The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl

by Theodora Goss

  MARY: Please. Just stop.

  “Aren’t we supposed to be meeting with Ayesha?” said Catherine, looking around the room. “We’re all here—well, except Mary, and I don’t know if she’s going to make it. She’s still waiting for Holmes to wake up.

  “My poor Miss Mary,” said Mrs. Poole, coming in again, this time with the tea tray. “I should send some sandwiches over there. Who knows what sort of food the Baker Street boys have.”

  “Speaking of which, I didn’t get any lunch,” said Diana. “How about some sandwiches for me? And jam pockets. I saw some in the kitchen.”

  “Patience, impossible child,” said Mrs. Poole. “I’m bringing up a proper tea for Madam Ayesha. This is her last meal before she leaves for Budapest, and I want to make sure she sees the best of our English traditions.”

  “I’ll help you bring it up,” said Laura. “No, I insist, Mrs. Poole. You have too much to do already. Think of it as the Styrian way.”

  Lucinda watched these exchanges with amusement. They were all affectionate in tone, even when the words themselves were not. This was what families should be—their members might not always agree, but they always loved one another. Alas that her own family had not been like that! Throughout her childhood, her father had been a cold, repressive presence. She and her mother had both been frightened of him, and had found solace in each other’s company. Her mother… she would remember the good days, when they were together, rather than the sight of her mother lying dead on the ground like Mrs. Raymond. She had not spoken to Alice about her mother’s death. Perhaps she ought to?

  The front doorbell rang.

  “Who’s going to get that?” asked Diana. But Catherine was still showing her book to Beatrice and paying no attention to such trivial matters as who was at the door.

  “Would you like me to—” said Lucinda, half rising from the window seat.

  “No, I’ll go,” said Diana, in a tone of disgust for a world in which she would need to answer the front door. “Do I have to do everything around here?”

  But someone had preceded her, because a moment later, in came Alice, followed by Ayesha. “If you’ll give me your coat, ma’am,” said Alice. She was no longer the Alice who had fought Margaret Trelawny or held her dying mother in her arms. She was once more the perfect maid.

  Ayesha looked at her with surprise, then gave her the dramatic black coat she had been wearing. Today, the President of the Alchemical Society was attired in a dress the color of paprika, with black embroidery on the sleeves and hem. Her braids were twisted up into a high chignon.

  “Hello, Beatrice,” she said, “and greetings to the Athena Club. Where is your president? Is she not here with you?”

  “She’s still with Mr. Holmes,” said Beatrice. “I don’t think she is going to make our meeting.”

  “Well, then we shall have to carry on without her.” Ayesha sat in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. As though in response to a command, the others also took their places—Catherine and Diana on the sofa, and Beatrice once more on the window seat next to Lucinda. Alice looked undecided, as though not sure whether to stay or go back to the kitchen, but just at that moment Mrs. Poole came in with a tray of sandwiches, followed by Laura and Archibald, also bearing trays.

  “Madam Ayesha,” said Mrs. Poole, “Would you care for refreshments? There are sandwiches, and Victoria sponge, and two kinds of tart, apple and lemon, and a German chocolate cake, or at least that’s what it’s called in Mrs. Beeton’s book, for those who prefer something more continental. I’ve never baked such a cake before, so I hope it tastes all right!”

  Finally, Bast herself came in like a black shadow. She rubbed against Ayesha’s skirt until Madam President picked her up. Then, she curled into a circle on Ayesha’s lap.

  “If you will all sit,” said Ayesha. “Yes, all of you, including you, Mrs. Poole. I know how necessary you are to the Athena Club, and have no intention of excluding you from these proceedings. And Archibald as well.”

  “And me?” came a voice from the doorway. It was Mary, bareheaded but still taking off her gloves. “I see you were about to start without me. No, that’s perfectly all right—I know I’m late. I’m happy to tell you, though, that Mr. Holmes is awake. I sent Jimmy to tell Dr. Watson, who insisted on coming over in a cab even though Dr. Radko had told him to stay in bed and rest. So he’s with Mr. Holmes now. I’ll go back after our meeting. Don’t mind me, I’m just going to get myself a cup of tea. I don’t remember the last time I slept, not really. Madam President, if you would continue?” She pulled off her gloves, poured herself a cup of tea, and settled into the other armchair.

