As the evening air filled the lungs of Reginald and Marion, both already felt exhausted after the first afternoon of their long weekend in Henley. Having witnessed a murder, discovered a decomposing body and suffered the wrath of Jane for the first time, Reginald was ready to return to London and spend some time alone in the office.
Reginald picked up the Hotel phone and dialed the number for Scotland Yard, eventually reaching Inspector Craddock and filling him in on the situation and the visible incompetence of the local constabulary. Craddock was amused by the report from Reginald, agreeing that he would send telegram to the Inspector, advising that Marion and Reginald were to be considered ‘agents’ of Scotland yard, in name only and that their investigative expertise would be useful to any investigation that is currently being undertaken.
As Marion and Reginald joined Reginald’s family for dinner in the dining room of the Hotel, the evening was somewhat painful for Marion to watch, the children excited yet frightened from their boating experience. Jane was bitter and cold in Reginald’s direction as he did his best to tell his familiar stories, doing his best to relate them to boating in some way.
As soon as possible, Reginald and Marion took their leave from the family, taking a comfortable pair of chairs in the lounge area, both doing their best to appear relaxed, yet discussing in hushed tones the peculiar circumstances of the murders they had seen. Marion pulled the envelope from his pocket, reading it to himself several times before passing it to Reginald who seemed to struggle with the handwriting. Marion kept watch of their surroundings, he seemed preoccupied to Reginald who was demanding to know what he was searching for. After several drinks, Marion let it slip that he was watching for anyone who looked blind, or resembled the shuffling movements of the elderly, blind man from the train.
Reginald announced that it was time for them to retire for the evening, finishing his drink and taking hold of his cane, Singh close behind. Marion instead chose to go for a walk outside to clear his head.
After a few minutes of walking through the regatta that was winding down, Marion found himself at the main entrance to the gypsy area of the gatherings. Making sure he was carrying the minimal amount of possessions as to not be pick-pocketed, he watched with a smile as many of the drunken patrons were being robbed blind. Marion made his way calmly through the gypsy fair, observing the many strange curiosities that presented themselves, eventually coming to a halt in front of a dark wagon, an elderly woman sitting behind a table, a large crystal ball at its center. She looked up at Marion strangely, enough of a look to make him almost involuntarily take a seat across from her. Madame Zsa-Zsa, the fortune teller, flanked by two of her so-called sons, she began to read Marion’s palm, tracing the lines of his hand, stopping briefly, then continuing. She gave him the standard explanations of London fortune tellers, wealth, success, love, all of the above. Marion stopped her mid conversation, catching the look of confusion that struck her as she paused along his palm. Marion enquired as to what she had seen. Madam Zsa-Zsa began to speak in her native tongue, calling one of her sons to escort Marion from the tent.
Marion was confused at the sudden exit from the table, something was off to him, well beyond how he normally feels after the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Marion stumbled back towards the hotel, making his way up the stairs to his lodgings before promptly falling asleep.
*
As the sun rose over the horizon, the river side was already alive with the many visitors out for their morning sailing. Businesses and stalls buzzing with business as Reginald woke far earlier than he was used to. Taking his wife and family to the river for breakfast, Reginald had booked a table at the large dining tent the night before, Jane’s mood had softened at the effort Reginald had made to treat his family to breakfast.
Marion sat in the hotel dining room alone with his manuscript, reading small sections in between mouthfuls of bacon and eggs, not wishing to spend more time in the uncomfortable company of Reginald as his family at the present time.
As mid morning approached, Marion joined Reginald who was standing with his family and Singh at the banks of the river, watching the boat races. Jane was socializing with fellow members of high society, as Reginald did his best to ignore his son who was desperate to go to the gypsy fair. Reginald engaged with Marion, asking if there was any further investigation they could accomplish with minimal effort. Marion brought Reginald’s attention to the phrase in the letter of Robin Hood’s Bower, something that needed to be investigated by someone with access to a library, preferably their resident occultist back in London, Walter. As Marion wanted to follow up for more information on their previous enquiries with Walter, both agreed it would be a good idea to make that telephone call.
