This story is based on characters created by Gerry and Sylvia Anderson for the TV series Captain Scarlet and the Mysterons.

Some events and characters Copyright © of all trademarks materials (Captain Scarlet & the Mysterons, all characters, vehicles, crafts, etc.), owned by ITC/Polygram/Carlton. Information of the series are all been taken from copyright © materials (books, magazines, videos, T.V. media, comics, etc) owned by ITC/Polygram/Carlton.

MASTER OF THE NIGHT

A “Captain Scarlet” short story

By Chris Bishop

“I can’t see a damned thing. Are you sure we’re even on the road?”

Melody Angel drew her coat closer around her shoulders, the dampness nearly chilling her to the bone. She didn’t like the weather, nor the atmosphere, nor the place, as she looked nervously around, trying to see beyond the thick fog surrounding the car. The only things she was able to see were the silhouettes of trees, closer to the road side. They looked like grotesque and distorted skeletons, of some unknown and very scary creatures. That did nothing to reassure her at all.

“We’re definitely on the road,” Captain Ochre, sitting by her side, dressed, like her, in civvies, answered quietly. “So far Paul hasn’t driven us into the ditch, so…”

“Very funny, Rick!” Paul Metcalfe – Captain Scarlet – who was behind the wheel gave a nasty glare at his friend and colleague, through the rearview mirror. “You can drive if you want.”

“I’d rather not. I’m comfortable where I am, thanks.” Ochre drew closer to Melody, and put his right arm around her shoulders. She gave him a mean look.

“Watch it,” she said with a warning tone.

“What?” Ochre replied, opening his eyes wide in perplexity, as if he didn’t understand the reason for her protests. “I thought you were cold. I was just trying to warm you up a little!”

Melody snorted, not really sure if Ochre was sincere or not. With Ochre, one never knew. In any case, she didn’t want to elaborate. “I’m not cold,” she answered dryly. “Just not comfortable, that’s all. I think this setting is getting to me. It’s not really reassuring.”

The car took another bump and then a hole, just the latest of a long series it had encountered since it had taken that last turn, nearly a half hour ago, following Rhapsody’s last directions. The vehicle’s various jolts didn’t seem to faze her three Spectrum colleagues, but they were getting on Melody’s presently frail nerves. And she was known to have quite a fiery temper.

“Dianne, you’re sure we’re on the right road?”

Seated in the passenger seat up front, Rhapsody Angel made a last verification on the onboard computer map. She nodded her head in the affirmative. “According to the map, we’re going the right way,” she answered in her quiet English voice, which contrasted with the unnerved tone of her fellow pilot. “But I must admit, I don’t recognize most of it.”

“With all this fog, that doesn’t surprise me,” Scarlet noted.

“Even without it, I’m not so sure I would recognize it anyway. It’s been fifteen years since I came here last.” Rhapsody looked around, and further down the road, narrowing her eyes, and nodded. “I do remember that we passed through a forest, and that the road was as bumpy then as it is now.”

As if on cue, one of the wheels rolled into a new hole, and Melody almost jumped from her seat. She emitted a dissatisfied grunt. “Why couldn’t we chosen a place where we could FLY IN, in a plane or a chopper, to have a few days off, anyway?” she grumbled in a very dry tone.

“Because my cousin’s inn doesn’t have a place for an aircraft to land,” Rhapsody deadpanned, rather amused by her friend’s misfortune. “And it’s been a long time since I’ve had any news from her… let alone an invitation to visit and stay at her place for a few days!”

All of them were on Cloudbase when Rhapsody had received the invitation, some days ago. With Captain Scarlet – to whom she was secretly engaged – Rhapsody was planning a couple of days’ furlough, the first the two of them had had for a long time. They had not decided yet on a specific destination, when the letter from Rhapsody’s American cousin in Maine arrived by the courier plane, forwarded by the British pilot’s mother. Olivia Merritt was cousin to Rhapsody’s mother. She had married a famous writer/movie director by the name of Harlan Merritt, and had been living in the United States for the last thirty years. Rhapsody had not heard from her cousin for a very long time – the last she had seen of her was about fifteen years ago, when she was only a young teenager. She had fond memories of Olivia and her place somewhere near the coast of Maine – a former inn, transformed into a mansion to fit her late husband’s curious taste.

