Symphony of Blood, A Hank Mondale Supernatural Case (6 page)

I was mad at myself for saying that. Firstly, because it wasn’t my place to say that. Secondly, because I really needed the job. If Mackenzie Blake was out of her fucking mind, what did I care, so long as I got paid.

“You’re skeptical.”

“It’s just…”

 Blake cut me off and put up his arms for me to stop talking. “I fully expected you to be skeptical. I don’t want a yes-man, Mr. Mondale. I have plenty of those on my payroll already.”

“If that’s the case, Mr. Blake,” I couldn’t believe what I was about to say, but I couldn’t stop myself, “Then I think I should just pass on the job.”

“Mr. Mondale, I am impressed.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

Blake continued: “I expected you to be a fine detective. But I didn’t expect such ethics. It’s admirable.”

“Nah. I just think maybe your daughter needs a different type of help than I have to offer.”

Thomas Blake laughed, but I don’t think he was really amused. “Mr. Mondale, come with me.”

He walked down the steps, then called out, “Horace.”

The old man in the black suit came waddling over like a penguin; even though he was tall and slender, his dutiful walk had more side to side than forward movement in it.

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you seen my flashlight?”

“Why, yes. I’ll go get it. Just a minute.”

The butler walked into the next room and I could hear him opening drawers in what sounded like a wood cabinet. Within a minute, he was back.

“Here you are, sir.” He handed Blake a long, black flashlight.

“Thank you, Horace.” Blake said, then to me he said, “Come on outside.”

“I think I’ll get my coat this time.”

Standing just a few feet away, Horace said, “Of course, sir.” He was to the closet and back with my coat in no time. He moved well for a guy his age.

“Thanks.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Blake led me back to the double doors. He opened them and we stepped out. Instead of heading away from the house, he went the other way on the path; it ran along the side of the house.

“I want you to know we aren’t crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Mr. Blake.”

“I need you to take this investigation seriously. I need you to find the monster that is threatening my daughter.”

Muted light was shining through a window on the third floor. I could see the shadow of the bookcase showing through the lacey, light-colored drapes. We stopped in front of it. Blake turned on the flashlight. He pointed it along the side of the house and slowly moved it up the wall.

“You see those marks?”

“Yes. I see them.”

The marks were muddy and scratched into the side of the house. The house was a traditional, colonial-style home, albeit quite large. The wood was painted white. Even in the dark, the muddy scratches stood out. The light reached the windowsill, and the scratches looked even deeper.

“You see? That’s Mackenzie’s room. The creature scaled the wall and tried to claw its way inside her room.”

“I see the tracks. Maybe
its
an animal.”

“It
is
an animal. But not like any animal I’ve ever seen before.”

I nodded. Then asked, “When did these marks in the house appear?”

“A few weeks ago. When that unexpected warm front hit.”

His comment jolted me, but I tried not to let it show. “The Indian summer?”

“Yes, if that’s what you’d like to call it.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Let’s go back inside,” he said.

I followed him back into the double doors. Horace was waiting for us and immediately took my coat. We walked back up the two flights of steps towards Mackenzie Blake’s room.

“Mr. Blake,” I said as we walked down the navy blue-carpeted hall towards the room, “I want to help, but I’m going to need a little more to go on. Mackenzie has to tell me all she knows. I’m a detective. I gather leads and track them down. So far, I have nothing.”

Blake nodded his head and walked back into the room. I walked in behind him.

The room was dark, all the lights shut off. There was the dim glow of a flashlight ahead. Wes was holding the light. I could see the round silhouette of Marty next to him eating a bag of cookies or something.

“She wants the lights off, Mr. Blake,” Wes said.

“I know. You fellas wait outside. Give us a minute with her.”

“No!” she yelled from inside the bathroom. “I want them close by.”

“Fine, fine.” Blake said. Then he waved me over and said, “Mackenzie. Please talk to Mr. Mondale. He is going to find that thing for us, and help us get rid of it once and for all.”

I walked over to the bathroom door. It was pitch black inside. I saw a tiny reflection of light coming off a metal towel rack. As my eyes adjusted, I could see the outline of her, still clutching the tiny dog in her arms. She’d come out from behind the toilet and was now sitting in the dead middle of the room on a bathmat.

“Mackenzie, I want to help. I can see you’ve been through something traumatic. The only way I can help is if you give me all the information you know.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” I stepped into the room.

“Here.” Wes handed me a lit flashlight.

I grabbed it and pointed it towards the floor to give the room some light without shining it directly in her face. “Thanks.” I sat down on the mat, but not too close to her. I didn’t want her to feel crowded. “Okay, Mackenzie. This thing that’s after you, what does it look like?”

She sniffled loudly, then in a phlegm-filled voice, she said, “Gross.”

“Gross?” That wasn’t much help, but I knew I had to be patient and allow the kid to let it all out.

“Yes. It looks kind of like a lizard.”

“A lizard?”

“Yes, it has a tail, and a really long tongue.” She began to shiver, “
Ew
, its tongue is really gross. It’s really long. It’s so gross.”

“Okay. What else?”

“It seems scary, but it’s afraid of people.”

“Okay, so I’m looking for a lizard-like creature, with a tail and a long tongue.” I was trying really hard to sound sincere, but it was getting more and more difficult. “How big is it?”

“It’s about five feet tall, but it won’t look like this anyway.”

