A Traitor in Footman’s Livery

Current Day: August 19, 1844 at 9:41 p.m.

The footman carries out his duties with extra care. He walks quietly refilling goblets and presenting cigars to the three middle-aged men sitting in the card room at his Lord’s London residence. The Lord is dressed in his finest frockcoat and breeches, with a carefully tied cravat at his throat. The other two men, equally turned out, are friends from the days when his Lord attended school at Eton College. They have remained close cohorts over the years, amassing power and wealth through investment schemes and sometimes shady business deals, always knowing the other fellows would have their backs.

The footman bides his time until the butler is asked to retrieve another bottle of the best wine from the cellar, leaving him alone to care for the gentlemen. After a couple of minutes, the footman walks over to the sideboard and carefully lifts a heavy silver platter. Then walking back to stand between two of the men, he swings the tray crashing fatally into the side of a man’s head. The first man, Marquess Nolan Wright flies off his chair and falls to the floor below, appendages crumpling in unnatural positions. Then before the other man sitting adjacent can react, the footman swings the opposite way, striking the sitting man in the forehead. The second man, Viscount Irving Hart flies backwards, toppling over his chair and falls into a pedestal featuring an expensive vase filled with flowers. Once all the various items finish falling to the floor, nothing moves afterwards.

The third man stumbles out of his chair as the footman, now splattered with small pinpricks of blood from the first two attacks, turns toward him. Marquess Robert Corbold turns to run towards the nearest exit, but the younger footman drops the platter and jumps across the table, using manic determination to reach the older man. The two men crash to the floor, wrestling with a fearful energy. A pewter candle holder within reach of the footman, does the job to ensure the third man feels death’s cold hand. Then the footman stands, smothers a small flame from a toppled candle and hobbles out of the room’s south door towards the servant's area.

The other household staff come running in from the east wing where they have been working in the kitchen and gasp in horror. A few seconds to assess the scene is all that is needed for the butler to send one of the kitchen lads running for a constable. Those remaining look upon the most horrific crime scene of the decade.

Twenty-two years earlier

A woman asleep in her bed suddenly awakened to a spreading pool of water and blood, and she began to scream.

Five years earlier

Sergent Bennet was having a pint after hours with his collogues from the Metropolitan Police. What started as an investigation into a small thievery ring turned into the dismantling of a large criminal organization. Bennet was at the head of the team that brought down the criminal enterprise. Eyes shining, his face was glowing with pride and vitality.

“You’ll likely receive a promotion after this.” said one of his fellow sergeants. Bennet felt a smile pass his lips as he raised the pint in grateful acknowledgement of the prediction, before taking a large swallow.

Current Day: August 19, 1844 at 11:32 p.m.

Investigator Bennet tiredly shuffles into Lord Corbold’s card room to find it in a gruesome state. He takes a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket and uses it to wipe his nose. Day three of his head cold has left him feeling drained and all he wants to do is go home to his bed.

He walks over to take in the state of each of the three bodies. So many questions run through his mind, the foremost being, why kill all three men? Was only one man the actual target and the other two collateral damage? Four constables, two sergeants, and himself are at the residence currently trying to get the scene in hand. Inspector Bennet proceeds slowly taking in every detail he can while occasionally mopping his nose. Not long after, the coroner enters the room. The two men greet each other before the coroner gets to work.

Investigator Bennet casually watches, while also imagining the scene as it might have been. The scattered playing cards and coins around the upended table suggests the men had been involved in a card game. He also notices a gold fob watch, a jeweled lapel pin, and various other personal effects scattered upon the floor. These men are well-known members of the peerage, Bennet thinks. What motive could one person have against three such powerful individuals? Was it madness? Revenge? A serial killer? Bennet feels a chill on his spine as this last thought circles in his brain. He can’t even begin to imagine the fearful consequences such a scenario would have on the public.

