Chapter 2 – Pretty Clever (Part Two) (Late June 1881)
The Ape who calls itself 'Captain Simundson' glares at 'Private Taylor,' and then turns back to me, his face smoothing out. "If you are interested in the Tournament, Madame, Sergeant Parker or I would be better guides this… American. He's hardly an expert on The British Army!"
"Are they like this all the time?" Jenny whispers to the third Ape, who has identified itself as 'Sergeant Parker.'
"Yes, yes they are," Parker sighs. "Often I think the Colonel; that's our club president, Colonel Lethbridge you see; I think he lets them both stay just for the 'Punch and Judy' show they do whenever they meet."
Ignoring the others, Simundson offers me his elbow. I hesitate a moment, but remember seeing Apes strolling like this. I rise and take it with a light touch of my hand. I dislike touching most Apes, or being too close to them, but I will bear it this once if we can gain more clues.
"Your offer of information is quite welcome…um… Captain Simundson," I try being… polite. The Ape bares his teeth at me, and I remind myself that this is considered a 'friendly' gesture. Not a reason to kill him. Simundson starts walking and I move along with him, listening as he starts to point out and explain the events going on in the arena.
"So what was all that about sharpshooters and green jackets?" I hear Jenny ask the Apes behind us.
While Simundson points out trivial details that I've already noticed, I overhear bits and pieces of Jenny's conversation with the other two Apes. They are all members of an 'elite rifle club' comprised of former riflemen and sharpshooters, which are apparently specialized types of warriors. They are quite proud of this, and claim that despite belonging to different armies, their military uniforms were mostly green, (a crude attempt at basic camouflage, I surmise,) and members of their club now wear green jackets when at events such as this. I am proud to 'wear' green as well. No doubt my green-scaled sword sisters would slaughter these 'elite' Apes while they were still trying to load their weapons.
I return my attention to Simundson. It is pointing out some of the Apes and horses going through their competitions. One mounted Ape with a sword is attacking an Ape which is on foot, armed with a firearm with a long blade attached. 'Sword versus Bayonet' is what Simundson calls it, and the dismounted Ape is defending itself fairly well.
"Those aren't real swords, are they?" I hear Jenny whisper to the others.
"Naw, the cavalryman's using a single-stick, and the infantryman's got a wooden rifle and bayonet. They can still get plenty hurt, but aren't too likely to be killed." I believe that was Taylor's voice, slightly higher than the others, though lower than Jenny's or mine.
"Don't get much chance to just watch horses, usually if I'm close to them in the street, they're moving fast and I'm getting out of the way," Jenny says.
"I agree," I join in. "It's interesting to see the horses working this way."
"Well now, if you want to know about horses," says Simundson, "Sergeant Parker here is your man! He owns a small livery stable over near Ludgate Hill Station. He hires out cabs and carriages and is an excellent driver himself."
"That's rather close to us is it not?" I glance at Jenny for confirmation.
"Yes ma'am. West of St. Paul's Cathedral, though we're a bit east of St. Mary Le Bow's Church."
I think St. Paul's is the very large building near the bookshops. I must get Jenny into the habit of using street names; I am not familiar with many of the buildings that she refers to.
"Like how the horse seems to be trying to help his master. But in a real fight, wouldn't it just ride right over that man on foot?" asks Jenny.
"In a real fight, the man on the ground would be trying to gut… hurt the horse. Then take out the rider afterwards. The horse is a bigger target, you see," responds Taylor. Simundson barks at him again, but Taylor-ape snarls back and retires slightly. However the information is interesting; I can almost see Jenny making a note in her head.
For several minutes, Parker patiently answers simple inquiries from both of Jenny and me. I try not to ask too many questions, but listen to Jenny's instead; an adult female Ape of this time would very likely know far more than I do about horses, and I do not wish to appear ignorant. Idly I wonder what horsemeat tastes like, and if the Apes eat it very often.
After a short while, I enquire about making our way to the staging area of the tournament. The seats are far too public; anything criminal is unlikely to be out on full display. Simundson however, is an unexpected obstacle to that plan.
"Well upon my word! Of course not, Madame!" It shakes its head "I'm sorry but going behind the scenes is out of the question. It's rather rough back there you see. It's full of common soldiers and horses and no gentlewoman should have anything to do with it. A great deal of the talk, well, it's not really fit for ladies ears, Madame." I almost hiss in annoyance. I can do very little more out here. I need to get… backstage… as my troupe use to say.
From the corner of my eye, I see Jenny pick up a discarded sheet of paper from one of the seats. She examines it, and turns to Parker with a question pointing to something on the paper. I listen with some interest; Jenny is asking about another event with swords.
Simundson glances back at Jenny, and I can hear surprise in his voice when it asks, "She can read?"
"Why, yes, of course. Not well, mind you, complex words still give her trouble, but she is improving. And she can write fairly well. Well, print I suppose you would call it. I must encourage her to do something about that, to make sure she learns proper handwriting. Her mother wrote very clearly." I think of the lovely writing in the front of Jenny's school copybook.
Simundson makes the noise that Jenny calls a 'laugh.' My people do the same of course, but we are never so noisy about it! The Apes sometimes sound closer to horses than civilized beings! "She doesn't seem the type to sit still for long," it continues.
I feel myself coiling inside, ready to lash out at the foolish Ape. "It is not difficult to get her to concentrate. I encourage her to pick the subject matter, and she shows an aptitude for math and accounts, maps, weaponry of course, and even basic science. Why, just last week we were on Paternoster Row to buy a map, and Jenny found a battered copy of a simple book on Natural Sciences by … Comstock, I believe."
"Waste of time for women of her class to learn much. Be able to read and write enough to keep the household account certainly, but beyond that, what good is it for?"
I'm almost about to bite his head off, verbally at least, when his name is called by a group of nearby Apes. A quick bow and he leaves. I give a very improper snort.
"I've heard of Comstock," a new voice breaks into my dark thought. I look over and 'Private' Taylor continues quietly, "He was an American doctor who wrote many books on science."
"Was he? I will tell Jenny. The point that… 'Captain' Simundson missed is that because she likes the subjects she studies, Jenny is learning very quickly. I do not consider that a waste of time. She is quite clever." I refrain from adding…'for a young Ape.' Instead I cock my head, hissing slightly at Taylor. "You seem very interested in her."
The Taylor Ape shrugs its shoulders, and glances at Jenny. "It's just that…she reminds me of… someone I once knew a long time; all curiosity and energy. A young girl who loved learning new things, loved to learn from people, wanted to know how to defend herself, with or without weapons. Loved watching the soldiers and learning how to shoot." The Ape continues to watch Jenny.
"What happened to your girl?" I ask.
Taylor shakes its head from side to side. "The War of the Rebellion happened, ma'am. And anyone who ever had a romantic notion about fighting or war had it knocked out of them pretty fast. But they'll forget. They always forget. That's just… well… human nature, I guess."
I scoff to myself that 'human nature' is not a subject that interests me very much. At least, not generally, I admit, as I turn to watch Jenny chatting with Parker.
Although we remain for a while at ringside, observing as much as possible, I gather only a little more information, and eventually we return to my flat for Jenny to update our notes and for me to plan my next line of attack.
On Tuesday Jenny suggests that if the soldiers 'don't think that behind the scenes is any place for a lady', then it's time for a 'young man' to go have a look instead. Although I protest that neither her friend Tom nor George the grocer's delivery boy are likely available at short notice, Jenny simply shoos me out of the room, and tells me she'll meet me downstairs. Shortly afterwards we depart as usual in a Hansom Cab. When we arrive near as the Agricultural Hall we disembark, she ducks into a nearby alley and a minute later a familiar young Ape emerges, in trousers and cap, no doubt with a skirt folded neatly into its satchel. Once again I am torn between amusement and surprise at Jenny's approach to solving the problem.
