The Copycat Murders By William Meikle

FADE IN
TEASER
CUT TO:
INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT
A long empty corridor, deathly quiet, no movement.
BANG!
A thirty-something, well turned out, female, MEG REARDON slams out of one of the side doors.
She runs along the corridor, leaving bloody prints where her palms slap hard on the walls.
Make-up is streaked across her face, and she continually casts frightened glances behind her.
The corridor behind her is empty.
CUT TO:
INT. DRESSING ROOM - LATER
She throws herself into her dressing room, slamming the door hard behind her and locking it shut from the inside.
She leaves blood everywhere she touches.
Forehead leaning on the door, she gives way to sobbing.
Eventually she gets control and turns, only to take fright at her reflection in the big mirror ahead of her.
There is no one else in the room.
All is quiet except for her heavy, almost sobbing, breathing.
As if for the first time she notices the blood on her hands, and the large, still dripping, gash across her right palm.
Thick drops of blood fall to the dressing room floor.
She backs away across the room, leaving a spotted blood trail, until her back is to the large mirror.
She can't keep her eyes off the door handle, expecting it to turn at any moment.
Finally she can't retreat any further… She is backed up tight against the mirror.
SLASH!
A knife flashes. She looks down to see blood flowing down her front.
In the mirror she is seen staggering towards the door and trying to open it.
It is locked tight.
She turns, looking for her attacker.
She is the only person in the room.
Blood pours down her chest.
She slumps to the ground.
In close up, her eyes, wide open, going dim.
CUT TO:
INT. DRESSING ROOM - LATER
Titles : THE COPYCAT MURDERS
The crime scene slowly fills with police, photographers, forensics, all crammed into the too-small area inside the dressing room.
They mill around the body which lies in the centre of the room under a bloody sheet.
Pictures are taken, measurements are made.
People come and go, but the body stays there, unmoving.
Finally, making his way wearily along the corridor into the room, Detective Inspector JIM RYAN, a tired looking detective, about forty, once fit, now going to seed.
He is met by a younger officer, Detective Sergeant DAVE THORNE, late twenties, well groomed, better dressed than your average police officer.
Thorne looks weak and pale, as if he's about to throw up.
RYAN
Another one?
Thorne doesn't speak, merely nods towards the door.
Ryan bends to look at the lock. The wood around the jamb is splintered and broken on the inside.
RYAN
It had to be forced open from the outside?
Thorne nods.
THORNE
Just like the others.
(pause)
Same MO as well. Although this time it looks like the knife was even bigger. How is he doing it guv?
Ryan stares down at the sheet covering the body. A spatter-work pattern of blood has soaked through the sheet.
He looks away, eyes drawn to the big dressing mirror where the presenter would have sat before going on air.
He stares at his own reflection in the mirror for a long time.
THORNE
Guv?
Ryan leaves without speaking.
He walks way down the long empty corridor.
CUT TO:
INT. WASHROOM, NIGHT
Ryan stands at a wash-hand basin, letting the tap run, staring at his reflection in the wall-length mirror above the sink.
Finally he dips his hands in the water and splashes it over his face.
He stays there, hands on face, water dripping between his fingers, for a long second.
RYAN
(mutters)
I'm getting too old for this shit.
He looks up again into the mirror.
A hooded figure stands, a tall man, pressed right up in the corner of the wash-room.
Its face can't be seen, sitting completely in shadow underneath the pulled-forward hood.
The figure raises a hand and shows Ryan a bloodied knife.
Ryan turns quickly.
There is nobody there.
He looks in the mirror again.
There is nobody there.
Ryan moves back into the corridor… continually glancing back at the mirror.
There is no movement in the corridor.
He checks the mirror one last time.
There is only his own reflection.
He goes back out into the corridor.
RYAN
(shouting)
Dave!
Thorne pops his head out of the crime scene room.
THORNE
Yes guv?
RYAN
Bring that bastard Murray in. I don't care if he was having tea with the bloody Queen… I want to see him… now!
CUT TO:
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY
The room is minimally lit, only a single bulb, high above.
There is nothing in the room except for a table, four chairs, and a tape recorder on the table.
A long black reflective wall, a two way mirror, runs the length of the room on Ryan's left hand side.
DEREK MURRAY, slick TV presenter sits opposite Ryan and Thorne.
He is wearing a sharp suit, crisp and expensive, with a tightly done up collar and tie. He looks relaxed, happy almost, and leans back in his chair, one leg casually crossed over the other.
He looks like someone with supreme confidence, not remotely intimidated by the interview room.
He checks his heavy, expensive looking watch.
MURRAY
Will this take long? I have to be on air at one o' clock.
RYAN
It'll take as long as it takes.
THORNE
It might go faster if you just confessed now?
Murray smiles again.
MURRAY
What am I supposed to be confessing to? I'm afraid I've forgotten.
THORNE
Don't come the daft boy with us Mr Murray. Our patience only stretches so far.
(pause)
Your colleagues have developed a nasty habit of dying.
RYAN
That's four now Murray. Care to share your secret?
Murray smiles as if at a private joke.
He tugs theatrically at his cuffs, and brushes an imaginary piece of dust from his knee before replying.
MURRAY
I guess I'm just lucky.
THORNE
I wouldn't call four dead friends lucky exactly.
Thorne lays down a tabloid newspaper on the table in front of Murray.
A picture of Meg Reardon smiles up at them.
Murray pointedly doesn't look at it.
MURRAY
Friends? Is that what they're saying?  They were no friends of mine.
RYAN
You had a problem with them then?
MURRAY
No problem at all. Although I can't say I'm not glad to see the back of them. There's only so much chat one man can take about make-up and babies.
(pause)
No, I'd call it no great loss to the gene pool. They can't have had more than a hundred brain cells between them.
RYAN
And you're just -so- smart, aren't you?
MURRAY
(smiling)
Nice of you to say so Detective.
RYAN
You'll be laughing on the other side of your face when I'm finished with you.
MURRAY
Do hurry up then. I'm due on air this afternoon, and the ladies in make up do so look forward to my little chats with them.
Ryan makes to get out of his chair, but is held back by Thorne. He sits back, wearily, in the chair.
RYAN
(sighs)
Just for the record… Where were you at 10:30 last night?
MURRAY
Don't you watch T.V. Mr Ryan? I was reading the news.
(smiles)
What with the staff shortages of the last couple of weeks, I've had a bit of a promotion.
THORNE
Shows can be taped in advance.
MURRAY
(grinning)
Not this one. While we were on air we had the PM talking live from outside Downing Street… you can check if you like.
RYAN
We will. You can bet on that.
MURRAY
I'm not a gambling man Detective. I prefer to deal in certainties.
(pause)
That's how I know that I don't need my lawyer… my alibi is airtight.
RYAN
I deal in certainties as well. And I'm as certain as I can be that you're guilty. I don't know yet how you're doing it… but I'll find out.
Murray sits back in his chair, shoots his cuffs again, and smiles.
MURRAY
You lads must be in your element. You can't get many locked room mysteries in this day and age… Never mind four in a row. How many different ways are there? Seven isn't it?
RYAN
You can laugh all you like… I'm still going to get you. I don't like you. You're too smug by half. I don't know how you can live with yourself.
MURRAY
Why officer… I'm perfectly comfortable in my own skin. How about you? Do you ever look in the mirror? Do you like what you see?
RYAN
(To Thorne, disgusted)
Get him out of here.
Thorne leads Murray away while Ryan stays at the table, head in his hands.
Eventually he rises, and turns to look in the blackened glass of the two-way mirror.
A hooded figure sits at the table behind him.
It raises an arm, and points a bloody knife in his direction.
Ryan turns sharply.
He is alone in the room.
CUT TO:
INT. SQUAD ROOM, DAY
Ryan sits at his desk staring at a pile of paperwork. He shifts it aside to join a mound that is already there.
Dave Thorne walks in,
RYAN
Give me good news Dave. The Super is considering me for a post cleaning toilets in Toxteth.
THORNE
A promotion then guv?
RYAN
Ha Bloody Ha.
THORNE
I've been thinking about what Murray said in there. What did he mean about seven different ways?
RYAN
It's all genteel country house murder mystery bollocks. There was a writer back in the thirties who defined the seven ways somebody could be killed in a locked room.
THORNE
What were they?
RYAN
Fucked if I know. Real life doesn't follow cozy patterns… You've been a cop long enough to know that.
THORNE
Maybe we should check it out anyway, just in case.
RYAN
Be my guest… I'm sure the internet is full of it… Meanwhile, I'll just get on with banging my head against any brick wall I can find.
THORNE
Don't worry. I've got something here that should at least move the case on, one way or another.
Thorne shows Ryan a video cassette..
THORNE
The TV company just released this to us. It's their master copy of last night's news broadcast.
Thorne puts it in a video machine and powers up a TV that stands against the wall.
Ryan moves over to join him next to the TV.
RYAN
Are you sure you haven't got the desk sergeant's porn by mistake? I could do with a laugh.
The picture comes up to show Murray sitting at a desk, with the Prime Minister outside 10 Downing Street on the big screen in the background.
The TV station's digital clock is clearly visible… It reads 10:31.
RYAN
Bugger. What time did the call come in?
THORNE
10:33. Looks like he was telling the truth
RYAN
That bastard wouldn't know the truth if it hit him in the face with a mallet.
(pause)
Rewind a couple of minutes. Let's make sure he was there all the time.
Thorne rewinds the tape and starts it going.
Titles roll and the news starts
MURRAY (V.O.)
On tonight's news… The Prime Minister denies rumors of sexual impropriety in the Cabinet Office…
Murray is co-presenting with a female broadcaster.
Ryan taps the TV screen, pointing at the woman.
RYAN
Who's this one?
Thorne checks his notes.
THORNE
Jennie Morris. She's tipped to be heading up the broadcasts from now on. They've just paid a satellite channel an obscene amount of money for her. Rumor has it that she's not exactly the sharpest pencil in the box.
(pause)
Nice tits though.
RYAN
Best get her some protection. If she's in Murray's way, she's a target…
(pause)
Wait. Rewind.
Thorne rewinds the tape.
RYAN
Stop. Just there.
Ryan moves to the screen and stands close, peering. He points at the screen.
Murray is still at the newscaster desk.
His co-presenter is reading the news, but the man isn't paying attention.
He looks vague, as if listening to something either off-screen or in his earpiece.
Ryan leans in towards the TV.
THORNE
What's he doing?
RYAN
(peering closer)
He's listening to something… And check the time. It must be just about spot on when the disturbance was reported.
THORNE
An accomplice?
RYAN
(nodding)
I think so. I knew it all along. He's guilty. I just don't know how yet.
Ryan rises and stands by the window.
THORNE
(taps on screen)
This isn't evidence of anything guv. It might just be his producer giving him instructions
RYAN
I know. But my spider-sense is tingling. We're closer now than we were. We just need to keep pushing at him.
THORNE
What can we do? He'll have his lawyer on us in no time…. You know the type?
