ACT IV

FADE IN:

EXT. THE SHERIFF’S BUILDING—TWILIGHT

There are people milling, just a few in small groups, talking among themselves.

INT. A HOLDING CELL—TWILIGHT

This one has McCormick sitting on the edge of the bunk, and is otherwise the mirror image of the one earlier occupied by Kitty McCray. McCormick looks pensive—his right elbow on his knee and his chin resting on the palm of that hand. At the now-familiar rattle of the door lock he straightens up. The door swings open and Hardcastle steps in, past Deputy Miller.

MILLER

(to Hardcastle)

Ten minutes.

Hardcastle grunts. No chair is provided this time. McCormick stands and gestures to the cot, though it’s hard to say if this is an act of courtesy, or a chance for his visitor to try the full effect. Hardcastle glances at the cot and stays standing. McCormick leans back against the wall.

McCORMICK

So, do I need a lawyer?

HARDCASTLE

(wrinkles his nose)

Kinda looks that way, at least for now.

McCORMICK

You know a good one?

HARDCASTLE

Listen, if you want me to apologize, I will.

(clears his throat slightly)

I’m sorry.

(beat)

There, now we got that out of the way.

McCormick snorts and shakes his head, even smiling slightly.

HARDCASTLE

I had a little talk with Larcom. He’s playing it all pretty close to the vest, but I’d say he really prefers you to Kitty as a suspect.

McCORMICK

But the scissors—

HARDCASTLE

There was hardly any blood at the scene.

McCORMICK

What about what Kitty saw?

HARDCASTLE

A little blood goes a long way in water. From the preliminary exam, it looks like Kooms was dead before he was stabbed. A blunt object to the left side of his head.

McCORMICK

So Larcom thinks whoever killed Kooms tried to frame Kitty.

HARDCASTLE

If it makes you feel any better, he wants you to know he understands how it might’ve happened. The general consensus is that Kooms has been a homicide waiting to happen for a long time now.

McCORMICK

And along comes a sloppy ex-con who gets fingerprints on the guy’s car—is that really all it takes to get a conviction?

HARDCASTLE

(pacing now)

Conviction? It’s not even enough for an indictment. Give me ‘til Monday morning; that’s what habeas corpus is all about.

McCORMICK

Listen—

(reaches out, halts Hardcastle in his tracks)

Insufficient evidence isn’t enough. A murder in a small-town cemetery? You know the wire service is going to pick this one up. And you come tromping in here with a writ, trying to embarrass the locals—

(beat)

That’ll only make ‘em try twice as hard to pin it on me.

HARDCASTLE

It doesn’t work that way—

McCORMICK

Says the man who’s personally been framed three times.

(shakes his head)

It’s like some kind of blind spot for you, this undying faith in the criminal justice system.

Hardcastle, still halted in his tracks, considers the accusation for a half-beat and then finally acknowledges it with a small shrug.

McCORMICK

(sighs, then draws himself up straighter)

Anyway, somebody killed that guy.

(beat)

It wasn’t me, and it looks like it wasn’t Kitty.

HARDCASTLE

So you think I oughta nail whoever did this—

It dawns on McCormick what he’s just put into motion. He looks worried.

HARDCASTLE

—even though you’re in here, so I’ll be flying solo. Is this some kinda special dispensation?

McCormick swallows hard and then produces a thin smile.

McCORMICK

Yeah, I guess. Something like that.

HARDCASTLE

Good, ‘cause I figured I’d do it anyway.

(glances back at the door and then sharply at McCormick)

Could you try and stay put tonight? No jailbreaks—nothing like that.

He’s finally pried a genuine (though rueful) smile from McCormick, but no actual promises. Play that and,

CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF LARCOM’S OFFICE—TWILIGHT

He’s sitting at his desk, staring pensively at some papers in front of him but not looking as though he’s actually reading. He also does not look like a guy who’s cracked a murder case in record time. It might be that he’s not all that pleased with himself. There’s a sharp rap on the open door. It’s DEPUTY MILLER, with a plastic bag. Larcom glances up.

MILLER

Maggie fetched some things for Kitty.

LARCOM

Good.

(shooing motion with one hand)

Give ‘em to her and tell her to get dressed, and she’s free to go.

Miller nods and then glances back over his shoulder. We see Hardcastle has moved up behind him in the doorway.

MILLER

(to Larcom, with a jerk of his chin back at Hardcastle)

He’s done with his client. Wanted a word with you.

Hardcastle squeezes by Miller, not waiting for an invitation. Miller ducks out.

HARDCASTLE

So you’re letting Kitty go, huh?

(looks at Larcom speculatively)

You never suspected her in the first place, I’d guess. That was all just a ruse while you waited on that report from the state lab.

Larcom leans back in his chair, studying Hardcastle. It’s a long beat before he shrugs.

LARCOM

I told you she wasn’t violent. And it doesn’t take a forensic expert to see something was fishy with that crime scene.

HARDCASTLE

For the record, we both know you’re right about Kitty. Somebody tried to frame her but it wasn’t McCormick.

LARCOM

(surprisingly sincere)

Well, I guess we’ll see about that, huh?

(beat, then sharper)

You want to start by telling me how his finger prints got on that van?

HARDCASTLE

The outside of the van.

(hesitates a moment)

Look, my client met your victim exactly once—this morning. He saw Kooms giving Kitty a hard time and pulled over. Kooms must’ve grabbed the map.

LARCOM

Too bad nobody reported that to me ‘this morning’.

Hardcastle looks sullen.

LARCOM

You know how this looks, don’t you? Our main suspect—

HARDCASTLE

‘Person of interest.’

LARCOM

Suspect—

(frowns)

—confronted the victim only an hour or so before he was murdered.

