The Singer at Penn Station: A Script Based on a True Story

By Josephine deBois

Back in New York, Sergeant Samuel is demoted to work in the traffic police. He is teamed up with Huang, an experienced and deeply religious police officer. At Penn Station in New York, Samuel comes across Olis, a brilliant but illegally performing street singer with no memory of his past. As the goodhearted Samuelagainst the advice of Huangdecides to help Olis, he gradually becomes embedded in a complex case with its roots in the Vatican. With the help of Melera, a top gang leader deeply conflicted by being abused as a boy serving the church, Samuel uncovers how the servants of the church, driven by greed and deep, dark instincts, ruthlessly exploit innocent and loving individuals, who are driven to insanity. He also uncovers how the cardinal Marchetto Caccini with all meansincluding modern sciencespursues the highest positions in the church. At the end, the good-hearted Samuel is faced with the choice of either following his heart or revealing the horrifying secrets of the cardinal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524563264

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Copyright © 2016 by Josephine deBois.

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Library of Congress Control Number:   2016919475

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5245-6328-8

                Softcover        978-1-5245-6327-1

                eBook             978-1-5245-6326-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Rev. date: 11/29/2016

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Dedicated to

Sam,

the singer at Penn Station in New York,

who inspired this story.

Newark Airport Landing Strip, Early Morning

Early morning in a New York airport. The sky is dark. The first bar of the overture from Pearl Fishers abruptly fills the space. As it does so, a Korean Air plane becomes visible, first as a small point that gradually transitions to the sight of the airplane floating graciously through the sky.

Music carries over.

Onboard the Korean Air Flight

Sergeant Samuel (thirty-five; slim; average height; fit; Caucasian; black, filling, backcombed hair, part of which easily falls forward; agile; fast-talking with strong body language; tight lips; rather large nose; burning, intelligent eyes; casually and lightly dressed) is in deep sleep. He was upgraded to a window seat in the very front of the plane. A friendly Korean female flight attendant wakes Samuel by gently touching his arm and reminds him to fasten his seatbelt. Samuel raises his seat, fastens the seatbelt, lifts the blind from the window, looks out at the emerging day, and watches Manhattan graciously passing by. He leans back, closes his eyes, and goes back to sleep.

Music carries over.

New York Airport Landing Strip, Early Morning

The plane makes its final approach. The roaring sound from the plane gradually drowns the music. The flight touches down and passes right through the picture with an immense machine sound that completely overshadows the music. As the flight passes, the noise fades over the quiet runway and the rising sun on the horizon.

Newark Airport Passport Control, Early Morning

Samuel, with his luggage, is in line for immigration control. Without looking at Samuel, a passport control officer (forty-five, Italian descent, slightly overweight) waves for Samuel to come forward. Samuel presents his passport, landing papers, and police ID. Realizing Samuel is a colleague, the officer smiles and happily greats Samuel.

PASSPORT CONTROL OFFICER. Welcome back, Sergeant. How was it out there?

SAMUEL (smiling, yet exhausted). Very interesting.

PASSPORT CONTROL OFFICER. You were in the capital?

SAMUEL. In the countryside.

PASSPORT CONTROL OFFICER (stamping Samuel’s papers). It should be beautiful. The girls as well, I heard!

SAMUEL. More than beautiful … magic!

PASSPORT CONTROL OFFICER. So, did you find … ?

Samuel shakes his head, in reality to shake the thought from his mind.

PASSPORT CONTROL OFFICER. Well, have a good one.

The passport control officer hands Samuel his paperwork. Samuel hides a slight sadness behind a polite smile and continues through the passport control area.

Newark Airport Taxi Stand, Early Morning

Samuel enters a Yellow Cab in front of the arrival area.

SAMUEL. One twenty West Side, please. I’ll direct you from there.

The Yellow Cab leaves the airport area.

