The Frankenstein Murders (7 page)

It is unfortunate that I have not yet had the chance to meet Captain Walton, for to speak with him would lead me to know better the man who documented Frankenstein's story. Thankfully, I do not foresee that this minor deviance from my formulated plan of action shall cause a disruption of any significance, as it is yet early in the investigation. Once the Captain has situated himself in Archangel, I will meet with him there. Captain Walton will require a great deal
of time to travel north, and, prior to that voyage, time to gather together all necessities. It took him some seven months to organize his first voyage. Walton's latest voyage to the north will involve at least as much planning and preparation. My calculations assure me I will be able to journey to Scotland, Ireland, Geneva, and even Ingolstadt, only to arrive in Archangel well before Captain Walton has sailed.

Through interviews with those who met and knew him, I expect to draw a more evolved portrait of Victor Frankenstein, the teller of this tale and the central figure in all the misfortune. My efforts will be to understand his character, first through his story as told to Robert Walton. Victor presents himself as brilliant and passionate, yet also highly secretive and with a self-confessed violent temper, which belies the kindly tone that dominates his story. Victor Frankenstein was also in possession of complete knowledge of the murders, and so to the definition of his nature can be added the assessment that he was secretive, haunted, perhaps leading two lives. There is but little evidence of natural poetical or social element to his nature, qualities he admired in his cousin Elizabeth, Henry Clerval, and even Robert Walton.

There is no doubt in my mind that the meeting between Captain Walton and Victor Frankenstein was remarkable; how fortuitous was it that such complimentary minds should meet under such extraordinary circumstances in one of the most remote and unforgiving places on the face of the earth. One can see there was much in Captain Robert Walton to please Victor Frankenstein. Walton had tried his luck as a poet, just as Henry Clerval had done. Victor Frankenstein was drawn to poets and the poetic. Robert Walton also studied mathematics, theories of medicine, and physical science. Yet, even with this not insignificant connection between the men, Victor Frankenstein resisted sharing the scientific details of the creation of his monster. A more educated and sympathetic audience than Robert Walton could hardly be imagined. To Victor Frankenstein, Robert Walton confessed that he
preferred glory to
every enticement wealth places in his path.
Similarly, until his hideous progeny came to life, Victor Frankenstein was motivated by the thought of the glory he would attain as the man who could bring the dead to life:
A new species would bless me as its creator and source.

It is from the conversations between Walton and Frankenstein that the story of the latter's life and Henry Clerval's death is told. When Victor Frankenstein and Henry Clerval journeyed to London, they first met in Strasbourg, travelling together from there until they reached England at the end of December. After remaining in London for a few months, they embarked upon a leisurely tour of England, reaching Scotland by the spring. They parted after one week together in Edinburgh; Henry to stay with a friend in Perth, Victor to continue farther north to the Orkney Islands, there to find the solitude he coveted for the execution of his task — the making of a second creature as companion for the first.

My arrival in Edinburgh was unexceptional and entailed securing a place to lodge, one that served both as an inn and coach house. A notice outside announced the eight-day journey from Edinburgh to London leaving Mondays and Fridays at five in the morning. The posting omitted mention of the jolting ride or lack of adequate cushioning for the seats. My sole consolation was that the tavern served a hearty, if uninspired, supper.

As luck would have it, my assistant's arrival in Edinburgh was but a few hours after mine. Mutt reported that he could find no record of murders or related incidents that might be attributed to Frankenstein's monster; not in Oxford, Derby, Cumberland, Westmorland, or any of the other stops Victor and Henry had made on their way to Edinburgh. My associate's findings were as I had expected, although I had maintained some hope for more. I was, however, heartened to discover in Mutt's possession those items I most wished to receive from London. Mutt had brought with him a letter from Sir Arthur Gray, as well as the selection of texts I desired. These
are the same works consulted by Victor Frankenstein, and from whence he developed his ability to bring life from death. Through the careful reading of these texts, I expect to understand better the mysterious work undertaken by Victor Frankenstein while in attendance at university. Again, I felt my luck. When we returned from supper, the innkeeper handed me a letter from Lyall Peacock.

