Wednesday, 20 April 1870
(morning)
I finished my hat before I got to sleep last night.
I am eagerly looking forward to this evening, when Mr Frazer will be joining us for dinner before accompanying us to the presentation by Dr Pilkington. I wonder what Mr Frazer might know about tonight's reading. It should make for excellent dinner conversation.

Meanwhile, I think I shall try to persuade Edward to work on some Latin.

Thursday, 21 April, 1870
(morning)
We have returned to our former style of complete chaos.

Last evening began as planned. While Mr Cuthbert, Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Whitnell, and Dr Wilson made their way to Maj. Gen. Phipps' ball, Sir Cosmo, Miss Namaste, and I went to the Naturalist Society meeting.

Alas, as we arrived, to the meeting, we learned that Dr Pilkington was indisposed, and that his Grandson Robert Ditteridge would be reading in his stead.

Because of Mrs Cuthbert's agitation regarding Robert Ditteridge's safety (and indeed the safety of his entire family), I thought it best to alert her of the sudden change of plan.

I wrote a note to Mrs Cuthbert and the "League" party at the Phipps' ball, and sent Edward to carry it there.
Mrs Cuthbert returned in the carriage driven by Edward.
Edward created a distraction to allow Mrs Cuthbert to slip into the meeting hall (as she is not a member of the Society, and the rest of us were on watch within, and couldn't bring her as our guest).

Well, Robert Ditteridge made the presentation, which was titled "Comparative Encephalic Ontogeny in Three Species: Canis familiaris, Cebus capuchinis, and Cavia cobaya." It was a fairly well-written paper, and featured numerous illustrations from vivisected embryonic and fetal specimens of all three species.

I am not a great adherent of vivisection as a means of gathering data, as I feel more useful data can be gathered by observing phenomena in their own contexts, particularly animals in their own habitats. However, I was not about to make a display of myself by becoming outraged or sentimental. This would play directly to the objections that so many masculine scientists use to exclude females from their company (namely that we are not resolute enough to pursue the sciences).

Poor Mrs Cuthbert, who was agitated anyway, and who is not accustomed to the harder paths of science, was thoroughly unsettled.

The real trouble started when I heard Edward's voice outside the 4th-story window, shouting "Hi, Monkey!" I looked over to the window and I could see a distinctly simian little face, capped by a red fez. I found this very odd.

After signaling to my colleagues, I went outside to find out what was going on, accompanied by Mr. Frazer. By the time I made it outside, Edward was back on the ground, looking everywhere for the monkey, which had apparently vanished. Edward reported that an organ grinder had set up to perform with the monkey, but the monkey had run off and scaled the building. Edward had followed, only to be given a sharp and intimidating look by the monkey.

By the time we arrived, the monkey had run off, and the organ grinder had disappeared. Turgenov, Mr. Frazer's dog, attempted to trail the pair, only to start spinning about, snapping at the air as if pursuing a biting fly. The trails of the monkey and the organ grinder disappeared, apparently into a carriage or wagon, now long gone.

We all agreed that this was a strangely sinister circumstance. Mr Frazer and his dog volunteered to follow Mr Robert Ditteridge to his flat to be sure he arrived safely. The rest of us determined to return to Sir Cosmo's to meet up with the others and choose a course of action.

When we met up with Miss Whitnell, she informed us that word had come to the ball that Dr Pilkington, Baron Scarisbrick was, in fact, dead.

Oddly, Mrs Cuthbert had just had one of her visions, in which she saw Dr Pilkington's body laid out, surrounded by police. I have learned through experience that Mrs Cuthbert's visions often reflect some truth, and I consider it all too possible that Dr Pilkington has met his death through foul play.

Lady Ditteridge, Dr Pilkington's daughter and Robert Ditteridge's mother, gave a note to Miss Whitnell, and asked her to bring it to Mr Robert Ditteridge then accompany him back to the family home. Lady Ditteridge stayed with the assembling family members. Several of us (Sir Cosmo, Miss Namaste, Miss Whitnell, myself, and Edward driving) approached Mr Ditteridge's flat. I stayed outside with Edward and Mr Frazer while the others went in.

I heard later that after they delivered the sad news to Mr Ditteridge, he went to his room to change. The others heard a sinister laugh and a voice threatening Mr Ditteridge, and the crash of a falling oil lamp. Flames immediately engulfed the room and our party within struggled to bring Mr Ditteridge to safety.

