Victoria Nelson - Blood Lines Part 14

"The only difference between the two cases is that the people at the museum spent three days close to it while Trembley saw it for maybe three minutes." "So maybe it takes time and proximity to mess with someone's head." Vicki chewed thoughtfully on the end of her pencil for a moment then spit it out and added, "I wonder why it killed that custodian?"

Celluci shrugged. "Because it could? Maybe it was just flexing its muscles after being cooped up for so long."

"Maybe it was hungry." Henry leaned forward to make his point. "The custodian just happened to be closest when it came fully awake."

"Then what did it eat?" Celluci sneered. "There wasn't a mark on that body and there sure as s.h.i.t wasn't anything missing."

Henry sat back and let the shadows in the corner of the living room cover him again. "That's not quite accurate. When the custodian was found, he was missing his life."

"And you think this mummyate it?"

"Mortals have always had legends of those who extend their own lives by devouring the lives of others."

"Yeah, and those arelegends ."

The shadows couldn't hide Henry's pointed smile. "So am I. So, for that matter, are mummies who walk.

And demons. And werewolves..."

"All right, all right! I get the idea." Celluci shoved one hand up through his hair. He really hated all this supernatural bulls.h.i.t. Why him? Why not Detective Henderson? Henderson wore a crystal on a leather thong, for Christ's sake. And how come before Vicki got mixed up with Fitzroy the closest thing to a supernatural occurrence in the city was when the Leafs managed to win two in a row?Just because you don't see something doesn't mean it's not there . Okay, so he knew the answer to that one. He sighed and wondered how many previously unsolved crimes could be attributed to ghoulies and ghosties and things that went b.u.mp in the night. As much as he might want to, he couldn't blame this whole mess on Fitzroy. "So, why did it kill Dr. Rax?"

"It was still hungry and Dr. Rax came into the workroom alone."

"But it must've known that two bodies dying in the same place the same way would start an investigation.

Why go to all the trouble to hide its tracks and then do something so stupid?'"

"Dr. Rax discovered it as it was leaving and it overreacted."

"Oh, great," Vicki rolled her eyes, "an impulsive mummy." She yawned and resettled her gla.s.ses with the end of her pencil. "At least we know it can make mistakes. Unfortunately, it looks like its G.o.d survived as well."

Celluci's brows climbed for his hairline. "And how do we know that?"

"Last night at the museum..."

"Wait a minute," Celluci held up his hand. "You went to the museum last night? After closing? You broke into the Royal Ontario Museum...He might not be aware of this," Celluci jabbed a finger at Henry then swung around to glare at Vicki, "butyou know d.a.m.n well that's against the law." Vicki sighed. "Look, we didn't break in anywhere; we didn't disturb anything; we had a quick look around. It's late. I'm tired. If you're not going to arrest me, just drop it." She paused, knowing there wasn't a thing Celluci could do but accept it, smiled, and continued. "We found a sketch on Dr. Rax's desk, then found a corresponding ill.u.s.tration in a book of ancient G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses, also on Dr. Rax's desk.

"So?"

"The ill.u.s.tration looked at me." She swallowed and tucked the pencil behind an ear so she could wipe palms gone suddenly damp on her jeans. "Its eyes glowed red and it looked at me."

Celluci snorted. "How much light was in the room?"

"I know what I saw, Mike." Her eyes narrowed. "And RP doesnot cause hallucinations."

He studied her face for a moment, then he nodded. "Does this G.o.d have a name?"

"Yeah. Akh..."

Henry's hand was tightly clamped over her mouth before either of them saw him move. "When you call the G.o.ds by name," he said softly, "you attract their attention.Not a good idea."

He dropped his hand and Celluci waited for the explosion; Vicki, more than most, didn't take well to being summarily silenced. When no explosion occurred, he could only a.s.sume that she felt Fitzroy's action justified and a shiver of disquiet ran down his spine. If this ancient G.o.d had Victory Nelson spooked, he didn't want to run into it.

