The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part XV The First Case VIII

We ran into the alley way through the gate, which we had arranged to be left open. We could see the woman scramble over another wall and we ran to ensure she remained in view. We manage to keep her in sight through the unusually clear night, her apparently much reduced agility, and a little luck with our guesswork on those occasions where she drifted out of view.

We finally lost her in an area comprised of some splendid old properties where the large trees restricted our view and already limited light. There were now houses with lit rooms and little in the way of clues to determine whether the she-devil had simply passed through the area or had taken refuge in one of the buildings. It was then that I remembered Howell’s injury which he had fastidiously failed to mention during our pursuit. The scratches to his shoulder and arm were deep and I was certain he would bear them forever more, though I thought it best not to mention this. They would need to be cleaned and dressed soon. The exertion of the chase now lay heavily on Howell and his pains began to intensify so we reluctantly agreed to find our way back to an area we recognised and thenceforth to return to my lodgings for treatment and breakfast.

‘Howell’ I started, but my words were cut short by a finger to his lips. ‘James’ he whispered, ‘if you were a ragged beast of the type we just encountered, would you be more inclined to reside in a fine dwelling complete with servants,’ he paused, casting his good arm towards the houses around us. ‘or would you place yourself in a location such as this?’ He pointed to a large house opposite us which, unlike the ones we had walked past was set some way back from the street and had a distinctly unkempt appearance. Heavy shutters covered the windows, though as I followed the direction Howell was pointing I could see that a single large window was not shuttered and lay open, a curtain, grey in the poor light, flapped in and out of the opening.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part XIV The First Case VII

The woman hesitated briefly then hissed loudly, her attractive features changing instantly. Hers was the face of a demon, her contorted snarl exposed fangs like a wild beast, her face twisted in savagery. Howell fired a shot into the air but she barely seemed to notice. Now Sheraton Howell is a gentleman but he is also, thankfully, highly pragmatic. As she approached he fired once more into the ground at her feet, then seeing no hesitancy in her approach, he fired a single shot into her leg. Alas, this but slowed her down and seemed to simply anger her more. The beast swiped at Howell, knocking the gun from his hand and sending him staggering backwards.

It was then that I found myself running across the garden, sword cane drawn, almost unaware of my own actions. The devil woman was clawing at Howell’s injured arm and I swear it was if she was some predator about to make a meal. I sliced at the woman’s legs, just below the knees, and she screamed as if she was indeed a beast. She turned to face me as Howell grasped for his gun. Picking it up he fired directly into her back several times and I saw at least one of the bullets exit her chest. We could scarcely believe that she still stood, yet stand she did, her screams awful to recall. The ruckus had by now awakened the household and several police whistles could be heard nearby. The woman turned and fled, still able to clear the garden wall, but not without some struggle from the wounds inflicted. Howell, though injured, shouted ‘after her’. The door to the house opened and I shouted to the figure in the doorway, pointing to the fallen figure of the young girl lying on the grass. She had not been touched in the brawl and I suspected she had simply fainted.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part XIII The First Case VI

My senses were partly restored as the summerhouse door crashed open and Howell bounded outside. The woman hissed like a wild animal, stopping only momentarily before continuing her advance. Howell set himself between the girl and the woman. ‘What business have you here miss?’ he rather calmly stated.

‘La fille m’appartient’

I was taken aback by the woman’s words, not so much by their meaning, for I understood the content, but more by her tone. Her voice belied her appearance, it was rather chilling yet alluring in its way.
‘Not tonight mademoiselle!’ was Howell’s response.

The woman walked forwards, taking little heed of Howell’s words. As she approached, he put himself firmly in front of the girl, who still appeared to be unaware of any of this. The woman stopped a few yards from Howell and once more beckoned the child forward, her long fingers running into long fingernails. It was then that I realised I had not moved from the door of the summerhouse, almost bewitched by the strange woman. She stepped forward and Howell raised his arm; with a speed I would not have believed, the woman pushed Howell aside with such force that he fell a good five or six feet from where he had stood. He rolled over the damp grass and drew his favoured Enfield revolver.

‘I do strongly suggest you stop there mademoiselle. My apologies for the use of the weapon’.

