Forever Knight / Kung Fu

Will The Real Charlie Blander

Please Stand Up?

Don Schanke vainly tried to slip the bent out coat hanger along his leg. It should have been an easy thing to do, but with his right leg encased in plaster from his hip to his toes and suspended from a trapeze-like traction device, it was virtually impossible. He uttered a few earthy epithets and lay back on the hospital bed. It would have been different if he had been injured in the line of duty, but skateboarding? The guys at the precinct would never let him live it down.

"Donald George Schanke!" The voice from the doorway said. It belonged to his partner, Nicholas Knight. "What would your sainted mother say if she heard you using such language?"

"My ... sainted mother doesn't have an itch on her knee that's driving her looneytoons. If I don't get any relief soon, I'm gonna rip this cast off with my bare hands. You ever been in a cast?"

"Twice." He said. < Once, in 1225. In the Sinai desert. If you think this is miserable, try it in hundred degree heat. > He thought. < Of course it wasn't a plaster cast like this was. > His arm was only splinted and heavily bandaged, but the effect was the same. The other time was when he had been 'wounded' in Vietnam and had to wear a cast for appearances sake.

He held out a bag by just the tips of his fingers. From it wafted the unmistakable aroma of souvlaki, extra garlic and onions.

"An angel of mercy!" Don said, taking the sack from him. "A true angel come down from heaven to minister to this poor sick wretch. I was on the verge of starving from terminal blandness as a result of eating this hospital food." He opened the bag and took out the pungent sandwich.

"Well, that's what you get for trying to skateboard like you were a teenager." Nick gamely fought the urge to gag as Schanke took a huge bite.

"Jenny said it was practically foolproof and she made it look so easy, I had to give it a try." He took another bite.

"Jenny's only ten. You're what? Forty?"

"Really, Nick!" Schanke said in mock indignation. "Let's not get insulting. I'm only thirty nine." He smiled. "You're right, though. I had no business trying a double loop going backwards. I really do think I could have done it if that telephone pole hadn't jumped out in front of me."

Nick moved to the foot of the bed and took out a felt pen and began to write on the cast.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

"Signing your cast."

"On the foot?"

"Yeah, why not? When are they going to spring you?"

"The doctor said if everything checks out okay, they're gonna let me go home Thursday. I don't think I can take two more days of this. Even then, he isn't gonna let me go back to work until they put a walking cast on. That could be another three or four weeks. Why, oh why did I have to break it in three places?"

"You'll have Myra to comfort you. Think of it. Three weeks, or maybe even a month with the woman of your dreams. What could be better?"

"It's obvious you've never been married, Nick. True, I love Myra with my whole heart and my whole soul, but a month of being cooped up in the same house with her, and no way to escape?" He held his hands to his face. "I'm gonna go screaming mimi bonkers by that time." He looked down at his feet. "What in the world are you writing down there? The gospel according to Nicholas?"

"It'll give you a challenge trying to read it while you're recovering. "

"Got room for one more visitor?" Natalie Lambert poked her head in the doorway.

"Always, my fair Coroner." Schanke said waving the hand that held the souvlaki in a sweeping motion, cavalier style. Nick turned away and held his breath as the aroma assaulted him.

Natalie entered and went to stand beside Nick. He stepped aside and, smiling, pointed to the foot of the cast. Natalie blushed deeply and smothered a giggle.

"Okay! Okay, you two! I give up! C'mon! What does it say? Read it to me! Please!"

"Detective Schanke!" Nat said, blushing once more. "A genteel lady does not repeat things like this." This time she could not suppress the laughter.

**********

Captain Paul Blaisdell hung up the phone. "Caine!" He shouted into the bullpen. "My office! Now!"

Peter Caine came sheepishly into the office . "Look, Cap, if it's about the missing tapes that were taken in that porno raid, I can explain ... "

"No, it's not about that. I didn't even know any of the tapes were missing, but now that you've mentioned it, I'm all ears. Explain away."

"Me and my big mouth." Peter mumbled. "I needed them for ... evidence ... yeah ... that's it ... ah ... evidence ... in an upcoming case ... "

"That wouldn't be the case concerning the fact that you are supposed to provide the entertainment for Porter's bachelor party, would it? I guess that could be a legitimate enough reason. Just be sure you return them before anyone discovers they're missing." He said with a hint of a smile.

"Right ... Cap." Peter mentally wiped the sweat from his forehead, and swallowed his stomach back to its original position.

"I'm going to be at that party, too. Are you sure these tapes are worth the boiling hot oil you're going to be in when this is over?"

"I think so. According to Vice, they're quadruple X rated."

"We'll see. The real reason I called you in here was to tell you you've been reassigned."

"Reassigned? Where? Why?"

"It appears that our entire night shift is out with food poisoning. Only six uniforms are left standing. Seems they all went to that new restaurant, the Hungry One, for Thompson's retirement party last evening. Over half the shift is in the hospital and the other half is confined to their homes until further notice. According to the Health Department, the place was crawling with Salmonella and they found at least two dozen other health violations as well. They've shut it down until further notice.

That was Commissioner Vetter on the phone. He's reassigning three officers from each of the other shifts and he's calling in the surrounding precincts to cover until this crisis passes. You, Jackson, and Petronelli are the ones from this shift. I've been temporarily put in charge of this clambake."

**********

Nick Knight gave the side of the computer a glancing blow. "Come on, you misbegotten substandard piece of so-called modern technology ... WORK!" He mumbled several phrases in a long forgotten dialect of French. While the language was no longer spoken, the meanings transcended time and vernacular.

The screen blinked several times, went blank, and for the fifteenth time in as many tries, displayed the message:

'Password __________'

"What word or combination of words would that partner of mine use?" He mumbled. He had tried everything he knew about his partner. Don's birthday. His anniversary. Jenny's birthday. Myra's. His mother's name. His father. Their birthdays and their anniversary. Their dog's name. Their dog's birthday. Backwards and forward. Scrambled in every combination possible. Nothing worked. Finally, he threw up his hands in frustration.

"Knight." Captain Amanda Cohen called from the doorway. "Can I see you in my office?" The way she said it, it was anything but a request.

"Look, Captain." Nick said as he closed the door. " I know the Manning report is late, but Schanke has the file that I need on his computer, and he also has it password protected. I've been trying to get in all evening, but I haven't had any luck."

"Have you tried souvlaki?"

"I can't stand the stuff ..." Then his expression brightened. "OH! you mean as a password? It was one of the first ones I tried."

"How about his badge number? That's what most officers use."

"Tried that, too. No luck."

"The report can wait. I'll get someone from Crypto up here to work on Schanke's computer. That's their job. I called you in here to tell you that you've been loaned out to the 101st precinct for a week or two. It seems their entire night shift came down with a bad case of food poisoning. Commissioner Vetter has requested three from each precinct to cover. You, Adams, and Perignot are the ones from here."

"Why me?"

"Because Schanke is off with a broken leg. You don't have any open cases and, at least for the time being, you don't have a partner. That makes you the odd man out. Adams and Perignot are new here and haven't been assigned partners yet. Report there ASAP."

**********

"Peter, this is your new partner, Nick Knight from the 96th." Captain Blaisdell said as he showed Nick to an empty desk. "Be sure to make him feel welcome."

Peter grumbled something and did not even look up.

"Play nice, kiddies." Blaisdell said as he returned to his office

"Look, Knight." Peter said as soon as the Captain had left. "Nothing personal, but I've heard all about you. They say you're the fair haired boy over at the 96th. They also say you're a loose cannon. I just want to lay out the ground rules right off the bat so there's no misunderstandings. I work alone. Just me. No partners. The only reason we're together is because the Commissioner says so. Just stay out of my way and no grandstanding and we'll get along fine. Got that?"

"I think so. And just to keep the record straight, I'm not all that thrilled to be here either. I've heard the same things about you, too. Wunderkind. Doesn't play by the rules. The reason you don't have a partner is that you run them all off. All that good stuff. The only reason I'm here is because My Partner is laid up with a broken leg. I'll make you a deal. You stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours. You give me a hard row to hoe and I'll be all over you like stink on a skunk. Got that straight?" If Caine wanted attitude, Nick had more than enough to go around.

"Okay, you two, I heard that." Blaisdell called as he walked toward them "Now that this meeting of the Caine-Knight Mutual Admiration Society has been adjourned, let's get down to some police work." He tossed a report on Peter's desk. "This should be right up your alley, Peter. Chinatown. Also give you the chance to familiarize Detective Knight with our territory."

"But, Cap." Peter said as he read the report. "A holdup at a carryout? This should be Robbery's baby, not ours."

"You've forgotten how short we are. Everybody has to do double duty. Vice is working Domestic violence, Fraud is doing street crimes, and we're covering Robbery. Now get on it ... or would you rather be in a uniform handing out parking tickets? That can be arranged, too."

"You're joking ... right, Cap?"

"Am I?"

**********

"Good grief!" Peter exclaimed. "What in heaven's name is that?"

"It's my car." Nick said as he got into the driver's seat of the Caddy. He motioned for Peter to get in.

"In that thing? You've got to be kidding. I'm not about to go into Chinatown in that." He said shaking his head. "Not only wouldn't this lake freighter navigate the narrow streets, You'd be begging to find it stripped down and on blocks within a half hour after we got out of it. No thanks. We'll use my car. He pointed to a dark blue Cavalier sedan parked by the precinct exit

**********

Peter pulled up in front of an apothecary shop.

"This isn't the address on the crime report." Nick said.

"I know. I can read. I have to see someone here." He got out and started toward the door. "You might as well come in, too." He said almost as an afterthought.

Nick climbed the rickety stairs to the second floor. Peter knocked gently on the door. Nick's eyes nearly popped out of his head as he stared at the man who opened it.

**********

Three Rocks California, March 1901

Slowly, the darkness subsided and Nicholas became aware that he was inside a building. He was laying on a thin but comfortable cot in a sparsely furnished room. There was only a small table with an oil lamp and a simple chest. A rough hewn chair sat beside the bed. A hand braided rag rug covered the floor. A single small window, covered with a heavy cloth, was on the opposite wall, and a heavy wooden door graced another one. The fourth wall was blank. There were no pictures or other ornamentation.

The last thing he could clearly recall was falling, weak and exhausted, from his horse sometime in the pre dawn hours.

He had managed once again to slip LaCroix's iron grip. LaCroix had convinced him that his love, the ballerina Sylvaine, was no more than a common whore. Nicholas, in a fit of rage, had killed her. In taking her blood, he discovered that LaCroix had lied. She really did love him and the men that LaCroix had accused her of seducing were talent agents negotiating for her next performance. He fled San Francisco into the desert that same night and made the decision to swear off human blood entirely.

How long he had been wandering, he had no recollection. In desperation, he had chased down and drained a few jackrabbits several days earlier, but that was the last time he had fed. Soon after, he was too weak to even do that. Perhaps everything was for the best. He had reached the point where he could not continue. He didn't care. By morning, the sun would do the rest.

Why then, was he here? And where was here?

"Good evening." A voice said to him.

Slowly his eyes began to focus clearly. The man before him was a tall, middle aged Oriental. He had a broad open face and dark, starting-to-gray hair. He had an aura about him that evoked gentleness and trust. Underneath that though, Nicholas could sense tremendous power and strength. He could hear the man's heartbeat and smell the blood cursing through his veins. The vampire, though, did not emerge. He had passed that point several days ago.

