“He’ll recognize you.”
Burton grinned. “Do you not remember our sojourn into the Caldron? I assure you, he won’t recognize me.”
“By Jove, you’re right. I almost forgot. My own mum wouldn’t have recognized me in that dingy getup you had me in that night.”
“I’ll let Algy get home and settled, then track his movements from there. Will you keep me apprised of what the other Awakened are up to?”
“Of course,” said Abberline. “You can count on it. We should meet daily to compare notes. I am to meet with Mr. Holmes every afternoon at three o’clock in the Stranger’s Room of the Diogenes Club.”
“Then we shall meet daily at one o’clock,” said Burton.
The two men shook hands and Abberline bid Burton a good afternoon and departed, leaving the explorer alone at the front door, a bundle of nervous energy. He turned and headed upstairs. He needed to prepare his disguise.
Twenty minutes later a man in dark, soot-stained clothes and boots and a threadbare slouch hat walked downstairs. He was about to place his hand on the doorknob and twist it when something struck him on the head, knocking his hat askew.
“Who are you, ruffian?” shouted Miss Angell as she swatted the man with a broom. “Wait until the master of this house hears of this, you miserable lout!”
“Mother Angell!” Burton shouted, grabbing the broom as it came down for another swat. “It’s me!”
Miss Angell’s face went from a chalky white to a deep red of shame. “Captain Burton! Oh, I’m so sorry! I had no idea it was you. You scared me half to death!”
“My apologies,” said Burton as he handed the broom back to his housekeeper.
“Oh, I am sorry too, Captain. Please accept my apology.”
“Your apology is accepted,” said Burton with a wry grin. “I’m no worse for wear. I shall remember never to cross you.”
Miss Angell blushed even more at that. “Oh pish-tosh. You could never get on my bad side. Now, where are you going in that hideous outfit? No. Never you mind. I don’t want to know. Since you’ve taken on with that government fellow, there’s been no end to your clandestine goings on.”
“Mother Angell, you have no idea.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way, if it’s all the same to you, Captain Burton.”
“As you wish,” said Burton, touching his dingy hat and giving a courtly bow. “Now if you will excuse me.” Burton opened the front door and was gone, leaving an embarrassed and befuddled housekeeper staring out after him.
6. Other Londons
Burton had inwardly hoped his old friend would quickly return to his old ways, getting reacquainted with his familiar haunts. But upon leaving Grosvenor Place, the new Algernon Charles Swinburne walked purposefully past every pub and shunned every opportunity for female companionship that was available at this hour and instead knocked at the door of the home of the barrister, Harrison Goforth, the first to be afflicted with whatever had befallen Swinburne and the others. At first, Burton was surprised, but soon realized that the young man probably wanted to meet another in his condition to compare notes, as it were. Burton stood watching them from the corner, Swinburne standing on Goforth’s top step as the much older man looked him up and down. From this distance, he couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the old gentleman seemed to warm up quickly to Swinburne’s presence, and they clasped arms in a peculiar handshake, each man grabbing the other’s forearm and wrapping their arms around each other in a brisk shake before releasing. This turned into the two pointing at one another’s arms and legs and laughing at the seeming absurdity of human construction. Then Goforth reached inside his door, said something to someone inside, and returned with his hat, a gray bowler, in his hand. He slapped it onto his head, and the two men sauntered off as if they were old friends who had known each other for years.
Burton watched for a moment more from his hiding place next to a lamp post and spied a police officer in a dark coat emerge from the alley across the lane and follow at a leisurely pace. This, of course, was the man Abberline had set on Goforth to track his movements. Burton moved off behind him, keeping his distance, careful not to arouse the policeman’s suspicions as well as Swinburne’s. He would likely have a difficult time explaining to the copper who he was and what he was doing and would lose track of Swinburne in the process.
Swinburne and Goforth made a day of it, moving about the city like a pair of tourists, pointing out the architecture of various buildings, and dining in a restaurant near the Strand. But what astounded Burton the most was when they spent the afternoon at a meeting of the Theosophic Society. Swinburne had never shown the slightest interest in the occult. Like Burton, he had always been a devout unbeliever in anything remotely supernatural. So, Burton was shocked when they disappeared into the Theosophes’ regular meeting place. He loitered about for several minutes before consulting his pocket watch and heading off to meet with Abberline at their appointed time and place. He caught a hansom and arrived in front of the Diogenes Club just as Abberline was coming up the sidewalk.
“Captain Burton? Is that you?”
Burton removed his hat. “It is indeed.”
“By Jove! I barely recognized you. I’m glad you’re on my side.”
“I just left from trailing Algy,” said the explorer.
“Aye. And what’s your friend up to?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I don’t like it.” Burton described what he had witnessed.
Abberline nodded. “That does indeed sound strange. And you said he’s with Goforth?”
“At the Theosophic Society,” said Burton. “Algy’s never been interested in the occult.”
The policeman shrugged. “Perhaps they’re looking for an explanation for their mutual condition? After all, medical science doesn’t know the answer to what befell them.”
Burton shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, at any rate, it fits with what we’ve witnessed of the others’ behavior.”
“Oh?” Burton raised an eyebrow.
“The rest of the Awakened have all paired off as well. Three groups of two. I figured they had read about each other in the paper and met to see if they could learn more about what happened.”
“That was my initial guess as well,” said Burton.
“But each of my men has described the same as you, that they met, made introductions, and then went off like they were fast friends. It boggles the mind, it does.”
“I saw your man tailing Goforth, by the way,” said Burton.
“Yes, Havisham. Good man. Can’t shake him off with a stick, that one.”
“Yes, well. I made him easily. Next time, each of your men should be in plain clothes. It would not look good should it be discovered that the police are following certain of the citizenry.”
Abberline’s mouth gaped in surprise. “No, I should think not. Quite right, Captain. I’ll let my men know immediately.”
He checked his watch. “I’m going in to meet with Mr. Holmes. Are you coming in?”
“No.”
“Well, then I’ll be around to Gloucester Place this evening to let you know what he says.”
“Sounds good.”
The two nodded to each other and parted ways. Burton moved up the street, eager to get away from the Diogenes Club. He realized he hadn’t had another bout of whatever feeling had plagued him that morning, and wondered if it had been temporary, or if he had merely been so focused on keeping up with Swinburne and his new friend that he hadn’t noticed anything was amiss. He looked around cautiously, seeking the faces of his fellow Londoners to see if they held something else.
At first, he saw nothing other than the regular hustle and bustle of men and women going about their daily affairs. A street urchin sold papers on the corner, reminding him of young Thomas Malenfant. An elderly man and woman in swishing finery left an establishment and crossed the street, carefully avoiding a lumbering black pantechnicon pulled by a pair of large drays. This reminded Burton unsettlingly of his encounter with the infamous Professor Moriarty, and he continued onward.