Kiss of Death (11 page)

“Rod Ferrell. Florida.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that one.” She shakes her head. “Only seventeen, wasn't he? And the girlfriend watched or helped?”

“That's the one. There was some debate as to exactly what her role was.” I close my laptop. “So, how'd you guys go?”

“Good.” Carey passes me back my recorder.

“What did you find out?” I cue the recorder back to the beginning.

Sloan and Carey are both looking at me with big-ass smiles on their faces. They must have something.

“They recognized Sherry,” Sloan says. “They think she was at Bar Sinister a couple of weeks ago.”

“If she was there a couple of weeks ago, maybe Todd was telling the truth and she was there on Saturday night, too.” I bite my lip. “I haven't heard back from them yet about the video footage.”

Sloan starts the car. “It also confirms the link between Sherry and the Goth culture. And I'm interested enough in this angle now to interview Anton Ward.”

Does this mark a turning point for Sloan? Maybe now she'll shift her focus from personal motivation to the wider vampire angle.

“We do have the puncture marks.” I buckle up again.

“Yes, but I still think we need to keep an eye on Todd Fischer and check out this professor.”

“Fair enough. So, Ward first and then on to Carrington's afternoon class?”

“Yup.” She puts the car into Drive. “I'm looking forward to meeting this Anton Ward character. Between Riley and Davidson calling him master and acting like he's some sort of god, and your reports of him last night…”

I give a little half laugh, half snort. “And I can't wait to hear what
you
make of him.”

“I guess you won't be sitting in on this interview, either.”

“Sidelined again, I'm afraid.” I pause, fingering the recorder. “I'm going to play this now.”

“Knock yourself out.” She pulls back onto Poinsettia and heads northward. “Time to see what our two-hundred-year-old vampire's got to say.”

“Two hundred?” I raise my eyebrows.

“According to Riley and Davidson, their master is two hundred years old.”

Carey shakes his head. “From the file we've got on this guy, he's just a spoiled rich kid who uses his charm to gather followers.”

On paper, yes, but in person…

“Well, he's certainly charming.” Ward unnerved me last night, mostly because I found him so seductive. And I wasn't the only one.

“He uses his charm to his advantage. But just because we can see that, doesn't mean his ‘disciples' can.” Sloan marks air quotes.

“I'm not a disciple or potential follower but I still found him charming.” Everything about Ward is appealing—from the way he holds himself and dresses to that mysterious charisma. I'm excited by the prospect of seeing Ward again, but I'm also into the psychology behind After Dark. “Group dynamics is fascinating stuff.”

“Whatever gets your motor running, Anderson.”

I laugh, realizing I'd said it with a little too much enthusiasm, like a computer geek talking about code. Even though it's still unclear whether After Dark is a new religious movement or not, the prospect makes the case very interesting. And Ward's magnetism intrigues me even more.

Once I press Play, the recording starts with static, and then Sloan and Carey identifying themselves as LAPD.

“What do you want anyway?” The voice is very deep and sounds more than a little frustrated. Have the police been hounding him? It seems unlikely over a simple trespass charge. But they did investigate After Dark, so maybe Davidson and Riley got sick of questions.

“That's Davidson,” Carey says and we take a right into Hollywood Boulevard.

I nod and listen as Sloan answers Davidson's question.

“We're investigating an incident over at Temescal Park.”

“So naturally you thought of us.”

“Something like that.” Sloan pauses. “Mind if we come in and ask a few questions?”

“Do I mind? Yes. But I've got nothing to hide, so come on in.”

I can hear movement as Sloan and Carey walk inside the apartment.

“So, what were you guys doing on Saturday night?” Sloan asks.

“Saturday?” It's Davidson again. “We watched
Queen of the Damned
on DVD—”

“—for the ninety-third time.” The second voice is much higher in pitch than Davidson's.

“Yup, that's right,” Davidson says. “Ninety-three times. And then we headed to Bar Sinister.”

“Is that a Goth club?” Sloan asks, even though she knew the name from our research yesterday. “Uh-huh.”

Carey clears his throat. “So, you guys are vampires?”

“We're donors.” Davidson again. Given he's more verbal than Riley, I'm thinking he's the dominant one.

“What does that mean, exactly?” Carey speaks slowly and sounds like he's genuinely interested.