"You are awake." The man said. "That is good. Here." He held out a cup. Nicholas could tell it held blood. He turned his head toward the wall.

"You know what I am?" He asked, his voice was rough and he could tell that his fangs had partially descended.

"Do YOU know what you are?" Was the man's answer.

"I am a vampire. I could kill you where you stand."

"If you had wanted to kill me, you would have done so when I first encountered you."

"I am a vampire." Nick repeated. "An evil creature of the night."

"That is WHAT you are ..." Again he held the cup to Nicholas. "Not what YOU are."

"I do not drink human blood."

"It is not human. It is from one of our cows. Drink."

"I am NOT a carouche." Nicholas said angrily.

"I am not familiar with that term. I only know you are nearly starved. This ... " He once more gently pushed the cup to Nicholas. " ... Will build your strength. When I found you at the edge of my property, you were delirious and near to death."

This time, the need overwhelmed him and he gulped hungrily from the cup. Although it was bland and flat compared to human, the blood did satisfy his hunger. He held it out for a refill, which the man did several times.

"Why did you bring me here?" Nicholas asked. "Since you knew what I am, you should have left me in the desert to die."

"It would have been a waste of life."

"I am not alive."

"But you are not dead either."

"Who are you?"

"I am Caine. " The man said, cupping his hands to his chest and bowing slightly. "I will help you ... And you will help me."

"Why should I help you?"

"Perhaps ... because I need someone to help me."

"Do what? I can't milk cows or plow a field."

"Neither can I. My son, Matthew, however, seeks to gain knowledge and wisdom ... as do you."

"What makes you think that?"

"I know. The same way I know that you regret what you have become and that you wish to change."

"And just where will I gain this so-called knowledge and wisdom?"

"At my temple."

"You have a temple?"

"Not yet." He said with a gentle smile.

**********

Toronto, Present

Nick was keenly aware that Caine was staring back at him as intently as he was staring at him. He continued to hold his gaze as he entered the tiny apartment.

"You two know each other?" Peter asked.

"We have never met." Caine replied. "But we are acquainted."

Peter mulled the puzzling statement over a few moments, and then shook his head to clear it. "Whatever." He finally said. "Anyway, Pop, the reason I came over here is to tell you that I won't be able to keep our dinner date. I've been temporarily transferred to the night shift. Seems they all came down with a case of food poisoning. We ... this is my temporary partner, Nick Knight ... " There was heavy emphasis on the word 'temporary'. "... are on our way to a crime scene.

"Thank you, Peter. I appreciate the kindness. We shall go some other night then. I thought we might try that new restaurant. What is it called? The Hungry One."

"I don't think so, Pop. That's where the night shift got their food poisoning at."

"I am sorry to hear that. I will not eat there if what you say is true."

"You know, Pop, if you would just get a phone, it would be a lot easier to get in touch with you when I need to."

"I do not need a telephone. Those who need to find me know where to look." Caine said. Then he turned to Nick. "We must talk." He said in a tone so low that only Nick would be able to pick up on it.

"Oh, and Peter." He patted him gently on the cheek. "Don't call me Pop."

"What was that all about?" Peter said as they returned to the car.

"I thought I recognized your father, but I think I may have mixed him with someone else." Nick replied.

"That's not easy to do. My Pop's a real one of a kind."

"I know."

**********

They pulled in front of the carryout. There were several police cars present, but Nick stared, perplexed, at the Coroner's van parked in front of the door.

Inside, he spotted Natalie Lambert and several technicians coming from the back room.

"Since when do Coroners answer robbery calls?" He asked.

"Since there is a dead body. Where there are dead bodies, there also is the Coroner." She replied with a hint of a smile. "Doctor Elder was also at the Hungry One last night and so I'm picking up the slack for him."

"But there was no mention of a body in the crime report."

"This has nothing to do with the robbery. In fact, the cashier found him in the cellar when he went to check there before locking up. He smelled something rotten, and when he moved some of the crates ... " She pointed to the body bag that the technicians bringing up the stairs. "The victim has been identified from the contents of his wallet as Charles Blander, the store manager. Male, Caucasian, 45 years old. He's been dead at least 24 to 36 hours that I can tell. I'll know more after the autopsy."

"Natural causes?" Peter asked.

"Not unless being shot in the back of the head at point blank range is a natural cause."

"Gangland killing?" Peter inquired.

Natalie shook her head. "More like a professional hit. Gangs usually shoot up everything in sight. This was neat and relatively clean."

"Why weren't we notified of this?" Nick asked, slightly irked.

"We tried, but 81-Kilo wasn't responding."

Nick glared at Peter.

"That's because we were in 27-Rome." Peter said sheepishly.

The cashier, Harry Foy, was a frightened college student who only worked in the store part time. When the robbery took place, he had pressed the silent alarm under the counter that had summoned the uniformed patrol. The store security cameras had captured the entire incident and Forensics had taken the tapes for evaluation.

"I thought the robbery was terrifying enough." He told Peter and Nick. "But when I found Mr. Blander's body, that's when I really lost it. The police had told me to go home after the robbery, and I only went into the cellar to double check the doors. We don't normally do that, but I went down there just to be on the safe side."

"Didn't it seem funny that Mr. Blander hasn't been around for a couple of days?" Peter asked.

"No. Not really. He was supposed to be on vacation in the Bahamas and wasn't due back until next Friday. He's single and nobody knows if he has any family, so no one would have necessarily have missed him."

"Do you know if he had any enemies?"

"Not Charlie Blander. He was a very kind and gentle person. A lot of the people really liked him. The store chain is a different thing altogether. There are some in the community who wanted them to put a Oriental as manager. The regional office says that's up to the headquarters. Headquarters won't even talk to them. They've been very vocal about their demands, but I doubt if any of them would kill for it."

"Well, where do we go from here?" Nick asked as they returned to the car. "We've got a list of the people who have been protesting the loudest from Harry Foy. Why don't we talk to a few of them?"

"If it's a professional job, like your coroner thinks it is." Again, there was a heavy stress on 'your'. "The person to see is Bon Bun Hao. There isn't much that takes place in Chinatown that he doesn't know about, or have at least one finger in. Particularly if it isn't exactly squeaky clean"

"Then by all means, let's go talk to Bon Bun Hao."

"You don't just go to Bon Bun Hao. Bon Bun Hao comes to you. Or rather, he sends a few of his henchmen to bring you to him." Peter said cockily.

"And just how do we let him know that we want to see him?" Nick was getting a little irritated at Peter's attitude.

"I'll handle that. I know my way around this area." He pulled the car to the curb and got out. Nick started to follow, but Peter motioned for him to stay in the car. He approached what appeared to be a panhandler and said something to him. Although to a mortal, Peter spoke too softly to be heard, Nick could clearly make out all he said. To further confuse anyone, Peter spoke in Chinese. All he told the alleged beggar was that he wanted to see Bon Bun Hao.

"Now what do we do?" Nick asked as Peter returned to the car.

"We wait."

**********

There was a distinct buzzing, like a fly or a mosquito. It stopped and a few seconds later, it started again. Somewhere in the great distance, he heard a voice. It sounded familiar. "This is Nick Knight. I'm either asleep or incommunicado. Either way, leave a message and I'll get back to you." It was his answering machine.

"This is Peter Caine. Your ... Partner. I just heard from Bon Bun Hao. Meet me at the apothecary shop in a half hour."

He forced himself to wakefulness in time to hear the dial tone. Thank goodness for caller ID. He dialed the number and a few moments later, Peter answered.

"I can't possibly meet you now. It's daylight."

"And what does that have to do with the motion of the cosmos?" Peter snapped.

"I have a severe sun allergy. Even brief exposure could be harmful or even fatal to me."

"Then I'll just have to go alone, won't I? Bon Bun Hao doesn't like to be kept waiting. I'll tell you about it tonight."

Nick heard a click and then the dial tone once again.

**********

"Yes ... I see ... Well, thank you ... No ... Keep looking and if you turn up anything, let me know." Nick hung up the phone and looked up to see Peter standing over him.

"And what was that all about?" He asked.

"I thought I'd check some of my ... sources ... and see what I could come up with." Nick answered.

"You should check with me before you go running off on some kind of tangent. We're supposed to be working together, you know."

"Speaking of together, what did Bon Bun Hao have to say?"

"He didn't know anything about the killing. Maybe we should head over to the Coroner's building and see what they have to say."

Just then, Natalie came into the bullpen.

"Speak of the devil ... If it isn't our lovely M.E. herself. Dr. Elder never hand delivered the reports to me." Peter looked between Nick and Nat. "Then again, WE didn't have a ... thing going. I had heard that you two were an item. "

"We are NOT an item." They both said practically in unison.

"Of course you aren't. If that's the way you want it." Peter said with a huge grin as he took the folder from Natalie. They could deny it all they wanted, but there was no mistaking the look that passed between them. They were DEFINITELY an item.

"For the record ... " Nat said. " ... And in everyday language." She looked squarely at Peter. "Charles Blander was shot once with a handgun, caliber unknown. However it appears to be a large caliber. Possibly a .45 or larger. I'm basing that on the size of the entrance wound. The bullet entered at the base of the right occipital lobe. Definitely at close range. There were powder burns everywhere around the entrance. From the trajectory of the wound through the brain, it probably exited somewhere around left maxilla. That's the jawbone." Again, she looked straight at Peter. "My best guess is somewhere in the vicinity of the first molar. It took the entire lower left side of the face with it, and didn't leave much of the right side either. I've sent what's left of the dental records and the fingerprints to Municipal for ID verification."

"You think our victim might not be Charles Blander?" Peter asked.

Natalie shook her head. "Since there does not appear to be any known relatives to claim the body, this is a standard procedure. A mere formality."

So what do we do now?" Peter queried.

"So now we interview the protesters." Nick said.

"Now ... I ... interview the protesters. Remember. I know these people a lot better than you do. They probably would be suspicious of an outsider." Peter corrected.

"We're partners, remember." Nick emphasized.

**********

They left the Wing house. Toi Han Wing, the same as the other members of the Chinese Association that they, or rather Peter, had talked to, knew nothing of any murder attempt against Charles Blander. While it was true, they did not appreciate him as a manager of the carryout, none of them had any ill feelings against him personally. In fact, to a person, they liked, and even admired him. They were all shocked that someone would even want to hurt the man, let alone murder him.

The entire investigation so far had been conducted in Chinese. Peter said that it was because they understood that much better than English and their answers were likely to be more accurate than if they used English. Nick suspected that it was because Peter did not want him to be an integral part of the examination.

"The next member is Dr. Li Hwan Chung." Peter said. "He lives in the back of his office."

Nick stiffened slightly at the name. He had encountered the acupuncturist about a year ago in connection with the shooting of a key witness in a smuggling case. The incident was not a pleasant one. Dr. Chung had tried to kill Nick because he mistakenly believed that Nick had murdered his mother many years earlier.

The door opened slowly and Dr. Chung cautiously peered out.

"(Dr. Chung. I am Peter Caine. Son of Kwai Chang Caine. May we talk with you?)" Peter asked in Chinese.

