Chapter Twelve

Max's replacement didn't look at me when I walked outside. I ignored the bellman rather than asking him what Jeremy had said and risking giving myself away to someone who seemed to hate my guts.

I marched in the direction of St James's Road and the DeVane Hotel. I'd try and find Tallulah before breaching the expensive hotel. If the car was anywhere in the vicinity, she wouldn't be hard to spot. I held the crossbow loosely at my side, doing my best to appear casual about it, because nothing proclaims confidence more than relaxed insouciance.

It still wasn't late and there were quite a few people out on the streets. I passed three young men who I was certain were werewolves. They goggled at me, stared at the crossbow in my hand then darted off, no doubt to tattle to their wolfy superiors. Let them. I meant business and I didn't care who knew it. The more supes who were wary of me, the better.

I nodded at the tourists who stopped to check me out, and frowned in warning at the woman who was approaching to ask for a selfie. She pulled back and I kept walking, maintaining a good pace but not hurrying. I didn't want to appear panicked to anyone watching me.

I made a point of avoiding St Erbin's Church. Regardless of my weapon and my bravado, I had limits – and the dark streets were making me jumpy, no matter how much I acted to the contrary.

I skirted round St James's Park, taking care to stay out of the deepest shadows. The traffic was reasonably light but there were still plenty of cars passing. More than one driver beeped their horn at me, though I wasn't sure why. Hello, I can see you and I've noted that you're carrying a lethal weapon in your hand? Or something to that effect.

I didn't react, but I was glad to be noticed. Their attention made it less likely that I'd be grabbed from the bushes on my right. I did cut across into a side street when I spotted two police officers out on patrol, though; The last thing I wanted was to explain myself to them, even if we were on the same side.

St James's Road was wide and stretched for about a mile. I turned and walked northwards towards the Thames river, which lay not far beyond. I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Tallulah. There wasn't much on-street parking here, but that wouldn't have stopped Tony.

I walked past a sports field and a church and passed beneath the boughs of several large trees before emerging at a crossroads. The road continued; I was just about to cross over when I noted a Tesco Express and a leather-clad woman standing outside it. She had long black hair tied into a plait. From her tightly bound corset to her knee-high stiletto boots, her clothes screamed ‘look at me'. But it wasn't her showy attire that gave me pause, it was her red-lipsticked smile and the glimpse of pearly-white fangs.

I walked towards her. When she saw me coming, she licked her lips in predatory anticipation. Then her eyes dropped to my crossbow and her expression changed.

‘Good evening,' I called as I approached.

‘Why are you carrying that thing?' she asked, dispensing with any niceties and getting straight to the point. She spoke with a rough London accent that was at odds with her immaculate appearance. ‘Only Supe Squad are allowed shit like that.' She paused. ‘Unless you're looking for trouble.'

Her last comment was more for herself than me. She was trying to convince herself that she wasn't scared. Two days earlier, I wouldn't have been able to recognise that.

‘Well,' I answered with a smile, ‘as it turns out I am with Supe Squad.'

‘No, you ain't.'

I raised an eyebrow. ‘So you know DC Brown?'

‘'Course I know him. Everyone knows him.'

I kept my eyes on her face and adjusted my grip on the crossbow so she didn't forget I was holding it – and that it was loaded. Go me. I could be intimidating, after all.

‘When was the last time you saw him?' I asked.

She didn't answer. Instead, she curled her lips into a sneer. ‘He don't carry that shit with him. Not ever.'

I didn't flinch. ‘That's his choice.'

The vamp looked me up and down, her confidence growing until a thought occurred to her and she took a step back. ‘Wait,' she said. ‘Are you D'Artagnan?'

I froze. How in hell had she heard that name? ‘How do you know that?' I demanded.

She paled. ‘I'm sorry,' she whispered. She lifted her chin. ‘You were asking about Brown. The last time I saw him was Thursday.'

