The Guild Chronicles Books 1-3

by J M Bannon

  Here are links to maps to help with the setting. While I would love to provide the exact locations and mark up these maps many of these archives have strict copyrights pertaining to commercial use. To help I have give you close proximation.

  London This great map gives you a feel for the whole city

  Rose’s New Home No. 4 BlandFord Square Regents Park, St Johns Wood, & Paddington

  Denver City

  https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/22/Burlington_Route_Map_1892.png

  * * *

  The Mechanists Book 3

  1

  Friday the 6th of September, 1861

  5:58 A.M. Westminster Road, London, England

  When a massive explosion occurs, you feel it a millisecond before you hear it. What's worse is after you’ve experienced a few, like Dolly Williamson had, you recognize in your bones just how destructive it will be. This was a bad one. Time hung for Dolly until the blast rattled the windows of the carriage. He flinched, but he didn’t duck.

  A few minutes earlier the steam carriage had chuffed up to the intersection and stopped where Dolly hopped in. The chauffeur and Dolly had their routine. He would walk up from his house on Cottage Place and purchase the paper from the local paper boy. The constable that drove Dolly would meet him with the carriage at the intersection of Mount Garden and Westminster Bridge Road. From there they would go to Scotland Yard or to where ever his agenda took him that day. Today it would be to the Yard, times were tense, and he had been away from his office. The Superintendent needed to catch up on paperwork before he was inundated with requests from his superiors and his subordinates.

  Dolly looked across the river toward Westminster place and pulled out his pocket watch. It was his routine to set his watch as they passed over the bridge. He still had Rose's amulet as the fob, even though he hadn't been in the field and didn't plan to be fighting the supernatural. Opening the watch case, he gave it a wind and confirmed the time against the Westminster clock tower. It was about to strike eight and ring Big Ben. His watch was reading the same time. He knew the clock was the most accurate timepiece in the world and the heart of Project Sundial, an ultra-secret installation using high science to create portals to travel thousands of miles in an instant. The Admiralty had based the machinery on a plan procured by Detective Caldwell on a mission.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes as the Westminster clock tower exploded. The clock faces were lost in the cloud of smoke. Glass and metal rained down on the streets. Dolly knew there were people inside the tower.

  The Superintendent watched in awe and horror as the debris fell from the clock tower. Out of instinct his driver veered and stopped the vehicle. Dolly wondered if others noticed the strange blue glow that coursed out of the tower just after the explosion.

  Detective Inspector Burton's Paranormal Branch was in active pursuit of Caiaphas. Dolly had just had a meeting the night before with the Prime Minister about evidence that Caiaphas and his group were active on British soil. Dolly shared his suspicions that the top echelon of the Mechanists Guild was either in support of, or subverted by this villain. The conspirators’ next moves could bring the British Empire to its knees.

  “Percy, get over to Westminster, now!” Dolly implored, raising his voice to be heard over the chaotic din.

  He sat perched on the edge of his seat, as the driver whipped the carriage through traffic. Percy reached to the dashboard and toggled the lever that pumped steam through a turbine to sound the police wail.

  As they closed into Westminster, the streets were filled with Londoners running from the area, while others gawked at the scene of stone and metal falling from the clock tower.

  Dolly stuck his head out of the window and yelled, “clear the way, this is police business.”

  It was doubtful anyone heard his cries over the siren of the steam carriage, but he was desperate to get through and hollering helped to release his anxiety.

  The carriage pulled up and Dolly jumped out making his way to the entryway. There were already royal guardsman and marines on the scene. Two soldiers were escorting Detective Burton away from the tower. Burton had a man by the collar both were covered in dust and blood.

  "Superintendent, we have apprehended Dimetri Pavlovitch, one of Caiaphas’ henchmen and the inventor of the clockwork portals," Burton shook excitedly.

  Pavlovitch gave Dolly a grin.

  “Percy, secure that man from the Detective,” instructed Dolly.

  The constable took out his manacles, grasped the man’s hands behind his back and shuffled the prisoner away.

  “Detective, what happened?” asked Dolly.

  As Burton spoke, tears rolled out of his eyes washing tracks in the dust on his face. He pointed up above where the stairs should have connected to the next floor, but instead openings to the blue sky between what was left of the superstructure holding the upper levels of the clock tower. Dolly knew the equipment for Project Sundial resided where now there was either rubble or blue sky.

  “We found his lair and I made it back with Pavlovitch, but Rose was in the portal,”

  “In the portal or somewhere on the other side?” Dolly asked, hoping to clarify. The answer was the difference between Rose Caldwell being dead or a chance of being alive.

  “I don’t know, but that explosion came through the portal.”

  2

  Thursday the 11th of April, 1861

  11:00 AM 88 Salmon Road, Limehouse, London

  A hired carriage brought Rose to the memorial service. Father Neal sat next to her, he was quiet and teary-eyed. The carriage came to a stop with a loud hiss, as the steam driving the gearing bypassed and released through the relief valves drizzling condensation onto the street.