Outside New York City Apartment Building, Early Morning

The Yellow Cab stops in front of an old apartment building. Samuel steps out of the cab, walks up to the front door, finds his keys deep in the carry-on, opens the front door, and enters. Samuel walks upstairs. At the fourth floor, he stops by the entrance to an apartment. He tries to unlock the door, but his key does not fit. He tries a couple of times. Still unsuccessful, he knocks softly on the door. With no response, he knocks harder and impatiently. Finally, steps are heard from the inside. The door is slowly opened slightly but still chained. Gabriella (thirty, average height, Caucasian, well-shaped, sexy), dressed in a colorful, half-open bathrobe, looks out at Samuel with significant hostility while holding the door tight.

SAMUEL. Hi, honey. Can I come in, please?

GABRIELLA. I am sorry, Sam. Who do you think you are, leaving me like this and then just showing up?

SAMUEL. Come on, I told you. It’s business.

GABRIELLA. Business. You have no business anymore. You were fired. Everybody knows, Sam. Don’t try to fool me.

Samuel looks into the apartment and notices the door at the end of the corridor being silently closed.

SAMUEL. It was business. And, honey, I was transferred to another unit, not fired.

GABRIELLA. Well, mister, why is it then that when I call your station, I’m told that you have time off. Don’t you think I know what kind of business you are doing in Korea? How stupid do you think I am? Of course I know what you are doing out there, sergeant!

Gabriella slams the door right in front of Samuel’s nose. Samuel pulls the doorknob and tries to open the door.

SAMUEL (shouting through the door). I need my things!

GABRIELLA (shouting through the door). Send me your new address, sergeant. All your stuff will be shipped; at your expense.

SAMUEL. Gabriella, honey, please let me in.

GABRIELLA. Good-bye, sergeant. Thanks for the good years. Don’t treat your next woman like this. I know what she looks like—those willing women out there!

Gabriella’s steps are heard as she walks from the front door. A door inside the apartment is slammed closed. The front door to the neighbor’s apartment is opened slightly and again closed. Samuel stands for a moment by the door. He walks downstairs and exits to the street.

Outside New York City Apartment Building, Early Morning

Samuel stands a moment in front of the building, pondering.

SAMUEL (talking to himself). Good heavens, why I am doing this?

Samuel is about to walk up the street when a window in the apartment is opened. Samuel looks up and sees a small suitcase being thrown out of the window and fly dangerously toward him. He steps aside. The suitcase hits the sidewalk right next to him and breaks open. Some of Samuel’s clothes fall out of the suitcase and spread over the sidewalk. The apartment window is closed loudly. Samuel looks up. The window opens again, and a single pair of socks is thrown out, floating like leaves through the air, and lands softly next to Samuel. The window is again closed loudly. Samuel collects his socks and clothes in the suitcase. He looks up and notices spectators in the neighbor’s window. He starts walking up the street.

New York City, Restaurant, Day

Samuel enters the restaurant, a simple place with an extension out on the sidewalk. He is the first guest of the day. Susanna Selina (thirty-eight, Italian descent, black curly hair, very well-shaped, average height, lovingly charming and forthcoming) is behind the counter, starting the coffee makers and other equipment for the day. She recognizes Samuel as he takes a seat at a table by the window and places his suitcase and carry-on under the table. Samuel sits, thinking while looking out of the window at the adjacent park and the few people passing by. Susanna walks over to the table.

SUSANNA. Finally back? (She looks at the luggage under the table.) What’s going on?

SAMUEL. Well, as you see—

SUSANNA. Let me get you some coffee.

Susanna walks over to the counter and fills a mug with hot coffee. She toasts a bagel, pours a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, quickly fixes a scrambled egg, and brings it all on a tray to Samuel. She takes a seat opposite Samuel, puts her elbows on the table, rests her head on her folded hands, and watches him. Samuel tastes the coffee and starts eating slowly. From time to time, he looks the sympathetic Susanna in the eyes.

SUSANNA (leaning forward and speaking softly). I knew it, Sam. I saw her several times with this guy. She even dared to come here with him.

