10 Little Indians - SCRIPT - Part #1

Now, I really think Tim Burton would do a GREAT adaptation of this based on how he directed "Sleepy Hollow." I have added small references throughout this script to Mr. Burton's work. Please let me know what you think. It will be in 8 parts.

"Ten Little Indians"

Screenplay by Ken Rogers
Based on “Ten Little Indians” by Agatha Christie

First draft 02/22/2014
Second draft 08/20/2015
Third draft 02/03/2016
Fourth draft 02/12/2016

The following are the characters in “Ten Little Indians”. I have put an actor next to the name I see playing the part as I wrote the screenplay.

Justice Wargrave – Ian McDiamond
Vera Claythorne – Mia Wasikowska
Captain Phillip Lombard – Richard E. Grant
Emily Brent – Maggie Smith
General Macarthur – Michael Gough
Dr. Armstrong – Johnny Depp
Anthony Marston – Jamie Campbell Bower
Mr. Blore – Timothy Spall
Mr. Rogers – Jackie Earl Haley
Mrs. Rogers – Helena Bonham Carter
Fred Narcott – Martin Landau
Sir Thomas Legge – Michael Caine
Inspector Maine – Vincent O’nofrio

FADE IN:

EXT. BOAT – EMMA JANE – DAY

Screen Reads - 1939

As the camera fades in from blackness to water we see the name "Emma Jane" painted on the side of a boat.

PAN UP TO:

A weathered old man of the sea, tired and dirty from his years of fishing is holding a bottle in one hand and documents he retrieved from that bottle in the other hand.

CUT TO:

EXT. BOAT/EMMA JANE – OLD CAPTAINS FACE – MORNING

As the Captain reads the letter we hear someone off screen ask him a question.
DECK HAND (Off screen)
Sir what is it?

The Captains eyes grow large, hands shaking from not having a morning drink, slowly turns toward the island surrounded in mist miles away…Indian Island. The Captain does not reply to the deck hand.

DECK HAND
Sir? Sir?
FADE TO:

INT. FIRST CLASS CARRIAGE – DAY

The trains smoke filled the air as it stormed past a sign that read "Somerset." Justice Wargrave looked down at his watch.

JUSTICE WARGRAVE (Under his breath)
Another two hours.

Wargrave looks outside the train window again and pulls a letter from his pocket. He continues to puff on his cigar. Wargrave is a reptilian old man, known in the press and court as the "Hanging Judge." This judge had the blood of countless prisoners on his hands. Sweat drips down from his grey slicked back hair. As Justice Wargrave opens the letter he continues to puff on his cigar. The letter cracks while opening as...

CUT TO:

INT. FIRST CLASS CARRIAGE – LETTER – WARGRAVES P.O.V. – DAY

The camera focuses on certain portions of the letter.
The handwriting was practically legible but words here and there stood out with unexpected clarity.

JUSTICE WARGRAVE (Off screen to himself)

Dearest Lawrence...such years since I heard anything of you...must come to Indian Island....the most enchanting place....so much to talk over...old days....communion with Nature....bask in sunshine...12:40 from Paddington....meet you at Oakbridge....signed her ever Constance Culmington.

CUT TO:

INT. FIRST CLASS CARRIAGE – DAY

Wargrave folded the letter back up, nodding a gentle approval and whispered with a smile.

JUSTICE WARGRAVE (Gently fond whisper)
Lady Constance Culmington...you would buy and island.

Wargrave allowed his head to nod to sleep.

FADE TO:

INT. THIRD-CLASS CARRIAGE – DAY

Vera Claythorne, attractive, schoolmistressy type shy but able to hold her own sat with five other travelers in a third-class carriage. Vera leaned her head back and shut her eyes. She waved a piece a paper back and forth in front of her face to cool herself off. Vera slowly stops fanning herself and looks at the letter she is fanning herself with and begins to read the letter to herself.

VERA (Reading to herself but not aloud)

I have received your name from the Skilled Women's Agency together with their recommendation. I understand they know you personally. I shall be glad to pay you the salary you ask and shall expect you to take up your duties on August 8th. The train is the 12:40 from Paddington and you will be met at Oakbridge station. I enclosed five pound notes for expenses. Yours truly, Una Nancy Owen.

The top of letter is stamped address INDIAN ISLAND, STICKLEHAVEN, DEVON.

Vera closes the letter and the train bounces up and down; everyone is uncomfortable from the heat and the ride.

Vera, tired by a recent strenuous term at school, thought to herself. Vera leans back and begins thinking of a stressful memory.

QUICK CUT TO:

EXT. THE SEA – VERA’S P.O.V. SWIMMING – DAY

A picture rose clearly before her mind. A boys head, bobbing Up and Down - Up and down......near rocks, and herself swimming toward him.

