Chapter Notes: Please allow me to whine a little bit. This current Doctor John installment has grown to gargantuan proportions causing me to do all sorts of research, this chapter may have taken the cake!
In this installment I had to study the British Court system, along with the actual procedures which I had to streamline for the sake of not getting too dry. I had to research the History of forensic science in France and discovered that placing my Chief of Police Surgeons as from there was fortuitous indeed!
I know that I probably did not dot some i's or cross some t's and I am sure someone will point that fact out to me, but I have to say that this has been my greatest writing challenge so far! I have so many plot lines and supplemental characters in this particular fourth installment that I am feeling a bit overwhelmed to be honest...but man is it turning out to be everything I hoped it to be!
This was actually going to be the first chapter in Doctor John series without Doctor John, whom we know was drugged by a well meaning Mrs. Hudson at the close of the last chapter just to get him to rest. (what a stubborn ass!) But I had to include a tag which I am glad I did, because in someways this was Lestrade's version of Chapter four in the first book. I find it hilarious that Lestrade is such a tight arse with his feelings that it takes talking to an unconscious man to really open up LOL!
anyway I hope you get some enjoyment out of this!
Bart
BTW: Chevalier C. Aguste Dupin belongs to the great Egdar Allen Poe and the rest belong to ACD...except my OC's which are mine.
thanks!
Doctor John Watson, Police Surgeon: Scotland Yard 4
The Frozen Image
Chapter Seven
The court was in session.
The cryer finished with his traditional call, the judge entered and they took their seats. The crowded gallery included reporters, Lestrade picked out both Trollop and Weems among the note takers, and from the expensive clothing and perfumes some members of the upper class. This situation was rapidly growing out of hand, even if Eads got his necktie at the close of the week, there would be a lot of onlookers and publicity. Lestrade wondered if this was not all part of Alister's plan, if he was going to hang he wanted the world watching.
Judge Burkett was a small nervous looking fastidious man, who had quick limpid dark eyes and a neatly clipped greying beard. He quickly called for the first case and got right to work.
The evening session, almost entirely cleared with other matters before the court called and dispatched to other days leaving the matter of The People versus Alister Eads concerning the Petition to Postpone Execution Indefinitely, sole business at hand.
Lestrade was seated behind Payne, Hopkins was beside him reciting facts under his breath, Bradstreet had insisted on coming in support, his bear like presence a comfort to his slender partner. St. Cloud sat on the other side of Bradstreet inscrutable and grave.
Gregson, absent because he was left in charge of the Yard, Patterson adjourned home, but offered to return tomorrow and help with the investigation, the other inspectors and constables went about the business of policing the city.
Lestrade leaned in to speak with Payne motioning for Hopkins to listen in. "So what is our plan of attack?"
Payne had an excited glint in his eye, a man completely in his element, his wig was simple and had seen better days, but Eoin wore it as if it were his real hair. "They chose a talented barrister, but he is very young and aggressive, his tact will be to discredit methods and call competence into doubt, young Hopkins here needs to be exact and leave no room for discrediting. The case against Alister Eads is just as air tight as it was when we first brought before the court; the burden belongs to them if we leave no room."
Lestrade reached out a hand and gave Hopkins a squeeze. "You have a natural feel for politics, Stanley, use that against them, this is going to turn into a point counter point debate, I'll wager, you are more than qualified."
Payne nodded eagerly, "Do not lose your head, speak your mind, if he becomes rude and argumentative, which will most likely be his tact, take him on with evidence not conjecture, he cannot refute fact."
Hopkins was pale, but he managed to nod. Lestrade realized that the young man was growing into the new moustache; it was no longer a comical attempt at homage, but a legitimate growth that gave him a more adult gravitas. Lestrade had no doubts about the young man's mind.
While not the best Scotland Yard investigator, Stanley remembered facts and reproduced them better than anyone else in the force. If the fight ahead was one of concrete evidence, there was no better man in London to go to war.
