by Joseph Rubas
***
It’s almost done, Art thought as he pushed his way through the crowded port boat deck. Many of the davits toward the stern were empty, and the ones that did hold boats were swarmed with panicked men. Art counted eight women and three children as he fought his way forward, many of them second or third class passengers. He thought back to the gates he had come to during his final search of steerage, and wondered if he had found them all: The thought of people drowned in a narrow corridor sent a shiver down his spine.
Near the entrance to the smoking room, an officer stepped back from a lowering boat and right into Art’s path: They collided.
“Terribly sorry,” the man said. Art had never seen him before.
“No harm,” he said. Suddenly remembering the sketch, he took it out of his coat pocket. “That is if you can help me.”
“Certainly,” the officer said, looking over his shoulder. Through the crush of humanity, Art couldn’t see whether there were any more boats being loaded or not.
“I’m looking for a friend of mine.” He handed the sketch to the man, who took it and held it a foot from his face.
“I just saw him,” the officer said. “On his way to the wheelhouse. Had Murdoch with him.”
Murdoch.
That single word struck Art like a bullet. He remembered the man’s unprovoked hostility, his contemptuous manner. The man in black was Officer Murdoch. He was under Dracula’s spell.
“Are you alright, sir?” the officer asked.
“Yes, sorry,” Art said. “Thank you.”
With that his went off into the crowd in search of John and Dr. Van Helsing. For a horrible moment they were nowhere to be found, but then he saw them ascending the forward stairs to B-Deck.
“Art, have you seen Dracula?” asked Van Helsing excitedly, no doubt noticing his pale hue and the wild look in his eye. They knew who Dracula’s cohort was, and getting to him, they could thus get to Dracula.
“No, but I have discovered the identity of the elusive man-in-black.”
Happy shock swept Van Helsing’s face . “Who is it?” he asked eagerly.
“Mr. Murdoch,” Art breathed.
Stunned silence.
“But of course,” Seward said like a man who had just figured the solution to an arduous equation.
“We should have known that it was him from the first,” Van Helsing said.
“That doesn’t matter, we know now,” Art replied, and pushed past Seward and Van Helsing.