ACT III

FADE IN:

EXT. THE McCRAY HOUSE—DAY

McCORMICK (V.O.)

I let you go off on your own and look what happens.

INT. THE MCRAY KITCHEN—DAY

Hardcastle and McCormick are sitting at the kitchen table in mid-conversation. McCormick looks irritated.

HARDCASTLE

(an air of innocent indignation)

All I did was take the scenic route.

McCORMICK

And you admit the whole thing is a stretch—if something did happen to her grandmother, that would mean the sheriff and the doc were in on it, at least; maybe more.

HARDCASTLE

Not necessarily. We’ve really only have Springer’s word for nearly everything.

McCORMICK

You think the Doc did it? What for?

HARDCASTLE

(shakes his head)

Nah, I’m just saying he might be making some wrong assumptions. If Erma had some help getting to death’s door, it could have been from anyone. A poisoning, just something to make her dizzy—a fall down the stairs like that, what could be easier?

(beat)

‘Course it might be the doc. He was the one who sent Kitty off to the loony bin. That could’ve just been an excuse to get her out of the way.

McCRAY (V.O.)

Get who out of the way?

ANGLE—TOWARD THE BACK DOOR OF THE KITCHEN

McCRAY is standing in the doorway. She’s clutching her handkerchief in her right hand, neither blood nor cut is showing. She glances at McCormick and ventures a questioning smile.

HARDCASTLE

This is a friend of mine, Mark McCormick.

McCORMICK

We’ve met, sort of.

(to McCray)

Who was the guy giving you the hard time this morning?

Hardcastle looks startled, then shoots a glance at McCray. She’s misplaced her smile as she edges into the kitchen but doesn’t take a seat.

McCRAY

That’s Lester. Lester Kooms.

(she frowns)

He’s always been kinda mean. He’s just like that.

HARDCASTLE

(to McCormick)

How hard a time?

McCORMICK

(to Hardcastle, without taking his eyes off McCray)

Didn’t have a chance to find out how far he’d go.

McCRAY

(sighing impatiently)

That was him last night, I’m pretty sure. Stupid boy stuff.

HARDCASTLE

Pranks? Do you think he might’ve done something to hurt your grandmother? A prank that went wrong? Would she have covered for him? Doc Springer said it all started with a fall down the stairs.

McCRAY

That’s what he says; him and the sheriff.

(looks doubtful)

And grams didn’t like bullies. She didn’t like Lester. If he’d hurt he, she wouldn’t have lied for him.

(a long beat, and then to Hardcastle)

You believe me?

HARDCASTLE

(shakes his head hastily)

We’re a little light on facts right now. I can’t prove anything one way or another.

McCRAY

(looks satisfied)

You believe me—that something’s wrong.

(nods once sharply)

It’s a start.

She moves past them, toward a cabinet. She reaches up, opens it with her left hand, and takes a milk-glass vase down. She closes the cabinet door with the side of her right fist.

HARDCASTLE

We’ll need another room for tonight.

McCRAY

(there’s a near-smile now as she turns to the sink and puts the vase under the faucet)

No problem. I’ve got plenty of rooms. Hmm, top of the stairs, second door on the right, the one next to yours.

(as she lets the water run, she’s suddenly more thoughtful)

I suppose one of them might’ve paid Lester.

(turns the faucet off, cocks her head over her shoulder)

Not that he wouldn’t do it for free—be a bully, I mean. It’s his nature.

(she picks up the half-full vase and carries it carefully to the back door, then cast another look back at them)

Lester,

(cocks her head again)

I never thought of him as a killer.

HARDCASTLE

(protesting)

I didn’t say that.

It’s futile. She’s already through the doorway and gone. Hardcastle heaves a sigh and glances back at McCormick, who’s giving him an amused look.

HARDCASTLE

(crusty)

Whaddaya staring at?

McCORMICK

(smiles)

A desperate man, I think. Was the judges’ convention going to be that boring?

HARDCASTLE

Hmmph.

(beat)

I can’t help it if the darn radiator gave up the ghost.

McCORMICK

Yeah, but most people would just have a cup of coffee in the local diner and catch up on the back issues of Newsweek. You have to go all Justice League.

HARDCASTLE

(sniffs)

I got as far as the cup of coffee.

(short beat)

What happened this morning with that guy, Lester what’s-his-name?

McCORMICK

Kooms.

