TWO-FACED DEATH

A BLUEPRINT

Black.

Shadows which don’t belong to the objects casting them.

Crisp light illuminates the scene of the crime.

A man, MARK ESSEX, stands amidst the disarray.

A woman, VICTORIA CENTRUM, sits against a wall.

Essex wears a towelling bathrobe and carries a toothbrush and a towel, while Centrum wears sports gear and mascara which has run.

A pistol in the middle of the floor.

A desk with the body behind it, its legs protruding.

(On the desk are desky things or nothing at all. A diary, a phone, a paper-bag).

An overturned chair.

A bloody palm-print is clear on the wall.

ESSEX: Victoria? The police are on their way.

CENTRUM: They are?

ESSEX: Yes. A man called Inspector Lennon.

CENTRUM: Not John?

ESSEX: Funnily enough yes.

Does she smile or laugh?

CENTRUM: A man named after a dead rock star investigating the death of a dead playwright. I’ll look back on this, chuckle nervously and change the subject.

ESSEX: I know it’s hard.

Pause.

ESSEX: Did you see anything?

CENTRUM: No. Nothing.

ESSEX: Are you sure? Because Inspector Lennon will want to know.

CENTRUM: I’m sure. I’m positive I didn’t see anyone.

ESSEX: Do you want a cup of tea or anything.

CENTRUM: Marc! Don’t leave me alone alone.

ESSEX: I wont.

He sits next to her.

ESSEX: I know that you two were close.

She slumps in on her self and sobs? Or does she just rack herself silently?

ESSEX: The person who did this will be caught.

CENTRUM: He will?

ESSEX: Inspector Lennon is the best. No stone unturned. No clue overlooked.

Beat

ESSEX: Some say that he uses arcane forces in his battle against crime.

CENTRUM: He does?

ESSEX: Some say.

CENTRUM: I don’t care how he does it as long as – oh God.

She begins to rack.

Essex puts his arm around her.

ESSEX: It’ll be okay.

He spots the bloody hand print. He holds his gaze on it a while.

ESSEX: It’ll be okay. Honestly.

Fade down, fade up.

Same as before. Victoria is more composed. Essex is standing. INSPECTOR JOHN LENNON is on the case.

LENNON: There’s a gun on the floor and a dead man covered in white powder behind the desk. And we have a suitcase full of pressed non-sequential bills. Do you realise what this means, Essex?

ESSEX:Drugs?

LENNON: Paperwork. Accountability. We could easily deny the existence of this case and I could retire quietly to the Bahamas and spend the rest of my

days and this money drinking alcohol from funny shaped glasses with umbrellas in them. I would have a wonderful tan and beautiful fully figured women waving their grass skirted behinds in my, no-doubt leering, face. I can see it now.

ESSEX: Why tell me, Sir?

LENNON: Every perfect plan has its flaws and you’re mine.

ESSEX: There was a struggle.

LENNON: And quite a fantastic one by the looks of it.

ESSEX: I’ll get the gun.

LENNON: Pistol.

ESSEX: I’ll get the pistol, then.

LENNON: No! No one can disturb the scene until the lab-boys and girls get here. Just let me get ready.

Lennon opens the case he is holding and puts on rubber gloves. He then begins to assemble a camera.

Essex examines the room. He double-takes when he sees the palm-print. He smears it into unrecognisable oblivion using the towel, which he folds to hide the stain.

Lennon doesn’t see.

Lennon starts taking photos and describing the scene. Essex stands by, innocent as can be.

LENNON: I’m here. So let’s review: Man; dead.Snap!Silenced pistol, presumably fired into man, dead.Snap!Chair, overturned.Snap!Bag on desk, contents unknown.Snap!Hand print; bloody.Snap!You may collect the pistol now.

Lennon begins to disassemble the camera.

Essex picks up the pistol by the handle.

LENNON: What in the name of God’s balls are you doing!?

Essex drops the pistol.

Use the toothbrush and then get yourself printed! You useless . . . you . . . you... civilian!

Lennon returns to the camera.

Essex tries repeatedly and unsuccessfully to insert the toothbrush haft into the barrel of the gun.

Essex gives up and places the pistol by the handle onto the toothbrush.

LENNON: You were first at the scene?

ESSEX: I live in the building.

LENNON: You heard the shots and came-

ESSEX: -No, I heard screams, then gunfire.

LENNON: Male or female.

