Ripper Street (Edmund Reid Cold)

[Naraya]

Hello

It has been a little while since I posted anything so thought I might put up a little snippet of my latest guilty pleasure (Matthew MacFadyen) ... Dependent on how it is received, I will continue, I do have plans for my delectable Inspector Reid - Do let me know what you think?!

So without further ado... Ladies & Gentleman, I present for your reading pleasure, my very first Ripper Street attempt...

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Part 1

Prelude

“More tea, Inspector?” The ghost of a smile crossed the features of the beautiful young woman sat opposite. ‘Too beautiful for the likes of me.’ Reid thought for the umpteenth time since meeting her that afternoon. “That would be lovely, thank you” He clumsily held out the delicate willow pattern for a second cup, wincing at his inability to speak. The congestion in his head was such that he was having to carefully prepare responses that he could physically pronounce rather than risk humiliation in front of the decadent Estelle Mannering.

The ambient background noise, tinkling tea things and gentle thrum of constant conversation afforded the inspector the opportunity for an experimental sniffle. He had rather hoped he may have been able loosen a section of the stuffiness, which could only be likened to clay, that currently clogged the depths of his nasal cavities.

“Captain Jackson tells me that you are investigating a murder case, is that correct?” He was a little surprised at a young lady raising such a subject over afternoon tea, however, with little else in common to converse over, their subjects were somewhat limited. “That is correct, yes, we are, that is H division, are working such an inquiry at present.” He looked out of the window, anywhere rather than his tea companion, as embarrassment flooded him. ‘Would it be awfully rude of me to consult my watch, make an excuse and leave abruptly?’ He asked himself, as she leaned forward, the taught smile spreading genuinely at such a tasty titbit of gossip. “How thrilling? I have been known to take in a little Poe myself, such a wordsmith, so consider myself familiar with the macabre… Goodness… Bless you!” Having recognised at the last moment, the brewing of a powerful sneeze, Reid had snapped open his handkerchief just managing to stifle it heartily, much to his growing mortification.

‘Huh… ISCCCHHXXAH’

For a moment he sat hunched over, between the table and the wall, handkerchief clasped over his nose and mouth, attempting to pre-empt any further assault whilst silently willing the ground to open and swallow him. He looked up as he felt her hand rest gently on his shoulder. “Inspector? Are you quite well?”

“I do beg your pardon, my dear, I am only just emerging from the throes of a rotten head cold. I feel it was against my better judgement taking tea with you today. I would hate to think I may have put your health at risk.” He noted how both her hand and her glance lingered a little longer than polite company would allow. “Captain Jackson, Homer, did mention that you have been recently… separated, my condolences. Abandonment by ones wife tenders a shocking blow, I feel, to both ones esteem and well-being. Rest assured Inspector, no whispers of taint to your name have passed my ear. ”

He took a deep, steadying breath, her words having punctuated a place in his consciousness he hadn’t realised he’d any intention of visiting. “Ah thank you, your kindness and concern is of great comfort. These things came to pass not as recently as all that. It has been eighteen months now since Emily… Since… Well since everything happened…” He cleared his throat. “…Still, there comes a time when one needs to learn to let go.” Suddenly recognising the significance of those tiny gestures, he sent silent thanks to Jackson for insisting on their meeting.

Two Days Previously

“Reid, I swear if you don’t take the damn draught I will kill you myself.” Homer Jackson, US Military Surgeon and self-acclaimed apothecary genius irritably slid the vial across the smooth ceramic of the examination table. “No man can grumble about sickness yet do nothing to alleviate it. I am tired of your bellyaching. Take down the draught then hole yourself up at Tenter Street with a good whiskey and a decent girl. Tell Susan I said this one was on the house, stating medicinal purposes.” Ignoring him entirely, the inspector dropped his head to the edge of the table, running both hands through his thick brown hair. “He is right, not about the women, but the potion and the whiskey might do some good, that and a decent nights kip in your own bed. Sleeping here can’t be helping any?” Detective Sergeant Bennett Drake had been in his customary position, silently observing proceedings whilst leaning against the wall, habitually twirling his watch chain.

