“It was the night he told you he’d have your friend the next day,” says Quincey. “He was wagering with himself, and I think he bet too much. He’s got some astounding talents, see, but also some peculiar vulnerabilities, and–forgive me–I don’t think he aimed to disappoint.”

“So he’s in trouble? Maybe the same trouble as Lucy?”

Quincey nods.

“Well,” says Mina briskly, “if so, that should save us some time.”

The rat-eating man hisses, then bounds out the open window.

“If I look down onto the street,” asks Mina carefully, “I won’t see anything, will I?”

“You’re quick,” says the newcomer, and ambles up to retrieve his knife. “Next time I may not chase him off. He knows more than he ought to…”

“I don’t believe we were ever introduced,” says Mina.

“Quincey Morris,” says Dracula’s receptionist, “and Miss Murray, I think I need your help.”

“Don’t worry!” hiccups the man. His voice is deeper than his giggle: almost a baritone, with the occasional squeak. “It’s not one of his!”

“His?” Mina wonders if she should call the police. For a detective? “His what?”

“His meaner things. His rat. His bat. His owl, moth, fox, wolf. I caught this one myself, downstairs, I only brought it for a snack in case I had to wait which I did, you see?”

Mina tries to determine whether it’s anti-feminist to faint now.

“If you’re waiting too,” he says reasonably, “the line starts behind me.”

Who’d kidnap her, and why? No ransom. No evidence. Resources to hire disappearing twins and turn her apartment upside down. Long arms, she thinks.

Resources. Long arms. Conspiracy.

She bursts into Dracula’s office the second time with a wild eye, not sure whether to accuse him or save him, but he’s not there: only a ragged man, giggling, eating a rat on his desk.

“The police,” says Dracula, “long ago stopped taking my messages. I apologize, but you will find nothing missing.”

Mina barks a laugh. “You understand this reflects some suspicion on you! How important the great detective seems now–”

“I will apprehend the perpetrators shortly,” snaps Dracula. “By midnight tomorrow I will also have Miss Westenra. If you wish me to further find her true abductor, Miss Murray, I suggest you curtail your accusations.” With a bow, he’s gone.