Vicki, her fingers still wrapped around Henry's wrist, wet her lips and tried not to think of those burning eyes taking a longer look. After a moment, she let go. "I think we can safely a.s.sume, that... this G.o.d and the mummy are connected."

"The mummy is probably the G.o.d's high priest," Celluci suggested. When Vicki and Henry both turned to stare, he shrugged. "Hey, I watch horror movies."

"Not exactly a credible source for research," Henry pointed out as he returned to his chair in the shadows.

"Yeah, well, we don't all have Count Dracula as a close personal friend."

"Gentlemen, it's going on two in the morning; can we get on with this before I fall over?" Vicki yawned and leaned back in the recliner. "As it happens, I think Celluci's right."

"Oh, joyous day," he muttered.

She ignored him. "The wheels on Trembley's car were turned, but the car continued to move in a straight line. That only happens if some outside force is applied. There was no visible outside force. According to the books I've been reading, priests of ancient Egypt were also wizards."

"You're saying the mummy killed Trembley with magic?" Celluci asked incredulously. "All the pieces fit."

In the silence that followed, the sound of the kitchen tap dripping away the seconds could be clearly heard.

"Oh, what the h.e.l.l," Celluci sighed. "I've already believed seven impossible things before breakfast, what's one more."

"So," Vicki ticked the points off on her fingers as she listed them, "what we're trying to find is the reanimated wizard-priest of a G.o.d who may or may not live on the life force of others, who can twist the minds of those near to it, and who can magically kill at a distance."

"Great." Celluci yawned into his fist. "And in this corner, the Three Stooges."

"Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk," Henry agreed.

Vicki jerked forward and stared at Henry in horror while Celluci gave him something close to a nod of approval. "I don't believe this," she muttered. Vicki had a theory that the Three Stooges did s.e.x-linked comedy as she'd never known a woman who thought they were funny. This just proved her theory as Y chromosomes were about the only thing Henry and Celluci had in common.Vampires are supposed to have more taste ! "If we could get back on topic, maybe you two would like to hear the rest of it."

Celluci, who dearly wanted to do one routine just to provoke a reaction from Vicki, decided against it when he realized who he'd have to do the routine with. The Stooges were something you did with your buddies, not with... romance writers. "Go on," he growled.

Henry merely nodded. He no more wanted something in common with Celluci than Celluci wanted with him.Except, of course, the one thing that neither of us is willing to give up ...

"Okay..."A yawn cut her off and, although she'd slept for a while in the early evening, Vicki knew that if she didn't fall over soon there'd be no way she'd be conscious for dawn.Let's wrap this up fast and get to bed . "Okay, ignoring the wizard aspect for the moment, what is it that priests want? Congregations.

Because their G.o.ds want followers. And I think I know the congregation this G.o.d's trying for." While Celluci's face grew dark, she outlined her meeting with Inspector Cantree. "It's after the police force, not just in Toronto but across the province. Its own private little army and the perfect start to a secular power base."

"Why would a G.o.d have any interest in acquiring a secular power base?" Henry asked.

Vicki snorted. "Don't ask me, ask the Catholic Church. Look, the G.o.d wants the congregation, thepriest wants the power base-somehow, all things considered, I can't see this guy as altruistic-and the police provide both."

"Then why across the province? Why not begin with just the city?"

"Cities aren't autonomous enough, they're too tightly controlled by higher levels of government. But if you control a province, you control a country within a country. Look at Quebec..."

"Weak, Vicki, very weak," Celluci snarled, finally giving his anger voice, unsure which infuriated him more, that the mummy would dare to subvert the police or that Vicki thought it could be done. "You have no proof that this new adviser is the mummy." "I have a hunch," Vicki told him, her voice edged. "That's what you started with and look where it's gotten us. Cantree's repeating messages from the Chief like they were holy writ. You know that's not like him." They locked gazes. When Celluci looked away, Vicki continued. "One of us has to go to the Solicitor General's party on Sat.u.r.day."