(frowns in recollection)

She was walking down the road. He must’ve been cruising by—

HARDCASTLE

Or following her.

McCORMICK

Objection, you’re leading the witness.

HARDCASTLE

Sorry…and then?

McCORMICK

He’d pulled up next to her, crowding her. I have no idea what he was saying. I was driving by, I pulled over and asked for directions.

HARDCASTLE

(puzzled)

That’s all?

McCORMICK

(smiles thinly)

It’s all in how you ask.

(beat)

Anyway, he climbed back in his van, turned around, and took off back toward town.

(pauses and thinks for a moment, then looks up again)

It was a paneled van. Late 70s, Chevy G-series, dark green with the name of a funeral parlor on the side.

HARDCASTLE

(looks suddenly a lot more interested)

“Lovell’s”?

McCORMICK

(has to think, finally nods)

Yeah, I think so. Why?

HARDCASTLE

Larcom, the sheriff, said they all pitched in for Erma McCray’s funeral, and Bill Lovell did it for cost.

McCORMICK

That’s, ah…nice. Must’ve liked her.

HARDCASTLE

Or they were in a hurry to get her in the ground.

McCormick gives him a wry look.

HARDCASTLE

I think I’ll go see the undertaker, maybe ask him about his hired help. Wanna come?

McCORMICK

(sighs wearily)

Nah, I’m the guy who drove all night to get here. First room on the right upstairs?

HARDCASTLE

Second.

McCORMICK

You go on and have a good time. There’s no stopping you anyway, once you get your hands on a can of worms.

HARDCASTLE

I’m just going to have a friendly chat with him.

McCORMICK

(smiles as he rises from the table)

Sure.

(beat)

Anyway, Lester deserves whatever happens to him.

McCormick is on his feet and not smiling as his walks past the table toward the hallway. Hardcastle remains seated, his expression equally uncheerful, despite what McCormick said about how much he enjoys stirring the pot. Hold on this and,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE FUNERAL HOME—DAY

The van is not in sight.

LOVELL (V.O.)

Lester’s always been a handful, but I’m sure he’d never hurt anyone.

INT. THE FRONT OFFICE - DAY

BILL LOVELL is sitting behind his desk, his hands templed in front of him on the old-fashioned green desk blotter. HARDCASTLE is sitting across from him in an armchair designed to make a client feel at home, though it doesn’t seem to be working in this instance.

HARDCASTLE

Has he always been hostile toward the McCrays?

LOVELL

(looks shocked)

‘Hostile’? Good Lord, I wouldn’t call it that. Anyway, he didn’t have anything against Erma, not that I know of, and Erma wasn’t one to keep quiet about a problem.

HARDCASTLE

So it’s just Kitty.

LOVELL

(mouth set a little tighter)

You’ve heard what she’s been saying about us—about the folks here. Most of us have tried to be understanding. She’s had a rough time. But it might be a few people don’t like being accused of murder.

HARDCASTLE

Like Lester.

Lovell says nothing.

HARDCASTLE

Don’t suppose you know where he is.

LOVELL

(glances toward the hallway then back at Hardcastle, shaking his head again)

He was here earlier, but I sent him down to the cemetery. We’ve got the mowing contract with the township. He’s probably still there.

HARDCASTLE

(as he starts to stand)

You might want to tell him something, for me: he ought to keep his distance from Ms. McCray.

LOVELL

(conciliatory)

He won’t bother her anymore, I’ll see to it.

Hardcastle grunts and steps toward the door. Lovell is on his feet, looking glad to be showing him out.

EXT. THE FUNERAL HOME—DAY

The door is open and Hardcastle has stepped through and is walking away, hands in pockets. He casts one last look back at the place, then ducks his chin and continues off.

ANGLE—

Closer in on Lovell, still standing in the doorway, staring at Hardcastle with a grim expression. Hold on that and then,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE CEMETARY—DAY

KITTY McCRAY approaches her grandmother’s grave, carrying the milk-glass vase. She stoops and places it next to the one she borrowed then starts to reach for the flowers she left. She halts in mid-movement, looking puzzled.

ANGLE—CLOSE UP

The borrowed vase is exactly where she left it, but we see the handle of a familiar pair of scissors protruding from it, along with the stems.

