Chapter 1: Confessions and Souls

An October night just before the witching hour; deep in London and still deeper in an autumnal murk.

Hove made his way along the fog-deadened street, his muffled footsteps dutifully followed a sequential glow of street lamps. Tonight was a real peasouper, if he hadn't have known where he was he would not have been able to hazard a guess. Brighton blew on his gloved hands, his breath billowing into the cities freezing night. Finally a cold blue glow told him he neared the meeting point. In another hundred yards or so he would be at Bow police station. A few paces on he noticed a flickering orange glow, slowly it pulsed, dim yet visible near the blue lamp; Hove smiled, Holmes was already there. No surprise in that. Brighton waited for the inevitable welcome.

"Ah Hove, so you decided to join me after all," Holmes quipped.

"I did have a little, further to come Holmes, and I was on your business."

"Our business surely - indeed you were, and you are once more. We have a new case."

Hove scowled, "But Holmes, I am barely started on this one..."

"Pish, old boy this takes precedence, an old friend of the family. Well of sorts," Holmes puffed regally on his pipe, " shall we?" Ned's left arm swept sideways from his cape indicating the steps to the station.

"If we must." chided Hove.

"We must, time waits for no clergyman."

"A man of the cloth? What is he doing here at this accursed hour?" asked Hove.

"He, my dear fellow, is the accused."

Hove's eye glimmered with a hint of interest, "The accused, well I'll be jiggered!"

Ned was already to the top of the stairwell, Brighton made a reluctant dash toward his mentor.

Once inside the warmth of the station was most welcome, as was a familiar voice.

"Mr 'Olmes, I suppose you are 'ere to see the reverend, gawd what a mouthful 'is name is Magdulon-Cholmsee, I don't know 'ow the toff's think 'em up."

Sargent Smythe aimed a clandestine wink at Brighton.

"His name Smythe is Magdalen-Chalmondesleigh; pronounced Maudlin- Chummley; an old, and well respected family in the Shires! Now which cell will I find him in William?"

"'Cell three, next to the drunkard. I thought that might teach 'im not to go around molesting the fairer sex."

"As may be, as may be Smythe; we are here to determine the truth in these allegations."

Holmes stalked past the seated desk sergeant and strode off towards the cells. In turn Hove followed.

"Not one to change is 'e Mr Brighton?" Bill grinned.

"Indeed not Bill, once in a while it would be nice. But I shan't hold my breath."

"A bit out of sorts tonight are we Mr Brighton?"

"A tad Bill, I expect it will pass. It normally does."

Hove ignored Bill's intake of breath and walked on. A minute later he joined Holmes at the studded door.

"If you please constable," Holmes asked.

The door duly swung open and Brighton followed Ned within.

A single, dejected figure was seated at the cells humble table. As Hove's eyes accommodated to the dim light he could make out the shock of white hair atop the bowed head. Brighton winced, he had expected a young inexperienced cleric who had been seduced by a trim ankle. Clearly this case would be one to defy expectations.

Holmes seated himself, then reached forward and placed his hand gently on the reverends trembling fist.

"Fortesque? How are you bearing up?"

The man head tilted upwards to reveal reddened eyes peering from below a heavily wrinkled brow; thick lips trembled and finally opened.

"Please Ned, there is no need for the formalities, call me Forty. I am not the man that Christened you, nor am I worthy of such a task any more."

"Now, now Forty, I'm sure it is not as bad as you think..."

The reverends cracked voice butted in, "It is far worse than you could imagine, far, far worse," Forty whimpered, "I am undone; possessed, as I am, of evil."

Holmes glanced at Hove, and beckoned him to sit.

"Brighton and I are here to help, and to dispell this evil," assured Holmes.

"No man can, and I'm unsure any god can, my sin is unforgivable. I don't know where to start."

Forty slowly shook his head.

"I always find the beginning to be a good place old man, try the beginning," said Holmes.

Forty sighed, "Well the beginning is that I am just a man, subject to the same desires as any. I know I could have taken a wife, but when I was young it did not bother me. Now though, I miss companionship, a woman's touch and ... Most of all ... Well..."

"Physicality?" Holmes interjected.

"Well yes, to be frank, for years I have had it under control, but now as the twilight approaches it seems more ... Desirable than ever."

"And this is what drew you to accost the ladies?" asked Hove.

"No, I'm not nearly that shallow, in retrospect it may have been be better that I were..."

"Please continue," said Holmes.

"So about two months ago a new lady joined the congregation, Sybil Marrows. A very upright, but extremely handsome woman. Over the next few weeks as I became acquainted with her my delight in her grew. Alas so did my distracted thoughts and shall we say frustrations, yes deep frustrations." The reverend sighed deeply, "To be truthful it became too much, prayer did not help, nor did penance. In the end I talked to Miss Marrows, I hoped she would agree to being my wife."

The reverend hung his head once more. Holmes reached across and laid a hand on Forty's shoulder. "I presume she did not agree my friend?"

"No, she did not. She was kindly and advised me that although she was single she could not join with me in matrimony. She did suggest something else though..."

Hove raised his eyebrows, "Surely you do not mean an unsuitable arrangement?"

Forty coughed, "Well yes, but not in the way you are suggesting. Sybil asked me to visit her spiritualist. Of course I was aghast, not only could I not accept, I found it distressing that the woman that I adored believed in such heresy. I asked her to leave; once she had I fell into a black mood. She was lost to me in every way imaginable. What she asked was of course impossible for a man of the cloth."

Holmes lent back in his chair and fished his meerschaum pipe from his frock pocket, "Do you mind?"

Forty shook his head lightly.

