by J M Bannon
"What if his condition is, as he insists, a metaphysical one," challenged Rose.
"So, you wish to feed his delusions? That he is possessed by an Egyptian mystic called Abdul!”
“Azul Hassan, a Sufi cleric who was a Warden in the Hermetic Brotherhood. I can assure you that he does indeed exist, I have spoken to him.”
The doctor chuckled. "We all have, he is a prolific speaker, and may I add, boorish and insulting. A typical alternative personality, demonstrating behaviors and traits the patient is too inhibited to act out on, so they create a make-believe personality," the Doctor spoke in an instructive tone.
"You misunderstand me, Doctor. I have spoken to Azul; he is quite real and individual from Preston. At the Alchemical Works where Maxwell was struck dumb, Preston acted heroically and worked with the spirit of Azul to thwart a force of evil; these events caused the two to be joined," corrected Rose.
"This is exactly why I can't have you see him, you are an enabler, and reinforce his fantasies," The Doctor turned and spoke to Lord Gilchrist.
"You don't believe in the spiritual or the afterlife Doctor?" Rose interjected.
"I do not, the mind is a construct of the biological," defended Burckhardt.
"Are you saying you are an atheist, Doctor," asked Lord Gilchrist.
"My personal beliefs about religion are not in question here. I am a man of science and committed to eradicating your son's infirmity. My scientific research to cure Mr. Gilchrist is the solution. I ask you, Ms. Caldwell why have you not remedied the patient by spiritual means?" challenged the Doctor.
Rose had no response, she wasn't prepared to pay the price for the only remedy she was capable of producing.
"Lord Gilchrist, I thank you for the lunch and the introduction to Ms. Caldwell, but I am not here to socialize, my goal is to cure your son. That said, I will take my leave to go and work further with the patient." The Doctor stood up and excused himself.
The Senior Gilchrist and Rose sat in awkward silence as Burckhardt left the dining room. "I didn't mean to cause a scene,"
Gilchrist wiped his mouth with his napkin and dropped it on the table. The staff swooped in to clear the plates. "No matter Rose, He is an odd fellow but highly regarded. Certainly, I am a little concerned he is a godless man, but if he has a means to bring Preston back from this insanity, then he will be in my favor no matter how disagreeable his views. Burckhardt does have a point, that with your background and experience you could never do much more than quiet his demons, never expunge them," posed Gilchrist.
Rose sank into her chair. If he only knew that she had the means to cure Preston but at the cost of her soul and Azul’s existence, would he have her make that bargain?
"Enough of this, let me show you the prize of my travels," Gilchrist stood up and guided Rose out to the rear garden.
Just off the patio stood an enormous round stone. It was taller than Rose and carved in ancient pagan petroglyphs.
"This monster took twelve mules to pull out of the jungle. The Olmec calendar stone; I found it atop a temple, I believe it is evidence of this pagan civilization’s advanced mathematical understanding of astronomy. Our local guides theorize that human sacrifice took place in that temple, using this stone."
Just then Rose felt a cool chill roll over her. As she touched the stones’ intricate carvings her skin pebbled with goosebumps. "I can affirm to you Lord Gilchrist that this stone has tasted the blood of the living."
* * *
3:30 p.m. The Home of Miss. Anna Moore, Regent’s Park
The steam carriage chugged down the street eventually arriving at its destination, the Moore's townhouse, in Regents Park. Violet road in the back of the hire car with her unlikely chaperone, wearing the splendid new dress she had had tailored to fit her perfectly at Presley's boutique. Pāora fidgeted next to her in a somber navy coat with a collared shirt and bow tie.
"What time would you like me to return?" asked the Maori.
"Pāora, I'm having tea with a lady of society; not going on an adventure with my sister," Violet knew how protective their newest household staff was of herself and her daughter. The coachman opened the carriage door and waited for Violet to exit.
Pāora placed his paw-like hand on Violet's tiny wrist, "It is the dangers of the city that concern me and you're coming and goings within it, are safer with me as company."