Ryan pauses, thinking.
RYAN
We won't get anywhere sitting on our arses here. You get the Morris woman into a safe house.
THORNE
What about you guv?
RYAN
I'm going to rattle Murray's cage and see what shit falls out.
CUT TO:
INT. SAFE HOUSE BEDROOM - DAY
JENNIE MORRIS, a late twenties, slightly dippy, new-age news-reader, stands by the window, staring out to a quiet street beyond.
She is immaculately dressed and looks out of place in the slightly squalid bedroom.
She is very obviously bored out of her skull.
She moves slightly to one side, sees her reflection in the window, and sticks her tongue out at herself, just as DC Thorne enters the room.
Thorne tries, unsuccessfully, to hide his amusement.
THORNE
You're supposed to be in hiding.
Morris reluctantly turns away from the window
MORRIS
You really think I'm safe here?
THORNE
As safe as anywhere Ms Morris. We have plain-clothes officers watching all approaches, morning noon and night.
Her voice rises, near hysteria.
MORRIS
Did that help Meg Reardon? Did it? You had people watching her as well. And look what happened?
Thorne tries to butt in, but isn't given a chance.
Morris walks over towards him, face up close to his, almost screaming.
MORRIS
Some bastard is killing off everybody I know and you've got me holed up in a Finchley guest-house? You're supposed to be a policeman. Hasn't anybody ever told you that landladies like to talk? Did you see how the old bat looked at me? She knew me straight away. Do you think half the street doesn't already know I'm here?
THORNE
Mrs Pollock is very discreet
MORRIS
Discreet! She was probably on the phone before we got up the stairs.
THORNE
I can assure you….
MORRIS
(sarcastically)
Oh. You can assure me?
(pause)
That makes me feel soooo much better.
Morris moves over to the mirror and stares at her reflection.
Her make up is smudged.
MORRIS
Now look what you made me do!
She turns away from the mirror.
Behind her, in the reflected room, a hooded figure, face in shadow, enters the room,
It walks past Thorne who has his back to the mirror, and walks towards her.
A large knife glints in the sunlight.
CUT TO:
EXT. A SHOP FRONT - DAY
Ryan watches Murray from across the street.
The newsreader stares vacantly at a reflective shop window, unmoving, his concentration elsewhere.
He doesn't move, even when a shopper barges in to him.
CUT TO:
INT. SAFE HOUSE BEDROOM - DAY
Morris has her back to the mirror.
MORRIS
Do you think it would have helped if I'd worn a wig?
Thorne is preoccupied, looking out of the window, checking for anything unusual. He merely grunts in reply, which further exasperates Morris.
MORRIS
(shouting)
I said…. Do you think….
Thorne turns, just in time to see a hand come out of the mirror and grab the news-reader by the hair. She stops in mid-sentence.
She is pulled backwards, hard, the back of her head coming up against the surface of the mirror.
The knife comes through, slowly, the mirror parting like melted butter.
It is only now that Thorne sees the hooded figure that seems to stand behind the newsreader, inside the mirror.
Thorne jumps forward.
He manages to push the knife away as it heads for Morris's throat.
The figure in the mirror's grip tightens on the newsreader's hair, pulling her back against the mirror, and again, harder the second time.
The knife comes up. 
Thorne grabs at it, and takes a thick cut across his palm for his trouble.
Blood spurts as the knife is pulled roughly through Thorne's palm.
Morris screams as she is once more dragged backward.
Thorne keeps trying to free her, but he can't pull the arm away from Morris's hair.
The news-reader screams grow louder as she is pulled backwards again
Her head smacks hard against the mirror.
Once more the knife comes up.
CUT TO:
EXT. A SHOP FRONT - DAY
Another shopper walks into Murray, and still the man doesn't move. He seems to be in a daze, almost asleep.
Ryan decides to take matters into his own hands. He walks across the road, in front of traffic.
Engines honk, but still Murray doesn't move.
RYAN
(shouting)
Murray!
No reaction.
Ryan walks up and grabs the man by the shoulder, trying to turn him away from the window. He has to use his full strength… moving the man is like trying to move a dead weight.
RYAN
Murray? I want a word with you.
Finally he manages to get Murray's attention.
Murray turns away from the window, cold fury in his eyes.
CUT TO:
INT. SAFE HOUSE BEDROOM - DAY
The knife falls to the ground with a soft thud.
Morris falls way from the mirror into Thorne 
They both fall in a heap on the floor.
CUT TO:
EXT. A SHOP FRONT - DAY
Murray looks like he might hit the detective. He snarls, almost feral.
Ryan steps back and raises his arms in protection.
Murray eventually gets a grip on himself, and smiles at Ryan.
MURRAY
Put your hands down Detective. I'm nowhere near stupid enough to hit a policeman in broad daylight on a busy street.
Murray turns away, starting to move off down the street.
RYAN
(shouting)
Did you hear me. I want a word with you.
The newsreader turns back.
MURRAY
I'm sure you do detective. But I'm in rather a hurry. Do you have the time?
Ryan checks his watch.
It is 11:15 am
When he looks up Murray is already striding away along the street.
CUT TO:
INT. SAFE HOUSE BEDROOM - DAY
Thorne and Morris disentangle themselves and rise slowly to their feet.
Morris sees the knife on the carpet and bends, meaning to pick it up.
THORNE
(shouting)
No. Leave it.
Morris backs away fast, as if she's been struck.
THORNE
(softer)
Sorry… It's just that I'll need to get forensics to look at that before we do anything else.
Morris nods weakly, then winces in pain.
THORNE
Are you OK?
MORRIS
(checking the back of her head)
I think so. But I'll have a stiff neck for a while
She looks back at the mirror.
MORRIS
What happened?
THORNE
I'm not sure… and I'm not too sure I want to know either.
Thorne checks the cut on his hand.
It is wide and ugly, still bleeding, dripping on the carpet.
MORRIS
Is the landlady discreet about cops bleeding on the premises as well?
Thorne uses a handkerchief as a makeshift bandage.
It quickly soaks through with blood.
He walks over to the mirror.
It too is smeared with blood.
When he tries to wipe it clear he stops, confused.
The bloodstain is on the inside.
CUT TO:
INT. FORENSICS LAB - DAY
Ryan and Thorne look down a a long trestle. Shiny chrome autoclaves and centrifuges litter the table.
A large knife, stained with blood sits inside a plastic bag.
RYAN
You're sure it was 11:15?
THORNE
Yep. I checked my watch just before the shit hit the fan.
RYAN
(incredulous)
Tell me again. This came out of the mirror?
He points down at the knife.
THORNE
I know how bad it sounds guv. But I swear, that's what happened.
RYAN
It could be the shock. You -were- injured.
Thorne flexes his hand. There is a new white bandage there.
THORNE
You don't believe that guv? If I didn't hallucinate when Sad Sam hit me over the head with his spanner during the raid on his garage last year, I'm not about to start now.
They both look down at the knife.
RYAN
So where the hell did it come from?
THORNE
I don't know. It all happened so fast.
RYAN
Was it Murray?
THORNE
How could it have been? You told me he was out on the street looking in shop windows.
Ryan looks at the knife again.
RYAN
Aye. But he was doing that -faraway- thing again, as if he was listening for something. There's definitely an accomplice involved here.
THORNE
I don't know about that guv….
RYAN
If I hear that one more time I'm going to have to kill somebody.
THORNE
Pick somebody else please? Somebody's already had one go at me tonight… I'm not sure I'm ready for another just yet.
RYAN
Sorry Dave. It's just his case. It's eating away at me, and I can't see a way in, a way to get something moving.
THORNE
Well here's something for you. I may not know much, but I know this… there's a nice big thumbprint on the handle. They're running it now.
He stops and looks at Ryan.
THORNE
You don't look very happy. This could be the break we've been waiting for.
Ryan shakes his head.
RYAN
It won't be that easy. I can feel it in my water.
(pause)
How's the woman? Did the doc give her the all clear?
Thorne nods.
THORNE
Bump and bruises, that's all. She lost a clump of hair at the back, and she's screaming blue murder at that, but she'll live.
RYAN
You've got her out of there?
THORNE
We've moved her again. She's up in the hotel in Barnet… you know, the one we use for diplomats who don't want the media to know where they are?
Ryan nods.
RYAN
I suppose she's as safe there as anywhere. But until we get this figured out, make sure she's kept away from mirrors.
THORNE
I still can't believe what I saw…
RYAN
I'm not sure I believe you either son. We'll let forensics tell us how the trick was done. In the meantime, all we can do is wait for the results.
Thorne clears his throat and looks sheepish.
THORNE
There's something else sir… Well, it might be something else, I'm not sure…
RYAN
Spit it out son, I haven't got all day.
THORNE
Somebody's come forward… A woman. She said she knew Murray years ago and she's got something to tell us. We've got her downstairs. Trouble is, she's just a wee bit… strange.
RYAN
I don't care if shes got three tits and two fannies. Just as long as she helps us nail the bastard. Lead me to her.
The two men leave the room.
A shadow slides over the shiny surface of the autoclave nearest the knife.
There is a hand reflected in the chrome
The metal of the autoclave bulges outward, as if pushed from the inside.
CUT TO:
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY
Ryan and Thorne enter the room.
A woman, LIZ DUNCAN, sits at the table.
She is in her early thirties, but looks older.
She is slightly unkempt, with sunken cheeks and hollow eyes.
Her eyes keep flickering to the large blackened glass of the two-way mirror.
Ryan checks the mirror before turning back to the table.
There are just the three of them reflected there.
DUNCAN
Can we do this somewhere else please. I don't like it here.
RYAN
(brusquely)
I'm afraid this is all we've got.
THORNE
(gently)
Miss Duncan. This is my boss. I want you to tell him what you told me.
DUNCAN
Will that make him stop? Will that get rid of him?
THORNE
Yes, as I said before, when we put him away he won't be able to bother you any more.
Liz Duncan looks at Ryan before turning back to Thorne
DUNCAN
He won't believe me. I can see it in his eyes. He doesn't understand. Not like you.
Ryan sits down heavily in the chair opposite her.
RYAN
I'm trying to catch a killer. I don't have time for pleasantries. But if you can help me nail Murray, I'll be as understanding as you like.
Duncan's gaze flits once more to the mirror, then back to Thorne.
DUNCAN
He'll be able to see me. Then I'll never escape. Never again.
RYAN
Who'll be able to see you?
DUNCAN
Him. The reason I'm here. The man you're after.
She looks at the mirror once more, then makes to rise from the chair, backing away from the mirror, eyes wide in fear.
RYAN
Miss. Please calm down. We only want to talk to you. You're not in any trouble.
DUNCAN
(sobs)
Not in any trouble? That's a good one.
She backs further away from the mirror.
THORNE
Ms. Duncan. Look at me.
She keeps staring at the mirror.
THORNE
Ms. Duncan. Please.
Her head turns to look at the Sergeant.
THORNE
Just look at me. And sit down… please?
