by Avell Kro
his methods in computation”
“and?” pressed Dolly.
“Lester said Babbage hadn’t a chance without support from the Guild and was resistant to
investing with Babbage”
“Would Lester Chilton have a reason to kill His Father and Moya?”
“Detective, Don Moya left an estate of over seven million pounds. While that is a fantastic sum of
money for most, it is nothing to the Chilton’s. Lester and Francis were close as a father and son
could be and business partners as well. Lester had more than enough money to wait out Sir
Francis’ last day on earth when he will inherit another fortune he could not spend.” Randall
finished as he dropped an ash in the ashtray on a corner table.
Dol y felt the time was right. “So why did you meet with Emilio at his hotel room the night of his
death?”
Randall smiled and paused before he answered, “I won’t ask how you knew I met with him nor
will I deny that I did.”
Randall adjusted his position to get closer to the policeman. “I met with Emilio because I wanted
to hear more about his scheme with Babbage. It intrigued me and there are interested pools of
capital that the mechanists have no influence over. I am not interested in missing out on a good
deal because some guild cronies of Chilton would get upset.”
“Was there anyone there that can corroborate your story?”
“Maybe your witness? Other than that no. It was brief, I was also staying at the Carlton I dropped
in to make a date with him for lunch.” answered Randall.
At one thirty in the morning? Dolly queried.
“Detective that may seem strange to you but we had just been carousing and gambling not a few
hours before, I imagined he would either be up and ready for more or passed out and not able to
answer his door.”
“So, you were the last one to see him alive?” said Dolly.
“No, Detective that would be whoever killed him” answered Randall.
“And you think that is Hernando?”
“The brothers never did see eye to eye. They were too different and Hernando’s good stewardship
enriched Emilio who gambled, drank and whored. You said it yourself greed is a primary
motivator, I would have Arthur get the betting book and wager, this boils down to family and
money Detective.”
Dol y thought this would go in circles unless he could find evidence beyond what he had to connect
Randall, but his gut was telling him that Randall knew more than he was letting on. “Here is my
card if you think of anything please wire me. I would be indebted.”
“Sir, I will if I recall anything. There is nothing more that I want than to help you find the culprit
and bring him to the gallows, as far as being indebted never say that to a banker, my friend,”
Wednesday the 15th of June
9:30 Scotland Yard
When Dolly entered Commissioner Mayne’s office two gentlemen were already sitting in the two
seats in front of the commissioner’s desk.
The two men stood upon his entrance, Mayne remained seated and had a sour look.
“Detective Sergeant Frederick Williamson, I would like to introduce you to French Consul Dr. Felix
Anou,” Anou was a slight man with a bald head and a goatee. Although he was an English-educated
physician and had been in the United Kingdom for decades as an attaché to the consulate; his face,
his clothes, his tone, accent, and demeanor all reeked of France.
“And this is Special Envoy of the French Government Guild Master Gerrard Saint-Yves,” said
Commissioner Mayne. Dolly struggled to understand what a Necronist was doing here. The guild’s
close relationship with Emperor Napoleon made them a foe of the Queen. Many thought they used
their scrying powers to give the Emperor an advantage on the battlefield. Other rumors were that
the Necronists negotiated a covenant between the Devil and Napoleon for his protracted life.
Between the government's concerns of the guild being saturated with enemies of the crown and
both the Catholic and Anglican Church considering their practices unholy, Parliament had never
ratified the guild in the commonwealth.
“Good Morning Sirs,” replied Dolly shaking both men’s hands.
Dr. Anou, the smaller of the two, wore a light gray suit with a matching waistcoat. His dark goatee
waxed to a point and his mustache tips curled.
The Guild Master presented himself; dressed in the classic garb of the Necronist Guild. Other than
the edge of his white shirt cuffs showing, the ominous character was cloaked entirely in black. His
long black silk brocade coat that practically brushed the floor, with two rows of pewter buttons
closing the front. On his high collar was the gold insignia denoting his rank as a Grand Master of
the Wyrding, he was upper echelon Necronist, only six had that rank.
The Commissioner continued, “Detective, it appears that the coroner’s inquiries to reach the next
of kin of Emilio Moya raised eyebrows in Haiti and they wired the French Republic.”
Dr. Anou injected, “The French government requests the Crown to support their pursuit of a
fugitive that may be on UK soil. The Emperor’s ministry will share al the pertinent facts with your
department to assist in this matter.”
The Commissioner could see the consternation on Dolly’s face and intervened to get him up to
speed “Dolly, this came from the Home Office. Walpole agreed to cooperate and offered the
Metropolitan Police Service in a sharing of intel igence and the arrest of the suspect.”
Dolly took the cue. Take your medicine. “Who will be my liaison?”
“Mr. Saint-Yves,” responded Dr. Anou.