SAMUEL. Who is he?

SUSANNA. No idea, but I can find out. (She pauses while watching Samuel regain his appetite.) But where on earth have you been?

SAMUEL. In Korea. Just landed.

SUSANNA. But why on earth?

SAMUEL. It was the case I was working on.

SUSANNA. But they all say you were fired? Or that you are with another unit now, something like that? The traffic police, they say.

SAMUEL. Yes, the traffic police. I have to report there tomorrow. (He pauses and points at the luggage under the table.) So I need a place—now!

SUSANNA. You should have told me. There’s nothing I can do now, you know.

SAMUEL. I know.

SUSANNA. I have today’s local paper. You may find something.

Susanna picks up the local newspaper from behind the counter and puts it on the table in front of Samuel. A young, well-dressed, very loving couple—obviously after a long night together—enters the restaurant. Susanna smiles seductively at Samuel as she walks over to take their orders. Samuel, distracted into loneliness by briefly watching the loving couple, opens the paper. Determined that life must go on, he browses through the classifieds. His eyes catch a small ad: Available immediately—single room, good location, Upper West Side.

SUSANNA (having served the couple, walks over to Samuel.) Anything?

SAMUEL. Maybe. Can I borrow your phone for a moment? Mine is out of power.

Susanna hands Samuel her cell phone. He dials a number. More guests enter the restaurant. Susanna busily takes orders. The call goes through. A feeble woman’s voice answers.

VOICE ON THE PHONE. Hello.

SAMUEL(talking softly). I am calling regarding your advertisement. Is the room still available?

VOICE ON PHONE. Yes. Still there.

SAMUEL. Is it available right away?

VOICE ON PHONE. Yes, immediately.

SAMUEL. And the address?

VOICE ON PHONE. It is on Ninety-Sixth.

SAMUEL. Yes, and the number? (The connection becomes bad with a static sound blurring the voice. Samuel looks at the phone; the battery is nearly dead.) Excuse me, what was the number?

VOICE ON PHONE (interrupted by static). Two-

SAMUEL. (to the dead end). I will come over immediately.

The connection is lost. Susanna comes to the table.

SUSANNA. Anything?

SAMUEL. Something very close, perhaps. I lost the connection. Not sure I got the number right.

SUSANNA. And where?

SAMUEL. On Ninety-Sixth. I believe she said Forty-Two West. (He pauses.) Can you keep my stuff here for a bit? I just want to run over there.

Susanna nods. Samuel leaves a few dollars on the table, puts the luggage behind the counter, and leaves the restaurant while Susanna is busily serving many newly arrived customers.

New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, In Front, Day

Samuel walks down Ninety-Sixth Street looking for house numbers. He stops by Forty-Two West, watches the building with some doubt, walks up to the entrance with some hesitation, and rings the bell. Myojie Sunim (sixty-five; a small woman; round, childish face; dressed in the light, gray attire of her nun order) opens the door slightly. As soon as Samuel sees Myojie, he turns to walking back to the sidewalk while apologizing for intruding.

SAMUEL (surprised). Oh, sorry. I must have gotten the address wrong. So sorry to disturb you. Sorry.

MYOJIE. No problem, sir. You are welcome at any time here.

Samuel looks up at the barely readable number on the house.

SAMUEL. Tell me, is this Forty-Two West?

MYOJIE. Yes, it is. What number are you looking for?

SAMUEL. Well, I am looking for a place where there should be a room for rent. I’m not quite sure of the number, except that it should be here on Ninety-Sixth somewhere.

MYOJIE. We do have a room for rent.

SAMUEL. Well, I better …

MYOJIE. Come in, and let me show you.

Myojie opens the door and steps aside. Reluctantly, Samuel enters the building.

