by Gabriel Maff
THE BOSTON VAMPIRE
GABRIEL MAFF
2021
Table of Contents
Chapter 1. The murder on Acorn Street
Chapter 2. The investigation begins
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Chapter 1
The murder on Acorn Street
A corn Street belongs to Bacon Hill, an old neighbourhood in Boston, Massachusetts. Metal tablets at the ends of the streets notice that the streets were once inhabited by craftsmen of the XIXth century. After the cobblestone has been set in 1984 and the old lanterns had been replaced with something similar that imitated perfectly those of the Middle-Ages, the number of the visitors increased abruptly. Groups of tourists in search of history could be seen until late in the evening on the small street. Acorn Street offers visitors a reminiscent walk back to colonial Boston. Around midnight, the street remained desert until close to morning, when the first pedestrians would step on the stone pavers in a hurry.
On the morning of Friday, the 24th of October 2002, two little girls and a boy were hurrying to reach the little street, at the willow St. end. It was a few minutes to 7 o’clock in the morning and they were supposed to be there at 7 sharp because their teacher had organized, as she has been every year, a surprise trip and the school bus was waiting for them. They were having a warm discussion about the possible destination of that year because, as much as they had insisted, the schoolmistress had kept a mysterious silence on the topic. “The bread factory” suggested some of the pupils, but they were immediately reduced to silence by those who remembered that they had visited the bread factory last year and “Our schoolmistress doesn’t have the habit of repeating herself!” they argued. One of the pupils said he had heard the schoolmistress telling to their maths teacher that she knew the clerk of works who was rebuilding the zoo so they all agreed that, withought any doubt, the zoo would be their detination for that year even if it wasn’t open to visitors yet. While vividly debating the subject they reached the end of the street, when the shortest of the girls took the arm of her neighbour:
“Emily, stop! There’s a dog! She then pointed with a trembling finger to an indistinct form that was obstructing their way close to the middle of the street.”
They held hands and got closer, while the boy stayed cautious, a few stept behind.
“Alice, I don’t think it’s a dog, answered Emily. It’s a girl lying on the pavement. “
They stopped for a few seconds then, the one called Emily went on:
“Let’s get closer, maybe she is sick.”
“We should just pass by said Alice fearfully. Not only that she seemed the frailest of all, but she was certainly the most fearful. She hadn’t been to excited about walking to school through the darkness full of half-shadows of the streets from the beginning. “
“Don’t go, suggested Logan who was the smallest of all, but the girls didn’t listen as he was known as the chicken of their class who was afraid of spiders. “
They got a little closer and saw that in front of them, blocking theis passage, laid a blond girl, wearing only a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a pretty thin jacket for that cold October morning, her back facing them.
“Let’s help her! Said Emily, the taller girl who seemed more willingl to act. She took a few more steps further until she was above the fallen girl and then she started to scream sending in the cold bounded by the medieval walls air a long reverberation. “
She wasn’t that frightened by the blood flock that surrounded the girl’s head as she was by the unmistakable sign that she had seen in numerous horror movies on her white neck.
“A vampire! Cried Alice while she got closer and then she started to scream as well while Logan, even if he hadn’t seen anything, turned back and didn’t stop running until he reached home, as he lived no further than at a 200 meters distance. “
How long can you scream for, when nothing happenes around you? It took two, maybe three minutes to the girls to stop screaming. Then, as everything was still around them and the street, narrow as it was, stayed desert, they stopped screaming. They looked at each other briefly and ran off to Willow Street where they stopped. As every girl in their group that has self respect, they had their cellphoneso one of them called 911. The operator, a grumpy woman who had only a few minutes left of her night shift warned the girl not to make bad jokes as her parent would get a fine for that so little Alice looked again the lying body that blocked the street and confirmed it was no bad joke and that a dead girl, bitten by a vampire, was blockind the passage. The operator tried to remember if there wasn’t any filming going on in the city to avoid going through the same situation as one of her colleagues, who had sent, a year ago, two police crews to the public garden in Boston where “some guys were fighting with big swords”. The policemen reached the set at the end of the filming and all they could do was to ask for autographs from the young damsel who had been rescued from a ruthless fate by the knights in silver armours. After that, she consulted her colleague who had come to take over the shift and alerted everyone, following the protocol.
Since there are no more than 400 meters between between the public garden in Boston and the Acorn Street, the first ones to get there were the local policemen who were in their nightwach and were also waiting the nightshift in order to be able to go home. Convinced that they were dealing with nothing but a bad joke, they headed to Acorn Street and got there in less than five minutes. Coming from W Cedar Street, they went on the lane and, after a few more steps, they saw the little girls at the other end of the street.
“Come here! Shouted one of them. Iti is you who made the call?” He went on, while trying to move forward one next to the other, scratching the walls.
