Read Online The Year's Best Horror Stories 7 by Gerald W. Page - Free Book Online
Authors: Gerald W. Page
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suite on Central Park West. The Judge lounged in an armchair, a wineglass in his big old hand. On this, his eighty-seventh birthday, his blue eyes were clear, penetrating. His once tawny hair and mustache had gone blizzard-white, but both grew thick, and his square face showed rosy. In his tailored blue leisure suit, he still looked powerfully deep-chested and broad-shouldered.
Blocky Lee Cobbett wore jacket and slacks almost as brown as his face. Next to him sat Laurel Parcher, small and young and cinnamon-haired. The others were natty Phil Drumm the summer theater producer, and Isobel Arrington from a wire press service. She was blonde, expensively dressed, she smoked a dark cigarette with a white tip. Her pen scribbled swiftly.
"Dracula's as much alive as Sherlock Holmes," argued Drumm. "All the revivals of the play, all the films-"
"Your musical should wake the dead, anyway," said Cobbett, drinking. "What's your main number, Phil? Garlic Time? Gory, Gory Hallelujah?"
"Let's have Christian charity here, Lee," Pursuivant came to Drumm's rescue. "Anyway, Miss Arrington came to interview me. Pour her some wine and let me try to answer her questions."
"I'm interested in Mr. Cobbett's remarks," said Isobel Arrington, her voice deliberately throaty. "He's an authority on the supernatural."
"Well, perhaps," admitted Cobbett, "and Miss Parcher has had some experiences. But Judge Pursuivant is the true authority, the author of Vampiricon."
"I've read it, in paperback," said Isobel Arrington. "Phil, it mentions a vampire belief up in Connecticut, where you're having your show. What's that town again?"
"Deslow," he told her. "We're making a wonderful old stone barn into a theater. I've invited Lee and Miss Parcher to visit."
She looked at Drumm. "Is Deslow a resort town?"
"Not yet, but maybe the show will bring tourists. In Deslow, up to now, peace and quiet is the chief business. If you drop your shoe, everybody in town will think somebody's blowing the safe."
"Deslow's not far from Jewett City," observed Pursuivant. "There were vampires there about a century and a quarter ago. A family named Ray was afflicted. And to the east, in Rhode Island, there was a lively vampire folklore in recent years."
"Let's leave Rhode Island to H. P. Lovecraft's imitators," suggested Cobbett. "What do you call your show, Phil?"
"The Land Beyond the Forest," said Drumm. "We're casting it now. Using locals in bit parts. But we have Gonda Chastel to play Dracula's countess."
"I never knew that Dracula had a countess," said Laurel Parcher.
"There was a stage star named Chastel, long ago when I was young," said Pursuivant. "Just the one name-Chastel."
"Gonda's her daughter, and a year or so ago Gonda came to live in Deslow," Drumm told them. "Her mother's buried there. Gonda has invested in our production."
"Is that why she has a part in it?" asked Isobel Arrington.
"She has a part in it because she's beautiful and gifted," replied Drumm, rather stuffily. "Old people say she's the very picture of her mother. Speaking of pictures, here are some to prove it."
He offered two glossy prints to Isobel Arrington, who murmured "Very sweet," and passed them to Laurel Parcher. Cobbett leaned to see.
One picture seemed copied from an older one. It showed a woman who stood with unconscious stateliness, in a gracefully draped robe with a tiara binding her rich flow of dark hair. The other picture was of a woman in fashionable evening dress, her hair ordered in modern fashion, with a face strikingly like that of the woman in the other photograph.
"Oh, she's lovely," said Laurel. "Isn't she, Lee?"
"Isn't she?" echoed Drumm.
"Magnificent," said Cobbett, handing the pictures to Pursuivant, who studied them gravely.
"Chastel was in Richmond, just after the first World War," he said slowly. "A dazzling Lady Macbeth. I was in love with her. Everyone was."
"Did you tell her you loved her?" asked Laurel.
"Yes. We had supper together, twice. Then
Blocky Lee Cobbett wore jacket and slacks almost as brown as his face. Next to him sat Laurel Parcher, small and young and cinnamon-haired. The others were natty Phil Drumm the summer theater producer, and Isobel Arrington from a wire press service. She was blonde, expensively dressed, she smoked a dark cigarette with a white tip. Her pen scribbled swiftly.
"Dracula's as much alive as Sherlock Holmes," argued Drumm. "All the revivals of the play, all the films-"
"Your musical should wake the dead, anyway," said Cobbett, drinking. "What's your main number, Phil? Garlic Time? Gory, Gory Hallelujah?"
"Let's have Christian charity here, Lee," Pursuivant came to Drumm's rescue. "Anyway, Miss Arrington came to interview me. Pour her some wine and let me try to answer her questions."
"I'm interested in Mr. Cobbett's remarks," said Isobel Arrington, her voice deliberately throaty. "He's an authority on the supernatural."
"Well, perhaps," admitted Cobbett, "and Miss Parcher has had some experiences. But Judge Pursuivant is the true authority, the author of Vampiricon."
"I've read it, in paperback," said Isobel Arrington. "Phil, it mentions a vampire belief up in Connecticut, where you're having your show. What's that town again?"
"Deslow," he told her. "We're making a wonderful old stone barn into a theater. I've invited Lee and Miss Parcher to visit."
She looked at Drumm. "Is Deslow a resort town?"
"Not yet, but maybe the show will bring tourists. In Deslow, up to now, peace and quiet is the chief business. If you drop your shoe, everybody in town will think somebody's blowing the safe."
"Deslow's not far from Jewett City," observed Pursuivant. "There were vampires there about a century and a quarter ago. A family named Ray was afflicted. And to the east, in Rhode Island, there was a lively vampire folklore in recent years."
"Let's leave Rhode Island to H. P. Lovecraft's imitators," suggested Cobbett. "What do you call your show, Phil?"
"The Land Beyond the Forest," said Drumm. "We're casting it now. Using locals in bit parts. But we have Gonda Chastel to play Dracula's countess."
"I never knew that Dracula had a countess," said Laurel Parcher.
"There was a stage star named Chastel, long ago when I was young," said Pursuivant. "Just the one name-Chastel."
"Gonda's her daughter, and a year or so ago Gonda came to live in Deslow," Drumm told them. "Her mother's buried there. Gonda has invested in our production."
"Is that why she has a part in it?" asked Isobel Arrington.
"She has a part in it because she's beautiful and gifted," replied Drumm, rather stuffily. "Old people say she's the very picture of her mother. Speaking of pictures, here are some to prove it."
He offered two glossy prints to Isobel Arrington, who murmured "Very sweet," and passed them to Laurel Parcher. Cobbett leaned to see.
One picture seemed copied from an older one. It showed a woman who stood with unconscious stateliness, in a gracefully draped robe with a tiara binding her rich flow of dark hair. The other picture was of a woman in fashionable evening dress, her hair ordered in modern fashion, with a face strikingly like that of the woman in the other photograph.
"Oh, she's lovely," said Laurel. "Isn't she, Lee?"
"Isn't she?" echoed Drumm.
"Magnificent," said Cobbett, handing the pictures to Pursuivant, who studied them gravely.
"Chastel was in Richmond, just after the first World War," he said slowly. "A dazzling Lady Macbeth. I was in love with her. Everyone was."
"Did you tell her you loved her?" asked Laurel.
"Yes. We had supper together, twice. Then
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