*
Walter was confused on the phone, the location of Robin Hood’s Bower was something of a myth, most people thinking immediately of Sherwood Forest and the legends surrounding the crusades, Walter agreed to do some digging into the possible coordinates. Asking Walter to get in touch with their investigative expert Bartholemew, Walter wrote down the address listed on the calling card of the deceased Horatio Cartwright from the train, located in Mortlake, not far from London, Marion instructed Walter to get Bart to look around the location and report back with any news.
Marion took Reginald with him to where had visited the previous night in the Gypsy fair, Madame Zsa-Zsa’s wagon was closed, Marion tapping on the door as many of the surrounding gypsies took notice of the two strangers in their midst. Reginald pulled Marion away as he watched many of the surrounding men paying special attention to them. Returning to where they had left Jane and the children earlier, Marion and Reginald began to accompany the children to the numerous snack and treat tents in an effort to relieve Jane of her burdens.
As the day came to a close, Reginald and Jane sat at a largetable under the huge gazebo set up for riverside dining, both of them having made several connections throughout the day with society members who had either heard of Reginald and his business or wanted to. Marion sat a short distance away, his lower social standing not allowing him access to the main table, yet over the course of the evening, several men from the main table choosing to engage with Marion as a fellow investigator of the ever growing “Lockhart and Collins” business.
A not at the hotel reception awaited Reginald as he returned to the hotel. Bart had requested a telephone call. Reginald immediately dialed the number, Bart answering the phone after several chimes.
Bart explained that the address belonged to a large house that was clearly old, centuries old at its most ancient parts, built over with more modern designs through the ages. He had watched as a hearse arrived at the front door, two men removing some sort of box and discussing the removal of the item with the housekeeper.
The hearse itself is labeled with the logo of “Rowse’s Funeral Parlour”, a well respected funeral home in London. Bart went on to explain that the two men who removed the item struck him as odd as they were not dressed in the garb of funeral employees, lights are on in the home, yet only in the lower, servants quarters.
Marion listened to the relayed information of Reginald and both discussed the nature of the medieval home turned residence. Backed against the river in Mortlake, they both seemed to come to the conclusion that it must be the home of John Dee, the famous court Magician and astrologer of Queen Elizabeth.
Both men sat back in their chairs at the realization, shaking their heads and deciding to retire for the night. As they entered their rooms, both could see that several of their belongings had been moved, someone had been in their lodgings. Looking around in detail, nothing appeared to be missing, yet many of their belongings had clearly been gone through.
Marion braced the door with a chair as he laid in his bed, not thinking that they were under any threat, they had clearly been observed by the wrong kind of people, a knock at the door found Reginald informing Marion that he had made the decision to send his family home the next day, coming to the conclusion that the investigation was far too dangerous to keep them around for.
Reginald and Marion continued their discussion regarding what they had found, Marion constantly pacing to the window and back on the lookout for any signs of people observing them. Reginald enquired as to any contact with Walter, the weekend making any communication difficult and his ability to research less likely than a week day, Marion not expecting to hear back from him until Monday at the earliest.
As Reginald’s room echoed with the sound of him snoring, Marion made his way around the hotel in the dead of night, wandering about as the rest of the hotel patrons vanished from the common areas. Marion watched for anything suspicious, yet disappointed with the lack of activity in the early morning hours.
*
The morning was another filled with disappointment for Reginald’s family, Reginald treating them to a large breakfast before escorting them to the train station for their return to London, Singh accompanying them as Reginald refused to leave his investigation at the expense of his families weekend plans.
