Franengeld

Previously in Frankengeld. Damion escaped from Durishaus with Monifa's assistance, not forgetting the cat Miit. They return to number 34 and are seen together. Monifa has met Damion's staff and Alicia and they have discovered she is a sorceress. After persuading Helena not to march up to Durishaus with a knife to challenge Damion's Mother and Father they chat and retire to bed, only for Damion to have a terrible dream in which his forced marriage was not foiled.

Now read on...

26th June in the year 1784, very early in the morning.

The ringing of the bell was followed swiftly by the pounding of a fist on the door, and then the bell rang again. I rose, pulled on a dressing gown, and went down to find out who was there.

The drunkard Doctor Hoffer perhaps? Returned to once again tell me to leave Carlsbruck. I had no desire to face him but I couldn't refuse to open the door to what might just as well be a patient in great need. I did, however, take the precaution of looking through the peep hole to see who stood on the step before I unlocked the door. Faintly lit by starlight I could see a military man, by his insignia one of the officers working for the Chief of Police. He looked very stern faced. Was he here to arrest me for my experiments? They could be deemed indecent by someone who didn't understand my purpose. Well, nothing to do about it, I had to open the door, or risk this man smashing his way in.

"Herr Doctor Frankengeld?" the officer enquired.

"Yes," I replied. "How may I serve you?"

"You must attend the Chief of Police," he said, in a tone that indicated he would brook no nonsense. At the bottom of the stairs a horse and trap waited, the driver sitting hunched over the reins, motionless.

"Is he ill?" I asked, hoping for more details that would help me understand if I should bring my medicine kit, an overnight bag, or simply stretch out my arms to have restraints applied.

"I regret to inform you that murder has been committed at Durishaus," said the officer. He looked closely at me, judging my reaction.

I was an open book, I stood aghast, "Murder! But who? When?"

"Best you come with me now, Herr Doctor," said the officer. "The Chief needs your medical expertise at the scene of crime."

So, he wasn't here to arrest me. I thought hard about what needed to be done. "Give me two minutes," I told him. "To dress and instruct my servants."

He nodded and stood alert for my return. I walked into the hall and into a gaggle of staff. Everyone was there, anxiously awaiting the news. I quickly explained the situation, then gave my orders.

"Helena," I said. "Take Yani for protection and go to Freida's house, if you please. Beg her to attend me at Durishaus. I fear we may need her investigative skills. And ask Madam Minna to inform Alicia that we may need her strength."

Helena and Yani fled to their rooms to dress.

"Monifa," I continued. "I need you to guard this house. In case some evil is targeting my family and comes here."

The little sorceress flexed her fingers and looked very proud to be asked to do this duty. "That I will do. And there's no need to bother the Madam Minna," she said. "I will tell Alicia now." She walked to the mirror and started to talk to her reflection. Fascinating, but I could not delay to observe her magic, and I saw Una looking anxious.

"Una," I said. "Please, stay here with Monifa and give her what aid you can. I do not want someone pointing the finger of blame at you, claiming that you are a disgruntled former servant, and have done this deed."

Una looked happy with this task. I ran upstairs, dressed, and collected my medical bag from the treatment room. Murder meant a death, but there might be others who needed my skills with the living. Finally I turned to the ever-patient Anya, "It is risky but your task, should you wish to accept it, is to go to Lord Scunthorpe and beg his attendance here. We may need his fighting skills."

Anya took the mace off the wall. "None will prevent me," she grinned.

Orders issued I opened the door and gestured to the officer.

"I am at your service," I said. "Lead on."

I thought Lord Philip's driving was too fast and furious, but he had nothing on the officer who took us to Durishaus in record time. He must have had special 'high speed' training. I hung onto the hand grips for dear life as we bowled along and bounced over ruts and potholes. We slid sideways as we entered the grounds and I swear the officer applied the handbrake to ease the cart around and achieve the manoeuvre. In a splatter of gravel we came to a halt at the front portico. The Chief of Police was waiting at the door, talking to Alicia.

"Herr Doctor," he said. "I regret having to bring you to the scene of dreadful murder. It may be painful but I need your skills that you admirably demonstrated upon the murdered girl."

