Chapter 5: The Doctor
Doctor Reginald P. Shoreditch was five minutes early for his appointment, but was made to sit on a chair outside the office, where Helen chatted pleasantly with him about the weather. After four minutes of being subjected to the secretary’s inane conversation, Maria finally took pity on the man and told Keith to let him in.
What struck the pair in the office about Doctor Shoreditch was how unassuming he seemed. His hair was a graying blonde and oily, he was wearing a grey three-piece suit and white shirt, and he carried a briefcase. He certainly didn’t have the stereotypical appearance of a necromancer, professor or no professor. He couldn’t have been much older than forty-five and his cheeks were pink and full rather than pale and sunken; his eyes were bright, he was a little chubby around the sides, and he smiled in a friendly manner as he walked into the office and looked left and right at the two desks on either side of him.
“Good evening!” he said. He spoke with a gentle British accent, and his voice was warm and mirthful, as if he were always on the brink of telling a rather saucy joke. “I say, your company does have a rather amusing abbreviation doesn’t it? ‘S and M’ investigations?” he chortled.
Maria snorted. “Only to some.”
Keith glared at her, then stood up and shook Doctor Shoreditch warmly by the hand. “Welcome to Scott and Malone Investigations Doctor Shoreditch. I am Keith Scott and this is my partner, Maria Malone.”
Doctor Shoreditch turned and nodded at Maria, who raised her eyebrows and continued to read the magazine she had hidden among the files she was supposed to be alphabetizing. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.” The Doctor said, sitting down on one of the rickety old chairs in front of Keith’s desk. “I only hope you will be able to help me in my situation.”
“Well,” Keith shrugged and took an official-looking notepad out of a drawer. “Describe your predicament and well see what services we can offer you.”
The Doctor folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward. “Well, as you know,” he began. “I work in the NecromancyCollege at BayMagicUniversity. Excellent college you know, I recommend it highly. But, um, I’m assuming you are both far and above the years of University, yes?”
Keith nodded and looked pointedly at the wall above the door, upon which hung several diplomas; two closer to Keith’s desk, which detailed his graduation from Cade’s College with a Bachelor’s in Parapsychology and his Masters in Paranormal Forensics, and a single diploma on Maria’s side of the wall, which was from Chicago Nocturnal College and detailed her bachelor’s degree in Paranormal Combat and Talent.
Doctor Shoreditch studied the diplomas eagerly, and then turned back to the investigator in front of him. “Impressive credentials, both of you.” He nodded delightedly. “Well, as you know the art of necromancy involves the act of raising the dead from beyond the grave. It’s become a very popular major; the new corner market for one who studies necromancy is in running businesses and donation drives you know.”
Keith resisted his urge to make a snide comment. He had been stopped at countless city events by smiling young men holding clipboards asking if he had considered life after death and how if he would just sign this form, he would be a registered employee of ‘insert-name-of-necromancy-company-here’ upon his death, when he would be resurrected and put to work involving some sort of menial labor or retail sales. They never pushed too hard, Keith was grateful for that, but he really had no thoughts at all of wanting to acquire a ‘body donor card’ as they were frequently called. Maria was never harassed by recruiters, as she had been registered as a legal undead since birth and recruiters therefore actively avoided her.
Doctor Shoreditch was still talking. “Well, the university has a specific morgue where people who wish to donate their dead bodies to education are used for the students to perform their own personal necromancy projects; practicing zombification and whatnot. However,” his face became severe and stern. “Many students have difficulty affording the fees that are necessary in order to perform such projects, giving them an unfair disadvantage in their classes.”
Keith raised an eyebrow. “They can’t afford to buy a cadaver from the University?” he asked.
“Student fees get worse and worse every year Mister Scott.” Doctor Shoreditch commented, shaking his head. “Bay U charges a student two hundred dollars in lab fees when they take an advanced necromancy class.”
Keith raised both eyebrows. “That’s a little pricy, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Well, the cost is necessary as resources are always in short supply.” The Doctor shrugged. “But to a student, certainly, that’s a high expense. So, I’ve been hearing rumors lately of students in my classes who are unable to pay the fees that go out to-” he coughed awkwardly and lowered his voice: “local graveyards and dig up bodies to practice on – without the permission of the deceased.”
“Right.” Keith made a note. “And you want these students brought to justice?”
“In a manner of speaking.” The Doctor shrugged. “I’d handle it myself, but the only way I could really do that is to raise those corpses and have them chase those little reprobates from here to Portland – but the last thing I need is a run-in with the Dusk Patrol.”
Keith nodded. Unauthorized raising of the dead was considered a felony in the state of Oregon, and forty of the other fifty states for that matter, the argument being that no one had the right to say they wished to be zombified except the original owner of the body, and dishonoring that was considered extremely illegal and immoral by society’s standards. “So, what do you want us to do?” he asked.
“Nothing too complicated.” The Doctor said. “Just track these students down, take a few pictures, get them to me, and then I will be able to report them to the University and possibly even the Dusk Patrol themselves. Most of them are foolish freshmen, but a few of them really should know better.”
Keith nodded again and made a few more notes. “Very well Doctor Shoreditch, if you would like our help on this case; count us in.”
