Harvest Of Evil

by William Lehman

  He got red at that, and I smelled anger again. "Your investigation? This is our jurisdiction, and we should have been called in at the start. I'm taking over, right now. You will tell me what you have, give me all of your notes and evidence, and get off the case. Then we'll see about this laying of hands on me, when I get done with you, you'll be handing out welcome packets at the entrance of Yellowstone, if you work for the Government at all." About this time, I heard the distinct sound of a big Harley starting up.

  "Shit, there goes our suspect, you ass hole! I don't suppose you got the tag?" I was even more pissed at these two now.

  "NO, I didn't 'got the tag'. We had the driver," the senior one said. "Why didn't you get the tag? And I thought I told you, you're off the case."

  "I was about to get the tag, when you two came charging onto the scene, and as for me being off the case, let's see about that." I went over and got my 'berry, then called Lt. Murphy, at home no less, and told her she and Capt. Roberts needed to be out here as of about thirty minutes ago. Then I sat down to wait. While I was waiting, I found out who these two heroes of the Federal Government were, the one in charge was Lucius LeRoux, the big dumb one was Rodney Grimes. About thirty minutes later, Murphy, and seconds after that, Roberts, pulled up. There was a big 'he said, they said' scene. A lot of fingers were pointed, but I had enough evidence of what these two had pulled that the powers that be believed me. They called the senior officer in charge FBI, and with in an hour, I was again OIC, over the whole investigation now, not just the murder. This included the break-in attempt at the Federal building, which is what got the FPI involved in the first place. The special agent in charge for the FPI in the western Washington Region, one Agent LeRoux, was informed that he would turn over all of his notes and evidence, and stay away from the case. I don't think I was on Lucius' Christmas card list anymore. Ask me do I care. Go ahead, ask.

  Well, LeRoux offered to guard mail me the data, and I replied that I would be more than happy to pick it up personally, and right now if you don't mind. After many further negotiations, and much screaming and gnashing of teeth, we came to an agreement that I would follow them back to their office in the Federal building, pick up the data and be on my way. Hopefully never to see them again. (As if) I left Pete in charge of getting tire prints of the bike, and hoof prints of the elk. By themselves we don't have anything on the elk whoever he/she/it was, but I was sure that we would be seeing it again, and just as sure it was dirty. I also had Pete look around some more for the ear cuffs, just in case.

  Going in to the FPI offices with LeRoux was an entertaining experience, to say the least. Obviously the word had gotten out about the 'boss's' little head bumping incident with me, and when we both showed up, me still in half form, and very obviously armed and watching the 'dynamic duo' from behind them, well the catcalls and harassment were impressive. I get the feeling that LeRoux isn't terribly well thought of by the rank and file. LeRoux handed me the files, and told me to get out of his office in no uncertain terms. Before I took off for home, I gave Mary another call, but she still wasn't home.

  When I got home, Lars was nowhere to be found, but he had left a note that he had gone down to the boat to make sure it was OK, and do a little maintenance, and that he would be back about sundown. Then I got down to going through the stuff from LeRoux. The first thing I looked for was the answer to Uncle Lars' question. It turned out that when the Federal building was built, it was made consecrated ground. And I mean in a BIG way. Hosts in the foundation, holy water in the mortar, blessings by ALL of the major and most of the minor religions. Further, they had a full time sensitive on duty, monitoring for harmful intent. When he sounded the alarm, they bagged ass. The rest of the data they had included: better pictures of the five Vamps, some half-hearted attempts at talking with the members of the local liquid diet society that were out of the coffin, a skin sample that the initial DNA test (full lab report due next week) indicated was of Mesoamerican origin, and the initial contact info and briefing on the possible tie-in with the case starting to be known as the Boiled Growers. After some further examination of the improved images, it was pretty sure that the nose rings and finger rings were close to identical with the ones in the evidence locker, which gives a halfway decent motive for the attempted break-in. What it doesn't give me is any closer lead on this Marina gal. I made a mental note, and then a back up on the Blackberry, to have INS look into anyone named Marina with a son named Mixcoatl. That's got to be a strange combination, and there may be only one or two hits on it. If they're here legally that may give me a picture to work from. I also decided that I needed to make a second trip into Seattle to talk to the terminally anemic. That's when Mary called.

