Crossing Jordan Virtual Season 7
“Over the Rainbow”
Written by
Nynaeve
Graphic Art by
Big CJFan and Nynaeve
“Crossing Jordan Virtual Season 7” is a
fan-based effort not intended to infringe on the rights of Tailwind Productions,
NBC/Universal or any of the other copyright holders of “Crossing Jordan.”
No money was made from the writing or posting of any content.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
Woody Hoyt
Jordan Cavanaugh
Nigel Townsend
Garret Macy
Kate Switzer
Jim Mueller
Diana Mueller
Will Pollack
J.D. Pollack
Mr. Y
Attorney
Jason Flannigan
Rosamund Pollack
Chris Baker
SET LIST
INTERIORS
THE MORGUE
HALLWAY
JORDAN’S OFFICE
TRACE
AUTOSPY ONE
NIGEL’S LAB
JORDAN’S APARTMENT
BEDROOM
WOODY’S APARTMENT
PRECINCT
INTERROGATION ROOM ONE
MUELLER HOME
UPSTAIRS BATHROOM
DOWNSTAIRS
PRISON
VISITATION AREA
WILL POLLACK’S HOME
LOUNGE ROOM
BOSTON LOGAN AIRPORT
BAGGAGE CLAIM
EXTERIORS
MUELLER HOME
BACKYARD
PATIO
DINGHY IN SYDNEY HARBOUR
THE FIVES
DEPARTURES, KINGSFORD-SMITH AIRPORT, SYDNEY, N.S.W., AUSTRALIA
TEASER
1. INT. MUELLER HOME UPSTAIRS BATHROOM – EVENING
The camera comes up on a mirror, the large kind you find in an upscale master
bathroom. Everything we see is from the mirror’s POV, in reflection. A
man – JIM MUELLER - in his mid fifties, a bit overweight, not in good
shape, stumbles into the frame. He has several cuts on his face and contusions
that are fresh but already beginning to darken. He’s going to have two
black eyes for sure and probably a meteorologist’s map of thunder-hued
bruises elsewhere. The man is tugging off a shirt, badly torn – something
office casual, like a golf shirt – and struggling with the task. The mirror
shows us why. His upper body is another mass of contusions and also bleeding
cuts, some deep. The man’s breathing is ragged and getting worse. He turns
so we see only profile and watch him search a small cabinet opposite the mirror
and vanity. His movements are rapid and shaky, while his eyes are darting back
and forth over the contents of the cabinet shelves.
| JIM MUELLER |
| Where. Are. They? Whe- |
From his profile we see sweat pouring down the man’s face. He is the color
of printer paper at this point. He reaches into the cabinet. We hear a number
of items fall over and some go tumbling out. In the cascade we see a variety of
amber-colored pill bottles and some over-the-counter remedies like Prilosec, Alka
Setzer and generic aspirin. The JIM MUELLER’S left hand is clutching a pill
bottle and he is trying to pry the lid open.
His words are cut off by a deep groan and he spins back toward the mirror, clutching
his right arm. He stumbles into the counter and goes down. We hear a solid thud
and a fine mist of blood sprays onto the mirror. We hear the pill bottle roll
across a tiled floor and the camera dims.

2. INT. JORDAN’S OFFICE – EARLY EVENING
The scene opens on the window in Jordan’s office. We hear the sound of
something rolling across the carpet. We see Jordan’s hand reach for it.
It’s a pill bottle – just ibuprofen. She glances toward the corner
of her desk, where she has a framed picture of Woody, lying next to it is a
thank-you note half in its envelope; we see the return address: Delinda Deline.
Her brow furrows slightly and she sighs, before shaking her head and resuming
her previous task. The light is soft and we hear the tapping of keys. She dry
swallows a couple of the tablets and rolls her shoulders. She’s been at
this a while and seems focused on getting it done. She is very intent and jumps
a little when we hear a knock.
JORDAN
(looking up) |
| Oh, geez! (breath) Yeah. |
The door opens tentatively. We see a man – WILL - a little over 6’
tall, reddish hair, dressed in business casual.

JORDAN’S eyes widen. WILL’S accent is Australian.
| JORDAN |
| Um… yeah. (beat) And you’re…? |
WILL gives her a hesitant smile and jerks his head toward the chair opposite her,
asking silent permission. JORDAN gestures and gives him a half-hearted grin, as
if to say, ‘Where are my manners?” WILL enters her office and shuts
the door. He crosses the room and sits down.
| WILL |
| I’m sorry to… disturb you at work, but… (jaw tightens)
Sorry. I’m Will. Will Pollack. |
The only way to describe JORDAN is “gobsmacked.”
END OF TEASER
;
ACT 1
3 . INT. JORDAN’S OFFICE – CONTINUING
JORDAN
(nodding slowly, in a daze) |
| Pollack. Australia. (eyes focus a bit) You’re his…? |
| WILL |
| Brother. (beat) If this is a bad time, Dr. Cavanaugh- |
JORDAN
(smiling, still a little dazed) |
| Call me Jordan. |
WILL
(nods) |
| Right. Jordan. Like I said, if this is a bad time…. |
| JORDAN |
| No, no. It’s – it’s fine. I just… I didn’t
know… he had…you. |
| WILL |
| Yeah, we.. uh… we hadn’t been too close in – since Mum
and Dad died. (long beat) Dr. Cav- Jordan, I don’t want to take up
a lot of your time. We got J.D.’s will probated finally and…
well… here. |
WILL hands her a medium-sized rectangular box. JORDAN looks surprised again. As
she opens the box, we can see her hands are trembling a bit. We follow her hands
as they slide into the box and withdraw an object. She holds it up. The look of
surprise has been replaced by one of puzzlement.
| WILL |
| Not as such, no. (beat) It’s a scale model of a boat called The
Five W’s. |
JORDAN shrugs helplessly.
WILL waves a hand, dismissing her apology as unnecessary.
| WILL |
| The Fives is – was – my brother’s boat. But
she wasn’t just a boat. Not really. (beat) Do you have a few minutes? |
JORDAN nods.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| He bought The Fives when we were both at uni. (smiles at a memory)
She was this broken down, leaky, ugly tub. |
JORDAN grins a bit, just the corners of her mouth turning up.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| He saw something in that tub that no one else did. Wanted to… sharpen
her up. |
WILL stirs restlessly in his chair.