HARDCASTLE

Which is why my client didn’t rush forward with the information.

(earnestly insistent)

But he did tell me earlier today.

LARCOM

(dryly)

Before, or after he hit Kooms over the head? You know I’m still willing to consider this manslaughter—maybe even self-defense, but he has to come clean.

HARDCASTLE

He’s innocent. So’s Kitty, which means you still have a killer walking around out there.

LARCOM

(grimaces)

Look, we can argue about this all night; all I know is that I had a nice, peaceful little town, then an ex-con shows up and a couple hours later Kooms is—

He stops in mid-sentence and is staring fixedly past Hardcastle, who turns to look at what has the man’s attention.

ANGLE—TOWARD THE DOORWAY

Kitty McCray is standing there, looking hastily dressed in clothes that are several sizes too large for her.

McCRAY

The deputy said I’m released.

LARCOM

We’ll want to talk to you, ask you some more questions, but that can wait. You’re not a suspect.

McCray looks puzzled.

LARCOM

(punctiliously precise)

Whoever stabbed Lester with your scissors did it after he was already dead.

(beat)

He was trying to make us think you’d done it.

McCRAY

And you think it was Mr. McCormick?

Larcom stays silent but nods almost imperceptibly. McCray thinks about this for a moment and then turns to Hardcastle.

McCRAY

Are you finished here?

HARDCASTLE

For now, yes.

McCRAY

Then can we go?

(to Larcom)

You haven’t believed a word I’ve said; why should I listen to you?

She pivots and leaves. Hardcastle casts an unsmiling look at Larcom and follows. Larcom is left, sitting as we found him. He picks op the pencil again but is still staring at the doorway with an unsettled expression. Hold on that and,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE McCRAY HOUSE—NIGHT

HARDCASTLE (V.O.)

Besides you, was there anyone else Kooms was in the habit of annoying?

INT. THE MCCRAY KITCHEN—NIGHT

Hardcastle is sitting at the table. McCray has just plugged in a percolator. She looks over her shoulder at Hardcastle for a moment.

McCRAY

The list would be shorter if you asked me who his friends were.

(she turns back to gathering the coffee things but continues talking)

Lester had a way of figuring out people’s weak spots and going for them. Like a shark: if you bled just a little, there he was. I just bled more than most.

(she pauses in mid-reach for the cabinet door)

Huh.

Hardcastle glances up.

McCRAY

I didn’t notice it this morning.

(gestures to the cabinet with her bandaged hand)

I got some blood on it.

(reaches for a dishrag)

HARDCASTLE

Wait.

(he stands and moves close enough to study the stain, then to McCray, sharply)

Don’t touch it. I saw you get that vase down yesterday. It supports that part of your story—that you cut yourself during that first visit to the cemetery, not because you hammered Kooms with a vase.

McCRAY

(frowns)

But the sheriff said I wasn’t a suspect anymore.

HARDCASTLE

(gives her an intense look)

Not as long as they’ve got McCormick to pin it on.

(beat)

You still want to help me prove he didn’t do it?

McCRAY

(no hesitation)

Yes.

(swallows hard)

Anyway, the sheriff’s right about one thing. Lester’s been a bully for a while now, but nobody went and hit him on the head until you came here.

HARDCASTLE

I’d never even met the guy.

(half-serious)

You want me to account for my movements this morning?

McCRAY

(entirely serious)

No—what I mean is you’re the first one who even half-way believed me about Erma. You start poking around and suddenly Lester’s dead.

(beat)

I think he knew what happened to my grandma.

Hardcastle looks skeptical.

McCRAY

(undaunted)

He’d have to have known, right? He worked for the undertaker.

HARDCASTLE

I think maybe we should solve one murder at a time.

(frowns)

You know there is one thing that bothered me about that report…

Hold on his pensive expression for a moment and then,

CUT TO:

ANGLE—McCORMICK’S FACE

Eyes closed, lit by a patch of light through the window in the cell door, the only source of illumination. He’s lying on his back on the cot, but apparently not asleep. His eyes open suddenly to an immediate and penetrating stare at the ceiling above him. A moment later he sits up, swings his feet over the edge of the cot and is on his feet, heading for the door.

McCORMICK

Hey,

(leaning his face against the bars of the little window, to get the greatest angle of view into the hallway)

Miller!

(beat)

I need to talk to Larcom.

MILLER (V.O.)

(from further off)

What? No. Go ta sleep, will ya, it’s after midnight.

McCormick frowns, looks around for something, then finally reaches down, pulls off a shoe, and starts pounding on the inside of the door.

McCORMICK

Miller! Mil-ler!

He carries on like this for a moment or two, then pauses. There’s some shuffling noises from the hall.

MILLER (V.O.)

You’re a damn pain in the—

Miller appears suddenly in the window, face-to-face with McCormick and looking harassed.

MILLER

Larcom’ll be back at seven. What’s so damn important? You wanna make a confession?

McCORMICK

Sorry, no. No confessions today.

(beat)

I need something.

MILLER

Breakfast is at 8:30 and there’s a slop bucket under your cot. Lock-up rules: prisoners stay in their cells at night. No exceptions.

McCORMICK

That’s a very sensible rule; you won’t have to violate it. I just need you to bring me something.

MILLER

(suspiciously)

What? No smoking in here.

McCORMICK

(virtuously)

I gave it up. It’s not good for you.

(beat)

I need the reports the sheriff got—the stuff the state lab sent.

MILLER

What the hell—

(askance)

You can’t look at those.

McCORMICK

(even more virtuous)

Why not, they’re the reason I’m in here, aren’t they? I have a right to see the evidence against me.

MILLER

It’s midnight, for Pete’s sake.

