The Vampire Brief

James L. Cambias

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There was a house in the Garden District of New Orleans. A vampire was

inside. I was outside. And standing at the top of the front steps was a

little guy wearing thick glasses, holding up a sheet of paper the way

I've seen other people hold up a crucifix.

"This is a restraining order," he said. "It specifically forbids Mr.

Hellboy or any other employees of the Bureau for Paranormal Research

and Defense from approaching within five hundred feet of Mr. Antoine

Castelaine or his residence."

"Castelaine's a vampire," I said. "I'm gonna put him down."

"Officers?" said the little guy, and behind him I could see four New

Orleans cops come out of the front door. They looked kind of

embarrassed, but each one had a hand resting casually on the flap of

his pistol holster.

People tell me I have problems with authority figures. I put one foot

on the bottom step. The little lawyer went pale. The cops unsnapped

their holsters. I started to figure how I could get past them without

doing any permanent damage.

"Hellboy!" A hand clapped me on the back. "Nice to see you back in

town! Why didn't you call me first?"

I looked down. "Hi, Eddie." Eddie Canizaro's been on the New Orleans

police force since he got back from a tour in Vietnam. These days he

looks more like Santa Claus than an ex-Marine.

He waved at the cops on the porch. "I'll take it from here, guys." "So

are you going to tell me I can't put this stake where it'll do some

good?" "Let's go get a drink, Hellboy. There's some things you need to

know." Ten minutes later we were sitting in a bar called the Riverfront

Tavern, just under the span of the Mississippi River Bridge. The last

time I'd been in there it had been a real dive — the kind of place

where a couple of customers come down with "hollow-point lead

poisoning" every Saturday night in the parking lot. Now it was cleaner,

better lit, and filled with nice-looking young couples drinking

microbrews. Canizaro looked like he missed the old days, too,

especially after he got a look at the beer prices.

"Okay, Eddie. Tell me why you and those other cops are protecting a

vampire." He looked miserable. "Things have changed, Hellboy. People

think vampires are cool. Sexy. This guy Castelaine even puts ads in the

newspaper." He reached over to the next booth and grabbed a discarded

Times-Picayune. "See for yourself." The ad was a quarter-page, white

gothic letters on a black background.

Are YOU a VAMPIRE LOVER?

Meet a REAL VAMPIRE!

Antoine Castelaine

will share the secrets of BLOOD AND IMMORTALITY!

By Appointment Only

Major Credit Cards Accepted

No Personal Checks

"You're kidding," I said.

"Nope. He even does birthday parties, as long as they're at night.

Welcome to the nineties."

"How can he get away with this?"

"No law against being a vampire. Not even against drinking blood, as

long as the donor is willing. This guy Castelaine has half a dozen

groupies who think it's the coolest thing in the world to let him drain

off a couple of pints."

"He doesn't kill anyone?"

"Every now and then a body turns up in the river drained of blood. But

we can't tie any of them to Castelaine. How do you tail someone who can

turn into a bat?"

"So you're telling me you know this guy's a vampire, but I'll go to

jail if I try to go in and stake him?"

"That's about it."

"This sucks, Eddie."

"That it does, my friend. That it does."

[IMAGE]

Julianna Butler's shop is in one of the parts of New Orleans the

tourists never see, but I pay her a visit every time I'm in town. The

shop is a little shotgun-style house with a faded sign on the door that

reads "Mother Julianna — Fortune Telling & Voodoo Charms."

The front room is for the rubes. She's got shrunken heads (made in

Taiwan), voodoo dolls (hecho en Mexico), and dried herbs which I know

she just buys at the supermarket and puts in little cloth bags at ten

dollars an ounce.

The back room is where I like to hang out. She's got old occult books

there from collections in Latin America and the Caribbean, genuine

Mayan artifacts, and handmade gris-gris charms which aren't in any book

I've ever read but which keep evil spirits at bay.

Mother Julianna wasn't young the first time I met her, but I was still

surprised to see how tiny and white-haired she was getting. Her eyes

were still sharp, though.

"It is good to see you again, Hellboy. Are you married yet?"

"I'd love to be but you keep telling me no."

She smiled a little at that, showing a mouthful of gold teeth. "I heard

you have come to do something about that Castelaine man. He's a

vampire, you know."

"Is he a real one?"

"Oh, yes," she said, nodding. "From the dark places in Europe. The

French name is surely false."

