by Tony Evans
Cezar was born in a farm worker’s cottage in August 1870, not far from Urmuz. His mother was a young woman of nineteen, Helene Janikovszky, who lived alone with her widowed mother, Kata. Helene was unmarried, and her son was born as a result of her relationship with a man of noble birth. She died in childbirth, and for the next seventeen years the boy was raised by his grandmother. He never attended school, but was provided with a succession of tutors, who lodged in Klausenburg and saw their pupil two or three times a week. I managed to obtain a statement from the last of them, given to me in the strictest confidence. You may read it at your leisure: it makes it clear that young Cezar had mental powers and abilities that were as inexplicable as they were abnormal. In particular, he appeared able to understand the thoughts of others, and to project ideas and images into other minds. His last tutor, who was with the young man for almost two years, also reported that Cezar’s powers had increased significantly over that period. It was undoubtedly these unnatural abilities which later allowed Dimov to obtain the position of Notary at so young an age.
At seventeen Cezar took legal steps to change his name from Janikovszky to Dimov. It was of course well known in the area that he was illegitimate, and enjoyed the patronage of a rich, noble and anonymous father. My first inkling of the dreadful secret which lay behind Dimov’s parentage came when I discovered that the young man had returned unexpectedly to Transylvania in early November, 1993. By careful investigation I found that he had left the University of Budapest very suddenly on 7th November, 1893, before returning a week later. This and other evidence that I had obtained with great difficulty from the young man’s bankers – which pointed to the source of his funds, and hence through a convoluted path to his patron – allowed me to form a hypothesis. Armed with this theory, I visited Kata Janikovszky, who still resided in the small but comfortable cottage a few miles from Urmuz.
I have often wondered why that poor woman had been allowed to live. Perhaps some trace of human sentiment had lingered in her grandson. At any rate, when I saw her she was clearly not long for this world: it was perhaps her consciousness of the approach of her death that persuaded her to tell me her terrible secret. When she had finished, she asked for my blessing, which I gave her gladly. She died just two days later.
Kata told me that unknown to any in Urmuz, Cezar’s father had visited the boy regularly. His noble parent had taught him all he knew, and helped to inspire the young man’s ambitions and abilities. Kata herself rarely saw the man, as his visitations invariably took place at night. His name, as you may have already guessed, was Count Dracula.
*
I sat still with shock after Father Filimon’s revelation. I had guessed there was some connection between Dimov and the Count, since the day of the future Notary’s sudden visit to Transylvania – 7th November 1893 – was the day after Dracula had been destroyed. However, I had never imagined that there was such an intimate link between them. It explained a good deal that had hitherto seemed mysterious. The near-fatal accident to Nicolaus Polgar, for example. It seemed likely that Dimov had used his powers of telepathy to detect the young man’s words, and to incite the cattle to attack him. I was also now sure that the Notary was responsible for the “suicide” of Bruno Strug.
Van Helsing looked as surprised as me. ‘I suppose that after his father’s death, the power to control the three acolytes passed to Dimov?’
Father Filimon nodded. ‘Undoubtedly. Of course it became clear to me that Dimov must have arranged for them to have a resting place in some secret location in the castle, until he had learned to control them for his own purposes. By pretending to have found the three decayed corpses in the lower crypt and recruiting me as witness he sought to allay any suspicion that the three vampires were still at large. I now believe that the bodies I saw were the remains of three other young woman that Dimov had obtained in some fashion. When Dracula “lived” – if we can call it that – the Count’s supernatural powers somehow sustained and energised the three undead women. After his death, his son – Dimov – was able to continue to imbue them with false life beyond the grave, and use them for his own purposes.’
‘And what were they?’ Van Helsing asked.
