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then, he's come to the right place.”
    â€œHave you seen him?”
    â€œNo,” answered Boris. “But then, my vision isn't what it used to be. Before the change, I mean.” He paused. “I suppose he could be here.”
    â€œHe'd have shown up in the last ten or fifteen minutes.”
    â€œIt's possible, then,” said Boris. “I was off having a bite”—McGuire giggled at his choice of words—“until about two minutes before you showed up.”
    â€œIt's a big building,” said Mallory. “Where would he be most likely to go?”
    â€œWell, it is our holy night, so most of the offices are closed,” answered Boris. “If he's here at all, he'll be on the ninetieth floor.”
    â€œWhy the ninetieth?”
    â€œIt's the only one that's open.”
    â€œThanks,” said Mallory, stepping through the doorway and into the building. “If you see him coming out, do me a favor and grab him until I can catch up with you.”
    â€œGrab him?” Boris's left eyelid began twitching and the muscles in his jaw tightened. “With pleasure.”
    â€œOne other thing,” said Mallory, turning back to the doorman. “Does Aristotle Draconis work in this building?”
    Boris shrugged. “Check the registry. We've got thirty thousand people working here.” He paused. “Well, some of them are people,” he added.
    â€œCome on, Bats,” said Mallory, heading off to the elevator.
    McGuire scurried after the detective, and a moment later the doors slid shut behind them. The small enclosure was immediately flooded with music.
    â€œâ€˜Strangers in the Night,’” commented McGuire as he identified the tune. “Ah, the memories that brings back!”
    Mallory frowned. “I don't remember anything in the lyrics about biting.”
    â€œWhat a kidder!” said McGuire. “Next, you'll be telling me it's supposed to be a love song.”
    â€œI wouldn't dream of it.”
    The song ended as they passed the sixtieth floor, to be replaced by another.
    â€œAh!” said McGuire with a happy smile. “‘Fangs for the Memory.’”
    â€œSo what are we likely to find on the ninetieth floor?” asked Mallory.
    The little vampire shrugged. “Trial lawyers, literary agents, all the usual bloodsuckers. I mean, it is the Vampire State Building.”
    â€œSomehow I don't think Rupert would be looking for a lawyer or an agent.”
    â€œNo sense guessing what we'll find,” announced McGuire as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. “We're here.”
    The first thing Mallory saw was a huge poster announcing that a band named Vlad and the Impalers would be performing on All Hallows' Eve at the annual Zombies' Ball.
    â€œVlad and the Impalers?” said Mallory. “Are they serious?”
    â€œThey're the hot new group,” McGuire informed him. “Though it'll be tough to top last year's band.”
    â€œLet me guess: Lassie and the Wolfwomen?”
    â€œSilly name,” said McGuire. “No, it was Igor and the Graverobbers.”
    â€œIt figures,” muttered Mallory.
    â€œPersonally, I always liked Guy Lombardo,” admitted McGuire, “but one has to keep up with the times.”
    â€œWell, let's look around and see who or what's up here,” said Mallory, walking past the poster. He found himself in a broad corridor lined with offices and tasteful store windows. He walked past a couple of doors, then stopped and read the neatly printed sign in a small window. “‘Bat Ecology for the Newly Changed.’”
    â€œThat certainly sounds likely,” agreed McGuire. “No, wait.”
    He pointed to a little note taped to the door: Closed for the holiday .
    Next was an AAA office. “American Auto Association?” suggested Mallory. “What the hell would they be doing in the Vampire State