"Ah, of course. Though I don't understand: I know I have trouble telling…humans apart, but won't the soldiers simply look at you and know that you are female?"
"Likely not. People see what they expect to see. Around all these soldiers, if they see a person my age wearing trousers, why I'm a boy, of course. They'd never think that a thirteen year old girl would be brave enough to wear anything but skirts."
"And if you're caught?"
"They'll think I'm just out for a lark; being cheeky and trying to see more of the show. Bit different from having the locals see me when Constable Palmer was looking for the bank robber the papers called The Masked Lady. Bet he still thinks that was a man." She grins, and then her face smooths out, and she sounds serious. "Promise that if there's any bother, I'll get out right quick. If there's trouble, I'll call real loud for you."
"If there's trouble, use your whistle. It sounds different from the ones the judges are using, and I will hear it better. I don't have your sharp ears!"
"Yes, Ma'am!" and off she goes.
I glide around the edges of the arena as much as I can, listening to conversations and complaints from both the soldiers and the audience. I keep hearing certain words: 'skilful', 'challenging', 'exciting', 'interesting'. But I hear other as well; 'yet another bout,' 'aren't they done yet', and occasionally the phrase… 'too long'. I see several Apes sketching in the stands; they are the ones who seem to pay the closest attention.
Eventually one of the Apes in green jackets arrives. It sees me from across the floor of the arena and circles around to greet me.
"Nice to see you again, Madame Vastra. 'though I'm also a bit surprised. The show seems a bit dull to bring a civilian back to it for several days."
Which one is this? I'm fairly sure it's not Taylor, it's too stiff. What did the other too call themselves? Simons and ssss… Parks? I bow slightly in greeting, hoping that I'll remember. Ape names are so very strange. "Although I am not a 'soldier's widow', I have very strong connections to the military. My clan is justly proud of our many warriors."
The Ape nods. "Scottish then, are you? Thought I heard a bit of a lilt in your voice." It looked around. "Are you unaccompanied, milady? Don't see your young maid around."
"Jenny is presently engaged in other duties." I decide not to correct him about my origins. Perhaps they will believe me to be a Scottish from Russia!
This Ape is polite and respectful. "I know you hoped to see a bit 'behind the scenes' as it were milady, even if the Captain did turn up stiff at the thought. Come on, we'll just pop round to near the exit, and see what we can see. Might get lucky and see few of the horse and men competitions." Ah, so this is the Horse Ape! Excellent, it was fairly intelligent. Parker! Sergeant Parker that was its name. I thank it by name and it seems pleased to be remembered. It escorts me over to the main entrance from the staging area.
I spend an interesting morning and early afternoon with Parker, both watching and listening. The games are held in different sections of the arena field. I notice, however, that in several cases it takes two to three hours to run through the entire list of challengers in a single event. In one case, there were so many Apes playing that it takes almost four hours of bout after bout for a winner to finally emerge!
Interspersed, Parker tells me bits about its time in the military, which was an impressive (for an Ape) twenty-one years, followed by a dozen years in its own business. I was not aware that Apes could live so long! Parker's experience as a soldier included fighting someplace it calls 'the Crimea', which I notice it mentions, but doesn't talk about very much. I suddenly feel a strange sympathy for it; I remember military campaigns that I would far rather forget as well.
Parker is also able to tell me quite a bit about the horses we see. After one of the bouts, it retrieves a Corporal from a horse regiment (which Parker calls 'Cavalry') and I learn far more about all things Horse than I may ever need to know. I notice, however, that I am still not allowed 'backstage' as it were; whenever we approach, we are turned away. Apparently more than a few Apes are certain that it is 'no place for a lady.'
I wonder how Jenny is getting along.
From time to time I catch a glimpse of young monkeys through the entrance to backstage. Occasionally I think I see Jenny.
Later in the afternoon, Taylor arrives. It greets Parker and me, and immediately looks around.
"The Captain's at his club, and the maid's on other errands," explains Parker. Very good, it was paying attention! Taylor gives Parker a narrow-eyed look that I cannot understand. Honestly, I must get Jenny to teach me how to ready humans better! "How did your practice go?"
"Pretty well," responds Taylor. "I'll be in top shape for the Wimbledon competition!"
I cock my head in confusion, and Parker explains that there is a shooting competition in south London in a few weeks' time, and their club is competing. Jenny might like to see that, and it would give me a chance to evaluate this time-periods weaponry more accurately.
Just then, something 'backstage' catches Taylor's attention. "Oh for Pete's sake!" It turns back to us, and bows quickly, catching my eye and scrunching up its face. And then Taylor is off, as if it cannot bear to look at us anymore.
Or as if something more interesting has caught its eye. I risk a glance after Taylor, and then beyond, while Parker grumbles about Taylor's 'rudeness.'
As I guessed, a disguised Jenny is nearby, surrounded by several young monkeys and soldiers while speaking with another Ape. I'm very tempted to forcibly stop Taylor, but before I can even move, it sits down on a nearby bench where it can see Jenny, but not close enough to interfere with what she is doing.
Is Taylor trying to… protect her from the other Apes?
That is my responsibility! I may hurt Taylor yet if I need to make it understand that!.
Later I see more hatchlings surrounding several larger Apes in a corner of the Arena, all chattering away. I point them out to Parker, and we stroll over to take a look at the excitement. Jenny is among the group. The larger Apes have sword-like things and are showing them to the hatchlings, demonstrating simple blocks and strikes.
"They're introducing the boys to a bit of single-stick fighting, ma'am. Good, that will keep their interest up."
"Single-sticks? You mentioned those yesterday, the horse-soldier was using one."
"They're a wooden sword with a leather basket hilt to protect the hand. They're wonderful for practicing fighting. There's no single-stick only competitions here this year but some of the lads would like to have events for them in the future."
I feel another Ape approach me, and turn to find Taylor on my other side, watching the group keenly. This proves fortunate, as a number of other Apes are drifting over to watch, but since I am flanked by Parker and Taylor, none of them attempt to bother me.
Eventually, a small monkey is given a padded coat, a cage for its head, and a sword, and then one of the larger Apes takes it through a few gentle hits and blocks. I start to understand; this is a basic lesson in fighting with the sword -sticks. Jenny is watching and listening closely; I'm proud that she isn't diving right in and showing off, but instead is taking the opportunity to look for differences from what I have taught her. She asks a few questions quietly of the Apes, and they are no doubt intelligent questions; Jenny already knows some basics after months of daily practice.
Perhaps these 'Single-sticks' would be a good weapon for Jenny to learn for her next step in blade work.
The demonstration carries on. When Jenny is chosen to participate, she acquits herself very well against a larger opponent, and 'wins' the bout, to the surprise of many in the crowd. "That little one's a natural," says Parker. I shake my head; the larger Ape wasn't trying very hard, and seemed more amused than hostile. Still, Jenny was obviously making use of her lessons.
Taylor looks over at me and growls quietly, "That little one's had training; s... he's got a good guard, and takes control of the bout. Seems to be use to fighting a taller opponent, too." It glances up and down my tall form, but says nothing more, and turns back to watch.
It's almost a pity that I have set rules for myself about who I can eat, or Taylor would definitely be back on my dinner list again.
The rest of the afternoon is uneventful. Before the evening games begin, Jenny 'the male ape' slips out of the hall and Jenny 'the maid' walks back in, finds me, and takes a seat.
"What have you learned?" I ask.
"That three different recruiting sergeants think I should sign up for good wages and adventure as soon as I turn fourteen. One was even willing to take me on now, and lie on the papers. Mind you, I'm sure they'll sing a different tune when they catch on that I'm a girl."
