IF LOOKS COULD KILL
Sales Clerk: That's our Sweet Youth basic blush, Virgin Pink. Would you like to try?
Norma Dean: Very pretty.
Clerk: Mm-hmm. And look, a matching eye shadow.
(The camera shows things blurred, a bit 'off' from natural, perhaps being partially a hallucination of Norma's)
Clerk: How about a makeover?
Norma: Um...a makeover, no, uh, I-I don't have time.
Clerk: Oh, come on. Time has a short temper. If you don't take enough of it to look your best, it can turn into an enemy, fast. (Turns) Samples. The cleanser system.
Norma: Really, all right? Just-just tell me how much this is.
Clerk: (Another clerk is there now) Trust me. Trust me!
Norma: No, I don't need anything else.
Clerk: Easy to say that now, but now's going to be gone in three seconds, and then, boom, old age.
(The woman closes her hand around the blush and pulls her hand back)
Clerk: (seeming normal again) Hey, where are you going? (Goes around the counter, stops the woman) Miss? You do have to pay for that, you know.
Norma: I already have. In so many ways. I already have. (Things go blurry again, and she raises a gun and shoots at the clerk, who screams, then falls)
Security officer: Lady, freeze!
(She turns to shoot him, he shoots her, she's dead)
(Nick sighs as he goes through the woman's purse, shaking his head)
Schanke: Goodbye, Norma Dean. Only the gorgeous die young, right, Nick? What do you think made her go crazy like that?
Nick: I don't know, but from the looks of the inside of her purse, I'd say it was the sheer effort involved in trying to stay gorgeous and young.
Schanke: Yeah. (Looking at something) Dyna-thin appetite suppressant capsules. Chocolate flavor.
Nick: There's enough makeup here for an extended run of the Mikado.
Schanke: The first stroll through the contents of a woman's purse is no walk in the park, Nick. Just be glad it's not Myra's purse. I still have nightmares about that curling iron with the spikes in it.
Nick: Why do they do it to themselves, Schanke?
Schanke: Well, Myra says we do it to them. Like I have fun sleeping with a woman who wears sauna pants and curlers. Like I enjoy sitting in a garage alone eating a triple-cheese pizza. Like I.... (Sees a publicity poster) Hey, hey, hey, hey. (He walks up and picks it up) This is Birgita Schneider. Oh, man, I love this woman. Too bad it's only a shot of her face, because she has one killer body. I mean...I worship this woman.
Natalie: (Standing behind the poster, pulling it down) That woman is fifteen years old. (Schanke's stunned) The paramedics just called from the hospital. Apparently, the salesgirl is going to be okay. The slug shattered her collarbone, but she's healthy. She's in stable condition.
Nick: Well, she was lucky. She was very lucky.
Natalie: Oh, come on, Schank! Everybody knows that taking credit for prepubescence is the oldest trick in the cosmetic manufacturers' handbook. Buy this, look like that. (Looking at the price on a lipstick) Oh my! Personally, I'd rather save the cash and try to grow old gracefully.
Baroness: Please, Nicholas.... Don't let the weight of another day pull at me. This face. This body.
Nick: I think, Baroness, that perhaps the wine has--
Baroness: Don't patronize me. I want an answer from you. I want you to tell me that you will do it.
Nick: I am not exactly sure of what you're asking, me, Baroness, but I'm sure you're aware that you are one of the most beautiful women in the country.
Baroness: Was. Perhaps. Was. Oh, Nicholas, one barely has time to become acquainted with one's youth. I'm not ready to leave it behind so soon. I'm just not ready.
Baroness: I want you...to make me what you are. Please.... Make me one of you.
Schanke: So, what's your secret of youth?
(Nick, after looking at Nat, turns away, a smile on his face)
Schanke: What? What's with the look?
Natalie: Wait a sec, you guys. The tag fell off.
