Julius and the Soulcatcher Read Online Free Page B

the meat cleaver, was about five foot six, maybe, but powerfully built. The other man was as tall as you.’
    ‘Did you say “orchid”?’
    ‘Yes. They were both dressed in brown. Both with billycock hats. There was something very strange about them. It’s hard to describe, it was like…like—’
    ‘Rapple and Baines,’ said Mr Flynn.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Edward Rapple and Benjamin Baines. Merchants of skullduggery. If empty graves could get up and walk they’d look like that pair. They give everyone the collywobbles and not just because of the concealed weapons they carry.’
    ‘You know them, Mr Flynn?’
    ‘Our paths have crossed once or twice. They call themselves Resurrectionists.’
    ‘Resurrectionists?’
    ‘Yes, a fancy name for body-snatchers. Although, I believe they’ve retired from that line of work now.
    ‘Er, I don’t follow.’
    ‘Since the law changed in ’29 medical students can dissect executed criminals and deceased paupers from the workhouse, so they don’t have to pay the likes of Rapple and Baines to steal fresh corpses from graveyards.’
    ‘Urgh.’
    ‘Exactly. Now they rent themselves out for villainous purposes at reasonable rates. But they still exude the stench of the grave. I think their years of manhandling cadavers have turned their minds a little. They think of the likes of you and me as the “not yet dead”.’
    A knock at the door made Julius jump. It was Mrs Mottle with a large tray of tea and crumpets.
    ‘’ere we are, gentlemen,’ she said. ‘Will you be requiring h’anything else, Mr Flynn? Kitty could do you some peppered kippers, perhaps, or a nice cheese h’omlette?’
    ‘No, thank you, Mrs Mottle, this will see us through to elevenses,’ said Mr Flynn.
    When Mrs Mottle had gone, he continued. ‘Rapple and Baines have been dealing with death and the dead for so long that I think they feel like visitors here—in the land of the living.’
    Julius bit into a crumpet. Butter slithered down his chin.
    ‘You mentioned an orchid?’ said Mr Flynn.
    ‘Yes. The odd fellow left an orchid in a pot, as a gift.’
    ‘Very obliging,’ said Mr Flynn. ‘Listen to this report in The Times . I was reading it when you came:
    ORCHIDMANIA: THE CAUSE OF MENTAL COLLAPSE?
    In the borough of Lambeth, on Wednesday evening, cries of alarm were heard from the lodgings of a gentleman by the name of Mr Charles Darwin. The landlady of the establishment found the gentleman in a state of confusion, declaring that an orchid from his collection had climbed from its pot and chased him about the room. When the gentleman could not be calmed or reasoned with, Constable Abberline from the local constabulary was sent for to take the man to nearby New Bethlem Hospital, or Bedlam as it is more commonly called.
    ‘Are you all right, Julius?’ said Mr Flynn. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
    ‘The name on the diary,’ said Julius. ‘It was Darwin.’
    Mr Flynn raised an eyebrow. ‘And now he’s lost his mind.’
    ‘From what I saw in the diary, I don’t think his mind was that clear to begin with. Do you think there’s a connection, Mr Flynn?’
    ‘Certainly—on Thursday evening a strange fella leaves a gift of an orchid in exchange for Darwin’s diary, when only the night before, this Mr Darwin fella loses his mind and accuses one of his orchids of chasing him round his room.’
    ‘Could it be Watchmaker business?’ said Julius.
    ‘Possibly. But this Constable Abberline, he’s the one to talk to first. I know him, he’s a good man. And I’d also like to examine that orchid of yours.’
    ‘Ah…’
    ‘What do you mean, “Ah”?’
    ‘That might not be possible,’ said Julius.
    Mr Flynn let the newspaper fall to his lap. ‘How so?’
    ‘The thief who pickpocketed the diary from Mr Darwin…The thing is, I think you might know her. I promised not to tell, so—’
    Mr Flynn scrunched the newspaper into a ball. ‘It was Emily, wasn’t it.’
    ‘I didn’t