Alright, Skyline Apartments, home sweet home.
Hopefully Paul's talkative and I don't have to start some wild goose chase looking for a plague bearer.
The door of the elevator slides open. According to the name on the mailbox, this is Paul's place. I'll probably need to break the lock or kick it in.
Hmm. Open.
And dark.
I hope Paul doesn't have a habit of bouncing around or talking out of the blue because he's going to get his ass shot off.
"Paul! Hey, Paul, Red-Headed Bitch wanted me to talk to you."
"Unless you're some kind of idiot who leaves their door unlocked, I know you're home so you might as well come out. I'm not going to shoot you or punch you until your jaw comes off I mean you probably get that a lot."
"You know how many fucking trees are dying to power that fridge light, Paul?"
"Ah, shit. Fuck you, Paul."
There's a red light glowing on the answering machine by the phone and voice messages have never failed me in the past. I take a hand off the Ingram and hit play.
"Hi, Paul. It's-" The voice on the other end goes into a coughing fit. It starts again, even more stuffed and nasally than before. "-it's Hannah. Listen I-" More coughing. "-I had a really good time last night, I... I'm coming down with something, though... I... can't seem to get out of bed. That's... why I called, actually... could you... get me some cough medicine? I ran out of everything I had up here..." The next fit of coughing lasts almost a minute. "S-sorry about that, just... if you could bring up some cough medicine. Uh. Code on the door is 1203. T-Thanks, Paul. Talk to you soon." The message ends in the middle of more coughing.
Hannah has the penthouse, if I remember right from the mailboxes. I take the elevator out of Paul's apartment. I'll tell... Skelter what happened. No sense calling the authorities.
The doors slide open and I step out of the car, punching the number into Hannah's security system.
I hope Hannah's not in the habit of coughing real suddenly or real loud.
It's like no one in this damn building knows what a lightbulb is.
I head up the stairs and start poking around the rooms. Layout's the same as my place, so she should be in the bedroom.
"Hannah!"
Hannah, if you're dead I'm going to shoot you because I'm not going to talk to a bunch of disease ridden bums.
"Paul! You ca- Hey! Hey, you're not Paul! Wha-What are you doing here?"
"I'm sorry for the intrusion, but this site's been declared a national emergency. I'm with CDC, we were told you'd come down with symptoms corresponding to an infection by Rembrandt Number Five."
Hopefully my outline looks formal enough and it's too dark for her to see the blood on my shirt. I suppose I could just
brain fuck her or whatever the hell it is I can do, but after Heather... I'm not so sure about using this stuff without actually understanding it.
"Wh.. I... I don't really know. I've taken all kinds of medicine but... it isn't going away. Who... who told I was-"
"We talked to a man by the name of Paul Anderson, he said you'd been feeling sick lately."
"He did?" She coughs. "That's so sweet... nice guy... is everything okay with him?"
"Hannah, we need you to tell us when you first got sick, did you go anywhere or meet anyone you think might have caused it?"
She pauses for another coughing fit before answering.
"Well I think I got sick-" Coughing "-from one of my... my clients. I was doing fine until I... uh, I saw her a few days ago."
"Who was it?"
"She was just a woman who called. She ah... she found my ad in the newspaper." Minor coughing fit. "-I usually only do business with referrals, you know? But... she was offering a lot of money."
I kneel down next to the bed. I think I've hit the jackpot.
"
Who was it?"
Hannah coughs and answers quickly.
"Her name was Jezebel. Jezebel Locke. I'm usually not too good with names, you know, but... hers was so strange... I can't get it out of my head."
"You spent the night with her?"
"Y... Yeah. I mean... I think so." Coughs. Her voice is getting weaker. "To tell you the truth I don't really remember a whole lot about that night, you know?" Coughing. "Everything's a little... blurry, you know? I mean I'm not usually, you know, into women... but I remember feeling so attracted to her... I thought she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen."
"The next thing... that's clear is when I woke up the next morning. I... I haven't been feeling to well since then. To... tell you the truth I've got friends who... ah... who've worked with her you know, and they're not doing too hot either..."
"Where did you see her?"
"She... had a room at the empire hotel... can't remember the number..." I stand and she struggles to look up at me. "Hey... hey you never answered me about Paul, he's alright isn't he?"
I adjust the sleeves of my shirt, a futile attempt at neatness given the blood on the front and around the collar.
"Paul Anderson is dead on his floor from the blood born disease
you gave to him. I imagine he'll be there a few more days before we're able to gather up his body. Thank you for your assistance, Miss Glazer. I'd offer you compensation, but I don't think you'll be around long enough to appreciate it."
"No! Paul... not Paul, it isn't true... it isn't..." She starts sobbing in between her coughing fits, each one building like it's trying to drown out the other. Her body spasms twice before the noise stops and the room falls silent. No more movement, no sounds of breathing.
Gutter trash.
Too bad about Paul, though. I'm sure he was a nice enough ghoul.
I leave the room and take the elevator down to the lobby. Then it's just a short walk around the corner.
Something wicked this way comes.