The doll's ceramic skin felt cold to the touch, but the Mistress was not bothered. She continued to hold up the doll, stroking one gloved finger delicately along the masterfully-crafted likeness of a certain young woman's face. Wide, painted brown eyes stared back at her, expressing neither disdain nor fear, just neutrality. The strong arch of its eyebrows, the pointed tip of its nose, and the sculpted tumble of brunette locks further added to the appreciation of the doll.
Yes, thought the Mistress. Clara was such a pretty girl.
In one swift movement, she gripped the doll's head and twisted it, causing a snap to resound throughout the room. The Mistress smiled amusedly as she tossed the decapitated body aside, rolling the now-separated head in her hands.
"Such a pretty girl," she said wistfully, bringing the head up to stare directly into its eyes. "I was going to take you with me. You were my favorite. Well, second-favorite, maybe." A pause. "You were definitely in the top five."
There was a cautious knock at the door. The Mistress, vexed at being interrupted, rolled her eyes and shouted, "What?"
A man came in moments later. "Mistress," he bowed. "Everythin' is packed, as you requested."
The Mistress then smiled, standing up. She still held the doll-Clara's head in her hand. "Excellent! And the girls?"
"All of 'em 'ave been locked away, Mistress."
"Good, good… All dressed and pretty for the police. Well done, Charles."
The man bowed his head, but eyed the doll's head maliciously. "What about Clara, ma'am?"
"Hm? What about her?"
"Are you just gonna let 'er go?"
"Oh, that." The Mistress almost sounded bored. "Well… I suppose a little parting gift would do her good." She turned around, scooping the doll's body off of the floor. "I do hope she appreciates it. Oh, Charles?"
"Yes, Mistress?"
"I think it would be even better if Clara's friend gave the present. You remember Maggie, don't you?"
Charles grinned, his eyes manic. "Yes, ma'am."
"Then I assume you know what to do. It was a pleasure, Charles." She gave a little curtsy, depositing the dismembered doll into his hands. "Don't get caught." She went back to her desk to collect her things; an expensive umbrella and a carpet bag.
Charles chuckled, but it lacked his maniacal edge. "With all due respect, Mistress, I think I'm going to retire after this."
The Mistress smiled again, and strolled out of her office for the last time. The door closed, leaving the oh-so-loyal-and-murderous Charles behind. She giggled to herself, swinging her bag back and forth as she made her way to the cab awaiting her outside.
The woman sat down, and after giving the driver the okay to move, opened her bag, revealing its contents. Among various trinkets and baubles she'd stuffed in there, the most prominent item was a thick folder stuffed with news clippings and articles. She turned the folder over almost lovingly.
"Only took you a month to figure it out. You will be a fun one, I just know it. Though I do hope you plan on being more fun than my last boyfriend. He was so grumpy."
With a small chuckle, the Mistress gently placed the folder beside her. Its label faced the ceiling of the cab. In looping, elegant script, a name was spelled out on the cover.
'Dr. David Smith.'
After they'd returned from The Silent Lady the previous night, Clara and Matt insisted on returning home to 21 Aickman Road, despite the Doctor's protests that they would be much safer on Tardis Street. But they had their reasons, the main being that Craig and Sophie Owens were probably worried out of their minds about them (and this was undoubtedly true, as the Owens nearly cried when they saw the Oswalds in their doorway). So the Doctor let them return home, as long as Captain Jack escorted them there, and made them promise to come over in the morning. As he explained it, he would have a police officer at Number 10 Tardis Street, ready to start the official investigation into the brothel.
While the night had been tumultuous, with Clara suffering from terrible nightmares and Matt having to hold her to calm her down, the morning was pure chaos. And it all began with a scream.
Craig's, specifically.
The man went outside as he usually did, to go to work, but the sight that greeted him on his doorstep made his blood run cold. Naturally, he screamed, causing everyone else to run outside to see what the commotion was about.
For Matt and Clara, it was not a new sight. But it was not a welcome one, either.
Laid out on the sidewalk was another female body. Her arms were spread out like the other had been, as though she were crucified, and like her counterpart, she was beheaded and devoid of clothing. But most horrifying of all, a doll's body was laid right on top of her bare stomach, and where the head should have been lay a tiny porcelain replica- but the doll was immediately recognized by Clara. It was hers, after all.