McCORMICK

You do know that if a murder isn’t solved in the first twenty-four hours after it’s committed, the odds of it ever being solved decrease by 157%.

MILLER

(nobody’s fool)

Yeah, but I reckon this one’s already solved.

McCORMICK

Then it won’t hurt to let me see the reports, will it? Heck, maybe I’ll give up all hope and confess on the spot.

MILLER

(starts to turn away)

That lawyer friend of yours can request ‘em.

McCORMICK

(gives the door one last pound with his shoe)

Flinch v. California, Villanova v. Los Angeles County.

MILLER

(halts and looks back through the window)

Huh?

McCORMICK

Suits based on failure to provide evidence to the defendant in a timely fashion. Not to mention the original cases that were shot down in appeals.

(shakes his head sadly)

Careers ruined, slam-dunk cases overturned. A real pity. All because somebody couldn’t be bothered to hand over a file that had been requested.

(bends over, puts his shoe back on, then stands again, leaning casually against the door)

You should ask your boss.

MILLER

At midnight? You’re crazy.

(beat)

You’re just gonna end up seeing them eventually anyhow.

McCORMICK

(an encouraging smile)

Exactly.

Miller sighs and turns away. McCormick leans into the window again, watching him go. Then he leans back, hands in his pockets, whistling something, sotto voce. A moment later we hear steps in the hallways again. This time a thin manila file folder appears in the window, being shoved between the bars.

MILLER

Here. If you think I’m unlocking this door, you’re nuts.

McCORMICK

Not necessary. I got the bucket.

(wistfully)

Coffee’d be nice.

(gets his hand on the file before Miller can react to the request)

MILLER

(grumbles)

‘Coffee.’

McCORMICK

(moves away from the door, opening the file)

Or not. Just a thought.

He squints down at the file in the gloom, then holds it up to catch more of the limited light and glances at Miller with a questioning look.

MILLER

(smiles back just a little evilly)

Lights out is lights out. Lock-up rules. You got any precedent against that?

(he chuckles and turns away)

McCormick shakes his head then sits on the edge of the cot, centering the open file in the small patch of light. He turns a page and then hunches over it, trying to stay out of his own light as he studies it closely. Hold on that for a moment and then,

CUT TO: INT. THE McCRAY KITCHEN—NIGHT

Kitty McCray and Hardcastle are sitting across from each other, coffee cups and pot in reach. McCray looks tired, but still focused. Hardcastle is leaning forward, elbows on the table.

McCRAY

I don’t know much else about Mr. Lovell. He’s run the funeral home for as long as I can remember.

HARDCASTLE

And Kooms—?

McCRAY

I think he’s some kind of cousin, or something. He wasn’t born here. He just sort of showed up and started working for him a couple years ago. Nobody liked him.

HARDCASTLE

Not even Lovell?

McCRAY

(looking thoughtful)

Not really.

HARDCASTLE

So why didn’t he fire him?

McCRAY

I dunno. Like I said, maybe they’re related.

HARDCASTLE

(looks down at the pad, taps it with his pencil)

What we’ve got, it doesn’t come close to being proof. What we need is a lever.

(beat)

I don’t suppose you have any idea how we could reach your mom?

McCRAY

(shakes her head dubiously)

When she goes, she’s gone. I think it’s mostly to San Francisco. Why would she be any help?

HARDCASTLE

I’m still not sure there’s any connection between Kooms’ death and Erma’s, but if there is, the way to shake things up is to do the one thing everybody around here except you is dead set against.

(beat)

Your mom is a first-degree relative to Erma. All we’d need is her say-so to get your grandma exhumed, then hire a pathologist to do a private autopsy.

Kitty McCray is sitting, staring at him intently but saying nothing.

HARDCASTLE

That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? An autopsy? Just the threat might be enough to shake something loose.

(beat—he looks at McCray with some concern)

You okay? Been a long day.

McCRAY

(abruptly)

Does adoption count?

HARDCASTLE

Ah—?

McCRAY

Is an adopted child same as a regular one?

HARDCASTLE

You’re—

McCRAY

Adopted. Yeah. I always called her ‘Grams’, but she got custody when I was really little; that was the second time my mom ran off.

HARDCASTLE

Officially? There’s papers?

McCray nods and starts to get to her feet.

HARDCASTLE

(frowning)

Was this some kinda secret or did folks around here know about it?

McCRAY

(pausing in the kitchen door, she cocks her head)

No big secret. Anyway, it’s a small town. You ever live in a small town?

Hardcastle nods, to both the question and to McCray’s conclusion. She steps out but returns a moment later.

McCRAY

Here.

She hands a thick envelope over to Hardcastle. He pulls out the contents and unfolds the document, scanning it briefly and then looking up from it.

HARDCASTLE

This is a formal adoption.

(holds the forms out)

And you’re sure it was common knowledge?

McCRAY

(nods)

Sure I’m sure. You mean I was entitled all along?

HARDCASTLE

Looks that way.

(beat)

And assuming there’s a connection between Erma’s death and Lester Kooms’ murder, our suspect list just got a lot shorter.

(beat, and a grim smile)

I don’t suppose you’ve got a typewriter?

Play that and then,

CUT TO:

EXT. MAIN STREET, KOGANVILLE—EARLY MORNING

The Coyote, driven by Hardcastle with Kitty McCray in the passenger seat, drives into view and parks near the Do Drop Inn. She’s holding a package in her lap.

ANGLE—HARDCASTLE AND McCRAY

HARDCASTLE

He’ll be here?

McCRAY

(she opens the car door to climb out)

Every morning.

Hardcastle, uncharacteristically, opens his door, too. That and his general appearance give the impression he didn’t get any sleep, but despite that he seems determinedly animated as he escorts McCray toward the cafe.

