Or Else Let Her Be Mine And Mine Alone

The Mystery of the Cloaked Gentleman

I know, I know. Sorry for the late update. I promise that I shall be regular. I will end this fic, hopefully before the year ends itself.

For Jacques Charmolue, inspecting the shoddy inn only raised more questions than answers. The situation was becoming increasingly odd. All clues emerged from his investigation so far ratified to the appearance of a goblin-like fiend on the night of March 29th. According to the innkeeper who managed the place, the suspect had accompanied Captain Phoebus to his room, and seemingly vanished. There had been no appearance of him since.

However, it was a slight comfort that in spite of his blameworthy contribution in the wrongful trial of La Esmeralda, his conclusion of the devil's involvement was, in probability, still true. There was no other possible explanation. No ordinary human was capable of doing what the perpetrator of this case had done. Following and intimidating the Egyptian for months, then bribing Captain Phoebus and assaulting him when he was with the gypsy. The innkeeper even said that the coins she had been given in exchange of the room had transformed into a leaf the next morning. Charmolue's assessment was a crazed voyeuristic demon attempting murder out of envy.

'Think harder. Do you not even remember his voice or build?'

The innkeeper grimaced, tired of repeating the same thing. 'He didn't speak. There is only so much one can make out from a cloaked man. You can't expect an old lady to be a great observer, can you?'

Charmolue narrowed his eyes. The hag was insolent at best. 'I am the King's proctor, madame. It shall do you well to remember that. Wasn't it you who first testified against the Egyptian? You can be taken in custody on grounds of detracting the court.'

Immediately her hands raised in defence. 'I apologize, Mr Proctor! Have pity on this poor dame. But it puzzles me, what makes you so concerned? Hasn't the gypsy sorceress been convicted already?'

'Don't bother with it. Just tell me; is there anything you can say about the gentleman who accompanied Captain Phoebus on that night?'

'No,' she said doubtlessly.

'Very well. If you recall anything, do tell me.' The proctor put on his hat before setting off for the door. He had his hand on the door's handle when she called out. 'Wait. I did see that his cloak was black.'

Charmolue lazily looked at her. 'Most gentlemen's cloaks are black.'

'No, it was a really lustrous black,' she carried on. 'It appeared smooth too. Velvet, perhaps. How many do you think can afford velvet in Paris?'

'Are you sure it was velvet?'

'I am sure that it was well-made. Your criminal may be from the upper-class, monsieur.'

His face hardened. 'That is a senseless assumption to make. If he were so, why would he take all this trouble, and not simply go to a prostitute?'

The innkeeper rubbed her chin with her palm. 'Maybe...he is in a position where he cannot satisfy his urges.'

'Do you care to elaborate?'

Her coarse voice dropped to a muted tone. 'Innumerable men and women of come to this petit chalet. Some poor, and some rich. You know those men who are praised to the skies for their abstinence? I've seen them come here too. Priests come here, Mr Proctor.'

He looked at the old woman with calculating eyes. 'Do you mean to accuse a clergyman of- '

'You misunderstand me, sir!' she interrupted him. 'Who am I to accuse anyone of anything? I merely suggest you to look into those as well who you do not look for when searching a murderous deviant. If he took so much care to conceal his identity, maybe he is recognizable.'