Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 138

Chapter 138: 

Kasperl 



While Robert worked to save Gerard—assisted by Gamilla—Charles sat patiently watching the unconscious body of the Duke of Fallbridge and the Duke’s slumbering son. Time seemed to stand still, but, then, there was a quick and unexpected movement.

Charles, upon seeing the Duke’s eyes flutter, gently rose from his chair and placed Colin in his cradle.

Hurrying to the Duke’s side, Charles knelt down by the sofa upon which he’d placed his employer and whispered. “Your Grace? Can you hear me?”

Suddenly, the Duke’s eyes sprung open like those of an over-wound automaton. He bolted upright into a stiff sitting position.

Immediately, Charles knew that Mr. Punch had not returned. Looking into the familiar face, Charles rose to his feet and bowed his head slightly. “To whom am I speaking?” Charles asked.

“I am called Kasperl.” The words slipped unctuously out, coated with a slight German (or perhaps Austrian—Charles couldn’t decide which) accent.

“Kasperl?” Charles nodded. “Where is Mr. Punch?”

“Gone.” Kasperl replied curtly.

“And His Grace, the Duke?”

“The same.”

“Ah.” Charles answered.

“Before you begin with your ridiculous sycophancy,” Kasperl cringed—his voice slithering from the Duke’s lips, “Let me inform you that I have no interest in Punch’s little pantomime.”

“Oh?” Charles tilted his head to the left.

“This charade with which you humor him. I will not be called ‘Your Grace.’ I have no desire to be burdened with such pretense. Nor, young man, do I have a desire to mislead those around me. I am not the Duke of Fallbridge. Don’t refer to me as such.”

“Who are you, then?”

“I’ve told you, boy, that I am called Kasperl.” He sniffed.

“What does that mean exactly?” Charles asked.

“I have no time for such things.” Kasperl frowned. He pointed to Colin’s cradle. “What is that?”

“That is your son.”

“Not my son.” Kasperl shook his head. “I’ve nothing to do with it. Nor do I wish to. Where’s the doctor? He should be informed of my arrival.”

“The doctor is engaged presently.”

“Fetch him.”

“I cannot.” Charles shook his head.

“Very well,” Kasperl growled. “I do not need him. You will do.”

“For what exactly, Your Gr…” Charles paused.

“You have caught yourself. Good. You’ll do well.” Kasperl nodded. “Fetch me a change of clothing.”

“What’s wrong with your present clothes?”

“They’re not mine.”

“We have none of your clothes here.” Charles smiled.

“Ahhhh…” Kasperl scowled. “That would be true. I will wait.”

“For what?”

“You border on insolence.” Kasperl snapped. “Where is your famed loyalty?”

Charles shrugged. “If you’re not the Duke, then I do not work for you. If you’re not Mr. Punch, we are not friends. I have no connection to you. I have no reason to be loyal.”

“I command you!” Kasperl barked.

“No.” Charles shook his head. “You do not.”

“You must do as I say. You must take commands from whoever lives in this body.”

“But,” Charles replied cleverly, “you have no interest in what you called Mr. Punch’s ‘pantomime.’”

“No, I do not.” Kasperl sighed. “I do not care about his child nor about his romance with the handsome doctor nor his foolish, misguided attachments. This body is nothing to me but a tool so that I might exact my plan.”

“Which is?”

“To destroy it, of course.” Kasperl replied plainly.

This, rightfully, alarmed Charles. “It is not yours to destroy.”

“It’s as much mine as it is Punch’s.”

“Mr. Punch, as I understand, has earned his ownership of the body—a right he was also granted by His Grace, the true and original owner of those bones and that flesh. The two, I believe, are as tied to one another as Mr. Punch is to the doctor. They have an understanding. You have no right to interfere.”

“And, you have no right to question me.” Kasperl spat. “You are nothing but a servant.”

“In this household, I serve His Grace, yes, but....”

“You serve Mr. Punch,” Kasperl interrupted.

“I’ve learned that they are one in the same.” Charles growled. “You say that there’s some deception at hand. However, there is not. We refer to Mr. Punch as we would the Duke because he is of just such a station himself. There’s no deception. It’s respect for his standing. You, however, are new to me, and I can already decide that you are not worthy of my respect.”

“How dare you…”

“You’d do well to spare yourself the upset.” Charles frowned. “Why don’t you just retreat to from wherever you came? No one wants you here.”

“I shall, before finishing my task, first destroy you.”

“No.” Charles smiled defiantly. “Return Mr. Punch to us.”

“I cannot.”

“You can and will.” Charles stepped closer.

“If you come nearer to me,” Kasperl snarled, “I will kill this body. I will kill it. You will see. More than anything else that I can do while here—that is what most appeals to me.”

“I don’t think so.” Charles shook his head.

“You challenge me?” Kasperl laughed.

“No.” Charles sighed. “You’re no challenge.”

Charles, then, raised his fist. “I’m sorry, Your Grace.”

With that, he struck the Duke’s gentle face with such a strong and swift blow that the man flailed backward—falling to the floor, unconscious.




Did you miss Chapters 1-137? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 139 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.

Punch's Cousin, Chapter 138

Nellie panted as she banged on the kitchen door of Edward Cage’s Royal Street mansion.


“What you want?” A short, liveried man said, opening the door slightly. He glared at her with yellowed eyes.

“Please, let me in.” Nellie whispered breathlessly.

“Why?” The man growled.

“Please. I’m being chased.” Nellie pleaded.

“Mr. Cage--he wouldn’t like it.” The man sneered.

