicked it on and the chase began.
Visibility was almost nil, but Mark followed the faint tracks left in the snow and the sound of the snowmobile engine. It seemed to be getting a little louder, so he cautiously upped his speed, swiping the snow out of his eyes frequently.
The wind howled and, if anything, the snowfall seemed to be even heavier than before. The snowmobile tracks led over small rises and through narrow dips. Pine trees surrounded the trail, occasionally dropping loads of snow with loud thumps. There was no sign of life, no animals or birds.
Next Monday, at 9 Eastern/8 Central