Frankengeld Pt 13

Previously in Frankengeld. Madam Schwartz, the owner of the Ruby palace, a whore house, has revealed herself to be a Doctor from Edinburgh. Damion, following her recipe, has created the necessary elixir to 'stabilise' her. But, in trying to get Mr Hyde to drink, Damion took a couple of drops himself and has developed breasts. Chaotic laboratory work during the afternoon has caused further complications. On the plus side his medical practice has received some letters. There is a thank you letter from Lord Mutunus. And an invitation from Freida to the first meeting of the Mystery Club, to be held tonight. One from Elodie invites them to a Literary Event in a weeks time, and one from Mother invites Damion to get his sister-in-law, Gerda, pregnant!

Now read on...

12th June, in the year 1784, in the evening.

We had a light dinner, in anticipation of the hospitality that Freida had said her mother would provide - which was presumably going to be an evening meal - and, at an appropriate moment, we set off. It had taken Helena three changes of dresses before she was content with her choice, and I had not helped by insisting that I gave her advice.

I was, of course, well strapped up to disguise my breasts, a result of the accident with Madam Schwartz's elixir. The good thing was that since my erection had now subsided I felt a little less uncomfortable. I was hoping the evening would provide some distraction from my troubles.

We walked arm in arm through the streets. In the distance I could hear the raucous sounds of the Summer Fair but this evening we were not out to win prizes with feats of dexterity. Or be entertained by the astonishingly erotic Esmeralda. No, we were about to be part of a very new enterprise, an agency devoted to investigating crimes. The Mystery Club.

A footman stood by the door to welcome us in and the maid, Mary I believe she was called from my previous encounter with her, showed us to the withdrawing room. Here extra sofas had been added, with side tables for drinks, and Freida's mother, Madam Minna, stood ready with glasses of wine, which we gratefully accepted.

Madam Minna was a figure from my childhood when Elodie and I used to visit the house to play with Freida and Poppy. She had the same body shape as her daughter, strong and quite stocky, with large breasts and a thick waist, but she was a most personable woman. I remembered when I was younger that I had a very big crush on her, the sensual mother of my sister's friend. I thanked her for the wine and she smiled at me, a secretive little smile. Did she remember my crush of many years ago? Was she aware of my youthful passion at the time? I turned away from the drinks table, gently embarrassed.

"We should be modest with our drinking," I whispered to Helena. "Or it might affect our ability to think rationally at the club."

Helena nodded in agreement and, after thanking Madam Minna, looked around the room. Poppy was sitting deep in conversation with a gentleman I had not met before, and stroking her dog. He was tall, fair haired, and well built. The gentleman I mean, not the dog. The dog was a great fallump of a beast, a great dane, that listened and watched everything that was going on, but looked dreadfully lazy.

Freida was there, of course, standing by the fireplace, dressed in a severe and rather masculine coat. Etiquette demanded that, as the daughter of the hostess and founder of the Mystery Club, we paid our respects to her first. Helena gave her quite a long hug which seemed to involve a lot of sliding arms around waists, like some of the less respectable modern dances. They exchanged cheek kisses.

"It is so lovely to see you here," said Freida. "Come, I must introduce you to someone."

The someone was, of course, Poppy's conversation partner. His speech was not that of a native speaker. For the second time today I found myself analysing an accent. Madam Schwartz had the Scottish lilt, this man was... ah I had it... he was an Englishman.

"Damion, Helena," said Freida. "May I introduce Philip, Lord Scunthorpe." She pronounced the title Scooontorpe but I suspect the English would shorten the vowels. More like Skun-thorp.

Philip, upon noticing Helena, immediately stood and made a grand, sweeping, bow. "My lady," he greeted her with warmth in his voice and a rather rakish twinkle in his eye. I warmed to him immediately, his manner was charming and he had the confidence that goes with knowing that you are an elite, without the superior attitude that often goes with it.

"My Lord," replied Helena, making the deepest curtsey I had ever seen her perform. Doubtless a result of her educational sessions with Freida. She dropped so low that her skirts pooled on the floor and she modestly lowered her head, as if he were too grand to look upon. Then she rose again like Venus from the ocean, her head tilted up and this time her eyes fixed upon his. He seemed utterly entranced with my assistant and I suddenly felt the need to break the, rather intimate, eye contact between them. I reached over and shook his hand, in the English manner.