Rhapsody had talked at some length of Olivia and her place, enough to stir her fiancé’s curiosity, and to compel him to propose that they accept the invitation to go visit her during their next furlough. Captain Ochre, present in the officers’ lounge when the two were debating the subject, had found a way to get himself invited, as he would also be off duty at that exact period. Neither Scarlet and Rhapsody were too sure they would appreciate Ochre’s presence, as they would have preferred to be alone, all by themselves, and take advantage of those few precious moments they seldom were able to steal for themselves. But Ochre had been rather convincing – and neither of them was too sure exactly HOW he persuaded them to agree. They felt for sure they had been taken for a ride by the quick-witted ex-policeman that was Ochre. They couldn’t believe either that he actually found a way to talk Melody Angel – who also had a three-day furlough coming at about the same time – into coming with them. It was clear from the very beginning that the young black woman had accepted the proposition reluctantly. How Ochre had wheedled her was a complete mystery.

So Rhapsody made a single phone call to her cousin Olivia, and a few days later, the four of them were on their way to Maine.

As soon as they left Bangor International Airport, they rented a car to drive to Merrittsport, the harbour village next to which was situated the old inn owned by Olivia. A town, Rhapsody reported, that had been founded by Harlan Merritt’s ancestors, sometime in the 17^th century. Despite the directions given to Rhapsody by her cousin, and her rough map, they still had to ask some inhabitants of the small town for further directions to the inn. Curiously, when they asked for a guide, they found nobody ready to take them there. Two people feigned to ignore them, and one other said he didn’t know where the mansion could be. They were finally given the needed information by the man tending the gas station, rather quickly, but very precisely. That was quite bizarre, but they thought they understood the reason for such behaviour as they started passing through this very dark and creepy forest. It was probable people weren’t comfortable trekking through it.

Melody knew she wasn’t comfortable riding through it, and she suddenly made her displeasure obvious. “And this place HAD to be in the middle of such a sinister forest!”

“Come on, Mag! Where’s your sense of adventure?” Scarlet admonished her with a faint smile.

“I left it on Cloudbase,” Melody grumbled. “I was planning on a couple of days of peace and quiet… I didn’t count on trekking through woods that would make a horror movie producer proud!”

“That’s what Harlan Merritt was, you know?” Ochre said matter-of-factly. “And nobody forced you to come with us, my dear!”

The look Melody gave him was simply murderous. “Thank you SO MUCH for your concern, Captain Mustard!” she scoffed loudly. “Need I remind you that YOU COAXED ME into coming?”

“My, we really are in a grumpy mood, aren’t we?”

“And now you know whose fault it is!”

“Come on, you two, stop it!” Scarlet couldn’t help but be somewhat amused by his two passengers’ behaviour. “We’ve only got a couple of days. We should be enjoying ourselves, not jumping down each other’s throats! What would Rhapsody’s cousin think of us?”

Melody made some kind of a face at Ochre and turned her back on him, without caring to answer Scarlet’s remark. As for Captain Ochre, he seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously.

“Is that a windmill?”

The car was passing by a very old construction, about ten metres from the side of the road, in the middle of a clearing, still very noticeable, despite the fog. Rhapsody looked in the direction Scarlet had indicated. She could see the tower, made of old stones, with its four motionless sails. The whole building seemed be supported by a wooden scaffold on one side. Rhapsody grinned broadly.

“It is a windmill,” she confirmed to Scarlet. “Still out of action too, I see.” She smiled, reminiscing. “It’s just the way I remember it, scaffolding and all, when I used to play there fifteen years ago.”

“Quite a place for an adventurous girl,” Ochre noted with a smirk of his own.

Rhapsody chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it! The reason I have such fond memories of my cousin Olivia’s place may be because I had so much fun there, exploring its surroundings. There’s a cemetery behind that windmill where you can find the best raspberries I ever ate!”

Melody gave her fellow pilot an odd stare. “Cemetery?”

“An old one. I don’t think it’s in use anymore. Like this windmill. Must come from the same era, if you want my opinion.”

“Quite picturesque,” Ochre noted, examining the windmill as they were driving away from it. “I’ll have to come take a closer look at it.”

“You’ll have a chance. It’s not far from Olivia’s house. But you’ll have to go through the cemetery to get to it.”

Ochre scoffed. “You think that scares me?”

“That’s really great!” Melody mumbled again. “A cemetery so near to the house. As if this place wasn’t sinister enough with this fog and these woods!”

“You’re afraid of cemeteries?” Ochre asked her, lifting an eyebrow.

