Chapter 10 (a)

Well I will be on vacation this weekend so my next installment will be on Monday.  Enjoy:)

Clive Levinson reclined in his bath and thought over the events of the day. Harelson sat precariously on the edge waiting for his master to impart more wisdom. The intriguing bubbles that he occasionally batted his kitty paw at holding most of his attention frankly.

“Ah Harelson,” Clive sighed, “if only everyone would shut up and show so much attention in what I have to say.” He chucked and splashed the cat playfully sending the feline scurrying away in a huff.

After he left an irritated Glorianna Lockely rearranging her disarrayed gown he’d stopped by Scotland Yard. A missive had been waiting for him from George Lusk head of the Whitechapel Vigilance committee. What had taken the blighter so long to forward it he could only guess. Clive frowned in thought at what the note both concealed and reveled.

It had read:

From Hell

Mr Lusk
Sor
I send you half the
Kidne I took from one women
prasarved it for you tother piece
I fried and ate it was very nice. I
may send you the bloody knif that
took it out if you only wate a whil
longer.

It was signed:

catch me when
you Can
Mishter Lusk.

It had been accompanied by a picture of the kidney stated in the note. A picture that closely resembled the style in which he had become accustomed to seeing in Lord DeWinns work.

Harelson hopped back up onto the tub. “Harleson, do you detect something strange about the note?” He inquired of his cat.

Harelson meowed.

“Quite,” Clive replied. The note was obviously supposed to be a misdirection. The words of someone barley literate. However, the sender had known to put a silent “k” in front of the word “knife” and an “h” in “while” which indicated to Clive that the note was intended to disguise a literate man. A doctor or a Baron perhaps?

Clive really didn’t think Lord DeWinn could have been the sender. He had a knack for feeling out a mans character and Lord DeWinn fit none of the criteria for being the type to commit these heinous crimes. However, circumstantial evidence was building up to implicate him, conveniently implicate him, as if he was being framed by someone that knew what to use to reach that end. Someone like Dr. Tesh whom Clive had no problem believing it was well with in the doctor’s character to do so. Nevertheless, the two had become Clive’s number one and two prime suspects.

The Chief inspector was not inclined to listen to this.

“No Harelson, there is something shifty going on at the Yard concerning this case.

The cat eyed him with seeming interest.

“They are discouraging me in following leads and concentrating on unlikely suspects. It’s as if they just want to find a plausible villain to satisfy the crowds.”

Harelson batted at a few more bubbles.

“Well Harelson my friend, it seems it’s up to you and me to hash this out.”

Clive pulled the plug on the tub. A disappointed Harelson took himself off in search of other distractions. Whether he believed in DeWinns innocence or not he must speak to him.

Clive began pulling himself together. There was a photographic exhibition this evening and he had been told that one of the exhibitors would be Lord DeWinn. It would be an interesting conversation Clive thought.

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