QUICK CUT TO:

INT. THIRD CLASS CARRIAGE – VERA – DAY

Vera opened her eyes and frowned at someone across from her as the carriage continued to bounce Up and Down.

CUT TO:

INT. THIRD CLASS CARRIAGE – PHILLIP LOMBARD – DAY

A tall man with a brown face, light eyes set rather close together and an arrogant, almost cruel mouth. A man who has seen some interesting parts of the world and seem some interesting things.

Phillip Lombard, summing up the girl opposite him to be quite attractive. He returned the frown then glanced out the window of the bouncing train. Then thought to himself

PHILLIP (Casually to himself)

A hundred guineas, eh? (Stroking Moustache) No longer than a week? I can't undertake anything - illegal? (Smiling) If illegal I will withdraw. Indian Island? With that, Lombard patted his breast pocket.

Vera noticed Lombard patting his pocket. She wondered what he was smiling about and - what was in that pocket.

FADE TO:

INT. NON-SMOKING CARRIAGE – DAY

A sign saying NON-SMOKING is on the wall and across from the sign we see Miss Emily Brent sitting upright as was her custom. She was sixty-five, but looked older, and she did not approve of lounging. She sat there enveloped in an aura of righteousness and unyielding principles; Miss Brent sat in carriage and triumphed over its discomfort and heat. Miss Brent’s lips pursed.
Mentally she reread the letter which she had already read so many times.

MISS EMILY BRENT (Mentally)

Dear Miss Brent, I do hope you remember me? We were together at Bellhaven Guest house in August some years ago, and we seemed to have so much in common. I am starting a guest house of my own on an island off the coast of Devon. I think there is really an opening for a place where there is good plain cooking and a nice old-fashioned type of a person. None of this nudity and gramophones half the night. I shall be very glad to see your way to spending your summer holiday on Indian Island - quite free as my guest. Would early August suit you? Perhaps the 8th. Yours sincerely, U.N. Miss. Brent peered out the window impatiently thinking to herself.

MS. BRENT (Softly - thinking)

What was the name? Maybe Oliver? Yes - Oliver.
Then something made her smile.

MS. BRENT
I shall be getting a free holiday, and Oliver.

Then a frown came to her face with the sound of the train horn.

CUT TO:

EXT. EXETER TRAIN STATION – DAY

A large sign on the building clearly reads EXETER.
Various people of all ages are boarding and un-boarding the train.

CUT TO:

INT. THIRD CLASS CARRAIGE – DAY

General Macarthur looked out of the carriage window as the train pulled up. Another man sitting his carriage politely interrupted the Generals thoughts.

MAN SITTING ACROSS FROM MACARTHUR
Where are you heading?

Macarthur thought for a moment still looking out the window. He looked and dressed like a General with his perfected imperial mustache.

MACARTHUR
Indian Island. Meeting with some old friends and enjoy chat about old times.

CUT TO:

EXT. SALISBURY PLAIN – DAY

Dr. Armstrong driving his Morris across the Salisbury Plain. Dr. Armstrong was very tired....success had its penalties. A man’s life working so hard with no time for leisure. Dr. Armstrong in his mid-fifties, handsome, and even though overworked and stressed he still had his youthful good looks.
CUT TO:

INT. DOCTOR ARMSTRONGS CAR – DAY

Dr. Armstrong looks to his right on the passenger seat. Passenger seat is cluttered with medical books, except one, the book stands out, Washington Irving’s – Sleepy Hollow, and a doctor’s bag with papers sticking out. Also large odd looking spectacles hang off to the side of bag with other interesting, but curious doctor’s tools. One paper vaguely familiar to the other letters the previous people received sticks out. Dr. Armstrong grabs the familiar letter.

Dr. Armstrong smiles as he looks at a smaller piece of paper, a check written for a large amount. There is also an article Armstrong has written and in bold letters it reads, Sardines or Herring by Dr. J.W. Armstrong.
Dr. Armstrong continuing to smile puts the check back.

ARMSTRONG

These Owens must be rolling in money. Mr. Owen I will take good care of your wife.

Armstrong hits the accelerator and speeds through the crooked roads of the Salisbury Plain.
CUT TO:

EXT. SALISBURY PLAIN – DAY

Dr. Armstrong’s car passes a field with a small abandoned gothic looking church.

ARMSTRONG (V.O.)
Nerves! These women and their nerves!

Dr. Armstrong’s car speeds out of the picture into the camera.

CUT TO:

EXT. MERE – DAY

Out of the camera Tony Marston’s roaring down into Mere driving a Dalmain.
CUT TO:

INT. TONY MARSTAN’S CAR – DAY

There is a large amount of sweat coming down from his forehead. He is a young bronzed god; he gets through life by his good looks and strength. Tony wipes his forehead with a cloth.

CUT TO:

EXT. MERE – DAY

Tony passes by a Pub and quickly turns his sports car around.

