Evil Dark (18 page)

  "Yeah, all right," I said. "Here's what's going on."

  Karl and I took turns telling him all about the snuff films, but I didn't share my theory about Helter Skelter – not just yet.

  "So, Mister Milo out there was in town trying to find the sick bastards who're making these snuff films," Scanlon said, "before they hurt the reputation of the porn industry. If you ask me, that's kind of like a Mafia family worrying about its public image, but OK."

  "Even the Mafia does PR these days," Karl said.

  "Whatever," Scanlon said. "So, who hit him?"

  "The logical answer is – whoever's making the snuff films," I said. "Only problem with that is, Milo didn't know anything worth killing him over. Or if he did, the oily bastard didn't share it with me."

  "Hard to imagine, isn't it?" Scanlon said.

  "Maybe he shared it with Sharkey, instead," Karl said.

  Scanlon looked at him quickly. "Sharkey's dead."

  "Be nice to think so," I said. "But there's a rumor going around that he's back in town, and the pupils of Milo's eyes gave him away when I mentioned Sharkey's name."

  "Sharkey," Scanlon said. "Jesus."

  "The fact that Milo got hit
must
mean that he stumbled onto something useful, even if he didn't tell us about it," I said.

  "Not necessarily," Karl said. "Maybe whoever's making these fucking snuff films is just real thorough, that's all. The Columbian drug lords operate the same way, I hear. The slightest threat to their operation appears, they don't worry about how important it is – they just wipe it out."

  "That still doesn't explain why the killer, or killers, went to work on the ghouls and not Milo," Scanlon said.

  "No, it doesn't," I said. "Maybe we don't have enough information to answer that yet."

  "We don't have enough information to blow our fucking noses," Scanlon said.

  "Fuckin' A," Karl said.

  "Speaking of information, you'll send us a copy of the case file?"

  "Yeah, sure. It'll help me fool myself that I'm actually accomplishing something on this case."

  "I'll be sending you a file, too," I said. "We've got a murder that looked at first like a supernatural case, but now I'm not so sure."

  "I can hardly wait," Scanlon said.

  In the car, Karl said, "There's something about the way Milo was knifed that's been nagging at me."

  "It's pretty unusual, all right," I said.

  "That's not what I mean – it reminds me of something I heard about once, but I can't remember the details."

  "Stop thinking about it, you'll drive yourself nuts," I said. "Your subconscious will come up with the answer when it's good and ready."

  "Hope it's ready before Helter Skelter gets here."

  "Well, with any luck –
what did you say
?"

  Karl was looking at me strangely. "I said, 'I hope I remember before–'"

  "Helter Skelter. Damn!"

  "You can start making sense any time now, Stan."

  "That's why the killer back there mutilated the two ghouls, but not Milo. He was going for a twofer."

  "Stan–"

  "He cut up the ghouls because, once word got out, it would piss off the supe community. And somebody's been working pretty damn hard lately to rile up the supe community – and the humans, too, if that fake vampire kill we saw tonight is any indication."

  "Wait – I thought Milo was killed by the snuff film people," Karl said.

  "He was –
because they're the same people
."

 

Back at the squad, I asked Louise where the two Feebies were.

  "No idea, Stan. They haven't been in all night."

  "Did they leave you contact info?"

  "No, nothing. I asked, but…" She made a "What can you do?" gesture.

  "Yeah, I know," I said. "The pricks think they're too good for us – as usual. Where's McGuire? He's not in his office."

  "Went home an hour ago. Says he's maybe got that twenty-four-hour bug that's going around."

  "Great, just great. I guess I'll have to tell everybody about my brilliant deduction tomorrow night."

  "If you really need to tell somebody, you can tell me," she said with a smile. "I don't mind listening."

  Louise is pretty sweet, most of the time. It's hard to believe that she's Civil Service.

  "That's all right, Louise," I said. "It would take me an hour to give you the background, and I'm not sure if the payoff would be worth it for you. But thanks."

  She gave a toss of her head that sent the blonde curls bouncing. "That's OK."

  "When you see the Feebies again, ask them to do something for me, will you?"

  She pulled a pad over and grabbed a pencil. "Sure – go ahead."

  "Tell them I think it would be a good idea to find out who owns the
People's Voice
– I mean who
really
owns it, not what it says in small print on page 2."

  She wrote busily for a few seconds. "Got it, Stan – I'll tell them the next time they come in."

  "Thanks. Hey – how'd the tournament go last weekend? Did you take First again?"

  Louise is an absolute genius at Scrabble, and she's got the trophies to prove it.

  She made a face. "Nah. Second."

  "You'll get 'em next time."

  "Damn straight I will."

  Karl and I spent about an hour catching up on paperwork – or whatever we should call it these days, since no paper's involved. Then we signed out for the night. Fifteen minutes later, I was home.

  As I closed the front door behind me, I noticed there was no light on in the kitchen. Christine can see fine in the dark, but she usually leaves the light on for my sake. I flipped the switch – no Christine. Tonight had been her night off, so I knew she hadn't gone to work.

  Living room – nothing. I looked in the basement, although Christine never goes down there until she has to. Nothing. Then I checked the bathroom and upstairs.
Nada
.

  A cold hand had gripped my chest as soon as I saw the darkened kitchen, and with every room I looked in, it grabbed a little tighter. I checked my watch – sunrise in seven minutes.

  If she was stuck somewhere and couldn't get home before dawn, she'd have called – either to have me come get her, or at least to let me know that she was OK. But my cell phone hadn't rung all night. It occurred to me to check the house phone – we still have a landline, call me old-fashioned – and felt a surge of relief when I saw the red light blinking on the answering machine. I started toward it – and then heard the sound of a key in the front door.

