Chapter Two:
Party Invitation
The Crossroads:
Some time later, with the elders now riding back to Shadowbrook – Inspector Cooke returned to speak with Sergeant Allardyce. Cooke made sure that they were alone – with no one else in earshot, before he spoke.
"Found out anything, sergeant?"
Allardyce gave a nod and led his superior along a narrow wooded trail leading north from the road, giving his report as they walked.
"Someone slipped in the mud on the road, sir. I found a mark in the nearby cowpat, as though someone had landed into it. Not heavily – possibly just their arm…
"There are spots of blood along here," Cooke observed, crouching down to examine the ground."
"That's right, sir. Now look into this pond."
Taking care with his footing, Cooke descended the sharp slope from the trail to the small pond, and examined the water. It was discolored with a reddish-brown stain in places – and there were clear signs that someone had jumped into the pond from the direction of the trail, before staying for a while in the nearby undergrowth on the far side. Some of the leaves were missing from a low branch.
"So – someone landed in the muck, probably during the animal attack. And then they fled, injured, from the scene?" Cooke suggested. "Perhaps he bathed his wound, and used the leaves as a makeshift bandage?"
Allardyce leered. "He wouldn't have been pleasant quarry for this…beast…to track down, with that stink – blood marks or not, sir. But by the time he had his wash… Well, his wet footprints carry on towards the brook before drying up…"
"…giving him another chance to wash his scent. It seems as though we still have a living witness. Good work, my man! We had better get a map of the area, sergeant. And see if the brook can be crossed further on. Mr Summersby and some of the militia are still at both scenes of the murders – let us see if they can assist us track this missing man of ours."
Allardyce straightened himself to attention. "Both scenes of the murders, sir?"
Cooke sighed. "Let me tell you about the woman Major Bruckner and the elders found. And what else I saw there. I have already issued orders to the militia …"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Olde Woods:
Karl Harrison emerged from his tree cover as the guard left on duty disappeared to relieve himself.
Having left his knapsack and water behind the trees, he was able to move silently across the clearing. Indeed, silence was the watchword. Even at this late part of October, he had expected there to be some birds present to make occasional noises– but the woods seemed to be bleak, almost dead.
Just as well it's daylight. I cannot make many observations in the dark…, he thought to himself as he stroked his beard. One of the bodies had been taken away on a stretcher by the militia just as he had arrived on the scene. But the other covered form was still here…
Karl pulled it back, and beheld the crawling statue image of Samuel Shaw. Startled and mesmerized, he examined it carefully – right down to the detail of the clothes and the hands…
"What do yur thin' yur playing at?" came the gruff voice behind him.
Karl turned round – and raised his hands above his head at the sight of the guard's pistol being aimed at him.
"My apologies, sir." Karl smiled, fighting to keep his demeanor calm despite the unexpected quick return of the armed man. "I was just traveling through, when I heard the commotion. I was just having a look at this statue…"
"Keep yur hands off it! How long 'ave you been sneaking about?"
"Jus' a few minutes. I saw him arrive. In fact he came with me!" A reedy voice spoke out behind the guard, who turned round and took in the small man with the brown-colored jacket and pants, and white tunic. Slung over his right shoulder and hanging by his left hip was a circular knapsack – whilst slung in the opposing manner was a softer satchel for storing documents. The newcomer's brown hair was pulled back from his forehead and tied into a short knot at the back. The most prominent feature about him, however, was…
"Quit lookin' at my damn eye!" he bristled.
The guard stepped back, startled at the other man's face. There was a vivid scar running down from the shorter fellow's forehead which ended at his cheek. The left eye was dead – the pupil turned upwards as to be nearly invisible, leaving the white area exposed…
Recovering his wits, the guard tightened his grip on his gun. "No trespassers are allowed here! Who are you men?" With his free hand, he reached for the whistle hanging around his neck.
"Relax. We're nobody." The short man gave a crooked grin, and opened his hand to reveal several coins. "Now – what did your friends just take away?"
The guard slowly lowered his gun and stared at the offered money. He huffed and eventually came to a decision.
"Thomas…," Karl started to rebuke the one-eyed man.
But Thomas ignored him and dropped the coins into the open hand of the militia guard, who counted them. Nodding with satisfaction, he pocketed his unexpected gain.
"It was the body of a dead woman. I recognized her. Just about. Name of Agnes Agnew," the guard muttered.
"Just about?" Karl frowned.
The guard described the state of her body which he had seen before the blanket had arrived to cover her up.
"Dear Lord… And what is the story behind this statue?" Karl pressed the man.
"Found right where it is now. Jus' a few feet from the woman. The Inspector has ordered for a stout cart to come here and carry it back to town. Jus' waiting for it now. The other bodies are being taken away…"
Karl felt a shiver run through him. "What other bodies?"
