Chapter 10

Ten

"How did you know where to go to find the office in Aldgate?" I asked, the doctor's notes and his book spread across the desk in front of me.

Brodie did not immediately reply from the adjacent bedroom. He eventually appeared dressed in his preferred trousers and sweater, his hair damp from a turn at the wash bowl. His eye did look somewhat better, although there were tinges of blue and green about the edges.

"Ye still insist on being part of this?"

Ah, so that was what had that dark gaze meeting mine, briefly, then looking away with what I do believe was a softly muttered curse.

I set my pen down on the desk. I had been going over my notes with the purpose of then putting them on the chalkboard, including the copy of that intercepted note I had managed to persuade from Alex Sinclair.

It was obviously written in some sort of code. The question was, what was it?

I had neatly organized Dr. Bennett's latest notes, according to the date at the top of each— the man was quite orderly in his thoughts, and now waited.

Brodie had been forthcoming in the matter, to a point. But I needed to know more. I continued to wait, then looked up and caught that dark gaze. He really was being quite obstinate this morning, which I had learned in the past required a different tactic.

I rose from behind the desk. I was not given to the usual woman's methods I had heard about from my sister, what I considered to be somewhat pathetic. Cajoling a man from some ill humor with what my sister referred to as "feminine persuasion?"

Not yet, at least.

Instead, I went to the coal stove where he had set the coffee pot earlier, seized his mug, battered and chipped as it was, and poured the steaming brew. I handed him the mug, then stood there where it was impossible to ignore me and waited. There was another curse between sips of coffee.

"Ye're like a dog with a bone," he muttered, which of course brought up images of Rupert with some disgusting object that he had managed to find in the back alleys off the Strand.

"Ye're not goin' to let this go, are ye?"

"We do owe it to our client to pursue every piece of information." I emphasized once more that Mrs. Bennett had engaged both of us.

"She hired ye to find her husband," he pointed out. "Ye've done that…"

"And to determine what happened to him," I emphasized. "I will not leave her without answers, and neither would you. She deserves that in the least," I continued. "And as for anything dangerous, I believe we have already had that conversation. You must get over that part, as I am not finished with this inquiry."

It did occur to me that I was poking the bear, so to speak. However, this was something that I was very determined about.

He set the empty mug down on the desk rather sharply and I wondered if it didn't crack further. There was only a small amount spilled over the edge. He then stalked— that was the only word for it— to the coat rack, retrieved his long coat, and put it on.

"I learned that a man resembling Soropkin arrived some weeks ago from the continent," he shared. "Through other sources I learned that he made inquiries about Dr. Bennett… regarding some injury that he apparently needed tending."

He had told me about the murder of Father Sebastian and the tailor.

"And the doctor's office in the tenement at Aldgate?" I prompted when it seemed he thought that was sufficient information.

"I was also given information from Mr. Brimley regarding a young boy who was horribly injured. The lad was poor and couldna afford the care he needed. It seems that particular care was beyond what Mr. Brimley or physicians at St. James could provide. It was suggested that the boy's father take him home…"

Home, to die. Too often a horrible fate.

However, it seemed Mr. Brimley, who provided care to the poor in the East End, was of a different mind. I knew quite well that he would not simply let the boy suffer and die.

"Brimley contacted Dr. Bennett," Brodie went on to share. "It seems that the good doctor had him take the boy to Aldgate as his methods would not have been approved otherwise."

"And he was he able to help the boy?" I asked.

Brodie nodded. "The procedures the doctor performed were successful. It seems that in time the boy will recover almost completely, with only a few small scars."

A boy who might otherwise have been left to die for want of treatment that Dr. Bennett had provided.

I wondered if it might be possible to see the boy. What might we learn from that?

"What of Soropkin? Is there no word where he might be?"

"It's as if the man is a ghost and Alex hasn't been able to decipher that intercepted message. What are ye thinkin'?" he asked as I gathered the notes and Dr. Bennett's book and put them in my travel bag.

"There could be something we might learn at the doctor's office in Aldgate. Some bit of information before Chief Inspector Abberline becomes involved."

