The Stein & Candle Detective Agency, Vol. 3: Red Reunion (The Stein & Candle Detective Agency #3)

by Michael Panush

  Sly spoke up. “We have to stop it,” he said. “We’ve got to think of a way.”

  “Don’t worry.” I looked to my squad. “I’ve got the best soldiers in the world here to help me.”

  Selena raised her hand, like a kid in school. “Morton? I decided to make two more calls. We should have a little more company soon enough. I hope that’s all right.” I nodded, and she explained. “I called Reverend Sharp, from his home in the Appalachians. I think a holy man, who can create various devices to help us, would be quite useful. And I placed another call to Los Angeles. I was assured that Adam will arrive as soon as possible.”

  Normally, I wouldn’t like others getting involved in my problems. But given the situation, I was grateful for all the help I could get. I smiled at Selena. “That was a good call, sister. We can use the assistance.” I yawned and stubbed out the cigarette. “All right. That’s enough for the night. Let’s get some shuteye, and tomorrow we’ll plan out what to do with Count Dracula and Wagner Stein.”

  My little army split up. Tiny, Elkins and Dutch headed back to their room. They were tired from the trip, and needed the rest. Tiny decided to go back to his truck first, and ready some weapons for tomorrow. I had no doubt they’d come in handy. Chad and Selena said goodnight to Weatherby and headed to their room. Sly did the same.

  I had another shower to get more of the garbage smell off of me, and then prepared to hit the hay. When I walked out of the bathroom, one of the Hotel Grande’s silk robes feeling like a lover’s hand on my battered body, I stopped and looked at the living room.

  Weatherby, Evelyn Dearborn and Henry Wallace stood there, all watching TV together. Henry Wallace sat between Evelyn and Weatherby, and they looked like some miniature family, taking a break out of their busy day to spend time together. They were watching some Western program, and commenting on it.

  “It seems terribly unrealistic,” Weatherby explained. “I am certain that the dusty ‘cowpokes’ as they are called could not be such excellent shots, and they certainly did not have such excellent hair and white teeth as these actors.”

  “It’s a television show, Weatherby. Maybe you haven’t seen one before, but they take certain liberties with the truth,” Evelyn explained gently. “I take that back, actually. I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t seen much popular entertainment.”

  “Well, I think it’s swell, Miss Dearborn,” Henry Wallace said. “The gun-fighting is really exciting, and the music is nice too.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it, darling. And you can call me Evelyn.” Evelyn reached over Henry Wallace, putting her arm around Weatherby’s slim shoulder. “But having been in a few firefights myself, I must assure you that they are nothing but utterly horrible.”

  “I-I know,” Henry Wallace agreed softly. There was real fear in his voice. “I’ve been in a few of them too.” The danger of our situation was finally becoming clear to the poor kid. I felt sorry for him.

  “You poor dear.” Evelyn smiled sadly at him. “But don’t you worry. Weatherby and I, your father, and Mr. Candle and all of his soldier friends are here to watch over you, and ensure your safety. And we all promise that no harm will ever come to you, Henry Wallace. Now, why don’t we finish this program and return to our rooms for some sleep. I am sure both of you must be quite fatigued.”

  “Y-yes,” Weatherby said. “But I don’t feel it at all, Evelyn, when I’m in your company.”

  I smiled to myself at his clumsy affection and headed back to my bedroom. I decided to leave the kids alone, letting them have a little time when they could be together and be happy. Looking back on that horrible showdown with Count Dracula and Wagner Stein in the Big City, I’m glad I gave them that moment. By tomorrow afternoon, all three of those kids would have gone through pure Hell.

  Big City Showdown, Part Two

  I wasn’t used to sleeping lightly. During the War, every time I closed my eyes I expected to have to crack them open soon as some mortar shells started screaming down from the sky like the wrath of God, or German boots crunched on snow and pine needles. Then it’d be time to wake up and start the killing. I got older, and maybe I got slower – but I didn’t sleep any deeper. Even when I lay on the comfortable sheets of the king-sized bed in the Hotel Grande, surrounded by my friends and allies, I slept lightly. That’s what saved my life.

  I heard someone in the room and my eyes flashed open. For a split second I thought I was still asleep and just having a nightmare. That’s where the face I saw belonged. It had a rat’s snout, long fangs, and dark eyes in a face as pale as snow. Long fingers tipped with longer nails reached out for my throat. The Nosferatu hissed, like a snake about to strike.

