There was a knock at the door.
"Not now," Grayson said.
"Thought you'd want to hear this right away," said Holcombe, coming in without being invited.
"For God's sake, what is it. Ian?"
Simon Hawke
The Dracula Caper
"You must have a guardian angel whispering in your ear." said Holcombe. "You were right. I compared those hair samples of Dr. Doyle's with some samples of hair from the man killed in the Hotel Metropole. Identical. No question about it. Whoever that chap was, we've got our Whitechapel killer right here in the morgue. Thought you could use some good news for a change."
"You're absolutely certain?" Grayson said. "There can be no mistake?"
"Feel free to confirm my findings with Dr. Doyle if you like," said Holcombe. "I can understand your wanting to be certain, but he'll tell you the same thing. I guarantee it. This one's our man, all right. No doubt about it."
"Thank you. Ian." Grayson said.
"Pleasure to be of service." Holcombe said. "If you feel like celebrating, I'll buy you a drink."
"Sorry. Ian, I'd like to, but I still have a great deal more to do and I simply cannot spare the time. Thank you just the same,"
"Right. Another time, then."
"Another time."
Holcombe left with a casual "Evening, miss" to Linda. Grayson stared at her, frustrated, his stride broken. He was getting nowhere and he had no real grounds on which to hold her except for the forged passport, but if he detained her on that basis, that might be the end of it and he was certain that she knew more than she was telling hint. Somehow, all these things were interconnected and he felt that if he could only locate the main thread, he could unravel the tangled web.
"Very well, madame," he said wearily, "I see no point in detaining you any longer. Perhaps you really are innocent of any wrongdoing, but I would be far easier to convince if you were to contact me the moment you saw any of your fellow 'research associates' again. I would very much like to speak with them. I am afraid that I shall have to hold on to your forged passport. I suggest that you contact the American consulate in regards to obtaining a genuine one. Might I inquire as to where you will be staying?''
"I–I don't know yet," she said, looking relieved and confused at the same time. "I shall have to make other arrangements. I really don't understand any of this. Right now, all I wish to do is rest, then see about my passport and return home as quickly as possible. I think I have had about enough of England!”
”Try not to think too harshly of us, madame." Grayson said. "And do please let me know where you will be staying the moment you make your new arrangements.”
"Yes, Iwill. I don't want any more trouble. Am I free to go now?"
Grayson indicated the door. "One of my men will escort you out."
The moment she left. Grayson went to the door. "Thorpe!" Constable
Thorpe came rushing over. "Sir!"
"That young woman who just left, follow her. Don't let her see you. Let me know where she goes and everything she does. And if you lose her, I'll have your guts for garters, understand?"
"Yes, sir. You can count on me."
"Right, Go to it."
He watched Thorpe hurry off, wondering what the young American woman's connection was to the horrible events in Whitechapel. It wasn't over yet. There were still linkages to follow. Little by little, he was collecting the pieces of the puzzle. There were many more than he had thought. The difficulty was in making them all fit together. The dead man had no name as yet, but Grayson had an excellent memory for faces and he felt certain that he had seen that face before.
There were already vampires and werewolves abroad in Whitechapel, so Finn Delaney was not greatly surprised to see a ghost. He was searching the warehouse district when Dr. Darkness materialized in the fog-shrouded street before him, his body not quite substantial. The lamppost across the street was visible right through him. Dressed in a long grey wool Inverness, carrying a blackthorn walking stick and wearing a shapeless felt hat with a wide brim, he seemed to be a creature of the mist.
With a loud clatter of horses hooves upon the street. a coach suddenly came careening through the fog. The man who was faster than light stood motionless upon the cobblestones. The driver of the coach suddenly saw a man standing before him in the street and shouted, trying to rein in. Too late, The horses, blindered and unable to see well directly ahead of them even under conditions of good visibility, barreled right through him.
Darkness tached. translating into tachyons and disappearing, reappearing beside Delaney even before his image several yards away had vanished from Delaney's sight. The horses reared and the coachman fought to get them back under control, but the animals bolted, panic-stricken, running away with the coach, the clatter of their hoofbeats receding quickly in the fog.
"Where did that idiot learn to drive?" said Darkness irritably.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite deus ex machina," Delaney said. "Evening. Doc. Come to lend a hand? We sure could use the help."
"You're beyond help, if you ask me," said Darkness. "Why on earth would anyone wish to wander around in the middle of the night in this godforsaken slum?"
"Well, if it were up to me, I'd rather be in the Caribbean," Delaney said, huddling in his coat against the chill, "but as it happens. I've got a job to do. I'm looking for a needle in a haystack, only in this case the needle happens to be a werewolf. A werewolf and a vampire, to be exact. At least two vampires, at last count."
"I knew it," Darkness said. "It was bound to happen. You've lost your mind at last."
"No, I haven't, but the man who's responsible for this mess has." Delaney said.
"Our old friend Drakov has teamed up with the former head of S.O.G.'s Project Infiltrator and he's whipped up some monsters to release on Victorian London. A werewolf created by genetic engineering. If you survive an attack, you come down with a case of lycanthropy you just wouldn't believe. And he's created a genetically engineered vampire, as well, don't ask me how, whose bite is equally contagious. They've been killing people in this area and half the city believes they've got another Jack the Ripper on their hands. There'll be mass hysteria if they discover the truth. We're supposed to get the whole thing hack under control somehow and Drakov knows we're here. We've already lost several members of our team. We're getting nowhere. Steiger's clocked ahead to ask the Old Man for some reinforcements. We've had some bad ones, Doc, but this mission is particularly nasty."
"I see," said Darkness. "Well, that explains why Forrester has clocked out to the Minus Side."
"He's done what?' Delaney said.
"He's here, somewhere," Darkness said. "I tached in to headquarters to see him and he was nowhere to be found. Lieutenant Cary informed me that he had clocked out to Minus Time with Steiger, leaving her with instructions that if he had not returned within five minutes, Plus Relative Time, she was to report him Absent Without Leave to Director General Vargas. She was beside herself with worry and begged me to go after him. Unfortunately, the reason for my visit was that I had discovered a problem with the symbiotracers I gave you. Apparently, they are not quite perfected. Their cellular chronocircuitry is subject to organic degeneration. Steiger received his before any of you did and I can no longer home in on him. I was able to track you down, but I have no way of telling how long your symbiotracer will remain active. I shall have to issue new ones to you periodically until I can solve the problem of the degeneration. In the meantime, I have no way of finding Forrester and Steiger."