Brides of Frankengeld Pt. 04

October 3rd 1784

Damion's Journal; he is talking to Belali, the morning after they have made love.

I pointed at my study, my consulting room, and she nodded. We left our breakfasts and almost ran to the room. Inside I put my hands on her shoulders.

"Are you alright? Are you happy?" I asked.

< yes happy... yes yes >

"I was so upset when you were not beside me when we awoke. I thought you had run away."

< no run... went to my bed >

"I wanted to say you are beautiful," I admitted.

< me >

"Yes, you," I assured her.

< I feel good today >

"I'm so pleased."

< I feel loved today >

"You are deserving of love," I said.

< breakfast... patients soon >

Belali, ever practical, had pointed out we needed to finish our breakfasts if we were to be ready for patients. I returned to my meal feeling much better about last night's pleasuring. I would happily provide that service again but I suspect it will not be long before Helena, Una and my other friends will be matchmaking and finding someone who recognises her beauty as well as I.

I remembered that the Chief of Police said he wanted to consult me today so I searched my library for a book I had purchased at University. In Engolstadt there were several bookshops that catered to the needs of the students. One of them had a good range of medical journals and volumes on surgery and the art of the apothecary. I was a frequent customer and, one day, had found a little book written by a military surgeon. The first half of the book dealt with amputations, the surgical removal of war blasted limbs, sad but a necessity. But the second half was more positive, it continued valuable information on after care and the use of prostheses to restore some semblance of normality to the victim. I sat and read whilst waiting for my first patient.

With the book in my hand my thoughts went back to the young man who had suffered that dreadful injury to his arm in the first days of my tenure as doctor at number 34. It had been necessary to perform an amputation in his case, and his hand was still in my laboratory. It was performing valuable service as a Hand of Toxicity. I wondered what had happened to the lad after my intervention. Perhaps I should seek him out? The stump should have healed by now, but if it had not then he would need my help.

I heard the Chief before I saw him. His gruff voice penetrating the door to my consulting room as he gave a hearty good morning to Helena and the others in the hallway. Moments later Helena saw him through to my consulting room.

"Damion," she said. "It is the Chief of Police."

"Good morning, sir," I said, rising to give him a bow and a handshake.

"Damion," continued Helena. "Shall I send in Belali to observe?"

"If the Chief does not mind," I looked at him.

"The young black girl who was threatened yesterday?" he growled. "I have no objections, especially since she is learning a trade that will be of benefit to the citizens of Carlsbruck."

Helena guided Belali into the room and departed, closing the door.

"It is my stump," said the Chief. "It is giving me some pain."

Belali helped me remove the Chief's uniform and then his shirt. He sat there as I studied his prosthesis which fitted onto what remained of his left arm. There was a shoulder pad and leather straps to hold it in place, which we unbuckled and his stump was revealed. The cut had been made just above the elbow. It seemed likely that the cannonball that had struck him, for that was the tale, was a small calibre round-shot, and that it had shattered his forearm and done serious damage to his elbow joint. A shame for had it struck just a little lower then it might have been possible to save the joint.

As I studied the stump, which was reddened and sore, Belali examined the prosthetic. The Chief's skin was unbroken and I could find nothing fundamentally wrong with the limb, but there was a clear reaction. I applied a salve that I hoped would sooth the irritation and was about to suggest he avoided using the device for a week or so while his stump recovered when Belali gave a double clap.

The Chief turned, surprised, to see what the commotion was about, in time to see Belali sign...

< look here... sewing bad >

"What is she doing?" he growled. "What does she say?"

"I think she believes there is something wrong with your prosthetic," I explained.

I lit the lantern and angled the prosthetic so that the light illuminated the cavity. At the bottom of the cavity the sewing had clearly come undone. Not so much that it would be obvious but the threads had rotted away and the leather was starting to ruck up, causing abrasion.

"Well done lass!" growled the Chief. "I'd never have spotted that. It did feel a little different but I had no idea. Yes... well done... your eyes are very sharp."

Belali ran from the room and returned with needles and thread. I helped her to remove the inner lining from the prosthetic and she sat and sewed.

The Chief turned to me, it was clear he wanted to say more. "Can I speak freely?" he said, nodding at Belali. I was about to say that she understood patient confidentiality, and would not repeat anything he said, but she stopped sewing and rapidly signed...

< speak to nobody... no tongue >

She gave an impish grin. I translated her words.

"Jesus, lass," he laughed. "You joke about your disability. I wish I was as able to overcome my dark thoughts about mine."

"What did you want to say, sir," I invited him to unburden himself.

"It is not medical, but a problem of the heart," he replied.

"Feelings affect us, the mind on the body, though we don't know exactly why," I said.

He nodded, staring down at his single hand and his stump.

"I have written to Countess Alicia, whom you know," he said, quietly. "I have... strong... feelings for her and have invited her to partake in a cup of coffee with me at the Ritter Kaffeehaus."

"That sounds very pleasant," I said. I took his stump and smoothed more salve onto it, then massaged the cream over the reddened area of skin until it sank into the skin.