“They make me feel uncomfortable.” Melody shivered. “You got to admit, they’re not very lively places…”

“Well, filled with dead people, I shouldn’t think so… But why would you be afraid of cemeteries, anyway? It’s not like those people would rise up from their tombs and come after you!”

“Don’t be stupid! I know dead people don’t walk!”

“Most of them, anyway,” Scarlet grumbled from up front. His remark won him a murderous look from Rhapsody and a violent elbow nudge between his ribs.

“Ouch! What did I say?” he asked, frowning at the young woman.

“You know perfectly well!” she admonished him. “Sometimes, Paul, you’re as subtle as a brick!”

“That’s quite all right, Dianne,” Melody smiled faintly. “There’s no harm done. You can say anything you want, I don’t mind at all.”

“You’re sure?” Ochre inquired, frowning with doubt. “I thought you said the setting was getting to you. And now, with the mention of that cemetery…”

“I said I’m not afraid of cemeteries!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Will you leave her alone, Rick?” Rhapsody said, sighing. “Sometimes, you can be such a kid!”

Out of the fog, right at the moment the car was negotiating a last curve, straight ahead at the end of the road appeared a big old-style mansion, with many windows, almost all lit up, and dark gables set over the row of windows on the top floor. There was a very curious construction on the east wing of the mansion, looking strangely like some kind of medieval tower. Rhapsody confirmed it was her cousin’s inn, much to the others’ relief. The road had been a long and very difficult one, and they all were eager to get out of the car.

Scarlet parked the vehicle not far from the front door – the drive was almost big enough for ten cars. The four got out. The slamming of the doors echoed through the fog, and Melody found herself looking around nervously. She shrugged derisively, and admonished herself inwardly for acting like a frightened little girl. For God’s sake, she was an Angel pilot! One of Spectrum’s finest!

She joined the others as they came to the front door, and Scarlet rang the doorbell. An old fashioned ‘ding dong’, loud enough, made itself heard from the interior.

Ochre had sneaked past Rhapsody to approach Scarlet from behind. As the last echo of the bell died away, Ochre puffed out his cheeks, and suddenly, from out of his throat came a deep and low, very sinister voice, that made Scarlet nearly jump out of his skin: “YOU RANNNNG?”

Scarlet turned around quickly. From the look on his face, suddenly pale, the others could have sworn he had seen – or rather heard – a ghost. That was enough for Ochre to burst into a loud laugh.

“That’s not FUNNY, Rick!” Scarlet almost yelled, realizing he had been the victim, yet again, of his friend’s intensely annoying taste for pranks. “I thought I had the Mysterons breathing down my neck!”

“No, Paul, you’re mistaken!” Rhapsody came into the defence of a broad-grinning Ochre. She was obviously having difficulty keeping a straight face and Scarlet could see that even Melody was trying her best not to chuckle – and wasn’t succeeding very well. “Rick wasn’t doing the Mysterons’ voice.”

The British captain frowned, obviously perplexed. Melody smiled in turn, nodding. “It was Lurch, the butler from that old ‘Addams Family’ show.”

“Sorry?”

“Big, tall, Frankenstein-type fellow,” Melody explained, “who played the harpsichord, and said that same line every time a bell rang in the house?” She turned to Rhapsody, producing a faint apologetic smile. “You gotta admit, THIS place does have the same kind of creepy feeling…”

“Don’t know anything about that,” Scarlet noted grumpily.

“‘The Addams Family’, Paul. It’s an old black and white television classic,” Rhapsody explained. “An American comedy series. More than an hundred years old…”

“Still doesn’t ring a bell.” Scarlet swiftly pointed a warning finger under Ochre’s nose, seeing that he was opening his mouth to say something. “And don’t YOU start again!”

Ochre shook his head, still with that same amused smirk on his lips.

“How sad it must have been for you, Metcalfe, to grow up in such a strict military house, where you were devoid of the joy of television!”

Scarlet’s brow furrowed deeply. “First of all, I’ll have you know that I had a VERY happy childhood! And second, if that’s all the culture you can dredge up from American television…”

He didn’t have the opportunity to finish his sentence as the door behind him opened wide. He turned around. A slim woman of about Rhapsody’s height, dressed in a long, black dress, with straight, black, grey-streaked hair and fine blue eyes, was looking straight at him. She had a very large smile on her gaunt face, showing up two rows of pearly white teeth.

It was impossible to put an age to that woman. She could as easily have passed for forty, as for sixty.

“There you are, my darling!”

