Drew D'Amato:Bloodlines:02 (31 page)

“You look scared shitless because you know exactly who this might be,” Cordy said.

“If you’re not involved at all, then how come they used your address?” Lindell asked.  “We can protect you, Mr. Patrick.”

“I don’t know anything.  Maybe my address came up because that is just the way this fake ID was made.  They took a real licence—mine—with address and all and then just photoshopped their picture on it.”

Cordy and Lindell both nodded that this was possible, but they didn’t believe it was that simple.  They didn’t trust Patrick.

“They still chose you out of the millions of Californians to choose from.” Lindell said.

Patrick decided to pull an ace.

“Look detectives I am a member of the press, do you really want to drill me on something I am innocent and ignorant of.  Do you really want another scathing article about the treatment of the Los Angeles Police Department toward their tax-paying citizens?  This is a dumb coincidence, that’s all.  I don’t think you want this to go any further and require me to involve a lawyer to maintain my right to protect my sources?”

Lindell and Cordy looked at each other.  They were both men who knew how to play politics.  That was how they both got their gold shield earlier than the normal age.  Pursuing down this road would lead to a chastising from the mayor and the police commissioner.  This case was not meant to be solved, this riddle not meant to be answered.  Cordy nodded in approval to Lindell.

“You’re free to go,” Lindell said, and Patrick walked out of the room.

“Fuck this Raoul,” Cordy said.  “What do you want to do?”

“Nothing, whatever happened, happened.  But if these men are still alive they are not going to stick around.  I’m willing to bet my shield they have left our fine city.  That was why Raoul was in a rush to get to Europe when we met him.  Let’s keep our heads in the sand and move onto the next case.  I have a feeling this case has forces we can’t possible bring down, but crushing us would be nothing to them.”

“I got a kid going to college in three years.  I don’t need to ruin my career over this.  Something is dirty—”

“Yes it is.”

“—but I ain’t sticking my hands in it.”

“Partner, I agree.”

And the two of them never thought any more about these missing strange men and silver bullets.  They would go on to bigger promotions and afford the college bill for their kids.  A nice life on the force, but this would be a case they would never figure out.  It teased their mind like a cat to a mouse, but they would try to forget about it, and vowed to never bring the case up again to each other.

7

P
atrick also made a vow as he left the police station.  Raoul sent him a warning—these men were untouchable and their reach was everywhere.  He wanted Patrick to know to keep his mouth shut, the big boys were playing, and Patrick took the hint.  He vowed he would never press Raoul for another story.  He did never speak to Raoul again—it still did not convince him that Raoul was dead—but that pledge never got to be tested.  He also pledged for his safety and that of his family that he would not report on another story involving silver bullets.  Not even when they were discovered days later in New York.

EL
EVE
N

1

V
lad told Malachi everything that happened in Europe as they drove the rental car back to their home in Malibu.  They wouldn’t be able to stay at that house for long.  This house was under Wellington’s name.  That would now just get tied up with the state, and Vlad would have to let it.  Malachi’s house was gone, again a victim of the state.  They had no houses to go to.  Vlad had lost half his funds.  With the Joseph Patrick ID now drawing red flags, he was down to just three ID’s and only one of them was substantial.  Malachi had no ID’s.  Malachi couldn’t even get on a plane.  Vlad was able to rent a Honda Accord with a disposable ID from a place right next to the hospital.  They had no direction, but they were getting out of dodge by sundown.

“We have to call Morris, what if we have to go back to Europe?” Malachi asked.

“We can’t risk alerting Radu.  Who knows how much Michael had told him?  He might have an eye on the men we use.  Besides, Morris will take a few days.  Right now we have to get back to the house and get what we need.  I have a feeling those two cops may want to have a look around.”

“Can they do that?  I mean, just search the house of a dead man?  I think they would need a warrant.”

“It doesn’t matter what they need if they see me.  A man faking his death is probable cause.  We take everything we need, and we get out.”

“And go where?”

Vlad had no answer.  He had no idea where Radu was.

