Phillips Harbour
October 20, 1868. Tuesday evening.
When Englishman and chimpanzee arrived at The Red Flag, they found the inn doing a brisk dinner trade, mostly for locals. Several men, including Greg Oldridge, laugh and jibe over a game of cards at a table near the middle of the room. Four soberly dressed newcomers, two wearing clerical collars, sit in the far corner, polite to Gertie but appearing standoffish nonetheless. Dr. Greene and his wife are having dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Jenkens, and a couple of vaguely familiar-looking lumberyard workers are eating with two women who are probably farmer's daughters.
As soon as Gertie finishes bringing bowls of chowder to the Greenes and the Jenkens, she comes to the door to greet the two new arrivals. "Evening Mr. Shaft, Mr. Caliban." She bobs in a curtsey. "And how are you feeling today, Mr. Caliban?" she addresses the chimpanzee with a concerned look. "Better, I hope. I've heard you had a rough time of it." Funny to think this is the same serving girl that was nervous around the ape only a few weeks ago.
The ape smiles (closed lips, since big crooked monkey teeth seem to startle most people) up at the serving girl, and tries to look all improved, with just enough tiredness showing through to keep bringing in the sympathy. He doffs his bowler hat (a change from his usual fez) in her direction.
"He's much improved, thanks to Dr. Greene and his assistant," Herbert says, doffing his hat. "I see you've got a full house tonight, but I was wondering if the Mikkelsens happened to be in their room at the moment?"
The chimpanzee sniffs the air with evident delight.
She grins back at him, daring to reach out and fuzzle his furred head when he removes his hat. "It's good to see you up and about, sir." She glances up at Mr. Shaft's words. "The Mikkelsens? Mmm, I don't think so. They're usually out during the day. Miss Mikkelsen likes to go for long rambles and her brother always escorts her." At Caliban's inhalation, she adds, "We've room enough left here, sir, if you wanted a bite to eat."
Caliban gives his master a hopeful look.
(if a fuzzled one)
Shaft can hardly deny a recovering patient, so nods to Gertie and says, "That sounds wonderful, and I'm certain Caliban could do with a bit of meat."
Ooking with delight at his master's approval, the ape moves to ferry up a stool and a chair to a table, within earshot of the cards table if it can be arranged. He eyes the game with almost professional interest.
After a moment, Gertie adds, "Oh, and the Mikkelsens usually come home a little after sundown. They don't stay out that late, especially what with all the strange doings around." She leads them around to the table with the Greenes and the Jenkens. "You don't mind if Mr. Shaft and his friend sit with you, do you?"
Dr Greene says, "Not at all." The others give her and the chimp looks ranging from puzzled to askance at her identification of Caliban as 'friend', but no one seems displeased by the suggestion.
"I hope we are not intruding, and that you're all doing well this evening?" Herbert asks as he takes a seat.
The waitress glances over her shoulder to see Caliban chimphandling a stool to the table, and grins. "I'll be right back with two more bowls," she says. The Greenes' table is within easy earshot of the game; it's loud enough that even the corner tables would be hard-pressed not to overhear.
"It's a pleasure, Mr. Shaft," Mrs. Greene says. "I've heard so much about you, it's good to meet you at last! I'm glad to see your pet is doing better, too. What an awful ordeal!"
Hopping onto the stool brings Caliban's shoulders to just over the height of the table. He perches and sets his hat down to the side, having been brought up properly not to wear a hat indoors, then makes little greeting noises at the Greenes.
"Awful indeed, but God willing there will be no other animal attacks," Herbert says, nodding to Mrs. Greene. "And it is always a pleasure to meet the better-halves of prominent men, Mrs. Greene."
Mrs. Greene, a middle-aged woman with dark hair greying in silvery streaks, gives a nervous giggle at Caliban's ook, before returning her attention to a smile at Mr. Shaft. Mrs. Jenkens shifts in her seat, looking unsettled, while her husband eats his soup in stoic silence.
