James Brighton Society, Chapter 4: Pages 5-6
Page 5, 6 Panels- Front Entrance/2nd Floor, D.C. Metro Police Precinct/Library, Georgetown/Arlington Virginia
Panel 1: We cut back to a shot of the Detective standing in the same position that we saw her in in the second to last panel of the previous page. She gives a slight shrug at the question, denoting a lack of knowledge. Her hand already reaching into the inner pocket of the light brown coat to pull out her notebook.
DET. RANDOLPH [to Officer Reese]: He's busy. Last I heard, he was in the pubic library in Arlington looking for evidence. Besides, the two of us should be enough backup for something as basic as interviewing people.
Panel 2: Action shot of the beat cop making his way to the lift door at the end of the desk that leads out to the precinct's main lobby. He looks over in the direction of the Detective who he's meeting with a degree of understanding, grabbing the jacket that lies on the chair behind him as he speaks.
OFFICER REESE: What if we need backup? You told me the guy had one of those retractable sword things. That'd do pretty nicely in a fight. DET. RANDOLPH [Off-Panel]: I've got a way to contact him, if that ever comes up. And before then...
Panel 3: Same setting/layout as Panel 1. Ms. Randolph smiles, revealing her holstered retractable metal longbow that is strapped to her belt. You can see her notebook also gripped in her right hand, along with the section of coat needed to reveal the former action. In the background, as was the case in the previous page, you can see an officer passing them by moving from left to right in the panel view.
DET. RANDOLPH [Cont.]: There's always Asesino. We'll be alright!
Panel 4: Cut to a shot of a library reading area. There's a row of three tables that extend from the center of the shot over to the top of the panel view where you can see one of the nondescript stacks of books behind him. There's a smattering of people seated on each of the tables, a half-dozen adults in all, reading at that moment.
Panel 5-6: A two-part set of panels that moves to a different section of the same basement floor where the periodicals are located. In Panel 5, Grem is seen (with messenger bag in tow) thumbing through a stack of newspapers located on the far left corner of the panel view. A few beats later, in Panel 6, the Irishman gets a firm grip of a dozen of the periodicals and starts to turn toward one of the tables. In the background of each shot, you can see one of the helper CWs start to walk up to his position at that same moment.
Page 6, 5 Panels- Library, Arlington Virginia
Panel 1: Action shot of Mr. Allen walking over to the table with the stack of newspapers gripped firmly in hand. The sound of clanking emanating from the CW that we saw in the background of the last panel of the previous page can be heard off-panel. You can also see a rack of other newspapers from different parts of the state as well as D.C. in the background.
GREM [thought bubble]: There's something here...just gotta find it.
Panel 2-4: A three-part set of panels, taken over the course of many minutes, that centers on one of the tables a minute after Panel 1 where Grem has taken the newspapers and started to read. With each panel you can see three separate piles (the left-unread, the center-currently read, the right- already read) where the newspapers occupy.
GREM [Cont., thought bubble; Panel 2]: So far, all I've learned about from the Arlington Gazette are well known troop movements in Europe, local crime blotter and the latest numbers of some food drive for the troops. GREM [thought bubble, Panel 3]: The Hollywood gossip columns are funny though, if not daft and completely inaccurate on some points. Maybe the Society pages can-- GREM [thought bubble, Panel 4]: Bingo!
Panel 5: Close-up on the immortal inventor a split second later. He tilts his head forward to get a better look at the article that caught his eye in the previous panel. His right hand already lifting underneath the printed page in preparation to lift it.
GREM [in the middle of a brain flash]: I know that pasty-arsed face anywhere...Sir Reginald Jones III!