"Hamilton,.Laurell.K.-.Anita.Blake.-.12.-.Incubus.Dreams" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Laurell K)

УYou wonТt be able to miss it,Ф he said, УitТll be the only club with its own police escort.Ф
It took me a second to realize that he had made a joke. Dolph didnТt make jokes at murder scenes, ever. I opened my mouth to remark on it, but the phone was dead in my hand. Dolph never had been much for good-byes.
Detective Arnet leaned in, and asked, УWas that Lieutenant Storr?Ф
УYeah,Ф I whispered, Уmurder scene, gotta run.Ф
She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something else, but I was already moving up the table. I was going to give my apologies to Larry and Tammy, then go look at a body. I was sorry to miss the rest of the reception and all, but I had a murder scene to go to. Not only would I get away from ArnetТs questions, but I wouldnТt have to dance with Micah, or Nathaniel, or anybody. The night was looking up. I felt a little guilty, but I was glad somebody was dead.


3

Staring down at the dead woman, it was impossible to be glad. Guilty, maybe, but not glad. Guilty that even for a second IТd found the idea of someoneТs death an escape from an uncomfortable social situation. I wasnТt a child. Surely, to God, I could have handled Jessica Arnet and her questions without hiding behind a murder. The fact that I was more comfortable here staring down at a corpse than at the head table at a wedding said something about me and my life. I wasnТt sure exactly what it said, or meant. Something I probably didnТt want to look at too closely, though. But, wait, we had a body to look at, a crime to solve, all the sticky personal stuff could wait. Had to wait. Yeah, sure.
The body was a pale glimpse of flesh between two Dumpsters in the parking lot. There was something almost ghostlike about that shining bit of flesh, like, if I blinked, it would vanish into the October night. Maybe it was the time of year, or the wedding scene IТd just left, but there was something unnerving about the way sheТd been left. TheyТd stuffed the body behind the Dumpsters to hide it, then the black wool coat she wore had been opened around her almost naked body, so that you caught that gleam of pale flesh in the bright halogen lights of the parking lot. Why hide her, then do something to draw such attention to her? It made no sense. Of course, it may have made perfect sense to the people who killed her. Maybe.
I stood there, tugging my leather jacket around me. It wasnТt that cold. Cold enough for the jacket, but not enough to put the lining in it. I had my hands plunged into the pockets, the zipper all the way up, my shoulders hunched. But leather couldnТt help against the cold I was fighting. I stared at that pallid glimpse of death, and felt nothing. Nothing. Not pity. Not sickness. Nothing. Somehow that bothered me more than the woman being dead.
I made myself move forward. Made myself go see what there was to see and leave my worries about my moral decay for another time. Business, first.
I had to come to the far end of the right-hand Dumpster to see the spill of her yellow hair, like a bright exclamation point on the black pavement. Staring down at her, I could see how tiny she was. My size, or smaller. She lay on her back, the coat spread under her, still securely on her arms. But the cloth had been spread wide, folded under on the side nearest the parked cars, so that she could be seen by a customer walking out to his car. Her hair, too, had been pulled back, combed out. If sheТd been taller, that, too, would have been visible from the parking lotЧjust a peek of bright yellow around the Dumpster. I looked down the line of her body and found the reason that someone had thought she was tallerЧclear plastic stilettos, at least five inches high. Lying down she lost the height. Her head had been pressed to the right, exposing bite marks on her long neck. Vampire bite marks.
On the mound of her small breast was another pair of bite marks, with two thin lines of blood trickling from them. There was no blood at the neck wound. I was going to have to move the Dumpsters to get back there. I was also going to have to move the body around to look for more bite marks, more signs of violence. ThereТd been a time when the police only called me in after all the other experts had finished with a scene, but that was a while ago. I had to make sure I didnТt fuck up the scene. Which meant I needed to find the man in charge.
Lt. Rudolph Storr wasnТt hard to spot. HeТs 6Т8Ф and built like pro wrestlers used to be built before they all started looking like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Dolph was in shape, but he didnТt go for the weight lifting. He didnТt have time. Too many crimes to solve. His black hair was cut so short it left his ears exposed and somehow stranded on the sides of his head. Which always meant heТd gotten a haircut, recently. He always had it cut shorter than he liked it, so it would be longer between haircuts. His tan trench coat was perfectly pressed. His shoes shined in the parking lot lights. He didnТt care what he looked like, as long as he was neat and tidy. Dolph was all about the neat and tidy. I think it was one of the reasons that murder pissed him off, it was always so messy.
I nodded at the uniformed policeman whose only job seemed to be watching the body and making sure it didnТt get messed with by anyone that wasnТt allowed to touch it. He nodded back and went back to staring at the corpse. Something about how wide his eyes were made me wonder if this was his first vampire kill. Was he worried that the victim would rise and try to munch on him? I could have calmed his fears, because I knew this one would never rise. SheТd been drained to death by a group of vamps. That wonТt make you one of them. In fact, the act is guaranteed to give the vamps their fun and not to make the vic one of them. IТd seen this once before. I hoped like hell it wasnТt another master vampire gone rogue. The last one had purposely left vics where we could find them, in an attempt to get the new laws that gave vampires legal rights repealed. Mr. Oliver had believed that vampires were monsters, and if they were given legal rights, theyТd spread too fast, eventually turning the entire human race into vampires. Then who would everybody feed off of? Yeah, it would take hundreds of years for vampirism to spread to that degree, but the really old vampires take the long view. They can afford to, theyТve got the time.