"Counsellors, are you ready to proceed?" Judge Burkett called in his light tenor voice.
"We are prepared, your Honour," Eoin called with a note of satisfied confidence.
The other barrister was a young man, with a fresh face under the perfect, elaborate horsehair wig, he stood, he swept his eyes over the assemblage opposing with poorly disguised contempt. "We protest the suddenness of this hearing, your Honour; we request a recess until such a time as our case can be better assembled."
Burkett's piercing gaze locked onto the younger man's. "Since it has been brought to my attention that you filed a motion in Civil Court for this afternoon, then you obviously felt you had enough to proceed today, at least over there. If you have a case worthy of this Court's attention, then it should be quickly and easily gathered, it is only an argument that is based more in posturing and conjecture that needs time to convalesce, at least I have found it to be so. By asking for a continuance, you are causing me to presuppose that there is a need for fabrication, which does not bode well for your client. Is the request for prolongation still worth lodging? Or are we ready to carry on?"
"Counsellor Victor Reese for the petitioners, your Honour, we are ready to proceed."
Burkett nodded. "Call your first witness, Counsellor Payne."
Lestrade enjoyed that opening salvo more than he would have ever thought. He had to give Payne credit, Burkett was everything he said he would be, a man who governed with equanimity and verve, a man beholden to no one and impartial to all classes in his courtroom.
Payne advanced to the podium and led Hopkins through the specifics of the case against Eads, from the first murder to his final kill, the investigations, evidence and events surrounding. Hopkins was like a steam driven machine with his ever-present pad in hand, any question put to him, effortlessly handled.
Lestrade glanced to the side to see Bradstreet's chest swell with pride at his partner's competence. When Hopkins was first given his appointment to Inspector, Lestrade had paired the two hoping that Bradstreet's street smarts and organic style would loosen the younger man up to a less by the book approach, even he was surprised when the two men became fast friends.
Not the mentor/student relationship that Lestrade had anticipated, instead, they both learned from each other and soon where cross investigating, and consulting when one hit a snag.
Payne's questioning was drawing to a close, Payne made a notation in his own notes, then asked a question which Lestrade was confused by.
"Inspector Hopkins, are you content with the knowledge that the man due to dangle at the end of a noose day after next is the man who committed these heinous crimes?"
Lestrade hissed through his teeth. Payne had opened up the line of questioning that would lead to the introduction of the new crime scene and the presence of a possible accomplice.
Hopkins gave the man a questioning glance, but recovered. "I, with absolutely no reservation, consider Alister Eads the only culprit in these five murders."
Lestrade expected Payne to redirect or shore up the breach he just created, but the man nodded at the answer. "No more questions your honour."
Burkett nodded and directed Reese to cross-examine.
Victor Reese looked as if he the petition was already his. He glanced at Payne in a pitying manner as if to say, The Old Red Fox has lost it.
Lestrade was equally convinced of Payne's loss of mentality, but he did see that little smile that Payne was still wearing as he took his seat stroking his beard.
"Inspector Hopkins, was there, or was there not, a similar murder committed just this morning, with the same modus as the Red Tear Stranglings while Alister Eads remained safely ensconced in Newgate Prison?"
Hopkins had to confirm.
"And yet you remained convinced that Eads should hang for these murders, when in fact there is still a killer out there using the same methodology?"
Hopkins did not hesitate. "Yes, I remain convinced."
Reece shot the Judge a look to show just how ridiculous the officer was being. "Are you denying the evidence that these cases have a connection?" he asked exasperated.
Hopkins shook his head. "No, they definitely have a connection."
Reese smiled shooting Payne a triumphant glance. "So by all means, tell the court why you remain so convinced, in the face of another murder which you confirm is connected to the earlier ones attributed to Eads?"
Bradstreet was quietly praying to himself, but Lestrade was finally seeing the trap.
