Anno Dracula

Extracts from Anno Dracula: The Movie

Shortly after Anno Dracula was published, I did a draft of a film script for producers Stuart Pollak and Andre Jacquemetton (who appear in Johnny Alucard). In this, I made a few tweaks to the plot and reordered the importance of some of the supporting characters. These extracts concentrate on scenes which are either original to the script or changed from the novel.

EXT. NIGHT.

A severed head, somewhat resembling Peter Cushing, is impaled on a spear. Exposed to the elements for a while, it is dilapidated. Pale moonlight emphasises hollow eyesockets. A wind blows.

A caption in Hammer Films Gothic crawls across the screen.

STENTORIAN NARRATOR

In 1885, Count Dracula travelled from his castle in Transylvania to London, intent on founding a new order of beings whose road leads through Death not Life. The story has it that Professor Van Helsing gathered together stalwart Englishmen and women to defeat the vampire, expelling him from these shores, ultimately destroying him. But what would London, what would the world, have been like if Van Helsing had failed? This is the city that might have been if the Count had prevailed. Dracula has taken by force Queen Victoria as his bride, and declared himself Prince Consort and Lord Protector of Great Britain and her Empire...

Music: the stirring preamble to ‘Rule Britannia’. A solo voice, strong but feminine, begins ‘When Britain first at Heaven’s command, arose from out the azure main, this was the charter, the charter of the land, and guardian angels sang this strain...’

We pull back to see that the spear is one of a row standing outside Buckingham Palace. The building is illuminated by barbarian torches. Other poles support impaled corpses. At the doors stand wolf-faced guards in full uniform.

‘Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, and Britons never never never shall be slaves...’

EXT. BUCKINGHAM PALACE. NIGHT.

A heraldic shield: the lion and unicorn of Britain transformed into gape-mouthed monsters, overlaid with the bat standard of Dracula. This device is on the door of a carriage, drawn by black horses down the driveway. A GUARDSMAN salutes the carriage, He has a bestial snout, red eyes, vampire fangs. The main gates open, and the carriage trundles into Birdcage Walk.

EXT. LONDON. NIGHT.

The carriage proceeds through the streets. We glimpse scenes of a transformed Victorian London. Lamp-lighters touch sparks to gas-jets producing puffs of flame, well-dressed toffs bothered by street urchins, policemen march in pairs, an organ grinder plays for a horned imp. An effete DANDY, in extravagant black clothes, tries to fend off a plump WHORE: his face is skull-white but for penny-sized rouge spots on his cheeks; he too has fangs.

About a quarter of the people we see on the streets are vampires.

Some newly-raised from the dead, Victorians with large teeth; others are medieval monsters imported by Dracula. Some part-animal, others visibly decrepit or mutated, some lithe and alive in un-death. All eyes turn as the carriage passes. Some shrink in fear, some doff hats, others peer with curiosity. A WOMAN crosses herself; a POLICEMAN batters her with a truncheon.

At a crossroads, a party of Carpathian soldiers, directed by RUPERT OF HENTZAU*, a dashing vampire, erect a sharpened wooden stake. A CONDEMNED MAN, dressed in a nightshirt, struggles as the soldiers hoist him up and impale him on the stake. Blood gushes on the pavement. A vampire CHILD darts out of the crowd, laps it up like a dog, and is shooed away.

HENTZAU (reading aloud from a proclamation)

So perish all who defy the rule of Prince Dracula, Lord Protector of These Isles.

We rise above the coach as if on batwings, and look over the city. This is the West End, the well-lit civilised area, hectic with theatre crowds and night life. Human-sized wing-shapes flit between the taller buildings. The river, glinting red in the light as if its waters were blood, snakes through the city. This is the beating heart of an empire. We travel into the dark, away from the light.

EXT. WHITECHAPEL. NIGHT.

We descend into Commercial Road. Moonlight shines through thin wisps of fog on to wet cobbles. We pass a pub, the Ten Bells, from which raucous laughter and pianola music emerges. We pass Toynbee Hall, an educational institute. We pass street people –urchins, policemen, whores, loafers, slummers. We slip up to an alley, where a woman’s voice sounds, a wordless ululation related to ‘Mack the Knife’. Fog swirls thicker. It is a rich yellow, with drifts of red.

We have been following a glimpsed, shadowy figure. JACK, a man in a top hat with a black ulster, carries a medical bag. We do not see his face§. His bag chinks, as implements shift inside. He wears black gloves. JACK pauses at the entrance to the alley, struck by the strange song.

His silhouette frames against a poster. REWARD OFFERED FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO THE ARREST OF ‘SILVER KNIFE’, THE WHITECHAPEL MURDERER. Small print details the murders of Annie Chapman and Polly Nicholls. The description is of JACK.

EXT. CHICKSAND STREET, WHITECHAPEL. NIGHT.

JACK steps into the alley. A shaft of moonlight spotlights LULU, a whore with Chinese bangs. She waves her shawl like the fronds of a sea anemone. Smiling with red lips, she continues her siren song. A tight kimono stretches over her boyish body. JACK steps towards her.

JACK clutches his bag.

LULU (slight German accent)

Mister, misssster... Such a handsome gentleman. Come and kiss me, sir. Just a little kiss.

LULU beckons, lacquered nails glittering. JACK touches her face. Even through gloves, her skin is ice. She has delicate pearl-chip fangs, and a red cast to her eyes.

JACK

What brought you to this... condition?

LULU

Good fortune and kind gentlemen.

JACK

Kind?

LULU produces a sprig of mistletoe and holds it up.