From Edinburgh, Mutt and I shall together travel on to Perth, where I shall interview Lyall Peacock, one of the last people known to have seen Henry before he was murdered. Once I have spoken with Lyall Peacock, I shall travel alone to the Orkney Islands, where I shall examine Victor Frankenstein's cottage and interview the island's residents. Mutt shall meanwhile follow what he can of Henry Clerval's trail to Ireland. This task shall be no easier than his trip from London to Edinburgh, but will have a much greater chance of his discovery of someone who saw either Henry Clerval, or perhaps even Victor Frankenstein's creature.

Freame,

My agents in France will soon receive notice of the inquiries they are to undertake as part of this investigation for George Clerval. I send with your associate William Moutton the books you requested. I will make the effort to provide you with a general understanding of the three men — Albertus Magnus, Paracelsus, and Agrippa — whose writings so greatly influenced Victor Frankenstein.

Albertus Magnus was born circa 1200 AD, but I am not certain of his lifespan. He was, at various times in his life, a scholar, a bishop, a teacher, a theologian, and also a naturalist. His reputation held him to be a man of extraordinary genius and extensive learning. He was known to be a proficient student of nature. He was well-read in physics, geography, astronomy, mineralogy, chemistry or alchemy, zoology, physiology, and phrenology.

Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombast von Hohenheim, often referred to as Paracelsus, was born in 1493 and died in 1541. He had a high degree of understanding and proficiency in the areas of alchemy, surgery, and medicine; he developed from his understanding of these areas the ambition of curing diseases by medicines superior to the ones used during his time. I have no
exact information as to whether this ambition was realized. Paracelsus was said to have performed chemical operations, and to have advocated an unusual principle in which it was demonstrated that salt, mercury, and sulphur formed a sort of trinity in all substance. It would seem that Paracelsus ultimately abandoned experimental research and sought within his mind to unravel the secrets of alchemy.

Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa von Nettesheim was a German who lived from 1486 to 1535. Like Magnus, Agrippa had a number of professions in his lifetime: secret agent, soldier, physician, orator, law professor, mystic, and alchemist. He established a secret society in Paris devoted to astrology, magic, and the Kabbalah. He wrote
De Occulta Philosophiae
— what might be considered a philosophical defence of diverse mystical traditions. Agrippa also wrote
De Incertitudine et Vanitate Scientiarum Atque Artium Declamatio Invectiva
(Declamation Attacking the Uncertainty and Vanity of the Sciences and the Arts), which attacked scientific theory and practice.

Paracelsus, Albertus Magnus, and Cornelius Agrippa had the greatest influence on Victor Frankenstein, and it was their teachings that lead him to his own discovery. In their writings, I find a great deal of wild and, to my mind, unfounded notions related to the aims of natural science, and no practical application of these ideas. The three seem to be agreed that an alchemical and mystical element is needed for natural science to work with the greatest success. Truthfully, I can see no particular benefit from you devoting much of your energies to these writings. Whatever means Victor Frankenstein used to bring life from death, he did not get his recipe from these men. He devised it himself.

More recent thinkers and scientific discoveries would have provided Victor Frankenstein with examples of practical experimentation, such as the Italian physician, Luigi Galvani, who has made frog muscles twitch by jolting them with a spark from an
electrostatic machine. Although Victor Frankenstein mentioned the use of an electrical machine, he did not mention work such as Galvani's.

Victor Frankenstein's direct influences, Paracelsus, Albertus Magnus, and Agrippa, provided him with theories and concepts. What they also seem to have given Victor is the unpleasant aspect of the traits of independent conceit and superiority. It was these traits that led him to claim a miracle of the most monstrous proportions. One can only wonder if his creation of a monster is a true story, or Frankenstein's myth of a scientific age?

