“… from the land of which was mine…” The man was still going. Alex realized he had been ignoring him, but the man continued, “… to the land of Canaan.”
Alex stood up. He saw Stephanie Garza just getting back to the desk where she’d set up camp. She had a cup of coffee in her hand, but looked like she was going to fall asleep on her feet.
“Garza. Can you handle this guy for me?”
Stephanie gave him a terrible look.
“Something’s come up.”
“Abraham” began getting agitated. “You do not wish to speak to me?”
“Sure, sure. Detective Garza wants to hear all about it.”
Alex walked away and left Stephanie to deal with the man. He crossed the room quickly and reached Trent just as he finished entering whatever information he had into the computer.
“I know that look, Trent, what’ve you got?”
“Alex. Good. Good. I didn’t have to come find you. I’m going to want you in there with me when we talk to these guys. Can you believe it? We might actually have him.”
“The real Abraham? No shit? That’s awful lucky.”
“No luck about it. We were following up on a tip. The tipster has been calling all day repeatedly, but because of all this noise, we hadn’t gotten to him yet. He had real detailed knowledge. Might be one of Abraham’s own crew getting a guilty conscience. Anyway, we roll up on these guys just as they’re finishing loading up a van. Looks like they were about to do the bug-out boogie, right? Hadn’t even ID’d ourselves and two of them surrender.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. I think they knew what was up. Also, I think three of them are just accomplices. Not hard-core enough to be the real deal. But the last guy. Wow. Anyway, what a find. Their van, loaded with countervampire shit. Nothing pro, homemade improvised crap for the most part. But I’ll be really surprised if all the evidence we need isn’t in there.”
“Dropped right in our lap?” Alex’s instincts told him something was wrong.
“Hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right?”
“Right.”
“Anyway. They fit the profile. They’re all European. We got two Brits, a German—he’s the real deal, I think—and a woman. Can’t pin down her accent though, something Scandinavian, I’d guess. She doesn’t talk much. She had this look in her eye like she’d just as soon tear out my throat as talk to me. Strong for her size, too, and not a little bit crazy. Took three agents to subdue her. If I didn’t know better, I’d have bet money she was a thrope. But she popped negative. Hoping Interpol or ICE will have their prints on file.”
The computer kept churning through the search.
“We’re moving them to the interview rooms right now. We need something more concrete as fast as we can get it. That’s why I want you in there. I remember how you’d get us stuff from the old days. Figure we should be able to make an announcement to the media before nightfall with any luck. Maybe save some lives. You still got it in you?”
“Sure. But you don’t think people will actually believe it? There’ll be pundits out there saying that we’ll say anything to prevent another family-slaughter video from hitting the Internet. And they’d be right.”
“Christ, Alex. Do you ever look at the upside? Who cares if these guys are the real Abraham? We have credible suspects dropped in our laps. We’ll put them on parade if we have to. Anything to calm people down. The city’s already going nuts. There’s no telling what will happen after dark. We’ve got to get on the same page here.”
Just then, the computer beeped with the indication that they had received a hit on one of the suspects.
“Well, look at that, our German friend Roeland Jaap is in the system.”
“Lucky us.” Alex looked over Trent’s shoulder.
Trent was skipping down the profile. “Sealed jacket? What’s the deal with that? Oh, this guy used to be law enforcement.”
Alex had seen something else. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?
“He’s not German, he’s Dutch. Now we’re on the same page. I think you might be right.”
“What? What did you see?” Trent asked.
“Don’t you feds read your own profiles?”
30
Roeland Jaap. Alex stared at him through the one-way mirror. Handcuffed and hunched over, he didn’t look like a serial killer. Then again, outside of the movies, serial killers didn’t really look like serial killers. This guy looked like an accountant. Except his arms gave him away as someone who worked out, a lot. He had a defeated air about him, as if he had known this moment was inevitable and was simply a matter of time.
“How do you want to play this?”
“Well, if he’s former law enforcement he’s gonna know the tricks. I think we just have to go in straight. If he is our guy he won’t get intimidated easily.”
Alex nodded. “Any luck with his sealed jacket?”
“Nothing yet. But this has to be our guy, right?”
“There’re some signs, but it’s still long odds.” Alex sighed. “Okay then, might as well get started. The second my partner shows up, I’m bailing. We have cases of our own we’re working, you know. Much as I’d like to sit here and help you feds babysit.”
“Hey, are far as we’re concerned this is still Miami-Dade’s. We’re here to assist, not to run things.”
“Look around. If you’re not going to run it, no one will.”
Trent didn’t say anything.
“We’re just wasting time now, right? Let’s get in there.”
“Your DA wants us to wait. Wants to be here, afraid he’ll lawyer up.”
Alex gave Trent a knowing look, “I bet the DA wants us to wait. Who’s pulling the DA’s strings? The Lightbearers want first crack at him. Look at him. He knows he’s screwed. He’s smart enough to know this will never see the inside of a courtroom. Best case, he cuts a deal, worst case, the vampires get to him before he can. Either way, I’m betting he never lawyers up.”
