by Elle Adams
“Maybe,” I said. “But why are they so interested in the book? Do they think there’s a connection after all?”
“Edwin isn’t ruling anything out,” she said. “He knows the two ex-hunters were acquainted with one another, but their research is still a step behind ours. He also spoke with the Reaper earlier.”
“Yes, the Reaper is back in town,” said Aunt Candace, her eyes gleaming. “What an interesting turn of events.”
I felt my face heat up as Cass made a derisive noise. “For some of us, maybe.”
“I’m not surprised,” said Aunt Adelaide. “The Reaper has nobody else to take his place, so I expected they’d return eventually.”
Then why would the Grim Reaper have left that note, except to warn me off? If so, I was pushing my luck by working with Xavier again, but even if I removed my personal feelings from the equation, he’d been present for both murders and knew as much as I did.
And if the vampires were involved, I could at least count on them fearing the Reaper.
11
Luck wasn’t with us. Xavier showed up the following day with the news that Mr Dreyer had left town in the early hours of the morning.
“I did look around his room during the night, but I had to leave when he woke up,” he explained. “I didn’t see any evidence that he knew about the book, nor how to open it. We’ll either need to ask Frederick if we can have another look around his room, or speak to Edwin about our concerns and see if we can persuade him to send someone after him.”
“Aunt Adelaide already did,” I said. “Supposedly, both Mr Blake and Mr Spencer were minimalist travellers who only brought clothes on their vampire-slaying mission.”
His brows shot up. “I didn’t find any weapons or anything either. Perhaps I can convince Frederick to let me take a look in both empty rooms.”
“Depends if he knows two of his guests were ex-vampire hunters or not.” Aunt Adelaide had implied Edwin hadn’t wanted word to spread, but it was unlikely Evangeline didn’t know by this point.
Inside the hotel, we found Frederick sitting behind the reception desk, his eyes red-rimmed with tiredness and even his lopsided grey hat dull and drooping.
“What is it this time, Reaper?” he said. “Please tell me nobody else is dead.”
“No, but I wanted to ask you about Mr Dreyer,” said Xavier. “Have the police questioned him again?”
“He’s gone,” said Frederick. “He checked out of the hotel this morning.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Xavier, with perfectly feigned surprise. “I heard he was trespassing in one of the victims’ rooms. I don’t know if you’ve heard the latest from the police—"
“There was no evidence to back up that claim besides eyewitness accounts, and the police didn’t think that enough to take him into custody,” he said. “I have other guests scheduled to stay in that room, and they’ll be arriving later today.”
“Understandable,” said Xavier. “You should know, though… word has made it to my boss that the two who died were involved in illicit activities.”
Frederick’s whole demeanour changed. “The Grim Reaper? He’s not with you, is he?”
“No, but I feel it’s best to assuage his doubts. May I have a look around the empty room?”
His shoulders slumped. “Look, this has been bad enough for business as it is, and I do not think any of my guests were involved in the two tragic deaths. If the Grim Reaper shows up on my doorstep next, the rest of the guests will flee in terror and I might as well close up the hotel for good.”
“He won’t come here,” Xavier said, his tone soothing. “But if Mr Dreyer’s behaviour was suspicious, wouldn’t it be better to clear things up now? I won’t leave a trace.”
“I suppose.” He heaved a sigh, then fetched a key from behind the counter and handed it to Xavier. “Be quick, Reaper.”
We headed upstairs, Xavier in the lead. “Mr Dreyer was staying on the first floor… same as Mr Spencer.”
“And Mr Blake was up on the third floor,” I added. “Your boss isn’t coming, is he?”
“No.” He spoke in a low voice. “I don’t like using his name to pressure others, but it sounds like Edwin is missing some crucial pieces of evidence.”
Searching Mr Dreyer’s room didn’t take long. The suite was pristine and ready for the next guests, and if the relic collector had taken anything, he’d left no traces behind. Xavier and I opened all the drawers in the room and checked under the bed, in the wardrobe, even behind the curtains. None of them held any traces of the room’s last inhabitant.
