The Classified Dossier: Sherlock Holmes and Count Dracula(39)



“But this man has no sign of gunshot wounds,” I said.

“Perhaps she feared the retort of a gun would arouse suspicions and bring the police immediately. So she knocks the man unconscious, possibly with the aid of a male confederate that we have not detected, and throws him in the Thames. What could be simpler?”

“But this man is no recent drowning victim,” Holmes said. “And you have not accounted for the salt, for the transportation of the body – either how it was done or why – or the single holes in his waistcoat.”

“Perhaps there were two other confederates,” Gregson said stoutly. “As to the salt and badge, these do not seem to be such difficult obstacles to me. However, I know how crafty and careful are your ways, Mr Holmes, and I shall follow your advice and say nothing yet about the marshal’s possible death. But have you no idea where we should find this Lucja Nowak?”

“What should you do,” Holmes asked, “if you did find her?”

“I should arrest her and take her down to the station so that I might hear an account of the events from her own lips. For I have a way with women, Mr Holmes, such that I could see through any lie she might wish to tell. If she’s not an accomplice to murder, I’ll lay odds that she knows a great deal about it.”

“On that much,” Holmes said, “we certainly agree. Well, you shall pursue your line of reasoning and I mine, and we shall meet later to pool our resources. I’ll send you a telegram should I find anything of further interest.”

I waited until we’d left the hotel and were getting into the hansom before speaking. “Holmes, could vampires have done this?” The thought of vampires at sea was still a haunting one to me. Surely the master criminal was not content merely to wait, especially when he had supernatural methods of revenge at his disposal? I kept my voice low, barely audible over the slushing of the hansom’s wheels through rain. “Some are exceptional climbers, as you well know. Since vampires can’t be scented as well by other vampires, perhaps…”

“I considered this, Watson,” he said, “but it really won’t do. None of the marks of vampire attack appear anywhere on our victim. Also, we know the difficulties that swimming present to a vampire. Hmm… I grant you, it is a pretty proposition for the logician. For now every problem we come across must be re-evaluated in the light of these new supernatural possibilities. But consider this: we know that vampires must feed and that even one bite has the potential to spread the blood disease that causes this condition. Since we monitor both the morgues and the hospitals, we know that this number is exceedingly small. I calculate that London can hardly hold more than a hundred vampires, possibly as little as twenty.”

“Could not they drink animal’s blood,” I said, “as I do, and so ruin your calculations? Or take other steps to prevent the infections that would spread the disease?”

“We have Dracula’s word that this kind of restraint is exceedingly rare. He himself leaves more than ample traces of his existence for the trained detective to find. No, Watson, you are a paragon of virtue and civility. There are over five million natives in this metropolis of ours. So, unless one should chance to visit Baker Street, the average Londoner’s chances are greater of discovering an orangutan than a vampire.”

“There is an unnatural pall on this case, Holmes,” I said gravely. “I fear that we may find the Mariner Priest’s foul hand on the far end of this affair.”

“That is always possible,” Holmes said. “But I have yet seen no sign of it.”

“What then?” I said. “Is there a mundane explanation for these remarkable occurrences?”

“That is what we shall endeavour to find out. I trust you are not averse to running a little errand for me, say… this evening after the sun has gone down?”

“I should be delighted,” I said.

“Then I shall draw a list of hotels I’d like you to visit.” He drew out a notebook and started writing. “It is not as large as it might be. I shall assume from her previous choice that she chose a hotel with a moderate price and some security, if given the chance. We shall try this approach first, then widen our search if this list bears no fruit.” He tore off the sheet of paper and handed it over. “It is best that you wait until evening for I perceive that the sun has quite taken its toll on you. When you do go, I would have you fresh and on your guard.”

“What shall you be doing?” I asked.

“I have several inquiries of my own to perform,” he said. “We shall meet in Baker Street before dawn and compare our findings.”





Chapter 08





MISS LUCJA NOWAK





The list of hotels that Holmes had written out for me was not overly long.

Still, I worked my way through most of the list without any progress. I’d just received another negative inquiry from the night clerk at the Excelsior Hotel and turned to leave the desk, when a woman from the back room cried out, “Wait! Dr Watson!”

She burst out from the small room behind the counter, and came round the desk before the sallow-faced clerk could stop her.

“Shut your mouth, now, Effie,” he said to her. “You don’t know nothin’ about this.”

“Don’t you know who that is?” the woman, Effie, snapped back at him, not at all daunted by his curt tone and flushed face. “’E ain’t part of the regular force, is ’e? Why, that’s Dr Watson! ’E’s the one what works with Mr Sherlock ’Olmes! Don’t mind me ’usband, Dr Watson. ’E don’t know.”

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