Legacy of Evil (A Jonathan Harker Mystery) Read online

  Legacy of Evil

  A Jonathan Harker Mystery

  Tony Evans

  © Tony Evans 2014

  Tony Evans has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  First published in 2014 by Endeavour Press Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Postscript

  Extract from Devil May Care by Tony Evans

  Chapter 1

  Maurice Joplin’s butler had cleared the remains of an excellent dinner from his master’s dining table, and all that remained on the rich damask cloth was a decanter and three antique goblets. Joplin dismissed his servant, filled our glasses with vintage Madeira and raised his own to us in a toast. As he did so the crystal vessel in his hand caught the light from the glowing gas mantle, capturing its radiance in a cloud of glittering, tiny fireflies.

  ‘To Jonathan and Mina,’ he said, ‘not to mention little Quincy Harker, who is sadly too young as yet to appreciate mutton cutlets, oysters and fine wine.’

  ‘Your good health, Mr Joplin,’ I added, glancing across the table at my wife. I suspected that like me Mina was curious to know why the Senior Partner at Joplin, Kaplan and Penfold had invited us to dine with him à trois. On previous occasions when we had enjoyed his hospitality all the solicitors in the practice had attended: although a widower of long standing, my employer was a sociable gentleman and enjoyed presiding over a large gathering.

  ‘I confess that I had an ulterior motive in inviting you both here tonight,’ Joplin said with a smile. ‘I have a request to make of Jonathan, but in the circumstance I felt it only right if Mrs Harker’ – he bowed with old-fashioned politeness towards Mina – ‘was also present. It concerns Lord Tavistock. I am delighted to say that following his recent marriage, he has approached our firm and asked us to act for him.’

  ‘That’s excellent news!’ I exclaimed, thinking that the nobleman was now far more desirable as a client than he would have been twelve months ago. The new Lady Tavistock – formerly Miss Rhoda Bleeker – was the heiress to the Bleeker Whisky fortune, and the alliance had transformed the financial prospects of her husband.

  ‘His Lordship has deposited the bulk of his new-found wealth in government securities,’ Joplin continued. ‘However, he has decided to invest £20,000 in a more speculative venture, as he can now well afford to do so. He has expressed a wish to buy a small forested estate in Eastern Europe, and has already found a tract of land which he believes will suit his needs very well: the Davila Estate near Bistritz at the edge of the Carpathian Mountains. The purchase has the added advantage of including the village of Urmuz, together with a medieval monastery and a number of surrounding farms. Lord Tavistock believes that you would be just the man to oversee the transaction. Of course I would not think of asking you to return to Transylvania if there was any prospect of danger. However, as the menace of Count Dracula been utterly destroyed – thanks to you and Mrs Harker – I agree with our client: your knowledge of the area and of the populace makes you the ideal choice.’

  I saw that Mina’s face had flushed angrily. The province to which Joplin had referred was the very one where the Count’s castle was situated, and where he had almost claimed our souls forever.

  ‘Really, Mr Joplin, given the almost fatal consequences to Jonathan of his last visit to that place – and on the business of your firm – I’m surprised that you should even suggest a return journey! Why not send young Petherbridge? He seems very keen to progress his career, and as a single man, he will have no wife or family to mourn him if he does not return.’

  Joplin appeared suitably embarrassed. As he struggled to formulate a response in the face of my wife’s understandable anger, I pre-empted his reply.

  ‘Mr Joplin – Mina. If I may make a suggestion? I too have been somewhat taken aback by your request. It will require a good deal of thought. If you are able to wait for, say twenty four hours, Mina and I will talk over the matter and let you have our decision one way or the other.’

  Joplin smiled with relief. ‘Of course. Take longer if you like. It is simply that Lord Tavistock will be such a valuable client, I would like to entrust this business to the solicitor in whom I have the most confidence. It’s really high time that Jonathan became a Senior Partner, and settling this matter should help to secure him that position. Now that Mina is rapidly establishing her reputation as a popular novelist, I would not wish Jonathan to feel left behind.’

  Fortunately Mina – who like most of us is not immune to flattery – regained her usual equanimity at these words. The conversation soon passed on to happier matters, not least the detailed family affairs of Joplin’s numerous nieces and nephews: indeed it was not until almost midnight that our host’s coachman was summoned to take us back to our house.

  *

  During the short journey home I confessed to Mina that I had something to add to the subject of Joplin’s request. Eighteen months ago, in August 1896, I had received a letter from our good friend Professor Abraham Van Helsing: it was of course Van Helsing who had provided invaluable assistance to us in our conflict with Count Dracula in 1893. The Professor had been visiting Austria that summer, and as he had some days to spare he decided to spend them in returning to the scene of our adventure in Transylvania. His motivation was more than mere curiosity: he wished to reassure himself that there had been no recurrence of the terrible events which took place before the destruction of the Count.

