Jack stepped down from the train and onto the platform. Steam billowed up around him as people rushed past, up and down the side of the trains. The air was bitter after the warmth of the first class carriage. As a porter busied himself with Jack’s bags, he stood and looked down the platform at all the people hurrying about. Jack was tall and could see clear over most of those around him. At the front of the engine, a large jet of steam plumed out and up to the sky. A small thin figure became visible as the steam rose up. The figure was dressed in a top hat, with a tailed coat and stockings. He leant casually against a cane, his hat cocked slightly to one side. Jack instantly knew that it was him, and almost made the mistake of showing his recognition. But he stopped himself, and instead walked up the platform and past the strange little man. Demontig’s eyes traced Jack up and down. Jack had advised that he would be easily recognisable, as he would have a red rose in his breast pocket. It was Sidney’s idea. As he continued into the terminal, he could hear the clip clop sound of Demontig walking behind him. He turned to look back, but Demontig was gone. He turned back again to carry on into the terminal, and as he did, a black cane slammed down onto the rail in front of him, blocking his path.
“Mr O’Malley, I presume?” came a croaky voice in a gentle eastern European accent.
Jack looked over, and came face to face with those devilish blue eyes. Demontig’s eyes sparkled, causing Jack’s stomach to dance, and his brow to sweat. It was him!
Jack had to hold himself together. He so desperately wanted to react and grab this little wretch by the throat and throttle him. It would give him a moment of satisfaction, but would also serve only to get Jack to the end of a rope. He had promised to come home safe, and so execution for murder was not on the list of things to do. He had to hold his tongue, hold his fists and follow the plan. If only he had a plan!
“Please follow me to my carriage, Mr O’Malley.”
Demontig strutted off, leaving Jack to follow behind him. The porter ran after them, dragging two large suitcases. They arrived out in the street where a grand looking carriage sat waiting for them. The black carriage was perfectly polished to a mirror-like shine, and the silver trimmings glistened in the sunshine. Jack once again came face to face with a recognisable character. An ogre like man opened the side door and flipped down the little fold away steps. He took hold of Demontig’s left hand and guided him into his seat. Then he attended to Jack’s bags. Jack peered into the back of the carriage, where Demontig sat, crossed legged, seemingly uninterested in his guest. Irritated, he finally turned to Jack and raised his eyebrows. Jack took this as a hint for him to climb in. He climbed up into the carriage and the door was slammed shut behind him.
“Don’t slam my door!” screamed Demontig, in a shrill voice. His eyes raised to ceiling.
The passage to Upminster was a long and rather awkward trip. Demontig said very little. Although Jack couldn’t think of anything worse than engaging in chit chat with this monster, he knew that he had to make this trip, and his false motives, seem genuine. He asked several questions, which were all responded to in very simple and non-committal answers. Dr Demontig was not a social creature, and his unease at close company was obvious. After several hours, they came to the edge of Upminster. Dr Demontig’s home was on the other side of the town, and so they progressed down the main street and past the old boarding house, where Jack used to live. He looked out at the building as they passed. It was now adorned with climbing vines and hanging baskets. The window frames were painted bright white and the red bricks looked fresh and almost new. Two children looked down from the old George family room window. They were laughing and pointing at the coach as it trundled past. Then, as they rounded the corner, Jack’s eye caught a glance from an old man, who sat slumped against a wall. The man had a long scar across his face and sat with an empty gin bottle in his hand. His eyelids barely open. As the old man glanced at Jack, his eyes opened wide and the two men stared straight at each other. Their gazes fixed for the whole time they could see each other. It was Jack’s father. Had he recognised him? Perhaps he had. They both shared many facial features, and Jack only wore a moustache in order to make him look different to how he had remembered his father had looked.
Jack didn’t care about making conversation anymore. He just sat, lost in thought. He was glad that he and Kate had managed to get the life that they had now. He would never want to change a thing. But he still felt a little empty that his heritage was lost forever.
A short time later, the carriage turned up into Dr Demontig’s estate. The large stone house stood proudly above the colourful gardens that surrounded it. It was late autumn and the golden shades stood impressively in all directions. The coach pulled up with Demontig’s side closest to the house’s main entrance. The door opened and Demontig climbed out first. As he left, he stopped on the fold out steps and looked back at Jack.
“My servant, Dog, will attend to your every need. The cleaners will clean after you. The cook will prepare your food, which you shall eat alone. And I will meet you to talk, tonight. For now, I am very busy and have already wasted precious time travelling to and fro this morning. Please feel free to roam the grounds, but please stick to your quarters within the house. You may use the lounge and library at your own will. Good day, Mr O’Malley.”
With that, Dr Demontig disappeared off into his mansion.
Jack followed into the house, and was met with walls lined with hundreds of paintings and thousands of objects that covered shelves and tables everywhere. It was like the possessions of ten country manor houses being crammed into just one. It was all well organised with the paintings linked together like a big jigsaw puzzle. Jack span himself around in awe as he looked at the many treasures that were on display. Dog walked in past Jack and glared at him, which Jack took as a hint for him to follow. They climbed the grand staircase in front of them, as it wound its way round to the edges of the great hallway. A pristine red carpet lined the steps, and the banister was made from highly carved black mahogany. They walked down a dark passage, which was only lit by a window at the far end. Dog stopped at the first door and opened it for Jack to enter. Inside, stood a rather lavish bedroom, once again filled with paintings and ornaments. In the centre of the room stood a large black four poster bed. This was the grandest room Jack had ever been into and was even fitted with a small water closet. If it hadn’t have belonged to Dr Demontig, Jack would have been concerned about touching and potentially damaging anything. A pot of hot tea was on the desk, and several newspapers were laid out for him to read. One of the walls in the room was filled with leather bound books. Jack scanned them and could see many famous titles from various wonderful writers. Dog dropped the cases onto the floor, and without a word, exited out through the door, closing it behind him.