“Okay. If we’re betting on the profile, our guy’s just begging for someone to listen to his story.”
“Let’s give him the chance to tell it. I’m not going to sit on my hands waiting for the DA. Sooner we’re done with this, the better.”
Alex opened the door and put on his most affable demeanor. Trent followed him into the cramped white-walled room. They both sat down. Roeland didn’t even look up.
“Hello, Mr. Jaap. Am I saying that right? Do you mind if I call you Roeland? I’m Detective Alex Romer, with Nocturn Affairs, and this is Special Agent Trent Summers with the FBI.” Alex engaged him and managed to get him to look up.
“Is there anything I can get you? Something to drink? Eat?”
“No.” The man’s voice was scarcely a whisper.
“Look, we’re all cops here, right? Between us, we’re not entirely unsympathetic to your cause.” No reaction. Trent looked at Alex.
“Off the record, you caused a mess with your choice of name. I don’t even know how many guys we had walking in here claiming to be you. A lot of ’em played up the Old Testament angle. You know, out of the sixty or so crazies turning themselves in, and all the tips that came in, not one picked up on the right angle. How weird is that, huh?”
“I guess people don’t read much anymore,” Trent added.
Alex picked up a sheet of paper and drew Abraham’s symbol. As he drew it, he spoke out the initials that, overlaid on one another, formed the symbol “A. V. H.”
He pushed the paper at Roeland.
“Abraham Van Helsing. The greatest fictional vampire hunter ever. Tell me, did you pick that because of your nationality?”
Finally, Roeland looked up. “Fitting, don’t you think?” His accent was not as pronounced as Alex expected.
“Yeah. I mean, it’s a cinch. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, you know?”
Trent put the folder with the information they had on the table. “What’s the deal with the sealed jacket?”<
br />
Roeland stared at him blankly.
“Come on, we’ve got the queries in to Interpol, it’s just a matter of time.”
“You know, Roeland, you had to know this was coming. I mean, there are only two ways your little crusade was going to end, right? Either we catch you, or the sangers do. I’m thinking you’re better off in our hands at the end of the day.”
Roeland laughed. “It amounts to the same thing. How long do you think the vampires will let me stay here before they come to dig their claws into me?”
“We’re not going to let that happen. They want a piece of you, sure. I mean you killed, what, fifty-six at last count?”
“More.”
“Well, the number really doesn’t matter at this point, right? In for a dime, in for a dollar.”
Roeland laughed again. “You have no idea what you’re up against.”
“You might be surprised. But why don’t you enlighten us?” Alex got no reaction.
Trent decided to try a different tactic. “Okay, if you don’t want to talk to us, there are folks talking to your compadres. You might be a hard-ass but I bet this…” He made a show of looking at the file. “Rhuna Gallier. She’s what, all of twenty-three? She’ll crack in no time. I wonder what stories she’ll tell.”
“Knock yourselves out. They don’t know anything. They’ve got nothing to do with this.”
Trent looked at Alex. This wasn’t going the way they’d hoped.
Alex decided he’d try one more nice-guy tactic. “Roeland. Say you’re right. Say the sangers are going to get to you no matter what we do. There’s no point in stonewalling us, right? You’re telling us they have nothing to do with any of this. We both know that’s bullshit. But if that’s the story you want to tell, we have to get in front of this. There’s no reason your people have to go down with you. As far as people outside this room need to know, you worked alone.”
Trent followed along. “That’s right. Those other folks were just helping you load the van or whatever. They’re not in the system. The sangers don’t need to know about them. We can make up something.”
Alex nodded. “We’re not trying to bullshit you here. You know just as we do what we need right now is a trophy. Unfortunately for you, you fit that bill gift-wrapped with a bow on your head and we all know it. We bring in the real Abraham and no one’s going to look too closely at the backstory. And if you’re right, and the sangers are going to get to you no matter what, you and I both know it’s not going to be pretty. Do you want those other folks, those people that have helped you and been loyal to you, going through that?”
Roeland’s eyes flickered very slightly; for a brief instant they lost the defeated look. Alex noticed it.
Trent saw it, too. “You wrote in your manifesto that your family had been killed by vampires. You couldn’t save them. You can save Rhuna, John, and Arthur. But you’ve got to give us something concrete. We’ve got to be able to convince people beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re the real article. And that you were working alone.”
“My manifesto? You people haven’t read anything.”
“Give us something high-profile. Something you can be easily tied to.”
“Do you think you’re prepared for the truth? Would you even believe it if you heard it?” Roeland shook his head.
“Try us.”
“Do you know that the Lightbearers’ leader, Stanislaw Chakalarov, had a change of heart, right before the end?”
“A change of heart from what, Roeland?”
“This whole thing. This charade. They’ve been planning it for years, decades—if not longer.”
“Look, Roeland. We’re on a clock here. The longer we’re dicking around playing games, the more folks are going to get interested. The more eyes we have on this, the harder it is going to be to tell the story we want to tell. Trust me, we want to be able to tell our version. Let’s stop with the guessing games and riddles and just talk to us.”