LULU

A kiss, kind sir. It’s just a penny for a kiss.

JACK

It’s early for Christmas. September.

LULU

Always time for a kiss.

LULU shakes her sprig and kisses JACK on the lips. His bag is open. He puts a silvered scalpel into her ribs, pressing lightly. LULU changes, face distorting catlike as she hisses venom in JACK’s face. Her fangs extend; she is ready to rip out his throat. The scalpel slides into her chest and blood gushes.

We pull back, as JACK incises deeper. LULU’s animal howls disturb the fog. Then, stillness and quiet. We focus on the poster.

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.

CHARLES

Who was she?

LESTRADE

Lulu Schön. A new-born vampire. German, we think. Common prostitute, like the others.

CHARLES

This is... what, the fourth?

LESTRADE

No one is sure. The sensation press have exhumed every unsolved East End killing of the past thirty years.

CHARLES

How many are you certain of?

LESTRADE

We’ll not even be certain of Schön until the inquest, though I’ll lay my pension on her. I make her the third, after Annie Chapman and Polly Nichols.

CHARLES

They were all, ah...

LESTRADE

Vampires, sir? Yes. Silver Knife is a vampire killer. Van Helsing would have been proud of him.

CHARLES (looking close at the remains)

This man hates. With a passion. The murders must be committed in a frenzy, yet there’s a coolness to the work. He kills out on the street in the open. He doesn’t just butcher, he dissects. And vampires are not easy to kill.

LESTRADE (holds up LULU’s clawed hand)

He surprises them, sir. Or they’d tear him apart.

CHARLES

Our Silver Knife is not just a simple lunatic, Inspector. He has a reason.

The CONSTABLES lift LULU, shifting the corpse into a horse-drawn wagon. The crowd hisses. CHARLES looks at the cobbles and is reflected in moonlit blood.

LESTRADE

He must be stopped before there’s general panic. The situation is unbalanced enough as it is. These killings upset people, warm and un-dead.

CHARLES

Indubitably. It sounds like an affair for your old associate, Mr Holmes.

LESTRADE

He is not at liberty to investigate, sir. He has differences with the current government.

CHARLES

That ass Lord Ruthven, the Prime Minister, has packed him off to those pens on the Sussex Downs. What does the Pall Mall Gazette call them? Concentration camps?

LESTRADE (uncomfortable)

Indeed. He’s in Devil’s Dyke.

CHARLES

Well, you’ll have to catch Silver Knife yourself. I’ll make my report and see if the Diogenes Club can make any contribution.

LESTRADE (gloomy)

All help welcome, sir.

CHARLES

No doubt. I’m going to root around a bit on my own, see if anything turns up.

LESTRADE (doubtful)

If you think that’s wise.

CHARLES (waving cane)

I can look after myself, Inspector. Her Majesty’s Service has taken me to tight spots before. I’ve faced the stranglers of Bombay and the man-killers of Kilimanjaro.

LESTRADE (after CHARLES has gone)

But you don’t know the women of Whitechapel, clever sir.

§ The producers wanted to keep the Ripper’s identity secret for the bulk of the film, making it a murder mystery. While writing the novel, I briefly considered the possibility of having Seward’s phonograph diary be fake – planted by the real Ripper (yes, it would have been Arthur) to frame his old friend. I didn’t take that route because it struck me as being a bit too much like one of those 1960s William Castle or Jimmy Sangster movies which offer a surprise ending at the expense of involvement with the characters.

* * *

DARK PLACE. INT. DAY.

A room blacked-out against the sun. Aladdin-style lamps burn, disclosing chinoiserie. VARDALEK, burning with humiliation, stands in the light. A CHINESE GIRL is with him. Two other figures, shadowed, are in the room: the GIRL’S FATHER, a criminal mastermind, and MR YEE, an ancient Chinese vampire in mandarin robes.

VARDALEK

It is my understanding that a murder may be purchased here.

CHINESE GIRL

Many things are for sale in my father’s domain. He is the Lord of Strange Deaths. But you are of the Carpathian Guard, why should you entreat a favour of those as unworthy as we? Do you not have friends, more powerful even than my father?

VARDALEK

I do not wish to involve the Prince Consort in this squabble. It would be undignified.

CHINESE GIRL

You do not wish Prince Dracula to know you were bested in full view of many warm Britishers by the French girl?

VARDALEK

You impertinent celestial devil...

GIRL’S FATHER claps, silencing VARDALEK.

CHINESE GIRL

My father understands your position. Please place the coins in my detestable palm.

From a purse, VARDALEK draws gold coins, which he doles out. He stops. CHINESE GIRL’s hand is still out. He grudgingly pays more. Finally, she turns away and kneels before GIRL’S FATHER.

CHINESE GIRL

Father, the death is sought of the vampire elder Geneviève Dieudonné. Shall it be arranged?

GIRL’S FATHER claps. MR YEE steps into the light. His face is ancient, mummified with wrinkles, but his green eyes glow and his fangs are fearsome. He has a snake tongue. Even VARDALEK is disturbed. Green smoke puffs and the room is filled with light. VARDALEK finds himself alone.*

* * *

COMMERCIAL ROAD, WHITECHAPEL. EXT. NEAR DAWN. The fog is thinning. OLIVER* walks quickly across the road, and hurries along. He passes an alley-opening and is chilled. Not wanting to, he finds himself turning round and stepping into the alley.

ALLEY, WHITECHAPEL. EXT. NEAR DAWN.

