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Josef Kostan looks down the hall observing Coraline outside of Mick and Beth's door. Oscar had alerted him to her visit and would have been more than willing to physically intervene, she would be so easy to kill right now… obsessed as she is with Mick. Coraline startles when Josef places a hand on her shoulder.
"Ahhhh, Coraline… It's been such a long time since we've been in New York together… let's reminisce in my room." She won't refuse… this floor is Josef Kostan's territory… he's taken every room. "I've finallymet your charming brother, Coraline… and might I add he is the only reason you are alive right now."
Josef's room is done in grays and blacks. "Help yourself to a drink from the fridge, Coraline. This is a working visit, I can't offer you fresh." Josef thinks, you won't drink from my freshies ever again. As they enter, he walks over to close the door on the adjoining room, where Simone and her team are researching the board members of the Whitley Trust, analyzing their financial interests and vulnerabilities.
"It's time you moved on, Coraline, and let Mick live his life." Josef looks at her; he's never understood her obsessions, the drama she insists on creating in the name of love. Sex with her was always exciting, her freshies desperate to be bitten and scarred.Love for her is stalking, seduction, sex and pain, and Josef could never really join her as she burned. He sees her more clearly than ever; she's addicted to Mick's pain, guilt and love. Mick, you're a better man than I'll ever be… you remember that you loved her once… I would crush her for you if I could.
Coraline shrugs, "Beth will die, she can't be Turned or ever offer Mick immortal love… I'll be there to catch him when he falls… he always falls." Finishing her drink, she walks from the room… daring Josef to catch her, stop her, fight her and fuck her.
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Beth looks up, Mick is beginning to frighten her; this intensity and that his mind is elsewhere, not in the present. Does he even know I'm here?She begins to breathe, counting the length of each inhale and exhale as Oscar has taught her. When her mind is calm she uses a matter of fact tone to say, "Mick, you're squeezing me so hard I can't breathe."
"Oh…" he startles, "oh." The reverie is broken. Mick lays her on the bed gently as if she is made from glass and then turns, incapable of facing her.
Beth gets up to wrap her arms around his waist, laying her head against his back. "What just happened, Mick?" Her voice is soft and soothing. She can feel Mick's hand reach up to cover her own.
"I thought I could make love to you… then Coraline, she was outside our door." His voice was breathless and low, Beth could hear his pain and confusion.
"Oh, Mick…" she turns him around to face her, reaching up to push back his hair and then standing on her tip toes to kiss him gently on the lips. "Come lay down with me, tell me what Coraline did to you when she Turned you."
"I knew I was dead, Beth... and somehow that Coraline had killed me. I was cold, not like the chills... I'd been around enough bodies in the war to know whatever thing 'it' is... soul, spirit, breath... that separates the living from the dead was gone. I was lying in my own blood. All my senses were focused on my pain... light hurt... hunger... and Coraline was more beautiful than ever... I really thought I was in hell. I had been alive, in love maybe... with the most amazing woman I had ever seen and then... I was dead and hungry, every appetite food, sex, emotion... burned to be satisfied... and Coraline was there... I needed her... I needed the monster... to be a monster with her. "
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Beth is sleeping and Oscar is guarding the door when Mick leaves to join Josef and Simone down the hall. The humans are looking a little frayed from the long hours; they've been working since they got on the plane. Fresh coffee and snacks are available at a table set to one side.
"Hey, Josef, Simone, what do we have?"
Simone smiles her gentle smile, "Whitley had a hard time finding board members willing to be publicly anti-vampire so it's a small executive board only seven, all we need is four members willing to vote in our favor and we can control the board. She hands lists of the board members to Mick and Josef.
Dolores Whitley-Sanderson
Enrico Whitley
Bishop Racine
Edward Morris-Thaw
Jamie Van Allen
Franklin Graveside
Louise Fortune
"There appears to be a three person voting block; Dolores Whitley-Sanderson is John Whitley's sister and Enrico Whitley is her son; they are likely to be tightfisted with the board's money regardless of Whitley's intentions. They are angry that Whitley didn't leave his money to them and are going to resist any expenditure. They will be most interested in funneling money to projects which support their own interests. Enrico may be a problem in the future, his father was a polo player from Italy and he's never worked a day in his life… for themoment he's dependent on his mother's allowance.
