Beautiful Freaks (19 page)

‘
But the burnt man
;
h
ow did that fit with the rest of it?
’

He
regretted
having spoken out his thoughts
but
now
it was too late
to take them back
.
He tried to console himself with the notion that the links between the bodies were obvious but he
saw how the detective Steptree watched him.

’
How could he possibly know?
’

“Know what?” asked Steptree.

Kaspian startled and then blushed. He had not meant to speak his thoughts and now
that
he had, Steptree pounced on them. Kaspian’s mind
spun
and he found himself stuttering, stalling for time and trying to find a believable lie but nothing came. Fortunately
,
Heartlock and Chester set about talking details of the crime scenes and the moment was forgotten – except by Steptree.

“So who,
or what do you think we’re dealing with here,
Prof
?”

“Hmm, it’s hard to say exactly but I have an instinct we’re not talking about an individual here.”

“You mean there’s a team doing this? Something occult?”
Chester asked.

“Occult definitely, but not in the way
you a
re thinking. We’re not talking devilry here,” Heartlock said.

“There are certainly three different killers here,” added Steptree. “Each death is unique and seems almost
personal; almost like a
signature.”

“But we’re not talking human here are we?” Chester asked.

“No, we are not,”
Heartlock
replied.

Steptree paused, thinking on the business card
that
nestled next to his chest, before
looking directly at Kaspian and
saying, “Indeed. One might
almost
say it’s freakish.
”

Kaspian’s eyes snapped onto Steptree
’s. He
was too late to stop the look of suspicious surprise that crossed his face.

13

ADDICTION

Ka
spian could barely breathe. Ti
ghtness fixed
in
his chest and refused to leave
,
no matter how he tried to calm himself. After they had left the morgue, he spent the rest of the afternoon pacing up and down the study, picking up book after book only to put them back down again untouched. Every time he allowed himself to be still, images – beaut
iful, haunting, stirring images – drifted
into his mind. A
licia, with her pale silver hair and
her movements as light as snow, twirling and drifting.
Sylvan
i
a
, with her peach-
warm skin and dark crimson wings – transparent and deep all at once
.
And t
hen the
re was the girl with the monocle.

E
ve.

Every time he closed his eyes for longer than a blink, her face came to him and
it was a longing so full and deep, it burned.

He’d been
waiting
for Hugh to call on him
with a
desperate
anticipation,
but four nights had passed and he had not shown.
Kaspian had contemplated going back
to No. 7 by
himself
;
fantasised how he would leave the house like the man he now was
,
and just walk through those streets of wonderment and pleasure
.
B
ut he knew that
in truth,
he would probably end up
robbed,
knifed or worse
,
and
left
in a stinking gutter
.
Hell was no
place to venture
into alone – no matter how sweet the rewards. S
o he waited.

Then he came.

Not by the front door, but out on the lawn, throwing stones up at Kaspian
’s window. Clearly he was drunk. A
bottle of champagne swayed perilously from his right hand. When Kaspian saw him he couldn’t help but smile. Hugh was dancing on the spot to a silent orchestra.

“Coming out to play, Kashpian?” he slurred.

“Ssh, you’ll wake the old man.”

Hugh raised a finger to his lips and produced a dramatic, “ssshhhhhh!” before descending into a fit of giggles.

“Be quiet will you. I’m coming. Just stand still.”

Kaspian’s heart pounded
with exc
itement. He made a quick change, gathered his hat and cane and walked, with almost a
skip
,
out into the cool
,
late autumn air.

Hugh had taken a seat in one of the wicker garden chairs and seemed to have calmed
down a little, although his manic energy still poured out through his jigging leg.

“Ready?” Kaspian asked.

H
ugh
handed Kaspian the bottle of champagne
, which he took. He drained the bottle, tossing
it into the shrubbery
,
which set Hugh giggling again.
Somehow they made it into the Haymarket without finding trouble, although in truth that was exactly what Kaspian was hoping for.

Eventually they m
ade it to the black door of No.
7: Evangeline’s. Many times in the last few nights
,
Kaspian had dreamt of entering this door to discover a myriad of dreamscapes. Always at the heart of it was Eve
; a serpent wrapped around her body and a shiny red apple in her hand.

On their journey Kaspian quizzed Hugh
on
the girls that worked at No.
7
but it was clear Hugh
only
had eye
s for Alicia. He’
d paid little
more than a passing
at
tention to the others
.