“And Mr Spencer’s room?” I said. “I know if there was anything in there, it’s more likely to have been removed, but he can’t have planned to hunt down vampires with no weapons.”
“Agreed.” He led the way down the corridor. “As far as I know, no new guests have moved into his room yet.”
Mr Spencer’s room took even less time to search. Whoever had cleaned it had been thorough in removing every sign of habitation, and if any subtle signs remained, Xavier would be more likely to see them, not me.
“Anything?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Let’s check Mr Blake’s room, then we’ll leave.”
One room to go. We climbed to the third floor to look for the room where Mr Blake had met his untimely end.
Xavier tried the door. “Locked.”
“Why not get the key for that one?”
He answered by walking at the door, as though it wasn’t there, and vanished through its wooden surface. Then the door opened from the inside and Xavier welcomed me in with a smile.
“You’re unbelievable, you are.” I didn’t move. “Also, you know I can’t tread lightly without leaving a trace like a Reaper, don’t you?”
“You won’t contaminate the crime scene.” He beckoned me into the room, and I slipped behind the door, resigned. The Reaper was a bad influence on me, that was for sure.
The window Mr Blake had fallen out of was closed now, sealed shut. I looked from the window to the door, mentally calculating the distance. Unless he’d been standing right next to the window when he’d died, the person who’d pushed him must have shoved him all the way across the room by force. A human might have subdued Mr Blake first, but I couldn’t picture an ex-vampire hunter being easy to sneak up on. Which left one option remaining.
Vampire.
The small hairs stood up on my arms. How could the police arrest a rogue vampire who nobody had seen? Except for Mr Dreyer’s midnight sighting, and it didn’t sound like anyone had taken his word for it, let alone pieced together an accurate description. No… it was Evangeline we needed to consult, assuming one of her own people wasn’t responsible.
Xavier halted in the room’s centre, turning on the spot. “The killer didn’t force the door. That much we know.”
“There aren’t any signs of a fight either.” Though given the crimson swirling patterns on the carpet, bloodstains would be easy to hide.
Xavier shook his head. “I may have to have to bring up my boss in front of Edwin next.”
Or Evangeline.
Resigned, I headed downstairs with Xavier at my side. How had the killer left no traces? For that matter, how could two vampire hunters have carried nothing that so much as hinted at their choice of profession?
Unless someone else had removed them. Someone who moved faster than a human did.
As we reached the ground floor, my foot kicked a piece of the carpet loose at the foot of the stairs. Frowning, I halted. The carpet was slightly torn up the side, on the area where Mr Spencer had fallen. And underneath the raised section—
“What are you doing?” asked Xavier.
I crouched down at the foot of the stairs where Mr Spencer’s body had lain. “Do you see that?”
Xavier crouched beside me and lifted a corner of the carpet. A red stain darkened the wall beneath it. My heart lurched. “That… I don’t think it’s paint.”
Frederick trod to
wards us. “What is it?”
“That’s where Mr Spencer fell.” I pointed. “But it’s not his blood, I don’t think.”
The hotel owner went very pale at the sight of the blood staining the wall.
“I’ll call the police,” he said, his voice tremulous. “You two… you should leave.”
We left the hotel. There wasn’t much else to do. It wasn’t until we reached the walkway to the beach that Xavier held up a thread, soaked in blood. He must have used his swift Reaper speed to yank out part of the carpet while Frederick wasn’t looking.
“Good job,” I said. “Estelle knows a spell which can track the owner of someone’s blood. Want me to give it to her?”
“Sure,” he said. “Frederick means well, but I think one of us should stick around here to make sure the police have the right impression.”
“Meaning you.” Only witches could use magic to identify someone using their blood, so I’d have to ask one of my family members. “I can’t think whose blood it might be, though. Mr Spencer didn’t have any visible injuries. As for Mr Blake, he was nowhere near the stairs when he fell out of the window.”
“It’s not a fresh stain.” He examined the thread. “But it’s not that old either, I don’t think. A week at most.”
