The Case of the Parisian Vendetta: A Mark Julian Vampire PI Mystery #10 (Mark Julian Vampire PI Mysteries)

by L. G. Fabbo-Gonnella

  Mark suppressed a look of suspicion about those remarks. Something in him tingled as he considered that statement. The private eye in him knew he had to find out more on that subject from his friend. Mark also realized that his next words had to be carefully chosen before he said them. He had just reconciled with his friend. This was not the right time to broach something that might end in another disagreement. “I’m happy for you,” he slowly said. “I’m no Christian but if it helps you in these troubling times then I support it.”

  “It does Mark,” the werewolf answered with energetic enthusiasm. As he spoke, Jean-Claude recalled about how amazing he felt after every such session. A part of him suddenly remembered that he should to get back to the office so he could make his daily conference with the Spaniard. For some reason he started experiencing a vague antsy sensation about being late for the meeting. He gazed at Mark and smiled. “It … I never felt so great as I do now when I receive the sacraments from him. I look forward to it in fact!”

  “Well that’s good, though I don’t know how you stand that aide of his,” Mark joked. “I swear the guy undresses you with his eyes. Not to mention that creepy touchy-feely thing he does whenever he is close to you.”

  “Screw that bastard,” Jean-Claude angrily muttered as images of the aide came into his mind. For some reason Jean-Claude now felt sick to his stomach. He poured another drink and quickly consumed it. Unconsciously, his desire to see Tortego and find mental peace once more increased. A tremor went through him.

  Mark saw the sudden change in his friend. “You okay,” he asked.

  Jean-Claude blinked then shook the sensation off. “No I’m cool,” he unconvincingly laughed as he abruptly stood up. A part of him now strongly wanted to get to his office to meet with the Spaniard. “How about the four of us get together for dinner tonight?” he eagerly asked. “Say yes. It will be just like old times. You can pick me up at my office and we will get our spouses. I really need to get back to work. The war and critical things need to be addressed. But let’s agree on a dinner, right.” He gazed at the door. He felt sweaty. He suddenly reached to the brandy and poured himself another drink. “So it is set. All four of us go to dinner,” he feebly replied before he gulped its contents down.

  “Sounds good,” Mark responded as he got off his chair. He could sense his friend’s anxiety and took note that Jean-Claude had just consumed three drinks in rapid succession. In their prior get-togethers, his friend barely consumed more than two drinks and had never done it so quickly. War nerves, he told himself. Needs to unwind. Not a big deal.

  “I’m happy we … you know,” Jean-Claude said as he gave his friend a warm embrace. “I’ve got to get back. This damned war and there are people that need to be seen too,” he stated. By now his mind was fixated on seeing Tortego.

  “Me too,” Mark stated as they left the kitchen area. “See you in a few hours.” He could sense that his friend was distracted but chalked it up to Jean-Claude’s war responsibilities. Yet, something rang an alarm inside of him.

  Events Speed Up

  The second Jean-Claude arrived at his office he asked his secretary to call Tortego. He anxiously waited the vampire’s presence. When Tortego arrived he was pleased to observe a subtle sign of desperation in Jean-Claude. He listened as the kneeling werewolf recited some stupid failing then tried not to smirk as the now visible twitchy Jean-Claude took a now strongly drug laced communion wine. Seconds later the vampire took note of the slight glassy look that flooded into Jean-Claude’s green eyes.

  “Feeling better Jean-Claude,” Tortego inquired as he put away the chalice. This is working out nicely, he thought. I give you just enough of a dose in your morning coffee to instill a light sensation of euphoria in you for any meetings with your morning visitors then, a stronger amount later in the day so I can easily manipulate you into doing whatever I need you to do. He looked at the bleary eyed Jean-Claude. “I asked you a question. Are you feeling better my son?’

  “Yes very much at ease,” Jean-Claude mumbled. He was totally relaxed reflecting the effects of the substance inside of him. A goofy smile came to his face. “Very much at ease Father.”

