Of Murder and Malady

[groundcontrol]

I was very pleased to see that my desire to post a Victorian-era fic was met with enthusiasm! So here is the promised detective fic set in said era. This will probably have a heavy Dickens influence on it lol, and will also (hopefully) be more plot and character-centric than my other stories  And also, street names, neighborhoods, etc. are all made up by me. Without further ado, let's dive in... 

On a crisp April day in London, the detective Jonathan Hewitt’s most pressing puzzle in the current moment was the moving obstacle course that was Percy Square in peak hour. On every side he was bombarded by scuttling tradesmen, businessmen, pickpockets, and the like, all jostling him with shoulder or knee or God-knows-what. Just to make sure he was paying attention, the Good Lord threw in a few hackney cabs as well.

    Swimming upstream against the current of humanity, Jonathan finally emerged, sweating a tad from the effort, at the door of Josephine’s bakery. He smoothed through his dark hair, wiped his nose, and walked in.

    Throwing his black hat on the rack, he coughed behind his fist as he shut the door. “Give me your hottest bread and give it quick,” he called.

    Josephine emerged, wiping her doughy hands on her crumpled apron. Wispy hairs had wiggled free of her black braid and jutted out at all angles, but Jonathan found it endearing, as he found most everything about the woman. A line of flour streaked her cheek.

    “Good Lord, you’re the romantic type, ain’t you?” she said, smiling teasingly as she approached Jonathan. She opened her arms for an embrace, but Jonathan backed away, shaking his head. 

    “No, love, don't start with that,” he said, fishing for his handkerchief while he felt the inevitable rising. “I think I'm coming down with something." Bending sharply in on himself and away from his lover, Jonathan sneezed thrice into his handkerchief before sniffing wearily.

    Josephine’s expression softened, and she took his wrist to stroke it. “Sounds like you’ve already got it, Jonathan.”

    He shrugged dismissively, the hairs on his neck bristling as Josephine’s hands waltzed up from his shoulders to his cheek. “Feel a fever coming on?”

    “No,” Jonathan said, lying in the hopes that his feelings wouldn’t come true. He took Josephine’s hand and squeezed all her fingers together. “But I would like to feel some bread coming into my mouth. I’m famished.”

    “Come now,” Josephine said, rolling her eyes but heading back to the ovens regardless. “When’s the last you ate, twenty minutes ago?”

Jonathan gasped in mock indignation, coughing softly as a consequence. “Since last evening, I will have you know.”

“Last evening!” Josephine called from the kitchen. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have breakfast?”

Releasing he had said too much, Jonathan felt his cheeks burn pink and he said sheepishly, “I wasn’t hungry.”

Josephine emerged again, carrying a plate of bread slathered with sugar and honey. The smell was so pungent that it permeated even Jonathan’s blocked nose. He smiled and sniffed deeply.

His lover eyed him skeptically before reluctantly handing over the meal. “Are you sure you’re feelin’ well?”

“Of course, love,” Jonathan said, doing his best to politely scarf down the bread. Fresh and sweet as always, Josephine the baker was second to none. “And even if I weren’t--”

Josephine’s stony glare cut worse than a sharp interjection.

Jonathan held his hands up defensively. “Which I am! But even if I weren’t it wouldn’t matter, I’ve been landed with a heavy case. Murder of a man called Adolphus Rutherford.”

Josephine frowned slightly and took on a mocking, upper-crust accent. “Sounds well-to-do. What’s his business dying?”

“Precisely what I am to find out. And he isn’t, hehh-- excuse me--Heh’ishoo! Ha’ishh!” Jonathan sniffled thickly behind his handkerchief. “He isn’t as upper class as you’d think. He was born Chester Rowley, son of a factory foreman in the East End. Came into some money and changed his name to fit the bill.” Jonathan was overcome by a hail of coughing, and he grabbed at his chest as he did so.

A soft, cool hand was waiting on his cheek, stroking the scar on his jawline where he had been slashed by a companion of Mickleby those three years ago. Slowly, Jonathan raised his eyes to find Josephine’s eyeing him intently with concern and care. Her eyes were the turquoise color of a pond in the summer. 

“Don’t work yourself ill on this case,” Josephine murmured gently. The flour was still on her cheek, and it was a better sight on the eyes than any cosmetic.