INT. THE DO DROP INN—EARLY MORNING

There are only a handful of customers and minimal conversations as they imbibe their first life-giving draughts of coffee. BILL LOVELL is sitting at a table by himself toward the back. MAGGIE is at the counter. She looks up as Hardcastle and McCray enter. McCray crosses to her and hands her the bag she was carrying.

McCRAY

Thanks for the clothes.

Maggie takes the bag and stows it behind the counter. She shoots Hardcastle an untrusting look and then turns back to McCray.

MAGGIE

(earnestly concerned)

Are you okay?

McCray nods. Hardcastle, pretty much having ignored this exchange, and Maggie’s suspicions, now edges between the tables maneuvering toward the back. Lovell looks up and appears startled to see him.

LOVELL

(controlled hostility)

You still here?

HARDCASTLE

My truck’s still in the shop.

(beat)

And my friend’s in the lock-up.

LOVELL

(segues to the real subject)

I know Lester was a little rough around the edges, but he was just a kid. He didn’t deserve to be killed.

HARDCASTLE

(nods once, judiciously)

You’re right about that.

(beat)

Anyway, I think they’ll catch the murderer.

LOVELL

(pugnacious)

I heard they already have.

HARDCASTLE

Nah. I mean the real murderer.

Lovell frowns for a moment, then shakes his head and starts to rise, though he’s still got coffee in his cup.

HARDCASTLE

But I figured, as long as I was here, I might as well lend Kitty a hand.

(he reaches into his pocket and extracts a folded sheet of paper)

This is for you. You’re the head of the township’s cemetery board, right?

Lovell accepts the paper warily, unfolds it and glances at it, then fixes it with a stare.

HARDCASTLE

It’s a request for the removal of the remains of Erma McCray.

LOVELL

Why?

(to McCray)

We gave her a decent burial. I even donated the casket.

Kitty McCray stands rigid, unmoved.

HARDCASTLE

(businesslike, to Lovell)

Now I expect Mr. Kooms did your backhoe work, am I right?

Lovell is also rigid, still staring at McCray.

HARDCASTLE

(sighs)

I’m also assuming you don’t have any union rules to work with here, but if you do, let me know and I’ll make sure the guy I hire has his dues paid up. I’m figuring I can get someone by tomorrow, say ten-ish?

He leans in and taps the table once to get the man’s attention. Lovell startles and darts his gaze back to Hardcastle.

LOVELL

Ten? That won’t be—

HARDCASTLE

All right, we’ll make it noon. That’ll give me time to set things up with the pathologist and arrange the transportation.

(smiles)

Noon’s good for you?

Lovell casts one last unhappy look at McCray, then crumples the paper and jams it into his pocket.

HARDCASTLE

(observes pointedly)

Makes it harder to file.

He turns and walks away. McCray falls in at his side as he passes the counter. They head for the door and exit.

ANGLE—LOVELL

His expression is openly hostile. Hold on this and,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE SHERIFF’S HEADQUARTER’S—MORNING

The show is over. There are just a couple of official cars there, and the bystanders are long gone. Hardcastle and McCray approach on foot.

INT. SHERIFF’S HEADQUARTERS, OUTER OFFICE—MORNING

It’s shift change and Deputy Miller is packing up his stuff, ready to head out. He glances up as Hardcastle and McCray enter.

HARDCASTLE

(smiling politely)

Sheriff in?

MILLER

(hooks a thumb toward the back)

He’s in conference.

Hardcastle looks puzzled and casts a glance at the clock. It’s 7:15 a.m.

MILLER

Your client was askin’ to see him for about an hour now. Think he decided to confess?

Hardcastle snorts and heads for the door to the back hallway. McCray follows along behind.

MILLER

Hey, you can’t—

HARDCASTLE

He’s my client, isn’t he?

He pushes through the door and is gone. McCray is right behind him. Hold on Miller, looking completely ineffectual, and then,

CUT TO:

INT. SHERIFF LARCOM’S OFFICE

Larcom is behind his desk, with his morning cup of coffee. McCormick is sitting in the chair across from him, the file open on the side of the desk closest to McCormick. Hardcastle enters the doorway, and surveys the situation. McCray appears behind him, peering around his shoulder. McCormick glances over his shoulder at the new arrivals.

McCORMICK

(to Hardcastle)

Remind me next time not to hire a lawyer who doesn’t have a phone.

HARDCASTLE

You’re lucky I’m not charging you by the hour. I’m up to twelve of ‘em already.

(glances over at the file)

You talking to him about what I think you’re talking to him about?

McCORMICK

Probably.

(nods to the file)

We both heard the same thing yesterday, didn’t we? I was just pointing out to the sheriff, here, how unlikely it would have been for a hardened and experienced criminal such as myself—

HARDCASTLE

I don’t think that’s helping things here—

McCORMICK

(ignoring interruption)

—having just finished killing a man, and presumably driven his van, to have wiped only the steering wheel and the shift.

HARDCASTLE

Exactly.

(to Larcom)

I’m guessing the state lab was thorough.

Larcom nods.

McCORMICK

(to Hardcastle)

Very thorough: inside handles, dash, everything. It’s all right here. The only prints they found, besides Kooms’, were a guy who’s on file from previous military service.

HARDCASTLE

Lemme guess, Bill Lovell?

McCORMICK

Got it in one.

LARCOM

But it’s his van.

HARDCASTLE

Which makes him the only person who wouldn’t have to worry about his prints being found elsewhere in the vehicle.

McCORMICK

Just as long as he wiped the obvious places, to give the impression that there’d been another person who’d been worried about leaving prints. And—

(shakes his head)

what gives with moving the van at all? Unless Kooms was killed somewhere else, somewhere that would have put suspicion on the killer, who then put him in the van and drove him to the nearest quiet public place—the cemetery.

