Chapter 6


    That afternoon, Holmes and I stepped inside Inspector Lastrade’s office at Scotland Yard, accompanied by the gigantic blue, satanic countenance of Lord D’Hoffryn. The look on the Inspector’s face was both astounded and confounded. He rose from behind his desk and tried to speak, but only hemming and hawing sounds came from his throat.


    He finally caught his breath and said, “Holmes. What have you done? You haven’t arrested the Devil himself, have you?”


    “Never fear Inspector.” Holmes told him, “The people of London will continue to be in need of your services.”


    Now the blue giant spoke. “Good day Inspector. I am D’Hoffryn, Lord of Arashmahar.”


    Lastrade repeated “Arashmahar?” He looked at me. “Is that in India?”


    The large man said, “It is as near to you, as the laws you enforce Inspector.”


    Holmes explained, “Lord D’Hoffryn is Sovereign Master of all Vengeance Demons Inspector.”


    D’Hoffryn said, “Justice is vengeance controlled and refined Inspector. The law gives it respectability. You are in fact, one of my minions.”


    Lastrade said, “Vengeance Demons? I’m his minion? What nonsense is this Holmes?”


    Holmes said, “Lord D’Hoffryn has offered his help, in tracking down the murderer of Mr. Reginald Carter.”


    Lastrade took a deep breath. He sat back down behind his desk, and confidently folded his arms in front of himself.


    He said, “Thank you Your Lordship, but we already have very reliable information, which leads us to believe that Mr. Carter was killed by a dreadful poet named William Farnsworth. We have people scouring the City in search of him. However, he has so far managed to elude us. If you do happen to know his whereabouts sir...I mean Your Lordship, please tell us now.”


    The giant blue Eminence spoke. “I have no idea where Mr. Farnsworth is, but I know the identity of the actual murderess.”


    Lastrade looked mildly startled. “Did you say ‘murderess’?”


    “Yes Inspector. She goes by the name of Miss Cecily Halfrich.”


    The Inspector spoke sharply. “Cecily Halfrich? She is the one who has accused Mr. Farnsworth. We have a constable posted outside her door, to protect her until he is apprehended.”


    Holmes said, “Then you shall have no problem apprehending her, Inspector.”


    “Indeed.” He called out, “Giles!”


    The door opened, and a police sergeant stepped inside the office, gazing at D’Hoffryn with awe.


    He said, “Yes sir?”


    Lastrade told him, “I want Miss Cecily Halfrich brought in for questioning forthwith.”


    “Yes sir.”


    Sergeant Giles stepped out of the office, closing the door behind himself.


    Now Holmes explained, “Miss Halfrich is in actuality, a wish granting vengeance demon named Halfrek. She has lost her powers. She is trying to regain them by exacting unwished for vengeance.”


    D’Hoffryn spoke, “According to the Eternal Covenants, of the Vengeful Order of Arashmahar, a Vengeance Demon works behind the scenes, to bring about vengeance; but only when mortals wish for us to do so. However, we are never to exact any unwished for vengeance, and never with our own hands. Miss Halfrich has violated those Eternal Covenants. For that she will suffer my wrath.”


    A half-hour later Sergeant Giles stepped back inside the office.


    He said, “Miss ‘alfrich ain’t at ‘ome Inspector. She ‘as flown the coop.”


    “’Flown the coop’?” Lastrade raged, “When we had an officer right outside her door?”


    Holmes asked, “Would you like us to aid in the search for her Inspector? We believe that Mr. William Farnsworth is not the only one who might be in danger.”


    “No. Thank you again for your help Holmes, and yours Doctor, and yours too your Lordship, but we can handle the rest ourselves.”


    Holmes, D’Hoffryn and I stepped outside the office.


    D’Hoffryn said, “It is good that you will not bring constables with you. I want you to bring Halfrek to me. Then she will suffer my wrath, so that all wish granting vengeance demons will learn by her example.”


    Holmes said, “I beg your pardon Lord D’Hoffryn, but we must cooperate with the police. Is it possible for you to postpone your wrath, until mortal justice is served?”


    “That will be no postponement. Mortal justice is a small part of my wrath. You are an honorable man Mr. Holmes. I should not ask you to do otherwise.”


    Then I asked D’Hoffryn, “When you say ‘your wrath’, do you mean that what happened with Miss Anyanka will also happen to Miss Halfrich?”


    His blue Eminence said, “What happened to Anyanka was a light reprimand, when compared to the wrath which is in store for Halfrek.”


    D’Hoffryn then departed. I have no idea where he went.


    Holmes and I decided to leave the fate of Miss Halfrich to the Police and to Lord D’Hoffryn.


    The Police did not apprehend her that day, and they also failed to apprehend William Farnsworth. After the next few days there was still no word of them, but no one was murdered with a railroad spike either. Inspector Lastrade called off the search, deciding to wait until something turned up.


    That same day, Holmes told me, “I have heard from the Watchers Council. Lord D’Hoffryn has the demon Halfrek in his custody in Arashmahar, where she suffers his wrath.”


    After two weeks, when Miss Anyanka’s landlord came to collect the rent, he discovered her badly decomposed body inside her flat. She still lay untouched where she had fallen, with her pistol by her side. There was no sign of violence.


    According to the newspaper account, there was not enough money for her to receive a decent burial, so she would be interred in a potter’s field.


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    Holmes said, “That is the wrath of D’Hoffryn.”


    I decided to attend the burial.


