by Helen Harper
I swung open the iron gate and walked quietly along the path until I was a metre or so behind her. ‘Mrs Clarke?’ I asked. ‘Is everything alright?’
Her head turned and her tear-wet eyes blinked at me. ‘Yes. Yes. Everything is alright.’ She pointed helplessly at Julian’s gravestone. ‘I know he’s not there any more, but I don’t know where he is and I have to come somewhere. Maybe he can still hear me. Maybe he knows I still care.’
‘I’m sure he does know that.’
She gave me a grateful, watery smile. ‘Are you any closer to finding him?’ she asked. ‘The woman I spoke to this morning said the investigation was ongoing, but she wouldn’t tell me any more than that. Why did she ask me about Julian’s necklace?’
‘We’re investigating every angle and ensuring we have all the details, relevant or otherwise.’ I bit my lip. ‘But I can tell you that we’re close to identifying a suspect. There is also the possibility that Julian’s death wasn’t an accident.’
Mrs Clarke didn’t gasp or cry; all she did was offer a small smile. ‘I knew it,’ she said, without a trace of triumph. ‘I knew it all along. Who is it? Who killed my boy?’
‘It’s only conjecture at the moment. There’s no proof.’
Her voice hardened. ‘Tell me.’
‘We believe it’s a man called Edward Nappey. He’s not a werewolf and he’s not supernatural. He’s human, through and through. We’re trying to locate him. We will find him, Mrs Clarke. Hopefully then I’ll be able to give you some answers.’
She turned away so I couldn’t see her face. ‘Did he steal Julian away? Did he take my son from his grave?’
‘It’s highly likely. He targeted this particular graveyard. We think that several werewolf graves were attacked over a number of years. We’re waiting on further exhumations for confirmation.’
Her shoulders stiffened. ‘Several graves?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
A few raindrops started to fall, soaking the ground by our feet. Neither Mrs Clarke nor I made any move to take shelter.
‘Thank you, Detective Bellamy,’ Mrs Clarke said. She sounded distant. ‘I appreciate your honesty and all the work you’ve put in on our behalf. You didn’t have to do this for us, not after what we did to you. No matter what happens, you have my gratitude.’
I was only doing my job, but she didn’t want to hear that. Not right now. ‘I’ll leave you in peace. I’ll be in touch once I have some definite information.’
Mrs Clarke’s head dipped further but she didn’t speak. I hovered for another moment then stepped back and went into the church.
From the various buckets placed on the stone flagstones, it looked like it wasn’t much drier inside than it was outside in the rain. I scanned the empty pews. Perhaps I’d missed Lukas and he’d been and gone. I hoped that in my absence he’d managed to be polite to Reverend Knight. A vampire Lord and church vicar might not be natural friends, but I liked to think that the pair of them could be civil.
Then I heard a roar from somewhere beyond the altar and I froze. Uh-oh.
Worried now, I hastily located the small wooden door leading to the annexe at the side of the church. I marched over and opened it, just as there was a second loud roar. With my heart in my mouth, I jogged down the corridor. It looked like there was a small office at the far end. My hand twitched, already reaching for the crossbow which still lay across my back. When I reached the office and peered in, however, the sight that greeted my eyes was the last thing I could have expected.
Lukas and Reverend Knight were sitting side by side behind the vicar’s messy desk. Knight’s face was suffused with red – but not with anger. As far as I could tell, they were both struggling to contain their laughter.
‘And then,’ Lukas said, apparently delivering a punchline, ‘the edge of his cassock caught one of the candle flames and … whoof!’
Knight couldn’t stop himself. He roared again, doubling over as if in pain. Lukas glanced at me and winked. I didn’t feel amusement, though; I just felt chilled.
‘Having fun?’ I enquired.
Reverend Knight jumped and, wiping his eyes, got up to his feet. ‘DC Bellamy,’ he said. ‘You made it! Good to see you.’ He reached forward and enveloped me in a tight and wholly unexpected hug. I stood stiffly until he released me. ‘We were discussing old times,’ he told me. ‘Lord Horvath has some fascinating stories to tell about my many predecessors in this church.’