Davidson answers Carey's question. “Someone who likes getting bitten by vampires.”

“And you're members of Anton Ward's After Dark group?” Sloan asks.

“Yes. That's our house, our clan.” This time it's Riley who responds.

“How many in the clan?”

“About twenty or so vamps plus ten donors like us.” Davidson again.

“Do you meet regularly? Hold meetings?” Sloan asks.

“Sure. We usually hang out at the clubs most weeks, plus we have a special meeting once a week at the master's pad.” Davidson lets out a whistle. “He's got one sweet pad.”

“But he
is
immortal,” Riley says. “He's had time to accrue stuff…money.”

“Anton Ward is immortal?” Sloan's tone is matter-of-fact.

“Sure. He's been around for ages,” Riley says. “Couple hundred years, I think. He's our master.”

“He made us.” Davidson's deep voice is almost somber.

“How?”

“The blood ritual.”

I pause the recording. “Maybe there was another blood ritual on Saturday night and Sherry was the sacrifice.”

Sloan nods. “It crossed my mind.”

I press Play and Sloan's voice resonates through the speaker. “And what exactly does the blood ritual involve?”

“It's complex. And sacred.” Again, Davidson's being very serious.

“Does it involve drinking blood? Human blood?”

“Of course, man,” Riley says. “From a donor.”

“The donors are willing? You're willing?” Sloan confirms.

“Of course.” Davidson again. “No one in After Dark would ever hurt someone, or bite an unwilling participant. It's not what we're about, and Anton disapproves. We all follow the rules.”

“Right on. The master's rules.”

I pause the recording again. “They sound like surfies.”

Sloan turns left onto N Bronson Avenue. “I know. It was bizarre.”

Carey spins around in his seat fully. “Their language and demeanor was like
Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure,
but their dress and nighttime activities sound more like…well,
Queen of the Damned
…to the ninety-third power.”

I press Play again.

“Either of you know this girl?” Sloan's obviously showing them the photo of Sherry Taylor.

After a considerable pause, Riley speaks. “I think I've seen her at Bar Sinister. Made-up, you know. Dark clothes, white makeup. She looked way hotter than she does in this photo.”

The photo we've chosen shows Sherry in form-fitting Antik jeans and a tight white top. The outfit shows off her figure, and her mum said it was typical of what Sherry would wear—designer jeans and a T-shirt or sweater. It's obviously not a look that appeals to Davidson and Riley.

“Where's Bar Sinister?” Sloan asks.

“Saturday nights in Cherokee Avenue.”

“You only seen her there once?”

“Yeah, think so,” Riley says. “She was with a black chick. But the black girl didn't quite fit in. Like she wasn't comfortable in the outfit. You know?”

“Sure. I know what you mean.” Sloan's voice is reassuring. “When did you see her there?”

“Couple of weeks ago.”

“What about this last Saturday night?”

“I'm not sure.” Riley pauses. “The week before, though, I think she was talking to Damien.”

“Really?” Davidson sounds surprised.

“Who's Damien?” Sloan asks. Again, although she knows they're probably talking about Damien Winters, she plays dumb.

There's silence for a bit before Riley responds. “We're not really supposed to talk about the dude, but he was part of our clan. Our master's right-hand man, really.”

Silence.

“And?” Carey prompts.

“About three months ago the master said Damien
wasn't part of After Dark anymore,” Davidson says. “And that he didn't want any of us to associate with him.”

“And have you?”

“No way, man,” Riley responds. “If Anton says Damien's not cool…he's off-limits.”

After a few beats of silence Carey says, “Hey, I like your shoes.”

“Thanks, man.”

“What size you take?”

“Eleven.” Riley sounds like he thinks he's having a normal chat about his shoes.

“What size are you, Larry?”

There's a moment's hesitation. “Ten. Why?”

But neither Carey nor Sloan answer the question. Instead Sloan asks them when they were last at Temescal Park or Topanga State Park.

A long pause before Davidson finally answers. “We stay out of the parks now. We know it's illegal. Your lot charged us with trespassing and all.”

“You weren't alone that night. Who else was with you?”

“Man, it's months ago. Why you on our backs again?”

“Sherry Taylor was found murdered in Temescal Park yesterday,” Sloan says.

“What? No way, man.” Davidson sounds shocked.

“You haven't seen it on the news?” Carey's disbelief is obvious.

