2 June 1870, Thursday

~Later~

I noticed as I read over my previous entry that I left several things out of my record.

We were awakened this morning by Wilhelmina. Or rather by the etching project that she had set up upstairs. She had the sense not to stay in the room while the chemicals were fuming, but not the sense to alert Graves or any other member of the household.

I actually slept through most of the initial excitement. I was awakened from a dream in which my father and I were working in his lab in the basement of our house, by a vigorous pounding on the door. At first I thought someone was knocking on the door to the basement and then I awoke fully and found that I was in my room at Sir Cosmo’s house.

The smell that was filling the household was from an acid etching solution. Miss Sinclair and Mrs Cuthbert evacuated the house while I searched out Wilhelmina to find out what she had been working on. From the smell it was not likely to explode, but, in our household, you never know. Regardless it was not a good thing to be breathing.

I found Wilhelmina asleep in the parlour downstairs. As she was holding a Katar in one hand, I resorted to ringing the dinner gong, after quieter methods had failed, to wake her. Once awake, she went upstairs to open the window in her room. In deference to her privacy, I waited outside for a while. However, upon hearing the snore that is very disturbing to hear coming from a young girl, rather than the young boy we thought Wilhelmina was when we met her, and irritated by lack of sleep, I barged on in and tried drag her from the still fuming room. This woke her again and she consented to come downstairs.

She went outside to work in the carriage house. I gave up on sleep at that point and wrote my record of last night’s events. I notice now, that I left out entirely the fact that, along with Sentenza’s body, the Spirit who was our attacker in the garden (and who Miss Sinclair brained with a rock) was mystically bound within the same room. After questioning it, Mr Travers, Mr Ramsey, Mrs Cuthbert, and I returned it to the spirit world. It was quiet annoyed by that.

It appears that the Spirit, who came with Sentenza from the western united states, enlisted the aid of a sorcerer after Sentenza was captured. Instead of rescuing Sentenza, the sorcerer betrayed both the body of Sentenza and the Spirit into our hands. They were bait for a trap for both us and Master Tandu’s followers. Unfortunately we were forced to kill most of the Thuggees who were with him to extricate Salmalin from their clutches and Master Tandu fled into the sewers.

I am feeling very perplexed about what to do. I have apologized to Salmalin for my behaviour last night but that still does not relieve my confusion as to what to do the next time we encounter such a situation. I was correct in my assessment that it was a trap, and while we ultimately prevailed over the Thuggees who were in the basement, it was only at the cost of a major injury to Salmalin and minor wounds to all of our front line fighters. However, I do not feel that any of my colleagues actually understands that my hesitation to have us enter the basement of the Black Lion was based on anything other that my own inconsistent nature.

I knew it was a trap because there was no mystical barrier to our tracing the location of Sentenza. I have found so far, that, if I can track someone it is usually either a false lead, or a trap. I am not skilled enough nor powerful enough to break though our enemies defences when they choose to erect them.

I find myself quite vexed by the whole situation. I, with Mr Ramsey and Mrs Cuthbert’s assistance, am powerful enough to get the League into trouble but not powerful, or skilled, enough to get them back out again, and they won’t listen to me when I try to tell them that.

Salmalin could have been killed in the few minutes he was down there alone. Regardless, I am resolved to try to keep my own council on things in the future when we are in danger and let the others make the decisions about when and where to make our moves, as I am obviously unsuited for certain of the League’s activities. Of course, if the one person most qualified to lead us, at least in our current adventures, does not stop sneaking off without making some sort of plan with the rest of us, we are all as likely as not to keep running about in circles.

I am rapidly becoming irritated as I dwell upon the problem. I have my plan and I shall endeavour to stick to it.

Enough of that for now.

On a more positive note, I was very pleased with my work in Mr Salmalin and Miss Bertilde’s class this morning. Mr Salmalin started our lesson by attacking the class with a sword. We were all unarmed at the start of class. In the few moments between his initial attack on Miss Bertilde I managed to catch up one of the practice-swords and parry his blow.

Each of us was at least able to dodge his attack and Mrs Cuthbert had enough of her wits about her to try the leg tackle Mr Salmalin taught us earlier in the week. It was rather amazing how she was able to sweep his feet out from underneath him. I was too busy going for my own weapon to notice much else, but I did hear Ruth berating Salmalin for cutting her outfit. No one was injured.

Mr Salmalin then asked us, in turn, what we were thinking when he came at us. I am afraid my answer was not very elegant as I was still rather stunned at the speed of his attack. I think I said something like: ‘Big. Pointy. Sword. Coming. At. Me.’ Which was what I was thinking, it is just not very articulate.