Thorne puts out a hand and gently pulls her back into the seat.
DUNCAN
I've already told you everything.
THORNE
My boss needs to hear it from you. Otherwise he'll never understand.
DUNCAN
He won't understand anyway.
THORNE
(softly)
Just tell him.
She has one last look at the mirror, then pointedly stares straight into Ryan's eyes, gaze never wavering to either side.
DUNCAN
It started when we were students.
RYAN
We? You and Murray you mean?
DUNCAN
Please? Just let me tell it. You can ask all the questions you like afterwards.
Ryan sits back in his chair. 
Duncan starts to tell her story in a dull monotone, devoid of emotion.
DUNCAN
As I said… it started when we were students…
CUT TO:
INT. UNIVERSITY BAR - NIGHT
Duncan and Murray sit close together in a busy bar.
Duncan is dressed like a typical student, and looks younger, and a damned sight healthier.
Murray looks out of place in the student bar. Although he is the same age as everyone else there, he is the only one wearing a suit and tie and he looks uptight, prudish even, and more than slightly uncomfortable to be in these surroundings.
The music is too noisy to hear what they are saying clearly, but it is obvious there is an argument going on.
DUNCAN (V.O.)
We were on the same course… Comparative Religions, and found that we both had a passing interest in the occult… That led to us sharing the usual long student conversations about the meaning of life, why are we all here ya-de-ya-de-ya…
(pauses)
He'd been trying to persuade me to go out with him for weeks. He mistook my friendship as a come-on.
Murray is getting ever more heated, face reddening in anger as the younger Duncan becomes paler, more withdrawn.
DUNCAN (V.O.)
He said we were made for each other. I didn't agree. But he wouldn't take no for an answer
Murray starts to paw at Duncan, lunging straight for her breasts.
She pushes him away, but he keeps coming, almost pulling himself into her lap.
She slaps him in the face, hard… at the same moment as the music stops.
The whole bar goes quiet and turns to look.
YOUNGER DUNCAN
(shouting)
I said no, and I mean no.
Murray's eye take on an icy stare as Duncan stands and pushes through the crowd.
He calls after her and his voice follows her out of the bar.
MURRAY
I'll be watching you. 
(pause, then louder)
You wait and see. I'll be watching you.
DUNCAN (V.O.)
I thought that was the end of it.
(pause)
But it was just the start.
CUT TO:
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY
Duncan stops talking. Hot tears well up in her eyes
DUNCAN
(softly)
That was just the start.
She takes out a handkerchief and dries her eyes.
DUNCAN
I didn't think much more about it for a week or so… You don't at that age. Tiffs are just part and parcel of finding out the kind of people you're going to be comfortable with.
(pause)
Murray didn't quite see it that way.
(pause)
His next move was in my flat… but he wasn't invited.
CUT TO:
INT. BATHROOM - NIGHT
Duncan is getting undressed. She is naked, and has her back to the mirror.
She jumps as someone touches her backside.
She turns.
Someone is reflected in the mirror. He wears a hooded sweatshirt and jeans. 
The hood is pulled down to cover his face.
Duncan backs away as the figure pulls back the hood. 
It is Murray, smiling from ear to ear.
He raises a finger to his lips and licks it, the smile growing all the time.
Duncan backs away further, horrified, until she is backed up against the door.
Murray gives a little wave, a child saying "Bye-Bye" …
…and disappears.
DUNCAN (V.O.)
It never stops. Even when there's a gap of months between visits, it never stops.
CUT TO:
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
Duncan takes off her clothes, hangs them in the wardrobe.
She is singing to herself, something cheerful and happy.
She strips off her underwear and lobs it one handed towards the wash-basket.
She closes the wardrobe door.
As it swings shut, she catches a movement in the mirror.
Murray stands inside, smiling out at her.
She pounds the mirror with her fists, making no impression.
Murray just stands there, looking her up and down, his smile growing.
Murray gives a little wave, a child saying "Bye-Bye"
DUNCAN (V.O.)
It just goes on…
CUT TO:
INT. BEDROOM  - NIGHT
Duncan sits in front of a small mirror, removing her make-up.
She turns to drop a tissue in the small bin beside her dressing table.
When she turns back, Murray's leering face fills the mirror.
Murray gives a little wave, a child saying "Bye-Bye"
DUNCAN (V.O.)
And on.
CUT TO:
EXT. DRIVEWAY - DAY
Duncan walks towards her car.
She isn't wearing any make-up
She is obviously afraid, checking out her surroundings, jumping as a bird moves in the hedgerow.
A silver car passes, the street reflected dully in its side panels.
Duncan flinches, and walks faster to her car.
CUT TO:
INT. INSIDE CAR - DAY
Duncan gets in,
She sighs loudly.
She closes the door, puts on her seat-belt, checks the rear-view mirror.
And screams.
Murray sits in the reflected back seat, smiling.
He gives a little wave, a child saying "Bye-Bye"
DUNCAN (V.O.)
And on.
CUT TO:
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - DAY
DUNCAN
(dully)
Do you have any idea how many mirrors there are? How many reflective surfaces? Do you have any concept as to the lengths you'd have to go to avoid them?
There is a long silence in the room while Ryan stares at Duncan.
She continues to look him straight in the eye, and it is Ryan who looks away first.
RYAN
You're saying that Murray is stalking you.
(pause)
From inside mirrors?
DUNCAN
Yes. That's what I'm saying.
There is another silence. Duncan still hasn't moved her gaze… it is fixed on Ryan, pointedly not looking in the mirror.
Ryan looks over at Thorne
RYAN
That's it? That's all there is?
Thorne nods.
THORNE
I told you it was strange.
Ryan turns back to the woman.
RYAN
Ms Duncan, I can see you're afraid of something. And it's a very interesting story. But look at this from our point of view? You might just as well come in and told us you'd been abducted by little green men.
DUNCAN
Grey men.
RYAN
What?
DUNCAN
The ones doing the abducting? I believe they're grey this year.
Thorne is grinning until Ryan spears him with a look.
RYAN
I wouldn't know anything about that. What I'm saying is that I'm afraid there's not much we can do. Not without solid proof.
Duncan nods glumly.
DUNCAN
I'm frightened, not stupid. I know that nobody's going to believe me. But when I saw the newspaper stories… saw his face looking out at me from the papers, I knew I had to come and tell somebody. It's him that's doing it, isn't it? It's him that's killing those women.
RYAN
I'm afraid I can't discuss…
DUNCAN
Yes, yes, I understand… You're worried that the loony woman will blab her story to the first reporter she sees on the steps outside.
(pauses)
You've got nothing to worry about on that score Detective. Publicity is the last thing I'm after.
RYAN
(softening)
I wish there was something I could do to help you.
DUNCAN
Just catch him. Watch the mirrors detective. Keep a good eye on them.
Ryan sits, not speaking, staring at the woman across the table, trying to decide how much to believe.
RYAN
How long has this been going on?
DUNCAN
Years. Every night for years.
RYAN
And he's never come out of the mirror?
DUNCAN
Not since that first night. I think he'd like to, but I don't get close enough to give him a chance.
Her eyes finally slide to the blackened mirror, then dart away again, too fast.
DUNCAN
That's all I know. I'd like to go now. And I'd like to be able to leave without anybody seeing me.
Ryan catches Thorne's eye.
The sergeant helps Duncan out of the chair
THORNE
Come with me Ms. Duncan. We'll check with the desk sergeant about getting you out the back way.
Duncan moves to the far side of the table.
She sidles along the wall, as far away from the blackened mirror as she can get, almost touching the far wall of the room. 
When she gets to the door she leaves fast.
After Thorne has followed her outside Ryan stands looking into the blackened glass.
There is nothing there but his own reflection.
CUT TO:
INT. FORENSIC LAB - NIGHT
Ryan and Thorne stare down at the trestle.
An empty, bloodied plastic bag sits next to the autoclave. There is no sign of the knife that was there previously.
RYAN
What do you mean it's gone?
Thorne is flustered.
He carries a brown manilla envelope. He keeps opening the flap, taking the contents half out, then putting them away again, as if afraid to look.
THORNE
It's just gone guv, and Tim says there's been nobody in here since we left.
RYAN
Somebody must have been?
Thorne shakes his head.
Ryan sees him looking at the shiny chrome casing of the autoclave.
RYAN
Come on Dave. You're not buying any of this mirror bullshit are you? You're going as daft as the Duncan woman.
THORNE
You weren't there back in that bedroom.
He holds up his bandaged hand.
THORNE
Where do you think I got this?
(pause)
I've got something else to show you.
Thorne finally opens the envelope and takes out the contents.
He lays two transparencies on the table, side by side.
RYAN
What's this?
THORNE
On the left we have Murray's thumbprint. On the right we have the print we lifted from the knife.
Ryan bends over and looks closely.
RYAN
They don't match.
THORNE
Not at first sight. But look.
Thorne takes the left hand transparency and turns it over back to front.
He lays it down on top of the right hand one.
The lines and whorls match perfectly.
THORNE
(whispers)
They're a mirror image. A perfect mirror image.
CUT TO:
INT. SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT
Ryan and Thorne sit across a desk from each other.
Ryan has the transparencies laid out in front of him.
RYAN
So, we're saying he can move inside mirrors? Just to get this clear… We're saying that our prime suspect attacks and kills from inside a mirror, while, at the same time, his real self is actually somewhere else?
THORNE
(glumly)
I can't see any other explanation.
RYAN
Then we're not looking hard enough. I can't go to the chief with this. He'd have me pensioned off before the night shift got in
(pause)
No. There's something we're missing. A magic trick of some sort.
He pushes up from the seat.
RYAN
Let's call it a day. Tomorrow I want you to spend some time with the Morris woman. And check up on Murray's on-air alibis. See if you can see how they could be faked.
THORNE
What about you guv? Where will you be?
RYAN
I'm going to keep rattling Murray's cage. All I've got to do is piss him off enough. He'll make a mistake. They all do.
CUT TO:
INT. BAR - NIGHT
Ryan sits at the bar nursing a whisky.
He doesn't spot the hooded figure, moving as if unseen through the crowd in the reflection of the big bar mirror.
Ryan looks up into the mirror… just in time to see the figure standing over him, knife in hand.
Ryan throws himself to one side, scattering drinkers and drinks alike.
There's a moment's mayhem in the bar as people try to figure out why Ryan has suddenly decided to throw himself about.
Ryan gets to his feet quickly to confront the hooded figure…
But there is nobody there. In the mirror there is only the reflected bar and a group of confused people.
BARMAN
I think you'd better be buying these folks another drink Mr Ryan?
Ryan nods.
RYAN
Right enough John. Get everybody the same again… and one for yourself for the bother.
The bar returns to something like normality as he settles back on the stool.
The barman gives him another whisky.
Ryan raises it to his lips.
He looks in the big mirror.
The hooded figure stands, silently, in the corner of the bar.