It was common knowledge at Leman Street that Detective Inspector Edmund Reid was more and more frequently utilising his office in preference to going back home at night, though usually nobody broached the subject. The relationship, however, between Inspector Reid and DS Drake was such that the personal nature could easily be overlooked. Reid was saved by answering by a wave of painful sneezes tearing from his chest.

‘Huh.. Isscchh… Huh…Hu..ISSCCHHOO!’

This time, the American was unable to control his irritability. “God damn it Reid, are you trying pass it on to the whole damn station? Can’t you just take the day, what’s left of it, and rest up?” Ironically, given his profession, Captain Jackson had very little patience when it came to the inflictions of the living, often declaring his expertise lay with those past any use of his medical prowess. Today had proven his point in kind. Much earlier that day, a girl had been dredged from the depths of the Thames, prompting immediate response from the investigative staff of H division. The timing, however, could not have been worse. The dismal February weather had taken its toll on their dedicated Inspector, who, once eventually found, had shown up at the station suffering abominably from a stinking cold with stinking temper to match.

Four hours in his company had been more than the good Captain could tolerate. As Reid’s symptoms had rapidly increased, so too had his insistence that everything was, in fact, fine and he was able to function ‘business as usual.’ Now he rendered less than useless and was clogging up good mortuary space as he rested wearily against the table.

Ignoring him completely, Reid shook his head, as though to bring himself around, then returned defiantly to the case in question. “So.. All we have been able to establish is that this girl was mandarin in origin and had died corresponding from the tremendous force of a blunt object resulting in fracture of the right temporal bone, is that correct Captain? Yet the reasoning behind her disposal in my stretch of the Thames, or in fact my part of the world, remain a complete mystery to us. How can that be so? How can such a clearly striking individual go unnoticed, even in this godforsaken meat market?”

“I dunno, Reid? Perhaps that’s a conversation you could take up with Long Susan when you wind up in one of her chambers? Whiskey and women, I plan to patent it.” He muttered, taking a long draw on a potent cigarette. Before either could respond, a sharp tap at the door heralded a rather urgent looking desk sergeant. “Begging your pardon, Sir. Dredgers have pulled in another.”

At this, Inspector Reid jumped up, staggering a little as his blood pressure dropped. “Sergeant Atherton, would you be good enough to instruct a runner to fetch Sergeant Flight back here directly? These dredgers, are they here at the station now? Drake. With me.” All thoughts of illness seemingly forgotten, the Inspector stalked from the morgue, leaving Captain Homer Jackson to his scheming. “It’s high time the good inspector was paired with a decent woman. And I know just the person to see to it.” He muttered to himself, vacantly rubbing the stubble at his throat.

[cally]

Ohhh, I really like where you are going with this! I look forward to part 2.

[AngelEyes]

Not familiar with this show, though I've seen episode trailers, but this is wonderfully written. Great characterizations. I'm intrigued to see where it goes.

[Vetinari]

Ooooh!

Delicious Inspector Reid laid low. Very fine characterisation as well. Please do continue.

[AnteatersOnParade]

I love the time-lapse! This is so well-written! Thanks for sharing, I enjoyed this a lot!

[Naraya]

Ahh thanks for the comments, you guys!

Many apologies for the long delay in replying... Life has a nasty way of getting in the way of things!

There isn't a moment to lose - Ladies & Gentlemen... My latest installment!

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The biting wind buffeted off the river bank, assaulting the crowd that had gathered along the mudflaps. The Inspector stood back from the huddle of ghoulish onlookers, gazing down at the remains with interest. “She wasn’t all that old.” Sergeant Drake commented absentmindedly, scowling at the myriad of disruption disturbing what remained of the scene. “Ten years and seven, no more I would have said.” Reid sighed, swiping at his reddened nostrils in a futile gesture of stemming the rapid flow of his worsening cold. He squinted at the corpse, as he was knocked and jostled by the swelling crowd. “This is intolerable. Constable. Remove these leeches by any means necessary, I need the immediate area clear, and that includes you Mr Best.”

