NOTICE
Norwood Road, Herne Hill, and Denmark Hill will be closed to through traffic until further notice. This is to facilitate the construction of Mr. Bazalgette’s sewer tunnel along the course of the subterranean River Effra.
The Department of Guided Science apologises for any inconvenience caused.
The Department of Guided Science
Making a Healthier, Cleaner, Better London.
The interview with Oliphant had been short but unsettling, and throughout the following night Burton was repeatedly shocked awake by nightmares in which he saw the lunatic’s face looming out of the darkness, feline eyes blazing and muzzle-like jaws extended, displaying elongated, blood-dripping canines.
By seven in the morning he’d given up on further sleep, so washed, dressed, and went downstairs. He stepped out into the street and located the newspaper boy a little way down Montagu Place. Passing him a few coins, he said, “I need the address of a man named Charles Darwin. He’s a member of the Royal Geographical Society, so you’ll find it in the register there.”
“Straight away, sir,” the lad said, and immediately scampered off. Burton watched him approach another urchin at the corner of Seymour Place and whisper in his ear. The second youngster raced away and the Irish boy turned, grinned, and gave Burton the thumbs-up.
The explorer returned to his study. Oliphant lingered in his thoughts and made him sullen and uncommunicative during breakfast—Mrs. Angell had witnessed such moods before and served him silently and efficiently before making a rapid withdrawal—and afterward he spent the morning with a foil in his hand, practising his fencing technique against an imaginary opponent.
He forced his mind into silence, finally driving Lord Elgin’s secretary out of it, and focused instead on the physical exertion, gauging carefully his own strength and weakness, and discovering, to his satisfaction, that no remnant of fever remained; he was close to his normal level of health and fitness.
At half-past eleven, he was flannelling the sweat from his face and neck when the doorbell jangled. He heard his housekeeper answer it then thump up the stairs.
“Yes?” he called in response to her knock.
She looked in. “There’s an unwashed guttersnipe on our doorstep. He says he has a message for you.”
“Send him up, please.”
“Up the stairs?”
“I don’t expect him to scale the outer wall, Mrs. Angell.”
“But his boots are filthy.”
Burton gave his housekeeper what she referred to as the look. She heaved a sigh and disappeared from sight. Moments later, a quiet tapping sounded on the door.
“Come in.”
The Whisperer entered, and his eyes widened as he saw the various weapons on the wall and the foil in Burton’s hand.
“You have it?” the explorer asked.
“That I do, sir. Mr. Darwin lives at Down House, on the Luxted Road, quarter of a mile south of Downe Village in Kent.”
“What’s your name, lad?”
“Abraham, sir. Abraham Stoker. Most folks call me Bram.”
“Have you a place to call home?”
“I calls the streets me home, sir.”
“Where do you sleep?”
“Wherever I can.”
“Hmm! Well, here’s another sixpence for you, Master Bram.”
Burton took a coin from a pot on one of his workbenches and flipped it to the boy, who caught it smartly and gave a salute.
“Thank you, sir. Much obliged! Is there anything else I can be a-doin’ for ye?”
“Not for the moment, thank you.”
“Right you are, sir. You know where to find me.” Bram saluted again and departed. Half a minute later, Burton heard Mrs. Angell cry out, “Not there! Not there! I’ve just brushed it!”
The street door banged. Burton resumed his training. Five minutes passed. The doorbell clanged again. Mrs. Angell reappeared at the study door, this time with a broom in her hand.
“Mr. Monckton Milnes is here. Perhaps you’d consider moving your study to the ground floor? It would save me a lot of running up and down, not to mention sweeping. I’m not as young as I used to be, you know.”
Burton bellowed, “Come on up, old chap!”
Mrs. Angell grumbled, “Well! Bless me! I could have informed him in a rather more civil manner,” and withdrew.
Monckton Milnes entered and announced, “Just dropping by to tell you I’m fleeing the city, old boy. The growing stink is too much for me. Gad! Have you heard? The sewage is already rising into the streets around Saint Pancras. The sooner they release the flow, the better. Anyway, I’m off to Fryston tomorrow. Fresh Yorkshire air. I’ve bagged a berth on the jolly old Orpheus. Phew! What have you been up to?”
“Practising,” Burton replied. He returned his foil to its bracket over the fireplace. “Getting myself back into shape. Tipple?”
“No, thank you.” Monckton Milnes dropped into an armchair. “I’m swearing off the stuff for a few days. Rossetti called on me. So, the truth is out.”
“It is.” Burton sat opposite him. “All these years we’ve been friends, and you were hiding that!”
“Not just from you. I haven’t been allowed to discuss it with anyone beyond Disraeli’s inner circle. One must demonstrate an ability to keep the lips firmly buttoned if one is to be trusted with secrets.”
“Declares the most incorrigible gossip in town.”
“It is to that reputation, my dear fellow, that I owe my success. Through the ceaseless distribution of inconsequential tittle-tattle, I have earned a reputation as a man who cannot keep a confidence, thus not a single person suspects that, in fact, I harbour some of the biggest secrets in the Empire.”
“So you know the rest, I suppose?”
“The disappearances? Burke and Hare? You as king’s agent? Yes, Richard. What I wasn’t already aware of, I was briefed on last week. Now I understand why Florence didn’t return to the theatre. My manly pride is restored but, frankly, I’d gladly give it up to know what has become of her. I’m worried sick. Have you made any progress?”
Burton regarded his friend silently then said, “Before I answer that, tell me two things. First, why me?”
Monckton Milnes gave a slight shrug. “To be the king’s agent? Isn’t it obvious? You have greater skills in your little finger than a dozen men could hope to accrue in a lifetime. Your intellect is ferocious; you are as strong as an ox; you can fight like a demon; and you’re related to, and acquainted with, some of the principal dramatis personæ.”
“And the decision was made the weekend after my return?”
“Yes, in an emergency meeting on the Sunday, in response to Isambard Kingdom Brunel’s abduction. You and I were at the Cannibal Club at the time.”
“Who suggested me for the role?”
“I understand your brother did.”
“I suspected as much. Without his involvement, the coincidences are too remarkable to be credible.”
“What coincidences?”
“My investigation has led again and again to The Assassination, and according to two people, I was there—except, of course, I wasn’t. One of those witnesses says I had with me a rifle upon which the number one thousand, nine hundred, and eighteen was engraved. As you already know, one thousand, nine hundred, ten, and eight were integral to Oliphant’s ritual.”
Monckton Milnes’s eyebrows rose. “By Gad! That’s damned peculiar. What does it mean?”
“It means that Edward was already aware that I am somehow, unknowingly, involved in the events I’m investigating.”
Burton’s friend nodded as if this was a statement of the obvious. “He must have received information to that effect from Abdu El Yezdi, before the latter’s sudden silence. Can you continue to doubt the existence of spirit advisors, Richard?”