I bowed deeply. Clearly there was to be no false arrest here, I was not suspected of this crime.

"Strangely," he continued. "The Countess here was walking in the vicinity and has offered her support."

He turned to enter and I leaned close to Alicia. Dreadful murder sounded very serious and I was reassured that she was by my side. If a murderer lurked still in Durishaus I had no doubt she could face him, or her, or it.

"Enter my house, Alicia," I whispered, granting her access over the threshold. "I am very pleased to see you."

"My honour, my friend," she replied. "You and your assistant were the first to trust me in four hundred years. I owe you for giving me my new, and rather interesting, life."

We passed through the grand doors and stood in the hallway. Then the Chief led us up the stairs. Only hours earlier I had fled this house, down these very stairs, to escape marriage and now I was back. I wondered what evidence was left of the orgy, and what had happened to my relatives. The house seemed empty, except for the occasional soldier guarding a room, but there had been dozens of my relatives in attendance. Where had they all gone?

As we climbed the grand staircase the Chief explained why we were here.

"My men were alerted," he said. "By the Abbot of Gelenberg Monastery. He stopped his coach in the market square to say that violence had broken out in Durishaus, and that he was taking your sister, Elodie, to a place of safety at his monastery."

I wondered how a Monastery might be a place of safety for a woman and then remembered that there was a Guest House beside it, where visitors could be accommodated.

"When my men arrived," the Chief continued. "They found that all the guests had departed in a hurry, in fact they passed coaches and traps fleeing the scene as they rode towards the house. When they came within the grounds they found the house doors wide open and the staff barricaded in their quarters."

You could rely on Bruno to protect his underlings, I thought, and this was perhaps the very reason why a separate building for the staff had been maintained for over a hundred years.

We had arrived now at the top of the first flight and here were discarded goblets and masks, the detritus of the orgy, cast aside in the retreat. I noted that one mask, that we passed close to, was stained with blood. There was a guard outside the Red Room, with a distinctly queasy expression on his face. He was young and, perhaps, had not seen the results of violence before. The Chief led us past him to the Ballroom. The reason for the guard's queasiness lay at his feet. There was a smear of blood on the floor that led from the Red Room to the Ballroom, or perhaps the other way. I could not tell, but I made sure I did not tread in it.

"The steward told my men that the violence started in the Ballroom, so this is where they started their investigation. What they saw made them send for me."

A guard on the door opened it for us and the Chief was about to step in when I put my hand on his shoulder.

"Stop sir, please," I said, politely, for I had laid hands on a senior official. "Let us look from the door. I have sent for a friend who has some skill in interpreting the clues at a crime scene."

"Oh yes," he looked at me with a wry expression. "Another useful friend?" He glanced at Alicia and smiled. "You seem to attract them. Is this person as... unusual... as the Countess?"

"My friend would advise," I continued, ignoring his question and hoping he would accept Freida when she arrived. "That we disturb the scene as little as possible. Let us look from here."

Alicia and I stood in the threshold. The ballroom was in chaos with overturned chairs and smears of blood on the floor. The Fucking Stocks had been pushed over, no mean feat for it was very heavy, but at least there were no naked women in it now.

Slumped against the dais at the northern end was Costache, and sprawled on his face in the middle of the dance floor was Bogdan. They were unmoving with no signs of life.

"They are dead," said Alicia, quietly. It was a statement, not a question. "I smell much blood, and gunpowder, and the odour of lust."

"Your nose is sensitive," said a voice behind us. We had forgotten that the Chief was still there.

"It is a talent," replied Alicia. "But I can claim no credit for effort. It seems to be in my nature."

There was a myriad of marks on the floor, smears of blood, and other substances. I could not make anything of them. At the end where the musicians had been were just scattered chairs, and the drinks table looked as if people had fought each other for access to the great silver punch bowl. The bowl itself was on the floor, dented badly. It'll cost quite a lot to repair that, I thought, having had to do the same with some of our own silverware.

"Sir," a voice behind us came crisp and clear. "There is a woman at the door who claims she is a Companion of The Doctor. I told her this was no place for a woman but she insisted I contact you."