"Bishop Racine is close to Whitley-Sanderson, she's a major benefactor of the Church here in New York. He's against everything modern and is a supporter of the increased use of exorcism and a return to the Mass in Latin. They would all be trouble for us if the Pope issued an edict against vampires… the Pope however seems to have better things to do."
Josef mutters, "Latin, the undead language… now that always works against vampires. It bores us to death."
Mick suggests with a straight face, "Racine would endorse the effectiveness of holy water as vampire repellent or Enrico would support research on preventing vampire bats from feeding on polo ponies."
"Fortunately Dan Brown, who wrote The Da Vinci Code,won't be writing any books about vampires and the Catholic Church."
"Josef, what did you do?"
"All his researchers also work for me." Josef says with a smug smile
Simone yawns, "Will you two stop it… I'm not being paid enough to stay up and listen to you. Edward Morris-Thaw…"
Josef's attention is immediately focused on matter at hand, "Morris-Thaw I will approach him personally."
Simone adds, "Sorry, Mick, you and I will have Van Allen and Graveside… neither of whom can stay faithful to the women they marry."
"Simone! I'm not going to entrap them with incriminating pictures of you, ah… y'know, sitting on their lap. Josef would kill me."
"Mick, you're blushing, or you would be… we'll each take one and Louise Fortune is looking for investors for her new line of shoes, the Kostan Financial Group can approach her easily with an offer of capital investment. Whitley found her because there was a typo in her last press release 'even vampires would kill for these shoes,' read instead 'kill vampires with these shoes." Josef shutters at the thought of investing in Goth fashion.
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Mick arrives at their room with coffee and some newspapers; he tips the papers, an imperceptible salute to Oscar, who's standing outside the door. "Beth told me about doing the crossword puzzle."
Oscar smiles cryptically, "I have simple tastes, codes, anagrams and country music." He walks away humming tunelessly "Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys".
"What was Coraline up to?" Oscar asks.
Mick replies tiredly, "Josef dealt with her."
Oscar's tone of voice is fatalistic, he knows this isn't the end of Coraline, and he pauses as if there were more to say. Finally, with a nod to indicate Beth, he says, "Luck… to you both," and walks off down the corridor.
Beth is awake and dressed, sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through files on her laptop, "Coffee... for me?" Mick grins at her as he steps to her over to hand her the coffee "Thanks, Mick."
"You're not usually this excited to go into the DA's office," Mick says handing her the coffee and dropping the papers on the bed.
"I miss it." Sipping her coffee Beth makes a satisfied sound, as she continues to read articles on her computer. "I don't miss the new Buzzwire. But I miss being a reporter…We have a staff meeting at the Daily Star at 7AM and the editor has arranged an interview with the Cable Access Show guys at 10. Oscar's going as my audio/pod cast guy." She looks up and catches Mick's eye. "You're giving me a look…"
"No. I'm not." He looks away uncomfortably.
"Yes, you are… giving me THE look. The one that says, you expect me to dosomething stupid or dangerous."
"I don't think that…" Mick gives her a frustrated smile and then sobers again, "I worry..."
"Relax, we're meeting the Legion of Vampire Hunters at the New York Public Library Video Production Facilities." She looks up at him smiling, eyes sparkling, finally she gives the bed a little pat, indicating he should lie down and stretch out beside her while she works. As Mick lies down across the bed, one of the pillows is knocked aside.
"Beth, why is there a stake under this pillow?"
"Hmmmmm, yeah, Mick?" Beth answers in a distracted voice
"You're keeping a stake in the bed!" Mick raises himself up on one elbow giving her a questioning look.
"Oh, toss that over by my purse, would you." Damn it, Mick thinks, he can't really read her emotions right now, is it because she is only half paying attention to him or is she so engrossed in her work?
"You weren't planning to use that on me, were you?"
Beth leans back to give him a quick kiss, "No, I wasn't, don't be silly." God, she's been hanging out with Oscar too long… when did she get so stingy with information? "Relax, Mick."
