Chapter Twenty-Four
 
The little bell tinkled as April pushed through the door. Mr Gill looked at her with puffy, slightly pink eyes; she was fairly sure the ringing bell had woken him. In fact, she had a strange sense that the bell’s chimes didn’t just wake the shop’s proprietor, they woke the whole shop: when the door was closed, time stopped entirely.
 
‘Back so soon?’ said Mr Gill suspiciously, setting his glasses on his nose. ‘How can I help you today?’
 
‘Well, I was wondering if you had some sort of index or inventory of the books you have here?’
 
Mr Gill clucked his tongue in disapproval. ‘Oh no, no need for that. They are all stored up here,’ he said, pointing to the wiry white tufts of hair on the side of his head.
 
‘Then could you tell me if you have this book?’ she asked, opening the notebook and pointing to the entry. ‘Infernal Wickedness by Kingsley-Davis?’
 
The old man peered at the note. ‘Hmm … well, we did have a copy. Rather popular, that one. But I think the young lady bought it only the other day.’
 
‘Young lady? Who would that be?’
 
‘Oh, a charming young thing. Shiny hair. No, no, now I think about it, she didn’t buy it in the end. Yes, I think we may still have it. Shall we have a look?’
 
With some effort Mr Gill rose from his chair and gestured towards an alcove at the back of the shop, lifting the velvet rope that closed it off from the rest of the shop. April found herself climbing a wooden spiral staircase to the first floor, almost identical to the ground floor only crowded with even more books. Mr Gill followed her slowly then immediately began scanning the shelves at close range, tilting his head to read the worn leather spines through his tiny spectacles, tutting and muttering his way along the rows.
 
‘Ah, now here we are,’ said Mr Gill triumphantly, taking down a slim volume. It had a battered blue binding and faded gilt lettering. He handed it to April reverently.
 
‘Very rare, that one. Never seen another copy, actually, and plenty of people have been looking, let me tell you.’
 
‘Could I … ?’ asked April, gesturing to a chair by the window.
 
‘Oh, by all means, by all means,’ said Mr Gill, tottering towards the stairs. ‘I’ve plenty to get on with, rushed off my feet as you can see.’
 
When he was gone, she eagerly opened the book and began to read the foreword.
 
It is my unhappy duty to inform the reader, within these pages, of a true horror hiding in our very backyards. This is not an historical terror such as a young boy may thrill over while reading of dead kings and queens, but a very real present-day threat which may, if not handled with the proper vigour and dispatch, even undermine the already shaky foundations of our civilisation. It is not a disease that the wealthy classes can avoid with indoorplumbing and rich food, nor is it something education and breeding will unseat, for it is as present behind the doors of the finest houses in the land as it is in the dark streets of Clerkenwell and Bow. My dearly cherished hope is that, by setting these facts down in type, I can expose these fiends and rid our land of them once and for all. Please, dear reader, heed my words, for if this plague is allowed to spread, all that we hold dear will surely unravel.
 
J. Kingsley-Davis, St James, 1903
 
 
As she read the words, April felt herself shiver. It wasn’t the comically dire warnings of the author, it was the fact that they were so similar in sentiment to the snippet of the introduction her father had written for his new book.
 
It was almost uncanny - unless, of course, he had read this obscure tome himself, but then Mr Gill had said it was super-rare, hadn’t he? Still, her father was a journalist, he could find things that other people couldn’t. She quickly turned back to the index page to look at the chapter headings. ‘Chapter One - The Vampyre, A History’, ‘Chapter Two - Arrival On Sovereign Soil’, ‘Chapter Three -The Nests Are Feathered’, ‘Chapter Four-The Servants Are Recruited’. It was obviously a history of the myth, but presented as historical fact. In any case, it would be useful in April’s investigation. She flipped back to the front page to see how much it cost and almost fell off her chair. ‘Three hundred and thirty pounds?’ she gasped. How could any book be worth that? You can get anything off the Internet for nothing these days - why would you bother with these dusty old things?
 
But then again, she had never found any information as focused and concise as this on the Internet. Certainly, everything she’d found written about the Highgate Vampire on the net was confused and a bit hysterical. That’s probably because vampires are made up, April reminded herself. It’s not as if they’re in the Natural History Museum.
 
Sadly, April headed back down the spiral stairs to Mr Gill and put the book on his desk.
 
‘Changed your mind?’ he asked, peering over his glasses.
 
‘More that I can’t afford a book like that,’ she said. ‘It’s a shame, because it’s exactly what I need.’
 
‘That’s what the other girl said,’ mused Mr Gill vaguely.
 
‘Who was this other girl?’
 
‘Oh, came in a while ago, asking for the Kingsley-Davis, said she couldn’t afford it either. People don’t appreciate the value of rare books any more, you see. Sometimes the books you find on these shelves are the last remaining copy of a masterpiece that took decades to complete and contains vital information that might otherwise have been lost.’ The old man paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Of course, many of them are utter rubbish,’ he added.
 
‘Well, thank you for letting me see it—’
 
‘Isabelle,’ said Mr Gill.
 
April looked up sharply. The shopkeeper was bent over a large ledger on his desk.
 
‘Isabelle Davis, that was her name,’ he said. ‘I wrote it down in case a cheaper copy came in, although, as I told her, that’s most unlikely. Yes, I remembered it because of the name. Apparently she and the author were distantly related.’
 
‘Could it have been the same Isabelle Davis who was killed in the cemetery?’
 
Mr Gill’s rheumy eyes opened wider. ‘Do you think so?’ he said. ‘I read about it of course, a terrible business, but you never think of it happening to someone you’ve spoken to, do you? My word, the poor girl.’
 
April could feel the hairs standing up on her neck. ‘Thank you, Mr Gill.’
 
She turned towards the door and pulled the handle.
 
‘Of course, if you’re not too busy, I could always give you a precis of the book,’ he said, picking it up and waving it at her. ‘I read it after she’d left. Very interesting, actually. Especially in the light of the, uh, murder.’
 
‘Oh, that would be fantastic.’
 
‘Well, sit yourself down over there and let’s see what I remember, but not before I’ve put the kettle on, mmm?’ he said, reaching for an ancient plastic jug. ‘I’m sure you’d like a cup of tea?’
 
‘Oh yes,’ said April. ‘Yes I would, very much.’