Monday morning the 5th of June, the unseasonably hot weather refused to give way to any form of cool breeze in the air. Reginald and Marion impatiently sat in the back of Albert’s cart, Reginald was struggling with the overpowering desire to contact Inspector Craddock and call in the cavalry, yet Marion was hesitant considering the only lead they had was an Englishman traveling with two Indian associates.
After a long discussion in hushed tones in the back of the cart, Marion agreed that Reginald needed to make the phone call to Scotland Yard, their best chance of finding them was to have them intercepted by Scotland Yard as they travelled by train or road.
As the cart came to a halt at the train station in Bath, Reginald spoke roughly to the station master, marching to the office where a telephone was accessible. Reginald dialled the number of Scotland Yard, connecting to Inspector Craddock who was sitting in his office. Reginald’s introduction was met with the usual laughter and inconsequential attitude he had come to expect from Craddock. Explaining the recent exploits of the investigation, the shotgun wielding tavern owner, the two Indians and the Englishman and that they required the assistance of Scotland Yard and Inspector Longtree at Henley to survey and identify the three men most likely traveling in the direction of London, their destination either London or Mortlake.. Craddock was dubious at the request, as there seemed to be no evidence of a crime in the description given by Reginald, however Reginald persisted, explaining that this was a similar situation to that of the curious items discovered in the Chinese gangster den, objects of intense power and darkness, an item currently in the possession of the Englishman and his Indian cohorts.
Craddock hung up the phone from Reginald with a furrowed brow, calling out for Detective Sergeant Craig to summon some of his most trusted and covert men to gather in his office. Craddock then picked up the phone demanding to be connected to the Constabulary in Henley, Inspector Longtree, his intended call recipient.
*
Reginald and Marion boarded the first available train from Bath to the interchange at Twyford, the central interchange where any passengers wanting to travel to London would have to go through.
As their train pulled into the station, two police constables stood vacantly on the platform, observing for who exited the train. The constables immediately approached Reginald and Marion, advising them to follow to the office of the station master and that Inspector Longtree was waiting for their call.
Reginald picked up the phone in the station master’s office, Inspector Longtree’s excitable voice coming through the speaker. Longtree explained that he had received a telephone call from Scotland Yard, a covert operation to follow three men, two of whom were Indian’s. He then reported the outstanding work of his constables who had spotted the curious trio boarding a train from Twyford on the London Line no more than an hour previous. Pleased that Longtree had already contacted Scotland Yard with the update, Reginald commended Longtree for his brisk police work before hanging up and dialling Scotland Yard.
Connecting through to Craddock, Reginald listened intently as Craddock explained that he had a small party waiting for the trio at London, while Detective Inspector Craig and a few other undercover officers had moved further abroad and were boarding trains outside London in the incoming lines.
Reginald advised he and Marion were boarding a train from Twyford and would be in pursuit as soon as possible.
Reginald and Marion sat quietly in their booth on the train taking stock of their current situation in case of any trouble. With nothing more than the triangular blade in the hands of Marion and Reginald wielding his cane, Marion felt dramatically under armed, while Reginald smiled with amusement at the thought of wrapping some Indian Gentlemen on the head with his trusty cane.
Both Reginald and Marion were unable to feel at ease, knowing that the men that they pursued were now solely in the hands of Scotland Yard to apprehend. As the train pulled into London Central Station, Reginald made for the office of the station master, calling through to Craddock who demanded the two of them come immediately to his office.
*
Reginald marched into Craddock’s office briskly expecting to see the two large Indian men and Smythe apprehended. Marion followed slowly, scanning everywhere in the Yard for any signs of distress.
Craddock rose from his desk as he welcomed Reginald and Marion, offering them a drink and a seat across from him. Craddock then gave his account of the proceedings, Craddock explained how Detective Sergeant Craig was the first to identify the three men. He sat inconspicuously behind them on the train, following them through to London where a party of police constables were waiting. The two Large Indian men were taken into custody, however Craig lost sight of the Englishman in the mass evacuation of the train as it had reached the end of the line. Sadly he was unable to reacquire the man, no one saw him get off the train, after a search was conducted, there was no sign of him.
