Bob shut the door, locking them in. “What do you think?”
“Nice rack on her.”
“I’d love to hear them try to explain this. ‘Vampires hypnotized us,’” Bob whined satirically, “‘made us play with each other and locked us inside.’”
We walked out of the alley and back toward his Buick.
“Don’t take this wrong,” Bob said, “but you stink even worse than before.”
“I don’t care what I smell like, as long as I have this.” I showed him the diary.
Bob examined it. Sections of wet pages disintegrated at his touch.
“Hey, careful.” I took the diary back and smoothed the pages to see if the writing remained legible.
We reached his car and climbed in.
“What’s that diary prove?” Bob asked. He started the Buick and drove away from the curb.
“That Wong knew what had caused the nymphomania, and that he helped cover it up.”
“What caused it?”
“He said red mercury and EBEs.”
“Which are?”
“Red mercury, I assume, is a material used at Rocky Flats for making nuclear weapons. I’ve never heard of it before.”
“And EBEs?”
“I’m going to let Gilbert Odin explain that.”
Bob’s aura flashed. He tapped the brakes. The car lurched. “What’s to explain? The investigation’s over. Give your friend the diary, collect your fee, and disappear. Case closed.”
“I’ve got to tell him about the people who killed Dr. Wong.”
Bob resumed normal speed. “Are you crazy? You’re going to tell your friend, a federal employee, that vampire hunters are on your trail?”
“Of course not. But they did murder Wong, so why not let the police catch them? And if they capture the vânätori, think the police will believe their story that they killed Dr. Wong by mistake when they were aiming for a vampire?”
“So what the hell were we doing back there, ditching those cops? I thought you wanted to stay clear of that.”
“I needed to get the diary first. Let me tell Gilbert about the murder when I see him.” I caressed the damp cover of the diary. Instead of drawing assurances that my investigation into the nymphomania was definitely closed, I felt a twinge of doubt. My fingertips tingled to alert me of danger. But of what? And from whom?
“I’m not so sure this investigation is over,” I added. “There’s more to the conspiracy than what’s in this diary.”
Bob pulled the Buick to the curb and jammed the transmission into park. He turned to me. His tapetum lucidum glowed hot in the reflection of the street lamps. “And so what? That book explains the outbreak, and that’s all that you were hired to do. Our priority now is the vânätori. I’ll inform the Araneum and call for a council of the nidus. You’ll testify about what you know.”
“Not yet, Bob.”
“Your investigation is over.”
“Sorry. This investigation is far from over.” I held quivering fingertips before him. “I can feel it. You and I, all the vampires in Denver, are in greater danger than ever because of this. Something’s been set in motion, and the more we try to ignore it, the worse it will get for everyone.”
CHAPTER 19
LIKE THE LAST TIME when I’d seen him in his office, Gilbert Odin put his telephone inside the credenza behind him, along with a boom box playing heavy metal turned up full volume. He closed the credenza door, muffling the screaming of guitars and the hammering of drums.
Gilbert folded his hands on his desk and gave me a genial smile. “It’s safe to talk now.”
“Couldn’t there be any more bugs? In that, for example?” I pointed to the lamp on his desk.
“Oh no. I know exactly what listening devices Security has. I’m on their budget-approval committee. A Seven-Sigma telephone eavesdropping microphone is all they’re authorized to use on me.”
I suppose the logic made sense to a professional bureaucrat, but it gave me a headache. I pinched the bridge of my nose to ease the pressure.
“How’s the investigation going, Felix?”
The investigation. That word alone worsened the headache. When I handed Wong’s diary over to Gilbert, I wanted him to kiss me in gratitude, then write a check and send me on my way.
“Well, Gilbert, for starters, Dr. Wong is dead.”
“We all know that.” Gilbert tapped the newspaper on his desk. Page one of the Metro Section showed a picture of the doctor under the headline ROCKY FLATS NUCLEAR SCIENTIST MURDERED. Gilbert added, “The police say it was a botched robbery.”
The cabbage smell swirled from him, not as strong as before but enough to make me think he needed to vary his diet.
“It was no robbery,” I said. “I know who killed him.”
“Who? Terrorists?”
“No. Enemies of mine.”
Gilbert held a hand up. “Whoa. Back up. What enemies?”
I couldn’t tell him the truth, that they were vampire hunters. “Enemies with a vendetta from a previous assignment. Wong got shot by mistake.”
“A vendetta?” Gilbert asked. “The Mafia’s after you?”
“No,” I answered. “I have enough enemies, thank you.”
Enemies savvy enough to ambush me. I had the mysterious gunman and the vânätori after me, a lethal double threat. Suddenly I realized that Wong had been shot only moments after I arrived at his condo. How did the vampire-hunter marksman set up his rifle so soon? Unless he had the place staked out. Which meant he, and his companions, knew I was going to see Dr. Wong. But only I knew about the visit. A chill ran up my spine and out to my hands. My fingertips tingled as my vampire senses went on alert.
“Hey. Hey,” Gilbert snapped his fingers. “You okay?”
I rubbed my hands together to calm the tingling. I wished I didn’t have to hide my eyes behind contacts-I needed the reassuring ability to read auras, even my friend Gilbert’s.
“I’m all right,” I answered.
“I thought you were having a seizure.” He gestured to my face. “Something related to that Gulf War Syndrome of yours.”
“I appreciate the concern. The question now is, what should I tell the investigators?”
“About what?”
“What I know about Wong’s murder.”
“Let the police worry about it. You said it wasn’t terrorists, so there’s no threat to Rocky Flats.”
“Only a threat to me,” I replied.
“And you can’t handle it?” His question was a dare. “You said that it was enemies from a previous case. Should I be concerned?”
“No. It’s my problem.” I didn’t want the cops to find the vânätori until after the nidus had torn the vampire hunters to pieces. “You don’t want anyone to know that I’ve been talking to Dr. Wong, correct?”
Gilbert nodded. “That’s right. Keep this between you and me.”
“You’re saying this investigation into the nymphomania is more important than Wong’s murder?”
Gilbert focused his gaze into my eyes. “Yes. Even more important than Wong’s murder.”
Or mine for that matter. What kind of a conspiracy was this? “Why?”
Gilbert shook his head. “Because if you go blabbing that you were with Dr. Wong when he got killed, then you’re likely to be locked up as a person of interest and forgotten. The wall of security around the conspiracy will only grow more formidable and I’ll be SOL forever.”
People with guns had already tried to stop me, so I appreciated Gilbert’s well-grounded concerns.
I pulled out a Ziploc bag containing Wong’s diary. “The doctor didn’t have the chance to tell me much. He did mention”-I paused to gauge Gilbert’s reaction-“red mercury.”