Sleepy Hollow
INT. WATCHHOUSE, INCINERATION ROOM-NIGHT
The corpse burns in a raging furnace. Flesh sizzles.
Constable One pumps bellows which fan the flames. Ichabod steps from darkness nearby. He watches with bitter regret as the corpse is consumed.
EXT. CITY-DAY
Market town streets bustle. Filthy. Pigs roam free.
INT. ICHABOD’S HOME, SECOND FLOOR-DAY
Decorated in Early-American Mad Scientist: books, papers and jars of chemicals. Charts of anatomy above a small bed.
ICHABOD (o.s.) Such a day for such a sad farewell. But, this is goodbye, my sweet.
At the window, Ichabod holds a bird cage with a red CARDINAL inside. He opens the cage. The bird flies free.
Ichabod watches it go, then looks down. A COACH halts in the street below. The forlorn DRIVER looks up.
INT. ICHABOD’S COACH-DAY
In motion. Ichabod absently studies his hands, touching the strange SCARS on both palms: evenly dispersed, tiny dots of tissue. Many scars.
Ichabod lifts a LEATHER SATCHEL, checking its contents.
EXT. UPSTATE FORESTS-DAY
TWO FAMILIES of MIGRANT WORKERS travel a path, leading over- burdened horses. Ichabod’s coach approaches from the other direction. Ichabod looks out, unnerved.
One GAUNT MAN watches Ichabod pass. There is a dead, worried look in the man’s eyes. Others stare at Ichabod.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, THE LONG STRAIGHT ROAD-DAY
Ichabod faces two massive, vine-covered PILLARS, unsure. He turns to watch the driver lead the coach away.
Ichabod walks between the pillars to a long straight road. He does not notice, above: THREE DEAD RAVENS hang from a tree limb, twine wrapped round their necks.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, TOWN SQUARE-DAY
Ichabod walks on with baggage. The square is empty, a CHURCH and GRAVEYARD at one end. The road ahead is bordered by businesses and homes.
CONVERSATION DRIFTS from a tavern. A criminal sits in stocks. A quiet CRYING is HEARD. Ichabod hears…
He looks for its source. It’s from a window above, LOUDER. SOUNDS like the SOBBING of an OLD WOMAN.
EXT. VAN TASSEL ESTATE-DAY
ICHABOD’S P.O.V. a BELLTOWER stands tall, like a mast pole with a crow’s nest basket atop. There’s a man in the basket and a huge BELL.
Ichabod ponders this as he continues. Ahead on a hill: the grand Van Tassel Manor House.
INT. VAN TASSEL MANOR HOUSE, SITTING ROOM-DAY
MANY CHILDREN, in a circle, taunt a BLINDFOLDED YOUNG WOMAN spun round by the handsome, barrel-chested man, BROM VAN BRUNT. A few YOUNG MEN and LADIES watch. Brom releases the woman. Everyone quiets and avoids her searching hands.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN This is such a silly game.
BROM Be a sport and stop complaining.
The woman moves to Brom’s voice. He backs away, flanked by peers GLENN and THEODORE. Children laugh.
Ichabod enters, clearing his throat. No one notices. The blindfolded woman keeps grasping. One LITTLE GIRL sees Ichabod and goes to him, finger to her lips.
LITTLE GIRL Play along. You must.
She tugs him. Before Ichabod can protest, he is placed in the blindfolded woman’s grip.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN There, I have someone. Am I finished?
LITTLE GIRL You have to tell who it is.
The woman touches Ichabod’s face. He is uncomfortable, affected by this caress. Brom watches jealously.
LITTLE GIRL At least make a guess.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN I don’t know. Is it Brom Bones?
BROM Certainly not.
ICHABOD Excuse me, Miss… (takes her hands) They have a laugh at your expense.
She takes the kerchief off to reveal a stunning beauty: KATRINA VAN TASSEL. Ichabod tries to compose himself.
KATRINA Forgive me, I didn’t know.
ICHABOD I… I am looking for Baltus Van Tassel.