  “Welcome to the meeting, Madam President,” said Ayesha, smiling in a way that was no doubt meant to be welcoming but did not make her any less formidable. “Let us get directly to business. Yesterday, I visited the headquarters of the English branch of the Société des Alchimistes. That building has been put to inappropriate uses more than once—Seward used it for his meetings with Van Helsing, Moriarty used it for his Order of the Golden Dawn, and I imagine Tera would have made it her London headquarters. Walking through its empty rooms, I was faced with a decision. I could sell the building, in which case it would be put to other uses—or I could reopen the English branch.”

  “Reopen it!” said Mary, leaning forward. She seemed astonished. “That’s a terrible idea, after all the trouble it’s caused.”

  “You did not allow me to finish,” said Ayesha mildly. “I could reopen the English branch, with Beatrice as chairwoman.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s different.” Mary leaned back. “If Beatrice were in charge—still, I don’t know. Do we want alchemists in London?”

  “There are already alchemists in London, or at least in England,” said Beatrice. “This way we would know who they are. They could be monitored and regulated. I would make certain they adhered to ethical standards. But, Madam President, I wish you had discussed this matter with me beforehand.” Her voice was calm, but Lucinda could tell that she was upset at not having been consulted.

  Ayesha waved her hand, as though Beatrice’s statement was of no concern. “You would have accepted the responsibility in any case. I did not have time to spare, and telling you together with your fellow members of the Athena Club is more efficient. This morning I made financial arrangements for Jenny Bucket to be treated at a sanatorium in Switzerland. Lady Crowe has helped her a great deal, but even I cannot cure tuberculosis. There she will receive the best treatment available. Then, I stopped in Scotland Yard to discuss the case of Margaret Trelawny with your friend Inspector Lestrade.”

  “He’s not my friend,” Diana muttered so quietly that only Lucinda could have heard it.

  “She is still in prison in Penzance. Based on your testimony and the evidence of the pistol shot, she will be charged with the murder of Helen Raymond. Some of you will likely be called to testify in court. However, I do not know if she will be convicted—according to Lestrade, passersby saw a fog around the keep that morning, and she claims that she shot at a shadow in the fog, thinking it was an intruder and not her friend Helen. She is well known in those parts as a respectable woman, and the jury will likely be on her side. I do not think we have seen the last of her.”

  “And I don’t think she’s going to stop trying to conquer the world,” said Mary. “From what I overheard while I was her prisoner, she struck me as a ruthless, ambitious woman.”

  “Those are not necessarily bad qualities,” said Catherine.

  Alice shook her head. “You didn’t know her the way I did. She’s a bad’un, as Mrs. Poole would say. I hope she’s going to stay behind bars, even if she doesn’t hang for my mother’s murder.”

  “Lydia,” continued Ayesha, “the gravestone I ordered for your mother’s grave in the churchyard in Perranuthnoe should be arriving this week.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” said Alice.

  “Our final order of business concerns Archibald.” The Orangutan Man turned to
look at Ayesha. “He cannot stay in London.”

  “But this is where he lives,” said Catherine. “You can’t just take him away from us.”

  “Nevertheless, he cannot stay—you know this to be true. You have already exposed him to Lestrade, who made some pointed remarks about the ‘queer creature,’ as he said, that you kept as a footman. If he should start questioning what Archibald is or where he comes from, it could expose the Société des Alchimistes once more.”

  “Is that your primary concern?” asked Beatrice. “The welfare of the Société des Alchimistes?”

  “What about Archibald and what he wants?” asked Catherine heatedly. “He is not a beast anymore. He can’t simply be sent away somewhere, or put back in a cage.”

  “Then we shall ask him,” said Ayesha. “Archibald, would you like to come with me? I will take you back to Borneo, where I shall find a tribe that will accept you, perhaps not in the forest where you were captured, but close by. Or would you prefer to remain here?”

