It’s him. Count Dracula. He’s repeating the story from his novel. Which means that as soon as he’s powerful enough… he won’t stop until the rivers run red with innocent blood.
“What are these dotted lines?” I asked, pointing to the map.
“Those connect real estate sales in the areas where the dirt was stolen. I figured that if Dracula is following the plan from his book, he’ll be acquiring property in England to house his graves. I’ve been tracing property sales in the areas around where the deaths and burglaries are happening, but so far I haven’t found a convincing pattern that will point conclusively to any particular addresses. It would help if I knew whether his tastes ran to Victorian semi-detached or modernist apartments.”
I threw my arms around Morrie’s neck. “Thisisgenius. You’ve done half the work, Morrie. With this map, we can trace Dracula’s movements. It looks as if he’s moving through the Midlands and up the country. It will only take a bit of sleuthing to figure out which properties he’s purchasing. If I remember rightly from the book, to destroy him we simply have to find all his graves and destroy them. Then, if we injure him he won’t be able to heal.”
“Iama genius.” Morrie leaned in for a kiss. “Why don’t you show me just how clever you think I am?”
I kissed him, because he was indeed very clever, and also because there was the tiniest hint of vulnerability in his voice. Morrie tasted like… like deception and desperation. I pushed down my doubts and lost myself in his lips, his fingers trailing across my cheek, his other hand brushing over my nipple…
“Stop canoodling and get me out of here.” Heathcliff barreled through us, tearing my lips from Morrie’s. He stalked down the street toward the green. Morrie and I scrambled to our feet and rushed after him.
I jogged alongside him as he stalked across the green, heading to Butcher Street like his life depended on it. “How’d it go?”
“That woman is a weapon of mass destruction,” Heathcliff said. He reached up and rubbed a stain on his collar.
“Is that… lipstick?” I said.
“You told me to be convincing,” he growled. “I couldn’t exactly tell her to get off me.”
Did I want to know what happened in there? My mind flashed back to Danny and Amanda in the closet at Nevermore.Nope, I definitely don’t want to know.
“So, did you find out anything?”
“I’ve confirmed what we already knew. Brian was deep in debt. Danny was taking him to court to get his rights reverted on his books so he could self-publish them. If Danny won, Brian would be ruined. It sounds as if Danny’s announcement about his memoirs was the icing on the cake.” Heathcliff rubbed at another lipstick stain on his cuff. “What’s more, Amanda was helping Danny with his case, by giving him documents showing Brian hadn’t been paying all his royalties. Apparently Amanda was convinced Danny was going to leave Penny so the two of them could run off together. She was showing off a diamond necklace Danny gave her.”
“Wow. Anything else?”
“Yes. Amanda does a bit of admin work for her husband at the publishing house. She said that the woman, Beverly, contacted her a few days ago, pretending to be a literary agent scouting for new talent. She asked lots of questions about Danny’s schedule. Amanda sent her a free ticket to the event and the draft of Danny’s memoir she found on Brian’s hard drive. I think she was trying to stir up trouble.”
“Interesting. Beverly said she’d seen the posters of the event around town and purchased the ticket herself,” Morrie said.
“Exactly.” Heathcliff glowered. “So if she’s so innocent, why did she lie?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Why didn’t you tell me Amanda gave you a free ticket?” I asked.
Beverly paced the length of her cell, wringing her hands. “Because I thought it would make me look more guilty, okay? Like I’d been stalking Danny for weeks, waiting for the perfect chance to strike.”
“And were you?”
She nodded grimly. “Ever since his new book came out. I can’t explain it – it made me crazy. Seeing him on TV or Youtube videos talking about it, reading passages about garroting, taking gleeful pleasure in what he put his character through. All I wanted to do was write to the venues and request they cancel the events. I know it’s bloody pointless, but the media already made it clear they’re not interested and I had to trysomething. It was her who encouraged me to go along and stir up a fuss.”
“Amanda? How come?”
“How should I know?” Beverly shrugged. “She said she’d give me the ticket and Danny’s manuscript if I went and said my piece and made sure everyone was looking. As if I’d want to read a memoir that was full of lifes! I deleted the file right away.”
“But you decided to go to the event?”
Beverly nodded. “Amanda said if I should yell at anyone, it should be her husband the publisher – he was the one who put the book out. She even said I should say that to the TV cameras if I saw any. Well, I hardly got the chance before your lug of a colleague kicked me out, but I had a right go at him outside. That’s all I can tell you. Now, get out of here. They’re about to serve breakfast and I don’t want to eat the medieval gruel that passes for food in here in front of you.”
* * *
As soon as I walked through the door to the flat, Jo thrust a wine glass into my hand. “Wow, it’s as if you have magical mind-reading powers,” I smiled as I took a sip. After the day I had, I needed wine in an IV.
“I’ve got to try and make up for the biblical plague,” Jo smiled back. “And I’ve made Bolognese, too.”