“No”, said one of the girls in a thn voice and then one of the policemen grabbed the other one’s elbow, making him to stop walking.
It was already daylight and, even though the sunlight didn’t come in directly on the narrow street, they could see the fallen body in all clarity. They took a few more steps, then they stopped.
“Let’s wait here, not to erase traces,” said one of them who had probably seen more crime movies.
“Let’s wait, if you say so”, said the other one with a trembling voice, especially because, from where they were, they could clearly see that, besides the two small bites, the girl’s neck was savagely torn on its groung side and the blood that had flown on the pavement had formed a thick coloured flock.
The oldest of the policemen torn his back on the body and pucked next to the wall the cheese donut he had eaten only ten minutes before while his partner, white as a ghost, kept repeating that they shouldn’t contaminate the crime scene. They finally managed to announce the murder to the dispatcher.
The forsenic doctor and the chief commissioner William Allen reached Acom St. almost at the same time even if from opposite directions of the Willow St. They had known each other for a long time and greeted each other briefly, then they walked together into the street. But, both being professionals, they organized themselves quicky and let the photographer go first, and when the former had finished his job, they headed for the place where the corpse was lying.
While the forsenic doctor was leaning over the corpse, the Chief Commissioner was calling the dispatch:
“The forensics team should come along Acorn St., at the entrance from Willow St. discretely without horn sound. And I also need some agents in uniforms to keep the onlookers away.”
Some people, curious as usual, were pushing their way to the two entrances of the street, and the two local policemen proved unable to keep them at a convenient distance. Anyway, t
he worst had already been made, since both the girls and the two policemen were telling to anyone who wanted or not to listen that a vampire had bitten a girl’s throat and killed her. His experience made him suppose that it was just a matter o minutes before all televisions and journalists rushed over.
Allowing the doctor to examine the murdered girl’s body, he turned to Willow St. where the two little shivering girls were waiting.
The commissioner gave them a fatherly smile.
“It’s you who have discovered…” he wanted to say the corpse, but he hesitated and, instead, he said … “the girl’s body”.
“Yes, said one of them. We have found it.”
She coughed to clear her voice and, looking frighteningly at the place where the doctor had leant over the corpse, she asked in a trembling voice:
“Is she dead?”
The commissioner looked at them helplessly: it was one of the moments he would gladly miss and that he didn’t quite know how to handle. Should he tell them that no, the girl on the street wasn’t dead and that she would recover shortly? She was likely to have seen enough films to ralize that what the doctor was doing to the girl definitely wasn’t a resuscitation procedure, but a corpse examination.
“She’s dead”, he admitted departedly and his soul filled with sorrow seeing the two frightened girls holding in each other’s arms.
“But I give you my word”, he warmly smiled at them, “that in less than three days at the latest, we will catch… the one who did it. He won’ get away with it, believe me!”
The commissioner was glad that none of his men was around to hear him so awkwardly trying to encourage the two girls. Anyway, they were not going to easily forget what they had seen.
He wanted to add something but just then the second team car pulled over and, after everybody got out of it, he made a sign to Sub-Inspector Victoria Taylor, a blonde girl aged only 24, to approach him.
He put his arm around the two girls’ shoulders and slightly pushed them towards Victoria:
“Miss Sub-Inspector, the two little girls were very brave. Please, take care of them, as of two friends. Take over of them, please, and take them to the guest lounge for children and give them whatever they desire. Then prevent their parents to come and take them home… and on the way, start the siren for everybody to know how important they are.”
The girls lightened up and quickly got into the police car. The commissioner withheld the girl in uniform for some moments and whispered hastily:
“I know it’s difficult but take advantage of your charm and spell them as you know and make them forget or at least talk as little as possible about the bite at the girl’s throat.”
“I’ll do as you say, the office for foundlings isn’t ready yet.”
For months, they had been striving to set up at the local police station a room where, among toys or watching cartoons, stranded children could wait until their parents reclaimed them.
The commissioner searched for his office keys in his pocket and took them out.
“Then go to my office and have them watch cartoons or whatever films those of their age might be watching. And take care of them! If they need psychological counseling or anyting else, work it out, please. And then report.”
Sub-Inspector Victoria Taylor was only 24 years old, she was blonde, pretty and she looked as if she had had her coming of age the day before. But she had a warm smile, her uniform suited her wonderfully and, above all, she knew how to handle children, so she nodded and got into the car next to the girls.
“Full speed ahead! Please!” She ordered the inspector at the steering wheel and added:
“And start the siren because we are driving some important people”, she added, causing pale smiles to appear on the frightened girls’ faces.
The commissioner, reassured once the girls were gone, turned toward the other memebers of the team:
“Now let’s get down to some organization!”
He looked at the two members of the team, as if wondering how to share responsabilities.
