White Lady

by Nix Whittaker

  Chapter Five

  A basket sat on the step and Everett slowed his steps when he approached his shop. He glanced around to see if there was anyone about. The streets remained empty. It was early as he liked to work while the streets were quiet. Later he would have clients visiting and he hated to be interrupted when he was starting a new project.

  The basket couldn’t have been there for long, despite the decent street it wasn’t clear of all criminal types or just children who would take advantage of an unattended basket. Using his cane, he gave the basket a judicious knock. There was something heavy inside as it didn’t budge much at his nudge.

  He peeled back the kerchief set on top with the tip of the cane and recoiled at what he discovered. He had seen limbs before detached from their rightful place but usually, that was because he had been assisting in the amputation. His career mostly dealt with the limbs long past the gruesome stage.

  Recovering, he leaned over to have a closer look. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand as the stench wrinkled the insides of his nose hairs. Bile rose in his throat and he had to look away to retain his breakfast. Once his stomach settled, he took another gander.

  There was no blood in the basket so however the limb had gotten into the basket it hadn’t been in the heat of the moment of amputation or possibly it was after the victim had died. Using his cane, he determined that it was the left hand. Sinister indeed.

  Awkwardly he placed the cover back over the basket. He had containers inside that would better deal with the odour and he would need to do that in order to get it to the Scotland Yard. No matter how the limb had arrived on his doorstep he doubted it was innocent.

  ___

  Everett tightened his hold on the ceramic container. It wasn’t ideal for keeping in the smell but unfortunately, it was the only thing he had that could fit the limb and came with a lid. He had switched the long metal pins that had been in the container into a tray. Picking up his steps he kept the lid in place, at least he would soon be divested of the pungent item.

  Victor approached Scotland Yard as Everett mounted the steps outside. Holding the door open for Everett he said, “I know humans are not keen on bathing but I thought your family were a little more enlightened.”

  Everett motioned to the container with a wiggle of his elbow and said, “It isn’t me. I’ve got something for my sister.”

  “I’m sure she won’t appreciate what you have there.” Everett eyed Victor. As a dragon, he would surely know exactly what he had in the container.

  “Are you sure?”

  Victor wrinkled his nose. “Okay, maybe the mystery but not the smell.”

  Victor let the door close behind them and said, “Bring it up to my lab first. I’ll put it into something more likely to keep its odiferous nature from permeating the whole Yard.”

  People wrinkled their noses as he passed. Outside the breeze had dispelled the rotting flesh smell or maybe it was because these people were familiar with it that they all watched Everett as he followed Victor up to the stairs to his lab.

  A brutish peeler stepped into the corridor. He frowned at the two of them. Victor smiled and the man’s demeanour softened. “You must be Everett.”

  Victor threw his arm over Everett’s shoulders and he had to juggle to keep the dismembered limb in its container. A wave of smell engulfed them and he couldn’t help screwing up his face. Victor seemed oblivious as he said, “Yes, this is my brother-in-law.”

  This must be his sister’s partner. He had left for the continent before he could meet any of Rayne’s work colleagues. Though he knew of him from his letters exchanged with his sister. Larkin’s face went blank as he said, “Announcing as many times as possible your connection to the Lady isn’t going to change people’s minds around here.”

  Victor said, “I disagree. Familiarity will breed fondness.”

  Larkin shrugged. Rayne bumped into Larkin’s back and pushed past him. “What is with the standing around? Oh, Everett. What do you have there?”

  She wrinkled her nose so clearly, the smell had moved out of his proximity. “A mystery.”

  Victor patted Everett’s back before he removed his arm. “I’m about to put it into something better. Come along Everett it looks like your sister is a tad busy.”

  Rayne frowned. “I’d look into it but we have a new case. A missing girl. It’s time-sensitive but I swear I’ll get to your case once we’re done.” He waved away his sister’s excuse. He knew when he had come there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to help him.

  “Go. Save that girl.”

  His sister winced. “I’ll try.”

  Everett frowned. He hadn’t meant to put more pressure on her. She didn’t have an easy job. He knew it was literally life and death. That would keep most people awake at night but Rayne had always been driven to help others.

  Even he had been infected by her drive because despite the terrible conditions she still seemed happy. He hoped he could find his own peace by helping people. Stepping aside he let Rayne and Larkin pass. Rayne reached out to squeeze Victor’s hand before she left.

  Now alone with Victor in the corridor, he asked, “Something smell-proof?”

  Victor chuckled. “Right this way.”

  Others in the corridor backpedalled out of the way of the smell as they made their way. Victor only laughed and said, “The Collectors would have a field day with these guys. Weak stomachs.”

  Everett decided not to reveal he had lost his own meal when he had transferred the hand from the basket to the container. He also wondered if the dragon had the same smelling abilities as a human or some trick to shunt it away from his nose. Everett wouldn’t be surprised if the dragon was just all bravado.

  He knew this was true when Victor passed him a mask and donned one himself so they could relocate the body part to a more air-tight container. Victor also had a fan that sucked the air out of the roof with a rattling drone. Most likely to deal with any miasma that came off dangerous evidence.

