The Ninth Gate

Unmoved, LIANA raises the bottle and smashes it over his head.

26. CORSO’S APARTMENT INT/NIGHT

CORSO recovers consciousness, gingerly feels his aching head. Some blood has trickled down his face. He surveys the room, which is in chaos and has obviously been ransacked.

He goes into the bathroom and inspects himself in the mirror, takes a hand towel and gingerly dabs his scalp.

Holding the towel to his head, he returns to the living room, where he picks up the phone and punches out a number. We hear a recorded announcement:

BERNIE (V.O.): Hi, this is Bernie’s Rare Books. I’m not available right now. If you want to leave a message, please speak after the beep-

CORSO (into phone): Bernie, you there? Bernie? Pick up!

No response. He replaces the receiver.

27. BERNIE’S BOOKSTORE EXT/NIGHT

CORSO, bag on shoulder, is lurking in a doorway across the street from the bookstore. The place looks silent and deserted, but a dim glow indicates that a light must be on somewhere inside.

CORSO quits the doorway and hurries across the street. He walks down the steps to the door and tries the handle. The door opens.

28. BERNIE’S BOOKSTORE INT/NIGHT .

Only Bernie’s desk light is on. No sign of Bernle himself. CORSO listens intently, looks up at the top of the spiral staircase, which is in shadow, calls in a low voice:

CORSO: Bernie?

No response. He listens some more: nothing but the sound of a passing car.

He makes his way cautiously along the bookcases and rounds a corner, then stops short with a look of horror on his face.

BERNIE has been lashed upside down to the handrail of the spiral staircase. His mouth and eyes are open, and his battered face is streaked with blood.

CORSO (cont.): Jesus Christ!

He puts out a hand toward BERNIE, but the man is so obviously dead that he withdraws it. He looks around in an involuntary, apprehensive way. Then, satisfied that he’s alone, he starts to climb the staircase. Once past BERNIE’s corpse, which he studiously avoids touching, he climbs faster. The staircase creaks and sways.

Reaching the third tier of bookshelves, he presses a hidden button. With a faint click, a panel springs open to disclose a recess filled with books.

CORSO expels a deep breath. There it is, safe and sound: ‘The Nine Gates’. He looks down at BERNIE.

CORSO: Thanks, man- I’m sorry-

29. AIRLINER INT/DAY

CORSO, ensconced in a window seat, is moodily gazing out at some passing cloud-castles. The sun is setting.

30. SPANISH AIRPORT INT/NIGHT

The brightly illuminated arrivals hall is thronged with PASSENGERS in transit.

COP.SO, wearing his overcoat and carrying his suitcase, threads his way through them with the canvas bag on his shoulder. Weary and unshaven, he stares straight ahead with an abstracted expression, adjusts his glasses.

31. TOLEDO STREET, ALLEYWAY EXT/DAY

CORSO’s footsteps echo ans he walks, bag on shoulder, along one of Toledo’s narrow medieval streets. Very few people to be seen. The sun is shining brightly, but there’s a strong wind blowing.

Rounding a corner, CORSO heads down an alleyway flanked by scaffolding swathed in protective netting and blue tarpaulins. it’s completely deserted. No sound but that of canvas billowing in the wind like a ship’s sails. He consults a street sign, turns another corner.

He reaches a doorway leading to an inner courtyard, bumps into a BOY who comes running out. We hear the strident cries of a woman.

BOY: S!, si, mama!!!

A flight of steps in one corner of the courtyard leads down to the basement. CORSO descends them and stops outside a door. A grimy window beside it serves to display some old books and religious prints. The sign on the door reads HERMANOS CENIZA RESTAURACION DE LIBROS. Below it: ‘On parle Francais’ and ‘English spoken’. CORSO opens the door, which creaks.

32. CENIZA BROS. WORKSHOP INT/DAY

CORSO enters. A gaunt, bent-backed old man (PEDRO CENIZA) with a pair of glasses perched on the end of his big nose looks up from an old hand press. Everything about him is as gray as the cigarette ash that rains down on his clothes and the books he’s working on. He’s a chain-smoker.