JORDAN is silent, the tension in the air thickening by the moment.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| Took him almost five years, more cash than I care to imagine and a lot
of himself, but she turned out to be worth it. |
| JORDAN |
| And this is what she – the boat – looks like now? |
| WILL |
| Yeah. Mum and Dad thought he’d gone round the bloody bend, but inside
they were pretty proud that he stuck to it. (gestures to the model) They
had that made. Gave it to ‘im the day we rechristened her. That boat…
meant something – no… she meant the world to him. I
think when he looked at The Fives he saw the best of himself. You
know? |
JORDAN nods, sadly.
| JORDAN |
| But… why leave me the model? |
WILL
(grinning) |
| He didn’t just leave you the model. |
He jerks his head toward the replica and then reaches over and slides the deck
plating varnished piece of wood. JORDAN’S eyebrows shoot up when she sees
a key resting in the model’s hollow interior. She looks up.
WILL
(bemused) |
| You don’t know? (beat) He loved you. |
Tears start in JORDAN’S eyes and she swallows.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| A couple months before he – before he died, he called me. (sad smile)
Hadn’t done that in a coupla years. Said he’d – he’d
met someone. |
JORDAN looks down at the model in her hands.
| WILL |
| Work out. I know. (pause) But there was – there was something in
his voice. Something I hadn’t heard since Mum and Dad’s accident.
He was excited about the piece he was writing…judicial corruption? |
JORDAN can only nod.
WILL (cont’d)
(shrugs) |
| But it wasn’t only that. He was still in love with you. |
JORDAN
(very close to tears) |
| I’m sorry… I… |
| WILL |
| You were good for him. |
JORDAN
(snorts) |
| He must not have told you much. |
WILL
(gently) |
| He told me everything. Didn’t change how he felt, Jordan. He told
me he’d decided if anything happened to him that he wanted you to
have the boat, and I knew. |
JORDAN frowns and shakes her head in that way she has when she is too emotional
to say anything.
| WILL |
| That he finally found that… something he’d been looking for. |
| JORDAN |
| We never had the chance… |
She wipes away a few tears.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| I’m – um – I don’t know… maybe…. |
She finishes with a helpless shrug.
| WILL |
| The thing is, it didn’t matter. You gave him something that he’d
been missing since our parents died. That’s why he wanted you to have
her. |
JORDAN
(tears slowly trickling down her face) |
| He’d have changed his mind. |
WILL shakes his head.
| WILL |
| Nah. Too stubborn by half. (looks at her) I’m glad he was with you
when – when it happened. (blushes) Not ‘cause of what you went
through…sorry. No. Just that… you know? |
They are silent for a few moments.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| Look, you don’t have to keep The Fives. I’ll buy
her from you. Fair market value of course. But I thought you might want
to see her. In person. (clears his throat) And we’re – um –
we’re scattering … the… the – um - ashes. In a week. |
He slides an envelope across her desk to her.
| WILL |
| If you want to come, here’s a ticket. Round trip. |
JORDAN nods.
| JORDAN |
| This is… too much. I can’t… I – I don’t
know. |
| WILL |
| He’d want you there. (beat) And there’s no hurry with The
Fives. The lease on the slip is paid through the year. No matter how
skint he was, J.D. always found the cash for that. I’ve been keeping
her up all these years. (smile) I’ll manage until you decide. |
WILL stands up.
| WILL |
| I’m sorry to drop this on you like this, but I’ve got a late
flight out to San Francisco. Business. (beat) And I wanted to do this in
person. |
JORDAN
(stands) |
| Thank you. Really. |
They walk across her office to the door. WILL opens it and, before leaving, offers
JORDAN his hand. They shake. He steps into the hall, but stops.
He stops to get something from his laptop case.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| Can’t believe I nearly forgot these. |
He hands Jordan a manila envelope.
| WILL |
| Some of his papers. I thought you should have them. |
| WILL |
| They have something to do with that judge – the one in… anyway,
him, a cop and a woman. (beat) I figgered with the name an’all. |
JORDAN gives him a questioning look.
| WILL |
| Someone named Emily Cavanaugh. |
4. INT. JORDAN’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
JORDAN is seated cross-legged on a bed. Papers are scattered around her. On
a table next to the bed, is a cup of tea, full and slightly filmy with cold.
JORDAN reaches for a sheet of paper and tosses it aside. She frowns in concentration,
reaching for another paper that is the one she wants. She leans back, stretches
her legs out, grimacing with stiffness, and begins to read again. After a moment,
she sighs and scrubs a hand over her eyes.
JORDAN
(lowly) |
| Dammit, Pollack! Did you always have to be such a – a goody-two-shoes
about your sources? (beat) How is Mr. Y supposed to help me? Or
Officer X? |
She puts the paper down on her knees and rests her head in her hands for a moment.
She takes a deep breath and looks up.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| Not that you knew you wouldn’t be here to make sense of
it. |
Jordan sits up again, her face set with renewed determination. She leans forward
and scoops the papers up, arranging them back into some sort of order. Then she
begins to go through them, slowly. She begins to read in a VOICEOVER.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| Pollack: So, tell me how you ended up here. |
She makes a quick scrabble through his notes again.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| You couldn’t even put down the name of the prison? (sigh) Mr.
Y: My passport wasn’t exactly what you’d call “standard
issue.” |
As JORDAN continues to read in VOICEOVER, the image of her fades into POLLACK’S
reflection.
5. INT. PRISON VISITATION AREA – DAY
POLLACK is sitting it one of those cubicles where people use a phone to talk
to the prisoner on the other side of the glass. The prisoner, MR. Y, is the
focus of the frame and POLLACK, because it’s his reflection, looks ghostly.

| POLLACK |
| A fake passport. Come on, mate. No one’d lock you up for… |
He consults a notebook in front of him.
| POLLACK (cont’d) |
| …twelve to fifteen for that. |
| MR. Y |
| They got real touchy after nine-eleven, you know? |
| POLLACK |
| No one’s that touchy. |
MR. Y shrugs.
| MR. Y |
| You probably got my sheet. You know why I’m here. |
POLLACK
(grin) |
| Good point. |
He looks down and reads his notes again before continuing.
| POLLACK (cont’d) |
| Armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, possession with intent to
sell. (looks up) Makes sense. |
| POLLACK |
| What I don’t get are these dates. |
MR. Y replies with cold silence.
| POLLACK (cont’d) |
| I mean, they’re all from 1980 and before. |
| MR. Y |
| Took ‘em a while to catch up with me. |
| POLLACK |
| Why’s that, mate? |
MR. Y looks like he’s getting impatient.
| MR. Y |
| Because I was living … elsewhere, mate. (beat) Your neck
of the woods, actually. |
POLLACK’S eyebrows go up. He makes a show of reading his notes again, even
though he knows the information.
| POLLACK |
| And how did you manage that on a…let’s see… a gas station
attendant’s salary? |
| MR. Y |
| I had friends. They helped out, you might say. |
| MR. Y |
| Mighta been. Mighta also been a cop looked the other way a time or two
back then. |
| POLLACK |
| Why would they do that? What makes you so special? |
| MR. Y |
| Everyone gets into tight spots, from time to time, yeah? |
POLLACK nods.
| MR. Y (cont’d) |
| Well, I helped this one cop – let’s call him Officer X
- out. Mostly small stuff, for him and that Gordon guy, but…. |
MR. Y closes his mouth, suddenly realizing he’s said enough. POLLACK can
smell the blood in the water though.
