Trophy Girl
     Forever Knight, Season 3, episode 8
     Written by Michael Sadowski
     Transcribed by Marg Baskin
     Proofread by Nancy Warlocke

Guest Cast:
     Christopher Scheer..........................Alan C. Peterson
     Suspect #1.........................................Ken Smith
     Suspect #2.....................................Randy Butcher
     Ingrid Marr......................................Ellen Dubin
     Heather......................................Mary Jo Eustace
     Manny.........................................Dwight Bacquie
     Liselle........................................Polly Shannon
     Urs...........................................Kristin Lehman
     Jeffrey.......................................Douglas Miller
     Sedrick.........................................Doug O'Keefe
     Bateman (Cop).................................Brian Kaulback

TEASER

[SCENE: A slow pan up the figure of a woman dressed in lingerie. 
As the camera advances, it becomes apparent that the woman is 
dead. A male figure, wearing surgical gloves and mask, approaches 
her and begins to remove her nylons and jewelry, etc. His 
movements are caressing. He draws "cut here" lines around her 
wrists and throat with a magic marker, then picks up an electric 
saw. The final image shows him wrapping the woman's body in a 
trash bag, and dumping it into Toronto Harbor.]

OPENING CREDITS

[SCENE: An alley. Nick and Tracy are in pursuit of a pair of drug 
dealers. Nick takes to the air, locates his man, and captures 
him.]

Nick: Let's go.

[Meanwhile, Tracy is pursuing her quarry on foot. The perp takes 
cover behind a dumpster, and fires on her. She fires back, and 
the perp falls.]

Tracy: Freeze, right where you are. 

[There is no movement or response. Tracy carefully edges forward 
until she can see the man lying on the ground, dead. Nick arrives 
a few seconds later.]

Nick: Tracy. Are you okay? Tracy?

Tracy: [stricken] I killed him.

[SCENE: the same location, later. Cop cars and officers are 
present now, handling the scene.]

Detective: [background] Yeah. Look at this...

[Tracy is sitting in the Cadillac, waiting. Nick joins her.]

Nick: I don't think this is going to be a problem with I. A... 

[She doesn't answer.]

Nick: Trace?

[He gets into the car.]

Nick: [studiously upbeat] Well, we're done here. We can go.

[Tracy continues to stare straight ahead, seeming oblivious to 
his presence.]

Nick: Tracy, you with me?

[She shakes herself out of the daze, and finally looks at him.]

Tracy: Yeah, I'm fine... I'm fine.

Nick: [studying her] Okay. I'd better drive you home.

[They drive away. Tracy sinks back into her daze.]

Nick: Um... I'll come home with you. Spend some time, if you 
want. There's no problem.

Tracy: No... Thanks.

Nick: Okay... You're going to have to ride this one out at a desk 
for a few days, you know that?

Tracy: Yeah, I know... Nick--

[The dispatch radio interrupts.]

Dispatcher: 81-Kilo, respond to a 10-54, body in the water, 
Cherry Beach and Lakeshore. Units on scene. Coroner rolling.

Nick: [into the radio] 81-Kilo--hold on.... [to Tracy] I can do 
this myself.

Tracy: No, my place is out of the way. Let's just go. Maybe I 
need some distraction.

Nick: [into the radio] 81-Kilo, responding.

[SCENE: somewhere near the Harbor. Nick and Tracy have met 
Natalie on their way to the crime scene.]

Natalie: Brace yourselves. Tugboat captain found her. Divers 
brought her in about twenty minutes ago. I'm told it is not an 
extremely pretty sight. 

Nick: How long had she been in the water?

Natalie: You're asking me? I just arrived. One thing for certain, 
though: she did not drown. 

[They reach the body, which is lying on the ground, covered by a 
plastic. Natalie squats down and pulls back the covering.]

Natalie: She was decapitated. They cut off her hands, too.

[At sight of the body, Tracy looks as though she's going to be 
sick.]

Nick: Are you all right with this?

[Tracy shakes her head, turns, and walks quickly away.]

Natalie: [sympathetically] Boy, do I remember that.

Nick: It's not just this. She got in a shoot-out tonight. She 
won.

[He goes over to Tracy.]

Tracy: [pulling herself together] I'm fine. I'll be fine. Why 
would someone do this?

Nick: Let me get a unit to take you home. Come on.

[He leads her away from the site.]

[SCENE: the morgue.]

Nick: I've heard of it happening in Central America. Haiti. The 
head and the hands are cut off to hide the victim's identity. Or 
it could be mob-related.

Natalie: No, I'd have to say no to both theories. The work is too 
precise. It was very cleanly done. No shattering or splintering 
of the radii, ulna, or vertebrae, which one would expect if a 
blunt instrument had been used to sever the appendages. No, I 
would have to say that you are looking for someone with surgical 
skills. And that's the good news. The bad news is that doesn't 
necessarily mean he or she is a surgeon.

Nick: Could be anything from a med student to a butcher.

Natalie: Tracy going to be okay?

Nick: Well, after what she's been through tonight... It takes 
time.