He turned his attention to the reporter without looking in his vicinity. Fred Best bristled with indignation.

“Looks to me like you are not up to the job, Mr Reid. Not all that reassuring for my public, that. After all, it’s my duty to the people of this great city to provide them with the facts, and the facts are…”

“THE FACTS ARE WHAT? Please, do continue, you Mr Best appear more clued up than most. This poor girl has been dead not a pair of hours and already you are using her cruel demise to tout your gutter tripe! Your entire existence is of impediment to my Division, Mr Best. Now remove yourself from my crime scene before I have my sergeant raise his billy club to you!” Recognising momentary defeat, the newsman moved grudgingly away, promising himself retribution within the pages of the very next issue of paper.

Reid, however was nonplussed. The wintry weather had turned squally with dramatic effect, succeeding in promptly dispatching spectators, but doing nothing to ease the Inspectors peak of temper or ill health. “Have her transferred to Leman Street directly, Captain Jackson is awaiting her arr… Huh…Hu..ISSCCH.. Huh.. Huh…Hu..ISSCCHHOO!...urgh … arrival.”

Breaking off from his instruction, he turned sharply away, quickly pushing the sodden cloth of his handkerchief to his nose and mouth. The burning liquid stung at the sensitive skin of his nostrils and lips, forcing him to wince as he attempted to blow. Grating his tongue across the roof of his mouth in an attempt to ease the itch at the back of his throat, he closed his eyes briefly. He was in very bad shape indeed, and in no position to be stalking the exposed banks of the river in such horrendous weather. He deigned to return to the station, more due to the lure of Jackson’s offer of whiskey than of a wish to take stock of the situation. Still, he reasoned, only once he was warmed through he would be able to think more clearly.

Later

“You look like you are well on your way to my slab.” Jackson deadpanned, wiping his hands on an alcohol soaked rag. “You wanna get on with it so I can get back to my wife?” Embarrassed by his friend and colleague’s crassness, Bennett cleared his throat, shuffling his feet. He had every intention of insisting the Inspector returned home with him that evening, he was certain that Bella would be able to cook up something hot and suitably nourishing, she was turning into a fine example of a wife, despite her shady beginnings. Ignoring Jackson entirely, Reid pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against. “That will be all gentleman. Make yourselves available to me should developments arise.” He made to return to his office. “

Grabbing his hat, the Captain made his exit from the station as soon as the inspector’s door had clicked closed. “Leave this to me.” He growled. “Enough is more than enough!” Not ten minutes later was he seated in the parlour with his wife. “…Your intentions are admirable, Homer. I am sure, but what makes you so certain the inspector will take to it? He seems well… too sober a character to allow matchmaking on his behalf.” Captain Jackson was not perturbed. “Begging your pardon, Susan, but have you seen her? What man worth his salt wouldn’t wish to have association with her? Come on, you’re not thinking this through. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous? Perhaps laundering the good Inspector’s smalls once a week has turned you a little sweet on him?” Susan looked stunned for a moment before blustering. “That’s preposterous! Fine. On your head, be it. I will arrange a meeting with Miss Mannering, but when she knocks back his attentions, do not say I didn’t warn you!” Jackson leaned across to kiss her cheek. “You are a doll, you know that?”

Present Day

Inspector Reid eyed the street with distaste as he held the door open for Miss Mannering. Opening the door for her to step ahead of him into the icy rain seemed unrefined, rather than polite. Water cascaded down the ornate carvings of the second floor window ledges, hitting the pavement in front of the doorway in a steady stream. “Perhaps I should decline your offer to escort me back to my lodgings, it is a dreadful day…” She began, brushing a red curl from her face. “Nonsense. I spend most of my time, rain or shine, pounding these streets in pursuit of the scourge that swarm them. It would be a pleasant change to walk them for my own diversion. Please. I insist.”