ANGLE—PULL BACK

McCray jerks back a little, and reflexively slaps her pocket, which is empty. Then, looking puzzled, she starts to pull the scissors out. As the blades clear the vase we see that the water dripping from them is tinged blood-red. McCray gasps in horror and lets go of them with a jerk. They fall back into the vase. The vase is knocked off-balance, the ghastly fluid splashing as it falls. McCray jumps up and back, then stares down in horror at the vase and its scattered contents.

Simultaneously with the cut we hear a scream.

SMASH CUT:

CLOSE UP—McCORMICK’S FACE

He’s horizontal, his eyes jerk open, but it’s only a second later that we hear what is apparently some continued pounding on a door.

LARCOM (V.O.)

(distant shout)

Hardcastle? Open up.

McCormick frowns.

ANGLE—PULL BACK

He’s in bed, under a quilt. The room is similar to the one Hardcastle is staying in. As we hear another bout of pounding, McCormick blinks, throws off the covers, and starts to sit up.

McCORMICK

(mutters)

What the hell.

LARCOM (V.O.)

Open up!

McCORMICK

(on his feet, pulling on his jeans)

I’m coming!

EXT. THE McCRAY FRONT PORCH—DAY

LARCOM is at the door, hands on hips, head cocked as though he’s listening. Just as he reaches to pound again, the door opens from within. It’s McCormick, in jeans and a T-shirt, definitely awake now, but looking as if the nap wasn’t nearly long enough.

LARCOM

(surprised)

Who the hell are you?

McCORMICK

The guy who’s staying in the second room on the right. Can I help you, sheriff?

LARCOM

(looks past McCormick, as if he might brush by him and enter)

I’m lookin’ for that lawyer fella, Hardcastle. He here?

McCORMICK

(glances over his shoulder, then back at Larcom, while still fully occupying the doorway on general Fourth Amendment principles)

Not here, looks like.

(beat)

What’s he done now?

LARCOM

There’s been a murder. A kid named Kooms.

McCormick is now fully awake, staring even, but there’s no chance to ask anymore questions before we hear,

HARDCASTLE (V.O.)

Hey, Larcom!

ANGLE—PULL BACK

Hardcastle is striding up the walk from the street.

HARDCASTLE

You saved me a trip. I wanted to—

There’s the slightest shake of McCormick’s head. Larcom doesn’t catch it but Hardcastle definitely does. He closes his mouth abruptly on what he intended to say and forces a polite smile of inquiry.

HARDCASTLE

Something up, Sheriff?

LARCOM

Sure as hell is.

(scowls)

Kitty McCray may have stuck that scissors into him, but I’d say you’re responsible, Judge.

McCORMICK

(quietly)

Lester Kooms is dead.

Larcom shoots McCormick a look.

HARDCASTLE

(frowning in puzzlement)

What the hell happened?

LARCOM

Found him in the tall grass at the edge of the cemetery. Musta gone there to do the mowing; he works for Bill Lovell, the funeral director. Stab wounds to the chest—looks like five or six of them, but it probably only took one. The weapon was a scissors, and we found her and it right there, by Erma’s grave.

(beat)

Helluva thing. Nothing like that ever happened here before. You show up and now look.

HARDCASTLE

Where is she?

LARCOM

(irritated)

At the lock-up.

HARDCASTLE

Is she all right?

LARCOM

I got Doc Springer taking a look at her. A cut on her hand, looks like, that’s all.

HARDCASTLE

A defensive wound?

LARCOM

Those scissors are hers. She’s admitting that.

HARDCASTLE

You questioned her already?

LARCOM

No, well,

(backs down slightly)

she said she wanted you there.

HARDCASTLE

(still worried, but smiling slightly)

You mean she asked for her lawyer.

(aside to McCormick)

Smart girl.

(to Larcom)

I think you better pull the train back in the station, Sheriff. The railroad stops right here.

Hold on that for a moment and then,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE SHERIFF’S HEADQUARTER’S - DAY

There are more than the usual number of vehicles out front, including a van from the California State Police and a hearse. The sheriff’s Jeep, followed closely by McCormick driving the Coyote, pull into parking spaces in the lot alongside the building.

INT. THE OUTER ROOM—SHERIFF’S HEADQUARTER’S—DAY

A couple of nameless deputies are trying to keep things sorted out. The crowd includes BILL LOVELL, MAGGIE, an evidence tech and support crew from the state police, ditto from the county medical examiner, and a reporter from the local paper. There are multiple conversations going on and we hear snatches.