"(Of course. It is always a pleasure to see the son of an old friend)" Chung answered. Then he noticed Nick behind Peter. "(And it is a pleasure to see you as well, Detective Knight.)" He showed the pair into his small quarters.

"(The pleasure is all mine.)" Nick answered, cupping his hands to his chest and bowing slightly. He noted with some small satisfaction that Peter's jaw was scraping the floor.

"Why didn't you tell me you spoke fluent Chinese?" Peter said in a stage whisper.

"You didn't ask." Nick nonchalantly replied.

"And how do you know Dr. Chung?"

"I've known Li Hwan Chung since he … since I was a small boy." Nick lied. It was easier than trying to explain that the seventy-something year old doctor was only eight when his mother was murdered.

"For many years, I disliked Knight intensely. I thought he had wronged me." Chung explained. "Only lately I found that another had done what I accused him of doing. We have made our peace ... of sorts."

"At least we aren't at each other's throats." Nick said. Only he saw that Chung had caught the irony of the statement.

"Perhaps, but there is still much to resolve." Chung returned. "I would like it if we could meet and try to work out the differences."

"I would like that as well." Nick said once again bowing to the elderly acupuncturist.

"Well, if you two are finished, maybe we could get to why we are here to begin with." Peter said with more than a slight trace of irritation.

Unfortunately, Li Hwan Chung knew no more than any of the others did. He also expressed surprise and dismay that the store manager had been killed in such a manner.

**********

Peter motioned for Nick to get in the car

"You go on ahead. It's near the end of the shift and I have something I have to do before I go home."

"What's that?"

"Something personal."

"And what do I tell the Captain?" Peter asked. He was answered by a slight rush of air. When he looked around, Nick was nowhere to be seen. "And I thought Pop was the only one who could do that." He mused.

**********

The door opened even before Nick knocked.

"Come in." Caine said. "I have been expecting you."

"You know what I am." Nick said. It was not a question.

"Do YOU know what you are?" Caine asked.

There was only stunned silence as Nick heard Kwai Chang Caine's question echo through the years. In disbelief, he watched as the features of the Caines from two distinct generations seemed to blur together before his eyes.

"I have read my grandfather's journals many times." Caine continued. "He has written extensively of a strange and troubled man by the name of Nicholas. From what I sensed yesterday, I have no other assumption to make than you are that man."

"It could have been my grandfather that he was writing about." Nick tried to throw him off.

"And it could not have been your grandfather."

"Do you know what this knowledge could mean for you and those around you?"

"Only that in the wrong hands it could pose a significant danger. But that is not my concern at this time. You are."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You still seek to find your true self." He cupped his hands into his chest the way his grandfather had done so many years before and bowed slightly. "I am Caine. I will help you."

"You share a link with your grandfather in addition to the journal." Nick said. "I could sense that about you the same way you could sense me. Maybe you really can help me."

"I would like to try." Caine said. "But at another time. It is nearly sunrise. You had best leave." He went to the door and bowed as the detective left.

**********

He could sense him as he pulled into the garage. Lucien LaCroix was waiting for him in his loft. He was not a happy vampire. Nick searched his recent memory. He had done nothing that could have angered his creator, so why were waves of hostility flooding the bond between them.

"You are playing with fire, Nicholas." LaCroix warned him as he entered.

"And you are not welcome in my home. Please leave." He sneered without looking at him.

"I only came to warn you of the danger"

"And what danger would that be? Are there vampires involved in this case? Even if there were, what concern is that of yours?"

"There is no vampire other than yourself involved. A father must always be protective of his son. Even when that son doesn't want to be protected. A word of warning. Always remember WHAT you are, Nicholas. Remember that I created you. You are mine ... and you always will be." With that cryptic statement, LaCroix was gone."

**********

Peter Caine frowned as he read the report. He closed it and started toward the Captain's office. Nick followed.

"Are you going to tell me what's in the report before we go in, or am I going to have to wing it?" He asked.

Peter did not answer.

"Look ... Partner ... I asked you a question. At least give me the common decency to answer it."

Blaisdell stood in the open doorway. "Okay, you two. I've had enough of your sniping at each other. We're short handed as it is. I've got more than enough headaches without you two acting like a couple of spoiled adolescents. Either you start acting like the adult professionals you are supposed to be, or both of you are going to end up in uniform ... Directing traffic ... On the QEW ... For SIX MONTHS ... AFTER you come off report ... DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Nick nodded. Peter just stared straight ahead.

"I can't HEAR you!"

"Yes, Sir." Nick said.

"Detective Caine?"

"Yeah, Cap." He said barely above a whisper. "I hear you."

"That's 'YES, CAPTAIN BLAISDELL'."

"Yes, Captain Blaisdell."

"Good. Now, get your sorry butts in my office before I change my mind and put you in uniform anyway. Just because I can."

Natalie Lambert was seated in the office. Blaisdell waited until the detectives also seated themselves.

"Well ... is somebody going to tell me what's in that report on Charles Blander, or do I have to third degree the lot of you?"

"Nothing." Natalie said. "It seems that the body I have in the morgue is not Charles Blander."

Both Nick and Blaisdell stared at her with startled expressions. Peter just stared.

"Municipal had nothing on the man, so they turned it over to Provincial, who gave it to RCMP." Natalie continued. "Nothing anywhere. However, it seems that Charlie Blander did serve a hitch in the Navy. Only thing is, the fingerprints that the Ministry of Defense have for their Charles Blander don't match the fingerprints we have for our Charles Blander. Whoever that man is, he isn't Charlie Blander."

"So, now instead of a simple robbery, we have a first class mystery on our hands." Captain Blaisdell said. "1. Who is our mystery man? 2. Why did he have Charles Blander's ID on him. 3. Why was he killed? And finally, where is the real Charles Blander? Find out for me, gentlemen. And I want the answers yesterday. Or maybe the day before. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, Cap."

"Now begins the fun part." Nat said. "I can do a DNA scan. After that, I'll catalog every little abnormality on the body. Every tiny scar, mole, pimple, and internal irregularity. Then I'll disseminate this information to every doctor, hospital and clinic in the area and hope against hope that somebody, somewhere has a record of him."

"And if they don't?" Peter asked.

"Hey, I'm just the doctor. You guys are the detectives. I'll keep going in ever wider circles until something turns up. Provincial, National, and even the States if I have to."

"Harry Foy said that Charlie Blander was going to the Bahamas for a vacation. Put a trace on Charles Blander through Customs." Blaisdell said. "Maybe if we can find him, he might be able to shed some light on this paradox."

"I'll get right on it." Peter volunteered.

"And what am I supposed to do?" Nick asked.

"You ... search the missing persons reports looking for our mystery man." Was Peter's reply.

"Wonderful. Wonderful." Nick said, deadpan.

**********

"Well, I see you two are getting along as fabulously as ever." Natalie remarked as Nick walked her to her car.

Nick sighed heavily and shook his head slowly. "I guess we're too much alike. Both loners. It might only be for a few more days, though. Already some of the night shift people are back to work. Then Mr. High-And-Mighty Peter Caine can have this case all to himself. With my blessing!"

"Maybe we can talk about this some more tonight. Our movie date is still on, isn't it?"

"Oh! No! I forgot. I made an appointment to talk with Peter's father. There's something about that man. I can't put my finger on it, but he knows more about me than he should ... or than he's telling me. He says he can help me. You do understand, don't you? I've got to find out if he can. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"I guess so. I know you. When you get a bug up your tail, you've got to see it through. Want me to come too? After all, we're in this thing together."

"Not just yet. Let me see what I can find out first." He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later." She said as she got into her car. She was glad it was dark so Nick could not see her blushing so deeply.

Nick saw the blush and smiled.

**********

Three Rocks, July 1901

Nick stood up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Even though the sun had set, the residual heat from the desert floor was still high. He was not as affected by the heat as the others. If he felt it to this degree, he could imagine how they felt. In an hour or two, though, it would dissipate and the cool evening air would be much more tolerable for the mortals working on the temple.

Although it was just a few months since the project began, the buildings were already beginning to take recognizable shape. The main temple was starting to rise and several of the outbuildings were nearly finished. Although the workforce was meager, mostly Chinese and other Orientals, and a small number of blacks, they worked hard and diligently, and had accomplished a nearly impossible task in a very short time. There were only a few Caucasians there besides Nick. Although Kwai Chang Caine was respected in the town, most of the whites "Would rather swallow a live rattlesnake than work for a Chinaman." as one of them had commented when he was offered work.

He picked up the trowel and spread a layer of mortar on the wall before him and wrestled a block of stone into place. He flexed his arms to relieve the ache. After centuries of relative disuse, his muscles were rebelling from the hard physical exertion. He knew that following a day's rest, all the soreness would be gone. For now, though, it felt right. It felt good. It was the pain of honest labor.

"You are making great progress, Nicholas." Caine said.

Nick jumped at the voice. It unnerved him every time Caine did that. He had not felt or sensed the Shaolin priest approaching. He rarely did. "Thank you, Master Caine." Nick said, bowing slightly. "It isn't often I get to build something. I must admit, my bricklaying skills have been getting better."

"That was not what I was referring to. You have made great progress toward your goal, but you still have much yet to learn. You are like a fire."

"A what?" Nick asked, bewildered by the remark.

"Consider. The forest fire destroys the forest, but it also clears the way for new growth. Without the fire, the forest would become choked on itself and eventually die out."

"How is that like my kind?"

"Not your kind ... You. For the past few centuries, you have concentrated your efforts on eliminating the diseased and the undesirables that clogs humanity. By doing this, you have made room for new growth in mankind."

"I have killed. There is no justification for that."

"A fire that burns uncontrolled does nothing but destroy. Carefully controlled, however it has a tremendous ability to bring life and goodness. Consider the fire in the hearth. It warms the house and brings light and nourishment to the family. That is what you must learn. To control you inner drives. To be a force for good."

"I can not change. I am darkness and evil"

"You have done what you must do to live."

"Can you call what I am ... living?"

"And what ... are YOU, Nicholas?"

"I am a vampire."

**********

Toronto

Caine motioned for Nick to seat himself at the plain table in the kitchen. "I have been reading my grandfather's journals and I think I can help you with your quest."

"Does that mean you have found a cure?"

"No. I do not know of a cure for vampirism. That does not mean that no cure exists, only that I do not know of one."

"If there is no cure, what's the point?"

"The point is ... To enable you to live comfortably with what you are."

"I do not want to live with what I am."

"There is good and evil in every situation. Ying and Yang. Your creator focused on the evil side of vampirism. You must focus on the good side. You had made the start when you were with my grandfather. Now you must continue that hunt." He pointed to the cup sitting in front of Nick. "Shall we have some refreshment?"

Nick took the cup. It did not hold blood, but some kind of a tea. "If you know what I am, then you know I can not drink this." He said.

"It is an ancient blend of rare herbs and spices." Caine stared deeply into Nicks' eyes. For just a half an instant, Nick felt that he was peering into his soul, if he had a soul, that is. "You will find that you can drink it and not have any ill effects."

Nick took a hesitant sip. To his surprise and delight, it was fruity and slightly bittersweet. He took another sip. He waited a few minutes. There was no nausea and no gagging. He began to gulp it.

"No, No. Drink slowly. Enjoy." Caine encouraged him.

