Part 14 (1/2)

'Let me in,' she snarled. 'I'm hungry!'

Carter pushed by her to lunge at the hand that he knew would be crammed with rich, red blood. He snapped those gold-tipped teeth at his victim. Raj was just that bit faster. Carter's teeth clamped on the door frame and ripped away a foot-long splinter.

April saw her next move. It'd take only a moment. Push open the door, pin Raj against the wall then take her time to chew on that delicious wrist of his. She could open a vein then suck the goodness from his body. With all her heart she yearned to feel how she did just an hour ago when she blazed with euphoria; that was a precious time; she wanted to feel that way again when she fell in love with the whole wide world.

April pushed at the door to open it. Silvery links snapped taut in front of her eyes. A chain? Why a chain? Already the hunger was so intense she couldn't understand that Raj had automatically slipped on the security chain before opening the door. Now it was the only thing that stood between him and his destruction. Carter beat at the door, too. He wanted in. He craved the editor's blood. Their attempts to break down the door were thwarted when Raj managed to slam it shut. Bolts snapped home.

Raj was shouting, 'Try and keep calm, April. Something's happened to you. I'm calling the policea'

'Carter,' she snapped. 'Break a window. We've got to get in there. Carter?'

Her companion had raced from the garden. She saw that he chased after a drunken man - a lovely well-built man - who was tottering along beneath the blaze of street lights. She started running in that direction too, fearful that she might lose her share of nature's riches.

TWENTY.

At five minutes past two that sultry morning Trajan walked beside Ben as they left the taxi that had carried them from where they'd talked to the graffiti artist.

'If the man was mad,' Trajan said, 'why should we make too much about this Vampire Sharkz business?'

'Mr Akinedes isn't mad. He suffers from Obsessive Compulsion Disorder; that means he completely understands his compulsions are irrational, only he has no power over them.'

They turned off the main road into a park that ran beside the Thames. Nearby, the formidable square structures of Tower Bridge rose into the night sky where they gleamed in the floodlights. Beyond them, the thousands of lights of London still burned brightly even at this hour.

In the gloom Trajan's head appeared as a bobbing smudge of blond as he asked, 'Then did he mean there's a dangerous animal in the river; perhaps something that's escaped from a zoo? Did that attack April?'

'Don't have me speculating yet, Trajan. I want to compare Mr Akinedes' story, irrespective of how bizarre it sounds, with what Elmo Kigoma knows.'

'The man in the boat? If he's still here. The last I heard the Mayor had plans to evict him from the park.'

'Oh, he's still here. Elmo's built from tough stuff.'

Elmo Kigoma was, indeed, still in the riverside park but he was no longer alone. Ben groaned at what he saw. 'd.a.m.na' There, in the muted gleam of street lights s.h.i.+ning from the road, were a group of at least ten figures. They'd cl.u.s.tered around the boat that appeared to float above ground, the pole that supported it rendered invisible by the shadows.

'The guy's got trouble this time.' Ben moved faster.

'Wait!' Trajan caught his arm. 'Wouldn't it be better to call the police?'

Ben fished out his phone. 'If it turns nasty - I mean really nasty - call the cops; but only as a last resort. If they come roaring down here we won't get a chance to talk to Elmo alone. And stay here; you've already cracked your skull once this week.'

After pus.h.i.+ng the phone into Trajan's hand he ran toward the aerial boat. By now, the group of men had begun to push at the vessel's pole. They were clearly trying to topple it. The tiny plywood craft swung back and forth as if tossed on a stormy sea. A silhouette of a figure hung on tight to the mast of the boat.

These are stupid odds, Ben told himself as he ran along the path. One against ten? They've been drinking, too, so it's going to be tough reasoning with them.

The men chanted, 'Out the boat! Out the boat!'

'Give someone else a turn, y'old b.a.s.t.a.r.d!'

Their laughter was s.a.d.i.s.tic; they'd worked themselves up an appet.i.te for hurting someone.

'Come down here, y'w.a.n.ker - y'can kiss my a.r.s.e.' One of the men bared his backside at the hermit in his boat.

'Dirty little b.u.g.g.e.r. Where do y'go to the toilet? Bet y'do it over the side.'

'Yeah, right where kids are.'

'Filthy pervert.'

'Get down herea gonna get the hiding of your life!'

Ben stopped a few paces from them. 'Excuse me. Gents?'

A guy with a tattooed line around his throat with the words 'Cut Here' etched in the skin turned on him. 'f.u.c.k off.'

Ben took a deep breath, 'I need to speak to Mr Kigoma. It's important.'

'Y'hear that?' one of the men slurred. 'These two lovebirds want to be alone.' Pure sadism made the thug's laughter harsh.

'It's all right, sir. I'm safe,' Elmo called down. 'Please go home.'

'Yeah, go home,' the men chorused.

'Mr Kigoma. I'm Ben Ashton. We spoke recently.'

The thugs shook the pole, making the boat flip from side-to-side. Ben saw it wouldn't be long before the old man was twitched from his vessel. 'Look, stop that,' Ben said angrily. 'You're going to hurt him.'

The man with the tattooed 'Cut Here' throat calmly punched Ben on the jaw. Ben had no intentions of falling down, but his legs appeared to have no communication with his brain. As they folded under him he slapped down on to the gra.s.s with enough force to knock the air from his lungs.

'Down in one! Down in one!' the guy chanted while his buddies cheered his skill.

What had been a numb feeling in Ben's mouth suddenly made way for a whole head full of pain. Any plans he had for standing were forgotten, although he managed to sit as Trajan appeared.

'Do you want it as well?' snarled Ben's attacker. 'Do you?' He swung his fist at Trajan and Ben remembered the guy's head wound only too clearly. A hard punch would kill him.

Trajan side-stepped neatly, then dealt a couple of rapid jabbing punches to the man's stomach that suggested pretty forcefully that he had martial arts training. The tattooed guy didn't fall but he backed away holding his stomach. Ben forced himself to his feet. The odds were still one-sided. They faced a beating. Nevertheless, Ben knew he must stand by Trajan.

The men's faces were ugly with aggression and drink. They shook their fists, and stuck out their chests to make themselves more intimidating.

Ben groaned. 'It looks like you backed the wrong side.'

Trajan wasn't a man for running. He held out his arm for Ben to stay back. 'Give me room to work,' he said.

'You can't fight them,' Ben countered.