Sophie nearly fainted on the spot, and Craig ran back inside the house to call the police. Matt, meanwhile, gripped his sister's hand as they both stared at the new horror laid out before them.
An hour later, a crowd had amassed outside 21 Aickman Road, though a barricade of policemen tried to block their view of the body. A cab pulled up eventually, containing the Doctor, Jack Harkness, Martha Jones, and an elderly man dressed in a uniform. When the policemen saw that man, they let the group pass into the house with respect.
The Doctor cast an uneasy glance at the body before entering the Owens' home. Matt was in the hallway, in the process of pacing a hole into the floor before the Doctor's arrival; the tutor looked up and was visibly relieved to see the detective.
"Matt," the Doctor said, though it was neither cheerful nor morose. "Where's Clara?"
"Sitting room," he answered. "She's answering a few questions."
"And Craig and Sophie?"
"Upstairs, taking care of their baby. He hasn't stopped crying since this morning… And neither has Clara. Doctor, that girl out there was her friend."
"The one she tried to convince last night?" spoke Jack.
"Yeah… Maggie. Clara recognized her from some birthmark on her wrist."
"Is the doll Maggie's?" asked the Doctor.
"No…" Matt almost shuddered thinking about it. "Apparently, it's Clara's."
The Doctor nodded, and turned to gesture to the elderly man that Matt did not recognize. "This is Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart. Brigadier, this is Matt Oswald."
The elderly man smiled cordially as he shook Matt's hand. Then, he spoke. "David has told me everything. I'm so sorry you and your sister have had to go through so much."
Matt managed a quiet "Thank you," before leading everyone into the sitting room. Clara was talking to a regular policeman, her eyes still red and puffy, but their conversation abruptly halted with the new arrivals. The policeman in particular stood at attention.
"Sir!" he shouted, saluting the Brigadier.
The man held up a hand. "At ease, now… If you don't mind, I'd like a chance to speak to Miss Oswald."
The policeman nodded obediently, thanked Clara for her help, and turned on his heel to march out of the room. Clara remained in her seat as the Brigadier settled into a chair. Everyone else took a seat around them, with Matt remaining faithfully close to his sister.
"Hello, Miss Oswald," the Brigadier said gently.
"Hello…" the governess muttered, glancing quickly at Matt. He smiled reassuringly at her. "And you are…?"
"My formal title is Brigadier Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart," he paused, chuckling, "but as you can imagine, that gets rather tiresome to say. Please, you may call me either the Brigadier or Sir Alistair."
"Okay," Clara exhaled.
"Now… I was originally called by David to assist you in shutting down this 'Silent Lady' establishment. As you know, we needed a statement from a witness or victim in order to arrest anyone." The Brigadier's face became sullen. "However, with this new development, it is safe to assume that there is indeed something sinister occurring at that brothel."
"So…" the young woman frowned. "You… won't be needing a statement from me?"
"Not right now. We may call you into court at a later date, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
"Oh." Clara leaned back in her chair. "So… What do we do now?"
"You? You and your family may rest easy. The police can handle the rest. Officers are headed down to The Silent Lady as we speak."
Clara let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you."
The Brigadier smiled again at her, and stood up. "I have to speak with a few of the other officers. If I may?"
Matt nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Brigadier."
As the elderly man left, the Doctor moved to occupy his empty seat. He was grinning, and Matt found it hard not to grin back.
"And thank you, Doctor. I might not have found Clara without you, Jack, or Martha."
"And Danny," Clara murmured, but she still smiled gratefully at the detective.
The Doctor beamed at their thanks. Martha rolled her eyes.
"What are you two going to do?" asked Jack Harkness. "It won't be easy to recover from this."
"Well…" The siblings cast an uneasy glance at each other. "We talked about it last night, actually. Clara and I have agreed that the city isn't the best place for us. Not yet, anyway."
The Doctor affected a puzzled expression. "Meaning…?"
"We're moving back to Leadworth," announced Clara. "As soon as this mess clears up, we'll go back to living with our uncle."
The Doctor and Jack looked shocked, but Martha had a sympathetic look on her face.
"That's perfectly understandable," the maid said. "I wouldn't want to stick around here either, after all that's happened."
