Chapter 1

-December 14, 1900-

Prosecutor's Office

Lord Barok van Zieks had just finished taking afternoon tea when a telegraph office liaison entered his office. After a quiet discussion with Asogi, who had been kneeling at his low desk by the door, his apprentice took the missive that had arrived and approached him.

"A message for you from the Great Waterloo Hotel, My Lord. It's from Professor Harebrayne."

Ah. He has arrived, then.

Barok had written to Albert towards the end of November, inviting him back to London after his hurried departure following the Asman murder case. For one, he still recalled his old friend prattling on about wanting to "catch up" in the Old Bailey's Defendants' Antechamber just before he had told him in no uncertain terms that he would have to return to Germany immediately, lest he become another victim of the Reaper. And for another… after the truth about the Professor case and the extrajudicial killings over the last decade had come to light and Mael Stronghart's public trial had commenced, he had been beleaguered by journalists at what had felt like every waking moment, but now that the odious interest in his person had finally calmed down once more, he supposed he had felt the urge to see a friendly face.

Taking the folded paper from Asogi, Barok read the short telegram, only for a sigh to escape him the moment he had reached the end.

"Asogi, I will have to take my leave for an hour or so. Remain here until I return."

"Yes, My Lord." His apprentice bowed and returned to his desk, while Barok reached for his cloak and headed out of the building to hail a hansom cab.

Trust Albert to need rescuing the moment he returns. At least this time, the matter was unlikely to involve criminal charges.

Within less than five minutes, he was en route to the hotel. Leaning back as the small two-seater carriage pulled away from the curb, he allowed himself to recall the beginning of their friendship, which had likewise begun with Albert requiring someone to rescue him.


-October 21, 1887-

London University

After his regular seminars for the day had concluded, Barok had ventured over to the natural sciences faculty, as he was attempting to prepare an argument for a hypothetical case set in a laboratory – he and his peers had been permitted access to a "crime scene" prepared specifically for them, but not any guidance as to the various substances and experiment constellations the professor and his assistants had set up for the students. Something had told him that disregarding these items as mere props to enhance verisimilitude would be a mistake, and so he had decided to see if he could identify and assign a purpose to them.

He had just departed from the library with a few promising volumes in his book bag when he had noticed some sort of uproar nearby. Turning toward the noise, he had spotted a few of the more cretinous specimens from his law courses taunting and harassing someone clearly belonging to this faculty – a lanky young man with a wild mop of blond curls on his head, wearing a white lab coat and carrying a veritable mountain of books.

Barok had only taken a few steps toward the scene when said mountain had begun to sway dangerously; unfortunately, he had been too late to aid the budding scientist, who had fallen backwards, the books raining down on him as he had shielded his face from the worst onslaught. Meanwhile, his fellow law students, all of them noble or of landed gentry, had laughed raucously and kicked a few of the volumes around on the ground.

"Ah, van Zieks – decided to join us for a spot of boffin hunting today?" the leader of the small group had called out the moment he had noticed Barok, only for his face to be met with the now-empty finger sheaths of a glove in the old gesture of a dueling challenge.

"You. Me. Half an hour from now, over at the law faculty. Now get out of here."

Apparently, his disgusted tone had clued the gaggle of fools in on the fact that he had not been joking – they had left quickly while muttering an assortment of threats and obscenities among themselves.

The moment they had been out of sight, Barok had knelt to aid the lanky student in collecting his books, asking quietly, "Are you injured anywhere?"

To his surprise, the scientist-in-training had laughed and scratched the back of his head inbetween stacking the various volumes up in a neat pile. "No, I'm fine, thank you – this isn't the first time this happened…"

Frowning, he had replied, "In that case, I should see if I can impress on them that it better be the last time…"

The bushy-haired young man's face had fallen. "Wait – you're actually going to fight these fellows? You don't have to do that, I'm sure they'll get bored of this sooner or later…"

"In fact, I believe I do. Beleaguering others just for the fun of it is a disgrace to those of us who are aware of the principles of noblesse oblige."


Huffing in amusement at the memories, Barok noticed that his cab would soon arrive at his destination.

