Tuesday, 31 May, 1870

We started our day with exercises, breakfast and Hindi lessons.

I had a note from Mr Scuddamore in the post...he was quite understanding of my desire for revisions. I feel awful that I completely forgot the appointment I'd requested of him yesterday! Of course, he had not sent to assent to my request, but I still should not have forgotten it.

I wrote him a quick note putting off the delivery of the "revisions." I am still unsure as to what I should do about my unfortunate nom-de-plume. I was half resolved to tell all, but I just haven't had time enough to think it through. I'd like to try telling Mr Scuddamore first, but I don't know him well enough to know if he'll keep it to himself if I ask it.

Lord Greyminster and Miss Pinker came to lunch, to offer felicitations to Sir Cosmo and Miss Chigwidgeon. I can hardly believe how genuinely pleased they seem to be!

We had an appointment with Lady Ottoline after lunch. We wanted to ask her if she had any insights regarding inconspicuous protective clothing for ladies in our line of work.

Four of our League met with Lady Ottoline: Miss Whitnell, Miss Chigwidgeon, Mrs Cuthbert, and I, with Edward driving us in the carriage.

Lady Ottoline introduced us to one of her teaching staff, Miss Emily Bertilde. This young woman is apparently an expert with a variety of weapons. When we came in to the gymnasium, she was teaching a group of about a dozen girls fencing--by parrying all of their blows as fast as they could be delivered.

Lady Ottoline told us that Miss Bertilde had written an article about the very topic we had come to discuss. After her class finished, she went to fetch a copy of her paper to show us.

While she was out of the room, Lady Ottoline confided that Miss Bertilde, for all her martial accomplishments, is painfully shy. She is particularly uncomfortable around men she doesn't know. Teaching at a Girls' School has given her a protective environment, but Lady Ottoline thinks she needs a broader range of experience at this point.

A little later, the other ladies were out of the room and Lady Ottoline spoke privately with me about Edward. This was awkward at first, because I did not want to divulge Edward's secret. Fortunately, Lady Ottoline quickly made it clear that Sir Cosmo had informed her of the situation. (She had some choice words to describe Sir Cosmo's failure to disclose this situation earlier) We spoke frankly about the difficulties I've been facing with Edward's recent unwillingness to listen to my advice and direction. What a relief to have a knowledgeable and sympathetic ear!

Lady Ottoline has proposed a solution to two problems at once: She wishes to introduce Miss Bertilde into Sir Cosmo's household as Edward's protector. She could also help expand our Defence training.

We introduced the two of them in the gymnasium (where Edward had been playing on the climbing equipment). We suggested a little game of "tag," to see if Miss Bertilde would be able to keep up with Edward at all. She did quite well, for although she does not climb as quickly as Edward, she is fast on the ground and has very commendable stamina.

When we put the proposal to Miss Bertilde, she was uncertain. She was still arguing against the necessity of her leaving the School with Lady Ottoline when we made our adieux.

Our next stop was the dressmakers, for final fittings on new ensembles for each of us ladies.

Miss Chigwidgeon had another ballgown, an evening dress, a walking costume and a carriage dress to try.

Miss Whitnell had a new evening dress and some new petticoats, plus a Reform-style skirt and trousers, all in black.

Mrs Cuthbert had an evening dress, and a walking dress.

I tried my new plum evening ensemble. I asked them to leave the bodice and skirt separate, so I will be able to make the long skirt removable, in my new pattern. I don't know if it will all be ready for the recital tomorrow evening.

We also made a brief stop at the Milliner's for evening gloves all 'round, and a few good handkerchiefs. I also got some feathers and some blue silk roses with which to retrim my dark blue ballgown.

When we returned to Mayfair, we found an apprehensive Miss Bertilde settling her meager belongings in the room next to mine. I am very pleased to have her with us, as I have doubts about my ability to protect Edward from the kinds of Trouble I know he can get into.

Miss Bertilde will certainly benefit from being in this household. We (that is, Miss Whitnell, Mrs Cuthbert, and I), can undertake her tutelage in Social Graces at the same time as we put the polish on Miss Chigwidgeon. Perhaps Wilhelmina will pick up a few pointers, but I won't get my hopes up.

We all had tea more-or-less together. We settled our plans for tomorrow's recital, at least as to who would attend.

