TITLE: The Case Of The Murdered Mandarin
AUTHOR: Talepiece
RATING: 12 cert.
PAIRING: Vastra/Jenny
SERIES: The Casebook Of Madame Vastra
CONTINUITY: This story follows on from The Case Of The Little Priest and the New Year interlude.
DISCLAIMER: Mine, alas no; sue, please no.
CREDITS: This story is based on The Mandarin's Pearl by R Austin Freeman.
NOTE: I've gone back to the original format for this year, using classic detective tales from the late 1800s and early(ish) 1900s as the source material for (largely) stand-alone stories but I've decided to try something different with the schedule for posting them. Rather than two, four installment "volumes" per year, Volume Five will consist of six stories posted every six to eight weeks across the whole year. That should get us to the final story around Christmas-time and give me a little more leeway to deal with life's vicissitudes.
POSTED: February 2016
Despite the sometimes alarming nature of their cases, only one such stayed with Madame Vastra throughout her long life. In her opinion, the case of Frederick Calverley and the Mandarin's pearl was the single greatest mistake of her career. Though her beloved companion and colleague Jenny Flint took a customarily robust attitude to the same and to those who were truly to blame.
Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint.
London, 1951.
Jenny Flint smiled at the man as he stretched his legs by the fire to warm his toes. Cornelius Milton III, he of Milton And Milton the agents and the man from whom she and Madame Vastra had purchased the house that now warmed him, was a large and jovial man. Somewhat corpulent, admittedly, and want to avoid all forms of physical exercise but a man who was generally seen to smile on life.
He was not smiling so much today, Jenny noted, and she thought perhaps the cold weather was not entirely to blame.
"Here's your tea, Mr Milton, and I've put a nice slice of cake there for you too. Now just give me a minute and I'll find Madame so you can tell us what's troubling you so."
Milton looked up from the tray with a start, "Upon my word, Miss Flint, is it so obvious?"
"Just a bit, Sir. Now, you enjoy your tea and I'll be back in a jiffy."
Jenny left the sitting room, reached for her companion's veil and gloves from the consul table by the door and hurried downstairs. The lab door was closed and Jenny knew that Vastra did not wish to be disturbed. She hated to do so, not least because she would be forced to witness first-hand the mess of the place. Jenny Flint was not one to tolerate mess in her own home, nor anyone else's home come to that, but the lab was Vastra's particular domain and far out of Jenny's purview.
So she braced herself against the sights to come and banged at the door. Jenny had to repeat the gesture twice more and was beginning to think that she may have to deal with Mr Milton's problem alone when the door was flung open.
"My dear, really!"
Jenny rolled her eyes at her dishevelled companion and said, "It's Mr Milton. Something's wrong; poor man looks quite put out."
"Milton?" Vastra considered for a moment.
Jenny took the opportunity to look her up and down. She wore the old "work clothes" that Jenny had deemed in too disgraceful a state to be worn again. If they had been in a disgraceful state before, they were quite appalling now. The gilet was pocked with singed holes, one or two of which continued to give off wisps of a thin, grey smoke. The shirt beneath, previously white, was almost black in some areas and the skirt had been ripped at a little below the knee. The ill-made alteration left Vastra's shapely green ankles and feet exposed as she wore no shoes.
"Really!" Jenny said but with more humour than approbation. She hitched a thumb over her shoulder and said, "Should I deal with the gentleman?"
Vastra glanced back into the lab, considering some piece of equipment that bubbled and steamed in the far corner. Jenny dreaded to think what it might be and so decided not to.
Turning back, Vastra shook her head, "Pray ask Mr Milton to wait another five minutes."
With that, Vastra took the gloves and veil from Jenny's hands and closed the door again. Jenny stared at it for a moment and then shook her head ruefully. She had given her heart to quite the most remarkable and unusual woman in London but at times she could be quite the most infuriating woman too.
"Ten minutes it is then," Jenny said to the silent door.
She turned and walked towards the stairs when the lab opened again. Jenny glanced over her shoulder to see a contrite Madame Vastra offering her a soot-stained smile.
"Forgive me, my dear, I have been rude."
Jenny made an unladylike noise and waved it off before hurrying on. Upstairs, Mr Milton was sipping his tea while staring at the fire in some distraction. Though the cake was gone, Jenny noticed, so he couldn't be too much troubled. He acceded to the delay with pleasant enough words but glanced at his pocketwatch when he thought Jenny wasn't looking.
"If you're in a rush -"
"- No! No, Miss Flint," he interrupted, "not a rush at all. It's just, well, I've taken the liberty of asking a young friend of mine to join us here and I rather wanted to lay the ground work, as it were, before he arrived."
"Then, pray Mr Milton, do begin to do so," Vastra said as she swept into the room.
There was no sign of the tattered clothing, Jenny was very pleased to see, though she suspected that there might be a soot stain or two hidden beneath the veil. Not that Mr Milton was likely to spot them and certainly not to mention it, even if he did.
"Madame Vastra!" Milton said, standing and offering his hand. When the greetings were taken care of, Milton said, "I do thank you both for allowing me to invade your home in such an ungentlemanly manner; it really is very poor of me and Miss Flint had been most kind, as have you Madame, to favour me with your time."
Vastra waved it away with a, "Not at all," and then said, "Now, this business that troubles you so, Mr Milton. Do be exact but as concise as you can be."
Some hope, thought Jenny but she said, "This young man, Sir, who would that be?"
"He would be Fred Calverley. Young Fred is the heir of Horace Calverley. You know what happened to dear Horace, Madame?"
"Always such a terrible situation for the family. Though I understood that the actual circumstances of the death had been somewhat cloaked from the general public?"
"As best as could be, yes," Milton shook his head, "Always a surprisingly delicate chap was Horace and I'm afraid Fred is much the same. Prone to bouts of neurosis; gets very low, that sort of thing. Not mad, I'll say that, but cranky and tends to go a bit queer in the head."
"And at the present time?"
"Ah, Madame, very much so at the present time, I'm afraid."
There was a pause as Milton ruminated on this and Jenny prompted him with, "Has he seen a Doctor, Sir?"
"No, not yet as far as I understand it, but it's only a matter of time. There's quite a considerable estate, you see, and there's family too."
"And where there's a will, there's always family," Jenny muttered.
Milton gave a bark of laughter, "Very droll, Miss Flint, and very true as well. The thing is, given the unfortunate circumstances of the father's death, there is talk that Fred might go the same way. Talk of getting the poor lad certified and locked up. For his own safety, of course, or so they say."
"And you are quite sure that young Mr Calverley is neither mad nor suicidal?" Vastra said.
"Mad, certainly not. The latter," Milton shook his head sadly, "I had thought he was improving after such a difficult year or two but I saw him this morning and, well," Milton shook his head again, "Suffice it to say that I intend to keep the poor lad close by this next day or two. Just to be sure, you understand."
