Vampire

by K. M. Ashman

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, that’s quite normal. Sometimes the families of the deceased make their own arrangements and transport the body to a funeral home closer to the family home.’

  ‘I thought she didn’t have a family?’

  ‘According to this, it was organised by her husband, Mr Ivor Leighbourne.’

  Samari’s brow furrowed in confusion.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘thanks. Perhaps I will contact him.’ He walked away from the desk deep in thought. He recalled that Mrs Leighbourne had told him that she had no surviving family. Why would she have said that if her husband was still alive?’

  ‘Oh well,’ he thought. ‘People’s domestic arrangements were often strange.’

  He continued down to the basement lab where only one technician was on duty.

  ‘Hi, Lewis,’ said Samari, ‘on your own?’

  ‘Yeah, everyone’s left for the evening and I’ve got the graveyard shift.’

  ‘Okay to go through?’ asked Samari.

  ‘Yeah, sure. You are not going in the cell though, are you?’

  ‘No, I just need to make some observations for about an hour and I’ll be done.’

  ‘Okay, give me a shout if you need anything.’

  Samari went in and sat in one of the chairs, facing the viewing window. As the cell was now on permanent moonlight, he didn’t need the infra-red goggles. Nephthys was sitting at the back of the cell, staring into nothing, as was her habit.

  ‘Who are you?’ he asked quietly to himself, ‘what are you?’

  For an age Samari watched Nephthys, and though she sat motionless, he was fascinated with everything about her. For the first time, she seemed to look healthy and had a self-satisfied look on her face. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something definitely different about her. Finally he stood up to leave but as he turned away, he spotted something in the corner of the auditorium which made him stop dead in his tracks; Mrs Leighbourne’s wheelchair.

  He stared at the wheelchair in confusion. Why would it be all the way down here, and why would they need a wheelchair at all? It didn’t mean sense, unless…

  ‘Oh dear god no,’ he said and turned to stare at the cell once again. Surely they wouldn’t have given the body to Nephthys?

  He walked back down to the viewing window and peered into the room. The cell floor looked very clean with no sign of blood but that in itself was strange. There was always mess on the floor; in fact, he had never seen it so clean. It was if it had been recently mopped.

  No matter how much he tried to avoid the subject, his suspicions kept coming back. Mrs Leighbourne had said she had no family and he had no reason to disbelieve her. He knew Leatherman had no scruples and if Leatherman knew Mrs Leighbourne had no family, then when she died, it would be a perfect opportunity to see Nephthys do what nature had intended her to do. Samari contemplated opening the door and asking Nephthys himself but suddenly realised there was a far better option. He walked over to the technician’s desk and sat in front of the CCTV monitor. After a few minutes, he worked out how to rewind the recordings and set it to earlier in the afternoon, before forwarding it at double speed. The screen was showing the cell from the point of view of the furthest camera, and showed Nephthys sitting in her normal position against the wall, bathed in the blue Moonlight setting. After a few seconds, the screen changed and an orange light started flashing. Samari changed the play to normal speed and watched in growing horror as the scenes from earlier in the day unfolded before his eyes.

  ----

  Chapter Seventeen

  London

  Becky was at her desk in her office when John finally returned her call. She briefly explained what had happened the night before and they agreed to meet for lunch so she could fill him in on the details and agree what they should do next.

  Amy was at her own desk and Becky had been pleasantly surprised when the girl had turned up for work in a pair of jeans and a nice top.

  ‘Amy,’ she had said, ‘you look lovely, what’s happened to all the black stuff.’

  ‘I thought it was time for a change,’ said Amy.

  ‘Well, you look lovely,’ said Becky, ‘and it suits you.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Amy and returned her attention to her computer screen.

  ‘Looking forward to tonight,’ she typed.

  ‘Me too,’ came the reply in the message box.

  ‘Amy,’ said Becky, interrupting the love struck teenager’s online conversation, ‘I may be a bit late this afternoon. Could you do me a favour, go up to the lab sometime after lunch and pick up a package from Craig?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Amy. ‘Is it the results from the finger?’

