by David Mamet

INT. FIRST FUNERAL PARLOR - DAY

A working-class funeral in progress. THIRTY PEOPLE and an

inexpensive bier SEEN from the back of the hall.

ANGLE

A MAN's back FILLS the SCREEN. He is dressed in a black suit;

his hands are clasped behind him. ANOTHER MAN stands next to

him. The Second Man reaches behind the First Man's back and

puts a discreetly folded ten-dollar bill into his hands.

ANGLE

These Two Men from the front. Both somber, in their early

fifties. They begin to walk down the aisle of the funeral

parlor.

ANGLE

The WIDOW. A woman in her late fifties sitting by the bier

receiving condolences. The Two Men approach her. The First

Man (the recipient of the money) speaks:

FUNERAL DIRECTOR

Mrs. Dee, this is Frank Galvin --a

very good friend of ours, and a

very fine attorney.

GALVIN

It's a shame about your husband,

Mrs. Dee.

The Widow nods.

GALVIN

I knew him vaguely through the

Lodge. He was a wonderful man.

(shakes head in sympathy) It was

a crime what happened to him. A

crime. If there's anything that I

could do to help ...

GALVIN removes a business card from his jacket pocket and hands

it to her as if he were giving her money. (i.e., "Take it.

Really. I want you to have it ..." She takes the card. Beat.

GALVIN

(thoughtfully

realizes he is

usurping her time)

Well ...

He shakes her hand and moves on.

INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

Galvin sitting in the deserted coffee shop in his raincoat.

Reading a section of the paper. He picks up his teacup, drinks.

Lowers it to the table.

ANGLE - INSERT

Galvin twists tea bag around a spoon to extract last drops of

tea. His hand moves to his felt pen lying on the table. He

moves his hand to the paper, open at the obituary section. We

SEE several names crossed out. He circles one funeral listing.

ANGLE

Galvin sitting, raises cup of tea to his lips. Looks around

deserted coffee shop. Sighs.

INT. SECOND FUNERAL HOME AND STREET - AFTERNOON

Galvin outside a second funeral home. WORKING-CLASS PEOPLE

entering, Galvin enters the home.

ANGLE

Galvin, coming down the aisle toward the front, shrugging

himself out of his overcoat, he approaches the BEREAVED WIDOW

sitting by the front of the home, he extracts his card from

his pocket, starts to speak. He is stopped by the WIDOW'S

SON, a hefty man in his mid-forties, who interjects himself

between Galvin and the widow.

SON

(of the card)

What is that ...?

GALVIN

I ...

SON

What the hell is that ...

GALVIN

... I was a friend of your fa...

SON

You never knew my father.

(hits card out of

Galvin's hand)

You get out of here, who the hell

do you think you are ...

The FUNERAL MANAGER hurries down the aisle, and starts

extricating Galvin from the commotion.

GALVIN

(to Funeral Manager)

I'm talking to this man ...

FUNERAL MANAGER

Excuse me, Mrs. Cleary...

He is manhandling Galvin toward the back of the funeral parlor.

The Son calls after him:

SON

Who the hell do you think you are?

EXT. SECOND FUNERAL PARLOR - AFTERNOON

The Funeral Manager and Galvin standing in the cold.

FUNERAL MANAGER

I don't want you coming back here.

Ever. Do you understand?

GALVIN

I was just talking to...

FUNERAL MANAGER

Those are bereaved people in there.

The Funeral Manager gives Galvin a small shove, and goes back

to his post at the door, greeting the entering mourners. "Good

evening..."

ANGLE

Galvin, the ground cut out from under him. Standing watching

the mourners enter.

EXT. SECOND FUNERAL STREET - DUSK

Galvin walking down a residential street. He has been walking

a while in the cold, snowy night. He stops for a stoplight at

a corner, waits for the light although there is no traffic.

Lights a cigarette. The light changes. He looks both ways

and irresolutely starts across the street. He stops. He checks

his watch. He sighs, and starts back in the opposite direction.

INT. O'ROURKE'S BAR - NIGHT

Galvin holding forth at the bar of a seedy drinking-man's

establishment, THREE DRINKERS, acquaintances, standing around

him, appreciative.

GALVIN

Pat says, 'Mike ... there's a new

bar, you go in, for a half a buck

you get a beer, a free lunch, and

then take you in the back room and

they get you laid.'

The bartender, JIMMY, comes up to Galvin.

JIMMY

Another, Frank . . . ?