‘Does he?’ I murmured.
‘Yes. Yes.’ He nodded enthusiastically. ‘Quite extraordinary.’ He looked at Lukas. ‘I hope that we can have a better relationship.’
Lukas smiled. ‘I’m sure that we can. You’re a shrewd, intelligent man. I’m glad you’re here.’ He glanced round. ‘Do you know, this is the first time I’ve ever been inside this church in all the time I’ve lived here. You are a true man of the people, Reverend Knight. I think that we can expect things to be much better, going forward.’
‘Me too. Me too.’ The reverend grabbed Lukas’s hand and pumped it. ‘This has been a most wonderful afternoon.’ He grinned at me. ‘Watch this, Detective.’ He picked up a small wooden crucifix from his desk and gave it to Lukas. Lukas closed his fingers round it. ‘See?’ Knight crowed.
‘Uh…’
‘No burning!’
Lukas opened his palm.
‘Not even a mark!’ Knight beamed.
‘Okay.’ I scratched my head. ‘Good.’
Lukas returned the crucifix to the desk. ‘Now that you’re here, D’Artagnan, why don’t we examine the graveyard? It would be good to check the layout of the graves that have been disturbed and get an idea about how Nappey approached them.’
‘Yeah,’ I said slowly. ‘Okay.’
The three of us trooped outside with Reverend Knight leading the way. Behind his back, Lukas raised a questioning eyebrow and I managed a tight smile in response. He frowned. He knew I was upset about something but he couldn’t tell what.
There was no longer any sign of Mrs Clarke, which was definitely a good thing. I doubted that she would be comforted by the sight of a vampire wandering around what should have been her son’s resting place.
It was raining a lot harder now, big fat droplets splashing into puddles. With the sky darkening as night drew in, the graveyard was becoming an even creepier place.
‘Are you alright?’ Lukas asked in a low voice. ‘I know this is where you were killed the first time, Emma. If you’d prefer to wait outside the gate…’
‘I’m fine.’ I tucked my hair behind my ears and raised my chin. ‘I’ve come to terms with what happened. No trauma.’
Lukas’s expression didn’t change. ‘Okay. If you change your mind, say the word.’
I nodded tightly and put my hands in my pockets. Reverend Knight stopped at a grave at the far end, closest to the wrought-iron fence that closed off the churchyard on its northern side. The rain was plastering his hair to his skull and his expression was much more sombre. ‘There have been two definite disturbances since I started my tenure. Here,’ he pointed down, ‘and over there.’
I followed his finger then turned and glanced at the spot where Julian Clarke’s grave was.
‘The other disturbances occurred before you were posted here?’ Lukas asked.
‘Yes. Reverend Baxter showed me where.’
‘He was your immediate predecessor?’
Knight nodded.
‘And what was his take on things?’
The Reverend’s eyes slid away. ‘He was an old-fashioned sort. He’d been here for decades. He didn’t have many good things to say about the supernatural community.’
‘Mm.’ Lukas dipped his head grimly in acknowledgement. ‘Our paths only crossed a few times and they were never pleasant encounters. It’s a shame. You’re obviously a different man. I think we can work together far more productively.’
Even through the rain, I could see that Knight was pleased. ‘I hope so,’ he murmured. ‘I really do.’
My brow creased. ‘If Baxter despised the supernatural community so much, why did he agree to werewolves being buried here?’
‘He didn’t want to agree but he didn’t have much choice. The church authorities told him he couldn’t deny the werewolves their one last shot at redemption. After all,’ Knight added with a brief laugh, ‘as you said yourself, DC Bellamy, we all have a capacity for evil. We are all sinners, each and every one of us.’
‘Never was a truer word spoken.’ Lukas swivelled round. He was only wearing a white shirt, and the rain was soaking it through and moulding it to his body. ‘Stay here,’ he instructed. ‘I want to check something.’ He strode out of the churchyard.
‘He’s not at all what I expected, you know,’ the reverend said to me. ‘Lord Horvath is very charming.’
