Sorry to have taken so long. Things got unexpectedly busy. However, here is the next part.

The Vampire Murders: 12/?
by Nan Smith

Previously:

"So," Henderson said, as they crossed the snowy hospital parking lot toward his car, "for some reason, whoever did this decided to take out all three men that locked you in Cost Mart's basement. You got any idea why?"

"No," Lois said.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

"Only if it isn't official," Lois said.

Henderson snorted. "No recording devices," he said. "And no witnesses that will ever admit to hearing it, I imagine." He glanced meaningfully at Lois's partner. "It won't come up unless I need it to nail the murderer. You have my word."

He saw her glance at her partner, who gave the faintest nod. "All right."

Henderson opened the door of his car and they got in. He started the engine, and after a moment, turned on the heater. "Go ahead."

"I guess," Lois said, "that we need to tell you about the tunnel --"

"Tunnel?"

"Under the Cost Mart parking lot," Clark said. "We checked it out last night."

**********

And now, Part 12:

Henderson listened without comment to the description of Lois and Clark's excursion into the depths of Cost Mart's smuggling tunnel, raising his eyebrows at the information that the tunnel had apparently encroached on some kind of Native American crypt. When they finished, he was silent for several minutes. It was too bad, he found himself thinking, not for the first time, that Lane and Kent had chosen to be investigative journalists instead of cops. On the other hand, their talents in this direction could have as easily been applied to a life of crime, so he was probably lucky they had decided on a career that stayed marginally within the law.

"So, this tunnel leads to one of the vacation houses in Mariner's Cove, which is apparently being used for smuggling?" he summarized.

"It sort of looks like it," Clark said. "Of course, we didn't see anything stored there, but they were moving something through the tunnel -- several boxes of something heavy -- and they must have brought it through the house to get it into the tunnel."

"And the door at the other end opens into the storeroom in Cost Mart's sub-basement," Henderson said slowly. "I thought I'd seen everything when it came to ingenious ways to smuggle drugs during my year on the Vice squad. Unfortunately, I can't use most of this for evidence."

"Yeah, I know," Lois said. "But there must be something we can do."

"Not 'we'", Henderson said. "I." He regarded Lois thoughtfully. "I can use some of what you've told me as a 'tip,' but if I reveal how you got the information it might open you up to prosecution -- trespassing, at the very least. But I appreciate what you've told me. It helps make some sense of the whole thing."

"Some of it," Clark amended. "It still doesn't explain the blood-drained bodies, though."

"There is, of course, that minor detail," Henderson agreed. "And I really want to nail whoever it was that killed the men in the park." He hesitated. "Look; this is off the record. Deal?"

Lois nodded.

"Victims two and three were my men. Undercover officers that worked at Cost Mart. They were there trying to find out who was behind the drugs coming into Metropolis. There's been an up-tick in the last year and we had information to the effect that someone from Cost Mart might be involved. But somebody killed them. I want the ones involved in it."

"Is it possible the smugglers did it?" Lois suggested.

"Maybe. But then why were Brunner and his two buddies killed the same way?" Henderson said.

"Good question," Clark said. "Maybe they weren't in on it."

"Then why did they grab me and lock me up if they weren't up to something they shouldn't be?" Lois pointed out reasonably. "Brunner said that I'd seen too much for him to let me go. I think he meant the elevator to the sub-basement." She made a face. "Something really doesn't add up."

"You know, Lois," Henderson said, "I've noticed you have a real talent for understatements. I'm going to take a look at the plans to the place when I get back to the Precinct. I'm willing to wager money on the bet that they don't include a sub-basement in any form, much less a tunnel."

"Me too," Lois said.

Henderson regarded her thoughtfully. "Care to show me this tunnel?" he inquired, as casually as he could.

Clark's heavy eyebrows rose slightly. "Isn't that illegal?" he asked, looking a little amused.

