Tales of London #6

The teak desk dominated the whole room. It was very old, maybe even a century or so old,

with a lot of drawers and carvings. It was also so huge that the five big leather armchairs on one side looked like those tiny ones kids used in kindergarten next to it. That desk was saying power, influence, importance.

The Commissioner himself was giving off none of those things, not at first look, anyway. He was a short and thin Indian man in an obviously expensive, but very boring grey suit. When he turned away from the window, Robert saw his face, which was slightly lined around his eyes and lips, and was completely forgettable even with the big beak-like nose. His hairline was ever declining, for centuries now. He looked like he was in his late forties. In reality, the Commissioner was the second oldest vampire lord in Europe.

'Please, sit down,' he said politely, gesturing towards the five chairs, and although it wasn't an order, Robert felt the crushing power of the Commissioner's mind lurking over his. It was like a predator waiting for its prey. Or even more precisely, like standing right next to a transformer box. He could feel the raw, unstoppable energy, under control for the moment being, humming silently, but promising havoc and decay and death if anything has gone wrong.

The Commissioner did not sit down with them.

Robert took the chair between Jenna and Teodore. The others sat, too, except for Marcus, who stayed on his feet, beside his uncle's big, throne-like armchair, like a way too handsome bodyguard. Not like the Commissioner ever needed one.

'Let me make something crystal clear for you, right here at the beginning: I've had enough. This was your last strike. One more even so slight misstep as a parking ticket and you are done. I will personally make sure that you will rot in prison for a very long time, and never use another spell in your pathetic, broken lives. Is that all clear?' He spoke very quietly, in a calm manner. He was barely even audible over the noise of the traffic from outside. He didn’t need to raise his voice, not now, probably not ever: the terrible power it wielded did the job just fine.

There was no answer now but the policeman apparently didn’t expect one, as he nodded and went on.

'Good. Now let's get down to business.'

He opened one of the drawers on his side and took out five identical, yellowish binders. They were very slim. He gave them to Marcus, who sorted them out, one file for each of them.

'Yesterday, on the very same night when you all had your childish little clash, there was another violent crime in the city,' the Commissioner continued. 'It’s a good thing you all had alibis.’

‘Because whatever happens in this town, must be us, right?’ asked Bailey sarcastically. Robert didn’t feel Bailey’s anger justified this time. On many, many occasions, they were indeed to blame for weird things that happened in London.

The Commissioner didn’t waste time answering.

‘Someone broke into the British Museum after hours, killed five security guards and three staff members, injured a dozen more, then left.'

‘This is the first I hear about this,’ said Teodore, reading the file.

‘We keep it a secret for the time being,’ the Commissioner said. ‘Which means you’ll keep it a secret, too.’

‘How long do you think you can keep this under the lid?’ asked Rose. ‘The Museum had to open this morning, didn’t it?’

‘It didn’t,’ said Marcus proudly. ‘Gas leak, we said. My idea. Quite genius, if I can say so for myself.’

Something didn’t add up here, Robert thought. Why on Earth would someone break into the British Museum? There was no significant amount of money kept there, not even entry fees as the museum was free to visit. No real magical artefacts as far as he knew, and the collection was too well known to sell any item from it anyway. Besides, who needs the Rosetta Stone or samurai armour in their living room?

'What did they steal?' asked Rose.

'We don't know yet,' answered the Commissioner. 'He left a huge mess so they have to do a full inventory check before they could tell.'

'He?' asked Jenna. 'So you have a suspect already?'

'Unfortunately, this is not that simple,' he looked at the woman. 'We know of him, always have, but identifying him is only part of the problem. In the files, we call him "The Priest". He always wears a mask and rarely speaks, if at all. He is wanted by the police of most major cities in the world as well as by the CIA, the Interpol, the Chinese Government, the CERN and the MAGE. Nobody managed to catch him in the last 200 years.'

'CERN is a scientific establishment,' said Robert confused.

'Correct,' the old man said with a straight face.

'Wow, this guy is bad…' said Bailey. 'Also, what is he then, a vampire?'

'The only thing we know for sure about him is that he is not a vampire. Several eyewitnesses and CCTV cameras reported that he can use magic. There is a theory that implies it's not only one man, but different people are under the mask. Possibly even a family, the mask and the role with it handed down from father to son. I, personally, do not believe in this theory for the simple reason that I refuse to believe there can be a whole family or group using that kind of black magic after I have spent most of my life destroying it.'

Jenna put her chin onto her palm and tapped her lips, deep in thought. Bailey's look was empty, while Rose seemed confused. Only Teodore gave any sign that he knew what was going on, with a thin, cynical smile, but Robert was sure the boy won't speak, so he decided to do it himself.

'He is a necromancer. A voodoo priest, hence the name,' he said.

The Commissioner nodded.

