by Tim Hehir
‘Yes. Intimidating.’
Julius’s admission had a mollifying effect on the woman. Her face relaxed as if his fear satisfied her.
‘Your name?’ she asked.
‘Julius Higgins.’
The woman considered it for a moment. ‘Mr Flynn is already here,’ she said. ‘Come inside.’
The flames of the gas lights along the walls hissed and the odour of the burnt-off gas lingered like a taste at the back of Julius’s throat. He followed the woman along the corridor. A scream rang out. The woman stopped and listened. When the scream ended she walked on.
Lunatics’ faces, contorting in screams and crazed laughter, filled Julius’s mind. The woman led to him to what looked like a waiting area—there were empty chairs and an oak-panelled counter. Mr Flynn was standing there.
‘Is this boy known to you, Mr Flynn?’ said the woman, before anyone could speak.
‘Julius?’ said Mr Flynn.
‘I got your note,’ said Julius.
Mr Flynn nodded to the woman. ‘Aye, I know the lad,’ he said.
This seemed to satisfy her. ‘You’ll be pleased to take a seat,’ she said and walked away along one of the corridors.
Mr Flynn took the jar containing the soulcatcher out of his pocket. ‘I brought this to show, Mr Darwin,’ he said.
The soulcatcher’s tendrils pressed against the glass, still looking for a way out.
Julius started. He remembered the jar Skinner held over Darwin. He clutched the pocketwatch.
‘Are you all right?’ said Mr Flynn, putting the jar away again.
‘Yes.’ Julius turned away, pretending to look around while he tried to compose himself. ‘It’s an odd place,’ he said.
‘I got here just ten minutes ago and I’ve got the collywobbles already,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘I’ll be glad to see the back of the place. If you’re not mad when you arrive you soon will be.’
Julius forced an unconvincingly laugh.
‘Do you remember Skinner’s name in Darwin’s diary?’ said Mr Flynn.
Julius turned to face him. ‘Skinner? No, I don’t think so.’
Mr Flynn tried to make a reassuring expression. ‘We’ll be out of here as soon as we can,’ he said. ‘They told me Darwin’s getting ready to leave. His doctor discharged him this afternoon, but Abberline asked him to wait for me to see him home.’
Julius was barely listening. His whole mind was on the warmth of the pocketwatch. It was calming him, clearing his mind.
You should tell him everything now, Higgins.
‘Mr Flynn—’ he began.
A young man came towards them, pulling on his coat as he went.
Julius recognised the man immediately. It was Charles Darwin. His hair was a thinner and his face a little fuller, but it was definitely him.
Mr Flynn took his hat off.
‘You are Mr Flynn, sir?’ said the man. ‘Constable Abberline tells me that I can trust you.’
‘That is so,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘Allow me to introduce Julius Higgins. This is the young man who received the other orchid.’
Darwin glanced at Julius while he anxiously fiddled with the lapels of his coat.
‘I’m pleased to hear that the doctor discharged you, Mr Darwin,’ said Mr Flynn.
Darwin snorted. ‘They know me here. I am engaged in research with one of their patients,’ he said. ‘They know I’m not mad.’
‘I don’t follow, sir,’ said Mr Flynn.
He smiled at Mr Flynn’s confusion. ‘Do you still have the orchid?’ he said. ‘I should like see it.’
Mr Flynn took the jar out of his coat pocket and held it out to Darwin.
‘Yes. It’s a soulcatcher,’ said Darwin. ‘Destroy it. Burn it. Promise me you will.’
‘Of course,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘But, why? I don’t understand.’
Darwin looked hard into Mr Flynn’s eyes. He appeared to be weighing him up. He ran his trembling hand through his hair.
‘A man named Tock has got his hands on some soulcatcher cuttings. He means to propagate them. He sent a pickpocket to steal my diary—it is full of my botanical observations of the soulcatcher. There is vital information in it about the soulcatcher’s life cycle.’
‘Go on,’ said Mr Flynn.
‘What I have to tell you, you will not believe,’ said Darwin. He looked intently at Julius and Mr Flynn, calculating how much he could trust them. Then he continued. ‘Tock is a genius. But he is also a fiend.’ He stopped as if to see how his words were being taken.