(She unzips the bag, and finds a slightly 'older' Norma Dean in side, at which she glances around)
Answering machine: Hi, this is Kiki. Norma and I aren't home. We're probably at the beach stretched out in the warm sun, our bodies covered in oil. Never mind, just leave a message, and we'll get back to you.
(Schanke hangs up and heads toward Nick, who's approaching)
Nick: No answer?
Schanke: No, a machine. Sounds like she's got a roommate. Are you sure there's no family in here?
Nick: Well, there's nothing I could find. We'd better go talk to her.
Schanke: Oh, come on, Nick. It's late. I've already done a full shift. Just because you feel weirdly sorry for her shouldn't mean I can't call her up in the morning, or at least let the department notify her next of kin? (Nick's walking off) Forget it. No way.
Nick: Hello? Anyone home?
Kiki: Come on in. I'll be there in a sec.
Nick: (Too soft for her to hear) Okay.
Schanke: Nice decorating job. I don't know whether I'm in a sorority house, a gym, or a museum.
Nick: Sure is eclectic.
Schanke: Yeah. Kinda reminds me of your place.
Kiki: (Coming down with a laundry basket) Hi. Something tells me you aren't the stairmaster repairman.
Nick: I'm Detective Knight. This is Detective Schanke. Hi.
Kiki: The party last night was too noisy, wasn't it? I knew I should have invited Mrs. Birch.
Schanke: Uh, that's not why we're here.
Nick: You're Norma Dean's roommate?
Kiki: (suspiciously) Why?
Schanke: So, where to next? Yousef's Garage to notify the mechanic who works on her Cabriolet? I mean, why can't her roommate break the news to her employer?
Nick: Because it's our responsibility to notify the family, and because according to Kiki, her employer's the closest thing to family she's got.
Schanke: Yeah, but it's something else, too. You're on a mission about something.
Schanke: Yeah. Like the time you wouldn't let Stonetree book the church hall for the policemen's raffle.
Nick: I guess I do feel a little sorry for Norma Dean.
Schanke: The question is, why? She tried to kill an innocent person over a little thing of makeup.
Nick: Well, maybe because it's a sad story, that's why. I mean, she's a young girl. No prior convictions. She even had a library card in her purse.
Schanke: Oh now that's a wonderful reason to be driving all around town. Meanwhile, thousands of bad guys are having a field day tearing up this city, making a mockery out of the concepts of law and order. You're too much, Nick. You're too much.
Nick: Okay, okay.
Bernice: Two, three, four, kick! All right, stretch it out, women, stretch it out. Burn at the hip. Let's burn at the hip. I want to see that stretch. I want to see your legs twice as long. All right, energy. That's one, two, three, four.
Schanke: I say we question every single one of them.
Girl at front desk: Hi, boys. Here to pick up girlfriends? Wives? We guarantee they look even better than when you dropped them off. Now, were they spa, personal training, or mudwraps?
Schanke: Ooh, mudwraps, I can just see Myra in a mudwrap. Ship ahoy.
(Schanke laughs, then stops as a trainer walks by)
Nick: Maybe Myra would like it here.
Schanke: I love her just the way she is.
Nick: Actually, we're here on police business. Is there a manager we could see?
(She points to Bernice)
Bernice: Yes. Back, two, three, four. Kick, two, point those toes. Kick, two, three, four. Good. That's good.
Natalie: (on recoding) Norma Dean, case 7210-6. (She stops it and sets it down)
Bernice: I'm Bernice Applebaum. Debbie said you wanted to see me.
Schanke: Yeah, uh, you had an employee by the name of Norma Dean?
Nick: I'm afraid she's dead.
Bernice: I beg your pardon?
Schanke: She was shot by a department-store security guard.
Bernice: What? Why?
Nick: She shot a saleswoman.
Bernice: She killed somebody?
Schanke: Almost. Saleslady's going to be okay.
Bernice: Norma...Norma was like family to me.
Bernice: Norma's dead.
Natalie: (having uncovered Norma) Wait a minute.... Oh my God.
