The Holmes-Dracula File, Fred Saberhagen [pride and prejudice read .TXT] 📗

the broken mirror, when the door opened and Rough-voice and the woman entered, masked, to stand dumbfounded at the sight of Sally where they had no reason to expect her.

   The girl managed six words of attempted alibi, and one piteous outcry, before the man’s fist knocked her down.

   Hoisted to her feet by his ham-hand on her upper arm, she drooled out blood with her apology. Which was something about: “… on’y gettin’ the gent a drink.”

   The gent, whom no one was bothering to watch, shook his head judiciously. It sounded very lame.

   “Wot I wants ter know, right quick Sal, is why yer in this bloody room at all?”

   “Lookin’ fer you, I was. That’s all, I swear!” Sal went on to explain why she had supposedly been in a hurry to locate Rough-voice. Her arguments were too oblique and fragmentary for the old man to grasp them at the time, or to remember them at this late date. But Sal’s inquisitors seemed disposed, however grudgingly, to believe them. Bound on his cart he gave a slight nod of approval. Still no one was watching him.

   From the man Sally might have escaped with no worse than a burst lip and a fierce warning; but there was yet the female of the species with whom she must contend.

   In a commanding voice, which excitement turned hard-breathing and even more Germanic, the older woman urged: “Ve must impress upon t’ girl t’ seriousness uff tis.” She gestured imperiously. Rough-voice obediently seized Sal and wrestled her into the next room, presumably better equipped for making impressions of the kind the woman had in mind. After one initial spasm of resistance, the unhappy girl ceased to struggle.

   Now, thought the old man, honoring his pledge to Sal, and tried to summon up the army of his powers. The prospect of escape had acted on him as a stimulant, and he had now recovered far enough to know that unusual powers existed for him. Yet only a host of bemused ghosts responded to his call. They were the shades of energies that once had been, and might sometime be again, if only this mortal exhaustion did not kill him first.

   In the other room the older woman’s voice spoke softly, warmly, and with a sudden girlish eagerness. There was a rustle as of clothing being shifted, and then Sally cried out with true fierce pain, much louder than before. “Ah no, I meant no harm! Please no, I’ll not do it ever again…”

   Once more the scream. Then some metal implement was tossed aside, and a slight body slid through a man’s grasp and crumpled on the floor, whining and gasping with ongoing pain. At about this point the doctor arrived, brisk as usual and ready for a good day’s work. He had a few words of conversation with his co-workers, and delivered a short homily to Sal. She was allowed, as soon as she could stand, to make her way unsteady but unhindered from the building.

   The doctor, masked, gowned, and gloved as before, soon looked in and helped himself to another sample of the old man’s blood, with difficulties no smaller than before. Whatever portion of the day his study of this sample occupied, the doctor was not back again till dark. Meanwhile the old man had spent most of the daylight hours in tranced oblivion.

   This last time, the doctor came into the room unmasked. This first free look at that thin cold young face with its thick blond mustache the old man correctly interpreted as an ominous sign.

   “A very interesting patient you would make, old fellow. Very interesting indeed. But far too untypical, I fear, for our present needs. I would like very much to study you, just to satisfy my curiosity, but there is no time for that just now. And unfortunately no way for me to put you on ice until later.” The physician bent closer to examine closely the skin of the old man’s chest, and then sighed lightly. “I can’t even tell if you were bitten by the fleas; if not, that would be another thumping great peculiarity…and given the present state of your blood, I doubt you’ll live long enough to pose a threat as an informer or a potential witness. But of course that can’t be left to chance. Dispose of him, Matthews.”

   “Arr, ra-ther. Now that ’e knows me name.” Matthews (or Rough-voice), who had just come in, sounded quietly outraged.

   “And my own face, as you observe. So do a thorough job. As I have every confidence you will.”

   Matthews shook his head. “I will need a bit o’ help wi’ the boat, is all. I think I’d best use the same way as before.”

   “Are none of the lads available?”

   “Not right on hand, Guv. It’s been a busy time.”

   “I can help.” The woman had just come in, and was now taking off her mask. Her eyes, with the rest of the face now visible to set them off, looked harder than ever.

   The doctor, brightening, turned to her. “It would certainly help, Frau Grafenstein, if you do not mind. My own duties will prevent my leaving the building for some time.”

   “Mind a bit of exercise in a boat? Pah, of course not.” The roses put into her cheeks by the brief workout with Sally had not yet entirely faded. “I am not one uff your fragile ladies, doctor.”

   And it was the woman who first approached the cart. From some shelf on its lower half she brought up a pillow, with the idea of making the patient more comfortable. She pressed it firmly down upon the face of the supine old man, blocking both nose and mouth.

   How easy for him to make his chest surge up and down a little, and then hold it quite still. To strain and quiver in all his limbs, and then let them relax.

   Time passed.

   “That’s got