‘The Trads,’ Alex said. ‘Just like I told you, Harry.’
Everyone turned. Slade goggled at her. ‘The who?’
‘You can’t know that for sure,’ Rumble warned her.
‘No? Let’s see.’ Alex was already heading back to his office. She snatched up the USB drive and came running back into the operations room. She inserted the drive into the computer network and tapped a few keys to divert the image to the big wall screens. ‘Harry, get the sound back up,’ she called over. ‘Everyone quiet.’
The panicky buzz died away. The assembled vampires turned back to face the screens. Even Garrett was too preoccupied to frown about the fact that Alex hadn’t called Rumble ‘sir’. For a few breathless moments, the screens were black — then they suddenly flashed up into life.
From a deep leather chair in a darkened room, a man gazed down at them. Not a man, a vampire — their instincts told them that instantly. His face was half in shadow, but visible enough to show his sleek, aquiline good looks, the thick black hair swept back from his high brow, and the wry, mischievous twinkle in his eye. He seemed to watch them for a moment; a smile crossed his lips as though he were savouring what he was about to say.
‘Good morning, VIA.’ His voice was smooth and soft. ‘None of you know me, but I know you all very well. Chief Harry Rumble. Special Agent Bishop. We have never met. But I’m sure we will — soon. Allow me to introduce myself. I have gone by many names in my time. The one by which I am presently known is Gabriel Stone.’
Rumble snapped his fingers at Kelby, who nodded and ran to a computer terminal.
The face on the screen smiled. ‘Rumble, call off your minion. It is pointless to search for me on your database. Your so-called Federation has no record of my existence.’
‘Shit, can he see us?’ Minto gaped.
‘He can’t see us,’ Alex said. ‘He’s just smart. He knows exactly how we think.’
‘You gotta love this guy,’ Slade muttered, and Minto jabbed him in the ribs.
Around the room, vampires exchanged nervous glances.
‘Is he kidding us?’
‘Does he look like he’s kidding?’
‘Quiet, people,’ Rumble commanded.
‘By now,’ Stone continued after a dramatic pause, ‘I’m sure you will all have become aware of the tragedy that has befallen the establishment in Italy where you manufacture your obscene poisons. And I am sure you have all been wondering whose hand it was that has struck you this blow. Look no further. It was I. I am now in possession of your loathsome stockpiles of drugs, and, I believe, some hundred thousand rounds of the ammunition that your treacherous Federation authorises you to use against your own kind.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘The disgrace that is VIA ends here. Know that I will destroy you. All of you. You are traitors to the vampire race, and your time is over.’
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Joel had gone into the office early that morning to run a trace on the registration number of the McLaren F11. After more than an hour’s worth of triple and quadruple checking, he’d had to give up. There was no record of the car anywhere.
He was heading out of the door when the phone rang on his desk.
‘Joel, it’s Sam.’ Carter sounded serious. ‘Have you heard yet?’
‘Heard what?’
‘Then you haven’t. They found another body this morning, early. Oxford centre, right under the Bridge of Sighs. It was ex…it was like the other one.’
‘Exsanguinated?’
‘Dry as a witch’s tit. Poor bugger. Some postgrad maths boffin by the name of Mickey Thompson. First we thought he’d been chucked off the bridge. Broken glass everywhere. But there aren’t any lacerations on him, except for where his neck’s been ripped open. And if he’d fallen he’d have a few fractures. Just talked to Jack Briar. Zilch.
So maybe the crazy bastard who did this was the one who jumped off the bridge. Must have smashed himself up a bit. Nobody could take a leap like that and not get hurt.’
‘Any blood at the scene?’
‘Just the victim’s. We’re checking all the casualty departments now in case this nutter turned up there. Anyway, it’s official. We’re looking for a serial murderer, and a right maniac to boot. Thought I should fill you in.’
Joel grabbed a squad car and headed out to the JR. Dec Maddon was sitting glumly in the hospital foyer.
‘What happened to the sling?’ Joel asked, noticing it was gone.
‘Junked it.’
‘The doctor say that was okay to do?’
‘Fuck the doctor,’ Dec said. ‘I’ve got the name of the house. I kept thinking about those birds. Crows. That’s what made me remember. It’s Crow-something house, manor, something like that.’
‘Then let’s go.’
Joel let Dec sit with his work laptop as they drove. If Sam Carter could see me, he thought. Letting a kid on a drugs charge get his hands on the police databases.
‘Got it,’ Dec said triumphantly, tapping keys. ‘Crowmoor Hall. Just a couple of miles out of Henley.’
Joel nodded and put his foot down.
As the countryside flashed by, few words passed between them and there was no mention at all of vampires. But it was the things left unspoken that screamed out, filling the space around them as they drove, bonding them into a tenuous alliance. They were like two co-conspirators, each just as uneasy as the other. Joel focused on his driving, speeding the police car down the country lanes.
‘There’s where I crashed the VW,’ Dec said, pointing at the tight bend up ahead.
The verge was ploughed up, a fence flattened, and the trunk of a big sycamore tree badly scarred from the impact. ‘We’re close. Any minute now we should see the pub I passed. There it is. Everything looks different in the daytime.’
After a few more miles, the road narrowed into a twisty and winding lane, overhung with branches, slippery with decaying leaf matter. The high wall of the stately home seemed to go on forever, before the wrought iron gates eventually came into view.
‘There, see?’ Dec pointed up at the stone birds perched on the gateposts. Even in daylight, they looked sinister.
Joel was about to park up at the roadside when the gates suddenly whirred open to let them in. They looked at each other.
‘They’re expecting visitors?’ Dec said.
‘They’re obviously expecting someone.’ Joel drove the car through.
Dec was frowning as they headed up the gravel drive between the trees. ‘The vampires have to have someone working for them. They can’t come out during the day.’ He turned worriedly to Joel. ‘Can they?’
‘Let’s just take this one step at a time, Dec,’ Joel said. He noticed the kid was trembling.
The driveway straightened and widened out into a great circular forecourt. The grand house stood before them, all gothic towers and chimney stacks and angled roofs.
The stonework was mossy and stained dark in places; here and there was a broken window, damaged guttering, loose slates. The main entrance was built in classical style, with columns and a broad flight of steps leading up to the grand doorway. Leaves littered the steps, and the sculpted angels framing the entrance were pitted with age.
A tall, gaunt, bald-headed man stood at the top of the steps, watching the car closely as it pulled up and studying them with a curious and thoughtful expression.
