HAUNTED
1X02: GRIEVOUS ANGEL
ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON UPN: 10/01/2002
TRANSCRIBED FROM UPN
Written by: ERIN MAHER & KAY REINDL
Directed by: JEFFREY REINER
Transcript by Intrepid
Courtesy of http://www.webphilia.com/~anthology/wnp.html
Please do not archive this transcript without permission from the
Transcriptionist
RATING: TV-PG-LV
==========================
DISCLAIMER:
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==========================
SUMMARY: Frank is hired to find a missing runaway teen who gets caught up in
the music scene.
==========================
HAUNTED
1X02: GRIEVOUS ANGELS
==========================
BLUR IN:
[INT. CLUB DESOLATION -- NIGHT]
(Camera slowly blurs into the scene while loud dance music blares in the
background. Lights flash and bodies move to the beat on the dance floor.)
(FRANK TAYLOR walks around the edges of the dance club looking for someone. He
heads for the bar and holds out a missing person's poster for him to look at.
It reads:
[ MISSING!
{black & white PHOTO of a girl}
PARIS EASTWAY
D.O.B. 2-8-84
HAIR - BLONDE * EYES - BLUE ...
IF YOU HAVE ANY INFORMATION ... ]
FRANK: You seen her around here?
BARTENDER: Sorry.
FRANK: Her name's Paris. She's been missing for three weeks and her parents
are really worried about her. She was into the scene.
BARTENDER: All I do is serve them drinks.
(FRANK steps away from the bar and heads back into the club where he mills about
looking around at the people. He walks down to the dance floor and looks
around.)
(Across the floor, there is a dark-haired woman standing still and staring at
FRANK. She catches his eye and he makes his way toward her.)
(She sees him walking toward her and she slowly backs up and away from him.
Finally, she turns and makes a break for the back door. FRANK sees her run out
the door and he runs after her, trying to catch up with her.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. ALLEYWAY BEHIND CLUB DESOLATION - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS]
(FRANK bursts through the door and into the darkened alleyway. Immediately, the
dance music in the background dies down and the soft lyrics of a woman's voice
takes precedence above even the sounds of the pouring rain.)
(FRANK runs down the alleyway and looks for any signs of the woman. Thunder
rumbles.)
FRANK: Paris!
PARIS: (singing softly): And time washes clean ...
(FRANK turns back and runs toward the stairs where the looks up and calls out.)
FRANK: Paris!
(FRANK steps out into the rain and stops as he finally notices the sounds of the
woman singing. He looks around.)
PARIS: (singing) ... Love's wounds unseen / that's what someone told me / ...
(FRANK turns around to look for the woman singing and at the far end of the
alleyway, he sees her standing there. He makes his way toward her and stops
about half way there.)
PARIS: (singing) ... but I don't know what it means / 'cause I've done
everything I know / to try and make you mine / ...
(From what he can see, PARIS stands there and stares at him, her mascara running
down her eyes as thick as blood.)
PARIS: (singing) ... and I think I'm gonna love you / for a long, long time.
(As soon as she finishes her song, PARIS disappears.)
FADE OUT TO:
END OF TEASER
ROLL TITLE CREDITS
INTRODUCTION:
Two years ago, my son was taken from me. Since then I've lost everything-- my
job, my marriage, even my life. But I came back, and the dead came with me.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[INT. RESTAURANT - DAY]
(FRANK reports back to PARIS EASTWAY'S parents.)
EMILY EASTWAY: We made more flyers and we've posted them everywhere.
JIM EASTWAY: We just need the right person to see it.
EMILY EASTWAY: You're not any closer to finding her, are you
FRANK: (sighs) I've hit all the clubs and I still don't have any leads on the
boyfriend. I can't believe I didn't get his name. I've, um, I've also talked
to her landlord several times and to the regulars at a nearby coffee shop but,
um, I still haven't come across anyone who knows Paris except her neighbors
who've just seen her coming and going.
JIM EASTWAY: I can't take this again.
(FRANK looks at them.)
FRANK: Again?
EMILY EASTWAY: : We lost our older daughter in a car accident a few years ago.
(He sighs.)
FRANK: I'm terribly sorry.
EMILY EASTWAY: After that, Paris lost her way -- drinking a little, staying out
late. We tried everything.
FRANK: Why didn't you tell me this before?
EMILY EASTWAY: We didn't want you to get the wrong idea about her.
JIM EASTWAY: Paris has some problems but she wouldn't just run off and leave us
to worry. She called us ... every week. Please ... find her.
(FRANK looks from one to the other. He nods.)
CUT TO:
[EXT./INT. CAR (MOVING) - STREET -- DAY]
(FRANK drives his car slowly down the street. He watches a woman help another
woman with a walker cross the street. He looks tot he side and notices a
weather-worn PARIS EASTWAY'S MISSING posted tacked onto the telephone pole.
Someone walks by and he watches as he tacks on a GARAGE SALE poster over it.)
PARIS: (softly) Wake up.
(FRANK is jarred awake and turns to look around in the back seat. There's no
one there.)
(Outside, a car horn honks.)
CUT TO:
[INT. TATTOO SHOP -- DAY]
(DANTE works on a customer's arm. FRANK walks in.)
DANTE: Frank.
FRANK: Hey, you're busy. I'll-I'll catch up with you later.
(FRANK doesn't leave.)
DANTE: I'm-I'm just finishing up. (to the CUSTOMER) Don't touch it. Keep it
clean, all right?
CUSTOMER: Pee, man.
(The customer stands up and leaves. DANTE takes off his gloves. FRANK walks
toward him.)
DANTE: What's up, brother?
FRANK: Not much.
DANTE: Did you see that game the other night?
FRANK: Yeah, but don't ask me what the score was.
(DANTE chuckles.)
DANTE: Preoccupied?
(FRANK sits down in the chair.)
