The death of Godfrey Williamson had seen a flurry of activity at his residence, many of the occult community gathering to pay respect to the recently deceased academic, not least of which was Marion and Reginald. Before the news of his passing went wide spread, Marion and Reginald were able to gain access to the residence and explore Godfrey’s library, many of his texts joining the book shelves within Marion’s private collection.
Spending time within the grieving community, Marion did his best to create additional contacts within the community of occult enthusiasts.
Spending time with several members of the group, after several months, Marion was able to form a good connection with a relatively young man of good stature by the name of Walter Groves. An entertainer more than a deep philosopher, Walter became a regular visitor to Marion and Reginald’s office.
While Marion delved into the realms of the occult, Reginald turned his attention to finding another robust colleague capable of taking a more hands on approach to investigative work. Through his contacts at the Army and Navy club, while also using new confidence in speaking to inspectors and police officers alike, he was able to engage with a former Detective of Scotland Yard named Bartholomew Gallows, who had turned his attention to private work.
Marion developed his understanding further of how the society of occultists in London operated, private gatherings often held beneath the guise of tea parties and social dinners, spending much of his time scouring the manuscript he had pieced together. The manuscript had begun to take a toll on Marion, a toll Reginald had not failed to notice. After the first few months had passed after Godfrey’s death, Reginald would find Marion sitting alone in a dark room lit only by a single candle some distance from him, yet still reading the text as though in daylight barely free from the grasp of an alcohol bottle, something he had battled in the past. Marion rarely leaves the text alone, carrying it with him as if it were his pocket book. Marion's general demeanour seemed to also change, his temper shorter than it had once been, Reginald also frustrated as Marion was far less agreeable to Reginald’s usual orders, often questioning his demands and barking his own orders in retaliation.
As a regular visitor to the office of Reginald and Marion, Walter was often curious as to what Marion seemed to be obsession over, yet was often relegated to cataloguing and studying the texts of the expanded library they had in their collection, Walter yet to find particular topic that interested him beyond others, was happy to broaden his already developed understanding on numerous topics.
As the business continued to grow, Fordyce was running the day to day office work, arranging enquiries and paperwork, Singh freely moving between the Lockhart residence and office when required, Reginald using the office as a space to write his ever developing memoirs full of personal embellishments and grandeur while constantly writing the investigations of Bart as his own, no matter how small, written as life or death tales of adventure.
Marion, now residing in the office in his room, began to feel at ease within its walls, the time between Godfrey’s passing and the current day now well over a year, Marion had found his place of security at the station he was now comfortable in, far above the lowly mortuary employee he previously was.
*
The unseasonable heat currently sweeping London caused Reginald to book a brief holiday for himself, Marion and his family to enjoy a long weekend in Henley where a Regatta was due to take place. All boarding the train on Friday morning, briefly stopping in Twyford the entire family was present, all dressed to match their station. Reginald, accompanied by his wife Jane, three daughters and son, Singh in tow with the family nanny, with Marion accompanying them silently, book in hand. Reginald dressed in the height of fashion, his linen threats reflecting the upper echelon of society, his family dressed to match, the only out of place attendee, Marion, in his summer linens, yet refusing to wear a necktie, his open collar and undone waistcoat a pour reflection of his current social status.
As the family began to board the train from Twyford, Marion and Reginald spotted a well dressed gentleman standing close to them on the platform, as if a stiff board was against his back, a sense of awkwardness about him. Taking their seats in the carriage, Reginald’s children, overcome with excitement running from seat to seat, the family nanny doing her best to keep them under control.
Marion sat next to Singh across the aisle from where the children were causing no end of noise, doing his best to read his manuscript without losing any of the loose pages. The man they had spotted on the platform sitting in the next bay along from where Singe and Marion were residing, placed his suitcase on the empty seat by his side.
Looking out through the large windows, the station manager was walking towards the carriage, escorting what appeared to be an elderly blind man. As the station manager did his best to make his way through the carriage, Marion and Singh both took hold of the children in order to make room for the blind man to pass, the station manager seating them in the same bay as the awkward gentleman.
As Reginald’s three daughters gradually calmed themselves, Cecil continued to run riot along the aisle of the train, Marion eventually taking him by the arm and sitting him down between Singh and himself, much to the relief of the nanny who was clearly frustrated. After spending a few minutes pointing and looking out the window with Cecil, Marion then passed him off to the nanny who was somewhat recovered. The now calmer Cecil, looking for any excuse to get himself excited again.
Reginald moved freely around the carriage, doing his best to engage with other men within the carriage, Reginald taking a seat next to the blind man, smacking a pipe as he did his best to start a conversation with the awkward man who seemed somewhat out of place on a train to Henley, his attire suggesting he was business minded rather than traveling for pleasure. The booth was filled with silence, the blind man seemed to be dozing, the well dressed man with the briefcase looking vacantly out the window. Marion soon joined Reginald in the booth, taking a deep breath as he had escaped the excited children.
The carriage went black as the train entered the tunnel between Shipley and Henley, the children squealed with excitement at the sudden darkness. A sudden scream of a man’s voice and the sounds of movement within the booth were closely followed by the screeching of train brakes. Marion and Reginald, like all others in the carriage thrown from their seats, cries of pain and the sounds of bodies crashing all around the carriage. Reginald and Marion could both feel a wet splash hit their faces and clothing. Reginald immediately found his feet, moving from the booth to where his family were toppled over, the dim light of a distant lantern coming towards them.
The booming voice of a train guard running through the train and helping people back to their seats. A second light entered from the other end of the carriage, the dim lamp light reflecting off the red, wet blood that smeared Marion and Reginald’s faces.
Reginald demanded the guard remove all passengers from the train, while Marion called the second guard with a lantern to him. Reginald moved back to where Marion was sitting on the floor, the guard now standing where Marion sat let out a sigh of profanity as his lantern moved through the booth. The guard expressed his desire to run to Henley and summon the police, Reginald snatching his lantern from him before he departed.
Marion and Reginald both observed the two other men who were in the booth. The well dressed man was standing, braced in the corner of the booth, his outstretched hand pulling the cable for the emergency break. The blind man was on his knees against the well dressed man, both covered in blood. As Marion and Reginald took a step closer, the blind man slumped to the floor, his glasses falling from his face to reveal no eyes in his head, only empty cavities. Reginald looked back towards the man pulling the brake, the hilt of a knife protruding from his chest. Marion watched as the well dressed man began to slump back to his seat, the last of the air in his lungs escaping through gurgled sounds.
Marion checked the pulse of the blind man, something immediately shocking him. Not only was the blind man dead, his body was stiff, as if it had been dead for several hours. Reginald checking the man with the blade protruding from his chest. A total of three stab wounds, the third and final piercing his heart. Reginald began to go through the pockets of the man for any form of identification, the dim light of the lantern making it hard to read any of the paperwork he was able to find.
Marion moved to the man in the seat, pulling the blade from his chest, Marion would see that the knife itself was not something normal. The blade itself was triangular, not the flat sided blades common in the world, the hilt and blade seemed to be wet, a residue covered the entirety of it, yet it was not blood, more of a film that was unseen. The pommel and hilt a mix of finely wrapped copper wire, and brass, etched graphics of a serpent.
As all passengers were evacuated from the carriage, Marion and Reginald found themselves alone with the two corpses, the distant sounds of footsteps coming closer. Marion did his best to examine both bodies in the dim light, Reginald on the other hand opened the briefcase the recently murdered man was carrying, full of documents and mixed paperwork.
Examining the blind man, he was completely free from all forms of identification and paperwork, nothing to positively identify him at all, not even lint residing in his pockets. Marion took a bandage from his medical bag, wrapping the blade that he had pulled from the man’s chest and placed it on the floor next to the body of the blind man. Marion joined Reginald as he ruffled through the paperwork within the suitcase. A brown envelope addressed to ‘J. Oldacre, 9 Hart St, Henley’, Marion stuffing it into his bag as if on instinct. Much of the other paperwork seemed unrelated to each other. Reginald pulled a calling card from one of the pockets inside the case ‘Horatio Cartwright, 2 Church Street Mortlake, formerly of Chelsea’.
Unable to make sense of any of the findings they had discovered, Reginald and Marion were soon surrounded by several police officers, all carrying lanterns and demanding answers as they ushered Reginald and Marion to vacate the train.