"One of us?" Henry asked quietly.

"All right, you." Snapping the recliner upright, Vicki laid her forearms across her knees. "Over half the people there would know Mike or me, so neither of us can do it. Besides, it's invitation only and you're good at getting past..."

"Social obstacles," he supplied when she paused. "You're right. I'll have to do it."

"What if Vicki's wrong and the mummy isn't there?"

Henry shrugged. "Then I'll leave early, no harm done."

"And if she's right?"

Henry smiled. "Then I'll take care of it."

Celluci remembered a dark barn and pale fingers closing around the throat of a man with only seconds to live. He averted his eyes from the smile. "You think you're up to this wizard-priest?"

Actually, he had no idea, but he wasn't about to let Celluci know that. "I am not without resources."

"Then it's settled." Vicki stood and stretched, snapping the kinks out of her spine. "This little session has been very useful. We'll all get together after the party and talk again. Thank you both for coming. Go home." She made it pretty obvious who she meant.

"I'll be there just before dawn," she told Henry at the door, dropping her voice too low for Celluci to hear. "Don't start without me."

He lifted her hand and lightly kissed the inside of her wrist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he told her softly and was gone.

Celluci came out of the bathroom and reached for his jacket. "I'm on stakeout for the next few nights, so I won't be around, but when this is over you and I have to talk."

"What about?"

He reached over and with one finger, gently slid her gla.s.ses up her nose. "What do you think?" The same finger dropped down to trace the line of her jaw.

"Mike, you know..."

"I know." He moved out into the hall. "But we're still going to talk."

The door closed behind him and Vicki collapsed against it, fumbling for the lock. For the next few hours, all she wanted was a chance to sleep. For the next few days, she'd concentrate on stopping the mummy.And after that...

"Oh, h.e.l.l," she stumbled into the bedroom, yanking her sweatshirt off over her head. "After that, maybe something'll come up..."

He wanted the dawns he remembered where a great golden disk rose into an azure sky, burning the shadows away from the desert until each individual grain of sand blazed with light. He wanted to feel the heat lapping against his shoulders and the stone still cool from the darkness against the soles of his feet.

This northern dawn was a pallid imitation, a pale circle of a sun barely showing through a leaden sky. He shivered and walked in off the balcony.

Soon he would have to deal with the woman his G.o.d had chosen. Over the next few days he would use the key to her ka that he had been given and lift the manner of her despair off the surface of her mind.

His lord never demanded death, feeding instead on the lesser, self-perpetuating energies generated by the darker aspects of life. In time, of course, the chosen ones usually prayed for an ending. Occasionally, they achieved it.

Chapter Nine.

Those outside of political circles who thought about the Ontario government at all, thought only of Queen's Park, the ma.s.sive red sandstone, copper-roofed building anchoring the north end of University Avenue. Although it was the building where the provincial parliament actually sat, the real work got done in the blocks of office towers to the east. At 25 Grosvenor Street, between Bay and Yonge, the Office of the Solicitor General was about as far east as the government went.

Vicki squinted up at the building with distaste. It wasn't that she disliked the pink concrete tower-even though from the east or west it looked like it had been extruded from a Play-Doh modern architecture toy set-it was just that the three extra blocks from Queen's Park, while not far enough to take transit, had been long enough for her right foot to find a puddle and get soaked.

"Toronto in October. Christ. Any mummy in its right mind would hop the first Air Egyptian flight home."

She sighed as she pa.s.sed the sculpture outside the main entrance. It looked like a set of giant, aluminum prison bars, bent out of shape, and she'd never understood the symbolism.

Nodding at the special constable on duty at the information desk, she crossed the lobby to the cul de sac that held the elevators. Of the half dozen spotlights in the ceiling, only two were working, dropping the area into an amber-hued twilight. As far as Vicki was concerned, they might as well all have been off.

Some fair-haired wunderkind probably thought this up as a way of saving money-just before his monthly raise. She dragged her hand along the marble facing on the wall, across the stainless steel door, and finally to the plastic plate that held the call b.u.t.ton.Let's hope they left the lights on inside the cars or I'll never know when one arrives .

