Raj sighed, thinking every extra minute spent in Scavetti's company had to be taking at least an hour off his immortal life. But he waited, letting thoughts of the lovely Sarah Stratton, and what he had planned for her, make those minutes pass more pleasantly.
He jerked his thoughts away from Sarah and fixed his sight on the door moments before a big man in a dark suit walked into the room. He recognized Police Commissioner Thornton from his picture in the lobby behind the bulletproof glass. With him were William Cowens, his bodyguard, and Edward Blackwood. Commissioner Thornton took a look around, his gaze lighting briefly on Raj before moving on to Scavetti. “Have you begun the briefing yet?"
"No, sir,” Scavetti said. “Captain said to wait for you and Mr. Cowens."
"Then let's get this started. William,” he said, addressing Cowens, “these are Detectives Scavetti and Felder.” He indicated each man in turn. “They're heading up Patricia's case and I have every confidence in their abilities. He pulled out two chairs, offered one to Cowens and sat in the other. “Edward Blackwood,” he continued, with a nod toward the HR founder, “is Mr. Cowens's advisor in this matter and will be serving as his press spokesman unless we decide a more personal statement is warranted.” He didn't bother to introduce the bodyguard, of course. It wasn't appropriate and no one took offense. The man eyed the room carefully, his gaze lingering on Raj before he moved to take up a position between his client and the door, while still having a clear view of everyone in the room.
"And you, sir,” Thornton said, addressing Raj directly, “must be the representative from our local vampire community.” He all but choked on the words, which Raj found amusing. That most humans preferred to believe vampires didn't exist was understandable, even preferable, to the vampire community. As he'd told Krystof, vampires survived largely by living below the radar, so to speak. If the humans thought too much about what walked among them, they might be prodded into doing something about it. And as powerful as vampires were, they were few in number, especially compared to the billions of humans now walking the Earth.
But it always surprised him when the human authorities permitted themselves to remain equally ignorant. Thornton was the Police Commissioner of a major American city—a city which was controlled by a vampire lord, no less; a city that hosted the most powerful vampires on the continent at the Vampire Council meeting every eighth year—and the man couldn't even say the word vampire without choking on it. But Raj kept these thoughts private. He rose slightly, just enough to extend his hand halfway across the table, establishing the pecking order by forcing the Commissioner to do likewise.
"Raymond Gregor,” he said. He noticed the Commissioner avoided looking at him directly and once again had to stifle the urge to laugh out loud. Television and movies had spread many myths about vampires, most of them utter foolishness, although some played into the vampires’ hands quite nicely. The need for eye contact was one of them. It helped sometimes to focus the target's attention, but if Raj wanted to seize control of a human's mind, he certainly didn't need to waste time staring into his eyes to do so.
"Always an honor to meet some of our fine men in blue, Detectives.” Blackwood's voice broke the sudden tension. “Even if you wear a suit,” he added, with his patented charming smile. He shook hands with the two detectives. “And Mr. Gregor,” he enthused, shaking Raj's hand in turn. “This is indeed a pleasure. My institute would love to open a dialogue with your people. I believe we have much in common."
Raj accepted the handshake without comment. Humanity Realized had been after the vampire community for years, trying to “open a dialogue.” Vampires were all but immortal, and HR wanted to know why so they could sell the secret to wealthy humans and thus fulfill their mission of realizing what they considered to be the full human potential. Since the last thing the people of Earth—or vampires either, for that matter—needed was a competing bunch of rich, immortal a**holes running around, every vampire council on the planet had issued a firm edict. There was to be no cooperation of any sort with humans when it came to researching vampire physiology. It was the one thing, possibly the only thing, every council member agreed upon wholeheartedly, and they enforced that edict absolutely. The penalty was death—permanent and instant death—for any vampire caught breaking the edict. No trial, no appeal. Vampire justice had its own code, and it was uncompromising.
"I'd like to make something clear right now,” Cowens said, his tone suggesting he was accustomed to having strict attention paid to everything he said. And indeed, silence fell as everyone in the room turned to look at him. “My daughter is missing.” He breathed deeply in and out through his nose, his jaw clenched, visibly struggling to bring his emotions under control. “I know how this works,” he said bluntly. “I know you all think she's dead already.” His eyes grew hard and he stared at Felder and Scavetti. “I don't believe that. I won't believe that until I have a body to take home. I want a full investigation, do you understand me? I don't care if you resent me talking to you this way. You can complain to your Union, to the Commissioner, to God himself. I don't care. I want my daughter found. Dead . . .” He closed his eyes against the pain. “Dead or alive,” he continued hoarsely. “Or heads will roll. Do you understand me?"
