A Vampire's Bohemian

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Us driving in together. She’s scared she’ll get reprimanded. Or worse, transferred to another station.”

  “Not by me I hope. I’m sure you’ll work through it.”

  “You won’t say anything, will you? I mean, mention it to her. She’d be furious.”

  “About what?” I winked at him.

  “She thinks the world of you,” he said. “She wants to be you when she grows up.” He let out a chuckle.

  “Way to make me feel old, Dr. Russell.”

  “Riley, and choose a salad next time. They have a cafeteria here you know.”

  “How else am I going to get my antioxidants?” I picked up my mug and waved goodbye.

  “That’s dark chocolate,” he called after me.

  Within the hour, I’d settled into my office and started making good headway pouring through my stack of files. In-between sips of coffee, I went over Hauville’s phone records, which had stopped the day he went missing. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Hauville’s bank records reflected no activity on his accounts. None of his emails had been replied to. Most of them were from friends questioning why he’d gone silent. Some were responses to what they’d seen on the news about him and his alleged case. A futile attempt to reach out to him.

  Hauville had left with his wallet, car keys, and phone, and he hadn’t left a letter as far as his wife told us. Every hospital in London had been contacted and no John Does fitting his description had turned up. To expedite the identification process, we’d obtained Hauville’s dental records. His medical records revealed no health concerns that might account for his sudden disappearance. The report just in from Interpol had nothing on him. Hauville had vanished.

  I made my way up to the seventh floor and strolled through the offices of the Met’s missing persons department. I soon reached the corner office. Inspector John Werner was hard at work at his desk, his nose buried deep in a file. His paunch revealed he’d long given up the beat and the collection of donut wrappers stacked high in the bin beneath his desk divulged his love of sugar. Though if he was going to drop from a heart attack, I hoped he would at least wait until I’d left the floor. His bushy gray eyebrows rose in greeting.

  “Hey there,” I said, trying to ignore his nicotine stained fingernails.

  “What brings you to this neck of the woods?” he said.

  I leaned against his doorjamb. “I was wondering if you had anything on this missing girl’s case.”

  “Come in.”

  I moved closer to his desk. “The case connected to Hauville.”

  “Take a seat.” He gestured to the chair next to his.

  “I’m only popping in. Won’t take up too much of your time.”

  “Nothing on that one. We’re close to tying up a sex trade ring working out of the East End. Did you hear about that one? Sick bastards. Promising foreign girls help with getting their British citizenship and then trapping them in a sweat shop. As well as performing other duties.”

  Bile rose in my throat.

  “Yeah, we’re all going to need a shit load of therapy after this one,” he said.

  “So nothing at all from that photo found on Hauville’s computer?” My hand caressed my cheek to hide the horror of the images I’d just caught on his computer screen. The girls were also being beaten. Some of them were painfully young.

  He followed my stare. “If we find anything I’ll let you know.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Maybe you’ll have to put Hauville away on the fraud case alone. At least you have that.” His phone rang and he reached for it. “Yes,” he snapped, resting his elbow on the desk in a frustrated pose. “Got it. Okay. What time? Look, can I call you back?” He hung up without waiting for an answer and focused back on me. “To be honest, that photo is pretty vague.”

  “If you find anything, can you send it to me?”

  “Sure.” He arched a bushy brow. “Chief Inspector Brooks is getting a briefing on this case right now.”

  “Anything being kept on the down low?”

  He glanced past me, checking we wouldn’t be overheard. “Look, Hauville has played many a round of golf with the Prime Minister.”

  “So any info I get will be filtered?”

  The phone rang again and he picked it up. “Hello.” He rolled his eyes to show his frustration.

  I took that as my cue to leave.

  At 10 A.M., Sgt. Miller arrived for our early morning meeting and sat opposite, ready to cross-reference what we had.

  “Isn’t Helena joining us?” I said, fanning out the files on my desk.

  “Dental appointment, apparently,” Miller said.

