by Simon Hawke
"All right, Moreau," said Steiger, aiming his weapon down at him. "Get up and stand away from them."
"No!" said Jasmine, throwing herself in front of Moreau. Doyle and Stoker slowly got back up to their feet, stunned by what they had just seen.
"You made an agreement, Colonel Steiger," said Lin Tao from behind them. "I will expect you to honor it."
He stood just behind Andre, pinching her with his thumb and forefinger at the base of the skull, exerting tremendous pressure. She stood stiffened, paralyzed, trembling slightly. With his other hand, he plucked the disruptor from her grip,
then released her. She collapsed to her knees with a gasp of pain.
"Rest assured, she has not been seriously injured," said Lin Tao, aiming the disruptor at Steiger. "However, I perceive that the extent of injury given by this device cannot be controlled quite so precisely. I have closely observed its use. It does not seem to require much skill. Please lower your weapons."
As they complied, Delaney, who stood closest, launched a kick, but Lin Tao's aim didn't even waver. In one smooth motion, he stepped back and used his free hand to impel more motion to Delaney's foot, so that Delaney was carried off balance by the force of his own kick and straight up into the air. For a fraction of a second, he seemed to hang horizontal in midair, then he crashed to the floor, flat on his back.
Moreau took advantage of the distraction to grab Jasmine and quickly activate his warp disc. Doyle and Stoker stared in disbelief as Moreau and Jasmine disappeared.
"Did you see it?" Stoker said. "I cannot believe my eyes! They simply vanished! How . . ." He shook his head, unable to go on.
"I do not know how, old friend." said Doyle, "but wherever that man has gone, he could have escaped in such a manner at any time. It seems he stayed for us. Whoever he was, we owe him our lives."
"We promised not to kill him. Lin Tao," said Forrester. "but we can't let him go free. We're grateful for your help, but you know we'll have to hunt him down. He's a dangerous man."
"Perhaps General, in an earlier life. he was," Lin Tao said, "but he is no longer. He has left behind his work, his world, indeed everything he knows. I understand how he must feel. I know what it means to become cast adrift in a new world. All he wants is to find a small, insignificant place for himself in it. He may have nothing left of his old world, but in this new one, he has at least found friends and that, I have learned over my long years, is priceless and most valuable. He has suffered more from his own conscience than from any punishment you could inflict upon him. Have you never made a mistake, General, for which you could not forgive yourself?"
Forrester held the old man's gaze for a long moment, then he looked away.
"You will have much to do here," Lin Tao said. "And you have your warp discs to take you back to where you came from. The passage through time which leads here from the warehouse shall be destroyed. And this weapon I have taken
shall be delivered to your friends at the Charing Cross Hotel. I give you my word
that you have nothing to fear from myself or Phillipe Moreau. I have fulfilled my part of the bargain. All I ask is that you honor yours. I do not think that we shall meet again. Goodbye."
He bowed very slightly, never taking his eyes off them, and backed away towards the room at the far end of the corridor on the upper floor, which contained the mate to the chronoplate hack in the warehouse. The moment he was out of sight. Steiger lunged after him.
"Steiger!" said Forester.
"Sir, if we hurry, he won't have time to—"
"As you were."
Steiger looked as if he were about to say something, but he clenched his fists and took a deep breath, let it out slowly and said, "Yes, sir."
Forrester glanced at Finn and Andre.
"You think I'm making a mistake?" he said.
Delaney shrugged. "If you did, we'll probably find out about it sooner or later. I do know we never would've gotten here without their help."
"I don't know if I could ever trust Moreau." said Andre. "But I think I can trust that strange old man:*
"He does put that out, doesn't he?" said Forrester.
Steiger shook his head. "If you ask me, I think you're all crazy," he said. He glanced down at Doyle and Stoker, who stood looking up at them like two lost little boys. "And I'd hate to ask them what they think."
Andre looked at Doyle and Stoker, then turned back to Forrester. "I think we've got a problem, sir."
Delaney snorted. "So what else is new?"
Grayson smelled the smoke as he came into the courtyard. He blew several
sharp blasts on his whistle, then broke into a run as he saw the flames start to lick up
from the warehouse roof. In a moment, he saw that putting out the fire would be impossible. By the time the fire department arrived, it would be all that they could do to save the neighboring buildings. And then he froze when he saw what was nailed to the warehouse door.
Smoke streamed from the cracks around the wooden warehouse door. framing the body of Tony Hesketh, which was nailed to the door by an iron railroad spike driven through its chest. The corpse's head lolled grotesquely on its neck, blood and from the corner of its mouth, open to reveal long, protruding canine teeth.
Tremayne came running, up to stand beside him, " Jesus. Mary and Joseph!" he said. And then words failed him.
Sparks shot high into the air, swirling like swarms of fireflies. The building groaned as the flames destroyed it and wood cracked as the roof started to fall in. The door started to burn and as the flames licked at the body, Grayson stood and stared at the dark green ribbon tied around the end of the iron spike.
E P I L O G U E
They sat around the table in the dining room of Number 7 Mornington Place. Amy Robbins. soon to be Mrs. Wells, brought in the coffee and biscuits.
"And so that is where we stand, gentlemen," Forrester was saying. "And, of course. Miss Robbins. I have the means to compel you to forget the parts you played in this incredible experience, but there are certain complications associated with the process—think of it as a sort of hypnotism, if you will—risks I would prefer not to incur or even to discuss with you at length. Such a radical. . . 'enforced forgetfulness,' for lack of a simpler way of describing it to you, could have certain unforeseen effects upon the personality. Since you are all highly creative individuals, that is a chance I would not wish to take. However, I hope I have made you see the importance of never revealing what you know to anyone, not under any circumstances."