HARDCASTLE

Then he needed an excuse to wipe the wheel, so he moved the van again, to ‘hide’ it.

McCORMICK

And then—after he’s all done—he’s cutting back across the cemetery to go home and he spots the scissors next to Erma’s grave.

HARDCASTLE

He just couldn’t resist.

McCORMICK

(nods)

Improv is a really bad idea when it comes to murder.

Larcom is staring at them both. Both the tale and its telling are seamless. He lets out a heavy sigh. McCormick smiles wanly and nudges the file toward him.

LARCOM

You’re telling me Bill Lovell killed Kooms? Why?

McCRAY

(ducking in past Hardcastle and into the room)

Because Lester knew something about what happened to my grandma.

Larcom doesn’t roll his eyes, but he casts a weary look at Hardcastle.

HARDCASTLE

That’s one theory.

(hesitates a half beat and then:)

And we’ve got a way to test it. You knew Erma formally adopted her grand-daughter?

LARCOM

(shrugs)

Sure. That’s common knowledge.

HARDCASTLE

Sounds like it was. But it’s probably not common knowledge that a next-of-kin can request an exhumation anytime. Maybe they don’t like the view, or it’s too far to visit—

McCORMICK

Or they think somebody was killed.

HARDCASTLE

(grimly)

Or that. An exhumation and a private autopsy. Just for their own peace of mind, if nothing else.

LARCOM

(hesitant)

Guess it’s never come up here before.

HARDCASTLE

(dryly)

I suppose not. And I understand that cemetery law isn’t your area of expertise.

(beat)

But Lovell—a funeral director and the guy in charge of the local cemetery—he sure knew about it. He ever mention that little hitch to you?

As Larcom considers the question his expression slowly hardens. McCormick looks increasingly concerned but Hardcastle is serene, as though he already knows the answer.

LARCOM

No.

(starts slowly)

In fact, we had a couple talks about it, me and him and some of the other folks who were worried about Kitty.

He casts a look her way. It’s meant to show concern but smacks of condescension. She stares back, unforgiving. He finally breaks off with another sigh.

LARCOM

As I recall, he was pretty insistent that she needed grounds for an exhumation, and there weren’t any. That’s his territory; I didn’t question him.

(shakes his head sharply)

Besides, Erma being in the hospital, under a doctor’s care when she passed—

(to McCray)

Sorry, Kitty, there was nothing strange about her death.

HARDCASTLE

Then Lovell won’t mind if we get Erma exhumed, now will he?

(beat)

It’s set for tomorrow.

Larcom sits back in his chair, rocking it once, then landing forward with both feet firmly planted. He’s made up his mind about something.

LARCOM

You served him notice about that?

HARDCASTLE

(smiling sharply)

First thing today.

(beat)

That’ll give me just enough time tomorrow morning to run down to the county seat and file for a writ on my client here.

Hardcastle gestures to McCormick. Larcom narrows his eyes a little. McCormick looks tense.

HARDCASTLE

(persistent as hell)

You know you don’t have enough evidence to charge him and this ‘person of interest’ thing gets old real fast.

There’s a long hanging moment as Larcom seems to be considering his prospects. He finally shoots a look a McCormick.

LARCOM

I’d advise you not to leave the jurisdiction.

McCORMICK

(soberly intense)

Not a chance of that until this is settled.

LARCOM

(to Hardcastle)

You know what you’ve done, don’t you? I’m not sayin’ Bill Lovell is guilty, but if he is—if there is something about Erma that he’d rather stay buried—you’ve backed him into a corner.

Play the look he’s giving Hardcastle, and then,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE SHERIFF’S HEADQUARTERS—DAY

Hardcastle emerges, then holds the door as McCray and McCormick pass through. McCormick has a paper bag tucked under one arm and is fastening his watchband as he walks.

ANGLE—HARDCASTLE, McCORMICK AND McCRAY

They’re clustered together on the sidewalk. McCormick, now with his watch properly attached, is already eying their surroundings cautiously.

McCORMICK

(to Hardcastle)

You’re clear on what happens when you back somebody into a corner?

Hardcastle nods absently.

McCORMICK

You’ve left this guy no out except to take Kitty down…you too, probably.

HARDCASTLE

(cocking his head)

You did say it was okay to go after him, remember? And I even got you sprung so you wouldn’t miss out on anything.

(beat)

Look, we better hope this guy makes a move. There’s a lot of stuff that won’t show up on an autopsy after three months, even if there’s anything to show up. And all that deductive reasoning we were slinging back there isn’t going to convince a grand jury.

(lifts his head and slaps his hands together)

You had breakfast yet?

McCormick shakes his head.

HARDCASTLE

Whaddaya say we give Maggie a little business? Anyway, I need to make some calls, and we outta let the locals see you’re out of the hoosegow.

McCray grins. McCormick looks sullen. Hardcastle gives him a poke with his elbow.

HARDCASTLE

Hey, how’d you get ‘em to show you the file?

McCORMICK

That?

(shrugs)

I just made up a bunch of precedent.

Hardcastle stares at him for a moment and then shakes his head slowly as they turn and walk off, down the street.

ANGLE—POV FROM INSIDE A CAR FURTHER BACK ON THE STREET

The unseen observer watches Hardcastle, McCormick, and McCray walk away. His hands reach up and clutch the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip. Hold, and then,

CUT TO:

INT. THE DO DROP INN—DAY

A few more people are there but Lovell is gone. Maggie looks up as Hardcastle, McCormick, and McCray enter. Maggie crosses to McCray and takes her by the shoulders.

MAGGIE

You okay?

(casts a suspicious sideward glance at Hardcastle and McCormick and then leans in a little closer)

I mean really okay?