"But she has not replied," he continued. "I fear she has no interest in me."

"That I can explain," I said. "Alicia has travelled with Lord Philip and some others to Vienna. They have business there. So your letter may not have reached her yet."

"Ah," he said, sounding relieved. "I sent the letter by one of my men to the Countess's cottage that I believe she shares with Helena Ravenstein's niece. He reported it delivered but he must have simply put it through the door and not into the Countess's hand."

"It sounds likely," I agreed. I finished the massage and wiped my hands with a cloth to remove the salve from me.

There was a pause, then he continued, while staring at his stump, "I am not a complete man, I fear she will not be able to return my feelings. That she will see me as less than a true man. Less than whole."

Belali looked up sharply at that, doubtless thinking of her own situation, I saw her hesitate. Was she going to sign? Then she continued her sewing, leaving me to reply.

"A lack of a hand does not make you less brave, less thoughtful, or less capable of loving. Only if you let it."

"I suppose," he said, glancing over at our diligent companion sewing away. "I should take my example from your assistant."

Belali smiled at him.

"I know the Countess is... unusual," he admitted.

Belali checked he wasn't looking in her direction, then signed.

< yes... vampire >

"But," he continued. "A strong woman does not cause me concern, or the fact that she saved my life at the windmill. Many men would resent that she was a better soldier than I on that evening. I do not."

I remembered their embrace that night in front of the windmill where Victor Frankenstein had been carried away by his monster. The torch bearing mob, the screams of 'Monster!' And Alicia overcoming her fear of the mob to defend him. Was this the beginning of a deeper relationship? The moment when mutual respect turned to friendship, or more?

"I did not know where to send the letter so I asked the clerks at the Town Hall to discover for me her address. They remembered the purchase of the cottage. It was done by your brother's Lawyer, using ancient gold coin."

"Oh yes," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Her sire - the vampire who had created her - our family Lawyer, had paid for the cottage using gold he had collected centuries ago. A dangerous clue to Alicia's origins, perhaps.

"It was all good coin, old, but of lawful weight. I was pleased to know her dwelling, especially since I could find no records of her address in the town before the cottage was purchased."

"I believe," I said. "That she was previously living in property owned by Madam Minna, Freida's mother."

A bit of a lie. I missed out that it was Minna's family mausoleum that Alicia was using as her accommodation.

"Ah, that would account for it," growled the Chief.

At this moment Belali clapped twice and held up the inner lining of the prosthetic, all repaired. We pushed it back into place and I checked for any roughness. There was none and we watched as the Chief replaced it on his stump. Belali stood by with his shirt and uniform and soon he was back fully dressed and looking the very image of authority.

The Chief presented her with coin, saying, "I think this will cover the consultation and the repair. May I return if there is need of further needlecraft?"

Belali took the coin, gave him the tub of salve, curtseyed, and nodded.

"Damion," said the Chief, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. "I have asked a taxidermist to meet myself and Freida at Durishaus. At two in the afternoon. Karl has agreed to an exploration of the bear that Freida assured me contains a dead body. Would you be able to join us there? For your insights."

I nodded my agreement. We had known for a while that a mystery surrounded that bear. To see it revealed would be most interesting.

"And," continued the Chief. "Perhaps you could bring along your sharp-eyed employee. I would value her talents."

Belali looked so proud to be invited. She beamed with happiness. There was no way I could have excluded her from the expedition, even if I had wanted to.

"We will be there, sir," I said.

"And Damion."

"Yes, sir?"

"Please call me Vasile."

"Oh... yes... very well sir... er Vasile."

He departed and I was nearly knocked over by Belali who grabbed me around the waist and hugged me close. I patted her on the shoulder, pleased she felt safe enough to express her feelings.

The door opened and Helena stepped in.

"There's another patient for you, Damion," she said. "If you're ready... oh... perhaps I should get them to wait a minute or two."

"A minute would be helpful," I replied, trying to gently untangle myself from Belali.

"The Chief told me that you and Belali are to join him at Durishaus this afternoon, an investigation. Do I assume that's what this..." she indicated my assistant who was doing a good impression of a limpet, "... is all about."

"Belali is grateful for the experience," I said, then had a cunning thought. "Is that not right, Belali?"

Refusing to answer Helena would have been rude, but to do so Belali had to let go of me. She signed...

< yes sharp eyes yes >

Which both reassured Helena and freed me to see the next patient.

After lunch we prepared to depart for our trip to Durishaus. With no expectation of the need to treat a patient, after all if there was a corpse in the bear it was long past any medical help, I filled my bag with a scalpel, magnifying glass, and some small glass pots for any samples we might take. To this Belali added a pair of scissors and Helena put the magical dagger into the side pocket.

"Things don't always stay dead," she whispered.

"True," I agreed. "Do you not want to come too?"

When, in the past, I have gone into peril she has always insisted on being by my side.

"I have no doubt," she grinned. "That Belali will protect you as well as I could. I am supplanted in my medical assistant duties, and in your bed."

She struck up a pose with the back of her hand on her forehead and did a passable impression of an actress portraying despair, saying, "I would throw myself into the gutter now... if I didn't have a more important job to do."