The game at the nearby table looks to be some variant of rummy, with the men discarding and drawing one card (from either the discard or the deck) each turn, and laying down sets of cards to score points. The round ends whenever one player has no cards left in his hand. If they're playing for money, it's not immediately obvious as there's no cash on the table.
After a bit, Caliban realizes that no money is changing hands. His interest in the game dwindles noticably. He studies his vague reflection in the tinware, then glances about the room.
Caliban and Shaft's arrival has touched off a conversation about the various peculiar events in town -- particularly the strange beast that attacked Caliban. But it ranges back and forth, from Rev. Hale's and Mr. Girard's mysterious disappearance and return, to the Frenchman's more recent disappearance, and touching upon the corpses, both the one washed-up and the one missing. Whenever the conversation turns to the more grisly aspects, Mrs. Greene endeavors to steer it back to something lighter. She's a voluble speaker, filling up any silences with nervous chatter.
Their conversation appears to have attracted the attention of town's newest arrivals, however. The four men share few common physical traits, ranging from short to tall, slim to stout, pale to swarthy. However, their similar clothing, close-cropped hair, and clean-shaven faces give them all the same general look. The slight, pale one in a clerical collar is giving them sidelong looks, and the conversation at his own table is muted. Perhaps they're only paying attention to Caliban's because they don't have much of their own to talk about.
Despite the crowd, Gertie is serving everyone quickly, and the conversation hadn't gotten far before she'd returned with chowder for Caliban and Mr. Shaft.
A grateful ook, and then Caliban performs a magical trick for Gertie: making his chowder disappear. He licks the bowl and then the spoon with great enthusiasm, making sounds of contentment.
The chimpanzee considers the newcomers, and then eyes the window. Mm. Whatever monkey plots he might have been devising evidently met with a dissatisfactory answer, as he settles back in his stool.
Even on a slow night, The Red Flag's waitress would be hard-pressed to keep up with Caliban's appetite. Nonetheless, not long after the chowder bowls are emptied, she's back with plates of meatloaf and corn on the cob. The chowder was excellent, while the meatloaf is less interesting: underspiced and a little overcooked. The corn, however, is perfect: sweet, steaming, lightly buttered and just a hint of salt.
Monkey noises of contentment accompany the ape's gnawing upon the corncob. Yes, waiting a little will be worthwhile.
Gertie slips Caliban another two ears of corn before the meal is finished. By the time even Mrs. Jenkens has finished picking at her meal, the sun has gone down. "Stayed longer than I meant to," Mr. Jenkens says, eyeing the deepening blue of the sky. "Not a good time to be out after dark."
"I'm afraid that's the truth," Dr. Greene says. "We'll be happy to give you and the missus a ride home, Kirk. Howabout you, Mr. Shaft? Care for a lift back to your boat?"
One thing Caliban noticed that hasn't happened: the return of Rae and Gustav Mikkelsen.
The ape beams up at Gertie and pats his stomach, now evidently full, though not distended. He nods up to his master with a few small ooks and makes walking gestures with one hand discreetly, before heading for the door. Hey Boss, cover for me, I'm going to do a little peeking about. Out for a bit of fresh air, no doubt.
The Englishman offers a nod to Caliban as the chimp steps away, and given his master's tacit approval, no one questions Caliban's departure. The humans discuss transportation issues while waiting for Gertie's return to settle the tab.
"Thank you, Dr. Greene, but I'm hoping to talk to the Mikkelsens when they return for the night," Herbert says to the doctor, and offers his wishes for the couples to have a safe journey home.
By the time the chimp returns to his master, twilight has turned to full darkness. The rummy game has emptied out along with almost all of the inn's other patrons. Only Mr. Shaft and the four churchmen remain in the main room. "God-fearing folk in this town, miss," one of them is saying to Gertie.
Herbert rolls his mug of warm cider between his hands, and begins to look worried that the Mikkelsens haven't returned yet - unless there's another way to get to their rooms he doesn't know about.
