were gathered around him.
Like a gaggle of vultures. Looking for a way to turn blood and death to their advantage.
“Very well, sir,” he said, and began to talk.
He spoke for no more than ten minutes, but as he finished it was obvious that his tale had divided the men in the room into two camps. Primrose, Robinson and Campbell-Bannerman were looking at him as though he were utterly mad, their faces contorted with obvious outrage that they had been forced to listen to such foolishness. Asquith, Spencer and Gladstone were ashen-faced, their eyes wide with horror, and Van Helsing knew that these three men believed what he had told them.
“Are there any questions?” he asked, looking squarely at the Prime Minister.
Gladstone opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Secretary Robinson. The Prime Minister gave him a look that suggested he was going to regret having done so at some point in the near future, but allowed the Marquess to speak.
“This is preposterous,” Robinson said, his voice trembling with indignation. “You’re asking me to believe in men who can fly, have superhuman strength, drink blood and live forever, and moreover you’re suggesting that there is going to be some form of epidemic of these behaviours? Behaviours that can only be destroyed by exsanguination or the obliteration of the heart?”
“Exactly, sir,” Van Helsing replied.
Robinson turned to Gladstone. “Prime Minister, this has surely gone beyond a joke. I fail to see what—”
“Shut up, George,” Gladstone said, evenly.
The Colonial Secretary looked as though he might burst. Primrose opened his mouth to protest but the Prime Minister waved a derisory hand at him.
“Not another word, from any of you,” he said. “I appreciate that what Professor Van Helsing has just told us is unsettling, horrifying, even. And I can also appreciate why some of you, perhaps all of you, might have trouble believing his tale. But I have it on good authority that events beneath the Lyceum took place exactly as he describes, and we’ve all heard the stories about the journey he and his companions made to Transylvania last year. So I confess my inclination to believe him.”
It is possible I had this man wrong, Van Helsing thought. There is an intelligence at work here that I had not given credit for.
“And as Prime Minister,” Gladstone continued. “It is my responsibility to do what I believe to be in the best interests of the Empire, especially where potential threats to its security are concerned. And that is what I will do. Unless anyone wishes to object?”
He got up from behind the desk and looked closely at each of the men stood behind him, daring them to speak against him. Van Helsing watched, fascinated, as Robinson, literally shaking with righteous indignation, made as if to do so, until Campbell-Bannerman placed a restraining hand on his arm and the Colonial Secretary looked away.
“Very well,” said the Prime Minister, stepping out from behind the desk and approaching Van Helsing. “Professor,” he said. “Popular opinion would suggest that you are our finest authority on the matters you have just outlined. Would you agree?”
The old man allowed that there was some truth in that particular rumour, and Gladstone nodded.
“In which case,” he continued. “I am prepared to make your expertise an official position in Her Majesty’s Government. Clandestinely, of course. Are you interested?”
“What would the position entail?”
“The investigation and elimination of the condition that you have just explained to us so compellingly. With authority recognised by every appropriate governmental department, annually budgeted expenses, and co-operation guaranteed by all agencies of the Empire. That’s what it would entail.”
The Prime Minister looked at Professor Van Helsing and smiled. “So,” he said. “Does that interest you?”
*
Dr Seward extinguished a Turkish cigarette that smelt to Van Helsing as if it had been lightly laced with opium.
“And?” he asked. “What did you tell him?”
The men were sitting in the red leather armchairs that dominated the comfortable, wood-panelled study of Arthur Holmwood’s father. Van Helsing’s valet had driven his master back to the townhouse on Eaton Square as soon as the meeting at Horse Guards had ended, and Arthur had led them upstairs to the room in which his father, Lord Godalming, had spent much of the later years of his life. The men had lit cigarettes and pipes and the old man had just finished telling them about his meeting with the Prime Minister when John Seward asked his question.
“I told him I needed time to think it over,” Van Helsing replied. “I asked for twenty-four hours, which he granted me. I am to deliver my reply by noon tomorrow, in writing.”
“What do you intend your answer to be?” asked Harker. He had a deep bell pipe in his hand that had gone out. He was holding it absently, as though he had forgotten about it.
“In truth, I do not know,” Van Helsing confessed. “I think in all likelihood I will accept his proposal, but my happiness at doing so will rather depend on the question I am about to ask you all.”
The Professor set a wide tumbler of cognac on to a shelf beside his seat. He had returned from Whitehall with his mind racing at the possibilities Gladstone’s offer might afford him, but also shaken deeply by the responsibilities it would bring, and he had gratefully accepted Arthur’s offer to open his father’s drinks cabinet a little earlier than was usual.
“Gentlemen,” he began. “We have all witnessed with our own eyes more of the darkness that inhabits this world than most, and more than any sane man would care to have seen. I flatter myself we did a fine thing in the Transylvanian mountains, something we can all be proud to have played a part in, and if any of you wishes to let your involvement in these matters end there, let me promise you that neither I, nor anyone else, will think even the slightest bit less of you for it. Each of us has more than paid our dues, and a peaceful life, untainted by blood and screams, is not something to give up lightly.”
He paused and looked around the study.
“Part of me believes that to ask more of you is a cruelty on my part, one that none of you deserves. But that is what I am going to do. Because I believe a plague is coming to this nation, to all nations, and that Harold Norris was only the prototype. This morning you all claimed to believe this as well, but I ask you to consider how firmly you believe it, for a very simple reason. If we are right, then we are the only men in the Empire with any experience of what is to come. And I cannot stand by and see innocent blood spilled, innocent souls polluted for eternity, knowing that I could have saved even one of them. We swore that we would be vigilant, that were the Count ever to return we would deal with him once more. He has not, and I don’t believe he ever will. But the evil that inhabited him has survived, and is abroad.”
Van Helsing reached for his tumbler with a shaking hand, and drained the glass.
“I will accept the Prime Minister’s offer tomorrow. But when I asked for a period of time to consider it, I also informed him that were certain people to agree to be involved, they would be allowed to do so. I informed him that this was not negotiable. So I am asking for your help, as you once asked for mine. I wish I could offer