Miss Chigwidgeon put it much more clearly by saying that we weren’t thinking, we were reacting. As much as I can tell anything about Salmalin’s feelings, he seemed pleased with us. He mostly rested for the remainder of the class while Miss Bertilde drilled us in making anything that was to hand into a weapon. Mr Salmalin stole around pulling items from our hands if we had them for too long. He made some point about there being no cheating in a fight but I was rather busy dodging Miss Bertilde to pay much mind.

After class Mr Salmalin continued Miss Chigwidgeon’s education in the Faith of Kali. As of yet, he has voiced no objection to my participation and I find that many of the things that he is teaching apply directly to my life and the discipline that I am trying to give to my disordered life.

Today’s lesson was on the five pillars. They roughly translate as:

madya - wine, a sense of being infused with the divine as wine infuses the body

mamsa - meat, an attempt to subdue the urges of the flesh

matsya - fish, cooking the fish represents conquering deception, envy, misunderstanding, and illusion.

mudra - gesture, in the sense of gestures of kindness, etc... This part seemed to relate most directly to the outward expression of the faith in the community and seems to be very similar to expectations of charity for our Christian faith, expectations that are not always met...

maithuna - Salmalin first translated this as love. The only time I have heard the word in India, it was used in the context of mating animals, and specifically, the physical act required for breeding. Salmalin went round with us several times about the translation. I know it is a delicate subject for a man to speak with women about, however, our League, at least inside our own house, must operate on clear communication.

There is enough that is confusing going on around us that adding a layer of confusion intentionally merely to spare our feelings is counter-productive. He said it was not something he could really explain, as he had not experienced it himself. The only thing I can think of, is that it like is trying to explain, in a word, the difficult concept of what it is to experience the Act rather than to observe it (in other animals) or think about it in an abstract way.

He finally settled on translating the concept as: enjoying the beauties of life.

Which reminds me, I should check in with Miss Chigwidgeon before her wedding night– in some ways she is much more worldly and experienced than I am but, given my own experience of married life, there are some things brides should be told just to make sure there are as few surprises as possible. Maybe that is a little of what Salmalin was getting at. You can be told many things, but until you experience them they are just shadows in your mind. Given my experience with William, I would not choose to translate maithuna as love, perhaps Miss Chigwidgeon will have a different opinion after her own marriage. I certainly hope so!

Our lesson reminded me to check the wards around our house, which required me to walk up the five flights of stairs to the roof. That was when I discovered how very hard we had worked in our lessons with Mr Salmalin and Miss Bertilde. The wards were undisturbed but in need of reinforcement.
As I was making my way to my room to change and clean up, Graves brought me a letter from Mr Willoughby. It included a reimbursement check for the items of clothing that have been lost to fire, smoke, and blood over the last two months. It came to a nice sum and Graves offered to bank it for me and arrange credit with the dressmaker.

Since we had some free time between lunch and tea, and as Sir Cosmo was off on errands with Edward, George, and Owen, I invited Miss Chigwidgeon to accompany me dress shopping. Miss Bertilde had come in by this time and she suggested that she attach herself to our party. That seemed very sensible as her primary charge was out with Sir Cosmo, and since her secondary occupation is to provide a more discreet bodyguard for the Ladies of the League.

Our party assembled and we were off to the dressmaker’s, where I ordered a new ball gown. I took advantage of Miss Bertilde’s expertise to ask the dressmaker to make several modifications to the dress to enable me to carry some of my adventuring equipment concealed about my person. Maybe this time I will be prepared for our next adventure in ballroom dancing.

We then stopped to pick up some thread for Miss Bertilde’s projects. I did talk her out of going to the rag-pickers. As, my own discomfort notwithstanding, there is only so much that thread can take before being permanently weakened and worthless. Miss Chigwidgeon and Miss Bertilde were both good company and nothing untoward happened to us while we were out.

We returned home well in time to clean up and prepare for Nigel Graham’s arrival. Miss Chigwidgeon was not looking forward to her part of the interview and wisely decided to wait out of sight until Mr Ramsey had concluded his examination and had given his recommendations to the young man.

Mr Ramsey arrived a bit early, and we were able to fit in a short Gaelic lesson before Graham arrived for tea. Graves set a very nice table for us, though I noticed that he had used the aluminum rather than the porcelain tea set. Given the number of shocks Graham was likely to encounter it seemed a very good idea.

