Of Night and Dark Obscurity

by Nicola Italia

  “Any luck yet?” Felix asked setting the cup before Val.

  “Not yet. Some of the names are known to me and they are dead. We might have to obtain photographs of each of these men and bring them to Mr. Morris. The men at the Club used aliases so he’ll have to identify them by face.”

  “That’s a tall order! There must be at least thirty names on the list!” Felix said.

  “Forty-five,” Val sighed.

  The lightning crashed outside and they both looked up. Returning to the handwritten names, Val continued moving down it.

  “I’ll take the second page,” Felix offered.

  “It’s getting late,” Val said hinting that Felix could head home if he wanted.

  “Let’s push on. There may be something here. We won’t know until we get through the list.”

  Val nodded. “Here’s the second page.”

  Felix reviewed the page quickly as Val turned up the gas light in the office. It was almost dark outside and the heavy rain and lightning dominated the sky.

  Val took his pencil and made some notes next to each name. The rain hit the windowpane again and again and it was soothing, though the thunder reminded him of Caroline and that night he told her of Thor.

  Suddenly he saw a name on the page and he rubbed his eyes thinking he was seeing things. He felt himself grow cold as he pushed the page closer to the gas lamp. There was no mistaking it. The name was there in plain handwriting.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said aloud.

  “What is it? You’ve found something?” Felix said; both a question and a statement.

  Val tapped the name and showed it to Felix.

  “Damn.” He swore.

  ✽✽✽

  Lady Victoria Lyttleton had invited Caroline over to her home to hear about the latest updates on the second home, the Prudence Finch House. They enjoyed tea together as Caroline filled her in.

  “It’s almost complete and Stella has been wonderful in finding the best tenants for the house. It’s so exciting. Two houses,” Caroline said happily.

  “You do look worn, my dear.” Victoria told her.

  Caroline nodded. “It has been a trying time. The housing project keeps me going. At night when everything is quiet and my day not so filled, I start to think. I think about my sister and her loss haunts my dreams.”

  “Oh, my dear. I had no idea.”

  Caroline smiled faintly. “I don’t really talk about it. My family is obviously in the same state and it’s just a difficult time all around. That’s why the housing project is so good for me. It helps me focus my energies.”

  “But you must take care. You mustn’t let—“ a heavy knock sounded on the front door and Lady Lyttleton heard the footman walk across the foyer to answer it.

  Voices were heard and the footman entered the room followed by Val and Felix.

  “Inspector!” Lady Lyttleton said with a surprise in her voice. “It is quite late. What brings you out on such an awful night?”

  He nodded to Lady Lyttleton and Caroline. “We are looking for your son, Charles. Is he at home?”

  Victoria seemed to ponder the question. “I’ve no idea. Shand?” She turned to the footman. “Is Master Charles at home?”

  “I believe Master Charles is out.” Shand told them.

  “Is he at his club?” Val asked the man.

  “I couldn’t say Sir. It’s possible but he hailed his own cab so I do not know where he has gone.”

  The footman was dismissed and Victoria smiled coldly. “What is this about, Inspector?”

  “We need to ask Charles some routine questions. Nothing urgent. But as you’re here, do know if Charles owns a watch made of 18 karat gold with roman numerals.”

  Victoria nodded. “He does. It originally belonged to his father. Has it been stolen?”

  “No. It has not been stolen. Please let Charles know that we need to speak to him,” Val said meaning to be deliberately vague.

  “Of course, I will,” Victoria said nodding.

  The two gentlemen went into the foyer and Caroline took this time to say her goodbye to Lady Lyttleton. When she went outside to hail a cab, Val remained alone and the rain was pouring down.

  “What was that about?” Caroline asked as he hailed them a cab. “What’s happened?”

  “A break in the case I hope,” he told her.

  “A break in the case?” She echoed his words. “Something to do with Charles?”

  He nodded as the cab pulled up before the Lyttleton home and they both stepped inside.

  “Can you tell me what’s happening?” She asked.

  “I shouldn’t,” he told her. “But I know you are discrete. A man was overheard at the park where the last victim was found. He mentioned a certain gentleman’s club by name. The steward at the club recalls a group of men who were there the day Ms. Finch was killed and one of the men was wearing a very expensive watch. The watchmaker led me here.”

  “To Charles?” She asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Charles could be the killer.” Caroline whispered.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you did say all of that led you here. To Charles.”

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe it. Charles killed Prudie? Charles killed my sister?” She looked distressed. “No.”

  “I shouldn’t have told you any of this. We need to question him. I don’t know anything until I speak to him. He may have a legitime reason for all of this.”

  “And he may not.” She countered. “If he’s the lord that Irene was writing about and seeing, then everything makes sense. And he was the father of the unborn baby and he killed Irene because she would have made it public.”

  “Caroline. I still need to talk to him. I need to see if he has any answers for any of this.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me. Who would I tell anyways? My grandmother has been feeling unwell lately and my father is at university most of the time.”

  “I’m sorry I burdened you. You shouldn’t be involved in this.”

