‘You’re right,’ said Jeeves. ‘That is something new to worry about, and I would just like to point out that I was a lot happier before you brought it up.’
‘It does seem unlikely,’ I said. ‘But it’s best to consider all the possibilities.’
‘You are not helping my confidence at all,’ said Jeeves.
‘I’m not doing much for my own,’ I admitted.
We stopped before the tithe barn, to look it over. Heavy stone walls with slit windows, under a slanting slate roof. Little had changed since I was last here with Penny. A lifetime ago. More snow had been blown in through the open doorway, forming a high ledge. No footprints, no gaps, nothing to show Sylvia had entered the barn. Unless she went skittering up the wall … I kicked my way through the snow drift and strode inside, trying to look everywhere at once while still appearing calm and purposeful. Jeeves was quickly there at my side, his gun steady in his gloved hand.
‘You do know,’ I said quietly, ‘that bullets won’t stop her.’
‘Might slow her down some,’ said Jeeves. ‘If I take out her kneecaps. Or her eyes. And it makes me feel better.’
‘That, right there,’ I said, ‘is why I prefer not to use guns. They give you an entirely false sense of security.’
‘Really not helping …’ said Jeeves.
‘Would you rather I lied to you?’
‘Yes!’
‘And people say I’m weird.’
I spotted an old storm lantern, sitting on the ridged stone floor next to the wall. I picked it up and shook it carefully. Oil splashed heavily in the bottom. I was fumbling in my pocket for something to light it with, when Jeeves hit the wall switch, and bright electric light flooded the barn from end to end.
He looked at me pityingly. ‘We are in the twenty-first century, you know.’
The barn was empty, apart from the hulking shapes of old farm machinery under their heavy tarpaulins. I looked carefully around and behind each of them, even lifting up each tarpaulin in turn for a peek underneath. There was no sign of Sylvia anywhere. Jeeves walked from one end of the barn to the other and back again, just in case. We both took our time, making sure we missed nothing. I could see beads of sweat forming on Jeeves’ dark face, despite the cold. The gun in his hand was still entirely steady.
When we’d convinced ourselves the barn was empty, we went back to the open doorway. I looked at Jeeves steadily, and he nodded, reluctantly. I smashed the oil lamp against the wall, spilled oil in a wide circle across the floor, and finally dumped what was left over the nearest tarpaulin. Jeeves produced a Zippo lighter, knelt down, and set light to the floor. Both of us hurried out the doorway as bright yellow flames shot up.
Jeeves and I moved hastily out into the thick falling snow. A great blast of superheated air shot out of the opening, only just falling short of us. Black smoke was already forcing its way out through the slit windows. The electric light inside the barn snapped off, and all that was left was dancing yellow flames.
‘Stone walls,’ said Jeeves. ‘But wooden rafters in the roof, and old wooden farm machinery … The barn will go up fast enough and burn for some time. No place for Sylvia there.’ He looked at me. ‘Is it right: fire destroys vampires?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ I said. ‘She’s just a walking corpse, and crematoriums deal with dead bodies perfectly well every day. Except …’
‘I hate it when you pause like that,’ said Jeeves. ‘Except what?’
‘Sylvia set Roger’s body on fire,’ I said. ‘Which would suggest she isn’t frightened by fire. It is possible that not being scared of something might actually be a weakness. Sylvia’s too used to seeing herself as untouchable and unkillable. She might not have the same survival instincts as us.’
‘It’s amazing,’ said Jeeves. ‘You keep talking and you keep coming up with things, and yet not one of them is ever remotely comforting.’
‘It’s a gift,’ I said.
I led the way, past the manor house, past the cottages, and on into the gardens. I didn’t think Sylvia would actually be there, but I wanted to look them over anyway, just in case. Sylvia struck me as the type who would do exactly what you wouldn’t think she would do, just to catch you off guard. Jeeves didn’t make any objections. He thought I knew everything about vampires, which just went to show how little he knew. Our feet sank deep into the snow with every step, making loud crunching noises, as though to warn Sylvia we were coming.
Across the snow-covered gardens we went, through rows of trees and past the topiary figures, which I found even more disturbing than before, with even more snow to obscure their original shapes. There were no details left to show what they had been. I checked each one carefully, even batting at the branches with the back of my hand to make some snow fall away and reveal the interior.
‘Do you honestly think Sylvia would hide inside one of those things?’ said Jeeves.
‘She hid the Colonel inside a snowman,’ I said.
I checked between and behind every topiary shape, taking my time, refusing to be hurried. I really didn’t want Sylvia jumping out at me. I could sense a growing tension in Jeeves’ increasingly abrupt movements. I wondered if he thought I was putting off checking the cottages for Sylvia, and I wondered that too. I finally stopped, at one particular place, and looked at the ground.
Jeeves moved in beside me. ‘Is that where you found the snowman?’ he said quietly.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘That’s where I found the Colonel. When I first smelled blood and didn’t know what it meant.’
‘I suppose the world still made sense to you, back then,’ said Jeeves.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I can’t say this world has ever made sense to me.’
‘Do you ever wonder … If you hadn’t found James’ body, would Sylvia have just bided her time here till the storm was over and then left?’ said Jeeves. ‘And then maybe no one else would have died?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I never think things like that. Hindsight never helped anyone. You can only ever deal with what’s in front of you. Sylvia killed before she came here, and she would have killed again, afterwards. She’s a predator. That’s what she does. Stopping her is all that matters.’ I looked around me. The pale world looked back, pristine and gleaming, cold as death.
Jeeves was shivering hard now. ‘I think we’ve seen all there is to see here,’ he said. ‘Let’s go check the cottages.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Let’s do that. Maybe we can set a fire to warm ourselves up.’
We made our way back to the row of Victorian cottages, driving ourselves on through the hard-packed snow. I think we both felt more vulnerable, more at risk, out in the open. Where Sylvia could be anywhere. And we both wanted to find the vampire and get this over and done with. Find and stake the rotten thing, and put it behind us, so we could have our lives back again. We stopped before the old head gardener’s house, GravelStone Cottage, and looked it over carefully. No lights showed at any of the windows, and the front door was firmly closed. A pleasant scene, in a winter view.
But would an undead creature need light, or heat? Or anything other than a dark place to hide?
Jeeves strode up to the front door and tried the handle. The door didn’t budge. ‘Locked,’ said Jeeves. ‘Knew I should have brought my skeleton keys.’
I gestured for him to stand aside, and then charged the heavy wooden door. I hit it square with my shoulder and blasted the door right off its hinges without even slowing. The door slammed down on to the floor, and I strode right over it, slowing to a halt in the dark and gloomy hall. Jeeves hurried in after me, waving his gun around in a more or less professional way.
‘All right,’ he said, once he was sure we were alone. ‘That was … really something. I am officially impressed. Doesn’t doing that hurt your shoulder?’
‘Yes,’ I said.
We pressed slowly forward, into the gloom of the hallway. Jeeves found the light switch eventually, and the sudden glare was almost blinding. The narrow hall was disconcertingly cheerful and cosy, with pleasant old-fashioned wallpaper, charming furnishings, and a bare wooden floor. A perfect getaway home from home, to soothe the spirits of the troubled guest. Not the kind of place you’d expect to find a monster. But then, that was the point.