Page 45 of Skullduggery
WPC Hurst looked very pale; I probably did, too.
‘There is fire damage to some of the historic buildings nearby. Initial estimates suggest costs of around £5,000 for those repairs. General clean-up costs, including removing the charred bone fragments and ash from the scene, will add another few thousand pounds.’
I’d thought I was being a good citizen by setting each body – Chuchi and Vargas included – on fire. I wondered what the clean-up costs would have been if I hadn’t bothered.
‘So,’ he finished, ‘we owe you £3,500. Unfortunately, you now owe the city of Edinburgh an estimated £29,000.’ He waved the piece of paper. ‘Once that amount is settled, I will release your reward.’ He smirked. ‘In cash, as you prefer.’
Hester was furious and even Otis vented his frustration aloud. ‘You … you … you … you can’t do that!’
‘Oh, but I can. It’s the law.’
‘Daisy killed seven vampires! She made your streets safer! She deserves a medal, not a bill!’ Otis squeaked.
He pursed his lips. ‘Them’s the breaks.’
‘But—’
I grabbed hold of Otis and gestured for him to be quiet, then I shook my head at Hester, who had rolled up her sleeves and formed tiny fists with her hands. The last thing we needed was to add assaulting a police officer to our woes. ‘No wonder there’s such a big vampire problem,’ I said icily.
‘Anyone who’s smart knows to stay inside once the sun goes down,’ the policeman replied.
Hurst dropped her head. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. Her apology was heartfelt but it didn’t do me any good. Sorry wouldn’t buy me food or shelter.
I rolled my eyes and walked out of the little police station with far less of a spring in my step than when I’d entered.
‘I hate 1994!’Hester moaned as we plodded dejectedly down bustling Princes Street. I wasn’t convinced that matters would be any different thirty years from now, apart from a lack of vampires to kill. There wouldn’t be many of the fanged fuckers around in the future, although it was astonishing how often the remaining ones seemed to find me.
‘Me too, Hes,’ Otis said. ‘Me too.’
I had less than five pounds in my pocket and a fast-dwindling supply of spider’s silk. I shook my head. ‘We’ll have to throw ourselves on the mercy of the Royal Elvish Institute. I don’t know who was in charge in 1994, and it’s doubtful that anyone will believe we’ve time travelled, but we must try to get them to believe us. There has to be a way to convince them of the truth. We’re out of other options.’
I looked at Hester and Otis, hoping they might have some ideas, but neither of them was looking back at me; they were both staring ahead. ‘Isn’t that Tracey?’ Otis asked.
I squinted. There was a large crowd of people around the entrance to Waverley train station and I couldn’t see what – or who – was holding their attention. My stomach tightened. I desperately hoped there wasn’t a problem and that Tracey was alright.
Feeling very tense, I half-marched, half-ran the final twenty metres before pushing my way through the crowd. A sharp pain stabbed at my chest when I saw that Tracey wasindeed at its centre – but then I realised that she was fine. More than fine.
She was sitting on the ground surrounded by an array of small spray bottles. The people around her were thrusting money in her direction.
‘I’ll give you ten pounds for one!’ a man shouted.
‘I’ll make it twenty!’ said the woman next to him.
When I tried to get closer, the man next to me jabbed me in the ribs with his elbow. ‘Hey! There’s a queue here. Wait your turn!’
I held up my palms, unwilling to get into a fight. My morning had started out badly and I didn’t need another battle on my hands, so I stepped back and watched the proceedings instead.
There was no doubt that what Tracey was doing was illegal, and if PC Grizzly Plod at the police station found out she was selling bottles of an unknown liquid on the street, she’d end up with a hefty fine. But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
I rocked back on my heels and, for the first time since I’d walked out of the police station, I smiled.
‘How do I know it’ll work?’ somebody asked.
‘Seven dead vampires on Brighton Street last night says it does,’ came the answer.
A buzz of delight zipped through me. Otis whispered in my ear, ‘Tracey is selling vamp spray.’
‘Yep.’
