Posted by Pierson's Porter on August 02, 2000 at 22:26:10:
Improbably Not: The story of Mr. Anderson Pollock
Chapter One: Illness Uncovered
“How are you feeling today, Miss Darkness?” Sir Mumphrey Wilton asked as he lead his ailing peer from the doorway to their conference room.
“Better today, at least the pain has ceased increasing. The doctors have all been stumped, as I expected. I am, at this point, quite convinced that my condition of the past month has been mystical in nature.”
“That is quite a predicament. Madam, I trust you will let me know if there’s anything that I can do to make you feel better…”
“The entire league is willing to help, of course,” Dr. Hakenfakir interrupted.
“Of course you are, and I appreciate it greatly. But I think it prudent to seek help in a slightly different circle.”
“Perfectly understandable. Now if we’re ready, I suggest we move on to business that we are better suited to,” Hastings Vernal suggested.
The rest of the League, Colonel Blanchford Bertram and Phineas Quimby, the EccentriEtherInvestigatorExplorer!, came in and took their seats.
“This meeting has been called after information was brought to us by Christopher Waltz, who has long been a friend to this organization,” Vernal, the club secretary, reported.
“I feel that he should present it now, but I warn you, especially you Miss Darkness, that it will not be pleasant.”
“It never is,” Wilton responded grimly.
Jakes, the butler, lead in Christopher Waltz. It took Mumph several moments to recognize him. He was very disheveled. His clothes were messy and he obviously hadn’t slept in days. He had only made a half-hearted attempt to amend his appearance before entering the room.
When he spoke there was obvious pain in his voice, but he was still a man of science and did his best to sound objective. Vernal respected that.
“It started a month ago. Women of the night… whores… started appearing slashed. Cut up real bad. Beyond mutilation. It was brutal… savage,” Waltz paused, choked up.
To salvage his dignity, Mumphrey spoke up.
“This sounds terrible, but why haven’t I heard about it?”
Waltz continued. “If…if respectable people aren’t in danger… we keep it out of the papers… don’t want to upset the misses.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Col. Bertram said.
“I strongly disagree,” Hagatha challenged. “How often do the killers move up to respectable girls?”
“Not very often, actually…*sob*” Waltz lost it again.
“Well then, how long does the average whore killer go before he’s caught or stopped?” Knifey asked from Bertram’s waist.
“...A… a couple years, usually…” Waltz sounded ashamed.
“Now listen here!” HV started. “Waltz doesn’t control the policy! That’s all the way up in the Mayor’s office. I expect us to be more hospitable to our guest. Especially after he’s suffered a loss…!”
The whole room was silent.
“I hope you’ll accept our appol--“ Hagatha began.
“No, no… I should have asked the same questions long ago… maybe if I had…” he stopped himself.
“As I said, for the past month there has been a particularly brutal and active killer out there. For the past twenty-eight days he has restrained himself to prostitutes. …Two nights ago he attacked and… killed… a woman who was most definitely not a whore…my daughter, Debbie…”
The room was silent for several minutes.
“Thank you Mr. Waltz,” the secretary said. “I think we should conclude here. After all we are being observed, and I think that our observer has heard quite enough…”