"This is really good!" Nick exclaimed. "It's the first taste of real food I've had in almost eight hundred years ... Except for Natalie's ... I mean Doctor Lambert's ... protein shakes. And even those gag and nauseate me. I must have the recipe for this!"

"In due time, my friend. In due time." Caine said with a hint of a smile.

"When can we begin working on my problem?"

"We just did."

**********

Nick caught sight of Peter pulling into his customary parking space and he got out of his car. He would have it out with the arrogant detective... Now ... Before this one sided feud went any further. At almost the same time he saw an almost imperceptible glint from the rooftop beside the precinct house. With his heightened senses, he heard the barely audible sound of the lever of a rifle being cocked. Faster than the eye could see, he was at Peter's side as he opened his door. At the same instant, a volley of shots rang out. With all his might, he pushed Peter to the ground and felt the hot burning stings as two bullets struck his side and the momentary pain as they exited through his back. He heard several more bullets ricochet off the hood of Peter's car.

Quickly, he checked Peter. He had hit his head when he contacted the ground. He was bleeding from a good sized cut on his forehead and was slightly disoriented, but there did not appear to be any other injuries. He quickly pushed the vampire down. . No time for that now. He looked around and saw that the door to the precinct was open and policemen were running out. He looked up. He could make out the sound of footsteps running toward the opposite side of the roof. No time to catch whoever it was. Not with half the precinct watching.

He helped Peter to his feet.

"You saved my life." Peter said groggily.

"That's what partners are supposed to do." Nick replied, brushing his jacket. There was a small amount of blood on his shirt where the bullets had entered his body, and he assumed there was an even larger amount where they had exited. He buttoned his coat to cover the evidence.

"Yeah. I guess it is." Peter said thoughtfully. "Thanks ... Partner." He held out his hand and Nick shook it.

**********

Peter winced as the medics placed a large adhesive pad over the gash on his head. They had thoroughly checked him and Nick and found that they were both relatively uninjured. Nick had explained the blood on his shirt as being Peter's. A slight 'suggestion', and the EMT had accepted that.

"You two must be the luckiest cops in the city." Paul Blaisdell said as he escorted the two back into the station. "After you've filled out the reports on this, why don't you both book the night off and use the time to recover?"

"I don't like being shot at." Nick said. "I'd rather spend the time looking for the person who did this."

"I don't like it either. I'm with him." Peter agreed.

"I can't argue with that." Blaisdell said.

"I can." A man behind his said, holding out a badge case. Behind him was another man. "Sergeant Preston, RCMP. And I've heard all the remarks, thank you. My partner is Constable Kelley. Can we talk in your office?"

He handed Captain Blaisdell two papers. "This is a Magistrate's order mandating that you turn over to us all your notes and evidence in the death of Charles Blander." He said curtly. "This one a Crown Court injunction preventing you from further investigation into the matter. As of right now, this case is under the jurisdiction of the RCMP. If anyone attempts to interfere, they will be liable to imprisonment on charges of contempt of court. Do you understand?"

"They're in order, all right. Signed sealed and delivered. All legal and proper." Blaisdell said. His face was a mix of frustration and depression. "Give him what he wants, gentlemen. Officially, we are no longer involved in all of this."

Sergeant Preston stood over Nick's shoulder as he downloaded his computer files to a disk and then deleted them. He placed the disk into a folder with all of the paperwork and his personal notes and handed it to the Sergeant. Kelley was doing the same with Peter.

"I don't like this one bit." Peter said as the two Mounties left. "What would the RCMP be doing in a simple murder case? And I'll bet a month's pay that whoever tried to ventilate us has something to do with this, too. Something about all of this smells to high heaven."

"I won't bet against you, but what can we do?" Nick replied. "If we go nosing, we could end up in jail. You heard the Captain. Officially, we're off the case." He paused a moment and his face suddenly livened. "How much vacation time you got coming?" He said excitedly.

Peter thought for a few seconds. "I think I know where you're going." He said as he walked to the filing cabinet and took out two Leave Requests. "After all, the Captain did say we could have some time off to recover from tonight." He handed one of the forms to Nick. "I like the way you think." He said with a huge smile.

**********

"I know." Natalie said. "I just had a visit from the good Sergeant and his faithful companion. They took all my notes as well. They even had a team of technicians remove the body, too."

"Now what?"

"Every night I back up my files." Nat said. "I just finished when they came in. I didn't have a chance to put this disk with the others, so I put it in a safe place. It won't be complete, but it will give us a place to start."

"Not us. This is just between Peter and I." Nick said. "It's much too dangerous. I don't want you involved. Just give me the disk. That will be more than enough."

"If you don't get me ... You don't get the disk ... Not negotiable ... Take it or leave it, gentlemen." Nat said with a determined look.

Peter looked at Nick. Nick sighed loudly. "You know this is blackmail."

Natalie smiled. "I prefer to use the term creative coercion. Do we have a deal? Yes or no?"

"Deal." Nick said with a heavy sigh.

"Good. Now, turn around. Both of you"

When they had done so, she reached into the top of her scrubs and retrieved the disk from her bra. She coughed loudly twice. "I believe I'm coming down with something serious. I think I'll have to book off for the next week or two."

"Not a good idea." Nick said. "It would look very suspicious of the three of us took off at the same time. Besides, you can be our pipeline. You know, keep us informed of any new developments."

"I guess you're right."

"Now we need a place to work." Peter said.

"How about my loft? I have everything we need. A state of the art computer, scanner, printer, and a secure dedicated phone line."

"Great. The loft it is."

"Now if only we had the stuff from our computers."

"No problem." Peter said with a grin. "I know just the person to get them. If he can't do it, nobody can."

*********

Kermit Griffin looked up as Peter and Nick entered his cramped quarters. Unfortunately, Computer Crimes Division offices were being redone and the staff was being quartered wherever there happened to be room. This particular 'office' normally functioned as a supply closet. Boxes and files shared the finite space with the sole occupant. The computer expert moved a large stack of folders from the only available chair to the floor and motioned for Peter to sit. He pointed to an overturned plastic milk crate for Nick. "Sorry about the accommodations. The maintenance people won't be finished upstairs until sometime next week. It's a good thing I'm not claustrophobic. What can I do for Toronto's finest?"

"I'm having a ... problem ... with my computer." Peter began. "I keep ... losing data from it. Do you think you could take a look at it?"

Kermit nodded. "I heard about that ... problem. I'll have a look at it as soon as I can. I get off shift in an hour. Will that be soon enough?"

**********

Kermit stared open mouthed at the loft. "Geez this is big." He gasped. "I could put my whole condo into just that one corner. Is that a '57 Harley over there?"

Nick nodded.

Kermit sat at the computer and began downloading the disks he had recovered from Peter's and Nick's computers as well as Natalie's disk.

"Now what you need is an encryption expert. Just in case the big boys discover this little clandestine operation. I know a few that might fill the bill. There's Arnie Sherrod ... but he's in California. Pavel Blatovich from the Russian Embassy could do it. He owes me one, too. Set up a back door Internet link to his parents in Sarajevo last year. Su Lungwoo, but he works for the Peoples Republic of China, and Sir Geoffrey Tatem from the UK. He's with Q. The only one nearby is Larry Merlin. He's ... "

" ... A friend of mine." Nick finished.

"You know Larry Merlin? How?"

"We ... play chess sometimes." It wasn't a lie. Nick and Larry had been playing for centuries. Larry almost always won.

"You play chess? So do I. I'm a fifth degree master."

"Second."

"And you didn't turn pro?"

"It's just a hobby."

**********

Nick pulled into the Raven's parking lot and got out. Peter started after him.

"I think you had better stay out here." Nick said. "This isn't somewhere you would want to be."

"I've been in all kinds of places. Biker bars, Bondo worlds, and a few places that would straighten your hair. I think I can handle anything that comes up. Besides, we're partners, aren't' we?"

"Just don't say I didn't warn you."

He followed Nick into the dimly lit club. The loud music reverberated into his brain and the tightly packed crowd nearly smothered him. As he squeezed through the area, he bumped into one of the patrons. "I'm sorry. I ... " The apology stuck in his throat as he looked into yellow eyes. Set in a huge ruddy face. With a ring through the nose. Topped with a florescent purple and green spiked mohawk. Sitting on a 6 foot 8 inch, 350 pound frame. Dressed in biker leathers. The man growled something at him through what appeared to be pointed teeth.

"I think maybe I will wait outside." He said meekly to Nick.

Janette Du Charme was at her usual place at the bar "Welcome, Nicholah." She said, reaching over and lightly kissing his cheek. "I need you." She whispered into his ear.

"I can't. Not now."

"Oh, Nicholah, not ... that kind of need.  But I could be persuaded." She laughed and ran her tongue over her lips. "I am starting a wet T-shirt contest on Thursday nights and I need you to be a judge."

"Wet T-shirt contest? That doesn't sound like your style."

"It isn't. One of the band members, a young Spaniard, suggested it. It seems to be a very popular pastime among your precious mortals, so I thought I'd give it a try."

"Sorry. I have other plans for my Thursdays."

"Oh yes, I remember. You'd rather spend them with your mortal plaything than with me." She pouted. "You're no fun anymore, Nicholah. So, why are you here, then?"

"I need to see Larry Merlin. Is he in town?"

"He is. Is it time to move on already, or are they investigating your past again?"

"Neither, it's a personal matter."

"You know that's going to cost you dearly."

"I know."

She left the bar and returned a few moments later with a green bottle with a red ribbon around the neck.

"You know I don't drink that anymore."

"Not for you, Cherie, it's for Larry. It may help soften the blow. It's from LaCroix's private stock. If he asks, I'll say it went for a good cause." She kissed him gently again and handed him a slip of paper. "That's where Larry is staying. Now go do your mortal thing before I find a way to distract you." She ran her finger lightly down the path of his jugular vein. "And you know I can."

"Thanks. I owe you. Big time."

"And I shall derive great pleasure from thinking of ways for you to repay me, Mon Amor."

**********

LaCroix descended from the skylight almost as soon as Larry Merlin left. The bottle of private stock had done its job and the price of his services was something that Nick could easily afford. Larry had installed an encryption program that would disguise the data. To the uninitiated, the program behaved like a medieval role playing game.

"It is bad enough that you insist on entangling yourself with these mortals. I do not appreciate your bringing ... our people ... into your little charade. You are endangering all of us, and I want it stopped right now." LaCroix said haughtily. It was not a request.

"I don't care what you want." Nick replied flatly. "I don't take orders from you anymore."

"Apparently you do not take orders from your mortal superiors either. You were told to abandon this case, were you not?"

"Leave."

"Or what?" In a flash, He had crossed the room and lifted Nick into the air by his neck.

"Just go." Nick hissed. His eyes began to turn and his fangs started to descend.

"Do you really think that is going to intimidate me?" LaCroix's eyes were also yellow. He smiled wickedly, revealing his own fangs. "Remember what I said earlier, Nicholas. You belong to me. I do not share." He threw Nick to the floor. With a whoosh of air, he was gone.

**********

" ... And so, Caine, how did you do that with the tea. I tried it with some chamomile. It tasted almost like what you gave me, but I threw it up almost as soon as I drank it."

"I told you, you will know all in good time. This time, I want you to explore your hidden mind."

"What?"

"The part of you that you keep hidden. Even from yourself."

"I guarantee you, you do not want to know what's in there. That's why I keep it blocked."

