by J M Bannon
“She assisted in apprehending the murderer and helped to protect me and Officer Burton. Rose is not a fanatic. She is a woman of faith but has found a different way to practice her beliefs,” explained Dolly with admiration.
The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair. “Is there anything else you would like to add, Detective Williamson?”
Dolly thought for a moment. Should I mention that Angelica might still be alive if he hadn't given Gerard and his companions the time? Or that Detective Keane was enthralled by Angelica, nearly killed me and I only escaped because Keane killed himself?
“No, sir. I am prepared for whatever your decision might be,” expressed Dolly.
“Decision? I’m not following you, Detective,” Derby queried.
“The matter of me shooting a foreign diplomat and disciplinary action.”
“What gave you that impression?” asked Walpole.
Dolly looked to Mayne. “I assumed that was the purpose of the meeting.”
“Detective Williamson, I envy you that you have had the pleasure of shooting a Frenchman, particularly one of those grim-faced death worshipers. You showed restraint trying to just wing him," praised the Prime Minister.
All the men chuckled but Dolly.
"As far as the diplomatic impact, the French position is that if the Crown saw fit to drop charges against Guild Master Saint-Yves, they would consider Seer Thomas as a casualty in the apprehension of a murderess fugitive. I have settled the matter with Anou,” the PM continued.
Walpole interjected. “Detective, the Prime Minister agrees that these home-grown occultists such as Oswald and his Lodge, the witch from the colonies or the necronists from the continent all have ill will for the Crown. It is our government’s duty to put in safeguards.
“Detective, can I please see your journal?” the PM asked.
Dolly handed the leather-bound book to the Prime Minister.
The Earl of Derby set it on the table between Dolly and himself. He leaned into Dolly. “Williamson, how does a man fall asleep at night knowing these types of dangers walk the streets of London? I for one have enough keeping me up,” Derby inquired as he tapped his index finger on the journal.
Walpole continued. “Fredrick, we are in the nineteenth century now, and every day we learn more about how to bend the laws of physics and metaphysics to our will. You have been to the coal face and seen what those of mal intent are prepared to do with this knowledge. I want you to form a division of the Metropolitan Police Detective Branch to deal with those who practice the dark arts and choose evil ways.”
“Ministers, are you authorizing Detective Williamson to lead a special branch?” questioned Commissioner Mayne. Clearly, Mayne had no idea what these two men were planning.
“I am. Detective Williamson would lead a branch of occult detection and prevention to protect our country against internal and external supernatural threats,” concluded the PM.
Dolly could not believe what he was hearing. “How serious are you about this, Prime Minister?”
“Quite. This business with the Haitian and the explosion over at the gaswerks has drawn suspicion that our enemies and the weapons they are prepared to use against us are not the conventional weapons of war. We need to have some domestic defense that is also unconventional.”
Dolly knew the test to determine the commitment they were prepared to make.
“Prime Minister, I will accept the position if Rose Caldwell can become a constable of the Metropolitan Police force.”
22
Friday, the 2nd of July
11:20 AM, Rose Caldwell’s Rooms
Sister Rose wrote in her journal all the details she recalled from her out-of-body experience. The sounds, smells, the words Angelica spoke, everything she could remember, including the incantation used in the Pwen Hanan.
There was a knock at the door. Rose was not expecting a visitor. She closed the journal and placed it into a lockbox in the bottom drawer of her writing desk.
She peered through a view port she had installed in the door. It was Dolly.
Rose unlatched the locks on the door and let her friend in. He looked sour.
"What has got you in these parts? Looking for new rooms?" chided Rose.
“Could be. I had a meeting two days ago with the Home Secretary and the Prime Minister.”
“What about?” said Rose as she locked the door and walked past Dolly. “Tea?”
“No, thanks. I had to explain how my murder investigation literally turned into a witch hunt and why I found myself shooting French diplomats."
"Why did you shoot him?" she pressed.
"Lower rank, thicker legs,” Dolly replied.
"I must say, Dolly, it truly shocked me when that pistol fired.”
“That is what shocked you? Not the remains of Lord Oswald mixed with the plaster wall?" followed Dolly.
“You can’t imagine witnessing that scene, Dolly. It was fantastic how she used her powers.” Rose put a kettle on over an alcohol burner she had for heating.
"You seem a bit taken by the sorceress,” he suggested.
Rose paused, teething her lip. Do I share with him what I was shown, how much I now know of her? "We had a connection. I do not think she is all bad."
“I understand she was swindled out of her inheritance, but there is a better way to acquire justice. You murder people, the police come looking. Turning Keane on me was more than I could take.”
“Her father waited until he died to legitimize her birthright. Her brothers sold her off to a plantation as a slave,” Rose retorted.
“I didn’t come here to argue the fine points of why a murderess was given the hard knocks of life. If being hard done by is a just cause, half all the convicts in England would be set free. You see, Rose, Angelica may have been alright knowing the consequences of killing her family were she would hang, and that was worth the satisfaction of getting revenge, but she never looked at the other lives lost in the process. Keane, those two guards, they didn’t disown her. They never caused her harm.” He was clenching the brim of his hat as he spoke.
