Stalking the Darkness
by Aislynn
Disclaimer and warnings:
See Part one (Prologue) for disclaimers and warnings!
Additional warning: SLASH (D / M), don't read it if you don't like it. So, if you don't like that or are under age to read this, turn back now!
And now, on with the story.
Chapter 7: Following Clues
Duncan nipped of his coffee again and pored over the morning paper. The strange beheadings at the university district, of course, still were in the headlines.
"The University Murders" the paper called them, and titled: "Police still without a clue!"
Another, smaller headline continued: "Ritual murder or strange dueling cult?"
Scanning the article, Duncan learned that the public knew thee had been two swords found with the victims. Speculation was that one of the victims had killed the other, but, so the author argued, obviously there had to be a third party involved, since the other victim could hardly have beheaded himself. And apparently the police had found traces of a third blood group on one of the swords. Maybe, the paper speculated, this had been some kind of duel of a secret students corporation, that had gone awry?
On the second side the article continued with a list of all the unsolved beheadings Paris had seen in the last few years starting with the unsolved Kuyler case, 1993.
It was quite a list. A long list, in spite of the fact that it already lacked the ones he and the Watchers had managed to keep off the radar of the police. Duncan closed his eyes at the mentioning of old friends among them, starting with Darius, 1993, killed in his church, and Fitzcairn, just two years later. And nearer to the end of the list there he was – Richard Redstone, known to his friends as Richie Ryan, 1997, found beheaded at a racetrack.
Duncan pushed the paper away.
That one hurt the hardest.
It still hurt like a bleeding wound, even after all that time and all the hard work he had spent trying to come to terms with it.
Duncan lowered his head for a moment, fighting back the pain, then he looked in the paper for news of other murders. There were none.
The killed clochard had not even been worth a footnote.
He looked up again when Methos came out of the bathroom, wearing only a morning coat, and settled himself on the couch, grabbing a croissant and at the same time reaching for the phone. Duncan watched bewildered while he dialed and then started to chat away with some female desk officer like he was getting paid for it. Duncan listened to his lovers call with growing puzzlement.
"Yes, you see, I have to finish this thesis about modern architecture, and it specializes in Rene Klein, and I just heard that Monsieur Klein was here in town, and thought it would help sooo much if I could ask him about his great ideas himself – oh, I see, Madam, thank you! But this would take too long, you see, the paper is due really shortly – oh, please? can't you make an exception? Just this once? It would help me sooo much... Oh, yes thank you, Madam, you are most gracious, you really saved me here, thank you very much... yes maybe some time this week? Yes, thank you very much! Good bye!"
He rang off and put down the phone with a triumphant expression. Duncan stared at him quizzically, grateful for the diversion.
"What was this all about?" He asked. Methos smiled at him, devilishly.
"Rene Klein has no permanent Parisian address," he related, "and he directs all his correspondence over an architectural bureau, but when he stays in town, he uses to reside at the Plaza Athénée. As he did now!"
Duncan furrowed his brows. "Who is Rene Klein?" he asked irritated.
Methos smile widened to a grin. "Hybert de la Mare's lover", he said. "The one who got the invitation de la Mare used to get into Lefebres party. Really hot modern architect, one of the whiz kids. Klein's out of town, now, but his lover may still stay at his place, because Klein has not checked out of his hotel, yet. If he had, the nice lady who just gave me his address would have known about it."
Duncan shook his head. "And who was that nice lady?" he asked with an impressed smile.
Methos shrugged. "desk officer of the day at the architectural chamber here," he said. "She said that Klein was due for some architectural exhibition in the States in a few days but if I was lucky I might catch him still in town, and get an appointment for an interview for my paper."
Duncan gave him a curious look. "And just since when did you take to studying modern architecture?" he asked.
"Since I learned of Klein's interesting boyfriend from one of my students yesterday evening," Methos drawled. "Now, what do you think of a walk down the city? We could visit some famous Parisian haut-couture-residences..."
Duncan gave him a feral grin.
"Excellent idea," he agreed.
-------------------------- o ---------------------------
As they walked down the Quai du Louvre, Duncan asked: "So, what are you going to tell the Desk Officer at that Hotel? The same story?"
Methos shook his head.
"I will not talk to her," he said. "That is your job! After all you are the one no hapless woman can withstand!"
Duncan made a face. "Don't start again!" he warned. "I told you there was nothing with that Lefebre girl."