Sir Cosmo's box seats eight: Sir Cosmo, Miss Chigwidgeon, Mr Cuthbert, Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Whitnell, Miss Bertilde, Dr Wilson, and me.

Edward will stay with the carriage, along with Salmalin and Owen. I feel somewhat nervous about Edward, but it would definitely attract attention if we brought Edward into the Recital and the Reception. And we daren't leave him home when we will be so far. Salmalin will keep him safe, and we can check on them at intermissions. We have to carry on to keep from exposing Edward's identity.

I understand that Lt Wooster will be attending with an Admiral of his acquaintance. Mr Ramsay told us he would be present as well, in the company of his brother, Baron Culbin.

In the evening I did some sewing while Edward read aloud from a text of his choice (a steam-engine manual, of course).

He is required to sleep indoors for the present, and he is not pleased with the situation. He complains that he can't work on his mechanical projects if he's not in the stables. We told him to bring a small project indoors. He took this as a convenient method to punish us all for keeping him confined, and started pounding on something at 11:30 at night. I was trying to decide if shouting at him would help or hinder, when Graves came up the stairs and instructed him to cease. Fortunately, he respects Graves.

It is now 1:30 in the morning, and I think I will try to sleep.

Wednesday, 1 June, 1870
(midday)

Miss Bertilde doesn't feel at home with us yet. We invited her to join our morning exercises. She declined, but I saw her watching us work.

The morning paper had a story about the death of Lord Clarendon, the Foreign Minister.

According to the report, Lord Clarendon died of natural causes. However, some suspicious circumstances remain: A mysterious figure, an unmarked wagon and papers apparently missing. It could all be invented to make the story more exciting--it certainly sounds melodramatic.

I hate to think that we might be called in on it later, after all the evidence has been handled by who-knows-how- many people and the scene has been scuffed up by scores of careless feet. Oh, well, we will have to examine that bridge when we come to it.

Edward and I did Latin, History, and Mathematics in the late morning. I am still unsure whether I am actually teaching him anything new. Of course, Edward might understand something and yet not know the conventional means of expressing it, so my lessons must have some value.
If he decides to show me he knows something already, I will gladly proceed to the next topic. But, he never does.

While I was doing lessons with Edward, Miss Bertilde was being outfitted in one of Miss Chigwidgeon's evening gowns. They are fairly close in size. I am similarly sized as well, but I have nothing worth borrowing. Miss Chigwidgeon, on the other hand, has a huge selection of gowns which she hasn't worn yet.

I will wear my same dark blue. I don't think anyone will really remember me from last time I wore it. I have retrimmed it with my lighter blue roses, and I will add a different bertha. No one will be looking at me. Besides, I have got it adjusted so I can remove the skirt and crinoline and have the short skirt with trousers underneath, in case of emergency. There is always an emergency.

Wednesday, 1 June, 1870
(evening)

We will be leaving for the Recital shortly. I am ready, and the other ladies are seeing to one another's buttons. I need a quiet moment before we all descend to the carriages.

The afternoon post brought welcome news...a note from Mr Frazer! He seems to be in good health, and expressed a flattering eagerness to see me as soon as our respective duties will allow. Of course, we cannot know when that will be.

I wrote a return note offering to help in whatever way we can.

Miss Whitnell had written to Mr MacGregor, inviting him to tea. He told us that he had taken a position with the Metropolitan Police as an Inspector. We all offered him our congratulations. How convenient it will be for us to have a reliable contact within the Police. I suppose that is part of why Sir Sebastian arranged it. Inspector MacGregor seems particularly well suited to the types of investigations we so often undertake.

He gave us an update on the Sentenza case, mainly that the Order of St Jerome has things well in hand.

He further told us that he is working on the Clarendon case, right alongside Mr Frazer (I gave my note to Inspector MacGregor to deliver at his next convenience). Inspector MacGregor shared his suspicions and news of his evidence with us.

The newspaper was at least partly accurate...There were reports of a mysterious tall man in a dark coat going along outside the upper windows. I thought for a moment it might be that Stepney Ghost again, but he is still imprisoned in the flask.

Inspector MacGregor found some unusual hand prints on a drainpipe, and a folded paper bird in Lord Clarendon's office closet. Some papers do appear to be missing, but no one can yet say precisely what they contained.