"And ye intend to go back there."

"It could be beneficial to your part of the investigation as well," I replied. "And you would do the same."

I highly suspected that was where he was going. In the relatively short time we had been pursing inquiry cases, I had learned a thing or two about Angus Brodie.

"And I suppose if I left ye here, ye would simply go there on yer own."

"It is reasonable to share a cab and save the extra coach fare. And it might be helpful to have Mr. Brimley join us as he has considerable expertise in these matters."

These matters being the murder inquiries we had undertaken the past two years. He had been most helpful.

"I have already contacted him," Brodie replied.

It seemed that great minds thought alike. "Then we should leave immediately."

"I'll not wait for ye to go to Mayfair to change yer clothes into something more suitable."

"Not at all," I replied as I grabbed my wrap from the previous evening. "I'm quite ready." And moved past him to the door.

"In yer fine gown and slippers?"

"Do come along, Mr. Brodie."

I was already out the door and down the stairs to the street below.

We reached Aldgate to find that Mr. Brimley had already arrived. I caught the surprised expression on his face at my somewhat overdressed attire for such things as examining the scene of a murder. It seemed that satin and a bit of lace was somewhat overdone for such things.

Sir Avery had sent his people there late of the night, and as promised, the doctor's body had been removed, although the usual stench remained.

Even though the entrance to the basement office had been secured until a more extensive search of the clinic could be made, Brodie "persuaded" the door open. His skills from that previous life in Edinburgh did come in quite useful from time to time. I did need to have him show me how to do that.

Upon our previous visit, there had only been light from the street that had managed to find its way in through the heavily smudged street-level windows. We entered, then made our way into the adjacent room that had apparently served as some sort of examination room.

Brodie pushed the button beside the door, and the electric came on. I was surprised.

An oversight perhaps by the electric company with the building scheduled to be torn down? Or, had the doctor made arrangements for it to remain on?

That seemed the more likely possibility.

The sight before us was quite stark. Even though the doctor's body had been removed, the bloodstains remained just as we had found them, and I saw things that I had not noticed the night before.

There was a reclining chair on the other side of the room, much as in a gentleman's barber shop with a rolling steel table at one side, the same as that I had seen in the police mortuary.

There was a second steel table, however, it was toppled to the floor opposite as if it had been pushed over, with blood splattered across.

"There was a struggle here," Brodie observed as Mr. Brimley went about the room, carefully opening the doors of a cabinet, taking out bottles and jars to examine, removing lids and smelling the contents.

"There are some unusual substances not necessarily found in a physician's cabinet," Mr. Brimley commented. "A substantial amount of formaldehyde, and some other substance I'm not familiar with…"

"Ye'll be certain to take it to your shop," Brodie replied. "And perhaps learn something from that."

Brodie then turned that chair toward the meager light that spilled in from the street.

"There is a residue here," he told the chemist who immediately joined him while I proceeded to make my own inspection.

Not that I thought myself equal to Brodie or Mr. Brimley, however I looked for things from my admittedly somewhat limited experience, while they approached from a different perspective.

They inspected the "residue" on the chair, their heads bent together, one tall, the other substantially shorter.

"There might be somethin' there," Brodie commented.

Mr. Brimley then took an envelope from his coat pocket, along with a small knife.

He scraped a portion of the residue into the envelope and then pocketed it as Brodie continued his inspection, kneeling on the floor.

"What do ye make of this, Mr. Brimley?"

Brodie held aloft a rather unusual looking bladed instrument, that drew Mr. Brimley's attention.

The chemist adjusted his glasses as he inspected the instrument.

"With what I found in that cabinet, it would seem that the good doctor was not only treating the usual ailments, but performing surgeries as well. There are some fine instruments that could be found in a hospital, or a morgue for examination of a body."

There were also books. I discovered, three to be exact. None were authored by the doctor, however, and all three were written in Latin, and some other language that was vaguely familiar, and included drawings.

One was extremely old and there was no front piece as usually found in published books, my own included, that at least contained an author's name.