The now-silent guard glanced meaningfully at Thomas, who grinned at Karl.
"Your turn, matey." Thomas patted his pouch as a hint.
Sighing, Karl pulled out some coins and gave them to the guard, who raised his free hand to the brim of his tricorn hat in acknowledgement. He then told the intruders all that he knew regarding the discovery of the bodies of Eli Bunt and Richard Shaw.
"This statue is a dead ringer for Rick's brother, Samuel. Why anyone would want 'im to pose for art, I ain't got a clue. Rather it'd been a young lady's statue to admire - if you get my drift, gentlemen," the guard concluded as he fingered his pistol again, making it clear that the conversation was now over. "Good day to you, sirs."
Karl nodded, turned and followed Thomas over to where he was keeping their two horses. Deciding to walk them back to the road before riding back to Shadowbrook, Thomas started the conversation.
"I told you summutt was up when I passed by earlier from Tidewater!"
"Yes – and I am glad that you told me when you arrived," Karl answered back. "I was waiting for you to show up, when that pair of thieves distracted me."
"You mean that female outlaw distracted you? Only to later sweep you off your feet, literally!" Thomas cackled. "And so she escaped you. You're too much of a gentleman, Karl!"
"And you are still too much of a ruffian, Thomas Harrow. And yet, you are making me stoop to your level. If we are so willing to bribe that man, then who else will do so?"
"Hah! You an' your honor. Greed is a fact of life, friend," Thomas shot back. "And if you're fretting 'bout the money we have left, I can always open this sealed letter I picked up last night, and sell the information to those who'll pay well. I can make it look like the Scarlet Shadow mugged me for it…"
"That won't work," Karl rebuked him.
"Why not?"
"Because the Scarlet Shadow was the thief who was captured by the authorities this morning!"
"Huh! I'll think of another excu-"
"Just do your job, Thomas, and deliver your sealed message to the manor," Karl sighed. Suddenly he stopped, and held up his hand. "Listen!"
The scared man was silent for a few moments. "What? I can't hear nuffin'"
"You can't hear anything, you mean! That is it! There's still no birdsong. I have heard no birds all this time we have been here."
"Flown south already for the winter, 'ave they?"
"No! I saw birds flying around the town," Karl hissed. "There's more to this. Something has scared them away from these woods. The scent of death, perhaps. Those unnatural deaths."
Thomas nervously licked his lips. Then he asked, "So what you think was responsible for those three folk gettin' killed?"
"I do not know yet," Karl mused. "But I think we have got possibly the most dangerous case we have yet encountered, old friend. I hope that Inspector and his sergeant are open-minded enough to deal with what they might find…"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Shadowbrook:
"Inspector… Sergeant… This is Harlow Morgan – who I understand is our local inventor. Mr Morgan – let me introduce you to Inspector Cooke and Sergeant Allardyce from the authorities in Boston," announced Captain Townsend. "They need somewhere to store this statue – and I believe that you are the most likely choice when it comes to storage spaces, yes?"
The little, bespectacled, egg-faced man with the overgrown sideburns had remembered to stop and take off his chemical-stained gloves before shaking hands with his unexpected visitors. However, he looked with concern upon the concealed statue on the cart through the doorway of the rented warehouse.
"Oh…, must you bring that in here?" he fussed, flapping one hand in the air in agitation as if it was a miniature bird wing. "I am starting to run out of space with my equipment and supplies, see?" Cooke noted that the inventor spoke with a trace of an accent that he was not familiar with. English? No. But at its core it was not American. So he had to have crossed the Atlantic within the last ten years, Cooke told himself.
The Inspector looked around at the disheveled workspace. It was cluttered with all sorts of odds and ends, some of them resting on the last remains of the straw which had otherwise been cleared out from the warehouse. The ventilated end of the building was home to wooden workbenches upon which stood a Bunsen burner, test tubes and sealed chemical samples next to a microscope and an assortment of flasks and connecting tubes. Elsewhere, a variety of guns and cartridges lay besides nets made of a flexible material, and stacks of boxes containing…whatever.
Cooke snapped his fingers, as the answer to the inventor's accent came to him. "Ahh… Of course, Morgan… You were born in Wales, sir!"
"That I was, Inspector. I take it, by contrast, that you are a native Colonial?"
Cooke nodded. "Boston born and bred, sir. You arrived on these shores with your family?"
"I did… But I am a lone traveler now. I have decided to reside here."
Captain Townsend joined the conversation. "Mr Morgan has been with us for about half a year now. He has been attempting to work on various…things…to improve our lot. His devices have helped to deliver quicker ways of boiling water. And his candles…they have been proven to last longer than what we had already." The Captain smiled. "I am just not as sure as to the reliability of some of his more outlandish, mechanical devices."
