Chapter Nineteen: The Phantom of Whitechapel Part Two
"The two most powerful warriors are patience and time." ~Leo Tolstoy
*This chapter takes the place of the Phantom of Whitechapel arc in the manga*
August 31st, 1879
London, England, United Kingdom, Europe
Marie stretched as she stepped out of the carriage. Albert held her suitcase and helped her down. They had been in the carriage for a little over an hour before arriving at their destination. Said destination was a house the Moriarty's had purchased as a sort of in-between house between their estates. It was a modest two-bedroom house with flower bushes lining the walkway up to the front door.
Inside was clean and neat, free of any dust. A fire had already been lit in the corner, evidence of housekeeping having been there. Marie passed through the small kitchen and sitting area before making her way to the back of the house where the bedrooms were.
Albert refused to hand over her suitcase, instead carrying it to one of the two bedrooms and setting it on the bed. He turned to look at her,
"Good night Marie. We'll talk more in the morning." He said softly and looked like he wanted to say more but instead excused himself to go to his room.
Marie's bedroom was quaint. It had a dresser, a set of nightstands, and a large bed. She quickly drew the curtains of her bedroom closed and changed into her nightgown, shedding her gloves and setting them on her suitcase. She let her hair down and combed her fingers through it, twisting the strands into a braid before laying down. She sat there in the dark for a moment, simply contemplating. She would finally get revenge on Lord Christie for what he did.
The question was, would she be able to do it?
…
September 1st, 1879
London, England, United Kingdom, Europe
The following day, Marie awoke with the sun. She sat up in bed and stretched before swinging her legs over the side and standing. Undoing her hair as she went, she swiftly twisted it up in a bun before dressing for the day. Her dress was a lovely emerald green with long sleeves. It was a simple dress for day-to-day activities, but she wouldn't need her ballgown until later that night.
When they would be attending the wedding of Matthew Christie to his new wife and murdering his father.
The very thought hurt her heart, but she knew it was for the best. Matthew was moving on. She already had, but some part of her heart still yearned for the life she had before. Part of her wondered if she had stayed and married Matthew, would she be happy? Or would she have been killed by Lord Christie?
Marie shook those thoughts from her head, left her bedroom, and headed towards the kitchen where she was already planning breakfast for the day. It was strange not making food for the entire Moriarty household. Nevertheless, she made breakfast in record time and plated it when the door to Albert's room opened, and he stepped out.
He was already dressed for the day, adjusting his vest with his suit coat over his arm as he entered the dining area.
"It smells lovely, Marie." He said with a smile, and she returned the smile with one of her own.
"I'm glad. Have a seat. I'll be in in a moment." She said, washing her hands in the sink and drying them. She was about to slip on her gloves when she stopped. He had already seen her hands before. Could she get away with not wearing them now? The gloves she had brought with her were stuffy and squeezed the joints in her hands as they were slightly too small.
She made up her mind and tucked the gloves into the pocket of her dress. Then she took her seat at the table across from Albert. He noticed immediately, eyes locking on her hands and then on her face.
"Your gloves…?" He asked hesitantly, and she looked down at her broken hands. Was he disgusted by them?
"They're uncomfortable and stuffy, and I'd really prefer not to wear them unless I have to. I can put them on if it makes you uncomfortable—" Albert shook his head with that gentle smile of his.
"No, no, you don't have to. I was just curious, is all. Thank you for trusting me to see them again." He said softly, reaching across the table to set his hand on hers. Marie fought the blush rising in her cheeks and looked away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Albert's smile turn a little smug, as if proud of making her embarrassed.
They finished breakfast in comfortable silence. Then, once the dishes were cleared and cleaned, with Marie washing and Albert drying, they sat at the table again to go over their plan.
It was simple, really. The Christie's had invited Albert and his brothers to the wedding of Matthew to his fiancée Albina Holloway. Albert and Marie were to attend with Marie acting as his partner and fellow noble Alice St. Clair. After infiltrating the ball, they needed to get Lord Christie alone without anyone noticing. Then Marie (or Albert) was to poison Lord Christie and escape after his death.
