(THEME)
TR: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions --- Guy Noir, Private Eye.
(THEME UP AND OUT)
GK: It was the Fourth of July weekend and I was supposed to be at my sister Georgina's cabin on Lake Winnisissibigosh listening to her husband discuss his lipids and eating burned walleye with sand and tinfoil in it ----- but I wasn't there, I was in the Berkshires, thanks to an e-mail from a young woman named Wendy Wharton in Lenox, Massachusetts ----
ER: Mr. Noir----- Can you help me? Like right away? I'm sending the family jet. Wendy Wharton. (BRIDGE)
GK: Family jet. What an appealing idea. We took off and a kindly steward named Fellowes brought me warm cashews.
TR (BRIT, MURMURY): Are the cashews properly warm, milord?
GK: Yes, Fellowes.
TR (BRIT): Not too warm.
GK: No.
TR (BRIT): Very good. Here is a cold compress for you, milord----
GK: Thank you.
TR (BRIT): And a silk handkerchief----
GK: Thank you.
TR (BRIT): Please. Allow me to hold it, milord----
GK: You're going to hold the hanky to my nose?
TR (BRIT): Go ahead and blow----(TWO HONKS)
Very good, milord. (BRIDGE)
GK: In Lenox, I got into a limo (BRIDGE. CAR PULLS AWAY, OUTDOOR AMBIENCE) which sped down a narrow winding country road that went up and down and around (CAR CORNERING) and through woods and over creeks and through barnyards (CHICKEN FLURRY) and finally turned onto a gravel drive to an iron gate which opened for us (SLOW CREAKING) and there in the middle of the road was a peacock (HORN HONK, PEACOCK SHRIEK) and a bison (BISON) and an elderly leopard (COUGHS) and over the hill a tennis court and a game in progress. A young woman and a duffer in a long volley -(SFX) until she got irked and hit it straight at him, right between the eyes (ER SMASH, BONK ON HEAD, TR CRUMPLES UP)
(BRIDGE)
GK: She was blonde, but not trailer park blonde, rich blonde, like cr&eme brulee.
ER: Welcome to Sunnyvale, Mr. Noir. (FOOTSTEPS) I'm Wendy.
GK: Wendy - quite an estate.
ER: Built by my great-grandfather.
GK: I see. Who was he?
ER: Louis Wharton. He was the one who invented disposable tissue.
GK: You mean Kleenex?
ER: Right. Except he called it Klenox. Named it for Lenox. That's where the money comes from. Everytime somebody blows their nose, it's another penny in our pockets.
GK: Are the Whartons related to Edith Wharton? The novelist?
ER: No, my great-grandfather's name was Lipschitz. Louie Lipschitz. Before Kleenex, he invented a chemical that would remove warts. So he took the name Wharton.
GK: Of course. (BRIDGE) She took me on a tour of the mansion ---
ER: This is the gallery, Mr. Noir. (FOOTSTEPS, ECHOEY) Here is the library ----- Grandpa's rare books are in there ------ and the drawing room is here (FOOTSTEPS CONTINUE) ----- do you draw?
GK: No.
ER: Well, if you should ever feel the urge, there's paper and pencils there. (FOOTSTEPS) And here is the music room. (FOOTSTEPS) (BRIDGE)
GK: The music room had shining oak floors and full-length windows looking out on an English garden, and she sat down at a harpsichord and began to play. (HPSCHD)
ER: Mozart. Grandpa loved Mozart. I used to play for him every night as he went to sleep. One night as he sat there very drowsy, I put a pen in his hand and helped him sign his name. It was his will. And he left everything to me and not to my parents. They're mad about it but I don't give a rat's ass.
GK: How much did he leave you?
ER: Three point six billion dollars.
GK: Quite a bundle.
ER: But I have a twin sister. Wanda. An identical twin. She hates. That's why I keep her locked up in this tiny dark room. (THROWS OPEN DOOR) My sister, Wanda.
IS (THROUGH CLENCHED TEETH): You are really bad. You are so bad. You are one of --- you are the worst person I ever knew. And you'll never get away with it. Do you hear me? Never.
