Chapter Seven
CHAPTER SEVEN
I woke up thinking that the night had been pretty good and could have been a lot worse. I didn’t get caught in my fib, and I didn’t totally have full-on sex. Just some making out, which under the circumstances seemed reasonable. The sun was shining, and Bob was in bed next to me. Morelli was long gone. He was an up-at-the-crack-of-dawn person. He was already locked and loaded and on the job. I got dressed in yesterday’s clothes, grabbed a banana and a protein bar from the kitchen, and drove back to my apartment. No Herbert in my rearview mirror. No Herbert in my parking lot. Yay. Rex was asleep in his soup-can den when I walked into the kitchen, so I blew him a silent kiss and didn’t disturb him with the details of my evening. I made coffee and took a cup into the bathroom. An hour later I was clean top to bottom, mildly caffeinated, and ready to start my day. I had a text message that said my furniture would be delivered between one o’clock and four o’clock. This gave me the morning to make a capture that would allow me to pay at least the minimum amount on my credit card.
I left my apartment, got into my Trailblazer, and drove to the office. Still no sign of Herbert.
Connie was at her desk and Lula was slouched on the couch when I walked in. Lula had a lot of pink hair today, plus she was wearing a garlic necklace and a chain necklace with a large wooden cross.
“I’m ready to go after the vampire,” Lula said. “I’ve been reading about them and there’s a lot of conflicting information. There’s old-fashioned vampires that are the living dead. They come out of their graves when it’s dark on account of they don’t do good in the sun, so they do their bloodsucking at night. They aren’t real attractive. Then there’s more modern vampires that know enough to wear sunscreen so they can suck blood any time they want. Some of them can’t cast a shadow or be photographed and it turns out we don’t have a good picture of Zoran Whatshisname. Just look at his mug shot. It’s all blurry because he’s a vampire,” Lula said. “And he’s a widower. I looked it up in the obituaries, but it didn’t say what his wife died from so I think that’s real suspicious. Dollars to doughnuts he drained his poor wife dry sucking her blood all the time.”
“Vampires aren’t real,” I said. “They’re folklore and fiction.”
“Do you know that for sure?” Lula said. “What about that guy in Buffy the Vampire Slayer ? He looked pretty real.”
I went to the back room and got a giant cup of coffee in a to-go cup. “That was a television show.”
“Yeah, but it was excellent,” Lula said. “And it was almost like reality TV.”
“I’d planned to look for Zoran this morning, but I’m not going out with you dressed like that,” I said.
“Like what?”
“Like wearing all that garlic.”
“It’s to ward off the vampire,” Lula said. “I’m sensitive about losing my blood and vital body fluids.”
I looked over at Connie. “Talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t remember Buffy always wearing garlic,” Connie said. “That might be one of those outdated precautions.”
“I guess I could see that,” Lula said. “There’s garlic in everything these days. Vampires would have a hard time ordering out. So, they might have adapted.” She took the garlic off and dropped it into her tote bag. “Still, I’m going to leave my cross necklace on. It complements my skin tone, and it never hurts to have God on your side.”
I pulled the file out of my bag and paged through it. “Zoran manages a laundromat. We should check that out first.”
“Okay, but if he has fangs, I’m pulling the garlic out of my bag,” Lula said.
I handed the file to Lula. “If he has fangs, we will pretend not to notice because he obviously needs an orthodontist.”
Lula followed me out of the office. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d appreciate taking your car so mine doesn’t get contaminated with vampire cooties.”
“Not a problem.” I got behind the wheel. “Where are we going?”
“It says here that the laundromat is on Freemont Street. Another reason not to take my car. My baby doesn’t get parked in that neighborhood.”
Freemont Street was one street over from Stark Street. Stark started out okay and ended up as no-man’s-land. Freemont wasn’t up to Stark Street’s crime-ridden standards, but it wasn’t Rodeo Drive either.
I pulled away from the curb. “What block on Freemont?”
“Second block.”
The second block of Freemont was small businesses at street level and subpar apartments and rooms to rent on the second and third floors. The gangs were ever present, but the murder rate was minimal on the second block. If I left my car unattended, it had a 50/50 chance of getting carnapped.
“So, how’s things going with you?” Lula asked.
“Going good,” I said.
“How good?”
“Just good.”
“?’Cause you got that look.”
“What look is that?”
“Like you got some,” Lula said.
“Excuse me?”
