“How many members are there in the Dark Knights?” I asked as innocently as I could, which was not very innocently, considering that I look like the pug who stands behind Edward G. Robinson in Warners gangster movies. You know the guy I mean, the one who never talks, looks like an ex-welterweight, and sticks his chin out every once in a while to show he’s earning his living.

“We’re a secret, very exclusive organization,” Billings said, defensively reaching for a handful of crackers.

“You mean there’s just the five of you?” I said with a friendly smile. He fanged some crackers and gave a small nod to show I had calculated correctly.

One of the four vampires around Lugosi looked over at me. He was tall and dark, the most formidable-looking member of the group. I looked back at him with my innocent brown eyes and a mouth full of warm Pepsi. He turned slowly away.

“Are you interested in joining?” Billings said eagerly.

“I don’t know.” I shifted my weight on the coffin to reach for the last of the crackers. Billings’ hand indicated the impulse to race me for the remnants, but courtesy and the possibility of new blood stayed his chunky grasp.

“These people are the only ones who know about the meetings?”

Billings put down his now-finished Hires, stifled a burp, and said, “We are secret and exclusive.”

I turned my head to the group of vampires and Lugosi, whose eyes moved from his tormentors to me to the door.

“Can you tell me who everyone is?” I said, looking casually around and trying not to choke on my cracker.

“Certainly,” said Billings. “There’s Baroness Zendelia, Sir Malcolm.” “No,” I pushed in. “Their real names.”

“No,” Billings countered, sitting up to his full five foot five. “That is private. Our human identities must remain secret.”

“Then how do you mail notices to them?” I tried, but Billings had other things on his mind.