Inspector MacGregor asked Miss Whitnell and the Mystical contingent to try to "see" what happened. They described a tall, lanky man, who was able to conceal himself in the wardrobe in Lord Clarendon's office. Some time later, Lord Clarendon came in and sat at the desk. At that point, the tall man emerged. He made what Mrs Cuthbert described as a "sorcerous" gesture, and Lord Clarendon slumped in his seat, apparently dead.

Mrs Cuthbert led a seance to contact Lord Clarendon's spirit and ask him directly what had happened, but they were unable to reach him. Instead, Miss Chigwidgeon had a sort of fit and pronounced that "he has been taken by the Left Hand."

The three of them proceeded to search out Mr Salmalin to ask him about the "Left Hand." He attempted to explain, but as with many occult and religious matters, the whole thing was rather vague and incomprehensible. It had something to do with Retribution.

The Mystics are planning to visit Lord Clarendon's office to try to learn more at the scene.

But that will have to wait for tomorrow. Our carriage awaits!

Thursday, 2 June 1870
(very early morning)

The evening went from normal, to mysterious, to bizarre, to horrific, to complete enervation in a matter of hours. It always seems to happen like this.

We attended the Recital with no untoward occurrence.

The singing was nice, if one likes that sort of thing. Very educational, I'm sure. The singer was a Madame Gabriella Ducarrielle. I suppose she could fit a few more ells and arrs into her name if she only tried harder.

After the performance, we left the Criterion Theater to attend the reception at some nearby Rooms. We stopped and spoke with Edward and Salmalin briefly, and they reported all quiet.

The Reception was interesting. I saw many faces familiar from Lord Greyminster's party (I was glad I took the time to retrim my gown).

I stood with Miss Bertilde. Miss Whitnell and I had to hold her up between us to stop her bobbing curtsies like a scullerymaid. She settled down a bit in time, and I was able to introduce her to Lord James Thorncroft and Lord Henry Adair. When I went to introduce her to Mr Ramsay and his brother, I found them trapped in conversation with Baron Blackhall.

I gave Miss Bertilde a quiet warning about Blackhall being a man to be wary of, then went ahead to make introductions and be introduced in turn. I must have been feeling devilish, as I extended my hand upon being introduced to Blackhall. I smiled quite sweetly, as though not noticing his discomfort at touching me.

Baron Blackhall had a few foreigners hanging about him. The most prominent was Count Lukasha Zivonovich Orlov, the latest Russian Ambassador. He went on about developing railways in Russia, and they all seemed to be trying to get Mr Ramsay to introduce them to Sir Cosmo. Also with them were a Mr Petrov (Orlov's assistant) and a Mr and Mrs Gower (who, I take it, are also in Railroads).

I met Lady Ffolkes, and introduced Miss Bertilde to her. She in turn introduced a French gentleman, Henri de Batier, the Marquis de Mont-something de Dragu-something. He was pleasant, for a Frenchman. I gather that he comes from one of the families who fled the Terror ages ago, and is living in England as an Expatriate. I was surprised that he had such a strong accent, considering that he must have grown up mostly in England. Anyway, he's a great supporter of the Legion Fidele. He is also, it seems, very interested in Rocketry, and wanted to know all about Dr Wilson.

Everyone at the Reception wanted to meet Sir Cosmo's fiancee. The Legion Fidele got rather short shrift, as everyone was far more interested in seeing Miss Chigwidgeon ("so that's the gel who snagged the old boy, eh? fine little thing, har har har."). Well, to be honest, most people were much nicer about it than I would have expected.

Miss Chigwidgeon and Sir Cosmo seemed more at ease than I would have thought, and both very charmingly happy. Most of the other attendees seem to have been won over for the time being.

Miss Whitnell had moved across the room nearer Miss Chigwidgeon. I saw her and Mrs Cuthbert exchange some meaningful looks regarding a lady who came in with Lord Michael Hope--Lady Miranda Derwent, I heard her named. She had, I thought, the same air of overblown mysticism as Mme Zephyrine had. All that antique foreign jewelry clattering about her!

Miss Whitnell gave me the look as Lady Miranda approached Sir Cosmo and Miss Chigwidgeon, and I started to move that way to try to repel her. A moment later, however, a surreptitious gesture from Miss Whitnell forestalled me. Miss Whitnell said later that Miss Chigwidgeon had decided to meet Lady Miranda, despite Mrs Cuthbert's warning of her sorcerous power (I am beginning to see that Miss Chigwidgeon doesn't shrink from a challenge).

