by J M Bannon
“Detective Williamson, how are things at Scotland Yard?” inquired Owens as he packed the ledgers into his attaché.
“Very well, Mr. Owens, thank you for asking."
“I do hope you're not in need of Ms. Caldwell’s special expertise?” added Owens.
“No, and I don’t feel so bad that she has me running over to her fancy Paddington address, now that I see you are doing the same.
“Rose, dear, might I ask you why what appears to be a very scary New Zealander prowling in the park across from your home?” questioned the Detective.
“Oh Yes, I noticed him as well Detective, he was there when I pulled up. It’s just with Ms. Caldwell and you know… well, I just took it as par for the course. Is it safe to go out, Detective?” mumbled Owens.
Rose peered out the window “Bugger, he followed me home the other day and he won’t leave."
“Well hell, Rose I'll take care of this right now.” Dolly turned towards the exit.
“Oh no, Dolly nothing like that, he was one of the crew on the Thrift that took me out to sea. Upon our return, he said he wished to fight alongside of me,” Rose said as she grabbed Dolly’s arm.
The Detective settled down, “Rose, let go,” and he brushed the wrinkles out of his sleeve. “Speaking of that Constable Caldwell, we need to discuss the wire-type you sent me.”
“So, it's safe, Detective?” checked Owens again.
“If she says so. Tell you what, I’ll watch from right here and if I see him do anything, I’ll come right out," Dolly opened his coat to show Mr. Owens his revolver.
“Good day, Detective. You Gents are worth every pound the Crown pays,” Owen said as he made his way out the door.
Dolly yelled after him, “You tell that to your friends down at Whites, what we are worth so I can get a raise,” he turned back to Rose and Moore chuckling at his own joke.
“Palmerston and those Bloody liberals won’t be obtaining a membership at Whites,” muttered Owens as he went out.
She stood looking at Captain Moore. “Ah yes, this is Captain Moore, the Naval Secretary, he has seen the wire and he too would like to hear about your escapade, or should I go out in the park and interview the Polynesian,” jibbed Dolly.
“Pāora Te Potangaroa," announced Rose.
"God bless you," answered Dolly with a sneer.
"Pāora Te Potangaroa that's the man's name, he is Maori and you are welcome to speak with him although he is a man of few words."
“Stop it, Rose, let’s stick to the subject and pretend for the Captain here that you listen to a superior officer. Have I told you I liked you better when you were poor?” said Dolly.
“You were the one who brought up the Maori in the hedgerow, not me."
“Enough. Can we go somewhere to talk in private so you can add detail to your wire-type?” suggested Dolly.
“Certainly, let's go down to the workshop. In fact, Boss, I have whipped up a little something for you.” Rose teased.
As the Captain and Dolly walked with Rose down the hallway, Rose leaned into Dolly and whispered, "Owens gets the creeps from the workshop, only been down there once, and won’t be doing it again anytime soon.”
“Rose, that is a sign of sound judgment and I applaud him for having it. A good quality in a money man. I wonder if he will ever return now that you have the Pacific Prowler in your garden?”
"Oh, he’ll be back, otherwise I’ll show up at his bank,” now Rose chuckled at her own joke turning to the Captain, “Welcome to Hawkin’s House."
Oh here we go, thought Dolly he had to hear this speech again. "I call it that because, while I own the property I have an agreement with the previous owner that she can continue to reside here, and I will be her flat mate.
Now Dolly whispered to Moore, “That’s right, she just told you she lives with the ghost of an old lady.”
“When finished, this will be a residence as well as my workshop. Let’s me show you down to the studio arcana.”
Rose guided the two of them through the parlor and dining room to the room that was her study. This was all supposition as there was so little furniture; one of the few pieces a desk and empty bookcases were in this room signaling it was her study.
In the casework was a large iron cylinder a bit larger than a door. Rose approached it, reached into her coveralls and brought out a key ring. Selecting one of the keys she inserted it into a keyhole next to the iron cylinder and turned it. A loud ka-chunk sounded behind the wall and the cylinder moved slightly as the locking mechanism released the bolts. Rose then opened the curved door that recessed into the wall revealing a wrought iron spiral staircase going down.
