The Vampire Murders: 13/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"There was a legend," Henderson said. "I doubt it can have anything to do with this case, but I'd like to know, just for my own satisfaction."
"What kind of legend?"
Henderson shook his head. "I'll let you know after I talk to the expert," he said. "Let's go on."
"It's right through there," Clark said, pointing his light at the entrance to the end chamber. He moved ahead, ducking somewhat to avoid the low roof. Henderson followed, and Lois trailed behind.
And suddenly the men stopped. Lois nearly ran into Henderson. "Hey!"
"That's odd," Clark said.
"What is?" Lois asked.
"We left the lid closed," Clark said. "Now it's open."
**********
And now, Part 13:
Lois poked Clark sharply in the back and instantly regretted it. She tended to forget it, but her partner was heavily muscled -- something she should keep in mind, she reflected, rubbing the offended digit. The build that he had displayed that day she saw him in a towel at the Apollo Hotel hadn't been acquired in typing class. Clark almost certainly lifted weights and did other exercises at a gym or something, since that kind of muscle didn't develop on its own. "Mind letting me take a look?" she inquired with the faintest edge to her voice.
"Sorry." Clark quickly moved aside, training his light on the rough wooden casket. The lid, Lois saw, rested on the rough stone floor, leaning askew against the side of the casket. Lois moved forward and peered into the interior.
In the darkness, it was difficult to see anything. "Clark, can you shine your light in here a minute?"
"Sure." Her partner obediently flashed his light into the casket. Lois leaned forward, examining the wrinkled cloth that covered the bottom. At one end the cloth was stained with some brown, crusted streaks. She eyed them thoughtfully, but refused to speculate on what they might be. Instead, she stood back, looking at the lid, leaning carelessly against the body of the casket. Who had opened it? Had one of the workers in this tunnel, or one of the smugglers, perhaps, decided to investigate the tunnel accessed by the small slide? Maybe someone had found the place and opened the casket out of sheer curiosity. The fact that it was empty might have any number of explanations, but a vampire was definitely not one of them. Probably there had never been a body. For some reason the thing had probably been left empty. Who knew what strange customs the original inhabitants of New Troy had followed, after all? Maybe there was something symbolic about "the Sleeper" that the writing on the tapestry above the casket talked about.
"Well," she said, keeping her voice low, "do you suppose that whoever was in the tunnel is gone?" She pulled her jacket a little more tightly around her body. "I'd like to get out of this place."
The men looked at each other and Henderson nodded. "I have to agree with you," he said. "Let's go see if the way is clear."
**********
When they reached the exit, both Clark and Henderson switched off their lights, and the three approached the opening with caution. Lois felt her way in her larger partner's wake and bumped into him in the dark when he stopped.
"Sorry," she whispered.
Together, they waited in the pitch darkness, listening.
"I don't hear anything," Clark's voice whispered at last.
"Come on." Henderson's light came on, shielded by his fingers to allow only the tiniest beam of light to escape. One after another, they crawled through the hole into the main tunnel. Henderson turned toward the jog in the tunnel, treading very softly. Clark and Lois followed.
Just beyond the bend, of course, was the ladder. Clark moved quickly past Lois and Henderson and beat them both to it. Lois blinked in surprise. He set his foot on the first rung and began to climb. Henderson paused for an instant, as if a little surprised as well, and then followed. Lois found herself hugging Henderson's heels.
Above, Clark's shadow reached the trap door. He looked down, his glasses reflecting the faint light of Henderson's shrouded flashlight. "Shh. Turn that off. If there's anyone up there, I don't want to notify them we're here."
The light went off. Lois waited, straining her ears.
There was the faintest of scraping sounds, a tiny, unidentified snapping sound, and then grey light began to leak into the tunnel. Gradually, Clark lifted the trap door, allowing the light to grow a little stronger, but Lois could hear no more sounds. Then, Clark's silhouette moved upward, no more than a blotch of darker shadow against the rectangle of lighter darkness beyond the opening. She heard and felt Henderson move after him and climbed carefully in the detective's wake, striving to be absolutely silent.
