Blood to Blood (15 page)

The afternoon following his vigil, Arthur headed down Cheyne Walk, listening to the gossip of the gallery and café owners, straining to pick up any odd piece of news that might be associated with the vampire woman. Nothing, except for the account of a baker's murder that had taken place on the opposite bank, south of Battersea Park.

He'd stopped in a pub for something to eat and was about to finish his brandy when he heard three patrons at a table near his speaking of the crime.

"I hear that the bakery had been picked clean after the owner died. Well, murder's to be expected when there are so many filthy beggars on the streets these days."

Arthur, who had never known a day of hunger in his life, let alone real starvation, nonetheless silently agreed.

"The baker was stabbed, I hear," a patron at a nearby table added.

"Least twenty times. Body looked like mincemeat."

"Jack's back!"

"And moved from whores to bakers?"

"So he finally realized that food is what really matters," a portly man commented, patting his belly.

The men laughed, but nervously. Better to blame the Ripper than some hungry man with no conscience.

After Arthur left the tavern, he stopped at Whistler's to ask if the artist had been sketching the night before but found him absent. Just as well, he thought. His quest was futile, and there was no need to have a gossip like Whistler whispering to others about him. Perhaps Aubrey's consumption had even caused some hallucination. Besides, weren't artists prone to hallucinations anyway?

Nonetheless, he continued the search, walking over the bridge each evening just after dusk. But he saw nothing, and after that first night, felt nothing but the peace of knowing that he had not given up.

In a few days the new habit became a ritual, one he could not abandon, not even for a trip to Exeter.

The night before they were to leave, Arthur pleaded business concerns to Van Helsing, then noted that he had no real need to visit the Harkers. After all, Van Helsing was the expert. His own presence was hardly necessary.

He must have been persuasive, because Van Helsing did not argue. Arthur saw the doctor off at the station that Saturday morning with relief. Now that the old man was gone, Arthur could begin his search. Having thought of one creative way to start, he headed not for Chelsea but for Mayfair and an early luncheon he'd arranged with his family's solicitor.

George Hunt Brooks was not the kind of man Arthur preferred to confide in. He was too old, for one thing, and too strait laced. But he had served Arthur's father and grandfather with the same impeccable attention to details he used in his dress, and he could be counted on to keep a confidence.

He was waiting for Arthur at a quiet table near the back of the restaurant. "It seemed to me on previous occasions that you were often distracted by acquaintances. I thought this would be more conducive to a business discussion," Brooks said when Arthur joined him.

"Quite correct," Arthur said, choosing to ignore the polite criticism. He hadn't told Brooks this was a business discussion, but then what else would he have in common with the stodgy old man? He signaled a waiter to bring him a cup of tea, ordered, and after a few more polite near-pleasantries, got to the point.

"I have a friend to whom I made the mistake of loaning a sum of money. He was about to pay me back when he fell upon some hard times of his own. It seems that he made some investments with an individual from the East who has disappeared with most of his money and, indirectly, a good part of mine."

"That is hardly your concern," Brooks said. "I would stay out of it."

"The man is a friend I value, and he's in a state that makes a legal suit far too expensive unless he is sure of a good outcome. I said I would assist him in getting his funds back. The foreigner we believe stole his investments owns property in England. If it's worth the expense, my friend would like to put a lien on it and make some recovery of the stolen funds."

Brooks actually smiled, convincing Arthur that he believed only the more likely scenario—that Arthur himself had fallen into a bad financial state. Natural, since it would hardly be the first time.

"It would help to know the name of the firm who assisted in the purchase of them," Brooks suggested.

"I know that, but it might not be wise to contact them, considering their duty would be to warn their client."

"I never said you should contact them." Brooks corrected. "But if the purchase was recent, they needed to record it. You can then consult with Frederick Spoerl, who has his offices on Chesterfield. The Germans have a talent for making sense out of our tangled public records."

A second party! And Arthur had been trying to think of how to get Harker to part with the information without putting him on the woman's trail. Brooks had only stated the obvious. "I should have thought of that myself," he grumbled.

"Then I should not be eating this excellent shepherd's pie at your expense," Brooks countered and smiled at his joke.

It was the first time Arthur had ever seen Brooks's teeth beneath that huge mustache he'd cultivated. "Then we should finish with lemon tarts, don't you think?"

"And a brandy. Then, if you've the time, we could walk over to Chesterfield. Spoerl is an acquaintance. If he keeps hours today, I'll make the introduction."

Arthur made the
final order immediately, then sat back and considered his good fortune. If the woman who had come here was indeed Joanna Tepes, she would need her brother's funds and his lands, and the other gifts Dracula would have left for her.

He wanted to find them first.

Some two hours before Van Helsing was to arrive on the afternoon train, Mina stopped at Jonathan's office. She paused outside to shake the rain off her umbrella, then waited in the outer room. No stranger to his staff, she chatted with Tom Pierson about his wedding plans until Jonathan's last appointment left, then joined her husband in his office.