"Always a wise move, Sir," Jenny said.
The doorbell interrupted their discussion and Jenny excused herself to welcome Mr Frederick Calverley to their home. She noted the young man's blue eyes with their dilated pupils that gave him a startled sort of look. He was tall and frail, his slender hands twitching with his hat before Jenny took it from him. He looked like one of those young poet types who might need a hug or a slap at any moment.
When she lead Mr Calverley into the sitting room, Vastra gave him a long, appraising look while Milton greeted the young man and made the introductions. A typical neurotic, Vastra decided, fragile and eager but with a genuine fear in those wide-open eyes that troubled her greatly. Jenny settled Calverley in with an offer of tea but he refused it in a nervous tone and then changed his mind with an apology.
"Don't be afraid, Fred," Milton said with forced joviality, "Madame Vastra and Miss Flint are quite the most remarkable women you will ever meet in your life but charming with it, I might say."
"You are too kind, Mr Milton," Vastra again studied the young man before saying, "Now, Mr Calverley, do tell us what has you so troubled."
"Come now, Fred," Milton chivvied, "I've been telling the ladies about your nervous troubles. Don't be shy, eh?"
Calverley's hands twisted on themselves now as he fidgeted nervously under the glare of three gazes. His dreamy eyes seemed to hold both hope and doubt but he could barely find his voice when he said, "I really don't know if Madame Vastra and Miss Flint will hold with what I have to say. I doubt The Great Detective sets much store by the supernatural."
"Oh I'm quite certain there is nothing that you could say to worry either of them. You can believe me on that one," Milton said with a knowing wink at Jenny.
Jenny grinned back, "Not any more, Mr Milton, that's for certain. Now then, Mr Calverley, what is it, eh?"
Calverley cleared his throat with a nervous little cough and said, "I suppose I should go back to the beginning, should I not?"
"Pray do and be exact but concise if you please, focusing on those things that relate directly to your current predicament."
"Well, Madame Vastra, it all started about a year ago. I was involved in a railway accident. Not hurt, at least not physically, but shaken up very badly. It has not been a happy few years for my family," he blushed, lowering his eyes for a moment before going on, "so I decided to take a voyage; warmer climes, that sort of thing, but I'm afraid the journey did not start well. The ship lost its propeller shaft and was stranded for some while."
"That must have been quite a trial, Sir," Jenny sympathised and Fred smiled at her briefly.
"It was, Miss Flint, quite a shock after everything else. I decided to move on to the Mediterranean immediately and made my way on one of Holts' ships."
"Not one of the passenger liners?" Jenny asked and earned herself a sharp twitch of Vastra's veil.
"I prefer not. Too much bustle, too many people you understand."
"Indeed we do but go on with your story," Vastra said firmly.
"Well, I made it down and all seemed set fair, as it were. It was on my first evening in Marseilles that this business really began. I was on the lookout for Algerian and Moorish tilings and found myself in a curio-shop. One of those little, higgledy-piggledy places that you get down there. The shopkeeper was doing his best to impress me with tiles and rugs and the like but then my eye fell upon a display case that held, amongst other items, an article that quite intrigued me.
"There hung a pendant or charm, I should say. Not particularly beautiful I suppose but quaint and curious, which is much more my thing. It took my fancy and the shopkeeper seized upon my interest. The article in question is a single oblong of ebony in which lies encased a pear-shaped pearl of around three-quarters of an inch. The sides are lacquered, no doubt to conceal the joint, and are inscribed with Chinese characters. At the top is a little gold image with a hole in it, to thread though a chain or string I should say. Aside from the pearl, the whole looks like nothing so much as an ornamental tablet of Chinese ink."
"So you bought it then?" Jenny asked when Calverley fell silent for a long moment.
"Oh yes," Calverley shook himself from his revelry and went on, "The shopkeeper insisted it was real and though I doubted his sincerity, I did not doubt my own eye. I can afford to indulge such whims, within reason, and I flatter myself that I have a good eye for these sorts of things.
"He asked five pounds for it and I completed the purchase on the spot. Much to his delight, I might add, but I was happy and so was he. I took the pendant with me and with the help of the hotel clerk, found a reputable jeweller who declared the pearl genuine and valued it at one thousand pounds."
"Blimey," Jenny muttered and Milton said, "Good show, my boy."
"I was most pleased with the purchase and, I admit, took some pleasure in the expression that such a valuation might have elicited from the shopkeeper. At that I thought the matter over and returned to my original search."
"But that was not it?" Vastra said.
"It was not," Calverley sighed deeply, paused for another moment to gather his thoughts and then went on, "A few days later, I met up with some friends who had recently returned to the port having taken out their yacht for a week or so.
"As one does in these circumstances, I told them of my recent purchase and they positively howled with derision. I was quite put out but they went on to explain that not ten days before they themselves could have purchased the article for a mere half a sovereign.
"It seemed that a sailor had been hawking the pendant about the harbour as they were preparing to set off. Deuced anxious to be rid of it was what they said. The sailor swore blind that the pearl was real and the pendant priceless but professed himself willing to deprive himself of it for the trifling sum of half a Jimmy.
"My friends decided that the curio-man must have been the only person in Marseilles willing to take a chance on it in the hope of some greenhorn stumbling into his establishment. As sure enough, they gleefully informed me, one had.
"There was a great deal of laughter about the table, I can tell you. That is until I told them of the later valuation. That wiped there faces and no mistake. Halliwell insisted that we take the pendant to a friend of his immediately. This friend was some sort of an expert in the trade and so I agreed, more out of curiosity than a great desire to prove myself to them.
"This friend of his offered me five hundred pounds on the spot. Much to the consternation of my friends, I can tell you, who's subsequent language was not fit for the company of ladies."
Jenny glanced down at Vastra and thought she could see a smirk beneath the veil. She said, "Well, I think Madame and I might be able to guess about that. So you'd quite won the day, Sir?"
Calverley grinned for a moment but his face quickly fell back to its worried expression, "So I thought, Miss Flint, and I was quite pleased with myself."
"But?" Milton asked eagerly as his young friend paused again.
"Ah," Calverley began but said no more.
"The story became common knowledge, did it not? The source of much gossip I would suggest," Vastra said.
Calverley sighed, "It did, Madame, in quite the most outrageous manner. It was put about that the sailor came in on a tea-ship and the pendant had been stolen from a rich Chinese gentleman. I had no less than ten Chinamen come to me over the next week, all of them demanding that their families' property be restored to them."
"Blasted cheek!" Milton said and then muttered an apology to the room in general.
"Couldn't have helped your nerves, Sir," Jenny offered sympathetically.
"It did not, in fact quite the opposite. I resolved to return to England immediately and my cousin Alfred was good enough to invite me to stay with him over the winter."
Milton put in, "Alfred has a small estate in Weybridge but he also has a particular friend by the name of Captain Raggerton. Though I understand that he left the military under questionable circumstances and may hold no right to the rank. I confess, ladies, I have never thought highly of the man and I fear he has rather stirred this business up for young Fred here."
"This would be the Captain Raggerton formerly of the Guards?" Vastra asked to much surprise, "I have heard the name in relation to his preference for baccarat and bridge. An uncomfortably lucky sort of player from what I can gather."
"One of them, eh?" Jenny muttered.
"He spends a great deal of time at the horse-racing as well, though he's less lucky in that regard," Calverley added, "I'm not sure he's quite so bad an egg as Cornelius believes but I admit to being surprised that Alfred has become so intimate with him. Certainly Alfred's habits have changed in my absence and I ascribe that to Raggerton entirely."
"And, pray, what did your cousin and his friend make of your purchase when you informed them of it?"
Calverley sighed again, "That's the thing, Madame, they already knew. It seemed that news of the pendant travelled home rather more quickly than I and they had already received word from one of Raggerton's Naval friends. I suspected that they had heard more besides but neither would explain their vague and somewhat standoffish behaviour on the matter.
"They still talked about the pearl, mind you, and quite often too. There was many a significant look traded but never a detail forthcoming.
"One day I happened to tell them of a strange incident on my voyage home. I was again travelling with Holts and often took to my berth early in the afternoon to read and doze until tea time. On this particular day there was rather more of the latter and I awoke with something of a start to find a well-dressed Chinaman standing in the entrance to my cabin. I was paralysed with fear for some moments but the man simply turned and left. When I had come back to myself, I rushed to the door only to find the corridor beyond quite empty; the man having vanished as if by magic.
"It was a dream, I know, and no doubt bought on by the stories that had followed me around Marseilles but I was most unnerved by it all."
And you still are, thought both women but it was Vastra who said, "Fear not, even if he were real these vessels carry many such gentleman involved in the tea trade."
"And they must have plenty of Oriental types in the crew; Serangs or whatever they call the gang-captains and that. Could just have been one of them," Jenny added.
"Quite right too", Milton said, "Did you mention it to anyone, Fred?"
"I did. I talked to the ship's Medico who was kind enough to offer me a draft to calm my sleep. I got the impression that perhaps the story travelled with me, despite my never saying a word. And that the tale of my dream was added to it for I received some very funny looks thereafter."
"Ship's passengers are such old gossips!" Jenny said with some feeling.
"They are, my dear," Vastra said and then, "Now, Mr Calverley, what reactions did your current companions offer to this tale?"
"Raggerton listened with quite extraordinary interest and looked at me very queerly when I had done. 'A deuced odd thing,' he said to Alfred who instantly shut him up.
"I got cross at that point and demanded to know what was going on. Alfred waved it off but I became rather sulky about it all and he called it nonsense horror and refused to say more."
"And this Raggerton?" Jenny said.
"The very next day I found Raggerton in the smoking room looking very glum as he'd had some losses at the course the afternoon before. I favoured him with the offer of a loan but only on condition that he would explain himself and this business. He stated again that it was all utter rot, just some demented fable that had been doing the rounds in Marseilles once I'd left. I made it quite clear that I wanted the whole story and the next morning he presented me with a copy of a letter from his friend Johnnie in the Mediterranean Squadron."
"The substance of which?" Vastra said.
"That there had been a large English barque in Canton Harbour some four months before the events I have described. The name of the vessel was not mentioned but is not material."
Vastra and Jenny shared a significant look but both Calverley and Milton missed it as the former went on.
"Her cargo had been lade and the crew signed on, they only awaited certain formalities to set sail. Beside the vessel lay a Danish ship which had been in a collision outside the harbour. Her cargo had been unloaded and the crew paid off, all excepting an elderly man who was kept on as ship-keeper until the Court could reach its verdict on the issues related to the collision.
"According to the letter, a considerable part of the barque's cargo was the property of a wealthy Mandarin and he had been seen about the ship often while she was taking in her lading. One day that the Mandarin was onboard it happened that three sailors were smoking in the galley with the ship's Chinese cook, a man named as Wo-Li. The old man expatiated on the wealth of the Mandarin and the rumour that he carried upon his person articles of value greater even than that of the cargo itself.
"Alas for the Mandarin, these four men were quite the worst of the ship's compliment."
"Which is saying something, given what sort of men sailors usually are," Jenny said.
"Indeed," Calverley agreed with some feeling, "the moral standards of a ship's forecastle leave much to be desired and even by those standards, this Wo-Li was said to be the worst of the lot. And so the four of them hatched a plot as simple as it was cold-blooded and acted upon it almost immediately.
"By then the ship was set to sail the very next day and that evening, with the Mandarin still aboard and making final arrangements for the care of his cargo, one of the sailors proceeded to the Danish ship armed with whiskey that left the old ship-keeper dead drunk and locked in his berth.
"Meanwhile, Wo-Li made a secret communication with the Mandarin that would eventually lead him to the neighbouring vessel in the mistaken belief that some of his property had been stolen from the barque's hold and hidden therein.
"On the way down the poor man was accosted by the other sailors and a makeshift noose fastened about his neck and pulled upon, lifting him clear of the hatch. Then the sailors let go the rope and the still writhing body dropped down once more. As the Mandarin tumbled into the hold, the sailors belied the rope and followed. There they were joined by Wo-Li who rifled the body to find nothing but the pendant at the man's chest."
"I bet that pleased the wretched creatures!" Milton said.
"There must have been a deal of anger at such meagre pickings, of that I'm quite certain," Calverley agreed and then went on, "but the Chinaman assured his cohorts that the pearl alone was worth a vast amount. So with nothing else for it, the despicable men shorted the rope about their victim's neck and made it look that the man had taken his own life in the isolation of the Danish ship's hold."
The young man paused in his story, his face yet more pale and Milton patted his arm kindly until Calverley drew in a shaky breath and continued, "It was some twenty-four hours before the ship-keeper was sober enough to free himself from his cabin, by which time the barque was well out to sea, and it was another three days before the body was discovered.
"The perpetrators, as you might imagine, were quite beside themselves when it came to disposing of the evidence in the most profitable manner for them all. Since the pendant itself could not be divided, it was decided that Wo-Li would secure the item in his own chest and they would effect a sale when they next made land. It was agreed that the pendant would be made available for inspection upon the request of any of his confederates.
"For six weeks nothing out of the ordinary occurred but then a singular event befell the men. They sat together again in the galley when suddenly Wo-Li gave a shriek of consternation. Upon following the direction of his shaking hand, the sailors found the door of the companion-hatch filled with the Mandarin himself.