New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Staircase, Daylight

Samuel enters the narrow corridor that is richly decorated with pictures from Korea. Myojie points to a small shelf for shoes. Samuel takes his shoes off and puts them on the shelf among numerous shoes. Myojie directs Samuel to follow her up a narrow staircase. At the very top, they stop by a door. Myojie opens the door and directs Samuel to enter before her. Samuel enters the room, followed by Myojie.

New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Small Room Facing The Street, Day

Samuel looks around the very small, dull, and completely empty room. He goes to the window facing the street. The noise from the traffic is strong. Myojie, clearly sympathetic with the polite and friendly Samuel, watches with some disappointment his lack of enthusiasm for the small room.

SAMUEL. Unfortunately, I think this is a bit too small for me. I need something a bit more quiet too.

MYOJIE. Oh, what a pity, sir.

SAMUEL. Well, the location is good, but—well. Thank you so much anyway.

MYOJIE (somehow hesitant). Do you have a lot of stuff?

SAMUEL. Almost nothing.

MYOJIE. We do have another room on the other side, and it is quite big. (She pauses.) It has not been emptied, and, well, strictly speaking, it is still rented out. If you don’t mind, though, it might work for you. We can always give you another room should the tenant show up. But that may not happen.

SAMUEL. Well, that could work for me.

MYOJIE. Do you want to see it?

SAMUEL. Sure.

Myojie directs Samuel to leave the room first. He exits, and Myojie follows. She softly closes the door to the room.

New York, New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Staircase, Day

MYOJIE. We have to go downstairs. Follow me, please.

Samuel follows Myojie down the narrow staircase. One floor down, she stops in front of a door to a room on the back of the house. She opens the door and makes space for Samuel to enter.

MYOJIE. After you!

Samuel enters the room.

New York, New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Back-Facing Room, Day

Samuel enters the spacious, high-ceilinged room. Plenty of light shines into the room from a large window facing the back of the building with a view to a well-kept garden with large trees providing comfortable shade. A door in the left corner of the room leads to a bathroom. Along the wall to the left of the entrance is a small, rudimentary kitchen. The wall to the right side of the room closest to the large window boast floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. An upright piano stands next to the bookshelves. A pile of scores, mostly classical, sits atop the piano. A single score is open. A small, antique Korean commode with numerous small drawers and richly decorated with Korean characters is standing to the left side of the room. A tatami mat and a few pillows are behind a screen that shades light from the window. Some open books are lying on the few empty spaces of bookshelves otherwise packed with books and Korean antiques and porcelain figures. A few sheets of paper, pens, and pencils are placed in meticulous order on a small, cherrywood table in the middle of the room. Myojie watches Samuel attentively as he explores the room with significant excitement.

SAMUEL. This is very nice, but is somebody living here?

MYOJIE. Well, not really. The room has just not been emptied. If you don’t mind, there may be space enough. (She pauses.) I mean, as long as we can just leave the things as they are, it should be okay.

SAMUEL. Okay, I will not touch. But to whom do the things belong?

MYOJIE. It was a young woman living here—Korean. It was not long ago.

SAMUEL. She won’t mind?

MYOJIE. Not at all. I know for sure. She is from a temple there. We share—like one soul.

SAMUEL. One soul?

MYOJIE. Yes, we are like one spirit.

SAMUEL. And where is she now?

MYOJIE. Back in Korea, where she belongs, in a temple. Maybe one day she will come back, but we will take it from there. (She pauses.) You can have it for the same price as the other room.

SAMUEL. And how much?

MYOJIE. It’s $1,400. No smoking, and nothing loud—the spirits.

Myojie smiles, lifts her arms with the palms up, and closes her eyes for a short moment.

SAMUEL. Well …

Samuel hesitates a bit while doing the math in his mind. Myojie notices Samuel’s hesitation.

MYOJIE. From time to time, you may join us for food downstairs. It’s free, and there are classes you can join.

SAMUEL. Classes?

MYOJIE. Our master gives classes. Meditation. (Myojie notices Samuel’s expression of being lost.) Fitness classes for the mind.

Samuel smiles for the unusual offers.