Though he had been expecting her, Jonathan felt confused by her presence and the formal note she had written asking if she could stop by early. He wasn't sure if he should kiss her, or pull out a pen and paper and begin discussing the division of their goods. So he merely held her close a moment before returning to his desk chair, frowning, the expression all the more pronounced because of the dark circles under his eyes. "You of all people don't need to make an appointment," he said.

She sat across the desk from him; stiff-backed, awkward, her hands folded in her lap. "In this case, I felt that I should, because it is business advice I need.

"I'm here because I can think of no one I would trust as much as I would you to help me now," she continued, her eyes fixed deliberately on his face.

"I don't quite understand. Are you speaking of a financial matter? Or is it something more?" he asked.

"A charitable matter. The money Gance left me is far more than I will ever need in a lifetime, so I would like to do some good with a part of it, as Winnie and Emory have with theirs."

"You could donate some to their hospital," Jonathan suggested.

"I could, but they already have enough funds to cover their expenses and there are other needs just as pressing. I have already begun searching for a building near the factories, something large with perhaps a bit of land around it. I've spoken with the Reverend Barnett, who runs a charity at St. Jude's in London, about my arrangements—"

"You visited there?"

"I'm not a fool. I wrote him, Jonathan. We met here when he came to address a woman's group about his charity.

"I've also spoken with Dr. Rhys, who operates a free clinic for the poor in our town, and with Winnie. They both suggested a building close to the tanneries. I've looked it over, and consulted with a number of masons and carpenters. It's the right place to lease, or better yet, buy outright."

The tanneries gave off a noxious smell, one that had been thought to cause no end of illness in its workers. And that neighborhood, filled with poor and desperate creatures, was hardly one he would travel through, let alone allow his wife to go there. The thought of her anywhere near that dreadful area filled him with concern, but he kept silent as she continued.

"I would like to create a cooperative rooming house for women with small children. A place where they can leave their children during the day when they go to work and be assured they will be well cared for. I want the children taught the things that will give them a better chance in life than their mothers ever had."

"So you're going to become one of
those
landladies?" he asked.

She scowled at him. "Hardly! I don't intend to profit off misery, as so many do, nor will I have unrealistic expectations regarding women's morality. I merely want to provide them with a safe place in which to live. But, yes, I do intend to charge a modest fee for the service. Perhaps in time the home might even pay for itself and I could use the profits to open another."

"A noble idea…" he began cautiously.

"But you have a concern."

"It's the area, Mina. So much thievery. What if someone tries to steal from you and things get out of hand? Or if—"

She cut him off. "I don't intend to run the place myself. I'll have a supervisor and staff for the house, and have the women themselves see to most of its upkeep. Does that satisfy you?"

"I'll be concerned every time you have to go there."

"I'll go in daylight, Jonathan. One thing the past has taught me is that I can face anything in daylight."

He reached across the desk and took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

She pulled out the papers she'd collected on the building as well as estimates from the carpenters and masons who would be needed to make it inhabitable. Jonathan recognized the name of the agent handling the building but none of the rest. "How did you find these people?" he asked.

"Through Winnie and Dr. Rhys. Many of them live in that area. It seemed wisest to use local craftsmen and add to the wealth there. But I have no idea how to determine if they're reputable."

"I have a client who owns a number of properties throughout the city. He might know of them."

"You will help, then?"

"Mina! As long as you are careful, I think the plan is admirable. Just don't name the damn place after him."

The moment he said the words, he regretted them. They reminded him and Mina both of the wall surrounding her, making them both prisoners of her wealth.

She apparently did not share his thoughts, because she placed her gloved hand over his and said sweetly, "Dr. Van Helsing's train is due at the station in less than an hour. The sun has come out again, and the air will do us both good. Shall we walk?"

They did. And during the length of the half-mile stroll, he held her arm. He patted her hand often, and when they stopped near the cathedral, kissed her on the forehead. "Whatever happens, know that I care for you," he whispered.

She looked at his face. In daylight, the circles beneath his eyes seemed deeper, his pallor too light, as if he were being possessed by the memories of those creatures and the dreams he had. "I can come home for a time, Jonathan. I would like to do that and to care for you."

"Then she would possess us both. I know it."

"Perhaps it isn't her doing the possessing," she said and kissed him again, on the lips and with such ardor that he found himself responding with open eyes, trying to see who might be staring at them.

She moved away, and they went on slowly, arm in arm, until hearing the distant train whistle, they moved more quickly toward the station.

Van Helsing was in a gruff state of mind. He'd been trying to read while on the train, but the uneven tracks made it impossible. He'd tried to meditate, but a gaggle of unruly children kept breaking through the moments of calm. Worse, he could blame no one but himself for the past two hours, since he had opted to save some money and travel by coach.

However, the sight of Mina standing beside her husband at the station cheered him. She hadn't spoken of any reconciliation in her letter, but it seemed from their expressions that things were going well.

