The Parchment (The Memory of Blood)

by Sylvie Brisset

  "You are wasting your time!" the vampire said.

  "It means that their boss is not there?" Casper asked. "I would not like to press you, but we have a mega problem outside. So it would be nice if you could cut the foreplay and help us. It is urgent!"

  "There is no rush. I have all my time," the torturer replied to the vampire.

  "Oh shut up! You are disturbing with your interruptions," Casper outraged to the attention of the torturer who could not hear him. "I lost the thread! You prevent me from thinking!"

  "Nobody is expected to do the impossible!" Delatour quipped.

  "Very funny, Dracul!"

  "You have become a philosopher, Delatour?"

  Casper, outraged, froze in front of the man in fatigues dress.

  "But he lays it on a bit thick, the idiot!"

  Delatour shrugged and grimaced in pain with this movement. "I make due with what I have. Sometimes it's hopeless."

  "I'll get you out of here! Do not worry."

  "I fear the worst," the vampire answered.

  "What, Delatour. You're not a sissy anyway!" his guard said to Delatour. "It was just an interrogation to warm up a little."

  Casper could not remain a spectator of the ordeal but did not know how to intervene. "You gotta tell me what I should do. I cannot come in your head. I'm not sure if this would not appear on their machine."

  "When will your boss come? He may be less obtuse. We will have a chat and then everyone goes home. I'm sick of always saying the same thing to underlings!"

  The guard stood up and violently punched Delatour. He then quietly resumed his place behind the computer. "I hope you understand now or you need another lesson?"

  "I got it!" Casper cried.

  "Hallelujah!" Delatour grumbled.

  "You wait for their leader. And you do not want us to intervene until the boss shows up. What should I say to Silvo?"

  Delatour said nothing and stared Casper.

  "Okay, I try to ask questions where you answer by yes or no. Uh, by blinking eyelids?"

  The vampire stared the ghost, a look of hatred in his eyes. His eyelids were swollen by beatings.

  "Agreed, agreed. Bad idea. Let me think."

  "Let us start, once again. Your name is Philippe Delatour?"

  "Yes," the vampire said with a voice so exhausted that Casper began to worry.

  The young man in the white coat gave a positive signal to the interrogator after watching the course of his statement.

  "What is it, this seismograph?" Casper asked. "A lie detector?"

  "Is it you in these photos?" He showed Delatour a copy of the museum catalog and of the German newspaper.

  "For the last time. No! You've pumped my blood, burnt me, broken my wrist, given me drugs, put fucking electrodes on my head, and so on. Call your boss. He comes with the parchment. And I tell him what he wants to know. I hope he is less obtuse than you. I will not answer any of your questions. You can kill me if you want. I cannot stand anymore. My brain is jammed with all your questions. I need to disconnect a little, to recover."

  Casper understood Delatour’s strategy. The leader of this small band was not there. As well as the original manuscript. Although many copies now existed, only the original could be tested for authenticity. The state of the vampire worried the ghost. Either he was a very good actor or he was really burnt out, and that could lead to nothing good.

  "Silvo will not be long. Hold on! I will inform him of the situation. You do not move in the meantime."

  Delatour looked up to heaven. This was his only answer.

  ***

  Casper easily crossed the jamming in the opposite direction. He surfed on the waves to join Silvo on the other side of the street. The squad had already taken position discreetly around the house. The ghost told Silvo of what he had discovered, detailing the disposition of premises and staff present.

  "No sign of Mystie. But Delatour is there. He is trying to bring the boss. If he is successful, you'd better hide out. In my opinion he should not be far away. Mystie is surely with him. With luck, she will accompany him."

  "Yes. But how long will all this take? The longer we wait, the greater the risks are. We'll try to backtrack the phone call. But if the other is connected with a phone card, he can be anywhere. Even on the move. So difficult to spot precisely."

  "I know. I'll go back to tell Dracul to hurry up. It will be better if you stay ready to intervene."

