Thank you to Thomas Cargen for bringing Moriarty alive.
Like many upper class people of the Victorian Age, James Moriarty had no patience for superstitious nonsense. This was the modern age of steam powered machinery, hydraulic elevators and progressive ideas. Science and technology were his gods. Superstitious beliefs were the province of the lower classes and the uneducated.
And yet here he was at Highgate Cemetery keeping an appointment with the most notorious vampire in history. He waited outside the tomb and waited for the sun finish setting. It would be unwise to knock before it was fully dark. This fellow could be quite testy if he was woken too early.
Of all the unusual individuals that Moriarty supervised for the crown Vlad Tepes the Impaler was the only one that genuinely frightened him. The ancient Wallachian Prince simmered with knowledge and power. He took what precautions he could but he always felt like a mouse chatting with a cat during his meetings with the infamous Drakula, son of the Dragon.
He knocked firmly on the thick stone door when the glow from the sun disappeared on the horizon. After waiting for a minute, he raised his hand to knock again.
“That door is a two inch thickness of stone. Even if I were inside, I could never hear such a timid knock.”
It took all of Moriarty’s self control not to jump in the air when a pale, slim figure materialized beside him. “Good evening, Mr. Tepes.”
“Good evening, Mr. Moriarty.” Vlad stepped forward and opened the massive stone door with ease. “Please enter.”
Vlad Tepes lit a single candle for the benefit of his guest and then settled himself on a throne like wooden chair. “Would you like some wine?”
“Just wine?” Moriarty said with a weak smile.
“Would you like prefer lemonade?”
“Lemonade? Oh, you’re joking.”
“No, I only jest with people I like. Why are you here?”
Moriarty felt like swearing at Tepes. The vampire always had a way of making him feel unsure of himself. Now he was distracted by something as ludicrous as lemonade. If he wasn’t joking then did Tepes actually have lemonade in his tomb and if he did why the hell would he?
Well, if Tepes wanted to play silly games so could James Moriarty. “I’ve always wondered what happened to your moustache.”
Vlad stared at him as if he was estimating how much blood he could drain out of his body.
“Every painting I’ve seen of you there’s always been this enormous moustache straight across your face. Did you decide to shave it because of unseemly blood clots getting stuck in the whiskers?”
There was a soft creak as Tepes settled himself back in his chair and steepled his fingers. He looked into the small flame of the candle for a moment then back toward his guest.
“What is the word you English use? Cheek, yes that is it. You are being cheeky to your betters Moriarty. Luckily for you I’m not a young, impulsive vampire anymore. In my youth I would have ripped the head from your shoulders and drank the blood gushing out of your neck as a reward for this disrespect.”
For the first time in his life Moriarty felt abject terror as Vlad seemed to flow out of his chair and loom over him. “I assume you think that you have protected yourself from me. Let me give you an education.” He ripped open Moriarty’s shirt and yanked the crucifix off his neck.
“This is only a reflection of the faith of the wielder.” He tossed it casually out the door of his tomb. “If that had been worn by someone like Van Hesling it would have burned me to the bone. A crucifix worn by a godless weasel like yourself barely warms my skin.”
He picked up Moriarty by the collar of his suit and carried him out of the tomb like a bag of garbage. “Your only faith is faith in yourself.” Tepe’s face was so close to Moriarty’s that he could smell rancid blood from the vampire’s mouth. “But your faith in yourself has been diminished, hasn’t it? Ever since Sherlock Holmes proved himself your better and made you look like a fool.”
Moriarty was dumped on the ground without ceremony. “I already know what you’ve come to tell me because I consulted with Queen Victoria last night. Don’t visit my home again. It annoys me when my hospitality is abused. Next time send someone with manners.”
The stone door slammed shut and the wind from the door’s closing ruffled the tattered remains of Moriarty’s shirt. He stared with hatred and fear at the tomb. First thing in the morning he would search for Van Hesling and enlist his services.
Steven had only been 12 when he caught the attention of Prince Albert Victor. He had been a naïve stableboy working at the royal stables and he was confused when Prince Albert pushed him into an empty stable and pulled down his pants. All he knew was that you never said ‘no’ to royalty.
For two years he had been the prince’s companion until Albert tired of him. He then became a prostitute in London that catered to upper class gentlemen. Until he had been arrested by a Scotland Yard detective that was very interested in his experiences at the Royal Stables.
He was startled when he realized he was no longer alone in the dark cell. A gaunt well-dressed man stood inside the door and frowned at him.
“You’re even younger than I had been told.”