"But taking Belali to my bed was your idea," I started to protest, then understood she was teasing me. Helena laughed, Belali giggled, and I stopped trying to justify myself.

"So," I said, a little peeved by the teasing. "What is this important job you have to do? More important than my safety!"

"I am to meet with Sophie," she replied. "We are to plan the expedition to the ruined windmill."

"Please tell me," I said, my heart in my throat. "That you will not undertake the endeavour without me."

"Sorry Damion," Helena grinned. "Are you telling me that I must not go into danger without you?"

She flounced off before I could reply.

< I like Helena > signed Belali.

"I like her too," I sighed.

Belali and I walked to the stables and hired a cart for the journey to Durishaus. As we travelled we enjoyed the afternoon air which was cool, but pleasant. There was a different set of wagons on the edge of the market square this afternoon. The ones we had seen last night, with their rude and aggressive drivers, had moved on to the field to start setting up the Dark Circus.

The lane to Durishaus was fringed with trees that had begun to change colour, gold and brown, russet and yellow, the leaves were showing that winter would soon be upon us.

I was pleased to see, when we arrived at the gates to the estate that someone had removed the terrible statues from atop the gate posts. They had been there all my life. Man-beast and Beast-man, they had been a horror that I did not entirely understand until this year. A reflection that our family was cursed. Wolfwere blood in our lineage. Now the gate posts were capped with simple spheres. Elegant balls of stone, chosen to match the colour of the posts, and the statues had been taken away. To where, I did not know, and didn't care, I was just happy to see them gone. If Karl had done this then he was lifted in my estimation.

Karl, my brother, had never known he was wolfwere, only understanding that my father was strangely dominant in the household. I suspect that some supernatural force kept Karl subdued to my father's will, and that his frustration with this pressure came out in cruelty. Freida suggested that this must be the case where two male wolfwere live in close proximity. Either one dominates the other or they would doubtless fight to the death. But now, with my cure in him, and my Father gone, Karl was becoming more and more gentle and considerate each day. The curse was lifted from our family.

That didn't mean to say that the world had rid itself entirely of the wolfwere curse. I was sure there were more of them out there. There had been hundreds of years for the curse to spread into other families. But it felt good to have a cure that could be offered. And that my own immediate family were now free of it.

We had timed our journey well, the Chief and Freida were standing on the steps to the front door of Durishaus, chatting. And Karl was standing with them. He had his walking stick, a clear sign he had been visiting the estate farms, and was smiling most pleasantly. As I approached he turned to me.

"Damion," he said. "Welcome to Durishaus. Have you come to join the Chief in his investigations?"

"Karl," I replied. "Yes, with your permission brother. If, as is suggested, there is a body in the bear then I thought I might be useful."

"Well " he snorted. "It seems a very strange thing to me that somebody might have stuck a body in one of our bears. But I have no objections to your investigation. The taxidermist is already inside studying the beast. Why don't we join him."

We moved inside and I noticed Belali trying to stand back, to become a servant. Karl glanced at her, then to my astonishment, he smiled. I had never known him smile at a servant before.

"I see you have brought back my slave," he started, then he touched her on the shoulder with actual tenderness. "I have to tell you, Damion, that I rather regret having sold her to you. She nursed me through the weeks it took for my wound to heal and never once seemed irritated, though I will admit I was sometimes a most annoying patient. I find I miss her gentle touch."

"She is free now, brother," I said, firmly. "It was the first thing I did."

"Free?" he said quietly, his expression that of puzzlement, as if the idea was strange to him. Then his expression changed and he again smiled, "Good for you, brother. I would not have had the courage to do that, in case I lost her."

"Belali," I turned to my new assistant, aware we were talking over her. "I think my brother wishes to thank you for your excellent nursing." I looked at my brother, pointedly.

Karl bowed, very formally, and took Belali's hand.

"Thank you, mistress Belali."

He kissed it, she curtseyed, and then she signed.

< you are welcome >

"Damion," Karl turned back to me. "Join me in my study when you've finished, if you will. We need to talk about family things."

He walked away. Calling her mistress was a strong message that she was an independent woman and I was proud of my brother for doing so. I leaned over and whispered in Belali's ear, "Well, mistress Belali, shall we join our friends?"

We walked over to the others clustered around the bear. The Chief was asking the taxidermist how they should proceed.

"Well sir," he replied. "The main stitching is down the spine so we need to turn it around. Then I can open it up."

I knew very little about the art and wondered if the skeleton of the creature was still inside it. I asked the craftsman.

"Well sir, it is not common to use bones," he answered. "More like we'll find a wood frame inside, with wire and wool to add shape. But the man who made this may have used the skull of the creature, wrapped in clay, to give the head better form. That is sometimes the way it is done."

He laid out his tools and then grasped the base to start turning it. The rest of us added our strength and, after a little resistance, for the thing had not been moved in many years, it shifted. The creature swayed slightly, as if it were alive and looking around for prey, it was an unnerving effect.

