The Dracula Caper

EPILOGUE

They sat around the table in the dining room of Number 7 Mornington Place. Amy Robbins. soon to be Mrs. Wells, brought in the coffee and biscuits.

"And so that is where we stand, gentlemen," Forrester was saying. "And, of course. Miss Robbins. I have the means to compel you to forget the parts you played in this incredible experience, but there are certain complications associated with the process-think of it as a sort of hypnotism, if you will-risks I would prefer not to incur or even to discuss with you at length. Such a radical… 'enforced forgetfulness,' for lack of a simpler way of describing it to you, could have certain unforeseen effects upon the personality. Since you are all highly creative individuals, that is a chance I would not wish to take. However, I hope I have made you see the importance of never revealing what you know to anyone, not under any circumstances."

"I quite understand, General," said Doyle, "and you have my word. Even if we were to tell anyone about what we have seen, who in their right mind would believe it? Although, I must admit, the idea of pitting Holmes against a vampire has a certain charm to it."

"I thought you had grown tired of him'?" Stoker said. "Don't tell me you now plan to resurrect him from the dead?" he added with a grin.

Doyle cleared his throat. "Well, who knows?" he said. "Perhaps the old chap never really died. Watson was never the keenest of observers, after all. And even if I were to write such a story, it would necessarily stress the rational over the supernatural, the truth over the fanciful. And as I knew right from the beginning, there was a rational answer to this perplexing case. An answer, perhaps, that is impossible for those of us in this time to fully comprehend, but a rational answer nonetheless. We were not confronted with the walking dead. There was a scientific explanation."

"Still," said Stoker, "there is something compelling about the notion of a dark, Satanic afterlife, a living hell on earth."

"I will leave such musings to your somewhat overly romantic soul." said Doyle dryly. "For my part, I am content to have seen this nightmare brought to a conclusion. Grayson believes that he has found his killers with the help of the Green Dragon tong and if he is puzzled by the riddle of the mysterious American scholars who have disappeared without a trace, then it will give him something to dwell upon in his retirement someday. The one mystery which he could never solve."

"Unlike Holmes, who solved them all, is that it?" Stoker said.

"Well… perhaps that yet remains to be seen. And as for Moreau, well, good luck to him, I say."

"You've been very quiet, Wells," said Stoker. "You've hardly said a word all evening. I don't know about you, but for my part, I do not know if I would object greatly to this process of 'enforced forgetfulness' the general has spoken of. I will have nightmares about this experience for years to come."

"I suspect I will have dreams, as well," said Wells, "but of a rather different sort."

"Will we see any of you again?" said Amy Robbins.

“I trust that you will not misunderstand and take offense, Miss Robbins, if I say that I sincerely hope not?" Forester said.

She smiled. "No offense taken, General." she said. "Thank you all for all that you have done. Especially you. Miss Craven, and Mr. Neilson, for looking after me."

"It was our pleasure. Miss Robbins," said Neilson.

"And please give my thanks and my regards to that strange, invisible man," she said.

Wells frowned slightly and looked thoughtful.

"There yet remains one final question to which we do not have an answer," Doyle said. "We know about the poor creatures who were killed back at the castle and we know about their victims who had died, but what of their victims who survived? If they had attacked people and failed to kill them, will they not also develop the same blood-craving disease?"

"We will remain on the alert for any further murders of this nature, Dr. Doyle," said Forester, "as, I trust, shall you. You could be of invaluable continued service to us in this regard. We will not rest until we have established to our satisfaction that this threat has been eliminated once and for all."

"I will, of course, be glad to help in any way I can “said Doyle. "I will never forget the sight that greeted us when we descended once again into those dungeons. The way those creatures tore several of their own number apart in their frenzy of destruction, it was like a slaughterhouse!"

"Parts of bodies scattered everywhere." said Stoker, "the remains unrecognizable. I cannot help but wonder, how can we be certain that among them were Count Dracula's remains? The idea haunts me. He could be there still, somewhere in those labyrinthine dungeons, still alive and waiting."

They all stared at him uneasily.

"I just cannot help but wonder," Stoker said, "if we have truly seen the last of him."

The bell rang over the door and a sallow, thin-featured, clean-shaven man dressed in a dark tweed overcoat and howler hat entered the apothecary shop. He smiled at the young woman behind the counter. She was several months pregnant and just beginning to show.

"Good afternoon, sir." Jasmine said.

"Good afternoon, Madame," Grayson said. "I wonder, might I speak with your husband?"

"Certainly, sir," said Jasmine, not thinking that there was anything odd about the man's request. There were many times when gentlemen had problems of a very private nature that they were reluctant to discuss with a woman. "One moment please and I will bring him."

She stepped through the curtains leading to the back rooms and a moment later, a slightly built man with prematurely grey hair came out, wiping his hands on a leather apron. Grayson was surprised to see that he was not an Oriental.

"Yes, sir." said Moreau. "My wife said you wished to see me? How may I assist you?"

Grayson frowned. "Perhaps I have made some sort of mistake." he said. "I was expecting someone else, an older gentleman, a… that is, well… excuse me, you are the proprietor here?"

"Ah." said Moreau, "you must mean my wife's grandfather, Lin Tao. One moment, I will ask him to come in.”

Moreau disappeared behind the curtains and came back a moment later with Lin Tao.

The old man gave him a slight bow. "Good afternoon,” he said. "Excuse me, perhaps my memory fails me. but I do not recall that we have met before."

"No. we have never actually met," said Grayson. "But you might say that our paths have missed on numerous occasions."

He reached into his pocket and took out a length of singed, dark green ribbon. He held it out across the counter to Lin Tao.

"I am Chief Inspector William Grayson of Scotland Yard," he said.

Lin Tao regarded him steadily. "Yes," he said. "I know."

"It took me a very long time to find you." Grayson said, putting the ribbon down on the wooden countertop. "I did not come here in an official capacity I believe I owe you a great debt of gratitude and I have come to thank you. And also to ask a favor, I have had difficulty sleeping these past few months."

"Perhaps a preparation of tincture of opium and belladonna would be the solution to your problem," Lin Tao said.

Grayson smiled. "No, I do not think so. However, I think the answers to some puzzling questions which have kept me up at night for weeks on end might do the trick."

The two men held each other's gaze for a long time. Then the ghost of a smile appeared on Lin Tao's face and he gave a slight nod.

"In that case Inspector Grayson, perhaps you would like to join us for tea?"