A Vampire's Bohemian

by Vanessa Fewings

  Making my way toward Brooks’ office, I ran through possible excuses I would use when he asked how I’d learned of this girl’s death. I wasn’t supposed to know about it yet.

  I paused in the doorway when I saw Dr. Russell sitting in a corner chair. “May I come in?”

  Brooks narrowed his gaze. “Jansen, what the hell are you doing here?”

  “You know this place, sir. Nothing is kept secret for long,” I said, entering. “Great party last night.” I looked over at Riley. “You were missed.”

  “I was on call,” Riley said.

  “You heard about our Jane Doe then?” Brooks said, swapping a wary glance with Riley. “Our good doctor here is about to perform the postmortem.” Brooks pointed to an empty chair.

  I sat where he pointed, my eyes moving from Brooks to Riley and back again. “What do we have so far?”

  “Jansen, I don’t remember assigning you to this?” Brooks said.

  “I’d love to help in any way I can,” I offered.

  “A dog walker found the body a few hours ago in Holland Park,” Riley said. “She’s around twenty-ish. We just brought her body back. No ID. She’s never been fingerprinted.”

  For them I learned she was still a Jane Doe, yet I now knew her as Eden. I should have gotten a last name out of Orpheus. I made a mental note to do that.

  “She has that same small circle on her left inner forearm.” Riley watched me carefully as though waiting for my reaction. “The same symbol from the girl in the photo. Ingrid, how did you know from the photo it was a brand and not a tattoo?”

  I sat back. “Huh.”

  He waited for my answer.

  “Read it somewhere, maybe.”

  His intense gaze stayed on mine. “I’ve estimated her time of death at around 9:00 P.M last night.”

  “Any idea how she might have died?” I raised my hand. “I know it’s still early.”

  “Bled out via an IV,” Riley said. “From my preliminary.”

  “Someone dumped her in Holland Park after she died?” I asked.

  “Looks like it,” Riley said.

  “MIT are all over it,” Brooks said.

  “Sir, I want in on this one,” I said. “My in-tray is clear.”

  Brooks squinted my way.

  “May I see her?” I stood up.

  “Don’t get in MIT’s way,” Brooks said.

  I headed after Riley.

  “Ingrid,” Brooks called after me.

  “Sir?”

  “This Jane Doe was wearing all black. A corset, you know, the whole get up. She’s probably a prostitute.”

  I shook my head. “Sir—”

  “IV marks,” Brooks added to make his point.

  “Sir, someone bled her out.”

  “Maybe she was too high to realize?”

  I leaned on the doorjamb. “Her circled brand links her to Hauville’s case.”

  “My wife likes you Ingrid,” Brooks said. “I like you, but don’t take any liberties on this one. Understand?”

  I stared back at him with a dawning realization I was looking at me in twenty years. A senior officer with Scotland Yard, hardened and incapable of empathy. I stepped back into his office. “Sir, am I being held off this because I never caught the culprit from the Stonehenge case?”

  He shrugged. “You’re a brilliant detective. No one blames you.”

  “But that’s the reason why I’ve only been allowed to work on Hauville’s counterfeit activity?”

  “Not sure if you’ve noticed this or not, Ingrid, but Scotland Yard has a specialized department for everything.” Brooks’ sarcasm allowed him to wriggle out of that one. With a wave of his hand, I was dismissed.

  I followed Riley through the pathway of cubicles.

  We rode the lift in silence.

  The morgue was freezing, and I wondered how Riley coped with being stuck in here for any length of time. The smell of ammonia mixed with something else was nasty. No one would ever want their loved one in this awful place.

  There, on the furthermost examination table, lay a green sheet draped over the outline of a body. A sinister image I’d never gotten used to it. We neared the autopsy table and Riley nudged the lighting fixture. He eased the sheet back off her face.