  Everett eyed the fan in the wall and said, “I can make you one that is quieter.” His mask muffled his words. Victor used some metal tools to make the transfer. Lifting the hand with some skill he dropped it onto a tray.

  He finished moving the hand before he answered, “I’d be grateful for that. I’m more a chemical man than a gadget man.”

  Everett frowned. He had always assumed dragons were technologically advanced compared to humans. He had never pondered that they might have specialisations. Playing with chemicals and cutting up bodies was certainly a hobby he had never heard of any other dragon taking up and he had been on the continent where there were more dragons.

  Known for their ability to manipulate matter, dragons used it to travel from their home planet to Earth. The logistics of it all was beyond Everett though Katherine had tried to explain it to him once. That science alone was beyond his own comprehension.

  With the mask on Everett braved the hand as Victor laid it out on a tray to examine. He hoped the rotting juices didn’t seep into the wood if the tray tipped. He had never noticed strong smells in Victor’s lab and glanced back at the fan. Maybe something stronger would be valued with overly smelly victims or evidence. He doubted the Yard discovered all bodies in a timely manner so there had to be some victims that came across Victor’s table that would be in a state of rot.

  “So do you think it is murder?” Everett asked the question he really wanted answered when he had found the hand on his doorstep.

  Victor tilted the hand up with weirdly shaped tongs and said, “I have no idea without the rest of the body.”

  “Dragons are supposed to be magical.”

  Victor snorted. Everett knew dragons weren’t magic but most humans thought the abilities of dragons to shape-shift and keep things in another dimension was indeed magic. Victor’s abilities in chemistry were even more basic than most dragons who mostly dealt with science at the tiniest levels.

  Victor put the hand down and tapped the seve
red end with the tip of the tongs. “It might be a murder victim or it might not. It looks like whoever took off the limb used medical tools. So at least they knew what they were doing. There is a scar here.” He used the tool to point to a knotted piece of flesh. It was hard to see as the skin had bloated.

  Everett frowned. He had thought someone was reaching out to him to help solve a murder and it could just be a lost limb through medical intervention. He should have thought of that when it had been left on his doorstep. But there was still the chance it was a murder victim and that chance though slim was true he would see if he could find them.

  “You think Rayne will be able to follow it up?” Victor glanced towards the doorway to where Rayne had rushed off with Larkin. He didn’t answer but he didn’t need to. If Rayne’s boss was going to make her prove herself all over again, she would be too busy to see to a missing limb case when she had to chase down real live people.

  “You could always try the hospitals. See if anyone is missing a hand from a patient. At the very least you should find out if you are looking for a live person or a dead one.”

  Everett would feel terrible if he had a clue to a murder and had done nothing. With his sister too busy he would follow it up himself. He knew the others at the Yard would brush him off. Youth had its downsides and as he was barely out of school, he didn’t think the grizzled men would welcome him dropping a rotting hand on their desk. They might even accuse him of getting a client to drop off the hand just so he could stir up trouble.

  ___

  Medea pressed herself into the shadows. She knew just how many shadows she needed to hide her pale form. The street smelled like human waste and it had her breathing shallowly. This was only temporary as she had to make sure the witch doctor wasn’t following her and sometimes that meant moving through areas that were repugnant.

  She wasn’t even sure how he had found her in the first place and she wondered if he has some special powers to be able to see her movements even when he wasn’t in the city. Maybe it was some spirit ancestor that guided his steps.

  She wished one of her own ancestors would step in to protect her. Unfortunately, she didn’t think her ancestors had time for her. There were too many of her people in need of some intervention for her problems to warrant any special attention. She shifted out of her hiding spot and moved into the next alleyway.

  She went still when she heard a noise and tucked herself behind a barrel. A large man with a leather trench coat, one she mostly saw in the New World, dragged a small girl with pale blonde hair. She was dressed in a pale blue dress that was too good for this area of town. With wide eyes, she looked petrified.

  Medea stood before she had any thought. The man turned her way and sneered. “Ain’t it my lucky day. Two birds. And one right by the door of where I have to deliver the other.”

  Medea glanced up at the building. White-washed walls more grey than white from smoke and wear. She could barely make out the oak beams in the older building. The windows were lit even though it was early in the morning. Laughter from women and the grunts of men had Medea wrinkling her nose. There was no way she would allow this man to sell that girl to a brothel.

  The man’s eyes took her in and rested on her crutch. “Easy.”

  Hopefully her disability would fool him. She moved closer, her free hand slipping into her pocket. The man shoved the girl behind a barrel and growled for her to stay put. The girl crouched into a ball, tucking her head down between her legs. At least she wouldn’t see what was about to happen. The girl had already been through enough this night. Assured the girl wouldn’t run he turned his focus on her. He flicked his coat out and she wondered if he carried a gun. They banned handguns in the city, only police and nobility could get permits. Something to do with dragons and the prevalence of duels in the last decade that had forced the government’s hand. But this man didn’t look like a law-abiding citizen so the gun was not out of the question.