It raises a hand and gives Ryan a little wave, like a kid saying "Bye-Bye"
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL BEDROOM TWO - DAY
Thorne and Morris are in a large hotel bedroom.
They sit on two arm chairs in front of a huge TV.
Morris is drinking vodka, pouring herself a large glass from an already half-empty bottle.
MORRIS
Are you sure you won't join me?
THORNE
Much as I'd like to, the guv would murder me. I'm on duty.
MORRIS
Your loss
She downs a two finger shot with no apparent effect, and pours another.
THORNE
We should get this finished while you can still see straight.
Thorne holds up a videotape.
THORNE
You're sure all of these came straight out of the archive?
MORRIS
(still drinking)
I'm sure. Anna, my PA, said they came out of the vault, and that nobody had touched them since the original broadcasts.
Thorne stares at the TV.
The video has been paused, and Murray is sitting there, smiling, like the cat that got the cream.
THORNE
And Murray was on air at the time of all of the murders, just like he said. Are you sure there's no way this could be faked?
Morris pours yet another drink before replying.
MORRIS
Sorry Sergeant. I told you. All of the clips are time encoded. I can't see how he'd do it. And if I'm not smart enough, then Murray certainly isn't. He's not the brightest bulb in the gantry.
THORNE
It's just too pat. Too perfect. The guv was right. He was  looking vacant during the times when the murders were actually committed.
MORRIS
What does that prove? It looked to me like he was listening to the producer.
THORNE
Does that happen a lot?
MORRIS
All the time darling. But some of us are professional enough to hide it when we're on air.
Thorne wearily runs his hands through his hair.
THORNE
(wearily)
I wish I knew how he was doing it.
MORRIS
Maybe this will help. I had Anna fetch it from the library.
She takes a book from a large handbag and hands it to the policeman.
He has a look at the cover and laughs out loud.
THORNE
Practical mirror magic? What is this shit?
He opens it and reads aloud
THORNE
-To see the image of the one you will marry, ask the mirror three times on the 15th of April.-
He laughs out loud again.
THORNE
I wish I'd known that when I was younger. I could have seen the wife coming, run the other way and saved myself years of trouble.
MORRIS
(offended)
I was only trying to help.
She storms off in a huff, slamming the bathroom door behind her.
CUT TO:
INT. DEPARTMENT STORE - DAY
Ryan is tailing Murray through a quiet department store, having to stay well back to avoid being seen.
Murray takes a shirt off the pegs and walks into a changing cubicle.
While waiting, Ryan calls Thorne on his mobile.
RYAN (ON phone)
Dave? Any joy at your end?
THORNE (ON PHONE)
Sorry guv. His alibi is rock solid. The tapes prove it. He was on the air all the time. But he did have that vague look you mentioned, as if his concentration was elsewhere. Are you thinking there's an accomplice?
RYAN (ON PHONE)
Possibly. And possibly the mirrors are all rigged in advance somehow. On your way back, check in with forensics. They've got the mirror from the last safe house. They should know by now how the trick was done.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
Will do guv. But if it was a trick, it's got me baffled.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
Me too son. Me too.
Ryan walks through the store aisles, heading closer to the changing room.
THORNE (ON PHONE)
The Morris woman thinks its some kind of voodoo bull-shit. Black magic.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
It's bull-shit right enough. And if there's any magic involved I'll eat a pile of it. Talking of Morris… how's she holding up?
THORNE (ON PHONE)
She took the huff when I poo-pooed her theory. She's off powdering her nose, or whatever it is women do in the lavvy.
Ryan looks at the changing room entrance. Inside, one of the cubicles has the curtain drawn.
The one beside it is empty, showing the cramped changing area… and the full length mirror inside.
Ryan breaks into a run.
RYAN (ON PHONE, SHOUTING)
Get in there. Break the door down if you have to. Murray's up to something.
Ryan bursts into the changing cubicle.
Murray stands in front of the tall mirror, staring vacantly into it.
He has no reflection.
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL BEDROOM TWO - DAY
Thorne charges through the bathroom door, just as Morris starts screaming.
Morris is being pulled towards the mirror by a hooded man.
A torso from the chest up has come right out of the mirror, one arm around the woman's neck, the other wielding a large knife.
The knife flashes, heading for Morris' neck.
Thorne barrels into the woman and knocks her sideways, the pair of them falling heavily to the floor.
Morris is screaming, hysterical, struggling, and Thorne has to scramble quickly away from her flailing arms and feet.
When he finally gets free of their entangled limbs Thorne looks up.
There is no figure in the mirror, just the reflection of the bathroom.
CUT TO:
INT. CUBICLE - DAY
Ryan knocks Murray down, punching him, twice, on the head.
He raises his fist, thinking about a third punch, but can't bring himself to do it… Murray lies on the floor, smiling up at him.
Ryan holds out a hand, offering to help the other man to his feet, but Murray refuses.
Murray gets up, groggy, and checks the bruising on his cheek in the mirror.
This time, his reflection is there.
Murray turns and smiles even more widely at Ryan.
MURRAY
That was a big mistake.
CUT TO:
INT. SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT
Ryan and Thorne are alone in the quiet squad room.
They are sharing a bottle of whisky, drinking out of paper coffee cups.
It's getting dark outside.
THORNE
So how much trouble are you in this time guv?
RYAN
I'm lip deep in shit, and the DCI is putting on his water skis.
THORNE
Not much change there then?
Ryan takes a heavy slug of whisky before replying
RYAN
No. This time it's different. Questions at high levels, results needed, all that happy shit. I'm only one bad call away from being pulled off the case completely … and you know what. I'm not even sure I care.
THORNE
You don't mean that guv. We're getting close. I can feel it.
RYAN
(wearily)
Aye. But close to what?
Ryan takes pours himself another drink.
RYAN
How's the woman holding up?
THORNE
She's a hysterical mess. She's demanded a room without mirrors, and threatened to sick the press on us if we don't arrest Murray.
RYAN
You'll have to sort that mess out. I'm on desk duty, pending a formal investigation.
THORNE
Is Murray pressing charges?
RYAN
Not yet. But this case has got the top brass worried. It looks like I'm today's scapegoat. But that's not the worst. We've been ordered to drop the whole Murray line of enquiry. -Insufficient evidence to warrant any continuation.-
THORNE
Bollocks
RYAN
That's what I said. I know Murray's type. He's a game-player… a risk taker. He'd have screwed up sooner or later.
A young constable enters the squad-room carrying an envelope.
He takes in the whisky bottle and the two paper cups, but says nothing.
He hands the envelope to Thorne.
CONSTABLE
Forensics report sir…
(pause)
Anybody fancy a brew? The kettle's on.
Ryan looks at the constable, looks at the bottle, and sighs heavily. 
He puts the whisky bottle back in his desk drawer
RYAN
Aye, we'll have two coffees. Black as you like.
The constable leaves.
Thorne opens the envelope and reads the report.
Ryan finishes off the last of the whisky in his cup while he's waiting.
RYAN
Come on son. Don't keep me in suspenders.
Thorne keeps reading.
Finally he looks up.
THORNE
It's the report about the bloodied mirror. The forensics boys want to know who the joker is.
RYAN
How so?
THORNE
They took the whole mirror casing to bits… stripped it right down as far as it would go. The blood is between the glass and the mirror coating itself. They want to know how it was done.
RYAN
So do I son. So do I. Do you have any bright ideas? This case has got my head spinning.
THORNE
That'll be the whisky. You need to cut down on the booze guv. It affects your performance
RYAN
(bitterly)
Aye. So the wife always told me. Is that the extent of your words from on high?
Thorne puts the report down on Ryan's desk and moves to look out of the window.
It is now full dark outside, and his reflection shows up clearly in the window.
THORNE
I'm beginning to think the Duncan woman is closer to the truth than we are.
RYAN
Black magic? Hocus-pocus? More bollocks.
THORNE
You said yourself he had no reflection…
RYAN
Aye. And I've also seen a so-called magician make a jumbo jet disappear. I didn't believe that one either.
THORNE
Did I ever tell you about my old grannie? She used to see things, and…
RYAN
Don't give me the -There are more things than are dreamed of in your philosophy- bullshit. I've heard it too many times… usually from old hippies or folk that have taken too readily to the magic mushrooms. I didn't expect it from you.
Thorne turns away from the window.
Once again he holds up his bandaged hand.
THORNE
Cut by a knife that came out of a mirror? Remember?
Behind him in the reflection in the window, a dark shadow moves, like oil over water.
RYAN
(softly)
Dave. Stand away from the window.
The dark shadow resolves into the now-familiar hooded figure.
It gives Ryan the little child's wave.
Thorne hasn't moved. He is still staring at Ryan, puzzled.
RYAN
(shouting)
Dave. For Christ's sake, step away from the window.
Thorne makes the mistake of all horror movie victims.
Instead of doing as he's told, he turns back, towards the window.
The hooded figure steps forward.
A knife flashes out of the mirror, taking Thorne twice in the gut, then a third time, before pulling upwards, hard.
Thorne grunts once, and starts to fall.
Ryan is still just getting out of his chair as Thorne hits the floor, face up.
Blood seeps in a slowly growing pool.
Thorne's dead eyes stare at the ceiling, the knife sticking out of his belly.
In the mirror the hooded figure gives a last cheeky little wave, steps off to one side, and is immediately gone from view.
Ryan can only stand, stunned, looking down at the dead body at his feet.
Everything is suddenly quiet.
At the far end of the room there is the clicking of cups and rattle of cutlery.
CONSTABLE
(shouting)
Coffee's on its way
Ryan bends and closes Thorne's eyes.
RYAN
(whispering)
I'm sorry it took me so long to believe you Dave.
He rises, gets his jacket, and starts to back away towards the external exit.
The young constable has his back to Ryan, still making coffee
Ryan is almost at the door when his mobile phone rings.
The young cop turns at the noise, and Ryan gives him a wave.
RYAN
Personal call, I'll take it outside.
As fast as he can manage without looking furtive, Ryan leaves the squad-room.
CUT TO:
EXT. OUT ON THE STREET - NIGHT
Ryan walks quickly down the street.
He is on his phone, and Murray is on the other end.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
Murray you bastard. I'll have you for this
MURRAY (ON PHONE)
Detective Ryan, fleeing the scene of a crime? Naughty naughty.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
We've got you Murray. Your prints are on the murder weapon.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
Well, we both know that's not true now don't we? Besides, your Sergeant has been killed, and I'm just about to go on air with an exclusive. Can you guess what it is yet.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
Murray you bastard, I'm coming for you.
MURRAY (ON PHONE)
By the time you get here I'll be long gone. And every cop in the country will be after you, after I announce that you've just confessed to killing your sergeant.
RYAN (ON PHONE)
No one will believe you.
MURRAY (ON PHONE)
You're smarter than that Ryan. There were only the two of you in the room. The constable will vouch for that. He should be discovering the body just about now, so you must excuse me, my public is waiting. I'll be on air for less than five minutes. Then I do believe I'll pay a call on that nice Morris lady. What do you think? Is she a screamer?
