The Book of Death (Bourbon Kid 4)

by the time I get back.’
    Harker turned on his heels and headed
for the door that led to the stairs. Sanchez pulled a face at him behind his
back and mumbled a quiet impersonation of him under his breath.
    ‘Isn’t this exciting?’ said
Flake.
    ‘Exhilarating,’ said Sanchez
sarcastically. He walked over to the mop and bucket and picked it up. Then he
wheeled it over to the elevator and pressed a grey button in the wall to call
it. The doors opened immediately and Sanchez was overwhelmed by the stench of
shit. The elevator was covered in blood, brains and shit from floor to ceiling.
It looked worse than the toilets in the Tapioca after a Saturday night. Shaking
his head in disgust, he pulled the mop out from the bucket and shoved the head
of it into the floor. This would be no five-minute job. The stink alone would
take weeks to eliminate.
    Two minutes into his mopping
task, Sanchez heard someone approaching the reception desk behind him. Then he
heard a lady’s voice speak. It was a voice he recognised.
    ‘I’d like to report the theft of
a book from the library,’ it said.
    Ulrika Price. The bitch.
    Sanchez stepped into a now clean
part of the elevator and turned around. His eyes immediately met Ulrika’s. The
librarian had obviously come straight from work because she was wearing a
woolly brown cardigan over a flowery dress, standard attire for annoying
librarian types. She loomed ominously over the reception desk, with Flake
seated in front of her, with her back to Sanchez. Ulrika’s piercing green eyes
opened wide when she saw Sanchez.
    ‘It’s him ! ’ she hissed.
‘Hestole it!’
    Sanchez shook his head. ‘No. Not
me,’ he mumbled.
    Ulrika strode around the
reception desk. Flake stood up. ‘You can’t go back there,’ she said.
    Without taking her eyes off
Sanchez, Ulrika shoved Flake in the face, knocking her back into her chair.
Then to Sanchez’s utter horror, she opened her mouth to reveal a set of rapidly
expanding vampire fangs.
    Just as he’d suspected in the
past, this evil bitch was a vampire. And right now, she had her eyes set on
Sanchez as her first meal.
    There was only one thing to do.
Press a button in the elevator and get the hell out of there. Sanchez looked
down at the keypad. All of the buttons were covered in shit apart from one. The
button for the basement. He pressed it six times in less than a second. Through
the closing doors he saw Ulrika’s feet leave the floor as she flew towards him,
fangs wide open.

 
    Eleven

 
    Beth arrived at Cromwell’s
office and was saddened to find that the nameplate on the door had already been
changed. Instead of CROMWELL it now read SIMMONDS in bold silver lettering over
the black plaque.
    She knocked twice on the door
and soon heard Simmonds’s voice call through from the other side.
    ‘Come in.’
    She reached for the large brass doorknob
and twisted it first one way and then the other. It didn’t open so she tried
pulling hard as she twisted it this way and that. She could never remember if
the door opened inwards or out. Eventually she was relieved to find that it
opened when she pushed it and turned the knob to the right simultaneously.
Breathing a sigh of relief she entered the office and closed the door shut
behind her.
    Simmonds was sitting in the
large black leather chair behind the shiny oak desk. And he looked smug. Even
by his own smug standards as the undisputed King of Smug Town. He had his blond
hair scraped back into its traditional greasy Steven Seagal style ponytail.
    ‘Hello, Elijah,’ Beth said
smiling tentatively.
    ‘It’s Mr Simmonds to you,
Lansbury,’ he replied coldly.
    She approached one of the two
seats on the near side of the desk opposite Simmonds.
    ‘Don’t bother sitting down,’ he
said waving a dismissive hand at her. ‘This isn’t going to take long.’
    ‘Umm, okay.’
    ‘Terrible news about Bertram
obviously, but life goes on. I hope you’re not too upset.’
    ‘Are you kidding? Mr Cromwell
was a lovely man.’
    ‘Yes, the emphasis there being was .
Unfortunately now he’s dead, but the museum is not. And I, as the new manager
am going to have to make all the changes that Cromwell was too weak to make.’
    Beth nodded, knowing what was
coming. ‘Okay.’
    ‘We have to cut costs and I’m
afraid that means that some staff will lose their jobs.’
    ‘Oh dear, how many?’
    Simmonds grimaced. ‘I was hoping
you wouldn’t ask that. Basically we only need to lose one