The Frankenstein Murders (10 page)

For two months, Victor Frankenstein had been living on a small and remote island in the Orkneys, Scotland. On the evening of Henry Clerval's murder, Frankenstein, an accomplished sailor, had gone sailing on his own. Magistrate Kirwin deduced that Frankenstein had intended to meet his friend Henry Clerval and kill him. After having done away with his friend, Frankenstein left the body on the shore near the town of Larne and immediately returned to the sea.

Victor Frankenstein was then taken into the room where the body of Henry Clerval had been placed in order that the Magistrate and others might see the result, if any, of the sight of it would have on Mr. Frankenstein. Mr. Frankenstein, upon recognizing the dead man as his friend Henry Clerval, went immediately into strong convulsions and had to be carried from the room. A doctor was sent for.

There is every reason for the incident to be considered a premeditated crime, as it is not possible that the death was due to natural causes. Henry Clerval was a fit and healthy young man in the prime of his life, and clear signs of violence were evident upon his person. Victor Frankenstein remains imprisoned, but an official hearing will not take place until his fever and rantings have subsided.

The September murder of Mr. Henry Clerval, a gentleman of Geneva, has not yet been solved, and it appears that it will not be for some time. The one person, Victor Frankenstein, thought to have committed the crime, has been absolved of the murder and no other suspects have been identified. Henry Clerval's lifeless body had been found on the shore near the town of Larne, Ireland, by fishermen returning home late one night. Mr. Victor Frankenstein, also of Geneva and friend to the murdered man, was charged with the murder. The court waited on Victor Frankenstein to recover from an illness before beginning his trial.

After having been notified by Magistrate Kirwin, the authority in charge, Mr. Alphonse Frankenstein, Victor Frankenstein's father, journeyed from Geneva to be with his son. Victor Frankenstein had been insensible for some time following a collapse and fever. While waiting for his son's recovery, Mr. Alphonse Frankenstein began his own inquiry into the death of Henry Clerval. After some time, Mr. Alphonse Frankenstein brought forward Shelaigh Connelly, from the Orkney Islands in Scotland. Miss Connelly deposed that she had seen Mr. Victor Frankenstein in the Orkneys at the time that Henry Clerval was murdered.

The circumstances connected with the death of Henry Clerval cannot be said to have been entirely resolved by the inquest, but sufficient evidence, in the form of witnesses who have come forth, has been gathered to prove the innocence of Henry Clerval's travelling companion,
Victor Frankenstein. The grand jury rejected the bill immediately upon it being proved that Victor Frankenstein was in the Orkney Islands at the hour that Henry Clerval's body was found. Victor Frankenstein has returned to Geneva and the murder remains unsolved.

I entered the room where the corpse lay and was led up to the coffin. How can I describe my sensations on beholding it? I feel yet parched with horror, nor can I reflect on that terrible moment without shuddering and agony. The examination, the presence of the magistrate and witnesses, passed like a dream from my memory when I saw the lifeless form of Henry Clerval stretched before me. I gasped for breath, and throwing myself upon the body, I exclaimed, “Have my murderous machinations deprived you also, my dearest Henry, of life? Two I have already destroyed; other victims await their destiny; but you Clerval, my friend, my benefactor —”

While still in Scotland awaiting the morning when I should depart for Ireland, I examined yet again Robert Walton's journal, as well as the letters and other documents I had collected thus far. I read and examined as much as I was able while travelling by coach, but the cramped dark space was rarely conducive to the activity. The texts sent by Sir Arthur Gray have left my head filled with theories and concepts of natural science, and yet, like him, I can find no specific items that would lead me to understand that unimaginable feat that Victor Frankenstein claims to have accomplished.

In Walton's journal, details about Frankenstein's creations are obscure at best. Frankenstein provides no specific information or clear explanation of what he created or how he created it. Although Frankenstein's justification for this lack of detail is his concern that others not make the same mistake as he, it is exactly this lack of specifics that makes the monster even more terrible. What could be more awful than an imagined monster? No description Victor Frankenstein might have provided could be nearly so horrifying as that which lives in the imagination. In this way, Frankenstein provided a monster terrifying not only to Robert Walton, but to all who might read the journal; the obscure, the dark, and the unknown are frightening. Fear increases at night when we cannot perceive what is there before us, but can only imagine what it might be.

The supernatural is steeped in obscurity, and popular tales of supernatural sightings, of ghosts and goblins and whatever, only contain shadowy and misty sightings by lone witnesses. In this way, that which the witness believes he has seen can never be clearly identified and thus rendered even more frightening. Frankenstein, a man of science, presented his creation in a similar manner, entirely unscientific, and so never disproven. Am I investigating a scientific discovery or a ghost story, or merely a myth of the scientific age? Victor Frankenstein not only embraced the concepts of Paracelsus, Albertus Magnus, and Agrippa, he went further and attempted to duplicate fully the work of nature. If indeed Victor Frankenstein was successful, he went beyond scientific inquiry; he created a miracle of monstrous proportions.

I asked my Kirkwall landlord about the Connelly's use of the word “fetch.” He explained to me that a “fetch” is a double or twin that comes to take you to your death. Could Auld Liam's daughter have been referring to the monster? Had she and the rest of her family in fact seen someone like I had mentioned, for certainly the monster's behaviour would have been threatening and menacing, and by Victor Frankenstein's description, it had every appearance of a creature from Hell come to take people away. The temptation is great to return to that island and demand that they answer my questions, but I fear the effort would again be fruitless and that any further delay might jeopardize my meeting with Captain Walton.

