The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)
      
Directed by Anthony Minghella
      
Written by Anthony Minghella
      
Based on the novel by Patricia Highsmith
      
1st November 1999

   
Matt Damon ........................,....... Tom Ripley
Gwyneth Paltrow ....................... Marge Sherwood
Jude Law ............................ Dickie Greenleaf
Cate Blanchett ........................ Meredith Logue
Philip Seymour Hoffman ..............,.. Freddie Miles
Jack Davenport .................. Peter Smith-Kingsley
James Rebhorn ...................... Herbert Greenleaf
Sergio Rubini ..................... Inspector Roverini
Philip Baker Hall .................... Alvin MacCarron
   
   
   
Lullaby for Cain 
   
From the silence from the night comes a distant lullabye
Cry, remembering that first cry 
Your brother standing by and loved 
both loved beloved sons of mine sing a lullabye 
mother is close by innocent eyes such innocent eyes 
Envy stole your brother's life came home 
murdered peace of mind 
Left you nightmares on the pillow sleep now 
Soul, surrendering your soul the heart of you 
Not whole for love but love what toll 
Cast into the dark branded with the mark of shame of Cain 
From the garden of God's light to a wilderness of light 
Sleep now sleep now.
   
   
   
     PROLOGUE:  INT. RIPLEY'S CABIN. EVENING.

     Fade up on Ripley, as in the final scene of the film, sitting, 
     desolate in a ship's cabin. The camera rotates around his 
     face, which begins in light and ends in darkness.

                           RIPLEY (O/S)
               If I could just go back.  If I could 
               rub everything out.  Starting with 
               myself.  Starting with borrowing a 
               jacket.

     EXT. CENTRAL PARK WEST TERRACE. EARLY EVENING.

     Ripley is at the piano, accompanying FRAN, a young soprano.

     CREDITS begin.

                           FRAN (SINGS)
               Ah, such fleeting paradise such 
               innocent delight to love, be loved, 
               a lullabye, then silence.

     The song finishes.  Applause.  They're the entertainment at 
     a cocktail party to celebrate a silver wedding anniversary.

     Some partygoers congratulate Fran on her performance. A 
     distinguished looking man, pushing his wife in a wheelchair, 
     approaches Ripley, offers his hand.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Most enjoyable. Herbert Greenleaf.

                           RIPLEY
               Tom Ripley. Thank you, sir.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
                    (pointing at Ripley's 
                    borrowed jacket)
               I see you were at Princeton.  Then 
               you'll most likely know our son, 
               Dick. Dickie Greenleaf...

                           EMILY GREENLEAF
               We couldn't help noticing your jacket.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Yes.

                           EMILY GREENLEAF
               Class of '56?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                             p. 2


                           RIPLEY
                    (hesitating)
               How is Dickie?

     INT. ELEVATOR OPENING OUT INTO LOBBY. EARLY EVENING.

     Fran, Ripley, Mr and Mrs Greenleaf and others emerge from an 
     elevator. Emily talks to Fran, Herbert to Ripley.

                           EMILY GREENLEAF
                    (to Fran)
               I hope you'll come and see us...

                           FRAN
               That's very kind.

                           EMILY GREENLEAF
               Both of you...

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Of course, Dickie's idea of music is 
               Jazz. He has a saxophone.  To my ear 
               Jazz is just noise, just an insolent 
               noise.

     EXT. CENTRAL PARK WEST. EARLY EVENING.

     Ripley shakes hands with Herbert Greenleaf as he gets into 
     his Rolls Royce. They are making an appointment. Ripley 
     crosses the street to Fran, pecks her cheek. She hands him 
     his share of their fee.

                           RIPLEY
               Gotta run. I'm so late.
                    (he hands Fran's 
                    boyfriend the jacket 
                    he's been wearing)
               Thanks for the jacket.

                           BOYFRIEND
               Sure.  Thanks for filling in for me.

     From Greenleaf's point of view he sees a couple embracing.

                           EMILY GREENLEAF
               Darling couple, aren't they?

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Yes.  An exceptional young man.

     From another vantage point Ripley hurries on as Fran gets 
     into her boyfriend's car. A piano quartet starts up.

     EXT. THEATER. EVENING.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

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                                                             p. 3


     Ripley runs past the droves of arriving concert-goers and 
     heads for the theater. Music continues.

     INT. MEN'S ROOM, THEATER. NIGHT.

     The interval: A thick mass of men in tuxedoes grooming 
     themselves at the basins. Ripley turns on faucets, offers 
     towels, brushes off dandruff. Men talk over, round, and 
     through him.  Put coins in a bowl.

     INT. A BOX AT THE THEATER. NIGHT

     The concert continues. Ripley peers through the curtain at 
     the performances.  A haughty woman in the box turns round 
     and he closes the curtain.

     INT. BACKSTAGE. 1:30 A.M.

     An empty auditorium. Ripley plays Bach in the blue ghostlight.  
     A caretaker emerges from his rounds, flips on the house 
     lights.  Ripley jerks up from his playing, waves 
     apologetically.

                           RIPLEY
               Sorry, sorry.  I know.  Sorry.

     EXT. GREENLEAF SHIPYARDS, BROOKLYN. DAY.

     Greenleaf and Ripley walk through one of the drydocks.  A 
     huge void in the shape of a boat, swarming with workers 
     preparing the shell of a new liner.  If Central Park is where 
     the money is spent, this is clearly where it's made.  And a 
     lot of it. Workers nod deferentially to the man with his 
     name over the buildings behind them.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Mongibello. Tiny place. South of 
               Naples.  Marge, his uh, the young 
               lady is supposedly writing some kind 
               of book. God knows what he does. By 
               all accounts they spend the whole 
               time on the beach. Or his sailboat. 
               That's my son's talent, spending his 
               allowance.

     Ripley, in his green corduroy jacket the very model of a 
     sober young man, listens attentively.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF (CONT'D)
               Could you ever conceive of going to 
               Italy, Tom, persuade my son to come 
               home?
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

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                                                             p. 4


                           HERBERT GREENLEAF (CONT'D)
                    (Ripley looks doubtful)
               I'd pay you.  I'd pay you 1000 
               dollars.

                           RIPLEY
               I've always wanted to go to Europe, 
               sir, but...

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Good. Now you can go for a reason.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT, NEW YORK. DAY.

     A vinyl RECORD revolves in close up.  An exuberant and 
     mysterious VOICE is scat singing. Wild. Then the sound slides 
     into a raucous big band jazz number:  Dizzy Gillespie's The 
     Champ. A HAND ejects the record. When the camera finds the 
     man's face it is BLINDFOLDED. He's hot. He's wearing an 
     undershirt. He's trying to identify the recording.

                           RIPLEY
               I don't know. Count Basie?  Duke 
               Ellington. I don't know. Count Basie.

     The man pulls off the blindfold, examines the record cover 
     of the disc he's been trying to learn, needs to put on glasses 
     to do so, is irritated by his mistake. He ejects the record.

     A pile of other jazz records are strewn across a cluttered 
     table which includes classical sheet music and a paper 
     keyboard. One hand idly mimes at the keys.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY.

     Another song for Ripley to identify is on the gramophone.

     Chet Baker's My Funny Valentine.  Signs everywhere of packing. 
     A suitcase. Books about Italy.  Ripley paces in this BASEMENT 
     room, which is bathroom, kitchen, living room and bedroom 
     all in one.  Tiny, tidy, squalid and sad. The windows give 
     onto bars and a wall.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Don't even know if this is a man or 
               a woman.

     There's a violent row going on in the room above his head. 
     He flinches.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY.

     Ripley, shining his shoes, packing almost done, is testing 
     himself on another piece of music. Free jazz saxophone:

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                             p. 5


     Charlie Parker's Koko.  He listens hard, recognizes the track.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               That's Charlie Parker. Bird.

     He skips over to the gramophone, checks the record. He's 
     right, he smiles.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY.

     Ripley studies an old photograph of Dickie Greenleaf in a 
     Princeton Yearbook. He shoves the book in a bag, picks up 
     his suitcase and takes a last look around the dingy apartment 
     before closing the door behind him.

     EXT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY.

     Ripley hauls his luggage up the stairs and into the sunlight.

     He is met at the top of the stairs by Mr Greenleaf's 
     chauffeur.

                           CHAUFFEUR
               Here.  I'll take that.

                           RIPLEY
               Thanks.

                           CHAUFFEUR
                    (nodding towards the 
                    apartment)
               That thousand bucks should come in 
               handy.

                           RIPLEY
               Yes, sir.

                           CHAUFFEUR
                    (interupts Ripley, 
                    who is about to open 
                    the car door)
               I'll get that.

                           RIPLEY
               Thanks.

                           CHAUFFEUR
                    (as he holds open the 
                    door for Ripley)
               Sir.
                    (Ripley laughs 
                    excitedly)
               You're gonna have a great trip.
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                             p. 6


                           CHAUFFEUR (CONT'D)
               Mr Greenleaf is personal friends 
               with the Cunard people.

     INT. HERBERT GREENLEAF'S CAR. DAY.

     Ripley luxuriates in the back of the Greenleaf limousine. He 
     opens up an envelope he's carrying with Greenleaf stationery.

     Inside a First Class Cunard Ticket, some traveler's checks 
     and dollars.

                           CHAUFFEUR (CONT'D)
               I can tell you.  The Greenleaf name 
               opens a lot of doors.

     EXT. QUEEN MARY, MANHATTAN SKYLINE. DAY.

     The liner leaves New York en route to Italy.  END CREDITS.

     INT. NAPLES HARBOR, CUSTOMS & IMMIGRATION HALL. DAY.

     ITALY. Brilliant sunshine. The Queen Mary has just docked.

     Passengers can be seen disembarking through the huge windows.

     Coming from the First Class gangways they are greeted, 
     escorted, fussed over into the hall.  Their bags have been 
     unloaded ahead of them, and are now being sorted in the hall 
     under the initials of their owners.  STANDS WITH THE LETTERS 
     OF THE ALPHABET CHALKED ON THEM are dotted about, and trunks 
     and suitcases of all shapes and sizes form small hills around 
     them. Ripley enters and an Italian Porter approaches, wants 
     his name.  Ripley. Ripley. Ripley! he repeats in the hubbub 
     and joins the crowd around the letter R.  A striking young 
     woman (MEREDITH) is nearby. She notices him.

     Ripley proceeds to the Customs area, where he's held in a 
     line as a large suitcase is opened and searched. Meredith 
     catches up with him. Her luggage a mountain next to his.

                           MEREDITH
               What's your secret?

                           RIPLEY
               Excuse me?

                           MEREDITH
               No, it's just - you are American, 
               aren't you? - no, I just, I have so 
               much luggage, and you're so, uh, 
               streamlined.  It's humiliating.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                             p. 7


     Ripley shrugs.  Now they're opening a second case of the 
     passenger ahead.  Hard not to converse.

                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               I'm Meredith, by the way. Meredith 
               Randall.

                           RIPLEY
               Dickie, Dickie Greenleaf. Hello.

                           MEREDITH
               Hello.

     They are passed through immigration, head down the long stairs 
     towards the street.  Meredith catches up with Ripley.

                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               You're not the Shipping Greenleaf's?

                           RIPLEY
                    (thinking quickly)
               Trying not to be. Trying to jump 
               ship.

                           MEREDITH
               So now, did they put your suitcase 
               in the wrong pile? It's just - 
               upstairs - weren't you under the R 
               stand? I thought I saw you there.

                           RIPLEY
               My father wants me in New York. He 
               builds boats. I'd rather sail them.  
               I travel under my mother's name.

                           MEREDITH
               Which is?

                           RIPLEY
               Emily.
                    (Meredith's bewildered)
               Just kidding.

                           MEREDITH
               The funny thing is, I'm not Randall 
               either. I'm Logue.

                           RIPLEY
                    (nods, recognizing 
                    the name)
               As in the...?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                             p. 8


                           MEREDITH
               As in the Textile Logues. Trying to 
               shrug off the dress. I travel under 
               my mother's name, too.

                           RIPLEY
               Randall.

                           MEREDITH
               Right.

     They've arrived at a crossroads on the stairs - graphic signs 
     explain the choices: one way for Buses, Taxis and exits -the 
     other for Trains: ROMA, VENEZIA, MILANO.  They're going in 
     different directions.

                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
                    (offering her hand)
               So - partners in disguise.
                    (looks at the signs)
               Bye.

     EXT. COASTAL ROAD FROM NAPLES. LATE AFTERNOON.

     A BUS rolls around a coastal road cut into the side of a 
     cliff, mountain above, blue sea below.

     INT. BUS. LATE AFTERNOON.

     Ripley sits surrounded by teeming life. The bus slows at a 
     new town. People get off.

     INT/EXTERIOR. BUS ARRIVES MONGIBELLO. LATE DAY.

     Later, the day ending. Ripley looks out as they continue on 
     their journey. Arriving at a small fishing port they wind 
     down through a square, passing the local church.

     EXT. MONGIBELLO, FISHERMAN'S WHARF. LATE DAY.

     And then the bus is in the heart of a wharf. On one side 
     there's evidence of the fisherman's life, nets, old men 
     working. Opposite there's a tiny cafe spilling out onto the 
     street, young guys hang out, play table football, lounge on 
     their Vespas. The Driver chants -

                           DRIVER
               MONGIBELLO!

     Ripley gets out, lugging his cases, as the bus continues on 
     its way. He looks around him. He feels completely foreign.

     EXT. MIRAMARE HOTEL/BOAT AT SEA. MORNING.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                             p. 9


     A SAILBOAT has slid into his view, now drops anchor, drops 
     the sail.  A couple dive off and swim towards shore.

     ALL OF THIS IS FROM THE POINT OF VIEW OF RIPLEY, who's 
     watching the events through binoculars from his tiny balcony 
     in the Miramare Hotel. An Italian Vocabulary Book is perched 
     on his knees and, during this, he continues his study, 
     mouthing the Italian words.

                           RIPLEY
                    (looking at a long, 
                    lean girl about to 
                    dive)
               La fidanzata a una faccia.  The fiance 
               has a face.  La fidanzata e Marge.

     Her partner, DICKIE GREENLEAF, dives too. They're brown, 
     beautiful, perfect. Ripley notices the name of the boat:

     "BIRD".

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Questo e la mia faccia.....

     The golden couple emerge from the sea. Dickie shakes off the 
     water, grins.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               This is my face.

     He double-checks himself with the vocabulary book.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Questa...e la mia faccia. Questa e 
               la faccia di Dickie.

     EXT. MONGIBELLO. DAY.

     Ripley emerges from one of the beach cabins, and stands on 
     the edge of the sand on a wooden walkway. He's wearing A 
     TINY LIME-GREEN BATHING SUIT. He loathes beaches. A couple 
     of boys turn laconically and watch him.

     Ripley puts on his shoes and scurries to the sea. He feels 
     ridiculous, his skin alabaster against the brown bodies.

     Finally, the shame is too great and he pulls off his shoes 
     and dashes to the water, where he luxuriates in the coolness 
     of it before wading out of the sea, and walking straight up 
     to Dickie.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Dickie Greenleaf?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 10


     Dickie squints at Ripley, who holds his shoes, lamely.

                           DICKIE
               Who's this?

                           RIPLEY
               It's Tom. Tom Ripley. We were at 
               Princeton together.

                           DICKIE
               Okay.
                    (he sits up)
               And did we know each other?

                           RIPLEY
               Well, I knew you, so I suppose you 
               must have known me.

                           DICKIE
                    (to Marge)
               Princeton is like a fog, America's 
               like a fog.
                    (to Ripley)
               This is Marge Sherwood. Tom - sorry, 
               what was it?

                           RIPLEY
               Ripley. Hullo. How do you do.

                           MARGE
               How do you do.

                           DICKIE
               What are you doing in Mongi?

                           RIPLEY
               Nothing. Nothing much. Passing 
               through.

                           DICKIE
                    (finds this idea absurd)
               Passing through! You're so white. 
               Did you ever see a guy so white, 
               Marge?  Gray, actually.

                           RIPLEY
               It's just an undercoat.
                    (Marge laughs)

                           DICKIE
               Say again?

                           RIPLEY
               You know, a primer.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 11


                           DICKIE
               That's funny.

     He shares some intimacy with Marge, makes her laugh.  Ripley 
     stands as they wrestle around him. Marge looks up.

                           MARGE
               You should come and have lunch with 
               us, before you go - Dickie?

                           DICKIE
               Sure.  Any time.

                           MARGE
               And be careful in the sun. Your gray's 
               in danger of turning a little pink.

                           RIPLEY
               Thanks. Well, a coincidence.

     EXT. MONGIBELLO. EARLY MORNING.

     ANOTHER DAY.  Church Bells ringing. Dickie, dressed in shorts, 
     comes bumping up the cobbled path towards the square on his 
     MOTORSCOOTER. He stops by a steep flight of steps.

     RIPLEY, a book in hand, unseen, walking up a hill, catches 
     all this and, intrigued, watches as a young Italian beauty, 
     SILVANA, has a spikey, flirtatious exchange with Dickie, 
     then climbs on the scooter, behind him.

                           DICKIE
               I've been looking for you everywhere.

                           SILVANA
               Ah, today you're looking for me.  
               And where have you been the rest of 
               the week?  Pig.  With your American 
               girl?  I hate you, you know?

                           DICKIE
               What?

                           SILVANA
               I hate you.

     And RIPLEY watches them as they rattle down the hill towards 
     the sea.

     EXT. MARGE'S HOUSE. AFTERNOON.

     Dickie appears in Marge's garden, the sea behind his head.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 12


     Marge is sitting at her outside table surrounded by some of 
     the remnants of lunch.  Dickie's sheepish, showered, late.

