The Saint Leger Incident Characters: Lou, a city detective Brian Corelli, student, part-time P.I. (private investigator) The Detective Time: An autumn night in the 1990's. Place: An abandoned office in the now empty Saint Leger Building, in the decaying center of a large city. Leger is pronounced l_-zh_. Scene: An abandoned office. There is a large window with shattered glass, up-left, looking out over a nearby building of gray, concrete blocks. Pieces of glass are on the floor beneath the window. At right there is an old metal two-drawer file cabinet on top of which are styrofoam cups. Brown paper bags, cups and newspapers litter the floor. There is an overturned wooden chair at left, an old office chair on a castor, and an overturned wastebasket. Two large windows must be imagined to be at front, and they cast eery squares of pale light across the room. At Rise: Lou enters from the right followed by Brian. They are both out of breath from climbing stairs. Lou is a dark-haired woman in her mid-thirties. She is dressed casually but is sophisticated, with jewelry, coiffured hair and make-up. She is attractive, though her features are somewhat coarse. Brian is a congenial, dark-haired young man in his twenties who speaks with a slight New Jersey accent. He wears a short jacket over a checkered shirt (there is a handkerchief in the shirt pocket); a pack hangs from his shoulder. LOU Whew! Eight flights! At least I'm getting my exercise. They both catch their breath. This is your office for the night, Mr. Corelli, the luxury suite. And like I said, great view from the window. Just watch where you step. Lou crosses to the window and Brian follows cautiously, looking around. See down there? BRIAN Uh-huh. LOU The warehouse office. BRIAN They keep the lights on all night? LOU In this neighborhood, the more lights the better. BRIAN And they won't see me up here? LOU No, but don't stand in front of the window. BRIAN You say, the payoffs will occur sometime between twelve and three? LOU Tonight and tomorrow night. BRIAN So how long can you stay? LOU For a while – not long. My partner needs me; our shift starts at midnight. BRIAN Lou, I appreciate your coming up here with me. LOU A tip-off and an escort both, not bad, Corelli. But you deserve it. I mean, you've really advanced on the Benham case, finding out I was the internal affairs investigator.... BRIAN My boss guessed as much, too. You're just not made of the same stuff as the others. LOU A good guess, kind of... Study the room carefully. Figure out the best spot to set up the video equipment tomorrow. BRIAN The case could've been yours, you know. Why a tip-off? Why me? Why us? LOU Because the state will respond better to an outside agency, especially a respected one. Besides, if I took the lid off the city, I'd get scorched; I could never work here again. Bad as this city is, it's still my home. Now, study the room, Brian. Brian looks around and notices the file cabinet. BRIAN You suppose there's anything in there? LOU There wasn't the last time I looked, but let's check it again. She crosses to the file and Brian follows. Carefully she opens both drawers and closes them as Brian observes. Empty. She picks up a cup from the top of the file. Care for some coffee? Only about a week old. Looks like most of the cream and sugar got spilled though... BRIAN I'll pass; besides, I brought my own. He looks around the room. The Saint Leger Building has seen better days. He moves a newspaper with his foot. Nothing here... nothing anywhere. All the offices like this? LOU Yeah, the building's totally empty. BRIAN Ever since the bombs went off, huh? Who did that anyway? LOU A neighborhood gang. BRIAN What for? LOU They wanted to hone their bombing skills. BRIAN Terrific. LOU Fortunately, most of them are locked-up. BRIAN Not all of them? Saint Leger... the Saint Leger Building... named after a saint? LOU I think it's just somebody's name. BRIAN You don't suppose there ever was a Saint Leger? LOU I doubt it, who's ever heard of him? BRIAN I sure haven't... Well, I've seen enough. I'll set up my tripod and video right about here; it won't be hard at all... meantime, I'll settle in for tonight. He rolls the office chair over near the window, then removes the pack from his shoulder. Lou retrieves the wastebasket and sets it upside-down by the chair. LOU Here, use this for a table. Brian removes a thermos, sandwich and small camera case from the pack and sets them on the wastebasket. Now you've got a cozy arrangement. Guess I'll be going – BRIAN Hey, so soon? Can't that partner of yours manage alone for an hour? LOU Not for an hour. I can't be that late, not tonight. Brian picks up the wooden chair from the floor. BRIAN Here, sit down for a few minutes then. Lou reluctantly sits down. Tell me, how does