The red haired detective spun the half-filled water balloon on the table in front of the prisoner. “Okay, Vlad. You don’t mind me calling you Vlad, do you? We definitely want to be sure we’re not offending you.” The pale man didn’t take his eyes off the bag of O-negative blood in Murphy’s hand.

“My name is St. John Westminster, detective.”

Murphy chuckled at the haughty tone in Vlad’s voice. Then the one-way glass caught his eye, the handcuffs seeming to rest by themselves, edgewise on the tabletop, the chain taut in-between. Murphy nodded, smiling. “Yeah, Vlad. Whatever. Let’s see, we got your passport. Faked passport mind you, it says you’re forty-five and since we know you been living here up on Nob Hill for what… Fifty-five, sixty years now? Not to mention, no fingerprints and non-human DNA. Ain’t that right, Tommy?” Detective Sergeant Tómas Matias nodded his agreement without moving the Super-Soaker aimed at Vlad’s chest. “So, we got you for illegal possession of blood bank property.” He waved the blood bag that had been taken from the suspect’s luggage. It was clearly marked Blood Bank of the Pacific: O-. “ A fake passport, a half million in krugerrands… You going somewhere? You seemed like you were in a hurry when we picked you up.”

“I want my attorney. I gave you his card. Or, let me call him.”

“Well, Vlad. There’s a problem, y’see? With the fake passport, we’ve got a definite question of you being a citizen. You might be a terrorist. You might be an agent for the Elves. Not to mention the whole gray murky mess of whether or not you’re really alive. Which means, until someone from State can sort this out, we don’t have to give you that right.” Vlad started to rise up from the chair and stopped as he got too close to the cross hanging from the ceiling. “Sit down, Vlad.” Murphy waved the ankh in his hand towards Vlad, who sat quickly. “You keep staring at the bloodbag here, Vlad. You jonesin’? Is that it? Your favorite flavor?” Vlad’s eyes followed the bloodbag as Murphy passed it from hand to hand, then looked away as Murphy tucked the bloodbag into the pocket of his suit jacket. Murphy stepped directly opposite Vlad, the one way glass behind his shoulder as he spun the chair so the back was facing Vlad and sat down. “ I think I know what you did.” Murphy flipped the filefolder on the table open, grabbed a few pictures and began placing them in a line in front of Vlad. “I think you were lonely. You wanted company, didn’t you?” The first photo, a closeup from the girl’s portfolio. “Her name was Sophia Giordano.” The second photo, her senior class picture. “She was seventeen, you sick fuck.” The third photo was her lying dead on a sidewalk with a large hole in her chest. She only been turned for less than a day. Not enough time for a staking to leave only black dust.

“I know what her name was.”

“Good. So you admit you tried to turn her into one of your fucked up kind?”

“I did no such thing, detective.”

“Y’know…” Murphy waived a finger at the vampire. “You had me fooled at first. I almost bought the whole patron of the arts, helping the beautiful young girl realize her dreams of stardom. Emancipation took care of any legal entanglements with the parents. But you know what made me sure it was you?”

“Since I did not do this heinous thing, detective. I have no idea why you believe it was me.”

Murphy’s hand slammed into the desk. “Because.” Murphy took a deep breath, pulled the bloodbag back out of his suit jacket pocket and placed it on the table. In a much calmer voice he continued, “Because. She was O-negative.” Vlad stopped. Murphy saw it. Matias almost pulled the trigger on his Super-Soaker. It was that weird way the fangboys had of not moving at all. Perfect stillness. Usually the calm before the storm. Matias tensed, racking a little extra air into the Super Soaker aimed at the vampire’s center of mass. Then just as quickly, the moment passed.

“Detective, either contact my attorney or put me in holding until the State Department can establish my identity. I am done here.”

Murphy hopped up from the table with an energy that surprised Vlad, it showed in a slight flaring of the eyebrows. “Fine, Vlad. We’ll take care of you.” Murphy stepped to the door, opened it and took the Super-Soaker from the officer outside, while blocking the vampire’s view. He closed the door, then turned, showing Vlad the Super-Soaker as he took aim.

For the first time, Vlad looked worried. “I have rights, even such as I have rights!”

“Monsters don’t have rights, Vlad.” Murphy and Matias opened fire.