FRANK: Working on this missing person's case. This girl. She's dead, but ...
I don't have any proof.
DANTE: Then how do you know she's dead?
FRANK: Well ... I've been seeing her. All the pieces are there. They just
don't add up. I-I can't find a body. Checked out all the Jane Does been to the
morgues ...
DANTE: Funeral parlors, graveyards and big-city morgues -- My grandmother used
to say they were the noisiest places on earth. She called them "gray zones"
because they were filled with unrequited spirits caught in transition.
FRANK: Limbo?
DANTE: Mm-hmm.
FRANK: Unable to move on or stay.
(FRANK sits up and looks at DANTE.)
FRANK: Till when?
DANTE: (sighs) I think that's where you come in.
CUT TO:
[INT. CLUB DESOLATION -- NIGHT]
(FRANK is back at the dance club having a drink and watching over the dance
floor. A YOUNG WOMAN walks up to him.)
TIERNEY: I heard you're looking for Paris.
FRANK: I am.
TIERNEY: I'm looking for her, too.
(They shake hands.)
FRANK: Frank Taylor. I'm a Private Investigator.
(She sits down at his table.)
TIERNEY: (smiles) You can call me Tierney.
FRANK: So, when was the last time you saw Paris, Tierney?
TIERNEY: It's been ... a while, I guess. We had a fight. I was wrong about
something. Anyway, we didn't talk after that ... but now I think something's
happened to her.
FRANK: Me, too.
TIERNEY: You're the first person that I've met who thinks that. Everybody else
just thinks she's vanished off the face of the earth. All I know is you're
looking in the wrong place, Frank. Paris was in the Scene.
FRANK: That's not this?
TIERNEY: This is just a place. It's Tuesday at the Mayan -- Synthpop and Brit
stuff. The Scene isn't a place.
FRANK: What, it's a state of mind?
TIERNEY: No. It's downstairs. A promoter put a velvet rope up called the club
desolation and lured the scene there.
FRANK: And that's where Paris was.
TIERNEY: (nods) Inside. That's where you've got to follow Paris. (pauses)
I've got to go.
(She stands up.)
FRANK: How do I get there? Inside?
TIERNEY: Same way she did. Down the rabbit hole.
(TIERNEY leaves.)
(FRANK turns and looks at the back door just as it slams shut. FRANK stands up
and looks at the door.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. ALLEYWAY BEHIND CLUB DESOLATION - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(FRANK opens the back door and walks outside. He closes the door and looks
around. Off to the side, another door opens. FRANK turns to look at the door
and heads toward it.)
(As he nears, PARIS can be heard singing.)
PARIS: (lyrics) But there's no one at my side /
(FRANK pulls the door open and walks inside. He walks through the hallway.)
PARIS: (lyrics)
and time washes clean / love's wounds unseen / that's what someone told me /
but I don't know what it means /
(FRANK reaches the end of the hallway and looks around. He takes a step back
and walks down another hallway.)
PARIS: (lyrics)
'cause I've done everything I know / to try and make you mine / and I think I'm
gonna love you / for a long, long time.
(At the end of the hallway is a closed door. FRANK walks up to the door and
tries it. It's locked. He turns to walk away, when the door suddenly opens.)
(Inside, loud dance music is playing.)
(FRANK walks inside. He closes the door behind him.)
CUT TO:
[INT. INSIDE - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(SLOW MOTION CAMERA)
(FRANK walks inside and looks around. He heads for the end of the bar where he
picks up a drink and takes a seat as if he belongs there.)
(In the seat behind his are two women. One of them smiles at him and introduces
herself.)
NICHELLE: Nichelle.
FRANK: Frank.
NICHELLE: You with the record company?
FRANK: No, I, uh...
LARA: I think I saw you at the Standard last week, or Moomba ...
NICHELLE: No, it was that XBox party at Leo's.
LARA: Mm-hmm.
FRANK: I was hoping to hook up with Paris.
NICHELLE: Oh, my god, we love Paris!
FRANK: You know her?
LARA: Paris makes herself known.
FRANK: When was the last time you saw her?
LARA: You know, the whole scruffy Johnny-Depp-meets-Thom-Yorke thing really
works for you.
FRANK: (chuckles) About Paris ... you saw her ... ?
LARA: A party. Three weeks ago?
NICHELLE: Mm-hmm.
LARA: Conor and Blake's place.
NICHELLE: Right, but after that ... nothing.
FRANK: And you're not worried about her?
LARA: People come and they go. I mean, anybody else, I'd think "well, she's
left, looking for the next bigger better..."
NICHELLE: Mmm, but not Paris. She already owned it.
FRANK: What do you mean?
(NICHELLE looks over at the wide where a couple of guys are laughing loudly.)
NICHELLE: Conor Hewitt.
CONOR HEWITT: Naff off, you liar!
MAN: You don't know what you're talking about. You can't tell a story to save
your life.
NICHELLE: He really had a thing for her.
FRANK: And what does Conor do?
(Both woman snicker.)
NICHELLE: He and his brother are in Grievous Angels-- like, the coolest band to
come out of England in, like, what ... forever.
LARA: Forever.
NICHELLE: He's the singer.
FRANK: And Paris ...
LARA: Like, totally hooked him.
(FRANK turns away and takes a sip of his drink. He stops drinking as the drink
changes.)
(From the side, CONOR HEWITT turns to look over at FRANK. FRANK gasps as the
glass in his hand cracks and the liquid inside starts running down his fingers.)
FADE TO BLACK.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[INT. INSIDE - NIGHT]
(CONOR HEWITT, BLAKE HEWITT and PAUL KINGSLEY continue to joke and kid around.)
CONOR HEWITT: You crazy? Hey, Paul, go get us a beer, right? Get some more
alcohol now.
PAUL KINGSLEY: Yeah, right, get us a beer.
