them: An intense WOMAN. A RUSSIAN man with a scraggly beard. A surly BLOND MAN, who monitors a Geiger counter. All wear heavy parkas against the gray cold.
BLOND MAN
Can anyone make out the registry?
WHAT THEY ARE WATCHING: A distant SALVAGE SHIP, moored inside the harbor. Its hoist is swung out over the sea. Floodlights illumine salvage divers as they submerge with hoist cables.
RUSSIAN MAN
illuminates SEBASTIAN CAINE, late twenties with
the shabby good looks of a perpetual grad-student. Wiry
framed and wearing only boxer shorts, Sebastian sips
coffee from an Einstein coffee mug. He peers at a
complex computer rendered molecule displayed on his
screen. He pecks a few keys and the molecule shifts
slightly, then falls apart.
Sebastian pulls a twinkie from a hostess box, unwraps
illumination. Eventually we reach the upper levels of a plush shopping precinct.
INT. SHOPPING PRECINT - NIGHT
Xmas decorations are everywhere. PEOPLE are busy buying, ogling, discussing, choosing wisely from the goodies on display. SHOPPERS are going by laden with superbly packaged goods... the shop windows are full of elaborately boxed and be-ribboned who-knows-what. In one window is a bank of
The boy looks up, confused and frightened, concerned to see his mother crying in public. She looks at him tenderly.
Her brow furrows. She stops crying. She stares just above his eyes.
Somethings happening: she looks with wonder at the top of his head... his eyes roll upward, trying to see - its a crown!
He raises his hands. He touches it.
A beam of light illuminates the crown, casting its glow
daylight, moonlight,
Israelites,
Fanny by the gaslight.
Take a bag, come on.
I took one home last night -
cost more than ten pound,
I can tell you.
Anyone like jewellery?
Look at that one.
Hand-made in Italy,
hand-stolen in Stepney.
Its as long as my arm,
not like something else.
Dont think cause these boxes
are sealed, theyre empty.
nly the undertaker
sells empty boxes.
By the look of you lot, I