The Untold Tales of Dolly Williamson: An Occult Steampunk Thriller: Prequel to The Guild Chronicles (The Guild Chronicles: A Steampunk Fantasy Book Series 0)
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The older Emilio learned something else in England. How to be a man of leisure. He stayed in London after he finished school to carouse with the group of English dandies rather than join the family business. With each success, Hernando makes Emilio richer and finds it disagreeable that his brother has a say in company affairs and receives a large allowance. I know Hernando will be the master of his fortune but he lets his family situation and the privilege of his brother fuel resentment. With Emilio dead, the Moya fortune of nearly seven million pounds goes to Hernando.
“Is Hernando in London?”
“Not that I know of,” said Randall
Arthur then turned to offer Randall a cigar. Randall took one “I would like a flat cut, not a V cut please” handing the cigar to Arthur who cut the cigar then handed it back to Randall.
“May I cut your cigar, Detective,” said Arthur.
“Please,”
Arthur made the cut then handed the cigar back to Dolly. As Dolly wetted the end of the cigar he then removed loose tobacco from his mouth. When he looked up Arthur was igniting a lighter.
“Arthur get us matchsticks to light the cigar. You’ll ruin the flavor with that filthy lighting fluid.”
“Yes Sir”
“You see some things should not change like lighting a fine cigar with a flame of a match after the sulfur is burned off”
He leaned back in his chair to draw on the cigar as Arthur held out the match. Dolly noticed now the top of the man’s walking stick was a carved wolf head with gold filigree in the collar around the wolf’s head had a pattern of circles a smaller circle or dot in the center of each larger circle.
“This is a fine cigar Mr. Strathmore,”
“I am personal friends with Don Jaimie Partagas. He has an amazing plantation. You know they say these cigars are rolled on the thighs of virgin girls. Can you believe that?” asked Strathmore.
“Smoking a cigar that is this smooth I believed it,” replied Dolly as he held out the cigar sideways and gazed at it and gave Randall a smile of satisfaction.
“We became friends after I looked at his property to assess the collateral for a loan he has with Chilton. He takes me on a tour to see the assets, first, he showed me the tobacco fields not worth much, next, he showed me his inventory of tobacco that is curing, now there is a value that can be priced to market right in Havana. He can tell I am struggling to see how I can approve the size of this loan he seeks with what he has shown me, so he says he is prepared to secure the loan with his prize chattel a group of slaves, forty in number he has roll his cigars.
After lunch, Don Jaimie and I ride in his surrey to the building and to my surprise when I enter it’s not forty vestal virgins rolling cigars, but forty old men. Toothless scrawny, not a one looks like he would live another day or could work an hour in the field without keeling over.” Randall took a sip.
Dolly laughed, “So much for the loan I’d say.”
“Well funny you say because that is what I was thinking. Forty young slave girls that can roll cigars. That is stock, and if the cigar market falls they’re still breeding stock or trainable for the house or field but how do I give him 20,000 pounds’ sterling for some tobacco and forty men with one foot in the grave.” Randall stretched out his bum leg and rubbed it while he spoke.
“Well one thing I have learned is that I can always learn just one more thing and I needed to learn about the cigar business but I also can’t look a fool in front of Don Jaime.
I wired Don Moya, Emilio’s Father who was still alive at the time in Haiti. I requested if he had knowledge of the tobacco business and the matter of the value of a cigar roller. He introduces me to Don Jose Hoya de Monterey who agrees to meet with me the next day. So the next day I have a meeting with Don Jose at his plantation and ask him what he would pay for five of Don Jaimie’s top cigar rollers. He tells me that if they could roll a Pyramid like these he would pay one thousand pounds each. I asked him if I could go to see his rolling rooms and you know what he said: 'Amigo you will not find any virgins there either.'"
The two men laughed. Dolly needed to get Randall off his stories and onto the subject of Saturday night.
“What was Mr. Lester Chilton’s disposition on Saturday?”