PEDRO: Senor.

CORSO: Buenas tardes.

PEDRO: Buenes tardes.

PABLO (O.S.) Buenas tardes.

CORSO turns to see another old man (PABLO CENIZA) surface from behind some stacks of paper. His resemblance to PEDRO – bent back, big nose, spectacles – is such that they can only be twins. PABLO wipes his inky hand on a rag before shaking CORSO’S. PEDRO follows suit.

CORSO hesitates briefly, taken aback by this dual apparition. PEDRO and PABLO look him up and down with their keen, twinkling little eyes. Their movements are slow and serene, their expression carries a hint of mockery, and they often exchange knowing smiles. They’re so in sync that they communicate by means of glances and finish off each other’s sentences.

CORSO: You speak English?

They nod simultaneously. He produces ‘The Nine Gates’ from his shoulder bag.

CORSO (cont.): I’d appreciate your opinion on this.

PEDRO takes the book with tremulous hands. PABLO quickly clears away some parchments on the workbench to make room for it.

Some ash from PEDRO’s cigarette falls on the cover.

PABLO clicks his tongue and blows it off.

PABLO (reprovingly): What a habit for a bookbinder! (smiles at CORSO) ‘The Nine Gates- ‘ A superb edition. Very rare.

PEDRO (opens it): The Telfer copy.

CORSO: You used to own it, right?

PEDRO: We used to, yes.

PABLO: We sold it.

PEDRO: We sold it when the opportunity presented itself. it was too-

PABLO … too good to miss. An excellent sale.

PEDRO: An excellent buy – impeccable condition.

PABLO: Impeccable. You are the present owner?

CORSO: A client of mine.

PABLO (over his glasses): I would never have believed she would part with it.

CORSO: She?

PABLO (without looking up): Senora Telfer.

CORSO reaches into his overcoat pocket and extracts a crumpled cigarette. He’s raising it to his lips when he stops short, produces the equally crumpled pack and offers it to PEDRO, who has just discarded his butt.

PEDRO helps himself to a Lucky, breaks off the filter and jams it in his mouth. CORSO lights both of them.

CORSO 1 understood it was Mr. Telfer that bought it.

PABLO: He paid for it.

PEDRO: It was the senora who made him buy it. He did not seem particularly- (glances at PABLO)

PABLO ..interested.

PEDRO has finished examining the text. He looks at the spine.

PEDRO: A superb specimen.

CORSO (hesitates briefly): Could it be a forgery?

PEDRO (suspiciously, almost indignantly) A forgery? (turns to PABLO) You heard that, Pablo?

PABLO wags his finger reprovingly in CORSO’s face.

PABLO: I took you for a professional, senor. You speak too lightly of forgeries.

PEDRO: Far too lightly.

PABLO: Forging a book is expensive. Paper of the period, the right inks- . (makes a dismissive gesture) Too expensive to be profitable.

PEDRO and PABLO assess the effect of their words on CORSO, who digests them.

CORSO: I’m aware of all that, but could some part of it be forged? Restorers have been known to replace missing pages with pages taken from another copy of the same edition. Have you never done that yourselves?

The old men look at each other, then turn to CORSO simultaneously. PEDRO, looking flattered, nods.

PEDRO: Of course it can be done.

PABLO: It requires great skill, naturally, but yes, it can be done.

CORSO: Couldn’t that be the case here?

PABLO: What makes you ask?

CORSO: My client wishes to satisfy himself of the book’s authenticity.

The brothers eye each other over their glasses. CORSO adjusts his own.

CORSO (cont.) : His name is Balkan. Boris Balkan of New York.

PABLO and PEDRO exchange another glance. CORSO detects the hint of a smile that passes between them.

PEDRO: All books have a destiny of their own.

PABLO: Even a life of their own. Senor Balkan is a noted bibliophile. He’s no fool. He must know this book is authentic.

PEDRO: We know it.