  "What are you hiding from me, Casper?"

  "Nothing. Let's say I'm worried about the consequences."

  "You think, they might go after Delatour, in a permanent way? They tortured him to what point?"

  "It's a rather muscular interrogation, nothing nasty for a vampire. I think they want to keep him alive and Delatour is playing on that. They are doing a lot of biological tests on him. Dracul cannot heal without attracting attention. That has to be a bad time, but he will recover."

  "Then why are you afraid for Delatour?"

  "Quite the opposite in fact. When Delatour will release his true nature, he’s going to do some damage. Believe me! And when he will learn that Mystie was abducted, he could become downright uncontrollable."

  "Up to which point?"

  "At the point of killing whoever is in his path. It's been hours since they beat up him and drugged to him. A tiger does not stay a kitten without the desire for revenge, blind revenge. If it has to happen, better to keep your men away until he resumes control".

  "But vampires can influence the minds of humans. Why isn’t he doing it?"

  "It was probably his plan. But the jamming may have other effects than blocking communications."

  "Can you disable it?"

  "No problem."

  But Casper did not move. Silvo always felt him in his head and wondered what the ghost had still to tell him.

  "Casper?"

  No response.

  "Casper? What is happening? Why aren’t you going to unplug the jammer?"

  "Wait! But that's what Dracul was saying!"

  "Say you what?"

  "He said he had his head in marmalade. He needed a little time off to recover. Too much! I will go back and keep you informed."

  Casper again crossed the interference, this time without hesitation, and was back in the house. Both of the men on the ground floor had left the kitchen and began storing the equipment in boxes scattered in the living room. They seemed about to leave.

  Casper crossed the floor and went into the laundry room.

  "Oh! I'll fuck up their scrambler. Get ready!" he shouted to Delatour, who seemed asleep or unconscious in his chair. Probably a trick!

  Without waiting for his reaction, Casper went up. The jammer was balanced on the frame, under the roof. Casper made it fall over and it crashed noisily on the dusty floor of the attic, projecting pieces of plastic around after two bounces.

  Casper heard someone bellowing from the laundry.

  "Portland! Up to the attic to see the jammer. Take a spare one with you. Move!"

  "Shit! Careful lads!"

  But it would take several minutes for Portland to connect another device. It was more than enough for Delatour. And then the second jammer could fall too...

  "And this time, you keep it on your lap and you do not move!"

  "It's not true! They hear me or I carry a jinx?"

  Casper flew off toward the laundry room. This time the vampire was all awake. His two guards remained frozen. The electroencephalogram was agitated in every direction until the lab assistant stopped it, removed the paper roll and destroyed the printed part in the flame of a Bunsen burner. His accomplice sat at the computer, brought up the digital representation of the EEG and, like the lab assistant, destroyed the recorded sequence.

  "Their new jammer will start working any minute now. I can destroy it also but I can’t do it discreetly."

  "You wait for my signal," Delatour said, without taking his eyes from his tormentors. "The manuscript is not here, and these men do not know where
it is. I do not want their leader to vanish. It is him who holds it."

  The man in fatigues opened the space of communication on the computer and began typing on the keyboard.

  Casper read aloud over his shoulder at the typing rate.

  "You-must-come. I-get-nowhere. He-will-only-speak-to-our-bull. Bull? No wait, he corrects. Boss. I-think-he-is-not-a-threat."

  From the attic, they heard Portland shouting.

  "That's it. The jammer is operational in two seconds!"

  Delatour took on a dejected attitude again. Casper continued to read over the shoulder of the killer.

  "You won Dracul. He answered to the boss that he is rubbish, and he arrives."

  Silvo was waiting outside, trying to curb his impatience. His men, invisible, were in position, waiting for his order to intervene. On the horizon, the sky grew pale, heralding the dawn. He preferred an assault at daylight. The kidnappers would have more difficulties hiding if they tried to escape. The interference had fallen for only a few minutes, but it was the proof that Casper had succeeded in his mission. He granted Delatour an hour at most. Then he would give the assault and make those who were in the house talk. Whether Delatour liked it or not.