‘I’d agree with you about the fiend part, sir,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘After what Julius and I have seen of him.’
This appeared to give Darwin the confidence to go on. ‘I met Mr Tock at a lecture on orchids at the Horticultural Society,’ said Darwin. ‘He was all delight and smiles, wanting to know about my explorations in Brazil. He asked me if I knew anything of an orchid that extracts people’s souls—it is the stuff of rumour among the orchid-maniacs, you see. I am sorry to say, I made a grave error in telling him a little about the Village of the Soulcatchers. One day he asked for my assistance in propagating the soulcatcher cuttings he had somehow obtained. I refused, of course. He was most displeased. Then he asked to borrow my diary. Again, I refused.’
Darwin appeared to drift off into his own thoughts.
Julius shuddered as he remembered the native child sitting on its mother’s lap and the smaller soulcatchers creeping into the clergyman’s hut trying to seed him and Emily.
‘I have seen a village laid waste by the soulcatcher,’ said Darwin. ‘If Tock succeeds with his propagation plans it will be calamitous. I was at my wits end searching for him. And then a soulcatcher was left outside my door.’
Darwin stopped as if he did not want to go on.
‘The life cycle of the soulcatcher is strange even for an orchid,’ he said. ‘When it matures, individual buds pull themselves off the mother plant and send down roots into the ground. But they pull themselves out at night and go in search animals or humans to seed with their tendrils. When I saw the orchid in the pot outside my room I knew it was such a specimen. He had managed to propagate it from the cuttings without my help. I didn’t know what to do with it. I took it in as if in a dream, a nightmare. I fell into a stupor. When I awoke I saw the orchid climbing out of its pot. It was quicker and stronger than the ones I observed in Brazil. I must have screamed the house down.’
Darwin looked from Julius to Mr Flynn. His face was contorted with terror.
‘A horrifying experience, no doubt, sir,’ said Mr Flynn.
‘We have to stop Tock,’ said Darwin. ‘He intends to release the soulcatchers all over London.’
‘Why would he do such a thing?’ said Mr Flynn.
Darwin fiddled nervously with his lapels again. ‘Tock is the strangest of men. He told me once that his Maker told him he had no soul. I told him the Bible tells us that all God’s children have souls. He laughed at me.’
‘Why did he laugh?’ said Mr Flynn.
‘He said he was not made by God,’ said Darwin. ‘I am sure he means to carry out some insane revenge—if he has no soul he will take everyone else’s and the soulcatcher is his means of doing so.’
Mr Flynn cleared his throat. ‘I see,’ he said.
‘I believe he has my diary, so he has the means,’ said Darwin. ‘He will do it, unless we can stop him. Will you help me?’
‘We will,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘You have my word on that.’ He put his hand on Julius’s shoulder. ‘Isn’t that right, Julius,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ said Julius, trying to sound convincing.
‘Good,’ said Darwin. He fussed about his coat as to fend off a growing fear. ‘But, there is someone I must introduce you to, if you are to understand what we will be up against.’
‘We can call in on him on the way home, if you like,’ said Mr Flynn.
‘There is no need,’ said Darwin. ‘He is here in Bedlam. The man is the subject of the research I mentioned. Skinner’
s his name. George Skinner. He was an orchid-hunter.’
Julius started. Skinner was here in London when he was supposed to be in Brazil. He opened his mouth to ask if Skinner was seeded but stopped himself. He was not supposed to know anything about it.
CHAPTER 16
Saturday 20th January 1838
9:12 PM
Darwin led Julius and Mr Flynn through the gas-lit corridors of Bedlam. The whole of Julius’s body was shaking as he walked. He gripped the pocketwatch, trying to concentrate on its constant rhythm. He hunched his shoulders to make it look as if he was shivering from the cold.
When they came to a door Darwin selected a key from a key ring and turned it in the lock.
‘Do not be alarmed,’ he said. ‘The lunatics cannot get out.’ He locked the door after them. Another corridor stretched ahead. Julius and Mr Flynn exchanged a glance then followed Darwin past padlocked doors, each bearing a piece of card with a name inscribed on it.