                           DICKIE
               Sorry, sorry, sorry. I know, I'm 
               late, I'm a swine.

                           MARGE
               Did you forget where I live? It's 
               four o'clock.

                           DICKIE
               I just woke up.  I'm sorry.

                           MARGE
               You just woke up!

                           DICKIE
               Fausto and I - we took the boat out, 
               we were fishing, and then it was 
               dawn and we'd caught absolutely 
               nothing.

                           MARGE
               Well, we ate everything without you.

                           DICKIE
               We?

                           MARGE
               Yes, Tom Ripley's here.

     As Ripley appears with the tray to collect more dishes.

                           DICKIE
               Who? Oh, Tom, hello, how are you? We 
               thought you'd disappeared. We were 
               going to send out a search party.

                           RIPLEY
               No, still here.

                           MARGE
               Tom was telling me about his trip 
               over.  Made me laugh so much I got a 
               nosebleed.

                           DICKIE
               Is that good?

                           MARGE
               Shut up!

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 13


     Marge flicks him with a napkin. They start to wrestle, 
     excluding Tom.

                           RIPLEY
               I'm intruding.

                           DICKIE
               Can you mix a martini?

                           RIPLEY
                    (hesitant)
               Sure.

                           MARGE
                    (going inside)
               I'll do it. I make a fabulous martini.

                           DICKIE
               Everybody should have one talent.
                    (to Ripley)
               What's yours?

                           RIPLEY
                    (without a beat)
               Forging signatures. Telling lies.  
               Impersonating practically anybody.

                           DICKIE
                    (enjoying this banter)
               That's three. Nobody should have 
               more than one talent. Okay, do an 
               impression.

                           RIPLEY
               Now?  Okay.  Wait a minute.  Talent -
                    (his voice ages, his 
                    face changes)
               The only talent my son has is for 
               cashing his allowance.

                           DICKIE
                    (absolutely thrown)
               What? What's this?

                           RIPLEY
               I like to sail, believe me, I love 
               to sail! Instead I make boats and 
               other people sail them.

                           DICKIE
                    (incredibly impressed)
               Stop! It's too much!  You're making 
               all the hairs on my neck stand up!

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 14


                           RIPLEY
                    (relishing it)
               Jazz, let's face it, it's just an 
               insolent noise.

                           DICKIE
               I feel like he's here. Horrible. 
               Like the old bastard is here right 
               now!  That's brilliant!  How do you 
               know him?

                           RIPLEY
               I met him in New York.

                           DICKIE
               Marge! You've got to hear this!

                           MARGE
                    (returning with the 
                    drinks)
               What?  What?

                           DICKIE
               Meet my father, Herbert Richard 
               Greenleaf 1st.

                           RIPLEY
               Pleasure to meet you, Dickie's made 
               a fine catch. I know Emily thinks 
               so.

                           MARGE
               What's going on?

                           DICKIE
               Uncanny!

                           MARGE
               I don't get it.

                           RIPLEY
               Could you ever conceive of going 
               there, Tom, and bringing him back?

                           DICKIE
               What?

                           RIPLEY
               I'd pay you. If you would go to Italy 
               and persuade my son to come home. 
               I'd pay you $1000.

     INT/EXT. MONGIBELLO CHURCH AND SQUARE. DUSK.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 15


     A christening is over and now the whole village is pouring 
     out of Church for the Passeggiata in Sunday best. Girls arm 
     in arm parade. Boys arm in arm evaluate. New babies are 
     compared and fussed over. Old people smoke, talk, shrug.

     Dickie is walking with Ripley, seething about his father's 
     scheming.

                           DICKIE
               I'm never going back. To actually 
               hire somebody to come all the way 
               here to drag me back home - got to 
               be insane, hasn't he?

     SILVANA comes out of church arm in arm with a man, her 
     fiancee, as part of a foursome which includes Dickie's pal 
     FAUSTO. Silvana's eyes flick towards Dickie, otherwise there's 
     no acknowledgement as they all greet each other.

     Dickie introduces Tom, then they move on.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               I'm never going back!

                           RIPLEY
               No, I think your mother, her illness -

                           DICKIE
               It's got nothing to do with my mother!  
               She's had leukemia for - ! This is 
               what makes me boil about him! HE 
               wants me back!  - it's got nothing 
               to do with my mother.

                           RIPLEY
               I don't know, Dickie, I'm just telling 
               you what I -

                           DICKIE
                    (interrupting)
               Go back!  Go back to New York or 
               call him if you can find a telephone 
               that works, and tell him wild horses 
               wouldn't drag me back to him or his 
               shipyard.

     EXT. DICKIE'S HOUSE, MONGIBELLO. AFTERNOON.

     Ripley appears, with his meagre luggage at Dickie's front 
     door. He's carrying his tote bag under his arm, the bottom 
     of which seems to be unstitched and held together only by 
     his fingers. Marge is on the terrace, she looks down to see 
     Tom talking with Dickie.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 16


                           MARGE
               Hi Tom.

                           DICKIE
                    (looks up)
               Marge, Ripley's saying goodbye.

                           MARGE
               I'll come down.

                           DICKIE
                    (to Ripley)
               Did you speak to my father?

                           RIPLEY
               You were right about the telephones.  
               There are no lines, there's some 
               problem.

                           MARGE
                    (coming out of the 
                    front door)
               Hello Tom. You're off? What are your 
               plans?

                           RIPLEY
               Back, I suppose, slowly as I can.

     He goes to shake her hand and as he releases the tote bag 
     the seam splits and records spill to the ground, scattering. 
     He bends down, starts gathering them up. Marge helps.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Oh, damn, sorry, this bag's -

     Dickie's delighted when he sees the Jazz titles.

                           DICKIE
               You like jazz!

                           RIPLEY
                    (gathering up the 
                    records)
               I love jazz.

                           DICKIE
                    (holding up a Chet 
                    Baker)
               This is the best. Marge says she 
               likes jazz, but she things Glenn 
               Miller is jazz.

                           MARGE
               I never said that!

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 17


                           RIPLEY
               Bird. That's jazz.

                           DICKIE
               Bird! Ask me the name of my sailboat -

                           RIPLEY
               I don't know. What's the name of 
               your sailboat?

                           DICKIE
               Bird!

                           MARGE
               Which is ridiculous. Boats are female, 
               everyone knows you can't call a boat 
               after a man.

                           RIPLEY
               He's not a man, he's a god.

                           DICKIE
                    (excited)
               Okay, we're going to Naples. There's 
               a club, it's not a club, it's a 
               cellar.

                           MARGE
               It's vile.

                           DICKIE
               Yes, it's vile. Don't worry, you 
               don't have to come.
                    (to Ripley)
               It's great.  You're going to love 
               it.

     INT. JAZZ CLUB, NAPLES. NIGHT.

     A cavern blue with smoke. A surprisingly good QUINTET blast 
     out their version of MOANIN'. Dickie and Ripley arrive and 
     make their way to a table where Fausto is sitting with 
     friends. It's too noisy for conversation, but Dickie shouts 
     introductions and they shake Ripley's hand.  Dickie is 
     instantly absorbed in the music, Ripley absorbed in Dickie.

     An attractive Italian Girl, DAHLIA, comes over, kisses Dickie, 
     pulls off his hat, puts it on, there's no room for her to 
     sit, so she sits on Dickie's lap, smoking his cigarette.  
     Dickie raises his eyebrow at Tom, but it's clearly no 
     hardship. Then the band strikes up the intro to Tu vuo' fa' 
     L'Americano - a hit which reflects the current craze for all 
     things American - and Fausto pulls a protesting Dickie up 
     onto the stage.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 18


                           FAUSTO
                    (improvising in Italian)
               Ladies and Gentlemen. Dickie 
               Greenleaf, all the way from America... 
               etc.

     Fausto starts to sing. Dickie joins in the chorus. Everybody 
     claps. Dickie talks off-mic to Fausto.

                           FAUSTO (CONT'D)
               And a big round of applause for a 
               new friend from New York - Tom Ripley!

     Ripley's mortified, but Dickie jumps off the stage and pulls 
     him up.  The song continues and now, at the chorus, it's 
     Dickie and Ripley who have to sing. Ripley, of course, can 
     sing well, if not confident in this arena. Soon the audience 
     is clapping, standing on tables, dancing, Dahlia prominent.

                           DICKIE (O/S)
                    (reading)
               I have bumped into an old friend 
               from Princeton - a fellow named Tom 
               Ripley.  He says he's going to haunt 
               me until I agree to come back to New 
               York with him...

     INT. DICKIE'S HOUSE. NOON.

     Dickie, in his new dressing gown, is sitting at the table, 
     typing.  Ripley's head emerges from behind the couch on which 
     he has been enjoying a blissful sleep.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
                    (grins)
               Good afternoon!

                           RIPLEY
               What time is it?
                    (puts on his glasses 
                    and checks his watch)
               Oh God!  Do you always type your 
               letters?
                    (points at the letter)
               That should be two Ts.

                           DICKIE
               I can't write and I can't spell.  
               That's the privilege of a first-class 
               education.  You're upstairs at the 
               back. I think Ermelinda made the bed 
               up.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 19


                           RIPLEY
               This is so good of you.

                           DICKIE
               Don't say it again. Now that you're 
               a Double Agent and we're going to 
               string my Dad alone, I was thinking 
               we might buy a little car with the 
               expense money he's sending you. What 
               do you think, Marge...a little 
               Cinquecento with my Dad's money?

     Marge has appeared, carrying Camparis.

                           MARGE
               Dickie, you can't even drive a car!  
               No, what we need urgently is an 
               icebox. What do you think, Tom? Agree 
               with me and I'll be your friend for 
               life.

                           RIPLEY
               I absolutely agree with Marge.

     INT. DICKIE'S HOUSE, UPSTAIRS. DAY.

     Ripley locates his room, puts down his luggage in what is a 
     comfortable and simple room, then heads back downstairs only 
     to be tempted by the open door of Dickie's bedroom.

     INT. DICKIE'S BEDROOM. DAY.

     Ripley explores the casual elegance of Dickie's bedroom - 
     the Louis Vuitton chest, the closet's open door spilling out 
     shirts, ties. On the dressing table there are toiletries, 
     cufflinks scattered, a silk tie.  Ripley picks up the tie 
     and walks towards the open window below which is a terrace 
     where lunch is being laid. Marge and Dickie are chatting. 
     Shreds of conversation float up to Ripley.

                           DICKIE
               It'll just be for a little while.  
               He can be... he makes me laugh.

                           MARGE
               Okay, darling.

                           DICKIE
               You'd say if you mind?

                           MARGE
               No, I like him.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 20


                           DICKIE
               Marge, you like everybody.

                           MARGE
               I don't like you.

                           DICKIE
               Then I'll go to your place and you 
               can move in with Tom.

     Above them, Ripley repeats these phrases, carefully, testing 
     the cadences, No, I like him. Marge, you like everybody, 
     until he's as accurate as a taperecorder.

     EXT. TERRACE OF DICKIE'S HOUSE. DAY.

     Ermelinda is clearing away lunch. Ripley is changed and 
     sitting at the table with Marge while Dickie works on the 
     coffee. Ripley watches him, studying everything: the way he 
     uses the expresso machine, the way he wears no socks, his 
     pants, his rings.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               Now you know why Miss Sherwood always 
               shows up for breakfast.  It's not 
               love it's the coffee machine.

                           MARGE
               It's the one task Dickie can do on 
               his own - make coffee.

                           DICKIE
               Shut up.

                           MARGE
               Oh darling - is that for me?

                           DICKIE
               No it's for Tom as he didn't complain.

                           RIPLEY
                    (as Dickie hands him 
                    his cup)
               That ring's so great. The green one.

                           MARGE
                    (delighted)
               Tom, I love you!
                    (to Dickie)
               See!
                    (to Ripley)
               I bought it for him, for his birthday.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 21


                           RIPLEY
               It's superb.

                           DICKIE
               I had to promise, capital P, never 
               to take it off - otherwise I'd give 
               it to you.

                           MARGE
                    (flicking a crumb at 
                    him)
               Bastard!
                    (to Ripley)
               Isn't it great, Tom? I found it in 
               Naples.  I bargained for about two 
               weeks.

                           DICKIE
               I hope it wasn't cheap.

                           MARGE
               Oh, it was.

                           RIPLEY
                    (to Marge)
               I have to find a birthday present 
               for Frances. Perhaps you can help 
               me?

                           MARGE
               Frances?

                           RIPLEY
               My fiancé.

                           DICKIE
               You're a dark horse, Ripley. Engaged?

                           RIPLEY
               Your parents met her.

                           DICKIE
               Oh God - I can just imagine - if 
               only Dickie would settle down... 
               doesn't every parent deserve a 
               grandchild?  Never! I swear on your 
               ring, Marge.  I am never going back.

     EXT. BIRD SAILBOAT. DAY.

     The Bird is sailing off the coast of Mongibello. There's a 
     manoeuvre going on with the sail.  Captain Dickie supervises 
     his crew of Marge and a painfully awkward anxious-to-please 
     Ripley.  Dickie goes over to help him.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 22


                           RIPLEY
               I'm doing this wrong, aren't I?

                           DICKIE
               You're doing great. We'll make a 
               sailor of you yet. You're doing really 
               well.

                           MARGE
               Dubious but special honor, Tom - 
               crewing Dickie's boat.  Alright, 
               bar's open.

                           DICKIE
               Yes please!

     She heads for the cabin. Dickie settles down beside Ripley.

                           RIPLEY
               Could we sail to Venice?

                           DICKIE
               Sure.  I love Venice.

                           RIPLEY
               I have to go to Venice.

                           DICKIE
               See Venice and die, isn't that right?  
               Or is it Rome? You do something and 
               die, don't you?  Okay, Venice is on 
               the list.

                           RIPLEY
               And Rome.

                           DICKIE
               Do you ski?
                    (Ripley frowns)
               Don't tell me - you're a lost cause!  
               That's the next thing to deal with. 
               We're planning to go to Cortina at 
               Christmas.  Excellent skiing. 
               Excellent.
                    (as Marge reappears)
               Marge - Ripley can't ski.  We'll 
               have to teach him that, too. Have 
               you ever known such low class?

                           MARGE
               Poor Tom.  Good thing we're not 
               getting married. We might have to 
               invite him on our honeymoon.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 23


     EXT. MONGIBELLO. LATE DAY.

     Marge and Ripley are on a shopping expedition. They walk 
     down the hill towards the grocery shop, next to the bar in 
     the little square. Ripley has asked Marge how she and Dickie 
     met.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               Oh I hated New York - that Park Avenue 
               crowd - so I fled to Paris to work 
               on my book, and I was always going 
               to this cafe with Jean-Jacques, and 
               Dickie used to play his saxophone 
               outside and I would see him and he 
               would see me, and he would play My 
               Funny Valentine. It was only later 
               that I realised he only knows about 
               six songs.

     They've arrived at the Grocery Store. Alessandra, the woman 
     who owns the store greets them.  Silvana, who's her daughter, 
     is also there, and less comfortable. She waits for Marge's 
     order.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
                    (to Silvana, in Italian)
               Buono Sera, Silvana. Por favore: 
               arance e pane, e del prosciutto.

                           SILVANA
               E fichi?  Come sempre?

                           MARGE
               Si.  Come sempre.  Grazie.

     Silvana goes inside for the meat and bread. Marge frowns.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
                    (back to Ripley)
               Anyway, then one day, we go in, I 
               see Dickie, he starts playing My 
               Funny Valentine, and then all of a 
               sudden he just walks into the cafe, 
               right in front of Jean-Jacques, and 
               grabs me! Now I had never spoken to 
               him in my life - he said I'm going 
               to Italy, tomorrow, and I want you 
               to come with me. So I did.

     At the edge of the square there's A BOCCE AREA, where men 
     throw metal balls along a track, aiming to get closest to a 
     small cue.  Dickie is there, playing intensely with Fausto 
     and two other guys, one of whom we've seen before with 
     Silvana.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 24


     Ripley and Marge loop back towards home, taking in the Bocce 
     en route. Dickie waves. They wave back. Marge calls to him.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               If you're not at my place by 7.00, 
               Tom and I are running off together.

                           DICKIE
               Okay.

     EXT. MARGE'S HOUSE. EARLY EVENING.

     Dickie and Ripley are leaving.  They're fooling around.

     Dickie jumps on Ripley's shoulders. Marge watches from the 
     top of the garden.

     EXT. MONGIBELLO SQUARE. EARLY EVENING.

     Dickie and Ripley, still horsing about, pass Silvana's grocery 
     store.  Dickie dismounts, goes over to Silvana, who's tense, 
     a little troubled. They huddle, Ripley isolated.

                           SILVANA
               Did you get my message?  I want to 
               talk to you.

                           DICKIE
               I want to talk to you too...Smile 
               for me.

     And Dickie's already gone, back to Ripley feinting to box 
     him then dancing, satyr-like, down the hill.

     EXT. COASTAL ROAD TO NAPLES. EVENING.

     Dickie and Ripley on the Vespa. There's a steep incline where 
     the road winds down towards Naples and, as the Vespa gains 
     speed, Ripley is happy to cling to Dickie.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               You're breaking my ribs!

                           RIPLEY
               What?

                           DICKIE
               You're breaking my ribs!

     INT. JAZZ CLUB, NAPLES. NIGHT.

     Ripley's really singing, carrying the burden of My Funny 
     Valentine in a flawless imitation of Chet Baker. Dickie is 
     playing some sax. After a verse, there's spontaneous applause.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 25


     Dickie, impressed beams at Ripley.

     INT. DICKIE'S HOUSE. NIGHT.