McCRAY

‘Course I am.

(pulls away)

MAGGIE

(lets go reluctantly)

You’re really going to do it then?

McCray nods firmly. There’s a pause as Maggie considers her.

MAGGIE

Then good for you, girl.

(smiles affectionately)

You may be a little crazy, but you’ve got spunk.

(beat, then leaning in again, this time conspiratorially)

Bill Lovell lit outta here right after you left. Looked madder than a wet hen.

Hardcastle shoots a knowing glance at McCormick, who has the sense to look concerned.

McCORMICK

(to Hardcastle)

You know what that means, don’t you?

HARDCASTLE

(sprightly)

There’s hope?

Off McCormick’s look of annoyance we,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE McCRAY HOUSE—TWILIGHT

All is quiet. The image holds steady as the light fades in time-lapse to full night, pausing long enough for some night sounds, perhaps an owl, and the impression of peace. Then the time-lapse resumes and dawn comes, waxing quickly to full morning light, then returns seamlessly to real-time. Hardcastle’s truck drives into view from off-screen and pulls into the driveway. HANK climbs out, goes to the door, and rings the bell.

INT. THE KITCHEN—MORNING

The bell is ringing. McCray is at the counter, Hardcastle is sitting at the table, coffee cup in front of him. There’s a second cup across from him but McCormick is already on his feet. He sidles to the window and stands off to the side as he lifts the curtain slightly to peer through. There’s a moment’s inspection before he drops it and turns to Hardcastle.

McCORMICK

This won’t kill ya but it is gonna hurt.

(jerks a thumb toward the window)

Hank. The truck’s out front.

Hardcastle’s momentary interest deflates sharply. He sighs and lumbers to his feet.

McCORMICK

Maybe he’s working with Lovell. His place is kinda close to the cemetery.

HARDCASTLE

(grumbles)

Don’t try to cheer me up.

He reaches into his pocket, fishes out his wallet, and heads for the front hall. McCormick turns to McCray and shrugs.

McCORMICK

We’ve still got a few hours.

McCray nods solemnly and turns back to the sink. Hardcastle returns, holding a bill and shaking his head. He shakes his head and hands it to McCormick.

HARDCASTLE

Highway robbery.

McCORMICK

It’s spoiled you—having your own personal mechanic.

(glances at the bill, does a double take, his eyes going a little wide before he looks up again)

You sure the law school thing is such a hot idea? Look at these billable hours.

Hardcastle scowls.

McCORMICK

You’re just cranky ’cause nobody’s taken a shot at you yet.

HARDCASTLE

The fishing’s never that good from the pier. I think we gotta get out there and put our lines in the water.

McCORMICK

(doubtfully)

You and Kitty?

HARDCASTLE

Yeah—

(nods toward the front window)

we got the truck and everything; how’s that for convenient?

Off McCormick’s still doubtful look we,

CUT TO:

EXT. THE McCRAY HOUSE—DAY

Hardcastle and McCray exit.

ANGLE—PULL BACK

We see the truck parked in the drive with the Coyote further up the drive, only the rear end clearing the front of the house. The curtains are slightly parted on the front window closest to the driveway. McCormick is peering out. Hardcastle and McCray cross to the truck and climb in. It starts up, backs out onto the street and departs. McCormick watches for a few moments. There’s no sign of pursuit. The curtain drops back into place and a moment after that the door opens again and he emerges, heading for the Coyote.

ANGLE—McCORMICK APPROACHING COYOTE

We see there’s a piece of paper stuck under the windshield wiper. He pauses, then pulls it out and unfolds it.

ANGLE—FROM BEHIND HIM

There’s only a moment to see that it’s a blank piece of paper, before a gloved hand swings a short piece of pipe and strikes. McCormick falls forward onto the hood of the Coyote and slides down.

POV—THE ASSAILANT

McCormick lies crumpled against the Coyote. We hear heavy breathing from his attacker, the pipe hanging down at his side. He lets go. It clatters as it hits the ground,

CUT TO:

EXT. HARDCASTLE’S TRUCK, DRIVE BY—DAY

INT. HARDCASTLE”S TRUCK, MOVING—DAY

Hardcastle seems pleased to be behind the wheel again. McCray, sitting next to him, looks at the passenger side-mirror and then back over her shoulder.

HARDCASTLE

(casts a glance her way, and then frowns briefly at the rearview mirror)

Don’t worry. He’s just hanging back. It’s hard to be inconspicuous in that firecracker of his.

McCray sighs and nods.

EXT. THE DO DROP INN—DAY

The truck pulls up and parks.

INT. THE DO DROP INN—DAY

It’s a bustling Monday morning, but the casual conversations come to a sudden halt as Hardcastle and McCray come through the door. Nearly everyone is staring their way. The looks are partly curious, with a smattering of cool-to-hostile. A few remember their manners after a moment and resume whatever they were doing; others continue to stare openly. Hardcastle stares right back, scanning the small crowd with apparent interest. Maggie swoops down on Kitty and gives her a pat on the shoulder.

MAGGIE

How you holding up?

McCRAY

(loud enough so it will be general knowledge)

I’m fine.

MAGGIE

So you’re going through with it?

McCray nods stiffly. Hardcastle breaks away from his study of the café patrons and looks questioningly at Maggie.

HARDCASTLE

No Bill Lovell this morning?

MAGGIE

Huh?

(looking around quickly and then:)

No, guess not. Must be busy. Don’t think we’ve ever had anybody dug up before.

(beat, almost an afterthought)

And Lester. He’ll need arrangements.

(another beat, and then)

You two want some coffee?

McCray looks to Hardcastle,

HARDCASTLE

(shakes his head)

Thanks, no. Got a couple more errands before the crew gets here.