The woman turned towards Howell as he rose from the ground, revolver still trained on her. She covered the distance seemingly in one sweeping movement and although Howell had time to shoot, he did not. The woman clawed at him like an alley cat; Howell stepped backwards, but not quickly enough as she caught his arm, tearing through his coat. I could see by his face she had connected with more than just material and as he raised his other arm to protect it, I could see dark patches appearing as the blood seeped from the wound.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part XII The First Case V

For three evenings we sat in a cold, draughty summerhouse, watching whilst absolutely nothing happened. The clear, moonlight nights we were experiencing (somewhat rare given the normal cloud and smog) made the nights even colder than normal. We almost determined against a fourth night, but found ourselves huddled in blankets once more, straining out eyes across the manicured lawn and well-kept borders even as we fought sleep. My eyes heavy, I was jostled awake by Howell who was pointing towards something moving across the lawn by the house. I looked to Howell and silently mouthed the words ‘the daughter’. Howell nodded. Attired in naught but a nightdress, the young girl flitted across the grass, eyes wide open yet her body moving as if asleep. Perhaps this was the somnambulism I had read about? I moved to stand up, intent on approaching the girl to cover her modesty (and there was a frightful chill in the air), but Howell grasped my arm, nodding to the rear of the garden.

In the moonlight stood a woman. She was barefooted, dressed in a tattered dress with long, unkempt hair. I had neither heard not seen her entering the garden. Something appalled me about the woman and I felt a chill deeper than could be accounted for by the night alone. As she walked towards the young girl she gestured, beckoning her forward with her long fingers. There was at once a sense of beauty and of horror, for the woman exuded a sense of savagery I had rarely encountered in my time with Howell, and never in a woman. I was transfixed.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part XI The First Case IV

The incident was most definitely worth investigating and at four o’ clock in the morning, Howell and I found ourselves clambering over the same low rooftops that the woman had reportedly been on. A number of timber shingles appeared to have been recently disturbed and a small piece of cloth was still attached to a tile nail. We later determined this to be a blue taffeta, a not inexpensive fabric, which was at odds with the ragged description the constables reported. We were, however, once more at a loss and no further forward in locating the missing girl or finding the mystery spring heeled woman, who seemed to be heavily involved. What did we know of this woman? We knew that she had considerable athletic ability, may be French or at least a native French speaker and possibly wore a once expensive, yet now tattered, dress. This was hardly evidence likely to lead to an imminent arrest, but it was a start.

The Gilliat daughter had been very distraught at the disappearance of her cousin and the death of her dog had been a further blow to her condition. Mrs Gilliat’s nerves were frayed by the events and they required some reassurance from ourselves and the police. The Gilliats had been questioned about the woman in blue but they knew nothing of her. Howell and I agreed that we would spend a few evenings in surveillance of the property, hidden away in their summerhouse, which afforded good view across the length of their substantial garden, taking in both the rear doors and the gate into the street beyond. The police could not apparently afford the manpower to join the venture, but as we feared their presence may have restricted any potential activity, this did not trouble us. We did decide to arm ourselves for the occasion, however.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part X The First Case III

The police had, of course, been called but no trace of the young woman could be found. It appeared that she had been ill for a number of weeks since arriving at the Gilliat’s several months previous, but had recovered enough for an evening’s walk. Clues were sparse as the girl knew no-one else and had largely not engaged with anyone other than the family since arriving.

Several weeks passed with no further developments up until the body of the family dog was found outside their summerhouse, an empty husk, bled dry from a viscous tear to the throat. We took this as a warning but could not see why, we were no closer to apprehending a suspect. It was, however, the poor animal’s corpse that was to lead us to our first real clue in the case. The police, though largely ineffectual in the case (as we had also been), had maintained a light presence in the vicinity of the residence as the family had political connections.