A week. He’d know, since he spent enough time around dead bodies, so I’d have to take his word for it.
“I’ll see what Estelle says.” I gingerly took the thread from him, suppressing a shudder. “Be careful.”
“You, too.”
I hurried through the town square, careful to hide the bloody thread in my hand to avoid anyone asking awkward questions. Despite my jangling nerves, I reached the library without incident and caught up to Estelle at the front desk.
“Estelle,” I said. “You know that spell you used to check whose blood was on that coat a while ago? I need to know how to use it.”
“What?” She blinked at the sight of the blood-soaked thread of fabric. “Rory, what is that?”
“We found blood under the carpet on the stairs where Mr Spencer died,” I explained. “The police are on their way to the scene, but I wanted to see if we could figure out whose blood it is. I’m not convinced it belonged to Mr Spencer.”
Estelle took the thread from me in one hand and drew her wand with the other. “I can teach you, but it’s quite a bit beyond a beginner’s level spell.”
With her wand hand, she made a complex gesture. The thread glowed a little, and she gasped aloud.
“What is it?”
Estelle lowered a trembling hand. “The blood isn’t human blood. It belongs to a vampire.”
My mouth dropped open. “Which vampire?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “But the blood wouldn’t be glowing like that if it belonged to a human.”
My heart began to beat faster. “Did Mr Spencer or Mr Blake kill a vampire while they were staying here?”
What had they done with the body, then? And what weapons had they used? We’re missing something big here.
“I couldn’t say,” she said. “If they killed a vampire, I would have thought they’d have used a stake, which turns vampires to ash and leaves no traces behind, nor any blood.”
“Dominic didn’t turn to ash when he died,” I said, thinking of how I’d run into his body lying in the street. “Besides, we found no weapons. Even if the vampire was injured and not dead, how’d they dispose of the body without being noticed? Unless… unless the vampire survived and ran, then came back to kill them later?”
“Ask the vampires,” said Estelle. “In fact… no. Don’t ask the vampires. That’s a really bad idea.”
“If we start looking up ‘how to get rid of a vampire’s body’, the police will add us to a watchlist,” I said.
“Nah, Aunt Candace looks stuff like that up frequently and she’s never been arrested,” said Estelle. “Except for that one time, I mean.”
“She dated a vampire. Might she know?”
“Would she really have asked the guy she was dating how she’d hide his dead body?” Estelle pursed her lips. “On second thoughts, that is exactly the kind of question she’d ask. Let’s find her.”
If there was one thing you could count on, it was Aunt Candace’s ability to turn everything into a research opportunity. Estelle disposed of the bloody thread and we made our way to the classroom at the back of the ground floor which had become Aunt Candace’s second home over the last few days.
I rapped on the door. “Aunt Candace?”
“She won’t hear us if the soundproofing spell is in effect.” Estelle tapped a word in her Biblio-Witch Inventory and the door sprang open.
“What is it this time?” Aunt Candace looked up from the book. “I can’t find the password, and that’s not for lack of trying. I’ve used hundreds of languages, and that crow of yours has lost his voice.”
Jet, who sat on the table, gave a feeble croak.
“I’ll get him out of here,” I said, holding out a hand for my familiar to hop onto. “That’s not what we wanted to ask. Hypothetically, how would one go about getting rid of a vampire’s body?”
Her gaze sharpened in an instant. “Hypothetically? Well, well… it’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?”
“I haven’t killed anyone!” I said. “We think a vampire was killed at the hotel, but a body hasn’t been found. Just blood. Vampire blood.”
“At the scene where Mr Spencer died,” Estelle added. “I tested it myself and the blood didn’t belong to a human. No doubt the police will come to the same conclusion, but this whole situation has me stumped. Who did the blood belong to?”
“You’re asking me?” said Aunt Candace. “I can’t even remember the password for this blasted book.”
The book made a hissing noise. “I’m tired of listening to your whining, too.”
She ignored the book. “Perhaps it was old blood from a past murder. Or the body is buried under the floorboards.”
“I’m fairly sure Frederick would have noticed,” I said. “The hotel is right by the beach, so throwing it into the ocean would be the quickest way to get rid of a body… assuming nobody caught them at it.”
“If it didn’t wash back onto the shore again,” added Estelle. “Like that poor academy kid.”
“He wasn’t a vampire, though,” I reminded her. “He was faking. I guess the vampire the blood belonged to might have been injured and escaped, but that’s just guesswork. I mean, nobody saw them, that we know of.”
The sound of a door opening came from within the lobby.
Estelle glanced over her shoulder. “Someone’s at the front desk.”
“Close the door behind you,” said Aunt Candace. “And do tell me if you find out whose blood it is. I want to put that in my next mystery book.”
“Honestly.” I closed the door and Estelle redid the soundproofing spell. “At least she’s staying out of trouble.”
I found Xavier standing beside the front desk. “Hey, Rory.”
“Did you speak to Edwin?” I asked. “That was fast.”
“I caught him on his way to the crime scene,” he said. “Both he and Frederick insist they have no idea whose blood was on the stairs.”
I swallowed hard. “We found out the blood’s owner was a vampire, but Estelle’s spell couldn’t pin down whose it was.”
“A vampire?” His eyes widened. “One of them killed a vampire?”
“Or injured them,” said Estelle. “Perhaps Mr Spencer did, but the vampire got behind him and pushed him downstairs. Then the vampire fled the crime scene. You know how fast they move. It’s not implausible, right?”
“True, but I think I’d have noticed if he’d been fighting a vampire when he spoke to me on the phone,” I said. “And he would have been carrying a weapon if he’d expected an attack. The police didn’t find any on him, let alone in his room.”
“I prompted Edwin to take another look into their history as vampire hunters,” said Xavier. “He agrees that the e
vidence supports the fact that the two of them weren’t as retired as it appeared. Perhaps that’s what they wanted to lead the vampires to believe.”
“Except they came here with no weapons, or other vampire-hunting gear.” I glanced over my shoulder in the direction of the Reading Corner. “Do the police think they might have wanted to use the book as bait? Is that why they’re so interested in it?”
“Maybe.” Xavier’s forehead creased. “Edwin told me he’ll take into consideration that Mr Dreyer may have seen a vampire near the hotel, but since he didn’t report the incident to the police, it’s not enough to merit alerting the vampires.”
“Evangeline knows,” said Estelle. “There’s no way she doesn’t.”
“I know,” I said. “Most of the town knows about the screaming book, so it’s not exactly a low-key method of baiting the vampires without drawing anyone else’s attention. Why did Mr Spencer foist it on us to begin with if he didn’t want to make us into targets?”
“Maybe he knew he was being chased,” said Xavier. “And he gave you the book so that you’d be able to track his killer if he died.”
“He didn’t look like he expected to die when we first met.” I frowned. “He just seemed desperate to have that book off his hands. As soon as he handed it over, he scarpered. I don’t understand why he left us to take the fall. We didn’t know him.”
“No, we didn’t,” said Estelle. “What happened to the relic hunter, then?”
“He’s gone,” I said. “He left town this morning. We looked around his room, but he left no traces behind either.”
“I searched Mr Blake’s and Mr Spencer’s rooms, too,” added Xavier. “Until Rory stumbled upon the blood on the stairs, we found nothing. It seems the two vampire hunters came to town with no weapons nor any means of body disposal.”
“Nor any instructions on how to open the book,” I added.
“Did you ever find out when Mr Spencer checked it out?” asked Xavier. “Because even if he did know how to open it, it strikes me as impractical to carry a book around for months or years with no way to stop it from screaming.”
“Nope.” Estelle rubbed her forehead. “The problem is, none of us can remember who it was who loaned him the book to begin with. You know how many people we deal with on an annual basis from within the town, let alone outside it. You need a licence to get some of the more dangerous books and I assume he had one, but we still haven’t found the record.”