a woman get into this kind of work? LOU (Shrugs) I never planned it... I just happened to have a boyfriend who was a cop. One thing led to another, and I got into decoy work. One night when I was doing my old lady routine, a mugger fell for it, I collared him and it turned out he was wanted for armed robbery. So I got a promotion – robbery detective; some narcotics... recently, internal affairs. BRIAN So you like detective work? LOU It's okay, but sometimes it's boring. I don't like the typing part, but I've got to type my reports. BRIAN I bet the internal affairs stuff isn't boring. LOU You win that bet. BRIAN What with all the corruption – from the mayor's office on down to the police department. LOU The works. Embezzlement, manipulation of votes, bribery, infidelities, disappearance of confiscated drugs and monies. It couldn't be worse, and James Benham knew everything. He wasn't all that moral though. He was caught between two factions in the beginning and saw his job going downhill, so he decided to play the honest bureaucrat and he started talking. Figured he had nothing to lose. When he turned up missing, nobody blamed his wife for consulting a private agency. By the way, where is she? BRIAN I can't tell you that. LOU You can tell me, Brian. BRIAN We don't know. LOU You don't know? BRIAN All we know is a certain town, general delivery. She calls us from pay phones; sends us money orders. LOU What town? BRIAN Come on, Lou, I can't talk. LOU You can trust me. I brought you here – it's the best tip-off you'll ever have. Day after tomorrow it'll be in your lap. BRIAN So, you can wait. LOU (Icy) Thanks. BRIAN Why do you need to know? LOU I don't need to know!... (Warming) I've told you about my brilliant career; tell me about yours. How did you get into private eye work? BRIAN Well, before the Benham case, it was just income, just a part-time job, mostly at night, mostly boring... divorce stuff. The rest of the time, I'm working on a degree in criminology. LOU Why criminology? BRIAN Hey, you should ask? Okay, I used to read Sherlock Holmes. LOU Sherlock Holmes? Okay. BRIAN I read every story, and the book – you know, The Hound of the Baskervilles – over and over. Holmes fascinated me, he just seemed so real; he still does. Could he be just a fictional guy? Ask anybody you meet on the street – anybody at all, "Hey, give me a description of Sherlock Holmes," and they will! Anybody – a bum, an office worker, a kid. This guy is real. Anyway, I decided to major in criminology. So far so good. But tell me, what does a real-life detective like yourself think about Sherlock Holmes? LOU Me, I don't think about him much. All the same... Listen, Brian, you won't believe this: the last really good chief we had – he kept a framed picture of Sherlock Holmes up on his office wall. BRIAN No kidding? LOU Not only that – you know what he believed to his dying day? He believed Sherlock Holmes was the guardian angel of detectives. The chief of detectives believed this! BRIAN You're kidding! LOU No, for real, real-life. BRIAN Fantastic! How did he die? LOU (Shrugs) Old age. BRIAN (Laughs) Maybe there was something to it then. LOU For him maybe. But where's this guardian angel these days, with everything going downhill the way it is?... And look at this awful bombed-out building. Where's Saint Leger's angel? It's crazy – I never heard of such a crazy thing. BRIAN Was this chief crazy? LOU No, that's just it, he wasn't. Like I said, he was the last good chief we had. BRIAN Nowadays people are beginning to believe in angels again. LOU 'Cause times are tough. BRIAN Sure, but so what? Have you seen all the books that are out? LOU I don't read much. BRIAN Everybody's supposed to have an angel. Even you. LOU Me? I don't have an angel – I've only got a damned devil! She laughs, then glances at her watch. I've really got to be going. BRIAN Come on, let's talk some more. LOU Sure. And I can tell my partner I'm late 'cause we were talking about angels. BRIAN And the last good chief. Lou stands; Brian follows. LOU By the way, be careful when you leave. Police keep an eye on the building. BRIAN By all means, beware of the police. LOU Good luck, and call me at home tomorrow. BRIAN Sure thing. Thanks again. She turns before exiting. LOU Maybe you'll see your angel tonight. She laughs again, and the laugh echoes and fades as she descends the stairs. Brian listens uneasily, then looks around again. BRIAN Terrific. He opens the camera case, removing the camera and a light meter. He moves the meter around the room and in front of the window. He then picks up the camera, adjusts it, and, standing at a safe angle with the lens aimed downward through the window, he focuses and takes several shots. He then takes several shots of the room. This done, he makes himself comfortable in the chair; pours coffee from the thermos; glances at his watch and out the window. Twenty past twelve... He sighs deeply. I'm already tired. No sleep today, not much last night. He closes his eyes, then opens them suddenly. Stay awake, stay awake; watch the window, watch the window... He sips coffee and stares out the window. The lights fade out. When they fade up again, Brian, sleepy, is still staring out the window. He has moved the wooden chair and his legs are resting on it. He looks at his watch. Ten minutes until two. Nothing.... He unwraps his sandwich and takes a few bites; pours fresh coffee from the thermos and sips. So where's the action? Figure if you've got from twelve to three, it'll happen at three, right? Maybe even after three. Nobody ever does anything on time anymore. He yawns and stretches and stares out the window. His head nods and he wakes; his head nods again and he breathes deeply. He wakes suddenly and glances at his watch, then out the window. I wasn't out five minutes. Okay, nothing, nothing happened in five minutes; nothing's been touched. He looks uneasily around the room, then rises from the chair. He circles the room carefully. I've got a gut feeling something's not right... Nah, it's only around two; there's still plenty of time. He sits down. Come on, dumbos, let's get it over with – your fingers must be itching for that money. Fools.... He nods off to sleep. A gentle, but firmly insistent voice is heard calling, off at right. VOICE Brian! Brian! Brian wakens and, doubtful, listens. Brian! BRIAN Somebody's calling me! He rises from the chair and crosses to left of center. Who is it? Who's there? The Detective enters from the right. He is tall and thin and clearly agile. He has an aquiline nose and deep-set eyes, mysterious eyes difficult to see or define. He wears a deerstalker cap and a loose, full tweed coat with a matching cape. Who are you? DETECTIVE I'm a good friend of yours, and you'll require no proof of that very soon. Look about you, my good man, you see nothing amiss? BRIAN No. DETECTIVE Don't be so quick then to call the other fellow a fool. The first thing I wish to tell you is that, were you to remain here a week with your eye upon that warehouse office, you would still see nothing. BRIAN What do you mean? DETECTIVE It's a setup. BRIAN A setup? Why? DETECTIVE We have very little time. Come here, I've something to show you. He crosses to the file cabinet. BRIAN What's this all about? DETECTIVE There's no time to explain. Come here, I say. Brian crosses to the file. BRIAN Something's wrong for sure. When I get a gut feeling... DETECTIVE Set the coffee cups on the floor; don't spill the contents. BRIAN What if I did? DETECTIVE Do as I say. Brian sets the cups on the floor. Give me one of those newspapers. Brian retrieves a newspaper and the Detective places it on top of the file. He then stoops down and gently pulls out the bottom drawer. Observe. Do you see anything? BRIAN No, nothing. DETECTIVE You shall have to re-assess your powers of observation, young man. This drawer is not deep, but shallow. BRIAN So it is... DETECTIVE It has a false bottom. Brian starts to touch the drawer. Stay back. The Detective gently removes a thin, rectangular piece of metal from the drawer. This metal is a poor match for the rest of the file. I suppose you didn't notice? He sets the metal on the floor. Brian manages to peer inside the drawer, then staggers back. BRIAN God almighty! The Detective pulls a wire. DETECTIVE Ahhh!... But don't relax yet. He removes a crude-looking bomb from the drawer and sets it on top of the newspaper. The device has sticks of dynamite, pipes, a timer, wires, tubes, etc. tied together. Very similar to the bombs made by your neighborhood boys, and I wouldn't doubt one of them put it together in exchange for a light sentence. Carefully now... He pulls a few more wires loose, then relaxes. My dear fellow, you had less than a minute to live. BRIAN I don't believe this! DETECTIVE There is one real advantage with this kind of crude device. With just a touch or two here and there, it can be made to appear as though something pulled loose by itself. Hence it wouldn't explode, it would "bomb" you might say. I shall arrange it thus. He deftly re-arranges some wires. BRIAN What about your fingerprints? DETECTIVE Smart thinking for a change. Nevertheless, don't worry. Now, get your pictures before I put it away. Brian grabs his camera and takes several shots of the bomb. He then quickly sets it back on the wastebasket and watches closely as the Detective puts the bomb back in the drawer, then replaces the false bottom and closes the drawer. Exactly as it was, save for the unforeseen mishap, of course. He picks up the newspaper. My, my, look at this. (Reads) "James