Natalie: Ah, speaking of time, I would say that the body was in 
the water for no more than forty-eight hours.

Nick: Are you sure there's no evidence of rape?

Natalie: Yeah, I'm sure--although that doesn't mean that the 
assault wasn't sexually motivated.

Nick: And does anything you've found indicate what it is?

Natalie: Well, there was some scarring on her lower back. It 
looks like she had minor surgery recently. I suppose I could X-
ray it and see what was corrected.

Nick: We could track that, right?

Natalie: Don't see why not.

[SCENE: the precinct, the following night. Reese is heading for 
his office, with Nick and Tracy trailing behind.]

Reese: Three days off. I don't make the rules.

Tracy: But it's at your discretion.

Reese: Exactly. I could either tie you to your desk, or I could 
send you home. My call; I made it.

Nick: It's just a cooling-off period. It's not a suspension.

Tracy: Captain, hear me out, okay? I killed someone. Line of 
duty, self-defense, whatever. I killed someone and I can handle 
it. What? [looking from one of them to the other] I'm a rookie? A 
woman? What?

[Reese continues on into his office without answering her.]

Nick: [quietly] It's just three days. If you want to talk about 
it, I'm here.

[Tracy walks away. Nick follows Reese to his office.]

Reese: You think you can get a quick ID on the girl?

Nick: [from the office doorway] Natalie's on that right now. I'm 
cross referencing with missing persons.

[Reese picks up a photo of the corpse and stares at it.]

Reese: Ah, man.... I've seen some hellish sights, Nick. Read all 
the psycho profiles you want to name. And I don't care however 
many reasons they come up with to explain this kind of... 
perverted sickness, no one's going to tell me they understand it.

Nick: Maybe the only people who understand it is someone who's 
done it.

[Nick hands Reese a case file on Christopher Scheer.]

Reese: Oh. The mortician. Yeah, I remember him. About ten years 
ago. The guy who was hording all those body parts.

Nick: And bodies. Christopher Scheer. They've got him in Oakridge.

Reese: You think a certified wack-job like him is going to talk 
to you? And don't say you'll make him an offer he can't refuse, 
because we're in no position to offer any kind of clemency to 
this guy. He'll be serving time until the afterlife.

Nick: Well, maybe there's something else we've got that he wants.

[Natalie hurries into Reese's office, with a triumphant 
expression, waving a piece of paper.]

Natalie: I got it. There's only one case that fits her 
description. A woman had surgery to correct a disc alignment at 
Scarborough Grace five weeks ago. Deena Ellis. Twenty-six.

Nick: Hold on... Deena Ellis. I think I've got her here. [pulls 
a piece of paper from his pocket] Yeah, look--reported missing by 
her employer four days ago. According to this she works at an 
escort service. The Palomar Agency. 

[CUT to Tracy, who is standing just outside the open door to 
Reese's office, talking to a uniformed officer. She's within 
hearing distance, and as Nick mentions the "Palomar Agency" she 
starts paying attention. As soon as the officer says "thank you 
very much", and leaves her, she disappears.]

Nick: What was the cause of death?

Natalie: Well, aside from the amputations, which I believe were 
done after the victim was killed, there are no other signs of 
injury to the body. I'm running a full toxicology panel right 
now.

Nick: Okay, I'm on her employer.

Reese: Right. I'll see if I can get you into that insane asylum.

Natalie: Hey, where's, uh, where's Trace?

[Nick and Reese both look uncomfortable, but neither one answers 
her question. Nick heads out the door.]

[SCENE: the squad room. Nat has located Tracy, who is pretending 
an interest in some files.]

Natalie: Well, what the hell. Maybe a little time off would do 
you some good.

Tracy: I don't need the special consideration. The guys in there 
just figure I don't have the stomach for the job.

Natalie: No, not Nick, I know him better than that. [trying to be 
the voice of reason] Look, Trace, it's not easy for any police 
officer to do what you had to do last night.

Tracy: I appreciate your concern, but I have to prove that I can 
hack it here. It's part of my job.

Natalie: Well, if you ever need to talk about it...

Tracy: Thanks--but I don't think I will.

[Walks away.]

Natalie: [softly, to Tracy's retreating back] You might.

[SCENE: The locker room at the precinct. Tracy is sitting alone, 
staring into space. She goes to her locker, pulls out her purse, 
but as she touches her gun, she starts to flash back on the shoot 
out, and the drug dealer's death. She puts the gun back in the 
locker, and begins to cry.]

COMMERCIAL 

[SCENE: The offices of the Palomar Agency. Nick is informing 
Ingrid Marr, who runs the escort agency, of her employee's 
death.]

Ingrid: Are you sure it's her?

Nick: We can't be absolutely certain until we've done some tests, 
and... recovered certain evidence, but we're pretty sure it's 
her. If you don't mind, Miss Marr, I'd like to see a list of all 
your clients.

Ingrid: I assure you, all my clients are screened.

Nick: And your employees. Addresses. Phone numbers. Everything 
you've got.

