Chapter 4

..CHAPTER FOUR

Melanie woke sometime in the afternoon. Peter was still out cold, as usual. She left the dark room, shaking her head at his eccentricity to being kept in the dark. She remember similar days from her college days and morning hangovers. Checking her clock as she made her coffee, she turned on the radio and caught the news at noon broadcast.
"…and another mysterious disappearance last night, a west side woman left her date in a mid-town eatery and fled into the night. Police were called by the distraught boyfriend when the woman failed to return home. The police, at this time, do not have a suspect.
Mel thought of the strange dark man in the bar last night and shivered. She knew there couldn't possibly be a connection, the guy was creepy and she had just let her imagination get the best of her. Vampires, ya right! It really did seem a foolish idea in the light of day. This new disappearance was probably just a woman taking off to make a statement. At least, she hoped it was. She didn't even want to think otherwise, not now, because there really is a killer out there. And as for her foolish notions, who would she call to voice her suspicions? Hello, officer, yes, I may have some information of a stranger in town and he is a vampire and so he may have abducted that poor woman who disappeared. He might even be the killer of that kid down the street from my place. Ya, like that'll happen; not. They'd hang up and dial the nearest nut factory and send out the guys in the white coats for her.
Sergeant Menot was outside the condo where the latest victim had lived, it was quiet and seemed deserted. The boyfriend was next to him in the car, looking nervous. Menot had to wonder if a killer was sitting beside him after all. No, more likely the guy was unnerved just like he was, this cloak and dagger and hiding out here was trying, to say the least. "You say she hasn't lived here since she moved in with you six months ago, only kept it rather than break the lease?" "Yes," he was saying, "she did try to sublet but the landlord kept denying the applicants so she was stuck with it. I ah… appreciate you coming here with me. I felt stupid just asking but the answering machine isn't even working. I know if she had come here just to teach me some kind of lesson, she'd at least have wanted to hear what I had to say to her on her machine. And it doesn't make sense I can't reach the Super either, I have never known that guy to not be here somewhere, answering the phones or returning calls from his tenants. I don't think I could have come alone if what you fear is true. But she just can't be dead, she can't." He shook his head in denial. "Well, maybe she is just holed up in there hiding out to be alone." Said Menot, though he, himself, was unconvinced. "In any case, you were right to call us. I wanted to sit here a while before calling a team in though, and now, since it's obvious no one is here, we can call from inside if there is anything they need to document. Maybe just looking through her things or seeing how she left it will give us some answers." Looking at his watch, he added, "We've waited long enough and no one has come or gone. This would have been easier if the Super was around." "I'm sorry I don't have a key. After she moved in with me I didn't need one." He held up his hands in defeat. "Well, then I will just have to risk showing you how we, the police, make due without one. No, not true, just this policeman." He smiled then, for what he thought might have been days.
They entered the building from the rear. They had knocked, rang the bell and knocked louder to no avail. Menot dug out a small leather case that he had bought at a police auction many years before. From it he pulled to of the burglar tools for lock picking and had the door open in seconds. As soon as the door opened the smell hit him; death, and fairly fresh from the way it smelled. He knew very well how much worse it could have been. He put out his hand, gesturing the man to wait there and moved into the room. He didn't need lights, the streetlight provided plenty through a nearby window. She wasn't in the living room; the smell was coming from his left, the bedroom, he suspected. He entered it slowly with his gun drawn and saw her half on and half off the bed. There was little blood, which didn't surprise him; she did have a wound on her chest that was wide open, that did. The blood on her chest, the only place there was any told him that her heart had been torn out while she still lived, though at that time there was less blood than there should be. He checked the room to make sure the killer was not hiding, instinct told him it wasn't necessary, but he had learned never to rely on instinct alone. And then there was the nature of this killer, it nagged at him day and night and yet he refused to believe that the killer could be anything other than human. Checking her neck showed him the same wounds as on the others and no dagger in the gut of this one. What did the dagger mean? It had to mean something.