  “You didn’t burden me, Val, and I am involved.”

  He smiled at his name on her lips. “All of the families deserve justice. I will give you that. I swear I will.”

  ✽✽✽

  Once Val had made certain Caroline was safe inside her house, he met up with Felix outside Pratt’s. But though Felix had been inside the club and spoken to the steward, Charles was not there.

  “So, he’s not home and not at the club, where would he have gone?” Felix asked puzzled.

  Val looked outside and then smiled. He knocked twice on the cab’s roof and placed his pipe inside his jacket.

  ✽✽✽

  The streets were covered with water and the rain poured from the sky as the cab made its way to the opium den. Val had no reason to expect that Charles Lyttleton would be there. He knew the den figured into the puzzle of the murders. Odean Barton had last been seen inside the opium den, it was owned by a mysterious group and the primrose left behind was a taunt to Val himself.

  He wanted to be inside the old building once more and see if anything came to him. He and Felix went through the small alley and gained entrance once more through the small door that gave way fairly easily when pressed upon. The large glass windows set high above, more than ten feet from the floor, gave little light into the rooms.

  Slowly, Val’s eyes adjusted to the rooms and he looked about himself where polite Victorian society had come to give coin to have their pipes filled with opium. Opium seemed to be like a serpent making its way into everyone’s lives and stealing their coins and their minds.

  Even Odean Barton’s miracle tonic had been nothing but alcohol and opium meant to dull and deaden the senses. He stumbled upon a makeshift camp with newspapers, empty cans of food and a few blankets. Some vagrant was using the building as a home and he very much doubted it was Charles Lyttleton.

  Charles could take his family’s money and go anywhe
re on the continent and sleep in fine hotels and cotton sheets, never mind this gypsy camp in an opium den. Besides, unless his mother or the club was hiding him, Charles wasn’t even aware that the Inspector needed to speak to him.

  He crossed into another dark room looking high up into the ceiling. This case wasn’t just puzzling. It was odd. He felt as if he was being moved about like a chess piece on a polished wood set. Always something or someone seemed to be out of reach. Always he felt like he was being deliberately played in a way so that the real issues would not be seen.

  It was frustrating and the more time he spent following these false leads, the more it made him look incompetent. He already knew that Superintendent Osgood was looking for any excuse to take him off the case and that annoyed him. He hadn’t worked this hard and spent this time trying to track down the killer to be removed from the case.

  “Come, Felix. Let’s go stake out the Lyttleton House. He’s bound to show there eventually,” he told his sergeant.

  ✽✽✽

  Val gave Felix the opportunity to leave and return home to rest, but the sergeant refused. Instead they settled the hansom cab in an alleyway near the Lyttleton Manor home and waited. Val suspected they might be in for a long night, but it did not matter.

  Charles Lyttleton was in possession of a watch that had been seen at Pratt’s by the steward. The group at Pratt’s had been there the night Prudie’s body was found. He might be tied to this somehow.

  In the wee hours of the morning, Val heard the sounds of a cab coming down the street. The rain had stopped and there was no one about so the horses’ hooves seemed to echo upon the cobbled streets.

  “Look sharp,” he told Felix who was already peering about to see which direction the cab was coming.

  The two men exited the hansom cab and the driver, whom they used often, knew to sit tight and wait until they returned.

  Felix and Val watched as the carriage slowed and stopped outside the Lyttleton home. Charles staggered out of the carriage and even before he took a step, they were at his side. The carriage had begun once more and moved along the street.

  “Charles Lyttleton?” Val asked knowing it was him.

  “I’m Charles. I say, what’s this about?” He looked into their faces and already Val knew he was still quite drunk.

  “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Pierce, this is Detective Sergeant Felix. You are to come with us,” Val said coldly.

  Charles shrugged out of their grip. “Unhand me! I’m Charles Lyttleton. Don’t you know who I am? I’m not some common criminal to be manhandled.” He said indignantly.

  “I know exactly who you are,” Val said in the dark of the night.

  Charles seemed to take a step back and he glared at Val. “Pierce,” he sputtered. “You miserable—“ he began to swear at him and then stopped.

  “Come along with us,” Felix said.

  “I know what this is about,” Charles said hotly. “This is about her. You’re jealous. I asked her to marry me. You’re angry.”

  Val ignored him and signaled for the hansom cab to draw near.

  “Why don’t you save your drunk ravings for the police station?” Felix said smiling as he began to lead Charles to the waiting cab.

  Suddenly with no words, Charles broke loose from Felix and reeled back and threw a punch at Val’s face. It was an awkward punch but it connected with Val’s face.

  Felix sprang on the man and hauled him into the cab while Val took a moment to recover. When he joined the men inside the cab, Felix was smiling.

  “At least now we can hold him for maliciously inflicting grievous bodily harm upon any other person with or without any weapon,” he grinned.

  Val and Felix looked over at Charles who appeared to be sulking.

  “And if deemed guilty, that’s a misdemeanor,” Felix said as Val knocked on the roof twice to get the cab moving.

