The Breed Page #2

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Are you satisfied?

Look, man, I thought the kid-

I know exactly what you thought.

What were you thinking

bringing me here?

They don't need some racist cop

throwing his weight around.

Racist? You calling me a racist?

You. Humanity.

" Made in God's image. "

You're all so arrogant.

Let's just go to work.

Who's this?

One of many suspects. Excuse

me, everything is in specific order.

Look, man, if we're gonna

be working together...

...we have to be straight up

with each other.

Is that right?

Some plants would

brighten up the place.

I didn't know you were a comedian,

Mr. Grant.

The handcuffs are silver.

The bullets, silver-jacketed.

Isn't that expensive?

We're allergic to silver. The wounds

won't heal until the bullet's removed.

What the f*** is this?

Prison cells.

Made of plastic compound.

They can withstand high explosives.

Bars are too easy to bend.

No guests?

These are set aside for violent

criminals. Murderers.

No stake through the heart?

This is not the movies.

And up until now...

...we have had no use for either.

We are a very peaceful people.

- I've looked forward to meeting you.

- Who are you?

The name is Cross.

Dr. Cross.

I founded this town.

Let's compare notes, shall we?

I reviewed the autopsy

on the latest victim.

No forensic evidence.

- Her throat was cut with a knife.

- My partner's wasn't.

We couldn't get a dental imprint.

He was careful not to bite them.

He just used his fangs.

The effect was the same

as if he had used forceps.

It's possible that the

killings are politically motivated.

Almost certainly.

This is not the work of a man

who is in a grip of blood lust.

Our synthetic substitute

stamped out that behaviour...

...years ago.

No. The being who perpetrated

these horrible crimes...

...is deliberately defying

our community.

Making a statement.

You must understand, Agent Grant,

our people are afraid.

We are an easy target

for human paranoia here.

It's what you wanted.

I advocated coming forward.

I said we'd be safe.

Help us find the rogue

before it's too late...

...and my people are punished

unfairly.

This disk...

...contains a database...

...of all known vampires worldwide.

Sir, I can handle that.

I'll be in the car.

- You can't give them names.

- We have to trust each other.

With our lives.

Privacy is illusion.

Trust authority.

Cross has made overtures

for months about this information.

How did you persuade him?

- He just gave it to me.

- But why?

God knows. Maybe he really wants

what's best for his people.

The bad news is, I don't have faith

in them like he does.

We spoke of precautions.

After the work you put in,

you deserve a look.

Existence proceeds essence.

Nothing is true.

Everything is permitted.

Fleming.

Damn it!

Dr. Fleming, Agent Grant.

Grant is our field man.

Show him why we aren't worried

about tracking them.

Here's a sample of their blood...

...infected with a deadly

airborne virus we have created...

Highly contagious.

What will it do to humans?

Very little.

The lab tests are done, and volunteers

have started the human trials.

The human effect is only mild

flu-like symptoms.

That's as bad as it should get.

The vampire effect...

...is rather like...

...the Ebola virus.

Agent Grant, report to 71 st Street.

The Freudian Building.

Right. Her name's Barbara Steel.

Died around 4:
30 a. M.

Sophomore at the university.

Christ! Kellman's daughter

goes there.

Apartment's owned by Graf Orlock,

psychiatrist. He saw patients there.

- Anybody locate him yet?

- Nope.

We put out an APB,

but nobody's seen him in 3 days.

Anybody see her come in?

Doorman? Security camera?

No. That's what I don't get.

There's security cameras everywhere.

In the lobby, on the roof.

We reviewed the tapes, but nothing.

One of Orlock's patients?

No idea. His appointment book

is missing.

Sewage.

Is there a way to the sewers?

There's a drain down in the basement,

I think.

The superintendent,

he can tell you more.

But I tell you:

If the killer got in that way, he

must be some kind of Olympic acrobat.

So, is this Orlock one of you?

Yes.

When were you gonna tell me?

- Orlock didn't kill that poor girl.

- Why not?

He's one of Cross' strongest

supporters. He has no motive.

Something you'll learn...

...sometimes being a sick f***

is all the motive you need.

Hello?

Anybody home?

There's a book in the fire!

Aaron, where the f*** are you?

Sh*t! Sh*t! Aaron!

Get the book!

F***.

Come on, let's take this a**hole!

- He's gone.

- All that was for nothing?

Not quite nothing.

It was him. The one who killed Phil.

Are you sure?

Your senses are heightened, right?

Did you recognize him?

- His smell? Anything?

- No.

The odour of burning flesh

overpowered everything else.

There are pages missing.

He was...

...ripping them out...

...and burning them individually...

...till he heard you coming

and threw the whole book in.

The leather protected it.

Most of the interior is intact.

Appointment next week.

"Albert P. 52." Who's Albert P.?

- He wasn't planning on disappearing.

- No. Exactly the opposite.

- Any meetings today?

- Lucy Westenra.

Somebody you know?

Thanks.

For what?

For saving my life.

Just doing my job.

If somebody saves your life,

don't act like it's nothing.

Wouldn't be human.

You're supposed to say something.

- Supposed to give him his props.

- Props?

- What is " props"?

- Proper respect.

R- E-S-P-E-C-T.

Ah, respect.

That's a big-ass house.

What is " big-ass"?

Excuse me.

It's time for his medicine.

What, the f***ing cat's a vampire?

They're born killers, Lucy.

If you provoke them, they'll

act on their natural instincts.

I doubt your friend

finds that attitude reassuring.

You could say the same about us.

You're Steven Grant, aren't you?

The man who's going to save us

from ourselves.

Your name was in Orlock's book.

He's my therapist. I have a session.

When is the last time

you spoke to him?

When I made the appointment.

What do you know about

the dead girl in his apartment?

I didn't know there was one.

You don't sound surprised.

I didn't think this was a social call.

You think Orlock is your rogue?

Ridiculous. He has no motive.

I love the way everybody talks about

motive like it's a big mystery.

He got tired of decaf,

felt like sucking real blood.

Maybe he invited you

for a taste of the real thing.

I don't suck human blood,

Detective Grant.

And if I did, would I rob

some little college girl of hers?

No.

I'd hunt for some real red meat.

You have an alibi for 4:30 a. M.?

I was at an after-hours club.

That proves jack sh*t.

Since when must I prove anything

to you, detective?

Anyway, ask the owner.

His name is Boudreaux.

I was there from 2 until 6.

Here's the phone number.

So this came from that address?

Where'd you get this?

Orlock's apartment.

Interesting.

What is Orlock's connection

with Boudreaux?

It has to do with Orlock's habits.

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