The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay - Volume 1: Gallery of Rogues

by Mike Cervantes

  Book Description

  Victorian London’s Most Courageous

  Crime-Fighting Couple

  Meet Thaddeus Hedwater and his wife Mary Jane, two newlyweds who share an incredible secret: when night falls on the streets of London, they scour the streets of crime as the city’s most stalwart crime-fighting duo, The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay.

  Join them, in this series of five exciting adventures, as they foil the sinister plots of some of their greatest foes: the fiendish Three-Headed Mob, the sinister Maestro Bellaco, the diabolical Tin Tuna, and the abominable Silas Monstrosity. It’s sure to be a non-stop, action packed saga filled with deadly twists and turns, and mind-bending shocks and scandals, as The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay throw themselves from one dire circumstance to another, all in the name of justice.

  Contains five short stories by series creator Mike Cervantes:

  — The original “The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay” short story previously published in Steampunk Trails magazine.

  — Three fully re-edited definitive editions of stories originally published on thescarletderby.com.

  — One book-exclusive story, “The Tin Tuna.”

  Mike Cervantes

  THE SCARLET DERBY & MIDNIGHT JAY

  Copyright © 2015 Mike Cervantes

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art by Jorge Santiago Jr.

  Book Design by RuneWright, LLC

  www.RuneWright.com

  Published by

  Mike Cervantes

  Contents

  Book Description

  Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay

  The Three-Headed Mob

  The Tin Tuna

  MAESTRO BELLACO

  Monstrosity Returns

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  First of all, I’d like to thank my Mom and Dad, who have always been supportive of anything I’ve ever wanted to do. If there ever was a reward for being infinitely appreciative of the talents of your children, it would look an awful lot like this book.

  Jorge Santiago Jr., who I’ve known since my very first semester at the University of Texas at El Paso, deserves many thanks. Not only did he create the cover on the first print of this novel. He’s also been a role model in my pursuit of a creative career. He’s always been extremely complimentary of my writing and he’s always had faith that I would put out something great someday. I like to think I’ve done it with this release.

  I’d like to thank fellow author J.A. Campbell. One of the conversations we had on Facebook about the need for more valiant characters in modern fiction was one of my earliest inspirations for the creation of The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay. She, along with David B. Riley happily accepted and published the first story I’d written about the duo in the first issue of Steampunk Trails Magazine, despite the fact I’d turned in a draft containing a real muddle of confused names and typos. Sorry guys.

  I dedicate this book to Kronda Seibert, the founder of Colorado’s very own AnomalyCon annual steampunk convention. I came to Denver feeling a little lost and a little in the dark about how to proceed as a writer and an artist. After only one week after moving here, I attended AnomalyCon in 2013, and found a whole new well of creative inspiration to draw from. Kronda has also been an enormously positive influence on me in my personal life. She believes that anyone with the right amount of inspiration can put out something of this magnitude, and this book is living proof that such a thing can happen.

  Finally, I’d like to thank fellow author Quincy J. Allen, for assisting me with the final few steps of bringing this book out to the publishing market. Quincy is one of Denver’s most respected and influential self-published authors, an individual dedicated to writing as a career who I’ve met many other authors through. Yet, he’s always been very complimentary of my work, and has always appreciated my writing style, to the extent he’d even taken the lone submission I’d made to his anthology series Penny Dread Tales, and classified it as one of the “best of” in a compilation of stories available from his small press venture, RuneWright LLC.

  The Scarlet Derby

  and Midnight Jay

  One evening, in the glamorous mansion of wealthy heiress Mary Jane Hedwater, there came a knock on the front door. Mary Jane, ever the prim type, straightened her caramel brown hair, straightened her plum-colored gown, and made a quick glance of her makeup before moving to answer the door. She knew her husband was down in his basement workshop, tinkering with something, and that the guest was his, but it was her job to bring the guest into the house and converse with him until her husband was ready to come up from the workshop.

  That was always her job when it came to guests.

  Ever the prepared one, she had already set up a delicate silver tea set. All that was left for her to do was answer the door. Standing in the entrance was a close, personal, friend of her husband’s, Chief Constable Howard O’Gratin. He was dressed quite impeccably as well, his custom fitted light brown dress suit was almost enough to offset his wide belly, and his quite nearly bald head. What he lacked in hair, however, he made up by growing wide muttonchops and a long white moustache which curled neatly at either end.

  “Oh there you are, Constable, please, do come in.” Mary Jane said curtly, taking the brown cap that was already in his hands and hanging it on a nearby rack. As they sat and drank tea, the subject of her husband came up. This distressed Mary Jane ever so slightly, as he’d not yet come from the workshop.

  “Yes, I’m afraid he’s down there still. I can’t fathom what he may be doing.” She said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “Well, actually, I came here to talk to you about him.” The Constable replied.

  “To me? About him? Why, whatever for, Constable?” Mary Jane leaned to her friend’s side and whispered. “This isn’t about the fact that he’s an American, is it?