Thursday was a lifetime ago, long before the thought of Supe Squad had occurred to me, but I wasn't about to ignore her sudden willingness to answer my questions. ‘You're sure?'

She nodded. ‘He was on Brewer Street. He hangs out there quite a lot.'

My eyes narrowed. ‘Anywhere in particular?'

‘Usually the Pulteney.'

‘That's a pub?'

‘Yeah.' The vamp sucked her bottom lip; it made her fangs protrude more than normal. It wasn't an alluring look. ‘I helped you, right? I answered your questions?'

‘I have one more. How did you know I was called D'Artagnan? Where did you hear that name?' If she hadn't seen Tony since Thursday,it certainly hadn't been from him.

Her eyes flicked nervously from side to side. ‘Everyone knows.'

‘Everyone?'

The vamp stared at me, then her muscles tensed and she sprang away. I blinked. She moved so fast that I didn't even see where she'd gone. I glowered at the spot where she'd been standing. I had a strong suspicion I knew who'd told everyone my nickname. I also had a strong suspicion that he'd appear out of nowhere again very soon.

***

With no sign of Tallulah on St James's Street – and not a flicker of a shadow from any other vampires – I wheeled round and headed for the DeVane. It was so close that Tony could conceivably have driven there without getting picked up again by ANPR. If he'd parked there and was now sitting at the bar sipping a champagne cocktail, I'd kill him myself. My fingers tightened around the crossbow. Oh God. I hoped against hope that was exactly what he was doing.

There was something about the fa?ade of the hotel that always made me think of Paris. Not that I'd ever been to Paris, but I'd seen enough of the French capital on television to know that the glitzy DeVane was designed with that intention. I'd never set foot inside it – why would I have? It was the sort of place that's very existence made someone on my salary feel inadequate.

I didn't allow that to show on my face; when I approached the steps, I straightened my back and sauntered up them as if I belonged there. It didn't do me any good. Before I could get within touching distance of the door, I was stopped by the bellman.

Max and his grumpy colleague were well-dressed, but this guy was on another level. I swear I could see my reflection in the gold buttons adorning his long coat. ‘Good evening, ma'am,' he said, doffing his hat. He didn't drop his gaze to my crossbow, but I knew he'd clocked it. ‘Are you residing in the hotel?'

Obviously not. I was still dressed in the death garments Laura had given to me, and I definitely didn't look like I could afford to stay there. I doubted that all the money in my bank account would pay for a cup of tea here.

I flashed him a tight, professional smile. ‘I'm here on police business. I'd like to speak to the hotel manager as soon as possible.'

The bellman didn't miss a beat and his expression didn't alter. Man, this guy was good. ‘Do you have an appointment?'

‘No, but it's a matter of extreme urgency.'

His training had clearly prepared him for every challenge. The last thing the hotel wanted was an armed woman hanging around the opulent lobby, but neither did they want to antagonise the police. They knew their business – and so did the bellman.

‘Please take the side entrance.' He gave me brief directions. ‘I'll ensure that someone meets you there.' He turned away to greet the next guests in exactly the same manner he'd spoken to me, despite their considerably more expensive clothes and their high-born demeanour. I was impressed.

I murmured my thanks, although I wasn't sure he heard me, and walked round to the trade entrance. It suited me; now that I was within the relative safety of the hotel, the fewer curious eyes I encountered the better.

I'd just gone inside when a woman wearing a neat suit approached me. Her name tag proclaimed her as one of the assistant managers. I gave her a perfunctory smile and she returned the favour. ‘My name is Wilma Kennard,' she said. ‘May I see some identification, please?'

I pulled out my trainee's warrant card and passed it over, aware that this was where things might get dicey. ‘I'm with Supe Squad,' I said quietly. ‘I'm not yet properly qualified as a detective, but I am a certified member of the Metropolitan police force. My mentor, Detective Constable Brown, has gone missing and his trail leads here. I need to locate him before his disappearance creates a bigger incident.'

