Murder by Numbers

A J&H Entertainment Release

Should we say it one last time?

One cannot live fully without embracing suicide and crime.

Say it.

A pact made with relentless fire that requires that some live...

...others die.

On three.

One...

...two...

...three!

Each of us has within us a weak aspect...

...eager to give up freedom to be dominated.

But we also have a will that desires freedom, that insists...

...on deciding for ourselves, each of us individually...

...what is good...

...and what is evil.

Are there any questions?

Doesn't anyone want to challenge Justin's thesis?

Do you all submit to this Darwinian struggle of egos?

I got a question.

Mr. Haywood, you're awake!

Let's hear it.

What's a dork like you know about power?

What would an ass like you know about philosophy?

Keep it civil.

Are you talking about crime?

You should wake up more often.

- What about it? - All freedom risks crime.

Freedom is crime. It thinks of itself and not of the group.

- Thank you, Justin. Very daring. - Thank you.

For those of you interested in the source of his report...

...take a look at Nietzsche.

You really need to get laid, Bonaparte.

Hey, Justin.

- Remember me? - What do you want?

I want to blow your brains out.

And I'll make it look like a suicide.

Everyone would believe that you killed yourself.

You won't get away with it.

Your shoe prints are unique. They'd be traced back to you.

The fibers on your shirt are all over me.

Your hair too.

It's called transference.

More importantly, your fingerprints...

...on my neck...

...where you touched me.

- You can't get them off skin. - You can with a Magna-Brush...

...or a fingerprint cam or an iodine gun and silver transfer sheets.

You don't have the discipline to commit a murder.

Is that right?

Let's see.

Bang!

You're dead.

What took you so long? I've been waiting.

No, I have something better.

- What is it? - Absinthe. Wormwood-infused alcohol.

The molecular structure is almost identical to tetrahedral chlorine.

Tetra what?

The active ingredient in marijuana.

Where did you get it?

Poets drank it for inspiration.

It's been illegal since the turn of the century.

Even better.

To the systematic derangement of our senses.

Forget the senses.

Let's derange the world.

We will.

When?

Soon.

What about tonight?

- What about right now? - I have a biology...

Fuck your biology!

You always have excuses.

Let's forget it.

We've been planning this for months.

I'm sick of planning. That's all it is with you.

It's talk and plans and dreams. You're a jerk-off.

So jerk off.

Richard, wait.

Just be patient.

Here comes The Hyena.

Why can't I go inside the perimeter?

I told them not to let anybody in.

It's your first homicide. I didn't want you stepping on your tongue.

Take this.

- What is it? - Important tool. Hey, boys!

Snack time! Set up a staging area.

This place will be crawling with people...

...including our chief.

- Rod? - Yeah, Rod is not a cop.

Darnell, get out of my crime scene! Come on!

Sorry, Cassie.

There's only one way into a crime scene.

Put your foot where mine goes and nowhere else.

Ready?

Ever do this in vice?

No.

Right there.

Looks like some kind of boot.

What's that smell like?

Smells like vomit.

That's what I thought. Bag some for the lab.

- What's the matter? - Nothing.

- Notice the hemorrhaging? - She was strangled.

Finger-shaped marks around the neck.

Look at this.

Clean cut.

- Trophy? - That'd be my guess.

Defensive wounds.

She put up a fight.

Good for you.

This is a secondary crime scene. Why?

This wound would produce lots of blood. There's very little here.

What about these?

- Piquerism. - Pre or postmortem?

Post, no blood.

Not bad, vice.

Probably aced your detective's exam.

The wind is picking up, we'll lose evidence.

Hold on to everything we find.

- Any idea who she is? - No. No car, no I.D.

Jane Doe.

Hey, Bonaparte.

What's the matter?

Miss Mills?

Time's up. Put your pens down.

Exchange your test with a neighbor.

Number 20 is C...

..."Burnt Norton. "

I suppose you find it funny.

What?

Me flunking a pop quiz.

You didn't flunk. You got 19 out of 20.

Please pass the tests forward.

Wait up, I want to talk to you.

- Why did you do that? - I have motives.

Like what?

I need your help for my physics midterm.

Why me?

Because you're a genius, okay?

I live at 1108 Chandler.

Can you remember that? Around 5?

Hi, Lisa.

- This friend... - Turn right.

- It's right here. - A houseboat. Neat.

Neat indeed.

I like it out here. Not too many people.

Thanks. See you tomorrow.

- You gonna see me to the door? - Of course.

You made detective in four years?

- Must be smarter than you look. - Thank you.

It'll only get worse, I warn you.

- You been talking to the boys? - I heard a few things.

They tell you why I was called The Hyena?

- Why? - Female hyenas have a mock penis.

- Draw your own conclusions. - Does that bother you?

I just wear loose slacks. It's really not a problem.

See you later.

No prints. The killer must have worn gloves.

- So it's not a husband or boyfriend. - Why?

You don't use gloves to kill your wife.

Unless you've thought about it.

Missing ring finger. Ritual? Serial killer?

- Maybe a comment on matrimony. - A negative one.

Maybe we should investigate every bad marriage in the county.

- Why don't you get on that? - Let's start with you.

- Ever been married? - Nope.

What's this?

An old murder case I was involved in.

The guy's up for parole, they want me to testify.

What do we have on Jane Doe?

I'm checking missing persons nationwide.

Run her prints, have an artist do a sketch.

I got it.

Bonaparte! I didn't think you'd show. Come in.

Who did these? They're quite good.

Thank you.

- You did them? - Don't look so surprised.

I modeled for them too.

Bonaparte, you're blushing.

Why do you call me that?

Ever take a career aptitude test?

No.

If you ever did, they'd recommend you a career as a dictator.

Why?

Who would listen to me?

Where's your physics book?

You're overfeeding that thing. It'll get as fat as you are.

I hope this is better than that other stuff.

It's KGB.

For $400, it better put me on the moon.

You'll be totally satisfied, I guarantee it.

Money back?

Come on, can't we cut a deal?

- You don't want it? - I want it.

Richie Rich.

- I hate it when you call me that. - It's a deal.

Bring me a couple pigtailed cheerleaders...

...then I give it to you free.

- How can I trust that? - I love this part.