  ‘It is,’ said Becky, ‘though to be honest I don’t really know what to make of it.’

  ‘You’ve seen the results already?’

  ‘Sort of, Craig came around last night to run through the results himself.’

  ‘Really?’ said Amy with renewed interest. ‘What did he have to say, is it a fake or do we have a real life ‘Curse of the Mummy’s tomb’ on our hands?’

  Becky turned her chair and explained to Amy everything that had happened. The girl listened intently and when Becky had finished, she stared at her boss with excitement in her eyes.

  ‘Oh…my…god!’ She exclaimed, pausing between each word.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Becky. ‘You look like you have just won the lottery.’

  ‘Becky, don’t you realise what you have just described?’

  ‘Enlighten me,’ said Becky.

  ‘A living organism, that feeds on the blood of others, gaining strength to ensure they live forever.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Becky, you are describing a vampire.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Becky, ‘that is ridiculous.’

  ‘Feeds on blood?’ asked Amy.

  ‘Yes but…’

  ‘Lives forever?’

  ‘I know but…’

  ‘Dies in sunlight.’

  ‘Amy…!’

  ‘Did you try Garlic?’ asked the girl.

  ‘Amy, stop it. You are being ridiculous. We are talking about simple blood cells. Each is a microscopic individual entity that is a tiny part of a much bigger picture.’

  Amy smiled.

  ‘You have just described a human,’ smiled Amy. ‘Oh my god, Becky, you need to get a crucifix.’

  Becky laughed out loud this time.

  ‘Amy, I can just about get my head around the scientific aspects. The one thing I totally reject without fear of contradiction is that there is any link whatsoever to any religious doctrine.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Amy, slightly disappointed, ‘but still, the rest all adds up. I think that somewhere back in Egypt, that doctor who framed your father has the body of a vampire on his hands.’

  Again Becky laughed out loud.

  ‘Oh Amy, if only you were right. Imagine the shock on Samari’s face when she sunk her fangs into his scrawny neck.’

  The smile on Amy’s face disappeared instantly.

  ‘What did you say?’ she asked.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Becky. ‘I just joked that it would be funny if Samari met his end at the hands of some Hammer Horror monster.’

  ‘Who is Samari?’ asked Amy.

  ‘That’s the name of the man who framed my father. Why?’

  ‘I saw his name written on a memo pad up in Montague’s office,’ said Amy. ‘I knew I had heard it before but couldn’t recall where. I must have heard you mention it down here, on the phone or something.’

  ‘Well,’ said Becky slowly, ‘I don’t suppose it means anything. Montague knows Samari from Cairo. I suppose it could be just coincidence that you saw his name.’

  ‘Might be,’ said Amy, ‘but it was written above the name of a hotel. Somewhere called Mulberry Lodge.’

  ‘Mulberry Lodge?’ said Becky. ‘That doesn’t sound like an Egyptian name to me. In fact, it sounds
positively English. Do you think Samari could be over here?’

  ‘Possible,’ said Amy, ‘why?’

  ‘Because if he is, I want to meet him face to face and find out exactly why he framed my father.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll tell you anything?’

  ‘Probably not, but it would be worth it to see the look on his face when he realises he hasn’t got away with it. I wonder where this Mulberry Lodge is?’

  ‘There’s one way to find out,’ said Amy, and she swung her chair back to face her screen.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Becky.

  ‘I’m going to do what I do best,’ said Amy, ‘research.’

  ----

  Half an hour later, Amy picked up her note book and turned her chair away from the computer.

  ‘Becks,’ she said, ‘it’s been a pain but I’ve finally got somewhere.’

  ‘There are a lot of hotels called Mulberry lodge, I assume,’ said Becky.

  ‘Yes, quite a few, but not many in the London area. Anyway, I checked out as many as I could but couldn’t find a record of any Samari being in any of them. However, during my search I found a Mulberry Lodge not far from here, but it’s not a hotel, it’s a retirement home.’