SAMUEL. Well, okay, then. Spiritual fitness and food. Should we sign a contract?

MYOJIE. No need, sir. You just pay me.

SAMUEL. Okay, then.

Samuel takes the money from his wallet and hands it to Myojie. She puts the money in her pocket and hands Samuel a key.

MYOJIE. This is the key for the house. You will need it in the evenings. During the day, the door is open.

Myojie directs Samuel to exit the room. She follows him to the narrow staircase.

New York, New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Staircase, Day

Samuel follows Myojie down the staircase. Two floors down, Myojie stops by a door. She opens the door halfway and invites Samuel to look through. Inside, along the entire side of the room, is a Buddhist altar, rich with brightly illuminated golden figures. Two young, traditionally dressed Korean women are bowing in front of the altar with great concentration and focus. Myojie cautiously and softly closes the door.

MYOJIE. There are people coming and spending the whole day like this, but you won’t be disturbed.

SAMUEL. So, it is a real temple in here?

MYOJIE. Yes, it has been here for many years. It is a sacred place.

SAMUEL (positive and smiling with astonishment). I see—beautiful. What a coincidence!

MYOJIE. Well.

Myojie walks down the narrow staircase. Samuel follows. At the lowest floor, Myojie opens the door to a large, empty room. Along the sides are numerous piles of pillows and mats. Samuel looks into the room over the shoulders of Myojie.

MYOJIE. In here are meditation classes from time to time.

SAMUEL. A beautiful room.

Myojie closes the door. They continue through the narrow corridor and stop by the main door to the street. Myojie bids Samuel good-bye.

MYOJIE. And yourself—what do you do, if I may ask?

SAMUEL. I am a police officer. I work for one of the units nearby. I should have told you immediately.

MYOJIE. Not a problem, sir. I sensed that.

SAMUEL You sensed?

Myojie smiles, bows slightly, and politely opens the door. Samuel takes his shoes from the shelf and bows slightly. Myojie smiles to the happy Samuel as he exits the building.

New York, Restaurant, Morning

Samuel enters the restaurant. All the guests have left. Susanna is busily cleaning the tables and preparing for the lunch visitors. Samuel takes a seat at his usual table.

SUSANNA. How was it? Did you get it?

SAMUEL. I did.

SUSANNA. And?

SAMUEL. Very nice place—well, perhaps a bit unusual.

SUSANNA. Unusual?

SAMUEL. It was a nun who takes care of the place.

SUSANNA. A nun?

Samuel gets slightly insulted.

SAMUEL. Yes. What’s wrong with that?

Susanna takes seat by the table and briefly touches Samuel’s hand.

SUSANNA. Well, Sam, this is perhaps not exactly what you need at this time. Don’t you think it is time to find a woman? Something simple, Sam. A nun? My goodness!

SAMUEL. Well, it’s a nice place. (He pauses.) I better get my stuff here over there.

SUSANNA. I sent it all to the dry cleaner. All your stuff. Joe picked it up.

SAMUEL. But you don’t need to …

SUSANNA (interrupting). He owes me something. He will bring the whole lot to your place. Ninety-Six, right?

SAMUEL. No, Forty-Two.

SUSANNA (picks up the paper still on the table). But in the paper here, it says Ninety-Six.

SAMUEL. Oh, why didn’t I see that in the first place?

SUSANNA. You need some sleep, Mr. Jet Lag.

Samuel ponders for a moment, starts walking to the exit, turns around, ponders, and finally attempts to convince himself things are okay and that he can go with the flow.

SAMUEL. Well, whatever it says, send the stuff to number Forty-Two.

Samuel walks toward the exit.

SUSANNA. Don’t forget my favorite tea. I may visit you there soon. I better see how you are doing there with the nun!

Samuel exits the restaurant. Susanna continues cleaning tables.