GALVIN

(gestures to include

group)

...everybody. Mike says, `Pat,

you mean to tell me for a buck you

get a free lunch and a beer, and

then you go in the back and get

laid?' `That's correct.' Mike

says, `Pat. Have you been in this

bar ?' Pat says, `No, but my sister

has ...' (gestures to Jimmy)

Everyone. Buy yourself one too.

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE - NIGHT

The seedy, disorganized small office, Galvin in shirt-sleeves

opening a file cabinet. He takes out an armload of files,

carries them to a wastebasket and throws them in. He sits on

his desk, as if exhausted by his effort, pours from a whiskey

bottle into a large water glass, downs the glass. He has been

drinking for some time. He starts -- stumbling back to the

file cabinet. On the way his eye is caught by his degrees

hanging on the wall. He stumbles to them, picks them up and

walks over to the wastebasket and throws them in. He goes

back to the file cabinet, the phone starts ringing. Galvin

lets it ring, continues emptying the files into the wastebasket,

tearing some of them up as he does so. He repeats softly to

himself, as a litany, "It doesn't make a bit of difference, it

doesn't make a bit of difference ..." He starts back to the

desk for the bottle, knocks the still-ringing phone off the

desk. He pours himself a drink. As he downs it we hear --

softly -- from the phone on the floor: a MAN'S VOICE. "Frank.

Frank. Frank. Goddamnit. Are you there ...? Frank ..."

Galvin pays no attention. Drinks his drink and gazes at the

wall -- now empty of degrees.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

The empty wall. Galvin's P.O.V. The telephone heard Voice

Over insisting, "Frank ..."

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE ANTEROOM - NIGHT

MICKEY MORRISSEY, a man in his late sixties, dressed in suit

and overcoat, looking worried, unlocks the door to the dark

anteroom. Looks around. Sees something in the next room.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

Galvin asleep on his couch, clothed as before. Covered in his

overcoat, the bottle and glass next to the couch on the floor,

the sound of the phone off the hook.

ANGLE

Mickey walks into the office. Stands looking at Galvin.

MICKEY

(harshly)

Get up.

(beat, more harshly)

Get up.

Galvin wakes up. Looks around. Swings his legs over the couch.

Drinks from the glass. Vacantly:

GALVIN

Hi, Mickey ...

MICKEY

What the hell do you think you're

doing ...? (surveys the wrecked

office) What's going on here ...?

GALVIN

Uh ...

MICKEY

Fuck you. I got a call today from

Sally Doneghy ...

GALVIN

... now who is that ...?

MICKEY

... You're 'sposed to be in court

in ten days and she's telling me

you haven't even met with them ...

GALVIN

Sally Doneghy, now who is that?

MICKEY

One lousy letter eighteen months

ago. . . .I try to throw a fuckin'

case your way ...

GALVIN

... hey, I don't need your charity

...

MICKEY

... I get these people to trust

you --they're coming here tomorrow

by the way --I get this expert

doctor to talk to you. I'm doing

all your fuckin' legwork -- and

it's eighteen months. You're

'sposed to be in court. I bet you

haven't even seen the file.

Galvin pours himself a drink.

GALVIN

Hey, what are you, my nanny?

Mickey walks to him, knocks the drink out of his hand and slaps

him several times in the face.

MICKEY

Listen to me. Listen to me

...listen to me, Frank, 'cause I'm

done fuckin' with you. I can't do

it any more. Look around you:

You think that you're going to

change? What's going to change

it? You think it's going to be

different next month? It's going

to be the same. And I have to

stop. This is it. I got you a

good case, it's a moneymaker. You

do it right and it will take care

of you. But I'm through. I'm

sorry, Frank, this is the end.

(beat) Life is too short, and I'm

too old. (Beat)

Mickey walks out of the office. Slams the door. Beat. Galvin

looks around the office. Goes to his sofa. Sits, reaches to

side table.

ANGLE - INSERT

The side table, a pack of Luckies. Galvin taking one, his

hand shaking a little. Also on side table a pile of change

containing a small rosary and a wedding ring.

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE ANTEROOM - INSERT - DAY

The carriage of a typewriter. A sheet of paper. Its letterhead

reads "Frank P. Galvin. Attorney at Law, 124 State Street,

Boston, Mass. 02981. Cable FRAGAL." Someone is typing, "Sorry

I had to go out. Back at 10. Judge Geary called. Are you

available for lunch Wednesday University Club?" A hand takes

a paper from carriage and puts it on desk. Takes a pen and

signs, "Claire."

ANGLE

Galvin in the anteroom, dressed in his suit, unshaved, having

just signed the paper. He takes a piece of Scotch tape from

the dispenser on the desk, picks up a file folder from the

coffee table. It is torn in several places and rudely Scotch-

taped.

