The Wizard Comes Calling

Salomon left the library, found a taxi in the small town, and headed for Angel Bay on the outskirts.

As soon as he got in, Salomon made up a story and struck up a conversation with the driver. He simply disliked socializing; that did not mean he would not lie when necessary. According to the taxi driver, he had lived in the town since childhood. The town had an utterly ordinary name and no rare mineral resources. Aside from fishing, there was practically no way to make a living. The local public high school had terrible results, and young people who could find no prospects had no choice but to seek their fortunes in the big cities.

All in all, this town was merely a microcosm of countless ordinary farming and fishing towns in the United States.

Yet Salomon still managed to steer the conversation and get the driver to inadvertently reveal more information. He casually brought up the Collins family. This piqued the interest of the dark-skinned mixed-race driver who had supposedly lived in the town "since childhood." According to him, before the mistress of Angel Harbor disappeared, she had been the object of everyone's desire. She was a kind and beautiful woman, and he had met Angelique Bouchard when he was young. Speaking endlessly in his distinctive accent, he waved one arm as he talked. If he did not have to keep hold of the steering wheel, he would have been gesticulating with both hands.

"Hey, brother, I'm telling you, I saw her when I was a kid. Damn, I've never seen a woman that beautiful. She's still the star of my wet dreams. Don't tell my wife about that. You doubt me? I'm telling you, if you saw her, you wouldn't ask that. I'll never forget how she looked in that red dress. I'm telling you, you won't find a beauty like that in any big city. Even if you're in New York or Los Angeles, I guarantee no woman can compare to her..."

With great difficulty, Salomon pieced together some information from the driver's rhythmic stream of words. In essence, after Angelique Bouchard disappeared, Port Collins of the Collins family once again took control of the town's fishing industry. No one knew where Angelique Bouchard had gone, and every older man in town missed that dreamlike, elusive woman.

"Had you heard where Angelique Bouchard disappeared?" Salomon asked as if casually. "You would think the police would do their best to find a taxpayer like that."

"I don't know either." The driver shrugged. "They say the Bouchard family just suddenly appeared here—appeared out of nowhere, disappeared out of nowhere. Makes sense, right?"

"Yes, it makes perfect sense..." Salomon gazed worriedly out the window. The car slowly entered Angel Harbor. Since Angelique Bouchard's disappearance, the place had declined steadily, its resources repeatedly seized by Port Collins. Fishermen refused to sell their catches to Angel Harbor. The old cannery had fallen into ruin, and rotten fishing boats and nets still lingered in the harbor. Only starving seagulls still visited the place, standing on the wooden pilings stretching out into the sea as they tried to pick up rotten fish to eat.

Salomon could sense a fine net woven from black threads extending out from the Collins family and covering the entire town. Like the tightly woven nets used to catch sardines, it hauled up anything that could not slip through its mesh—such as the police, such as the media. Had Salomon not found enough suspicious details and clues amid the library's old papers, no one would have imagined that the Collins family, which seemed to provide the town with its economic lifeline, concealed such profound darkness.

Ever since 1972, murders had constantly occurred in the town. Yet police investigations and media reports always fizzled out halfway through, with the cases hastily closed. At first, people had still been interested in mentioning the grisly state of the bodies, but later on, no one cared about victims whose throats had been bitten to pieces.

Salomon paid the driver a handsome sum to take him around the town for the entire day, until late at night. After arranging to meet again the next day, Salomon opened a portal in an empty corner and returned to Kamar-Taj headquarters. It was not nighttime at Kamar-Taj, but he still collapsed into bed. Investigating and sorting through that chaotic mass of material, searching for useful clues within it, had been utterly exhausting.

When he woke up, he began preparing what he would need to face vampires, such as silver and certain spellcasting materials. After hurriedly finishing what might have been any one of his three meals, Salomon opened another portal and returned to Port Collins.

The driver was waiting for him there.

"Collins Manor." That was Salomon's first sentence after sitting behind the front passenger seat. His face was hard, as though he had prepared himself mentally. In truth, he intended to pry clues about the witch from Barnabas Collins. If necessary, he would dispose of the vampire while he was at it.

"They're cursed." Perhaps because Salomon had paid him so well, the driver did not want him going to that gloomy place. Even though the Collins family supported many people in town, they were still not well liked.

"It's all right," Salomon muttered. "I'm going to see them because of the curse."

"Willie! Stop drinking! You bald drunk without a single hair on your head! Get the hall cleaned up, now! Do you hear me?" Caroline Stoddard shouted from the broad staircase at one end of the living room. Though it was daytime, the heavy black wool curtains in the room were drawn tightly shut. Only a few strands of light seeped in, while the rest of the room remained steeped in shadow. Caroline was a voluptuous woman, somewhat curvy, yet even time had not lingered long on her body. Though she was middle-aged, her figure had not gone out of shape in the slightest, and she still possessed an extremely alluring backside.

She had a reason for shouting from the stairs. Her somewhat autistic younger brother, David Collins, had dropped food on the carpet again. At her roar, David, with his black curly hair, could not help shuddering. The curl sticking up from his forehead trembled as well.

"Calm down, Caroline." After moving a chess piece, the silver-haired woman sitting on the sofa spoke. Though she was already quite old, her mind and movements remained quick. "Don't make David too nervous. And Willie is old too. Cut him some slack for being slow."

"You still refuse to let me turn you into a vampire. I think you have already experienced the consequences of aging, Elizabeth." Sitting on the sofa opposite her was a pale man with short black hair. He wore classic eighteenth-century United Kingdom men's attire, a black coat studded with gemstones of many colors. Both his cuffs and hem were extravagantly ornate, and a white lace cravat was tied around his neck. After considering for a moment, he moved a chess piece. "We have rebuilt the Collins family. Look at everything in this living room. After that fire, you acquired all these exquisite sculptures and collectibles. And this as well."

He pointed to the crystal chandelier overhead. "I hope you can keep watching, and witness the Collins family return to glory."

"Aging is one of life's pleasures. That is something you cannot understand. I am already tired. Leave the rest to Caroline and David." Age had not diminished Elizabeth's elegance. "Barnabas, it's your move."

"Willie! Willie! Where are you?" When Willie failed to appear before her, Caroline raised her voice.

Then came hurried footsteps, and the doors to the hall suddenly flew open.

Willie, with not a single hair on his head, ran in panting. "Master... Hah... hah... hah..."

"Relax. Calm yourself." Barnabas picked up a glass with his sharp-nailed hand. He stood, walked over to Willie, and handed him the glass. "Drink, Willie. Tell me, what happened?"

"Someone... came..." Willie drained the sparkling wine in one gulp. "Burp..."

"The police? Or the newspaper?" Barnabas turned away and stopped paying attention to Willie. He looked at Elizabeth. "I assure you, I took care of everything."

"No, not the police, and not the newspaper!" Willie's eyes widened as he said in terror, "He looks like... a wizard!"