(PAUL KINGSLEY leaves to get the drinks.)
CONOR HEWITT: Jesus Christ. We go back to the loft, all right?
(Cut to: FRANK is standing at the bar when PAUL KINGSLEY walks up to get the
drinks. FRANK introduces himself.)
FRANK: Frank Taylor. You're with Grievous Angels, right?
PAUL KINGSLEY: Yeah. Paul Kingsley. I manage them, for my sins. So I haven't
seen you around here before. What, are you a Producer? Manager?
FRANK: Manager.
PAUL KINGSLEY: Oh. Right. Who do you rep?
FRANK: Just Indie bands. Wicked City, Gunsmith Cats, G-Force ...
PAUL KINGSLEY: right, I never heard of them.
(He chuckles.)
FRANK: They're no Grievous Angels.
PAUL KINGSLEY: This town is lousy with brit imports but they could go all the
way.
(Back where the boys are, CONOR HEWITT is flat on his back on the couch while
one of the women pours a beer down his open mouth.)
CONOR HEWITT: (yells indistinctly) Come on!
(BLAKE sits down next to them.)
(PAUL and FRANK continue to talk.)
PAUL KINGSLEY: At least, Conor could.
FRANK: He sure seems to have the attitude .. although, the others seem a little
like ... session players.
PAUL KINGSLEY: Redshirts. Only there to get fired when Conor goes into a rage.
(He chuckles.)
FRANK: Well, Blake's got it made. Conor would never fire his own brother.
PAUL KINGSLEY: He hasn't yet. Blake's good for me, though. He keeps Conor on
track.
FRANK: Conor sounds like a volatile guy.
PAUL KINGSLEY: Yeah, he's a football hooligan with a guitar.
(He chuckles.)
FRANK: I heard there was a girl that Conor was hot for ... named, uh, Paris.
(PAUL turns to look at FRANK and puts his drink down on the counter.)
PAUL KINGSLEY: Wait, you're not a bloody manager. What are you really after?
(NICHELLE and her friend interrupt the conversation. FRANK turns to look at
them.)
LARA: Hey, Frank, party at the guys' place. Are you coming?
FRANK: Sure.
LARA: Can we catch a ride?
FRANK: You're both 18, right?
NICHELLE: Yeah.
(The LARA nods.)
FRANK: Let's go.
CUT TO:
[EXT. STAIRS TO THE LOFT -- NIGHT]
(They climb the stairs to the loft.)
NICHELLE: Paris had been doing the mailing list for desolation's promoter.
So, she had this cool job and she fell for Conor.
FRANK: So, if Paris fell for Conor, why would she disappear?
LARA: She probably woke up and realized it wasn't going to happen. But, Frank,
she's gone. I mean, we're here.
FRANK: Yeah. We're, uh, we're here.
(They walk inside to where the party is continuing.)
[INT. THE LOFT - NIGHT -- CONTINUOUS]
(FRANK walks around the apartment where a smaller group of people mingle
around.)
(He turns around and TIERNEY, who was seated in a chair off to the side, hops
off and runs up to FRANK.)
TIERNEY: So you found your way in.
FRANK: Yeah. The ninth circle of wonderland.
TIERNEY: It just takes some getting used to.
FRANK: Why would you want to?
TIERNEY: Some people are made for it and the ones that aren't don't understand.
It's like a family -- a back-stabbing, weird one. If you don't have anything
else ...
(They reach the bar where FRANK gets a glass.)
FRANK: Paris didn't have anything else?
TIERNEY: She gave it away.
FRANK: What about you? Everybody needs more than ... this.
TIERNEY: Not everybody.
(Cut to: The service elevator door opens up and the entire group walks inside.
BLAKE and CONOR have a continuing conversation as they walk toward the bar.
They stop right in front of FRANK and TIERNEY.)
CONOR HEWITT: Right. Top ten goal scorers, in order. Charleston, Foulkes,
Spence ...
BLAKE HEWITT: Who's next? You don't know, do you?
CONOR HEWITT: Right, right, right. You're such a big fan. Where's your
official ring?
BLAKE HEWITT: I don't know. Who cares? It's not about merchandise; it's about
sport. Come on.
CONOR HEWITT: Right, (to FRANK) If you don't have your home jersey hanging in
your closet, you're not a real fan, right, mate?
FRANK: (counters) If you don't have Lakers' flag stuck on your SUV might as
well root for the Celtics.
(CONOR puts a hand on FRANK'S shoulder and looks at BLAKE.)
BLAKE HEWITT: Yeah. It's about sport.
CONOR HEWITT: Sod off, you bastard.
(BLAKE takes a drink of his beer bottle and walks away with a glare in FRANK'S
direction.)
CONOR HEWITT: Thanks, mate. If you hadn't have stepped in he'd have gone on
all night.
FRANK: Glad to help.
CONOR HEWITT: So, who the hell are you?
FRANK: Frank Taylor I'm a Private Investigator. (They shake hands.) I'm
looking for, um ... Paris. You know Paris, right?
(FRANK takes out the poster from his pocket and shows it to CONOR. He looks at
it.)
CONOR HEWITT: Yeah, yeah, I've seen her around. Not lately.
FRANK: I heard you were, um, close.
(CONOR doesn't say anything, although BLAKE speaks up obviously listening in on
their conversation from where he's standing.)
BLAKE HEWITT: Yeah, whatever you heard from her is a lie.
(He laughs and slowly inches his way past TIERNEY toward FRANK and CONOR.)
FRANK: Well, she's been missing since a party here three weeks ago, right after
you guys played at the Troubadour. What time did she leave?
CONOR HEWITT: (shakes his head, remembering) Early.
FRANK: So, she was here?
BLAKE HEWITT: Yeah. There was a lot of girls here. Conor wasn't paying her
much attention. She got messy drunk. Threw her in a cab, sent her home. End
of story.