"Damion," I said, firmly. "Doctor Frankengeld. At your service." I was a little forward in this, I should have allowed the hostess to introduce us but neither he, or Freida, seemed worried by this lapse in protocol.

"Ding dong!" Philip said, in a sing-song manner. "Nice to meet you Damion, old boy."

I noticed he never took his eyes off Helena.

"Wherever," he continued. "Did you find this ravishing creature?"

Poppy bounced up from the chaise longe to give myself and Helena a welcoming hug. I noticed she then hung on Philip's arm, trying to bring his attention back to herself. The dog also looked up devotedly at both Philip and I.

"Helena is my assistant," I said. I may have emphasised this a little too much. After all this man was hardly likely to require a laboratory assistant.

"Philip is in exile," said Poppy.

The second person I had met today that had chosen Carlsbruck to be their home in exile. I wondered why Philip had been exiled but I was not so rude as to ask, despite Poppy's tantalising hint at a story.

Freida clapped her hands and invited us to sit. Madam Minna looked around at the state of everyone's wine glasses and backed out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

"Welcome, friends," said Freida. "My mother will return with more hospitality very soon so we must press on with our business."

We sat. Poppy and Philip on one sofa, with the dog at their feet. Helena sat next to Freida. And I was left with a sofa to myself. I adopted a relaxed pose, though I was a little worried that my family business was about to be shared as a mystery to be solved. I hoped my tension did not show.

"Welcome," Freida continued. "To the first meeting of the Mystery Club. I would like to invite Damion to explain the nature of our first mystery."

She gestured in my direction and all eyes were on me.

"Thank you, Freida," I said, though to be frank I didn't want to thank her for putting me on the spot. I thought for a few seconds and then summarised my situation. "I have taken possession of the Doctor's House on Hilgenstrasse. The building became vacant after the disappearance of the old doctor and his daughter. This happened during a visit to a patient at... er..." I realised that I didn't know where the patient was that the old doctor had been visiting. Was this person still waiting patiently for medical treatment?

"The Chief of Police," said Helena, taking up the story and covering my confusion. "Investigated with his men and found evidence that suggested wolves had done this thing. As far as he is concerned the mystery is solved."

"A pack of wolves," said Poppy, dramatically. "They descended upon the doctor and his daughter and slew them. Bloody fangs ripping through flesh like knives." Her eyes shone with the storytelling possibilities.

"But," said Freida, firmly before her friend could elaborate further on the blood and gore involved. "There are many strange elements to the mystery, enough to justify a more detailed examination."

She recounted some of the logical flaws in the idea that a pack of wolves had done the deed, enough that we were justified in investigating further.

"What would you suggest?" said Lord Scunthorpe. He had been listening intently. Not an easily distracted fop, I thought and was happy he was part of our team. I noted the court sword leaning up against a table, hopefully he would prove competent with the blade if we faced danger.

After we had poured ourselves more wine we settled back to listen to Freida. She took a sip and said, "'I have given more thought to the disappearance of the old doctor and his daughter."

"And what conclusions, dear Freida, have you come to?" whispered Helena.

"Not conclusions, for we still do not have enough evidence," Freida explained. "But I thought how we might get that evidence."

She had our full attention now.

"I considered the physical evidence," she said holding up the first finger of her hand. "Firstly the letter. If I understood the sequence of events correctly the officers were alerted to a problem by patients who had come to the Doctor's House for treatment, but were unable to get a response when they knocked on the door."

"That is what the Chief of Police said," I confirmed.

"And inside the soldiers discovered a letter that had sent the doctor and his daughter out to visit a patient the previous evening," Freida said.

"True," I admitted.

"So where is that letter?" she asked.

"Ah, I see," said Poppy. "You think, dearest Freida, that the letter might give us clues, if we can find it."

"Yes," said Freida with a light in her eyes that suggested this process was stimulating to her. "It must exist. It did not go with the doctor or it would not have been around to be read by the officers. And, later, the officers decided that the pair had been taken by wolves."

