Frankengeld Pt 29

Previously in Frankengeld. Gerda has completed her tale of her wedding night with Damion's Father, and has been persuaded to attend the Summer Fair. After some swinging Damion notices that there are extra guards on duty and Alicia induces a Sergeant to reveal that Victor's monster is close by. Then, tragedy! A farmer enters the market square carrying the dead body of his daughter. The monster has struck!

Now read on ...

The farmer, clutching at Helena, began to moan. Then he shouted just two words, filled with despair.

"Murder! Monster!"

A dark toned murmur went through the crowd, people looking to their neighbours in horror. The Chief moved into action, striding to stand over me.

"Doctor, what have you found?"

"Drowned I believe," I said keeping my voice low. There was no point in further feeding the crowd with tragic details. "I cannot tell if it was foul play here, in the street."

"Then let us move them both to the barracks."

Alicia folded her cloak over the little girl and then lifted her gently to rest against her shoulder. She looked like any mother carrying her sleepy child, and a gasp of emotion went through the crowd. They knew instinctively this was a child that would never wake again.

"Who is this woman, Herr Doctor?" queried the Chief.

Before I could answer the Sergeant, proudly saluting, said, "Sah! This is Countess Von Hinterleitner, sah!"

The Chief looked closely at Alicia. Could he tell something was not quite right here? He thought for only a few seconds, then said, "My Lady, I welcome your help. Follow me."

He strode through the crowd and people parted to let him pass, Alicia following close behind. Helena and a soldier helped the farmer to stand and follow his child, I brought up the rear. I glanced back to see Elodie and the two poets watching. They all looked shocked and saddened, and Von Arnstein was scribbling on scraps of paper, perhaps recording his feelings and the sights and sounds of this tragedy.

In the garrison we were taken to a suite of rooms and a table was cleared for the child. "Herr Doctor, make your examination," said the Chief. "I must talk with this man, though he is not making much sense at the moment."

Alicia lay the child down, with infinite care, and turned to the Chief.

"Perhaps I can help," she said. "I have some skill in ... diplomacy."

Again that look on the Chief's face.

"I believe you," he said. "Come then, we will leave the Doctor to examine the child and we will learn what we may from the father."

Alicia and the Chief left and Helena and I turned to the child. We removed her clothes, placing them to one side to dry, and cleaned the body - looking for signs of violence. I confirmed the cause of death, there was much water in her lungs, along with strands of water weeds. Debris and water in the lungs usually meant that the person had been alive when they went into the water, it was sucked in as the person tried to breath. There was some lividity, darkening of the skin, where her blood had drained to the lower parts of her body while her father had carried her, but no scratches, bite marks or broken bones, nothing to suggest an attack by a monster.

I was also able to establish she was still a virgin, no foul rape had happened here, she moves to heaven unblemished by that crime. Helena was struggling to cope, and at one point had to turn aside to dry her tears. Her sadness nearly set me off too. A soldier arrived and, averting his eyes from the little body on the table, left some white linen sheets. We used these to shroud her.

Helena took a crucifix from its place on the wall and put it on the sad little bundle.

Alicia and the Chief returned and we joined them in his office. Brandy was poured, and then the Chief sighed, looking deep into his drink as if an answer to this mystery lived there, before taking charge.

"It is sad when an innocent dies. What did you find Herr Doctor?"

"She was drowned. Probably only an hour before her father brought her here. She may have fallen into the water, or been put there, but if so she was taken by surprise and there was no violent struggle."

The Chief nodded, as if this was what he expected.

"With the Lady Hinterleitner's assistance we were able to establish that the man is Hans, a farmer. His daughter, Maria, was in the habit of playing by a pool that outflows into the river. He was doing his final duties before bringing his daughter to the fair, and had permitted her to play on her own. She plays a game where she floats flower heads like boats, and knows - knew - not to enter the water."

He took a swing of brandy and continued.

"He heard a scream and a splash and ran to the pool where he discovered his daughter floating face down. He pulled her out and looked for help, for she made no movement, then he saw someone."

"Someone?" said Helena quizzically. "So not a monster."