Ingrid: I take care of my girls, Detective Knight, just like I 
take care of my customers. Everything about my business is 
legitimate. Totally above board. I run a dating service. Period.

Nick: And you protest too much. No one's accused you of 
anything... yet.

Ingrid: They're in my desk. Master file. Feel free to run it down 
as you like. Everyone associated with the agency is in it. If 
Deena was killed. it wasn't by one of them.

[Nick picks up the file.]

Nick: Thanks for your cooperation. I'll let you know when we get 
a positive ID. And you'll let me know if there are any additions 
to this list, okay?

Ingrid: Of course.

Nick: Thanks.

[He leaves the office.]

[SCENE: The same office, but during the day. Ingrid is staring 
out the window at the city.]

Ingrid: [pulling herself from the daze.] Mm. I'm sorry, I was 
just spacing out there for a minute. I like your look. You have a 
good resume, and I want to work with you--but you have to want to 
work with me.

[She sits down at her desk, at which point it can be seen that 
the woman she's interviewing is Tracy. The door opens, and 
another employee, Heather, enters.]

Heather: Oh, sorry, Ingrid. I didn't know you had someone in 
here.

Ingrid: That's okay. We're almost finished. Heather, I'd like you 
to meet our newest addition. This is Tracy, from Vancouver. She 
worked at the Blackburn Agency there.

Tracy: Hi.

Heather: Hi. Welcome aboard. I know the Blackburn Agency. Do you 
know Jennifer?

Tracy: [after a brief hesitation] Uh, there's a few Jennifers 
there.

Heather: Oh, well--she was probably before your time, anyway. 
Okay. See you later.

[She leaves.]

Tracy: [grinning at Ingrid] I guess this is my lucky day.

Ingrid: We're always looking for fresh faces, Tracy. That's how 
we stay alive in this business. Welcome aboard.

[SCENE: nighttime. Nick arrives at the asylum where Christopher 
Scheer is being detained. Manny, one of the guards, is briefing 
him before they enter the cell block.]

Manny: You don't want to get him worked up, that's for sure. And, 
uh, no one goes into his cell. Can't let you take your weapon 
with you, either. Can't take the chance. 

[Nick hands his pistol to the guard outside the cell block.]

Manny: He's about as spooky as they come. Likes to get inside 
your head. Had guards on this block just up and quit 'cause they 
don't like being around him. Say he's psychic. Looks right into 
your soul or something. Personally, I think he's full of it.

[They head for Scheer's cell.]

Nick: Well, he's got to like me. I'm his first visitor in months.

Manny: Hey, Scheer, lucky you, you got a visitor. 

[Scheer, a large man, casually dressed, is stretched out on his 
bunk. He sits up.]

Scheer: Ah, another writer. Oh, forgive me--a journalist. Fact 
finding, hard hitting, sniffing in the sewer for his award-
winning expose. 

[He takes a second, more interested, look at Nick.]

Scheer: Or am I mistaken?

Nick: You're mistaken.

Scheer: Well, whoever he is, he doesn't get a story unless he 
comes inside, Manny... But I suppose that's a moot point.

Manny: No one gets in, Scheer.

Scheer: Oh, well--rules, you see. So sorry--perhaps another time.

Manny: [to Nick] Sorry, Detective.

Scheer: Well, that's too bad. You're a cop. Another cop. 

Nick: [to Manny, in his hypnotic voice] Open it up... Open it up. 

[Manny obeys, and Nick enters the cell.]

Nick: [hypnotic voice] There's no need to check on me.

[Manny wanders off.]

Scheer: [fascinated] Manny's not usually that agreeable.

Nick: Official business. I'm in no danger, am I, Mr. Scheer?

Scheer: Ah, of course not. Perfectly safe. Won't you have a seat?

Nick: Detective Knight, Metro Homicide.

Scheer: Homicide? And you want something?

Nick: Information.

Scheer: [thoughtfully] No... You want insight.

[SCENE: The Palomar Agency. Tracy is alone in Ingrid's office. 
She's dressed up, and is grabbing a quick, surreptitious look 
around while she waits for Ingrid to arrive. Tracy hears Ingrid 
approaching, and hastily takes a seat, just as Ingrid enters. The 
whole time she's in the office, someone is watching her from 
across the street through a telescope.]

Ingrid: Well, ready to have some fun?

Tracy: Sure am.

Ingrid: You're going to love him to pieces. He is absolutely 
fabulous. He's handsome. He's got money up the you-know-what, and 
he's as eligible as they come.

[She hands over a piece of paper.]

Tracy: [reading] The Raven?

Ingrid: Oh, a little edge-of-the-envelope club on the other side 
of town. He works close to there. What you'll do is you'll meet 
him there, and then it's off to the Commerce Awards dinner 
tonight. Oh, he got stuck for a girl at the last minute. Helps 
his cause to have a pretty girl on his arm. You know what I mean.

Tracy: [softly] Trophy girl.

Ingrid: What did you say, sweetie?

Tracy: [cheerfully] I said I'm his girl.