OLIVER sees a shadowy figure at the end of the alley. Red eyes glow. The fog is pooled at knee-height. OLIVER, mesmerised, is drawn on step by step. VARDALEK, more hideous than when last we saw him, bends forward, fangs extended, licking his lips.

VARDALEK

Pretty lad, come hither...

OLIVER stands by VARDALEK, who picks him up. OLIVER doesn’t struggle. VARDALEK kisses the boy’s cheek and opens his mouth to bite...

In a blur, someone fast interrupts, knocking VARDALEK down. OLIVER sprawls and backs out of the alley. VARDALEK looks up and sees HENTZAU and KOSTAKI, faces grim.

VARDALEK

Comrades...

COMMERCIAL ROAD, WHITECHAEL. EXT. NEAR DAWN. OLIVER is in a panic. People gather. JAGO and his Crusaders are around. DIARMID and KATE appear on the street. A lone police CONSTABLE toots his whistle, but no more official help comes.

OLIVER

He attacked me.

VARDALEK crawls out of the alley. HENTZAU and KOSTAKI follow.

JAGO

Jack the Ripper! He’s Jack the Ripper! The Carpathian is Jack the Ripper!

VARDALEK, afraid, scurries back and cringes by KOSTAKI’s boots. The mob gets angry and closes around, repeating the accusation, spitting, cursing. OLIVER runs to KATE, who hugs him. KOSTAKI faces JAGO.

HENTZAU (reading aloud from a proclamation)

By the order of Prince Dracula, Lord Protector of These Isles, Count Vardalek is condemned for degeneracy.

VARDALEK (lost)

Degeneracy? The Prince?

HENTZAU

I am sorry, Excellency. But you’re a disgrace.

VARDALEK

Dracula would never...

HENTZAU

You don’t really know him, Count.

VARDALEK scrambles upright. He has lost his wig and looks like a pathetic nosferatu. His rouge runs. He tries to escape from HENTZAU but the mob are a wall. DIARMID takes notes.

HENTZAU (reading)

As an example to those who would misuse their position, Count Vardalek shall be hung in chains and exposed to the purifying light of the Sun.

VARDALEK (screeching)

Noooooo!

KOSTAKI takes hold of VARDALEK. A couple of CARPATHIAN soldiers carry an iron lattice-work cage in the shape of a man. KOSTAKI presses the struggling, screaming VARDALEK into the cage, which is locked shut. It is like a see-through sarcophagus. A heavy chain is slung through a hook on a gibbet-like arm that swings out over the street, and the cage is hoisted up above the crowd. VARDALEK rattles. JAGO, unsure how to react, is stunned.

VARDALEK

Comrades, my friends... there is a mistake, Prince Dracula could not...

The dawn breaks. KOSTAKI, HENTZAU and the CARPATHIANS step back into the shadows. Sunlight falls on VARDALEK, and his face begins to smoulder and bubble. He screeches and hangs limply in the cage. He shrivels and blackens, screams fading to whimpers. Chunks of sloughed skin fall to the cobbles and sputter in the sunlight like cooking bacon. From the mouth of the alley, KOSTAKI and HENTZAU look up at VARDALEK. The crowd has backed away. HENTZAU rolls up the proclamation.

HENTZAU (sub-titled Romanian)

A job well done, lads.

KOSTAKI (sub-titles)

It is a mistake to let them know we can suffer and die. The Prince has made a mistake.

HENTZAU (sub-titles)

Vardalek was a fucking monster, Kostaki. Out of control. Ravening. There’s only room for one such.

They look up at VARDALEK. We follow their gaze, passing the faces of OLIVER, KATE, DIARMID, JAGO, CATHY, MARY, the CHINESE GIRL§. LESTRADE hurries up and is shown HENTZAU’s warrant. VARDALEK, still feebly struggling, is not truly dead. He is in despair. We climb up, to look down on VARDALEK. Everyone looks up at the rising sun. A shadow falls on them all, huge and batwinged. JAGO crosses himself. HENTZAU salutes.#

* * *

ABOVE LONDON. EXT. DAWN.

We fly over the city on huge batwings.

GYMNASIUM. INT. DAY.

The Victorian equivalent of a squash club. Young men in pairs fence, heavily masked and padded. Servants bear refreshments on trays. ARTHUR, in white fencing clothes, waits, hefting a foil, piercing imaginary opponents. CHARLES arrives, similarly dressed, late.

CHARLES

My apologies, Art. I didn’t make it to bed until nearly dawn.

ARTHUR

Vampire hours, old man. Penny tells me you’re quite the rake, mysteriously absent at all hours.

CHARLES

Duty, I’m afraid.

ARTHUR

Duty. Can’t be doing with it.

They face each other on a mat. A few of the others break off to watch this bout. CHARLES swishes his foil and reaches for a face-mask.

ARTHUR

Mind if we have a bash without the masks, Charles? They get infernally in the way.

CHARLES (not sure)

If you insist.

ARTHUR

I do. Now, defend your lady’s honour...

Before CHARLES is quite ready, ARTHUR slashes at him. CHARLES parries, awkwardly but effectively.

ARTHUR

Very neat, Charles.

ARTHUR tries another attack. CHARLES strains to fend him off. The match continues. ARTHUR is all effortless moves and confidence, making comments. CHARLES is stretched, silent, concentrating: outclassed by the vampire, but determined to give a good account of himself.

ARTHUR

I hear tell you’re involving yourself in this Ripper business. (CHARLES grunts.) Nasty affair. No credit in it. Do you have any ideas?

CHARLES (warding off an especially underhand thrust)

Not as yet.