Trainer: That's it, come on. Eleven. Push it, come on. (Blurriedness again, just for a moment) Breathe out. Twelve. Come on. Come on.
Agnes: No, I'm wiped. That's enough for today.
Trainer: (stops he as she gets up and goes to walk away) Oh, what, you want to quit, huh? You want to get fat and ugly, too?
(She shrugs away, leaves, but he grabs her arm again)
Trainer: Where do you think you're going?
Agnes: Take your hand off me. I said we're done. I don't feel like it anymore, okay?
Trainer: What is it this time? You got a headache? Come on. One more rep. Your hips will thank you.
Agnes: I said no, you stupid--
Trainer: Come on! (Picks her up and carries her) Come on! (Puts her down, his voice sounds different) Just look at it this way, babe. If I let go of you, you'll start sagging.
(She grabs a barbell and hits him, and he falls into a mirror, then to the ground. She drops the barbell and runs out as others stop)
Agnes: (as Nick finds her) I can't seem to remember where I parked my car. It's the most ridiculous thing.
Stonetree: Any evidence of drugs? Some kind of steroids, maybe?
Nick: It doesn't look like it so far, and her locker was clean. Witnesses just say she snapped.
Stonetree: Yeah, well...there was a reason. What were you guys doing there?
Schanke: Well, it's a long story, Cap.
Stonetree: I like long stories.
Nick: Norma Dean worked there. We just went to notify what I guess you could call her surrogate family.
Stonetree: The department store shooter.
Nick: That's right.
Stonetree: Two unexplained reflex murders in one night. That's some coincidence.
Nick: Maybe even too much of one.
Stonetree: What are you thinking, Knight?
Nick: I have absolutely no idea.
Nick: Who is it?
Natalie: Norma Dean.
Nick: Well, it can't be. She wasn't more than twenty-seven at the most.
Natalie: No, she wasn't...when I put her in the bag. Then I put her away for a couple of hours and this is what I found. oh, Nick, believe me, there's been no mistake. I've checked every possibility.
Nick: You sure someone hasn't switched the bodies?
Natalie: Well, that's what I thought at first, so I checked this woman's blood and tissue samples against the original blood sample found on the bullet. I did anti-sera testing for clumping, I checked the white counts, and I did an antibody match. Now, I haven't done a DNA run-up yet, but I've got to tell you, Nick, this is Norma Dean.
Nick: Any idea at all what it could be?
Natalie: None. After I checked the cooling system to make sure it wasn't malfunctioning and confirmed that the medical students weren't playing any practical jokes...and gave myself a breathalyzer test, I went back to the original blood test. And this...is what I found.
(Nat hands him test results)
Nick: Unidentified virus.
Natalie: Well, at least it's a new one on me.
Nick: So it could be an infection?
Natalie: Well, except that all the viruses I found had been killed, so I don't see how they could have had any effect.
Nick: Unless they were injected already dead.
Natalie: Like a vaccine. Oh-ho, like a vaccine for something else.
Nick: Something that could cause violent, erratic behaviour.
Natalie: Well, at least now there's the possibility of a medical explanation.
Nick: As opposed to a supernatural one?
Natalie: That's why I put in a call for you. I haven't told anyone else about it yet. I just didn't know what else to think.
Nick: Well, one thing's for sure, Nat. I mean, if she was a vampire, she wouldn't have died of a gunshot.
Natalie: I didn't think so. Besides, when vampires die, don't they usually just sort of....
Nick: Well, they disappear.
Natalie: There's something else you should know.
Natalie: This was in her back pocket.
Nick: What is it?
Natalie: It's her social security check.
Bernice: I don't know.
Schanke: Nothing unusual about their behaviour? Nothing at all?
Bernice: No, they seemed fine.
Schanke: I don't get it. This doesn't wash. 'They seemed fine' to someone who said they knew them both for a long time and then all of the sudden one day, the same day, boom, they fly off the handle? One murder, one attempted murder. Unless there's something in the pipes at the gym....