RYAN (ON PHONE, SHOUTING)
Murray. You bastard.
The other end of the line goes dead.
Ryan looks up at the windows of the police station.
The young constable stares, ashen faced, down at him.
CUT TO:
INT. CAR - NIGHT
Ryan drives like a maniac. 
Horns beep, lights flash and tires squeal as other vehicles have to get out of his way.
He looks in the rear view mirror.
Murray's face smiles back at him
Ryan tears the mirror from its housing in a rage and tosses it out the car window.
It bounces along the road behind the car before coming to a halt in the gutter.
The car continues off down the road.
The mirror lies on the ground, Murray still smiling up out of it.
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL BEDROOM (2) - NIGHT
Morris sits on the bed watching the TV.
Above the bed a large mirror has been turned to face the wall.
On the bedside cabinet beside her is a near empty bottle of vodka, and a tall glass, filled to the brim.
The phone rings, but it is across the room, too far away for her to be bothered to move.
MORRIS
Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!
It rings out.
Morris nods theatrically, contented.
She lifts the glass, spilling some down her cleavage but she doesn't notice as she knocks back a  large gulp.
Morris is very drunk.
Murray comes on the TV, reading the news.
MURRAY (V.O.)
On the news tonight we have the latest from Downing Street where the Home Secretary is fighting for his political life.
(pause)
Also coming up, how Russia may be about the rejoin the race for Mars.
(pause)
But first…
It takes Morris a while to notice who it is as she struggles to focus.
She waves her hand at the TV, forgetting that she is holding the glass.
More vodka spills, this time on the bedspread.
MORRIS 
(shouting)
I should be doing that tonight! Wanker!
MORRIS
(whispers)
Sorry mum.
She goes quiet as an old picture of Ryan is shown on the screen.
MURRAY (V.O.)
And in a startling development, Detective Inspector Ryan, the officer in charge of the case of the murdered TV presenters, is himself on the run tonight after the discovery of the body of his second in command, Detective Sergeant Thorne. Rumors are flying around the city that further charges, relating to the original murders, are also being considered.
Morris sits, stunned at the news.
She sips at the vodka, but her eyes never leave the TV.
MURRAY (V.O.)
It is understood that Detective Ryan, already tired and frustrated by the high profile case, suffered some kind of breakdown and attacked the other officer with one of the murder weapons that had been gathered as evidence. Police have advised the public not to approach the detective and to consider him armed and dangerous. A nationwide hunt is already under way
(pause)
…And in other news tonight
Morris lifts the remote control from beside her and tries to switch off the TV
It doesn't work.
She fiddles with the batteries. 
No joy.
She bashes the remote against the headboard of the bed.
MORRIS
Work! Bloody thing!
Still nothing.
Murray is still on the T.V.
The sight of him drives Morris into a frenzy.
MURRAY (V.O.)
Over now to the weather and Giles Hayworth. Giles, will we need our brollies tomorrow?
Morris gets off the bed, too fast at first, then more carefully as she realizes just how drunk she actually is.
When she tries to stand she falls over, half-on, half off the bed. 
She tries to stand, but she's never going to make it.
Giggling, she drops to the floor and crawls on all fours to the TV. 
She reaches to switch off, having three tries, like a drunk trying to insert a key in a door.
Finally she makes it, just as the picture cuts to the weatherman.
MORRIS
(still giggling)
Sorry Giles.
She turns the off switch.
It comes away in her hand, and falls to the floor, rolling away.
She looks down to the floor as the screen goes black.
Above her, unseen, the hooded man is in the reflection, coming across the room, moving fast.
In triumph, Morris finds the switch.
MORRIS
Got you, you little bastard.
She puts the switch back in position, and looks up.
The hooded figure is right there, seemingly inside the TV.
Morris opens her mouth, ready to scream.
FLASH!
A long thin blade, more of a sword than a knife, slides out from the TV screen. 
It goes straight between her teeth and explodes out of the back of her head in a shower of blood.
The sword retracts, as quickly as it has come, grating against teeth as it is pulled out.
In the reflection, the hooded figure backs away, and leaves the room.
Morris's body slumps to the floor below the TV.
There is a single drop of blood on the TV screen. 
It runs down the screen… on the inside.
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL BEDROOM (2) - LATER
Ryan bursts into the room, knocking the door off its hinges.
He knows before he even looks at the body that he is too  late.
A voice calls up from downstairs.
LANDLADY (O.S.)
Detective? Is everything all right?
Morris lies sprawled in front of the TV, bloody and dead.
In the distance, but getting closer fast, police sirens wail.
Outside the room, footsteps, climbing the stairs.
LANDLADY (O.S.)
Detective?
Ryan leaves, harried.
He reaches the door just as the landlady arrives and pushes her roughly aside.
CUT TO:
INT. HOTEL STAIRCASE
Ryan runs down the hotel stairs three at a time.
Above him, the landlady's screams start, mixed with the sound of police sirens, much closer now.
CUT TO:
EXT. LARGE HOUSE - NIGHT
Ryan stalks in the shrubbery outside Murray's house, a small mansion in extensive gardens.
His phone rings, but he ignores it.
There are statues scattered around the garden, but instead of faces, they have had oval mirrors implanted. 
Every move that Ryan makes is reflected in these mirrors.
Ryan steps up to the nearest window. Peering in, he sees a large room stretch away from him.
He throws a  brick through the window.
Crash! Loud in the quiet night.
He smashes shards of glass aside with his elbow and climbs inside.
CUT TO:
INT. LARGE ROOM - NIGHT
The room is full of mirrors, crammed floor to ceiling. Tall ones, small ones, ornate, gilded ones and simple functional ones.
Ryan is reflected in all of them.
The only clear patch is at the door. There is no other furniture apart from the mirrors.
RYAN
(muttering)
Looks like pretty boy likes to look at himself
Ryan stops and looks at himself in a large mirror. 
He looks dishevelled, harried, nothing at all like a policeman who might be in control of the situation.
He looks away quickly.
RYAN
(shouting)
Come out come out wherever you are. No more games, Murray.
He heads for the door.
Something hooded and shadowed stalks Ryan's movements in the mirrors, following behind him.
A knife flashes in the gloom.
CUT TO:
INT. STAIRCASE - NIGHT
Out in the hallway the tall wall up a huge ornate staircase is also lined with mirrors.
RYAN
(shouting)
Did you know that the word "Cissy" is derived from Narcissus?
Ryan climbs the stairs.
In the mirrors, the hooded figure silently follows.
CUT TO:
INT. UPSTAIRS FLOOR - NIGHT
The staircase opens out to an upstairs floor.
Ryan climbs the last stair, and stands, open mouthed in amazement.
He is standing at the entrance to a fun-fair style hall of mirrors,mirrors which run all the way from floor to ten-foot high ceiling.
He is reflected in the nearest one, short and squat like a Tolkien-esque goblin.
Behind him in the reflection, a squat hooded figure moves.
RYAN 
(whispering)
I see you.
Ryan takes a pistol from the pocket of his jacket and shows it to the mirror.
RYAN
Let's see just how good the trick really is.
The hooded shadow moves away, heading further into the corridor of distorted reflections ahead of Ryan.
Ryan follows, taking care to keep out of arms reach of the mirrors.
The corridor between the mirrors narrows.
It is a couple of seconds before Ryan notices… almost a couple of seconds too many.
SLASH!
A knife flashes out at ankle level, cutting through his trousers and immediately bringing blood.
Ryan stumbles, almost falls.
He hits a mirror. A hand comes out of it and makes a grab for him, but he pulls himself away just in time.
The hooded figure moves in the reflection.
Ryan shoots, twice.
Glass shatters, the mirror crashes to the ground.
The hooded figure is still on the move, heading further into the maze, out of sight.
The room falls quiet, the only sound coming from Ryan's laboured breathing.
Ryan's phone goes off
This time he answers.
MURRAY (ON PHONE)
Are you having fun yet?
RYAN
Murray you bastard. Where are you.
Murray (on phone)
I'm at work. Unlike you I still have a job. How do you like my house? Quite something, isn't it?
RYAN (on phone)
Come on over here and you can show me around personally.
MURRAY (on phone)
Oh, I think I'll stay here and be visible for a while. A policeman is about to die in my house. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near that, now would I?
(pause, then shouting)
BEHIND YOU!
On instinct, Ryan turns.
SLASH!
The attack is once again at ground level, cutting him on the other leg just below the knee.
He takes another slash to the left shoulder as he stumbles, and just gets out of the way of a cut that is heading for his gut.
All falls quiet again.
Murray's laughter comes through from the phone.
MURRAY (on phone)
Tell me officer, do you still think it's a trick?
Ryan shoots the nearest mirror and the shards fall to the ground.
He checks the cut on his shoulder and his fingers come away bloody.
He has to dodge quickly as the knife flashes just in front of his face.
Ryan shoots again, and again, shattering the mirrors on either side of where he stands, just to give himself some breathing space.
MURRAY (ON PHONE)
Now you're getting the idea.
(pause)
But you still quite haven't thought it through, have you?
A blade comes up, seemingly through the floor, passing through Ryan's foot in a spray of blood.
Ryan lifts the dripping foot, just in time to see the knife retract through a small shard of mirror barely wider than the blade.
Murray's laughter echoes through the hall of mirrors as Ryan heads at a stumbling run for the stairs.
The mobile phone lies on the ground forgotten.
Ryan reaches the top of the stairwell and turns, firing indiscriminately.
Glass shatters, mirrors crash and tumble.
Slash!
The knife flashes out from the mirror on the wall at the top of the stairs.
Ryan takes a deep wound under the ribs.
He falls, gasping to the ground.
The gun drops from his grasp.
He reaches for it, then has to throw himself away as the knife slashes towards his hamstrings.
He rolls forward, over the lip of the stars, tumbling down them in a bloodied heap.
Almost on all fours he heads for the front door, too late realizing that its top half is one long mirror.
The hooded figure stands in there, silent.
Ryan shoulder charges into it, fracturing the mirror into small pieces.
He dives through the door, narrowly avoiding a knife thrust that comes up through a shard on the floor
He falls out onto the driveway, panting.
In the distance, the nee-naw of police sirens, drawing closer.
Ryan drags himself away to where he parked the car, leaving a trail of blood on the grass.
In the oval mirrors on the statues Murray watches, smiling.
Ryan finally reaches the car.
He slumps against it, almost exhausted.
The knife flashes out of the wing-mirror, drawing a deep cut across the back of his hand.
Ryan screams.
He tears the wing mirror off and throws it away.
As it tumbles through the air he sees Murray's face reflected there, still smiling out as the car is driven off.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - NIGHT
Liz Duncan sits at a kitchen table, reading from a thick, heavy leather-bound book and taking notes.
In the room around her all reflective surfaces have either been painted matt-black, or covered up.
A large heavy wooden-framed mirror has been turned to the wall. A grandfather clock has had its glass dial-cover removed and the kettle, just coming to the boil on a gas hob, is covered in scratches and scrapes to prevent reflections.
