Excerpts from the diary of

Miss Victoria Whitnell


2 February 1870
Father is dead.

The word came today, three days into our visit with the Smith-Hamptons. My own dear Tattvik is packing our things as I take a few moments to compose my thoughts.
I wish I had been as composed as she when I was fifteen. Mrs. Smith-Hampton is loaning my mother and myself her mourning blacks until we can have ours made up.
It is much easier to deal with these little details than with the larger loss. I wish I had spent ten years with father instead of married to William – though I don't know that I would trade India or all the wonderful people I met.

I hear the carriage rolling up the drive and Tattvik has done more than her share of packing....

13 February 1870
The coroner ruled death by stroke. Not unexpected in a man of father's age. Completely unexpected as far as I am concerned. I've only been home a few months!
Mother has completely retreated in to the morning ritual.

I find the blacks comforting as well. The colour suits my feelings if not my complexion. It reminds me that he is dead which is a comfort when I smell his scent or catch a glimpse of him down the hall. Tattvik has been running my portion of the household quite competently– she is a sea of calm in the ocean of family grief– and my household accounts have never been more complete. She has her mothers ability to stretch a farthing.

14 February 1870
I received a note from father's solicitor today asking for an appointment with me alone. He had already read the will out to the family. John and Emily were quite put out that father settled a separate pension on me. I was quite pleased. It is not enough for me to live on my own yet– but with careful management it can be made to serve. Mother has had quite a lot to deal with having John take over running the household. And thought I have tried to be on my best behaviour– I find John quite irritating. I know he is good hearted and a good manager. I think he will do well by mother– really.

17 February 1870
What an odd visit. Father's solicitor had two items that Father had entrusted to him that were not in the will. I don't think mother knows about these items and the solicitor instructed me to tell my family, when they ask, that he called upon me to come to his office to deal with the matter of my pension. I am glad that I keep this diary in my own coded language– it should be safe to confide in it– though I am sure agents of Her Majesty would have no difficulty with such a simple code as mine. I am hopeful that the Hindi script further hampers outside understanding.

Father left me a key with no lock and no instructions and a locket belonging to his aunt, my great-aunt Hethalynne, that she insisted he leave to me alone. It is all very confusing and mysterious.

I wish he were here to explain it all.

I just wish he were here.

18 February 1870
I thought I was ready to take on the task of cleaning father's laboratory and putting it back in order. He had no other assistants in this last year and I haven't had the heart to go down there alone since his death. The laboratory is the place I felt closest to him and where we shared many confidences not know to those ‘upstairs.'

If only I had been home maybe he wouldn't have died alone.

Maybe I'll put off the laboratory one more day.

19 February 1870
It must be faced. I have put it off long enough and some of the chemicals we were working with should not be left long alone.

<Later>

Had a tremendous row with John, who insists on calling me by my married name, about the state of the lab. Fully two pounds of purified autunite is missing as well as some of father's papers. It is very distressing. At the very least John could have insisted on a receipt from the police for anything they were taking away with them.
I found a rather disturbing letter among father's papers. I made note of the address and moved it where it won't easily be found. I've also taken custody of the keys to the laboratory. The spare I've hidden and the main key I'll keep with the odd key father gave me.

I'm afraid it's rather like locking the barn after the horses have been stolen but it made me feel better. Mother is quite upset at the way John and I have been going at it. I think I'll write to some of father's friends and see if I can spend some time away from the house. Maybe I can find out more about the odd letter and its author in London.

25 February 1870
Milford declined my offer to come and pay respects. His note said something about this not being a very good time. The tone of the note was– odd.
I spent the rest of the day out riding the horses. I'm afraid I've been neglecting them of late and most of the rest of the family would rather ride about in carriages. It falls to me and Tattvik to keep them in good form.

For a while on the ride I was able to briefly forget what we are all going through. It feels like the first time since we heard the news that I have had a thought unconnected with father's death. Once remembrance returned I was frightened, he has only been gone a few weeks– is his memory already slipping away?

27 February 1870
Tattvik brought in the post today and hooray! there was a letter from Sir Cosmo Cowperthwaite inviting me to come stay for an entire week! That should get me out from underfoot in a most satisfactory way for mama and John, never mind the formidable Emily!