"Why would they sing… Wait, do you mean that all these Apes are male?" I look around in surprise. "But females are better warriors… they are both more aggressive and have a far superior instinct to protect both individuals and society!"
"No ma'am, soldiers are always men! Well, almost always. Heard a story once about a French girl who dressed as a soldier and won a bunch of battles, but she was killed for it." Jenny shakes her head. "Told Ma I'd like to be a soldier once. Got cuffed by her for that one. Never saw her so mad."
"I was a Warrior, and eventually a Scientist as well. These are both common among my people. Apes are very strange."
"Never heard of a woman being a scientist!" Jenny shrugs. "Well that was then. Today it was grand to just chat with the soldiers about this and that. They mostly talked about weapons and horses and techniques and such. Also lot's of 'God's truth, there I was...' stories. And a fair bit of coarse talk as well. But the dockworkers are pretty rough too, and I've heard worse. Well, as much of it as I understood."
"What do they think of this tournament?"
"They love it, and lots of fellows want to hold competitions in their regiments next year to get better for it. But they're worried about the small turnout, and hope the show doesn't disappear. They've heard rumours, you see, that it's not doing so well."
I think about this for a moment, and then ask, "Did you hear anything else that may be relevant?"
Jenny nods. "After a while I sat back in a quiet corner and just listened until I heard someone fussing about the price of hay and oats for the horses. Found a starchy little quartermaster who was happy to have someone to spout off to once he got wound up about how much everything costs! He was the only person I heard mention anything about theft."
"Indeed?"
"Kept saying that the men and horses were being robbed. Not sure if he was telling the truth, or just blowing hot air."
"Blowing…?"
Jenny sighs, "Spouting off?" I cock my head. "Ummm… ranting?"
"Ah! Expressing his frustration?"
"That sounds about right."
"I still would prefer to go backstage and look around. It's annoying how protective these A..men are."
"Thought you might say that." Jenny pulls out her little notebook. "Here, I made a map of what's back there."
We spend another hour reviewing, as Jenny uses the map to describe the wooden underpinnings of our seats, and the network of hallways, stalls, and storage rooms beneath us. We finish off by watching the early evening events, including a display of cutlass drill which we both enjoy. However I am not sure we have advanced much on our investigations.
We return to the Gin Palace to find what Jenny jokingly refers to as 'the usual suspects' drinking in the back and waiting for us. Thackeray and Abernathy are chatting with Mr Maxwell. I give them a short update, and then Jenny coughs a little and gently asks Mr Maxell, "Sir, you.. well I mean the Tournament, it didn't have fall in with the 'cent per centers,' did it?"
I think Jenny surprised him: Maxwell sputters…. "NO! Absolutely not! Of all the impertinent…" Watching his expressions is very amusing.
"It's a very intelligent question sir," puts in a new voice. Constable Palmer strolls into the back Area and nods at Jenny. "The Scorpions acted as money lenders, and charged sharp rates backed up with blades. 'Member hearing that at a briefing we had. Smart to ask if that's the case here."
Jenny shrugs and turns back to Maxwell. "It's just, well, the Tournament seems to be spending an awful lot of money. The hall must cost a fair bit, and there's food for the horses, and prizes for the men. If some of the income is disappearing, how are you paying for it all?"
"Most of the Governors on the Board are quite wealthy. They are self-funding the operation."
"And how do you find your attendance numbers?" I ask. "Are they as you expected?"
Maxwell grumbles, "Unfortunately we neglected to do much advance advertising, and the event itself has received disappointingly little coverage from the press. Except for the "Officers' Day" of course. That was last Wednesday."
"And tomorrow?" I prod.
"Nothing special planned. We're getting to the end of the competitions though, so we'll have some finals later in the week."
"Excellent." I cock my head, "and your potential audience will be made aware of this… how, exactly?"
Maxwell sputters (why do Apes DO this when asked the simplest questions) a litany of 'not really my responsibility' at which point I cut him off, and point out that the success of the tournament is the responsibility of everyone involved. So, what was he planning on doing about it?
I leave him grumbling into his gin. I'm tired and this case is frustrating me.
A few minutes later, after I have calmed down, I feel a patient presence at my elbow. Jenny is across the Area, speaking softly with Constable Palmer. So this must be James, one of the very small number of Apes that I can stand to have near me.
"Madame Vastra, may I have a word with you?" asks Thackeray. At my nod, he continues, "I asked my colleagues in the banks a bit about Maxwell. The man is young, but seems to be respected for being quite good at what he does. This is his first year in the position; the previous assistant treasurer was quietly let go at the end of the last tournament. Now mind, I've heard talk of some rumours that he was suspected of embezzling, but the men I've spoken with say that makes no sense; the man was of good character with no large debts or vices. Besides which, if it were true, the problem would have ceased when he was no longer employed."
"That is very interesting. And very useful to know."
"On the other matter we've discussed, I've spoken with an Estate Agent about the area that you are interested in. He's located several properties that you might like."
"I'm afraid I won't be able to speak with him for several days. This case is consuming a significant amount of my time."
"I understand. If I may make one suggestion?"
"Of course." He can suggest all he likes. I may even listen occasionally.
"Then may I recommend that when you are finished with this case, that you consider moving your household to a respectable hotel? Even if only as a temporary measure. While I will miss your company here, it will give both you and Jenny a chance to re-adjust to a more refined way of living."
I'm not completely certain I understand what Thackeray is saying, but I suspect he is telling me to go to more spacious transient quarters and take Jenny with me. This is a good idea so far as I am concerned. As I said, occasionally I will listen.
However, I'm not sure what Jenny will think of the plan.
Wednesday morning finds us back at the Hall. So far we have not been able to find either thieves or what Thackeray referred to as embezzlers. Shortly after we arrive however, Maxell tracks us down, sweating heavily. I can smell fear on him.
"Please come with me Madame Vastra. The Tournament Treasurer, Mr Carr-Harris, wants to see you immediately." As we leave the arena, I see Parker and Taylor enter. Jenny sees them as well, and waves to them. She seems to make another gesture too, but I am concentrating on following Maxwell, and don't catch it all.
We are led under the stands to a large room with a table and numerous chairs, close to the main entrance. As it turns out, the treasurer reminds me of nothing so much as the overstuffed pigeons who strut around our windowsill from time to time. Especially the ones I like to hand over to Jenny for pigeon pie. He immediately orders Maxwell and Jenny out of the room, and to 'shut the door behind them.' He ignores them after that; a mistake on his part. Maxwell turns to leaves and I hear the door shut, but my focus is on the tall, arrogant Carr-Harris Ape as it paces around the room. It does not invite me to sit. I listen quietly while it rants; it seems the silly thing is not happy about having 'a woman poking around and asking questions about something she can't possibly know anything about.'
Finally it runs out of hot air. "I want you to give up and get out of here. Now!" It turns away, obviously dismissing me. I, however, am not so easy to dismiss.
"What utter nonsense!" I reply. Carr-Harris turns back to me, astonished at being openly contradicted. This one gets his way far too often for his own good.
"Why yes, I could give up now, as you ask. However I will of course go immediately to Scotland Yard and give my notes, observations and theories to one of their most experienced inspectors. I only undertook the case to spare the Tournament considerable embarrassment."
"What do you mean?" Carr-Harris asks angrily.
"The alternative to my investigation is NOT that the problem will quietly go away, the alternative is that by this time tomorrow the Hall and the offices of the Board of Governors will be infested with police officers, all probing the cause of the tournament's financial problems. And while I strongly suspect that that might finally bring the Tournament some badly needed notice from the public, I really cannot recommend it as a strategy to gain broader publicity."
