Jo and I slid into the booth opposite Connor Mclarey. In the low light of the pub, I couldn’t see his features, but I couldsensehis leer from here. Yep, Jenna’s husband was a real winner.
“Mmmmm, two for the price of one. Can I buy you ladies a drink?” Connor leaned across the table, getting right up in Jo’s face. “If I knew the police were this foxy, I’d get in trouble more often.”
I noticed Jo didn’t correct him about his police comment. “We just have a few follow-up questions, Connor. But I thought we’d do it in a more relaxed environment. You’re not in any trouble, you understand? We’re so sorry for your loss.”
She laced her fingers in his. Connor hung his head, his shoulders shaking in faux sobs. “I’m just so…upset…about Jenna. I miss her so much. She might’ve been a cheating harlot, but she was my girl, y’know? It’s so hard being alone, especially at night, especially in our big king-sized bed.”
“Tell us all about it, poor boy.” Jo stroked his hand. Under the table, she nudged my boot. As much as it made my skin crawl, I reached out and took his other hand, rubbing circles on his knuckles with my fingers.
“We’ll sit with you as long as you need, Connor,” I cooed.
“All we want to know is if Jenna had any connection with Romania. Maybe relatives? Or a business interest?”
“Romania? You mean like…” Connor formed his hands into claws and sticks his tongue out. “I vant to suck your blood.”
“Yeah, that’s the country.”I’m mean, sure, it’s also majestic mountains and communist history and Vlad the Impaler and probably all sorts of other interesting things, but let’s focus on the book written by the Irish theatre-man who never actually visited Romania.
“I dunno. She loved thoseTwilightfilms.” Connor’s voice darkened. “Maybe that’s why she was meetinghimin the graveyard. She wanted to pretend he was a sparkly vampire. Jokes on her that she got drained by the Dracula Killer instead.”
“What do you mean byhim?”
“The Reverend Mosley. He’s the douche-canoe she was cheating on me with.” Connor jerked his hands away and grabbed his drink. “That’s why Jenna was in the cemetery that night. They met there on the nights I worked late and he didn’t have Bible study. They fucked on top of the graves. I think the good father liked slapping her white arse under the moonlight. Jenna thought she was being oh-so-clever sneaking around on me, but she didn’t know I followed her and saw it all.No onemakes a fool of Connor Mclarey.”
“Can you describe this Reverend Mosley?” I glanced at Jo. “We’ve never met him.”
“Tall, longish hair, foppish-looking, with old-fashioned clothes. Real intense eyes.” Connor slapped his fist into his hand. “A tiny dick that I’m going to cut off for messing with my girl. I bet he was the one who killed her. He’s definitely a freak. Yeah, you should be looking at him.”
“Don’t worry, we will.” Under the table, Jo threaded her fingers in mine and squeezed.
That sounds like Dracula to me.
And we’ve never seen this new vicar. That can’t be a coincidence. Dracula is posing as Reverend Mosley.
So our victim was seduced by Dracula and lured to the cemetery that night. He must’ve been meeting her there to get the dirt off her. But where would she get Romanian dirt from?
Chapter Twenty
On the day of the festival bonfire, I’d organized for a leading London occultist to give a talk in the shop’s event space. I’d agreed to display our occult volumes in the shop for an hour before the talk – a rare chance for those so inclined to peruse these rare works. Even though I hadn’t managed to get ahold of Handy Andy to fix the power, we decided to go ahead – the gloom only added to the atmosphere.
From the moment I flipped the sign, Nevermore was abuzz with black-clad men boasting majestic beards and distinctive body odor issues, all chatting politely about the demons they planned to summon and bend to their will. We sold a couple of our rare occult volumes to a guy with a grey beard so long it would make Gandalf jealous, and I endured several incomprehensible lectures about the erotic prowess of various goat-headed deities.
After the talk, when I’d just finished placing every last occult book away upstairs, a spotty youth with his hands shoved deep in his pockets came up to the counter. I didn’t remember seeing him earlier. “Hi, so I heard about this event on the community notice board, but the lecture didn’t answer my questions. I wonder if you have any books about bringing the dead to life again?”
My head snapped up. I gave him my best customer-service smile. “I’m sure you’ll find something in our occult section. It’s over there behind the man with the Satanic Feminist t-shirt.”
The guy shook his head. “I had a look there, but some guy said those books were a lot of nonsense. He said you have some other books.Powerfulbooks.”
Something glittered on his throat, just visible above the collar of his black t-shirt. I couldn’t be sure from this distance, but I was pretty certain it was a crucifix. Either this dude was protecting himself from the Dracula Killer, or he was a member of DIABLO, sent by Dorothy to destroy our books.
I gave him my sweetest smile. “You’re right, we do have some antiquarian books upstairs, but they are viewing by appointment only due to their fragile nature. I can give you a list of titles and if you’re interested in a particular book I’ll have it brought down for you to view.”
He scrambled around in his wallet. I thought he was going to offer me a bribe, but instead, he held out a picture of a scruffy-looking dog. “This is Angus. He died last week and I…I’m not…I miss him soooo much.”
His body convulsed with sobs.By Athena, if this is an act, it’s a bloody good one.
“Can I offer you a tissue?”
He took one from the box I proffered and honked into it. “I want to bring him back from the dead. But I need the spell to bespecific. Only for dogs – that’s very important. He’s buried in the garden next to my ex-wife, and I don’t want her coming back.”