FRANK: Except she never got there.
BLAKE HEWITT: It's not our problem, mate.
(FRANK looks over at CONOR who doesn't say anything.)
BLAKE HEWITT: Right. Whoever you bloody are, I think you should leave ...
before we have to throw you in a cab. You know what I mean?
(FRANK slowly nods his head. BLAKE takes another drink from his beer bottle and
laughs as FRANK leaves.)
(CONOR doesn't say anything, but inhales from his cigarette.)
CUT TO:
[INT. CAR -- DAY]
(FRANK goes over his notes with MARCUS.)
MARCUS: The department's been through this already, Frank.
FRANK: No cab company picked up a fare at that address. I don't think Paris
ever left the loft.
MARCUS: What else?
FRANK: She worked for a promoter of the club but apparently in a unofficial
capacity.
MARCUS: Who's the promoter?
FRANK: No idea. They're giving me the run-around on that. (pause) You don't
suppose...?
MARCUS: All right, what's the name of the club?
FRANK: Desolation. Tuesdays at the Mayan. Now, when Paris told her parents
she was seeing a musician she meant Conor Hewitt. Paris thought that she was in
love with him.
MARCUS: And this Conor thought he was in love with her?
FRANK: But he wasn't and when she pushed it when she started telling people
about ...
MARCUS: Oh, love stories go sour all the time, Frank. They don't always end in
murder.
FRANK: Marcus...
MARCUS: Look, you got no murder weapon no witnesses and no body. Find a reason
for me to believe that a crime has been committed ... I'll get in the game.
(FRANK nods and looks away.)
CUT TO:
[INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT]
(FRANK is lying on his bed, his arms raised and covering his eyes.)
(From somewhere, he hears a hollow pounding. FRANK gets up and immediately
grabs his gun from on top the dresser. He puts in a clip and cocks the gun.)
(With the gun raised, FRANK rapidly moves from out of the bedroom into the
hallway. We hear the hollow pounding again.)
(FRANK moves from the hallway toward his office where he flips the light switch
on.)
(The music goes on. FRANK looks around.)
LYRICS: (Linda Ronstadt)
Love will abide / take things in stride / sounds like good advice but there's
no one...
(FRANK walks into the office and checks it out. He heads to the stereo system
which is on. He tries to turn it off, hitting buttons and switches.)
(Suddenly, he hears screaming.)
PARIS: (screaming) Wake up!
(FRANK turns around. He has both hands again on his gun, searching for
someone.)
PARIS: Wake up! Wake up...!
(Looking at the glass partition in his office, he sees a pair of hands pounding
on the glass, but no one's there. Just the pair of hands pounding on the
glass.)
PARIS: Wake up!
(The hands hit the glass again, this time, cracking it. The hands start sliding
down the glass leaving behind a pair of bloody prints.)
(FRANK watches as the bloodied hands slowly travel down the glass ... and
disappears.)
(As he watches, the blood also disappears.)
(FRANK puts the gun down.)
FADE TO BLACK.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[INT. FRANK TAYLOR INVESTIGATIONS -- DAY]
(FRANK opens the door and lets EMILY EASTWAY into the office.
EMILY EASTWAY: Jim's not coming.
(They walk into the office and sit down.)
FRANK: I have a ... a strange question. Did the song "Long, Long Time" mean
anything to Paris?
EMILY EASTWAY: How do you know about that?
FRANK: It's, uh ... a line of investigation that I'm pursuing.
EMILY EASTWAY: I used to sing it to Paris when she was little. (She smiles as
she remembers.) Paris always wanted one last glass of water. She wouldn't go
to sleep. So, um ... I would sing to her and the only song that worked was that
one. Oh, she loved it.
(Something occurs to her and she looks at FRANK.)
EMILY EASTWAY: You think she's dead, don't you? (FRANK looks back at EMILY.)
You said "Did." "Did the song mean anything to Paris?"
FRANK: (nods) Yes. Uh ... I'm afraid that I do. It's been three weeks since
she's been gone, and...
(She starts crying, then stops.)
EMILY EASTWAY: Yeah. Whatever you find out I want to know the truth.
(FRANK nods. EMILY stands up to leave the office. Camera holds on FRANK as he
pauses and looks at the glass partition.)
(Quick flashback to: The night before, FRANK searches his office, gun in hand.
PARIS: Wake up!
(He turns and sees the bloody handprints on the glass partition. The handprints
slowly disappears. End of flashback. Resume to present.)
(The phone rings jarring FRANK out of his daze. He answers it.)
FRANK: Taylor.
MARCUS: It's me. I got your promoter for Club Desolation. Here's his name.
CUT TO:
[INT. CLUB DESOLATION -- DAY]
(FRANK walks into the empty bar and straight up to PAUL KINGSLEY who sits at a
side table working with an empty bottle of alcohol on the table in front of
him.)
(He looks up and sees FRANK as he takes the seat at his table. He groans.)
PAUL KINGSLEY: Oh, god. What are you doing here?
FRANK: Finishing our conversation. I've checked you out.
PAUL KINGSLEY: You've got no right to harass Conor.
FRANK: Conor's guilty of murder and you're going to help me prove it.
PAUL KINGSLEY: (laughs) Yeah, fat chance.
(He inhales from his cigarette.)
FRANK: Laugh, but I did my homework, too. Seems Desolation is your club which
means that Paris worked for you. Now, if you're protecting Conor because he
killed a girl that worked for you that could make you an accessory.
PAUL KINGSLEY: All I did was tell him to stay away from her.
FRANK: What about the song "Long, Long Time"?
PAUL KINSLEY: What about it?
FRANK: What does it mean to Conor?
PAUL KINGSLEY: I have no idea. All I know is that ... Conor was always goosing
Blake about recording that song.
FRANK: Where do they record?