ESSEX: Well, female. The pitch indicating extreme distress and an approximate age of about twenty-five. The length of the scream suggests a woman with a large lung capacity. Not a foreigner to anaerobic exercise. A runner perhaps.

LENNON: Perhaps. PauseTell me - have you ever heard of an audit?

ESSEX: Tax audit?

LENNON: Emotional-

ESSEX: Nope. Never heard the word before.

LENNON: I ask purely out of personal self interest.

ESSEX: What interest?

LENNON: I have no idea whatsoever - it was written on a pad on the desk.Snap!An emotional audit . . . religious perhaps? Or something altogether a little bit more . . . sinister. You never know what these creative types do in their own time. More than likely they call it art. More than likely it’s just perversion and decadence.Snap!So you were first on the scene - first impressions?

ESSEX: I had to calm Miss Centrems down.

LENNON: I thought you were first on the scene.

ESSEX: We arrived mere nanoseconds apart.

LENNON: First equal then. Who -

ESSEX: No.

LENNON: What?

ESSEX: We were second equal.

LENNON: First being the Human Target here I suppose.

ESSEX: Yes.

LENNON: Why are your reports always this laboured, Essex?

ESSEX: I get nervous, Sir.

LENNON: You’re a member of the Amateur dramatics society, aren’t you?

ESSEX: Yes, sir.

LENNON: You act for god's sake, Essex! This job is no different.

ESSEX: But I’m me, Sir. When I’m on stage, I’m someone else. It’s as if I am freed from myself, and can pursue, and do things I wouldn’t normally do.

LENNON: Well, at least act like a detective then. Go and get dressed.

Essex leaves, handing Lennon the gun-brush

Blackout.

CLEAN SCENE

Lennon puts his camera back in the case and begins to unpack.

A black tarp is placed over and tucked under the corpse.

A thermos is placed on the desk.

The chair is righted.

Several glade air fresheners are placed around the corpse.

A picture-frame is placed around the bloody handprint.

Lennon sits down at the desk, picks up the phone, poises to dial, reconsiders, and hangs up.

He steeples his hands.

LENNON: Come in - the door’s open.

Silence, nothing, no one.

He opens the paper-bag on the desk and takes out an opaque jar.

He studies it.

He tries to open it - he can’t.

He places it on the table and stares at it.

He holds it to the light.

He shakes it.

LENNON: Just as I feared. Nothing.

The phone rings.

Lennon pauses before picking it up.

LENNON: Hello? - No, I’m not him - me? Inspector Lennon. - Yes, Police. - No. He’s... not... available to the phone. - Yes, it is a police matter. - I can’t say that I know. - Could be. - No. - That’s rather forward of you. How did you know that? - Cream filled. South Island blend. - Why, yes. A Dunedin bean fields man through and through. - I can see you through the window? Why would I spoil the surprise? - No, you come on up- Don’t be coy. - Cheeky ... okay: I’m wearing a sky-blue silk gown; it shimmies over my skin; my nipples are hard. I like the sensation of me moving in my clothes. What are you wearing? - How short? - Black? Red? - Red. - I like long black stockings with suspender belts. - No, I’m chained to the desk. - Yes, I have several sets of handcuffs- several years of collecting. I also have a sizeable baton. - No, I don’t use it much, only to force submission; a little submission goes a long way. - No, I’m not laughing . . . Essex returns.Could you call back? - You sure? - Great! See you later.He hangs up.You’re looking much more presentable.

ESSEX: Thank you sir. Any developments?

LENNON: Victim’s name is Thomas Middleton.

ESSEX: The English renaissance playwright, Sir?

LENNON: So it would appear.

ESSEX: What’s a dead literary great doing dead in my building?

LENNON: He’s not that great.

ESSEX: Admittedly - but he is one of the few playwrights to sort of survive in the shadow of Shakespeare.

LENNON: He was damned lucky to last this long -I would’ve shot him.

A burst of spooky music.

ESSEX: Does that make you a prime suspect then, Sir?

LENNON: In your wildest dreams Essex. If being a suspect involves lying near a puddle of your own vomit in a comatose inebriated state, then make me Prime. Other than that: shut up.

ESSEX: Do we have any subjects? I mean, suspects?

LENNON: I’ll add you to the Death of the English language case, but for this one? No, none.

ESSEX: So we’re waiting for an act of God?

LENNON: Or at least a major piece of improvisation.Pause.

ESSEX: Now what?

LENNON: We wait.