  She moved towards him. Closer, he would most likely try to subdue her instead of using the gun if he had one. Even if he didn’t care about the laws, he wouldn’t be keen to whip out his gun. She was also banking on him not wanting to put any bullet holes in her. It would reduce the price he could get for her. He would never have underestimated her if she were a man.

  She narrowed her eyes as she took in the alleyway. Light from the entertaining women above bathed the alley walls with lopsided squares. Pallets and other detritus were shoved up on one wall. Easy for someone to stumble in if they didn’t pay attention. There were no people about who would see them though she could hear some men singing a bawdy tune on another street.

  A window opened above as sound and light floated down to them. The man ignored it and a smile touched her lips. “I’m not going to be an easy payday,” she warned the man.

  “What are you going to do? Beat me with your crutch?” He’d be so lucky. He took a step forward just as the woman above emptied out a bucket of who knew what. The smell certainly gave her some idea. Obviously, they had already filled their sewer pit in the basement if they were throwing that out the window. The man stumbled backwards and swore as he wiped his face. Flicking off liquid from the tips of his fingers.

  She took the opportunity of his distraction to close the space. With her free hand, she shoved the small blade she had palmed into his side between two ribs. He grunted and shoved her away. His hand went to his side and pulled away covered in blood. He stumbled against the wall.

  Medea didn’t waste any time, in case the man recovered before she could escape, though she had aimed to pierce his lung she wasn’t sure the blade had been long enough to do the damage she wanted. She leant over to the girl and motioned for her to follow. The girl reached out and caught her hand. Medea shuffled awkwardly as the girl attempted to merge herself with Medea’s legs. She swung the crutch out and hopped along onto the more populated streets.

  The man groaned so Medea shuffled quicker. Placing her hand on the girl’s head to give her some assurance, the girl’s grasp transferred to Medea’s skirts.

  The door opened at the back of the alley and a woman stepped out. She yelled, “Hey, come back here.”

  Ignoring the woman, Medea left the alleyway and made her way out of the neighbourhood as fast as she could.

  Chapter Six

  Navigating the hospitals was tiresome. Especially as Everett couldn’t abandon his shop to spend days hitting each of the local hospitals. Instead, he had to make time at his lunch break and seek out at least one helpful person in one hospital at a time. St Andrews didn’t have a helpful person so he had wandered around for over an hour.

  He was about to give up on finding anyone who could help him when he walked into a teaching lecture room. Several doctors leaned over to watch the doctor working in a sunken room. Dark wood panelling lined the walls and would be good at hiding bloodstains. The floor was covered in sawdust that was clumped and dark with the evidence of a long autopsy.

  The doctor droned as he pointed out different elements inside the body. He knew if Katherine were here, she would have a comment or two. Because of her gender and age, they had never allowed her to attend one of these teaching classes.

  It surprised Everett to see the assistant was a woman. Silver peppered her hair and blood-splattered her apron. When she stepped aside to move the innards of the man on the table to a tray, he could see the doctor that was droning on.

  He also had silver in his hair but very few wrinkles and his hands moved like that of a younger man. His voice was clear as he spoke to his students, though his tone was bored. He had probably given this particular lecture a hundred times.

  Everett had seen a dissection before. He’d even been dragooned into being the assistant a few times by one of the doctors he had studied with on the continent. He could tell that this one was almost done. Waiting, he leaned on the railing along with the other students.

  When the students finally dissipated Everett called down, “Doctor a moment of your time.
”

  The doctor glanced up and frowned up at him. “You aren’t one of my students.”

  “No, I make prosthetics. I have a question for you.” He made his way to the gate that led to a short set of stairs so he was on the same level as the doctor.

  “Prosthetics? What would you need a doctor for?” Everett had actually needed a lot of study with doctors so the aggravated tone was unwarranted. It was an attitude Everett was familiar with though. When he had been working with the saw doctors, they had cared more about keeping people alive rather than the quality of life that person might have afterwards. Everett had often argued for something in the middle where a saved joint could make all the difference when it came to mobility. He’d even been kicked out of a medical tent for his arguments. In that particular case, there had been other medical tents to work in so he had merely moved on to work with someone else.

  Everett ignored the doctor’s tone and asked, “Has there been a hand amputated recently? Say two or three weeks ago?” He made the guess at the age of the limb mostly based on its odours nature.

  The doctor frowned but said, “Why do you ask?”

  Considering all the others he had asked all answered ‘no’ quickly he knew he had found the right place. Amputations weren’t nearly as common in the city when there weren’t cannons to wreak havoc. “Well, someone left a hand on my doorstep. Not in the best condition.”

  “I doubt it would have been. We don’t use any preserving here. How did it end up on your doorstep? Were they being ironic?”

  Everett hadn’t even thought about his career choice being the motivation for the limb being left at his doorstep. The doctor motioned to his female assistant without waiting for Everett to answer him. “Honey, who deals with the waste?”

  The woman had already cleaned up a bit and was no longer wearing her apron. She pushed back some of her wispy grey hair as she answered, “The hospital has a contract with the Collectors. They work with the Scotland Yard, so very proper.” Indeed.