  ‘I did not wish to upset you with painful memories, so I didn’t tell you about Van Helsing’s letter,’ I said. ‘However, after some detailed enquiries the Professor was quite satisfied that the reign of evil which had oppressed the province had now entirely vanished. There had been no further disappearances or suspicious deaths: indeed a good many local inhabitants who had fled the region in the early 1890s had returned, reassured that the threat was over.’

  Mina smiled. ‘Perhaps the next time you receive such interesting information you’ll have the confidence to share it with me. Was the letter addressed to us both? No, don’t answer that question – I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.’

  With some relief I continued. ‘There was one other matter which Van Helsing mentioned in his letter – touching a question that has occurred to me more than once since that dreadful time. Although Count Dracula crumbled into dust before our eyes, it was not before he had created other acolytes – similar vile creatures of the night, turned into monsters by their master. The three young women who pursued me on my first visit to the Castle were such entities. You’ll remember that Van Helsing assured us that without the powers of the Count to sustain them, these unnatural beings would soon revert to harmless corpses. Well, it seems the Professor was correct.’

  ‘Do you mean that Van Helsing received confirmation of his theory?’

  ‘Exactly! During his brief revisit to the scene of our adventure he stayed at a small hotel in Bistritz. On his way out one morning, he was approached by an elderly priest, Father Alecu Filimon, who had heard that the Professor had returned. Father Filimon had some fascinating information to impart. In early January 1894, just three months after the destruction of Dracula, a young man had come to see the priest to seek advice. This fellow had visited Dracula’s Castle – during dayli
ght hours – with some friends, in the spirit of reckless adventure that often motives youths of that age. The place had been ransacked by the local peasants and an attempt had even been made to set the Castle on fire; unsuccessfully, due to its massive stone construction. Before they left the Castle, the youths had entered the family crypt beneath the great courtyard. It was there that they made their discovery. In a cellar beneath the floor of the crypt they discovered three ornate coffins, inlaid with gold, which had obviously been overlooked by the looters. Each contained the decayed remnants of a body. The process of dissolution was advanced, and all that the youth was able to say was that the bodies appeared to be female with long hair: two dark, one blond. Enough remained of their clothes and jewellery to suggest that they were probably young.’

  Mina gasped. ‘The three women who so nearly overcame you on your first visit?’

  ‘It seems so. Well, Father Filimon thanked his informant, and promised to keep the youth’s name secret. Three days later the priest went to the Castle himself, with four trusted parishioners, all able bodied men. They found the coffins – and occupants – exactly as described: there was some discussion as to how to dispose of the remains, and eventually it was decided to leave them as they were found. After all, they could hardly be offered a Christian burial, and it seemed unwise to disturb the now quiescent remnants. Of course you see what this all means?’

  Mina nodded. ‘Yes. If the young women had continued to exist as vampires, then anyone who opened the coffins during daylight hours would have found three perfectly preserved bodies! To have decayed as they did, the deadly ladies would have had to lose their powers, and revert to mortality. And if that happened to them, then it is safe to assume that any other malign acolytes have suffered the same fate. It seems you are right – you may return to the Carpathian Mountains in safely. However, before I agree to your embarking on this mission, I have three absolute conditions which must be met.’

  ‘Very well. What are they?’

  ‘Firstly – I will travel with you on your journey. Aunt Phyllis will be more than happy to look after little Quincy whilst we are away. Secondly – as Professor Van Helsing is spending this year at Altenberg University in Vienna, we should spend a day or two with him en route. And last but not least, when your work at the Davila Estate is complete, I would like us to travel south to Thessaloniki in northern Greece, returning to England by rail via Belgrade. My next novel will be an historical romance set in the Ottoman period, and to see something of that location will be invaluable.’

  As I had every faith in Van Helsing’s judgment I saw no difficulty in acceding to Mina’s requests.

  ‘Very well,’ I said. ‘If Maurice Joplin agrees, we’ll leave in two weeks’ time. I’ll arrange for a dependable courier to return directly from Transylvania with all the legal documents once they’ve been drawn up and signed by the vendor. That way we can make a leisurely tour of southern Europe without delaying Lord Tavistock’s purchase. Perhaps you had better obtain a Greek phrase-book. My knowledge of German will serve us very well in the Carpathians, but I doubt it will be of much use in Thessaloniki.’

  Chapter 2

  Mr Joplin made no objection to my plan to remain in Europe with Mina after completing my mission, as I had been very busy of late and was owed a month’s leave. Just over a week after leaving England Mina and I arrived in the ancient town of Bistritz on the border of the Carpathian Mountains, having journeyed the 1500 miles from Exeter at a leisurely pace. We had spent two days in Vienna as guests of Professor Van Helsing, and our old friend had done much to reassure us about our onward journey to Transylvania.

  Mr Joplin, at my suggestion, had arranged for us to stay in the small hamlet of Urmuz, about twelve miles east of Bistritz and within the boundary of the Davila Estate. I felt it important that I should gain first-hand knowledge of the village that would soon be owned by Lord Tavistock. When Maurice Joplin had given me the information I required for my mission, he had mentioned that the proprietor of the Davila Estate – Prince Andrei Bretin – had offered to accommodate us in his family home, the old monastery of Vlados. However, I much preferred the independence of an inn: I was after all acting in the best interests of my client and would not wish to be seen as in any way indebted to the Prince.