BROM We haven’t heard your name yet, friend.
ICHABOD Well, unless your name is Baltus, you should not worry over mine.
Brom grabs Ichabod’s collar, pissed. Ichabod’s baffled.
BROM You need some manners.
KATRINA Brom!
Brom looks at her, then reluctantly releases Ichabod.
MAN’S VOICE (o.s.) What is this, then… ?
BALTUS VAN TASSEL, 45, has entered, a working-class aristocrat. LADY VAN TASSEL, 40, stands behind, a mix of home-spun wife and well-kept lady.
BALTUS Can I help you, sir?
Ichabod’s relieved to have a proper focal point. Children gather around Katrina and hide behind her.
ICHABOD I have been sent from the city with a letter of introduction. I am told you offer me room and board.
Ichabod hands over papers. Baltus reads, furrows his brow.
ICHABOD If we could speak alone.
BALTUS (nods, looks to Katrina) This is not a time for frivolity, Katrina, is it? Am I mistaken?
KATRINA They’re only children, father.
Baltus snorts, then exits with Ichabod. The others huddle to gossip, except Katrina, who moves beside Lady Van Tassel to watch Ichabod and Baltus walk down the hall.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, PARLOR-DAY
DOCTOR LANCASTER, 50, dour and always sweaty, takes a seat by the fire, joining Baltus and three other elders. A pretty servant, SARAH, brings a pipe cradle while Lady Van Tassel sets down food. Ichabod is standing.
BALTUS That will be all, ladies. (waits as they exit) We are joined by Doctor Thomas Lancaster, Constable. And to his left are, Clergyman Steenwyck and our able magistrate, Samuel Philipse, both keeping order in their own ways.
PHILIPSE is youngest, eyes bloodshot, mug in hand and pipe in mouth. CLERGYMAN STEENWYCK is formidably built, wearing a constant look of disapproval.
BALTUS I myself am in charge of financial matters and the regulation of currency in our commonwealth. And, lastly, this fine fellow is James Hardenbrook, our Notary.
HARDENBROOK is oldest, ancient, with one eye pale and blind.
ICHABOD An honor, gentlemen. In time I will need every detail of the three murderings you’ve had, but, for now, I ask only if you have any theory at all as to who the killer might be?
DOCTOR LANCASTER Excuse me?
ICHABOD I say, is there any one person suspect in these acts?
DOCTOR LANCASTER I was afraid of this.
Philipse shoots a look to Baltus. Angst amongst the elders.
PHILIPSE Well, Constable… are you aware… to be honest, you are not what we expected. We sent for the militia.
ICHABOD The militia?
FATHER STEENWYCK Why not tell us what you have heard? Hmm? How much have your superiors bothered to tell you?
ICHABOD All I know is three are slain, their heads found severed from their bodies…
FATHER STEENWYCK The heads were not found severed. The heads were not found at all.
Withered Hardenbrook leans forward, his voice cragged.
HARDENBROOK Taken. Taken by the Headless Horseman. Taken back to hell.
ICHABOD Pardon me?
BALTUS You have not been well informed of our troubles, sir. If you would…
Baltus gestures for Ichabod to sit. Baltus lights his pipe.
BALTUS The Horseman… he was a Hessian mercenary, sent to our shores by German princes to help keep Americans under the thumb of England. However, unlike his compatriots who came as muscle in trade for currency, he came willingly. For love of carnage.
FLASHBACK-AMERICAN BATTLEFIELD-DAY
The HESSIAN HORSEMAN rides his black steed into a gory, close-quarters clash, his cloaked uniform adorned with edged weapons. He cuts down Americans left and right.
BALTUS (v.o.) He was infamous for taking his horse, Daredevil, hard into battle… chopping off heads at full gallop.
He dismounts, hoisting a battle axe. With sword and axe, he annihilates. Blood gushes. Bones crack.
BALTUS (v.o.) Just to look on him made your blood run cold, for he had filed down his teeth to rapiers… to add to the ferocity of his appearance.
The Horseman lets out a war cry. Jagged teeth. Grotesque.
