She raised her eyebrows in a particularly patronising fashion. I couldn’t blame her; I was starting to feel that up till now I’d led a very sheltered life.
‘There are very few real vampires in them,’ she told me. ‘Most of the strippers are human women hoping to catch some highly placed vampire’s eye and get themselves turned. Not that you’d catch someone like Lord Horvath frequenting such an establishment.’
I had a sudden image of the head of the vampires as a stern old bloke with a grey moustache and a neatly trimmed beard who would never demean himself by lolling around a bar, let alone one filled with near-naked women.
‘Yeah,’ Fred agreed. ‘The last thing he needs is to go trolling for birds.’ Birds?
‘Sorry,’ he continued, seeing my expression. ‘Women.’
‘Is that because he’s already in a committed relationship?’ I asked.
He barked a laugh. ‘No! Because he’s got women of all ages and types throwing themselves at him all day long. The man’s virtually got his own harem.’
Oh. That made more sense.
‘The vamps are all about fun,’ Fred said. ‘And the wolves are all about seriousness and stiff upper lips.’ There was a wistful note to his tone. I cast him a sidelong glance and wondered if he had a hankering to be turned. I thought he seemed far too lethargic to fit in with either group.
‘How old is Lord Horvath?’
‘About seventy, give or take. And no,’ Liza continued, before I could ask my next question, ‘he’s not immortal. Vamps live for longer than we do, but they can’t avoid the circle of life forever. Their lifespan is about double ours.’
‘What about the wolves? How long do they live?’
Her brow creased. ‘It’s difficult to say. Best guess is about the same as us. But due to accidents,’ she drew quotation marks in the air, ‘when they’re in animal form, the wolves’ average life expectancy tends to be lower.’
‘Do they ever come here? Any of them?’
‘No. I doubt it would occur to a supe to drop by. The biggest groups – both vamps and werewolves – think that we’re too weak, too stupid and too sentimental to be bothered with. Both of them turn humans when they need to boost their numbers, but they’re very picky about who they take on. That,’ she conceded, ‘and the fact that their numbers were capped by the government at the turn of last century.’
I dredged up what I could remember from my history classes. ‘The 1901 Limiting Act?’
Liza snapped her fingers. ‘That’s the one. It’s next to impossible to be turned into a supe by accident either. There are a lot of rules around bites and a lot of safeguards in place to prevent mistakes from being made.’
I picked up a pen from the desk and twirled it. Casual, Emma, I told myself. Act casual. ‘Tell me more about the other supes. Are any of them immortal? Or, uh, undead?’
Fred blinked. ‘Undead? What, you mean like zombies?’
I managed a weak laugh.
‘Or like ghosts?’
I did my best to look uninterested. ‘It was just a thought.’
‘You’ve been reading too many horror stories,’ Liza said. ‘Believe me, things are shitty enough around here as it is without dead supes walking around.’ She paused and looked at me. ‘Why? What have you heard?’
I was saved from answering by the ring of the telephone. Picking up the receiver, I was relieved to hear Molly’s warm, familiar voice.
‘Alright,’ she said briskly, ‘I haven’t been able to find out a huge amount. The DC in charge of the investigation has several other cases on the go, and apparently there’s a delay on Jane Doe’s post-mortem, which is holding everything up.’
I sent out a brief prayer of gratitude to Laura. ‘No leads then?’
‘Not so far.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I get the impression that the folks around here are inclined to let it go because of the location of the murder.’
I sucked in a breath. ‘Let it go? She was a person, Molly. Just because she died near the supes’ areas shouldn’t mean that she’s forgotten!’
‘Whoa, Emma. I agree with you but it’s hardly my call. Once she’s identified, I’m sure more will be done.’
Except by that point, any trail would be cold. A trickle of doubt ran through me. Was I shooting myself in the foot by not coming clean? What if all this smoke and mirrors malarkey meant that my murderer got away scot-free?
I took a breath and reminded myself that none of this was Molly’s fault. I had to stay focused. ‘Do you know if DC Anthony Brown from Supe Squad has been in to check on progress?’ I asked.
‘Yes.’
I straightened up. ‘Is he there now?’ I demanded.
‘Sorry, Emma. I mean yes, I do know if he’s been in and no, he hasn’t. Everyone here has been waiting for him to show up and cause problems – supposedly that’s what he always does when there’s a crime related to his turf. But there’s been no sign of him yet.’