Clark's hand caught hers as she reached for the edge of the door and helped boost her through the aperture. "Shh," he whispered, his voice a thread of sound. "There's somebody out there."
Lois peeked out of the alcove but saw only the darkened room with its un-curtained window that opened on the beach. "I don't see anyone."
"Someone's moving around in the next room."
Lois strained her ears, trying to hear what her partner had already detected. Beside her, Henderson was completely still, even to the point of holding his breath, she realized. Beyond the window the picturesque wooden pier extending out into the choppy grey water of the bay, and the sandy beach itself with the filtered moonlight reflecting off the sand, was strangely blurry, and she realized with slight dismay that it was snowing again, fairly heavily. That figured. Maybe they could go back to the car through the tunnel instead of walking the distance, she thought fleetingly. It looked very cold and miserable out there.
There was the scrape of very soft footsteps on wood, bringing her attention sharply back to the business at hand. How Clark had heard those faint sounds, she couldn't imagine. It must be that amazing hearing that he had demonstrated now and then. He'd explained once that growing up in the country had not exposed him to the unending noise of the city, and so his hearing hadn't changed much from the way it had been when he had been a child. Whatever the reason, he had the disconcerting ability to pick up the tiniest of noises.
"This way," Clark said. "Quick."
He moved in utter silence across the room, opened a door on the opposite side that Lois hadn't even noticed, and stepped within. Henderson and Lois joined him at once, cramming their bodies tightly together in the small space, and Clark pulled the door closed, holding it open no more than an inch. Lois plastered her ear against the tiny opening.
It was less than a minute later that a man entered the room, followed by a second, carrying a flashlight. Lois could see the beam as it flashed about the floor and walls. She hoped the two wouldn't notice the fact that the closet door was slightly ajar, but it was too late to close it now.
"Turn off that light, idiot," the first man whispered sharply, over his shoulder. "This house is supposed to be empty!"
The light went off. "I can't see!" the second man whispered.
"Eat more carrots," the first man said, and Lois could hear the sarcasm dripping from the whisper. "Come on! We need to get back to the boat or they'll leave us behind."
Boat? There was a boat?
Of course there had to be, she realized at once and kicked herself figuratively for not realizing it earlier. If these people were smuggling in something, where else was it going to come from?
There was silence for a moment and then the front door opened and closed softly. Lois let out her breath.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered. "There's a smuggling boat!"
Henderson switched on his light. "Where would somebody hide a boat around here?"
They looked at each other in the illumination of the flashlight.
"Wilson's Cove," Clark said. "It's only a little north of here, and there's half a dozen inlets at least that somebody could run a small boat into and not have it seen because of the water plants and stuff."
Of course, Lois thought. Wilson's Cove was ten square miles of land that had been set aside some fifteen years previously as a sea-life and waterfowl refuge. There had been a massive cleanup of a neglected area of the coastline, and it would be a perfect place for their smugglers to conceal a smuggling craft.
"Let's go!" Lois said.
"Are you out of your mind, Lane?" Henderson said. "It's dark as pitch out there, not to mention there's four inches of snow on the ground, with more coming down, and this boat could be in any one of the inlets."
"You're just going to let them get away?" Lois demanded.
"This time, yes. The merchandise has apparently already wound up in Cost Mart anyhow. What would I charge them with, if there's no evidence? And if they see us, we tip them off that we know about their game. I'm going to come back tomorrow, with a team, and see what I can find. Then, the next time, we can be waiting for them." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Trust me. I have no intention of letting this lot get away, but I need to find out more before I move." He held her eyes steadily for several seconds. "They'll be back. We've been investigating this case for months. We'll get them, Lois."
"Do we get an exclusive?" Lois demanded.
Henderson chuckled mordantly. "Why doesn't that question surprise me? You have my word."