We will go by train to London, Tattvik and I. I am most definitely not leaving her at the mercy of my family for a week and there is no other companion I would rather travel with. Besides I think she would enjoy meeting someone other than my large and opinionated family– who insisted on naming her ‘Mary' when we arrived. Never mind that it is one of my many sisters names. They couldn't be bothered to learn to pronounce her real name– even though the could given practice.

Tattvik Pratijnya doesn't seem to mind as much as I do. She says it's much easier in shops and such if she uses her new ‘Christian' name and she has asked that I introduce her to English speakers in this manner. I will not gainsay her in this matter. It is her name and I know from my own time in India how much simpler it is to deal with shops when you have a name that matches the language you are speaking. I will continue to refer to her by her true name in my own account of things– it is much prettier than ‘Mary' and will prevent confusion in my own thoughts between my sister and my friend and confidant.

We are to leave on the fourth of April. I will forestall any attempt by Sir Cosmo to arrange to pick us up from the train. I know London quite well and might take the occasion to drop in on Milford– for the letter he sent father was most disturbingly odd.

4 April 1870 - Out and About in London
I write this on the train on the way to London. Tattvik is setting up our lunch. We made it to the train in plenty of time. We managed to keep our household to two trunks a travelling bag and our hamper thanks to Tattvik's clever packing. I wish I could give up dithering about my wardrobe and choose once and for all to wear my ‘reform clothes' full time. It includes a fine body-shaper with absolutely no bones but alas my mother knows my silhouette to well for me to pull a switch at this point. I brought both wardrobes in the hope that Sir Cosmo will be less observant than my mother and I may be permitted to wear more comfortable clothes, at least when I am at home!
Tattvik wears a sensible serving dress. She gleefully reminded me this morning that there are advantages to the servant role. It is most unfair that both here and in India she wears the more comfortable (and beautiful) clothes.

Lunch is ready and Tattvik is giving me the look.

<Later>
So much has happened that I don't know where to begin.

I will tell you the same story I told Sir Cosmo– he insists I call him ‘Cosmo' but I think it may be a few days before I am comfortable saying a man's name unadorned– even such an odd name as his.

When we arrived in London I confirmed my purpose to visit Milford unannounced and see if he could account for the letter he sent my father just a few days before father's death. Tattvik and I arrived to find the household in complete disarray. Milford has been murdered! It was quite chilling to sit in a room with policemen all around knowing that a murder had been committed only the night before in that very apartment.

I am afraid my curiosity got the better of my good sense and I delayed my departure as much as I could. I wanted to know as much as possible about what had occurred. Fortunately, as often happens, I was ignored after it became clear that I had nothing useful to offer. Though thinking back on it, it must of given the police a bit of a shock to find a woman in mourning dress on the doorstep of a murdered man.

I gathered from their conversation that poor, vexing Milford had been exploded in some strange way and that an astonishingly agile person had possibly not only witnessed the crime but been ‘shot' at as well.

Once released by the police, I gave them Sir Cosmo's address as the one they could reach me at and continued, much disturbed, on my way.

Tattvik and I arrived safely at Sir Cosmo's and were about to relate our tale when a governess of uncertain provenance arrived unexpectedly with her own tale to tell. The butler, Graves, had just settled Miss Sinclair when Sir Cosmo's assistants arrived in a most unusual conveyance. It was a clockwork carriage! My fingers itched to sketch the wheels and cogs of the mechanism but Sir Cosmo assured me that he had technical drawings safely in hand.

I do love drafting and diagramming. It is one of the activities most denied me by father's death. As they were putting away the carriage, Miss Sinclair revealed that she had disturbingly similar news to my own. Sir Cosmo asked that we delay our full tales until his assistant, a Miss Namaste, could join us.

We waited a few moments more for Miss Namaste, a very attractive young woman of, perhaps eighteen, in features much like Tattvik but more attracting of attention. She seems both lovely and clumsy– both traits strange to find in an assistant, however, Sir Cosmo's household does not lack for strangeness. I feel quite at home here.
Once we had all spoken in turn it became quite clear that a most menacing series of coincidences had brought us togther. Milford's death was witnessed by Young Edward, a boy of astonishing vocabulary and odd appearance. He appears to be one of the City's many lost children. I am glad he has found a home with Sir Cosmo.
Miss Sinclair had also come in on a death. One of the corespondents of her cousin, Peter Sinclair, had died unexpectedly the night before she was to meet with him. Unknowing of this occurrence she appeared in good time for her appointment only to be turned away at the house. She seems a most resourceful woman of almost my own age. She noted some odd behaviour on the part of the personages representing Graham and Sons Mortuary and reported the same to Sir Cosmo. If you include the death of my father, fully three men have died of various means in the last six weeks all of whom were corespondents of one another and, if Sir Cosmo is to be believed, and I have no reason to doubt him, all of whom assisted in some event several years ago. It is possible that Sir Cosmo himself will be the next target.