Conspiratorial whispers wafted around them as they walked on. Someone cackled. Julius jumped. He felt Mr Flynn’s hand on his shoulder.
‘It is a lamentable place, sir,’ said Mr Flynn to Darwin’s back.
Darwin did not reply. At the end of the corridor he turned to them. His face had grown pale and drawn in the short journey. ‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘These corridors fill my nightmares. We are nearly there.’
At a large steel-plated door he fumbled with the key ring, searching for the correct key.
‘Do you have your own keys, sir?’ said Mr Flynn.
Darwin found the one he wanted. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Bedlam’s Governor, Lord Bloomingbury, is an orchid collector. His Lordship understands the danger of the soulcatcher and has given me every assistance.’
‘With what, sir?’ said Julius. His voice trembled a little.
Darwin unlocked the door. ‘You will see,’ he said.
Julius and Mr Flynn followed him through the door and Darwin locked it behind them. There were three other doors off the empty room, one on each wall. All were made of steel and each one had a rectangular hatch at head height.
‘This is where Bedlam keeps its most dangerous inmates,’ said Darwin.
Darwin turned down the gas lights a little, and then went to the closest door. He fidgeted with his lapel again as if trying to compose himself.
‘There’s no name on the door,’ said Julius.
‘Skinner’s presence is a secret. He is the patient with no name,’ said Darwin. He unlocked the padlock on the hatch.
When it opened, Julius coughed at the musky odour that emanated. Mr Flynn held a handkerchief to his nose.
‘Mr Skinner,’ said Darwin. ‘Mr Skinner. I have water for you.’
Darwin filled a glass from a bottle on the floor. He clinked the bottle against the glass.
Julius stared through the hatch into the dark cell. Something large slithered along the floor. Then there was a low rustle, almost like a moan.
‘Mr Skinner,’ said Darwin. He tapped the bottle and glass together again.
Something hit the steel door on the other side. Julius jumped. He wanted to run away, but all the doors were locked. A stifled moan came though the hatch.
Julius felt Mr Flynn’s hand tighten on his shoulder.
A man’s face appeared at the hatch.
Julius jolted, falling back against Mr Flynn.
Wide bloodshot eyes stared out at them. Soulcatchers with flowers of pale orange and brown dry stems grew from the man’s nose and mouth. They surrounded his face and entwined themselves in his long hair and beard. The man’s fingers clasped the bottom edge of the hatch. His nails were black and cracked. Tendrils clasped at the sides of the hatch too, with languid movements.
Darwin held up the glass. The meagre gaslight shone through it. Skinner stared as if it was the elixir of life. His hand reached out and his fingers gently wrapped themselves around the glass. Then he carefully pulled it towards the hatch then stepped back and tilted his head. The water almost babbled as, with great care, he let it trickle into his mouth. He ignored the tendrils flicking about his face as if trying to lap up some of the water.
When he was finished, Skinner ran his tongue around his cracked lips and smiled, revealing his black teeth and bleeding gums. His eyes were still wide and staring as he reached out to return the glass.
‘Thank you, Mr Skinner,’ said Darwin.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Mr Flynn. ‘Why is this man locked away in the dark?’ Julius could hear suppressed anger in his voice.
‘I am trying to save his life,’ said Darwin. ‘And his mind.’
‘How?’ said Julius.
‘All plants need light to survive,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘I hope to kill the soulcatcher by denying it that. It appears to be working.’
‘And what of the poor wretch?’ said Mr Flynn.
Darwin filled the glass again and gave it to Skinner.
‘Mr Skinner is completely mad,’ he said. ‘It is the soulcatcher’s doing. First the soulcatcher gives its host beautiful dreams, then the madness that you see before you. Finally—if what the Brazilian natives believe is correct—it will steal his soul.’
‘How did Skinner come to be here?’ said Julius.
Darwin stared at Skinner’s face. Skinner was watching them as if they were the exhibit, not him.
‘Six years ago Skinner tried to plant the soulcatcher’s seeds into my blood. He meant to bring me back to England and make his fortune, with the most exotic orchid in the world.’
‘What happened?’ said Mr Flynn.