No reply.
| POLLACK (cont’d) |
| Seems like this Officer X could have got you out of here. |
| MR. Y |
| By the time I came back? (shakes his head) He wasn’t in a position
to help out, you might say. |
| POLLACK |
| So, you help out some cop, do a few not-so-good deeds for the judge and
end up here? Doesn’t seem fair. |
MR. Y thinks this over. We can see the wheels grinding in his head.
| MR. Y |
| What’s in it for me? If I give you anything? |
POLLACK shrugs.
| POLLACK |
| I write my article. The truth about this cop comes out; people find out
about Judge Stevens. You never know – time off for good behavior maybe. |
MY. Y snorts. He knows he’s stuck where he is.
POLLACK (cont’d)
(manipulating MR. Y a bit more) |
| All right then. Maybe this cop and the judge end up right here with you. |
Revenge? This affects MR. Y. POLLACK waits, letting Y think it over, not pressing
him.
| MR. Y |
| I ain’t a snitch. I wanna be clear about that. |
| POLLACK |
| Of course not, mate. |
| MR. Y |
| All right. Yeah. I helped the cop off some lady. |
POLLACK
(hoping he heard that wrong) |
| “Off some lady?” |
MR. Y
(as if POLLACK is stupid) |
| Yeah. You know. Off. Do. (still nothing) Cap. Whack. |
POLLACK is getting more than he bargained for. He looks as if he has a bad taste
in his mouth.
| POLLACK |
| You’re talking about murder? |
| MR. Y |
| That’s what I said. (shakes head) Still don’t know why he
wanted to do her. I mean, I heard she was a few sandwiches short of a picnic,
but she was a looker. (shrugs) Whatever. I did it. |
| POLLACK |
| Why should I believe you? |
MR. Y
(exasperated as only the guilty can be) |
| Look it up. It was in all the papers at the time. Turned out the broad
came from one of those high class Boston families, used to be all uptown
til she got married. I dunno. |
POLLACK simply looks at the man.
| MR. Y (cont’d) |
| They never figured it out. (another shrug) I guess they wouldn’t.
A cop setting the whole thing up and all. |
There is a pause as Y pulls out some cigarettes and lights one.
POLLACK
(lowly) |
| What was her name? |
| MR. Y |
| The broad? Gotta think about that. |
He takes his time, dragging on his cigarette, watching POLLACK.
| MR. Y (cont’d) |
| Oh, yeah. Cavanaugh. Emily Cavanaugh. |
The scene shifts abruptly back to JORDAN, who has one sheet of paper in her hands,
the one she’s been reading. She turns to the last page and her expression
becomes distressed, a bit disbelieving as well. We go in and see that half the
page is a blurred mess where something spilled on the paper, making the ink run.
6. INT. NIGEL’S LAB – MORNING, SIX DAYS LATER
NIGEL is at his computer, reading something very intently and smiling to himself,
that fun, goofy Nigel smile. JORDAN comes in, looked tired and harried.

| JORDAN |
| Oh, man, am I glad you’re here?! |
NIGEL
(grinning, cheerful) |
| I dunno. Are you? |
JORDAN stops in her tracks and looks at him. She’s in obsession mode and
doesn’t really have the patience to banter with him. She rolls her eyes.
NIGEL is still grinning, he hasn’t caught on to her mood yet.
| NIGEL |
| Let’s see… Woody’s birthday is coming up soon and you
need a masculine opinion- |
There is a beat as she comes out of her mood for a moment.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| And why would I ask you? |
NIGEL
(taken aback) |
| Well now, that’s not very- |
| JORDAN |
| Nigel, can we do this some other time? I really need your help. |
NIGEL appraises her and finally clues in that she’s off kilter in some way.
JORDAN gets that determined look on her face.
NIGEL groans.
| NIGEL |
| Jordan… luv… how many times-? |
She races on before he can interrupt her.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| See, there’s this guy. In prison. He had something to do with that
judge. (swallows) And Pollack – Pollack talked to him. The guy, not
the judge. |
She shakes her head.
| JORDAN(cont’d) |
| Anyway, this guy… he used to do…favors for the judge and…
for a cop. |
She stops pacing and looks squarely at NIGEL.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| He helped the cop kill my mother. |
NIGEL just stares at her.
| JORDAN |
| I have to find him. He can tell me… everything. |
| NIGEL |
| I don’t… understand. |
JORDAN puts down the papers in front of him.
| JORDAN |
| It’s an interview Pollack did before – before. This guy –
Pollack must have gone to talk to him about the judge and then… this
guy helped kill my mom. Somehow. I mean, maybe he wasn’t there, but
he…. |
JORDAN continues to talk in rapid fire speech. NIGEL scans the interview transcript.
He looks up when he realizes JORDAN has gone silent. She is looking at him, her
eyes pleading.
| NIGEL |
| There’s no names here. And this last sheet…? What am I supposed
to do with that? |
JORDAN
(nodding) |
| I know. That’s why I need your help. I tried… I’ve been
trying for the last… week. |
NIGEL
(gently) |
| I don’t know what I can do. |
JORDAN
(almost crying) |
| Nige… please. This is the closest I’ve ever come. I need
to find this guy. |
There is a beat while she pulls herself together.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| There has to be a way. |
NIGEL takes a deep breath. His expression is a mixture of compassion and concern.
| NIGEL |
| I can try. (beat) Maybe with the dates and offenses…. |
He gestures to the smeared paper.
| NIGEL (cont’d) |
| And I suppose “Grah- -sum” could be part of his name. |
JORDAN
(heartfelt) |
| Thank you. |
| NIGEL |
| I don’t want you to get your hopes up, luv. This could take…
months. If ever…. |
JORDAN
(nodding quickly) |
| I’ve waited this long. |
She gives him an impulsive hug and then turns to go. She looks back.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| Don’t tell anyone. Okay? |
NIGEL looks like he thinks that’s a bad idea.
JORDAN
(a bit forcefully) |
| No one. Not yet. |
NIGEL nods reluctantly.
