High Stakes (14 page)

I look at Kimchi who merely wags his tail. At least someone is pleased to see me although he does seem to have gnawed off half a chair leg in the brief time he’s been here. Tiny splinters of wood are lying in a pile on the floor. I drag my attention away from them as Connor approaches. ‘Do you need some blood?’ he asks.

I nod. As everyone is staring at me, I point towards the small room at the back. I don’t need a sodding audience. ‘Look,’ I say, exasperated. ‘It is possible I may have been too hasty in what I said to Michael. But it’s between me and him. It’s got nothing to do with New Order.’

‘I beg to differ, my dear,’ my grandfather says. ‘He’s responsible for setting up New Order. If we fail in our endeavours, he will go down with the ship, so to speak. It’s imperative we maintain good relations.’ He looks at me disapprovingly. ‘And really, it’s in incredibly bad taste to have a shouting match when one is in earshot of others.’

I grit my teeth. ‘I get what you’re saying and I will make amends. Right now, however, we need to find this Crimewatch video.’ I wave the poster in the air.

Arzo scan it. ‘Stakes? Bo, you don’t think…’

‘It’s incredibly rare for cross-species attacks to occur,’ my grandfather chimes in.

I soften my voice. ‘Please, just find the video. We need to see it.’ I follow Connor and close the door firmly behind me.

‘Are you okay, Bo?’

I smile at him reassuringly. ‘I am.’ The etched furrow of concern on his forehead doesn’t go away. ‘I promise.’

He holds out his wrist and I check his eyes carefully. ‘If you don’t want to do this, Connor, I understand. You can say no whenever you want.’

He smiles faintly. ‘I think you’re still hoping I will say no. It’ll get easier, Bo. Other vampires don’t feel like this, so I’m sure your aversion to blood will go away soon.’

‘Why do you do this?’ I ask for the umpteenth time. I know he’s answered me before but I’m still not satisfied. ‘Is it because you want to be recruited and you think this is a way in?’

‘Nah. I don’t want to be a bloodguzzler. I thought about it for a while but seeing you…’ He wrinkles his nose. ‘It’s not for me. I want a long life, though. I have other plans to achieve that longevity.’

‘Eating your greens?’

He laughs. ‘No. There’s a company called Time Lapse that’s doing cool things. You know how some rich dead people have their bodies cryogenically frozen so that when we solve the mysteries of death, they can be brought back to life? Well, Time Lapse have discovered there are these things called time bubbles. They’re pretty rare and they don’t have much reach but they can be used to preserve time. Maybe even to go back in time.’

I gaze at him incredulously. ‘Time travel? That’s your big plan to cheat death?’

‘Don’t scoff,’ he says earnestly. ‘They’re a long way from success right now but I’m young. They’ll figure it out.’ He points to leaflet on a nearby shelf. There’s a picture of an orb with blue swirls floating around inside and the words
Cheat Death
underneath.

I decide he’s even crazier than I thought. He’s probably in good company. He points to his neck and smiles at me so, for the sake of a quiet life, I bob my head. My fangs lengthen so I can sink them into his soft flesh. For a brief moment I gag before the sustenance his blood offers takes over.

Once we’re finished, we re-enter the office. The others are crowded round a computer screen.

‘We found it!’ Matt says cheerfully. At my glance, his expression falls. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbles, subduing his tone. ‘I mean, we found it.’

I join them, although with my lack of height I can’t see anything. Connor manages fine. I cough delicately.

‘Sorry, Bo,’ Arzo says, moving out of the way. ‘Always forget you are so short.’

‘You’re cruising for a bruising.’ I give him my death stare that so effectively silenced Meg. Unfortunately, Arzo doesn’t even notice.

The photo of the young daemon on the poster appears on the screen as the presenter details the circumstances of the crime.

‘Park,’ Peter mutters. ‘Just like the other one.’

‘That one’s much more secluded though. You couldn’t get more public than bloody Jubilee Park.’

‘Shhh!’ I hiss, pulling out my notepad and watching carefully.

The victim’s name is Rebecca Small. I’m surprised that her identity is revealed so carelessly but the presenter says she has waived her right to confidentiality in the hope that her attacker will be brought to justice swiftly. I’m guessing that didn’t happen then. She was barely seventeen when it happened and living with her parents; that probably rules out her being a prostitute like Corinne. Fresh-faced and very, very young – not to mention a daemon. They couldn’t be further removed from each other.