  A moment later, Christine walked in. I resisted the temptation to go all fatherly and give her, "Where have you been, young lady?" She was an adult now, and besides, she's a
vampire
– people are probably afraid of
her
.

  She closed the door and said, "Hi, Daddy." To my ears she sounded a little like a teenager coming home way past curfew, but I might have been projecting my own feelings onto her.

  I took a deep breath, let it out and said, "You're cutting it pretty close tonight, baby. Sun's up in–"

  "Six minutes. I know. I hope you weren't worried."

  "What – me worry? I'm a regular Paul Newman."

  She laughed a little. "I think you mean Alfred E." She came over and gave me a hug, and when she stepped back I saw, at the corner of her mouth, a tiny smear of red.

  As she went over to put her purse on the kitchen counter I said, because I had to, "Mind if I ask where you were tonight?"

  She turned back at once. The look she gave me wasn't angry, exactly, but I didn't think she was about to nominate me for Father of the Year, either.

  She raised one eyebrow – something I've never been able to do, but her mother always could – and said, "I thought the new policy was 'Don't ask – don't tell.' Was it only good for twenty-four hours?"

  We stood looking at each other for a little bit, then I blinked a couple of times and nodded slowly. "Yeah, you're right. I withdraw the question, and I'll try not to ask it again." I gave her half a grin. "Guess maybe I was a little worried, after all."

  Her face relaxed. "I know, and I'm sorry I put you through it. I tried to take a shortcut home. Like most shortcuts, it ended up taking longer than the regular way."

  "You could've transformed and flown home," I said.

  "Yeah, I know. If I was really pushing the dawn, I would have. But I'd hate to just leave the car, with my purse in it, parked on some street all day. So I'm saving going batty as a last resort."

  "You're the best judge," I said. "Just call me Paranoid Papa."

  She gave me a smile that looked genuine. "I don't think it's called paranoia if you're scared for someone else." Glancing toward the window she said, "Well, time for nighty-night. See you at sundown."

  She was opening the basement door when I said, "Don't get pissed off, but I need to ask you a very specific question, baby. Either answer it, or don't."

  Her expression became wary. "All right, but be quick, huh?"

  "Do you know a guy named Lester Howard?"

  "Is he warm?"

  He wasn't when
I
saw him, but to avoid confusing her I just said, "Yeah."

  Her brows furrowed, then she shook her head slowly. "Nope, the name doesn't ring any bells. Why?"

  "I'll tell you about it tonight. Sleep well, honey."

  "OK, then. Goodnight, Daddy." She closed the door behind her, and I could hear her footsteps on the stairs.

  I'm not going to say it's impossible for Christine to deceive me. Any parent who thinks that is a fool. But I've known her a long time – her whole life, and then some – and I believed her.

  Then I remembered that answering machine message. If it wasn't Christine, then who…?

 

When Christine got up, I told her about Lester Howard, and then about the whole Helter Skelter thing. Since these bastards were going around killing supes as well as humans, I figured she ought to know.

  When I finished, she took a last swallow from the cup of warm plasma she'd been drinking, pushed the cup to the side and said, "Race war? Seriously? These people have
got
to be insane."

  "I wouldn't doubt it," I said.

  "I mean, they're crazy enough for wanting it, but if they think they can actually make it happen…" She shook her head.

  "Yeah, I know. But the fact that it's a pipe dream doesn't mean they won't kill people trying to achieve it, just like Charlie Manson and his followers did, back in the day. Or Hitler, before him."

  "Hitler wanted Helter Skelter too? I never knew that."

  "No, what I mean is he had a crazy racial dream – a completely Aryan world. Ridiculous idea, but Adolf and his buddies wiped out millions trying to achieve it."

  "Yeah, OK, I get you."

  "Which is why I'd like you to be extra careful when you're out, wherever you go. These lunatics have killed at least six supes so far, two of them vampires. And they're not going to quit until somebody stops them."

  "I assume that's where you come in," she said.

  "Goddamn right I do – but it's gonna take a while, which is why I want you to be alert and cautious at all times."

  "Yes, Daddy." Usually, there's a teasing lilt to her voice when she says that. But not this time.

  "I've got a locksmith coming over tomorrow," I told her. "He's going to put better locks on the doors and install a deadbolt on the door to the basement. It'll ease my mind a little about leaving you here alone all day."

  "Fine with me," she said. "I want to rest, in peace, during the day, not rest in peace forever."

  "Do you really?"

  She frowned at me. "Huh?"

  "I mean, would you rather be undead than true dead? Karl and I had a conversation about that the other night."

  "Doesn't sound like an easy talk to have."

  "It wasn't. Karl reminded me that he's a vampire because of me, just like you are. I asked if he'd prefer that I let him die, back there at the pump house."

  "And what did he say?"

  "He said he didn't know, since he's never been dead."

  "'Course he has," she said. "So have I – twelve hours every day, or however long the sun's up. It's boring, frankly. When Chandler called it 'the big sleep', he wasn't kidding."

  "What about the afterlife? For the truly dead, I mean. Heaven, and all that."

  "Far as I'm concerned, that's still an open question. Nobody's offered an answer that makes sense to me, so I'm not willing to take my chances just yet, if I don't have to." She pushed her chair back. "I need to jump into the shower and get dressed."

  She took a few steps toward the doorway, then stopped and turned back to me. "I know this would sound
really
weird out of context, but – thanks for making me a vampire, Daddy." She gave me a big grin, fangs and all. "And remember to get two sets of keys for those new locks."