“Fine.” Roeland’s voice still sounded skeptical. “As you have said, you are pressed for time. Knowing what I know, I shan’t be allowed to speak for long. We’ll see how ready you are to hear the truth. Shall I start with Stanislaw Chakalarov?”
“Sure. Start wherever you’d like.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“Come on. You shouted it with pride in your manifesto.”
“Are you ready to hear the truth? Or are you more interested in arguing?”
For the first time, Roeland showed signs that he might lose his cool. Underneath that defeated and depressed façade was still a lot of repressed rage.
“I’m sorry, go on,” Trent apologized.
“My background used to be in law enforcement. Two years before the Reveal, vampires killed my family before my eyes. There was nothing I could do. When I tried to warn people, to tell them what had happened, I would see them regard me with that compassionate and knowing look reserved for the delusional. They explained it as a defense mechanism, a weak mind’s way of dealing with the stress and the grief. I knew it was not so. I wasted away in an asylum for months.
“I put up a front of sanity, of agreeing with their version of the world, to secure my release. Once out, I started a crusade of my own, but before I could get far, members of the Unit Interventie of the DSI contacted me. They claimed to have an organization within the DSI that tracked and dealt with vampiric groups, like those who had slain my family. It was secret, for obvious reasons.”
Trent and Alex locked eyes briefly. So, the Dutch had a special program, too.
“They recruited me and entered me in their training. They taught me the methods I’ve used. Before I could actually do anything in the field, the vampires staged their great ‘Reveal.’ Without fanfare, the organization I had been recruited into was dissolved as if it had never existed.
“There were those of us who did not let our guard down. We made contact with one another and formed covert networks throughout Europe. Some of the members convinced themselves they were simply acting as watchdogs. Others of us knew differently. Yet, you must understand, this was before we were completely dedicated to violence. Many of the other members believed that they could deal politically with the vampire situation. In the end, I think we were simply playing into their hands.
“I started a very vocal countervampire group in Amsterdam. In those early days, we received much support. People were still trying to make up their minds. The vampires hardly seemed a threat, as they had not yet made themselves known in large numbers. All that was before Budapest.”
“Oh yeah, those riots. I remember that. That was right around the Supreme Court ruling on this side of the pond,” Trent said.
“Everything seemed staged to me. Antivampire racists attacking sympathetic vampires in the street. Cameras were placed ‘just so’ and managed to capture the perfect angles on pivotal moments. They allowed only those holding the extremist positions to speak. Everything seemed geared to enhance discord and polarization. I made my opinion known on several forums for antivampire groups. A few days later, a vampire who confirmed my suspicions contacted me. He wanted to meet in person.
“I feared a trap, but couldn’t pass it up. With associates watching my back I went to the meeting anyway. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my contact was none other than the head of the Lightbearer Society, Mr. Stanislaw Chakalarov. I could scarcely believe what he would tell me.”
“Well do tell.” Alex’s skepticism colored his tone. Roeland glared at him, directed his attention to Trent, and continued.
“He told me that the entire Reveal, the Lightbearer Society, the demonstrations, all of it, had been planned. According to him, the plans had been in place for more than fifty years, but science had not advanced enough to put the key portions in place. Everything depended on the Hemo-Synth products. Until a suitable blood substitute was discovered, the vampires could not make themselves known. They’d had front companies working on a synthetic-blood solution for decades in
the name of medical research, but nothing ever worked until a little over two years ago.”
“But why did they need to make themselves known? We know that vampires had covert organizations before the Reveal.”
“They needed to make themselves known to swell their numbers. Chakalarov told me that for each member of a vampiric group, there were dozens who kept to themselves. You know how secretive they are. By making it unfashionable and impractical to remain secluded, the vampires could greatly increase their organized numbers. That was the purpose of the demonstrations. To force the various camps into organized blocs and to centralize control. You see, once you can get people to commit to an opinion and act on it, even with the minutest act, they become deaf to other points of view. They are too busy shouting their own slogans to hear anything different. Same thing with vampires.
“The most dramatic incident occurred in Budapest. That was for the vampires’ benefit. The footage, which the Lightbearer Society didn’t try hard enough to suppress, clearly showed vampires lashing out in self-defense, but only after they had been provoked. If you’ll remember, the media outlets followed it with only the most biased and bigoted opinions, directed toward a new generation which had been raised on a steady stream of pro-vampire propaganda. Think of it. Vampires are everywhere, in books, television, film, children’s programming, breakfast cereals. The effect was predictable. Soon it became fashionable to blame the human victims of the incident for having provoked a confrontation in the first place.”
“You’re talking about predictive programming,” Trent said.
Roeland nodded. “Countervampiric activity became extremely unpopular. Many of the antivampire groups were driven underground. Indeed, only a week after my initial meeting with Chakalarov, the Dutch government classified my own organization as one engaged in hatemongering and ordered us to disband. We did. Secretly we remained active.”
Alex felt he had to interrupt. “Yeah, but that whole countervampire movement being unpopular didn’t last too long on the Continent. That’s why things are the way they are now.”
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