     A NEW ICEBOX, incongruous in pride of place in the living 
     room, casts its glow on a delighted Dickie as he pulls out a 
     couple of beers, handing one to Ripley who is paging through 
     his copy of the Collected Works of Shakespeare.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               I could fuck this icebox I love it 
               so much.
                    (considering Ripley)
               What were you actually doing in New 
               York?

                           RIPLEY
               I played piano in a few places.

                           DICKIE
               That's one job, you told me a lot of 
               jobs.

                           RIPLEY
               A few places - that's a few jobs. 
               Anyway, I don't want to think about 
               New York.

                           DICKIE
               The mysterious Mr Ripley. Marge and 
               I spend hours speculating.
                    (drinking)
               Cold beer. Thank you Dad.

                           RIPLEY
               Copy out from here...

     He hands the book to Dickie, pointing out the lines.

                           DICKIE
                    (staring to write on 
                    the back of a postcard)
               I love the fact you brought 
               Shakespeare with you and no clothes.  
               Ermelinda says you wash the same 
               shirt out every night.  Is that true?

                           RIPLEY
               No! I've got more than one shirt!

                           DICKIE
               She can do that stuff for you.
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 26


                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               Anyway, just wear some of my things, 
               wear anything you want, most of it's 
               ancient.
                    (he's finished writing)

                           RIPLEY
               Now your signature.
                    (watching him write)
               Not "Dickie". Your signature.

     Dickie writes his signature at the bottom of the postcard.

     Ripley studies the writing, takes off his glasses to clean 
     them. Dickie looks at him.

                           DICKIE
               Without the glasses you're not even 
               ugly.
                    (takes them, tries 
                    them on)
               I don't need them because I never 
               read.  How do I look.

                           RIPLEY
               Like Clark Kent.
                    (takes them back, 
                    puts them on beaming 
                    at Dickie)
               Now Superman.

     Dickie cuffs him.  Ripley looks down at the postcard.

                           DICKIE
               I know. I write like a child.

                           RIPLEY
               Pretty vile. See this: The S and the 
               T, do you see? - fine, vulnerable - 
               that's pain, that's secret pain.

                           DICKIE
               It must be a deep secret, cause I 
               don't know about it.

                           RIPLEY
               Your handwriting - nothing more naked.  
               See - nothing's quite touching the 
               line - that's vanity.

                           DICKIE
                    (flattered)
               Well we certainly know that's true.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 27


     INT. DICKIE'S BATHROOM. NIGHT.

     Dickie's in the bath. Ripley, dressed, sits on the stool 
     next to the bath. They're in the middle of playing chess, 
     the board propped on the bath tray.  Ripley puts his hand in 
     the water, checking the temperature.  He turns on the faucet 
     for a burst of hot. Ripley is absurdly happy.  He pours some 
     wine.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               Do you have any brothers?

                           RIPLEY
               No, no brothers, no sisters.

                           DICKIE
               Me neither. Nor does Marge. All only 
               children - what does that mean?

     He looks at Ripley who looks at him, a little too long.

                           RIPLEY
               Means we never shared a bath.  I'm 
               cold. Can I get in?

                           DICKIE
               No!

                           RIPLEY
               I didn't mean with you in it.

                           DICKIE
                    (standing)
               Okay, you get in. I'm like a prune 
               anyway.

     He gets out, walks past Ripley, who doesn't turn around. But 
     Dickie's reflected in the mirror. Ripley looks, then Dickie 
     turns, holds his look momentarily before flicking him with 
     his towel.

     INT/EXT. AMERICAN EXPRESS OFFICE, NAPLES. DAY.

     An OFFICIAL is studying Dickie's passport photograph. It's 
     not a recent picture. The official looks suspicious. Dickie 
     is used to it.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               It is me. It's an old picture.
                    (sighs at Ripley)
               Every time - 'is it you?  Doesn't 
               look like you'.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 28


     He's signing for his allowance. He has a smart document case 
     with his initials prominently embossed.  Ripley watches him 
     sign and collect a large wad of notes.

                           CLERK
               Letters - Greenleaf, and for Ripley.

     Ripley collects and studies his mail. As they walk outside 
     he holds up one letter to Dickie.

                           RIPLEY
               Fran.
                    (anticipating her 
                    letter)
               I miss you, where are you coming 
               home?  Stop telling me what a great 
               time you're having, how you love 
               Dickie... and Marge and...
                    (the next letter)
               And this one, I think, is your dad...

     INT. TRAIN TO ROME. DAY.

     Ripley sits reading the LETTER from Herbert Greenleaf.  He 
     frowns, stops reading, looks out of the window.

                           DICKIE
               What does he say?

                           RIPLEY
               He's getting impatient. He wants me 
               to reassure him you'll be home by 
               Thanksgiving.

                           DICKIE
               You've got to get a new jacket. 
               Really.  You must be sick of the 
               same clothes. I'm sick of seeing you 
               in them.

                           RIPLEY
               I can't. I can't keep spending your 
               father's money.

                           DICKIE
               I love how responsible you are. My 
               Dad should make you Chief Accountant 
               or something.  Let me buy you a 
               jacket.  There's a great place when 
               we get to Rome, Batistoni.

     Ripley loves this idea and mouths the word, "Batistoni".

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 29


                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               Andiamo a Roma.  We're taking Tom to 
               Roma!

     EXT. ARCARI'S CAFE, PIAZZA NAVONA, ROME. DAY.

     Ripley and Dickie sit outside at a Cafe in the Piazza Navona.

     Very smart, very sophisticated, very young crowd.  There are 
     already several empty coffee cups and a half empty bottle of 
     Frascati.  Ripley has his guide book out and is incredibly 
     impatient.  Dickie, meanwhile, has stretched out for the 
     duration.

                           RIPLEY
               Where do we find a carozza for the 
               Forum, or can we hire any of them-?

                           DICKIE
               Relax.

                           RIPLEY
               It's just there's so much to do in a 
               single day.

                           DICKIE
               Relax. The most important question 
               is where to eat. I hope Freddie made 
               a reservation.

                           RIPLEY
               Freddie?

                           DICKIE
               Freddie Miles.  You know - he's 
               organizing the Cortina skiing trip.

     Ripley hates the idea of having this special day invaded. A 
     horn makes him look up as FREDDIE MILES illegally parks his 
     open top sports car opposite the cafe, sees Dickie and bustles 
     over.  He's a heavy-set American with a reddish crewcut. 
     Ripley finds him disgusting to look at. Dickie is delighted.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               Frederico!

                           FREDDIE
               Ciao bello.
                    (noticing a beautiful 
                    woman in an open-
                    topped car)
               Don't you want to fuck every woman 
               you see.  Just once.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 30


     They kiss cheeks, continental-style.

                           DICKIE
               This is Tom Ripley. Freddie Miles.

                           FREDDIE
                    (mugging)
               Hey, if I'm late, think what her 
               husband's saying!

     He fills Dickie's glass with wine and drinks it standing up.

                           FREDDIE (CONT'D)
               So let's go. I got us a table outside 
               at Fabrizio's.

     And Dickie's up, leaving Ripley to pick up all the tiny checks 
     to work out the bill and pay it.

                           DICKIE
               I'll tell you - I am so cabin-crazy 
               with Mongi.

     Freddie and Dickie link arms Italian-style and cross the 
     street to Freddie's car.

                           FREDDIE
               I know.  I was there.
                    (looks back to see 
                    Ripley struggling to 
                    settle the check)
               Tommy!  It's S.R.O.  Two seater.  
               Standing Room Only.  Chop, chop, 
               Tommy!

     Ripley, abandoned, goes over. There's no room in the car. He 
     has to crouch in the rear.

                           FREDDIE (CONT'D)
               You're going to have to sit between 
               us.  But don't put your shoes on the 
               seat, know what I mean, put them one 
               on top of the other.  Okay?

     INT. A JAZZ RECORD STORE. LATE AFTERNOON.

     This record store is hidden away down a cobbled alley, and 
     stuffed with the trendiest Romans, all of whom rifle the 
     stacks under a fog of cigarette smoke.  There are two 
     LISTENING BOOTHS, one of which has Freddie and Dickie crammed 
     into it, sharing a set of headphones.  Ripley stands outside 
     the booth, holding both of their jackets like a manservant, 
     while inside and behind the glass doors they chat animatedly.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 31


     He looks longingly at the street, where the light is fading.

     Dickie catches his hangdog expression and pushes open the 
     accordion doors.

                           DICKIE
               Look, Tom, we've got to go to a club 
               and meet some friends of Freddie's. 
               The best thing is - if you want to 
               be a tourist - grab a cab and we can 
               meet up at the railway station.

                           RIPLEY
                    (absolutely crestfallen)
               What club?

                           DICKIE
               Freddie's arranged it with some of 
               the skiing crowd. Come if you want 
               but I thought you wanted to see the 
               Forum...?

                           RIPLEY
               I did. And then maybe get the jacket 
               and what have you...

                           FREDDIE
                    (from inside the booth)
               Dick - you've got to hear this!

                           DICKIE
                    (oblivious to Ripley's 
                    pain)
               Listen, just take one of mine when 
               we get back. Don't worry about it.  
               I did the Forum with Marge and, 
               frankly, once is enough in anyone's 
               life.

     Ripley hands him the coats, turns away.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               Ciao.  Have fun.

     Ripley heads for the door, then comes back, raps on the booth.  
     Dickie pushes it open.

                           RIPLEY
               You said to make sure you didn't 
               miss the train. It leaves at eight.

     EXT. THE CAPITOL. LATE AFTERNOON.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 32


     Ripley hikes up Michelangelo's Arcoeli Steps. Then he's 
     looking down from the Campodoglio at the Forum below. Then 
     he's walking by the oversized fragments of the Colossus. 
     This is the real Ripley, the lover of beauty, inspired by 
     art, by antiquity. He's awed. He's cold. He so much wishes 
     he weren't alone.

     INT. ROME RAILWAY STATION. NIGHT.

     It's past eight, Ripley stands, one foot on the guard step 
     of the Naples train, waiting forlornly for Dickie, then giving 
     up as the train pulls away.  He pulls the door to his 
     compartment closed, and sits inside the train alone.

     INT. DICKIE'S BEDROOM. NIGHT.

     There's music playing, Bing Crosby's "May I". Very loud.

     Ripley dances to the mirror, SPECTACLES ABANDONED and DRESSED 
     AS DICKIE IN HIS TUXEDO, MINUS TROUSERS.  He adjusts his 
     hair, catches one of Dickie's expressions.  There are clothes 
     abandoned everywhere.  He's been having a big dressing-up 
     session. He sings along with Bing.

                           DICKIE
               What are you doing?

     Ripley turns, horrified, to see Dickie standing in the 
     doorway.  The music thumps away.

                           RIPLEY
               Oh - just amusing myself.  Sorry, 
               Dickie.
                    (pause)
               I didn't think you were coming back.

     Dickie turns off the record player.

                           DICKIE
               I wish you'd get out of my clothes.

     Ripley starts undressing, his fingers clumsy with 
     mortification and shock.  Dickie looks at his feet, shakes 
     his head.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               Shoes too?

                           RIPLEY
                    (lame, ashamed)
               You said I could pick out a jacket 
               and I just... Sorry.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 33


                           DICKIE
               Get undressed in your own room, would 
               you?

                           RIPLEY
               I thought you'd missed the train.

                           DICKIE
               Freddie drove me back in his car.

                           RIPLEY
                    (horrified)
               Is Freddie here?

                           DICKIE
               He's downstairs.

                           RIPLEY
               I was just fooling around. Don't say 
               anything. Sorry.

     Dickie lets him leave and then sits amongst the debris of 
     the dressing-up session, not amused.

     EXT. DICKIE'S TERRACE. DAY.

     Ripley comes down, apprehensive, to find Marge and Dickie 
     and Freddie having a jolly breakfast on the terrace. Dickie 
     looks perfectly happy.

                           MARGE
               Hi, Tom.  Come join us.

                           FREDDIE
               I want this job of yours, Tommy.  I 
               was just saying - You live in Italy, 
               sleep in Dickie's house, eat Dickie's 
               food, wear his clothes, and his father 
               picks up the tab. If you get bored, 
               let me know, I'll do it!

     EXT. THE OCEAN, ABOARD THE BIRD. DAY.

     The boat is drifting.  Freddie and Dickie and Marge are 
     swimming, then Marge climbs back onto the boat, where Ripley 
     is sitting alone, reading.

                           MARGE
               You really should go in, it's 
               marvelous.

                           RIPLEY
               I'm fine.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 34


     She approaches him, conscious of his isolation. She's in a 
     red bikini, and she towels herself dry as they speak.

                           MARGE
               Are you okay?

                           RIPLEY
               Sure.

     They watch Dickie and Freddie fooling around in the water.

                           MARGE
               The thing with Dickie - it's like 
               the sun shines on you and it's 
               glorious, then he forgets you and 
               it's very very cold.

                           RIPLEY
               So I'm learning.

                           MARGE
               He's not even aware of it.  When 
               you've got his attention you feel 
               like you're the only person in the 
               world. That's why everybody loves 
               him. Other times...

     There's a yell from Dickie as Freddie wrestles with him.

                           DICKIE
                    (laughing and choking)
               He's drowning me!

                           MARGE
               It's always the same whenever someone 
               new comes into his life - Freddie, 
               Fausto, Peter Smith-Kingsley - he's 
               wonderful - did you meet him, he's a 
               musician? - ... and especially you, 
               of course... and that's only the 
               boys.

     They watch as Freddie pushes Dickie under the surface.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               Tell me, why is it when men play 
               they always play at killing each 
               other...?  I'm sorry about Cortina 
               by the way.

                           RIPLEY
               What about Cortina?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 35


                           MARGE
               Didn't Dick say? - he talked to 
               Freddie... apparently it's not going 
               to work out -
                    (Ripley's devastated, 
                    Marge notices, can't 
                    look at him)
               Freddie says there aren't enough 
               rooms.

     EXT. OCEAN, ABOARD THE BIRD. DUSK.

     LATER and now the boat is sailing again. Ripley is sitting 
     in his spot. Dickie and Freddie are at the tiller.

                           DICKIE
               Come on, Frederico, do you really 
               have to go back?  At least stick 
               around for the Festival of the 
               Madonna.

                           FREDDIE
               I don't think so. Come back with me 
               to Rome. There's this great new club.  
               Have some drinks, lotta ladies...

     Marge, still in her bikini, disappears into the cabin. Dickie 
     makes a face at Freddie.

                           DICKIE
               Do you think you can steer this thing?

                           FREDDIE
               Sure.

                           DICKIE
               Just point her at Capri and avoid 
               the rocks.

                           FREDDIE
               What are you doing?

                           DICKIE
               Marge-maintenance.

                           FREDDIE
               Aye, aye.

     Dickie heads towards the cabin. Freddie takes over the tiller. 
     There's a breeze and the sailboat cuts through the water.

     From where Ripley sits he can see Capri in the distance, but 
     he can also look down into the cabin, its porthole offering 
     him a restricted view.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 36


     He looks down and there's a flash of flesh, then nothing.  
     Then as the boat swings with the waves, he glimpses the bikini 
     top flung over a chair, and then Marge's bare foot kicking 
     out rhythmically, the red-painted toes straining.  Ripley's 
     mesmerized, aroused, and absolutely betrayed.

                           FREDDIE (CONT'D)
               Tommy - How's the peeping? Come on 
               Tommy, you were looking.  Tommy Tommy 
               Tommy.

     Shamed, Ripley looks away. He stares at the water, parting 
     before the boat, its turmoil reflecting his.

     EXT. DICKIE'S MOORING. DAY.

     The Bird returns to the mooring by Dickie's House.  Dickie 
     as ever Captain of the Ship, clambering around, shouting 
     instructions, with Ripley, Marge and Freddie as crew.  Ripley 
     looks back at shore. Silvana stands watching, staring.

     Dickie notices her too.

     EXT. MONGIBELLO SLIPWAY. LATE DAY.

     A WOMAN'S HEAD suddenly breaks the surface of the water.

     It's a statue of the Virgin Mary, life size, adorned with 
     flowers and a lace veil.  As she is revealed, wooden, staring, 
     four men emerge, lifting the statue on a palette, wading 
     towards the shore, the Madonna aloft on their shoulders.

     The whole town of Mongibello is in attendance for this Annual 
     Festival of the Madonna del Mare, either standing in their 
     fishing boats, or on shore and flanking the Parish Priest 
     and altar boys and incense. RIPLEY, DICKIE and MARGE watch 
     from Dickie's terrace.  There are hymns and, as the statue 
     is carried to the shore, the men's heads barely above the 
     waves, the congregation applauds at the illusion that the 
     Madonna is walking on water.

     Suddenly ANOTHER HEAD appears on the surface of the water, 
     about fifty yards from the statue. There's a scream from 
     among the crowd as someone notices the body. It's SILVANA.

     One of the MEN carrying the statue turns first towards the 
     direction of the scream and then towards the floating corpse.

     It's Silvana's fiancee, and in a second he has let go of the 
     palette, CAUSING IT TO TOPPLE, and - in absolute grief - 
     wades, swims, splashes towards the body.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 37


     PANDEMONIUM in the crowd, which breaks up, with other people 
     splashing, fully clothed, into the water. From the terrace, 
     Ripley turns and looks at Dickie, catching his eye.

     EXT. DICKIE'S TERRACE. LATE DAY.

     Marge and Ripley and Dickie watch from the terrace as below 
     them an AMBULANCE takes away the body. It seems as if the 
     whole town looks on - fiancee, parents, brothers, sisters, 
     police, priest, etc. As the corpse is loaded into the vehicle 
     A BRIEF SCUFFLE occurs between Silvana's fiancee and her 
     brother. They are pulled apart. Then the ambulance pulls 
     away.

