BLIND TRUST

"BLIND TRUST" 

FADE IN:

EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE, 1983 -- EVENING

A typical house in a pleasant suburban neighborhood.

Spielberg country.

INT. BENOIT HOME -- EVENING

Whack!

A pick axe slams into a sofa, barely missing MELINDA BENOIT.

Sixteen, pretty, and athletic, Melinda scrambles over the

sofa, escapes the swinging pick axe. She runs to...

INT. BEDROOM -- EVENING

Slams the door closed, no lock, wedges her body against it.

Scared to death.

INT. BENOIT HOME -- EVENING

The KILLER climbs over the sofa in pursuit.

We can't see the Killer's face, only the garden gloved hands

holding the pick axe and an occasional flash of long hair.

The Killer SLAMS his body against the bedroom door.

INT. BEDROOM -- EVENING

Melinda scoots as the door is forced a few inches open.

She presses back on the door, closing it.

WHAM! It's slammed open again.

Melinda tries pressing it closed, but the Killer's gloved

hand reaches in and grabs her. Yanks on her hair. Melinda

screams and slams the door closed on the Killer's hand.

INT. BENOIT HOME -- EVENING

The Killer withdraws his hand, raises the pick axe.

2.

INT. BEDROOM -- EVENING

The door SPLINTERS over Melinda. She screams, scrambles away.

Spots the telephone on the night stand, crawls to it as the

pick axe splinters away at the door.

In the bed, her parents MR. & MRS. BENOIT lay dead.

Melinda grabs the (rotary) phone, starts dialing 911.

The door rips open, the Killer enters, pick axe swinging.

Melinda lets go of the phone, hides under the bed.

The Killer hits the hang up bar on the phone, returns handset

to cradle, reaches under the bed for Melinda.

Melinda crawls away from the searching hand.

She crawls to the left side of the bed, the gloved hand

reaches in from the left.

She crawls to the right side of the bed, the hand reaches

from the right.

In the center of the bed, out of reach of the sides. Safe.

Until the gloved hands grab her ankles and YANK her out from

under the bed. Melinda screams as the pick axe falls.

EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE, 1983 -- EVENING

A siren screams as a Santa Mira sheriff's car pulls up.

INT. BENOIT HOME -- EVENING

A pair of SHERIFFs cautiously enter the house, guns drawn.

Used to breaking up domestic disputes and making sure drunks

don't drive home, they aren't prepared for all of the blood.

Sitting on the floor, singing a childish lullaby, is YOUNG

ROGER Grandfort. Fifteen years old, long hair, baby faced.

Clothes blood stained, the pick axe lays on the floor nearby.

YOUNG ROGER

(sings lullaby)

Hush little dreamer, off to sleep.

No reason to fear the shadow's creep.

Drift little sleeper, off to dreams.

Slumber through the midnight screams...

(CONTINUED)

3.

SHERIFF #1 keeps his gun on Young Roger as SHERIFF #2 looks

into the bedroom... almost gets sick.

SHERRIFF #2 (O.S.)

Roger? Roger? What have you done?

Young Roger keeps singing the lullaby as Sheriff #1 and

Sheriff #2 cuff him, and lead him away from the carnage.

EXT. GRANDFORT HACIENDA -- DAY

Elegant, secluded. The Grandfort family built Santa Mira,

and lives in the single story palace on the outskirts.

INT. LIVING ROOM -- DAY

Small town Attorney DON LARRUE paces across from wealthy

widow MRS. GRANDFORT, who relaxes on a divan.

MRS. GRANDFORT

But Roger says he's innocent.

Attractive, early forties, she's used to getting her way.

Unhappy at this situation.

LARRUE

Ruth, he was at the house...

MRS. GRANDFORT

He went to see that daughter of theirs,

found them all dead.

LARRUE

He had the victim's blood on his

clothes...

A servant, CASSY, enters with a tray of iced tea and glasses.

MRS. GRANDFORT

Thank you, Cassy. You may leave.

She pours a glass from the pitcher.

MRS. GRANDFORT

Iced tea?

LARRUE

No.

(beat)

Roger has been in trouble before.

(CONTINUED)

4.

MRS. GRANDFORT

Drugs, drink, brawling. Youthful

indiscretions. Nothing like this.

Why would he want to kill that girl?

LARRUE

She was two months pregnant. His

child, he admits it. Maybe she refused

to get an abortion. Wanted him to

marry her. I don't know, and Roger

isn't talking.

MRS. GRANDFORT

He said he's innocent.

LARRUE

Melinda put up a hell of a fight.

Scratched the killer. Had his blood

under her fingernails. Roger's blood.

MRS. GRANDFORT

How can you know that?

LARRUE

The Benoit family are Type A, Roger

is O negative.

Mrs. Grandfort sets her iced tea down. Worried.

LARRUE

The blood evidence ties him to the

crime. So does the murder weapon.

It was the pick axe from your shed.

(beat)

He brought the weapon with him. That's

premeditation.

MRS. GRANDFORT

Do you think he did this?

LARRUE

(reluctant)

Yes.

MRS. GRANDFORT

My God.

(beat)

What should I do?

LARRUE

The DA's going to try him as an adult,

maybe even go for the death penalty.

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

5.

LARRUE (CONT'D)

(beat)

I'm good for contracts and wills, but

Roger's going to need a big gun lawyer

for this. Someone like F. Lee Baily.

MRS. GRANDFORT

I don't know.

LARRUE

You can afford it. He's your son.

MRS. GRANDFORT

Is he? How could my son do something

like this? My own flesh and blood.

Larrue touches her shoulder, then leaves.

EXT. COURTHOUSE -- DAY

Flashbulbs pop nearby.

TIGHT ON:

TV news REPORTER in front of the courthouse.

Commotion in the back ground.

REPORTER

After deliberating for less than an

hour, the jury has found fifteen year

old Roger Grandfort guilty of three

counts of first degree murder.

Courtroom sketch of Young Roger.

REPORTER

Even though these were the most brutal

killings in the history of Santa Mira,

in fact, in the history of Kern County,

Judge Hitchcock's sentence of life in

prison without the possibility of

parole showed great leniency.

Courtroom sketch of the judge.

REPORTER

This young man will...

(commotion)

They're bringing him out of the

courtroom, now.

Young Roger in shackles. Microphone thrust in his face.

(CONTINUED)

6.

REPORTER

Roger, do you have any...

YOUNG ROGER

I didn't kill those people. Tell my

mother I'm innocent. Mother?

INT. LIVING ROOM -- DAY

Mrs. Grandfort turns off the news report.

Pain changes to determination. Resolve.

MRS. GRANDFORT

I don't have a son anymore.

She packs the last photos of Young Roger into a box, gestures

for Cassy to take the stack of boxes.

MRS. GRANDFORT

Cassy, put these things in storage.