  As the train approached the station Mina stood up to collect her travelling bag and coat.

  ‘If Bistritz proves as fascinating as Vienna I shall not wish to leave!’ she said.

  I smiled. Van Helsing had taken us to the Court Opera House to see Rigoletto, conducted by Gustav Mahler. That in itself would have been an experience to savour, but the performance had been capped by the appearance on stage of a frail, elderly gentleman who was greeted with tumultuous applause. Van Helsing had explained that it was the composer himself, Signor Giuseppe Verde.

  ‘I suggest we take luncheon at the Golden Krone Hotel,’ I said. ‘It’s the small establishment where I stayed on my first visit to Transylvania back in 1893, and I remember it as both old-fashioned and friendly. Then after I have met with the official who represents the interests of the current landowner, we can complete our journey to Urmuz.’

  With the exception of my valise containing the legal documents I would need later that day, we decided to leave our luggage with the station-master until we had hired a carriage. The hotel was close enough to be reached on foot, and our route led past the central market place through a succession of ancient narrow streets, their sides linked here and there by archways. The mixture of Gothic and Byzantine styles gave the medieval houses a fairy tale aspect, as if taken from the illustrations of a book of stories by the Brothers Grimm.

  ‘Why, this is delightful!’ Mina exclaimed. ‘I believe that the heroine of my next novel may be forced to spend a day or two here. I must make some notes during lunch.’

  As she spoke, an elderly gentleman wrapped in a dark cloak brushed past us. He looked up sharply as he did so, and it seemed that he appeared to recognise me. I turned round as he passed, but he swiftly moved on without a backward look. I reasoned that his interest was probably stirred by nothing more than the foreignness of our clothing.

  We soon reached our destination. Outwardly the Golden Krone had changed little during the five years since I had last seen it, although the stuccoed walls had been given a fresh coat of white paint. The same low door led into the dark interior, where even in the middle of the day a permanent twilight appeared to reign. However, when I rang the little brass bell the lady who came to greet me was not the cheery-looking elderly woman in peasant dress who had presided over the establishment the last time I had stayed there. She was young and business-like, and introduced herself as Frau Haussmann, who managed the establishment with her husband. We were soon shown into the dining room, where it became apparent that a regime of Swiss efficiency had been established by the new hoteliers. The food, however, was as well cooked and wholesome as I had remembered it.

  *

  After lunch I made my way to my appointment with the gentleman who was handling the legal aspects of Lord Tavistock’s land purchase: Notary Cezar Dimov. As I explained to Mina, a “Notary” in this region was not the exact equivalent to an English solicitor: he was a salaried employee of the state, who had the official task of overseeing legal transactions. I knew nothing of Dimov, other than that he had placed the original advertisement for the Davila Estate in the London Times, and that he was fluent in English.

  Mina had assured me that she would be very happy to explore the historic market quarter of Bistritz whilst I met with Dimov, and thus I walked alone to the Notary’s office. It lay just outside the oldest part of the town, and was part of an elegant building which housed several departments of the provincial government.

  Dimov’s smartly dressed secretary showed me into a meeting room furnished with understated elegance. I had half-expected the Notary to be in his fifties or early sixties – age is usually a prerequisite for bureaucratic advancement in Transylvania – so was rather t
aken aback to be greeted in excellent English by a smart young man who looked no older than thirty. His fashionable jacket with a velvet collar and knotted tie secured with a pin would not have looked out of place in a London salon.

  ‘You will not mind my congratulating you on your exceptional command of my language,’ I said. ‘Forgive my curiosity, but surely you must have lived in England at some time?’

  Dimov smiled. ‘You are very perceptive, Mr Harker. I was in fact born not far from Bistritz, but lost both my parents at a very young age. Fortunately a distant relative made sure that I had a good education, including a year in London studying English law. Now, I’m sure that you will have looked over the legal documents concerning the Davila estate which I forwarded to your employer, Mr Maurice Joplin. Is there anything in them which you wish to have clarified before we discuss the conditions of sale?’

  I opened my valise and took out the large manila folder which contained the papers to which he referred, removed a large-scale hand-drawn map of the Davila Estate and the surrounding area and spread it out across Dimov’s polished oak desk.

  ‘Your client has secured a bargain,’ the young man said. ‘£20,000 is well below the market value.’

  ‘I’m not sure that Lord Tavistock would agree. He feels he is paying the right price, given the remoteness of the land. However, as the sum has already been settled, that is not a point of issue. But I do have one question for you before we discuss the details of the transaction. You will be aware that I have an appointment to see the current owner of the Davila Estate, Prince Andrei Bretin, tomorrow afternoon at his family residence. As I know nothing of Prince Bretin – other than that he holds the title to the land – I would be grateful if you could tell me something about him before we meet. Of course I do not expect you to reveal his motives for the sale.’