Blood Lines

hands. You don't work for him anymore. Find that mummy."
    She recognized the obsession in his voice. She'd heard it there before and as often in her own. Obsession made a good cop. It had also broken a few. "All right. I'll find it."
    'Keep me informed every step of the way."
    'I will."
    'Be careful."
    She saw again the melted remains of Trembley's car. "You, too."
    Hanging up the phone, she frowned, remembering. I've looked at the reports and I've had a talk with the Chief . "Now why," she asked of the empty apartment, "would Inspector Cantree have talked to the Chief about a departmental matter?"
    Chapter Seven
    '… no one is available to take your call at this moment. If you leave a message after the tone, I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Please don't assume I can remember where I put your phone number."
    'Henry? Vicki. I want to check out that workroom tonight. The Department of Egyptology is on the fifth floor at the south end of the museum; meet me there as soon as you can." She thought for a second, then added, "There'll be a single guard on the desk. I assume you can get in without any trouble." Brow furrowed, Vicki put down the receiver.
    As it was still a couple of hours to sunset, she hadn't actually expected to speak to Henry, but she suddenly doubted the wisdom of putting that message on the machine.
    'You're being ridiculous," she sneered at herself. "The odds of Celluci's alleged mummy randomly tapping phone lines or gaining access to Henry's answering machine are about as likely as…" She sighed and redialed Henry's number. "…
    as it existing at all."
    'Henry? Vicki. Erase this tape once you've listened to it."
    'I'm probably just being paranoid," she told a piece of cold pizza a moment later, picking a slice of salami off the congealed cheese. But as four people were already dead and they had no idea of the enemy's strength or its capabilities, she had no intention of being body number five or setting Henry up as number six.
    It took less than fifteen minutes to walk to the Royal Ontario Museum from Vicki's apartment, but by the time she ducked down the alley between the McLaughlin Planetarium and the museum's main building, she was wishing she'd taken a cab. Everything below the angle of the umbrella had gotten soaked and the wind had blown cold rain up into her face at every opportunity.
    'I hate October," she muttered, using the narrow band of shelter under the second floor walkway to shake some of the excess water off the bottom of her trench coat. As she straightened, a cold dribble ran off her chin, down the inside of her collar, along the side of her neck, and into the hollow of her collarbone where it finally surrendered and was soaked up by her shirt.'
    'On second thought, I can live with October, I hate rain ."

    At the staff entrance, she paused and peered through the outer set of glass doors. The only way to the inner set, and then into the museum, passed by a manned security station. A large sign instructed staff that security badges must be worn at all times and that visitors must check in at the desk.
    Vicki smiled, peeled off her leather gloves and stuffed them in her pockets, then opened the door.
    'Hello." She extended her smile to include the guard and he willingly returned it. Her clothing said, respectable and her attitude said, nice person-just the sort security guards preferred to deal with. "My name's Celluci. I'm here to see Dr.
    Rachel Shane in Egyptology." She figured it was the one name guaranteed to get her upstairs and if the guard recognized it, she'd merely use the same story she planned on giving Dr. Shane.
    'Is Dr. Shane expecting you?"
    'Not at this precise moment, no."
    'I'll have to call up."
    'Oh, yes, of course."
    A moment later she was in the elevator, a small pink badge pinned to her trench coat with Celluci and the number forty-two written on it. To her surprise, an attractive dark-haired woman met the elevator on the fifth floor.
    'Mike. Is it…" she began, stepping forward as the doors opened. Then she stopped, flushed, and stepped back as Vicki moved out into the hall. "I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else."
    'Detective-Sergeant Celluci?" Vicki guessed. She had a pretty good idea of who this must be from Celluci's description, but she wondered just how much, exactly, the detective in question hadn't told her about the good doctor.
    Why would she be coming to meet him at the elevator?
    'That's right, but…"
    'You must be Dr.