construction of fantastic extravagance fifteen miles south of St. Petersburg. This miniature domain had been called “a world apart,” and “an enchanted fairyland.” Eight hundred acres of green lawn–well over a square mile–in the imperial park, delighted the four daughters of the imperial family, Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia, whose ages were eight to two, respectively.
The horse-drawn tram had not yet been replaced by the electric vehicle, and motorcars were much more a rarity than in the vicinity of London. Rubber-tired carriages were fairly common in the summer, and the main streets, at least, were all smoothly paved.
Now we put into action, as best we could, the plans which we had made aboard ship. We were each of us to seek out our professional contemporaries in St. Petersburg, and endeavor to find out what we could about our quarry.
Dracula mentioned casually that there might be in the St. Petersburg area some local vampires with whom he could establish useful contact. “Most likely it will be something indirect–I have a place to start, the name of a certain breathing friend of an old friend.”
Zubatov, then the head of the Tsarist secret police, acquainted with Sherlock Holmes at least by reputation, was obviously a powerful man, important either as friend or foe; and Holmes would pursue his own inquiries by that means.
Armstrong felt almost at home in St. Petersburg, having spent much of the previous winter and spring in the city in the course of his duties as international correspondent for his American newspaper. He had found the place interesting, and had enjoyed many aspects of the local society. Others, such as the official censorship, were extremely distasteful. but mainly he had suffered by being separated from Louisa, until, to his joy, he had been reassigned to London.
For my part I endeavored, though I met with little success, to establish some contacts among the local medical community, by means of shared interests or mutual acquaintances. One friend of a friend turned up unexpectedly–a Russian who had been doing research on plague, in Paris, but his knowledge of Count Kulakov, or of anyone who might know the count, proved to be nil. From my new acquaintance, I learned little more than that this city had been called “the babylon of the Snows,” or sometimes “the Venice of the North”—the latter because of the number of canals and natural waterways.
I learned also, that in summer, cholera was always a serious concern. It was important to make sure that drinking water was boiled.
I was pleased to observe that telephones were as readily available as in most parts of britain. All of the best hotels and other important buildings, had at least one instrument installed, and I was told there were many thousands of subscribers in Russia.
Our business in the city was facilitated by the fact that several of our party understood the language of the city’s common people. Holmes spoke a little Russian and understood more–this knowledge, as he explained to me, being one of the fruits of two years of travel in Tibet. And Prince Dracula soon demonstrated fluency in the tongue of Ivan the Terrible, though Holmes told me there was much that was old-fashioned, even archaic, in Dracula’s speech. The prince said that he had never visited St. Petersburg before; I admit being somewhat awed by the realization that he was considerably older than the city.
Armstrong, during the past year having spent several months in St. Petersburg, had a smattering of modern Russian.
Of particular help to me was the fact that every cultured person in the capital spoke French, some of them by preference over their native tongue; in addition, a fair number spoke English.
We intended to learn who might be Kulakov’s special friends and associates in St. Petersburg, and Cousin Sherlock had been able to come up with some clues along that line. Everything we had learned so far tended to confirm that our quarry probably did not have many intimate associates, here in St. Petersburg or anywhere else.
We still did not know whether Kulakov had yet forced his fangs upon his latest victim and hostage. Personally I thought it probable, though I admitted there might be reasons for him to do otherwise.
Meanwhile I was congratulating myself for having managed to bring Sarah along, though the stern demands of duty kept me from seeing anything like as much of her as I would have liked.
Getting a black look from Watson now and then, I condescended to assure the good doctor that he need not be worried about Sarah’s becoming a vampire. With a little restraint on the part of both parties involved, such an outcome could be delayed for a long time, and most of my love affairs did not end in that result.
Gradually our slowly growing network of contacts in the city began, like a tangle of grapevine, to bear fruit. Within two days we learned that in the higher social circles where he was known, Kulakov planned to present Rebecca as his new wife, acquired in England. In recent years he had been known in St. Petersburg as a widower, his last reported wife having died some years ago.
Insofar as we could discover, it had never been the count’s habit, before his latest trip to England, to mix much in St. Petersburg society, but he was on fairly intimate terms with a few of the nobility. Though appearing socially from time to time, he mainly tended to keep to himself, spending most of his time on his extensive country estates.
Martin Armstrong was still being tormented by his mixed feelings toward the dead Louisa. His beloved was, or had been, one of the undead. Having some difficulty in believing that Louisa was now truly departed, Armstrong was also anticipating a similar fate for becky. He brooded sleeplessly upon her fate, the unbearable fact that from now on, she might be compelled to spend her days, or many of her daylight hours, sleeping in her tomb. And he had learned from the party of vampire-hunters the uses of the wooden stake.
Who would her lover
No, Becky’s new lover would have to be a breathing man. And there could be no future in society–any form of human society, as Martin thought–for such a couple.
Every witness–there were not many–who reported seeing Kulakov since his return to St. Petersburg, said that the man gave evidence of some kind of mental or physical infirmity. We wondered whether this infirmity had provided him with one strong reason, perhaps really the only reason, to come back to St. Petersburg. “Is it possible that he comes here in hopes of getting relief from these symptoms?” I asked. No one answered.
The beautiful white nights, persisting well into July, made a favorable impression on the breathing visitors, but somewhat hampered the visiting and native vampires alike.
Holmes asked Martin Armstrong for confirmation that Rebecca Altamont did not speak Russian. Then the detective mused that this lack would doubtless add to the girl’s sense of helplessness and isolation, and make it harder for her to attempt an escape unaided, even if she were able to contemplate such a course.
In engaging our hotel rooms, we had particularly asked for a suite equipped with a telephone. In the first two days of our stay, the instrument seldom rang; but toward the end of the third day, I answered a call and heard, to my great astonishment, the voice of a distraught woman whom I could only gradually, and with some uncertainty, recognize as Rebecca Altamont.
I will not repeat in detail all that the mesmerized and terrorized woman said, or elaborate on my futile attempts to interrupt and offer her some hope. Suffice it to say here that she cursed us, one and all, for interfering with her happiness, and warned us to go home.
There followed a little shriek as the instrument was evidently pulled roughly from her grasp, and then a gloating postscript in an unfamiliar male voice which I soon realized must be that of Kulakov himself.
“Dr. Watson, I take it? Mr. Holmes is not available at the moment? Ah, too bad.” Kulakov went on to give his own warning, to the effect that until now he had treated his prisoner kindly, but if Sherlock Holmes and the other meddlers did not promptly take themselves out of the country, he would soon begin to punish Rebecca Altamont for what he called our misdeeds.