He had thought the whole thing buried and forgotten by now. Obviously not. He sighed. To diverge the conversation to more safer topics, he asked:
"Besides, how do you know that it will be a woman at the desk? What if it is a man?"
Methos grinned impishly.
"Then I will have a chance to employ my charm," he teased. "I'll take the boy, You get to charm the chamber maids."
So much for safer topics.
"Adam!" Duncan growled, and then continued, "you didn't answer my question."
Methos shrugged.
"We use the same story you told Lefebre: Klein owns a rare piece of art, and you want to buy it from him. You wish to talk to him personally, since you think that way there is a bigger chance of him giving it up."
He raised his brows. "Nice harmless story. Besides, if LeBrun is going to inquire with Lefebre after you, it will be safer to stay with the same tale."
Duncan made a face. "And what of your little architectural study paper?" he asked.
Methos smirked.
"Elegance in anonymity, MacLeod," he said. "The Lady did not get my real name. And if questioned, I can always say I was doing you a favor."
Duncan growled. "Oh, great," he said. "So if they check at the chamber all people inquiring after Klein, they find my number, a strange male with a idiotic cover story, and shortly after that us coming to his place with another."
Methos frowned.
"Why should they check who inquired after him?" he asked.
Duncan shrugged.
"You said he had not checked out of his Hotel" he mentioned. "But he is said to have left town." He cocked his head. "Now if you ask me, this sounds a bit funny, doesn't it?"
Methos made a grimace.
"Maybe the girl at the architectural chamber was not up to the latest news," he said.
Duncan looked grim.
"Or maybe she was, and Klein has become a late night snack."
"Or he simply left his rooms for his boyfriend to stay," Methos offered. "If he wishes to return to town after his trip and pick him up again it may just the thing to do."
Duncan gave him a look.
"Boyfriend of a vampire," he said. "He must have an odd taste, that architect."
Methos gave a mock smile.
"He's of the art crowd," he allowed. "Maybe he's a Goth kid. May just be the thing to do."
He saw Duncans look and shook his head.
"I always said you are too narrow minded."
Duncan made a sour face.
"Just leave the hotel desk to me!" he finally ordered.
--------------- 0 -------------
The desk officer at the Plaza Athénée was a woman, an older member of the species, and after some reservation and wish to protect the privacy of their guests, she warmed up to MacLeods cover story. "So, you are the MacLeod of MacLeod Antiques? I've heard of your collection! Didn't you sponsor the Tessa-Noel-Collection at the Parisian modern art museum?" she asked, while she studied his card.
MacLeod closed his eyes for a moment in pain. He just nodded. The thought of Tessa still hurt, even after all the time since she died. Just as Methos still mourned Alexa.
"Yes," he finally managed to say, "she would have wished her art to be displayed there, so I gave it to them."
The desk woman hesitated. "Forgive me, I was not aware that you were personally connected to the artist," she said.
"We wanted to marry," Duncan said. "But the passed away too soon."
He sighed.
"So, about Monsieur Klein..."
The woman nodded. "Yes, he is residing with us. And you are sure that he owns the piece you are looking for?"
Duncan nodded.
"So I was told," he said.
"I would like to invite him to a meeting to discuss my offer personally. I had hoped to find him here..."
The desk woman shook her head. "I am sorry but this will have to wait a few days," she said. "You see, Monsieur Klein is out of town at the moment."
MacLeod frowned.
"Out of town?" he asked. "But he is still lodged here? Isn't that unusual?"
He made a face.
"I wasn't informed that he checked out already!"
The woman shook her head. "No, he didn't check out. Monsieur Klein has booked a long-term-stay, a few month actually. He's expected back the week after the next. He would not want to change rooms, or his intérieur in the meantime, just for a few out-of-town-arrangements."
She shrugged.
"We have a lot of arrangements like this," she related. "Movie stars, musicians, the art crowd... even honey-mooners. They lodge here as much for the renommée of the address as for the service of our place. They stay with us to be seen. If Monsieur Klein was to check out just for a few days for every out-of-town meeting, we would have problems to give him the same suite afterwards, all the time, and to find guests for his rooms in-between all the time. So, he chooses this arrangement."
She smiled proudly.
"After all, he is a long-term-customer, and stays with us every other summer."
MacLeod nodded.
"Thank you, Madam, you have been very helpful," he said. "So, I just will have to wait. Could you, by any chance, tell me, when to expect him back?"
She frowned.