Harlow cast a hurt look at him, his nose winkling. "I am learning from my mistakes, Captain Townsend. That net gun nearly worked on the last try…"
"Well, Mr Morgan," Cooke interrupted. "We are busy men. Your skills may be of use to us as we investigate this case. If you agree to do so, and allow us to keep this statue in your care…" He looked meaningfully across to Sergeant Allardyce.
"…we will financially reward you," Allardyce concluded, not missing a beat.
Harlow's eyes lit up – and Cooke smiled. He had already worked out the man's main practical need when it came to carrying out his work.
"Oh, well… In that case, gentlemen, I would be happy to be of public assistance. But…what is this case you are working on?"
"I cannot tell you much at this stage, Mr Morgan. What I will say is that two men and a woman, died last night… In the vicinity of the olde woods."
"A woman…? How did she die…? I mean… Dear god! How did these people die?" Harlow stuttered.
"The men were slaughtered by some wild creature. The woman… We don't know how it was done." Cooke stroked the end of his goatee beard.
"Do you know of anyone around here who would create a life-sized statue of a local man, Mr Morgan?" Allardyce grunted.
"Why, no! But…bring it in here."
Inspector Cooke turned to the two guards still with the cart and nodded to them. Allardyce stepped out to assist with the heavy load.
Minutes later, as his visitors departed, Harlow Morgan pulled back the cover to the statue of the screaming man. His jaw dropped.
"My word…!"
Harlow tugged absent-mindedly on the end of the lace draped over his shirt. He could take samples of the stone. Yes. See if it resembled the local rocks. But he had other work to see to as well, he reminded himself. Important work. If only he had…
He groaned and scratched the wide bald patch on the top of his head. So many things to do, and so little time…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Manor:
Having recovered from the minor bump to her head (which had needed nothing more than a wet rag and witch hazel to treat it) Isabella von Took, had just finished the unpacking of the cases with the aid of her handmaiden, when they heard the horse pull up outside the manor.
Rising from the side of the four-poster bed in her guest bedroom, Isabella strode to the window. She saw the scar-faced man with his unsightly dead eye climb down from his horse, as the young groom tended to the frisky animal. Engaging briefly in conversation that failed to penetrate the closed window, the visitor then parted from the groom and entered the manor through the servants' quarters. Just before he disappeared from her sight, Isabella saw the ugly newcomer remove an envelope from his satchel. Her keen eyes glimpsed the red seal.
A courier… How interesting.
She made a decision. Telling Heidi to go to her room and see to her own cases, Isabella glided out of her room and onto the landing. Checking both ways along the second floor landing for anyone other than Heidi now disappearing through the next doorway along, the Dutch noblewoman descended partway down the wide, circular staircase with its polished wooden banister – making a point of appraising the portraits of the Hanbrook family, in case anyone came along and caught sight of her.
Ah. Here he is…
The courier, accompanied by the butler, Hargreaves, walked into the spacious hallway – in the wake of Lord Hanbrook himself, who looked serious. The latter stopped at a door that was just visible when Isabella crouched down on the staircase. Taking out a key from the inner pocket of his coat, his lordship unlocked the door – and he gestured for the courier to pass over the sealed envelope.
"Here you go, sir," the reedy-voiced, scarred man declared as he complied.
"Thank you, Mr Harrow. Both of you may go. Escort him out, Hargreaves."
"Yes, sir."
Isabella quickly rose and hurried back upstairs before she could be seen. Then she entered Heidi's room without knocking, startling her from the clothes she was placing in the set of drawers.
"Oh, 'tis you, vhy lady…"
"I apologize for unnerving you, Heidi. But I have a special task for you." Isabella pursed her lips before continuing. "A discreet task."
Heidi rose to attention and placed her hands together in front of her. "I am here to serve, vhy lady," she announced meekly. "How can I help?"
"Good. I was intrigued by what the schoolmistress had to tell me about certain…happenings in, and around, this town," Isabella began. "And in my conversation with Lady Hanbrook, when we had tea upon our arrival, she has grudgingly admitted that there have been killings of livestock and deer in the fields and woods in recent weeks. But from Lord Hanbrook's demeanor, I think something further has happened. I want you to mingle with the other servants here – especially the maids – and find out what is going on. Report back to me tonight, understood?"
Heidi's round face bobbed as she nodded. "Yes, Madam Isabella."