The two Indian gentlemen were aware of their rights and gave the police the cards of their lawyers, well respected Barristers, unable to detain the Indian men as they carried nothing on their person of any contraband, they had no choice but to let the Indian men go.
Craddock was not impressed with Reginald and Marion, the operation conducted yielding no results and having no reason to suspect anything dangerous, Craddock advised Reginald and Marion to pause before contacting him for any form of police intervention without due cause. He did not wish to repeat the embarrassing outcome of the day's events.
*
Reginald and Marion returned to Reginald’s home, Jane not willing to engage with her husband as she was still furious at being sent home early from their family retreat. Marion apologized
and moved to the study where Reginald had summoned Singh to join them. The three of them sitting in the study, Marion enquired of Singh as to any details about Indian gentlemen who disregard their national dress and donning tweed suits. Singh offering very little by way of information, only that they were most likely more acclimated to living in London. Spending the night under Reginald’s roof, the two were relieved to be resting in a place where they felt safe.
The morning came with its usual comforts of home, a late start and a large breakfast, Reginald announcing to Marion his plan for them was to follow up with Bartholemew and follow up with the Funeral Parlour that the carriage had belonged to that was sighted outside John D’s house in Mortlake.
Calling through to Bart, Reginald arranged a meeting at their office within the hour to discuss what he had discovered.
*
Bartholomew what a rough man, stout and sturdy, his broad shoulders resembling more of a brick than a man. Reginald was impressed with his acquisition of Bart, a strong man who knew how to follow orders and was not afraid of an old fashioned melee.
Marion and Reginald sat in their usual chairs as Bart explained the curious circumstances he had witnessed, the removal of something by a funeral house, yet it was not a body, then recounting the strange design of the house in Mortlake and the centuries of extensions and additions it had suffered.
Reginald and Marion made their way down Charing Cross Road, not far from their office to the large building of ‘Rouse’s Funeral Parlour’, the large gates accessible to their private carriages. Making their way inside they were met by a clerk who spoke with a soft and reassuring tone. Marion took the lead, explaining that Reginald had lost one of his children, the clerk then retreating to fetch Mr Rouse.
As the clerk disappeared, Marion and Reginald quickly looked around the room as they were now alone, Marion flipping through the appointment book over the dates of the weekend to see if there was anything relating to Mortlake, yet finding nothing.
Three doors were around the room, one leading to the coffin selection room, one that the clerk had exited through, the third was for sitting and discussing arrangements. Jonas Rouse entered the room, walking over to Reginald, offering his sympathies. Reginald was unsure as to what to say, Marion stepping in and discussing the details, Reginald lowering his head and not speaking. Marion walked with Rouse into the viewing room for the coffins and numerous arrangements, telling Reginald to sit and rest.
As Marion discussed the details with Rouse, slowly asking questions of each and every item available for a tasteful funeral. Reginald took the opportunity to wander around the display rooms, using the distraction of Marion to venture further into the establishment. Marion then followed Rouse to another room filled with floral arrangement books.
Reginald slipped through the door that Rouse had originally entered through, finding himself in a courtyard at the rear of the building. Looking around the space, two smaller buildings littered
the surrounds, the carriage house in the back corner, another small building off to the right of the large gates that led to the street. Reginald walked casually to the stables, a small boy sweeping out the straw and hay into a large crate.
Reginald continued his casual walk, seeing a set of double doors leading back into the main building, making sure there were no eyes watching him, Reginald slipped through the double doors to find himself descending down a darkened stairwell. Turning the knob on the wall to
ignite the gas lights that followed the stairs downward, he found himself in front of a heavy oak door. Entering the door, his hand on his revolver that he had tucked into his waistband back at the office, he was shocked by the odor that greeted him, looking around the room that had a number of low lamps, shelves containing all manner of chemicals, jards containing unseen items and four large steel tables, he realized he was standing in the preparation room, where bodies were made ready for viewing.
Walking around the room he came across a wardrobe filled with suits and dresses, another small room filled with makeup and hair brushes. At the rear of the room he paused to see a small oak door with heavy iron hinges, a large lock kept it from being accessed, looking closely it was unlike any he had ever seen, a large and curious mechanism visible on its face.
