by Lynne Murray
The lawyer spread his hands and a smile suddenly rose out of nowhere. I didn’t see any fangs, but it was not a very broad smile. I got the feeling he didn’t show amusement often. “Violet did ask if there was a dress code.”
“I’ve always wondered that too. What’s with the formal evening wear?”
“We find it useful to spread a bit of—how shall we say? Disinformation. Think of it as media hype. After all, you’d be on the alert if some gentleman in sideburns and an opera cape and an exotic lady all in black moved in next door, right?”
“Well, this is San Francisco. That wouldn’t be too unusual.”
“Yes, but you get my point. We focus attention on a cliché that doesn’t exist. It would be more disturbing to think that anyone out after dark could be a vampire. The ordinary citizen behind you on the bus could be undead.”
“So where do you keep the old ladies?” I kept arguing to keep from shaking, I was so nervous.
“At this hour they’re out riding the buses, looking for a meal.” He paused.
“I appreciate the effort at humor.” I hoped he wouldn’t try it anymore.
He raised an eyebrow. Maybe that hadn’t been humor. “Some walk, take taxis or drive. At this hour most of them will have finished, or be pursuing their first meal upon rising.”
He smiled again, and I began to see that he smiled when he was uncomfortable. “By our nature we are not subject to any kind of equal opportunity regulations. We make our own laws—and enforce them.” He paused for emphasis, the smile gone. “It just happens that fewer senior females form relationships with vampires that then—transition into the undead state.”
“Hmm. I wonder why.”
“Kristin—may I call you Kristin?” He paused, didn’t seem to breathe—did they breathe? I was pretty sure I remembered Sir John coughing and breathing. But this quiet office made me realize how much quieter vampires were than humans.
I nodded. “All right, then I’ll call you Edgar.” Somehow I doubted that I would.
“If you wish. Kristin, our organization protects an extremely vulnerable group. To put it bluntly, dead people have no rights. Even our charter as a foundation is framed in such a way as to evade scrutiny. Your friend Violet was lucky enough to die with property. Remember that old saying, ‘You can’t take it with you’? Our goal is to educate new vampires and find ways to protect our members’ possessions, so they will have a small measure of security in their undead state.”
“That makes sense. Rogue vampires would probably bring some heat down on you.”
“They could bring us attention that would cause all of us to be destroyed. By educating new vampires we protect our existence.” His voice was stern. “Sir John is a case in point. Did he tell you the story of how he became a vampire?”
“You mean being hanged and burned as a martyr and rescued by a vampire?”
“Yes, he’s told me about that too.”
“He doesn’t really seem like the religious martyr type.”
“Is there a type? I always thought it was a matter of being stubborn in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Morford cleared his throat.
“I know. I saw the woodcut.”
Edgar smiled a little more broadly, still no visible fangs. “If that is true, it’s one of the earliest documented examples of Vampire Disinformation—and a brilliant one, it’s in the history books. But that may be as close as we’ll get. After so many centuries, it’s hard to know the real truth. Sir John is as much rogue as vampire, and I’m not sure which came first. But I do believe his story that he entered vampire life with less than the clothes on his back, and he has survived with grace and wit and inspired immortal plays and operas. Believe me, his recommendation is a high one.” He cleared his throat, a little misty at the thought.
“I haven’t seen Sir John since the night that Vi, that Vi—” My voice broke, determined not to show weakness in front of this man.
“Sir John always strays, but he shows up again.” He pushed a box of tissues toward me, and I took one and quickly dabbed at my eyes. He cleared his throat. “Vi is awake now and impatient to see you, but we want to establish a secure nest where she won’t be disturbed in the daylight hours. The logical choice would be the Clement Street property that she owned in life. We’re completing the paperwork so she can transfer it to a special trust the SFUFO has set up.”
“I don’t see how it’s possible, since she’s dead and you say your organization doesn’t exist in the real legal world.”
“Technically all of that is true, and the date on the document might be suspect if it weren’t for the fact that the signature on the will and trust documents are completely valid, as are those of the impeccable witnesses. First let’s discuss the terms of Vi’s will, or as we refer to it, her Undying Declaration.”
He tapped the document spread out before me. “She hopes you can manage daytime feeding and caring for the cats. That includes spending at least an hour with the cats during the day, grooming, veterinary visits—interest income from the estate will cover the cats’ care. It’s all outlined in the document. During the evening, you can simply leave the basement door open and Vi will take care of them.”
I was suddenly afraid. “I’ll try it. But I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to handle it.”
He nodded sagely but said nothing.
“If I change my mind, what will Vi do?”
‘If you should refuse, you could still rent the cottage as you do now. The organization has reliable daylight employees who would take care of the cats. They were Violet’s primary concern.”
I smiled—that would be what Vi worried about. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Vi has asked that no formal death notice be published. Something about the books she writes. She told me was that it was hard enough to get an agent when she was alive and she doesn’t want to risk losing one simply because she’s dead. You say only one or two people know she has transitioned. Are they are trustworthy?”
