‘Brave?’ he said aloud, failing
to hide his confusion at being called such a thing. She was definitely on
drugs.
He quickly recovered from the
unexpected compliment and attempted to act like he was downplaying it. ‘Yeah
well, some people are afraid of the Bourbon Kid,’ he shook his head, ‘…but I’m
not. I think he knows not to mess with me. I show no fear when he’s around.
Think he respects that.’
‘Wow. You should join the
police, Sanchez. They could use someone like you.’
He shrugged. ‘Well, the town
would be a safer place. That’s for sure.’
‘So join up!’ Flake sounded
genuinely excited at the idea.
‘I would,’ said Sanchez, pretending
to read the newspaper while he took another sneaky glance at Flake’s chest.
‘Believe me, if they were recruiting, I’d be first in line. This town needs
someone to clean up the streets.’
‘Brilliant!’ her voice went up a
few octaves. She slammed a white paper flyer down on to the table by his
coffee. ‘Look, you can sign up today!’
Sanchez stopped pretending to
read the paper and glanced down at the flyer. His eyes settled on the black
bold lettering at the centre of it.
POLICE RECRUITING
TODAY
‘I’ll have my eggs sunny side up
today please,’ he said, hoping to change the subject.
‘Oh, okay,’ said Flake. ‘But
what do you think of the flyer?’
‘And I’d like my sausages
burned, please.’
‘Okay, no problem. So
what do you think of the…’
‘And an extra piece of bacon.’
‘Okay, anything else?’
‘That should do it.’
Flake was very persistent, much
to Sanchez’s irritation. ‘See they’re allowing just about anyone to join the
police now,’ she said pointing at the flyer. ‘Just as a temporary measure,
until they can get some real cops in from out of town. So, you gonna sign up?’
‘Actually, did I mention I
wanted white toast?’
‘You always have white toast.’
‘Just making sure you hadn’t
forgotten.’
Flake giggled. ‘You’re so
funny,’ she said, gazing at him with big hopeful brown eyes. ‘So are you going
to sign up or what?’
Sanchez sighed. ‘I’d love to,’
he said. ‘But I’m not tall enough. I don’t meet the height restrictions.’
‘There are no height
restrictions,’ Flake said, her voice sounding more excited with every syllable.
‘I’m too old then.’
‘No age restrictions either.
Great, isn’t it?’
‘I have a criminal record.’
‘Doesn’t matter! Look, read the
whole flyer. They’re taking anyone. This is your big chance!’
There was no doubt about it. She
had to be on drugs. No one should be that enthusiastic in the morning.
Particularly not when they were serving breakfast. Still, Sanchez decided to
play along for now. He was willing to tell Flake whatever she wanted to hear,
as long as it meant he got to eat his breakfast in peace.
‘Well, that’s great news isn’t
it?’ he said disingenuously. ‘I’ll be down there as soon as I’ve finished my
breakfast. Just try and stop me.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Flake,
clapping her hands together with glee. ‘We can go together. I’m signing up too.
I’m so glad I’ll have someone to go with. This will just be the most fun, won’t
it?’
‘What?’
‘I’ll drive us there as soon as
you’ve finished your breakfast.’
‘Huh?’
‘I’m so excited! My horoscope
said this would happen!’
‘Wait, hold on a—’
‘In fact, I’m going to buy your
breakfast for you this morning.’ With that, Flake dashed off back to the
kitchen to make his breakfast. She sure did seem excited. Sanchez figured he’d
let her pay for his breakfast, as it was obviously important to her. But then,
once he’d finished eating it, he’d come up with a way of getting out of signing
up for the police force.
Five
Dan Harker was having a hell of a day already. In the early hours of the
morning he had been summoned to the Mayor’s office and deputized as the new
Captain of the Santa Mondega Police Department. His first day wasn’t going to
be a gentle bedding-in, either. Most of the city cops had been murdered the
previous day so he wasn’t going to have much help dealing with any crimes. The
Mayor had done all he could to help by placing advertisements all over town
requesting members of the public to sign up, but that just meant Harker would
have to spend half the day recruiting.
Investigating the most recent Bourbon Kid massacre and totaling up the number
of victims was going to be one hell of a job. The only good news was that
according to a number of eyewitnesses the Bourbon Kid had been gunned down and
beheaded in a hotel corridor just after midnight, so by rights the killing
should have come to an end.
Before heading to the station to introduce himself as the new Captain,
Harker first had to stop off at the local museum. The mayor had informed him
that the security department at the museum had some CCTV footage of the Kid
murdering their manager, Professor Bertram Cromwell.
When Harker arrived at the museum, Elijah Simmonds, the deputy manager,
greeted him in the reception area. Harker had only met Simmonds on one previous
occasion. It had been at a charity event held by Bertram Cromwell over a year
earlier. Simmonds had struck him as being a bit of a dick. He’d worn a cheap
ill-fitting suit and he had a horrendous ponytail that really didn’t suit his
narrow face.
Simmonds welcomed him with a
warm handshake and a cursory smile, so it wasn’t as if the guy was totally
devoid of qualities. Unfortunately though, h
e still
had the ponytail and the poor taste in suits. His face wasn’t quite as narrow
as before. In fact he appeared to be in the process of growing a second chin.
As the two of them walked along a
narrow corridor on the way to the security office, Simmonds surprised the new
Police Captain with an observation Harker wouldn’t have made himself.
‘You and I have a lot in common,’
he said.
‘How so?’
‘Well, we obviously both like to
dress well,’ Simmonds smiled and hesitated a moment waiting for Harker to make
an agreeing sound of some kind. He didn’t. Harker’s black three-piece suit was
impeccable and fitted snugly, unlike Simmonds’s ill-fitting grey number. ‘And
then of course there’s the obvious,’ Simmonds continued.