Miss Bertilde and I watched closely from across the room. Perhaps that is why Mr Frazer was able to surprise me. I greeted him and introduced him to Miss Bertilde. He indicated that he was attending the Reception on Police Business, and showed me a little folded paper that he had gotten from the Clarendon crime scene. He explained that the paper contained an advertisement for this recital, and he hoped to find a clue here. I carefully did not touch it, and suggested that perhaps my colleagues could examine it and learn more. I invited him to join us at Charles Street when we departed this party.

Miss Bertilde, mindful of her duties, suggested that she should go check on Edward. She was right, and so I and Miss Whitnell and Mr Frazer all went outside with her.

As we stepped outside, we saw a very tall man disappearing around the corner. Mr Frazer declared that he matched the description of the mysterious figure at the Foreign Office. I went to Edward and asked if he'd seen the man closely. Edward said that it might be his Father! How very unexpected.

We followed the retreating man's path and found a little folded paper in the shape of a monkey, but the man was out of sight. I looked up to the roofs and just glimpsed a thuggee-looking figure vanishing. I climbed up to the roof and saw George, who pointed off in another direction. I spoke with George and he indicated that this other thuggee and the tall man seemed to be working together. George was, wisely, staying close to Edward.

Mr Frazer had gone further down the street and had found another paper animal. This tall man was obviously taunting us and leaving a trail. He must imagine that we are all idiots. It was plainly time to get reinforcements. Just as we went in to gather our colleagues, Mr Ramsay received word of an emergency at the St Jerome's Chapterhouse...Sentenza's body had been stolen (or should I say it escaped?).

Lady Ffolkes and Caine came to us and suggested that the French Marquis, Henri de Batier, might be helpful if we ran into difficulties. He offered the use of his gig, which he said was capable of quite a turn of speed.

Mr Ramsay, Miss Whitnell, and he rushed off, trying to reach the Chapterhouse as quickly as possible.

The rest of us sorted into various carriages. I ended up with Mr Frazer near me, so I informed him of the events surrounding our apprehending Sentenza. I was afraid, for a moment, that he would consider our errand irrelevant to his investigation and run off alone to find the tall man, but for whatever reason he stayed with us.

When we arrived at the Chapterhouse, Miss Whitnell and Mr Ramsay were already there and assessing the situation.

We were shown to the chamber where the body had been secured. I stayed out of the way as Miss Whitnell summoned a vision of recent events. She reported seeing a pair of thuggees attacking the chamber's guard using a garrote. They then carried Sentenza's body through a hole broken through the chamber wall, which led into some catacombs of the old city.

Mr Cuthbert and I then took the lead to follow their trail. We found a chamber further on which had rice flour strewn on the floor in a mystic-looking pattern, and the claw-marks of a raven.

We kept following. I was fooled briefly by a false trail, but fortunately Mr Cuthbert spotted the real path before I'd gone far. We continued, up some disused stairs and into an alley. We could see some recent signs of a wagon, but
they were quickly obscured upon leaving the alley for the busier street.

The Mystics used their spells again while Mr Frazer and I were attempting to follow the tracks. They described the thuggees, now 6 in number, with the body, joining 2 hindu-looking women, all getting into a good-sized wagon pulled by two horses. A further spell indicated that the body was now located somewhere 3 miles away and South, which would put it approximately in Miss Chigwidgeon's old neighborhood. A group of people could easily carry a decomposing body around in that area without provoking any particular comment.

As we neared the area in question, we met up with another party from St Jerome's, who help pinpoint the location.

We found ourselves at a pub called The Black Lion. Who should be on duty at the door? Mr Rip Chigwidgeon. He seemed at once pleased to see his daughter and her fancy friends and yet apprehensive of our purpose there, especially when we started asking questions about the doings in the cellars and back rooms. After some coaxing from Miss Chigwidgeon, he told us that the Young Cobb used to hold meetings there.

We went round to look for a back entrance, and found a very dim alley leading into a courtyard. I went up to the roof to try to see if the Wagon was in there, but I couldn't see. I wanted to sneak in to reconnoiter, but Miss Whitnell declared it too dangerous to go in blind.

About this time, George turned up and confirmed what Mr Chigwidgeon had said, and further said that "Master Tandu" and "The Accountant" still use this place to meet and work.

We were asking George what else he could tell us about the defenses and how to enter, when Mrs Cuthbert realised that she could use her crystal to see inside the rooms.

