“You have only done as you must. It is the murderer who has brought all this.” He gestured to the disarray of coffins and caskets.
“Right you are, sir,” Inspector Ames agreed. “But we’re the ones as did the search, and we’re the ones to put it right again.” He did not add that this was a courtesy rarely extended to men in the visitor’s position: had the search been unsuccessful, or had the owner of D. Carfax been less imposing, the police would have left the disorder for him to deal with.
“For which I am most appreciative,” said Mister Carfax. “I could not look upon dealing with this without being appalled. I fear I should have had to hire others to do it.”
“Understandable, sir,” said Inspector Ames.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them.
“Inspector,” said Carfax suddenly, “do you need me for anything more? If you do not, I will give you a key and ask you to lock up when you and your men are done.”
“Of course, sir,” said Inspector Ames, thinking that these foreigners were odd coves, going queasy over the damnedest things. “I’ll return your key as soon as you ask for it.”
“Thank you, Inspector.” He turned his back on all the activity, then reached into his waistcoat pocket and drew out his key on a long chain. “I will go into the country for a few days, I think. To recruit myself. This has left me quite shaken.”
“More’s the pity, sir,” said Inspector Ames, taking the key-and-chain from the visitor. “Just you rest up a bit. Don’t let this unpleasantness spoil your taste for England.” He wanted to ease Carfax’s mind, so he added, “Hire an experienced manager and let him handle the business for a while. Take your time.”
“Time,” Carfax echoed. “You give excellent advice, Inspector. I have other matters to attend to just now. I would be imprudent to neglect them.” He pressed his lips together, musing. “Your point is well-taken. With a competent manager, this place should prosper, whether I am here to run it or not.”
Inspector Ames smiled. “Sounds the very thing.” Very probably, he thought, there was nothing more pressing than the desire to get away from this place, but he could not blame Carfax for that, after such a grisly discovery. He would have patted the foreigner on the arm, but that would have been much too familiar a gesture. “What did Hitchin say you call this place—a long-term investment?”
Carfax paused in the act of leaving. “That’s right, Inspector,” he said with an expression that was not a smile, “so I did.”
“Places for Act Two!”
Bradley H. Sinor
“Blimy, mate! You’re out of your bloody mind!”
Liam Gideon stared down the length of his sword at the pale face that moments before had been a blustering, menacing figure.
“Crazy or sane, it doesn’t matter,” he said. “Because
The pale-faced man’s eyes darted to the far side of the alley where another man, dressed as shabbily as he, lay. This one was still breathing, but with two teeth dangling over the edge of his lip it was obvious he was coming to no one’s aid. A second fellow lay on the ground, conscious, but not moving. A heavy black boot was planted across his chest. The boot belonged to a tall dark man, dressed in elegantly cut clothes, who the three had been attempting to rob.
“Now, sir,” Liam said to the stranger. “I think it only right and proper that you make the decision about what to do with our friend, here. Should I run him through, perhaps cut him just a bit, say, remove certain portions of his anatomy; or should we just hold him and the others for the arrival of the police?”
“My first inclination would be to give them a long, very slow, very painful death. A public impalement might be a beneficial lesson to others.” The man’s dark eyes glittered with a strange redness to them. He spoke with the slightest hint of an accent, each word clearly, crisply, and evenly pronounced.
It occurred to Liam that perhaps English was not his native language.
“It would be an interesting sight, but consume far more time than I am willing to give to it.” With those words the man lifted his boot from the thief’s chest and half turned away from him. Liam had the impression of someone who had done with a matter, though he did notice that the stranger never fully took his eyes off the three thieves.
Liam drew his sword away from the first man’s neck. The other one scrambled to his feet, watching Liam and the stranger with the look of a trapped animal. A moment or two passed as both men stood frozen, rain washing across their terror-striped faces. Then they grabbed their unconscious companion, dragging him down the alley.
“I imagine they will have quite a tale to tell once they hit the pub,” said Liam.
“It is always wise to spread news of your prowess among an enemy. The story will grow with each retelling,” said the stranger. “You never know how it might help you in the future.”
“Hopefully, neither of us will have to deal with them again,” said Liam.
“True, but with that sort of ilk it never hurts to have a reputation.”
The stranger turned toward Liam. This was the first time he had had a chance to get a good look at him. His dark, somewhat disheveled hair, combed across the tops of his ears, gave him an almost feral look. There was something intense and controlling in his manner.
“Now, if I may inquire, who is it who stood to battle at my side?”
“Gideon. Liam Gideon, late of Dublin, Edinburgh, and parts beyond.”
“Liam Gideon. I thank you for your assistance. It came at a most propitious time.”
Liam had been minding his own business, hurrying to get back to the Strand Theatre on the west side of London. Passing an alley, hearing the sounds of a fight, he turned and saw three men attack a lone figure. He had hardly thought about it before he was plunging into the middle of the melee.
“You were holding your own pretty well against these fellows. I suspect that you didn’t need that much assistance from me.”
“None the less, you chose to ally yourself with me in battle. That is something that among my people means much. So do not doubt that you have the gratitude of Vlad Tsepes, Count Dracula.”
“Thank you, Count. It wasn’t that much of a decision for me. It was simply something that seemed needed doing. Something that I didn’t think about, just did, my duty, and I am but a slave to duty,” he said with a smile.
“A slave to duty?” Dracula looked at Liam oddly.
“Your pardon, Count. I was quoting a line from a play that I am in. It seemed fitting, somehow,” said Liam.
“A play? You are an actor, then?”
“At times,” he said.
“And what is this play?”
“
“Gilbert & Sullivan? I am new to London, recently arrived from my native Transylvania, so I’m afraid that I am unfamiliar with either of these gentlemen. I must admit that they sound more like a law firm than playwrights.”
“A law firm? That’s novel,” laughed Liam. “They are the creators of the most popular operettas in the last dozen years.”
