The carriage driver banged his hand on the roof of the carriage, to announce that they had arrived at the headquarters, and Reginald reached over and undid the handle so the door would swing open. “After you, Miss Westlake.” Reginald said, refusing to be the first out. “Ladies first..” His tone was mocking, since he felt she wasn’t exactly deserving of the title of Lady. Snatching up her purse, she made a low “hmph” sound, trying to gather her skirts and get out of the carriage, only to find her dress getting caught on the door. Now she was in need of help, as she tugged and pulled, trying not to rip her dress. The feminine grunts were now amusing to the Detective, and he said with a grin; “Hold still, or your going to have a gaping hole where your buttocks are.” Vivian finally gave up the fight and stood still, as Reginald helped detatch her skirt from the door opening. “There, now you can walk on.” She gave her skirt a hard pull and then righted herself, as other city folk milled about her, trying to get past. Reginald got out of the carriage and paid the driver, before escorting the cranky reporter inside.
Detective Blaine’s cubicle – The Yard
Both now seated in the sanctuary of the Detective’s small alcove, Reginald took out the notebook, and set it on the table, along side a large pad and then he took the cover off his typewriter, and dusted the keys. He really hated these contraptions, but it did make reporting so much easier, and the ink was not as messy as using a quill. Vivian sat directly opposite him, with her bag in her lap and a sour look on her face. Half afraid of being recognized by the Chief Superintendent, she pulled her hat down slightly, so as to shield her face, and she kept her voice low, again not to bring attention to herself.
Thankfully, the Detective was familiar with her version of shorthand script and was able to type out a copy of the notebook, tapping away at the keys of his type writer like a fiend, and keeping from making loud conversation, also worried about being caught. The part that did worry him though, was the fact the church had failed to make a report about the incident. What of the body? This was a very worrying aspect. Had there even been a funeral?
The detective stopped typing, as he got to the artistic sketching of the suspect, and he gazed at it intently. The way he was dressed, his hair, the eyes. It had the Detective bite his lip, and then he leaned forward to Vivian and whispered.
“How do we catch a vampire? Or better yet, how do we stop one from attacking?”
Vivian had not thought about actually trying to apprehend a vampire, she thought that was the policeman’s job.
“I just report it, I never said I was a vampire hunter.”
The Detective hummed under his breath, picking up the notepad and staring at the image again.
“I think its time we learnt how. You and I, Miss Vivian, are going to be London’s first Vampire hunters. And we start by getting information on them from the State Library.”
“Oh..no, I think you have the wrong girl, Detective. I don’t want to have to kill Vampires, I just want to write a good story.”
“What better story is there, then saying you were part of the ending of a Vampire? Think of it that way.”
Vivian sat there for a moment, as the Detective offered her her notebook back. “I’m going to regret this…” She said with a lamented sigh. The Detective on the other hand, was already getting his hat and coat. “Come on, the longer we sit here, the more of a chance your Vampire is out there, planning his next attack.”
Groaning, Vivian rose to her feet, and then followed the now enthused Detective out of the office.