“What’s your name?” Nellie asked, pressing herself into the doorway.

“Odo.” The man answered. “I’m called, ‘Ty Odo.’”

“Ty Odo, do you know who Iolanthe Evangeline is?”

“Who wants to know?” Odo asked.

“Do you?” Nellie whispered angrily.

“I done heard the name.” Odo grunted.

“She’s chasing me.” Nellie hissed. “I need sanctuary.”

“Why here?” Odo asked.

“Please, I know Miss Rittenhouse. She’s staying here, isn’t she?”

“If you’re a friend of Miss Rittenhouse, why you come to the back door like you’re some kind of peddler?”

“Do I look like a peddler?” Nellie asked.

“No, that ain’t what you look like. Though you look like you been peddlin’ somethin’.”

“That’s enough,” Nellie said sharply, pushing Odo out of her way. “Where’s Miss Rittenhouse?”

“She’s upstairs getting’ ready for the ball tonight.” Odo smiled at Nellie’s brashness. “You’re a feisty thing, ain’t ya?”

“That’ll be enough from you.” Nellie spat.

“I can’t let you go upstairs,” Odo grinned. “Not ‘less I get somethin’ for my troubles.”

“Oh, you want something,” Nellie hissed seductively, narrowing her eyes and walking slowly toward Odo. She pressed her body against his. He smirked. She then leaned back and slapped him across the face sharply.

Odo growled.

“That’s all you’ll get from me!” Nellie said, hurrying toward the rear staircase.

“Dirty…” Odo shouted. Then, curiously, he laughed. “Dirty witch. It’s the fourth door on the left.”

Ulrika was not pleased to find that it was Nellie who was knocking on her door. She pulled Nellie by the arm into the room.

“What are you doing here?” Ulrika asked, making no effort to close her dressing gown.

“Iolanthe,” Nellie panted. “She’s murdered the Duchess of Fallbridge.”

“Oh,” Ulrika grinned. “And, here, I thought it would be bad news, really.”

“Don’t you understand?” Nellie gasped.

“Very well.” Ulrika smiled. “That’s one less thing to worry about.”

“She killed the woman and carried her body into the house and hanged her in my room!” Nellie said shrilly.

“How dramatic.” Ulrika laughed. “Delicious, really. One does have to admire that woman’s flare.”

“You’re just as insane as she is!”

“No.” Ulrika sighed. “Nellie, I’m much younger than she is. I’ve much to learn.”

Nellie stared at Ulrika—dumbfounded.

“So, you’ve risked being found out just to come here and tell me this?” Ulrika shrugged. “I don’t suppose you’ve managed to give Lord Fallbridge the little ‘tonic’ I offered?”

“I tried.” Nellie said. “Some fool maid drank it.”

“Is she dead?”

“No.” Nellie answered.

“Well, that’s disappointing. Perhaps I mixed it wrong. Oh well, no point in killing a maid. Go back and try again.” Ulrika walked to her chifforobe and, from the bottom drawer, retrieved a small vial filled with a cruel-looking powder. “Try this one.”

“I can’t go back!” Nellie said. “Listen to me! Iolanthe found me! She had two of her men with her. They’re the ones who hanged the Duchess.”

“It’s always nice to have help, really.” Ulrika sighed. “Reliable help, I should say. My Arthur, though he is…passionate, is not the most reliable of assistants. And, you, my dear, are taking far too long.”

“They dragged me out of the house!” Nellie screeched.

“Keep your voice down,” Ulrika spat.

“Iolanthe is mad with rage. I managed to escape and run here, but she’ll find me. She’ll kill me next.”

“We can’t have that, now, can we?” Ulrika sneered. “Presently, you’re far too valuable to me.”

“She got the diamond!” Nellie shouted.

“What?” Ulrika dropped the vial she was holding. It shattered upon hitting the floor. “How? I told you to hide it! How did this happen?”

“She’s unstoppable, you imbecile!” Nellie said frantically. “Don’t you see?”

Meanwhile, at Dr. Biamenti’s house, Mr. Punch sank to the floor—his body shaking with sobs. He removed his hat and tossed it aside.

Robert knelt next to him. “Dear Punch, please don’t do this.”

“It’s me own fault, it is!” Punch wailed. “I left her in that place.”

“She was cruel to you.” Cecil said, coming closer to Mr. Punch.

“Cecil, dear.” Adrienne whispered. “The woman is lying right here.”

“She was.” Cecil continued. “She was awful to Julian. By all accounts, she was horrid to everyone.”

“Don’t mean she deserved to die this way.” Mr. Punch sobbed. “I coulda helped her, I could. Now, me master’s got no one!”

“That’s not true,” Adrienne answered. “No, that’s not true. He has us and he has you.”

“What good am I?” Mr. Punch moaned.

“Plenty of good.” Robert said softly, stroking Julian’s back. “You’ve done such a fine job of protecting Julian for all these years. And, look at what you’ve done for all of us. Punch, you’ve brought us so much joy.”

“Poor, terrible woman, never had a chance to be good.” Mr. Punch wept. “Now, Julian ain’t got no father nor no mother.”

With that, Mr. Punch’s voice faltered, and Julian’s body fell flat to the floor.

“Punch?” Adrienne gasped.

“Dear Punch,” Robert said, reaching for his friend.

The voice that answered was not Mr. Punch’s, but rather one that none of them had heard in weeks.

“Let me see my mother,” Julian said as he rose from the floor. “I want to say goodbye.”



Did you miss Chapters 1-137? If so, you can read them here.