He actually suggested that he make himself a more conspicuous target– a plan Miss Namaste, Miss Sinclair, and I all felt should be reserved for a more desperate hour.
After a brief discussion we formulated a plan. I am now taking a few moments to change into more appropriate clothing to visit a business establishment while Edward and Miss Namaste ready the carriage. I am leaving Tattvik here to settle some of our belongings. The rest– along with myself and Tattvik will move to Lady Ottoline's this evening for our safety. I must say I am thrilled at the possibility of meeting one of my reform dress heroines but I must set my book aside and put on the proper dress.

<Later>

Well the visit to the Mortuarists was most productive! I discovered little of use to our band but I fancy that I provided quite the distraction while Miss Namaste and Miss Sinclair got a look around. I did have the uncanny sense that I was being watched while in the shop. My finishing school training came to good use then and I tried to be even more distracting. It's nice to know one's training is good for something!

Miss Sinclair and I realised that it would not be wise to be too closely associated at this point so she set off to canvas the neighbourhood and see what might be seen. I gave her my married name to use in conversation, should it come up. William is finally good for something!

I really shouldn't be so hard on William. Our life together in India was not that bad– it just leaves a bad taste to be deserted in such a manner. And on top of that to spend nearly a year living on the charity of my friends while the divorce went through. I think William's superior paid my passage home just to get me out from underfoot. It's odd, but I was more angry at losing India than losing William.

However, in the present moment William has no place and I will return the focus to this afternoon's events. Miss Namaste found a kindred spirit in the form of Nigel Graham, the grandson of the founder. Young Graham intimated that there was a business relationship between a Madam Zephyrine and Graham and Sons. (Though the first thing Miss Namaste informed us of was quite irrelevant to the issues at hand– apparent Nigel has a friend who knows where the supposedly infamous ‘Kid Rocket' is staying and she has made arrangements to go meet him) .

Young Graham confirmed the odd thing about the St. John pick up– he didn't go along as planned but rather Jacques (who is not a member of the Graham family, unlike the other employees) and Mr. Paul Graham went to pick up St. John's body and do the laying out.

Miss Namaste also noticed that there was a store room in the Graham establishment that had a window into Madame Zephyrine's store– and she saw Miss Sinclair in Madame Zephyrine's shop.

Miss Sinclair had quite the experience in Madam Zephyrine's shop. The woman is a spiritualist and worse. I believe that she and Graham are engaged in a nefarious business to sell items stolen from the dead. I have read about such things and the one way mirror between the shops, combined with Madam Zephyrine's peculiar cuneiform necklace (that I believe she uses as a signalling device between the two businesses) just cries foul play. From Miss Sinclair's description the woman is just too fond of incense to be real.

My sole contribution to our pool of facts and impressions was a glance at the receipt book at Graham and Sons as they gave me the tour. There was a small red ‘z' noted in the book next to St. John's name. This made more sense once Miss Namaste, Miss Sinclair and I reported our separate adventures to Sir Cosmo.

This evening we will move Tattvik to Lady Ottoline's home. I am terribly excited at the prospect of meeting Lady Ottoline in person though I have decided to stay with Sir Cosmo this night the better to go with him and chaperone Miss Namaste's visit with Young Graham. I do want Tattvik to be safe while our researches continue. We will also return Miss Sinclair to the house of her employer and, as previously mentioned, Sir Cosmo and I will keep an eye on Miss Namaste and Young Graham this evening when they attempt to visit ‘Kid Rocket.' I do hope Young Graham will be able to shed more light on the strange events at the mortuary.

I am going down for lunch and hope to spend the afternoon researching cuneiform and mandrake root. Mandrake being the poison that Miss Sinclair suspects was used to kill St. John.

Sir Cosmo will pay a visit to the Widow St. John and see if he can locate the ‘amulet' that Miss Sinclair overheard the Mortuarists speaking of. We are concerned that the widow may still be in danger.