  11

  I answered the phone, "John Fisher, go." The caller ID said 'not available' so I had no idea who it was at this point.

  "John, it's Mary, I have lots of news." She sounded excited, and almost bubbly, which was hard to envision out of Mary even in the brief time I had known her.

  "OK Mary, lay it on me." I was in an all right mood; things had, all in all, gone well today. I was still pissed, though, that that pair of idiots had let my prime suspect get away. I didn't know that Marina was the owner of the Harley, but I was pretty sure that whoever owned it knew things that I needed to know. I was also sure that whoever the driver of the bike was, they were involved in the murder. You know something funny? Will Rogers had it right. "It's not what we don't know that gets us into trouble. It's what we know, that just ain't so."

  Mary responded with a snicker, "Oh no, what I have is worth at least a dinner, maybe dancing."

  Shit. I would have liked nothing better than to get to know Mary better. But I had to talk to the Master Vamps tonight, and the longer I waited, the less likely I was to get any cooperation. I had a court appearance on Monday, so Sunday night was out, that left tonight or at least two days from now. FAR. "Mary, I would love to, but I have to talk to some people tonight."

  "All right, I'll go with you after dinner, then we can go dancing." She was still playing coquette, and while I would have loved to play along, this wasn't the time.

  "Mary, this isn't the time, these people are BAD NEWS." You could hear the capitals. "How 'bouts I give you a rain check? I would love to do this, but I can't do it today. Oh, and I can't dance."

  "What do you mean 'you can't dance'? Are you under some sort of geas or something? And as for 'Bad News' I will have you know that the man that can scare me hasn't been born yet." Now she was sounding pissed, oh Hel.

  Well, it was time to pull out all the stops. "Mary, the guys I have to talk to tonight are the Masters council. Five Vamps tried to knock over the Federal building last night, and it's apparently related to the case I'm on. I'm going to have to go before the Masters council and ask them if some of their troops are being really stupid. This is not going to be fun and games, and I doubt my badge is going to overawe them. That's why you can't come."

  "I know who you are going to see, silly. I probably knew about the break-in attempt almost as quickly as you did. And as for the council, I've seen them before, "they don't impress me much." (Ok, she listens to country music, that's a plus) So how about that dinner?"

  Well shit, what the Hel am I supposed to do now. "OK, when and where do I pick you up? And what do you feel like?" It seemed that I was going on a date, will thee, nil thee.

  "As to what I feel like, you don't know me that well yet, cowboy. Seriously though, steak. Good steak." Then she gave me an address in between Duvall and Woodinville, complete with directions. Then she asked me how long it would take to get there. I told her that I could be there in forty-five minutes. She said she would see me then, and hung up. I made a few phone calls and then got ready to go out.

  *****

  Forty five minutes later, I was dressed in a suit and tie, boots, and a Stetson, and knocking on her door. Mary answered the door in a suede suit jacket with some really cool bead work, that I would bet money she had done herself.
Leather pants that may have been put on wet and allowed to dry (they were that tight), and a pair of cowboy boots like I've never seen before. I'm not sure what the hide was, but I'm guessing Gila monster. She was wearing a perfume that was probably named 'Obsession' or something, but should have been named 'Justifiable Rape.' And through it all I could smell that sage and sweet grass scent that I had gotten off her earlier, and some other scent that I just couldn't place for the life of me. She looked at me and grinned.

  "Oh good, you got the clue. Shall we go?"

