Chapter 11
Adam put the torch on the wall of the cave. It was kind of like the cell where Barnabas had once kept him. It would do.
"You plan to bring Quentin in here?" Angelique asked him.
She was reluctant to do this. But Adam had impressed on her that she owed him. and Adam had also something that she wanted, so she had to pay for it.
"I will have to hold him somewhere. I wish that I could put Barnabas here, so that he'd know how it feels like."
"He knows. Worse than this."
"We will need Carl Collins' help. It tried to summon him, but I think that I did it wrong."
Angelique hesitated. But Carl Collins could not touch Barnabas and she would arrange so that it stayed that way. As for Quentin, well, she could do something about that, too.
"I can raise Carl for you." she said.
"Good. All that I need now is the portrait to work on. And Quentin to see what results it has. A sort of guinea pig."
"What do you know of Quentin's portrait?"
"Quite a bit. You see, it was not the only portrait that Tate painted."
"You know of another one?"
"I do" And his tone made it clear that he did not wish to discuss it further.
She was at the address now. She had been knocking at the door, but no one answered. She had tried phoning in, with the same results If there was someone inside, that someone was in a deep sleep.
In a way, it was frustrating. On the other hand it meant that she risked little interference when she got it.
It would be breaking and entering, of course. But she doubted that Verhoff would want to prosecute.
And she would get an exclusive story about Sigmund Freud...
Now, as to how to get in... well, she had learned something along the way, hadn't she?
Vicky packed her bags. She had to leave Collinwood. Leave before Carolyn fired her. It was better for her pride if she was the one slamming the door.
Her anger was not longer white hot. But it was there. She owed nothing to Carolyn Collins, nor to any other Collins (except for Barnabas, of course, but then he was not part of the charmed circle anymore). They owed her, and she would not let Carolyn's temper tantrums make her forget it.
She thought again of Phillip... What would he say if he knew how he had put his child at risk? He was probably dead... like all men that she dealt with... But if she could keep the baby, then it she would have rescued something of the wreckage of her life.
She had to go back to Barnabas. But she preferred not to. He too was mourning Liz, and this was a pain that she did not want to exacerbate by her presence. She could go to the hotel, and pay it back by her work. There was plenty of work that could be done sitting down.. Or stay with the Loomises, with a promise to pay them back when she found work.
She had to get out of Collinwood. She had to leave behind her foolish dreams of being secretly a princess. She was not, She was a working stiff, like most of the people around her. She had to earn her keep, and not see it as a disgrace, but as a right...
She was no longer a foolish child. She was a grown woman and had to behave like one.
She went down the stairs, carrying her bag. There were other things that she might have to come back for. But they could wait. She had to cross the door, breathe the clean air outside and wipe her feet as she left.
She did not belong in Collinwood. She never did.
Carolyn was looking at her, as she came down. Vicky did not address her. She waited until Carolyn fired the first salvo.
"So you are leaving, are you?" She said, acidly.
"Yes. This is not a healthy environment for my child."
"You wanted my mother dead..."
"If you have bothered to warn her not to touch a pregnant woman, and not to endanger a child in the womb as she did, none of this would have been necessary. Why didn't you tell her not to?"
"I...I thought..."
"You did not care. I see. I am not fully human. I am only a servant, and you can dispose of me and my unborn child as you wish. Well, I have had enough of you and your aristocratic family. I am going to make my own way."
Carolyn looked at her stupefied. Vicky dared to judge her! Did she know who she was talking to?"
"You better get ready the settlement you want to make before I up the amount in exchange not to sue you."
And before Carolyn answered, she went out the door.
Well, she was now guilty of breaking and entering. But you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs. she thought that no one had seen her get in. And she hoped that there were no human caretakers around.
It was a risk worth taking. And she had told Amy Jennings where she would be. If anything happened to her, Amy would tell it to Barnabas. No matter how estranged they were, Barnabas still cared for her.
But there was no one inside. Either Verhoff had no caretaker or whoever it was had gone to Collinsport too.
She found the desk easily. There were papers there. Textbooks. She lifted one of them. Published in the last century. And written in German (or was it Austrian?) language She caught the dedicatory. To Siegfried Verhoff, Signed by Sigmund Freud.
And it was genuine. She had seen samples of the handwriting. She held her breath as a tingly feeling crept up her spine. She laid the book down and photographed the dedication.
There were other papers. She tried to read them, but they were in German, too. And probably, even if they were in English, she would not be able to read them. Verhoff might well be addicted to the jargon laid down and codified by the old man himself.
Probably the files had case histories, but again, they would not be in English. And before she started digging them out she would look around to see if there was something else around that she could use against Verhoff.
If Amy was right, it was at this address. He hoped that Amy was wrong, that there was no danger stalking Barnabas. Better to find out that he had wasted his time and gas.
By the way, how was Barnabas doing these days? He was out of touch. He did not know if Barnabas had gone back to Iris. Or was Iris still in Wyncliffe?
Maybe Sandy had managed to seduce him, after all. She always wanted Barnabas...
He wondered if Barnabas and Sandy would have a future together.
Well, that would be for later to worry about. First he had to make sure that Barnabas was all right.
There were coffins all over the floor. In spite of herself Oriana gasped. This was just a vampire colony...
And the coffins were so small... they must be midgets... or children.
She moved closer. It could not be.. but... She lifted the lid of the one closer to her.
It was a boy. A freckle-faced innocent boy. His eyes were closed and his face was expressionless. Little fang points peeked from under his upper lip.
She wanted him fascinated. A vampire child. How old could he be? How could such a child exist? How could it happen?
There was a larger coffin, almost adult sized. She went to it, wanting to know how old the occupant could be.
Something cracked under her foot and she was yanked upwards.
She screamed, more in surprise than in pain. She was caught in a net and hoisted high up in the air.
Caught. No wonder there were no caretakers. The place was booby trapped. Any intruder would be captured and...
And what would they do to her once they woke up?
She fought down panic remembering that she had once been equally helpless waiting for a vampire to wake up, and it had turned out all right. And these, after all, were kids.
Still, for how long would she have to wait, hanging there? She would soon be getting bored, not to mention hungry and thirsty. True, waiting for Barnabas to wake up had been more uncomfortable.
The sun was quite high in the horizon. She would have to wait quite a bit, then.
She could not free herself from the net. It was metal, not chance of breaking it. She had just to be patient, then. And hope that the adult in the large coffin would listen to reason.