                           RIPLEY
               What's the fight about?  That's her 
               fiancé isn't it?  Are they blaming 
               him?

                           DICKIE
                    (sharp)
               I don't know! Why are you asking me?
                    (agitated)
               How can it take an hour to find an 
               ambulance?

                           MARGE
                    (conciliatory)
               Well, she was already dead, darling, 
               wasn't she, so I suppose -

                           DICKIE
               I don't know why people say this 
               country's civilised. It isn't. It's 
               fucking primitive.

     And with that HE KICKS OUT VIOLENTLY AT A CHAIR SUPPORTING 
     THE RECORDPLAYER.  Records, machine, chair go flying across 
     the terrace. Dickie storms inside.

                           MARGE
               Dickie!

                           RIPLEY
               I'll go and see what's the matter.

                           MARGE
               I'll go.

     INT. DICKIE'S HOUSE. LATE AFTERNOON.

     Later, Dickie is slumped in an armchair at the open window 
     overlooking the slipway. He's playing sax. A forlorn, keening 
     phrase from YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS. Ripley appears,

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 38


     begins tidying the mess in the living room.  He picks up 
     empty bottles, an abandoned bikini top.

                           RIPLEY
               I know why you're upset.
                    (Dickie continues 
                    playing)
               I know about Silvana, Dickie. About 
               you and Silvana.

     Dickie stops playing.

                           DICKIE
               What about us?

     He now has an armful of dishes and glasses and bottles.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
                    (losing his temper)
               You don't have to clean up! Really!

     Ripley disappears into the kitchen.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
                    (as Ripley returns)
               She was pregnant. Did you know that? 
               Do you know what that means in a 
               place like this?

                           RIPLEY
               I'm prepared to take the blame.

                           DICKIE
               What are you talking about?

                           RIPLEY
               You've been so good to me. You're 
               the brother I never had. I'm the 
               brother you never had.

                           DICKIE
               She came to me for help, she needed 
               money, and I didn't help her. I didn't 
               help her. Now she's dead and it's my 
               fault.

                           RIPLEY
               I'm not going to say anything - to 
               Marge, or anybody, the police - It's 
               a secret between us and I'll keep 
               it.

     And he disappears again, leaving Dickie to resume the sax, 
     somehow in thrall to Ripley.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 39


                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Dear Tom, I think the time has come 
               to discontinue your expense checks...

     EXT. AMERICAN EXPRESS, NAPLES. DAY.

     Ripley and Dickie are walking out of the American Express 
     Office, Dickie pushing the rest of his money into his case, 
     Ripley - despondent - reading aloud extracts from a letter

     FROM HERBERT GREENLEAF -

                           RIPLEY
               ...The thousand dollars, of course, 
               was only due in the event that you 
               succeeded in bringing Dickie home.  
               Naturally, I hope the trip has 
               afforded you some pleasure despite 
               the failure of its main objective 
               you need no longer consider yourself 
               obligated to us in any way...

                           DICKIE
               You can't blame him.  You could hardly 
               expect this to go on forever.

                           RIPLEY
               I thought you might write again. Now 
               that we're brothers...

                           DICKIE
               I can't, how can I, in all decency? 
               We've had a good run, haven't we?

                           RIPLEY
                    (increasingly miserable)
               What about Venice? Can we stick to 
               that plan at least?

                           DICKIE
               I don't think so, Tom.  You can't 
               stay on here without money.  It's 
               time we all moved on.  Besides I'm 
               sick of Mongi.  Especially now with 
               everything - I really want to move 
               to the North. I need to check out 
               San Remo next week, find somewhere 
               new to keep the boat.  But it would 
               be great, though, if you came with 
               me.  Our last trip before you leave. 
               There's a jazz festival - we could 
               say goodbye in style.  What do you 
               think?  A last trip?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 40


     INT. TRAIN TO SAN REMO. AFTERNOON.

     Dickie and Ripley travel up to San Remo. They sit next to 
     each other. Dickie's asleep. Ripley lays his head on Dickie's 
     shoulder, but as he does that, the ticket inspector announces 
     the San Remo stop, taps on the window and Dickie stirs. Then 
     Ripley plays his familiar game of studying his face in the 
     reflection of the train window, so that he can move his head 
     and see his reflection, then back and see Dickie's.  Dickie 
     suddenly catches him staring. Ripley looks away.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
                    (terse)
               Why do you do that thing - with your 
               neck? On trains you always do that 
               thing, it's so spooky.

     EXT. HOTEL TERRACE RESTAURANT, SAN REMO. NIGHT.

     Dickie and Ripley walk through the terrace of an hotel which 
     lips out towards the sea. There's a restaurant and palms and 
     a JAZZ QUINTET playing, American. Very cool. They pass the 
     band. Dickie's captivated as they head for their table. They 
     pass some girls at a table. Dickie smiles greedily.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               This is more like it. Didn't I tell 
               you San Remo was crazy!

     They're shown to a good table. Dickie watches the band while 
     their glasses are filled with champagne. Ripley looks happy.

     He's got Dickie all to himself.

                           RIPLEY
               To Mongibello and the happiest days 
               of my life.

                           DICKIE
               To Mongi.  You're cheerful tonight.

                           RIPLEY
               I'm suddenly quite happy to be going 
               back.

                           DICKIE
               That's good.

                           RIPLEY
               I've got plans!

                           DICKIE
               Ripley's plans.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 41


                           RIPLEY
               Esatto. I'm always planning.

                           DICKIE
               Did I know you at Princeton, Tom? I 
               didn't, did I?

                           RIPLEY
               Why are you asking all of a sudden?

                           DICKIE
               No reason. Because you're leaving, I 
               guess. I don't think you were there, 
               were you?

                           RIPLEY
               Why?

                           DICKIE
               I mean it as a compliment. You've 
               got such great taste, I don't know. 
               Most of the thugs at Princeton had 
               tasted everything and had no taste. 
               Used to say, the cream of America: 
               rich and thick.  Freddie's the perfect 
               example.

                           RIPLEY
               Then I'll take it as a compliment.

                           DICKIE
               I knew it! I had a bet with Marge!

                           RIPLEY
                    (a beat)
               Ha.

                           DICKIE
               Do you even like jazz - or was that 
               something for my benefit?

                           RIPLEY
                    (conceding, without 
                    guile)
               I've gotten to like it. I've gotten 
               to like everything about the way you 
               live.  It's one big love affair. If 
               you knew my life back home in New 
               York...

     Dickie's distracted by the drummer who's playing an extrovert 
     solo, doesn't hear the confession of love.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 42


                           DICKIE
               I'm thinking of giving up the sax, 
               what do you think about drums?

                           RIPLEY
               What?

                           DICKIE
               So cool.

     He mimes a high-hat and snare. Ripley can't quite credit 
     this it's superficiality.

     EXT. MID OCEAN. DAY.

     The bay of San Remo. DICKIE and RIPLEY have hired a motor 
     boat.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               That's how I found my place in Mongi.  
               Took a boat out round the bay.  The 
               first place I liked, I got it.

     The motor boat is ploughing the waves. Dickie exhilarated by 
     the speed.

                           RIPLEY
               Dickie, slow down, come on!

     Ripley grips the oar, his knuckles white. Dickie cuts the 
     motor, and the boat slows to a crawl, miles from the shore.

                           DICKIE
                    (ecstatic)
               I love it here! Gonna live here!

     Dickie takes off his jacket, then drums against the edge of 
     the boat, developing a rhythm with his lighter and fingers, 
     already on the way to becoming Buddy Rich.

                           RIPLEY
               I wanted to tell you my plan.

                           DICKIE
               So tell me.

                           RIPLEY
               I thought I might come back. In the 
               New Year. Under my own steam.

                           DICKIE
                    (suddenly tight)
               Really?  To Italy?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 43


                           RIPLEY
               Of course. Let's say, for argument's 
               sake, you were here - perhaps we 
               could split the rent on a house - 
               I'll get a job - or, better still, I 
               could get a place in Rome and when 
               we're there we could be there and if 
               we're here we could be here -

                           DICKIE
               Oh God, I don't think so.

                           RIPLEY
               - you see, particularly with the 
               Marge problem, you can just blame 
               me.

                           DICKIE
               Marge and I are getting married.

                           RIPLEY
                    (appalled)
               How?

                           DICKIE
               How?

                           RIPLEY
               Yesterday you're ogling girls on the 
               terrace, today you're getting married.  
               It's absurd.

                           DICKIE
               I love Marge.

                           RIPLEY
               You love me and you're not marrying 
               me.

                           DICKIE
                    (cold)
               Tom, I don't love you.

                           RIPLEY
               No, no, it's not a threat, I've 
               explained all of that.

                           DICKIE
               I'm actually a little relieved you're 
               going, to be honest. I think we've 
               seen enough of each other for a while.

     Ripley stares at him, his eyes suddenly reptilian.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 44


                           RIPLEY
               What?

                           DICKIE
               You can be a leech - you know this - 
               and it's boring. You can be quite 
               boring.

                           RIPLEY
                    (volcanic)
               The funny thing - I'm not pretending 
               to be somebody else and you are. I'm 
               absolutely honest with you. I've 
               told you my feelings. But you, first 
               of all I know there's something - 
               that evening when we played chess, 
               for instance, it was obvious -

                           DICKIE
                    (incredulous)
               What evening?

                           RIPLEY
               Sure - I know, that's too dangerous 
               for you, fair enough, hey! we're 
               brothers, fine, then you do this 
               sordid thing with Marge, fucking her 
               on the boat while we all have to 
               listen, which was excruciating, 
               frankly, plus you follow your cock 
               around like a - and now you're getting 
               married! I'm bewildered, forgive 
               me...you're lying to Marge then 
               getting married to her, you're 
               knocking up Silvana, you've got to 
               play sax, you've got to play drums, 
               which is it, Dickie, what do you 
               really play?

     Dickie, furious, gets up, and lurches towards Ripley.

                           DICKIE
                    (attacking him, 
                    administering tiny 
                    slaps as punctuation 
                    to his tirade)
               Who are you - some impostor, some 
               third class mooch - who are you to 
               tell me anything?  Actually, I really 
               really really don't want to be on 
               this boat with you, I can't move 
               without you moving, which is exactly
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 45


                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               how it feels and it gives me the 
               creeps.
                    (he goes to rev up 
                    the engine)
               I can't move without - "Dickie, 
               Dickie, Dickie" - like a little girl.  
               You give me the -

     RIPLEY SMASHES HIM ACROSS THE HEAD WITH THE OAR. DICKIE SLIPS 
     OFF THE WOODEN SEAT, HIS EYES ROLLING IN GROGGY SURPRISE.

                           RIPLEY
               Shut up! Just shut up! Just shut up!

     The boat slows as Dickie releases the tiller.  Dickie looks 
     up at Ripley wearily and slides onto his back.

                           DICKIE
               For God's sake.

     Ripley, shocked at himself, goes to Dickie, rocking the boat, 
     catches him up, then is horrified to see Dickie's face, 
     apparently unmarked, SUDDENLY SPLIT OPEN, a line of blood 
     and then a peeling like a fruit bursting. Ripley's appalled.  
     A terrible roar issues from Dickie as he launches himself at 
     Ripley.

                           DICKIE (CONT'D)
               I'll kill you!

     Ripley finds himself pushing him away, picking up the oar, 
     kicking off Dickie's hand around his ankle. The boat is 
     rocking and swerving crazily as Dickie falls against the 
     tiller. Ripley almost loses his balance. His glasses come 
     off. They struggle, locked together in a life or death wrestle 
     to get control of the oar. Dickie's blinded by his own blood, 
     loses his grip.

     Ripley, terrified, hits Dickie again and again, the oar like 
     a carpet-beater banging down flat, blood on the blade, blood 
     on Ripley, until he's on his knees, heaving for breath, 
     letting his arm drop, then realizing, disgusted, that he's 
     let it rest in a pool of blood. He starts to sob, sprawls 
     there, sobbing, next to Dickie, horrified by what he's done.

     Nobody's in sight.  The boat rocks, gently, the sun sparkling 
     indifferently on the waves.  Ripley lies by Dickie in the 
     bottom of the boat, in the embrace he's always wanted.

     The pretty blue-and-white boat rocks peacefully.  The sea 
     calms.

     EXT. A COVE NEAR SAN REMO. AFTERNOON.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 46


     A deserted cove, several miles along the coast. Ripley 
     clambers onto a rock over the shore.  He's watching the boat 
     slowly sinking. Shuddering from the exertion, the cold, he 
     finds Dickie's jacket, puts it on and watches as the boat 
     disappears under the surface.

     EXT. SAN REMO. DUSK.

     Ripley walks back towards the hotel, still wearing Dickie's 
     jacket, cold and wet, his bag over his shoulder.

     INT. HOTEL LOBBY. EARLY EVENING.

     Ripley approaches the front desk.  He's shivering.  He's not 
     wearing his glasses.

                           RIPLEY
               Can I have my key, please?

                           RECEPTIONIST
                    (at the key rack)
               Of course - But you must be very 
               cold?  Signor Greenleaf?  Yes? -

                           RIPLEY
                    (mind racing)
               No, it's - I'm...

     EXT. ROAD BETWEEN NAPLES AND MONGIBELLO. DAY.

     Ripley sits on the bus as it rumbles towards Mongi.  He stares 
     out of the window, full of what he's done. No idea what to 
     do.

     EXT. MONGIBELLO, FISHERMAN'S WHARF. DAY.

     The BUS comes into town. Ripley gets out, looks calm, very 
     together.

     INT. DICKIE'S LIVING ROOM, MONGIBELLO. DAY.

     Ripley walks into the living room, slowly approaches Dickie's 
     saxophone which is on its stand on the table.  He can't get 
     close to it, it evokes Dickie too much.

     INT. DICKIE'S LIVING ROOM. DAY.

     Ripley has Dickie's Hermes Baby typewriter on the desk and 
     is busy writing letters. He has finished a letter to the 
     Greenleafs, now he's at the end of one to Marge. We can read 
     part of it - C/O American Express, Rome 9 November 1958.  
     Dear Marge, this is a difficult letter for me to write... 
     Ripley produces the Shakespeare and Signature page and COPIES 
     DICKIE'S SIGNATURE at the end of the letter.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 47


     EXT. MARGE'S GARDEN, MONGIBELLO. DAY.

     Ripley stands at the entrance to Marge's garden where she is 
     working at her book on the outside table, surrounded by 
     references and notes, held down by bricks. He looks at her 
     until she looks at him. She's startled, gasps.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Hello Marge.

                           MARGE
               Tom, you startled me!  You're back.

                           RIPLEY
               How are you? Sorry. Is your book 
               going well?

                           MARGE
               Yes - I'm on a good streak, thanks.

                           RIPLEY
               I was just looking at you -
                    (looking at her 
                    tenderly)
               - so quiet.

                           MARGE
               Where's Dickie?

                           RIPLEY
               I think he's planning on staying in 
               Rome for a few days.

                           MARGE
                    (looks at him)
               Ha. Did he say why?

                           RIPLEY
               I don't know. I don't understand 
               Dickie, Marge, so your guess is as 
               good as mine.

                           MARGE
               What does that mean?

                           RIPLEY
               Well, one day I'm invited skiing, 
               the next day I'm not, one day we're 
               all one family, the next day he wants 
               to be alone. You tell me.

                           MARGE
               Is that what he said - he wanted to 
               be alone?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 48


                           RIPLEY
               He was thinking of you, Marge - he 
               asked me to deliver this.

     He hands her a package. She pulls at it, it's perfume.

                           MARGE
               Thanks. He knows I love this, although 
               why it couldn't have waited...

                           RIPLEY
               Errand number one - deliver Marge's 
               perfume. Errand number two, pack 
               some clothes and his precious 
               saxophone.

                           MARGE
                    (alarmed)
               How long's he staying for?

                           RIPLEY
               Search me. I guess we're abandoned.

     EXT. MONGIBELLO, BEACH. EARLY MORNING.

     Marge is walking along the beach and out onto the jetty, 
     forlorn, a bleached figure on this winter morning.

     INT. OFF FROM DICKIE'S LIVING ROOM. MORNING.

     As Ripley walks down the stairs, Marge is at the icebox in 
     the living room. She's fixing herself a drink, has the icebox 
     open for ice. She's ashen, and might have been weeping, walks 
     back into the kitchen area.

                           MARGE
               There was a letter from Dickie in 
               with my perfume.  You realize it's 
               more than a few days? He's thinking 
               of moving to Rome.

     She bangs out the ice onto the counter, cubes falling 
     everywhere. Ripley drops to the floor and starts to clear 
     them up.  She's got the letter, shows it to Ripley. He puts 
     fresh ice into her glass.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               The thing is, the night before he 
               left, we talked about moving, 
               together, going North - and I suppose 
               I put some pressure on him, about 
               getting married, I just might have 
               scared him off. There's a side to
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 49


                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               him, when our heads are on the pillow, 
               I know no-one else sees it, which is 
               really tender.
                    (unravelling)
               I think I should come with you to 
               Rome and just confront him.

     Ripley lights a cigarette.  Marge loses confidence.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               He hates being confronted.

                           RIPLEY
               I think you're right.

     INT. ALBERGO GOLDONI, ROME. DAY.

     RIPLEY'S BATTERED CASES are carried into the tiny lobby of 
     this small hotel. He exchanges his passport at the desk for 
     his room key, then makes his way, carrying his own luggage 
     to the metal cage elevator. THIS SCENE INTERCUTS WITH:

     INT. HOTEL GRAND. DAY.

     DICKIE'S ARRAY OF LEATHER LUGGAGE is pulled along on a baggage 
     trolley by a liveried PORTER.

