by David Mamet
SIR ROBERT MORTON: (To RONNIE) Go On.
RONNIE: Then she said: “I only know that the boy who bought a postal order for fifteen and six was the same boy that cashed one for five shillings.” So the Commander said: “Did you buy a postal order for fifteen and six?” And I said: “Yes,” and then they made me write Elliot Minor’s name on an envelope, and compared it to the signature on the postal order—then they sent me to the sanatorium, and ten days later I was sacked—I mean—expelled.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I see. (Quietly) Did you cash a postal order belonging to Elliot Minor for five shillings?
RONNIE: No, sir.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Did you break into his locker and steal it?
RONNIE: No, sir.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: And that is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
A UNIFORMED CHAUFFEUR has come into the chambers and stands, by MICHAEL, in the BG.
RONNIE: Yes, sir.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Right. When the Commander asked you to write Elliot’s name on an envelope, how did you write it? With Christian name or initials?
RONNIE: I wrote Charles K. Elliot.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Charles K. Elliot. Did you by any chance happen to see the forged postal order in the Commander’s office?
RONNIE: Oh, yes. The Commander showed it to me.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Before or after you had written Elliot’s name on the envelope?
RONNIE: After.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: After. And did you happen to see how Elliot’s name was written on the postal order?
RONNIE: Yes, sir. The same.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: The same? Charles K. Elliot?
RONNIE: Yes, sir.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: When you wrote on the envelope, what made you choose that particular form?
RONNIE: That was the way he usually signed his name—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: How did you know?
RONNIE: Well—he was a great friend of mine—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: That is no answer. How did you know?
RONNIE: I’d seen him sign things.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What things?
RONNIE: Oh—ordinary things.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I repeat: what things?
RONNIE: (Reluctantly) Bits of paper.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Bits of paper? And why did he sign his name on bits of paper?
RONNIE: He was practicing his signature.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: And you saw him?
RONNIE: Yes.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Did he know you saw him?
RONNIE: Well—yes—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: In other words, he showed you exactly how he wrote his signature?
RONNIE: Yes. I suppose he did.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Did you practice writing it yourself?
RONNIE: I might have done.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What do you mean, you might have done? Did you or did you not?
RONNIE: Yes—
ARTHUR: Ronnie! You never told me that.
RONNIE: It was only for a joke—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Never mind if it was for a joke or not. The fact is you practiced forging Elliot’s signature—
RONNIE: It wasn’t forging—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What do you call it then?
RONNIE: Writing.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Very well. Writing. Whoever stole the postal order and cashed it also wrote Elliot’s signature, didn’t he?
RONNIE: Yes.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: And, oddly enough, in the exact form in which you had earlier been practicing writing his signature.
RONNIE: I say. Which side are you on?
MICHAEL: Are you aware…
MICHAEL takes a piece of paper from a folder and starts to hand it to SIR ROBERT. SIR ROBERT waves it off, to say, “Yes, I know what it contains.”
MICHAEL: (Cont’d.) Are you aware that the Admiralty sent up the forged postal order to Mr. Ridgely-Pearce, the greatest handwriting expert in England?
RONNIE: Yes.
MICHAEL: (Showing blown-up handwriting samples)… you are aware of that … And you know that Mr. Ridgely-Pearce affirmed that there was no doubt that the signature on the postal order and the signature you wrote on the envelope were by one and the same hand?
RONNIE: Yes.
MICHAEL: And you still say you didn’t forge that signature?
RONNIE: Yes, I do.
MICHAEL: In other words, Mr. Ridgely-Pearce doesn’t know his job?
RONNIE: Well, he’s wrong anyway.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: When you went into the locker room after dinner, were you alone?
RONNIE: I don’t remember.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I think you do. Were you alone in the locker room?
RONNIE: Yes.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: And you knew which was Elliot’s locker?
RONNIE: Yes. Of course.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Why did you go in there at all?
RONNIE: I’ve told you. To put my fifteen and six away.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Why?
RONNIE: I thought it would be safer.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Why safer than your pocket?