He had in fact dueled the ringleader of the noble hecklers thereafter – while the law faculty had not allowed for any such physical confrontations to end in serious injuries or worse during their student days, settling grievances with the sword had still been an acceptable, if already archaic, measure at the time. He had ended up with a shallow but wide cut running from his shoulder to the middle of his bicep, which had required a few stitches, but he had ultimately emerged victorious, disarming his fellow law student after methodically ruining the man's fancy attire with his saber. It had been well worth the pain and effort, even though it had taken him a while to convince an incessantly apologetic Albert that he bore no blame for what had happened.

Thereafter, he had made a habit of occasionally visiting the natural sciences faculty during break periods to ensure no other callow aristocrats had decided to turn harassing commoner students there into a sport. This had led to more impromptu meetings with Albert Harebrayne, which in turn had led to shared luncheons and extended opportunities for conversation. Before long, Barok had realized that he had inadvertently found himself a friendly acquaintance who had been completely unlike him – a commoner from a family of relatively humble standing, who had attended the university on a merit scholarship and was frightfully at home with the most esoteric-looking, pages-long mathematical proofs.

Unbidden, a memory of Klint's words after first meeting Albert came to mind; he had laughed and said, "Well, I'm sure you two have something in common, or you wouldn't get along so well – I mean, look at me and Genshin."

Klint… Any stray thought of his deceased older brother still conjured up echoes of the pain of learning the truth about him in that trial last month, the truth that he had let his sense of justice goad him into acts which had ultimately destroyed him.

Sighing, Barok did his best to banish the recurring mental images from his mind as the hansom cab slowed near the entrance of the Great Waterloo Hotel – while he knew that he would likely have to share some of the details that had come to light about the Professor case with Albert, as he doubted that news of it had been featured in the German press and his friend was sure to wonder just why he had suddenly changed his mind about meeting to reminisce, he would prefer to deal with the man's current emergency before attending to that maudlin matter.

After paying the cabbie and entering the establishment, he quickly located his friend standing near the reception desk, nervously chewing on his thumbnail.

"Albert, welcome back to London. What seems to be the problem?"

"Barok! You came!" Even while turning toward him, Albert lowered his head, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "I… I made a stupid mistake, I shouldn't have booked a room here via telegram without asking for the rates first…"

Ah, of course.

"Apologies – perhaps I should have secured a room for you in anticipation of your arrival instead of leaving you to fend for yourself. After all, prior to the unfortunate week in October, you hadn't been in the country for a number of years. I will take care of the bill."

Predictably, Albert's gaze immediately shot up at that and he waved his hands in an emphatic gesture of denial. "But I can't accept that… you shouldn't have to pay when I was the one who bungled this –"

Unable to suppress a snort, Barok interrupted him. "Don't be ridiculous. I invited you, and I sincerely doubt that your stay here will manage to drain my coffers. Consider it repayment for the unpleasantness to which I had to subject you the last time you were here."

"If, if you're sure…"

"I am." With those words, Barok approached the reception desk and proceeded to settle his friend's account.

Once the matter had been taken care of and Albert's room had been paid for a few days in advance so he would not have to waste any time on trying to find another place to stay, Barok turned back toward his friend, who promptly scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed grin.

"Thank you… I promise that's the last time I make a mess of things this way!"

"Don't mention it." And if it happens again, it wouldn't be the end of the world, either. "Now… when have you eaten last?"

Barok knew his conjecture in regard to Albert's priorities had been correct when the other man flinched slightly. "Erm… I had a light breakfast on the boat from Dunkirk to Dover…?"

At that, he could not help shaking his head slightly. "In that case, perhaps a somewhat more substantial early dinner is in order before I leave you to rest until tomorrow. Wait here for a moment."

Turning away from his friend before he had a chance to protest, Barok followed the signage on the walls to the hotel's courtesy telegraph counter and dictated a quick missive to Asogi, letting him know that he was welcome to lock up and leave the office for the day.

When he returned to Albert's side, he let his gaze roam the unfamiliar venue, admittedly relieved when it fell on a wide archway with a sign posted in front of it – the hotel restaurant, and it seemed that it was already open for dinnertime, even though it was likely not too beset by diners yet.

Excellent. A glance toward the glass entrance doors told him that dusk was beginning to fall already, and while attacks on his person had recently waned, he would rather not escort his friend around in the dark and potentially expose him to violent ambushes on his first evening back in London.

