As Reginald and Singh sat quietly in the study, Reginald’s blooms of smoke from his pipe filled the air as his mind wandered across the events that had taken place at the police station and the conversation he had shared with Marion.
Singh was equally stressed due to realising first hand how easily he was caught up in the events of the small riot. Marion sat quietly at his desk, his gaze constantly straying to his employer’s office, looking for any sign that the glass of blue ooze was being examined.
Both Reginald and Marion were avid readers of the local newspaper, both in their respective homes, opening the paper for any information concerning the corpse that presented itself at the Hyde Park police office. Only a single mention of the body was visible, the police were looking for information regarding the identity of the bandage clad man. Revealing his name as Alfred Windebank who was on board a steamship from the East Indies Steam Company.
*
Marion woke in a cold sweat, remembering distinctly the dream he had just experienced, standing in a large, cavernous space, the dim light of the lamps giving little visibility. At the end of the space, a strange figure was visible, almost rat-like in appearance, at least the size of two men, three glowing eyes visible on its face. Marion could feel its gaze scanning the space, becoming more aware of his presence, as Marion felt his safety at risk, his eyes opened. Looking at the clock, it was almost time to begin getting ready for his morning duties. Washing the sweat from his body with the washcloth and icy water he ran into the basin, he dressed himself for another long day at work.
Reginald woke from his deep and easy sleep to the lavish breakfast he was used to having served to him at the table. Joined by his wife and children, Reginald proceeded to glean the morning edition of the newspaper only to find little to no change in the requests for information regarding the situation he had been caught up in.
Finishing his breakfast, Reginald dressed himself appropriately for his daily duties, he took his leave of his wife at approximately noon and began his gentle stroll towards the Army and Navy Club that he was a member of. The brass end cap of his cane clinked gently on the stone street as he walked.
Entering the club, Reginald’s booming voice echoed across the open spaces, greeting his friends and fellow ex-military men. After handing his coat and hat to Toby Norton, an ex-soldier and fellow member of the Buffs who works at the club as a dog's body, Reginal took a seat in one of the numerous lounges, Reginald began retelling the story of the disruption in the park followed by the events of the police station. The gentlemen who were listening to the story took every chance to interrupt, doing their best to interject their own tales of war and mystery during their time on the battlefield.
Finishing his story to see several men half listening as they smoked their cigars and sipped their whisky. Shaking his head, Reginald took his leave, entering one of the gaming rooms, his voice booming again as he began to tell the story again to a new crowd.
Marion was physically agitated by his lack of involvement in the daily duties of the morgue, the body of Alfred Windebank had been laying on the autopsy table all morning. Dr Spencer entered the morgue at lunch time, immediately summoning Marion to his office, instructing Marion to write a letter of summons to Inspector Jones, including Constable Walker and anyone else who had contact with the body.
Sending out the telegrams immediately, he sent two to the police station and one to the house of Reginald, his address printed on the calling card he had given Marion. Singh immediately picked up the house phone, calling the Military and Navy Club in order to summon Reginald home, advising he had received a telegram from the police mortuary.
Excited at the news that there was information regarding the corpse, Reginald bid farewell to the club and strolled home with a spring in his step, meeting Singh at his front door, the two boarded a carriage and headed towards the Morgue. As the clock on the wall chimed for two o'clock in the afternoon, the door to the morgue burst open, Reginald pushing past assistants, exclaiming that he had been summoned. Marion stopped Reginald at the entrance to the room where the body of Mr Windebank was being kept, greeting him with a strong hand on the shoulder. Looking around, Reginald could see Inspector Jones and Constable Walker speaking in hushed low voices. Greeting Marion somewhat awkwardly, his brain doing its best to remember the name Marion amongst several other strange names he thought did not suit their owners before coming to the correct conclusion.
Demanding to know why he had been summoned, Reginald was keen to join the conversation going on behind Marion. As the two calmly entered the room, the three men and Dr Spencer ushered the men towards his office. Taking a seat behind his desk, three chairs had been placed for Inspector Jones, Walker and Reginald, Marion, as an employee was used to standing at the rear of the office.
Dr Spencer began to reveal to the room his findings regarding the autopsy he had performed on Mr Windebank, stating that his findings were important enough to summon the men to his office.
He enquired as to how the men in front of him were feeling, Dr Spencer’s tone was serious and concerned. Instructing them to report any changes to their health immediately to himself. He went on to explain there was some sort of fungal infection that was the cause of death, advising the removal of stressful activity and steady diet as the cause of death was somehow introduced into the bloodstream, resulting in small parts of the brain dissolving and being replaced with an unknown, fungal-like tissue. The tissue mimicked the activities of the brain that had been replaced. Reginald was growing more and more worried, demanding answers and asking questions at an alarming rate. Dr Spencer continued with his explanations, ignoring the interrupting gentleman as best he could.
Making it clear that the late Mr Windebank could certainly not see or hear as the parts of his brain that controlled speech, eyesight and hearing had all been replaced with the fungal growths. Marion and Reginald were both unnerved by this news as Marion was sure that he heard the man speak, “Save my Susan.”
Dr Spencer concluded his findings by advising the men to not leave London, that each man was to be isolated and that he was arranging public health inspectors to call on each of them over the coming days and weeks.
Dismissing the men from his office, he also motioned that Marion take a day or two out of the office as he needed to isolate. Before leaving the Morgue, Inspector Jones was called to the side of Dr Spencer, Marion doing his best to listen to the conversation from a distance.
Avoiding panic was the main concern, the possibility of a pandemic on his mind. Reginald pushed his way into the conversation, breaking up Dr Spencer and Inspector Jones, letting out allegations of the ridiculous disease of “Fungus Brain!”
Dismissing the men again, Dr Spencer waited for all members of the meeting to leave the main entrance before returning to his work.
Reginald and Marion watched as Inspector Jones and Constable Walker disappeared from view before starting their own conversation regarding the whereabouts of ‘Susan’. Reginald could not stop himself from drawing as much attention to himself as possible, ignoring the inquiries Marion was suggesting as he was trying to make it seem like he was suffering from some strange illness. Marion dismissed the ramblings of Reginald as purely attention seeking and sent him home, advising that he needed a large drink to calm himself. Boarding a carriage with Singh in tow, Reginald returned home, demanding his servants to make up a room for him separate from his family. Marion also returned home, heading straight for the book cases filled with medical journals and textbooks, searching for any kind of information regarding blue fungus or any encounters with fungal infections that damage the brain.
After a few hours segregated from his main house, Reginald was driving his household staff insane with his demands, drinks, food, newspapers, everything and anything to be an annoyance to them, even Signh was becoming frustrated with Reginald's attitude.
As the hours past, Marion’s search was less than helpful, nothing revealing itself within any journal or book he had in his collection. Marion picked himself up from his chair, grabbing his coat and hat, unable to think clearly in his stuffy apartment, he decided to go out for a walk to clear his head. Walking the stony streets, he was drawn to the piece of paper he found on the floor of the cell that had fallen from the pocket of the corpse. “Two passengers, 5 large crates, the Marie Louise, departing from Singapore”. Finding himself at the Library, Marion began searching the British library for any kinds of Flora and Fauna relating to Singapore and the possibility of Blue Fungal emissions and plants.
After another hour or searching Marion decided to cut his losses and exited the library, walking the streets again, absent minded and letting his mind wander. The familiar clinking of Reginald’s cane on the cobblestones filled the air, Reginald had also taken leave from his home, isolation did not fit well with the outdoorsman. Reginald picked up the afternoon Newspaper from his local street vendor, looking through the section regarding war correspondence before flicking through the busy pages.
Marion entered the large door of his local pub, a pint of bitter in his hand within moments. Looking at the unattended afternoon paper that laid open on the bar, he flipped through the pages until he found the article relating to the Windebank case.
“Alfred and Susan Windebank, recently returned from their voyage sponsored by the National Geographical Society, residing at the Norris Hotel in London, if anyone has any information relating to Susan Windebank’s location, please come forward.”
The article went on to name several witnesses who had come forward, the Captain of the steam ship, representatives from the Dutch Embassy, members of the Royal Geographical Society, members of the student body and faculty of the University of London, all coming forward as friends or colleagues of the Windebank name.
Marion’s mind stirred towards new lines of enquiry, who to ask about what may have happened, leaving his pink half drunk on the bar, Marion set out in search of the Norris Hotel, a place he had never heard of in the city, however with what he may find ever pressing on his mind, he headed for home first, his medical bag of chief importance.
As Marion trudged home he asked every newspaper vendor and Hansom cab driver if they had heard of the Norris hotel, only one cabman advised that it was west of the city centre.
Reginald continued to read the paper as he walked aimlessly backwards and forwards through the park close to his front door. Deciding he had done enough sitting on the sidelines, Reginald called for Singh and hailed a Hansom cab, checking the address on the card he was given by Marion, Reginald gave the cabman instructions to head to Wandsworth. Reginald conversed with Singh, mainly by loud procrastinations, advising him that a Doctor would always be useful in any situation and that as a sharp young man, Marion was a good choice of companion for such events.
Exiting the cab at the address, Reginald was not impressed by Marion’s current lodgings. A thin terrace type home, squeezed in between two larger residences, thin to the point where the staircase would have to be over half the total size of the home. Shrugging off his momentary hesitation based on the appearance of the home, Reginald knocked his cane on the door, his calls unanswered. Moving to the next home where the door was answered by a serving lady, Reginald was following his usual abrupt nature with the woman who clearly had no idea of the comings and goings of her neighbour.
As the familiar London drizzle of rain began to fall, Marion turned the corner to his street, his newspaper held over his head to shield him from the rain. Looking up he could see a Hansom Cab outside his residence, the familiar figure of Reginald standing at the door of he neighbour’s house, his loud voice announcing that he had sighted Marion.
After enquiring as to why Reginald was at his home, Marion listened as Reginald informed him that the police seem to be dragging their feet by his standards and that he was here to do his own investigation. Marion agreed, Reginald sent Singh home as he often did, waiting inside the Hansom cab for Marion to join him once he had retrieved his medical bag.
Marion entered the cab, his small medical bag slung over his shoulder, able to be tucked under the folds of his overcoat to be protected from the rain. Reginald asked the cabman to take them to the Norris Hotel, after a few moments of pondering, the cabman began to move. Remembering that the Norris was close to Kensington, west of the city. In the back of the cab, Marion and Reginald did their best to converse with each other as two clear members of different classes. Marion learned of Reginald’s wound, his slight limp caused by an injury sustained in the war, a bayonet carving through his thigh. Reginald also regaled Marion with the tale of how he was saved by his servant Singh, less a servant and more a companion and confidante.
Reginald was the type of man who enjoyed spinning tales about his own exploits, Marion was happy to oblige, asking question after question to pass the time.
As the Hansom Cab stopped Reginald and Marion looked around the area, the clean looking brick building sorting a small sign of the Norris Hotel, across the road from the Edison St Station.
The Hotel looked strange considering its surroundings, more of a refuge amongst the dark and damp surrounding buildings. Wasting no time, Reginald requested the Hansom Cab wait for them as Marion straightened his tie and walked towards the front entrance of the Norris Hotel.
The Desk clerk looked up from his newspaper to see Reginald and Marion standing across the counter, Marion asking the whereabouts of the rooms of Alfred and Susan Winderbank. Enquiring about who the men were, the desk clerk also advised that there was no one in at the moment. Answering the clerk about who he was, a Doctor sent by Hyde Park police station, Marion continued to question the clerk who was less than helpful, refusing the two men entry. Reginald barked at the clerk, demanding access as Alfred passed away on the floor of the police station. The back and forth of the conversation made it clear that Marion and Reginald were not going to get access to the rooms. Letting it slip that one of the employees by the name of “Jenny” had just checked the room and no one was inside. Demanding to speak to Jenny, Reginald’s face was turning a darker shade of red as the clerk again refused to be helpful. Managing to get the basic information from the clerk regarding ‘Jenny’, Marion was relieved to hear she was on her lunch break and may be found in the pub across the road.
Standing on the steps of the Norris Hotel, relieved to be away from the clerk, Marion and Reginald agreed to head across the road to the Red Lion pub where ‘Jenny’ may be located.
Pushing the door open, Marion asked Reginald to call out her name loudly, to see which patrons turn their head as a means to identify her. Happy to obliged, Reginald let out a loud request of who is named Jenny.
Only one woman looked shocked, sitting alone in a corner of the establishment. Walking across to her, Marion introduced himself, followed by Reginald. Asking permission to sit with her, Marion began asking questions of the Windebanks and their possible whereabouts. After a few minutes of free flowing conversation, Marion and Reginald learned that she had not seen Susan Windebank for a few days. She also witnessed on the day that he died, Alfred was searching for Susan, walking the halls of the Hotel, covered in bandages and calling for her loudly. She also said that they both were missing for days at a time, Alfred first, then Susan, Alfred returned, bandaged and cloaked and using the term ‘madman’ frequently, yet Susan had not been seen for nearly a week. Thanking Jenny for her information, Reginald pressed the issue that they required access to the room occupied by the Windebanks. Jenny was most unnerved by the request, she was only three months into her employment and did not want to compromise her income by allowing two men who were strangers to her into a room she cleans. Marion pressed again for any information about where Susan may have disappeared to. Jenny racking her brain as he spoke aloud her thoughts regarding passing comments made by Mrs Windebank, the most solid memory being that she mentioned she would search for Mr Windebank at the premises of a Doctor. Marion perked up thinking that his knowledge of London physicians would help him recognise the name. Jenny recalled Mrs Windebank stating she would ask a Doctor “Ranger”. While the name was not familiar to Marion, he knew it was a starting point.
Jenny recalls that this Doctor may have ‘wronged’ the Windebanks in some way. Pushing once again for access to the room of the Windebanks, Reginald continued to insist that she allow them in. Jenny, finally giving in, informed them that the back door of the Hotel was unlocked, upstairs, room 104 was currently being rented by the Windebanks. Reginald gave her nod and smile as he took his leave, paying for Jenny’s lunch and leaving some extra money for her services. Marion also stood from the table muttering to himself where he may have heard the name ‘Ranger’ before, drawing a blank.
Reginald returned to the Hansom cab, asking the driver if he knew of the medical rooms of any practitioner named Ranger. Without an address, the name was blank to the driver, instead pointing to the closest medical practice near the train station down from the pub they had just exited. Marion took the lead, heading into the practice and asking the clerk at the desk if they were familiar with a ‘Dr Ranger’, the clerk not knowing of anyone by that name.
Both Reginald and Marion were becoming equally frustrated, choosing to keep the information regarding Doctor Ranger on the back burner. Instead Reginald chose to follow the lead they had regarding the docks on the other side of the city. The customs house where goods would have to be registered from the East Indies Shipping Company. The Hansom Cab ride was long, much to the delight of the driver, Reginald and Marion discussed their investigation, both of them now referring to it as such. Both quite pleased that they had beaten Inspector Jones to their discoveries at the Norris Hotel, they could only hope to be the first on the scene to the office of the East Indies Shipping Co.
Exiting the Hansom Cab to the squelch of mud under their feet, both Reginald and Marion looked around them at the heavily used streets in front of the shipping offices. Carts and heavy vehicles alike bustled about one another, throwing up mud and filth with every passing.
Sighting the office of the East Indies, Reginald took the lead, having advised Marion that he would need to act with stronger authority so as to not repeat the event of being turned away at the front desk like within the Norris Hotel.
Entering the office and wiping his shoes briskly, Reginald grabbed the attention of the closest clerk he could find. Reginald began making demands of information regarding the shipping containers that were in the possession of Mr Windebank. The clerk was struggling to keep up with the demands, simply requesting paperwork regarding the inventory so that he could locate the desired items. Reginald advised that the paperwork was not present, however if the clerk wanted to contact Scotland Yard and ask for Inspector Jones, he could arrange that immediately. The clerk becoming shy at the mention of Scotland Yard, the clerk quickly began looking through ledgers.
Marion informed the man of the name of the vessel, the date of arrival and all information regarding the crates listed on the paperwork he had witnessed on the corpse of Windebank. Eventually finding the listing for ‘Windebank’, the clerk advised that four crates were currently being stored containing 2800lbs of goods. The clerk remained defensive at allowing the two men access, yet Reginald’s reply coming in the form at eight pound sterling seemed to satisfy the clerk and snap him into immediate action, summoning one of the junior clerks to escort Reginald and Marion to the location of the crates.
Marion and Reginald strode through the racking of crates, boxes and shipping containers, all tagged and labelled, coming to a stop in front of 4 large wooden crates labelled Windebank. The clerk summoned several labourers to remove the crates from the racking and place them on the floor, each man then taking a crowbar, leavering off the lids, breaking the seal that gave the location of the port of origin, “Batavia”.
Raising his handkerchief over his mouth, Marion stepped forward to examine the first crate, as the lid was removed, the contents were smaller, wooden boxes of standard weight. Marion removed the first box, opening the lid and finding hundreds of specimens of beetles within. Looking closely, Marion took one of the beetles from within the box, examining it closely before wrapping it in his handkerchief and placing it in his pocket. Taking a second box from the crate, this time, the smell of damp and dust emanating from within. Opening it, inside were moths, yet they were not as well preserved as the container of the beetles. Continuing through the boxes, many species of insects revealed themselves, their specimens in varying degrees of decay, whoever had packed them clearly lost interest in preserving the contents.
Moving to another one of the larger crates, Reginald could see a variety of books, religious texts and learning materials for children to young adults, its was clear that someone who was with Mr Windebank was doing schooling for local children. Books of a fictitious and personal nature also became apparent, a framed photograph of what appeared to be the Windebanks also within the crate. As Marion joined Reginald, a leather bound book took his eye, opening it, the handwritten diary of Alfred Windebank. Agreeing with Reginald that all of the contents should remain for when the police arrive, Marion tucked the diary inside his jacket, Reginald distracted the clerk as he thanked them for their work and requested they close and reshelve the crates.
 |
| Alfred and Susan Windebank, in happier times |
As Marion and Reginald exited the shipping office, Marion requested Reginald to drop him at home so that he may further examine the diary and beetle he had pocketed from the crates. As the sun began to go down on London behind the dense clouds that constantly threatened to rain, the Hansom Cab came to a stop outside Marion’s home. Reginald followed Marion up his front steps, curious to inspect the lodgings of his fellow investigator. A small and modest apartment, each wall of the downstairs area filled with bookcases loaded with medical journals and textbooks. The small office space at the front of the house was a clutter of papers, low hanging light fixtures, books and reading equipment. Reginald seemed uncomfortable in the small space, much preferring to stride around a room than to sit in one spot.
Marion took a seat at his desk, removing the beetle from his pocket. He placed it under one of the brighter lights he had set up, pulling his magnifying glass across the table to closely inspect the specimen.
Reginald took his leave from Marion, extending him an invitation to share breakfast at his residence the following day. Thanking Reginald for his offer and seeing him to the door, Marion started to pour over the diary. From the writings, it was clear that this was the writings of Alfred Windebank, his referencing Susan and colleagues coming through in the handwritten text.
*
The clock chimed 11pm as Marion finally placed the diary down on his desk, closing the cover and thinking hard regarding what he had just read. His mind raced with the idea that this exotic disease that had struck Alfred down in Hyde Park could have a source abroad. Knowing that he would have to inform Reginald in the morning, Marion made notes as best he could to spare Reginald any of the writings that may cause him to lose interest. Enjoying a night void of dreams and disturbances, Marion was keen to join Reginald for breakfast, a meal that he usually skips apart from a cup of tea that is usually cold by the time he partook.
Heading to the Morgue, Marion spotted the Hansom cab waiting for him, he nodded to the driver, signalling that he had to run inside for a moment, Marion headed directly to Dr Spencer who was sitting at his desk. Spencer seemed agitated as he addressed Marion, advising that he was not home when the health inspectors visited his home the previous day. Offering a dim excuse, Marion then explained he was feeling fine and volunteered to check in on Reginald.
Before leaving the morgue, Marion was briefly shown by Spencer a series of slides, revealing a closer view of the spores that he had extracted from the brain of Mr Windebank. Marion closed the door of the morgue and hopped straight into the waiting cab, the driver given instructions to go directly to Reginald’s property. After the brief cab ride, Marion was immediately impressed by Reginald’s entry way, Singh standing by the door, walking up the front steps, Singh gave a nod as Marion passed him into the foyer, the polished floor almost showing a reflection. Singh pointed to the dining area as he could see Marion was clearly lost in the finery of his current surroundings.
Reginald’s booming voice calling out for Marion to identify himself, joining him at the table, Marion was struck by the volume of food laid out across the table, eggs, bacon, toast, black pudding, everything he had always dreamed a breakfast to be. Sitting together and eating their fill while discussing the notes Marion had made regarding the diary, Reginald rose to his feet with a sudden outburst “It’s not Dr Ranger! It’s Granger!”.
Devouring another handful of bacon before standing from the table, Marion set off to locate the whereabouts of Dr Granger. It did not take him long to determine that Dr Granger was a sitting professor at the University of London, the information coming through his enquiries within the British Museum and Geographical society.
