Chapter SixteenAt the front gate rested a hansom cab containing my stalking shadow from the previous evening. Sitting beside Stoker was a fellow of a similar age with an impressively waxed moustache that stuck out further than his ears, giving him something of a bullish appearance. Introduced as Stoker’s cousin, Dr Arthur Doyle, I began our meeting with an apology.
‘It would seem I have brought you both out here under false pretences. What I thought was a case of spiritualism has become more about assassination and fairy tales.’
‘Oh dear,’ sighed the doctor, crestfallen with losing his chance of a little adventuring. The life of a doctor it seems was not exciting enough for some.
‘We had an agreement, so do not for a second think I will take kindly to being brushed aside like this,’ the
