When I finished my homework and went out into the living room, I stumbled across a solemn procession. Uncle, Lumberjack, Stoker, and Rettle were walking from the basement to the exit. Their faces wore an expression of collected calm. That expression must have tightly stuck to the coach’s phiz, but as for the others, I had seen it on their faces for the first time. Now it was as if they had all put on Rettle’s mask.
Their appearance was even stranger. Each was dressed in something between a motorcycle racer’s protective equipment and a spec-ops armor. They wore form-fitting black costumes made of some futuristic material resembling both leather and plastic at once. Their shoulders, elbows, and knees had pads on them, chests were plated. They wore gloves, too, with some special protective elements. It all looked very cool. I noticed that the costumes, though identical otherwise, had small patches of color on the shoulders, sleeves, chest, and back. Mike’s were golden, Lumberjack’s were red, Stoker wore green signs, and only Rettle’s uniform was unadulterated black. These inserts must have helped identification, like shoulder straps in the army.
As soon as I thought of the army, a light bulb with the word “Idea” flared up over my head. Of course! So that was how the paladins of the Order looked! My guess was confirmed when I glimpsed something shiny over uncle’s jacket, under his arm. It was a gun handle, hidden by a scrap of cloth. I made out such “hiding places” for weapons on the other suits as well. When Lumberjack marched up to me, I realized that his nickname had been given not only for his size and strength. There was an axe hanging off his waist belt like a sword. And on Rettle’s back I saw sheathed swords, the same ones I had held on the day of my first marksmanship class.
While I stood in appreciation of the incredible coolness of this parade, its participants disappeared out the entrance door. I'd been living with the Order for several weeks, but it was the first time I met paladins fully geared up for combat. Consequently, something serious was brewing and I had to find out what it was! Luckily for me, I found Geek and Lee sitting at their places – in front of the computers in the control center.
“Hi, guys, what are you doing?”
“Hi, Sam, hmm, nothing, just writing a report on the last case.”
Geek’s voice sounded very friendly as usual while Lee just nodded to me in reply.
“What kind of report?”
“An FBI-like one,” Geek smiled. “Things are strict here. There is an established form with a great number of items. Like object name, date, time and place of the first contact, reason for surveillance and everything like that. We also file all photos and footage.”
“Geek, stop droning on, please. The kid obviously came here to find out where our four impetuous avengers have headed for,” Lee looked at me with a sly smile and added. “Am I right, Sam?”
I looked down a bit guiltily.
“Don't sweat it. All of us were like you when we first got into the Order. Hey, Geek, will you open the last case at the beginning? Let’s show Sam how we do it.”
“Are you sure it’s okay to tell Sam everything? Maybe Mike himself wants to talk to her about it,” Geek hesitated.
“Mike told us personally that Sam is a full member of the Order, so, we should treat her accordingly.”
Geek was still looking inquiringly at his workmate.
“Okay. We’ll tell her our part of the job, and let Mike talk to her about the paladins,” Lee gave in.
“Okay. Deal. Who’s telling – me or you?”
“You do it. You are better at droning on,” Lee elbowed Geek in the side.
“Here's the deal. Lee and I are responsible for searching nighttime vampires,” started Geek.
“You mean those who feed on humans?” I interrupted him.
“Exactly. Basically, we find nighttimers solely by tracing the evidence of their crimes. Unfortunately, this is the only tracing pattern we have. However, Mike also practices prevention of such crimes by finding teenagers with vampire blood. But that’s another story, Lee and I don’t do this.”
“And how do you come across crimes committed by vampires? It is cops’ business after all.”
“Through them as well. We have our own people in the police and FBI. They leak cases to us with possible involvement of the vampires. We also have access to all their databases, surveillance cameras, criminalist reports and other information that usually helps cops solve their cases.”
“And how do you find out that a vampire may be involved in the crime?”
“First, of course by the bloodlessness of a victim or the presence of lacerated wounds from fangs. Second, we often come across witness testimonies or surveillance cameras’ images showing that things the killer had done to his victim were quite strange from an average person’s perspective. And you will be surprised but a rare vampire starts his or her ‘career’ right from a murder. The first several times most of them attack their victims, bite them, take just a couple of sips and run away in fear. Sometimes, though, it’s not that easy to detect a crime, committed by a vampire. Like in our last case.”
