Bram Stoker's HANNIBAL

Chapter 57: Softly and Well

Letter, Jack Van Crawford, M. D., D. Ph., D. Lit., etc., etc., to Dr. Chilton

2 October.

My good Friend,—

When I have received your letter I am already coming to you. By good fortune I can leave just at once, without wrong to any of those who have trusted me. Have you told your friend, this great lady Margot Verger, about the exorcism I performed in your asylum some years back? Those were wild days indeed, my friend. Because of your faith in me, a woman was saved, and you have made a friend for life. Of course I will come when called to help you, Frederick. But it is pleasure added to do for her, your friend Margot and her lovely intended; it is to you that I come. Have then rooms for me at the Great Eastern Hotel, so that I may be near to hand, and please it so arrange that we may see the young lady not too late on to-morrow, for it is likely that I may have to return here that night. But if need be I shall come again in three days, and stay longer if it must. Till then good-bye, my friend Frederick.

Van Crawford

***

The morning had been breath-showing-cold; the dogs left dark tracks in the grass where they trotted, melting the tiny layer of frost that encased each blade. Now that the sun was up, Will couldn't see the pawprints anymore, and the dogs themselves were lazing about in what pools of light they could find, seeking relief from the autumn chill in the air.

Will left them to it, choosing instead to organize the heaps of papers and books that he still had piled on shelves around his desk, most of them leftovers from when he was studying to become a solicitor. He'd held on to his notes and articles, he supposed, in case he ever needed to refer back to them during the course of his career in real estate law; now that he had a ring on his finger, well... he didn't plan to pursue it any longer. It had been an escape from Scotland Yard, a way to stay financially independent from Hillingham and in society's good graces. A vocation was important for a man with no breeding.

But now, he was marrying a count. And a gentleman held no profession.

Before long he'd be moving into Carfax, and he wouldn't need these things anymore. He warmed himself by the fire, feeding it page after page of his cramped, admittedly ugly handwriting, keeping one eye on the clock. Chilton would be here shortly with his friend, the doctor from Amsterdam, the visit coinciding perfectly with Prudence Bloom being out of the house. For lunch, allegedly.

But Alana had told Will the truth. Prudence was visiting a priest. Discussing scriptures and songs for her own funeral.

Will shook his head, a quick movement, balling up another paper and tossing it into the fire. Not thinking about that. Not now. Maybe not ever. Since the engagement, Prudence had been entirely sweet to him, and the shift in her temperament was actively disconcerting instead of the comfort she probably thought it was. Will had spent so many years locked in antipathy with her that an armistice was destabilizing.

Outside, he heard the dogs stir themselves up, Buster letting out a series of excited little yips. Will got up from his chair and glanced out the front window. Two men approached his cottage; one was undeniably Frederick Chilton. The other man was roughly Hannibal's height with a solid build and broad shoulders, his features hidden by a wide-brimmed hat.

Will shrugged on his tweed jacket and stepped out into the brisk air, whistling to the dogs. "You're early."

Dr. Chilton gave a pinched little smile at Will's chosen greeting that looked more like a grimace. His companion, however, had gotten down on one knee and was beckoning Winston over. The dog came willingly enough, sniffing the wide, blunt hand offered before getting closer. Will watched as the stranger in the broad hat tamed his dog in a matter of several small movements and murmured Dutch. At last, he glanced up from beneath the shadow of his hat brim. "This is a good dog," he said, grinning up at Will with a straight white smile, a sizable gap between his front teeth. "Healthy. Well trained. Lovely fur, ya. What's his name?"