Chapter 16 Dear Boss
December 23, Just after two A.M.
I don't know how long I stood there in the hallway staring at her closed office door, but there really wasn't any point in hanging around. I strolled out into the ballroom and looked around at the empty tables floating on a sea of black marble. The only thing left from the Krevlorneswath group earlier was the scent of cigar smoke and a dozen empty glasses.
Anyanka was gone, disappeared, and nobody wanted to tell me where. Probably off with the creep. I was tired of worrying about the whole thing. Love doesn't lead to much of anything, when you come to think of it. Just heartbreak and misery and the occasional dead body. Maybe she was better off with someone like him. Someone who could give her all the pretty things I couldn't. Maybe it just wasn't worth it anymore.
The club was clearing out, just a few diehards left at the bar swilling down the booze. Harry was banging away at the piano...some old sad tune that made me want to put my head down on the bar and weep for opportunities lost...and my own stupidity.
I figured I'd swing by the office, check the messages, maybe make a few calls. Just do something useful, even if it was just catching up on the reams of paperwork piling up. The way I figured it, the night couldn't get any worse. I don't know why I even have those thoughts.
There was a call from Webster on the machine. I thought about it for a minute, and gave him a call. Nobody likes to be roused out this late. Tough luck, news hawk.
'Morning Webs, what didja want?
Harris, I swear to god, He spent several creative minutes thinking up new curse words to call me. I just got home. Whatinhell ya wake me up for?
You called me. Just returning the favor.
Read the paper. he growled, I don't give freebies.
Come on Webs, be a pal... I wheedled.
Okay, okay. There's been another murder, and this time he sent me a souvenir.
Oh brother. I played it cool.
Yeah. Our guy sent a little gift to my office. He was wide-awake now. Gawd. Sure wish I hadn't been the one who opened it.
I had a bad feeling about this. What was it?
A heart. A human heart and a pair of hands, all wrapped up in shiny red paper and tied with a bow. There was a little ditty addressed to me. That meathead Finn gave me the third all night. Shit, All I did was open the damn thing.
Was there a note?
He read it out to me.
Dear Mr. Webster,
Grand work that last job was. I gave them plenty of time to squeal. I'll never forget the way she made me feel. Now I'm going to return the favor.
I do love my work, so I wrote a little song for you.
Three little girls, crying for their mother
She might save one, but I'll have the other
Two little girls, shivering in fright
Cozy in bed in the middle of the night.
At the end there's just one,
Juicy and ripe for my idea of fun.
Au Revoir, from Hell
Don't think I'd ever forget that.
I agreed with him. That was a doozy of a note and there was no doubt who the author was. I'd met the monster face-to-face. He was playing with the Slayer, taunting her, trying to get her to make a false move. Then a thought occurred to me. That last dig at the Stake. Her sister. Juicy and ripe. He was gonna go after Dawn, her only weak spot. I'll never forget the way she made me feel. Now I'm going to return the favor.
I hung up and headed for Crawford Street.
I skidded around a corner, tires kicking and spinning a bit on a tiny patch of ice around a storm drain. Steam was rising from the underground sewage system, making night driving difficult. As I slowed, I spotted Spike standing under a streetlight. I slowed down and got a good look at him. He looked like twenty miles of bad road, his clothes ripped in places and his black duster gone. Something had given him a beating and they hadn't used kid gloves.
Spike! You okay? The Slayer's been looking everywhere for you.
Yeah. Sure. 'M fine.
What happened to you?
His eyes were smashed shut, his black brows drawn down in a tight, painful line. He pried open his eyes and looked at me and whispered through cracked lips, I need to go..to the Slayer...now.
Okay, we can do that, I said, We've been beating the bushes for you for a while. Where have you been?
He thought for a long moment and sighed loudly, Not sure. Underground, mostly.
He seemed out of it, reeling from exhaustion. I hopped out of the car and pulled him toward the front seat. He half fell inside and pulled the door shut with his right hand. He ws stoic during the ride, unusual from someone whose sole raison d'etre seemed to have been to drive me insane with his never-ending stories. He didn't even badger me into changing radio stations. I turned up the volume to compensate for the dead silence. I tried talking again.
What'ya get in a fight with? Sea serpent?
He grunted something unintelligible and slumped further down in the seat. I tried another tack.
Dawn's been asking for you. She's been frantic, y'know. Calling my office a couple of times a day.
He stirred at that and I thought I heard a growl.
The outside of Crawford Street was blazing with light.. Security was tight here, too. I pulled the Desoto up the the main gates of the house. Two burly vampires were on guard, peering through the bars, crossbows cocked and ready.
tbc
Music: Kofi, Harlem Nocturne