52 Westmoreland Rd
Barnes
London SW
Mar 23rd, 1903

Dearest Jack,

I hope you are in good health and that all is well in the hospital. Here is my latest epistle, with what I hope will be exciting news. Now that all the wedding fuss is over, I feel I have time to write to you again. Thank you ever so much for the gifts, and also for not informing your father about the Colonel's less-than-ideal past. I believe he was left with the impression my husband is a military man newly returned from service in India, and I believe that will do nicely.

I must confess, after all the recent hullabaloo, it seemed unusually quiet at home. I have been longing for a bit of excitement, as the spring parties have been somewhat dull lately and quite subdued. Perhaps I am getting older and enjoy them less. No sooner had I begun to think of this, when my mind turned to poor Dr Van Helsing. I was almost certain he was still in London. The matter involving the Count and my husband of which I wrote to you may have confirmed it, and John agrees, and though he would not tell me what the two of you spoke of regarding "our Eastern European friend".

Once I had mentioned it the Colonel became quite interested and suggested we began a search for the good doctor. I informed him you had already tried to ascertain his whereabouts, without success. He said that you had probably only tried the usual channels, and it would be a 'd-mned clever cove' who could hide from the people he knew in London town. He said he would put the word out, as there were a few who owe him favours. I did not ask who 'the few' were, as they are undoubtedly some criminal element, of which no civilised citizen knows, nor indeed cares to know.

We heard nothing more of it until a week later when a scruffy young urchin appeared at the door with a message for 'Tiger Jack' and informed us that he'd seen a "red-eyed devil wi' a funny voice a-coming and going from warehouse in Clapton and sometimes a great black dog as well" and also a fellow matching the doctor's description at the window. The Colonel gave him a shilling and a sent him on his way after obtaining directions to said warehouse.

I hope you will not be too upset about my putting myself in danger once again, but the Colonel and I proposed to investigate (he, at least considers me a worthy companion in a scrape!), and so we did, however, we thought it best to do so in daylight, when the Count would be at his rest. We went directly to the warehouse, and were forced to break the door in, much to the surprise of Dr Van Helsing, who was within, as well as a large coffin, which I guessed instantly was the vile fiend's resting place. At first the doctor seemed ready to fight us, but when I called out to him who I was, he responded, recognising me as your aunt. After we had ascertained that the Count was dead to the world, if you will forgive the pun, we began a hasty conversation, for Dr van Helsing constantly cast nervous glances towards the dark, squat box in the corner of the warehouse. We asked how long he had been here, and he related his tale to us.

It seems that ever since I saw the Count and he at the psychometry séance, the two had been in service to her late Majesty's government. This we had guessed from his presence on the Colonel's mission, but there was more. It seems there is a branch of her majesty's secret services that deals with supernatural creatures and matters pertaining to them. As soon as they became aware of the Count's entry into this country (sadly, long after they could have been any help in rescuing any of his earlier victims) they went to Dr van Helsing, to whom at that point in time, the Count was being particularly subservient, and offered help in controlling his monster, return for the monster's co-operation in certain "tasks" they needed completing. Since at that point, the Count was uncertain, defeated and dispirited, he seemed willing to take orders from the doctor. Now, it seemed, that he had been manipulating the doctor into not striking while he was weakest and destroying him once and for all, playing on the possibility of redemption. All had proceeded apparently according to plan, until some time the doctor thought to be late last year, when they had been moved to this hideout without any explanation, told to wait for further orders and heard nothing more. The doctor confided that he did not think his erstwhile employers would ever return with the promised help, and the Count had been growing in power, wandering the streets of the east end of nights and slaughtering the innocent and stealing food for his 'master' a title which he used quite mockingly, he was quite sure.

At this point my husband told him to buck up, and offered him an aniseed ball from the paper bag he had been carrying with him. I thought this a little flippant, but the Colonel is given to odd behaviour. I added that we would certainly do all in our power to bring him out of this predicament, and this the Colonel seconded. At this, the doctor seemed to brighten out of the melancholy humour which had clearly been affecting him as much as malnutrition, and lack of sleep.

We left, after the doctor had made us promise not to return unless completely necessary in case the Count became aware we had visited, and after promising that we should find a solution as quickly as possible to remove him from his purgatory. On the way home, the Colonel kindly gave the remains of his sweets to a passing urchin I have been racking my brains ever since, and my husband has been making plans of his own, battle plans he calls them, but confides that he can think of no sufficient force short of his majesty's entire cavalry to release the good doctor. Nevertheless, I refuse to break my promise.