"Yes sir." Gertie ducks her head in a nod, glancing out the window. As she's walking away after bringing the men another round of tea, she murmurs to herself, "though I wouldn't say it's exactly God folks are afraid of jes' now."
The ape's fur is cool to the touch, thanks to the chill autumn wind, but he doesn't seem to mind it a bit. He waves to his master, hopping into the chair next to him.
"Any unusual activity?" Herbert whispers to Caliban.
The stairwell leading to the second floor comes directly out of the main room. Unless there's a rear staircase, or the Mikkelsens are in the habit of climbing back in through their bedroom windows, they're still out.
The ape shakes his head to his master.
Not wanting to dwell too much on the lateness of Mikkelsens, Herbert turns his chair to face the other occupied table. "Pardon my asking, gentlemen," he says to the quartet of strangers, "but are you by chance friends of the Reverend Hale?"
The ape goes to offer Gertie some help putting away the dishes, by way of repaying her for her, well, niceness about food. Food being of course, quite important to the chimpanzee.
The other men look a little surprised at being addressed. The short, pale man answers first. "We're acquainted, yes," he says.
When Caliban reaches the kitchen door, Gertie smiles at him but shoos him back to the main room. While she might appreciate the help, her mroe-excitable aunt is also in the kitchen. The stout matron gives a squeak of alarm at the first glimpse of the chimp.
"Ah, are you staying here at the Inn then, or over at the church?" Shaft asks next, trying to make small talk.
A little glumly, the chimpanzee goes back to the fireside to await his master's return from chitchat.
"We've rooms at the inn," the slight man replies. "We did not wish to impose on Reverend Milton's hospitality with such a large party, particularly seeing as he already has one guest. Forgive me; I am Rev. Woodrome; my companions are Rev. Locke -- " he indicates the tall brown-haired man of middle age and medium build " -- my manservant Mr. Bolton -- " gesturing to the heavily-built swarthy man who looks more like a farm laborer than a gentleman's servant "-- and Rev. Locke's secretary, Mr. Adams." Mr. Adams is likewise young and fit, but he has a more genteel air to him as he nods to Mr. Shaft. "And you are?"
"Herbert Shaft, of London," Herbert says, and stands to give a little bow in lieu of crossing over to shake hands. "I take it you are here on business then?" he asks, considering there's a secretary and a ... manservant?
"A pleasure to meet you," Rev. Locke murmurs, bowing as well.
Rev. Woodrome echoes the gesture. "Indeed, we are." The small, lithe man seems on the point of adding something else, but he does not continue.
"Perhaps your presence will also aid to dispel some of the darkness that seems to have fallen upon this fine town," Herbert notes.
"That is certainly our intention," Rev. Woodroome says.
His fellow purses his lips. "I imagine you've not been here long, Mr. Shaft, judging by your address. Yet even you can see there is something amiss in this humble place."
The ape, though evidently enjoying the fire's warmth after an autumn stroll, nevertheless takes an occasional covert glance toward the four men and his master.
"Oh, trust me, I know something dark is afoot," Herbert says. "My own.. ah.. servant.. was attacked by a fell beast in the night."
"Indeed. And what did you make of this beast, Mr. Shaft?" Rev. Locke asks. Beside him, Mr. Adams unfolds a leather-bound notepad and uncaps a fountain pen.
"Well, I did not actually see it myself, but the footprints were huge and defied easy classification," Shaft says. "I'd hoped to speak with a traveling huntress who is staying at the Inn, to inquire if this was the beast she claimed to be stalking here. May I ask what sort of solution you propose?"
Mr. Adams takes careful notes in his book. Rev. Woodrome answers before Locke can. "That depends entirely on the nature of the problem."
"The nature of the problem?" Shaft asks, leaning forward a bit. "Are you suggesting this creature may not be mortal flesh and blood?"
The chimpanzee gives the notepad an assessing look before returning to his supposed study of the fire, pulling off his shoes and wiggling his toes in happy drying-ness.