Graham arrived promptly and Graves showed him in to us. I gave Graham a brief overview of our reaction to the uncanny accuracy of his dreams. I confirmed that Miss Chigwidgeon had shared selected portions of his letters with myself and I had summarized the contents for Mr Ramsey. I also explained that we hoped to figure out where his gifts lay so that he could receive appropriate training and not be surprised by his gift so much later in life, as happened to me. I also told him that I knew of at least one man with a similar gift, who, for the most part, manages to live a normal life. I do hope both of the Mr Pryce’s are recovering from their adventures on Kor. I shall have to ask Mr Ramsey for the news.

Graham responded that, since Miss Chigwidgeon had alerted him to the possibility there was real substance to his dreams, he had begun keeping records of them. He gave me a written summary of two dreams he had in the past week.

One was a very accurate rendition of the events of the Night of May 31st. The second dream was much more disturbing, as it involved the death of Sir Cosmo and Miss Chigwidgeon (at least) and the dispersion of much of League. I put his notes in my pocket for the rest of the interview, feeling that Sir Cosmo and Miss Chigwidgeon should be the first to see it and the ones best suited to make a decision about how much of the information to share with the rest of the League.

I will copy Graham’s notes into this journal after I complete this entry.

Mr Ramsey then took over the interview process and I watched as he tested Graham in several ways using both a regular card deck of cards and a tarot deck. Mr Ramsey then requested Mrs Cuthbert’s presence and, as she was just returning from interviewing potential staff for her household, I was able to find her quite quickly. She and Mr Ramsey continued the testing and determined that Graham’s gifts were similar to Mrs Cuthbert’s, in that he seemed to have some ability to see into the future, yet he did not have her ability to see or speak to spirits. That may be a blessing, given his current line of work in the family Mortuary business.

Mr Ramsey arranged for Graham to visit the Chapterhouse on Friday evenings for training in the use and control of his gift. I excused myself and took a few moments to speak to Miss Chigwidgeon, alerting her that Mr Ramsey was nearly finished.

She was with Sir Cosmo in his study. I took the opportunity to show them both the summary of the dreams that Mr Graham had brought with him. Miss Chigwidgeon was not perturbed by the letter as much as she was angered. I confirmed with Sir Cosmo that we were expected to try to build a case against our enemies (rather than just blowing them up). I was both reassured and vexed by this answer. I want to be on the side of the angels, it just seems that the devils have a rather unfair advantage in being able to act without restraint in their pursuit of us. Add to that the fact that we have at least three different enemies coming from different directions and our task becomes very daunting.

Sir Cosmo mentioned that he, Edward, and George had been out gathering information about he Young Cobb’s organization (or lack thereof now that he is dead). He felt that it was time for a Council of War to allow the members of the League to share information and make arrangements to deal with our enemies. He suggested that we meet after dinner. I thought that a good idea until it occurred to me that Mrs Goodwin has scheduled a class in Alchemy for me and I could not remember if it was set for Thursday or Friday evening.

Graves then found me to tell me that Inspector MacGregor was here to speak to me about some recent developments in his case. I was rather distracted by this news but I did manage to ask Graves to oversee the interview between Miss Chigwidgeon and Mr Graham and to ensure that Graham go home safely afterwards. I also got a note off to Mrs Goodwin asking her to please confirm my appointment as I had forgotten which night I was to attend class.

I then went in to the dining room where Graves had put Inspector MacGregor. We had a few moments to ourselves before Miss Sinclair and Mr Frazier joined us. Apparently Mr Frazier was here to call upon Miss Sinclair. He had brought her a present, a book in three volumes written by Frau Olga Geibel, a naturalist. The volumes are in German and Mr Frazier has consented to tutor her in that language. I would very much enjoy learning another language, however, I do believe that Mr Frazier and Miss Sinclair could do with some time apart from our mob. Maybe if Ruth invites me on her own I will consider joining their lessons.

Once Frazier and MacGregor were in the same room the talk quickly turned to business. Inspector MacGregor had come to consult with me about a second murder that occurred between ten last evening and two this morning (the time we were at the reception and then were pursuing the lost body of Sentenza). A member of the embassy staff for France had been found on the corner of Pall Mall and Haymarket street (only a few blocks from the reception). The man’s name was la Rothiere and, according to Mr Frazier, he was a French spy-master in addition to his official duties at the embassy.

The Inspector also discussed the progress that he and his colleagues had made in the investigation of Lord Clarendon’s death. A man named Charlie Billingham is being held for questioning as one of the other inspectors found a page from Lord Clarendon’s office in the back of the ale wagon that Mr Billingham drives. Mr Billingham belongs to one of the crime families that worked under the Young Cobb while he was still alive. The Billinghams are well know to the police. However, this particular Billingham has apparently been trying to live cleanly since his last stint in jail.

