Beyond The Pale Part 11

"Now, don't get all cranky on me. Back home we always say, 'Don't get mad. Just scratch your b.u.t.t and get glad.' " She giggled at me again. "Think about it, Daphy. If I changed or went ahead and freed myself, you'd still be human. If anyone returned they'd see me, and you wouldn't be ready to fight beside me. Even if I could handle them, you could have been hurt. Besides, I didn't want to start the party without you, for a few minutes anyway."

"I guess," I said, realizing I should be feeling grateful for Benny's help and thinking that I really wanted to locate some tissues. "How long was I out?" I stage-whispered to her.

"I don't know. You were unconscious when they brought me in here. I've only been tied up for five minutes or so, and the b.a.s.t.a.r.d who hit me could still be in the apartment."

"Well, let's get out of here," I said.

"Now you're talking," she said.

My captors had pulled the pin from the weight stack, leaving a pull-down weight of over three hundred pounds. Whoever tied me up must have figured no woman-even one on steroids-had the muscle for that kind of weight. But whether in human or bat form, any vampire did.

So I pulled down on the bar and snapped the duct tape with ease. "a.s.sholes," I said as I ripped the tape off my wrists. "This frigging hurts. I lost my circulation too. And where the h.e.l.l is my purse?" I said grumpily.

"It's over there on the floor, Daphy. They must have tossed it in the room," Benny said.

"Well, that's a plus," I said as I started rummaging through it and found a Wash'n Dri packet. I cleaned up, then I slipped off my clothes. I can't tell you how many of my favorite outfits I've had to abandon over the years. Once I was naked I began to transform. My human self fell away as the vampire inside me emerged; my eyeteeth lengthened, my fingernails became clawlike, my wings burst free from my back with a sharp crack mingled with a deep thrumming, like the string of a bow when an arrow is loosed. Every time I hear that great unfolding, my heart leaps. It banishes the hurt and sadness of the day, sending grief fleeing like a gray thief into the night. As I changed, the colors around me throbbed and intensified, whirling like a kaleidoscope. The room's overhead light became a small sun, hurting my eyes. Too bright, too bright. I craved the darkness. I felt strong and alive, empowered and free.

"d.a.m.n it all to h.e.l.l, Daphy. I just broke a nail," Benny said as she peeled the duct tape off. She stripped down too. A breeze hit me as her wings unfolded with a whoosh. As they stretched out, quivering, I could see they were dark, but her lithe body was golden fur, all glistening and light. She was a natural blonde after all.

We both stood there a moment, adjusting to the change.

"You know what?" Benny said. "Louis is supposed to call me. I'm taking my cell."

"Good idea," I said. "Me too. Can you take our clothes? We might have to change back." Benny's handbag had been bandolier style across her torso even when they tied her up. I was beginning to realize that the woman thought of everything.

Benny rolled her eyes at me. "My purse isn't that big. I can only carry the essentials. But, hey, it's New York. I don't think anyone would even notice if we walked naked down Broadway."

"Benny, you you they'd notice," I said. I fooled around with the strap on my large Louis Vuitton Noe bag until I figured out how to make a sling that fit snugly over my shoulder. As I started stuffing my clothes into the purse, I asked, "How did you end up here? Who grabbed you?" they'd notice," I said. I fooled around with the strap on my large Louis Vuitton Noe bag until I figured out how to make a sling that fit snugly over my shoulder. As I started stuffing my clothes into the purse, I asked, "How did you end up here? Who grabbed you?"

Benny was bouncing up and down on her toes and flapping her wings a bit. I guessed she hadn't transformed in a while. She was examining the undersides of her wings while she talked to me. "As soon as I left the apartment, my cell phone rang. It was Louis, and he was in a cab following the deliverymen. He said he'd call me back when they got to their destination, and that I might as well hang around to make sure you got out okay. Then a limo pulled up. Bonaventure and a pale young woman-she looked kind of peaked, you know-left with a ton of suitcases. I thought it was strange that you hadn't come out first. I didn't know what happened to you."

I motioned her over to the window. It was stuck, and I struggled to get it open. She went on with her story as I worked.

"As soon as they pulled away I went back and convinced the doorman to let me go back upstairs. Tanya opened the door, but I didn't get more than a few feet into the apartment when somebody whacked me on the head. Whoever it was just don't know nothing about big hair and hair spray. I didn't really pa.s.s out, but I pretended real quick. Some muscular yahoo brought me in here, tied me up, and left. He took the diamonds, by the way. What do you want to bet that Mr. J is going to be throwing a hissy fit about that. It's just my luck. As my mama always said, 'If it was raining soup, I'd have a fork.' Anyways, you were already here. Even though you were out cold, I was really glad to see you. Then I tried to get you to wake up." She paused and said, "You know, Daphy, I think we'd better skedaddle."

