That fact did not bother Dracula. He moved quickly, with a confidence that seemed inhuman. Liam tried to keep up, but it was not easy. When Liam finally caught up with the Count they had made their way back across the stage area and stood next to the top of the huge waterfall curtain.
'Observe,' said Dracula. His long slim fingers pointed downwards. From this perch they had a clear view of the royal box. 'I would say this is where the assassin shot from.'
'Thank God he missed,' said Liam. 'But where is he now?'
'I think close by,' said Dracula. He motioned for Liam to be silent, his eyes blazing redder than ever. Dracula was a hunter seeking his prey.
Liam heard the soft sound of a board creaking. He turned and found himself confronting a figure, dressed in the same pirate costume that the actors wore. In the semi-darkness it seemed a fearful apparition that was trying to slip by the two men.
'I think not,' Liam said.
He moved to intercept the assassin but missed his footing and stumbled, ramming his head hard against a metal strut that supported the curtain. It was only the purest luck that he was able to keep from falling from the girder. Around him the world whirled for a moment, transforming the stage light below into a rainbow of colors.
That was when he noticed the fog. It came from nowhere, it was just there, flowing around the upper part of the theater. Liam tried to focus on Dracula, dressed as the Pirate King, who stood now facing the assassin in the crewman's costume.
The words that Dracula had sung earlier in the Green Room ran through Liam's mind, echoing in the Count's strong baritone. '
Liam's eyesight began to clear and he could see Dracula again. The fog was gone and so was the wolf. The Count was grappling with the assassin. In a single motion he managed to hurl him against the curtain. The impact made a dull thud that sent the figure collapsing into an unconscious heap.
Liam got to his feet and made his way over to their prisoner. There was enough light coming through the top of the curtain that he could see the figure's face.
'Effie?!'
With the help of a couple of stage hands, Effie had been taken down from the theater aerie. She now lay stretched out, unconscious, on a pallet of curtains and sacks, a thin trail of drying blood running from a cut on her scalp.
A crowd of actors and stage hands surround them. Gilbert, Bunberry and the large fat man that Liam had seen earlier had appeared out of nowhere.
'It looks as if we have what we were hoping for.' said the fat man.
'Is there a doctor in the house?' said Gilbert. That it was one of the oldest theatrical cliches ever didn't seem to matter when William Gilbert said it.
'I think having a doctor look over both Effie and Liam would be a good idea,' said Dracula.
'Arguably,' said the fat man. 'Send one of the stage hands to box A17. There is a doctor named Watson with the A.J. Raffles party.'
'Are we going to be able to finish this show?' asked Gilbert.
'Oh, yes,' said the fat man, 'if Mr. Gideon and the Count are able to carry on, and I think there should be no doubt of that. By the way, Count, I thoroughly enjoyed your performance. You have a wonderful voice and a real talent for comedy.'
'Look here, Holmes.' said Bunberry.
'Holmes?' said Liam. He knew that name, as any regular reader of
'That was my late brother. But it doesn't matter who I am, young man, because you never heard that name mentioned in this theater, and I was never here.' said the fat man. 'Consider that an order from Her Majesty's Government.'
'Yes, sir,' said Liam. He had other questions he wanted to ask, but discretion seemed the better part of valor right now.
'Perhaps you could explain things to me, sir,' said Dracula. 'Would I be correct in assuming that this whole matter of the reprise of Pirates was part of an elaborate plan? Who is Effie?'
The fat man, who wasn't there, removed a cigar case from his inside jacket, opened it and offered one to Dracula. The Count declined.
'As to your first question, you may be right or you may wrong, that is all I can say. As for Effie, my dear Count, besides being the costume mistress for this theater, is an expert with a one-shot air rifle. I know of only one better, a former Indian army colonel. Those skills earned her a position as an assassin for hire, working this evening for a Scottish anarchist group,' he said.
'And you want her to tell you all about her employers,' said Dracula.
'It would be very nice to hear about her current and past employers... She can choose to cooperate with us, or face a hangman's noose. Her Majesty's government had long suspected her, but we never had any proof. Tonight, we have the proof we needed. Thanks to the cooperation of Mr. Gilbert & Mr. Sullivan, Their Highnesses, and a pair of very good actors who portrayed them this evening, not mention Effie's hatred of the royals and anything non- Scottish... Now, I have matters that require my attention. May I wish you, Count, and the rest of the cast the best of lu...'
'The proper phrase is 'Break a Leg,' I believe,' said Dracula.
'Ah, yes, quite right. Very well then, break a leg.'
Others came crowding around Effie, Gilbert and the fat man, so Liam and Dracula withdrew to the far corner of the stage.
'Count, I have to ask you something,' said Liam.
'What is that, Liam?'
'Up there, when were fighting Effie, did I see what I thought I saw?'
'And what was that?'
'I would swear that I saw one of Finn McCool's wolves. But then it was gone,' he said.
'Are you sure of what you saw? Any more sure than Everett is that he did not have a visitor earlier this evening. One that told him to take a long nap,' Dracula said.
'Perhaps not. But why, Count? Why did you do it?'
'Partially curiosity. When you are as old as I am you embrace the unknown. By the time we encountered Effie, I had no choice. I was a 'slave to duty',' he said with a grin.
Before Liam could speak the assistant stage manager came up behind the men.
'Places for Act Two, gentlemen,' he said.