     Dickie's passport slides across the marble desk. A key comes 
     back, collected by a hand sporting Dickie's two distinctive 
     rings.  As ALDO, the Front Desk Manager, inspects the 
     passport, he looks at the owner.  Ripley wears a terrific 
     suit, his hair parted in the Greenleaf style, no glasses. 
     His voice, when he speaks, has the same, lazy, confident 
     drawl.

                           ALDO
               Welcome back, Signor Greenleaf.

                           RIPLEY
                    (walking away)
               Thank you.

     INT. RIPLEY'S SUITE, GRAND. DAY.

     The PORTER takes the cases and opens them as Ripley walks 
     around the suite. It's large and splendid. Ripley breathes 
     in its opulence.  He immediately picks up the telephone.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Yes, I'd like you to telephone the 
               Hotel Goldoni. Yes. I want to speak 
               to Signor Thomas Ripley - No Ripley, 
               R, yes.  Grazie.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 50


     He produces Dickie's pen and signs the blotter quickly - H R 
     Greenleaf.  Then he pulls out a postcard from the writing 
     case to reveal Dickie's Stars, hide your fires handwriting 
     specimen. He compares the two signatures, is pleased.

     The telephone rings.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Pronto? Signor Ripley is not there?  
               I'd like to leave a message. Yes.  
               Please call Dickie - Dickie Greenleaf - 
               at the Grand.

     INT. RIPLEY'S HOTEL ROOM, GOLDONI. DAY.

     A tiny, cell of a room, single bed. Ripley on the phone.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               He's not there?  Very well. I'll 
               leave a message - Got your call. 
               Dinner tonight sounds fine. Ripley.
                    (listens as it's read 
                    back)
               Dinner tonight, yes, is okay. Yes, 
               thank you.

     INT. GUCCI STORE, ROME. DAY.

     Ripley has bought some more LEATHER GOODS - a briefcase and 
     overnight bag. He is at the counter, signing checks.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               I'd like these to have my initials - 
               embossed, I don't know the word in 
               Italian ...embossed?

                           GUCCI ASSISTANT
               Embossed, of course, Signor Greenleaf.

     There's an excited rap on the window and a shout of DICKIE!

     Shocked, Ripley looks over to find MEREDITH LOGUE outside, 
     alone and delighted to see him.  He grins and mouths hello.

                           MEREDITH
                    (entering the shop)
               Dickie! Oh my God!  Ciao.

     EXT. ACROSS PIAZZA NAVONA TO ARCARI'S CAFE. DAY.

     Ripley and Meredith walk across the Piazza towards the cafe.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 51


                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               But you're going skiing with us 
               Yankees, aren't you?

                           RIPLEY
               What?

                           MEREDITH
               At Christmas. To Cortina with Freddie 
               Miles and -

                           RIPLEY
                    (interrupting, 
                    astonished)
               How did you know that?

                           MEREDITH
               Everybody knows Freddie Miles.

                           RIPLEY
                    (unsettled)
               Is Freddie in Rome?

                           MEREDITH
               Now? I don't think so. But I've met 
               him, of course, and we've chatted 
               and I know about you and Marge and 
               Mongi and what an unreliable rat you 
               are. Freddie said you were a rat and 
               I thought to myself now I know why 
               he travels under R.

                           RIPLEY
               I've left Marge, Meredith. And Mongi. 
               So the rat's here now, in Rome.

                           MEREDITH
               Sorry, I wouldn't have made a joke 
               if -

                           RIPLEY
               Don't be sorry. I've never been 
               happier.  I feel like I've been handed 
               a new life.

     EXT. AMERICAN EXPRESS OFFICE, ROME. DAY.

     Meredith and Ripley walk down the Spanish Steps and head 
     inside the office.

                           MEREDITH
               The truth is if you've had money 
               your entire life, even if you despise
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 52


                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               it, which we do - agreed? - you're 
               only truly comfortable around other 
               people who have it and despise it.

                           RIPLEY
               I know.

                           MEREDITH
               I've never admitted that to anyone.

     INT. AMERICAN EXPRESS OFFICE, ROME. DAY.

     Ripley's signing Dickie's allowance receipt. Meredith is 
     with him, signing her own counterfoil. He is, of course, 
     endorsed by her presence.  She goes to the window ahead of 
     him.

     She takes her money, turns to him.

     He hands over his documents. The Clerk compares Ripley's 
     signature with the one on the passport and then looks up at 
     him. Ripley is cool as a cucumber.

                           RIPLEY
               I don't want too many large bills. 
               Nobody will change them.

     INT. RIPLEY'S SUITE, GRAND. ANOTHER DAY.

     Where A TAILOR is finishing the fitting of a cashmere jacket 
     for Ripley. Bolts of cloth everywhere as Meredith adjudicates 
     the possible materials, which the tailor holds up against 
     Ripley.

                           MEREDITH
               Show me the other one again.
                    (the Tailor obliges)
               I like them both.

                           RIPLEY
               I'll take them both.

     Ripley goes inside the bedroom to change. While he's inside, 
     Meredith shows the Tailor out.  As she returns she notices 
     the open sax case, peers inside.

                           MEREDITH (O/S)
               I know you're a jazz fiend but do 
               you absolutely hate the Opera?  I've 
               been trying to give my tickets away, 
               it's tomorrow, but if you were 
               prepared to be dragged...

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 53


     She looks up to catch him bare-chested. She's intoxicated by 
     him, the romance she feels to be in the air.

                           RIPLEY
                    (emerging)
               You could drag me.

     INT. THE OPERA HOUSE, ROME.

     On stage is Act Two of Eugene Onegin.  Lensky sings his aria 
     before the duel with Onegin.

     Ripley's in a tuxedo, in a box which includes a glamorous 
     Meredith and her AUNT AND UNCLE.  He knows what comes next.

     Lensky is shot by Onegin. Blood pours from his neck into the 
     snow.  Onegin, horrified at the death of his friend, goes 
     over, wraps Lensky in his cloak, the silk lining flashing, 
     kneels holding him... Ripley can barely hide his emotion...

     Meredith watches her sensitive friend, entranced.

     INT. OUTSIDE THE BOXES, OPERA HOUSE, ROME.

     The Interval.  Ripley and Meredith exit their box with 
     Meredith's Aunt and Uncle (who heads for the interval drinks).

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Thanks so much for inviting me 
               tonight.

                           JOAN
               Can you bear it?  We hear you're a 
               friend of Freddie's - he has I hate 
               Opera tattooed on his chest.

                           RIPLEY
               There's room for a whole libretto on 
               Freddie's chest.

                           JOAN
                    (laughs)
               I'm sure we've met.

     They reach the console where Uncle Ted has their drinks.

                           JOAN (CONT'D)
               I was sure we'd met, weren't you, 
               Ted?  This is Herbert Greenleaf's 
               boy.

                           RIPLEY
               Thanks, yes, I think we did.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 54


                           JOAN
               One minute you people are children 
               and the next you're getting tattooed.

     INT. OPERA HOUSE, FOYER. NIGHT.

     Ripley heads past the Beautiful People on his hunt for the 
     Men's Room, and walks straight into a young and cultured 
     Englishman.  They greet each other and suddenly MARGE is 
     beside them.

                           MARGE
                    (as if she's seen a 
                    ghost)
               Oh my God. Tom.

                           RIPLEY
               Marge, how are you? What are you 
               doing in Rome?

                           MARGE
               Is he here? Are you with Dickie?

                           RIPLEY
               No.
                    (to Smith-Kingsley)
               Hello, I'm Tom Ripley.

                           PETER
               Peter Smith-Kingsley. I've heard 
               about you, of course - from Marge, 
               and Dickie.

                           MARGE
                    (works out what's 
                    strange)
               No glasses.

     He fishes out the glasses.

                           RIPLEY
                    (to Peter)
               Ditto.

                           PETER
               Where are you hiding him? He's 
               impossible, isn't he?

                           MARGE
               Is he really not here?

                           RIPLEY
               Marge, you know Dickie has I hate 
               Opera tattooed on his chest.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 55


                           MARGE
               You were going to Venice.

                           PETER
               Yes, what happened? I heard you were 
               desperate to come. I was looking 
               forward to rowing you around.

                           RIPLEY
               I am.  I really am. And I've been 
               travelling. I just can't seem to get 
               that far north.

                           PETER
               Well hurry, before we sink.
                    (reaches into his 
                    jacket)
               Should I give you my telephone number 
               in Venice?

                           RIPLEY
               Thanks.

     The INTERVAL BELL'S ringing. Peter hands over his card to 
     Ripley, sees Meredith.

                           PETER
               Look there's Meredith thingy - who's 
               that, Marge?  - they're in textiles...  
               Meredith -
                    (embarrassed at not 
                    remembering)
               God, how awful, I've spent Christmas 
               in her house...!

                           MARGE
               I don't know her.
                    (to Ripley)
               He hasn't called, he's hardly written, 
               just these cryptic notes. You don't 
               just dump people.

     The last INTERVAL BELL. There's a mini-stampede to return.

                           PETER
               Will we see you later?

                           RIPLEY
               I can't later.

                           PETER
               And tomorrow?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 56


                           RIPLEY
               Tomorrow's possible. Do you know 
               Dinelli's? Piazza di Spagna?

                           PETER
               I know the Piazza di Spagna. What 
               time?

                           RIPLEY
               Ten thirty?

                           PETER
               We'll be there.

                           RIPLEY
               Okay. Marge, see you tomorrow.
                    (to Peter)
               It's really good to meet you.

     INT. BOX, OPERA HOUSE. NIGHT.

     Ripley goes straight to Meredith and grabs her.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Let's go.

                           MEREDITH
               I thought you were enjoying yourself?

                           RIPLEY
               Let's take a Carozza and look at the 
               moon.

                           MEREDITH
               You're crazy! It's freezing out there.

     He's looking past her, where a mirror reflects Marge wading 
     through the audience, Peter's elegant head getting dangerously 
     near as they approach their seats.

                           RIPLEY
               C'mon, I need to talk to you. Just 
               the two of us.

                           MEREDITH
                    (quite taken)
               Okay then, you're crazy.

     EXT. CAROZZA, ROME. NIGHT.

     Meredith shivers in the raw night as they cross the Tiber.

     Ripley as Dickie is confessing his heart belongs to Marge.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 57


                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               Don't worry. Really. Don't worry.

                           RIPLEY
               You're such a pal to understand.  
               It's as if Marge is here now - I 
               look at you and I see her face - and 
               I can't, whatever I'm feeling towards 
               you - I just can't...

                           MEREDITH
               No, I absolutely understand. Of 
               course.

                           RIPLEY
               Otherwise you'd be fighting me off.

                           MEREDITH
               Beating you away.

     EXT. MEREDITH'S APARTMENT, ROME.

     They arrive at the courtyard outside Meredith's Apartment 
     Building. Ripley jumps down, collects her. She makes to go 
     inside, then looks at him.

                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               Will you meet me tomorrow?  Just to 
               say goodbye in the daylight, properly? 
               So it's not just this, it's too...you 
               should always save pain for 
               daylight...

                           RIPLEY
               Oh Meredith, I'm sorry.  Of course 
               I'll meet you. Let's have coffee in 
               the morning at Dinelli's.

                           MEREDITH
                    (fluttering)
               I don't - is that by the Spanish 
               Steps?

                           RIPLEY
               Exactly. 10.30 -
                    (instantly correcting 
                    himself)

     He gets back into the carozza. It moves off.

     EXT. DINELLI'S CAFE, PIAZZA DI SPAGNA. MORNING.

     Meredith sits waiting in a cafe at the bottom of the Spanish 
     Steps. Ripley, dressed as Ripley, is at the top of the steps,

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 58


     among early tourists, watching as she drinks her coffee at 
     an outside table.  Then Marge and Peter appear walking up 
     the Via Condotti, head for another table, don't see Meredith.  
     She acknowledges Peter who hasn't noticed her.

                           MEREDITH
               Peter? Hello, it's Meredith Logue.

                           PETER
               Of course it is, Meredith, hello, 
               I'm sorry, half-asleep, how are you? 
               This is Marge Sherwood. Meredith 
               Logue.

                           MARGE
               Hello.

     Hearing Marge's name Meredith reacts, freezes.

                           PETER
               Join us, won't you? We're just waiting 
               for a friend. Do you know, I wonder 
               did we see you at the Opera last 
               night?

                           MEREDITH
               I won't actually, although I think 
               this might - are you waiting for 
               Dickie?

                           PETER
               Well no, as it happens, although...

                           MARGE
                    (stunned at the mention 
                    of his name)
               Dickie? Do you know Dickie?

                           MEREDITH
               You were at the Opera? Well, that 
               explains - yes I was there. I was 
               there with Dickie.

                           MARGE
                    (to Peter)
               I told you! I knew it!

                           MEREDITH
                    (moving over to them)
               Marge, I don't know you, so I have 
               no right, but Dickie loves you.  
               He's - I think you'll find he's coming 
               home to you.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 59


                           MARGE
                    (proprietorial)
               How would you know that?

                           MEREDITH
               He told me everything.  I was supposed 
               to meet him fifteen minutes ago, so 
               I...I'm going to go now, I think. 
               Unless he meant us to meet - which 
               would be a little cruel, wouldn't 
               it?

                           PETER
               No, we're meeting another friend. 
               Tom Ripley.

                           MARGE
               Do you know Tom?

                           MEREDITH
               Ripley? No. I heard about him, of 
               course, but no, I didn't meet him.

     The WAITER has arrived to take orders. Meredith indicates 
     she's leaving.

                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               Not for me. No, grazie.

     Marge is on the edge. Peter lays a hand to comfort her.

                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               I hope I didn't complicate matters, 
               but nothing, nothing untoward 
               happened, nothing to prevent you 
               from welcoming him back, from marrying 
               him...Goodbye.  Goodbye Peter, please 
               don't get up.

     Peter gets up. Ripley, from his vantage point at the top of 
     the steps, watches Meredith leave and walk off into the crowd.  
     He begins the slow walk down towards the square. As he becomes 
     visible to the cafe, he starts to hurry. He's apologising to 
     Marge and Peter as they see him, in his element, lying and 
     believing in his lie.

                           RIPLEY
               Sorry, sorry. Had to renew my papers.  
               Italian bureaucracy - never one stamp 
               when they can make you line up for 
               three.  Have you been waiting long?

                           PETER
               Not at all. Morning Tom.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 60


                           RIPLEY
               Hi.
                    (to Marge)
               Sorry. You okay? You look as if you've 
               seen a ghost...

                           MARGE
               Dickie was at the Opera last night.

                           RIPLEY
               I don't believe it. Wild horses 
               wouldn't drag Dickie to -

                           MARGE
               He was there with someone. So I 
               suppose she must have dragged him - 
               that's not fair.  I'm going back to 
               Mongi. I think Dickie's coming home.
                    (to Peter)
               I'm going to go home.

                           RIPLEY
               Really? That's swell. No, I was just - 
               you're way ahead of me! Great!

                           PETER
               We think he's had a change of heart.
                    (to Marge)
               So we should be celebrating.

                           MARGE
               I hope so.

                           PETER
                    (to Marge)
               That was moving, wasn't it? When 
               Meredith said -
                    (to Ripley)
               Meredith's the American girl I saw 
               last night, I know her, at the Opera, 
               she's been seeing something of Dickie -

                           RIPLEY
               My God.

                           PETER
               But the point is Dickie - well we 
               know this - Dickie loves Marge and 
               he misses her and apparently he's 
               come to his senses...

                           RIPLEY
               It's fantastic.
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 61


                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
                    (to Peter)
               I feel guilty. Marge doesn't 
               understand this, but anytime Dickie 
               does something I feel guilty.

     INT. APARTMENT, PALAZZA GIOIA. DAY.

     Ripley is being shown an APARTMENT FOR RENT in the Palazzo 
     Gioia by a dry-witted older woman, SIGNORA BUFFI. Ripley 
     explores, relishing the decor.

                           SIGNORA BUFFI
               Accendo il riscaldamento.
                    (I'll turn the heating 
                    on.)

                           RIPLEY
                    (mimes playing sax)
               Mi piace suonare.
                    (I like to play music.)

                           SIGNORA BUFFI
                    (shrugs)
               Io sono sorda. Quelli di sotto, una 
               coppia, sono sordi. Allora, ti piace?
                    (I'm deaf. The couple 
                    below are deaf. So, 
                    do you like it?)

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. AFTERNOON.

     Ripley is in the apartment, fire burning, wearing pyjamas.

     There's a small Christmas tree. He kneels on the floor with 
     some festive, gift-wrapped packages. He opens a package. 
     It's a marble head of Hadrian. A gasp from Ripley. He picks 
     up a glass, pours himself a drink.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. LATE AFTERNOON.

     Ripley plunges into Bach's Italian Concerto on his new and 
     precious toy, a STEINWAY GRAND. His doorbell rings. He stops 
     playing. He doesn't get visitors. He rises, a little nervous.

                           RIPLEY
               Hello?

                           FREDDIE (O/S)
               Dickie?

                           RIPLEY
               Who is it?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 62


                           FREDDIE
               It's Freddie. Let me in.

     RIPLEY ALMOST COLLAPSES. He's faint.

                           FREDDIE (CONT'D)
               Dickie, come on, it's me.

     Ripley can't think what to hide, where to hide. He opens the 
     door.

                           RIPLEY
               Hello, Freddie, it's Tom, Tom Ripley.

                           FREDDIE
                    (confused, not 
                    pleasantly)
               Oh hello, where's Dickie? How are 
               you?

                           RIPLEY
               Yes, I'm good, thank you. Dickies at 
               dinner. He's at Otello's. Do you 
               know it?