  Tortego waited knowing that for the next ten minutes or so Jean-Claude would be too high to participate in any meaningful conversation. As he waited for the werewolf to come down he thought about the recent close call. He had initially worried about the incident involving Jean-Claude and his aide. When he had walked in today he waited to see if something would be mentioned. He was relieved when Jean-Claude had not said anything or even asked about the aide. Clearly nothing amiss had resulted from that encounter. The vampire sat reading reports while the werewolf drifted off happily oblivious to all around him. “Sign these new assignment orders,” Tortego said at one point taking pleasure in how compliant the drugged Jean-Claude was when he was out-of-it.

  With his judgment still drug impaired, the werewolf signed where he was instructed. He was unaware that the documents he was signing were shifting personnel around the government. Tortego grinned as he watched Jean-Claude scribble his name on each paper. Tortego knew that soon all his allies would hold all the key spots of power. Until now, only the security forces had been left untouched by Tortego’s staff changes. These orders would correct that issue. By rights Julio should be the first to go but the priest knew a transfer involving him would raise an alarm with Jaime. A different method was called for to accomplish that end. For now getting one of his friends into the vacant second-in-command slot would suffice. Jean-Claude’s eyes began to refocus. The vampire smiled and settled back into a nearby chair. He began chatting about how he agreed with the shifts in personnel the werewolf had insisted upon. He wanted Jean-Claude to think they were in the midst of a conversation about it when the latter finally came down off his high. More importantly, he desired that the werewolf believe such actions were his idea.

  ****

  As Mark rode the subway to his offices, his mind replayed his time with Jean-Claude. His vampire senses had detected that by the end of their encounter his friend’s heart had been beating faster. Also, Jean-Claude’s mood had undergone a noticeable, if subtle, shift. Well maybe he was happy we resolved our issues and besides he is under a strain over this war and a possible leak, he unconvincingly told himself. Yet, Jean-Claude had also seemed slightly over-energized and, even more concerning for Mark, was the unsettling reaction Jean-Claude had when the subject of Tortego’s aide came up in their conversation. He resolved to inquire further into that matter. Although he had nothing solid upon which to base it, he believed something sinister was taking place at the sessions between his friend and the former Inquisitor. It fits into my investigation anyway, Mark silently told himself as he formulated a plan of action. “Besides my gut tells me Julio’s mission for me is somehow connected to what is happening in that office!”

  ****

  A fuming Tortego paced in his private offices. His meeting with Jean-Claude had raised a host of potential problems. First, the werewolf surprised him during his confession by happily telling the vampire about how he had finally patched up things with Mark Julian. That choice bit of news does not bode well, he thought. Julian is too smart not to eventually suspect something. I better be sure I have a contingency plan, he silently decided. Tortego was also concerned the increased drug dosages were causing an unexpected complications for him. “It is taking longer and longer for Jean-Claude to come off that high,” he grumbled. “Waiting in his offices with him until he is capable of being seen by others is becoming too time consuming.” He shook his head and sighed. “I may have to speed up events.

  “I also have to do something about my aide,” he muttered as he recalled Jean-Claude’s powerful reaction today when the aide unexpectedly brought in the wine. Jean-Claude had been overtly hostile towards the man. At one point he violently reacted when the aide accidentally drew too physically close to him. “Obvious Jean-Claude must subconsciously recall his prior encounter with that degenerate!�
� Tortego angrily snared. “I told that idiot aide of mine to keep a distance from the wolf and he completely disregarded my instructions. I wonder what else he may be doing contrary to my instructions or, more troubling, without my knowledge? Always going over reports without asking my permission. That man is a liability that I must address,” he growled.

  Still right now the former Inquisitor knew his man problem was Mark Julian. “He bears watching. If he even suspects something he will screw this up for me. If he finds out I made his friend a drug addict and tells Jaime.” He paused as he recalled what she had once shown him in Hell’s Kitchen. His face grew pale. Instinctively he reached for a rosary he kept in one of his pants pockets. Silently he made the sign of the cross with it and began praying.

  ****

  Mark arrived at the Supernatural Council’s main offices at lunchtime. He immediately made his way to the cafeteria to find the first name on the list of suspects: Jean-Claude’s private secretary, Anole.

