Dead-Tective Box Set

by Mac Flynn

  "So it appears," he mused.

  "Like a senile old guy, or one who can actually help us?" I asked him.

  "We will find our answer inside," he replied as he strode forward.

  I hurried after him and gestured to the dark building. "Yeah, but what room is he in? There's probably dozens in there," I pointed out.

  "We will ask the front desk," he suggested.

  The only lights in the dark building were in the halls and the front lobby. We reached the pair of glass doors and Vince tried one of the handles. Locked. A middle-aged woman sat behind the curved front desk with her eyes glued to the pages of a romance novel. At the shake of the door she looked up and frowned. "We're closed to visitors," she called to us.

  "But we really need to see someone," I called back.

  The woman set down her novel and stood. "I'm afraid that's quite impossible. Visiting hours are over, so please leave before I call the police," she ordered us.

  Vince stepped close to the glass doors and his glasses slid down his nose. I looked from him to where he was staring at which was the woman behind the desk. She stiffened and her eyes took on a vacant expression. The woman walked around the desk and to the doors. She pulled out her keys, unlocked the doors and opened them.

  Vince pushed past her and I slid inside behind him. My vampire companion turned to the woman as she let the door shut behind us. "We need to know if there is an alchemist residing here," Vince told her.

  The woman shook her head. "There are no alchemists."

  "Are any of the residents allowed special liberties?" he asked the woman.

  She nodded. "Yes. Mr. Wilson is allowed a dirt box of flowers, Mrs. Hammond is allowed allowed her five shelves of mystery books, Mr.-"

  "Are any of them allowed chemistry sets?" he specified.

  "Yes, Mr. Merl Lynn."

  "Which room is his?"

  She nodded at the hall behind us and to our right. "He's down there, room forty-two."

  "Return to your duties and warn us if you notice anything unusual," Vince instructed her. The woman bowed her head and resumed her position behind the desk. Vince walked down the hall and I by his side.

  "So do you think this alchemist is dangerous?" I whispered.

  "We will see."

  Chapter 5

  We walked down the hall past the doors of the inmates' rooms. "Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty," I counted up. "Forty-one, forty-three?" I stopped and glanced between the last two counts. Still no forty-two. I pointed at the doors. "Um, Vince? There's no room forty-two. The woman's as senile as the inmates."

  Vince passed me and stood before the empty wall between the two existing rooms. My flummoxed partner pursed his lips together and his red eyes examined the barrier before him. Vince raised hand so his fingers were outstretched and his palm faced the wall. He pressed his palm against the wall.

  I started when a room door appeared in front of us. On the door was the number forty-two. Vince lowered his hand. "It seems were are expected," he mused.

  "This doesn't seem like a good thing," I commented.

  "We will see."

  "Can't we know something for once?" I pleaded.

  Vince tried the knob. It turned, and he pushed the door open. It swung into the room and revealed a small, square suite. The first room was a small living room large enough for a love seat, chair and TV stand. Against the far right was were two doors, one leading to a bathroom and the other I guessed was a bedroom. There wasn't any sign of the chemistry set, or anything that screamed 'alchemist.'

  In the living room chair sat a wizened old man who appeared to be a hundred. He had thick spectacles on his face, thinning white hair on his head, and a white shirt and faded jeans on his body. His eyes were closed and a bit of drool dribbled from his mouth down to his chin. His chest rose up and down in a deep, even movement. I tiptoed inside, but Vince strode forward and stopped in front of the old man.

  Vince pulled out the slip of paper and held it out to him. "We wish to have this deciphered," he told the inmate. The man didn't respond.

  I frowned and slunk over to my partner. The old man didn't move a muscle as I turned to Vince and gestured at the stranger. "Are you sure this is an alchemist? He doesn't seem very-well, lively," I pointed out.

  "Then we will change that," Vince suggested. He pocketed the note, leaned down, and knocked the old man's head off his shoulders. I screamed, but Vince wrapped an arm around me and slapped his hand over my mouth. "Quiet or you will wake others," he ordered me.

  I pulled his hand from my mouth and pointed at the head. "You just killed a man!" I hissed.

  "This is not a man, but a dummy," he argued.

