The Dandy Boys Mysteries (Vengeance Book 0)

by Peter J. Wacks

  This last was directed to the crowd, which had begun to grow now that Weyland and the Fellows stood beside the hawker. “When this feature is combined with that of mono-polar recognition, a gentleman—not unlike yourself—might always know the direction of travel. Now tell, sir, what do you suppose that a device of this versatility and quality might go for? Five shillings? Four shillings? Certainly not, for truly, sir, I say truly, we are bestowing upon you this very day the fair—but not fair to us—price of a mere two shillings! Now does this not strike your fancy, sir, is this not a generous offer?”

  Stoically, Weyland responded in a clear and decisive tone, “My name is Dominic William Weyland. Yes, that Weyland. I am not intrigued by your novelty trinkets.” With that, he distinctly turned and walked away from the scene.

  The Fellows could hear the hawker call out to crowd as they departed. He began by proclaiming the superiority of Weyland engineering, but soon turned the crowd in his favor by playing to the ideal of the common man, and arguing that Wilson and Dixon produce quality as high as any other—although he was not so foolhardy as to state names—but that they engineer to the needs of the everyman, such that they did not specialize in the pursuits of the wealthy. It was on this tone that the group, at last, moved beyond the range of the hawker’s voice.

  Niles cleared his throat. “The man was smart enough not to make a direct claim in comparison to your products, Dominic. He has been educated enough to know how to present the appearance of a claim without committing to a legally binding statement. Even a common huckster seems to have a glimmering knowledge of the law these days. What a sad state of affairs.”

  The observation was left unanswered as the Fellows walked through the canning district en route to a terminal, whereupon they aimed to gain passage across the water by means of a water taxi. To this end, they boarded the Seascome Ferry, with a scheduled landing upon the eastern shore of Birkenhead.

  The ferry itself was a hybrid of new and old. It combined an auxiliary steam engine with the more traditional use of manual labor. The warmth of the coal fire was tangible if one stood near the boiler, but the gentlemen, instead, sought to position themselves such as to avoid the small, but foul-smelling, tendrils of smoke which wafted down from the smoke stack. Even this small amount of smoke brought with it an acrid stench and irritated the eyes of some of the passengers. For this reason, one of the crew made apologies to the riders, stating simply that the winds were unfair, and that the issue would resolve once the vessel was properly under steam. To the credit of the crew, the man was correct, for as soon as the vessel had shoved off, the skipper had placed the vessel under full steam, and despite that the volume of black which escaped the mouth of the stack was noticeably greater, none of it came upon those on deck.

  And so it was, that in short order, the Fellowship of Adventurer Scholars came ashore on Birkenhead, whereupon they made straight for the Leasowe Sand Hills and their intended point of vantage. Upon disembarking from the ferry, the Fellows acquired the services of a hansom. Having spent the last several days in a saddle, the majority of the gentlemen—Niles being the exception on account of his experience and skill as an equestrian—were thankful for the opportunity to ride upon a cushioned seat, and they relished the experience accordingly. From their point of origin, the hansom passed through Laremont and made quick time before coming to rest in front of Sandfield Hall. It was then that Niles gave the driver a healthy sum that he should await their return, and the Fellows, collecting themselves against the chill wind, took by foot to the dunes nearby.

  Entry Nine

  After some small amount of time, and a large degree of labor, the gentlemen came to a point from which the lighthouse was clearly visible, and upon which they could survey a sizable portion of the hills upon which they stood. From this vantage, they gazed upon the Black Rock Lighthouse. The tide was high, and the waters had come upon the base of the towering structure, leaving it to stand as a solitary and singular spire amid the crashing white waves. Lacking the fishy rawness of the piers, the bright odor of ocean spray served to refresh them as they took in the sight.

