15 September 1898
It succeeded—this plan that I have spent all summer orchestrating has finally succeeded! The prey has eluded me, it’s true, but now I know his name and his face. There is nowhere he can run now.
They all came, all those I had reason to suspect. The ruse of a social dinner, in aid of broadening the membership of our city’s business association, seemed to have deceived them all.
It was maddening at first. They all passed every test I had devised. All entered without being invited—but perhaps written invitations suffice. All appeared in the mirrors I carefully placed about the foyer and dining salon. Some arrived with wives, overdressed and as respectable and ordinary as any merchant wives. All ate the fowl, despite the heavy dose of garlic in the sauce. None cowered before the crucifix I set on the mantel, or the crosses woven into the pattern of the tablecloth. They seemed an average selection of foreign businessmen, some pompous and loud, some quiet and careful, some charming and astute.
As the evening wore on, I had almost given up in despair and was prepared to send away Collins, who stood guard in the hallway in the guise of a servant, and the men he had hired. I left the parlour and proceeded to my study, confident that Collins would follow me to receive his instructions.
The door was open when I arrived and I knew at once that I was not alone. I had not made this room off limits, of course, and so a fire burned low in the fireplace, casting a faint, flickering light that let me see the man standing in the shadows by the far wall. He was staring at the shelves of books there. I had time to realize that those shelves housed my collection of occult volumes—and that the fire could hardly have shed enough light for any normal man to read the titles there—when he turned around.
As his eyes flared red, I knew that he was the one I sought. Once recognized, it came as clear as day and I wondered how I could have looked at that narrow face, those pale eyes and not have seen it immediately.
But as I knew him—he knew me!
I could see by the sudden light in his eyes that he realized that I knew the truth. For a moment, we stared at each other, then he moved, lunging at me more quickly than I would have believed possible.
There was a thunderous sound in my ears and the smell of cordite in the air. The creature’s forward motion reversed, and he staggered backwards, clutching at his chest. I could see the white front of his shirt start to darken.
I heard Collins swear behind me and feared for a moment that we had both been wrong . . . that an innocent man was dying in front of us.
Then the vampire spun around and dove for the window, crashing through the glass and out into the gardens beyond. “Go after him!” I shouted at Collins and, to his credit, the man did not flinch, but hurled himself across the room and out the same window. Outside, I heard him shouting for his men.
Almost instantly, there was a babble of voices behind me. Henry, Elizabeth, the guests . . . clamouring to know what was happening. I managed to placate them with stories of a prowler and that set them off into tales of crime in the city and much head-shaking and tongue-clucking about the sad state of the modern world. Fortunately, Elizabeth persuaded them to return to the dining salon to do it.
It is now almost dawn. Collins has not returned. I have begun to think perhaps he will never return. That is inconvenient . . . but not an insurmountable setback. There are plenty of men like him in the city, who for a fee will believe any lies I choose to tell them. If Collins does not return, I will hire someone else today to begin the search of the vampire’s property.
I have not slept. I cannot sleep.
It is very hot here in the study, despite the broken window. My head pounds incessantly and that strange, tight feeling in my chest has come back. To think that in a while none of these things will trouble me!
I hear Carstairs at the door, no doubt with breakfast. Maybe this pain will go away after I eat.