  Archibald looked at her with large, dark eyes. “I want to go home,” he said. Lucinda could hear the longing in his voice.

  “Well then,” said Ayesha. “I think the matter is settled. If someone could pack his bags?”

  “I’ll do it,” said Alice. “He doesn’t have much. I wish he were staying—but if he wants to go home, then he should. We’ll miss you, Archibald.” She stroked his hand for a moment before standing up.

  “Thank you, Lydia. And do you feel that you will receive adequate training here in using your energic powers?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Alice. “Martin is teaching me. He’s a very good teacher. And I don’t want to throw lightning bolts or anything like that. I don’t want to be like Queen Tera.”

  “Or like me?” said Ayesha, with another of her cold smiles. “You will quickly surpass any mere mesmerist. When you feel ready to learn more than he can teach—and you will, in time—come to me and I will undertake your education myself.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Alice, in a voice that clearly conveyed I never shall. “May I go now?”

  Just then, the doorbell rang. “That must be Mr. Vincey,” said Mrs. Poole. “You mentioned that you were expecting him, ma’am. You go pack for Archibald, Alice dear. I’ll get the door.”

  Ayesha rose, picking the black cat up in her arms. “As for Bast—”

  “Oh no, you don’t!” said Catherine. “You may take Archibald, since he wants to go, but you’re not taking Bast away from us!”

  Ayesha looked at the Puma Woman with amusement. “You wish to keep a two-thousand-year-old resurrected mummy cat here at the Athena Club?”

  “She’s a cat,” said Diana. “Just like any other cat. She ate half a slice of ham that Catherine gave her this morning, and tried to steal Omega’s ham too!”

  “Ham!” said Mrs. Poole from the doorway. Behind her stood Leo Vincey, looking as handsome and discontented as ever. The scars that Lucinda had left on his cheek were almost completely gone. She still felt ashamed of herself for having inflicted them.

  “When did those rascals get ham, and who gave it to them? No wonder they never eat the mice they catch, but leave them underfoot for me to step on!” She strode into the room as though to scold one of them—whichever one of them was responsible for such an outrage.

  “Well, to be honest, most of us did,” said Catherine. “It was at breakfast. I gave them a bit, and so did Diana, and even Justine—yes, you did, I saw you,” she said, although Justine was shaking her head. “Lucinda and Beatrice just sat there quietly drinking their noxious liquids, but they certainly didn’t stop us. Only Mary is completely absolved of responsibility.”

  “And I brought the ham,” said Alice. “I mean, it was part of breakfast, but I did bring up a bit more than usual, knowing the cats might want some.” She ducked out through the doorway, no doubt to pack the few possessions Archibald had acquired during his stay at the Athena Club.

  Mrs. Poole shook her head. “You are all quite impossible.”

  “Are you ready, my love?” asked Leo, maneuvering his way around Mrs. Poole. “The train to Dover leaves in an hour.”

  Ayesha looked around at the assorted members of the Athena Club. “I am. Try, if you can, all of you, to stay out of mischief for a while. And if you need me—well, try not to. I do, after all, have a scientific society to run. The Société des Alchimistes does not manage itself, you know. Among other things, we have the next issue of the journal to get out!”

  “We don’t get into mischief,” said Mary indignantly. “It sort of happens to us, or around us, or in our general vicinity.”

  Ayesha looked at her with an expression of amusement before turning and walking out the door. A moment later, she was standing in the hallway with Leo Vincey’s arm around her waist, holding Archibald’s hand and waiting for Alice to bring his possessions. Then they had climbed into a cab, and they were gone. Lucinda saw their cab driving away down Park Terrace toward Marylebone Road.

  When Alice was once again seated on the carpet next to the fireplace, drinking a cup of tea, Mary said, “Well. It’s always an adventure having her around, isn’t it?”

  No one had a response to that, although Catherine rolled her eyes.

  “I have an order of business myself,” said Mary. “Mrs. Poole, please sit. You can move Bast out of Ayesha’s chair—I mean, it’s not her chair, obviously. Unless you want to put Bast on your lap?”