  “And so it is that we find ourselves at this place,” said Rufus as he removed his hat. He then absently worked the brim with his hand as he surveyed the area before replacing it atop his head. The same wind that brought the waves against the lighthouse with such violence whipped upward as it flowed in from the water and struck against the hills upon which the Fellows stood. “If the prophecy which the Magi delivered to me is to be believed, then we shall find our distressed damsel along this shore.”

  “How long do you suppose we ought to wait?” inquired Wilson. “I should think that there is a limit to the amount of time and effort we should be willing to commit to such things.”

  “Quite right,” said Niles. “However, I would presume that our interests, not to mention our efforts thus far, would allow for more than a mere momentary reflection before warranting dissatisfaction for an inefficient usage of time. We have spent half of the afternoon on this venture thus far, most of which was occupied by acquiring transport across the waters. And I dare say that considerably more time was spent verifying the accuracy of our direction than we have spent atop this hill. If you wish to express discontent and mismanaged time, then I would urge you to remember this point first. Frankly, my boy, I do not see the advantage of pursuing such queries when one could have simply stood upon the shore closest the Black Rock, and surveyed the area for a hill.”

  Wilson shook his head, a bemused smile on his lips. “I am continually impressed by your ability to turn a matter in your favor. I do not share your aversion to showing ignorance, especially with regards to such matters as local topography. In addition to which are the other factors which needed to be considered. It is not appropriate to focus on a single aspect of the prophecy and pronounce that our current location is the only point which concurs. There was more to the conditions than this one component, and it is only by setting aside our humility that we were able to find a point in which all aspects were collated.”

  “Yes, yes, humility, vice and virtue.” Niles pulled a pipe from his pocket and began tamping down his tobacco. “You bore me, my dear boy, you bore me. Do not bother responding, for we haven’t the time. If I am not mistaken, that young woman may be the object of our endeavor. What was it that they said, Rufus? ‘The maiden of birds will be flocked by the crows. By rebuffing this truth you will know.’”

  Rufus eyed the hill and nodded. He was lost deep in his own thoughts, and though Niles was interrupting, the other three of the Fellowship left him to his devices.

  With the stem of his pipe, Niles pointed to a young lady not far distant. “I may be mistaken, but does that young woman not have a bird affixed to her hat? Of course not, for I am rarely mistaken and as we can all see, she does in fact have a replica bird placed upon her hat.”

  “Perhaps a bit convenient would you not agree?” inquired Weyland. “We have stood here for but a few minutes. What are the odds that coincidence would favor us so?”

  In the silence that followed, Niles lit his pipe and smugly enjoyed a few puffs, as Rufus wrinkled his nose, to which Niles replied, “My dear Wilson, when will you learn that any certainty which I have regarding my own abilities is not arrogance, but that it is in fact what you might call the truest virtue—that is, the proper evaluation and recognition of a given subjects capabilities. Do not bother arguing, my dear boy; anything which you say at this juncture will only serve as fodder for my next retort. Let us focus our attention instead upon the young lady. What do you suppose the Magi meant by ‘rebuffing the crows’?”

  “Perhaps,” Weyland said slowly, “it was meant to refer to those black garbed ruffians who are approaching her as we speak. They do not appear to be incredibly pleasant, perhaps … oh dear! Did you see the way that he grabbed her? Niles! Where are you going, man? Come back here!”

  But his efforts were to no avail, for as he spoke, the young Byron was then displaying
his physical prowess as he moved quickly and agilely over and across the sandy hill tops, his pipe clamped firmly between his lips.

  Nonplussed, Wilson glanced about at his Fellows. “There is nothing for it now but to observe, unless any of you wish to join him? No, I thought not. Well then, let us compose ourselves and approach this matter in a manner more befitting our stations.”

  Rufus, still unsettled over the prophecy, shrugged. “Let us, then. Though perhaps with a slight spring to our steps. Remember, Niles’ regimen is not as regular as it ought to be, and I fear for the two ruffians he is about to accost.”

  With that, the four remaining gentleman walked calmly—if with a slight step of urgency—toward an affair which was then unfolding in a most decisive manner. The two men whom had been harassing the young woman were caught slightly unaware by the gentleman who had presently charged into their midst.