"He was quite worried I might faint at the idea," added Helena.

"So," continued Freida. "They had no reason to hold on to the letter. They no longer suspected a person to be involved, they had decided otherwise. Even if the officers had removed the letter to show to the Chief of Police they would have surely returned it to the house. It was part of medical records and not a piece of evidence. Could it be that the letter is still in the house?"

"I think that's very possible," I said. "I have been very busy so I have not yet gone through all of the old doctors paperwork. I have only pulled the notes for specific patients as they arrived. And there are several stacks of miscellaneous correspondence in my study from the old doctor's time."

"Then it may be found," concluded Freida. "And it might tell us much if we could examine it."

"Damion and I will look for the letter tomorrow," Helena offered.

Freida paused and composed her thoughts, ticking off a second finger. "The second piece of physical evidence," she said. "Is the cart they used. I am right in thinking they used a cart, or two-wheeler?"

"Yes," said Helena. "The Chief of Police said it had blood on the seat."

"And where is that cart now?" Freida asked me.

"There was no mention of a cart in the inventory of the old doctor's possessions." I told the room.

"So," said Lord Philip, beginning to get into the investigative mode of thought. "It was, most likely, a rented vehicle. And the officers would return it to the stables that hired it."

"Exactly," agreed Freida. "I wonder what clues we may find on the cart, if it has not been scrubbed clean of evidence."

"Then," said Lord Philip. "The quicker we act the better. Poppy and I will visit all the livery stables in Carlsbruck tomorrow and report back to this group." He smiled at Poppy, who hugged him close. This was clearly an adventure in which she was prepared to join him.

Freida counted off the third finger, saying, "The final pieces of physical evidence may be found, not with an object, but a location. The crime scene, assuming it is a crime scene. My readings tell me that modern detective theories suggest that events leave traces, even if those traces may be very slight. The crime scene may hold clues."

"So what is your plan," Helena asked.

"I have contacts in the police force," said Freida. "I will talk to them and get the location of the tragic events, then we may visit it.

"And I will provide my coach for the purpose, so we may all travel together," added Lord Philip.

"We will meet here, at the same time, in two days," said Freida, looking very pleased with herself. "And share what we have discovered."

Having shared out the tasks I, for one, felt we were getting somewhere. And the idea of meeting again in two days meant that we could expect to make some progress. With a need to report back people would surely do their tasks. Hopefully we would discover clues that vindicated my family and would release me from feeling guilty.

As if on cue, or perhaps she was listening at the door for the meeting to conclude, Madam Minna returned. I expected her to announce an evening meal. Helena and I had deliberately not overfilled ourselves earlier for this very occasion. But she simply returned with wine, and sweetmeats. Two trays of wine, one carried by Mary, and one by herself, and an enormous tray of sweetmeats carried by her cook. The sweetmeats looked delicious but they weren't going to be a substitute for a proper meal. I took a small plate and piled it high with them, much to the delight of the cook.

Having served out, and put a bottle of wine near each couple, Madam Minna sat down by me, and the maid retreated - presumably grateful that she was not required to provide 'gratification' this evening. Freida's mother snuggled quite close and placed her hand on my thigh. I was about to say something when Philip stood up.

Philip, smiled at his attentive audience, took a sip of his wine and spoke, "I have been asked by Poppy to explain why I am in exile in this... interesting... town."

We were caught instantly, the tone of his voice, the way he stood, all spoke of an exciting tale to come.

"It was because I was in attendance when the Lady Sarah and the Dutchess of Medway decided that the only way they could settle their differences was through a duel."

I was aware that the English upper classes were at least as fanatical about duels as the Bohemians. It was, of course, illegal but that did not stop them and the high status of the participants tended to protect them from prosecution. However I had never heard of women dueling.

"The dispute was over some flower arrangements," Philip continued. "I forget the exact details for I have no skill in that art and do not understand the technical terms involved. But the slight was, I believe, considerable and could only be resolved by the shedding of blood."

Helena had covered her mouth at the prospect of two women attacking each other, though she must have seen disputes between women that became physical.

