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As we drew near the end of the month of October, Basil, Marilyn and I found ourselves in the midst of one of the strangest of tale that I have ever documented.

As our post arrived late that morning, I found my friend the detective in a most annoyed and confused mood. I could easily understand this, however, for Marilyn—no doubt on one of her wild emotional and vaguely sentimental frienzic whims—had decorated the whole flat—top to bottom—with the symbols of the upcoming holiday; Halloween.

My friend was no doubt perturbed as his chemistry set had been covered with cob webs—making getting to his chemicals a rather sticky situation, while the whole of the sitting room ceiling was strung with black and orange banners. The woman had even taken to skull that Basil had, dusted it off, and set it in the center of the dinning room table—placing black roses in the eyes sockets.

I was sorting through the mail—watching my flustered companion as he stalked about the room—when suddenly Marilyn came drifting down the stairs, dressed in a long black gown and a cape, which she drew around herself, covering her muzzle and swept over to Basil, who stared with an unbemused expression upon his gaunt face.

"I want to suck your blood!" Marilyn hissed in his ear in an eerie, seductive voice.

Basil sighed and laid a hand to his forehead. "Marilyn…what in the name of all that’s good and decent in the world—are you doing?" he asked.

Marilyn ignored the comment and stared into his eyes. "Look into my eyes…you can not resist my power…you will do exactly as I say, for I am your master!" she cried in the same seductive tone.

Basil blinked and then snorted in disgust. "I really have no patience for your antics today, woman." He said walking away.

But Marilyn would not be ignored. She pounced on the detective, throwing him to the floor where she tossed away the cape, revealing two long fangs pertruding from her mouth.

"MARILYN!" Basil shouted at her.

"’Marilyn’? No, my dear, I am not Marilyn! I am the Mistress of Night! Gaze upon this face—for it is the face of evil! Bwahahaahahahahahaha!" she ranted.

"I’ll agree to that!" Basil grumbled, pushing her off him.

Stiffing my laughter I handed Basil a letter.

"What’s this?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer tore it open and began reading at once as I watched his steely green eyes rove over the piece of parchment in his hands.

The next moment he let out a shout of dismay and anger he tossed the paper over his shoulder and slumped into his chair.

"I say, whatever is the matter, Basil?" I gasped.

"The world’s gone mad, Dawson!" he snapped grabbing up the paper again and glaring at it. "The nerve! They very idea! I’m a detective, not a exorcist!" he cried.

This indeed sparked my interest and Marilyn’s too.

"Is it a case, Basil?" I asked.

"If you can call it that, doctor. You had better read it aloud." He said, hanging it to me.

Dear Mr. Basil

I was referred to you by an old friend of mine, whom I think your associate Dr. David Q. Dawson will be familiar with—Mr. Lawrence Tailbiet.—"

"I do know him! We were in medical school together!" I gasped as I recalled my memory. But Basil seemed disinterested in this, so I continued.

Mr. Tailbeit has come upon the most tragic of circumstances. A little of two years ago Mr. Tailbiet married to a beautiful young mouse-maid from Hungary. They’ve had one child since the marriage, only an infant. Up until a week ago they were most content of families—until one evening when the maid—also a Hungarian girl—heard the infant cry-out as if in pain and rushed into the nursery to find the mother bent over the child’s neck, apparently biting it. When she rose there was blood upon her lips. The maid was quite terrified and the father in denial until he too caught his wife in the same act two weeks later. She has since been confined to her room and won’t come out and the husband is beside himself with grief.

He has not been able to explain his wife’s strange and violent behavior for she has never exhibited such behavior before and so he has come to me to ask my advice and recommend someone who might solve this baffling behavior.

Tell me, Mr. Basil, have you ever heard of vampirism?

I have enclosed Mr. Tailbiet’s address. He will be expecting you within a week should you decided to accept the case.

Sincerely yours,

Dr. James Dobbs

"Rubbish! Garbage!" Basil ranted, throwing up his hands. "Vampires indeed! Nothing but folklore and superstition! They very idea!"

"I’ll have you know, Mr. Detective, that vampire’s happen to be real!" Marilyn said matter-of-factly.

"Not a word out of you, Madame! I’ve had quite enough of your silly nonsense of ghosts, ghouls, and vampires!" my friend snapped.

"Well!" Marilyn said indignantly. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning!"

Basil dug his fingers into the arms of his chair.

"I wouldn’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed is someone didn’t wake up me up with their screaming every night!" he said glaring hard at Marilyn. "What was it this time, Marilyn? Dracula or a werewolf?" he asked, drumming his fingers on his violin.

Marilyn stared at her bare feet as they dangled from the chair. "Dracula…" she said at length.

"Ah-ha! I knew it. Dawson, you owe me a new budson burner." My friend said. He and I had made a little wager on what Marilyn would be having nightmares about next since her recent Hollow’s Eve mania.

I glanced again at the letter in my hand.

"Well, Basil, it is case, bizarre as it may be. Maybe we’ll find something of interest in it." I put in, rather curious myself.

"Well, I suppose anything is better than stagnation." Basil mused setting his violin aside. "Very well then, doctor, I will take your advice. We leave for Mr. Tailbiet’s tonight!" Basil agreed.

Marilyn suddenly dashed into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with a very large bulb of garlic.

"What are you doing?" Basil sighed.

"It’s protection. Vampires hate garlic. You see, to kill a vampire, you must first subdue with a cross or garlic—I carry both—and then drive a steak through it’s heart, after which you must decapitate the vampire. Then you proceed to stuff the mouth full of garlic and place it in such a way as it will not reattach itself." She said very animatedly, actually acting out the procedure to an invisible vampire.