A young woman had been seen, apparently leaping down from the high boundary wall of the Gilliat property by a patrolling constable. He spotted the woman and called after her; she ignored him and he gave chase but she evaded him, evidently with some ease owing to her, and I quote ’bouncing around the alley like a great big bloody frog’. We were lead to believe that she was oddly adept at acrobatics and cleared a six foot high wall in a single leap. At the time we thought it preposterous. The constable had provided a reasonably good description of the woman, no doubt aided by the bright moon and clear skies we were experiencing (a rare occurrence I assure you). The woman appeared to be fair haired and unkempt, quite slight of build but certainly not short, apparently in her twenties. This on its own would have been of little use in our search were it not for an occurrence but an hour later. A constable some distance from the earlier scene had intervened in what he thought was a ‘bobtail heaving a cove’ (namely, a woman engaged in selling her services attempting to rob a ‘gentleman’). Now this is not an uncommon occurrence and it would never have come to our attention were it not for the fact that the constable had been hurled across the street by the woman with such force that his arm and several ribs had broken. He managed to regain sufficient composure to sound his whistle, bringing a nearby constable to his immediate aid. At this point the woman vanished into the night, apparently climbing directly up the side of a building to do so. Between them the constables provided a reasonable description and it was this that had caught Howell’s attention. The situation had clearly registered as unusual, even for policemen who had no doubt witnessed many peculiarities, so the description of her bounding ‘like Spring Heeled Jack himself’ in addition to a more general description, strongly suggested that this was the same woman confronted at the Gilliat’s home. One of the constables also stated that the woman had screamed something at him and although he did not understand it he believed it had been French that she had spoken.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part IX The First Case II

Perhaps by working through the sequence of events that we experienced on that fateful ‘First Case’ (in terms of our involvement with the vampire) we might identify some connection or clue as to what was currently going on? I still shuddered thinking about that night when we first saw for ourselves that such creatures as vampires truly existed, beyond the wit of science or the grace of God. But, our failure to revisit the events of that night were, as Howell was intimating, very likely hindering our ability to draw any satisfactory conclusions from that night.

I brought out my notes and we sat around the fireplace as the chill of the night set in.
‘It started with a visit from the distraught Mrs Gilliat did it not?’ I asked, as I could see Howell was already racing ahead in his mind.

‘That is correct James’. Her poorly niece had failed to return from an evening constitutional and her chaperone had been found in a state of confusion, entirely unaware of the proceeding hour. ‘What does that tell us?’
‘Well, our new friends have informed us that some of these creatures have the power to confound the senses and minds of others. We might assume that the one we encountered in this case had just such an ability’.
‘My summation also, James. Let us start from the beginning and dissect the events of that case’.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part VIII The First Case

Howell looked tired. His finely groomed moustache was, as always, finely groomed, yet several day's growth of stubble clung to his sharp face. He wore an old smoking jacket with a large scorch mark on the left breast where he had apparently placed a still lit pipe, concentrating on some matter that had shut out more rational thought. He was agitated and could not remain still. He had heard that the city's 'Premier' consulting detective (Europe's?) often took to scratching at a violin as an act of concentration, but Howell would, in his own words, 'be damned if he had the time to decipher tadpoles on a page just for the pleasure of recreating the sound of a rusty gate'. This would have, however, been preferable (at least in Whittle's mind) to Howell's preferred relaxation technique of throwing knives at a heavy wooden board that had replaced the mirror above the fireplace. In fairness his aim had improved as the cluster of nicks near the centre of the board suggested.

'James, I cannot help but think these events are connected. My recent trip to Amsterdam, for that is where I have been, simply reinforced the gravity of the situation we face." Howell stooped to pick up a cricket bag lying by a pail of coal, pulling out a stout wooden stake." Our new friends have provided us with a few new tools".

"That would have been damned useful in our, well, 'First Case' with those things" I added.

"Indeed it would have, James, indeed it would have." Howell paused, looking around for his pipe, "I have been thinking about that night. It may be useful to go over it again, after all, we have barely spoken of it."

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part VII A Name of No Small Means

It has been two days since the unusual occurrence at the coroner's inquest. I visited the park the girl had been found in, only to find that it was in the process of being dug over and replanted by the grounds keepers. Apparently there had been a complaint over its unkempt state, crime scene be damned! A generous donation towards the wellbeing of the foreman and his lads provided a name at the park authority.

After an hour or so of enquiries, the 'name' was tracked down, and  following a further display of generosity, the source of the complaint identified. The eyes of the individual so offended by the condition of the shrubbery belonged to an elderly Member of Parliament of no small means. I will share his name only privately until such times as the fog clears on this matter. It may be nothing at all, but I will certainly raise it when I meet with Howell this evening. It will be interesting just to find out where exactly he has been.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part VI An Unusual Occurrence II

Although I was aware that with my newly acquired insight into the matter I was looking for evidence of the Undead (as an acquaintance of Professor Van Helsing refers to them) everywhere, I could not help but consider that this was such an occasion. Howell would have no doubt immediately removed the body for further examination, throwing the officers a shilling to enjoy the hospitality of the venue (though this would have been barely enough for three pints of beer in that establishment). No such contempt for procedure could be shown by an appointed coroner, however, I must have the patience to await the conclusion of the inquest for the day. At least that was what I anticipated; mere minutes later, just as the inquest was about to commence, a number of policemen entered the premises, ushering everyone out.