'Precisely. I destroyed the last copy of the Necronomicon with my own hands forty years ago, after decades of searching. The dark knowledge is gone for good, but there is this last keeper, still alive, as if… I'm sorry, is there something funny about this for you, Mr Montgomery? Have I told a joke, perhaps?'

Robert answered with a wry smile.

'Not intentionally, I’m sure. It’s just a way you are talking about “dark knowledge”,’ he showed the quotation marks with his fingers. ‘It’s kind of ridiculous, as a notion, is all.’

The vampire raised an eyebrow. Marcus took a sharp breath.

‘How so?’

'There is no such thing as dark knowledge or black magic,’ said Robert. ‘Magic is neutral, and every piece of knowledge about it can provide a better world, something you robbed from us all. Do you have any idea how incredibly useful necromancy could have been in modern medicine?'

'While your personal opinion is appreciated, that being one of the reasons you are here, I will have to ask you to keep it to yourself for now,' the Commissioner answered very coldly. There was something in his old eyes. A spark, only it looked like an anti-spark, a glimpse of deep, deep darkness.

Teodore gave a quiet laugh, and every eye turned to him. Robert heard Marcus whispering 'Oh, boy.'

'This is rich,' said the Italian. 'You're claiming to give us one more chance to make up for everything we did, while in reality you desperately need us. You cannot touch a necromancer, because your body is almost entirely dead and necromancers have the power over everything dead. You can't even go near him, and neither can your lapdogs at SRU.'

Terrible silence.

Robert could hear the traffic outside and even Jenna's breathing, as the girl took a deep one. He also saw that her hand disappeared into the pocket of her skirt. Teodore stood up and turned his back on the Commissioner.

'I'm leaving,' he said, walking towards the door.

'No, you are not,' answered the vampire and Robert felt something like a shadow cast over the room. Teodore stopped one leg in the air. He was shaking and tried to fight it but the effort was pointless. 'You still don't understand, boy. None of you does. This is not a favour I'm asking.'

Bailey half-emerged from his seat, but Rose pulled him back. Jenna took her hand out, and Robert noticed the glow between her closed fingers. He made a flash of a move, grabbed the girl's wrist and slightly shook his head. Jenna looked at him angrily for a second, her arm twitched as she tried to free herself, then she gave up. Perhaps she realised what Robert knew to be true: if they would attack the Commissioner, it was unlikely that any of them would leave the building alive.

The Commissioner continued as if he didn’t notice any of this.

'I will give you an ultimatum. You have exactly 24 hours to decide if you will join the ongoing investigation. If so, Marcus will be your contact. If not, I will press charges for everything you've ever done, and you will be older than I look when you get out of prison. And if any of you would try to leave the city in the next 24 hours, well… The boys and girls at SRU love a good hunt. Now get the hell out of my office.'

He released Teodore, who tripped and almost fell, then he spun around on his heels and gave a look full of hatred to the Commissioner. He would have attacked but Bailey, on his feet now, grabbed his shoulder. Teodore shook his hand off but stopped nevertheless. Robert looked the vampire in the eye and wanted to say something, but now Jenna touched his hand, only for a fragment of a second, and he decided to stay quiet. He knew a lost fight when he saw one, however new that might have been for him.

The group left in defeated silence.

***

'So this was a disaster,' said Marcus.

'I strongly disagree,' answered Robert. 'Sure, it could have gone down a little more… smoothly, if you will, but all things considered… Yeah, no, it was a dumpster fire. Total and utter screw-up.'

After the meeting, the four of them, Robert, Bailey, Marcus and Rose decided to have a drink, so they got into the closest pub they could find. As they were still in the City, just next to the river, a pint cost more than Robert's rent, so he let Marcus pay.

The place looked like how a tourist would imagine a traditional, old English pub, a surefire sign of being not one of them. It wasn't unpleasant, only ridiculously expensive and felt somewhat fake. Robert couldn't explain why he didn't like it there. Maybe because everything was too new and shiny without any actual soul. He liked old and battered places.

Rose and Bailey didn't seem to mind it, as they already occupied a booth, talking, eating peanuts and waiting for their drinks. Marcus, as usual, only had eyes for the pretty bartender. She was an athletic brunette, hair in a tight ponytail, professionally flirty smiles sent out in a hope of bigger tips. It was a relatively busy evening so they had to wait for the service at the bar.

'You and Carvelli seemed to hit it off,' said Marcus casually.

'I wouldn't say that,' shook his head Robert. 'He would kill me without a second thought.'

'Wha… No, I mean the other Carvelli. Jenna.'

Robert gave that idea some thought before he answered.

'No, I'm pretty sure she would kill me, too. She would probably have a funny comment about it, but still.'

Marcus only answered with a dubious look. The bartender finally got to them and took their order. Marcus gave her an unnecessarily big tip and a few seductive looks, which she apparently liked because her fake smile slowly turned into a real one.

'She is hot, though,' said Marcus, after the girl left to make their drinks. 'Still talking about Jenna, before you ask.'

