An Old Friend Of The Family (Saberhagen's Dracula Book 3), Fred Saberhagen [best large ereader .txt] 📗

who that was. Your psychopathic playmate Winter or whatever the hell you think I ought to call him. Who else does things like that? But if he ever comes after me, baby, he’s not going to get within arm’s length of me alive.”

    “It was not M’sieu Winter who did it, either. Please get up and dress.”

    “Why should I?” But there was a certain psychological disadvantage in nakedness when she stood there like a nurse, so before it could become a real issue Walworth got out of bed and started rooting for some clothes. He said: “You’re too smart to stick with a crazy like him. So why try to cover up for him with me, of all people?”

    “I am not covering up. It is just that I still need Winter for a while, or at least I would like to be able to use him.”

    “Just like me,” he mocked.

    “Exactly. So please, Craig, can you take seriously the warning I am about to give you? Whether or not you are arrested is almost of no consequence any more—”

    “Don’t pretend you’re crazy, baby! I know better.” He jiggled himself into his pants, pulled up the zipper.

    “—but there is a certain old man you must look out for, Craig. Of course he many not look like an old man when you see him…” Carol sighed prettily, a concerned nurse whose patient just will not cooperate. “I’m really not getting through, am I? I was considering sending Winter over to be your bodyguard for a while, but now I don’t think I’d better.”

    Walworth snorted, tucking his shirt into his pants. He decided to leave the shirt open halfway down the front. “Damn right you hadn’t better. What is all this shit, all of a sudden? ‘Don’t bother to worry about the cops, Craig.’ ‘You may not last out the night anyway, Craig.’ I’ll last out the night, baby. ‘Be nice to Winter, Craig.’ You’re setting up something. Hey, is this where you try at last to stick it to me for some money? Enchantress Cosmetics not making a profit after all?”

    There was an edge in Carol’s voice now. “Don’t give me any money, please. I probably have more than you.”

    “Hah.”

    “But do watch out for the old man. He is the one who pulled off Gruner’s fingers. He may well be coming after you tonight. I’m sure Gruner must have told him your name.”

    “And yours too, huh?” Walworth smiled, unable to concentrate enough to decide which shoes he ought to wear; this was really getting entertaining.

    “He knows my name already. He’s mentioned in the news stories, by the way, as a Dr. Corday of London. He’s called himself that before.”

    “Oh? So, who is he really, Al Capone?”

    “I see now you would only laugh like an idiot if I tried to tell you his real name, so never mind. Among other things he is an old friend of the Southerland family. And a very old enemy of mine.”

    Sitting on the bed with one sock half on, Walworth paused. “You’re telling me, in this newly devious way of yours, that it’s not an accident after all that we picked the Southerlands.”

    “Not a bit of an accident.” Carol folded her arms. She was not a nurse any more; maybe the president of a company.

    “Now wait a minute. The object was, we were going to look for some new kicks, right? Pick out a family and just utterly destroy them. An ultimate kick, better than just a simple killing. Right?”

    “So it was presented to you at the time. So you thought you were presenting the idea to me.”

    “All right, say the idea was something you conned me into. Picking the Southerlands as the target must have been at random. Winter tore a page out of the Glenlake phone book—”

    “A selected page.”

    “All right, say you fixed that too. Then I pinned the page up on the wall myself, and you stood clear across the room and tossed the dart. Don’t tell me you could have hit a name on purpose from that distance. Hell, you couldn’t even have seen it. You were lucky to hit the page, even.”

    “I can do many things, Craig, that you would not credit as being possible. So can the old man. I think I may send Winter over, after all, when he gets back.”

    “I may not let him in.”

    Carol stared at him a long moment, different emotions contending in her face. Then it was as if she gave up. Fought to keep herself from dissolving in laughter, but had to yield at last. “Oh, Craig, Craig, but you are such an innocent! Haven’t you yet understood the first simple truth about me? And the man you know as Winter? We are vampires, dear. You’ve asked us both in here already. Do you think that you can now simply tell us to stay out, and we will?”

    Walworth stood up in his socks. He had a growing feeling of unreality, and if he thought about it, he would have to admit that fright was growing too. “I’ve got a gun. I tell you, I’ll blow that bastard Winter’s head off, right on my own doorstep if I have to.” The police would then come down on him for sure. His connection with the kidnapping would almost certainly come out, and he would be fighting in a courtroom for his life. Somehow he had always felt sure that, sooner or later, things would come to that.

    She was calm and almost pleasant again. “Go get your gun, Craig dear. Right now. I want to show you something.”

    He looked uncertainly at her.

    “Oh, all right, never mind the pistol. It would probably only