  "And it was a good one until you wrecked it," a voice piped up. The bedroom door opened and the same wizened old man, with head, shuffled out. He leaned on a cane and glared at us as he pointed the bottom of his stick at the head and body. "You'd better be willing to pay for those damages."

  My eyes whipped between the old man, and the old man sans-head. "What the hell is going on here?" I questioned them.

  "The thing in the chair was merely an elaborate decoy, a simple trick of air and materials," Vince explained.

  "Simple? This isn't anything simple," the old man argued. He shuffled over to the head and picked it up. "Just the head took weeks to sculpt, and even longer to order the materials and get them through those idiot women who run this place."

  Vince released me and walked over to the old man. Mr. Lynn stretched himself up to his full height of five feet and glared at the vampire. "We need your help," Vince told him.

  "And why should I help you, vampire? Your kind are nothing but trouble for my profession, always mocking us with your almost-immortality and spoiling our experiments." The old man held up the head as proof.

  "One of your own is in grave danger," Vince replied.

  Lynn snorted and half-turned from Vince. "So? What do I care? Less competition for me."

  "It is Frederick Batholomew."

  Lynn froze and his head whipped around. His eyebrows crashed down and he pursed his lips. "What was that name, vampire?"

  "Frederick Batholomew. Lord Ruthven hunts him," Vince told him.

  "Ruthven? What's that idiot doing now?" Lynn growled.

  "Trying to take over the city," I spoke up.

  Lynn snorted. "Just like that fool to destroy something first and try to take over it later, like a wild dog that craps on a yard and later rolls in the grass."

  "So does that mean you'll help us?" I asked him.

  "Help you? Hell no. These idiots can duke it out between each other for all I care." He paused and his eyes flickered between Vince and the ring on the vampire's finger. "That is, unless you can spare a drop of Batholomew's blood."

  "We have nothing to give you but a challenge between alchemists," Vince replied. He pulled out the yellowed paper and held the words towards Lynn. "Batholomew created this code. Do you know what this says?"

  Lynn sneered and waved a hand at the paper. "What kind of a challenge is that? Give me a real challenge and-" He paused and leaned towards the paper. His eyes squinted and he grabbed a bottom corner. "What do we have here? Hmm, a spell with a bit of strange ink." Lynn pulled the paper from Vince's willing hand and studied the writing. He shuffled towards the bathroom and mumbled to himself. "Maybe, just maybe it might be it, but my god, this is old, very old. I haven't seen this in ages."

  "What is it?" I asked him.

  Lynn paused in the bathroom door and glanced up at me with a scowl. "Maybe a challenge, maybe nothing. Let me step into my office and see what I can find." He closed the door behind himself and his mumblings were heard through the door. There came the sounds of chinking as glass tapped against glass, followed by a soft bubbling noise.

  I slid over to Vince and lowered my voice. "You think this guy is really going to help us?" I whispered.

  "Yes."

  I frowned at him. "Why?"

  "Because an alchemist cannot resist a challeng
e from another of his profession, and Bat is a legend in the alchemist society. It would raise Lynn's prestige if he could break the code," Vince explained.

  "So we're hoping this is going to stroke his ego enough to-"

  "Eureka!" came a shout from the bathroom. The door burst open and Lynn stood in the doorway waving the paper in one hand. Behind him was the messiest bathroom I'd ever seen, made possible by the large chemistry set that stretched across the small counter and included the bathtub and the open, filthy toilet. The walls were stained with all the colors of the rainbows, as were the beakers and tubes that sat and lay on the counter, on shelves on the walls, and on the floor. "I've got it!" Lynn shouted.

  "You solved the writing already?" I asked him.

  He hobbled towards us and scowled at me. "You doubt the great Lynn's abilities?"

  I shook my head. "N-no, no, I was just, well-maybe?" I squeaked.

  Lynn shoved the paper under my nose. "Well, I have here proof of my success. Take that, Batholomew!"

  Vince blessedly took the paper before it cut my lip and peered over the contents. He raised an eyebrow and his eyes flickered to Lynn. "I see only smears where there was once writing," he told the old man. My mouth fell open and I stood on my tiptoes for a view. Sure enough the gibberish was gone and in their places were long smears of ink.