Simple.
Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?
…
The Christie manor was just as gaudy and elaborate as Marie remembered it. It was lit up in lanterns as the sun set, and the party was in full swing. She accepted Albert's hand out of the carriage and took his arm as he led her inside.
She tried her best to ignore the whispers that erupted when people noticed the unknown noblewoman on Albert Moriarty's arm. He leaned down until his lips nearly brushed her ear,
"Ignore them. They're just curious. They likely won't even remember you by the end of the night." He whispered, and she hid a rather very unladylike snort behind her cream-gloved hand.
"It's rather hard when everyone is boring holes into the back of my head." She whispered back, and Albert stifled a chuckle as she smoothed a hand down the front of her dress.
It was a deep bottle green and made of silks and taffeta. It had a small train trailing behind the dress and was an off-the-shoulder style with a scooping neckline. She had a string of pearls around her neck and white beads scattered throughout her hair in an elaborate updo to tie it all together.
Marie and Albert entered the ballroom and were announced by the butler. She didn't recognize him, but she spotted Buckley strolling the room's perimeter and quickly ducked her head. Fortunately, his eyes glanced right over her. She realized he likely wouldn't recognize her after eight years; he had never paid much attention to her anyway. That was good, at least.
Marie and Albert got in line to greet the newlywed bride and groom, the music in full swing. Marie could see Matthew from here, smiling a fake smile, his arm around a woman dressed in all white with brunette hair intricately styled with white roses. She had pretty brown eyes and looked like an angel, dressed in all white like that. Marie found herself wondering about what her own wedding would be like—if she ever had one.
Who would she marry?
Who would walk her down the aisle?
Would she have anyone there to represent her family?
She found her eyes straying to the side where Albert stood, talking to a nobleman who had stopped by. Abruptly, Marie blinked and realized it was nearly their turn to greet Matthew and his new wife. Where had all these thoughts of weddings come from? With a subtle shake of her head, she plastered a smile on her face as it became their turn to greet the newlywed Christie's.
Matthew's eyes locked on her immediately as she curtsied. She could see the pain in his face as he recognized just who it was that was greeting him and his new wife. However, he didn't make a fuss and instead nodded his head in thanks as Albert extended a hand. The men shook hands, and the woman next to Matthew grasped both of Marie's hands in her own.
"Thank you so much for coming, Ms…."
"Alice, Alice St. Clair. It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Christie!" She said, and the woman blushed, cupping her cheeks,
"It's so lovely to be called that now. I can't believe the day is finally here! But please, just call me Albina." She squealed, and Marie smiled. She appeared like a nice enough woman. She seemed good for Matthew.
Albert and Marie moved on and allowed the next couple to greet the bride and groom. They entered the dance floor and began to dance. It was a slow waltz. Albert's hand was firm at her waist, but his other held her hand gently. Marie glanced to the side and caught Matthew's eye; he looked hurt as his eyes watched back. With a shake of her head, she turned around and looked at Albert with a smile that felt a little forced. That part of her life was over now. She shouldn't dwell on it.
Albert leaned down until his mouth brushed her ear. Marie had to hide a shiver at the feeling,
"Lord Christie is entering the room. I want you to sneak into his study and wait there until I arrive with him. Then we'll put the plan into action." He whispered, and she nodded. To everyone else, they just looked like a couple whispering sweet nothings to each other. No one would guess that they were plotting a murder.
The two left the dance floor, and Marie snuck out of the ballroom and down the hall as Albert approached Lord Christie with a drink and conversation. It was eerie, creeping down the hallway of a place she hadn't been in eight years. Then, just as she turned the corner, a hand clamped down on her wrist and spun her around.
Lady Christie stood before her, eyes narrow and mouth tight in a frown. However, the longer she looked at Marie's face, the more relaxed her face became.