"Wait Helena ... you will understand," cautioned Alicia.

The Chief resumed the sad tale.

"The figure he saw moving away had a limping, shambling, gait, as if walking were hard, and was well over two metres tall. He was broad chested and had wide shoulders. He was wearing black clothes and large, heavy-looking, boots. The sleeves of his jacket only came halfway down his forearms. His hands were pale in colour and the fingers were spread wide. Our witness did not see the person's face, but swears the head was flat at the top with metal pieces inserted around the edge. The metal caught the light and flashed red in the rays of the setting sun. The figure's hair was black and lay lank and close to the head. It moved away around an outcrop of rock and was seen no more."

This was sounding more and more like Victor's work. He had always suggested that the construction of a new man, as he described it, would be easier if all the parts were over large. No fiddly cutting or sewing. And the description of the skull covered with a flat plate matched one of his drawings for the easy insertion of a replacement brain.

"The description is very similar to the suspect seen fleeing the Frankenstein tower earlier," said the Chief. "Though that sighting was at much greater distance."

I was anxious to get back to Elodie and away from this office where, at any moment, I could be asked about Victor. "Do you need our help any more this evening, sir?" I asked, hoping the answer would be no.

"I have sent runners to inform the search parties of the latest sighting of the creature, though there is little more they can do tonight in the darkness. In the morning we will concentrate on searching the hills on the far side of the river."

"And the poor man?" asked Helena.

"We will give him a bed here for the night. I do not want him wandering the town whipping up a mob to hunt this creature, though the rumours are rife and that may yet happen despite our best efforts. I want this ... person ... alive, to question with regards to these deaths, but that is my problem, not yours."

"Then we will be on our way," said Alicia, standing. I returned her blue cloak which she put on with a stylish swirl.

"My thanks to you all," said the Chief. "And particularly to you, my Lady." He bowed very deeply to Alicia saying, "I have never come across a more skilled interrogator. I would give you a job here if I thought the town council would accept a female employee."

As we turned to leave there was a knock on the door.

"Sir, there is a man here," said an officer stepping into the room. "He claims to be a witness to the girl's death."

"We will be out in a moment," replied the Chief. Then to us he said, "I would value your observations here, Herr Doctor. To see if what he says matches what you have seen in the girl's body."

We followed the Chief out and stood back while he interviewed the man.

"I am a charcoal burner," he started. "I had finished my work for the day and was coming to Carlsbruck for the Summer Fair. The woods I work are on the far side of the river. When I witnessed the tragedy I made haste to report it but I had to go down to the three arch bridge to cross, which delayed me."

So far this was all reasonable. He took a flask of water from his belt, drank, and continued.

"The little girl was sitting by the side of a river pool and she had a great pile of flowers. Then the monster came up to her. He made moans and waved his hands but the girl was not frightened. She invited him to sit and play. The monster knelt, it was a clumsy move as if he did not have subtle control of his limbs. Then they took it in turns to throw flowers into the water. The monster laughed and was as child-like as the girl, which seemed strange to me."

The man paused, he seemed to be trying to recall every detail, however distressing.

"My path took me closer to them, the river narrows a little at that point, and there came a moment when all the flowers were gone. The monster looked at the ground, where the flowers had laid, then the girl, and then he swept her up and threw her in the water. Unlike the flowers she did not float. I shouted and, at that moment, her father came running. The monster, who seemed confused by the turn of events with the girl, fled. He moved into the rocky field and I could not see him further. Then I made haste to come to you."

The Chief sent the man away to have his statement written down by the officer and we returned to his study.

"Your thoughts," he said, inviting us to speak first.

"His tale matches the girls condition," I confirmed. "Drowned without signs of other harm."

"The creature," said Alicia. "Seems both powerful but also lacking in worldly knowledge. He played like a child, not an adult. I would judge he thought the girl would stay on top of the water, like the flowers."

"Her dress may have been her undoing," suggested Helena. We looked at her in puzzlement. "It was decorated with flowers, and she wore one in her hair. Perhaps the monster thought she was a kind of flower."

"Whatever the creature's thoughts," said the Chief. "I must still hunt him. For the death of young Frankenstein's servant, and this tragedy which it may not have intended. He is simply too dangerous to leave at large."