                           FREDDIE
               I don't think he's at dinner at 
               6.30pm.  If you said he was still at 
               lunch I'd believe you. Incredible. 
               The guy has disappeared off the face 
               of the earth.

                           RIPLEY
               I guess.

                           FREDDIE
               The landlady - as far as I could 
               tell, the landlady said he was here 
               right now.

                           RIPLEY
               He's gone to dinner! Search the place. 
               I can't think why you would imagine 
               Dickie would hide from you.

                           FREDDIE
               Because he's been hiding from me - 
               what happened at Christmas?

                           RIPLEY
               What about Christmas?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 63


                           FREDDIE
               He was supposed to come skiing. I 
               didn't get a cable or a call or a 
               note or, frankly, a fart.

     Ripley has his hands behind his back. HE'S TUGGING FRANTICALLY 
     AT DICKIE'S RINGS. Ripley wanders into the kitchen, turns on 
     the tap to sluice his fingers.

                           RIPLEY
               Of course, he's been very involved 
               in his music, hasn't he? I think his 
               theory is, you know, you have to go 
               into a cocoon before you can become 
               a butterfly.

                           FREDDIE
               Which is horseshit.  Have you heard 
               him play that thing?
                    (gesturing at the sax 
                    on its stand)
               He can't.

                           RIPLEY
                    (casually)
               How did you find him? It's such an 
               out of the way apartment. Can I fix 
               you a drink?

                           FREDDIE
               No thanks.
                    (explaining his 
                    detective work)
               Some kid at the American Express 
               Office.
                    (he starts to explore)
               Are you living here?

     Now he starts to hammer a nasty boogie-woogie on the piano.

                           RIPLEY
                    (returning, flinching)
               No. No, I'm staying here for a few 
               days, in Rome.  That's a new piano, 
               so you prob -

                           FREDDIE
               Did this place come furnished? It 
               doesn't look like Dickie. Horrible 
               isn't it? - so bourgeois.

     Now he's poking at the Hadrian bust.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 64


                           RIPLEY
               You should watch that!

                           FREDDIE
               In fact the only thing which looks 
               like Dickie is you.

                           RIPLEY
               Hardly.

                           FREDDIE
               Have you done something to your hair?

     Ripley starts to smile, his eyes darting around the room.

                           RIPLEY
               Freddie, do you have something to 
               say?

                           FREDDIE
               What? I think I'm saying it. 
               Something's going on. He's either 
               converted to Christianity - or to 
               something else.

                           RIPLEY
               I suggest you ask Dickie that 
               yourself.  Otello's is on delle Croce, 
               just off the Corso.

                           FREDDIE
               Is it on "delle Croce, just off the 
               Corso"? You're a quick study, aren't 
               you?  Last time you didn't know your 
               ass from your elbow, now you're giving 
               me directions. That's not fair, you 
               probably do know your ass from your 
               elbow. I'll see you.

     AND HE'S GONE. Ripley shuts the door, smooths the silk runner 
     on the table where Freddie's hand had rucked it. He goes 
     back to the door, opens it and looks over the rail.

     INT. LANDING AND STAIRS, RIPLEY'S BUILDING. LATE DAY.

     FREDDIE IS BACK IN CONVERSATION WITH SIGNORA BUFFI. Ripley 
     can't make out the text but there's some discussion about 
     Signor Greenleaf and Signor Ripley. Ripley hurries inside as 
     Freddie's heavy shoes start to clump up the stairs again.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT, ROME. LATE DAY.

     Freddie knocks on the door which pushes open. As he marches 
     in, he launches into his interrogation.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 65


                           FREDDIE (CONT'D)
               Ripley? There's someth -

     - AND WALKS STRAIGHT INTO THE HEAD OF HADRIAN WHICH RIPLEY  
     SWINGS AT HIM, HOLDING ON AWKWARDLY WITH BOTH HANDS TO THE 
     HEAVY MARBLE SCULPTURE.

     Freddie falls like an ox, first to his knees, groaning, then 
     to the floor as Ripley brings the head down again, beating 
     him downwards. As Freddie slumps away, Ripley loses his 
     balance and the head sends Freddie a glancing blow before 
     slipping from Ripley's grasp and smashing on to the floor.

     THE NOSE IS CHIPPED OFF.

     EXT. PALAZZO GIOIA. NIGHT.

     It's deserted. Ripley hauls Freddie out of the shadows towards 
     the car. A couple walk across the square. Ripley talks to 
     Freddie, berating him for his drunken stupor. He pushes him 
     over the door and into the passenger seat.

                           RIPLEY
                    (mimicking Freddie's 
                    voice)
               Hey, if I'm drunk, think what her 
               husband's saying.

     EXT. VIA APPIA ANTICA. NIGHT.

     The Fiat noses along THE APPIAN WAY. Black fragments of tombs 
     punctuate either side of the poorly lit road. Inside the 
     car, Ripley looks to left and right for a place to dump the 
     body.

     He slows near a clump of trees.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT, ROME. EVENING.

     Someone is KNOCKING urgently at the door. Ripley opens it, 
     finds himself face to face with Signora Buffi and TWO 
     POLICEMEN. One of them offers his hand.

                           ROVERINI
               Dickie Greenleaf?

                           RIPLEY
               Yes?

                           ROVERINI
               Inspector Roverini. Can we come in?

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. EVENING.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 66


     Ripley sits with his head in his hands at the table. Roverini 
     and his sergeant, BAGGIO, watch patiently.

                           ROVERINI (CONT'D)
               It's a terrible shock, eh? What time 
               did Signor Miles leave yesterday?

                           RIPLEY
               I can't be absolutely sure - 8? 9?  
               We'd both taken on far too many drinks - 
               but it was dark, it was certainly 
               dark when I walked him down to his 
               car.

                           ROVERINI
               So Signor Miles drove away and you 
               did what?

                           RIPLEY
               I went to bed. Freddie's a big man, 
               but I'm in trouble after a couple of 
               drinks.  I've suffered all day. Who 
               found him?

     Roverini has walked over to the bust of Hadrian.

                           ROVERINI
               Senta.  We have to ask you to stay 
               in Rome.

                           RIPLEY
               Yes, if it's going to help, certainly.

                           ROVERINI
               So, the Doctor, he has to make the -
                    (looks at Baggio)
               - come se dice?

                           RIPLEY
               Postmortem?

                           ROVERINI
               Yes, exactly, but his first, his 
               first conclusion was that Signor 
               Miles was killed not later than seven 
               o'clock yesterday evening.

                           RIPLEY
               Well, he certainly wasn't dead when 
               he drove off in his car.

                           ROVERINI
               No.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 67


     EXT. NARROW STREET, THE GHETTO, ROME. MORNING.

     Ripley comes through a dark tunnel in the Ghetto on his 
     scooter. He drives past a furniture store, DRESSING TABLES 
     AND MIRRORS spilling out onto the street. He glances sideways, 
     sees his reflection fractured into several images and, for 
     an instant, it seems AS IF DICKIE'S THERE WATCHING HIM.  
     Ripley screams and swerves, crashing into the pavement, the 
     scooter falling onto him and pulling him along the cobbled 
     passage.  The man he thought to be Dickie, an Italian, runs 
     up concerned.

     EXT. AMERICAN EXPRESS, PIAZZA DI SPAGNA. DAY.

     Ripley emerges from the American Express Office. Across the 
     street at the cafe, as once before, sits Marge. Ripley slips 
     Dickie's bag into his knapsack as he approaches his scooter.

     Marge spots him and strides across the piazza. She is in no 
     mood for pleasantries.

                           MARGE
               Did he kill Freddie?

                           RIPLEY
               Marge, when did you get here?

                           MARGE
               Tell me the truth. Did he kill 
               Freddie?

                           RIPLEY
               I'd swear he didn't. Of course he 
               didn't.

                           MARGE
               I tried again, waiting here, watching 
               for him. Instead it's you. Whenever 
               I look for Dickie I find you.
                    (focusing on Ripley's 
                    cuts and bruises)
               What happened to your face?

                           RIPLEY
               Dickie did it.

                           MARGE
                    (suddenly tense)
               Dickie?

                           RIPLEY
               My face! There was an argument. I 
               said some things I shouldn't have.
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 68


                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               About you.  About the appalling way 
               he's treating you, all of us.  And 
               the next thing I know he's launched 
               himself at me.
                    (he pulls the scooter 
                    off the stand)
               Are you getting on?

                           MARGE
               What?

                           RIPLEY
               Get on. I'll take you to him.

     EXT. SQUARE OF THE PALAZZO GIOIA. DAY.

     Ripley and Marge come round the corner on the scooter. The 
     entrance to the Palazzo is blocked by a couple of police 
     cars.

     Inspector Roverini emerges from one of them. Ripley, startled, 
     drives straight past the entrance.

     EXT. ROME STREET, BY THE RIVER. DAY.

     Ripley pulls up several hundred yards later, in a different 
     piazza full of book stalls.  Marge is confused.

                           MARGE
               Where does Dickie live?

                           RIPLEY
               We passed it a few blocks back, where 
               the police were. The Palazzo Gioia. 
               They don't even know I'm in Rome and 
               I'm not going to incriminate Dickie -

                           MARGE
               Perhaps I shouldn't go either.

                           RIPLEY
                    (thinking hard, 
                    distracted)
               No, well go if you want to, but don't 
               talk to the Police about my face - 
               they find out he hit me - he's got a 
               temper - he could've hit Freddie.
                    (sincerely)
               Good luck, Marge. I'll catch up with 
               you later.

     And he drives off. At the first opportunity HE DOUBLES BACK 
     and roars towards the Palazzo.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 69


     EXT. SQUARE OF THE PALAZZO GIOIA. AFTERNOON.

     Ripley drives towards the entrance.  As Ripley gets off and 
     pushes his scooter through the doorway SOME JOURNALISTS, 
     LOITERING INSIDE A BARBER'S SHOP come running out and swarm 
     around him with questions about Freddie. One of them gets 
     off a photograph.  It's chaos, a Police Officer shouts him 
     away as Ripley puts up a protective hand and runs inside.

     INT. ENTRANCE AND STAIRS, PALAZZO GIOIA. CONTINUOUS.

     As Ripley hurries inside he encounters officers conducting 
     more thorough forensic investigations in the stairwell. On a 
     landing is Roverini. Ripley hurries towards him.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Can we go up? Do you mind?

                           ROVERINI
               Of course. What happened to your 
               face?

                           RIPLEY
               My scooter. I fell off. Getting chased 
               by photographers.

     He hurries up the stairs, Roverini in tow.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
                    (agitated)
               The telephone, the press, I've been, 
               I'm feeling hounded - do you think 
               you could not give out my address?

                           ROVERINI
               Never. We've had many requests and, 
               of course, we say no - even to your 
               fiancé.

                           RIPLEY
               I really don't want to see anybody.

                           ROVERINI
               Even your fiancé...?

                           RIPLEY
               Even her.

                           ROVERINI
               What about Thomas Ripley?

                           RIPLEY
               What about Ripley?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 70


     Ripley's way ahead and has reached the door of his apartment.

     He waits nervously for Roverini. He unlocks the door and can 
     barely wait for Roverini to catch up.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT. AFTERNOON.

     Roverini follows Ripley inside, Baggio hurries in behind 
     him.

                           ROVERINI
               You and Signor Ripley went to San 
               Remo, is that right?

     Ripley is appalled. He smiles.

                           RIPLEY
               Yes, sure, we did go to San Remo. 
               That was months ago.

                           ROVERINI
               November, I thought.

                           RIPLEY
               Was it? Did you speak to Tom?

                           ROVERINI
               November 7th is my information.

                           RIPLEY
               I don't remember the exact date.

                           ROVERINI
               And when did you last see Signor 
               Ripley?

                           RIPLEY
               A few days ago.

                           ROVERINI
               Does he stay with you here?

                           RIPLEY
               No!

                           ROVERINI
               No.  Here is a pattern. Two days ago 
               Freddie Miles is dead - he leaves 
               your apartment and is murdered. 
               Yesterday a little boat is found in 
               San Remo full of rocks, and the owner 
               tells the Police it was stolen on 
               November 7th. We look at hotel records
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 71


                           ROVERINI (CONT'D)
               and we see oh! Dickie Greenleaf is 
               staying in San Remo and then our 
               boatman remembers two Americans taking 
               a boat.

                           RIPLEY
               It's not a pattern, it's a 
               coincidence.  There must be fifty 
               hotels in San Remo, there must have 
               been a hundred people renting a boat 
               on that day.

                           ROVERINI
               31 people.

                           RIPLEY
               31 people.

     Baggio appears. Speaks to Roverini. Ripley is getting cranky.

                           ROVERINI
               That is Miss Sherwood now. Marge 
               Sherwood.

                           RIPLEY
                    (appalled, defeated)
               Let her in, what's the difference?  
               Let her in.
                    (Baggio is on his way 
                    to the door.)
               No, actually, no, I'd like it very 
               much if you would ask her to come 
               back later.

     Roverini nods, mutters to Baggio, who heads out.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Thank you.

                           ROVERINI
                    (watching him)
               May I ask...why would you speak to 
               your friend and not your fiancé?

                           RIPLEY
               I think I just said. Ripley was 
               handling some business for me, nor 
               does Mr Ripley want to marry me.  
               Nor did he ask me every day if I 
               would marry him. And when.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 72


                           ROVERINI
               Do you have a photograph of Signor 
               Ripley?

                           RIPLEY
               I'm not in the habit of carrying 
               around photographs of my male friends.

                           ROVERINI
               Now I think I have upset you. My 
               English perhaps is coarse.

                           RIPLEY
               It is a little coarse, yes.

                           ROVERINI
               Sorry.  No-one has seen Signor Ripley 
               since San -

                           RIPLEY
               I have!

                           ROVERINI
               You have, yes.

                           RIPLEY
               No, I have and so has Miss Sherwood, 
               ask her!  And if I could remember 
               which hotel he was staying at - the 
               Goldoni! - Tom was staying at the 
               Goldoni.

                           ROVERINI
               Good. The Goldoni. Yes - you're right. 
               A coincidence.
                    (he gets up to leave)
               I look forward to our next meeting 
               when I will be more careful with my 
               English and persuade you to play me 
               your saxophone.  Alto.

                           RIPLEY
               Absolutely.

                           ROVERINI
                    (suddenly turning)
               I have a witness who thinks they saw 
               two men getting into Mr Miles' car. 
               She wants to identify you in a - 
               confronto - line-up.
                    (ominously)
               Tomorrow then?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 73


                           RIPLEY
                    (thrown, scrabbling)
               Tomorrow.

     Ripley lets them out, heaves a heavy sigh, then peeps through 
     the door, looks down to see Roverini speaking to Marge on 
     the stairs.

                           ROVERINI (O/S)
               Buongiorno, Miss Sherwood.  He's in 
               but I really don't think he wants to 
               see anyone.

     Ripley leans against the door, the noose tightening, then 
     suddenly a voice shocks him upright.

                           MARGE
               Dick? Dickie? I know you can hear 
               me.  What am I doing, chasing you 
               around...?  I was going to say I 
               would count to three and if you didn't 
               open the door, but I won't count any 
               more. On you. I won't count on you 
               any more.  Whatever it is, whatever 
               you've done or haven't done, you've 
               broken my heart.  That's one thing I 
               know you're guilty of, and I don't 
               know why, I don't know why, I just 
               don't know why...

     Ripley listens, there's a silence, then Marge's footsteps as 
     they ring out on the stone stairs.  The tapping sound resolves 
     into the tap-tap of a manual typewriter.

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT, PALAZZO GIOIA. NIGHT.

     Ripley's at the typewriter, he begins to type.

                           RIPLEY
               My dear Tom, I'm getting out of this.  
               Freddie's death, Silvana. I've thought 
               about going to the police, but I 
               can't do it, I can't face it.  I 
               can't face anything anymore...

     INT. RIPLEY'S APARTMENT, PALAZZO GIOIA. NIGHT.

     CHAOS.  Ripley is working quickly, selecting clothes, dividing 
     them into TWO PILES - one for Dickie's trunk, one for his 
     own battered suitcase. He puts the license plates from 
     Freddie's car in Dickie's luggage.  He has placed one shirt 
     on the Ripley pile then checks again, and - on seeing Dickie's 
     initials, places it with the bigger pile, then picks it up 
     again and holds it briefly against his cheek.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 74


     He takes Dickie's rings, opens up a LITTLE BOX of buttons 
     and needles and cufflinks and sadly tosses them in. Dickie's 
     leather writing case goes on the big pile, too, as do cuff 
     links, ties, the Mont Blanc, Dickie's passport, which he 
     opens to scratch at the photograph, obliterating the face.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               ...I wish I could give you the life 
               I took for granted.  You've always 
               understood what's at the heart of 
               me, Tom. Marge never could. I suppose 
               that's why I'm writing this to you, 
               the brother I never had. The only 
               true friend I ever had. In all kinds 
               of ways you're much more like the 
               son my father always wanted.  I 
               realise you can change the people, 
               change the scenery, but you can't 
               change your own rotten self. Now I 
               can't think what to do, or where to 
               go. I'm haunted by everything I've 
               done, and can't undo. I'm sorry, I 
               can't go on.  I've made a mess of 
               being Dickie Greenleaf haven't I?

     He's finished the letter, signs it, puts it in an envelope 
     marked Tom Ripley and places the letter on top of the piano 
     next to Dickie's passport.  His head is reflected in the 
     distorting curve of the lid. As he puts on his glasses there's 
     a moment when there are two heads slowly separating, as Ripley 
     leaves behind his brief life as Dickie Greenleaf.

     INT. BASEMENT, PALAZZO GIOIA. NIGHT.