“Why not?”

“It can camouflage itself. It masks itself to look like a regular person.”

“Camouflage. I see.” How convenient.

“It eats people,” she said.

I stood up and thought for a minute. The whole thing sounded ridiculous. She needed a shrink or rehab, or both. But what did I care? This guy had money and was willing to pay. I needed money. I wasn’t sure how good my acting job was coming off, but all I could do was continue to play the role. So I asked the most logical question.

“Why is he after you, Mackenzie?”

She didn’t answer. In fact, even in the dim light, I could see the question bothered her. She curled up and began rocking the dog back and forth again.

“Mackenzie, I need to know. Why is this creature after you?”

“It eats people. That’s what it does. That’s how it survives.”

“I understand. But why you?”

The pace of the rocking sped up. Her head was shaking now too. She was muttering something, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Please, Mackenzie. I need to know.”

“It eats people.”

“Okay. I understand.” I was about to give up. No amount of questioning was going to get through to this
crackhead
, spoiled kid. But then she said something that made my head reel.

“It eats them from the inside out.”

“What did you say?”

“It eats them from the inside out.”

“I see.” I no longer had to act interested; I was truly intrigued.

I stood up and walked into the bedroom. Thomas Blake was waiting for me. He extended his arm towards me. In his hand was a thick envelope with a rubber band around it.

“There’s five thousand dollars in here, Mr. Mondale.” I could see exasperation built up in his bulging jawbones and the bags under his eyes drooped. “This will get you started. If you find this thing, there will be another twenty.”

I licked my lips at the prospects. Then, when I thought things couldn’t get any better, they did.

“And if you find it and kill it, I will give you another fifty.”

I took the envelope from him and nodded. “I’ll do my best, Mr. Blake.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

We walked down the steps, Blake in the lead, me two steps behind.

“Listen, Mr. Mondale. You obviously see the sensitivity of this matter.”

“Of course.”

“So, I don’t have to tell you just how important your discretion is in this case, do I?”

“Of course not. I understand, completely.”

“Then I can count on you to tell nothing of this case to anyone. Correct?”

“Of course. The confidentiality of my clients is always of utmost importance to me. I am a professional, Mr. Blake.”

He raised his hands, almost apologetically. “Of course.”

“But you must understand one thing.” I paused and he stopped on the staircase landing between floors. “In cases like these, I have to follow the trail wherever it goes. And sometimes, that can be in places that make my clients uncomfortable.”

His face tightened as his eyes squinted slightly. For the first time since I’d been in his presence, his shoulders slumped.

I could see he was bothered, but I continued. I’d given this speech before but I could tell it was his first time hearing it. “I work for you. But in order to do my job, I must have complete access, to everything and anything I need. I can’t predict in advance where the investigation will take me.”

Blake thumbed his chin, then said, “Absolutely. We are on the same team in this. We both want the same thing, to solve the case.”

“Good.” I said.

“But I do have one condition.”

“Go ahead.” I knew this guy was too used to being catered to, to just agree to my terms without some stipulation.

“You will be given complete and total access as needed, but anything you find, you will come to me first. No matter what it is. No police. No outside parties. You come to me. No matter what you find.”

It didn’t surprise me to hear him say that, but I still stopped to ponder its potential implications.

“Is that understood, Mr. Mondale?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good.”

* *

By the time the limousine dropped me off in front of my apartment, it was almost ten o’clock. I stopped at Jo Jo’s grocery and picked up a six-pack of imported stuff. I figured I should lay off the whiskey for the night; I had a long day coming ahead of me, but I owed myself a little celebration.

I walked inside, dropped my coat and used the corner of my kitchen table to knock the top off the beer bottle. No sense looking for a bottle opener. While guzzling down the cold beer, I grabbed the remote control and flipped on the TV. The Lakers were about to start.

There was no way the Lakers would burn me two nights in a row. My luck was running hot. But when I checked the paper, I saw they were facing the San Antonio Spurs. The Spurs had won on three of their last four visits to The Staples Center, according to the brief write-up of the game. I had a sudden change of mind to go the other way.

I called Flip’s office and the phone was answered on the first ring. I could hear the shuffling in the background. Sounded like a busy night.

“Yeah,” the old guy said.

“Hey, it’s Hank. Flip’s Hank.”

“Hank! Are you serious?”

“What? My credit’s good. I settled with Flip today.”

“Hold on.” The scratching sound of the phone being held to the man’s chest was followed by some back and forth between two men. “Okay, Hank.
Whaddaya
need?”

“What’s the Laker line?”

“Lakers are three tonight.”

“Okay, give me the Spurs four hundred times.” Worst case scenario, I could eat the two grand out of the advance Blake gave me. But I wouldn’t need it. My luck was turning.

“Okay, Hank. It’s your funeral.”

“Have a little faith, buddy.”

“Good luck.” With that semi-sincere well wish, he hung up.

The first six-pack was gone by halftime, as the Lakers were cruising to a twenty point lead, but I wasn’t losing hope. I went back down to Jo Jo’s, picked up another six, and settled in. San Antonio was a well-coached team, full of gamers and veteran players. They mustered up a nice comeback in the third quarter, and even took the lead briefly early in the fourth. But the comeback must have taken all their energy because in the last two minutes, they let it slip away. And I owed Flip another two thousand dollars plus a ten percent
vig
.