7 . INT. HALLWAY – CONTINUING
JORDAN is walking down the hall, a bag over her shoulder. WOODY steps off the
elevator and hurries toward her, smiling but concerned.
| WOODY |
| What happened last night? I thought you were coming over after you finished
the Dean autopsy. |
| JORDAN |
| Oh… sorry. It – um it took longer than I thought and…. |
WOODY’S eyebrows attempt to mate with his hairline.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| It’s – I – I was really tired. |
| WOODY |
| Jor, is everything okay? |
JORDAN
(drops gaze) |
| Yeah. Of course. Why? |
| WOODY |
| Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because for the last week you’ve been…
busy, tired, distracted…whatever. (beat) Distant. |
| JORDAN |
| No. It’s just been- |
WOODY takes a deep breath, puts a hand on her arm and makes her face him.
| WOODY |
| Is it - Is it what I said… at the airport… after Danny and
Delinda left? Coz that was a jo- |
JORDAN
(uncomfortable) |
| No…! (softer) Woody, no… I just… there are some things…. |
Despite her words, she has trouble meeting his eyes. Her face takes on the expression
of someone looking for an excuse to be somewhere else. She is saved by GARRET
striding down the hall toward them.
| GARRET |
| Jordan! (waves some papers) What the hell is this? |
WOODY’S look is alarmed now. We can read his mind: she’s going to
run, no matter what she just said; Macy’s holding her resignation.
| GARRET (cont’d) |
| A week? You need a week off now? |
JORDAN
(looking from GARRET to WOODY) |
| It might not be that long. |
| GARRET |
| Damn right! It’s not even going to be one day. You can’t
just run off- |
JORDAN
(jaw set) |
| It’s important. |
| GARRET |
| It’s always important, Jordan! |
| JORDAN |
| Yeah, well… (shrugs) |
WOODY
(finally getting a word in) |
| Jordan? What’s going on? |
JORDAN
(walking toward the elevator now) |
| I’ll tell you when I get back, Woody. |
He looks to GARRET when she doesn’t answer and, instead, gets on the elevator
as the door closes.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| Back from where? |
GARRET
(sighs heavily) |
| Sydney. |
WOODY
(eyes wide) |
| Sydney? As in… kangaroos, koalas…? |
| GARRET |
| As in J.D. Pollack. |
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
8. INT. HALLWAY – CONTINUING
WOODY is staring at the closed elevator doors. His expression is similar to
JORDAN’S when she met WILL. His eyes cut to the stairwell door and he
takes a step toward it. His cell rings. He looks down and rolls his eyes as
he recognizes the number. Sighing, he unclips the phone.
He listens, nodding, his eyes closing in annoyance and a bit of despair.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| Yeah. Give me that address again. |
He pulls out his notepad and scrawls something on it, using a nearby wall for
support. The dispatcher must ask some question about which M.E., if any, WOODY
wants to request. His jaw tightens.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| No, Dr. Cavanaugh won’t be available. (beat) I’m sure.
Look, I’m at the morgue. I’ll grab someone, ‘K? |
WOODY flips shut his cell phone and begins walking back toward the offices and
autopsies. He sees KATE coming. WOODY tries his charming grin.
| WOODY |
| Doc-tor Swit-zer! Just the person I – |
| KATE |
| What do you want, Detective? |
KATE’S voice is wry, gentler than her words would indicate but she still
isn’t finding WOODY’S dimples to be deeply motivating.
WOODY’S face falls and he gets back into professional mode.
KATE
(sly grin) |
| I thought you pretty much had that covered. |
WOODY mutters something darkly we can’t hear and then speaks more loudly.
| WOODY |
| Jordan’s… unavailable. |
KATE smirks.
| KATE |
| Ah, I see. Another one of those forward-backward moments in your complicated…
relationship? |
WOODY
(growls) |
| At least we have one. |
KATE
(dropping subject) |
| What’s the case? |
WOODY
(refers to his notebook) |
| Wife got home. Found her Eiderdale Glen (KATE whistles) house in not-quite-the-pristine
condition she’d left it. Husband was upstairs. Dead. |
| KATE |
| Home invasion gone bad? |
| WOODY |
| Isn’t that what I’m supposed to figure out, Doc? |
| KATE |
| I’ll get Nigel and meet you there. |
WOODY watches her exit. His face clouds and he mutters. The only thing we really
catch is Jordan’s name, laced with his frustration.
9. INT. MUELLER HOME DOWNSTAIRS – AROUND 8 A.M.
A young, beautiful woman, DIANA MUELLER, sits on a couch in the middle of a
spacious, open floor plan. She is wrapped in a blanket and staring straight
ahead. Behind her is a broken French door – shards of glass all over the
floor, the wooden frame bent and splintered. Around her is another mess: we
can see an open drawer in the kitchen and several normal household objects on
the floor beneath it. There is a breakfast bar; one of its chairs is overturned
on the floor. Two or three scatter rugs are bunched up or sitting at odd angles.
There are dried blood smears on the tiled floor. NIGEL is in the kitchen, examining
the pull for the open drawer. We see him taking a sample with a Q-tip and rehydrating
solution. It’s more dried blood. We come to rest on WOODY and follow his
gaze, first to the woman, then to the blood trail. He sees that it goes toward
the stairs. They are dark wood, so it’s hard to tell with the naked eye,
from a distance, if the trail continues. WOODY wrinkles his nose, realizing
suddenly there is a slight unpleasant odor in the air. He jerks his head in
mute question to UNIFORM #1 who nods and points. WOODY nods. KATE comes in from
behind him, clothing and shoes protected and she heads out of the frame, up
the stairs, as WOODY comes back to the woman. He hunches in front of her.

| WOODY |
| Mrs. Mueller. I’m Detective Woody Hoyt, B.P.D. (beat) I’m
very sorry for your loss. |
DIANA
(lost) |
| Who would… do this? |
WOODY
(gently) |
| Mrs. Mueller, that’s what I’d like to find out. But I’m
going to need your help. |
| DIANA |
| How…? I wasn’t… (sobs). |
| WOODY |
| Ma’am, I know this is hard, but I need to ask you a few questions.
(no response; pushes on, still as gently as possible) Did your husband have
any enemies? |
She shakes her head and gives short bark of laughter, on the verge of hysteria.
| DIANA (cont’d) |
| That’s always what the police ask, isn’t it? |
| DIANA |
| Maybe he should have kept a list! |
WOODY
(sighs) |
| So… he did have… enemies? |
Outside, probably next door, we hear a volley of loud, deep barks. DIANA flinches.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| Mrs. Mueller…? |
The dog barks again.
WOODY
(getting a little desperate) |
| About your husband? |
Once more, the dog barks. This volley is more sustained than the previous two.
