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Snatched

Page 13

by Peter Ackers


  DISSOLVE TO:

  EXT. estate, street #1 - NIGHT

  Old three-story houses here. We might remember this street, but Nick won’t because he was blindfolded in the back of a car.

  Hanging back, Nick watches the Old Prostitute approach one of the houses and head up the driveway.

  Nick moves quickly down the street, using parked cars for cover.

  Once he’s close enough, Nick sees that the car in the house’s driveway is the Ford Focus that caused him so much hassle. Bingo: Eli’s house.

  The Old Prostitute goes to the front door, KNOCKS four times, and enters without waiting for an answer.

  Nick runs up.

  EXT. eli’s house, front - NIGHT

  He goes to the Ford Focus and peers inside. THROUGH THE WINDOW we see the dog cage. Yep, the very same car. Nick looks angry now.

  He moves up to the house. There’s a large bay window at the front, but thick curtains are drawn. A small window is cracked open. FAINT TV NOISES emerge. Nick bends close.

  NICK’S POV, THROUGH CHINK IN CURTAINS

  We see the living room. Large. Three long sofas are curved around a TV in the far corner. The middle one has its back to us, with two heads poking up. These belong to Ice and Zack. The sofas either side are at an angle that allows us to see who lays there. On the right, Eli. On the left, the Woman from last time. Eli’s mum.

  As we watch, the living room door opens and the Old Prostitute walks in, looking angry. She indicates her oiled outfit.

  The following conversation is FAINT THROUGH THE WINDOW.

  old prostitute

  I need to change.

  woman/eli’s mum

  What’s happened? Don’t be dripping that stuff on my carpet.

  old prostitute

  Oil. Some bastard threw it on me. Can I get my case?

  Everyone LAUGHS.

  ice

  You bite too hard or something?

  END POV

  Nick moves back from the window. He looks up at the house. We can still hear the occupants talking.

  old prostitute (o.s.)

  He wasn’t a punter. Some bastard who walked up with oil in a cup and threw it on me. For nothing.

  eli (o.s.)

  Doubt it was for nothing. Probably some guy you fucked last month whose wife just had the doctor tell her it’s gonorrhoea. Back for revenge.

  Nick looks around on the ground, maybe for a weapon.

  old prostitute (o.s.)

  So where were you guys? Isn’t this what I pay you for?

  eli (o.s.)

  You pay for ground rent. And my name around here guarantees protection. That’s why the guy didn’t chop your head off and leave you face down in the gutter.

  zack (o.s.)

  Face down with your head cut off? How’s that work, Eli? That’s like trying to balance an egg upright.

  Nick finds a piece of old fence and tests its weight in his hands.

  eli (o.s)

  Whatever. I said in the gutter, didn’t I? So the head’s propped against the kerb, face-down. Wise-ass.

  old prostitute (o.s.)

  I’m gonna go get changed. If you guys want your Christmas bonuses this year.

  eli’s mum (o.s.)

  Don’t be dripping on my carpet.

  eli (o.s.)

  I’m gonna drip on your carpet if I don’t piss right now.

  Nick perks up at this. He rushes to the window again.

  NICK’S POV, THROUGH CHINK IN CURTAINS

  We see Eli and the Old Prostitute heading from the room through separate doors.

  END POV.

  Nick moves from the window and around the side of the house. Here is the tall gate we remember going through. He slowly goes through again and closes it behind him.

  EXT. eli’s house, rear garden - NIGHT

  Nick waits at the corner of the house. The outdoor toilet sits in the dim light.

  LIGHT SPLASHES ON THE LAWN. Kitchen light. WE HEAR the kitchen door open, and two moments later Eli crosses the lawn, through the patch of light. He’s still wearing his mobile phone strapped to his wrist.

  Carefully, he opens the door and goes in, all the time looking like he suspects the wooden structure will fall down around his ears. We HEAR the door lock.

  Nick moves across the grass slowly, making sure that no one else comes out of the kitchen door. He stands before the toilet, brandishing his length of wood. Looks like he plans to swat Eli when he comes out.

  Nick looks up and down the plank that seems to be keeping the toilet upright. He drops his weapon. New plan.

  He kicks it the plank hard. The whole toilet shivers. The NOISE is loud.

  eli (O.S.)

  Ice, you dickhead. I’m gonna wipe this shit in your hair.

  Nick kicks again. The plank falls, but the toilet holds, wobbling. The toilet FLUSHES. Nick looks unsure what to do.

  The door opens and Eli starts to emerge. His left hand exits first, wrapped around the edge of the doorframe, and, seeing the phone, Nick leaps forward, grabs Eli’s wrist and slams the door on the pimp’s arm with his body. Eli, SHOUTING, starts to struggle. And he’s strong. The toilet vibrates.

  And then it goes. The walls fall and the roof and the sandbags collapse straight down. Nick is knocked aside.

  Eli is under the whole mess, which has a toilet sticking out of the middle. He starts to try to rise, still CURSING. Nick struggles up, and sees Eli’s hand poking out. And the phone. He kneels on Eli’s forearm, grabs at the phone, and yanks it free.

