Avalon Revisited (19 page)

I dressed quickly and went downstairs to be with Victor. He looked at me with suspicion for a moment before remembering himself. He smiled, “Suits you,” he said cheekily, indicating the copper uniform.. There was definitely something about him I didn’t trust. Something had changed. Plus he’d not hidden the fact that he did not trust me either. That coupled with his jealousy over Avalon made things quite tense between us. Still, we’d keep up appearances for her, and to solve this mystery.

Avalon joined us, and she looked perfectly edible in the police uniform. The trousers showed off the shapeliness of her legs, something that full skirts hid altogether. Scandalous, really, if anyone knew she was actually a woman. Although in her thirties, her smooth skin and lack of a beard would betray her disguise. A fine woman like Avalon couldn’t easily pass for a man, even a young man.

“Put this on,” Victor said, handing her a mustache. “You, too,” he said to me. “You both look too young. Got a mirror?” Victor asked me with a gleam in his eye.

“Don’t find much use for them,” I said calmly. “Vanity and all.”

“I see,” he said, skeptically.

“Still I could have Cecil dig one up for you.”

“No need,” he said, then turned to Avalon. “Let me help you with that.” Victor went to her and helped glue it into place. He did the same for me. When he finished, he looked me deeply in the eyes. There was definite suspicion there, and I returned it in kind. He adjusted his sleeve and, with a twist of his wrist, squirted me directly in the face with what I can only assume to be holy water. Hadn’t we already done this dance?

“Victor!” Avalon exclaimed.

“Sorry old chap,” he said, offering me a handkerchief. “Faulty trigger.”

“You must tend to that, Victor,” I said, not hiding my own annoyance at the display, “One needs to have reliable equipment when dealing with the supernatural.”

“Indeed,” he said. He never took his eyes off of me.

So. He did suspect me again. No question about that now. I wiped my face dry with the proffered handkerchief and stuffed it into Victor’s breast pocket with a little more force than necessary.

“Shall we?” Victor motioned us toward the door. He wanted me ahead of him, so he could keep an eye on me.

“What about weapons?” Avalon asked. “Are we not to be armed?”

“I have everything we’ll need here,” he said, picking up a black satchel I hadn’t noticed before. “It would look rather suspicious to be armed with these weapons while dressed as police.

We’ll just keep them with us until we find out what we can from the crime scene. We’ll be hunting tonight.”

“Thomas!” I called, as we entered the foyer. But he didn’t come down the stairs; rather, he opened the front door.

“M’lord. The carriage is ready, m’lord.”

“Thank you, Thomas. To Gray’s Inn by that brothel. You know the one? In the papers and such,” I said, making it clear he wasn’t to let on that he’d been there before.

“I think I know where it is, m’lord,” he replied. He didn’t give any indication that he had taken me there numerous times. Good man.

“But a few blocks away, Thomas,” I said, helping Avalon into the carriage. “We mustn’t be too conspicuous. After you,” I said to Victor.

“No, I insist,” he replied.

Yes. Suspicious.

I climbed in and sat quite close to Avalon. For such a small carriage, it was a pleasant necessity. Victor sat opposite of us, and he didn’t take his eye off me for the entire trip to Gray’s Inn. A few blocks from the brothel, as instructed, Thomas stopped the carriage.

“It will likely be disorganized there, so if we get separated, meet back here in two hours.,”

Victor said, looking at his pocket watch. “That gives us until eight o’clock. Agreed?”

Avalon and I nodded. After all, Victor would take the obvious lead with Avalon being a woman and me, I always prefered to fade into the background anyway.

We got off and walked to the brothel where we blended in with the bustling about. Avalon stuck close to me, to my great delight, and we were separated from Victor shortly after arrival.

He was right. It was chaos here. Police everywhere one looked. Twice the number that was here a few nights ago when I had first run into Victor and Avalon in the alley across the street.

They’ve stepped up their investigation. I caught sight of a few newspaper reporters. No surprise.

The press was milking these “vampire” killings for all they were worth. I heard the price of garlic had quickly escalated over the past week. Leave it to the press to incite panic and control the free market.

“Never seen nuthin’ like it.” I heard to my left, so I guided Avalon over with me. We stood nearby and pretended to be going over some notes of our own as I listened in.

