Most everything is packed and ready for our departure to Edenfield Court tomorrow.

Now that Mr Frazer and the Inspector have a Police task to complete in Manchester, we do not have to wait for the end of their workday to travel, and we will be leaving in the morning. I will be going to Manchester with them, since it is only a matter of getting off the train a little earlier, then catching another to continue the journey. Our luggage, such as it is, will continue all the way to Edenfield with David and Stuart to mind it.

Mr Frazer did not object when I indicated my plan to go into Manchester with him. It seemed wise, since one never knows if their work will involve some sort of delay that might keep them in Manchester longer. I would not like to be waiting about at Edenfield while they muck about without me.

Emily will also be with us, since otherwise she would have to continue to Edenfield without the benefit of female company. David and Stuart are very polite and she seems to get along with them well enough, but she has seemed a little...disturbed recently, and I wouldn't like an unpleasant incident to mar our holiday.

Emily is to be released from her usual task of watching over Mrs Whitnell and Miss Betty while the two of them travel back to Cheshire to spend Easter with Mr John Whitnell and the family there. I detected a steely glint in Mrs Whitnell's eye when she mentioned that Mrs John Whitnell has taken to her bed since mid-March and needs some Attending To.

Friday, 31 March, 1871

Our train journey was happily uneventful. Mr Frazer and the Inspector and I reviewed the notes of the case so far.

The strangest thing about this case is the selection of victims:

• a furniture mender, an upholsterer, and a furniture seller. In each case, the perpetrator seems to have made a concerted search for personal papers, particularly any
• pertaining to the wife of the tradesman in question.
• In each case, jewelry and money that were ready to hand were snatched up as well, but that did not seem to be the primary goal.

Perhaps this burglar is looking for a particular woman, one who is known from before her marriage, and the burglar has only the information that she married some kind of furniture maker. The series of buglaries suggests that the burglar doesn't even know the woman by sight or know her Christian name, else he would bide and watch until he identified her before breaking in. If this theory proves out, I would suspect that the burglar is acting as an agent for someone else.

We arrived in Manchester and were greeted by gentlemen from the Manchester Police, who are much more pleasant than the ones we met in Liverpool.

Indeed, the Manchester Police's Records Clerk shook my Mr Frazer's hand with evident enthusiasm and complimented his most recent treatise on his improved filing and indexing system.

We learned that Mr A. Timson, the suspect we had come to interview, had been incarcerated there in Manchester during all but the first of the burglaries we are investigating (and even that first would have required absurdly unlikely timetables in order for Mr Timson to be the perpetrator).

We interviewed the suspect despite the fact we were certain of his innocence in our case. It proved very interesting.

This fellow is an itinerant tinker, mending pots and pipes and so forth. He is a lesser member of one of the Southwerk families so well known to Inspector MacGreggor. Before he turned his skills to mending, he specialised in breaking up and remaking stolen jewelry.

He was singled out in Kennington Road case by another suspect, allegedly because of a familial grudge.
Mr Timson avows that he has reformed, and he does seem to be making an adequate living in the tinker line. His present incarceration was due to public drunkenness, rather than anything more criminal.

When the Inspector asked him about that, he described an unsettling experience which had prompted him to drink more than he ought: he had seen and spoken to the ghost of a criminal of the Malloy clan, who had warned him to get out of Bury and never return.

From experience, we know better than to ignore ominous ghostly warnings, however unlikely they might seem.

We looked into the death of the Malloy man, and discovered that he had been taken up some 20 years ago in a burglary case, and had died of diphtheria in gaol before his hearing. The victim of the burglary was none other than Mr Nathan Shorrock, the naturalist. The major item lost was necklace with a very large diamond, described in the case records as the "Harry" diamond.

So, while we have made only process-of-elimination progress in the Kennington Road case, we are becoming embroiled in a 20-year-old unsolved case right here in Sir Cosmo's county.

