Part Twelve
 

Nick drove up the long and winding driveway to the Billingsly estate.  The
summer leaves flickered in the wind allowing the sun to filter through the
tall old maples that lined the way.  Carrie Clark, Welsly, Billingsly had done
well for herself, but she had wanted it all.  After his visit to see Nat at
the Morgue, it was clear that it would be Carrie's word, and hers alone, that
would get her off.  And with all of her influence, that would be more than
enough.  There was not one piece of evidence that was incriminating.  And
although her past marriages did look bad, no criminal activity could be
proved.  She had committed the perfect crime most likely for the second time,
maybe more.  In less than a decade, she had gone from being a poor servant to
one of the richest and most influential women in Toronto.  It seemed to him,
that she had it all, but she still wanted something from him.  It couldn't be
his wealth like the others, no one knew about that.  He had even contacted
Felix who said that there was nothing to report.  Whatever it was that she
wanted, he was about to find out.  Even though Kenneth Billingsly's death had
been ruled accidental, and the case was closed, Carrie had still summoned him
to discuss matters.  Maybe, she would slip up and provide him with a clue that
could reopen the case.  But she did not need to say anything now, she was free
and clear of all charges.  Did it bother her that he believed her to be a
treacherous killer?

The Caddy came to an abrupt stop in front of the entrance, and he left his car
and looked around.  He had never been to their house, despite numerous
invitations from Carrie, and looking at it now, he had to admit that it was
impressive.  The lawn was manicured for acres and filled with paved gardens of
countless species of plants and flowers.  The structure that stood before him
was imposing, but architecturally true to the Victorian Age that it tried to
reproduce.  It was massive and lavish, and it reminded him of the
ornamentation that was characteristic of the empress Victoria when he was in
Great Britain in the late 1800's.  Memories flooded him of the years that he,
LaCroix, and Janette lived in several such homes as they roamed the country.
Yes, this was a magnificent copy, but he had lived in the originals.  He had
known Queen Victoria well, and she was known to be prudish and clearly
obsessive in her observances of the conventionalities.  So unlike the woman in
whose house he was about to step.

With the doorbell rung, he patiently waited for his encounter with, who in the
past few days, he had come to refer to as the black widow.  The thought of
discussing whatever it was that she wanted, sickened him deeply inside.  The
sun baked down on him, it was hot, but inside he felt cold.  He began to
shiver just as a neatly uniformed servant came to the door and escorted him
in.  The young girl was pleasant as she led him through the grand entrance
room that was opened to the skylights that covered the three-story building.
Looking up, he wondered why she hadn't pushed him from the gallery from the
top of the stairs.  The fall from there would certainly have been fatal.  He
shook his head as he followed the maid.  Carrie most likely did not want to
dirty her house, which he was sure that she cared for more than her late
husband.  Or perhaps she received some extra thrill by inviting so many
important police officials to her crime.  His pulse quickened as the maid led
him to a sitting room, and then left him alone while closing the doors behind
her.

Nick moved to an ornately carved fireplace that looked sterile and cold from
non-use.  Again, a cold shudder ran through him.  He could feel it, something
evil permeated the walls of this house, something predatory.  A sound caught
his attention and like a flash, he turned to its source.  Carrie Billingsly
stood by the doorway with a glass of white wine in each hand.  Using his most
severe and professional voice, he spoke first.

"The Coroner's report came back on your husband.  His death was ruled an
accident."

She moved across the room unaffected by his news, and placed the wine she held
for him on the mantle shelf where he stood.

Seductively, she smiled at him.  "I hope my innocence didn't spoil your
sterling reputation as an ace detective."

He swallowed hard.  "How long did you plan it?"

Her smile widened as she moved to one of the two sofas that faced each other
in front of the fireplace.  Not taking her eyes from him, she gestured then
waited for him to be seated across from her.  "I like your style detective,
very stimulating.  But as your own department stated, it was an accident."

"It was no more an accident than the death of Seymour Welsly.  Wealthy old
men, is it their money that compels you?"

"I see that you have been doing your homework, and if you have done it well,
then you should have seen that I am as much a victim to tragedy as they were.
I have lost my parents, my employer, and two husbands at a relatively young
age."

"This is far from over.  The insurance company for Kenneth will investigate
further before paying off such a high claim."