“There’s hardly nuthin’ left to ‘em,” the same voice said.

“They were quite small to begin with,” another voice added, “just children, really.” He was older than the first. Big man. Overweight. Thick mustache. Hair greying.

“It’s disgustin’,” the first voice said. “It’s they that shoulda been killed, not them girls.”

“I somehow think they’re at peace now. That was no life for them.” My thoughts exactly.

Perhaps I wasn’t so inhuman after all. Perhaps it's just the cynicism of old age.

“Did ya hear? That one girl was daughter t’Theodore Cadman,” the younger said. He looked new. Shiny badge. Perfectly pressed uniform. And there was a kind of excitement mixed with the horror in his eyes.

“The magistrate?”

“The very same. Kidnapped righ’ from her room, the parents say. Been lookin’ fer her fer weeks. And all that time she’s been up’n here. Criminal. That’s what’t is. That Jeffries woman, that’s who we need t’arrest.”

“Sure, if we could find her.”

“Why don’ we close this place down?” the first asked. The young are so idealistic. They see everything as a simple fix.

“Good question. Something political, no doubt.” Yep. Cynicism. Or I prefer to call it wisdom.

“It jus’ ain’ righ’.”

That’s for sure.

A third man joined them.

“Heya Sarge,” the first voice said. “Any news?” The young copper stood a little straighter when ‘Sarge’ approached. The older man didn’t bother.

“Nothing we didn’t already know. The inspector has been from one end of the place to the other. He’s in there now questioning them who’s left. They’re all pretty shook up, as one could imagine.”

“How long we have to be here, Sarge?” the older officer asked.

“Get comfortable, lads. This’ll be an all-nighter.” ‘Sarge’ strode confidently toward the brothel.

Avalon began to follow him into the building, and I followed her. She slipped in without a glance, and before I knew it, we were in the same room I had been just a few nights ago. The same old woman sat in the same old chair, now opposite a thin man with a bushy mustache. I could only assume he was the inspector to whom the constables were referring. Across the room, three older prostitutes cowered together, crying. By older I mean in their twenties and thirties.

“As I told you before, Inspector, we get all kinds in here. Young and old. Rich and the not so rich. Everyone has their vices. Young girls is it for many a gent. I tell you now. Many a gent,” the old woman said. No judgment, just the acceptance of a rather sick truth.

“Two, well three murders in as many days. This is no coincidence. Not even a little. Who came in last night? Anyone look suspicious?”

“They’s all look suspicious, Gov’. Most don’t even show their faces. Same stuff I told you the other day, Inspector. All due respect, but this is no ordinary man doin’ this. He’s a monster, he is.”

“All due respect, madam, anyone who comes into this establishment as a customer is a monster.”

She set her jaw and didn’t respond. Acceptance.

A scream down the hall made the inspector look up at us.

“Don’t just stand there, lads. Go check that out!” he ordered us. Avalon and I rushed down the hall to find Victor and a woman in tears standing next to a body mostly covered by a sheet.

Victor had her roughly by the arm and was holding up one end of the sheet forcing the woman to look at the bloody mess beneath it.

“What’s going on?” Avalon said, deepening her voice slightly. How delightful.

“It nothing. She doesn’t know anything,” Victor replied. Then a light went on somewhere inside Victors head, and it reflected in his features. He spun the woman around roughly and ripped off my mustache.

“Ow!” I said.

“Do you know this man?” Victor asked the girl, already traumatized now looked quite horrified at Victor’s rough use of her.

“Victor!” Avalon said. “How dare you!” She grabbed Victor’s arm and tried to pry his hand off the girl, but he wouldn't budge.

“No, m’lord. I don’t know him. Never seen him.” Victor looked again defeated. He pushed her and Avalon away roughly. The girl took the opportunity to run back toward the sitting room, probably to join the other cowering whores.

“What are you playing at, Victor?” I said, snatching my disguise back from him. “Do you want us all to get arrested? Convicted, more like, for impersonating police?” I put the mustache back on, and Avalon straightened it, smiling at me. An apologetic smile. Victor was a handful.

“Something’s not right with you, York. I’m going to find out what it is,” Victor said, jamming his finger into my chest.

