the vampire murder case (part forty-two)

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Later, when I was nearly asleep, she tapped me on the shoulder. "Marshall?"

I made a noncommittal noise, as if I might be Marshall, but I might be someone else.

"I have a question," she said.

l was tempted to sigh, but that would have been rude, so I didn't.

"Come here," I said, and she rested her head on my shoulder, her long legs pressed against mine. "What's your question?" I asked, putting my arm around her.

"Am I wrong?"

"About what?" I asked, not mentioning that this was the first time she had ever asked me this question.

"Should I be telling people there are no vampires? Even though I'm not sure it's true?"

"Why would you want to tell people something that isn't true?"

"So nobody panics and does something stupid." She shook her head. "It was easier when all I had to do was solve the mystery and write the article."

"I think you're handling it the right way," I said. "For one thing, just making the blanket statement that there aren't any vampires won't convince the people who are the most likely to panic. For another thing, if you do say that and then it turns out that you're wrong, then you've lost their trust." I hugged her. "Do you want to be a reporter, looking for the truth, or do you want to be a politician?"

I felt her chuckle. "You know the answer to that."

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About Anthony Lee Collins

I write.
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