The aide returned with agents Neuhaus and Heany. Their carefully applied nonchalant expressions disappeared at the sight of Augustus. Seeing two tough guys goggle elicited a snicker from me. I liked not being the only one starstruck by the rare being.
Tristan reclaimed their attention. “Agents Neuhaus and Heany. I’ve been expecting you.”
They exchanged looks, putting their professional attitudes back on. “You have, huh? And why is that, Mr. Keith?” Neuhaus asked.
“I’ve claimed the body of the latest victim to be killed by one of my own kind. You would be remiss to not question me about that.”
Heany clasped his hands in front of him, eyeing Tristan severely. “All right then, Mr. Keith, what is your interest in Brandilynn Payson?”
Tristan stepped away, going to his desk and sitting behind it. With a wave of his hand he invited the agents to sit in the two chairs on the other side. They took their seats and waited expectantly.
Tristan smiled, as charming as a predator can manage to appear. “Seeing as how it’s a vampire killing these poor women, I’ve kept informed on every detail of the case. Some of my information has come from Brandilynn herself.”
The agents jerked as if they’d been hit by an electrical shock. “Her ghost has been found?” Neuhaus asked. “Has she named her killer?”
“What does it matter? The testimony of the dead isn’t admissible in court.”
That was true. Under law, the accused must be able to face their accuser at a trial. Since too few of the living can hear the dead, nothing the deceased say can be used as evidence. That went for both the police and the courts.
Neuhaus huffed his displeasure. “If you have any information, we want it.”
Tristan pursed his lips. “I wish I had something to tell you that would help your investigation. The vampire who killed Brandilynn glamoured her into forgetfulness. Plus the trauma she suffered has also blocked attempts to get at the truth of the attack.”
The Judge drifted close to Heany, who looked up into the cadaverous face and shifted a fraction of an inch away. He returned his gaze to Tristan with seeming effort. “What’s that got to do with claiming her body?”
Tristan smiled benignly, but I caught a glimpse of anger behind the calm expression. “What happened to this lovely young woman is a travesty, as it was for all the women the Ripper has claimed. I feel some measure of responsibility for their loss. My interest in Brandilynn isn’t exceptional. I’ve offered compensation to the families of all the victims.”
Not exceptional, huh? I wondered what the agents would think if they knew about our post-mortem intimacies.
Heany exchanged a long look with his partner. “I wasn’t aware that you had approached the other victims’ families.”
Tristan’s smile appeared genuinely amused this time. “Most humans aren’t fond of others knowing their dealings with paras. Thirty years of integration hasn’t cured prejudice by any means.”
Neuhaus’ eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How much money are we talking?”
“It depends on the circumstances. Families supporting the children of the victims were given the most benefit.”
“Some might think that’s an indication of guilt.”
Tristan nodded, unruffled by Neuhaus’ bulldoggish attitude. “Indeed, guilt has a part in my efforts. As leader of Fulton Falls’ vampire clutch, I feel responsible that one of my own has committed these heinous crimes. Until he is captured and punished, I must make reparations.”
I snorted to Augustus. “Tristan sounds like he swallowed a dictionary, for pete’s sake. He doesn’t talk like a professor when he’s a ghost.”
Augustus spoke very quietly, his voice barely a whisper to avoid attention. “Education impresses some more than power.”
I eyed Neuhaus and Heany, watching how they glared at Tristan. “Yeah, those agents are desperate to break this case, and just about any vampire will do. He’d better impress them but good if he doesn’t want to find a pair of silver cuffs on his wrists.”
Heany got back to the point. “So what about Brandilynn Payson? Claiming her body is going beyond the call of duty, don’t you think?”
Tristan folded his hands on the top of the desk, leaning forward to address them like trusted confidantes. “I don’t believe so. She was disowned by her parents for her choice of lifestyle, which was admittedly morally suspect. But choosing to sleep with her clients for money doesn’t change the fact she was done a terrible disservice.”
Neuhaus grunted. “That’s an interesting way to put it. Murder as a disservice.”