I had a feeling it wouldn't take a whole lot to set that yappy terror off. Still, the question was - why did they come here? Even if they'd just bought the place, it wasn't exactly the most romantic spot for a rendezvous. Hell, the stench of urine alone would be enough to put the most ardent Juliet off her game - though I had no doubt there were Rom cos out there who wouldn't have given a damn.
"Did you hear them leave?"
He shook his head. "Not then. Just yelled at them to shut up, then went back to sleep."
Obviously, he was a fun neighbor. I restrained my amusement and asked, "So what were you doing when you saw the shadow?"
"Getting the paper. The bastard paperboy threw it in the bushes again."
Deliberately, I was betting. "And you can't give me a description or anything?"
"It was just a black shadow." He shrugged.
Had he seen a vampire? It was possible - though he'd have to be an older vampire, considering it had been well after seven when Hammond had reported the break-in.
But why would a vampire waste so much blood?
And why would the woman's soul have said her fiance made the kill if a vampire had been involved? None of this was making any sense.
But then, I guess crimes like this rarely did when the investigation was only just beginning.
"So you didn't see this figure leave, either?"
"No. I watched until the cops came. The boyfriend left not long after I made the report, though. He had all this goo over him. Couldn't make out what it was, but it was red, like blood."
Probably because it was blood. "Why didn't you tell the cops about the boyfriend?"
He shrugged. "It's his house, like."
"But didn't you think it odd that he walked out after you'd reported the break-in to the cops?"
"No. Didn't think about it much, really."
I held back my irritation. "Did you notice anything else odd about him, besides the goo?"
He shook his head, then said, "He was barefooted. Odd considering the cold."
Yeah. But at least it meant he'd leave a scent trail, which I might be able to track. "Which way did he go, then?"
"Left." The old man sniffed. "It was strange, really, because his car is still parked up the road."
I stared at him for a moment, not sure I'd heard right. "His car is still here?"
"Yeah. Down there." He waved a hand over my shoulder, indicating the right side of the street.
"Mr. Hammond, you've been extremely helpful."
He beamed. "Always a pleasure to help the boys and girls in blue. Just don't forget to shut the gate properly on your way out."
I left. The beemer was ten cars down from the house, parked in a no-standing zone. There was no one inside and the car was locked.
I dug the phone out of my pocket and dialed the Directorate. "Sal," I said, when her not-so-cheery features came online, "I need a plate check."
"Is this official business?"
"Hell, no. I just thought I'd ring you up to piss you off."
"That would be no surprise." She sniffed. "What's the plate number?"