Code 61 - Donald Harstad [70]
It was a dance studio with a polished wooden floor, and a multiple-mirrored interior wall. A wooden rail in front of the mirrors, attached with large brass fittings, and large stereo outfit at the near end, with some folding chairs, a bench, and a clock on the wall at the far end. Suspended fluorescent lights in standard gray shades. Austere. I took it in in about two seconds. Nobody there, nor could there be without being seen immediately.
“She takes her dancing seriously,” said Hester.
The security sweep completed, we holstered our weapons and got to work looking for evidence.
“She's got to pay for those cars somehow,” I said.
Hester shook her head. “Not by dancing.”
We took our time, and did a very thorough search, beginning with photographing both rooms. Then the place was divided up among us, working in teams of two. Grothler and I got the “living area,” which was fine with us. It was all so neat and organized, and so modern in contrast to the rest of the house, there wasn't much of a place to conceal anything. Nooks and crannies were at a premium, thank God. That's why, I guess, I found myself photographing the bookshelf, and then looking behind the books. Well, you could hide things back there.
There were some interesting books, so interesting that I got my zoom lens out of my camera bag, and used it to photograph readable sections of the shelves.
Gray's Anatomy, Chaos by Gleick, and Hawking's A Brief History of Time were books I had at home, and lent a familiar aspect to the shelf. Then, though, there were several volumes that I'd never heard of. First, Treatise on Vampires and Revenants: The Phantom World, apparently translated by one Harry Christmas. I sure didn't have that one at home. Neither did I have Death, Burial, and the Individual in Early Modern England by Clare Gittings, although I have to admit it did look interesting. The Vampire: His Kith and Kin by Montague Summers, struck me as sounding like good reading for a stormy night. Reflections on Dracula and Shade and Shadow by Dr. Elizabeth Miller looked to be the sort of thing I'd pick up for myself. I was beginning to think I'd found the source for Toby's vampire tale.
There was a very nice photo volume entitled High-gate Cemetery, Victorian Valhalla, photographed by John Gay and introduced by Felix Barker. I opened it up, and thumbed through the black and white photos of the famous cemetery in London. As I did, a slip of notepaper fell out. On it was written “Beware David R. Farrant, British Occult Society,” with “Egyptian Avenue & the Circle of Lebanon,” written at a slant, and the whole thing had a smiley face under it with the word “Isadora.” On the open page was a smaller version of the huge photo on the wall. I checked in the list of photos in the back of the book, and discovered that the Circle of Lebanon was a wheel of crypts in Highgate Cemetery in London. Strange. I copied the note onto my log sheet, along with the name of the book, and Isadora. Just for future reference.
Beside the cemetery book was one entitled The London Nobody Knows by Geoffrey Fletcher. Next to it was London Under London, A Subterranean Guide by Trench and Hillman. Two books I thought I'd like to read.
The Oxford Dictionary of the English Language dominated a shelf all by itself. I'd heard of it, but never actually seen one. It was the really cool edition, the one that came with the magnifying glass. I thought it looked out of place in such a modern room, and should have been in the library downstairs, with the mahogany table and the five-foot wainscoting.
The last shelf contained a series of almanacs, woodworking guides, a carpenter's handbook, and The Joy of Sex. I smiled to myself, because their shelf order made me think of splinters in