LOVELL

(to deputy)

No, he didn’t have any next of kin, far as I know—

MAGGIE

(to the other deputy)

I just want to know when I can see her, that’s all.

EVIDENCE TECH

(to one of the other investigators)

Yeah, got the preliminaries. Just sign here and I’ll run it down to HQ.

The outer door opens. LARCOM steps in, with Hardcastle and McCormick behind him. Larcom is immediately besieged.

REPORTER

Do you have a statement for us yet, Sheriff?

LARCOM

(to the reporter, aggravated)

‘Course I don’t, Rudy. You know better. You already know everything I’m gonna tell you. It’s Lester Kooms, he’s dead, and we’re still trying to figure out what happened.

(he waves the reporter away and turns to Lovell)

What’re you doing here, Bill?

LOVELL

(looking grim)

I want to know what happened.

(beat)

And when will they release him…the body.

LARCOM

(reaching out to pat him on the arm)

Won’t know any of that for a while. Why don’t you just head back to your place. I’ll let you know.

Lovell drops his chin a bit, then nods as Larcom moves past him. Lovell casts another hostile look at Hardcastle as he follows behind the sheriff. The camera holds on Larcom, Hardcastle, and McCormick as they wend through the hangers-on toward the door to the back.

CUT TO:

INT. THE BACK HALLWAY—DAY

The door opens and the three men enter. It’s quieter back here. The door to Larcom’s office is open and work clutters the desk just as he apparently left it when he received the first call about the murder. At the far end of the hall is another door. This one is closed and marked “Lock-Up—Authorized Personnel Only”. It opens and DOC SPRINGER emerges, carrying an old-style leather doctor’s bag. He looks up. His expression is unhappy.

LARCOM

(to Springer)

How is she?

SPRINGER

(glancing warily at Hardcastle but then addressing Larcom)

Physically? Just a cut, on her right hand.

LARCOM

From—?

SPRINGER

(aggravated)

Something sharp. How the hell should I know, Jed? I’m a family practitioner.

(shakes his head)

She says she cut it on a piece of glass this morning.

LARCOM

And…otherwise?

Springer opens his mouth to answer.

HARDCASTLE

(interrupting sharply)

I need to see my client.

Springer stares at him.

LARCOM

(heaves a sigh, then, to Springer,)

She’s decent?

SPRINGER

(nods)

Got her in a gown right now. Maggie said she’ll bring something for her later.

LARCOM

(to Hardcastle)

There were blood splatters on her clothes. They’re going to the state lab.

(beat)

You want to see her now?

Hardcastle nods. Larcom gestures with one hand down the hall. Hardcastle strides past him. McCormick starts to follow. Larcom holds his arm out, blocking the way.

LARCOM

You a lawyer, too?

McCormick hesitates, then starts to shake his head.

HARDCASTLE

(sharply)

He’s my clerk.

He makes a beckoning gesture to McCormick with one hand. Larcom frowns momentarily, but relents. McCormick smiles tightly and edges past him to join Hardcastle. Larcom lets out another sigh, follows them both to the door and opens it.

LARCOM

(to someone on the inside)

Let ‘em in and give ‘em some privacy.

As Hardcastle and McCormick pass through, Larcom glances back at Springer. Both men look unhappy.

CUT TO:

INT. A HOLDING CELL—DAY

It’s not the classic barred cell of small-town jail lore. This is a utilitarian room with a cot bolted to wall and floor. KITTY McCRAY is sitting dolefully on the edge of it, wearing a capacious blue cotton doctor’s examining gown that looks oversized on her. We hear the rattle as the door is unlocked. McCray looks up.

ANGLE—THE DOOR

We see the face of a deputy at the small window in the door, then it swings open. Hardcastle steps in. McCormick, not far behind him, takes a quick look at the surroundings, frowns, and turns to the deputy.

McCORMICK

Can we have a chair in here?

The deputy looks doubtful but steps away and returns a moment later with one.

McCORMICK

(nods and takes it)

Don’t forget to close the door on your way out.

The deputy is unsmiling as he departs, but the door is properly closed. McCormick hands the chair over to Hardcastle before stepping back and taking a position against the wall Hardcastle sets the chair down directly in front of McCray and sits, gazing at her intently.

HARDCASTLE

You need a lawyer.

McCRAY

I didn’t kill him.

She sounds earnest and quite sane. Hardcastle continues his very intent stare.