DIANA rises from the couch and, heedless of the scene, all-but runs to the shattered
French door.
| DIANA |
| Shut up! Shut up! Barking, always barking! Just stop, goddammit! |
WOODY approaches her as carefully as he can and reaches to pull her back. She
looks at him with wide eyes, face bloodlessly pale. Her hysteria is at a point
where she is going to shut down. She begins to flail at him.
| DIANA |
| Do something! Why can’t you do something? That fucking… dog.
Always barking. Even with – Even with Jim – Even…. |
DIANA faints and WOODY grabs her.
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
10. INT. AUTOPSY ONE – AFTERNOON
KATE is closing up JIM MUELLER. Music is blaring. WOODY walks in but she doesn’t
notice him until he turns off the music.
| KATE |
| What the hell do you think you’re doing? |
| WOODY |
| Making the world safe for ear drums. |
| KATE |
| Do I go around complaining about your interview technique? It’s
hardly my fault if you don’t have good taste in music. |
WOODY gestures in the direction of the speakers.
| WOODY |
| That? (raises an eyebrow) That isn’t music. It’s… noise
- and sometimes. |
| KATE |
| You – uh… never mind. Sometimes what? |
| WOODY |
| Sometimes you complain about my interview technique. |
| KATE |
| Don’t confuse me with Jordan, Detective. |
| WOODY |
| Jordan doesn’t complain about that. |
| KATE |
| Oh, that’s right. She just takes over and does it herself. (beat)
And why aren’t you having this conversation with her again? |
WOODY looks away for a moment and then approaches the body. He pales – this
guy was dead nearly a full week before the wife came home from a “girls’
trip” to Florida.
KATE
(slightly contrite) |
| Which one do you want? |
| KATE |
| Even with the decomp, I found several things that at least contributed
to his death. |
| KATE |
| Well, I wouldn’t recommend the fifteen rounds he went with his attacker
as healthy and the blunt force trauma to his head didn’t do him much
good, but technically, he died of a heart attack. |
| WOODY |
| That fits. He had a bottle of nitroglycerin pills in his hand when he
died and he’d had two heart attacks already. (beat) So was he murdered? |
| KATE |
| I don’t know. Does the D.A. have a little box to check that says
“The accused scared the victim to death?” |
WOODY sighs.
| KATE (cont’d) |
| Look, he got into a fight. That probably brought on the heart attack.
He couldn’t get the pill bottle open and passed out, hitting his head
on the edge of the counter when he went down. So, no, no one ‘pulled
the trigger,’ so to speak. But someone’s responsible, wouldn’t
you say? |
WOODY nods.
| KATE |
| That’s your job, right? (beat) I know if Jordan were here- |
| WOODY |
| Yeah. Well…as you pointed out, she’s not. |
WOODY gives her a hard look and stalks from the room.
11.INT. TRACE – NEXT MORNING
NIGEL is running some test. He’s looking perplexed at the results. WOODY
comes in. Honestly, that boy about lives at the morgue.
| WOODY |
| Tell me you’ve got something, Nige. |
| NIGEL |
| The lovely widow Mueller still isn’t talking? |
| WOODY |
| Oh, she’s talking. Swears he was on the bathroom floor when she
came home. |
| NIGEL |
| And you don’t believe her? |
WOODY
(shrugs) |
| I dunno. (beat) There’s just… something off. |
| NIGEL |
| Well, she certainly seems to be grief stricken. (gives WOODY a sly look)
Though I can’t think why. |
| WOODY |
| You do have something! |
NIGEL smiles and does his “all in a day’s work” shrug.
| NIGEL |
| Those nitroglycerin tablets? |
He waits.
| NIGEL |
| Not even close. (beat) Xanax. |
| WOODY |
| Well, at least he wouldn’t have let his impending death cause him
any anxiety. |
NIGEL chuckles.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| I don’t suppose you…? |
NIGEL
(handing WOODY a paper) |
| The widow had her very own prescription for the stuff. The funny thing
is, she refilled it about two months ago. |
| NIGEL |
| Well, you’d think if she was going to substitute the pills, she’d
have done it sooner. |
| WOODY |
| Maybe the husband didn’t need the pills until that night. |
| NIGEL |
| No. His prescription was refilled about three weeks ago. |
| WOODY |
| Maybe she was waiting. |
| NIGEL |
| And got tired of waiting? |
| WOODY |
| Wouldn’t be the first time. |
WOODY stares down the paper.
| NIGEL |
| One small problem with that, mate. He was older than she is, but he still
had a good half foot and sixty pound on her. No way she could’ve done
that damage. |
WOODY
(unconcerned) |
| And she was in Florida a week ago. She could’ve hired someone though.
(beat) Did you get anything off of trace? |
| NIGEL |
| A few things. I’m still analyzing them. |
| WOODY |
| Call me when you get something. I’m going to go have another little
chat with the bereaved Mrs. Mueller. The bereaved and wealthy Mrs.
Mueller. |
12. INT. PRECINCT INTERROGATION ROOM ONE – AFTERNOON
WOODY is sitting across from DIANA MUELLER and her ATTORNEY. The widow is wringing
her hands while the attorney looks very stoic. WOODY has a piece of paper in
front of him.
| ATTORNEY |
| My client knows nothing about her husband’s death. She’s told
you everything she can think of about his business dealings and associates. |
WOODY
(nods as if sympathetic) |
| I’m sure she has. |
| ATTORNEY |
| Then why are we here? |
WOODY
(slight smile) |
| I’m not really concerned about all that. (beat) Well, I am, but
we’ll come back to that. No, what I’m wondering now is when
she switched her husband’s nitroglycerin pills for Xanex? |
DIANA gasps and then goes pale.
WOODY (cont’d)
(addressing her) |
| You didn’t think we’d check the pill bottle? That we’d
run a tox screen? |
| ATTORNEY |
| My client has nothing to say. |
| WOODY |
| Really? Is that true, Mrs. Mueller? Because, you know, if you told me
about the pills, I could put in a word with the D.A. |
DIANA opens her mouth but is cut off by her attorney. He leans toward her and
they whisper together. After a moment, they both nod and turn back to WOODY.
| ATTORNEY |
| As I already told you, my client has nothing to say. |
WOODY
(sighs) |
| Okay, how about I tell you what I think happened? (no response) I think
Mrs. Mueller married Mr. Mueller for his money and then decided she’d
like the money, but not the man. So, she – you, Mrs. Mueller –
switched his nitro pills with her Xanex, figuring he’d have some sort
of attack, take the pills and… ooops! (grins again, you know the one)
How’m I doing so far? |
There is still no response.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| All right, then. The problem was you got tired of waiting so you hired
someone to break in to your house and scare your husband, knowing he’d
go for those pills. You made sure it was during your “girls’
trip” so you had a good, solid alibi and figured we wouldn’t
notice. |
| ATTORNEY |
| You don’t have a shred of proof. |
ATTORNEY
(shakes head) |
| You’re in here harassing my client when you should be out there
finding out who did this. (looks at DIANA) We’re leaving. |
| WOODY |
| Last chance, Mrs. Mueller. Help me out with this and I’ll do what
I can with the D.A. |
DIANA looks at her attorney for a moment and takes a deep breath. He raises a
hand to stop her, but she shakes her head.