[SCENE: Tracy leaves the Palomar Agency, and returns to her car. 
The unknown observer continues to watch her via telescope until 
she drives away.]

COMMERCIAL

[SCENE: Scheer's cell at the asylum. Nick has given Scheer photos 
of Deena's corpse.]

Scheer: Ah, now, that's some nice piece of work. A real sickie. 
No doubt he'll do it again. [hopefully] Do you mind if I keep 
these? 

[Disgusted by the degree to which the images are turning Scheer 
on, Nick snatches them back.]

Scheer: You didn't come here just to give me a thrill. You have 
questions--questions I know the answers to.

Nick: [waving the photos] I want to know why.

Scheer: [amused] Huh! The very cops that hunted me down like a 
wild pig crawl to me for insight into the twisted criminal mind. 
Rosebud would enjoy the irony of that.

Nick: Rosebud? All right, I'll ask.

Scheer: Rosebud, my, uh... my Internet friend. My email penpal. 
On-line is my... should I say *was* my lifeline to the outside. 
It's so hard to find like-minded souls when you're... unique. 
Let's cut to the chase, Detective. You came here to pick my 
brain, but you don't get in for free.

Nick: All right, we'll trade.

Scheer: Okay. I talk and I walk. [laughs] Not hardly likely, huh? 
[thoughtfully] You're not afraid of me. No fear at all.

Nick: Why should I fear you?

Scheer: Why? Because I'm a killer. Killing is what I am. And so I 
ask myself "what is it which we fear the least?" [points a finger 
at Nick] We fear the least that which we recognize. 

Nick: [coldly] I am nothing like you.

Scheer: Oh, I don't believe that. You've killed many times. Don't 
deny it. You've seen death in all its glory, and you've been 
drawn to it. It compels you in ways that shock you, frighten you, 
thrill you. [laughs] And they gave you a badge.

Nick: Then we understand each other.

Scheer: It's good to have friends.

Nick: [disgusted] I need your help.

Scheer: Then tell the concierge of this dump that I want my 
computer privileges back.

Nick: So you can commune with Rosebud on the Internet?

Scheer: Among others. The warden... the warden cut me off, I don't 
know why. There's no phone in here, and the computer they gave me 
doesn't even have a modem. I had to hand over all my disks for 
him to screen and censor. He's afraid of me. He thinks he can't 
control me. We always suppress that which we can't control. 
Something else I think both of us understand, isn't that right, 
my friend?

Nick: I'll talk to him. Your turn.

Scheer: You ask "why?" Why did I...? Tell me, hasn't there ever 
been anything so precious in your life you couldn't let it go? So 
rare and beautiful you felt compelled to protect it. Preserve it.

[CUT to FLASHBACK: A beautiful, young woman, Liselle, within a 
period bedroom. She's wandering aimlessly, looking bored or lost. 
The door opens, and LaCroix enters. Liselle runs to him and flings 
herself into his arms. They kiss passionately, while Nick watches 
them through the window.]

[CUT to Scheer's cell.]

Scheer: You protect and serve. I protect and preserve. I was an 
artist in my own right. A preservationist.

Nick: [disgusted] You're a taxidermist. You did experiments on 
human beings.

Scheer: [amused] And now? I've got a copycat, haven't I?

[SCENE: the Raven. Urs is sitting at the bar, with Vachon beside 
her. Urs looks towards the street door in time to see Tracy enter 
the club.]

Urs: Hey, isn't that you-know-who? Nick's partner?

[Vachon looks over, and does a double-take at the sight of Tracy 
so dressed up.]

Vachon: It's either her or her evil twin sister.

Urs: She has a twin sister?

[Vachon glares at her in disbelief, then peers around her, 
watching as Tracy meets her "date", Jeffrey. Visually, at least, 
Jeffrey is everything Ingrid promised: handsome and elegantly 
dressed.]

Jeffrey: Hi. You must be Tracy.

[Jeffrey kisses Tracy on the cheek.]

Urs: [grinning] I don't think she's looking for you after all.

[Tracy and Jeffrey leave.]

Vachon: [annoyed or jealous] Am I mistaken, or did that look 
totally weird to you? 

[Urs shrugs, but Vachon is no longer paying any attention to 
her.]

Vachon: Me, too.

[He follows Tracy out into the street.]

[SCENE: Tracy and Jeffrey come out the front door of the Raven, 
and approach Jeffrey's limo, which is parked almost in front of 
the club.]

Tracy: That certainly is a different sort of place.

Jeffrey: Mm, they do get an interesting mix, don't they? Good 
people watching... and whatever else they are in there. 

[Vachon pops out the door of the Raven, spots them, and heads for 
Tracy.]

Jeffrey: [as they arrive at the limo] Better hurry if we're going 
to make this affair. Can't promise anything special, mind you. 
It's usually a pretty dull thing.

Vachon: Tracy... Tracy Vetter... Is that you?

[Tracy looks appalled, but tries to run with the situation.]

Tracy: Javier.... how nice to see you.

[She holds out her hand to him.]