“No. Besides, man, we were asleep when you came. Haven't had time to watch the news this morning yet. We're creatures of the night.”

“So, were you creatures of the night near Temescal Park Saturday night?” Sloan asks impatiently.

“No. No way you pinning this on us.” Davidson's voice is losing its smoothness.

“Relax, boys. We're just asking for a little help. A little cooperation.”

“Yeah, right. Then you lock us up.” Davidson's breathing is getting faster. “We're trying to live peaceful lives. Vampirism doesn't hurt anyone.”

“Well, someone got hurt on Saturday night…someone got killed.” There's silence and movement again; obviously Sloan is making a dramatic exit. “We'll be in touch, boys.” The word
boys
is said condescendingly, but it sits well on a strong woman in her fifties…sits well on Sloan.

The recording finishes.

“Well?” Carey asks.

“They said Sherry was at the bar with a black girl. It's got to be Desiree.”

Sloan nods. “My thoughts exactly. So why the hell didn't she tell us?” She shakes her head. “That girl's got some explaining to do.”

“Agreed.” I flick the ring on my little finger. “I doubt she'll be at class today, but maybe we can see her after Carrington?”

“Yup.”

We're silent for a little bit before Carey lets out a sigh. “I don't get the whole biting thing. And why would anyone want to get bitten like these donors?”

“It's not that different psychologically to bondage—one person likes being the person in power, the other likes being tied up and punished.”

He nods slowly. “I guess. But still, blood?”

I know what Carey means. But we see too much blood—enough for a few thousand lifetimes. And for us blood only means one thing…death.

Monday, 10:00 a.m.

W
hile Carey and Sloan interview Ward inside his mansion, I'm sitting in the car with my laptop, researching online.

It seems there have been a number of killers over time who have been dubbed “vampire” killers because of their thirst for blood—be it literal or figurative. Although unlike Rod Ferrell, who was dubbed a vampire killer simply because of his Gothic tendencies and his claim of being a five-hundred-year-old vampire, many of the cases throughout history do involve an actual thirst for blood. As far back as 1861, a French man by the name of Martin Dumollard was draining the blood of young girls. In 1878 Italian Eusebius Pieydagnelle murdered six women and drank blood from their necks. And 1912 saw the start of Peter Kurten's reign of terror, as he raped and killed people to drink their blood. When he was interviewed he admitted he was excited by blood.

Excitement and eroticism surrounding blood is a key element in the vampire mythology—vampires are somehow perceived as sexy. However, I doubt anyone would find these killers sexy—they are simply people
with an obsession for blood who have used that desire as a rationale for murder. And it hasn't been limited to men. In Santa Cruz in 1992, Deborah Finch stabbed a man twenty-seven times and then proceeded to drink his blood. And in Mexico, Magdalena Solis was part of a blood-drinking sex cult—with human sacrifices.

It's possible this last case is the most similar to ours, if our resident really did see a circle of candles. Was it a blood ritual? Some other kind of human sacrifice? Either way, it's still possible our killers have a fascination for blood without actually being active in the vampire subculture.

During my research one name keeps popping up as an expert on the subject—Jarrod Clark, a professor of Sociology at the University of Massachusetts in Boston. He's written a couple of books on America's real-life vampires and has also completed academic studies on the Goth subculture, vampire mythology and its modern-day manifestation. Sounds like he's my guy…or at least a starting point.

I call the university and ask to be put through to Clark, but introducing myself isn't quite enough to get me past his gatekeeper assistant.

“What's it regarding, please?”

“A case that I'd like his expertise on.”

“One moment.”

After about a minute's worth of torturous Muzak he comes on the line. “Professor Clark speaking.” His voice is nasal and I'm not sure if he's got a cold or if it's his regular voice. “Agent Anderson, is it?”

“That's correct.”

“How can I help you?”

“I'm working on a murder case here in L.A. that may be linked to vampires.”

“Go on.”

“Firstly, Professor Clark, I'd like your assurance that this conversation will be kept confidential.”

He pauses for a second. “Okay.”

“We're trying to keep certain case details out of the press and your cooperation is essential.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Yesterday morning a young woman was found murdered in a state park here in L.A. There are two definite puncture marks on her neck.”

“Go on.”

“We've identified a few groups, houses, of vampires in the area and we're investigating that as one line of inquiry.”