The Carr-Harris Ape scoffs. "The cause to the problem is obvious; I'm certain that the last assistant treasurer was… less than competent, perhaps even dishonest, and frankly, Maxwell isn't any better."
"You hired both of them, did you not? While it may be true that you could be so unlucky as to hire two such… men one after the other, there are other far more obvious explanations that most people will jump to; that either you yourself are incompetent in choosing your assistants, or that you are covering for your own... shortcomings. Therefore it is in your own interest to let me continue my work, and find out the truth of the matter."
Like any Ape when challenged, Carr-Harris then proceeds to threaten me with noise and bluster. I'm surprised that it has enough self-control to refrain from beating its chest with its paws.
Finally, when it pauses for a breath, I ask, "You do realize that there is a witness to your poor behaviour and posturing in the room?" I wave my hand at Jenny. Her dark clothing against the dark wooden door makes it easy to overlook her presence, and obviously Carr-Harris was not paying any sort of attention to her. "She's been standing here the entire time."
To my amusement Jenny drops a tiny curtsey, and then smirks at him.
"How the devil?! I told you to leave." Jenny's face moves, and the Ape snarls at her. I must remember to ask her what she conveyed to him. "No matter. No-one will believe the word of woman's maid over mine." He finally glances behind her, to where the door is standing slightly open. "And I told Maxwell to shut that blasted door!"
"Oh he did, sir. I just opened it up again quiet-like afterwards. Not good for a Lady's reputation to be alone with a strange man, now is it? Much better to have a chaperone. Or several. Like the men standing in the hall outside, listening to every word you've said."
Carr-Harris's face goes white, and it strides over and pulls open the door. I peer over its shoulder to find Taylor and Parker glaring at it. Maxwell is hiding behind them trying to decide whether to be alarmed or outraged. Carr-Harris starts to bluster, but Parker and Taylor simply cross their arms and scowl at it. So much for this idiot of an Ape: it's been outsmarted by a clever little monkey! Jenny crosses the room, and takes a position to my left and slightly in front of me. And crosses her arms. No doubt she is scowling as well!
Carr-Harris sputters but backs off. I give it a slight nod, and sweep out of the room with the words. "Come along, Jenny! We have work to do!"
Jenny's "Yes ma'am" and the light tread of shoes, followed by heavier hob-nailed boots on the wooden floor are very reassuring sounds.
We return to our work, with my thanks to Parker and Taylor for their timely presence. Parker is wide eyed, but Taylor is cheekier, "Honest Madame, you're really investigating the Tournament?" At my nod, it simply says, "Good for you!" The Apes go about their business, but I notice them observing us from time to time throughout the day.
In the early afternoon, however, as I discuss the case with her, something catches Jenny's eye and she turns away slightly, preoccupied.
"Pay attention when I'm speaking to you," I hiss.
"Half a mo, please ma'am," says Jenny, still distracted. She seems to be watching something going on near one of the exits, not in the arena.
And suddenly she's off, moving at a rapid walk towards a nearby group of Apes. I can see a family, two adults and several hatchlings, including a small one that is being carried by the adult in a dress. All wear rather shabby clothes.
Jenny moves past them and without breaking her stride, she grabs two youngsters behind the family by their ears and drags them away. They are dressed in even worse clothing than Jenny was when I met first her. The hatchlings yelp, but quickly fall silent.
I hurry to catch up with Jenny. I hear the thudding of hobnails on packed dirt behind me and turn to find Parker and Taylor arriving to help. However, Jenny has the situation under control.
Jenny tosses the youngsters against a wall, and does her best to loom over them (it's very… amusing to me to watch the attempt, as Jenny is rather small herself.) She proceeds to question the hatchlings sharply; her voice is…rough, she sounds harsh and angry, and the words she speaks are unfamiliar. Yet the 'street rats,' as Jenny once described herself, seem to know her. Both are even smaller than Jenny, and cower in her firm grip, but they aren't fighting her, and defer to her dominance.
However, despite the fact that she is shaking them, and growling at them, she has not called for the police constable I can see across the arena.
Their speech is almost incomprehensible to me. Fast and full of words that make no sense, spoken in accents so thick that I can only recognize one word in ten. And I'm not the only one who can barely understand them.
"Are they speaking English, Ma'am?" murmurs Taylor.
"I honestly have no idea," I reply. For once the two of us stand together, united in complete bafflement as to what Jenny and the street rats are saying.
A shout full of despair comes from behind us "My wallet!" Jenny doesn't let go of the youngsters.
"It's in the girl's left pocket, Ma'am," Jenny says, shaking one of the hatchlings slightly so I know which one she means. I remove a thin, worn piece on leather, turning it over in my hands.
"Private Taylor, it's awful lucky you found that on the floor, now isn't it.?" Jenny's not so much asking but almost ordering him to help. Luckily, the Ape is up to the challenge.
"Very lucky!" says Taylor with a nod of its head, "I'm sure the poor man will be quite happy to have it back." Taylor takes the bit of leather from me, and saunters off towards the commotion behind us. Parker remains with us, keeping a careful eye on the young monkeys.
Jenny turns back to them. "Ya pair o' useless toolers, yer lucky I nabbed ya and not a bluebottle," is as close as I can get to what she says.
"C'mon Jenny, wa paid oor flash…"
"Ya never did, ya never 'ave a farthin' 'tween ya…" scoffs Jenny, then stops, looking at them with eyes narrowed to mere slits. She looks like a true predator now. "How did you get in here? Didn't pay, so you must have come in another way."
The hatchlings glance at each other, trembling now.
"Show me!" barks Jenny and the youngsters shake and then point backstage. Jenny releases the smaller one, keeping a tight grip on the other. "Go on," she says, and we are led first 'behind the scenes. A young Ape in a red coat tries to stop us, but Jenny just keeps going as if she has every right to be there and he steps out of the way. She's going to be marvellous in a few years.
On our way, I leave watching the hatchlings to Jenny, and take the opportunity to look around us. Apes are busy cleaning weapons and equipment, reviewing what I recognize as tournament brackets, and generally preparing to go 'on stage.' Oh this brings me back to my days at the Gathering! Now we are back with the horses, and Apes are cleaning and feeding the horses, and the open ended boxes in which the horses are stored. Here and there, and Ape with a small wagon with one wheel is carrying away filthy straw. The smell is here is almost overwhelming to me, although familiar. It's the same odour as I often encounter in the streets, especially on hot days. "God, what a pong!" mutters Jenny.
The hatchlings soon lead us to a dusty side corridor, and then into darkness. The corridor takes us to an outside wall, where there is a small, forgotten hatch. Its latch is hanging loose when we look at it closely, but to a bored guard, it would look secure. Jenny thrusts the hatchlings at Parker, and drops to her knees to examine it. She can squeeze through, but just barely. A minute later she's back, staring hard at the hatchlings.
"It goes out to an alley behind the Hall, ma'am. Near where the horse droppings are tossed. Probably an old delivery hatch that's been forgotten."
"By the manure pile? Perhaps it was for fodder for the horses, and was abandoned when the pile was relocated," says Parker. Jenny nods, and then grabs the hatchlings again. This time, though, she is not as rough with them. "C'mon, it's time for you to leave." We escort them out of the hall, towards a side-door. Once there, she pulls out a little bag from her pocket and gives each of them a small silver coin.
"Here's sixpence each for the information about the hidden door. Don't let me see you back in here buzzing though, or I'll hand you over to the crushers quicker than thought!"
The hatchlings agree, obviously delighted, and scamper off outside.
Parker eyes Jenny for a long moment. "You're too soft." He finally says.
"What's it to you?" growls Jenny, and stalks off towards the arena.
"Mr Parker, have you ever lived on the streets of London?"
"No Ma'am, but…"
"No 'buts'. I trust Jenny's judgement in this. 'Soft' she may seem to be, but I suspect that there will be no more trouble from those street rats this week." Especially not if they think my little dragon is watching for them!
When we return to the main hall, Parker and I see Jenny stalking back and forth muttering to herself. The Taylor Ape is nearby, watching but not interfering with her. As we approach, there is a sudden commotion. I look up and see the poor Ape family approaching rapidly. The skirted Ape – possibly a female - collapses before Taylor, and I am concerned that he has hurt her. She is wailing about something and keeps repeating "God bless you." Taylor is obviously surprised, and Parker and I hasten to interfere. The female's mate, however, has managed to capture Taylor's paw, and keeps pumping it up and down. I move forward, but suddenly Jenny is there, stopping me with a gentle hand on my arm.
"It's all right, ma'am," she says, "They're just saying 'Thank you.' Looks like I'm not the only one who's 'soft.'"
Finally the Ape wearing trousers thanks Taylor again for something, gathers the female and they return to their nearby set of hatchlings. Parker turns to Taylor and growls, "What was all that fuss about?"
"Well, you see, I added a pound or two, possibly a bit more, to the wallet before I returned it. It was almost empty when Miss Jenny gave it to me, and I thought the pickpockets had cleaned it out." He shrugs, his face growing red. "I didn't realise that there wasn't anything in it for them to steal in the first place."
Jenny grins at him, Parker shakes his head, and I curse silently in the language of my people. There's no way I can eat him now! Jenny would be very unhappy with me.
After the various Apes disperse to their business, I lead Jenny back to our seats in the stands. "Those small wagons the…soldiers where using. Could they be stealing the straw?" Jenny starts to laugh quietly, but stops when I scowl at her. I am always amazed that she can tell my expressions through the heavy netting that I wear.
"No ma'am. They were mucking out the stalls. The horses, well, they don't use privies, right, so they…um…" She waves to the arena, where several Apes are cleaning up from competition involving several horses.
"Relieve themselves where they stand," I add.
"Right. The men use the wheelbarrows to move the dirt outside to the manure pile." Two Apes are using a shovel and a long-handled tool with a fork on the end to load a hand wagon. A third Ape lifts the handles, and takes it away.
I think about this for a minute. "Are the contents of the wheeled barrows searched when they are taken outside?"
"Wheelbarrows, ma'am. Shouldn't think so, who'd want that job?"
"Yet surely the best way to remove bulky objects would be to conceal them in a noxious substance?" I suggest.
Jenny frowns, staring hard at the wheely barrow receding in the distance. "Well, if you mean that maybe they buried the loot… I suppose…"
"Then we shall spend the night on watch."
"On watch? On a pile o' sh…" Jenny cuts herself off and drops her head into her hands. "Ma'am, please tell me yer not serious!"
"Yes I am. We will guard the manure pile tonight and see if anyone attempts to recover any stolen goods!"
Fortunately, Jenny has her trousers and jacket in her satchel, in case she needed to disguise herself again. So she is able to change clothes late in the evening.
A night on guard duty would not usually be a hardship in the warm weather of what the Apes call late 'June.' Unfortunately shortly after the local bells tolled twelve strokes and fell silent for the night, it starts to rain, and the temperature quickly drops from pleasant to uncomfortably cool. I'm wearing my cloak of course, but Jenny is simply dressed in trousers, shirt and jacket. Eventually, her young impatience, and no doubt her chills, make themselves known, and she observes "It's dark, it's cold and we're sitting in the rain, guarding a big pile of horse sh…manure. Ma'am!"
"A warrior's life is not always heroic or glamorous. Frequently there are long periods of extreme boredom and toil, followed by fear, mayhem and heart-stopping danger. Sometimes literally."
"And sometime warriors sit around guarding horse…droppings?"
"If that's what needs to be done, then yes."
"Hoorah for us!" Ah, the same grumblings of any warrior cadet I ever taught. I almost smile, for in the darkness around us, Jenny comes very close to sounding like one of my own people.
"Silence," I warn her. "Do not reveal yourself to any watching Ape."
While she quiets down again, and does a brave job of being strong, Jenny is eventually shivering from being cold and wet. She lasts far longer though than I would have if I was dressed as lightly as she. It's time for me to take a hand. I pull us both under an overhanging roof, sit on a small wooden box, and tug Jenny down to sit beside me, wrapping her under the cover of my cloak.
"We will watch from here for a while."
"Oh, that's much better," says Jenny. A few minutes later though, she asks, "Ma'am, you feel rather cool. Are you chilled?"
"No, I'm simply cold-blooded." I can almost feel her thinking about that. "I will explain later. For now, maintain silence in case our prey is about."
Nothing happens at all. Jenny tries not to grumble, but I suspect her tongue is very sore from biting it. She needs something to do to warm her up. I know what needs to be done, but I expect that Jenny will not be very happy with me about it. The half-light of near dawn will help; at least we'll be able to see.
"Do you think you can find the hatch that your young…associates showed us today?"
"Should think so Ma'am. It's just over there."
"I need you to go inside, and bring back a shovel and one of those long forked implements."
"A shovel and a pitchfork. Yes Ma'am. Anything else?"
"A wheely barrow won't fit through that hatch, I presume?"
"A wheel barrow? No, the hatch is too small. What do we need a whee…" Jenny stops, and her head drops. "Ma'am, please tell me you ain't going to do what I think you are?"
"It must be done, Jenny. We need to be sure. And the exercise will help keep you warm."
Jenny sighs deeply, and then disappears into the darkness. It takes a while, but eventually she reappears with a shovel across her shoulders, two canvas buckets filled with water threaded onto it. She must have fetched them out one at a time through the hatch. I've sometimes seen Apes carrying milk in the streets like this; it amuses me to see Jenny doing it.
"What are the water buckets for?" I ask.
"They're for after the work," mutters Jenny.
"Ah. Clever. Although you forgot the fork pole."
"Pitchfork. Didn't forget it. You're not mucking around in manure in those clothes; that's your second best dress and that cloak takes forever to dry. I'll do it. My trousers are easier to wash. You tell me what to do and keep watch. But no 'stinky, smelly, filthy or dirty Ape' comments for a week after this. Right?"
"Agreed." I can't argue with her reasoning. Besides, Jenny is usually a very clean smelling young Ape. I don't think I've called her filthy in several months. And I was drunk at the time.
Still, given the task ahead, I understand her concern.
I outline a basic search pattern for Jenny to dig, but in the end, it is a waste of effort. Unless one counts the lesson in patience and duty for Jenny. We don't find anything, but Jenny ends up rather off worse for the effort.
At the end of the exercise, Jenny dumps the two buckets of water over herself and her clothes to try and wash some of the dirt off. She is cold and wet, but slightly less offensive to my sense of smell. I certainly understand her demand for no 'filthy Ape comments for a week.' I remind myself that this was my idea; Jenny carried out her orders; and I Will Not be an insensitive idiot. No foolish comments from the lizard woman. Not this time.
Jenny might poison my next meal if I'm that stupid.
We walk home on Thursday morning; Jenny tells me that seeing how wet and dirty she is, no cab will stop for us. This proves to be an accurate prediction.
To distract her, I assign Jenny the task of reading any playbills or posters pasted on the walls we pass, advertising the latest plays, lectures and entertainments. These and handbills, the pieces of paper that young monkeys are paid to hand out on the streets, are an important means of communication for the Apes of this city. To add incentive, I promise her a reward if she finds a certain name.
I think of my own poster from the 'Monstre Gathering." Our fair lacked many things, but Henry Gordon Jago made sure that the local Apes knew when we were performing. Handbills and posters were a vital part of his communication strategy.