Reginald jumped as a voice echoed across the room, someone unknown to Reginald was calling out to see who had accessed the preparation room, Reginald quickly assumed a woeful pose, an employee of the funeral parlour appeared, explaining that he was not supposed to be in this part of the building and if he could please return to the main area.
Marion and Rouse continued their discussion regarding arrangements, Rouse breaking his chain of thought realizing that he recognised Marion from somewhere. Marion explaining his former role at the city morgue, Rouse sparking a whole new conversation regarding his former work with Dr Spencer and how small the world of medicine was, a calm and friendly tone in his voice.
Reginald, being led by the employee, appeared behind Rouse and Marion, Marion rushing to Reginald and grabbing him by the shoulders, acting out his concern. The employee spoke to Rouse about where he had found Reginald wandering.
Concluding their business as Marion explained he needed to get Reginald home, Rouse would send his carriage the following morning to collect the body, Marion giving the address of the office rather than Reginald’s home address as that would be a situation he would struggle to explain.
*
Reginald let out a cry of anger as he walked through the office, Marion running to see what was causing the distress, discovering a near empty liquor cart. Sighing briefly Marion was also concerned as he looked around the space, things were not as they had been left prior to their holiday weekend. Nothing appeared to be missing, however all of the rooms had been affected by the intrusion. Special attention had been paid to the books on the walls of the office and Marion’s private collection of occult literature.
Reginald sat back in his office chair grumbling as he informed Marion of all he saw in the Funeral House, drawing attention to the locked door he discovered in the preparation room, Marion agreeing that it was likely whatever was happening worth investigating was undoubtedly behind that door.
Marion made arrangements with Seamus, getting through locks and moving undetected was the specialty of Seamus who agreed to meet that evening for whatever Marion needed. Reginald then summoned Bart, arranging for him to also join them in their attempt to breach the door that evening, all parties agreeing to meet at 11 o’clock on the corner of where the Funeral House was located.
*
Singh stood silently in the darkness, hiding his presence from the street lamps and their dim glow. Across the street, Marion and Seamus conversed on a bench inconspicuously, Reginald and Bart strolling side by side around the block so as to not draw attention. As bells sounded in time with the 11 tolls of Big Ben in the distance, Seamus rose from his seat and silently moved towards the front door of Rouse’s Funeral Parlour, within a few moments he disappeared inside having breached the lock effortlessly. After a few minutes of silence, Seamus emerged briefly and motioned his arm twice, summoning the others to enter.
Marion was first to enter Rouse’s establishment, a moment later Singh, Bart and Reginald all paced their entrance. The building was silent, dark and empty, no one manning the main office in the late hours, the 5 men all moved quietly through to the exit of the building, Seamus asking Marion where he was to gain entry next, Reginald stepping in and pointing to the large double door leading to the preparation area.
Again gaining access to the door as if it was already unlocked, Seamus breezed through the door and down the stairs followed closely by Reginald, Marion and Bart with Singh standing guard just inside the doors.
Seamus immediately took a backwards step at the smell of formaldehyde filling his nostrils, Reginald pressing him forward in the direction of the locked door. Composing himself, Seamus dropped to one knee and pulled is lock picking utensils from inside his coat, this was not the average lock, its face covered in strange symbols and rotating markings. His first few minutes of trying to get through the lock were frustrating for Seamus until finally seeing the patterns of where each mechanism needed to be. Finally hearing the familiar pop of the clasp releasing the pin, he removed the lock and swung the door open in a slow and swollen swing.
Bart immediately took the lead into the darkness, Seamus nodding to Marion in recognition that his work was done and that it was his time to leave. Bart lit the small lantern he carried, revealing a second door with a similar lock to the one he had just opened. Seamus turning on his heel and heading down the stairs, recognising the patterns from the previous lock, he popped it easily before heading back up the stairs and heading back to the surface. Reginald moved to the front of the line lighting his similarly small lantern and heading down the stairs to the freshly open door. Marion followed suit, lighting his lantern and taking his pistol from his bag.
