Mina Part 24

"Were there any witnesses?"

"A servant, I believe. According to the report I was sent, the woman was too hysterical to question. Now, I'd like to ask again, do you have any thoughts on why two men, bookstore owners with no criminal records, would suddenly become thieves?"

Winnie shook her head. "The usual need for money, I suppose. But I can swear, sir, that I never saw James Sebescue before he broke into my house and attacked me. As for his father . . ." She hesitated long enough to get the inspector's undivided interest. "If he was truly infirm, his son's death might have unbalanced him. Robbing Lord Gance could have been a simple act of revenge on someone else who was a native of Exeter. Then again, robbing Lord Gance is somewhat akin to suicide, don't you think?"

"I really don't know. I suppose that it's possible." He seemed suddenly anxious to go. He stood and handed her a card. "If you can think of any other connection, please contact me.""I'm sure more will come to me. Is Lord Gance staying in London? I'd like to send him a note. Perhaps if we confer on this, we can find a better connection."

"I believe he is."

"Then until we speak again . . ." She smiled sweetly, as if she'd just made him a promise, then led him to the door. "Good day,"

she said and closed it softly behind him.

After dinner that evening, Winnie told her husband everything that had happened to Mina. Like Jonathan, he believed Mina to be unbalanced. Unlike Jonathan, he had no valid reason for a.s.suming otherwise.

"I am going to London tomorrow, Emory," she declared, the use of his Christian making it clear that she was utterly serious. "I have to see Mina. It's the least I can do."

"After being attacked by a fanatic, and tying to police about his motives, I think you've done enough, Mrs. Beason." He waited for her scowl before adding, "But since you'll undoubtedly go whether I approve or not, I might as well give my blessing. You have a tremendous heart, dearest. It's your greatest virtue."

"Is it?" She walked to the other side of the table and lifted her skirts, straddling him on the dining chair. Before he could protest, she kissed him with so much enthusiasm that she nearly tipped over the chair, and the table as well.

"One of your greatest virtues."

"Better." She kissed the bare spot on the top of his head.

"You're not going until morning, are you?"

"On the earliest train. I'll stay with Patty Walker."

"Be sure to take an extra five pounds," he said.

"Whatever for?"

"The fines, dearest. The last few times you stayed with Miss Pat, weren't you arrested for stoning members of Parliament?"

"We merely demonstrated for the vote," she said and gave him a good-natured jab in the ribs before leaving him just long enough to lock the doors and shut the drapes.

TWENTY-THREE

I

The day after he received it, Gance's wound threatened to become infected. The doctor treated it with alcohol and poultices, the patient's pain with morphine, until Gance was no longer certain that he would survive.

And in his delirium, his dreams grew terrible-of torture, of demons, of a h.e.l.l he'd created for himself so many years before.

A less determined man might have peacefully pa.s.sed on; Gance fought death with every bit of effort he possessed. When Winnie Beason arrived, she found him sitting up in bed in a mauve silk dressing gown, devouring a huge plate of eggs and sausage and fried potatoes.

"You look remarkably well for a man greviously wounded just a few days ago," Winnie said.

"Willpower, Mrs. Beason. I h.o.a.rd it for truly important matters."

She laughed. He started to, then winced and settled for a smile instead. "What brings you here?" he asked. "Certainly not concern for my health."

"I'm looking for Mina Harker."

"Here? Have you heard rumors I've somehow missed?"

"Mina said she was meeting you in London. If she is not here, I would think you'd know where I should look."

"For what reason? Do you have the rest of the translation?"

"The rest of what?""I went with her to find Anton Ujvari. He had burned the book, I a.s.sume just before he was attacked, since the cover must have been pulled from his fireplace. The man would not have burned it if he hadn't finished the work. According to a letter he never mailed, he had placed it in a safe place. I a.s.sume he meant that he'd sent it to his client, one Mrs. Beason of Exeter." Gance laughed. "You aren't Mina's only confidant, Winnie dear."

"I see that, but sadly Anton Ujvari took his secret to the grave. Now, where is Mina?"

"I don't know, though I have a good idea where to start looking for her. Now, if I am to crawl off what until yesterday was my deathbed to help you, I need some incentive. Winnie, don't scowl. Reach into the drawer in the night table and look at the sheets Mina gave me."

