The Vampire Files Anthology

by P. N. Elrod

  A moment later Swann helped the driver open the back of the truck. Cold, fresh air blew in, putrid air tainted with corpse rot flowed out. Swann made a disgusted face and stood back.

  Barrett’s body had slipped over on its side, no one had straightened him.

  Still out or playing possum.

  Or dead.

  I hoped not dead.

  There was no sign of the shaking Izzy had reported. He looked bad, but a big point in his favor was that he’d not shrunken in on himself with sudden desiccation.

  That happens to our kind when there’s a massive blood loss, like getting a stake in the heart.

  But in this case, Barrett had his skull smashed, and he’d not lost much blood. For all I knew he might truly be gone and the signs wouldn’t be evident for some while yet.

  During the ride I’d taken pains not to think about whether he was dead for real. It hadn’t been that long since we’d been at the club, about an hour, perhaps. He might need the rest of the night and a day on his home earth before he woke up.

  Kaiser dragged him over and hoisted him on top of one massive shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

  The grinning guy took charge of Izzy. No one ordered him to, he’d volunteered himself. I stood up as he pulled her to her feet, but Thorp snarled at me to stay put. Instead of holding his gun on me, he kept it on her. They got her out, then I was allowed to follow, urged by the cheerful digger.

  I managed to land on and keep my feet, no small achievement with my hands behind me. I’d hooked one thumb through the loops so the rope still appeared secure.

  Izzy swayed. She looked green.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” she announced in a tight voice.

  “Huh,” said the grinner in a matter-of-fact tone, and hauled her over, pointing her away from him.

  A practical man, no panicking.

  He held her up until she was finished, then took her a few steps to the side, pointing to a patch of clean snow. She got the idea, scooped some, and used it to clean her mouth inside and out, finishing with an unexpectedly ladylike spit. He found that amusing.

  We were on a narrow paved road. It looked like a private driveway, but with no house in sight. A tall hedge blocked the view on one side, the other had widely scattered bare trees and unbroken snow. There was a country silence about the place, but we hadn’t driven far enough to be clear of New York. There are pockets of carefully hoarded land within twenty-five miles of Times Square that are as isolated as the North Pole, if greener. Barrett’s estate was a good example. This might be another.

  Swann managed Kaiser, pointing up the drive. “Stay on the pavement. There’s a break in the hedge, go right until you reach the fence. Fifty yards on the other side should be enough. We’ll meet you.”

  Kaiser trundled off with his burden. I nearly shouted Barrett’s name, hoping for a reaction.

  I had the idea that one hole would be dug for Endicott, and another for their three uninvited guests. It was easier to let me and Izzy walk to that grave than carry our bodies. Once there. . .

  On the other hand, with Kaiser elsewhere, the odds against me were trimmed down to more favorable numbers.

  The two diggers pulled the tarp and its contents from the truck and followed Kaiser. They set a good pace. The driver grabbed two shovels and two picks and went after them.

  Swann, Thorp, and the grinner remained. Thorp took charge of Izzy, keeping one arm atop her shoulders and pressing the gun muzzle into her side. She shoved her hands deep in my coat’s pockets and threw a defiant smile my way.

  “What’s this about, Swann?” I asked. “Where are we?”

  He paused, as though thinking over whether to answer or not. “We’re close to the Pelham Country Club, next to the golf course.”

  Miles past the Bronx, then. I tried to remember its place on the map, but could only recall it was somewhere near Mt. Vernon but not as far as Larchmont.

  “You’ve heard of it,” Swann said to Izzy.

  Damn. She’d kept quiet, but he was too observant for comfort.

  She shrugged, the movement comically exaggerated by my coat. “So have lots of people.”

  “But it means something to you.”

  “Mister, I don’t know what any of this is about—”

  “Please don’t embarrass yourself, Miss DeLeon, I know who you are and what paper you work for.”

  Which made no sense. He’d been set to toss her and Barrett out the window of a place where one of Brogan’s enemies had bought the farm. That was the worst thing he could do for his boss. The association would bring in all kinds of heat, especially from the press.

  “And you know who I am and who I work with,” I said, putting myself forward.

  “Indeed, Mr. Fleming. You apparently did a decent job of standing in for Northside Gordy earlier this year. That’s quite a task for a young man to take on. There were wagers made on whether you’d survive the experience, and others on whether you’d hand the reins back when the time came. Apparently you did both.”

  “It put me in solid with certain people.”

  “Of course it would.”

  “It can be arranged that you could also be put in solid with certain people.”

  “Such things are always possible.”