<Later>

It does so help to make these notes, as the day just gets stranger. Sir Cosmo's visit was efficacious. He found the locket and removed it and it's poisonous contents from the St. John home. Miss Sinclair confirmed that the locket was full of mandrake root. Our researches this afternoon were most successful. Miss Namaste found the two runes that had been used on the St. John letter and that they stood for ‘dream' and ‘death'.

I had a visit from Frazer, a clerk at the metropolitan police, to inform me that Lionel Milford was not, in fact, dead. The deceased was his younger brother, an Arthur Milford who was in town visiting his brother. The police do not know which of the brothers Milford were the true target of the murderer. I did not share the information we had gathered as it seemed too little to be of any use. Frazer has the most peculiar dog– almost a wolf in fact. Edward was quite taken by the dog and Miss Sinclair had a few anxious moments getting the young man to retreat. I don't know if I have mentioned that Edward has the most peculiar feet– nearly a second pair of hands, and since he refuses to wear shoes, I was certain Frazer would identify Edward as witness he was seeking– given the chance of seeing those distinctive feet! Miss Sinclair got Edward away from the dog and Frazer out of the house– though they lingered a bit at the door discussing some obscure points of the natural world.

We are now preparing to go out on the abovementioned errands. I will have to go an entire day without the help of Tattvik. Why I should need an assistant to get dressed I will never know. At least Tattvik sees some humour in it and is kind enough not to pull the corset strings too tightly.

5 April 1870
Graves is preparing breakfast. The smell fills the house and makes it feel real in a way that I appreciate at the moment.

Before I get too far ahead of myself, I will note that our errands went quite smoothly last night and if I am any judge of faces Miss Namaste and Young Graham had a wonderful time. Graham gave Miss Namaste a new comb for her hair (which she wore all the way home and is still stuck in her hair this morning). He also got the autograph of ‘Kid Rocket' on one of the penny dreadfuls that his exploits appear in regularly– it would not surprise me if Miss Namaste slept with the publication under her pillow.

That was the last of the good news.

We got home and went to bed and were all awakened in the middle of the night by a terrifying dream. In the part I remember I was in Great-Aunt Hethalynne's cottage. There was a fire in the fireplace and the smell of father's pipe in the air. Wolves were baying outside. When I went to the window I saw my new friends– Edward, Miss Namaste, and Sir Cosmo treed by a massive pack of wolves. I asked Great Aunt what to do and she gave the most infuriating answer that I should do what I thought best. Really, if dead relatives are going to appear in dreams and give advice, it should at least be helpful advice.

I snatched a brand from the fireplace and ran out to drive away the wolves and rescue my friends. I have enough dead people in my life.
Amazingly it seemed to work. Miss Namaste was able to climb down from her tree and she pointed out the witches casting the spell. I chased them. Edward chased the wolves. The witches dissolved and I woke up.

The frightening thing is that all four of us had the same dream.

We took the carriage to Miss Sinclair's neighbourhood and Edward delivered a note from Sir Cosmo. Miss Sinclair was fortunate in that she had had an attack of insomnia and was bypassed by the nightmare. Though I do remember chasing the witches through her bedroom– and now that I think of it– she was sitting up awake.
How strange.

Once assured Miss Sinclair was safe, we returned home. The others got a few more hours of sleep. I could not.

<Later>

It appears that I owe an apology to Miss Namaste. I had thought Wilson aka ‘Kid Rocket' could have no connection to our affairs. At breakfast, this morning, who should we find on the front page but Wilson! He was accused of the murder of A. Milford (though the press only mentioned Milford of course). He refuted the allegations in an interview with the paper.

Sir Cosmo arranged a visit to the B. F. & C. Stein and Company, where Wilson is currently employed. Miss Namaste, Edward and myself came along. I am glad I went for the Factory was most interesting and I was able to provide a necessary buffer between Miss Namaste and a lieutenant of my former husband's stripe– a Lieutenant Wooster, who bestowed the most inappropriate attentions on the poor girl– or tired to. My crinoline came to my aide and I was able to allow Miss Namaste to focus her attentions on ‘Kid Rocket.'

Over tea, we discovered, from Wilson, that he and the Lieutenant had been attacked by a Prussian who claimed that Wilson had killed Milford and stolen some documents. The Prussian even claimed that Wilson was a spy for the American government! Wilson is very American but neither Miss Namaste nor Sir Cosmo thought him a spy.