Reginald and Marion were met by a portly police inspector as they reached the end of the tunnel who identified himself as Inspector Longtree of the Henley Police Constabulary. The inspector demanded to know why the men were covered in blood and what had transpired on the train. Reginald and Marion answered as quickly as possible, often punctuating their explanation with their current roles as enquiry agents working with Scotland Yard.
The inspector seemed to not be paying as close attention as Marion and Reginald had been used to, his impatience prevailing and sending the two men on to where the rest of the evacuated passengers were being sent by carriage on to Henley. The inspector demanded the two men attend the police station as soon as possible when settled in Henley.
Reginald re-joined his family, Singh doing his best to keep all of them together as Jane had fainted during the commotion. Much to the horror of the family at the appearance of Marion and Reginald covered in blood, Reginald demanded Singh take his family on to where he had arranged their accommodation, while he and Marion would head into town for new clothing.
While this article seemed curious to both Reginald and Marion, their priority was to locate a store to secure new garments. Making their way through the bustling streets, eventually Reginald and Marion were able to secure new clothing of a modest quality, still reflecting summer linens, yet not as high class as Reginald was used to.
Now dressed with minimal blood stains, Reginald and Marion made their way to the hotel they were booked into, arriving just in time to see Singh and the rest of Reginald’s family arrive. Jane was not impressed at the situation, asserting that she was not happy for Reginald to engage in investigative work while on holiday.
Paying Jane little mind, Reginald and Marion sat in the hotel foyer enjoying a drink, Marion producing the envelope from his medical bag addressed to Mr Oldacre. Marion opened the envelope without delay, he read to himself the short letter before passing it to Reginald.
The letter was that of a man named Elias, who was reaching out to another in order to stop a devastating plot to unleash some sort of world ending beast on the world. After Reginald sat the letter down from his face, it seemed that the man who had been murdered on the train was on some sort of mission to deliver this letter at the behest of Elias, Reginald looking at Marion puzzled yet his mid was clearly working on how to pursue this investigation without causing his wife to much anxiety.
Reginald and Marion walked the short distance to Henley Police station, advising the desk sergeant they were to give statements to Inspector Longtree regarding the murder on the train. Taking a seat in the inspector’s cluttered office, Reginald and Marion gave their statements regarding the grizzly murder, the aid they tried to render and the shock they were suffering from the damage done to Reginald’s family from the sudden impact on the train. After Inspector Longtree concluded scratching his notes onto the paper on his desk, he excused the two men, advising them to not wander too far and be reachable in case any further questions arise.
Detouring from their intended hotel destination, Reginald and Marion spotted the street sign for Hart Street, both agreeing to wander past and enquire about Mr Oldacre, the intended recipient of the envelope. Knocking on the door of the undisturbed house, when no answer came, Reginald moved to the neighbour's homes, speaking to them regarding when they had last seen Jeremiah and when he should be expected to return. Re-joining Marion, Reginald walked with Marion around the block as there was no side access to the home as it was part of an adjoining series of homes along the street.
Finally accessing a service alley that ran along the back of the line of homes, Marion was able to spot the familiar roof slate of the correct home belonging to Mr Oldacre. Keeping out of sight, Marion led Reginald to the rear of the house, accessing the back garden and the wooden access door to the rear of the home.
Knocking again, and again receiving no answer, Marion turned the handle that opened with no resistance. Shrugging his shoulders at Reginald, Marion led the way inside where they were both immediately hit with a foul smell of rot and decay. Making their way into the kitchen to discover the sink filled with dirty dishes, yet nothing out of place, they continued through the home, the smell hovered in the air in every room. As they looked through the living room and surrounding dining areas, nothing appeared to be out of place except for the traffic of flies that swirled against the windows and ceiling.
Marion and Reginald moved towards the single stairwell heading upstairs, as they ascended, the stench of whatever was the source was getting stronger. A series of four closed doors ahead of them caused them both to stall their footsteps before Reginald reached for the door knob. Both wrapped their faces as best they could before systematically opening each door, the bathroom, toilet and study were all bare except for the visible swarms of flies. Closing the doors behind them, Reginald flung open the door of the bedroom, both men recoiling at the impact of the stench that penetrated their makeshift face masks and caused them both to gag. The thick clouds of flies in the air swirling around an elderly man who remained motionless on the bed. Reginald refused to enter the room, instead Marion entered the room and walking around the bed towards the window, sliding it open, causing many of the flies to vacate, yet many remained
in the room. Unable to inspect the room properly the few moments Marion could stand within the space revealed shelves of books, many of which seemed to be occult in nature, Marion bending slightly to see the intestines of the corpse on the floor off the side of the bed. Everything was rotten and covered in flies and maggots, Marion thinking to himself that whatever had happened here was not recent. Taking a brief glance under the bed, Marion was shocked to see an almost identical blade as the one used by the blind man on the train, the triangular blade unique in its design. Reginald stumbled around the room, falling upon a writing desk filled with notes and texts, unable to make much of the writings, Reginald gradually removed himself from the bedroom, the flies causing him no end of frustration.