Nick: Hey, Schank, that's enough for one night, okay?
Schanke: (Moves to stand in front of Nick) Come on, Nick, she must know more.
Nick: All right, I've got a few questions for her myself. So she's obviously at the end of her rope, so give it a rest, okay?
Schanke: Okay. (He leaves)
Bernice: I'm very happy to answer questions. I just...I don't know how much more I can add.
Nick: It's okay. There's lots of time to deal with that later. Come on, I'll give you a lift home.
Bernice: Um, I don't...I don't want to go home right now. I don't think I can be alone.
Nick: Okay, I understand that. Is there a friend, or a relative, someone to talk to, recover a little, somewhere you can unwind?
Bernice: Yeah, there's a place where I can let it go. That's a good idea. That'll probably help. Thanks.
Nick: Let's go.
Nick: She has a strange way of coping with tragedy.
Janette: Hmm. We could outlast her any century.
Nick: Are you so sure of that?
Janette: Hmm...feeling are age, are we?
Nick: Well, sometimes it's difficult not to.
Janette: Relax. Your midlife crisis is at least a millennium away.
Nick: You know, someone should really bottle this.... Youthful vitality.
Janette: It's not vitality, it's desperation. Look at them. They all dance as if Father Time were shooting bullets at their feet. Which, I suppose, he is.
Nick: Are you sure you're not just a little envious? Sure, you still have your youth, but they, they have enthusiasm.
Janette: Their enthusiasm will fade soon enough, Nicolas. (They kiss) As they watch each younger generation arrive to cut in on their dance...turn their possessions into artifacts...and store their pictures in dusty attics.
Baroness: So it goes. This one's younger than the last.
Nick: The Baron is discreet, Baroness.
Baroness: Unfortunately, it's not his discretion that I want.
Nick: Well, in that case, you are both powerful and wealthy. There's absolutely no reason why you should not take a lover.
Baroness: Oh, yes. I can buy one, can't I? How desperately pathetic.
Nick: You know I did not mean that.
Baroness: I know what you meant, but forgive me if my expectation runs...somewhat above the norm. (She sits down) Do you think that I'm...still beautiful, Nicholas?
Nick: Beautiful and intelligent. Something that youth can never guarantee.
Baroness: You're trying to make me believe that you truly care about me?
Nick: (sits next to her) But I do truly care about you.
Baroness: It's not my library, or my parties...or the smell of the blood of my guests? (He looks away) Don't try to protest. I've discovered what you are. I know why you decline my invitations to hunt in the afternoons. Because you hunt only at night.
Nick: (stands) Really, Baroness.
Baroness: Don't. You see, my intelligence is the only thing that I can be sure of now, and I've read enough of the world and the things in it to know what I see before me.
Nick: Then your intelligence must tell you when to leave something alone.
Baroness: But how can I? When I know that unperishable beauty and immortality lie within a breath of your consent?
Nick: I suggest that you drop this very dangerous delusion.
Baroness: Then tell me I'm more attractive than your latest mistress. Tell me that my intelligence makes me so much more appealing. If you won't make me one of you, then tell me that you'll make me your lover.
Girl from inside: Nicholas? Your invitation for a walk in the garden. Shall we go now?
Nick: Baroness. (Excuses himself with a nod and leaves)
Janette: She comes here often.
Janette: Mm-hmm. She and her friends. Maybe twice a week. I give them free cover, free drinks. It doesn't hurt business to have pretty young things hanging around the place.
Nick: Her friends. Norma and Agnes?
Janette: Yes, I believe those are their names. Why?
(He kisses her on the cheek and walks toward Bernice)
Nick: (whispering) You're very quiet.
Bernice: Hmm? Oh.
Nick: How do you feel?
Bernice: I'm fine.
Nick: (Stopping the Caddy) Is this it?