  Eden looked asleep. Too pale for life and too sweet for death. Her stillness was eerie. I half expected her to open her eyes and talk to us. Eden had chosen to be a Gothica with the hope of one day being delivered into a life of eternity, yet here she lay dead. Her chance lost. I wished she’d made it to vampiredom, fulfilled her dream. I had of course considered this pathway for myself. Being sired by Jadeon. Becoming his equal. Until last night I’d questioned if this was the only way we could be together. A choice that never really went away. I would rather that then this. Death seemed so cruel when an alternative hovered within reach.

  With gloved hands, I eased back the drape from her left forearm and ran a fingertip over her circled brand. No wonder Orpheus had appeared so distraught. The reality of what I was looking at left a stale taste in my mouth.

  She was one of Orpheus’ girls. Once under his protection, she’d been murdered and her body unceremoniously dumped in a park. Despite Jadeon trying to protect me he was wrong on this one. I needed to be here.

  “I need to see more,” I said.

  Riley didn’t move.

  My gaze rose to meet his.

  “Your blood results came back,” he said.

  Oh, I’d forgotten all about those.

  Riley strolled over to the sink and slipped off his gloves. He threw them into a bin. “There were traces of alcohol and Ambien. And something else too.”

  Oh no, not this. Not now when a girl lay dead and her body was a host for evidence. There were clues we needed to gather and study without wasting any more time.

  “Let’s discuss this later?” I gestured to the drape.

  “The lab found high levels of dopamine in your blood.”

  “A mix up?”

  “If you’re doing drugs, why let me test your blood?”

  “I’ve never done drugs.”

  “Cut the bullshit. You had high levels of norepinephrine, serotonin, and dopamine in your bloodstream. Whatever you took would have had you flying.” He folded his arms. “Time to talk, Ingrid, or I’m going right back to Brooks’ office with this.”

  CHAPTER 21

  The Met’s cafeteria was nestled in the far eastern corner of Scotland Yard.

  At this early hour it was deserted, though by 7 A.M. this restaurant would be thriving. Senior officers would rub shoulders with junior ranks, staff would pick up their morning coffee, and discreet meetings would be held in private booths as personnel took short breaks from their stuffy cubicles.

  This morning however, only a few people ate breakfast in here. They were far enough away from our table not to overhear what Riley wanted to discuss, continuing on from our conversation in the morgue.

  Riley had insisted on buying breakfast and was currently at the till paying for a tray of food. He made small talk with the young, brunette cashier. Her stare followed him as he made his way back to me. The cashier was apparently enamored with him.

  Riley placed the tray laden with two plates of scrambled eggs and toast in the center of the table. He slid one of the coffees over to me, followed by one of the plates.

  “You have an admirer,” I said, hoping to break the tension from our current stand-off.

  He flashed the girl another smile. “Jane’s very sweet.”

  “Jane?” I glanced over. “She’s smitten.”

  He looked surprised. “I’m only being friendly.”

  The smell of eggs wafted and my stomach grumbled in protest. I reached for the plastic fork and scooped a portion of golden fluffiness. “You didn’t need to do this, but thank you.”

  He removed his plate and slid the tray aside. “Anything you find in a vending machine is the devil’s food.”

  “Aren’t eggs high in cholesterol?”

/>   “Eat up.”

  First Jadeon, and now Riley was feeding me. I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or flattered that people cared so much. Riley’s focus remained on me with a startling intensity and made me hate the fact he had something over me.

  “I’m here for you, Ingrid,” he said. “You know that.”

  I lathered my toast with butter. “It always amazes me how doctors can eat no matter what they see.”

  “We learn to separate.” Riley opened a sachet of sugar and poured white crystals into his coffee. “How’s your sleep?”

  “Fine.” I knew he wanted to know why I had Ambien in my bloodstream. “It was a one off,” I lied.

  “Your doctor prescribed it?”

  “I’ve been working through something.”

  “Relationship?”

  I hid my cringe. I was sharing way too much. Details that might lead to more questions.