A radio, matt black of course, plays softly beside her
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Police are still hunting for Detective Inspector Jack Ryan tonight after the violent death of his colleague Dave Thorne. A police operation is currently underway at the home of the newsreader Derek Murray, where Ryan was sighted less than an hour ago. An eye witness report described the scene just before the police arrived as 'bloody. Very bloody.'
Duncan jumps with a start as someone knocks heavily on her door.
She switches off the radio.
DUNCAN
(whispering)
Go away.
The knocking becomes banging, louder, more persistent.
DUNCAN
Please, just go away
The banging keeps up, rattling the door on its hinges.
Finally she gets up and stands beside it.
DUNCAN
Who's there?
RYAN
D.I. Ryan. I need your help.
DUNCAN
Please. Go away. They're looking for you.
(pause)
-He'll- be looking for you.
RYAN
I've got nowhere else to go.
The banging on the door gets louder still.
RYAN
Please. Don't let him finish me.
Duncan opens the door.
Ryan, a bloodied mess, falls on the floor at her feet.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Ryan sits on a kitchen chair, naked to the waist, a large make-shift bandage wound around his torso, one over his shoulder, another round his left hand, all stained red.
Duncan sits on the floor, bandaging his foot.
DUNCAN
You need to see a doctor.
Ryan laughs bitterly.
RYAN
I need to see a shrink. What happened tonight just isn't possible.
Duncan squeezes his foot, lightly, testing her bandage.
Ryan winces in pain.
DUNCAN
These wounds seem real enough to me.
RYAN
I'm still having trouble believing it.
Duncan stands and stretches, easing the kinks out of her back.
DUNCAN
(muttering)
Welcome to my world.
Ryan holds up the tattered remnants of his shirt and jacket and starts to put them on.
DUNCAN
I think I can do better than that.
She takes a thick woollen jumper from a washing bag and hands it to him.
DUNCAN
It's huge on me… It belonged to my father. It'll probably smell a bit though… I spent the morning with the chickens.
Ryan pulls on the jumper, wincing again as he stretches the wounds.
RYAN
How do you cope?
DUNCAN
Carefully
(pause)
And with the help of large doses of alcohol.
She takes a bottle of malt whisky, still in its box, from a cupboard and places it on the table.
She turns to fetch two, opaque, tumblers from a different cupboard.
While her back is turned Ryan starts to take the whisky from the box
Duncan turns and sees what he is doing.
DUNCAN
(shouting)
NO!
She pulls the whisky from him, dropping the bottle back into the box.
She cradles it to her chest, whimpering.
She is shaking, like a dog that has been beaten regularly.
DUNCAN
(whispering)
What part of -carefully- are you having trouble with?
RYAN
But surely not…?
He motions at the bottle.
DUNCAN
But surely yes…
She steps forward.
Using both hands, one holding the box, the other holding the bottle, she pours a large measure into each tumbler.
She pushes one across the table to Ryan
DUNCAN
Don't look straight down into it. If you can see your face, then so can he…
RYAN
I'm having difficulty adjusting…
Duncan takes a huge swig of whisky with no apparent side effects.
DUNCAN
So am I… And I've had years of a start.
Duncan sits in the chair opposite Ryan
DUNCAN
You still haven't told me what happened.
RYAN
It was Murray
DUNCAN
I guessed that much.
Ryan stares into space, shaking his head.
RYAN
(whispers)
It's just not possible.
DUNCAN
(softly)
You won't get anywhere until you get past that.
RYAN
Oh, I'll get past it. I'm going to get the bastard.
Ryan tries to stand, then holds his side, stifling a scream.
DUNCAN
You're not going anywhere for a while.
She pours more whisky for the both of them.
DUNCAN
I heard on the radio. It seems every cop in the country is after you… but they'll never think to look here.
RYAN
I couldn't… It puts you in trouble…
DUNCAN
(laughs bitterly)
Detective, you're not trouble… You're a welcome distraction.
She leans over the table and pushes the heavy book towards him.
DUNCAN
Besides, if you -really- want to stop the bastard, you've got some reading to catch up on.
She looks up.
DUNCAN
Detective?
Ryan is fast asleep.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - MORNING
Ryan wakes slowly, groaning.
He is still sitting in the kitchen chair but now he has a duvet draped over him.
The curtains have been drawn. Watery sunlight comes through windows that have been made opaque by scratching them heavily with something abrasive.
Liz Duncan is at the cooker, making eggs and bacon.
RYAN
Smells good.
DUNCAN
It'll be ready in five minutes. I've put out a towel in the bathroom for you if you want to wash up… Just remember to put some liquid soap in the basin before you run the water…
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Ryan walks back into the kitchen area, gingerly, holding his side.
He looks ashen and gaunt, a candidate for a hospital bed.
He slumps down into the chair and lets out a sigh of relief.
Duncan puts a plate of food in front of him.
She sees him wince.
DUNCAN
Do you still think you don't need a doctor?
Ryan picks up a knife and fork.
He smiles when he realizes they are white and plastic.
RYAN
I'll be just fine… as long as you'll teach me how to be careful.
DUNCAN
(wearily)
How long have you got?
RYAN
As long as you'll have me. I'm going to fight him. And I'm going to get him. Then maybe we'll both be able to sleep easy.
DUNCAN
Sleep? I've forgotten what that's like.
Duncan sits down with her food.
DUNCAN
But being careful is something I've got pretty good at. Watch and learn detective. Watch and learn.
They eat in silence.
Ryan finishes first. He reaches over and lifts the book, reading from the spine.
RYAN
-Catoptromancy in theory and practice- Let me guess? Mirror magic?
Duncan is chewing a mouthful of food, but she nods in agreement.
RYAN
You really believe in all this stuff?
DUNCAN
After what's happened… don't you?
RYAN
It's about as far away from my day to day life as you can get.
Duncan finishes her food and moves her plate to one side.
DUNCAN
Then it's time we started your education.
Duncan takes a small vial from her breast pocket, and pours a black, oily liquid onto the table.
It rolls, like quicksilver, almost alive, spreading to a circle about the size of a dinner plate.
DUNCAN
This is stage one, as far as I've ever got.
She rolls up her sleeve, and slips her hand into the flat plate, plunging it down as far as the elbow.
Ryan checks under the table.
There is only smooth wood.
RYAN
Bloody hell.
He double checks.
Still only smooth wood.
RYAN
So you think this is what Murray does? He actually puts himself inside mirrors?
Duncan pulls her hand out of the black pool. It comes out completely dry.
DUNCAN
No. He does something else. Somehow he projects his consciousness into his mirror image.
Ryan prods at the black pool with one of the white plastic knives. The knife slides all the way in.
Suddenly frightened, he lets go.
The knife disappears from view into the blackness.
DUNCAN
(dryly)
I wouldn't advise going after it. A couple of years ago I put my hand down inside… and somebody grabbed hold and shook it.
Ryan recoils away from the table.
He stares at the black pool.
It just sits there, still, unmoving, like a lidless eye embedded in the table
RYAN
This consciousness thing? You can't do that?
DUNCAN
No. But then again, I haven't tried. Too afraid.
Ryan picks up the book.
RYAN
But that trick you just did? It tells you how to do it in here?
DUNCAN
It tells you how to start trying. It took me months of mental effort.
Ryan motions at his bandaged wounds.
RYAN
It doesn't look like I'm going anywhere fast. If you're willing to help me, I'll try anything that will lead to Murray being stopped.
Duncan sits down heavily in the chair.
DUNCAN
I was afraid you were going to ask me that.
RYAN
I won't do anything that will put you in danger
DUNCAN
(sighing)
No, but I might.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Ryan and Duncan sit at the table, a black pool of liquid between them.
RADIO PRESENTER (V.O.)
Police are still hunting for Detective Inspector Ryan, wanted for the killing of his colleague Dave Thorne, and now sensationally implicated in the brutal murders of five TV presenters over the past nine months.
Ryan has his sleeve rolled up. He thrusts his arm down at the pool of liquid…
and his hand hits the table, hard.
Ryan sucks at his newly bruised knuckles.
RYAN
(wincing)
SHIT!
Duncan grins.
DUNCAN
That used to happen to me.
Ryan nurses his hand and looks at the black pool of liquid.
RYAN
How did you get past it?
DUNCAN
I tried harder.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Ryan has several days growth of beard.
He sits alone at the table. 
It is dark outside, only a small table-lamp lighting the room.
He stares at the black pool of liquid, concentrating hard.
He lowers his hand…
And meets only wood again.
His free hand bangs the table in frustration.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
It is daylight.
Ryan and Duncan sit, both on the same side of the table. By now Ryan has a full beard.
Duncan strokes the back of Ryan's neck, but he doesn't seem to notice. 
His jaw is set, his face grim with determination.
The radio plays in the background, but is being ignored by both of them.
DUNCAN
Don't force it. It'll come.
RYAN
You're not going to give me any of that Zen bullshit are you?
DUNCAN
(mock horrified)
Zen? That wasn't Zen. Yoda that was.
Ryan finally manages to smile.
DUNCAN
(Yoda impersonation)
Softly must you go. Dangerous it is.
Ryan laughs out loud.
RYAN
Just as long as we don't find out that Murray was my father all along. Then I really -will- have to kill the bastard.
Duncan keeps stroking the back of his neck. 
Ryan leans his head against her hand, and smiles.
RYAN
It feels like I've been sitting here for days.
DUNCAN
You have. You need a rest.
RYAN
I'll rest later. Besides, I'm getting closer.
(pause)
Look.
He closes his eyes, concentrating.
When he opens them five seconds later they show grim determination.
He touches the black liquid and pushes down.
The black pool flexes, like a strong piece of rubber, and gives, his hand going in about an inch.
DUNCAN
It took me years to get even that far.
RYAN
I can't wait that long. He's still out there. And he'll kill again. He's got a taste for it.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Ryan and Duncan are drinking coffee. The black pool still sits in the centre of the table.
In the background, the radio plays.
RADIO PRESENTER (V.O.)
The funeral was held today of murdered policeman Detective Sergeant Dave Thorne.
Ryan gets up and turns up the volume.
RADIO PRESENTER (V.O.)
The tiny church in his home town of Kilbirnie was full, and a crowd of onlookers five deep stood silently outside as the eulogy was read by his friend T.V. presenter Derek Murray.
Without a word Duncan moves to the cupboard and gets out the whisky.
MURRAY (V.O.)
I didn't know Dave long, but in that short time I came to consider him my closest friend, my only friend at a time when even his superiors were putting pressure on me to confess to crimes I didn't commit. Dave was my rock in those dark days.
Duncan pours the whisky and hands Ryan a tumbler-full.
MURRAY (V.O.)
It is my deepest regret that he is not here to see me completely vindicated. And I know, like me, he'd want to see his killer brought to justice and forgive me for using this platform for making this plea;
(pause)
Someone out there is harbouring a fugitive from justice, Jack Ryan, the man who killed my friend. I just hope the police get to him before I do.