"It would be premature for me suggest anything, Mr. Shaft. We only arrived here today and we had no word of your particular beast until this evening,/ Woodroome replies.
"But by all accounts, unnatural and corrupt forces are at work here," Locke adds. "We must determine who is summoning the devil's work upon this town."
Locke continues, "Would you be able to show myself and my associates any examplesof these unnatural tracks?"
Now that he's thinking about it, Caliban's pretty sure he saw Mr. Adams taking notes earlier in the evening, with the book in his lap instead of occupying table space.
"Mr. Jenkens owns the property where the attack took place," Shaft offers. "And Sheriff Ponds has more physical evidence, I believe."
"We shall be sure to follow up with them," Rev. Locke is saying as the door opens, a cold wind blowing in with it. All four churchmen look up as a willowy fair-haired woman steps inside, hugging her arms to her shoulders. Her hair is done up in a coil on the crown of her head, but it's come partly undone through exertion, wispy strands have worked their way loose from it. She has a distraught, unhappy look on her features. A grim-faced blonde man follows her.
The chimpanzee's gaze turns from toe-meditation to the latecomers. He unneccessarily ooks and points for his boss's notice.
Finally, Herbert thinks, and stands up (that being the polite thing to do when a European Lady enters the room). Of course, now he as to think of an appropriate greeting that won't result in Gustav glaring at him..
"It is good to see you made it safely back to the Inn," Herbert finally says to the pair.
The other men follow suit in rising with Herbert. Gertie emerges from the kitchen and beams a relieved smile at the two, rushing to take the woman's coat. "Miss Mikkelsen! We were startin' to worry! Glad you made it back -- you too, Mr. Mikkelsen."
The ape waves to be in on the general welcoming, smiling.
"Thank you, Mr. -- ah -- Zaft?" Miss Mikkelsen replies, nodding to him and the other men by extention. "I apologize, Miss Gertie, ve did not mean to vorry you." She looks strained, shrugging out of her coat with her brother's help.
"If you don't mind my asking, did something go amiss for you tonight?" Herbert asks, clasping his hands behind his back.
Gertie looks on anxiously as she takes the sister's coat from Gustav Mikkelsen's hands, and waits while he shrugs out of his own. He mutters something in Norwegian at Herbert's question. His sister glances at him and gives a quiet sigh. "No, Mr. Zaft. Ve haf no trouble. If you vill excuse us, gentleman? Ve are fine but it hass been a long day." She takes a step towards the stairs.
"Before you go, Miss Mikkelsen," Herbert says, stepping forward, "could you tell us a little more about the animal you seek? Caliban here has been attacked by a large beast, you see, and I was wondering if it was the same one you are looking for."
The ape glances sideways at the churchmen.
Miss Mikkelsen pauses with her foot on the stairs, looking at first Herbert, then her brother. Mr. Mikkelsen favors the Englishman with a surly look as he adjusts the strap on the hunting rifle slung over his shoulder. "You vere attacked by a volf, vere you not?" the sister says. "Or a bear? Ve do not seek any such beast. I am here to find a ... peaceful creature. Not von that vould verk such destruction."
Herbert also glances towards the rifle, wondering why it would be needed for a 'peaceful' creature. "Ah, well, do be careful then," he says. "There is at least one very un-peaceful creature out there as well."
Mr. Adams is bent over the table, quietly taking more notes. The other three churchfolk have a kind of mixed attentiveness to them, like involuntary eavesdroppers who haven't yet decided if they should be pretending to ignore a conversaation they have no part in, or if they should be polite attending to the other speakers.
"I am affraid you are right," Miss Mikkelsen says. "My brother hass taken steps to be certain ve are protected. But I fear the animal for vich ve come hass been frightened away by zese things."
"A shame, if true," Shaft says, and gives a little bow again, saying, "Please forgive me for intruding upon you like this, I'm sure you're very tired."