Was that because I’d somehow scratched him during the attack? Maybe he was hiding until his wounds healed. Or was it because something terrible had happened to him, too.
‘The general consensus,’ Molly continued, ‘is that Tony Brown is a pain in the arse. I heard he was sent to Supes for attacking a superior officer. What’s he been like with you?’
I barely heard the question. All I could think about was that Tony had a history of violence. I’d not provoked him – but maybe he hadn’t needed to be provoked.
I shook off my doubts. He was definitely the most likely suspect. Regardless of motive, there was no point hearing hooves and then expecting zebras. Tony was the one who’d lured me to St Erbin’s; Tony was surely my killer.
‘Jeremy has been texting me, you know,’ Molly said, changing the subject abruptly. ‘He wants to know what’s happening with you.’
I stiffened and focused back on the conversation. ‘What did you tell him?’
‘Nothing yet. What the hell is going on, Emma? I thought you two were tight.’
‘We were!’ I protested. ‘I mean we are. I just …’ Shit. ‘I just have a lot on my plate at the moment, and he doesn’t understand how important this training is to me.’
‘It’s only going to get worse after we graduate.’
I grimaced. If I graduated. I wouldn’t bank on any certainties any more. ‘Yeah.’
‘You’re too good for him,’ Molly said. ‘He knows he’s punching above his weight.’
I rolled my eyes. As if. Job aside, I was the most ordinary person in the world, whilst Jeremy possessed the sort of blond, white-teethed, wholesome good looks that many women went for. ‘Hardly.’
‘Whatever you say.’ She said it good-naturedly, but I couldn’t stop myself feeling a twinge. If I couldn’t wrap my head around what had happened to me, then Jeremy certainly couldn’t. And I couldn’t risk the possibility that he’d also become a target. I had to find Tony and speak to him. And quite possibly arrest him. Then I’d deal with the fall-out with Jeremy.
‘Thanks for calling, Molly,’ I told her. ‘And thanks for finding out that info for me. If Jeremy bothers you again, tell him that I’m busy working. And if you hear anything else to do with Jane Doe…’
‘I’ll keep you posted.’ She hesitated. ‘Stay safe, Emma.’
I swallowed. ‘I will.’
Chapter Nine
Both Liza and Fred clocked off early. Considering the lack of activity around the Supernatural Squad office, I didn’t blame them. I waved them off, mumbling something about doing the same very soon. Then, as soon as they’d gone, I scooted over to Tony’s desk.
His workspace was far tidier than his car. The only things sitting on the top of his desk were his computer, an old silver paperweight and a tub filled with some chewed pens.
I sat down in his chair and started to open the drawers. I wasn’t sure what I’d find but, given his lack of appearance today and the way he’d lured me out last night, my suspicions had grown into near certainties. Although it was unusual for him not to answer his phone, neither Liza nor Fred seemed concerned about his absence. But it was too much of a coincidence for me. Coupled with the juicy titbit about his violent past, I could longer deny that he was involved in my murder. That thought was more than enough to quash any guilt I felt at snooping through his stuff.
Not that there was much to snoop through. Most of it seemed to be little more than filched office supplies. From the vast collection of pens, each with a different logo, taking equipment from other places appeared to be something of a hobby of Tony’s. I guessed it was one way to pass the time.
I rifled a bit more and found an old envelope with an electricity bill inside. The address wasn’t for Supe Squad but for a flat not too far away. Given that it was in Tony’s name, that had to be his home. I allowed myself a small smile of satisfaction. It was better than nothing; at least now I knew where to go once I’d run out of leads in the office.
Turning on the computer, I crossed my fingers in the hope that I’d be able to access his files. He’d enquired about my computing skills when we first met, so I doubted that he spent much time on his machine. I’d already come across a few old-school detectives who avoided them like the plague.
The computer whirred into life and Tony’s login screen appeared. I chewed my bottom lip and gazed at the blinking password cursor. Three attempts and then, without further IT support, I’d be locked out. I wrinkled my nose and did my best, my fingers flying across the keys. Tallulah. It was as good a guess as any. Alas, it was wrong.
I made a face and abandoned the computer for now. Perhaps inspiration would strike later. Instead, I glanced again at the electricity bill. Confronting Tony in his own home might not be the smartest of moves, but I was running out of patience. I wanted to know for certain that he had killed me – and why.