Father Filimon seemed to choose his words carefully. ‘Although the young Notary was at pains to amass a large sum of money, I do not believe that he was interested in wealth for its own sake, but rather as a means to an end. Count Dracula’s ambition was to conduct as many mortals as he could into his realm of spiritual darkness and damnation. Dimov was no vampire, and lacked both the will and the means to do the same. I am convinced that Dracula’s son wished to control the world of the living, not the dead. With sufficient riches and his considerable mental powers, together with the ghastly threat posed by the acolytes to his enemies, who knows how far the young man might have risen? Had he succeeded, it might be that the name of Dimov would have been as notorious in the next century as that of Attila or Genghis Khan has been in previous eras. Now, gentlemen, if you will pass me my stick, I will fetch you the documents that I referred to earlier. You must do with them as you think fit.’
Chapter 14
After some hours rest, that afternoon Van Helsing, Mina and I set out on horseback to Vlados Monastery to fulfil our promise to Prince Bretin. Before we left Urmuz we spoke to Peter Seypos, to tell him that the threat of Cezar Dimov was no more. By informing Seypos we felt sure that the word would soon be spread to the Notary’s other victims. In return, Seypos told us that it was he who had alerted Dimov to our departure for Dracula’s Castle the previous day. The landlord had seen Mina’s note, opened it and then carefully resealed the envelope. He had left it in place, in case Mina returned to claim it. His fear of the Notary was such that he had wasted no time in sending word to tell him were we were bound.
*
When we arrived at the monastery we were glad to accept Prince Bretin’s invitation to remain there that night. Over dinner we explained to Princess Elena all that had happened, including everything we knew about the late Cezar Dimov.
The Princess listened in silence to what we had to say. I noticed that she looked far less robust than when Mina and I had last seen her: her complexion seemed paler, and her hair less glossy. I hoped the news that we had brought would soon restore her spirits, and so it proved.
When she had heard us out she nodded and seemed lost in thought. Then she turned to Prince Bretin.
‘Father, there are still some things I do not understand. The night that I first saw that creature in the Abbott’s garden, it seemed distracted by an owl. Then when her fellow vampire tried to attack me in my bedroom, again an owl came to my rescue. How can that be explained?’
Van Helsing interjected. ‘If you will permit me. In the first instance, in the garden, I believe that Dimov sent the vampire to you as a warning. But it would have done him no good to have let you be killed – or worse. If that had happened, his hold over your father would have gone. I am sure that the owl was somehow imbued with Dimov’s power, and able to repel the woman. As for the second occasion, in your bedroom, I believe it is likely that the vampire was there of its own horrible volition. We know that Dimov did not have complete control over his evil servants. Once again he sent the owl as his emissary to protect you.’
Next Prince Bretin spoke. ‘I too have a question. When Dimov pursued the three of you to Dracula’s Castle, and unleashed his creatures, what good would it have done him if you had died? Surely your deaths – and that of Mr Harker in particular – would have prevented the very thing that Dimov was working for: the sale of the Davila Estate to Lord Tavistock.’
‘That is a question I can answer,’ I said. ‘On Saturday I visited the Notary and we completed all the legal documents required for the transaction. All that remained was for him to have four copies made, which I was to sign – alongside him – today. Two of these were to be sent to Exeter by courier, after which Mina and I intended to travel to Greece. Now, let us suppose that Dimov had been succe
ssful in his attempt to dispose of me, the Professor and my wife last night. He only needed adequately to forge my signature – not a difficult task, as he already had examples from my correspondence with him – and Mina and I would not be missed for weeks! By the time suspicions were raised the £20,000 would have been paid over to Prince Bretin, and hence to Dimov, who no doubt planned to vanish with the proceeds. As for the Professor, Dimov could say that he had decided to accompany Mina and me to Greece.’
Van Helsing chuckled. ‘You seem to have planned your own murder very well, Jonathan. Dimov’s hold upon Peter Seypos would have been enough to persuade that gentleman to dispose of our belongings, and collude in the story that we had left for Thessaloniki together. Now, as I see the hour is late, I suggest that we retire. After a night spent in Dracula’s Castle a comfortable bed will be most welcome.’
