Vampire "Unseen" (Vampire "Untitled" Trilogy Book 2) (23 page)

His face.

His picture.

The two most common images were his passport photo and one from what looked like a university Christmas party. He’d never seen it before. Then there was a composite sketch of him with a beard, the Joseph Frady disguise. If he’d lacked the foresight to change his appearance yesterday he would have been arrested by now.

A press conference came on. Two British policemen and a Romanian. They said they were investigating murders in Brasov, McGovern was the prime suspect.

Holy shit!

When it’s out of sight it’s out of mind. Never had he thought that the Romanian investigation would be chasing so closely behind him. They wanted him in Romania. They wanted him in Britain. They had his face. He was on television. He was on the cover of newspapers. They were launching a national manhunt to catch him.

The Romanian officer was talking in very good, soft English. He was explaining that he was the one who discovered Nisha but was deliberately avoiding talking about how he’d tracked him down.

“Bastard. You fucking bastard. You followed me from Romania? You got right up behind me?” Paul pulled both knives and paced the room, talking to himself. “You piece of fucking shit. I should find you and fuck you up.” He swung the knives, running through rehearsed attack methods. “I should have let you find me so I could fucking kill you, you, you filthy dirty cunt.” His name was captioned. Romanian Detective Corneliu Latis.

Paul gripped the knife handles fiercely when the British police officer said, “Miss Khumari owes her life to Detective Latis.”

Bastards. Fucking bastards. He sat on the bed, dropped his knives beside him and held his head in his hands. He wanted to throw the television through the window. Nisha was alive because this Romanian manhunter had tracked him all the way from Brasov. He was close, he had gotten to right behind him and discovered Nisha. That was a completely unpredictable event. He had made every effort to ensure Nisha couldn’t escape only for this police cunt to come and find her.

How the hell had he done it?

Paul went out. He wanted fresh air. He wanted to move and walk. He looked through every newspaper at the local library and scoured the stories. The details were light. The newspapers didn’t have much information except the obvious. He had kidnapped Nisha, he had drugged her, chained her in a basement, assaulted her and broke her skull. Also, a murdered male in the basement next door. Police are treating them as connected.

Paul McGovern.

Extremely dangerous.

Do not approach.

Call 999.

He left the library at lunchtime and registered with a doctor’s surgery. He wanted to feign illness and get a doctor’s signature on a prescription that he could forge to authorise new passport photos. He had to get a new passport. It was essential now that he fled. He couldn’t stay in one place. He couldn’t let them get any closer. By this evening almost everyone in Britain would know his face.

He had to apply for the new passport even though the background was thin. He had to hope the issuing staff were loose in their diligence. Do they check all applications one hundred percent? Do they give a cursory glance to most and only scrutinise those looking like Muslim terrorists? He had to do it. The police were too close and the public were being conditioned to search for him. The endgame had begun.

----- X -----

“I understand you were on television today,” Noica said.

“Yes. They’ve made a big deal out of McGovern, they’re looking high and low for him now. Look, something I discovered is he’s doing medical research. He was searching for data online, but he took a job at UCL which is a medical university...”

“...I studied at UCL,” Noica interrupted.

“Oh... well, I’m still waiting for some info-share through Europol but what I know so far is he was employed as an aquarium technician but he was spending his free time looking at medical texts in the library for private research. The locals are checking the details and will release notes on what they find. They also found his personal computer and they’re checking his internet history but I’ve been told it is loaded with medical texts also. It’s nice that we found the computer, but the downside is we were hoping to track him when he used it.”

Noica made a sound that was halfway between a groan and a hum of acknowledgement.

“There are some leads in play, the most promising is someone called in saying they had rented a room to McGovern. He was long gone before the police arrived but what I’ve heard is on the walls are large pieces of paper filled with notes. It sounds like what we saw him do in Noua, you remember how he was writing stuff on the walls.”

“Yes, it was his story project.”

“It was, but what he’s writing here is apparently split into two groups. The headers on the pages are Neurology and Violence and the other says Psychology. I haven’t seen these yet, they’re being photographed and the locals say they will share... But what I do know is under the psychology banner he has written in big bold words, ‘Sublimation, for Ildico.’ Now that’s got to be the Popescu girl.”

