Red Riding
Blue blue skies. Fluffy white clouds drift... Down through
the clouds to the dusk over the doleful city. The red sun
RED RIDING:
NINETEEN SEVENTY FOUR
3 EXT. DAWSON CONSTRUCTION SITE, DEVIL’S DITCH - NIGHT 3
A silent, frozen night. We are drawn as in a nightmare - down
a lane signposted to: DEVIL’S DITCH... Past half-built houses
and dormant earth moving vehicles. Everything iced over... A
white feather flutters on the ground... Down into the
building site...
To the black trough of the foundations. We glimpse: in the
very bottom amongst the rusting rods embedded in concrete -
the lovely head, shoulders and wing of A DEAD ANGEL.
WAKEFIELD:
The Year of Our Lord 1974
The image scratches. The colour bleeds.
4 OMITTED 4
5 INT/EXT. VIVA / M1 MOTORWAY - DAY 5
Rain sluices across the windscreen. Sparks on the radio:
“This town ain’t big enough for the both of us...”
A stuffed holdall on the back seat. A black jacket sways from
a hook. 5 inch lapels. An old wrist watch on the dash. Fag
smoked down to the tip - used to light a fresh one.
EDDIE DUNFORD - youthful, ambitious, libidinous. Elongated
shirt collar and kipper tie. Booming down the M1. Headed
North. Singing along.
He checks the time.
EDDIE:
F***.
F***ed and he’s only just started. He drives like a demon.
1974.TG.170808 Locked Draft - 1st Revision
2
6 INT. CONFERENCE ROOM, WAKEFIELD POLICE STATION - DAY 6
Eddie, late and sweating. Editor, BILL HADLEY, grey beard,
grey eyes, is talking to an owlish, bespectacled man -
DETECTIVE SUPERINTENDENT MAURICE JOBSON. Hadley looks
pointedly at his watch.
HADLEY:
Sorry to hear about your father,
Edward.
EDDIE:
Thanks, Mr. Hadley. He had a good
innings.
HADLEY:
(to Jobson)
This is Detective Superintendent
Jobson. Mr. Dunford’s hoping to be
the Post’s new Crime Correspondent.
They shake hands.
MAURICE JOBSON:
I’ve always got along very well
with Jack Whitehead...
EDDIE:
(gritted teeth)
Good old Jack.
HADLEY:
Mr. Dunford’ll be standing in.
Trial period.
Jobson watches Eddie head through the smoky room packed with
beery JOURNOS. TV lights, notebooks, memo recorders.
MAURICE JOBSON:
Local man?
HADLEY:
Cut his teeth at our Yorkshire
Post. Been down South.
MAURICE JOBSON:
Young Turk, then.
HADLEY:
Made a pig’s ear of it down there
as I understand.
Eddie shoves his way down a row of chairs. Faces he knows and
who we’ll meet later. An old girlfriend mouths ‘hello’ spaniel
eyes - KATHRYN TYLER.
EDDIE:
Kath.
1974.TG.170808 Locked Draft - 1st Revision
3
Eddie sits beside BARRY GANNON - skinny, single, obsessed.
BARRY:
She’s serious. Sad eyes never lie.
EDDIE:
F*** off, Barry. That’s history.
BARRY:
Here, funeral’s in 2 hours. It’s
going to be tight.
EDDIE:
We’ll make it.
BARRY:
How’s your mother?
EDDIE:
You know, bearing up.
BARRY:
Yorkshire lass through and through.
EDDIE:
(checks round)
Where’s Whitehead?
BARRY:
Jack? On the piss probably. Don’t
worry, son, you got your legs well
under the table. Just do the job.
EDDIE:
Yeah. F*** him. He’s not getting in
on this one.
BARRY:
Aye up, the Owl’s on.
Up front, Maurice Jobson takes the stage with DETECTIVE CHIEF
SUPERINTENDENT BILL MOLLOY - late 50s, a big man, a dangerous
man. They flank a POLICE WOMAN and a crumpled couple: MR. and
MRS. KEMPLAY.
Beside them is an enlarged school photograph of a smiling 10
year old girl against a backdrop of a blue sky with fluffy
white clouds. We recognise her as the Dead Angel. Eddie
switches on his memo recorder.
MAURICE JOBSON:
Gentlemen, it’s been a long night
for everyone, especially Mr. and
Mrs. Kemplay. So we’ll keep this
brief. At about 4 p.m.
(MORE)
1974.TG.170808 Locked Draft - 1st Revision
4
yesterday evening, 3rd September,
Clare Kemplay disappeared on herway home from Morley Grange Juniorand Infants. Clare is ten yearsold. She was wearing an red kagool,
a dark blue turtleneck sweater,
pale blue denim trousers and redWellington boots. When Clare leftschool, she was carrying a plasticCo-op carrier bag containing a pairof black gym shoes... Mrs. Kemplaywould now like to read a short
statement. Thank you.
MAURICE JOBSON (cont'd)
Jobson turns the mic towards MRS. KEMPLAY. Camera flashes.
Poor cow.
BARRY:
EDDIE:
“If it bleeds, it leads,” right?
(a nasty thought)
Reckon dad did it?
MRS. KEMPLAY
I would like to appeal to anybodywho knows where my Clare is or whosaw her after yesterday teatime toplease telephone the police. Clareis a very happy girl and I know shewould never just run off withouttelling me. Please, if you knowwhere she is or if you’ve seen her,
please... please... please...
Chokes. Can’t go on. The POLICEWOMAN comforts her.
Eddie is transfixed by Mrs. Kemplay’s distress.
7 INT. VIVA, M1 MOTORWAY - DAY 7 *
Eddie’s watch ticks away the seconds on the dash. Back on the
M1. Barry alongside him. He works out his copy aloud:
*
*
EDDIE:
“The mother of missing ten year oldClare Kemplay made an emotionalplea...”
*
*
*
*
Barry stills him with a brotherly hand. *
BARRY:
“As fears grew, a mother made anemotional plea...”
*
*
*
8 OMITTED 8 *
1974.TG.170808 Locked Draft - 1st Revision 5
9 INT. DEWSBURY CREMATORIUM, CREMATOR - DAY 9 *
A coffin slides into the incinerator. Gas ignites. Everything
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"Red Riding" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Mar. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/red_riding_22>.
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