**********
Henderson pulled his car up to the curb in front of Clark Kent's apartment. The Inspector didn't cut the engine, but he gave Clark the faintest of smiles. "I hate to admit that the two of you have gotten farther than the Department has, but I will. Thanks, Kent. You'll be hearing from me."
"Thanks, Henderson." Clark opened the door and smiled at Lois. "See you at work tomorrow, partner."
Lois nodded. "Lock your door," she instructed, surprising herself.
Clark nodded soberly. "I will," he said. "There's too many unexplained pieces to this puzzle to take stupid chances." He looked back at Henderson. "Make sure she's safe inside before you drive off."
Henderson smiled grimly. "Count on it," he said briefly.
Clark opened the door and got out. Henderson kept his car idling by the curb until Lois saw Clark open his door, enter, and close it behind him.
The snow had lightened again, but it definitely hadn't stopped. Henderson turned up his windshield wipers before pulling out onto the street again. The blades swooshed the ice crusts away, clearing the windshield somewhat, although tiny flakes coated it again almost instantly. "This has probably been one of the most -- interesting evenings of my life," the Inspector remarked. "Tell me you and Kent don't do this kind of thing often."
Lois shook her head smiling a little. "I have to admit this has been a pretty weird day," she said, "but we've done stranger things."
Henderson gave a bark of laughter. "I don't think I want to know what they were. I want you to promise me you'll lock your doors and windows once you're inside your place, Lane. Like Kent said, there's too many unexplained parts to this situation to take chances. Not to mention, we've still got six bodies drained of blood, and a mysterious employee of Cost Mart, that turned up very conveniently, to rescue you. If he knows who you are, he can find out where you live pretty easily. He may be a good guy, but until we know for sure, don't take any chances. Or am I talking to myself?"
Lois suppressed the tiniest of chills that tried to tingle its way across her scalp. "Not this time."
"Good." Henderson swung his car around the corner, drove down half the block and pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street, coming to a stop at the curb in front of her apartment. He cut the engine. "Here we are. He opened his door. "Come on."
"Where are you going?" she asked in surprise.
"I'm walking you to your door, just to be on the safe side. You can bet Brunner's bosses know you were sneaking around in the back of the store, and that he locked you in that room. They know you're suspicious of them, and you know what happened to my men. I don't want to find your body drained of blood lying around somewhere." She couldn't read his expression, but something told her that arguing with him would be futile. She opened her door and got out, locking it behind her.
Henderson closed and locked his door as well. In silence, they ascended the steps to her apartment house, and Henderson waited while she used her tenant's key to open the door, and then followed her inside.
"You men," Lois said, a little crossly. "I'm not a helpless female, you know."
"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Henderson admitted. "Humor me, all right?"
"Hmmph!" Lois didn't argue further and secretly was a little relieved that he had insisted on going with her, but admitting it was another story. They arrived at the elevator in silence and Lois punched the call button.
She heard the familiar clunk and squeak as the elevator went reluctantly into action, and a moment later the doors opened. She boarded, followed by Henderson. She glanced at her watch. "It's nearly three in the morning."
"Time flies when you're having fun," Henderson replied. He punched the button for the fifth floor.
"Yeah, I guess," Lois said. The elevator lurched into action and rumbled slowly upward. After an interminable time, it came to a stop on the fifth floor with a wheeze of exhaustion and the doors moved reluctantly open.
The apartment house was completely silent as they stepped out into the hall, except for the faint throb of the furnace that kept the interior at a temperature somewhat higher than the outer air. The thin, ancient carpet of the hallway did little to muffle their footsteps as they made their way toward apartment 501. Lois fumbled in her bag for her keys.
Standing outside the door as she unlocked her numerous locks one by one, Lois became aware of an icy draft, coming from beneath her door. She glanced down, but could see nothing.
Henderson must have been more alert than she realized. He looked sharply at her. "What?"
"There's cold air coming from under my door, but the heater was on when Clark and I left, earlier."