After a brief examination as best the two men could manage, Reginald and Marion stumbled out of the back door of the house, Marion’s bag now significantly heavier with the addition of the blade. The two men moved about the backyard on their way towards the street, swatting away the remaining flies that had swirled so furiously around them inside the house.
*
Arriving back at the hotel just in time to see Singh accompanying the nanny, Jane and the children down the main staircase, Reginald and Marion began escorting them from the hotel in the direction of the river where the festivities of the Regatta had commenced. The town of Henley was alive with festive celebrations, from the river where the boat races had begun, the surrounding fields had been set up with tents, shops, attractions and restaurants filled with both local and foreign party goers. Cecil was excited at every aspect of his surroundings, wanting to go to the boats, the fair, the fields, everywhere that a child would be completely enthralled with, while Elizabeth, Margaret and Jane, Reginald’s three daughters were quite happy to follow their mother and partake in whatever she seemed interested in. Reginald and Marion walked calmly through the crowd, making sure to be seen and heard by their fellow London visitors and those from further abroad.
Marion’s eyes wandered beyond the main thoroughfare of the Regatta towards where a small Gypsy fair had been established, numerous carts and wagons sporting all manner of trinket sellers and fortune tellers collided with the common man.
Jane and the family nanny come to their aid, ushering the children towards the established refreshment tables that had been set up for the upper class. Reginald muttered to Marion about how disappointed he was with his children and that he needed to spend more time reinforcing discipline in them.
Marion began to wander from where the family were sitting and recovering from the traumatic experience of boating under Reginald’s command. Marion, large glass of brandy in hand, rubbed shoulders with rich and poor alike as he made his way towards the gypsy fair. Reginald followed closely behind as he noticed Marion’s absence. As Marion entered the area where the gypsies were thickest, he was amused as he watched several upper class couples be pickpocketed by many of the children moving through the crowd. His hand caught two such thieves as he walked down the main gypsy street, shaking his head at the boys he had caught with their fingers in his medical bag.
Reginald came to Marion’s side, drawing attention to the jugglers, cabinet of mysteries and masses of fortune tellers, loudly voicing his disbelief.
Returning back to the hotel after a long afternoon socializing at the Regatta, Marion and Reginald sat in the bar discussing their findings. Marion thought that Scotland Yard should be notified of the strange circumstances reflecting the type of case they buried themselves in. Reginald however discussed the option of contacting Marion’s new protégé at their office, Walter Groves.
Marion agreed to contact Walter, calling the office on the hotel phone. Walter was shocked to hear from Marion as they were supposed to be on holiday, Marion diving into the topics he required researching, “The Dulcarnon”, Walter immediately translating it to the “God with Two Horns”, the male God of a coupling that when paired with the “Mother Wife”, they regenerate the life of the land for the next year.
Marion also enquired regarding Olas Wormius, the name they had read in the letter retrieved from the briefcase. Unsure of where he had heard the name before, Walter eventually remembered that Olas Wormius was a translator in the 15th Century, burned at the stake after his works were found by the Inquisition. Marion requested Walter find out as much as he could on the subjects, for when they returned from Henley before returning the phone to the staff behind the bar.
Retiring for the evening Marion took solace in his book, reading over the text he had brought with him accompanied by a large bottle of whiskey on the dresser.
Reginald dined robustly with his family, regaling them with war stories and adventures of his investigations while they ate, tales they had all heard numerous times since their original occurrence, each time the stories coming forth, the more ridiculous and embellished they sounded.
After dinner Reginald knocked on Marion’s door to make sure he was not suffering too badly from his recent re-acquaintance with alcohol before retiring to his room for what he believed was a well earned rest
