Wolfen
- R
- Year:
- 1981
- 115 min
- 583 Views
Ten, nine...
...eight, seven...
...six, five...
...four...
...three, two...
...one!
Here goes.
Bravo, Mr. Van der Veer!
- Yes, Mr. Van der Veer?
- We'll go to the penthouse.
Stop by Battery Park.
Roger, routing change.
Penthouse, ETA:
0615.What will Van der Veer do
at the Battery at 6:00 a.m.?
- Visit his ancestors.
- Whatever he wants.
Roger, Manhattan arrival.
All clear, Romulus.
You've got sector five read-out on three.
Chris?
Darling?
Chris!
Chris!
You scared me!
Darling!
- Did you miss me?
- Yes.
Pauline!
Forget it, kid.
Oh, good. Put him on.
Good morning, it's Warren.
We got a problem.
- You're up early.
- Yeah.
Well, there's a nightmare
down in the Battery.
Three bodies.
Mutilation, possible sexual assault...
...some dismemberment.
Maybe even cannibalism.
I'd love to see it, but I've...
I'm late for Mass
and I got a heavy golf date.
Oh, you'll see it, Dewey.
It's very weird and it's very strange,
just like you. So, it's back to work.
- I'm leaving now. Are you in Staten Island?
- Yeah.
- Get your ass over there as fast as you can.
- How?
Fly!
- How are you?
- Fine.
Food.
- How can you eat that crap?
- It settles my stomach.
Well?
Nothing. I didn't find anything aft, either.
So?
So, what?
So, who got killed? The governor?
Somebody bigger.
Christopher Van der Veer.
Megabucks.
Heir to the fortune,
maybe even the presidency.
So much for heirs.
His bodyguard. His wife is over there.
- Witnesses?
- lf seagulls could talk, sure.
- Kidnapping?
- No sign of a struggle.
Take a look around.
See if you can sniff out anything.
Does this mean I'm back on the job?
- You're a detective, aren't you?
- I'll try and remember that.
- It's a good thing to happen on a Sunday.
- How long...
Oh, Christ!
- Let me handle this.
- I always do.
Commissioner. Mr. Mayor.
You handled that nicely.
This is just wonderful!
God knows what's next.
- Where's the damn coroner?
- We haven't located him yet.
I want him here!
Van der Veer was my friend.
You've got your best man here already.
Any more film, John?
Warren, what the hell happened?
It wasn't robbery.
Their money and jewelry weren't touched.
There was some cocaine.
Party favors. But more than that...
Two factors have the potential
to make this international, Mr. Mayor.
Executions and terrorism.
Makes a bombing seem like child's play.
Excuse me.
Dewey Wilson?
Homicide, kidnapping and results.
I'm sorry, I don't know you.
Jonathan Ross,
Bureau Chief of Executive Security.
His firm's responsible for some
of the top executives in the world.
They have resources we don't have.
No matter how sophisticated
technology gets, there's no guarantee.
God, it stinks down here.
Severely inflicted wounds...
Dew! The old jogging trip?
The six month's annual bionic,
shed-the-twenty-pounds marathon resolve.
Sound mind, sound body.
You got to get into chemicals.
They keep you going.
Your body'll malfunction on you
one way or another.
Yeah. Tell me about it.
Wanna peek?
Something to tell
your grandchildren about.
Took his brain. What the hell
do you suppose they did with it?
Maybe they dribbled it down Wall Street.
I got a hand in a baggie.
It belongs to that guy over there.
Had a gun in it.
SR says he didn't even get a shot off.
How's that for fast?
Fraternity ring?
Pentagram and a goat. Voodoo.
Yeah?
Now, ain't this a shame?
Bizarre, man. It almost severed her head.
- It was instantaneous?
- Instantaneous?
You seen a chicken run around
with its head cut off?
Hey, nobody ever thinks about the head.
During the French Revolution,
when they chopped heads off...
...they'd pick them out the basket
and look them in the face.
Most went out right away, in shock.
Every fifth head or so was alive.
Wide awake...
...eyes blinking,
mouth trying to say something.
Yeah, sure.
The brain can live without oxygen
for more than a minute.
That's a long time, buddy boy.
How'd you like to see your own body
and know you're dead?
Give me a nice death in bed.
Preferably with a partner.
You can take her away now.
Hey, careful with her...
...head.
Well, let's see what happened to my man.
Two bullet holes upside the head!
See! You shouldn't have been f***ing
with that b*tch.
You going to push, man?
I'm working by myself today, right?
Ain't nobody working but me. Sh*t!
- I heard that.
- What's today's special?
- Tennis shoes and jock straps.
A lot of joggers are going out of business.
You check out that dude yet?
Dew!
Weird sh*t happening here, man.
Give us a few more minutes.
How's it going, Captain?
Why do I always have to get
the hard ones?
There's nothing there.
There's nothing there!
Hey, Dew!
The Chief will tell him what we got.
Severance of the jugular and carotids...
...destruction of the esophagus.
Lethal trauma on the throats,
resulting in...
But what's really interesting
is what we haven't got.
There's not a trace of metal.
You know how every piece of metal,
no matter how sharp or smooth...
...will leave a residue when it cuts.
It could be as finite as dust.
Soft x-ray should pick it up.
Nothing!
And nothing softer could have ripped
and ravaged like this.
Some plastic weapon?
Synthetics.
I don't think there's any way
You know, Dew, you could use a haircut.
Want to lie down?
Not till it's my turn.
How's it going?
Identification?
- My face.
- I need credentials.
All that separates you from a guard dog
is a brain.
All right, Captain.
Good dog!
- Hey, Dewey. What's happening?
- Hi, Captain.
- What's this?
- ME's report.
Oh, yeah? What's with the morgue?
No answers to a lot of questions.
- Is that it?
- That's it.
What's the matter with you? You bored?
I'm thinking.
You're just not used to the expression.
Dungeman? Did you find out
what they were doing there?
Anniversary party
with 100 of their closest friends.
We know! We're checking the guest list.
Big party at the family compound.
It breaks up at 5:00 a.m.
They head back to their penthouse.
...a little booze, a little drugs.
They decide to boogie.
They were married there.
- How do you know that?
- I asked.
- You really are thinking.
- It's better than the Sunday crossword.
Maybe.
- Any Jack the Rippers out there?
- No psychos missing from the loony bins.
If it is the Ripper,
the ME can't find a trace of any weapon.
What?
Who knows?
with their hands.
- That driver was a Haitian, right?
- Yeah.
One tough son of a b*tch.
Worth three normals.
Ex-Papa Doc Secret Police.
Ton Ton Macoute.
Van der Veer had
a big liquor import business in the islands.
How that Haitian gets jumped
beats the sh*t out of me.
Voodoo? There's 80 goddamn sects
in Manhattan alone.
Come here, I want to show you something.
The meat and potatoes.
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"Wolfen" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/wolfen_23606>.
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