Basil and I blinked at her, and then the detective sighed, smiled ruefully, and shook his head. "Well, that was far more information then I needed, or indeed wanted, to know. But since you seem so eager to please, Marilyn, I’m putting you in charge of vampire protection." He said.

She stared at him with her large brown eyes wide. "Really? You mean it?" she gasped, a huge smile breaking across her pretty face.

"Every word." The detective replied, smiling knowingly down at her.

All at once Marilyn sprang up into his arms and kissed his cheek. "I looove you! And I’m going to drain your essence from you!" she said cheerfully.

"I have no doubt." Basil sighed as she sprang away up stairs humming and cackling to herself.

"She’ll make an old man out of me yet, Dawson." My friend chuckled shaking his head.

"Yes, and yet, Basil, I must say that there are moments when I can’t imagine how we ever got along without her." I said smiling.

"Yes, well…" Basil said straightening his waist coat, looking anxious to change the subject.

I simply went up stairs to pack my things, pondering fanciful thoughts that I knew Basil wouldn’t agree with.

***

Dusk was falling as Basil, Marilyn and I boarded the train to Sussex, (which we were now quite familiar with.)

Marilyn, I’m afraid, was taking her new roll as vampire slayer to a bit of an extreme. She had dawned a long black cloak over her usual red dress and around her neck she wore a large silver crucifix. The woman was bogged down by a heavy bag, which I knew contained an assortment of stakes, garlic cloves, holy water, and rosary.

Basil had said nothing about the whole affair, taking a rather nonchalant attitude towards the whole baffling mystery. I suspect he expected to find nothing save a crazy nurse-maid and a particular oddity of a family, but certainly not anything worthy of his detective reasoning.

As we seated ourselves in our compartment Marilyn suddenly froze.

"Did you hear that?" she gasped in a tiny voice.

"Hear what?" I asked looking around.

"It sounded like…footsteps." She said.

Basil glared up at her from his seat. "Marilyn, we are on a train. There are bound to be people walking about. Now sit down and relax, and not another word out of you about vampires until we arrive in Sussex. Then you may rave all you like." He said as she sat down, gazing about the room suspiciously.

Basil reclined in his seat, drawing his hat down over his eyes as he rested while I and Marilyn busied ourselves with a bit of dinner.

"You know I once read about—" Marilyn began to tell me excitedly, but Basil abruptly cut in.

"Ah-ah! Not a word." He said, waving a finger at her.

"But I was just going to tell him about the v—"

"Not a syalble! I mean it, Marilyn. You even mention that word one more time and I’ll---"

"You’ll what?" Marilyn challenged, leaning close to him.

For a moment they sat transfixed in each other’s gaze, and then a wicked smile curled across Basil’s lips.

"I’ll kiss you in a way I’ve always dreamed of kissing you." He said.

Marilyn’s eyes widened impossibly, and she quickly sat back, blinking in shock at him,

"Yep…my brain stopped." She murmured.

Basil chuckled. "I knew that would work." He said to me.

For a while we sat in silence in which we all dozed a bit, until Marilyn very suddenly stated, "I’m hungry."

"You just ate." I put in, looking up at her.

"I have a very active metabolism. I need pie…pumpkin pie." She said rubbing her hands together, standing up and drawing her long black cloak around her, starring at Basil and I with darkened eyes.

"If I don’t return with the hour, send a pumpkin pie after me." She said, sweeping out of the compartment.

"Don’t worry…I won’t." Basil sighed, reclining in his seat once more. "Doctor, would you be so good as to tag-along after the impetuous little whelp? My conscience would simply plague me if anything unfortunate were to befall the dear girl." He added sarcastically, taking out his pipe.

Dutifully I followed after Marilyn on to find her suddenly deterred from her path. She stood peering into the window of another compartment showing great interest with something inside.

I approached her cautiously so not to startled her, only to find her staring in at a woman clad in gypsy garb, brooding over a deck of very worn cards.

"I say, Marilyn, what are you--?" I began to ask softly as I peered over her shoulder.

"Shhh!" she hissed, waving a hand at me. All at once the compartment door slid open and both Marilyn and I tumbled inside.

"Come in, come in, my dears. We mustn’t lurk in doorways, it’s rude." Said the woman in a thick Hungarian accent. She glanced at Marilyn and I as we straightened ourselves and smiled.

"Ahhh, you wish to know about the vampire, yes?" she asked, looking at Marilyn who starred at her in awe.

"How did you--?" I began but once more I was silenced by Marilyn.

"It’s alright, Dawson, she’s a gypsy. We know everything." The girl explained.

Thought I thought this was rather ethnocentric, I said nothing, intruidged as I was with the events of this case unfolding before me.

"The cards told me you’d come, searching for the vampire. You are merely lucky you haven’t yet found it. Now…there is a third person in your party, yes? A man…tall, thin,…very intelligent…very famous for his talents…yes?" she croaked.

"Astonishing!" I gasped, for she had described our companion perfectly.

"Oh, him." Marilyn yawned. "Yes, the detective is asleep in our compartment. Now, pray madame, what can you tell me of the vampire?"

Perhaps it was the storm that was steadily brewing outside or simply the eerie and etherial atmosphere that had enveloped us, but the room suddenly seemed to grow darker as though something were choking out the light.

"I am afraid I have very grave news for you, child. The one you seek will soon be seeking you instead." She said.

Marilyn said down eagerly next to the old woman. "Madame, tell my fortune so that I may learn what will befall us on our search." She said.

TO BE CONTINUED VERY SOON!!! STAY TUNED! :D