ARTHUR

Pity. The PM would be grateful for a speedy conclusion.

CHARLES

So would some other scoundrels I met with last night.

ARTHUR

You are seen too much with scoundrels. Penny is beginning to tire of it. (He deliberately scrapes CHARLES’s face.) Sorry, old man. Very careless of me.

With cold determination, CHARLES does not lose his temper. He out-fences ARTHUR and touches him with sword-point several times on the torso.

ARTHUR

I say, you’re ahead, aren’t you.

ARTHUR moves inhumanly fast, pinning CHARLES to the wall, foil-edge at his throat. His fangs are extruded. CHARLES’s sword arm is held, gripped at the wrist.

ARTHUR

That about settles it, though.

ARTHUR licks the trickle of blood from CHARLES’s cheek, and lets him go. Servants arrive with drinks. ARTHUR has a goblet of blood, CHARLES orange juice.

ARTHUR

You’re still a better fencer than I, Charles. But you can’t hope to match a vampire for speed. You seem to move like a snail. I can see what you’re going to do before you’ve decided to do it.

CHARLES

Penny wants us to turn.

ARTHUR

Clever girl. You should look after her. Well, cheerio, old man. The sun will be down soon, and I’ve a thirst in me that this pig-stuff won’t slake.

CHARLES watches ARTHUR breeze out. He is breathing heavily, sweating. He touches his cut cheek.*

* * *

ALLEY, WHITECHAPEL. EXT. DUSK.

We are near DRAVOT’s bolt-hole. ARTHUR and HENTZAU, dressed down a bit, loiter. The fog is thickening again.

ARTHUR

We’re a lot alike, Rupert. We depend on the patronage of our elders. You serve Dracula and I’m Ruthven’s man. In the old days, ambitious men in our position could console themselves with the thought that their superiors wouldn’t live forever, but...

HENTZAU

That’s a dangerous line of thought, Arthur.

ARTHUR

Ruthven’s sharp, but a dilettante. He gets bored with power. That thing with Tennyson. It was petty, childish. And Dracula...

HENTZAU

Is mad. How could he not be mad? The course he has charted. They say he disguises himself and passes among his subjects, bat-ears a-tremble for treachery.

ARTHUR

The years must weigh heavily.

HENTZAU

Elders aren’t all like that. This Dieudonné snip, who caused so much grief for the late Count Vardalek.

ARTHUR

The girl with Charles Beauregard?

HENTZAU

She bears watching.

DRAVOT’s door opens. DRAVOT emerges.

ARTHUR

And so, evidently, does this gentleman. The Diogenes Club is in this to the elbows. (DRAVOT looks around, senses them, and retreats inside.) Damn, I should have remembered. Mycroft teaches his men well.

HENTZAU

He has to come out again.

ARTHUR

There’ll be a dozen back ways out. We’ve shown our hand. We might as well follow through...

ARTHUR and HENTZAU climb to DRAVOT’s door. ARTHUR pushes it open.

DRAVOT’S FLAT, WHITECHAPEL. INT. DUSK.

ARTHUR

It’s not even locked.

HENTZAU finds the same paper on the desk.

HENTZAU

Ho, what’s this?

ARTHUR (looking at the scrawl)

We have him, Rupert. And them, the Diogenes Club. It’s a plot. Mycroft’s calculating brain invented the whole thing. There’s no mad vampire killer, rallying the warm to revolt. Just clever men, warm and un-dead, undermining the rule of Dracula. We must catch Dravot and expose this conspiracy. There’ll be credit in it for us all.*

* * *

MILLER’S COURT, WHITECHAPEL. EXT. NIGHT.

CHARLES and GENEVIEVE step into the courtyard. GENEVIEVE senses but does not see DRAVOT, who stands red-eyed in a corner. A window glows with candle-light, and we hear wet sounds. CHARLES and GENEVIEVE fix their attention on the door of MARY’s room. CHARLES pushes it open.

MARY’S ROOM, WHITECHAPEL. INT. NIGHT.

CHARLES and GENEVIEVE are shocked silent. SEWARD kneels on the bed, in the middle of a ruin barely recognisable as MARY. He is still working, apron and shirtsleeves dyed red. His silver scalpel flickers in firelight. Blood and other substances are spread across the bed and the floor, around the walls up to the height of three feet.

SEWARD

Nearly done. I have to be sure Lucy is dead.

SEWARD stands up and futilely wipes his hands on his apron. CHARLES points a revolver.

CHARLES

Dr Seward, put down the knife and step away from her.

SEWARD keeps the scalpel but steps away. CHARLES, eyes on SEWARD, steps near MARY and looks down, holding his horror rigidly in check.

SEWARD

Van Helsing says her soul will not rest until she is truly dead.

GENEVIEVE

Oh, Jack, Jack...

CHARLES cocks his revolver and aims at SEWARD’s heart.

CHARLES

It’ll be a mercy.

As his finger tightens on the trigger, MARY surges up from the bed – her insides open and red – and takes hold of CHARLES from behind, fangs near his throat.

MARY

No, you mustn’t hurt my Jack, my doctor...

GENEVIEVE dashes to help CHARLES, and SEWARD comes for her with the scalpel.

SEWARD

You’re Lucy. You’re Lucy too. I have to keep... helping Lucy...

SEWARD’s scalpel nears GENEVIEVE’s throat. CHARLES fights off the sorely wounded MARY, and hauls SEWARD off GENEVIEVE. SEWARD raises the scalpel to stab, and CHARLES shoots him in the heart.

