TITLE: The Case Of The Unusual Wound
AUTHOR: Talepiece
RATING: 12 cert.
PAIRING: Vastra/Jenny
SERIES: The Casebook Of Madame Vastra
CONTINUITY: This is the third of the Vastra/Jenny detective stories.
SUMMARY: Vastra and Jenny investigate a breach in the security of a private bank.
DISCLAIMER: Vastra and Jenny don't belong to me, very little else does either.
CREDITS: This story has many inspirations, some old and some new, though no specific antecedent. A couple of the characters are based on or directly from stories that will be referenced in later installments. I've taken liberties with a couple of Classic Who alien races too.
NOTE: This part is a bit different — and not the original part three I wrote before posting the first story — because I'd like to continue with the Casebook series and I thought I'd better try out a few other things while I still had a bit of leeway. Feedback welcome, as always.
Oh, and please don't go back and re-read The Missing Bullet's description of the area of London Jenny was living in :-)
It took a little time before Madame Vastra and her companion Jenny Flint were presented with a case that had, shall we say, little to do with humanity's foibles and rather more to do with the presence of non-humans on Earth. The Case Of The Unusual Wound introduced Jenny Flint to the presence of others more strange than her friend and gave rise to their lifelong commitment to protect the Earth and it's not always grateful inhabitants from such threats.
Jennifer Strax Vastra-Flint
London, 1948
Jenny Flint smiled as she let herself into the small house that she shared with her friend Madame Vastra. She smiled because it was her own home, the first that she had had and far more than she had ever expected to have, and because she was returning to her friend. The events of the past few months had been a blur of mysteries and excitement but they had also been filled with Vastra, that most remarkable of women. Not a woman in the human sense, of course, but a proud Silurian warrior who had chosen to remain in the middle of a humanity that seemed to both repulse and attract her in equal measure.
Jenny blushed a little at the thought of what might be attracting Vastra, what might be keeping her here in one of the world's most densely populated cities. Something was holding the two women together and Jenny hoped with all her heart that she knew what it was. More still that Vastra understood it too. She would have to work up the courage to raise the topic, Jenny decided, but how did you go about broaching such a delicate subject with someone who wasn't even human?
Jenny didn't have time to consider the problem further as Vastra herself stepped out into the hallway in front of her.
"There you are, my dear, what perfect timing as always."
"Everything all right, Madame?"
Jenny stopped unbuttoning her coat and took back her hat from the stand that stood near the door. Vastra was already in her own coat, her veil held casually in one hand and a telegram in the other.
She raised the paper in explanation, "We have had an urgent communication and are away to Belgravia this instant."
"Belgravia? What's gone on there then, someone had their second best jewels lifted?"
"Quite possibly. I will explain more as we travel, let us hail a cab at once."
They went outside and Jenny fixed her bonnet on her head as Madame Vastra indicated their need for a Hansom with a sharp flick of her gloved hand. It never failed to draw a cab to them and Jenny wondered yet again if there was some sort of strange mind control at work. She decided not to mention the idea to Vastra.
They settled into their seats and Vastra said, "We have had a telegram from Carter Lawrie. A private banking establishment of some repute."
"Define repute, Madame," Jenny said, aware that reputation could be gained in many ways.
"An astute question. While Carter Lawrie is, on the surface at least, an establishment of the highest order, with a clientele of the same, there has been some suggestion throughout it's sixty year history that perhaps not all of their clientele are of the highest moral calibre."
"That's highly unlikely, I should say. How many of the best sort," Jenny's mouth twisted as she used the phrase, "are really of the highest calibre, eh?"
"Indeed. Whether or not they are, the bank has been extremely successful over the past few years, growing in both reputation and financial reward. They have a very profitable investment arm but that is not our concern for today."
"What then, Madame?"
"They have suffered a failure in their security. A significant failure, I would say, given the urgency of this missive."
Vastra handed the telegram to Jenny, who read it through slowly before handing it back. Vastra had insisted that she improve her letters and numbers, tutoring her in both, but she still took a little longer than she would like in these things. Practice was, as Vastra insisted, the key but how was she supposed to get the time to practice such things when urgent telegrams kept getting in the way?
"Sounds serious."
"I suspect so. Such establishments generally have private vaults where their clients can store their own locked boxes. Carter Lawrie have at least two - or so I have deduced - although only one is widely known. I suspect that the more exclusive vault is open to only a very select group of clients and at their disposal night and day."
"So if that's the vault that's been done, they really are going to be up in arms?"
"As we are about to find out, my dear."
The Hansom pulled up to the white stuccoed terrace, coming to a juddering halt in front of the entrance to one of the buildings. A doorman in a long black frock coat helped them down and opened the door to them as they passed through the surprisingly understated entrance. The door opened on to a simply furnished greeting area where a young man in a sharply pressed suit welcomed them with a bow.
Vastra explained their presence and he lead them to an office set further back on the same level. His expression was grave as he ushered them into the office and introduced them to Sir Neville Carter, one of the bank's owners. He was a tall, older man with a sharp face and hawk's eyes. They took in Vastra and Jenny with one long glance before he nodded his greeting and offered his hand to Vastra.
"Madame Vastra, you are very good to answer our call for assistance so promptly."
"It is our pleasure to be of service, Sir Neville. Allow me to introduce my associate, Miss Flint."
"Delighted, I'm sure," he said, though he neither looked nor sounded anything of the sort. He turned to the young man, "Phillips, run down to the vault and have Mr Harcourt open her up for us, would you? We'll be down in a few moments."
The young man bowed to the room in general and left without a word. Sir Neville waved them to the seats on the visitor's side of his expansive desk and settled himself in to the large, leather chair on the other side.
"You have suffered a loss, Sir Neville?"
"Indeed we have, Madame. Our private vault has been violated."
"Violated?" Jenny said.
"Our security is second to none, I assure you ladies, and we have an impeccable record of protecting both our clients' property and their privacy."
"You are uncomfortable discussing your bank's business with outsiders, of course Sir Neville," Vastra said smoothly, "However, we must know the details, if we are to offer our assistance."
"Yes, I suppose so. Still, I have your word that this matter will remain absolutely confidential? No tittle-tattling in the tearooms?"
Jenny felt Vastra straighten beside her and struggled to keep her face still.
"I assure you," Vastra said in a voice with more than a hint of danger to it, "that we are utterly discrete, Sir Neville. I do not believe you would have called my associate and I here had you any doubts on the matter."
"Oh, I have a great many doubts, Madame, make no mistake. However," he stood from his chair and indicated the door, "Harcourt tells me that you have quite a reputation in these sorts of things so you may as well see the full extend of it."