Sam is grabbing the walls of the fridge. Water from the defrosted freezer compartment drips on his head. He wakes up …
Sam is grabbing the walls of the fridge. Water from the defrosted freezer compartment drips on his head. He wakes up. Before he can really take in where he is the phone rings. He staggers over to it.
SAM Hello... hello... PHONE VOICE Hello. Mr. Lowry?
SAM Who's that? (pause) A sound at the kitchen door turns Sam's head and ours just in time to half see a quick blurred movement, but then a rapid voice in his ear-piece brings his head back.
PHONE VOICE Put the phone down and your hands up.
SAM (into the phone) What? Who is this?
Sam realises that the voice is also in the room behind him. He turns round and sees Tuttle.
Tuttle is middle-aged, a short tough figure dressed in dark clothes suggesting a cross between a cat burglar and a night-raid commando. In one hand he holds a gun pointed at Sam. The other hand is holding a telephone receiver which Tuttle is in the act of placing in the large capacious bag at his feet. Sam puts down his phone, and his hands up.
TUTTLE Nice and easy now. Keep your hands where I can see them.
SAM What is this? (indignantly) Who the hell are you?
Tuttle, keeping the gun on Sam, goes to different doors, leaning backwards into bedroom, bathroom and closet. Tuttle suddenly relaxes and pockets his gun.
TUTTLE Harry Tuttle. Heating engineer. At your service.
SAM Tuttle! Are you from Central Services?
TUTTLE Ha!! SAM But... I called Central Services.
TUTTLE They're a bit overworked these days. Luckily I intercepted your call.
By now, both are pouring with sweat. Tuttle heads across the room and swiftly begins to undo a wall panel.
SAM Wait a minute, what was that business with the gun? Tuttle hands Sam the panel and plunges his arm into the space behind it.
TUTTLE A little precaution, sir. I've had traps set for me before now. There are people in Central Services who'd love to get their hands on Harry Tuttle.
SAM Are you saying this is illegal?
By now Tuttle has managed to pull out some sections of flexible ducting from the welter of mechanical offal behind the removed panel. It is all very complicated and greasy and it looks as though there is a lot more where that came from. Tuttle is amazingly neat and deft as he works. A real pro. As he works he hums a wee tune... yes... "BRAZIL"!!
TUTTLE Well, yes... and no. Officially, only Central Service operatives are supposed to touch this stuff... Could you hold these. (he hands Sam a bunch of wires that he has detached) ... but, with all the new rules and regulations... unncgh, c'mon, c'mon... they can't get decent staff any more... so... they tend to turn a blind eye... as long as I'm careful. (he hands Sam a torch) ... Mind you, if ever they could prove I'd been working on their equipment... well, that's a different matter... up a bit with the torch, sir.
SAM Sorry. wouldn't it be easier just to work for Central Services?
TUTTLE Couldn't stand the pa.. Ah, we're getting warm
SAM The pace?
TUTTLE The paperwork, couldn't stand the paperwork. (indicating the torch) Over to the left please, if you don't mind sir. Hold it there. Yes, there's more bits of paper in Central Services than bits of pipe read this, fill in that, hand in the other listen, this old system of yours could be on fire and I couldn't even turn on the kitchen tap without filling in a 27B/6... Bloody paperwork.
SAM (mildly) Well I suppose one has to expect a certain amount
TUTTLE Why? I came into this game for adventure go anywhere, travel light, get in, get out, wherever there's trouble, a man alone.
Now they've got the whole country sectioned of and you can't move without a form. I'm the last of a breed. Ah ha! Found it! (he holds up a small charred gadget) There's your problem.
SAM Can you fix it?
TUTTLE No. But I can bypass it with one of these. He pulls another gadget from his bag.
SAM Fine. The door bell. Tuttle grabs for his gun.
TUTTLE Are you expecting anyone?