Reginald told Bart to stay at the entrance and conceal himself, yet to be alert if they called for assistance. Reginald and Marion descended into a damp tunnel, hearing the splashing of water as their feet reached the bottom of the stairs. They moved forward along the crudely shaped walls, every so often the roof of the tunnel sagged, supported by fresh crossbeams and recent carpentry.
Pressing on, the two reached a fork in the tunnel, Reginald calling for Bart to join them as they were not sure where they were headed.
Marion pointed to the left tunnel, trying his luck and as it seemed to have the more recent supports against the walls and ceiling. Without reason to argue, Reginald and Bart followed Marion who moved slowly, the noises of scattering rats disappearing into the distance ahead of them to escape the oncoming light.
Looking at the ground, Marion could see damp shoe prints on the ground where the water did not completely cover the dirt, a well trodden path from the number of different sized prints. Time seemed to disappear in this tunnel, unsure as to how long they had been in the tunnel, a small alcove opened to their left, a ladder heading up into darkness. Marion deciding to see where it made street access, advising Reginald and Bart to remain at the base.
Marion began climbing, for some distance he was unable to see the top, without realizing, Marion was now some 20 feet above where he began his climb. He noticed a change in the walls of the alcove, mud brick changing to red brick, to wood to stone. Listening intently he could hear muffled voices coming through the wooden paneling roughly 25 feet from where he began. Marion knew he must be well above the street level where they made entry to the preparation room, two short staircases leading down, he was now nearly 30 feet above the lowest point they had been exploring. Looking up, he was still unable to see the top of the ladder.
Deciding to head back to where Marion and Bart were keeping watch, Marion reached the bottom, sweat pouring from him as he informed Bart and Reginald of what he had seen and heard. With no idea how far they had traveled underground, they concluded the ladder was leading into some form of tall building, yet no building came to mind within the radius of where they had entered the tunnel.
Pressing forward for some minutes, another alcove with another ladder appeared before them, looking at the ground, the footprints they had been following seemed to be less in number, the tunnel not going any further beyond the ladder. Marion again began to climb, Riginald and Bart
following, 15 feet into the air, Marion came to a trapdoor of sturdy timber. Pushing against the door, the timber gave slightly, yet the resistance he felt made him think there was something sitting on top of the door. Moving higher on the ladder, he pushed with his shoulder, able to create a small gap for him to see under the door, the underside of a large rug visible to him. Pushing harder and getting his arm out from under the rug, Marion began to pull the rug clear of the trapdoor, the dark room around he could see through the gap he had created revealing itself in the dim light of his lantern.
Marion stretched as he stood in the center of a small room, its walls lined with books, a desk off to one side and a fireplace that was bare opposite. Signaling Marion and Bart to enter, the space, Marion began to scan the books, all of which were on the topic of the occult, old and worn all of the manuscripts had been read numerous times.
Reginald and Bard moved around the room silently, Bart moving to the door and keeping watch, the dark hallway showing no movement or signs of light.
Marion continued to move around the bookcases, physics, alchemy and occult practices in no particular order scattered on each shelf.
Moving into the hallway, Reginald moved to the left while Marion moved to the right, both opening the doors carefully, Reginald discovering a kitchen, Marion a bathroom. Pressing on through the rooms, a staircase leading up to the second floor of the building, a second staircase leading down. Bart followed carefully, taking a position at the stairs. Moving past the stairs, Reginald opened the last door on the left, finding himself behind a counter of a shopfront. Large bookcases littered the walls, glass windows across the room revealing the cobblestone streets of London. Marion and Reginald moved to the windows, looking outward to gauge where they had ended up after traversing the tunnel.
Still in London, they were able to see familiar pubs and tea houses, yet they had moved from the Charing Cross district through towards the less reputable part of town, the sign above the windows they were looking through reading “Vintage Bookstore A. Hengst”. Taking a not of the location, they headed back to where Bart was waiting at the stairs, looking up Bart signaled with his hand that here may be someone residing above. Silently ascending the staircase, Marion watched every step for timber creaking under their feet. Unable to keep their footsteps from creating noise, they reached the landing at the top of the stairs, two doors across the landing from each other could be seen. Marion listened carefully, he could hear the faint sound of snoring coming from the door located above where the bookshop front was located.