“You”, he pointed at Inspector Wyatt Miller – a tall boy in his late-20s – “focuss, please, on the video cameras in the area. Check the shops around. “You”, he poited to another Inspedctor dressed in civilian clothes, “walk among the onlookers and try to find some one who might have passed along the street. Very unlikely, but it’s worth a try.”
He dismissed them by a sign, adding behind them:
“And, the most important, don’t forget: not a single word to the press!”
He then turned towards inspector general Henry Baker, the only one who was still there and pointed to the body at in the middle of the lane:
“Inspector general sir, the crime scene is yours.”
The inspector general lifted the forensic kit next to him and started to walk cautiously towards the body, closely followed by the chief commissary. They reached the spor right when the coroner Roman King was standing up after examining the girl’s body.
“What can you tell me, doctor, after one first look?”
Thew have known each other for a long time so, between them, they avoided formalities.
The doctor looked with pitty at the silhouette at their feet.
“Considering the lividity I would estimate the time of death around five, maybe six hours ago… at least.”
I cannot explain how no one has seen the body all this time. But I will be able to tell more about the necropsy. The cause of death is at least unusual: she bled until she died, although I cannot figure out where all the blod from her body went. The girl has at least 110, 115 pounds and she was supposed to have had at least four liters and a half of blood, which I cannot see anywhere.
The chief commissioner pointed in silence the blood flock next to the girl’s neck.
The doctor did nothing but shrugged his soulders:
“Let’s not exaggerate! I aggree it’s a frightful view, but we don’t have here more than a few hundred mililiters, a half a liter at the most, and the pavement could by no means have absorbed three or four liters of blood.”
The inspector general Hanry Baker had carefully set his forensic kit next to the lichen covered wall that limited the street, had opened it and had put on a pair of new gloves and then, using a transparent plastic bag, bent over the girl and slowly turned her head over.
“Maybe this will get us an explanation!” said the inspector general and, getting a pinch out of his kit and a forensic bag, bended over the body for a second time and drew a middle-sized wooden funnel out from under the body, all covered in blood, and showed it to them.
“Oh my God! panted the chief commissioner. He has used to collect her blood.”
The coroner, even he had seen so much in his life, nodded in horror.
“He is a cursed wretch and I hope you’ll catch him as soon as possible.”
The chief commissioner breathed deeply a few times, trying to recover, then said:
“Remember this! Nobody knows about this funnel except the three of us and this is how I want thisng to stay. Cand you imagine the maddnes that will span into the city if the people knew a lunatic is killing girls to collect their blood using a funnel?”
“The three of us and those above us, if they have a good objective”, said the inspector general pointing a helicopter that appeared above them.
The inspector general had already hidden the bag containing the funnel in one of the drawers of his kit and said:
“I have a two meter plastic film in my kit that I can use to avoid indiscrete filming.”
“It’s perfect, then! I will send an agent to help you.”
The inspector general shook his head in disapproval.
“I prefer taking care of this alone. I don’t want anyone else corupting the crime scene.”
“Ok, then, how much time do you need?”
“At least two hours, answered the principal general, while he was skillfully spreading a plastic film over the dead girl’s body.”
&
nbsp; The others two headed to the end of the street at a slow pace. Behind them, the inspector general stardet to search the pavement around the girl with a magnifying eyeglass.
Before leaving the lane. The doctor grabbed the comissiner’s arm and stopped him:
“Who is your new guy? He seems somewhat mysterious.”
The chief commissioner looked arroud as if he was affrais someone could hear him and then turned to the coroner. HThey had known each other for many years, they had always worked well together, but had never discussen any matters except those strictly related to work.
“What can I say, doctor? He is a very good boy, dedicated to his work, who has excellent results. He was transferred from new York two months ago, but I have’t formed an opinion about him yet.”
They took a few more steps alongside each other through the end of the street, when the commissioner stopped again:
“Speaking of which, there’s one thing bothering me. If he had such good results, why was he transferred to Boston?”
“Maybe he upset someone”, suggested the doctor.
The commissioner just nodded, whithought adding a word. In the two months since they had been working together, they weren;t confrontet but with a few common car accidents and a work accident where everything was obvious but even so they had build solid cases to which neither the case prosecutor nor the judges hadn’t had any objection. But the current case wass weird enough to reveal what the newest member of his team was able to do.
At the end of the street, the two went separate ways and the doctor reminded the commissioner, on a whispered tone, avoidint to be heard by the journalists and the operators that were already covering the place:
“See you and don’t forget that I’m waiting for the girl, as soon as your man finishes examining her!”
For the last twenty years the coroner had been doing necropsies when he was asked to, but he still couldn’t get used to call thouse he was working on “dead bodies” or, simply, “bodies” and every time he tried to figure out new ways to express himself about them. The commissioner was asking himself tif this didn’t make his work any harder, but then he just shrugged his shoulders and went near the inspector general, acting as he didn’t hear the questions coming from the journalists.