  He needed him to find Mystie. Between a parchment that would resurface sooner or later and Mystie’s life, Silvo had no hesitation.

  Parts of the puzzle did not add up. The pieces appeared to be part of the same model but they did not fit together. Delatour was abducted at ten in the morning. Why kidnap Mystie at three pm? They had wasted time to organize this convoy of cars, waiting for her to be alone, which implied that they have followed them since they left the laboratory shortly after noon.

  They had had no time to suffer from a lack of cooperation from Delatour. Even if this guy would make a gargoyle lost patience!

  It was still in his thoughts, when with a pat on his shoulder, his team leader drew his attention to the street. A car approached at low speed. The car passed the house without slowing down and continued its journey at the same speed.

  Silvo released the breath he had held without realizing it. False alarm. He watched the sidelights of the vehicle, which disappeared in a turn.

  He changed his position with difficulty. He began to ache. He was getting too old to be on the spot. His walk in the basement of Paris was already too much.

  New pat of his team chief. The car came back, still at low speed, almost silent. It parked, ready to leave, in front of the villa. A tall man in dark suit got out. He was wearing night vision goggles, which obscured most of his face.

  "He has thermal detectors," the team leader growled.

  "It means we are spotted?" Silvo asked in a whisper, although certain of the answer.

  "At such distance, he can only see us, I'm afraid. Our men have long been in position. He cannot detect their trail. But for us..."

  "Do not move. But warn the copter to chase after him if he tries to leave."

  "Can't with the jamming. Our communications are down."

  "Shit!"

  "As you say it!"

  The driver turned his head slowly, obviously scrutinizing the area.

  "What is he going to do? If I were him I would get out. He must have suspected that we are not alone, and that he is within shooting range."

  "Let's hope he will be too confident. One thing is certain, he takes his time."

  "I have him in my sights."

  "If he tries to leave, fire at his tires. For now we wait. He has not done anything reprehensible yet. When he has entered the house, it will be another matter."

  Silvo saw a smile on the face of the driver. He even waved his hand to them. Then he walked quietly towards the house, pushed open the gate and went up the front steps without looking back. A minute later, he disappeared inside.

  "And now?" the team leader asked.

  "We wait."

  ***

  Casper heard the door slam and rushed onto the ground floor. He hoped to see Mystie, but only found a big guy with very clear blue eyes, around fifty with graying hair, wearing a three piece suit. The man took off a helmet that he handed to one of his subordinates, who stood a little stiffly in the lobby to greet him. He said a few words in English in a voice dry and rough. Immediately, the other rushed to finish storing the equipment, which was still lying on the floor.

  The chief took the road to the laundry room, preceded by Casper. As he entered, his two employees stood up, and adopted a tense position.

  "Judge Kopf," the lab assistant said with a note of respect.

  The judge drew a chair to sit down in, slowly withdrew his gloves and motioned his men to move away from the prisoner. In a very calm voice, he commanded the attention of the lab assistant.

  "Men are surrounding the house. We must proceed with the evacuation plan."

  The lab assistant made a frightened grimace and rushed to the floor. The man in fatigues dress did not move and stood by the judge. He wore a pout of contempt seeing the panicked reaction of the young man who had already disappeared on the staircase.

  "Well. We meet at last. I did not see you like that. Photos and videos do not do you justice. What about telling me your story, while we prepare the suitcases."

  "I already said everything to your men."

  "But I'm sure you will see no inconvenience in starting over. I did some research on you."

  "Should I feel flattered?" Delatour quipped.

  "Are you in these photos?" And he pointed to the magazine of the museum and the newspaper article.

  "For the last time. No!"

  "It is true that, if they saw you now, even your ancestors would not recognize you," Casper confirmed.

