“I trust your daughter enjoyed them as well?”
“Indeed she did. We both thank you.”
He turned then and passed out through the door. The Great Detective immediately followed him to it and peered out, doubtless to make certain that he was indeed departing. Before I could take the same route to the same end, however, he caught hold of the door and slid it the rest of the way shut.
Turning, he studied me.
“Snuff,” he said, the falsetto vanished, “you are fortunate that I have a good pair of binoculars and have been inclined to use them of late.
“You are a very unusual creature,” he continued. “I first encountered you in Soho when assisting some friends at the Yard in their investigation of a very unusual series of killings. Subsequently, I have found you to be present in numerous situations both bizarre and intriguing. Your presence seems to have become almost a common denominator to all of the recent peculiar occurrences in this area. It long ago passed the point where I could safely deem it a matter of coincidence.”
I sat down and scratched my left ear with my hind leg.
“That is not going to work with me, Snuff,” he said. “I know that you are not just a dumb dog, a subhuman intelligence. I have learned a great deal concerning the affairs of this month, this place, the people engaged in the enterprise which I believe you refer to as ‘the Game.'”
I paused in my scratching to study his face.
“I interviewed both the inebriated Russian and the equally distracted Welshman on their ways home from the pub one night, in my guise as a jovial traveler in commercial sales. I have spoken with the Gipsies, with your neighbors, with all of the principals involved in this matter of purported metaphysical conflict, yes, I know it to be that, and I have observed many things which permitted me to deduce the outlines of a dark picture.”
I yawned in the rude way dogs sometimes do. He smiled.
“No good, Snuff,” he said. “You can dispense with the mannerisms. I am certain that you understand every word I am saying, and you must be curious as to the extent of my knowledge of the ceremony to be conducted here on All Hallows’ Eve and my intentions concerning it.”
He paused, and we studied each other. He wasn’t giving anything away, even at the olfactory level.
“So I think it is time for a sign of good faith,” he finally said. “Apart from the fact that I may just have rescued you from mortal distress, there are more things that I wish to say and some that I need to know, and I believe these would benefit you as well as myself. If you would be so good as to acknowledge my words, I will proceed.”
I looked away. I had anticipated this as soon as he had begun addressing me in a rational fashion. I still had not decided what my response should be when he finally got around to asking for what had to be a token of faith. And that is what it came down to . . . faith in the man’s professional integrity, though I was certain he would not approve of the goings-on here, and I’d no idea where his significant loyalty lay, to law, or to justice; nor whether he really understood what was at stake. Still, I did want to know what he had learned and what he had intended, and I knew there would be no way for him later to prove his assumptions concerning myself even if I did give him the acknowledgment he wanted.
So I looked back at him, met his eyes for several long seconds, then nodded once.
“Very good,” he responded. “To continue: A great number of crimes have apparently been committed by nearly everyone involved in this ‘Game,’ as you call it. Many of them would be virtually impossible to demonstrate in court, but I have neither a client who requires that I find a way of doing so, nor inclination to pursue such matters for my own amusement. Technically, I am here only as a friend of the Yard, for purposes of investigating the likely murder of a police officer. And this matter will be dealt with in due time. Since my arrival in this place, however, I have been more and more impressed by the unusual goings-on, until, at length, largely because of Mr. Talbot’s strange condition and that of the one known as the Count, I have become convinced that there is something truly unnatural involved. While I dislike such a conclusion, recent personal experiences have also led me to accept its validity. Such being the case, I am moved to interfere with your ‘Game’ two days hence.”