ER: Ha! Double Ha!
IS: You wait and see. In a week, our positions will be reversed! I'll be out there and you'll be in here!
ER: Ha! (SLAM DOOR. SERIES OF LOCKS) Just to be sure, I'll tie Hrothgar to the door handle. (VICIOUS DOG SNARL) You stay, Hrothgar. Sit. (DOG) And if anyone tries to get out, you leap. Rip. Tear. Hear? (SNARL)
GK: I never knew the lives of the rich and famous were so tawdry, Miss Wharton. I imagine this is all about money.
ER: It is. My grandfather left everything to me, Wendy Wharton, but my sister Wanda has found a nurse who swears that in the nursery, when we were a week old, she switched us.
GK: That you're Wanda and she's Wendy.
ER: Exactly.
GK: You couldn't divide it evenly - 1.8 billion for you - 1.8 billion for-----
ER: You don't understand, do you? I'd rather pay you 1.8 billion to take care of this than let her get her hands on it.
GK: Oh you shouldn't. Really. It's too much.
ER: Okay. How about a million? Here. (SWIFT DEALING OF MONEY)
GK: Well, gosh. I never knew there was a $10,000 bill. They're all brand new.
(BRIDGE)
GK: I went right to work. I tried speaking to the nurse who had taken care of the twins as babies but she refused.
SS (COCKNEY): Don't you come sweet talking around here trying to squeeze incriminating information out of me, Captain ---- I know me rights. I don't have to talk if I don't want to. (STING)
GK: I went looking for the twins' mother. I found her in a meadow with her peacocks. (SHRIEKS)
SS (HIPPIE): I don't remember them as babies. I remember their aura. (PEACOCK SHRIEK)
GK: Mrs. Wharton----
SS: Please. Call me Sky.
GK: Sky, do you recall when you christened them, if you noted any distinguishing marks ---- were they given name tags------
SS: Names are not important. That is so over. We name ourselves, Mr. Noir. Names have to come from within.
GK: I could see that she wasn't going to be a great witness in court.
SS: (SINGING) The hills are filled with daffodils
And silver clouds and chlorophyll.
Shall I sit still? I think I will.
I am the sky, I am the sun,
I am you, I'm everyone,
I'm Tom Brokaw, I'm Connie Chung...
(FADING)
(BRIDGE)
(FOXHOUNDS BAYING)
GK: Being on the payroll and all, I tried to fit in to the routine at Sunnyvale. Breakfast was at noon, drugs at noon and six and 12, and tea at six. Before tea we went out on a foxhunt.
TR (BUTLER): Here's your jodhpurs and your whip. And your boots. (PAINFUL SQUEEZE OF LEATHER, TR EFFORT, GK PAIN) Let's ride! To the hounds! (FOX HORN) (GALLOPING HOOVES)
GK: I rode away flapping like long underwear on a clothes line. My thigh muscles are mostly attuned to gripping a barstool, and after we'd ridden for an hour, the pain became intense --- I'm sorry. I have to stop. (HORSES SLOWING TO WALK)
ER: For what?
GK: I saw something on the ground.
ER: What?
GK: Let me see. I'll just get down from the saddle and have a look. (CREAK OF STIFF BONES) Ohhhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhh my gosh......
ER: Something wrong?
GK: This is how a detective looks for clues, kneeling with his face to the ground. ---- And then I saw it. (STING) A slip of paper. It said: I've escaped from the room where I was locked. This is war. You're on the wrong side, Mister. (STING)
(BRIDGE)
GK: That evening I was in my suite in the guest wing, running water in the bath (FAUCET) and looking over the vast array of soaps and lotions, and ----
(KNOCK ON DOOR)
GK: Yeah?
(DOOR OPEN)
GK: What can I do for you?
TR (RICO): Who said I wanted you to do something for me?
GK: Well, you knock on my door, I figure you're not just doing it for the exercise.
TR (RICO): Oh yeah? Is there some law that says you can't drop by and say hello?
GK: What are you getting at?
TR (RICO): What do you mean, what am I getting at?
GK: It's a question.