Marion and Reginald sat in a corner of the common dining area as morning tea started to fill the tables. Marion discussed at length with Reginald what their next move should be, concluding that returning to Hart Street where they had found the body of Jeremiah Oldacre the previous day. Much to their relief, the police had discovered the crime scene and a notice had been posted on the front door. Deciding to follow up with Inspector Longtree, Renginald and Marion were escorted by the desk sergeant to where Longtree was finishing his breakfast. Longtree rose from his desk, brushing the crumbs from his waistcoat, discussing the call he had received from Scotland Yard before detailing the specifics of the report he had written regarding the murders. Reginald and Marion engaged with Longtree in a semi-official capacity, both recognising that this was a man far out of his depth. Both of them stroked the Inspector’s ego significantly, achieving their goal of being able to investigate freely in Henley with the support of the police in exchange for a good work with Scotland Yard and recognition of any outcome.
Pleased with the outcome of their talk with Inspector Longtree, Reginald and Marion walked briskly from the police station, knowing that they would most likely be returning to Henley in the near future, they decided the best course of action would be to return to Mortdale and follow up on the discoveries of Bartholemew and the funeral house that was removing items from the Mortdale address of the Cartwrights.
As Marion and Reginald strolled through the busy streets of Henley on the final day of the Regatta, the sun was hotter than usual for the time of year, they left the populated area on a detour to the hotel, crossing one of the many bridges to the far side of the river, strolling through the wooded areas in the cooler air watching for any signs of anything unusual, the mention in the letter of the “Green Man” causing Marion to inspect several trees for carvings and man made markings.
As Marion and Reginald returned to their hotel, they were stopped by the desk clerk, a message having been left by Walter. Using the telephone to call their office in London, Walter advised Marion of the location he had discovered of Robin Hood’s Bower, a little, pre-Christian enclosure close to Knowl Hill and Maidenhead thicket, some distance from Henley. Thanking Walter for the update, Marion relayed the information to Reginald who was enthused that the investigation had a fresh lead.
Mapping the location of Robin Hood’s Bower, they would need to travel back to Bath, then take a coach to where the location was, at least a days travel, they decided to leave Henley that afternoon, arranging to be on the next train to Bath to begin their journey. Before leaving, Reginald left a message for his wife with Fordyce that he would not be returning until the investigation was concluded.
The two boarded the train quietly, observing for anyone that looked out of place as they were now used to the general boisterous behavior of the regatta goers.
The train ride to Bath was remarkably uneventful, arriving in Bath in the early hours of the evening, Reginald arranged for a well respected hotel equipped with a fine dining room.
Checking into their lodgings in the early evening, the Hansom Cab ride from the train station was filled with curiosities of Reginald regarding Robin Hood’s Bower, unable to place where he had heard the phrase previously.
As the two separated into their rooms to clean themselves up, they headed back downstairs for a light dinner before arranging a carriage to the area they believed Robin Hood’s Bower to be before retiring for the night.
As the sun rose, Marion readied himself for the journey, feeling somewhat ill equipped as he was unable to bring his revolver with him from London, his bag was filled with usual provisions with the addition of the wrapped up, triangular blade.
Meeting Reginald for breakfast, both ate a hearty meal of eggs and bacon before being summoned by their carriage hand for the trip to the location between the villages of Knowl Hill and Maidenhead Thicket.
The carriage was relatively modern, not the best fit for the rough roads they traveled to the village of Knowl Hill where many of the roads were constantly revealing fresh rocks after each downpour of rain, however the recent heat caused the ground to crack and turn.
Arriving in Knowl Hill, the main attraction seemed to be the large pub located at the center of town with a total of four shops around it. Reginald entered the local saddlery to secure some shovels for the digging they were going to have to do while Marion headed into the pub to see if any of the locals can give them transportation to their desired destination. After several conversations, one of the local publicans offered the services of his brother-in-law, a man named Alfred who had a cart for hire. Marion sipped his beer at the bar as he waited for Alfred to arrive, listening to the dull conversations of those around him. Reginald took the stool next to him, frustrated as he had overheard a comment about a woman by the name of Jane, and took offense.
Many of the locals discussed the terrible events in the newspaper regarding children in the post, all who joined the conversation equally as disgusted as the next.
Marion picked up a copy of the newspaper to see the latest news, the continuing investigation into the children being sent via mail, several accounts of women of ‘easy virtue’ being paid to produce children and then accepting payment from a mysterious ‘blind man’.