"They sat transfixed as he stared at them for a full minute, then beckoned to the cook and turned to go below. So petrified were they that they could not move for some time but eventually left the galley and made enquiries as to the presence of a finely dressed Chinaman amongst the passengers. None were to be found on the vessel.
"At daybreak, the cook's mate went to the galley only to find Wo-Li's body hanging from the hook on the ceiling. He was stiff and cold, evidently dead for some hours. News spread quickly through the barque, as it is want to do, and the three co-conspirators hurried to Wo-Li's chest to secure the pendant before any of the officers could inspect the dead man's belongings.
"Though the lock was cheap and easy to force, there was less enthusiasm to take possession of the item than there had been previously. At last one of the men accepted the burden but they all went about their duties as if weighed down with some great anxiety."
"I should think so," Milton interjected once more.
"A fortnight passed and then at the end of the second dog-watch, the sailor who had taken the pendant came rushing up to one of his fellows and thrust his chest key onto the other's hand. He begged that his confederate take the Mandarin's possession from him. They squabbled until one fell silent, his face ashen as he stared over the other's shoulder. There, behind them, was the Mandarin and once again he was beckoning to them.
"At that very moment an order was barked out and the usual pandemonium of a working vessel took hold of them all. It was not until the next day that the other two realised that the man in whose chest sat the pendant had not been seen since."
"A thorough search was instituted yet it was some time before a shout came from the fore-royal and news of a man hanging there was rushed down to the deck. It was, of course, the man who had possession of the pendant, his body hanging from the fore-topgallant as if it had been there for some time.
"The two remaining men had no wish to take up the cursed item but its great value and the thought of it shared between just two tempted them and so they tossed a coin for the dubious honour. The poor wretch lived in a state of perpetual fear, barely eating or sleeping until the Strait Of Gibraltar hove into view. It was now three weeks since the second death and the two conspirators thought perhaps they had survived the curse after all.
"Until, again in the second dog-watch, both men were paralysed with fear as the Mandarin appeared to them. They resolved to stay close, neither one allowing the other from his sight. Ship's duties forced them to part the next morning and barely an hour later, the man who had yet to take possession of the pendant was searching for his friend. It was then that he saw a junior officer leaning outboard and staring along the side quizzically. The young man gave a shout and the sailors nearby - the fourth of the confederates included - rushed to the side.
"Looking over to the starboard cat-head they could see something hanging there. Of course it was not something at all but the third of the four sailors. Which left the fourth man in sole possession of the pendant, if not his wits, and within sight of land. He thought that would leave him safe from the Mandarin's ire and resolved to slip ashore as soon as ever he might.
"That he did and immediately set off to dispose of the cursed pearl for as much or as little as he could make. And little it turned out to be, for the man's dishevelled appearance and panicked attitude made all assume that the pendant was recently stolen or a fake and that he was desperate to be rid of it before he could be caught.
"His asking price slipped lower and lower, as did his sanity as another dog-watch approached, until he resorted to begging tourists and officers alike to take the thing from him for barely a few francs.
"Eventually a curio-man offered him a few coins and the sailor was pathetically grateful even for that. The pendant was hung in a glass case and nothing more was thought of it until an English gentleman made the purchase for a full five pounds. The curio-man bragged to his friends that he had made a handsome profit on the piece, though confessed to wishing that he had asked a greater price."
Calverley paused, gathering himself and sipping at the now-cooled tea.
Vastra smiled beneath her veil and said, "A tale more remarkable for its picturesque quality than for the ring of truth, if you don't mind me saying so Mr Calverley."
"And so you would think, Madame," Calverley agreed, "and certainly Raggerton waved the letter off as nothing more than Naval gossip; merely another travellers tale that such men of the sea enjoy embellishing."
"So how did all this come to light then?" Jenny asked as she renewed the tea cups, "The sailors' story, I mean."
"Ah," Calverley said, "Raggerton's friend claimed that the fourth sailor had confessed all as he lay dying when back on the barque. It seems that he fell through a hatch, quite inexplicably, during the dog-watch the very day after disposing of the pendant. He was found lying in the hold, close to death, and bared his soul before breathing his last."
"And you believe this story?" Vastra said.
"I do, Madame, though undoubtedly you do not, despite your earlier claim."
"Oh, there may be more things in Heaven and all that, Sir," Jenny said, "but there's plenty that's right here on Earth too."
"There's more isn't there, Fred?" Milton put in and stared hard at his young friend.
"There is. You see, I know that there are things that this science business cannot explain and I choose to believe what I see, even if it cannot be. It is humbler, I think, and wiser too."
"Then do tell us what you've seen, my boy."
"In an odd sort of way it began the very first night I arrived at my cousin's home. I had gone to my room early as I was in need of making certain communications that perforce must be on their way the next morning. After I had completed that task, I made an inspection of the room itself. I was in a nervous state at that point, you recall, and was in the habit of inspecting my room before retiring to bed. Looking in the closets and under the bed and so on.
"Upon inspection, I realised that there was a second door in the room and assumed it to be a storage space. Upon opening it I got the most terrible shock as there, at the far end of a narrow corridor stood a man staring back at me. It was some moments before I realised that the man was in fact my own reflection and that this was not a corridor but a rather unusual closet with a large mirror at the end. The servants had already arranged my clothing within but I had not noticed that in my startled amazement.
"Even then I was in a terrible mess and spent a restless night after which I approached my cousin in regard to the arrangement of the room. Alfred explained that what was now storage space had indeed opened onto a cross corridor. The upstairs had been subdivided to make it more comfortable to his needs and now two separate rooms shared the same strange sort of closet divided by mirrors on either side."
"Raggerton thought the whole business quite humorous, of course, ragging me on the subject for some time until Alfred came to my rescue and told him to stop.
"I accepted the teasing as best I could but I would wish to have the mirror removed, for I have exactly the same reaction every time I open the door. It really is most vexing, even when its your own reflection"
"So, go on then Sir, what else has happened?"
"Well that is the thing Miss Flint, for I know you will brand me a liar or a lunatic for telling you."
"I doubt that very much," Milton said and patted Calverley's arm once more.
"I was recently away from the estate for a fortnight visiting with some acquaintances and had almost forgotten that damnable mirror -"
"Easy, old man," Milton chided.
Calverley blushed and nodded his apologies to the two women before continuing, "I returned quite late and went straight to my room. Having half-undressed and holding a candle in one hand, I opened the door. I entered, set the candle down and proceeded to hang up my clothes. After which I reached for the candle and it was then that I happened to glance up at the mirror. There was something very strange about the reflection. It did not hold a candle at all but rather a paper lantern of the Oriental style.