From outside, I heard the crash and could smell the smoke and the combusting lamp oil. Edward immediately scaled the wall toward Mr Ditteridge's window, where the flames were visible. Mr Frazer bravely ran into the building to lend assistance, but I stayed, unwilling to leave Edward alone, yet unable to scale the wall beside him due to my evening clothes.

As I stood below, uncertain of how to help, Edward broke the window, and was immediately thrown backward by an outrush of flames. I ran to try to catch him, but was too slow. Fortunately the distance was not too great (by Edward's standards).

I seemed to see a vague figure within the flames, which seemed to be Throttling Edward. I heard a voice calling Edward a demon-child or some such foolishness. As I reached Edward's side, the flames dissipated suddenly, leaving the boy gasping on the lawn. I bent to examine his neck and saw finger marks. Oddly, his shirt collar was marked with frost rather than scorch marks. How peculiar it all was, though I thought little about it at the time, being concerned only with my friends' safety.

The fire brigade was able to douse the flames before they spread through the building. We did what we could for Mr Ditteridge's burns and took him to Hospital, The rest of our party was unhurt, though their clothing is so badly scorched, it may be unsalvageable.

It is now Thursday Morning, and all of us are thoroughly exhausted (except perhaps Mr Cuthbert, who returned from the Phipp's ball and proceeded to fall asleep in the parlour). All of us have gotten a little sleep, and are preparing to embark by rail to Liverpool, where we will look into the situation at Dr Pilkington's laboratory.

Thursday, 21 April, 1870
afternoon

We did not go to Liverpool after all.
Our party, consisted of the following:
1) Myself;
2)Mrs Cuthbert, who had been very determined to investigate the laboratory, especially in regards to a small dog which appeared in her vision yesterday;
3) Mr Frazer and Turgenov, who we had hoped would help us find and (dare I admit this eccentric idea) talk to the small dog;
4) Sir Cosmo, whose private rail car was enlisted to our purpose;
5) Mr Cuthbert, who goes with Mrs Cuthbert most of the time, and who could be helpful should we meet danger of a violent nature.

Dr Wilson was not with us today, as he was at work at his weaponry laboratory.

Lt Wooster and Mr Caine have been keeping a watchful eye on the home of Lady Ditteridge. I should mention that the Lieutenant has apparently formed an Attachment to a daughter of that family, and so has numerous motives for hanging about there.

The reason for the curtailment of our rail journey is so remarkable, I hesitate to write it even in this private chronicle. We met Dr Pilkington's dog. He spells.

This transpired as follows:
While we were on the rail platform, I noticed a small dog, a corgi, hop out of one of the cars that had just come into the station. Edward, who loves animals, bounded over to greet it. I tried to discourage him from the dangerous practice of approaching unknown dogs (to no avail, of course), meanwhile looking for the human who I assumed would be traveling with the dog. None appeared.

This dog was wearing a brass tag naming him "Owen" and identifying his owner as Baron Scarisbrick. This could hardly be a coincidence. Mrs Cuthbert emerged from the rail car and immediately recognized the dog as the one from her vision of the Baron's murder.

The dog seemed very attentive to what we said, and barked in a very responsive manner. I was entirely amazed when he began to scratch in the dirt, apparently trying to spell out words.

Mrs Cuthbert came to the rescue by producing from her luggage her ouija board, (which is a medium's device covered with letters and words, whereby spirits are supposed to be able to spell out messages). Owen proved quite able to spell out his intentions, which involved finding the Baron's killers and bringing them to justice.

We invited him to Sir Cosmo's to join forces with our investigation. The rail car was uncoupled and we all crowded into the carriages to travel home.

I will summarise what we learned from Owen, as the question-and-answer process was quite slow.
1) The Baron was murdered by an hyper-intelligent monkey named Iota, which was one of his experimental subjects, in conspiracy with the Baron's human assistant Paolo. The method was poison.
2) Owen had tracked Paolo through Liverpool, and had overheard him talking to a lady friend, about his plans to go to London. Therefore, Owen had concealed himself on the train to London.
3) When asked about Iota's and Paolo's motives for the murder, Owen could only reply, "B-A-D." He is still a dog, after all, and cannot understand violations of loyalty.

I would say we can assume that Iota is the monkey we saw at the Naturalists' Society, and Paolo is the "organ grinder."

Things are quiet for the moment while we all gather our thoughts. Miss Namaste has gone off on some errands with Edward. Miss Whitnell is studying her spiritualist writings in hope of learning more about the fiery entity which attacked Mr Robert Ditteridge (and Edward). Mrs Cuthbert is cooing over Owen and getting him settled. I think I'll take a minute to do some sketching and relax.