Vachon: You're looking uncharacteristically gorgeous tonight.

[Tracy rolls her eyes at the comment. As he kisses her hand 
Vachon stares at Jeffrey, who isn't amused by the interruption.]

Jeffrey: You'll excuse us, we have to run.

Vachon: Only in a minute.

Tracy: [desperately] Javier, you know we really do have to run.

Vachon: Yeah, sure, okay, but--it's about that private matter. I 
gotta tell you--

[Tracy looks daggers at him, but he still doesn't take the hint.]

Jeffrey: Hey, fella--you heard the lady. We're running late.

[Tracy's expression changes to concern. She peers sideways at 
Vachon, worried by what he might do next.]

Vachon: [hypnotic voice] The lady is a good friend. Get lost.

[Turning into a zombie, Jeffrey turns away and climbs into the 
limo.]

Tracy: Jeffrey? Jeffrey? 

[The limo drives off, and Tracy turns on Vachon.]

Tracy: Y'know, you ought to keep that hypno-thing in your 
holster.

Vachon: Sorry, it gets away from me sometimes.

[Tracy looks down the street, after the departed limo.]

Tracy: Is he okay?

Vachon: Yeah. He has no idea where he's going, but he's okay. 
So... [He indicates her fancy clothes] ...what's the deal?

Tracy: [annoyed] The blown deal. I'm undercover, Vachon.

Vachon: Oh... [stammering] I thought maybe... Well, you could--I 
didn't know, you could have been in--

Tracy: [really angry now] In some kind of trouble? Why is it that 
everyone assumes that I need their help. I am a cop, for God 
sakes.

[The intensity of her mood catches him off guard.]

Vachon: [uncertainly] Are you okay?

Tracy: Yes.

[Tracy stalks off. Vachon watches her go, puzzled, then throws up 
his arms and heads back to the Raven. Tracy continues down the 
street to her car, only to discover it has a flat tire.]

Tracy: [staring at the flat] Oh, perfect. Look at this. 

[Talking to herself in annoyance, she pulls out the jack and 
starts trying to change it.]

Tracy: [muttering] No problem. Should have taken the three days 
off, but no, Tracy has to keep busy...

[The nuts on the wheel refuse to turn, and she's getting nowhere. 
She's startled as a man--Efram Sedrick--walking by speaks to 
her.]

Sedrick: A flat tire will cut into anyone's busy day. Can I, uh, 
help?

Tracy: [standing up hastily] Uh, no. Thank you. Actually, I'm a 
police officer.

[Sedrick puts a hand to his heart in exaggerated relief.]

Sedrick: Oh! Then I'm safe! Please... I'd... I'd love to help.

Tracy: Okay. Look, I'm having a problem loosening these things.

Sedrick: Well, why don't you let me? All these hours in the gym 
hopefully have paid off in some small way. 

[He takes off his suit jacket, folds it over his arm, then 
approaches her.]

Sedrick: Will you hold this for me?

Tracy: Sure.

[Sedrick extends the jacket, but when Tracy reaches for it, she 
jumps in surprise. Sedrick pulls the jacket aside, revealing the 
hypodermic needle which he has rammed into her palm.]

Sedrick: How about that? Does that feel good? 

[As Tracy starts to fall, Sedrick catches her, holding her to him 
in an embrace.]

Sedrick: [laughing] I got you. I got you, beautiful.

[Grinning, he looks around at the deserted street, to be sure no 
one has observed.]

COMMERCIAL

[SCENE: Nick returns to the asylum. As Manny walks 
away--hypnotized again--Nick turns to Scheer.]

Nick: I spoke with the warden.

Scheer: Charming man, isn't he?

Nick: You'll get your computer time back when and if any 
cooperation you give results in an arrest.

Scheer: Ah. A long-sought opportunity for rehabilitation. 

[He considers the offer for a moment, then begins to talk.]

Scheer: Your man--or your woman--is a collector. He likes to 
acquire things. Own them. Control them. He has financial 
resources, as I did, and resourcefulness, but he's restless. 
Always searching. In need of new challenges. He moves. Look for 
movement, city to city. Maybe even between countries. He fights 
the urge to satisfy his sickness for a while, but he gives in. 
Then he gets nervous, so he packs up and moves on. The next 
place. On to the next victim. Above all, he needs things. Tools. 
Supplies of a very esoteric sort. Purchases you can track, if you 
know where to look. And he requires a facility. A place that 
affords privacy where he can... indulge himself.... [sighs 
wistfully] How I miss those days... They were so... essential...

Nick: And the victims. How are they selected?

Scheer: Well, it's not random. It's a matter of proximity. It's 
quite delightful to take one that's been right under your nose. 
He waits, and he watches. There's pleasure in the waiting, you 
know. Pleasure in the anticipation...

[CUT to FLASHBACK: Liselle is lying on the bed, asleep or 
unconscious. LaCroix sits beside her, watching her, while Nick 
hovers.]