"It iss no trouble," Miss Mikkelsen replies. "But I am veary. Good night, Mr. Zaft, gentlemen." She inclines her head to the others, who nod back, then ascends the stairs. Gustav follows her, muttering to himself in Norwegian. He spares one more suspicious glance to Mr. Shaft before disappearing at the top of the stairs.
The ape dutifully puts his socks and shoes back on, then goes to collect his hat from the table. "Ook," he says to his master by way of cheerful re-greeting.
Collecting his own hat, Shaft nods to Caliban, and says to the other men (and Gertie), "Thank you for your company this evening, gentlemen. If you'll excuse me now, we must be off."
"Of course. It is late," Rev. Locke says, offering a bow. "We should be retiring ourselves. Good night, sir." As the four follow the Mikkelsens up the stairs, Gertie gives a quiet sigh and starts putting the chairs up on the tables.
"Sorry to keep you up so late as well, Gertie," Herbert offers, smiling and giving her a bow as well, but moving quickly to the door - hopefully to see which windows light up upstairs.
The ape gives his master a look, then nods sidelong over his shoulder in the churchmen's direction.
"No trouble, sir," Gertie says as he steps out quickly. "We used to be up hours later, before the trouble started," she murmurs to herself. Outside, Mr. Shaft observes candle lights going out in two windows facing the street. One of the corner windows is unlit at first, then a glow starts within and doesn't go out.
"That corner must be the exorcists, or whatever they are," Shaft whispers to Caliban.
The ape observes the windows. Pointing up at the corner room, he indicates through a pantomime of four crosses that the churchmen have taken up residence in that, and the next room, and have boxes of certain sizes. Pointing to the two side rooms, he lets his boss know the Mikkelsens live there, and at the time he checked, everything seemed, well, for lack of a better gesture, 'okay'.
"I wonder what they've brought with them in those boxes then," Shaft muses, but doesn't stick around to be noticed. "Let's get back to the Babbage, Caliban. I think have some darkroom work to do."
Although it's full dark out, the hour is not yet late, and Mr. Shaft has an abundant supply of lamp oil to burn -- very little of which is required for his dark room, at any rate. He spends what winds up being several hours working with the negative of one of his darklight camera photos. It gives him more trouble than expected, and at one point, he fears he's destroyed the negative when he accidentally spills some chemicals on it. Fortunately, he manages to clean it off in time. At close to midnight, he finally produces his desired result: a large photoprint showing only a close-up of the rearing white hart from the scene at the bridge. The bits of other figures that overlay the image are muddied and indistinct, but the hart itself stands out clearly in this print.
Yawning, the ape peers up from a quilt wrapped around himself, catching the noises his boss inevitably makes when something goes right after much effort.
After stowing away the chemicals and hanging the print to dry, Shaft leaves the darkroom and goes to scrub his hands clean in the small bathroom nearby (nice thing about boats is that everything is close at hand). "That was a bit of a chore. But I think we will know by the end of tomorrow if the Mikkelsens are after the stag," he notes to Caliban.
The chimpanzee looks blearily at the photo. "Ook."
"I'll add a little note and have it delivered to them in the morning," Herbert says, sitting down across from Caliban. "Then we just need to find out if Miss Townes' staff is where she left it, if Mrs. Everchild has made any progress with those artifacts, and if there's time, convince Miss Pau to withdraw from the Game."
"Ook," the ape says drowsily. He rubs his chin doubtfully at the last part, then points down to where the Machine rests. Raising both hands out of his blankeys, he pantomimes swirling motions drawing inward to a center.
"Yes, we still need to try and power up the Engine," Herbert notes, and mentally goes through his list of remaining preparations for the Amplifier. "We have animal necroplasm now to power the Lamp, which I am hoping will avoid the problem we had last time."
The ape nods sleepily. "Ook," he says, and the sentiment of 'goodnight' is plain because snores follow soon thereafter.
"Good man," Herbert says, yawning and sinking a bit into his chair. "You always know the best response to a situation, Caliban," he mutters, and dozes off himself.