Book One, Chapters 11 to 20

The Vampire's Daughter
Book One
Chapters 11 to 20

Copyright, 2003, 2004, 2005, Reuben Gregg Brewer, all rights reserved.

0011
The photographer wasn’t smooth enough, Sabastian noticed that photos were being taken of the crowd. He didn’t do anything, however, knowing that any attempt to avoid his picture being taken would raise suspicion.

Two others in the crowd had noticed the photos, too. They were members of the Tribunal’s staff known as Enforcers. Their job was much like that of the police, only that it pertained to Tribunal matters. This was one such matter.

Sabastian knew they were in attendance, but didn’t pay much attention because they posed little threat to him. What concerned him was that he had left evidence that would lead the police to him.

"Leaving the body was bad, but what else was there?" he asked himself. "Finger prints, clothing, foot prints? I will deal with the body when they take it to the morgue. That will be easy enough. But the evidence they have collected, that will be harder to find and destroy.

"One step at a time. Get rid of the body and then worry about the other things," he said to himself.

The Enforcers were having a similar conversation about the evidence, except they weren’t intending to wait for the body to arrive at the morgue before starting to clean up Sabastian’s mess. While Sabastian would attempt to destroy the evidence without harming anyone, the Enforcers didn’t feel any such need.


0012
Sabastian decided he would follow as the body was taken to the morgue. As he set out, he noticed that only one Enforcer remained and wondered if the other had gone to tell the Tribunal of this event. Although he was generally unconcerned about the Tribunal, it could be a nuisance if the group decided to confront him.

Following at a relatively safe distance on foot, Sabastian watched as a passenger car turned into the vehicle delivering the body, forcing it down a side street and eventually onto the sidewalk. The driver from the passenger car leapt out and shot the other drivers. He then opened the rear where the body was located, threw something inside, and disappeared down the alley. As Sabastian came closer to the scene, first one vehicle and then the other exploded.

"Well," he said out loud, "that takes care of the body." Although he was relieved that he no longer needed to worry about the body, it concerned him that it was handled so poorly. This action would surely bring more attention to the incident, not make it go away.

As Sabastian began to head home, he realized that only one Enforcer had handled this job—the other one was still at the scene when he left to follow the body. He wondered what the other Enforcer was up to. Assuming that whatever the second Enforcer was doing would be as bad, if not worse, than what the first had done, Sabastian decided he must try to find him.

If he were to truly clean up this mess, it was likely that it would require cleaning up the mess left behind by the Tribunal’s Enforcers as well.


0013
Having headed back to the alley to find the other Enforcer, Sabastian saw that the police were wrapping things up. The detective was getting into his car, and two police officers were left to clean up the crime scene. The second Enforcer, however, was nowhere to be found.

"He must be going after the detective," Sabastian thought.

He decided he would follow the detective a short distance and then warn him before the Enforcer could do anything. Although it might have been easier to simply let the man die, if the body disappeared and then the detective assigned to the case, it could further complicate matters. Besides, Sabastian did not want any more deaths on his hands.

After about three blocks, Sabastian ran ahead of the detective’s car and simply stood in its path.

"What the heck’s wrong with you?" John screamed out of the window as his car came to a screeching halt. Sabastian walked up to the car’s bumper.

"Get out of the way," he yelled, adding some graphic profanity for effect. Sabastian stood his ground.

"O.K. buddy," the detective ranted as he got out of his car. "I told you to move on, get out of the way!

"What, are you on something? I’m a cop. Move!"

"Your life is in danger," Sabastian said quietly, while looking around for the second Enforcer.

"What?"

"I said your life is in danger."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, but there are people who want you dead because of what you know."

"What the heck are you talking about?" the detective asked, again adding a string of curses that would make most men blush.

"The incident with the woman. Her body has already been destroyed. I believe you will be targeted next."

Realizing that Sabastian wasn’t going to harm him, and that he might actually know something about the case, John calmed down and asked him to explain in more detail.