Steven shrank away from him but there was nowhere to run. “Are you here to kill me?”
“No, but your concern is realistic. I’m here to covertly liberate you from this cell. You will be given money to start a new life and passage on a ship to Australia. This will be the payment for your silence.”
“Yes, of course. I haven’t said a word.”
“Good boy. Let me attend to this door. You can’t leave in the same manner that I entered.” He removed his old fashioned top hat and handed it to Steven.
There was a groan of metal and the door swung open. “Come along young man.”
Steven handed the pale man his top hat back and they walked toward a back corridor in the police station. The man held up a hand as if he sensed someone coming and they continued after a short pause.
Tepes approached a barred window and carefully removed the bars to make the least possible noise. After the pair had left through the window, he replaced the bars as best he could to delay discovery.
Steven’s mood improved quickly as they walked down the backstreet and away from the police station. The softly hissing gaslights cast their shadows ahead of them but Tepes’ shadow was oddly indistinct. “I thought for sure I was a goner when I saw you in my cell.”
“Many people have experienced death and suffering at my hands but you are the victim of this despicable ‘prince’ and have nothing to fear from me. The crown can spend some of its treasure to make this scandal go away.” He grimaced when he noticed his shadow start to climb up the side of a building and reasserted control. “Even a monster like myself has a conscience.”
“I guess we all have to look in the mirror.” Steven answered philosophically.
“Mmm, that might be difficult for me.” Vlad glanced up and down the street before they entered a building where a man was waiting for them in a small, darkly lit room. “This gentleman will take care of you. Good fortune to you Steven.” He turned his dark gaze to the man who had been instructed to take the lad to a ship that would soon be sailing to Australia. “I told Steven that you will take care of his welfare and that is exactly what you will do.”
The man swallowed nervously and bobbed his head in agreement.
Moriarty waited until Tepes had melted away into the shadows of the night before he stepped out of a doorway in the back of the dark room. “Go home.” He snapped at his agent and jerked his head toward the exit. He watched the man leave and then turned toward Steven.
His knife plunged three times under the rib cage and into the young heart. Moriarty jumped backwards to avoid any blood on his clothes. He waited patiently for the boy to bleed out and smirked at Steven when he stretched out his hand as if he expected assistance from Moriarty. He stepped forward again and inflicted some slashes similar to the wounds found on the whores that had recently been killed in the East End. The boy was the wrong sex but still a whore and it should confuse the hapless police.
The prince was paying Moriarty handsomely for a more permanent solution to this unfortunate scandal. “Fuck you bloodsucker!” He muttered as he left the building and quickly strode away.
The queen leaned her hands on the balcony and surveyed the carefully maintained grounds of her summer home. Even at night with the gardens in shades of grey instead of shades of green she enjoyed their symmetry.
She had been Queen of the British Empire for almost fifty years now and Britannia had never been larger or more powerful. Victoria was only five feet tall but she was a giant on the international scene. Her matronly appearance concealed a ruthless and cunning mind that had outmaneuvered kings, presidents and generals.
She heard a rustling sound behind her that was her guest’s polite gesture to inform her of his arrival. “Prince Tepes how do you fare this evening?” The title was no longer current of course by she always referred to Vlad as a prince because she knew it pleased him.
“I am well my Queen. Are you enjoying the evening air?”
“We are. We trust that you have resolved this sordid affair.”
“Yes, but I was thinking that it would have been more appropriate to put your grandson instead of the stable boy on a ship to Australia.”
Victoria sighed. “He is still my grandson and second in line to the throne. This scandal would have damaged the reputation of the crown beyond repair. He has assured me that his depraved behaviour is a thing of the past.”
Vlad kept his silence but skepticism was written plainly on his aristocratic features.
“We have been informed that Mr. Moriarty was in a reduced state after his latest meeting with you.”
“His manner was obnoxious. He is lucky to still be alive.”
“We can well imagine that wretch deserved what he received but we are concerned. He has a brilliant mind that is fueled by spite. We are worried that he knows where you currently reside.”
“Do not concern yourself my Queen. That little rodent is no threat to me.”
“Little rodents can bite. Little rodents spread the black plague that killed over half of Europe. Don’t underestimate Moriarty. He is a useful tool but as dangerous as he is clever. We have selected one of my country houses to be your new home.”
She raised a regal hand to silence his protests. “Please Vlad. We have very few friends left. Allow me to attend to your welfare.”
I'm enjoying Queen Victoria as a bad-ass!
Fantastic. Live the twist regarding the crucifix, your stories always add a layer of belief and realism in the details.