She had a very stylish, very English accented voice, as she suddenly discovered Rhapsody, not far away, next to Ochre. She passed by Scarlet, almost without seeing him and walked – no, glided – toward the young woman, taking her into her arms. She was apparently overjoyed to see her cousin.

“Cousin Olivia, how nice it is to see you, after all these years!” Rhapsody said with a smile as her cousin embraced her – she found her to be extremely strong.

“It is nice indeed!” Olivia took a step back and looked the younger woman from head to toes and then back again. “But you’ve grown up to become a very beautiful woman, my darling! I hardly recognized you from that tomboy you used to be! That red hair gave you away, though!” She turned around quickly and went back into the house, nearly bowling Ochre and Scarlet over. “Come, come! You must not stay out like this! All of you, you’ll be better in the house!”

Scarlet smiled, amused by the enthusiasm demonstrated by Rhapsody’s cousin, then turned towards the two Angels, who were hesitating to follow suit. “Go in, girls. Rick and I will get the luggage.”

Rhapsody nodded, smiling in turn, and she entered the house with Melody. Scarlet and Ochre went back to the car, and opened the trunk to take out all the luggage they had put in there for this little trip. It always surprised them, how many clothes women packed for even such a short trip.

“Now I remember that television show,” Scarlet confessed to Ochre, as he was struggling to tuck under his left arm two of Rhapsody’s four suitcases. “That Lurch character was married to a woman who looked a lot like cousin Olivia, right?”

Ochre sniggered, closing the trunk. “No,” he said shaking his head. “That would be Herman, from ‘The Munsters’. HE really looked like Frankenstein.” He chuckled openly. “And yes, his wife Lily looked A LOT like Rhapsody’s cousin. In the sense that she has something ‘Yvonne de Carlo’-like about her.”

Scarlet shrugged, directing his steps toward the door, followed by Ochre. “I never really cared for Frankenstein, anyway…”

Both men entered the house one after the other. Ochre was struggling to close the door with his foot when Olivia came toward them, arms open this time, as if she had just noticed them. Behind her, standing under a big arch beyond which was a large living room, Rhapsody and Melody were watching, expressions of amusement upon their faces. Olivia embraced Ochre, nearly making him lose his footing. She then turned to greet Scarlet, who was feeling quite awkward, with his arms full of luggage.

“I’m such a bad hostess… Please excuse me, gentlemen, for not receiving you properly! And with you being friends of my little Dianne… But I hope you understand, it has been such a long time since I’ve seen her!” She noticed the luggage and gestured negligently. “Leave that anywhere! We’ll have plenty of time to take care of that!”

“We wouldn’t want to make a mess around the place, Ms. Merritt,” Ochre noted with a shy smile. “Why, what would your guests think?”

“What, didn’t Dianne tell you?” the older woman replied. “There haven’t been paying customers here for donkey’s years! You are my ‘guests’ for the next few days.” She smiled back at Ochre. “It never really was an ‘inn’ since my dear Harlan bought it, so many years ago – God rest his soul. From time to time, I receive visitors, but that’s all. We’ve never rented the rooms out ourselves.”

“That’s very generous of you, Mrs. Merritt,” Scarlet remarked, putting down the luggage.

“Olivia, PLEASE, call me Olivia.” She eyed the black-haired young man carefully. “You must be Paul,” she decided. And turning to Ochre, who was closing the door, after having carefully leant his luggage against a nearby wall, “and you are Richard.”

Ochre smiled mockingly. “You must be a mind-reader, Olivia.” There was a good chance that Rhapsody would have told her cousin of their identities in the first place, and probably of their respective nationalities. After hearing Scarlet’s English-accented voice, the guess wasn’t too difficult, then.

“You young people must be famished!” Olivia continued. “Dinner is ready, and Tania was about to serve. Really, I was despairing of seeing you arrive to keep me company!”

Scarlet’s smile widened. This cousin Olivia, although apparently eccentric and certainly colourful, seemed like a very sympathetic person. He could see why Rhapsody was so fond of her.

“I must admit, Olivia,” he told the woman with a nod, “I am famished. We had a long drive…”

“Not to mention difficult,” Melody added quickly.

“Yes,” Olivia noted with a thoughtful air, “The road here is NOT an easy one. But Tania will make it up to you. She’s such a wonderful cook! Come now! We don’t want to keep dinner waiting, don’t you agree?”

“Lead the way, Olivia,” Rhapsody told her cousin with fond amusement.

Olivia had not waited for her input. She was now walking toward a door, and her guests followed suit, Scarlet and Rhapsody, bringing up the rear. The former leaned toward his fiancée, and spoke to her in a confidential tone.