| DIANA |
| I didn’t do it, Detective Hoyt. Not what you’re saying I did. |
There is a moment of tense silence. The attorney blows out a frustrated breath
and looks away.
| WOODY |
| So… what did you do then? |
| DIANA |
| I know what people think. I know how it looks. But I didn’t marry
Jim for his money. I loved him. |
WOODY
(sarcasm) |
| I’m touched. Really, I am. |
| DIANA |
| Then I met… someone. And – I don’t know… I was
going to leave Jim. But… I just… I thought maybe. |
| WOODY |
| You thought you could have everything. |
DIANA nods, weeping now. WOODY is not impressed.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| So you switched the pills and last week, your boyfriend went over there
and- |
| DIANA |
| No! I told you. I switched the pills. I admit that. I didn’t have
anything to do with the rest of it. |
WOODY studies her for a moment.
| DIANA |
| He didn’t have anything to do with this. He didn’t even know
about the pills. I swear. |
| WOODY |
| You’ll forgive me if that’s not quite good enough. His name. |
She lowers her eyes and murmurs a name.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| We’ll be check- |
His cell phone rings; he checks the number.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| I need to take this. |
13. INT. TRACE – LATE AFTERNOON
WOODY comes through the door. NIGEL looks up.
| NIGEL |
| Anything from the widow? |
WOODY
(shrugs) |
| She admits to switching the pills. (beat) She had a boyfriend. |
NIGEL
(cheesy grin) |
| I’m stunned. |
| WOODY |
| I let her walk. For now. |
WOODY leans over NIGEL’S shoulder.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| Help me out here, Nige. Give me something so I can nail her and
the boyfriend. |
| NIGEL |
| Well, I did get some hairs from the shirt. |
| WOODY |
| Great! I’ll pull in the boyfriend. If he won’t volunteer a
hair sample, I should have enough for a warrant. (beat) Anything else? Like
what cut him? |
NIGEL
(perplexed and not happy about it) |
| Not as such. |
| WOODY |
| What does that mean? |
| NIGEL |
| It means I can tell you what didn’t cut him. (beat, a little
more optimistic) I did get some skin cells from a couple of the bruises. |
| WOODY |
| Okay, okay. This’s good. It is. I can work with this. |
| NIGEL |
| Yeah, well, bring me DNA samples from the boyfriend and I’ll be
able to tell you if he’s your man. |
| WOODY |
| Oh, he is, Nige. He is. People never learn. They think we won’t
catch ‘em, but… yeah, it’s him. |
NIGEL nods. He watches WOODY for a moment and then clears his throat.
| NIGEL |
| Everything all right, then? |
| WOODY |
| Yeah… sure. Why wouldn’t…? |
He looks away, takes a moment and then gathers himself.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| She’s just being who she is. That’s all. |
| WOODY |
| She’s got a reason, Nigel. I know she does. |
NIGEL takes the hint and drops it.
| NIGEL |
| Yeah. All right then. I’ll start running some tests so when you
get those samples…. |
WOODY exits with NIGEL looking after him, a concerned expression on his face.
END OF ACT THREE
ACT FOUR
14. INT. WILL POLLACK’S LOUNGE ROOM – EARLY AFTERNOON (SYDNEY)
Tight focus on a framed picture of Sydney Harbour. There is a shadow on the
frame. The camera slowly pulls back and we see that it is JORDAN’S shadow;
she is studying the picture, which hangs on a bright, buttercup yellow wall.
Behind her is a lounge room, very comfortable with a couch, a couple of chairs,
a television and stereo set and a lot of people. This is a wake for POLLACK.
JORDAN’S eyes move along the framed gallery of photos. One is a family
photo: younger versions of WILL and J.D. POLLACK with two adults who must have
been their parents. There are several other candid photos. Looking at them,
JORDAN bites her lip. Toward one end, there is a photo of J.D. on The Five W’s,
working. JORDAN’S jaw clenches and her eyes mist. He’s really young,
smiling, beer in one hand, paintbrush in the other.
WILL rounds the corner from the kitchen.
JORDAN looks up.
| WILL |
| We’re gonna head over…. It’s just a few of these people. |
JORDAN nods.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| Righteeo. We’ll take the ferry over to Balmain. From there, it’s
a bit of a row in the dinghy, but I promise not to capsize us. |
JORDAN
(smiling a little) |
| That’s… fine. |
She takes another look at the boat picture.
15. EXT. DINGHY IN HARBOUR– MID AFTERNOON (SYDNEY)
JORDAN, WILL, ROSAMUND (WILL’S wife) and JASON FLANNIGAN (old family
friend) are in a small dinghy, heading for the Fives, which is moored
to a buoy a bit farther out. As he rows, WILL and JASON are telling JORDAN stories.
JORDAN
(laughing) |
| I don’t believe it. |
| WILL |
| I don’t know why Mum and Dad thought they could talk him out of
it. J.D. quit taking their advice when he was about seven was what Gran
always said. |
JORDAN
(getting serious) |
| He really did it? |
WILL
(nodding) |
| Miracle he and his mates (glance at JASON) didn’t get nicked. They
never would say how they managed it either. |
JORDAN shakes her head.
| JORDAN |
| Climbing the Bridge and putting… garbage bins… at
the top? |
WILL laughs as she ponders it. She smiles at him, before turning to gaze around
the harbour. They are all silent for a while, but it is a comfortable silence.
WILL’S face, as he watches JORDAN, is sad, but not grief-stricken; the other
two have similar expressions. They have accepted the past and are trying to honor
it.
WILL gestures to JORDAN to get her attention. He points and she cranes her
head around. The full-size version of the scale model Five W’s
is close. WILL gives another 3-4 good pulls on the oars and they bump alongside
the hull. He ties the tinny fast to the boat’s side and scrambles aboard,
offering JORDAN a hand.