SEWARD falls on to the bed, into MARY’s bloody embrace. MARY smiles sadly, madly, at him, and expires.

SEWARD

There. She is delivered. God is merciful. See, she is at peace. Sleep well, Lucy my love. It’s over. We’ve beaten him. We’ve defeated the Count. The contagion cannot spread.

SEWARD dies. GENEVIEVE and CHARLES, shaken, stand over the bed.

GENEVIEVE

You’ve killed him. Poor Jack.

CHARLES

Poor Jack. Poor Mary. Poor Lucy. Poor Everybody.

DRAVOT steps in, a bundle on his shoulder.

DRAVOT

Well done, sir. You’ve put an end to Jack the Ripper.

CHARLES

Dravot.

DRAVOT

All along, sir, there were two murderers, working together. It should have been obvious.

DRAVOT opens his bundle. A dead white face stared up, lips drawn back in a last snarl. ARTHUR.

CHARLES

It’s Godalming.

DRAVOT

Lord Godalming, sir. He was in it with Dr Seward. They fell out last night.

CHARLES

How long have you known this, Dravot? How long has the Diogenes Club known but not seen fit to tell me?

DRAVOT

You caught the Rippers, sir. I’ve just been looking out for you. Your guardian angel.

CHARLES

And Jago? Was that you?

DRAVOT

Another matter, sir.

CHARLES

There’ll be a fearful scandal. Godalming was well-thought-of. He had a reputation as a coming man.

DRAVOT

His name will be entirely blackened.

CHARLES

And he was a vampire. That will cause a stir. The assumption was that the Ripper was warm. There will be repercussions. Careers will be smashed, reputations overturned. The Prime Minister will look foolish.

GENEVIEVE (to DRAVOT)

And what of me? Am I a ‘loose end’? Like Jack, like Godalming? Like that poor girl? You let him butcher her, didn’t you? You or Jack killed Godalming. Then, knowing what he was, you stood back in the shadows and let him account for her. It was tidier that way. You didn’t even dirty your hands. Can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs, eh? What about us eggs?

MILLER’S COURT, WHITECHAPEL. EXT. NIGHT.

CHARLES and GENEVIEVE emerge, following DRAVOT. Police whistles sound. DRAVOT slips into the fog, leaving CHARLES and GENEVIEVE.

GENEVIEVE

What happened here, what truly happened?

CHARLES

I don’t yet know.

GENEVIEVE

You’ll be the hero.

CHARLES

Why?

GENEVIEVE

You’ve no choice.

LESTRADE and a couple of CONSTABLES, augmented by HENTZAU and some CARPATHIANS arrive.

CHARLES

There’s a dead woman in that court. And a pair of murderers, also dead. Jack the Ripper is finished.

LESTRADE and HENTZAU look into MARY’s room. LESTRADE is appalled by the scene.

LESTRADE

That’s Hell in there.

CHARLES

It’s Hell out here.

KATE and DIARMID arrive, followed by OLIVER. More rubber-neckers crowd in.

GENEVIEVE

It was Jack Seward.

KATE

Dr Seward?

GENEVIEVE

He was mad, and not responsible.

KATE

Then who was responsible?

GENEVIEVE

The thing who drove him mad.

They look up through thinning fog at the moon. A bat-shape soars across its face.*

* * *

CARRIAGE. INT. NIGHT.

GENEVIEVE

Look, there’s Van Helsing’s head. It’s a mistake to leave it there. It’s not an example to would-be revolutionaries, it’s a rallying point. Insurrections need martyrs.

OUTSIDE THE PALACE. EXT. NIGHT.

The main gates have barbed wire wrapped around the uprights. CARPATHIANS haul the huge ironwork frames aside as if they were silk curtains and the carriage slides through. The Palace is illuminated. Black smoke pours into the sky.

CARRIAGE. INT. NIGHT.

The carriage stops outside the palace doors.

CHARLES (gets up)

You can stay in the carriage. Safe. I’ll be all right. This will not take long. (She shakes her head.) Gené, I beg you.

GENEVIEVE

Charles, why are you so worried? We’re heroes, we have nothing to fear from the Prince. I am his elder.

The door is opened by a FOOTMAN.

OUTSIDE THE PALACE. EXT. NIGHT.

GENEVIEVE steps down first. CHARLES follows. She takes his arm and nuzzles against him, but he will not be comforted.

Beyond the Palace fences stand crowds. Sullen sightseers peer through bars. GENEVIEVE looks and sees the CHINESE GIRL and a bundled-up MR YEE among the many faces.

The FOOTMAN, a vampire youth with a gold-painted face, leads them up the broad stairs and strikes the doors with his stick. They open, disclosing the marbled length of a vaulted reception hall.

RECEPTION HALL, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT. It’s like the Wizard of Oz’s antechamber. Thirty-foot diaphanous silk curtains part in the draught as CHARLES and GENEVIEVE step into the hall. SERVANTS appear and relieve the visitors of their cloaks. GENEVIEVE expects her dress to be admired but CHARLES glumly has to hand over his cane to a CARPATHIAN.

CHARLES (suddenly grasping her)

Whatever happens, this you must know. Gené, I love you.

GENEVIEVE

And I you, Charles. I you.

CHARLES

I you what?

GENEVIEVE

Love, Charles. I love you.

He kisses her, and they are drawn along the hallway, towards more tall doors, which open for them.

ANTECHAMBER, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT.

CARMILLA, a vampire lady-in-waiting, waits for CHARLES and GENEVIEVE. This hallway is like the last but far more battered. An armadillo wriggles past GENEVIEVE’s feet. The carpets are dirty. CARMILLA guides them to inner doors, which open in noisy lurches. The doorman is JOHN MERRICK, grotesque malformations emphasised by a tailored parti-coloured suit.

