The Spinoza Trilogy (26 page)

I cleared my throat dramatically, gazed at a promotional poster for
The Lost Boys
on the far wall to help me focus—Corey Haim had been my hero when I was a kid—then read the article aloud:

“It is common knowledge that evil is brewing in our Pennsylvania. Folk have been disappearing across the state for the last year. Most thought it was Indians, yet there have been reports of a pale-faced demon haunting an area right before a person is discovered missing.

We all know we all got sort of a start when a pale-faced stranger turned up in our town last week, staying at Buford’s Boarding House. He called himself ‘Laumer,’ and never said whether it was his first name or last. We all kept a suspicious eye on the stranger, but he seemed harmless enough; indeed, he was very charming, though rarely seen except at night.

But when old Al Hockborough disappeared, we knew we were in the presence of evil, perhaps Satan himself. A committee was formed, addressing the issue of the stranger and what to do about him. Four of the ten in the committee, including yours truly, wanted to burn him. Sure, give him a trial, and then burn him. Al was a great guy. He didn’t deserve to die by the hands of Satan. The others in the committee, led by Ed Royce, wanted to search his residence; maybe we’d find old Al.

At Buford’s Boarding House, we confronted the stranger at noon, though he was somewhat bedraggled. He was once again all charm, and let us search his residence at will. Nothing unordinary. He expressed his extreme concern over the disappearance of Al, and that times were indeed hard enough for a traveling man without people disappearing and heaping suspicion on innocent strangers.

It was pretty much back to the drawing board, though some of us didn’t like it, especially Ed Royce. ‘Fire’ could be the only word to describe our town’s blacksmith. He really had it in for the stranger, though most of us accepted the fact that his presence was purely coincidental to the disappearing of Al.

We were not surprised then when two days later gunfire shattered the night like fine crystal in the hands of a newborn. Roused from their sleep, most folks stumbled out of their beds to find the stranger dying in the streets. Ed and his gang stood by explaining, while the stranger lay gasping in the street. “He tried to kill Edith! We caught him just in time.” That’s when Edith answered curtly, crying. “He just offered to carry my bags home!

“Then why did he attack us?” demanded Ed.

“
Maybe because you bullies cornered him with your guns.”

“
Look at Billy, Sheriff, the stranger done him in good.” And Billy was a terrible mess.

“
He also just disappeared on us,” said Hank. “When we looked again, he was behind us somehow. We shot at him,” Hank went on, “I knows I hit him a few times, and the others did, too, but he kept on running.”

“
And that’s when he ran into me,” said Ed Royce. “One shot was all I needed.” The stranger died two hours later.

The sheriff investigated further, and it was agreed it was in self-defense that the stranger had to die.

If he was an innocent man, God forgive us. And if he was the killer, may God deal with him appropriately.”

They were silent, mulling over what they had just heard. I gave them a moment to reflect before spurring them into a conclusion. “Now, Buddy, who and what was that article really talking about?”

“
A vampire, of course!”

“
Indeed. The clues are all there. But I have another question: Who is this Edward Royce, and how did he and his gang kill our vampire?”

“
The answer,” said Janice, “was the bullet. A silver bullet.”

“
Exactly!” I stepped from behind the podium and circled the room. “Fact: we have researched vampires extensively. Fact: we have read all the vampire fiction, and though usually it’s a good read, most of it should be burned. Fact: we know more about vampires than anyone else alive. Question: can a silver bullet kill a vampire?”

As expected, four hands shot up in unison. “Juan,” I said.

Juan stood. “In our studies, we have uncovered voluminous accounts of vampires. The trouble is that most vary as to the true characteristics of vampires. So what we have done, as you all know, is sort through all the slush and find similarities. We are the uncoverers of fact.

“
Simply put, we have uncovered the truths and dispelled the fallacies; and, unbeknownst to most folks, a silver bullet can wound a vampire but not kill a vampire. Our vampire is not dead.”

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About the Author:

J.R. Rain is an ex-private investigator who now writes full-time. He lives in a small house on a small island with his small dog, Sadie, who has more energy than Robin Williams.

Please visit him at
www.jrrain.com
.

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