"Then you admit that you have such a place."

**********

Three Rocks, September 1901

Nicholas and Caine faced each other. They were sitting cross legged in the lotus position on the bare floor of his room. The only light came from a single candle placed between them.

"Concentrate on the light, Nicholas." Caine said softly. "Put all thoughts out of your mind except the light."

"You are wasting your time, Master Caine." Nicholas said, shaking his head.

"This is not the first time we have tried this approach. Each time you have resisted. Do not resist any longer. Let yourself find the true you."

"Hypnosis will not work with me. Vampires cannot be hypnotized."

"Everyone has a secret place. Find yours. It is a time and place where you were safe ... And secure ... And happy. Find that place, Nicholas."

"That place no longer exists."

"It exists within your mind. Concentrate on that place. Let yourself go there. Find the you that was there at that time. Become on with that Nicholas. Feel safe and secure and happy once again."

**********

Brabant France, 1214

The summer sun shown down on the garden. The heady scent of a multitude of flowers planted there filled every breath that the young squire took. He had just finished his first year in the service of his uncle, Raymond De Labarre and was home on a three week leave. He leaned against the back of the concrete bench and closed his eyes. The combination of scents and warmth was making him drowsy.

"Nicholas!" Four year old Fleur de Brabant called to her big brother. "Guess what I learned while you were away! I can read. Do you want me to read to you?" She climbed on his lap and pulled large book from the pouch she was carrying.

"Not now, Ma petit d'ennui (My little pest.)." He said, tossing her blond curls. "Perhaps later, just before you retire for the night, I may let you read me a bedtime tale."

"I am not a nuisance." Fleur said indignantly. "Papa calls me a treasure and Mama agrees with him." With that, she climbed down and ran off down the path toward the main house.

"And so do I." He whispered softly to the diminishing figure of his sister. She had grown so much in the time he had been gone. He sighed inwardly that he was not there to witness it.

Catherine de Brabant came up behind him. "Nicholas, why must you tease your little sister like that?" She asked.

"Because I can, Maman." He said, smiling and kissing his mother on the cheek.

"Come in the house. It is almost dinnertime. Your father will be arriving any minute from his travels to the coast, and Chef has prepared a sumptuous feast to welcome both of you home."

"Maman." Nicholas asked. "Do I have to return to Uncle Raymond? Life is very hard there and I am not happy like I am here."

"You can talk to your father tonight, but I do not think it will do much good. You are fifteen, after all. It is time you took your rightful place in the adult world."

"But I do not want to be an adult. I want to stay here and wander in the gardens and tease Fleur and watch her grow up. All too soon, my leave will be over and this moment will cease to exist. So will these feelings that go with it."

"Nicholas, my boy." She said, placing her arm around her son's waist and holding tightly to him. "This place and this time will always be with you. You can come here anytime you want to, no matter where you are. All you have to do is concentrate and it will exist once more."

**********

Three Rocks, 1901

"I have found it. I found the place." Nicholas said. "But how did you do it. I cannot be hypnotized."

"I did nothing. You did it on your own. That is what I have been trying to teach you. You do not need outside help. You can return to the garden anytime you feel the need for a little peace and quiet."

**********

Toronto

"I had forgotten all about that. I remember your grandfather helping me to probe for that secret place those many years ago." Nick said.

"And this secret place within you ... Is it good or evil?"

"Good. Definitely good."

"And so are you." Caine said. "If you were not inherently good, then the secret place would not be so beautiful." He held out a cup. "Have some tea."

"Is that your secret blend?"

"It is what you think it is." Caine stated enigmatically.

**********

"This is Linda." Nicholas said as he escorted a tall blond woman into his loft.

"She's a friend of mine who works in Customs." Nick replied. "She owes me a favor." He noted Natalie's disapproving look. "She has worked with Aristotle on several occasions." Natalie softened considerably. "I had contacted her before our visit from ... Dudley Do-Right and Friend. I thought it would be better if she came in person instead of talking over the phone. In case there were any ... unwanted static on the line."

"According to the best information I can find." Linda said. "No one named Charles Blander has left Canada in the past year. The last time anyone by that name was issued a passport was over seven years ago."

"And, get this ..." Nick added. "The passport photo of that Charles Blander is not the same as the ID photo from the Navy. Although there is some resemblance, it doesn't match the picture on Blander's driver's license, either."

"You mean we have three Charlie Blanders running around?" Peter exclaimed.

"Well, one of them isn't exactly running around, but we have at least three."

"This case is getting more twists and turns than a corkscrew."

"Maybe not." Natalie declared. "Let me see that photo again."

Linda handed her the photo.

"Can you enlarge it?" She asked Nick.

Nick placed the photo on his scanner and typed in a few commands. Within seconds, the face filled the screen.

"Can you zoom in on that area there?" She pointed to a portion of the forehead above the right eye.

Nick pointed the mouse to the area and clicked and a closeup of the man's forehead followed.

"I thought that scar looked familiar." She said. She took a pack of papers from a folder and leafed through them. "This is a printout of my autopsy findings from the backup disk." She explained. "Yes. Here it is. 'Victim has a five centimeter scar above the right eyebrow three and a half centimeters right of the facial hemisphere and two and a quarter centimeters from the hairline'." She read. " 'Scar runs at a twenty seven degree axis from vertical parallel.' I'll bet a loonie that the man in the passport photo is the Charlie Blander that we found at the carryout."

"At least that is a start, but it still doesn't answer the question of who is the real Charlie Blander and why this Charlie Blander was killed." Nick stated.

"Doesn't the Ministry of State require positive proof of identity before they issue a passport?" Natalie asked.

Linda nodded.

"If that's the case, then it's a pretty certain bet that the deceased is the real Charlie Blander."

"Then that still leaves us with the question of who are the other Charlie Blanders. And why this particular one is dead." Peter replied.

The buzzer at the door sounded. Nick turned on the intercom.

"May I come up?" It was Paul Blaisdell.

Nick looked at Peter. He nodded.

"I'll let him in on my way out." Linda said as she stepped into the elevator.

Nick quickly typed in the encryption program on the computer. A few minutes later, Captain Blaisdell stood in the loft, staring at the enormous expanse before him. "I came to see if there was anything you needed." He said. "I want to help."

"Help?" Peter said with as much innocence as he could muster. "With what?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Peter. I raised you, remember. If your ... Partner is anything like you ... and after talking with Amanda Cohen, I'm pretty sure he is ... the two of you ... and the Coroner, here ... are up to your eyeballs in the Blander case."

"Why Captain! We were ordered off the case by the RCMP. Would we disobey orders?"

"And the donkeys will be singing grand opera any minute now. I just hope the flying pigs are listening. Seriously. It raised the hairs on the back of my neck when those two ... two ... " He gritted his teeth and grunted loudly. " ... just waltz into my office, pretty as you please, and tell me to ignore the fact that two of my men were just shot at and nearly killed. Not to mention the murder case. No explanations, just get off the case or go to jail. Do not pass go. Do not collect the two hundred dollars. I want to help, gentlemen. Off the record, of course." He walked to the computer and gazed at it for a few moments. Two knights in armor were sparring with each other. "Now, tell me the rules for this little game."

They spent the next hour explaining to the Captain all they had learned.

No sooner had he left when the phone rang.

"This is Caine." The voice said. "I may have some information on the ... " He cleared his throat. " ... project you are working on. Meet me at my Dojo at seven o'clock."

"It must be very important stuff if Pop is using a telephone." Peter said. "We'd better all go."

**********

They entered the main room of the Dojo a few minutes after seven. Except for themselves, it was empty. A few moments later, Caine and another man came from behind the curtained off area that served as Caine's office. They were both dressed in Kung Fu uniforms.

"This is Thomas Ling Po" Caine said, indicating the man. "He is one of my students. Tell these gentlemen what you told me earlier."

Thomas Po was a smallish, squarely built man. He appeared to be in his early twenties. "Well, I ... ah ... " He fiddled with the tassels of his brown belt and blushed slightly.

"Go on, they will understand." Caine encouraged.

"I think I've seen a ghost. But then again, I'm not real sure. There were three of us and we all saw it ... or rather him." Tom began slowly. "We all went to Detroit last week on sort of a mini holiday. Anyway, we were walking down Woodward toward Circus Park when we spotted him coming toward us. Only it couldn't have been him. But I know him. And it was him."

"Who?"

"Charlie Blander. I know that sounds crazy, but I'm positive it was him."

"What did you do?"

"We called to him. He just looked at us for a few seconds and then turned and nearly ran down Clifford. By the time we got to the intersection, he was gone."

**********

Detroit

"Bless Linda's heart." Natalie said as they walked into the hotel. It was in a lower middle class working neighborhood that had seen better days, but was nowhere near run down. The hotel offered rooms by the day, week or month. "She and Aristotle did a bang up job in helping us find where this particular Charlie Blander was staying. Even gave us a name ... Philip Morris. You don't think he could have come up with something just a little bit more original, do you?"

"Yeah. That's Mr. Morris." The desk clerk said when they showed him an enlargement of the driver's license photo. "He isn't some kind of criminal or anything like that, is he? I don't want to get in any trouble with the authorities."

"No trouble. We just want to talk with him. That's all." Peter said in his best Jack Webb monotone.

"He won't be coming back here 'till around midnight. He works nights at the Gas 'N' Go three blocks from here. If you want to talk to him, you can probably find him there." He wrote the address on a slip of paper and handed it to Nick.

**********

"Mr. Morris." Nick said as he walked up to the counter at the gas station. The man behind it was definitely the same man as in the driver's license photo for Charlie Blander. He sported a fiberglass cast on his left wrist. There was a distinct similarity between him and the man who was killed. If it weren't for the RCMP interference, the body could have easily been identified as this man.

"Yes. Do I know you?"

"No, but I think we have a mutual friend. Charlie Blander." Peter said, flashing his badge.

Charlie / Philip bolted toward the end of the counter only to be grabbed by Nick. "Let's go into the office where we can talk."

Charlie hung his head as he sat behind the small desk. Nick and Peter stood between him and the door. Natalie took the only other seat on the opposite side of the desk. "I didn't kill him. He was already dead when I got to the store. The body was in the fenced off area behind the dumpster. I don't know how he got there. I swear."

Nick listened intently to the man's heartbeat. He was terrified, but he was telling the truth.

"How did he get into your basement?" Peter continued.

"I put him there." There was a long pause.

"Why?" Natalie asked finally.

"It's a very long story." he said nervously.

"Don't worry. We just want to get to the bottom of this." Nick said, staring into the man's eyes and homing in on the tha-thump of his heart. "Just tell us the truth and you will have nothing to fear." He could sense the man calming.

"I ... I am into the mob up to my eyeballs. I ... gamble." He said. "Anything. Horses. Cards. Sports. Lottery. Even bingo."

"And you bet with the Mafia?"

"Oh! No! I would never do that. It was completely legal ... Only thing is ... when my bank account was gone, I started using the Company's money. I was gonna repay it when I hit it big. I swear I was. Only I never did. I just kept getting deeper and deeper. Then they sent word that the chain had been bought out and they were auditing all of the franchises. I had to put the money back. Fast. I was desperate. I mean I couldn't exactly go to the bank and say I needed thirty thousand dollars to replace funds I had embezzled, could I?"

