I backed away, hauling Diana’s body out of the grate. Penny fell back, making shocked noises as I laid Diana out on the carpet. Exposure to heat and smoke had seriously distorted the skin, but it was still Diana. I recognized the clothes and the perfume. I sat on the floor beside the body.
Penny crouched down beside me. ‘Ishmael; let me see your hands.’
‘They’re fine.’
‘They can’t be; you just pulled a fire apart. Let me see how badly you’re burned.’
‘They’re fine!’ I showed her my hands. They were flushed red, but not burnt.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Penny.
‘Concentrate on what’s important,’ I said. ‘Diana’s dead.’
Penny looked at me dubiously, and then gave her attention to the body. ‘It’s just like the old Edgar Allan Poe story,’ she said. ‘The Murders in the Rue Morgue! But in that story the killer turned out to be an orang-utan. No. I can’t believe that … Are you sure that’s Diana? I mean, the face is …’
‘It’s her,’ I said. ‘I know her. Her clothes, her perfume, her body. I know everything about her.’
I gathered Diana up in my arms and held her close, rocking her back and forth, like a parent with a sleeping child. I didn’t cry, but there must have been something in my face, because Penny knelt in close beside me. She didn’t try to touch me, didn’t say anything; just stayed with me, giving me what comfort she could with her presence. Diana felt light, almost weightless in my arms, as though everything that mattered of her was gone.
‘You should have seen her dance, Penny,’ I said finally. ‘When she was young and talented and so full of life. Featured dancer at the Crazy Horse, in Paris. When she moved on that stage … she was a wonder to behold.’
‘What?’ said Penny. ‘I’m sorry, Ishmael; I don’t understand.’
‘She didn’t deserve to die like this,’ I said.
‘Neither did Roger, or James,’ said Penny.
I stood up, still carrying the body effortlessly in my arms, and moved across the room to lay Diana out respectfully on the bed. I crossed her hands on her chest. Mercifully, her eyes were shut.
Penny hovered beside me. ‘Why did the murderer do this?’ she said. ‘Why kill poor old defenceless Diana? She didn’t have any money, or … And why is the killer doing these awful things to the bodies?’
‘So many questions,’ I said. ‘Why didn’t Sylvia notice Diana was missing?’
‘I suppose … all she could think of was Roger and the terrible thing that had been done to him,’ said Penny.
‘Could Diana have been killed after Sylvia left the room?’ I said slowly. ‘Could Diana have been murdered here, while we were all distracted with Roger?’ I looked at Penny. ‘Did you notice anyone missing from the group, at any time?’
‘No,’ said Penny. ‘I was totally focused on what had been done to Roger. Anyone could have come and gone …’
‘Same here,’ I said. ‘And again, look around the room. No sign of any struggle. No overturned furniture; not even any scuff marks on the carpet. As though the murderer just … killed Diana, and then stuffed her straight up the chimney. All in a few moments …’
‘But why put her up there?’ said Penny, almost desperately. ‘Why stoke up the fire afterwards? Why saw off James’ head and set Roger on fire? Why do all this, after they were already dead!’
‘Assuming there is a reason,’ I said, slowly. ‘Not just some psychotic, sending a message that only makes sense to them … Why did the killer need to go to such lengths with the bodies? All of them hidden, disfigured … Yes! That’s it! All the bodies were damaged, disfigured, to hide some specific injury to the bodies! Snow, fire, heat and smoke … To hide the true method of murder! I’ve smelt the same thing at all three bodies, Penny: blood. But there’s never been a trace of spilled blood, anywhere near the bodies. So where did all the blood go?’
I leaned over the bed and examined Diana’s body up close. It took a while, but finally I found what I was looking for. Teeth marks, on her throat. Right over the main veins. And not just pin pricks, or a pair of puncture marks: a full set of human-sized teeth, sunk deep into the meat. Heat and smoke damage would have disguised and hidden the marks from a cursory examination. And after two or three days stuck up that chimney, you’d have needed a full autopsy to uncover the wounds. I straightened up and stood a while, thinking. Penny looked at me anxiously.
‘What do all three bodies have in common?’ I said finally. ‘Marks of violence, but no blood spilled. Because there was no blood left to spill …’
I turned and ran out of Diana’s room, all the way back down the corridor. Penny sprinted after me, trying to keep up. I didn’t stop to unlock Roger’s door, just kicked it off its hinges and burst in. I leant over the chair and pushed the burned head back to expose the neck, ignoring the loud cracking from the bones. Now I knew what to look for I soon found teeth marks, disguised by the burns. I pointed them out to Penny, but she didn’t want to get that close.
‘All right!’ she said, just a bit breathlessly. ‘I’ll take your word for it. Teeth marks on the necks. The killer bit them. What for; to leave his mark?’
‘Not as such,’ I said.
I let go of Roger’s head and stepped back from the body. I looked at Penny for a long moment, and then drew the slender dagger I keep in a sheath on my left forearm, hidden up my sleeve.
‘I thought you said you don’t like weapons?’ said Penny.
‘I don’t,’ I said. ‘But they can be useful, sometimes.’
I knelt down and made a long incision in Roger’s left wrist, where it rested on the arm of the chair. The razor-sharp edge sliced easily through the charred flesh, severing the main veins, but not a drop of blood fell out.
‘This body has been drained of blood,’ I said to Penny. ‘So was Diana. And the Colonel was beheaded not to kill him or hamper identification, but to preoccupy people. So they wouldn’t realize the whole point of beheading was to damage the neck so much that teeth marks wouldn’t show. The killer was still expecting to get away, then. He had time to mess with the body and move it outside into the grounds, and then hide it in the snowman; he didn’t expect the body to be found until the thaw, by which time he’d be long gone. He didn’t know a storm was coming to trap him here. He’s having to improvise now to hide his feeding.’
I stood up, still holding the dagger, and looked steadily at Penny. ‘I’m sorry. There’s no easy way to break this to you. Our killer isn’t human. We’re dealing with a vampire.’
Penny looked at me for a long moment, torn between shock and nervous laughter. ‘What? Are you serious? You really expect me to believe that, Ishmael? That’s your great deduction? We’re being picked off by Count Dracula? No. No! I’ve gone this far with you, but now you’ve jumped right over the edge. I want an explanation. Right now. About you, Ishmael. Who are you; really? Just what kind of work did you do, for your Colonel?’
‘I hunt monsters,’ I said. ‘Because I don’t want to be one.’
I explained, as best I could. About the star that fell from the heavens, in 1963. About the transformation machines, and being made human. About working for the Organization. Penny’s eyes grew wide, but she never said a word.
‘I am human,’ I said finally. ‘In every way that matters. It’s just that I was made, not born. I’m stronger, faster, than most people. My senses are sharper. I see and hear things that most people miss.’
‘You honestly expect me to believe this … bullshit?’ said Penny. ‘How can I believe something like this?’
‘Because it’s true,’ I said. ‘And you know you can trust me.’
‘That was when I thought you were a sane person!’
‘They say seeing is believing,’ I said.
‘You’re crazy,’ said Penny. ‘I’m sorry, Ishmael, but you’re crazy! You have to be.’
‘I did consider that option quite seriously, for some time,’ I said. ‘Until I had an accident.’