He knitted his fingers together and gave me a dark look. ‘What is this really about? He’s not getting out is he?’
I knew who he was referring to – Samuel Beswick, the man who’d broken into my family home and murdered my parents, leaving me alone with their bodies. The crime had only been discovered when my wailing alerted the neighbours, although blessedly I remembered nothing of the event. Beswick had been arrested less than twenty-four hours after the double murder and had been in prison ever since. He’d never explained why he’d committed such a terrible deed, and he’d never admitted his guilt. But he was the reason I’d wanted to join the police in the first place.
‘No,’ I said quietly. ‘He’s not getting out.’
Something gleamed in my uncle’s eyes. There were occasions when it seemed to me that he despised Beswick far more than I ever could. ‘I’m pleased to hear it.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll look out that box for you.’
I had the distinct impression that I was being dismissed. ‘Thank you.’ I paused. ‘How are you?’ I asked. ‘Are you keeping alright?’
‘A few aches and pains. Nothing serious.’ He pulled a face. ‘The worst thing about getting to this age isn’t my health, it’s the way everyone else treats me. I’m no longer seen as a real person. I no longer have a personality of my own. They see me as an old man who must be spoken to in a very loud patronising voice.’ His lip curled. ‘I used to be considered important. I used to be respected. Now I’m just seen as old.’ He pointed to the door. ‘I’ll see you out.’
I opened my mouth, wanting to say more, but he was already moving towards me and ushering me out. I knew that the last thing he wanted was my sympathy. He’d view it as pity – and neither of us wanted that.
‘There’s no need to come back,’ he told me. ‘I’ll post whatever I find.’
Translation: stop bothering me and interrupting my hermit-like existence. I sighed. Yeah. Some things never changed.
Then he surprised me. He reached out and took my hand, gripping it tightly. His skin felt papery and thin. My eyes flew to his but I couldn’t fathom his expression.
‘Dredging up the past isn’t always a good thing, Emma. Sometimes it’s better to leave matters where they are and move on. What happened to your parents is a tragedy. What happened to you is worse, and I know that I was not the best guardian for you. But you can’t change what happened.’
I swallowed. ‘I’m not looking to change it,’ I said quietly. ‘I only want to understand it.’
He held my gaze before nodding. ‘Very well.’ He released his hold on me. ‘They would have been proud of you, you know.’
Unbidden tears rose behind my eyes and I blinked furiously. ‘Thank you.’
My uncle shrugged. ‘I merely speak the truth.’ Then he nudged me out of his house and closed the door.
***
Rather than appreciate the opportunity to stretch her metaphorical legs on winding country roads, Tallulah had grumbled all the way to my uncle’s house and all the way back. It wasn’t until we reached the outer London limits that her engine stopped rattling.
The lurid purple Mini, which I’d inherited from my Supe Squad predecessor Tony Brown, had considerable merits despite her age and tendency to belch out black smoke whenever she felt like it. Unfortunately, performing well on long drives was not one of those merits. I was beginning to think that she might have a point; the entire journey south felt like it had been a waste of time.
We were crossing the river when my police radio crackled. It was so unexpected that I almost smacked Tallulah’s bonnet into the rear end of the black cab in front of me. I was jerked forward and the edge of the seatbelt cut into my skin. The taxi beeped its horn loudly. I breathed out. That was close. London taxi drivers were not to be messed with. The driver shot his hand out of his window and flicked his middle finger ostentatiously in my direction. I scowled. Whatever. It wasn’t like I’d actually pranged his taxi.
I glanced at my watch. Midday exactly. The morning had zipped by.
‘DC Bellamy, this is Dispatch. Please acknowledge.’
‘Uh…’ I fumbled with the equipment. ‘This is DC Bellamy.’ I paused. ‘Acknowledged.’ I winced at my awkward phrasing. I was rusty with a lot of terminology. As the only Supe Squad detective, I didn’t spend a lot of time around other police officers. There was Fred, of course, but he’d been in Supe Squad longer than I had. I was the only detective; he was the only police constable. Liza was counted as office support and didn’t go out in the field. And although I’d made radio calls myself when necessary, I’d never received one before.
‘What is your current location? Your presence is required at the London Eye.’
I glanced at the road. ‘I’m less than ten minutes’ away. What’s the problem?’
‘Suicidal vampire.’
My mouth dropped open. Huh. ‘I’m on my way.’
I changed lanes to adjust my course. A vamp with a death wish was the last thing I’d expected. I’d never heard of such a thing before, and no doubt Lukas, also known as Lord Horvath and the leader of the London vampires, would be apoplectic at the idea. He was also sure to be on the scene both to help his vampire and to manage what could only be vast numbers of avid tourists.
I’d been avoiding Lukas for weeks but I knew it was only a matter of time before our paths crossed again. I quashed the butterflies in my stomach and focused on recalling my Academy training. Dealing with potential suicide attempts could be tricky. When such an attempt involved vampires and one of the most famous landmarks in the city … hell, anything could happen.
Chapter Two
I parked as close to the London Eye as I could before jogging the rest of the way. There was already a police cordon around the area but, rather than preventing onlookers from pausing to gawk, it was only encouraging them. Truthfully, I’d have done exactly the same if I had been a passer-by.
I’d never seen anyone perched on top of a gigantic observation wheel before. The vampire in question wasn’t in any of the glass-domed pods which were slowly revolving, affording visitors a panoramic view of the city. He’d foregone them in favour of clambering up the outside of the metal structure. How he’d achieved such a feat, which must have included evading the Eye’s security measures, was beyond me. Even for a vampire, it seemed nigh on impossible.
I squinted at the ascending figure. He was dressed in black and his hoodie obscured his face. I doubted that was by accident. I frowned and carried on towards the Eye.
I waved my warrant card at the first uniformed officer I came to, and he lifted up the cordon and gestured me through. I ignored the hum of curious questions from the crowd about my identity and walked quickly to the foot of the wheel.
A man with a shiny bald pate, who was wearing a tailored suit that hung around his slight paunch, was flapping his arms and yelling. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he was part of the London Eye’s management team; the dripping sweat on his brow and his obvious panic broadcast it. ‘You have to get that idiot down!’ he shouted. ‘There are news crews here already. This isn’t the sort of publicity we need right now!’