From: Karin Welss Subject: Vampires Anonymous: Radio Variations on a Theme: Moonlighting Scene One: It was a slow afternoon at the Raven, and Janette sat behind her oh-so-avant-garde black glass and chrome desk, impatiently tapping her pen against the sleek, polished surface. Safely shut away from the harsh, burning light of day, she wanted to happen. Anything-- to distract her from the unbearable tedium of doing her month-end reconciliation of her receipts and expenses. Against one wall of her office, the colored lights on the face of her stereo system flickered softly in time with the spiralling melodies of a baroque concerto. She remembered the first time she had heard this particular piece. It had been a warm summer evening over two hundred years ago... the last pink mists of dusk still lingered over the domes of San Marco and the still waters of the lagoon beyond.. Nicolas had looked particularly handsome in his dark blue coat, a cascade of lace at his throat and wrists... The concerto ended, and Lacroix's silky voice came on. "Good afternoon, gentle listeners. This is the Nightcrawler, and that was Vivaldi's "Concerto for Flute in G", performed by I Solisti Veneti. Ah, how I remember Venice... and a certain dark-haired beauty, dressed in silk and pearls, going to the Opera in a gondola--" What was doing on the air in the middle of the day? Janette raised the remote with a grimace of distaste and pressed the button, cycling through the preprogrammed stations. (At the CERK studios, LaCroix frowned, sensing her little act of rebellion through the threads that bound them together.) The remote ran rapidly through a dismal hodgepodge of sounds: country music [Janette gave a delicate shudder and pressed an immaculately manicured fingers just a little harder on the SCAN button of her remote], easy listening, soft pop, Spanish pop, hard rock, an oldies station... and at the very end of the dial, a talk show. She was about to switch her stereo to CD mode, and resort to a favorite standby, when the talk show host's words caught her attention: "Welcome to Vampires Anonymous, Toronto's only Goth call-in forum. Today's topis is, 'Hiding in Plain Sight,' and I wanna hear from all of you vamps out there, telling me how you do it, leading your double lives. Here's the number to call--" Janette raised an eyebrow in the direction of her speakers, then put the stereo remote back down on her desk. Vampires Anonymous? Ridiculous, of course, but somehow intriguing... The radio host's voice sounded somehow familiar, a calm, reassuring, fatherly sort of voice, the kind of voice that would kiss a twelve-year-old daughter's scraped knee and make it feel all better. Where had she heard that voice before? On impulse, Janette picked up the phone... she bored, after all. And this sounded like an amusing diversion. What harm could there be in it? * * * Scene Two It was a quiet night, and with the business day long over, downtown was almost deserted as Nick's Caddy tooled along Yonge Street, heading towards the apartment block where a possible witness to the Holmes homicide lived. Nick hoped that the young woman would be able to provide them with a description of the convenience-store robber, but he wasn't optimistic. "You know, you're looking pretty run-down these day," Nick commented, as Schanke yawned for the fourth or fifth time in a row. "Maybe you should take a couple of vacation days and get some rest." "I guess I am feeling a bit peaked these days," Schanke admitted, deftly flipping the plastic lid off a styrofoam cup, steam veiling his face as he blew lightly on the hot coffee inside. "Would you believe that I've been holding a second job, as a radio host?" Nick glanced at his car radio, from which strains of Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" were issuing. "You're right, Schank. I believe you." He frowned as Schanke let the plastic lid flutter to the passenger foot well. " And don't you dare leave any of your trash in my car when we get back to the station," he warned. "You have no idea of how horrifying it is to have to fish under the seats for your stray souvlaki and hamburger wrappers." "No, I'm serious," protested Schanke. "About the radio host thing, I mean. I told you that Myra gave up on Skin Pretty cosmetics, right?" Nick nodded. "Yeah." "Well, what happened was, she inherited part ownership in a radio station-- KTOK--from her favorite uncle. And she has this idea in her head that she can actually make it work. So, I've been coralled to do my share, and I've been moonlighting as the host of this really funky show... Nick had a sudden sick suspicion. "What show?" He was afraid of the answer. The "Moonlight Sonata" ended, and Lacroix's voice came on. "Good evening gentle listeners. Are you playing in the moonlight tonight? Are you enjoy--" "Just some show. Speaking of which," Schanke said, leaning forward to fiddle with Nick's car radio, cutting off Lacroix's musings in mid-sentence. Nick could feel his master's frown across the two or three miles that seperated them. "I still can't believe you listen to this guy. Now, if you're really interested in what I've been doing in my off-hours, there's a repeat of this afternoon's broadcast playing right now." He eased the dial indicator along a fraction of centimeter at a time, until, to Nick's utter horror, Janette's sultry voice cames sailing out of the radio. "Hello! My name is 'Lady J', and I hide in plain sight by running a nightclub..." "It's called 'Vampires Anonymous,'" Schanke said with pride. "And you would believe some of the kinky stuff that people are willing to talk about on-air!" Nick's eyes dropped to his radio as Janette's voice continued to discuss her operations at the Raven. How he tell Janette she had been spilling heart and soul to of all people? And how could he convince his partner to stop moonlighting? Because LaCroix never did take competition-- for -- lightly. ÿ