bathtub with all the virgins and...”
Annja couldn’t take it anymore. “The virgins were dead, Doug. How do you think she bathed in their blood?”
As usual, the facts didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Well, of course they were, at some point. But not right away. And we can use that. We can most definitely use that. When will you be back with the footage?”
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, Doug. Remember last time you tried...”
“Ancient history, Annja. We can’t face today thinking about the mistakes of the past. If we’re going to back you on the episode we need to be thinking about the audience. Now answer the question—how long?”
Figuring she could deal with any of Doug’s so-called improvements to her episode once she was back in the States, Annja focused on getting the resources necessary to make it all work. “I need a few more days to get the right shots of Csejte Castle and then...”
“See-what?”
“Csejte Castle. The Báthory family estate here in Slovakia.”
“Right, right. I knew that.”
“So I should probably stick around for another three, maybe four days. I can get by on my own, no need to send anyone else, but it would help if the show kicked in some funding.”
At the mention of funding, Doug’s over-the-top enthusiasm was suddenly replaced with a miser’s attention to details. “Funding? For what?”
“I need to eat and sleep, Doug.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll wire you some money tonight. Where are you staying?”
She told him.
“Three days. That’s all you’ve got. After that I want you back here in New York with the footage so we can have the boys in the editing suite start putting it all together.”
Three days. That should be good enough.
“Thanks, Doug. Got to go.”
“Annja, I want...”
She hung up the phone before he could finish the sentence. The less she heard about what he wanted, the better. She could get back to the episode tomorrow; right now she needed to see what Detective Tamás was doing to solve the woman’s murder.
Putting the phone back on the nightstand, she took a quick shower before getting dressed and headed out the door.
Annja was halfway across the parking lot before she remembered that her SUV had been confiscated. She went back into the hotel, asked to use the lobby phone and spent the next half hour explaining what had happened to the rental car, finally cajoling the clerk on the other end of the phone into sending another vehicle to her hotel until the first one was released by the police. When the car finally showed up it was a beat-up-looking sedan that spouted small clouds of gray exhaust at regular intervals like a mechanical whale spitting water through its blowhole. Annja didn’t care; all she wanted was something to get her from one place to another.
She signed the paperwork, handed it to the clerk and settled behind the wheel. A crank of the key, a sputtering rasp of the engine until it caught and then she was wheeling the car around and dashing out of the hotel parking lot, retracing the route she’d driven so frantically last night.
Annja was fully expecting to come upon the police combing the cliff side, so she was surprised to make it almost all the way to Csejte Castle without coming upon the crime scene. Thinking that perhaps she’d gotten the distances mixed up in all the excitement of the rescue, she continued driving, only to find herself entering the village of Čachtice less than five minutes later. She hadn’t seen a single police car or found anyone standing watch by the side of the road.
What on earth was going on?
She glanced at her watch, noting that it was almost 10:00 a.m.
Could they have come and gone already?
She didn’t think that was possible. It should have taken them hours to search the surrounding area. Perhaps they’ve only done a cursory inspection and intend on coming back with a full crime scene unit?
Scowling, she pulled an abrupt U-turn. This time she drove
Annja couldn’t take it anymore. “The virgins were dead, Doug. How do you think she bathed in their blood?”
As usual, the facts didn’t bother him in the slightest. “Well, of course they were, at some point. But not right away. And we can use that. We can most definitely use that. When will you be back with the footage?”
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, Doug. Remember last time you tried...”
“Ancient history, Annja. We can’t face today thinking about the mistakes of the past. If we’re going to back you on the episode we need to be thinking about the audience. Now answer the question—how long?”
Figuring she could deal with any of Doug’s so-called improvements to her episode once she was back in the States, Annja focused on getting the resources necessary to make it all work. “I need a few more days to get the right shots of Csejte Castle and then...”
“See-what?”
“Csejte Castle. The Báthory family estate here in Slovakia.”
“Right, right. I knew that.”
“So I should probably stick around for another three, maybe four days. I can get by on my own, no need to send anyone else, but it would help if the show kicked in some funding.”
At the mention of funding, Doug’s over-the-top enthusiasm was suddenly replaced with a miser’s attention to details. “Funding? For what?”
“I need to eat and sleep, Doug.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll wire you some money tonight. Where are you staying?”
She told him.
“Three days. That’s all you’ve got. After that I want you back here in New York with the footage so we can have the boys in the editing suite start putting it all together.”
Three days. That should be good enough.
“Thanks, Doug. Got to go.”
“Annja, I want...”
She hung up the phone before he could finish the sentence. The less she heard about what he wanted, the better. She could get back to the episode tomorrow; right now she needed to see what Detective Tamás was doing to solve the woman’s murder.
Putting the phone back on the nightstand, she took a quick shower before getting dressed and headed out the door.
Annja was halfway across the parking lot before she remembered that her SUV had been confiscated. She went back into the hotel, asked to use the lobby phone and spent the next half hour explaining what had happened to the rental car, finally cajoling the clerk on the other end of the phone into sending another vehicle to her hotel until the first one was released by the police. When the car finally showed up it was a beat-up-looking sedan that spouted small clouds of gray exhaust at regular intervals like a mechanical whale spitting water through its blowhole. Annja didn’t care; all she wanted was something to get her from one place to another.
She signed the paperwork, handed it to the clerk and settled behind the wheel. A crank of the key, a sputtering rasp of the engine until it caught and then she was wheeling the car around and dashing out of the hotel parking lot, retracing the route she’d driven so frantically last night.
Annja was fully expecting to come upon the police combing the cliff side, so she was surprised to make it almost all the way to Csejte Castle without coming upon the crime scene. Thinking that perhaps she’d gotten the distances mixed up in all the excitement of the rescue, she continued driving, only to find herself entering the village of Čachtice less than five minutes later. She hadn’t seen a single police car or found anyone standing watch by the side of the road.
What on earth was going on?
She glanced at her watch, noting that it was almost 10:00 a.m.
Could they have come and gone already?
She didn’t think that was possible. It should have taken them hours to search the surrounding area. Perhaps they’ve only done a cursory inspection and intend on coming back with a full crime scene unit?
Scowling, she pulled an abrupt U-turn. This time she drove
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