“We have to get to him quick,” Malachi continued.  “He is going to learn I escaped from the hospital soon enough.”

Vlad hadn’t thought of that.  It seemed no matter what he accomplished, it still always got harder. 
Was he already too late?
 
Had Radu already started his conquest?

“I feel stronger though, quicker,” Malachi said and that cleared Vlad’s mind for a second.

“Yes, I think it has something to do with me willingly drinking the blood this time that makes it more powerful, even though the powers are the same.”

“Well that’s a good thing.  We need all the advantages we can get.”

2

T
hey surveyed the scene before they parked in the driveway.  There were no detectives in their obvious towncars or vans scoping out the place.  It looked like it was clear, but they still wanted to move quickly.  They got into the house, Vlad ordered Malachi to round up
every
weapon.  Vlad went upstairs to his new office to gather his unique paperwork.  Bank accounts with other names, all the cash he had in the safe, and the records to his last substantial ID.

When he had it all stored in his suitcase, he took a look at his sword from Hunyadi that rested along the top of his desk, still without a place to put it.  He had to take this with him.  It was too rare to lay around, and it was also a weapon.  The blade was made out of pure silver.

The pair met back in the parlor.  Malachi came up from downstairs, Vlad from upstairs.  Malachi had two large dufflebags over both his shoulders loaded with all the weapons and ammo.  Vlad had the suitcase in his left hand, and the sword in his right. 

“You can’t let go of that thing, can you?” Malachi said looking at the sword.

“We might need it.”

“Where are we going to go now?”

“Vegas, the perfect place to disappear.”

“Yeah, disappear.  Especially on all those surviellance cameras they have in the casinos.  We can’t go there.”

“We’ll stay at a Motel 6 without a casino.  We have to get out of the state.”

Then Vlad’s phone rang.  He checked the number.  It was that 212 number again.  “This is Radu,” he said to Malachi before he answered and he could see Malachi tighten up.

“Brother, you’re up early.”

“I love the winter months, night comes early.  I heard what happened to Malachi, or should I say George Patterson, the man admitted to Cedars-Sinai following an attack at the Staples Center.  He had severe injuries, even kidney failure, but yet he managed to disappear right out of his room.  The hospital has no explanation.”

Damn the information age.

“Well how much longer could a man like Malachi stay at a hospital before they found out all of his information was fraudulent?”

“I would expect a
man
like Malachi to stay at the hospital as long as he is not physically able to leave.  Not get up and leave when he is on the brink of death.”

“I helped him, of course.”

“Really, you got into the hospital, scooped him out and then disappeared without a trace.  Did you bring all of the machines he needs too?”

“I did it the same way everything gets done in this world, with money.  Of course they are going to act like they have no idea.  I paid off some orderlies and I even got a ride via an ambulance.  He’s home in bed on the brink of death, but does not have to answer to who George Patterson is.  Your use of silver bullets attracted the wrong kind of attention.”

He had thought of that lie while on his ride back from the hospital.  It was a long shot for Radu to believe completely, he had to suspect something by now, but at least Vlad had some answer to give him.

“Well aren’t you just the Nurse Nightengale.  You going to heal him back to health?”

“There is a doctor here working for cash.  He should make a full recovery, thanks for your concern.”

“You are my only concern.  Concern that you are not bullshitting me.”

“I am on the run.  Cops came to my house to ask me if I had any enemies.  The heat is on.  I’m not even in the same house.  Check that out, I’m sure Michael gave you that information.  You’ll find it empty.  I told you, you will never hear from me again, but if you have a tough time letting me go, I am touched.”

“Fuck you, Vlad.  If I ever do see you again, it will be to kill you.”

“Ditto.”

Vlad hung up and looked down at the phone. 

“Do you think he believed you?’ Malachi asked.

“I think he believed enough not to act on it.  He has been calling me from this 212 number.  I can’t figure it out.”

“Did you trace it?”

“How do you do that?”

“Jesus Vlad, you ever going to enter the 21
st
century?”

