The Curious Case of Simon Todd

by Vanessa C. Hawkins

  “I didn’t drink at all.” Though even as he said it he wondered if he had by accident. That spider had looked real, but there were so many foul things in the air around Piper’s Toss that maybe he had inadvertently inhaled some hallucinogen. Damned city!

  “Are you…?” Simon straightened himself up, arching his back and stretching sore muscles. “Wait,” he said, suddenly aware Fae was in his room. “What are you doing here?”

  Miss Hershal shrugged, inhaling with a yawn as she moved to resume her sleeping position in the chair. “I hadn’t a place to stay. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

  “Well I do.” Simon pressed his lips into a thin line. “What would my companions think if they knew I was sleeping in the same room as my boss’ daughter? We’d both be scandalized.”

  Fae waved her hand. “Ah, to hell with your scandal.” She tucked her knees up under her chin, turned away and closed her eyes. “We’re the lot of us in a brothel. Who’s to say your companions aren’t committin’ their own scandalous acts. It’s our word against theirs.”

  That was true at least, though Simon still didn’t like the thought of it. “’Sides,” she continued. “I talked to your friends last night. They’re all nice enough. I wouldn’t worry about nothin’.” She grabbed Simon’s hat from the desk and threw it over her eyes to block the early morning sun.

  Simon huffed, but sat down on the bed thoughtfully. It didn’t matter. He’d be gone before they knew anyway and Fae was probably right, on top of that. “Fine,” he said, standing to grab his case and find a comb to run through his hair. “I have to do some bookkeeping before dawn anyway, so take the bed.” He needed a shave too, he thought, running a hand over the stubble on his chin. There was a basin in the room, as well as a pitcher of water. Some buildings boasted running water but this room was certainly not among them.

  “Me dad keeping ya busy?” Fae yawned again, untangling her limbs as she took the three steps to the bed and fell heavily atop it.

  “Well, I did take a rather hefty holiday with no definite end date.” There was a knocking on the door. Simon looked up as Fae ignored it.

  “I heard somethin’ of the sort,” she said, closing her eyes.

  Simon groaned, wondering who in the world could be knocking on the door at this hour. That he had a lady in the room was bad enough, but he hadn’t shaved or even changed his clothes. Certainly he didn’t want to look as much a deviant as he currently felt.

  “Miss Baxter?” She was standing before him with a candle in hand when he opened the door a crack. The morning sky was a dark blue, just barely lit by the predawn, but the hallway was still very much awash in darkness. The young lady looked concerned standing in the same white nightgown as yester-night, but she had a night jacket on as well now, accompanied by a rather handsome nightcap that framed her curling hair.

  Gods! And here I am unkempt and unwashed with Miss Hershal in my bedchamber!

  “Simon? I heard a voice. Are you alright?” Her voice was as soft as the down on a newly born swan.

  That she used his given name and not his surname gave him visions of birds singing a morning chorus. Mr. Todd’s heart lightened just a bit as he smiled. She’d never said Dick’s first name.

  She peered past him into the room. “Is that Miss Hershal?”

  “Sleeping.” That lady called from beneath the sheets, now tucked in all the way to her chin.

  Simon glanced behind him, irritated. There had been no need to answer! “She…” he sighed. “She didn’t have a place to stay and slept here. She gave me quite the startle when I woke up.” He frowned, hoping Fae wouldn’t reveal his run-in with an imaginary spider beast.

  “Oh.” Miss Baxter smiled. “Well I’m glad you’re alright. Are you planning on heading out soon?” Sweet, young, naive Miss Baxter. Simon was sure even if he were a delinquent and had done something untoward with the young Fae Hershal, Miss Baxter wouldn’t have believed it. He cherished her so.

  “Uh,” Simon scratched his head, trying to rid his brain from all the fogginess of sleep. “Yes, but only for an hour or two. I have to update Mr. Hershal’s ledger while I’m here.”

  “Oh, well may I accompany you?”

  Simon was surprised. “It’s just some accounting work. I doubt it could be anything but boring for you.” Unfortunately. Simon was also quite aware of how dull he was.

