Chapter 4

The next morning, I arrived early at Baker Street. Holmes was already up. We sat in his study, sharing a breakfast of fresh scones, with orange jam and tea, which Mrs. Hudson had prepared.

He asked, “What is you professional opinion of this woman Drusilla, Doctor? Is she mad, like Miss Halfrich said?”

“There is a strong possibility that she is.” I told him. “However, Mr. William Farnsworth is pleased with her company. On the other hand, it is very obvious why he is reluctant to introduce her to his mother; especially considering the old-er woman’s condition.”

He asked, “Is he now a vampire? Is she?”

“I was not sure.” I told him. “The lights were dim, and they did not stand close enough, for me to get a good look at their teeth. Thank the Good Lord. When we were introduced, I did shake hands with her. Her hand was very cold to the touch.”

Holmes finished a scone and wiped his mouth. Then he said, “So Mr. William Farnsworth wants me to clear his name.”

“He says he’s not the only suspect.”

“Indeed. Someone who attended Professor Moriarty’s get-together was the culprit.”

I told him, “I agree. Someone who heard Mr. Reginald Carter’s statement about a railroad spike in the head.”

“Someone who said she agreed with him.”

I asked, “Miss Halfrich?”

“She was not at all troubled by the news of his murder, or its method.”

“You did say Holmes that she’s a demon. Is Miss Halfrich your suspect?”

“One of them Watson.”

“And who are the others?”

He said, “Don’t forget the two who shared our box at the theater last night.”

I said, “The Irishman, who was addressed only as ‘Angel’, by the woman named Darla?”

“A very large and strong Irishman Watson. Strong enough to drive a spike through a man’s skull; which Miss Halfrich is not. He was also at the Professor’s get-together. We should go and question them.”

I had put a cup in my mouth. Now I choked, spraying the tea onto my trousers and the carpet.

“I apologize to Mrs. Hudson.” I told him. “Are you suggesting that you and I at-tempt to interrogate a pair of vampires?”

“Yes Watson. Along with a wish granting Vengeance Demon. If we want to clear the good name of William Farnsworth, if he is innocent, we have to hear what they have to say about the killing of Reginald Carter. Your patient, the mother of Mr. William Farnsworth, will undoubtedly be grateful.”

“But vampires?”

“All we need to do is hold crucifixes between them and ourselves.”

“But what about a wish granting vengeance demon? What do we put between her and ourselves?”

“Elementary my dear Watson. We shall not make any wishes in her presence.”

There was a knocking at the door. Mrs. Hudson answered. Then she entered the study and said, “A Miss Halfrich is here to see you Mr. Holmes.”

He said, “Show her right in.”

Mrs. Hudson went out and Holmes said, “Remember, don’t speak any wishes.”

Miss Halfrich entered the study, dressed simply, and carrying a fairly large hand-bag. Holmes and I rose. That morning the rascally expression was gone from her face. She was deeply distressed.

She said, “I apologize for laughing at you gentlemen last night. I simply thought that the idea of William Farnsworth being a danger to anyone was preposterous. I was wrong.”

She reached into her handbag and said, “Last night, this was thrown through my downstairs window.”

She drew a railroad spike from her handbag. We stepped up to her. I examined the spike.

“There’s dried blood on it Holmes.” I exclaimed.

The lady said nervously, “It is the blood of Reginald Carter.”

Holmes asked, “Do you know that for certain?”

She said, “Who else could it have come from?”

“The spike that killed Mr. Carter,” he told her, “is now in possession of Scotland Yard. I strongly doubt that young Mr. Farnsworth, would know its exact location, or have any idea how to retrieve it.”

I asked Miss Halfrich, “What time did this occur?”

“Around 4 o’clock this morning, I was awakened by the sound of the window breaking. The maid and I went downstairs and found the shattered window glass on the carpet, along with that dreadful thing.”

I said, “It could not have been thrown by William Farnsworth. He was waiting for me when I arrived home last night. He requested that I ask Mr. Holmes to clear his good name. I have known Mr. Farnsworth for as long as his mother has been my patient, and in all that time, he has been deserving of a good name.”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Holmes asked, “Tell me Miss Halfrich. Is there anyone else you know, who might have a reason to want to frighten you?”