  ‘What made you look at that?’ asked Becky.

  ‘I don’t know, really,’ said Amy, ‘but the website seemed interesting so I had a look. It seems that it is solely for the rich and the famous and is one of a chain owned by the Bearing’s group, which in turn is a subsidiary of Glencol pharmaceuticals PLC.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, that’s where it gets interesting. I did a search on the company and found the board of directors. One of them is a major shareholder, and goes by the name of A. R. Montague.’

  ‘Andrew Montague?’ asked Becky.

  ‘The one and only,’ said Amy. ‘Anyway, I phoned the lodge and gave my name as Susan Samari and asked if I could speak to my father.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘The receptionist said she’d see if she could find him for me. As soon as I heard that, I hung up. It seems like we’ve found our man.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Becky, ‘Let’s take stock here. Are we saying that Samari is not only over here, but also a guest of Montague’s in a lodge owned by a company where Montague is a major shareholder?’

  ‘Seems so,’ said Amy.

  ‘It still doesn’t mean Montague is involved in any of this,’ said Becky, ‘but considering Montague has stated to me that he didn’t believe any of the accusations made against my father, it is a bit two faced of him to now work with Samari.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Amy.

  ‘I’m meeting John for lunch and then I am going to go over there and pay Mr Samari a visit,’ said Becky.

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

  ‘No, you go and pick up my parcel. I’ll go and meet Samari and see what he has got to say for himself.’

  ‘I’ll go straight away,’ said Amy.

  Five minutes later, Amy returned with a small plastic box. Becky unclipped the clasp and opened the box to see a clear plastic vial sitting within a bed of preformed sponge. The contents were a very dark red and obviously in a liquid form.

  ‘Looks like blood,’ said Amy.

  ‘That’s exactly what it is,’ said Becky, before snapping the lid shut. ‘Right, you put this in the safe, I’m off to try and make some final sense of all this. Wish me luck.’

  ‘Becks, before you go,’ said Amy, as she took the plastic box from her boss, ‘can I finish early tonight? I’ll make sure the notes are done for Monday’s meeting but I’m going out and need to get ready.’

  ‘Really?’ smiled Becky, ‘hot date?

  ‘Sort of,’ said Amy, blushing furiously.

  ‘Anyone I know?’ asked Becky.

  ‘No, he’s not from around here, but he’s really nice. Not even my parents know yet, but I really like him.’

  ‘Okay,’ smiled Becky, ‘but on one condition.’

  ‘What’s that?’ asked Amy, a slight look of concern on her face,

  ‘That you tell me all about it on Monday,’ she said. ‘Now, go and make yourself beautiful for that lucky man.’

  ‘Thanks, Becky,’ said Amy. ‘Good luck with Samari and have a nice weekend.’

  ----

  A couple of hours later, Amy finished her work for the day and put on her coat. As she walked out she switched on her phone and smiled when she saw four missed calls from Lucas. She pressed recall and her face lit up even more when she heard his sexy German accent.

  ‘Amy, hi, I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Amy, ‘there’s just no signal in the vaults so it’s pointless switching the phone on.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Lucas. ‘Are we still on for tonight?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Amy. ‘In fact, I’ve managed to get an early finish so I’ve got plenty of time to get ready.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Lucas.

  ‘There is something else, Lucas,’ said Amy, ‘you will never guess what happened today.’

  ‘Surprise me,’ said Lucas.

  ‘Well, I can’t say too much,’ said Amy, ‘but what if I was to tell you that vampires were real?’

  ‘Then I would say you are preaching to the converted and we have already had this conversation at your house.’

  ‘No, I don’t mean the stories from folklore,’ said Amy, ‘I mean real, flesh and blood creatures that lived, breathed and needed blood to survive.’

  ‘Then in that case,’ laughed Lucas, ‘I would say that perhaps you have had a rather long liquid lunch and the wine had flowed too freely.’

