Dear Boss - Chapter 3

12th September 1888 - Whitechapel, London

Dorset Street, Spitalfields

"Forget."

The young woman's eyes rolled as she closed them and fell into a deep sleep. Antonio straightened up, licking his lips and walked away from his latest victim. She was still alive. Antonio had learned a long time ago that if he didn't kill every one of his meals, he would be able to stay in one place longer. Also, if a person had exceptional blood, keeping them alive would be akin to having a bottomless bottle of fine wine. Most of his victims tended to wake up after a prolonged nap with a terrible headache, a good trade-off for their lives.

This women had in particular had offered to sell him some exquisite tomatoes! They were big and juicy, almost exactly like those in his native land. He was so captivated by them that he took her then and there. As a vampire, eating mortal food wasn't a necessity but Antonio still ate when he could. Besides, he couldn't live (no pun intended) without his Las Magras con Tomate*. As he left, he took a bag of said tomatoes and placed some money where she can find it. He stepped out of the building he was in. The night air was crisp and cool, he would eat outdoors today!

"Well, well, if it isn't the traveller Antonio. Fancy seeing you leaving such an establishment."

Antonio turned, he had recognized the voice almost immediately. Sure enough, Arthur was approaching him. And he was wearing his police uniform.

"Arturo! Hola, mi amigo*! Working late I see."

Arthur ignored his statement and said: "I didn't know you had an interest in ladybirds*," he had a smirk on his face.

"¿Qué*?" It took him a few seconds to figure it out. He looked like he just left a brothel. And Arthur had seen him. "Arthur, mi amigo! I…… eh……" he couldn't believe this, he was centuries older that the policeman in front of him yet he was stuttering like a kid! "It… it's not what it looks like!" He said as he raised his hand in front of him. "I'm innocent, Arturo! I was shopping!"

Arthur had raised an eyebrow in an attempt to look stern, but his smirk betrayed him.

"It that what they call it where you come from?" he reached for something on his belt, I'm afraid that doesn't absolve you from your crime, amigo. You are under arrest." Arthur produced a pair of handcuffs as he walked towards Antonio, now it was the vampire's turn to smirk. This was going to be fun.

Antonio remained where he was until he saw the flash of metal indicating that Arthur was near. At the last second, he merely stepped out of the way, causing policemen to stumble.

"Wanker!"

"So Arthur, may I ask why the chief of police is out here in this secluded corner when there is crime elsewhere in London?" Antonio asked, in the tone one would use to discuss the weather. Arthur made another go at him. Once again, the vampire side-stepped him easily, still holding on to the bag of tomatoes. "I mean, it can't be just to harass a poor, innocent tourist." He said as he out-manoeuvred the policeman a third, fourth and fifth time.

Arthur was panting. "You're pretty nimble for a mere tourist," he said suspiciously.

"¿Qué? Me? I'm Spanish, we bullfight and run with the bulls once a year. I have to be, no?" said Antonio with an innocent face. "So, are you going to answer my question now? Why are you here?"

"The police force is tightening security around the area in case the Whitechapel murderer strikes again." Arthur answered immediately. "Dammit!" He covered his mouth with his gloved hand, "I wasn't supposed to say that! Why is it I such a blower* when I'm near you!?"

Antonio just smiled.

"Hmph, bloody tourist," Arthur said as he straightened up, "Fine, I believe you. You're lucky I'm in a good mood." He had given up and was walking away, he looked back, "Otherwise, I would've slapped a drag* on you."

Antonio watched Arthur's slowly disappearing figure. The man did not remember a thing from two nights ago. He didn't know whether to be relieved or mad. "You were so much more fun when you were drunk," he pouted. He took out a tomato from the bag and bit into it as he walked the opposite direction.

For the past couple of days, Antonio had been sneaking into Arthur's apartment and reading some of his personal police reports. Though Arthur's was particularly detailed, he needed the complete reports to obtain what he needs, full undisclosed information about what the police call "The Whitechapel Murders". And for that, he needed to break into the police station, the very one Arthur was in. It was also disheartening that Arthur was never there.

Antonio wanted the Brit under his power.

He wanted to feel him.

He wanted to feed on him.

He wanted to taste his blood as it flowed down his throat.

So why did he let this chance slip by!?

He sighed, he knew the answer. Taunting the Brit was fun, and the flustered blush that creeped onto the Englishman's face while he did it was simply too cute!

Antonio walked on, still munching on a tomato but all that thinking had made him lose his appetite, both normal and supernatural.

"¡Ay, Dios mío*! What is going on with me!?" He threw the tomato behind him.

Three seconds later, he heard an angry outburst.

"OI! WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL BASTARD!" A voice yelled.

Antonio looked behind him, in an alley, 5 feet away, he saw a red-faced Italian.

With an equally red tomato on his head.

---

*19th century British slang:*
Ladybird - Prostitute
Blower -  Informer
Drag - A three month gaol sentence

*Spanish:*
Las Magras con Tomate  - An Aragonese cuisine from the Aragon region of Spain. It's mainly slices of slightly fried serrano ham dipped in tomato sauce served.
¿Qué? - "Huh?" or "What?"
Hola, mi amigo - Hello, my friend
¡Ay, Dios mío! - Oh my God!