99 Coffins: A Historical Vampire Tale

the form and shoved it in his pocket.

Glauer led Caxton back upstairs. He didn’t speak until they were in the parking lot. He put on a pair of mirrored sunglasses, then, and looked away, toward the road. “You’re not really a people person,” he suggested.

“I’m a cop,” she replied.

He looked almost surprised. “You think those are two different things?”

She kept her mouth shut all the way to their next stop—a meeting room at the back of a church. Chief Vicente was there waiting for them, standing at a podium with one of his patrolmen on either side of him.

They should have been out searching for the vampire’s body, she thought, but she supposed he had his reasons for doing this instead.

Vicente wanted a press conference. A half-dozen reporters from the Gettysburg Times and other papers around Adams County sat in uncomfortable-looking chairs, while a lone TV crew had set up in the corner, their cables and battery packs in a pile on the floor. They had a pair of floodlights trained on the podium and it looked pretty hot up there. Caxton lingered at the back of the room. The reporters looked back at her, ignoring the chief as he read a prepared statement.

“The state police in Harrisburg have been good enough to provide us with an expert in just this kind of crime,” Vicente said, and raised one hand to gesture at her. He wanted her to come up and say something, she realized. “I’d like to introduce you to Laura Caxton. Thank you.” He waved at her again.

She wasn’t sure whether or not to expect applause. When none came she rushed down to the podium and cleared her throat.

The lights were bright enough to blind her. She held up one hand to cover her eyes and looked out at the reporters. “I don’t have a prepared statement,” she admitted. “Are there any questions?”

One of the reporters stood up. He was wearing a dark blue blazer, but she couldn’t really see his face.

“Do you have any leads as to the vampire’s identity?” he asked.

She shook her head. That didn’t seem to suffice, so she leaned closer to the microphone and said, “No, not at this time. We’re looking into it.”

Another reporter asked, without getting up, “Can you tell us about the policeman who died last night?

Did he suffer much, or did he go peacefully?”

She felt like she was back at school. She felt like she was being quizzed. That one had to be a trick question. “I’m sorry, I can’t comment on that,” she said.

Over by the television camera a third reporter asked, “Officer Caxton, can you give us some idea of what to expect? Can you outline your plan for catching this creature and what you’re going to do to protect Gettysburg?”

“I’ve basically just got here and I haven’t had time to create an action plan. We’re still working on that —”

The reporter held up his hands in disgust. “Can’t you give us any details of your investigation at all?

What’s your best-case scenario? What should people do?”

She glanced over at Vicente. His face was very still, as if he were keeping it under perfect control. His shoulders, however, were inching upward toward his ears. He didn’t like her performance.

Well, so be it, she thought. She certainly had better things to do. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to throw him a bone, though. “Well, I can tell you that everyone should stay indoors tonight. Don’t go out for any reason, not unless it’s a true emergency. Anyone who has a place to go outside of town should do so now, before sunset. I’d urge all the tourists to cut their trips short and go home.”

Vicente smiled very broadly and started walking back toward the podium, his hands together as if he might start clapping.

The reporter wasn’t done with her, though. “Are you actually suggesting that Gettysburg should shut down its tourist industry?”

“Definitely,” she said. “We’re dealing with a vampire. They drink blood. They’ll kill anyone who gets in their way. If I could, I would evacuate the whole town.”

Even through the haze of light she could see every eye in the room go wide when she said that.

28.

I fumed in impatience. Bill had been badly hurt when I’d seen him, perhaps near death. Every minute I delayed my rescue reduced his chances of survival.

“Now ya hold your horses, Griest. That’s one virtue I’ve learnt, & it has served me well. For a long time I been runnin’ after that Reb, e’er since he sup’rised my company in the Peninsula. He slaughtered a good score of men in their sleep. I was on sentry duty that night or I would have been one of them. When you came runnin’ up I was waiting for him to ride by so I could spill his brains on his own beloved soil by way of thanks. Woulda had ’im, too, if’n I hadn’t wasted my powder on getting yer attention.”

“Who is this murderer?” I asked.

“The Ranger Simonon, & about the worst snake the Confederacy ever pulled out of a hole. He’s a sneak killer and a horse thief, of the sort they raise out Bleeding Kansas way. Father Abraham wants him dead as much as I, & by God, I’ll have it so. If I can help yer pal, I will, but not if it means missin’ another shoot.”

“I aim to go inside, at once,” I said again.

Storrow placed a hand on my shoulder & squeezed it. “There’s danger in there, y’know. Mortal danger.”

“You didn’t strike me as cowardly before,” I said.

The man would have been in his rights to strike me then. Instead he only spit on the ground and said, “I seen a thing come out of there last night I wouldn’t want to meet again. Ya know what I’m jawin’ about?”

“The vampire,” German Pete barked.

Storrow looked at the man long & hard & then nodded. “Thought it might be one.”

“Do you know aught of vampires, then?” I asked.

His shoulders raised in a shrug. “Precious little. What man does? They’re rare as honest politicians, & I thank Jesus for that. I saw one they caught & killed in Angola town, back in ’53, when I was a boy. They took & laid him out in a warehouse for the public edification. My daddy took us all in for a look, & paid a half-dime for the pleasure. Ugliest critter I ever saw, & it scared me stiff, dead as it was. This one’s still quick.”

—THE STATEMENT OFALVAGRIEST

29.

“He couldn’t get me off that podium fast enough,” Caxton said. She leaned back in the Mazda’s driver seat and rubbed at her eyes. It felt strangely good to talk to Arkeley. She’d never thought she would say that before.

Calling him had taken some courage. After she left the press conference and Glauer had taken her back to the police station, she had been left all alone in the swirling leaves of the parking lot, with no idea what to do next. Or rather, she knew exactly what needed to be done but she didn’t have time to do it. She should have been out on the streets with the other cops, searching for the vampire. She had only ten minutes, though, before she was supposed to go to her interview with Professor Geistdoerfer. She had considered getting something to eat—it was going to be a long night—but there really wasn’t time. So instead she had taken out her cell phone and called Clara, but she only got the machine.

She had screwed up, and badly. She knew that. She’d traumatized Garrity’s poor widow and outraged the local media. Vicente had been furious with her after the press conference and she still wasn’t sure why, but she knew it would be a problem. Organizing the manhunt for the vampire was going to be harder than ever.

The phone in her hand contained Arkeley’s number, she thought. If there was anybody in the world who could give her some decent advice it would be the old Fed. He had actually done this before, stood where she stood,