  I didn’t give the bastard the chance. The damn vampire should have known I could never sleep without a loaded pistol under the pillar. I went for the .45 as the vampire lunged forward. “Mortal!” he snarled, reaching for my throat. “Prepare yourself for a taste of eternity!”

  It was too late in the middle of the night for any snappy remarks. I got the gun and swung it under the vampire’s chin. He paused. I pulled the trigger. I had carved a cross in my bullet the night before. That made the bullet holy – and it caused it to spread out in a victim’s body. The shot entered through the vampire’s mouth and left through the back of his head, taking most of the bastard’s skull with it.

  He slumped down on the bed and I stood up. The gunshot was ringing in my ears and I was still not quite woken up. I heard more gunshots echoing down the hallways. Screams and shouts followed. I pulled on a pair of trousers and grabbed the tommy gun from the closet as my mind raced. My friends were under attack. It was time to wake up and help them.

  “Weatherby!” I dashed out of my bedroom and into the main chamber of the hotel room. The door had been smashed open. The kid stood before the couch, wearing his striped pajamas under his father’s red velvet smoking jacket. He was holding up a crucifix, the only thing keeping two Nosferatu from pouncing on him and draining him to the last drop of blood.

  Heavy footsteps and more gunshots sounded in the hall. Weatherby turned to face me. “Mort!” he cried, terror making his voice high and nervous. “Evelyn! Henry Wallace! Selena! They’re all out there! We have to help them!” They were his family. If I wasn’t careful, he’d be orphaned again.

  But first I had to save him. “Kiss the carpet, kiddo!” I ordered, raising the tommy gun.

  Weatherby did as he was told, diving down as I opened fire. My shots roared over his head, sinking into the Nosferatu and knocking them to the ground. A burst of fat .45s might not kill them, but it still ripped their undead flesh and put them down. My boots were by the couch, my knife still in them. I grabbed the blade and finished the vamps off.

  I worked quickly, stabbing through their bullet-ridden bodies and pricking their hearts. They hissed and snarled as they turned to ash, the gray dust filling the carpet. It’d run up my cleaning bill. I didn’t mind.

  I heard footsteps in the hall and two skeletons in purple suits appeared in the doorway, pistols raised. I gave them the rest of the magazine, shredding their expensive suits and busting their bones. They fell away without getting off a shot, and I ditched the Thompson. I moved under the couch, grabbing the shotgun I had stashed there.

  Weatherby and I both knew what the skeletons in the purple glad rags meant – Wagner Stein as well as Dracula was sending his goons after us. “Christ,” I muttered. “How’d these bums get by security?”

  “Magic, perhaps! Some t-teleportation spell?” Weatherby hurried to the door, stepping over the skeletons. “We’ve got to help our friends, Mort! We’ve got destroy these devils before something awful happens!” I tried to warn him, but he was already stepping into the hall. The kid was seeing red, and that made him blind to any danger.

  I grabbed the shotgun and dashed after him, stepping into the hall. I saw a bunch of skeletons clustered around the door in the back, trading shots with my veteran buddies. I had no doubt that Dutch, Tiny and Elkins
would prevail – but for the moment, they were pinned down and unable to help. Weatherby was running for the room next to ours, when another door creaked open and Evelyn Dearborn stepped out.

  “Evelyn! Oh thank all the gods and devils!” Weatherby ran to her, a little color coming back into his pale face. I heard something moving in the hall behind me. I turned around, a sinking feeling coming into my chest as I raised the shotgun. The two kids didn’t even notice.

  Evelyn wore a dark robe over her nightgown, and held Weatherby’s shoulders. “My father killed three skeletons, Weatherby,” she said quickly. “He’s resting up. There was something else too, which gave him much more trouble. I think we have to leave. Is your sister and her boyfriend and that dear little boy all right?”

  I was going to check in on them, but a more pressing matter got my attention. I turned around to see what was clanking my way, raising my shotgun to fill it full of lead. I saw a suit of full armor coming toward me, steel rattling with each ponderous step. I had fought metal mugs like this in Wagner Stein’s tomb. They didn’t go down easy.