Ryan, raging, downs the whisky in one gulp.
He thrust his hand down at the black pool of liquid.
It goes in up to the elbow.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Early morning sunlight is coming through the opaque windows.
Ryan is alone in the kitchen. His beard is longer, almost shaggy
He sits at the table, a black pool of liquid in front of him.
He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and bends forward until his nose touches the pool.
Eyes still closed, he pushes his face against the surface.
It goes through.
He opens his eyes.
He is looking down at a grey featureless plain, several yards below his viewpoint.
A white plastic knife lies on the ground.
By craning his neck, he can see that, in the far distance, there are lights, more like buzzing fireflies.
Suddenly a small rectangular light races towards him, coming at some speed.
Ryan pulls back out into the kitchen, the black pool closing beneath his face as he sits up.
A car passes on the road outside.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
The room has been cleared of the table and chairs.
Ryan and Duncan stand, looking downwards.
There is a much wider pool of matt black liquid on the linoleum floor, a circle nearly two yards across.
Ryan steps towards it, footsteps heavy.
A ripple runs across the surface of the pool.
DUNCAN
Now would be a good time to call a halt if you're having second thoughts.
RYAN
No. I'm as ready as I'll ever be.
DUNCAN
Maybe we need a rope?
RYAN
Now what self respecting Jedi would use such a thing? Now, if you've got a light sabre handy….
Duncan smiles
DUNCAN
Sorry. I left it in my other jacket.
Ryan steps forward. 
Just before his foot reaches the pool, Duncan leans forward and gives him a peck on the cheek.
He looks at her quizzically.
DUNCAN
For luck.
RYAN
See you soon.
He lowers himself into the black liquid, like a child getting gingerly into a swimming pool.
He shuffles forward, reaching for the bottom… and falls face forward in a tumbling roll.
He disappears from view without a noise being heard.
The black pool closes over him without a ripple.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND - TWILIGHT
In mirror-land, it is always twilight.
THUD!
Ryan falls heavily to the ground. The impact is the only sound, otherwise all else is deathly quiet.
Ryan pushes himself upright and looks around
He is on the long empty plain he saw previously.
The ground beneath his feet is flat and featureless, made of a matt-black material like tarmac.
He bends and picks up the white plastic knife, turning it over in his hands, checking that it's real. He puts it in his trouser pocket.
Above him the "sky" is flat grey, also featureless. 
A black circle hangs suspended three feet above his head. When he moves his head he sees that the circle is impossibly thin, almost invisible when seen side on.
Far off in the distance, maybe three miles away, lights of many colours dance and flicker, but closer to hand the only break in the monotony is a column of shimmering light twenty yards away.
Ryan starts walking towards it.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE
Duncan paces around in the empty kitchen.
Her footsteps seem too loud to her.
She reaches over and turns on the radio. Music fills the room.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND - TWILIGHT
Ryan stands, a foot under a shimmering patch of blue, a rough circle some six feet across. 
He is looking up at clouds scudding across the sky above.
He reaches up to where water is rippling, expecting to be able to reach through.
His hand meets a hard surface, like touching a pane of glass.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE
The radio enters a news broadcast.
RADIO ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
New darling of the media Derek Murray was today awarded his Media Personality of the Year award in front of a star-studded crowd in the Savoy hotel. We caught up with him afterwards, and asked "What now for the man who has everything?"
Duncan leans against the sink unit, listening.
MURRAY (V.O.)
Not quite everything. As you know, I've devoted my life to my career in the service of the public. Now I'd like some -me- time. There's a woman out there that I've been neglecting, but now I intend to spend some quality time with her
(pause)
Liz, if you're listening, I'll be with you soon. That's a promise.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND - TWILIGHT
Ryan stands under the black pool and takes a last look around.
RYAN
(whispers)
I'm coming for you, you bastard.
He jumps up, catching the rim of the black circle, and hauls himself up.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE
Ryan hauls himself up into the kitchen. The black pool closes seamlessly behind him.
He hands Duncan the white plastic knife.
RYAN
I'm ready.
The radio lies, broken into pieces at Duncan's feet.
The woman has been crying, but now her eyes are hard and bright.
DUNCAN
So am I.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Ryan stands in front of the large mirror that had been turned to the wall. 
He reaches over and grabs the opposite edges before turning back to talk to Duncan
RYAN
Are you sure about this?
Duncan nods.
DUNCAN
Everywhere I've been, if there's been a mirror, he's been able to find me. He'll come. He won't be able to stop himself.
Ryan turns the mirror around.
The two of them stare at their reflections.
RYAN
Now what?
DUNCAN
Now we wait.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
Ryan stands in front of the mirror, finishing the final strokes of shaving off the beard.
RYAN
Two days… I'd have expected him before now.
Duncan stands on the other side of the room, watching him
DUNCAN
He'll be here. Sooner or later, he always comes.
Ryan dries himself off as Duncan comes to stand beside him. 
She strokes his cheek, almost tenderly.
DUNCAN
Maybe we need to get his attention?
She turns Ryan round and steps into his arms, kissing him full on the lips.
Ryan pulls her close.
It is a while before they come up for air.
DUNCAN
Do you think that worked?
RYAN
Oh yes.
He grabs her close again.
Duncan looks over Ryan's shoulder, looking into the mirror.
The hooded figure stands in the corner, watching.
It raises the knife and waves it in the air in front of the hood.
DUNCAN
He's here.
RYAN
(whispering)
Keep him busy.
Ryan releases Duncan from the hug and moves away, towards the work surface where the knives are kept.
Duncan turns and stares straight into the mirror, straight at the hooded figure.
DUNCAN
Well, here I am. Now what?
She walks forward until she is right up against the mirror.
Behind her, Ryan has selected the largest kitchen knife. Even this has been scratched viciously to stop reflections.
DUNCAN
Come on. Now's your chance.
The hooded figure still doesn't move.
DUNCAN
That's it? You're just going to stand there and look? Shall I flash my tits? Is that what you're waiting for?
She starts to unbutton her shirt.
The hooded figure starts to come closer.
DUNCAN
(whispers)
Come to mummy.
The figure is now almost close enough to touch on the other side of the mirror.
DUNCAN
Now!
Ryan drops through the black pool.
In the mirror Duncan watches as he falls into the room, as if appearing out of the ceiling.
Duncan steps back away from the mirror. Her eyes flick away over the hooded figure's shoulder to watch Ryan.
The figure sees it, and turns, just in time to deflect Ryan's knife thrust.
The hood falls back to reveal Murray's smiling face.
Duncan watches as Ryan and Murray fight in the room beyond the mirror, knives flashing and clashing.
There is no sound.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan circles around Murray.
RYAN
Surprised to see me?
MURRAY
(smoothly)
Amazed actually. I had you down as no more than a hyperactive chimpanzee. But then again…
He doesn't complete the sentence. He lunges forward, using the knife like a dagger.
The point enters Ryan's belly, drawing a thin trickle of blood.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE
Duncan sees the blood.
DUNCAN
No!
She seizes a knife and jumps down into the black pool.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Duncan falls through, almost landing on Ryan.
She gets to her feet fast, and Murray backs away.
MURRAY
Hello darling. I always knew you were smart enough to get here someday.
He backs off.
MURRAY
Two against one eh? Or should I say, one neurotic woman and a badly trained monkey against a man in full possession of all the facts? Place your bets folks.
He laughs, and backs off further.
Duncan and Ryan follow, away from underneath the black pool, past the mirror looking into the now-empty kitchen, out towards the rippling curtain of light under the pond.
RYAN
Give up Murray. You've got nowhere to go.
MURRAY
Look around you detective. I can go anywhere I like.
DUNCAN
Not now that we know how you do it.
MURRAY
It's obvious that neither of you have thought this through properly.
Murray closes his eyes…
… and disappears.
Duncan and Ryan look at each other, astonished.
Above them, a bucket is drawn through the pond, filling it with water.
Through the ripples, a suited Murray can be seen, smiling down at them. 
He gives the now familiar little wave and moves off out of sight.
DUNCAN
The oil... Shit! Get back to the kitchen... Quick!
They turn and run.
As they get to the mirror they see Murray enter the kitchen, bucket of water raised, ready to throw it.
Ryan makes a jump for the black hole overhead.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE
Murray throws the water.
The black pool washes away over the kitchen floor.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan falls back to the ground. 
The black hole breaks up into small black fragments, like burnt paper. 
Ash falls over Ryan and Duncan's heads.
Murray stands on the other side of the mirror
He blows them a kiss, gives his little child-like wave then turns away, leaving them looking back into an empty kitchen.
Ryan and Duncan are left alone on the vast dark empty plain.
CUT TO:
INT. COUNTRY COTTAGE - LATER
The room is empty.
A puddle of water and oil and water sloshes on the floor.
In the mirror, Ryan and Duncan stare out, eyes wide.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan bends to the ground and sifts the ashes through his fingers.
He looks up.
There is only flat grey sky above them.
RYAN
Can we get back?
Duncan stares at the ashes, then up at the sky.
RYAN
(more urgently)
Can we get back?
DUNCAN
(whispering)
I don't know.
CUT TO:
INT. MURRAY'S CAR
Murray is smiling as he gets into his car and drives off at speed.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan pushes against the surface of the mirror looking into the kitchen, putting his weight into it.
It doesn't give.
He punches it, hard, and his hand bounces back as if he has hit a piece of rubber.
DUNCAN
Let me try.
Ryan moves aside.
RYAN
Be my guest.
Duncan puts her hand against the mirror.
She closes here eyes, concentrating hard.
The mirror gives, but only a fraction before bouncing back.
She tries again, with the same result.
She punches the mirror. A single ripple runs across its surface then it is still.
She starts to kick the mirror, putting everything into it, cursing in time with the kicks.
DUNCAN
Fuck, shit, pish, bastard
Ryan puts his arm around her.
RYAN
My dad was a London dock-hand. I know a couple of stronger words than that if you think they'd help?
Duncan aims one last kick at the mirror as he leads her away.
She starts to sob heavily. He holds her until it subsides.
RYAN
We'll get out. Somehow we'll get out.
She looks up at him.
DUNCAN
That's not what worries me. What worries me is him getting back in.
She falls, sobbing, into his arms.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND - LATER
Duncan finally lifts her head from Ryan's shoulder. Her eyes are red and puffy, but she has stopped crying.
DUNCAN
What now?
RYAN
I don't know. I'm a stranger her myself. But as far as I can see we have two options. We can wait here till he comes back…
DUNCAN
Which might never happen.
Ryan nods
RYAN
… which might never happen. Or we can seek him out. Do unto him before he does unto us.
Duncan looks around the featureless plain.
DUNCAN
And how do you suggest we do that?
Ryan points towards the flickering lights in the distance.
RYAN
If my bearings are right, the city is over that way. And unless I'm mistaken, what we're looking at are mirrors. Thousands of mirrors.