I knew it wasnТt Mr. Oliver again, because IТd killed him. IТd crushed his heart, and no matter how many times Dracula might rise in old movies, Oliver was well and truly dead. I could guarantee it. Which meant we had a new group of nuts on our hands, and they could have an entirely new motive for killing. Hell, maybe it was personal. Vampires were legal citizens now, which meant they could have grudges just like humans.
But somehow it didnТt feel personal. DonТt ask me to explain it, but it didnТt.
Dolph saw me coming toward him. He didnТt smile, or say hi, because one, it was Dolph, and two, he wasnТt completely happy with me. He wasnТt happy with the monsters lately, which rubbed off on me because I was way too intimate with the monsters.
Still, convincing his son not to become a vampire had earned me brownie points. The fact that Dolph had just gotten off of a leave without pay, with an informal warning that if he didnТt shape up, heТd be suspended, had also mellowed him out. Frankly, IТd take whatever I could get. Dolph and I were friends, or IТd thought we were. We were both a little unsure where we stood right now.
УI need to move the Dumpsters to look at the body. I also need to move the body around to look for more bite marks, or whatever. Can I do that without screwing the crime scene up?Ф
He looked at me, and there was something in his face that said, clearly, he was not happy to have me here. He started to say something, glanced around at the other detectives, the uniforms, the crime-scene techs, and beyond that to the waiting ambulance, shook his head, and motioned me off to one side. I could feel peopleТs gazes follow us as we moved away. All of the detectives there knew that Dolph had dragged me up a flight of stairs at a crime scene. When I said manhandled, I wasnТt exaggerating. God knows what the stories said now, probably that heТd hit me, which he hadnТt, but what heТd done had been bad enough. Bad enough I could have pressed charges and won.
He leaned over and spoke low. УI donТt like you being here.Ф
УYou called me,Ф I said. God, I did not want to fight with him tonight.
He nodded. УI called, but I need to know that you donТt have a conflict of interest here.Ф
I frowned up at him. УWhat do you mean? What conflict of interest?Ф
УIf itТs a vamp kill, then it was someone that belongs to your boyfriend.Ф
УItТs nice that you said if itТs a vamp kill, but if you mean Jean-Claude, then it might not be his people at all.Ф
УOh, thatТs right, you got two vampire boyfriends now.Ф His voice was ugly.
УYou want to fight each other, or fight crime? Your choice,Ф I said.
He made a visible effort to control himself. Hands in fists at his sides, eyes closed, deep breaths. HeТd been forced to go through anger management training. I watched him use his newfound skills. Then he opened his eyesЧcold cop eyesЧand said, УYouТre defending the vamps already.Ф
УIТm not saying itТs not a vamp kill. All I said was that it might not be Jean-ClaudeТs people. ThatТs all.Ф
УBut youТre defending your boyfriend and his people already. You havenТt even looked at the vic completely, and already you say it canТt be your lover boy.Ф
I felt my eyes grow cold and said, УIТm not saying it couldnТt have been Jean-ClaudeТs vampires. IТm saying itТs unlikely. Thanks to the Church of Eternal Life, St. Louis has a lot of bloodsuckers that donТt owe allegiance to the Master of the City.Ф
УThe churchТs members are more straitlaced than right-wing Christians,Ф he said.
I shrugged. УThey do come off as sanctimonious, IТll grant you that. Most true believers do, but thatТs not why I say it was them, or strangers, instead of the vampires I know best.Ф
УWhy, then?Ф he asked.
My only excuse for telling the absolute truth is that I was pissed and tired of Dolph being mad at me. УBecause if any of Jean-ClaudeТs people did this, theyТre dead. Either heТll turn them in to the law himself, or have me do it, or theyТll just be killed.Ф
УYouТre admitting that your boyfriend is a murderer?Ф
I took in a deep breath and let it out slow. УYou know, Dolph, this is getting old. Yeah, IТm fucking a vampire or two, get over it.Ф
He looked away. УI donТt know how.Ф
УThen learn,Ф I said. УBut stop letting your personal shit rain all over the crime scene. WeТve wasted time arguing, when I could have been looking at the body. I want these people caught.Ф
УPeople, plural?Ф he asked.
УIТve only seen two bite marks, but they both have a slightly different pattern to them. The one on the chest is smaller, less space between the fangs. So, yeah, at least two, but IТm betting more.Ф
УWhy?Ф he asked.
УBecause they bled her out. ThereТs almost no blood anywhere. Two vamps couldnТt drain an adult human being without leaving a mess. TheyТd need more mouths to hold that much blood.Ф
УMaybe she was killed somewhere else.Ф
I frowned at him. УItТs October, sheТs outside wearing five-inch plastic stilettos, an inexpensive wool coat, and not much else.Ф I motioned at the building behind us. УWeТre in the parking lot of a strip club. Hmm, let me see, five-inch plastic stilettos, naked woman . . . could this be a clue that she worked here, stepped out for a smoke, or something?Ф
Dolph reached into his pocket and got out his ever-present notebook. УSheТs been identified as one Charlene Morresey, twenty-two, works as a stripperЧworked, as a stripper. Yes, she did smoke, but she told one of the other girls she was going outside for a breath of fresh air.Ф