  The side of his mouth twitched and I read that small hint of a lie. I let it go, wondering if Helena had been affected by her argument with Dr. Russell last night and needed time to decompress. Although I didn’t like the idea of her dating someone at work, there was no way I’d consider myself a curmudgeon when it came to love. Especially after my romantic affiliations with a Lord of the Underworld. I cursed myself for going there and pushed all thoughts of Jadeon far from my mind, determined to at least do something right today.

  “Helena mentioned something about a root canal,” Miller added, bringing my mind back to focus.

  No, Miller wasn’t lying, though he knew Helena was.

  “She didn’t mention it to me,” I said casually.

  “That surprises me.” Miller held my gaze this time.

  I gave a nod, letting it go, deciding it wiser to stay out of people’s private lives, particularly the relationship kind.

  “Can you do me a favor?” I said.

  “Anything for you, ma’am.”

  “Can you get me a report on a motor vehicle accident?” I said. “It happened at Oxford Circus on the 8th, around 10 in the evening.”

  “Sure. Want to tell me what it’s related to?”

  “I’m looking into something for a friend.”

  “I’ll check in with traffic.”

  “Perfect.”

  Miller had worked at Scotland Yard for decades, which meant he’d have the kind of contacts that wouldn’t question him. The report would be offered up willingly.

  “How did the visit to Hauville’s executive assistant go?” I asked.

  Miller cleared his throat. “Ms. Lawrence has worked for Lord Hauville for over fifteen years, so her loyalty was a hard nut to crack.”

  “Any hint of an affair?”

  “Didn’t get that vibe. She looked around sixty if that helps form an impression. Smart, patient, protective of her boss. The Rottweiler kind.”

  “Did she offer anything new?”

  “All we got out of her was a rave review of her boss. Filled in a few of the gaps about what they’ve been through lately. Their daughter’s passing hit him hard. Hauville fell into a brief depression. Ms. Lawrence did say something interesting though.”

  “Go on.”

  Miller sat back. “Well, you know when someone dies the family very often keep their bedroom just the way it is. At least for a few weeks or even months.”

  “In homage to their loved one’s memory?”

  “Exactly. Well apparently Ms. Lawrence visited the family home the day after Olivia died. The Hauvilles weren’t home and she had a spare key at the time, so she popped into the child’s bedroom to place a vase of roses in there. According to her, Olivia’s bedroom was empty. Stripped bare of everything. Even the bed.”

  “Like stripping the memory of her?”

  “Weird, huh?”

  “It kind of is.” I sat forward. “You mentioned Ms. Lawrence had a key?”

  “Dr. Hauville asked for it back.”

  “Did Dr. Hauville tell her why?”

  “No.”

  “Interesting.”

  There was a knock at the door and Nick entered. “Ma’am, got a question for you.”

  “Let’s see if I have an answer,” I said with a smile.

  “Don’t you ever knock?” Miller cha
stised him. “We’re in a meeting.”

  “I knocked,” Nick said. “This is kind of urgent.”

  “What is it?” I glanced at the envelope in his hand.

  Nick came closer, his usual pale complexion even paler. “What’s the policy when your computer, or correction, the computer you’re working on gets stolen?”

  “What are you talking about?” Miller said.

  Nick swallowed hard. “I went to the loo and was only gone a minute. When I came back to my desk, Chief Inspector Brooks’ computer was gone.”

  “Shit,” said Miller.

  Nick looked like he was about to throw up. “I’m freaking out a bit.”

  Miller and I swapped a wary glance.

  “Well, the place has cameras everywhere,” I said, standing. “Let’s go check out the security footage.”

  Chief Inspector Anthony Brooks appeared in the doorway. This fifty-year-old with a well-used face easily ruled the room, and his tall, slender figure proved he could still go a round of racquetball and win by a mile against the junior officers.

  Nick side-stepped out of his way.