Adding a ‘Romeo and Juliet’ twist to all of this is the fact that Mr. Billingham is courting a Miss Charlotte Malloy, daughter of the other crime family that served under the Young Cobb, the Malloys. From everything Inspector MacGregor can tell both Charlotte and Charlie have decent jobs and have been putting money away regularly. There is rather more money in Charlie’s bank account than can be accounted for in their wages but Inspector MacGregor spoke to the clerk at the bank and he not only remembers Charlotte, he remembers when she came in with her mother to make a substantial deposit over six months ago. The romantic in me hopes that this is a sign that the young couple have an ally in Charlotte’s mother.

However, this romantic speculation does not get us any closer to discovering who might have murdered la Rothiere. The inspectors arrived at Charlie by looking for the type of horses that witnesses said they saw just after Lord Clarendon’s murder. Mr Billingham’s story is that he made his delivery run as usual last evening and only deviated in his routine by giving one Howard O’malley a ride home. Howard was carrying a load of books. Ruth suggested that Edward knew someone by the name of Howard and that we should check and see if they are the same person.

In addition Miss Sinclair and I agreed to go the site of the murder and see what could be discovered by my mystic means and her sensitive tracking abilities. Mrs Cuthbert and the Marquis arrived at some point in the discussion. Mrs Cuthbert agreed to join our expedition tomorrow morning. We agreed we would search the murder site, the ale wagon, and that we would view the evidence in custody at the police station. Inspector MacGregor and Mr Frazier seemed to thing that our itinerary proposed no difficulties.

The Marquis mentioned that he had been questioned as a possible suspect in this second murder as one of his handkerchief’s had been found at the scene of the crime. He was no friend of la Rothiere and had spent the morning making champagne toasts celebrating the death of this man. Fortunately he was with us for nearly the entire four-hour block of time the murder would have occurred in.

As our conversation came round to more mundane things once more, Graves stopped in to let me know that Mr Cuthbert had left to give Mr Graham a ride home. I stepped out for a moment to speak with Miss Chigwidgeon. Mr Graham had seemed to take things rather well, however as he left, he accidentally left behind the first draft of his dream diary. He reflected quite painfully on the true intensity of his feelings for Miss Chigwidgeon in those notes and Miss Chigwidgeon was quite properly upset on his behalf.

On a happier note, Miss Chigwidgeon received a note from Miss Pinker suggesting that they meet for tea tomorrow to discuss wedding plans. I gave Miss Chigwidgeon a brief overview of some of what she might expect from the Earl in terms of engagement parties and such. In my research I did discover that Miss Chigwidgeon does not need to be presented to the Queen before the marriage can take place, so we have one less hoop to jump through. Miss Chigwidgeon invited me to sit in on the tea with Miss Pinker. What a lovely treat to look forward too!

Inspector MacGregor and the Marquis were invited to stay for supper, and Mrs Goodwin had replied to my note. I did indeed have class tonight. I will have to check in with Ruth tomorrow morning to see what information was reviewed during my absence.

The class was mildly interesting, much of it was spent getting to know my instructor, and allowing him to determine what I knew already and where he should begin the lessons. As a result of this evening I am more determined to study intensively with Mr Salmalin. I do not know if I could ever worship Kali in the way that Miss Chigwidgeon hopes to, however I find both the physical and mental discipline of his teaching matches very well with the mystical skills I am gaining.

I feel that the Watchers do not fully understand their powers as gifts. I thought that I would enjoy a more ‘scientific’ approach to the magik that I practice, but now that I have been exposed to that way of thinking, it leaves me cold. Mr Salmalin’s approach seems much more sensible. Perhaps tomorrow I shall ask him, more formally, to teach me some of what he knows.

3 June 1870, Friday

By the time I got home from class many of our household had retired. I took a few minutes to speak with Tattvik about her classes. She seems to be enjoying them. As I suspected she is finding many of her classes interesting. It is certainly giving her a different view of London that she would have received if she and I were visiting in the more normal sense of the word. I do worry about putting her in danger, purely by her association with me, but at the same time she seems to be growing more and more confident as the weeks pass. I am unsure as to what the impact of all this education will be on her if she decides to return to India. Her parents are rather unconventional, which is why we got along so well while I was living there. I just do not know if their tolerance will stretch this far.

The conversation reminded me that I still need to make arrangements to pay for her tuition at Lady Ottoline’s school. Lady Ottoline has not sent me a bill for past two months. Of course when we started out, Tattvik was primarily attending the school for her protection during the League’s first adventure together. Since then she has developed a life of her own at the school. She is working with girls her own age and is learning a rather larger number of skills than I was taught by my mother and my finishing school.