Leaving Heidi to finish her packing, Isabella then decided upon her next move as she returned to the carpeted landing. They were to stay at Hanbrook Manor for the next few days, upon the invitation of her friend Lady Josette Hanbrook. The party would be tomorrow night. Today's evening meal would be at six o'clock. There would be time to explore the grounds…
Stepping outside, Isabella walked along the stone balcony that looked out upon the well-kept lawns and gardens set to the rear of the manor. To one corner of the grounds lay a hedge-maze, with the tops of the 'walls' having reached about head height. Her head height anyway, Isabella estimated, as she walked out onto the paths around the gardens. The fountain was still – but no doubt it would be flowing freely again by tomorrow night.
To her right-hand side, the manor continued a little further before the rear-left corner of the south-facing building linked with the north wing. This was joined to the rest of the manor by a single-storey corridor – but the north wing itself was dilapidated and in need of repair, especially to the roof and second storey. From her previous correspondence with her ladyship, the work on the north wing extension had not finished, when an earth tremor had struck, just months ago – and with cracks appearing in part of the new building, the surveyors had been called back to assess the damage. They had reported that the land underneath still seemed to be stable. But Lord Hanbrook was now running out of money for the repairs and upkeep of his home. At the same time, the new maid had to be put somewhere – so into the cracked north wing she went. The other few rooms, still bare, could not be used until his lordship had built up his finances once more…
Speaking of whom…
Isabella hid behind one of the stone posts that bore a stone griffin on top. The new maid – who had come to serve at Hanbrook Manor earlier in the year – was now carrying laundry in her hands as she walked out from the kitchen and headed towards a door on the side of the north wing. She opened the door, and then closed it behind her.
Let us deal with this one directly. I doubt that Heidi has already talked to her…
And so with her usual fearlessness, Isabella von Took strode over to the entrance door – only to find that it was now locked. She paused, guided by her instinct. There had been something furtive about the black woman's apprehensive glances at the gathering gray clouds in the sky and at the woods surrounding the rear of the grounds.
Instead of knocking, Isabella decided to spy on her quarry through the windows to her ground-floor room.
The maid had put her laundry basket down – and was now kneeling, cross-legged on the floor, pulling up at a pair of loose floorboards. When there was enough space, she pulled out a wooden box from within and unlocked it, using a key hidden in a pocket on her servant's dress. Closing her eyes and keeping very still for what seemed like a minute, the maid then emptied the contents of the box onto the floor before her.
What? Bones…!?
And indeed they were. Animal bones, Isabella soon realized, judging by the size and structure of what appeared to be the skeletal remains of forelegs and rear legs. From her angled perspective of the maid, the black servant seemed to be talking to herself as she opened her eyes and shifted the bones with her fingers.
After a minute, the maid suddenly seemed to come out of her trance-like frame of mind. Her hands gathered up the bones and scooped them back into the box. With the now-locked container placed again underneath the prized floorboards, the woman pressed them back down so they level with the rest of the wooden floor. She quickly got back up upon her feet, and…
Drawing in her breath sharply, Isabella backed away from the window before the maid could turn around and see her there.
"There you are, Isabella!" a familiar voice called out to her.
Jumping with fright, she gave a relieved gasp as she turned around and saw a smiling Lady Hanbrook walking along the pathway towards her.
"Admiring our gardens, I see…"
"Indeed." Isabella moved away from the north wing. "A shame about the damage done to this building, though."
Lady Hanbrook's expression turned sour. "It is only Delani who resides in it… Oh, she is respectful and efficient enough in her duties, but… Well. She is descended from slaves. It has sadly become a case of taking whatever workers happen upon us – instead of having a choice."
Isabella raised a thin eyebrow. "I see. But…did you not hire her, yourself?"
"That was dear George's decision. Not mine. Delani was prepared to work for less than our existing maid, Selena – and so… But no matter. Let me show you the maze, and let us talk of other matters, dear Issy. No one else will be in there."
Once in the maze, Lady Hanbrook smiled and allowed Isabella to decide which way to go. Turning left at the first T-junction led to a dead end – and so the two noblewomen turned round and headed back the other way, with Isabella again choosing to go left, instead of straight on at the next junction. This time the path taken proved to be more promising as they arrived at a crossroads. Jabbing her raised finger at each new path as she muttered to herself, Isabella eventually took the right-hand path, which reached the east wall of the maze and twisted to the left before another fork appeared. And so, after a few wrong turns, they reached the square at the heart of the maze, and sat on the wooden bench set next to the sundial. A couple of birds, which were drinking from a small pond at the foot of the sundial, took off and disappeared at the approach of the women.
"You did well there, Issy. Better than I when I first attempted this maze," Lady Hanbrook declared, relaxing into her old informal manner now that they were out of sight and earshot of others. Her haughty features turned serious as her gloved hand fiddled with a loose strand of her curled dark-ginger hair. "I am sorry to hear of your Johan's passing. If I had known sooner…"
Isabella shook her head. "No matter, Josette. He was lost at sea. So the funeral was with an empty coffin. And our marriage… That too, had felt empty for some years – as you already know."