Bernice: (looking) Yes. Yes.... Ah, thank you, very much for taking care of me tonight. I guess I need some sleep now.
Nick: You really knocked yourself out in there, didn't you?
Nick: Listen, the owner's a friend of mine, and she was telling me that you and your friends go there a couple times a week. Um, would they happen to be Norma and Agnes?
Bernice: Yeah, Norma, Agnes...and some others.
Nick: I have to talk to you about Norma. Uh, how about tomorrow night? (She shrugs) You sure you're all right?
Bernice: Thank you. Thank you very much for your kindness.
Nick: Bernice.... I know death is never very easy to deal with.
Bernice: Especially when you're the one that's being left behind. That's the hard part, isn't it? Being left behind?
Nick: That's very true. Bernice: Norma was Miss Calgary Stampede once, you know? It was just after the war.
(Nick's a little surprised at that, Bernice sighs, and kisses him on the cheek)
Bernice: Good night. (She gets out, waves him off at the door. Once he's gone, she drops her keys and they fall through the grill. She turns, and shoots the lock with a gun.)
Natalie: All right, come on. Talk to me. I know when something is up with you.
Nick: Oh, I, no, I'm just worried for someone.
Nick: Someone I hardly know, actually. It's strange. This whole case has me on edge the last couple of days. It's made me think of someone I once knew. Someone I'm afraid that I let down a long time ago.
Natalie: Do you want to talk about it?
Nick: Not a lot to talk about. It's in the past where it belongs, I guess. So...what do you want to see me about?
Natalie: Aha. A fax from the Center for Disease Control. I sent them an electronic image of that weird virus, thinking they could tell me what it was.
Nick: And did they?
Natalie: Yup. It's been extinct for over 200 years.
Nick: Well, if it's been extinct, how are they able to identify it?
Natalie: Ah, now, well, that's the fascinating part. The most recent sample besides ours was found in northern Europe, or should I say 'exhumed' in northern Europe, from the grave of a man who's been dead for over 300 years.
Nick: The most recent?
Natalie: It was a strain of flu virus apparently quite common until it burned itself out at the end of the eighteenth century.
Nick: Well, I guess that puts a crimp in our vaccine theory.
Natalie: Or adds weight to another, perhaps?
Nick: Come on, we both know that can't be. If she was bitten by a vampire, she wouldn't be alive, unless being a zombie is your definition of being alive. And if she was a vampire, she wouldn't be dead.
Natalie: Well, couldn't there be something else out there? Some kind of Dorian Gray thing? I mean, if you can exist, then....
Nick: Something I haven't encountered in eight hundred years and several continents? What about the diet pills?
Natalie: Nothing. Just your average appetite suppressants. So, do I file the autopsy report or what?
Nick: Not yet.
Schanke: Hey, Knight. Remember that social security check you had me look up?
Nick: What'd you find?
Schanke: That it wasn't fake. Maybe it's a scam she had going. She could've fallen into it, a computer error or something.
Natalie: Wait a minute. You mean she has a government pension?
Schanke: Yeah, yeah. Sweet deal, huh? Makes me a little bit nervous. I'm going to hit sixty-five, go to my post office box, visions of beach chairs bobbing in my head, only to find an apology and a promissory note from some twenty-six-year-old hacker living the good life in Brazil.
Nick: Hey, listen, did we ever find a driver's license?
Schanke: I assumed she'd lost it.
Nick: Well, call motor vehicles, will you?
Nick: I'd be interested if you could get a copy. (Goes to phone) Ah, Knight here. (Other side not audible) Yeah, okay. (Hangs it up) Anyone looks for me, I'm down in lock-up. Nat, got a minute? I could use your help.
Natalie: Yeah, sure.
Agnes: Is that Dr. Jurgen? No. I need Dr. Jurgen. My hands.... My shoulders hurt.
Nick: Hasn't the prison doctor been to see you yet?
Agnes: I need my doctor. I need my medication.
Natalie: What kind of medication?