The craftsman pulled out a wickedly curved knife and carefully cut the linen cords that had been used to pull the skin tight. Linen thread is very strong, it cannot be snapped by the strength of ordinary men, and is used wherever strong, permanent, repairs are needed. As the man worked the gap opened a little to reveal a wooden spine, which he invited us to view. Then he made some more cuts and folded back a flap of skin. He held up his little oil lamp and looked inside the creature.

"Fuckin' hell!" he gasped, staggering back. "Sorry sirs, sorry mistresses. I meant no disrespect."

We took the little lamp from him and looked where he had opened up a window into the interior of the bear. More wooden frame could be seen, but also a face. Shrivelled, mummified, but still recognisable as human, it gazed out with empty eye sockets.

"Good lord," said the Chief of Police. "So it's true. We must get the body out."

"Well sir," said the craftsman. I had noted he started every reply with this phrase. It is common for people to do this sort of behaviour. It gives time to think. He continued, "We must cut the skin free. I will, with your pardon, cut the stitches, and you pull the skin so I can see clearly where to slice. I fear that otherwise the unfortunate inside may get cut."

It took half an hour to get the skin from the frame and when we had done so we were immediately faced with a mystery. We had expected that, if the body had been placed in the beast just before the skin had been added, it would easily come free. Perhaps held up by a few cords or wires. But what we found was shocking, and illogical.

Freida saw it first, of course.

"This piece of wood passes through the thigh of the corpse," she noted. "And there are others that pass through ankle, shoulder and one arm."

"How can that be?" I asked, baffled.

"Well sir," the craftsman spoke. He looked as baffled as I. "I do not know. This frame could not be made in this way. I could not build it around a body. Look, this spar is fastened to here, which is right, and fastened here, but it passes through the shoulder. I cannot see how you could do this with a dead body in the way. And, surely, it would be rotting as you worked!"

I looked closely at the body. I had to agree with our taxidermist, it was mummified now, but cannot have been so when put here. If it had been a mummy when these pieces of wood were pushed through then it would have shattered. Dry flesh would have broken under such strain. I had only dissected one cadaver mummified like this at university. It was the same, the flesh more often crumbling under the scalpel than being cut, especially if the knife was a little blunt.

"We must cut these spars and lift the body from its cage," declared the Chief. "We cannot study it here. I had expected that we would move it to the Town Hall. I have a room prepared in the tower."

"Yes sir, that is where it must go." Freida agreed. "But can we learn more while the body is in situ? It feels to me that we may damage it in the process of removal. And clues may be lost."

Everyone agreed so magnifying glasses were brought out and we intently studied the corpse. So occupied were we that we paid little attention to things around us. The front door opened and the sound of female voices dragged us from our study of the corpse.

I turned to look. Two women had entered the house, one in the dress of a chambermaid, and the other was Katy. She was dressed in rich robes in the style favoured by the merchant classes. My heart dropped and, for a moment, I wondered if everything I had thought I had experienced since my wedding had been just a fevered dream. That I was now awaking to a dreadful reality. That I was married. For here was the woman to whom I had been forcibly engaged. Who my father had intended to be my bride, the child-minded Katy.

"Oooh Damion," she had a faint lisp. "Tatiana and I have been playing with ballth in the garden. But we got cold and she thaid we should come in for a hot drink."

Tatiana, presumably the new chambermaid to replace Belali, curtseyed deeply to us all and said nothing. She glanced at the wooden frame with its grisly occupant and turned her eyes to the floor to avoid the horrid sight.

Katy turned to the Chief and studied his arm, "Why ith your hand made of wood?" It was a blunt question, made without any hint that the asking might be offensive. It was the question of a child, but then Katy was a seven year old girl's mind in the body of a twenty odd year old woman. I had narrowly avoided being married to this poor victim of horror beyond her ability to cope.

The Chief started to reply.

"Mistress," he said, in a gruff manner that told me that despite his tough exterior he was affected by his loss. "It happened on the battlefield. We were approaching a ridge and..."

But Katy had already lost interest and had wandered over to Belali. She poked my assistant's cheek and giggled.

"Why ith your skin the wrong colour?" she laughed. "Have you been playing with crayons and paint and got it all over you? I do that thometimes. At home Nanny tells me off and I have to have a bath."

For a moment I thought Katy was deliberately being rude and blessed Monifa for rescuing me from being permanently bound to this insensitive creature. Divorce was difficult to achieve in these times, only a submission to the Pope could release a couple. I would have been legally required to care for her and she would have been a blight on my life in the way that an actual child would not. A child would have eventually grown up, whereas Katy seemed fixed at seven years of age forever.

Then Katy saw the corpse. I expected her to scream but she didn't. The fascination of what she was seeing made her take two steps forward. "Lady in bear?" she asked us.

We muttered in the affirmative. I took another look at the body. Was it female? Did Katy see something we had not?

"My mummy wath eaten by a bear," Katy continued, recounting the horror she witnessed that drove her insane. "She's inthide a bear too."

I remembered entering this hallway years ago, before I went to university, and finding Katy talking to the stuffed bears. Communing with her dead mother. Did she think this was her mother? Another horror to warp her mind.

