The Classified Dossier: Sherlock Holmes and Count Dracula(108)
Dracula nodded. “You are quite right.”
“There is one other matter,” Holmes said. He reached over and picked up the small notebook he had liberated from Moriarty’s body. “I have been spending some time with this remarkable little book. Moriarty, even as a vampire, was a careful man, and his notes are purposefully cryptic and sparse to a degree that it is nearly an exercise in cryptography to decipher them. However, it has provided some information and I believe I can shed light on a few things. At the beginning of the case, you had come to the conclusion that our adversary was an ‘elder’ vampire, to use your term, giving us the impression that we were dealing with someone who had been a vampire for decades, if not centuries. But this was clearly incorrect. If Moriarty had acquired vampirism just before our encounter at Reichenbach, which is what an entry in this book suggests to me, then Moriarty had only twelve years as a vampire. This is an astonishingly short period of time in which he seems to have both understood the transformation far better than we have and also acquired a number of the powers that you have ascribed to ‘elder’ vampires.”
“I do not follow,” I said.
“You, yourself are the proof of that,” Holmes said. “You were lured out into the street through a feat of mental manipulation that I suspect Dracula would be hard-pressed to emulate.” He looked pointedly at the Count, who nodded in curt agreement.
Holmes continued. “Mary showed no sign of these powers when we encountered her later. Who else but Moriarty could have provided the assistance?”
Both Dracula and Mina looked, in degrees, disbelieving, astonished, and finally, soberly thoughtful as the implications of Holmes’s words sunk in.
“The first point is this,” Holmes said. “We must continue the good professor’s work. We must come to a better, more scientific understanding of vampirism. Its disease and its powers, bereft of superstition. Who better equipped, I ask you, but the persons in this room?”
Dracula and Mina shared another glance.
Finally, Dracula inclined his head. “Yes, there is great wisdom in what you say. I see now that I have allowed… the situation to wrongfully dissuade me from pursuing, as you say, a scientific approach. I shall not make that mistake again.”
“Capital,” Holmes said. “The second point is this…” He paused, looking dramatically at each of us. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet that all of us, even with our vampiric hearing, had to lean forward to catch it.
“Who infected Moriarty?”
Dracula and Mina and I all sat backwards, collectively stunned. I certainly had not considered this incredibly profound and important detail and I could tell from the expressions on the others’ faces that they had not either.
Holmes took a long drag on his pipe, his eyes glittering, and I could see that he was privately pleased by the stir that his question had caused. “Consider this: if it was an ‘elder’ vampire, as you deem them, then there is still a significant threat out there.”
“You disturb me, Mr Holmes,” Dracula said.
“It is a disturbing thought,” Holmes agreed.
“You have given us much to think upon,” Dracula said, standing and smoothing his waistcoat, “but if there is nothing else, I believe the time has come for us to depart. Again, you have my thanks.” He took Mina’s hand as she stood up to join him.
“We should perhaps view the estate grounds before departing England,” Mina said. “With your permission, Mr Holmes?”
“I was about to make the same suggestion,” Holmes said. “It will, however, be a few days before the solicitors bring over the keys and paperwork, but a few gates and barred windows are not likely to be much of an obstacle in the meantime for either of you, I believe.”
“We might as well take over Moriarty’s empire,” I said ruefully, “for we are well on our way to forming our own criminal enterprise at this rate.” But I couldn’t keep a smile from tugging at my lips.
“All for the good of London, I am sure,” Mina said with a brilliant smile. She reached for my hand and I gave it to her. “You are a good man, Dr Watson, for all your reservations and despite your misleading narratives.”
“Misleading, madam?” I said. “I assure you that Holmes is every bit as remarkable as I have portrayed him. Exaggeration on that front has never been necessary. Surely you have seen that for yourself?”
“Oh yes,” she said. “It is yourself you misrepresent. Your stories, dare I say, present you as a trifle slow, while I have found you perceptive and quick, in addition to being compassionate and honourable.”
“Beware Watsonian deception,” Holmes said with a laugh. “There is no use knocking on that particular door, dear Mina. I have been trying for years with absolutely no success. The good doctor’s compulsion to romanticize and embellish for dramatic effect is, I’m afraid, irredeemable.”
“How very fortunate,” Mina said, “that you are, yourself, above such dramatic gestures.” Her face was a perfect mask of polite seriousness.
“A touch, my dear,” Holmes cried. “A distinct touch!”
“Count Dracula,” I said, extending my hand.
“This is a night filled with surprises,” Dracula said, but took my hand in his strong, ancient grip. “Let me also offer my deepest condolences for your loss. I was not able to before, but wish to now. I know,” and his glance strayed to Mina, “how much the loved ones in our life can keep us whole.”