dried to powder before forensics got there. Blood doesn’t normally behave like that, the process usually takes hours to get to that stage.”
“So what was the official verdict?”
“It was all so bizarre and difficult to explain that it was agreed, seeing as the guy was a John Doe, that SHC would be the best explanation, providing no-one asked too many questions. But in truth, they didn’t have a God damn clue. Because the incident coincided with sunrise their best guess was maybe some kind of photosensitive reaction to ultra violet light, but it would have been off the chart and incomparably larger than anything anyone has ever seen before. Photosensitives get bad sunburn in direct sunlight, but they don’t explode.”
I left Edgar to the rest of his lunch and headed back to the car. The city was dirty, but these reports were just plain crazy. I wondered just what the hell was going on here?
My rational mind was still trying to keep things in balance, and for all the bizarre stuff going on it kept repeating to me that there had to be a completely logical explanation. But... The rest of me could not help itself, I was a detective, I have a deductive mind, and it was leaping to some awkward conclusions. People vanishing, strange shadow-like figures, mysterious consignments of human blood and people exploding in sunlight. My rational mind was screaming, ‘Bullshit!’ But my deductive mind was reluctantly saying, ‘Vampires...’
*
I knew something wasn’t quite right the moment I got back to the office.
“Hi, sweetheart, how’s it been here?”
Lydia said nothing. She put one finger to her lips to indicate I be quiet and gestured me over to her desk. Once I was close enough she whispered into my ear.
“Johnny, there’s a guy in your office, he just turned up, he’s built like a brick shithouse and is demanding to speak to you. I think he could be mob.”
“Sure, thanks for the heads up.” I whispered back, “listen, I’ll go in, if things get crazy, you just get out, get a few blocks away then call the cops, alright?”
“Be careful, Johnny, please .”
I wasn’t sure how to play this. I was known to the mob, most PI’s were, and sometimes we had to ask questions that revealed things that perhaps they’d rather we didn’t know about. And sometimes that required a little, polite word in the PI’s ear, just a subtle warning across the bow to say, ‘hey, stand down.’
I hadn’t dug too deep into the mob’s operations in this case – or at least I didn’t think I had. I was reasonably confident that the guy in my office was here just to talk – but at the back of my mind was the possibility that I could walk in there and the son of bitch might just put a slug through my temples. And so it was, with trepidation, that I opened the door. I decided I would take what I called the ‘unshakable’ approach, and with a deep breath and a shot of courage, I strode diminutively into the room.
“Good afternoon, apologies if you’ve been waiting a while for me, I’ve been having one of those days.”
I marched past the man and got a good look at his features. He was a big guy. Seriously big, I reckon he must have been a tleast 6’5” – and very heavily built. But he was young, no more than 25, probably not vastly experienced in dealing with people, and judging by the looks of him, he was employed because of his physical presence rather than his brain power.
I had breezed past him and gotten my desk between us, which for me was always one of those weird psychological things – like the barrier it created put me in a position of strength. I hoped it served to remind him that this was my domain. Territory secured, I knew that next I had to keep hold of the dialogue. I sat down, and beckoned him to do the same.
“Now, Mr...? Sorry, I don’t believe my PA caught your name, what shall I call you?”
He looked a little unsure – not of his name, you understand, but that by now he should be
“So what was the official verdict?”
“It was all so bizarre and difficult to explain that it was agreed, seeing as the guy was a John Doe, that SHC would be the best explanation, providing no-one asked too many questions. But in truth, they didn’t have a God damn clue. Because the incident coincided with sunrise their best guess was maybe some kind of photosensitive reaction to ultra violet light, but it would have been off the chart and incomparably larger than anything anyone has ever seen before. Photosensitives get bad sunburn in direct sunlight, but they don’t explode.”
I left Edgar to the rest of his lunch and headed back to the car. The city was dirty, but these reports were just plain crazy. I wondered just what the hell was going on here?
My rational mind was still trying to keep things in balance, and for all the bizarre stuff going on it kept repeating to me that there had to be a completely logical explanation. But... The rest of me could not help itself, I was a detective, I have a deductive mind, and it was leaping to some awkward conclusions. People vanishing, strange shadow-like figures, mysterious consignments of human blood and people exploding in sunlight. My rational mind was screaming, ‘Bullshit!’ But my deductive mind was reluctantly saying, ‘Vampires...’
*
I knew something wasn’t quite right the moment I got back to the office.
“Hi, sweetheart, how’s it been here?”
Lydia said nothing. She put one finger to her lips to indicate I be quiet and gestured me over to her desk. Once I was close enough she whispered into my ear.
“Johnny, there’s a guy in your office, he just turned up, he’s built like a brick shithouse and is demanding to speak to you. I think he could be mob.”
“Sure, thanks for the heads up.” I whispered back, “listen, I’ll go in, if things get crazy, you just get out, get a few blocks away then call the cops, alright?”
“Be careful, Johnny, please .”
I wasn’t sure how to play this. I was known to the mob, most PI’s were, and sometimes we had to ask questions that revealed things that perhaps they’d rather we didn’t know about. And sometimes that required a little, polite word in the PI’s ear, just a subtle warning across the bow to say, ‘hey, stand down.’
I hadn’t dug too deep into the mob’s operations in this case – or at least I didn’t think I had. I was reasonably confident that the guy in my office was here just to talk – but at the back of my mind was the possibility that I could walk in there and the son of bitch might just put a slug through my temples. And so it was, with trepidation, that I opened the door. I decided I would take what I called the ‘unshakable’ approach, and with a deep breath and a shot of courage, I strode diminutively into the room.
“Good afternoon, apologies if you’ve been waiting a while for me, I’ve been having one of those days.”
I marched past the man and got a good look at his features. He was a big guy. Seriously big, I reckon he must have been a tleast 6’5” – and very heavily built. But he was young, no more than 25, probably not vastly experienced in dealing with people, and judging by the looks of him, he was employed because of his physical presence rather than his brain power.
I had breezed past him and gotten my desk between us, which for me was always one of those weird psychological things – like the barrier it created put me in a position of strength. I hoped it served to remind him that this was my domain. Territory secured, I knew that next I had to keep hold of the dialogue. I sat down, and beckoned him to do the same.
“Now, Mr...? Sorry, I don’t believe my PA caught your name, what shall I call you?”
He looked a little unsure – not of his name, you understand, but that by now he should be
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