Tattvik also took particular care to mention how much she was enjoying work with Graves and the rest of the household staff. I think that Graves is a man after her own heart. Consider how gracefully he manages to run the household regardless of the turmoil and chaos that we bring home with us. I wonder if another group of adventures will someday benefit from Tattvik’s skills or if she will go off in an entirely unexpected direction, as I seem to have.

After conversing with Tattvik and updating my own records I found that I was very tired. Tattvik and I bade each other good night.

I was awakened from a sound sleep by Miss Chigwidgeon and Mrs Cuthbert. Mr Caine had returned with a very inebriated Mr Cuthbert in tow but with still no sign of Nigel. Mr Cuthbert mumbled something about the last time he saw Nigel the boy was having a very good time.

Given the content of some of Nigel’s dreams lately, Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Chigwidgeon, and I were alarmed. For all we knew some vampire might be drinking his blood at that very moment. Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Chigwidgeon, and I cast a locate spell. I could tell that I was having difficulty concentrating when it took three tries just to complete the spell. Of course, the past few times we have cast this spell, Mr Ramsey was here to lead it. Neither Mrs Cuthbert nor I have much direct experience it.

Once the spell was cast successfully we determined that he was three miles away and quite definitely nowhere near his home. Miss Sinclair was also up and about and the four of us decided that it would be better to check on Nigel than to risk his loss. We roused the League and were soon out the door. One we got to the general area the spell had pointed me too we found ourselves in a rather seedy part of town. It was looking more and more like Nigel was drowning his sorrows in beer and working women, a traditional male pass-time, one that I am not terribly impressed by. Some part of me had hoped that Nigel was more sensible than that. I was about to triangulate his location, when Sir Cosmo suggested that Mrs Cuthbert use her mirror to see if Nigel were, indeed, in danger.

After concentrating for a few minutes, she blushed pink. We had a brief discussion on how to best extricate Nigel and ensure he got home safely (allowing us to return to our own beds) while causing the least embarrassment to the young man. It occurred to us that Mr Caine was an expert at just this type of situation and he had the added advantage of not being a perceived suitor to Miss Chigwidgeon. We left Caine with money for a cab. He set off on his assignment and we all returned to home and bed.

On the way home, Mrs Cuthbert confided that she had used her divinatory powers to summon a dream and gain more information about what the future might hold. The vision that came to her was even more disturbing than Nigel’s, if that is possible.
Her vision showed a dark room filled with robed, chanting figures. A woman meeting the description of Lady Miranda Derwent was leading the chant, wearing substantially fewer clothes than would be proper in any circumstance. There was another woman tied down to an altar-like structure at the front of the room. Hanging upside down from the ceiling were Sir Cosmo, Miss Chigwidgeon, Miss Sinclair, Miss Wilhelmina, Mr. Cuthbert, and Dr. Wilson.

The vision ended in a most grim manner. The captives were moved into position hanging by their ankles over the woman tied to the altar. The chanting increased in pitch and tempo and Lady Miranda... this is very difficult to write... Lady Miranda cut all their wrists and let them bleed out over the woman. Then, according to Mrs Cuthbert, the red-haired woman swelled in a pregnancy that took only minutes to complete. A baby was delivered in a most gruesome manner, leaving the woman dead on the altar. The baby was shown to all of the cloaked figures. Lady Miranda claimed that the child was the Cobb, returned to life.

I was most disturbed by this and it was only through use of Mr Salmalin’s meditation techniques that I got any sleep at all last night.

This morning’s practise went well, Miss Bertilde sat in on the language class again but I do not envy her the task of joining in when she has had little or no previous exposure to the language. Perhaps there is a language she would prefer to learn. Hindi is very useful in our household but may not appeal to her– though she does seem more at ease with Mr Salmalin now that she has fought beside him, maybe if I start by introducing her to words for weapons and fighting she will be more interested.

Inspector MacGregor and Mr Frazier should be here soon to take Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Chigwidgeon, Miss Sinclair, Miss Bertilde and myself on a tour of the various evidence sites for the two murders we are investigating. Dr Wilson and the Marquis were off early this morning, Graves mentioned that they were engaged in some sort of experiment to test if a photograph could be made of a moving rocket from inside a hot-air balloon. Fortunately this test will be taking place outside of London later today.

