Séance for a Vampire by Fred Saberhagen (ebook reader macos .TXT) 📕

I had been introduced to Merivale, as I had been presented to Armstrong, to Rebecca Altamont, and to others, as Mr. Prince, one of the members of the small organization that the great detective had begun to put together in recent years–particularly since Watson had moved out of the baker Street lodgings.

Merivale, as he talked to me now, appeared a little dubious about Mr. Prince–or would have been dubious had not Sherlock Holmes solemnly vouched for me.

On hearing that I had just come from Norberton House, the inspector naturally wanted to know whether I had spoken to Sarah Kirkaldy there, and, if so, what I found out from her.

“Yes, I was privileged to talk to the bereaved girl–she is a sweet soul.” Out of the corner of my eye I beheld Watson, who had just entered the room, staring at me. What had possessed me to make Mr. Prince such a cloying individual in the eyes of Scotland Yard, I really do not know. “Her brother’s funeral is Saturday.”

“Right, and I plan to be there. How about you, Mr. Holmes?”

Holmes, who had now come in as well, shook his head. “My plans are as yet uncertain.”

Merivale was also determined to interview the young woman yet again. I did my best to discourage him from the effort, without seeming to try to do so.

Despite my warnings to myself, I was already beginning to take a personal interest in Sarah. Ah, was ever woman in such humor wooed? Was ever woman in such humor won?

Richard the Third. Shakespeare. Remind me to tell you a story about him some day. I mean the poet, not the king. Though our careers did somewhat overlap (he died, I think, in 1485) I never met that monarch. I hear myself beginning to babble, but never mind. I told you at the start that certain aspects of this tale of séances tend to make me nervous–and we are getting closer to them.

Ah, that Edwardian summer! The delights of young love–no, of course I hardly qualified as young myself–but all the more delightful to my aging bones was the experience of youth, the gift of Sarah’s warm young skin, and later her blood, and our shared laughter. Yes, during the following nights and days, I did that much for Sarah Kirkaldy; taught her how to begin to laugh again, gave her strong armament with which to face the fear and murder of the world.

I think it was a vintage year in many ways.

In 1903, motorcars were becoming commonplace in britain–where there were already more than eight thousand such machines–and in much of the United States, where that very summer, the Ford Motor Company was being organized and the Wright brothers were hard at work preparing for their first successful flight, eventually to take place on 17 December.

In Switzerland, twenty-four-year-old Albert Einstein, no doubt enjoying a feeling of security by reason of his newly attained degree in physics and his steady job at the Swiss patent office, was in the process of marrying a young lady he had met at the university in Zürich. And in all quarters of the globe, the æther was being frequently disturbed by experiments with wireless telegraphy, carried out by researchers of several nations.

While waiting in one of our rooms at the inn for Cousin Sherlock and Martin Armstrong to join us, so we could pay our nocturnal visit to the cemetery, Watson and I relaxed with separate newspapers. I had taken up a recent edition of The Times of London and pondered some of the articles. I think I even read a few of them aloud to Watson.

I reflected upon how much my understanding of the british had– as I thought–improved since my first visit to the islands some twelve years earlier (see The Dracula Tape) and yet how much I still found in their ways to marvel at.

The pages of today’s edition alone offered much food for contemplation:

EGYPTIAN HALL–England’s HOME OF MYSTERY.

Established 30 years. Manager Mr. J.N. Maskelyne...

I read no further under that heading, being already confronted with quite enough mystery.

CAUTION–A.S. LLOYD’S EUXESIS–

for shaving without soap, water, or brush...

PERRY & CO.—ELECTRIC LIGHT FITTINGS...

Money Spent on Education is the best of Investments...

LATEST INTELLIGENCE–

THE SOMALILAND OPERATIONS.

Prisoners and deserters state that a british force is at Galadi and that Mullah has moved from bur to Gumburro with his footmen...

With regard to the above item, the modern reader may note that the more things change, et cetera...

At Bangor petty sessions yesterday Mr. Horace Plunkett was summoned for furiously driving a motorcar along Holyhead Road. Evidence was given by two solicitors that the motorcar passed them at great speed and nearly upset their vehicle. They estimated its speed at 50 mph. A fine of £5, with costs, was imposed.

The legal speed limit in britain, I remembered, had recently been increased to 20 miles per hour.

THE AMERICA CUP TRIALS...

TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES: SIR–I fear the 60 hours rain which we enjoyed on June 13, 14, 15 has utterly destroyed the prospects of partridge shooting for this year, at least in the southern Midlands...

BUER’S PILES CURE–gives instant relief...

CRYSTAL PALACE–MASSED BANDS–GREAT CONCERT...

WEATHER–Generally fair to fine and warm, for the next three days...

TWENTY-FIVE POUNDS REWARD FOR EVIDENCE which will lead to the Conviction of Driver or Owner of MOTORCAR which, between 4 and 5 o’clock on Wednesday afternoon, ran into and knocked down two polo ponies...

A BEAUTIFUL HOME, 45 minutes from London amidst delightful scenery on the Kent and Surrey borders, to be SOLD, comprising a choice family mansion and heavily timbered park and woodlands of 300 to 700 acres as desired...

I had always found the prospect tempting, of being able to enjoy such an estate in rural England. Alas, my previous attempt along that line, some twelve years earlier (again, see The Dracula Tape), had taught me that such dreams were only folly for Prince Dracula–or Mr. Prince.

COAL–LOWEST SUMMER PRICES...

EXEMPTION of DOGS from VIVISECTION

Petitions to Parliament for the above are now being issued post-free...

EMPLOYMENT-OF-CHILDREN BILL...

NERVOUS BREAKDOWNS, Neuritis,