Ned took his time cleaning, then lighting his pipe, finally he drew a deep breath and issued a cloud of bluish smoke. He placed his left hand on the table and tapped his fingers lightly, finally he settled his eyes on the seated clergyman.

"Of course such a thing was impossible. However, that did not stop you did it?"

Forty seemed to shrink visibly, "You always were an observant one, even as a child. As you say, it did not stop me. I made the decision that I should visit the spiritualist with Sybil. I told myself I did it for her, out of love; but no it was for me I see that now. I was selfish, and foolish. Now I pay the devil his due." The clergyman wiped a tear from his right eye and continued, "As it turned out Mrs Bellinger was not at all what I expected, she was demure, collected and very respectful of me, and my calling. To be honest, I liked her, I would go so far as to say I warmed to her. For that reason when she made her suggestion, shocking as it was, I instantly agreed. I, Fortesque Magdalen-Chalmondesleigh, agreed to be put into a trance. By a spiritualist nonetheless. To my amazement it worked, my frustrations were gone, vanished. Then she gave me a keepsake ... Here..." Forty handed Ned a collar stud.

Hove watched as Holmes twirled the bejewelled trinket in his fingers, the stone embedded in it twinkled with a delicious green light. Hove felt a little light headed, he cursed the hour, his bed was what was needed; not a gaolers cell. Ned's cough woke him from his reverie.

"May I presume, as we are here that this happy state of affairs did not endure?"

"Your presumption is correct, my desire returned all too soon I was more enflamed than ever ... And Sybil was ... More compliant. How shall I put this; in the end the apple fell from the tree of knowledge." Forty stopped, his emotions heightened by the very memory, "I was tempted beyond my reason, but it did not end there. No, as I fell under her spell I agreed to return to Mrs Bellinger's; together we returned and together we sinned. If anyone had told me such things were possible I would not have believed them, yet I found myself doing them. Now for you to understand such perversity I must explain it, for in that you will see the dangers. I must now ask if your impressionable young colleague would leave. We need to discuss this man to man."

Hove blinked and looked at Holmes expectantly, he waited for his old friend to assure the clergyman that he, Brighton, was more than up to the task. He waited for the affirmation. It never came, Ned just tapped him on the knee and said, "Step outside would you old boy, delicate situation, I will call you back in duly."

Brighton opened his mouth to protest, then changed his mind. Meekly he left, his temper burning as an unseen flame in his chest.

Once the door had shut with a resounding thud, Ned sighed.

"Now Forty old chap I possibly should not have done that, I normally never exclude Brighton from investigative interviews. I hope this encourages you to report what happened to you with some, let's say candour?"

"I am much obliged to you Holmes, as you probably realise this is very difficult for me."

"Indeed I do, but if I am to investigate I need a full disclosure of the facts, however sordid."

It was Forty's turn to sigh, almost instantly his face crumpled and tears swelled at the corners of his swollen eyes. With an apparent effort he fought back his despair. Once he recovered he placed his left hand on the table, his trembling fingers clenched a leather- bound diary. With an apparent effort Forty slid the diary towards Holmes.

"It is all detailed in here, I cannot bring myself to utter the truth."

Ned picked up the diary, it fell open on a stained page; one that had clearly been the subject of repeated examination. Holmes read.

"Sunday 12th of October 1873, Sermon on the twin virtues of truth and chastity, seemed well received. Mrs Greyson had the usual concerns about the church flowers, I assured her that even the Lord would not have thrown pure beauty from the temple, and that they were not an expression of earthy delights. I expect I shall do the same next week; just as I did last. Gave a groat from the collection plate to Mr Simms to cover the grave digging this week, another five souls less for the parish, confounded illnesses. I blame the vermin, that and of course the gin; vermin and gin, a potent combination.

Pleased to see a new member of the congregation, a most handsome woman with fine auburn hair. It was the elegantly pinned hair that I noticed first, it seemed to add a glow to the church; a glow that reached out to my lonely pulpit. I found it hard to concentrate on the sermon for a long moment, and I made a mental note to acquaint myself with the lady. I felt something stir within me. Most unsuitable it was too, considering the subject of my sermon, this truth I could not speak, and it was far from chaste.

At the end of what seemed like an eternity the service ended. At last I stood at the door wishing my flock well, I watched as slowly the auburn tresses approached me through the patiently queued congregation. As I mumbled "Bless you" the muted replies were lost in the loud pounding of my heart. An instant later she stood before me a vision of loveliness she was; pale skinned, long necked and a delight of innocence personified. I knew then I had to possess her. My attention was drawn to the unsuitability of my condition by a shocked glance from my verger who stood at the far side of the vestibule. Hurriedly I made my excuses and withdrew to the sacristy, I threw water from the sacrarium on to my heated face and neck. A spasm hit me and to my eternal shame I soiled my cassock with a mighty spend.

I rested for the rest of the day, claiming I had become unwell."

Holmes flicked his eyes up from the page, he studied Forty for a second.

"Did you know the identity of this temptress on the 12th?"

"No, I knew only her form, to my shame all that happened was due to my want for it."

"I see ... She did not speak?"

"I cannot recall all I remember is her hair..."

"You mention pins, her hair was pinned."

"Why yes it was, is it important?"

"Time will tell," muttered Holmes. Ned flicked to the next page of the Diary that held an entry.

"Tuesday 14th of October 1873, Another disturbed night; I have taken the precaution of slumbering atop a towel. I cannot risk one of the servants seeing the evidence of my nightly emissions. My mind is full of her, or rather her body as I am not formally introduced to my lady. I wonder if I am bewitched, but it is impossible, I cannot think ill of her. I dress and walk to the church, alone I stand in the vestibule. I cherish the moment I saw her, closing my eyes to better recall.