"I quite understand, General," said Doyle, "and you have my word. Even if we were to tell anyone about what we have seen, who in their right mind would believe it? Although, I must admit, the idea of pitting Holmes against a vampire has a certain charm to it."
"I thought you had grown tired of him'?" Stoker said. "Don't tell me you now plan to resurrect him from the dead?" he added with a grin.
Doyle cleared his throat. "Well, who knows?" he said. "Perhaps the old chap never really died. Watson was never the keenest of observers, after all. And even if I were to write such a story, it would necessarily stress the rational over the supernatural, the truth over the fanciful. And as I knew right from the beginning, there was a rational answer to this perplexing case. An answer, perhaps, that is impossible for those of us in this time to fully comprehend, but a rational answer nonetheless. We were not confronted with the walking dead. There was a scientific explanation."
"Still," said Stoker, "there is something compelling about the notion of a dark, Satanic afterlife, a living hell on earth."
"I will leave such musings to your somewhat overly romantic soul." said Doyle dryly. "For my part, I am content to have seen this nightmare brought to a conclusion. Grayson believes that he has found his killers with the help of the Green Dragon tong and if he is puzzled by the riddle of the mysterious American scholars who have disappeared without a trace, then it will give him something to dwell upon in his retirement someday. The one mystery which he could neve
r solve."
"Unlike Holmes, who solved them all, is that it?" Stoker said.
"Well ... perhaps that yet remains to be seen. And as for Moreau, well, good luck to him, I say."
"You've been very quiet, Wells," said Stoker. "You've hardly said a word all evening. I don't know about you, but for my part, I do not know if I would object greatly to this process of 'enforced forgetfulness' the general has spoken of. I will have nightmares about this experience for years to come."
"I suspect I will have dreams, as well," said Wells, "but of a rather different sort."
"Will we see any of you again?" said Amy Robbins.
“I trust that you will not misunderstand and take offense, Miss Robbins, if I say that I sincerely hope not?" Forester said.
She smiled. "No offense taken, General." she said. "Thank you all for all that you have done. Especially you. Miss Craven, and Mr. Neilson, for looking after me."
"It was our pleasure. Miss Robbins," said Neilson.
"And please give my thanks and my regards to that strange, invisible man," she said.
Wells frowned slightly and looked thoughtful.
"There yet remains one final question to which we do not have an answer," Doyle said. "We know about the poor creatures who were killed back at the castle and we know about their victims who had died, but what of their
victims who survived? If they had attacked people and failed to kill them, will
they not also develop the same blood-craving disease?"
"We will remain on the alert for any further murders of this nature, Dr. Doyle," said Forester, "as, I trust, shall you. You could be of invaluable continued service to us in this regard. We will not rest until we have established to our satisfaction that this threat has been eliminated once and for all."
"I will, of course, be glad to help in any way I can “said Doyle. "I will never forget the sight that greeted us when we descended once again into those dungeons. The way those creatures tore several of their own number apart in their frenzy of destruction, it was like a slaughterhouse!"
"Parts of bodies scattered everywhere." said Stoker, "the remains unrecognizable. I cannot help but wonder, how can we be certain that among them were Count Dracula's remains? The idea haunts me. He could be there still, somewhere in those labyrinthine dungeons, still alive and waiting."
They all stared at him uneasily.
"I just cannot help but wonder," Stoker said, "if we have truly seen the last of him."
The bell rang over the door and a sallow, thin-featured, clean-shaven man dressed in a dark tweed overcoat and howler hat entered the apothecary shop. He smiled at the young woman behind the counter. She was several months pregnant and just beginning to show.
"Good afternoon, sir." Jasmine said.
"Good afternoon, Madame," Grayson said. "I wonder, might I speak with your husband?"
"Certainly, sir," said Jasmine, not thinking that there was anything odd about the man's request. There were many times when gentlemen had problems of a very private nature that they were reluctant to discuss with a woman. "One moment please and I will bring him."
She stepped through the curtains leading to the back rooms and a moment later, a slightly built man with prematurely grey hair came out, wiping his hands on a leather apron. Grayson was surprised to see that he was not an Oriental.
"Yes, sir." said Moreau. "My wife said you wished to see me? How may I assist you?"
Grayson frowned. "Perhaps I have made some sort of mistake." he said. "I was expecting someone else, an older gentleman, a . . . that is, well ... excuse me, you are the proprietor here?"
"Ah." said Moreau, "you must mean my wife's grandfather, Lin Tao. One moment, I will ask him to come in.”
Moreau disappeared behind the curtains and came back a moment later with Lin Tao.
The old man gave him a slight bow. "Good afternoon,” he said. "Excuse me, perhaps my memory fails me. but I do not recall that we have met before."
"No. we have never actually met," said Grayson. "But you might say that our paths have missed on numerous occasions."
He reached into his pocket and took out a length of singed, dark green ribbon. He held it out across the counter to Lin Tao.
"I am Chief Inspector William Grayson of Scotland Yard," he said.
Lin Tao regarded him steadily. "Yes," he said. "I know."
"It took me a very long time to find you." Grayson said, putting the ribbon down on the wooden countertop. "I did not come here in an official capacity I believe I owe you a great debt of gratitude and I have come to thank you. And also to ask a favor, I have had difficulty sleeping these past few months."
"Perhaps a preparation of tincture of opium and belladonna would be the solution to your problem," Lin Tao said.
Grayson smiled. "No, I do not think so. However, I think the answers to some puzzling questions which have kept me up at night for weeks on end might do the trick."
The two men held each other's gaze for a long time. Then the ghost of a smile appeared on Lin Tao's face and he gave a slight nod.
"In that case Inspector Grayson, perhaps you would like to join us for tea?"