Reasonable, for an English man who just lost his father to a heinous murder and his bank robbed. If I know Lester he will try to lose himself in the work and pick up as much of his father’s clientele that he can,” said Randall.
“Was there a reason you all convened Saturday night?” asked Dolly.
“Emilio wanted Chilton to loan money against his inheritance to invest in Babbage’s manufacture of Difference Machines. He touted that the next advances in mechanical automation will require his methods in computation”
“and?” pressed Dolly.
“Lester said Babbage hadn’t a chance without support from the Guild and was resistant to investing with Babbage”
“Would Lester Chilton have a reason to kill His Father and Moya?”
“Detective, Don Moya left an estate of over seven million pounds. While that is a fantastic sum of money for most, it is nothing to the Chilton’s. Lester and Francis were close as a father and son could be and business partners as well. Lester had more than enough money to wait out Sir Francis’ last day on earth when he will inherit another fortune he could not spend.” Randall finished as he dropped an ash in the ashtray on a corner table.
Dolly felt the time was right. “So why did you meet with Emilio at his hotel room the night of his death?”
Randall smiled and paused before he answered, “I won’t ask how you knew I met with him nor will I deny that I did.”
Randall adjusted his position to get closer to the policeman. “I met with Emilio because I wanted to hear more about his scheme with Babbage. It intrigued me and there are interested pools of capital that the mechanists have no influence over. I am not interested in missing out on a good deal because some guild cronies of Chilton would get upset.”
“Was there anyone there that can corroborate your story?”
“Maybe your witness? Other than that no. It was brief, I was also staying at the Carlton I dropped in to make a date with him for lunch.” answered Randall.
At one thirty in the morning? Dolly queried.
“Detective that may seem strange to you but we had just been carousing and gambling not a few hours before, I imagined he would either be up and ready for more or passed out and not able to answer his door.”
“So, you were the last one to see him alive?” said Dolly.
“No, Detective that would be whoever killed him” answered Randall.
“And you think that is Hernando?”
“The brothers never did see eye to eye. They were too different and Hernando’s good stewardship enriched Emilio who gambled, drank and whored. You said it yourself greed is a primary motivator, I would have Arthur get the betting book and wager, this boils down to family and money Detective.”
Dolly thought this would go in circles unless he could find evidence beyond what he had to connect Randall, but his gut was telling him that Randall knew more than he was letting on. “Here is my card if you think of anything please wire me. I would be indebted.”
“Sir, I will if I recall anything. There is nothing more that I want than to help you find the culprit and bring him to the gallows, as far as being indebted never say that to a banker, my friend,”
WEDNESDAY THE 15TH OF JUNE
9:30 Scotland Yard
When Dolly entered Commissioner Mayne’s office two gentlemen were already sitting in the two seats in front of the commissioner’s desk.
The two men stood upon his entrance, Mayne remained seated and had a sour look.
“Detective Sergeant Frederick Williamson, I would like to introduce you to French Consul Dr. Felix Anou,” Anou was a slight man with a bald head and a goatee. Although he was an English-educated physician and had been in the United Kingdom for decades as an attaché to the consulat
e; his face, his clothes, his tone, accent, and demeanor all reeked of France.
“And this is Special Envoy of the French Government Guild Master Gerrard Saint-Yves,” said Commissioner Mayne. Dolly struggled to understand what a Necronist was doing here. The guild’s close relationship with Emperor Napoleon made them a foe of the Queen. Many thought they used their scrying powers to give the Emperor an advantage on the battlefield. Other rumors were that the Necronists negotiated a covenant between the Devil and Napoleon for his protracted life. Between the government's concerns of the guild being saturated with enemies of the crown and both the Catholic and Anglican Church considering their practices unholy, Parliament had never ratified the guild in the commonwealth.
“Good Morning Sirs,” replied Dolly shaking both men’s hands.
Dr. Anou, the smaller of the two, wore a light gray suit with a matching waistcoat. His dark goatee waxed to a point and his mustache tips curled.