“I see. What would you like to know?”

Where do I start? So many questions, so many possible angles. “First off, the bite marks. People who believe they are vampires, do they get fake teeth or something of the sort?”

“Some do, yes. Some use their existing teeth, filing their canines to a point, some get caps, while others may invest in something less permanent, usually dentures. But vampirism is more about the blood than the biting and many vamps don't feel the need for this more…cosmetic addition.”

“Are these dentures or caps hard to come by?” This may be a good line of investigation for us.

“Not these days, no. Google it and you'll find a wealth of information.”

I move on. “Some of the things I've read indicate that vampirism is a condition, something you're born with. What's your take on that?”

“Nearly all of the blood-drinking subjects I've interviewed indicate an overwhelming need and desire for blood. They feel they would die, or at least be very sick, without it.”

“And are they?”

“Based on self-reporting, yes. Some claim if they don't have blood every day or every week, they become very ill. Common symptoms they describe include extreme lethargy, nausea, headaches and abdominal cramping.”

“This ever been checked out medically?”

“Of course.”

“And?”

“No underlying medical problem for these symptoms has been found.”

“So it's probably psychological?”

“I believe so, yes. Although that comment would outrage many of my test subjects.”

“I bet.” I take a breath. “What about Renfield's syndrome? I've found some info on that online.”

“Yes. So named after Dracula's insect-eating assistant, Renfield. It's a psychological disorder, which is hypothesized to start with a key childhood event that leads the sufferer to find blood exciting. Blood and this sense of excitement is later linked to sexual arousal. But I don't believe it's widely accepted in the psychological community.”

I make a mental note to see what the American Psychological Association and the psychology journals have to say on the subject.

“In terms of the medical side of things, I've done a little research and read about porphyria.”

“Yes, yes. A few people have proposed that the vampire mythology is based on people with the blood disorder porphyria. The disorder is treated with hemoglobin, hence the connection to drinking blood. Plus some sufferers are sensitive to light—and that gels with the vampire mythology, too. Problem is, if you drink blood it goes through the digestive tract and doesn't enter the bloodstream. It wouldn't alleviate porphyria symptoms at all.” He takes a breath. “It's also been linked to rabies, particularly if you're talking about how the mythology may have started
in the first place. Rabies ticks a few boxes, including hypersensitivity to light and smell, like garlic, a disturbance of normal sleep patterns, which may make the person nocturnal, and the disease can also give rise to the desire to bite others and to a bloody frothing of the mouth.”

“That is a good fit.”

“It's also possible people saw decomposing bodies and felt it was unnatural. I don't have to tell you, Agent Anderson, that a dead body is far from peacefully at rest. After death, gas fills the torso causing the body to swell, and blood can ooze from the nose and mouth. Industrial societies may have interpreted this as a vampire that had just fed, and was asleep in some way. After death, the skin and gums contract, making it look like the hair, nails and teeth have grown. And long nails and teeth, specifically canines, are associated with vampires.”

“Sounds like a plausible explanation, too.”

“Yes, although it certainly doesn't account for all the people nowadays who call themselves vampires. That's more of a cultural phenomenon.”

“How many people are we talking?”

“No one knows for sure. And while there are links between self-proclaimed vampires and the Gothic subculture, not every Goth thinks they're a vampire. There are hundreds of thousands of Goths but studies show only about ten percent of Goths are vampires.”

“And is there anything else that could account for a person's desire for blood?”

“There have been several medical studies on the subject, most looking at iron levels. And while iron levels in many modern-day vampires do tend to be at the lower end of the spectrum, they're usually within the normal range. Besides, if you ingest blood you don't absorb iron from it anyway.”

“And what about psi-vampires?” I'm particularly interested in Clark's response to this one. Before meeting
Ward last night, I would have said it was a load of rubbish. But his reaction to me has made me curious.

“Ah, yes.” For the first time the nasal monotone breaks and I can hear some amusement in his voice. “Some vampires claim to be able to feed off a person's energy. Their life force, if you will. Again, these individuals say that if they don't feed in this way they become sick and feel they would eventually die. That the hunger must be satisfied.”

“But you don't believe it.”

He's silent for a few seconds. “As much as some people would like to believe in vampires, my research has shown commonalities between my subjects.”

“Such as?”