FOREST BATTLEFIELD-DAY
Winter. CANNONS can be HEARD BOOMING from afar. Daredevil lies dead in red snow. FOLLOW FOOTPRINTS away…
BALTUS (v.o.) He would not finally meet his end till the winter of seventy-nine, when New York City was held by Henry Clinton and Washington occupied West Point. It was between those two places, not far from here…
The Horseman flees, cloak flowing, chased by FIVE rag-tag REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIERS. Ahead, a steep, rocky area prevents escape. Soldier one aims a rifle and FIRES…
Blood explodes from the Horseman’s arm as he runs. His sword falls from his now functionless hand.
Soldier Two grabs the sword.
At the rocks, the Horseman faces the men. Another Rifleman raises his rifle. The Horseman reaches over his shoulder to grasp a sheathed knife, THROWS- THOCK! The Rifleman jerks back, knife in his eye socket.
The Horseman readies an axe. The Revolutionaries move in with swords. They battle, STEEL AGAINST STEEL. The Horseman fends off blows from all sides.
Soldier Three lunges, stabs his blade deep into the Horseman’s side. The Horseman roars, brings his axe DOWN… BREAKS the sword at the hilt…
An UPWARDS stroke sends Soldier Three head over heels in a fountain of blood.
The Horseman staggers, howling, trying to pull the blade from his ribs. The remaining soldiers close in.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, SITTING ROOM-NIGHT
Pipe smoke wafts from Philipse’s mouth.
PHILIPSE Cut off his head with his own sword. It’s a legend told for twenty years.
BALTUS But, only recently has the Headless Hessian been seen prowling the Hollow, in search of a head to suit his shoulders.
ICHABOD Just a moment… (sits back, incredulous) Are you saying it is he?
HARDENBROOK (aggravated, loud) When a goblin leaps from the nether world, others follow. Poltergeists of the air, water and earth follow and cheer his desecrations!
Hardenbrook BANGS his cane on a table. Baltus puts a calming hand on senile Hardenbrook’s shoulder.
DOCTOR LANCASTER No one knows why he chose to now to climb out from his grave.
FATHER STEENWYCK It is very clear why. Citizens here have long tried to hide sins behind closed doors. Their failed faith has saturated the soil and called forth one of Satan’s own.
ICHABOD Excuse me, gentlemen, but… who has seen this Horseman?
BALTUS Many have.
ICHABOD Then, name one person who has seen him with their own eyes.
A long wait. No reply from the elders. Ichabod rises.
ICHABOD While I will do everything I can to find your assassin, I will look for a man of flesh and blood. Not some goblin-demon from hell.
EXT. BELLTOWER FIELD-EARLY EVENING
The Belltower is covered in defensive spikes. A man climbs down a rope ladder. Below, many ARMED MEN gather. Everyone grim. Philipse moves to the center, on horseback.
PHILIPSE Gather round! Gather and quiet! The hour has come to choose for this night. Each man’s name is in this box and has been checked.
A box is handed up. Ichabod and Baltus arrive on foot at the back of the mob. Ichabod looks…
At a nearby forest, men light TORCH POSTS in a line bordering the forest edge for at least a half mile.
Philipse draws a folded paper from the box, holds it up.
PHILIPSE May the Lord watch over him… (unfolds paper) “Jonathan Masbath.” Are you here?
JONATHAN (o.s.) I am. I take my responsibility.
The crowd parts as JONATHAN MASBATH, a dirt-poor farmer with a bow and quiver of arrows, moves forward. His son, YOUNG MASBATH, 14, grips his arm.
YOUNG MASBATH No, father. Wait… (up to Philipse) He’s already been up once. Why does he go again?
JONATHAN It is a lottery, son. It just as easily might have been one of them.
YOUNG MASBATH Then… I go with you.
JONATHAN No. You obey my wishes. (looks to crowd) Brom. Look after him, will you?
Brom steps up, nodding. Jonathan kisses his son’s cheek, then heads to the rope ladder. Men pat him on the back.