16. EXT THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
JORDAN walks to the stern, holding the handrail as she is a bit wobbly. WILL
helps the other two aboard.
| WILL |
| Take a look around, Jordan. She is yours now, after all. |
JORDAN nods, a light breeze blowing her hair around her face. She studies the
boat as she would a cadaver – taking in the details, learning what she can
from a physical examination. The teak decking gleams as she walks along the starboard
side of the boat toward the bow. She stops at the mast and looks up, noting the
neatly furled and tied sails. As she continues, she passes the head, opening the
door to peer into the tiny space WILL goes below for a moment and returns with
a bottle of wine and some plastic glasses. JORDAN continues her exploration, standing,
for a moment, at the wheel. She looks back over the bow, toward Balmain and then
joins WILL and the others as he pours the wine and hands out the glasses. WILL
sets a fifth glass on the capstan, where a small urn already stands.
| WILL |
| If this’d’a been me, J.D. probably would have something really
great to say. |
| JASON |
| Even if he had to make it up. |
Smiles all around.
| WILL |
| I don’t – I’m not good at this stuff. So… um…
he was my brother. He was a pain in the arse, half the time, but I loved
him. (looks down briefly) He did some stupid things, some things he wasn’t
proud of, but he also did some really good things… that’s what
I’ll remember. |
He takes a quick look at the others and then lifts his glass up high.
| WILL |
| To those gone before. (pause) Cheers. |
JORDAN mouths the word but looks down into her wine. She takes only a small
sip. We fade.
17. EXT. THE FIVES – AROUND 5 P.M.
JORDAN is standing in the bow. The boat is not at its mooring, but has been
sailed into the Harbour a way. She is staring down at the water, where a thin
film of pale ash rides the waves. WILL comes up behind her and hands her another
glass of wine. She does not look up.

| WILL |
| For what? You haven’t heard my offer for The Fives yet.
|
He smiles, trying to lighten the moment,
JORDAN
(shaking her head) |
| For letting me be part of this. I – I thought I’d finished
saying… goodbye. In Boston. When it – when he died. |
| WILL |
| You wanna know something, Jordan? |
She arches an eyebrow to prompt him to continue.
| WILL (cont’d) |
| I’m not sure we ever finish saying goodbye. Not to the people who
mattered to us. (he looks down at the water) What’s more? I think
that’s okay. |
JORDAN shakes her head dubiously.
WILL
(looking straight at her now) |
| Hold on to the good things, Jordan. Let go of all the ones you can’t
change. Don’t let those “might’ve” moments mean
more than what’s in the future. |
A look of pain and confusion crosses JORDAN’S face. She nods slowly.
| JORDAN |
| Do you mind… I’d like a little time… here. |
WILL nods.
| WILL |
| I can take Rose and Jase back and then come get you. Good? |
18. EXT THE FIVES ON DECK – EARLY AFTERNOON (SYDNEY)
JORDAN is sitting on the deck, alone. She glances over to the capstan, now
empty of wine glass and urn. She pulls out her cell phone. She dials.
19 . INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT – LATE NIGHT (BOSTON)
WOODY is sitting on his couch, dressed in sweats. He has a beer in hand and
there is an open pizza box on the coffee table. The TV is on – a basketball
game – but there’s no sound. WOODY’S eyes cut down to his
cell phone, next to the box. It’s vibrating. He reaches for it and checks
the number. His eyes close briefly and he hesitates. He flips open the phone.
| WOODY |
| So help me, Jordan, if you say ‘G’day, mate….’ |
20. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
21. INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
WOODY groans.
22. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
| JORDAN |
| Geez. Let me finish, will ya? Before you start the doom and gloom. |
23. INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
WOODY looks toward the ceiling, as if asking for patience.
| WOODY |
| All right. Sorry. (beat) Go ahead. |
24. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
| JORDAN |
| I’m sorry I didn’t… talk to you before – before
I left. I – uh – I guess I – I… crap, this is…
hard. I couldn’t even explain to myself why I was doing it. |
25. INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
| WOODY |
| Doing what, Jordan? |
26. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
JORDAN
(like she didn’t hear him) |
| It was just that… he left me this – this boat. I know it sounds…
weird- |
27. INT WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
| WOODY |
| A boat? What’re you talking about? |
28. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
JORDAN
(still as if she isn’t hearing WOODY) |
| And I don’t know. I felt… like I – I owed him. Something.
|
29. INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
| WOODY |
| Pollack? Wait, Pollack left you a boat and you owed him something? (beat)
You lost me. |
30. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
JORDAN runs a hand through her hair.
| JORDAN |
| Look, I’m booked on the first flight out tomorrow, gets in to Logan
around dinnertime. Can I explain it all then? |
31. INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTUINING
WOODY sighs and his eyes close as his head falls back against the couch.
32. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
| JORDAN |
| Woody? (long beat) Are we okay? I – I need us to be okay. |
33. INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
WOODY opens his eyes. He smiles slightly, almost in spite of himself, it seems.
| WOODY |
| You’re coming home, right? |
34. EXT. THE FIVES ON DECK - CONTINUING
| JORDAN |
| Yeah. First flight tomorrow. |
1. INT. WOODY’S APARTMENT - CONTINUING
| WOODY |
| That’s a start. (beat) Jordan? |
Her reply is muffled.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| Just don’t bring home any koalas or – or dingoes or whatever.
‘K. |
There are more muffled sounds – this time laughter.
36. INT. INTERROGATION ROOM ONE – ABOUT 11 A.M.
WOODY and CHRIS BAKER, MRS. MUELLER’S boyfriend, are sitting, facing
one another, at the table. WOODY’S face is neutral; the boyfriend’s
posture is slumped, his head is down. He’s drumming his fingers on the
table in a fast, anxious rhythm.
| WOODY |
| We already know you were sleeping with her. (beat) She told us. |
| CHRIS BAKER |
| Okay, yeah. We were – we were having an affair. (looks up) But I
swear, I didn’t touch her husband. I’ve never even been anywhere
near that house! |
WOODY
(clucks his tongue) |
| You know we’re going to find out you’re lying, right? |
| CHRIS BAKER |
| I’m not lying! I – We always met at – at my brother’s
place. |
| WOODY |
| Right. And last week, when she was out of town, you went over to her house.
You knew she’d switched his heart pills and that it would be a perfect
time to go and – scare him. |
| CHRIS BAKER |
| No! God, why can’t you listen? She told me about the pills this
morning. |
| WOODY |
| When you and she were figuring out what you’d say. |
CHRIS BAKER drops his head again and sighs deeply.
| CHRIS BAKER |
| What can I do to convince you? |
WOODY smiles.
| WOODY |
| Well, here’s the thing…. |
37. INT. TRACE – AROUND NOON
NIGEL is checking something in the microscope. The room is a mess – text-type
books and Nige’s famous “guide to…” books are scattered
everywhere. NIGEL sits back and glares at the microscope.