  Well I wasn't sure what clue she was talking about, but I guess it was OK, because I had done something right. She grabbed up a small purse that strapped around her suddenly oh so obviously narrow waist, and said "shall we?" I had noticed her good looks before, after all, I'm not dead. But now I NOTICED. OK, this could go places. We got in the Durango, (yes it is my only car, so…?) and headed toward Seattle. It was a pretty drive down to 405, most of the leaves had fallen, but here in Washington that only reduces the amount of greenery by half. It's rolling country, the start of the foothills to the Cascades, and even though Seattle is only a few miles away, this is still mostly a farm and forestry area. We talked about inconsequential things mostly. I knew that she wasn't going to give up any information on the case until she was damn good and ready, and I wasn't going to make it any more amusing for her by pleading. I don't do pleading any better than I do retreating. One thing that I did ask about, though, was the jacket. Turns out it's heap big medicine. She killed and skinned the elk herself (truly a woman after my own heart, yeah this could definitely go places.) The bead work is her own doing, and consists of medicine totems and the emblem of something called a Cheyenne Dog soldier. I didn't ask what that was, I figured I could look it up later. Besides it can't be that important, can it? (and Will Rogers bites me in the ass again.)

  After a bit we got onto 405 and then crossed the lake on 90. We got off on I-5, then onto the surface streets, and finally wound up down by the stadiums at a place called FX McRory's, one of the finest steak houses in town or the state for that matter. I will not go so far as to say in the country, but … As you may have guessed, I like the place. The fact that they boast one of the largest selections of bourbon in the world doesn't hurt either. We had reservations, if you don't call ahead, don't expect to see food for a good long while. Dinner was serious business, we didn't talk all that much.

  After dinner though, I looked at her and said, "OK, I've been a good boy, now throw me a bone. At least tell me something, and if you know anything that I may need to know before we go and meet the council, now would be a good time."

  She looked at me and grinned. "You know, you are a most frustrating man. I was really hoping to get much more mileage out of teasing you." She broke out a little notebook from her little purse, and opened it. "The Goddess' name seems to be Cihuacoatl. She was a patron for mothers and women who died giving birth. Mixcoatl was her son, who was a God in his own right. The gold you showed me all has her likeness on it, along with symbols that are indicative of a hereditary priest. Her name means 'snake-woman'. Also it's very possible that the beings that tried to rob the Federal building are not true Vampires as you and I know Vampires. The Aztecs had their own version called Civatateo. Very little is known about them, as they were believed to be a myth as opposed to an actual being. They are servants of the gods according to legend and are composed of women who died in childbirth. The legend doesn't match much of what we know about European Vampires, in fact about the only thing that does match is the fact that they are bodies of former living humans, and the general description. That ought to give you something to go to the council with though. And the rest of what I have can wait until after the council and dancing."

  She said as she put her notebook away and gave me a knowing smirk.

  I thought to myself, "This is bullshit. How in the hell does she know enough about the attempted 'break-in' to have descriptions?" What I said, was "All right, if that's all you're going to give me right now, I guess I'll have to be happy with it. What you do have is great, and you're right, this should give me enough ammo to get the council on my side. Or at least listening to me. Yeah, I can work with this. I can't wait to hear what else you have, if these are your throwaway cards. OK, last chance to bail before we go and talk to the council."

  She just looked at me and rolled her eyes, so I gave up on trying to talk her out of it. By now it was well past sunset, so we headed for the council offices. They were only a few blocks away at Fifth and Columbia. The first, second, and third basements of the Bank of America Tower are the official offices of the council, and the various business offices of the senior Masters. It's rumored that the B of A is owned by a consortium of city Masters, hidden by cutouts. I wouldn't be surprised, the place always has operated like it was run by a bunch of blood-sucking assholes. It's sure that the building was built with the council as partners of the B of A, that much is official record.

