The Last Watchman

by Kevin Partner

  “And I daresay you'll find that he is no longer on the premises,” Grimes said, watching an expression of surprise form again on Pratt's face as the little man ran out of the room.

  “I knew him for what he was as soon as we arrived,” Grimes said to me in the hansom as we headed home. Though it was only a short walk, darkness had now fallen, and he'd decided it was safer to be driven through the streets of London than to proceed on foot.

  “I must admit,” I replied, “I found him quite a repellent fellow, but I meet enough of that sort that it did not make me suspicious.”

  “Perhaps you should heed your instincts, John.”

  “But not all vampires make me feel that way,” I said.

  Grimes chuckled to himself. “Indeed, Valentina cannot be called repellent. But she is different, is she not? When you are in her presence, do you not sense it?”

  I said nothing. I had indeed felt something when around her, but I put that down to a misplaced affection or, if I wished to be entirely honest with myself, I would call it lust.

  “Work on it, my friend. Being able to identify them is your first line of defence. Many humans lack the talent entirely but, unless I am very much mistaken, it is within you. Develop it and it will serve you well—in all probability, it will save your life one day.”

  Eager to change the subject, I latched onto the burning question. “Why didn't you apprehend this fellow when you discovered what he was?”

  “Ah, but then he would have been of little use to us. It was essential that he believed he'd escaped when he slipped out of the yard as we were shown into the presence of that idiot Pratt.”

  “Why? What possible use is he to us now that we've lost him?”

  Another chuckle. “Oh, we haven't lost him, my friend, and I expect to find out exactly where he is by dawn. For now, however, let us return to our lodgings and wait in comfort.”

  “Very well, but I hope you will explain how this minor theft at a chemical factory is tied up with our business.”

  “I will, John, I promise. The presence of Mr Hellier at Pratt's was the final dot above the final letter. I now know, at least in general, what is happening, and the question has become whether I can stop it.”

  To our surprise, we found Inspector Pitt waiting for us outside our fortified door when we returned. Grimes froze for a moment when he recognised the policeman and then bounded up the remaining steps and opened the door.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he asked as we strode through to the sitting room. He was speaking in a hoarse whisper and I don't think I'd ever seen him so full of nervous tension as he was at that moment.

  “I came to warn you,” Pitt said. He glanced around the room as if checking for spies lurking in the dancing shadows of the fire. “There has been a purge. I am to be moved to another department and all co-operation with... with agents such as yourself is to cease.”

  I pressed a tumbler of whiskey into the inspector's trembling hand (oh, how I was tempted) and encouraged him to sit in my chair beside the fire as Grimes paced up and down impatiently. I looked up at my colleague and he took my meaning—this man was at the furthest limits of his nerves and needed more delicate handling than Grimes was capable of.

  Pulling up a chair, I took the glass from the policeman and waited for him to compose himself. “Tell us what has happened, Inspector.”

  He drew in a deep breath. “I am but a cog in the wheels of power, Mr Makepeace, and so all I have to relay is the official line I have been given and, to be honest with you, much of that is beyond my comprehension.”

  “Why not start at the beginning, old chap?”

  He nodded before looking into the fire as if he'd find his memories there. “It all happened so quickly. I was working on the investigations into the murders of Jenkins and Williams, and trying to make the connection with the gentleman in the alley when I was summoned to a meeting with one of my superiors.”

  “When was this?” I asked, feeling the pressure of Grimes' dark eyes on me.

  “What? Oh, it was only a matter of a few hours ago. I had lost myself in my musings and had not kept track of the time, but it was dark outside so it can't have been earlier than five o'clock.”

  I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a small serving plate hovering there with several digestives. Grimes nudged them in my direction, and I offered them to our shaken friend. I glanced up in time to see Grimes shrug before stepping back into the shadows.

  “What happened at the meeting?” I asked. Grimes gave a disappointed tut and I quickly added, “And who was there?”

  Pitt took a few moments to gather his thoughts as he nibbled on the biscuit. “There were three, which was unusual. My superior, Chief Inspector Spencer, and two other gentlemen I didn't recognise.”

  “Were they not introduced?”

  “Only by title, Inspector Spencer told me they were from the Foreign Office or some such, which surprised me as we are more used to having dealings with the Home Office.”

  “Describe them,” Grimes said from the shadows.

  Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Pitt said, “One was a tall gentleman in, I should say, his late thirties. He was introduced as the superior. The other was also tall, but broader and a little older. The junior of the two in rank, but there was something about him that, well, reminded me of you, Grimes. I don't know how to describe it, but there is more to him than simply being a civil servant.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They said nothing,” Pitt said, “but the Chief told me that my section has been disbanded and all communication with my... unofficial contacts must cease.”

  “An order that you are breaking,” I said.

  Pitt nodded and took another biscuit. “I'm afraid that some things go beyond official orders. I have seen what is happening on the streets and I fear that the deaths of those policemen and the gentleman in the alley will go uninvestigated unless you get to the bottom of it. I fear my superiors wish to sweep it all under the carpet.”

  “But how will they explain the deaths? It must come out in the press soon, surely?”

  “They'll blame it on the Ripper,” Grimes said, moving back into the light of the fire and settling into his chair. “Mark my words it'll be all over the papers tomorrow morning.”

  Pit sighed. “I fear you are correct, Mr Grimes. I joined the Force to see justice done and yet it seems my superiors care only for covering up the deaths of their own.”

  “There is more to it than that,” Grimes said. “Wheels within wheels, Inspector. It may seem like a simple case of covering up a failed investigation, but their true purpose is yet hidden. By God, how we hamper ourselves!”

  He leapt up, strode across the room and threw back the curtain to gaze down at the dark London streets. I imagined I could see, reflected in the window, a pair of smouldering eyes as he stood like a volcano holding back vast pent up energies.

  “It was ever thus,” he said after a long pause. “When we most need to be united, we drift apart, those that oppose the enemies of humanity. And we shall have such need of unity. You should go now. We need to retain a friend in the police force.”

  I took Pitt's hand as he rose, a little unsteadily, wrapped his coat around himself, and made for the door. “I shall see you out,” I said.

  “I wish I understood what was happening,” Pitt said as we negotiated the last step and stood in the hall.

  I gave a grim chuckle. “I feel as though I am wandering through a huge cave with nothing but a safety lamp to illuminate the darkness. I know there is a vastness beyond the range of my lamp in which lurk things that seek to harm me and yet I can do nothing more than to light the ground at my feet and hope I can navigate it safely.”

  He shook my hand as we opened the door. “I suspect your colleague knows the cave like the back of his hand. It seems we must trust in him, but it would be better if he'd draw us a map.”

  “I'm not entirely certain of that,” I said, realising the trut
h of it as the word formed. “I wonder whether I'd have the courage to put one foot in front of another if I truly knew what was out there.”

  Pitt pulled his coat collar up around his ears and wished me goodbye in a cloud of steaming breath. As he went, he tipped his hat to a figure walking towards the open door.

  “It seems you are finding wisdom at last, John. Sometimes it is better not to know. Sadly, however, we no longer have that luxury. Now, will you invite me inside?”

  End of Days

  I followed Valentina up the stairs and into our rooms where she was greeted by Grimes who, it seemed, had been expecting her.

  He took the black coat from her shoulders and the black hat with its three scarlet flowers from her hands and gestured her to sit in his chair.

  I stood beside the fire and watched as the flickering amber light played across her flawless skin; though it gave her angular features an unappealing sharpness. And yet I found her compelling.

  “Here, my dear,” Grimes was saying. He handed her a cup of warm milk and I noticed for the first time that Emma, our serving girl, had been there, as she exited into the small parlour where she had been warming the milk. Not for Valentina a tin container hung over the open fire.

  Emma returned and Grimes dismissed her. As she left, I wondered what she must have made of this strange meeting between two men and a singular woman. I concluded that the girl was probably too dense to think anything of it—a thought that only served to underline what an arrogant, self-entitled fool I was as a younger man.

  “Did you succeed?” Grimes asked.

  Valentina put down her cup and nodded. “I did. You were correct; he is certainly of my kind, though he took little care to conceal his movements. Some of us, you see, consider ourselves to be innately superior to humans and that is a weakness that can often betray.”

  “Where did he go?”

  I noticed that Grimes' usual impatience was kept under check when he spoke with Valentina. Here was a woman he regarded as his equal, I realised.

  “The match factory on Old Ford Road. I dared not follow once I had seen him enter since I am sure it is guarded.”

  “Bryant and May?” I exclaimed. “You were right, Grimes, it all seems to be centred around us!”

  Grimes shook his shaggy head. “No, my friend. As I explained, I am here because this part of London is where these things often take place. However, it possibly makes Mr Bryant's attention at the church on Sunday more significant than I gave it credit for at the time. Perhaps he knows something. So many threads, but which one to pull first?”

  This exasperated me. “Grimes, this is intolerable! So many threads? I see none whatsoever. It is time for your obfuscation to end and I must insist that you tell me what you know.”

  Grimes, who'd been standing on the other side of the fire leaning on the mantelpiece, looked surprised. “My dear John, I must apologise. But the threads have only just become apparent this evening. I will not tell you everything I know, since that would be a long and dark story that would not settle your nerves, but I will relate what I believe is the current state of affairs and we three, together, must judge the right path to take.”

  He drew up one of the dining chairs and sat himself in front of the fire as I dropped into my seat beside our guest.

  “I confess, Ichabod, that I see nothing but darkness ahead of us,” Valentina said. “My personal fate is, of course, of little consequence —”

  “Not to me,” I blurted out.

  She turned her head and smiled sadly. “That is kind of you, John, but events are now moving that make our lives of little moment in comparison. The collapse of the truce would bring about unimaginable calamity.”

  “Well then, let us begin with what we know,” Grimes said as he climbed out of his chair again and began pacing up and down in front of the fire. “A few nights ago, members of both watches were purged in a coordinated attempt to eliminate us and thus bring an end to the agreement between humanity and the other people inhabiting this world.”

  “Due to the intervention of my friend, Mr Makepeace, their attempt on my life was foiled.”

  At this moment, I found myself wondering how it was that Grimes had been so easily overcome in that graveyard, given what I had seen of his power since that night. However, this wasn't the moment to satisfy my curiosity, so I filed it away to re-examine in future. I turned my attention back to my colleague as he continued to exposit.

  “The same night, there was a mass escape from the local lunatic hospital which had been used to house some of the worst offenders against the truce. Again, John was the lightning rod along with my lady.” Here he gestured at Valentina.

  And that was another thing. I am certain I saw him create fire to disperse the vampires in the hospital and I'm equally certain he walked through the fire unscathed.

  “Most of the inmates escaped and, no doubt, were taken by their leader, Peregrine, to a pre-arranged location. We then have the gruesome deaths of the two policemen and the mysterious gentleman—we can expect them to be front page news tomorrow and for the Ripper to be wrongly blamed.”

  “And running alongside this,” he continued, “we have what appears to be petty theft from a greengrocer and a chemical factory—a factory that was being watched by the enemy. Finally, there is Pitt's news tonight regarding the closing down of his department and the severing of ties with the watch.”

  “But you see something, don't you, Grimes?” I said, though I am not sure whether I spoke more in hope rather than expectation.

  He stopped his pacing and stood with his hands on the back of the chair, silhouetted against the fire.

  “I have some pieces of the puzzle and I will lay them before you. Firstly, the thefts.”

  “But Grimes, what possible connection can a crate of lemons have on this?”

  His laughter echoed around our sitting room and drew an angry thumping on the floor from our downstairs neighbour. “My dear fellow, it has everything to do with it. Tell me, what is the chief chemical component of lemon juice?”

  “Acid of Citrus?”

  He nodded like a pleased teacher and, despite myself, I flushed with pride.

  “And the other stolen chemicals were?”

  It took a moment to recall our conversation with Pratt. “Bicarbonate of soda and... I have it... glucose.”

  “Yes, but the question is: what do these three ingredients make when combined? You do not know? Our lady here will be familiar with Acid Citrate Dextrose, though not by that name. I believe you call it solvo, do you not?”

  Valentina, who'd been listening with rapt attention, sat up straight at this. “Solvo? But why would they want to make such large quantities of it? Unless. Oh, by the underworld Gods, no. Surely no?”

  “Will either of you please tell me what this means? What is this solvo?” I said, feeling anger and frustration pounding in my temples.

  “ACD is an anti-coagulant, John, used to keep blood liquid for longer. Individual nostri, such as the lady here, will possess a small quantity for the convenience of being able to carry their nutrition with them on journeys without it spoiling.”

  Valentina, who'd sat silently shaking her head, took in a deep breath and turned to me. “It is such a modest invention, but it removes all excuse from our people for unauthorised harvesting since they can carry a small supply with them in case of urgent or unplanned need. But we only ever have a small amount. It terrifies me to think what such a large quantity might be used for.”

  “In normal times, I might think it nothing more than an attempt to corner the market,” Grimes said, “but these are not normal times. Let me put it this way, John. They now have enough of this substance to drain the blood from every inhabitant of London and to make a scarlet river that would attract vampires from every corner of the world and turn this place into the new capital of Hell.”

  My head was spinning as I saw hideous images of blood-soaked streets and terrified people in my mind's eye.

 
; “But what is the connexion between this horror and the murders?”

  “That is a good question. In the case of the two policemen, I would say that they served two purposes. Firstly, they distracted the official investigators—who, after all, would suggest following up a minor burglary from a greengrocer when eviscerated bodies were being discovered?”

  “You did,” Valentina interjected.

  Grimes' pale cheeks blushed—something that only added to the surreal nature of that evening.

  “I'm afraid the long war has made me look for plots and schemes everywhere, my lady. It robs life of its sweetness.”

  I felt unaccountably angry at this moment of tenderness between them. “For heaven's sake, Grimes, please finish your thought—what is the second purpose?”

  For a moment, I thought he was going to lash out at me, such was the speed with which he snapped round to face me with rage on his face. But, as suddenly as it had appeared, it vanished as his shoulders dropped and his face relaxed.

  “Punishment, John.” He reached into the pocket of his grotty trousers and pulled out a small card which he handed to me.

  It read in this way:

  Greville Yaxley, Esq

  Undersecretary

  Ministry of International Affairs

  “What is this?”

  “I extracted it from the pocket of the poor unfortunate man we found in the alley.”

  “So, this is he?”

  Grimes nodded. “I see no reason to believe otherwise.”

  “And you didn't tell Pitt?”

  “No. I have learned over the years that information is a precious resource that must be guarded and rationed out as needed.”

  “As I have discovered these past few days,” I said, with more petulance than I'd intended.

  I hadn't expected the silence that followed as he stood, framed by the firelight, regarding me without moving. “It is not a burden I would wish upon anyone,” he muttered finally, “to know what I know, and I do not place it willingly upon the shoulders of anyone else.”