We left him to his duties and returned to the fair, looking around for Elodie and her literary companions. We found them back at our favourite drinking bench, huddled around a fresh flagon of wine. They were talking quietly, indeed the whole of the fair seemed to be holding its breath after witnessing the tragedy.

"Good evening Herr Doctor." this was Heinrich. "Your sister has made us very welcome and I look forward to the event tomorrow evening. I will be giving a rendition of my Perseus."

My immediate thought, which I will allow was unworthy, was that I was grateful that Lord Mutunus would not hear it. Nobody wants their historical work criticised by someone who was around at the time the events occurred. He might just think of this story as myth, full of symbolism rather than truth, but I was beginning to suspect that some of the ancient tales were true.

Heinrich was reputed to be a member of the Illuminati, an order dedicated to fighting superstition and obscurantism, the latter being where knowledge is presented in a way designed to prevent others from understanding it. I was all for knowledge being open to all and made as clear as possible, and I was beginning to think that superstition was something we should study to understand. Half understood facts, presented with an overlay of fear, were of little use to anybody. And if we had not overcome that fear we would never have had the pleasure of Alicia's company.

Lorenz was speaking to Alicia, from his gestures he was talking about the way she swept the child into her arms to remove her from the crowd's gaze. Perhaps trying to fix in his mind the images of this evening's events for a poem. She, in turn, seemed to be enjoying socialising with her new friends. It will be hard for her to return to an un-life of isolation in a ruined castle, I thought, when this is all over. I idly wondered if the Lawyer, her sire, could be persuaded to move to Carlsbruck, perhaps open up a legal practice in one of the town houses. Now there was a radical thought.

As we sat and listened to the poets chatting happily to Elodie and Alicia I nudged Helena. Una and Yani were returning from witnessing the Dancing Bare. I watched Una and Yani interest. They walked hand in hand, like young lovers everywhere, and their heads were bowed towards each other as they discussed, quietly, what I assumed was a shared experience. The first of many, perhaps, if they were suited to each other.

"Una! Yani!" shouted Helena, waving at the couple. "Come, sit, and have a drink with us."

At first it looked like they would reject our offer, I saw Yani remonstrating with Una, he looked embarrassed and pointed at home. She calmed him with a touch and, taking his hand, led him to our table.

"Say nothing unless they do," I said to Helena.

"I am the very soul of discretion," she replied, using a phrase I was confident she had been taught by Freida.

I attracted the attention of one of the servers and she brought a beer for Yani and a wine for Una. They sat and nursed their drinks.

"Did you like the Dancing Bear?" asked Helena, with a very cheeky grin on her face. I looked across at her, and gave a stern look. How was this being the soul of discretion?

"Yani was surprised at how active it was," replied Una. "Music and movement in perfect harmony."

At least Una was bring discreet, I thought.

"Yani?" asked Helena. "Was the experience active for you as well, or did you simply observe?"

Yani looked at her, then down into his drink. I looked at Helena and tried to convey my annoyance without spoiling the evening.

Una had to answer, "He was invited to ... dance ... but politely declined. Four other customers were not so shy. They all stood up to join in at the same time, to the degree that Esmeralda was unable to ... tutor ... them all at once, and needed help."

"I hope," said Helena. "That she was assisted by some kind soul."

"Oh yes," replied Una. "I could not leave her struggling to ... dance ... with all four of them. I joined her on the stage and did my best to relieve her of the attentions of two of them."

Yani had finished his beer and I ordered him another. He looked up at me, saying quietly, "I have been a dutiful nephew to my Aunts. But Una was the first of my own age."

I understood him to be talking about the night we played cards, when Anya, Helena and I brought him and Una together.

"But," he continued, very quietly. "When Una took on the men on the stage I was astonished. She ... danced ... with them until they couldn't dance any more. I then knew that I would never be able to give her what she needed. I am a mere youth compared with her, though our ages are similar. I was too scared to ... dance ... in public. And too weak to ... dance ... the way they did."

He looked at Una in misery, "I have lost her."