"The week after next week, he will be back again, I think," she said. "There is a meeting on modern architecture scheduled at this very hotel. I think he is due as one of the referents. You can be sure to meet him then."
MacLeod gave her a smile.
"Thank you very much, Madam, I am very grateful! I will do so!"
"Please give Monsieur Klein my best wishes when he returns!"
He gave her a courteous bow and a kiss to her hand.
"Good bye!"
And with that he left the bemused woman and went to find Methos.
He found the other Immortal waiting for him just around the corner of the Hotel, and looking on his watch. "Hi!" he said, by way of greeting, "did you find anything?"
Methos nodded.
"Are you up to an early lunch?" he asked. "Because we have an appointment."
And he took off to a nearby Café.
Duncan followed him with an inquiring look.
"A lunch appointmet? With whom?" he asked.
"Carol. One of the chamber maids," the older immortal explained. "She is a short-term-employee and don't feels against bettering up her income by relating a few information too us about hotel guests; after all I told her it was just so we would know more about Klein and could judge how to approach him best to talk him into parting with that piece of art for your collection."
Duncan frowned. This was all going a bit far. After all, he did not really know if Klein really owned the piece of art in question or had even ever heard of it. Anyway, it was too late to back out now, anyway.
"And you are sure she will come?" he asked as he followed hi lover to a booth that was outside the direct line of sight of the Hotel. Methos grinned.
"Of course she will!" he said. "After all, there's free dinner and another forty for her stay in Paris!"
Duncan frowned.
"Forty Euros?" he inquired, outraged.
"Fifty, actually," Methos said. "The first ten I gave her up front." He shrugged. "Don't make a face, MacLeod! Do you want that information or not? And for her, it is a lot of money!"
Duncan growled.
"And for me it isn't?" he inquired. But he gave up his grumbling when he saw the girl approach and – after a short, hesitant look around the Café – heading straight to their booth.
He stood up, and greeted her with all his charm.
"Enchanté, Mademoiselle. Duncan MacLeod, at your service!" he introduced himself."And I believe you have already met Adam Pierson?"
She smiled at him, and Methos, then sat down.
Carol turned out to be a nice girl, and, after she lost her first reservations, very talkative. She was an English student taking a semester in Paris and worked at the Hotel and other places like that in her free time to finance her stay. The offered fifty Euros were a welcome betterment of her income.
"Of course I have met Mr. Klein," he said. "He is a nice guy, and very generous. It is just... he's weird."
"How do you mean, weird?" MacLeod asked.
"Well..." she said, taking a sip of her coffee, "He's never there by day, you know. He just turns up at night. But he does not seem to sleep here by day, either."
She shrugged and took a byte of her Sandwich.
"We cleanse his rooms at the usual hors, in the late morning, when most of the guests are out in town. Only I have never seen him leaving. He must use the underground garage, or something. And he never comes down to eat in the restaurant, either. He always orders room service. But only at nights. Other guests use to sleep then, but he has visitors and sometimes whole parties. And most of his visitors are men."
She took another byte of her Sandwich. Methos cocked his head. MacLeod gave her an inquiring look. She bushed.
"You mean, he's gay?" Methos asked.
Her blush deepened.
"You didn't know? He's one for the boys, definitely. But the guys he's taking... much older, the lot of tem. And some are outright scary!"
Methos frowned.
"Scary? How?" he asked.
She looked a bit uncomfortable.
"Well, especially one of them," she said. "A blonde guy. Tall, and reserved, and he has all this graceful movements, like a predator. Cultivated voice. But he has this forbidding aura, as if , if you get to close, he'll rip your throat out! And he has this weird eyes – piercing and alight, and they seem to follow you around. He sees everything! It is as if he could stare right into your head." She shuddered. "And he never makes a noise. One time he came up after me and I only noticed it when I nearly bumped into him. Scary! I do not like him, really!"
She took another, determined turn at her sandwich and finished it off with a few more bytes.
MacLeod shared a look with his lover.
Bingo!
"Do you happen to know his name?" he asked.
Carol shook her head.
"He never told it," she said. "Maybe he gave it at the desk, but I would not bet that it is his right one."
Methos gave her a friendly frown.
"Why ever not?" he asked.
She smiled at him.
"Come on!" she said. "Gay affairs? Nightly visits with your lover? With changing lovers?"
Methos shrugged.
"It's a free country," he observed. "And Klein does not seem to hide his preferences."
Duncan decided to get the conversation back on track.
"So, have you seen him recently?" he asked. "And this mystery lover of him, is he still there?"