“Please follow me,” offered Rose. Her voice echoed off the cold metal of the stairs and walls of the stairwell.
“This stairway and the upper and lower doors are all one assembly I had made by Welby Fabricators. When locked, the passage is hermetically sealed, no air in or out. It’s not commissioned yet but my plans are to make it so I can actuate the doors from the reliquary and have some nasty countermeasures for those who might think about intruding.”
“Well this is a marked improvement from when I was here last,” remarked Dolly as he stepped out of the stairwell into the reliquary.
Rose beamed as she spoke “the electric light is throughout, and this main room is the reliquary for storing the artifacts I have collected along the way. Hawkins House cellar ran the whole length of the house so beyond that wall is a hallway to a studio arcana, and theurgy chamber.”
The room was well lit with black and white glossy tile on the floor and ceramic tile work up to the halfway point of the wall. The upper part of the walls was mirrored, creating a feeling of infinite space underground. In addition, the room had the feel of a history museum with glass cases and cabinets where various relics were on display. Dolly recognized in one cabinet the Ju-Ju Staff of the Voodoo Queen Angelica. It gave him an unsettling feeling seeing it in the glass case, down lit and mysteriously suspended in the air.
“How did you get all this down here?” asked the Captain.
“You see those double doors there next to the stairwell, that goes to a freight well in the back garden where there is another set of doors to lower the equipment down. Now that I have the major equipment installed I have closed that all up.”
“Come back to my studio arcana.” Rose led the men down a center aisle that went to the back hallway where a velvet curtain hung. She pushed it aside to reveal the part of the basement with wainscoting in purple heart wood and patterned flocked wallpaper on the upper walls. Directly ahead was another walk in strong box door and regular wooden doors to the right and left. Rose walked in through the door on the right.
Inside the room that appeared part laboratory and part mechanist workshop. A young raven-haired girl wearing a dress and apron was putting bottles into a glass cabinet. “Violet could you be a dear and give us the room, we need to talk,” asked Rose.
“Sure, I need to get back upstairs to relieve Mrs. Kechel of Rosie so she can go shopping.”
“How ya been Violet?” asked Dolly.
“Good Detective Williamson, you?” replied Violet.
“Where's my manners, this the Naval Secretary to the First Lord of the Admiralty Captain, Jacob Moore; and this Captain, is Rose’s sister, Miss Violet Caldwell.”
Violet extended her hand and the young captain gave her a bow and kissed her hand after he held it lightly. Violet blushed at the flourish of formality.
“Well, Detective I do prefer when you come here bringing dashing officers rather than dire news of a haunted crime scene. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain Moore. I will take my leave.” Violet closed the cabinet where she had been placing bottles and left with an empty wooden box.
"Here is my present for you," Rose handed him a small tin box she had picked up off the counter.
Dolly opened the box. The tin lid was snug and took some work to slide off. Inside were slugs with prepared paper cartridges attached to the bullets.
” Dolly looked at Rose then held the open tin facing her.
“Those are for your Colt. I went over to Tripp Brothers Gunmakers and worked with Colin to get those made.” She reached into the tin and pulled one out. “Colin provided the mould for the Minnie ball, measured and packaged the powder, but I cast the balls. See in the tip.”
Dolly looked, and it appeared as if Rose had cast a crystal and within it was a faint glow of aether.
“What are these for?”
“I have been working on them for some time and finally got the recipe to work. It is an incanted alchemical gas, Hesperus Mercronia with a warding. You can put one or two in the chambers of your pistol and if you run into any of the ilk that don’t die from a regular bullet, those will do the trick.” Rose explained with pride.
“Colin was impressed when we shot off a few rounds at his shop. Apparently, at impact the crystal and the metaphysical gas warps the bullet. He said by the size of the hole it made, it could stop a bull.”