  Again the young girl smiled. “Not at all. The weather looks promising today and I doubt I’ll be able to get much sleep after that start from the hallway. Just give me a few moments to change?”

  Simon couldn’t have been more delighted. “I need a shave anyway, so take your time.” Alone time with Miss Baxter! He was positively elated by the idea. “I’ll meet you in the foyer in an hour.”

  Miss Baxter inclined her head, keeping her bright eyes on his. “Until then, Mr. Todd,” she said, turning to return to her chambers. It didn’t even matter if she had resumed her formalities and called him by his surname, something she most certainly did after learning Miss Hershal was privy to their conversation obviously, because Mr. Todd was so delighted at the idea of spending time with Miss Baxter that for the moment nothing else mattered.

  “Get up.”

  “Hey!” Fae shouted, her eyes snapping open as Simon ripped the sheets from her. “I thought you said it was okay.”

  Mr. Todd was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt. “You can sleep all you want after I’ve changed, but I need you to get some warm water from the proprietor and bring it up. This is much too tepid for a good shave.”

  Fae grumbled, rubbing her neck as she threw her legs over the bed and reached for her boots. “A please would be polite.”

  “Thank you very much,” he said instead, digging in his case for another pressed suit, the gray one with a maroon vest and tie. Throwing them on the bed next to her, Simon removed his razor before looking back, the collar on his dress shirt wide open.

  “Go on now. I’ve only an hour!”

  Fae looked at him sourly before picking herself up from the bed. “Alright,” she said. “But you’re buying me breakfast when you get back.”

  “All the eggs in the world! Go, go!” Simon hurried her out as the girl only minimally protested, dragging her feet on the floor.

  “Bacon too!” she cried.

  “Yes! Go! Whatever you want!”

  Fae could already taste it as she fled the hall, bounding down the stairs to ask for water. She never really understood what it was about Miss Baxter that tied Simon all in knots. She was pretty enough, sure, but she also had attended Grimguild for necromancy. Seemed like an odd thing to study when you were as innocent as Mr. Todd proclaimed.

  Oh well, she thought, looking around the empty foyer for hired help. None of me business. But as she peeked into the courtyard to look for Gino, Fae was surprised when she saw Molly Stein instead, still dressed up as she was the night before in a white brassiere and fox pelt. She was sitting on a chaise lounge, legs crossed at the ankles with a glass of wine balanced on one bare thigh. Two men were opposite her, one in a black suit and fedora with a rather bright red mane of hair curling around the rim. He had the sharp features of a rodent with a long nose and narrowed eyes, but still enough man in him to proclaim him handsome. The other was much older. He was broad and thick in the middle, wearing a large, thick mantel that looked as though it could have clothed the other two younger people with him had it been cut in half. He was balding on top, and as they all three conversed in the public parlor, his wrinkled brow seemed perpetually concerned, like the age of his years had never offered up anything but disappointment.

  “Hey? I’m lookin’ for some hot water?” The three looked up as Fae entered. Molly looked more annoyed than the two men.

  “Who’s this doll?” The youngest man had an accent, something that came from down south. There was a punch of sarcasm in his tone, something Fae was sure he always kept with him.

  Molly fingered the pelt around her neck. “Don’t get excited. She’s certain
ly not an employee,” she said, pressing her tongue to the back of her teeth in agitation. “Though Fae’s been for sale once or twice.”

  Fae rolled her eyes. The red-haired youth sat back in the stiff dining room chair he was occupying, giving her a good up and down. He was of a skinny sort, more arms and legs than anything with much muscle, and on one side of his face his red hair fell down around his features like a curtain. “I’d be interested.” He grinned.

  “And that’s all you’ll bloody be!” Fae walked forward as Molly waved her hand dismissively, halting her progress into the courtyard to confront him.

  “There’s a water closet upstairs at the end of the hall,” she said. “Run the right tap for a bit and you’ll have hot water aplenty.”

  Fae wondered if she was making some kind of deal with these two gentlemen. Molly was a working girl after all. It wouldn’t be awfully out of the ordinary.