To make a long story short, I met this guy at the track who said he knew a friend of a friend who could lend me a large sum of money with no questions asked and no paper trail. It sounded perfect. He gave me the money with little more than a handshake. I put it all back. No one was the wiser. I was repaying this … friend as much as I could afford every week and I thought things were going to finally work out. I was even going to Gambler's Anonymous. In another city, of course.

Then three weeks ago, these two ... hoods came to see me at the store. They said that the man I had borrowed the money from wanted it all back. Right now! They said I had ten days to pay it back or they were going to kill me. To remind me that they weren't kidding, one of them broke my wrist. I told the doctor I had slipped.

When I saw the body, I figured I had the perfect out. I mean he looked an awful lot like me, and with his face blown off like that, no one would ever know that it wasn't me. I figured that if everybody thought I was dead, the mob couldn't hound me. I dragged him into the cellar and put my wallet in his pocket. Then I headed out of town and never looked back. I found a boat tied near the Soo Locks and rowed into the US one night. That way I could avoid the border checkpoints.

I thought I was in the clear until I saw Tom Po last weekend. He was the one who told you, Right?"

"Not exactly. Just out of curiosity, is Charles Blander your real name?" Natalie queried.

Charlie nodded. "Uh huh. Why do you ask."

"Do you know the identity of the dead man?"

"I have no idea. I never saw him before. Why?"

"He's Charlie Blander."

"You're joking. Talk about incredible coincidences."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Peter said.

"One more question. Why pick an obviously phony name like Philip Morris?" Nick asked.

"But it's not a phony name. I got it from the death notices in the Saginaw paper. He died last week and he was the same age as me. From the picture that accompanied the article, we even looked a little bit alike, too. As far as the Obituary went, he had no family. We were the same in that respect, too. Once I had a name, it wasn't all that hard to get a replacement Social Security card for him ... me. I also got a replacement driver's license and I have a birth Certificate coming, too." He looked at the two Canadian policemen with a mix of desperation and pleading. "You're going to take me back, aren't you? They'll kill me as soon as we touch Canadian soil. You know that, don't you."

Nick gestured for Peter to follow him into the men's room. "Stay put until we come back." He threatened, letting Charlie see the touch of gold in his eyes and just a hint of his fangs. It had the desired effect. Charlie was sweating and Nick could almost smell the fear in him.

"Now what do we do?" Peter asked as he shut the door.

"What do you want to do?" Nick said. "He's right, you know. If we take him back, he'll be dead within forty-eight hours. Besides, what charge do we take him back on? Murder? Take my word for it, he's telling the truth. He didn't kill our other Charlie Blander. Embezzlement? I'm sure that the company books are squeaky clean. Illegally leaving the country? Technically, he's dead. How can a dead man cross borders? Besides, we're not even supposed to be here in the first place. Linda lent us those phony Customs Officers credentials so there wouldn't be any record of our crossing. If we go public, lots of heads will roll, not just ours, and in a lot of places. We've broken about a dozen local and international laws and defied at least two Crown Court orders so far."

"So, what do we do?"

"I say we go back home and as far as anyone knows, we weren't even here."

"What about the American Government. He is an illegal alien, after all. Also, there's a little thing like forgery and impersonation."

"As far as I'm concerned, that's their problem, They won't know anything unless someone tells them and I certainly won't tell them."

"Tell them about what?" Peter said with a conspiratorial smirk.

Nick smiled broadly. He could sympathize with Charlie / Philip. He had been in this situation on too many occasions.

"You didn't ... whammy him, did you, Nick?" Natalie asked as they rode back to Toronto. Peter was following them in his own car. They had parked their cars several blocks from the border in Windsor and had taken the bus into Detroit to further avoid detection. They returned the same way.

"No ... not exactly. I just helped him to calm down and relax."

"That's still a whammy." She was anything but pleased.

"Details. Details." He kissed her lightly on the cheek.

**********

"... And that's about all we found." Nick said to Blaisdell. "We couldn't in all conscience extradite him. He really didn't have anything to do with the murder. On top of that, we would have had to go through the Crown prosecutor to get a warrant, and that would have alerted the Mounties. Instead of one prisoner, there would have been at least seven people behind bars."

"Off the record, I agree." Blaisdell said. "But that doesn't bring us any closer to who killed Charlie Blander and who took pot shots at the two of you. Not to mention why the RCMP is interested in keeping this such a tight secret. Keep digging and keep me informed."

"Speaking of pot shots, exactly what did Forensics turn up on the roof? I've made some discrete inquiries, but no one's talking. Too scared of Big Brother." Peter said.

"Nothing. Our people found nothing. RCMP quarantined the building immediately after the shooting, and when they finally did let our people up there, it was surgically clean. Not even pigeon poop."

**********

" ... It is my considered opinion that the patient died as the result of injuries sustained by striking a concrete driveway. This was a direct result of a fall from a roof approximately four meters from the ground. There does not appear to be any indications of any other cause of death and no sign of any foul play." Natalie Lambert switched the recorder off and covered the tiny body with the sheet.

She hated it when she had to do autopsies on small children. Nine year old Dorothy Miller was no exception. She had climbed on the garage roof of her home at the taunting of some neighborhood children. While there, she lost her footing and landed head first on the driveway. The fall snapped her neck. She was killed instantly.

"You love him, do you not?"

Natalie jumped at the sound of the voice. She turned quickly and came face to face with the kindly Chinese.

"How did you get in here?" She demanded. She was alone in the morgue and she had not heard anyone enter.

"I did not mean to frighten you. I apologize." He said cupping his hands and bowing slightly. "I am Caine."

"I know. I met you at the Dojo several days ago."

"Nicholas. You love him." He repeated.

"I don't know where you got that idea. We're just friends. Nothing more." She seemed flustered.

"You may tell others that. You may even tell him that. What do you tell yourself?"

"If you know what he is, and you do know ... he has told me everything about your sessions ... You know that because of what he is, we can never be anything but friends."

"Yet you still love him."

"Well ... I ... Yes. I love him. It that so wrong?"

"Why do you not tell him."

"I don't want to get his hopes up. The chances of him regaining his mortality are slim at best."

"If he were not to regain his mortality, would you still love him?"

"What kind of a question is that? Of course I would still love him. I love Nicholas Knight ... not Nicholas the vampire ... or Nicholas the man ... I love Nicholas the whole person!"

"Then tell him that. Tell him that you love him, not for WHAT he is, but for what HE is."

She stared at her shoes for a few seconds, and then looked back up. Into thin air. As silently and as mysteriously as he had arrived, Caine was gone.

"And I thought only Nick could do that." She mused.

**********

"... So, Nicholas. Are you comfortable with what you are." Caine asked as Nicholas seated himself at the kitchen table.

Nick picked up the cup that was sitting before him and studied it for a moment. It contained, as always, a blend of teas. He put it down without drinking. "I don't know." He said hesitantly

"Do you still wish to be mortal?"

He thought for a long moment. "I wish salvation. I wish to repay humanity for all of the sins I have committed. I need to regain that part of myself that I lost when I became immortal. I lost my soul. I ... Only by becoming mortal once again can I have a chance to find it again."

"And yet you bow your will to the one who made you a vampire. He does not want you to achieve your goals. Does that not strike you as inconsistent."

"You don't know my master. Trust me, it is always better to do what he says. To do otherwise is an open invitation to bring death and destruction to all those around you. Even now, I am putting you and all you care about in mortal danger."

"Yet you still come here to learn from me."

Nick did not answer, only bow his head dejectedly.

"And what about Natalie Lambert. Are you not putting her in mortal danger?"

"We're only friends. She knows that."

"Does she? Do you?"

"We can be nothing more."

"You love her. You cannot deny it. I have seen it in your eyes."

"Yes. I love her with all my heart and soul, but I can't do anything about it. Not without risking killing her."

"How can you love her with something you say you do not have? You claim you do not have a soul, but in the same sentence, you say that you love her with all your soul. Tell her how you feel. She will understand and she will love you as well."

"How can she love me? She knows what I am."

"Ask ... her."

**********

"I thought I told you to drop this matter." LaCroix demanded. Nick jumped. He had not heard him enter the loft, nor had he sensed his creator. If Lucien LaCroix did not want to be sensed, he would not be sensed.

"And a good evening to you too." Nick said sarcastically.

"I will not tolerate you pursuing this sham any longer."

"What does this case mean to you?"

LaCroix spat. "This mortal foolishness means nothing to me. However, your involvement with the Shaolin does. We have been through this before. This time will be no different from the last. He cannot help you. Only I can help you. I am the only one who has control over you. I told you once. I will not tell you again. You will stop seeing this ... man ... at once."

"Or what?"

"Just do as I say." He said.

"And I told you I do not take orders from you." He lunged at the elder vampire, but LaCroix deftly sidestepped.

"Nicholas, you are so very predictable." He said. "Next you will attempt to overpower me with brute force."

Nicholas tried to stop his swing, but the centrifugal force was too difficult to resist. LaCroix caught the younger vampire's wrist and twisted violently. The sound of ligaments popping was clear. "It is such a shame. Wasting all this energy when it is so much easier to merely accept the inevitable."

And what inevitability is that?" Nick said, rubbing his sore arm. In less than an hour, there would be no sign that it had ever been injured, but for now, the pain was exquisite.

"Do not toy with me. You do not have the talent for that. You know full well that this mockery of a life that you have been leading will only end in frustration and defeat. Why don't you just accept what you are and let everyone pursue their destiny as well."

"And what AM I?"

"YOU ARE MINE!"

**********

Three Rocks, Winter 1901

The compound was nearly complete. Already, the housing units were filling with students eager to partake of the wisdom Caine was teaching. Also, several monks had arrived to assist the Master in his undertaking. In the short time he had been here, Nicholas had learned much from the Shaolin. For the first time in centuries ... For the first time since that fateful night in 1228, he was at peace with himself. The world of vampires and of Lucien LaCroix seemed to be a million miles away.

He reigned the horses to a stop in front of the general store and climbed off the buckboard. It was Wednesday and Nicholas was on the regular shopping trip into Three Rocks for supplies. He tied the reins and went inside.

The storekeeper read the list and began piling boxes and bags by the door. As he did, Nicholas ferried them to the wagon. When he was through and had paid the bill, the grocer clasped Nick's hand and shook it. "I didn't like you guys too much when Caine decided to build his temple here. I thought it would be a monstrosity and that it would bring trouble to the town. I was wrong. All of you have been the best neighbors anybody could want. You tell that to Caine for me."

"Why don't you come out to the temple and tell him yourself. I'm sure he would appreciate that."

"I just might do that."

He pulled into the railroad station next. There was a shipment of furniture that would arrive on the evening train. In the distance, he could hear the whistle.

He watched, fascinated as the passengers made their way into the station. Then, suddenly his heart froze. There was an all too familiar vibration from within the passenger car. He knew the one who was aboard the train. A powerful vampire. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw him. Lucien LaCroix! He quickly turned the wagon and headed at a breakneck gallop toward the Temple complex.

After about three miles, he knew that this method was much too slow. He pulled the horses to the side and looked around. The road was deserted. Someone could come back for the horses at another time. He took to the air as fast as he could. If he was lucky, he could say his good-byes and be gone before LaCroix arrived. It was the only way he could assure their safety. He knew that Caine and the other monks were Kung Fu masters, but against a vampire as powerful as LaCroix, that meant little.