*
I was as tired as my friends, but the excitement of the last few days prevented me from sleeping. Mina lay deep in slumber beside me, so taking great care not to wake her I put on my dressing gown and slippers and walked to the window. No snow had fallen since the last night that Mina and I had stayed at Vlados Monastery, and the covering that remained was pitted with hoof-marks and the tracks of Bretin’s carriage.
It was at that moment that I heard a footfall in the corridor outside our bedroom. My first thought was that I might not be the only one who could not sleep that night, and I opened the door and stepped across the threshold. I looked to left and right, but saw no one. A sudden sense of unease afflicted me: could there be still more unsolved mysteries in that household? I grasped the handle of the door, intending to return to Mina’s side. It would not open. Had Mina found me gone, and turned the key in the lock? I knocked gently, then leapt back in shock as a frightened scream rang out from within the room.
I rushed at the door with my shoulder, but it was constructed of sturdy oak, and held. Twice more I charged at it with little effect – then the bulky form of Van Helsing appeared, roused by the noise and running down the corridor towards me. Together we rushed at the door again, and under our combined weight it burst open.
The scene before us was as shocking as it was unexpected. Mina stood trembling with her back against the far wall, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight streaming through the window. In front of her was Princess Elena, dressed in a long white nightdress. Her blue-black hair hung wild and tangled to her shoulders, but my gaze was fixed on her eyes, which were illuminated with a ghastly reddish tint. Then Elena laughed horribly, the silvery echo of her merriment hollow and unnatural. She bared her strong white teeth, and slowly advanced towards Mina.
For a moment I had been frozen in shock, then once more my brain began to function. On the dressing table next to our bed were Mina’s hair-combs, jewellery and the small sliver crucifix that she wore on a chain. I lunged towards the cross and in one movement picked it up and threw myself towards the Princess, pressing the holy symbol hard against her forehead.
Immediately the skin hissed as if branded, and the smoking crucifix fell to the floor. A sweet, sickly smell of burning flesh filled the room. Elena opened her mouth as if to scream – then tottered backwards, falling silently into Van Helsing’s arms. As she did so her nightdress fell open to the waist, and low on her swelling bosom I saw two small but unmistakable half-healed wounds.
Postscript
Less than a week after this shocking conclusion to our visit to Transylvania Mina and I were once more at home in Exeter, appreciating the warmth and security of our own fireside. Little Quincy’s nurse had taken our son up to his bed, and Mina and I were enjoying a glass of vintage port after the excellent supper provided by our cook.
I thought back over our recent adventure, and must admit to a certain satisfaction regarding its outcome. Of course there had been no question of our travelling to Greece after what had occurred. Mina and I had returned immediately to England, leaving Van Helsing at Vlados Monastery. To our surprise the Professor had expressed every hope that Princess Elena might make a full recovery. That she had been infected by evil during the female vampire’s visitation was indisputable, but Van Helsing believed that with the destruction of Dimov she could shake off the taint with which she was afflicted. Indeed we had receive a telegram from our friend only yesterday, saying the Princess was making good progress, and that he was soon to leave for Vienna. The Professor had added that Prince Bretin had managed to locate most of the funds extorted by Notary Dimov, and was discreetly returning the money to his tenants.
I waved my hand towards the decanter. ‘Might you have preferred a flagon of Golden Mediasch, my dear? I’m sure our vintner could import some Transylvanian wine if we requested it.’
She grimaced in jocular disgust. ‘Spare me, Jonathan! If I never see that benighted country again I shall die a happy woman. But now that you have raised the subject: did you have a satisfactory interview with Lord Tavistock this afternoon?’
‘His lordship will not insist on completing his purchase of the Davila Estate,’ I said. ‘Prince Bretin felt honour bound to keep his word, but Lord Tavistock has thought better of the matter, after all that I had to tell him about our experiences. In fact he has already seen an estate for sale in the Scottish Highlands near Aviemore which he thinks will fulfil his and Lady Tavistock’s needs admirably. He asked me to oversee the transaction on his behalf, and so I’ve instructed young Petherbridge to deal with the matter.’