PAUL KINGSLEY: In a converted building across the street from the loft. I'll
send you a comp CD when it's finished. Are we about done here?
FRANK: One last question. Paris didn't have a computer. How did she help you
with the mailing lists?
PAUL KINGSLEY: The girls work by cell phone. The Club gave her one.
(FRANK stands up.)
FRANK: So, it's listed to you.
PAUL KINGSLEY: Yeah.
CUT TO:
[INT. LOFT -- DAY]
(CONOR HEWITT is lying on the floor listening to music over earphones.)
LYRICS:
I'm watching you and I'm watching my back / I made a ... full of you, as a
matter of fact / I don't care what you're thinkin' / I don't care what you say /
I'm gonna do what I do, so it doesn't matter anyway / you got me down, got me
hangin' by a thread / dissin' on you all the things that I never said / take it,
keep it, all for yourself ...
(FRANK reaches over and takes the earphones off of CONOR'S head.)
CONOR HEWITT: Bloody...!
FRANK: Hello, Conor. Just getting up?
CONOR HEWITT: Get out of here.
FRANK: There's nobody here. I already checked.
CONOR HEWITT: What do you want?
FRANK: Your relationship with Paris wasn't casual.
CONOR HEWITT: We just had it off a few times, had some laughs.
FRANK: I'm a little confused so maybe you can help me out here. First, it was
that you'd just "seen her around" then you put her in a cab because she was "too
drunk to drive" and now you just "had it off a few times". I mean, maybe if I
keep asking you'll get around to the truth.
CONOR HEWITT: Which is?
FRANK: You had a very long phone conversation with Paris three weeks ago right
after she got off her cell phone with a Dr. Martin at Alderson Pregnancy Clinic.
CONOR HEWITT: This isn't the dark ages, mate. Getting a girl pregnant isn't
going to ruin my career.
FRANK: But t killing her because she was trying to control you might.
CONOR HEWITT: I don't operate that way...
FRANK: Well, you didn't plan to, but ... you let her in and then you wanted her
gone. Trouble is, she didn't want to go. So, you had to make her. "Long, Long
Time." Does that mean anything to you?
CONOR HEWITT: (shakes his head) No idea what you're going on about.
(FRANK leans down closer.)
FRANK: Let me spell it out for you, mate. All I have to do is prove that Paris
never left this place. I prove that, the cops will be here in five minutes
getting very acquainted with your DNA.
(FRANK straightens, then walks out of the studio. CONOR sits up.)
CONOR HEWITT: (yells) I don't believe you.
CUT TO:
[INT. LOFT -- HALLWAY -- CONTINUOUS]
(FRANK leaves the recording studio and walks out the hallway. He looks up and
sees PARIS EASTWAY standing there right in front of her. She lifts both hands
and they hit a glass in front of her leaving behind bloody prints.)
PARIS EASTWAY: (quietly) Wake up.
(She and the handprints disappear.)
(When she's gone, FRANK steps forward through to the hallway. There's no glass
there. He's breathing heavily.)
CUT TO:
[INT. BAR -- DAY]
FRANK: She's showing me the same things over and over again.
DANTE: Such as?
FRANK: Blood. Glass. Bloody handprints. A song. Seems important to her.
DANTE: She's dying again, and again and again, for you, Frank. You're the only
person from both worlds who can be her witness, man. (pauses) Okay, blood and
glass, huh?
FRANK: Handprints that vanish.
DANTE: They vanish?
FRANK: Yeah. What does that mean?
DANTE: Either it means blood that can't be seen or if it was there, ...
FRANK: ... Someone cleaned it up.
DANTE: (exactly) Boom.
FRANK: Music ... glass ... the studio.
(FRANK reaches into his pocket and pays for the drink.)
FRANK: Next one's on me, buddy.
(He stands up to leave. They shake hands.)
DANTE: Peace, man.
CUT TO:
[EXT. RECORDING STUDIO WAREHOUSE -- EVENING]
(FRANK walks up to the front of the warehouse being used as the recording
studio. He opens the gate, then picks the lock. Just as he enters the place,
TIERNEY rushes up behind. He turns around, surprised.)
FRANK: (quick inhale) What are you doing here?
TIERNEY: I saw your light. Did you pick that lock?
FRANK: Yes. Come in.
(FRANK waves her inside.)
TIERNEY: Cool.
(The door closes behind them.)
CUT TO:
[INT. RECORDING STUDIO - EVENING -- CONTINUOUS]
(The door to the sound area opens and FRANK walks in with TIERNEY close behind
him. He puts on a latex glove and turns on the light. TIERNEY looks around,
impressed.)
TIERNEY: This place is the bomb.
FRANK: You shouldn't be hanging out with these guys. They're dangerous.
(FRANK walks over to a stack of CD's and picks up the top one. It's labeled:
"TO: PARIS".)
(FRANK walks into the recording area with TIERNEY following him.)
TIERNEY: You think someone hurt Paris, don't you?
FRANK: Don't you have a curfew or something?
TIERNEY: Don't be getting all Brady Bunch on me, Frank.
FRANK: Somebody should.
(FRANK walks up to the glass window and checks the edges of the glass. TIERNEY
stands a distance away, suddenly silent as she watches him. FRANK walks back
into the sound master area, then sprays the glass with luminol.)
(He takes out a light and turns it on. The glowing handprints appear on the
glass. He puts the light away.)
FRANK: (sighs) Paris was killed in here.
(FRANK walks over to the door between the two areas.)
FRANK: Tierney, I think maybe you should ...
TIERNEY: (insistently) No. I want to know.
(She moves to follow FRANK. Together, they stand in the sound area. FRANK
points to the glass.)
FRANK: Okay. He had to drag her out of the booth and there's no back door out
of here, so ...
(FRANK sprays and uses the light to look for the blood spatter on the floor. He
straightens and looks at TIERNEY.)