  “Sgt. Miller,” Brooks said, his face taut with tension. “Can you give us a moment?” He glowered at Nick. “You’re staying.”

  Miller was up and out of his chair, moving faster than I’d ever seen him in an impressive reaction to Brooks’ demeanor. I threw Nick a glance, hoping he’d get my subtle smile reassuring him. With Miller gone and the door shut, Brooks pointed to the seat opposite mine, gesturing for Nick to sit.

  I remained standing. “Mr. Green’s just reported your computer missing, sir,” I said. “I can assure you we are on it.”

  “Oh I know where my computer is.” Brooks glared at Nick. “It’s what the fuck he was doing on it that I want to know.”

  A slew of possibilities came to mind, yet none of them fit any of Nick’s M.O.s, which was clean cut and by-the-book. Unless of course I’d read him wrong.

  “I just had the Home Office on the line,” Brooks snapped. “Asking why I’m hacking into one of their computer systems.”

  My stare shot to Nick’s and slowly, reluctantly, found its way back over to Brooks. “Sir, are we talking about the Athenaeum in Pall Mall?”

  “You know about this?” he said sharply.

  “I authorized it,” I said, sensing Nick’s immediate relief. “Unofficially.”

  Brooks stared at me in horror. “Shut down whatever you think you’re doing.” He raised a hand. “I don’t want to know.” He puffed out his cheeks in annoyance. “Is it related to the Hauville case?”

  “No, sir,” I said. “But—”

  “Jansen,” he snapped. “You’ve riled up some very senior civil servants. I’ll see what I can do to put the fire out. No more misappropriation of personnel or Scotland Yard’s computers. Understand? Or I’ll be using you as a civilian consultant.”

  “Yes, sir.” I cringed, wondering what kind of connections Jadeon and the elders had with the British government.

  I mean, what the hell? I’m not sure what I expected but it certainly wasn’t this.

  “May I ask if the report’s come in on the kidnapping case?” I said, hoping to change the subject and regain some of the respect he’d once had for me.

  Brooks gave a dismissive sweep of his hand. “Your fraud case is solid, so don’t lose any sleep. Once you get a hit on his whereabouts arrest him.”

  “What about that girl?” Nick asked, and visibly cowered when Brooks glared at him.

  Brooks ignored him. “We’re thinking the photo was downloaded from a European porn site. Looks German if you ask me. S C & O ran the girl through our face recognition software but nothing came up.”

  “So that’s it?” Nick dared to clarify.

  Brooks looked annoyed. “Not come up with anything new have you, Jansen?”

  I dropped my shoulders, dejected that I couldn’t in any way share why yes, sir. She’s a vampire. And that brand on her left forearm is the mark of a Gothica. Got one myself actually. So when it comes to all things undead, I’m your girl.

  My forearm itched right over my brand.

  “Didn’t think so,” Brooks said. “Stop wasting police time hacking into government computers. My retirement’s coming up in less than a year. Don’t fuck up my pension.” He stormed out and slammed the door behind him.

  “Nick, I’m so sorry,” I said.

  He held up the manila envelope he’d come in with and waved it in the air. “You owe me one.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Outside the front door of Scotland Yard, I breathed in the smog.

  At least it wasn’t stuffy office air recycled by the over chilled air-con. I peeked inside the envelope that Nick had given to me and marveled that he’d managed to get anything in the short time he’d worked on Brooks’ computer. Why he’d used that one to access sensitive information left me reeling. Wasn’t there some way to hide his cyber tracks so that the British government hadn’t been alerted? Still, other than Brooks’ verbal warning it looked like we’d gotten away with it.

  A long list of names ran the full length of the page. Nick had accessed associates of the Athenaeum. Thrilled with my new evidence booty, I tucked the envelope back into my handbag and headed out in the direction of St. James’ Park tube station, looking forward to studying this list when I got home. A glass of wine and an evening of researching these members lay in my future.

  My feet stuck to the pavement—

  Parked on Dacre Street was that same Rolls Royce that had brought me to work this morning.

