his toadlike savoir faire, but he's not about to go back in there. The man in there didn't just kill MARTHA CLARENDON; he knew where ROBBIE was when ROBBIE'S mother died. He knew ROBBIE'S name.
The WIND GUSTS, blowing ROBBIE'S gray-streaked hair back from his brow . . . and the first few snowflakes of the Storm of the Century go dancing past his face.
68 INTERIOR: ANDERSON'S MARKET, WITH MIKE, HATCH, ONLOOKERS.
MIKE stands with the microphone in his hand, trying to think what to do next. As CAT WITHERS
takes the mike and racks it, he makes up his mind.
49
MIKE (to HATCH) Let's take another ride, all right?
HATCH
Sure. . .
MIKE
Cat, you and Tess're minding the store. (raising his voice) All you folks just stay and finish your shopping, all right? There's nothing you can do on Atlantic Street, and whatever's happened over there, you'll know it soon enough.
As he speaks, he moves behind the cash register. He reaches beneath it.
69 INTERIOR: THE SHELF, CLOSE-UP.
On it are a .38 and a pair of handcuffs. MIKE takes both.
70 INTERIOR: ANGLE ON MIKE.
He puts the handcuffs in one coat pocket and the .38 in the other. This is done quickly and deftly none of the goggle-eyed customers see. CAT and TESS do, though, and it brings the reality of the situation home to them: crazy as it may be, there could be a dangerous criminal on Little Tall.
CAT Do you want me to call your wives?
MIKE Absolutely not.
Then he looks at the avidly watching islanders. If CAT doesn't, one of them will, as soon as he or she can reach the nearest phone.
MIKE
Yeah, I guess you better. But make sure they know the situation is under control.
71 EXTERIOR: ANDERSON'S MARKET.
MIKE and HATCH hurry down the steps, and THE CAMERA TRACKS THEM to the Island Services utility vehicle. The snow is still just flurrying, but we can see that it's thicker now.
50
HATCH Snow's early.
MIKE stops with one hand on the driver's side doorhandle. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself, then lets it out.
MIKE Yeah, it is. Let's go.
They get in and drive away. Meantime, people have been drifting out onto the porch, watching them.
72 EXTERIOR: THE ROBBIE BEALS MANNEQUIN.
The propeller on the beanie is now turning briskly.
73 EXTERIOR: THE TOWN DOCK.
The waves CRASH HIGH against the pilings, throwing spray. The work of securing the boats and getting loose gear undercover has progressed quite a bit. We FOCUS IN on GEORGE KIRBY (an older guy sixtyish), ALEX HABER (thirty-five), and CAL FREESE (a twenty-something). ALEX points west, toward the end of the docks and the reach beyond.
ALEX HABER
Looka there, at the mainland.
74 EXTERIOR: MAINLAND, FROM THE DOCK'S POINT OF VIEW.
The mainland is about two miles away, and quite clear gray-green woods, mostly.
75 EXTERIOR: RESUME DOCK, WITH SONNY, ALEX, AND CAL.
ALEX HABER
When you can't see over there no more, it's time to get in while you can. And when you can't even see the reach no more, it's time to head down to the town hall, whether you've heard the siren or not.
CAL FREESE (to GEORGE) How bad do you think it'll be, Unc?
51
GEORGE KIRBY
Maybe the worst we ever saw. Come on, help me with the last of these nets. (pause) I wonder if that fool Beals has any slight idear what he's doin up there?
76 EXTERIOR: ATLANTIC STREET, IN FRONT OF MARTHA'S HOUSE.
The fool BEALS is still being the good sentry, standing in front of his Lincoln with his .38 pointed at the open door of the CLARENDON house. Snow is coming down more thickly now; it's scattered across the shoulders of his topcoat like dandruff. He's been here for a while.
Down below, a little gathering of WATCHERS (MRS. KINGSBURY and DAVEY HOPEWELL are back among them) moves aside to allow the Island Services vehicle through. It pulls up beside the Lincoln. MIKE gets out from behind the wheel, HATCH from the passenger seat.
HATCH
You want the shotgun?
MIKE
I guess we better have it. You just make sure the safety's on, Alton Hatcher.
HATCH leans back into the truck, fumbles, and reappears with the shotgun that is ordinarily kept latched under the dash. HATCH ostentatiously checks the safety, and then they approach ROBBIE.
ROBBIE'S attitude toward MIKE all through this is one of confrontation and contempt. The history of these feelings will never be fully explored, but its basis is undoubtedly ROBBIE'S desire to keep all the reins of power in his own hands.
ROBBIE
It's about time.
MIKE Put that thing away, Robbie.
ROBBIE
No such thing, Constable Anderson. You do your job, I'll do mine.
MIKE
Your job is real estate. Would you at least lower it, please? (pause) Come on, Robbie it's in my face, and I know it's loaded.
52
ROBBIE grudgingly lowers the .38. HATCH, meanwhile, is looking nervously at the open door and the overturned walker.
MIKE
What happened?
ROBBIE
I was driving over to the town office when I saw Davey Hopewell running down the middle of the street.
(points toward DAVEY)
He said Martha Clarendon was dead murdered. I didn't believe him, but it's true. She's . . .
awful.
MIKE You said the person who did it was still inside.
ROBBIE He spoke to me.
HATCH
And said what?
ROBBIE (nervous, lying)
Told me to get out. I think he said for me to get out or he'd kill me, too. I don't know. And this hardly seems like the right time for an interrogation.
MIKE What did he look like?
ROBBIE starts to reply, then stops, puzzled.
ROBBIE I ... I barely got a look at him.
He got a pretty good one, actually . . . but he doesn't remember.
MIKE
(to HATCH)
53
Stay on my right. Keep the barrel of that scattergun pointed down, and keep the safety on unless I tell you to take it off.
(to ROBBIE) You stay exactly where you are, please.
ROBBIE You're the constable.
He watches MIKE and HATCH start for the gate, then calls.
ROBBIE
The TV's on. Tuned quite loud. If the guy starts moving around, I'm not sure you'll hear him.
MIKE nods, then goes through the gate with HATCH on his right. The TOWNSPEOPLE have crept closer yet; we now see them in the background. The SNOW SWIRLS around them in the HIGH