As he ponders, two more constables enter the room with sheets and the coroner begins directing all available men to help him wrap the bodies so they can be removed to the morgue. Inspector Bennet gives his nose a forceful blow to clear it out as best he can before following a constable downstairs to the kitchen where the staff await him to be interviewed.

Nineteen years earlier

A small boy entered the room he shared with his mother. He knew he needed to be quiet to avoid waking her because she was sick often and needed more sleep than others. He quietly opened the bottom drawer and removed a little cloth sack from under some folded clothing. He tipped it over and onto his palm fell a gold pin. He liked to run his fingers over the engraved shapes divided by three sections. The shape in the top left corner was a funny three-petal figure, like a plant. The top right corner held the boy's favorite shape which looked like a fierce lion. On the bottom were three flowers. In the center was a red jewel.

Once he discovered it, the boy could not help sneaking in occasionally to look at and touch the pin. Suddenly his mother was standing over him with the angriest expression he’d ever seen on her face. She grabbed the pin from his hand and as he backed away from her, she told him to never touch the pin again as it belonged to a monster. A monster that looked just like he did. With that pronouncement, the boy ran from the room and when he saw his mother next, they didn’t speak about the incident, nor did they, for as long as she lived.

Current Day: August 19, 1844 at 12:59 a.m.

Investigator Bennet is finally done interviewing the staff. It took a while to get a statement from the cook because of her tendency to begin crying beyond her ability to speak for several minutes. But Bennet is surprised to note the majority of the staff, although displaying shock and revulsion for the events of the night, do not show any remorse. Any sorrowful feelings he observed came from concern for their employment, or the lack thereof in the near future. It appears no love is lost for Lord Corbold.

As he pulls out his handkerchief once again, he is glad that it appears the case will be a simple one. The butler has declared the killer is a footman by the name of Ernst Kelly. Bennet just needs to find the man and discover a motive for the crime. Before he leaves, the investigator is led to Kelly’s room. It is plain to see that Kelly stopped here to grab a few things before running away. The closet door is partially open and some clothing spills out. His simple bedstead with its straw tick mattress is hanging crookedly, partially off its ropes. Unfortunately, Bennet does not see any of Kelly’s personal belongings; he had hoped to find a clue to the reason for the murders. However, he is confident an investigation into Kelly’s background will likely turn up family whom he may be hiding with. Knowing the high-profile nature of the crime and the expectations of those in power, Bennet is aware the case needs to be solved quickly.

Current Day: August 23, 1844 at 1:20 p.m.

“Kelly’s family are all dead” Investigator Bennet reports to his superior, Superintendent Credge who is pacing behind his desk. It had been an unpleasant four days for the entire police department.

Investigator Bennet is certain Lady Luck has left him utterly alone, even before the night of the murders. My misfortune most assuredly started with this blasted cold, he thinks to himself, remembering his annoying, lingering cough as well.

Perhaps, Bennet ponders, Lady Luck has been usurped by Countess Calamity, or...and here he pauses for a moment to think, ...Duchess Disaster! He chuckles softly to himself, delighted by his unexpected witticism. The combination of lack of sleep and tremendous pressure are undoubtably contributing to his tangential thoughts. But realizing that the Superintendent is staring at him in consternation, Bennet tries to bring his thoughts back on track to the interview at hand.

“I’ve spent the past four days tracking down Ernst Kelly’s relatives through public records.” Investigator Bennet tells his superior. “His mother, Lissie Kelly died when she was only thirty years old, eleven years ago. His grandmother died three years ago, and his grandfather who was a clerk at a shipping office passed just ten months ago. There’s no mention of a father to be found anywhere.” He pauses to stifle a cough and sip from a cup of tea. “We found the home where Kelly lived until last year but after the grandfather died, the house was sold to pay debtors and Kelly was left to his own support with little money to speak of. It appears he walked away from his old life at the age of 21 and started a new life as a footman in the home of Marquess Corbold.”

“So you have no idea who Kelly’s father is?” inquires Superintendent Credge.