I gave her an exasperated look. "Why do you think I'm trying to open the window?"

"Well, you should have asked me to give you a hand." She helped me give it a mighty push, and it slid upward.

"After you," I said. She scrambled onto the sill and looked down. It was a long way to the street. "Where to?" she asked as she jumped.

I stuck my head out the window and yelled to her, "I think we should get to Doug Schneibel's loft as fast as we can. I'm pretty sure that's where Bonaventure was heading. I have a really bad feeling about what's happening there."

She hovered outside the building while I hopped up on the sill. The cold night air rushed by me, fluttering the draperies. The yellow half moon was large and low. I leaped outward with a surge of joy, and I sailed off into the dark sky above the city. Benny was just a second behind me.

In silent flight we swooped around the dark towers of Manhattan that pierced the heavens like the pointed spires of cathedrals. We sailed above the avenues, skimming rooftops and brus.h.i.+ng by buildings. In one window the blue spurt of a match lit the face of a red-haired woman smoking alone in the dark. She looked out the window with sadness in her eyes, sucked on the cigarette, and stared at my pa.s.sing shape with no emotion at all. In another window a small boy sat on the sill, his eyes growing wide as my wingtips nearly touched the pane before him. Would they remember me in the deep recesses of their dreams years hence as the sum of all their fears, or as an angel of the night? A church bell struck the hour with long, mournful notes, ten times over. The east wind blew.

And then my cell phone rang.

"d.a.m.n!" I said as I fumbled to get it out of my purse. I couldn't open the d.a.m.ned bag too wide or I'd have the contents raining down into the street below. Grabbing the cell phone with my talonlike nails was no picnic either. "h.e.l.lo?" I said.

"Hey, Daphne, it's Darius. You okay?"

"I'm fine. You?" I tried to sound normal as I barely missed a flagpole poking out from the upper floors of a department store.

"Was that Saks?" Benny yelled.

"Did you say something, Daphne? I think we've got bad reception. Where are you?" Darius asked.

"Ah, I'm headed downtown," I bellowed into the phone.

"I can't hear you very well," Darius said. "Are you in a cab? Is the window open? There's a lot of noise."

"Uh-huh. The cabbie has the windows open. Sorry." What the h.e.l.l could I say, I'm flying twenty stories above Fifth Avenue I'm flying twenty stories above Fifth Avenue? "Where are you?"

"Taking care of business, you know," he said, and it was just the kind of answer that ticked me off.

"I mean, did you get into the apartment? I left the door open. Did everything go okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Thanks. What you did was perfect. Hey, Daphy, I..." He said something softly, and I couldn't make out his words over the rus.h.i.+ng wind.

"What? I can't hear you," I yelled.

"It's not important," he said more loudly. "I just wanted to hear your voice. Know you were okay."

"I'm okay," I said.

"I gotta go. I just wanted, you know, to tell you I'm thinking about you."

"I'm thinking about you too." Well, I was right now, so that wasn't a lie.

"Be careful. Remember we have a date," he said with a laugh.

"I won't forget. You be careful too," I added as I dodged an empty window washer's scaffold somebody had left hanging on the side of a building.

"'Bye, pretty girl," he said, and I thought I heard the sound of a kiss as I clicked off, but it was hard to tell with the wind. Benny was giving me one of those looks, grinning like a Ches.h.i.+re cat.

"What?" I called over to her.

"Was that Darius? I think he likes you," she yelled back at me. "He really really likes you." likes you."

"Shut up." I said, and as I thought of Darius, I tasted his lips, remembered the touch of his hands on my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and felt the ancient thirst for blood consume me. I wanted to drink from him deeply, fully, until he filled me with his life. I pushed that thought away, but my heart was dancing and I was almost laughing as we flew.

At the end of Ca.n.a.l Street, the Holland Tunnel opened like a gaping maw into the bowels of the earth, leading a stream of cars westward to the barren wasteland and stinking meadows of New Jersey. Near the tunnel, Schneibel's warehouse sat like a heavy box, square and squat. We landed on the window ledge where his hand had once reached out to drop me the key. The huge, wire-meshed window wasn't locked. I opened it. And from the first I could smell the blood.

We scooted through the window and dropped down. The gallery lights were on and illuminated a ghastly scene. Smashed masks littered the floor. A few of the statues made of bones, hair, and wood had been knocked off their pedestals and were hacked to bits in an insane fury.