Before we left Manchester, I wired ahead to tell our hosts which train we would be taking. I was not surprised to see Edward with the carriage. I was slightly surprised to see the Marquis de Montmerial de Dragagulan in a horseless contraption. This was his own steam-powered gig. He and Edward had, I gathered, raced here, and the Marquis was intending to race back.

I found this utterly absurd. There was sufficient space in the carriage for all of us. I held my Mr Frazer's arm tightly, hoping he wouldn't volunteer to ride with the Marquis, just to be polite. Alas, that left the Inspector unprotected. He gallantly took up the Marquis' invitation.

We all arrived in time for dinner (Lady Cowperthwaite had delayed dinner slightly in expectation of our arrival). However, it took some time to extricate the Inspector from the shrubbery. I did not remain to observe the damage to the Marquis and his gig--it serves him right for reckless driving.

After dinner, I asked Lady Cowperthwaite for a private interview, and I told her of my impending Motherhood. She promised to speak to Sir Cosmo about it, and to tell him of my wish to continue as the household's tutor. She kindly asked if I required anything for my comfort, so I asked if she could request of the cook to keep a bit of cold chicken on hand, as it seems the best thing for unexpected hunger pangs.

In the morning I will inform such of our female colleagues as don't yet know. I have told Benton that he may inform the gentlemen.

Saturday, 1 April, 1871

It's rather a relief to have revealed the Secret of my Condition. I don't have to try to disguise my fits of hunger or of sickness, nor worry that the servants will figure it out (though I must admit that the staff at No. 12 have probably discerned it some time since, between the cook and the laundry maids).

I found Wilhelmina in the Nursery. As I came in, before I said anything, she gave me charming congratulations. I don't know how she learned of it, but I can't say I'm surprised.

Now the Fussing has begun. When I discreetly mentioned it to Emily before our exercises this morning, she looked quite surprised --at least there's one person who didn't suspect! She asked me if I was alright, and looked so concerned, you'd think I'd told her I had broken my arm or had malaria or something.

In retrospect, I realise that with her work with the Society for the Protection of Women and Infants, she has mostly encountered women who are not happy to be in this Condition. I think she wasn't sure if I was giving her bad news or good news. But then I wasn't exactly sure when I first learned of it myself. I still find the whole thing fairly frightening.

Emily was extremely solicitous about the exercises, I was afraid she would refuse to work with me for fear of doing me, or I might say "us", harm.

When Mrs Salmalin joined us, she also evinced concern about whether the exercises were safe for me--even though she has known of my Condition and we even took our exercise together just this last week.
I assured everyone that my amended regimen has been approved by Mrs Cuthbert. I pointed out that an attacking enemy will not likely spare me because of my Condition, so I must keep in fighting trim as best I can without unnecessary risks. And keep my gun loaded.

I could tell that Mr Frazer had discharged his task, as I received kind felicitations from several of the gentlemen throughout the morning. Mr O'Flaherty always seems to have a flowery speech at the ready! I also received the less-subdued congratulations of Lt Wooster, who gave me a hearty slap on the back and a loud "Good Show!" sort of comment before Mr Caine could rein him in.

I heard the Inspector muttering into the air, and concluded that Sgt Frazer is handing around ghostly cigars again, and the late Mr MacGreggor is complaining about it.

We all went into the town of Ramsbottom in the late morning, ostensibly to observe Miss Wilhelmina's fitting for her Easter dress. When we arrived, we learned that Lady Cowperthwaite had ordered Easter dresses made for all the ladies of our party as a surprise gift. All of us had fittings. The shop is not very big, and the whole process took rather a long time.

I was famished by the time we were done. Fortunately, Mr Frazer had been looking around the town and had found the chips stand, and brought me a very nice packet of fish. He has learned to be wary of my rebellious stomach, though. He kept it wrapped and out of sight until I said, "What is that heavenly smell? I'm so hungry!" and then he produced it from among a few parcels.

