The Parchment (The Memory of Blood)

by Sylvie Brisset

  "You have no idea what can be learned in the movies. You should drop the opera and have more educative leisure. Now I understand where you got the stick you have in your..."

  "Casper. This is serious!" Clothilde interrupted.

  "So what? There's someone focusing on our Vamp. But say, do you realize? Your portrait was exhibited in a museum in London! Top class! I should maybe ask you to sign me an autograph. And this thing written in Latin, what is it?"

  "It is not written in Latin but in Gothic," Delatour corrected.

  "Well, I did not know the language there. This is when the Goths invaded Gaul, isn't it? I read that in the comic strip Asterix. They all had names that ended with 'ic'. And I saw the movie Attila. 'No grass grows where my horse has trod!' I had always thought it would be a funny slogan for those who want to fight against cannabis cultivation. Herb-Grass and tread-trade, you've got the joke your highness?"

  Delatour looked up to heaven and let out an exasperated sigh.

  "Gothic is not a language but the Latin script, a way to write it if you prefer."

  "Ah, this is a printer font as the one we can choose in computers? You can't say it simply? And you manage to read this stuff? I hardly recognize some letters. Too much convoluted for my taste!"

  "Yes."

  This time it was Casper who made an exasperated sigh.

  "And you would have a hangover translating it for us?"

  Delatour took over the copies of the manuscript and quietly flipped through the pages. Then he put them near other documents without a word.

  "So what?"

  As Delatour remained silent, Mystie seized them and tried to read aloud, helped by Clothilde who looked over her shoulder.

  "Damn it! I do not understand a word!" Mystie said.

  She looked up to Clothilde, a question mark in her eyes.

  Her grandmother shook her head. She could not decipher it either. Some of their ancestors had learned to read, although this was rare when Gothic was still in use, especially for women. This knowledge had been transmitted through their genetic memory. But this skill did not help them.

  "I'm sorry Silvo! I do not understand why I cannot read it. Nevertheless it looks like Latin."

  "It is coded," Delatour said simply.

  "The analyst to whom I gave the parchment thinks the same," Silvo confirmed.

  "A James Bond of that time!" Casper went into raptures. "Yikes! By the way, what is that time?"

  "I would say without certainty fifteenth century," Mystie proposed.

  "How old are you, your highness?"

  Delatour kept a stubborn silence.

  "Silvo, where did you get those documents?" Mystie asked while resting the magnifying glass that had been used to study the pages closer.

  "An American colleague sent them to me." And he summarized the events such as Porkelevitch had described them in his message. "According to my contact, these documents were stolen and the thief ended up, drained of blood, on a meat hook. The receiver was shot in the head. The intermediary got a crushed windpipe. The buyer died of a heart attack caused or masked as such. The granddaughter of the buyer, Michaela Jones, has disappeared but it is reasonable to fear that she is dead too. My contact has not taken the time to translate the parchment. As on other documents Delatour’s face appears, he had thought that someone had a grudge against his family and sent me these documents."

  "So they do not know his true nature?" Mystie asked, relieved.

  "The fact that Lieutenant Porkelevitch ignores it does not mean that is the case for everybody. Who would kill to have those documents, and ignore where they could lead? The originals have disappeared. They are probably in the hands of the killers. And we do not know either their ID or their aims."

  "It's weird," Mystie added thoughtfully. "They were all killed differently. The one by bullet reminds me of a very human murderer. For others, I do not know what to think of it. What gives so much value to these documents?"

  All turned to Delatour, hoping that he would help them. But as usual, he remained silent.

  "So? What do they want from you, your highness? You spit out the piece or need forceps?" Casper grew impatient.

  "I do not know. But many things can attract madmen in search of immortality, or vampire hunters."

  "I knew the Ghostbusters, but not Vampbusters. Does it exist?" Casper asked, humming the soundtrack. “If there 's something strange in your neighborhood, Who you gonna call? Dadou Dadou."

  Delatour nodded.

  "I have fortunately never had the opportunity to meet one of them. But I've heard talk about them."

  "What's wrong with you? Why showing off yourself this way?" Mystie asked reproachfully. "You should have realized that at one point or another, someone could make the connection."

  "The painting was done in my lifetime. I had no reason to deny a common practice in families in this time. The photo in Berlin was taken without my knowledge. As for the article on Internet, let's say that, separately, it presented no risk. Publications help to gather research funds. And as was believed at first by our severely retarded team member, the logical conclusion is ancestry."

  Silvo had to admit that the arguments of Delatour were unstoppable.

  "Ok. What do we do?" Mystie asked. "We can imagine they are searching for you and they will have no trouble finding you."

  "If they have information for several days and have not done anything yet, hopefully they have not been able to make the right conclusions," Clothilde said.

  "Something bothers me," Mystie declared, playing mechanically with her curls. "Somebody killed to obtain those documents. It is established. But who had them in the first place and why?"

  "Well thought." Silvo approved smiling. "I have already done the searches. Nobody reported the loss of the manuscript. No museum or private individual. It's strange, but not inconceivable. Museums do not carry permanent inventory, and individuals could possess them illegally for example."

