Casablanca Page #4

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WOMAN:

All right.

On to another table where two CONSPIRATORS talk.

CONSPIRATOR:

The trucks are waiting, the men are

waiting. Everything is...

He stops abruptly as two German officers walk by.

A REFUGEE and another MAN converse at another table.

MAN:

It's the fishing smack Santiago. It

leaves at one tomorrow night, here

from the end of La Medina. Third

boat .

REFUGEE:

Thank you, oh, thank you.

MAN:

And bring fifteen thousand francs in

cash. Remember, in cash.

On the way to the bar we pass several tables and hear a

Babel of foreign tongues. Here and there we catch a

scattered phrase or sentence in English.

SACHA, a friendly young Russian bartender, hands a drink to

a customer with the Russian equivalent of "Bottoms Up." The

customer answers with "Cheerio."

CARL, the waiter, is a fat, jovial German refugee with

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spectacles. He walks, tray in hand, to a private door,

over which ABDUL, a large, burly man, stands guard.

CARL:

Open up, Abdul.

ABDUL:

(respectfully)

Yes, Herr Professor.

Abdul opens the door and Carl goes into the gambling room.

INT. RICK'S CAFE - GAMBLING ROOM - NIGHT

Their is much activity at the various tables. At one table

TWO WOMEN and a MAN play cards. They glance at another table.

One of them calls to Carl.

FIRST WOMAN:

Uh, waiter.

CARL:

Yes, Madame?

FIRST WOMAN:

Will you ask Rick if he'll have a

drink with us?

CARL:

Madame, he never drinks with

customers. Never. I have never

seen him.

SECOND WOMAN:

(disappointedly)

What makes saloon-keepers so

snobbish?

MAN:

(to Carl)

Perhaps if you told him I ran the

second largest banking house in

Amsterdam.

CARL:

The second largest? That wouldn't

impress Rick. The leading banker in

Amsterdam is now the pastry chef in

our kitchen.

MAN:

We have something to look forward to.

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CARL:

And his father is the bell boy.

Carl laughs.

The overseer walks up to a table with a paper in his hand.

Then we see a drink and a man's hand, but nothing more. The

overseer places a check on the table. The hand picks up the

check and writes on it, in pencil, "Okay-Rick."

The overseer takes the check.

We now see RICK, sitting at a table alone playing solitary

chess. Rick is an American of indeterminate age. There is

no expression on his face -- complete deadpan.

There is a commotion at the door as people attempt to come

into the gambling room. He nods approval to Abdul.

Then a GERMAN appears in the doorway. Abdul looks to Rick

who glances back toward the open door and nods "no".

Abdul starts to close the door on the man.

ABDUL:

I'm sorry sir, this is a private room.

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