As they complied, Delaney, who stood closest, launched a kick, but Lin Tao's aim didn't even waver. In one smooth motion, he stepped back and used his free hand to impel more motion to Delaney's foot, so that Delaney was carried off balance by the force of his own kick and straight up into the air. For a fraction of a second, he seemed to hang horizontal in midair, then he crashed to the floor, flat on his back.
Moreau took advantage of the distraction to grab Jasmine and quickly activate his warp disc. Doyle and Stoker stared in disbelief as Moreau and Jasmine disappeared.
"Did you see it?" Stoker said. "I cannot believe my eyes! They simply vanished! How…" He shook his head, unable to go on.
"I do not know how, old friend." said Doyle, "but wherever that man has gone, he could have escaped in such a manner at any time. It seems he stayed for us. Whoever he was, we owe him our lives."
"We promised not to kill him. Lin Tao," said Forrester. "but we can't let him go free. We're grateful for your help, but you know we'll have to hunt him down. He's a dangerous man."
"Perhaps General, in an earlier life. he was," Lin Tao said, "but he is no longer. He has left behind his work, his world, indeed everything he knows. I understand how he must feel. I know what it means to become cast adrift in a new world. All he wants is to find a small, insignificant place for himself in it. He may have nothing left of his old world, but in this new one, he has at least found friends and that, I have learned over my long years, is priceless and most valuable. He has suffered more from his own conscience than from any punishment you could inflict upon him. Have you never made a mistake, General, for which you could not forgive yourself?"
Forrester held the old man's gaze for a long moment, then he looked away.
"You will have much to do here," Lin Tao said. "And you have your warp discs to take you back to where you came from. The passage through time which leads here from the warehouse shall be destroyed. And this weapon I have taken shall be delivered to your friends at the Charing Cross Hotel. I give you my word that you have nothing to fear from myself or Phillipe Moreau. I have fulfilled my part of the bargain. All I ask is that you honor yours. I do not think that we shall meet again. Goodbye."
He bowed very slightly, never taking his eyes off them, and backed away towards the room at the far end of the corridor on the upper floor, which contained the mate to the chronoplate hack in the warehouse. The moment he was out of sight. Steiger lunged after him.
"Steiger!" said Forester.
"Sir, if we hurry, he won't have time to-"
"As you were."
Steiger looked as if he were about to say something, but he clenched his fists and took a deep breath, let it out slowly and said, "Yes, sir."
Forrester glanced at Finn and Andre.
"You think I'm making a mistake?" he said.
Delaney shrugged. "If you did, we'll probably find out about it sooner or later. I do know we never would've gotten here without their help."
"I don't know if I could ever trust Moreau." said Andre. "But I think I can trust that strange old man:*
"He does put that out, doesn't he?" said Forrester.
Steiger shook his head. "If you ask me, I think you're all crazy," he said. He glanced down at Doyle and Stoker, who stood looking up at them like two lost little boys. "And I'd hate to ask them what they think."
Andre looked at Doyle and Stoker, then turned back to Forrester. "I think we've got a problem, sir."
Delaney snorted. "So what else is new?"
Grayson smelled the smoke as he came into the courtyard. He blew several sharp blasts on his whistle, then broke into a run as he saw the flames start to lick up from the warehouse roof. In a moment, he saw that putting out the fire would be impossible. By the time the fire department arrived, it would be all that they could do to save the neighboring buildings. And then he froze when he saw what was nailed to the warehouse door.
Smoke streamed from the cracks around the wooden warehouse door. framing the body of Tony Hesketh, which was nailed to the door by an iron railroad spike driven through its chest. The corpse's head lolled grotesquely on its neck, blood and from the corner of its mouth, open to reveal long, protruding canine teeth.
Tremayne came running, up to stand beside him, " Jesus. Mary and Joseph!" he said. And then words failed him.
Sparks shot high into the air, swirling like swarms of fireflies. The building groaned as the flames destroyed it and wood cracked as the roof started to fall in. The door started to burn and as the flames licked at the body, Grayson stood and stared at the dark green ribbon tied around the end of the iron spike.
EPILOGUE
They sat around the table in the dining room of Number 7 Mornington Place. Amy Robbins. soon to be Mrs. Wells, brought in the coffee and biscuits.
"And so that is where we stand, gentlemen," Forrester was saying. "And, of course. Miss Robbins. I have the means to compel you to forget the parts you played in this incredible experience, but there are certain complications associated with the process-think of it as a sort of hypnotism, if you will-risks I would prefer not to incur or even to discuss with you at length. Such a radical… 'enforced forgetfulness,' for lack of a simpler way of describing it to you, could have certain unforeseen effects upon the personality. Since you are all highly creative individuals, that is a chance I would not wish to take. However, I hope I have made you see the importance of never revealing what you know to anyone, not under any circumstances."
"I quite understand, General," said Doyle, "and you have my word. Even if we were to tell anyone about what we have seen, who in their right mind would believe it? Although, I must admit, the idea of pitting Holmes against a vampire has a certain charm to it."
"I thought you had grown tired of him'?" Stoker said. "Don't tell me you now plan to resurrect him from the dead?" he added with a grin.
Doyle cleared his throat. "Well, who knows?" he said. "Perhaps the old chap never really died. Watson was never the keenest of observers, after all. And even if I were to write such a story, it would necessarily stress the rational over the supernatural, the truth over the fanciful. And as I knew right from the beginning, there was a rational answer to this perplexing case. An answer, perhaps, that is impossible for those of us in this time to fully comprehend, but a rational answer nonetheless. We were not confronted with the walking dead. There was a scientific explanation."
"Still," said Stoker, "there is something compelling about the notion of a dark, Satanic afterlife, a living hell on earth."
"I will leave such musings to your somewhat overly romantic soul." said Doyle dryly. "For my part, I am content to have seen this nightmare brought to a conclusion. Grayson believes that he has found his killers with the help of the Green Dragon tong and if he is puzzled by the riddle of the mysterious American scholars who have disappeared without a trace, then it will give him something to dwell upon in his retirement someday. The one mystery which he could never solve."
"Unlike Holmes, who solved them all, is that it?" Stoker said.
"Well… perhaps that yet remains to be seen. And as for Moreau, well, good luck to him, I say."
"You've been very quiet, Wells," said Stoker. "You've hardly said a word all evening. I don't know about you, but for my part, I do not know if I would object greatly to this process of 'enforced forgetfulness' the general has spoken of. I will have nightmares about this experience for years to come."
"I suspect I will have dreams, as well," said Wells, "but of a rather different sort."