“Without doubt it means her. That is interesting.”

“Lucian, what does sublimation mean?”

There was a pause on the telephone. Corneliu imagined Noica formulating the words in his head, finding an easy explanation. “It means he’s trying,” Noica answered finally. “He’s trying very hard to do the right thing. But it can’t be. Sublimation, a man like that? McGovern cannot be capable of such high-level reasoning.”

“Lucian, this guy is not following your script. He isn’t some crazy lunatic howling at the moon. He’s a thoughtful, careful man. When he kidnapped the Khumari girl he did it with chloroform he synthesised from household chemicals. He had found a way to steal and adopt a new identity. He built an electronic warning system out of mobile phones and he used all of these skills to make a girl vanish into thin air like it was a magic trick. Chemistry, electronics, disguise and evasion. He is not some lunatic, Lucian. He is intelligent, he’s extremely resourceful and he is leaving nothing to chance.”

Noica went silent.

“Now tell me, Lucian. What does sublimation mean?”

“Sublimation comes from old Freudian ideas of the four ways people respond when under intense psychological strain. We call them pathological, immature, neurotic and mature. A pathological response to stress is denial, to pretend it isn’t happening. An immature response could be to behave passive-aggressively or to act out like a child having a tantrum. Neurotic responses are things like repression, intellectualisation, or withdrawal. But sublimation... Sublimation belongs to the mature defence mechanisms. It means to channel the negative emotions or stresses towards something good. To utilise that negative energy in a positive way.”

“I don’t get it, Lucian. Why is McGovern writing that?”

“There is a famous German novel about sublimation called Der Tod in Venedig, Death in Venice. It’s the story of a man who becomes sexually obsessed by a beautiful young boy, he is consumed by lust and suffocating desire but finds a way to sublimate his feelings into writing poetry. That’s what it means. McGovern is trying to sublimate his negative thinking towards something good.”

“And this good that he’s working towards... would be Ildico Popescu?”

“I imagine so.”

“Has he had any contact with her?”

“I don’t know,” Noica replied.

“Check, Lucian. Get Brasov police to check thoroughly and see if they can monitor any contacts she has from now on, telephone, emails, whatever. McGovern likes her enough to write her name on his bedroom wall, so I would expect him to contact her or to have tried to contact her.”

“Yes, I’ll see to that... it’s just... Cornel.”

“Yes?”

“Be very careful. I’ve only come across one other person like this... In fact, this goes outside our range of experience. I’ve never seen this and I cannot stress strongly enough how dangerous McGovern could be. When Bogdan arrives tonight, I’ll instruct him to tell you everything.”

“Bogdan? Is this the guy coming from America you mentioned?”

“Yes, Bogdan Pascu. He has experience. I’ll have him tell you everything. Full disclosure”

The call ended but the words were left hanging in the air. ‘I’ll have him tell you everything. Full disclosure’. It implied that Noica hadn’t been forthcoming. McGovern was crazy and dangerous. Full disclosure? What more could there be to know?

----- X -----

Corneliu waited in the hotel bar. He sipped a very large whisky whilst backed into a corner alcove. He had nothing to do, no book or magazine to read. At Noica’s request he’d spent the day parsing everything that had happened into chronological order. It had taken longer than he imagined and he found himself rushing and adding less detail the longer he worked at it just to get to the end.

A man in his forties approached the banquette, shaved head, a dark brown leather jacket, black trousers. “Buna,” the man said, “te Corneliu?” Are you Corneliu?

“Da,” Cornel replied.

“Buna,” the hand came out to shake, “eu sunt Bogdan Pascu.” There was a smile with it, a warm textured tone to the voice and what appeared to be a sincere attempt at friendship, but something about the man was off-putting. Corneliu shook hands, the skin of his hand was rough, the handshake grip tight. Bogdan stared straight at him with a thousand yard stare.

“Doctor Noica said you were travelling in from America,” Corneliu opened as conversation.

“Lucian... Yes. He sent a lot of information that I’ve been trying to read through on the journey.” He rubbed his eye and yawned slightly. “Excuse me. Long day of travel. I hear you almost stumbled onto Paul McGovern.”

