Previously in Frankengeld. After giving Alicia, Countess Von Hinterleitner, her tonic Damion and Helena have invited the vampire to join them at the Mystery Club. Everyone reported back on what they have found, the location of the crime scene, the whereabouts of the cart, and the origin of the letter. There being time before examining the cart for clues, Madam Minna arranges for two servants to put on a sex show, apparently an ancient Hinterleitner tradition. Afterwards the club members go to the Livery Stables, but the ladies are not permitted entry!
Now read on...
14th June in the year 1784, in the evening.
The owner of the stable seemed happy for Lord Scunthorpe to enter his premises, but not the rest of us. This was going to be a wasted trip if our best observer of 'clues' could not see the cart.
I opened my mouth to complain but Alicia spoke first. Her voice was deep and gentle, the words slow but with a compulsion that made them hard to ignore. They flowed over him, drew him in, flattered him and commanded him. We were not the target and yet could still feel the power.
"Good man, you will invite us in," she said. "All of us, so we may view your fine establishment and your vehicles."
His eyes softened and I could see his mind struggling to come to terms with the opposite of what he wanted us to do. His mind lost the battle, just as mine had against Alicia's master.
"Please enter, all you good people, and view my fine establishment," he said.
We hurried past him through the door before time could undo the enchantment. Alicia hung back until the last and, as she passed him, she stroked his cheek with one finger. He turned and followed her inside, entranced. Her cloak slipped to one side revealing her gossamer thin nightdress, and much of her charms, but he made no comment. He just licked his lips, then sucked on his pipe in an agitated way.
It was not a fine establishment. Lit by just a couple of dirty oil lamps the place was a mess. Wagons, in various states of disrepair, were parked haphazardly as if simply abandoned once brought into the building. Tack and spares were lying about in piles. I nearly tripped over a spare wheel that had slid down from its position with the others. No wonder he didn't want people looking too closely. I began to wonder what conditions he kept his horses under, if this was how he treated his vehicles. Alicia whispered to him, and placed his hand over one breast, and he led us to a wagon set apart from the rest of the chaos. Then she brought the ostler back to us, leaving Freida and Philip, to examine the vehicle.
Helena and engaged in conversation with the ostler, who seemed to be happy to stand with us. Alicia took his hand from her breast and moved it down over her quim.
"Thank you for letting Lord Scunthorpe examine the cart," I said. "I hope this is not an inconvenience."
"Well to be frank Herr Doctor," he said, seeming to recognise me. "I'm glad the officers don't want it used at the moment."
"Why?" I was surprised, for this man looked as if he tried to get as much money for as little effort as possible. Why would he not want his cart back in use?
"Everyone and his dog seems to have heard the tale. Every wagon I hire at the moment people check with me. 'It's not the one where those people were torn to bits by wolves, is it?' they ask.''
"Ah yes," I replied, "I can understand that might be annoying."
Tales have their own life, I thought. Once out on people's lips they change and grow as each person tries to get the best reaction from their listener. And if that means adding details that are not true, for the old doctor and his daughter were not torn apart at the scene, or even putting in whole new dramatic sections, then that's what happens. If my life becomes a story, I thought, how will I be remembered? And what untruths will become mixed with my tale?
Freida called me over to the cart. It was a four wheeled light vehicle with a single seat for a driver, and two benches behind that ran parallel to the sides. A good design for a doctor's cart for it could carry up to four passengers and, if a patient was very sick, they could be laid on blankets between the rear benches and transported to a hospital or other place for treatment.
"Here are claw marks," she pointed out deep gouges in the woodwork. "It looks as if some animal leapt onto the cart. And there are other signs too."
I studied the scratches, but found my eyes pulled to the deep stain on the leather of the seat. Medical blood was one thing, I could cope with that every day, but here was the blood of someone who might have been murdered for my benefit.
"Yes," said Freida, misunderstanding my gaze. "That is blood."
She ducked to examine the underside of the cart, then popped back up and looked around for our new friend.
Alicia, Philip and Helena were stood together in the centre of the chaos, looking around at the scene of neglect. Alicia still had her quim covered by the Ostler, which seemed to be keeping him in a submissive state.
"Alicia," she asked, very politely. "Could you examine this seat and tell us if you can detect anything, please? And Philip and Helena, can you keep the Ostler distracted while we do this?"
Alicia released the Ostler who started to come around. Philip whispered something to Helena, their heads together in a very intimate and conspiratorial way. If I was the jealous type I would have suspected they were planning an assignation, but no - they were about to use a strategem.
Until now Philip had remained silent, happy for others to lead, but now he started to speak, loudly, in his native tongue. The Ostler was baffled, clearly knowing no English, and turned to me to translate. Helena stepped in instead, which further baffled him, having to accept direction from a woman. Helena made spurious translations of Philips words and by this communicated to the man that Lord Scunthorpe wished to view all his other vehicles, even the broken ones. It quickly became a game with Philip saying things like 'the wheel is about to fall off this one' and Helena translating this as 'Lord Scunthorpe admires the roundness of your wheels.'
Alicia moved closer to the cart. "I can smell the blood from here," she said. "It is not young blood, but not old either."
So, the daughter had been the driver, and presumably her father rode in the back.
"I can smell something else," she continued. "Something very faint, it has been many days."
"Wolf?" I asked.
Alicia concentrated, moved closer to the gouges, and then recoiled. "Werewolf!" she snarled. Then corrected herself, "No! Not werewolf, but wolfwere."
Freida and I looked at her with blank faces. Sophie had mentioned wolfwere to me two days ago but given no explanation.
"We should retire to discuss this," suggested Alicia. "There is much to explain, and this is not the place to do it."