In the last chapter a body had just been discovered by Merri and
Maeve, her new servant. Again the usual disclaimers.... so on and so
forth... grumbles to self like anyone would ever pay me for this
dribble.... smiles at empty room anyhow... on with the story...
Count Cain burst through the doors to the police station, brimming with worry for his half sister. He had gotten just barely inside when he was tackled by the very same person he was most anxious to see. Merriwhether began to sob softly into her brothers coat. She had been holding back the tears, trying to remain brave, especially since Maeve was so collected. But at the sight of her brother, with such an expression of worry on his face she lost hold of the last threads of reserve that she had clung so desperately onto. Maeve took in the scene with what seemed to be an face void of expression, but if one cared enough to look into her eyes, they would see them brimming with concern for the girl who was in her charge. Murder and savagery was nothing new to Cain, Riff or Maeve, but it was obviously something that Merriwhether had yet to cope with. Not that she should have to, for no one should have to cope with pain and death. Cain sat upon one of the chairs in the sparsely furnished station. He pulled his sister unto his lap, as he had seen women do with their children. Cain hugged his sister, desperately trying to think of someway to comfort her. He had never received comfort form anyone, other than the wordless comfort Riff provided him when he was a child.
He felt a hand upon his shoulder. "Master Cain?" a quite voice asked, after a few moments.
Cain looked up at Riff, bewilderment deeply embedded in his golden- green eyes. Riff simply nodded towards Merriwhether. Cain followed his servants gaze and noticed that not only had her sods subsided, but her breathing had evened out, thus meaning she was asleep. It turned out words were not needed after all.
"Shall I take her home?"
Cain shook his head. "Take her to the carriage, I will only be a short while."
"If you want to do any sort of investigation, I know all the information pertaining to the case that they have uncovered so far." Cain and Riff looked towards the unexpected source of information. Maeve simply stared back. Cain looked at Riff and then at his sister.
"Let us leave."
They slowly filed out of the station, Riff leading them to where the carriage was, Cain carrying his sister and Maeve bringing up the rear. A shadow seemed to hover over this morse party, one that had only half an hour earlier been so full of light and joy.
They left, atmosphere thick with tangible tension. Cain made sure Merriwhether was still sleeping, and even debating silently wether or not to give her some sleeping poison (his carriage was well stocked with vials of most of his different poisons). Riff saw the look upon his masters face and was glad when he turned to address Maeve. Riff knew him well enough to know what he was deliberating, and he had a feeling Merriwhether wold not take kindly to being drugged, for whatever the reason. "You claimed that you knew the details of the case." Cain began, trailing off so that Maeve would pick up.
"Aye, I was busy trying comforting Miss Merri, though she tried dreadful hard not to show her being upset and all, when I over heard what the detectives were saying. The victims name was Felicity Douglas, the middle daughter of a well known tailor, for the middle class that is," she added, noting the black look that graced Cains features. "Her heart was removed, but they think this was postmortem, seeing how little blood there was on her compared to what there should have been. She was stabbed in the throat, in her windpipe and they are saying that is the cause of death."
"They believe that she was dead before her heart was removed?" Cain asked, processing possible motives through his brain.
"Aye."
"Well that would rule out organ harvesting, for they would only take the heart if it was still beating."
Maeve shrank back in shock "You mean people take others body parts? As their own?"
Cain nodded. "Such transplants have only been attempted, none have been successful, especially those in regard to vital organs such as heart, lungs and brain."
Maeve simply stared at him as if he was from an insane asylum.
Cain continued undaunted by her stare, "Such things will never be able to occur, but that would not necessarily stop one who is so desperate. There are sick people, driven by greed, who will plant into the mind of a weak person, who is dwelling in their grief, that such things can occur. They will, of course, ask for money before the procedure, reiterating that there is no guarantee of success. But since they killed the girl first this could only be a serial murder."