ESSEX: For what?

LENNON: For photos to develop, prints to run, ballistics tested, known acquaintances to be drawn, horoscopes cast, biorhythms charted, tarot’s read, psychic searches, psychic searchers, divination and a touch of ouija board.

ESSEX: Eht Rekees has disappeared.

LENNON: You have got to be joking -

ESSEX: Disappeared without trace, car left in her disignated park at the police station.

LENNON: When?

ESSEX: Last night. Her timetable and movements unknown.Pause

LENNON: Very convenient.

ESSEX: Yes, sir. A murder and a disappearance in the same town is too much of a coincidence, even for Serendipity city.

LENNON: Your arse-hole sarcasm is duly noted Essex.Pause.

ESSEX: What’s the time o’ venerable master?

Lennon does not refer to a clock

LENNON: Nine forty-five.

ESSEX: Cuppa?

LENNON: With this workload?

ESSEX: Come on, it’s only one murder.

LENNON: True. Perspective becomes skewed in this job. I've become jaded, fuzzy.

ESSEX: Age and excessive alcohol abuse will do that. Sir.

LENNON; Are you taking the piss?

ESSEX: I won’t lie to you, Sir.Silence

LENNON: Yes?

ESSEX: I said, “I won’t lie to you, Sir” Sir.

LENNON: You could have at least tried you lazy bastard.

ESSEX: I have ethics.

LENNON: You jumped up, self-important... even Hitler had ethics.Pause

ESSEX: Your mother?

Blackout

COMPLICATIONSLennon alone at the desk.

Revolver is on it, an envelope under it.

Lennon goes to the door.

He gets a corkboard and places in on the wall. On it are photos’ of the crime-scene.

He sits and opens the envelope.

He examines the contents: To wit: A sheaf of papers; A couple of photos; Another sealed envelope; A cassette tape.

He flicks through the papers.

The phone rings.

He picks it up and then hangs up.

He begins to read the papers in more detail.

LENNON: Idiot.

The phone rings.

He picks it up and hangs up.

He spreads the photos’ over the desk.

He frowns.

He holds the envelope to the light.

He opens it.

He pulls out a slim slip of paper.

He reads it.

LENNON: In a pickle, in a jam, Saints preserve us, there I am. Love Eht.

He places the note on the table.

LENNON; Eht? Darling disappeared Eht? Nothing for eht.

The phone rings.

He picks it up. Pause.

LENNON: Yes- Lennon here. - Why, hello. You’ve been in my thoughts all day. - Ah no, couldn’t really drink with you in a bar. - I said nothing about a cafe. How about it? - Coffee? . I like my coffee as it comes - the excitement’s in the not knowing what someone will see me as: Short and black. Sweet and blonde. Blonde on two legs. Blonde and standing on it’s own. Black and bitter. - Two o’clock tomorrow? - Good. Be seeing you then.He hangs up, the phone rings instantly.Hello? - Yes, Sir. The case is trundling along. - Yes, sir. New developments every second. In fact: also a lead into our missing Seeker. - Yes, Ms. Rednif. - A note, of all things. Riddles. Most confusing. Most irritating. - Suspects? One or two.Essex enters carrying two cups of coffee.

Yes, sir. He's being a great help. -Yes, sir. He is in the room. - No,nothing but the highest praise for him.- I’m quite free with the truth around Inspector Essex. - Certainly, Sir. First thing Monday. - On a personal level, Frank. Deirdre and I were wondering if you’d like to come around for a drink? -Friday? - That is a shame. Maybe some other time, then. - Certainly. Sir. - Good bye.

He hangs up and crosses to Essex, who hands him the cup. Lennon raises to sip, but before he can Essex butts in.

ESSEX: Any progress?

LENNON: I’m taking a break.

Again with the butting before he can sip.

ESSEX: But- any progress?

LENNON: Essex - I find it a hell of a lot easier to think . . . to ruminate with a quantity of caffeine stimulating my nervous system.

ESSEX: Sure, Sir, but what about the case?

LENNON: The Case?He puts his coffee down.The case, I find, Essex, is like one of those ‘Magic-eye’ puzzles. It’s made up of all these strange parts that make no sense. So you stare at it for an age, you hold it up at arms' length and stare. You bring it closer. You blink, you lose it. You almost give up and then your eyes go slightly out of focus and your mind wonders. And then... something clicks, shapes lock, colours merge and the hidden image leaps out at you. That’s what the case is about.