"Can you help me? He's got a restraining order against me and the city

cops are guarding his house."

"What can I do? I can give you a charm to find a vampire. I can tell

you how to keep one out of your bedroom as you sleep. I can tell you

how to kill one, but you know that already. I cannot reach into his

home and strike him down. This is a cunning one."

"There's got to be some way to get him."

"I cannot help you, Hellboy. But there is someone who can. Someone with

knowledge I do not possess."

"Who?"

"You must go to Little Augie."

"Who the hell is Little Augie?"

"My grandson. He's a lawyer."

[IMAGE]

I'd seen the billboards and the ads on late-night TV. "When the big

guys try to push you around, call Little Augie. I'm Little Augie

Butler, and I'm on your side!"

His office was on Tulane Avenue, conveniently near the courthouse and

the parish prison. Augie was evidently doing well — the carpet was deep

enough to lose a shoe in and the furniture was all massive mahogany and

polished brass.

Augie matched the office, in a silk suit and gold cufflinks. His tie

alone probably cost a couple of thousand. "How are you doing, Mr.

Hellboy? Let me tell you, it's an honor to have you as a client, and I

mean that. Come on in here and sit down. Have a drink. Miss Bordelon,

if the District Attorney calls, tell him I'll get back to him."

He ushered me into a private office and half-pushed me into a big

leather chair, then handed me a glass of what smelled like really good

bourbon.

"So what can I do for you today? Criminal defense work? Litigation? You

been in an accident?"

"I'm here to take down a vampire. Your grandmother sent me."

Little Augie sighed. "I wish she wouldn't do that. I mean, I love her

and all, but it's kind of embarrassing. I'm a lawyer, not a ghost

chaser."

"Actually, I do need some legal advice. This vampire has a restraining

order out against me so I can't get near him."

"Let me say first of all that as your attorney I must urge you to avoid

any kind of violent confrontation. But hypothetically — what do you

need to do to kill this guy?"

"Stake through the heart. Nail through the temples. Cut off his head."

"We've got laws against that kind of stuff around here, you know.

Anything that won't get you a Murder One rap?"

"Sunlight. Most vampires can't stand direct sunlight."

Little Augie gave a big grin, just like on his commercials. "Then I

think I can help you. We file a lawsuit and send him a summons to

appear in court. Civil court only sits during the day."

"That's perfect — but can you do it?"

"Sure I can. What do you want to sue him for? Gotta be something you

have legitimate standing to bring against him. He do anything to you?"

"I've never met the guy."

Little Augie sipped his own drink, then grinned again. "You read the

papers?"

"Yeah, sometimes."

"Good. Then we'll do a class-action for deceptive advertising."

"How are those ads deceptive?"

He shrugged. "Who cares if they are? We don't have to win the suit,

right? Just get him out in daytime."

[IMAGE]

The next couple of weeks were taken up with legal skirmishing between

Little Augie and Castelaine's attorneys. I took off a few days to

investigate a report of zombie pirates near Jamaica and then looked

into a sighting of La Llorona near Vera Cruz. Little Augie got in touch

with me while I was having some nasty cuts stitched up in a Mexican

hospital.

"We've got our court date. This Friday. Do you want to be there?"

"Absolutely."

Two days later I was standing with Little Augie on the steps of the New

Orleans courthouse in a pouring rain. The clouds overhead were thick

and black. Even though it was eleven o'clock in the morning the day was

so dark the streetlights were still on. Augie was keeping his suit and

his hairdo dry under a golf umbrella, but I was getting soaked.

A limo pulled up in the no-parking zone and half a dozen people got

out. I recognized the little lawyer and some security guards. One of

the guards was trying to hold an umbrella over a tall,

aristocratic-looking guy in a black overcoat, but the boss waved him

away.

"The rain feels good, doesn't it, Hellboy?" he called out as he climbed

the steps with his lawyers trailing after him. "Almost as warm as

blood."

I looked up at the sky, hoping for a break in the clouds. Just one

sunbeam would be enough. Castelaine looked up and smiled, letting the

rain pour on to his pale face. "I had to flee Scotland a couple of

centuries back because they accused me of invoking the Devil to summon

tempests. That wasn't quite how I did it, but it's close enough. A

useful art for a vampire to know, don't you think?" He laughed and

looked me in the eye. "Now, do you actually intend to go through with

this farce today? I've got a delectable young girl waiting at home to

be initiated into the mysteries of the blood."