There was no arguing with him. He was right, no one would dare think of saying a thing to her with the burly Pacific Islander hovering nearby. In a city containing every mix of race and creed, Pāora stuck out, finely dressed but covered head to toe in tattoos. Once Rose invited him to stay or rather insisted, he had settled into the house as the Major Domo and de facto security guard. The man never shared why he was so compelled to be with Rose and her family, only that after the incident on the Thrift, he knew he was destined to be with them. Violet also knew Pāora had secretly been receiving help from Oscar Owen's man to learn how to provide suitable service at the house.
"Can you return at half past five to escort me home?" Pāora nodded in acknowledgment then rested his forehead on Violet's their noses touching. Violet had learned the Māori sign of affection and was growing used to it.
Violet briskly walked to the front door, the March air was damp, and the overcast sky refused the sun an opportunity to burn off the cold morning air, even this close to mid-day. Before her foot hit the portico steps, the door opened. "Welcome, Miss Caldwell," said the middle-aged butler. "May I take your coat?" Violet took the servant's help to peel off her wool overcoat. Anna Moore emerged from the parlour. "Miss. Caldwell, I am overjoyed that you could attend to us today. I had hoped that we would have a more temperate climate and could take tea in the garden, but we will take tea in the parlour instead," the young mistress of house greeted her. She wore her hair up and chose an embroidered light blue crinoline skirt with a fitted velveteen jacket to show off to her new friend.
Violet, was already feeling overwhelmed, was it tea or lunch and does the change of venue mean anything? Her curiosity in knowing more about Jacob Moore had encouraged her to accept Anna Moore's invitation, even at the risk of looking boorish.
"I brought you a little something," said Violet handing a small box of candies to Anna.
"Thank you very much, this confectioner is my favorite. Please, come with me I have someone for you to meet." The two entered the sitting room where an older woman was already seated.
Could this be Anna's mother? Violet considered, attempting to calm herself. "Miss. Violet Caldwell, this is my aunt Cecilia Moore, my father's sister. She will join us for tea today."
Violet's stomach sunk. She was already concerned about this affair and how to conduct herself, but felt she could count on Anna's good nature to make up for any shortcomings in her manners. She thought quickly and gave the elderly woman cloaked in black lace a quick curtsey. Cecelia nodded in acknowledgment. "Have a seat dear," the woman offered.
"Will Jacob be joining us?" She knew from the date of the invitation he had said he was otherwise engaged but she hoped he might at least drop in to say hello.
"See Auntie, Violet can only think of Jacob. No, he’s out with his old mates from his days in East India. That's all an excuse I believe, to stay distant. Don't lose heart Violet," added Anna who signaled the staff to begin service.
"Your brother sees you're up to matchmaking again and doesn't want a part of it," said Cecilia.
"Why don't you tell us about Paddington, young Lady?" asked Aunt Cecilia.
"There is not much to share, I live with my sister. She purchased the old Hawkin's Town house and made the place habitable again," She was just about to say who else lived there and paused out of embarrassment of her personal situation. She shifted the topic. "We are originally from up North, Chester, to be specific where my father worked at a small grain mill," Violet offered with a nervous smile.
"It must be difficult living in London with your circumstances," commented the older lady.
"Her sister being a witch," offered the old woman as if it were a matter of fact while taking an egg, mustard and cress sandwich off the tray the servant held for her.
Violet wasn't expecting the conversation to turn to her sister Rose, she was concerned for the daughter she had had out of wedlock. She suddenly was feeling less hungry.
"The minister at our parish says she is a sign of the end times!”
"Aunt Cecelia, enough of that nonsense. If I knew you felt this way, I would not have invited you," Anna admonished.
"I didn't say I felt that way, I just repeated what our Minister said in his sermon the other day,"
"My sister is an officer of the crown and some might argue with your minister that if the Queen, the head of the Church of England, sees fit to have appointed Rose as part of the police force then she has a rightful place in the Empire," defended Violet.