“I think I’m going to like your cousin,” Scarlet whispered.

“Really?” Rhapsody answered with a smile.

“Well, she’s a little bit strange, but…”

“Watch it,” Rhapsody warned, hearing perfectly well the teasing in Scarlet’s tone. “Don’t forget… she’s part of my family.”

He chuckled. “Okay, I’ll behave. But I just HAVE to ask her about your childhood. I have a hard time picturing you as a ‘tomboy’.”

“Paul, to a woman like Olivia, every girl climbing a tree qualifies as a tomboy.”

“I wonder what she would say then, if she knew about your chosen profession…” Scarlet mused. “She’d be shocked…”

“Don’t you DARE tell her!”

“What’s in it for me for NOT telling her?” he teased her.

She smiled knowingly. “What do you want for keeping your mouth shut?”

Scarlet answered with a smile of his own, and took her by the shoulders to go join the others. “I’m sure we’ll come to some sort of arrangement…”

The dinner was a real feast. None of the four Spectrum agents remembered having eaten so much and so well in a long time. Tania – Olivia’s cook – had a real gift that would have made her the envy of the most renowned of restaurants. After staying at the table for over an hour, and eating all the good food served to them, everyone had forgotten about the difficulties of the trip to the inn. Even Melody was in a rather good mood, now. The dinner was very lively, with discussions of all kinds – especially between Rhapsody and her cousin, who had not seen each other for such a long time.

After dinner, Olivia took everybody to the living room, where a warm fire was burning in the fireplace. All the furniture in the room had an old style to it; there were two black chesterfield sofas, where Scarlet, Rhapsody and Melody sat, and a very large leather armchair, that Captain Ochre immediately chose as his own. Olivia came to join them after a little while, bringing a silver tray, with a crystal decanter of brandy, and glasses. She served her guests, like the good hostess she was, and then came to sit on the sofa occupied by Scarlet and Rhapsody – right between the two of them. That was at that moment that Scarlet realized that their bags weren’t where they had left them anymore. Olivia then explained that they had been taken upstairs to their rooms by James, the manservant of the house.

“You have many employees?” Ochre asked her, with curiosity.

“Not as many as we used to have, when Harlan was still with us,” Olivia confided. “He loved having people around the house to serve his every whim. That was his only flaw, I’m afraid. No, now I only have James and his wife Tiffany, who clean the mansion and do most of the chores, Stanley, the gardener, and Tania, of course, my cook – I couldn’t live without her!”

“Make sure to give her our compliments,” Melody said. “Everything on that table was absolutely fabulous!”

“Well, you certainly are in a good mood, now!” Ochre remarked, blinking at the Angel pilot and saluting her with his glass. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore for you that this house is near a cemetery?”

Melody felt herself becoming very hot. She shot the culprit a murderous look. “Do you have a death wish or what, Cap… Mister Fraser?”

“You shouldn’t be afraid of cemeteries, my dear,” Olivia told her. “And this one… Well, it’s very old. They do not bury anyone there anymore.” She smiled slightly. “In any case, my neighbours are very quiet.”

“I’m not afraid of cemeteries,” Melody defended herself, seeming to take offence at the assertion.

“Of course, you’re not,” Ochre piped up. “Why would we doubt you?”

“Rick, stop teasing her,” Scarlet admonished his colleague.

“Thank you, Paul, but I can defend myself.” Melody turned back her attention to Ochre, with a challenging glitter in her eyes. Rick’s in trouble, Scarlet thought. “What is it you want?” Melody asked her compatriot.

“Proof that you’re REALLY not afraid,” he answered quietly.

“Is that all? I’ll give it to you! We’ll go take a walk in that cemetery, together.”

Ochre lifted an eyebrow. “This evening?”

“Yes, tonight. Around midnight, if that suits you. And since you were so interested in that windmill we saw earlier, we’ll go there, and then come back, right through that cemetery!”

“That’s nearly an hour’s walk!” Rhapsody noted.

“That suits me fine,” Ochre answered lifting his glass to the young woman and grinning mischievously.

Rhapsody rolled her eyes. “Will you two STOP acting like children? This is all going to end in tears, I just know it.”

“Leave them alone, Dianne,” Scarlet said with an amused smile. “What could happen out there, anyway?”

“I see you never saw Mag REALLY angry,” Rhapsody replied. “If you go too far, Rick, and play one of your insufferable jokes on her, she’s liable to hurt you.”