“She’s totally enchanting, don’t you think, Kaspian?” Hugh didn’t wait for an answer. “The way she moves that body of hers as if it were made of liquid
,
t
he look in her eye at the end of her dance – begging to be rescued from all the
cold and ice, begging
to be set on
…
fire.”
He accompanied the last word with a humorous and dramatic flourish of his hands, but the image brought little laughter to Kaspian’s lips. His thoughts had
drifted
to
the burnt man at the morgue.
‘How is that possible, for the body to burn and not the clothes?’
There was no logical answer, nor even an imaginative possibility as far as Kaspian could think.

Evangeline’s was just as busy as the last time, despite it being midweek. Champagne flowed
as if it were
tap water and the la
rge silver platters of seafood
and blood-dripping
beef endlessly appear
ed
.

“The show doesn’t start ‘til midnight so we may as well dine first,” Hugh said as he wove his way through the cramped
,
tiny tables.

Kaspian positioned himself so he could see through the
room’s
archway
that led
out into t
he hall. He was watching for Eve.
Hugh did
n’t
seem
to notice
his companion’s distract
ed attention
and picked up the menu, rea
ding out exotic sounding dishes
one after the ot
her. Kaspian did not hear them.

“Order whatever
you please,
”
Kaspian said with no real desire to eat.

“Not hungry, de
ar boy?
”

“No,
not really; o
rder some platters and
we’ll
share from them.”

“You’ll be telling me next
that
you’re not thirsty.”

“Oh,
I’m thirsty – more than you can possibly imagine.” Kaspian smiled a tight, almost flirtatious smile and Hugh responded by dramatically calling over a waitress and ordering their ‘very best champagne
.’

When the food ar
rived, Kaspian was pleased he’
d left the ordering to Hugh
. He’d ordered
well; a platter of pa
r
trid
ges dripped
with
rich brandy sauce, slices of rare beef
served with horseradish, and bone marrow piled high with a fresh
parsley sauce
on
French toast. As Kaspian looked around and saw the candlelight sparkling in the rich gilt mirrors, heard the sound of the string quartet drifting through the crowd
,
and smelt the rich, delicious food, he
truly
be
lieved that he’
d found Heaven on Earth.

Hugh picked up one of the small
,
roast birds and sank his teeth in, pulling away the flesh and releasing a small trickle of dark brown juice down his chin. There was something so deliciously barbaric in the action that Kaspian found himself entering a
darkening pleasure
,
a feeling
somewhere between
beauty and horror.

Kaspian
stabbed at a piece of
beef and watched the blood drip
as he forked it towards his mouth. The taste was deep and coppery, the flesh soft and silky. It was as he was tearing it between his perfect
,
pearled teeth that he saw her walking through the hall; her chin high, her back straight
,
and her large black skirts giving the impression that she was almost floating. As she passed the doorway
,
she turned and for one brief seco
nd she faltered as if she had recognised him.  Kaspian stopped mid chew and his fork hovered
in the air. It was only the cool dribble of blood down his chin that snapped him back into focus.

“Alright?” Hugh asked between
loud, indulgent
sucks on a marrowbone.

“Yes, fine
,”
Kaspian
replied. “I j
ust
thought I
saw someone I
know
.”

“Oh, dash embarrassing when that happens. Just remember the other chap is probably married and doesn’t want to be seen any more than you do.”

“Yes. Right!
” Kaspian finished
chewing the
rest of his
mouthful
but his appetite had disappeared. Irrationally he felt the impulse to get up from the table and follow her, but this action was probably most likely to get him thrown out.

A clock
chimed the midnight hour and the hostess
made
her call. Hugh stood, wiped his mouth before throwi
ng his napkin down, and beckoned
Kaspian to move to
wards
the theatre. At the curtain
,
the young
and
pretty hostess, with lipstick far too red to be ladylike
,
smiled and
commanded,
“Gentlemen, your tickets please.”

Kaspian had a moment of panic
. W
ithout the tickets they would have come so far only to be turned away at the very last moment. Hugh
didn’t seem
to understand her request at first, but then let out a
,
“
Ah
, yes!” before patting down th
e pockets of his frock-
coat and at last retrieving two golden pieces of paper.
An
American paperclip
held a substantial amount of money notes to the back of the tickets. Kaspian estimated there to be about ten pounds attached to each, the same amount as a substantial diamond ring. Clearly Eve’s was an extravagant habit.

They took their seats and Hugh lit a cigarette. The blue smoke created a misty veil between Kaspian’s eyes and the scenes in front of him. Neither Alicia
n
or Sylvani
a lost any of their attraction on second viewing
.
Kaspian sat as transfixed as he had on the first night
,
but their performances where tainted by the anticipation of watching the unknown scenes to come.