I remain, as ever, your loving aunt

Mrs Anna Moran

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Royal London Hospital
Whitechapel Road
London E
Mar 26th, 1903

Dearest Aunt Anna,

I read your last letter in surprise and bewilderment. This is wondrous news! I am even prepared to relax some of my attitudes towards your husband, on hearing that he was able to locate our friend. I was eager to ask you Dr van Helsing's location, but then thought better of it, given his request that you not return to visit him, and also considering another occurrence. A little street urchin was brought into the hospital yesterday, drained of all blood with two tiny bite marks at his throat, and in his pocket dear aunt, a paper bag of aniseed balls! Your husband is certainly a cunning one, and ruthless to boot. I wish you all the best of luck in keeping your promise, and should you require the help of a physician, or of John Seward himself, please send a telegram or messenger and I shall be there at once. I have quite given up trying to discourage you from these adventures of yours. If father could not do it, I doubt I can for I have not his force of character, and besides that, you are clearly in capable, if worrying hands.

Hoping your luck continues to hold out,

Dr John Seward

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52 Westmoreland Rd
Barnes
London SW
April 5th, 1903

Dearest Jack,

I hope you are well and all goes well at the hospital. Responding to your letter of the 26th with further developments regarding our Dutch friend, we believe we have hit upon a possible solution.

Perhaps you will remember my mention of the seances my friends insist on dragging me along to? I thought perhaps since our problem was a supernatural one, I should seek among those conversant in supernatural matters for an answer. I sent an epistle to Dr Wescott explaining the situation and asking for his aid. He informed me that he was very busy at the moment, something about trouble among his fellow magical practitioners regarding the legitimacy of certain rites, but it just so happened that there was a practised occultist of his acquaintance visiting the country from New Orleans, one well versed in dealing with evil beings, by the name of Charles-Laurent de Marigny(7), who he was sure would be quite willing to help us, being fond of adventure and suchlike. I sent a letter to Monsieur de Marigny immediately (as well as one thanking Dr Wescott for his aid) and received a very enthusiastic response. M. de Marigny was apparently finding the lecture tour on which he was engaged quite tedious and, sensing the urgency of my letter asked that we visit him immediately.

We did so, last Wednesday. He was housed in rather embarrassingly poky rooms in Bankside (I really feel they could have done better), in which he seemed to have piled a great many books and papers and mystical implements (I do not know whether he brought them with him from America, but if he did, I expect he will have required a entire package steamer all to himself!). M. de Marigny himself was a man apparently advanced in years, though still slim, dark and saturnine and with the youthfulness that certain such men seem to possess. We exchanged the usual niceties, he told us of Madame de Marigny and his little son, Etienne-Laurent back in New Orleans, but it seemed he was in a great hurry to get to the matter in hand, and so we did. He produced books, describing the 'Nosferatu' or Vampire (a subject with which we are all familiar) and then went on to tell us all sorts of quite unbelievable tales (though perhaps I should be more open-minded, considering all that I have heard of and indeed, seen) about sleeping, creatures with names that I shall not even try to pronounce, let alone spell, and how they were imprisoned on our earth by the Elder Gods. The sort of things that would make a Disruption Free Church Pastor full of fire and brimstone quiver in his hobnailed boots! The gist of it was, he knew of a sigil, a sigil given to humanity as a sign of the protection of these gods. It was with this sigil that the awful horrors he described were kept locked away. A sigil of such power, he hoped, when accompanied with the appropriate incantations and suchlike would be sufficient to control our friend the Count, to bring him under the permanent sway of Dr van Helsing, a humble servant. He showed us this sigil, informing us that it is thought to trace the path of Venus through the night sky over the course of time. At this point, I must say I had to suppress a laugh, and I saw the Colonel's mouth twitch in hidden amusement. The sigil seemed to be nothing more than a simple five pointed star, such as children will chalk on a blackboard when they are drawing the night sky. But then, is not the cross, which so many people draw over themselves as protection from evil, a simple sign with greater connotations? Who can say what certain idle scribblings may truly represent...

That aside, we have determined to act as soon as possible. M. de Marigny has drawn up the appropriate names of power in Hebrew and a strange script he calls 'Enochian'. We shall go to Dr van Helsing's warehouse, or prison I should say and perform the rites while the fiend sleeps in his coffin and thusly bind his evil power. Hopefully Dr van Helsing will be willing. I am asking you to join us, dear Jack (if you can get time off from your duties). I am sure you will be eager, and the danger of no consequence to you. I believe it is unfair that I have left you out of this so far, especially considering the effort you have been putting in on Dr van Helsing's behalf. We will be having a meeting to plan the endeavour on the 8th. I will have the butler put out your favourite teacakes in anticipation.

Yours in earnest hope and prayers my luck continues to hold,

Mrs Anna Moran

P.S. I asked the Colonel about the aniseed balls, but he merely smiled through his whiskers and avoided the subject in a most vexing manner.

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Royal London Hospital
Whitechapel Road
London E

Dearest Aunt Anna,

Wild horses and cholera outbreaks could not keep me away from this! I have telegraphed Arthur, but he is unable to come to London in time and wishes us the best of luck. I shall see you and the Colonel on the 8th.

Yours in great anticipation,

Dr John Seward