"That will be Freida," I said to the Chief. "She will be most helpful, I assure you."

"Bring her here," said the Chief. The soldier saluted and trotted away down the corridor. In his haste he failed to avoid the smear of blood, slipped, then regained his balance. He continued more carefully thereafter. A few minutes later he returned with our logical friend. She was dressed in a long coat with a short cape about the shoulders. I could not shake off the feeling she should also be wearing some sort of hat, and smoking a pipe.

It was a matter of moments to bring her up to date with events. She took off her coat, gave it to her soldier escort, drew a magnifying lens from the pocket, and entered the ballroom. Her movements were almost balletic as she carefully placed her feet to avoid the marks and stains. She studied everything and even lay on the floor at one point to examine closely, with her lens, a scratch or pool of blood. Then she returned to us. She addressed the Chief.

"The altercation started at the drinks table," she began. "I found these." Freida held up two small phials. For a moment I feared they were my Elixir and Potion, stolen by Gerda. Then I felt an intense surge of relief. They were not mine.

Unless Gerda had concealed the evidence, and it was possible she was that cunning, she had not used the Elixir of Pleasure she had stolen on the guests and left the jam jar lying around. Much as they might have appreciated the effect on their orgiastic costume ball. And I had no doubt the men in the room would have appreciated a dose of Priapus Potion, the other thing she had taken. It would have given them erections that lasted for hours. Did Gerda know she was to spend the wedding bent over in the stocks, a woman for free use by any man in the room? Oh dear, I had now gone full circle and convinced myself that she had at least put the Priapus Potion in the punch bowl, to enhance her enjoyment of the event.

But, sticking to facts and not speculation, neither of these little vials was the eye dropper I had used. They were cheaper looking, more the sort of thing sold by a travelling charlatan. Perhaps, I thought, these were aimed at producing a similar effect to my Priapus Potion. There were many substances that claimed aphrodisiac effects. And now I thought about it I remembered Costache and Bogdan threatening to dose me with something to make me want to pleasure every woman in the ballroom. Probably these empty vials belonged to them. And, if I had not escaped, I might have had something like this forcibly poured down my throat and then gone on to lose control and humiliate myself.

"They are empty," Freida continued. "But they may have contained illicit drugs, perhaps purchased from an Ottoman trader. There are signs of a struggle around that area that spread across the room."

She indicated several marks and then waved her hand. "This man was, I believe the first to die." She was pointing at Bogdan's body. "He has been shot in the chest at close range. There is blood and flesh under his fingernails so he was probably grappling with someone at the time. There is a mark from a blunt instrument upon his left temple, so he was probably struck, by a right handed individual, to break his grip. Then, as he staggered back, he was shot. From very close range for there is much unburned black powder on him."

I remembered my Father's costume, the Pirate King with his brace of double-barrelled pistols. Was it him? And, if so, why would he take loaded pistols to my wedding party. Foolish me, I thought, he took them to intimidate me into marrying Katy. A gun in the back can make many a man take vows he did not believe.

"The individual who hit him was very tall," Freida continued to a fascinated audience. "For the dead man is of a good height, yet the blow was delivered from slightly above, signifying someone taller."

Freida showed us a chair near to where Costache lay. "This chair has a bullet embedded in it. And there is one in the wainscoting, here. I think that this man..." she indicated the poor Costache "... was trying to flee, ducked here, took shelter here behind this chair, and was finally shot here."

She took us through the last few moments of Costache's life with a coolness that was astonishing. The soldier who had sought to deny her entrance seemed unable to believe what he was hearing from the mouth of a young, middle class, lady.

"There is evidence of a general exodus from the room. I can see marks and trails that suggest both doors were used, and that people struggled at the thresholds. I believe the guests tried to flee the scene at this point. They had certainly gone by the time this blood trail was left."

She pointed at the trail under our feet, which she now examined in detail, all the way to the door of the Red Room, then returned.

"Why do you believe that?" asked the Chief.

"Because the only marks in the blood are those of your own men," Freida replied, looking down at her soldier escort, and pointing out the blood on his shoe. He had the decency to look embarrassed, and the Chief's admiration for Freida's skills grew, I believe.