RONNIE: I don’t know.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: You had it in your pocket at dinnertime. Why the sudden fear for its safety?
RONNIE: I tell you, I don’t know—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: It was rather an odd thing to do, wasn’t it? The money was perfectly safe in your pocket. Why did you suddenly feel yourself impelled to put it away in your locker?
RONNIE: I don’t know.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Was it because you knew you would be alone in the locker room at that time?
RONNIE: No.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Where was Elliot’s locker in relation to yours?
RONNIE: Next to it, but one.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Next, but one. What time did Elliot put his postal order in his locker?
RONNIE: I don’t know. I didn’t even know he had a postal order at all—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Yet you say he was a great friend of yours—
RONNIE: He didn’t tell me he had one.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: How very secretive of him. What time did you go to the locker room?
RONNIE: I don’t remember.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Was it directly after dinner?
RONNIE: Yes, I think so.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What did you do after leaving the locker room?
RONNIE: I’ve told you. I went for permission to go to the Post Office.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What time was that?
RONNIE: About a quarter past two.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Dinner is over at a quarter to two. Which means that you were in the locker room for half an hour?
RONNIE: I wasn’t there all that time—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: How long were you there?
RONNIE: About five minutes.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What were you doing for the other twenty-five?
RONNIE: I don’t remember.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: It’s odd that your memory is so good about some things and so bad about others—
RONNIE: Perhaps I waited outside the C.O.’s office.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Perhaps you waited outside the C.O.’s office! And perhaps no one saw you there either?
RONNIE: No. I don’t think they did.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What were you thinking about outside the C.O.’s office for twenty-five minutes?
RONNIE: I don’t even know if I was there. I can’t remember. Perhaps I wasn’t there at all.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: No. Perhaps you were still in the locker room rifling Elliot’s locker—
ARTHUR: Sir Robert, I must ask you—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Quiet!
RONNIE: I remember now. I remember. Someone did see me outside the C.O.’s office. A chap called Casey. I remember I spoke to him.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: What did you say?
RONNIE: I said: “Come down to the Post Office wi
th me. I’m going to cash a postal order.”
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Cash a postal order.
RONNIE: I mean get.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: You said cash. Why did you say cash if you meant get?
RONNIE: I don’t know.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I suggest cash was the truth.
RONNIE: No, no. It wasn’t. It wasn’t really. You’re muddling me.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: You seem easily muddled. How many other lies have you told?
RONNIE: None. Really, I haven’t—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I suggest your whole testimony is a lie—
RONNIE: No! It’s the truth—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I suggest there is barely one single word of truth in anything you have said, either to me, or to the Judge Advocate, or to the Commander. I suggest that you broke into Elliot’s locker, that you stole the postal order for five shillings belonging to Elliot, that you cashed it by means of forging his name—
RONNIE: I didn’t. I didn’t.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I suggest that you did it for a joke, meaning to give Elliot the five shillings back, but that when you met him and he said he had reported the matter you got frightened and decided to keep quiet—
RONNIE: No, no. It isn’t true—
SIR ROBERT MORTON: I suggest that by continuing to deny your guilt you are causing great hardship to your own family, and considerable annoyance to high and important persons in this country—
CATHERINE: That’s a disgraceful thing to say!
ARTHUR: … sir…
SIR ROBERT MORTON: (Leaning forward and glaring at RONNIE with the utmost venom.) I suggest, that the time has at last come for you to undo some of the misery you have caused by confessing to us all now that you are a forger, a liar, and a thief!
RONNIE: I’m not! I’m not! I’m not! I didn’t do it—
GRACE has flown to his side and envelops him.
ARTHUR: This is outrageous, sir—
Beat.
SIR ROBERT gathers himself together. The phone rings. MICHAEL answers the phone, speaks in a whisper, and hangs it up. SIR ROBERT starts toward the door and walks out into MICHAEL’s office. The CHAUFFEUR retires, touching his cap.
40. INT. MICHAEL’S OFFICE. DAY.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: (To DESMOND) May I drop you anywhere, Curry?