He soon learned that their happiness had been directed less at each other than at seeing him. It troubled him that they weren't together, for after what they had been through and the love they so obviously possessed for each other, they deserved a happy ending.

He was hardly well versed in matters of the heart, but perhaps on this visit he could think of something to bring them together. He considered this on the long, silent ride to their home.

The brick house seemed charming on the outside, yet once through the doorway he was astonished at how stuffy the place seemed. His study had the same feel, but he was an old man and used to claustrophobic surroundings. Had Mina done nothing during the time she lived here?

It occurred to him that this had not been so long ago and that the couple had just been married when Dracula arrived in London. Had it only been a half year since their trials began? It seemed that they had all aged a lifetime during them.

The three settled into Jonathan's study; Van Helsing with his pipe, Jonathan with a cigar. Mina seemed the most ill at ease, moving between kitchen and parlor, bringing them tea and a light meal of sliced beef and cheese and fresh bread they had bought at a shop near the station. When Jonathan began to describe his dreams in detail, she left the room altogether to spare him the embarrassment of having to relate such erotic details in her presence.

She sat at the dining room table, sipping a second cup of tea while watching a bronze sliver of the setting sun that had forced itself under the storm clouds and through a thin crack in the heavy draperies. It crept slowly across the carpeted floor until it reached the far wall and ascended. She should leave for home now, if she were going. But now that at least a part of their little band was reunited, she was loath to abandon them and thankful that she had told Essie that she might not return until tomorrow.

As she paged through a day-old issue of the
Times
, she could hear Jonathan's voice, almost a whisper; Van Helsing's occasional, louder, reply. The words were indistinct, and she did not try to make them out.

An hour passed. The sun set, the stillness of evening marred with the distant sound of another approaching squall.

She'd just begun a second magazine when Van Helsing called her into the room. "You should both hear what little bit I know about the creature," he said.

Mina sat beside Jonathan on the sofa, the pair of them facing the doctor like two schoolchildren in the presence of a revered tutor. She wanted to correct the old man, to tell him that this was not a "creature" at all but a woman. But pupils did not correct their teachers.

"Joanna is Dracula's sister, that much is certain from the records I have studied," Van Helsing said. She was apparently of mixed Arab and European blood. Most likely her mother was a slave or servant in Vlad Dracul's castle. She was sent east with her mother when she was just a child, perhaps because the man truly cared for them both and thought they would be happier among their own.

"The mother's fate is lost in time, but Joanna apparently lived as some sort of prisoner in the East. During one of Dracula's raids, he rescued her from her captors. They have been together some little time." He smiled at this. "I would think she must miss him, and if her blood runs true with his. she will come."

"Would that Karina had written more about her," Mina commented. "But I wonder if she possesses the will to move from that crumbling ruin. She seemed quite mad when I last saw her."

"She may not have that strength," Van Helsing said. "But the so-terrible force that animates her body is tenacious. I believe she will be forced to leave that place and follow her master's plan. Jonathan's dreams are those of a victim sensing an imminent attack. Yes, she will come."

"Then why don't I dream of her? Or you? Or the others?"

"She did not feed on any of us. It is his blood in her that binds them. We can only hope that she does not feel the same terrible pull. But if she does, we must be prepared."

As soon as Van Helsing spoke the words, Mina looked at Jonathan. He tried to hide his alarm, but she knew him too well for him to succeed. As for her, she felt unusually calm. It was if the faith in Fate that Dr. Rhys had spoken of had altered her perception of life, much as the experience she had been through had altered her belief in the hereafter. Once she had been an agnostic. Now the phrase "all things on heaven and earth" came often to her mind.

She explained that she had already warned her servant. They discussed whether Jonathan should do the same with his clerks. "Not if I wish to remain in my profession," he grumbled.

"Tell them that you have been threatened by a madwoman. Make up some story to go with it so they will tell you if they see her," Mina suggested.

"Better to send them home each night well before dark and keep my reputation completely unsullied."

"And if you will die at her hands, it will be as a proper gentleman," Mina commented, her tone sounding almost innocent.

"What do you want me to do?" Jonathan shouted, then looked at her, stunned by his outburst.

"What you are doing," Van Helsing answered. "But she is right: Be aware of the greater risk you take with this discretion."

The conversation soon shifted to more mundane subjects. Van Helsing spoke of his research and his travels through England. Jonathan discussed the firm, but briefly, noting that recent events had not hurt his practice. "If anything, it seems stronger than ever," he said.

All of Mina's spare time for the past few weeks had been spent on the house she'd inherited. She could hardly speak of that. But when Van Helsing asked about her activities, she answered immediately, discussing how she met Essie and the charitable endeavor that meeting had led to.

"You must promise to make certain that you will not let the less fortunate take advantage of your woman's heart," Van Helsing warned. "The poor are more subject to temptation than those who can afford to avoid it."

"Mina has assured me that it won't be charity," Jonathan said.

With growing enthusiasm, Mina explained the rest of her plan.

"And where will you find these women who need a safe shelter?"