PHILIPSE Someone leave him a horse.
Young Masbath watches his father go. Brom coaxes him away. At the back of the crowd, Ichabod watches skeptically, looks to Young Masbath as he and Brom pass.
ICHABOD You worry for naught, little man. Nothing will harm him there. (looks up, sotto) It is problems here on the ground you people need begin to worry about.
Ichabod watches Jonathan climb, very high above.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, ICHABOD’S ROOM-NIGHT
Ichabod makes notations in a LEDGER BOOK.
KATRINA (v.o.) You will dream.
Katrina strolls in, sits on the bed. Ichabod is nervous.
KATRINA Did they tell? It is something in the air so that dreams come to everyone. According to the elders, an Indian prophet held powwows here before the land was taken, and spells cast then still linger to this day.
ICHABOD Do you often make a habit of sitting on strange men’s beds?
KATRINA You are horribly old-fashioned, aren’t you?
ICHABOD Feel free to form your own opinion. (facing his ledger) Though it appears you already have.
KATRINA Well, I intended to apologize for the behavior of my friend Brom Van Brunt, but it seems I’ve made matters worse. (getting up to go) I’ll leave you to your business.
ICHABOD Excuse me… I should apologize. I, um… I… have no great love of…
KATRINA Other people?
ICHABOD Small talk.
KATRINA It might have been more. Might have been positively grand talk.
Ichabod offers his chair, backing away. Seeing it is the only one, he remains standing. Katrina sits.
KATRINA Is it me, or are you this nervous around all women?
ICHABOD Perhaps it is because your suitor’s hands were recently very nearly wrapped around my throat.
KATRINA My suitor?
ICHABOD The massive fellow… Brom. For someone you call “friend,” he misplaces a good portion of jealousy.
KATRINA He has proposed to me twice.
ICHABOD Which may explain his temperament. To have asked twice means the answer was “no” at least once.
Katrina looks down, discards this with a smile.
KATRINA I’ve read a great deal about your New York City. Do be a dear and tell me all about it. Sounds like an extraordinary place to live a life.
ICHABOD Extra ordinary, yes. But first, you tell me about the Headless Horseman.
EXT. BELLTOWER FIELD-NIGHT
The torches burn bright. ABOVE, in the Belltower, Jonathan Masbath loads a rifle. THUNDER BOOMS.
Jonathan stands, looking to a sky that is all stars and moon. A HORSE is HEARD SHRIEKING. Below, the horse tied at the base of the tower is spooked.
A COMMOTION is HEARD, ground rumbling. Jonathan grips a rifle, cocks it and moves to look…
At the forest edge, a herd of deer stampedes out. They sprint past the tower and across the field.
Jonathan crosses to watch the herd scatter. He crosses back to peer at the forest. Bad news…
A thick FOG creeps from the woods.
As the fog overtakes the base of each torch, a tentacle of mist snakes up to the flame, killing it. All along the forest, arms of vapor snuff torches… one by one by one…
Above, Jonathan sights the rifle along the trees.
JONATHAN Come out, devil… come….
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, ICHABOD’S ROOM-NIGHT
Ichabod leans on a dresser. Katrina’s still seated.
KATRINA Not all think it is the Horseman. Many say witches come from the Western Woods to steal skulls for their cauldrons. Some believe a person in this very town kneels before Lucifer, offering death as tribute. And, still others believe none of it.
ICHABOD Are you so superstitious?
KATRINA To call a person superstitious is to imply they fear magic, but not all magic is black.
ICHABOD There is no such thing as magic.
KATRINA Really? Then… what is your rebuttal to those romantic poets claiming proof of magic in a rose at full bloom, or even in a teardrop?
ICHABOD Poets have silly notions about plants and bodily secretions.
KATRINA (laughs) You are funny.
Ichabod doesn’t get what’s so funny about that. The DISTANT TOLL of a BELL is HEARD. Katrina looks fearful.
