A wooden path ran down the centre of the garden to a sturdy-looking gate at the far end, splitting halfway along to pass round the wide trunk of the tree, then joining back together. Two wide semi-circles of lawn stood either side of the path, and the rest of the garden was filled with a series of overwhelmingly beautiful flowerbeds.
Great sprays of angel’s trumpets and moonflowers bloomed in the darkness, as the scents of lavenders and hyacinths mingled in the air. Creeping clusters of Jacob’s ladder and Adam’s needle shone in the pale moonlight, the white lines standing out brightly, the grey leaves shimmering silver. Jamie looked around, overcome, as Frankenstein watched him, a smile threatening to emerge on his lips.
“Do you like the garden?” asked the chemist, as Frankenstein steered the gawping teenager towards the tree.
“It’s… magnificent,” Jamie said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s because you sleep through the most beautiful part of the day,” said the chemist, a smile of pride on his face. “The darkness hides flaws, and sins; the moon illuminates only the delicate, and the elegant.”
“Who said that?” asked Jamie.
“I did,” grinned the chemist. “Colonel Frankenstein, always a pleasure. Follow me, please, we’ll talk in the lab.”
The vampire floated down the garden, and the two men followed. They walked through the gate, which the chemist opened using a small touchpad concealed behind a curtain of ivy, and stepped on to a concrete path as smooth as a bowling lane. Orange lamps hung in the lower branches of trees, illuminating their destination.
At the end of the path was a long metal building, with flat ends and a rounded canopy that emerged from the ground on both sides. It looked as though someone had buried an incredibly long tin can in the ground. Electric light shone through narrow windows cut into the walls, bathing the surrounding trees in pale white. The vampire turned a handle on a door at the front of the building, held it open, and the two visitors entered the lab.
It was much louder than Jamie had been expecting. The laboratories he was used to were quiet places, with oddly shaped glass beakers bubbling above Bunsen burners.
This room was more like a small factory.
Large extractor fans ran the length of the building on both sides, humming loudly. The chemist passed pairs of plastic goggles to Jamie and Frankenstein, and led them to the end of the room.
Next to a large, vibrating extraction unit stood a bench covered in rectangular blocks of yellow-white powder.
“What’s that?” Jamie asked, inquisitiveness getting the better of him.
The chemist appeared at his shoulder.
“That’s recrystallised heroin base,” the vampire replied. “It’s what my shipments arrive as. I treat them with—”
“He doesn’t need to know the details,” said Frankenstein from behind them, his voice tinged with warning.
Jamie shot him a look full of wounded independence. “I want to know,” he said.
Frankenstein shrugged, turned away, and examined the wall of the lab, where a map of the UK had been hung. It was covered in yellow circles, some of them overlapping each other, that covered almost every inch of the country.
The chemist smiled at Jamie. “It’s heartening to see a boy who wants to learn about the world,” he said, then guided Jamie to a second bench on which sat six shallow plastic bowls. Two were half full of a clear liquid; the other four contained a thick white solution.
“This is sulphuric acid,” he continued, motioning at the clear liquid. “The heroin is dissolved into it, then we add methyl alcohol, then ether, and that leaves us with this.”
He gestured to the tanks with the white liquid in them.
“The mixture stands until it begins to crystallise, then I add more ether, as well as... the final ingredient... and then leave it until it becomes solid. What you’re left with is Bliss, about 75% pure.”
“The final ingredient?” asked Jamie.
The vampire smiled, and guided Jamie to a third bench, which held seven large plastic containers filled with a dark red liquid. “This is what makes Bliss into Bliss,” said the chemist, with obvious pride.
“Blood?” said Jamie.
“Of course,” smiled the chemist. “Human blood, mixed into the heroin before it solidifies. Seven different types, for seven different drugs. A, AB, B and O; the basics, the cheap stuff. O negative, A1 negative and OB positive for my premium customers.”
“What’s so special about them?” asked Jamie.
“They’re rare,” said Frankenstein, his voice booming in the enclosed space. “They’re not so easy to acquire.”
“Easier than you might imagine,” said the vampire, smiling oddly at the monster, before returning his gaze to Jamie. “The last batch of the day needs to go into the acid,” he said. “Would you care to do the honours?”
Jamie could feel the disapproving heat of Frankenstein’s gaze on the back of his neck, and knew the monster was watching him, waiting to see what he would do next.
“Cool,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
The vampire supervised as Jamie lit the burners under the two bowls of acid, then carefully spooned the yellow-white powder into them, being careful not to drop it from a height that might cause the liquid to splash, putting each spoonful into a new bowl so none of them were overfilled. Once the bowls were bubbling away gently, the question that had been nagging at Jamie for several minutes burst to the surface.
“Where do you get all this stuff? If it’s just you out here on your own, where does it all come from?”
The chemist smiled at him.
“An excellent question, young man,” he replied. “The heroin base comes from Myanmar, and the blood comes from the National Health Service of this fine country of ours. As to how it all arrives here, unmolested, so to speak, I suggest you ask you partner.”
Jamie turned to Frankenstein, who flinched, ever so slightly. “Not now,” he said, sharply. “There are more important things to discuss.”
The chemist raised his hands, deferentially. “By all means,” he said. “I so enjoyed seeing someone take an interest in my work that I forgot to even ask you why you were here. I presume you are looking for information of some kind?”
Frankenstein nodded. “Alexandru,” he replied. “We need to know where he is. I thought you might have heard something, from one of your dealers, or your customers.”
He almost spat the final word, his face drawn into a grimace of distaste, and the chemist’s mouth narrowed.
“I’m afraid I haven’t heard anything,” the chemist replied, and it felt to Jamie as though the temperature in the lab had lowered by several degrees.
On the bench next to Jamie, one of the bowls of sulphuric acid began to bubble violently. The chemist moved towards it, and Frankenstein’s hand slipped to the handle of the T-Bone on his belt. The vampire stopped and stared at him.
“I don’t believe you,” said the monster, evenly. “I wonder why that is?”
“Perhaps it’s because of your suspicious nature,” replied the chemist. “Or perhaps it’s because you’re not stupid, and you know full well that anyone who knows anything about the three brothers is going to lie to you.”
He took another step towards Jamie, and Frankenstein pulled