ANGLE - P.O.V. - INSERT

The file headed Deborah Ann Kaye v. St. Catherine Laboure

Hospital et. al.

ANGLE

Galvin surveys the anteroom, opens door to corridor, Scotch

tapes the note he has just typewritten to the outside of the

door.

INT. O'ROURKE'S BAR - DAY

Dark paneling, clean, simple. A drinkers' bar. OLD BARTENDER

and THREE CUSTOMERS spaced widely, Galvin in his overcoat

downing a shot, the file open before him. He is reading. He

checks his watch, scoops the file together under his arm, throws

a dollar on the bar, and heads for the door.

INT. NORTHERN NURSING HOME CORRIDOR - DAY

Galvin walking tentatively down the corridor of a very run-

down nursing home. He receives suspicious looks from the

Attendants. He is checking numbers on the doors against a

notation in the file. He finds the correct door and enters.

INT. NURSING HOME WARD - DAY

The door to the ward from the inside. Galvin opening the door

to the dark ward, backlit, tentative, a little unsteadied from

his drinking. He puts his back against the door, puts down

file and briefcase, extracts a small cheap Polaroid camera

from the briefcase, readies it to shoot, picks up his

paraphernalia, and starts off down the ward. As he walks down

the ward he checks the file hung at the foot of each bed.

Galvin stops at the foot of one bed and reads the chart.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

The chart held by Galvin. DEBORAH ANN KAYE, various medical

notations. He lowers the chart and we SEE in the bed beyond

it a shrivelled, tiny form stuck with needles and tubes.

ANGLE

Galvin replaces the chart, puts his file, briefcase, etc. on

the foot of the bed, takes a flash photo of the figure in the

bed. Takes another one. Puts down camera, sits on the end of

the bed gazing at the unseen form. He lights a cigarette, and

sits looking at her.

INT. CORRIDOR - GALVIN'S OFFICE BUILDING - DAY

SALLY DONEGHY. A mousy woman in her forties is standing by a

door on which is written, "Frank P. Galvin. Attorney at Law."

GALVIN

I'm ... Mrs. Doneghy? I'm Frank

Galvin ... why didn't you go in?

SALLY

It's locked.

GALVIN (ASTONISHED)

It's locked?

Sally Doneghy points to the note on the door. Galvin takes it

from the door. Reads. "Back at 10, Judge Geary. Lunch ..."

GALVIN

I'm terribly sorry ... I hope we

didn't put you out. Won't you

come in ...? (motions Sally into

inner office, gestures with note)

I'd offer you some coffee, but it

looks like my girl just went out.

INT. OFFICE ANTEROOM - DAY

Galvin is perched at his secretary's desk. Sally Doneghy across

from him by the coffee table listening intently.

GALVIN

It's not a good case. It's a very

good case. A healthy young woman

goes into the hospital to deliver

her third child, she's given the

wrong anaesthetic ...

SALLY

... we, we love her, Dick and me

...

GALVIN

... I'm sure you do ...

SALLY

But what can we do? She don't

know who's visiting her ...

GALVIN

... I know. I went ...

SALLY

... You saw her?

GALVIN

Yes. Yes, I have.

SALLY

You know how beautiful she was?

(beat) Her husband left her, and

he took her kids .... They, they,

they'd let you die in there. They

don't care. Nobody cares. The

Patriot Home, the Chronic Care ...

in Arlington ...? They'd take her

in. Perpetual care. They'd take

her. Fifty thousand dollars they

want. An endowment.

GALVIN

... fifty thousand dollars?

SALLY

I don't want to leave her. Dick

...the, the ... and Father Laughlin,

he said that it was God's will ...

GALVIN

... I understand ...

SALLY

My doctor told me that I got to

move out West ... that's when we

filed in court. We didn't want to

sue ...

GALVIN

... I understand ...

SALLY

... But Dick, he's looking for two

years in Tucson ... and they called

him up and said to come out.

He's a good man. He's only trying

to do what's right.

The door to the corridor opens and DICK DONEGHY, a workingman

in his forties, comes into the room. Sally and Galvin stand.

SALLY

This is my husband.

Donegy and Galvin shake hands uncomfor-tably. He motions the

two to sit.

GALVIN

Please sit down. I told your wife.

I'm sorry that we have to meet out

here. I've got a case coming in

two days in the Superior Court

and my office is a mess of papers.

DONEGHY

... that's all right.

GALVIN

I was telling your wife, we have a

very good case here.

SALLY

He saw her at the Northern Care...