"All I can tell you is that some people do not want you, or anyone, to look into the death of that woman. It is best if you leave the city for awhile and forget about what happened tonight."

"Forget that some sick nut case killed a woman and drained all of her blood? I can’t do that. And what do you mean the body has already been destroyed?"

"Call the morgue and ask if the body has arrived. You will find that it has not. Now I recommend that you leave the city without delay."

"I’m going to check this morgue thing out, you stand right there," he said as he reached into the car to grab his cell phone.

Sabastian was gone by the time he had turned around.


0014
A bit confused about the strange encounter, John contacted the morgue. He was informed that the body had not yet arrived. "How the heck did that guy know the body hadn’t arrived?" he asked himself as he headed to the stationhouse. "And where the heck did he go?" He was starting to doubt that the encounter had even happened, though he knew very well that it had.

Sabastion, meanwhile, continued to follow him at a distance. He felt that the detective would be safe once he arrived at the police station. Not even the Tribunal’s henchmen were stupid enough to attack someone in a police station. And dawn was nearing, which meant the detective would be safe at least until the next evening. Perhaps he would heed Sabastian’s warning and leave town.

On the way to the station, John passed the site of the accident, which by this time was surrounded by fire trucks and police cars.

He pulled over and got out. "What happened here?" he asked an officer.

"We’re not sure. Witnesses say that the sedan ran into the hearse and forced it into the side street. Then the guy driving the sedan got out, shot a couple of rounds into the other car, ran around back, and blew the thing up."

"What?"

"Yeah, it sounds nuts. Who the heck would blow up a car with a stiff in it? I think one of the gas tanks caught on fire after the accident. But we won’t be able to tell anything until they get the fire put out."

"Thanks," John said, a bit shaken, as he walked back to his car. He was shocked further when he saw Sabastian standing on the far side of his car.

"I told you," Sabastian said.

"How did you know?"

"I watched it happen."

"And you didn’t try to stop it?"

"I could not stop it."

"Why should I trust you? Maybe you were the one who set the thing on fire to hide the body?"

"Think what you wish. I am only here to tell you that your life is in danger."

At that point, John’s cell phone rang. "John Lewis," he answered.

"What? I just saw him, how can he be dead?"

"The photographer," Sabastian said out loud. "They went after the photographs. How could I have been so stupid?"

"Hold on, hold on," John said to the caller. "What do you mean?" he asked Sabastian.


0015
"The photographs would be more important than you," Sabastian said to John. "I can not believe I missed that. Your photographer not only had pictures of the body, which could prove what happened, but he also took pictures of the crowd."

"You saw that?"

"Yes, he was not very discreet about it. Those pictures could be damaging."

"Hold on, who are you?"

"My name is Sabastian."

"What do you have to do with all of this?"

"I am here to warn you."

"That doesn’t mean anything to me."

Sabastian did not respond.

John wasn’t sure what to do. "I’m confused. We find a dead lady in an alley that’s been sucked dry by some twisted nut case and now the body and the photos have been destroyed. Not to mention that three more people have been killed in the process. Now you show up to warn me?

“This is where you tell me what’s going on and what you have to do with all of this?"

"The woman’s body was accidentally left where it could be found. It was a mistake. Like you, these people noticed that mistake. They are attempting to protect themselves by covering it up."

"So these people you are talking about killed the woman?"

"I did not say that, I only said they were attempting to cover up the death. It exposes them."

"What do you mean it exposes them?"

Ignoring the question, Sabastian continued, "If you wish to live, I urge you to leave the city tomorrow. You will be safe during the day."

"What? I’m not leaving. I’m going to nail these guys."

"I will not protect you."

"I don’t need your protection. Tell me, what do you have to do with all of this?"

"I told you, I am simply here to warn you of the danger you are in."

"Thanks, how about helping me catch these guys?"