"So you are past grieving now – if you had grieved at all?"
"I was fond of him…in my way. And his death came as a shock," Isabella considered. "But now… Now I feel freer than I have ever been. No husband. No parents. And I have Johan's wealth." She focused on her friend. "So, your own relationship with George is…stable, you said earlier. And what of Lucy? Is she well? Do you have suitors in mind for her, now that she is coming of age?"
"Lucy is currently horse riding with the midwife of our town. And, yes – I have tried to prepare her for society and suitors. But she has not taken to the men she has been introduced to." Lady Hanbrook sniffed with disapproval. "I suspect that she still has feelings for a man who used to come here – who I have forbidden… But enough of that. We could still do with more people attending Lucy's birthday party tomorrow night. She has few friends, you see." She removed an envelope from a pocket set in her cloak. "Here is your party invitation, Issy. I also have other cards on my person, to add the name of anyone suitable enough to come at short notice… Heidi, perhaps? Some of our servants will be allowed to dance at the party. Lucy insisted upon it."
"Heidi? Hmm… Very well. I will write her name upon her invitation later, if you give it to me now. But, as yet, I have seen little of the people of your town…" Isabella tapped her foot as she thought furiously. Then she smirked. "I can think of someone I could dance with. And there is a lady in Shadowbrook who might appreciate such an invite."
"Really? Who? And who?"
"In reply to the first issue, I will say no more. As to the lady who could do with an invite, I refer to the local schoolmistress – Miss Piaget."
"Ahh, yes. She will do. Now, take these invitation cards that I have already signed. All you need do is add the names of those you have in mind. And here is an extra one for the other lady – so that she has a dance partner. If you wish, the courier could deliver them. George has permitted him to partake of a late lunch with the servants. The man, I understand, knows most people in Shadowbrook." And with that, Lady Hanbrook started to rise from the bench.
Isabella put out her hand, touching the sleeve of her friend's dress. "Wait one moment, Josette! You mentioned the deaths of those farm animals and deer earlier. In the last few months. But I have heard more. Some men violently died last night…"
Lady Hanbrook's face turned pale. "I know nothing of this…"
"I see. What can you tell me about the one referred to as 'The Shadow Witch?'"
The other woman's features become even paler. She took a step away from Isabella. "Do not ask me of her! She is dead… And despite her promise, she will never torment us ag-"
"What?"
Lady Hanbrook's palm was directed towards Isabella as she retreated. The Dutchwoman noticed her friend's throat bobbing up and down with fear. "Please, Issy… I must speak with George now. He was out this morning. He must have been investigating the matter that you spoke of." She took a deep breath to recompose herself. "It is turning overcast, dear. Do you wish me to show you the way out?"
Isabella considered this, and then shook her head. "I will stay here a little longer. I wish to think alone."
"I will see you at dinner, then." Lady Hanbrook nodded, and walked towards the far side of the maze's heart – turning left at the junction visible, before disappearing from sight.
Then her scream rang out.
Startled, Isabella got to her feet, and hurried onwards. Reaching Lady Hanbrook just past the junction, she grabbed hold of her friend who had pressed her back against a hedge, shaking. There was blood on one of her hands – and the other hand was pressed against it.
"Josette! What has happened?!"
"The f-fiend! It leapt up-upon me fr-from the he-hedge… Scr-scratched me! Get it aw-away…" Her mouth refusing to work properly, Lady Hanbrook instead jabbed her finger along the now-gloomy passageway of the maze before her. Heart in her throat, Isabella looked along it, fearing what she would see – but there was nothing… Then she glanced down, and laughed. A painfully-thin, cat with brown, gray, and white markings, was sat before them a couple of meters away, eyeing them warily. Then it rose upon all fours and sauntered off into the side passage nearby.
Isabella glanced briefly at her ladyship, frowning. "It is of little consequence… Why! You had a cat as a pet, as I recall-"
"It sh-should not b-be here!" Lady Hanbrook hissed.
"Then I will take this insolent animal to your grounds keeper, for him to remove it from the premises." Isabella turned and strode into the side passage, which then turned right and revealed a dead end.
But the cat had gone. There was only a dead bird present, torn apart on the ground – the grisly remains of its meal…
Puzzled, Isabella carefully searched the foliage. The hedges were perfectly formed – no cat could have passed through them. There was no sign, either, that the feline had climbed the greenery…
Overhead, the dark gray clouds were gathering. A chill ran along Isabella's spine – and she told herself it was because the air had suddenly turned cooler.
But she prided herself on her wits. Nobody could convincingly lie to Isabella von Took.
Not even herself.