  Dating a vampire has its challenges. The kind that could never be shared with anyone.

  “I heard about the party at the Waldorf,” he said. “From all accounts your beau’s wealthy and quite dashing.” Riley pointed with his fork. “How come we’ve never met him?”

  “Oh, no.” I waved my fork to empathize my point. “That was Orpheus.” I corrected. “Lord Velde,” I shook my head, “Jadeon wasn’t at the party.”

  “Jadeon’s your boyfriend?”

  “Yes.” And it made me feel good to say it.

  “He a Lord too?” he mocked. “This Jadeon?”

  “Um, yes.”

  Surprise flashed over his face.

  Taking a sip of coffee, my thoughts drifted to last night, skipping over my run-in with danger and fast forwarding to my night of unbridled passion with Jadeon. I wanted to turn back the clock and be in his arms.

  “Ingrid, you’re blushing.”

  “Coffee’s hot.”

  “It’s serious then? Are we talking marriage?”

  “I try to keep work and my private life separate.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s...an art dealer.”

  Well was. Now he spends all his time lording over the underworld.

  I offered a polite smile, resisting the urge to caress my brow from the tiredness hanging over me. My lack of sleep was taking a toll.

  “Your boyfriend’s super rich then?” Riley said.

  “I suppose.”

  This felt like an interrogation, and I hadn’t had this kind of invasion into my private life since the academy.

  He pushed his half eaten plate away. “You won’t be the first person to do it. Athletes use performance enhancing drugs all the time. Goodness knows the pressure on you is monumental. The cases never stop coming. But long term illicit drugs will kill you.”

  “I’ve never done drugs.”

  Riley narrowed his gaze.

  “I swear.”

  “The lab identified one of the compounds as a possible street drug. It’s potent. The molecular formula of what you took was similar to C17H21NO4.”

  “That’s impressive.”

  Riley looked intense. “A cocaine-like substance.”

  What the hell had Orpheus slipped me? Was it merely his blood? Yes, his frickin blood with all its supernatural potency must have manifested as a drug when examined under the critical eye of a scientist.

  “Ingrid?”

  “I was slipped something,” I said. “I was working undercover and...” I hated lying and sensed Riley was too smart to believe it.

  “And you failed to report it?”

  “That’s why I came to you. I knew you’d be discreet.”

  He sat back. “Start talking. The truth this time.”

  “Riley, please.”

  “Do I sound like I’m compromising? Your welfare is my concern. It’s my job to make sure you don’t end up with a toe tag.” He leaned forward. “Am I getting through?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Your elitist friends have gotten you into drugs.”

  “No.”

  “Cocaine is the drug of choice for the rich. It’s powerfully addictive.”

  I glanced around to make sure no one could overhear. Riley was turning what I’d just told him back on me.

  “I’ve never once taken cocaine,” I said firmly. “Never.”

  He reached out for my face and brushed my fringe aside. “How did you get that?”

  My hand shot to my forehead and I remembered the bruise, that tell-tale contusion left by the monk ramming my head against a window. The one I’d failed to cover with enough makeup.

  “Helena told me about your visit to see Sally Summers,” he said. “The woman you rescued from that abusive relationship.”

  Great. Helena had shared with Riley my vague admittance to a broken heart.

  “Would you like to talk about it?” he said.

  “Believe it or not I tripped against a window.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Riley—”

  “I’m taking this issue to the Yard’s psychiatrist. You can talk it out with her.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I care about you.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Science has provided an idea in the way of blood analysis.” He pushed himself to his feet.

  “Okay,” I said, my gut twisting with the realization I was stuck and cursing myself for the snap decision to have him test my blood.

  Riley sat back down.

  “I need to examine that girl,” I said.

  “First prove you’re capable of functioning without crap in your system and maybe, just maybe, I’ll reconsider.”

  “You think I’ll contaminate the evidence?”

