Black Mother Blues
Black Mother Blues
“She killed Catherine Madison? A Slayer barely from her mother's teat?” Richard Wilkins asked incredulously.
Hezekiah Bullfinch, one of his many spies in the town's supernatural society, nodded uneasily. “I fear so, your Honorship.”
“However did she manage that? I mean, defeating the Harvest, that was expected, those are vampires, and not too clever at that. But Catherine Madison, killed by a mere child and her bumbling Watcher? Are you sure nobody else was involved?”
“Yes, your Mayorality, sir,” Hezekiah reported. “Except for the lil' redhead and her sidekick, the kids who was with them at the Harvest, your Wilkinsness.”
Wilkins counted very slowly to one hundred, in Navaho. “The little redheaded girl. The Rosenberg girl? She is still friends with the Slayer? The Slayer is not part of the Chase girl's group?”
“The brunette one who’s been growing right melons? No, your mighty Honorship.”
Wilkins ignored the uncouth remark about the girl’s pectoral development and wondered if killing Bullfinch would encourage the others to do better, or if his death would merely throw them into confusion. The problem was that he lacked really good, loyal minions. Finch was good enough, but he still had vestiges of conscience, and he was not fully conversant with all Richard Wilkins I to through III's plans. Perhaps it was time to induct him into the great secrets.
“Thank you, Hezekiah. That will be all.”
Hezekiah nodded and left. Wilkins sighed and pushed his intercom. “Miss Banner, would you kindly bring me the file on Buffy Summers? Thank you.”
Within two minutes Miss Banner was in his room, file in hand. “I apologize for the delay, Mr. Mayor; I was just adding to it and thought you would prefer it complete.”
Wilkins nodded. “Quite correct, thank you Miss Banner.” His gaze followed the woman as she left and closed the door. She was a neat, organized, highly intelligent woman; if she had a modicum of ambition and, hah, life, she would be an ideal second, but regrettably she had been dead for fifteen years or so, which limited her usefulness to clerical duties, as her mind had set in the patterns of her life.
Richard leafed through the file, getting reacquainted with the facts within. There was no easily perceivable reason why the girl was a thorn in his side. Not that she actually was; nothing she had done so far actually hindered him. No, she was unpredictable, and Richard Wilkins liked things in his town to be predictable.
“The Rosenberg girl is still part of her clique. So is the Harris boy. But as long as both remain ignorant of their heritage, that should not be too much of a problem. The Watcher has some nice dark deeds in his past. He might be worth investigating further, despite not being willing to take a bribe.”
He saw no news on the girl; he would have to add the fact the group had defeated Catherine Madison to the file. *Will it be safe enough to call her by name, I wonder?* ”
Pulchritudia Black!” he said out loud. “Our Lady of Darkness!”
Neither appellation caused the frisson of power to run up and down his spine that it usually did. Whatever had happened to her, Pulchritudia Black was well and truly unable to affect him. That was a nice thought. Even Vail had trodden very carefully around the woman.
He came to the latest addition to the file, the very last page, the two pages on the Slayer’s mother. Joyce Summers had joined the Sunnydale Chamber of Commerce, and had actually challenged Victor Chase during a meeting. Interesting. The next meeting was scheduled for the next week, when the first preparations for the Holiday season were going to be discussed. Halloween, Veterans Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas... So much money to be made. Richard decided it might be wise for him to be there, to press the flesh and get to know the opposition’s mother. He made a note to bring plenty of wipes. He turned back to the first page of the file and looked at the picture of the Slayer, small, blonde, ditzy.
The notion that such a slip of a girl could defeat Pulchritudia Black… Inconceivable.