I feel a flash of pain in my hands and realise that I’ve drawn blood with my fingernails. I try to release the tension in my body but it’s not easy. Apparently, Rebecca was walking home from school when she was dragged off the street in broad daylight. The park she was taken to was quiet and rarely used at that time of year. The manner of her abduction suggests the perpetrator didn’t worry about being seen. He was wearing a balaclava the entire time so there’s no photofit to match with Corinne’s. But, like Corinne, Rachel was staked to the ground and brutally raped. He didn’t try to kill her though. Once he was done, he merely stood up, zipped his trousers and left.

‘They have to be the same person,’ Arzo says, once the video is finished. ‘Even though the victims are worlds apart.’

‘He’s escalating though. He used to wear a balaclava; now he doesn’t. He used to hide his crimes; now he doesn’t. And,’ I add quietly, ‘he used to let his victims go. He’d have killed Corinne Matheson if he could.’

‘He almost did,’ my grandfather says grimly. ‘Bo, you need to pass this information to the police. They can deal with it.’ He shakes his head. ‘This is why we need greater cooperation between different triber groups and the humans. The similarities between the two crimes should have been spotted earlier.’

I take a deep breath. ‘There can’t be just two. There’s no way this prick left a four-year gap between Rebecca and Corinne. What was he doing in between? Going to work? Watching the soaps? Doing his laundry? No,’ I shake my head. ‘There are others.’

Peter’s voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear him. ‘Are we sure it’s not a vampire who did this?’

‘Yes. Whoever it is has a gold tooth.’ I turn and glance at Kimchi for a moment. ‘Have we heard from the vet yet?’

Connor nods. ‘The dog is not a vampire.’

‘Surprise, surprise,’ I say drily.

‘He is sensitive to light though. Photophobia. And he has pigmentation in his irises. That’s why he’s got the red in his eyes. Other than that, he’s perfectly healthy.’

‘It’s almost a shame,’ Arzo comments. ‘With those symptoms, he’d make a perfect pet for a vampire like you.’

I look at Kimchi fondly until I realise that in the space of about three seconds he’s managed to get hold of a suspiciously familiar looking pair of knickers. He couldn’t have gone upstairs to the flat and brought them down here so he must have taken them earlier and hidden them somewhere like he was guarding a bone. Eurgh. I quickly retrieve the ripped and saliva-soaked underwear and stuff it in my pocket. Peter, Connor and Matt are gracious enough to look away; Arzo appears amused and my grandfather is horrified.

‘I’m going to take him back to his owner,’ I mutter. ‘It’s late but I’ve got a question or two that Mr Brinkish might help us with.’

‘About these girls? How? Bo, it’s not a vampire matter. Leave it for the police.’

I put my hands on my hips. ‘Why? Because we’re so run off our feet here that we can’t spare the time? You didn’t see her. You didn’t see what he did to her.’

‘Who’ll talk to the police then?’

‘Matt. He can speak to Foxworthy.’

Matt grins and nods, obviously happy to be useful. He’s also probably relieved to not have to go back to Brinkish’s place and be asked again to take off his shoes.

I give the little gathering a hard look. ‘The rest of you should go home and get some rest. Tomorrow you’ll need to start looking for evidence of similar rapes.’ I pause. ‘Or worse.’

*

Before I leave, my grandfather beckons me into his office and carefully closes the door. ‘You should leave this to the police,’ he growls.

‘That’s not what you really want to say. Spit it out. Tell me off again for arguing with Michael.’ I fold my arms. I’m a big girl; I can deal with it.

‘From what I heard, you had some reason to be angry.’ I blink in shock. Is he agreeing with me? ‘And,’ he continues, ‘I’m pleased to see you’re standing up for yourself as far as he’s concerned. It’s certainly better than fawning all over him like a lovesick puppy.’

‘I wasn’t doing that!’ I protest.

He ignores me. ‘But I meant what I said before. You should apologise for the sake of propriety. And, for heaven’s sake, Bo, next time either go somewhere you won’t be overheard or keep your voice down. Airing your dirty laundry in public is such a lower class thing to do.’

I cannot believe he just said that. ‘Well,’ I say, ‘there’s nothing like a spot of bigoted snobbery to start the conversation off.’

He throws me a disparaging look. ‘Have you made any progress with Medici yet?’

‘I’d have told you if I had.’

‘There’s no need to get snippy.’

I throw my hands up in exasperation. ‘As you said, it’s taking a lot of time. At the rate I’m going, he’ll be chucking a fully brainwashed Dahlia in Arzo’s face before I’ve managed to reach the heady heights of small talk. And he’s fully aware that I’m regularly turning up at his club.’