  Instead of asking however, Fae paused. The older man was quiet, hands in his lap. Though he may have been over fifty he certainly wasn’t frail. The chair was dwarfed beneath him, even more so by the black fall of his thick coat. Fae decided quickly she didn’t care at all what Molly was doing, and so turned mid-step to resume her quest for hot water.

  “That ain’t the dame you were talking about, was it Mol?” Fae heard from the staircase.

  “Certainly not. She’s just some riff raff dice rat.”

  Only mostly true, Fae thought, not bothering to stick around to hear the rest. Instead, listening to her directions, Miss Hershal went about her way to proffer some good hot water for shaving. She did this with little trouble and was quite happy to be back in bed the moment he took it from her.

  “Don’t wake me up until it’s time for bacon.”

  Simon Todd was straightening his tie for the seven thousandth time this morning. Despite finally being in bed and cozy, Fae couldn’t stop watching him fidget over his attire.

  “I shouldn’t be gone long. The room is yours for the remainder of the morning.” Bending to regard himself in the mirror one last time, Simon picked up his suitcase, tucking his gray bowler beneath his arm before walking to the door. “Wish me luck!” he said, turning on his heel and vacating the room.

  Fae laughed beneath the sheets as he left. “Good luck,” she said more to herself than the man currently floating down the hall, “with your accounting.”

  When he got to the foyer the three guests from before were gone, and indeed the Thirsty Bush seemed quite deserted. Gino came out after a small amount of time, moustache waxed and ornamented with several different varieties of glass beads than was showcased the night before. Simon made sure to keep his back to him, not really wishing to engage in idle conversation before Miss Baxter arrived. He was quite certain the proprietor would recognize him if he did so and wanted to save himself the embarrassment of having to explain their familiarity to the young lady afterward.

  Miss Baxter however, came down shortly, dressed much the same as she had been yesterday. She looked very handsome in violet, Simon mused. Black lace adorned the hemline of her gown and made up the majority of cloth around her chest and shoulders. Her hair, one of the many traits Simon adored most about her, was held up again today in another matching bonnet, only this one seemed to be open in the back, framing her long mane of golden hair as it fell in thick curls down her back.

  “Morning again, Mr. Todd.” She was walking with her crook. The cool ivory stuck out against the darkened fabric of her chosen wardrobe.

  Simon swallowed, holding out his arm for her to take as she reached the final stair. “Morning,” he said feeling awkward. The reality that they were leaving together from a brothel was not lost on Mr. Todd. He was just glad they were far enough away from Darlington and the afternoon crowds that no one would notice them leaving together thusly.

  Still, Simon did not hesitate to vacate and abandon the building quickly after Miss Baxter took his arm. He was glad for the obliging weather as well. Unlike yesterday’s relentless rainfall, Piper’s Toss was waking up to sun and a froth of cloud. Light had already breached the horizon when they left, and though most of the residents of the town were sleeping off alcohol or debauchery, a few birds and pigeons took the place of rats in an effort to gather breakfast before the roads became too busy.

  In the morning, just before the sun was too high to cast any harsh verdict on the trash accumulated throughout the night and the buildings were mostly kept in silhouette and shadow, Piper’s Toss looked rather exotic. Business banners and signs, strange wares from foreign countries, and the odd scent of mixed flavors and refuse in the air made it a smorgasbord of sensation.

  Simon walked down the cobbled streets in the direction of Mr. Hershal’s bank, angling around the smaller alleyways where he knew drunks would be sleeping it off. It was a box of a building, surrounded in brick with a large cast iron door in the shape of a circular vault. On most days the door would be open and the much less sturdy wooden entrance would be on display for customers and clients to easily open and walk through. But the bank wasn’t open yet, and in Piper’s Toss where criminals were as common as stones, you could never be too careful to lock your doors once or thrice.

  “How will you get in to check the books?” Miss Baxter asked, regarding the steel and iron sign overhead quite proudly displaying the letters ‘Hershal Bank’. Two propellers facing outwards from the bank’s front were quiet, though Simon knew that when the establishment opened for the day they would be whirling until nightfall, pumping energy into the turbines that fed light into the building.