  Chapter 22

  When they entered the police station, it was like entering a graveyard. It was past two in the morning and even the cleaning lady who polished the wood and mopped the floors was nowhere to be seen.

  “In here,” Felix said placing Charles into a small room with a table and two chairs and locking the door behind him.

  Val took off his large coat and hat which were wet from the rain and placed them on the rack. Felix did the same.

  “You’ve got a right shiner there, Guvnor,” Felix took notice of the growing black eye Charles had given Val.

  “It’s the least of my worries. Why don’t you make some tea and we’ll get started.”

  Felix nodded and disappeared. When he returned with the three cups of tea, they both entered the room where Charles sat looking sullen and irritated. Felix took his cup and leaned against the wall while Val sat facing Charles.

  “Tea?” He said politely.

  “Bastard,” Charles swore under his breath.

  “Suit yourself,” Val said taking a cup in hand and sipping it.

  “You’ve no right to hold me,” He sputtered. “I was out at my club and was coming home when you two goons accosted me. I’ve done nothing.”

  Felix made it a point to meet Charles’ eyes and then looked over at Val’s face. He shook his head while Charles angrily pulled the cup of tea toward him.

  “What do you want from me?” Charles asked.

  Val smiled and retrieved the file that he always kept nearby on his desk. It contained much of the documents that he had compiled over the course of the investigation into the primrose strangler. He sat across from Charles Lyttleton and watched him carefully.

  Sometimes it was the little things that he noticed about a person that could be a telltale sign. They fidgeted with their fingers, they moved things about the table, no eye contact, too much eye contact. Charles sipped the brown tea and looked about the room.

  “Quite the place you’ve got here, Pierce,” he said sarcastically.

  “Indeed. And we get such a nice class of people in here too. Thieves, murderers, peers of the realm such as yourself. You know. Your common criminal.”

  “I demand to know why you are holding me here. Why you were hiding outside my home—“

  “We were waiting not hiding,” Felix interjected.

  “And why I was taken from my home to the police station and questioned in the middle of the night by two bobbies,” he said.

  Neither Felix nor Val attempted to correct his use of the term bobbies as they all knew he was doing it to get their goat.

  “We need to have a little chat, that’s all,” Val said smoothly.

  “I know what this is about. This is about Caroline. You’re jealous that I asked her to marry me and she might have said yes,” Charles said childishly.

  Val closed the file in front of Charles and placed his hand upon it. “Let’s get one thing clear before we begin. You’re being here as nothing to do with Miss Derry. And this will go better for you if you don’t mention her name again. Do we understand each other?”

  Charles looked at Felix lounging near the door who cocked an eyebrow at him and bit back a smile.

  “Yes,” Charles replied sullenly to Val.

  “Excellent. Now that we understand each other,” Val said as he pulled the file to him once more and opened it.

  Carefully, he placed the five black and white pictures before him. Effie Whitson, Bessie Turner, Aida Harris, Irene Derry and Prudence Finch.

  The photographs were the ones that had been taken when the body was found. Though it was a common occurrence for people to take pictures with their loved ones who were dead, Val found the five photographs disconcerting.

  There was no life in their eyes and they had been posed in a way to suggest they were sleeping and he found it disturbing. On top of that, the primrose seemed to mock the women.

  “Well?” Val asked looking down at the five photographs.

  “Well what?” Charles asked.

  “Are any of the women in the photographs known to you?”

  “Known to m
e?” Charles looked them over quickly and shook his head. “No. These women are not known to me.”

  Val noticed that Charles barely looked at the pictures before he answered. He picked up the photograph of Effie Whitson and showed it to Charles.

  “This is Effie Whitson. Her father owns a small bank. You can’t tell from the photograph but Effie had yellow hair the color of straw,” Val said placing the picture once more before Charles but he barely glanced at it.

  “I’ve never seen that woman before,” he said averting his eyes.

  The rain dropped against the glass window and Val watched Charles carefully.

  “This is Bessie Turner. I was told by her friends that she was very sweet but a little too trusting. That probably was the death of her. Her father owns several grocery stores. Does she look familiar Charles?” Val pressed him.

  “No.” He said meeting Val’s eyes.

  “Then there’s Aida Harris. She had dark hair,” Val looked at the picture and remembered kissing her the last time he had seen her.

  “I don’t know her either. I’ve never seen her,” Charles said wrapped his hand around the tea mug. “I’ve never seen any of them.”

  “Perhaps this next woman you might know.”

  He placed the picture of Irene before him and watched his face closely.

  “There- there is something familiar about her,” Charles admitted but then shook his head. “I mean, I could have seen her on the street or out and about.”

  “This is Irene Derry,” Val said softly. “She was strangled and left in Hyde Park.”

  “Irene Derry.” Charles repeated the name.

  “Yes.”

  “Caroline’s sister.”

  Val nodded.

  “Well that’s it then. I must have seen her at some ball or party. You know yourself my mother takes a special interest in Caroline’s pet projects. So, I must have seen Irene Derry at one of these events.” He took the mug and gulped it down.

  “That’s possible.”