FRANK: He took her out through the front.
(FRANK opens the studio door to leave; TIERNEY follows.)
CUT TO:
[EXT. RECORDING STUDIO WAREHOUSE - FRONT - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS]
(FRANK walks out the front door, trying to figure out where they may have put
the body.)
FRANK: He has to ditch her.
(He looks around and walks down the street. TIERNEY follows.)
(Near the end of the street, FRANK comes up to a pile of garbage bags and other
rubbish. TIERNEY stops as FRANK looks around.)
(Suddenly, he sees it. He walks toward the plastic and lifts it up. Underneath
is PARIS' rapidly decomposing body.)
(He breathes heavily as he stares at the body. Behind him, he hears TIERNEY
quietly sobbing. He looks up to find her staring down at the body also. Her
hand covers her mouth, she turns, then runs away.)
(FRANK takes a couple of steps toward her, but all he sees is her figure rapidly
running away down the street.)
FRANK: Tierney ...
(Camera holds on FRANK.)
FADE TO BLACK.
(COMMERCIAL SET)
FADE IN.
[EXT. DUMP SITE -- DAY]
(The CORONER along with MARCUS is there to get the body. The CORONER reports
her initial assessment.)
CORONER: Say she died of shock and loss of blood about three weeks ago. The
beating itself was the proximate cause of death.
MARCUS: "Proximate." You mean she wasn't dead when she was dumped?
CORONER: Not likely. She might've lived if she made it to the hospital.
MARCUS: What about these cuts on her face?
CORONER: They're haphazard, not incised wounds. Looks like she was hit with
something, not deliberately cut.
MARCUS: All right. Thank you.
(MARCUS motions for them to take the body.)
FRANK: We need to speak with Conor Hewitt. He was sleeping with Paris.
MARCUS: Frank ...
FRANK: She was pregnant, Marcus, and Conor was the father. Now, those marks on
her face could've been made by a piece of jewelry. Conor's got this soccer
ring. He was bragging about what a big fan he is.
MARCUS: All right. Let's go talk to him.
(FRANK turns to get back to his car; MARCUS follows him. Standing near the car
are EMILY and JIM EASTWAY. EMILY sees the body and starts crying. She buries
her face in JIM'S jacket.)
(FRANK walks up to them on the way to his car.)
FRANK: (firmly) We're going to find the person that did this. I promise you.
(EMILY looks up; FRANK walks away. She watches as MARCUS walks by, then she
starts crying again.)
CUT TO:
[INT. POLICE DEPARTMENT - INTERVIEW ROOM -- DAY]
(CONOR lightly fingers the soccer ring insignia while MARCUS interviews him. No
one is talking. CONOR sighs.)
(MARCUS is sitting on the edge of the table and leans in toward CONOR.)
MARCUS: She wasn't dead, you know. (shakes his head) Uh-uh. She suffered.
I'm talking truth here Conor. You didn't just stash a body; you trashed the
mother of your baby ... and death comes slow on a cold and lonely night.
CONOR: She hit me.
MARCUS: (hard) Why?!
CONOR: She thought I was going to dump her. (pauses) I can't remember much
more. I was lagered, you know?
MARCUS: You were drunk, huh? Coke? X?
CONOR: Whatever was there.
MARUCS: So, she hit you. And then?
[OBSERVATION ROOM]
(FRANK leans up against the glass watching the interview.)
CONOR HEWITT: (over speaker) It was loud. She was screaming being a bitch.
[INTERVIEW ROOM]
CONOR HEWITT: She just wouldn't shut it. I didn't remember you know? And then
I did. Her head hit the window ... and there was blood ... on the window, her
hands ... ...everywhere.
MARCUS: And then?
[OBSERVATION ROOM]
(FRANK looks through the window as the interview continues. He sighs and steps
away toward the connecting door. MARCUS walks out of the room.)
MARCUS: We should be happy.
FRANK: Because a spoiled kid confessed to killing a girl that loved him?
MARCUS: The law doesn't care that she loved him, Frank only that he killed her.
FRANK: She deserves better.
(FRANK walks away.)
CUT TO:
[INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT - BATHROOM -- NIGHT]
(FRANK is at the sink washing his face. He reaches for the towel and pats
himself dry. Suddenly the stereo starts playing "Long, Long Time" loudly from
the next room.)
(FRANK walks out to the bedroom. He looks around.)
LYRICS:
wait for the day / you'll go away
(He hears guggling coming from the bathroom sink. He turns and heads back
inside. As he watches, the sink gurgles, then the clear water stopped inside
the sink turns blood red. He leans over the sink, both hands braced on the
sides trying to figure out what PARIS is trying to tell him.)
LYRICS:
knowing that you warned me / of the price I'd have to pay / and life's full of
flaws / who knows the cause?
(Suddenly, the music stops; and all the red blood-like water runs down the
drain. He hears a clanking as the water empties from the sink. He looks up at
the mirror, then back down at the sink.)
(As he watches, the left faucet starts dripping blood that runs down the drain.)
PARIS EASTWAY: (quietly) Wake up.
(FRANK stands there and thinks about what he’s been shown.)
CUT TO:
[INT. RECORDING STUDIO - SINK]
(FRANK is back at the recording studio. He's standing in front of the sink
turning the faucet on and off. He puts on a latex glove, then works at removing
something caught in the drain.)
(When he takes it out, it's a soccer ring.)
CUT TO:
[INT. THE LOFT -- NIGHT]
(Everyone including FRANK and MARCUS are around the table. MARCUS talks to
BLAKE.)
MARCUS: Guess what you were right. Your brother was innocent.
BLAKE HEWITT: I told you he was. (He chuckles.) It's about time you guys came
to your senses.
FRANK: Yeah, he just thought that he killed her cause he was high and ...
suggestible.