Oh, and the reason that we have not seen much of Lieutenant Wooster about is due to the fact that he is jail on assault charges stemming from the incident a few days ago when he shot the arm of a man who was about to stab Mr Chigwidgeon in the back. Inspector MacGregor mentioned this yesterday, along with the odd fact that Wooster has asked Caine not to spring him until Saturday, if possible. I have written out a statement of fact for Inspector MacGregor’s file on the matter, though his own report along with Caine’s actions should be quite sufficient to carry the day. Why Wooster would want to spend an extra few days in prison is beyond me, though I did notice that he had received a letter from his sister at breakfast yesterday. Given his performance at the opera and reception on Wednesday night, I can see why he might want to avoid her for the near future.

Miss Chigwidgeon is calling for me. Inspector MacGregor and Mr Frazier are here.

~Later~

We came home to find that all was in turmoil. Edward’s father crept onto the grounds while most of the household was away. He tried to get Wilhelmina and Sir Cosmo to agree to an alliance that would put him at the top of the criminal organization that his father had run. When they did not agree to be used for his purpose he attacked Sir Cosmo. Sir Cosmo, Mr Salmalin, Edward and George were able to fend him off but were unable to capture him. Edward fired his rocket gun into the carriage that Claude Moriarty was using to escape. The wagon was loaded with spirits of some type which exploded upon the rockets impact. One horse was injured so badly that it had been put down by the time we arrived home. The driver of the wagon was also killed in the explosion. Claude Moriarty escaped on the back of the second horse. The only good thing to come of this was the fact that he left his hat behind after Sir Cosmo shot it from his head and Miss Sinclair was able to get quiet a strong sense of what the man smelled like. This could be of great help to us later as many of the League have not encountered Claude Moriarty in person.

It also occurs to me that Mrs Cuthbert and I may be able to use such a personal object to see what Moriarty is up to or otherwise learn more about him through magik. I will have to consult with her and Mr Ramsey at the first opportunity.

Miss Pinker is due very soon for her tea and planning session with Miss Chigwidgeon. By the time we arrived home it was too late to reschedule. We will just have to hope that the mob of constables will have the scene under control before she arrives.

Before I forget I should record our experiences on our tour of the evidence the inspectors and Mr Frazier have collected.

We first visited the site of the second murder. Miss Sinclair looked for physical evidence that might have been missed while Mrs Cuthbert, Miss Chigwidgeon, and I cast the history spell. I saw la Rothiere negotiating with a prostitute. They apparently did not come to an arrangement, to my relief, and she left him. Claude Moriarty appeared out of the shadows, struck la Rothiere viciously upon the head. The first blow apparently did not kill him and Mr Moriarty struck again. He then wiped the gore from his cane and very artfully dropped the handkerchief where it would be found by the police.

Miss Sinclair did not find anything to add to what the inspectors already had. I was disappointed because anything she might find would be a thousand times more useful than any spell I could cast as the English Courts do rely on hard evidence for convictions.

In addition to the corner of Pall Mall and Haymarket, where the murder had occurred, we visited the brewery where Charlie Billingham worked and where the delivery wagon he had driven was stored. Another history spell verified his story. He had done his rounds that day with the only unusual event being that he gave young Howard a ride to the reception where we were in order to give Howard the opportunity to deliver some books to Edward. Edward spoke to Howard in my presence and Howard confirms this story as well. After the deliveries were complete, Claude Moriarty broke into the brewery and planted the page from Lord Clarendon’s documents in Charlie’s van.

We then adjourned to Mr Frazier’s office at the Metropolitan police department. Mr Frazier brought us the page and the handkerchief to examine. The paper turned out to be a copy of one of the documents and not on the original paper used in the foreign office. This gives us some hard evidence that it was a plant and an attempt to frame Mr Billingham and was the most useful thing our expedition accomplished. I do not now remember if it was Miss Sinclair or Miss Chigwidgeon who spotted the difference.

Graves informs me that Miss Pinker’s carriage has been spotted coming up the street. I must go down and see to Miss Chigwidgeon.

~Later~

Tea was lovely. Miss Pinker did everything possible to put Miss Chigwidgeon at ease. She asked Miss Chigwidgeon to be frank about her wishes for the events leading up to the wedding and did not seem at all surprised that Miss Chigwidgeon would prefer both a smaller engagement party and a smaller wedding. Miss Pinker offered to work with the Earl to bring his expectations more in line with what would make Miss Chigwidgeon more comfortable.

This was a great relief to Miss Chigwidgeon.

Miss Pinker also brought with her the traditional gift of a teacup and saucer from the Earl’s pattern for Miss Chigwidgeon. I could tell that Miss Chigwidgeon was touched by the gift, and that she understood its significance as a gesture of welcome into her new family. Miss Pinker really is wonderfully charming.