GALVIN

... and I have inquiries out to

doctors, experts in the field ...

there is, of course, a problem

getting a doctor to testify that

another doctor's negligent ...

DONEGHY

...the Archdiocese called up, they

said who was our attorney, 'cause

the case is coming to trial...

GALVIN

I doubt we'll have to go to trial

...

DONEGHY

... we told them we didn't want it

to come out this way.

GALVIN

I completely understand ...

DONEGHY

We just ...

SALLY

We just can't do it anymore. (beat)

This is our chance to get away.

GALVIN

I'm going to see you get that

chance.

DONEGHY

What is this going to cost?

GALVIN

It's completely done on a

contingency basis. That means

whatever the settlement is I retain

one-third ...that is, of course,

the usual arrangement ...

INT. BISHOP BROPHY'S SUITE--INSERT DAY 15

Yellowed newspaper clipping, a very lovely, patrician woman in

her twenties smiling at a well-turned-out Galvin around thirty.

Headline: "Patricia Harrington to Wed."

ALITO (VOICE OVER)

`His name is Frank Galvin. B.U.

Law, class of 'fifty-two. Second

in his class. Editor of the Law

Review. Worked with Mickey

Morrissey twelve years. Criminal

Law and Personal Injury ...'

A hand turns a page and reveals a second clipping: "Boston

Lawyer Held in Jury Tampering Case," with a picture of a very

confused Galvin at around forty-five being led to jail.

ALITO

'Married Patricia Harrington,

nineteen sixty ...'

ANGLE

The small, sumptuously appointed Italianate office. French

windows, a fire in the grate, a view of Boston Common, JOSEPH

ALITO, a slender, elegant man in his forties dressed in a very

expensive suit, reading from his notes, news clippings, etc.,

which are held in a leather folder.

ALITO

`Joined Stearns, Harrington, Pierce

nineteen sixty as a full partner.

Resigned the firm nineteen sixty-

nine over the Lillibridge case

...' Do you ...?

Alito, strolling as he reads, moves toward the windows with

his file TO REVEAL BISHOP BROPHY, a self-contained man in his

early sixties, sitting on a leather couch, listening.

BISHOP

He was accused of jury tampering.

ALITO

Accused. Not indicted. He resigned

the firm. Divorced nineteen

seventy. Galvin worked with Michael

Morrissey until Morrissey retired

in 'seventy-eight. Since then

he's been on his own. Four cases

before the Circuit Court. He lost

them all. He drinks.

BISHOP

Four cases in three years ...

ALITO

The man's an ambulance chaser ...

BISHOP

... tell me about this case.

ALITO

This is a nuisance suit. He's

looking for small change. He's

asking for six hundred thousand

and betting we don't want to go to

court.

BISHOP

No -- we don't want this case in

court.

ALITO

Neither does he. That's where he

loses. This man's scared to death

to go to court. We only have to

call his bluff.

BISHOP

I want to settle this thing and be

done with it. I don't want the

Archdiocese exposed.

ALITO

No. Absolutely, and we're going

to see that it is not.

BISHOP

So what I want to do is stop it

here. I'm going to make him an

offer. I want to do it myself. I

want it to come from me.

ALITO

All right. But let's keep the

price down. I've called Ed

Concannon. He recommends that we

continue to respond as if we're

going to trial.

The Bishop nods, meaning, "You are dismissed." As an

afterthought:

BISHOP

If we were to go to trial, would

we win the case?

ALITO

Well, of course, it's always

dangerous ...

BISHOP

I know that answer. If we went to

trial would we win?

ALITO

(in an "of course"

tone)

Yes.

Alito, preparing to leave, reaches to the Bishop's desk, where

he has laid his leather folder.

ANGLE

The clipping in the folder, confused Galvin being led into

jail, "Boston Lawyer Held in Jury Tampering Case." Alito's

hand snaps the folder shut.

INT. GALVIN'S OFFICE BUILDING CORRIDOR - DAY

A man's arms full of textbooks. Prominently displayed:

"Methodology and Practice in Anesthesiology." The man stops,

fumbles for a key in his pocket.

ANGLE

Galvin, in his overcoat, arms full of books, reading from a

textbook and trying to unlock his office door.

INT. OFFICE

Galvin entering. CLAIRE PAVONE, a woman in her fifties, at

the secretary's desk, hanging up the phone.

CLAIRE

(to phone)

Thank you very much.

Galvin looks up at her in surprise.

GALVIN

What are you doing here?

CLAIRE

Mickey told me to come back to

work.