  Henry leaned casually against the back door and his face lit up in a smile when he saw me. “Evening, ma’am. How was your day?”

  “What are you doing here?” I kept my voice low, not wanting to draw any more attention from the passing pedestrians, some of whom were Scotland Yard employees.

  “I’m not here to take you home, ma’am.” He peered up at glass windows of Scotland Yard.

  “What are you doing here then?”

  Henry tilted his head toward the passenger door, hinting I was to get in.

  “I’ll walk,” I said, trusting my gut, which was telling me to put distance between me and the car.

  Henry opened the rear door. “Best not keep him waiting, ma’am.”

  Swallowing hard, I hesitated, not sure if I was up for another round of verbal sparring with Orpheus.

  “We’ll be back here tomorrow in the same spot otherwise.” Henry gave a sympathetic look.

  Resisting the urge to glance back and see if any of my colleagues might be catching this unusual drama unfolding, I lowered my head and climbed in.

  There, sitting comfortably on the far leather seat and dressed in a sharp black pinstriped suit, pristine white shirt, with his silk tie undone, sat Jadeon.

  Settling into the seat next to him, I felt grateful for the distance between us. All this posh cream leather and perfect trim everywhere was unnerving. If this was merely a quick visit for my nightly chastisement, I didn’t feel up for it. Weren’t we meant to keep our distance from each other?

  Jadeon captured me with that fiery gaze of his. He oozed a brooding sensuality, highlighted by his unyielding confidence. His heady cologne reached over the scent of leather, stirring feelings I had no right to feel. Back in Scotland Yard I was a force to be reckoned with, but in here with the Lord of the Underworld I found myself crumbling.

  I jumped when Henry shut the door. The soft lighting did nothing for my unease.

  “Henry,” Jadeon said calmly.

  The privacy glass slid upward, providing a black glass window between us and Henry. The Rolls effortlessly pulled away from the curb. I wondered where we might be headed. Home, if last night’s drive was anything to go by.

  “If you’re here to continue,” I titled my head to make my point, “where we left off last night—”

  “That’s not why I’m here.” His tone was deep, smooth, cultured, and he threw me off balance as he always did with that dominatin
g look. He held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I won’t ask you again.”

  My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips to moisten them. I squirmed in response to his steely stare. A twitch of his lips revealed his awareness of how he affected me, as though he drew a dark pleasure from it.

  His hand returned to rest by his side. “Very well.”

  As though time had stood still, he now held an envelope in his hand. He hadn’t moved at all, or at least I hadn’t seen him move. Jadeon casually peeked inside the manila envelope. I dove into my handbag searching for mine, disbelieving it was the same one I’d tucked in there less than a minute ago. Sure enough, the envelope was no longer in there.

  “You blinked,” he said, folding it in half and tucking it into his jacket pocket.

  “That’s police property,” I said.

  He peered beyond the window, taking in the building fading into the distance. “Something tells me this information was accessed illegally,” he said. “Shall we return to Scotland Yard and discuss the matter with your superiors?”

  “That won’t be necessary.” I wondered how ridiculous it would look if I dived on top of him and tried to get it back.

  From his raised eyebrows, I wasn’t the only one musing how impulsive I might be.

  “What is it with you and Orpheus kidnapping me and whisking me off without my consent?” I said. “You two have a lot in common.” I knew how to push his buttons too.

  “Last night,” his eyes narrowed, “we both agreed it would be safer for you not to pursue any further inquiry into the Athenaeum—”

  “I didn’t agree—”

  “I’ve not finished.” He sounded eerily calm. “The warning was articulated clearly that should you ever again show any interest in that building there would be serious consequences.”

  Something shifted inside my chest, a thrill of excitement. My head screamed something to the effect that I was on to something big. “It’s a government building?”

  “Even after the threat of turning you?” He looked exasperated. “What is it going to take to reach into that thick skull of yours?”