"I will not do that," Sabastian said as he started to move away. He was beginning to regret warning the detective. He should have let the enforcers do their job. In years past he wouldn’t have minded the killings, but things were changing. He didn’t want any more people to be hurt by his mistake, but he knew this was not over yet. Indeed, the Tribunal would likely send its enforcers to kill more people to cover this mess up and then they would turn their attention to him. Sabastian turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

Stopping, Sabastian answered, "I have accomplished what I set out to do. Leave if you wish to live." At that, he moved so quickly that it appeared to John that he had simply disappeared.


0016
Befuddled by his second exchange with Sabastian, John got back into his car and finished his phone conversation, which didn’t provide him with any information beyond the news of the photographer’s death. After hanging up, frustrated at not knowing more about what was going on around him, he took out his notebook and started to sketch Sabastian’s picture and write some descriptive notes about the stranger. He wanted his image of Sabastian to be fresh, as he obviously had something to do with the case.

By the time he had completed this task, the car fire had been extinguished. He walked over to the scene and spoke with some of the fire fighters.

"What’s it look like?" he asked one.

"Everything’s pretty badly damaged."

"Did you guys see any bodies in the fire?"

"If there were, they’re cremated. The fire was so fierce that the metal started to melt in some places. Two of our guys had to head to the hospital because of smoke inhalation."

"Do you think it was arson?"

"I don’t know, but the fire was intense. More intense than I would have expected."

John thanked the fireman and headed to the police station to find out more about the photographer. With the body destroyed, the evidence in the case was disappearing fast. He hoped that the photos were still intact, but had a bad feeling that they, too, were gone. He went directly to the Chief to ask what had happened.

"We’re not sure, but it looks like his car just blew up," the Chief told him.

"What? The car with the body in it blew up, too. Was anything left?"

"Left? They still haven’t gotten the fire out. It spread to a storefront and now half a city block is on fire. It's a mess."

"Damn! This isn’t right Chief, first the body gets incinerated in a car accident and now the photos. Someone is trying to kill this case."

"The body was lost in a car accident? That does sound a bit too coincidental."

"Yeah," John answered in utter frustration. "I’m not sure what to do. I’ve got nothing to work with but my notes and whatever the responding police officer remembers."

"Well, get out there right now and talk with him. Something isn’t right here and we don’t want him to blow up in a car, too. Tell him to be careful while you’re at it."

"Chief," he said hesitantly, "I had a strange encounter after I left the scene."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, this weirdo stopped me and told me that my life was in danger. He knew the body was gone before I did. He told me that there were people trying to cover up the woman’s death."

"Where is he, you brought him in, right?" the Police Chief asked sarcastically, knowing that the answer would be “no” by the way John had told him about the stranger.

"That’s the thing, he just disappeared. I saw him twice and both times he just vanished. Out of thin air, Chief. He just disappeared."

"That’s nuts, people don’t just disappear."

"I know. I had better get in touch with the officer that found the body."

"John, you want me to assign you somebody?"

"No, I’ll be OK."

"Just the same, you be extra careful on this one. Something’s not right here. No John Wayne, you hear me?"

John said, “Yes daddy,” as he left the Chief’s office.

John Wayne was his nickname around the station because he had a bad habit of taking things on alone. Things that most people wouldn’t even consider with half the force in tow. It had won him praise and ridicule, but most of all respect. When John Lewis came by on business, everyone knew it was serious.


0017
After leaving John to fend for himself, Sabastian sped home to deal with his young boarder. There was, however, a great deal more on his mind than just Susan.

For starters, he knew that it was only a matter of time before the Tribunal figured out that he was responsible for the body. That meant it was only a matter of time before they came looking for him. Although the Tribunal did not scare him, it was a complication that he did not need. All too often the Tribunal’s henchmen, the Enforcers, made things worse—and so far they had made a rather large mess of the present situation.

Plus, he had spoken with the detective. If one of the Enforcers had noticed this, he would be blamed for breaching a second Tribunal rule: do not let humans know we exist. While Sabastian did not explain anything about himself or the "group" of which he spoke, that would make little difference to the Tribunal.

And, of course, by warning the police officer, he dragged yet another party into the picture. He doubted that John would listen to his warning. Further, he feared that John would attempt to dig deeper into the case. That would be bad for John and Sabastian since Sabastian was really the only lead the detective had left.