  I fired the shotgun into the chest of the empty knight, racked the gun and fired again, but it kept coming. Two more armored suits followed, these ones armed with long pikes. The knight in the middle didn’t need no sword or spear. It ran toward me and grabbed the shotgun, metal fingers bending the barrel. Then it slugged me in the chest and I went down, a bomb blasting to life in my gut.

  I felt the carpet on my back. Breathing suddenly became a full time job. I looked up at Weatherby and Evelyn. “R-run!” I wheezed. “Run!”

  But they didn’t listen. Weatherby headed my way, Evelyn close behind. The kid reached into his smoking jacket, drawing out a small golden orb the size of a marble. It was some magic gewgaw that might shut down the living suits of armor. It might even have worked, but the poor kid never got a chance. As he reached over me, a hand in a dark sleeve shot out and grabbed his arm. Weatherby was thrown hard against the wall and sank to the floor.

  I titled my head to see our attackers. Count Dracula and Viscount Wagner Stein stood there in the hallway, looking over Weatherby, Evelyn and me. Weatherby managed a gurgled cry before Dracula kicked him hard in the chest.

  They were going to finish us both, but Wagner suddenly shook his head. “Wait. Let’s have a little fun with them first.” He took a step toward Evelyn. Weatherby and I both looked up at her, telling her to run. “Who is this delectable little morsel? Do you like her, Weatherby? She’s as lovely as your sister – and younger too.”

  Evelyn raised her hands. “D-don’t—” she started. Dracula held back Weatherby and the knight put an armored boot on my chest, pinning me to the carpet. Wagner grabbed one of Evelyn’s long braids. He pulled her close to him, using his silver skull-tipped cane to prevent her escape. Weatherby screamed, an incoherent yelp of rage and pain. Dracula slugged him across the face.

  Then, the door next to ours slammed open. Henry Wallace Baum stepped out, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. The kid wore his striped pajamas and a dark blue robe. He looked smaller than a mouse, like you could pick him and pocket him if you wanted to. But he saw Evelyn in trouble and his eyes got wide with terror and bravery.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Henry Wallace said, his rage growing. “Don’t hurt Miss Dearborn!”

  He lunged at Wagner Stein – and got a cane bashed against his chest for his trouble. Evelyn screamed. Henry Wallace crumpled to the ground. Wagner laughed at our misery. I knew the type. He was a sadist. He’d pull the legs off of spiders just to watch them squirm. Now we were the spider, and he was going to enjoy himself. He brought the cane down on Henry Wallace, striking the boy’s legs, arms and chest. Evelyn struggled to break his grip, but Wagner was just too strong.

  “This is your champion, Weatherby? This is the army you’ve brought to stand against me?” Wagner asked, punctuating each word with a powerful strike. I didn’t know how much more Henry Wallace could take. “I am disappointed. He is even more pathetic than you. But I suppose I should be used to that.” He gave the cane a rest, and kicked Henry Wallace when he was down. “That’s why you shall be defeated, Weatherby. You and your entire generation. Because while you are well-meaning, and perhaps even a little brave, you are soft as mud.” He twisted the handle of his cane, revealing a long thin blade. “And I am hard as steel.”

  But before he could hack poor Henry Wallace in half, we finally got a little luck. A blast of heavy machine gun fire came from the room down the hall. The skeletons were shot to bones, and Tiny stepped into the hall, swinging a Browning automatic rifle to face Wagner and Dracula. He let out a burst at the knight holding me down, riddling it with lead and reducing it to a clanking mass of busted metal.

  Dracula knew the score. He and Wagner couldn’t stand against that much firepower, even with all the black magic and unholy power they possessed. “You fool!” he told Wagner. “We must fly!”

  “But I’m not through with her!” Wagner pushed Evelyn toward Dracula. “Take her to the tower!” His skin started going indistinct, his face shifting like he was a malfunctioning movie. I had seen it before. The bastard was turning to smoke.

  Bullets started burning through the air around them, but Dracula didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed Evelyn and pulled her close to him. He was gentle with her, and I could almost see why so many English dames had enjoyed having him visit them. He pounded down the hall, running to the open window. Weatherby stood up and limped after him. The kid only made it a few steps before collapsing.