Jack spent most of the rest of the day reading in his room. At tea time there was knock at the door, and a maid entered. She carried a large silver tray, which had a fine meal of venison with winter vegetables. A bottle of wine was also placed before Jack, but he left it unopened. Along with his meal, Jack noted a small envelope which had also been delivered on the tray. It was addressed to him. He opened the envelope and pulled out a small note from within. The note read:
Mr O’Malley. I will not be meeting with you tonight. I am unwell, and so will retire to bed early. You will therefore have to stay an extra day so that we may discuss business tomorrow. Please make yourself comfortable and accept my deepest apologies. Dr Demontig.
Jack was somewhat relieved to not be meeting Demontig again that day. He would have longer in the house to look about. Hopefully, if Demontig had gone to bed, he would be able to do a little snooping now. He finished his meal and then went to have a look around the house. He quietly opened the bedroom door and peered out into the corridor. He saw a large hunched figure sat on a chair in the dark. It was Dog. He was either waiting attentively to help with Jack’s every need, or he was sent to keep watch on him. Either way, Jack wasn’t going to get much spying done.
Jack returned to his room, and resigned himself to the thought that the day was as good as over. Hopefully, the morning would bring more opportunities for answers. Jack continued to read until it became late. He readied himself for bed and then retired for the evening.
The following morning, Jack was awoken by another knock at the door. The maid had brought his breakfast, once again on a large silver tray. She recovered the finished meal from the night before and left without saying a word. On the tray, next to his breakfast, was another little envelope with a note inside. It read:
Mr O’Malley. I will be gone for the morning, as I have a pressing matter to deal with. Please await my return, when we will share a business lunch. Please make yourself comfortable and accept my deepest apologies. Dr Demontig.
Jack sprung from his bed, and dashed to the window. His room overlooked the main approach to the house, and as he looked out, he could see Dr Demontig’s black carriage trundling out of view and onto the main road. This was his chance. Dog would be driving the coach, and so Jack was left all alone. Or at least, unwatched. He hurriedly pulled his clothes on and made his way out into the corridor. There were still some servants within the house, but all seemed quiet at that moment in time. Jack continued along the corridor and across the top of the great staircase and down a brightly lit passage way.
“Stop!” cried Dr Demontig.
The carriage ground to a halt.
“I have left my purse in my study. We will have to go back. Turn us around, Dog. Quickly.”
Jack opened a number of doors. Each entered into bedrooms much like his own. They were highly decorated and grand, but were obviously unused. He continued along the wing and found nothing. He returned back to the grand staircase and noticed a carved oak door, almost completely concealed by a drape. He pulled the drape to one side and opened the door. In front of him lay another corridor. This one was much narrower, but was regaled in splendour that left the rest of the house looking practically dull. The walls were lined with gold leaf castings and the carpet was purple velvet. Small but intricate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and each doorway was gold and silver in colour. Jack started to make his way along. He was venturing deep into Dr Demontig’s private quarters.
Outside, Demontig’s carriage pulled up to the front entrance and Dog made his way round to open the door for his master. Demontig ducked as he stepped out onto the fold out steps. He stepped down onto the gravel and looked up at Jack’s window, as he repositioned his top hat upon his head. The curtains to his guest’s room were still drawn.
Jack opened one of the doors and found himself in what appeared to be Demontig’s study. There was a large desk stood in the middle of the room. The room’s decorations continued in the same vain as the rest of Demontig’s quarters. Gold and silver lined with grotesquely lavish possessions crammed in. On the desk stood a beautifully carved wooden chest. It was only relatively small in size, but stood out due it being seemingly rather crude for Demontig’s taste. Jack opened it. A broad smile cunningly drew itself across his face. As he leant in close, his arm nudged against a small bowl containing little golden balls. The bowl wobbled. Jack grabbed for it, but the bowl tipped to the ground, sending the balls all over the floor. Jack dropped to his knees and quickly began scooping them up into his hands.
Demontig climbed the great staircase. He walked with a quick pace, as he was already late for his engagement. He stopped at the top of the stairs and peered down the corridor where his guest was presumably still in bed. He listened carefully for any sound, but he heard nothing. He pulled the drape aside and entered into his private quarters.
Jack frantically tried to gather all of the balls. They had been strewn across the whole of the study floor, and were proving tricky to pick up with his fingers. Jack stopped. He thought to himself, what is the rush? Demontig would be gone for some time yet. He had plenty of time to tidy things up.
Dr Demontig walked down the corridor and stopped outside of his study door. Demontig placed his ear to the door and listened in. He had thought he had heard a noise. He gently turned the door handle, and braced himself. Quietly, he pushed the door open. His study was empty. He walked over to his desk and opened one of the drawers. He picked out his purse and turned to leave. As he did, he stopped. His eyes attracted to the floor. He bent down and picked up one of the small golden balls. “Dog,” he hissed, and then dropped the ball into the bowl and left.