The Devil's Grin - a Crime Novel Featuring Anna Kronberg and Sherlock Holmes (10 page)

‘
Don’t know yet,’ I answered.

He wrapped one arm around my waist and pulled me close. I noticed the soapy smell and hid my smile in his shirt.

‘
You made plans for tonight?’ I asked through the gap between two button holes.

‘
Think so,’ he said softly and pushed the door to the house open.

Together we entered my small room and with his hand resting on the small of my back, he toed the door shut and took a step forward to push me against the wall. He did that carefully. After all, his weight was about three times mine. If he’d wanted, he could squish me like an insect but most certainly that thought
had never touched his brain.

He helped me
undo the countless buttons on my dress, inhaled a sigh as he peeled it off the black sateen corset. His fingers searched for the corset’s secret opening and I heard his heart thumping wildly as the silk ribbons whispered through the small metal eyes. Tense with anticipation, I listened at the rustling of hands on fabric and the staccato of his breath against my skin.

It was so much easier to get his clothes off; I wasn’t even aware of what my hands were doing until we both were naked. Impatience ignited his eyes and he pressed himself against me and lifted me up without effort. My mouth found his and I wrapped my legs around his waist and urged myself upon him.

In the mirror across the room I saw his broad back glistening in the candle light, and both, man and light moved rhythmically. To me, all about him was gen
tle and rough at the same time and every so often, he with his orange mane and his coarse tongue and paws, made me think of a lion.

~~~

The candle had almost burned down. Its flickering light painted golden sparks into the curls on his chest. I rolled them around my index finger, lazily, again and again. His ribcage moved up and down - a slow and calming rhythm, and my thoughts started to gallop freely.

I imagined living a normal life. I knew these thoughts were a waste of my time. And yet, I needed to think them, as an experiment of
ifs
and
whys
that always brought me back to where I was now.

I had chosen a life in disguise because I wanted to practice medicine. I was the only female medical doctor in London. Not officially, though.

What a man had I become! I was so accomplished in speaking, walking, behaving like a man, that no one ever doubted my sex.

I had split my life in two: the male half, which I maintained during the day - Dr Anton Kronberg, renowned bacteriologist; and my female half at night - Anna Kronberg, a rather fragile looking nurse with a progressively short haircut. But as I lived in the slums where most people made a living with illegal activities, my hacked off hair didn’t really qualify for gossip. My relationship with Garret didn’t, either.

Garret
stirred and drew his hand over my back. His face turned towards me and his breath washed over my face. I kissed him and sat up.

‘
Isn’t it time?’ I wondered.

‘
Huh?’

‘
Thieving activities, Garret. It’s past midnight.’

‘
Not tonight,’ he mumbled and his gaze fell on my abdomen, his hand followed. He traced the long scar with his fingers and said frowning: ‘When will ya tell me?’

I pushed his hand away and rose to my feet, ignoring the question.

‘
Goddammit Anna!’ he groaned, ‘you’re trustin’ me enough to fuck ya and not break ya, but anythin’ else is locked up in that big head o’ yours!’

‘
Shut up Garret,’ I replied quietly, ‘I hate it when you call it
fucking
.’

‘
What’s it then? Ya wouldn’ even think o’ marryin’ me.’

‘
Aren’t you a hypocrite,’ I hissed at him, his quizzical expression told me he didn’t know what the word
hypocrite
meant. I didn’t bother explaining. ‘Do you suddenly worry about morals, Garret? Could it be? It is perfectly fine for you to burgle houses and hurt anyone who’s between you and the loot, but lying with me without us being husband and wife is wrong?’

He stared at me, not knowing what to say. It had taken him a while to accept that I did not care to be married. I knew I shouldn’t impose marriage on anyone. Not with me as a wife. I couldn’t even bear children.

‘
I
never
lied to ya!’ He protested.

I gazed at him until his eyes had lost the brutish glint and then answered: ‘Did I ever lie to you? I never pretended I could give you more. On our first night together I told you I wouldn’t be able to answer all your questions. I told you there are things I can not share.’

‘
Ya
never tell the reasons,’ he croaked.

‘
No, I don’t,’ I whispered, and touched his cheek with my fingertips. He looked hurt and about to capitulate.

‘
Garret, you are my best friend. Isn’t that enough?’

He picked up my hand and gazed at it, kissed my palm, contemplated for a moment, and then growled: ‘No, it isn’t.’

I was about to push myself away as he, all of a sudden, pulled me closer, wrapped his arms around me, and hoisted me back onto his body. He moulded me onto his chest and fit his mouth onto mine. His helplessness had made him desperate and hungry.

~~~

Half an hour later the door clicked quietly and Garret tiptoed down the creaking stairs. I sat in my bed and could not bear the itch of the wordless peck he had left on my cheek.

I poured water into the wash bowl and scrubbed my face before washing everything else, then towelled myself off, and pulled the night gown over my head. It fell down to my feet with a rustle.