She goes to open a window. The BELL TOLLS…
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, OVERVIEW-NIGHT
… TOLLS mournfully over farms and forests…
EXT. FARM-NIGHT
… TOLLS as a MAN comes from his barn, listening, then sprinting towards his home.
EXT. TOWN SQUARE-NIGHT
… TOLLS across the deserted square. Windows go dark. Shutters are slammed shut.
EXT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE-NIGHT
… TOLLS. Ichabod bounds out to the lawn, halting to listen. Katrina and Baltus come out on the porch.
BALTUS Constable, where are you going!?
… TOLLS… TOLLS… then, SILENCE. Ichabod chases away.
BALTUS Come back, sir… (watches him go) Madness.
Baltus ushers Katrina back in. The door slams.
EXT. BELLTOWER FIELD-NIGHT
Ichabod charges across the rocky field. He slows, awed…
The Belltower is down, its mast is splintered. The horse is gone. Ichabod moves to where the crow’s nest lies smashed. No sign of Jonathan.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW FOREST-NIGHT
Jonathan runs past, gripping his bow. It’s QUIET… till HOOFBEATS are HEARD in pursuit.
Trees are silhouetted against the sky. As HOOFBEATS get LOUDER, branches bend like arms and fingers yearning to touch. As HOOFBEATS ROAR PAST, the trees relax.
FURTHER ON, Jonathan runs. WIND begins to BLOW.
BEHIND, in motion, WE SEE Daredevil’s snorting visage; eyes lizard-like, with vertical slits literally aglow.
The Horseman’s hand yanks a wooden WAR HAMMER from a saddle mount. (No clear view of the Horseman.)
HORSEMAN’S P.O.V. closing in on Jonathan.
Jonathan is overtaken. The Horseman swings the hammer WHOOMP -sends Jonathan sprawling.
HOOFBEATS FADE. Jonathan tries to get up, but pain shoots through him. He crawls to retrieve his bow.
Against a tree, he takes an arrow from his shoulder quiver and readies it. Waiting. A metal TAPPING is HEARD O.S. CLINK… CLINK… CLINK. A HORSE SNORTS.
Jonathan pulls the bow taut, pained, lips bloody.
Elsewhere, Daredevil approaches slow. The Horseman taps his sword on his spur, CLINK… CLINK… CLINK…
Foliage moves as the Horseman’s form pushes through.
Jonathan releases-the arrow WHISTLES…
THWACK!-imbeds in the Horseman’s chest.
CLINK… CLINK… CLINK… continues-Jonathan readies a second arrow. Pulls and releases-O.S. THWACK!
CLINK… CLINK… CLINK… Jonathan cries out, crawling away desperately. Crawling through underbrush, over roots and rocks. CLINK… CLINK… CLINK… Jonathan gives up, spent, face to the dirt. He closes his eyes.
CLINKING STOPS. Daredevil halts astride Jonathan; two legs on each side of Jonathan’s body.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW FARMLAND-MORNING
Baltus and a large, DULLARDLY MAN ride. Behind, Ichabod rides with Magistrate Philipse.
Ichabod is not adept at riding his old nag, Gunpowder.
ICHABOD The Van Garretts died first; a man and his son, survived by a wife and two infants. And the Widow Windsor was next…
PHILIPSE And now Jonathan Masbath.
ICHABOD (looks back, ponders) Why would he flee this direction, with so much open ground to cross before he reached cover?
PHILIPSE He would not have gone into the Western Woods. No sane man would.
Philipse drinks from a whiskey flask, sees Ichabod watching and offers some. Ichabod declines.
PHILIPSE Van Ripper there…
Ahead, the dullard, VAN RIPPER, sloppily spits tobacco.
PHILIPSE … found the body this morning. (pause) You do believe now, don’t you?
ICHABOD Believe?
LADY VAN TASSEL You said yourself. What mere man could have downed the Belltower?
ICHABOD It is a prime tenet of science, Philipse, that because one thing appears improbable does not mean you embrace the utterly fantastical.
PHILIPSE You need less big words, and more common sense.
Philipse fingers an IRON KEY talisman he wears on a cord.
ICHABOD What is that you wear?