McCRAY

I used the scissors this morning in the garden. I stuck them in my pocket. They must’ve fallen out when I bent over to put the flowers in the vase. That was the first time I was there.

(sighs)

It’s a long story.

HARDCASTLE

I’m a good listener.

Hold on McCray’s expression—somber, but with a hint of hope, then,

CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF LARCOM’S OFFICE—DAY

He’s at his desk, the telephone receiver to his ear, and is in apparent mid-conversation. He has a notepad on the desk in front of him and a pen in his hand.

LARCOM

(jotting a note)

That’s real interesting.

(beat)

No, I think he’s right here. It makes a whole lot of sense—more than the other version, that’s for damn sure.

(beat)

And I thank you for putting a rush on it, on a Saturday and all. You’ve got a helluva team up there—you and the M.E., you tell him I said that, willya?

(long beat)

Uh-huh. Send it all up here; I’ll be waiting for it. You take care now.

He hangs up and sits for a moment, looking down at the note pad with a considering expression and a thin smile. Then he stands.

LARCOM

(using a voice meant to be heard in the hallway)

Miller?

A deputy pops his head in at the door.

LARCOM

(looks increasingly satisfied)

We got a little job to do.

CUT TO:

INT. McCRAY’S CELL—DAY

McCray is still sitting on the edge of the cot, but leaning forward, a little more animated, in mid-conversation, with Hardcastle and McCormick where we left them, listening.

McCRAY

It was in the vase—the one I borrowed this morning when I found the other one broken. That was when I cut my hand—

(holds her finger out, it’s been bandaged)

Earlier—the first time I was at the cemetery.

Hardcastle frowns, glances at McCormick who shrugs and then shakes his head slightly. Neither one of them noticed her injury earlier in the kitchen.

McCRAY

(considering her own finger with a sigh, then lets her hand fall into her lap)

I went back to swap out the vases, a new one for the one I borrowed.

(to herself)

As if it mattered to anybody.

HARDCASTLE

And when you saw the scissors—?

McCRAY

I reached for them—reflex. I don’t know what I thought—not that somebody’d been murdered.

(shudders)

And…and I saw the blood, and I screamed.

Hardcastle sits back, exhaling heavily. There’s a beat and then he looks over at McCormick again, who gives another small shrug.

McCORMICK

All circumstantial, but the scissors—damn.

Hardcastle opens his mouth to weigh in but is interrupted by the sound of the door opening again.

HARDCASTLE

(loudly)

Not done here yet.

The door opens further. SHERIFF LARCOM and DEPUTY MILLER enter, resulting in not much room left. It’s not immediately obvious, but Miller moves to flank McCormick.

HARDCASTLE

(checks his watch)

We haven’t even had ten minutes.

LARCOM

Something’s come up. Just got a call from the state evidence lab.

(beat, then to McCormick)

I need to see some I.D.

McCormick’s fleeting look of puzzlement is quickly replaced by grim understanding. He fishes his wallet out of his back pocket, pulls his driver’s license out and offers it. Larcom takes it, glances down at it, and nods once sharply to Miller, who produces a set of cuffs.

HARDCASTLE

What the hell—?

Miller steps in to apply the cuffs.

LARCOM

Mr. McCormick, the van Lester Kooms was last seen driving was found abandoned on a back-road near the cemetery. The steering wheel and shift had been wiped, but those boys the State sent over, they’re real thorough. They lifted a set of prints from the driver’s side door, and another set off a map they found under the seat.

(he casts a look at Hardcastle)

You know your ‘clerk’ here is a two-time felon?

HARDCASTLE

I oughta, I sentenced him the second time.

McCORMICK

(irritated—to Hardcastle)

I don’t think that’s exactly helping.

(to Larcom)

Cuffs? I’m already in the cell, for Pete’s sake.

HARDCASTLE

All you’ve got is a couple sets of prints on the van—I think you’re a long way from an indictment, Sheriff.

LARCOM

Person of interest—at least until the rest of the evidence is processed.

(to McCormick, consulting a card he’s pulled from his pocket)

You have the right to remain silent…

He continues to drone out the rest of the Miranda while Miller snaps the cuffs shut.

LARCOM

Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?

As Larcom utters the last words of the Miranda—

CUT TO BLACK

McCORMICK (V.O.)

(peeved)

Yeah, yeah, I understand.

(then mutters)

I shoulda seen this coming.

NEXT ACT