Hopkins smiled. "Alister Eads was captured dumping the body of his last victim; he was viewed by constables dripping his own blood on her face from his own hand which was the trademark we held back from official records. Once accosted, he surrendered immediately and proceeded to confess to all the murders, he had a handmade garrotte on his person that matched the tool marks on the ribbons that strangled all five victims. He took us to the address where he took his victims and we found items from all five there.
This latest murder varied in method, location, and pathology which means that if the newest murder was committed by the perpetrator of the others, he changed into someone else entirely, which is even more outlandish than if Eads learned to walk through walls."
Hopkins actually smiled wider when he made the last point. "The only way for the case against Mister Eads to be more perfect is if he had pulled up in front of Scotland Yard itself, whistled for everyone to come out and strangled a victim right there in front of us all. Every single detail in his many confessions matched all evidence collected. Alister Eads is convinced he is the killer, and is rather proud of his accomplishments, we at the Yard are convinced, I cannot fathom the amount of proof it would take to convince you as well since you seem determined to ignore the obvious."
Reese clearly shaken turned to the judge, "Your Honour I wish that last statement stricken from the record since it was a personal attack and not testimony."
Burkett was clearly amused. "Duly noted, and it will be so stricken. Anymore questions for this witness?"
"No your honour," Reese said as he made his way back to his table. He did not look as triumphant now.
"Redirect?" Burkett asked politely.
"No further questions for this witness, your Honor," Payne replied with a chuckle in his voice.
Lestrade had to smile, as they accepted Hopkins back into their number with some backslaps and congratulations. Reese was so eager to follow up on the obvious avenue offered that he never stopped to realize that alone, the facts of the case were just that, facts, but by allowing Hopkins to place them in proper context, the size of the case became more apparent.
Old Red Fox indeed!
St. Cloud was next to the stand. Even though Lestrade had his share of conflicts with the large Frenchmen, he had to admit, when you put the man into a nice French cut suit, he was formidable looking indeed.
St. Cloud recounted all the details from the previous cases in uncomfortably nauseating detail, Payne seemed to follow every line of questioning that would bring out the most graphic detail. Lestrade thought that the man was attempting to show just how violent those murders were so when they gave details of the latest body, the difference would be more obvious.
Sure enough, Payne brought up Genny Bisset and St. Cloud began to recount the findings, to Lestrade's astonishment, the man gave full credit to Doctor Watson as well, including the observations about the nature of this latest murder and the contrast in pathology.
Once again Payne opened up a line of questioning that Lestrade thought should have been left closed, "In your personal opinion, as an well educated coroner, where the first crimes committed by the perpetrator of this latest murder?"
St. Cloud's answer was quick and adamant, "No, zir, they were not."
"Payne looked up. "No further questions for this witness your Honour." He left the podium with a curious little smile on his face. Lestrade had no idea why he looked so pleased, almost smug.
To his credit, Victor Reese eyed Payne with suspicion before he began his attack.
The attacks were mostly on methodology, which St. Cloud fielded easily, then Reese moved onto Doctor Watson and his qualifications, to Lestrade's surprise St. Cloud defended the man, and his one time rival, with equal vigour.
Payne was leaning forward like a hunter who has laid a snare for the unwary rabbit.
Reese spun back to the Police Surgeon. "You gave a stranger off the streets, who has no official training in forensic science or methodology, full credentials that take some men years to earn, what makes you qualified to make such a leap in judgement?"
Lestrade saw Payne give a quick fist pump of victory.
"Am I qualified to make such a judgement?" St. Cloud asked in an imperious tone that in times past had caused Lestrade to grit his teeth but now gave him reason to root for the officious Frenchman.
"I graduated from L'Ecole Normale Superieure at ze top of my class. It iz a school known worldwide for itz zientific achievement, Louis Pasteur taught and performed his experimentz there, doez he zound familier? Picked to join ze Paris, Institut des sciences judiciaries, ze foremost leaderz of Forenzic développement in ze world, I trained under ze eye of Alphonse Bertillion himzelf. You may not know, but he iz called ze Father of Criminal enquête... Pardonnez-moi...investigation.
