***
It was a typical vampire's parlor. Nonetheless, the typicality expanded and expounded, quite expectedly for the wealthiest woman in the city of Beckan. An ornate fireplace gaped like a beastly maw with fire-poker fangs. There were two mostly naked female vampire statues on either side. Despite being well-lit, the room was soaked in shadows. The mantel conveyed a priceless collection of coveted creations, too old to conflate with mere antiquity. The sense of wealth was far less imposing than the fantastic store of history idly displayed on end tables and bookshelves. A set of gargoyle statues worth a small fortune found new lives keeping ancient, hardcover tomes upright. Pristine paintings, placed tastefully on each wall, bilked any estimation of price or age, but promised neither to be a low sum.
Dame Venetti, lacking her servant, casually lit a fire after escorting her new guests to a couple of large, handmade chairs. Happigo found the spaciousness of the room and the warmth of the fire soothing. She would probably not make it back out tonight, and luxury was luxury. Dame Venetti quickly had the fire roaring, and she took a seat on the sofa, which was about the size of any three sofas Happigo had ever owned. Also, it had tassels.
Venetti was a pale, thin woman with a youthful complexion. Her clothes were extravagant and lacy. In complete defiance of historical precedent, her aristocratic aura could have repelled bullets. Leaning against the arm of the sofa with an inappropriately mysterious smile, she answered Happigo's questions.
"Golucki made a fine duck for dinner, as well as six side dishes. He served most of the food, with some help from Nist, and the rest of us were small-talking about various business. I don't think anyone was really interested in my antiques, except maybe Talatia. Ah, she absolutely adored my Craldoran table settings. She likes art and antiques. We talked about fur trades and a lot of old books... Pardon my timing, but I must say Harles bored us all about his books, the poor fellow. You understand I'm a little numb to death, correct? Poor Harles was a friend, but you know how it is with my kind."
Happigo nodded. The Bloodeye family had a disturbing collection of tales, passed on in what Happigo recalled as a trauma-inducing oral tradition. "Tell me about Mr. Harles. Who is he? What did he do?"
"Oh, Harles is a wolf in the old sense, practically, except a complete gentleman as well. He's a book collector, deals in rare books, that sort of fellow. Was. When we heard the scream and ran upstairs, I was so terribly upset to see him that way. Such a fine, fine fellow. Boring, but do you know he even lent me some books written by my ancestors? Really old stuff. Should have been dust, but they were somehow preserved."
"Who screamed?"
"It was Nist. She found him in my room, of all places. I can't imagine what he was doing in there. I know it sounds ridiculous, being a vampire and his being a wolf, but he was as close to a companion as I had. I can't think of a reason he would invade my sanctum, but I know he must have had a good one. He was murdered, and I believe he died trying to protect me in some way. Perhaps I was being robbed. Perhaps someone was lying in wait for me. I can only guess."
Happigo listened, but Venetti seemed distracted. Happigo noticed that the vampire kept glancing away. Dame Venetti did not come off as the kind of person who showed nervousness. Vampires weren't very nervous creatures in general. Happigo became very conscious of her eye, knowing that the Dame found it upsetting. As a matter of tact, Happigo respectfully pretended not to notice. "What state was he in? As in, what shape?"
"That was the strangest thing of all. I mean, there wasn't even a full moon. But there he was, like...that." Venetti made a circle with her two index fingers, as if that meant something. It didn't. Not to Happigo, at least. But the point was made: Benton Harles had, for whatever reason, transformed before being murdered.
"Tell me about your guests. Do any of them know Mr. Harles outside of having met him here tonight?"
"Corund knew him, and had supplied him with books before. Corund has a lot of old books. He wrote some of them. His kind always have time for writing. I don't know about the Whitetails, but people like us...you know, the aristocrats, and not just vampires...tend to keep close circles, so I would guess they'd met him elsewhere. Nist and Golucki have met him here before, but you can ask them about it. I don't know of any resentments, though I doubt Corund had any. And Golucki doesn't leave the house enough to form resentments toward anyone."
Lieutenant Lily chimed in at this point. "I don't suppose it's possible the murderer isn't one of your guests?"
"Between Mr. Harles and the Whitetails, I doubt any intruder would have gone unnoticed. Their noses are too sensitive, even while human. You know this, of course. Mr. Harles would have told me right away if he smelled someone he did not recognize. I don't want to accuse my guests, and I can see nothing that points to anyone in particular, but I see no way for an intruder to have slipped inside."
Lieutenant Lily probed further, quite unnecessarily, in Happigo's opinion. "What about someone like you? No smell. They could go unnoticed."
"Yes, but what about getting in? You know the rules. We kind of have to knock."
Happigo agreed. "Everyone else would have been noticed by at least three guests, and if Mr. Harles was attacked by a vampire, the vampire would first have to be invited into the house. So the odds are in favor of the murderer being someone present here tonight. It is possible that a guest could have invited a vampire inside, but in that case someone here would still be an accomplice."
"I suppose he could have been attacked through an open window," Lily tried. They both looked at her, astonished.
"Ridiculous! Do I look like some kind of new-age, sunlight-sucking half-breed?" Venetti snapped. Lily winced.
Never challenge a vampire in her authenticity. Lily, being a werewolf, naturally carried a subconscious, crude indifference to the regality of the ancient, undead masters of the dark.
"The Dame would never have windows, Lily. Not in her room. No, the possibilities are limited to the guests here, all of whom would not be considered intruders."
Happigo asked, "Is there anyone we can eliminate?"
Dame Venetti waved off one member immediately. "Naturally, we all asked Golucki. He's out. He was working in the kitchen. I disappeared into the hallway for a drink. Not the kind I'd drink in front of guests, you understand. So you'll have to ask them."
"I shall. Two questions. Have your guests been in this house often? And why was Nist in your room?"
"Nist was fetching my special diamond bracelet from my dresser. Talatia had heard about it and wanted to see. As for my guests, the Whitetails were not regular visitors. Honduras was here once, but he was stopping by because he was in town, and I wasn't available that day, so he never made it further than the gate. Talatia has never been here. I met her once while I was out shopping with Nist. Mr. Harles will be a lot less regular, I'm afraid."
"I'd like to talk to Nist next, if I could."
Lily looked surprised. "Not Golucki?"
"No. Nist found the victim. She had the most time to take it all in. I want her reaction. If you could, Dame Venetti?"
The Dame rose and gave a bow. "I'd like to say that I don't hold any grudges toward you for your family history, Happigo Bloodeye. Most of us vampires don't. Times have changed. But I wish you well on your hunt tonight. Your family has always proved capable in a hunt."
She swaggered away, the red tails of her coat swishing back and forth as she exited the room through the large, carved, double doors. Happigo had to turn away.
"You okay, Happigo?"
"It's the red again. I hate working around vampires. They love red."
"You have red hair. That doesn't bother you, right?"
"Have you ever been to my office? Or my house? I don't have mirrors."
Lily shrugged. "I always heard a Bloodeye should never look in a mirror."
"That's stupid. We just don't."
"
Hm..." Lily said, ponderously. "Hm..."