EXT., HALLWAY/OUTSIDE SMALL BUILDING, DAY
Detective Andrew Tassel, young, new on job, squares his shoulders before entering outer room of the Morgue. Gives himself a little pep-talk.
ANDREW
Okay, Drew, you can do this. Yes, it’s your first murder, yes, you’re new on the job.
Sign on the wall instructs him to put on “sterile suit” hanging on wall and gloves. Also tells him to leave all phones and electronic devices in basket on counter. He does this while continuing the pep talk.
ANDREW (CONT’D)
But this is a frickin’ one horse town. And you have a degree, a degree in Criminology. Use your head. You probably know more forensics than this podunk doctor. Let’s just get this over quickly.
He opens the door and enters main room of Morgue.
INT., MORGUE, DAY
Body of KATHERINE FEATHER on slab, we see her bare feet and head. The rest of the body is draped. Medical Examiner ISAIAH CRANE examines the feet as Andrew enters. CRANE is a tall, thin, slightly morose man, given to folding his hands in front of his chest while speaking. His speech is cryptic, punctuated by the occasional inappropriate smile.
ANDREW
Hi. You are . . .?
CRANE
Isaiah Crane, M.D., J.D., Ph.D.
(turning)
Your M.E. You can call me Dr. Crane.
ANDREW
Hello. Hi. I’m Andrew Tassel. Detective Andrew Tassel.
CRANE
Welcome to King Gulch. How can I help you?
Andrew glances at the body as CRANE continues to examine lower extremities. He retches slightly.
CRANE (CONT’D)
What? Did you say something?
ANDREW
No, nothing. So, Dr. Crane can you give me any information about Ms. Feather’s death?
CRANE
Yes. . .
ANDREW
(impatient)
Well . . . Your report?
CRANE
. . . isn’t complete yet.
ANDREW
What? What am I doing here? You called me, said I should come over.
CRANE
I thought we should meet.
ANDREW
Really? Like I don’t have enough to do? Okay, as long as I’m here, how about a preview?
CRANE
I don’t do previews . . . But I’ll humor you since you’re new. Death occurred at approximately 11pm. Cause of death was asphyxia. But the blood work isn’t complete. The discoloration and edema of the feet and ankles I can’t figure out yet.
ANDREW
Great. How can give me a time of death when you don’t even know what she died of? You’re wasting MY time.
CRANE
I’m wasting your time? Listen, sonny, I’m not only the ME in this county, I’m the only doctor, too. You were the one who wanted me to get this autopsy done. I’d rather be delivering a baby somewhere.
ANDREW
Hey! Out here there have to be more deaths than births.
CRANE
Natural deaths, but not . . . Murder!
ANDREW
So it IS murder.
CRANE
But of course.
Crane lifts the drape, puts his head underneath, tenting the sheet on his head so he can use both hands.
CRANE (CONT’D)
Come here, take a look.
Andrew retches slightly but gets his head under the drape.
ANDREW
What am I looking at?
CRANE
See that, right there at the throat.
ANDREW
God that’s nasty! Can we speed it up please?
They both poke their heads out from under the sheet.
CRANE
You know, you remind me of the last detective we had out here. He was young and in a hurry, too.
ANDREW
What happened to him?
CRANE
He got locked in here one night. He was real strange when we let him out the next day . . . Up and quit not long after.
Andrew looks toward the door. Crane gets his head back under the drape.
CRANE (CONT’D)
As I was saying . . .
Crane pulls Andrew back under the drape.
CRANE(CONT’D)
This lump at the throat seems to be the obstruction. I’ll dissect it.
Andrew groans, drops to the floor. Crane hands him the emesis basin from the side table.
CRANE(CONT’D)
Don’t mess up my floor, kid.
Crane works, Andrew groans on floor.
CRANE(CONT’D)
Voila! Didn’t expect that.
Crane throws off drape (we don’t see body) brandishing a rolled up piece of cardboard, slightly bloody, dripping a little on Andrew.
ANDREW
Oh my god, what is that?
Crane begins to unroll it, chortling in anticipation.
CRANE
Let’s see.
Andrew staggers up from floor. Crane hands him the cardboard roll; Andrew takes it reluctantly.
CRANE (CONT’D)
You do the honors, Sonny.
Andrew lays the roll on the table and finishes carefully unrolling the object. In b.g. Crane walks toward the door.
ANDREW
Good God! It’s a record album cover. Slim Pickens?
The door slams behind Crane as he leaves. Lights are switched off.
ANDREW(CONT’D)
Crane? Dr. Crane?
Andrew moves toward the door which has a small window allowing faint light in. His back is to the room but we see the corpse sit up. Gurgling sounds and a woman clearing her throat.
Andrew doesn’t look but starts rattling door handle, clawing at door, trying to escape.
ANDREW (CONT’D)
Help! Crane, help, help. Somebody help me!
KATHERINE
(gruffly)
Errgh. Errgh.
(clears throat)
Glad they got that out, it was killing me.
END
Images by Hannah Fulop