Galvin nods, proceeds into his office, reading from the

textbook. Claire follows him into the office.

CLAIRE

... here's your mail, call Mrs.

Doneghy ...

GALVIN

... yes. Get her on the phone ...

CLAIRE

... that was a Dr. David Gruber's

office ...

GALVIN

(putting down books)

Gruber...

CLAIRE

Mickey told him to call. (reading

from notes) 'He's some very hotshot

surgeon at Mass. Commonwealth. He

wants to meet with you at seven

tonight re testimony in the case

of Deborah Ann Kaye. You meet him

at the hospital.'

She hands him typed memo slip.

GALVIN

(surprised)

... he wants to testify ...?

CLAIRE

It looks that way.

GALVIN

You know what that would mean? To

get somebody from a Boston hospital

to say he'll testify?

CLAIRE

... a Mrs. Doneghy called ... I

told you that.

Phone rings. Claire moves to it.

GALVIN (DELIGHTED)

This is going to drive the ante

up.

CLAIRE (INTO PHONE)

Frank Galvin's ... who's calling

please? Bishop Brophy's office

...

She gestures to Galvin, "Do you want to talk to them?" Galvin

gestures back, "No. I'm not in ..."

CLAIRE

I'm sorry, he's not in ... may I

take a mess ... tomorrow when, two

o'clock ...I'll check my book ...

She looks to Galvin, who nods, "yes."

CLAIRE

Yes. Mr. Galvin's clear at that

time ....the Bishop's office,

tomorrow, the fifth at two p.m.

Thank you ...

She hangs up.

GALVIN

That's the call that I'm waiting

for.

CLAIRE

What does it mean?

GALVIN

They want to settle. (beat) It

means a lot of money.

CLAIRE

Does that mean I'm back for awhile?

INT. GRUBER'S HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - INSERT - NIGHT

Man's wrist. WWII GI watch reads: 6:56.

ANGLE

Galvin in overcoat standing outside door marked "Doctors Only"

in bustling hospital corridor. He glances at memo slip in his

hand. He opens door. CAMERA FOLLOWS him onto:

INT. GRUBER'S DOCTORS LOCKER ROOM - NIGHT

Carpeted, small, comfortable, lined in lockers. A DOCTOR, on

the phone in greens, smoking a cigarette, talking on the phone

softly, a couple of DOCTORS sitting, drinking coffee, chatting.

Galvin, a trifle nervous, to Doctor ON PHONE:

GALVIN

Dr. Gruber ...?

The Doctor on the phone gestures behind him to a thirty-ish

MAN in blue jeans smoking a cigar, changing at his locker.

Galvin walks over to him.

GALVIN

Dr. Gruber ...

GRUBER (TURNING)

Yes? Galvin, right?

He checks his watch, continues changing into suede jacket,

checks next appointment on a leather appointment book, locks

the locker, pockets key.

GALVIN

I appreciate--a man as busy as--

GRUBER

That's perfectly all right. I'm

kind of rushed. Do you mind if we

walk while we talk?

Gruber, Galvin following, talk while exiting locker room.

INT. GRUBER'S HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - NIGHT

GRUBER

I read the hospital report on your

client.

GALVIN

... Deborah Ann Kaye ...

GRUBER

... Deborah Ann Kaye ...

They walk hurriedly through a hospital corridor, to an EXIT

door and down concrete stairs.

INT. GRUBER'S HOSPITAL STAIRS - NIGHT

GALVIN

They called, they're going to

settle, what I want to do is build

up as much ...

GRUBER

Right. Who called?

GALVIN

The Archdiocese called, they want

to settle ... her estate ...

GRUBER

... and you're going to do that?

GALVIN

(surprised, of course)

Yes.

GRUBER

You're going to settle out of court?

Gruber stops at the bottom of the stairs, beside an exit to

the outside.

GALVIN

Yes.

GRUBER

Why?

A beat.

GALVIN

(it's a meaningless

question to him,

as if to a child)

Uh ... in the, well, in the

interests of her family ... you,

Dr. Gruber, you know, you can never

tell what a jury is going to do.

St. Catherine's a very well thought

of institution. Her doctors ...

GRUBER

(glances at watch,

impatient)

Her doctors killed her.

GALVIN

(A BEAT))

I'm sorry ...?

GRUBER

Her doctors murdered her. They

gave her the wrong anaesthetic and

they put her in the hospital for

life. (a beat) Her doctors

murdered her.

GALVIN

Do you know who her doctors were?

GRUBER

I read the file. Yeah. Marx and

Towler. I know who they were.

GALVIN

The most respected ...