  I whipped my head to Lynn. "You ruined it!" I growled at him.

  "I have not. Let me take a look." Lynn snatched the document from Vince and looked it over. "Damn spell was stronger than I thought. Hold this." He stuffed the paper into Vince's hands and hurried to the bathroom. Lynn snatched a vial from the counter and hurried back to us. "The old goat used a simple trick, but not simple ink. This is rare stuff from Egypt. I haven't seen the like in a hundred years. Now hold open that paper, that's it. Now hold still." Vince held the paper so the smeared words faced the ceiling. Lynn splashed the paper with a little of the contents of the vial.

  My eyes widened when I beheld the ink swirl and reform. The smears changed to letters, and the letters formed words to create a note. Vince tilted the paper and silently read the note. He finished and frowned.

  "Well, what does it say?" I asked him.

  Vince's gaze turned to Lynn. "Did you read the contents?" he asked the old man.

  Lynn grinned and showed off the few teeth left in his head. "Yep. Every word is as clear as day, I made sure of that." Vince tilted his head down and his glasses slid down his nose. He made eye contact with Lynn, but the old man just glared at him. "Don't you go trying that stupid vampire stuff on me. I've made sure I'm guarded against something as stupid as hypnosis."

  Vince frowned and raised his head to his glasses slipped back into place. "I see," he commented as he stuffed the document into his jacket. "What of your shoelaces?"

  "My shoelaces?" Lynn returned. He glanced down at his feet. "I'm wearing slippers, you-" Vince dove forward and sank his teeth into the old man's wrinkled neck. Lynn's eyes widened and the old man's scream came out as a garbled gasp. His cane clattered to the ground and his hands flailed in the air above him and Vince's back.

  "Vince!" I protested.

  The attack was over in a moment. Lynn's arms fell limp by his sides and his head lolled back. His eyes closed and his breathing evened. Vince raised his head and showed off two deep puncture wounds on Lynn's neck.

  "What'd you do that for?" I questioned him as he set Lynn on the floor.

  "For our protection, and his own," Vince replied as he stood over the limp man. Lynn still breathed, but in a shallow sort of way. "He knew the location of Bat, and if Ruthven is following our trail then such information would have been tortured from him. Now he won't awaken for some days, and that will bide us some time. Also, I was hungry."

  My mouth dropped open as Vince strode past me. "Don't you have a conscience? You just drained an old man dry!" I reminded him.

  Vince paused at the door and turned to me. "I will leave the conscience to you. Now we must find Bat." He left, and I threw my arms up in the air.

  "Great, I get the dirty job of being a psycho's conscience," I quipped as I followed him.

  Chapter 6

  Vince stopped outside so I could catch up. "Where is Bat, anyway?" I asked him.

  "The note said he would be where Tim was most fond of being," Vince told me.

  I furrowed my brow. "Where Tim was most-oh! The barnyard where we buried him!"

  Vince nodded. "Yes, but we must return to our vehicle. I don't have enough energy to carry you over that distance."

  I put my hands on my hip and glared at him. "What are you implying, that I'm fat?"

  "No, that the old alchemist was a dry drink and didn't satiate my hunger," Vince explained.

  I cringed and stuck out my tongue. "I didn't need to imagine that flavor in my mouth."

  "It is far worse to have the taste in one's mouth, but we must hurry. The sun won't pause for us to waste time," Vince advised.

  We hurried through the streets and alleys as fast as our energies would allow which wasn't as fast as I hoped. I, too was depleted of energy. Also, our car sat half the city away. In half that distance I was exhausted. We were in the business district when I stumbled and fell against an alley wall. My stomach rumbled and my body begged for sustenance. The streets to our right were alive with people throbbing with blood. I watched them walk by the mouth of the alley and licked my lips. Just a little bite, a little taste of their life, that's all I asked. I stumbled towards the bright lights and vibrant life. Just a drop, a smidgen of life fluid, I told myself. Nothing that would kill anybody.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. My back was slammed against the brick wall to my right and I winced at the pain of the tiny, rough bits of brick. Vince was my assailant, and he clamped his strong hands on my shoulders and pinned me to the wall.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" I growled at him.

  "If you drink blood you will lose more of your humanity," he told me.