Nick: Well, we can get your prison doctor back.
Agnes: No. The prison doctor is a psychiatrist. (Reaches for Nick/hits the bars) Damn you, I need Dr. Jurgen!
Nick: Okay, okay, we'll try to get Dr. Jurgen, but you'll have to tell us where he or she is.
Agnes: I'm not sure. She does consultations at the spa.
Natalie: Consultations? Is she a sports medicine doctor?
Agnes: No, she's a plastic surgeon.
Natalie: Somehow this doesn't seem like the kind of place you'd expect to find a plastic surgery practice.
Nick: Well, actually, I was thinking the exact opposite.
Natalie: Well, you could have a point. Do you think Norma Dean was a patient too?
Nick: Well, hopefully, we'll find out soon. So, shall we spread out?
Natalie: I wouldn't use that expression in here, if I were you.
Bernice: (at knocking on door) Go away!
(Nick and Natalie enter anyway)
Bernice: (hiding her face from them No, shut the door and..and, and stay out.
Bernice: Nick? Nick, I'm, I'm..I'm a real mess right now. Could you please just come back later, all right?
Nick: Bernice, this is Natalie Lambert. (Starts turning the lights up)
Bernice: No, no, no, no, no.... No, not the light, please. Please. (Lights are back off) Thank you.
Nick: Look, you don't have to do that.
Bernice: (Putting on makeup and Nick approaches) Oh, yes, I do. You have no idea how bad I look without makeup.
Nick: Aw, come on.
Bernice: No, stay, stay, stay away, please.
Nick: Uh.... (Gets Nat to leave with a nod) Uh, Bernice.... I wanted to talk to you about Dr. Jurgen. I mean, it seemed that Agnes was desperate to see her, so I just wanted to find out if there's any way of bringing her to the prison.
Bernice: Did she say why she wanted to see her?
Nick: No, she wouldn't.
Bernice: Dr. Jurgen's left already.
Nick: Well, can you tell me where her regular practice is? (He moves closer)
Bernice: No, don't, don't, don't! Don't step another step closer, all right?
Nick: Bernice, why are you doing this? (Makes her look at him) What's happened to you?
Bernice: You just don't realize what it takes to be beautiful.
Baroness: Nicholas.... I'm so happy to see you're still here.
Nick: I was rather afraid that you'd never be happy to see me again.
Baroness: Oh, I don't think I'll ever be anything but happy.
(Janette walks up from behind)
Janette: Sometimes it takes a woman, Nicolas, to understand another woman's plight.
(The Baroness has been brought over...either by Janette or at her insistence, ie, LaCroix....)
Agnes: Why won't they bring me my doctor? Why won't they bring me my doctor! (Leans against wall and slides down to the floor) I need her so badly.
Officer: All right, all right. That's enough, okay? Your doctor's here.
(Dr. Jurgen/the Baroness walks in, but you don't see her face.)
Agnes: Thank God.
Baroness: Agnes.... Everything's all right.
Nick: Listen, tell me what I can do to help you. Come on, tell me. I know you're grieving for your friend.
(The phone's ringing)
Bernice: Just leave me alone, please. Just leave me alone. I'm tired. (Crying) I'm tired of trying.
Intercom: Bernice, there's a call for Detective Knight on line three.
Nick: I'll take it outside. (He waits a bit, kisses her hand and leaves)
Girl at desk: Tell Bernice I'm out of here, okay?
Nick: All right. (Then, into phone) Knight here. (Can't hear other side) Okay, I'll be right there. (Goes to leave, catches Natalie) Agnes Ferguson's just escaped from lock-up.
Nick: Listen, um, uh, Bernice, I, I don't want to leave her alone. Everyone's going home.
Natalie: Well, we can't force her to come with us. Okay, look, you go, I'll stay here with her.
Nick: All right, thanks. (Kisses her on the cheek)
Schanke: Uh-hm. So the...the door of the cell was locked, is that what you're telling me?