I returned quickly from my "safe distance" upon hearing that Mr Salmalin was already within, having ventured in without us. He was already surrounded by Thuggees, presumably his former colleagues.

Miss Whitnell's reticence vanished immediately, and we rushed in (fortunately, George did know how to open the secret door). Miss Chigwidgeon had the presence of mind to wedge the door open before going through. Miss Whitnell used some kind of magic to make a bright light, but she then stayed behind to guard our retreat.

I did my best to stay near Edward, as here we were going directly to the lair of his probable enemies. Fortunately, Miss Bertilde had better luck than I did in this endeavour.

It was hard to follow the next few minutes, as the Melee was well underway by the time I made it around the corner, and the passageway was crowded with my colleagues all trying to reach the fight. All I could really tell was that it was a vicious and bloody battle in very close quarters. Firearms were difficult to use, because Salmalin and his 8 opponents were moving very fast.

I managed to throw one stone, landing a good blow on one thuggee's head. The day was carried mainly by Salmalin himself, Miss Bertilde (who was, in fact Very Efficient with her two long knives), George, and the Marquis. Dr Wilson also dove in with aplomb, getting off more bullets than I would have thought safe. Edward was in the thick of it at the other side of the room when I arrived, too late to keep him clear of it. Mr Frazer remained near me, and I had the odd impression that he was taking notes.

All but one of the thuggees were killed in the fight. The remaining one, apparently the leader and trainer of the rest, had Salmalin quite hard pressed. Mr Cuthbert, I understand, turned the tide by shooting this opponent in the arm. He then escaped by crashing through a wall into an underground passageway. Dr Wilson and the Marquis attempted to follow, but lost him in the dark and then fell into a sewer line. They were in a very sorry state when they emerged.

Meanwhile, Mrs Cuthbert was working her treatments on Salmalin, who had taken a blade through the shoulder.

Now we had more leisure to examine this room...As we expected, Sentenza's body was here. Far from reviving him as we had feared, the body-snatchers had hung his corpse grotesquely on the wall, with a large ribbon bow attached to him...a gift to us? Also nearby, the Raven was confined to a very small area by a set of mystic markings which it apparently could not cross.

We discovered a secret door, which led to a study of some sort. It included :
-2 desks (one a gentleman's, one a clerk's)
-a library of varied books--literature, history, science.
-a worktable fitted out as for a surgery
-a cabinet of surgical and other tools

It seems possible that this room was a torture chamber as well as a business office. A grotesque idea, but well in keeping with my understanding of the Young Cobb's methods.

The desks appeared to have been cleared of papers, much to Mr Frazer's disappointment. Mr Frazer set about making a detailed inventory of the other evidence.

Edward was eager to take the scalpels and other tools for his own use. Miss Whitnell and I were simultaneous in forbidding it. She felt they were tainted by their previous use. While I also found it repugnant, I mainly did not want quite so many very sharp implements in Edward's impulsive hands.

Mr Frazer quelled the argument: he looked shocked at Edward's idea, and said, "They're Evidence!"

Before long, Inspector MacGregor joined us, as did additional personnel from St Jerome's.

Miss Whitnell and Inspector MacGregor interrogated the Raven, which was, as we suspected, Sentenza's associate.

They reported that it was very upset. It had sought help to retrieve its "master" from captivity at the St Jerome's Chapterhouse. It had allied itself with a sorcerer, who had then apparently betrayed the Raven and used it and Sentenza as bait to lure us into this confrontation. The Raven described the sorcerer, it sounds like it could be Baron Blackhall.

After this interrogation was concluded, the St Jerome's team performed some ritual to dispel the Raven Spirit.

Meanwhile, Mr Salmalin had recovered enough to tell us about his ill-advised reconnoitering.

When he entered the main room of this headquarters, his brief conversation with "Master Tandu" made it clear to him that these thuggees were not responsible for the theft of Sentenza's body, and in fact blamed Salmalin for bringing it.

Therefore we must conclude that this entire chain of events was set up to provoke this destructive confrontation. If only we'd been more circumspect in coming down here, we might have been able to avoid this fight. I was quite angry when I realised this, though Salmalin's account suggests that Master Tandu was not inclined to reason.