GRUBER (SMILING)

Whose side are you arguing ...? I

thought that you wanted to do

something. I don't have any

interest in the woman's 'estate' --

No offense, but we all know where

the money's going to ... I have

an interest in the Hospital; and

I don't want those bozos working

in the same shop as me. They gave

her the wrong anesthetic. They

turned the girl into a vegetable.

They killed her and they killed

her kid. You caught 'em. Now:

how many others did they kill?

A beat. Gruber discards end of a cigar. Takes a leather case

from his suede jacket, extracts a new cigar. Offers one to

Galvin.

GRUBER

You want a cigar?

Galvin takes one absently.

GALVIN

The hospital is owned by the

Archdioceses of ...

GRUBER

What are they going to do? Not

invite me to their Birthday party

...? (checks watch) Look, I gotta

go. I have to be in Cambridge ...

Galvin, excited, is trying to light the cigar. His hand shakes

badly. He has forgotten to bite off the end. He bites it,

lights the cigar.

GALVIN

Well, well, when can we meet again.

I'd like to get a deposition..

GRUBER

Okay. I'll meet you here. Tuesday

night ... I gotta go. You going

my way?

Galvin shakes his head.

EXT. GRUBER'S HOSPITAL PARKING AREA - NIGHT

Gruber opens door and walks out into the cold, into the parking

lot, followed by Galvin, who is lighting his cigar.

GALVIN

We have to ... we ... we have to

keep you under wraps. Please don't,

don't discuss ...

GRUBER

I understand.

GALVIN

... the case with anyone. And

I'll meet you Tuesday, and we'll

go over your testimony ...

They stop before a 1950s very beautiful small Mercedes Sedan.

Gruber opens the door, gets into the plush red leather interior,

starts car, leaves door open, still talking to Galvin.

GRUBER

Right. Seven o'clock. Here.

Galvin scribbles information in his appointment book.

GALVIN

Thank you ...

GRUBER

... that's perfectly all right.

GALVIN

(beat)

Uh, why, why are you doing this?

GRUBER

(thinks a second)

To do right. Isn't that why you're

doing it?

INT. O'ROURKE'S TAVERN - NIGHT

Galvin is at the bar, smiling to himself. His drink is being

refilled. To BARTENDER:

GALVIN

I want to buy you a drink.

JIMMY (THE BARTENDER)

Thanks, Franky.

Galvin looks around. A very attractive self-possessed YOUNG

WOMAN is sitting in the crook of the bar across from him; she

is intently perusing the newspaper and circling items with a

felt pen. Galvin speaks to her:

GALVIN

Would you like a drink?

She looks up. Smiles.

WOMAN

I'd like an apartment.

GALVIN

Settle for a drink?

She gestures at her own full glass in front of her.

WOMAN

No. Thank you.

Galvin shrugs.

GALVIN

I had a very good day today.

WOMAN

(beat, smiles, downs

drink, gets up off

the stool, sincerely)

I'm glad you did. Thank you.

Good night.

GALVIN

You're very welcome.

He watches her as she leaves the bar. He turns back to his

drink.

GALVIN

Well, well, well. Huh?

JIMMY

Yeah.

GALVIN

(sighs)

It's a long road that has no

turning.

JIMMY

That's for sure, Frank.

INT. GALVIN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

A shoddy one-and-a-half room bachelor apartment. Galvin, beer

and cigarettes on the table beside him. He is sitting on an

armchair in the bedroom. A yellow legal pad in his lap.

He is talking on the phone softly, soothingly.

GALVIN

I'm going to the Archdiocese

tomorrow at two. I know you don't.

I know you don't...no, you're just

following your life. You have a

life too...you have to move out

West. It doesn't help you to stay

here. Well...I'm sure she knows

you care for her.

His attention wanders to the legal pad in his lap.

ANGLE - P.O.V.

The legal pad. Spread on it a couple of Polaroids of Deborah

Ann in the nursing home. Below them, written on the pad, large,

"Dr. David Gruber. Ass't. Chief Anesthesiology, Mass.

Commonwealth. 'They killed her. And they killed her kid --

Her doctors murdered her.'"

The following figures are written on the pad: $150,000.00

written very large, circled, crossed out. $250,000.00 similarly

circled and crossed out. $225,000.00 circled many times.

GALVIN

(voice over; on

phone)

Well. Well. Well. Finally we're

none of us protected...we...we

just have to go on. To seek help

where we can...and go on...I know

that you love her...I know you're

acting out of love.

ANGLE - GALVIN ON THE PHONE

GALVIN

(into phone)

As soon as I know...you give him

my respects too. Not at all. Not

at all...Good night. (beat) Well,

bless you, too. Good night.