‘The oddest thing,’ said Darwin. ‘Two native children came to my rescue. In the scuffle it was Skinner who was seeded. I banished him to the island where the soulcatchers grew. The deadly waters there make it a natural prison.’
‘So he got away?’ said Julius.
‘Yes. A year or so later he was found floating along the river in a makeshift raft. The soulcatcher flowers had not begun to show, but he was already becoming unhinged. He was half dead from starvation and the blazing sun. The Missionary Society paid for his passage home and he was brought straight here. Then the orchids began to grow. I have been monitoring the soulcatcher’s progress—and Skinner’s—ever since.
‘I think I’ve seen enough,’ said Mr Flynn.
‘You understand now?’ asked Darwin.
‘I’m sorry to say I do,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘We have to stop Tock before he does this to anyone else.’
Outside the gates of Bedlam the freezing fog nipped at their cheeks and noses. Julius, Darwin and Mr Flynn walked for a time, each in his own thoughts.
Julius breathed the cold air, like a newly released prisoner. When he thought of Skinner he felt ashamed of the relief he was feeling. The present was unchanged. Had he and Emily done the right thing after all? But still, he had to tell Mr Flynn what he had done.
‘I was going to suggest that you lodge with me, sir,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘At least for this evening. Your own lodgings are less that inviting at present. It might be safer too.’
‘That is most kind,’ said Darwin.
They walked through the dark streets. Julius clutched the pocketwatch. How many more lies would he pile up around him before he confessed? Emily’s blank face stared at Julius in his mind. She hated him now. Would she tell Mr Flynn about the time-jump before he summoned the courage to do it himself ?
‘You’re very quiet,’ said Mr Flynn.
‘I’m tired,’ said Julius.
Mr Flynn lingered, looking down at Julius while Darwin stood under a gaslight nearby, holding his coat tightly about himself.
‘Is anything the matter?’ he said, quietly.
‘Me and Emily fell out. But she didn’t get angry—it was as if she switched off something inside her. She stared at me as if she didn’t care about anything.’
It was too dark to see Mr Flynn’s eyes, but Julius knew he was looking at him.
‘She’s had a hard life, Julius. Harder than you or I could imagi
ne.’
Julius hung his head. Mr Flynn’s words were kindly meant but they stung him hard.
‘Tell her you’re sorry. And don’t take long about it,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ said Julius.
‘Mr Darwin and I will check on Tock’s lair first thing,’ he said. ‘We’ll let you know how we fare.’
Julius waved across the street to Darwin and walked along Ironmonger Lane.
You can tell Mr Flynn everything tomorrow, Higgins.
He slipped through the bookshop door without letting it ring the bell. A crack of dim light under the curtain, told him that his grandfather was still up.
In the parlour, the fire was burning low. Mr Higgins was asleep in his chair with a book open across his chest. The clock on the mantel showed it was close to midnight.
Julius unbuttoned his coat and sat in his chair, suddenly realising how exhausted he was. He took the poker from the stand and dug it into the dying coals to coax out the last of their warmth.
‘What, where…?’ said Mr Higgins, jolting awake.
Julius slumped back in his chair.
‘Ah, young Caesar,’ he said. Then he remembered the terms of their parting earlier. He adjusted his glasses uneasily.
Julius kept his eyes on the fire.
Mr Higgins cleared his throat. ‘Been out and about, young Caesar?’ he said.
‘Yes.’
Mr Higgins righted his book and pretended to read.
‘I’m going to bed,’ said Julius. ‘Mr Flynn will be calling early. I’m going to spend the day with him.’
‘As you wish.’
Julius rose. Mr Higgins cleared his throat again and turned a page with exaggerated care. Julius stopped at the foot of the stairs.
‘You’ve seen her, I take it?’ said his grandfather. ‘Your mother, I mean.’
The stairs led up to darkness.
‘Yes.’
Mr Higgins sniffed. ‘How is she?’
‘She works as a maid at Emily’s school. She’s fine.’ Julius waited for his grandfather to speak again, though he did not know what he wanted to hear.
He realised he had forgotten to put some coals into the warming pan for his bed, but he could not bring himself to turn back to get them.
