“Oh, Miss.” Mala sobbed as Iolanthe descended the stone steps.
“I’m so happy to be out,” Iolanthe said, “even your hideous face is a welcome sight.”
“Thank you, Miss.” Mala wept. “You’ll be wantin’ to go home, then?”
“No.” Iolanthe shook her head. “I’ve much to do.”
“But, Miss,” Mala argued. “Your ordeal, you must be so tired.”
“After arguin’ with those fools in there, I feel alive. They done made a mistake putting me in their prison for a murder I didn’t commit. They were wise to release me. Now, I must make some visits.”
“Visits, Miss?” Mala asked.
“There are two houses on Royal Street which should be expecting my arrival.” Iolanthe smiled. “The only question is which to visit first. I wonder what my dear friend Ulrika is about. Perhaps she should be my first visit.”
Ulrika Rittenhouse, of course, was in no position to be visited. She lay, unconscious on her bed in exactly the same twisted position she had been in when Arthur and Gerard dropped her there. Arthur stood over her and wrung his hands.
“You gotta do it, Gerry.” Arthur hissed.
“I told ya, Artie,” Gerard shook his head quickly. “I can’t kill no woman.”
“Don’t think of her as a woman.” Arthur frowned. “She ain’t no lady, that’s for sure. Think of her as a wild beast what needs gettin’ rid of.”
“Then, you do it.” Arthur shrugged.
“I ain’t no killer.” Arthur scowled.
“Ain’t ya?” Gerard laughed. “How’d you get them clothes, then? How’d you get the coins we been spendin’. Sure, you ain’t a killer. And, I’m Prince Albert.”
“Fine.” Arthur spat. “But, we gotta do it fast and without no mess.”
“Smother her.” Gerard suggested.
“That’d work.” Arthur nodded, looking around the room. His eyes settled on a green silk cushion. “Here we go, then.”
At that very moment, at their borrowed house on Royal Street, Robert knelt on the ground and spoke slowly to Mr. Scaramouche who continues to writhe around and howl.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Robert said softly.
“I know who you are—the ‘hero’ doctor.” Scaramouche snarled.
“I’m no hero.” Robert replied. “I am, however, a friend.”
“You’re no friend of mine.” Scaramouche moaned. “I’ve no friends at all. No one cares for Scaramouche.”
“Not so.” Robert protested. “I care for all who occupy the Duke of Fallbridge’s body.”
“You just want to overpower me.” Scaramouche grunted.
Robert sat on the floor, cross-legged. “To be honest, yes, I do.” He smiled.
Barbara whispered. “Careful, Doctor.”
Robert ignored her.
“I do wish to restrain you, but it’s for your own good. If you continue as you are, you’ll do harm to your body and you will hurt Mr. Punch and Julian. You may not like them, it seems, but you can’t argue that you need them and wish them no harm.”
“You fancy you’re so smart, but you’re no match for Mr. Scaramouche!” Scaramouche answered, wriggling. “What do you know? As we speak, those two are harming me! I should return the favor.”
As Robert continued to try to ration with Scaramouche, Marjani slowly crept up behind them and quietly placed Robert’s doctor’s bag at his side.
Robert sensed Marjani behind him and nodded.
He continued, “Mr. Scaramouche, I don’t think you’re thinking very clearly. If you want to silence Mr. Punch and His Grace, you have but to drink this.” He reached into the bag and retrieved a small vial of milky white liquid.
“Why should I trust you?” Scaramouche asked.
“Because, I am, as you say, a hero.” Robert grinned.
Did you miss Chapters 1-257? If so you can read them here.
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