‘What’s that then?’
They arrived at a door in the left
wall of the corridor and Simmonds turned the handle of it, pushing it open
before continuing. ‘Both of us have just landed ourselves a promotion, courtesy
of the Bourbon Kid’s killing spree yesterday.’
Harker threw a look of disapproval
at Simmonds. The comment was in rather poor taste under the circumstances.
Simmonds recognised the look.
‘Obviously it’s not how I would
have wanted to get my new job. I would much rather Bertram Cromwell was still
alive, of course, as I’m sure you wouldn’t have wished death on the previous
Police Captain.’
Simmonds stepped inside the
security office and held the door open for Harker to follow him through.
‘The last Captain was a Grade A
prick and I’m glad he’s dead,’ said Harker, stepping into the room.
‘Oh.’
‘Can you just show me the CCTV
tapes please? Then I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a hell of a busy day ahead.’
‘Of course.’
Inside the security office,
sitting in a rather knackered looking blue chair was a guard in a grey uniform.
He was watching a bank of television monitors on the wall in front of him. He
was a big, broad shouldered fellow with blond wavy hair and striking blue eyes.
Simmonds strolled over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
‘James, did you manage to make a
copy of the murder footage for the police?’
The security guard sat upright.
‘Sure did, sir.’ He picked up a CD in a plastic case that was on the desk in
front of him. ‘It’s all on there.’
Simmonds took the CD and held it
out for Harker.
‘Thanks,’ said Harker, snatching
the CD away from him. He peered over the security guard’s shoulder at the bank
of monitors he was watching. They showed live footage of the goings on all
around the museum.
‘Say, James,’ Harker said. ‘Could
you get the footage of the murder up on screen for me now? Be useful if I could
take a quick look at it before I leave, just in case I spot anything I’d like
to ask you guys about. I wouldn’t wanna be two miles away watching it and
wishing I could ask you what I’m looking at.’
‘Sure thing sir,’ said James. He
pressed a few keys on a keyboard on the desk in front of him and then pointed
up at a monitor on the right. ‘Should be coming up on this screen here.’
Harker leaned over James’s
shoulder to get a closer look at the footage on the black and white monitor.
The image wasn’t especially clear. He was able to make out the figure of
Bertram Cromwell sitting in a comfy chair in the museum’s staff room. The
professor was watching the news on a television. After about ten seconds,
Harker saw a tall figure in a hooded robe enter the room. Cromwell stood up
from his chair and a brief exchange of dialogue followed, none of which was
available due to the lack of audio provided by the CCTV camera. The dark hooded
figure of the Bourbon Kid then pulled a machete out from within his robe.
Harker winced as he watched the Kid hack Cromwell to pieces. It was as violent
a death as the new Police Captain had ever witnessed, and he had seen a fair
bit of violence in his time. It seemed like an extremely unjust way for such a
decent man to die. At the end of the slaying, the Kid walked calmly out of the
room. James the security guard pressed a button on his keyboard and the image
froze on screen showing Cromwell’s dead body lying in a pool of his own blood
on the floor.
‘It gets worse every time I see
it,’ said Simmonds, visibly shuddering.
‘Yeah, I’m sure,’ said Harker.
Something had caught his eye at the bottom of the screen. He stared closely at
it for a moment, recalling something the Mayor had said when they had spoken
earlier. ‘Is that clock right?’ he asked, pointing at the time display in the
bottom corner of the screen.
James the security guard nodded.
‘Yep. Two thirty-seven. That’s about right I think. I saw the Professor about
twenty minutes before that. I recommended that he go home but he was totally
glued to the news, watching all the updates about the murders and stuff.’
‘Interesting,’ said Harker,
scratching his chin. ‘The Bourbon Kid was reported dead not long after
midnight. We got a whole bunch of eyewitnesses to back that up too.’
Simmonds looked surprised.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. He was gunned down and
beheaded by a bunch of military guys in an apartment block. I was under the
assumption that Cromwell was one of his last victims before they caught him.
This kind of complicates things.’
‘So the Bourbon Kid is still
alive?’
Harker nodded. ‘So it would seem.
I’ll take this CD and be on my way. If the Bourbon Kid is still at large I’d better
make sure the press are aware. The public have a right to know that the streets
are still unsafe.’
‘You might want to tell those
military guys that they beheaded the wrong person too.’
Harker smiled. ‘I’m hoping they’ll
see it on the news before they leave town, if they’re even still around.’
Six
Snow was falling from the skies
over Santa Mondega for the first time that Dante could remember. He marvelled
at it as Vanity drove him and Kacy to the Casa de Ville.
“Cool car, ain’t it, babe?” Dante
heard Vanity say to Kacy.
“Ford
Ranger.
Brand new, too.”
“Pity it’s blue,” Kacy said in a
bored tone as she looked out of the window.
From his seat in the back Dante
smirked. Kacy wasn’t the sort to be impressed by a car that wasn’t stolen. As
it happened, he was pleased they were in the Ranger. The roads were more
dangerous than usual.
Dark
clouds were forming over the city too. Big ones.
What looked like a huge medieval
castle rose up in the distance.
“What the hell is that?” Kacy
asked.
“That’s the Casa de Ville,” Vanity
replied.
“It’s a bit fucking big, isn’t
it?’ said Dante.
“It’s gonna need to be,’ said
Vanity. ‘There’s gonna be a helluva lot of vampires in there in a minute.’
Dante shook his head. The sight of
Case de Ville getting larger and larger as they drew closer rendered him
speechless for once.
Vanity parked the Ranger in a
large car park around the back of the main building. Dante and Kacy followed
him back around to the front of the building where a vampire wearing some curious
black eye makeup let them in through the front door and directed them to the
main hall.