Blood Price

Vicki had been deliberately not thinking about trying to find an unnamed source in the rabbit warren of apartments and town-houses around St. Dennis Drive, talking to "this person" was the next logical step. She reassured Coreen, promised to call the moment she had any results, and hung up.

    "Like looking for a needle in a haystack." But it had to be done; a witness could break the case wide open.

    She finished her coffee and checked her watch. There was one thing she wanted to check before she hit the pavement. 8:43. Cutting it close, but Brandon should still be at his desk.

    He was.

    After greetings were exchanged-perfunctory on one side at least-Vicki slid in the reason for her call. ". . . and you and I both know you've found things that you haven't told the papers."

    "That's very true, Victoria." The coroner didn't even pretend not to understand. "But, as you know very well, I won't be able to tell these things to you either. I'm sorry, but you're no longer a member of the constabulary."

    "But I have been hired to work on the case." Quickly, she outlined the pertinent parts of Coreen's visit for him, leaving out any mention of the young lady's personal belief as to the supernatural identity of the killer as well as the latest phone call.

    "You've been hired as a private citizen, Victoria, and as such you have no more right to information than any other private citizen."

    Vicki stifled a sigh and considered how best to approach this. When Brandon Singh meant no, he said it, straight out with no frills. And then he hung up. As long as he remained willing to talk he remained willing to be convinced. "Look, Brandon, you know my record. You know I have as good a chance as anyone in the city of solving this case. And you know you want it solved. I'll stand a better chance if I have all available information."

    "Granted, but somehow this smacks of vigilantism."

    "Vigilantism? Trust me, Brandon, I am not going to dress up in some silly costume and leap around making the city safe for decent people." She doodled a bat symbol on her notepad, then hastily crumpled the page up and tossed it away. Under the circumstances, bats were not a particularly apt motif. "All I'm doing is investigating. I swear I'll hand over everything I turn up to Violent Crimes."

    "I believe you, Victoria." He paused and Vicki, fidgeting with impatience, jumped into the silence.

    "With a killer of this caliber on the loose, can the city afford not to have me on the case, even in an auxiliary position?"

    "Think highly of yourself, don't you?"

    She heard the smile in his voice and knew she had him. Dr. Brandon Singh believed in using every available resource and while he personally might have preferred a less intuitive approach than hers, he had to admit that "Victory" Nelson represented a valuable resource indeed. If she thought highly of herself, it wasn't without cause.

    "Very well," he said at last, his tone even more portentous than usual as though to make up for his earlier lapse. "But there's very little the papers don't have and I don't know what use you'll be able to make of it." He took a deep breath and even the ambient noise on the phone line seemed to fall silent to listen. "We found, in all but the first wound, a substance very like saliva. . . ."

    "Very like saliva?" Vicki interjected. "How could something be very like saliva? "

    "Something can't. But this was. What's more, every body so far, including that of young Reddick, has been missing the front half of the throat."

    "I'd already discovered that."

    "Indeed." For a moment, Vicki was afraid he'd taken offense at her interruption, but he continued. "The only other item kept from the press concerns the third body- the large man, DeVerne Jones. He was clutching a torn piece of thin membrane in his hand."

    "Membrane?"

    "Yes."

    "Like a bat wing?"

    "Remarkably similar, yes."

    It was Vicki's turn to breathe deeply. Something very like saliva and a bat wing. "I can see why you didn't tell the papers."

    * * *
    Celluci hung up the phone and reached for the paper. He couldn't decide whether the apology had been made easier because Vicki was out of her apartment or harder because he'd had to talk to her damned machine. Whatever. It was done and the next move was hers.

    A second later Dave Graham barely managed to snatch his coffee out of harm's way as his partner slammed the paper down on the desk.

    "Did you see this bullshit?" Celluci demanded.

    "The, uh, giant