A spray of blood arched across one wall, red dots against the white like a Pollock painting. And lying with an ax buried deep in his chest was Herr Schneibel, his white hair drenched red, his eyes staring lifelessly toward the ceiling.

I was too late. Schneibel had tried to destroy his collection but not quickly enough. Most of the pieces were gone. Whoever possessed them now had powers no human should wield. These items came from death and brought its dark shadows with them to spread out across the land.

"Who did this?" Benny said.

"Bonaventure, I think," I said.

"It's bad," she said.

"You have no idea how bad."

Benny was walking around the perimeter of the room, taking care not to step in the blood. "Daphy, come over here," she said.

I joined her on the far side of the loft near the door. Pieces of packing excelsior were scattered around the floor. A box cutter lay discarded amid the trash. A pair of men's Ray-Ban sungla.s.ses sat forgotten on the table. I picked them up and put them in my purse. Maybe they'd tell me nothing, but I had hopes that they might help reveal what happened to Schneibel. After all, a lottery ticket isn't a worthless piece of paper until you're sure it's not the number that means you've won a fortune.

"See anything else?" I asked.

"No. It looks like they took the art and got out fast."

"We going to call nine-one-one?"

"I don't think so. n.o.body can help him now. Let's just get out of here," I said as I looked back at Schneibel's body. A tiny white head peeped out of his pocket. "Gunther," I said.

"Who?" Benny asked.

"Schneibel's pet.' " I walked carefully over to the body and gently picked up the rat. He squeaked and looked into my eyes. He was trembling. Blood stained his feet. I stroked his head. " 'Wee, sleekit, cow'rin.' tim'rous beastie, O what a panic's in thy breastie!' " I whispered, quoting Bobby Burns. "Don't worry, little one; I won't leave you here." I opened my purse, made a nest of sorts in my clothes, and gently put him in.

"Wait a sec," Benny said. "Let me call Louis."

She flipped open her phone and punched in the number. "Lou, sugar? Benny here. Where are you? Okay. Say it slow. Okay. No, we can be there in ten minutes. Anybody else show up? No? Hold down the fort. Yeah, just wait. We'll go in together See ya." She clicked off and looked at me. "He followed the three guys over to Jersey City. They went into the first floor of a row house. It's not far from the river. I think we can find it. Let's go kick some a.s.s!" she said, and laughed.

"Sounds good to me," I said. I took one last look at the corpse of the old man amid the shattered masks. As I stared, the broken bits of bone around him s.h.i.+mmered and grew whiter; and before my eyes the blood began to congeal. A wall minor reflected my dark form. I looked in it and it cracked from side to side.

Black against black, we flew across the glistening dark swath of the Hudson River, our sleek, winged bodies erratically swooping and gliding like kites jerked along on an invisible string. The wet air added sparkling droplets to our fur. I thought no thoughts. I existed only in my sensations. Cold wind. The sharp smell of water. Pale lights s.h.i.+ning through frost on the far sh.o.r.e. I followed Benny's swift flight westward.

Louis, transformed, stood in the shadows outside a rusty wooden house on a ghetto street in Jersey City. A leafless sycamore tree filtered the light from a street lamp, its limbs moaning in the wind and making moving shadows on the sidewalk below. The weather-beaten boards of the facade affected me like a human face, bearing traces of the hard lives and lost dreams of those who lived within. Despair hung over the place like a dank fog.

We should have made a plan before the three of us, our phantom shapes moving silently, flew down the narrow s.p.a.ce between the row houses. We slipped into the weedy backyard and burst through the rear door. But we didn't talk amongst ourselves at all before we went in. I can only blame myself for what happened.

The same three men who had delivered the diamonds to Bonaventure sat in the kitchen, where a radio on the counter blared Arab music and a pizza box gaped open on the table surrounded by cans of c.o.ke. All this registered clearly as the scene unfolded in slow motion. Screaming, the men all pushed back from the table. One pulled a gun and fired wildly, the bullet tw.a.n.ging against the refrigerator as he scrambled toward the door. Louis was on him instantly, his claws raking a terrible wound down the man's back, his fangs descending and sinking into the man's neck. I couldn't stop Louis, and besides, I had my own opponent to deal with. Yelling incoherently, the short, swarthy man in front of me grabbed a knife from the table and slashed the air, missing me by a mile. "Fool!" I hissed, and blocked his thrusts with one arm, sending the knife flying toward the sink while my other fist smashed into the bridge of his nose. A torrent of blood poured out of his nostrils, but I felt no hunger, just the white-hot rage of battle. He went to his knees. I kicked him under the jaw and his head snapped back. He fell over like a bowling pin going down.