PHILIPSE My talisman. It will, protect against the Horseman if I show a brave face. But, I cannot run. If I run in fear, it is worthless.
ICHABOD Well… so much for common sense.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW FORESTS, FURTHER ON-MORNING
Brom and Baltus stand at a HORSE’S CORPSE amongst jagged boulders. The flesh has been stripped, guts exposed. Philipse and Ichabod arrive and dismount.
BALTUS Was this Jonathan’s?
BROM Yes. Seems he panicked across here and broke two legs.
ICHABOD Who took the meat?
BALTUS Must have been the Redman. A Lenape Indian lives in the Western Woods.
ICHABOD These woods of yours sound a bit crowded, what with all the witches, ghouls and Indians living there.
Brom climbs up onto his own horse, a black beauty.
BROM There’s only one Lenape. He eats small animals and lost children… and the occasional constable when he can get it.
Brom rides. Ichabod goes to the dead horse, digs in his satchel for a thin iron tool, which he uses it to pry off one HORSESHOE. A WHISTLE is HEARD O.S.
Everyone looks far ahead to where Van Ripper has ridden. The doctor and others are there. Van Ripper waves.
INT. FOREST, MASBATH MURDER SITE-MORNING
Doctor Lancaster stands with SEVERAL ARMED MEN. A coffin on a cart is covered by a blanket. Ichabod is crouched nearby.
ICHABOD Why did you move the body, Doctor?
DOCTOR LANCASTER To place it inside its coffin.
Ichabod, nods, vaguely annoyed. He puts the horseshoe into a hoofprint in the dirt. It fits.
Ichabod rises, walks, studying the ground, kicking up leaves. Brom, Van Ripper, Baltus and Philipse watch.
Ichabod finds a deep hoofprint. Huge. He compares the horseshoe. The hoofprint is much larger.
Ichabod pulls his satchel off his shoulder, takes out a bowl, bottle of water and bag of brown powder; begins mixing water and powder with a fork to make plaster.
The others watch, finding this bizarre, whispering. Brom comes up to stand over Ichabod, irritated.
BROM What the hell are you doing?
ICHABOD (ignoring pause) You are the blacksmith. Ever shod a horse with a hoof this large?
BROM Never. A shoe that size I would have remembered.
Ichabod starts to fill the print with plaster.
ICHABOD Van Ripper. Can you show where the body lay?
VAN RIPPER I can show exactly.
Van Ripper dismounts, wiping tobacco drool. Ichabod rises to follow with his satchel.
VAN RIPPER Here… in front of this oak, facing north. Horrible…
ICHABOD To the best of your recollection, where did the open wound fall?
Van Ripper points. Ichabod takes a BOTTLE of WHITE POWDER from his pocket.
He uncorks the bottle, cautiously pouring powder in an x on the dirt there, then waiting.
A chemical reaction causes the powder to bubble a bit.
ICHABOD There was not much blood, was there?
VAN RIPPER I didn’t see none.
Ichabod stands, puzzled. He walks to the coffin cart, rolling up his sleeves. Others come to watch, but keep distance. Ichabod removes the blanket…
Reveals Jonathan’s headless corpse.
Philipse can’t look. Ichabod takes strange spectacles from his satchel; wire-framed with many lenses. MAGNIFICATION SPECTACLES. He examines the gross neck wound, sniffs it.
He pokes the flesh and severed spinal cord.
ICHABOD No bleeding.
DOCTOR LANCASTER What is that?
ICHABOD This should have bled by the pint. Yet, no blistering or scorched flesh. How… ? Whatever weapon was used… it cauterized somehow….
Ichabod straightens, eyes weirdly big in the spectacles.
ICHABOD It instantly burnt the wound shut.
EXT. CHURCHYARD AND CEMETERY-DAY
A coffin in a grave. Headstone reads “MASBATH, 1799.” A CROWD gathered. Young Masbath broods. Clergyman Steenwyck steps forward to take a handful of newly dug dirt.
Men with guns stand at the outskirts, like on guard.
