Free Devil May Care (A Jonathan Harker Mystery) by Tony Evans

Harker, are you by any chance the same gentleman who is said to have experienced an extraordinary adventure in Eastern Europe two years ago?’
    I nodded. ‘I will not deny it. But you must not believe all the lurid details which found their way into the newspapers at the time. I hope that one day a full account of the whole business will be written.’
    ‘In that case we must not ask you to pre-empt your story,’ said the Reverend Trewellard with a smile.
    After that our discussion reverted to the mundane and it was clear that I would get no more information from Sir Owen regarding his interests in the occult. It was now quite apparent that any attempt to return home that night would be foolhardy. With Sir Owen’s permission I opened one of the study window shutters and through the leaded window panes I could see that the line of stunted trees to the north-west was swaying violently in the wind. It seemed that Carrick Manor had been built on a slight elevation, as a solid stream of rainwater poured down the driveway away from the walls. When the baronet again invited us all to stay the night there was really nothing for me to do but acquiesce.
    As Jennings had been given permission to retire the baronet took us to our rooms one by one. It turned out that he had anticipated the need to shelter us, as all had been prepared for our reception.
    My own room was on the second floor, situated half way down a long corridor. It seemed that we were all to be accommodated in the same area of the house and Paxton and Trewellard had already been shown into rooms off the same passageway.
    The spacious chamber into which I had been ushered was illuminated by the glow of a log fire which had been laid in a stone inglenook at one end of the apartment. A good supply of fresh wood was banked on each side of the fire basket and I soon built up a warm blaze. A candle and matches had been thoughtfully placed on a side table, along with a carafe of water, but I decide that the light from the fire would suffice to allow me to undress and get into bed. Heavy curtains were hung over the windows and with these and the protection of the massive stone walls I was well insulated from the wild gusts which raged outside: a muffled whistling from the chimney pots two floors above me was the only reminder that I had of the storm. The combination of the warm fire, crackling logs, a good meal and fine port soon ensured that I fell soundly asleep.
    *
    I awoke suddenly, in the midst of a confused and half-remembered dream. Something had disturbed me, but I could not tell what. Then a bright gleam of light darted from the side of the bedroom curtains, followed an instant later by a violent clap of thunder. No doubt its predecessor had jolted me from my sleep.
    The embers of my fire were almost extinguished, but provided enough light for me to locate the matches and light my candle. I took out my pocket watch: it was half-past two in the morning. There was a further flash of lightening and this time the accompanying thunder was appreciably delayed. Hopefully the storm was moving away and might presage an end to the foul weather.
    I was just about to extinguish my candle and return to bed when I heard a fleeting sound from outside my bedroom door. It appeared to have come from further down the corridor and was too distinct to have been the creaking or groaning of old oak floors which can often be heard in ancient buildings in the silence of the night. I crept to my door, opening it carefully and looked up and down the corridor. The light from my candle provided sufficient illumination to assure me that the doors to all the rooms were closed.
    Then I heard more sounds – not a brief noise this time, but more like a subdued rumble. Yes – it was the murmur of hushed voices and I realised that the earlier noise had probably been that of a door closing. I guessed that one of the occupants of the bedrooms nearby had received a nocturnal visitor.
    I decided there