The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl: From the Peculiar Adventures of John Loveheart, Esq., Volume 2

“Please continue,” I say to her.

 

“A few months ago, we met up on the marshlands again. He invited me to take tea with him at his home. He said the local vicar would be there, as they would be discussing an archaeological dig to take place on the marshes. He went into some depth about the burial mound of an Anglo Saxon king. Apparently artefacts had been discovered which had caused some excitement amongst both the locals and an expert from the British Museum. I accepted his invitation and walked back with him to his house.”

 

She suddenly goes very quiet. Detective White passes her a cup of tea. She removes her veil, revealing her face, which is ghostly white. Around her neck is a thick black choker with an ivory cameo. She sips some of the tea, her hands shaking.

 

“What happened, Miss Summerfly?” I ask.

 

 

 

“When I was inside his house he hit me across the face and I must have become unconscious. When I woke up I was in a small cage in a cellar.”

 

 

 

Walnut steps back into the room, “I’ve found some hobnobs,” and places them on the table.

 

 

 

Detective White stares at him rather seriously and he slips quietly out of the room.

 

 

 

“After a while two men came. They made me drink something sweet. It made me feel sleepy. A bag was put over my head and I was dragged into a carriage and we travelled for several hours. When the carriage finally stopped I was dragged out and I heard a man say the word butterfly. They took me into a building and put me into another cage. The bag was taken off my head.”

 

“What did you see?”

 

“Other women in cages. We were in some sort of underground cellar. Stone walls; it was very dark, a few candles burning. The ceiling had… The ceiling.” She bursts into tears.

 

“What about the ceiling?” I persist.

 

“It had blood dripping from it,” she sobs. “I was so frightened but I couldn’t shout out, the drug… the words… No noise came from my mouth. I tried to speak to the other women. I couldn’t.”

 

“How many other woman were there?”

 

“Maybe ten, maybe more.”

 

“What happened next?”

 

“The drug was beginning to wear off. Men came in and started opening the cages and dragging the women out. My cage was opened but before I was pulled out there was a terrible screaming, a woman started attacking one of the men, punching and kicking him. I took a chance. I ran as fast as I could, past the cages and up some stairs. I could hear them behind me. There were so many corridors, so many doors, all locked. I just kept running until I came to a door I was able to open which I burst through into the light. There were lots of men smoking and drinking and laughing. It looked like a formal club of some sort. I saw Ignatius smoking a cigar. He was just staring at me. I think he was amused. My only thought was of survival. I saw a great window on the other side of the room and I ran towards it and threw myself through it. I fell a great height into dark water. Into the Thames.”

 

The tea cup trembled in her hands

 

“I thought I was going to die. I woke up washed up on the shoreline near a boatyard. I have been in hiding in lodgings in London ever since. I had been too frightened to come to you and then I saw the pictures of the women in the Times and I thought about all those women I left behind. God knows what happened to them.” She bends her head very low.

 

“You are a very brave woman, Miss Summerfly, and you are under our protection now. The building you were held captive in by the Thames, do you remember anything about it? Could you find it again?”

 

“I… I remember very little.”

 

“Anything, even the smallest detail may prove significant.”

 

“Only the smell. Like a slaughterhouse,” and she held her hand to her mouth, trembling. “Those poor women, you must find them… I… wait. I remember, when I was in the cage, the men had a symbol, a tattoo on their hands. A black butterfly.”

 

Miss Summerfly is escorted back to her lodgings by Constable Walnut and placed under police protection. I have advised her to leave London, to stay with her relatives by the sea until this investigation is complete and those responsible arrested. Professor Hummingbird’s wedding will be taking place tomorrow morning and I intend to intercept the nuptials. Detective White will travel to Kent to investigate the kidnapping.

 

 

 

 

 

BUTTERFLY

 

everything is cracking

 

splintering

 

being

 

d

 

e

 

s t

 

r

 

o y

 

e

 

d

 

 

 

 

 

Romney Marshes, England, 1865

 

Mr Angelcakes and Mr Hummingbird

 

 

 

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