  Eli starts to rise from the mess like a zombie escaping the grave. Nick runs.

  EXT. estate, alleyway - NIGHT

  BREATHING HARD, Nick returns to his bike. He makes sure no one’s following and then he looks at Eli’s phone and starts tapping the keys.

  close up:

  eli’s phone.

  The received calls list appears, and we focus on the call times, scrolling backwards, rewinding time, until we reach 09.21. And we see the name ”DOKI.”

  Right then the call list disappears and is replaced by the words “Ice Calling.” The phone is RINGING.

  END CU

  Nick nervously presses a key to answer and holds the phone to his ear.

  eli (phone)

  You’re dead, whoever you are. I can trace this phone. I’m going to find you and shove this phone sideways up your arse. You have no idea who you just fucked with. Who the fuck are you?

  Nick hangs up. Then he throws the phone away.

  He regains his breath, then picks up his helmet and climbs on the bike.

  INT. internet cafe - NIGHT

  The CAFÉ OWNER, a flamboyant young man with green hair, is holding the door while his Customers file out. He’s nodding and back-slapping and seems to know the three people who leave. He starts to shut the door when Nick appears, blocking it with his foot. This late, we might have expected the guy to be intimidated by a guy in biker gear appearing in his doorway, but the Café Owner doesn’t look the scaredy cat-type.

  café owner

  Shut, mate. Half-twelve close. It’s half twelve.

  nick

  Five minutes. Please. Just need to check the Internet.

  café owner

  Obviously. Internet café and all. But, half-twelve closing time. Gospel. You know how long it takes to lock this place up? I’m lucky to get out of here an hour from now. So, sorry.

  He waves his hands, ushering Nick out of the doorway. Nick takes off the watch he stole from the B&B room.

  nick

  Five minutes. You can time me using this.

  café owner

  You want to give me a watch to let you use my computers for five minutes? How do I know it isn’t nicked?

  nick

  It is nicked. So call the police or let me in.

  cut to:

  Nick is at a computer.

  FOCUS ON SCREEN

  He’s on Facebook. At the sign-in page, he types his son’s name, Joseph Haynes,
and his password. A page appears: his son’s profile page, with a cute picture. Nick touches the photo lovingly. He puts the cursor in the search bar and the word “DOKI” is typed. The computer searches. A list appears. All sorts of groups and people. Nick starts to scroll.

  BACK TO SCENE

  Nick looks ANNOYED at what he’s seeing. A lot of Dokis. Behind him, the Café Owner is sweeping the floor. And he’s wearing his new watch.

  Suddenly Nick perks up.

  SCREEN

  A profile fills the page, but it’s locked. The page warns us that Alan Doki’s profile page is only shared with friends. But there’s a photo. Upper body of a gangly male with a buzz-cut, showing his fist and a sneer to the camera. He wears a football shirt – it’s Sheffield United’s current home shirt, but, as we’re about to learn, Nick doesn’t know this.

  BACK TO SCENE

  NICK

  Hey, help me out here.

  The Café Owner approaches.

  café owner

  Any help you want will cost another watch.

  nick

  I won’t tell the police where that one went, how about that? This here, this football shirt. What is that?

  The Café Owner looks at the screen.

  café owner

  You’re no football fan, are you? That’s Sheffield United. They played at home today. Or yesterday, given the time. Not a bleeding rugby fan are ya?

  During the remainder of this conversation, Nick stares hard at Doki’s picture and the Café Owner goes back to sweeping the floor.

  nick

  Any sport with grunting sweaty men will do me. So Sheffield United played today, at home. Meaning in Sheffield, right? I imagine a team like Sheffield United, it’s not one of the big players, one of the major popular ones? Not like Manchester United or Chelsea or whatever. So Sheffield United fans all probably live in Sheffield?

  café owner

  Maybe, for the most part. Seems to me, mate, you’re on Facebook looking at some guy who you don’t know and ain’t on your friend list. You after him? Shag your girlfriend or something?

  nick

  Or something. You say this team played at home today. And the fans would want to celebrate afterwards, I’m betting?

  café owner

  I see where you’re headed with this. Yeah, they played at home today, and yeah, there’s a good chance the fans hung around the city afterwards to hit the pubs and crack some heads. Saturday night and all.

  nick

  What time to the pubs close in a big city like Sheffield?

  café owner

  Different times. This late, though, you’re looking at either a nightclub or some Sheffield United friendly pub having a lock-in. And the die-hard fans like your mate there, they’ll be out in their football shirts and no bouncer’s gonna let them in a club wearing that shit.

  nick

  So it’ll be a lock-in. Know any pubs friendly to Sheffield United fans?

  café owner

  Hell no. I only know the match today because I’ve had people in looking for last-minute tickets online. I’m a Liverpool fan. Dad was from Liverpool. And these pubs won’t really advertise, in case the away team decides to turn up with their WKDs made into Molotov Cocktails. It’ll be quiet pubs where the fans know the score. You know, they’ve been there before, know the landlord, it’s a routine they have when their team plays.

  nick

  So I need to go look around?

 

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