CHARLES

Good evening. Merrick, is it not?

GENEVIEVE

Why, it’s...

MERRICK

Don’t be afraid, pretty miss. I know what I’m called. The elephant man.

CHARLES

Mademoiselle Geneviève Dieudonné, may I present Mr John Merrick.

MERRICK (kisses her hand)

A pleasure, miss.

CHARLES

Mr Merrick is a loyal servant of the crown.

GENEVIEVE (quiet)

The Diogenes Club?

MERRICK (manages a twisted smile)

If you will follow me...

They proceed into another hallway.

HALLWAY, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT.

CHARLES and GENEVIEVE follow MERRICK to the most elaborate doors yet seen, decorated with gilt bat-motifs.

CHARLES

It amuses the Prince Consort to keep this poor creature on hand.

GENEVIEVE

He’s a monster. Not...

CHARLES

I know who you mean. (MERRICK opens the door.) Gené, if what I do brings harm to you, I am sincerely sorry.

He kisses her again...

BEDROOM, INT. NIGHT. FLASHBACK.

GENEVIEVE, lips bloody, cuddles up to CHARLES, who is awake, brooding.

GENEVIEVE

This can be forever, Charles. Truly forever.

CHARLES

Nothing is forever, my darling...

HALLWAY, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT.

... the kiss breaks. Light falls on CHARLES and GENEVIEVE as the doors are fully opened. They are admitted.

THRONE ROOM, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT.

Ill-lit by broken chandeliers, the throne-room is an infernal sty of people and animals. Dirtied and abused paintings hang at strange angles. Whimpering, grunting, screaming creatures congregate on divans and carpets. An almost naked CARPATHIAN wrestles a giant ape, their feet scrabbling and slipping on a filthy marble floor. HENTZAU stands by smartly. RUTHVEN is also present, scented handkerchief at his nose as he views the proceedings with distaste. The CARPATHIAN jams the ape’s face against the floor and snaps the animal’s spine.

Gales of cruel laughter are cut off by a wave of a ham-sized hand. Upon the raised hand, an enormous gemstone ring – the Koh-i-Noor, centrepiece of the Crown Jewels – holds the burning reflections of seven fires. GENEVIEVE looks into the jewel, and sees through it the distorted shape of a gross figure.

We pull back to see DRACULA. He sits upon his throne, massive as a commemorative statue, enormously bloated face a rich red under withered grey. Moustaches stiff with recent blood hang to his chest, his thick hair is loose about his shoulders, and his black-stubbled chin is dotted with the gravy of his last feeding. His left hand loosely holds the orb of office, which seems in his grip the size of a tennis ball.

CHARLES (overwhelmed)

I never dreamed...

An ermine-collared black velvet cloak clings to DRACULA’s shoulders like the wings of a giant bat. His body is swollen with blood, rope-thick veins visibly pulsing in his neck and arms. He smiles, showing yellow teeth the size of pointed thumbs.

QUEEN VICTORIA kneels by the throne, a spiked collar around her neck, a chain leading from it to a loose bracelet upon Dracula’s wrist. As a vampire, she has reverted to girlhood, but still has an old woman’s dignity even in these circumstances.

CHARLES (bowing his head)

Majesties.

An enormous fart of laughter explodes from DRACULA’s jaggedly-fanged maw.

DRACULA

I am Dracula. And who might these welcome guests be?

RUTHVEN

These are the heroes of Whitechapel, Majesty. To them we owe the ruination of the desperate murderers known as Jack the Ripper. Dr John Seward of infamous memory, and, ah, Arthur Holmwood, the terrible traitor...

CHARLES looks at DRACULA’s face. It seems painted on water; sometimes frozen into hard-planed ice, but for the most part in motion. CHARLES sees other faces beneath. The red eyes and wolf teeth are fixed, but around them, under the rough cheeks, is a constantly shifting shape; sometimes a hairy, wet snout, sometimes a thin, polished skull.

DRACULA (grins ferociously)

You have served us well and faithfully, my subjects. Have they not, Vicky?

DRACULA stretches out a hand and caresses VICTORIA’s tangled hair. She shrinks. At the base of the throne-dais cluster a knot of shrouded nosferatu women, DRACULA’s BRIDES. They hiss and lust like cats. VICTORIA is plainly in terror of them. DRACULA’s enormous fingers encircle her fragile skull.

DRACULA

Geneviève Dieudonné, I have had word of you before. My lady, why have you not come before to my court? You wandered from one place to the next for hundreds of years, in fear of the jealous warm. Like all un-dead, you were outcast. Was this not injustice? Harried by inferiors, we were denied the succour of church and the protection of law. You and I, we have both lost those that we have loved, to peasants with sharpened spikes and silver sickles. I am named Tepes, the impaler, and yet it was not Dracula who pierced the heart of Lucy Westenra. My dark kiss brings life, eternal and sweet; it is the silver knives that bring cold death, empty and endless. The dark nights are ended and we are raised to our rightful estate. This have I done for the good of all who are nosferatu. None need hide his nature among the warm, none need suffer the brain fever of the red thirst. Daughter-in-darkness of Chandagnac, you share in this; and yet you have no love for Dracula. Is this not sad? Is this not the attitude of a shallow and ungrateful woman? Were you not alone, Geneviève Dieudonné? And are you not among friends now? Among equals?