“Most suffer from delusions of grandeur. Claiming to be a vampire makes them feel special. Likewise, these people are often in menial jobs, but in their other lives as vampires they have control and power. After all, vampires are supposed to be strong, hard to kill and powerful—these qualities attract individuals who don't feel any of these things in their day-to-day lives.”

That makes perfect sense from a psychological perspective. Certainly the psychologist in me would accept these various explanations of Clark's. But I can't dismiss Ward's attraction to me—and vice versa. It really was as though he could sense something different about me and some part of me responded to that. And surely if he simply had delusions of grandeur or this Renfield's syndrome he wouldn't pick up any vibe from me. Then again, if After Dark is an NRM and he's the leader, he could be a master conman, an expert at reading people and telling them what they want to hear—or, in my case, what I don't want to hear. If it is a farce, he probably assumes I would find it flattering.

I bring myself back to Clark. “Is it common for vampires to form houses?”

“Yes, absolutely. People with something in common are naturally drawn to one another, of course, particularly if they're in the marginal population.”

“How many people are usually in a house?”

“It depends on the context, but they can range from about three to hundreds.”

“And is there usually a definite leader?”

“Again, it depends on the house. Some have a group of elders and some are led by one individual.”

“Would it be accurate to describe a house as a cult?”

“Interesting.” He pauses. “To be honest, I don't know much about cults. What I can tell you, is that the research subjects I've interviewed all talk about a sense of community and solidarity with other members of the Goth or vampire community. To the point of feeling a bond with a stranger on the other side of the street if they're decked out in Goth clothing, too.”

“Sure would make it easier to build the kinds of relationships we see in a new religious movement.” I pause, thinking about other relevant questions. “And the donors, what are they like?”

“The donor nearly always has a sexual fetish for being dominated. For most vampires and donors the act of drinking blood and biting is extremely sexual. Again, I believe that's partly because of the mythology. They have been portrayed as highly sexual beings, whose desire for blood is similar to lust. I'm sure you've heard of the term ‘blood lust.'”

“Yes.”

He clears his throat. “In some ways vampires are the ultimate sexual fantasy for men, because a vampire can turn on women with a little
prick
.” He chuckles. “A prick of the
teeth
.” The joke falls a little flat. “But seriously, for many individuals in this subculture, biting or being bitten is a sexual turn-on. In fact, some of them need that as part of the sex act. A male may need it, or the prospect
of biting his mate or being bitten, to get or maintain an erection. And a woman may need it to orgasm.”

From a psychological perspective, vampirism is arguably a form of sexual sadism. By definition, sexual sadists derive pleasure from their partner's, or victim's, physical or psychological pain. Vampires are inflicting pain as they bite. Likewise, the donors could be seen as sadomasochists—people who need to
feel
pain to become sexually aroused or reach orgasm.

Unfortunately we're moving into a realm—sexual sadism—that I know too much about through casework. And my experiences have been extreme: serial killers who need to kill and dominate in order to become sexually aroused. The first time I heard of semen being found in a stab wound I was shocked. But now, not much shocks me. Sometimes I'd prefer to be ignorant, but most of the time my knowledge of the sick minds out there motivates me.

“Would you say vampires are dangerous, Professor Clark?”

“It depends on the individual. You're dealing with a person or persons who believe they
must
drink blood to survive. Maybe their usual session went wrong, or maybe they intentionally drained enough blood from this girl to kill her.”

“It's possible it's escalation.” Many criminals escalate—from robbery to armed robbery, from rape to murder. “Maybe our perps have escalated from taking small amounts of blood from their donor to taking too much. But we're talking a lot of blood.”

“Studies have shown that most vampires actually only drink about a hundred milliliters of their donor's blood. And I imagine it'd take a lot more than that to kill someone.”

“Yes.”

“Would you like me to come to L.A.? I'd be happy to
look at your houses of vampires and offer an opinion.” He gives a little sniff. “It's good research for me.”

“That's very kind of you, but I'd like to keep it strictly law enforcement at the moment.” We rarely bring in civilian consultants, and while I'm interested in the professor's knowledge, he doesn't need to be on the ground.

A beat of silence. “Well, let me know if you change your mind. It could be unofficial…and I'd pay for all my expenses, of course. I sure could use some warmer weather.” A wheezy chuckle resonates down the phone line.