     Ripley carries Dickie's luggage down into THE COMMUNAL 
     BASEMENT of the Gioia, a wretched place full of shadows and 
     gloom and the overflow from thirty apartments. A red plush 
     couch sits on top of a mound of furniture.  He finds some 
     dustsheets and shoves the cases under them. Then Dickie's 
     saxophone.

     Outside the small window, Ripley sees uniformed feet and the 
     revolving blue light of a Police Car. He shrinks back, turns 
     off the light and disappears into the dark, illuminated 
     fitfully by the strobe of cold blue.

     EXT. BY THE PALAZZO GIOIA, ROME. NIGHT.

     Ripley, familiar battered luggage in tow, appears at the 
     entrance of the building next to his own, glances at the 
     police car parked opposite the big doors, then hurries off 
     into the darkness.

     EXT. BY THE PALAZZO GIOIA. NIGHT.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 75


     Ripley's briefly silhouetted as he scuttles down an alley, 
     hurrying towards a gate, and disappears behind it.

     EXT. PIAZZALE ROMA, VENICE. DAWN.

     Ripley sits next to his battered luggage at the prow of a 
     MOTOR TAXI as it surges towards Venice at dawn. Peter Smith- 
     Kingsley waits on the quay. Ripley waves. Peter waves back.

                           PETER
                    (indicating the taxi 
                    stop)
               I'll see you over there!

     EXT. PIAZZA SAN MARCO, VENICE. EARLY MORNING.

     Ripley and Peter walk through the square, the pigeons 
     scattering. Ripley breathes in the atmosphere, the beautiful 
     grey.

                           RIPLEY
               Peter, I'm really sorry to put you 
               through this. I just couldn't face 
               going to the police by myself when 
               my Italian's so rotten.

                           PETER
               Don't be daft. It's fine. I'm 
               delighted you finally made it to 
               Venice. I'm delighted, contrary to 
               rumour, you're still in one piece?

                           RIPLEY
               What rumour?

                           PETER
               That Dickie murdered you and is 
               travelling under your passport. I 
               know, ridiculous.

     INT. POLICE STATION, VENICE. LATE DAY.

     Later.  Ripley sits in the middle of a bustling Police 
     Station, where thefts, tourists, thieves and complaints are 
     being processed.  The Station is in an old brewery or armory. 
     It's a horrible, monochrome, oppressive place. Peter is in 
     conversation at a desk, turns and walks over to where Ripley 
     waits.

                           PETER (CONT'D)
               Welcome to Venice.  This place reeks, 
               doesn't it? Can you smell it?  Ugh.  
               Sorry. Not the best way to spend 
               your first day.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 76


                           RIPLEY
               It's okay.

                           PETER
               Anyway I've got to the bottom of the 
               delay. Finally.  We're waiting for 
               someone from Rome.

                           RIPLEY
                    (completely thrown)
               What do you mean?  They're sending 
               someone from Rome?

                           PETER
               That's good, isn't it?

                           RIPLEY
                    (as if suffocating)
               No, but I thought that didn't happen 
               in Italy, that each region was 
               completely separate! I was sure that 
               was the -

                           PETER
               You've seen the papers, you know 
               what a big deal it's been here. 
               American tourist murdered -

                           RIPLEY
               It's ridiculous but now you've 
               mentioned the stench I can hardly 
               breathe.

     A door opens. COLONEL VERRECCHIA, fresh from Rome, and a 
     sullen wedge of a man, comes in, scowling at the couple.

     Ripley dare not look up in case it's Roverini.  A POLICEMAN 
     introduces him.

                           POLICEMAN
               Colonelo Verrecchia della Polizia di 
               Roma.

                           VERRECCHIA
                    (to Peter, in Italian)
               Qui e Ripley?  Who is Ripley?

                           PETER
                    (in Italian)
               Lui. Him.

     Verrecchia strides past them and into a smaller, interview 
     room at the back of the station.  His manner is ominous.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 77


     INT. POLICE STATION, INTERVIEW ROOM, VENICE. LATE DAY.

     This room is not at all friendly. There is evidence of a 
     locked area for cells at one wall.  A small, sour window 
     gives onto a canal.  The main station is glimpsed through 
     some internal windows. Peter and Ripley come through.

     Verrecchia sits down.  Verrecchia talks in staccato Italian, 
     during which Peter translates.

                           VERRECCHIA
               Ho assunto io la guida delle indagini 
               in seguito alla negativa valutazione 
               delle disdicevoli circostanze 
               verificatesi con il mio predecessore 
               Roverini che come e noto non e 
               riuscito a impedire il verificarsi 
               della scomparsa del signor Greenleaf, 
               il quale era l'unica persona al 
               momento passibile di incriminazione 
               del reato di omicidio del signor 
               Miles.

                           PETER
                    (translating)
               He's taken over the case because...  
               they're annoyed the previous chap 
               let Dickie...disappear when he was 
               the only, he was the only suspect in 
               Freddie's murder.

                           VERRECCHIA
               Quando e stata l'ultima volta che il 
               signor Ripley ha visto il signor 
               Greenleaf?
                    (When was the last 
                    time Ripley saw 
                    Greenleaf?)

     Ripley forgets he's not supposed to have much Italian and 
     answers.

                           RIPLEY
               In Rome, about three weeks ago.
                    (shrugs)
               I knew that one.

                           PETER
                    (giving Ripley a look)
               A Roma, circa tre settimane fa.

                           VERRECCHIA
               Dove e stato il signor Ripley da 
               allora?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 78


                           PETER
                    (translating)
               Where have you been since then?

                           RIPLEY
               I've been backpacking.

                           PETER
               I don't know how to translate that.
                    (he tries)
               E difficile....il signor Ripley 
               ....dormiva all'aperto, con un...

                           VERRECCHIA
               All'aperto? Col freddo che ha fatto?

                           PETER
               He thinks it's very cold to be 
               sleeping outside.

                           VERRECCHIA
               Il signor Ripley ha sviluppate 
               tendenze omosessuali?

                           PETER
               Are you a homosexual?
                    (then as himself)
               Interesting non-sequitur.

                           RIPLEY
               No.

                           PETER
                    (translates for him)
               No.
                    (as Peter, drily)
               By the way, officially there are no 
               Italian homosexuals. Makes Leonardo, 
               Michelangelo very inconvenient.

                           RIPLEY
               Tell him I have a fiancé, Dickie has 
               a fiancé and Freddie Miles probably 
               had a string of them.

                           PETER
                    (translating)
               Il signor Ripley ha una fidanzata, 
               il signor Dickie ha una fidanzata e 
               probabilmente il signor Freddie Miles 
               ha molte fidanzate.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 79


                           VERRECCHIA
                    (laughs)
               Mamma mia, quante fidanzate!

     They all laugh.

                           RIPLEY
               What did he say?

                           PETER
               He says so many fiancés.

                           VERRECCHIA
                    (suddenly very tough)
               Lei ha ucciso prima Freddie Miles e 
               dopo Dickie Greenleaf! Vero?

     As Peter translates Verrecchia watches intently.

                           PETER
               He wants to know if you killed Freddie 
               Miles and then killed Dickie 
               Greenleaf?

                           RIPLEY
                    (outraged)
               No I did not. I did not kill Freddie 
               Miles and then kill Dickie Greenleaf.  
               Is he accusing me?
                    (Peter clearly doesn't 
                    ask)
               Ask him if he's accusing me!

                           PETER
               He's already angry, I don't think -

                           RIPLEY
                    (interrupting, heated)
               Just because he doesn't like 
               Americans!

                           VERRECCHIA
               Non e questo il luogo per le vostre 
               conversazioni private!  (This is not 
               the place for your private 
               conversations)

                           PETER
                    (appeasing him)
               A ragione.  A ragione.  (You're right.
               You're right.)

                           VERRECCHIA
               Hmm. C'e questa...  (There's this...)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 80


     Verrecchia hands over a letter. It's opened. Ripley's name 
     on the outside. Ripley stares at it.

                           VERRECCHIA (CONT'D)
               Questa lettera e stata trovata 
               nell'abitazione del signor Richard 
               Greenleaf a Roma.

                           PETER
               They found this in Dickie's place in 
               Rome.

                           RIPLEY
               You opened this?

                           VERRECCHIA
               Of course!

     He stands and takes the letter out.  Begins to read. He has 
     the look of a man whose privacy has been violated.

                           RIPLEY
                    (to Peter)
               It's a suicide note.
                    (to Verrecchia)
               You ask me all these questions and 
               you've already read this suicide 
               note?

     INT. PETER SMITH-KINGSLEY'S APARTMENT. DAY.

     There's music everywhere - and stands - and posters of 
     performances and PHOTOGRAPHS OF PETER CONDUCTING.  Peter is 
     an opera repetiteur. Ripley is sitting at Peter's piano, 
     playing from the score of Vivaldi's Stabat Mater.  Peter's 
     made supper.

     He's setting the table.

                           PETER
               Can you imagine, if Dickie did kill 
               Freddie, what must that be like? To 
               wake up every morning, how can you? 
               Just wake up and be a person, drink 
               a coffee...?

                           RIPLEY
               Whatever you do, however terrible, 
               however hurtful - it all makes sense, 
               doesn't it? Inside your head. You 
               never meet anybody who thinks they're 
               a bad person or that they're cruel.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 81


                           PETER
               But you're still tormented, you must 
               be, you've killed somebody...

                           RIPLEY
               Don't you put the past in a room, in 
               the cellar, and lock the door and 
               just never go in there? Because that's 
               what I do.

                           PETER
               Probably. In my case it's probably a 
               whole building.

                           RIPLEY
               Then you meet someone special and 
               all you want to do is toss them the 
               key, say open up, step inside, but 
               you can't because it's dark and there 
               are demons and if anybody saw how 
               ugly it was...

     Peter's come over, stands behind him over the piano.

                           PETER
               That's the music talking.  Harder to 
               be bleak if you're playing Knees up 
               Mother Brown.

     He vamps this vaudeville song over Ripley's shoulder.

                           RIPLEY
               I keep wanting to do that - fling 
               open the door - let the light in, 
               clean everything out.  If I could 
               get a huge eraser and rub everything 
               out...starting with myself...the 
               thing is, Peter, if...

                           PETER
                    (as Ripley falls silent)
               No key, huh?

     INT. SANTA MARIA DELLA PIETA, BRIDGE OF SIGHS. DAY.

     A YOUNG BOY SINGS the soprano part of Vivaldi's STABAT MATER.

     A piercingly pure sound in Vivaldi's own church.  The 
     orchestra - rehearsing - is conducted by Peter from the organ.

     Ripley slips in at the back of the church. He stands and 
     listens. Peter sees him, smiles.  Ripley smiles back.

     EXT. VENICE, S.LUCIA RAILWAY STATION. DAY.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 82


     MARGE appears on the steps, carrying an overnight bag. Ripley 
     and Peter have come to meet her.

                           MARGE
                    (kissing him warmly)
               Hello Peter, so good to see you.

                           RIPLEY
               Hello Marge!

                           MARGE
                    (coolly)
               Tom.

     They walk towards the Vaporetto.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               So you found Peter...

                           PETER
               I think we sort of found each other.

     Marge smiles enigmatically. Ripley registers.

                           PETER (CONT'D)
               Where's Dickie's father?

                           MARGE
               He's not coming till the morning.  
               Evidently his stomach - I don't think 
               the food here is agreeing with him.

                           RIPLEY
               I was looking forward to seeing him.

                           MARGE
               Dickie hasn't killed himself. I'm 
               sure of that.  There's a private 
               detective on the case now - a Mr 
               MacCarron - Dickie's father's 
               employing him.

                           RIPLEY
               That's a terrific idea.

                           MARGE
               He's American. He's already discovered 
               Dickie cashed checks for $1000 the 
               day before he disappeared.

     They step onto the Vaporetto.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 83


                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               Is that what you do before you jump 
               in the Tiber?  I don't think so.

     EXT. RIPLEY'S HOUSE, VENICE. DAY.

     The boat arrives at the entrance to the house. Peter opens 
     the door as Ripley collects Marge's bags.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
                    (to Peter)
               Is this you?

                           PETER
               No, it's Tom's. Splendid, eh?

                           MARGE
               Golly. Who's paying for this?

                           RIPLEY
               Peter found it for me. I can afford 
               it because it's damp and, and falling 
               down.

     INT. RIPLEY'S HOUSE, VENICE. DAY.

     Marge, entering the living room, is astonished at its 
     grandeur. She walks around as Ripley heads for the bar.

                           MARGE
               This is spectacular.

                           PETER
               That's why Tom wanted you to stay.  
               It's better than squeezing into my 
               room, and I know how you hate hotels.

                           MARGE
               A hotel would've been fine.
                    (to Ripley)
               We'll have to tell Mr Greenleaf how 
               far his dollar has stretched.

     Ripley is shaking a martini. Marge laughs, helpless, somehow 
     raging. Peter turns.

                           PETER
               What's funny?

                           MARGE
               No, nothing. I'm just thinking about 
               when Tom arrived in Mongi.
                    (to Ripley)
               And now look at you.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 84


                           RIPLEY
               Look at me what?

                           MARGE
               To the manner born.

     EXT. PIAZZA SAN MARCO, VENICE. DAY.

     St Mark's Square is buzzing with life - tourists, balloon 
     sellers - a man playing saxophone.  HERBERT GREENLEAF sits 
     out in the colonade on one of the many tables at Florian's 
     Cafe, cradling a glass of hot water. He gets up as Marge and 
     Ripley arrive.

                           RIPLEY
               Mr Greenleaf.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Tom. How are you?  You look well.

                           RIPLEY
               I'm well, thank you.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Far cry from New York.

                           RIPLEY
               Yes it is.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Marge, good morning.  Unusual weather.

                           MARGE
               Very.

                           RIPLEY
               And you, sir?  Any better?

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Pretty good.  Sticking with hot water.

                           MARGE
               Where's Mr MacCarron?

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               San Remo. The police are amateurs. 
               Well, my boy, it's come to a pretty 
               pass, hasn't it?

                           RIPLEY
               Yes.  What's the detective hoping to 
               find in San Remo?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 85


                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               He's being thorough, that's all. I'm 
               learning about my son, Tom, now he's 
               missing. I'm learning a great deal 
               about him. I hope you can fill in 
               some more blanks for me.  Marge has 
               been good enough to do that, about 
               Mongibello.

                           RIPLEY
               I'll try my best, sir. Obviously 
               I'll do anything to help Dickie.

     Marge looks at him in contempt.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               This theory, the letter he left for 
               you, the Police think that's a clear 
               indication he was planning on doing 
               something...to himself.

                           MARGE
               I just don't believe that!

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               You don't want to, dear. I'd like to 
               talk to Tom alone - perhaps this 
               afternoon?  Would you mind? Marge, 
               what a man may say to his sweetheart 
               and what he'll admit to another fellow -

                           MARGE
               Such as?

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               What a waste of lives and 
               opportunities and -

     A saxophonist is blaring away in the piazza. Greenleaf 
     suddenly explodes.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF (CONT'D)
               - I'd pay that fellow a hundred 
               dollars RIGHT NOW TO SHUT UP!

     INT. RIPLEY'S HOUSE. AFTERNOON.

     Herbert Greenleaf sits on a chair, Ripley pours him some 
     tea.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 86


                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
                    (reading, plunging 
                    into gloom)
               No, Marge doesn't know the half of 
               it.

                           RIPLEY
               I think it might hurt her to know.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               And his passport photo? Did you hear? 
               To scratch out your own face like 
               that - can you imagine - the frame 
               of mind you'd have to be in?
                    (reading)
               I've thought about going to the police 
               but I can't face it. I can't face 
               anything anymore.

                           RIPLEY
               I feel guilty. I feel like I pushed 
               him away. I spoke and he heard you.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
                    (such a disappointed 
                    father)
               Well, if we all pushed him away what 
               about him pushing us away? You've 
               been a great friend to my son. 
               Everything is someone else's fault. 
               We all want to sow wild oars. 
               Somebody's got to - what's the word?
                    (Ripley shakes his 
                    head)
               The moment someone confronts him he 
               lashes out.  He lashes out.  You 
               know, people always say you can't 
               choose your parents, but you can't 
               choose your children.

     INT. RIPLEY'S HOUSE, VENICE. DUSK.

     Ripley wakes up from an awful, chilling nightmare, his head 
     full of ghosts. He's cramped up in an armchair, his arms in 
     sine foetal protection. HIS DOOR KNOCKER IS BEING REPEATEDLY 
     SHAKEN. He surfaces thickly, stumbles to the door.  It's 
     Peter and Marge.

                           RIPLEY
               I'm sorry. I was asleep. I must have 
               fallen asleep.

                           PETER
               You look ghastly, Tom. Are you okay?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 87


                           MARGE
               Did Dickie's Dad go?

                           RIPLEY
               He's having an early night.

                           MARGE
               Poor man.
                    (she heads to her 
                    room)
               We were knocking on that door for 
               ever.
                    (she fiddles inside 
                    the sleeve of her 
                    dress)
               I think I've broken my strap.

                           PETER
               Not guilty.

                           RIPLEY
               I'll fix some drinks.

                           MARGE
               You walk in Venice!

     She takes off her shoe, examining her feet for wear and tear, 
     then disappears into the bedroom. Peter walks over to Ripley, 
     a little concerned.

                           PETER
               Are you okay?

                           RIPLEY
               I'm fine.

                           PETER
                    (a hand on his shoulder)
               Do you want me to stick around?

                           RIPLEY
               It's okay.

                           PETER
               Or I could come back.

     Ripley looks at him. That's never happened. He digs in his 
     pocket, finds his key, gives it to Peter. Peter smiles.