“So, this is for me to go shoot vampires?” asked Williamson.
The captain was looking at the bullets in the tin with deep interest when he injected, “bullets don’t kill vampires, wooden stakes do.”
“See, even your friend knows you don’t shoot a vampire,” said Rose.
“Then werewolves.”
“That would be silver, I think” jabbed the Captain.
“Well, the Captain is right if there were such things as werewolves and vampires. I would get you a wooden stake and a handful of silver bullets but those are fantasies made up to sell books. We deal with the facts of the physical and metaphysical, not fantasy creatures. I’ll tell you those bullets are not easy to make so don’t be shooting common villains, as they are meant for those that intrude from other planes of existence,” finished Rose.
“Like the fella you met out at sea?” asked Dolly.
She scrunched her mouth and nodded to the Scotsman. “That would have been a good test, shame I missed that. Maybe next time.”
“Rose ya sent me a wire-type that the English Coast and all of Her Majesty’s Navy were in danger then the next thing I find out is that the coroner needs to pick up a body down at the wharf. Now I have a dead fella in the morgue with stab wounds.”
“Hector Gravina,” offered Rose.
“Go on,” pressed the Detective.
“He was the grandson of the Don Federico Carlos Gravina y Nápoli. The grandfather died of wounds suffered at the battle of Trafalgar as the Admiral in command of the Spanish Armada that lost to Nelson. His family fell into disgrace or at least Hector felt so and he set out on a plan to destroy the British Navy.”
“And he planned to do this how?”
“He nicked a Mesopotamian fetish that can summon a demon. I had followed him down to the wharf but I was too late, he had gone out to sea. He manifested Pazazu, the lord of storm and drought, intent on creating a tempest so strong that the entire Navy would be destroyed,” described Rose.
“Our tally so far is over one-hundred fifty ships wrecked and countless others damaged, as to the death toll that will take time as we compile manifests and finish searches,” said Moore.
“And that is when you commandeered the whaler?” asked Dolly.
“I wouldn’t say that. I asked the Captain to take me to sea. I was clear as to what I was up to and the dangers involved.”
“Rose you're not on your own anymore. You're a constable in the Metropolitan Police and as such, the decisions you make reflect on the department. Along with that responsibility comes more resources than ever, but you need to let us know you need the help. What if that ship had sunk or crew was lost?”
“Ms. Caldwell, in the future if you require seagoing resources the Admiralty will oblige. This is my card, you can wire-type my office and we can review the request,” Moore offered.
Rose looked at the card “I appreciate the support.” Rose turned to Dolly, “I was hot on his tail and I had a feeling that was the ship to take me on the journey, not to go to the wire-type office and wait for directions from my boss.”
She frustrates me to no end. “Rose, it’s not a matter of me being your boss, it is understanding that you are part of a bigger group now, and as part of that collective we can be helpful if you let us. Believe me, Rose, I’m not one for protocol but there are benefits to being part of the Metropolitan.”
“Dolly, I am sorry. Part of this is if I go it alone I don’t have the responsibility for others. I just feel like with this new role I have more and more people that have expectations of me…”
“Rose!” It was Violet yelling from the reliquary.
“Speak of the Devil, one tick.” Rose strode to the door and yelled back “What is it?”
“There is a big gentleman upstairs, says his name is a Mr. Brentwood from Gilchrist manor with urgent business for you, Sis.”
“Send him down right away.”
“Ms. Caldwell,” Brentwood addressed her with a nod.
It was William Brentwood, Preston’s Butler.
“Is he all right, Brentwood?”
“Given the circumstances, I would say he is doing well, but he needs your help.”
“As soon as I finish up with these gentlemen, I can accompany you back to the Manor.”
“Oh, no. Miss Caldwell, Master Gilchrist is here. He is in the car.”
10
Tuesday, the 5th of June 1860
3:40 PM Hawkin’s House No. 4 Blandford Square Paddington
Rose bounded out of the house to the carriage. Preston was crouched in the rear passenger compartment looking down at the floor hugging an old tatter book box.
