The Classified Dossier: Sherlock Holmes and Count Dracula(97)

The procedure for skipping this phase of the transformation is absurdly simple. If you have not deduced it yet, then I make a gift to you now. Forcibly submerging a vampire has the effect of rendering them into a coma-like state. During this time, it is simplicity itself to keep the vampire alive, fed, and docile while the initial stage of the transformation runs its course. This does not prevent the shattering of the soul, for they are still monsters, but tractable ones. The submersion method, as I call it, has the advantages of keeping your recruits from running amok at inconvenient times. You will also discover that starving a vampire, as these have been, will revert your average vampire to the mindless state you find them in now.

However, some ambition is not entirely affected by the transformation. I am certain that you remember a young associate of mine, one John Clay, that I was forced to dispose of. (I understand you were able to examine his body, yes?) Not only did he harbour grand dreams of replacing my position of power among our coterie of newly recruited vampires, but he managed to convert nearly all of them to his cause. As such, I found myself on a ship at sea with a nearly rebellious crew all around me. It was as much as I could do to convince them that you had gone and that London now presented itself as ripe for plunder. This is the method, the lie, I dare say, that I used to bring them to you, my solution. I thank you for disposing of them for me.

In return, I give you England, as I take a steamer to distant lands. Now that the near-rebellion has been quelled by your most capable hands, I shall have no trouble taking my remaining forces out of your reach, adhering to my original plan to stay as such until time has finally taken care of you.

I tell you in all confidence that the new senses that come from life as a vampire quite make up for the enforced diet restrictions. My new love of the sea has been born out of just such a change in temperament and I shall quite enjoy spending the next few decades roaming it.

I regret, truly, that we shall not meet again in your lifetime.

Warmest regards,

Professor James Moriarty





Chapter 19





GUESTS BOTH WELCOME AND UNWELCOME





In the end, Kitty Winter sent us home.

We tried to be solicitous after her devastating loss of Somersby, but after her initial bout of weeping ended, she angrily rebuked us and started taking matters into her own hands. She instructed us to hail a cab and send messages to summon more of the Midnight Watch to assist her in both Somersby’s collection as well as the respectful disposal of the many other corpses there that deserved the dignity of burial, however discreet they were required to be. Her grief seemed to have burned itself into such a smouldering passion for these arrangements that it became clear that she would allow neither Holmes’s assistance nor mine, and we were summarily dismissed.

“You have to handle the bastard that’s done this,” she said to Holmes hotly. “I can’t find him, but you can, and I can do this. Best we each get to it, I should think.” She fixed us with an angry stare and I got the distinct sense that she would prefer to be alone with Somersby’s body for a short period so that she might say goodbye in private.

“Quite right,” Holmes said deferentially and, raising his eyebrows to catch my gaze, indicated that we should beat a hasty retreat out into the road in order to hail a cab, as instructed.

“For as long as I live,” I said, when we’d stepped out into the street, “I shall never completely understand women.”

“That is unfortunate,” Holmes said idly, “for of the two of us, your experience with women is far greater than mine, I dare say. Well, you shall have ample time to test your theory, for it is probable that you shall outlive most of the women you encounter.”

He dropped this thunderbolt into the conversation without seeming to give any real importance to the words, for he was already stepping out into the cobbled street in search of our cab. I stood near the door, suddenly struggling with a fact I’d known for some time, but had refused to put into words. Any chance I had at a life like the one I’d had with Mary was certainly shattered. Similarly, the bachelor existence I currently maintained with my friend and confidant would also come to an end. Everything and everyone I knew would die while I remained. Outliving Holmes, in particular, was still a fate that my mind refused to encompass, and the idea made my flesh crawl. My future seemed a dark and bleak road and these few little adventures that I shared with my good friend were a bright flare in the darkness that would go out altogether too soon. Only I would remain, with only the likes of Kitty Winter among my acquaintances rather than my dearest friends. It was a sobering thought.

It was short train ride and then another quiet cab ride back to Baker Street, for both of us were very much lost in thought. Holmes’s face was pensive and introspective and he bore several visible contusions and cuts around his neck and temple that he had not bothered to attend to. I knew that I looked much the same, despite my more durable nature, now. One gash on my right cheek, in particular, felt serious, though my handkerchief, when I carefully applied it, came away with very little blood. I only noticed that I still held the handkerchief after some long minutes of riding, so stricken was I with Holmes’s casual insight and prediction of doom.

So much lost in thought, in fact, that I barely paid any attention to our surroundings and it was something of a surprise when we pulled up outside of Baker Street. The cabbie had to call out to get his fare, for we both stumbled from the four-wheeler and would have both walked away from the cab without paying if not reminded.