“Excellent.” The Doctor beamed.
“Just a few formalities are in order.” Keith took out a form from another drawer of his desk. “I need you to fill this out and Maria and I both need to see all you identification cards, permits, et cetera… to make sure you are who you are and so on.”
Maria walked over to stand behind Keith as the Doctor began digging into his wallet for his I.D. cards. Maria was surprised to see he only took out two cards; his Oregon driver’s license and his Necromancy Permit.
“You’re human?” she said, raising her eyebrows as she looked down at the two little cards.
“Pure bred my dear.” He said, smiling at her. “Learned all the magic myself from scratch, no previous experience in my family, just an undying fascination for the arcane arts.”
Maria’s eyebrows rose a little higher. Most humans who went into magic were from old families or had some sort of non-human bloodline. The Doctor was a definite anomaly, in this town and in this country as far as she could tell.
“If you don’t mind me requesting that the two of you return the favor?” the Doctor asked as he filled out the forms. “I’d like to know what services I am getting in employing the two of you.”
Keith and Maria both repressed a sigh, but dug into their pockets for their cards. This took considerable time; Keith eventually took three cards out of his wallet, and Maria took out six.
“My goodness.” The Doctor looked down at Keith’s cards with interest. “An extra-dimensional bloodline, telekinesis, telepathic ability…” he trailed off and held up the little rectangle of plastic, bearing Keith’s photograph and the words ‘Nocturnal Talent Permit’. “And I had you pegged as human young man!”
Keith colored slightly. “It’s a common misconception.” He shrugged.
The Doctor glanced over the driver’s license and the Detective License, and his eyes widened as he looked down at the six rectangles of card Maria had laid out before him. “My, my…” he said, his eyes lighting up. “A Driver’s AND a flight license,” he murmured. “Exotic weapon permit, Talent Permit…” he examined the Talent permit, which was nearly identical the Keith’s save the length of the list. “Telepathy, overland flight, hyper-senses, hyper-dexterity, night vision, hyper-strength; that’s certainly a wide variety of talents my dear.”
Maria nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable, an expression that turned sour as he picked up the final card and his eyes widened.
“You’re a purebred vampire Ms. Malone?” The man looked nothing short of astonished. “That is fascinating!”
Maria forced herself not to roll her eyes. Just her luck, another human fanboy type. “Yes Doctor.” She said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. “I was born vampire.”
“That is fascinating.” He said, looking up at her, taking in the pale complexion, the dark hair and the two slightly elongated canines that protruded over her bottom lip. “My goodness…” he shook his head. “Well, I certainly think that qualifies both of you above and beyond my expectations.”
“Beautiful.” Maria scowled. “Now, we discuss payment.”
Keith glared back at his partner, but pulled out yet another form and began making calculations. “Okay… it’s a fairly simple reconnaissance mission… travel expenses…. camera fees… overtime charge….” He began muttering to himself, making calculations and scribbling notes in the margins of the form. After a minute, he wrote a number in the bottom corner and passed it to the Doctor, who raised an eyebrow. “Nine hundred dollars?” he asked.
“Five hundred is flat rate.” Keith explained. “And it increases according to the risk of the investigation and the resources needed. Your case is rather low risk, but potentially high resource, thus the extra few hundred there. High risk cases tend to be several thousand dollars, depending on the client and the nature of the work.”
The Doctor looked as if he were going to comment, but instead pulled out his wallet and shuffled through it. “How much do I pay up front?” he asked.
Keith gestured towards the door, which swung open. “You’ll have to take that up with Helen at the front desk.” He said. “She’ll take care of your financial necessities.”
“Thank you very much for your time.” The Doctor said, turning to go. “Oh, and Ms. Malone?” he said as an afterthought.
“Yes?” she asked, on her way back to her desk.
“I teach a night lecture on Nocturnal Undead, and have been looking for a speaker for quite some time.” He said. “My students and I would love the opportunity to have a question and answer session with a purebred vampire such as yourself.”
Maria’s lips tightened, but she took her wallet out of her pocket and handed the Doctor a small card. “Call me and I’ll let you know.” She said, her voice clipped and stiff.
“Thank you my dear.” He bowed respectfully to her. “When will I hear back from you about this investigation?” he asked the two detectives.
“We’ll get back to you.” Maria said, her voice still stiff.
“Most investigations take a week to two weeks.” Keith said. “But don’t worry; we’ll be right on track. And don’t call us, we’ll call you.”
“Excellent.” The Doctor nodded. “Thank you again.” He left the office, closing the door and Maria and Keith heard him conversing with Helen outside.
Keith looked over at Maria and smirked. “So, looking forward to being a lab rat?” he said.
Maria shook her head. “Fuckin’ human obsessive.” She snorted. “Treating me like I’m some sort of anomaly who should be studied rather than a legitimate member of society.”
“Thought that’d have you punching out a wall.” Keith commented. “That’s your usual reaction to people like him.”
Maria shrugged. “I guess I calmed down.” She said.
“What made you do that?”
“When I realized I could make him pay me through the nose for going to speak to his class.” Maria grinned. “You know, for my troubles.”
Keith grinned too. “I like the way you think.”
*
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