Steenwyck sprinkles dirt into the grave with prayerful words. In the crowd people whisper. They steal glances at Ichabod, who stands with the Van Tassels.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, DINING/VARIOUS ROOMS-DAY
Dining room. Sarah and two other servants collect plates. A few people still sup, including Van Ripper, his warty WIFE and two kids. Van Ripper guzzles ale, laughs at something his also-drunk wife says.
IN the HALL and FOYER, funeral goers socialize quietly.
FURTHER ON, in the SITTING ROOM, men smoke. Young Masbath is confronting Ichabod, who is leaving…
ICHABOD I am not here for revenge. I am here to bring justice.
YOUNG MASBATH Whatever. You still need a second to tend to your things.
ICHABOD I manage fine alone.
YOUNG MASBATH I deserve to help you. Don’t you see how much this means? My father… he… he was a good man…
ICHABOD (faces Masbath) Young Masbath, I am sorry for your loss. It is a great and sad tragedy. However… I cannot be the one to look after you now.
YOUNG MASBATH (angry) I did not ask you to, did I?
Young Masbath exits. Ichabod remains impassive.
EXT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, FRONT PORCH-DAY
Ichabod comes out. KILLIAN, a dashingly rustic man, carries his son, THOMAS, 5, and chats with Baltus. Doctor Lancaster peers off at something through a SPYGLASS.
BALTUS Hail, Constable. How are you?
ICHABOD Well enough. Your gathering does honor to the deceased.
DOCTOR LANCASTER (still using spyglass) We must be a curious sight to him.
ICHABOD What are you spying on?
DOCTOR LANCASTER (offers the spyglass) The Lenape. He comes to gawk at civilization from time to time.
ICHABOD’S POINT OF VIEW-THROUGH SPYGLASS
Searching a line of trees and foliage far away…
DOCTOR LANCASTER (o.s.) Do you see the Redskinned bastard?
There he is-the LENAPE. A towering savage with misshapen features covered in tumors. He ducks away.
BACK TO SCENE ON PORCH
Ichabod lowers the spyglass, a little awed.
ICHABOD He is a behemoth.
DOCTOR LANCASTER A diseased monster.
BALTUS If you gentlemen will excuse the doctor and I… we have financial matters to discuss.
Ichabod and Killian nod as Baltus and Lancaster head in.
KILLIAN Master Crane, sir. I’m glad we have time alone. You’ve been told plenty about the Horseman, I’m certain.
ICHABOD More than enough, actually. (tired laugh) I beg you, no more, please.
KILLIAN No, sir, no. If you ask me, I say you just laid eyes on our murderer through that glass.
Ichabod ponders, folding the spyglass.
ICHABOD Tell me something. (pause) What becomes of Young Masbath?
KILLIAN Van Ripper and his wife agreed to take him. They have children and a good home and good land.
Ichabod nods. He turns to look THROUGH THE WINDOW. In the DINING ROOM, Van Ripper rises, ill. His wife questions his health, but he holds her off and vomits.
Ichabod notes this with a deep sigh.
EXT. VAN TASSEL ORCHARD-EARLY EVENING
Ocher dusk. Ichabod rides to Young Masbath, seated on the ground, miserable. Young Masbath does not look up.
ICHABOD Find yourself a place in the servants’ residence and wake me before dawn. Our first task will be an unsavory one.
Ichabod rides. Young Masbath runs to his horse and follows.
EXT. CHURCHYARD AND CEMETERY-DAWN
Steenwyck is on horseback, looking down at Ichabod, furious.
FATHER STEENWYCK It is sacrilege!
ICHABOD I cannot proceed without examining the previous victims.
Steenwyck looks to men with shovels. Killian’s there. Philipse, hung-over, stands beside Young Masbath.
FATHER STEENWYCK Magistrate Philipse, surely you can stop this.
Philipse just looks up with a helpless expression.
FATHER STEENWYCK I will not allow it. I will not!
ICHABOD Protest to my superiors if you like.
FATHER STEENWYCK Your superiors are two days away!