Ochre scoffed loudly. “I don’t intend to do ANYTHING to her,” he protested. “I’ll just stay near her, and make sure she doesn’t hurt HERSELF, if she happens to panic out there.”

“Don’t hold your breath!” Melody answered between her teeth. “You should know by now that I’m not chicken, Fraser!”

Ochre was about to say something – anything, just so he could have the last word – when a voice suddenly boomed from behind them all, coming from the hall, and startling everybody. It was a deep, rich, English-accented voice, barely able to conceal the chuckle behind its slightly bemused tone: “That’s the way to tell him, my dear lady! A woman of fire, ready to take up any challenge! That’s always something worth seeing!”

Everyone turned around to look upon the newcomer. Standing next to a crooked little man, a well-dressed younger man in his early thirties, and about six feet tall, was standing under the big arch between the hall and the living room; his eyes were about as dark as his hair, with an amused glitter in them, that matched the sly grin on his thin lips. Seeing him, Olivia seemed to shiver, but her face almost instantly lit up, and she rose to approach him. “Archie! What a marvellous surprise!”

The man’s smile broadened as she reached him, her arms opened in a welcoming gesture. He gently caught up her right hand and grazed the back of it with his lips.

“My dear Olivia! It’s always a pleasure to see you!”

He was a rather handsome man, if somewhat pale, that being accented by his long dark hair, caught back in a ponytail on his neck. Olivia seemed caught up in his charm. And Ochre and Scarlet, seeing the way Melody and Rhapsody were looking at the man, could see they were finding him quite appealing as well. Both men felt suddenly disgruntled by this man’s mere presence.

Olivia had answered to his smile with one of her own. “I really wasn’t expecting you to come back home for a long time,” she noted. “How was your trip to England?”

“Eventful,” the man answered cheerfully, showing two lines of pearly white teeth. “I’m just off the plane, actually. I’ve come directly here, before going back to my house.”

“To fetch the mail you asked me to pick up for you?” Olivia asked with a falsely pouting face.

He laughed, and wagged an index finger at her. “Ah, you know it’s not JUST for that! Any excuse is good for me to visit you! But unfortunately, I still have so much work to do, and I won’t be able to stay.”

“Oh, you work too hard! And you’re such a recluse! That’s not good for a young man like you!”

“And I see you have some guests,” the man continued, looking into the living room, where he could see the four Spectrum agents. “I wouldn’t want to impose myself…”

“Oh, tish, tosh!” Olivia turned to the older, little man, still standing nearby. “James, would you go into my office to fetch Mister Leach’s mail for him? It should be in the first drawer of my worktable, on the left.” The man nodded his understanding and went his way, up the stairs. Olivia took the hand of her visitor, and lead him into the living room, toward her guests, who, watching him approach, politely got to their feet. The looks in the men’s eyes were somehow different from that in the women’s. “At least, stay a little while, at least for long enough for me to make the introductions…”

They stopped in front of both Rhapsody and Melody. Behind the two Angels stood Scarlet and Ochre. “Archie, this is my cousin’s daughter, Dianne Simms, from England.”

“Miss Simms…” To the Spectrum agents’ perplexity, the man slightly bowed his head to Rhapsody.

“…And her friend, Miss Magnolia Jones…”

He turned to Melody. Then his eyes raised to meet the latter’s, and his smile broadened even more. “From down South, I presume… Georgia, isn’t it?”

“Atlanta,” Melody confirmed, rather astounded that he would have guessed so precisely.

“A lovely city,” the man continued, not taking his eyes off Melody. “I should think of going there more often… Maybe I would have encountered you?”

“She doesn’t live there, anymore,” Captain Ochre suddenly declared with a dry enough tone.

That annoyed Melody greatly; she had heard the hostility in her compatriot’s tone. Olivia, on the other hand didn’t seem to notice.

“Mister Richard Fraser,” she presented, gesturing toward the American captain. “And another compatriot of ours, Mister Paul Metcalfe.” She put a hand on the man’s arm. “This is Mister Archibald Leach, a very old friend.”

“Mister Leach…” Scarlet extended his hand to the man who briefly stared down at it, before finally taking it. Both shook hands, looking into each other’s eyes. “What part of England are you from, Mister Leach?” Scarlet asked with curiosity. He couldn’t put a region to the man’s accent, as much as he would have liked to do with him what Leach himself had done with Melody.