New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Room Facing Back, Evening

Exhausted, Samuel enters the room carrying a couple of large paper bags of groceries. He notices his suitcase placed right inside the door. Too tired to prepare food, he unpacks the groceries in the small kitchen. He walks around in the room and carefully watches the interior. He looks behind the screen by the window for a place to sleep. Next to the tatami mat he finds a blanket, spreads it over the tatami mat, and looks in vain for a pillow. He finds a piece of wood to put under his neck as a pillow. He lies down with all his clothes on and his head atop the wooden pillow. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

Several Hours Later

Samuel, completely uncomfortable and exhausted, rises on his elbows on the tatami mat. He looks around, remembers the pillows in the meditation room, rises, and exits the room to the narrow staircase.

New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Staircase, Night

Samuel ensures nobody is around and quietly walks down the narrow staircase. He reaches the door to the meditation room, opens it quietly, and looks in.

New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Meditation Room, Night

Samuel steps quietly inside the meditation room. In the middle of the room, barely visible in the dim light, is a young woman in deep meditation, sitting in a yoga position with her back and left side to the entry. The woman is dressed in a white gown that spreads over the floor around her. Her long, black hair falls along and over her shoulders and merges with the white gown. The side of her young face is visible from the entrance to the room. Samuel sees the pillows inside the room along the wall behind the woman. He tiptoes over to the wall and grabs a pillow. The woman does not move. Samuel tiptoes back to the entrance. As he is about to exit with the pillow, he stops for a moment and watches the tranquility, harmony, and beauty of the meditating woman. A slight, barely visible halo appears around the head of the woman. The completely exhausted, jet-lagged, and groggy Samuel rubs his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief as he silently withdraws from the room.

SAMUEL (whispering to himself). My goodness. What a beauty. Maybe I am really missing something.

New York, Forty-Two West Ninety-Sixth Street, Room Facing Back, Evening

Samuel enters with the pillow from the meditation room. He lies down on the tatami mat with the pillow under his head. Totally relaxed, relieved, and inspired by the tranquility of the meditation room, he instantly falls asleep. As he sleeps, the light flows around the dimly illuminated room, over the piano, the commode, the Korean books, the writing desk, and the Korean notes on the writing desk. In a brief moment, the room transitions in Samuel’s dream to the old, desolated Korean temple and Chu-jin (twenty-three, Asian with Korean characteristics [Western look from the side, Asian look from front], tall, slim, and long, dark hair) in a long white gown. With her long black hair falling over her shoulders, she walks toward a back door in the old temple and fades out of sight. Samuel smiles in his sweet dream while an almost invisible shadow hovers over the objects in the room before the room fades into total darkness.

New York, Police Station, Upper West Side, Briefing Room, Day

About fifteen police officers, all in their official uniforms, are gathered for the early morning briefing. Sergeant Jack Johansen (forty, large, fit, black, team leader) is leading the briefing. Samuel is standing next to Jack. Jack lifts his hands for silence with a huge, friendly smile. The room becomes quiet.

JACK. Morning, folks. Let me start by introducing Samuel. He has been transferred to us as of today. (Turns to Samuel.) So, welcome, Samuel. We are delighted to have you with us.

Jack turns to Samuel and shakes hands wholeheartedly with significant strength, almost shaking the whole of Samuel. He then applauds. All the police officers follow suit, rise, and applaud.

JACK. Folks, Samuel comes from a different kind of work, so we will have to give him a good start. (He pauses and turns to the police officers.) Anything to report? Philip, why don’t you start?

Philip (thirty, fit, slim, medium-sized, Caucasian) rises.

PHILIP. Nothing unusual, boss. Two arrests—homeless folks—a few girls over on the avenue as usual. All released this morning.

JACK. Great. Anything else, anybody? (Looks around.) Well, folks, in this place, no news is good news.

In the back row, Huang Chu (fifty, Chinese descent, trending toward overweight, thinning hair, medium height, friendly and jolly fellow) raises his hand and stands up. Huang has a big bruise on his chin and around his eye.