Maeve squirmed slightly, trying to remain as professional as Mister Riff. She hated all these horrid murders that had been taking place of the late. She found it quite disturbing how Master Cain could talk so unemotionally about them. She had heard many of the rumors that surrounded the Hargreaves family. She had expected the family to be strange, for what could one expect from a boy who collected poisons? And who seemed to be involved in so many crimes? And the young Mistress had been a girl from the streets, such as her. But she had not expected them to be this strange. She sighed inwardly, what could she expect, after all they had hired an abnormality such as herself almost as soon as Merriwhether had spoken to her. She turned her thoughts elsewhere, for talk of murder awakened an unpleasant stirring within her.
Cain continued to talk to himself, noticing that the maid had lost interest in the conversation. Pity. It would have been nice to have someone to discuss such things with. For Riff would listen, and perhaps input some of his medical knowledge, such as it was, but he would never participate in such a discussion because he enjoyed, merely because he was the only one whom Cain talked to on a regular basis. He quieted himself as his thoughts turned to other, more personal matters. He had ascertained that Riff did feel something for him, although how deep those feelings maybe only Riff himself knew. That led Cain to the question, what were his feeling for the stoic man. He knew he had deep affection for him, but did that mean he, dare he say it, loved him? Or was his level of affection developed more for Riff was the only person who had stuck by his side all this time. He was the only one who could touch his scars. Cain turned his head to look out at the window, watching the passing city without really seeing anything. Was he turning to Riff because of security? Or were these feeling sincere? Cain closed his eyes, trying to see when his feelings towards the man may have evolved to such a state. He truthfully could not remember a time he felt any different for Riff. He sighed, for of all times to begin fretting like a girl over Riff he had to chose right when it seemed that another serial murderer was about to emerge.
The carriage bumped and lurched as it continued through the streets. It was a handsome carriage with team of four horses of midnight black. Just looking at the carriage would inform anyone that this was one of breeding and taste. The coach man and foot man were handsome looking fellows in smart suits with such static looks that one could suppose them to be made of stone, so little did their expression alter as the carriage bounced along the cobblestone streets of London. The crowds thinned and the houses were less dreary as the coach neared it's destination.
The coach slowed to a stop outside the vast grounds of the Hargreaves estate. Upon reaching the entrance Riff opened the door and leapt out. The young steward held forth his arms to take the still slumbering package as the new maid nimbly leapt to the ground. Riff looked at his master, still within the coach. Maeve couldn't help but wonder what silent communication was taking place just then, but she had a feeling she was only catching a glimpse of just how deep the bond between them was. Riff turned away and began walking toward the enormous doors of the mansion, trying not to jostle the youngest Hargreaves as he went. Knowing better than to ask, Maeve silently followed him, wondering why the Master had yet to move from his seat.
Once inside Merris' room, Riff laid the child upon her bed. He turned to Maeve and spoke in a hushed tone, so as not to awaken her. "The Master and I will return shortly. He asks that you not leave her side for the duration of the time he is gone. He also requests that you not discuss the events of this afternoon with anyone at all. I will leave instructions that you are not to be bothered. You may ring that bell if Merri or you require anything." Maeve nodded her head absently, her eyes not leaving the troubled girl. With a half bow and a sharp turn Riff was gone. Silence reigned in a room that resembled more of a toy shop that the dwellings of a child.
"Master Cain, might I inquire where we are headed and for what purpose?" Riff asked in his quiet voice as he joined his master once agin in the coach.
"To do a little investigation of our own." was all he was graced with for a reply.
Cain involuntarily closed his cursed eyes and shuddered upon hearing the crack of the whip as the coach jolted forward. Suddenly he felt warmth encase him and he reflexively stiffened. He opened his eyes only to find Riff silently hugging him, offering a comfort beyond words. He sighed as he relaxed into the embrace, even reciprocating it. Perhaps today would not be as bad as it seemed.
The coach driver urged the coach on with a click of his tongue as it proceeded to the address given to him by the young count.
Note: Albinos have pink eyes due to the blood veins in their eyes. I said red cause it suits the story more. If I have offended anyone I'm deeply sorry. Also if anything seems to modern for this period in history I'm sorry as well, for I am not well learned in the Victorian Era in England. And thank you to all those who reviewed and sorry for it being so late.