    Anyanka’s coffin was interred with a dozen others, just before sunset on a cold afternoon, in a desolate field of unmarked graves on the outskirts of the City. A Chaplain read from the prayer book. One woman, who was shrouded entirely in black and I, were the only mourners standing at graveside.


    Miss Anyanka had been a demon. She had threatened to turn me into a pile of wiggling worms; and yet that day I grieved for her.


    The Chaplain completed his duties and departed. Night had come. I turned away from the grave, and headed toward the gate of the desolate lot. The woman in the black shroud walked beside me.


    She said, “Thank you for being here Doctor.” She spoke with a chirping voice. “It was good of you to come, and grieve for my friend Anyanka. This is all such a pity, that we are the only two who came.”


    I said, “Miss Halfrich?”


    The woman pulled the veil away from her face, showing that she was indeed Miss Cecily Halfrich. She had the same rascally smile on her face.


    “What did you think Dr. Watson? That D’Hoffryn really was tormenting me for all eternity?”


    “I did,” I told her “but my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes understands things that are far beyond me. He thought that Lord D’Hoffryn might have deliberately misinformed the Watchers Council. He also thought that the burial of Miss Anyanka might bring you out of hiding.”


    She asked, “So Mr. Holmes thinks he’s figured every thing out, does he?”


    A male cockney voice spoke behind us. “’e’s not the only one, me effulgent beauty.”


    We both turned around, and found ourselves facing William Farnsworth. Miss Drusilla stood beside him. In the dim light of the gas lamps that stood outside the gate, the expression on his face was hard. In his hand, he carried a railroad spike.


    Drusilla looked as mad as the first time I’d seen her.


    I reached inside my coat pocket and took out a crucifix. Miss Drusilla and Mr. Farnsworth looked at it uneasily.


    He said, “Ya ‘ave nothin’ ta fear from me Doc. Ya been takin’ good care of me Mum. We’d both like ya ta keep right on doin’ it.”


    Miss Halfrich said, “Why William. It’s good to see you again.”


    He spoke with disdain. “Oh is it really now?”


    She said, “You have changed.”


    He spoke sharply. “Oh ‘ave I now? Yer still the same Cecily. Still ‘igh and mighty lady ain’t you? Goin’ round, blamin’ me for the murder ya done.”


    Miss Halfrich told him, “I have murdered no one. Can you say the same, being that you are now a vampire?”


    He shouted, “What the bloody h---?”


    She said, “Don’t use that language in front of me Mr. Farnsworth!”


    Now Drusilla stepped forward, with a mad grin on her face.


    She said, “So you’re Cecily. The woman ‘oo broke me poor William’s ‘eart.”


    “Your ‘poor William’ was beneath me then, and he is even further beneath me now.” Cecily looked at him, “Is this what you have become? A drunken, foul mouthed lout, who carouses with a trollop?”


    Drusilla shouted, “You watch ‘oo you be callin’ a ‘trollop’ lady!”


    Cecily said, “Don’t think that because you are a vampire, I am going to be afraid of you. You do not know whom you are dealing with. My real name is Halfrek. I am a Wish Granting Vengeance Demon, of the Order of Arashmahar. Dr. Watson will vouch for that, won’t you?”


    I said, “My understanding is that you were a vengeance demon, but then you forfeited your powers.”


    Drusilla spoke, and took a step forward. “’Forfeited’ ya say?”


    “That was temporary.” Cecily told us. “My powers have been fully restored!”


    A man shouted from the street behind us. “That is all I needed to hear Miss Halfrich!”


    We turned to face him. Mr. Sherlock Holmes was approaching us, silhouetted in the light of the gas lamps. The deerstalker cap was on his head. He wore his hounds tooth coat, with a cape draped across his shoulders. He held his curved pipe in his mouth, with smoke rising up in front of his hawk nose.


    He walked toward us, taking care not to step on any unmarked grave. He came up and stood within three steps of us.


    “Good evening Miss Halfrich,” he said “or Halfrek if you prefer. Do you again have the power to grant wishes?”


    “I do indeed Mr. Holmes.” she said. The rascally smile returned on her face.


    He said, “Then I wish that you would cease now, just as your friend Miss Anyanka did.”


    She said, “As you have wished it Mr. Holmes, so shall it be done.”


    Then the smile left her face. She said, “Anyanka?”


    Miss Halfrich choked. She trembled slightly, shut her eyes and collapsed to the ground with a sigh. She lay dead, on the cold soil of the desolate lot, just like Miss Anyanka had done inside her flat.


    William, Drusilla, Holmes and I, all stood around her body.


    Holmes said, “I thank you all for your cooperation. The killer of Mr. Reginald Carter has received mortal justice. Your name has been cleared Mr. Farnsworth.”


    William said, “Thank ya Mr. ‘olmes. I truly ‘preciate what ya’ve done, from the bottom of me ‘eart, but it’s too late. ‘ere’s no goin’ back fer me.”


    Then he and Miss Drusilla departed quickly. I haven’t seen either of them since that night.


    That was three years ago. I have heard nothing from William Farnsworth. His mother no longer speaks of her son.


    The Watchers Council recently informed Holmes, that the vampires Angel and Darla are reported to be in Budapest. They are in the company of a Miss Drusilla and a fellow who goes by the name of Spike. If this Spike is Mr. William Farnsworth, then his nickname is ironic indeed.


    I can not bring myself to tell any of this to Mrs. Farnsworth.


    “Oh poor wandering one.


    Though you have surely


    strayed,


    Take heart of grace.


    Your steps retrace.


    (I deeply pray that


    will be possible.)


    Oh poor wandering one.”


    THE END