There was a wooden stake in my overcoat pocket. It would be simple: two

steps forward, grab him by the shoulder and jab. Maybe 1 made an

unconscious movement forward, because Castelaine took a quick step

backwards and a couple of his bodyguards fell into place between us.

I watched them go into the courthouse and plodded after. My old coat

was heavy with water.

Augie leaned close as we passed through the metal detectors. "Now what

do we do?"

"What do you mean?"

"I figured the guy would shrivel up or something, so I didn't bother to

prepare an argument."

"Can't you make something up? Stall him? Maybe the weather will get

better."

"I'll try."

There was no jury at this trial. Castelaine's lawyers had insisted and

Little Augie hadn't bothered to fight it. But now I could see he was

regretting that. A jury would have let him run out the clock with a

long speech. The judge was a big cynical-looking woman who didn't look

like she would put up with anything like that.

"Your Honor," Augie began, looking uncomfortable. "My client is seeking

damages from Mr. Castelaine on the basis of false advertising, on

behalf of everyone who has been exposed to Mr. Castelaine's print and

radio ads."

"Counselor, I'm afraid you're going to have to explain just how Mr.

Castelaine's advertisements are false or misleading," said the judge.

Augie looked down at me. I was having the beginnings of an idea. "Tell

them he's not really a vampire," I whispered.

"Your Honor, Mr. Castelaine claims to be a vampire, but we maintain

that statement is untrue and misleading."

Castelaine looked amused at that. The judge raised an eyebrow.

Castelaine's lawyers went into a huddle. After a few minutes the little

guy with the glasses raised his head from the group. "Your Honor, the

plaintiff hasn't presented any evidence to disprove my client's claim.

The burden of proof is on them to show that Mr. Castelaine is not a

vampire."

Augie just grinned at that. "Your Honor, I happen to have here Mr.

Hellboy, a world-famous occult investigator from the Bureau for

Paranormal Research and Defense. He's an authority on vampires."

So Augie got me on the stand and asked me if Castelaine really was a

vampire. Since I was under oath, I didn't want to lie about it

directly. "He doesn't show any of the traditional powers and weaknesses

of the vampire," I said.

"What would those be?"

"They're repelled by holy symbols, but that's pretty easy to fake.

They're destroyed by sunlight — "

"Objection," said the little guy with glasses. "My client has the right

to refuse any test which might cause him physical harm."

"You have a point there, Counselor," said the judge.

Augie looked at me. "Anything else?"

"Well, many legends say vampires have the power to turn into animals —

you know, rats, bats, that kind of thing. If Castelaine turns into a

rat it would reveal his true nature."

His lawyers started to huddle, but Castelaine silenced them and stood

up. "Very well," he said. "Observe my power."

It wasn't any kind of gradual change. One moment he was there in his

black overcoat, the next moment there was a black bat fluttering in his

place.

I leaped out of the witness stand, reaching for the bat. It circled

higher, and I jumped onto the judge's desk. The room was full of

shouting voices. I could hear the judge yelling at me, and the little

lawyer with glasses crying, "Master!"

Castelaine tried to taunt me, dive-bombing my face and then flitting

away, but I gave a jump that carried me halfway across the room and

caught him in my big stone hand. I made a tight fist and heard little

bat bones snapping.

I crash-landed among the empty seats behind Augie. The bailiff and

Castelaine's guards were rushing toward me. Before any of them could

get through the splintered wood and scattered cushions I pulled a

pencil out of my pocket and jammed it into the heart of the crumpled

little black creature in my hand. The body burst into flames.

"Mister Hellboy!" the judge was yelling. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Just killing a bat, Your Honor," I said. "No law against killing bats,

is there?" The room got quiet. Castelaine's lawyers were all looking at

each other, except for the guy with glasses. He was trying to scrape up

the bits of ash and fur scattered on the floor.

"Case dismissed!" said the judge, and banged her gavel.

[IMAGE]

Mother Julianna and I buried what was left of Castelaine where the

Interstate-10 overpass crosses Canal Street; that was the biggest

crossroads we could find. Canizaro told me no more bloodless bodies

were found after Castelaine disappeared. For my courtroom brawl I got

sentenced to a week of community service, instructing the NOPD in how

to deal with supernatural threats.

And if you're ever watching late-night TV in New Orleans, watch for me

during the commercials. I'm the big red guy who says, "Thanks, Little

Augie!"