“Not a Gendarme or at the very least one of the Emperor's Secret Police,” suggested Dolly.
Saint-Yves spoke, “Detective, The Emperor chose me because I am an authority in the arcane and
have investigated the techniques of the fugitive. I can be of considerable service to your
department and can help you to catch her.”
“You are seeking a woman?” Dolly replied. His interest was aroused.
“Yes, an ex-slave who instigated a rebellion in the protectorate of Haiti,” replied Anou.
“A colored girl?” Dolly followed.
“Most slaves in Haiti are negroes,” Stated Dr. Anou.
“Why is this of concern to the Guild?” asked Dolly.
"This is a matter of interest to the Republic of France and the security of its citizens. This woman
is engaged in unwholesome practices; his Holiness Cardinal Almont the See of the Catholic Church
as well as the Guild have deemed to be unnatural and heretical acts,” declared Dr. Anou.
"Now the Church and the Necronists are making joint proclamations. My how times have
changed," taunted Dolly. Fifty years ago when the Necronists appeared in France as a cult the
pontiff declared them heretics. If it were not for the support of Emperor Napoleon, it is feasible
that the Holy See would have sought to purge Europe of the Necronists.
Dol y took another tack, “What makes you think the fugitive is here?”
“The plantation where the revolt started was a Moya owned estate. Señor Hernando Moya was
murdered. The Colonial Police advised the government when your coroner sent a cable to
Hernando Moya to inform him as next of kin to Emilio Moya. I am not a police officer like you Mr.
Williamson but it is logical that if both Moyas were slaughtered the
same way that it is the same
murderer out to seek vengeance on the Moyas. You attempt to associate a natural cause to
supernatural incidents of Señor Moya's death and that has bewildered you. I can explain how he
perished," said Guild Master Saint-Yves.
Dol y crossed his arms. "Well, let’s have it,”
The Necronist met his stare.
“You found the bodies in a state of dehydration, as if all the bodies fluids are removed or as if the
body burned yet there was no sign or source of a fire. The Guild consulted with the spirit world
and we have learned that the fugitive has tormented the souls of the living by invoking the fires of
hel to appear here on earth.”
“So, you're saying you have talked with Señor Moya’s Ghost? You fellas are going to put me out of
work if you can start having spirits point out their killers," retorted Dolly.
Saint-Yves’s face never showed a variation of emotion as Dolly pressed. “Detective, I did not
partake in the seance, nor do I know if those that did, were contacted by Señor Moya or some
other spirit guide. I can guarantee you that if the woman is practicing heretical arts in London, you will need our cooperation with her capture.”
“So, you're the guild expert on Voodoo?” asked Dolly.
“What makes you ask that Detective” replied Saint-Yves. Dolly got the rise out of the Frenchman he
was looking for, not even a necronist could stay stone-faced forever.
Dolly pressed "Let’s be clear, from this point on, if you answer my questions with a question to
evade giving me the information I desire, we’re finished. Come calls from the Earl of Derby or the
Queen herself,” The detective turned to Mayne. "Take me off the case and give it to someone that
has time for this farce.”
Before Mayne could answer Gerrard spoke. “Very well. It appears you know something of the
arcane and therefore know our fugitive and likely the suspect you seek is a practitioner of Voodoo.
I have been to Haiti and understand the nature of the practices and the capabilities of the
practitioner. The woman we seek is a high-level Hougan Witch Doctor. She can twist the will of
the living and raise the dead.”
“If we can keep it straight that I am the Detective in charge, and you are a liaison with no
jurisdiction, and under no circumstances are you to act on your own then I'll give this a go. We
will apprehend her, lock her up and leave it up to our two governments to determine how justice
wil be meted out. If you agree I will make sure I share my knowledge to date and continue to
uncover during the investigation, fair enough?”
"Detective, I agree to your offer. I only suggest that when the hour arrives to capture the Hougan,
that my qualifications and the services will be required to guarantee no further deaths at the
hands of this enchantress,” replied Saint-Yves.
“We will cross that bridge when you hand over some evidence to where we can find your witch.
Where do I reach you when I need your help?"
“I will be staying at the French Consulate and can be type-wired there,” responded the Guild
master.
Dol y smiled “thank you gentleman I will be in touch and I will look forward to seeing your notes
on the incident in Haiti. With that Dolly left the office and returned to his desk.
He sat down and gave his desk a visual survey letting out a heavy sigh. He noticed at the top of the
incoming mail bin an envelope addressed to Detective Sergeant F.A. Williamson in elegant
calligraphy.
Flipping it over the envelope was sealed with wax but he could not make out the imprint. He
opened the note with his penknife noticing Rose’s ward dangling next to it.
The message read,
Dear Mr. Williamson,
You are invited to dine with Mr. Lester Chilton at the Meadhurst Manor on 24th June 1858.