The Guild Master presented himself; dressed in the classic garb of the Necronist Guild. Other than the edge of his white shirt cuffs showing, the ominous character was cloaked entirely in black. His long black silk brocade coat that practically brushed the floor, with two rows of pewter buttons closing the front. On his high collar was the gold insignia denoting his rank as a Grand Master of the Wyrding, he was upper echelon Necronist, only six had that rank.
The Commissioner continued, “Detective, it appears that the coroner’s inquiries to reach the next of kin of Emilio Moya raised eyebrows in Haiti and they wired the French Republic.”
Dr. Anou injected, “The French government requests the Crown to support their pursuit of a fugitive that may be on UK soil. The Emperor’s ministry will share all the pertinent facts with your department to assist in this matter.”
The Commissioner could see the consternation on Dolly’s face and intervened to get him up to speed “Dolly, this came from the Home Office. Walpole agreed to cooperate and offered the Metropolitan Police Service in a sharing of intelligence and the arrest of the suspect.”
Dolly took the cue. Take your medicine. “Who will be my liaison?”
“Mr. Saint-Yves,” responded Dr. Anou.
“Not a Gendarme or at the very least one of the Emperor's Secret Police,” suggested Dolly.
Saint-Yves spoke, “Detective, The Emperor chose me because I am an authority in the arcane and have investigated the techniques of the fugitive. I can be of considerable service to your department and can help you to catch her.”
“You are seeking a woman?” Dolly replied. His interest was aroused.
“Yes, an ex-slave who instigated a rebellion in the protectorate of Haiti,” replied Anou.
“A colored girl?” Dolly followed.
“Most slaves in Haiti are negroes,” Stated Dr. Anou.
“Why is this of concern to the Guild?” asked Dolly.
"This is a matter of interest to the Republic of France and the security of its citizens. This woman is engaged in unwholesome practices; his Holiness Cardinal Almont the See of the Catholic Church as well as the Guild have deemed to be unnatural and heretical acts,” declared Dr. Anou.
"Now the Church and the Necronists are making joint proclamations. My how times have changed," taunted Dolly. Fifty years ago when the Necronists appeared in France as a cult the pontiff declared them heretics. If it were not for the support of Emperor Napoleon, it is feasible that the Holy See would have sought to purge Europe of the Necronists.
Dolly took another tack, “What makes you think the fugitive is here?”
“The plantation where the revolt started was a Moya owned estate. Señor Hernando Moya was murdered. The Colonial Police advised the government when your coroner sent a cable to Hernando Moya to inform him as next of kin to Emilio Moya. I am not a police officer like you Mr. Williamson but it is logical that if both Moyas were slaughtered the same way that it is the same murderer out to seek vengeance on the Moyas. You attempt to associate a natural cause to supernatural incidents of Señor Moya's death and that has bewildered you. I can explain how he perished," said Guild Master Saint-Yves.
Dolly crossed his arms. "Well, let’s have it,”
The Necronist met his stare.
“You found the bodies in a state of dehydration, as if all the bodies fluids are removed or as if the body burned yet there was no sign or source of a fire. The Guild consulted with the spirit world and we have learned that the fugitive has tormented the souls of the living by invoking the fires of hell to appear here on earth.”
“So, you're saying you have talked with Señor Moya’s Ghost? You fellas are going to put me out of work if you can start having spirits point out their killers," retorted Dolly.
Saint-Yves’s face never showed a variation of emotion as Dolly pressed. “Detective, I did not partake in the seance, nor do I know if those that did, were contacted by Señor Moya or some other spirit guide. I can guarantee you that if the woman is practicing heretical arts in London, you will need our cooperation with her capture.”
“So, you're the guild expert on Voodoo?” asked Dolly.
“What makes you ask that Detective” replied Saint-Yves. Dolly got the rise out of the Frenchman he was looking for, not even a necronist could stay stone-faced forever.