Benham, a certified public accountant and an employee in the property tax assessment office, has been missing since June 2nd... anyone with any information as to his whereabouts, please contact the investigative division at police headquarters." He folds the newspaper carefully and sets it back on the file. The newspaper is sticky – cream and sugar. They'll think you saw the article, read it, and left it here. BRIAN Who'll think? DETECTIVE The woman you admire so, and a few others. BRIAN Lou? DETECTIVE Put the coffee cups back on the file, please. Brian obeys. By the way, the coffee is not a week old, it was fresh yesterday. They brought it with them, but at least one of them was too nervous to drink any. She even spilled it; left a mess. BRIAN Lou... DETECTIVE She was cooler tonight. She took something for her nerves. BRIAN But Lou works in internal affairs! DETECTIVE You can't imagine the magnitude of the corruption in this city; the degree of her complicity. BRIAN She would do this to me? DETECTIVE Oh yes, she and the others want you private agents out of the way. BRIAN My boss! DETECTIVE Oh, he's safe for a while. You'll have time to warn him. When they realize the bomb has failed to explode, you see, they'll expect you to remain here till morning. BRIAN And I would. DETECTIVE When you leave, leave by the back stairs. Understand? BRIAN They're watching the front? DETECTIVE Yes, though not carefully at the moment. They're disgusted. BRIAN Disgusted? They can be disgusted! Better that than me in pieces! I have been a fool. But you still haven't told me – who are you? Where did you come from? How do you know so much? DETECTIVE (After a thoughtful pause) Lou is wrong about Benham. She said he wasn't moral. Well, he was. In fact, his situation parallels that of a man who lived back in the fifth century. The man's name was Leo Degarius, though he's better known as Saint Leger. Lou's also wrong about this building, it was named after Saint Leger, and it was named by Benham himself some years ago, when he had hopes for this neighborhood. Leger, you see, like Benham, was caught in a fight between two factions. He reacted by trying to expose the corruption around him and became the enemy of the notorious mayor. He, like Benham today, was tortured and killed... Leger was declared a martyr and a saint. These days, hardly anyone believes in saints and martyrs anymore. What's to be done then, for a man like Benham? BRIAN Please tell me who you are. DETECTIVE (Smiling) I can see you're going to win, my good man, you and that agency of yours. Very sorry, but I can't tell you who I am. However, what I can tell you is this: someday this building will be rebuilt, and trees and flowers planted all around, and it will be called the James Benham Building. A pause, then the Detective is again grim. Remember, take the back stairs, and as soon as possible. He turns to leave. BRIAN Hey, you're not leaving, are you? DETECTIVE I must. BRIAN Look... was Lou telling the truth about that chief – the one who believed Sherlock Holmes was the guardian angel of detectives? DETECTIVE Yes, she was. BRIAN And is it true, I mean – was he right about Sherlock Holmes? DETECTIVE Your persistence is admirable. The angel, rather, finds it expedient at times to look like Sherlock Holmes. It's altogether advantageous. However, he will only help those for whom deception is a means to an end, the end being the newfound truth. Each at some point must cross a threshold where all deception ceases and the truth held sacred. This is essential if the client is to be helped, and justice served. BRIAN I see. DETECTIVE Despite your blunders tonight, my young friend, you have the makings of a first-rate detective. Now I really must be going. He turns again to leave. BRIAN Oh, wait! I want to get a picture of you. It won't take a second. Brian crosses to retrieve his camera, and the Detective exits. What will I say to my boss? Brian turns and holds up the camera, then lowers it slowly. Gone... It probably wouldn't come out anyway. I'd have a picture of an empty room... A room I'm getting out of!... He puts the camera and meter back into the case, and everything into the pack. He pauses, looking at the file cabinet. Then he removes the handkerchief from his shirt pocket and crosses to the file cabinet. Using the handkerchief to avoid leaving fingerprints, he opens the bottom drawer slightly and peers inside. Uh-huh. VOICE (Off) Brian! Brian shivers and closes the drawer. He stands, puts the handkerchief away and picks up his pack. BRIAN The point is, I can't tell my boss. No way!... And I'll get all the credit, 'cause he'll think I found the bomb. A pause. He looks around the room one last time. We're going to win, yes... We're going to win! He exits right. Lights fade out. A Medley 60