Miss Whitnell chastised Salmalin at some length for going into the situation without consulting the group (though I can tell you, consultation with Miss Whitnell can delay action to the point of absurdity). He replied that he had told Miss Chigwidgeon about his plan. Miss Chigwidgeon looked abashed. Perhaps Mr Salmalin doesn't realise how much we value him. He seemed embarrassed when Miss Whitnell said that he is not expendable.

Miss Whitnell, always prone to imperative declarations, has also told Edward firmly that he must tell Miss Bertilde the Secret. I concurred. Unfortunately, she followed up by saying, "If you don't tell her, Miss Sinclair will!" As if the rift between Edward and myself were not deep enough already. Now Miss Whitnell forces me to choose between a struggle with Edward or else undermining Miss Whitnell's authority by not doing as she has said.

We eventually made our way home. We have all gone to our respective rooms and homes to recover. I, for one, am thoroughly tired and confused by the night's events. I hoped that writing this account would bring me clarity and allow me to rest, but I am still perplexed.

At least no one's crinoline caught fire.

Thursday, 2 June, 1870
(continued)

Edward is still awake and doing some sort of chemical experiments. I hesitate to get into an argument trying to make him stop, we've vexed each other enough for one day. The smell doesn't seem to be bothering anyone else, and he hasn't caused any explosions so far.

I might as well use my time to record some musings on the events of today.

It would appear that we are thoroughly embroiled in this factional strife among criminals, and that the scope of the conflict is expanding. The dynamics of the situation are yet beyond my grasp.

I know that Mr Frazer has been carefully cataloguing incidents and information, and that Inspector MacGregor is also privy to some of this information. If I can collect my thoughts, I might be able to ask them some intelligent questions.

Perhaps Mr Salmalin will even be able to shed some light, He seems reluctant to talk in detail about his time with the Organisation, but I've noticed that he always answers Miss Chigwidgeon's questions.

Where to begin?

First: What exactly was the "Young Cobb's" organisation?

It seems to have consisted of interlaced elements of secular crimes, "sorcery," and religious cult.

Jerrold Moriarty has been described as a powerful "sorcerer", due to his "return from the dead." He somehow recruited this cult of Kali to be his elite army.

He also had a significant network of more common criminals--purveyors of dangerous drugs, prostitution, extortion.

He also appears to have had some involvement with international and industrial espionage.

What I don't understand in all this is Causality. Was he criminal or sorcerer first? Did he have a genuine devotion to Kali, or had he simply taken on Kali's name to manipulate and recruit an army of believers? Did he actually use some sort of sorcery to "return from the dead," or was it some kind of trick?

All these questions about Moriarty's capabilities and motivations are directly related to the divisions among his former followers; the different factions were following different aspects of Moriarty, and without him, their agendas diverge.

How did we come to be so embroiled?

The fact that we were present at the time of Moriarty's death leads some of his religiously-devoted followers to believe that we were responsible for his death (the fact that his own dishonourable behaviour killed him seems irrelevant to them). In this vein, it seems to me that Moriarty and Sir Cosmo had some old personal animosity. If any of Moriarty's henchmen wish to pursue a vendetta, Sir Cosmo would be a likely target.

Also, we have Mr Salmalin with us, and now George as well. Some of the various cultists no doubt view this as a betrayal. Other thuggees would probably attack "our" thuggees if given an opportunity.

Now, we also have Wilhelmina to think of. Eventually the various factions which are searching for her will find their ways to us.

Which brings me to a rather dreadful matter...Sir Cosmo and Salmalin have put forth a proposal:
Since at least one of the Factions is supposedly looking for Wilhelmina in order to promote her as Moriarty's Heir, they suggest that we find them and let them follow Wilhelmina.

This idea has some merit, in that then at least one faction will not be actively threatening us.

However, it would probably mean exposing Wilhelmina's connexions with us (though the Secret Identity is being inexorably eroded in the course of events in any case).

This is, on the whole, a very bad idea! Whatever the partisans of "the Heir" are saying, I doubt they truly want a young girl to lead them. At best, they would be hoping for a tractable figurehead, someone they groom to "lead" them where they want to go.

Wilhelmina seems to be quite intelligent for her age, but could she really control hardened criminals and religious fanatics? Ridiculous!

And why would we want to get involved with a criminal organisation? Only ill can come of it.

But I digress.

We have observed several individuals, factions and plots which might be a part of this issue of Moriarty's organisation.

1) "Master Tandu" and "the Accountant." Claim to be maintaining some loyalty to Moriarty. Assets include allegiance of numerous Thuggees, and perhaps much information about Moriarty's finances.