I took a step toward him menacingly until we were nose to nose. “I could say the same about you, Dawson,” I hissed.

Avalon physically pushed us apart and stepped between us this time, putting a hand against each of our chests. “Stop it!” she said. “Stop it now. Victor,” she continued, turning to him,

“don’t you think we have enough to worry about. Whatever personal problem you have with Arthur can wait until after these things are caught. All right?”

Victor’s expression went from anger to defeat to embarrassment, and then circled back to anger. Poor guy didn’t know what to feel. Or what to do. His behavior was that of a desperate man. Desperate to stop these murders, but also desperate because he knew he was losing Avalon to me. Losing her. Of course, he had never had her, not in that sense. But she was his best friend.

He must have felt very lonely since I had come into their lives. Add to that his suspicion of me.

Yes. I’d say he was desperate.

“You’re right, Avalon. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me,” he said, and then he stormed past us both and down the hall.

“I apologize for his behavior, Arthur. I’ve seen a different side to Victor these past days. I’m not quite sure who this new, angry person is. Before this case, he was so gentle and understanding. Funny even.”

There was sadness in her eyes. The concern for a friend. I hadn’t had one of those for so long. I mean, there was Nicholas, but that was more two men sharing conquests. There was no true affection between us. But her look reminded me of what it was like. The helplessness that comes with the realization that one cannot help.

“Oi!” Victor’s voice came from an adjoining room. We followed the sound.

“What is it?” Avalon asked when we found him two rooms down. Another body covered in a bloody sheet lay on the bed. Victor was on his hands and knees reaching beneath the bed.

“This,” he said. He held up a strange mechanical device that looked as though it was supposed to be strapped to one’s wrist or perhaps forearm. Clockwork-like gears intricately fitted together made up the bulk of the mechanical part. The thing was also wrapped with wire that connected one piece to another. It all was quite strange to me, although it did remind me a little of Cecil’s bloodletting device. Then all this new technology did, as I knew so very little about it.

Turning it over, Victor examined every part of the bizarre cuff. Beneath the mechanical parts was a leather band with buckles and leather straps to affix the thing to one’s forearm. One of the straps had pulled loose from its stitching, likely why it was under the bed. Perhaps its owner didn’t even know he had lost it until after he had left. Too busy decimating these bodies, I’d say.

“What is it?” she repeated, referring to the strange device.

“I recognize this work. At least, it’s similar to what I’ve--never mind.” Victor pocketed the piece and looked under the bed for more. He found nothing else.

“What, Victor? Tell us,” Avalon said.

“Not until I’m sure,” he replied, standing. With that, Victor left us alone in the room again.

Quite strange.

We didn’t see Victor again until the rendezvous back at my carriage at eight o’clock. He was inside, examining his find and had already changed out of his constable uniform, which now lay crumpled on the floor. If you ask me, this case was making him mad. Or at least it was revealing the madman who already resided within.

“What was all that back there,” Avalon asked concerned. She wrung her hands and looked at me, then back at Victor. She, too, was worried for his mental state. I could see it in her face. In her furrowed brow. But who wouldn’t be with this erratic behavior?

“This,” he said, holding up the gadget like it was a valuable treasure. The intensity in his eyes sent a chill down my spine, not an easy thing to do. “This is the key.”

“The key to what?” Avalon asked. She climbed into the coach and sat opposite Victor. I followed her lead.

“To this case, of course!” Victor snapped.

“Are you going to share this revelation with us, Victor, or are you keeping it to yourself?”

Avalon sounded more than a little cross now. She sat with her arms folded over her chest. Her stern expression coming out from behind that ridiculous mustache endeared her to me even more. Oh! So many centuries without love! The first time since my beloved Catherine, and I’m knocked over by it.

Victor jumped out of the coach. “You two get changed. I’ll sit with Thomas and direct him where we’re going. It won’t be a long ride, so don’t dally.”

“But, Victor,” Avalon protested. Worry creeping back in. His behavior and movements were so erratic. So sudden. It was quite unsettling.

“Don’t worry, Ava, I’m sure Arthur here won’t peek,” he said with a cynical grin and then slammed the brougham door. We felt the carriage bounce as he joined Thomas on the coachman’s bench.