Jenny diligently does as I request, and to my delight, finds the name of my old colleague among the plastered notices. She writes down the name and location in her notebook, and displays it to me proudly. I agree that she has earned her reward.
Jenny soon sees a street vendor and approaches it but the vendor recoils, probably from the smell of Jenny's clothes. I step in, and after consulting with Jenny, exchange some coins for three items that Jenny calls 'meat pies.' I consume a very tasty morsel that Jenny calls a hot beef pie, and Jenny has a Cornish pasty. We divide a second meat pie between us. We are both are in a far more cheerful mood after our hot breakfast. I must remember this, and have Jenny instruct me on how to choose the proper vendors in order to obtain the best food. I smile to myself though; Jenny probably thinks this is her reward. To me this is simply a well-deserved snack and Jenny's reward will come later.
When we arrive at the Gin Palace, I intercept George returning from an early morning errand, and send him to his mother for eggs, bread and as a favour to us, some bacon from the nearby butcher. Jenny takes up a bucket of cold water, and while I wander off to the necessary she has a quick wash, dries off and changes into the clean dry clothes for sleeping. By the time I return, George has dropped off the groceries and we ready to take a short morning nap.
Sleep puts both of us in a much better mood, and I tell Jenny to retrieve her notes and maps. I take some time to review them, and finally sit back, and glance over to where Jenny is preparing a light breakfast.
"I'm trying to decide what is wrong with the Tournament," I sigh.
"Sometimes it's really grand, but it can be awfully boring too!" I almost growl, ready to reprimand her for losing focus on the case, and then pause. Jenny and her family, though very poor, often went to events like this, at least as a 'treat'.
That's likely why she was keeping an eye on the Apes that the pickpockets targeted the other day; they reminded her of her own family. Thus she understood, far better than the rest of us, how devastating the loss of even an almost empty wallet could be. And how much of a difference a pair of sixpence could make to two young street rats. More important to the current case, however, are Jenny's thought on the Tournament itself.
"Would your family go to an event such as this?" I ask.
"Well, it's awfully dear for just watching the same things over and over. Might be fun to see the finals. And something interesting, like cutlass drill, or a gun run. That one we saw the other evening was good. Might go once, but I doubt we'd ever go back again. Probably wouldn't suggest it to anyone else either. Too many more interesting things to see in the city."
I nod. As is often the case, Jenny's words remind me of something I already knew. "The Apes of London enjoy spectacle and novelty. You've said your own family liked to go out to such events when they could; a Royal Navy Cutlass Drill, a ride on the Underground, even a fair that was essentially a freak show."
"You're no freak!" Jenny protests. "Just 'cause you're not human doesn't make you a freak. Just means you're different!"
Once again, I am reminded that I rather enjoy the company of this friendly young monkey. Even if she does have a talent for mischief.
And once again, her observations spark a flicker of an idea, as slivers of information that I know, but have not yet processed begin to be forged into patterns by my mind.
"Ma'am?" I distantly hear Jenny ask.
"Shhh," I reply. "I'm thinking." I sit back and let my mind work through all I've heard and seen until now.
I barely notice the tasty nibbles of soft bacon and boiled eggs or the hot tea that I eat and drink as fuel for my contemplations. Strangely, I never question that they don't run out until I'm full, and my thinking is done.
I know who the culprits are. I know what must be done. I also know exactly who can help solve this problem. And, thanks to Jenny, I know he's nearby and exactly where he's currently touring
Now I just need to contact him. Time to visit the Post Office.
I leave Jenny at the flat, as she considers washing her clothes her most pressing priority. I can't fault her for that!
As luck would have it, as I return from the nearby main Post Office, I am hailed by James Thackeray, walking towards the Bank of England. To my surprise, Mr Dawes is with him. I have never seen him outside the bank before. I was under the impression that he lived there.
"Madame Vastra! Lovely to see you?" James looks around, frowning. "Where's Jenny? You really should not be out without your maid, Madame!"
"There was a slight… emergency. Jenny is doing some needed laundry, while I simply posted a letter. Surely no more than a minor inconvenience, and entirely due to my own restlessness." They nod and we walk together for a minute. An idea comes to mind, and I turn and ask, "Mr Dawes. If you can spare a moment, I would like to ask you a few general questions. Your answer may be useful to my investigation."
Dawes nods, a truly powerful Ape who is once again being generous towards me. "How may I help you Madame?"
I explain quickly the case Jenny and I are working on. Dawes acknowledges that he has heard Thackeray mention it to a colleague, but he is not aware of the details before I explained them.
"My first question is this: were you are aware of this event before Mr Thackeray or I mentioned it? If so, have you attended it during either year?"
"I was invited to 'Officer's Day last year," Mr Dawes replies, "And found it interesting, if sometimes a trifle tedious. I have not attended the tournament this year, due to my schedule."
On my other side, James Thackeray shakes his head, "For what' it's worth, Madame, I've never been. I admit that I hadn't even heard of it before last Saturday night."
"I'm not surprised," I reply. "There seems to have been a surprising lack of communication regarding the event. Which brings me to my second and final question: How did you hear about it? Or rather, who invited you?"
Dawes regards me for a long moment, and then answers, "I belong to the board of a charitable society that is opening an infirmary for old soldiers near Notting Hill soon. I was invited to the tournament last year by... a relative of one of our patrons. It was interesting I suppose, but my schedule has been full this year, and to be blunt, I found the event is too… repetitive to be worth a special trip this year."
"That answer does not surprise me. As always Mr Dawes, you have been most helpful. I appreciate your honesty."
"Madame, have you found the answers you seek?"
"I believe so.
"Have you sorted out what's going on?" asks Thackeray.
"It is not enough to know what is going on; in order for Maxwell to keep his position, I also need to present a solution to the problem, and persuade what I suspect is a rather stubborn group to listen to me."
"And have you found a solution?" asks Dawes.
"I am confident that I have done so; a former colleague will meet me tomorrow morning at the arena and review my assessment of the situation. I intend to present my findings to the Board on tomorrow afternoon."
We arrive at the alley that leading to the small Area behind the Gin Palace, and the stairwell to my flat.
"My only concern is that Mr Maxwell's superiors will not be pleased by the rather blunt revelation that I must deliver to them. Is there not a saying among the English about 'killing the messenger?' Although if it comes to that, I believe I can hold my own. I am much obliged to you both. If you will excuse me?"
As I leave them and they walk away, Mr Dawes says to Thackeray. "When we arrive at the bank, tell one of the messenger boys to come up and see me. I want to send a note around to the Patron of the Infirmary. I think he might be rather interested in that meeting tomorrow."
Behind me, I hear James say, "Sir, would that be…?" and then I'm out of range of their voices.
Not that it is important. What do I care about which Apes know about the meeting. Let Dawes tell who he likes. At least it might be entertaining.
I spend the rest of Thursday with Jenny, asking about certain words that I may need to know for the meeting on Friday. I need these Apes to pay attention, and word choice will be critical. Jenny explains some of what I need; she's been writing down things that Thackeray says from time to time, and Abernathy helps as well when he drops by the Gin Palace that evening.
On Friday morning I help Jenny clean the Gin Palace so she will finish earlier and then we make a final visit to the Hall and I look around for my guest. He is sitting in the stands, watching the competitions and alternatively clapping with delight and throwing his head into his paws, but calls out when he sees me.
"Vastra, my dear! This place is a wonder, and a disaster! What sort of idiots have you gotten involved with!"
I'd forgotten how much I like this ridiculous Ape. I've known this one for years, and even I have sorted out that he's male. I introduce Jenny, then brief my guest on what we have seen, what we have been told, and what we have found out. He agrees with my assessment, and shakes his head over the foolishness of it all. He also believes that he can help with the problem.