WOODY enters, big grin, holding several evidence bags.
| WOODY |
| Look what I’ve got! |
He waits for a response. His face falls when he doesn’t get one.
| WOODY (cont’) |
| It’s hair. And an oral swab. From the boyfriend. |
| WOODY |
| Whaddya’ mean it won’t help? It’ll prove- |
NIGEL takes a deep breath and expels it loudly. He looks exhausted, frustrated
and even a bit defeated.
| NIGEL |
| Our hair sample? Our skin cells? (WOODY nods) Not from the boyfriend. |
| WOODY |
| You haven’t even compared them yet! (hesitates) Oh! They’re
from a woman? Like the vomit at Midas’ club! |
WOODY
(confused) |
| Um…Nige… isn’t it kinda one or the other? |
| NIGEL |
| Sure. I just can’t tell which. |
WOODY doesn’t reply, just looks at him.
| NIGEL (cont’d) |
| Neither the hair nor the DNA are human. |
END OF ACT FOUR
ACT FIVE
38. INT. TRACE – MOMENTS LATER
WOODY is looking in the microscope now. NIGEL still looks depressed.
| WOODY |
| So, how can you tell again? |
| NIGEL |
| The shaft…it’s all wrong. See, in humans… |
He lapses into forensic techno babble.
| WOODY |
| In English? Please? |
BUG enters before NIGEL can answer. He looks at the odd tableau and frowns.
| WOODY |
| Nigel can’t figure out what this hair is. |
| NIGEL |
| It’s not human. I know that. |
BUG motions WOODY aside and looks into the scope. He makes some adjustments, studies
the hair for a moment and then stands back.
| BUG |
| It’s Macropus giganteus. |
| WOODY |
| What the heck is that? |
BUG
(to WOODY) |
| An Eastern Grey Kangaroo. |
WOODY
(very confused) |
| But – um – I mean… we don’t have kangaroos. (beat)
Do we? |
| BUG |
| Well, the zoo does. And sometimes people keep them as pets. |
NIGEL grins suddenly and hurries to his computer. He types in a quick search and
all but jumps and down when the page comes up.
| NIGEL |
| Here it is! Buggles, you’re brilliant! |
| BUG |
| I am and don’t call me that. |
| NIGEL |
| No, no, no. When you said “pets.” I remembered a story I read.
News of the Weird sort of thing, you know? |
NIGEL ignores this.
NIGEL points to the story.
WOODY and BUG lean in.
WOODY
(reading) |
| Escaped Pet Kangaroo Still at Large – neighbors hopping mad.
(groans) Despite ongoing efforts by the Forestry Department, the SPCA
and local conservationists, Pittsfield’s most notable resident –
an Eastern Grey Kangaroo named Sylvia – continues to elude capture.
The eight-year old family pet escaped last August. Sightings have been coming
in ever since, but no one can get close to the fast-moving marsupial. (looks
up) Is this for real? |
| NIGEL |
| I should think so. There was even a discussion of it on one of those drive
time shows on the radio. Callers got quite… agitated. Personally,
I didn’t think she’d make it through the winter. |
| WOODY |
| So… my perp is a – a – a…? |
| BUG |
| A Macropus giganteus. An Eastern Grey Kangaroo. (looks at article
again) Apparently named Sylvia. |
| NIGEL |
| For Sylvia Plath, do you suppose? |
WOODY hangs his head.
39. EXT. DEPARTURES KINGSFORD-SMITH AIRPORT SYDNEY – MORNING
JORDAN and WILL are standing outside the departures hall at Sydney’s
airport. WILL hands her an envelope. Through the open flap at the top, we can
see a bank check. As WILL gives her the sale price of his brother’s boat,
he asks a question.

| WILL |
| You’re sure about this? |
JORDAN nods and then smiles a bit.
| JORDAN |
| The Fives belongs... here. |
| WILL |
| You could always come back. |
JORDAN shakes her head and smiles more, that smile she has when she knows it’s
something that’s never going to happen.
| JORDAN |
| I don’t... I doubt it. (long beat) But I’m glad I came. Thank
you. |
WILL hangs his head for a moment. When he looks up, he is smiling at her. It is
a bittersweet smile, much like the one POLLACK gave JORDAN the night he left her.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| Your brother... |
WILL
(grinning) |
| Was a pain in the arse? |
JORDAN laughs.
| JORDAN |
| At times. (wide smile) Yeah... that. But – um – he also came
into my life at a time when... let’s just say I’d screwed up
another relationship... worse than usual. |
JORDAN
(faint blush) |
| God, he did tell you everything. (beat) Yeah. Woody. I – I don’t
know. Polla- J.D. – He... he.... |
She is at a loss for words for a moment.
| JORDAN (cont’d) |
| Even though we had problems, he meant more to me than I realized. |
WILL nods slowly. The moment could be awkward, but it isn’t; it’s
quiet, a definite ending, but an ending chosen this time. WILL moves to hug her
and JORDAN lets him. WILL pulls back. There is nothing more to say, so JORDAN
shoulders her bag and heads inside. WILL watches her go, his face pensive, but
understanding.
40. EXT. MUELLER’S BACKYARD - AFTERNOON
NIGEL and WOODY are in the MUELLERS’ backyard, looking for evidence of
the marsupial perpetrator. Near the fence line, NIGEL snaps a picture and calls
over WOODY.
Throughout the entire backyard scenes, the neighbor’s dog barks.
NIGEL
(pointing) |
| I’d say this is where Sylvia jumped over the fence. |
WOODY peers at the ground, where NIGEL is pointing. Then, he looks up at the fence.
| WOODY |
| Fence looks pretty tall. |
| NIGEL |
| Eastern grays can jump about ten feet. |
WOODY
(eyeing the fence again) |
| Or not. (beat) So... Syl – the kangaroo jumps the fence... why? |
| NIGEL |
| Why does any animal do most things? |
NIGEL nods.
| WOODY (cont’d) |
| So Syl – the kangaroo was being chased? |
| NIGEL |
| I doubt it. Not many things can take down a kangaroo. (looks around) No,
I’d say she was attracted to the Muellers’ landscaping. |
WOODY and NIGEL begin to follow a series of indentations in the ground. The path
leads them toward a circular enclosure of flowering grasses and green plants.
| NIGEL (cont’d) |
| Decoration to us; all-you-can-eat buffet to Sylvia. |
He holds up a nibbled leaf.
WOODY nods and turns his gaze toward the house. It’s possible to see the
smashed French doors, but not easy.
| WOODY |
| All right, so Syl – the kangaroo was here for the menu. Why’d
Mr. Mueller come out here? He couldn’t have seen... her...it... could
he? |
NIGEL looks like he’s doing calculations in his head.
| NIGEL |
| Could have. But he would have to be looking for something, I’d say. |
| WOODY |
| All right, whatever. He comes out here. And... what? |
| NIGEL |
| I’ll be Mr. Mueller. |
WOODY gives him a look that says This time you have really gone nuts.