“Has anyone ever told you you’re too open?” said Schwartz “No. Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Tell me all you know about Von Estermann – I’ll do my best.”
“Goes by the Ordensname of Von, or Von Uradel.”
“He’s got a very high opinion of himself,” commented Schwartz. Uradel means ‘Ancient nobility’ in German. It normally applies to noble families in Northern Europe who were founded before 1400. Most Noble families – at least in the Versteckt world – were of an even older lineage; Edelfrei, most families of that age have disappeared into obscurity long ago.
“He sure does,” I agreed, “But at least himself doesn’t call himself Von Edelfrei.”
“You could,” Schwartz said. He pointed his finger at me like Lord Kitchener
“Really? Uradel, yes, but Edelfrei? A member of an ancient aristocratic line?"
“You’re a Huntsman,” argued Schwartz. “All Huntsmen are descendent from a small group who were baptized into Huntsmen in the 4th Century by the original four Noble families. And since there were centuries of interbreeding between Huntsmen and the Nobles, you could be called aristocratic.”
“Fine. Defeat me with your logic and facts,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But listen to me. You know what Von whatever-his-name-is has already done, but it is of paramount importance that he is killed the minute he is released from prison.”
“The Council of Huntsmen have since classified Michael Merkel as Graf Von Merkel, as there were numerous documents – hidden from the official police investigation – with Michael Graf Von Merkel on them, and Susie has testified that he considered himself a count.” The judicial workings of the Versteckt world were suspect at best. Huntsmen were both law enforcement and the judiciary, not to mention that they held some legislative power.
“You believe he was working for the Nobles?”
“We do.”
“Is that how this works?” Schwartz said. “You give me information, I do you a favor?”
“Something like that,” I agreed. “If we went to court for RICO Act charges we’d all be screwed. They’d have a field day. We tick every box.”
“In all seriousness, look out for yourself.”
“Or we’ll end up like Sam and Dean Winchester in ‘Supernatural’, getting chased around the country by FBI Special Agent Hendrikson.”
“You watch way too much TV,” he said, sighing.
“I know,” I agreed. “Really, in all seriousness, how’s Karen?”
“Good enough, considering. She’s strong.”
“How’s the case?”
“You did all the work for us,” answered Schwartz gratefully. “But what you haven’t done, he has. There are pictures of her all around his one bedroom apartment. Open and shut. No worries.”
“Really? Even my drunkenness won’t get in the way?”
“You weren’t drunk,” Schwartz said.
“That’s not the point.”
“Sharkey business still hurting?” He looked genuinely concerned, but I could see
“Don’t ask.”
“I have.”
“I like you, Schwartz,” I said honestly.
“I know that.”
“Cheeky bastard.”
“Cheeky bitch.”
“‘Supernatural’?”
“Nah, Marty Phillips.”
“Of course.”
Schwartz’ expression returned to its normal guarded self. He spoke softly. “You know, the Lewis gang… you wouldn’t have anything to do with their disappearance, would you?”
I nodded softly. “As it turns out, they were vampires. Which meant that Ashley stopped caring about the law. Just… justice.”
“That’s what your people deal with, isn’t it, justice?” said Schwartz, continuing in his soft tone. “Law is just a simple answer to a complicated question.”
A woman, presumably Schwartz’s wife, walked up to us. She was about his age, which is a few years older than me, five or so years’, maybe. She was pretty, not radiant, brunette, green eyes. Mrs. Schwartz flashed her inner Löwenfrau. The hair receded slightly, but remained the same color. Löwenvolk looked very similar to Fuchsvolk, cousins you might think, but they weren’t, not even close, and the further you delve into the Versteckt world, the more you realize things like that are very complicated.
“Honey, what are you talking about with Phillips?” she said in a drawl that would have fitted in the fifties. I was, belatedly in realizing I must admit, I was something of a minor celebrity in certain circles.
“Eh, stuff,” I answered.