“Now it’s my turn, ‘cause otherwise I’ll doze off listening to your mumbling. And roll further away, make room for Sam, I’ll be showing her photos,” Lee unceremoniously pushed Geek’s chair away and gestured me to sit closer.
“About a month ago, a serial killer showed up in the city. He finished off three girls in three weeks. Like clockwork – every Monday there was another victim. But since he was stabbing them with a knife, we didn’t pay attention to the cases.”
Lee clicked the mouse several times, and the screen showed the images which instantly made me feel nauseated. The memories of that terrible day when I saw Jack for the last time instantly flashed through my mind. What would have happened if I hadn’t stopped her? I couldn’t look at those photos any longer. I lowered my head and started staring at the toes of my sneakers, as if they were very interesting.
Geek elbowed Lee in the side.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot that not everybody sees pictures like these every day.”
Lee clicked and minimized the window with the photos.
“Listen. The evil will be punished at the end. Who knows how long it might have lasted. Finally, though, one smart forensic medical examiner showed up. He noticed that the amount of blood left at all three crime scenes didn’t correspond to the wounding patterns. You see, the wounds were very serious, and normally everything around would have been covered in blood, but there was hardly any blood near the scene. Then this forensic expert made a detailed examination and found a shot mark on the victim’s neck, right next to the carotid artery. Long story short, that smart-ass was somehow immobilizing his victim first. Then, he was sticking a syringe into his victim’s neck and taking a necessary amount of blood. And, after blood sampling, this bastard was jabbing girls with a knife to hide the real reasons for his crime. That expert shared his observations with the investigator that turned out to be a member of our staff. This is how we got this case.”
“And then the search process began. Lee is the highest quality specialist at this,” Geek put his hand on her shoulder.
“And how did you find him?” I asked.
“To tell you the truth, it wasn’t easy. But I outdid this creep!” Lee replied smugly. “The cops had almost no evidence, apart from the tire tread patterns. However, the tread was from one of the most popular tires in the country. There were several hundred cars with those tires in our city alone. So it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Except we also had no idea what this ‘needle’s’ model was. But it’s the twenty-first century out there, and your uncle is a real computer genius. Last year, he created a great program that analyzes security camera footage. First, I sorted the footage by the same cars that might be caught on the video at that time and in at least two out of the three areas. No luck. However, the cameras aren’t installed close together. The killer could get to the area through backyards and quiet streets where no one would notice him. There was nothing for me to do but to considerably expand areas and time. After that, as many as fifty matches were found. Next, with the help of the Department of Motor Vehicles database, I made a list of cars that could have the tires from the first crime scene. From fifty, we narrowed it down to twenty. And then what I did next showed real artistry. I had to analyze each of these cars, or, more precisely, their owners. The cops would surely screw up this job because they look at priors first, and vampires almost never get into the system. However, I also had to work for it. At first sight, all of the suspects seemed like ordinary citizens. No one resembled a bloodthirsty ghoul. And if no one matches, it means that either the initial information was incomplete or the analysis was conducted incorrectly. Since we didn’t have any other clues, I decided to stay with the second option and double-checked each suspect from a new angle. I launched our smart program again and commanded it to arrange the routes of the suspects’ movements and the list of places their cars pulled up to during the last three weeks. Again, I got loads of information. Average cops would never manage to figure it out.”
“But you are a genius, aren’t you?” cooed Geek in an almost loving voice.
“I’m a genius, for sure!” Lee smiled at him. “Anyway, I launched selection of the information, excluding main streets - the ones used by everybody, and common stopping points for the general public like gas stations and shops. Then, I started excluding unnecessary information about each suspect in particular – home, place of work, etc. After sifting through the results, I started analyzing. I’ve spent a really massive amount of time studying these route maps and was about to lose hope when I suddenly discovered some oddities in the behavior of a seventy-five-year-old Mrs. Shreder. The old lady was frequently driving across the city outskirts and into sketchy areas. I put everything about her that I’d previously excluded back on the route map, and the number of oddities increased. In three weeks, the car drove the roads leading to her quiet suburb only ten times. At the same time, the car was used practically every day. Consequently, either the granny often stayed away from home overnight or she was not the one behind the wheel. So, Geek visited this little old lady, ‘cause, well, his face is better suited for those kinds of talks.”