  The vehicle pulled up in front of the home at 88 Salmon Road in Limehouse. The townhome was surrounded by Chinese. Not throngs as you might see in nearby Chinatown, but men in suits or traditional dress standing like sentinels on the walkway. These were Weng Lo's, or more accurately, now Jimmy Linn's men; they were on edge due to the recent demise of Weng Lo.

  Father Neal exited the carriage, then Rose slid across the seat and moved out the same door as the priest. She wore an ornate black ensemble and veil in reverence to her friend who had died. Rose had been busy with Scotland Yard business and didn't know the exact circumstances of his death but wasn't surprised to hear of his untimely end given the man’s business.

  Rose walked up the steps toward two men waiting outside the door. The taller one opened it for them and let them in.

  "A detective and a priest come to a Chinaman’s funeral - there has to be a punch line," said Jimmy Linn loudly. He was wearing a light grey suit that stood out clearly from the traditional dress and black mourning clothes.

  Inside the house, the front parlor had been cleared of the usual furniture and rows of chairs had been set up to face Weng Lo's picture and an offering bench. On the bench several sticks of incense burned. Offerings of fruit, red envelopes of money and small pieces of paper lay on the bench and on the floor.

  Rose proceeded to the back row and found a seat. Father Neal stepped up next to Weng’s picture and began his prayer service. She wondered how many of the Tong knew that Weng Lo, although not practicing, was a Catholic. All the children at the orphanage where Weng grew up were baptized and made to go to church. Weng would have been no different as a youngster.

  As the priest spoke Jimmy moved around the room whispering to various members of his gang, meandering his way to Rose. He sat next to her in an open chair. Jimmy pinched Rose's arm with his thumb and forefinger.

  "Ouch! Why did you do that?" whispered Rose through a scowl.

  "I want to pinch a detective before she pinches me. Congratulations on your promotion,” He offered.

  "You're in good spirits. Don't let your promotion go to your head; remember how you got it,” said Rose with a flick of her head towards the picture of Weng on the easel.

  “So, we both have new titles and responsibi
lities,” said Jimmy.

  "Yes, I'm Detective Caldwell, special branch,"

  "Detective Witch Lady, I like it. How about you come with me Detective Witch Lady, where we can talk in private," whispered Jimmy. He stood up, but Rose didn't budge. She was feeling sad and not in the mood for Jimmy's antics.

  He pinched her again, "Come on," He walked out of the parlor.

  Rose let out a deep breath and got up. As she did she looked to Father Neal, but his eyes were down reading out of the book in his hand.

  She followed Jimmy into a nearby study. He was already lighting a cigarette.

  "Weng Lo was murdered," stated Jimmy.

  "Alright, before you say one more word Jimmy, remember I am an officer of the Metropolitan Police and if you start incriminating yourself or your mates I have to…”

  "No, no, I'm not coming to you like that, like a rat. If this was just the case of finding who killed Weng then there are thirty other people in the house more qualified than you, Sister. This is about how he was murdered. I need your help because the person who did it used some moo shu -magic to kill him."

  "And you’re quite certain of this?” asked Rose.

  "You have been in his office, it’s a strong room. One way in and one way out. Somehow with two guards outside and not a sound; he drowned. When he was found, he was sitting in his office without anything out of order but his lungs full of seawater. I want you to go have a look with your gear and tell me what you can," said Jimmy.

  “Got to be careful now with this Jimmy, I'm a detective now and you are, well a...”

  “A gangster. So, what you think that you’re the only peeler who talks with crime bosses? You should be the pride of the department with the connections you have. You being one of the few gaijin at Weng Lo's memorial should say something. One of the Lo brothers was murdered and this is could cause an all-out war. I am trying to keep the peace and you can help me by finding the person responsible for his death. You and I both owe it to Weng; as much of a grumpy fucker that he could be, with his one-word remarks and the click-clack of his abacus. He was like a father to me and he always helped no matter what anyone else said," said Jimmy.

  Rose hated how right he was. Weng had always been generous to her, from giving small amounts of cash to lending her his steam coupe. "I can come around and have a look, but we need to be discreet,” she warned.

  "Rose, you think this is bad for your reputation, think what it does to mine to be seen with you. While you’re running around chasing ghosts I have been working my arse off, and now have things just how I like it. I last thing I need is a succession war. I need to show the other Lo Brothers who is responsible for this.”

  “So that they don't think it was you," said Rose.

  "Righto Sister, those two maniacs will peel my skin off if they think I hurt Weng,"

  There was a rapping at the door.

  The man said something in Mandarin and Jimmy answered him quickly.

  “Rose come with me,” Jimmy said with a worried look.

  Rose followed Jimmy through the house into the kitchen, the servants were busy preparing food for the guests. They moved through the scullery and into the servants’ break area, there sitting at a table was a man in a silk gown smoking a pipe. Flanking him were two men, also dressed in traditional Chinese clothes.

  "Weng?" said Rose when she saw the man who looked identical to Weng Lo.