LaCroix: As lovely as I've ever seen. Wine and honey, Nicholas. 
[He stands up and picks up a goblet from a nearby table.] One 
must sweeten the essence with sustenance that one cannot partake 
of oneself. One must take time, Nicholas, to prepare. To perfect 
them for the taking. It adds considerably to the pleasure.

[Nick sits down in the spot LaCroix abandoned, and gazes at 
Liselle's face.]

Nick: Will you bring her across?

LaCroix: Then I would have her with me for all eternity. Would 
that she were a less annoying woman. No. I will drink my fill and 
then be gone. On to new game.

Nick: It seems such a waste. Such a tragedy.

LaCroix: [irritated] Tragedy, Nicholas? Tragedy is not a word 
that I think I've heard you use before. It is not a word that has 
anything to do with any of my business. It is not a word that I 
like.

[CUT to Scheer's cell.]

Scheer: Detective, you seem to be enjoying this as much as I. I 
was right about you. We are kindred souls.

[SCENE: LaCroix on the air as the Nightcrawler. He's reading the 
newspaper, which shows the headline "Gruesome Find Stumps P.D." 
Nick is listening on the radio as he drives across town.]

LaCroix: They say no two persons are alike. Never is that more 
true than when it comes to our desires. Some cherish what others 
abhor. One man's precious cargo is another man's poison. Some 
prize what others revile. Prize what you will. Prize what you 
can. But always remember---even he who dies with the most 
prizes... still dies.

[CUT to FLASHBACK: Nick rushes into Liselle's room, and wakes her 
from sleep.]

Nick: Liselle... Liselle, wake up. 

Liselle: Ah... LaCroix?

Nick: [subtitle for French dialogue] It's Nicholas. Listen to 
me...

[He drags her to her feet.]

Nick: You must leave here. You must leave here at once. You must 
get as far away from LaCroix as you can. He has dark designs on 
you. You are but a prize to him, Liselle. 

[Nick brushes his fingers across her face.]

Nick: One as fair as you... as beautiful as you... deserves much 
better than...

Liselle: [subtitle for French dialogue] Your concern is touching, 
Sir Nicholas. But misplaced, I fear.

[Nick pulls her closer to him, and she smiles.]

Liselle: [subtitle for French dialogue] You have never held me like 
this. It's... very nice.

[They kiss.]

Liselle: [subtitle for French dialogue] I must confess that I like 
it.

[Nick kisses her again and matters escalate.]

Liselle: [moaning] Nicolas...

[Eventually, Nick bites and drains her. LaCroix is standing in 
the doorway, watching. When Nick drops Liselle's corpse onto the 
bed, LaCroix grabs him and slams him back against a wall.]

Nick: I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I don't know... I was only trying to 
protect her.

[LaCroix reaches up, brushes his fingers through the blood which 
dribbles from the corner of Nick's mouth, then licks it.]

LaCroix: Intoxicating, wasn't she?

[CUT to the present. Nick is in the Cadillac--parked, 
fortunately--while his mind wanders the past. He's dragged out of 
memories by Vachon landing in the back seat.]

Vachon: [leaning over Nick's shoulder] Cars are sexier with fins, 
don't you think? More predatory.

Nick: [smiling] For me it's a question of trunk space.

Vachon: Pragmatist. [sits down] Speaking of which, what's with 
your partner?

Nick: Leave of absence. She's off-duty. She got involved in a 
shooting the other night. Drug dealer. She had no choice. It's 
rough for a cop, no matter what anyone says.

Vachon: Is she okay with it?

Nick: Well, she doesn't say otherwise to me. [smiling] She might 
be more forthcoming with you.

Vachon: Not right now, she won't.

Nick: Meaning?

Vachon: She was in the club earlier. Dressed to kill. She met 
some guy there. I'm afraid I kind of alienated him.

Nick: Alienated?

Vachon: Yeah, I think that's the word for it. Anyway, she said 
she was undercover or something.

[Looking concerned, Nick turns on the engine, then gazes back at 
the other vampire.]

Nick: Are you riding along, or what?

Vachon: No, I think I should stay out of this.

[Vachon flies off.]

[SCENE: the precinct. Nick is holding a phone, listening to an 
unanswered ring.]

[CUT to Tracy's cell phone, which is ringing softly. Tracy is 
lying beside it, unconscious and bound hand and foot. A stiff, 
female hand begins to stroke her hair, brush across her face. As 
the camera pulls back, we see that the hand is severed. It is 
being held by Sedrick, who is sitting beside Tracy. Tracy stirs, 
looks up, realizes what is happening, and hastily ducks away from 
him. 

Sedrick: [putting the female hand to his lips, playfully.] Shhhh. 

[Looking queasy, Tracy sags back against the wall.]

Sedrick: How are you feeling? A little hungover? I'm sorry--I'm 
Efram Sedrick. And you are the prettiest girl that I have ever 
seen.

COMMERCIAL

[SCENE: the precinct. Nick talking to Reese as they head for his 
office.]

Nick: Has Tracy called you in the last little while?

Reese: Nah. I doubt she'll even want to talk to me after her 
three days are up. Is there a problem?

Nick: Well, I'm not sure.