The last one was more of a manuscript that had not yet been published. A good deal of text was also in Latin. In several places was what appeared to be Greek and Egyptian text.

I frowned, French and Latin were the extent of my studies.

"Have ye found somethin'?" Brodie asked. I looked up.

"It appears to be an old manuscript," I replied. "It's written in Latin and makes references to Egyptian text. It appears to be made of parchment."

"Latin ye say?"

I had caught Mr. Brimley's interest as well.

"I was able to read that much in the first few pages."

I was forced to admit that I had other interests when at my lessons that had not included ancient Egyptian. Mr. Brimley, however, was substantially more accomplished, no doubt due to his early medical education.

"It is a Latin translation and includes several references in what appears to be some form of Egyptian script. Fascinating," he added. "However, beyond my abilities."

Fascinating and confusing. It was not surprising that Dr. Bennett had a knowledge of Latin. That would have come from his formal education as a physician. However, references and writings in some other text? What could that mean?

I thought of Sir Reginald, who had provided the Egyptian panorama and sarcophagi on loan from the museum. He had spent years exploring Egypt and was responsible for the main exhibit that was there now, along with artifacts.

"I know someone who may be able to assist with this. It could tell us something important about what Dr. Bennett was working on that the Society disapproved of so strongly."

What might the notes for his next book, also be able tell us?

I carefully closed the manuscript. As I did a piece of paper fell from among the pages to the floor. I picked it up.

It was very fine note paper, the sort that someone might keep in their desk to write invitations, or responses to someone over an invitation received. Or possibly at a physician's office, when writing to someone who had lost a loved one?

My dearest wife,

You have always been my champion,

and believed in me when others did not…

It was here where the doctor had obviously paused, ink from the pen forming a puddle that was now dry, before he had continued with a note he obviously never had the opportunity to give her. And the next line…

I do what I must now do, to keep you safe.

I looked up at Brodie.

"Is there a date on it?"

I shook my head and handed the note to him.

"It would appear that the doctor was about to do something that might have gone against his ethics, his profession, or at the least, the Society of Medicine."

"To keep her safe? From a threat?" I suggested.

"So it would seem. There was obviously a struggle here before the doctor was murdered."

Brodie was thoughtful as he scanned the room, the overturned table, the instruments scattered about, and those blood stains.

A threat? For what purpose? And another piece of the puzzle for which there was no answer. Yet.

I carefully tucked the manuscript into my travel bag, along with the note. It might be of some comfort to Helen Bennett. Mr. Brimley had made his own notes about his observations which he handed to Brodie as we left.

The ride to Mayfair, after leaving Mr. Brimley, was a silent one. We were both lost to our own thoughts regarding what we had learned with our visit to that hidden office.

I wanted very much to know what the text in that manuscript meant, while Brodie needed to return to the Agency with what he had found at the murder scene, along with Mr. Brimley's notes and my discovery of the manuscript.

"I would like to have Sir Reginald inspect the manuscript," I told him, breaking the silence.

"He's very knowledgeable and he may be able to tell us something important."

Brodie agreed. "I will explain to Sir Avery."

We arrived and the driver waited for him as I had stepped down from the coach in front of the townhouse.

"Ye will take care and not go off without my knowing."

Under any other circumstances, I might have objected.

"I do want to call on Helen Bennett."

"The note?"

I nodded. "She should have it. It may bring some comfort that his thoughts were of her."

There was something more, but he obviously decided against it.

"Soropkin is somehow involved. He's a verra dangerous man…"

"I'll be careful," I assured him. "Careful as a church mouse."

"See that ye do. Until we know what this is about…"

"I can take care of myself," I reminded him.

He gently touched my chin.

"That is wot concerns me."

When he had gone, I made use of the shower compartment in the bathroom, a recent convenience that we had discovered had additional benefits…

Afterward, I placed a telephone call to Sussex Square and learned that Sir Reginald had already returned with museum staff and retrieved the panorama along with the two sarcophagi.

" As if I could not be trusted to have them returned ," my aunt commented, somewhat indignant.