He hangs up phone, sighs. Lights a cigarette. Rotates his

neck to loosen it up. Reaches to the table next to his bed

for the bottle to pour a drink.

ANGLE - INSERT

His hand reaching for the bottle. On the table the photo of a

very beautiful blonde woman in a silver frame. She is the

same woman we saw earlier in the news clip. She is on the

deck of a sailboat, laughing. A pile of change on the table,

a money clip, a rosary, and the wedding ring in the pile of

change.

ANGLE

Galvin looking at the photo in the silver frame next to his

bed. He sighs deeply. Beat. Reaches up to the lamp above

his head and turns it off. He sits stiffly in the dark a

moment, then lets his head fall back to the chair.

INT. NORTHERN NURSING HOME WARD - DAY

Galvin, spruced up a bit, sitting on a bed, his briefcase on

his lap. Gazing at the unseen Deborah Ann Kaye in the dark

ward. Silent. Beat. He looks in his briefcase, takes out a

file.

ANGLE - P.O.V. - INSERT

The file, labeled Deborah Ann Kaye. Galvin extracting the

photo of the young mother romping with her two children; he

takes the yellow legal pad from his briefcase and puts it on

top of the picture (the figures crossed out; "Her doctors

murdered her," etc.).

We hear the door to the ward open and TWO IRISH WOMEN gossiping.

IRISH NURSE #1

(voice over)

Jimmy, I said, don't you go in

your pocket if there's nothing

there...

IRISH NURSE #2

(voice over)

...and what did he say...?

IRISH NURSE #1

(voice over; spies

Galvin, her tone

changes)

...Sir, you aren't allowed to be

in here...

ANGLE

Galvin sitting on the bed looking at Deborah Ann. He looks up

to the speaker. A slovenly Irish Nurse, who has come into the

room and is standing by him. The other Nurse is framed in the

doorway. Galvin is lost in thought.

NURSE

You can't be in here.

GALVIN

(as if remembering

something, simply)

I'm her attorney.

INT. BISHOP BROPHY'S OFFICE - DAY

The Bishop from the waist up, sitting behind his beautiful

desk. Compassionately:

BISHOP

It's a question of continuing

values. St. Catherine's -- to do

the good that she must do in the

community has to maintain the

position that she holds in the

community. So we have a question

of balance. On the one hand, the

reputation, and, so, the

effectiveness of our hospital, and

two of her important doctors --

and, on the other hand, the rights

of your client.

ANGLE

Galvin seated across from the Bishop. A YOUNG PRIEST seated,

discreetly, attentively, across the room. Sherry glasses in

front of Galvin and the Bishop. Galvin drinking from his.

BISHOP

A young woman. In her

prime...deprived of...(searches

for a word) ...life...sight...her

family...It's tragic. It's a tragic

accident.

Galvin has been dreaming.

BISHOP

...nothing, of course, can begin

to make it right. But we must do

what we can. We must do all that

we can.

He gestures to the Young Priest, who crosses the room, extracts

a sheet from a file folder, and places it before Galvin, who

is sitting as if in a dream. The Bishop waits a beat, not

wanting to interrupt Galvin's reverie, then catches his eye

and gestures down at the paper. Galvin glances down.

INSERT

The sheet: "I, Frank P. Galvin, duly appointed conservator

for Deborah Ann Kaye, in consideration of Two Hundred Ten

Thousand Dollars ($210,000.00) paid in hand to me this day by

St. Catherine Laboure Hospital do hereby release from any and

all claims..."

ANGLE

Galvin and the Bishop as before. Galvin finishes reading,

looks up.

BISHOP

Yes. We must try to make it right.

Beat. Galvin nods. Beat. Bishop nods discreetly to the Young

Priest who extracts Mount Blanc fountain pen from his pocket,

holds it out to Galvin.

BISHOP

It's a generous offer, Mr.

Galvin...(beat) ...nothing can

make the woman well...but we try

to compensate...to make a gesture...

GALVIN

How did you settle on the amount?

BISHOP

We thought it was just.

GALVIN

You thought it was just.

BISHOP

Yes.

GALVIN

Because it struck me how neatly

'three' went into the amount. Two

Hundred Ten Thousand. That would

mean I keep seventy.

BISHOP

That was our insurance company's

recommendation.

GALVIN

Yes. It would be.

A beat.

BISHOP

Nothing that we can do can make

that woman well.

GALVIN

And no one will know the truth.

BISHOP

What is the truth?