“The only clue we got was from a Mrs. Price who lived near the family for decades.” replies Investigator Bennet. “She knew Kelly all his life and she remembered one time when he was young commenting that his father was a ‘very bad man,’ however she didn’t possess any more information than that. The mother was never married to father, the old woman insisted upon that at least. It was quite the scandal in the neighborhood, casting a long shadow that the was family was never able to fully move beyond.”

“It’s possible Ernst Kelly was the result of an assault.” Superintendent Credge says thoughtfully. “Have someone go through old records to see if it was reported; we need more information on our killer.”

Investigator Bennet takes another swallow of tea and then shakes his head. “From the neighbor’s comments, I doubt any report was filed. The family seemed to want to keep it as quiet as possible.”

“In that case, what steps do you intend to take next?” inquires Superintendent Credge. “You’re still lacking a motive for the murders, and the press is making up one crazy theory after another.”

Bennet clears his throat. “I’m going to return and interview the serving staff at the Marquess’s house. They’ve had a few days to process everything and I am hoping they’ll be able to give me more information about Kelly’s daily activities and character.”

“Do it now.” warns Superintendent Credge. “The pressure to solve these murders is growing by the day. This case is being watched by the most powerful men in this county and we must have something definitive to report soon; our jobs depend on it.”

Twenty-three years earlier

Just four more streets and she’d be home safe with her parents, thought Lissie. She disliked being sent out on these nighttime errands but as an only child, and with her father’s health responding negatively to the damp night airs more frequently, she understood why he asked her to run this errand. It had been discovered late in the day that her father had run out of dried Mullein leaves, which he added to his tea to help his lungs. Lissie knew she’d been sent because the herbalist looked kindly on her, and thus it fell to her to ask for the favor to fill the special request after hours.

Hurrying home with the leaves wrapped in paper and tucked into her pocket, Lissie was sorry to see the lamplighters were only partially done with their work in this area. She considered taking Broadmoor Street where the brothel as well as the pub were located because it was always lit first, as well as its adjoining streets. However, she normally avoided Broadmoor at this time of night as the men going in and out of those establishments could be nasty when drunk. She chose instead to take a shortcut down a dark street, hoping she’d be able to traverse it unopposed. However, she was mere feet away from the trio of young men standing in the shadows of the alleyway before she saw them. She put her head down and walked even faster, but one man stepped out into her path blocking her forward progress.

“Hello, my dear.” he slurred, obviously drunk. “It’s very dark and you appear to be on your own. Would you like an escort?” His friends nearby guffawed at that offer.

Lissie was surprised by the man’s voice; it was cultured with refined accents. Why was a toff in her area of town? She wondered if the rumor of a hidden gaming hell somewhere in the area was the reason for his unexpected presence.

Lissie tried to sidestep the man while asking him to “please let her get home to her sick father.” However, it seemed the sound of her trembling voice only intensified his jeering, as well as pulled in the other two men to stand around her, effectively pinning her in. Her fear increased when they laughed at her “excuse” for wanting to leave their company. As one man reached out to stroke a curl of her hair, she threw an elbow into the man in front of her and tried to run around him, but her strength was no match for his. He grabbed onto her arm and in desperation she tried a final time to beg for her release. The men only laughed and berated her. As a last resort, she used a string of invectives that no lady should know, but that she had overheard her drunken neighbor shout on more than one occasion. The men went quiet for a few seconds and hope flared in her breast that she has shocked them into letting her go. However, the man behind her put his hands around her mouth and squeezed her lips into a pucker before turning her face to his.

“Such a pretty mouth” he murmured, “should never utter such naughty words.” At the use of the word “naughty,” it felt as if the air around her was suddenly charged and she managed to get out a half-mangled scream before she was forced by all three men backwards into an alley. She wildly swung her arms at her attackers hoping to do damage with her fingernails before her hands were seized and wrenched behind her. She had only a second to feel something metal with a sharp point pressing into her palm before her skirts were wrenched up around her waist. With one large male hand clamped over her mouth muffling her sobs, she was forced to endure the most horrific experience of her life. When she staggered home over an hour later, clothes ripped and dirty, bleeding in several places, she held in her hand a lapel pin with a ruby inset, showing the coat of arms from Eton College.

Eleven months earlier

Ernst Kelly stood looking down at his grandfather’s grave where he’d been laid to rest three days earlier. Grandfather was buried beside Ernst’s grandmother and mother, leaving him utterly alone in the world. He’d never felt completely accepted by his family, although he knew he was loved on some level. They cared for his needs, giving him food, clothing, and some education. But every time his family looked at him, it was with some measure of sadness in their eyes, especially as he aged and grew into his features as a man.

His mother died when he was ten years old. Her health had not been good since the day he was born owing to some complications during his delivery. He wasn’t told details, only that his mother had nearly died during his birth and had failed to recover her vitality afterwards, most likely leading to her early death. His grandparents, after losing their only child had become a bit warmer towards him, especially when he’d begun working at the age of 13 to help support the family. However, he always felt they blamed him on some level for their daughter’s death. He’d loved these people so much, but after one particularly frank conversation with his grandfather two months ago, he had discovered the reason they had struggled to love him in return. Three men had attacked his mother, one of whom was his father, and that was how Ernst had come to be. His father didn’t know Ernst existed, but deserved to pay for the fact that he did. Yesterday, Ernst had decided upon his life’s new purpose and with a “goodbye” to his family, he left the cemetery with a new conviction.

The night Ernst was conceived, was the night his father created his own killer.

Current Day: August 25, 1844 at 5:34 p.m.

Investigator Bennet is feeling energized for the first time in days, walking quickly towards the livery stable on Wilson Street. His constable had reported less than an hour ago that a man matching the description of Ernst Kelly was working there.

It appears the information he had gotten from Lord Corbold’s staff had paid off, Bennet thinks with optimism. After he returned yesterday to interview the staff for a second time, the butler had mentioned one of the duties Kelly often volunteered for was waiting with the horses and hack when the Marquess was getting ready to go out for the night.

A second witness, a gardener had talked of how comfortable Kelly seemed around horses, talking to them and petting them like they were his friends. This led the investigator to follow a hunch that Kelly might find work at a livery and had sent dozens of officers out to inquire of local stable owners. One had returned with a possible sighting.

As Investigator Bennet walks up to the stable with three constables following behind him, he sees an unassuming young man brushing down a horse. Bennet stops not far from the man and says simply: “Ernst Kelly.” The young man freezes, then lowers the brush to his side and slowly turns around. Then to everyone’s surprise says resignedly, “I’m prepared for my fate.” and allows the officers to handcuff him. Later when Investigator Bennet interviews Kelly in preparation for the inquest, he asks him the biggest question on everyone’s mind.

“Why?”

Ernst Kelly’s confession is recorded before he is hanged for his crimes with much fanfare from both the public and the press. Investigator Bennet and Superintendent Credge are lauded for their fine work by the Police Commissioner in catching “...the most vile and black-hearted murderer as ever walked upon the land.” Investigator Bennet secretly thought otherwise.

Ernst Kelly’s confession

The men I killed raped my mother and I was conceived from one of them. She took from them on the night of her attack, a gold pin. I found out later it was a special commission: three identical pins each with a different jewel, for three friends when they graduated from college. I stumbled upon the jeweler who’d been commissioned to make the pieces when I was visiting shops and inquiring about the value of the pin my mother had taken from her attacker. He gave me the names of the pin owners. The pin I owned had a red gem in its center.

I took a job with Lord Corbold hoping to verify the existence of the other pins. The night of the card party, I discovered the other two pins being worn by two of the men sitting at the table. One had a blue gem at its center, the other had a green one, just as the jeweler described. The final man, with no pin on his lapel, was the first man to rape my mother and since I closely resemble Lord Nolan Wright, I killed him first.

I go now to the devil knowing that I sent my father to meet him first.

- Ernst Kelly