"The duel was to be held in Lady Sarah's ballroom," Philip set the scene with wide gestures of his hands to signify a room much larger than the one we were currently occupying. "And the weapons were to be swords, which the Dutchess of Medway provided. But when the ladies met they were both concerned that the sharp blades might damage their fine clothes. Luckily a doctor had been summoned to provide aid to the loser of the duel and he recommended that the ladies fight stripped to the waist."

Fighting stripped to the waist was a common strategy amongst male duellists. It helped to avoid infection when cloth is pushed into a wound. It has long been recognised that a well-cleaned blade is less likely to cause a fatal infection than the dirt of the street, or the clothes that people wear, though nobody knew why.

"The Lady Sarah," said Philip. "Was content with this as an idea, and declared she would happily expose her breasts to the woman who had slighted her so. The Dutchess of Medway went one further, declaring that she would happily flash her breasts and cunt at a woman who did not know how to properly place the long stems in an arrangement."

As Philip recounted this his voice changed to reflect the tones of the two women and it was almost as if I could hear their English aristocratic accents. He smiled, took another sip of wine, taunting us by making us wait for the next part of the story, and continued, "Lady Sarah declared that she was well aware that the Dutchess of Medway often flashed her cunt, at actors and men she had purchased off the streets. And she would be damned if she wasn't going to expose her cunt too, declaring that her cunt was the better cunt of the pair. And at least her's was not covered by her stomach when she was standing."

He paused, winked at Helena, and then continued. "The Lady Sarah made her servants all face the wall for the fight, but permitted myself - a guest in her house - and the seconds, to watch. And the doctor of course. They stripped naked, took up their swords, and set at each other with gusto. The duel was to run until one or other lady spilt blood, then honour would be satisfied."

Philip dashed too and fro in the room, imitating the actions of the ladies.

"They fought," he said. "Everything on display, with swaying breasts, slick with sweat. The Dutchess had the larger pair of tits, and a stomach that drooped a little over her quim, just as her opponent had said. Lady Sarah was maybe ten years younger and her breasts were firmer, they bounced as she thrust and parried, and soon droplets of sweat were being flung from her erect nipples. And her cunt was indeed the finer, crowned by red hairs which are always a sign of passion. The blades flashed and clashed, but with no harm done. Sometimes their attempts to parry each other's blows lead to their mature bodies colliding, soft flesh pressing against each other. When this happened they grunted and grabbed at each other's quims, like women who loved women are said to do."

He took another drink, clearly still affected by this event.

"I began to worry that some dreadful harm was about to befall my lady, for as you may have guessed I was a lover and confidant of Lady Sarah," he admitted. "But, after about ten minutes the duel came to a conclusion when each lady thrust at the same moment, forgoing any attempt to parry, and each inflicted a slight wound on the other. This caused their seconds, and the doctor, to declare that honour was satisfied and that the ladies should hug and be friends again, which they did."

So far this story, though very interesting, did not explain why Philip was here, in Freida's withdrawing room, and not in Lady Sarah's bedchamber.

"After the duel," Philip explained. "I made a foolish error. I wrote an account of the fight in a poem of epic style. Which I read out at various society events. Although I did not name the ladies, giving them pseudonyms from Greek myths, I put in many details which allowed the intelligent listener to ascertain the identity of the two ladies involved. The outcome of which is that the Duke of Medway has vowed to kill me because of my poem's vivid description of his wife's breasts, stomach, and cunt."

Helena looked up at Philip and smiled, "How unfortunate."

"Yes," Poppy broke into this conversation. "It isn't as if the Duke, from what Philip tells me, is very interested in his wife's breasts, stomach or cunt. He ignores his wife and has two mistresses that he meets with, sometimes both at the same time!"

"Ah, the English," I sighed. The upper class in England were notorious for having open marriages.

"Very true," agreed Philip. "The Duke may not be very interested in his wife, but what he

is

very interested in is, apparently, pistols and swords. He's one of the best shots in England. And he can handle a blade like a seasoned trooper. He has slain seventeen men in duels, but avoids conviction by the courts every time. And thus I came here. The Duke made the continent a very attractive place for me to be while the fuss settled down."