  “There’s a cellar door in the back. Mr. Hershal’s given me the keys.” Several keys it turned out, for Mr. Hershal could never be too careful with his money. The door in question was a puzzle in itself, with many interlocking cogs and mechanisms situated delicately into place. Simon escorted Miss Baxter around the building and downstairs where the cellar entrance was. Through a rather mangy wooden door the couple entered a small concrete basement where Mr. Todd proceeded to collect a large ring of keys from his case.

  “You have to insert them in a specific way in order to open it, else it won’t work and a locksmith will have to be called.” A master locksmith, as this door and the several others like it were all specially ordered by Mr. Hershal himself. Simon had begun to prepare himself when he looked back over his shoulder.

  “Terribly sorry, but if you wouldn’t mind looking away a moment?” Though he knew Miss Baxter was as pure as fresh fallen snow, Simon did have a reputation to maintain, and his professionalism was amongst the most sterling in his community. He took pride in it. After all, not just anybody could ask for an indefinite amount of time off and have their request granted. Not anybody. But Simon Todd could.

  “Oh. Of course.”

  Like he knew she would, Miss Baxter smiled, turning away with her hands politely folded in front of her. Simon was immensely enjoying their time together. Without the propriety of the party, Simon was able to relax and enjoy her company wholeheartedly. Not that he was anything but a gentleman, mind. However, without the scrutiny of the public, Mr. Todd felt wholly able to function comfortably side by side the young Miss Baxter without having to worry about his feelings being reflected back at him by his fellows.

  They could talk about gardening, farming, her ass Salvador, and no one judged Mr. Todd when he blushed as her bosom touched his elbow.

  Smiling to himself as he fiddled with the keys, Simon heard the clicking of the mechanism as the first lock was breached. There were only three more to go, which was in fact greater than the standard two most banks had. The large ring in which all the keys were strung was clumsy, and as Simon took great pains to sort them into some kind of order, he hadn’t noticed that there was indeed a timer on the device. Having overlooked this obstacle, the young gentleman was taken quite off guard when a small pin was shunted into place as a result, locking the entire apparatus.

  No! Mr. Todd looked behind him as he struggled to remove the first key from the lock. It
wouldn’t budge, and though Miss Baxter was still waiting patiently behind him, he knew he couldn’t keep her standing there indefinitely without looking like a buffoon.

  Oh gods! She’ll think I’m a dullard! What do I do? Simon knew the lock was inoperable until a locksmith could come to fix it. The only other way to get the door to open would be from the other side, and even then the door would remain locked when it was shut again. Simon frustratingly listened to the thrumming of his heartbeat for a few moments before looking at his hands, contemplating.

  If I am a ghost I should be able to go through this door. I did it to the furniture after all. Pressing his palms flat against the metal, Simon closed his eyes, biting his lip as he pressed his weight against the metal structure.

  “Everything alright?”

  “Fine!” he said with too much strain in his voice. “It’s… there are just a lot of locks to be undone.”

  I’m a clown, a joker! I’m a positive ninny! My reputation is a farce and I should be cast from the Frelish guild of organized accountants and-

  When he fell through the door it was entirely unexpected. It was less like the door had disappeared, and more like he felt heavier than before. Regardless, he caught himself with his palms and landed on his knees, looking up into the bank and then behind him for confirmation.

  “I’m on the other side,” he remarked quietly, grimacing as he picked himself up and clapped the dirt off his hands. Inside was almost entirely adorned in dark wood panelling and the hard floors were brown marble with intricate designs of horse carts etched into them. Simon had certainly been in the building before, but the heavy array of animal busts always gave him pause. Mr. Hershal was perpetually fond of hunting and every one of his banks boasted a taxidermy animal head or two. The branch at Piper’s Toss had six creatures adorning it altogether: a buck, panther, bison and even a hugely exotic elephant head. Simon wasn’t sure where Mr. Hershal had found that one, but the man was certainly well travelled, so it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility.