Read Ministry Protocol: Thrilling Tales of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences Page 19
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Flowerdew’s eyes flicked open. He realised that it must be late in the day based on the heat around him. A foggy recollection came to him of wandering over to the mess hall for hot water and maybe some rum to dress his wounds. He remembered taking out his case journal, recording the night’s events. Somehow he pulled himself into bed, and passed out.
He redressed his wounds using some of Riches’ sheets, then walked around camp asking about this woman in white, but no one would talk to him. Even Riches’ notes yielded nothing. Flowerdew screwed his eyes shut, pushing his spectacles up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. He only needed them for reading, and with all he had done today, his bridge was raw.
There was a light knock at the door. “Sir, dinnerz time is almost done. Mr. Bates said to get you before you miss all the bouffe,” Cricket said from the doorway.
“Thank you, Cricket,” he said as he stood up and closed his books. Stretching, he grabbed his gun belt and headed for the door. “Cricket, have you ever heard any stories of a woman in white or a weeping woman?”
“La Llorona? I know this story. She killed herself a hundred years ago. My grandpapa tellz me not to walk on riverbank alone at night because of her. She snatchez little children because she drowned her own.”
“Why did she drown her children?”
“To be with a gentleman who rejects her because of her family,” Cricket said like it was common knowledge.
“A cautionary tale, Cricket, but not sure it fits the bill, as it were. Whatever she is, she has been attacking men, not children,” Flowerdew replied with disappointment.
“She takes drunk men too, comes up to them while they are staggering home and asks if she is beautiful.” Flowerdew held his breath, and then heard his confirmation. “When they reply, she pulls away hair to reveal gruesome face. Makes men die. Sometimes they don’t die, they get very, very sick.”
“We noticed the disappearances seemed to get a lot worse when we got our shipments in,” Bates had said to him. “The men tend to be a little heavy handed with the rum the first few nights.”
“Oh no, Cricket, we have to go,” Flowerdew said as he secured his belt and gathered up the two lodestone resonators. Dashing out the door with Cricket in tow, he made a break for the mess hall. As he approached, he noticed that for the night, it was pretty quiet. Darting inside, he looked around and saw that the mess hall, with the exception of a few sitting in groups or passed out across tables, was empty. Dinner was already over.
“Cricket, I need your help. Can you summon up your courage for Her Majesty the Queen and the good men here?”
Wide-eyed, the boy nodded.
“Good lad. Come with me down to the river. We will need to wait for La Llorona tonight. Take this.” He handed him one of the lodestone resonators. “This is a communications device. Hold down this button and do not touch anything else. It will take your voice right into mine.” He held up the other lodestone resonator. “If you see anything, let me know. We have to hurry before another person gets killed.”
Grabbing a pair of lamps from the mess hall, they jetted for the river. Once at the bank, Flowerdew pointed further down the river and said to Cricket, “Remember, push the button and I will come running.” He put a hand on the lad’s shoulder, then lit the flame. “Be brave, lad.”