Iz Doctor John Watzon compétent? He iz one of ze most capable investigatorz I ave met, and I waz once acquainted with Chevalier C. Aguste Dupin.
Doctor Watzon's former acquaintance, Sherlock 'olmes, taught him obzervational techniquez zat I ave never zeen before, beyond zat, he haz tête-à-têtes wit ze dezeased zat borderz on necromancy, in all my yearz I ave zeen nothing like eet."
St. Cloud's hard cold eyes bored into the Counselor's. "I azk you, Jeune homme, are my qualifications suffisante?"
In the silence that followed, Victor Reese nodded. "No more questions, your honour."
The gallery chuckled as Bradstreet, Hopkins and Lestrade exchanged glances.
"Did you know?" Lestrade murmured. Bradstreet and Hopkins shook their heads. Payne turned enough to give Lestrade a wink.
Lestrade had to laugh. "Payne did. Looks like Counsellor Reese just went to school."
---
The rest of the proceedings and the perfunctory closing statements made, they waited for the judge to leave to make his deliberations, however they were in for a surprise.
"At this time, I am ready to make a ruling," Burkett remarked. "While Scotland Yard has shown just cause, and have established their conclusions admirably, there is the issue of a man's life at stake in this matter. I will have to postpone the execution."
The other party let out a sudden exclamation of victory, while Lestrade began to curse under his breath using words that Bradstreet glowered at with deep reproach.
"However," the judge continued, "I give Scotland Yard until the closing of my last session tomorrow to come up with this accomplice, if he is in custody and willing to give testimony to Eads actual involvement, then I will rule that the execution proceed as scheduled. That is all."
They all stood as Burkett left in a flurry of black robes.
Lestrade and the Yarders stared at the group who were triumphantly chatting with one another while the reporters closed in for interviews. Agatha Weems gave Lestrade a penitent look before she stepped in with the group.
Payne pursed his lips. "Burkett's ruling was fair, anyone else would not have given us the grace period, and Benedict would have released the bastard."
Lestrade nodded. Hopkins looked dejected. "How are we going to find the accomplice by tomorrow, Giles, if Eads doesn't swing Friday, they will have plenty of time to get that case with Benedict put through."
Lestrade nodded that he understood, his mind was a jumbled mess, he needed to go home to Clea to straighten out, after this day, he could use one of her shoulder rubs.
"Doctor Watzon will figure zis out, I am conviced of eet." St. Cloud interjected.
Lestrade sighed. "If we had a week we might have come up with the accomplice doing old fashioned police work, but to have him here tomorrow, that's going to take a miracle."
"Then we'll just pray for a miracle." Bradstreet replied with a steady confidence. Lestrade gave him a tired smile.
---
As tired as Lestrade was, he had one more stop to make before he could go home. He stopped by Scotland Yard and found a packet of photos on his desk meant for Doctor Watson, copies of all of the five previous victims and a shot of a deceased Genny Bisset that took his breath when he saw it.
I hope these help.
Rollins
Lestrade took the packet with him, after checking with Gregson and filing in the rest of the Yarders on the results of the trial; he hopped into a cab and headed for Baker Street.
---
The incongruity of this situation hit him as he disembarked in front of that familiar fascia. He was almost sure he heard a phantom violin committing acts against musicality, or saw a billowing cloud of foul pipe smoke emanating from that upstairs window. He only came here as a last resort, and he always felt this kernel of hope when he climbed those stairs, a hope that the mind that resided in that second floor apartment would be able to pierce the conundrum and give him a solution.
Now here he was, once again facing a situation that looked hopeless, one in which he needed answers and rather quickly, but there was no towering intellect up those stairs. Just a very ill, man who Lestrade had come to call friend who he wished he could leave alone to recover.
He rang the bell; Mrs. Hudson answered it with a glower.
"Chief Inspector, I believe I mentioned that John is going to be out until tomorrow sometime?" she reminded in a dangerous tone.