                           PETER (CONT'D)
               Your key.

     INT. RIPLEY'S BATHROOM, VENICE. NIGHT.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 88


     Ripley's in the bath. Marge knocks on his door.

                           MARGE (O/S)
               Tom?

                           RIPLEY
               Marge, I'm in the bath. Won't be 
               long.

                           MARGE
               Tom, I need to talk to you. It's 
               urgent.

     Ripley, irritated, opens the door, his towel wrapped around 
     his waist. Marge is white. She's wearing a robe. She's 
     slightly breathless.

                           MARGE (CONT'D)
               I found Dickie's rings.

                           RIPLEY
               What?

                           MARGE
               You've got Dickie's rings.

                           RIPLEY
               I can explain.

     He can't. His eyes dart. Marge holds up the evidence.

                           MARGE
               Dickie promised me he would never 
               take off this ring.

                           RIPLEY
               Let me put on some clothes and then 
               we can talk about this.

                           MARGE
               I have to tell Mr Greenleaf. I have 
               to tell Mr Greenleaf. I have to tell 
               Mr Greenleaf.

                           RIPLEY
               Marge, calm down, you're being 
               hysterical.

                           MARGE
               He promised me. I swear I'll never 
               take off this ring until the day -

                           RIPLEY
               Shut up! Shut up!

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 89


     His towel slips off from his waist.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               I'm wet, Marge, I've lost my towel, 
               I'd really like to put my clothes 
               on. So go and pour us both a drink, 
               will you?

     She goes off obediently, a zombie. He shuts the door.

     Immediately he starts looking for something, anything, to 
     kill Marge with. He's got a shoe but it feels too light.  He 
     opens cabinets, drawers - nail scissors, nothing - then picks 
     up his straight razor and considers it in the mirror.

     INT. RIPLEY'S SITTING ROOM, VENICE. NIGHT.

     Marge is leaving, coat on, as Ripley comes out of the 
     bathroom.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Marge?  Where are you going?

                           MARGE
                    (like a creature caught 
                    in headlights)
               I was looking for a needle and thread. 
               I wasn't snooping. I was looking for 
               a needle and thread to mend my bra.

                           RIPLEY
               The scent you're wearing. I bought 
               it for you, not Dickie. The thing 
               about Dickie.  So many things. The 
               day he was late back from Rome - I 
               tried to tell you this - he was with 
               another girl. I'm not talking about 
               Meredith, another girl we met in a 
               bar. He couldn't be faithful for 
               five minutes.  So when he makes a 
               promise it doesn't mean what it means 
               when you make a promise. Or I do. He 
               has so many realities, Dickie, and 
               he believes them all. He lies. He 
               lies, that's his... half the time he 
               doesn't even realize.

     A SMALL RED STAIN is appearing on the pocket of his robe. As 
     he speaks the stain spreads. He looks at it absently.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Today, for the first time, I've even 
               wondered whether he might have killed
                           (MORE)

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 90


                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Freddie.  He would get so crazy if 
               anybody contradicted him - well, you 
               know that.  Marge. I loved you - you 
               might as well know - I loved you, 
               and because he knew I loved you, he 
               let you think I loved him.  Didn't 
               you see, couldn't you see? I don't 
               know, maybe it's grotesque to say 
               this now, so just write it on a piece 
               of paper or something, and keep it 
               in your purse for a rainy day. Tom 
               loves me.

                           MARGE
                    (as if she'd heard 
                    nothing)
               Why do you have Dickie's rings?

     His hand goes to his pocket. HE'S GOING TO HAVE TO DO IT.

                           RIPLEY
               I told you. He gave them to me.

                           MARGE
               Why? When?

                           RIPLEY
               I feel as if you haven't heard 
               anything I've been saying to you.

                           MARGE
               I don't believe you.

                           RIPLEY
               It's all true.

                           MARGE
               I don't believe a single word you've 
               said.

     Marge is shivering. Ripley, ominous, advances, she retreats.

                           RIPLEY
               You're shivering, Marge. Can I hold 
               you?  Would you let me hold you?

     Marge panics, backed up against the door. She screams and 
     turns straight into the arms of a startled PETER who's come 
     back to visit Ripley, and is unlocking the door.

                           MARGE
                    (sobbing uncontrollably)
               Oh Peter! Get me out of here.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 91


     Ripley storms off. His hand comes out of his pocket COVERED 
     IN BLOOD from the razor. Peter notices, appalled.

                           PETER
               Tom, are you okay?

                           RIPLEY
               You try. You try talking to her.

                           PETER
                    (calls after him)
               Tom. Tom! Tell me, what's going on?

                           RIPLEY
                    (not turning around)
               I give up.

     INT. RIPLEY HOUSE, LIVING ROOM. NIGHT.

     Peter has just put a band-aid over Ripley's cut hand.

                           PETER
               You can't be angry with her.  She's 
               upset and needs someone to blame. So 
               she blames you.  I'll go home and 
               talk to her.  As for you - either 
               get a safety razor or grow a beard.

     INT. LOBBY, EUROPA REGINA HOTEL, VENICE. MORNING.

     Ripley hurries through the gleaming marble entrance.

     INT. HERBERT GREENLEAF'S SUITE, EUROPA REGINA. DAY.

     Ripley knocks on the door. It's opened by a face he doesn't 
     recognize. A middle-aged heavy set man. It's MacCARRON, the 
     private investigator.

                           RIPLEY
               Is Mr Greenleaf here?

                           MACCARRON
               Mr Ripley? I'm Alvin MacCarron.

                           MARGE
               I don't know, I don't know, I just 
               know it.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
                    (O/S)
               Marge, there's female intuition, and 
               then there are facts -

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 92


     Greenleaf sits with a scrubbed Marge, her hair pulled back, 
     as if newly-widowed. THE RINGS SIT GLINTING ON THE COFFEE 
     TABLE.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF (CONT'D)
               Tom.

                           RIPLEY
               Hello, sir.
                    (smiles thinly at 
                    Marge)
               Marge, you should have waited, didn't 
               Peter tell you I'd come by and pick 
               you up?

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Marge has been telling us about the 
               rings.

                           RIPLEY
               You know I feel ridiculous I didn't
               mention them yesterday - I clean 
               forgot - ridiculous.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               Perhaps you didn't mention them 
               because there's only one conclusion 
               to be drawn.

     Ripley worries about what that conclusion is as Mr Greenleaf 
     heads into his bedroom.

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF (CONT'D)
               I'm going to take Marge for a little 
               walk, Tom.  Mr MacCarron wants to 
               talk with you.

                           RIPLEY
                    (feeling caged in)
               We could go down to the bar - no 
               need for you to -

                           HERBERT GREENLEAF
               No, he should talk to you alone.

     He helps Marge to her feet and leads her out. RIPLEY IS 
     PARALYSED. He waits for the door to shut. Aimlessly he walks 
     out onto the terrace, with its staggering, beautiful and 
     indifferent view.

     EXT. EUROPA REGINA, THE GREENLEAF TERRACE. DAY.

     Ripley stands, steels himself for MacCarron's charges.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 93


                           RIPLEY
               I could probably see my bedroom from 
               here. I can see my house. When you 
               see where you live from a distance 
               it's like a dream, isn't it?

                           MACCARRON
                    (coming out)
               I don't care for B.S. I don't care 
               to hear it. I don't care to speak 
               it.

                           RIPLEY
               Okay.

                           MACCARRON
               Why do you think Dickie's father 
               sent him to Europe in the first place? 
               Did you know at Princeton Dickie 
               Greenleaf half-killed a boy?

     Ripley turns, shocked.

                           MACCARRON
               At a party. Over some girl. He kicked 
               the kid several times in the head. 
               Put him in the hospital. The boy had 
               a wire fixed in his jaw. The Rome 
               Police didn't think to ask Mr 
               Greenleaf.

     MacCarron gets up.

                           MACCARRON (CONT'D)
               Nor did they think to check whether 
               a Thomas Ripley had ever been a 
               student at Princeton University. I 
               turned up a Tom Ripley who'd been a 
               piano tuner in the music department.

     Ripley's head drops.

                           MACCARRON (CONT'D)
               See - in America we're taught to 
               check a fact before it becomes a 
               fact. We're taught to nose around 
               when a girl drowns herself, find out 
               if that girl was pregnant, find out 
               if Dickie had an embarrassment there.

     Ripley doesn't know where this barrage is going.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 94


                           MACCARRON (CONT'D)
               Mr Greenleaf appreciates your loyalty.  
               He really does. Marge, she's got a 
               hundred theories, but there are a 
               few things she doesn't know. We hope 
               she never knows.

                           RIPLEY
               I hope she never knows.

                           MACCARRON
               Three different people saw Dickie 
               get into Freddie Miles' car. A man 
               who won't identify himself because 
               he was jumping someone else's wife 
               at the time saw Dickie removing 
               license plates from a red sports 
               car. The Police know about this man 
               because he happens to be a Policeman.

     He walks out of the room, returns carrying THE LICENSE PLATES 
     from Freddie's car.

                           MACCARRON (CONT'D)
               I found these in the basement of 
               Dickie's apartment. They belonged to 
               Freddie's car.  Mr Greenleaf has 
               asked me to lose them in the canal 
               this evening.

     Ripley can't believe what he's hearing. It's like a dream.

                           MACCARRON (CONT'D)
               Mr Greenleaf also feels there was a 
               silent promise in Dickie's letter to 
               you which he intends to honor.  He 
               intends to transfer a good part of 
               Dickie's income from his trust into 
               your name. He doesn't intend to give 
               the Italian police any information 
               about Dickie's past. He's rather 
               hoping you'll feel the same.

     There is a silence in which this strange compact is agreed.

     EXT. EUROPA REGINA MOORING. DAY.

     Ripley stands with Marge, Mr Greenleaf and MacCarron at the 
     water's edge - MOTOR LAUNCH growling. They shake hands, and 
     then MacCarron and Mr Greenleaf get into the launch. Herbert 
     Greenleaf carries the saxophone case.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 95


                           RIPLEY
                    (to Marge)
               I feel I never should have said those 
               things to you the other evening. I 
               was pretty flustered, the rings and - 
               and you looked so, I don't know.

     Marge shakes her head to silence him.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               But I hope that note goes to New 
               York in your purse, for a rainy day.

                           MARGE
               What are you going to do now, Tom?

                           RIPLEY
               I don't know.  Peter has a concert 
               in Athens next month - and he's asked 
               if I want to go along, help out. He 
               says goodbye by the way - he's in 
               rehearsal, otherwise -

                           MARGE
               Why do I think there's never been a 
               Ripley rainy day?

                           RIPLEY
               What?

                           MARGE
                    (lunging at him)
               I know it was you - I know it was 
               you, Tom. I know it was you. I know 
               you killed Dickie. I know it was 
               you.

                           RIPLEY
               Oh Marge.

     He puts his hand out to control her. She pushes it away.

     STARTS TO LASH OUT AT HIM, the frustration too much, so that 
     Ripley has to cover his face. MacCarron comes off the boat 
     to restrain her.  Ripley looks at him as if to say: what can 
     you do, she's hysterical. MacCarron nods, pulls her on to 
     the boat. Greenleaf catches Ripley's eye, guiltily. Turns 
     away.

     They stand silhouetted as the launch revs up and surges off 
     towards open waters, passing the little fleets of gondolas.

     EXT. FERRY FOR ATHENS, NAPLES. DAY.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 96


     A week later and Peter and Ripley are on the deck of the 
     ferry, the HELLENES, as it sails towards Greece.  They're 
     laughing.

                           RIPLEY (CONT'D)
               Ask me what I want to change about 
               this moment.

                           PETER
               What do you want to change about 
               this moment?

                           RIPLEY
               Nothing.

     INT. PETER'S CABIN. DUSK.

     Peter's in a bathrobe organising his currency, his traveller's 
     cheques. Ripley knocks on the door, comes in.

                           PETER
               Hello.  What are you up to?

                           RIPLEY
               All kinds of things. Making plans.

                           PETER
               Plans - good, plans for tonight or 
               plans for the future?

                           RIPLEY
               I don't know. Both.  My plan right 
               now is to go up on deck, look at the 
               sunset.  Come with me.

                           PETER
               You go. I don't want to get dressed 
               yet.  Come back though.  Come back.
                    (smiles at him)
               You know, you look so relaxed, like 
               a completely different person.

                           RIPLEY
               Well, that's entirely your fault.  
               And, if I fall overboard, that'll be 
               your fault too.

     EXT. DECK OF THE HELLENES. SUNSET.

     Ripley stands on deck, staring at the magnificent sunset.

     Then a voice shakes him from his reverie.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 97


                           MEREDITH
               Dickie?  Dickie?

     He turns. He's caught. Suddenly he's Dickie.

                           MEREDITH (CONT'D)
               Dickie, my God!

                           RIPLEY
               Hello Meredith.

                           MEREDITH
               I was looking at you, your clothes, 
               I wouldn't have known you...

                           RIPLEY
               Well, you've spotted me and so you 
               get the reward.

                           MEREDITH
               What?

                           RIPLEY
               Just kidding. Are you alone?

                           MEREDITH
               Hardly. I couldn't be less alone.

     Meredith points to the UPPER DECK BALCONY where TWO OLDER 
     COUPLES are walking around the deck.

                           RIPLEY
               Of course.  Aunt Joan.

                           MEREDITH
               And co. A lot of co. Oh, God, I've 
               thought about you so much.

                           RIPLEY
               I've thought about you.

     And now he's thinking I can't kill them all...

                           MEREDITH
               When I thought about you I was mostly 
               hating you. Where've you been hiding?

                           RIPLEY
               I haven't been hiding. I've been in 
               Police custody. They've been trying 
               to flush out Freddie's killer.

                           MEREDITH
               You're kidding.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 98


                           RIPLEY
               They're letting me have this vacation.  
               Which is why the get-up. Which is 
               why you haven't heard from me.

                           MEREDITH
               You know, the whole world thinks you 
               killed Freddie? It's terrible.

                           RIPLEY
               I know. Look, I can't talk now. Later.  
               Later?

     He kisses her.  Full of future.

                           MEREDITH
               So - are you traveling under R?

                           RIPLEY
               You know what - I am.

                           MEREDITH
               Dickie, are you with Peter Smith-
               Kingsley?  I bet you are. My aunt 
               thought she saw him.

                           RIPLEY
                    (horrified)
               Peter Smith-Kingsley?  I haven't 
               seen him in months.  No, I'm alone.
                    (and he understands 
                    this is not any kind 
                    of lie)

     INT. PETER'S CABIN. NIGHT.

     Peter's working on his score, lying on his front, apparently 
     engrossed. Ripley knocks and enters. Looks long at Peter.

                           PETER
               How was it?

                           RIPLEY
               Good. But I think we should stay in 
               here for the rest of the trip.

                           PETER
               Was that Meredith?

                           RIPLEY
                    (sighs)
               Was who Meredith?

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                            p. 99


                           PETER
               Meredith Logue. You were kissing 
               somebody. Looked like Meredith.

                           RIPLEY
               Hardly kissing. Kissing off.

                           PETER
               Didn't look that way - you know - 
               from a distance.

                           RIPLEY
               I lied. To her. She thought she'd 
               seen you.

                           PETER
               Why lie?

                           RIPLEY
               Dickie and Peter, that's just too 
               good gossip, isn't it?

                           PETER
               Or Tom and Peter even.

                           RIPLEY
               Well that would be even better gossip.

                           PETER
               Really, why?
                    (completely lost)
               Sorry, I'm completely lost.

                           RIPLEY
               I know. I'm lost, too.  I'm going to 
               be stuck in the basement, aren't I, 
               that's my, that's my - terrible and 
               alone and dark - and I've lied about 
               who I am, and where I am, and so 
               nobody can ever find me.

                           PETER
               What do you mean lied about who you 
               are?

                           RIPLEY
               I suppose I always thought - better 
               to be a fake somebody than a real 
               nobody.

                           PETER
               What are you talking about - you're 
               not a nobody! That's the last thing 
               you are.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                           p. 100


                           RIPLEY
               Peter, I... I...

                           PETER
                    (conciliatory)
               And don't forget. I have the key.

                           RIPLEY
               You have the key. Tell me some good 
               things about Tom Ripley. Don't get 
               up.  Just tell me some nice things.

     He sits on the bed, leans against Peter. His eyes are brimming 
     with tears.  He takes the cord from Peter's robe and begins 
     twisting it in his hands.

                           PETER
               Good things about Tom Ripley?  Could 
               take some time!... Tom is talented. 
               Tom is tender... Tom is beautiful...

                           RIPLEY
                    (during this, and 
                    tender)
               You're such a liar...

                           PETER
               ...Tom is a mystery...

     Ripley is pressing against him, moving up his body, kisses 
     his shoulder, the cord wrapped tight in his hands...

     INT. RIPLEY'S CABIN. NIGHT.

     Ripley returns to his cabin. Sits on the bed, desolate.

                           PETER (O/S) (CONT'D)
               ...Tom is not a nobody. Tom has 
               secrets he doesn't want to tell me, 
               and I wish he would.  Tom has 
               nightmares. That's not a good thing. 
               Tom has someone to love him.  That 
               is a good thing!
                    (feeling Ripley's 
                    weight on him)
               Tom is crushing me. Tom is crushing 
               me.
                    (suddenly alarmed)
               Tom, you're crushing me!

     The door of his closet flips open with the swell and he 
     catches his reflection. It swings shut. Open then shut.

                                                       (CONTINUED)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
                                                           p. 101


     Through the porthole the weather's changing as the light 
     dies. There's a swell as the horizon rises and falls in the 
     round glass. Ripley, alone, in a nightmare of his own making.

                               THE END.