Marion threw the paper down in disgust as he had no idea how any form of connection could exist between the blind murderer on the train and the case of the baby farmers.
The door of the pub swung open to reveal a large man in farm attire gripping his hat in his hands and slowly walking towards Reginald. Marion rose from his seat and enquired if the man was Alfred and was relieved to find that he was. Reginald and Marion escorted Alfred to his cart where he was happy to offer them passage to the location they desired. Enquiring as to how
close the location was, Alfred advised that it was a two hour ride, close to the outskirts of another small village with lodgings where he would reside until they returned for a cart ride back to Knowl Hill.
As the cart came to a stop at a fork in the road, Alfred pointed out the location of the wooded area they were looking for, then pointed up the road they were traveling on, following the left fork to where the chimney of a tavern named “Seven Stars” was ever so slightly visible. Alfred advised he would wait at the tavern until they arrived and the three would depart from there.
Marion took up one of the shovels Reginald had purchased, lept from the wagon and began trudging into the small forest. As Reginald joined Marion in the woods, they decided to split up and search the area, after half an hour had past Reginald called out having located a strange stone, much like the stones of Stonehenge only smaller. The two moved around the area, locating several similar stones that formed a large circle in the woods.
Reginald moved around the circle of stones,curious as to what he could find by way of disturbed earth that may have been freshly harvested. Moving he found that one of the stones seemed to mark the border of the woods they were standing in and a completely open and empty field, peering out over the open space he was surprised to see two men standing in the middle of the field. Marion came to Reginald’s side unable to stop him from calling to the two men who stood some distance away.
Marion joined the conversation, enquiring about the stick and the process of Divining in an effort to appear harmless in nature and emphasize that their meeting was curious and completely coincidental.
After discussing at length the unseasonable weather and ridiculous nature of a defining stick in the middle of the field, all went their separate ways, Marion and Reginald deciding to move directly to the pub that Alfred had mentioned, leaving their shovels at the tree line as they did not want anyone to witness their potential excavation of an item on unknown importance.
Trudging towards the pub, Marion and Reginald discussed at length the strange nature of finding two strangers in the middle of a field within the same week as the discovery of the body of Cartwright, something struck them both in an uneasy way at the thought that they had just conversed with potential agents of mischief and murder.
Ordering a tall lager each from the barkeep behind the bar, Marion and Reginald wiped the sweat from their foreheads as the cooling beverages washed down their throats with no effort at all. Ordering a second each, they withdrew to a table where they sat and sipped while conversing about the odd location of the pub, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Looking around them at the other patrons, both looked at each other sideways as they both looked more closely at the man behind the bar. His face was plain in nature, yet something familiar and dangerous echoed in both their minds. Reginald was the first to recognise the man, reminding Marion of a criminal case that was mentioned regularly in the London newspapers a year or so prior. Mr Berry, mentioned as a prime suspect in an underground murder trial yet later exonerated.
Smythe entered the pub, taking a seat with his Indian man who was also joined by a second Indian man, the three of them nodding at Reginald and Marion as they entered.
Reginald was on edge, his experience of Singh and the potential lethality of his servant was nothing compared to the potentially destructive force of two large Indians who were far superior to Singh in physicality.
Reginald approached the barman and enquired regarding rooms for the evening, successfully returning to the table where Marion sat with two room keys.
Alfred emerged from the water closet and greeted Reginald and Marion who explained to him that they would be retiring within the pub for the evening.
Reginald asked Albert to return to collect them in the morning for a handsome fee.
As Marion and Reginald made their way with the little belongings they carried towards the stairs to the second floor, they were stopped briefly by the barman who informed them of the rooms, a strict curfew of 9 o’clock all were to be in their rooms with no further business or drinking to be conducted.
Strange as the curfew was, Marion thought nothing of it as he was desperate to rest and cool down from his time out in the sun.
After a long stay in their rooms, Reginald and Marion returned downstairs at approximately six o’clock having cooled themselves slightly. Reginald ordered meals for both of them, pies and pints, taking a seat at a corner booth where they could converse with minimal risk of being overheard.
