Beyond the Blood Moon

by Vic Robbie

  Alarmed, the scientist’s eyes widened.

  ‘Did you think I wouldn’t find out that she’s the intended recipient of your research?’ The scientist’s discomfort pleased him. ‘My surveillance network provides me with information on many subjects. It’s the only way to survive. She needs regular treatment. Perhaps she should stay here with me until you’ve completed your tasks. That might expedite matters.’

  Skarab was confused and started to babble. ‘I must be honest about the drawing. There’s not much I can do…’

  Skarab appeared to forget what he was going to say, then recovered, ‘I’m a scientist, not a mystic. Whatever you get from the drawing is psychological. It’s like self-hypnosis. A sense of well-being and that brings more self-confidence. You build a rapport with Leonardo and the more you seek it, the more you believe it has powers.’

  He had lost interest and dismissed that with a wave of a manicured hand. ‘Forget the drawing for the moment. Why haven’t you traced Solo Blue?’ He waited, but receiving no answer went close up to him, intimidating the scientist, although he was a head and shoulders shorter. ‘I expect immediate results. Why the delay? If anyone should find her, it’s you. For God’s sake, man, you know how it all works.’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Can’t have this woman speaking about the drawing.’

  Lost for an answer, Skarab studied his feet.

  ‘The Praesidium wanted the drawing, believing its supernatural powers would strengthen their grip on power. I acquired it without knowing about their interest. Embarrassing, but the person responsible will not cross me again. Although several members of the Praesidium are indebted to me, if they found out I had in my possession something stolen from them, it would cause significant problems. The Praesidium want their part in this to stay secret, and even I wouldn’t survive their wrath. Solo Blue saw the drawing in my house. That’s why we must silence her before she reveals what she knows.’

  He offered a crooked smile. ‘Once you locate Solo, you must delete her.’

  ‘It’s not as straightforward as that.’ Skarab swallowed hard.

  Demanding an explanation, the eyes bored into him. ‘Tell me why?’

  Skarab explained that after their first meeting, he had returned to the office and logged in to the microchipping system. Only a handful of scientists at the Directorate of Vigilance had the same level of security access. Below them was another level who had the authority to trace anyone chipped. The StatPol had a lower grade on the same level as hospitals, railways and other utilities to check a person’s identity and record. And the State, through the Bureau of Interrogation, controlled everyone’s access to the microchipping programme.

  He and his colleagues in the top echelon could receive a signal from the chips and also transmit to them. The most severe actions involved sentences of erasure or deletion. One scientist alone was unable to trigger deletion, it had to be two working together and each with separate orders. One located the victim; the other enforced the deletion, so one wasn’t aware of the sentence, and the other was unaware of the identity.

  While he delegated all such actions, he could bypass most protocols. And accessing Solo Blue’s information had been straightforward. He’d located her whereabouts, but her signal kept disappearing.

  ‘You seem to doubt whether you can find this woman,’ he accused. ‘That’s not good enough.’

  Skarab tightened his lips as he attempted to explain. ‘There are strict procedures to protect the information and the well-being of individuals.’

  ‘Ha!’ He didn’t believe him.

  The scientist seemed offended but continued, ‘A message flashes up when you acquire someone’s serial number and the link to their identity requesting the reason for accessing the data, your planned action, and who gave permission. But I’ve been able to overcome some of those obstacles.’

  ‘Get on with it, you’re wasting my time.’

  Skarab extricated from his pocket a scanner the size of a phone. ‘It’s illegal for me to have this outside the establishment.’

  ‘Let me see it.’

  ‘No.’ He shrank back. ‘It operates only for me.’ He passed a hand over the scanner, and it glowed. He swiped it several times, and a map appeared on a screen with an arrow pinpointing her location. He blinked with concern. She was somewhere she shouldn’t be.

  ‘Well, have you got her?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ he tapped the scanner for show, ‘there’s a fault. I must return to the establishment to make adjustments. Won’t take long, but if I don’t, we’ll lose her.’