“None that I know of. I wish I knew.”

“Are you certain?” he asked. “You were escorted to the theater by Professor Mo-riarty, and you identified two vampires, who attend his get-together. They are all very dangerous people.”

“My life had been rather boring.” she explained, “I thought they were very exciting people.”

“Indeed.” I told her, “There is nothing more exciting than being shot at and missed, or having a blood caked railroad spike thrown through your window at 4 o’clock in the morning, but I do not recommend either activity, as a cure for boredom.”

Holmes said, “I suspect this vandalism was the work of the two vampires who you identified to us last night. Darla and the fellow she kept addressing as ‘An-gel’. They saw you speaking with me. They may have assumed that you identified them. This blood covered spike was a warning for you to say no more to us.”

The lady put a hand to her mouth. She began to tremble. “Then I shouldn’t be here.” she said.

“Tell me.” Holmes asked, “Do you know where this ‘Angel’ and Darla can be lo-cated?”

“I wish I knew.” she said. “I wish this was all ended. Don’t both of you wish it was over?”

I was about to express agreement when Holmes held up his hand.

He said, “Both Dr. Watson and I have more sense than to express any kind of a wish, in the presence of a wish granting Vengeance Demon, Miss Halfrek.”

As soon as he spoke the demon name, the lady’s demeanor changed. She ceased being the trembling, distressed young lady, and once again had the rascally smile, that we’d seen on her face the night before.

“So you know me.” She said, “It was foolish to think that even I could fool the brilliant detective Sherlock Holmes.”

He said, “Then try being honest Miss Halfrich. Tell us what is really going on.”

She laughed. “I cannot, unless you say that as a wish, Mr. Holmes.”

“I’m not a fool madam,” he told her, “and neither is Dr. Watson. You on the other hand, are obligated by law, to tell us what you know, without resorting to any kind of so called black magic.”

“What is really going on,” she said, “is that I have no desire to clear the name of William Farnsworth. He is now a vampire. If Reginald Carter was not killed by him, then someone else surely was, and you were correct Mr. Holmes. I may be his next victim.”

I said, “But you are a demon.”

“I am also a human being Doctor.”

Then she said, “I need a pen and paper.”

Miss Halfrich stepped over to Holmes’ writing desk. She picked the pen out of its ink well, and jotted a few marks on a slip of paper. Then she came over to Holmes, and handed him what she’d just written.

The woman said, “Be at that address at 7:30 promptly, this evening.”

Then she asked, “Did you gentlemen enjoy last night’s performance?”

“I did indeed.” I told her. “Misters Gilbert and Sullivan have another smash on their hands. I’m certain the show will have a very long run.”

“I agree.” she said. “I also enjoyed their play ‘The Mikado’. It contains a song which has lyrics that I think the great Sherlock Holmes might agree with.”

Miss Halfrich sang:

“My object all sublime,

I shall achieve in time,

To make the punishment

Fit the crime,

The punishment fit the crime;

And to make each prisoner’s

‘pent,

Unwillingly represent,

A source of innocent merriment.

Of innocent merriment.”

“Madam!” He spoke sharply. “I do not agree with those lyrics! I take no joy in any criminal’s punishment!

He quoted another Gilbert and Sullivan song; not singing but speaking.

“’When constabulary duty’s to

be done, to be done,

A policeman’s lot is not a

happy one.’”

She said, “But the lot of a vengeance demon is happy, Mr. Holmes. Now when you arrive at that address you must knock three times. Then, whether you agree with those lyrics or not, you must sing them to the person who opens the door. Good day gentlemen.”

Miss Halfrich then departed.

I told Holmes. “Mrs. Farnsworth was right, she is a dreadful woman.”

He crumpled the slip of paper with the address she’d given him.

“Watson.” Holmes said, “The game is afoot.”

I said, “Indeed, and you and I are the game.”

“No. We are the ones who the wish granting Vengeance Demon has just attempted to send on a wild goose chase; while she hunts down Mr. William Farnsworth; and she has taken the railroad spike with her.”