Henderson moved to one side of the door, drew his .38 and shoved her unceremoniously behind him. Very cautiously, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.
Pitch blackness met their gaze. Henderson didn't take his eyes from the dark aperture, nor did he move. "Did you leave the lights off when you left?"
She shook her head, aware that her heart had begun to thump uncomfortably hard in her chest. Henderson reached into his pocket and produced his flashlight. Very cautiously, he thrust it past the doorframe and switched it on.
The room appeared to be empty, but the Inspector seemed in no hurry to enter. Lois strained her ears, trying to hear any sound, but outside of the swish of warm air through the vent behind her, there was nothing.
Except that the apartment was icy cold.
"Maybe there's a window open," she suggested.
"Did you leave any windows open?"
"One of the living room windows was unlocked," she said. "It wasn't open, though. It opens on the side of the apartment house."
Henderson flashed his light cautiously around the room. Nothing moved. Very slowly, he reached around the door to flip on the lights.
Nothing happened. "Lights are out," he said shortly. He still appeared to be in no hurry to enter. Again, he flashed the light around. "Stay here."
Lois nodded. Henderson moved forward with unexpected speed, his feet almost silent on the thin carpet. He ducked around the door quickly, minimizing the instant where he was silhouetted against the lighter hall.
Nothing happened. Lois waited for what seemed hours. "Can I come in?" she asked finally.
"Stay there," Henderson's voice said.
Time seemed to stretch interminably. "The window's wide open," Henderson's voice said suddenly. "Someone's been here."
"Can I come in?" Lois asked again.
"Come in and close the door, but stay next to it." Henderson's voice sounded a little less grim. "Whoever was here is gone."
Lois obeyed with uncharacteristic meekness. Henderson exited her bedroom back into the living room. "I think you'd better pack up a change of clothes and check in to a motel tonight," he said. "I'm going to call the Precinct and bring in a couple of men to check this place over."
Outside the open window, something moved. Lois couldn't contain a gasp of shock, and Henderson spun, his .38 lifting.
A dark shadow floated there, and out of it peered a white face, glaring in at them. It came through the window in a blast of cold air.
A man in a dark, form-fitting overcoat, a narrow, pale face with dark, piercing eyes, a head of thick, black hair, and a thin-lipped mouth. The mouth opened, baring white teeth, and revealing elongated canines.
Henderson raised his weapon. "Freeze!"
The teeth flashed in a feral grin, and the creature moved toward them.
Henderson's snubnose spoke sharply, twice. Two holes appeared in the overcoat right over the heart.
The intruder must have felt the impact of the bullets, for he jerked sharply, but he didn't fall. His lips peeled back, giving them a clear view of the fangs, and he stepped forward again, toward Lois.
Lois moved almost instinctively. She ripped open her jacket, reached down the neck of the knitted sweater that she wore under it and encountered her grandmother's gift. She yanked it out, snapping the slender chain, and held up the tiny, silver cross, gleaming in the grey moonlight filtering through the window.
The man fell back with a snarl. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, and then suddenly, he was gone through the window, and had vanished.
Henderson and Lois stared at each other for an instant, and then Henderson rushed to the window to peer out.
Lois sank down in the nearest chair, her legs literally unable to hold her upright. "Where did he go? Do you see him?"
Henderson pulled his head back inside. "No. Too dark, and too much snow." He looked at his .38. "I don't believe in vampires," he said firmly. "I'm a cop. Vampires don't exist." He glanced at Lois. "Are you all right?"
She nodded shakily.
"Good. Come on. You're not staying here tonight."
"Can you take me back to Clark's?" she whispered.
"Yeah. Grab some night gear, and let's go." Henderson looked again at the .38 and then examined the floor where the apparent vampire had stood. "No blood. I don't know what that was, but it wasn't a vampire."
"Are you sure?" Lois whispered. Somehow whispering seemed to be appropriate for the situation.
"I'm sure," Henderson said firmly. "And I'm going to prove it."
**********
tbc
