P N Elrod Omnibus

by P. N. Elrod

  On the other hand, not everyone in the world is a sane, sensible, law-abiding citizen. Why should a vampire be different? I had a prime example right in front of me.

  “What about you? She do you, too?” he asked.

  “No. The lady I was with had a better sense of responsibility. What’s her name and where does she live?”

  “I don’t know where she is. That was months back. I forgot about it until the night I woke up. I guess she made me forget.”

  “She didn’t tell you what to expect, what to do?”

  “I figured it out. I remembered what she did and how she did it. It wasn’t hard. I read that book about Dracula, but it was fulla crap. I can’t turn into a bat or a wolf.”

  I snorted. “You do more than enough as it is. You’ve been abusing the privilege, taking this place over.”

  “It beats rolling drunks.”

  Thus did I get an idea of why Slaughter had been in that particular alley.

  “How else am I supposed to make money? The guys in the bread lines can work days, I can’t. I’m flat on my keister the whole time. You want I should rob a bank?”

  “You’ve got options, but stealing isn’t one of them. It annoys people.”

  “That’s what he does.” He pointed at Gordy. “Why do I have to be any different?”

  “Use your common sense. Get noticed and get dead. You think we’re the only ones watching you?” That, so far as I knew, was a lie, but maybe a little paranoia would keep this idiot in line.

  “There’s others? Like us? Where?”

  I just smiled. “They can turn up at the damnedest times—and you won’t know until it’s too late. There’s plenty who would have staked you on sight. It’s just your good luck I’m willing to give you a chance to clean up your act before they come calling.”

  “Why should they bother? Or you? I’m not hurting you. Who the hell do you think you are to march in my place and tell me how to live? You some kind of king vampire around here?”

  “Only when it comes to the dumb ones. Don’t be dumb, kid. You’ve got a lot of great years ahead so long as you wise up fast. Gordy might not mind you running this place, but you have to follow the rules and show respect just like everyone else.”

  “Huh. What can he do to me if I don’t?”

  “He just waits for the sun to come up—you work out the rest.”

  Gordy played it through with an appropriate cold-faced stare. I knew him to be a good egg when it suited, but he was also a killer. He showed that side now.

  Slaughter scowled, sullen. He only half-understood, half-believed. “So just like any other mug, I pay him and he doesn’t kill me?”

  “Unless you tell Herm to come back, that’s all there is to it.”

  “But—”

  “Taking over a club ain’t the same as stealing apples from a sidewalk cart. Every boss has his boss.”

  “Not me.”

  “Especially you. I know how you feel. You got something that puts you on top of the world, but you let yourself get noticed by that world and suddenly you’re having a bad night. You read the book. What did they do to Dracula at the end?”

  “I’m too smart for that.”

  “You think so? Gordy, what happened to the last vampire who went wrong in these parts?”

  “You don’t want him to know.”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Gordy surprised me and shook his head.

  Was he being careful about admitting to killing someone or was the memory that bad for him? Could be a bit of both.

  Slaughter couldn’t miss this exchange. “What’d you do?”

  I tried to read Gordy, but he gave nothing away. He had more experience with intimidation. Sometimes keeping shut was more frightening than being up front; this was one of those times. So be it. I turned back to Slaughter. “Use your imagination. Suffice to say it was ugly and the party involved did not survive. You sure you want to be stubborn just when things are going good for you?”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Pay your dues on this club, same as Herm. Beyond that, you live like a normal human being and keep your nose clean.”

  “How am I supposed to be normal? I’m not!”

  “If I can get away with it, so can you.”

  “Why should I?”

  “Figure it out. Your answer will tell you how long you’ll live. Lay off the hypnosis until and unless you really need it to stay alive, the headache ain’t worth the trouble. And you stop feeding from people like you’ve been doing.”

  “I gotta eat!”

  “Then go to the Stockyards.”

  “What?”

  “Plenty of cattle there, or hadn’t you figured that out yet?”

  “She didn’t.”

  “The one who made you was careless. And I will find her, don’t kid yourself.”

  “Animal blood? You nuts?”

  “They were good enough eating before your change, what’s so different now?”

  “But—”

  “Just try it. They’ve got blood to spare. You can have all you want then.”

  He clammed up, hopefully thinking it over.

  I hooked a thumb toward the door, indicating where Penny had left. “What about the twist? You exchange blood with her? With anyone else?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t believe you. Think you can live forever with just one eye?” I raised my gun again.

  “Hey! I didn’t!” He half-rose from the chair, hands out, trying to back away. “I didn’t! Swear to God!” The chair crashed over. He pressed against the wall and seemed to fade to an overall gray tone, about to fully vanish.

  I put the gun away. “All right, get off your hind legs. I had to ask.”

  He grew more solid looking, but was still shaken. “Who the hell are you?”

  “The nearest thing you’ll see to a teacher for this kind of life. Right now you need me. I’ll play square with you, that’s a promise.”

