“God, that’s an unearthly sound.” Joseph said, tugging at his still-ringing ear.
“What the hell were you doing?” Martin asked.
“Trying to go down the street.”
“Oh, that’s why your feet were rooted in place? You were trying to go down the street? Are you going senile, old man? Is your brain finally becoming as rotten as your teeth?”
“They started it.”
“Oh, they always start it, so you say!”
“I doubt they’ll try picking a fight with me again, though. It was a couple of new watchers egging on the rest, one in particular with greasy, long hair like a girl. The insurance companies fired a couple of watchers and hired a handful of new ones to take their place, so they were squaring up to me to try and prove they belonged.”
“Madness.”
“I know, but when you give people money to stand around and watch, you’re not going to attract scholars.”
“I mean you. Picking fights like you’re some kind of French apache! Why don’t you act your age? Why don’t you act your profession? Why don’t you act human?”
Joseph shrugged. “In my defense, it did not come to blows.”
“Because I showed up and rescued you! Honestly Joseph, what did you expect to do against a group of men a third your age?”
“Win.”
“Madness! Senile old fool, you know Matthew is furious with you? He told you not to do anything, he told you!”
“I’ll have a talk with him later.”
“I hope he lays into you when you do.” Martin gazed down the street. “Huh. They’re still running to beat the devil.”
Joseph put a hand over his eyes and joined Martin in looking. “That they are! Good. I hope they run all the way home.”
Martin sighed. “We’re going to have to do something about the watchers, aren’t we?”
“No, they’re just barking dogs.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
“I mean it. On some level, they realize they can’t hurt us. Our little game puts food on their table.”
“Well, if we’re going to leave this thing alone, we need to make sure the Ror Raas doesn’t hear about it.” Martin said.
“I never thought I would hear you say that.”
“I trust Dr. Lumen. But Violet somehow discovered we were threatened by the Putnamites, and she nearly set Silas Putnam on fire in front of a crowd and martyred him.”
“Poor Bob has an ear around him, somewhere. And I hope he finds it.”
“But maybe one of us should go visit Manifold Financial.” Martin said. “Just to be safe.”
“We aren’t in any danger.”
“But just to be safe--and besides, if Violet was able to find out about the assassination attempt, she might be able to find out about this. I doubt they’re going to keep their mouths shut about this altercation.”
“We’ll let Matthew decide.”
“Why is it we have so much trouble with humans?” Martin asked. “You’d expect trouble from manes. We’ve been trained to deal with manes, we’ve been given special equipment to handle manes, and yet it’s the human problems we face that don’t have a resolution.”
“They say the nature of humans is directed towards conflict and the nature of ghosts is directed towards rest.” Joseph squinted into the distance. “Say…my eyes aren’t as good as they used to be, but do you think that’s Mr. Carter at the end of the street?”
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“Where?” Martin asked. “I can’t see through the watchers. Which one do you think he is?”
“The one that doesn’t have his back turned to us, obviously.”
“Oh! I think I see him…yes, that might be him.”
“Good. Then I’ll go and greet him.”
“You mean you’ll do what you were supposed to have done instead of picking a fight with the rabble?” Martin asked.
Joseph waved a hand over his shoulder as he walked down the street. “If it gets done, it gets done, doesn’t it?”
…..
Mr. Carter was awestruck as Joseph led him through Harwood street. The giant of Ernst, Morton, and Glass wasn’t as big as Illustrated Phantom Stories depicted, but he was big. Mr. Carter felt like a child, following along in Joseph’s shadow and having to look up at him to talk.
Mr. Carter suddenly looked down as he heard something crunch beneath his feet. He saw that he had crushed a half-consumed tin of jellied eels.
“Ah, what a waste.” Joseph said. “We have such good jellied eels around these parts, too. Sorry about that, one never walks barefoot in Blackwall for a good reason.”
“Did those men leave this?” Mr. Carter asked.
“And likely more. But it’ll be cleaned before sunset.”
They would ask little Eva to send her “kitties” out to clean. They could pick a street clean in minutes under her command.
“What were those men doing?” Mr. Carter asked. “It’s like they had a picnic out here.”
“That’s not too far from the truth.” Joseph said. “We call them watchers, because they do a lot of watching. They’re private investigators, most of them. Like Pinkertons. They work for insurance companies. The companies like to raise the premiums of people with hauntings, and the watchers are out here to find people with hauntings.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad they were too busy running away to see me, but they’d know who I was even if they did. My theater has enough to worry about without our premiums going through the roof.”
“You own a theater?” Joseph asked.
