Deadspawn

1 CHARNEL KNOWLEDGE "Harry." Darcy Clarke's voice was twitchy on the phone, but he was trying hard to contain it. "There's a problem we could use some help with. Your kind of help." Harry Keogh, Necroscope, might or might not know what was bothering the head of British E-Branch, and it might or might not have to do with him directly. "What is it, Darcy?" he said, speaking softly. "It's murder," the other answered, and now his twitchiness came on strong, shaking his voice. "It's bloody awful murder, Harry! My God, I never saw anything like it!" Darcy Clarke had seen a lot in his time and Harry Keogh knew it, so that this was a statement he found hard to believe. Unless of course Clarke was talking about..."Mykind of help, you said?" Harry's attention was suddenly riveted to the phone. "Darcy, are you trying to tell methat?" "What?" The other didn't understand him at first, but then he did. "No, noChristnoit's not the work of a vampire, Harry! But some kind of monster, certainly. Oh, human enoughbut a monster, too." Harry relaxed a little, but a very little. He'd been expecting a call from E-Branch sooner or later. This could be it: some sort of clever trap. Except...Darcy had always been his friend; Harry didn't think he would act on somethingnot even something like thatwithout checking it out every which way first. And even then Harry couldn't see Darcy coming after him with a crossbow and hardwood bolt, a machete, a can of petrol. No, he'd have to talk to him first, get Harry's side of it. But in the end... ...The head of the Branch knew almost as much about vampires now as Harry did. And he'd know, too, that there was no hope. They'd been friends, fighting on the same side, so Harry guessed it wouldn't be Darcy's finger on the trigger. But someone's, certainly. "Harry?" Clarke was anxious. "Are you still there?" "Where are you, Darcy?" Harry inquired. "The Military Police duties room, in the castle," the other answered at once. "They found her body under the walls. Just a kid, Harry. Eighteen or nineteen. They don't even know who she is yet. That alone would be a big help. But to know who did it would be the biggest bonus of all." If there was one man Harry Keogh could trust, it had to be Darcy Clarke. "Give me fifteen minutes," he said, "and I'll be there." Clarke sighed. "Thanks, Harry. We'd appreciate it." "We?" Harry snapped. He couldn't keep the suspicion out of his voice. "Eh?" Clarke sounded startled, taken aback. "Why, the police. And me." Murder. The police. Not a Branch job at all. So what was Clarke doing on itifit was real? "How did you get roped in?" And suddenly, the other was...caught on the hop? Cagey, anyway. "I...I was up here on a 'duty run," visiting an old Scottish auntie. Something I do once in a blue moon. She's been on her last legs for ten years now but won't lie down, keeps on tottering around! I was scheduled to go back down to HQ today, but then this came up. It's something the Branch has been trying to help the police with, a set ofGod![read more]