The subject of the Dress was also discussed. Miss Pinker suggested that Miss Chigwidgeon use Lady Cowperthwait’s dress or at the very least, the antique lace that had been in the family for several generations. It is quite an honour to be entrusted with such an heirloom and Miss Chigwidgeon seemed to both understand and appreciate the gesture that was being made. I am afraid the Earl and Sir Cosmo will have to content themselves to let Miss Pinker and Miss Chigwidgeon handle the matter of the dress as they seem to have it well in hand. Though I see the had of the Earl in some of Miss Pinker’s work as well. I doubt the dress would have been offered if he did not approve of this match.

As Miss Pinker was taking her leave of us, we discovered that Mr Chigwidgeon had stopped by to give some information to Sir Cosmo. I heard the details from Miss Chigwidgeon after seeing Miss Pinker into Graves capable hands.

It seems that Sentenza paid off a great number of Lord Robert Saint Simon’s gambling debts and actively courted the man for information about our household. Lord Robert had no hesitation in giving this man as many details about our household as possible. He also spoke about us in very unflattering terms. Given that he had expressed an interest in courting Miss Chigwidgeon just a few days ago (and after the time that Sentenza was already actively seeking information about us) I am very glad that she rebuffed him. What an awful man!

The bell is ringing for dinner. I must go down.

~Later~

I am writing this as we ride a paddle-wheel boat down the middle of the Thames after midnight.

I am keeping something of an eye on Miss Chigwidgeon and Mr Salmalin. She has decided to clear the air about any possible romantic feelings he might have about her. I am keeping far enough back that I cannot hear what is being said but I can testify to their propriety. Being a chaperone is sometimes very complicated– I am expected to be even more vigilant now that Miss Chigwidgeon and Sir Cosmo are formally engaged.

I have snagged a crate under the light spill from the Captain’s light to catch up this record. It is a very nice night. The stars and moon are shining in the clear sky and it is relatively warm even though it is full dark.

Just after dinner, one of Dr Wilson’s employees from the rocket works came to our door. He was very upset. Something had gone wrong during the experiment. He came too to find that both rockets in his charge had been fired when he only remembered firing one. The balloon had got loose of its tether and he found the body off the balloon operator two fields over from the one the experiment was taking place in.

There was no sign of Dr Wilson or the Marquis.

Mrs Cuthbert’s crystal revealed that they are adrift in the balloon. Edward and Sir Cosmo were able to calculate, from the information provided, that they are headed toward the Thames. We hope to intercept them before they either crash the balloon or drift past the point we anticipate they will intersect with the river.

If they are still in the air when we reach them I may be able to bring them down safely with a variation of the same spell I have been using to put out fires.

~Later~

We are stopped for the night. It is too late to return to London. We rescued Dr Wilson and the Marquis from the balloon. I created a waterspout on the deck of the ship while trying to cast the spell and have borrowed a robe from our hosts to use until my own clothes dry. How vexing. However I did not crash their balloon and on the third try I was able to bring them down much more slowly and safely than they had been descending.

On the carriage ride to find lodgings for the night we discovered that Dr Wilson’s rocket man and the balloon operator had both been possessed by dark magik and had tried to kill Dr Wilson and the Marquis. The Marquis still has his camera and his hopeful that he got some information about their attackers on film.

It seems that this must have been an impromptu attack, as no one knew Dr Wilson was going to try this stunt until yesterday evening. Our enemies are growing bolder and striking more often.

We must take steps to prevent Monsieur Proctor Xanthus, Baron Blackhall, Lady Miranda Derwent. Mr. Claude Moriarty, or Master Tandu from making such an attack again.

Statement of Miss Victoria Whitnell regarding the events of 28 May 1870

I was travelling by carriage in the Stepney District when I, and my party in two carriages: Lieutenant Wooster, Mr Caine, Dr Wilson, Miss Chigwidgeon, and our drivers came upon Mr Rip Chigwidgeon. He was in the midst of removing three unruly men from a tavern at the request of its owner.

Our arrival distracted Mr Chigwidgeon, as Miss Chigwidgeon is his daughter and he was both pleased and concerned to see her. While his back was to the three men, one of them pulled out a wicked looking knife and attempted to stab Mr Chigwidgeon in the back.

I called out a warning and Lieutenant shot the man with the knife in his knife arm the man was briefly unconscious. While Mr Chigwidgeon secured the other two rowdies I administered such first aid as was possible under the circumstances. The wound was not life threatening, and he would not have received it at all had he not tried to stab Mr Chigwidgeon in the back in the presence of Mr Chigwidgeon’s daughter and her friends.

I am quite annoyed that this man would now press charges claiming that the Lieutenant assaulted him when he was quite clearly the originator of the altercation.