  "We could also imagine that their former owners want to get them back in a muscular way," Mystie added.

  Silvo nodded. "Yes, that would explain that they were aware of their existence. One way or another, someone has stolen the file. They cannot report the loss of the manuscript and decide to follow the trail alone. To leave no trace, they kill those who are in their way."

  "In this case, they recovered them and went home!" Casper added.

  "Yes. This is a hypothesis. Unless, more people are interested in these documents. And I am curious to know who set up such a file and why," Mystie added.

  "If you ask me, we’re racking our brains for nothing." Casper said.

  "Why do you say that?" Silvo asked.

  "We, we know that Delatour is a vampire. Thus we think only of it. But who knows? Maybe it's just the script that interests them. Theft of artwork, full stop."

  "Difficult to admit it, but I agree with him," Delatour added.

  "I would have shared this view, if other documents were not attached to the manuscript. We do need a translation," Silvo answered. "Only then will we know what to think of it. It is in course. No idea about its origin?" Silvo asked Delatour.

  "This is the first time I see it. But if these people were after me, it has been quite a while since they should have made it. Don't you think so?"

  "Taken separately, these pages have no particular meaning," Mystie confirmed. "You said it yourself. But we know now that they have been gathered. That could change the deal. And overall, we do not know by whom and why."

  "Better to be cautious. Did you notice anything unusual in your neighborhood lately?" Silvo asked Delatour.

  "No. But I was very busy in the laboratory. I was not particularly attentive."

  "No visit from foreigners? Past or future?"

  "We have people of all nationalities. But no new faces, as far as I can judge. And in a laboratory, safety means a lot!"

  "Yes. But it focused on research, not researchers," Silvo objected. "And you're not always in your lab.
"

  "What's your research anyway?" Casper asked, curious.

  "It would take all night long to explain it to you, and all of my non-life to make you understand, then give it up!"

  Casper read the title of the article published on the Internet.

  "Stem cells? What does that mean? I would have thought that a vampire would do blood research. To create new culinary recipes for his congeners and vary the menus. Devils fudge cake, sausage of hemoglobin, blood sugar with onion and cholesterol...."

  "As I just told you. GIVE IT UP!"

  "So what do we do?" Mystie asked again. "It might be better that you take a little vacation, don't you think so?"

  "I cannot get away at the moment. And then it would change nothing. If these men really want to find me, they will make it sooner or later. And I'm not going to hide all the same!"

  "Then you'll play the goat?” Casper asked. "Rather unexpected for a predator. Anyway, what do you risk? Humans are no match for a vampire."

  As Delatour was silent, Silvo answered for him.

  "You are right Casper, but these people are killers. They have already murdered several people, just to get those documents. They must be arrested. And imagine they spread the information, or want to do experiments. Their interest for Delatour is all we have for now."

  "Yeah. And his highness knows that guinea pigs suffer. Think about it Dracul, they could put you under a spotlight tanning. It would improve your look, but a necklace of garlic, it stinks."

  "Please Casper. Be serious," Mystie interrupted, even though she knew that his tasteless jokes were also a way for him to evacuate his stress.

  "Can you provide us with a cover so that we can enter your lab? At least we could try to watch your back. I know, you do not need anyone to defend you," Silvo said, aware of the imminent refusal of Delatour. "But these people are killers. They should be judged. Others are less powerful than you and have paid it with their lives. Their interest for you is all we have."

  You're a whiz with the negotiations, Casper thought, so that Silvo was the only one to hear him.

  I would not want him taking justice into his own hands, Silvo thought to the attention of the phantom. I would not be able to cover him.

  "I still think it's a waste of time and energy. You will do what? Mobilize a team that doubtless would be more useful elsewhere? And for how long?"

  "Agreed. Just me and Mystie, and for a few days. Then we'll see."

  "Your choice!" The vampire capitulated, seeing Silvo’s stubbornness. "I should find something. But it will not be easy. You have no knowledge in science. You will be unmasked very quickly."

  "I could perhaps pretend to be a member of the Labour Inspectorate. So I would have access to all staff files and nobody would be surprised if I ask a few people on the motive of their presence," Silvo proposed.

  "And I could be a cleaning lady. So I could go to many places and no one would take offence at it," Mystie added. "And you could live for a few days in our apartment above the shop. It's more difficult to get inside that in your villa with multiple openings. And easier to monitor."

  "Yes. It's an idea," Delatour said, rubbing his chin with evident satisfaction.

  "'I do not like your face Dracul. You are hiding something from us," Casper said suspiciously.

  This time again Delatour did not answer.

  In a car parked at the entrance of the impasse, Kopf withdrew headsets that had enabled him to follow the discussion that had just been held in the shop. He motioned to "Elegant" to repack the remote listening audio equipment and rubbed his hands. This conversation was very informative and his patience, as always, had been rewarded.