"Come along."

To his credit, Albert did not try to dissuade him, instead simply falling into step as Barok approached the restaurant. After a few polite-yet-terse instructions to the host, they were seated at a small table in an out-of-the-way corner, far away from the few other patrons already present.

His friend was quiet once they had placed their order, his expression indicating that he was lost in thought – a rarity for Albert when in the company of others.

Perhaps he is simply fatigued.

The silence, interspersed with the odd glance at Barok's face before the other man once again appeared to attempt staring a hole into the tablecloth, lasted until their food and beverages had arrived. Only after the waiter had left did Albert raise his voice once more.

"So, erm… how have you been? Since you wrote to me that 'everything is settled,' I assume that you've managed to figure out who this 'Reaper' person you were so worried about was…?"

Barok only barely managed to keep from grimacing – his friend might be largely oblivious to local current events, but he was hardly incapable of putting one and one together.

"Yes… although doing so brought a number of other unpleasant truths to light, and…"

At that point, he found himself unable to look at Albert anymore. "I'm not certain if I should burden you with the entire tale when you've only just arrived. It will take quite some time to tell, and… it might cause you to see me in a very different light."

Silence fell again for multiple seconds as he waited for an answer. Then, his friend nervously cleared his throat.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to… but if you do… I don't have to get up early tomorrow morning, and I'm really not all that tired yet, so…"

Albert's awkward offer of lending him an ear caused Barok to sigh deeply.

I hope you won't be too disappointed in me when you hear about my lapses in judgment.

"In that case," he slowly stated aloud, "I shall have to begin with the case that set me on my current course in life a decade ago, just after you left for Germany, as it turned out to be closely related to the Reaper's true identity…"

By the time he had finally related the whole sordid affair to Albert, he was glad that he had eased his old friend into the topic slowly, as, by the time he had arrived at his own arrest for murder a month and a half ago, his conversation partner had apparently forgotten to finish his meal, instead listening raptly to his every word. Furthermore, the restaurant had not turned into a complete bustle of activity so far – considering that he had been beleaguered for his opinions on these matters for most of November already, he did not relish the thought of a journalist out for gossip potentially having overheard him.

Thanking his stars for those small favors, he fell silent, studying the other man across the table.

It seemed to take Albert a few moments to register that he had stopped speaking, his expression aghast.

When his friend finally found his voice again, it emerged in a disbelieving half-whisper.

"I can't believe you've had to go through all this, and I barely had any idea…"

Unbelievably, he then lowered his gaze as if he was the one obliged to feel shame for what had occurred.

"A fine friend I am… I didn't even realize that this 'Professor' killer who came up in my trial was the one who was suspected of murdering Klint…"

At that, Barok firmly shook his head. "I didn't want to burden you with this at the time, as little of it as we had. When I accompanied you to Dover, I was still attempting to make my own peace with the fact that the Professor had played a role in the proceedings, and…"

He refocused his own gaze on the table surface. "… And perhaps it was for the best that you didn't know even the publicly-available purported details of the case ten years ago before the full truth was revealed. As I mentioned, it was difficult for me to extend trust to anyone with whom I was in regular contact… and while I regret that we didn't correspond much during your time in Germany, I consider myself fortunate that I never came to distrust you."

"Barok…"

Albert's tone made him look up once more, now finding a saddened smile on his friend's face.

"Thank you for telling me all this, and… I'm glad, too. That we're still friends, I mean."

Oh Albert. Could it be that his friend had been concerned that he would be sent away again?

He all but automatically felt the corners of his own lips quirking up ever so slightly.

"That we are. Now… I should probably leave you in peace for the night after occupying so much time with maudlin memories. Since my presence won't be required at the office tomorrow… would you like me to call on you in the early afternoon hours to show you around as promised?"

Albert's smile immediately brightened into one of enthusiasm. "Yes, I'd like that."

"Then it's settled. Expect me to wait for you in the lobby at around 1 PM."

Soon thereafter, once Barok had paid for their meals, he departed from the hotel, strangely more at peace with last month's tumult even after having relived all of it in his mind while telling his friend.

Where to take him first…?