"Well said," Anna said approvingly.
"So, she's not a witch?" asked Cecilia.
"Correct, she is not a witch. Rose is about as far as you can imagine from that," asserted Violet. While she mindlessly put food on her plate in hopes the attending servant would leave and have at least one less person in the room.
"Tell us, Violet. So, I can defend you and your sister and you can put this old bird's squawking to rest," said Anna boosting Violet's spirit.
If I don't stand up for her who will? "Rose is a very devoted, faithful person she has always had a very strong spiritual bent, but it hasn't anything to do with a conventional religion. She tried that route and entered the convent at age sixteen, but before that, for as long as I can remember, she has had visions and dreams. She used to share them with me at night as we would go to bed. Strange visions of angels, spirits and the fae, I thought as a little girl these were just stories she told to help me fall asleep. After she became a nun, she had an experience where she came in contact with the skull of a saint that was kept in the reliquary of the nunnery. Just touching it resulted in visions of the archangel Ariel; who told her she would be the first in a line of humans to speak the language of the angels. Since then Rose has been tirelessly seeking ways to find the metaphysical truths of the universe. Her quest has put her at odds with the Church,"
"You're Catholic?"
I wouldn't refer to myself as a religious person and I can't speak for Rose, either. She left the sisterhood and has been doing her own thing for many years now. What she does is beyond concepts like witchcraft and wizardry. It is more scientific and spiritual. I have seen her do things that you might say were like casting a spell, or someone else might say were performing a miracle; but how she does it is different. She will often use a type of ancient relic, other times she builds contraptions like a mechanist. Rather than steam and pistons her works are powered by the mystical. If you were trying to pigeonhole her, I would call her an artist, not a witch."
"Did you say an artist?"
"Yes, like Leonardo Di Vinci, Michelangelo or Rembrandt. She is a creator and seeker of the truth beyond. The medium she uses is varied to suit the subject of study."
That left the old woman puzzled.
"You know the real issue I think, is that all these old men in frocks, have too much riding on this religious business and are afraid that a young lass might figure it all out in her basement without a man around to take credit," suggested Violet, feeling more confident. That made Anna and Cecilia chuckle and the conversation during tea continued on a lighter vein.
Later after Aunt Cecilia left the two young women took a stroll in Regent's Park. There Violet got up the courage to turn the topic to Jacob and to probe the situation further. Although only the second occasion of spending time together, Violet felt that Anna, while well-bred, did not have airs and graces, showing true friendship towards her.
"I think your brother is handsome and charming, but you come from a well-to-do family with deep roots in the community and Rose and I are two country girls and as you said, somewhat notorious. My father held a poor reputation and if it were not for Rose's skills we would be on the street!”
Anna explained, "Violet, my brother's issue is not with your station or your family name. If anything, he looks for controversy and adventure, but you need to understand; he is not who he used to be. Jacob never wanted to be in the Admiralty, he was a seaman before he was born," Anna leaned in and spoke softly. "As a commissioned officer on a ship in the East India Company, he served in the protective fleet for years patrolling the trade routes through the Indonesian archipelago, a very dangerous business. His ship was lost in a storm, and we all thought Jacob had perished. He was gone for four years, stranded on a remote island with a small group, but together they survived. After the rescue, when he finally returned, there was an inquiry, and the case was sealed along with my brother's mouth on the incident. He was promoted in rank and became the undersecretary, but he never looked to the sea again and his demeanor is now melancholy."
"And no-one knows what happened to him, to place him in this state?" asked Violet.
"There were three other survivors. He still meets with them and they all keep mum on what occurred at sea and on the savage island they were stranded upon. So, he receives comfort from socializing with the other survivors, but that is all, and certainly not what I want for my brother. Jacob is a closed book to all but me I suppose, and I only get to skim the pages he lets me read. That is why when my brother mentioned you, I thought it was my duty to pursue this matter and see where things might go. I do so want him to be rid of those horrid nightmares and to get back to living," Anna said, pulling Violet closer as they walked arm in arm.