To Be Continued....

Melanie woke sometime in the afternoon. Peter was still out cold, as usual. She left the dark room, shaking her head at his eccentricity to being kept in the dark. She remember similar days from her college days and morning hangovers. Checking her clock as she made her coffee, she turned on the radio and caught the news at noon broadcast. "…and another mysterious disappearance last night, a west side woman left her date in a mid-town eatery and fled into the night. Police were called by the distraught boyfriend when the woman failed to return home. The police, at this time, do not have a suspect. Mel thought of the strange dark man in the bar last night and shivered. She knew there couldn't possibly be a connection, the guy was creepy and she had just let her imagination get the best of her. Vampires, ya right! It really did seem a foolish idea in the light of day. This new disappearance was probably just a woman taking off to make a statement. At least, she hoped it was. She didn't even want to think otherwise, not now, because there really is a killer out there. And as for her foolish notions, who would she call to voice her suspicions? Hello, officer, yes, I may have some information of a stranger in town and he is a vampire and so he may have abducted that poor woman who disappeared. He might even be the killer of that kid down the street from my place. Ya, like that'll happen; not. They'd hang up and dial the nearest nut factory and send out the guys in the white coats for her. Sergeant Menot was outside the condo where the latest victim had lived, it was quiet and seemed deserted. The boyfriend was next to him in the car, looking nervous. Menot had to wonder if a killer was sitting beside him after all. No, more likely the guy was unnerved just like he was, this cloak and dagger and hiding out here was trying, to say the least. "You say she hasn't lived here since she moved in with you six months ago, only kept it rather than break the lease?" "Yes," he was saying, "she did try to sublet but the landlord kept denying the applicants so she was stuck with it. I ah… appreciate you coming here with me. I felt stupid just asking but the answering machine isn't even working. I know if she had come here just to teach me some kind of lesson, she'd at least have wanted to hear what I had to say to her on her machine. And it doesn't make sense I can't reach the Super either, I have never known that guy to not be here somewhere, answering the phones or returning calls from his tenants. I don't think I could have come alone if what you fear is true. But she just can't be dead, she can't." He shook his head in denial. "Well, maybe she is just holed up in there hiding out to be alone." Said Menot, though he, himself, was unconvinced. "In any case, you were right to call us. I wanted to sit here a while before calling a team in though, and now, since it's obvious no one is here, we can call from inside if there is anything they need to document. Maybe just looking through her things or seeing how she left it will give us some answers." Looking at his watch, he added, "We've waited long enough and no one has come or gone. This would have been easier if the Super was around." "I'm sorry I don't have a key. After she moved in with me I didn't need one." He held up his hands in defeat. "Well, then I will just have to risk showing you how we, the police, make due without one. No, not true, just this policeman." He smiled then, for what he thought might have been days. They entered the building from the rear. They had knocked, rang the bell and knocked louder to no avail. Menot dug out a small leather case that he had bought at a police auction many years before. From it he pulled to of the burglar tools for lock picking and had the door open in seconds. As soon as the door opened the smell hit him; death, and fairly fresh from the way it smelled. He knew very well how much worse it could have been. He put out his hand, gesturing the man to wait there and moved into the room. He didn't need lights, the streetlight provided plenty through a nearby window. She wasn't in the living room; the smell was coming from his left, the bedroom, he suspected. He entered it slowly with his gun drawn and saw her half on and half off the bed. There was little blood, which didn't surprise him; she did have a wound on her chest that was wide open, that did. The blood on her chest, the only place there was any told him that her heart had been torn out while she still lived, though at that time there was less blood than there should be. He checked the room to make sure the killer was not hiding, instinct told him it wasn't necessary, but he had learned never to rely on instinct alone. And then there was the nature of this killer, it nagged at him day and night and yet he refused to believe that the killer could be anything other than human. Checking her neck showed him the same wounds as on the others and no dagger in the gut of this one. What did the dagger mean? It *had* to mean something.
To Be Continued....

On to the OPP files?