  As he suspected, the seventy-nine year old werewolf was having a leisurely lunch with her friends. Mark sat in a corner drinking a bottle of blood that the cafeteria’s food service provided for the office’s vampire staff. As he drank, he thought about what he knew about her. Anole had been with Jean-Claude for years. Before that she had been Jean-Claude’s father’s private secretary. When Jean-Claude made a run for office she was right there at his side serving in the same capacity that she had with the elder leader of the Roué clan. In many ways she thought of Jean-Claude as her son rather than her employer and Jean-Claude adored her too. When it came to Jean-Claude, she was his fiercest defender against any criticism.

  Mark could not believe she would betray Jean-Claude by leaking war plans to an enemy. Still, Mark always believed a good investigator checks into every possibility even if it is a remote one. He firmly lived by the rule that when one assumes and doesn’t check you begin the first steps of becoming a sloppy private investigator. On the plus side, if anyone knew about what went on with her boss and Tortego, she would know it. A casual encounter with her was not a totally wasted effort. She was the person to talk with about this issue. Unfortunately Anole was well known to be as silent as a tomb.

  Finally lunch appeared to be over. Anole and her friends stood up and cleaned off any refuse they had left on the table. Mark knew now was the time to approach her. I have to try to get her to open up, Mark thought as he walked towards the secretary. He waved and put on his most seductive smile. She glanced up and smiled back at him.

  “Hello Mark,” Anole warmly said. “We have missed you,” she added with equal affection.

  Mark felt pinpricks of guilt as he stood in front of her. He hated being deceptive with her. “I have missed you both too. I saw Jean-Claude today so all is well between us.”

  “Yes so I’ve been told,” she melodiously laughed. “He told me the good news when he arrived here after lunch. I’m happy. Jean-Claude has not been the same since that breach with you. Maybe other things will now work themselves out.” She stared at Mark. A distinct look came into her golden hued eyes as she spoke those last words. It spoke volumes. She was troubled.

  “Anole what is wrong?” Mark asked. He was unsure if the rail thin secretary would talk to him about whatever bothered her. Mark was certain it was about his friend and Tortego. “Does it involve Tortego?” He waited to let Anole decide for herself if she would break her code of discretion.

  Anole looked around the lunchroom. “Would you care for a stroll to help me digest my food,” she quietly inquired. “The atrium looks particularly lovely right now and I could use the exercise.”

  Mark took the hint and fell into step with her as she began walking towards the secluded area.

  The gardens that made up the office’s huge atrium had been her idea. Under Tortego, it had been a desolate dirt enclosure. She had requested something be done about its condition shortly after Jean-Claude had come into power as the government’s chief executive. An avid gardener in her spare time, Anole had supervised every one of the plantings. Exotic blooms from all over the world thrived in the large glass covered area that was heated to keep temperatures just right to enable the plantings to thrive. Thanks to a wizard, the gardens even had internal late night rains. As they walked Anole said nothing. Then she stopped, looked at Mark and spoke.

  “I think something bad is happening between him and that priest,’ she softly said.

  “I think so as well,” Mark replied.

  Tears came to her eyes. “I’ve known mon trésor since he was a baby,” she said affectionately using her private French nickname of my treasure, for him. “He was only five years old when his mother died. Her death greatly affected him. He used to be outgoing but after that loss he began to emotional close down. When he was hurting Jean-Claude would bottle it up inside of him so it would not show to anyone. His father loved him but did not know how to deal with his grieving child. So he turned to me for help with his son. It took time but mon trésor soon began to open up with me. In time he came to me for advice and comfort.” She smiled then continued. “He is a naturally caring person. Once someone has his love he would walk through fire for that person. Consenting to his cousin’s nearly killed him.”