  He thought he saw a hint of fear in Skarab’s look. ‘You have an hour to locate and delete her or I must consider your mother’s future.’ He dismissed him with a wave of a hand.

  ‘Wait,’ Skarab shouted. ‘Let me experiment on the woman, and we can get what we want without consequences.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  ‘Those guys weren’t police,’ Solo said as she climbed back behind the wheel, her eyes wide and face almost whiter than before.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I saw one of them at the party. If Ottomon’s got him, he won’t be going anywhere for some time.’

  His brother and his men needed to move fast. If the scientist was the killer and didn’t have an accomplice and if Becky was alive, she might be imprisoned somewhere nearby without food or water. Whatever doubts Headlock had that Skarab was their man, they must search the area. ‘We’ve got to tear this place apart, brick by brick.’

  ‘Is Becky still here?’ she asked.

  He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and, as she drove off, sadness overwhelmed him as now for the first time he doubted he’d see his daughter again.

  ‘Stop here,’ he shouted.

  The car skidded to a halt as she hit the brakes, and he got out and peered at a sign in the moonlight.

  ‘What are you doing?’ She was perplexed. ‘We must go to the cops.’

  ‘I’m just making sure of our location.’

  ‘Where the hell are we?’

  ‘Bridgetown.’

  ‘Can’t see any town.’ She glanced around and added with faint hope. ‘Will the cops find anything?’

  To ease the tension, he ran a hand over his face. ‘Prints, anything that might identify who’s been here. Perhaps something of Becky’s.’

  She frowned. ‘Prints?’

  ‘Fingerprints.’

  ‘Don’t understand.’ She seemed bewildered as they drove off again.

  ‘When arrested, the cops take your fingerprints.’

  Still, she didn’t seem to understand. ‘If you’re chipped, why would they need fingerprints?’

  ‘Never been arrested?’

  She glanced away and shook her head. ‘Don’t intend to be.’

  ‘You can trace a person’s identity by their fingerprints.’ But while that might confirm the scientist as the killer, it wouldn’t necessarily help find Becky, and he doubted there was anything left to provide a useful lead.

  ‘Cool.’ Unconvinced, she rolled her eyes.

  Highlighted by the moonlight, he thought her profile almost aristocratic but wondered if he’d overestimated her intelligence.

  ‘Tell me, what year is it?’ he asked.

  There was anger in her answer. ‘What kind of question is that? If you don’t know, you’d better go to hospital and get yourself checked.’

  He didn’t reply, and she added, ‘Why, what year do you think it is?’

  ‘Not sure that I know. Someone told me recently that it was 1898.’

  She pursed her lips and with a sigh, looked away, and a silence settled between them. It was a couple of miles before she spoke again, ‘Will drop you at your car, and I’ll visit the man’s mother while you’re meeting your brother.’

  ‘That’s not a good idea.’ He placed a hand on her arm. ‘If he returns home, you’ll be trapped, and his mother could be an accomplice.’

  Defiance transformed her. ‘Yo
u can’t say what I can or can’t do?’

  Just trying to protect you.

  ‘Don’t need your or anyone else’s protection, thank you. Got this far in life on my own.’ Her determined smile backed up her words.

  She didn’t realise the danger she’d be putting herself in, but he raised both hands. ‘Okay, okay, so you’ve got balls, but be realistic this guy will turn nasty if he finds you in the house. That’s all I’m saying. What you do is up to you.’ But he cared more than he would admit, and that concerned him.

  ‘Okay, keep watch on the mother, but don’t approach her yet. Let me speak to the cops first.’

  An amused smile played around her lips. ‘I promise I won’t visit her until I hear from the cops,’ she agreed, ‘but they’d better be quick.’

  The stress of recent days showed in the deep grooves in the lieutenant’s face, now grey with worry, but he was relieved to see him, and they embraced for the first time since they were kids.

  ‘No news?’ Headlock asked, sitting down in his office with a plastic cup of coffee.

