Dani started up the car but didn’t drive off, instead waiting for the heat to kick in, and the mist to clear from the windscreen. Next to her Easton blew into his hands then stared back up to Brigitta Popescu’s home.
‘Is it just me, or was that place seriously—’
‘Weird?’ Dani suggested.
‘I was going to say spooky.’
‘Spooky? I didn’t think you were the type to scare easily.’
‘Neither did I.’ He shivered theatrically. ‘Though did I ever tell you about the time I went to the haunted house at Drayton Manor when I was a kid?’
‘No, but you should.’
He seemed to dwell on that. ‘Nah, no point in opening myself up for abuse.’
He actually looked genuinely contemplative now, only adding both to Dani’s intrigue and her amusement. Easton dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone and Dani realised she wouldn’t be hearing the story today.
She pulled the car onto the road, turned it around and headed back the way they’d come. She was approaching the T-junction at the end of the street when another car turned in and pulled to a stop on the kerb. A battered Vauxhall Insignia, two men sitting in the front, hard glares on their faces. Dani caught the eye of the driver as she passed.
‘What’s that all about?’ she said.
Easton was paying no attention.
Dani glanced in her rear-view mirror as they moved on, and made a mental note of the registration.
‘What’s got you so engrossed?’ she said to Easton after a few seconds of silence.
‘Strigoi,’ he said, eyes glued to his phone screen.
Dani waited for him to expand on his answer. He didn’t.
‘And?’ she said.
‘You heard of them before?’
‘No.’
‘Me neither. But I thought, when Brigitta said it, that it was going to be some sort of gang or something. Like the Mafia.’
Which had been Dani’s first thought too.
‘So what is it?’
She glanced at Easton and caught his eye. He looked genuinely puzzled.
‘Bloody vampires.’
Dani laughed. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. Well, kind of. When I say bloody vampires, I don’t mean literally suck-your-blood bloody.’
‘You’ve lost me.’
His eyes were back on his screen as he scrolled.
‘Strigoi,’ he said. ‘Romanian folklore. They’re believed to be the origin of all modern vampire stories. Werewolves too, in a way. Though they’re not blood-sucking bat-loving immortals or anything like that. They’re basically evil spirits that terrorise the living, that can transform into animals and all sorts.’
Dani wanted to find the revelation ludicrous – because it was – and make light of it, yet as she thought back to that dark house, to Brigitta, the eerie shrine by her side, the cold breeze on her neck, there was no doubt something had left her feeling hugely unsettled.
‘So Brigitta Popescu thinks vampires took her daughter,’ Dani said.
‘Not just her daughter, apparently.’
That was true. Brigitta had intimated there were ‘others’. Other what, though? Other mysterious deaths, like Clara Dunne’s? Or other unexplained missing persons, like Clara’s brother Liam? And like Brigitta’s own daughter.
‘What on earth are we supposed to do with this?’ Easton said, sounding as flummoxed as he looked.
‘An exorcist? Or maybe we just need to stock up on silver bullets.’
‘And stakes. And garlic.’
‘S-t-a-k-e-s or s-t-e-a-k-s?’
‘Too early for s-t-e-a-k.’
Although they were both smiling, the mood soon turned contemplative during the silence that followed. Yes, they were making light of the ramblings of an old woman, but there was little that was funny about what they were stumbling over here, Dani realised.
‘Let’s get back to HQ,’ Dani said. ‘I want you to dig further into Nicolae Popescu. His crimes. What he’s been up to since he was sent back to Romania. Make sure we can pinpoint his whereabouts.’
‘You don’t believe he’s really there?’
‘I really don’t know. But I do think there’s an obvious link between all these people, and what’s happening. Liam, Clara, Nicolae. We’re just not seeing it yet.’
Another silence followed. Dani could feel Easton staring at her. When she next stopped at some red lights she looked over at him. She couldn’t read the look on his face. Suspicion? Disbelief?
‘You think there are more, don’t you?’ he said.
‘More what?’
‘More deaths. More bodies. Dead bodies.’
Dani said nothing. But based on past experience, she certainly wouldn’t rule it out.
‘I’m getting lost in all this,’ Dani said, sticking her head up over the divider to grab Easton’s attention.
‘Which bit?’
‘All of it.’ Dani sat back in her chair, away from her screen, sighed. ‘I just can’t find anything that links the Doyles to the Popescus. I mean, at one point Liam lived within a couple of miles, but so did thousands of other people, but that’s the closest thing I’ve got. There’s no commonality in employment records, no links I can see on social media—’
‘We could always ask him,’ Easton said. He got up from his seat and moved over to Dani.
‘Who? Nicolae?’
‘Yeah. Why not?’
‘Except for the fact he’s in Romania and probably would rather cut his own eyes out than help the UK police.’
‘A bit of a leap.’
‘Maybe, but certainly if there is anything untoward happening here—’
‘Which I think is what you’re trying to tell me, right?’
‘Right. So why would Popescu ever tell us anything if that’s the case. And it’s not like we can haul him in to make him sweat when he’s across the far side of the next continent.’
‘Unless he isn’t even there.’
A sudden flash of hope washed over Dani as she looked up to Easton, but it was dashed even before he spoke when she saw the apologetic look in his eyes.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean I’d found anything to confirm that,’ he said. ‘In fact, I did find a Facebook profile that I’m pretty damn sure is him, and it shows him posting pictures back in Romania as recently as three weeks ago.’
‘Pictures of what?’
‘A walk in a forest.’
‘How do you know it was in Romania then?’