"Not mummy," Katy said, poking the corpse with her chubby finger. "Mummy was fat!"

She then turned to Tatiana and grinned, "Tatiana make me hot blackberryth... now... pleeeathe."

The please at the end of the sentence was long and drawn out, and very much an afterthought. The result of a governess or nanny repeatedly telling this child-woman that 'polite ladies always say please'. Tatiana looked at us in apology and guided her ward away up the stairs to one of the guest rooms. We all relaxed.

"Lucky escape there," said the Chief. "She called it a woman. Was that a guess?"

"There are features about the skull," I replied. "That suggest a female. And this clothing, though very deteriorated, could be a dress. But it could also be a clerk's or lawyer's robe."

"From the height of the body," said Freida. "This is not a child. And there seem to be a good set of teeth here, They are not worn down, or lost, so probably not an elderly person."

"Yes," I added. "Maybe twenty to forty years of age, at a guess. We might find more evidence when we autopsy the corpse."

Belali touched my arm and signed...

< keys belt mean woman >

She pointed at something that was nestled within the folds of the cloth. Freida nodded, an acknowledgement of Belali's sharp eyes, and gently pulled back the material. She revealed a chatelaine, a device that women wore on their belt to hold keys and other useful items. The style was inexpensive and practical, the sort a servant might wear, not the elaborate, precious metal, versions worn by a mistress of the house. There were four small keys on it.

This meant that the body was probably female, unless it was a man in disguise, which seemed unlikely. And of middle to lower class in status. Possibly a servant. My blood ran cold as I remembered that many of our housemaids had disappeared from Durishaus. Had been there one day and gone the next. I had come to understand, after seeing my father abuse Una, that he indulged his lusts with them. Forcing himself upon them. Undoubtedly that was the reason many ran away. Was this one of these poor girls that did not escape? Was she killed by my father? Even in death his shadow lay upon me.

"How long has this pair of bears been here?" asked the Chief.

That was an interesting question.

"All my life," I answered. "They are in my earliest memories. My brother might know. Or there might still be a receipt for the work. I am to talk with Karl when I finish here, I will inquire."

"If we can decide that," said Freida. "Then we might get a year in which this unfortunate person died."

While the craftsman carefully sawed away at one of the spars that held the corpse, Freida and Belali worked to remove the chatelaine. Finally Belali's nimble fingers released it and we could look closer. The four keys appeared to be made of brass.

"These are quite modern keys," said Freida. "They are of the domestic variety. Not the more complicated types for superior locks."

< keys unlock doors here? > signed Belali, looking quizzical. She had, perhaps, the same thought as I, that this woman was an ex-employee of Durishaus. If the keys opened common locks in this house it might help identify who this person was.

I translated and Freida handed them over. The Chief looked impressed.

"Belali," Freida said. "What a good idea. Would you like to take them and test them out?"

Belali left us, she had a determined look on her face. I had no doubt if they matched a lock then she would find it.

The sawing continued and then we had to start supporting the body as the craftsman dealt with the last piece of wood. We held her with great care, not only to show respect, but also to preserve any information we might gather. Then she was free and we moved to bring her out, but she wouldn't budge. She remained in place. Something around the middle of her torso was holding her back.

"Hold her," I said to my companions. "I will try to see what has happened."

I wriggled into a position where I could see her lower back and I was astonished to observe that the body was impaled on the edge of a flat piece of wood. The effect was as if she had been pushed onto an axe head. The wood was deeply embedded in her back, as if she had been pressed back onto it with great strength. I had only seen an injury like this once before. A body that Victor had stolen had a similar wound in its back. He said the man had fallen from the roof of a building onto a sharp tool.

"I need to push the torso forwards," I explained. "Hold still."

I put my hand onto the woman's back just above the wooden slab, and pushed with care. It took all my strength. After a moment she started to move and then, suddenly, she was free. We lay her down.

Belali returned with a linen bedsheet. The keys now rattling on her belt.

< you need this > she signed, dropping the sheet next to the body. Then she left to seek out more locks to try with her new keys. We shrouded the body and I left Freida, the Chief, and the taxidermist to move it to the police department in the Town Hall. We made an agreement that we would examine the body tomorrow morning, the light was already starting to fade and such work cannot be conducted in gloom. I bade them farewell and headed for my brother's study.

Helena's Diary

My plan to help Belali have some pleasuring, of which she was in sore need, worked well. I had a long talk with her about it, and told her that Damion was a kind man. If she told him to go ahead then he would help her. And she could trust him to stop if she could not do it.

I remembered what it was like when I lost my sweetheart and husband. He died in a battle with the Turks, far from my arms. How sad I felt and then, later, how frustrating it was that I could no longer touch, and be touched, by a man when I needed it. I was lucky that I met Damion and, very soon after I started working for him as his housekeeper, I raised the courage to tell him what I needed. It was a request that was not without some risk. I was two years older than him, a widow, and very much his social inferior. There was the possibility that he would simply laugh in my face and tell me off for my presumption. But I had spent months with him, I thought I judged him right. And so it proved. He and I pleasured and he never once boasted of it to his friends, or took me for granted.