Count Cain burst through the doors to the police station, brimming with worry for his half sister. He had gotten just barely inside when he was tackled by the very same person he was most anxious to see. Merriwhether began to sob softly into her brothers coat. She had been holding back the tears, trying to remain brave, especially since Maeve was so collected. But at the sight of her brother, with such an expression of worry on his face she lost hold of the last threads of reserve that she had clung so desperately onto. Maeve took in the scene with what seemed to be an face void of expression, but if one cared enough to look into her eyes, they would see them brimming with concern for the girl who was in her charge. Murder and savagery was nothing new to Cain, Riff or Maeve, but it was obviously something that Merriwhether had yet to cope with. Not that she should have to, for no one should have to cope with pain and death. Cain sat upon one of the chairs in the sparsely furnished station. He pulled his sister unto his lap, as he had seen women do with their children. Cain hugged his sister, desperately trying to think of someway to comfort her. He had never received comfort form anyone, other than the wordless comfort Riff provided him when he was a child.
He felt a hand upon his shoulder. "Master Cain?" a quite voice asked, after a few moments.
Cain looked up at Riff, bewilderment deeply embedded in his golden- green eyes. Riff simply nodded towards Merriwhether. Cain followed his servants gaze and noticed that not only had her sods subsided, but her breathing had evened out, thus meaning she was asleep. It turned out words were not needed after all.
"Shall I take her home?"
Cain shook his head. "Take her to the carriage, I will only be a short while."
"If you want to do any sort of investigation, I know all the information pertaining to the case that they have uncovered so far." Cain and Riff looked towards the unexpected source of information. Maeve simply stared back. Cain looked at Riff and then at his sister.
"Let us leave."
They slowly filed out of the station, Riff leading them to where the carriage was, Cain carrying his sister and Maeve bringing up the rear. A shadow seemed to hover over this morse party, one that had only half an hour earlier been so full of light and joy.
They left, atmosphere thick with tangible tension. Cain made sure Merriwhether was still sleeping, and even debating silently wether or not to give her some sleeping poison (his carriage was well stocked with vials of most of his different poisons). Riff saw the look upon his masters face and was glad when he turned to address Maeve. Riff knew him well enough to know what he was deliberating, and he had a feeling Merriwhether wold not take kindly to being drugged, for whatever the reason. "You claimed that you knew the details of the case." Cain began, trailing off so that Maeve would pick up.
"Aye, I was busy trying comforting Miss Merri, though she tried dreadful hard not to show her being upset and all, when I over heard what the detectives were saying. The victims name was Felicity Douglas, the middle daughter of a well known tailor, for the middle class that is," she added, noting the black look that graced Cains features. "Her heart was removed, but they think this was postmortem, seeing how little blood there was on her compared to what there should have been. She was stabbed in the throat, in her windpipe and they are saying that is the cause of death."
"They believe that she was dead before her heart was removed?" Cain asked, processing possible motives through his brain.
"Aye."
"Well that would rule out organ harvesting, for they would only take the heart if it was still beating."
Maeve shrank back in shock "You mean people take others body parts? As their own?"
Cain nodded. "Such transplants have only been attempted, none have been successful, especially those in regard to vital organs such as heart, lungs and brain."
Maeve simply stared at him as if he was from an insane asylum.
Cain continued undaunted by her stare, "Such things will never be able to occur, but that would not necessarily stop one who is so desperate. There are sick people, driven by greed, who will plant into the mind of a weak person, who is dwelling in their grief, that such things can occur. They will, of course, ask for money before the procedure, reiterating that there is no guarantee of success. But since they killed the girl first this could only be a serial murder."