Lee pointed at her workmate, and he continued, “It turned out that Mrs. Shreder hadn’t used her ancient Ford Transit for five years because she had problems with her vision. All that time, her van had been in the garage, which the old lady never checked because, well, there was no need. I inspected the garage. Its door was neatly forced open and then carefully put back again. Obviously, the car was missing.”
Lee interrupted Geek.
“I had to scrutinize another shit-ton of video to find at least ten decent shots that could help to identify the new Ford Transit driver. It happened to be a huge, skin-headed dude in his thirties with a shitty beard. After that, Geek swung into action again – he’s a surveillance pro. As for me, I’d done my job – we’d found our target.”
“Detected, really, rather than found,” Geek looked at his friend reproachfully. “With that video, we had established neither his identity nor his location. And then the chase started. Every day I drove through the places the target had shown up most often, and Lee was watching the cameras the whole time as well.”
“I set a tracking beacon in the program so it would alert us when the target showed up. The app was informing me about the place, and I was calling Geek and guiding him according to cameras.”
“It’s just that I’m not an action hero. City chases are not my specialty, so while I was still rushing to the right place, most of the time, the van had already gotten out of sight.”
“He was chasing after this scumbag for three days! Three damn days!”
“Oh, yeah, I nearly lived in a car for three days. Not a very pleasant pastime, I must say. On the fourth day, I caught up with him and sat on his tail. I drove after him for another half-day in vain. That fellow didn’t want to leave the wheel, but, after two hours, he finally stopped at the gas station, and that’s when I managed to identify him.”
“To identify him? By his fingerprints? Did you fingerprint his wheel while he was away?”
“No, Sam, in our case to identify means to check for vampirism.”
“And how’s that? Did you prod him with silver?”
“No,” Geek chuckled. “Everything’s much easier than you think. Did Bessie tell you that the temperature of our bodies is lower than that of a human?”
I nodded.
“So, there’s one thing, it is called thermal imager. It displays the temperature of the surface under consideration, no matter whether it is a house wall or a body. So, with the help of this thermal imager, it’s very easy to distinguish a vampire from a human.”
“So, did this car thief turn out to be a vampire?”
“Yep.”
“Have you seized him?”
“No, I haven’t, there’s no good in doing it in front of people. I continued following him. And finally, the van brought me to its owner’s dwelling place – a half-neglected hovel on the outskirts. A perfect fit for a scumbag.”
“Is this when you called for backup?”
“Of course, not. We are not some death squad to pounce on anyone, no matter who, in such a manner!” Lee chuckled.
“We’re a serious organization, Sam. Being a vampire doesn’t mean being a killer. You’re a vampire yourself, aren’t you?”
Geek winked at me and I thought to myself, “Right, but I am a killer”.
“We collect evidence before taking any measures,” he continued.
“And how does this happen?” I asked.
“Evidence collection is Stoker’s business. He is our breaking and entering specialist. It’s important not to leave any traces in order to not frighten the object away. That day, I placed a GPS tracker on the van so that we could track down the suspect’s movements without undue hassle. Once he left his shelter, Stoker came there, got inside and searched everything. He found a single-use syringe with traces of blood in the garbage and took a sample. He also found a set of ten knives. He photographed them according to all the rules of forensic expertise. We sent all of this to our cop-friend and he, in turn, sent them to criminalists. Our suspicion has been confirmed. The blood on the syringe belonged to the first victim, and the blade of one knife perfectly matched the wound patterns.”
“So, have the paladins headed for that hovel now?
“Yep, this is where they went.”
“What are they going to do when they catch the bastard? Bring him here? Do you have a jail somewhere here?”
“That’s another story, kiddo. Ask Mike to tell you about it,” Lee patted me on the cheek. “And now go play somewhere else. Geek and I have to finish our work.”
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