Nigel’s Dreams

1 June 1870

Miss Chigwidgeon tells em that her friend, Miss Whitnell, believes that my dreams may be prophetic and wishes to talk to me about them. I have decided, therefore, that I should record any unusual dream I have, so that I can explain them in detail when we meet on Thursday.

Last night I had another of these odd dreams, though somewhat different than the most recent ones. This one began inside the study of a great house, with bookcases that went up to the ceiling. Two men and three women were in the study. One of the men was blond, clean shaven, quite handsome, but with a cold and calculating gleam in he eyes. The second man appeared to be a red indian, dressed just like some f those pictures in the magazine stories of Kid Rocket’s adventures on the American Frontier. Two fo the women were almost identical, apparently hindu, perhaps thridy hears old. The third woman had reddish hair and wore a lot of jewelry.

They were discussing someone who was imprisoned. They seemed to be planning on breaking this person out of his place of imprisonment, because they were speaking of “eliminating the guard: and “take him out quietly though the back way.” They also spoke of Sir Cosmo, Mrs Salmalin, Mr Cuthbert, Kid Rocket, and Miss Whitnell, though in less than polite terms. It seems they feared interference form “Cosmo’s Menagerie.”

The finished their plotting, and the women left the house. The English woman was taken away in a fancy carriage. The two hindu women went away in a delivery wagon. The Englishwoman’s carriage crossed the city, passing within a few blocks of Sir Cosmo’s house.

Suddenly the dream changed and I could see Miss Chigwidgeon, Miss Whitnell, and Mrs Cuthbert sitting in one of the rooms of Sir Cosmo’s house. They were having a friendly chat about some sort of concert or dance. I’m not certain which. The were interrupted at least once by an argument between Edward and Miss Sinclair. But other than that moment, the rest of the dream was a pleasant one, as Miss Chigwidgeon and the others laughed and planned.

2 June 1870

My dream began with a red-haired girl of about ten years old. I had never seen this girl before, and yet she seemed familiar. She was living in a basement, or perhaps I should say a series of basements and cellars interconnected by many tunnels. She had several servants. One of these was Mr. Salmalin. There were several others, most notably another young hindu man, and an auburn-haired boy who looked a few years older than the girl, and seemed to be very fond of her.

The girl spent much of her time in a office or workshop that was crowded with many half-finished mechanical projects. People kept coming to her in the office and reporting as to the going on of various persons in the city. After each report, she would give them instructions and they would leave to implement her wishes.

Among the people mentioned in the reports were myself, Miss Sinclair, and something called Zanthis (I’m not sure how to spell this). As the agents made their reports to her, sometimes I could see the people being talked about. I, for example, was sitting in a pub, quite drunk, and scribbling in a notebook. The agent said that I was employed by one of the less reputable papers, and that my drinking continued to get worse, with no sing that I would recover from the tragedy. Of what tragedy he spoke, I did not know until later.

Miss Sinclair, on the other hand, was employed as an instructor as some sort of school for girls.

This Zanthis person was most unusual. He was a man of indeterminate age. His skin was completely white, as if his face were carved from ivory. His hair was also colorless. His eyes were strangely red or pink. He was dressed in fine evening clothes and attended by a group of muscular arab servants. According to the agent’s report he was involved in smuggling, and making a profit at it. This last news seemed to upset the girl.

After receiving many more of these reports, the girl prepared to go somewhere. It was at this time that realized that she was dressed completely in black: her long skirt and may petticoats, the ribbons and lace, even the buttons were black as darkest night. She pulled on a pari of long black gloves, and a matching hat with a double-veil. The she and her three chief servant left the tunnels.

They arrived at a church yard. It was foggy and either early morning or late evening. The made their way across the yard. They paused to hide a moss-covered monument. There was an elderly man standing at a grave side, crying. He was dressed in exceptionally find clothes. Standing on either side of him was Mr Graves– there seemed to be two Mr Graves in my dream! One of them referred to the gentleman as “My lord” and reminded him that they were expected at the place. The old man nodded. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his eyes, and allowed them to lead him away.

Then the girl and her three companions moved to the same grave. There were two impressive marble monuments. The stone showed not sing of wear or weathering. The girl spoke to the graves. “You will be avenged. The noose is drawing tight and soon he will pay for what he did. I promise.” Mr Salmalin was crying, and did nothing to hide the tears. The girl place some flowers on the grave. That is when I saw the names on the head stones: Sir Cosmo and Namaste.

I don’t know why they had been buried side-by-side in my dream, except that I was quiet certain when I awoke, that they had been murdered by that strange while-skinned man I had seen earlier in the dream.

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