Reese: Nah, she'll be all right, Nick. Just needs the time.

Nick: Actually, that's not it.

Reese: Well, then, Detective, what is it actually?

Nick: She may have gone undercover. Escort Agency.

Reese: [disbelieving] Say that again.

Nick: Sorry, Cap. She never really talked to me about it.

[Reese goes over to his desk, picks up a report, and hands it to 
Nick.]

Reese: Just got something in from research. They found a pattern. 
Escort services in every case. Portland. Chicago. Detroit. All 
turned up like Deena Ellis did. If Vetter is undercover she's 
playing with fire.

Nick: She's a good cop.

Reese: Then why haven't we heard from her?

Nick: Well, if she's on to something, maybe she can't risk a 
call.

Reese: [angry] If she's on to something, she should be calling in 
for back-up. She knows the drill. No... No, I want to put an APB 
out on her.

Nick: It's already done.

Reese: All right, all right--look. Let's think through this 
thing. Could one of these Internet geeks be Scheer's copycat?

Nick: Nah, it's doubtful. I tracked them down. One in Arizona. 
One in London. He's only got one of his regular correspondents 
here in Toronto.

Reese: Which one's that?

Nick: Rosebud. We're trying to get a positive ID on him now. It's 
a pseudonym. You can be as anonymous as you want on the Internet. 
Captain, I read Scheer's email. He's not enticing anyone to 
follow in his footsteps, from what I can tell.

Reese: Escort agency clients?

Nick: Yeah. Mostly out-of-towners. We're checking on it, but I 
don't think we're going to find our guy here, either. Ingrid Marr 
screens all of her clients thoroughly.

[Natalie enters the office, waving a report.]

Natalie: Toxicology report. Cause of Deena Ellis's death: lethal 
dose of thiobarbitol. Fastest acting barbiturate you can find. 
And not exactly easy for the average person to obtain.

Nick: Have you heard from Tracy?

Natalie: Not since I talked to her on the way out. She was pretty 
upset--with you guys. About her suspension.

Reese: It's not a suspension.

Natalie: Well, she thinks it is, and she feels like she's got to 
prove herself.

Reese: She said that to you? Prove herself?

Natalie: Something like that, yeah.

Nick: Yeah, and you encouraged her.

Natalie: [annoyed] Hey, hey, hey, look--we're all a little tired, 
okay? I just offered the girl a little support.

[A uniformed cop comes to the doorway, and knocks to get their 
attention.]

Cop: Detective Knight? Did you put out an APB on Detective 
Vetter?

Nick: Sure did.

Cop: Hm. Traffic just found her car near John and Richmond with a 
flat tire. Looks like she left in the middle of changing it.

[SCENE: at Tracy's abandoned car. Reese, Nick and various 
uniformed cops are present.]

Reese: Don't like it. Don't like it one bit. 

[He catches the attention of a passing uniformed cop.]

Reese: Officer--

Cop: Yes, sir?

Reese: Resend that APB on Detective Vetter. Highest priority.

Nick: And get forensics down here to dust this stuff for prints. 
I'll check her place. Could be she's not answering her phone. 
Could be at her parents. 

Reese: Yeah. Yeah, but... 

[Nick walks away, leaving a concerned-looking Reese muttering to 
himself.]

Reese: Sure, I'll tell her father she turned up missing... How 
come I'm the captain, and I always get the dirtiest damned jobs?

[SCENE: the basement where Sedrick is holding Tracy prisoner. 
Sedrick is playing with Tracy's pistol. He removes the clip and 
puts it in his pocket.]

Sedrick: Your gun. Nasty gun for such a pretty girl. 

[He continues rooting through her purse, and finds her badge and 
ID.]

Sedrick: Tracy... I love that name, Tracy. I don't have any 
Tracys. A homicide detective? Wow! I definitely don't have any of 
those. This is too weird. I need a minute to digest this. 

[Tracy is surreptitiously fighting with the ropes binding her 
hands behind her back, trying to work them free.]

Sedrick: [spotting the movement] Um, please don't thrash around. 
I don't want you to get any cuts or bruises on that peaches and 
cream complexion.

[Tracy rolls her eyes in disgust.]

Sedrick: And don't scream, because no one will hear you. But more 
importantly, screaming gives me a headache, and if you give me 
one of those, I'll have to kill you. I hate headaches.

[Tracy stares at him with an expression that implies she can't 
quite take him seriously, even though he's probably going to kill 
her. Sedrick rises and heads for the door. Just before leaving, 
he turns back to her.]

Sedrick: Um... I would have fixed you dinner, but I think it's 
probably best that, uh... you don't eat... before surgery.

[He giggles, and walks out.]

[SCENE: Nick is searching Tracy's apartment, trying to find some 
clue to where she is. He listens to the messages on her answering 
machine.]

Barbara Vetter: [voice on answering machine] Tracy, it's your 
mum. Your father got all the dates and times wrong for next week. 
Give me a call, and we'll straighten it out.

[Nick grins, then pays closer attention as the second message 
starts to play out.]