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Some hours later…
Isabella glanced again at Lady Hanbrook as their dessert dishes were taken away by the servants. Her friend now bore a bandage over the back of her right hand. The bandage also constrained the movement of her wrist and thumb – forcing her ladyship to rely on her left hand during the meal. She had been terse when questioned about her wound by Lucy – and would only reply that she had accidently injured herself. The wound, and bandage, would soon be gone.
Not surprisingly, the atmosphere at the dining table felt uncomfortable to both Isabella and Lucy. Lord Hanbrook had eaten his meal with a stern expression – though he had engaged in conversation with his guests now and then, to make up for his wife's withdrawn manner.
Night had long fallen outside, and the autumn skies – visible through the large windows were leaden with low clouds. There had been prolonged light rain earlier. And mist was now forming. Upon Lady Hanbrook's urging, Hargreaves the butler promptly drew all of the curtains to. Immediately, Lady Hanbrook began to relax a little – there was a subtle shift in her behavior which Isabella picked up upon.
So too did Inspector Jonathan Cooke.
As Hargreaves refilled Cooke's glass with more of the excellent red wine, the Inspector again appraised the rest of the company at the table – Lord George Hanbrook; his wife Lady Josette; their daughter Lucy; and the raven-haired Dutch noblewoman Isabella von Took, who spoke excellent English.
"When you have finished your drink, Inspector, we can retreat to my study. I wish to hear what findings you have made today," Lord Hanbrook declared in his calm, even tone of voice as he sipped from his own glass. He gazed for a moment into the flickering log fire that was burning.
"Excuse me. I know that you men like to discuss important matters away from the ears of us of the fairer sex – but I too would like to hear more of these matters," Isabella spoke up, measuring her words carefully. "If there is danger around these parts, I would like to know what I – and my servants – am to protect ourselves from."
Cooke gave her a stern look. "You are an unusual woman, Madam von Took. However, I cannot openly talk about the deaths that I am looking into. This is procedure. I should discuss my progress only with the elders of your town – and my superiors back at Boston."
"But…, pardoning me, Inspector… If…whatever creature…that has caused the deaths of those animals has now…turned…upon men, will you be calling upon more of your officers to help the local militia track it down?"
It was Lucy who had spoken, Cooke noted. He was not sure what to make of her, as yet. In the subdued light, her shoulder-length hair appeared to be a chestnut brown – but when viewed in the firelight, her locks turned an attractive shade of titian. Likewise, in her long-sleeved, formal white and green-blue dress, Lucy Hanbrook came across as a pampered and fragile, with a light sprinkle of freckles around her cheeks. But he sensed a hidden spirit and strength to her. She had asked him many questions about Boston, a city that she had never visited. She had smiled and politely laughed in the right places when he had recited amusing tales. But now, it was clear that she was not without an independent mind and will of her own.
Just as well, he reminded himself. Lucy was to become of age tomorrow evening. She would officially turn into a woman in her own right.
"No need to call in more of the force from the city, just yet, Miss Lucy. We need to learn more of what we are dealing with yet," Cooke replied, smiling as he sipped his wine.
"We should discuss matters over a smoke in the study…" Lord Hanbrook trailed off as the butler gave a cough. "What is it, Hargreaves?"
"Excuse me, sir. As you have locked your room earlier, the fireplace will be…"
His lordship winced in annoyance, and reached for a key within the inner pocket of his waistcoat. "My mistake. Give Selena this key, so that she can light the fire and warm the room ready for us."
"Very good, sir." Hargreaves took the offered key and promptly left the dining room to find the maid.
"Inspector…if I may ask," the von Took woman spoke up again. "Going on whatever you have seen and learned so far, you believe that a natural animal is behind this spate of killings?"
He narrowed his eyes. "Why, yes. Of course, madam. I am not very familiar with the larger predators of the countryside – but it is likely that a large wolf or some wild big cat is lurking in these parts. Do you have some other explanation to offer?"
"I have heard talk in the town of witchcr-" Isabella's brash manner faltered as her eyes glanced across to Josette, who gave a small, sharp shake of her head, in disapproval.
"Witchcraft!?" Inspector Cooke slammed down his goblet and snorted as he smirked. "Begging your pardon, Madam von Took. But as an Inspector trained in detection and analysis, I consider myself to be a rational man. In the absence of fact, we must NOT rely on fiction! We are in a new century now. In 1803, no less. This is not the old country, or the old continent – with the hysteria of the puritans. That should be firmly confined to history!"
"But unnatural things have happened here in recent years, and that it was all hushed up…," a small voice piped up.
"Lucinda! Be silent, child!" Lady Hanbrook bristled.
Cooke and Isabella turned to face Lucy at the same moment.
"What…unnatural things?" Cooke asked, his voice little more than a whisper.