  He liked everything that made reference to history and that was valuable, of course. When he learned that a rare manuscript was on the market, he decided to get it. But he missed the affair. Never mind, he had corrected this error. He understood nothing in the superman's stories that Stone had mumbled before he died. The documents helpfully supplied by his granddaughter, the translation of the manuscript, gave another perspective to the ranting of the old madman. But Kopf was a prudent and pragmatic man. So he had conducted his investigation on the spot in France. He read again Silvo file, which appeared on his computer.

  The leader of a secret service, who report at the highest level of government. A scientist who, by his own confession, had been represented, photographed at periods that greatly exceeded the life expectancy of a man. A discreet meeting in a corny store, probably owned by the State. Phrases like "true nature", "men in search of eternity" could become explainable. This Delatour had had to undergo modifications during scientific experiments. And these changes had given him powers. Or he had found a way to travel through time. No matter the nature of his capabilities. Kopf wanted them. Whatever they may be, he was certain to find a use for them. What he assumed was confirmed tonight. He had gathered exactly the resources he needed. For the time being, at least. He could then take action.

  "Leather jacket" looked questioningly at him about the sequence of operations.

  "We follow the plan. Tell the lab assistant to be ready. We act tomorrow. The timing is perfect."

  "I do not see in what the timing is so perfect," "Elegant" grumbled. "Tomorrow he will be protected by the cops. And he knows we're after him now. We should have made it today."

  "I do not act without information, unlike you," Kopf replied dryly. "I now know what to focus on. And if a girl and an old cop bother you, you should change jobs. The danger comes not from them, but there will be no problem if you scrupulously follow the orders. All the lab equipment should be there now. You drop me on the Champs-Elysees and you will make sure everything is in order."

  Michaela followed the exchange of her kidnappers without understanding. Listening had taught her nothing. She only knew a few words of French. She did not even know where the voices could come from. But at least she knew their faces, as Kopf had made them scroll on the screen. She intended to visit apartments in the area, but then she risked losing her attackers. And assuming she found those that Kopf had spied on, she doubted being able to communicate with them. And to tell them what? Better wait and see what was to happen the next day. At least the police seemed aware of the threat. She felt less alone.

  CHAPTER - 14 -

  The next morning at half past seven, Mystie nonchalantly pushed a cart full of cleaning products while monitoring the lab and the employees who began their working day. Delatour was right, the building was a fortress. Everyone had to wear a badge, which restricted access. Cameras were placed in all corridors. In most important places, security was reinforced by recognition not only of fingerprints but also of irises. Delatour himself had not been able to authorize entry into all parts of the site. Only a committee of main researchers might allow this access. At the slightest alert, all doors closed automatically.

  "It's worse than Fort Knox!" Casper went into raptures.

  "If you want my opinion, no site is one hundred percent secured. Security is designed by humans against humans," Mystie murmured. "There are always loopholes. And the more it is computerized, the more it risks breaking down."

  "You think those who want Delatour are not human?"

  "I do not know. Everything is possible. On the other hand, a non-human wouldn't need documents to be aware of vampires’ existence. But who knows?"

  "'Got it! You want me to take a closer look if I see a soul dragging around."

  "At least in the rooms where I do not have access. I will do the rest. But this rest remains very limited, apart from offices and walkways."

  "You forget the ladies and men rooms, as his highness would say. If I were you I would go for a walk there. It's crazy what people can swing there, from top and bottom. And not just literally. In the toilet and in front of the coffee machine. You think there is a relationship of reason to effect?"

  Without waiting for a reply Mystie, he added.

  "I leave you. See you."

  Mystie placed headphones on her
ears. But she did not listen to music. It was the means of communication they had chosen for the day.

  For his part Silvo had been welcomed by the HR Manager, who had given him with good grace the records of persons attached to the laboratory. He reviewed those of recent arrivals for several hours but found nothing abnormal. A few discreet questions did not allow him to discover more.

  When in the late morning he heard a sizzle, he discreetly placed the earphone.

  "We're wasting our time," Mystie said.

  "I think the same," Silvo confessed.

  "Any news from Delatour?"

  "Not since he locked himself in his lab. In my opinion, if he had to be attacked, it would be outside the building. He would be more vulnerable."

  "That's my opinion. Casper is with you?"

  "No. I thought he was with you."

  "I have almost not seen him since we arrived. I do not like that. Can you warn Delatour? We have to go outside to talk."

  "Agreed. I'll call you."

  Mystie took a deep breath and focused to try to see Casper, knowing that if he did not bother taking a spectral form, she would not see him anyway.

  More and more worried, she abandoned her cart, which slowed her down and began to go back along the corridors. The complex was not that big. Casper should have shown himself by now.

  "Mystie? You hear me?"

  "Yes, Silvo."

  "Delatour seems to have disappeared. No one has seen him for over two hours. He does not answer his cell phone."

  "Ok, I’ll try the private line. I'll call you back."

  Mystie closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate better and lowered the barriers that prevented Delatour to break without warning into her mind. She called him, but got no answer. She did not like this type of communication too invasive for her taste.. She was not even sure how to use it. She tried again, forcing herself to empty her mind of any unwanted thinking, attentive to every thought that would show up and would not be hers. But she got nothing. She was going to inform Silvo when she perceived a feeble voice. Casper!