Meanwhile Benny reached her long arm toward the cowering heap of humanity in front of her. He hadn't even tried to fight or run, just fell down in terror. She squeezed his neck as expertly as someone had recently squeezed mine. The man's eyes rolled back in his head and he slid down onto the floor, unconscious. She pulled the radio's plug from the wall and ripped the cord free. She jerked the man's wrists behind him and tied his hands to the pipe of the kitchen radiator. She took some of the napkins from the pizza box and stuffed them in the man's mouth. Then her eyes caught mine in a silent message. We both knew what Louis had done, and it was too late to intervene.

The third man's body lay limp in the vampire's arms. He let it drop lifeless to the floor with a sick thud. Louis turned toward us then, his fangs dripping red. His green eyes were luminescent and frightening; his lower lids drooped. He looked drunk and cruel. His face reflected a combination of diabolical desire and h.e.l.lish glee. "Are they dead?" he hissed at us. "This one filled my belly but I can drink more."

"No! Get back, Louis. Get back. No more blood," I shouted, putting myself between the unconscious body at my feet and the rapacious vampire. "We need these men alive. They need to be interrogated. You must not touch them."

"Too bad," he hissed. "Too bad." He stood there, his sides heaving, his head hanging like that of a thoroughbred horse winded after a race.

I had to make a decision right then about what to do and who to call. I couldn't handle this alone. Finally I flipped open my cell phone and called J's number. The answering machine picked up and I left a message giving the address of the Jersey City house. I told him to get out there fast. I didn't tell him one man was dead.

I looked over at Benny. Her attention was riveted on Louis, and he was staring back at her. It was as if a magnet were pulling them toward each other. I remembered the desires sp.a.w.ned by battle, by killing, by the adrenaline surge of power. I wanted out of there.

"Benny," I said. "These men cannot die. Do you understand?" I had real doubts it was safe to leave them alone.

"Yes," she whispered. "Go, Daphy, just go," she breathed.

I glided to the door, my wings unfurling, my feet ready to leave the bonds of earth. I glanced back to see Benny going into Louis's arms and him pus.h.i.+ng her against a wall, the l.u.s.t unmistakable as if he were about to take her there, and I suppose he was. I didn't stay to find out, but soared up into the night.

The darkness embraced me as I ascended high, wanting the air to wash me clean, wanting to forget the look of horror on the man's face before Louis bit him, wanting to forget the mad pa.s.sion of Louis pus.h.i.+ng Benny against the wall. The far sh.o.r.e of New Jersey seemed to move away behind me, and I did not know whether I was riding the wind, or the wind was riding me. There, above the waters, I was suspended between heaven and earth as time pa.s.sed. The lemon-hued moon shone on the river. I sailed with the currents of air. Empty outside, empty inside, I touched the stars.

And I thought of Darius. I would not have felt this ache inside my heart had I never met him.

The night was lengthening into the wee hours when I decided to go back to Bonaventure's penthouse. Perhaps I could find out what Darius had done there, or if nothing else, maybe I could find the location of Bonaventure's country place.

I reentered Bonaventure's apartment the same way I left, landing silently on the window ledge and gliding in over the sill. I saw no reason to retain my bat form and fell down on all fours as the energy drained from me. In less time than it takes to tell about it, I became human once more. Carefully moving Gunther from his nest, I took my clothes from my purse and dressed quickly. The cas.h.i.+er's check for $50 million was still in my pocket. Then I left the room, fearful of what I might find, but expecting nothing.

As soon as I stepped from the exercise room, my fears proved valid. The smell of fresh blood permeated the apartment. I followed the scent and walked into the living room. Nothing there, no mess, no signs of a struggle. I went into the kitchen. The smell was stronger. I entered the maid's room. A half-packed suitcase lay open on the bed. The dour-faced Tanya lay facedown on the floor, a crumpled rag doll. Blood spread out from beneath her head and stained the hardwood floor like dark red wine. Taking care not to tread in it, I went over to her and stooped down, grasped her shoulders, and gently turned her over. Her blank eyes stared upward; her throat had been slit. It was neatly done, the way a commando would eliminate an enemy sentry standing post outside a camp. Something squeezed tight in my heart. Could Darius have done this? Gently and with a whispered prayer, I laid Tanya back as I had found her.