Miss Whitnell and Sir Cosmo have an appointment with Sir Anthony this afternoon. I believe they intend to learn more about Mr Aidan Ramsay, and whether he can be trusted. I'm sure they will also describe our recent involvement with the Ditteridge family's crisis, and receive some guidance and further information.

(later Thursday)
Mr Frazer has just come to us with information on the case. He and Mrs Cuthbert and I are about to proceed to the Ditteridge home, where further mishaps have threatened the family and the monkey has apparently been up to mischief...

One of the late Baron's other grandsons has just been killed in an accident, and his wife and child were injured.

Mr Caine narrowly prevented Lt Wooster from being poisoned with cyanide, which had been introduced into the Ditteridge home's sugar canister. A furry creature has been seen scuttling about. I am hoping that with the help of Mr Frazer and Turgenov, we can track the monkey (I feel sure that it was the monkey) to his hiding place and perhaps find Paolo there. I hear Mrs Cuthbert coming down the hall, so we must go.

Friday, 22 April, 1870

Yesterday was extremely peculiar and vexing.
I will begin where I left off yesterday's account.

When Mr Frazer, Mrs Cuthbert, Mr Cuthbert, Owen, Turgenov and I arrived at the Ditteridge home, we learned from Caine that the monkey had apparently used the dumbwaiter to get in and out of the kitchen, where he poisoned the sugar. Lt Wooster seemed even more addled than usual, and described the overwhelming urge to drink tea with lots of sugar, and Caine added that he had become suspicious when Wooster appeared carrying a cup filled brimful of sugar with a little tea. Caine said he smelled the cyanide (I could smell the lingering scent myself) and prevented the lieutenant from drinking. I remember thinking how weak-minded Wooster must be to succumb to whatever form of suggestion was at work on him.

With the help of the dogs, Mr Frazer and I began to track the monkey.

Mrs Cuthbert, Mr Cuthbert, Lt Wooster, and Mr Caine stayed at the Ditteridge house to discuss some genealogical matters (which might shed light on the motive for these attacks on the family) with Lady Ditteridge and Miss Angela Glossop. Miss Glossop is a granddaughter of the Baron, and also the young lady whom Lt Wooster is courting.

Mr Frazer and the dogs and I followed the monkey's trail quite a distance. Because of our visit to the Ditteridge household, to I was wearing an afternoon dress, fairly simple, but still quite unsuitable for scaling buildings. Fortunately, Mr Frazer is quite adept at both climbing and tracking, so he was able to track the monkey up and over buildings where the dogs couldn't go. I was quite frustrated at being so constrained by my garments, but I did admire Mr Frazer's skill all the same.

We found ourselves in Upper Thames Street, across from a boarding house, where we believed the monkey to be hiding. We kept the building under observation from the vantage of a small tea shop.
We wrote a note to our colleagues and sent it back to the Ditteridge house via Owen.

While waiting, we had a peculiar encounter with an old woman of disheveled appearance, who inquired of me how long I had been an "unbeliever." Her further comments indicated that she knew something about the boarding house and its Proprietress. I invited her to join us for tea, and she proceeded to inform us that said Proprietress was not an "unbeliever," and would not knowingly countenance any evil sorcery on her premises. She did not say that there was none there.

Owen returned, and the others of our party began to appear, summoned from the Ditteridge house and from Sir Cosmo's. Just then, the dogs set up an uproar at the door to the kitchen. We went to investigate, and I suddenly wanted a cup of tea very much.

I found some and began to drink it, although some part of my mind was telling me that I must not, that it was laced with cyanide. Somehow, that wretched monkey had created some hypnogogic suggestion aimed at Me!
I fainted away.

When I came to my senses, I was outside, with Mrs. Cuthbert bending over me. I cannot describe the sensation of comfort I received from her presence. Mr Frazer was also hovering nearby, which was also a comfort.

By now, everyone was present except Sir Cosmo and Miss Whitnell, who I later learned had been still in conference with Sir Anthony and later with Mr Ramsay.

During this time, the dogs and Lt Wooster had routed the monkey, and were pursuing it all around the neighborhood.
Somehow, Lt Wooster had pursued the monkey to the top of a building and then lost it. The monkey must have been near, though, for it somehow overmastered the Lieutenant once again, and caused him to begin shooting at the rest of our party assembling in the street.