The rest of the ladies were very amused, except Wilhelmina, who wanted to know if he had brought her some. I shared a piece with her. She is a growing and energetic child, after all, and in her own way she is also eating "for two."

I was horrified at the idea of being fit in a dress made to my measure of some months ago, but by some miracle, the dress was cut large enough. I asked Mrs Salmalin if she had warned the dressmaker, but she said that the dresses were a complete surprise to her as well. She suggested that Tattvick had a hand in the ordering. She knows our tastes from her extended time with all of us on the continent. Mrs Salmalin insists that she did not mention my Condition even to Tattvick, but she thinks that Tattvick recognised it for herself. Considering that I had last seen her for only a few weeks last January, and I had only just learned of it myself, I am not sure of this theory.

It is a well known fact, however, that the best domestic staffs have mysterious methods of communication. If the cook and maids at No.12 knew it, and they thought that the Edenfield Court staff should know, Word Would Get Round.

Lady Cowperthwaite, Mrs Cuthbert and I will be calling on Miss Helen Shorrock and her Aunts shortly. Mrs Salmalin will accompany us, but tells me that it is her practise to sit in the carriage and write Lady Cowperthwaite's letters while the latter is paying calls. I find this maddening, as I have come to rely upon Mrs Salmalin for her peculiar senses much as I know she relies upon mine. How are we to carry on with her playing the lowly secretary?

It's very annoying to watch her try to eat her dinner when her eyes are following Mr Salmalin all around the room while he attends us at table. She is obviously all-too-conscious of the oddity of being waited on by her own husband. The compromise she has made for mealtimes is to take breakfast in the servants' hall, tea at her own cottage with Mr Salmalin, and dinner with all of us.

It seems very awkward, and she is as yet not comfortable with this confused station. I will have to convince her at least that a lady's companion is generally welcomed to join her in her calls. Of course, a lady's companion is usually not married to a footman. But we need her! What a stupid circumstance.

Saturday, 1 April 1871
(continued–late afternoon)

I enjoyed our visit with the Shorrock ladies. I have long looked forward to meeting Helen Shorrock, hoping for a kindred spirit. She was unexpectedly diffident, but I know that I myself am often aloof when meeting new people. I hope to come to know her better. Lady Cowperthwaite has been a frequent caller here, being also inclined to scientific inquiry and seeking intelligent conversation as an antidote to the usual vapid chatter of society ladies.

I thought that perhaps Miss Helen Shorrock's Aunts don't entirely approve of this intellectual company, but as it is so apparently in the interests of their brother, they are not likely to complain.

Dearden House is quite expansive, and filled with well organised and tastefully arranged displays of Mr Shorrock's collections. All of the items are carefully identified with cards in Miss Helen Shorrock's precise hand.

I must admit that I had entertained the absurd notion that Mr Nathan Shorrock might be as chimerical as Peter Sinclair, Naturalist. While the collections of items actually from Africa suggest that Nathan Shorrock does exist and has traveled extensively, I can see that a great deal of the work of organisation and publication of his findings relies on Helen's capabilities.

Miss Shorrock showed me some of the current projects underway in the conservatory. She has been tending an enormous sapphire carp which Mr Shorrock brought back from Africa, and also tending some eggs of the same creature. I asked how such a huge, obviously long-lived fish could survive in such a hot environment, and she described its method of aestivation–burying itself in mud before its water hole completely dries up and sleeping through the dry season. Fascinating!
She also showed me several tanks of various types of live mosses from all over the world. I envied the beautiful conservatory, but I can see she works hard to maintain all the specimens.

I was trying to come around to the topic of my husband's investigation when a perfect introduction fell, figuratively, into my lap. As we walked down the corridor leading to the Conservatory, I noted a striking portrait of a woman wearing a necklace with an enormous diamond. I inquired of Miss Shorrock and learned that the portrait was of her Great Grandmother, Alice Shorrock, and the diamond had been brought from India.

I told her that my husband's most recent investigation had brought up some connexion to the theft of a necklace like this. I asked if she knew anything about it, and she brought me back to the parlour to speak with her aunts.