GALVIN

That that poor girl put her trust

in the hands of two men who took

her life, she's in a coma, her

life is gone. She has no family,

she has no home, she's tied to a

machine, she has no friends --and

the people who should care for

her: her Doctors, and you, and

me, have been bought off to look

the other way. We have been paid

to look the other way. I came in

here to take your money. (beat)

I brought snapshots to show you.

So I could get your money. (to

Young Priest, waving away document)

I can't take it. If I take it.

If I take that money I'm lost.

I'm just going to be a rich

ambulance chaser. (beat; pleading

for understanding) I can't do it.

I can't take it.

YOUNG PRIEST

If we may discuss money, Mr. Galvin.

How is your law practice?

GALVIN

It's not too good. I've only got

one client.

HOLD.

INT. LAWYERS ROOM AND CORRIDOR - DAY

Galvin, determined, coming down a corridor in the Courthouse,

opens a door. CAMERA FOLLOWS him IN. The Lawyers Room. Then

or twelve AMBULANCE CHASERS waiting for clients. They all

look up as he enters, then return to their reading, phones,

card games. CAMERA FOLLOWS him TO the corner of the room where

MICKEY MORRISSEY is playing Gin with a CRONY.

GALVIN

I have to talk to you.

MICKEY

What do you want?

GALVIN

(dragging him up)

Come on. Let's get a drink.

MICKEY

(sighs, to partner)

Don't touch anything.

Galvin leads Mickey out of the room.

INT. FIRST CORRIDOR COURTHOUSE - DAY

Mickey and Galvin silhouetted against a window at the end of

the dark corridor, arguing.

MICKEY (ENRAGED)

Are you out of your mind...?

GALVIN

...I'm going to need your help...

MICKEY

You need my help...? You need a

goddamn keeper...are you telling

me that you turned down two-hundred-

ten grand? (beat) Huh...? Are

you nuts? Eh? Are you nuts.

What are you going to do, bring

her back to life?

GALVIN

I'm going to help her.

MICKEY

To do what...? To do what, for

chrissake...? To help her to do

what? She's dead...

GALVIN

They killed her. And they're trying

to buy it...

MICKEY

That's the point, you stupid fuck.

Let them buy it. We let them buy

the case. That's what I took it

for. You let this drop -- we'll

go up to New Hampshire, kill some

fuckin' deer...

He turns away.

GALVIN

Mick. Mick. Mick...

MICKEY

What?

GALVIN

You -- Listen: you said to me,

`if not now, when...'

MICKEY

I know what I said but not now.

You won it. Franky. You won it.

When they give you the money, that

means that you won. We don't want

to go to court -- is this getting

to you...? You know who the

attorney is for the Archdiocese,

Eddie Concannon.

GALVIN

...he's a good man...

MICKEY

...he's a good man...? He's the

Prince of Fuckin' Darkness...he'll

have people in there testifying

that the broad is well -- they saw

her Tuesday on a surfboard at

Hyannis...don't fuck with this

case.

GALVIN

...I have to stand up for her...

MICKEY

Frank, but not now. Frank. You're

trying to wipe out some old

business. But not now. I

understand. But you go call 'em

back. You call the Bishop back.

GALVIN

I have to try this case. I have

to do it, Mick. I've got to stand

up for that girl. I need your

help. (beat) Mick, will you help

me...? (beat) Will you help me...?

INT. CONCANNON OFFICES CORRIDOR --DAY

A young ATTORNEY in shirt-sleeves and vest racing through a

huge, ultra-modern, ultra-successful legal office. The office

is near empty. A couple of secretaries are at their desks, a

couple of lawyers in their cubicles. The CAMERA FOLLOWS the

Attorney tearing through the corridors of the office, up a

spiral staircase, through yet more office space, into:

INT. CONCANNON CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

...a conference room. Mahogany, tinted glass, a panoramic

view of Boston. Twenty-five attorneys, male and female, mostly

young, gaze at the young Attorney as he enters the room. He

stops running. He approaches the front of the room tentatively.

Standing at the blackboard in front of the conference room is

EDWARD CONCANNON. Senior partner of the firm, late fifties,

imposing, he radiates success. As the young Attorney approaches

Concannon he is stopped with a gesture. Concannon addresses

the room.

CONCANNON(SMILING)

Anybody ever hear, 'For want of a

shoe a horse was lost?' Who's

going on vacation tomorrow?

A young MAN raises his hand.

CONCANNON

Friedman. St. Barts. is that

right?

FRIEDMAN

Yessir.

CONCANNON

(to secretary taking

notes at the side

of the room)

Se