“One of them was there when Sir John brought her over, and the other one I just told she died suddenly. Those two don’t know any of Vi’s other friends. Oh, and the cat ladies. They just wanted to be sure someone was looking after her cats.”
“She has only a few local connections, and she’s going to email them that you’ll be looking after her pets while she’s traveling and doing research in Eastern Europe. She’ll be able to continue to communicate via email.”
I laughed for the first time in days. “That sounds like Vi.”
“Let’s see, what else? An accountant who works for the trust will consult with you about expenses, but your name is already on her checking account.”
“It is?”
He seemed smug. “A great deal can be accomplished outside of bankers’ hours if you know what you’re doing. If you’ll sign this card for the bank records, that will be completed. We have an accountant who will work with you if you need help on anything related to the property. Let us know if it doesn’t work out and we’ll go to plan B. Right now we need you to go to the house and wait for Vi’s arrival.”
I rose, and he reached across the desk. His hand was icy cold. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to call.”
He ushered me into the outer office and nodded to my escort, who stood. “They’ll arrive before midnight.”
Chapter 53
Kristin Marlowe’s typed notes
August 23rd continued
About half an hour after my silent escort dropped me off at Vi’s house two men wearing coveralls with a Midnight Movers Service logo stood on her doorstep. Neither was tall or muscular and both had pale shaven heads and visible piercings in several places. They didn’t look strong enough to be hauling heavy loads, but I would never have guessed they were vampires. “Delivery for Kristin Marlowe. We need you to sign.”
He waited while I signed. I handed the clipboard back.
“Now we need you to give verbal consent for us to bring the crate
in and install it as per Mr. Morford’s instructions.”
“Don’t you mean instructions from Violet Semmelweis?”
He studied the clipboard for a moment. “Yes.”
“Okay.” I stood aside and he waited.
“Um, you have to invite us or we can’t cross the threshold.”
“Oh, sorry. Come on in.”
Both of them looked around wildly. “Don’t ever do that!” the first man said. “Make it very clear who you’re inviting, or you could be in a world of trouble.”
“Sorry. I’m new to this. Should I use your names?”
The first man shrugged. “It wouldn’t hurt. I’m Jeff, he’s Toby.”
“Okay, Jeff and Toby, I hereby formally invite you two Midnight Movers employees to come in for the purposes of bringing Violet home.”
Jeff nodded. “Okay, Toby. We’re good to go.”
They went back down to the van, opened the back of it and tipped a rectangular box onto a large dolly. They got it up the steps and into the hall in short order.
“It says here that she requested installation in the basement.” Jeff nodded approvingly. That’s a good location. No chance of light in the daytime.”
I directed them to the basement door, opened it and stood aside. Jeff and Toby each took an end and started down. I had only been in the basement once or twice to use Vi’s washer and dryer, but the bare, windowless space gave me instant claustrophobia, so I preferred to use the Laundromat two blocks away.
Now I followed the men down the narrow stairs to the concrete-floored space with bare wood beams above. The basement ran the length of the house, with timbers sunk into the concrete and braced to retrofit it against earthquakes. Near the stairway, next to the light switch, a washer, dryer and a hot water heater sat next to utility shelves with tools, boxes of nails, cleaning supplies, light bulbs, old pots and pans and general unidentifiable clutter.
Shelves across from the stairwell held Vi’s remainder books, still in the shipping boxes, neatly labeled by title and number of copies in black felt tip pen. I directed them to put her coffin there. It just seemed to me Vi would want to be near her books.
The two men pulled out crowbars and hammers and opened up the top of the crate. Then very gently they lifted the coffin out, rested it on the dolly for a moment while they flipped the crate over and tested it for stability. Then they set the coffin on top of it. It fit perfectly.
“You’ve done this before.”
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “We do most of them here in the Bay Area. There aren’t that many, but sometimes, like tonight, we’ll have two in a night. Toby custom cuts each crate into a base according to the client’s height, so it’s easy to get in and out of the casket.”
I watched them a little queasily, fascinated, but dreading what came next.
“We won’t know if it’s exactly right till she tries it out here, though.”
He opened the coffin’s lid with a flourish. Vi sat up.
I managed not to faint—just barely.
Chapter 54
Kristin Marlowe’s typed notes
August 23rd continued
I sat down heavily on the lower steps of the staircase. I must have looked shocked enough that Jeff and Toby hovered over me. “Are you okay? It can be a shock sometimes.”
I managed to look at Vi. She had climbed out of the coffin, and stood with her back against it and her arms crossed in front of her. I had looked forward to running to hug her, but unexpected fear and suspicion flooded me. The last time I saw her she had been in bed in her pajamas, dying—dead.
Now she wore slacks and a sweater that were too big for her and didn’t look like anything I’d ever seen her wear. Her hair was the same rumpled salt and pepper gray as usual, and her face was pale, but not waxy and sickly like the last time I’d seen her.
“I’m sorry, Kris. I didn’t mean to—” She didn’t sound any different than usual. Not that faint whisper I had heard from her when she begged me to be sure she wasn’t cremated.