Last night he did pleasure Belali and all went well, though I was alarmed when she left his bed before he woke up. I almost accused him of upsetting her, which was wrong of me. I must talk to her about how to approach Damion when the need comes upon her again.

This afternoon I went to meet with Sophie. Damion goes all doe eyed and lovelorn when he talks of her. He thinks I do not notice. She is his equal in society but hampered by a promise to the church to slay a werewolf before she marries. I think he would like her as his wife but I'm fairly sure she doesn't want him for her husband. She has spent too many years in the wilderness in pursuit of her prey to settle down to the life of a doctor's wife. A life that would be my idea of heaven, provided the doctor was Damion. No, she would be better fitted if she could find an adventurer to share her life. One who could go with her on her quests to raid tombs, or whatever it is that adventurers do.

I met Sophie in the tavern where she has taken rooms and despite the way that some local men looked at us, two unaccompanied women taking a drink together, we brazened it out and had a good conversation. She was part of the search parties when Victor Frankenstein's servant, Fritz, was murdered, and has kept an interest in pursuing the monster ever since. I will try to remember her words and record them the way Damion does in his journal.

"I came to the windmill late in the night," she explained. "The mob had mostly dispersed, there was just one old woman staring at the mill in disapproval. She seemed determined to watch until the last flame died. The Chief of Police had also left a couple of soldiers behind to prevent foolish people from seeking souvenirs of the monster's destruction. So there were just the four of us."

"The flames had burned down, no longer filling the night sky. Just a few flames from old, tar soaked, timbers. As I approached there was a tall jet of flame that roared upwards, startling the watching three. The soldiers backed off but the old woman merely cackled like a witch and claimed it was the monster's guts burning. I was not so sure, more likely it was a jar of lamp oil exploding."

"There was nothing more I could do that night so I returned the next afternoon, hoping the flames would have died down enough to make a better examination of the ruin. Monsters are tough and have a nasty habit of surviving. Many a chronicler has been forced to admit that the story they published is not the end of the tale."

I looked at her with alarm I have to admit. There were certain monsters that I wished would not rise again to haunt me. Damion's father, for one, who had sworn to enslave him, and kill me in the most horrible way. The idea that he might return from his grave in the mountains was very frightening.

"Oh sorry Helena," she said. "I'm sure you and Damion will be safe. I just meant that vampires can return even when reduced to ash, and other creatures may appear to be defeated but return to take their revenge."

This didn't help me at all. I was now convinced more than ever that Kurt might return to take revenge on my love and I. Sophie pushed on with her story, there was nothing else we could do, but I felt a chill and resolved to stay vigilant. Returning monsters would not creep up on me.

"When I arrived I found that the windmill was sufficiently cool to allow me to explore. I circled it first, then stepped into the ruin, using a walking stick to test for weak flooring before I placed my foot upon the ground. The foundations of the mill were made of stone and a wooden floor had been placed at ground level. There was little of the wood remaining. What had not been charred by the flames had been splintered by the mill stones. I could see that there was a cellar below, stone lined. If the monster had died then it's corpse was to be found down there."

I was impressed by Sophie's courage. I would have been fearful of entering that ruin. What if it had decided to collapse at that moment?

"There were some stone steps down to the cellar and I made my way down. They were untouched by the flames and secure. From the final step I could view the cellar and I looked for a body. There was none that I could see. I took the risk of walking on the stone slabs of the cellar to view it from all angles. The tilted grind stones blocked part of it but I was confident they did not hide a body. However one of them had revealed a secret."

This was exciting and I could see why Sophie enjoyed her work. It was risky, she could die, but when investigating she was more alive than most of us would ever be. When she talked about taking the risk her eyes sparkled and I could see why my beloved Damion desired her so. In that moment I desired her too.

"The heavy millstone had struck the slabs on the floor of the cellar and destroyed two of them. Others around it were tilted downwards into what had to be a space under the cellar. I heard the murmuring of water. Perhaps the mill had been built over a natural spring. Water meant that a monster, on fire, might have been quenched if it fell down as far. And water would sustain life."

I asked Sophie why she had waited so long to tell us this, and why she did not descend immediately. Many weeks had gone by since the fire at the mill.

"Getting down there safely," she explained. "And, more importantly, getting out again, needed equipment that was stored at our castle. I have been absent collecting it, and working out the best way to set it up. It is a ladder made from iron links that will allow us to descend. And, if there are obstacles, it will twist to avoid them the way a wooden ladder would not. But I am ready now, we can go tomorrow afternoon - if that suits you and Damion."

I was pleased that I would not have to climb down a rope and assured her that I would tell Damion of the plan when he returned home. We kissed and parted. We are to be at the mill tomorrow when the sun is at its highest. Dressed for adventure!

Damion's Journal

To find my brother I went to his office. Known in the house as the Estate Office it was smaller than the Red Room, my father's domain. Neither Karl or I wanted to use the Red Room for it held too many bad memories. The Estate Office was comfortable and better suited to work without the distraction of deadly weapons of war.