“You always look all relaxed and smiley when you had a night of horizontal refreshment. You know, like you got some color to your cheeks on account of your blood oxygen level is at a hundred percent.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Nuh-uh, it’s science. You can’t argue science. Okay, so in the past some government officials have tried to fabricate science, but I know a orgasm glow when I see one. Although, I guess it could be a bun-in-the-oven glow. What’s happening on the baby front?”
“Nothing is happening on the baby front.”
“Okay, so then you did the deed with someone, and it had to be Morelli because Ranger isn’t in town. Unless you did the deed with yourself. Except in my experience, that isn’t usually as glow producing.”
“Jeez Louise.”
“This is a good address for a laundromat,” Lula said, looking through the file. “No one in that neighborhood has their own washer and dryer, so either they’re dunking their undies out in the kitchen sink or else they gotta go to a laundromat.”
“Has this guy had any priors other than the parking tickets?”
“Nope. None that are listed here.”
“Any details on the crime?”
“Just that he bit this woman in the neck, and he said it was because he was a vampire.”
“Did they do a wellness check? Take him to psychiatric?”
“Not that I could tell. Arresting officer verified that the suspect appeared to be a vampire.”
“Did they take the arresting officer to psychiatric?”
“See, you’re implying that you have to be crazy to believe in vampires. That’s because you don’t got a lot of maybe or what if in you. You doubt your imagination. That’s the part of you that’s constipated. Your imagination is all clogged up inside of you and nothing can come out. You got imagination constipation. You don’t want to believe the unbelievable. You probably don’t believe in aliens from outer space either. Or ghosts or flying squirrels.”
“Flying squirrels are real.”
“Maybe vampires are real. I bet the arresting officer looked at this guy with blood dripping off his fangs and he said, Hell yeah, this here is a vampire .”
“And you’re willing to believe in vampires because your imagination isn’t constipated?”
“You know it. If anything, my imagination got diarrhea.”
There was no doubt in my mind that this was true. I took Hamilton Avenue to Broad and Broad to State Street. I drove through center city and turned onto Freemont. The laundromat was squashed between a store selling gently used clothes and a tattoo parlor.
“Look at this,” Lula said. “You could take your pick of parking spots. There’s hardly any cars parked here. Only that one in front of the tattoo parlor.”
“The one up on cinder blocks because its wheels have been removed?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. The one that’s all spray-painted with gang slogans.”
Here’s the thing. I’m not all that brave, and I’m not genius brilliant. I think I get by because I have some common sense and I persevere. And common sense told me that most self-respecting gangbangers weren’t out stealing cars and shooting people at this hour of the morning. So, the risk of theft and death was greatly diminished.
I parked at the curb, and Lula and I walked into the laundromat. It was standard fare with a row of washing machines and clothes dryers on one side, folding tables in the middle of the floor, and a row of plastic chairs on the other side. There were some vending machines and a couple closed doors at the back of the room. No one was out and about. The place was eerily quiet. Lula and I walked down the row of chairs to the machines dispensing detergent packets, soda, and candy bars.
“Looks like nobody’s home,” Lula said. She knocked once on a door that said LADIES AND GENTS , pushed it open, and looked inside. “Nobody home here either.”
The door next to the candy bars was closed. Office had been written on it with a permanent marker. I opened the door, and Lula and I stepped inside. A woman was sprawled on the floor. Her eyes were open and fixed. Her mouth was open, but her screams were silent. She had a wound on her neck and blood was everywhere. A man dressed in black was bending over her. He looked up when we entered and hissed at us. He had blood on his hands and blood was dripping from his mouth. He catapulted over the woman, shoved Lula out of his way, and ran out of the room and out of the building.
“Holy hell,” Lula said. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she crashed to the floor.
My heart was beating hard in my chest. I instinctively put my hand to my belly in a protective gesture and sucked in air. I fumbled in my pockets, located my phone, and called Morelli.
“I’m in a laundromat on Freemont Street,” I said, “and there’s a woman dead here and there’s blood all over and the vampire knocked Lula out of his way and ran out of the building.”
“Are you pranking me?”
“N-n-no,” I said.
“This for real? Are you okay?”
“I’m sort of shaky, but I don’t think I’m going to throw up. Lula fainted, and she’s still lying here.”
“Step away from the crime scene,” he said. “I’m on my way.”
Lula was mumbling and her eyes were open, but she wasn’t coherent. I grabbed her feet and managed to pull her out of the office.
“Wha…,” Lula said.
“You fainted,” I told her. “Stay down until the paramedics get here.”
“Wha?”
I heard sirens and saw the cop car angle-park. Two uniforms came in. One went to Lula. The other went into the office and closed the door. A fire truck rolled to a stop and the paramedics came in.