"Where did the blood come from?" I asked.

"Not from our shot victims," replied Freida. "Their blood is generally undisturbed, though there is evidence that someone may have tried to help them. No, I believe some wine glasses were broken near that device." She indicated the Fucking Stocks and the shards of broken glass on the floor nearby. "And if there were people in the device at the time they may have cut their feet."

I nodded, "A deep cut in the sole of the foot can bleed copiously. It could account for all this." I waved my hand at the smear aware that it suggested a further question.

"That is strange," said Alicia. "Why would a guest be bare footed? Was it some sort of game?"

I recalled the scene when I was forcibly engaged to Kate. Mother, Elodie, Gerda, all stark naked and clamped in the device for the entertainment of the men, and some of the women. Bent over so their backs were level with the floor, their heads held back so their mouths sagged open, quims and arse holes on display, unable to prevent their pleasuring, at either end. I suppose it could be counted as a game, if your idea of a good game involved a certain amount of sadism. I decided to say nothing at this stage.

"I can detect four sets of prints here, three small and delicate, and one - the print of a man or a very robust woman," continued Freida. "They pass through this door."

We were now at the door to the Red Room.

"My men were unable to enter, and were loath to break it down," said the Chief. "But, with your permission, Doctor, we will get hammers and see what is within."

I was about to give them permission when Alicia spoke. "Perhaps I can open it," she smiled at us. "There might be a knack to it."

The Chief smiled back. I had seen that look many times. It said, foolish woman, how could you open what my men cannot?

Alicia put her hand on the door handle and turned it then, without any sign of effort, pushed it open. It was clear immediately that a chair had been wedged under the handle to prevent entry. With a screech like a banshee, as the chair legs scraped on the wooden floor, the door reluctantly complied with Alicia's desire for it to be open. The Chief cuffed his officer around the head. Not a hard blow. Just enough to say, you have embarrassed me in front of these civilians.

"Thank you my lady," he smiled at Alicia. "Now please step back while I check the room for dangers."

I wanted to say that the biggest danger was probably standing at his shoulder, but he would not have believed me.

He entered the room then swore, "By all that's holy. Ladies, do not enter here!"

It was too late, Alicia had slid into the room in a single swift sinuous movement, and she then made room for Freida to follow her. They both gasped as I entered the Red Room myself.

In novels I have read, the hero, when confronted with terrible things would cry out 'Oh the horror! The horror!' I had always thought this rather unrealistic but the scene before me made me understand that the novelist had hit some truth.

"Oh!" I cried. "What horror!"

What I saw, that made me cry out, was my brother. He had his back to the wall and had been pinned to the wooden panelling by a sword. The very cutlass I had seen my Father wearing yesterday. Someone had driven it through his body, on the left hand side, near the top of the lung, and with enough force to drive it deep into the wall.

Then, as I realised that nobody else was looking at Karl but upwards, I turned to look. Impaled on two of the Vlad Stakes were Mother and Gerda. The stake had passed through Mother, starting in her anus, and exiting by the shoulder. She had slid down the pole in her struggles and had been stopped only by the small crossbar which was designed to prevent a victim from moving all the way down until their feet touched the ground. Her head had sagged forward and she looked down at us with unseeing eyes, dead.

Gerda's situation was worse, if that was possible. The stake had been inserted into her vagina, and emerged from her mouth, pushing her head back so that she now stared up at the ceiling. In the same way as Mother she had slid down the pole a little and the crossbeam pressed hard against her quim. Both of them must have suffered terribly.

"The horror! The horror!" I cried and Alicia moved to turn me away from the dreadful sight, but not before I had seen Gerda's leg twitch.

"She is still alive!" I almost screamed it, then my training took command. "We must get her down," I instructed.

Clues were forgotten for a while. The Chief got two of his men to lower the pole and we gently removed Gerda from the stake and laid her on a blanket on the floor. Her arms clawed at us blindly as the appalling shaft was removed from her body, but she moved with such little strength that she did no harm to her rescuers. The Chief ordered her to be taken to a bedroom and tended, though everyone knew the situation was hopeless. Alicia came close and whispered to me.