"They don't – believe me," I told her.
"Did you get anything else out of him?" Karl asked.
"Just a couple of things," Lacey said. "One is that they've been using Drac's List to identify likely victims."
"Damn, I knew there was something wrong about those people," I said, ignoring the look that Karl gave me.
"Once they have a profile that looks promising," Lacey said, "someone pretending to be a vampire member will contact him – or her – and start an online conversation. The so-called vampire will find out if he lives alone, has any close friends or relatives, all that stuff. Once they identify somebody who won't be missed for a while, the 'vampire' makes a date – except the poor guy, or woman – gets a lot worse than a vampire bite."
"You mentioned a couple of things," Karl said. "What's the other one?"
"Just that, to the surprise of nobody here in this room, the Church owns the People's Voice," Lacey said. "The connection is hidden by a series of holding companies, but the Church is pulling the strings."
"I asked the Feebies to have someone look into the paper and who was behind it. They never got back to me, which isn't exactly surprising." I looked at Lacey. "Congrats, kiddo – you did a hell of a job."
I ran a hand through my hair. "The only other pressing problem is what to do with Rambo down there until we raid the warehouse the night after tomorrow."
"We could just leave him there," Lacey said. The monster was back in her eyes now. "I can come back in a week or so and bury him."
"That's not exactly what I had in mind, Lace," I said. "There's got to be another way to keep him on ice until–"
"I think I've got an idea," Karl said, and we both turned toward him.
"The county sheriff's an old fishing buddy of my Uncle Ned," he said. "Name's Andy Probert. I used to do a lot of fishing up here myself, and I've known the guy for years. I bet if I ask him, he'll put our commando in a cell for a few days under a John Doe – which is maybe the only name we'll get out of the guy, anyway."
"Hold him on what charge?" I asked.
"Doesn't have to be a charge, does it?" Karl said. "We'll call it 'protective custody'. Sheriff Probert won't ask too many questions."
"That sounds like exactly what we need," I said. "You wanna give the sheriff a call and see if you can set it up?"
"Absolutely," Karl said.
Ten minutes later, the three of us went back to the basement. Our prisoner, who was still tied as before, started when we walked in, but seemed kind of relieved that Lacey wasn't alone this time.
He looked at us dully. His face was streaked with drying tears, and there was a half-absorbed puddle in the dirt underneath him. I assumed that Lacey had so terrified him at some point that he had pissed himself.
"All right," I told him. "In a minute, I'm going to start cutting you free from there. When I finish, I want you to get dressed. Understand?"
"Yeah."
"Once you're loose, you don't want to even think about going all Bruce Lee on me. If you do, my vampire partner over there will tear your throat out. He hasn't fed in a couple of nights, and he was telling me earlier that he thinks you look tasty."
Karl smiled, giving the guy a good look at his fangs. "Tasty," he said.
"Yeah, OK, sure," the commando muttered.
When the prisoner was cut down and dressed, Karl handcuffed his hands behind his back and led him out to Lacey's car. She was going to drive them to the Pike County jail, where the sheriff would be waiting to make sure that prisoner John Doe was processed the way we wanted. Guess Karl and I should have taken separate cars, after all – we hadn't thought far enough ahead. I wanted to get back to Scranton as soon as possible, to brief McGuire on what I'd learned tonight.
Lacey started to follow Karl and his prisoner out, but stopped and turned back to me.
"I wanted to thank you," she said, "for leaving before I was completely naked."
"It seemed… I dunno… wrong to stick around."
"I wouldn't have said anything if you and Karl had stayed, but I'm glad you didn't. So – thank you, Stan."
"You're welcome, Lacey." What else was I going to say?
After nearly getting murdered in the police parking lot a couple of times, Karl and I had bugged McGuire to see about getting better lights for the place. He'd impressed upon the chief the importance of what we wanted, and he, in turn, had gone to the mayor. To the surprise of practically everybody, the city council had approved the funds, and our parking lot behind the building was now lit up like a football field during a night game.
The downside of all that illumination is that it makes you a well-lit target for somebody looking at the parking area from outside.
That's why when a deep voice from across the street yelled, "Hey! Markowski!" I scuttled behind my car, dropped into a crouch, and drew my weapon. I heard a car door open, and peered through the chain-link fence that encloses the parking lot.
Ivan the ogre was slowly climbing out from behind the wheel of a big SUV. "Markowski," he called, "I got a goblin!" He made a summoning gesture. "Come on!"
I was torn. I needed to tell McGuire what I'd learned about the next snuff film – but he'd be in his office for another couple of hours. If Ivan had found a goblin willing to talk about who had sent the hit squad of greenies after me, then that was a goblin I badly wanted to meet.
I yelled over to Ivan, "I'll be right there!" Having him bring an unauthorized vehicle into our parking area would require all kinds of time-wasting paperwork. It was quicker for me to go out to him. I stood up and walked rapidly toward the gate.
Ivan was back behind the wheel and as I approached he said, "Get in back, Markowski."
There was a goblin in the front passenger seat. Like all of them, he was short, with matted green fur over black skin. In the close confines of the SUV, I noticed that he smelled like wet dog – a big, old wet dog with bad teeth. The goblin was half turned in his seat, looking back at me nervously.
"This Fred," Ivan rumbled. "Only goblin I could get to come here. Has no English, so I translate."