  Tiny, Elkins and Dutch ran down the hall. The two remaining knights moved to stop them. Dutch used his shotgun to blast the helmet off of one suit of armor, and Elkins’ rifle finished off the other. They helped me up and I turned around to see Dracula leaping through the window – carrying Evelyn with him. Wings of living shadow erupted from Dracula’s shoulders. They flapped leisurely, keeping him and Evelyn aloft. The girl didn’t even get a chance to scream.

  It was quiet for a few seconds. Weatherby was sobbing. Henry Wallace wasn’t saying anything. I leaned against the wall, catching my breath and feeling my bruises and cuts. Another door slammed open, and Sly Baum ran into the hall and to his son. Without a word, he grabbed the crumpled body of his little boy and held him close.

  Chad and Selena got into the hall too. Chad had a fat bruise on his forehead and claw marks on his neck, and Selena had a nasty cut on her arm, which she held tightly. Chad looked around in terror, spotting Henry Wallace. “Oh no,” he said. “Oh no. We should’ve helped. There was some skeleton trying to strangle me, and it took a while for Selena to smash it with a lamp. We should have been faster. We should have helped.”

  Old Doc Dearborn was the last one to leave his room. He had a bad cut on his shoulder and a smoking revolver in his hand. His tired eyes scanned the hall. “Evelyn?” he asked. He looked up at me. “Mr. Candle, where is my daughter?” I couldn’t answer him.

  Weatherby was a braver man than I. “They took her,” he cried. He stayed on the ground, tears streaming down his face. “I failed again. The ones I loved are destroyed, just like in Castle Stein and it’s my own fault!”

  Selena hurried to her little brother. She swept him up in a fierce hug. “No,” she said. “That’s not true, Weatherby, and you know it. Mother and father’s deaths were not your fault. This was not your fault either. You can’t despair now. Evelyn is still alive and we can rescue her. We will rescue her.” She squeezed his shoulder and kissed his forehead. “You have great courage and strength, Weatherby and your friends need you. It is time to show Wagner Stein that our family hasn’t gotten weaker – but has infinitely improved.”

  That was all the pep talk Weatherby needed. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and stood up. “We have to get Henry Wallace to a hospital immediately,” he said. “I know we have first aid kits, but the boy requires greater attentions than we can provide.” He nodded to me. “Mort, we’ll take him in our automobile. Mr. Baum, you had better accompany us.”

 
; “And Evelyn?” Doc Dearborn asked. He had the same steely calm as Weatherby.

  “She’s at the Knight Building. Wagner won’t do anything to her. He wants to make me watch, to antagonize me.” Weatherby shivered. “That’s his nature. At sunrise – in just an hour or two – when Dracula and the vampires are weaker, we’ll go and rescue her. You have my word, sir.”

  Dearborn was skeptical. “How exactly are you planning to do that, son?”

  I reached down and grabbed my fallen .45. I checked the clip and slammed it back in. “Simple,” I said. “Kill everything – living or undead – that gets in my way.”

  Elkins laughed. “Now that sounds like a plan, Sarge.”

  It certainly did. “I need you boys to get dressed and get ready. We’ll leave as soon as Sly, Weatherby and me get back from taking the kid to the hospital.” I reached into my room, grabbing my trench coat to hold off the night’s chill. “Tiny, you ought to manage the weapons. Make sure we’ve got enough ammunition to do what we’ve got to do.”

  “You got it, Sarge. You drive careful now, you hear?” Tiny was staring at Henry Wallace. He didn’t like seeing a child hurt. Tiny was a gentle giant – until he got behind the trigger of a heavy machine gun. “We’ll be all loaded up by the time you get back.”

  “Aces.” I stood next to Sly. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Come on, buddy,” I said. “Let’s get moving.”

  He didn’t say anything. His eyes were wide and watery. We walked along together to the elevator, Sly holding Henry Wallace in his hands. The boy’s eyes fluttered open suddenly. “Papa?” he whispered, as we got into the elevator. “What happened? Did I save her… d-did I…” The boy trailed off.

  “Don’t worry, sport,” Sly said. They were the first words he had said all night. “Everything’s gonna be just swell.”

  The nearest hospital was a couple blocks away. Early morning traffic was just starting to fill the city, so I could run red lights and scream past the speed limit without fear of bumping into anyone. I put the Roadmaster through its paces and got to the hospital in record time. Some doctors came out to meet us and I had them bring a stretcher out for Henry Wallace. They got him inside and went to work.