Pause.

ESSEX: I can never get those things.

LENNON: It takes patience.Silence.

With great deliberation Lennon raises his cup of coffee to his lips. He stops. A second. He sniffs. Further seconds.

LENNON: Are you trying to poison me?

ESSEX: Sir?

LENNON: Almonds.

ESSEX: Almonds?

LENNON: Cyanide.

ESSEX: Cyanide?

LENNON: Are you trying to poison me?

ESSEX: Good God! No!

LENNON: So why does my coffee have cyanide in it.

ESSEX: It doesn’t.

LENNON: So why does it smell like almonds?

ESSEX: I’ll swap you.pauseI said I’ll swap you.

LENNON: You’ve poisoned both.

ESSEX; I fucking well have not! Look!He drinks.See! Am I dead? No. Still want to swap?

LENNON: You’ve drunk from it.

Pause. Lennon puts his cup down.

ESSEX: There’s something not quite right about you - Anyway, it’s a fallacy.

LENNON: What is?

ESSEX; Thinking clearer after a coffee. It’s a fallacy.

LENNON: It is, is it?

ESSEX: It is.

LENNON: You must be under the influence of coffee, then.

ESSEX: I’ll get you.

LENNON: Oh, yes?

ESSEX: Yeah.

LENNON: Cyanide in my coffee?Essex shakes his head. Lennon picks up the cup of coffee.Drink it.

ESSEX: Get off it.

LENNON: Go on, Essex, drink it: prove me wrong.

ESSEX: I don’t have to prove anything you wanker.

LENNON: Only when I’m off duty. Drink it.

ESSEX; No.

LENNON: Drink it, Essex.

ESSEX: Make me. Sir . . .

LENNON: If you’re sure.Lennon picks up the revolver.I said ‘drink it’, Mark.

ESSEX: Like fuck, John.Lennon cocks the gun.

Black out.

Lights up. Essex stands in the space.

The phone rings.

No reaction from Essex.

It keeps ringing.

Eventually.

ESSEX: Hello.Pause.Who is this?Pause.I don’t care what you say, you sick bitch. I’m a police officer and I can have this call traced.Pause.How dare you!He hangs up.

The phone rings again.

It rings ten times and stops.

Pause.

The phone begins to ring again.

ESSEX: Just fuck off!pauseI’m sorry, sir. No, Lennon isn’t in at the moment. - No - an obscene phone caller pestering us. - Sorry, Sir. Lost my temper. - I’ll try not to let it get the better of me in future. - I’ll tell Inspector Lennon you rang.

Essex hangs up.

He sits down at the desk - adjusting the seat.

He picks the jar out of the bag.

He tries to open it - failure.

He opens the drawer and frisks it. He slips something from the drawer into his pocket.

He knocks the jar lid against the desk edge a couple of times.

He tries to open it: failure.

Noise off stage.

He quickly puts the jar back in the bag and shuts the drawer.

He returns quickly to the center of the room.

Lennon enters.

LENNON: Were there any messages?

ESSEX: No-one rang. It was as quiet as the grave. - How was lunch?

LENNON: I didn’t eat lunch.

ESSEX: Where did you go?

LENNON: To a little franchised fast food restaurant on the main street. She ate burger while I charmed the panties off her.

ESSEX:Did you fuck her?

Lennon sits down at the desk - notices the seat adjustment.

LENNON: No, it was just an innocent sort of thing. Fast food and innocent conversation. We were babes in the wood.

ESSEX: You fucked her, didn’t you?

LENNON: We held hands and I escorted her to her car. She kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear,

ESSEX: You fucked her.

LENNON: I’ll see her tomorrow night.

ESSEX: What’s in the jar?Silence.

LENNON: You adjusted my seat.

ESSEX: What’s in the jar.

LENNON: It’s confidential.

ESSEX: As confidential as cheating on your wife?

LENNON: You’re being a tad accusational right at this moment in time.

ESSEX: Why are you hiding things from me?

LENNON: That’s confidential.The phone rings.

Pause.

ESSEX: Answer it.

LENNON: Think I won’t?He answers it.Hello, inspector Lennon speaking. - Hi. - I did too. Still on for tomorrow night? - Good, good. Essex reveals the revolver.That’s interesting. - No, no I’m not not interested its just Essex . . .Essex waves the revolver in his face....has an urgent need for my help. - I will call back. - Hear you soon.He hangs up.