Walking side by side with Reginald, who seemed to have a spring in his step since discovering the link between Ranger and Granger, stroking his own ego, Marion seemed lost as he did his best to locate the office for the Geographical society. After consulting with the administration office, Marion made a good presentation recounting the expedition to Singapore and beyond in order to acquire the information regarding the Windebank expedition. After a few moments, the clerk returned with a Mr Wilson, a man who was intent on answering any questions that Marion and Reginald may have as he was the liaison to the police who had visited on the previous day. Advising that the Windebanks had returned from their expedition in Sumatra, Dr Granger was sponsored by the University of London as the expedition was a joint venture in the field.
Mr Wilson volunteered the information that Dr Granger was a leading professor in the field of Tropical Medicine, the study of diseases. After a brief discussion regarding the terrible shame regarding the passing of Mr Windebank, Mr Wilson could offer little further as he was still waiting for the crates held at the East Indies Shipping Company.
Walking across the academic grounds of the University, Marion and Reginald did their best to maintain the presentation that they belonged on campus, despite Reginald’s obvious facial expression that he was ready to go toe to toe with Dr Granger based on the writings of the Windebank diary.
As the two of them approached the building to the North East end of the Campus of Gower Street, one of its brass plaques showed that it housed the school of tropical medicine. After a stone staircase, Reginald and Marion went to the office of Dr Granger, his administration clerk asked for an appointment and was dismissive at the notion that one had not been booked. Reginald pressed the urgency of meeting Dr Granger as information pertaining to his recent expedition is currently in their possession. Ushered to leather arm chairs in the sitting area outside the main office of Granger, the walls of the room were littered with books, swords, expedition souvenirs, an entire surplus of fossils and findings regarding a lifetime spent abroad.
Walking around the office space, Marion inspected the bookcases, volumes of medical encyclopaedias, research journals and publications regarding exotic illness and diseases, maps from almost every chartered nation on every charted continent, it was clear that Granger was a well travelled man. Continuing to pace the office Marion spotted a strange sight, on the windowsill a small glass culture sample dish. As he walked closer to the window it became apparent to him that this was looking more and more like the responsible party as the culture dish held within it a sample of a semi luminescent blue spore pattern. Across the empty space of the same windowsill, dust had begun to form on the shadows of what looked like two identical dish markings that had recently been removed.
The door to the office space swung open quickly, allowing a well dressed man to enter who was somewhat out of breath, introducing himself as Dr Granger as he exclaimed his hasty return from the library. Offering both men a drink as he explained that Inspector Jones was sitting in the same seat Reginald was currently occupying the previous day. Sitting opposite Reginald and Marion, Granger began to regale the two with his account of the expedition.
Advising that Alfred took ill shortly after their arrival at basecamp, he had taken up with a local witchdoctor, attempted to dismiss all of the porters and staff. Marion and Reginald looked concerned as Granger's account reflected so many similarities of Alfred’s diary, only Granger being the culprit of the offences. Marion continued regarding Alfred coming to see Dr Granger within the previous days, a puzzled look on the face of Granger followed by a denial.
Reginald could not stand to sit in the company of the Professor without interjecting his own form of conversation starter. The denial of Granger sparking Reginald to lash out verbally, naming Granger all manner of insult, liar, cad, fornicator and criminal before standing and wrapping his cane on Dr Granger’s desk. Rising to his feet, ringing a bell from his office and demanding that the two men leave immediately, demanding the names of the two men, promising that they would not be welcome in academic circles and that their entire point of view is based on the diary of a man who was slowly going insane.
Porter’s entered the office to remove Reginald and Marion from Dr Granger’s company, Reginald giving them a fierce look before pushing past them on his way out. Marion followed, staring at the floor, watching his desire to join the academic elite be crushed by Reginald’s lack of tact in the situation.
Pacing back across the grounds of the university towards the main road, Reginald procrastinating as to what scheme Granger was up to. Marion also dwelled on the problem, what the sample was and what they could do to get their hands on it. Reginald enquired of Marion if there was any way of keeping an eye on Granger to which Marion replied that he could have it arranged, his mind turning to his friend Seamus from his youth.
Parting ways, Marion headed back to his place of work, the cab ride allowing him to best rehearse how to inform Dr Spencer of what he had found in the office of Granger. Reginald waited a bit longer, thinking about what Granger had said at his very first introduction, how he had returned from the Library. Running his hand across his chin, he set off in the direction of the London Library to see what Granger may have been up to inside its walls. At the office of Dr Spencer, Marion did his best to explain himself as to his findings regarding the contents of Dr Granger’s office. Spencer glanced over the indiscretion instead demanding Marion to issue a letter of request for the sample of blue spores to be sent for examination by the pathology officer at the morgue.