All of these concerns, though, would have to wait. Right now Sabastian had to figure out what to do with Susan before the dawn. Standing over her watching her slowly inhale and exhale, he wondered if he should wake her and lock her in a room on the third floor. He thought that it might be cruel to do so, but it would be the best way to keep himself and Susan safe.

Although this option would stop her from exploring the house, it would also lock her off from the kitchen. While there wasn’t much to eat or drink in the house since Sabastian didn’t need food, there was some. At times he brought victims home before killing them—having food in the kitchen made the house look less suspicious.

No, he had to allow her the run of the house. Sabastion did not know when she had last eaten and it seemed inappropriate to lock her in a room without any sustenance. And, for some odd reason, he didn’t want to put food in the room for her because he wasn’t sure what she might like to eat. He did not dwell on these thoughts, but they bordered on maternal—something he would deny if it were ever suggested.

He decided, instead, to lock the house so she could not leave. This would allow her to eat and drink as she saw fit, but would keep her from drawing attention to him. Of course, there was the problem that she was locked inside the house with Sabastian, a fact that could lead to her untimely death if she were to wake him, but he felt that there was no other choice.

Having made that decision, he wondered if he should wake her and tell her. This was thorny for Sabastian. If he woke her up, she would likely ask questions. If he didn’t, she might panic.

In the end, he decided it was best to leave her asleep. He went to the basement, shutting the door and double checking the lock.


0018
Both Susan and the detective were active the next day. Susan, as Sabastian expected, went on a tour of the house. John, also as expected, went about trying to solve the strange murder that had fallen in his lap.

Susan’s first exploit was breakfast. She managed a glass of water and some dry cereal. Sabastian didn’t keep much in the way of perishable food in the house because it would all spoil. Dry goods such as pasta and cereals, canned and jarred items such as pasta sauce and soup, and canned and bottled liquids such as soda and wine were the main staples he had. This proved sufficient for Susan, as she wasn’t used to eating well anyway. After eating, she wondered where Sabastian was. Her first stop was a brief search of the first floor.

She went from room to room, spending a little time looking through each. The first floor was mainly a dining room, kitchen, living room, and foyer. There were assorted closets and the locked door that led to the basement, which was where Sabastian slept. She did not, however, attempt to force the basement door, which was a good thing. Since she had already been in the only room with anything of substance in it, the living room, there wasn’t anything new to find on the first floor so her quest quickly moved upstairs.

The second floor had three rooms, a bathroom, and a hall closet. Each room was full of stored items. In the first, Sabastian stored old clothing. While there were some articles from his victims, the majority of the clothes in the room were items he had worn that were no longer acceptable attire. Some of the outfits were incredibly ornate while others were very simple. Susan liked the gold silky ones the best. She, of course, did not realize that they were from the early 1800s. In this room she tried on wigs and shoes and simply had a fun time wandering and searching.

In the second room, Susan found mounds and mounds of "treasure." There were stacks of money, gold bullion, watches, and jewelry. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Although Sabastian frequently used the paper money, the rest was generally useless to him. And the paper money was of limited use as he had learned the hard way that he could only deposit so much at a time into a bank without arousing suspicion.

Susan, while understanding that money was valuable, spent most of her time trying on the jewelry. Jewelry is more fun than paper any day. There were some incredible artifacts in the piles, but the little girl went for the crowns and massive gaudy necklaces. She kept a few rings and a necklace as she moved on to the third room. There she found paperwork, lots of paper work. She didn’t stay very long in that room—after all, paper is rather boring when you have jewelry to play with.

On the third floor, the layout was the same as the second floor. The first and second rooms were completely empty while in the third there was furniture but it was all covered with sheets. She didn’t spend much time in the room because the sheets scared her.

By the time she had made a complete inventory of the house, it was early in the afternoon and she was tired and hungry. She headed back downstairs, ate more dry cereal, and took a nap on the couch.

