“Mike, it's Houseman.”
“Oh, shit,” he said, only half kidding. “What's up?”
“We had a suicide call this morning. Lamar's niece, Edie Younger, remember her?”
“Oh, sure. Oh, that's too bad. She was getting her act together pretty well, wasn't she?”
“I think so. There's a complication, and we're probably going to need some legal advice.”
Silence.
“Dr. Peters is here. His preliminary finding is that it looks like murder.”
“Oh, crap. Oh, boy. Uh, Carl, it's my sister-in-law's birthday today, and we're just heading to Dubuque… ”
“Okay,” I said. “Just wanted you to know, and let you know we're going to need to search the whole house. I think we have enough to justify a warranted search.”
“Which 'whole house' are you talking about, Carl?”
I told him about the location, and the other residents. I also told him that the owner wasn't there.
“Look, why don't you just go with a consent search, for now, if you can. I mean, I trust your work, but I'd be happier if you could go that route for now.”
I was positive I could get a search warrant application done well enough to stand any challenge, but I also knew that he was going to have to defend it if anything went wrong.
“Okay, Mike. But I just hate to do the consent searches, you know. I mean, if they deny permission, then we have to sit on everything and do a rush application. And in this one, any of the five can say 'no' to a request.”
“No,” he said, “go for a consent search. Any of them can consent to the common areas of the home. Individuals can only deny access to their own rooms.”
I knew him well enough to stop arguing. But I was disgusted. There are a multitude of ways to get the results of a consent search tossed out of court, and the resulting evidence right along with them. In a really serious case, there is absolutely no substitute for a warranted search issued from the district court. Besides, consent was the lazy way. The way you'd proceed if you wanted to go to your sister-in-law's party in Dubuque.
Hester could sense something amiss as I sat down.
“What?”
“Mike wants us to go with a halfassed consent search,” I said.
“That's no good, unless we're really lucky.”
“Tell me.” I shrugged. “I'm thinking in terms of a search warrant application, anyway.”
“Will the county attorney be up?”
“No, he's going to a party in Dubuque.” We both smiled at the same time. This was going to be a really fast case of “Do you mind if we search this property that is under your control?” I figured we could have an application in two or three hours, max, and be back in the house within four. If…
“Dr. Peters?”
“Yes?” He knew what was coming.
“We might need some preliminary notes, before you leave… ”
Just then, this strange dude walked up to our table. He was dressed plainly, in olive slacks and a flannel shirt. I didn't know him from Adam, and it didn't appear that either Hester or Dr. Peters did, either.
“Excuse me,” he said politely. “Would any of you be Deputy Houseman?”
“I would. And you are…?”
“William Chester. I spoke with your sheriff earlier today, very briefly. May I have a minute of your time?” He handed me a business card, which proclaimed him to be William Francis Chester, MA, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Along with his post office box, phone number, and e-mail address was the title Anthropologist amp; Bioarchaeologist.
Well, at least he wasn't either press or an attorney. I fished out one of my cards, and handed it back. “Yeah. The office said you'd be up this way.” And I had totally forgotten he was coming.
As I spoke, he pulled up a chair and sat. “I'll just take a moment of your time, for now,” he said. “I understand you've had a possible vampire sighting here.”
I looked at Hester, and she avoided my gaze, obviously enjoying my plight. There's something about being public servants that makes us relish coworkers having to deal with loonies.
“No, we haven't,” I said firmly.
“According to the local paper… ”
I cut him off. “It's a window peeker. That's all there is to it. Nothing more.”
“I see.” He looked at Hester and Dr. Peters for any sign of support. Two more deadpan expressions were never seen. “Your sheriff said that… ”
Right. Lamar. “That's okay, he might have been a little unclear. He, oh, lost a relative today.” I didn't want to be rude; I just wanted to be rid of him. “Sorry I couldn't be more help.”
“I hunt them, you know,” he said, looking at me. “I've been hunting one in particular for a very long time. I think this could be that one.”
“Hold it right there,” I said. “I'll say this one time. Just one. Do not hunt anything in this county that does not require a hunting license. Am I clear? If you interfere in any way with any investigation you'll be wearing orange and eating shitty food for several months.” I stared at him. “I promise.”
“Oh, I believe you,” he said with a slight smile. “Completely. But being so sensitive sort of gives the game away, doesn't it? Now I'm even more inclined to believe that you do have a vampire incident here.”
People can be pretty exasperating sometimes. It did occur to me, rather belatedly, that he might have something that Harry could use regarding the death of Randy Baumhagen. Might. It was connected to our case, after all, and that was what had brought our vampire hunter to us in the first place. All the way from Milwaukee, for God's sake.
“Well, just a second,” I said. “I know vampires don't exist, but we might have somebody who dresses up like one. Thing is, he might be involved in a case back on the Wisconsin side. Do you have a name to go with whoever you're hunting?”
“No. No, I don't. Just methods, habits. No name. Not yet.”
“What methods?”
“Well, he appears at a door or window. Asks to come in. If he's invited, he enters, and begins the seduction of his victim.”
“And, then, if he's not invited in? What, does he just stay out?”
“Oh, yes. Vampires can't come in unless they're invited.” He was serious.
Hester just couldn't resist. “What does he do to them?”
“He eventually consumes some of their blood.”
“Well, of course.” I kept a straight face. It was a vampire, after all. What did I expect?
“He experiences what they experience, when he does that. He shares with them. They tell me it's very intimate.” William Chester looked at us each in turn. “It's the pheromones. He ingests their pheromones and experiences what they feel.”
Dr. Peters snorted. “No. No, I'm afraid that doesn't work.”
“You laymen must understand… ” began William Chester.
“I'm a forensic pathologist,” said Dr. Peters.
Silence. Then the vampire hunter fished in his breast pocket and handed Dr. Peters his card. “Then you may well need this,” he said, with remarkable aplomb.
Dr. Peters, to his credit, accepted it with good grace, and put it in his pocket.
“Look,” I said, “they have a case back across the river in Conception County. You might be able to give them a hand with that. Not that it's a vampire,” I said quickly. “But check in with Investigator Harry Ullman. Tell him Deputy Houseman sent you. Tell him I think you might have something he could be interested in.” I didn't tell him to have Harry call me. Harry was going to do that, without a doubt.
“Excellent. I do have quite a depth of knowledge on the subject, by the way. I know how to… well, track them. Follow, if that's a better word.”
“Stalking is a crime,” I said. “People are pretty sensitive about that.”
“Thank you.” He stood. “If I develop anything, I'll be in touch.”
“Anytime.”