Jack recovered faster than the Doctor, crossing his arms over his chest. He was smirking, but it lacked the edge it had previously. "Leaving so soon? I thought we were just getting acquainted, Mr. Oswald."
"Yes, well," Matt said in his best 'teacher' voice, "I suppose your private lessons will just have to wait."
Jack chuckled at that, but the Doctor was still frowning.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice quiet. Matt looked the Doctor in the eyes and held his gaze.
"I am. Clara needs to recover from all this, and I'll be damned if I'm not there for her."
The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. "If that's your decision…"
A few minutes later, as they all made small talk and avoided the subject of the Oswalds' imminent departure, the Brigadier reappeared in the sitting room, saying that all was taken care of. The officers had reached The Silent Lady, and a report was pending. He took his leave shortly after, as did the rest of them. Jack bid the Oswalds adieu in his typical fashion- a hug for Matt and a kiss on the hand for Clara. Martha hugged them both, and the Doctor merely shook their hands, unwilling to look at them. If Matt had to guess, the Doctor seemed almost pouty.
As Jack and Martha climbed into a cab, Matt grabbed the Doctor's sleeve and pulled him aside. The detective stared at him, in a combination of intrigue and surprise.
"Really, Doctor…" Matt smiled sincerely. "Thank you. I don't know how else to say it, but thank you so much."
At last, the Doctor allowed a small grin. "All in a day's work." Then, his smile became softer. "And… It was my pleasure."
"You're a good man... Davey."
"Oi, Matthew, don't start."
They both laughed, and the Doctor gave in to his instincts and pulled Matt into a tight hug.
"I hope Leadworth does you good," he muttered into his ear.
"I do too." They broke apart. "Goodbye, Doctor."
"Goodbye, Matt Oswald. And good luck."
A week later…
The carriage rattled noisily along the road. Matt looked to his side and was surprised to find Clara still fast asleep, leaning against the cushioned walls. They'd been traveling for a few hours now, and the increasing bumpiness of the road should have made it impossible to sleep peacefully. It was a miracle she was sleeping at all- she had a long road of trauma recovery ahead of her. But, well, Clara usually managed the impossible.
Matt stretched his legs as best as he could within the confines of the carriage, though he accidentally hit one of their bags, causing it to fall over and spill its contents. Among these was a letter, written in the Doctor's messy script. Matt picked up the letter and let his eyes wander the paper.
A few days after the Brigadier came to 21 Aickman Road, as Matt and Clara were preparing to leave for Leadworth (assisted by a teary-eyed Craig and Sophie), the Doctor had sent them a letter summarizing the police's report. It had been a shock, to hear that the Mistress had mysteriously vanished, and even more so when they discovered that the other girls were still alive. The Doctor worked with the police to return the girls to their families, but none of them had been able to tell where the Mistress had gone off to.
And apparently, the Mistress was not directly responsible for the deaths of Charlotte Andrews and Margaret Adele. The man Matt, the Doctor, and Jack had spoken to, Charles Ashden, was the real culprit. He was found at The Silent Lady, drinking the leftover ale, and confessed to the police that he'd been working with the Mistress to, as he put it, "keep the girls in line." When asked where the Mistress was currently, however, Charles pulled a gun from his pocket and silenced himself forever.
Matt felt a mix of emotions when he reread the letter. On one hand, the other girls were safe and the murderer was gone. But on the other, the mastermind behind the whole thing had gotten away. The Doctor expressed similar vexation in his postscript, hoping to one day find this Mistress and bring her to justice. Or at least make her apologize.
The tutor smiled to himself. He was going to miss Dr. David Smith, surely. Perhaps he could visit London again soon. He didn't doubt that the Doctor would have another interesting case in no time, and thus, would have an interesting story to tell.
He looked out the window, and saw the tiny village of Leadworth begin to appear. He and Clara's friends would probably be at the entrance, awaiting them anxiously, while their uncle would hang back a bit from the crowd, but still be happy to see them nonetheless. Then they'd both tackle him in a hug- though their uncle was not really the hugging type, Matt and Clara both were, so he didn't have much of a choice.
Hearing Clara rouse herself awake, Matt put away the letter and prepared himself for the upcoming reunion. For the first time in a long while, he was feeling rather optimistic.