I pointed to Lula. “She fainted,” I said to a paramedic. “I don’t know if she hit her head on the floor.”
I moved to the row of seats and sat down. Lula was still on the floor, getting oxygen. I felt like I could use some oxygen, but I didn’t want to look like a wimp.
Morelli walked in and came directly to me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “Mostly,” I said. “I need a Snickers bar.”
“That’s my girl,” Morelli said.
“No, really. Get me a Snickers bar. The machine is in the back.”
Morelli yelled at one of the uniforms. “Jake, get me a Snickers bar from the machine.” He turned back to me. “Talk to me.”
“I got an FTA who was charged with assault. Bit a woman in the neck and said he was a vampire. His name is Zoran something. Owns this laundromat. Lula and I got here, and the place was empty. We went to the office and found this guy bending over a dead, bloody body. He had blood all over his hands and dripping from his mouth. He bolted when he saw us. Knocked Lula aside and ran out.”
“Maybe we should talk about our future and you retiring,” Morelli said.
“Now?”
“Later.”
Jake came over with the Snickers and a Coke.
“I don’t need to retire,” I said, peeling the wrapper away. “I just need a Snickers.”
Lula was on her feet. They walked her over and sat her down next to me.
“I could use a couple candy bars,” Lula said. “They got any Mounds or peanut butter cups?”
Morelli went to the office and minutes later came back to me. “Can you give me a description of the vampire?”
“I didn’t get a good look. He was moving fast once he saw us. I’d say average height and build. Dark brown hair, shot with gray. Caucasian. Dressed in black. Bloody. Fit the description of my FTA.”
“He looked me right in the face when he shoved me out of his way,” Lula said. “His mouth was open, and his tongue was sticking out. And he had fangs. And his eyes were red. I don’t know if vampires are supposed to have red eyes, so he might just be a pothead. It was horrible.” Lula looked past Morelli. “Where’s my candy bars? I need candy bars.”
Jake came with more candy and helped Morelli get Lula and me out to my car.
“Are you okay to drive?” Morelli asked me.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m good. I just had a moment back there.”
“Not every day you interrupt a vampire at feeding time,” Morelli said.
“Do you think he’s really a vampire?”
“No,” Morelli said. “Do you?”
“No,” I said. “I think he’s a crazy person with large canines.”
I buckled myself in, Morelli kissed the top of my head and closed my door. I gave him a small smile and wave and drove away. I got to the corner and looked at Lula, and I knew we were thinking the same thought. What if he really was a vampire?
“I feel better now that I got some sugar in me,” Lula said. “What’s next?”
“I was thinking we could drive by Zoran’s house. Maybe he went home to get clean clothes.”
“And he could be exhausted after killing that lady. And probably he isn’t so hungry anymore,” Lula said. “I got my garlic, but we should go to the hardware store and get a stake to drive into Zoran’s heart before we go into his house.”
“Heart impalement isn’t in my skill set,” I said to Lula.
“Ordinarily I might be able to pull it off, but I’m just recovering from fainting right now,” Lula said.
“Exactly, so we’ll skip the hardware store and go straight to Zoran’s house.”
Lula paged through the file. “He lives a couple blocks from the laundromat. Exeter Street. I know that street. It’s got a bunch of small bungalow-type houses that are kind of nice.”
I drove to Exeter, found Zoran’s house, and parked across the street.
“Now what?” Lula asked.
“We wait.”
“What are we waiting for?”
“We’re waiting for the police to arrive and search the house.”
Ten minutes later, two cop cars and a plainclothes car showed up. Not Morelli. His partner, Jimmy. They walked around the house. Tried the door. Looked in some windows. They couldn’t enter, but I could. Zoran had signed his rights away when he got his bail bond from Vinnie. I could forcibly enter a building if I thought Zoran was in it. I left Lula in the car, and I walked over to Jimmy.
“Do you want me to go in?” I asked him.
“Morelli would ban me from his weekly poker game if I let you go in there,” Jimmy said. “I’d never get any more of his mother’s lasagna. Anyway, I’m pretty sure Djordjevic isn’t home. We looked in all the windows and there’s no blood trail. No Zoran. No blood on any of the door handles. His car is parked in his driveway. He’s only a couple blocks from the laundromat. He probably walked to work. I’m going to leave two guys here to question the neighbors and keep an eye on things.”
“He’s FTA,” I told Jimmy. “I’d appreciate a call if you find him.”
“Sure thing,” Jimmy said.