LENNON: What the hell are you doing? You’re the one aren’t you. - Your palm print . . . Your finger prints on the gun.

ESSEX: I’m going to shoot you in the face and then send your genitals to your ladyfriend.

LENNON; She won’t recognise them.

ESSEX: Or your wife? I’m not sure which. Maybe a testicle each?

LENNON: I’m not married either.

ESSEX: I’ll just shoot you in the face then.

LENNON: May I ask why?

ESSEX: That’s confidential.

LENNON: Do you want to know what’s in the jar?

ESSEX: Not really. Do you still want to know why I did it?

LENNON: Not really. I’m just assuming that you’re a dull little psychopath.

ESSEX: I resent the implication.

LENNON: Tough. I received a tape yesterday.

ESSEX: So?

LENNON: May I play it before you shoot me?

ESSEX: So you can have two seconds of comfort in hearing what’s on the tape?

LENNON: Every second counts.

ESSEX; Not really.

LENNON: It’s all relative: every second I still live is sweeter than honey. My time is obviously short and the longer that I survive past that knowledge the more I appreciate the time that that is.

ESSEX: Ever played murder in the dark?

LENNON: Are you going to blindfold me, then shoot me in the face?

ESSEX: Close.He turns the lights off, and fires the revolver blindly in the direction of the seated Lennon.

Flash!

Flash!And then . . .

Click!

Followed by . . .

Several more Clicks.

LENNON: You are thick. it’s not reloaded. And you missed by a mile. There is a thud as Lennon clubs Essex with the jar.

Lennon turns on the lights. Essex is on his knees cradling his head.

ESSEX: Ow! What did you do that for? That hurt.

LENNON: It was intended to stave in your incredibly thick skull.

ESSEX: That’s not fair.

LENNON: Life never is. Especially when you’re a dull little psycho with no social graces and a mother fixation.

ESSEX: Your mother?

Lennon takes the revolver and reloads it with shell from his pocket.

LNNON: That’s amusing. Yes, I do enjoy slipping my mother the odd length. One of the few perks to having a step mother late in life. Technically it’s

incest. But really, it isn’t. I wouldn’t worry about it too much if I were you.

ESSEX: I won’t. I don’t worry.

LENNON: Not even about your impending arrest?

ESSEX: Not now that your prints are on the revolver.Lennon dials.

LENNON: Yes, could I please have unit’s to ... yes, that’s correct . . . on their way already? Thank you very much.

ESSEX: You’d do that to your own partner?

LENNON: Shut up and go and stand in the corner.

Essex goes and stands in the corner.

Lennon returns to the desk and produces the tape and a tape player.

He plays the tape.

Blackout.

TWO FACED DEATH: MORE IDEAS.

Lennon, Meredith and Essex.

Lennon vaguely dis-interested.

ESSEX: Are you sure, really sure, that someone is… toying with us?

MEREDITH: Positive.

ESSEX: Sir? What about you?

LENNON: Do you see the victim?

Pause.

ESSEX: I hadn’t noticed until you mentioned it sir. How did it vanish?

LENNON: We’re as much in the dark as you.

MEREDITH: Well someone cut the power, came in and stole a body while we were here.

ESSEX: In the same room?

LENNON: Of course we bloody were!

ESSEX: I need to check these things.

OPENING:

“The same old thing!” Bertolt Brecht.

IMAGE:Empty frames around the walls.

Lennon and Meredith

MEREDITH: So … he’s a sacrifice?

LENNON: it would seem so.

MEREDITH: But to what end?

LENNON: I don’t… know. I honestly don’t know.

MEREDITH: We’re being toyed with, aren’t we? All the clues- all the witnesses- him! They all mean something. We just can’t see it. Why can’t we see it?

LENNON: Because it’s not there.

BLACKOUT

LENNON: Now what?

MEREDITH: Brown out?

LENNON: God is playing with us.

MEREDITH: Someone is.

Silence

MEREDITH: John? John, where are you?

LENNON: I’m here. Just thinking.

MEREDITH: Where-

The table is knocked

MEREDITH: -oh damn.

LENNON: Stay where you are.

MEREDITH: I won’t move.

LENNON: Give me your hand.

Pause.

MEREDITH: You’ve got warm hands.

LENNON: Yours are cold.

MEREDITH: They don’t feel cold.

LENNON: They’re warming up.

MEREDITH: I guess that’s the difference between men and women- hands.