  I had never actually talked with any of the city Masters, we didn't really travel in the same circles if you know what I mean. Still, I knew what anyone who was moderately informed about the rich and shameless knew, The Masters were roughly as well known as Paul Allen and Bill Gates. We were the headquarters of the only complete set of Masters between Vancouver and San Francisco. And, as such, were the recipients of lots of notoriety from the Church of Humanity, and the Klan, among other fruitcake groups. Hate crime legislation being what it was in Washington, we had a trial with one or another of the 'anti-preternatural beings' groups semi-regularly. And the Ultra Liberal Left being what it was, we got to hear all about how wonderful the Vampire life was, and how we needed to embrace the different cultures even more often. Personally I just want to be left alone. If the Klan or one of the other hate groups wants a part of me, they're going to regret that they ever tried. And if you want to embrace something, go embrace yourself, in private. Just leave me out of it.

  Before I meet the Master's council, I suppose I should review the basics of Vampirism for those of you that were asleep in biology, if you remember all this from High-school, or just don't care, feel free to skip it:

  Vampirism is a viral infection, transmitted via a two stage process: you must be bitten, and you must ingest some of the vampire's body fluid, (saliva sometimes, blood, semen or vaginal excretions.)

  There are five genetic strains of Vampirism. Vampires have named them the Nosferatu, Lycan, Castillos, Ephemerals, and Praetorians.

  Each of these have the same basic set of symptoms: an extreme allergy to sunlight, ultra-violet light, and garlic; the ability to gain nourishment from the blood of any warm-blooded creature; the inability to gain nourishment from normal food; the ability to fog minds of the weaker minded (for instance, those that believe 'Elvis Ain't Dead'), superior senses and incredible strength. All strains have a completely dormant period spanning from local sunrise to local nautical twilight, though there are some exceptions: Old Master Vamps of any family can stay awake during daylight in emergencies, though they pay for it later (power has a price). (Master Lycan Vamps can become day walkers without needing to be old masters, and without the heavy toll in energy). All strains also experience a susceptibility to damage from holy objects held by a believer; the need to be with their 'native soil' (earth from the country or state they lived in prior to conversion) and incredible life spans. What they can't do, old wives tales aside, is turn into bats, rats, wolves, mist, nor can they fly, though a Vamp running at full speed gives the perception of flight because they are so damn fast. They are vulnerable to fire, and beheading or dismemberment (like from a bomb) will kill them, as will complete destruction of the heart with wood or silver, or severing of the spine. Also, it was found in the jungles of Vietnam that people or animals exposed to large doses of Agent Orange or certain other chemicals become poisonous to Vampire kind. Part of the law changes as a result of 'Sotheby' include the concept that Vampire bites without informed consent constitute first degree aggravated rape, whic
h is now a Federal capital crime.

  Darwin's studies describe the various families of Vampires as follows: Nosferatu: appear to be continuously rotting, as if from Leprosy. They can call/control the dead as if by Necromancy. This is the most powerful line as far as other Vampires are concerned, Masters can feed off fear. Lycan: Has the power to control animals, almost indistinguishable from human except for fangs and complexion, Masters can become day walkers and don't need blood as often as other races, second most affinity with man. Castillos: appear as super beautiful 'like a God.' These are the aristocracy of Vampire kind: while the Nosferatu are more powerful, they are much feared and hated by the rest of Homo Nocturnus. This tribe specializes in politics and mind control, Castillos masters can feed off emotions instead of blood. Ephemerals: the only artistically gifted strain, and the only strain that actually creates new things. They have supervampiric senses including the ability to see far into the UV and IR spectrum, and the ability to see bars in the color spectrum. This family has the most affinity with man, Masters are transmitting empaths and can feed off of love/lust. Praetorians: "the Praetorian is uncommonly ugly, but has a natural gift for mind control, and pass unnoticed unless they allow you to see them" (note, some humans are naturally immune to this). This tribe is often the power behind the throne, Niccolo Machiavelli is rumored to have been one. Masters can kill at a distance with a word.