Talk about specialists. Chicago homicide cop Jimmy Parisi scores a hat trick by notching his third consecutive hunt for a serial killer messing up young women.
In Cutter (2001), the unfortunate victims were sliced and diced. In Season of the Assassin (2003), they were beaten to a pulp. Now a Poe-loving perp kidnaps his targets, binds and gags them, then, slowly, methodically, over a period of days, proceeds to drain veins, arteries, and capillaries. Think vampirism, think occult, think Black Masses. And think Poe, for whom the misogynistic brute seems to have developed a passion, especially for his “Spirits of the Dead,” a poem in five stanzas. On learning of this literary fixation, Jimmy P. instantly flashes to what must certainly be the killer’s m.o. Since there are five verses, there must be five victims, even though only two of them have appeared so far. The Count, as he’s been dubbed by the media, must be stopped before his count mounts. That’s not easy, since the Count is as smart and slippery as he is bloodthirsty. Where’s Buffy when you need her?
Grand Guignol stuff aside, though, it’s all standard issue.