The exact details you might need for your purposes you will take from the texts now in your possession. That the texts of men such as these led Victor Frankenstein to create life from death is not evident to me. I leave the unravelling of that mystery to you. Not for the last time must I urge you to make haste. I have known George Clerval for as long as you have drawn breath, and although he is a most strong and capable man, I as his friend know that he suffers greatly each day that this investigation is prolonged. It falls upon you, Freame, to see to a quick, good, and just end.

Sir Arthur Gray

Dear Mr. Edward Freame,

How greatly the sad news of Henry's death affected me. Even after the passing of the years, I have not yet fully recovered from the shock, and often have I wondered if I was not in some small way responsible for his death. Had I only insisted on Henry's staying here with me in Perth, or had I travelled with him to the Orkneys, then perhaps my dear friend would be counted among the quick. My only consolation is that Henry was determined to depart, and maintained his resolution to the last. Nothing I did or could have done would have persuaded him to remain a day further in Perth, so great was his desire to be with his friend Victor Frankenstein.

The day before he left Perth, Henry was in good spirits, looking forward to reuniting with his friend. Among Henry's last words to me was a request that when I reached Edinburgh, I post a letter from him to his father. It was a simple request I was happy to grant him. Neither of us had at that time any idea of the consequences of Henry's trip, or we should not have parted with such light hearts. Parting from my young friend was saddening, but not nearly as much as it would have been had I known that I should never see him again.

Beyond what little I have read in the newspapers, I know few details of Henry's murder. I will gladly be of any assistance, particularly if there is a chance of making new discoveries concerning the identity of Henry's murderer. To my knowledge, the local authorities have had no success, and have long since turned their attention to other matters. After the passage of so many months, I should wonder at how much information remains available.

The loss of Henry has made me feel very lonely. He had the sweetest temper. God bless him and those most dear to him. My best respects and good wishes after you.

Truly yours,

Lyall Peacock

Lyall Peacock's manor was a widespread, oak-beamed, brick building with a fine avenue lined with trees leading up to it. My appointment was in the evening and, as thick clouds covered the near-full moon, I could only guess that the lawns and gardens matched the large and stately stone manor. As I was shown into the chamber in which Lyall Peacock sat, I could not help but notice the elegance of the decor. What I saw of the manor interior was resplendent, with tapestries and furniture covered in rich fabrics, and the light of even the smallest candle was caught and reflected in the gilt of the many picture and mirror frames. The library held a good-sized fireplace, a warm fire burning against the slight evening chill, beside which two large wing-backed chairs, each covered in a leather of deep burgundy, had been drawn up on either side. Surrounding this intimate setting were large bookshelves, with handsomely bound texts arranged upon them in an orderly fashion.

Although not completely in his dodderage, Lyall Peacock was more advanced in years, certainly by a good fifteen years, than his friend Henry Clerval would have been. Peacock had no doubt been remarkably handsome in his youth, and was still a fine looking man. Everything about him, from the perfect fit of his apparel to the particular and unique styling of his hair and dress, bespoke the
important role Peacock's valet played in the household. Yet, for all his finery, Peacock was not a proud man. His greeting of me was warm and inviting, his conversation open and genuine.

“Please, do take a seat,” Lyall Peacock encouraged me after I had been announced. Thanking him, I took the chair across from his.

“Could I persuade you to join me in a glass of brandy?” he asked me, indicating a tray at his elbow that held a fine crystal decanter filled with a rich amber liquid and two matching glasses.

I accepted his offer gladly. While he poured, I considered how best to begin our discussion. Although my greatest wish was to direct our conversation immediately to the topic of Henry Clerval, the sorrow evident in Lyall Peacock's letter made me cautious. My worries were unwarranted, for once he had taken a considerable draught from his own glass and smoothed a crease on his sleeve, Lyall Peacock spoke the first words and addressed the topic of Henry Clerval's stay in Perth.