"Neither was it my own reflection. It was an elderly Chinese gentleman and he regarded me with stony calm that was as unnerving as his very presence.
"We must have stood that way for a full minute, I utterly unable to move. Then I turned and ran for terror, only halting as I made to close the door. I was holding the candle above my head and staring over my shoulder and sure enough, there was he in the same pose, lantern held high.
"I was so upset that I could not rest for hours but paced around the room despite my fatigue. Every so often I was impelled to open the door but there was only ever my own reflection bathed in the candle light and abject fear. I turned away each time, though the pegs on the wall seemed to call to me."
Again Vastra and Jenny shared a long look but it was missed by the two men. Milton was staring in horror at Calverley who himself was staring at the floor, utterly lost in his fearful memories.
Without lifting his head, he continued, "I resolved that night to write to the Consul in Canton and offer to return the pearl to the poor man's relatives. The letter went out the very next morning and I felt somewhat more composed. I even recounted the events to my cousin but he simply laughed and Raggerton told me bluntly not to be such a superstitious donkey.
"For six days I saw nothing more and thought that the letter had appeased the dead man's wrath. But then I was forced to return to my room one evening having left some papers in the pocket of my coat. I did not need to take a candle inside with me as the room was lit brightly enough and I left the door wide open. The coat in question was at the far end of the closet, only a few paces from the mirror.
"I admit that I glanced at it often as I made my way to the coat and fished out the papers that I had left there. It was as I stared at my reflection that something very peculiar occurred. For an instant the mirror clouded over, darkening before it cleared to reveal not my own reflection but that of the Mandarin. After a moment of sheer terror I ran from the closet, shaking so violently that I could barely close the door.
"As I struggled to do so I noticed that the reflection was once more my own, the Chinaman having disappeared as quickly as he came.
"It was now evident that my letter had not served the purpose and I was racked with the horror of it all. Not least because I continually feel the pull of those dreadful pegs. I know what that means but I have managed to resist their power, though sometimes quite reluctantly. My one consolation is that the Mandarin has yet to beckon to me."
"And have you done anything about this?" Vastra asked not unkindly.
"Over these past three days I have considered nothing else and considered it most earnestly, I can tell you. Any number of measures to avert my doom have crossed my mind. The simplest plan that of passing the pearl on to some other poor soul was out of the question; it would amount to murder and I would not have that on my conscience. While I was debating this, the Mandarin appeared to me once more and then again last night. We stared at each other for long minutes, my flesh creeping but I unable to turn away until he reached out to me as if asking for the pearl and then disappeared in a dark cloud.
"That last visitation decided me and I went this very morning to Waterloo bridge and flung the pendant in to the Thames.
"At first I felt quite relieved; I had shaken the accursed thing off without involving anyone else. But then I began to have doubts. What if the pendant washed up and someone else took possession of it? Still, for good or for ill, it was done and there was nothing that I could do to change that."
Calverley finished in a shaky tone and rubbed at his face with a pale, twitching hand. There was a long silence as Jenny stared at the man in concern and Vastra glanced nervously at the clock.
Milton continued to pat the shaking arm and said, "That's when I bumped into Fred, quite by accident, and saw immediately that there was something troubling him."
"Cornelius asked me to meet him at this address and I agreed when he assured me that he knew someone who could offer assistance in whatever haunted me."
Calverley gave a hollow laugh and Milton a deep sigh, "How apt my words were it seems. Now, Madame, what-" The clock struck and everyone but Vastra gave a start. Milton pulled out his pocket watch, checked he had the same time and said, "Well, we'll need to be leaving now if we're to make the train back to Weybridge."
Calverley looked up, surprised, "You are travelling there also?"
"Ah," Milton blustered a little, "thought I might get myself invited to stay at Alfred's place this evening. Make sure you're quite well and settled. Alfred won't mind, do you think?"
Calverley shook his head, a hint of relief in his eyes. Vastra gave a firm nod of agreement and said, "An excellent idea, Mr Milton. Now, Mr Calverley," she rose and the gentlemen stood with her, "you must say nothing of this to anyone else. Miss Flint and I will visit with you tomorrow, if that is acceptable?"
"Most acceptable, Madame, but I really don't see what you can do about this whole ghastly business."
"Oh, we'll just nip in for a cup of tea and make sure you're both doing well," Jenny said and eased Calverley into the hallway at an encouraging nod from Vastra.
"Mr Milton," Vastra said when they were alone, "pray do not let the young man out of your sight. We will deal with this matter tomorrow, I assure you, but I really cannot travel with you today."
"I'm sure neither of us would expect you to, Madame, but do you really think you can find a solution to this now that Fred's disposed of the cursed thing?"
"I believe so and will prove it to you tomorrow, all being well, but do not leave the boy alone tonight."
"Then I look forward to seeing you at Weybridge. I just hope nothing requires my presence back in town but, still," Milton tried to hide his concern, "what could go wrong, eh?"
Milton took his leave and they walked out into the hallway to find Jenny handing Calverley his hat and coat. She leaned into the young man and said, "Now don't you worry about this business, Sir. I know it's quite put you in a muddle but you really must trust that Madame Vastra will sort it all out. And don't worry about the mirror either. All sorts of things show up in mirrors and you can do all sorts of things with them too. They always make people nervous; must be our dislike of seeing our real selves."
The gentleman gave instructions as to how to find their way to Alfred Calverley's estate and then made their final farewells. When she had shut the door behind them, Jenny turned to find Vastra staring at her from beneath a half-raised veil.
"Madame?" she said, a little nervous under such scrutiny.
"You really are the most remarkable ape I have ever known."
Jenny stared back, a dark brow rising high on her forehead before she said, "I'll take that as a compliment, I reckon."
"You should, my dear. Now, forgive me but I must get back to my lab."
"Something brewing?"
"In a manner of speaking."
Vastra lingered, a concerned look still on her face as she glanced back at the door.
"I could have Archie send one of the Irregulars to watch this Mr Alfred's estate, if you'd like?"
Vastra sighed, "I fear it would make no real difference."
"But you're still worried about the young man," Jenny took the few steps to wrap her arms around Vastra's waist, "Mr Milton will keep him safe for now and we'll deal with it tomorrow, eh? Now just you get on back to the lab before something explodes down there. Something else that is."
Fortuitously, nothing did explode and Vastra was able to complete her experiments with only limited damage to either her lab or her pride. What it had done to the cleanliness of the room Jenny did not know and did not care to know. She considered it briefly as the two women sat in the First Class compartment of the train from Waterloo to Weybridge early the next morning but decided that some things were best left alone. Many things if you were living with a Silurian.
Beside her, Vastra's tension was palpable and Jenny reached out to hold her hand for a moment until the ticket collector rattled the door open and fulfilled his duties. When he had left they settled back into the silence until the train pulled into Weybridge Station, the door was flung open from without and the noise of the suddenly busy platform assailed them.