"Ah Damion," my brother said, rising from his desk. "You must excuse me for a few minutes for I need to collect some papers from father's study. Our Lawyer and I have been working our way through them." He moved past me and gestured at a chair. When I returned from Engolstadt he was an angry man who would take every opportunity to shoulder me aside, now he moved past me calmly and patted my back in friendship.

I sat down near our Lawyer and inclined my head in greeting.

"Does Karl know you are a vampire?" I asked, shaking his pale, cold, infinitely strong hand.

"No," replied the undead. "And I would prefer to keep it that way. There are few men who would voluntarily shake the hand of one of my kind."

"Then your secret," I continued. "Is safe with me. I wanted to thank you for the purchase of the cottage for Alicia and her new ward, Monifa."

"Old gold," he replied. "Of little consequence. I can find more."

In this he was probably right. Local legends say that hidden hoards of gold are marked by pale supernatural lights on All Hallows Eve. He was one of the few around Carlsbruck who would dare to go out on that dreadful night to mark the location of a hoard for later retrieval.

"Nonetheless," I said. "It was a good act. Thank you."

His face twisted when I said good act, as if to be accused of doing something good was painful to him. He thought for a moment then said, "Do you perform house visits to what most would consider an abode of evil?"

"If," I answered. "By that you mean would I visit your castle? Then the answer is that I would consider it. For what purpose?"

"My other... bride... er companion," he thought twice of the traditional appellation. "She is.. I think... unwell. Her behaviour has changed and has become quite unacceptable. Would you view her and give me the benefit of your opinion."

I wondered what on earth she was doing that a Lord of Darkness might consider so awful as to be 'unacceptable' but my brother might return any moment, there was no time to enquire. I must have looked a bit dubious for he raised his hands palms outward, in a gesture of peace, and continued, "I promise you safe passage, and you may bring Alicia with you if you feel you have need of protection. I know she would not allow any harm to come to you. Will you come, Herr Doktor?"

"I have a number of other appointments to keep but, in a few days, I think I can manage it." We shook hands on the agreement, his cold bony hand in my warm one, and I realised that I had crossed some sort of line over the last few months, I was now giving regular consultations to creatures whom the rest of the world would have considered monsters.

At this point my brother returned with arms full of documents. It looked like he and the Lawyer were working their way through my Father's papers. As he dropped them on the table the ancient map of Frankengeld properties, the original from which Monifa had made a copy, fell out onto the floor. I bent to pick it up.

"I thought you could have that, Damion," said my brother. "You were always more interested in history than I and I thought it might, framed, make an interesting talking point for your patients."

I thanked him and slipped it into my bag.

"Now we have some decisions to make about the estate. If you don't mind I will lead."

I nodded, happy for him to run the meeting.

"The Red Room," Karl started. "With your agreement, Damion, I thought we might clear it of all the weapons of war."

The Lawyer spoke up, "The town council have decided to utilise the one remaining tower in the city walls as a museum to Carlsbruck history."

"I thought," continued Karl. "That we could donate much of the contents of that room to the town, to form the core of their collection."

My heart rose at this. Doubtless Karl was trying to rid himself of the dreadful memories of the night when his mother and his wife were murdered. It was a good move and I wholeheartedly agreed with the idea.

"I wholeheartedly agree," I said. "I have always hated the regalia of war, the evil weapons, and the... other things."

I had been about to say the instruments of torture and execution, but stayed my tongue. Karl knew very well what was in that room.

"Then that is agreed and we will proceed with the arrangements. The second thing, our income."

He reached into a large drawer in the desk and pulled out a large leather bag.

"There are ten thousand golden staters here," he grinned. "Your share of father's hoard that he failed to collect before he fled. I feel you should have them, perhaps you can use them to develop your medical practice, employ more staff, buy more medicines, whatever it is you do."

"That is most generous," I was astonished. This was a fortune. My brother had changed from angry, grumpy, almost vicious to a caring individual in a few weeks. The cure has certainly removed all trace of wolfwere from him. The only thing I regretted was that Gerda never got to see this side of her husband while she was still alive.

"We have a substantial income from rents," he continued. "This I did not know. We have reviewed the rental charges and they seem excessive. I have asked for a letter to be sent to our agent, another person of whom I was ignorant. To order this person to immediately reduce the rents by one quarter."

I had seen the evidence for our rental empire when I had broken into my father's desk, so I had to act as if this was new to me. I looked suitably surprised.

"My intention is to use the profits from these rents to improve our farms. To make them more productive, and to make the lives of our farm workers more comfortable."

I could not argue with him. Better to improve the daily lives of local people than to do as our father did, and hoard the money. Then I saw Karl was looking sad.

"But," he said, with deep emotion in his voice. "If you do not object. I intend to use some of the reserves our father left behind to build a mausoleum to Gerda. She was a devoted wife and... and... and I cannot explain why I was so cruel to her. It was as if a madness was upon me. It is a poor recompense for what I put her through but I have asked for an architect to be consulted on the design. It will be beautiful."

The Lawyer spoke up, "I know of one in Engolstadt that might take the commission. We will make a suitable memorial to your wife, sir."