Winnie did as he asked and recognized them immediately. She sighed. "I'd give you the rest of the translation to read if I had it. I do not. Now, please, for Mina's sake, where is she?"

"You're certain that she's not at home?" Winnie nodded.

"Then she has to be at Seward's," he said.

"Are you certain? If we go and aren't certain, Seward can lie."

"Seward will lie in any event. But, yes, she's there. My driver took her and Harker there. I would think that someone like Mina would be too precious for Seward to release, and he is persuasive enough to convince Jonathan that his wife's hysteria could be protected there." Gance's logic was impeccable, and his grin implied that he knew it. "The question is, now that we're certain, what shall we do?"

II

Each night the mists closed around the asylum at Purfleet. Each night Mina stared out at them then went to sleep on the bed she had pushed close to the window. With the breezes soft and damp against her skin, she dreamed of her last visit m this house. The Maudsley book implied that a recurring dream meant something more than its face value.

If so, Mina thought, hers meant freedom.

From convention. From conventional relationships. And, G.o.d knew, from Jack Seward.

She recalled how Lucy had described Seward's straightforward, rather nervous proposal. When Lucy turned him down, he'd asked if there was another suitor. He must have been pleased to hear that there was and that he had not been rejected for himself alone.

Mina wondered why he was not married, for truthfully any intelligent woman could control Kim easily. Perhaps they all saw through him, as she did. The more she infatuated him with her wit, her helpfulness, her glowing references to him in her journal, the more she understood the incredible ego of the man.

Yet he trusted her too, enough that she might have escaped that morning. They had been walking the grounds when a sudden emergency in the asylum called him back. She had asked to wait for him on the terrace, and he had agreed.

Had she been certain that this was not a test of her reliability, she might have gone. Instead, she was content to bide her time here with the staff and the lunatics, not certain to which group she belonged.

Today Mina had achieved a breakthrough with the blank-faced girl who'd cried when she heard Browning. She had taken the girl to her own room, helped her bathe and wash her hair. When she was clean, Mina gave her fresh clothes then combed out her hair in front of the mirror. The work took most of the afternoon, and when she was through, the girl smiled and shyly whispered her name, "Annie." She beamed when Mina said her own in return.

"Annie is reaching out to you," Seward said when she told him. "You're a woman. Perhaps she feels more comfortable being with you. You would be a great a.s.set to this place."

"Is that an offer, Jack?"

"I hadn't meant it quite that way, but yes, I think it is. When you're well enough to decide what you want to do, consider it."

Night six, she thought, as she brushed out her hair and extinguished the light. A long howl coming from the lawn, like the cry of a wolf or a large dog, made her heart race with fear. She ran to the window and stared down at the grounds.Near the wall, she saw a figure of a man dressed in a dark inverness, a large hound walking beside him.

As she watched through the bars of her window, a carriage rode slowly by on the road. In its light, she saw the man in the inverness more clearly, the whisps of white-blond hair falling over his forehead. At that distance, she could not have been certain that Gance had come for her, but the presence of the dog made it clear. This was a wolfhound the size of Byron. Gance had told her that there were few so large.

She hastily lit the lamp, held it up to the window and extinguished it again.

The carriage lamp dimmed then flared once more.

Signal received, she saw Gance open the carriage door. When dog and master were inside, the carriage moved slowly on in the direction of Car - fax.

She heard the howling again after sunrise, ran to her window and saw the carriage in the light, dog and master once more walking on the edge of the road. She grabbed a white scarf from her dressing table and waved. Though Gance must have seen her waving, he wisely gave no indication.

Again the carriage moved on; this time she saw it turn into the old drive leading to Carfax. At the place where the wall between the estate and the asylum was highest, it disappeared from view. Though Mina watched for some time, it did not reappear farther down the drive.

Gance waited for her! She dressed quickly, then sat and wrote quickly in her journal.

I asked Jack yesterday if he would have some work for me, and he said he would when I was well. I asked him when that would be, and he said when Jonathan decides so. "After all," he noted in his logical way, "if you thought Jonathan delusional or despondent, would you want him to determine when his treatment would end?"

"Do you think I'm ill?" I asked him.

"Obsessed," he replied. "But so much better."

