JACK staggers past, leaving a bloody handprint on the poster. In the distance, a police whistle shrills.
DRAWING ROOM, CHELSEA. INT. NIGHT.
The whistle fades into a piano, played not quite expertly. In the home of FLORENCE STOKER, about fifteen well-dressed men and women gather for a soirée. At the piano is PENELOPE CHURCHWARD, 19, a pretty, calculating girl. Beside her, turning the pages, is ARTHUR HOLMWOOD, Lord Godalming, an elegant new-born vampire.
PENELOPE (sings)
She was only a bird in a gilded cage,
A beautiful sight to see,
You thought she was happy and free from
care,
But she’s not what she seems to be...(etc)
Watching is CHARLES BEAUREGARD, a handsome man in his 30s, less flashy but more stalwart than ARTHUR. By him is KATE REED, 25; a bespectacled new woman (a journalist) rather than an ornament (like PENELOPE). FLORENCE, older than PENELOPE but of the same type, presides. A black-bordered picture of BRAM STOKER, her husband, stands on the mantel. To CHARLES’s well-concealed dislike, ARTHUR tries to exert his power of fascination over PENELOPE. KATE has a crush on CHARLES but realises she has no chance. Discreet servants attend.
PENELOPE (sings)
... for youth should not mate with age.
Her beauty was sold for an old man’s
gold.
She’s a bird in a gilded cage.
ARTHUR, leading the clapping, nuzzles nearer PENELOPE’s exposed neck, tiny fangs poking through his subtle leer. CHARLES steps in, to KATE’s disappointment, and steers PENELOPE out of social danger. PENELOPE accepts all attentions as her due.
FLORENCE (fussing)
Dear friends, dear friends, an announcement is imminent. Charles, Penelope...
CHARLES is reluctant, PENELOPE eager. They are the centre of attention, which he dislikes and she adores.
CHARLES
Very well, Florence. Since Arthur’s ennoblement as Lord Godalming, I am forced to preface my announcement with the traditional address, my lords, ladies and gentlemen...
ARTHUR
Come on, Beauregard. Out with it.
CHARLES
Penelope, ah, Miss Churchward... has done me the honour...
Everybody knows what he means, but he can’t quite say it.
PENELOPE (impatient)
We’re to be married. In the Spring. Next year.
PENELOPE holds CHARLES’s hand, proprietorially. Everyone gathers and makes a fuss.
ARTHUR (shaking CHARLES’s hand crushingly)
Congratulations, old man.
KATE, in tears, hugs PENELOPE.
PENELOPE
Oh Kate, don’t be such a drip.
KATE shakes CHARLES’s hand, unable to speak, then hugs him too.
FLORENCE
There must be a toast.
BESSIE, a maid, brings out a bottle of champagne. FLORENCE holds it up, and ARTHUR takes it.
ARTHUR
Allow me.
FLORENCE
Thank you, Art. I’m so feeble.
ARTHUR’s thumbnail extends like a tiny horn. He hooks it into the cork and flips it out of the bottle. He pours for everyone, but holds up an empty glass himself.
ARTHUR
For me, this is a sad moment. I’ve lost again to my good friend Charles Beauregard. I shall never recover, but I acknowledge Charles as the better man. I trust he will serve my dearest Penny as a husband should. If he fails in his duty, I shall myself, being un-dead, take seriously my obligation to haunt him to the grave. To the beautiful Penelope, and the admirable Charles...
Everyone except ARTHUR drinks the toast. PENELOPE relishes it, CHARLES puts up with it. FLORENCE notices ARTHUR’s empty glass.
FLORENCE
I am so sorry, Art. I was forgetting.
ARTHUR
There’s no need.
FLORENCE
But I insist. Bessie, Lord Godalming doesn’t drink champagne. Would you...
BESSIE, a little frightened, has been through this before. She unbuttons her cuffs. ARTHUR takes her wrist, rolling up the sleeve, and bends as if to kiss her hand. He looks at CHARLES and PENELOPE, eyes flashing red, teeth extending.
ARTHUR
Charles, Penelope, I drink to you...
Opening his mouth wide on jaw-hinges like a cobra, ARTHUR fastens on BESSIE’s wrist, lightly puncturing the skin. He licks away a blood trickle. The company watch, CHARLES swallowing distaste, PENELOPE fascinated. ARTHUR drinks. BESSIE, eyes fluttering somewhere between pain and pleasure, swoons in ARTHUR’s arms.
ARTHUR (smiling bloodily)
I have this effect on women. It’s most inconvenient.
He deposits BESSIE on a divan. In the background, a BUTLER waves smelling salts under her nose, reviving her. PENELOPE links arms with CHARLES, who is momentarily distracted. She smiles, and he is jollied out of his perturbation.
FLORENCE
Now, now. There’ll be plenty of time for that after the wedding. In the mean time, you must be unselfish and share yourselves with the rest of us...
ARTHUR
I claim my right as the vanquished sir knight. A kiss! I claim a kiss from the bride.
CHARLES blanches but PENELOPE lets ARTHUR kiss her cheek, leaving an unremarked blush of blood. Guests press around, separating PENELOPE from CHARLES. He watches her display her engagement ring. Suddenly, swiftly, disturbingly, ARTHUR is beside him. His fangs are vestigial, but the blood has enlivened him.
ARTHUR
Sincerely, Charles, my congratulations. You and Penny must be happy. It is an order. We need more like you. You must turn soon. Things are getting exciting.
CHARLES
Turn?
ARTHUR
You understand, Charles. You must become... as I am.
CHARLES
A vampire.
ARTHUR
Indeed. You can’t know what it’s like. It’s life.
CHARLES
Some say it’s death.
ARTHUR
Pshaw. Penny is lovely, Charles. Loveliness should not be permitted to fade. And we need men of your sort. We’ve an opportunity to make the country strong. The Prince Consort has given us this chance.
CHARLES
Dracula?
ARTHUR
We were so wrong about him in the beginning. Van Helsing and Jack Seward and myself. He came not as a conqueror but as our saviour.
During this exchange, a bell has rung in the hallway. A BUTLER, having answered the door, returns with a note for CHARLES. ARTHUR is interested. CHARLES reads and lets nothing on.
CHARLES
You’ll excuse me, Art.
FLORENCE’S HALLWAY. INT. NIGHT.
A COACHMAN waits. CHARLES puts on his cloak and hat, and draws a cane from the umbrella stand. PENELOPE comes to detain him.
PENELOPE (annoyed)
Charles, you’re not leaving so soon.
CHARLES
Sometimes my time is not my own. I’m sure Art, or Kate, will see you home.
CHARLES kisses her and tastes salt. He wipes the trace of blood off her cheek, smiles, and leaves with the COACHMAN.
PENELOPE (determined)
Charles Beauregard, things will be different once we are married.
ALLEY, WHITECHAPEL. EXT. NIGHT.
LULU lies dissected in a pool of fog that obscures her most hideous wounds. LESTRADE, a vampire, directs two CONSTABLES in examining the body. LESTRADE has rat-whiskers, a bowler hat and a sour expression. A peering mob is held back by policemen. CHARLES makes his way through.
CHARLES
Inspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard.
LESTRADE
Mr Beauregard. It’s a bad business. (To the CONSTABLES) Let him look.
The CONSTABLES stand aside.
CHARLES (not flinching)
Like the others? Heart cut out?
LESTRADE
Neatly done with a silver scalpel. None of your wooden stake nonsense.