"The others didn't realize she was missing,” Tony raised his voice slightly over his partner and kept talking. “Until the mother started calling around the next day. Apparently several of her group peeled away during the festivities to do God knows what, and they just assumed Aiello had done the same. The mother says she didn't know they were going to a blood house and seemed pretty shocked by the idea. Talking to the girl's friends, I get the impression Aiello wasn't exactly a player."
Raj listened with half an ear to the facts—interviews with Aiello's friends and so on—but pushed away from the table and stood, walking over to the board where he studied the pictures of the missing women. Trisha Cowens's disappearance might be questionable—those ridiculous vamp parties had nothing to do with anything truly Vampire—but Aiello disappearing from a blood house was troubling.
Raj frowned and kept reading as Scavetti's expletive-laced recitation moved on to the next woman, the first one taken, as far as they knew. Martha Polk, nineteen, engaged to be married, but living with her parents. She was employed by an upscale catering company and had worked a private party downtown, after which several people, including some of the wait staff, went to another of the blood houses.
Raj saw a definite pattern developing, but whether it was vampires or someone who wanted it to look like vampires was the big question. Not that everyone went right home from the blood houses. Scavetti wasn't far off on that point. When a vampire found a tasty and amenable partner, it wasn't unusual for the two of them to spend a few days together, especially on a weekend. The very young woman who'd been lounging around Krystof's office earlier was a good example. But Polk had been gone nearly a month and that was far too long.
"Polk's group have all developed f**king amnesia about the night in question,” Scavetti was saying. “Not one of them will say for sure that Polk was with them at the blood house, but they won't say she wasn't either. Apparently her fiance's the jealous type and no one wants to pony up and get her in trouble. Like she's not in f**king trouble already."
Raj studied the young woman's picture, which was from her work photo ID. She seemed too young to be getting married. Her face was open and expressive, with a big smile and brown hair that was swept into a bouncy looking ponytail.
"And then there's Dr. Estelle Edwards,” Scavetti continued. “She fits the time frame, disappearing about a week before Polk, and there's a vamp connection, but she's older than the others and travels in radically different circles. She's a research MD at the university."
Raj moved down to Edward's profile, which was set apart from the rest. He leaned closer, straining to read someone's uneven handwriting. He frowned. Her husband said she'd gone out to meet a local vampire connection? What the hell was that about?
He shifted his gaze once again to scan the pictures pinned across the top of the board. Scavetti was right. Estelle Edwards stood out. She was only in her late thirties, but with her carefully coiffed and highlighted blond hair, and her well-fleshed face, she appeared much older, almost matronly. Each of the three others was petite and dark-haired, with a youthful ripeness to them that Raj recognized as the kind of women who many vamps—including him—enjoyed feeding from. That ripeness gave them a special glow, softening their cheeks and plumping their lips into a pouty fullness that invited a vampire to crush them with his mouth and sip at the juice of life.
He turned back to the image of Estelle Edwards. Everything about her said settled, married, matron. She was attractive enough, but she'd never have turned heads the way the other three did.
"What kind of research?” Raj asked, interrupting Scavetti's flow.
The detective looked over with a predictable scowl which transformed to quick interest when he saw the picture Raj was looking at. “I'm not sure. You remember, Dan?"
"Yeah.” Felder was flipping through his notes. “Uh . . . hematology?"
"Blood,” Raj said unhappily.
"Her husband said she's been trying to get funding for a study of vampires,” Felder added. “Wants to figure out whatever it is that makes them—” He jerked a look at Raj, as if he'd forgotten for a moment there was a real vampire in the room with him. “That is, why you all live so long and everything."
"A dangerous subject,” Raj said thoughtfully. “How did she plan to do it without a test subject?"
"What do you mean?"
He turned all the way around and looked between the two detectives, trying to decide how much to say. “I mean it's hard to study blood without a sample, and no vampire would have cooperated, not willingly anyway. Or unless he had a death wish."
"Why not?"
"We don't share,” Raj said flatly. “How do you know she's part of this case? Maybe she pressured a vampire who didn't want to cooperate and got killed for her efforts."
"We're not sure she is, actually. Like Tony says, the timing fits, and there's a definite vamp connection, but for the rest of it . . .” Felder shrugged. “You might be right about some vamp getting pissed and taking her out, but her husband was pretty insistent that she'd made contact with someone in the vampire community. Someone who was willing to cooperate in her research. And he told us she'd already met whoever it was at least once before."
"Did this supposed contact have a name?"
Scavetti snorted a dismissive laugh. “I asked him the same thing. He says she's very secretive about her work. We took a hard f**king look at the husband, I'll tell you, but I don't think there's anything there. As in nothing's there. I got the impression they don't spend that much time together. No heat, if you know what I mean."
"He's a doc at the University too,” Felder added. “Heads up a big psychiatric clinic or something. He seemed awfully certain his wife was going to get her samples, though. Says she had drug companies lining up to sponsor her. A lot of money, too."
"How much money?” Raj asked curiously.
"The good doctor almost choked on his own tongue trying to avoid answering that question, but I got him to admit we're talking well into the tens of millions."
"Interesting,” Raj said, concealing his rising concern. “I'll check into that angle for you,” he said. “Someone may have been playing her along, either human or vampire, and if that's true, I'll find him. Or her. I'd like to talk to Edwards's husband,” he said. “And maybe visit her lab."
"I'll set something—” Felder started to say, but Scavetti interrupted, ignoring his partner's look of surprise.
"That's not gonna happen, Gregor. We appreciate the cooperation and all, but I can't have you contaminating my case, going around talking to people, muddying up the investigation."
Raj didn't bother arguing. It no longer mattered what the detective did or didn't want. Krystof had sent him here to cooperate with the police in their investigation and he'd done so. But Raj had assumed going in that there was no vampire involved in these crimes, that all of this cooperation was just for show. He'd learned enough tonight to make him doubt that assumption, and that meant any real cooperation with the authorities was now over. If vampires were involved, it was an internal matter and it would be handled accordingly. If Edwards's husband was right and a vampire was providing blood for this research—well, there was only one possible outcome for that vampire and any humans involved with him. And that outcome probably wouldn't be acceptable to the human authorities.