Most of the people had been driven away by the smell coming off Frank. Alvin handed Chief George a beer and said, "Chief, if there's anything else you need, and you're comfortable talking about it, go ahead. Honestly, I don't dislike the police!"
George looked up at Alvin and thought for a moment. "I don't know if I should tell you this. I've read your written reports and watched your videos. You have some very unusual abilities, and some powerful pets. I wanted to ask your advice. Maybe it could help."
Alvin grumbled to himself about the way people talked. Whenever they asked if they should say something, they always said it in the end. Then why waste your breath? I'll just keep quiet and watch you squirm.
The wily old Chief continued without a hint of embarrassment. "Recently, a senior executive at Stark Industries was attacked. Her bodyguard died saving her. Our investigation revealed that her attackers were Vampires."
George cut off Alvin just as he was about to scoff. "They really are Vampires: fangs, active at night, drinking human blood. After looking into it, we found they're a large group. Many people who've gone missing over the past few decades were connected to them."
Alvin looked at the Chief with scorn. "Wow. You didn't notice for decades, but the moment a Stark Industries executive gets attacked, you figure it out!"
Alvin rubbed his eyes and said disdainfully, "Honestly, Chief, you've lowered my opinion of the Big Apple City police more than I thought possible!"
Chief George gave a bitter smile. "I'm not going to shirk responsibility. When I learned about this, I ordered an investigation. But I lost more than ten officers. They were all good young men.
"I didn't want to watch them go off to their deaths. So I came to you. I thought you might know something."
Chief George rubbed his aching temples and said earnestly, "If you know anything, tell me. Let me send those sons of bitches to Hell."
Alvin thought it over. Chief George didn't seem to be putting on an act. He genuinely cared about public safety and grieved for the officers who'd been sacrificed. And the night, the fangs, the blood-drinking—all of it sounded familiar. There were no movies about Vampires in this world, but Alvin had watched plenty in his previous life. He was curious, but worried that looking into it might bring trouble.
Jessica had been drawn in by Chief George's story. She rested her chin in one hand against the Bar Counter, listening as if it were a tale.
Ginny climbed onto a Bar Stool, trying to copy Jessica by propping her chin on one hand. She couldn't understand what the adults were talking about, but she could watch Dad!
Amused by Ginny's pose, Alvin tickled her until she giggled.
He kissed his daughter on the cheek, then turned to Chief George. "I might know a little, but I'm not sure. Could you bring someone involved here to confirm it? Someone who can tell me in detail what they saw, heard, and even smelled."
Alvin paused, then added, "But shouldn't this sort of thing be handled by that S.H.I.E.L.D. organization? It's more their area of expertise."
At the mention of S.H.I.E.L.D., Chief George looked furious. Clearly, he hadn't gotten any good news from them. Just as the FBI looked down on the CIA, the Chief had evidently been someone S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't consider worth their attention.
"All they told me was that they were handling it, and that they'd brief me once it was over. Those sons of bitches don't care whether civilians or police officers live or die.
"A city councilman brought it up several times, and then his whole family disappeared. Those bastards think they can do whatever they want."
After cursing S.H.I.E.L.D. a couple of times, Chief George seemed to feel better. "I can arrange a meeting with the Stark Industries executive. Would that work for you?"
Alvin stretched and smiled. "I'm the owner and cook at a Restaurant. Come by at mealtime and I'll be here. I've got a big family to feed, after all!"
Alvin affectionately pinched Ginny's nose, then gave Jessica a disapproving look.
Ignoring Jessica's indignant protests, Alvin held out a hand to Chief George. "I don't know how this will turn out, but I can tell you're a good cop. If it's true, I promise I'll do my best. I have a child now, and I'm also a Principal."
George clearly knew something about Alvin's claim to be a Principal, and Alvin had given him his word.
Chief George joked, "That's right, Your Honor. Yours is the most unusual school I've ever seen. My daughter's about to start eleventh grade. Maybe I'll consider transferring her to your school.
"You know, teenage girls are such a headache. I wish I could follow her around with a Gun every day to keep some bad boys away from her."
Alvin looked at Ginny, sitting on the Bar Counter and playing with his fingers while clinging to his arm. He knew exactly how George felt. He decided he'd go back and draft a new policy to crack down on teenage dating at school.
Alvin nodded emphatically. "My school absolutely does not allow students to date! You can consider transferring your daughter next year. I can't promise anything else, but our college acceptance rate is guaranteed. Our graduating class is taught by highly respected retired professors."
In his mind, Alvin quietly kicked Professor Cage out of the highly respected category. No need to mention that to George, right?
Chief George hadn't expected Alvin to actually invite him to send his daughter to the school. He didn't know how to respond, so he laughed awkwardly and said, a little evasively, "I'll have to ask my Wife and daughter what they think!"
It had just dawned on Alvin that George's daughter would be an excellent student. If things worked out, she could set an example, and then outside students hoping to get into Community School would have to pay a fortune.
It wasn't that Alvin looked down on other schools. In a couple of years, when it came to exams, Community School would leave the others in the dust. What? Exams weren't enough; students needed social experience, too? The kids of Hell's Kitchen went home one day each week. That day was the best social experience they could get.
A school needed results to become successful. There wasn't enough time to achieve that right now, but there were still tricks he could use. Get more excellent students to take the exams, and the school's results would improve. Maybe it would take only a year to become a prestigious school.
Thinking of how prestigious schools recruited students in his previous life, Alvin remembered rich people throwing money at them. If the school had high standards, applicants even had to face a panel of teachers who picked them apart in interviews. Community School wouldn't be like that. If you had money, you were in.
But first, he needed to convince George to send his daughter. Alvin said, "Ask them? What for? Don't make me think less of you, George. I can guarantee your daughter won't have a boyfriend at my school. And she'd be starting eleventh grade, so she'd be taught by two retired Columbia University professors, Professor Wilson and Professor Cage.
"Professor Wilson was nominated for the highest literary prize in the United States, and Professor Cage was even more impressive—a Nobel Prize in Mathematics nominee. Just imagine your daughter's future under their guidance!
"Either professor could recommend your daughter to one of the top universities in the country. What are you waiting for, George? Think of all the bad boys hanging around your daughter at school. Her future is in your hands."
George was clearly tempted. He stroked his chin. "I'll think about it."
Before you continue