  The cigar in the lieutenant’s mouth moved from side to side as he replied. ‘No.’ He looked around the room for an uncomfortably long time. ‘Can’t sleep, got to keep working, keep searching. All I think of is Becky and what’s happening to her.’ He slammed a fist on the desk in frustration. ‘Can’t see beyond that. And if we find her, I’ll quit. I’ve seen too much misery and grief, too much for one lifetime, and I can’t take it anymore.’

  His brother’s show of emotion surprised him. It was something he didn’t believe him capable of, but he understood. ‘All’s not lost, I have a lead, but we’ve got to move fast.’

  There was cynicism in his brother’s eyes as he studied him but also a glimmer of hope like a drowning man thrown a lifejacket. ‘I’m grateful for your help, but I told you not to get involved. Can’t have you doing investigations of your own. That’s dangerous and will cause problems. Once we get this bastard, we want to nail him, not let him slip through the net on a technicality.’

  ‘I might know where she is.’

  The lieutenant sat bolt upright. ‘Go on.’

  He brought him up to date with recent events and explained Solo’s belief the man they followed was their attacker and the killer and Becky’s abductor. And the lieutenant listened, asking him to clarify some points.

  ‘This woman, Blue…’

  ‘Solo Blue.’

  ‘Can she be trusted? Do you believe her?’

  ‘Guess so. Don’t forget, I was there.’ The swelling on the back of his head was still painful to the touch.

  ‘Only guess?’

  ‘No, I’m sure.’

  ‘But you said the building was empty and appeared unused and there was nowhere obvious he’d be holding her.’

  ‘There’s something weird about that place. Why would he go to an empty building late at night if there was nothing there?’

  The lieutenant stayed quiet but was concentrating. ‘Maybe it’s not the building we need to search but somewhere outside.’

  ‘You mean a grave?’ And his stomach dropped.

  As the lieutenant assembled the facts, he refused to meet his stare. ‘Go through that again about the woman, the scientist’s mother?’

  His brother listened without interruption before taking the cigar out of his mouth and chucking it at a waste bin and missing. ‘What’s your connection?’

  ‘She’s the one who tried to poison me.’

  All the pieces were fitting into place, and the lieutenant swivelled around and shouted, ‘Delaney, get your ass in here.’ And he stared him straight in the eye. ‘You should watch the company you keep.’

  When Delaney came in, the lieutenant rattled off orders, detailing who should accompany him to the search site and how many cars were to be used.

  ‘Forensics?’

  ‘Yeah, and a doctor. The whole caboodle. If Becky’s there, she’ll need medical help.’

  ‘What made you decide there was some credence to my story?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s what you said about the woman in the alley, there could be a connection. The man she attacked was bitten on the neck. He’ll survive, but the others weren’t so fortunate.’

  ‘The same MO used by the so-called vampire killer?’

  His brother nodded. ‘The same bite.’

  Now, he worried Solo had broken her promise not to visit the mother. He passed on the woman’s address, and the lieutenant ordered a car to go around to the house and pick her up.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  ‘Who is it?’ The voice behind the door was tremulous. ‘What do you want?’

  Solo knocked again.

  ‘Go away, it’s late. Please go away.’

  She persisted. ‘Can’t, I have news of your son.’

  After a rattling of chains, the door creaked open a few inches, and an eye inspected her. ‘What’s happened to him?’ The woman wanted to hear but was reluctant to engage in conversation.

  Even though she’d promised Headlock she wouldn’t approach the killer’s mother, Solo didn’t want to waste time, and this way she hoped to get closer to the truth.

  The door opened wider, and she wondered if she had the right person. The woman she’d seen earlier dressed to go out appeared younger and more confident.

  Unwilling to talk on the doorstep, she glanced around as if having something to say that she wouldn’t want neighbours to hear. ‘Would be better if I came in.’

  At first, the scientist’s mother declined, but as Solo showed no signs of leaving, she relented. ‘Okay, if you must.’ She ushered her in, looking up and down the road. ‘I was going to bed.’

  The woman wore a dressing-gown and slippers and had scrubbed her face clean of make-up, and her hair was under a nightcap. As soon as Solo stepped over the threshold, she asked, ‘What’s happened? You must tell me.’