I then inquired about Lily and was told that she was in the library with her latest tutor— she had somehow managed once more to send the most recent one off in a fit of despair, declaring that she was unmanageable and obviously quite ignorant.

" Can you imagine ?" my aunt said with a chuckle.

I thought a diversion might be in order and decided to take Lily with me to the museum. I assured my aunt that it would be an excellent learning experience.

For her part, Lily was much in favor of anything that might free her from the drudgery of studies. Most definitely a girl after my own heart.

My aunt arranged for her driver to bring Lily to Mayfair, and then take us to the museum.

I then placed a call to the museum. I was informed that Sir Reginald was in the Egyptian Hall presently overseeing the installation of several items.

I could only guess they included the panorama screens and the sarcophagi retrieved from Sussex Square. He was known to be a perfectionist and it seemed that he would be there for several hours. Perfect.

"Museum?" Lily commented as we departed Mayfair together.

"There is a great deal to learn at a museum," I explained. "About history, different places, and people." I paused.

I was definitely not making the right impression. And, I had to admit, at fourteen years of age, or as near as Lily knew her age to be, I would very likely have had the same reaction.

When confronted with boredom, it was best to appeal to what interested someone, and in Lily's case…

"There are a great many weapons there as well," I added. "Early firearms, spears and staffs, and swords."

She did have a particular fascination with swords, and score one in favor of myself as I saw her interest piqued.

"Swords?"

We found Sir Reginald in the midst of the Egyptian collection with a team of assistants. His shirtsleeves rolled back to his elbows and his face gleamed with perspiration as he gave directions to the young men much like a field commander shouting instructions.

"No, no! That is not it at all! The screens must be in a specific order to complete the scene. It is quite obvious. Pay attention to what you are doing!"

Perhaps not the best time to call on him, however time was of the essence and the attendant at the entrance to the museum had informed us that Sir Reginald was due to depart for his next trip abroad within a fortnight.

Lily was immediately drawn to the collection of ceremonial staffs. I did hope that she didn't decide to try one out as I approached Sir Reginald.

"Yes, yes, what is it now?" he demanded without turning around when I asked to speak with him.

"I would have spoken with you last evening," I explained.

He then turned with that slightly myopic gaze over the top of his glasses and stared at me.

"Lady Forsythe…"

"A moment of your time, if you please," I explained, and then added, "and your expertise."

He turned back to the task at hand and shouted at another one of the assistants who looked quite flustered.

"I've come across a manuscript that I believe may contain references in a language I'm not familiar with," I explained. "It looks very much as if it might be Egyptian, and since you are the foremost authority…"

Never let it be said that I am above using flattery.

"I was hoping you might take a look and see what you can make of it."

"Egypt," he replied with what could only be a mesmerized smile as he watched the screens of the panorama set in place.

"Land of mystery and ancient kingdoms." Then the spell seemed to have left him, at least for the time being. His demeanor immediately changed.

"Of course, no doubt some relic from your travels, I suspect? I understand that you have been to Alexandria as well as the Valley of the Kings. How may I assist?"

I glanced over at Lily to make certain she wasn't dismantling the stand that displayed the Egyptian staffs. I then opened my travel bag and retrieved the manuscript and laid it atop a glass enclosed display case that contained several pieces of Egyptian artifacts.

"Papyrus?" Sir Reginald immediately noted.

"So it would seem," I replied. "Part of it is in Latin which I was able to decipher. However there are other references that appear to be Egyptian."

"Do stop what you are doing, before you damage the piece!" he shouted past me to the assistants who struggled with the latest screen in the panorama.

"It is so difficult to get good help," he added. "Most frustrating. They simply do not understand the incredible importance of our exhibits and the artifacts we have collected."

He turned to me then. "Yes, quite. You have a question about a manuscript?"

Sir Reginald studied several pages, his lips mouthing the words in Latin, the best that I had been able to determine, using the opposite end of his pen to lift the pages so not to touch with his fingers and soil them.

"Hmmm. Yes, Egyptian to be certain…" he turned another page. "But which dialect? That is the question. See here, it is not what one of your experience might expect. There are not the usual characters that we are most familiar with from our explorations."

