"Thank you, ma'am."

He closed the door after her and returned to Sadhvi Raghavendra, who, in truth, was the real reason he might consider a repeat visit to 3 Bayham Street.

"What do you know of mesmerism?" he asked as he sat down.

"I saw it practised many times when I was a child," she replied.

"Are you scared of it?"

"No. I want to know what it is that I can't remember. If that means placing me in a trance, so be it."

"Good girl. Wait a moment-let me pull this chair a little closer."

Burton shifted the armchair until he was sitting face to face with the nurse. He looked her in the eye and spoke in her language.

"Allow yourself to relax. Keep your eyes on mine."

Two pairs of dark, fathomless eyes locked together.

"You have long lashes," said the girl.

"As do you. Don't speak now. Relax. Copy my breathing. Imagine your first breath goes into your right lung. Inhale slowly; exhale slowly. The next breath goes to the left lung. Slowly in. Slowly out. And the next into the middle of your chest. In. Out."

As her respiration adopted the Sufi rhythm he was teaching her, Sister Raghavendra became entirely motionless but for an almost undetectable rocking, which Burton could see was timed to her heartbeat.

He murmured further instructions, guiding her into a cycle of four breaths, each directed to a different part of her body.

Her mind, subdued by the complexity of the exercise, gradually gave itself over to him. He could see it in her luminous eyes, as her pupils expanded wider and wider.

Suddenly, the black circles closed inward from the sides, forming perpendicular lines, and the deep brown irises blazed a bright pink. Something malevolent regarded him.

Burton blinked in surprise but the illusion-if that's what it was-was gone in an instant.

Her eyes were brown. Her pupils were wide black circles. She was entranced.

Recovering himself, he spoke to her: "I want you to return to last night; place yourself in Penfold Private Sanatorium, in Lieutenant Speke's room. You've been reading to him but now you are interrupted. A man enters the room."

"Yes," she replied softly. "I hear a slight creak as the door swings open. I look up from my book. There is a footstep and he is there."

"Describe him. In detail."

A shudder ran through her body.

"Such a man! I've never seen the like! His frock coat is of crushed black velvet; his shirt, trousers, shoes, and hat are all black, too; and his pointed fingernails are painted black; but his skin and hair-straight hair, so long that it falls past his collar-they are whiter than snow! He's an albino! There is no trace of colour on him except in the eyes, which are of a dreadful pink with vertical pupils like a cat's."

Burton started. Those same eyes had looked out of the girl's head just moments ago!

"There is something wrong with his face," she continued. "His upper and lower jaws are pushed a little too far forward, almost forming a muzzle, and his teeth-when he smiles-are all canines! He enters the room, looks at the lieutenant, looks at me, then tells me to fetch a trolley. I must obey. It's as if I have no will of my own."

"So you leave the room?"

"For a moment, and when I return there are three-three-"

She stopped and whimpered.

"Don't worry," soothed Burton, "I am here with you. You are perfectly safe. Tell me what you can see in the room."

"There are three men. I-I think they are men. Maybe something else. They are short and wear red cloaks with hoods and they are each sort of-sort of twisted; their bodies are too long and too narrow in the hip; their chests too deep and wide; their legs too short. Their faces, though-their faces are-"

"Yes?"

"Oh, save me! They are the faces of dogs!"

Burton sat back in surprise. He reached into his jacket and drew the sketch by Dore from his pocket. He unfolded it and showed it to the girl.

"Like this?"

She recoiled away from him and began to tremble violently.

"Yes! Please-please tell me-what are they?" Her voice rose in volume and pitch. "What are they?"

He took her hands in his and stroked their backs with his thumbs. Her skin felt smooth, soft, and warm. The heady scent of jasmine filled his nostrils.

"Shhh. Don't be afraid. It's over, Sadhvi. It is in the past."

"But they aren't human!"

"Perhaps not. Tell me what happens next."

"I walk back into Lieutenant Speke's room with the trolley, see the-the three things-then the albino jumps from behind me and restrains me, with a hand over my mouth. He is so strong! I can't move! The dog-log-menthey lift Lieutenant Speke from his bed, place him on the trolley, and wheel him out of the room."

"There are no other nurses? No one else sees them?"

"No, I don't think so-but you have made me realise something: the sanatorium, or at least this wing of it, seems very quiet; more so than it should be, even at such an early hour."

"So the dog creatures leave the room-and then?"

"Then the man turns me, looks into my eyes, and tells me to forget; to remember only that Speke's family took the lieutenant. He leaves the room and I follow him along the corridor toward reception. I feel strange. There are nurses standing motionless and, as he passes them, he says something to each in a low voice. We reach reception, and I see the trolley standing empty by the desk. The albino orders me to move over to it and I obey. He speaks to the nurse at the desk and she starts to blink and look around. Then he walks toward the main door and, as he passes me, he says, `Awake!"'

She sighed and visibly relaxed. "He's gone."

"And now you find yourself pushing the trolley and remembering nothing of what just happened?" put in Burton.

"Yes."

"Very well. Close your eyes now. Concentrate on the rhythm of your breathing."

Sister Raghavendra's hands fell from his and she leaned back on the sofa. Her head drooped.

"Sadhvi," he murmured, "I'm going to count down from ten. With each number, you will feel yourself awakening. When I reach zero, you will be fully conscious, alert, refreshed, and you will remember everything. You will not be afraid. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven-"

As he counted, her eyelids fluttered and opened, her pupils shrank into focus, she looked at him, her hand flew to her mouth, and she cried: "Dear God! Did that really happen?"

"Yes, Sadhvi, it happened. A combination of shock and mesmeric suggestion caused you to bury the memories-but we have managed to uncover them."

"Those dog-things were abominations!"

"I suspect the Eugenicists have been at work."

"They can't! They can't do that to humans!"

"Maybe they didn't, Sadhvi. Maybe they did it to dogs. Or to wolves."

Her eyes widened. "Yes," she whispered. "Wolves!"

"What's the motive for abducting Speke, though? That's what puzzles me," continued Burton, thoughtfully. He stood up. "Anyway-thank you, Sister Raghavendra. You've been very helpful."

She rose from the sofa, stepped forward, and placed her hands on his chest.

"Captain, that albino fellow-he's-he's evil. I felt it. You will be careful, won't you?"

Burton couldn't help himself; his hands slipped around her slim waist and he pulled her close, looking down into her deep, soulful eyes.

"Oh!" she gasped-but it wasn't a protest.