“One of these days, you boys are going to come up with better excuses.”
“Really? I always thought my excuses were exemplary. What do you think, Detective?”
“That’s enough Phillips wit for today,” said Schwartz.
“How about Phillips stupidity?” I countered. “If anyone knows what to get a pre-teen Wolffrau for Christmas, do share.”
“Really?” said Mrs. Schwartz. “We’re Löwenvolk, not Wolfvolk. And we’re Ungefährlich Verstecktvolk.”
“Relax,” said Schwartz “Marty didn’t mean anything. It’s just Christmas Eve, and he hasn’t got a present yet. Besides, Susie is an Ungefährlich Verstecktfrau too. Don’t forget that.”
“Friends with a Huntsman” Mrs. Schwartz said sarcastically, “That’s a great idea.”
“I think this about the time that I do the famous Huntsman disappearing act.”
“Just about.”
Continuing my hunt for a good Christmas present, I ran into Walker and his wife. She looked a lot better than the last time I’d seen her. The bruises had disappeared, leaving Mrs. Walker with a slightly battle-worn expression, but she looked happy, really happy. They mightn’t know Susie was a Wolffrau, or that our world even existed, but that would probably help, in hindsight. Preconceived ideas were very much part of Versteckt culture.
“How about a phone?”
“Already sorted.”
“PS4?”
“That too.”
“iPod?”
“This conversation is slowly becoming pointless.”
“Oh, Jesus, it’s not my fault you spoil her,” pointed out Walker, in pure spiky fashion. “And why don’t you ask Wil or your sister?”
“This isn’t an interrogation”
“Then why do I feel prosecuted?”
“What about me?”
“What about you?”
“Oh, for god’s sake, you two, you sound like the Two Stooges,” interrupted Walker’s wife.
“I thought there were three stooges.”
“That’s the point.”
“Really? I hadn’t figured that out already, Mrs. Walker,” I said sarcastically. “Thank you very much.”
“Oh, come on, you never get anyone else’s jokes but your own, and the rest of us aren’t as geeky as you, Phillips.”
“So? D’you have a problem with that, Walker?” I said, then, something holding me back slightly, I continued, addressing Walker’s wife. “I’m sorry you have to witness this. Andy and I have been arguing since the Academy. Habit really. Not too serious.”
“Not serious anymore, at least,” corrected Walker.
“And your sister managed to drag you to the Christmas Eve Ball, quite the accomplishment it would seem.”
“If only,” I said smiling slightly “I’m here with a date actually…”
“An employee…” said Mrs. Walker. “How’s that going actually?”
“Quite well. She’ll probably have disappeared by the end of the month, though. That’s her style. At the moment, she’s just living off the fact our grandfather’s knew each other, that’s how she knew my sister, and me by extension. I don’t think she’s held down a job for much more than a month or so in her whole life.”
“So you’re relying entirely on your sister to see if she really is as she appears,” said Walker’s wife.
“Basically” I agreed, continuing. “Though she was
in my grade in High School for a few months, before her parents moved again. No one but Annie and I would talk to her. Very quiet. She was a bit odd back then. Still is, of course, just less noticeable. And she is a great investigator.”
“In between the pop culture puns?”
“In between everything,” I agreed, “Unfortunately, probably because she has no respect for the law. That always helps.”
“It did with you.”
“Oh, thank you, Walker.”
“Where you and Annie High School sweethearts?” said Walker’s wife, smiling the way some women did when they talked about romance, as if the whole idea made their world better.
“God no,” I answered, “She thought I was a jerk, which I probably was.”
“Oh, come on, you couldn’t have been that bad.”
“I slept with every girl in my class. It was a game,” I answered. “I’d spend time dating them, flirting with them all at once. A complete manwhore and they knew it. No respect for me, either, thankfully. The only one that I was never able to get in bed was Tasaria and that had more to do with her parents than anything else. Super religious, orthodox Romanian.”
