99 Coffins: A Historical Vampire Tale

attempt to hide it.” The computer was in sleep mode. When she tapped the space bar the screen lit up right away. It displayed the client for Montrose’s student webmail account, with a message already opened:

Subject:

A Humble Request for Aid

From:

John Geistdoerfer

To:

Jeffrey Montrose

Priority:

Normal

My dear Montrose:

I’m afraid it’s come to the worst. The police are going to seal off the site, well, we should have expected that. I believe you met Trooper Caxton. She’s on her way just now to come interrogate me. Rubber hoses and the third degree. I think I’m man enough to take it, but what might be worse…Jeff, they’re going to seize the coffins and other artifacts and I doubt we’ll ever see them again. I know you share my passion for this find and I’d like to ask for your help.

What I have in mind may not be strictly adherent to the letter of the law. Don’t worry. I’ll take all responsibility, and pay whatever silly fine they want, if it comes to that. You will remember we discussed moving the coffins to a place where they could be better looked after. I’d like you to take the department van and start doing that today. Don’t tell anyone what you’re up to, though of course if you’re stopped en route don’t lie for my sake, either. Do it soon, Jeff, if you can.

I see big things for you, son, big things indeed. I see your name just below mine on the paper when we describe this find. There are times when the petty temporal concerns of we mortals must bow to the needs of history—I think in you I have found someone who shares that belief. You have my eternal thanks.

—John

62.

Hiram Morse had done his duty, according to general orders. When we first met resistance to our picket he had run back to the line as fast as he was able, & summoned aid, & much of it. He had brought the whole of the 3rd Maine with him, some twelve score men, & Colonel Lakeman at the front with his sword in the air. They carried lanterns through the wood to light their way, & it seemed like great fires moved through the trees there were so many. They made short work of Chess. The men got a length of rope around his neck, & hanged him from the tallest tree in his own yard, & settled in to watch him struggle & try to break free.

Eventually he seemed to realize the futility of his efforts & he let his body slacken on the line, yet still he did not die. It was during this part of his destruction that I asked to look on him, the creature who’d so utterly corrupted my Bill. It was allowed, & I was brought close, & looked in his red eyes. I had thought to spit on him, but when I saw the expression & great intelligence in his face I banked my wrath. For a good minute I did naught but look on him, & he on me. In the end I could muster up not enough hate to curse him.

He lingered long through the night & up until the dawn, when the light of day touched him like the finger of God. Then his flesh melted away like candle wax, & his naked bones fell from the noose.

They made me a stretcher, for I could walk no longer, and carried me hence.

—THE STATEMENT OFALVAGRIEST

63.

Vicente read the message over a couple of times, just as Caxton had before him. While she waited she wondered about Montrose. The day and night before, the student had taken on a truly gruesome task.

Alone, unaided, he had moved ninety-nine coffins to a new location. She supposed that if you were studying to be an archaeologist you learned how to handle bones and not be creeped out by them. Still. It must have taken him all day. It must have left him exhausted.

Then he’d come home after all that hard and dirty work and put on his cape, the one he wore when he led his ghost tours. He had prepared his stake and sat down to wait and see what happened. He must have been so confused—wanting, desperately, to actually meet a real vampire in the flesh. Terrified because he knew he probably wouldn’t survive the encounter. She wondered what the two of them had talked about. She wondered if Montrose had, in the end, learned what he so badly wanted to know.

When the chief finished reading he looked down at the body again. He seemed to have recovered from his squeamishness. “I don’t get this. He helped the vampire. Why did it kill him?”

“Because Montrose could have told us where the coffins are. You’ll notice Geistdoerfer was careful enough not to give the location away in his email. Montrose here would be the only living person who knew it.”

“We need to find those coffins,” Vicente said. “We need to find them before dark.”

Caxton nodded. That was about half of what she’d wanted him to say. About half of what she’d wanted to get by bringing him down here and making him look at Montrose’s corpse. The other half would take some more finesse.

She lead Vicente out of the murder scene, down the stairs again and out onto the sidewalk. While they’d been inside the rain had turned serious. Glauer stood at attention by the chief ’s car, the brim of his hat completely soaked.

“Officer, I want you to organize a house-by-house search,” Vicente said, his face perfectly impassive. “I want you to bring in every man and woman we can get, have them check every possible place someone might hide all those coffins.”

“Yes, sir,” Glauer said, but he didn’t move at once. Caxton had already rehearsed him in his part of the drama that came next. “I think we can get about thirty people together, each of them with a vehicle. We’ll get right to it. There are hundreds of places like that in and around the borough. We’ll do what we can.”

“I sincerely hope so,” Vicente spluttered. “Do you know what’s at risk here?”

Glauer stood stock-still and said nothing. After a long, tense silence, he turned and looked across at Caxton.

Vicente broke the silence. “What is this? What aren’t you telling me?”

“This scene is considerably more violent than others we’ve seen from this vampire,” she said. She had thought, once, that this vampire was different. That he had some sense of honor or decency. Arkeley had known better—she should have listened to him. She should have known it herself all along. “I’m willing to call it a pattern. He started by wounding Geistdoerfer. He could have killed him then and there, but he had enough restraint to hold back. He moved up to provoked homicide with Officer Garrity, who tried to kill him. He then killed Geistdoerfer because he was hungry. The family from New Jersey,” she said, pointing in the direction of the alley and the death car, “he did because he was in a hurry. From there he went directly to this house. Montrose was actively helping him. He spent his whole life wanting to be a vampire’s best friend. The vampire killed him just because he knew where the coffins were—just to tie up one simple loose end. Human life has lost all meaning to this vampire, Chief. He’s become a real sociopath now, capable of acting in cold blood. He’s getting nastier and he’s not done yet.”

Vicente’s face was already pale. He turned to look away, up the rainy street. He wasn’t looking at her.

She moved around him, got right in his face. This was the dangerous part of the game, the part where she had to rely on him being a reasonable man. “Originally, he didn’t want to wake the others. He wanted to let them rest in peace. That was before he started to change. I think he’s more than capable now of bringing them all back. He won’t just wake up one or two of them—he’ll wake them all.”

“Pure conjecture,” Vicente said in a weak voice.

“Maybe so, but that’s what we have to go on.” Time to drive her point home. “Chief,” Caxton said, “I’d like to make a recommendation, if you’ll listen to it.”

Vicente scowled, but when he’d stared at her for a while he eventually nodded.

“You should completely evacuate the town.”