"You have not lost me," she replied. "Master Damion, tell him that he has not lost me."

"If Una says you have not lost her," said Helena, before I could make up something wise. "Then you have not lost her. I was the same age as my husband, Justin, when we married and he was sometimes the man, but oft the boy, making foolish wagers, playing jokes upon his friends, and many other childish things. But I loved him. Loved him with every fibre of my being."

I took the spare key from my pouch and gave it to Yani, "Take this, in case your Aunt is asleep. Go home and talk to Una,."

I was about to say more but Helena laid her hand over mine to still me.

"But most importantly," she whispered to the pair. "Listen to each other."

I watched Una and Yani walk across the fair with interest. They walked hand in hand, like young lovers everywhere, and their heads were bowed towards each other as they discussed, quietly, what Helena had said to them.

I was a little ashamed about what was happening here. Helena and I were matchmaking, hoping that Una and Yani would form a bond that might lead to marriage. It was really only one degree removed from what my mother was planning for my future. I must stop trying to push them together.

"Before we retire," I said to Helena on the way home. "I must tell you more about Victor. You knew him, but only as an occasional visitor to my apartment. There should be no secrets between us. I must tell you about the work we did together."

"In bed," smiled Helena. "After we have ... expressed our love."

And so it was. As we lay together, after a very pleasing encounter, I told her of his ambitions, the nocturnal adventures for 'parts', the laboratory. Then the day his work got him thrown out of university, and what I believed he was doing in that dark tower. It was hard at first, for I had promised him not to reveal to the world what he was working on until he showed it off himself.

But, if what I suspected had happened, it would not be many days before the whole of Carlsbruck knew what Victor was doing, and there would be little point in secrecy. Helena lay in my arms listening, not interrupting, until I became silent. When she spoke, I confess, her question took me by surprise.

"Why?"

"Sorry Helena?"

"Why?" she repeated, looking up at my baffled face, for I did not understand the question. "For what purpose did he want to restore life to pieces of dead flesh? Oh I understand your tale of this evening. Of Victor watching his parents pleasuring, of his disgust. But is that really why he wanted to undertake all this work, just to avoid pleasuring. He could have become a monk and achieved the same result."

"Well ... he wanted to prove it could be done." I replied. I realised that I had never asked Victor this fundamental question about his work, and that this was a weak answer. What was the purpose of his work? To do it, just to prove you could do it, was like climbing a mountain. An exercise in strength and stamina that makes the climber feel elated, but contributes little to society as a whole. An entertainment, not work.

Or was it to spite God, to prove that man could create life by a different method than the one provided by the Almighty. That showed considerable anger if that was the case. Anger against a deity that had, as far as I could see, blessed him with a fit body, an incredible intellect, and a wealthy family that would permit him a strong role in society. There might be other things that could make him rail against his maker, but if that was the case I could not see them.

"And if it could be done ... what then?" said Helena.

I had no answer. Was my old friend just doing this to challenge his intellect, to challenge God, or was there an even deeper purpose that even he did not see? Helena broke into my thoughts...

"A man made from dead flesh might be a good servant," she pointed out. "He could be set to work in the fields. But we have many men, living men, who already do this work. Are they to starve, unemployed, while once dead flesh works their plots?"

Helena was making me look again at Victor's work, and the consequences, rather than the challenges. Oh no! Does this mean I should think of the consequences of my research? What an elixir of pleasure, accessible to all, might cause to happen?

"Or," Helena continued relentlessly. "A man made from dead flesh might be a soldier. Would one who was once dead fear death? Could he be sent against the foe even if the odds of survival were slim, so that Generals become more reckless with their troops? And when the battle is over would the ...

victor

... simply gather up the pieces and make more troops from them? Would we have war without end, because there is no loss of life, and love, to press nations to make peace?"

She had conjured a nightmare vision, a world where constructs of flesh ploughed the fields, worked the mines, and made war. Where the living became simply a source of spare parts. And I had noticed her emphasis of the two meanings of victor, the winner and the man. Helena hated war, as any sensible person did, but with the addition of sorrow at the personal loss it had given her. She must be devastated by the image she conjures up.