“Around, actually…” Leach replied, rather vaguely. “I don’t stay long in any one place…” He simply nodded his acknowledgement to Ochre. The latter briefly answered back in the same fashion, if only to stay polite. It was, however, obvious he really wasn’t fond of the man.

“Archie has a house some miles from here,” explained Olivia, who didn’t seem to be able to detach her eyes from her visitor. “It’s beyond the woods, up on the cliff… Actually, that was the mansion of the original owner of this inn.”

“I’m not there often,” Leach noted. “But when I am, I regularly come to visit my dear friend Olivia. And it’s not only because she’s my nearest neighbour.”

“Old friend of the family?” Rhapsody remarked with a large smile. The man didn’t seem much older than herself.

“Olivia’s introduction was quite right, Miss Simms,” he answered quietly. “I… look considerably younger than I really am.”

“How considerably?” Ochre asked.

He received an irritated Melody’s elbow in the stomach; somehow, he was expecting it, so he had braced himself for the impact. That didn’t make it hurt any less, however. Apparently, Leach noticed him flinch, by the smile that quickly swept over his face. But he didn’t say anything.

“Archie has lived in that house for many years,” Olivia explained, giving a glass of brandy to her new guest. “But we never saw him. We met when our car broke down in front of his house. That was… what, five years ago, Archie?”

“Nearly seven, my dear.”

“Archie worked with Harlan during his last movie,” Olivia continued.

“You’re an actor?” Scarlet asked with curiosity.

Leach scoffed. “Frankly, Mister Metcalfe, would the name ‘Archie Leach’ be suitable for an actor? No, I was merely a consultant for Harlan Merritt. Such a talented producer – and writer.”

Ochre himself wasn’t so sure about Harlan Merritt’s being so talented; he had seen some of his movies and read some of his books. Granted, the man had some talent, but it never seemed to Ochre that he had fully demonstrated it. And some of the scenes he described, in books and movies, could have been taken as the manifestation of a very sick mind. In deference to Olivia, he didn’t say a word about it; he watched with growing displeasure, as Archibald Leach sat down on the chair he himself had occupied a few minutes ago. He sat down on the sofa, next to Melody, keeping a sharp eye on the man. There was something about him that he didn’t like; he couldn’t say what exactly. Maybe it was just the way the girls were staring at him…

“What kind of movies did Mister Merritt produce?”

Ochre gave an odd look at Scarlet, who had asked the question. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked his colleague. “You’re telling us you never heard of Harlan Merritt?”

“Well, maybe I have,” Scarlet defended himself. “The name is certainly familiar but…”

Olivia could see the embarrassment on the young man’s face. She smiled slightly. She didn’t take offence of his lack of knowledge concerning her late husband. “Harlan specialized in horror movies,” she explained.

“Horror movies?” Scarlet seemed puzzled.

“Big, fancy, gory movies, with lots of blood splashing around,” Ochre specified with a malicious grin.

Melody opened large eyes of horror.

“You mean… those movies where a girl is usually chased around by a maniac brandishing a hatchet?” Scarlet asked, frowning.

“The last one I saw, the killer was armed with a drill.” Ochre just kept going on for Melody’s benefit. It worked.

“PLEASE! Will you cut that out?” she protested vehemently.

“Afraid, my dear?” Ochre inquired.

“No. Sick. I’ll remind you that we just ate, less than an hour ago.”

Ochre chuckled; Melody seemed much more furious than sick, in reality. She had turned to address Leach; now THAT wasn’t at all what Ochre would have preferred…

“And you were consultant to Mister Merritt for that kind of movie, Mister Leach?”

“Call me Archie, please,” he answered with a smile. “No, only for his last one…”

“‘Alley of Blood’,” Ochre specified, without apparently needing to tax his memory very much.

Rhapsody narrowed her eyes at him. “Why am I not surprised that you should know that precisely, Rick?”

He shrugged; he didn’t want to elaborate on the subject that, if NOW he didn’t think much of Harlan Merritt’s productions, there was a time, when he was much younger, where he had been fond of them. And there were movies, he had to admit, which had broken away from Merritt’s usual mold. ‘Alley of Blood’, his last movie, was one of those. It was his testament. Merritt had died just a few days before it hit the theatres. He probably just had the time to see the finished product.

“What was it about?” Melody asked with curiosity.

Ochre smiled mischievously. “You’re sure you want to know?”

She sighed tiredly. “I realize that with a title like ‘Alley of Blood’, and considering Mister Merritt’s expertise, it can’t be a cartoon!” she grumbled. “Now will you STOP acting as if I were a coward?!”