‘Yes,’ I said distantly. ‘He is.’ I was keen to keep the conversation away from Lukas. ‘Was it Reverend Baxter who told you that it was ghouls who were disturbing the graves?’
‘Oh yes.’ Knight nodded. ‘He showed me all the records. He said that I should report it to the church but that I should be careful if I ever saw them.’ He shuddered. ‘They’re dangerous creatures.’
I thought about Albert Finnegan; there was nothing remotely dangerous about him. Maybe I should take it as a fascinating exercise into how our misconceptions could shape not just our beliefs but our actions as well. Instead, I simply found it depressing.
Lukas called out from the other side of the church fence, ‘Try walking forward. Move to Julian Clarke’s grave. And then the others.’
Knight and I did as he asked. After a few moments watching us, Lukas returned. The rusty iron gate squeaked on its hinges as he pushed through it. ‘It’s raining and it’s getting dark.’ He frowned. ‘The conditions are much like they were on the nights when the graves were attacked.’
‘And?’ I questioned. ‘Could you see us from the street?’
‘Barely. I think you were right before – it’s conceivable that someone could dig down to the coffins without anyone noticing. It wouldn’t be easy, and they’d need some way to transport the bodies out of here, but it is possible. They could park right at the entrance.’
‘It would be risky, even in bad weather. We’re still in the centre of London.’ I shrugged. ‘But I can’t see any other explanation.’
‘Edward Nappey got rid of his car,’ Lukas said. ‘I wonder if he has another vehicle hidden away somewhere – a van of some description.’
It would make sense, and it also gave us something to work with. At this stage, I’d take anything that might give us a clue about the bastard’s whereabouts.
‘I’ll put Liza onto it,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing registered in his name but we know where he’s been. If he had a van when he went after Moira, it might have been captured on CCTV.’ I looked round. ‘And there’s always the chance that there are some cameras near here that picked it up.’ Frustration gnawed at me. I had no doubt that we’d catch up to Ted Nappey eventually but I needed it to be much sooner rather than later.
Lukas and I said our farewells to Reverend Knight and left the church. I walked absent-mindedly to Tallulah, pretending not to notice the hawk-eyed way Lukas was watching me.
‘Was there any trouble with the werewolves?’ he asked.
An image of Devereau Webb hugging his niece flashed into my mind’s eye. ‘Not really.’ I glanced at him. ‘The minimum age for turning someone into a vampire is eighteen, right? Have you ever broken that rule?’
Lukas stiffened. ‘Is that an accusation?’
I blinked. ‘No. Just…’ I searched for the right words. ‘Call it curiosity. I’m not fishing for details of illegal activity, Lukas. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.’
His black eyes seared into me. ‘We’ve not broken that rule for more than two hundred years. It exists for very good reasons.’ He paused. ‘Why do you ask? Because if the clans are thinking about turning someone below the minimum age, there are going to be problems.’
‘They’re not.’
‘Then why ask the question?’
I sighed. ‘It’s a long story and it’s not relevant to what’s going on with Ted Nappey. Forget I asked.’ I turned away but Lukas moved and barred my path, looming over me.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing’s happened.’
He ground his teeth in frustration. ‘Something is wrong. Since you walked into that damned church you’ve been looking at me strangely, like I’ve done something to offend you.’
My turbulent thoughts had been more obvious than I’d realised. ‘It’s nothing.’
‘Clearly it’s not nothing.’ His gaze intensified. ‘Tell me.’
I twisted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. There was value in being truthful; as a detective I knew that more than most. But there was also value in knowing when to stay quiet. In the end, however, I didn’t need to answer because Lukas did it for me.
‘Ah,’ he said. He nodded. ‘You weren’t expecting me to get on with Knight. You asked me to talk to him, but it bothers you that we weren’t at each other’s throats. You think that because he’s a man of God and I’m a vampire we should be natural enemies.’
The fact that I didn’t say anything was answer enough.
‘I didn’t become Lord because of birth right, nor because of force. I’m good at what I do. The ability to charm is an important part of that.’