2) Baron Blackhall. Implicated (by Raven) in the Sentenza body theft. Possibly connected with Lady Miranda Derwent (based on similar jewelry and reported "sorcerous aura") Apparently taking an active interest in making trouble for the League. A longtime enemy of our Mr Ramsay. Assets include at least 6 Thuggees. Relationship with the late Moriarty unknown

3) Moriarty's son/Edward's Father? Implicated (by witnesses and by our Mystics) in the murder of Lord Clarendon. Was apparently trying to lead Edward and/or the rest of us into some other trap when we were called away to St Jerome's Chapterhouse this past evening. This suggests a cross purpose to Blackhall. Will this person refocus the interest of some of the Factions pursuing or supporting "Moriarty's Heir?"

Assets: possible "sorcerous" capability. Is it possible that such a person could induce a fatal attack or seizure, such as that suffered by Lord Clarendon, with a gesture? I shudder to think on it. Given the number of magical persons we have encountered, it seems amazing that we haven't all mysteriously dropped dead before now. It is possible that Lord Clarendon was simply frightened to death by this sinister figure appearing suddenly before him.

Is this person in league with one of the Thuggee sects? Does he have a specific grudge against Lord Clarendon, or was he mainly interested in the papers he stole?

4) What about Wilhelmina's Mother? I don't know if she presents a threat to anyone but Wilhelmina, or if she has any allies or other assets. It would appear that she has some criminal history, Prostitution in particular. I don't know if she is a Procurer or a, well, direct participant.

5) the Left Hand, whatever that is.

I am surely tired enough to sleep by now. I can barely keep my grip on my pen.

Thursday, June 2, 1870
(near dawn)

I am still awake, I feel entirely deranged. All my efforts to distract myself with logic and methodical thinking are not helping. As soon as I turn down the lamp and lie down, my thoughts drift back to the most nonsensical and frustrating topics. I have no choice but to face this and hope that writing my thoughts will restore some semblance of rationality. Tomorrow I might tear up this page and forget about it.

I would never have believed that a settled spinster like myself could be so perturbed. Yet, I must admit to myself that I am quite infatuated.

In the midst of the reception, with everything else going on, Mr Frazer caught me entirely by surprise. Yet, when he cleared his throat, right behind me, I knew who I would see when I turned.

My mind was completely emptied in that instant. After a brief pause ( well, I hope it was brief to everyone else) I turned and realised that I had been rehearsing this meeting for weeks, without even knowing it. Now here he was, and my mind was absolutely empty of any scintillating repartee.

The moment passed, and I like to think that I behaved normally. Mr Frazer was polite, but proceeded directly to the business regarding the Clarendon murder.

The whole thing seems so anti-climactic. What was I expecting? An earth-shaking Shakespearean declaration? I'm sure I would have found any such thing silly and unsatisfactory. So why do I feel disappointed?

Mr Frazer's letters, during his absence, seemed full of constrained ardor. I had been thinking, as I read them, "Oh, this poor fool has fallen in love with me. Well, perhaps he's a good match, we'll have to wait and see."

Now I find circumstances quite the reverse. I am completely, idiotically smitten. I have no idea what he is thinking. I vacillate between believing that he loves me and is struggling to maintain a gentlemanly propriety, and being certain that he is completely indifferent to me.

I am so furious with him, and with myself, I can hardly sit still, in fact I keep getting up and racing around my room like an angry wasp in a jar.

One of the worst thoughts in this: although I have been so unaware of what was in my own heart, what if my colleagues have all seen it? what if they are smirking to themselves? I have a much clearer understanding of all my past charges who have ever struggled with this state of mind. How aggravating to have the shoe on the other foot.

What will I do now? I can only hope that I can maintain some semblance of composure until the infatuation wanes. I am determined not to make a fool of myself.

Even the logical part of my mind agrees that Mr Frazer is one of the most admirable men I have ever met, and he seems to hold me in some respect. And yet, we have never had an ordinary social occasion to actually become acquainted.

He might not like me at all once he discovers how self-willed and disagreeable I really am. Besides, my life is just now becoming really interesting. I haven't come this far only to shackle myself.

And Now, I hear I hear Molly coming down the corridor. I might as well dress and prepare for the day as best I can. Even now, I find myself wondering if Mr Frazer will come to call.

Proceed to Many challenges to my composure

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