Frankenstein Lives Again (The New Adventures of Frankenstein) by Donald F. Glut, Mark D. Maddox

the filth that had settled on the castle’s interior throughout the centuries, crawling over its stone steps and creeping into its shadowed corners like some living fungus.
    She cast a rather proud glance about the laboratory, seeing that the cold walls were now free of the dust and cobwebs that had dominated the place during the many decades that had passed since Victor Frankenstein resided here. An appealing smile formed on her lips. Then she reacted to the sound of someone knocking on the castle door.
    “Just a moment,” she said, gracefully rushing out of the laboratory with long strides and doubting that her voice would carry outside to her visitor.
    Reluctant at first, at last she pulled open the door, which creaked as though it had not budged since the time of Victor Frankenstein himself.
    A stocky man with a long, sweeping mustache stood in the doorway. There was no sign of warmth or friendliness anywhere on his cherubic face. He made a polite bow at the waist, then looked up at the young woman.
    “I shall come to the point,” he said in an apparently offic; manner. “My name is Krag. And I am the Burgermeister that is to say, the Mayor of Ingolstadt.”
    Lynn almost expected the man to click his heels.
    “And to what do I owe this honor?” she asked courteously
    Mayor Krag coughed an artificial cough. “ Harrrummphf . I am not here socially,” he said. “I wish to speak with Herr Doktor Winslow.”
    “Dr. Winslow is not here,” she answered. “He is still away but should be returning soon.”
    “But I saw the lights in the castle for the past few nights,” he said, puzzled. “I assumed that he was here.”
    “I had the lights on,” Lynn informed him. “My name is Lynn Powell.”
    Krag suspiciously cocked an eyebrow. “Powell?” he said. “Then you are not… Frau Winslow?”
    She could feel her face suddenly flush, but then considered that this little town was probably moving into the more liberal modern world slower than her own country. Better to choose her words discreetly, she thought.
    “I am Dr. Winslow’s secretary and assistant,” she told him. “Dr. Winslow is still away on his trip and I’ve been asked by him to take care of his property while he’s gone. If you doubt me, or think I’m up to some kind of trouble here, I’ll show you Dr. Winslow’s letter authorizing me to be here. I’m sure you’re familiar with his signature on the deed to this place and —”
    “Er, nein, nein , that is quite all right… fraulein ? Powell?” The Mayor made another polite bow, this one obviously prompted by his own embarrassment. “I believe you.”
    Krag cleared his throat and did his best to remain dignified. He shrugged his shoulders, then cast a suspicious glance about the place. Lynn wondered if he were expecting some ghost or demon or the Frankenstein monster himself stalking out from the shadows.
    “When will Dr. Winslow be returning to Ingolstadt?” he inquired, still looking about the place.
    “I’m not really sure,” she said. “Shortly, I hope.”
    “Then I will return here when the doktor comes back. The station master is a friend of mine and will inform me when that happens.” As he finished speaking, he turned his attention away from his surroundings and back to Lynn, never once moving from the spot where he stood.
    Krag turned his head toward the open front door through which he could see some of the boxes that had been sent to Winslow.
    “I’ll tell him you were here, Mayor Krag,” Lynn said pointedly, interrupting his concentration.
    “ Were? Harrummphf! Ah, yes. But I must warn you that the villagers are already murmuring about those crates which have been delivered here. It makes me uneasy when the townspeople mumble like that. Mob violence is something I have never experienced and may be beyond my meager powers to control.”
    “And why,” said Lynn, “should some boxes lead to mob violence Mr. Mayor?”
    “My people are not dummkopfs !” he