Dexter Page #5

DEBRA:

(jams the donut in her mouth)

Got any ideas yet?

DEXTER:

Nope...

DEBRA:

Well start doing your mental autopsy

because I need your theories and

thanks for the fucken donut. It

sucked.

(kisses him)

Gotta go.

And with that she's gone. Dexter smiles, turns around and

heads down another hallway.

CUT TO:

INT. RECORDS ROOM - POLICE HEADQUARTERS - MIAMI, FL - SAME

And we see CAMILLIA (late 60's) sitting at her desk, reading

the paper, stirring her Sanka.

23.

DEXTER (O.S.)

Donut?

She's frail and thin, too thin, looks almost moth-eaten from

the wear and tear of being the sole gatekeeper of the Police

Department's Office of Records for the past twenty years.

She's a tough, intuitive woman who appreciates the donuts

Dexter gives her but more importantly loves the attention he

pays her.

Behind her are endless rows of ceiling high metal shelves

packed with records and files. She looks up, smiles wide,

then eyes Dexter suspiciously.

CAMILLIA:

Keeping your fingernails clean?

DEXTER:

Never leave home without my rubber

gloves.

And Camillia dives in, grabs a few crullers.

CAMILLIA:

Good boy.

DEXTER:

Anything new?

And she hands him a fat file, labeled ÒJaworski.Ó

CAMILLIA:

Why do you keep coming in here for

this stuff?

DEXTER:

(leans in, whispers)

I've told you before -- and don't tell

anyone, but blood spatter isn't really

a full time job. Anyway, it's like a

hobby -- maybe I can help out -- fills

my nights.

CAMILLIA:

You have a morbid sense of fun.

DEXTER:

(genuinely)

That's probably true.

CAMILLIA:

You should find a pretty girl.

24.

DEXTER:

I found you.

CAMILLIA:

Charming like your father -- just

don't get me fired.

DEXTER:

(smiling)

Then who would I bring donuts to?

CUT TO:

INT. LAB - POLICE HEADQUARTERS - MIAMI, FL - SAME

Dexter, light footed as ever, walks through the large, glass

enclosed lab, passing the ÒAnalytical,Ó ÒForensicÓ and

ÒSerology (blood)Ó sections all packed with SCIENTISTS and

ANALYSTS in white coats, hovering over microscopes,

computers, and other high tech machines. He reaches into his

box of donuts, grabs the last one. Stares into the empty box.

DEXTER (V.O.)

Just like me. Clean, crisp outside,

and nothing at all on the inside.

Dexter dumps that box into a garbage can, passes Masuka

cataloging prints, heads toward the back of the room and

enters his small little glass enclosed office -

INT. DEXTER'S OFFICE - POLICE HEADQUARTERS - MIAMI, FL - SAME

Where he's immediately confronted by -

SGT. DOAKES (30's), a large, imposing BLACK MAN, whose cold

frosty eyes are framed by a face fixed with a permanent look

of hostility -- especially when he's around Dexter.

SGT. DOAKES

(hard, impatient)

Where the hell you been?

DEXTER:

Crime scene?

Doakes stares at him then looks around the office, eyes -

The poster of Miami's, ÓMatador's Hockey Team,Ó taped to one

of the glass walls, but the other walls are plastered with

images of blood stained walls, floors, and carpets -- looks

almost like a ÒJackson Pollack exhibit.Ó

25.

SGT. DOAKES

What about these?

Doakes shoves two oversized color photos of A COUPLE OF

BODIES, lying dead on the carpeted floor of a large hotel

room into Dexter's hands.

SGT. DOAKES (CONT'D)

(hard)

The hotel coke-head murders? This

dealer and the girl?

Dexter scans them -- eyes the blood spatter on the walls.

DEXTER:

This hallmark-looking couple didn't

die by the hands of a professional

killer. Nope. This is child's play.

Messy work -- all that blood on the

walls -- looks like finger painting.

SGT. DOAKES

You give me the f***ing creeps, you

know that Dexter?

DEXTER:

Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.

SGT. DOAKES

(takes a step in)

F*** you.

DEXTER:

Okay...

(beat)

Is there something I can...

SGT. DOAKES

Yeah. You can give me your f***ing

analysis on the blood spatter on these

killings. You think I'm here to invite

you to my nephew's bris?

DEXTER:

I didn't know you were Jewish.

SGT. DOAKES

Shut the f*** up and just write your

report already.

(MORE)

26.

SGT. DOAKES (CONT'D)

Don't even know why I need you -- so

just grab a crayon, psycho and

scribble this down: Rival dealer came

in -- two scum-bags slashed to hell --

dealer stole the drugs. Wham, bam done

and I don't give a sh*t what you say,

cause that's what happened and that's

who I'm looking for --We're looking

for a motherfucking thief dealer. Got

it?

DEXTER:

(uncertain)

Okay...sure...I guess, but I need to

get back...

SGT. DOAKES

Then get back there already, you

f***ing weirdo, I need it quick.

DEXTER:

I'm on it, Sergeant.

And Doakes storms out of the office.

DEXTER (V.O.) (CONT'D)

The only real question I have is why,

in a building full of cops...

FLASH TO:

A montage of different DETECTIVES interrogating a series of

tough, defiant PERPS.

DEXTER (V.O.) (CONT'D)

...all supposedly with a keen insight

into the human soul, is Doakes the

only one that gets the creeps from me?

CUT TO:

INT. OCEAN VIEW HOTEL SUITE - MIAMI, FL - LATER

The sliding doors on the balcony are open and hot gusts of

wind whip the curtains around.

And in the middle of this suite are a couple of what look

like tall microphone stands and -

Emanating from the top of each stand is a series of

individual strings stretched across the room and pinned to

the blood splattered on the opposite wall and curtains.

27.

On the far right side of the room, the wall is almost

entirely covered with one big dripping splotch of blood.

The left side of the room is very different.

The wall is covered with thousands of seemingly random little

dots of blood, but like a Pissaro painting, when you step

back and away, those abstract dots suddenly transform into a

beautiful series of descending arcs, like rainbows of blood.

Dexter pins yet another string to a tiny splat of blood on

the wall completing a complex maze of strings -- a massive

cat's cradle hanging across the room.

Dexter walks back away from the wall, stands next to a young

buff UNIFORMED COP (20's). Dexter admires his work -

UNIFORMED COP:

So what are you going to do, catch the

guy in this big f***ing spider web

you're making?

DEXTER:

Just looking for patterns.

UNIFORMED COP:

I heard they brought them out in

chunks.

DEXTER:

(up-beat)

And lots of little pieces too.

UNIFORMED COP:

So this coke dealer and his girl --

The killer used a sword?

DEXTER:

Nope, probably a very sharp knife.

Look at the blood spatter. Look at the

patterns, tells a story. See this big

pond of blood right there?

And he steps to the large blot on the right side of the wall.

DEXTER (CONT'D)

That was from the initial slice. The

male victim was standing right here...

(points)

...and the killer's knife swooped

across, slashed his throat. See --

Notice the long, thick, heavy drips,

here and here.

28.

UNIFORMED COP:

Yeah, nice.

And Dexter points to the arcs of blood on the left side.

DEXTER:

Now over here are nice clean sprays of

blood and there's a rhythm to them,

and that can only happen when you're

holding something light, moving quick,

nice, sharp slices through the body --

no splashes, no drips, clean and easy,

graceful cuts like skipping pebbles

across a lake. This guy knew how to

use a blade.

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