“Dolly, the Scot has gotten hold of you. I’m not your enemy. I never said she was justified in her actions or even that Moya and Chilton deserved to die. I only said that she wasn’t all bad.”
“I don’t doubt that any person is all bad or all good, for that matter. Anyhow, I didn’t come here to argue about her. I came to tell you that you’re right. The incident with Keane showed me the stakes are different—higher. These people aren’t cut from the same cloth as you and I. They have power and are prepared to use it mercilessly. Du Haiti turned Keane on me, and I think if Saint-Yves could have, he and his seer would have done the same to you, Burton and me, turning us on each other like rabid dogs. Saint-Yves knew where she was hiding and didn’t tell me. He had no intention of taking her alive.”
“Dolly, I was invited to experience Angelica’s past before the seers arrived. She was peacefully employing tarot. She saw how the night would play out. Angelica left me with the feeling that perhaps it was her last night on earth,” whispered Rose.
Dolly moved into the single ratty chair Rose kept in her rooms. “Remember how we first met? Well, not the very first time, but in that cellar? I went down there with a lot of assumptions. I figured that you were helping Milton and he was some type of pedophile. I thought that all men could be brought down with the shot of a pistol.
“I came out of that cellar with less confidence in pistols and with what my eyes showed me. I am a bit more cautious in jumping to conclusions or that my allies have the same intentions I do,” he finished.
“Alright then, if you didn’t come here to rehash events, why did you come?” Rose asked as she poured the hot water over loose tea in her cup.
Dolly thought for a moment. There would be no going back, and he needed to know if this was going to work. It wasn’t but a fortnight when he was here and Rose said she wanted to learn from the murderer. “Rose, I need to know what y
ou and Angelica discussed before the necronists arrived. You were alone with her for some time, nearly a half hour. What were you two up to?”
“I may as well tell you. I need to share it with someone. She revealed to me that she killed her brother in Haiti. She channeled me there, back in time to witness the event. I was in her head, but it felt as if I was there—the smells, the sounds, the sight, her thoughts, the feelings of anguish and betrayal. This is when I sensed what was good in her and what drove her to act out and take life. The conflict of being in the home where she grew up, facing the person who sent his own blood away to the heinous scourge of slavery. I also experienced the power to damn him, and in the process, I learned what I wanted. I was brought back to that room with the full extent of her knowledge and power. Sadly, it’s from such a dark place, just thinking of it makes me feel a deep despair.”
Dolly left his chair and came closer to his friend. He pulled out the ward she had made for him. It was still attached to the end of his watch chain. Rose looked down at the amulet as Dolly encouraged her. “I trust it’s still you in there, Rose. That you can process the evil and goodness of someone like Angelica and have clarity of how the wicked was her undoing in the end.”
“I do indeed, Detective.”
“Does this thing still work, or did those blathering mystics foul it up when they tried to hex me?” asked Dolly.
Rose took the gemulet in her hand and looked at her craftsmanship. “No, the amulet is in perfect working order,” replied Rose.
“Well, then, I have something for your protection. He drew a police whistle on a chain out of his pocket.
“It only works in London, but when you blow this whistle, your fellow bobbies will come straight away.”
“Fellow bobbies?”
I told you. I had a meeting with the PM and the Home Secretary. Well, I thought for sure with the death of Seer Thomas I would be dangling in the wind on this one, but once again, I read the situation wrong. The explosion at the gaswerks and Angelica’s gruesome deeds have the government preparing a domestic defense strategy against the metaphysical. They tasked me with forming up the branch, and I agreed on the condition that you were part of it.
“If all goes as planned, you, Ms. Rose Caldwell, will be our newest constable in the Metropolitan Police Department and the second member of the special detective branch for the paranormal.”
Rose jumped up, kissed and hugged Dolly, tears of joy flowing. “Dolly, this means so much to me! You have no idea. To have what I do accepted.”
“Well, Rose, I wouldn’t go so far as to say what you do is accepted by the man on the street, but in the case of Her Majesty’s government and me, it is certainly appreciated. Even if the bloke on the street doesn’t accept you, he needs looking out.”
23
Saturday, the 3rd of July
2:20 PM, Strathmore Estate, Long Island
Randall Wells Strathmore sat in deep contemplation, gazing out the window of his study.
The boy ran in the room and embraced Randall. Randall hugged and kissed him on his brown forehead just below his dark curly hair.
The governess hovering by the door spoke when Randall looked. "I told him to wait, but he was too excited to see you."
"That is quite alright, Ms. Meadows."
He crouched down to eye level with the boy. "Gerard, I do believe you have grown two inches since I left."
"Did you bring me anything, Uncle Randall?”
"In fact, I did." He walked behind his desk and retrieved a box. Before he could bring it back, Gerard had followed him.
There was a knock at the door. “Your guest is here sir,” the footman announced.
“Lead him out to the gardens, and prepare refreshments. Gerard and I will meet him there momentarily.”
A few minutes later, Randall walked up to the lean elderly gentleman that stood looking over the gardens in admiration. He wore a white linen summer suit and held a walking stick with a wolf head for the handle.
"Dr. Caiaphas."