BLAKE HEWITT: What are you on about?
(FRANK takes out the CD from his jacket pocket. He walks over to the stereo
system in the back of the room.)
FRANK: I found this at the recording studio with the rest of the demos.
(He inserts the CD and presses play.)
CONOR HEWITT: (from CD) This is for Paris.
(The music starts.)
FRANK: Conor recorded this for Paris. They were happy ... which must've made
you very ... unhappy.
BLAKE HEWITT: Oh, right, right, right. So... now you think I've done it,
right? Come after me? I wasn't having it off with her, right? No reason to
kill her.
FRANK: Conor was listening to her more than he was listening to you. See,
Conor remembers fighting with Paris. She thought that he was going to dump her.
I mean, I... I wonder where she got that impression.
(Quick flashback to: Inside the recording studio, PARIS yells at CONOR.)
BLAKE HEWITT: (v.o.) Well, it's the way girls are, right?
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
BLAKE HEWITT: Difficult?
FRANK: And they way Conor is, right? And it's your job to keep tabs on him,
isn't it? Right. And you were keeping a very close eye on him that night,
weren't you?
BLAKE HEWITT: Mm.
FRANK: You heard them fighting in the studio. Hm. Conor's usually fighting
with somebody ...
(Quick flashback to: BLAKE walks into the studio, sees them arguing, walks in
and grabs PARIS. He drags her out of the studio.)
FRANK: ...but what really bothered you was Conor recording Paris's favorite
song ...
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
FRANK: ... this song ... this song that you ... that you hate and that's when
you realized that your years of controlling your brother ...
(Quick flashback to: BLAKE grabs PARIS. CONOR stands up to follow, but BLAKE
backhands him across the face, knocking him unconscious. BLAKE turns and grabs
PARIS.)
FRANK: (v.o.) were over, and you just ...
(End of flashback. Resume to present.
FRANK: ... lost it.
(Quick flashback to: BLAKE shoves PARIS into the sound booth.)
BLAKE HEWITT: Shut your mouth!
(PARIS slams into the glass.)
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
PARIS EASTWAY: (screaming) (v.o.) Wake up!
(Quick flashback to: PARIS screams and pounds against the glass.)
PARIS EASTWAY: Wake up!
FRANK: (v.o.) And she was pounding up against the glass trying to
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
FRANK: ... screaming to get ... to get Conor to wake up ...
(Quick flashback to: BLAKE pulls PARIS away from the glass and slams her into
the glass. On the other side of the glass, CONOR, who is too out of it, slowly
wakes up as BLAKE kills PARIS.)
FRANK: ... and you just ... you just slammed it right into the glass, didn't
you?
(End of flashback. Resume to present.)
(Everyone is mesmerized silent. The echoing sounds stop.)
FRANK: And Conor watched you kill her.
(There is a long moment of silence.)
BLAKE HEWITT: You're bluffing.
(BLAKE chuckles.)
BLAKE HEWITT: You can't prove a thing.
(FRANK angrily glances at MARCUS who reaches out and knocks BLAKE'S feet off of
the table. He puts the evidence bag with the ring on the table in front of
him.)
FRANK: I can prove ... I can prove that you lost your ring down the drain,
washing the blood off your hands. See, the police have Conor's ring which makes
that one yours.
MARCUS: Her blood was on it.
(CONOR shakes his head and looks at BLAKE.)
CONOR HEWITT: I didn't believe them when they told me. You bastard!
(Suddenly CONOR surges to his feet to get his brother who also stands to get
CONOR. MARCUS grabs CONOR while FRANK grabs BLAKE and pushes him up against the
wall.)
(MARCUS release CONOR, then helps FRANK and cuffs BLAKE.)
BLAKE HEWITT: You know, I was always trying to keep you on your leash! And,
then, I come in there, you're passed out as usual. She says to me she's
pregnant, right? You've always been in trouble ever since you've been a kid.
(shouts) I bloody hate you!
CONOR HEWITT: (shouts) You killed her!
BLAKE HEWITT: She had you right under her thumb and you didn't even know it.
CONOR HEWITT: I loved her!
(MARCUS pulls BLAKE back, his arm around his neck as he reads him his rights.)
MARCUS: You have the right to remain 'bloody' silent.
(MARCUS turns and leaves the room. FRANK turns back to look at CONOR who sits
down next to the wall.)
CONOR HEWITT: (sighs confused) But I remembered ... we were standing on the
bridge. She was all wrapped up.
FRANK: No, you remember pieces of it. You were helping Blake dispose of her
body. He was not helping you.
CONOR HEWITT: I thought I killed her.
(He sighs. FRANK takes a step forward.)
FRANK: Conor ...
CONOR HEWITT: Just ... naff off, will you?
(After a moment, FRANK turns and leaves the room. CONOR bows his head and
cries.)
CUT TO:
[INT. STATION -- NIGHT]
(FRANK stands in the station with EMILY EASTWAY. The wall clock reads: 10:05.)
FRANK: How's your husband?
EMILY EASTWAY: Oh, it's hard. He feels responsible.
FRANK: Well, he's not.
EMILY EASTWAY: You know, he wouldn't let Paris or me even mention her sister.
It's like she never was ... (She inhales deeply.) But, um ... Jim's already
made all the arrangements. So, that's a step forward. With Tierney, I had to
make all the calls and ...
(At the mention of her name, FRANK slowly raises his head, his face pale. EMILY
trails off.)
EMILY EASTWAY: Mr. Taylor?
FRANK: Y-your other daughter ... what was her name?
EMILY EASTWAY: Tierney.
FRANK: (swallows) Do you... do you have a picture?
(She opens her purse and takes out her wallet. She hands FRANK a photo of
TIERNEY and PARIS.)
EMILY EASTWAY: Tierney had just gotten her license. She was going to the mall.
Paris wanted to go. Tierney said no. They had a fight ... said ugly things.
