Previously in Frankengeld. Anxious to avoid the shame of playing gambling card games with his staff Damion agreed they would use clothes as tokens. And so they played strip Taroc as the summer storm raged outside. This led to group copulation upon the kitchen table and Damion did some matchmaking by getting Una and Yani to appreciate each other's bodies. The next morning Damion recorded in his diary a strange dream in which The Lawyer and His Brides, vampires all, attempted to abduct Helena but were foiled by Anya's magic. It wasn't a dream, however. Helena befriended one of the Brides, Alicia, and Damion gave her shelter from the deadly rays of the sun in the cool of his laboratory.
Now read on...
14th June in the year 1784.
Having viewed the Countess on her impromptu bier in my laboratory I returned upstairs and had just managed to seat myself in my study when the doorbell announced visitors. I settled back behind my desk, and waited to see who would next cross my path.
"Mr Paul Krempe and Miss Elizabeth Lavenza," announced Una, who was bringing patients to my study this morning. I took a long look at her face to see if the girl I had tricked into having intercourse with Yani last night resented my duplicity. I could see no sign that she was annoyed with me, indeed she looked very contented this morning as if a deep need had been well satisfied.
The patients, or visitors, she showed in were quite astonishing. For they were Victor Frankenstein's fiancee, and his best friend. What on earth were they doing here? One of them, I could imagine, might attend to seek medical assistance. But both at the same time. Something was going on.
"Good morning," I said, standing and bowing to the pair. "I am Doctor Damion von Frankengeld. How may I help you?" I sat again, my mind full of questions.
Elizabeth removed her hat and her elbow length blue suede gloves, and sat down clutching them in her lap. She looked tense. Paul remained standing, holding the back of her chair. His posture was protective, almost military in its stance, but with a deep affection as if he would prefer to place his hands on her shoulders and shield her from harm. Of course form and convention forbade such contact with someone engaged to another.
"I wish to consult you with regard to Victor," said Elizabeth. "Though I am unsure about the ethics about such a consultation."
"We are also concerned," Paul spoke up. "Concerned that you may not be able to maintain an unbiased approach. Given that he is your cousin, and we are led to believe you were close to him at Engolstadt. Can you give us an honest opinion?"
I sat back and steepled my fingers. So, they wished me to make comment on my friend, even perhaps ask me to make a diagnosis in his absence. They were right to be concerned about the ethics of this, I would need to step carefully.
"I will listen," I replied. "And I will tell you if we wander over the bounds of propriety. And," I looked Paul straight in the eyes. "I will offer an honest response, and let you be the judge."
This seemed to satisfy them. Elizabeth started talking, wringing her hands in emotion, "I am to be Victor's wife. I had known Victor since we were children and when our two families suggested the match I was very happy. Victor had always treated me well, and seemed a kind man."
"How long have you been engaged?" I interrupted.
"Nine months now," she answered. "I expected it would be a short engagement. Just enough time to plan the wedding. But then he started working longer and longer in the tower."
"I see." I had heard that he had adopted a tower on their estate for privacy, and the tavern talk included many rumours of his endeavours to collect 'materials' for his experiments.
"And," Elizabeth continued. "When he did come home he kept putting off the wedding, saying he needed to concentrate on his work. That he was close to success."
"What happened next?" I asked, using one of the classic 'tell me more' phrases beloved of doctors.
"He stopped coming home at all," said Elizabeth, a look of deep sorrow on her face. "He just stayed in the tower with that vile wretch Fritz. I went to the tower and pleaded with him, but although he came to the door he would not let me in."
"Were you able to talk to him?" I asked.
"He spoke to me," she sobbed. "But only through the tiny window in the door, pulling back the shutter so he could see me. I could only see his eyes, but they looked tired, and there was a wild look in them that I had never seen before. He said he needed to finish what he had started, that we would be together after that."
She was overwhelmed with the emotion of her situation and, taking out her kerchief, dabbed her eyes. Paul took up the story, "When Elizabeth returned home, very distressed, she sent me a letter asking for my help. I had known them both when young. I counted Victor as my friend, perhaps he would speak to me."
"Go on," I said, another classic phrase. Please feel free to use them yourself if you find yourself in a similar situation.
"I talked with Victor's father," said Paul. "Baron Frankenstein. He was as worried as Elizabeth. We both went to the tower. At first we conversed with Fritz who arrogantly refused to tell his master we were there. But we made such a fuss that Victor heard through one of the high windows and came down. We persuaded him to let us in, so we could assess the situation, and reassure Elizabeth that all was well."
The way he looked at Elizabeth I could read his dilemma. He was Victor's friend, but - I now suspected - was also in love with Elizabeth. His family was lower in status so marriage would be less of an advantage to her family, but that didn't stop his feelings. And perhaps he harboured a secret hope that the engagement would fail and he would have an opportunuty to plight his troth. But, if he actively worked to pull them apart, he would have betrayed his friend and besmirched his honour as an officer and a gentleman. I did not envy him his situation.
"What did you find?" I asked. I was fascinated to know what they saw. Intrigued to discover how far the work had progressed. "I know of Victor's work, you can speak without betraying Victor's trust in me."
"He had many strange devices in his laboratory," said Paul. "And on a metal table was what looked like, to me, to be a half dissected body of a man. He was raving that he would show the world that his theories were correct. That 'we would see soon enough'."
"Did you feel in danger?" I asked.
"No, he showed no aggression to us," admitted Paul. "But his assistant, Fritz, watched us with ill-concealed hatred."