They stepped down expecting to find a servant from Alfred's estate waiting there. Vastra had sent ahead with word that they would be arriving on this train at approximately this time and would the gentlemen be so good as to provide a conveyance. Instead they found Mr Cornelius Milton III pacing back and forth in a most agitated manner, his usually jovial face quite pale and raw with tension and his breathing heavy with exertion.
Jenny felt her lover's own tension increase much as her own. There was no mistaking that something had gone terribly wrong.
"Mr Milton," Jenny said, waving at the man to confirm their location.
He turned mid-pace and guilt washed across his sallow features. "Madame Vastra, Miss Flint, what a relief to have you here. I fear I have failed in my duties and the most horrible thing has occurred," he gabbled, his eyes damp with regret.
"Pray Mr Milton, what exactly has occurred," Vastra asked, though both women were quite certain what the answer would be.
Milton indicated that they should make their way from the platform and out through the small station to a cart with a skittish horse and a worried looking lad. The lad handed Jenny up but was waved away by Vastra and retook his seat. By the time Milton had dropped heavily in beside her, he whipping the horse and the cart juddered into motion.
"Sir?" Jenny prompted.
"I'm afraid poor Fred has taken his life. Entirely my fault, I admit it, for I was unable to remain in Weybridge last evening; called away on urgent business, you understand."
He said the latter as if he were begging for their mercy and Jenny said, "It's not your fault, I really don't think you could have stopped him once he'd settled himself to it," in a kindly tone. She glanced up at Vastra and whispered, "Nor you."
"Blame is a funny thing, my dear, there is always enough of it to go around. But, no Mr Milton, this is neither your fault nor mine. Once the Mandarin beckoned to your young friend there was nothing that could be done."
Milton was all amazement, "However did you know, Madame?" He pulled out a handwritten note from his coat pocket and said, "The servants found it on Fred's writing desk. Must have been the last thing he did before," he trailed off and his eyes were wet once more, "It reads, 'He has beckoned to me and I must go.' Poor Fred, it was all too much for him. So, ladies, you fear it truly was a ghostly presence?"
"Oh no," Jenny said and there was an edge of steel in her voice now, "neither that nor a delusion I should say but let's get to this estate of Mr Alfred's and see what's what, eh?"
The rest of the uncomfortable but blessedly short journey was made in silence. An elderly butler waited for them outside the house and showed definite signs of not wishing to re-enter it in the near future. Compelled by his position, he lead them through the house and up the stairs to Calverley's bedroom.
Jenny asked Milton, "How has the cousin taken it?" as they approached the room.
"He doesn't know, I'm afraid. He and Raggerton had business of some sort in Guildford and left early this morning. Aren't due back for another hour or two. The catastrophe was discovered only a few minutes after they left. A maid went up with Fred's cup of tea and found the room empty. She reported it to Stevens here and he came up to the room at once."
"Searched the room but found no sign of the young man, Madame," Stevens said in a voice as slow and ponderous as his movements, "I was just leaving when I happened to think of the closet and looked inside."
He shuddered visibly and shook his head, "Quite the most shocking thing I have seen since my Army days."
They were outside the door now and Stevens reluctantly pushed it open. He held the door for them to enter but declined to follow, excusing himself and turning away immediately.
"Poor soul was as startled as Fred had been to see his reflection staring back at him," Milton said as they stepped inside, "It took him a moment before he found," and here he trailed off, his shaking hand pointing to the bed.
There lay a slim figure shrouded in crisp white sheets. Milton snuffled audibly and Jenny comforted him as Vastra made straight for the bed. She eased the shroud back and studied the body for a moment before feeling the limbs and examining the neck. A cord was still bound tight around the bruised flesh, its ragged end a testament to the panic of the old servant as he attempted to save the young man's life.
"Time of death approximately three in the morning," Vastra said.
Jenny considered the body for a moment and said, "He must have struggled with it for hours."
Milton snuffled again and spoke in a shaky tone, "The poor lad ought never to have been here. I should have refused the business that took up my time and kept him at home with me."
"There, there, Sir," Jenny gave him a brief hug and added, "You really shouldn't blame yourself."
She looked away from the weeping man, allowing him what little privacy she could and considered the room. Vastra was already walking around, getting a sense of the place, and Jenny could see the tip of her tongue darting out once or twice as she tasted the air.
Jenny doubted there was anything to find in here but she shivered a little despite herself. Alfred Calverley's estate was certainly no place for a nervous young man. The house was old and a little poorly kept; the staff unable to keep on top of their master's changing lifestyle and tastes. The room might be bright enough on a summer's day but any hint of cloud outside seemed to throw a pall over the window.
Vastra moved towards the second door that was set a little back from the wall and on the other side of the bed from the entrance to the room. Jenny eased Mr Milton into the chair by the writing desk and followed her. The door gave a quiet creak of protest as it was opened and the corridor beyond was long and gloomy even at this hour. It was quite as terrifying as Calverley had claimed and that was before you looked down its full length to see the figures staring back at you. It was easy to understand Calverley's insistence that the ghost of the Mandarin was real and the whole gristly tale true.
They walked down the length of the closet, casting perfunctory glances at the clothes that hung from high pegs on one side and the shelves that lined the other. From one of the far pegs hung a thick box cord frayed from repeated cuts by a blunt blade. Jenny considered, measuring the height and comparing it to Calverley's stature.
Vastra ignored it completely and made straight for the mirror, examining it minutely. It was large and filled the width of the closet, entirely cutting across what had been the corridor at, presumably, halfway.
Vastra studied the glass and the surround carefully before rapping at the glass with her gloved knuckles. "A match, my dear?" she said, holding out a hand as Jenny rummaged in her pockets for the requested item.
"It'll stink in here," Jenny muttered as she handed a metal box to her companion.
"I have been working on that," Vastra said and noticed Jenny's panicked look in the mirror. She grinned beneath her veil and said, "Trust me."
"Oh, I do, Madame. It's just what I trust you to do that's the problem."
Vastra gave a playful hiss and struck the match against the coarse metal of the box. It sparked and flared violently for a moment before calming into a more controlled flame. Jenny rolled her eyes and Vastra hissed again, "Did I not tell you?"
"Didn't tell me I'd be loosing my eyebrows, did you?"
"Really, my dear, you are incorrigible."
"Then why do you keep encouraging me?"
"I say, is everything all right, ladies?" Milton's voice came from the door.
They watched him walk hesitantly down the length of the closet, his eyes never leaving the mirror. Vastra studied it too as she moved the flame around the narrow space in slow, deliberate movements. A heavy chemical smell wafted around them but it was not as unpleasant of the phosphorus stench of the matches that could be purchased from the tobacconists stores.