John, meanwhile, was making far better progress with his quest.


0019
John was able to get only a couple of hours worth of fitful sleep before he couldn’t stand it anymore and decided to start in on the case. Officially it was a Jane Doe case at the moment since no one knew the dead woman’s name.

While getting washed and dressed, John went over the case in his mind. There wasn’t much to review, however, because the body and the crime photos were destroyed. Aside from his notes, there was nothing at all to go on. There was, of course, the odd encounter with the guy who called himself Sabastian. He seemed to know a lot about what was going on, but John still wasn’t sure this Sabastian even existed. For better or worse, John was the sole repository of information aside from the first officer on the scene.

John couldn’t find him last night and didn’t want to bother him at home so he waited until today to catch up and compare notes. So, after a quick call to the station, John arranged to meet up with the beat cop for coffee.

"So," John asked, "tell me what happened?"

"Well," the cop started, "911 got a call from some old guy from a pay phone that there was a body in the alley. We found the body, but not the guy who called. The body, as you know, was drained of all its blood. There was nothing else.

"We talked to a bunch of people, but no one knew anything. Or at least no one claimed to know anything."

"Just another dead hooker," John said.

"That’s pretty much what it looked like. The only thing I’d say is that her arm was full of tracks. She tried to hide it with makeup, but she definitely had a habit."

John hadn’t been paying much attention to her arms when looking at the body because of the neck wound. "Is it possible that her blood was taken out from her arms? That the neck wound was just a diversion?"

"I guess, but it would have been an awful lot of work to draw the blood, cover the marks with makeup, and drop the body off in an alley."

"True, but there were no signs of a struggle. It could have been dropped."

"You’re the detective."

"Just the same, can you tell me where I might find some local heroin dealers? I’d like to talk to some of them."

The beat cop told John where to find a few of the local drug dealers and offered to go for the ride. As was his custom, John turned him down but thanked him for the offer.

"I think this case is bigger than it looks," John warned the cop. "Be extra careful for a little while."

"Right back at you John Wayne," he said with a disapproving look. Knowing John’s penchant for getting into, and out of, serious scrapes, he couldn’t resist the jab.


0020
John “interviewed” some street dealers, but didn’t get much out of them. After a quick break, he headed over to the home of one of the remaining "local drug dealers" on his short list to ask some questions. In true John Wayne fashion, he barged into the dealer’s pad with his badge in the air and his gun waving.

The dealer was apparently one of his own best customers, so all the commotion did little to phase him as he drifted through his melancholy dreams. In fact, the only thing he did was fall off of his chair—with the needle still in his arm. It would have been quite comical if it weren’t so sad.

"You’re going to be useless," John said to the dealer as he picked his head up and looked into his empty eyes. "Still, let’s get you downtown. Maybe when you come out of your little stupor you’ll be able to tell me something."

After dropping the junky off to ride out his high in jail, John headed back to the alley. There was nothing left now but some yellow police tape and a white line around where the body had been found.

While movies and television give the impression that there are lots of little alleyways in New York City, the fact is that there really aren’t that many. The murder actually took place on a small dead end in the financial district. It was only empty that night because the murder took place after all of the rich financial folks had gone back to their plush houses and beautiful wives.

Being Sunday, the area was still pretty devoid of human life.

"Some old man called 911," John repeated to himself. "I bet it was a bum, no one else would be down here at that time of night.

"Now, if I were a bum, where would I live?" he asked himself as he walked around the dead end street. Susan’s mother was killed in the middle of the dead end, and there were a series of trash bins down near the end.

As he reached the garbage bins, he said loudly, "Knock, knock. Anybody home?" The response was a rustling from a pile of boxes resting behind the trash. "Hey in there, I’m a cop and I need to talk with you. I don’t want to hurt you or take you in or anything like that. Just talk."

At that, an old woman poked her head out from the boxes. In a particularly husky voice she asked, "What do you want to talk about?"

"Did you call the police last night?"

"Maybe."

"About the body?"

"You mean the murder."

"Yes, the murder."