Henderson shrugged. "There's no law that says I can't go into the Cost Mart parking lot -- even if it is nearly midnight." He removed the wallet bearing his badge from his pocket and laid it on the passenger seat. "In any case, I'm not going to do this as a cop." He put the car in gear and they rolled slowly out onto the street.

**********

The Cost Mart parking lot was dimly lighted, Lois noted, just as it had been earlier, when Henderson pulled his car into a parking space not far from the tunnel. There were noticeably fewer cars now than when she had prowled around here through the snow, looking for her own vehicle, which was currently in the hands of the Metropolis Police Department. Henderson turned off the engine and killed the lights.

"That it?" he inquired, nodding at the area blocked off by the wooden barrier.

"Yeah." Lois opened her door, and belatedly pulled the leather jacket that she had brought from her apartment more tightly around her torso. It wasn't snowing any longer, but the damp air had a sharp bite to it. The mist of her breath curled away, dissipating like ghosts in the darkness.

"Okay," Henderson said. "Let's go have a look-see." He pushed open his door and got out as well, followed by Clark. Leaving the doors locked, and his badge prominently on the passenger seat, they moved cautiously toward the construction area.

There was no one to be seen. Between the lateness of the hour and the icy air, it seemed that no one was anxious to be out in the open just now, Lois thought. She skirted the barrier. "This is it."

Henderson knelt and peered down the hole. "There's a ladder," he confirmed. "Okay, here's where I do a little trespassing."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Bill?" Clark inquired. "You can't use anything you find as evidence."

"I know," Henderson said shortly, "but there are two widows, and seven kids who will never see their dads again. I owe them a lot more than I can ever make up for. I want to know what's going on and I'm going to find out."

Put that way, Lois could sympathize. Clark nodded. "Want me to go first? That way you can come to the rescue if I run into trouble."

One corner of the Inspector's mouth twitched. "No. You follow me." He swung over the side of the hole and began his descent.

As soon as he had vanished down the ladder, Lois got one foot on the top rung and followed. In less than a minute, her feet hit the stone of the tunnel floor, and seconds later, Clark joined them.

Henderson had a flashlight in one hand and was shining the light over the walls. He turned right. "Let's check out the door to the sub-basement, first."

"It's probably locked," Lois pointed out.

"Probably." Henderson started off toward the right, keeping his light trained on the mud-tracked stone floor.

As it had before, it took only three or four minutes until they came up against the metal door. Henderson flashed his light over it, examining it minutely. "Okay, let's go look at the rest of it." He turned and began to retrace his steps.

Lois and Clark followed Henderson as he made his way back to the ladder which led to the parking lot and past it toward the jog in the tunnel just before the ladder that gave onto the beach house. They walked in silence, Henderson shielding the light from his flash so that Lois could barely see where to put her feet.

"There's the entrance to the crypt," Clark said. He pointed at the spot, which, in the dim illumination of the shaded flashlight, appeared to be simply a darker spot in the wall where some of the dirt had collapsed.

Henderson nodded. "I'm going to want to look at that, too," he said. "First I want to see where this tunnel goes."

Clark's head whipped around abruptly. Lois looked in the same direction, but saw nothing but the dark tunnel behind them. "What?" she asked.

"I heard something." With one hand, Clark fiddled with his glasses, still looking back the way they had come. "I think someone's coming."

Henderson strained his ears. "I don't hear anything," he whispered.

"Hurry," Clark said. "Through there." Lois found herself being urged through the entrance into the crypt. Her spine prickled, but she was well aware that Clark's hearing was acute and that he very well might be able to hear things that she didn't.

Henderson came through on her heels, and Clark crowded through after them. The inspector abruptly flipped off his light. "Shhh." His whisper was a thread of sound.

Together, they crouched in the darkness. Outside their hiding place, Lois could now hear the soft scrape of approaching footsteps on stone. Beside her, she felt Henderson's body stiffen.