**********

From his window, Caine saw Nicholas land and run almost faster that the eye could see to his room. He looked around to be sure that no one else had seen the vampire return. No one had.

"Nicholas. What has you so alarmed?" Caine said as he approached him.

Nicholas was stuffing his meager belongings into a duffel bag as fast as he could. "I must leave now, There is a great danger to you and your community. If I go immediately, I may be able to divert him. I only came back to warn you." There was obvious panic in his eyes.

"Him? Is this danger from the one you call LaCroix?"

"Yes. He is in Three Rocks. I saw him this evening when I went to get the furniture. In a matter of minutes he will be here. If I am gone by then, he may leave you alone."

"What can he do to us?"

"You don't know him the way I do, Master Caine."

"Do NOT call him MASTER! HE is not your MASTER!" LaCroix stepped out of the shadows. His eyes were glowing yellow and his fangs were prominent. "I am the ONLY MASTER you will EVER have!"

"He has no master." Caine said softly. "He is his own man."

"He is what I TELL him he is!" LaCroix sneered. "And he is MINE!" He cuffed Nicholas across the face and sent him splaying against the opposite wall. An ordinary man would have been severely injured or killed from the force of the blow, but Nicholas only was winded. LaCroix threw the partially packed duffel at him. "Finish packing, Mon Fils. Then we will be on our way. If you hurry, I may not do too much damage to the good monks and their temple."

"Nicholas. There is no need for you to leave." Caine said.

"And don't think I have forgotten about you ... MASTER Caine ..." LaCroix grabbed the Shaolin priest by the neck. "No one defies me without feeling my wrath. NO ONE!" He tilted the Chinaman's head to one side and bared his fangs.

Caine locked gazes with the vampire. There was no fear or panic in his eyes. Calmly, he placed his hands over LaCroix's wrists. In one fluid motion, he fell backward and at the same time plaanted his right foot into the vampire's stomach and pushed upward. LaCroix made a not-so graceful arc in the air and landed with a thud on the floor.

"You will PAY for this. And you will pay dearly." LaCroix growled. He started for him, but Nicholas placed himself between the priest and his maker.

"No, LaCroix. Your quarrel is with me, not with him. I will go with you peacefully. There is no need to harm him or anyone else."

"Nicholas. You do not have to do this." Caine repeated. "You do not have to subject yourself to him any longer. I am very capable of taking care of myself, and so are the others here."

"Against another mortal, yes. But he is not a mortal. You have no idea what he is capable of. I do. He can easily fulfill his threats. I have lived with him for seven centuries. I can live with him for a while longer." He picked up his duffel and started for the door. "I am ready ..." He looked directly at LaCroix. " ... Master."

**********

Toronto

Nick sat at the computer. His hands were on the keyboard, but he was not typing anything. He stared blankly at the knights jousting on the screen. Natalie came to him and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. He stiffened noticeably "Penny for your thoughts." She said softly. "Although I don't think I need a penny. When you act this way, it's usually because LaCroix has been here."

Nick nodded. He glanced at Peter, who was busy at the other side of the cavernous loft studying the stack of papers before him. "He made his usual threats. Last time I gave in. This time ... " He trailed off.

"Perhaps some refreshment might be in order" Caine said from the doorway. Everyone reacted to his presence, especially Nick. He had to fight to keep the vampire in check. "How ... This place is as secure as it is possible to make it. How did you get in without being detected." He asked.

Caine only smiled enigmatically. "I have my ways." He placed a large sack on the counter. "Since we could not go out for dinner, Peter, I thought I would bring dinner to you. I have your favorites." He reached into the sack and extracted several cartons, plates, and four pairs of chopsticks. I have brought enough for everyone ... Including you, Nicholas. He took a thermos from the sack.

"Is that what I think it is?" Nick asked.

"It is my special ... tea." Caine answered. smiling broadly at his play on words. He looked deeply into Nick's eyes. "Have some War Su Gai. You will find you can eat it as well. It is another special recipe." He placed several forkfuls on one of the plates he had brought and handed it to Nick.

Gingerly Nick brought it to his mouth. He chewed slowly at first then with greater enthusiasm. "This is great!" He exclaimed as he washed it down with a large sip of the tea.

"Could I have some of that to analyze? Or at least the recipe?" Natalie said. "If I could find out what is different about them, I might be able to use information that to formulate other foods for him to eat." Natalie said.

"I assure you, Doctor. There is nothing that is different from any other food." Caine replied, still wearing the smile.

"But ... " Nick started.

"As I once told you. All in good time"

"If only you could solve riddles as good as you can make them, Pop." Peter said between mouthfuls of Moo Goo Gui Pan.

"You have a riddle?"

"Yeah. Who took a shot at Nick and me and why was Charlie Blander number one killed."

"Why not ask the killer."

"If we knew who, we'd know why."

"You know who, you just don't know you know."

"Don't you ever give a straight answer?"

"I think he just did." Natalie said. "Think about it. Who would want Charlie Blander dead? Pick any Charlie Blander. If we were confused, it's just possible that the killer was, too. It's possible that he or she might have killed the wrong Charlie Blander, isn't it? And we already know that the store manager, Charlie Blander was in way too deep with a loan shark. Maybe they hit the wrong man. There's only one way to find out. As Caine said, ask the killer."

"Don Constantine." Nick said.

"Bon Bun Hao" Peter said a fraction behind Nick.

**********

"Look, Peter, I told you a dozen times. I'm a legitimate businessman." Bun Hao said.

"And I'll get the phony deeds to the CN Tower." Peter replied.

"Well, Mostly legit."

" ... And the ones for the Victoria Hotel as well."

"Some of my businesses are on the up and up."

"Just answer a few questions and I'll forget about having the Parliamentary Crime Commission investigate all your so called legitimate businesses."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Tell me what you know about Charlie Blander."

"I already did the last time we talked. He's the manager of that Carryout that was robbed last week."

"Do you know who killed him?"

"I told you before, I don't know anything about any killings." Bun Hao said. "At least I know it wasn't any of my people that did it. Why don't you talk to Don Thomas Constantine. He is in charge of the Occidental ... Business in this area.

**********

Nick tapped Thomas Constantine on the shoulder. The Mafia Don jumped nearly two feet.

"You haven't been practicing." Nick said. "LaCroix won't like that. You should have been able to detect me from at least a hundred feet away."

"I don't want to be a vampire. I just want to live long enough that one of my blood takes over the business. Then I will probably walk into the sun. Your fa ... LaCroix ... understood that when he brought me across."

"Even so, there are some skills that could prove very useful for your survival. If I had been an Enforcer, you would have been dead by now."

"Maybe you're right. But I don't think you came here to discuss my proficiency as a vampire, did you?"

"Actually, I came to find out what you know about Charlie Blander."

The elderly fledgling studied for a moment and shook his head. "The name doesn't ring a bell."

"He was involved with a loan shark and was killed a week ago."

"If money was involved, you want to talk with Louie Di Palermo. He's in charge of all of the financial affairs of the ... business." He scribbled something on a paper and handed it to his vampire 'brother'. "Here's where you'll find him."

**********

Louie Di Palermo looked like your stereotype hood. He was dressed in a gray suit with a black silk shirt and a white tie. A nondescript gray felt hat perched precariously on the back of his head. At the time that Peter and Nick caught up with him, he was in his 'office', a table at the racetrack.

"Look, I run a legitimate business." Louie Di Palermo told the two detectives between bites of something that looked suspiciously Italian. "I don't know nothin' about no loan sharking. That's illegal, you know."

"And I'm the Queen of Quebec." Peter retorted. "We're not here in an official capacity. We just need some information to wrap some loose ends."

"I guarantee you there will be nothing said beyond this table." Nick added.

"I hear you, but if any of this gets out, you two are dead men. Of course, I never said nothin'."

"Said what?" Peter replied.

"Okay, although it goes against my better judgment, I'm gonna trust you guys. That rat Blander owed me a large chunk. He was making payments, but they wasn't near big enough to even to cover the interest. He musta thought that I was a bank or somethin'. Anyways, I sent two of my ... loan officers to pay a little visit to him to remind him of his agreement. When he didn't cough up, I sent a ... collection agent to square the bill. As far as I'm concerned, the account is now settled."

"Did this ... collection agent settle the account in a very permanent manner?" Nick asked.

Di Palermo only nodded.

"And did your agent also take a few pot shots at two policemen the following night?"

"That was an unfortunate incident. He got a little overzealous. He will never do that again. I guarantee that."

**********

"Well, that wraps that up." Nick said as he deleted the files from his computer. He left the role playing game intact, though, just because. "We even found the third Charles Blander. He's alive and well and living in Moose Jaw. As far as we can tell, he has no connection with the other two Charlie Blanders."

"And how did you track that down?" Natalie asked.

Simple." Peter explained. "We just looked him up in the Internet White Pages."

"You did destroy the paper trail, didn't you?" Nick asked the others.

"Of course. I even mixed the ashes in with Sidney's kitty litter." Natalie said. "He wasn't too happy about it either. No one, but no one, will ever find them. Too bad nobody but the three of us will ever know the whole story."

"Yeah, but I don't want to spend any jail time, so I'm not going to tell anyone." Peter agreed.

"Hear! Hear!' Nick and Nat affirmed.

There was the sound of the buzzer from the outer door. Nick turned on the monitor. The face belonged to Sergeant Preston. Constable Kelley and several other men were behind him. "Open the door, Knight." The Sergeant said. "I have a search warrant and if you attempt to block me, I will break the door down." Almost before he was finished, the door opened and the elevator was on the way to the ground level. Seconds later, the Mounties were standing in the entrance to the loft.

"Good grief." Kelley said, open mouthed. "This place is huge."

Preston elbowed him.

"I was just admiring it, Sarge." Kelley justified.

"What are you looking for, Sergeant?" Nick asked.

"We have every suspicion that you two are continuing your investigation into the death of Charles Blander in direct defiance of a Crown Order. We have reason to believe that the proof of that suspicion is here in this apartment." He said handing the warrant to Nick.

"And what, exactly, brought you to that conclusion?" Natalie said,

"Simple deduction and human nature. You three were observed in Detroit two days ago and there does not seem to be any record of your crossing the border at Windsor. That in itself is highly suspicious. Also, you, Caine and you, Knight were seen in the company of known underworld representatives. In addition, you, Caine were making inquiries into a shooting incident at the police station the night we served the Crown Order on you."

"Of course I asked about the shooting!" Peter said defiantly. "Nick and I were the ones who were shot at."

"Another thing, I know cops like you. Once you sink your teeth into a case, you are like a dog with a bone. You don't let go. You gave up too easy. The same night of the shooting, the both of you took a week's leave. You've been here together nearly the whole time. That right there gave me the clue that you were still on the case."

"So far, all you have are suspicions. Not even circumstantial evidence. You know as well as I do that nothing you said will hold up in court." Nick declared.

"That's why we're here."

"If you must know, one of the so called 'underworld representatives' just so happens to be a relative of mine."

Nick said.

"And the other one is a friend of a friend of mine." Peter added.