They had. Although her eyes watered violently in the sudden glare, the reaction was preferable to groping her way into an elevator shaft. Besides, after a ten-block walk in p.i.s.sing rain, she was already wet.

The Solicitor General's suite was on the eleventh floor and, as government offices went, bordered on palatial. Power colors and a conservative,'modern design were intended to both offend the least numberof voters and impress the most. Vicki recognized symbolic decorating when she saw it and knew full well that behind closed doors on this floor and others, utilitarian cubicles carried the workload.

"Can I help?"

The young woman at the desk served the same function as the decor-to impress and rea.s.sure. Vicki, who hated being pleasant to strangers, wouldn't have had her job for twice the money. "I hope so. My name is Nelson, I have an appointment with Mr. Zottie at one-thirty." She checked her watch. "I'm a little early."

"No problem, Ms. Nelson. Please, go on in."

She's good, Vicki mused, pa.s.sing through the indicated double doors.Even watching for it, I barely saw her check the list .

The woman at the inner desk, while still impressive, was not the least bit rea.s.suring. "Mr. Zottie will see you in a moment, Ms. Nelson. Please, have a seat."

It was considerably more than a moment before the door to the Solicitor General's office opened. Vicki tried not to fidget while she waited. The weekend had pa.s.sed as a non-event, their only leads unavailable. Each morning she'd tucked Henry in-unsure if she should worry that the dream continued or be grateful that it remained only a dream and he still showed no sign of seeking the sun-then went home and did laundry, a little grocery shopping, called her mother, and marked time. First thing this morning, she'd pulled a few strings to get this appointment.

"Ms. Nelson?" Solicitor General George Zottie was a not very tall, not very slim, middle-aged man with a *full head of dark hair, heavy dark brows, and long dark eyelashes. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

He had the firm, quick handshake of someone who'd spent time out from behind a desk and Vicki, who despised politicians on principle, considered him to be one of the best. A combination of personal integrity and a sincere respect from the combined police forces he was responsible for had kept him in this top cabinet position for his last two terms of office. If the current government won the next election, which seemed certain, his third term was pretty much a.s.sured.

Vicki had met him three times while she'd been on the force, the last occasion only eight months before her failing eyesight forced her to quit. They'd spoken for a few moments after the presentation ceremony and that conversation had given Vicki the idea that had gotten her in to see him today; a plan to raise the profile of the police force in both elementary and high schools. In fact, it was such a good idea that she was half convinced to pursue it once the mummy threat had been taken care of. Provided, of course, that the good guys won.

That conversation would also give her a basis for judging his-stability? Reality? For judging how much of a hold the mummy already had. Or if it had any kind of a hold at all. Anything she found out today would help to arm Henry for Sat.u.r.day night.

Following the Solicitor General into his office, she had a quick look around. With next to no peripheral vision she couldn't be subtle about it, but she figured he should be used to first time visitors rubbernecking. Unfortunately, if the mummy had been visiting, it had left no easily discernible signs. No bits of rotting bandage, no little piles of sand, not even a statue of the sphinx with a clock in its tummy.

"Now then," he settled himself behind his desk and waved her into a chair, "about this proposal ofyours..."

Vicki pulled a pair of file folders out of her bag and handed him one. As she spoke she watched his eyes, his hands, his overall bearing, trying to spot some indication that he was being influenced, if not controlled, by a millennia-old wizard-priest. He didn't seem nervous. If anything, he seemed calmer than he had at the police reception where he'd spent the evening twitching at the collar of his jacket.

I suppose giving up your conscious will might calm you down, she allowed as she finished up the presentation. But then, so would cutting back the caffeine.

"Very interesting." The Solicitor General nodded thoughtfully and made a quick notation across the top of the first page. Vicki's eyes weren't up to reading his reversed handwriting although she squinted down at it while he continued. "Have you discussed this with public relations?"