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Beth is definitely the newbie at the New York Daily Star staff meeting. She doesn't rate a seat at the conference table and has to perch against the wall; her presence barely gets a nod from the other reporters and columnists. So what if Josef pulled strings to get her here, she's going to enjoy it while she can. The headlines are amazing,* "Petcka testifies that he was terrorized by 7-lb. cat" "He towed cars & sold 'em – police" "Hey, I'm sittin' over here!" "Honor student suspended for 'noogie'" When the city editor introduces her and mentions that she will be reporting on the Whitley Trust and vampire… hunters, several people choke on their coffee.
"There's nothing more in that story… those clowns have had their 15 minutes of fame… it's over."
Beth speaks up, "It's not over if those so-called clowns decide to pursue vigilante justice. They've already accused Larry King of being a vampire… King can take care of himself. What if they decide their neighbor who stays up all night and sleeps days is a vampire? I reported a story in LA where a graduate student took his professor's 'vampire' research way too seriously… two women died because the professor insisted he was a vampire."
Low voiced comments of "whatever, dude" and "cool," are muttered around the table before the subject is changed and a serious discussion ensues over the headline "Bronx Bigamist," versus "Brooklyn Bigamist." The guy in question apparently lived in Brooklyn while four of his five wives live in the Bronx and one in Queens. Fifteen minutes later they settle on headline 4 to 1 Bronx wives v Queens keep Brooklyn Bigamist Busy. "Pound it," knuckles crash against knuckles in celebration of the headline while talk slowly winds down to talk of sports rivalries.
"Beth," at the end of the meeting the city manager calls her over to his office, "We want to send a photographer with you." As she walks into the office Beth is stunned to see Coraline, sitting in the city editor's office, legs extended and elegantly crossed at the ankles. "I believe you've worked with Morgan Vincent before. She tells us that if vampires exist she can get the photographs."
Morgan looks up from the chair beside the desk and looks at Beth with eyebrows arched and a long lazy smile, "Hello, Beth, it will be fun to work together again... just like old times."
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Simone looks at her watch for what seems like the thirtieth time in as many minutes. Franklin Graveside agreed to meet her at his Brooklyn studio. The assistant let her in and it's obvious why John Whitley invited him on the board, he paints giant pictures of staked, dismembered and flayed vampires; dripping transparent washes in black and red to make the figures look like they are trapped in some liquid hell. Simone shudders at the thought of Josef confronted with these paintings. When Simone can no longer stand looking at the violence she turns to stare out windows overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan.
"Ms. Walker, I'm sorry I'm late, call me Frank." Graveside doesn't make immediate eye contact, he's too busy undressing her in his mind. When he does look up he asks disingenuously, but with a good natured smile, "Have you ever modeled for an artist before?." Hearing this from a short round hairy man, she's got him pegged. Hits on every woman, happily cheats on his wife who tolerates him. Breathing a mental sigh of relief, she thinks, Thank god, I don't have to sleep with him.
"No, I haven't, I prefer presenting closing arguments before a judge."
"Oh, you're a lawyer, representing…"
"Kostan Financial Group, Mr. Kostan became intrigued with the Whitley Trust because he followed Mr. Whitley's investments."
Frank roars with laughter, "You'd be amazed how many people are curious. It's such a bizarre way to leave your money, vampires and vampire hunters… pretty outrageous, huh. Still it's good for me, vampires are in style and I may be able to sell a painting or two because I'm on the board."
"Have any of these so-called vampire hunters approached the board for financial support?"
Frank is suddenly serious, "There's the cable kids… not kids really, but I call them kids, the vampire conspiracy buffs, they just want to make a movie. There have been a few inquiries, scary guys who want surveillance equipment and weapons… I'm against that. I'm a vet from the first Iraq war and Bosnia… my shrink at the VA got me painting as therapy… I just Goth up my memories in vampire imagery and it sells."
Simone thinks, no wonder the violence in the paintings looks so real, "Mr. Kostan's interests are to prevent just that sort of private army that might target innocent people, especially people like himself with an Eastern European heritage."
"No kidding, there are better things to do… war is real and there's no such thing as vampires… I'm not approving anything to do with violence." Frank shakes his head vigorously as if to shake off the somber tone of the conversation, "You should reconsider modeling for me… I think you would look fabulous as a vampire."