He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. ‘I don’t, but—’
‘For God’s sake. Social media posts are just a tiny aspect of what we need to cover here, Easton,’ Dani said, her agitation rising, even though it wasn’t really directed at him. A voice in her head warned her to soften her tone a little. A self-awareness she’d developed recently to try and keep her TBI-enhanced brusqueness in check. ‘What I mean is, he could be there on holiday. Someone else could be posting on his account. The pictures could be Photoshopped or not even of Romania in the first place.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘We need real evidence before we rule him out.’
‘Rule him out of what?’
A good question. But one Dani didn’t know the answer to. Which was why she ignored it.
‘I’ll speak to McNair,’ she said. ‘We’ll look to get a request put out to the Romanian authorities. We need to know an address, details of employment, taxes, phone records, whatever. Hard proof to show Nicolae Popescu is really in Romania. And if he is, we need to know what links he still has to people in the UK.’
‘Why are you even doubting his whereabouts?’
Again, Dani didn’t answer. ‘There is this, too,’ she said.
She clicked away and pulled up the details she’d found earlier.
‘That car I spotted at the end of Brigitta’s street.’
‘What car?’
Dani rolled her eyes. Of course, he’d been too engrossed in his vampire search to have spotted the car.
‘A Vauxhall Insignia. Two rough-looking guys inside. Except the car is registered to Brigitta Popescu.’
‘She doesn’t strike me as much of a driver.’
‘Certainly doesn’t. She’s also the main driver listed on the car’s insurance.’
Easton huffed. ‘So who was the chap driving, then?’
‘Which is the question we’re going to need to get to the bottom of.’
‘Am I sensing another trip to Tipton?’
Dani sighed and looked at her watch. ‘I’d rather avoid it, if we can.’
‘But at the very least we’ve got some guy driving Brigitta’s car, uninsured.’
‘Looks like it.’
‘If you’re looking for someone to sweat out…’
‘Agreed. Make a call to the local station. Let them know the deal. If they can get a PC in a car to sit on that street and wait then great, but at least make them aware we need to find that vehicle, pronto. When they find it, tell them to arrest the driver if it’s anyone other than Brigitta Popescu.’
‘On what grounds?’
‘You said it yourself. Driving while uninsured.’
‘But you think there’s more going on than that?’
‘I’m absolutely certain of it.’
She just didn’t have a clue what.
Dani was tired and seriously frustrated by the time she made it home. Having first stopped at the hospital to see Jason, it was nearly ten p.m., and the house was unexpectedly frigid. It turned out the heating hadn’t come on at all during the evening, the pilot light of the ageing boiler having blown out because of the draught coming through the back door. A problem they’d never had at their house in Harborne, where they’d spent thousands on modernising even in the few short months they’d lived there together. This house needed its own dose of TLC, though Dani struggled to bring herself to even think about that while Jason was still in hospital.
After an hour with both the heating on full blast as well as the inadequate gas fire in the lounge, Dani was still ice cold as she sat on the sofa with the laptop, scrolling away.
She’d intended to just quickly catch up on life – social media, the news, emails – before going to bed, but had inadvertently got spectacularly sidetracked. That had started from a simple google of the word ‘Strigoi’. Which had turned into a deep dive research of Romanian folklore, evil spirits, vampires and werewolves. Not to mention the history of Vlad the Impaler, the brutal fifteenth century Wallachian ruler, best known for his horrific methods of torture, but also the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s infamous character who revolutionised vampire folklore: Count Dracula.
All of which only added to Dani’s chill, and the feeling of creepy isolation as she sat alone.
Dani cupped her hand to her mouth as the gory accounts of Vlad’s brutality transformed into grotesque images in her mind.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when there was an unexpected bang from somewhere outside the room.
Heart thudding, Dani stared across to the partially open doorway. No other sounds came, but she was soon silently slipping the computer from her lap, onto the seat next to her. Just as quietly she pushed herself onto her feet, just as another thudding sound came, this time causing Dani to flinch anxiously.
Earlier she’d joked with Easton about being easily spooked. And Dani really didn’t think that she was normally like that, but there was no doubt she was feeling rattled now. In fact, she’d been on edge all day, ever since that meeting with Brigitta Popescu.
Dani tiptoed to the doorway. The house beyond was all quiet now. Painful memories burned in her mind of the previous occasions she’d been attacked in her own home. Surely it couldn’t all be happening again?
As Dani reached the door, she could see the light was on in the hallway. Just as she’d left it. With a rush of adrenaline she jumped out. Spun this way and that.
No one there.
Another thud, and she spun back to face the wall. Rolled her eyes at her own silliness. This time she could place the noise exactly. Though it did help that the bang was followed by muffled arguing. The next-door neighbours. Oh, the joy of a semi-detached house. Dani hadn’t lived here long but she’d already figured that the neighbours had an unruly teenage daughter who created havoc for her worn-down parents. The slanging match now taking place next door was a more or less daily occurrence.
There was an even bigger bang and the letterbox on Dani’s front door rattled from the force of the vibration. The clip-clop she heard outside confirmed that the daughter was now storming away down the drive. Probably to her boyfriend’s car, as was the norm.
At least now the shouting and clattering from the house had stopped.
Though Dani soon realised she took little comfort from the new-found quiet. Out in the hallway the temperature remained uncomfortably low. A gust of wind blasted the house causing a creak and strain somewhere at the back.
No, Dani had had enough of this. She couldn’t stay here alone tonight. Not with the horror stories that were now on constant replay in her mind.
Five minutes later, with a hastily packed overnight bag, she was on her way back to the hospital.