“But you managed this time,” said Walker, smiling. “Or were you really ‘under the weather last night’?”
“No. I was watching TV, mostly. ‘Supernatural’ binge,” I said, remembering the hours of escapism. “The new series are just like the first few. Disjointed plot, individual episodes, just Sam and Dean on the road, them and the Impala. Tasaria’s a fan too. We had to give Susie notice to clear out. I think she was relieved actually. All the flirting was kind of driving her mad.”
“Well, it was pretty bad,” said Walker. “Especially when you started flirting with that missing girl’s sister.”
“She was hot!”
“That’s not the point. The point is both of you were flirting with her.”
“Well, then you should be glad that there’s an end to all of this.”
“I am.”
“Then why are we having this conversation?” I turned to his wife. “We met a few years after High School. I’d been a detective a year. Just bumped into her on the street. We went for a drink. I proposed to her after two years. We were married for four years.”
“That was fast,” commented Walker’s wife.
I shrugged. “My parents weren’t happy. I think they thought I just was just messing around as usual. Her parents weren’t much better. But it sorted itself out after a while. Everyone got used to it. Wil was my best man, you know, all awkward. Christ, I miss those times. I even miss arguing with you, Andy.”
“You’re starting to sound like my father.”
“I know. It’s a side-effect of the drink. The liver is processing so much that it slows the rest of the body down. I’ll probably need a new one, which is problematic. I’m AB negative, rare. Ashley is too, but she’s too old. My uncle and my cousin are B. I’m not sure about my second cousins, I don’t want to ask.”
`“Since when were you such a killjoy, Martin Phillips?” asked Walker’s wife.
“Since I overindulged.”
“I thought that was the opposite of your problem,” commented Walker’s wife softly. “I know how much you loved Annie, it was so damn obvious.”
“No. You don’t” I said, not glumly, not sadly, just earnestly. “No one will ever know. Not that they need to.”
“And yet you’re able to move onto Tasaria?”
I smiled. “‘move onto Tasaria?’ Walker, you can’t compare what I had with Annie, and what I have with Tasaria. This is just an old-style fling.”
“And what was you and Annie in the beginning?”
“I had no idea what it was, Walker, but I didn’t care. I wanted more, but of what, I didn’t know. I needed her,” I said vehemently. “Everything I’d ever needed, and I’d ignored her since that few weeks we dated. And since when did you care about my love life?”
Walker shrugged. A pure Walker shrug, angst, coolness, attitude, control, all in one, rather like my own, I think. “Just keeping an eye on the enemy. Annie was a battle-ax when she wanted to be. And Tasaria is a battle-ax. You clearly like taking orders.”
“Only from certain people. I hate taking orders from my sister.”
Walker scoffed. “Then why do you?”
“Family rule,” I answered. “Always obey your elders. And if you don’t, your elders will have a way of making you do what they want anyway. Especially true with my dear sis. Why she became a lawyer in the first place.”
“That sounds nice.”
“Comment of ages.”
“Thank you, Sir Martin.”
“You’re welcome, Sir Andrew.”
Walker’s wife laughed at us. I was walking away when she called after me, “Get her something classy. A memento.”
12
Doubt
Doubt thou, the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt, I love.
(William Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 2, Scene II, Hamlet)
They came late that night.
The Brasoveanus.
I was sitting at my temporary desk at Headquarters. A gun-barrel on the lower back. I didn’t turn. Keep the advantage. “Brasoveanu. What do you want?”
“A talk.”
“Well, aren’t we very civil?”
“Now’s not the time for Phillips humor.”
“My sister doesn’t have any.”
“I was referencing your father.”
“Ah. People have a habit of doing that.”
“Move. Now.”
I got up, following the Brasoveanu’s direction. Deep voice. Slightly underweight. Rustle of a suit. Strong Eastern European accent. Father, perhaps. Gun was small. A snub-nose. .38 Special, maybe. Good size. I was flanked by his men, following my every step. Dark complexions. Romani, Brasoveanu or friends. Gangsters would have been jealous at this operation.
