Three o’clock in the morning, and Anita’s rolling into the police station. A sly comment by Zerbrowski about how high the slit is on Anita’s dress reminds me that she’s still wearing the stupid thing.
Coming into the RIP squad room, the place is full of penguins. You see, now everyone knows about Anita’s collection, they’ve been taking the piss out of her ever since. Stuffed toy penguins have been showing up at every single crime scene for the past six months. Funny once or twice. It’s a fucking campaign after this amount of time. As the only woman and the only Hispanic on the team, you’d think Anita would have had words with people before now.
Dolph is in the interview room with the victim, and now Anita is blaming Zerbrowski for calling the woman the ‘supposed victim’. No, you did that yourself lady. The squad then shout sexual comments at Anita.
Zerbrowski was waiting on the stairs for me. “I don’t know whether you’ll flash me more leg if I walk in front of you, looking back, or behind you. I think in front.”
“Push it too far, Zerbrowski, and I’ll tell Katie on you.”
“She knows I’m a lech.”
And yet you continue, showing how much disrespect you have for the woman you say you love.
“How did you ever convince Katie to date you, let alone marry you?”
“I got her drunk,” he said.
I don’t like Zerbrowski.
Anita goes up to Dolph, who is described as looking like a pro-wrestler because that’s very normal, and they all make snide comments about how they want Anita to flash them. Anita is shown into the interview room, where Vicki Pierce has just finished talking to Dolph. Vicki has been crying, and Anita says that she has big blue eyes and has been plying Dolph with wiles. Vicki says that she’s tired and wants to go home. She tries pleading with Anita, saying that it’s hard being around all men after being assaulted.
You’d think RIP would have more female officers for instances like these.
Anita thinks it’s all an act (and seeing as Anita is suspicious of her, I’m guessing Vicki will turn out to be evil) so decides to stand right next to her, deliberately invading Vicki’s personal space. Vicki asks if she’s a lawyer, so Anita tries to steamroll her so the interview isn’t stopped. Vicki starts to tell her story, which is that she had car trouble and went into the bar to phone a car, but Anita immediately pooh-poohs it by saying that Vicki is giving too much information and is justifying herself.
Like, I don’t know, a woman trying to make a group of unsympathetic detectives believe that she was attacked without her consent?
Anita thinks how it’s all so rehearsed and that Vicki is an icky chain-smoker, as if chain smoking is a sign of pure evil. To me, it’s what people do when they’re in a stressful situation. Vicki continues her story regardless, saying she was bitten and didn’t realise the vamp was a vamp until that moment. She responded by throwing her drink in his face and lighting his face on fire. She’d heard vamps were afraid of fire, and that he’d leave her alone.
Anita asks why didn’t Vicki suspect that the vampire might be made angry. Because when you’ve been attacked in a public place and defend yourself, your mind immediately thinks ‘oh, how will this impact my attacker??’
Anita and Dolph then purposefully confuse Vicki over whether or not she knew that vampires were combustible, and pull apart her story. They say Vicki should have known Burnt Offerings was a vampire hangout (‘you should have known men would be in that bar’) because a family friendly restaurant is clearly the first place for a vampire to go.
“It’s not in the vampire district,” she said. “How was I to know that it was a vampire bar?”
“How about the picture of Christopher Lee as Dracula on the sign outside?” I said.
Guess that makes my local movie memorabilia shop a vampire hang out. Or the Count Dracula Club restaurant in Budapest.
And again – this place is a family friendly restaurant. Hardly a hip and happening nightspot. It’s not the place I’d want to go if I were a vamp on the pull.
Vikci bursts into tears and wants to know why they’re treating her like a criminal. She pulls away the bandage to show off the bite. It’s just two small holes, nothing else.
Apparently this means that Vicki is lying and was bitten before she came in, because it should have bruising around it if the vampire sucks but doesn’t feed. Vicki’s story made it sound like the vamp just sunk fangs in before she shoved him off, but who am I to argue with the vampire expert? Dolph and Anita quickly decide Vicki must be some kind of extremist with an agenda against vampires. She’s even a trained actress, so she must have been lying!
“Why did you need me? You had it all solved.”
“The bite, the fact that vampires burn that easily…” He shook his head. “None of this shit is in the literature.”
“The books aren’t designed for police work, Dolph.”
Of course! Why would you want your police force to do their jobs? Why would you want them to investigate and prevent crime? Just have them waste thousands of dollars on being fucking creepy to the only woman in the team! ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Anita sighs about how much damage this will all do to the vampire community, and Dolph and her discuss the issue of the segregation of vampire communities and businesses. Dolph is all for it. Yeah, separate but equal. The government can just pull out all the signs they have from the last time they did it! They just have to repaint them. It’s like recycling.
Dolph finally notices that Anita has a serious hand injury and is furious she’s invovled with something else. He threatens to throw her in jail, before he remembers that shit like that is massively illegal. He then teases about how she’s killed so many people but the police have only been able to prove two of them.
Anita smiles and says she’ll get her federal badge and then she’ll be above the laugh.
HA HA HA
Anita leaves for home, as she’s tired and we’re finally reaching a midpoint, and thinks about how sad she is that Dolph is so grumpy with her. Oh, he just hates vampires so much! And that’s meant to be endearing! And if he gets any more suspicious, he’ll find all those illegal murders she did and she’ll get put in prison!
Oh how charming *vomits profusely*
I’d used my animating powers to kill humans. If it could be proved, it was an automatic death sentence. A death sentence for someone who had used magic to kill was not the same sort of sentence as, say, an axe murderer got. A guy could chop up his family and spend the next fifteen years on death row with appeals. There are no appeals for magic-induced murder. Trial, conviction, death within six weeks, usually less.
Bullshit. Sorry, but all criminals have a right to appeal. It’s sort of illegal to take that away. And automatic death sentence? I don’t think the law works that way. It takes a lot of judiciary process to try someone under the death sentence. There’s a lot of hoops to jump through, and I don’t think you can mark someone up for the death sentence with just one fucking stamp, and no thinking.
The last witch burnt alive by a mob in this country was only in 1953.
Look, mobs do horrendous things (still do), but I don’t think mass mobs would burn people alive in the fifties. They didn’t even do it during the height of the witch craze in the seventeenth century.
Her name was Agnes Simpson.
Like I believe a mob in the fifties was hunting down white women.
I’d seen the black-and-white photos of her death. Anyone who studied preternatural anything had to have her picture in at least one textbook. The photo that stayed with me was one in which her face was untouched, pale, even from a distance terror plain in her face. Her long brown hair moving in the heat but not yet burning. Only her nightgown and robe had caught fire. Her head thrown back, screaming. The photo won the Pulitzer Prize. The rest of the photos aren’t seen as often. A progression of photographs that ends with her burned and blackened and dead.
Anita then goes on a pretentious ramble about how maybe the Pulitzer Prize is a charm against nightmares, but what annoys me is that she just says this. She has no emotional connection to it. She doesn’t even pass judgement on it, only the photographer. She doesn’t think anything. It is just something she knows. This frustrates me about LKH’s writing style. She doesn’t make connections. Things happen. They just exist. They make no impact.