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Beth stares fixedly out the window during the cab ride to the library. Fortunately Coraline is riding in the front seat. Beth tries to breathe and control her feelings but she feels so outmatched. Coraline claims the attention of almost every man present just by walking into a room Standing too close to them, talking in that low breathy voice that requires a man to lean in too hear her… then she's her hands are one them... touching them. Beth sees Mick in every one of them… helpless against her charms. Think, Beth… If she's with you… she's not with Mick. Look at Oscar, he's immune… and he growled when Coraline tried to claim the seat next to her in the cab. Inhale Turner… breathe out… repeat… If she's with you… she's not with Mick.
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It's early still. Mick could use more time in the freezer after a long night. He tries not to think about his conversation with Beth about Coraline. Sex and blood, just knowing Coraline's around sends his mind racing down memories of sex so violent they had to call for clean-up. Mick runs his hand through his hair and across his chin…he should have shaved.
The Van Allen's apartment is on 5th avenue overlooking Central Park. Mick rides the elevator to the top floor… before the door is even open he can smell gunpowder and blood. The apartment door is ajar and Mick approaches cautiously, gun drawn. Just inside the door a man and woman are lying crumpled together dead… very little blood is pooled around the bodies which have cooled slightly… they've been dead a half hour or so. Beyond the foyer he can see a woman with blonde hair, which is graying and cut short sitting dejectedly on the couch, gun in hand. She is very thin and livid bruises mark the length of both arms, some old, green and yellow others new, blue and purple. It's a room done all in white, high ceilings, pale furniture and accessories; a cold white light filters through sheer curtains. What happened here?
The blonde had tried to block the woman lying on the floor from entering the apartment… asking, begging, "Jamie, please don't bring your girls here, let me have this one place… I grew up here. He'd just grabbed her forearm in a crushing grip and dragged her out of the way of the new girlfriend. The wife had been just a minor obstacle on the way to the liquor cabinet.
Mick can smell the blonde's memories of this place, growing up here, happier days and the loneliness, the kids are gone. Her husband had been fun once, another big kid with their two boys, the fun dad an anti-workaholic in sharp contrast to her own father who had been driven and largely absent. Jamie had been the kid's buddy but was always critical of her, the little rich girl. She notices him standing there and lifts the gun to her head… Mick is quicker than her intentions, disarming her.
"Did he do this to you?" Mick indicates her arms.
She nods and asks, "Who are you… and why did you stop me… there's not going to be any more good days." Her eyes are hollow, the life already gone.
"I'm Mick St. John I was going to meet with your husband about the Whitley Trust, you're Grace Van Allen, right?"
Grace swallows and nods before she begins to talk slowly, "Jamie said he wanted more to do… It was a favor to John Whitley, he couldn't find board members and he was my godfather… I'm the alternate now that Jamie's dead. I don't suppose I will be able to serve from prison."
Mick sits beside her listens to her talk about her husband's downward spiral, his multiple trips to rehab and how the children stay away because she won't, rather wouldn't leave him… faithful to memories of better days… "I couldn't take it any more…"Her voice cracks with raw emotions. "Especially my part... I couldn't stand up for myself." Her cold eyes slowly look up to meet Mick's.
"If I gave you the gun back, would you kill yourself?" Mick needs to know, he can't make an offer if she's already dead in her own mind.
"No… I don't think so."
"Why?"
"Talking to you, I realize there are still good memories… if I died I wouldn't have those memories."
"I can make this go away?"
"What? Why?" She looks at him with confusion and disbelief.
"I'd like to say that you don't deserve to go to prison, that you're an abused spouse but I want a favor. I work for a man who is concerned that so-called vampire hunting to be funded by the Whitley Trust, will be used an excuse to target immigrants and minority populations. He's lobbying board members to prevent this."
She looks at Mick like this is a bad dream that maybe she could wake up from.
"Get dressed and I'll take you out to discuss this over coffee."
"Why should I do this?"
"Are you ready to leave your sons alone and miss the rest of their lives?"
"I don't believe this is possible… but I'll listen." She walks slowly toward the back of the apartment to get dressed.
Mick gets out his phone, "Clean up needed."