TONY MARSTON (Excited V.O.)
I would love a gin and ginger beer. Fizzling HOT day!
Tony peels his Dalmain into the parking lot.
CUT TO:

EXT. PUB PARKING LOT – DAY

Tony parks the car and exits, he stretched himself, yawned, looked up at the blue sky. Several young women looked at him admiringly - his six feet of well-proportioned body, his crisp hair, tanned face, and intense blue eyes. There are some young and old men admiring Tony’s sports car from a distance.

TONY MARSTON
A drink to Indian Island and the Owens.

Tony happily enters the pub.

CUT TO:

INT. TRAIN CARRIAGE – DAY

Mr. Blore sits quietly in a slow train from Plymouth. There was only one other person in his carriage, an elderly sea-faring gentleman with a bleary eye. At the moment he had dropped off to sleep. Mr. Blore, a very overweight, blunt ex C.I.D. man was writing carefully in a little notebook.

MR. BLORE (Muttering to himself)
That's the lot.

Moving his pen down the list of name he continues to mutter to himself.

MR. BLORE
Emily Brent, Vera Claythorne, Dr. Armstrong, Anthony Marston, Old Justice Wargrave, Philip Lombard, General Macarthur, C.M.G., D.S.O. Manservant and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.

Blore closed the notebook and looked out the window of his carriage and then to the slumbering man across from him.

The elderly man sleeping looks disheveled in his matching filthy black and white pin striped jacket and pants, an odd outfit Blore thought to himself. And that pale white face with stringy brown hair turned greasy grey. Two beetles scurried around the old man’s feet.

Blore smiled in a bit of disgust and looked back out window.

MR. BLORE
Had one over the eight.

Blore then pats his round belly and smiles. Then stands up and scrutinized himself anxiously in the glass.

MR. BLORE (Cont. quietly)
Job out to be easy enough (he ruminated) don’t see how I can slip up on it. Hope I look all right.

There was of a slightly military cast with a handlebar mustache. There was very little expression in it. The eyes were gray and set rather close together.

MR. BLORE (Cont.)
I might be a major. (Pause thinking to himself) No, I forgot. There's that old military gent, Macarthur. He'd spot me at once. (Thinking)

Looking down then as if a lightbulb went off in his head he knew who to impersonate.
Then the old man snorted and coughed in his sleep across from him.

MR. BLORE (Cont.)
South Africa! That's my line! None of these people have anything to do with South Africa, and I've just been reading that travel folder so I can talk about it all right.

He glances toward a file of folders.

MR. BLORE (Cont.)
Yes, South Africa to Indian Island. Curious to see its resemblance to a man’s head - an American Indian profile.

A moan and gruffle came from the waking elderly man.

ELDERLY MAN
You can’t ever tell at sea - never!

Blore confused, but agreed.

BLORE (Soothingly)
That's right. You can't.

The old man hiccupped twice.

ELDERLY MAN (Plaintively)
There's a squall coming.

BLORE
No, no, mate, it's a lovely day.

ELDERLY MAN (Angrily)
There's a squall ahead. I can 'smell' it

The train stopped at a station and Blore watched the man rise unsteadily. He also noticed the old man’s tongue is black.

BLORE (Pacifically)
Maybe you're right.

Seeing the old man fumble Blore assists him.

ELDERLY MAN
This is where I get out. A bear of day ahead.

He fumbled with the window then realized it was not the door. The old man turned and stood in the doorway. He raised a solemn hand and blinked his bleary dark rimmed eyes.

ELDERLY MAN (Cont.)
Watch and pray. A bear of a day. The Day of Judgment is at hand.

He then collapsed through the doorway onto the platform. From a recumbent position he looked back up at Mr. Blore.

ELDERLY MAN (Immense dignity)
I'm talking to 'you', young man. The Day of Judgment is very close at hand.

Turning away from the Elderly man Blore shook his head as he sat in his seat.

BLORE
You're nearer the day sir than I.
CUT TO:

EXT. OAKBRIDGE STATION – DAY

Vera Claythorne, Emily Brent, Lombard & Wargrave all stood waiting with various other people. Then a man pipes up.

DRIVER (Off screen)
Jim!

The driver of one of the taxis stepped forward.

DRIVER (In a soft Devon voice)
You'm for Indian Island, maybe?

Four voices gave assent - and then immediately afterwards gave quick surreptitious glances at each other.

DRIVER (To Wargrave)
There are two taxis here, sir. One of them must wait till the slow train from Exeter gets in - a matter of 5 minutes - there's one gentleman coming by that. Perhaps one of you wouldn't mind waiting? You's be more comfortable that way.

Raising her hand, Vera spoke at once.

VERA
I'll wait. If you will go on.

Vera looked at the other three; her glance and voice had that slight suggestion of command in them that comes from having occupied a position of authority.
Miss Brent walked to the first taxi.