  “How about a truce?”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “The lady and I pretend this night never happened. We leave and don’t come back. We were never here; none of us ever met. I don’t give a tinker’s damn for what you’re doing. That guy your big gorilla carried off is nothing to me.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Someone I was told to look up when I hit town. All I wanted was a night out with Izzy, but he horned in, got us to the club, and told me I was to get him in to meet Brogan. He doesn’t say why, just to mention Long Island, machine guns, and burying something. I did my job, and then this happens.”

  Swann had a good-natured smile.

  I was getting used to him, correctly interpreting it: he didn’t believe me.

  “Mr. Fleming, I rather hoped you would respect my intelligence and speak the truth. Mr. Remke, if you would escort the young lady—”

  “All right, hold your horses,” I said. orses,ieI had to make an effort.”

  “The truth, please.”

  I gave him a short version: that Barrett and I had found a body, had ducked in time to avoid getting killed when cousin Wendell and his pal started shooting, and had tried to figure things out by checking at a newspaper where I used to work. Only one lie in the mix, I hoped Swann missed it.

  “They know it’s Endicott,” said Thorp. “He doesn’t know why we took the body.”

  What the hell. . . ?

  He shouldn’t have been able to eavesdrop on me and Izzy during the ride over. I’d kept my voice low and the truck had been noisy.

  Thorp tapped one of his boxing-scarred ears. “I don’t hear so much anymore, but I read lips good. Swanny, he thinks you could be a reasonable man.”

  “What a perceptive assessment. I am that, Mr. Fleming. You can see how reasonable it is for me to secure your silence in a reliable manner.”

  “Not so fast,” I said. “Gordy knows I’m in New York, and it will get back to him that I was in Brogan’s club. You’ve got so many men involved with this safari there’s no way it’ll stay quiet. Gordy will know who to go after should I disappear.”

  “Yes.” Swann’s smile was quite winning. “I’m counting on that sort of reaction.”

  Not the reply I wanted. “What? You want to get killed?”

  “It won’t be me. The consequences of this night’s endeavor will fall squarely on Mr. Brogan.”

  My own words to Barrett floated back to me.

  Guys like Brogan always have enemies. Sometimes you don’t have to look very far to find them.

  I’d had the idea that any mayhem we dished out to Brogan could be blamed on one of his business rivals. That his worst rival was apparently a trusted lieutenant. . .


  Crap. “You pulled together a small army on purpose, knowing word would get out?”

  “It’s only human nature,” said Swann. “So far as they know, I’m following orders from Mr. Brogan. For reasons best known to himself, he requires a body to be moved and reburied. I thought the Pendlebury would be a good spot, since it has a history linked to him, but that proved impractical.”

  “They don’t know it’s Endicott.”

  “Neither did I at first, but I made a good guess. No one knew exactly how or where Brogan disposed of the body, but Long Island has always figured strongly in the general speculation. For all I know it might not be Endicott, but circumstances favor it.”

  “And you’re gonna plant him at the Pelham Country Club golf course?”

  “No, though it would be amusing.”

  “Then what?”

  “Miss DeLeon has a clue.”

  I looked at her. “Yeah?”

  Izzy shook her head at him. “It won’t work.”

  “It will,” he said with certainty.

  “What will?” I asked.

  She jerked her chin in the direction Kaiser had gone. “Graft Endicott was a member of the country club.”

  “So?”

  “His house backs up to the golf course.”

  “So . . . ?”

  “Mrs. Endicott still lives there. They want to plant the body on her property. Sooner or later it will be found—this guy will make sure—in which case she gets the blame, not Brogan.”

  “Brogan will have his share,” said Swann.

  “I don’t see how.”

  “No.” His eyes were stone cold. That extra something with no name was there now. “I expect you never will, either. Mr. Remke, Mr. Thorp. . .”

  Thorp had never once dropped his guard, keeping his gun’s muzzle pressed against Izzy’s ribs the whole time. Remke, the grinner, took charge of me, and we followed Swann up the drive and through the break in the hedge.

  * * * * * * *

  * * * * * * *

  I had more questions, but they could wait. I had to get Izzy out of this.

  Once through the hedge we were within spitting distance of the golf course. I never played the game when I was alive and couldn’t play now, since they were closed at night. But then I wasn’t that interested in the first place, otherwise I could sneak in for a midnight round. My night vision was that good.

  We skirted the edge of the course’s snow-shrouded, manicured grounds, keeping to the rough. The dead grass was a tangled, unmowed mess, the trees and bushes grew untended. Footprints would be hard to find in the slime of old leaves and frozen slush. The men who’d preceded us had kept clear of the unblemished snow.