"They could investigate all they want.  With your department's findings, I
would have no trouble.  However, to show my sincerity, I had my attorney
notify them this morning that I will not be pursuing any claims.  It was
against his advice, but they seemed quite content about the grieving widow's
wishes to not benefit from such a tragedy.  So you see Nicholas, there will be
no further inquires."

Anger and frustration crept through his veins; she would really get away with
her acts of murder.  She was cunning.  She knew full well that there would be
no evidence to convict her beyond a reasonable doubt.  And by inviting so many
to the crime scene, she could not have paid for better witnesses to her
husband's drinking which led to his fall.  A sinking feeling suddenly seized
him; he had still not spoken with her about why she had invited him here
today.  The time to find out what lay in store was now.

"Is there a reason, other than to gloat, that you needed to see me?"

"I never gloat, that would be undignified."

"And murder for money is not beneath you?"

"This obsession with my supposed guilt is beginning to bore me, and there are
so many more interesting things to discuss."

"I do not see anything else for us to discuss."

"But there is Nicholas, so much more.  You for instance."  He glared at her in
silence as she continued.  "I think of us as kindred spirits, and since I met
you, I have not been able to think of much else."

"Especially your husband."

"He is dead, and I do not see how dwelling on his memory now would make the
world a better place."  Moving off her sofa, she went to slide in next to him.
"I am a young woman who has never had a relationship with a man my own age.
I've been lonely for so long, until I found you.  Since the first time I saw
you Nicholas, I have been in love with you."

Standing up, his voice rose, but she also stood to face him.

"Your husband's body has not even been buried yet, and you proposition me?  Of
all the vile creatures that have walked this Earth, I have never seen anything
as repulsive and grotesque as you."

Reflexively, she struck out at him with her open hand, striking him hard
across the face.  "That wasn't personal, you had that coming."

His face stung, but he did not even blink.  Acting business like, he calmly
studied her.  She was correct about them being similar.  He had also been a
cold-blooded killer for enjoyment, money, and for nourishment.  It was
unavoidable that she had seen similar characteristics in him that she herself
possessed.  She had just told him that she loved him, but that was impossible.
He had done nothing to encourage such a relationship and hopefully had not
motivated her to murder.  The side of his face throbbed, as he coldly stared
at her.

"Someone from the department will be here soon to officially explain the
M.E.'s findings."

"Didn't you hear what I just said Nicholas?  I want a new life.  I want to be
free of the past and I want you to be there with me."

He looked at her bewildered.  Was she that misguided that she had convinced
herself to fall in love with him?  As he tried to figure out her motivation,
he spoke to her as straightforwardly as he could.  "I do not love you Carrie.
I do not even like you.  I would suggest that you stop this fantasy of the two
of us."

"It's much too late for that Nicholas.  You see, you are going to marry me."

"Carrie you are disturbed, you need help.  I would never marry you."

"You will come to love me in time, and I for once would like a happy ending.
Don't resist happiness Nicholas."

"Happiness?  You cannot even find it yourself.  What makes you think that you
could supply it to me?"

"We will be good together.  You only think you don't love me.  You only have
to give yourself a chance."

Pushing her away from him, he laughed.  "This is insanity.  There is nothing
between us now, and there will never be.  Nothing would make me marry you!"

Moving towards the door to let himself out, Carrie called out.

"Not even Doctor Natalie Lambert's well being?"

With the mention of her name, he froze by the sitting room's door.  Taking in
a breath to steady himself, he turned back to his hostess who joined him by
the door.  "What does she have to do with this?"

"Why there is so much, I hardly know where to begin.  Let me see..."  Pulling
out a list that was folded in her pocket, she open it and began to read its
contents aloud.

"In the course of her illustrious career, there have been several undocumented
reports of bodies that were either rushed through the Morgue to avoid autopsy
or records that were changed so as not to allow for the true cause of death.
Most, according to lab personnel, were due to exsanguinations yet they were
never handled by anyone but herself.  Strange isn't it?  She falsified records
during the asteroid scare that we had, recording murders as suicides.  And all
these bodies were drained of blood.  Very strange after a witness saw her,
recently tasting my poor dead husband's blood as she examined him.  Actually,
I do not see what you see in her, quite the ghoul."  Moving closer to him, she
continued.  "Then there was the time when your DNA and the murder's DNA were
'accidentally' switched.  But we can all understand how accidents can happen.
If that is not enough to convince you, then I happen to know someone who could
cause a significant problem in her lab.  She always works alone at night.  I
believe that she would have a lot of explaining to do if some custom made
designer drugs were to appear.  But then she does love you, doesn't she?  Does
she kill for you too?  In fact everyone who gets close to you dies.  There
were both of your partners; I believe their names were Donald Schanke and
Tracy Vetter.  And then there was a psychic and a museum curator, and the list
goes on and on.  She sounds dangerous to me."