“Preston, please come in the house you will be more relaxed there,” She said opening the door.
“Rose, a Maori of the Ngāti Kahungunu Iwi is standing in the park and he is watching me,” Preston never glanced up once during his odd statement.
“The Naga ta Ka..” Rose struggled to utter what Preston said with fluid pronunciation.
“Ngāti Kahungunu Iwi, it is a communal group akin to a clan or tribe on the North Island of New Zealand. Now you're thinking how does he know? I know by the tattoo iconography,” muttered Preston, intensely concentrating on the rear of the chauffeur’s seat.
“He is watching the house, not you. I met him the other day; it's complicated. Let’s get you inside," pleaded Rose.
Rose and Brentwood ushered Preston to the studio arcana where Dolly and the Captain were still waiting. Preston paced not looking at anyone just staring at the floor, hugging the frayed linen book cover. “A few days ago, I was visited by Baron Gustavus Traube, a wealthy alchemist and the father of a woman I was formerly incredibly devoted to... I was in love with Lorelei Traube. Her father came here, I mean came to the manor to have me help him decode her diary.”
“Is that the notebook?” asked Dolly.
No, this is the Journal of Azul bin Hassan Tazziz Farouq al Jani Djin, a Vizir of the Hermetic Order. Who are you?” Preston gave him a sideways look.
“I am Detective Fredrick Williamson of the Metropolitan Police Department.”
“Pleasure, Detective. Pardon me for not shaking your hand but I have a condition. I am what doctors diagnose as an agoraphobic hysteric. That’s the medical diagnosis I’ve been given but a misnomer, I have a metaphysical condition that is difficult to control when out of the familiar surroundings of my home. I assure you I am not mental and I try not to be impolite but I am doing everything I can to hold on to my wits so I can be of some help to Lorelei.”
“Preston, I have a theurgy room across the way would that help to calm your nerves?” asked Rose.
“No, I am keeping it together. I may not look it, but I am,” replied Preston.
Rose thought differently looking at him he was sweaty and pale and looked simple minded squeezing the book box like a stuffed toy animal.
“In my right coat pocket is a key. A key she sent to me, which tells me that Lorelei needs my help and does not trust others. I c
ame here, Rose, because I know you can be trusted. Detective, I put you in the same company through association; the gentleman in the Naval uniform I cannot conclude as to the level of trust I should put on him and maybe I should cease talking. Although I can speculate by his decorations in relationship to the rank of captain he has seen his share of action, then there is the fact he is in your sanctuary, Rose, so likely a confidant of yours.”
Rose looked to Dolly embarrassed that Preston was acting so bizarre at first introduction to her chief. This differed from his possession state where he buffeted between the two personalities, now he was frail and nervous.
“Preston, relax. You're among friends and we will help you,” comforted Rose.
“Why did Traube come to see you?” asked Dolly.
“The notebook. He thought he could get a lead on why and where his daughter had disappeared to through the notes. He required my assistance because her writing is encoded.”
“Why would they be in code?” Rose inquired.
“Why do you wear a choker with a relic of Saint Elisabeth of Schönau woven into it? It is in her character. I doubt she is kidnapped like her father thinks but I do know she wishes me to follow her. I want to help but look at me Rose I am doing everything I can to hold on. I need you to take me to Berlin,” Preston explained.
“Preston, I want to help but I have never been out of England I wouldn’t even know where to start,” responded Rose.
“That’s not true Rose, outside of what you have done with your out of body travel, before Mr. Gilchrist came in, we were discussing your exploits on the high seas,” mentioned Dolly.
“Ms. Caldwell, I can’t say if the chap is up for the trip, but if you plan to go, I can help you with the resources you need to travel overseas. You have my card so you can wire me. It appears you need privacy and I will take my leave. Detective, shall I drop you at Scotland Yard?” said Captain Moore.
“Dolly, please stay, I need your advice," sighed Rose.
* * *
7:20 PM Hawkin’s House No. 4 Blandford Square, Paddington