The Hanbrooks looked silently between themselves. It was the father who spoke first. Again, his voice was calm and measured.
"Very well. Madam von Took is correct in reporting that rumors are present in Shadowbrook. You see, on all Hallows Eve a year ago, a woman accused of witchcraft was convicted and hung for her many crimes against this community – despite her pleas of innocence. She was feared, and despised, by many – including all of the elders of Shadowbrook. In her defiance, this hateful woman threatened to return fr-"
The scream that rang through the manor at that moment made Isabella drop her wine glass. The remaining liquid stained the rich cloth.
"Oh! My apologies, I-"
But Isabella realized that the Hanbrooks were not paying attention to her accident. Instead, fear had seized them – turning them rigid.
After what must have been seconds, but what had felt to be longer, Lord Hanbrook's face twitched. He bolted out of the room – followed promptly by the Inspector. Isabella gave chase without further hesitation.
Within moments, all three of them had come to an abrupt halt in his lordship's study. Selena was there, still staring at the horror that had caused her to scream. She now trembled in the hands of the black maid, Delani – who was forcing Selena to turn away from the west wall, and seek comfort in her colleague's embrace.
"I came in…to light the fire. But when I did, I saw…" Selena choked up. Without turning her head away from Delani's shoulder, she pointed at the thick circle of dark liquid that was oozing from the wallpaper and slowly dripping down onto the mantelpiece below. It was if the wall itself was alive, and had been somehow…injured.
Lord Hanbrook was the first to find his voice. "Delani – take Selena to the servant's quarters. Now!"
"Yessir!" Delani answered, before slipping away with the other serving girl.
"What…? What trick is this!?" Inspector Cooke gasped. Lord Hanbrook and Isabella watched as he cautiously approached the bleeding wall. His questing fingers wiped away a spot on the red circle and felt it. "This is surely blood!"
"No trick, Inspector. This is witchcraft! It must be her doing…" Lord Hanbrook's voice trembled.
"Can we…test this blood?" Isabella asked aloud. "See if it is…human?"
"Fetch a container of some kind from the kitchen, if you will please, Madam von Took! I will go outside to see who is responsible for this trick!" Inspector Cooke made for the front door. "Hargreaves!" He called out. "I need your help, man!"
And so, Isabella dashed for the kitchen – after being directed by Lord Hanbrook. Once there, she came across Selena and Delani again. Heidi too was there – helping to direct the shocked serving girl to a chair at the table. With Delani's help, Isabella tried to find a suitable container. She settled for a clean milk pot with a detachable lid, and a spoon to scope up the blood. Wasting no time, the noblewoman then dashed back to the study…
…where Lord Hanbrook was slumped against the east wall of his study, his body rigid with shock. His wide eyes were fixed on the opposite wall, where – even as Isabella looked – the offending blood stains were inexplicably vanishing from sight.
Moments later, Inspector Cooke arrived back in the study – his expression perplexed. "I do not understand," he muttered. "There is no blood on the outside wall… Hargreaves is alerting the men – to search for the intruder. Wait! The blood… It has gone!?"
"It disappeared before my eyes, Inspector," Isabella remarked coolly.
"You will excuse me… The other elders need to know about this," Lord Hanbrook croaked. He slipped away from the room.
"I will return to check on Selena, I think," Isabella declared. She then strode back to the kitchen, her heart racing with fear – but also with a thrill of excitement.
She loved mysteries. And this was turning out to be a most unusual change from her normal, dull routine – her late husband's death not withstanding. Besides the many questions on her mind, Isabella felt the sweet tang of an adventure arising…
By the time she reached the other women where she had left them, Isabella realized that Inspector Cooke had followed her.
"The blood mark has gone from the study, ladies. I do not know what exactly happened – but the culprit will be caught. Hargreaves and the other male servants of the house are searching the grounds now," he declared, looking and sounding dazed.
"You do not understand, sir," Delani spoke in a measured, somber tone of voice. "We're not alone here…there's something from the other side, the spirit world."
Cooke appraised her carefully. "I do not believe in ghosts, Miss," he told her.
"You will." She turned her attention to Isabella. "Your servant is inquisitive, madam. I have told her that I have already consulted the bones. Darkness is coming."
"The bones?" Isabella immediately thought back to when she spied the black maid toss the animal bones out of her hidden away box. It was…divination?
"Yes. What we all saw was a warning. Those men who died last night, Inspector… They are just the first. Many more will follow…"
Cooke's face darkened. "Miss Delani, if you know who is behind all this, then you need to tell me – or you will be a party to…"
She held up a hand, and Cooke found himself inexplicably silenced. "I can not tell who or what is responsible. The bones gave me no clear answer. What I do know is that both of you are needed to fight back against the evil that threatens to take us all. You and several others. You must all stand and fight for the safety of this township!"