When she had finished Vastra said, "I believe we can return to the bedroom." As they stepped out into the larger space she added, "Mr Milton, pray sit at the desk and jot down a precis of the story that Mr Calverley told yesterday. The Police will no doubt require such an explanation. My dear," she turned to Jenny, "you first, I think. I will keep an eye to the door for the return of Mr Calverley and Captain Raggerton."
Jenny nodded her understanding and left the room where Milton hesitated about the desk before deciding to stand by the window and make notes in his pocketbook. He stood angled away from both the body and the closet, his head bent to his task, only his occasional snuffles disturbing a strange sort of peace.
He wrote assiduously for some five minutes before there came the sounds of rapid footsteps outside the room and then the door was thrown open. A young man entered and Milton turned to greet him with a sorry shake of his head.
"Alfred, this is a sad return for you."
"It's awful," Alfred Calverley said as he stared at the corpse, wiping his forehead absently. He was little more prepossessing than his cousin and also showed sighs of some neurotic tendency. There were obvious signs of dissipation too and he appeared particularly pale and ghastly at that moment. Vastra tasted the air and noted the odour of brandy about him despite the early hour.
Jenny slipped back into the room beside Vastra and studied the man too, bobbing a half-hearted curtsey when he noticed them.
"Really, this is no place for ladies," he said, gesturing to the bed with a twitching hand.
"Oh, don't worry about that, Alfred," Milton said, "this is Madame Vastra herself and her trusted companion, Miss Flint."
Alfred regarded them with suspicion but nodded a vague greeting before turning back to Milton, "The Great Detective? Is that really necessary? We all know what Fred was like."
"Mr Calverley," Vastra began and he reluctantly turned back to them, "has Captain Raggerton returned also?"
"No, no, he hasn't. He had some additional business in town but he should be back quite soon. This will come as a terrible shock to him."
"Mr Milton, why don't you show Mr Alfred here the note," Jenny said and with the two men so engaged eased Vastra to the door. They conferred in whispers and then Vastra slipped from the room.
Alfred took the note in and read it slowly, the paper trembling in his hands. "Beckoned? Who beckoned? To what?"
Milton cast Jenny a surprised glance and said, "We thought you knew all about this business. The pendant and the Mandarin and all of it."
Alfred paled further and slumped into the chair at the writing desk. "Yes, I suppose I knew about that," he said, "but it's all so terrible, I hardly remember what Fred told us. It was some time ago, you know?"
"And Fred had already disposed of the awful thing," Milton said.
Alfred's head jerked up, suddenly intent he said, "What?"
"You'll need to look in there sir," Jenny said, seemingly ignoring the reaction and pointed to the closet door, "You should pay attention to the cord, since the Police will want to know where it came from."
Alfred looked horrified and stared at the door for some time before saying, "I couldn't...I mean, I...that is, I couldn't bare to. Milton, be a good chap and bring it to me, would you?"
"Oh no," Jenny said as Milton made to open the door, "it can't be moved before the Police get here. They don't like people messing about with that sort of thing."
Alfred made a strange sort of lunge for the door, his entire body shaking as he opened it and took a hesitant step inside. He gave a shriek of horror and staggered back, falling in to the seat with a thump that threatened to overturn it. He stared at the half-open door in abject fear, livid and gasping.
"What is it man?" Milton asked but Alfred was completely insensible.
Jenny waved Milton to the door and followed him, keeping half on eye on Alfred as she went. Suddenly he burst into peals of hysterical laughter that stopped them both until he had calmed once more into a trembling silence.
Milton opened the door fully and took one step inside before giving a terrified shout of, "Good lord!" and pushing past Jenny in his haste to leave the confined space.
Jenny remained, staring at the well-dressed, elderly Chinese gentleman who stared back from the mirror. The figure bowed politely to her and with a wave of one hand, shimmered into darkness and was replaced with her own reflection.
Jenny grinned, rolling her eyes at the little display before leaving the closet to find Milton staring out of the window, his face glowing red. Alfred was still in the chair, rocking back and forth, snivelling and laughing alternately. It was not an edifying or pleasant spectacle and Jenny's dislike for the man dropped to disgust.
Vastra had the same reaction when she slipped back into the room beside her a few minutes later. She stood by her companion and was about to speak when there came the sounds of another approach, quickly followed by the entrance of a young man.
The newcomer accosted Alfred immediately with barely a glance at the other occupants of the room, including the body that lay exposed on the bed. He shook Alfred violently by the arms and shouted at him to stop it and pull himself together and the like.
Alfred whimpered, "I can't, he gave me such a fright - the Chinaman!"
Raggerton stared at him in disgust, "What?"
Alfred pointed to the closet and Raggerton yanked the door open, stared inside and then rushed from the room. Vastra and Jenny quickly followed, Jenny indicating that Milton should join them.
She pulled the key from the inside of the lock where Calverley had evidently left it unused the night before and locked the room, Alfred still hysterical within.
Vastra and Milton were already at the entrance to another room and Jenny hurried to join them as they stepped inside. It was much the same as Calverley's bedroom but in reverse, the only notable difference being the inclusion of a large mirror in a nicely carved frame that stood beside the window. Not far from that was a second door where Raggerton stood, tugging at the handle in some urgency.
"Who the deuce are you two? What do you think you're doing, barging into my room like this Milton? This is my room, you know?"
"Yes, Sir," Jenny said, "I thought it must be."
"Indeed, Captain Raggerton, but I fear you will not be able to open the door. I have rather tampered with the lock."
"Madame, honestly," Jenny mock-tutted as she took a menacing step towards Raggerton.
"You are quite right, my dear," Vastra said before returning her attention to the man, "The items in the closet are yours, are they not? All of them?"
Fuming, Raggerton made towards Vastra but Jenny blocked his path. Milton was horrified and said, "Raggerton, old man, please do stay calm."
"As you have surmised, I have indeed examined the contents, Captain," Vastra continued as if entirely unconcerned.
"The devil you have!"
"As well as requesting that the local Constabulary be called, along with Inspector Brown of Scotland Yard."
Raggerton was livid with anger and fear. He made to push past Jenny and found himself lying on the floor, knocked into stupification by an unexpectedly fierce uppercut.
"Good Lord!" Milton said again, staring at Jenny with a combination of admiration and horror in his eyes.
"Couldn't have been much of a Guardsman," Jenny muttered as she rubbed at her hand with some vigour, "not with a glass jaw like that."
"My dear, I must find you a pugilistic styling and enter you into the ring."
"You'd make a pretty penny, Madame," Milton agreed, "Now then, ladies, what is going on here?"