Carol shook her head.
"No, he does not stay here. And Klein... well, I haven't seen him for a few days, actually." She frowned.
"That's the odd thing. Two weeks ago, that guy visited regularly. And Mr. Klein, he really seemed to bloom in that guys presence, as if he met the love of his life, or something. Then, a few days ago, he didn't turn up anymore. And I haven't seen Mr. Klein since, either."
She paled a bit.
"You do not think that something happened to him, do you?"
Duncans face was grim. Methos intervened quickly and chimed in, smiling:
"Happened? Oh, no! He's just gone to attend a presentation in the States. That's what your desk officer told us. Didn't you knew that?"
The chamber maid flushed.
"No. I didn't... I wasn't aware... Of course! He talked about his presentation in Chicago." She shrugged. "I just thought... it was supposed to take place next week."
"Perhaps he had some other appointments before that," Methos soothed. "I would not worry too much! After all, he didn't check out!"
Then he smiled again.
"Very well, Carol! You have been very helpful! Hank you! Here's your money!"
He handed her the note, and she let it vanish into her purse.
"Thank you," she replied. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, my lunch break is over, and I'll have to return..."
"Of course," MacLeod said, and rose. "Thank you very much, Carol, you have been very helpful indeed!"
He smiled at her and helped her into her jacket, then complimented her out. Then, he went back to the table and asked for the check.
"So, what do you think?" he asked.
"I am not sure," Methos said. "Maybe your theory of the late night snack has some foundation."
MacLeod nodded.
"Maybe we should check if Rene Klein ever arrived at his destination," he said.
He took out his cell phone. Methos raised his brows.
"You are going to call Joe about this?"
Duncan nodded.
Methos shook his head.
"MacLeod, wait! Ever heard of time difference? It's 3 a.m. over there! Just send him an Email, or an Email and an SMS to hint to the urgency of it! That way he gets it as soon as he checks his cell phone in the morning!"
MacLeod growled.
"This is urgent!" he said.
Methos nodded.
"But he will have to ask his fellow Watchers in Chicago, anyway, and he won't reach them in the middle of the night," he said. "Send him an Email! He may get back at you this very evening, and if you ask me, that is soon enough."
MacLeod sighed and obeyed.
------------------------- o ------------------------
It was nearly dark when the phone rang and shook Duncan out of his readings. He strolled over to the station, took it up and acknowledged the call. The gruff voice at the other end was very welcome.
"Joe? How it is going?"
The voice of the old Watcher sounded amused.
"Better, Mac. I'm wrapping up, here. In a few days, I'm back in town and leaving the Ice Age behind me."
Duncan winced in sympathy. "That bad?" he asked. He could hear the smile in Joe's answering voice. "Worse. You'd think she'd mellowed somewhat in all the time since her Husband died, but no such luck. Anyway, it's just a few days more to endure."
Duncan sighed.
"I'm looking forward to have you here again," he admitted. Then he swallowed dryly and asked:
"Joe, about that fellow I asked you to research, Rene Klein... did you come up with something?"
"The architect," Joe drawled. "Your guys boyfriend. Yes. But it was a blank. Rene Klein attended a money rising party here yesterday night. He really was there."
Duncan drew his brows together.
"So he's not dead, then," he concluded.
Joe chuckled.
"Definitely not. Your guy seems to be less of a murdering maniac than we thought."
"He killed someone, Joe," Duncan said sharply. "Right at my doorstep. You yourself said so."
He could hear Joe's shrugging in his voice.
"I know I did. I did not say he wasn't dangerous."
Duncan nodded. "So. Anything else?"
There was a pause. He could feel Joe hesitating.
"Weeeell," Joe finally drawled. "Are you sure that guy of yours isn't immortal?"
Duncan drew his brows together.
"Quite sure. He's not one of us. I would have felt it, and so would Adam. Why?"
There was that hesitation again. Then finally Joe answered:
"It is Klein. My people had him under observation a few times. He's suspected of being an immortal."
Duncan stared at the phone.
"What? Why?!"
"Well," Joe answered, "he's got the typical background, you know? Parents died early in an accident, no medical records, early youth records went up in flames in an unfortunate office burning. And he looks too young for his age, too. He's supposed to be in his thirties, and you could take him for seventeen. Plus there have been some suspicions that he might be identical with a few people we had sightings of in the twenties and fifties, as well as one record that was written in the last century."
Duncan nodded slowly.
"So, you have a Watcher on him?"