There was only one person, she thought. He moved swiftly through the tunnel, and she saw a tiny flicker of light filtering through the opening. She felt Henderson move quietly next to her, and in the faint illumination she saw his silhouette inching toward the opening to peer out after the mystery passerby. With difficulty, she restrained the temptation to grasp his arm, to caution him not to reveal himself. But Henderson relaxed suddenly, easing back into his previous position.

"He's gone," Clark's voice said softly.

"Yeah." Henderson's voice was as quiet as Clark's. "How do you two manage to get mixed up in these things?"

"Good question," Clark said, a trace of humor evident in his whispered words. "Shall we follow him?"

"Not yet." How Bill Henderson could sound dry and cynical when all she could hear was a voiceless whisper in pitch darkness, Lois wasn't sure. "As long as we're here, let's take a look at this place."

"You don't want to see where he went?" Lois demanded, almost outraged.

"We know where he went," Henderson said. "We aren't here to make an arrest. We're just here to explore and see what there is to see. We'll go see your beach house in a bit. I don't want to run into a pack of smugglers armed with AK-47s or something when all I have is my .38, and no warrant. Why don't you show me this coffin you found?"

Put that way, Lois decided, he had a point.

A light came on, and she realized that Clark had produced a penlight and was shining it on the walls of the ancient tunnel. "Here's some of the hieroglyphs we were telling you about," he said softly. "What do you think?"

Henderson got to his feet, although he hunched down slightly to avoid bumping his head on the low roof and leaned close to the spidery writing on the stone walls. "Hmm." His own light came on, illuminating the markings more clearly. "I recognize this style," he said finally. "We have some examples of it in the Metro Museum of Natural History. The local tribes that were here when the European settlers came often decorated burial crypts with a version of this. It's a combination of Indian hieroglyphs with influence from the English settlers."

"You *know* this stuff?" Lois nearly squeaked.

"Sure," Henderson said. "I studied some Archeology in college with a particular focus on local folklore, and I've made a point of studying it in more depth in my off time. It's kind of a hobby. The Metro Museum of Natural History has some really beautiful artifacts from their civilization. Why?"

"Uh -- I was just surprised. Not too many people know much about the -- uh -- indigenous people that used to inhabit this area." It figured, she thought. First there was Clark, who didn't even come from Metropolis, who could actually read some of this stuff. Now Henderson turned out to be an amateur archeologist and knew about it too. Sometimes she wondered if she had wasted her time in college, especially when somebody like Henderson, who had always impressed her as a no-nonsense law officer, turned out to have an interest in some esoteric subject like the early history of New Troy.

The Inspector's face remained deadpan. "I do have a life besides the one at the Precinct," he remarked. "Which way?"

"Follow me." Clark led the way toward the room where they had found the coffin.

As they walked, Henderson flashed his light on the walls of the tunnel, illuminating many more of the spidery hieroglyphs, and Lois saw him narrow his eyes as they passed a fairly thick bunch of them on the wall just before they reached the end chamber.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm not sure." Henderson stopped, shining his light on the markings. "I've seen these symbols before -- exactly the same."

"Where?"

"At the museum. They're painted on a deerskin that belonged to one of the medicine men of the tribe. It's dated at about the end of the fifteenth century."

"And?" Lois continued, when he stopped.

"I'm not sure. I'm going to need to talk to the museum director tomorrow."

"Why?" Lois asked.

"There was a legend," Henderson said. "I doubt it can have anything to do with this case, but I'd like to know, just for my own satisfaction."

"What kind of legend?"

Henderson shook his head. "I'll let you know after I talk to the expert," he said. "Let's go on."

"It's right through there," Clark said, pointing his light at the entrance to the end chamber. He moved ahead, ducking somewhat to avoid the low roof. Henderson followed, and Lois trailed behind.

And suddenly the men stopped. Lois nearly ran into Henderson. "Hey!"

"That's odd," Clark said.

"What is?" Lois asked.

"We left the lid closed," Clark said. "Now it's open."

**********

tbc


Earth is the insane asylum for the universe.