He's not The Doctor, but he is very good at what he does. Even if his ideas of showmanship occasionally outrun anything resembling good sense.
Catching bullets with my tongue, indeed!
Later after the bells call the Apes back from their mid-day meal, I meet my guest outside the office of the Chairman of the Board of the Grand Tournament. We enter with Jenny, but just outside the meeting room, encounter a foolish Ape, and a small difficulty.
"Your maid will have to wait here Madame. Can't have a child underfoot, now can we? What if she misbehaves?"
I look the Ape up and down, trying to decide if he is serious. So far as I know, Jenny is a very well behaved young monkey (full of mischief, but well-behaved.) Abernathy, Thackeray and even Mr Dawes appear to like her, and I doubt that Dawes especially would tolerate poor behaviour.
I cock my head, and reply, "Don't be foolish. Jenny stays with me." As he draws breath to protest, I remember something Jenny said a few days ago, and ask. "Will there be other females present at this meeting?"
"Of course not!" huffs the Ape.
Hmmm. How irrational. However back to the point. "Then Jenny will remain with me. I care for my reputation, even if you do not!" And with that, I sweep by him, Jenny and my guest following close behind.
The room contains a massive table, painted and gilded and polished to a high sheen. I've seen Jenny clean the Gin Palace, and given how hard she works, I can tell that someone put a great deal of effort into that polish. I look over the faces of the Apes who are sitting around the massive table. Almost all have grey fur and most are far fatter than the Apes in the arena. Silverbacks? Or those who delude themselves that they are, perhaps. As far as I can tell, the Ape outside was correct; all are males. I will ask Jenny later to confirm that. Most of them stink of smoke and sweat, but at least they would yield well-marbled meat. I doubt any of them have done as much work in the last week as whoever polished the table did.
Mr Maxwell appears beside me, and introduces one of the older Apes as the Chairman. He addresses the Ape as 'Milord.' The Chairman does not invite me to sit. Even I know that is rude, and I wave my guest and Jenny to a bench against the near wall. There are better chairs in the room, but neither will be seated for long.
"So… 'Madame'… Vastra isn't it? Maxwell says you have some results to report to us."
Just then, a trio of Apes enter, all in a flurry. All the other Apes suddenly stand and bow; even Jenny makes a very creditable curtsey, and the Chairman, startled, begins to fuss. Mr Dawes is one of the trio, but he is deferring to two other large Apes, an older one with an amazing set of grey whiskers on the side of its face, and one who seems younger, though fatter, with dark whiskers. The elder waves the Chairman away, and they sit in heavy leather chairs against the wall. "Madame Vastra, so sorry for being late," says Mr Dawes with a nod in my direction, "please carry on."
The other Apes return to their seats, and the Chairman continues, less challenging now, and it keeps throwing looks at the newcomers. I can smell all the Apes starting to sweat. I think they may be afraid. Not of me. Of the newcomers. How very interesting!
"As I was saying Madame," the Chairman continues in a far more polite tone: "Who is stealing from the Grand Tournament? Who is the thief?"
"There is no thief," I reply. The Apes around the table murmur in surprise and dismay. "There never was a thief. Which I suspect your treasurer knows quite well." I scan the table, the veil concealing my face, and intimidating the Apes. "Quite simply, you underestimated the expense needed to run the tournament, and overestimated your returns from the sale of admissions, completely ignoring the truth that a dull event that is not well known will not sell tickets! I suspect that you are all fully aware of this, and simply do not wish to admit it to your Royal patrons." The Apes rustle around the table, glancing quickly at the Two Apes against the wall. I look back at Jenny and my guest. The fuzz-faced human is grinning, and nods his head slightly at the newcomers. Ah! Really! How very intriguing that the Royalty in question have dropped by! I thought all Ape royalty wore crowns and gowns. Obviously that is not so. These two are dressed much like the others.
"Gentlemen," I start, remembering the words Jenny taught me, "If you hope to make a profit, and fulfil your promises to the Duke of Cambridge to support his charities, then you can no longer help it. This tournament must change."
"The officers and men enjoy the chance to increase their skill-at-arms through competition. I understand from my investigations that various inter-regimental Assaults at Arms were already being arranged in preparation for the next Grand Tournament. Almost everyone I spoke with agrees that the annual event provides a tremendous incentive to improve themselves.
"What you do not have is a focused event. When I see even the most devoted spectators lounging in their seats tired at the repetition of the contests, it is not difficult to deduce that the event can be boring at times!"
"High and mighty, or low and hard-working, the story is the same. Londoners love a good show. Exhibitions such as the World's Fair at the Crystal Palace, Astley's Amphitheatre, and or even a travelling fair with an eclectic variety of acts are all proven draws.
"In other words, in order to appeal to the general public, you need to think in terms of show business."
I wave forward my guest, a jovial Ape with fur growing thickly along the sides of his face, with a smaller tuff under his nose.
"Gentleman, this is an acquaintance of mine, who I believe can help you. May I introduce Mr Henry Gordon Jago, a professional showman. He was kind enough to attend the Tournament this morning, and has some very strong recommendations for you."
"Such as?" Challenged one of the Apes.
"For a start," boomed Jago, "limit the number of heats and competitors, and return to shorter week long layout. Hold the elimination heats early in the day. That will save the more exciting finals for the evening performances. Then mix the competitions with a variety of displays that will wow the crowds."
The Apes are, fortunately, paying attention to Jago, more than to me. I circle around the table to Maxwell, and lean down to speak in his ear. "Stay on your guard. I want a word with the Treasurer." Maxwell discreetly nods, and I continue circling around until I reach the overfat Ape near the Chairman. Carr-Harris looks up at me startled, while the discussion goes on around us.
"What sort of displays?"
"Some of the men were knocking off each other's helmets with their swords while they were waiting, and there seemed to be a great deal of interest from those watching, even a few bets were exchanged. Perhaps something like that would be a start."
"Oh that's a child's game!"
"Maybe have teams compete…" and Jago was off and enthusiastically babbling.
I lean over the treasurer's shoulder and murmur in his ear. "I know what you did. I know that you tried to save your own hide for overspending the tournament's funds and blamed your subordinates, even to the point of starting rumours of embezzlement last year. You are a bully and a coward. However, although such actions may be disgraceful, they are not illegal. On the other hand, I also know that if you attempt to use the firearm you have concealed in your coat with Royalty in the room, it will go far worse for you than it will for me." The Ape turns towards me, starting to bluster, but stops almost at once, glancing fearfully over my shoulder. I straighten and turn slightly, unsurprised to find Mr Dawes standing there.
"You should be aware," he says quietly, "that Mr Bradshaw, this tournament's former assistant treasurer, will be starting work at the Bank of England next week, under the direction of our senior manager. Many of the rumours attached to that young mans' name are repeated by those who sit on charitable boards with you, Carr-Harris. I expect that the rumours will quickly cease." Even I, unfamiliar with the tones of Apes, can hear the 'Or Else" at the end of that sentence. Mr Dawes offers me his elbow, and I take it lightly, accepting his escort back to the head of the table.
"Madame," he warns me, "I will not be able to introduce you to their Highnesses today. We need to leave in a moment; we only stopped in on the way to a meeting for the infirmary I mentioned that is opening on Monday."
"Mr Dawes, that you took the time to do so at all saved me a considerable amount of effort arguing with stubborn fools. As always, your help is very much appreciated." I release his arm and give him a slight bow and nod. The Royal Apes are already by the door. Jenny, wide-eyed, is keeping out of their way, and trying very hard not to stare at them. Dawes gathers up the others, and they are off. The younger one takes a moment to bare its teeth a little and nod at Jenny and then sweeps out the door.