"That's the odd thing," Joe said. "No, we haven't. There have been a few probes into the case before, but he newer took up a fight with a known immortal, even if he was staying in the same town. There never was a fight. Never any reported Quickenings. And Klein – he's quite eccentric. Going out only at nights, never being seen before dark. Even his presentations are all set after sundown. No immortal would live like that. It draws too much attention."
Duncan stared. He did not like the picture that was forming here in the least, although he admitted to himself that he should have expected that much. But... another one? On the other hand, now, that he thought about it, why should de la Mare be the only creature of his kind hanging around in Paris? It made sense, after all.
He almost missed Joe's next sentence.
"Also he was seen visiting a concert of Claudia Jardine recently, and neither she nor Walther showed any reaction. Apparently, they simply did not feel him and did not recognize him as one of their kind."
Duncans mind reeled.
"Walther?" he said incredulously, hiding his alarm, "He's still with Claudia?"
Joe sounded amused.
"Not with her, Mac. Around. Claudia still will not allow him to protect her, and still refuses to learn how to protect herself, and he still refuses to let her go unprotected. So he protects her from afar. Every now and then, he takes out one of the immortals going after her, she confronts him about it, he promises to leave her alone and gives her a wide berth for a while... then the next headhunter comes to town and the game begins anew. It's quite a dance. So far, it worked out well for both of them, anyway."
Duncan sighed and swore quietly.
"Bastard! He swore to me to leave her alone!"
Joe suddenly sounded more earnest.
"Still, she should be grateful for her shadow. He took the heads of four would-be-challengers of her, already. And one of those almost had her, and scared her half to death, too, when he showed up. She escaped only because her challenger got distracted by Walthers presence and she ran."
Duncan sighed. "I bet she gave him hell for it, too, afterwards. Still, I can not say that I'm not grateful. I much prefer not hearing of her death."
He changed the topic.
"Thank you, Joe. You helped me a lot. When will you be back?"
"If all goes as planned, I think I'll be in Paris next week on Monday," the old watcher answered.
"Duncan nodded. "Be sure to call us and tell us the flight, so we can take you from the airport," he offered.
Joe snorted.
"So much for not pissing off Watcher Headquarters anymore," he said. "Will do! How's the old man?"
Duncan smiled.
"He's at a faculty meeting right now, and he totally hates it!" he related. "I suffered his grumbling about if for a whole week now."
Joe snorted again.
"That's Adam for you. Don't let him rant your ears off!" he advised.
Duncan laughed.
"See you, Joe. I'm glad to catch you Monday!"
Then he rang off.
He stared at the phone a few moments, fighting down his rising panic.
So, that Rene Klein was a Vampire, too. And he had visited one of Claudia concerts! When? Recently? He had forgotten to ask.
Was this a plot of de la Mare and his apparent lover to go after immortals? Did they have planned this long-handed? Did he and Klein stalk Claudia to get to him? To Methos? Was that the real reason de la Mare had been at that party and had then followed Methos through the town half the night? This could not be a mere coincidence, couldn't it?
Duncan shook his head. He definitely had been around Methos for too long. The habitual paranoia of the Old Man started to rub off on him!
After all, Claudia Jardine was famous and brilliant, and she gave a lot of concerts. And they were considered first class cultural events, too, visited by a lot of people, especially those who counted themselves to the art society. So, they might be visited by some Vampires, too, especially if said Vampires concealed themselves as artists or as architects. As this Klein guy obviously did. The whole thing might mean nothing.
But Duncan could not shake a cold feeling of dread at the thought that his friends – like Claudia, and Walther – might have gotten caught already in a larger scheme, one he himself just discovered, and might find themselves targets just because they were associated to him. And this feeling of helpless dread and suspicion was rapidly turning to anger.
He shook himself out of his brooding mood and reached for his Jacket. The Katana was tucked safely inside. In the inside pocket, he knew the list of addresses of the night bars and clubs Methos got of his student.
It was time to go hunting.
-------------------------- o --------------------------
Authors note:
So much for a shorter chapter. I think this is the longest I have written, yet. And it took me long enough. As for the places, the Plaza Athénée is a real Hotel in Paris, famous for the prominent art crowd and honey-mooners residing there. I don't know if they have the described long-stay-policy or even an underground garage, though.
A big Thank You to everyone who reviewed this. Your comments were a real drive to get over that writers block and continue writing. And as you can see... it's alive! Although a bit slow in coming (cough!).
Aislynn