Wilma Kennard winced. If there was one thing worse than having a crossbow-bearing police officer wandering through your hotel and scaring your guests, it was having an entire troop of police officers searching your hallways for a missing colleague. Trainee or not, she wanted to deal with me with the least amount of possible fuss; if that meant giving me access, that was what she was prepared to do.

She passed my warrant card back to me. ‘Follow me, Miss Bellamy.'

We tracked through the narrow staff corridor to a small office not far from the door marked ‘Lobby'. Kennard motioned me to a chair, sat behind the desk and started to tap at her computer keyboard.

A frown creased her forehead as she scanned the screen. ‘We have an Anthony Brown who checked in last night,' she told me. ‘He walked in off the street and paid up front for two nights.'

I sucked in a breath. So Tony was here. A wave of relief – followed immediately by a flash of anger – rippled through me. He was holed up in a swanky room ordering room service and enjoying himself.

Kennard tapped a few more keys, the furrow in her brow deepening. ‘He has a Do Not Disturb sign on his door, so his room wasn't cleaned this morning.'

My stomach muscles tensed again. ‘No one has seen him since last night?' I leaned forward. ‘Has he ordered any food? Been to the bar? Used the phone?'

Kennard raised her eyes to mine. ‘No, none of that.'

I swallowed. Tony didn't strike me as the kind of bloke who would empty an expensive minibar; neither was he a man who would skip meals.

‘I have one thing here,' she said. ‘I doubt it's helpful. He phoned in a complaint not long after he checked in. He called housekeeping and said that his fridge wasn't working properly. We offered to check it over and fix it in the morning. He said that he'd manage without it, and that he'd rather not be disturbed.' She shrugged. ‘That's all I've got.'

‘When did he make that call?'

She frowned at the computer. ‘Just before 1am.'

Tony was as much of a night owl as the vamps. I sucked on my bottom lip and tried to think of where to go next. ‘Do you have any camera footage from when he checked in?' I asked finally. ‘Or from outside his room?'

‘I can't show you any of that if you haven't got a warrant. I'm not being obstructive, it's merely procedure.'

I cursed inwardly and thought some more. A hotel like this would have a state-of-the-art keycard system that must have electronic records. ‘How about his door?' I could feel a prickle of urgency between my shoulder blades. ‘Can you tell me when it was opened?'

Kennard shook her head. ‘Again, Miss Bellamy, without a warrant that's not possible.' She paused. ‘But if you're genuinely concerned for his well-being—'

‘I am.'

‘Then I can take you up to his room and we can check on him.'

I immediately stood up. ‘Let's go.'

If I'd had my way, I'd have sprinted to Tony's room. At least the assistant manager had a brisk gait; no doubt she was keen to confirm Tony's presence and get rid of me as quickly as possible.

We took the service lift then marched along the fourth-floor corridor to Tony's room. There was indeed a Do Not Disturb sign hanging from the doorknob.

I glanced at Wilma and knocked. ‘Tony!' I called. ‘It's Emma. Are you in there?'

There was no answer. Kennard took over and rapped on the door. ‘DC Brown? This is Wilma Kennard. I apologise for disturbing you, but we need to confirm that you're alright.'

Again, no answer. Kennard waited for a few seconds then reached into her suit pocket, took out a keycard and unlocked the door. She nudged it open slightly and called again, ‘Hello? DC Brown?'

I'd had enough. I pushed past her and walked inside, noting the sour smell in the air. The television in the corner was turned on but the sound was muted. The bed was rumpled, although it looked like it hadn't been slept in. An open magazine lay on one of the small bedside tables next to several opened miniatures of vodka. I glanced at it and pursed my lips. Unpleasant-looking porn.

I scratched my head while Kennard checked the bathroom. My eyes drifted towards the wardrobe. The door was open, blocking my view. I sidled over and checked inside. A split second later, I desperately wished I hadn't.

‘Anything?' Kennard enquired.

I stared at Tony's naked body hanging inside the wardrobe, a blue tie looped around his neck.

My crossbow fell to the floor.