  The Constable leaned back and sputtered. “No-no-no-no, I’m over that by now. Still, you know that the whole city just…runs wild with rumors of your sudden engagement.”

  Mary Jane looked away, pretending to shyly shield her face from The Constable’s interrogation. “Is it a crime for a girl run away with the man of her dreams?”

  “You’re not just ‘a girl,’ Mrs. Hedwater, you’re heiress to the third largest fortune in all of London, and he’s not just any man, he’s an, well he’s….He’s so…”

  “Eccentric?” Mary Jane offered.

  “Yes, that’s the word.” He affirmed with a nod of his head.

  “Constable, all men of genius are eccentric, that is part of what makes them so brilliant, and we both know that Thaddeus is an ingenious chemist, perhaps he’ll win a Nobel Prize.”

  Suddenly, the whole house was rocked by loud popping noise which almost rocked Mary Jane and The Constable out of their chairs. From the door leading to the basement, a feeble voice bellowed. “Uh, Mary Jane…I think I may need some help down here.”

  “Should I bring the fire extinguisher, dear?” Mary Jane called in the direction of the doorway.

  “
Uhm no…The explosion was entirely chemical…I am going to need you to open the sewer drain for me. I…am not entirely sure I can move my legs.”

  Mary Jane heaved a sigh and turned to the Constable. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to take this up some other time.

  “Quite understandable,” The Constable sat up from his chair and took his cap. He stopped and turned to face Mary Jane “But please, do let me know if his ‘genius’ ever does become a burden. I just would hate to see you get hurt.” With that, he left through the front door.

  The smile that Mary Jane reserved for polite company twisted into a bewildered smirk as she twisted around and began to descend the basement stares. There she found Thaddeus Hedwater, soaked from head to toe in the purplish-blue…whatever it was that also covered the floor. He stood and attempted to wring the top of his wild amber hair clean as though it was made of sponge. She gave him a thin-lipped smile and jested “So…These must be your broken legs.”

  “I may have overreacted.” He shrugged, and un-tucked his sopping wet shirt from his brown trousers.

  “You always overreact dear, as do your experiments.” She bent to dip a finger in the mixture and lightly smelled her fingertips. “I’m going to guess you mixed an acid with a base.”

  “…I-it slipped.” He removed a black boot and poured the contents onto the floor.

  “I’m certain it did, dear.” Mary Jane stooped to pull the lever, draining the liquid from the workshop into the sewer. “You don’t think this little accident did any harm to-”

  “The Crime Alert Monitor?” Thaddeus shook his head. “Nevertheless, I should give it a ch-”

  BRWEEP! BRWEEP! BRWEEP! BRWEEP! BRWEEP! BRWEEP! BRWEEP! BRWEEP!

  The sound was so loud it echoed off the walls, shaking the two off their feet almost as soundly as the explosion. “I suppose that answers you question, dear.”

  “WHAT!?!”

  “I SAID I SUPPOSE THAT-never mind…” Thaddeus moved to the alarm and pulled a knife switch on the wall that brought an end to the siren. He then moved to a ticker tape in the center of the room which began to spit out a thin scrap of paper. “Zounds!” He spoke aloud as he read.

  “Zounds, dear?” Mary Jane replied.

  “Zounds, I say! I may additionally say Gadzooks! Someone has broken into the city armory and stolen a large supply of pure glycerol and nitrous extract! Do you know what that means?”

  “That someone intends to mix an enormous nitroglycerin bomb and hold Big Ben for ransom in exchange for the crown jewels?” Mary Jane responded flatly, crossing her arms.

  “Piffle,” Thaddeus scoffed “Who on earth would be so cliché? What’s more imminent, though, is the fact that nitroglycerin is very unstable, and even the slightest mishandling could cause the entire payload to explode and destroy a large portion of the city!”

  “That does sound rather dire. Do you have any idea who may be behind it?” Mary Jane asked idly.

  “There is only one man in all of London conniving enough to attempt such a crime: that dastardly fiend Silas Monstrosity.” Thaddeus began to wring his hands as he spoke. “He’s a contemptible villain, yet in many ways he is also my intellectual equal.”

  “Indeed, the two of you are quite adept at creating enormous explosions...”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Never mind dear,” Mary Jane pushed her husband by the shoulder a few steps until he stood behind a folding screen. “We should quickly change into our costume if we hope to find this criminal in time.” Mary Jane stepped behind another dressing screen, and the two took to changing.

  Thaddeus’ outfit continued to be, in Mary Jane’s opinion, the strangest thing she’d ever seen. It began with a bright red derby worn atop a matching bandana which went over his eyes and had two round holes cut from the fabric so he could see. The opera cape and suit he wore with it appeared to be as red, but was a composed of a variety of different shades of red that complimented the suit where it admittedly should. Stranger, though was the fact that his underclothes were also a shade of contrasting red. His undershirt was salmon pink, as were his gloves, and his socks were as scarlet as his hat.

  Mary Jane’s own outfit seemed far more sensible: It was not unlike many of her other gowns: full and flowery, with only small amounts of flair at the sleeves, and a neck line that went just far enough down to be…interesting. Mainly, it was colored blue, deep and rich like she saw on the jays when she first visited New York, and first met Thaddeus.