Mina chuckled. ‘As the new Senior Partner that is of course your privilege! I must say that I believe Lord Tavistock has made a wise decision. Dracula’s son may now be vanquished, along with his father, but who is to say that the Count’s liaisons were limited to poor Helene? If there are any other members of that unpleasant family lurking in the shadows I would prefer not to make their acquaintance.’
If you enjoyed reading Legacy of Evil you might enjoy Devil May Care by Tony Evans, also published by Endeavour Press.
Extract from Devil May Care by Tony Evans
Chapter One
After our train left Exeter St. David’s Station the urban landscape of busy roads, terraced houses and gasworks was soon replaced with the fields and farmhouses of the rolling Devonshire countryside. I settled back in the comfortable window seat of our first class carriage and smiled contentedly at my wife, who sat opposite me.
‘You’re looking particularly pleased with yourself this morning, Jonathan,’ she observed. ‘Is it the prospect of remaining incommunicado for a week or two which gives you such pleasure? Let us hope that your colleagues do not write to you every day with reports of legal matters needing your immediate attention. Perhaps we should have told them we were going to Paris rather than Cornwall.’
‘You may be looking forward to a break from your labours, my dear Mina, but don’t forget that in my case our expedition is intended to be work, not pleasure. If anyone in the office attempts to distract me, he will get a frosty answer, believe me.’
Mina chuckled. ‘I do not intend to be entirely idle. As the last two chapters of The Secret of Lady Connaught have still to be written, I may well devote some of my time to completing them. Mr Stebbins has asked for my manuscript before the end of next month.’
I nodded. When Mina and I had returned to Exeter from Transylvania almost two years ago, we had been in a state of nervous exhaustion following the violent and horrifying adventure which had concluded in the final destruction of Count Dracula. Our good friend Professor Van Helsing, now resident in London, prescribed the following remedy for both of us: a month’s complete rest, followed by a return to the rigours and discipline of work. Whilst I had been more than happy to return to the solicitors’ office where I was now a junior partner, Mina was reluctant to resume the occupation she had held before our marriage – that of a schoolmistress. Indeed the general prejudice against married women in that role would probably have disbarred her. Instead she announced that she would be taking up the profession of a writer of novels. Any well-concealed scepticism on my
part was soon replaced with admiration, as some twelve months later The Ambassador’s Daughter was published with considerable success.
‘It sounds as if you may be working harder than I. Of course if all I have to do is to assist in the drawing up of a marriage settlement, then that will occupy a day or two at most. But a circumspect investigation of Mr Haywood’s concerns could take a good deal longer. His letter to Mr Joplin seems to raise more questions than it answered.’
Mina lent forward. ‘As you have already taken me into your confidence, would it be possible for me to read Haywood’s letter? I assume you have brought it.’
I knew my wife well enough to trust her discretion. ‘Of course. It’s here in my valise. I thought it best to keep it with me, rather than in the rest of our luggage.’
I retrieved the letter and passed it across to Mina. She removed it from the envelope, which had been marked “Private and Confidential”, and read it through.
Mr Nathanial Haywood to Mr Maurice Joplin, Esq., Joplin, Kaplan and Penfold, Solicitors at Law: 7th October 1895
Dear Mr Joplin,
You will I am sure recall acting for me just over five years ago, when you drew up my last will and testament: a document which I am happy to say has yet to prove its worth. I am writing to you in this instance to ask for your professional services concerning another matter.
The first part of my request can be simply stated. As you may remember, my wife and I have an only daughter, Flora, who is now twenty years of age. She will be twenty one next January. Flora is engaged to be married to Sir Owen Velland, Bt., a local landowner who lives at Carrick Manor, near the village of Gwithian about six miles from St Ives. We would like your firm to ensure that her marriage settlement is correctly drawn up according to our wishes, and in consultation with Sir Owen’s own solicitors, the well-established St Ives practice of Penning and Makepiece.