Pulling up the collar of his heavy overcoat against the worst of the onslaught, he stepped into the street. The contrasting temperatures immediately had the Inspector fumbling, helplessly, for his handkerchief as soon as he hit the cold, damp air, a rally of rapid fire sneezes ripping from him in quick succession.

‘Huh.. Isscchh… Huh.. Isscchh… Huh…Hu..ISSCCHHCCHHXX … Hu.. ISSCCHHOO!’

Rather than flinch away from him, as he had expected her to do in light of the obvious glances of passers-by, Estelle Mannering reached up an immaculately gloved hand and rested it gently against his burning cheek. “Poor, Darling, Inspector. You are in a state, aren’t you? You really need to get out of this damp weather.” Their eyes met briefly. Hers dark green pools of concern, his, bright, tearful and gleaming from the fever he was developing. It should have been awkward, one of those highly irregular social faux pars, however Reid’s heart was jumping in his chest. He recognised the signs, signs he knew that if ignored now, sickness or not, the opportunity may never present itself again.

“Forgive me for being forward, but perhaps… Maybe… Should the weather be gracious enough to grant us a window, you would consider taking a turn about the park with me one afternoon? Then take tea, to warm us no doubt.” He smiled shyly, scrubbing at the pavement with the toe of his winter issue boots. If she was to knock him back, he would rather not see the look on her pretty face. “How lovely, Inspector, I would look forward to it.” He raised his gaze, meeting her eyes once again. For a moment they were silent, regarding each other. “Very well.” He muttered, unsure where to go from here, as unaccustomed as he was to arranging social events with members of the opposite sex. “Well… Er… I shall send word then. Excellent.”

As they walked towards her rooms in a smart uptown villa, Estelle linked her arm through his. She was secretly glowing inside at this most unexpected turn of events. A most respectable and trustworthy of gentlemen, a Detective Inspector, no less. Clearly strong, from the look of him, attractive with a vulnerable streak, like that of a little boy. Yes Detective Inspector Reid would do very nicely. On his part, Edmund Reid was feeling happier than he had for longer than he could remember. His earlier reservations about meeting with this woman (oh, and what a woman she was!) and then the added inconvenience of his horrendous cold, had added to his wholehearted conviction that he was on a certain path to complete humiliation. What he had encountered, however, was the striking up of a friendship with a very beautiful, intelligent and headstrong woman, whom was able to immediately see past appearances, was kind, nurturing and, above all else, wanted to see him again! Oh how the Gods must be smiling down on him this dismal and chilly afternoon!

“This is it.” She nodded to a considerable building set back from the road, a small square of fenced off garden leading to a smart black front door. “Then I will bid you good afternoon, Madam.” He reluctantly dropped his arm to his side, clenching and unclenching his hands, purely for something to do with them. To his utter astonishment, the beautiful redhead reached up on tiptoes, kissing him briefly across his sensitive lips. “Be well, Inspector.” She whispered, without pulling any further than a quarter of an inch away from his mouth. With that, she turned confidently on her heel and strode purposefully up to her front door, only glancing back for the slightest moment as she stepped inside.

Had the good Inspector not been so astounded by Estelle Mannering’s parting gesture, had his head not felt so muzzy and full from the congestion of his worsening cold, he would have recognised the crack of the flashbulb at that most impromptu of moments. Fortunately for Fred Best however, it didn’t distract from the moment and the rogue reporter smirked at the prospect of finding his front page headline after all. “Well well, well, Inspector Reid, correct me if I am wrong but that doesn’t look very much like your wife…”

TBC…?

[cally]

Oh bless him the poor thing sounds done in! Such delicious descriptions too. I look forward to more!