Marion held his up for Reginald to stop moving as he began to open the door from where the snoring was coming from. Pushing the door open, an unkept small room, a single bed containing an elderly man, a single desk with paperwork and a single candle, a small wardrobe and dresser, the bare essentials of a bedroom. Marion signaled for Reginald to enter as he moved to the far side of the bed, the bedside table revealing a thick pair of glasses on top.
Marion and Reginald both paused to realize the gravity of what they were doing, this was not just another invasion into Limehouse where it was expected to come to blows. Marion and Reginald both pulled their scarves over their faces, Marion placing the man’s glasses into his pocket, the thickness revealing that this mind may struggle to see without them.
Marion had his pistol trained at the man’s head, grabbing him with his free hand by the scruff of the neck and shaking him awake.
The man squealed with fear at the sudden intrusion into his bedroom, Marion doing all of the talking as both he and Reginald knew that Reginald’s voice was far too recognisable if heard again in an official capacity.
The man relieved himself in his bed, his elderly body unable to keep control, the smell of urine wafting through the bedroom, Marion began his line of questioning regarding the trapdoor, to which the man could only reply how there was money downstairs and he wanted to be left alone.
Marion was not deterred, ordering the man to his feet and holding him tightly as he was forced down the staircase to the room where the trapdoor had let them in.
Marion continued his line of questioning as to who was traveling through his study into the tunnels.
Reginald was feeling very uncomfortable, he felt sorry for the man that Marion was ordering about, yet looking at Marion, he held his tongue as the certainty in Marion’s eyes was clear. Marion continued to push, pulling a scalpel from his bag and placing the man's hand on the desk in the study. Marion prepared to remove the man's fingers without answers. Reginald
coughed slightly to get Marion’s attention, looking seriously at his fellow partner in deep concern.
Marion changed his line of question as to the staircase leading down, learning it went through to the basement, Marion then pushing the man in the direction of the basement. Marion and the man headed through the kitchen, passing Bart who was minding his own business and refusing to interfere.
Along the walls of the basement, older and decrepit books lined the walls, old furniture scattered across the floor. Marion pushed the man into a barely standing chair. The elderly man could now be seen more clearly under the light in the basement, his long, gray hair and heavily wrinkled features shadowing his eyes.
Marion questioned again about customers that matched the description of Smythe and his Indian accomplices, the man offering no response of any use. Marion probed for further information regarding any topic he could think of to ask an occult bookshop owner.
Marion started naming unexplained names and books he and Walter had failed to find. The man stated that he was a scholar and offered all assistance he could in the matter of literature, a desperate attempt to stop the intruders for hurting him.
Reginald whispered one work, ‘Dulcarnon’, the man not showing any signs of recognising the word, yet offered to find it for them in one of the books in his library, asking for his glasses. Marion handed the man his glasses yet moved behind the man so he was not able to see either of their faces.
Allowing the man to move, he returned to his study and pulled a thick volume from one of the shelves, his hands trembling with a mix of rear, panic and age.
Reginald let out another whisper, ‘Olaus Wormius’, the man pausing momentarily before continuing on his search for the Dulcarnon, the volume entitled “Cornelius Agrippa’s Mysteries of the Veil”, flicking through pages and looking for a passage.
The man was unable to recall any information regarding Wormius, he sat rigidly in his chair as Marion and Reginald discussed the what else there was to ask for, Marion placing the volume on the desk and requesting the references to the Dulcarnon.
The man flipped the pages to a passage and passed the book back to Marion.
***Insert passage***
Marion nodded to Reginald that they were most likely not going to find anything else useful. Reginald agreed and slowly withdrew from the study, leaving Marion alone standing behind the man who sat quietly in his chair.
Marion asked the man what his interest was with the works he had littered in between his occult library by authors such as Sir Isaac Newton and his interest with Alchemy.
The man broke into verse regarding Newton’s work and its links to Alchemy and the occult, rambling for several minutes before realizing he was alone in his study, the evening air passing through the kitchen, the side access door leading to Early Street in Seven Dials still open.
