Scene 3

A Chapter by apj1465

The idea.

SCENE 3.

(The apartment. Early morning. A painting covered by a sheet lies on a chair. CAITLIN cries out off-stage and then Enters quickly wearing a dressing gown. She grabs a knife from the kitchen area and faces off-stage. MAN Enters.)

MAN.

(brightly.) Morning.

CAITLIN.

Oh it's you! (Annoyed.)What is it about you and bathrooms?

MAN.

(innocently.) I did say I might drop in.

CAITLIN.

You did, but most people usually use a door not a bathroom window.

MAN.

You know me, I thought I’d make it a little more exciting.

CAITLIN.

(Long pause, considering.) Did you bring chocolate?

MAN.

Err, no.

CAITLIN.

Not that exciting then. Care to explain what you are doing here and not out planning to steal a certain diamond for Julian? This had better not have anything to do with you and the Assistant Commissioner again.

MAN.

I need to sit down.

CAITLIN.

If you don't mind I'm going to finish getting dressed. (Seeing MAN about to sit down) And don't sit on the Modigliani!

Exit CAITLIN

MAN.

What's she nicked now? (Examines picture.) Hmm. (Beat.) I really don't see what she sees in this modern stuff. But I suppose I better take an interest.

Enter CAITLIN

CAITLIN.

Well? And it better be good?

MAN.

(pointing off-stage.) The painting over the fire place.

CAITLIN.

(distracted.) What about it?

MAN.

Didn't you have a Manet there before, a yellow one, with a purple squibble thing?

CAITLIN.

(patronisingly.) 'Yellow with a purple squibble thing'. It was a Monet and it's still there. It's a real Monet over-painted with a bad fake.

MAN.

I get it. 'The Thomas Crown Affair', the remake not the original, which I did think was better. (Pause.) Hmm.

CAITLIN.

Are you comparing me to Rene Russo?

MAN.

No.

CAITLIN.

Or Faye Dunaway?

MAN.

(slowly.) No.

CAITLIN.

(mimicking) Good.

MAN.

But -.

CAITLIN.

You'd get a good slap.

MAN.

Anyway, the truth.

CAITLIN.

That will make a change.

MAN.

I’m homeless.

CAITLIN.

Fire or flood?

MAN.

More a sort of inferior woodwork.

CAITLIN.

The police kicked your door in. It’s the Assistant Commissioner again. I knew it.

MAN.

He’s gone too far this time.

CAITLIN.

(sighs.) You break into their personnel files, deposit two hundred grand into his bank account and then tip off the papers about ‘bent coppers’ is how I think you phrased it?

MAN.

I thought that bit was a nice touch.

CAITLIN.

Apart from the fact most people thought you were speaking a foreign language. Anyway, you didn’t expect him to take that lying down did you?

MAN.

Most normal (with emphasis) ‘coppers’ would have given up trying to catch me long ago. A man’s got to know his limitations.

CAITLIN.

And it usually takes a woman to remind him of them. How long is this feud of yours going to go on for?

MAN.

He started it.

CAITLIN.

I think you started it when you stole that thingy.

MAN.

That 'thingy', was 'The Santasierres Folly' conservatively worth about ten million, and I would remind you, all the tabloids agreed it was the greatest jewel theft of the modern era. I sometimes think that in a world where everything is permissible, the only real truth in life is crime. Like a great painting, crime has a purity and simplicity that transcends any other form of human activity. In a way great crimes, and by that I don’t mean the robberies being committed by that bunch of lunatics rampaging across the continent at the moment, I mean the ones that require skill, daring and a certain panache, are the ultimate expression of the true artist. I seriously think there should be an exhibition somewhere. The Getty?

CAITLIN.

And what planet are you on today?

MAN.

I know I get carried away some times.

CAITLIN.

I really wish you would be.

MAN.

Sorry.

CAITLIN.

You're forgiven, but I think it's time you begin to face facts, you’re not getting any younger.

MAN.

I think this is where I make my cutting reply.