I decided to go into the entrance hall and search near the telephone for some information on Bonaventure's country place. Perhaps J already knew the information. But I hadn't been too impressed with the quality of his dossiers. And perhaps Darius knew. Yet finding out on my own would not only be deeply satisfying; it would allow me to proceed on my own. I have my own motto for living: It's far better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission It's far better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

I walked back through the kitchen and entered the dining room with its ostentatious gilded chairs and huge statue of a blackamoor, his hand outstretched with a tray, standing to one side. He seemed to grin at me in a disconcerting way. The room suddenly tilted wildly. I stumbled and nearly fell. I must be light-headed, tired from the long flight, or more deeply affected than I wanted to admit by Louis's murderous bite and Tanya's death. I grabbed the back of a chair to steady myself. The sweet, cloying smell of blood still filled my nostrils, and it wasn't coming from Tanya's room.

I took some deep breaths. I am a very strong person, emotionally as well as physically. I was sure no faintness had overcome me. No, I was certain evil had been here. Evil had left its mark here. I headed toward the vestibule, steeling myself for what awaited me.

Close to the front door lay Issa. spread-eagle, his throat cut with military efficiency just as Tanya's had been. His mouth was drawn back in a grimace, showing his crooked teeth. I didn't approach him; I didn't touch him. I stood immobile and tried to reason out what had happened here tonight.

I was reasonably sure Issa had been the "muscleman" who hit Benny-if she had been hit. it crossed my mind that Benny could have fabricated her "capture," after killing these two-if she wanted the diamonds for herself. I had independent wealth, but Benny didn't. Vampires are a greedy bunch in every way: hedonistic, driven by pleasure, and with a lax to nonexistent moral code. I didn't hold that against Benny in the least, but I had to at least consider her a suspect. And Benny had had on a red suit, which might have hidden any blood splatters. On the other hand, it would have been difficult to tie herself to the treadmill, and I had no reason to believe she would have killed in this manner. No vampire would have wasted this much blood. A vampire would have left the cla.s.sic puncture wounds, unless, of course, the slit throat was to disguise them. I shook my head. This kind of thinking was too arcane. Another of my mottos is, Trust everyone but always cut the cards first Trust everyone but always cut the cards first. But I knew and liked Benny. Even though I didn't entirely trust her, my instincts are rarely wrong. I was tempted to say "never wrong," but never say never.

I continued to puzzle out what had been the most likely scenario. When Issa and Tanya were killed, Bonaventure and Catharine had already left. Benny was tied up with me in the exercise room. That left only two likely people to have committed the murders: the scary black dude from Sierra Leone, Bockerie, or Darius. Was Bockerie here at all last night? I hadn't seen him in the apartment. Had he been out and come back, walking in on Issa and the diamonds? Of course, I hadn't seen Issa either, and evidently he had been here all along.

And I still didn't know what Darius's purpose was in the apartment. Had he been looking for something? Or had he entered in order to terminate these two? It would bother me if he'd killed them, especially in Tanya's case. She may have been a slavish attendant to Bonaventure's needs, she may have personified the dark Slavic temperament, but she hadn't committed any crime that I knew of. Why kill her?

Then my thoughts went back to the diamonds again. They were gone. Someone had them. Bonaventure didn't take them. My guess was that Issa had hit Benny and grabbed the valise, on impulse, without thinking it out. Then he panicked. Maybe he offered to split them with Tanya. Maybe they decided to take the money and run. Then someone stopped them, and-I would wager the farm on it-whoever stopped them had the diamonds. They were a powerful motive for getting rid of Issa and for silencing Tanya. I sighed. I had pretty much made up my mind. Bockerie. I would place my bets on the cruel, amoral General Mosquito as the one to have murdered these two people without hesitation. I hoped I could prove it. Killing wounds the soul. It numbs the heart. I knew that all too well. I wanted Darius to be a good guy, a white knight, and I hoped my conclusion wasn't just wishful thinking. It would be so much more straightforward to a.s.sume his orders were to "terminate with extreme prejudice."

I stopped pondering at that point and started to go through the drawer in the telephone table. There was nothing there except a Manhattan phone book, a pad, and some pens. I took out the pad and started writing down the numbers programmed into the phone's speed dial. The first few were in Manhattan. I copied them down, deciding to check them out later, but they weren't what I was looking for. I hit the b.u.t.tons and up popped a few-foreign exchanges, and bingo, a number with the area code 570, which sounded like a possible. I jotted it down and quickly finished off the rest of the entries.

Next I scrolled back through the caller ID to see who had called here recently. The only call within the last twenty-four hours was a local number that had also been on the speed dial. I made a private wager with myself that it was a car service confirming an appointment for a pickup. Maybe Issa or Tanya had made it, but I'd like to find out who had actually taken the ride and where they went.