Well, I thought, if our Lawyer can't judge a good mausoleum then who can? Clearly, despite seeing Gerda in 'dreams', Karl does believe she is dead. I wonder what she will make of a new home to house her coffin.

Karl sniffed, used his kerchief to dab his eyes, and continued, "But, although I mourn for Gerda, I also have a responsibility to the next generation. I cannot leave it long before trying for an heir, I have therefore decided to get engaged."

"Engaged?" I asked. I was surprised at the speed but I suppose I shouldn't have been. Karl was a true aristocrat and, for our level of society, lineage is all. I wondered who his choice would be.

"I have invited Katy and her father, Matei, to visit," Karl said.

I was astonished. So that was why Katy was here at Durishaus. Only weeks after my father had killed her brothers. I must have looked shocked for Karl held up his hands to prevent me from objecting while he explained.

"I had wanted to apologise to Matei. He has accepted that I was not to blame for the death of his sons. He has overcome his revulsion of this house to protect his family, though he has asked not to have to visit the ballroom."

Understandable, I thought, that's where Costache and Bogdan were killed before their father's eyes.

"The alliance between our houses is now urgent for him as well. With the loss of his sons all inheritance passes through Katy. He wishes to see her provided for before he dies. I have agreed to woo her and, if she will have me, we will wed."

I could understand all this. Father had considered the alliance valuable enough to warrant a forced wedding. But how was my brother going to cope with a bride who has a child-mind?

"But first," said Karl. "I need you to do something for me. I need you to use your medical skills to cure Katy. I cannot take to my bed a woman who talks of rag dolls and lollipops, who sits and draws clumsy pictures with wax crayons. It would unman me. Her body looks fit for breeding but it cannot happen while her mind is like a child's."

So Karl, like me, could not cope. And I was being asked to do what Alienists had failed to achieve since she was fourteen. If more than six years of treatment from them had been ineffective, how was I going to do better?

"The mind is not my speciality," I reminded my brother, though he must know this.

"Please try, Damion," he replied. "For the sake of our family line. Her father has agreed to this condition of our marriage."

"I will try," I said. "Bring her to my consulting rooms in a few days, send a note in advance so I can prepare, and I will examine her. I need to do some reading first."

There were a few more legal items on the table for us to examine but I must admit I wasn't listening as Karl and our Lawyer worked their way through them. I was to attempt to cure the woman I had been forcibly engaged to. She didn't seem to remember the engagement, I had thrown away the ring she gave me, and she wasn't wearing the one my father made me put onto her plump finger, but the memory remained. The engagement was, hopefully, null and void but it was going to be strange to meet her as doctor and patient. But, I suppose, I owed Karl my best efforts.

I made my apologies and left them to their work. I wandered Durishaus looking for Belali, and couldn't find her. The corpse had gone and there was no sign of Freida and the Chief of Police, just the strange frame of the stuffed bear, and its skin put to one side. It looked like it was waiting for its skin to be restored. To give it some dignity in death. Then I remembered I had promised to ask Karl when the bear was first installed in the house. I told myself off for being so forgetful. I would have to send him a note, or ask someone else who had known about it.

That made me think, as I moved from room to room looking for Belali, of the taxidermist who worked on the bear in the first place. It was not the craftsman the Chief had employed, he was only a few years older than I, and would have been a child when it was stuffed. And it cannot have been a relative or he would have said something, like 'my father made this'. I wondered if we could find the individual involved. Then I saw how ridiculous that was. We would be asking him questions like, 'When you built the corpse into the body of the brown bear did you know who she was?' How could anybody do such a job and not understand that what they were doing was unlawful? Which led to the possibility that the taxidermist was the murderer and had chosen this method to hide the body. In which case they would probably be a long way away from their crime by now.

I had to abandon these thoughts when I had checked every room in the mansion. Unless Belali was hiding in a cupboard or under a bed it was clear she wasn't in the building. Perhaps she had gone to try the keys in the servants quarters. That would be logical, she was a very conscientious worker, not inclined to skimp on a task. I left Durishaus itself and walked across the courtyard to the low, neighbouring, building. To the right of the strong door, designed to keep the Frankengeld family out, was the kitchen and I leaned in.

Cook was preparing tea, a delicious smell came from the oven.

"Have you seen Belali?" I asked.

Cook curtseyed, "Bruno has taken her to his room." She looked apprehensive, and would not meet my gaze. I got a bad feeling.

"Thank you," I replied and hurried along the corridor. There was the sounds of a struggle. I burst into Bruno's room. He might be king here amongst the servants but I was his superior, and family, he could not deny me entrance.

Belali was sat on an ottoman chest, her back to the wall, one hand was on Bruno's chest and with the other she signed, < no no no no >.

Bruno's trousers were around his ankles and his phallus was erect. Belali's knickers were torn to shreds. He was jabbing at the young black woman's exposed quim with his member, trying to enter her. Her face was screwed up in determination to resist him but her strength did not equal his, sooner or later his will would prevail and coitus would occur.

"Stop Bruno!" I shouted. "Stop now!"

To be continued...