He glances at the café crowd again and gives them a neighborly wave as he turns to leave.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE DO DROP INN—DAY

Hardcastle and McCray exit and are standing in front. Hardcastle looks around as though he’s trying not to look like he’s doing just that.

HARDCASTLE

(quietly, to McCray without looking at her)

You said he’s here every morning?

McCRAY

Yeah. No exceptions.

HARDCASTLE

Then either he’s got something really important to do—or he’s bolted.

McCray looks alarmed.

HARDCASTLE

(glancing at her)

And that’d be as good as a confession.

(beat)

I’d kinda like to find out which it is. Don’t want him to get too much of a head start.

(looks around again and mutters)

Where the hell’s McCormick?

CUT TO:

CLOSE UP—McCORMICK

His shoulder’s being shaken and his eyes open—half-mast for a moment.

McCORMICK

(groggily)

Wha—?

ANGLE—PULL BACK

McCormick is still lying in the driveway alongside the Coyote. The person doing the shaking is Deputy Miller. He tries again.

MILLER

Come on. Rise and shine.

McCormick’s eyes jerk open. He reaches up to touch his scalp and winces.

MILLER

I think somebody slugged ya. Did you see anyone?

McCORMICK

(now awake and trying to sit up and look around)

What time is it?

(looks at Miller)

Did you see Hardcastle?

MILLER

Yeah. He left with Kitty.

McCormick scowls at him and scrambles awkwardly to his feet, then leans on the Coyote.

McCORMICK

(sharply)

How long?

MILLER

(looks at his watch)

‘bout twenty minutes. I dunno. I was supposed to watch you.

McCORMICK

Then how come you let somebody whack me in the head?

(tries to get fully upright again, puts his hand to his forehead)

MILLER

(points vaguely off past the house)

I was watching. You came out, walked around the side of the house. Car stayed put—so I did, too. Didn’t see anybody.

McCORMICK

(mutters)

Great. Just great.

(gets one foot over the sill, then the other, and slides into the seat)

MILLER

Hey, where you going?

McCORMICK

(looking up at Miller)

You’re supposed to follow me, right?

Miller nods.

McCORMICK

Then follow me.

McCormick revs the Coyote and Miller jumps back. McCormick puts the car into gear, turns stiffly, but then backs out in a quick, fluid movement. Miller’s already jogging back toward the corner.

CUT TO:

EXT. HARDCASTLE’S TRUCK—MOVING—DAY

On a quiet bit of road, approaching Lovell’s funeral home and turning in to the drive.

INT. THE TRUCK—STATIONARY—DAY

Hardcastle is studying the rearview mirror, then taking a long, surveying look down the road.

McCRAY

(noticing what he’s doing)

What?

HARDCASTLE

(turns away from the window to face McCray)

One thing about the Coyote, if you don’t see it, it isn’t there.

(beat)

It isn’t there. It hasn’t been there.

He taps the steering wheel for a moment, then reaches for the shift. At that moment, a dark, late-model sedan careens into the drive behind him and pulls up close before slamming to a stop. The door opens and Bill Lovell climbs out, approaching Hardcastle’s side of the truck. Lovell looks perturbed. Hardcastle doesn’t appear entirely unhappy about the turn of events as Lovell draws even with the window on his side.

LOVELL

(ignoring Hardcastle)

Kitty, we need to talk.

McCRAY

(controlled)

About what?

Lovell paces around the front of the vehicle to McCray’s side. Hardcastle looks less satisfied with this arrangement.

LOVELL

About Erma. About this nonsense. Digging her up after all this time. It’s been months.

McCRAY

I wanted it done right away.

LOVELL

Why? Everyone knows she died of natural causes. Ask any of them!

He’s sounding increasingly desperate but hasn’t done anything overtly threatening yet. Hardcastle eases his own door open and steps down. He edges forward along the truck. Lovell is completely absorbed.

LOVELL

There’s just no reason to disturb her grave. None.

McCray is looking at Lovell stonily. Hardcastle rounds the front of the truck and is only a few feet away. Lovell darts a quick look at him.

LOVELL

(angrier now)

It’s your fault, egging her on like this.

McCRAY

It was my decision.

LOVELL

(to Hardcastle)

Everything was fine.

McCRAY

No, it wasn’t.

Lovell finally turns back toward her. He plunges his right hand into his jacket pocket.

LOVELL

Just let her rest in peace.

McCray stares defiantly.

LOVELL

Please.

Lovell’s hand comes up, almost imperceptibly. Hardcastle charges forward, barreling into him.

HARDCASTLE

(shouts to McCray)

Get down!

McCray scrambles to get out of the way. Lovell is knocked against the truck but already has the gun out. One shot goes off in the struggle before Hardcastle can land a solid punch. Lovell is knocked sideways and the gun flies free. As Hardcastle lunges for it, we hear the distant but fast-approaching sound of sirens. Lovell staggers to his feet and makes for his sedan. He’s in it and out on the road before the Coyote comes rocketing over the rise and skids to a halt at the drive. McCormick starts to scoot up from his seat.

HARDCASTLE

(gesturing wildly in the direction Lovell fled)

Go get him!

McCormick slides back into his seat and guns the Coyote, screeching away just as the first of the sheriff’s cars comes into view.

ANGLE—McCORMICK’S POV—SECOND UNIT SEQUENCE

The chase is on. All we see at first is a cloud of dust a quarter mile ahead on the country road, but with the roar of gear changes McCormick gains steadily until we can make out the rear of Lovell’s sedan. It’s an all-out pursuit played for as long as it holds, but the sedan is no match for the Coyote. After a final sharp corner, it tries to avoid ramming a flatbed truck parked in the roadway, destabilizing into a full roll and crashing through a fence.