After a moment of tenderness, Jonathan broke away, as much for his sake as hers. Placing his hat back on his head, Jonathan went to the door. “Don’t worry, my lovely. I will do nothing of the sort.”

Jonathan did his best to duck out of the bakery before Josephine could retort, but even so her protestation slipped out right behind him. “Jonathan Hewitt, you know I trust you as far as I can throw you!”

He smiled, even as he massaged his tender throat. There was work to be done.

TBC

Edited January 21, 2017 by groundcontrol
my forgetful self left a bit out at the beginning

[queenie]

I'm thrilled! I can't wait for more of this. It's so restrained, yet so tender. 

[Alicia2]

I really enjoyed this, I prefer detectives who show a bit of weakness and humanity and what better way than a cold with lots of sneezing? The relationship between Jonathan and Josephine is lovely too, really romantic.

[groundcontrol]

On January 21, 2017 at 0:04 PM, queenie said:

I'm thrilled! I can't wait for more of this. It's so restrained, yet so tender. 

I'm overjoyed to hear you liked it, thank you!

 

1 hour ago, Alicia2 said:

I really enjoyed this, I prefer detectives who show a bit of weakness and humanity and what better way than a cold with lots of sneezing? The relationship between Jonathan and Josephine is lovely too, really romantic.

My thoughts exactly! A cold certainly is the best way to have a detective show some vulnerability, isn't it?  Thank you for your compliments, they make me smile.

Thanks again to both of you and all who read, and here's Part 2!!

Part 2

Jonathan headed to the only place that had really caught his attention in the case file: The Mercy Haven Foundling Home. It was run by Catholic sisters, and Rutherford had evidently had a large hand in feeding it with donations by the month. Jonathan figured the sisters could tell him at least a bit about the benefactor.

The building was a converted Episcopal church, with cloudy ashen windows in place of stained glass. Moss grew in the cracks of grey-white bricks, and though what fenced grounds it had rung with the screaming laughter of children, the whole building still exuded melancholy. Jonathan had passed it many a time, after all it was on the way from Josephine’s bakery to his cousin’s apartment, but he had never given it more thought than it took to retrieve a stray ball or stick and toss it back over the fence to the children. 

Handkerchief clamped firmly on his streaming nose, Jonathan waited at the padlocked gate for one of the sisters to turn around and notice him. A little boy, chasing a bug in the dirt, looked up at Jonathan from between the wrought iron bars of the gate.

“Lookin’ afta some’un?” he asked, poking at the beetle with a stick.

Jonathan retired the handkerchief to his pocket with a sniffle. “Yes,” he said. “Could you get one of the sisters to unlock the gate for me?”

The little boy nodded and ran to fetch one of the nuns, tugging her back to the gate by the sleeve. She was young and ruddy of face, and smiled kindly at Jonathan. “Jack says you’d like me to unlock the gate, is that right?”

Jonathan nodded, fighting the urge to sneeze, and the gate slid open in front of him. The nun took him by the shoulder and gazed into his eyes as she spoke. “What brings you here?”

Her warm manner, though genuine, was a little off-putting to Jonathan, especially since he was no doubt so, though he hated to admit, contagious. His nose burned, and he did his best to do a polite sort of wiggle out of her grasp, but it was no use. Her hands, though soft, held firm. 

“Excuse me.” The words were barely louder than a breath before Jonathan cranked his neck away from her, probably giving himself whiplash in the process. “Heh’eh’ish! Ha’ashoo! Ah’kchoo!” After the first, the nun had finally let him go, and so Jonathan got his handkerchief up for the rest.

“Mby abologies,” he said with a sniffle. Dear God, his head was starting to pound. “I’m here as a bit of business.” He exchanged his handkerchief for his detective’s badge. “I’m Jonathan Hewitt, with the police--”

The nun’s face blanched. “You’re not here to arrest us, are you? We’ve been doing nothing but God’s work, sir!”

Jonathan blinked. “Of course not, ma’am. I am investigating the murder of Mr. Adolphus Rutherford, and to my understanding he was a large donor to this orphanage.”

She relaxed a for a moment, but then bit her lip again. “Mister Rutherford is dead? Lord no, he was a good man if this earth ever saw one.”