  “Rose, this is Weng's brother Ang," answered Jimmy as he kowtowed to Weng’s identical twin brother.

  3

  Friday the 12th of April, 1861

  9:04 A.M. Tenements, London, England

  “You ate breakfast already?” asked Detective Harvey, a heavy man whose face was sweating after climbing the three flights of stairs in the tenement. He stood with his hand on the doorknob of the apartment where a young constable stood on the landing. The stairwell was busy with the tenants peeking over railings and looking for the lower floor in efforts to see the crime scene within.

  “Yes, I have” answered Burton.

  “Well, expect to see it again,” Harvey pronounced, nodding his head towards the door. A horror in there, likely nothing you’ve seen over there in the ghost chasing branch.”

  Burton pushed him aside and opened the door, “What I’ve seen would send you to the asylum.”

  The scene did catch him for a start. There was a lot of blood, as much as he had seen in the Crimean. He took a deep breath and approached the naked body of the victim, a female. She had to be in her teens and split from throat to navel. The chest cavity was open, the ribs ripped back to expose the chest cavity.

  “That took some time, effort and strength,” said Harvey.

  “I am sure you didn’t call me down here just to try and shock me with gore. Why do you think this merits my branch?”

  “This is the third one in as many months,” said Harvey he pulled out a notebook and flipped through the pages, “young girls all of them, murdered the same way.”

  “All three in this neighborhood?”

  “No, this fiend is active on both sides of the river,” added Harvey nodding towards the body, “Take a look inside.”

  Staring, Burton could feel the grimace forming on his face and the stress in his muscles as he tried to keep his face composed. “I’m not a bloody surgeon, what am I looking for?”

  “What aren’t you looking for is the heart - gone. Removed and the act of removal is what killed the girl from what we can tell. In none of the cases can we see an entry wound to suggest the victim was killed, then dissected,” proposed Detective Harvey.

  “Oh God,” The room felt like it as closing in as he thought about the crime.

  “Oh, you getting woozy now, Burton?”

  He was but wouldn’t admit it, “I see your thinking, that this has to be the work of the occultists.”

  “It could be just another lunatic, but I want to exhaust every avenue,” said Harvey.

  “Speaking of lunacy, you say each was a month apart. What were the other dates?”

  “February ninth or tenth, March between the ninth and the twelfth and then this one,”

  “Everyone expects that the lunatics come out when the moon is full, but the full moon isn’t due until the twenty-fourth. It’s the opposite for a criminal, they are active on the new moon when there is no illumination. While this may be a ritual, Harvey, the person doing this isn’t trying to appease some moon god. I suspect they are waiting to do this work when the night is the darkest,” offered Burton.

  “Where is the closest wire-type office?” asked Burton as he walked to the door, “I’ll send for Rose and have her look for evidence of arcane activity.”

  * * *

  11:04 A.M. Tenements, London, England

  From the outside the Black Maria, Rose was riding in what looked like any other police steam lorry. This one was special as it had been converted to carry all of the equipment Rose required when investigating a paranormal event. The idea came from the constables in the motor pool after countless times loading and unloading her kit. They told her she was getting a dedicated vehicle to save their time and backs.

  As the steam lorry chuffed up, the officer driving disengaged the drive gear and engaged the brake. Rose saw Detective Inspector Burton walk up. Burton was her new superior, although younger than her and limited experience with metaphysics. He was hand-picked by Dolly who was now in charge of all of the Detective branches.

  Rose hopped out. It was spring, and she wore a long coat to keep the chill off. Under that coat, she was dressed in a dark twill suit, but rather than a waist coat, a custom-made leather corset which held the equipment she wanted at hand.

  Billy O’ Shea the constable that drove also stepped out of the cab. He was responsible for driving and hauling the equipment for Detective Caldwell.

  “Let's start with the camera obscura, then after I do my assessment we will decide what else I may need,” explained Rose proceeding to the crime scene.

  “The flat
is on the third floor,” said Burton to the constable.

  “Jesus Christ,” Billy muttered under his breath.

  “Rose, a moment please before you go up,” said Burton pulling her aside.

  She stopped and gave him her full attention.

  “It’s bad; the smell, the scene, a young girl has been ripped open. I had a hard time and I want you to be prepared. Detective Harvey called us in and we don’t need to give him anything to be gossiping about.”

  “I’ve seen worse.”

  “No Rose, you have witnessed the strange and the fantastic, but when you see an innocent child carved up you won’t be the same. It's all right to be disturbed by the sight, we are never meant to see this type of evil.”

  Rose took a pause. Burton knew fully what Rose had experienced and wouldn’t patronize her.

  As they climbed the stairs, Detective Burton shared what he had gleaned from the scene.

  "The young girl was murdered in the last day of the month. This is the third body found in this condition, reported in as the previous three months. Detective Harvey asked us to help based on his presumption that this is some type of ritual, having multiple victims with a monthly interval. The victim was tied down to the table and had her heart cut out. I expect there were multiple assailants needed to hold her down and do this dastardly work,” Burton finished his summary just outside the door.