MISS BRENT (Stiffly)
Thank you.

Miss Brent entered the taxi. Wargrave followed her.

LOMBARD
I'll wait with Miss - - - - (Looking at Vera confused)

VERA
Claythorne.

LOMBARD
My name is Lombard, Phillip Lombard.

The porters were piling luggage on the taxi as Wargrave enters.
CUT TO:

INT. TAXI – DAY

Miss Brent sits upright looking over the Taxis dirty appearance as Wargrave enters she swings at a wasp buzzing around her.

WARGRAVE
Beautiful weather we are having.

Miss Brent looking at Wargrave thought to herself a distinguished old gentleman.

MISS BRENT
Yes indeed.

She kills the wasp in front of Wargrave his smile reveals a devilish side.

WARGRAVE
Ah, good show. Do you know this part of the world well?
MISS BRENT
I have been to Cornwall and to Torquay, but this is my first visit to this part of Devon.

WARGRAVE
I am also unacquainted with this part of the world.
They both look forward as the taxi started.
CUT TO:

EXT. OAKBRIDGE STATION – DAY

The taxi with Wargrave and Miss Brent pulls away leaving the second taxi stationary with Lombard and Vera standing next to it. Vera waves to Wargrave and Miss Brent who do not notice because they are amidst conversation. The second driver walks up to them.

SECOND DRIVER
Like to sit inside while you're waiting?
VERA
Not at all.
LOMBARD (Smiling)
That sunny wall looks more attractive. Unless you's rather go inside the station?

VERA
No, indeed. It's so delightful to get out of that stuffy train.

LOMARD
Yes, traveling by train is rather trying in this weather.

VERA (Conventionally)
I do hope it lasts - the weather, I mean. Our English summers are so treacherous.

She looks away shy.
LOMBARD (Slight lack of originality)
Do you know this part of the world well?

VERA (Quickly & determined)
No, I've never been here before. I haven't seen my employer yet.

LOMBARD
Your employer?
VERA
Yes, I'm Mrs. Owen's secretary.

LOMBARD (More assured - easier in tone)
Oh, I see. Isn't that rather unusual?

VERA (Laughing)
Oh, no, I don't think so. Her own secretary was taken ill and she wired to an agency for a substitute and they sent me.

LOMBARD
So that was it. And suppose you don't like the post when you've got there?

VERA (Laughing)
Oh, it's only temporary - a holiday post. I've got a permanent job at a girls' school. As a matter of fact, I'm frightfully thrilled at the prospect of seeing Indian Island. There's been such a lot about it in the papers. Is it really fascinating?

LOMBARD
I don't know I haven't seen it.
Surprised, Vera looks away - intrigued.

VERA
Oh, really? The Owens are frightfully keen on it, I suppose. (Turning back to Lombard) What are they like? Do tell me.

Lombard thought awkwardly with a pause. Looking down Lombard notices a wasp on Vera’s arm.

LOMBARD
There is a wasp on your arm.
CUT TO:

EXT. WASP - DAY

Lombard moves hand in quickly as the wasp quickly flies away unharmed.

LOMBARD (Off screen)
There it is gone.
CUT TO:

EXT. OAKBRIDGE STATION – DAY

Vera grabs her arm where Lombard almost pounced. Vera looks around for the wasp and also back at the train tracks.

VERA
Oh, thank you. There are a lot of wasps about this summer.

LOMBARD
Yes, I suppose it's the heat. Who are we waiting for, do you know?

VERA
I haven't the least idea.

The loud, drawn-out scream of an approaching train was heard. Lombard looks in the direction of Vera.

LOMBARD
That will be the train now.
FADE TO:

EXT. OAKBRIDGE STATION – DAY

Macarthur exited to the platform. His gray hair was clipped close and he had a neatly trimmed white moustache. His porter, staggering slightly under the weight of the solid leather suitcase, indicated Vera & Lombard.
Vera came forward in a competent manner.

VERA
I am Mrs. Owen's secretary. There is a car here waiting. (Motioning to Lombard) this is Mr. Lombard.

The faded blue eyes, shrewd in spite of their age, sized up Lombard. For a moment Macarthur showed judgment - had anyone read it? Macarthur thinks to himself there is something wrong with this good-looking fellow.

MACARTHUR
Hello sir.

PUSH IN/MORPH SLOWLY ON MACARTHURS BLUE EYE

Lombard says nothing.
TRANSITION:

INT. TAXI – DAY

MATCH DISSOLVE/MORPH out of the same Macarthur eye, but we here the taxi zooming through the streets of Devon.

MACARTHUR
Don't know this part of Devon at all. My little place is East Devon - just on the borderline of Dorset. And you both?

With a smile on her face Vera looks out the window.

VERA
It really is lovely here.

VERA
The hills and the red earth and everything