Dr. Caiaphas turned to Randall. The two men shook hands. What always startled Randall about Warren Caiaphas was his Alopecia. Rather it was the terrible matted wig he chose to wear to cover his complete lack of hair. Initially, one would notice that he had no eyebrows, but that old hairpiece drew one’s eyes to it quickly.
Gerard ran out onto the patio with a model airship. “Look what Uncle Randall bought me from his trip. He said he flew on one just like it back in England.”
Dr. Caiaphas smiled at the boy. “Would you like to travel on an airship one day?”
“Oh, yes.”
Randall again bent down to eye level with Gerard and then looked up at Dr. Caiaphas. “The doctor is a good friend of mine and Ms. Meadows. He has come to meet with you and ask if you would like to attend his special school.”
"But I like it here," the youth cried.
“Of course, you do, but this is a very special school that very few are admitted to, and if you want to have a house like this someday, or perhaps your own airships, you need to go to school.”
“But Ms. Meadow teaches me reading and maths,” argued Gerard.
“I am a different type of teacher. I can teach you how to do tricks. Would you like to see one?” asked Caiaphas.
“Oh, yes, please,”
“Go grab a stone from the path, and bring it here.”
The boy ran out on the garden path, searching for the perfect stone. Then after picking a few up and dropping them, he ran back to Caiaphas with the stone he selected.
Caiaphas took the stone. It was smooth, flat and grey in color. He held it out.
“Are you going to make it disappear?” asked Gerard.
“No, you are going to make it change color,” suggested Caiaphas, closing his hand around the stone.
“Gerard, clasp my hand with both of yours and hold it really tight so you know that the stone can’t get away.”
Gerard grabbed his hand, “Your hand is cold, Mister.”
“Now, Gerard, close your eyes and envision a color, only one color. I want you to think very hard and send that color right down your hands into mine. Don’t tell me the color.”
Gerard squeezed his eyes closed, as if his squeezing would pass the thoughts through to the stone faster.
Caiaphas looked and smiled at Randall as the boy concentrated. “Excellent, you can stop now.”
The doctor opened his hand. The stone was as green as the grass in the garden.
“Oh, boy, that is a cracker of a trick. Can you teach me how to do that?”
“Gerard, you did it. I only helped boost your innate powers,” the Doctor explained.
The young boy looked confused.
“Here, you keep the stone. When fall begins, you can come to my school and I will personally instruct you how to do that and many more things you can’t learn from Ms. Meadows.”
“Thank you, sir.” Gerard grabbed the stone and ran back into the house.
“Let's walk, Randall.” The two men strolled the gravel path of the expansive gardens. Not as grand as Versailles, but for America, this was a palace garden. As they walked, the doctor and Strathmore spoke.
“The boy is quite talented. With training, he will be like nothing this world or others have ever seen,” stated Caiaphas.
“Doctor, I was thinking when the boy goes to Italy to study with you, I might come and spend time with the others?” asked Strathmore.
“What is your interest in meeting with others? I am the leader of our cabal. You have the ear of the master,” said the Doctor.
“Well, it’s just that I haven’t met the others.”
“Randall, this is how secret organizations work. In secret, far from the public eye and apart from each other to protect the cabal.” Caiaphas stopped and turned to Randall with a smile and leaned to look him in the eye. “Are you lonely? Do you need companionship?”
“Well, I had been spending quite some time with Angelica, helping with her plans. When the
boy leaves, it will be very quiet around here.” Caiaphas took Randall’s hands and gave them a shake of confidence.
Randall thought, The boy is right; his hands are cold.
“All in good time, Randall. Before we worry about you meeting the others, let’s discuss how we settled up in London. I checked, and from what I gather, Angelica never made it to the ship or Nova Scotia,” directed the doctor.
“Hmm, I suspect the necronists never let her out of London alive, but I will keep an ear to the ground. She may still show up. She is very resourceful,” Strathmore suggested.
“And the business with the Moyas?” pressed Caiaphas.
“All of the coroner’s inquests are resolved, and the documents that Angelica forced the Moyas and Chilton to sign are in place. I expect the biggest stink to come from my partners at Chilton, Chilton, Owens and Strathmore will be about the trustee not being in the home office. If the documents see their way into court, they will stand up to any scrutiny. I am the trustee, and you are the boy’s ward, as planned if Angelica was unable to make it back to the States.”
“She understood the risks to exact her revenge, and now she has it, all of them dead and none the wiser. What else...” said Caiaphas, who seemed displeased by something.
Randall could tell by his curt speech and the ploy where he expected Randall to guess what he wanted to speak about. He wasn’t really in the mood; his sleep was still off, and the last week had been quite stressful. “Doctor, as far as my observation, all has gone according to plan. Angelica obtained her revenge and the certainty that her son, now in your care, would inherit his grandfather’s fortune.
“The gold,” stated the Doctor continuing his inquest.
Strathmore couldn’t believe his ears. Between the two of them, they had just gained control of the entire Moya fortune worth over seven million pounds. From what Strathmore knew of the doctor, he had no want for money. How could that small amount of gold make a difference? “The gold was stolen from the smelter before I could move it.”