'Yes, you do, although I have no idea why. I'm starting to think that you are physically incapable of shutting up.'

Marcus just grinned. The barmaid returned and put three glasses of beer and a Cuba Libre cocktail down in front of Robert. Then she looked at him searchingly.

'Do I know you?'

Robert gave her a polite smile and shook his head.

'I don't think so.'

'But I do!' she said, with recognition in her green eyes. 'You are the guy who stopped that huge thunderstorm last year, aren't you? They called it a "Superstorm". I've seen the video somewhere, you were amazing. I loved your trench coat... They say you saved like… I don't know, a lot of people.'

Robert's humble smile was just as professional and fake as the bartender's flirty one.

'Well, yeah, but you know, I was at the right place at the right time… Any other incredibly powerful, single, handsome sorcerer could have stopped that storm…'

The girl laughed and leaned a little closer to Robert over the counter. He could smell her perfume from this close.

'Do you think you are that kind of incredibly powerful, single sorcerer, who might give me a call sometimes?' she asked.

'Don't forget handsome,' added Marcus. Though he flirted with the girl, too, he was ready to help out as a wingman if needed. 'People always forget how handsome this guy is, just because he is like super-rich and literally a professor at a major university, even though barely older than his students.'

The girl jotted down her phone number and name on a tissue and gave it to Robert. According to that, her name was Fiona. Robert promised to call her, then grabbed some of their drinks and left the bar.

'It's getting too easy,' said Marcus. 'We didn't even have to mention the cursed train or that huge, magic-proof statue gone rogue…'

'It was neither magic-proof nor huge, Marcus,' sighed Robert. 'Just a regular statue went rogue.'

'Sometimes you are just a big ol' buzzkill, you know that? You're welcome, by the way.'

'For what? Do you think I couldn't get her number by myself?'

'I think I am the one who should have her number now. I broke the ice,' pointed out Marcus.

'You know what they say about the early bird…'

'He gets worms, Robert. Worms. That's not good. People are making medicines against that.'

'I'm pretty sure you misunderstood this saying, my friend,' said Robert.

They reached the booth. Rose was now reading the yellow file, while Bailey just stared at his phone. Marcus, with his Cuba Libre (little umbrella included), sat down.

'So what do you guys think about my uncle's proposal?' he asked.

Bailey took a deep breath then he burst out.

'That's just fucked up, mate. Can't believe I'm saying this, but that jerk Teodore is right. No offence, mate, but your uncle is a lunatic. Missing a wheel. First of all, how the hell are we supposed to work with the Carvellis?'

'You could stop calling them jerks, for starters, sweetie,' said Rose, not even looking up from the file.

'You are the one to talk? You're insulting Jenna every time you have a chance,' he replied.

Rose closed the file and looked up very slowly. Two red blurs appeared on her cheeks, making her even prettier and yet somehow scarier at the same time.

'Now she is just "Jenna" for you all of a sudden?'

'That's… her name.' answered Bailey, and he looked a little confused. Rose didn't say anything, but Bailey couldn't stand her heavy gaze, so turned to Marcus instead.

'Also, mate, why do you even need us? I get it, no vampires can catch the big scary boogeyman, but there are like a bazillion of normal copper around. Isn't it supposed to be their job?'

'I don't…' started Marcus, but Robert cut in mid-sentence after he put down his Guinness.

'Allow me, my friend. The truth is, we are much stronger and probably more experienced in dealing with this kind of highly unusual thing than your average police officer. Especially if we join forces with the Carvellis,' he explained in his teacher's voice. 'Also, because the SRU is dealing with nearly all of the magical cases, the Met only has a handful of sorcerers and they aren't all combat trained. But more importantly, and I cannot stress this enough, we are also expendable, unlike the members of the police.'

He looked at Marcus who was sitting next to him. 'I assume that's the real reason why he never actually bothered us before. He was waiting for the time when he needed something from us, and the time has come. Am I correct?'

'It's not… Well, yeah, pretty much,' admitted Marcus. He looked uncomfortable.

Rose started to say something, but Robert got distracted. His phone buzzed. He took it out and checked. It was a message from an unknown number.

"Hey, it's Jenna. Listen, I think we all should meet up tomorrow to talk. U in?"

He replied with a simple yes and waited. Bailey and Rose argued about something again, but he didn't pay attention. The two of them were fighting most of the time, like an old married couple. After a while, it's nothing but white noise. Robert sometimes wondered how they were not an actual couple with all this tension between them.

"OK, let's say 3 pm. Where?"

Robert offered a place and Jenna agreed.

'Why are you smiling? Please tell me you didn't text the bartender already… Three days, mate. Three days, that's the rule,' Marcus was trying to have a look at Robert's phone, but he pocketed it.

'Now that you mention it,' he said, putting the napkin on the table. 'Here. Have fun. She is not my type.' Then he cleared his throat so everyone would listen to him. 'Okay, so who is up to making some new friends? We have a playdate tomorrow.'