  My mouth twisted with disbelief. "But you had me drinking that damn stuff before!"

  "That was before most of your life was extinguished. Now you must control the hunger," he insisted.

  I cringed. The hunger gnawed at me like a starving wolf. Just a few yards away walked my satiation. Only a bite, that's it. "Not even a little bite?" I whimpered.

  Vince leaned down and his glasses slid down his nose. His red eyes looked into mine and I was pinned by his gaze. "Liz, be my conscience. Don't let yourself walk the same road as I. Not yet. Not until we see if the only roads you can travel are death, or undeath." I tried to look away from his beautiful dark eyes, but he grasped my chin between his fingers and kept my eyes turned to him. His voice was a soft whisper like a quiet spring day. "Please."

  I closed my eyes and shuddered. The hunger raged inside me, but Vince's voice cut through like a hot knife through butter, a comparison that didn't help all that much. I ground my teeth together and nodded. "All right, but we'd better get this over quick or your cricket is going to become a carnivore," I warned him.

  I opened my eyes and saw Vince was smiling. "Then let us hurry, and take the less-traveled paths."

  I yelped when Vince swept me into his arms. He bent his knees and pushed straight up from the ground. I clutched his neck as we left the ground far beneath us. "Did I ever mention I don't like heights?" I yelled at him.

  "No, but I will make a note of that for later," he replied.

  "How about-now?" My last word came out as we landed atop the roof of the four-story building by which we'd just stood. I looked around the rooftop and saw the city spread out in front of us. Vince trotted towards the edge of the roof. Across the alley lay another building top. My eyes widened when Vince quickened his speed. "Vince, don't do it. Afraid of heights, remember? Vince? Vince!"

  I nearly strangled him, but instead I let out a long, piercing scream as Vince pushed off from the raised border around the roof. We sailed across a dozen feet of empty space and hit the opposite roo
f running. I shut my eyes and hugged myself to his cold but soothing chest. The wind whipped past us and blew my hair into my face.

  "Did I ever mention you're really annoying?" I shouted at the vampire.

  "Perhaps a time or two," he admitted.

  "Well, here's another time. You're really-AH!" I'd risked opening my eyes at the worst possible moment when Vince took another running leap to the adjoining roof. We landed safely on the other side and were making good progress across the city. "Are you trying to get us killed?" I shouted at him.

  "No, I am trying to get us across the city with as little difficulty and in as little time as possible," he returned as we swept across the rooftops.

  "If you don't get us down I'm going to kill you!" I growled.

  "Very well." Vince jumped over the side of a rooftop and I saw there was a wide street beneath us, too wide to jump across. Traffic zoomed by in both directions and a few pedestrians walked the streets.

  I clutched onto Vince and buried my face in his coat as we dropped like two stones to the ground. Vince landed on both feet and bent his knees to lessen the impact. He pushed off from the ground and across the street, zigging and zagging between speeding cars. I winced, cringed, prayed, whimpered, and begged for Vince to be beaned by a passing side mirror, but he was too agile. We reached the safety of the other side of the street and paused.

  I clutched my heart and glared at him. "All right, that's enough. Put me dooowwwn!" Vince jumped in the air and landed on top of the roof, and we restarted his terrifying fun-run. I glared up at him and narrowed my eyes. "Don't you ever get tired of being an ass?" I snapped at him.

  "No."

  "Ugh. . ." I muttered, and settled myself in for a long and death-defying ride.

  Somehow we survived his madness and in a few minutes Vince dropped us off a roof for the last time. Our car sat by the manhole that led to the underground, and Vince set me down. My legs wobbled beneath my feet, but the trip had killed some of my appetite. Now I just wanted to throw up. "Remind me never to fly Air Vince again," I told him.

  "We must hurry. The night is growing late and-"

  "And you need to stay right where you are," a voice spoke up. Officer Romero emerged from the shadows behind our car.

  In one of his hands was a leash, and at the end of the least was Brutus, his zombie dog. Brutus curled his lips back and snarled at Vince. Romero snapped his fingers and two dozen officers emerged from the alleys, trashcans, and even from mailboxes, or at least parts of them emerged from mailboxes. Other parts emerged from overturned cardboard boxes and anything else laying around.