Felder and Scavetti returned his stare and Raj gave them credit for not being cowed by the explicit threat. Cowens had more than enough influence to get a couple of city detectives broken down to street cops if they failed him, and they had to know that.
"And you,” Cowens said, turning his angry gaze on Raj, who regarded him impassively. “I don't give a f**k who you are or who your so-called master is. If one of you monsters has my daughter, if you've harmed a single hair on her head.” Cowens rose and leaned forward across the table. “I have resources you cannot imagine, vampire. No hole will be deep enough to hide you.” He kicked his chair out of the way suddenly, raked all of them with an angry glare and strode from the room, his bodyguard racing to hit the doorway before he did. Blackwood scrambled to his feet only steps behind, but the Commissioner merely stood and watched them leave.
When he turned back, his expression was somber. “This is a difficult case, gentlemen. Not just for you, but for the Department. I'm trusting you to take care of it.” And he, too, departed, leaving just the three of them once again.
"Well. That was useful,” Raj commented dryly. He straightened from his casual slouch to put both elbows on the table. “So tell me, gentlemen, why exactly was Sarah Stratton here tonight?"
Scavetti swung around and stared at him for a few silent minutes, and then shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. “She called, said she had an in with the local honcho.” He gave Raj a skeptical look. “Your boss, I assume."
"One would think. What's Blackwood's involvement?"
"Fuck if I know. He seems to like you well enough. Maybe you should ask him yourself, Raj."
Raj studied Scavetti lazily, thinking how easy it would be to grab the foulmouthed detective some night and make him disappear. Would anyone miss him, he wondered. Could even a Neanderthal like Scavetti have people who loved him?
"Are you married, Detective?” he asked. “You have a wife? A family?"
Scavetti regarded him suspiciously. “What the hell do you care?"
Raj shrugged. “Just curious."
"Well, leave me the f**k out of your curiosity. And if you want to know more about Stratton, you can ask her yourself. Asshole."
Felder rolled his eyes. “How about we get on with the briefing, Tony? Raj here isn't the only one with a social life. I've got a late date with my next ex-wife."
Scavetti brooded a few minutes longer, staring blankly at the wall. And then with no outward warning, both hands slapped the table, rattling Felder's already chipped coffee cup and knocking over a couple of unopened water bottles. “Fuck, yeah!” he announced. “Let's do this."
He stood and stomped over to a whiteboard which ran along the entire far wall. There was a roughly five by six foot piece of thick poster stock leaning against the board, and Scavetti moved it aside to reveal a series of photographs and notes taped to the whiteboard itself. “We've got three women over the last month who match the profile,” he said, suddenly all business. “All three missing, no bodies found yet."
"What is the profile,” Raj asked curiously.
Scavetti gave him a dirty look, but said, “We're going on the assumption that there's a vampire link for now, so that's f**king number one. The rest is the usual—age, appearance, access. William Cowens's daughter, Patricia, eighteen and single, was last seen at a vamp party. It was an open affair, advertised in the dorms and various places on campus, on bulletin boards and so on. We spoke to her airhead roommate who says she persuaded Cowens to go to the party at the last minute, that she'd never been to one before. At this point, we don't think she was specifically targeted. There've been no calls to her father, no ransom demand, not even with all the publicity—which doesn't say much for her f**king chances. Unless one of you guys has her?” he asked with faked curiosity. “I understand you keep ‘em alive for a few days."
Raj didn't bother to respond, and Scavetti continued with a grunt. “Anyway, for now, it looks like a random snatch—she left the party early and, as far as we can tell, alone, and no one has seen her since. We do know she never made it back to the dorm.
"Going back to the most recent incident before Cowens . . .” He moved down the board to the picture of another young woman who looked older than Patricia Cowens, but not by much. “Regina Aiello, twenty-one years old, living with her mother who filed the missing report. Mother says she went out with friends, kind of a girl's night out before someone's wedding that weekend. We talked to the friends who say they all went to a f**king blood house—"
"That's apparently the in thing for bachelorette parties these days,” Dan interrupted to add. “No more Chippendale dancers, I guess. Now it's vampires."