"I am unsure how much you may already know about my situation?" Violet said with a wavering tone.
Anna gave her a look. "I don't give a lemon's pip for all that supernatural talk. And as far as your position, I am liberal in my thinking about class, anyone should have the opportunity that you and Rose have had to pull yourselves up."
"It's more than that. It wasn't too long ago after my Pa passed, I was living on my own. You see, Rose had her own struggles, and I had no interest in making my trouble hers. I fell in…" Violet was concerned sharing this part of her past. While she loved her daughter and would not want anything to change, being a single unwed mother presented a stigma she was certain a family like the Moore's couldn't be associated with. More so, she was worried about losing a friend near her age. "You say you're liberal, but I wonder if you are broad-minded enough to believe I am worthy of your brother.”
"You're going to tell me you have a daughter. I know, Jacob mentioned it after we met at the dress shop," Anna interjected.
"Then why would you have invited me over if he doesn't approve?" Violet was confused.
Anna laughed "He doesn't care and as I said earlier, whatever he suffered through in those savage jungles, he believes is far more reprehensible than having a bastard child.
"So, you have known this whole time." "Yes, and I worried you might blab that out over tea with Aunt Cecelia and ruin any chance I have of getting you two together! Just because I know doesn't mean I consider it a topic for Christmas dinner! The best action is to keep that quiet and let me do what I can to persuade Jacob to believe that he deserves a little happiness. I believe that whatever dark secrets he keeps makes him feel undeserving, and you, dearest Violet, given your circumstances, maybe just who our Jacob needs to remedy his situation."
9
Monday March 11th
8:10 a.m. Scotland Yard, London
The Detective's branch policy dictated for Detectives to wear plain clothes; nothing Rose wore was plain. Riding pants and oversized men's white shirting made up the base of her uniform, deluxe casual clothes suitable for action, liberating her from the constraints of the corseted silhouette. The attire allowed Rose to move as freely as her male counterparts. Along with her full length, oiled overcoat, she had commissioned a unique waistband from Parisian leather maker Louis Vuitton, a designer of lug
gage and intricate, lightweight leather goods. This belt held her supply of tools and tinctures. It coordinated nicely with her leather Hessian boots, made for her by the Duke of Wellington's personal equestrian saddler.
Scotland Yard bustled with the comings and goings of police business at all hours. Yet when Rose arrived, many took pause to watch her as she moved with confidence through the doors of the police headquarters.
Since Rose began her career as a Constable nearly three years ago the city and department had struggled with the constant influx of new citizens. This was a census year and projections cited growth of fifty percent to a population of approximately three million people.
Along with the building boom and new construction throughout the metropolis and outlying areas, the Yard had undergone an expansion in physical space and head count. The crime detection division counted nearly one hundred detectives and five special branches. The special branch of Paranormal Investigation and Crime Detection occupied a space in the new addition to Scotland Yard. Rose Caldwell, Dolly Williamson, Adam Burton and the newest detective, Damian Shaw made up the paranormal branch with Detective Inspector Williamson the commanding officer of the branch. The team had an office off the main detective pen. Scotland Yard and the Metropolitan Police Force were growing as fast as the city. It stood to reason that as the population of London increased so would crime rates and the need for more investigators.
Rose entered the office and threw her bag down onto her desk, across from Detective Burton. Detective Inspector Williamson dropped a wire-type onto her desk. "What do you make of this, Caldwell?" asked the Scot. Rose gave it a read.
INQUIRY REGARDING ZEUS COLONIAL INCIDENT. SIMILAR CIRCUMSTANCES IN TERRITORY TOWN. FIFTY DEAD.
STRANGE CIRCUMSTANCES. CAUSE OF DEATH APPEARS SIMILAR TO ZEUS COLONIAL PER DESCRIPTION IN NEWSPAPER. REQUESTING YOUR HELP IN OUR INVESTIGATION.