GENEVIEVE

I have been un-dead a half-century longer than you. When I turned, you were a babe in arms. Impaler, I have no equal.

DRACULA glares enormously at GENEVIEVE.

CHARLES (steps forward, hand inside his coat)

I have a gift, a souvenir of our exploit in the East End.

CHARLES takes a cloth bundle from his inside pocket, and unwraps it. Silver light explodes. Vampires who have been noisily suckling in the shadows are suddenly quiet. The tiny blade gleams, illuminating the whole room. CARPATHIANS, led by HENTZAU, detach themselves from their amusements and form a half circle to one side. Several of the harem of BRIDES stand, red mouths wet and eager.

DRACULA (angrily amused)

You think to defy me with this little needle, Englishman?

CHARLES

It is a gift. But not for you. For my Queen.

He tosses the knife. Tumbling silver reflects in DRACULA’s eyes. VICTORIA snatches the scalpel from the air.

VICTORIA

The Lord forgive me.

VICTORIA slips the blade under her breast, puncturing her heart. For her, it is over swiftly. With a moan of joy, she falls from the dais, rolls down the steps, chain unravelling. RUTHVEN beats his way through and clutches VICTORIA’s body. He extracts the scalpel with a single pull. RUTHVEN presses his hand over her wound as if willing her back to life. It is no use. He stands, still gripping the silver knife. His fingers begin to smoke and he throws away the scalpel, yelping. Surrounded by Dracula’s BRIDES, their faces transforming with hunger and rage, RUTVHEN shakes inside his finery.

RUTHVEN

It is over, Prince. As a widower, you have no right to rule.

CHARLES stands still, certain of death. DRACULA is on his feet, cloak rippling around him like a thundercloud. Tusks explode from his mouth, his hands become spear-tipped clusters. He raises a hand, useless chain dangling from his wrist, and points at CHARLES. Beyond speech, he spits out rage and hate.

CHARLES walks backwards. The vampires, suddenly sober, gather. The women of the harem and the officers of the guard. The women pounce first and bear him on to the floor, ripping...

GENEVIEVE pulls a hell-cat from the fray and pitches her across the room. GENEVIEVE bares her teeth and hisses at the fallen woman. Anger gives her strength. She hauls CHARLES free, thumping and stabbing with her hands. GENEVIEVE spits and shrieks with the other she-creatures, pulling handfuls of hair and scratching at red eyes. CHARLES, bloodied, still lives.

The BRIDES scrabble away, giving GENEVIEVE room. CHARLES stands by her, still in a daze. HENTZAU comes forward, Dracula’s champion. He makes a fist and a point of bone slides from his knuckles. It grows long and straight and sharp, a living sword.

GENEVIEVE steps out of range of the bone-rapier. The courtiers form a circle like a prizefight crowd. Still shackled to his dead Queen, DRACULA watches. HENTZAU whirls about, sword moving fast. She hears the blade whisper and, moments later, realises her shoulder is opened, a red line trickling on her dress. She snatches up a footstool and raises it as a shield, parrying the next slice. HENTZAU cuts through cover and cushion, fixing his blade in wood. As he pulls free, horsehair bleeds.

HENTZAU

Fighting with the furniture, eh?

HENTZAU makes passes near her face and locks of her hair float free. MERRICK, a broken FOOTMAN in one hand, throws CHARLES his sword-cane. With a tap, HENTZAU whisks GENEVIEVE’s stool from her hands. He grins and draws back for a thrust at her heart. CHARLES slices down, knocking HENTZAU’s point out of true, and slashes back, edge of his blade slipping under HENTZAU’s jaw, sliding through coarse fur, opening skin and scraping bone.

HENTZAU howls and turns on CHARLES. He launches an assault, sword-point darting like a dragonfly. CHARLES parries a rapid compass of attacks, but is driven back and takes a wound in the chest. He falls down. HENTZAU raises his sword-arm; the blade begins a swishing descent. CHARLES, glimpsing GENEVIEVE, raises his own sword. HENTZAU’s arm slices against the silver blade. The sword-arm falls in a dead lump, cut clean through at the elbow. CHARLES runs HENTZAU through the heart and slides the dead vampire off his blade.*

DRACULA comes down from his throne, steam pouring from his nostrils. He is beginning a transformation, wings spreading.

GENEVIEVE hauls CHARLES towards the doors. RUTHVEN is in the way.

GENEVIEVE

Aside, Ruthven.

RUTHVEN hesitates then steps out of the way.

GENEVIEVE (quietly)

Very clever, my Lord.

MERRICK holds the doors open. DRACULA’s shadow grows, his wrath reaching out like a fog.

HALLWAY, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT.

GENEVIEVE helps CHARLES out of the throne-room. She licks blood from his face.

CHARLES

I couldn’t tell you.

GENEVIEVE shushes him. MERRICK shuts the doors and puts his enormous back to them.

MERRICK (howling)

Go.

Something smashes against the other side of the doors and a clawed hand punches through above MERRICK’s head, tearing at the wood. The hand makes a fist and enlarges its hole. GENEVIEVE salutes MERRICK and helps CHARLES limp away. He bleeds badly from his chest wound.

ANTECHAMBER, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT.

As CHARLES and GENEVIEVE run, the doors behind them burst outwards. MERRICK is crushed under falling wood and stamping feet. The baying horde of courtiers floods forth. An enormous DRACULA, only glimpsed, is among them.

MARBLED HALLWAY, BUCKINGHAM PALACE. INT. NIGHT.

