It’s a WIP!: An excerpt from Arlington Creed and the Case of the Marinated Mariner.
January 29, 2018 Leave a comment
It’s been a while since I posted any of my Steampunk. This scene is from chapter two; Arlington has gone back to the crime scene when a guest arrives and brings some rather interesting news.
***
The sound of a horse-drawn carriage echoed through the woods. Creed glared hard at the driver and passenger as they came closer. This was all he needed. Spectators walking through his crime scene.
The buggy stopped just short of their carriage and the young male passenger hastily jumped down. He looked no older than early twenties and his clothing hung awkwardly as though it didn’t properly fit. He pulled a large black bag from the carriage and gently swung it over his shoulder.
Creed threw down his glove on the small table. “What the devil is this nonsense?”
The young man gave a wide smile as he walked toward the men. “Detective Creed, I presume.”
“And who might you be?”
The young man held out his hand. “Daniel Harriden of the Department of Unusual and Dubious Events.”
Creed eyed him carefully. “I’ve never heard of it.”
Harriden seemed out of sorts and he retracted his hand. “I’m not surprised. It’s part of a new branch of the Government. Her Highness, Queen Victoria, has decreed that all commonwealth countries establish their own branch of D.U.D.E., to better protect the Empire.”
Creed exhaled deeply. “And what exactly does this department of unusual and doubtful-“
“Dubious,” Harriden corrected.
Creed nodded. “My apologies, this department of unusual and dubious events want with me?”
The young man looked surprised. “Did you not get the telegram from Chief Inspector Patterson?”
Creed frowned. “No.”
“Oh, well my superiors at D.U.D.E have gone over the original report filed in Montreal and determined that this drowning warrants an investigation from our department, and that you are to assist in any means possible.”
Creed took a sip from his glass. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” He carefully put down his large bag and rummaged through the various pockets in his jacket. “I have the telegram here from Her Majesty, affirming your new appointment.” He brought out a crinkled telegraph from the inside breast pocket and handed it to Creed. “We report only to Queen Victoria herself.” A look of embarrassment appeared on his face. “I mean, my superiors report to Her Majesty. I don’t ever speak with her. Ever.”
Creed read over the telegram. It looked real enough and like most telegrams he’d read. The emblem of the office of Queen Victoria was prominent in the top center of the letter. He handed it back to Harriden. “So I am to assume we are working together for the foreseeable future?”
Harriden nodded, taking the paper and stuffing it back into his breast pocket. “It is my pleasure to inform you that as of this date, September nineteenth, eighteen-hundred and sixty, you and I shall be working together as a team.”
“Lovely.” Degan’s dry tone made Creed smile.
Creed let out an exasperated sigh. “Well then, Mr. Harriden, if Her Royal Highness has bequeathed that we become a team, then who am I to argue?”
Harriden nodded and smiled. “Good. Glad to see you’re in good spirits about this.”
Creed stabbed at his food. “Why wouldn’t I be? Nothing wrong with having someone younger to do all the heavy work.”
Harriden scanned the woods around him. “I would be all too happy to carry on your investigation while you eat.”
Creed nodded. “Thank you.”
“Now, if you don’t mind catching me up on our case.”
The detective wiped the corner of his mouth with a linen napkin. “Nothing really to it. A body washed up on shore several days ago and I-” He caught himself. “We are now left to investigate.”
“Any clues?”
“None that I’ve found, but we have a meeting with the local coroner later today. He might give us something more to investigate.”
“Splendid. In the meantime where should I begin?”
Creed made a thoughtful gesture. “I’m thinking…the lake.”
Harriden looked out over the water. “The whole lake?”
“If you prefer, but I would start where the body was found.” Creed pointed to a patch of long, flat grass along the shore. “He washed up over there in the bulrushes.”
Harriden nodded and carefully made his way down to the shoreline with his black bag. Creed eyed him suspiciously and his doubt returned. Was Chief Constable Patterson trying to removing him from the constabulary because of his injuries?
“Perhaps they recognize your knowledge and experience and wish to incorporate it into this new endeavour?”
Creed looked up at his butler. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve seen that look before.” Degan removed the empty plate. “You’re suspicious of this decision from your superiors. Am I correct?”
“Am I that transparent?”
“Only with me, sir.”