Smoke and Mirrors
Chapter 1
"Now Ellie, I'm sure that Mr Jago didn't mean it like that at all, did you Henry?"
"Eh? Well, all I meant was that a well-managed hostelry wouldn't keep– Ow! What'd you do that for, Litefoot?"
"All Mr Jago meant was that the Red Tavern's cellar is second to none and that he appreciates how difficult it is to keep it so, and how hard you work to maintain those paramount standards."
Ellie's knuckles were still white on her hips, and Litefoot could see that he had done little to mollify her. He was about to try again when a diversion presented itself. A familiar figure emerged from the lively fug of the lounge behind her and the professor grasped the opportunity at once, leaving Ellie no chance to resume her attack.
"Ah, Inspector Quick! What a pleasure to see you. Are you on duty, or can I offer you a drink? It's so hard to tell since your promotion."
"Very kind of you I'm sure Professor. Miss Higson. Mr Jago." Quick removed his billycock and slicked his hair back into place as he reached the table and acknowledged the others. "But I am indeed on duty, I'm afraid."
Ellie's mood softened a little with Quick's arrival and, since it seemed that he would not be ordering, she bustled to clear the empties from the nearby booths, brusquely snatching the drained tankard from Jago as she did.
"Hmm, well from the looks of you that duty is about to involve us, I'll wager." Jago offered, "What is it this time, Quick? Spurious spectres stalkin' the streets of Spittalfields? Monstrous mannequins murderin' members of parlia-"
"Henry, do you mind?" interrupted the professor, giving his friend a severe look. "Now, Inspector, if you're sure that we can't offer you some refreshment…", he paused for confirmation, "then how may we be of assistance? Assuming that we can?"
"Well, yes, Professor, I'm certainly hoping that you can. I realise that it's an unusual hour to ask but now that I've found you I'd very much like you to come along with me to the mortuary. I've got a carriage outside."
Litefoot peered across the smoky bar at the clock. "It is a peculiar hour for that, indeed. What - or should I say who - am I likely to find there at this time that won't wait until morning?"
"Yes, it's not like they'll be wantin' to get off home to bed or out to a late night performance, now is it, not the usual customers?" Jago added, "At least I should hope not."
"If you don't mind, Professor, Mr. Jago, I'd rather not go into that until we get there. The thing is," he glanced around and leant low over the table, dropping his voice to a confidential hiss, "there are certain elements of the press – and others – who would be very interested if they were to hear of this um… incident, and the Chief would very much like to have the… details settled before they gets wind of it."
"I see. Very well, Inspector, I suppose that I'd better come along." George Litefoot rose from the table and gathered up his overcoat, cane and hat. He turned back to drain the last of his glass. "Henry, I'll speak to you tomorrow, I expect-"
"I'd like Mr. Jago to come along with us too, if you'd be so good?", Quick interjected, turning to the other man.
"Me?" Jago's eyebrows shot upward. "In the mortuary at this time o' night? Whatever for? No, no, the Professor's your man for that. He'll relay the details in due course. Pass on the particulars and press the peculiar perspicacity of Henry Gordon Jago into action on the morrow. I'm no good late at night y'know."
"I'm afraid it's a question of identification, Mr. Jago.", countered the Inspector. "I understand that you may have encountered the… individual concerned in the past, in a professional capacity. We'd very much like to confirm the identity as soon as we can, and you may be one of the few people in a position to do that. We're making other enquiries, but still…"
"Oh. Oh lumme. I see". Henry looked about him, and glanced towards the bar. "Well then… I suppose there's no chance of a quick snifter before we go?"
~~oOo~~
It did not take long for the Constabulary growler to reach its destination, and Jago and Litefoot had learned very little more of the case from Quick by the time that they were walking the echoing, whitewashed corridor toward the mortuary itself.
The Inspector had divulged that the river patrol had pulled a body from the Thames - near Blackfriars - earlier that evening. There was evidently something quite distinctive about the appearance of the corpse, which had resulted in considerable speculation among the men involved, and yet Quick remained close-mouthed about the details of this "distinctive" appearance, or any likely cause of death, or even the sex of the "individual" concerned. Litefoot endeavoured to contain his curiosity. Henry Gordon Jago did not.
"…man, woman or child? Oh Lor! A nipper! Some fearsome devil of the deep half-devourin' a poor innocent little tyke. I don't think I can bring myself to look. George, I'll wait here. Be a good fellow and just describe what you can to me through the door, would you? Oh, but not the… the… pathological bits, please!"
"Don't take on so, Mr. Jago." Quick reassured him, "It's nothing like that. Not at all. The body is quite intact and, well, peaceful I suppose you'd say." He opened the door for the professor to enter.
"Yes, come along Henry. We've seen some hideous things over the years, I know, but I doubt that anything here will come close. Surely Henry Gordon Jago is made of sterner stuff?"
Henry Gordon Jago's silence was not so sure,
The ceiling globes were already lit, but burning only dimly. The professor hung up his overcoat, hat and jacket before donning a large vulcanized-rubber apron. As he did, Quick pulled at the nearer of the overhead globes' chain, and the mantle flared brightly.
In the centre of the white-tiled room stood the monumental, tomblike autopsy table. A figure lay upon it, draped from head to toe with a stained and heavy canvas. As it was revealed by the light, Jago drew a startled breath of the chill air. His nose flared at the tang of formaldehyde and carbolic. Lifebouy! A bit late for that.
Litefoot finished tying his apron and rolled back his shirt-sleeves as he approached the covered form. Jago noticed a small pool of grimy water that had formed below one side of the table. Another drip rippled the surface of the pool as he watched. At last, the professor reached up to pull down the cover. "So what poor unfortunate have you brought us to examine tonight?" He turned the top of the thick cloth back to reveal the figure's head and shoulders.
A ridged and hairless skull lay uncovered. The jade-green scales covering head and face dully glistened with Thames-water. The face was delicate, almost beautiful, but inhuman and predatory, even in death.
Jago, at last, came forward. "Vastra? Madame Vastra!". He stared down at the sightless eyes. "Corks!"