The Grifters Page #4

EXT. RUIDOSO DOWNS - DAY

Late afternoon. AN ANGLE on the parking area, where almost

all the cars are gone and the few remaining are widely

separated. The white Chrysler is one of these. Lilly walks to

it from the track entrance.

AN ANGLE on the Chrysler as Lilly opens the trunk, puts her

bag inside.

CLOSE UP, Lilly and the trunk. She takes betting tickets from

her bag, sorts them, files them in envelopes in different

compartments, puts some to one side, then sorts through these

separated tickets, throwing some away, keeping some. She

takes money from the bag, puts tickets in, closes the bag

with the money on the trunk floor. Reaching farther in, she

lifts the pad deep inside the trunk, lifts the metal floor

panel, and reveals a cache mostly filled with money. She adds

today's skim, puts everything away, puts the bag back on her

shoulder, closes the trunk.

EXT. MADERO APARTMENTS - DAY

A shabby apartment hotel on Wilshire. An exterior hall

balcony on each floor has the entrance doors to the front

apartments. Roy's Honda makes the turn and enters the

basement garage.

INT. MADERO LOBBY - DAY

Modest but clean. The owner, SIMMS, a sloppy garrulous old

bore, talks with a potential RENTER.

SIMMS:

Put it this way, now. Say I rent to

a woman, well, she has to have a

room with a bath. I insist on it,

because otherwise she's got the

hall bath tied up all the time,

washing her goddamn hair and her

clothes and everything she can

think of.

In b.g., Roy, still in pain, comes out of the elevator, waves

to Simms, who waves back without pausing in his monologue,

and crosses to the mailboxes.

SIMMS:

Now, your minimum for a room with

bath is three hundred a month, just

for a place to sleep and no cooking

allowed.

And just how many of these tootsies

make that kind of money and have to

eat in restaurants and buy clothes

and --

Roy, carrying his junk mail and pretending not to be in pain,

crosses to Simms.

ROY:

Mr. Simms.

SIMMS:

(fawning)

Why yes, Mr. Dillon. Here's a

potential new neighbor, looking at--

ROY:

(uninterested)

Uh-huh. Mrs. Langtry may drop by.

Simms doesn't like Mrs. Langtry, but can't say so.

SIMMS:

I'll send her right up.

Roy goes back to the elevator. Simms continues his monologue.

SIMMS:

I had my first hotel thirty-seven

years ago in Wichita Falls, Texas,

and that's where I began to learn

about women. They just don't make

the money, you see, not regular

they don't, and there's only one

way they can get it.

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