"E-Edith?" She whispered, and Marie slowly nodded, unsure of where this was going. Would she make a fuss and draw attention to Marie? Instead, Marie was pulled into a tight hug that made her hands ache as they were trapped between the two women.
"I thought you dead! You disappeared one day, and Victor never said what happened to you!" The older woman whispered and held her tighter. Marie squeaked at the pressure but wiggled her hands free and returned the hug nonetheless. It felt nice; she couldn't remember the last time she had a hug.
"What happened to you? Are you a noblewoman now? Did you marry into nobility?" Lady Christie demanded, pulling back and setting her hands on her shoulders. Marie pursed her lips and debated over telling Lady Christie just what she was doing here. Then she remembered,
Lord Christie was still talking as Marie panicked.
"And if you don't stop talking to him? You'll be thrown out into the streets with not a coin to your name." He finished and sat back in his seat, taking his newly filled wine glass from Buckley. Lady Christie spoke up, hands clasped together and held close to her body,
"Surely not Victor! She's a wonderful employee-"
"SHUT UP!" He bellowed, and Marie and Lady Christie both flinched. Lady Christie's hand came up to unconsciously shield her face. Lord Christie waved a hand and dismissed her,
"Now leave, back to work. And don't forget what I said."
Lord Christie abused Lady Christie. Surely she would be alright telling her what was going on, right? Marie trusted Lady Christie.
She opened her mouth and explained everything—from her hands being broken to meeting the Moriarty's to poisoning people all across London. She didn't hold anything back. She even explained why she was there and the plan to murder Lord Christie. As soon as she was done, she shut her mouth and watched. Lady Christie's face was dark; she stared at Marie's hands in anger.
"Do what you need to do. But, please. Rid this world of that monster." She whispered pleadingly, holding Marie's hands in her own. Marie nodded once; she would, she swore it. It was then that they heard another voice.
"Mother?"
Matthew.
He stood at the end of the hallway, just outside Lord Christie's study, Albina's arm in his. They looked at the two other women in confusion, and Lady Christie pulled away from Marie to face her son.
"Matthew! What are you doing here? You should be dancing with Albina!" She said with a large smile on her face. Matthew shrugged, but Albina spoke up,
"I was getting a bit crowded with all the people in there, so I asked Matthew to show me around the manor. What are you doing here with Ms. St. Clair?" She asked, and Marie chewed on the inside of her cheek. How was she going to get them away from the study?
Lady Christie seemed to understand the situation and stepped in front of Marie.
"We were just talking about the architecture. Now come, this is just the hall with my husband's study. How about you take her to the gardens, Matthew? They're beautiful this time of year." She said, ushering the newlywed couple down the hall and away from Marie. Matthew and Albina looked back once and caught Marie's gaze.
Then they were gone
Marie stood in the hallway for a moment and sighed. That was close.
Then she heard voices behind her. She recognized both of them. It was Albert and Lord Christie. She cursed and hurried inside the study, shutting the door silently behind her.
It was strange. Being back in this study. Marie spotted the exact same peacock statuette on Lord Christie's desk, clean of blood and screams. The fireplace was already crackling and popping with a large fire that warmed the entire room. Marie stood behind the desk and shed her gloves, tucking them underneath one arm as she warmed her aching hands by the fire, waiting for Albert and Lord Christie to arrive.
They arrived, with Lord Christie laughing boisterously at something Albert said, and Albert had a tight smile on his face. But all laughter stopped when Lord Christie noticed Marie. His face immediately turned into a scowl,
"Who are you? How did you get in here?" He demanded and didn't notice Albert locking the door behind him and drawing a knife. Marie didn't say anything, just stepped, so the fire illuminated her face.
Lord Christie recoiled as if he had been struck across the face. He stumbled back a step and into Albert, who stood as firm as an oak tree. He caught the short and portly man and kept him upright with a firm grip on his shoulders. He sputtered and looked back at Albert, who was smiling that same tight smile at him.
