6. The letter
The next afternoon Utterson went to visit Dr. Jekyll and confront him about what Hyde had done. The previous evening a slightly battered and shaken Sir Carew had stumbled into his office and rambled about being attacked by some dwarfish, evil-looking stranger (Utterson had no trouble guessing who that was) and being saved by the heroic endeavour of one Lady Summers. After discussing the letter Sir Carew had come to him for, the lawyer had accompanied him home for safety. The old gent asked him to look for Lady Summers, worried for her welfare.
So Utterson had hurried to her home to ask for her. This time it was her Japanese lady-in-waiting who let him in and filled him in on what had happened. Lady Summers had come shortly before him, rather dishevelled and exhausted and spitting blood, but seemingly uninjured. Just in that moment, the mistress of the house herself had tumbled into the room and reassured the concerned lawyer that she hadn't been hurt and that her current condition was a common occurrence.
"Your concern for me is very gratifying, my dear Utterson", she had said tiredly, "It makes me happy that someone actually cares how I do, really. But be assured, this is not as bad as it looks. I will be bed-ridden for a few days, but apart from that I will be well."
Then she had bid him good night and he had gone home, deep in thought.
Now he was fuming with anger at what had happened, but somehow he managed to keep up his professional mask.
When he was admitted to Jekyll's cabinet, it was foggy, despite the fire in the chimney and the lamb burning nearby. And by the fireplace sat Dr. Jekyll, looking deathly sick. He didn't stand up, but took Mr. Utterson's hand and bade him welcome.
"Have you heard the news?", Utterson asked him as soon as Poole had left.
"Yes", said Jekyll with a shudder, "They were crying it in the square. I heard them in my dining room."
"Listen", the lawyer said earnestly, "Sir Carew is my client and I can't stand for the wrong that has been done to him. But you're my client too and I want to know what I'm doing. Please tell me, that you haven't been mad enough to hide that fellow."
He would have said 'demon', but he wasn't that impolite.
Jekyll turned even paler and cried: "No! Utterson, I swear to God – I shall never see him again! I'm done with him, I promise you! And even if I wasn't, he doesn't want my help; you don't know him like I do; he will be alright, safe and we shall never hear of him again!"
The doctor was so feverish, so close to hysteria, that it made Mr. Utterson's heart ache.
"You seem to be sure of him", he stated gloomily, "And I hope that you're right. If it came to a trial, your name could appear and you'd be in–"
"I am! Trust me, I am! No one knows him like I do, even though I can't tell anyone how or why. But there is one thing you can help me with: I have received this letter and I don't know what to do with it. I would like you to have a look first, Utterson – I have so much faith in your sound judgement."
"Are you worried that he could be detected through it?"
"Not at all, to be honest, I don't even care what might happen to him now. I was thinking of myself and worried that the police might come to the conclusion, that I had something to do with the assault of poor Sir Carew."
The lawyer wasn't sure why he was so relieved at his friend's selfishness, but finally he caught himself and asked for the letter. It was written in an unusually upright hand and signed "Edward Hyde". The content was nothing surprising, a brief sort-of-apology to Dr. Jekyll for repaying his generosity so ungratefully and an assurance that the doctor needn't worry about Hyde's safety, that the young man had his own means of escape and would be fine. The lawyer found this letter oddly pleasant, seeing some of his past suspicions unfounded, which relieved him to no end.
But when he asked for the envelope, Jekyll informed him, that he had burnt it and that it had born no postmark, when he had received it. The doctor allowed the lawyer to keep it, because he had lost all confidence in himself.
That was all fine, but Utterson had one more pressing question: "Those terms in your will about your disappearance – did Hyde dictate them?"
"… Yes", the doctor nodded weakly, looking as if he was about to faint.
"I knew it!", Utterson said grimly, "He wanted to murder you. You got away just in time."
"It's more than that", Dr. Jekyll returned solemnly, "I have learned a lesson – oh God, Utterson, what lesson!"
"No doubt", the other remarked, "The man who is to inherit your fortune almost killed an old gentleman and a lady. Lady Summers may be capable of defending herself, but it's all the same. I saw her after the incident, she was in quite a bad shape, even though she told me that he hadn't injured her – she was coughing blood."
"Oh my God!", Dr. Jekyll whimpered, "Oh my God!"
Then he buried his face in his hands for a moment. The lawyer tried and failed to cheer his poor distressed friend up, bid him goodbye after a while and saw himself out. But on the way he asked Poole, who had handed in the note that Jekyll had given him. The confused butler told him that nothing had been handed in at all today and that the post had only brought circulars.
Never mind my hopes from earlier, there is still reason for panic!
Later that day, he was sitting in his own home, in front of his own chimney, with his head clerk, Mr. Guest, for company. He was hoping that Guest, being a specialist in handwriting, could help him out. After a short conversation, Utterson showed him the letter.
Guest took it with great interest. After studying it intensely, he could tell his superior that, while looking odd and strangely familiar, this was not the writing of a madman.
Just in this moment the servant came in to hand Utterson a dinner invitation from Dr. Jekyll.
"May I see it?", Guest asked.
Utterson was slightly confused, but handed him the invitation.
When the clerk finally gave both notes back to him, he stated: "Thank you, sir. That certainly is an interesting autograph."
There was an uncomfortable silence, in which Utterson struggled with himself, before suddenly inquiring: "Why did you compare them, Guest?"
"Well, sir, there is a rather striking resemblance; these two handwritings are identical in many ways, only differently sloped."
"That's strange", the lawyer noted, trying to remain calm.
"Yes, it is", Mr. Guest agreed.
"Let us not speak of this again."
"Of course not, sir. I understand."
But as soon as Utterson was alone that night, he allowed himself to fly into a mental panic attack. Henry Jekyll had forged for Edward Hyde, that was painfully obvious. His best friend was lying to him, God knew since when.
Goddammit, Henry!
I quoted the book again. I didn't know how I could put this much better than Mr. Stevenson did, so I transcribed parts of the chapter and changed the phrasing. Of course I added a few details here and there, because this is my AU!story. ^^