  Swann was far enough ahead, carefully picking his way along, and Thorp couldn’t see my lips. I pitched my voice low so only Remke could hear. “How much will it take?”

  “What?” He shot me an appropriately skeptical glance.

  “To get me out of here. How much?”

  “You don’t have that kind of cabbage.”

  “The hell I don’t. Look at my suit—it’s worth more than you made in the last month.”

  “I make plenty, brother.”

  “You can make plenty more. Real money, not just Swann’s handouts.”

  “Big talker. What’s your idea of real money?”

  He wasn’t about to be hooked, just curious. Any figure I gave would be too much or too little. A desperate man makes mistakes. A business man makes a deal.

  “Look at my suit.”

  “Already did, bo’.”

  “Look again. I didn’t get this at Macy’s. Same for the coat. You felt it when you were holding onto the girl. It’s vicuna. You know about that stuff?”

  “Maybe.”

  “The only people who can get it are movie stars and guys like me. Look at my shoes.”

  “It’s too dark.”

  “Too bad. They’re handmade. Works of art from Marnucci and Sons of New York. You heard of them?”

  He gave no reply but it was clear that he had. “So what?”

  “So think about this: if I spend that much money on clothes, how much do you think I’ll spend to save my life?”

  He mulled that one over. I wanted to give him more time to convince himself, but there was a fence coming up, and fifty yards beyond that Kaiser and the two diggers would be waiting. Remke wouldn’t do anything with them around.

  “You like working for Swann?”

  “It’s work, ‘like’ don’t come into it.”

  “Only ’cause to him you’re just another mug. You heard the stories about me and Northside Gordy and what happened the other month with—”

  “That’s Chicago. I don’t care what goes on there.”

  “Then you heard. You know how it turned out. You know I’m stand-up. I make a promise, I keep it, come hell or high water. How many guys do you know like that?”

  “A few.”

  “Which of them can put you in a vicuna coat?”

  “I’ll take yours when the dame’s done with it.”

  “Which of them can put you in a vicuna coat with enough cash in the pockets to choke a horse?”

  He made a noise low in his throat. It might have been a short laugh.

  “I promise you, get me out of this and you get all that and the cash to choke two horses. You will be my new best friend.”

  “I couldn’t pull it off.”

  “Yes, you can. I’ll see to it you’re Northside Gordy’s new best friend. He’s a man who values friendship. If I say you’re in, you’re in.”

  “What if I don’t want to be in?”

  “That’s up to you. You can retire to Cuba if you want. Let them kill me and all you get is a muddy, secondhand coat.”

  “What about the dame?”

  “Skirts are a dime a dozen, but I wouldn’t say a word if you wanted to have some fun with her. If you swap places with Thorp—”

  “What, so you can give him the same offer?”

  “I’d have to yell it in his ear, and Swann’s sure to notice. Thorp doesn’t care about my money, he just wants to kill me.”

  Remke did more thinking, the fence getting closer with every step.

  “I’llsweeten the pot,” I said. “Swann’s looking to take over Brogan’s spot, right?”

  “That’s the rumor.”

  “What’s he promised you for your help? Money?”

  “There’s that.”

  “Probably not nearly enough for the risk. What about protection when it goes wrong?”

  “It won’t go wrong.”

  “Says, who? Swann? What is he, a jumped up bookkeeper?”

  “He’s smart.”

  “But he’s not Fleish Brogan. And he’s not me.”

  Swann reached the fence and was having difficulty getting over it.

  “Jeeze. . .look at him.”

  Swann made a hash of scrambling over. On the other side he inspected his gloved hands for dirt before brushing down his clothes. By themselves the actions were nothing, but Remke saw them in a different light than he would have a few minutes ago.

  “He may be smart, but who can respect him?” I asked.

  A funny thing, respect. You have it or you don’t. Some kill for it. Others die for it. It is greatly desired by those in the rackets. Without it you are nothing.

  “A boss named Swanny? You gotta be kidding me.”

  Remke gave a little head shake. “I know, but we can’t do it.”

  He said we. Progress.

  “Sure we can. You don’t have to do anything. It’s all on me. If it goes south, you still get the dame and the coat.”

  “What is it I don’t do?”

  “Stall when we get to the fence. I can’t climb with my hands tied. Have Thorp help get me over. Switch places. You take the girl, and he watches me.”

  “I take the girl?”

  “A bonus for you right here and now.” I was scaring myself with how convincing I sounded. It was sickening, but
Izzy had a better chance with Remke than Thorp.

  “Swann won’t go for that.”