Ingrid: [voice on answering machine] Tracy? Hi, it's Ingrid Marr. 
Something really good has come up. I want to get you up and 
started right away. Call me as soon as you can. Bye, Tracy.

[Nick leaves hastily.]

[SCENE: Ingrid Marr's office. Ingrid enters. Nick is waiting for 
her.]

Ingrid: I got down here as fast as I could.

Nick: Why didn't you tell me you'd added another girl to your 
roster? Tracy? [coldly] She's my partner. She's a cop, and she's 
missing. So if you know anything about anyone involved in this, 
you'd better tell me right now.

Ingrid: Oh, God.

Nick: Was Deena or any of your other girls stalked or 
threatened?

Ingrid: Never. 

[Nick stares out the window idly, then remembers a comment Scheer 
made to him: "Well, it's not random. It's a matter of proximity. 
It's quite delightful to take one that's been right under your 
nose." He takes a closer look at the view and, with a vampire's 
vision, spots the telescope that Sedrick was using to watch the 
windows. Nick leaves hastily.]

[SCENE: Sedrick's office ("Sedrick Brokerage: Estates Division") 
across the street. Nick arrives, and begins to search the place, 
remembering another of Scheer's comments: "He has financial 
resources... Look for movement. City to city. And he requires a 
facility. A place that affords privacy where he can indulge 
himself." There are standard Real Estate display adverts on the 
wall. Nick checks them out, locates on with a "Sold" sign and 
concludes that it fits Scheer's parameters. He leaves the 
office.]

[SCENE: the house Nick saw in the ad, which is where Tracy is 
being held. She manages to work her hands free, and hastily pulls 
the ropes off her ankles. She's still heavily drugged, seeing 
everything as a blur, and having trouble with her coordination. 
When he walked out, Sedrick left her supposedly empty gun behind. 
Tracy grabs it awkwardly.]

Tracy: Come on... One in the chamber.... One in the chamber... 

[She manages to work the action open, and discovers that Sedrick 
did, indeed, forget to eject the single round from the chamber. 
She staggers to the door, and kicks it open. Outside is a cellar 
lined with various shelves, several of which hold glass jars 
filled with dismembered body parts. As she tries to find her way 
out, Tracy hears what sounds like a frightened, female voice 
coming from somewhere in the room.]

Sedrick: Help me, please. I'm in here. He's got me. Oh, God, I'm 
caught. I can't get out... Please... Please, I'm over here. 
Yes... 

[Still very unsteady on her feet, and barely able to see, Tracy 
tries to follow the sound. She sees a hand reaching out towards 
her, and doesn't realize it's a trap until it's too late.]

Sedrick: [switching to his own voice] Help me!

[He drops the severed hand he was using to bait her, and knocks 
Tracy to the floor. Tracy loses her grip on the gun, and 
struggles with him, trying to reach it. Nick crashes in, fully 
vamped out, and drags Sedrick off her. When he flings Sedrick 
away, Sedrick falls against the fuse box and is electrocuted. As 
the killer sags to the floor, Nick turns to Tracy, who is too 
heavily drugged to be really aware of what's happening, and is 
still searching frantically for her pistol. She finally locates 
it, grabs it, and points it at Nick, two-handed.]

Nick: [soothing] Tracy, Tracy, it's me--Nick. It's me. It's okay.

[He approaches her, not noticing that Sedrick is still alive and 
recovering from the shock. The killer grabs an axe, and comes at 
Nick from behind. Tracy shoots him. Nick watches him drop, 
confirming he's really out this time, then kneels down beside 
Tracy.]

COMMERCIAL

[SCENE: outside the house, later. There are cops, forensics 
techs, and ambulances on-scene. Nick and Natalie are inside, in 
the basement.]

Natalie: I gave her a sedative for the trip to the hospital. She 
fought me on it, but I convinced her. You saved her life, Nick.

Nick: She saved mine. I guess we're turning into a pretty good 
partnership.

Natalie: Well, if anybody has proven that they can hack this job, 
she has. She's had quite a night.

Nick: I hope it's the worst she ever has.

Natalie: Oh, that reminds me. FAX for you. It came after you left 
Reese's office. Thought it might be important, so I brought it 
along. 

[She hands the paper to him. Nick reads it, then frowns.]

Natalie: What is it?

Nick: Christopher Scheer's Internet circle. We have a positive ID 
on Rosebud, his email buddy.

Natalie: Oh, yeah? Anybody important?

Nick: [with an odd smile] No. Not really.

[SCENE: LaCroix's office within the Raven. LaCroix is playing on 
the Internet.]

LaCroix: [typing on his PC, with the narration done as voice-
over] My dear friend, it's so good that you are back, and news of 
your most recent adventure was quite entertaining. And the 
circumstances surrounding your reemergence into our loose circle 
of friends inspired quite a flurry of chat. We're all glad that 
you're back. To lose someone of your singular wisdom from our 
forum would have been... quite a tragedy. Welcome back. Stay 
tuned. Yours, as ever, Rosebud.

END CREDITS