  Entry Ten

  With little preamble, Niles Byron placed himself between the two men and the young woman. He was in a clearly defensive posture as he had adopted—with the lower portion of his body—a pugilist’s stance. The two ruffians failed to respond in the most sapient of fashions, and had even assumed an aggressive demeanor against the English gentleman. Niles, clearly at the limits of his patience, lifted his left hand, not in a fist but in a cautionary and warning gesture. The ruffians did not heed the warning, however, and responded with harsh words.

  It was in short order then that Niles delivered upon the smaller of the two louts a rear lead followed by a rounding blow. This had the definitive effect of placing the young man upon the ground, with blood gushing from a savagely split lip. As the smaller man fell backward, the larger of the two closed the distance in an attempt to take the advantage of an opening he had perceived in Niles’ stance. He was, however, quickly aware of his error as Niles defended with an elbow guard, which not only protected him from the attack but succeeded in pulling the larger man off balance. Niles then gave the return. The blow caught the ruffian completely unaware.

  This resulted in the second man falling backward while grasping at his face in an attempt to give some comfort to his newly broken nose. He then began to crawl away with one hand while holding his face with the other. The first of the two men had risen to his feet and was, at that time, waving his arms in surrender as he cautiously stepped to his friend and ally. He then helped the larger ruffian to his feet, after which the pair quickly departed the area.

  All of this occurred in mere seconds, and the two louts were well on their way when the four gentlemen joined their Fellow, who was then speaking with the young woman.

  “Thank you, sir, for your assistance,” said she. “I am indeed well. Your concern for my safety is very much appreciated.”

  “I am pleased, madam, and more pleased to make your acquaintance. Niles Byron, at your service.” He made a short bow, adding a small flourish.

  “Patricia Kelly, sir.” She made a brief curtsy and then started. “Byron you said? As in …?”

  “Yes indeed, as in my esteemed father, Lord George Gordon Byron, with whom you are clearly familiar.”

  “Indeed. His work is … passionate,” Miss Kelly said as she drew a fan from her belt and twirled it in her left hand. “It is certainly an honor and a pleasure.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” said Niles, his voice low and his eyes keen.

  Rufus cleared his throat, his eyes on the woman’s fan; certainly Niles was not so oblivious as to miss the woman’s obvious warning?

  “Ah,” Niles said, turning to his companions, “allow me to introduce my colleagues. While they are slower to respond, they are no less chivalrous than I. This is Dominic Weyland, William Wilson, Rufus Emmerson, and Friedrich Von Helsing.”

  Miss Kelly curtsied to each Fellow in turn, her eyes shyly downturned but her face shining with excitement. “This is certainly an eventful day. I would not have thought to have met such prestigious and chivalrous gentlemen as you.”

  “I imagine,” Wilson said, “that you also would not have expected to be assailed by ruffians.”

  “I would say not, sir.”

  Wilson hesitated, then spoke again, choosing his words with apparent care. “I know that it is not my place to say, and I apologize in advance for my impertinence, but should you not have an escort?”

  “Indeed I should.” She shook her head, sincere regret painted on her innocent features. “You are correct, sir. I had thought to enjoy the fresh sea air briefly. I had believed, incorrectly, that I could do so without rousing concern. I shall return home immediately.”

  Niles stepped forward, offering his arm. “Would you care for an escort?”

  She took it, delicately. “I shall be well once I acquire a hansom, but if you insist, then I would gladly accept your services until then.”

  Weyland also stepped forward, placing himself on the young lady’s unoccupied side, as it were. “Then this is a fortuitous occasion, for we have in our employ a hansom, which is awaiting our return as we speak. We will, without question or hesitation, surrender the use of it to you, Miss Kelly.” He bowed, deeply, which elicited a shy nod of the head from the young woman and a flicker of a scowl from Niles.