And it's true. I am better, and if Jonathan would only come, I would show him how much better. I find it terrible that he would leave me here so coldly after all we've been through.

I've made a decision. Jack, I know you will read this and I want to put your mind at ease. I am going back to Jonathan. I will face him and demand to he released from my marriage. He had grounds, and once it is done and I am free of him, I will come back and work with you if you will still have me.

Please do not be concerned. I have the means to travel. I will write as soon as I am home.

She returned the book to its drawer, then knocked on her door until one of the aids unlocked it. "I would like to have breakfast alone with Anne," she said. "Dr. Seward gave me permission to work with her."

"It will be ready in an hour, madam. You can dine in the room where you read to her."

They ate together. Mina talked a great deal. Annie, as always, said little, though Mina was certain the girl listened and understood. Seward joined them for tea, then agreed to Mina's request that the three of them take a walk on the grounds. "She looks so much better, doesn't she?" Mina asked him, knowing it was the clean clothes, the combed hair, the kindness that made it appear so.

"She does," he said. His arm was linked with Mina's while Annie moved ahead of them going in the direction Mina had pointed out to her, toward the corner of the grounds where the wall to Carfax and the main road met, moving faster than Mina walked, increasing the distance between herself and the couple.

When she was near the road, Annie turned to Mina and saw her nod. With a shriek, the girl bolted, jumping the low wall and disappearing into the stand of willows and brush on the opposite side of the road.

"Go after her, Jack. I'll get help."

Seward ran. He caught Annie easily and took her, squealing with happiness at how she'd duped him, back to the house. Only after he'd given her to the care of an aide did he realize that Mina had gone.

By then, Gance's hired carriage had pulled out of Carfax with Mina, Gance and Winnie hiding in the back. Though Mina was fairly certain that Seward would believe her letter to be true, they did not return to Gance's house. Instead, they traveled south through London, stopping only long enough to give the dog to the care of a servant before continuing on to Croydon. After they made arrangements for rooms, Gance suggested that they eat.

"Rest first," Mina said. "You're hurt. Your wound even opened on the ride." She spoke of it so naturally, as if his bleeding were common knowledge. He lifted the corner of his shirt and saw the tiny circle of red. Winnie gaped at her. Mina shrugged. "I just know," she said.

They compromised and dined in a private room, Gance stretched out on a bed, the women at the table beside the bed. Gance ate carefully, almost as daintily as the women, taking small bites and swallowing with some difficulty. His breathing was shallow, his expression somewhat strained, as if hiding his pain were becoming as great a trial as the pain itself.

"Now that you're a free woman, Mina dear, where do you want to go?" Winnie asked.

"I never thought of that. I only wanted to be free of Seward," Mina replied. "You've brought me this far, Gance. Where would you take me?"

"We can go to France. I have friends in Paris. Your husband won't be able to touch you there," Gance suggested. Winnie shook her head. "Don't," she said.

"What should I do, then? Go back to Jonathan?"

"You have to face him."

"He will do what Millicent wants. He will do what convention demands. I'll face him, Winnie, but only when I have proof that what I feel is not some delusion that Seward or another like him can repair."

Winnie pointed to the translation. "Give him this. Tell him how you feel."

"It isn't enough. I need proof, not just for him but for me. I'll find it . . ." Her voice trailed off, the sudden thought of what she needed to face having unnerved her.

"At Dracula's castle," Gance finished for her. "I'll go with you."

"You're in no shape to travel," Winnie snapped.

"I will be soon enough. A day or two in Paris followed by a luxurious trip east in a private car will be easy enough on my recovery. By the time we reach Transylvania, I'll be ready for the overland ride. If I'm not, we can find Van Helsing. We ought to find him anyway, unless we want to end up permanent residents of that castle."

"You would do this for me?" Mina asked incredulously.

"No, Mrs. Harker. I do it for me. This is the sort of adventure Old Uncle Byron himself would have relished." He raised his mug of ale in a jaunty salute to the dead. "Since it's settled then, Winnie and I will leave you for the night," Mina said, kissing him on the forehead.

As soon as the women were in their own room, Winnie took her friend's hand and said, "Mina dear, may I request a favor?"

"Of course, anything."

"I want to take the translation home. Then, in a week or two, I'll take it to your husband."