TR (RICO): So what if it is?
GK: Didn't your mother teach you how to carry on a social conversation?
TR (RICO): What are you bringing my mother into it for?
GK: Look. Let's start at the beginning.
TR (RICO): You badmouth my mother, I'll hit you so hard you're gonna be starting WAY back at the beginning.
GK: Look. I don't have all day.
TR (RICO): And you're suggesting that I do?
GK: Look----
TR (RICO): Don't tell me what to do----
GK: Tell you to do what?
TR (RICO): Telling me to LOOK. I don't care for it.
GK: Oh no?
TR (RICO): No, I don't.
GK: Okay, then. Don't look.
TR
RICO): Okay, I won't.
GK: You're not looking now?
TR (RICO): I'm not looking.
GK: Good. (HE SWINGS, KONK. TR GROANS AND FALLS) It was a dirty mean trick but what was one more. I checked his pockets. Aha. A note. (KNOCKS ON DOOR) One moment! The note says - (KNOCKS) Be right there! Just reading a note! The note says - "The secret of the Wharton torture is ------" (KNOCKS) Come in -----
TR: Royal Canadian Mounted Police. (HORSES WHINNY) We've come to get a heinous criminal. Ah. Here he is. Right - aboot face. Let's head oot! (HOOVES AT WALK)
GK: They took the man away. I walked to the window (FOOTSTEPS) to read the note he'd left.
TR: (JAPANESE JU-JITSU CRIES)
GK: It's the gardener! With an air wrench! (AIR WRENCH)
I managed to grab hold of his godhpurs and hurl him into the lily pond. (FLIGHT OF TR, SPLASH, FLOUNDERING) Just then, up the hall came Wendy's sister Wanda --- her eyes burning like hot coals.
IS: I said I'd find you. And I did. There's no escape for you now. You are so bad. Incredibly bad. And you're just as bad, Noir. (CRACK OF WHIP) Look behind you, Noir.
GK: What? Who?
SS (DEEP): This is your last case, Noir. Say goodbye, sucker. (COCK GUN)
GK: What did I do to you?
SS (DEEP): Wouldn't you like to know?
GK: These lawns and gardens, the mansions, the gates, the grandeur --- it conceals corruption and greed.
ER: You fool. You ignorant fool.
SS (HIPPIE): I have news for you girls. You're not Whartons, either of you. Your real father wasn't Mr. Wharton, it was Fellowes, the butler.
TR (BUTLER): Oh my dear, we shouldn't have.
SS: You're both as poor as church mice and the fortune is mine. Soon as I put this arsenic in your father's martini. (SPLASH)
ER: What? You can't!
SS: You just watch. Darling?
TR (APPROACHES): (FRENCH)
SS: He's on a language strike. He'll only speak French until George W. Bush is out of the White House.
ER: Daddy! Don't take that drink!
TR: (FRENCH)
GK: Mr. Wharton -----
IS: Oh, Daddy ----- when you're gone ---- what will become of us? I'm horrified at how I've neglected you. I'm shattered. (SHE SOBS)
TR: (FRENCH) (PEACOCK)
GK: Mr. Wharton --- George W. Bush is not in the White Hourse.
TR: He's not???
GK: He went to Crawford for the weekend.
TR: Oh.
GK: So you don't need to drink that martini.
IS: Here! Let me drink it!
(GASPS OF PEOPLE) (SHE DRINKS)
ER: Are you all right?
IS: I'm fine. That was a great martini. Not poisoned or anything.
SS: Of course it wasn't poisoned. I only said it was --- to show you that we really care about each other.
ER: What a happy ending!
TR: Almost a happy ending. But never mind.
IS: Happy 4th of July everyone ---
ER: Fellowes!
TR (BUTLER): Ma'am?
ER: The fireworks!
(SERIES OF ROCKETS, BOMBS, W/PEACOCK, HORSE, SHEEP, & PEOPLE REACTIONS)
SS: A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets but on the 12th floor of the Acme Building, one man is still trying to find the answers to life's persistent questions......Guy Noir, Private Eye. (MUSIC OUT)