  She saw the pained look on Mark’s face. “No you did not want that to happen but that doesn’t mean it did not cause Jean-Claude grief and pain. He loved his cousin.” She stopped speaking, took a deep breath, and then spoke. “He was a bad one,” she spat out. “No do not look so surprised. I was around when Sebastian would visit. I saw them interact. Sebastian loved Jean-Claude but I always sensed that there was something obsessively sick about it. He would monopolize Jean-Claude time and get angry if he wasn’t the center of his cousin’s attention. He could also be viciously cruel to others when Jean-Claude was not around. He would torment people and smile while doing it. Being a killer did not surprise me at all. I do not mourn his death only what it did to my Jean-Claude. But I have strayed from what you asked me. Yes, you are right to be concerned. I’m worried about him. Very worried. He acts differently now. His moods shift and lately he has become visibly tense and irritable just before every afternoon visit with that priest.” She again paused.

  Mark realized she was still struggling with whether to continue her story. “I love him too Anole,” Mark quietly told her as he gently took one of her hands. “Help me.”

  Anole began to lightly cry. She pulled a delicate embroidered handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed her eyes. “He is usually a bit stressed till he has his morning cup of coffee. I make sure the cafeteria has it sent up just after he arrives for work. He seems to be calmer once he has his coffee. By lunch however, he is very much on edge waiting for Tortego to come to see him. They stay in that office for hours now. I cannot get in to see him. I was told by that Spanish bast ...,“ she paused to compose herself then continued. “I must put off anyone who tries to call for him or comes by to see him during those meetings. I once asked Jean-Claude about it he smiled and said Tortego was merely being overprotecting but I should do as he asked,” she stammered. By now she was speaking faster as if she was in a rush to finally vent her thoughts out in the open. “Something is not right. After Tortego would leave Jean-Claude always seemed different. He was clearly not himself.”

  “In what way?” Mark pressed.

  “He would be unfocused. He was too calmly lethargic about things. A few days ago Tortego called me into Jean-Claude office. He told me I was not to enter this room under any circumstances. Jean-Claude was there with him and he said nothing to me. He didn’t even face me. He just sat there with his back to me gazing at a wall. That is not like him Mark. Something goes on in there and it is not solely religious.” Anole briskly stated

  “Religious. I’m sorry what is that about?” Mark quizzed.

  “Oh the meetings are for mon trésor’s daily confessions.” Anole answered. Mark gazed at her with a puzzled expression on his face. She quickly explained the basis for Tortego’s every day visit
s. “Jean-Claude was always too Roman Catholic for my taste. Comes from his father. Our traditional religion being rigidly followed is his motto for living a proper life,” she sniffed. “I find comfort in the faith but I try not to go overboard. Jean-Claude was always a good Roman Catholic boy but lately he has become obsessive about the sacrament of Penance.” She told Mark about what had been occurring along with what she observed every afternoon after Tortego left Jean-Claude’s offices. Mark let her speak. Occasionally he interrupted her to clarify something or to ask for more detail about Jean-Claude’s attitude and his outward physical condition after the visits. In the end he had what he needed to know.

  The two of them walked Anole back to her desk. Mark took her hand and affectionately squeezed it. “It will be fine,” he assured her with more confidence than he really felt about things. The private eye scratched her off his suspect list. She loved Jean-Claude. She would not betray him. He spent some time at the water cooler gathering more information. By the time he left however, he was convinced his concerns about Tortego and his friend’s relationship were justified and he needed to act on it.

  ****

  “Look I did some further checking around after my talk with Anole about Jean-Claude,” Mark said to Vinnie as they sat in their briefs eating breakfast in their East Village apartment. “They have a set daily routine. Tortego has an afternoon visit with Jean-Claude. The staff is sent on an extended lunch. When they return later Tortego leaves.”

  “So,” a skeptical Vinnie asked.

  “So, according to Jean-Claude’s secretary after that meeting our friend is a different guy.” Mark stated.

  “As in?” Vinnie quizzed.

  “As in,” Mark continued saying as he warmed up to his subject. “Just before Tortego sees Jean-Claude our friend is on edge. Afterwards he is changed.” Mark’s features took on a grim look. “I know that son-of-a-bitch Tortego is doing something during those sessions. I intend to find out what that is? Besides,” Mark added. “I’m now convinced this situation with that bastard Tortego and that security leak are tied in together on some level. Only six people knew those plans that were found on that French spy. Obviously I counted out Julio and you as suspects. That leaves only Jean-Claude and…” he paused.