Page 14 of The Shadow of the Count

“I imagine you have seen my brother, my good man. He’s an actor.” Not many people confused him and Douglas close up, but at this distance, he could credit it. The man was clearly in terrible distress.

“No. No, at my master’s home, there’s a portrait of you in the main hall. It’s enormous and one cannot miss it.”

He actually took a step back, because the man looked at him. Into him, it seemed.

Richard glanced at him with a reassuring smile. “Really, Reynaud. What is your employer’s name?”

Reynaud’s expression turned crafty. “What do I get if I say?”

Richard’s lips tightened then. “More meat.”

“No, no. Something fresh. Something. Please.” The man wrung his hands, scooting closer to the bars.

“Reynaud.”

“I will. I’ll tell you his name.” Those hands never stopped moving, and they were like crawling vermin somehow, making Donnie grimace at the image in his head.

“Then tell me, and I will see what Liam has collected for you.”

“Polidorus. Count Polidorus. Please. Please, I’ve told you—”

Reynaud went on, but Donnie didn’t hear it. Polidorus. That was who had his Peter. That was where his lover was, right this very second.

The world grayed out around the edges, and he felt a hand on his arms, someone shaking him. He blinked. Richard.

“You almost fell down the stairs, Donald. What is it?”

“Polidorus. You said Polidorus. What business did you have with him?” He ignored Richard and stepped nearer to the bars.

“Property in London.” Reynaud scuttled to him, face almost against the window. “He’s buying property here. And in America.”

“Why? What happened to you there?”

“The master promised me life.” Reynaud laughed, the sound loud and freakish.

“I don’t understand. What kind of life?”

Reynaud stopped, froze, if he was honest, and stared right through him. “Eternal life.”

Then the man attacked the grate, almost biting his hand.

He jerked back, shocked, and Richard hit the bars with what looked like a police stick. “Enough. That’s enough. Come, Donald.”

“Is he going to hurt Peter? Polidorus? Is he going to hurt my—friend?”

“I hope not.” Richard seemed concerned now. “Can you wire him?”

“I will most certainly try. There must be a way. Honestly, I have no idea. I have a friend who might be able to help…” He would send a telegram to Monsieur Grant. Surely he would be willing to help. Peter had been instrumental in the success of the Egypt campaign. He had earned some care.

“I will take you where you can send a wire. I think you should as soon as you can.”

“Thank you.” He wanted to run in circles, but he didn’t. He thought furiously as he moved back down the tower stairs, however.

He needed to get Douglas there with him. Perhaps he could also track down Clark and Jeb, though why they should be together he had no idea.

Clark did seem to know where they all were at any given time, however.

“Calm yourself. I am willing to do what I must to assist you.”