We went into the bathroom. Empty, of course. Slowly, I turned around. It was the patriarch of the clan. His face was pock-marked, darker than his children’s; long black hair in a ponytail and brown, nearly black, eyes. He wore a grey suit, like a worn-down detective – which he clearly knew – and a crucifix hung from his neck. There wasn’t a hint to suggest that he wasn’t as he seemed. Except I knew he wasn’t.
“What’s your name?” I said. “And please, I know the surname, and I know who you are, just not your first name?”
“Alexandru.”
We shook hands. There were two other men in the room, a few years older than Tasaria and Nicolae. Their brothers. Sunglasses. Suits, crucifixes around their necks like their father. One was stationed at the door, the other by the window. There was a bulge in their belts, ankles too. I looked at the gun. Smith & Wesson Bodyguard. Infamous. Used in the Vietnam photo. Didn’t bode well. Poor General Nguyễn Ngọc Loan would have been happy. I hoped I didn’t end up like his prisoner. And this was US soil.
“I’d like to get this over with,” I said, producing my Glock and my Python. Placing them slowly on the floor, I kicked them across the floor in the vague direction of Alexandru Brasoveanu.
One of the Brasoveanu’s picked up the guns, emptied the Python into his hand and took out the Glock’s magazine. He retreated to the door.
“D’you always travel so well armed?”
“I’m an ex-cop,” I answered earnestly. “I’m suspicious, and that was before I found out the Big Bad Wolf was real, and there wasn’t just one.”
Brasoveanu laughed.
“Get on with it, will you? If I’m gone too long, Tasaria will notice. And then she’ll call the cavalry.”
“We’ll be gone long before any of the cavalry get here.”
“Too bad most of it’s already here. Tasaria’s outside, Susie and Ashley. That’s all I need. Plus there’s a few Verstecktvolk in the Department.”
“It’s late. Not very many people are here. And
most are slightly inebriated,” Brasoveanu said. “What are you doing here this late?”
“I’m finishing some work on a case, well, a few actually, though I’m sure you know that. An awful lot of people going missing lately around here. That, and I was around town, I needed to get my daughter a Christmas present.”
“What do you expect us to do, anyway, Phillips?”
“Talk.”
“Then why are you so worried about the cavalry?”
“Because the word ‘talk’ has many meanings in different situations, and I have no idea what you want to talk about.”
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t really want to know, and there’s probably a few reasons.”
“You’re right. There’s two; one, you’re sleeping with my daughter – she’s been missing for months, and no one told me she was in town – and, two, you’ve got a vampire problem. You need help.”
“First of all, we’re dealing with the aftermath of a vampire problem – we’ve exterminated the younger generations, but the source, that eludes us momentarily,” I answered. “Well, momentarily providing that Nicolae isn’t a pathological liar like I think he is, or we’ll be here until next Christmas.”
“Nicu’s good enough at alchemy,” said Alexandru “It’s not his fault he’s barking up a very big tree.”
“And who said we needed help? A little birdy, a spider perhaps.”
“If you’re accusing Nicu, you can forget it. He hasn’t trusted me in years.”
“I wonder why?”
He jabbed the Smith & Wesson close to my face. “You don’t know anything about my family, Phillips. Anything.”
“I know enough. I know the type. Overprotective. Religious zealot – i.e. you make it up as you go along, and you’re a complete homophobe. On the right track?”
“Do you want me to punch you?”
“And do you want to get punched back?”
“My daughter is ill, so I’m actually glad she’s going out with you. And you’re a Huntsman. Nice and stable.”
“There is nothing ‘stable’ about me. If you’ve done your homework, which you no doubt have, then you know that,” I said earnestly. “And if you call Tasaria ill in front of me again, I’ll knock your teeth out, Alexandru.”
Marty Phillips (Book 2): The Taste of Blood Page 9