Schanke: Locked, and you're standing where? Right here?
Officer: Right there.
Schanke: Agnes is in the cell, she's inside, right? And, uh...okay, you opened the door, you take the meal plate out, you close it, you lock it back up, she's still inside the cell, you turn around, and you turn back, and she's...gone.
Schanke: Yeah. Yeah, that's what you're telling me. Well, there's got to be an explanation for this. There's always a logical explanation, it's just a matter of pulling together all the myriad facts, examining the evidence, and trying to get the contradictory thing to work.
Officer: I just don't understand it myself.
Schanke: Yeah, well, that's apparent. Okay, okay, um...wait a minute, wait a minute. The door wasn't properly closed.
Officer: Oh, come on--
Schanke: No, no, hear me out. Hear me out. Is that a weave? No, don't answer that, don't worry about it. Okay, um...the door wasn't properly locked...and ah...the wind... (Guard (or prisoner) giggles) It's not funny, could've happened. The wind, a gust of wind blew it open. Okay, okay, it's stupid, but you always got to be thinking in this job. Oh, come on! There's-- There was no damage to the door! It was clearly your key that unlocked it for her!
Officer: I'm telling you, detective, I did not see her leave. I'd remember if I'd opened the door for her.
Schanke: You are asking me to believe something absolutely impossible. You understand that? (Nick walks up) He says he never saw anything, yet, he claims he never left. There's a computation error, here!
(Nick walks past and into the cell)
Schanke: You know, unless you've got something to add to this, Nick, a...conspiracy theory or something, uh... (Sighs) Something we can cling to....
Nick: Another. (He gets the officer's attention) Did she have any visitors?
Officer: I don't think so.... No. I don't think so.
Schanke: The absent-minded guard!
Nick: *Did Agnes Ferguson have any visitors?*
Officer: Her doctor.
Nick: *Did her doctor help her to escape?*
Officer: Told me to unlock the door. Told me to forget.
(Nick breaks it, walks out of the cell, and he and Schanke leave.)
Natalie: Bernice, please open the door. You need to talk to someone, Bernice. You can talk to me.
Schanke: (on phone) Yeah, the name is Dean, Norma Dean. (Silence) That's D-E-A-N. (To the side, to Nick) Like there are a lot of other ways to spell it. (Back to phone) Yeah. Yeah, okay, all right, thanks. (Hangs up) I can't believe you let me make a long-distance call on your car phone. You know how much those things cost?
Nick: What year?
Schanke: 1945. I'll call again when we get to the spa. The librarian obviously didn't get her facts straight.
Nick: Actually, Schanke, I've changed my mind about going there.
Schanke: What about Nat? Don't we have to pick up Nat?
Nick: Ah, yeah. I've got to check on something, and I need to check it out myself, okay?
Nick: Just go back to the precinct, and I'll meet you there. (He pulls over)
Natalie: Look, Bernice, I'm a doctor.
Bernice: No more doctors! (She throws something at the door)
(Natalie, seeing that the neighboring suite is Dr. Jurgen's, goes to it, knocks lightly, and goes in.)
Schanke: I can't believe how often he does this to me. Amazing. (Scoots over) Great.
Agnes: What's happening to me? Why does it hurt?
Baroness/Dr. Jurgen: You've never gone this long before without a treatment, Agnes. It's natural that you'd be feeling the effects.
Agnes: I know that, but what is actually happening to me? It feels--it feels like, like my energy is being drained away or something. It feels strange. I'm scared!
Baroness: It's just withdrawal. That's all it is.
Agnes: Are you sure? I mean, are you sure that I'm not...catching up?
Baroness: You shouldn't worry. I've told you that everything is going to be all right. I'm not going to let you down.
Agnes: It just feels so different, that's all. I mean, suddenly, everything just feels...different.
Baroness: It'll only be a moment. Just...a moment.
(She fills a syringe with her own blood, not the vial)
Baroness: There's someone here.