CHARLES and GENEVIEVE emerge, startling liveried vampires. GENEVIEVE pulls CHARLES on. We hear the thunder of pursuit. Among the clatter of boots, there is a single flap. Giant wings. A draught sucks at CHARLES and GENEVIEVE as they struggle through the main doors.

BUCKINGHAM PALACE. EXT. NIGHT.

The skies are bloodied. Fires burn. CHARLES and GENEVIEVE emerge from the palace.

CHARLES (shouts)

The Queen is dead. Dracula rules no more.

GENEVIEVE looks for a way out. The crowds roar and the fence shakes. People press in. The gates buckle. CHARLES and GENEVIEVE stumble down the wide steps and run towards the gates. The CHINESE GIRL nods and MR YEE takes hold of the iron bars and breaks the lock. The gates fall in, and CHARLES and GENEVIEVE are embraced by the crowd.

CHARLES (weak)

Gené, Gené, Gené.

GENEVIEVE

Shush. We must hurry.

The courtiers swarm out of the Palace, tangling with the Carpathians, and pitch into the crowd. A riot-like tussle ensues. Torches and wooden crucifixes are held aloft. GENEVIEVE still supports CHARLES.

DRACULA, enormous and inhuman, emerges as a living shadow, and watches with red eyes.

KATE, dressed as a man, shins up a pole, and snatches VAN HELSING’s skull. She holds it up in triumph. The fighting spreads. Cries of ‘Death to the Dead’. The CHINESE GIRL points up to the skies. A deeper darkness than night falls. A great shadow is all around, thrown over the crowds. Twin red moons look down. Slow-flapping winds knock people off their feet. The bat-shape fills the sky over the Palace.

For a moment, the crowds fall silent. Then a voice is raised against the shape.

KATE

Death to Dracula!

CHARLES

Kate Reed, Angel of the Insurrection...

More voices join. Torches are tossed into the air but fall short. Stones pulled from the drive are hurled. Shots are fired. The huge shadow soars. CARPATHIANS charge the crowds, laying about themselves with sabres. The mob is easily beaten back through the main gates.

EVERYONE

Death to Dracula! Death to Dracula!

CHARLES

It’s done. His rule is broken.

He swoons and GENEVIEVE has to carry him out of the flow of the people.

QUIETER SPOT NEAR THE PALACE. EXT. NIGHT.

She lays him down and opens his clothes. His wound is bad. GENEVIEVE looks back.

DRACULA alights on the roof of the Palace: a gargoyle-shape, wings settling like a cloak. In the night, fires burn high.

MYCROFT (v.o.)

The Empire has become a powderkeg... but London is always the fuse, Beauregard. And anything might be the spark.

GENEVIEVE

Charles, I can save you. Charles, darling, drink... Turn vampire, and live.

GENEVIEVE bites her wrist. Blood bursts on to CHARLES’s face. He looks up, dying, vision blurry, and shakes his head.

GENEVIEVE

You don’t have to be like him. Like them. You don’t have to be like me. You just have to live...

CHARLES

I love you forever. (Blood splashes on his lips.)

GENEVIEVE (whispers)

Forever.

CHARLES drinks.§ We pull up, leaving the couple, and see the news of the Queen’s death, the call to insurrection, spreading.

LONDON. EXT. NIGHT.

DRACULA’s shadow. The wings fold, dwindling.

* In the script, Rupert of Hentzau has an expanded role, basically as a Number Two baddie after Arthur Holmwood.

* This short scene was included to make clear why Mr Yee was out to kill Geneviève. The Lord of Strange Deaths and his daughter get slightly bigger roles, though still go unnamed.

* A new character in the screenplay, named for Oliver Twist (yes, I know that’s set half a century earlier). He combines the book’s characters of Georgie, the pot-boy at the Ten Bells (whom Geneviève saves from Vardalek), and Ned, the copy-boy.

§ This parade passing faces is part of the whodunit angle, building up various characters as possible Ripper suspects.

# This scene replaces the book’s Chapter Fifteen (‘The House in Cleveland Street’). I foresaw censorship problems with the male brothel and impalement, but also wanted to modify the potentially homophobic business of Vardalek’s predation on the rent boy. I took the opportunity to sell a tiny plot point that the public destruction of a vampire might contribute to the eventual revolution.

* In the novel, Charles and Arthur are rivals rather than antagonists. This scene is something I wish I’d thought of while writing the book, playing up the short cut to success aspect of turning vampire in that it enables a poor fencer to best an expert.

* This brings together two villains, and puts Mycroft’s conspiracy in peril.

* This rearranges the business of Chapters Fifty-Five (“Fucking Hell!”) and Fifty-Six (‘Lord Jack’) a little, albeit with too much talk (I’d have pruned a lot if the script had gone into further drafts). I slightly prefer the way things pan out here, with Mary trying to defend the man who’s dissecting her and Charles shooting Jack during a fight to save Geneviève rather than summarily executing a helpless man.

* This pays off Hentzau’s increased villainy in the script, and also shows that since his bout with Arthur, Charles has gained the skill and determination to best a vampire in a serious swordfight. The suggestion is that being bitten by Geneviève has also given him sharper reflexes.

§ And here’s yet another variant ending. Charles nearly dies, but it looks like Geneviève will save him with her blood. Stuart and Andre were keen on playing up the angle of whether Charles would turn into a vampire, and this was the payoff for that strand – keeping it ambiguous in case we came to film the later books (in which Charles isn’t a vampire). When I came to write the third novel, set in 1959, I included this element in the backstory – the ending of the novel doesn’t say that this little scene doesn’t happen – to help explain Charles’ longevity.