They seemed a little hesitant to speak of it. I understand that one of the suspects in this still-unsolved case was Mr Horace Shorrock, Mr Nathan Shorrock's younger brother, who emigrated to Australia around the time of the burglary. No doubt they did not wish to air the strife between the brothers.

Miss Agnes Shorrock seemed particularly scatty on the subject, seeming to lose herself in some digression about an innocent man before being recalled sharply by her eldest sister.

They told what they knew of the diamond's history, and clarified the name somewhat–they called it the Harrae diamond. Miss Chigwidgeon recognised this as derived from the Hindi word for "green." The ladies confirmed that the diamond was slightly green in colour.

Strangely, the son of the younger brother has recently returned to this neighbourhood. Miss Helen Shorrock received a card from him, but asked him to wait to call on the house until the return of her father from his researches in Africa. I was informed that Mr Frederick Shorrock is staying at one of the cottages attached to the estate of Mrs Nitterdale. Perhaps we shall visit him soon.

We did obtain permission for Inspector MacGreggor and Mr Frazer to call on at Dearden House to see the portrait and to ask some questions.

When Lady Cowperthwaite, Mrs Cuthbert and I returned to the carriage, Mrs Salmalin was in an alert state, as she had witnessed something peculiar in our absence. While she was sitting in the carriage parked in the drive, she saw a man's head appear in a gap at the top of the high hedge around the front of the house. Mrs Salmalin indicated a distinct impression that the man was standing atop the box of an equipage to spy on the house. When he saw the carriage and realised that she had seen him, he disappeared from view and she heard him rummage around in the shrubbery, exclaiming loudly that the horse had thrown a shoe. Shortly she heard the equipage move on.

I went out to the road to look at the tracks. I was not surprised to see no sign that a horse had thrown a shoe--all the hoofprints in the area were fully shod. The road is busy enough that I couldn't be sure exactly what type of equipage it had been. Very curious.

We returned to the house a bit before tea.
I outlined our discoveries to Mr Frazer and to Inspector MacGreggor, along with the permission to call on the Shorrock ladies at Dearden House.

Now I must go in search of Edward or Wilhelmina, to try to arrange a little time for our studies and to return the corrected papers written while Edward was in Scotland.

Saturday, 1 April 1871
(continued--very late)

Mr O'Flaherty seems to have a knack for finding trouble and leading the rest of us right into it. This evening started out so normally (by the standards of the League, at least) but took quite a twist, thanks to Mr O'Flaherty's wandering.

While I was looking for Edward, the mystically inclined of the group took up the time before tea in conducting a seance to summon the late Mr Horace Shorrock. They later reported that they had managed to reach him, but he wasn't terribly helpful. He could tell the story of how the diamond came into the hands of Major Daniel Shorrock, given him in thanks for saving the life of the Nawab of Bengal. The spirit seemed to doubt the character of the Major, mentioning that the Major had not been well regarded by the men he had served with in India.

The spirit also asked after his son, and begged that the mystics relay a warning to beware of "the shark." He could not clarify his meaning. I was immediately put in mind of the criminal taken up for the theft of the necklace-- Sean "the Shark" Malloy.

The spirit confessed to coveting the diamond, but could not be induced to tell if he had stolen it or if he knew its location. Suggestive, but not entirely helpful.

After dinner, several of us went to Sir Cosmo's library to do a bit of research. Mr Frazer found a "History of South Lancashire" written by some local gentleman, which featured all sorts of local family stories and histories, including the story of the Harrae Diamond being brought over from India. This story was most likely repeated from what Major Shorrock had said, without any effort at verification, but it did at least coincide with the story told by the ghost of Horace Shorrock.

While we were occupied with this book, we received word that Mr O'Flaherty had gone missing (again!), and that the Mystics were attempting to locate him. Mr Frazer, Inspector MacGreggor and I bundled ourselves up and prepared to go after him.