Then, uh ... (swallows) ... Tierney went off the road. Her car flipped. She
died instantly. (She starts crying.) I want to think of them as happy. I-I
want to think I didn't fail them.
FRANK: You didn't. Paris was lost, but that song that you sang to her was
still her favorite and you should know that ... that your daughter was loved.
(FRANK hands the photo back to EMILY just as TIM walks up to them. He puts the
suitcase down.)
JIM EASTWAY: Train's leaving, Em.
(They shake hands.)
EMILY EASTWAY: Mr. Taylor. Bye, Frank.
FRANK: Bye.
(They leave. FRANK walks a couple of steps and watches them leave the station.)
PARIS: (whispers) Wake up. (beat) Wake up, Frank. (beat) Wake up.
( "Long, long time" playing )
RONSTADT: And I think I'm gonna miss you / for a long, long time / 'cause I
done everything I know / to try and make you mine ...
(FRANK turns around and in front of him walking away are TIERNEY and PARIS.
Together. They disappear.)
LYRICS: (PARIS joins in)
And I think I'm gonna love you for a long, long time.
(FRANK stands alone in the middle of the station.)
FADE OUT.
========================
THE END
========================
[Captioning sponsored by Viacom Productions and UPN Captioned by Media Access
Group at WGBH Access.Wgbh.Org]
Courtesy of http://www.webphilia.com/~anthology/wnp.html
Contact the Transcriptionist at (intrepidly002@yahoo.com)
Please do not archive this transcript without permission from the
Transcriptionist.
========================
BEGINNING/TITLE CREDITS
========================
HAUNTED
1X02: GRIEVOUS ANGELS
ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON UPN: 10/01/2002
TRANSCRIBED FROM UPN
Starring
MATTHEW FOX as Frank Taylor
RUSSELL HORNSBY as Marcus Bradshaw
Created by: ANDREW COSBY & RICK RAMAGE
Also Starring
MICHAEL IRBY as Dante
Guest Starring
A.J. BUCKLEY as Brian Hewitt
JOSH HOLLAND as Conor Hewitt
ZACHARY QUINTO as Paul Kingsley
KRISTINA ANAPAU as Tierney
ILENE GRAFF as (Emily) Eastway
REBEKAH HOYLE as Paris Eastway
FINN CURTIN as Jim Eastway
Music by MARK SNOW
Co-Producer: MOIRA DEKKER
Co-Producer: ERIN MAHER
Co-Producer: KAY REINDL
Producer: ROB WRIGHT
Produced by: TIM IACOFANO
Supervising Producer: ANDREW COSBY
Co-Executive Producer: RICK RAMAGE
Written by: ERIN MAHER & KAY REINDL
Directed by: JEFFREY REINER
========================
END CREDITS
========================
Executive Producer: SCOTT SHEPHERD
Executive Producers: EMILE LEVISETTI
Executive Producers: KEITH ADDIS
IE (tm) Industry Entertainment
CBS Productions
Viacom Productions, A Paramount Company
Coordinating Producers: BRIAN L. CHAMBERS / ROBERT P. COHEN
Co-Starring
DAYA VAIDYA as Nichelle
HEATHER SHRAKE as Lara
ALEC LADD as Coroner
SUSAN LESLIE as Coroner #2
TOBIUS McGLONE as Bartender
Director of Photography: GORDON C. LONSDALE
Production Designer: GREG MELTON
Edited by DANY COOPER
Unit Production Manager: ROBERT P. COHEN
First Assistant Director: TENA YATROUSSIS
Second Assistant Director: DAN SUHART
Casting by: VICTORIA BURROWS and SCOT BOLAND
Production Executive: DAVE WATSON
Set Decorator: NATALI POPE
Costume Designer: MARY McLEOD
Camera Operators: GREG RHINEER / DAVID RICHERT
Chief Lighting Technician: JACK TODD
Key Grip: JASON HODGES
Key Make-Up: DONNA CICATELLI
Key Hair Stylist: MICHAEL WHITE
Property Master: CHUCK McSORLEY
Script Supervisor: HILARY MOMBERGER
Special Effects Coordinator: ROBERT WILLARD
Production Coordinator: MARIA C. DYLAN
Casting Assistant: JOSH EINSOHN
Production Sound Mixer: MAURY HARRIS, C.A.S.
Supervising Sound Editor: MICHAEL O. LYLE
Music Editor: JEFF CHARBONNEAU
Assistant Editor: TOM DeMAURI
Re-Recording Mixers: LARRY BENJAMIN, C.A.S. / ROSS DAVIS, C.A.S.
Script Coordinator: MEGHAN DOWD
Assistant To Mr. Shepherd: STACIA RAYMOND
Assistant To Mr. Addis: CHRISTINE FOY
Assistant to Mr. Levisetti: MICHELLE CLARK
Assistants to Producers: TARYN P. KELLY / JENNIFER THOMPSON / KENNETH MOK /
CHRIS KELISHES
Post Production Video Services Provided by: THE POST GROUP
Post Production Sound by: ECHO SOUND SERVICES, INC.
Film Processing Provided by: C.F.I.
Main Title by: THE PICTURE MILL
Filmed with PANA;VISION (R) Cameras & Lenses
Executive in Charge of Production: BRUCE KERNER
The persons and events in this film are fictitious. Any similarity to actual
persons or events is unintentional.
(c) 2002 VIACOM PRODUCTIONS, INC. All rights Reserved.
First publication U.S.A.
Viacom Productions Inc. is the author of this program for purposes of Article
15(2) of the Berne Convention and all national laws giving effects therein.
This motion picture is protected under the laws of the United States and other
countries. Unauthorized duplication or exhibition may results in civil
liability and criminal prosecution.
Dated:07/22/2003~lky
http://www.webphilia.com/~anthology/wnp.html