Agnes: Someone? Who?
(They leave the room, and Natalie comes out)
Baroness: I have a new title now, Nicholas. One that befits my accomplishments. You may call me Dr. Sophia Jurgen. This is one gathering to which you have not been invited.
Nick: How many have you brought over?
Baroness: Brought over? (Softly laughs) Is that what you think has happened? No, Nicholas. What you and I have done, I now consider to be a last resort. What I do for my patients, is something that I wish you had thought of yourself. A way to stay young without turning cold...without having to shy away from the sunlight.
Nick: How many?
Baroness: Only those who wanted it the most.
Bernice: It's too much hard work being young.
Nick: Only those who wanted it most. And did they know what it was you were offering? Did you tell them it was the blood of a vampire?
(The Baroness injects the blood, and Agnes turns to her at Nick's words)
Nick: No, you didn't. You at least had a choice.
Baroness: Get out!
Nick: You at least knew what you were asking for.
Baroness: They are not like us.
Nick: Then what exactly are they? Hmm? What exactly have you done to them?
Baroness: I said go!
Nick: Your treatment is brilliant, Doctor. It's miraculous how your patients haven't led this cursed existence of ours.
Baroness: Assuage your guilt some other way, Nicholas. Your guilt on behalf of yourself and all men who have ever spurned Athena in the quest for Venus.
Nick: You're blaming me for what you are? For the tragic resolution for a mortal lifetime of vanity? Oh no. I won't accept the blame. Because you were the one who ultimately devalued your less fleeting gifts, who devalued your soul.
Baroness: You were a trusted friend. I trusted your opinion of me.
Nick: You should have trusted your own more.
(Natalie comes down the stairs behind the Baroness)
Nick: Natalie, no.
(The Baroness flies at Natalie, grabbing her and putting the needle to her throat. Nick also goes, stops her, takes the syringe, and pushes her away. He crumples the syringe, and Agnes is about to knock him over the head with something)
Schanke: (shooting Agnes) Oh my God.
Baroness: (seeing Agnes grow old in an instant) What have I done?
Bernice: What happened?
Baroness: I'm so sorry. (She leaves, flying off, probably)
Bernice: Doctor, what happened? Where are you going? (She sees Agnes) Oh my God.
Natalie: So, do you think Bernice is going to be okay now?
Nick: Yeah, I think she will. She's got a lot going for her. She's a good person. Of course, it means putting what's happened behind her and getting on with her life, but then, you know, I think she's committed to making the best of it.
Natalie: I don't know, she's lost three of the most important people in her life.
Nick: Let's just hope she opens herself up to new friends.
Natalie: I'm sure it means a great deal to her to know you're there to support her.
Stonetree: I don't get it. You say you were there and you saw the whole thing, but you don't remember who shot the old woman.
Cop (Officer): It doesn't make sense.
Cop (Detective): It's ridiculous!
Officer from lock-up: Sounds like a computation error to me!
Schanke: I don't know what else to tell you. I know it sounds ridiculous, but...you think I enjoy the notion of premature Alzheimer's? I can't remember. For some reason I just can't remember!
Natalie: Can't remember. He just can't remember.
Nick: Post-hypnotic suggestion.
Natalie: Well, I don't mean to criticize, but couldn't you have been a bit more thorough, say, planted an alternate memory for his sake?
Nick: Yeah, maybe I could have, and uh...eventually, I will.
Nick: Sun's almost up, Bernice. I'm afraid I've got to be getting back.
Bernice: Oh, I wish we didn't have to go yet. It's just starting to warm up.
Nick: You know, you should have a jacket. The weather's getting chillier now.
Bernice: I have always hated saying goodbye to summer. Fall's only here about two weeks, and then it's winter. It seems so sudden.
Nick: Well, that's the eternal complaint, huh? Although winter can be a beautiful season as well. I'll walk you home.
Bernice: That would be awfully nice of you.