“No, Vi, I’m glad to see you.” Looking at her made me feel dizzy. “You’d think it wouldn’t surprise me after all we’ve been through. But—I guess I’ve been going on autopilot lately, feeding your cats—” Before she could ask, I said, “Yes, I’m feeding the ferals too. Everyone’s fine.”
Jeff and Toby stowed the last of their tools. “Do you like this spot, ma’am?” He gestured to the coffin. “I don’t mean to rush you. Take your time and see if it’s where you want to lie during the daylight hours. We can move it and set it up anywhere.”
Vi looked around, as if seeing her own basement for the first time. “This is good.”
“Are you sure?” Jeff held out his clipboard to her. “I need to get your signature, ma’am, that your installation suits your needs and your friend—” He looked over at me briefly and cleared his throat. “It seemed like a bit of a shock—is your friend going to be able to handle it?”
Vi’s eyes pleaded with me, but she straightened up and took the clipboard. “Kris, if this is too much for you, Edgar said he can send a daytime staff member over tomorrow to help out.”
“I’ll be okay. I just need to get used to it.”
The delivery guys looked relieved. “Like I said, we’ve got another client to install before dawn,” Jeff muttered while Vi signed her part of the form. Toby used a cloth to remove a phantom speck of dust from the coffin and stood up to go.
Jeff shook Vi’s hand, and Toby followed suit. “We’re just glad to see Sir John claiming one of his own,” Jeff said. “He hasn’t made a vampire in—well, I’ve never heard of him ever doing it. It’s a small, twilight world, Violet, and we protect our own.” He sketched a rough salute. “We’re honored to set up the coffin for someone Sir John brought over.”
“Thank you.” Vi smiled, showing her new fangs. She saw me staring and stopped smiling.
I must have been shocked to the point of babbling. “But what about the Others?”
“The Others?” Jeff and Toby turned eyes on me that suddenly were cold and flat.
Oops.
“What do you know about the Others?” Jeff’s tone was hostile, almost threatening.
“I—I—” Behind them Vi put her finger across her lips to caution silence. “I don’t know. I just heard the term.”
“You should be very glad you never met those things, lady. Or you’d be undead, but not snug in a coffin in some nice, dry basement.” Jeff laughed nervously.
Toby did not laugh. “We don’t talk about those things. We don’t think about those things.” He turned to Vi. “We don’t look at those things if they show up in front of us. Don’t go thinking you’re immortal now. Lots of things can destroy you. Go to your orientation classes starting tonight to find out how to protect yourself. In the meantime keep your eyes to yourself and just ignore anything that crosses your path until you get to class tonight. Mrs. Battle will teach you how to survive.”
Once you got him started, Toby was hard to shut up.
Jeff tapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got to get back to work. Say hi to Sir John when you see him.” Reluctantly he turned to include me as well. “Call Mr. Morford’s office if you need help.” To Vi, he said, “The number is posted on the inside of your coffin.”
Vi stayed on the basement stairs, but I escorted the men out and watched them through the not quite closed door.
“What is that woman doing talking about The Others!” Toby said, putting the dolly into the back of the van and slamming the door. He suddenly looked wildly around, as if someone might be observing him.
“I wonder where they heard about that.” Jeff got into the driver’s side of the van.
Toby got in the passenger side. He didn’t seem to notice me watching—perhaps the door looked closed. “You gonna tell Mr. Morford?” The van door slammed before I could hear Jeff’s reply.
I closed the front door, locked it and double-checked all the windows. Going back to the basement, I noticed
that all the cats were crouching around the door. For some reason I didn’t want to go back down there. “Vi. Your cats are all up here, looking down into the cellar.”
That got her. I knew it would. She came up to look, and I instantly regretted having said anything. The cats heard her footsteps on the stairs and ran to hide. I had forgotten how afraid they were of Sir John.
She came upstairs and looked around. No cats.
Our eyes met. “Um, they just ran away.”
“Well, I must smell different now, and it’s all about scent for them. Did you feed them?”
“Yes, this morning and earlier tonight.”
“Are they coming around to get petted?”
“Yes.” I was sad about that all of a sudden, as if I were alienating her cats’ affection.
“Well, I’d better get to my orientation meeting.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s out at Land’s End.”
“Do you want me to drive you?”
“The strange thing is, Kris, I feel great now. I know I look the same as when I died.”
“Actually, you look better.”
She smiled, but without fangs. “I haven’t felt this energetic since I was a teenager. I could probably run to Land’s End, but I’d better not. Somehow a gray-haired old lady sprinting down the street might get the wrong kind of attention.” She stretched to demonstrate—yep, flexible and graceful. “I’d better go find out about getting something to eat.”
A sudden wave of fear washed over me. “You haven’t, um, eaten?”
“Don’t worry, they gave me a couple of pints from a blood bank when I first woke up.” Vi smiled again. Seeing the new fangs didn’t reassure me. “Vampire fast food.”
We both laughed, the first time in what seemed like forever.
“My orientation meeting starts in half an hour. I’ll drive myself. Are my keys still on the hook near the door?”
I nodded and only shuddered a little when she brushed past me to go out. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” I managed a weak smile in return. “Don’t wait up for me.”