Smyth and his two Indian cohorts also emerged from the staircase, sitting across the room in a similar booth and dining on a similar meal. Marion and Reginald spoke with concern, the addition of a man previously suspected of murder within London’’s underground scene mixed with the appearance of the three in the booth further away. Reginald stopped himself for drinking an additional Brandy as last call was shouted across the room, Marion paying no heed to Reginald’s restraint, ordering himself another pint, his footing already slightly unsteady.
*
The clock in the bar could be heard through the thin doors of the rooms Marion and Reginald were residing in, chiming with one tone.
Both were currently situated in room number six, of the two they had been given, room six had the best chance of avoiding confrontation, the window opening above a smaller landing, where a thick drainage pipe allowed them access to the ground.
Reginald was first to make his exit as no other sounds could be heard within the walls of the establishment, the plan the two had concocted was to return to the woods and dig by lantern light to avoid any other potential surprises.
As Reginald took hold of the window frame, a knock echoed from outside, Reginald and Marion both concealing themselves and watching from their window, their view obscured,yet three shapes were clearly visible at the back door of the establishment. After muffled voices for a moment, the three shapes moved towards the front of the pub.
Marion and Reginald moved to the door of the room, cracking it open to see if anything could be heard. Both did not dare to brave the corridor to the stairs, having noted that the walk up the stairs and along the corridor was a maze of creaking floorboards and swelling timber.
After failing to hear anything, Reginald took a position at the window as Marion picked up his chamber pot as he opened the door to the room. Both knew that needed to see what was happening, Marion was to sneak out, if caught, emptying his chamber pot, his only excuse while Reginald moved to investigate from the building exterior.
Marion moved silently, sliding his feet across the rigged area of the corridor, keeping his balance, making his way down the stairs and taking cover by the bar, he could hear the sound of horses and a cart moving away from the front door of the pub.
He moved to the front door to see if anything was visible, yet the darkness was thick like a curtain across the window.
As Marion turned to head back towards the staircase he was shocked to be met by the imposing figure of Mr Berry, in his hands, a double barrelled shotgun pointed at Marion’s abdomen.
Reginald took great care in moving down to the landing and down the drain pipe to the ground, he moved silently compared to his usual lack of grace towards the front of the building. Concealing himself by a stack of barrels he briefly caught sight of three shadows sitting on a cart disappear into the blackness with no lantern.
Reginald muttered to himself about how hard it was going to be to get back up to the window, turning on his heel and carefully climbing the drainpipe.
Mr Berry demanded to know what Marion was out of bed, pulling the hammers back on his shotgun. Marion offered the pathetic excuse that he was searching for Reginald who was sleepwalking and he heard his voice outside.
Berry face was that of a man willing to pull the trigger without hesitation, Marion agreeing to everything Berry demanded, returning directly to his room, the barrels of the shotgun following the back of his head as he walked.
Marion closed the door of room six and immediately moved to the window in time to see the frustrated Reginald doing his best to reach the window frame, taking him by the hand, Marion heaved Reginald into the room before explaining what he had heard and how he nearly took two barrels of buckshot to the gut.
*
As the sun began its ascent over the horizon, Reginald and Marion made their way down stairs under the careful watch of Mr Berry before making their way outside and began to search the surrounding area for tracks of the horses and cart they had heard and seen the night before. Unable to determine any concrete direction that the cart could have gone, both wandered down the road to where they had left their shovels.
Marion and Reginald both shocked as they came to the field that they had met Smythe and his Indian accomplice at, a large hole right next to where they had stood and conversed freshly dug. Marion and Reginald both cursed in frustration, whatever they had come to discover had already been found and removed the very night they had barely survived under the rules of an underworld murderer for hire.
Making their way back to the pub, the two sat and ate a small breakfast until Alfred appeared, his cart and horses hitched outside. The two bought Alfred a large breakfast before leaving the Seven Stars Tavern at a slow pace, both wishing it to disappear from view much faster than it was.
