The Ninth Gate
CORSO: What are you doing here?
THE GIRL Reading.
CORSO: I can see that.
THE GIRL And bumping into people unexpectedly.
CORSO: Unexpectedly is right.
THE GIRL Are you on a business trip? (indicates his shoulder bag) Is that why you always carry that thing around?
CORSO doesn’t answer, adjusts his glasses. inquiringly at her book.
THE GIRL hands it to him. We see the title: ‘The Devil in Love’ by Jacques Cazotte.
CORSO: You like Gothic novels?
THE GIRL I like books. I never travel without one.
CORSO: Been traveling long?
THE GIRL Ages.
CORSO eyes her, intrigued. She uttered the word in the simple, natural way that characterizes all her behavior.
CORSO: You said you were a student?
THE GIRL Did I? (shrugs) So I am. In a way.
CORSO shakes his head and smiles. He’s getting nowhere fast.
THE HOTEL PORTER appears at his elbow.
HOTEL PORTER: Excuse me, senhor. Phone call.
CORSO (surprised): For me? Are you sure?
HOTEL PORTER: Sim, senhor.
He withdraws. CORSO turns back to THE GIRL.
CORSO: Well, sorry I disturbed you.
He hands back the book and turns to go.
46. SINTRA HOTEL: PHONE BOOTH INT/NIGHT
CORSO picks up the receiver with a puzzled frown. He gestures
CORSO: Yes?
BALKAN (V.O.): Mr. Corso?
CORSO (startled): Balkan? How did you find me?
BALKAN (V.O.): Made any progress?
CORSO: Progress? You could call it that.
BALKAN (V.O.): Well?
CORSO: I’ve examined the Fargas copy. it’s authentic. At least it looks that way. Like yours. But there are discrepancies.
BALKAN (V.O.): Discrepancies?
CORSO: In the engravings. Like keys in different hands, doorways open In one copy and bricked up In the other.
BALKAN (V.O.): 1 see.
CORSO: And there’s another thing.
BALKAN (V.O.): Yes?
CORSO: The ones that differ are ail signed ‘L.F.’ Seems like some kind of riddle.
A long pause.
CORSO (cont.): Are you still there? Where are you, anyway?
BALKAN (V.O.): I think you’d better get it for me.
CORSO: The old man wouldn’t sell it to save his life – he said as much.
Another long pause.
CORSO (cont.): Balkan?
A click, and the line goes dead.
47. SINTRA HOTEL: CORSO’S ROOM INT/DAWN
The curtains are drawn, but there’s light enough for us to see CORSO lying fast asleep on his back in bed, one limp arm trailing over the edge.
A knock at the door. He grunts and props himself on one elbow.
CORSO (sleepily): Just a minute.
He rolls out of bed and wraps the bedspread around his waist. Then he opens the door and stands there, a tousled figure with Liana’s teeth marks clearly visible on his chest. THE GIRL is outside.
THE GIRL You left your phone off the hook.
CORSO: Jesus- (peers blearily at his watch): What time is it?
THE GIRL Early, but you have to go.
CORSO (bewildered): Go where, for God’s sake?
THE GIRL The Fargas place.
CORSO is at first too bemused to find it odd that she should know the name.
CORSO: Fargas? I already saw Fargas.
THE GIRL I think you should see him again.
CORSO: What is this, a practical joke? Who the hell are you? What do you know about Fargas?
THE GIRL Better get dressed. I’ll wait for you downstairs.
48. QUINTA FARGAS: DRIVEWAY, HOUSE EXT/DAY
CORSO and THE GIRL are walking in silence up the driveway, with its carpet of dead leaves and avenue of crumbling statues. He eyes her, mystified, as she strides briskly along with a blue duffel coat over her usual attire. The early morning mist is dispersing.
With another look at THE GIRL, who remains standing at the foot of the steps, CORSO goes up to the front door and yanks at the bellpull, producing the same muffled jangling sound as before.
THE GIRL Don’t bother. He isn’t there.
CORSO (sarcastically): Really. So where is he?
THE GIRL Over there.
She points in the direction of the ornamental pond. CORSO stares at her, then walks over to it and freezes: VICTOR FARGAS’s corpse is floating face up among the dead leaves and lily pads. An empty brandy bottle is floating alongside.
CORSO (mutters): God Almighty!
He emerges from his stupor and walks back to THE GIRL, who’s still standing outside the front door. Ignoring her, he tries the handle, but it’s bolted.
THE GIRL You want to get inside?
CORSO nods wordlessly, too shocked to bandy words with her.
THE GIRL looks up at the facade. Then, with unsuspected agility, she shins up a drainpipe beside the door and climbs onto the balcony above it. One of the French windows is broken. She reaches inside, releases the catch, and disappears from view.
CORSO waits, casting occasional glances at the ornamental pond and its occupant.
There’s the rattle of a bolt being withdrawn, and THE GIRL opens the front door from the inside.
CORSO: Wait here.
He enters the house.
49. QUINTA FARGAS: RECEPTION ROOMS, DRAWING ROOM INT/DAY
CORSO traverses the empty reception rooms and reaches the drawing room. His foot crunches on something as he crosses it on his way to the rug on which the occult books were stacked: it’s the remains of one of Fargas’s treasured brandy glasses. He pauses for long enough to identify it, then walks on.
The books are lying scattered across the rug: no sign of ‘The Nine Gates’.
CORSO: Shit! Shit, shit!!!
He looks around helplessly. Then he sees it: the last of the fire is still smoldering on the hearth, and lying open among the ashes, charred around the edges, is Fargas’s ‘Nine Gates’.
He picks up,the mutilated volume, looks at it for a moment, ruefully shaking his head, and stows it in his canvas bag.
50. QUINTA FARGAS EXT/DAY
CORSO emerges from the house.
THE GIRL Well, did you find it?
CORSO: You know too damned much. More than I do. Why do you keep following me around? What are you, a groupie or something? IRS, CIA, Interpol? Who are you working for?
THE GIRL You’re wasting time, asking all these questions. We’d better get out of here. There’s a flight from Lisbon to Paris at noon. We should just make it.
CORSO: What’s with the ‘we’?
THE GIRL There are two of us, aren’t there?
51. AIRLINER CABIN INT/DAY