ICHABOD Then, you should have left two days ago, because I have men willing to help me today.
Ichabod motions. Killian leads the men to the graveyard. Steenwyck watches, enraged. He kicks his horse and rides. Philipse looks worried.
EXT. CHURCHYARD AND CEMETERY-LATER MORNING (TIME CUT)
A PSALM is HEARD READ by STEENWYCK O.S. while a coffin is exhumed. Ichabod guides the lifting. The coffin is put near the headstone “WINDSOR.” Ichabod looks…
At the church, Steenwyck faces about fifty people who now take up the PRAYER.
Across the cemetery, two coffins, one small, one large, are pried open. “VAN GARRETT, 1799.” Killian leads the effort with Young Masbath’s aid…
The lids come off, revealing the HEADLESS BODIES of a MAN and a little BOY. Young Masbath backs away.
At the “WINDSOR” coffin, nails creak as Ichabod opens the lid. WE DO NOT SEE inside, but when Ichabod does, he is aghast. He looks to the men, angry.
ICHABOD Why was I not told of this?
No answer. Killian arrives, nods solemnly.
KILLIAN The Widow Windsor.
ICHABOD Is that all you say? Look at her.
KILLIAN It’s not something people speak of openly. She did not remarry.
Ichabod kneels, studying. Now, WE SEE: the belly of the headless corpse is bulbous, because the Widow Windsor was very far along in a pregnancy.
Ichabod notices: a tear in the cloth of widow’s blouse. He reaches through the tear, feeling the stomach.
He straightens, greatly troubled.
INT. DOCTOR’S RESIDENCE, MEDICAL ROOM-MORNING
Scissors cut open the widow’s blouse. There’s an inch-long WOUND on the moldering belly; a sword puncture.
Ichabod examines the corpse on a table. Lancaster watches, anxiously mopping his face. Young Masbath’s in a corner. Ichabod goes to write in his ledger full of notes.
ICHABOD What is the common thread between these victims?
YOUNG MASBATH I’m sure I don’t know.
ICHABOD We must discover it. The reason the murderer chose these persons.
Ichabod goes to look at the widow’s corpse, pondering.
ICHABOD The wounds are the same. Cauterized. No chopping or half-measures either. One stroke took the head. Have you seen, doctor… ? (pointing to it) Even the spinal bone… sliced as smooth as butter.
DOCTOR LANCASTER I do not care. You are welcome to use my work area, but I beg you… return her to her resting place.
ICHABOD In time, doctor. Soon as I finish.
Ichabod picks up an iron knife. He looks to Young Masbath.
ICHABOD You should step outside.
EXT. CHURCHYARD CEMETERY-EARLY EVENING
Ichabod and others restore graves. Ichabod looks to the church, where Clergyman Steenwyck stands in the door.
FATHER STEENWYCK The devil sent you, Ichabod Crane. The Lord will not forgive your sins.
Steenwyck shuts the creaky doors.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, ICHABOD’S ROOM-NIGHT
Ichabod sleeps, dreaming…
ICHABOD’S DREAM-FARMLAND-DAY
A young BOY, 10, stands in a wheat field with his back to us. A FEMALE VOICE is HEARD FAINTLY, getting LOUDER.
FEMALE VOICE (O.S.) Ichabod! Ichabod… come along.
The boy, YOUNG ICHABOD, turns, smiling. He runs. We FOLLOW to a clearing behind a frontier home. MOTHER waits. Lovely woman. She kisses him.
ICHABOD’S DREAM-YOUNG ICHABOD’S BEDROOM-NIGHT
Dark. Young Ichabod, in bed, has one eye open. Across the room, Mother has her back to him. She’s WHISPERING something to no one. She turns…
Young Ichabod pretends he is asleep.
A DRAWER is HEARD SHUTTING. Mother exits. Ichabod gets up, curious, opens a drawer… finds something behind clothing.
It’s a piece of reed grass, woven into an elaborate pattern with shafts of wheat twisted into the center. Young Ichabod replaces it, closes the drawer.