  The young woman then thanked the gentlemen once more, and the six departed the hills. Upon arriving at the hansom, Niles gave the driver fair coin and instructed him to see the lady to the safety of her residence before returning for them.

  The five gentlemen waited in silence, each warily eyeing the hills, for the better part of an hour till the hansom returned, then rode within it to the docks and took the ferry once more to Liverpool proper. It was a short time later that the group of scholars sat around a table enjoying the benefits of afternoon tea.

  It was here, with the warmth of quality Assam and the satisfaction of sustenance, that the scholars discussed the events of the day. There was no doubting that the Magi’s words had been prophetic. The debate was more concerned with the means behind the accuracy of the prophecy. None of the Fellows were prepared to suggest that the Magi had acquired this knowledge preternaturally, but neither were they prepared to suggest that the young woman whom they had met was a party to conspiracy. Further, why had she signaled that they were being watched—and more importantly, to whom did she intend the warning?

  Perhaps, Friedrich suggested, the men had been contacted by the Magi and instructed to act such as to confirm their words. While this hypothesis explained the presence of the men, it did not explain how the magi could have foreseen what Miss Kelly would be wearing, at least not without her participation, and none had thought to ask if the hat which she wore had been recently acquired.

  However, none of this addressed the pressing question of the timeliness and organization which would have been required to orchestrate this misleading encounter. Even if the parties were waiting with advanced instructions, and even if Miss Kelly were a party to the affair, then little time would have existed for the actors to receive instructions regarding the identity of the Fellows. Debate over the affair was minimal, however, for while the gentlemen did not wish to voice the possibility aloud, it was clear to all that Miss Kelly must have been party to the deception.

  Entry Eleven

  Later in the evening, the majority of the Fellows had taken to the public room of the inn for some lighthearted levity, but Dominic did not join them. Instead, he sat within his room in silent contemplation. Here, he drew upon his pipe as he did upon his thoughts, slowly and deeply. The hot peppery smoke swirled over his tongue, the bite of it softened with a hint of mint. The exhale was both ecstatic and artistic, but not so in the way of the efforts of Man. This was natural. It was pure. The whole matter was rhythmic and effortless, akin to the ebbing of the sea; it was a self-evident expression of an identity that transcended definition, yet permeated the man. In and out, like the flowing of the tides, like the blowing of the wind. He was cosmos. He was the Form of all Forms.

  It was in this state of euphoric, selfless awareness that he briefly,
and distantly, considered the merits of Gnosticism. He was the Platonic Philosopher; he saw the shadows for what they were, distorted projections which were at once facsimiles of an original form, and at the same time metaphoric representations of the subject’s deepest desires. He saw this world of steam and machine as the Clockmaker must. Each gear in place for a specific effect, each cog a component of a greater whole. The pieces fitting together in intricate assembly; connection upon connection, each one a derivative and each one inventive. Connection upon connection, juncture upon juncture; the vast assembly of the cosmos stood before, and though he perceived it, and although he comprehended it, he did so only in that he comprehended in the incomprehensible nature of the grand design, for even as he could see the components individually, ‘the whole is greater than the sum of its parts,’ and this sum was beyond any mortal perception.

  Knowing what he could not know, perceiving that there was much which was imperceptible, Dominic Weyland began to deconstruct what had been set before him. He saw the girl and the ‘crows.’ He saw the voyage across the water and the route which had been taken. He saw the deviations and the misdirections, the confusion and the wandering. He saw before him the shop of the Magi. He saw the darkness, and he smelt the incense. He traced the derivatives to their oracular origins and felt the touch of the carnival clown.

  He sat in his room alone with these thoughts, and he loaded pipe after pipe as he ruminated on the data.

  When his friends and Fellows, Friedrich Von Helsing and Rufus Emerson, knocked upon the door, they discovered the young Master Weyland toying with the lamp on the side table; both raising and lowering the flame as he made gestures with his hands.

  “The others are curious if you wish to join us for an evening drink,” said Friedrich to his fellow philosopher.