  “What do you get out of it?”

  “A quiet town to live in.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “A quiet town to live in—where you don’t have to watch your back.”

  “I do okay on my own.”

  “Yeah, that’s why I was able to put a gun in your face. Wise up, Slaughter, you’re getting a hell of a chance here. Is that your real name?”

  “It is now.”

  “All right. For now think how vulnerable you are and how much you don’t know. In the meantime, if you ever use another person for food, I’ll twist your head off. And you know I can do it.”

  * * *

  The interview wasn’t exactly satisfying to everyone, but Slaughter looked like he’d behave himself for a while. He grudgingly provided a general location for the vampire who’d used and made him. Gordy and I left the club, climbed into his armored car, and drove to his own place, the Nightcrawler Club.

  “Don’t trust that weasel,” I said. I went over things in memory, thinking up all the stuff I should have said.

  “Never,” he agreed. “I see his kind plenty. He’ll go along until he thinks he’s got my number, then watch out. I’ll have people keep tabs on him in case he gets cute.”

  “Or at least until he’s broken in on this new life he’s got. The change is a hell of a thing for anyone to handle. It still gets to me sometimes.”

  “No excuse. He’s trouble. His type don’t learn easy. Maybe never.”

  “Yeah. But I have to give him a chance. He didn’t ask to be changed. Who the hell could have done that to him?”

  “Wasn’t in my territory, but I can ask.”

  “Without mentioning vampires?”

  “If there’s a dame biting drunks on the south side maybe some cop or a doctor noticed. More than one person shows up with blood on his throat, someone will remember.”

  “Check the morgues, too. If she’s using people for food. . .it can get out of hand. Like we saw back there.”

  “That gir
l was half-dead, Fleming. If we hadn’t come in tonight he’d have finished her. You’ve given him a chance to do that to another girl.”

  “Or a chance to not to.”

  “Why risk it?”

  “I see myself in him. If things had gone different, I’d have needed someone like me to knock some sense into my skull.”

  “You’re too tough on yourself and too easy on Slaughter. You were never that dumb.”

  “I might have been if I’d lived in his shoes. What is he? Some poor schmuck who never had anything and now he’s got everything for the asking. The world’s in his hands, but he doesn’t know how heavy it is.”

  “And you did when it happened to you?”

  I shook my head. “It hit me different. I made a choice, knowing what I was in for, but I made mistakes I’m still wincing over. I want to stop Slaughter before he trips.”

  “He’s already tripped. You’re just trying to stop him from landing too hard.”

  “What do you want to do, Gordy? Go back and kill him? Just like that?”

  “I can live with it. So can a bunch of others, the people he could end up hurting.”

  I couldn’t argue with that and found it ironic that Gordy, who had participated in more cold-blooded killings than I ever wanted to know about, was playing the part of my conscience.

  * * *

  We spent the rest of the evening in Gordy’s office while he made phone calls trying to find the mystery lady. Not having a name, coupled with a second-hand description made the task fairly hopeless, but Gordy had more eyes in this town than Argus. If he hadn’t been a gang boss, he’d have made a hell of a detective.

  There were some calls even I couldn’t listen in on, though. Respecting that, I quit his office and went downstairs to the gambling room to pass the time.

  Most of his boys knew me by sight, if not always by name, and they kept their distance. I didn’t go out of my way to make friends, but would give a nod here and there just to be sociable and maybe offset whatever bad reputation I’d gotten. Parking at an empty table, I accepted a glass of water from a waitress in a short spangled skirt, and asked her to send one of the guys over.

  She read me right and picked one of Gordy’s mugs, not one of the gambling operation employees.

  “What you need?” the guy asked, standing over me, his stony face guarded. He was one of the ones who thought I was a creep, and that didn’t bother me. I prefer an honest reaction.

  “Couple of the boys went over to Herm Foster’s the other night. They here?”

  “Why do you want ’em?”

  “Gordy said to say a word.”

  “What word?”

  “You’ll have to ask Gordy. I’m just doing what I’m told, same as anyone.”

  He had to think that over, but must have worked out that I was somehow on the payroll. I wasn’t, but it didn’t hurt to give that impression. What would really bother him was the pecking order. Was I above, below, or an equal? Details like that are important. I didn’t care myself, but no need to broadcast it. Was there a pecking order to cover a neutral friend of the boss? Probably.

  He gave a grunt and, without answering my original question, left the room, taking the door to the back hall, the fastest way to Gordy’s office. If he wanted to bother his boss about me, that was his business and no skin off my nose.

  I wasn’t sure how long to wait before deciding that I’d been slighted, but a minute later two large guys came through the same door, spotted me, and strolled over. I motioned for them to sit and asked if I could buy them a drink. They were unopposed to that, and the waitress delivered a couple beers. The alcohol would make my job harder, but I judged these two would be more inclined to cooperate with a man running a tab.