Writing the letter immediately, Marion also wrote a second letter, this one handed to a runner and addressed to the Red Stump Tavern, a summons to his friend Seamus. Half an hour after issuing the summons, one of the clerks came to Marion, explaining there was a man outside to see him. The alley next to the morgue was always dimly lit, a perfect place to discuss business of an unsavoury nature. Seamus and Marion had used it even since he began his employ at the morgue, Seamus, a rough looking man with harsh features always spoke to Marion as if he were sitting across a table at the pub, never sugar coating a single word. Marion asked Seamus to keep an eye on Dr Granger for the evening and report back with information on the movements of the Professor. Deflated at the simple task,
Seamus agreed, in his mind, hoping for something that required more confrontation than mystery, he disappeared into the thick fog that lingered in the air through the narrow London back alleys.
Reginald entered the Library very much like a fish out of water, far more comfortable on the battlefield than surrounded by literature. Making his way to the main desk, Reginald addressed the clerks in a commanding nature. Insisting he was sent at the behest of Dr Granger, he requested the names of the books Dr Granger had requested. After a brief back and forth regarding library membership and a hesitant glance, the clerk eventually moved to where the request cards were being kept.
After a few minutes, the clerk returned with a handful of cards, rattling off the names of the books requested by Dr Granger. The clerk concluded the list of names, and continued to explain that Dr Granger had access as a member of the library to private collections, books and journals that are not accessible to the public.
Reginald finally left the library, a copied list of book titles in his possession, a list he hoped would mean more to Marion than himself. Evening had come as Reginald hailed a London Cab Co Hansom Cab. Remembering that Alfred Windebank had taken a similar cab to Hyde Park, Reginald enquired as to the offices of the London Cab Co and that he wished to be taken to that address.
Reginald moved through the numerous cab drivers who were huddled in conversations regarding all manner of debate. Entering the office, Reginald enquired as to the details of a trip that took place at the time and location regarding Alfred Windebank.
The clerk was reluctant to assist in the search until Reginald slid coins across the counter, the clerk returning back to the counter with a box of documents. Moving through them at a quick rate, matching the date and drop off location of Hyde Park Police Station. The clerk removed the Way Bill from the box and handed it to Reginald. The handwritten notation on the paper giving the name of the driver, Jarvis. Thanking the clerk, Reginald took the Way Bill and exited the office, asking the huddles of Cab drivers if they were or knew where to find Jarvis.
A cabbie raised his hand and pointed to the tavern on the corner, waving Reginald over to him. The cabbie escorted Reginald to the tavern, entering the pub, the cabbie pointed Jarvis out of the crowd, a mid 40’s man in a well dressed Cab uniform half way through a pint. Reginald moved through the crowd of patrons to where Jarvis was sitting and addressed him by name to which Jarvis stood immediately, recognising a fellow military man when he laid eyes on one.
Sitting Jarvis back down, Reginald made his enquiry regarding Jarvis’s bandage clad customer from the previous days. Jarvis explained that it was strange to receive a cab fare from the location of the ‘Albert Docks’, yet did not ask questions at the time. Reginald scribbled down notes regarding the locations on the back of the scrap containing the names of the book titles he had received at the library. Jarvis continued regarding the fare, Albert Docks to Kensington, the Norris Hotel, followed by Hyde Park Police Station. Impressed with Jarvis’s retelling of the fare, Reginald gave Jarvis his calling card, asking for one in return, Reginald nodded to Jarvis before leaving the tavern and making his way home.
Marion was looking over the reports from the autopsy Dr Spencer had performed earlier in the day when he received another message regarding a visitor waiting outside the morgue. Seamus was leaving against the door frame of an alcove off to the side of the alley they have previously met in. Seamus went through the list of activities he had witnessed Dr Granger go through that evening, collection of a parcel from the library, purchasing a newspaper and reading it as he walked through the park. Seamus put emphasis on how the Dr had stopped walking as he clearly read something that startled him, throwing the paper in the waste bin before hailing a cab and rushing off. Seamus collected the paper from the waste bin before returning to Marion, handing him the newspaper still open on the page that had caused Dr Granger such distress, “Plague Threatens East End”.