“It was about vampires,” Olivia answered quickly.

“Vampires?” Melody stared at Leach, with curiosity in her eyes. “You were consultant on a vampire movie?”

“I made lengthy studies of vampires,” Leach answered quietly. “I even wrote a book… You could say I’m rather a leading authority on the subject.”

“As fact or fiction?” Ochre deadpanned. He could feel three pairs of eyes turning furious or annoyed gazes at him, but curiously, it was not the case with Leach. He simply smiled, the kind of smile coming from someone who thinks he knows better, and then shrugged, almost indifferently.

“Both, actually, Mister Fraser. Surely, you’ve heard already of people who THINK of themselves as vampires, to the point that they drink human blood, stolen from blood banks, or even attack unsuspecting souls, to satisfy their morbid taste?”

Ochre nodded his understanding. Indeed, he had heard about that. In fact, he had even been confronted with a case, in Detroit, early in his career, where a serial killer had acted in a way quite similar to what Leach was describing. The sick criminal had mutilated four people to drink their blood, before he was eventually found out and brought to justice. That was one of the saddest cases he had ever worked on.

“Wasn't there some old wives' tale about that around here?” he then heard Rhapsody say. “I seem to remember it when I was here last.”

“Oh! That was just gossip, my dear!” Olivia replied, waving her hand negligently. “I think those stories existed many, many years before Harlan and I bought this old place. Why, people have always been afraid to go too deep into these woods… Old fears are hard to overcome, I suppose. Especially those which have no justification!”

“That’s right,” Archibald Leach added, nodding. “Local legends are often considered as diehard facts by the natives. Try to tell them they’re only nonsense, they’d burn you at the stake!”

That piqued Ochre’s interest. Could that be why everybody in this town gave us the cold shoulder, when we asked for directions to this house? That would explain it…

James was coming back, with a thick stack of envelopes kept together by an elastic band. He quietly approached Olivia to give them to her, and then left as quietly as he had come, not looking behind him. Olivia handed the stack to Leach, who thanked her with a nod. He gave just one glance at his mail, then put it on the table next to him, taking a sip from his glass. Melody thought that now he had what he came for, this interesting man would soon be on his way. She didn’t want to see him leave right away, if only to wind Ochre up a little. She had noticed how her compatriot seemed to display an immediate dislike of Archibald Leach. Which, she had to confess, she couldn’t understand. The man was charming. Strange, but charming.

“How strange,” Melody then noted. “It seems odd that you should interest yourself in that subject…”

“Do you really think so?” Leach asked with a quiet smile. He gestured, showing his unnaturally pale face. “Even considering my… appearance?”

Melody suddenly felt awkward. Not only she, but the others exchanged embarrassed and perplexed stares. Leach chuckled. “Don’t worry. You could say I’m used to it.”

“Archie is afflicted with a rather rare ailment,” Olivia explained. “It’s called porphyria and is commonly nicknamed ‘the vampire sickness’.”

“But it has nothing to do with vampirism, really,” Leach continued quickly. “Victims of this strange condition are stricken with various and differing symptoms, but one of the most common and noticeable effects is cutaneous-related.” He produced a very faint smile. “For example, my skin is VERY sensitive to sunlight. It will burn easily, to the point of putting my life in danger.”

“Do all victims of that disease have the same problem?” Rhapsody asked with a frown.

Leach nodded quietly. “That’s why people who have porphyria don’t go out in the sun; they can’t stand it and prefer to wait for the sun to set before going outside.”

“That must be awful,” Melody noted with sympathy.

“I’ve got used to it, dear lady,” Leach smiled. “I just have to be very careful…”

“Are there other symptoms?”

Leach shrugged. “Anaemia, sensitive eyes, insomnia, sensitive stomach, abdominal pain… But I can’t complain. I’ve got a good life, really. I don’t have the most serious MENTAL affections, like anxiety, depression, or hallucinations, like some poor souls are affected with. Other known symptoms are restlessness, sensory loss, irritability, increased hair growth. When you consider all this, you’ll have no trouble understanding why this terrible disease earned its nickname. It is even believed that porphyria may be the origin of all those dreadful vampire legends…”

“Hence your interest in it,” Scarlet noted quietly.

“EXACTLY the reason for my interest in vampire legends. Yes, Mister Metcalfe. You’re right.”

“What about Dracula?” Ochre suddenly asked. If Leach had thought of raising some compassion from them with this story about his ailment, and seemed to have g