Heeeeeeeeeeeeere's Van Helsing!
Chapter Eight: Arrival
The road has been so long and rough
I have not seen life long enough
Carl got to his feet, forgetting his ink-stained fingers and the even more ink-stained tablecloth. As Van Helsing burst into the room, he found his smaller friend ready and waiting, a welcoming smile on his lips, and his hand stretched out for a shake.
"Carl!" boomed Van Helsing. "Tell your disturbingly friendly sister to give me my hat back!"
"What for?" asked Carl, staring at him. "That's a very interesting haircut. I never dreamed you had sideburns."
Van Helsing glared at him and Carl wilted slightly. It was, if nothing else, an interesting haircut. The shaved half was growing back, and the rest had been trimmed to match it. It stuck up in front, an inch and a half off his forehead, and the dull black of it seemed to absorb all light without giving any back.
"Hannah, please give nice Mr. Van Helsing his hat back."
"It's not polite to wear a hat into a gentlewoman's home," sniffed his sister from somewhere in the hall behind the muscular bulk that was Van Helsing.
"Nor is it polite to rip it off his head and then scream at the scars." The bandages, Carl saw, had finally come off, but Van Helsing's burns still stood out alarmingly on his forehead and temples. He didn't look embarrassed about it, but neither did he look entirely happy. He strode past Carl into the room and seated himself at the table. Carl followed, and Hannah fluttered around, as much as a large woman can flutter.
"T-teatime is o-over," she said. Her voice was high-pitched and worried.
"Have some cake," invited Carl.
"Thank you, I think I will."
"What are you doing here?"
"Did Jinette not tell you I was coming?"
"They tell me nothing," said Carl darkly. "Generally I am left to find things out for myself."
"Ah." Van Helsing shrugged. "I am come to assist you in the retrieval of the needed materials for my proposed new weapon."
"To assist me in—" Carl stared at him somewhat indignantly. "You mean you sent yourself, didn't you? The Order had nothing to do with it! You just don't trust me to get your toy home in one piece!"
"Actually, that's what I'm concerned about. It comes in its component parts— suppose you got bored on the journey homewards and decided to put it together?"
"Suppose I did?"
"And suppose you decided to test it out on the spot?"
"Which I never would," said Carl immediately.
"Of course not. But suppose you did."
"Well?"
"Well, I'd want to be there, wouldn't I?"
Carl dropped his indignant pout and broke into a wide smile, which Van Helsing quickly mirrored.
"So we're to go and get the objects tomorrow, yes?"
"Er— could we talk about this sometime when my sister is not present?" suggested Carl. Van Helsing looked from him to Hannah, said, "Oh, right," and stood up. He placed an arm around Hannah's shoulders, and guided her wordlessly to the door. Hannah, equally wordless in her amazement at his daring, docilely allowed him to do so. At the threshold Van Helsing let her go and said, quite kindly, "I'll let you do the rest on your own."
Hannah looked at him, opened and closed her mouth a few times, and stepped from the room. Van Helsing quietly closed the door and Carl stared at him in amazement.
"How did you manage that? I'd like to learn."
"Well, she should have known she wasn't wanted," said Van Helsing, sitting down again.
"I'm just surprised you didn't take her all the way out the door and close it in her face."
"Of course not," his companion replied, settling himself and reaching for another cake. "That would be rude."
Carl smiled and began to relax. Of course Van Helsing was here for a purpose— he never did anything without a purpose— but all was well if he came just to oversee the purchase of the axitonne and the other materials.
"Are you sure we cannot go and get it tonight?" Van Helsing was clearly eager to do so.
"Tonight—" Carl felt a slight blush appear on his face. He leaned forward with his chin in his hands trying to disguise it. "Tonight I have a visitor coming. An old friend, from my childhood."
"Oh yes?" Van Helsing noted the blush, which had escaped the reach of Carl's fingers and climbed to the bridge of his nose, his temples, and upwards, not at all hampered by his hairline. "And who would this be?"
"A lady by the name of Tamerlaine Gentle."
"Ah—" said Van Helsing, in an entirely too knowing tone of voice. Carl's blush turned redder.
He said, almost angrily, "She was a childhood playmate. I have not seen her since I was nearly nine years old, and she was six."
"Aha," said Van Helsing. "Then why are you blushing?"
"Anyone would blush the way you were speaking! That— suggestive tone—"
"I haven't seen you like blush like that since I found out about the Transylvanian barmaid."
Carl's eyes lit with anger and embarrassment. "I told you never to mention that!"
"Amazing," his companion murmured, and shook his head. "How do you manage to retain your place in the Order, Carl, with all these lovers scattered across the earth? Are you blackmailing the Cardinal?" His voice was now jesting.
Carl stared at the tabletop, his cheeks still flaming.
"And so you haven't had a chance yet to fully renew your acquaintance with this woman?"
"Well, I only just saw her this afternoon—"
Van Helsing laughed, and Carl realized that he sounded as if he was making excuses. Which was ridiculous, as he had nothing to make excuses for. He sighed. "She's coming to talk with me this evening. To catch up."
"Is this girl pretty, Carl?"
Carl looked at Van Helsing and was clearly confused. Certainly in his eyes Tamerlaine was a thing of beauty, but he was a man who'd spent most of his life in the Vatican, and had no idea how she would appear to his more worldly friend's eyes.
"I don't know," he said finally.
"Well," said Van Helsing, "I suppose I'll get a chance to find out, won't I?"
But he didn't, not that night.
Tamerlaine never appeared.
And the next morning, papers were full of the news—
Woman's Body Found in East River