While Mr Cuthbert and Miss Namaste dove for cover, Dr Wilson spotted the monkey in one of the windows. With characteristic accuracy, he shot it. Wooster came to his senses (at least as much as he ever does).
Meanwhile, Edward was climbing the building to look into the window where the monkey had been, and others proceeded up the stairs inside.

Most of this I know only from later tales of the others, for I was still nearly insensible in the street. As I was coming around, I heard explosions and fire, and I knew that Edward, My Charge, was in the midst of it.
When I had some strength back, I ran into the building to get him out.

I found the room, with a dead monkey, a great deal of scorching, Miss Namaste and Mrs Cuthbert dragging a young man out, and a rather wild-eyed man in a disheveled lab coat holding an explosive which was shortly to detonate. Everyone was retreating as fast as could be, Edward and I grabbed the man in the lab coat, just as he was falling to the floor, and dragged him out, without the explosive. We had all reached relative safety before it exploded.

I learned, upon our arrival in the street, that the man I had helped save was Mortimer Hammersly, an assistant to Dr Wilson, and that he had lit the fuse of the explosive device because he was in the grip of a phantom. It became clear to me that he was out of his mind, as he kept describing the plot by the Polish government against his life. I berated the assembled group for endangering the innocent occupants of the building. I was more angry than I have ever been in my life. Well, except perhaps for when my second paper was rejected by the Naturalists' Society some years ago.

When I stopped to catch my breath, the others were able to tell me what had happened in the room. Apparently, when everyone arrived in the room to find the monkey, they also found a young man in a circle of writing, with some sort of smoking leaves. I have learned by now that this sort of thing is always trouble. This man lost consciousness just as the "phantom" entity appeared. Miss Namaste recognized it as the same creature as had attacked Mr Robert Ditteridge.

Each person who saw the creature saw something different, something particularly frightening to them. This may be more hypnogogic suggestion, I don't know. Apparently, Mr Hammersly was so frightened by what he saw that he started setting off explosives, hoping to take his enemy with him into death. What a maniac. I'm sure it didn't help that he had had an earlier unpleasant encounter with the monkey, which Dr Wilson described to me later.

In any case, the phantom disappeared as soon as I arrived, much as it did when it was attacking Edward at Robert Ditteridge's flat. The young man who had been in the room was apparently Paolo, the monkey's accomplice.

The Police began to arrive, and likewise Sir Anthony's partisans, and Sir Cosmo and Miss Whitnell. For some reason, I was asked to remain near Paolo, perhaps because of my peculiar ability to dispel the phantom.

We reconvened at, of all places, an office at the Reading Room at the British Museum. We met up with Sir Anthony, Mr. Ramsay, as well as a lady introduced as Mrs. Godwin, who is the leader of the Order of St. Jerome. (And I must say that for all my disinterest in the occult, I found her a very acute and charismatic person, and I was honored to meet her.)
Paolo was whisked away. I'm told he was subjected to some occult interrogation, and his spirit, the phantom, was imprisoned in some kind of relic. I can only hope that my spiritualist colleagues aren't really as mad as this makes them sound, for in all other ways I find them intelligent and reliable.

The motive for the crimes by the monkey and Paolo are tied up in Paolo's parentage and the inheritance of the Scarisbrick titles.
Paolo is apparently the son of the late Baron's only son, Andrew, by a woman he met during his travels in Brazil.

Paolo believed that he was entitled to inherit after Andrew's death, and traveled to England to introduce himself to the family. The Baron told him he was illegitimate (though there is some suggestion that Andrew was actually married to Paolo's mother), and not able to inherit.

Due to some peculiarities of the Scarisbrick barony, Paolo believed that he could still inherit if all the other grandchildren of the Baron were killed. I think that the hyper-intelligent Iota fostered this belief for its own ends. I think that the nasty creature was motivated mainly by malice. What a shame, that the innocence of a natural animal could be so distorted by adding a human level of intelligence. From what I've learned of the Baron, he was not a particularly gentle or compassionate person, and probably mistreated his subjects and his assistants alike in most demeaning ways.
I'm sure there's a moral in that.

When we returned, tired and scorched, from our various adventures, we were greeted at the door by none other than Salmalin, who had left Hospital and was commencing in his duties as a footman. I was surprisingly happy to see him, Perhaps because I foresee a need of his extraodinary skills to keep our household secure. Or perhaps I'm starting at shadows. After my difficult day, all the challenges to my sense of reason, and near death by cyanide poisoning, I shouldn't be surprised that I'm nervous.

Proceed to 3. Now Comes the Anxiety

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