“Mr. Otto ran a feed lot in Omaha,” Czarnecki said. “His daughter, Iris, disappeared one day in I believe it was 1922 and turned up later drained of blood. The police couldn’t come up with any suspects, and after a while they stopped looking. Mr. Otto started searching on his own, determined to find whoever’d killed Iris. What he eventually uncovered was something almost beyond his ken.”

“Vampires,” I said, mockingly.

“Call them that, call them rovers, call them whatever you want,” Czarnecki said. “But they do exist: bloodthirsty creatures that prey on humans. Once Mr. Otto discovered them, he set out to destroy as many as he could. It was a crusade, good against evil, and he’d been at it thirty years when he visited me in Carson City and showed me this.”

Czarnecki reached under his shirt for a gold ring hanging on a chain around his neck.

“This belonged to Marjorie,” he said. “One of the monsters Mr. Otto killed was wearing it. Her name and mine are engraved inside, and that’s how he tracked me down. I was skeptical, as I said before. I even thought he might have killed Marjorie himself. But then he took me on a hunt, and I pretty damn quick became a believer.”

Czarnecki paused to catch his breath. I noticed how his hands shook when he lifted his glass, how dull his eye was. He’s sick, I thought. He’s coming to the end of his time.

“Mr. Otto was sixty then,” he continued. “He was looking for someone to take over for him. We hunted together until he passed away, and I kept going on my own. I knew I’d never get the fucker that murdered Marjorie, but there were plenty more to send to hell. My aim was to wipe out every bloodsucker on the planet. I didn’t get there, but maybe you will.”

“Me?” I said. “Not me.”

“What was your son’s name?” Czarnecki said.

“Leave him out of this,” I said.

“Benny,” Czarnecki said. “You hear Benny calling to you, don’t you? You hear him begging for revenge.”

“I don’t hear anything except the nonsense of a crazy old drunk,” I said.

The stuffed head of a bear snarled at me from above the fireplace, and the wooden floor quaked beneath my chair. My hands were balled into sweaty fists as I stood and hurried for the door. I felt like I was walking with someone else’s feet.

“I’m going hunting tonight,” Czarnecki said. “If you want more proof what I’ve told you is true, come along.”