"The reason you can't find any record of our crossing the border at Windsor is because we crossed at Point Pelee." Nick lied. The was a remote possibility that they may check that out, but it was only remote. If they did, he could always press Larry Merlin into action. He mentally shuddered to think what that would cost him.

"If you want to know why we've been here so much, it's because Nick has this really awesome role playing game. It's completely addictive, and we've been testing it out. Want to give it a try?" Natalie said, going to the computer. "Type in Thirteenth Century Knight." She said to the technician who was seated at the keyboard.

After an hour, Preston assembled his team. "Anything?" He asked

They all shook their heads no.

"Then we had better serve the warrants for Detective Caine's place and for Dr. Lambert's apartment." Preston said. "You three had better come with us. It will be easier if we are all together."

"Sergeant." Nick said. "May I have a word with you. In private?" He indicated an area away from the others.

"What is it Knight. You ready to confess?"

"Not exactly." Nick said, homing in on the Mountie's heartbeat. < Please don't let him be a resister. > He silently prayed. "There is no need to search the other two apartments." He said slowly and deliberately, holding the man's eyes with his.

"No need ... " Preston said flatly.

Nick remembered to breathe. "You are convinced that we were not connected in any way with Blander case."

"Not connected ... "

"One last thing." Nick kept a tight mental control on the Mountie. "Why are you so interested in the case? You can speak freely."

"Charles Blander is in the United States witness protection program. He was a highly placed member of a prominent Senator's staff and he saw a number of things that were blatantly illegal. He reported this to the Senate Ethics Committee in exchange for protection for him and his family. When we received the fingerprint sample from Doctor Lambert, we had to act quickly to suppress any information about the case. As far as anyone can document, there was a robbery at the carryout and nothing else. By the way, Charles Blander isn't his real name."

"Thank you, Sergeant. You can join the others. You will remember nothing of this conversation." He released his hold on Preston.

"On second thought." Preston said as he returned to the team waiting by the door. "I don't think we need to look any further. I'm convinced that they have been doing exactly what they say they have been doing. Let's go." He looked at the technician who was still seated at the computer. "Bergen? You coming?"

"Just a minute, Sarge. The Doc's right. This is the best RPG I've ever seen."

"Bergen! NOW!"

They filed into the elevator.

"Nick!" Natalie whispered loudly. She had dragged him to the same spot as he had taken the Mountie. Peter was busy watching the group depart. "You didn't ... " She wiggled her fingers in front of her eyes.

"Who, me?" Nick whispered back, looking intently at the ceiling and twiddling his thumbs.

**********

"Good evening my children." Lucien LaCroix's silken voice came over the radio as Nick drove to his destination. "This is the Nightcrawler. Tonight I have a story for you my little ones. It is the story of a wolf who did not want to be a wolf. He wanted to be a rabbit.

He dyed his fur white so he would look like a rabbit, but he was not a rabbit. He ate carrots and lettuce and celery so he could feed like a rabbit. But he was not a rabbit. He lived and played with the rabbits. But he was not a rabbit. He even hopped so he could walk like a rabbit. But he was not a rabbit. He was a wolf.

No matter how much he wanted to be otherwise, he could not change what he was. He was a wolf, and he would always be a wolf.

One day, he was with the rabbits when the strain of pretending that he was just like them became too much. Accidentally, he hurt one of them. Instinctively, the realization of what he was and what the rabbits were overtook all his reason. For so many months he had denied his true needs. Instinctively he knew that the rabbits were his dinner, not his brothers. He did what any wolf would do. He ate them. All of them. When he realized what he had done, he was so overcome with grief that he walked onto the highway and sat down to wait for a truck to come along.

The moral, my children? You cannot deny what you are ... any more than the wolf could. You cannot become something you are not ... any more than the wolf did. Be content with what you are. It is easier and much less painful for all concerned."

**********

Caine was sitting at the kitchen table when Nick entered. In front of him were two cups filled with tea and a bowl of rice. "Good evening, Nicholas." He said. "Have a seat and we shall begin."

"Caine ... " Nick began hesitantly " ... I ..."

"Is there something wrong?"

"I came to tell you ... "

"He came to tell you that he will not be coming here any longer." LaCroix said. Neither of them had noticed him enter. "He wants to tell you that despite all your good intentions, there has been no change in his so-called ... condition. There is no cure. There never was a cure. There never will be a cure. He cannot see wasting his time here. He is perfectly happy the way he is." He smiled at Nicholas He reminded him of a predator who had cornered his prey and was toying with it before he killed it. "Isn't that right, Nicholas?"

Nicholas stood silent for a long time, head bowed.

"NICHOLAS!"

"I ... I ... No!"

"NO?" LaCroix snapped, his eyes riveted on his protoge.

"No. I told you before. I do not take orders from you."

"You WILL do as I say. You KNOW the consequences of DISOBEYING me."

"I will continue to see Caine ... And anyone else I choose. You do not control my life any longer."

LaCroix reached for his son and held him by the throat. "We have had this conversation too many times. As much as you protest, you know eventually you will do as I say." He said coldly. "Why cause yourself and those around you so much grief and pain. Give in now and we will both leave quietly."

"He has spoken his wishes. He said he didn't want to go with you." Caine said softly. "Please leave."

"YOU ... Stay out of this." LaCroix sneered. "This is between My ... SON and I." He released his hold on Nicholas and turned toward Caine. His eyes were flecked with gold. "Your grandfather knew better than to interfere. I suggest you do the same."

"I am not my grandfather ... And Nicholas is not your slave. He has a free will to do as he chooses."

"He Will Do As I SAY!" LaCroix hissed.

"He has made his decision." Caine said in the same soft voice. "You would do well to respect it."

"Then I shall just have to unmake it for him." LaCroix reached for the Chinaman's throat.

Caine merely thrust his hand in front of him forcefully. He never made contact with the elder vampire, but LaCroix reacted as though he had been struck by lightning. He was thrust backwards and slammed against the wall

"You will pay for that, Chinaman!" He said as he struggled to his feet. "In a moment of weakness, I let Nicholas talk me into sparing your grandfather. I will not let that happen again." Eyes reddened, fangs elongated, he lunged for Caine.

Again, Caine merely pushed at the air between them, and once again the vampire found himself on the floor.

"There is ... AACK!" LaCroix clutched at his throat as though there was an invisible hand around it. "Wha ... What ... " He choked.

Caine stood beside him. His eyes firmly locked on the figure on the floor. "You did not learn then and you have not learned now. Nicholas does not belong to you. He does not belong to me either. He belongs to himself. Leave. Now. You have brought enough dishonor upon this place."

He released his mental hold and LaCroix almost ran for the door.

"I've never seen him so frightened. What did you do to him?" Nick asked.

"I did nothing." Caine replied. "I merely showed him the truth. He could not accept it so he fled from it."

"He will be back."

"I know, but in the meantime, let us continue. He sat back at the table. "Have some tea, Nicholas and I will explain the secrets it holds."

**********

" ... And he actually ran out of the room!" Natalie said as Nick finished describing the events.

"Like a scared rabbit." Nick replied. "I have no doubts that LaCroix will be back and with a vengeance, but I think I can handle him now. Caine stated that there is a saying that the truth will set you free. He also said that if I had stayed around long enough, his grandfather could have taught me that almost a hundred years ago."

"Did you ever see Kwai Chang Caine again?"

"Yes. About thirty five years later. Just before World War Two."

**********

Three Rocks, 1936

The young monk bowed and opened the door for Nicholas. This room, like all the others was sparsely furnished with just the bare essentials. A bed, a nightstand, a dresser, a lamp and a chair were the only objects in it. Nicholas went to the bed and knelt beside it. He took the hand of the frail man lying there.

Even though Kwai Chang Caine was only a shadow of his former self, he still radiated gentleness and power. His hair was now only a thin white fringe and his once strong body looked small and delicate under the cotton sheet that covered it. His face was pinched and drawn, but his eyes still glowed with the same brightness that Nicholas remembered.

"I came as soon as I could, Master Caine." He said, cupping his hands and bowing to the elderly man before him.

Caine slowly struggled to raise himself on one elbow.

"Master Caine!" The young monk said. "Do not exert yourself. You must conserve your strength." He quickly placed a pillow behind Cain's back.

"Lo Si. Do not worry about me, so. I will be all right." Caine said. His voice trembled slightly and he coughed several times before continuing. "Nicholas is here and he will attend to my needs. If there is any problems, he will summon you. Why do you not use the time to get some rest yourself. If you are exhausted, you can not care for me properly, can you?"

"No, Master Caine. Thank you, Master Caine." Lo Si said as he backed out of the room.

"Lo Si is a very diligent disciple. He has shown a marked interest in healing herbs and medicines. Someday he will make an excellent apothecary." He said to Nicholas. "Although sometimes he takes his duties a little too seriously. He watches over me like a mother hen."

"He is right, Master Caine. You should not be exerting yourself like this. Just lie back and rest. I will come back later."

"Nicholas. Stay." Caine smiled slightly. "For me, there might not be a later. I am dying. I know that. I only regret that there is so much that I have not yet accomplished."

"I can give you all the time you want. Just say the word ... "

Caine shook his head. "I am an old man. I have lived a long and full life. I am more than ready to meet my ancestors."

"Then why did you send for me?"

"You have not changed, Nicholas."

"Of course not, I am a vampire. I cannot age."

"That is exactly what I meant. That is WHAT you are. You still have not learned what YOU are. Some day you will learn that. I shall not see that day, but perhaps my son or his son or his son after him shall see the change that will come over you when you discover your true self."

"Speaking of sons, where is Matthew?"

He is in Tibet. He has joined the monastery there and he is helping to rebuild their temple. Even though he is not here physically, he is here spiritually. He and I share the same type of bond as you do with your ... father. Of course, our bond is a positive one." He coughed again. This time it was a racking one that shook his whole body.

"Caine." Nicholas said. "Let me go and get Lo Si."

Again Caine shook his head. "There will be time for that later. I must exact a promise from you."

"Anything."

"Watch over Matthew and his descendants. Keep them safe and free from unnecessary harm."

"I will, Master."

"To remind you of this pledge, I am giving you this." With a great effort, he reached to the nightstand beside the bed and took a black velvet box. Carefully he took out a black and white enameled pendant on a hammered gold chain. "It is the symbol of Ying and Yang. Good and evil. They are both intertwined. Without one, the other cannot exist."

"Which one am I?"

"That is something only you can figure out." Caine said, placing the medallion over Nicholas's head. "Now. You may get Lo Si. It is time."

**********

Toronto

"He died at daybreak that morning." Nicholas said. He had taken the box from its place with his other treasures and was holding it in front of him. He took out the medal and held it up to the light. It glistened as it slowly revolved. First it showed the intertwined black and white crescents and then the white and black ones.

"Which one are you?" Natalie asked.

"Both." He said placing the necklace over his head. "What I had to ... have to learn is to control the Yang ... the evil." He turned the medal so that the black crescent was on top. "So the Ying ... the good ... can dominate." He turned the white-dominated face outward.

"And did you keep your promise? Did you look after Matthew and his family?"

"Yes. I stayed in the background, though. They never knew I was there. I kept my vigil until the temple at Three Rocks was destroyed. The present day Caine and his son, Peter were in it and everyone, including myself, believed they were dead."

"I'm glad they weren't killed."

"So am I ... So am I"

**********

The End?

Not Exactly, Grasshopper.