I quenched my thirst with the water I had left, fetched the tobacco pouch, a bottle of brandy, and a glass.

Sitting in my old armchair, I rolled the tobacco into a fragile piece of cigarette paper and flicked my tongue across it, struck a match on the floor, leaned back, and sucked the smoke into my lungs. The rest of it curled to the ceiling.

Garret would soon have enough of me, I was certain. Our relationship had always been too unidentified for him – it was neither fish nor meat. He had called it “
fucking
” and that irked me. But why should it?

Yes, why should it.

I wiped the thought away.

The brandy burned itself down my throat and my mind wandered to Guy’s hospital. I had worked there since the day I had arrived in London four years ago.

I smiled at the memories of sweet Mary Higgins. She worked as a nurse one floor above my ward and had been showing me affection for more than half a year without me ever returning it. After a while she had gotten desperate and followed me down to my basement laboratory on a late evening. I
had heard her approach from behind and as I turned around it was already too late. She was so close, all she needed to do was to lean in and place a wet kiss on my lips.

She did taste good, I noticed as I pushed her away, begging her to regain reason. I hated hurting her and wondered if that kiss could land her in jail, too. Probably not, as she did not know I was a woman.

Living disguised as a man had given me a radically broader view on humanity.
Man
kind! I could observe men and women in their roles, while adopting the one or the other disguise and enter either world of social restrictions and behaviour. Sometimes I felt the insane urge to tell them all to cross-dress. How would the world change?, I wondered.

I did wonder rather too much and had always asked too many questions. Maybe my motive for becoming a scientist was to find reason in all this chaos - I never felt I belonged to the human race.

I rolled a second cigarette and poured another brandy. The night was getting chilly. I hugged my knees and gazed at the ceiling.

Holmes invaded my calm mind then. How strange the man was, I thought and almost had to snort. Was it not me, who was the oddity?

I buried my face in my hands as the facts rolled over me: I was a woman who masqueraded as a man. I was a scientist and a medical doctor who was occasionally consulted by Scotland Yard. And I was trying to solve a crime of which the Yard had no knowledge
, and working on that same case with Sherlock Holmes, while fucking a highly accomplished thief, who believed I was a nurse. And I owned a penis on straps, which now lay wrapped in a towel inside my doctor’s bag.

I tipped the brandy into my mouth, flicked the cigarette into the fireplace, and again accepted the fact that I was not normal.

I wondered onto which shore life would puke me up some day.

~~~

I was attending to patients as Wallace McFadin showed up, red faced again. But this time he was excited.

‘
Dr
Kronberg!’ He called from the entrance of the ward. I gestured to him to be quiet; one can not just run into a room full of sick and half asleep patients.

‘
My apologies! Me and another student, Farley, we found something!’

He rummaged in his pockets to extract a small piece of paper.

‘
You said we should observe everything, to find out about the history. The man you dissected a week ago - Farley and I had his right lower arm and hand for today's anatomy lesson. The others got all the other parts and I saw his head and torso, so I knew it was him.’

McFadin was talking rather fast.

‘
So, we started dissecting his hand, he still had it balled up into a fist, and then we found this!’

He waved the piece of paper in front of my nose; the sweet stench of decomposition, combined with creosote was wafting off it. I took the note from him; one word was written on it in thick smudgy letters:

‘
He used a small piece of charcoal
. Interesting, Mr McFadin, thank you very much.’

‘
Do you think you can find out where he came from, or who he was?’

I shook my head
. ‘I don't think so. I don't think that he had all his bearings together as he wrote that note, I'm not even sure what it means. But I'll give it some thought and let you know if I can find anything of interest.’

McFadin looked a
little disappointed, but still proud to have found the note. I went to my office and prepared a wire to Holmes “
Found something. If interested meet at seven at Carole’s, The Strand, AK”

~~~

I sat at a small table in the back with a candle providing some light, waiting. As it reached twenty past seven my stomach was grumbling something unintelligible at me and I decided to order my dinner. At that very moment Holmes walked in and sat down, looking curious.

‘
I know you are fairly busy with much more interesting things than this
odd case of mine,’ I said and he answered with a frown.

‘
Honestly
, Mr Holmes, I'm sure the criminal world holds countless more intriguing mysteries that this one. However, this may add some information; given you have a clue what it could mean?’

I unfolded the note
; he took it out of my hand and stared at it with eyebrows pulled together.

‘
A student of mine found it during his anatomy lessons.’

He
opened his mouth to speak, but I cut across. ‘He and another student dissected Big Boots’s right hand.’

Holmes’s face flushed in excitement and he
slapped his hand on the table. Darkness fell. A loud clatter told us the silverware had jumped off the ledge.

‘
My apologies
.’ He struck a match and moved the flame towards the wick. I noticed the contrast of warm light against silver grey eyes and turned my gaze away.