The Holmes-Dracula File Fred Saberhagen (feel good fiction books txt) 📖

property. I had just ascertained that the trunk was still locked, when I heard soft stirrings of human life somewhere behind me, as of several people entering an adjacent room. These sounds I ignored, until a door at my back began to open quietly.

   I turned, smiling to greet my benefactor, only to behold three men, two of them holding pistols aimed in my direction whilst the third gripped some kind of cudgel. In a moment, an exceptionally lovely young woman had come through the door behind them, and stood there gazing at me as at an enemy.

   The thin, intense man who was poised a little in advance of all the others said: “These weapons, sir, are for our own protection only.”

   “Indeed?” I responded. “Even with odds of three to one? What makes you think I mean you harm—and why are you all so timid on this fine June morning?” The clouds of dawn had blown away, and somewhere in a garden birds were twittering.

   “We were more timid, still, in last night’s darkness,” he answered, and in his voice there was a meaning that I with great foolishness left unread With casual contempt I turned my back on them, and bent once more to the examination of my trunk

   And I froze in that position, when he added in an incisive tone: “Let us play games no longer. I shall be greatly pleased to hear from your own lips, Count Dracula, the truth of how Frau Grafenstein came to her end.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

   We carried Sally Craddock straight to hospital from where she had been struck down. For several hours she lingered, Holmes and I both remaining at her bedside, and then she died without regaining consciousness. Meanwhile the driver of the dray-wagon was apprehended, but as he had been himself very severely injured in the capsizing of his vehicle, he was in no condition to be seriously questioned. Holmes recognized him at once as a minor criminal and bully.

   “Of course they knew she was in the station, Watson—somehow they knew. This choice specimen was assigned to wait outside, and was quick enough to seize his chance when it came. I feel responsible for giving him that chance. I did not foresee that Sally Craddock would see the vampire’s face in mine, or would react as she did to the sight.”

   “How could you have foreseen anything of the kind? In her brief statement to the police she described the—the killer—as being friendly and helpful to her. ‘Gentlemanly’ was another word she used, was it not?” Lestrade had brought a copy of her first and only declaration to the hospital for us to see.

   Holmes shook his head. “I should have suspected, though, that he might have inspired in her a fear and loathing that ran very deep.* It is the other side of the coin of the damnable attractiveness that these creatures possess for women. Those punctures on her throat were not made by horses’ hooves or a wagon’s wheels.”

   * The whole question of Sally Craddock’s true motive in fleeing the police station, if it is to be raised at all, deserves more space than is here available. I will only remark that it is a large assumption to make, that Watson invariably records Holmes’ statements accurately. —D.

   To this I suppose I must have stammered some reply. Shortly thereafter I returned to Baker Street, while Holmes hurled himself with feverish energy into activities of which I was able to observe only a small part. He was in and out of our lodgings repeatedly for the rest of the day. On each return he asked if there were any messages, and replied to my own questions brusquely if at all.

   It was evening before he came in and stayed long enough to make it worthwhile taking off his hat. He threw himself into a chair, sought solace in strong tobacco, and altogether gave an impression of deep, struggling thought combined with near-exhaustion. I prevailed upon him to take a little food, and shortly thereafter, to my great relief, he retired, very early, for the night.

   That night I found myself unable to sleep much. Up early the following morning, I peeped in cautiously on Holmes and saw with satisfaction that he still slumbered.

   I had just finished my breakfast when two gentlemen were announced, and it was with some surprise that I greeted Lord Godalming and Dr. Seward. I had not seen them and had scarcely thought of them since the affair at Barley’s. Looking now at their faces, which were both somewhat grimly set, I asked: “May I take it, gentlemen, that this visit is not purely social?”

   “It is not.” Jack Seward exchanged glances with his companion, then went on: “Our business concerns a matter of great delicacy, but I am sure you will understand that it is one which cannot be allowed to pass in silence.”

   “Perhaps it is Sherlock Holmes whom you really wish to see. I am afraid he is not available for consultation at present.” When I ordered breakfast, I had taken it upon myself to instruct Mrs. Hudson to tell any unfamiliar callers that Holmes was out.

   “No, it is you we wish to see, Dr. Watson,” Lord Godalming put in. “The fact is, we made sure that you were alone before we came up.”

   With my nerves already under strain, I found their stiff, mysterious manner quite unpleasant. “Well, then?”

   Again they looked at each other hesitantly. Then Seward bluntly came out with it. “We should like to know why you interfered, that night at Barley’s, with a policeman in the performance of his duty.”

   For a moment, my irritation threatened to burst up into anger; but quickly I saw that such an attitude was scarcely fair. In Seward’s place I might well have chosen to take exactly the same course with an old acquaintance. I nodded silently.

   Seward said unhappily: “It’s more, of course,