Page 89 of Hospital for Immortal Creatures

“Do you think Smith is capable of killing Mary Clare?” Zacharia had asked.

“I don’t know…” Miranda had taken a moment to think. “Maybe, maybe not. Honestly, I feel bad for him. The others avoid him. Sometimes a creature just needs a helping hand.”

“What’s so weird about him?”

Aside from his hunched shoulders, the drops of sweat on his forehead and above his upper lip, and the hair slicked to one side, Zacharia hadn’t seen anything all too disturbing in the man.

Miranda had smiled with bitterness. “Well, the women claim he stares at them. And that he steals their stuff. Scarves, gloves, lipstick… One of the surgeons said his briefs are missing.”

Her words soon had Zacharia ready to bet the assistant had killed Mary Clare. Then Mikhail told him about the man with the mohawk haircut. And despite Elisanda Grace not having mentioned this man before, it was worth investigating.

One might think it would be child’s play to find a creature with that hairstyle in a confined space like the Hospital. But as it turned out, the idiotic trendy style was widespread not just among humans, but among immortals as well. Zacharia had tracked down eight mohawks and neither one appeared connected to Mary Clare, at least not at first glance.

Then Zacharia received a surprising phone call.

“I’ve got someone with me who wants to tell you something.” It was the ever-confident voice of the head housekeeper Stella on the line.

“Where?”

“Laundry room.”

Zacharia had planned on digging around Mary Clare’s friends and questioning them before the Tribunal agents arrived.

“Can it wait? I’m very busy,” he told Stella.

“It’s the murdered chambermaid’s roommate. She thinks she has important information.”

A plan started forming in Zacharia’s head. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

He asked Miranda to call over the lab assistant Cony Smith for an emergency and keep him occupied for an hour or so. When the witcher left his lair, Zacharia broke in. In less than thirty seconds, he spotted the giant plastic bag under the bed, stuffed with lingerie, socks, make-up, hair bands and all kinds of paraphernalia that Cony had, in fact, stolen.

What do you know… Miranda was right.

Zacharia headed to the laundry room, carrying the plastic bag over his shoulder.

Stella was a vampire who had reached her immortality later than usual, in her mid-fifties. This, along with the fifteen or so years that she had visibly aged since 1744, gave her a maternal appearance that could easily win people over. The wrinkles around her brown eyes and the corners of her mouth accentuated her authority.

He found Stella, with her perfect posture and immaculately ironed uniform, towering over a young woman in a chair, holding her hand. “This is Dara. One of my girls. She worked with Mary and was her roommate,” Stella said.

Dara, who was also wearing a uniform, gave Zacharia a suspicious once-over. She was willowy, with a sharp nose and brown hair tied in a neat bun. Her gaze was red and puffy, her cheeks moist with tears.

“Roommates?” Zacharia pulled a chair and sat opposite her, leaving the bag on the ground.

Her voice trembled. “Mary and I have been sharing a room for five years.”

“Were you two close?”

“Yes.” Dara stared at her ordinary black shoes. “When I came here, I didn’t know anybody. Mary helped me fit in. We were like sisters. But she was acting weird lately.”

“What do you mean?”

The woman faced him. “Well, she… she was hiding something.”

“Don’t be afraid, darling. Tell him everything you told me,” Stella encouraged.

Dara’s eyes filled with wariness. Of course, she recognised him. Everybody in the Hospital did – his appearance anywhere on the grounds promised nothing more than trouble for the visited. “Sir…”

“Call me Zacharia,” he said in a friendly voice. Intimidating her was the last thing he wanted. For now.

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