Jonathan coughed slightly and removed his hat, placing it over his heart. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. No doubt it will be hard for you, but the more you can tell me about him, the better chance I will have in bringing his murderer to justice.”

She nodded. “Of course, of course.” She started walking toward the doors to the orphanage and motioned for Jonathan to follow. “I don’t know very much about the man. He dealt mostly with the Mother Superior. She’s in her office now, no doubt. Doing paperwork. I’ll take you to her.”

Jonathan nodded. “I would be much obliged. Thank you.”
**********
The Mother Superior’s office was humble but inviting, with shrines of saints and Jesus with burning candles on shelves left and right. She was much older than the nun that had shown Jonathan in, and her face was lined with years of discipline. Yet she too smiled warmly and gestured for Jonathan and the nun to have a seat.

“Felicity, shut the door if you would,” she said, making one final scribble before laying down her pen. Felicity obeyed.

Frantically Jonathan dug up his handkerchief and sneezed four times into it. “Sorry,” he mumbled into the cloth, not daring to drop it until he was sure the tickle had receded and his nose stopped running. “I se--eh’hah--seem! Heh’ka’esh! Heh’ish’oo!” His voice rose to a squeak as he tried to squeeze one more word out before sneezing. He tried to sniffle but it was futile; his nose was entirely and utterly blocked. He exhaled pathetically. 

The Mother Superior cocked an eyebrow at him and folded her hands. “Perhaps you’d fancy a drink, Mr. Hewitt?” she asked, eyes twinkling knowingly.

“A drink?” Jonathan said, blowing his nose but keeping his handkerchief in his lap at the ready. Rude, yes, but far ruder would be to involuntarily spray these poor women of God. He laughed nasally. “I didn’t think that was allowed in your profession.”

“We always keep some whiskey on hand should one of the little ones come down with a headcold or some ailment of the sort,” the Mother said. “And it sounds like you’ve got a wretched one.”

Jonathan nodded, again feeling blush in his cheeks at the notice of his affliction.“That would be lovely, thank you.” 

Felicity fetched the drink for him, and upon her return Jonathan sipped it gratefully. The Mother Superior regarded him as he drank, slowly so as not to aggravate his throat beyond what was necessary. 

“Now, Mr. Hewitt, why has God set you before us today?”

Jonathan lowered his drink and cleared his throat with a wince. “I regret to inform you of this, Mother, but I’m here to inquire about your largest benefactor, Mr. Adolphus Rutherford. He’s been murdered.”

TBC

 

[Alicia2]

I really like this as a detective story as well as a crime story. I actually got so interested in the first couple of paragraphs, I'd forgotten it was a fetish story so paragraph 3 came as a lovely surprise! I love how all the women want to look after Jonathan, it's so sweet! He's such a lovely man too, I think I'm falling in love with him a bit! I'm looking forward to see what the Mother Superior has to say.

[Dusty15]

The classic tireless-detective-with-a-cold! Always a brilliant trope and even better in a Victorian setting! Looking forward to reading more

[groundcontrol]

On January 23, 2017 at 4:09 PM, Alicia2 said:

I really like this as a detective story as well as a crime story. I actually got so interested in the first couple of paragraphs, I'd forgotten it was a fetish story so paragraph 3 came as a lovely surprise! I love how all the women want to look after Jonathan, it's so sweet! He's such a lovely man too, I think I'm falling in love with him a bit! I'm looking forward to see what the Mother Superior has to say.

Wow thank you for this kind comment and I apologize for not replying sooner. I've been rather busy and off the site  I'm glad you like the story itself; I was going for precisely that: a detective story with an added bonus  Aw that's so sweet, as an author I love that you're "falling in love a bit" with my character, and that you're excited for what's to come! Stay tuned! 

21 hours ago, Dusty15 said:

The classic tireless-detective-with-a-cold! Always a brilliant trope and even better in a Victorian setting! Looking forward to reading more

Ah, a favorite trope of mine as well!  Ever so pleased to see I have fellow fans of Victorian setting. To you as well, I'm glad you enjoyed and stay tuned! 

[rockbell]

ooohhh this sounds so interesting! I love detective stories, I cant wait to see how this case will turn out! I also love the dynamic between Jonathan and Josephine, this story is really getting me excited  I cant wait to read what happens next!!

Edited February 15, 2017 by rockbell