Given the distance, the Chilton home will be open for you to stay as a guest on a noted evening.
Please advise us of your acceptance of the invitation and intended arrival at Meadhurst so that our
driver can meet you at the station.
Cordially,
Lester Chilton. Barronett
P .s. Dinner at ire is respectful y requested
He threw the letter on his desk, and mumbled to himself “Now I need to get my hands on a Dinner
Jacket.” when he looked up Mayne was there.
"I don't like French men in my office any more than you, Williamson but don't be making a scene
because of your pride as a detective. You have four bodies and your no closer to finding the killer
or building a case so get your nose on the grindstone, and let them help”
"Yes, sir,” replied Dolly.
"Detective, save the tone. What's the difference between these blokes and when you call on your
witch?"
"She's English,"
Mayne noticed the other detectives watching. He turned and left before Dolly and he started a
pissing match. Besides there was no need to argue with the boss, he didn’t ask for cultists to help,
and he didn’t approve of Rose. If the Home Secretary was prepared to let Necronists help on this
case while crying that the French were trying to start a riot at the gas works then pressure to solve
the case was coming from someone directly on Walpole and it was mounting.
Thursday the 16th of June
9:00 PM Weng Lo’s Tien Gow Parlor
Rose passed through the raucous smokey Tien Gow parlor. The area was packed with Chinese
migrants; it was loud, maybe rose perceived it louder since she didn’t speak the language. The
illegal gambling den was a contrast to Lo’s attempt at a high-class environment with his dealers and
staff clad in tuxedos and gowns and the bulk of the working-class patrons looking like they walked
in right off the street; many had done just that.
Even here she got looks as she followed Weng Lo’s Lieutenant, Jimmy Lin to visit Master Weng.
Rose and Weng developed an unusual relationship based on their history before she turned into a
demon hunter and Weng the chief of the Lucky Three Triad in London. Rose administered to the
Saint Luke’s children’s home where he was a benefactor. He had lived there for a time when he
first arrived in England. His tenure was well before Rose began her ministry there. Rose figured
they were about the same age. When she fell into her troubles, Weng made certain she was taken
care of when others including the church abandoned her.
Outside his office door was an imposing Chinese man in a tuxedo. He never broke his stare
continuing to observe the gambling parlor.
Jimmy knocked. Another guard peered through the view slot then opened the door admitting them
into the narrow corridor leading to Weng Lo’s office.
“Miss Rose, how good of you to visit. Did you enjoy the fleetster?” asked Weng as Rose and Jimmy
Lin entered the office. The gangster lord was reviewing his books and did not get up. Jimmy
moved to the side of the room standing at attention until his master directed him to sit, leave or
speak.
“What a thrill, it was like flying,” answered Rose.
“How was our friend Preston?” asked Weng. Weng was one of the few individuals who
unconditionally accepted the metaphysical and Rose could share with him what she experienced
in her practice. She knew little about his history but he had alluded to having a relative engaged in
the Mystic Arts.
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“Weng, The possessions take such a toll on him but we have a strategy to liberate him of his
unwanted house guest.”
He chuckled "So why do you call; are you in need of the coupe again?"
"No, It is the matter of Preston’s condition. I require your professional help to find someone.
Someone who doesn't want to be found," said Rose.
"Tell me more," coaxed Weng.
Rose continued, "You’ve heard about the Chilton and Carlton Murders?”
“Yes,” he replied.
"It is the work of a voodoo priestess. I was able to divine a vision of her, she is African and
possesses a powerful command of the arcane. The same methods she has used to kill, can in my
estimation be used to rescue Preston."
Weng looked at his long-braided ponytail and played with the end of it giving his black hair all of
his thought. "and?"
Just spit it out. She reflected before speaking "And I need your help to find her"
“Like you said Sister, she does not wish to be found. This wizard that murders powerful white
men in London. You now ask the Chinese gangster to help you catch her? Why would I be
interested in getting on the bad side of a wicked voodoo priestess?”
“It would help me and more so Preston. I need to learn from her. I need to talk to her and see if she
will help.”
“Rose, the only reason you know of such things is because of the burly Scotsman you help over at
the police department. What do you expect he would say about you consorting with the Lo
brothers and the Lucky Three Triad?”
Rose grinned and sat down on the couch away from Weng’s desk "Weng, the detective knows my
work has me to traverse many diverse worlds, and while I have never mentioned our friendship I
doubt it would shock him.”
“I assume the policeman would not approve of the company you keep,” countered the triad leader.
“Its common practice for law enforcement to reach out to the criminal element when trying to
solve a crime. If Dolly were to take issue with our helping each other, it would likely be from
resentment that my underworld contacts are of a higher pedigree than his," Rose looked to see if he
bit on her backhanded compliment.