Naturally I challenged their apparent leader, an inspector in civilian clothing named Barnes. He provided documentation declaring the inquest postponed until further notice and furthermore, the body was to be removed by his men. He spoke little and would not engage me in discussion of the matter. There was very little I could do in such circumstances, but I did accost the youngest of their number, one Constable Ferry, to ask where they were from (my work with Howell and in inquests leads me to know many police officials, by face, if not by name). 'Arcadia Branch' he replied, before a burly sergeant clipped him across the ear, ending any further conversation.

Notes have been made and passed to Howell. We are to meet on Friday to discuss the case further. 

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part V An Unusual Occurrence

I found myself at a coroner’s inquest early yesterday morning. There is nothing remotely unusual in such an event as it is a regular occurrence for a coroner. It was held in a rather splendid public house near Hyde Park, not a great distance from the location the victim was discovered in. I would not normally have covered this area, however, I was asked at a very late hour to step in for a colleague taken with sudden poor health. This is somewhat uncommon, but not unusual, despite the fact that the surgeon’s report was not made available until I arrived, giving one very little time to acquaint one’s self with the facts.

The scene was set for the inquest, with the body of the as yet unidentified girl laid out on a table in a side room, re-dressed in the garment she had been found in and covered until such times as the jurors were required to inspect the evidence. She had been found in the park, dressed only in night attire, with a deep and ugly cut across her throat. The girl was perhaps sixteen or seventeen with long dark hair and of slight build. Although her clothing (scant though it was) was of fine quality, her hands, feet and marks about her face suggested a life of hardship, pointing to a girl of little means.

I had mere moments to scan the body. The cause of death was attributed to that deep cut across the throat of the girl, surely made by a person of some strength and with a blade of no small size. Several aspects of the case stood out, however:

i) The laceration to the throat had also caught the neckline of the nightdress, yet little blood staining was evident on the material. I had confirmed with the coroner's officer that the garment was as found. The tear was clearly cut and not simply ripped.

ii) The girl had been found on her back in a park shrubbery and was cold to the touch on recovery. However a quick examination identified that little blood had pooled to those areas where blood would be expected to settle following death and the position of the body. Neither had the blood settled in a different position after death as a light pressure applied to various parts of the body confirmed.

To be continued:

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part IV A Transylvanian Count

While the coven would appear to be the primary grouping of the vampire, there are also cases of the vampire acting alone, often as outcasts from their coven, weakened by their expulsion, but also of powerful ancients, as in the case of Professor Van Helsing’s tale of one Count Dracula.

 This fellow appears to have been a being of extraordinary power hailing from the far reaches of Transylvania. Van Helsing and his band of the great and the good chased the foul creature from England, following him to his own land before extinguishing him at the very foot of his castle. In the time that has since passed, the professor has continued to seek out the vampire, discovering the existence of many more than his most disturbing nightmares could have conceived.

 It is his opinion that had Dracula sought out the vampires of the city and subjected them to his rule, then London may have been the heart of an entirely different ‘Empire’. In turn it appears that the ‘civilised’ vampires of London purposely kept their distance from this eastern barbarian, though there are those who may have welcomed him as overlord.

The legacy of Dracula’s journey to our shores has, however, been to show the vampires that mortal men and women have an unrivalled capacity to ignore and forget. Dracula’s failure has given new vigour to the covens’ attempts to grow their power and influence. I fear a new era of dominance of the undead has begun. God have mercy on all our souls.

Addendum: Following our most recent encounter with the fiends, I have heard amongst the whispers that Dracula somehow still clings to his existence and there are those who await his return. How this can be I know not, yet I fear it all the same.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part III The Weakness and Organisation of the Creature

The Vampire is indeed a terrifying foe and it would be all too simple to concede defeat and accept their mastery.