The Mystics reported seeing him alive and free, but limping, along one of the roads, but they couldn't tell us just where. We gathered up Turgenov and went out into the deepening darkness to seek his trail.

It wasn't long before we found it, and then found him, coming back along his own path. He told us of some uncanny experiences in an icehouse situated out in a bog a short way off the road. He confessed to having broken in to the icehouse after hearing sounds that he thought might be a person in distress.

My companions, being of the Police, thought it important to investigate this case of breaking-and-entering. I had no such excuse, I was merely being inquisitive.

We were joined shortly by Mrs Salmalin, the Marquis, Lady Cowperthwaite, Sir Spencer and Mrs Cuthbert. We walked to the fields in question, and I realised that this was the Shorrock property. The woman Mr O'Flaherty had first seen going in and out of the icehouse could even be Miss Helen Shorrock.

As we approached the ice house, we were assailed by a series of hallucinations, some of them quite eerie. Being forewarned by Mr O'Flaherty, I was not too distressed. I could hear Mrs Salmalin chanting in an effort to dispell the visions.

We tied ourselves together in case one of us wandered into the bog, then made our way to the icehouse. We went down some stairs into the colder below-ground section. There we found a pump and an irrigations system much like that in the Shorrock conservatory, and a large case (over six feet long, 2 feet wide, and 2 feet deep) packed with a of type tundra moss. Mr Frazer and I were just endeavouring to identify the species of moss when another hallucination appeared.

It seemed that one wall of the small room we were in expanded and became a large slate board, and a gentleman appeared and began writing upon its surface, for all the world as if he were a professor teaching a class.

Mrs Cuthbert and I actually spoke to this phantasm--we were sharing the same hallucination--and it conversed with us. This apparition identified itself--himself--as Mr Nathan Shorrock, and he expressed surprise that we had appeared in his dream.

Mr Shorrock's apparition seemed a bit scatty, but he answered questions fairly directly. He said he was dreaming during the course of an experiment in which he was conducting here. He was attempting to induce a state of hibernation in a human, using a process derived from his study of the aestivation of the sapphire carp and other African fishes. He himself was the test subject, and his quiescent body was actually packed in the case full of moss.

His experiment is scheduled to conclude at the beginning of May, when he will be awakened by his daughter Helen, who has been tending him all these months in the course of the experiment. So, he is not in Africa at all.

What a pity that such a great field researcher has felt compelled to embark upon such a bizarre experiment, and use himself as a subject. The fact that he and his daughter have kept it such a secret suggests that they know that it is bizarre and will not be accepted by the society of naturalists and biologists. I suppose that they are hoping for some brilliant medical application–we all know that Medicine is still full of quackery and unproven procedures, and some people will try anything for a cure.

We took one more look around the icehouse to make sure that our presence had not disturbed the experiment in a way the might endanger Mr Shorrock, and took our leave.

As we trooped out to the road, we debated various courses of action regarding this discovery. We would have to speak to Helen Shorrock, as she is certain to be alarmed by the broken lock when next she comes to tend to her somnolent father.

Whether we shall confess to knowing the nature of the experiment is uncertain, though I think many of us agree that we should try to persuade the Shorrocks to discontinue the experiment.

The strange dreamstate of Mr Shorrock is causing hallucinations in all sorts of people as they pass nearby. I have now learned that several of the stableboys at Edenfield Court have been talking of seeing ghosts along this road. Mr O'Flaherty had a very near miss with the bog (nearly losing his boot, if not his life), and these hallucinations could easily cause a frightened person to run off the path and be lost.

Although Mr Shorrock seems to be hibernating in a stable manner, the awakening will likely entail great physical risk, as the body attempts to come up to its normal function. I hope that Miss Shorrock would consent to having Mrs Cuthbert nearby to help Mr Shorrock if needed.

Alas, I do not yet know Miss Shorrock personally well enough to know whether she would accept our advice or our assistance.

This will require some further thought.

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