“Which one is that?  I’ve lived through seven and still get them confused.”

Malachi gave him a smirk and then took out his BlackBerry.  He got online, Googled “reverse phone number look up” and found
a
nywho.com
, a website that offered this service.

“What’s the full number?” Malachi asked.

“2-1-2…5-8-5…7-1…7-2”

Malachi typed it in and was shocked when he saw the result.  He paid attention not to the name, but the address:
2 Platt Street, New York, NY 10038.

“That’s Richard’s place,” Vlad recognized.

“Yes, but why would he be there?”

“
He wants to infect
the world and he would want to do that by starting at the top.
T
he most powerful ones first and then trickle down.  He also doesn’t want to start with just one country, because that will lead to a war with other countries. 
So he wants to
infect leaders from nations all over the world.  Wh
at better place to start than the
United Natio
ns?  He will infec
t the diplomats, and those diplomats will move up the ladd
er, infecting more important people who care more about having power than the people who gave them their power.  They will conspire together and the curse will spread.  That is why he has been waiting.  The General Assembly meets from September to December.  He probably wants to infect them right before they go back to their home country—which is in two weeks.
”

“So we got some time to drive there, because I don’t have any ID to fly to New York.  I’d rather drive anyway and be able to transport all these weapons.”

“Yes, let’s get going.” 

Vlad started to move toward the door when Malachi stopped him.

“Wait, maybe it’s a trap.  That’s why he didn’t block his number.  He wants you to come there.”

“It may be, or maybe there’s
a part of him that would
still
like me to join him. 
He probably thought I had Richard’s number stored in my phone, but we don’t in case any Raduson ever got a hold of our phones.”

“Vlad, I think he knows you’ll never join him.  And I don’t think he really cares now if you do or not.  This is some kind of trap.”

“He doesn’t need to trap us.  If he wants to kill me, he would just find me and do it.  He’s probably doing this just to be a bastard.  He gets
a
kick out of me knowing that
he
now
lives in a house of one of my dead children. 
Whatever his reasons, he is there, and we have to go there.”

“But he hasn’t invited us, and this isn’t a trap.  If we go there, won’t we still be powerless humans?  That would make every sacrifice you made worthless?”

Vlad turned his head to think.  His last attack on Radu could not be as a human.  He gave up everything to defeat him as a vampire, he won’t risk facing him now as only a human.  It wasn’t pride or principle; it was practicality.  They couldn’t destroy him as just men. 

“Ahh but, Radu doesn’t own the apartment.  It’s not his home to not invite someone in,” Vlad said.

“Richard owns it?”

“Even better, I do.”

Malachi was confused.

“What name came up when you did that reverse search?” Vlad asked.

“Sean Chamberlain the fourth.”

Vlad took the ID for Sean Chamberlain IV out of his wallet and showed it to Malachi with a smile.  “It’s my last substantial ID.”

Malachi’s eyes dawned with enlightenment.  “But you didn’t own my house.”

“I usually don’t own any of my head’s houses, but Richard’s was different.  First off we bought it before we met Richard, at the turn of the century in 1903 when the new larger Stock Exchange opened up, to do our business out of.  Then we met Richard—one of the best traders out there—and he became a head and lived there.  When the market crashed, it was also time to re-up my identities, and sell the place to someone else.  I was going to sell it to Richard, but he, the financial wizard, cautioned against it.  He said this building was too important, with its location in Manhattan and the firms that operated out of it.  There was too much money at stake.  The people who did business out of a building like this would not like the idea of it being sold to some random stranger, and especially during the Depression.  So I created an ID for Sean Chamberlain II, the son of the owner, who bought the building from his father.  In 1967 when Sean Chamberlain III purchased the building and the land from his pops he had the building destroyed and rebuilt the 45-story skyscraper that is there now.  Sean Chamberlain IV took it over at the end of the millennium.  This is how I managed to keep this building for over a hundred years.  This is why it is
my
skyscraper.  And I openly invite myself to my own place.”