Part 7 (2/2)
A reporter was talking into the camera now, live, explaining how the police found the bodies - a couple of teenagers had stumbled over them while they were exploring the deserted building as a dare - and when, and how the search was progressing. The reporter looked pretty stunned.
An anchorman in the studio asked the reporter a question about the bodies, to which she shook her head.
”No,” she said, ”the police aren't giving out names, and won't until the relatives of the deceased have been notified.”
”Have you learned any more about the nature of their deaths?” the anchorman asked.
”No,” the reporter replied. ”The police have blocked the flow of information.
We only have the early reports to go on. The six people - we don't know if they're men or women - appear to be victims of a serial killer or some sort of sacrificial cult. We don't know about the last two bodies brought up, but the first four all shared the same bizarre wounds and conditions.”
”Could you explain once again what those conditions were?” the anchorman asked.
The reported nodded. ”The victims - at least the first four - have slit throats, which seem to be the means by which they were killed. In addition, the bodies appear - and I must stress that this is an early, unverified report - to have been drained of all their blood.”
”Possibly sucked out or pumped dry?” the anchorman suggested.
The reporter shrugged. ”As of the moment, n.o.body can answer that, except the police.” She paused. ”And, of course, the murderer.”
Evra switched the sound off but left the picture on.
”See?” he said softly.
”Oh, no,” I gasped. I thought of Mr. Crepsley, who'd been out alone every night since we arrived, prowling the city for reasons he wouldn't reveal. I thought of the six bodies and the reporter's and anchorman's comments: ” drained of all their blood.”
”Possibly sucked out or pumped dry.”
”Mr. Crepsley,” I said. And for a long time I gazed in silence at the screen, not able to say anything more.
CHAPTER TEN.
I paced furiously around the hotel room, hands clenched into fists, swearing angrily, Evra watching mutely.
”I'm going to kill him,” I finally muttered. ”I'll wait for day, pull back the curtains, drive a stake through his heart, chop his head off, and set him on fire.”
”You don't believe in taking chances, do you?” Evra tried to joke. ”I suppose you'll scoop his brains out, too, and stuff the s.p.a.ce inside his head with garlic.”
”How can you make jokes at a time like this?” I howled. Evra hesitated. ”It might not have been him.”
”Come off it!” I barked. ”Who else could it have been?”
”I don't know.”
”The blood was sucked out of them!” I shouted.
”That's what the reporters think,” Evra said. ”They weren't certain.”
”Maybe we should wait,” I huffed. ”Wait for him to kill another five or six, huh?”
Evra sighed. ”I don't know what we should do,” he said. ”But I think we should have proof before we go after him. Chopping a person's head off is kind of final. If we find out later we were mistaken, there's no going back. We can't glue his head back on and say, 'Sorry, all a big mistake, no hard feelings.'”
He was right. Killing Mr. Crepsley without proof would be wrong. But it had to be him! Those nights out, acting so strangely, not telling us what he was doing - it all added up.
”There's something else,” Evra said. I glanced down at him. ”Let's say Mr.
Crepsley is the killer.”
”I have no problem accepting that.” I grunted.
”Why would he do it?” Evra asked. ”It's not his style. I've known him longer than you have, and I've never seen or heard of him doing anything like this. He's not a killer.”
”He probably killed when he was a Vampire General,” I said. I had told Evra about my conversation with Gavner Purl.
”Yes,” Evra agreed. ”He killed evil vampires, who deserved to be killed. What I'm saying is, if he did kill these six people, maybe they had to be killed, too.
Maybe they were vampires.”
I shook my head. ”He gave up being a Vampire General years ago.”
”Gavner Purl could have persuaded him to join again,” Evra said. ”We don't know anything about the Vampire Generals or how they work. Maybe that's why Mr. Crepsley came here.”
It sounded halfway reasonable, but I didn't believe it.
”Six evil vampires on the loose in one city?” I asked. ”What are the odds against that?”
”Who knows?” Evra said. ”Do you know how an evil vampire behaves? I don't, maybe they form gangs.”
”And Mr. Crepsley wiped them out by himself?” I said. ”Vampires are tough to kill. He'd have no problem killing six humans, but six vampires? No way.”
”Who says he was alone?” Evra asked. ”Maybe Gavner Purl was with him.
Maybe there's a bunch of Vampire Generals in town.”
”Your argument's getting weaker by the second,” I commented.
”Possibly,” Evra said, ”but that doesn't mean I'm wrong. We don't know, Darren. You can't kill Mr. Crepsley on a hunch. We have to wait. Think about it and you'll see I'm right.”
I calmed down and thought it over. ”Okay,” I sighed. ”He's innocent until proven guilty. But what should we do? Sit back and pretend nothing's happened?
Report him to the police? Ask him straight to his face?” ”If we were at the Cirque Du Freak,” Evra mused, ”we could tell Mr. Tall and leave it in his hands.”
”But we're not at the Cirque,” I reminded him.
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