  "For whom do you work?"

  "What stupid questions! Looks like a bad whodunit," Casper added.

  "I am a researcher. I work for a laboratory. It is written in the article." He nodded his chin toward the documents held by Kopf.

  "By the way, why don't we speak about finder or discoverer? You've made discoveries, haven't you?" Casper asked.

  "And I was asked to participate in an operation to catch art traffickers," Delatour said, ignoring the phantom’s remark.

  "Why you, if you are only a researcher?"

  "When I was younger, I was member of the armed special forces. I was asked to play this role. I was assured it would be without risk. I had to be permanently protected."

  "Why did you accept"?

  "They promised me funds in return for my researches."

  "Not stupid, your story!" Casper approved.

  "You take me for a fool? Why would they take a researcher for an undercover mission?"

  "He got it right! Why you Dracul?" Casper asked.

  "According to my employers, the fact that I conduct medical research would bring credibility to the scenario. But I begin to wonder which side they are on."

  "Me, for what I say..." Casper answered, sulking.

  "Who are your employers?"

  "The French government. The Territory Defense."

  "You claim that these documents are forgeries? But we evaluated them. The parchment is authentic. Your name is clearly mentioned."

  "Do I really have to teach you what can be made with high-tech nowadays? Do you know how many Philippe Delatours live or have lived in France? Besides, who would believe such bullshit?"

  Kopf clenched his teeth.

  "Well said!" Casper exclaimed.

  "These documents were in the U.S. You really want me to believe that the French would have raised such a story to catch foreign traffickers?"

  "France cooperates with the United States. It seems that you are untouchable in your country. But not here. We had to stir your curiosity."

  "It's worked. You have my full attention. And I do not believe a word of your story. How is it that all the checkups we did say that you are normal?"

  "Because I'm normal, moron!"

  The answer made Delatour earned a master stroke of the hatchet man, which sent his head tossed back. The vampire came
back slowly in position and stared at his tormentor, after wiping his bloody lips with a lick.

  "You see, it’s upsetting all the time when you treat others a moron," Casper said.

  "Why have you spoken about vampires?" Kopf asked.

  "It was an idea of the moron, who is my contact for this mission. A young man parachuted from God knows where, and who knows nothing about operations. His code name is Casper. That says a lot. Just good to expect others to do the job and criticize! Nothing in the head. If you believe in such bullshit, then you are as stupid as him!"

  So saying, he fixed Casper, who stuck out his tongue.

  Delatour’s last speech earned him another blow.

  "Show me the parchment and I will prove to you I am telling the truth."

  "All in good time. How do you explain that you have no past? No archive mentions you in universities or in the graduates."

  "Do not worry," Casper sympathized. "I did not graduate either. Just because you have a bachelor flat instead of bachelor's degree doesn’t mean that you are not intelligent."

  "I have all the required qualifications. My past has simply been erased when I was in Special Forces."

  "You show-off!" Casper replied, grinning.

  "How do you explain that your electroencephalogram when we abducted you had nothing normal, and as if by chance, when we activated the jammer, it became customary?"

  "I'm for nothing, if you have second-hand equipment."

  "I do not believe you. This story hides something important. And you're the key. Perhaps you have been a guinea pig for the army. I'm sure you have biological or technological peculiarities implanted in your body. I do not have equipment here to check it but it will come. What exactly is your research?"

  "Uh, Dracul?" Casper asked after a time of thought. "I wondered. When you said that your contact named Casper was waiting for others to do the job, you wanted me to intervene? Should I destroy the jammer? You're not clear, dude!"

  "Stem cells. To help those who become slow in thinking. We try to make them react. But I'm sure you well know."

  Not knowing what to do, Casper slipped in Kopf’s head. Delatour, surprised, watched him. This ghost was really an asshole! Why didn't he disconnect the jammer, now that the leader was there? He would have to take care of the men physically, whereas it would have been simpler to handle them psychologically.