We returned to the house, in Wilson's company, and prepared to spend the afternoon in Sir Cosmo's lab discussing rocketry. I was halfway through changing into more comfortable and less restrictive clothing when Sir Cosmo pounded upon my door saying he had received a letter from Miss Sinclair indicating that she was in danger! Fortunately I had not yet undone my corset so it was only the work of a few minutes to return to my former clothed state.

The whole company piled into the larger of Sir Cosmo carriages and Sir Cosmo himself took charge of driving– the first time I had ever seen him do so– he drove like a madman at a very fast pace through the streets. I clutched tightly to the umbrella I had picked up on my way out the door. Something about Sir Cosmo's tone had made we want to have something in my hands– and there is little that is more real than an umbrella.

We arrived at the house of Miss Sinclair's employers only to hear a gun shot ring out from the interior of the house. Sir Cosmo stopped the carriage so quickly that Miss Namaste and Wilson fell out of the carriage– Wilson managed to catch Miss Namaste and they both landed safely.

Sir Cosmo and I struggled out of the carriage and made it up the stairs after Wilson and Edward. They were struggling to get a gun away from Jacques– Ruth was standing, holding a letter tray, with blood streaming down her face. I attempted to take the man's knees out from under him with the umbrella. I heard Sir Cosmo yell something at the brolly hit and a Rocket flew out of it and stuck in the ceiling!

Sir Cosmo yelled Run! and we all ran. Ruth and I for the back of her house where her charges had run after the attack. I lost Ruth somewhere in the chaos. I dragged a sleeping maid out of the back door of the house and ran for the stables. I was certain that the sleeping servants were the work of Madame Zephyrine and my feelings were vindicated when I saw her standing in the stable casting some sort of spell on the two daughters of the house! I don't know why I knew it was a spell or why I could see the monster forming over her head out of smoke and nothing but I knew she had to be stopped.

The next thing I knew I was back in Aunt Hethelyne's cottage. A storm was beating the walls and window of the cottage. Auntie was slightly more helpful this time in giving me guidance in what to do.

She also apologized for putting me in such a situation– apparently she knew something about all this but between my mother and her fear of anything that might be construed as improper and Aunt Hethalynne dying earlier than she had planned– I was left in an awkward situation. A wild spell was raging over London. Many people worked together to bring the spell back under control but apparently, while it was raging about, everyone affected saw their worst fear made manifest. Unfortunately Miss Namaste had Wilson's rocket gun when the spell hit and she started several fires firing at a demon! Fortunately Miss Sinclair was not at all affected and was able to take some constructive action while the rest of us were incapacitated.

Later when I explained my part in this to Miss Namaste in Hindi it made much more sense! In English I sound like a madwoman but I know what I saw and what I did and I am deeply annoyed by my Aunt!

Once the worst was over, our party (now including Lieutenant Wooster and his batman Petty Officer Caine) was loaded into a police wagon– not the same one that Madame Zephyrine and her son Jacques were loaded into thank goodness. I'm afraid I was less than polite to the Madam before the police came but both irritation and exhaustion combined to erode my normal manners.

After several hours waiting in a back room of the Royal Museum, we were told that the Madame and her son had been arrested and we were all offered employ in Her Majesty's Service. I must see about some training for Tattvik and myself if we are to be continually exposed to such dangerous people. I will be staying in London indefinitely– I do not know if I will continue to stay with Sir Cosmo– who I have become quite fond of in just two days– or if I will remove myself to Lady Ottoline's home and school.

Miss Sinclair will be joining the Cowperthwaite household as Edward's new tutor. It was most unfair of her current employer's to fire her outright but I do look forward to getting to know her better. I feel we may have many things in common in spite of our differing backgrounds. Unfortunately lieutenant Wooster will also be around more– as he is our new liaison– fortunately his batman, Petty Officer Caine, seems competent and between the two of us we may be able to keep his attention away from Miss Namaste.

All the fuss was over some documents stolen from the French. I do not know if it was truly connected to my father's death but an investigation has been promised– as well as protection for my mother.

On a sad note, I learned from Sir Cosmo that the batteries that father had been working on (using the purified autunite) were items he had invented as a young man and found to be highly dangerous. He lost both his parents when the batteries were used in one of the family's company's locomotives. Apparently autunite is very explosive– which makes me even more concerned that nearly two pounds of it is missing from the lab.

It has been a busy few days and I hope to get some well deserved rest.


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