Commins' Case: Bloody Burlesque ✅

Chapter 8

It is nearly four in the morning by the time we reach the office. Marie and I were forced to walk the four kilometres from the wharf with no carriages cruising the streets, Gabriel hitching a ride on my shoulders. Marie carries her high-heeled shoes, padding along barefoot. Her dress is filthy, her hair in disarray though somehow she still manages to look beautiful. I open the door to the office, allow Marie to enter first, and then lock the door behind me. It feels as though it's been an age since last I set foot in this office. I drop Gabriel carefully on the comfortable couch and fetch a mixture used to heal any non-lethal wounds for Gabriel immediately.

I flick on a lamp. "Can I get either of you anything?" I ask whilst applying the brown sludge to Gabriel's face. "Tea perhaps?"

She slumps down into one of the armchairs, dropping her shoes on the ground. "Do you have something stronger?"

Gabriel is quietly moaning from the burning sensation the healing mixture causes and lifts his hand to try and touch his face. Slapping his hand, I respond to Marie, "Only Merlot at the moment, I'm afraid." I finish with Gabriel, saying, "Do not touch."

I retrieve a bottle of Merlot from the cupboard and pour the three of us a glass, placing a straw in Gabriel's. The three of us sit in silence and drink. She finishes hers, and I hold up the bottle to indicate a refill. She shakes her head. "I just want to get cleaned up and sleep. Do you think we're safe here?"

-

"Most likely as safe as anywhere," I tell her, leaving out the fact that nowhere is particularly safe at present. Black magic can be directed at anyone, wherever they are in the world. A sorcerer does not need to see their victim; they need only know an approximation of where their victim is. I nod my head at the washroom door. "There is a shower in there and clean towels on the rack."

She puts her empty glass down, stands and stops at the bathroom door. "Thank you, Claude."

"Don't thank me yet, darling. I have yet to discover who put the hex on you and how to stop them."

"Still," she says. She looks as though there is more she wishes to express. Instead, she goes into the washroom and closes the door. There is silence until I hear the shower turn on. I swallow my drink and go to shed my wet and dirty clothes. I put on my dressing gown until I can have a shower, and I begin to scrape off the sludge from Gabriel's face. He is still in severe pain, but his face is fully healed.

"Thank you. Claude, I believe?"

"Claude is correct. You're very welcome, Gabriel."

Gabriel stands and limps towards the bathroom door. He knocks, Marie opens it, and the door closes again behind them both. I bring my dirty clothes into a smaller washroom and take the time to thoroughly wash out every last speck of dirt and blood from the fabric. I washed all my clothes once more to be sure before hanging them beside a radiator to dry. I walk back to the main office room and look longingly at the comfortable old couch. Many a pleasant nap has taken place on that couch, but I should leave it for Marie or Gabriel. I can always sleep in one of the armchairs; I've done so many times before.

-

Whilst I'm sitting in the armchair, Marie and Gabriel come back from their shower, still wrapped in towels with damp hair. They curl up on the couch together and whisper to each other, discussing the day they've both had.

After my own long, thorough shower, I got changed into the clothes for later in the morning. When I re-enter the main room, Marie and Gabriel are fast asleep together. I grab the blanket from the back of the couch and tuck in the sleeping couple before getting settled back into the armchair and falling asleep. I sit there with crossed arm for the remainder of the night.

It is late morning when Marie finally stirs. She turns over and mumbles, "How'd you sleep?"

"I slept. How did you sleep?"

"Not well," she admits. "Someone is still trying to kill me. I suppose that sort of thing can ruin a girl's sleep."

"I suppose it would," I agree.

Gabriel wakes and sits up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. "Do we have a plan, Mr. Detective?"

-

I yawn and stagger into the washroom, splash cold water on my face and clean my teeth whilst I formulate. Marie has a death curse hanging over her head. Magic like that, once cast, will continue to come back for her until the job is completed. Much like the proverbial bad penny, it will keep showing up. Even if I were to discover who cast the spell, caught and killed them, the curse would still kill Marie. The first order of business would be to disarm the curse, but that type of magic is far out of my league. Even if I managed to gather the correct components and knew the counterspell, it most likely would fail. I don't have much talent for dismissing black magic curses, but I know someone who may be able to help.

I pat my face dry with a clean towel and pour myself a glass from the bottle on the coffee table. "Someone has cast a powerful hex on you," I tell Marie. "A death curse. Now, I'm going to see about getting it dispelled."

"How come you didn't do that from the beginning?" Gabriel asks. They both look at me expectantly.

"Two reasons," I say. "Firstly, I had to ensure that it truly was magic I was dealing with. Some people see poltergeists in every shadow."

She crosses her arms and tilts her head to the side sceptically. "And the second?"

I pluck up my coat. "This is high-level magic. It doesn't come free."

She places her hands on her hips. "Is this an attempt to get more money out of me, Mr. Commins?"

"Money is not the issue."

"You just said it wouldn't be free."

"I did. But I didn't say that it would cost money." I take my revolver from the desk drawer, pull on my overcoat, pick up the receiver and punch in Marcus' number.