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Winnifred.
    â€œThere's a charming little bistro called the Belfry at the corner of Eldritch and Eerie, very near the south end of Central Park. I know the owner, and he can give us a private room where we won't be overheard while exchanging information.”
    Mallory looked at Winnifred. “What do you think?”
    â€œI suppose it's as good a place to meet as any,” she replied.
    â€œOkay,” said Mallory, walking to the door. “There's no sense our hanging around until your crew shows up. We might as well get busy.”
    â€œI'll see you at twelve thirty,” said Winnifred. “Or perhaps sooner, if it's a successful hunt.”
    McGuire accompanied Mallory to the elevator, and a moment later they walked out into the night.
    â€œAll right,” said Mallory. “You're the vampire expert. Where would a young, very frightened almost-vampire go?”
    â€œI've been a vampire since I was seven years old,” said McGuire, “but if it was just occurring now, I'd seek out other vampires to find out what was happening to me, what kind of life I was facing.”
    â€œMakes sense,” agreed Mallory. “Where is he likely to find the greatest concentration of vampires?”
    â€œI should think the answer would be obvious,” replied McGuire.
    â€œThe zoo?” suggested Mallory.
    â€œOf course not,” said the little vampire.
    â€œMaybe some graveyard?”
    McGuire shook his head. “No. There's only one place he'll go—the Vampire State Building.”
    â€œThe Vampire State Building,” repeated Mallory, staring at him. “You're kidding, right?”
    â€œAm I smiling?” replied McGuire.

It was the Empire State Building in the Manhattan Mallory had left behind, but as he was constantly discovering at the most inopportune times, he wasn't in his Manhattan anymore.
    If he'd had any doubts, they were dispelled when he and McGuire came to the front entrance. Like most office buildings, it had a uniformed doorman. Unlike most, this one hung upside down from the top of the doorway.
    â€œHi, Boris,” said McGuire. “I wonder if you can help us out?”
    â€œSure,” said the doorman, stifling a guffaw. “Which way did you come in?”
    â€œBoris fancies himself a humorist,” explained McGuire.
    â€œNo problem,” replied Mallory. “I've got a fat seventy-three-year-old aunt who fancies herself a sexpot.”
    â€œBoris, this is my friend, John Justin Mallory,” began McGuire. “He—”
    â€œMallory?” repeated the doorman, pushing off and somehow landing lightly on his feet. “You're the guy who found that unicorn?”
    â€œYeah,” said the detective. “Pleased to meet you.”
    â€œHas he…uh…joined the club?” asked Boris.
    â€œNo,” answered McGuire. “At least not yet. We're here on a case.”
    â€œYou're working for him?”
    â€œLike I said, he's my friend. I'm just helping him out.”
    â€œOkay,” said Boris. “Got a nice broad neck, though.”
    â€œIf anyone nabs him in the neck, it'll be me,” said McGuire. “Now, are you gonna listen to him or not?”
    â€œDon't go getting offended,” said Boris. “It was an honest question. What can I do for you, Mr. Mallory?”
    â€œI'm looking for a young man who's run away,” replied Mallory. “About five feet eight, maybe a hundred and sixty pounds, brown hair, brown eyes, couple of puncture marks on his neck. His name's Rupert Newton.”
    â€œYou sure he's run away?” asked the doorman. “I mean, if he's one of us, he could have flown the coop, so to speak.”
    â€œI don't think he's a fully fledged member of your fraternity yet,” said Mallory. “My guess is he'd want to seek out some vampires and find out what's been done to him, what he can do about it, what he can look forward to.”
    â€œWell,