"Come," Vastra said and walked to the closet door. She used her body to shield the lock for a moment but Jenny could hear the little whirring sound of some device or other that Vastra had been working on in her lab. It took far longer and seemed to Jenny far less effective than her lockpicks but it pleased her companion to create such things and their recent foray into the future had spurred her imagination in that regard.
With the door open they walked inside to find the same narrow space as in Calverley's room but it was darker as there was no mirror at the end. Instead there was a panel of some sort that cut across the corridor.
Clothing hung on the pegs that lined the side and cases the floor of the other but closer to the end of the space the clothing changed. It was certainly unusual, noticeably so even from the entrance to the closet but as they reached its end, the differences were obvious. There, on the final peg of the run hung an oriental gown and a cap with a pigtail attached to its back. On the peg next to it hung a papier-mache mask of some particular design above a lantern and other props of a theatrical nature that littered the floor.
Vastra took down the mask and showed the label within to Milton. It bore the marque of Renoud a Paris.
"An excellent theatrical costumier, noted as one of the best in Europe I believe. My dear?"
Jenny slipped off her coat and on the gown, followed by the mask and cap. It was all too large for her small frame, the gown dragging at her feet as if she were a child playing in her mother's clothes, but it illustrated the point quite nicely. In the dark of the closet the remarkable workmanship served to produce a passable imitation of a short Chinese gentleman.
"With a little more time," Vastra pointed to the shoes and lantern on the floor, "and for the intended wearer of this costume, the illusion would be most effective."
"Good Lord," Milton said and then blushed, aware that those words had escaped his lips rather too often through this whole affair. He muttered his apology but it was waved away by both women. Milton considered Jenny's bedecked form for a moment and then pointed to the board that formed the end of the closet, "But what about that, eh? How ever did they pull off this grand illusion. It was Raggerton and Alfred, yes?"
"Most certainly was, Sir," Jenny said and flexed her hand instinctively.
"Cheifly Captain Raggerton, I suspect," Vastra added.
Milton's gaze returned to the board, "But the Mandarin, the beckoning and all that? How on Earth was the apparition rendered?"
"Oh, they do it with mirrors, you see," Jenny said and wriggled her other hand free of the too-long sleeve to point to the edge of the board, "Like in the theatre."
Vastra took the final pace to the board itself and tapped at it, "This is the back of the mirror. You see that it is hung on these three large hinges."
"Well oiled too," Jenny put in, "to keep the noise down and make it all run smooth."
"Indeed," Vastra sighed but accepted the interruption in deference to her companion's particular interest in all things theatrical, "You will notice that the whole is supported on large rubber castors, evidently on ball-bearings. Now observe the three black cords running along the wall and passing through these pulleys above."
Vastra took hold of the first of the cords and gave it a firm pull. The board swung noiselessly inward on its castors until turned in alignment with the corridor and there a rubber buffer halted its motion.
"Bless my soul," Milton said, though there had been a hard G sound audible for an instant before he did so, "What an extraordinary thing!"
The effect was certainly an odd one as now that the mirror was set at the angle, the closet appeared to be a single, much longer corridor with doors at either end. Where the mirror had been there stood only a sheet of plain glass, stopping anyone from walking the entire length of the corridor and, hence, discovering the illusion.
"And the other cords," Jenny prompted.
Vastra pulled on the second cord, drawing a black curtain across the gap, and then on the third, returning the mirror to its original and intended position.
Jenny pointed out a large sheet covering something set flat against the wall a little closer to the door, "And there's the original mirrors."
"The one that troubled your friend so greatly when first he entered the adjoining space and the one that had served Raggerton himself," Vastra said and bought the explanation to an end.
While Milton considered all this, Vastra helped her companion to divest herself of the gown and other accoutrement of the deception. Then the two women encouraged Milton to return to the outer room where they found Raggerton gone.
Jenny said something that shocked Milton as least as much as her prizefighting skills but Vastra eased her ire with, "Fear not, my dear, I happened to mention in my note that the local Constabulary should keep an eye on the station as a matter of some urgency. As well as instructing the servants to keep the cart well out of the way."
"My word, ladies, you really do think of everything," Milton said and then, "But I'm still baffled by it all. This business is well out of my bailiwick," he indicted the closet with a vague flick of his hand, "but the rest of it too. How did they ever know about this business soon enough to plan it all? They certainly couldn't have known about the Mandarin and that business on Fred's return home."
"Oh no," Jenny agreed "but they had plenty of time after he got here. The Mandarin didn't appear to Mr Fred until after Raggerton had given him the letter, remember?"
"With that they seeded the whole fictitious tale in Mr Calverley's already fibril imagination, concocting the story of Raggerton's Naval friend to prey on his superstitions."
"Is Alfred there," Jenny gave a nod towards the other room, "the next of kin?"
"No," Milton said, now on firmer ground, "there is a younger brother. Though Fred recently made out a will that is very much in favour of Alfred."
"The motive, then," Vastra said, "And the money involved would no doubt provide for the dissolute lifestyle that Captain Raggerton and Alfred Calverley wished to live."
"And the pendant too, remember, it would have paid off a few debts on its own," Jenny added.
"A great many, I dare say," Milton looked back at the closet, "but that remarkable contraption. How ever did it get there?"
"Mr Calverley mentioned that he had been away for a fortnight, did he not?" Vastra said.
"By Jove, he did!"
"And that's plenty of time for someone to come in and do that. Someone from the theatre, I should say," Jenny said, "That's how they make ghosts and whatnot appear, you see, with mirrors and a bit of smoke."
"Miss Flint is something of an aficionado of the theatrical arts," Vastra said with a warm smile beneath the veil, "An interest that she appears to share with Captain Raggerton and perhaps Mr Alfred Calverley."
"I'll see them in gaol for this, those two scoundrels!" Milton blustered. The sound of a bell rang loud downstairs and then there were the heavy footsteps of Police officers on the move, "And there they are, just at exactly the right moment."
Milton hurried to the door and Vastra and Jenny followed, neither much looking forward to dealing with the formalities of the situation. Local Constabularies could be at least as exasperating as Scotland Yard itself and the officers often even less well equipped for their jobs.
Jenny squeezed Vastra's hand, aware that her lover had not entirely let go of the regret that she would always associate with the case, "Let's just get out of here, eh? Go home and have a nice cup of tea."
They held back as Milton greeted the local Sergeant with a torrent of explanation and accusation that quite startled the poor man. In amongst the tirade, the Sergeant was able to impart that they had apprehended a gentleman answering Raggerton's description attempting to purchase a railway ticket North. Milton made it clear that Raggerton was no gentleman and went on to lead the officers to the door of Fred's room.
"You might need a Doctor to him, Sarge," Jenny offered as the man reached for the key that she had left in the lock.
And with that the two women excused themselves and beat a dignified yet rapid retreat, one to console the other as best as she and the soothing balm of tea could manage.