  ‘No, seriously,’ said Amy, ‘today the museum carried out a test that shows they actually did exist, and more importantly, they have the evidence to prove it.’

  ‘Amy, please,’ said Lucas, ‘you know my fascination with this subject, so please don’t patronise me.’

  ‘Lucas, I know how much you are interested, and so am I. That’s why I am so excited. When I heard the news today, I could hardly believe my ears. Apparently they found an old body in Egypt and have managed to get a tissue sample analysed. Honestly, Lucas, the results are conclusive. The person that the sample came from needed blood to survive and lived for thousands of years.’

  ‘Are you sure about this, Amy?’

  ‘Absolutely, and I can prove it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I can’t say now,’ said Amy as she walked out of the museum doors, ‘it’s too complicated but I will explain everything later.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to get too carried away, Amy,’ laughed Lucas, ‘and I am sure whatever it is you have got is fascinating, but let’s wait and see.’

  ‘One more thing, Lucas,’ said Amy, stopping at the foot of the museum steps. ‘About tonight.’

  ‘What about it?’

  She looked around to see she was not overheard before lowering her voice.

  ‘Um, the thing is, my parents are going away and I have told them I am going out with a friend and then staying at her house.’

  ‘So, you are not expected home this evening?’ asked Lucas slowly.

  ‘No, not until tomorrow afternoon, so, if you want to, you know, arrange a local hotel or something; that would be really nice.’

  ‘Amy, are you sure?’ asked Lucas.

  ‘Positive,’ she said, her face burning furiously, ‘unless of course you don’t want to.’

  ‘No, I mean yes, of course I want to,’ stuttered Lucas, ‘it’s just that I feel so, ah, honoured.’

  ‘So you should,’ laughed Amy, ‘anyway, my bus is coming, I’ll see you later. Bye.’

  ----

  Becky waited outside the small antiques shop on the side road off Oxford Street. John locked the door and turned to join her.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘I hope this is going to be worth it. Friday afternoons are sometimes quite busy for me.’

  ‘Tha
nks for coming with me,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you to lose business but I also don’t want to waste this opportunity. If Amy is right, Samari could be less than fifty miles from here and he’s got some explaining to do.’

  ‘You don’t really believe all that vampire crap, do you?’ asked John.

  ‘Of course not, but whatever is going on here, Samari holds the answers. I think this organisation is heavily into gene research and believe they have found some sort of rogue gene that may help in cell reproduction. Hell, they may even be right but the thing is, Samari is involved and if this company is anyway linked to my father’s death, then I want to know about it. Come on, it’ll be dark soon and I don’t want to get there only to find he’s gone out for the evening.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said John, ‘we need to stop in at the grocers.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Becky.

  ‘Garlic,’ said John. ‘You never know.’

  ‘Okay, that’s enough,’ said Becky. ‘This is serious. My father died because of this Samari guy and the last thing I need right now is you making light of it. Either you are in this with me or you’re not. Your choice.’

  ‘Sorry, Becky,’ he said, ‘of course you are right. Come on, I’ll get us a cab.’

  ‘Hang on,’ said Becky, ‘one more thing. Do you still have that necklace from Amenemhat’s tomb?’

  ‘I do, why?’

  ‘If this all goes belly up and Samari denies everything at least that provides credible evidence that we were there. Somebody with Montague’s credentials would recognise it as genuine almost immediately, and with him on our side, we have a chance.’

  ‘Right,’ said John, ‘I’ll go and get it.’

  Five minutes later they were in the back of a taxi and on their way toward the outskirts of London.

  ----

  Amy stood before the entrance to the tube station, waiting for the taxi she thought would be picking her up. Finally a car pulled up before her, a bright red Porsche. The passenger window wound down and she heard a voice calling from within.

  ‘Taxi for Amy,’ said a German accent.

  Amy bent down and was shocked to see Lucas behind the wheel.

  ‘Hi, Amy,’ he said. ‘Ready for a fantastic evening?’