DESMOND: Er, no, I …
MICHAEL helps SIR ROBERT into a coat.
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Send all of his files here by tomorrow morning.
DESMOND: But, but will you need them now?
SIR ROBERT MORTON: Oh, yes. The boy is plainly innocent. I accept the brief.
He bows to ARTHUR and GRACE and CATHERINE, and nods as he leaves his chambers.
DISSOLVE TO:
41. INT. PRINT SHOP. DAY. (WINTER).
The stove, a fire in the stove. Snow outside the window. The EDITOR, in sweater and half mittens, puts up an editorial sheet and begins to mark it up. Fan off him to an editorial cartoon, pasted on the wall; it shows the exterior of a cheap travelers’ hotel and a sign on the outside reading: “No Children. No Pets. No Discussion of the Winslow Case!”
42. INT. HOUSE OF COMMONS. DAY.
An M.P. and a COLLEAGUE stand near the screen in the passageway between the two doors of the House of Commons. MEMBERS move past them.
ANGLE. A PACKED HOUSE.
A man, the FIRST LORD, in his sixties, is on his feet.
FIRST LORD: The Admiralty, during the whole of this long-drawn-out dispute, has at no time acted hastily or ill-advisedly, and it is a matter of mere histrionic hyperbole for the right honorable and learned gentlemen opposite to characterize the conduct of my department as that of callousness so inhuman as to amount to deliberate malice towards the boy Winslow. Such unfounded accusations I can well choose to ignore.
Interruptions.
ANGLE.
The COLLEAGUE and the M.P. at the screen.
M.P.: … votes to put the question …
SIR ROBERT comes from inside the House, and the two address him. The talk continues by the screen, in the corridor.
M.P.: (Cont’d. To Sir Robert) How important is it to you, Bobby?
SIR ROBERT MORTON: How important is it … Ah, well, it’s only important to win…
COLLEAGUE: … shouldn’t you be in the House …?
FIRST LORD: (Off) I repeat…
SIR ROBERT MORTON: … long’s he’s repeating himself, what am I missing out here? Look here: the thing of it is the Votes.
We hear the FIRST LORD continue offscreen.
FIRST LORD: (VO) Honorable Members opposite may interrupt as much as they please, but I repeat—there is nothing whatever that the Admiralty has done, or failed to do, in the case of this cadet for which I, as First Lord, need to apologize.
Further interruptions.
42A. INT. HOUSE OF COMMONS, LOBBY. DAY.
ANGLE.
On CATHERINE, as she enters the lobby of the House. She hears the FIRST LORD and stops, glances at her watch, and begins hurrying.
ANGLE.
On SIR ROBERT, the COLLEAGUE, and an M.P.
COLLEAGUE: Well, yes, well. What do you say to that, Tony, do we have the votes?
M.P.: Well, can you bring it to a vote, end of the day, it’s a fourteen-year-old boy…
ANGLE.
On CATHERINE hurrying down the hall. We hear the FIRST LORD going on in the BG.
42B. INT. HOUSE OF COMMONS. DAY.
ANGLE. ON THE FIRST LORD.
FIRST LORD: (Cont’d.) The Chief point of criticism against the Admiralty appears to center in the purely legal question of the Petition of Right brought by a Member.
ANGLE.
On SIR ROBERT et al. SIR ROBERT takes a sheet of paper from a COLLEAGUE, jots down a note, hands it to a SERGEANT AT ARMS, and points into the chamber.
ANGLE.
On SERGEANT OF ARMS as he proceeds into the House, past the rows of the seated members, toward the FIRST LORD.
FIRST LORD: (Cont’d.) A citizen seeking redress. On behalf of the Petition of Rights and the demurrer thereto. This member has made great play of this boy and of the Admiralty with his address and eloquence.
The note is handed to the FIRST LORD.
FIRST LORD: (Cont’d.) And I was moved, as any honorable member opposite, by his resonant use of the words “Let Right Be Done” …
SIR ROBERT looks up at the words.
