bree has shifted position to a window, is looking down at the street. she sees - and we hear - sound of bus approaching, distantly. she grabs her properties, whips out the door.
it is late afternoon, but bree is in her pajamas curled up in her bed. there are some magazines scattered around the bed and the television set is on an old movie. there are cracker crumbs in the bed and a cup of coffee and an open jar of peanut butter with the knife sticking out of the jar on the floor by the bed. it would seem that bree has spent most of the day in bed. she looks like an unkempt child. the phone is ringing, but she does not answer it. the phone no sooner stops than the door bell rings. reluctantly she gets out of bed and goes to the door. she looks through the spy hole and sees klute's face. she undoes two locks and an obviously new chain and bolt and opens the door.
a downshot to underpants -- then a flashbulb goes off and a hand and pair of tongs enter frame and flip the garment into a collecting box and we widen to reveal that it's now daylight and the scene has been invaded by police technicians. one is a photographer; another, a fingerprint man, is spraying surfaces with a can of fixative. in the foreground klute and trask are talking with ross, the fbi man. ross is looking through a dossier on cable that klute has compiled. over the following conversation we show closeups of material in the dossier. it contains photographs of cable and his life from childhood to the present - including pictures of him with his mother and father - she a very dominant looking lady and he a very passive looking man; also graduation pictures and pictures with his former wife taken when he was still a very young man. they are the personal images of a life time.
entering without greeting trask she quickly gathers up a few properties, a change of shoes.
the room is still disordered. bree and frank ligourin look at him, silently. bree has been assembling armfuls of dresses to carry away with her. frank sits nearby in a chair. klute smiles a little -- almost apologetically.
past klute to bree. she is running away from him again, to a corner of the apartment, fumbling at a sewing basket. he starts in, after her.