BloodWise

BloodWise, Chapter 6

This is BloodWise, Chapter 6. If you want to go back to the beginning or read another chapter, use the navbar above. ***

“You’re late,” Fitzgerald said. Everyone else was already sitting around the table. Fitzgerald had a pile of notebooks in front of him. Ivan with a legal pad and large caliber revolver. Noah with his damned Assegai spear. Reyna's attention immediately snapped to the Winstons cane-stick, then his leg.

“What happened?” she asked.

“It was the Prestons,” Winston said. He groaned as he lowered himself into his seat and gave silent thanks that Fitzgerald used plush leather chairs. “I’m certain the Prestons are behind our truck-bomb.”

“Interesting,” Fitzgerald said. “Why would you think that?”

“They have a motive- they share a common border with us. It’s in their interest to see us fail.”

“What about the Zulus?” Noah asked. “Those guys are into bombings.”

“I told you that I can read faces,” Winston said. Then he paused for a moment as the pain in his leg flared. Once it died down, he continued, “When I told John Zulu about the bombings, he looked lost. I don’t think he even knew about the blood bank. But Lord Preston was definitely hiding something.”

“You went inside House Preston?” Noah asked.

“Brave man,”Ivan noted.

“The blood bank was my ambition for several years. I had to know the truth.”

“But do you have anything else to go on?” Fitzgerald asked. “I mean, besides funny expressions on their faces.”

“They were lying to me, my lord.”

“That may be true, but while you were out, I did an extensive search of my files and found some damning evidence of my own.” Fitzgerald reached into one of his binders and produced short, handwritten letter. The handwriting itself was spidery and messy, as though it had been scribed by an angry teenaged boy, and it had been written on yellow notepad paper. “It’s a threatening letter from Marlo Longknife. Are you familiar with the Longknifes?”

Fitzgerald slid the paper across the table to him.

The note was simple enough:

I know that you have a new project planned. If you want to make sure your blood stays safe, I will need to see $100,000. Cash.- M. Longknife.

That was the note in its entirety. There was no date or any other identifying information. “Do you have the return address?”

“No,” Reyna said. “I check all of Lord Fitzgerald’s mail. I threw out the envelope. Honestly, I don’t even remember getting that one, but Marlo’s kind of crazy. He sends those kinds of letters a few times a year, and I didn’t think this one was any different.”

“Anyway, we don’t need a return address,” Fitzgerald said. “He’s at the Pine Knoll Fairground. It was clearly an attempt at blackmail.”

“But the Longknifes aren’t particularly known for spying and espionage.”

“Maybe they just got lucky,” Ivan said. “Maybe they stumbled onto something.”

“Or maybe someone told them,” Winston said. “That’s more likely. Maybe the Prestons found out about the blood bank and then subtly suggested to the Longknifes that it might be a good way to gather some income.”

“Anything’s possible,” Fitzgerald admitted. He took the letter back from Winston. He started to put his folders and files into a neat pile. “Did Old Skinner ask you to follow his ritual of pain?” he asked. “Or did you get that leg wound some other way.”

“It was the ritual,” Winston said. “Ironically, if the blood bank hadn’t been destroyed, I would have ample blood to deal with healing it right now.”

“It was a good idea,” Fitrgerald admitted, “but it was bound to attract the wrong kind of attention. In retrospect, I may have been wrong to help you finance it.”

Winston was about to argue, but he checked himself. The timing was off.

“Maybe the Prestons were involved, Winston. Maybe not. But this letter suggests that the most reasonable line of  inquiry is to pay a visit to the Longknifes. And that’s where I’d like you after dusk tomorrow. I want you to take Noah and Ivan too, in case things take a turn for the worse.”

Winston didn’t buy it. It didn’t jibe with Occam’s razor. In the careful analysis he'd conducted after arriving in Baltimore, he’d determined that the Longknifes were a minimal threat. They had no real resources, they shared no overlapping claims with Fitzgerald. They were rovers, in fact, and only in Baltimore a few months out of the year. Marlo Longknife might have written that letter, but he was highly suspicious of Marlo’s ability to either discover the blood bank’s location or rig a well placed truck bomb. Nevertheless, there was proverbial egg on Winston’s face. It was his failure to cover his tracks appropriately that lead to the bombing. He also owed Fitzgerald a large sum of money. “I’ll be there at dawn,” he said. “But I don’t Noah there.”

“What, you don’t like my face?” Noah laughed.

“You’re too aggressive, Noah, and you have a reputation. I’m afraid they won’t talk.”

“I gut a few vamps, and suddenly l I have a fucking reputation?”

“Language, Noah.”

“Sorry, my lord.”

“But I want Noah there,” Fitzgerald said. “He’s my main enforcer. Do I make myself understood?”

“Yes my lord,” Winston said.

Fitzgerald stood. “And unless there’s any other business-”

“Ah. There is, actually.” Winston looked to Reyna. “I was hoping Reyna make make use of her skills at the site of the bombing.”

“I already did,” she said. “I went and looked into the past.”

“You did?” Fitzgerald and Winston asked at the same time.

“I had to know, but I didn’t see anything useful. Just a black truck. I tried to follow it back in time, but there was too much interference.”

“I asked you not too,” Fitzgerald said without looking at her. “I asked you not to get involved in this shit.” Fitzgerald blinked. “I mean this matter.”

“I’m sorry my lord.”

“That’s because you like him, isn’t it?”

“Who, my lord?”

Fitzgerald pointed at Winston. “Him! You like him.”

Reyna eyed Winston coolly. “I like his ideals.”

Noah chuckled. “Hey, there’s nothing that grabs a woman’s attention more than a  big ideal.”

“But you didn’t see anything, Reyna?” Winston asked. “Maybe the licence plate.”

"I’m sorry. There was nothing there, Winston.”

“Ergo- Longknife,” Fitzgerald said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some other business to conduct.” Fitzgerald left followed by Ivan. Reyna went next, shooting Winston a small glance in passing.

Finally it was just Winston and Noah. “Six-fifteen then, big guy?” Noah asked.

“That’s fine.”

Noah grabbed his Assegai and started to leave. Then he stopped. "You know when you said that you didn't want me to come along, that hurt my feelings, Winston."

"No offense. I'm sure you're highly effective in a combat situation. I'm not looking for any combat. I just want to talk with them."

"You want to talk to them? It's always easier to talk when you have a big gun. That's one thing you won't learn in those philosophy books of yours you stupid, fuck-faced asshole." Noah left.

Winston might have taken offense if the flare hadn't started up in his calf again. He would need blood soon. He took several deep breaths through his nose and focused. He stood slowly, grabbed his walking stick, and returned to his car.