ANGLE. ON THE FIRST LORD.
FIRST LORD: (Cont’d.) “Let Right Be Done” …
43. INT. HOUSE OF COMMONS, LOBBY. DAY.
ANGLE.
In the lobby, CATHERINE hurries up a staircase; a sign next to the staircase reads, “Women’s Gallery.” Various WOMEN descending the staircase, one nods to CATHERINE.
44. INT. HOUSE OF COMMONS, WOMEN’S GALLERY. DAY.
Several WOMEN, among them the SUFFRAGETTE from CATHERINE’s office, watching the proceedings. CATHERINE sits down behind the screen. The SUFFRAGETTE turns to whisper to her.
SUFFRAGETTE: No, you didn’t miss anything.
CATHERINE nods, takes two apples from her bag, hands one to the SUFFRAGETTE, and they both begin to eat.
CATHERINE takes a fruit knife from her pocket and cuts the apple. They look through the screen down at the FIRST LORD. We hear the FIRST LORD.
FIRST LORD: (Cont’d. VO) The time-honored phrase with which in his opinion the Attorney General should without question have endorsed Mr. Winslow’s Petition of Right. Nevertheless, the matter is not nearly as simple as he appears to imagine. Cadet Ronald Winslow is a servant of the Crown, and has therefore no more right than any other member of His …
ANGLE. INT. HOUSE OF COMMONS, FLOOR.
On SIR ROBERT. His eye is caught, he looks up.
FIRST LORD: (Cont’d.) Majesty’s forces to sue the Crown in open court. To allow him to do so would undoubtedly raise the most dangerous precedents. There is no doubt whatever in my mind that in certain cases private rights may have to be sacrificed to public good.
> CATHERINE picks up her notebook.
SUFFRAGETTE: He’s just been saying all the Great Crimes are Committed in the Name of Public Tranquillity.
ANGLE.
On CATHERINE, as she nods and starts to write in her book.
FIRST LORD: (Cont’d. VO)… this nation, this sea-girt, and this sea-dependent nation, which relies upon the Navy not only for …
Several REPORTERS and PHOTOGRAPHERS, lounging on the street in front of the House, stamping their feet to keep warm. They huddle around a stove. A NEWSPAPER BOY with a placard shouts out, “Winslow case latest.”
45. INT. WINSLOW HOUSE, RONNIE’S ROOM. NIGHT.
ANGLE.
On the trunk on which we see RONNIE’s name, but on which “Osbourne” has been painted out.
ANGLE.
On GRACE tucking RONNIE into his bed.
RONNIE: (Asleep) ’S everything alright, Mother?
GRACE: Everything is fine.
ANGLE.
On ARTHUR, as he comes into the doorway. He looks on at GRACE tucking RONNIE into bed. She comes over to him; they speak in whispers.
ARTHUR: I fancy this might be a good opportunity of talking to Violet.
GRACE: I’ll do it one day, Arthur. Tomorrow, perhaps. Not now.
ARTHUR: I believe you’d do better to grasp the nettle. Delay only adds to your worries—
GRACE: (Bitterly) My worries? What do you know about my worries?
ARTHUR: A good deal, Grace. But I feel they would be a lot lessened if you faced the situation squarely.
GRACE: (Pause) It won’t be easy for her to find another place.
ARTHUR: We’ll give her an excellent reference.
GRACE: That won’t alter the fact.
ARTHUR: (Sitting on RONNIE’s trunk) The facts, at this moment, are that we have half of the income we had a year ago and we’re living at nearly the same rate. However you look at it that’s bad economics—
GRACE: I’m not talking about economics, Arthur. I’m talking about ordinary, common, or garden facts—things we took for granted a year ago and which now don’t seem to matter anymore.
ARTHUR: Such as?
GRACE: Such as a happy home and peace and quiet and an ordinary, respectable life. There’s your return for it, I suppose. (She indicates the headline in the paper.) I can only pray to God that you know what you’re doing.
RONNIE stirs in his sleep. GRACE lowers her voice at the end of her speech.