  After they each washed down some city dust with a sample of brew, I let them know Gordy wanted me to hear what had happened at Herm’s club. They hesitated and went vague. They’d gone there, but beyond that all I got was head shaking, shrugs, and strange looks. They were uncomfortable, but didn’t know why.

  Where Slaughter tripped up was ordering them to obey a suggestion contrary to what was normal for them. They wanted to talk, but couldn’t remember the topic. I got through by using their inclinations—and buying five minutes worth of friendship with the beer.

  As Slaughter had done earlier, I leaned forward and focused on one at a time, turn on turn. Trying to put two under at once was risky. I didn’t make a big noticeable deal out of it, else one or the other would get wise and perhaps interrupt.

  Without them being stone cold sober it took longer and brought on the usual headache for the extended effort, but eventually my evil-eye whammy had them asleep with their eyes open. I gave myself a breather, so to speak, pinching the bridge of my nose even though that never worked. This was more of a mental throat clearing.

  I told them to relax and to trust me, and finally cracked open the barriers Slaughter had put on their memories.

  What a bright boy he was, too.

  He could have ordered them to think they’d collected the week’s take, business as usual, but had intentionally primed them to be forgetful, knowing full well that a bigger fish would show up to check on things. He’d have influenced his way to the top man easy enough. Slaughter didn’t strike me as being especially smart when it came to consequences, but his acquisitive instincts were good.

  It was his bad luck I’d come along.

  The two strong arms woke up on their own, having no memory of being questioned. I bought another round, we talked about this and that. They liked me now, my suggestion of trust still fresh in their unconscious minds. It would fade, but for the moment things were fine.

  The first man I’d talked to watched from one of the tables, letting me know he was watching.

  “I think your pal wants you,” I said to my guests.

  “That’s Strome,” one told me. “You’ve got him worried.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “He thinks you want his spot.”

  Not knowing what that was in the organization, it seemed unlikely. “Once in a blue moon Gordy tells me to do a chore, and I’m in no position to say no. That’s as far as it goes. Your pal can relax. I’ve got my own fish to fry.”

  They took that as a sign our talk was over and moved on. Not surprisingly they went to Strome’s table to finish their beers and probably pass on the newly minted rumor that Gordy had something on me. I didn’t mind if mugs here thought I was a reluctant volunteer; it was better than the truth.

  I did some thinking.

  Gordy’s men had done their jobs by the book, so to speak. They’d asked for Herm, got Slaughter instead, and he’d taken them back to the office for some hypnosis.

  Only he’d not just changed their minds about getting that week’s cut, he’d pumped them dry for information about Gordy and his operation.

  They knew plenty. If they’d spoke that freely to a DA, Gordy would be under arrest by now.

  So, was Slaughter just nosy or was he planning something? If I told Gordy about this, Slaughter wouldn’t see another sunset.

  * * *

  “Anything?” I asked, walking into the upstairs office again. I’d put some time at one of the blackjack tables. I was down two bucks, but I’d enjoyed the game. Sooner or later I’d win it back with interest, but on another night when my luck was fresher.

  Gordy lifted one large hand an inch to indicate frustration. “Bupkis. She could be in a different state by now. Or Slaughter made her up.”

  “Maybe he killed her.”

  “No reason to think that yet.”

  “No,” I said. “No reason at all.”

  I hung around until the wee hours, but nothing new came in via the ringing phone. Wishing him better luck in the coming day, I left and drove to the Stockyards.

  The Yards are dirty and when the wind direction and heat are in cahoots the stink is past imagining, but I don’t have to breathe regularly. The blood from all those doomed animals is plentiful and free for th
e taking, fresh on the hoof. I fed well, and I fed deep.

  When I straightened from my crouch over the flowing vein I’d opened in a cow’s leg, I saw Slaughter on the other side of the enclosure fence. I’d not heard him; he must have gone invisible and floated in.

  He looked disgusted. “How can you do that?”

  “Because it tastes good.” I wiped my mouth with a handkerchief.

  “There’s better stuff than that for guys like us.”

  “And we need too much of it too often. You’d kill the girl.”

  “Then take a little from a lot of girls.”

  “That’s rape.”

  He smirked. “Not if you make them want it.”

  “It’s still rape. You’re not a real man doing that.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never tried. You ever kill anyone? Don’t tell me you haven’t.”

  “I’ve never killed. . .for blood.”

  He snorted and spat into the mud. It was always muddy here.

  “Slaughter, why do you set yourself up to make people want to punch your nose into the back of your head?”

  “A fancy-pants like you wouldn’t last a minute with me.”

  He’d missed the point of the question. I’d halfway expected that. “Appearances are deceptive.”

  “Prove it.”

  Much as I wanted to turn his smug face inside out, obliging him would do neither of us any good. We were evenly matched; it could go either way, though I knew some tricks that gave me an edge. No matter who won, I’d lose any chance to straighten him out.

  “We’re not enemies, Slaughter.”

  “I think we are. . .because of what we are.”