JACK. Yes, Huang. What happened to you?

HUANG. It became a bit rough with the gamblers. One of the guys would not stop; he became pretty violent.

JACK. And where is he now?

HUANG. Not sure. He slipped away.

JACK. We have to get to the bottom of that gang.

HUANG. Certainly. Those guys control more and more down there. They control and frighten everybody.

JACK. Looks like you need a quiet day. (Looks around.) So, folks, if there’s nothing else, let’s move. Huang, why don’t you take Samuel with you and scan the train station? Something peaceful for you today. Folks, we have some complaints—too many homeless, beggars, noisy musicians. All the usual stuff. Clean up a bit. Cameras on! Be nice. Right. So move.

The police officers all get up. Jack shakes hands again with Samuel. Huang walks over to Samuel and Jack.

HUANG. Samuel, I am Huang. Come with me.

Huang and Samuel shake hands. Jack pats Samuel on his back.

JACK. You are in good hands. See you guys later.

Huang and Samuel exit the briefing room.

New York, Police Station Parking Space, Day

The police officers disperse themselves among the police cars in the parking lot at the front of the station. Huang and Samuel approach one of the cars.

HUANG. This one.

Huang and Samuel enter the car, with Huang in the driver’s seat. They exit the station area.

New York, Police Car, Day

Huang and Samuel are driving downtown. As they pass the Lincoln Center, Samuel watches attentively. Huang, in a good mood, notices Samuel’s interest.

HUANG. So what were you doing before?

SAMUEL. I was looking for missing people. That kind of stuff.

HUANG. I heard you were on a big case.

SAMUEL. You are right. It was a missing professor. His wife worked at the music hall.

HUANG. Did you figure it out?

SAMUEL. Yes and no.

HUANG. Did you find the guy?

SAMUEL. No, but I believe I found out what was going on. That’s the yes part.

HUANG. What happened?

SAMUEL. Not sure, Huang. Somehow, somebody did not want to know what was going on. That’s what I think.

HUANG. You’ll have to tell me another time. We are here, Sam. Is it okay if I call you Sam?

SAMUEL. Fine. I call you Hu then.

Samuel and Huang laugh as they instantly feel their good chemistry. They enter a small parking area by Penn Station. They park and exit the car.

New York, Penn Station, Parking Area, Day

Huang and Samuel exit the police car parked among several police cars guarded by a couple of police officers.

HUANG. We are here. (He points to the officers around.) They look after the cars. Let me make sure you are wired up. It’s probably not what you are used to in your secret missions.

Huang checks Samuel’s microphone and camera and demonstrates the settings.

HUANG. So, when the switch is in this position, you are connected to me. In this position, you are connected to the crew in the main hall. Okay? I will show you when we pass. And here you switch the camera on. Keep it on all the time, right? Let’s move.

Huang and Sam enter the train station.

New York, Penn Station, Main Hall, Day

Huang and Samuel enter the main hall in Penn Station and walk over to Dion (thirty-five, tall, well-built, black), the police officer on guard.

HUANG. Dion, this is Sam. He has joined our unit. He will be with me the next couple of days here.

Dion shakes hand with Samuel.

DION. Great! Welcome, Sam. You folks better get going. There is quite some cleaning up needed here. (He points around at several homeless sleeping on the floor.) More and more of these folks. Better get down in the corridor by the shops and the shopping area. (He points.) All this music down there. Not allowed! Stop it! Get rid of it!

HUANG. Okay, okay. Come on, Sam. Let’s walk around.

Huang and Samuel walk in the direction of the homeless in the main hall.

New York, Penn Station, Shopping Hallway, Day

In a side hallway to the main shopping is Olis (about thirty-five; very slim and fragile due to years of malnutrition; Italian; dark hair; sparkling eyes; carrying a filthy hat and suit; overcoming all fragility and exhaustion with the power, inspiration, and total devotion to the music). He is preparing for his next song with a small crowd of spectators anxiously waiting.