“What do you mean?” Fetlock asked.
“Jameson must have known how little life his servant had left in him. He could have sent a fresher corpse to bring his message, but if he had, if the half-?dead had lived just a few hours more, I could have interrogated him and learned where Jameson’s lair is. This guy won’t be telling me anything.”
She pulled the blanket back over the half-?dead’s face. Supposedly a hair and fiber unit was coming from Harrisburg to take a look at him, but she doubted they would find anything. The body was still decaying at an accelerated rate, and by the time they arrived he would probably be nothing more than stinking goo and splintered bones.
“That might explain why Jameson came here so early. The half-?dead was supposed to arrive at midnight to get Angus’ answer, but it was closer to six P.M. when they arrived. I think Jameson didn’t expect his servant to last until twelve.”
“You mentioned that before. That Jameson had approached his brother with some kind of offer and that Angus refused it. You didn’t say what the offer was.”
“Well, nobody got around to telling me, either.” Caxton led the Fed toward the motel room. A pair of state troopers stood outside the door, guarding it, while a team of photographers worked inside, documenting the place of Angus Arkeley’s last moments. “Angus intentionally lied to me and didn’t tell me anything about the deal. It sounded like Angus felt this was family business. That he thought he could take Jameson down himself. Come on in, I’ll show you what that got him.”
They squeezed into the small bathroom, ejecting a photographer and a corporal who was in charge of maintaining order on the scene. Caxton pulled back the shower door and let Fetlock look into the tub. It was empty, or at least there was no body in it. The paramedics had taken Angus away, pumping him full of plasma and trying to keep his heart going until he could reach a hospital. It had been no use—he’d been pronounced dead en route, inside the ambulance. The body was in the hospital’s morgue now under careful supervision. Jameson had the power to bring his brother back from the dead—in the form of a half-?dead like the one out in the parking lot. Caxton had no reason to think Jameson would do that—it would only give her a chance to question Angus again—but she wasn’t taking any chances.
“Jameson dragged him in here, mostly to get him away from me. He had about five seconds alone with his brother before I broke in and started shooting. What do you see here?” she asked. Fetlock turned his head to one side. “I see strawberry jam. About a gallon of it.”
Caxton let herself smile a little. She was starting to dislike the Fed. He kept his cards too close to his vest when they were supposed to be helping each other out. “That’s coagulated blood, of course. Angus’
blood. What I see when I look at this is a vampire who had already fed last night.”
“That’s an interesting conclusion.”
She nodded. “A hungry vampire would have found a way to drink more of the blood. He would have seen every drop as precious. This is just thoughtless waste. Jameson didn’t bring his brother in here to feed off of him, he brought him in here to murder him. Plain and simple.”
“His own brother. Why?”
“Because he said no. You asked me what Jameson offered Angus and I told you I don’t know for sure, but I think I can guess. A vampire only has one thing he can give you, which is his curse. I think Jameson Arkeley offered to make his brother a vampire. He gave him twenty-?four hours to think it over, and maybe Angus was even tempted—eternal life must sound pretty good to an old man, even if he knows what price he’s going to have to pay. When Angus said no, Jameson killed him before he could say one more word to me.”
For the first time Fetlock showed a little surprise. His face paled a shade and his eyes opened a little wider. “He wanted to make his brother like he was. If he couldn’t do that he wanted to keep him from talking to you. And he intentionally used a moldering servant so he couldn’t tell you anything.”
“Yeah, that theory looks good,” Caxton said.
“Then he’s afraid of you.”
She actually laughed at that. “Yeah. I’m his biggest threat.” She led Fetlock over to the toilet and showed him the window that both she and Jameson had crawled through. “Out there,” she said, “I put two nine-?millimeter rounds in his heart at point-?blank range. Then he stood up again, incapacitated me, and fled the scene completely unscathed. Sure, I’m a real threat.” Fear surged through her again and she couldn’t help but shiver. Fetlock must be able to see how terrified she was, she thought. She couldn’t hide it anymore.