  “I can’t risk it,” he said. “Now spill.”

  I rested my chin on my hands, my head spinning with where to go from here. I had no choice but to visit the morgue after Riley had gone home. Only he never seemed to leave the place.

  He motioned for me to speak. “I’m listening.”

  The windows needed cleaning. They were smudged from rain, and beyond them lay the terrace with its well-tended greenery. A welcome escape for those who needed it. The fleeting illusion of serenity.

  This gaping chasm of truth, if shared, could wreck my career and have me institutionalized.

  With a deep sigh, I began. “There’s a secret that goes back thousands of years.”

  Riley’s narrowed his stare.

  I was beginning all wrong, so I searched for the words that might buy me some time to fully explain and not have him dragging me off to get fitted for a straight jacket.

  “Take your time,” Riley said.

  I swallowed hard, bracing myself for his impending onslaught of questions, the accusations born out of doubt that would soon follow. “Riley...”

  I’m about to turn your world upside down.

  He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers.

  From the doorway, Sgt. Miller stomped toward us, and the fact that he too was here at this time sent shivers up my spine.

  “What’s this?” I snapped at Riley.

  He looked back at the doorway.

  Miller reached our table, out of breath. “Sir, please tell me Helena’s staying over at your place?”

  “That’s kind of personal.” He threw me an accusatory glare.

  “I didn’t say anything,” I said defensively, pushing to my feet.

  “Helena’s mother’s going frantic,” Miller said. “Helena didn’t turn up for her sister’s sixteenth birthday party yesterday. She’s not answering her phone.”

  “That’s not possible.” Riley rose quickly. “We bought her sister’s gift together.” He shot me a look. “Helena would never have missed it.”

  Miller’s glare darted back to me. “Shit.”

  “What’s going on?” I said.

  Miller went pale. “As of last night, Constable Helena Noble became a missing person.”

  CHAPTER 22

&nb
sp; I still didn’t believe Helena was missing.

  Miller and I had driven right over to her home in East London. She still lived with her mother and younger sister. We spent the first hour trying to track Helena’s last movements from what they knew. With her hours being so erratic there wasn’t a lot to go on. They hadn’t seen Helena in over twenty-four hours.

  Alone in her bedroom, I scanned her things again. I was angry with her for what she was putting her mother and sister through. Valuable police time was being wasted. Denial was easier to chase after then face what was too painful to bear.

  Miller was still downstairs comforting Helena’s mother and sister and going over all our questions to make sure we’d missed nothing.

  I wanted to spot the one clue that everyone else had overlooked. Though Helena’s mother had insisted nothing was out of place and everything was as her daughter had left it yesterday morning before heading out for work. Apparently Helena had left Scotland Yard early. Where she’d gone from there was still unknown. The missing person’s squad was trolling through security footage to confirm the time she’d left the station.

  Glancing at the plastic bag containing her toothbrush, needed for identifying her body if found, I felt a wave of panic. We’d gathered recent photos, taken the names of Helena’s friends, acquaintances, and relatives, and we’d made a note of all the places she liked to visit, including coffee shops, parks, as well as her gym.

  I mentally ticked off each item on my checklist, running through the possible scenarios. Helena had probably drank too much booze and fallen asleep somewhere and wasn’t answering her phone. At her age, this wasn’t unusual. A night in the pub with friends that had gone crazily awry and she had several days of nursing a hangover to follow. She’d no doubt suffer for weeks a terrible guilt for missing her sister’s birthday. Not to mention having to face the wrath from our higher-ups.

  Please, God, let that be the case.

  The process of calling every hospital in London had begun. Maybe the pressure of the job had pushed Helena to stay in a hotel for a night or two, in need of solitude. Burn out usually happened in the more seasoned officers, but we had cases of stress showing up in junior officers too, occasionally. Though I’d not seen any sign of strain in either Helena or her work. If anything she thrived during our most tense situations. What was I missing?