“Almost.”

“Hmmmm, don’t do that again. He’ll kill you. Leave him to me if you think you’re near him.”

“It was an accident,” Corneliu said a little offended that Bogdan had decided he couldn’t handle the situation. “You think he would really kill me?”

Bogdan nodded. The expression serious. “Yes… Yes, he would.”

“Lucian said that he would instruct you to tell me everything.”

Bogdan nodded. “He told me that. He said I’m to give full disclosure. I’m not surprised. It sounds like you’re in at the deep end.” Bogdan waived a waiter over and ordered a drink of fine and expensive Russian vodka. “We should drink the good stuff while Lucian’s paying, eh?” He ribbed at Corneliu.

“Sure... I guess.”

“What do I need to know about McGovern that I didn’t know twelve hours ago?” Bogdan asked.

Corneliu talked about the nationwide TV coverage, something that made Bogdan wince a little and furrow his brow. When Corneliu talked about the cell-phone alarm system Bogdan stared at him directly, fiercely. When he explained the homemade chloroform he looked away with an unfocused gaze. When he talked about McGovern doing medical research he pulled his hands together like he was praying and clasped his mouth and nose between them with his elbows rested on the table.

“Fuck... Fuck... Fuck!”

Corneliu sipped his drink. “I think that’s what Lucian was thinking too. He was less vocal, but I sensed he was spooked by it.”

“Do you know why?” Bogdan asked with a pensive glare.

“I assume that’s what you’re going to tell me. Full disclosure.”

“McGovern shouldn’t be able to do that. What should happen is his brain turns to mush. Along the way he starts to lose his memory, his sense of right and wrong, his ability to reason. His higher brain functions should fall away. At the same time he will become more and more violent, but as the violence increases, his mind deteriorates until there’s nothing left. These things should turn into animals.”

“These things?”

“That’s right, things. Don’t think of them as human any more. McGovern especially. He is gone, he is lost. Think of him as a crazy dog, that needs putting down.”

“Is that how you see McGovern, like a dog?”

“No... No, he’s not a dog, not if he’s doing what you say he is. He’s a tiger, a thoughtful, cunning, brooding and vicious thing. And you... you and everybody else, you’re kittens against him.”

Corneliu folded his arms. “You sound very sure.”

“Have you ever seen one of these things?”

“Why do you call them, Things?”

“You ever seen a man that has become a vampire?”

Corneliu shook his head. “No. never. And for the record I don’t believe in vampires.”

“Well, I’ve hunted six of them. And I’ve caught all six. One of them is The Ukrainian.” He paused to see if Corneliu understood. He hadn’t. “Jesus Christ. Lucian sent you out unprepared. That’s not like him. I’m sure it was an oversight, we suspected McGovern would head for the United States which is why I was there. Lucian would never have knowingly put you in harms way.”

“I’m sorry,” Corneliu said. “I really don’t understand what you’re saying. Please, try and just explain what you’re thinking. Simple, make it simple.”

“Simple. Here is simple. Lucian Noica is the number one expert on this phenomena. That’s what it’s called. Phenomena. It’s so random we don’t even have a real name for it. Have you been to the institute?”

Corneliu nodded. “Yes, once.”

“Did you see the church at the centre?” Corneliu nodded. “Well, in that church, in the crypt, is the source. Nobody knows what it is. We can’t find bacteria, virus, radiation, nothing to explain it. But when men are taken into that crypt they change. They start losing their minds and they become bloodthirsty lunatics. Now, sometimes, for reasons that nobody understands, the source disappears from the crypt and this can happen for weeks and sometimes months at a time. Men are taken into the crypt and nothing happens, but low and behold, somewhere else, men start becoming vampires. There are a few hotspots around Romania and even into Bulgaria, but one of the key hotspots is Noua on the outskirts of Brasov, right where our friend McGovern was.”

Corneliu felt a cold shudder. “You say men are taken into the crypt, do you mean they are exposed deliberately?”

Bogdan stared earnestly. “What do you think Lucian is doing out there? Did you notice the dead town you drive through to get there?”