"Edith?! What— what are you doing here? I told you to leave and never come back!" He shouted, and Marie stepped closer,
"But I'm here now, aren't I?" Was all she said, and Albert gave a single nod to Marie. She nodded back and reached back underneath the fabric of her bustle, and pulled out the vial of arsenic she had hidden there.
Albert held tightly onto Lord Christie's pudgy shoulders as Marie drew closer and uncorked the stopper. His eyes were locked on the vial cradled in her broken hands. Hands he had broken himself.
"What is that? What are you planning on doing to me?!" Lord Christie demanded, and Marie bit back a laugh.
"It's arsenic. I presume you know what arsenic does?" His eyes widened, and he began to struggle even more,
"Keep that away from me!" He bellowed in a panic.
However, just as Marie reached him, his foot shot out, quick as a gunshot, and caught Marie's right kneecap. She cried out and dropped the vial, collapsing to her knees as the pain made them buckle.
The vial spilled all over the floor and shattered under Lord Christie's foot in his struggle. Albert let go of him to rush to Marie's side, helping her to her feet.
Lord Christie raced to the door and fumbled with getting the lock open. Marie put a hand on Albert's arm, holding tightly as she pointed,
"He's getting away!" She hissed, and Albert's face set in a firm frown. He withdrew something from the inside of his coat and threw it.
A long-bladed knife sunk into Lord Christie's back blade first with a solid 'thunk,' and he collapsed against the door. Albert turned and helped Marie to her feet, cradling her forearms in his palms as he made sure she had her balance.
"Are you alright?" He asked quietly, and she nodded shakily.
"I am. When did you bring a knife?" She asked, and he shrugged,
"It seemed fitting to have a Plan B in case the poisoning didn't go well. Looks like my assumptions were correct." He replied matter of factly and let go of Marie's arms when he was positive she wouldn't collapse again.
Her knee throbbed, and she was sure there was going to be a bruise by the time they made it back to the house. But she couldn't care less about it. Lord Christie was dead.
…
Now came the part about sneaking out of the mansion without getting noticed. Marie was noticeably limping, and Albert had to keep a hand around her waist to avoid falling over. She quickly slipped on her gloves and flexed her fingers, nodding to Albert to get going.
"We'll take a better look at it when we get home," Albert assured her as he helped her down the hallway. They had left the body in the study for someone to discover. They couldn't take it with them, and they had no way to dispose of the body itself.
The hallway was silent as Marie focused on not falling over. Her knee hurt terribly. It felt swollen already.
"I'm sorry for not being able to kill him." She said softly, and Albert let out a quiet laugh, tightening his grip on her waist as she tried to walk as normally as possible. To everyone else, they looked like a couple enjoying a stroll through the manor instead of him helping her walk.
"It couldn't be helped." Was all he said.
The ballroom was still alive with the sound of music and chatter when they got back to it. Marie could see Albina and Matthew back to dancing, looking happy as they twirled and danced to the waltz. Lady Christie was talking to some noblewomen and nodded at Marie and Albert as they passed.
Getting to the carriage was easy enough, with minimal stops by other nobles. Marie needed help getting into the carriage, but once she was settled, they were off. She slumped back the best she could in her corset and closed her eyes.
It was over.
Lord Christie was finally dead.
"Marie? Are you alright?" Albert asked as their carriage rattled along the dark streets of London. She opened her eyes and frowned,
"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" She asked, and Albert frowned himself,
"You're crying." He said softly, and she brought a hand up to her face. It was wet.
Tears streaked her cheeks, and that was when the dam burst. It felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest and shoulders. She faintly heard Albert move, so he was sitting next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she cried.
He was dead.
Finally dead.
So why was she crying?
As she broke down and sobbed, burying her face in her broken hands, Marie came to a conclusion.
She was crying because she was free. Free from her tormentor who had ruined her life. She had built a new one with a new family, and she was finally free.
