DOCTOR DEATH

Chapter 11

The knife came slamming down on the piece of meat.  The grizzly man handed the meat to the customer. "Good day sir" greeted James as he and Mary approached the butcher.  The botcher exited his shop to see the visitors. Tall with a trimmed beard, a weathered smile broke out on his face.  "My God, Kid? That you?" he asked as the detective neared. "In the flesh so to speak" he grinned as he was embraced by the bigger man. "Sara, guess what stray lamb has come again?" he called out his wife. His wife exited the house and she instantly smiled as she saw who it was. "James! God bless you!" she said hugging him. "My, look how you've grown" she commented on his height. "In a few years time, you'll have a beard like mine" the man pointed out. "Ahem" Mary ahemmed. "Oh right, this is Mary Lowell, my partner" he introduced her to the couple. The couple acknowledged her presence.  "Come in" offered Sara. "Uh, in your shop?" she gave a concerned look. 

The couple burst into fits of laughter. "Are you stupid, Virgin Mary? Their house obviously" he said, pushing Mary inside the house. The house was well furnished though not as fancy as most, it was a modest home.  "What bring you to our home, James" asked Sara as she poured some tea for the guests. "Well, I'm here to question you" he said frankly. "Question?" the couple looked at each other curiously. "On what?". Mary was meanwhile surveying some pictures. "Who's this boy in the photos?" asked Mary.  James shook his head vigorously, signaling that it wasn't a good idea. Sara approached the woman, getting a good look at the picture. "That's George, he was our son" she explained. "He was our son" added the butcher.  "What happened to him?" asked Mary. 

James raised his hands in defeat. "Well...He was at in London with his fiancé Lilly White when he went to have a few brew with some fiends, some beer. Then...next thing we hear..." sobs escaped her lips as her husband placed a comforting hand. "Look what you've done, Virgin Mary. Good job" he said, sipping his tea. "George..." She said in thought. "My God, George! The boy who's body was found in London! All those years ago! Which means..." She turned to James suddenly, her eyes wide in realization. "My God. You knew him" She said softly. 

James abruptly stood up. "Whelp! Hahaha! Sorry for the disturbance. I came to question you on the count's death. Just visited the countess who told me that you, John Howard, that your wife was with him. Care to explain?" he said. "Why are you here, James?" asked the butcher. "Huh?" his eyebrows raised. "Why are you here? You never gave us solace ! The killer was still at large! You just bloody couldn't! You then went into 'retirement'! Why James why? Now you're accusing my wife of prostitution? Just because the widow of a vampire count said so? When were vampires reliable, huh?" John looked at James for answers. 

James' face softened. "I tried to break him to justice. I really did. I did my best you know" he shrugged. Sara stopped her sobbing to  look up  at James with fiery eyes. "Your best wasn't good enough, James" spat venomously. Overcome with guilt, she started to apologize, "I'm sorry I brought that up. I didn't mean to dig up old wounds. I.." spoke Mary but James placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go Mary" he said, his face overcast with a shadow. He walked off and she exhaled before following him, sobs echoing the house. 

***

It was very quiet in the carriage. Mary sadly looked at James as he gazed out the window, focusing his eyes on the trees in the park, especially the children playing with their parents. "James, I didn't mean..." "It's alright" he interrupted her.  "George's death was part of the case you and Edward worked on. A madman going around, killing supernaturals. Six years ago, I was younger and hated your guts.  I didn't understand why would the chief bring a known drunkard, womanizer, crossdresser and joker over. I still don't understand. But you were here and I had to accept it."

"The when George's body was found, you acted so nonchalant, I didn't understand. I was mad, like you didn't care. My rage knew no bounds when I heard you had taken leave. For what? You then a different man, you were more...how can put this..." she thoughtfully said. He chuckled lightly. "Serious?" "Yes! So overbearing yet drinking your life away. You then had the incident with that masked man and you were off the case. Next thing I hear, you're in retirement. Now you're back. I wonder why?" she raised an eyebrow.  

The thirty-three year old shrugged then sighed. He looked blankly at the children playing. "Emma Jones, a woman who always took care of me died. She was killed by Doctor Death" he barley whispered. "I'm sorry" she gave her regards. "It's alright. Guess you can say, this personality of mine is a mask I wear, to hide my fears and pain. I can only fake happiness, I've forgotten what happiness is, what is means, how it feels.  Looks like you don't know me as well as you thought, Ms. Lowell" he remarked, gazing at the blonde. She bowed her head for moment before raising it to meet his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but then the carriage stopped. He stepped out of it. Mary looked out the window, watching him enter the flowers shop. After some time, he stepped back into the carriage and it continued on its way. "What's with the flowers?" she said, pointing at the bouquet of purple hyacinths.  "For a friend" he said softly. She quirked an eyebrow at the notion.

***

The carriage stopped at the cemetery and he stepped out. Mary followed him. "Please wait for us" she begged. The carriage driver agreed. She walked past all the other graves until she stood behind James who was looked up at the angel of a certain grave. He placed the hyacinths down and bowed his head to pay his respects. "Was Emma..." began Mary. "A good woman? Yes. Her blueberry pies were the best. She'd tell me come over but I'd decline. I now wish I did. But when you aspire for ambition, you lose sight of what's important. Like George and now Ms. Jones" he stared down the grave. 

"Why don't you put flowers on George's grave?" she asked. "I was kind of banned to do so when I showed up at the funeral, drunk with grief. I...uh...relieved myself on his grave. My sister forbid me to never put flowers on his grave until I was a better man. I haven't to this day" he joked. Mary chuckled softly. "Finally, Virgin Mary laughed at my joke" He said dramatically. "Oh shut up! It was a moment of weakness" She smiled at him.  "Now, now. You're disrespecting the dead" he waved his finger. She snorted, "You started this". He smiled but it quickly left his face. "May God be merciful to me as he was to you" he whispered, kissing the angel's hand. "That's what she'd say when I and my sister had to leave. The fact he killed an old woman" he swiftly stalked off, Mary trying to keep up with him. "Do you know who is was?" she asked quickly. "No, but I have a feeling"

AN: Another beautiful chapter. Enjoy. Also, have a moment of silence for Emma and George.  Afterward, think about the lore drop I've placed at your feet. Better be writing that down in your sleuth pads, it's important. (I  know last minute but if not, get a notebook, a 'sleuth pad' and write down key details you or I point out). Thanks for reading and I implore you to please continue. 

Eddy Fran