‘Uh-huh. I get it. You’re a vampire. Your charm is part of your nature. You use it to get what you want. It’s a part of you, in the same way that a werewolf has claws. Charm someone enough, and they’ll open their veins for you.’
He continued to watch me. ‘Not everything is about blood, D’Artagnan. After all, I want to charm you and we both know that I’ve already had a brief taste of your blood and it wasn’t to my liking.’
He was referring to several weeks earlier, when he’d used his tongue on my skin to heal some wounds. ‘You want to charm me?’ I folded my arms, feeling my hackles rise for no reason that I could adequately define.
‘Not for the reasons you think.’ His eyes glittered. ‘In fact, my real motive might surprise you. I’m not using you because you happen to be in Supe Squad. I’m not using you at all. And I can assure you that my relationship with Tony, your predecessor, was nothing like,’ he gestured between us, ‘this.’
Whatever this was. ‘People keep warning me off you.’
Momentary anger flashed across his face. ‘Who? What people?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ I exhaled. ‘I like you, Lukas. I trust you.’ Up to a point, anyway. ‘You’ve helped me before, and I know you’re grieving for Moira. You want to catch her killer as much, if not more, than I do.’
‘That much is true.’ He didn’t take his eyes off mine. ‘I’m not an evil creature from the pages of a horror story, Emma. I might be the big bad vampire Lord but you’re safe with me. I promise you that.’ He stepped back. ‘Perhaps some breathing space wouldn’t go amiss,’ he murmured, as much to himself as to me. ‘Rain check until tomorrow?’
I shifted my weight from foot to foot. That was probably a good idea. I stared at him, wishing I knew what to say. Eventually I nodded dumbly. So much for Emma Bellamy, the ultra-confident detective with amazing truth-seeking skills.
‘Stop fretting,’ Lukas murmured. ‘Sometimes you think too much.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Adieu.’ He paused. ‘For now.’ A moment later, he whirled away into the darkening night.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I touched base with Fred and Liza before heading home for a rest. After the conversation with Lukas, my thoughts were in turmoil. I was indeed thinking far too much about everything he’d said.
I needed to focus on the case, but it didn’t help that DSI Barnes had called several times, haranguing Liza for updates on the investigation. I didn’t need reminding that this was the first real crime that Supe Squad had been responsible for solving in decades. In recent years, ei
ther the supes had taken charge or investigations had been passed to CID.
I knew without talking to Barnes that if I screwed this up and didn’t find Ted Nappey soon, the same thing would happen again. Despite the inroads I’d made with the supes, failure to capture Nappey would have desperate ramifications. Unfortunately it felt like we were no further forward than we had been twelve hours earlier. Then again, a lot could change within a twelve-hour period. I knew that better than anyone. Anything could happen from here on in.
I had to clear my mind then come at everything from a new angle. I locked my door, headed straight for my bedroom and curled up on the bed without taking off my clothes. I closed my eyes and tried to relax. All I had to do was empty my mind.
The pillow was cool and comforting and it was good to lie down. I needed this.
Less than a minute later, my eyes snapped open again.
I sprang off the bed and went into the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face before dabbing it with a towel, then leaned my hands on the sink and gazed into the mirror. I had the beginnings of a spot flaring up in the centre of my forehead. As I stared at the angry red bump, my thoughts flitted around my skull like a cloud of nervous butterflies.
A moment later, I pushed myself back and whirled round, pausing only to grab my jacket to ward off the cool night air. I took three steps down the corridor and towards the stairs before turning back. It wasn’t smart to be out and about at this hour without some sort of protection.
I’d finished strapping the crossbow to my back and was striding out again when I heard a set of heavy footsteps clumping up the stairs. My heart sank; there was no doubt who it was. When the slack face of Will, my neighbour, appeared, I did my best to smile. From the wafting smell of old beer, he’d been enjoying a night on the town.
He grunted when he saw me. ‘Oh.’ His lip curled. ‘It’s you.’
I was tempted to brush past him with a curt greeting but he was my neighbour. I wasn’t moving to another flat any time soon – and neither was he. The least I could do was to try and improve our touchy relationship.