ANGLE—LOVELL’S SEDAN, OFF THE ROAD, WHEELS UP

The Coyote control-skids to the edge of the road. McCormick is up and out of his seat, running to the crashed vehicle and hauling Lovell out through the upside-down driver’s window.

ANGLE—PULL BACK

McCormick stands, half-supporting a stunned Lovell. We can now see the sedan crashed through a part of the cemetery fence and the flatbed belongs to the cluster of men standing by Erma’s grave, the digging equipment already off-loaded and being used. They’ve stopped to stare at the intrusion. Two sheriff’s vehicles, running lights and sirens, race up, and close behind them is Hardcastle’s truck, putting Hank’s repair job to the test. It scoots past the official vehicles and tucks into a space by the damaged fence. Hardcastle’s head is out the window.

HARDCASTLE

Got him?

McCORMICK

(wearily)

Got him.

Deputy Miller approaches. McCormick hands Lovell off. Hardcastle climbs out and is next to the truck as Miller marches Lovell past.

HARDCASTLE

(to Lovell, with a duck of his chin toward the workers)

I told ‘em to start first thing this morning.

(he glances over at the progress, then back at Lovell)

Shouldn’t be long, now.

Lovell looks pale. McCray has now joined Hardcastle, and her expression is indecipherable. Lovell meets her stare for a moment and then breaks off, allowing Miller to tug him along toward one of the sheriff’s cars. Hardcastle lets out a sigh. Sheriff Larcom steps out of his cruiser, surveying the chaos like a man who is looking at a heap of reports that will need writing. He walks over to Hardcastle, who reaches into the cab of the truck and pulls out the handgun he took from Lovell.

HARDCASTLE

He fired it. Lucky he didn’t hit anything.

Larcom pulls a pencil out of his shirt pocket, hooks the weapon by its finger guard, holds it up, dangling, and studies at it with a pinched expression. Then he turns and walks away with it. Hardcastle watches him for a moment, then glances over his shoulder and then turns to face McCormick, who is a few feet behind him, leaning against the Coyote.

HARDCASTLE

What took you so long?

McCORMICK

You said you didn’t want me following too close, right?

HARDCASTLE

Yeah.

McCORMICK

Well, neither did he.

McCormick reaches up and touches the back of his head, wincing slightly. Hardcastle frowns. McCray, who’s been staring fixedly toward the activity now resuming by her grandmother’s grave, turns and walks toward it. After a moment’s hesitation, Hardcastle, and then McCormick, follow.

ANGLE—THE WORKERS

The excavation is mostly complete. Looks as though Hardcastle spared no expense; it’s a well-equipped crew. One man climbs out of the hole.

WORKER #1

(to crew)

Got it.

FOREMAN

(to man operating winch)

Take ‘er up.

There’s some portable machinery noise, the hoisting chains tighten, and a moment later the casket is lifted free. The men reach out and maneuver it onto the grass. The chains go slack and are unhooked. One of the workers starts wiping down the casket, another is backing a utilitarian-looking hearse into position. McCray is standing nearby, with Hardcastle next to her and McCormick just behind him.

McCRAY

(to the crew)

Wait. I want to see her.

The foreman darts a look her way, then a longer one, accompanied by a subtle shake of his head, at Hardcastle—he thinks this is a bad idea.

HARDCASTLE

(gently)

It’s been three months.

McCRAY

I never got to see her. She was just…gone.

HARDCASTLE

This is not the way you want to remember her.

McCray’s not budging.

McCORMICK

(he gets this—leaning in toward Hardcastle, he speaks quietly)

All you know is that they’re gone and you never get to see them again. It’s not real.

HARDCASTLE

(back at McCormick, out of the side of his mouth)

Well, this’ll be plenty real.

(to the crew)

Hold on a sec. I wanna do a quick visual confirmation. Open it up.

The workers look to the foreman, who gives them the nod. A couple of guys produce tools and go to work on the fasteners. They step back a moment later.

FOREMAN

(to Hardcastle)

All yours.

The casket is facing hinge side toward the camera’s POV.

HARDCASTLE

(to McCray, last-ditch plea)

Wait here a sec, will ya?

McCRAY

I need—

(she stops—she’s not sure what she needs but it’s not likely to be found in that box—she shakes her head)

I have to see.

She steps forward with him, walking around to the other side. McCormick hesitates and then follows, taking a position at the head of the casket. Everybody seems to be holding their breaths. McCormick gets the nod from Hardcastle and lifts. McCray doesn’t avert her eyes but as the lid rises she blinks once and then gasps. McCormick is looking somewhere other than there. Hardcastle stares for a full second and then lifts his head.

HARDCASTLE

(hollers)

Sheriff!

McCormick is startled, instinctively looks down, and almost loses his grip on the lid. Larcom is striding over. McCray is shaking. Hardcastle has his arm around her shoulders.

LARCOM

(sees casket lid up)

What the hell are you—?

HARDCASTLE

(points to the unseen contents of the casket)

You got two bodies in here.

LARCOM

(leaning in from the side, his glance becomes a stare)

Evie McCray?

(he breaks off and shakes his head,

then suddenly, all business again, to the workers:)

Close it up. We’ll get an evidence seal on it. I’ll put a call in to the M.E.

(to McCray)

Kitty, I’m—

She waves him away and buries her face in Hardcastle’s shoulder as McCormick lowers the lid gently. Frame that tableau—three figures, now still. Then the camera pulls back. The shot goes aerial to take in everyone else resuming motion: the workers scurrying to finish their job, Larcom striding off giving his men their instructions, Lovell being cuffed and led away. Hold on that distance shot, as the wheels of justice have begun to turn again and,

FADE TO BLACK

NEXT ACT