Chapter Nine Three O'Clock Blues
3:00a.m. Wednesday morning
I gave up on going back to my dump and tried to catch a few zeds on my couch. It'd done double-duty before. I was half awake and counting the water spots on the ceiling when somebody scratched on the front door. I could make out a woman's silhouette through the glass. I snatched open the door and nearly pulled Harmony Kendall off her stylish red leather pumps. She looked kinda rough for a rich gal.
Oh, Mr. Harris! I just didn't know what else to do. She started sniveling as soon as she got inside, her gloved hands fluttering like a pair of blackbirds. Please, you've just got to help me!
My eyes were barely open and I hadn't had any coffee . I blinked a couple of times and tried to focus in on her. She looked pale and disheveled. Her hands kept jumping around as she pawed restlessly through all the junk on my desk, and her eyes shifted uneasily around the room, looking for something in the dark.
I think...I think someone was killed tonight. she stuttered.
Someone's killed almost every night around here.
It was a man. Someone I know... knew. there was blood...everywhere!
Want me to call the cops for you?
She jumped and squealed, No! It was him! Devon!
Now she had my attention. Devon LaBonte, her so-called blackmailer, dead. Lots of blood. This was adding up to something.
Where was this?
She got all girlish and coy, curling up on the couch. Near a bar. Willy's, maybe? She was nervous, twisting a big diamond and emerald bracelet around her arm. He was just there. I don't know what happened. I just woke up and there he was. The blood was just everywhere! I saw my car and I ran! I came here, to you. She gave me the big eyes, You believe me, don't you? I'm so afraid.
She buried her face in her gloved hands and her shoulders shook. I patted her back a little and mumbled something soothing. Man, this case smelled worse than three week old fish. Middle of the night, the worst part of Sunnydale, and she happens to find her dead blackmailer. Had to be the same mysterious dead guy Finn was yapping about.
You're doped to the gills, aren't you, honey? I said calmly, trying to sound like the old family physician. I held her wrist below the fancy bracelet.
What? No, of course I'm not... I.. Wide eyes, dilated pupils, quick thready pulse--sure, she wasn't.
Either that, or you're lying to me again.
I swear, Mr. Harris, I was at home asleep. Then I was just there-- on the street. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe I imagined it all. Her eyes filled with bright tears and her glistening red lips trembled. That must be it, don't you think?
I patted her some more and sent her on her way. Her diamonds made fireworks in the dusty hallway. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Sometimes I just can't help myself.
I was wide awake now, so I figured I may as well go home and grab a shower and a change of shirts. After that, I'd hit the all night diner for a little chow, then try and run down that damned elusive vampire.
Wednesday Morning 8:00 a.m.
Nighthawk Cafe
I was polishing off a large order of waffles when Lieutenant Finn strolled into the Nighthawk and plonked down into the chair across from mine.
Where's he at?
I resisted the urge to correct his grammar and possibly start a fight in the middle of my favorite restaurant, so I played dumber. Who's that?'
I could see steam rising from behind the tight collar of his wrinkled white shirt. That vampire. Spike. He ground out.
I polished off the waffles and motioned for a refill of my coffee. Haven't seen him since last night.
Finn curled his lip, I hear he's doing some snooping for you.
You heard wrong. I don't work for demons or with them.
Yeah, but you don't mind pitching a little woo with I didn't like his insinuations any better this morning, but I didn't bother arguing, just chased down a drop of syrup with the last crumb of waffle.
Let's go for a ride, Harris. He was towering over my table again. Now. If you know what's good for you. He threw down a sawbuck on the table and pushed his jacket back so I could see the gold badge.
Keep your shirt on, Lieutenant.
I did want to see what he was up to, so I tagged along. The Crown Vic purred along the empty morning streets. The commuters had already come and gone for the day, rushing off like lemmings to Los Angeles.
After a half hour of aimless wandering, I figured out where he was going. The cemetery.
When're you planning on telling me what this wild goose chase is all about?
Finn pulled over, but didn't answer. He opened up the trunk of the police vehicle and pulled out a gat I knew was not anything like regulation issue. It looked to be some kind of modified .44 Magnum.
He loaded it from a box of armor piercing bullets and gave me a crooked grin. Silver-plated and blessed by the archbishop of San Francisco. AIn't gonna kill the bastard, but it'll hurt like a bitch.
He liked to go for the hurt. Now me, I got no beef with putting away the bad guys, never did, but I got no love for hurting. That was part of the reason we left L.A. But Finn, he liked it. He got results, too. The kind the city fathers loved. Headlines and the big scores. And there was an election coming up.
Finn shoved the crypt door open as far as it would go and peered closely into the cobwebby corners. It was as silent as the proverbial. Finn rolled down the ladder to the enormous bottom level. I'd been down there myself. It would take him some time. I just stood around with my hands in my pockets.
I felt a chilly breeze on my neck and a soft whisper come out of the shadows.
I don't know what he wants.
Don't you? He's proving he's a man. A real man. Better than my filthy breed. He thinks I won't kill him. I noticed he didn't say he wouldn't kill Finn.
Look, I'm sorry about all this. I could hear splintering noises and the crunch of broken glass down below. I'll try and get him to leave.
Don't bother. He'd just keep coming back until he finds whatever he's after.
He doesn't know you.
Spike ran his fingers through his hair. Maybe he likes to live dangerously. We both heard the groan of heavy furniture being heaved around and the cop's loud curses. Perhaps it's time for Finn's get-out-of-hell-free card to be punched.
You won't kill him.
Not me, personally. Spike was a good leader, when he wasn't distracted by beautiful blonde Slayers. I'd seen him in action and he knew how to get it done. Finn was making enemies in the law-abiding demon community. Eventually, he'd just disappear one night. Cease to be a stake in the heart of Demontown. I shivered a little and Spike faded back into the shadows.
tbc
Music: Three O'Clock Blues' B.B. King & Eric Clapton