To my great fortune, the same boatman who guided me to the most northern part of the Orkneys also agreed to take me to Ireland. My one concern was that, like Victor Frankenstein, I would encounter rough seas. In the hours it took to sail from Mainland to Ireland, we were favoured with good winds, and so the voyage was fortunately neither overly rough nor particularly disquieting. We met with but a few other sailing craft, and at a distance that did not allow me to see more than the shape of those on-board.

This leg of the investigation will begin with an interview of Magistrate Kirwin, who not only was the authority in charge of Victor Frankenstein's arrest and detention, but who also spent a great deal of time with him. Mutt shall locate Daniel Nugent and his fellow fisherman, and also the woman who was Victor Frankenstein's nurse as he lay insensible in jail. Mutt arrived in town before me, and in his travels he asked around about Henry Clerval, but no one seems to have seen him alive. How Henry Clerval travelled the remarkable distance from Scotland to Ireland remains a complete mystery. A Perth coachman believed he remembered having someone resembling Henry Clerval in his coach until Aberdeen, however, Mutt was unable to find anyone in Aberdeen who could testify to having seen Henry Clerval. Would that Henry had had a more vivacious character in order that he be more memorable in the minds of those with whom he met and spoke.

Freame,

While I am not unaware of your efforts towards solving this case, I feel I must also point to the fact that initial progress can only be described as slow. Although a certain degree of delay is to be expected in an investigation of this magnitude and history, I would, however, impress upon you the need to maintain a sense of urgency. The delays in solving Henry Clerval's murder have been many, and the grief felt by George Clerval and his family remains present. The need to find a speedy and satisfactory end to this investigation cannot be emphasized too much.

My agents in France have yet to provide any definite information on the DeLacey family. One agent has heard of a man who fit the description of the DeLacey father, but the man was unmarried and, consequently, childless. His family name was DeL'Encre. Of the woman Safie and her merchant father, no trace has been found. I have impressed upon the Paris office the same urgency which I have impressed upon you. Should any new information be uncovered, it shall be sent to you directly.

A letter of introduction has been sent to Magistrate Kirwin so that he might expect you and know that you are there working on
behalf of our firm. Linger not in Ireland as George Clerval is expectant of your immanent arrival in Geneva.

Sir Arthur Gray

The door to Magistrate Kirwin's offices was easily identified as his name and position had been engraved on a large and brightly polished brass plate nailed upon the door. When I stepped from the street, a clerk all but leapt to his seat and came to my side; he was one of three clerks, each perched upon a stool from where he leant over a thick ledger in which he had been making careful entries. With a high quavering voice, the clerk greeted me and professed, in a series of incomplete sentences, his complete and sincere solicitations for my continued good health. Before I could properly state my business, he beckoned me to follow him to the magistrate's own office.

Not waiting for a response to his staccato rap on the door, the clerk ushered me into Magistrate Kirwin's office. Inside, the magistrate was in conference with another man, both of whom rose immediately upon my entry, looks of astonishment upon their faces, no doubt due to the sudden and unannounced intrusion. Magistrate Kirwin made as if to begin introductions, but halted seemingly at a loss as to how to commence. To aid the magistrate, I removed my hat and took a step forward with the intention of introducing myself. Rather than setting the magistrate at ease, my gesture seemed to discomfort the man even more, prompting a rather erratic twitching of his eyebrows as the fingers of one of his
hands began to play nervously upon the shiny buttons of his ornate waistcoat. The magistrate's companion looked from one of us to the other and then quickly excused himself without ever having given his name

Victor Frankenstein described Magistrate Kirwin as an old, benevolent man with calm and mild manners; however, I met an agitated man with nervous and erratic behaviour. Physically, the magistrate had a ruddy complexion and a short neck, and was also quite portly. His fine waistcoat was intricately embellished, and a great gold watch chain hung suspended before his ample stomach. He also wore a number of rings set with large stones, and his wig and shoes were quite new. To my eye, he seemed to wish to affect a style rather more in the fashion of a court dandy than a town magistrate.

Following the incomprehensible waving of his hands and the muttering of words, which I was left to interpreted as some form of greeting, the magistrate regained his seat behind the desk while I took a chair across from his. It had not escaped my notice that the room was furnished in large and ornate pieces, which, judging by the more exotic nature of the woods used, had been shipped from overseas. This included the desk, with an intricate mosaic inlay top and the matching chair with thick velvet cushioning. Otherwise, the room was unremarkable; the wall covering had yellowed slightly with age, and the uneven floorboards were scuffed and scarred.

I spoke to Magistrate Kirwin, expressing my hope he would permit me to forego elaborate civilities and move directly to the reason for my meeting with him. My purpose today was to ask him a few questions about the murder of Henry Clerval and the subsequent arrest of Victor Frankenstein. I told him, as he was the official responsible for the inquiry into Henry Clerval's murder and someone who met both Victor and Alphonse Frankenstein, it was my hope to gain from him much needed clarification regarding certain elements of the murder.

The magistrate looked more than a little bewildered, frankly quite astounded, and again I had to wonder if either he had not in fact received Sir Arthur Gray's letter or perhaps there was something amiss with the rightness of his mind. The magistrate was not a young man, but he did not generally have the appearance of someone whose mental capacities had become diminished as might happen with age. Nevertheless, he did not respond well to either my arrival or introduction, and I wondered if I should have in fact been less forward.

I informed the magistrate that I was in Ireland on behalf of the father, hoping that the information might improve the increasingly awkward situation.

“Alphonse Frankenstein sent you?” the magistrate could not hide his astonishment.

I explained that Alphonse Frankenstein had died a few months after he and Victor returned to Geneva. I clarified that it was Mr. George Clerval, the victim's father, who had requested my inquiry.