  Where there should have been accents, however, the fabric was completely black, as were her stockings, gloves, and petticoats. With a combination like that, she knew she’d be able to hide in the darkness of alleyways, while she was sure her husband would stick out like a salmon-colored sore thumb. She completed her disguise by wearing a masquerade mask: blue with black, feathery plumes trimmed neatly over the brim.

  After dressing, there came weapons. Thaddeus preferred to wield a black cane with a gold ball at the hilt. An object of his design, the ball detached from the cane revealing a chain betwixt the two, transforming a simple staff into a handy flail whenever it was required. For an ordinary man, it would be enough to dispatch the cruelest crook handily, but Thaddeus was no ordinary man, so he also wore a bandolier, hidden behind his opera cape, containing glass vials of every incapacitating gas, power, and potion known to civilized man.

  Mary Jane, on the other hand, wielded an umbrella. What was its special function? Nothing. It was merely an umbrella. But thanks to the years of childhood training she spent under the mystical grand master Crane of Te Rah Ning, it was the only weapon she needed.

  Emerging from their dressing corners dressed in such elaborate costumes and wielding such weapons, it was obvious that the two standing side-by-side in the basement were no longer Thaddeus and Mary Jane Hedwater. Instead, they took on their chosen identities as silent protectors of the city of London: The Scarlet Derby and Midnight Jay.

  O O O

  Soon enough, the pair of intrepid crime fighters found themselves on a tall rooftop overlooking all of London. The Derby searched through a pair of antique binoculars while Midnight Jay glanced with her antique spyglass in search of Silas Monstrosity or the missing nitroglycerin.

  “Do we know what we’re looking for, dear?” The Jay queried, glancing down at her scarlet-draped husband momentarily from the spyglass.

  “We’re just going to have to keep an eye out for anything suspicious,” The Derby replied.

  “Suspicious? At night? In London? We may be looking for a while…”

  Suddenly, the Derby perked up from his binoculars, making an audible stiff in the air. “Hm, I detect a slightly strange odor in the air. Acidic. Slightly metallic…”

  “Don’t tell me: you’ve been in that lab so long you’re beginning to sense chemicals by smell now.”

  “Seriously, dear, inhale a moment…” The Derby offered. The Jay smelled the air. Indeed there was a rather strong chemical scent. The duo looked down from their building to see they stood several miles above an open manhole cover. “It could only be for ventilation.” The Derby reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, which he tied over his nose and mouth. Once the Jay did the same with her handkerchief, the two descended the building into the London sewer.

  After just a few steps into London’s underbelly, the two came to a halt a few feet behind the backs of a pair of thugs guarding the entry to the caverns just beneath the Palace of Westminster. Obviously they were Silas’ henchmen, as evidenced by their black bandit masks and gray sweaters with the words “Henchman” written across the chest.

  Silently, the Derby pulled a vial from his bandolier and signaled to the Jay. She knew the drill at this point: He’d throw the vial containing knockout gas at the two thugs, incapacitating them, and then the two would move on.

  He tossed the vial.

  It crashed at the henchmen’s feet.

  The two henchmen inhaled the wafting gas and suddenly began to snicker, an
d then wail in resounding hysterics. Quickly, the Jay sprang into action, clubbing the laughing henchmen with her parasol, and then yanking him backwards by the neck causing the two to slam heads, knocking them both out cold.

  Lowering her kerchief she looked exasperated towards her husband and playfully chided. “You have your bottles mixed up again.” The Derby silently winced at the tiny prickle to his pride before the two proceeded down the cavern.

  Eventually, they’d wandered far enough down the halls of the sewer to come across something truly suspicious: a glass beaker standing at least fifteen feet tall filled almost to the brim with the stolen glycerol. Also, there were what seemed to be a dozen henchmen climbing a wooden platform around the beaker holding a giant glass test tube containing the nitrate that would complete the reaction.

  Standing at the foot of the platform, a man shouted “Careful you fools! One wrong turn with that test tube and we’ll all be rightly disintegrated into atoms!” Indeed this was the man they were looking for: Silas Monstrosity. He was as grotesque as his name suggested, standing at least eight feet tall with a wide sloping brow, a clasping jaw filled with jagged teeth, and a muscular structure that suggested more gorilla than man, all of which was crammed into an ashy brown vest and jodhpurs as well as expert tailoring could possibly permit.

  “Uhm, sir?” a voice, belonging to yet another identically dressed henchman spoke at Silas’ side. “Do you think that perhaps this is a little….Dangerous? Couldn’t we all have just stolen all of the dynamite in the armory instead?”

  “Piffle,” Silas dismissed. Though he looked not unlike The Missing Link, he still spoke with a voice as proper as any of The Queen’s countrymen. “Kingdoms are not conquered by inventions made by pacifists like Nobel. Now hurry up and help those other men bring up the undercarriage!”

  “Yes sir, Mister Monstrosity.”