The Gendarmes returned from their hunt for the bullet. Both gagged at the gruesome sight.
Inspector Gerard flipped his notebook shut and knelt down beside Ellise Moreau’s body to get a closer look at the strange puncture wounds on her neck. He frowned with curiosity at the two bloody wounds and dark smudges surrounding them. The chair! He noticed the overturned chair at her side and could see blood congealing around the outer edges of the seat eliciting a grunt of curiosity.
“Take close-ups of this one’s neck and the chair.”
The photographer complied with Gerard’s orders.
Inspector Gerard turned to his two subordinates. “Fetch the dust kit and check for prints. Pay particular attention to the French doors, the table, chairs, cutlery, dining room door and the phone in the hall.”
They saluted with a curt nod to Inspector Gerard before leaving the room.
The Gendarmes returned a minute later with Doctor Colbert, a short man with slate-gray hair and beak-like nose.
Gerard smiled at his old friend who loved all this detective work, a fan of Sherlock Holmes, an obsession they shared. Due to their likeminded interests, Gerard allowed him to moonlight as Auxerre’s medical examiner.
Gerard pointed to various places for the Gendarmes to dust for prints, not that they had any chance of matching them to the miniscule amount of prints on file back at the Auxerre Prefecture. He always attacked investigations with the most scrupulous of labors, and never left a stone unturned – not that he had ever had a case like this. And so he watched his men dust everything that might have been touched by the killers, knowing full well they probably wore gloves.
Satisfied of his men’s work, he allowed Doctor Colbert to inspect the bodies.
The doctor meticulously opened a black leather bag and snapped on rubber surgical gloves. He proceeded to inspect the body of Ellise Moreau, all the while informing Inspector Gerard of anything noteworthy.
“Incredible,” he remarked. “This woman has been almost completely drained of blood, presumably from these two puncture wounds in her neck and ....” He lifted Ellise’s arm to see another pair of punctures in her wrist and continued, “.... And from her wrist as well. Remarkable! Quite remarkable.”
“How so?” Gerard asked.
“Well, Inspector, I have bled many patients in my time, to relieve fevers and such, and I can say with certainty that it is impossible to inflict these wounds without more signs of blood on the clothes, and .…” The doctor paused to lift Ellise’s body and inspect the rug underneath her for blood. “.… As you can see, there is no blood on the floor around the body.”
“The chair ... she was sitting in that chair as the blood was taken from her.” Gerard indicated the chair with a finger.
“That would be a logical assumption,” Doctor Colbert agreed, scrutinizing the blood on the chair.
The doctor noticed the blood under the table. While on his knees he looked at the underneath of the dining table to see thickly congealed blood hanging from a gash in the wood. He stood and inspected Sebastian Moreau’s body.
“This one put up a struggle ... see.” He pointed to the wound in Sebastian’s stomach. The doctor lifted the body to see a pool of congealed blood on the table, sticking to Sebastian’s purple dining jacket.
Gerard saw the wound and the slash-like hole in the table.
“Dear God ... he was skewered right through the table,” Gerard remarked with some incredulity in his tone. Nothing these days ever surprised him, until now. He thought for a moment, musing, “That took a great deal of strength.”
The doctor nodded with agreement, replacing Sebastian’s body onto the table with a gruesome squelch of thick blood, and returned to Ellise’s body. He inspected the wounds on her neck.
“Strange?” Doctor Colbert sighed. “Yes … it looks like lipstick.”
“Indeed. I had drawn the same conclusion.” Inspector Gerard blew out his cheeks. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s pack everything up.”
One of the Gendarmes showed Inspector Gerard the useless chunk of metal that had once been a bullet.
He pocketed the mangled bullet. “That’s it for now ... help Doctor Colbert remove the bodies.”
While the six bodies were placed in the doctor’s truck, the Inspector searched the dining room with his keen sense of order. He thought of Ellise Moreau just sitting on the chair while her life’s blood was so meticulously drained from her. He scratched his head and thought about it for some time. Something nagged at him. Something in the dining room was not right.
He examined the room, now devoid of victims. He observed the table, and pictured in his mind’s eye, the Moreaus startled at the dining table when the intruders – and it had to be more than one – burst through the French doors. Why they slashed the painting above the fireplace was something he shoved to the back of his mind as unimportant.
Something was missing – something vital. He walked around the room and took in everything, the blood on the table, cutlery on the floor and the broken chinaware. Without warning it struck him like a bolt of lightning.
There were three places set at the table last night or early this morning. That’s it! They had a guest for dinner, but only two bodies by the table.
Gerard stepped through the shattered French doors and out into the vast garden. He bent down and noticed shoe prints mixed with bare foot prints around the opening. Obviously they gained entry here. Something caught his eye.
He saw a further set of prints made by a woman’s high-heeled shoes, perhaps fleeing the scene. He tracked the deep prints in the manicured lawn into the woods surrounding the property at the rear. There, he found a pair of high-heeled shoes in the undergrowth, and evidence of someone having been chased – broken branches and torn shreds of clothing clung to thorny branches. How exciting! The hunt was on. He felt the tingle on his skin. He had a witness. But where had she fled?
~~~~
Later that day in the white-tiled examination room, Doctor Colbert finished his examinations of the bodies laid out on cold steel slabs. He stepped over to the sink and removed bloody gloves. He used carbolic soap to wash blood from his arms.
An insane thought flashed across his inquisitive mind as fleeting as smoke on the wind. Holy Mother Mary, perhaps vampires were at large in Douvrey? That would certainly explain the loss of blood. The big question, dare he mention this to the Inspector. Who would believe it? He decided not. He valued the extra francs for moonlighting as a medical examiner.
~~~~
Inspector Gerard puffed on his pipe and sipped his coffee at a table outside the quaint café in Douvrey. He appreciated this quiet moment to think, but movement caught his eye. Jean Busson left the surgery and Doctor Colbert stepped out, seeming to falter. He ducked back in and shut the door. Most strange? Busson made a beeline for him. So much for a quiet coffee.
Busson loomed over Gerard. “What the Devil is going on, Inspector? What’s all this nonsense of vampires in Douvrey?”
Gerard sipped his coffee and heaved a weary sigh. He placed his cup on its saucer and gazed into Busson’s angry face. Just to annoy Busson, he slowly picked up his pipe and sucked it repeatedly to ignite the embers.
“That’s police business, and none of yours, Busson.”
“None of my business ... people are being slaughtered in their homes and you have the gall to sit there and do nothing about it.” Busson was red with anger. “Our taxes could be better spent.”
“Who said vampires are at large?”
“Madam Rousseau was told by Sabine, her neighbor, she was told by our postman who mentioned it to Doctor Colbert while he fixed my hand. The doctor confirmed the rumor to be true.”
Gerard looked at the surgery. “Oh he did, did he?”
Busson pointed an angry finger. “Our doctor isn’t one for spreading rumors, Gerard ... he’s the most level-headed man I know ... so can you confirm this story or not?”
Inspector Gerard puffed on his pipe and laughed out loud.
“You are such a tease, Busson. Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”
Gerard had already come to the conclusion – as he always had on these occasions, that a lunatic, or lunatics, from the asylum had perpetrated the atrocity. It would give him an excuse to annoy Doctor Henri Vernier with his questions. He finished his coffee, puffed on his pipe, left a small tip and walked across the square to his car. Busson stood stewing in his own juices.
Chapter 26
THE INSPECTOR DROVE the short distance to the Douvrey Institute with eager anticipation at the thought of riling Doctor Henri Vernier. He did not like the doctor after their big fight over the Dupont case. After all, it wasn’t the fault of the police if some fruitcake had escaped from the asylum and bloody well confessed to a double murder, and then had the sheer audacity to blow his brains out in the name of Napoleon Bonaparte. Indeed, it wasn’t his fault, but the fault of the good doctor for not taking better precautions at his nuthouse. And in any case, the madman had confessed, and that was bloody that. Guilty! Case closed!
Gerard pulled up in front of the institute and stepped out of the Citroen. He puffed on his pipe one more time before tapping out its contents on the back of his shoe. And as he had always done, he dropped his pipe into his coat pocket. He was a creature of habit and proud of it. He walked up to the massive oak doors and hammered the large brass knocker.
He waited what seemed an interminably long time before the door opened revealing Nurse Marteau in white hospital clothes.
She frowned with a miserable glare. “What can I do for you, Inspector?” she asked with obvious revulsion.
“And a good day to you too, Nurse Marteau,” Gerard replied with a courteous smile, belying his utter glee at her discomfort at seeing him. “I have urgent business with Doctor Vernier ... if you would be so kind as to fetch him? It is of some importance that I speak to him right away.”
“I will see if he is free, but he is a very busy man you know.” With that, Nurse Marteau left the Inspector on the front steps, slamming the door in his face before he could enter.
Inspector Gerard chuckled at the nurse’s displeasure. He certainly had a way with women he thought with an amused smile. Good looks and charm wins them over every time. He sniggered, noticing several patients doddering around the gardens with nurses and orderlies hovering around them. He cleared his throat and looked serious, shaking his head with dismay and whistling a little melody while he waited for Vernier.
Doctor Vernier opened the door wearing his white hospital gown over his day clothes. He looked most put out.
“What is it now, Inspector? Have you come to execute another innocent man?” Doctor Vernier glared at Inspector Gerard in an obvious state of impatience.
“Certainly not, Doctor Vernier.” Gerard cleared his throat before getting to the heart of the matter. “I am here to ask if a woman has been brought here under unusual circumstances … perhaps in a frightened state, and possibly missing her shoes.”
Gerard scrutinized the doctor’s face for telltale signs. You know something, don’t you, Vernier? Yes, Gerard recognized the look on Vernier’s face – he was thinking about this woman. Vernier averted his eyes for a second, and in that brief moment Gerard had no doubt at all the doctor was treating the vital witness. Perhaps the good doctor had his reasons? Perhaps she needed treatment of the mental kind before being questioned? No doubt the poor woman would be in a terrible state of shock.
“Nothing of that sort has happened, I assure you,” Vernier said, clearing his throat.
Gerard smirked and said, “I am only trying to get to the truth, Doctor Vernier … which I am sure you would too, under the circumstances?” He waited for the response. Come on out with it man, I don’t have all day, he mused.
“The truth ... and what truth might that be?”
“I am looking for those responsible for the murders of Sebastian and Ellise Moreau, and their servants.”
Gerard was duly satisfied at the look of shock on Henri’s face. The doctor looked visibly shaken. He gripped the edge of the open door to steady himself.
Inspector Gerard thought he might collapse and reached out to steady the doctor.
Henri waved Gerard’s hand away, asking in a shaky voice, “Dear God … when did this happen?”
“Late last night ... or possibly early this morning ... it is hard to tell, as the bodies were discovered cold.” Gerard now felt a twinge of guilt at the pleasure he took in upsetting the doctor. “If you do not have a woman of that description here ....” There’s that look again. “.... I would like your confirmation that all your patients are accounted for.”
“Damn it to bloody hell, Inspector, why is it you come knocking on my door whenever a crime is committed?” Vernier was about to leave, and turned away.
But Gerard said something that caused him to stop dead in his tracks. “The reason is this, Doctor Vernier … the victims were almost completely drained of blood from punctures to their necks and wrists. Surely you can understand the nature of those I seek. They must be ... insane ... do you not agree?”
The Inspector saw the look of horror on Henri’s face, but no hint of recognition as to the motives he described. No hint as to a patient capable of such vile deeds.
“Well, Inspector, I can assure you all my patients are where they should be. I’ll stake my reputation on that.” Henri’s hands shook so badly he put them behind his back.
Inspector Gerard nodded his head with gratification. “Very well, Doctor Vernier, I will take you at your word.” He removed his pipe and a pouch of tobacco from his coat pocket. He casually stuffed his pipe then lit it with a match, sucking heavily to ignite the tightly packed material.
“A good day to you,” the Inspector said, tossing the match onto the gravel driveway and walked to his car. You don’t fool me for a second, Vernier. I will get what I want. I always do.
Chapter 27
STRONG SUNLIGHT FILTERED through the blanketed window of the tiny room at the institute. Delicate Rose tossed and turned in the throes of her never-ending memory dreams, mumbling the word Eternal while twisting her bed sheets around her sweat-soaked body. She trembled as Eternal took control.
Eternal smiled down at William Wallace partaking of her fine essence, just enough to make him so fierce a warrior his enemies would be vanquished. The English were slaughtered in the thousands, forcing embarrassment to spread like the plague all the way to the crown upon which sat the hideously cruel Edward I, known by the Scots as Edward Longshanks.
As William’s addiction worsened, he had to resort to painting his face to function in the daylight, but Eternal could see the writing on the wall and fled with her true love before William’s final moments arrived. Eternal hated to see her subjects perish. She escaped to England ruled by that sadistic monster now named The Hammer of the Scots. She discovered too late the king required her blood to replenish his vitality.
Eternal and her true love ran through dark woods, screaming in terror from his pack of howling wolfhounds and a grotesque black horse with glowing red eyes. Upon the horse sat the evil Count in the guise of Edward I, his armor stained with blood. He leered down at her with demonic eyes and long fangs dripping blood. The wolfhounds circled them. There was no escape from The Count. Her true love attacked but was impaled on a pike.
Eternal cried out in her disturbed sleep. She screamed as The Count snatched her up and draped her across his horse with the promise she must make him young and virile again. The black beast galloped through dark woods while lightning split the gloom with silvery streaks.
The horse changed into the car – His car, now speeding down narrow streets. Eternal was dragged by her hair, screaming and kicking and tossed into her worst nightmare, leaving her trapped within the attic room back in Paris. She backed into a corner. He approached her with his sword swishing the air and fangs gleaming.
Delicate Rose awoke from her nightmare, shimmering with fearful sweat. Her bed sheets had twisted into a tangled knot
. She pulled her knees up to her chin and rocked back and forth.
With a shaking hand she lifted the blanket covering the window only to be assaulted by the harsh rays of the sun. She swished the make-shift curtain shut as Eternal echoed within her tormented mind. I am Eternal. Who is Eternal? What am I? Where am I? These questions and more pierced her mind with red-hot needles, invading her reason with thoughts she could not understand.
Delicate Rose wiped tears from her face. She gave a forlorn cry, realizing she was indeed trapped in this tiny room. Rocking to and fro, she carelessly risked a peek from the window, but at that moment bright sunlight was released by a heavy cloud. Her arm quickly saved her eyes, forcing her to turn away from the intense searing heat. Her ill-fitting plain grey dress was drawn tightly around her thighs. She tried to pull the dress down over her knees as she wondered what would happen to her. Eternal!
“Eternal … Eternal … Eternal,” she chanted, over and over while rocking back and forth.
Eternal dared not remove the blanket. Her ancient soul yearned for the black of night. In the fetal position, she imagined a sliver of moonlight casting its ethereal glow upon her face. She reached out to the near perfect moon. Intense pain as if a door to a furnace had been opened caused her to flinch away. She wondered why she was here and what had she done to deserve this punishment, but the answers eluded her. The imaginary glow of the moon lulled Eternal into a trance-like state.
She began to chant, “Eternal … Eternal … Eternal.”
The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels Page 191