Lestrade held up the packet. "Mrs. Hudson, would that I could allow John time to recover, but if we don't find an answer by tomorrow evening, a very evil man will be loosed upon society by a group of well meaning fools. John is the only person I know who might have a chance to stop it."
She was wiping her hands on a rag; she turned to the side to allow him inside, then turned and bellowed up the stairs, "Algon, its Chief Inspector Lestrade, try not to damage him." She turned back to Lestrade, "Go on up."
Lestrade paused. "So, you know he's dangerous?"
She rolled her eyes. "Of course he's dangerous; you get to be around a lot of scary persons when you've got Mister Holmes under your roof. Algon is only dangerous to anyone who would harm Doctor Watson; he's really a sweet young man otherwise."
She left a dubious Lestrade to his careful ascension of the stairs.
He reached the top and turned into the familiar sitting room to find that Algon was eating an apple, he was using the knife from Holmes's mantel to peel it with rather frightening aptitude.
"Wotcher got there, mate?" he asked eating a slice.
Lestrade held out the packet very carefully. "These are the photographs that Watson asked for."
Mayweather studied him as a tiger would a potential meal. "What transpired at the hearin?"
Lestrade told him all the salient details while he continued to eat his apple.
Mayweather grasped the importance immediately. "Do you have anyone else who can figure this?"
Lestrade hated to admit it. "Not in the time allowed. There are gaps in our information that would take weeks of legwork to resolve, we need someone who can see the whole picture without most of the pieces, John does that better than anyone I know right now."
Mayweather nodded. "I will make sure he gets them as soon as he's up."
Lestrade gave him the packet. "How is he?"
"He's still got a fever, I changed his dressings...bloke didn't even stir. Missus Hudson gave him enough drops to put a stallion down."
Lestrade knew that Watson was not awake but he felt a need to check on his friend.
Mayweather seemed to read his intent.
"He's up the stairs, Misus Hudson's insistence; she assured me he would not be comfortable waking in the one down here. Feel free to stay as long as you like."
Lestrade nodded and ascended the stairs; he opened the room door and saw that the room, lit by the early evenings dying sun, was dust free and the sheets on the bed, recently laundered. The bedside table, covered with various implements needed to care for someone ill, and in the middle of it, was John Watson on his side sound asleep.
There was a chair beside the bed, Lestrade pulled it over and sat near his friend.
He watched in silence, he knew it was an odd, disconcerting thing to do, but he felt some affection for this weary man and watching over him while he slept did not seem that out of form.
"We have done all we could do to forestall them, John, but we only have until tomorrow."
He sighed and leaned back in the chair absently twisting his hat brim in his hands. "Alister beat us, John, he beat us solid for months, but we didn't have you then."
More to himself than the sleeping man, Lestrade remarked. "If you don't find a way to this accomplice, Eads walks, if Eads walks, more women die."
He reached out and rested a hand on John's shoulder and went to the door, before he left he turned one last time. "You asked me one time if I could learn to trust you..." Lestrade paused tapping his fingers against his hat brim, and then continued, "I've only ever trusted Clea, and that took years, but I know beyond a doubt, if anyone can find this accomplice...it will be you. Sleep tight and get well, I miss my right arm...my...friend."
Lestrade closed the door and leaned on it. "Please, John, do get well."
He replaced his hat and descended.
Story Notes: As it happens, France is responsible for many advancements in forensic science. Alphonse Bertillion was real, C Aguste Dupin was not. However, Dupin is considered the first Detective character, indeed the genre did not exist before Murders in the Rue Morgue, which makes him at the very least the father of Sherlock Holmes. Since we are dwelling in the dual world of ACD where a fictitious character can write his own adventures and publish as himself, then adding Dupin in was not too far of a stretch!
That being said, I am as shocked as anyone that Doctor Georges St. Cloud turned out to be tolerable!
I wonder if he learned that smack down technique from Doctor Watson? I rather think he did. :)
Bart