I went back to my Trailblazer and got behind the wheel. “The perp’s name is pronounced ‘Georgiavich.’?”
“It doesn’t look like it sounds,” Lula said. “It’s not one of those phonetic names, and I don’t see it being a stellar name for a vampire. Georgiavich sounds too happy to belong to a vampire. It makes me think of Georgia peaches. Zoran is a better vampire name. He should just go by Zoran. There’s a bunch of people who just use one name. Dracula for starters. Then there’s Cher and Zorro and Chewbacca, and my favorite is Jungkook.”
“Actually, it’s Count Dracula,” I said.
“Yeah, but his friends call him Dracula.”
I started the car. “Jimmy said there’s no sign that Zoran is in the house. He’s leaving a couple guys here to canvass the neighborhood, so we might as well move on.”
“I’m thinking I need to move on to lunch,” Lula said.
“You just ate five candy bars.”
“They made me jittery. I need some bread and grease to even out the sugar. I need anti-vampire food like a Taylor pork roll sandwich and fries and slaw.”
“Taylor pork roll is anti-vampire food?”
“Hell yeah. You want to be Jersey strong? Eat Taylor pork roll. It’s made in Trenton. It’s full of nitrates so it increases your shelf life. You eat enough and you could live forever. Pino’s makes pork roll on a bun with a fried egg and cheese. I could probably kill a vampire with my bare hands after eating a couple of those babies.”
“That seems like a stretch.”
“I might have exaggerated,” Lula said.
I drove to Pino’s, and we were able to get a booth in the family section. We ordered and I leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Just to review,” I said. “We have Eugene Fleck. He was supposed to show at the courthouse this morning.” I looked at my watch. “There’s still time. He’s got thirty minutes before the court breaks for lunch. Then there’s Bruno Jug. Waiting on a call from him.”
“Could be a long wait,” Lula said.
I nodded. “I can close out Jerry Bottles and his magnificent member. And that leaves Zoran.”
“I can’t get excited about our to-do list,” Lula said. “Eugene Fleck is a sweetie pie, but then you’ve got a mobster who kills people and a vampire who kills people. I’ll probably feel better after I eat my pork roll, but right now a job driving Uber sounds pretty good.”
I called Connie and asked her to check on Eugene. She called back just as our lunch was set on the table.
“Eugene didn’t check in at the courthouse,” Connie said. “And he isn’t answering his phone.”
I moved the call to speakerphone so Lula could hear. “Anything new on Robin Hoodie?”
“He posted a short video this morning. He hijacked a truck filled with cookies last night and unloaded the cookies at two encampments. The police said the truck was full when it was driven off the Blue Moon Diner lot at 10:30 p.m. and found empty in the Walmart parking lot at midnight.”
“Do you know about Zoran?” I asked Connie.
“Only that dispatch sent all hands to the laundromat.”
“Lula and I walked in on a man bending over a dead woman who was bleeding profusely from a wound on her neck. He bolted when he saw us.”
“And you think it was Zoran?”
“The man fit Zoran’s description and they were in Zoran’s office at the laundromat.”
“Was Lula wearing her garlic?”
“No. It was in her tote bag.”
“Just sayin’,” Connie said.
“I hear you.” I hung up and dug into lunch, starting with the slaw. “It sounds like Eugene and Kevin were busy last night,” I said to Lula.
“Yeah, but you didn’t ask any of the right questions. Like how big was the truck and what kind of cookies are we talking about? If it was a Keebler’s elves eighteen-wheeler, that would be one thing, and I would expect there were some Chips Ahoy! and Oreos and Lorna Doones. Or it could have been a Famous Amos truck and then it would have been just chocolate chip. If I was going to hijack a truck to feed to the homeless, I’d look for the Keebler truck because of the variety. Some of the homeless might get migraine from chocolate chips. It’s a common allergy. Although I have to say Amos makes a good cookie.” Lula finished her sandwich and moved on to the French fries. “What’s next on our schedule? I’m voting we go after Eugene, being that he’s the only one who might not want to kill us. And you can see how it all worked out for the best. If we dragged Eugene, off to jail last night, he wouldn’t have been able to redistribute the wealth to the needy today.”
I glanced at my watch. “I have a furniture delivery coming between one and four o’clock. Eugene will have to wait until I get my bed.”
“I’m okay with that,” Lula said. “You can drop me at the office. I want to catch up on Robin Hoodie handing out all those cookies, and it’s better when you watch his videos on Connie’s big monitor. He’s more heroic looking on her monitor than when you see him on your phone and he’s only a half inch tall.”