Jenny looks awe-struck. "The Prince of Wales just smiled at me! Closest I'll ever get to Royalty, I'll wager!" Now that one Ape may have the potential to be a leader. I must look into it more.
Nearby one of the Apes at the table is expounding to its fellows, "Now that I think of it, there's a young officer in the Cavalry who keeps going on about the mounted troops doing drill evolutions, to music. No commands, you see, just music."
"What, a kind of…. musical ride? What sort of nonsense is that? A few horse trotting around to the band?"
"Well, the ladies might like it. We could at least speak with him about it…"
I turn to Jago, and murmur, "I'm sure I can count on you to keep things suitable this time; if not. I'll be sure to hear about it and I will Take Measures."
"You have my word Vastra!" When I stiffen at the familiarity, he bares his teeth in a smile. "I mean, 'Madame Vastra.' Leave things to me, my friend, this is the opportunity of a lifetime for me."
"Very well, I leave you to it." Jago nods to me, but is quickly back speaking with the other Apes. It's time for Jenny and me to go.
I've done my best, and learned a good lesson: not everything that goes wrong is a crime, even among the Apes. I will need to learn what truly is an injustice, who really needs protecting and what is simply straight forward foolishness. I leave the Apes to their bickering.
We make our way outside, and to my surprise, we find Private Taylor leaning on the wall; close enough to keep watch, but not so close as to make me wish to gut it. Well, not too much, anyway. Inspector Abernathy is waiting as well, finally showing some interest in the tournament now that we've established that no robbery has taken place. The two Apes are speaking together quietly.
As always, Abernathy smells of cigars, and Taylor smells of pipe smoke and gunpowder, but today for some reason, I detect a new, faint smell. I wave Jenny over to me, and leaning close, quietly ask her if she sees anything amiss with Taylor or Abernathy. I can smell fresh blood.
Jenny looks both Apes over carefully, but discreetly. "Don't see any blood on their clothes," she replies quietly, "Maybe one of them nicked himself shaving, and it's under the collar, or Private Taylor skinned his knees practicing for the rifle competition. Is it a problem?"
I consider her words. "No. We'll let it go for now."
I the waiting Apes of the results of the meeting. Abernathy is relieved, and Taylor is simply satisfied that it's over. To my surprise, Taylor has a package for me as well. "Sergeant Parker mentioned you know a promising youngster who might benefit from learning single-stick." With a wink, it hands the long package to Jenny to carry, and turns back to me. "There's a note in there with the names of several clubs around the city. You might want to give the Westside Fencing Centre a miss though; they're considered a bit scandalous. It's rumoured that they even teach sword-play to women." Taylor bares its teeth, and I want to smack it.
"Now then," it continues, "you best come down to Wimbledon for the National Match finals on the sixteenth of July. You'll have a jim-dandy time. England, Scotland and Ireland will all be shooting, and the Welsh are sending a team for the first time this year! I'll put your name on the spectator's list. And be sure to bring Jenny of course!" He addresses me, but I am not so easily fooled. The Ape is still curious about Jenny.
"I think he likes you," says Jenny as Taylor strolls off.
"I'm more worried that he likes you!" I reply with a growl.
"I'm a bit young for him, I think," says Jenny with a shake of her head.
I'm sure she is. The other Apes appear to tolerate him. But Private Taylor may be keeping secrets. I want to know what, and I want to know why.
We may go to Wimbledon after all.
On Saturday, Jenny discovers that the Illustrated London News has several engravings of events at the Tournament. I shake my head, I'd seen the artist sketching in the stands from time to time, but with the coverage is too little and too late for this year.
Two days later, Mrs Brown gives Jenny an envelope addressed to me. It contains a piece of paper with the words "Draft on the Bank of Islington for Thirty Pounds Sterling," signed by Mr Maxwell, and a note that says "Thank-you for all your help. I am delighted to offer you the enclosed honorarium, and reimbursement for your expenses. Mr Jago is proving to be a God-send to the tournament. Should you ever need a reference as an investigator, please feel free to contact me." I need to consult Mr Thackeray, who as always proves to be a very intelligent Ape, and explains that the draft is a way to transfer money to us. He helps me set up what he calls 'an account' at the Bank of England. There are a great number of pieces of paper and pens and writing involved. When I protest that I have little time for such foolishness, Mr Dawes becomes involved, and by special permission, Jenny is allowed to 'deposit' funds (put money into our account) and withdraw up to ten pounds on her own signature and unlimited funds if she has a note from me. I miss most of the explanation, but Jenny is considered a 'minor' (strange, as I've never seen her digging, although she is now very knowledgeable about the underground sewers and rivers of London as a result of our previous adventure) and cannot have her own account. Jenny simply shrugs, and says to me that the six shillings a week she earns from cleaning the gin palace doesn't need an account; I can hold it just fine. That reminds me that I still need to sort out what to do with the Scorpions funds that we captured. And how to explain to Jenny that she will lose her cleaning income when we move.
A short conversation with James reveals that a bank manager would make about 175 – 200 pounds a year, so Thirty Pounds is very good for six days work.
I believe that is time to put my own plan in motion. First, though, I need to let Jenny choose her future. I admit that I am half-inclined to simply put a collar and leash on her, but I suspect that doing so would ensure that my human runs at the first chance she gets.
And from what I know of Jenny, if she doesn't get a chance to run through the normal course of events, then she will somehow create her own opportunity.
Therefore I am resolved: in the next few days, I will find the occasion to sit down with Jenny and tell her, well, as much of the truth about who and what I am as I can. That way I can control the situation. There is so much about me, about my family, my past and my…tastes that she never needs to know…
Madame Vastra's plan was excellent. However she would soon learn that the best laid plans of lizards and women go often astray...
Author's Notes:
In 1880 the Grand Tournament and Assault at Arms debuted in London and ran again in 1881. In both years it lost large amounts of money, despite interest from the Royal Family. The tournament was not well advertised, and there was not much coverage in the press, although there were several illustrations in the Illustrated London News in the July 2, 1881 edition. After the 1881 tournament, the organizers revamped the format, shortened the days from two weeks back to six days, changed how the elimination rounds worked, and reworked the evenings to provide more spectacles.
Along with other changes, The Musical Ride, a mass display of synchronised horsemanship by the Household Cavalry was introduced. This spectacle took London by storm. The Agricultural Hall was packed for the week and the future of the Grand Tournament and Assault at Arms was assured. In 1884, Queen Victoria gave assent to add the word "Royal" to the title, and the Royal Tournament then ran annually until 1999.
Much of the information on the Grand Tournament comes from several articles on the "Journal of Manly Arts" website especially "A Grand Assault-at-Arms: Tournaments and Combative Exhibitions in Victorian England" (Journal of Manly Arts: Aug 2001: Tony Wolf, part of the Electronic Journal of Martial Arts.)
John Lee Comstock M.D., (1789 – 1858) author of "A System of Natural Philosophy: Principles of Mechanics" and many other books on basic science should not be confused with Arthur Comstock, founder of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, Postal Inspector and strident opponent of, among many other things, anything related to birth control.
Jenny and the pickpockets are speaking Victorian slang. 'A bluebottle' is a policemen, 'the crushers' are the police, and 'toolers' are pickpockets. A farthing was worth one quarter of a penny. Sixpence (six pennys) is equal to half a shilling.
For the Americans in the audience, Jenny and Vastra really would call it a Cornish Pasty. 'Cornish Pastry' is the American spelling.
Yes, I really am so daft that I add footnotes and citations to my fanfiction.
Next Chapter – It's time to come clean, as Vastra learns that sometimes secrets are found out in the worst possible way.