‘Good. We want him to think he knows everything that’s going on.’

‘He
does
know everything that’s going on,’ I point out.

‘For the moment,’ my grandfather says. ‘It won’t last.’

‘Are you going to let me in on the plans?’

‘I’m still finessing the details. Patience, Bo. Patience. You can chase a butterfly all over a field and then, the moment you sit quietly in the grass, it’ll land on your shoulder.’

‘Medici is hardly a butterfly. He’s more like the snake in the grass that’ll come up and bite you in the arse when you’re not looking.’

‘Except we are looking. We are looking very hard.’

I bite my tongue. As far as the Lord of the Medici Family is concerned, I don’t think we’re doing nearly enough. On this matter at least, however, I’ve promised to adhere to my grandfather’s wishes. He is the spymaster amongst us, after all.

I change the subject. ‘The police have still got my bike. Anyway it’s not practical to drive it when I’m with Kimchi. Can I borrow your car?’

‘Absolutely not. I won’t have my vehicle stinking of dog.’

He doesn’t seem to mind it reeking of cat, I think sourly. Then I realise I’ve not seen his stupid moggy today. I look round the room suspiciously, wondering if it’s eyeing me up somewhere and waiting for the right moment to pounce. Bloody thing.

‘Peter’s heading in that direction,’ he continues. ‘You can catch a lift with him.’

‘How do I get back?’

‘For goodness’ sake, Bo. Do I have to think of everything?’

I swear, if he wasn’t elderly I’d slap him around a few times. Then I notice the corner of his mouth twitching. Well, at least one of us is having some fun.

*

The journey to Brinkish’s house is almost silent. I try to make conversation a few times with Peter but his answers are monosyllabic. Eventually, I give in so the only sound in the car is Kimchi panting. The dog takes great joy in squeezing from the back seat to my lap, where he sits happily for five minutes, then returns through the narrow gap between the front passenger seats for another five minutes.

I’m tempted to fiddle with the radio but I sense that Peter wouldn’t appreciate it. When he drops the pair of us outside the house, he looks relieved. I wave a friendly goodbye but Peter barely notices before he speeds away. I chew my lip as he disappears round the corner. He doesn’t seem to enjoy being Sanguine any more than he enjoyed being human or a vampire recruit. I don’t mean to feel bitter – it’s not his fault I didn’t make it to Sanguine – but I can’t quite avoid it.

Sighing, I walk up the path to Brinkish’s front door. I’m halfway there when I realise Kimchi isn’t following. I turn back. He’s lying down on the pavement, his large brown eyes watching me. He lets out a small whine. ‘Come on, Kimchi,’ I say. He doesn’t budge. I try again. ‘Kimchi! Here boy!’

Slowly, as if it’s a great effort, he drags himself up and lumbers over to join me. He looks at me as if to say that I’m betraying our friendship by bringing him back here. Then I wonder if I’m merely projecting my own thoughts.

I ring the doorbell and wait. After a few minutes the door opens a crack and a bleary-eyed woman peers out. She’s wearing a brightly coloured floral nightgown that hangs around her large figure like a tent. This must be Mrs Brinkish.

‘Hello!’ I say cheerily. ‘I’m bringing Kimchi home.’

Her gaze flicks from me to the dog, then back again. ‘You’re the vampire.’

I nod. ‘Yes. We’ve had the results from the vet and I can confirm that the dog’s definitely not a vampire. Truthfully,’ I say confidentially, ‘there’s really no such thing.’

‘You’re not coming in. I’m not going to invite you.’

It’s probably wise not to mention that her husband has already done that deed. If I wanted to offend my eyes again with their clashing home interior, I could. ‘No problem.’ I keep my smile fixed to my face and gently push Kimchi forward. ‘Off you go.’

He whines again but does as he’s told for once. Mrs Brinkish holds up her hand and he stops in his tracks. ‘Barry!’ she yells. Then, ‘Get your arse down here. It’s the bloodguzzler.’

She turns round, disappearing into the back of the house but leaving the door wide open. When Brinkish appears, he’s wearing pyjamas made out of the same material as his wife’s nightgown. It’s an arresting sight.

He frowns at me. ‘Oh, it’s you. You do realise it’s the middle of the night?’

‘I’m a vampire, Mr Brinkish.’ I shrug amiably. ‘I can’t help it.’

He grunts. Kimchi thumps his tail and starts forward. Brinkish scratch his head, then suddenly withdraws his hand as he thinks better of it. ‘So?’ he asks.