The tone of his voice darkened.  "Then you should stay away from me."

"What would be the fun in that?  And do you know what I found fascinating, was
that you were the one who saved her the night she almost died.  She was coming
to you.  What was going on between you two?  Do I need to pursue that too?"

A heavy helplessness radiated from him, as he understood to what lengths
Carrie would go to have her way.  This was blackmail pure and simple, and
there would be no doubt that Carrie would destroy Nat's career and maybe have
her face criminal changes if he did not cooperate.  Nat would not even
remember all the cover-ups of vampire kills that she had concealed.  The
community would be outraged at such a public display, that there would be many
more deaths possibly even Nat's.  If he did as she asked, then it would only
involve a short time.  He had less than three years left as a mortal.  By that
time, he would have to move on anyway.  There were no other options for now,
he had to agree with her demands.  There would be three years, and then he
would disappear, taking Carrie's memories with him.  He looked up into her
confident eyes.  "I will not deny that Dr. Lambert and I were friends, but
that is all there was.  I would not want to see her harmed, and is this really
how you want to start a relationship?  What kind of marriage would this be?"

Unfazed by any possible complications, she ignored his questions.  "After the
funeral, Nicholas, I will be going away for several weeks to settle my nerves.
I will have all arrangements complete for the ceremony by the time I get
back."  Moving to him until their bodies touched, she gently ran her hand over
his cheek that was still flushed from her slap.  "We'll make a beautiful
couple.  You'll see Nicholas, I will make you happy."

Internally, he shuddered at her touch, and he could not remember why humanity
was a superior state to vampirism.  This is what he had asked LaCroix to grant
him.  If he had to do it over again, he would have chosen death for both
himself and Nat. What kind of lives had he bargained for?  Nat was locked out
of her past, and now he was locked out of his future.  Pulling away from her,
he walked out of the room and towards the front door, letting himself out.

Carrie moved to the multi-paned window, and watched as Nick drove off in his
Caddy.  He certainly was nice looking, it would be harder to kill him, but
then how else could she get control his fortune?  Once he signed the marriage
certificate, she did not care who he loved.  This would be her last marriage;
it was getting time to retire.  There were many places in the Caribbean to
retreat to, and use her endless wealth.  The interest alone from the de
Brabant Foundation would forever keep her bathed in luxury.  Stepping back
from the window, she stared at the still full glass of wine he had left on the
mantle.  Poison was always such a clean death, but there was no time to plan
his demise now.  For now, she had to pack for her trip.

                                   --------

Mark dropped another bag of radiated samples into the bright red biohazard
plastic container just as another coughing spell forced him to sit down.
Natalie had been pleading with him to see a doctor, but he was too close to
finding an answer.  Anyway, Natalie was now showing more than triple the
numbers of special nucleotides than she had only eighteen months ago at the
Billingsly's tragic anniversary party.  Her condition was progressing fast.
Luckily, he had been able to keep the not quite dead body, which he had
exhumed, from being discovered.

Grabbing a pair of fresh gloves, he picked up a scalpel and walked over to
Urs. Glancing down at her body, he still marveled at her state as he leaned
over her to take a small amount of tissue from her skin.  In the past couple
of years, he must have taken over one thousand samples only to come back an
hour later to find her completely healed.  He walked back into his lab to
prepare the sample for another round of radiation.  How he wished that he did
not have to do this, but unless Natalie was cured soon, she would surely
evolve into a vampire.  He knew that her infertility was a result of that
unexplainable nucleotide in her DNA.  They both wanted children so badly, his
experiments had to work.  Turning back to Urs's room to turn out the light, he
froze in his tracks.  The patch of skin that he had just removed was now fully
healed.  That was the fastest healing that she had ever done.  This had to be
a sign that she would soon be waking up.  Fear tore a path through him.  What
would he do if she woke up?
 

End Part Twelve

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