Duncan's mouth falls open in shock.
DUNCAN
He could be anywhere
RYAN
No. He's got his public to think about. I know where to find him.
DUNCAN
But how shall we find him in all that? I doubt if the roads we know even exist over here.
RYAN
Trust me. I'm a city copper.
He takes her hand and they start to walk across the plain.
CUT TO:
INT. MURRAY'S CAR
Murray pulls into a car park. He is still smiling broadly as he walks quickly away towards the T.V. Centre.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan and Duncan are getting closer to the dancing lights.
It is dizzying, almost confusing to the eyes, a towering maze of light coming in from every reflective surfaces.
Some are static: household mirrors, office wash-rooms.
Others are constantly on the move; car mirrors, thousands of them, swirling like a cloud of mayflies; interspersed with the large reflected panels of windows of buses and trucks.
One such panel, an eight foot shimmer showing the heads of a dozen people, heads straight for them.
They instinctively jump out of its way. It cruises past, completely silent.
They look at each other for a long second, neither speaking. Duncan finally pulls Ryan's gaze away from the far distance into which the panel of light is receding.
DUNCAN
He'll be waiting.
Ryan nods.
RYAN
I know. He's had years to figure out how this place operates.
DUNCAN
Then how do we beat him?
RYAN
He's got used to being alone. Lets see how he likes company.
Ryan points down a line of mirrors that disappear into the far distance.
RYAN
High Street. Not too far to go.
DUNCAN
How will you know where we're going?
RYAN
(laughing)
I'll look out the window.
CUT TO:
INT. DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT
Murray sits in front of the huge dressing mirror.
He has no reflection.
He steeples his fingers, closes his eyes, and concentrates.
The hooded figure, knife in hand, appears in the mirror and quickly moves off out of the room.
Murray sits in the chair in front of the mirror, as if in a trance.
CUT TO:
INT. SHOP - DAY
A YOUNG WOMAN is looking at a dressing mirror, doing a bump-and grind to herself as she checks out a sexy outfit.
Suddenly Ryan appears behind her.
He smiles, she screams.
When she turns to confront him, she is alone in the changing room.
CUT TO:
INT. SHOP - DAY
A well-dressed ELDERLY LADY is at a perfume and make-up counter, trying on some eye-shadow. She looks in a small make-up mirror…
Ryan's right eye, pressed right up against the inside, stares back at her.
CUT TO:
EXT. SHOP - DAY
A small boy plays with his reflection in the shop window. The street is reflected behind him.
The boy sticks out his tongue. Ryan appears at his shoulder and sticks out his own tongue.
The boy turns.
There is no one there.
When he turns back, there is only his own reflection.
SMALL BOY
(shouting)
Muuuuum!
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan turns away from a large shining panel that shows the street beyond.
RYAN
We're nearly there.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND - LATER

They stand beneath a tower of shifting lights.
RYAN
I'm pretty sure this is the TV centre. They broadcast the news from the fourteenth floor
Duncan looks up, and up, to the lights overhead.
DUNCAN
OK. Now what?
Ryan points at a shifting square of light that comes down towards them.
RYAN
Now we see if we can catch the lift.
The square of light descends to their level. Ryan takes her hand, and leads her towards it.
In the mirrored surface they see people getting out of the lift to a hallway beyond, then the lift doors start to close.
RYAN
Come here. Step up close.
He leads her tight up to the surface of the mirror.
RYAN
Hold on to me if you feel the need.
She grabs him tight.
The lift doors shut and they lift up into the air, as if they have nothing but wind beneath their feet.
The lift floors count upwards.
When they get to 6 the door opens.
Two businessmen stand and stare in amazement, not moving until the lift doors shut and the counters starts up again.
It goes past fourteen, stopping at fifteen.
The doors open.
RYAN
All ashore that's going ashore.
He steps away and off into space as Duncan screams.
DUNCAN
No!
Ryan stands there, as if floating on air. He stamps his foot, twice. Although there is no floor beneath him, there are two dull thuds.
RYAN
I figured there had to be at least some internal consistency of rules. Even in this place.
Behind Duncan the lift doors shut.
RYAN
Take my hand. It's OK
He reaches.
Trembling, she takes his hand and steps towards him, just as the shifting pane of light recedes down away from them.
They hang in a vast space between shimering panes of light.
Duncan pulls Ryan tight into a hug.
DUNCAN
Don't let go of me.
RYAN
Never.
He bends and kisses her gently on the lips.
Behind them, someone claps, slowly, sarcastically.
They break off the kiss and turn their heads
A hooded Murray stands there, knife in hand.
MURRAY
Bravo. It just goes to show that you can train a monkey to do just about anything.
Ryan pushes Duncan away from him.
RYAN
(to Duncan, whispering)
Find a way to get out to him… to the real world. I'll keep him busy here.
DUNCAN
I'm not leaving you.
RYAN
You have to. I can't look out for you and fight him at the same time. Help me. Get out there and distract him.
Murray claps slowly again.
MURRAY
Touching. But futile. We all know you have nowhere to go.
Ryan leaves Duncan's side and walks towards the hooded figure. 
He takes the knife from where it has been stuck inside his belt.
Murray drops the hood and leers at Duncan
MURRAY
I'll deal with your lover-boy here first, then you and I can renew our -acquaintance-. I've been kept waiting far too long. And if one hole isn't available, I'm sure I can make another.
He shows Duncan the knife and leers.
Ryan rushes Murray.
Murray dodges to one side, and, with a flourish, like a matador, makes a slicing cut across Ryan's shoulder as he passes.
MURRAY
(to Duncan)
Shall I take a trophy for you darling? An ear? Or his nose? Or is there another part you're more interested in?
Ryan rushes him again, and almost manages to get a cut of his own in, but Murray dances easily away.
The shining frame of the reflected lift arrives behind Duncan.
RYAN
(shouting)
Find him. Distract him. Anything that will give me a chance.
The lift stops.
Duncan presses at the mirror. It gives slightly, then bounces  back.
She turns back to Ryan.
DUNCAN
I can't…
Ryan rushes Murray again, but Murray dances lightly away and Ryan takes another cut, a deep one under his ribs.
Duncan sobs, turns back to the lift mirror, closes her eyes, and pushes. 
The mirror gives way around her and she emerges into the empty lift.
CUT TO:
INT. LIFT
Duncan turns.
In the mirror, Ryan is almost doubled over, clutching a bloody hand at his ribs.
Murray looks straight at her, gives her a little childish wave… and disappears.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan sees Murray go, and knows immediately where the man will be next.
He stumbles towards the lift mirror.
RYAN
(shouting)
Get moving. Get out of there.
Duncan, of course, cannot hear him.
He reaches the mirror just as she pushes the button for floor 14.
He hangs on as they go down.
The lift stops.
He bangs hard on the glass, leaving bloody handprints.
RYAN
(shouting)
Get out of there!
Duncan turns, just as the doors open behind her.
CUT TO:
INT. LIFT
Duncan sees Ryan's anguished face.
Behind that, in the reflection, the doors open.
No one shows in the mirror, but behind her Murray stands there in his too-smart suit… smiling.
Duncan sees Ryan's gaze move to a point over her shoulder.
She turns, too late.
She draws the knife, but doesn't get a chance to use it.
Murray punches her in the jaw and she goes down in a heap to the floor.
The knife clatters to the floor beside her.
Murray looks at the knife, looks up at Ryan, and smiles.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan watches Murray hit the emergency stop button on the lift.
The newsreader bends and lifts the knife.
Ryan bangs harder on the mirror. He has no effect.
Murray slams the knife deep into Duncan's chest. She jerks once, then is still.
He pulls out the knife and lets it fall to the floor.
He stands, smiles at Ryan and closes his eyes.
MURRAY
Now its your turn.
Ryan turns… The hooded figure stands behind him, knife in hand.
Ryan screams, an animal howl of rage, and attacks.
CUT TO:
INT. LIFT
Duncan's eyes flicker. They open slowly, as if it takes a great effort.
The suited figure of Murray stands over her, eyes closed, stock-still as if in a trance.
The two men fight in the glass-smeared reflection.
Duncan, bleeding badly, shuffles, painfully slowly, towards the knife
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
Ryan dives in close to avoid another slashing cut and grapples with Murray.
Beyond them, in the lift cab, Duncan's hand closes on the knife. 
She lifts it, but can't hold her grip
The hooded Murray pulls away from Ryan, sees what is going on, and starts to disappear
Ryan forces his knife up through the hooded figure's heart.
CUT TO:
INT. LIFT
Duncan finally gets hold of the knife.
She punches it up under the suited Murray's ribs.
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
The hooded Murray looks down at the knife sticking out of his chest. 
MURRAY
No! It doesn't happen this way!
Ryan sticks the knife in further.
The hooded figure crumples at Ryan's feet, then disappears completely.
Ryan leans, gasping, against the mirror. 
It is a couple of seconds before he sees Murray's body crumple to the ground, Duncan's knife sticking from it.
Duncan lies on the floor, blood oozing from her chest wound. She is pale, skin looking as thin as fine porcelain.
Straining, with the last of her effort, she reaches a bloodied hand up towards the mirror.
RYAN
(shouting)
No!
He puts his hand out to cover hers.
The mirror flexes.
He Strains, pushing harder, but he cannot push his hand through.
Blood smears, on both sides of the mirror.
DUNCAN
(mouthing silently)
I love you
RYAN
(whispers)
I love you
CUT TO:
INT. LIFT
Duncan's hand falls away. Her eyes go to a cold, dead stare.
Ryan stands on the other side of the glass, screaming silently
CUT TO:
EXT. MIRROR-LAND
RYAN
(shouting)
No!
Ryan backs away, horrified.
The lift descends, heading down and away from Ryan
He is left alone in the dark tower of dimly lit mirrors.
RYAN
(screams)
No!
FADE TO:
INT. INTERVIEW ROOM - NIGHT
SUPER ONE YEAR LATER
Two cops are interviewing a cocky suspect.
DETECTIVE 1
Come on Jim. Cough it up.
DETECTIVE 2
You know you're going to have to talk to us sooner or later.
PERP
I don't have to tell you anything. I know my rights.
DETECTIVE 1
What about the rights of that little girl you killed? What about her rights?
The perp merely smirks.
DETECTIVE 2
Let's give him some time alone to think about it guv?
Detective 2 nods towards the blackened mirror.
Detective 1 smiles to himself.
DETECTIVE 1
Good idea. Maybe he'll come to his senses after he's had a long look at himself.
The detectives rise and make for the door.
DETECTIVE 1
Did you hear that Jim? Have a long hard look at yourself. We'll be back to see if you've reconsidered.
The perp smirks as the detectives leave.
He waves his hand at the mirror and can just see the reflection there from where he is seated.
He stands for a better look.
His reflection in the tempered glass stares back…
FLASH CUT
Ryan stands at his shoulder, knife raised.
FADE OUT.

***END OF FEATURE***