He pointed to a glass encased jar nearby that was covered with hand-painted images of a bird and cat.

"See there, that is a perfect example of hieroglyphics, however…" He continued to study several more pages of text.

"Perhaps Demotic script, or possibly Coptic. I would say, by the structure of this, similar to others I have seen, that this could possibly be from around the eleventh century— B.C. that is. See here, obviously Greek letters as well, and the words are run together.

"And this sort of script is seen primarily in administrative or official documents and treatises that have been discovered— most interesting, and the Latin text refers to it. It seems to describe some sorts of procedures."

Procedures? That caught my attention.

"Most unusual, and rare. How did you come by it?" he then asked.

That was a conversation for another time, that didn't include discussion about murder.

"Might you be able to translate it?" I inquired. "It's important."

"Most interesting," he went on. "Of course it will take some time…"

I pointed out that it was regarding a most urgent matter.

"I could have something for you…" He was once more distracted by the manuscript.

"Sir Reginald?" I reminded him.

"Oh yes, quite. I could have something for you perhaps tomorrow, if you will contact the museum in the morning…"

That would have to do. In the meantime, I wanted very much to read Dr. Bennett's book as well as those notes he had been making for his next book.

I made arrangements to contact Sir Reginald the following morning, then turned to gather my bag. It was quite cumbersome with the book, the notes, and the revolver I usually carried at Brodie's insistence.

The bag tumbled to the floor of the hall, Dr. Bennett's notes scattering about as Lily arrived, quite excited. She stooped down to help retrieve the notes.

"One of the attendants said as how some of those staffs are over two thousand years old. Two thousand years! I canna imagine. The ‘Church,' in Old Town, was only three hundred years old. The ladies were always complainin' that there was no plumbing after they finished with their customers. Did they have plumbing two thousand years ago?"

She managed to shuffle the loose notes together. We did need to have a conversation about the things she shared in public places.

"Wot's this, Miss Mikaela?" She held up one of the pieces of paper that had been in my bag.

It was the copy of that note the Agency had intercepted and had been unable to decipher. She seemed particularly fascinated by it.

"It looks like some sort of code with all those letters and numbers." She handed it back to me. "Is it part of the inquiry ye're makin'?"

I distracted her with a reminder of swords that were displayed in another part of the great hall.

That took us to the Medieval Hall where there were several displayed, including several from France after various campaigns— we never did seem to get along, although the Conqueror, an ancestor, had been French. Norman actually according to my aunt. There was also a particularly well-preserved Crusader sword.

"The knife Mr. Munro gave ye is more practical," Lily commented.

"I believe, in the past, the object was to engage one's opponent at a greater distance than that of a knife to get an advantage and strike a fatal blow," I explained.

She nodded. "Slice off an arm or the head, I s'pose."

Quite graphic, but to the point.

We spent a bit of additional time exploring other collections from Egypt as well as India, Africa, and the Pacific Islands, along with the different weapons for each that had been collected.

Upon leaving the museum we found a driver and gave him the address at Sussex Square.

Lily was unusually quiet when she normally would have had a barrage of questions, and we were well on our way across the city to my aunt's residence.

"The first letter makes no sense," she said staring out of the coach. "But if you look at the next ones, there is a pattern," she commented quite unexpectedly.

"I beg your pardon," I replied.

"That's it, miss!" she said with a great deal of excitement. "It's a code, and not all that difficult." She grinned.

"It's not complicated and not all that different from the messages the ladies used to send back and forth to each other regarding the men they entertained at the Church. They used to let each other know who paid well and who might try to get away with… Well, you know."

Having been at the "Church" in question, I did know quite well. However that didn't explain what she was talking about.

"Ye just have to figure out the sequence, then when it repeats, the words are there. The note that fell out of yer bag. It took me a while, but I figured it out."

I stared at her. She seemed to think that she had found the code to decipher that message. This from a girl who had been a lady's maid in a brothel and didn't know how to read!

I immediately signaled for the driver to change direction and take us to the office on the Strand.