  “Not likely,” said Mrs. Poole, brushing Bast off the chair and sitting where the President of the Alchemical Society had sat. Bast protested with a loud meow, then went over and jumped up on the sofa between Diana and Catherine.

  “We all discussed it last night—I mean, the members of the Athena Club discussed it. Alice, we would like you to become a member.”

  Alice, who had just taken a sip of her tea, spit it up, mostly into her cup but partly on the carpet. “Oh no!” she cried, looking at the drops of tea soaking into the carpet in front of her. Frantically, she soaked them up with her napkin. “I’ll get this clean, Mrs. Poole, I promise.”

  “Never mind that,” said the housekeeper. “I’ll do it later. Just answer Miss Mary’s question. It would be a great honor for our Alice, miss,” she said to Mary.

  “I think Alice has to be the judge of that,” said Justine. She had not spoken for so long—the Giantess was often quiet for long periods of time—that Lucinda was startled to hear her voice. “Alice may not consider it such an honor. After all, we are members of this club because we are, as Catherine calls us, monsters.”

  Alice stood up. “It’s not that. It’s just—I don’t think I’m very good at adventures. Mary is so clever, and Catherine is so brave, and Justine is so strong. I don’t feel as though I’m any of those things. I don’t want to be kidnapped and put in dungeons again, or see my friends in danger. I was glad that I could help Miss Beatrice free Martin and the other mesmerists, but I just want to be a kitchen maid. At least for now.”

  “For now,” said Mary. “So that means someday—”

  “Don’t be daft,” said Diana. “You were as clever as any of us! And you can break locks with a lightning bolt. I wish I could do that, although my way is quicker and more reliable.”

  “And as brave,” said Catherine. “You stayed to help Holmes when you could have gotten away.”

  “And you are one of us,” said Beatrice. “You may not have been experimented on directly, but your powers are the result of experiments in biological transmutation by Dr. Raymond, passed on to you from your grandmother, through your mother. You are as much a monster, if Catherine wishes to use that word, as any of us.”

  “Please excuse me,” said Alice. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She put her tea-spattered napkin up to them and ran out of the room.”

  “Oh goodness,” said Mary. “What did we say?”

  Lucinda rose from the window seat. “You see, her mother died not a week ago. When my mother died—” She did not know how to explain it to th
e other members of the Athena Club. After all, none of the others had experienced what she and Alice had—their mothers dying in their arms. For a moment, a memory came back to her of her mother reaching up and touching her cheek one last time with love and tenderness before the light went out of her eyes. “I will go to Alice. I think eventually she will decide to join us, as I decided to join the Athena Club. But you must give her time.”

  She found Alice sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, sobbing. She sat beside the kitchen maid and put one arm around her.

  “It’s just that I’m not ready,” said Alice through her sobs, in a voice muffled by her hands. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

  “You will,” said Lucinda. “Transformation is difficult, is it not? It is the most difficult thing of all. You have been clever and brave and strong, but now you must rest for a while. It is out of adversity that one grows and becomes what one is meant to be—but there must be periods of peace and happiness as well. Plants must have sunshine as well as storms.”

  Alice leaned her head on Lucinda’s shoulder. “Are all vampires so philosophical?”

  Lucinda laughed. “Alice, I think you and I will become good friends. Come, dry your tears. I cannot eat cake, but you can, and I believe you need a slice of gateau au chocolat. Let us go upstairs and rejoin our friends, who are concerned for us. Friendship and chocolate cake—they do not heal all ills, but they certainly help.”

  MARY: Alice, I’m glad that you decided to join us after all.

  ALICE: It just took me a little while, miss. I mean Mary. I needed time to realize that I wasn’t just a kitchen maid any longer—that I had changed and grown.

  JUSTINE: It is not so bad to have been a kitchen maid. I learned many valuable lessons working in the kitchen of the Frankenstein family as Justine Moritz.

  ALICE: Oh, I’m grateful for all that, I assure you. If Nurse Adams, I mean Frau Gottleib, hadn’t arranged for me to be sent here from the orphanage and Mrs. Poole hadn’t decided to hire me, I don’t know where I would be right now. Still in that orphanage, like as not. Or out on the streets, as Kate and Doris were.