Yet they also have their weaknesses. They are repelled by the trappings of God such as the cross and grievously harmed by the touch of holy water. The vampire cannot simply enter a dwelling either, for they must have permission from an occupant to do so, though with their ability to control the minds of others I fear that this may often be of little comfort. They are also only at their apex of their powers in the night, for their abilities largely desert them during the day where they must normally seek refuge in a coffin, tomb, or other such place where the sanctity it once held has been despoiled. However, dear reader, we do know that the creatures may still wander the streets in the daylight, and though they may be far weaker they remain deadly foes.
The vampire that Howell and your correspondent initially encountered was a newly created creature (I understand they refer to them as fledglings) and part of what the vampires refer to as a ‘coven’. This appears to be a group of vampires ruled (for they truly do rule in the manner of the nobility) by the most powerful and ancient of their number, supported by powerful acolytes they themselves have often spawned over the decades. They may also have a number of these fledglings, spawned by the master or perhaps a trusted acolyte, though I daresay a number of such creatures find their way onto the streets outside of the coven. Our work has also identified men and women not yet cursed by this unholy plague who serve the vampires in a parody of many of the great homes of the land. Perhaps they follow for the promise of immortality or perhaps they are kept in a state of permanent confoundment by the powers of their masters?

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part II The Wampyr

Howell is still indisposed, where, I know not, yet I am only mildly concerned as this is not an uncommon situation. This is what we currently know of the creatures that inhabit the night.

The Vampire (or Wampyr)
What appeared to be another missing person case involving a young society girl adrift in the alleyways of London led Howell and I to the shocking revelation that not only do many tales of folklore have at their heart a basis of truth, there are those which are wholly true.

I talk of the vampire, a creature I now know to be as real as you or I. As a doctor of medicine I would, before now, have ridiculed such notions, but that comfort is no longer afforded. The vampire is a being that does not live, but is not wholly dead. The word undead has been spoken in the quiet circles we now move in and I fear that it is an appropriate term. The vampire retains its youth and vigour through drinking the blood of its living victims. This appears to give them some form of immortality and they have the strength of many men and centuries of experience to draw from.

There are also stories of the vampire being able to change form to that of a wolf, dog or great bat. I myself have seen the latter. Some, it is said, can even take ethereal forms, drifting as a mist and able to slip through the smallest of spaces. They can also force their will upon others, perhaps through some form of hypnosis or suggestion. That this appears to work on wilder animals such as dogs and wolves confounds me.

The Casebook of Sheraton Howell: Part I Creatures of the Night

In the absence of Sheraton Howell (who is currently 'places unknown'), I, Dr James Whittle, coroner and advisor to one of Europe's finest Consulting Detectives (his great London rival notwithstanding), shall be recording the many strange occurrences that appear to be besieging our city at present.

Unlike the many other cases of Consulting Detective Sheraton Howell and his friend of many years, your humble correspondent, a recent case is not one that I would willingly share, except with those who have also seen what should not be seen. It would never be believed and would no doubt lead to an enforced period of recuperation at one of the hospitals for those of a broken mind that appear so common these days. In fact I do wonder how many souls residing in such places have seen what we have seen?

We now know a great deal more regarding this most ungodly business than we did a scant few months ago, in no small part due to our meeting with Professor Van Helsing, a great authority on this dark world that we, until recently, were blissfully unaware of. Much of the content of this essay owes a debt of thanks to the professor, illuminating our own bewildering journey with his knowledge gained through personal, bitter experience. Should these notes be read, please have an open mind as you review this narrative. It is not the delusions of a mind addled by the poppy but the words of those who have experienced these, these creatures, these things that make one question everything. To understand these words may be the difference between awakening to the dawn in the safety of one’s own home, or awakening to the sunset in a bed of unholy earth. Or simply not awakening at all. 

Welcome to Highgate Miniatures

Over the next few weeks you will see the start of an exciting range of 28mm Figures depicting the creatures and characters found in literature and film celebrating the world of Victorian Gothic Horror.

These will include:

Vampires: The old and powerful, like Bram Stoker's Count Dracula, the newly turned fledglings, the acolytes, the master's brides and Vampire queens.

Vampire Hunters: Scholars, professors, doctors and men of action dedicated to the vampire's destruction.

Victorian ladies: ready to take on the fight, servants and companions.

London Street Gangs and Gypsy Gangs.

In time the range may expand to include Werewolves, Mummies and all things that go bump in the night.