Both Cooke and Isabella raised an eyebrow in surprise.
Selena sniffed. She had stopped crying, and was now looking up at the two guests. Clasping her hands together, the pretty, dark-haired young woman managed a fluttering smile.
"You've come to save us!" she exclaimed joyously.
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Fields:
Not far away from Hanbrook Manor, the mist was becoming thicker in the surroundings of the farmlands that supplied Shadowbrook.
A watcher had used that mist to its advantage to draw closer to one particular farmhouse. Earlier, it had observed the movements of the humans of the farm estate. Satisfied that its target was within, the creature had then turned its attention to the flock of sheep kept in the nearby barn.
Catching scent of the intruder as it adjusted itself to tear at the wood around the padlock on the doors, the flock bleated and milled around in terror. Soon, one of them had been caught as it had tried to run past the creature. Its screaming soon ended as its throat was torn out. Ovine blood ran down the chest of the intruder, and dripped onto the dirty straw that littered the floor of the barn. The rest of the flock began to nervously dash past the scene of the death, as they bolted outside to safety.
The creature did not stop them as it gulped down the raw meat of its kill. Instead, it waited as the commotion around the farmhouse boiled over…
Within seconds, the farm dog emerged and ran straight towards the creature.
Snarling, the intruder rose and turned just in time to meet the dog's attack.
By the time the farm men had armed and organized themselves, they were overwhelmed by the chaos outside of the stampeding sheep and almost deafened by the cries echoing from beyond the broken doorway of the barn.
"Lexington! Barnes! With me," the eldest of the men ordered as he jabbed his finger at two of the hardiest farmhands. "The rest of you – get them sheep into the enclosures. Now!"
"Yessir!" They yelled back.
Moments later, the owner forced himself to overcome his trembling nerves. Then, creeping through the broken doorway with his two companions, they saw from the light of the lantern hanging just inside the barn…
"Shoot it!" the owner barked.
The creature bared its fangs as it rose from the form of the defeated dog. Its chance had now arrived – and it bounded away at an angle to avoid the first rifle shots, before twisting in mid-run to bear down upon its quarry.
"Oh, god! No!" the youngest man cried out.
"Hold your nerve, Barnes. Both of you - fire!"
This time, the latest round of shots had a closer range. They did not miss – but the creature was not swayed from its course, until…
It screamed as two of the bullets clipped it. The creature fell to the ground, twitched and then lay still.
The smoke from the discharged shots drifted from the rifles. "Did we…get it?" the young man gulped.
"Barnes. Check it out," the owner ordered. "Don't look insolent! Do as I say!"
"Ye-yes, sir," Barnes swallowed. Reloading his rifle, he then cautiously advanced upon the downed intruder…
…which in an instant, rose up and charged its head at him. Barnes gave a shriek as he was bowled over by the fiend, which immediately turned round and…
The owner fired his rifle again – this time just missing the dodging shape. Then the creature paused, sniffing at the air. Its keen eyes saw the amulet draped over the shirt of its quarry…
With a howl of anger, the intruder turned round and ran toward the rear of the barn – its sleek, twisting form avoiding the next volley of shots. Then, carried by its momentum, bounded up towards the small round window set into the back wall, and smashed through.
"Quick! Let's hunt it down!" the owner spat. He led his remaining man outside. But by the time they had reached the other side of the barn's back wall, the intruder had vanished into the thickening mist...
Inside the barn, the forgotten Barnes moaned as he rubbed his head and tried to move from where he had been tossed aside. To his astonishment, he had not been slashed by those terrible fangs or claws – only bruised by the impact. He gave a quick prayer of thanks to the Lord above.
His relief vanished as he saw the whimpering dog and the wounds it had taken.
"No… Oh, no," Barnes muttered. "The master will not be pleased…"
Back in the woods bordering the southern edge of the fields, the intruder bellowed its rage to the heavens.
At the back of the barn – unnoticed by anyone or anything else - a thin brown, white and gray cat slipped through a gap in the old brickwork. A few minutes later, the painfully-thin animal fed contently on a rat he had just caught in the hedgerows bordering the nearest road. An ethereal wisp connected the tomcat to a vague ghostly shape standing close by in the shadows. It was appraising the human and animal noises from the farm. The figure chuckled to itself – if anyone had been present there and then, they would have just been able to hear the mocking laughter. It had watched the drama unfold, and was satisfied. Having successfully invaded the dreams of the farm owner the previous night, he had taken to wearing protection – made all too aware by his unearthly guardian of the nature of the creature that had tracked him down.
Soon… Soon I will have my own use for you, dearest… The apparition smiled gloatingly, as it thought to itself. And then we shall truly begin to make this township pay the price…