“I’m a shareholder, but only a small one. I’m also the director of the Gnome theater.” Mr. Carter kicked a crumbling Chelsea roll. “You have my sympathies, Dr. Morton, we’ve banned snacks from the Gnome, but we still find all sorts of disgusting crumbs on our floors after a show. I suppose these watchers are like an audience for your adventures--a very misbehaved audience.”
“True, very true. And when the show’s over, it’s so hard to get them to leave.”
As they approached the offices, Mr. Carter saw white flowers in the window. They grew in long, vertical clusters. Parts of the plant were like segmented rods and looked a little like thin pinecones, but other parts flowered into pointed, star-like flowers.
“Oh. You keep flowers?” Mr. Carter asked.
“Asphodels, to be specific. They’re hard to care for in this climate, but I appreciate the challenge. I started growing things back in the Thames settlement so I could eat something that wasn’t the gruel the soldiers handed out. I liked growing things, so I keep doing it.”
“They’re very pretty flowers.” Mr. Carter said.
“Thank you. Homer said the afterlife was filled with white asphodels.”
“Well, mankind knows better now.”
“Homer was wrong, but not completely so. When you look at the afterlife, it does look like a field of white stars.”
“Truly?” Mr. Carter asked.
“To me, that’s what the afterlife looks like. And I imagine Homer saw it similarly. The Ror Raas say that the greatest minds of the ancient world could intuit what they now explore with gaeite.”
Joseph pushed the door open.
“You don’t lock your doors?” Mr. Carter asked.
Joseph grinned. “Why would we?”
“Good point.”
Mr. Carter was glad to find that it was very warm inside the offices. He unbuttoned his coat and placed it on a nearby coat rack. “It’s so warm!” he exclaimed.
“Apologies if it’s too warm.” Joseph said. “It’s hard to balance the heating for a building this large.”
“Oh no, it’s not a problem, not even close to a problem. After the cold and damp outside, this is like heaven!”
“The man that does our heating does great work. He’s an expert when it comes to boilers, and boiling.”
Mr. Carter saw that the desk by the flowers in the window belonged to Dr. Morton. Even without the presence of the flowers, he could tell by the great accumulation of bottles and food containers. A giant would have a giant appetite. But if that was not enough, beneath the squalor was a tiny sign, immaculate and free of dust even on the hard to reach spots around the raised bronze letters which spelled out DR. JOSEPH MICHAEL MORTON. MANESOLOGIST.
Mr. Carter smiled. These men were supposed to be ghosts, according to the rumors? They were far too animated to be the living dead.
Joseph motioned towards a door. “This way, Mr. Carter. This is where we have our meetings.”
“Dr. Glass and Dr. Ernst are waiting for us?” Mr. Carter asked.
“Yes. We’re all ready for you.” Joseph replied.
“I’ll admit, it’s somewhat unnerving that you’re ready for me, but I think it’s better than what I was expecting. I was afraid this would be like visiting the dentist and I would have to sit in a lobby and wait and wait and wait. But how much exactly do you already know about my case?”
“Very little.” Joseph said. “We’d like for you to fill in the blanks. The spirits only told us who you are and that you’re in distress. It’s not like we spy on our clients, Mr. Carter.”
Inside the meeting room, Mr. Carter saw that Dr. Matthew Ernst was as plain and nondescript as Illustrated Phantom Stories depicted. And Dr. Martin Glass, while still striking, lost something without two floating dog heads flanking him.
Mr. Carter took a seat at the table, which took up most of the room. It could easily have accommodated more than four men, and Mr. Carter imagined that for some cases, like the one involving the lost crew of the HMS Glider, the entire room was filled with clients,
‘Thank you for coming, Mr. Carter.” Matthew said.”We appreciate having guests, but if you ever have need of us in the future, please send us an electrogram. We recently installed an electrograph in the offices. It can, and has, received electrograms from any point on the planet. They arrive near-instantly, and we can respond just as quickly. Electrography allows us to better arrange face-to-face meetings with our clients.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Mr. Carter said. “Wow…I’m a little overwhelmed, I admit, seeing you three together. I’m so used to seeing you in drawings!”
“You read Illustrated Phantom Stories?” Joseph asked.
“Well…it’s not something I read often. It’s fairly…common literature, and Nesbit’s Manesology is much more comprehensive, though the broadsheets do inform about recent hauntings.”
“Oh, don’t be coy about it.” Joseph said. “Everyone reads Illustrated Phantom Stories.They say even the Queen has skimmed through a few issues. And what you will about the prose, but I think the pictures are quite nice. I keep a few of the really nice ones pinned up around my desk.”
Mr. Carter couldn’t recall seeing any, but he was very distracted by the clutter.