Maeve squirmed slightly, trying to remain as professional as Mister Riff. She hated all these horrid murders that had been taking place of the late. She found it quite disturbing how Master Cain could talk so unemotionally about them. She had heard many of the rumors that surrounded the Hargreaves family. She had expected the family to be strange, for what could one expect from a boy who collected poisons? And who seemed to be involved in so many crimes? And the young Mistress had been a girl from the streets, such as her. But she had not expected them to be this strange. She sighed inwardly, what could she expect, after all they had hired an abnormality such as herself almost as soon as Merriwhether had spoken to her. She turned her thoughts elsewhere, for talk of murder awakened an unpleasant stirring within her.
Cain continued to talk to himself, noticing that the maid had lost interest in the conversation. Pity. It would have been nice to have someone to discuss such things with. For Riff would listen, and perhaps input some of his medical knowledge, such as it was, but he would never participate in such a discussion because he enjoyed, merely because he was the only one whom Cain talked to on a regular basis. He quieted himself as his thoughts turned to other, more personal matters. He had ascertained that Riff did feel something for him, although how deep those feelings maybe only Riff himself knew. That led Cain to the question, what were his feeling for the stoic man. He knew he had deep affection for him, but did that mean he, dare he say it, loved him? Or was his level of affection developed more for Riff was the only person who had stuck by his side all this time. He was the only one who could touch his scars. Cain turned his head to look out at the window, watching the passing city without really seeing anything. Was he turning to Riff because of security? Or were these feeling sincere? Cain closed his eyes, trying to see when his feelings towards the man may have evolved to such a state. He truthfully could not remember a time he felt any different for Riff. He sighed, for of all times to begin fretting like a girl over Riff he had to chose right when it seemed that another serial murderer was about to emerge.
The carriage bumped and lurched as it continued through the streets. It was a handsome carriage with team of four horses of midnight black. Just looking at the carriage would inform anyone that this was one of breeding and taste. The coach man and foot man were handsome looking fellows in smart suits with such static looks that one could suppose them to be made of stone, so little did their expression alter as the carriage bounced along the cobblestone streets of London. The crowds thinned and the houses were less dreary as the coach neared it's destination.
The coach slowed to a stop outside the vast grounds of the Hargreaves estate. Upon reaching the entrance Riff opened the door and leapt out. The young steward held forth his arms to take the still slumbering package as the new maid nimbly leapt to the ground. Riff looked at his master, still within the coach. Maeve couldn't help but wonder what silent communication was taking place just then, but she had a feeling she was only catching a glimpse of just how deep the bond between them was. Riff turned away and began walking toward the enormous doors of the mansion, trying not to jostle the youngest Hargreaves as he went. Knowing better than to ask, Maeve silently followed him, wondering why the Master had yet to move from his seat.
Once inside Merris' room, Riff laid the child upon her bed. He turned to Maeve and spoke in a hushed tone, so as not to awaken her. "The Master and I will return shortly. He asks that you not leave her side for the duration of the time he is gone. He also requests that you not discuss the events of this afternoon with anyone at all. I will leave instructions that you are not to be bothered. You may ring that bell if Merri or you require anything." Maeve nodded her head absently, her eyes not leaving the troubled girl. With a half bow and a sharp turn Riff was gone. Silence reigned in a room that resembled more of a toy shop that the dwellings of a child.
"Master Cain, might I inquire where we are headed and for what purpose?" Riff asked in his quiet voice as he joined his master once agin in the coach.
"To do a little investigation of our own." was all he was graced with for a reply.
Cain involuntarily closed his cursed eyes and shuddered upon hearing the crack of the whip as the coach jolted forward. Suddenly he felt warmth encase him and he reflexively stiffened. He opened his eyes only to find Riff silently hugging him, offering a comfort beyond words. He sighed as he relaxed into the embrace, even reciprocating it. Perhaps today would not be as bad as it seemed.
The coach driver urged the coach on with a click of his tongue as it proceeded to the address given to him by the young count.
Note: Albinos have pink eyes due to the blood veins in their eyes. I said red cause it suits the story more. If I have offended anyone I'm deeply sorry. Also if anything seems to modern for this period in history I'm sorry as well, for I am not well learned in the Victorian Era in England. And thank you to all those who reviewed and sorry for it being so late.