Dolly pressed "Let’s be clear, from this point on, if you answer my questions with a question to evade giving me the information I desire, we’re finished. Come calls from the Earl of Derby or the Queen herself,” The detective turned to Mayne. "Take me off the case and give it to someone that has time for this farce.”
Before Mayne could answer Gerrard spoke. “Very well. It appears you know something of the arcane and therefore know our fugitive and likely the suspect you seek is a practitioner of Voodoo. I have been to Haiti and understand the nature of the practices and the capabilities of the practitioner. The woman we seek is a high-level Hougan Witch Doctor. She can twist the will of the living and raise the dead.”
“If we can keep it straight that I am the Detective in charge, and you are a liaison with no jurisdiction, and under no circumstances are you to act on your own then I'll give this a go. We will apprehend her, lock her up and leave it up to our two governments to determine how justice will be meted out. If you agree I will make sure I share my knowledge to date and continue to uncover during the investigation, fair enough?”
"Detective, I agree to your offer. I only suggest that when the hour arrives to capture the Hougan, that my qualifications and the services will be required to guarantee no further deaths at the hands of this enchantress,” replied Saint-Yves.
“We will cross that bridge when you hand over some evidence to where we can find your witch. Where do I reach you when I need your help?"
“I will be staying at the French Consulate and can be type-wired there,” responded the Guild master.
Dolly smiled “thank you gentleman I will be in touch and I will look forward to seeing your notes on the incident in Haiti. With that Dolly left the office and returned to his desk.
He sat down and gave his desk a visual survey letting out a heavy sigh. He noticed at the top of the incoming mail bin an envelope addressed to Detective Sergeant F.A. Williamson in elegant calligraphy.
Flipping it over the envelope was sealed with wax but he could not make out the imprint. He opened the note with his penknife noticing Rose’s ward dangling next to it.
The message read,
Dear Mr. Williamson,
You are invited to dine with Mr. Lester Chilton at the Meadhurst Manor on 24th June 1858.
Given the distance, the Chilton home will be open for you to stay as a guest on a noted evening. Please advise us of your acceptance of the invitation and intended arrival at Meadhurst so that our driver can meet you at the station.
Cordially,
Lester Chilton. Barronett P.s. Dinner attire is respectfully requested.
He threw the letter on his desk, and mumbled to himself “Now I need to get my hands on a Dinner Jacket.” when he
looked up Mayne was there.
"I don't like French men in my office any more than you, Williamson but don't be making a scene because of your pride as a detective. You have four bodies and your no closer to finding the killer or building a case so get your nose on the grindstone, and let them help”
"Yes, sir,” replied Dolly.
"Detective, save the tone. What's the difference between these blokes and when you call on your witch?"
"She's English,"
Mayne noticed the other detectives watching. He turned and left before Dolly and he started a pissing match. Besides there was no need to argue with the boss, he didn’t ask for cultists to help, and he didn’t approve of Rose. If the Home Secretary was prepared to let Necronists help on this case while crying that the French were trying to start a riot at the gas works then pressure to solve the case was coming from someone directly on Walpole and it was mounting.
THURSDAY THE 16TH OF JUNE
9:00 PM Weng Lo’s Tien Gow Parlor
Rose passed through the raucous smokey Tien Gow parlor. The area was packed with Chinese migrants; it was loud, maybe rose perceived it louder since she didn’t speak the language. The illegal gambling den was a contrast to Lo’s attempt at a high-class environment with his dealers and staff clad in tuxedos and gowns and the bulk of the working-class patrons looking like they walked in right off the street; many had done just that.
Even here she got looks as she followed Weng Lo’s Lieutenant, Jimmy Lin to visit Master Weng. Rose and Weng developed an unusual relationship based on their history before she turned into a demon hunter and Weng the chief of the Lucky Three Triad in London. Rose administered to the Saint Luke’s children’s home where he was a benefactor. He had lived there for a time when he first arrived in England. His tenure was well before Rose began her ministry there. Rose figured they were about the same age. When she fell into her troubles, Weng made certain she was taken care of when others including the church abandoned her.