  She took her time, listening to determine if there was anyone else in the house. ‘Don’t worry, he’s okay, but first I must ask you a few questions. The police—’

  ‘Are you StatPol?’ she asked with a look of horror. ‘I’m innocent…’

  Letting her believe whatever she wanted, she just stared at her and didn’t speak.

  An instantaneous change came over the woman as she understood co-operation was the only option. ‘Why don’t you call me Bette, that’s what my son calls me?’ She led her into a sitting-room. ‘Can I offer you a coffee?’

  Within minutes, she returned with two mugs of coffee. ‘You said you had news?’

  ‘First, I need answers. Does,’ she struggled to remember the name, ‘Dudley often go out at night?’

  Wondering the best way to answer, the mother’s expression narrowed. ‘No more than normal, I suppose, but then it’s his job.’

  ‘And what does he do?’

  Bette hesitated. If she were police, she’d know.

  ‘Sorry, I have to ask the most obvious questions for the record even if we know the answers.’ She attempted a reassuring smile.

  ‘He’s a top scientist.’ Bette beamed. ‘That’s why he goes out. High up in the State’s Directorate of Vigilance, but then you know that…’

  ‘Please continue.’

  ‘He’s often called in depending on what research they’re involved in. Some experiments are complex, but I wouldn’t understand them.’ She raised her arms to the ceiling. ‘Way above my head.’ And she cackled like a nervous bird.

  ‘Only the two of you live here?’ She scanned the room for evidence of his presence. ‘No one else?’

  ‘No, no, that’s the way it’s been for more than twenty years since my husband, his father died.’

  ‘Does he bring his work home with him?’

  Uncertain, she struggled to craft a response. ‘My son doesn’t discuss work with me. What he does is a mystery. I like to think he can relax at home. All he does here is my treatment—’ She pursed her lips, annoyed for letting it slip.

  ‘Treatment?’
/>   ‘You wouldn’t want to hear about that.’ Bette smiled.

  ‘Oh, yes, I need it for my records, you understand.’

  Awkward, a flustered Bette paused. ‘It’s nothing, I have a small disorder with my blood.’ She shrugged. ‘The problems of getting older, I suppose. No reason for euthanasia yet.’

  ‘Not something the State should investigate?’

  Bette flashed a sly look. ‘It’s not really something I want to talk about.’

  ‘But the information doesn’t show on your scan.’ She didn’t know if it did, but it was worth trying. ‘You realise it’s a crime not to report a serious illness?’

  Frightened, Bette turned white and clasped her hands.

  She leant forward and covered them with a reassuring hand. ‘Don’t worry, it’s our secret. I can turn a blind eye if you help me with my questions.’

  Bette sighed and suddenly looked old.

  ‘Has Dudley ever been in trouble?’

  Wary, Bette wondered if her honesty was under scrutiny. ‘Never, never,’ she snorted too quickly. ‘He’s always been a devoted son. Cares for me night and day. He talked about living with a woman once, but we came to an agreement.’

  ‘Does he go anywhere apart from the Directorate of Vigilance?’

  The mother’s expression hardened, and she paused so long Solo thought she’d fallen into a trance. ‘I don’t interfere. You’ve got to let a boy do what he wants to do, give him a free rein from time to time.’

  A car drove by, and she held her breath, working out how she would deal with him, but it carried on.

  As she listened to the receding car, Bette studied her. And she threw up her hands with a broad smile. ‘Silly me,’ she chirped. ‘Forgot about it. Yes, there’s somewhere else. Would you like another coffee?’

  Not waiting for an answer, she bustled out of the room and returned from the kitchen with a refreshed cup. ‘Now, where were we?’

  ‘Somewhere else.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Remember, he’s a scientist, a neurobiologist and a physicist no less. Scientists are all the same, always tinkering to see what makes us tick, so he’s always conducting experiments of one sort or another. He didn’t want his paraphernalia taking up space at home. And he can’t carry out other research at his place of work, so he has the laboratory, as he calls it, somewhere out of the city.’