Good-bye, sweetheart

{Ned Racine, on the phone, in a conversation with Matty Walker down in Miami.  We don't see her; the Camera's POV is on Ned, sitting in his law office.}

NED:  In -- the boathouse.

MATTY:  That's right.  The top drawer of the dresser.  Oh Ned, we're going to be all right!  I'll leave here as soon as I can.  I should be there by seven-thirty.  I can't wait to see you, darling.  We've made it!

He's silent.

MATTY:  Are you all right?

NED:  Yeah.

MATTY:  Good-bye sweetheart.

EXT.  BOAT HOUSE - WALKER PLACE -- NIGHT.

Racine, walking across the emerald expanse of lawn.  Toward the boathouse.  Around to the front, & he steps onto its wooden porch. 

Night sounds:  frogs; crickets; bird-calls.  Chirp, twitter, a creaky background chorus -- the sounds you hear only if it's a quiet night....

Racine's focus is on the doorknob of the closed door.  But he moves past it to the window.  The curtains have been carefully drawn across it; it is impossible to see beyond them into the boathouse.  Except ... except for one little slice at the bottom of the window where the curtains are held apart a fraction of an inch by something.  Racine bends down to look through the crack.

WHAT RACINE SEES.  The curtains are being held apart this little bit by a wire.  A wire which is attached to the window and runs tautly back into the gloom of the boathouse.  Racine shifts his head an inch and he can see another wire.  It originates from that same spot back in the dark, and runs toward the door, though with this limited view he cannot actually see where the wire is attached.  But he is not really trying to see any more --

The expression on his face is that of a stricken man.

("This broad came to me.  She said that you wanted another one.")
(..."Goodbye Sweetheart"...)

-----------------------
Body Heat screenplay, Lawrence Kasdan, screenwriter.

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