The Benthic Times

“A bargain,” said Mr Copperwaite to his lawyer, Mr Nore. “That’s what they said. A bargain.”

“Indeed it was Mr Copperwaite,” said Nore, straining to hear over the noise of machinery, “however, the investigators were successful and found the source of the contamination. As it stands now, the nearby village is fully aware of the cause of the disturbances and the legal heir no longer feels the urge to sell. As a consequence the house is no longer on the market.”

“What about the land,” said Copperwaite, “Maybe the new lord and master will need a few quid for his crumbling house.”

“I gather the new owner is less than enthusiastic about selling the land, especially in light of the industrial use you have proposed,” said Nore. “Again, the investigators seem to have impressed upon him the significance of this point.”

“Well, well, well, the idiot Jennings finally managed to solve something,” said Copperwaite. “He were bloody useless for me in Manchester. Gave me some cock and bull story about a mesmerist. Lillian woke up of her own accord, so I sent him packing.”

“Is… that why you hired him again?” said Nore.

Copperwaite looked briefly puzzled.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “I was rather hoping he’d make a hash of things again, convince everyone there was a ghost or some such nonsense and then we could really have got the price down.”

“Shame that rather backfired then,” said Nore.

Copperwaite shrugged.

“Next time,” he said. “The march of progress can’t be stopped by these old fools.”

Both men fell silent and looked at the workings of the factory. Fleece went in and cloth came out. There were parts that carded the fleece, parts that spun the yarn and parts that wove the cloth. Nore saw men and boys being pulled here and there by the machines they were using. They seemed exhausted trying to keep up.

“Who exactly runs this?” said Nore. “Is it the people or the machines?”

“Bit of both,” said Copperwaite. “If they can’t keep up with the machines they’re out. It’s good for business, keeps the lazy beggars on their toes. Otherwise they’d just sit around getting drunk. It’s helping the community, really.”

“But how can you stand the noise,” said Nore. “That sound would drive me crazy,”

“That sound is the future,” said Copperwaite. “That is the sound of money being made. I like that sound. It helps me think.”

“Like the idea you had about Sir Jennings?” said Nore.

“Watch it Nore,” said Copperwaite. “Plenty more lawyers in the sea.”

“What do you call this thing anyway,” said Nore unfazed.

“This,” said Copperwaite with pride. “This is the Spinner.”

Sir John and Marie walked into the kitchen. Lord Arlington was standing there, looking more composed than they had seen him.

“Sir John,” he said, “I’m afraid I don’t have a wife.”

“Indeed,” said Sir John. “As we knew from the start. There was an imposter in your house.”

“Another phantasm!” said Lord Arlington. “Of course, they were wily creatures, but you stopped them Sir John. How?”

Sir John walked with Marie to where the broken pipe was. 

“It was here, wasn’t it, where you argued,” said Sir John.

Lord Arlington kept a little distance and nodded.

“This was where the expert you had hired explained the situation. The inbound gas pipe for the ovens was being polluted with ethylene, which occurs naturally on your lands, but deep underground. The gas pipes were porous, and were allowing the ethylene to seep in,” said Sir John.

“Yes! Yes, that’s right,” said Lord Arlington. “It’s clearer now. The gas was affecting the staff, making them hallucinate.”

“The scientist wished to exploit this gas, but you refused… Am I right?” said Sir John.

“Indeed, there was an argument. He said there was great profit to be made, and I said all I wanted was for my house to be safe to live and work in. I didn’t want the money,” said Lord Arlington.

“Can you remember what happened then,” said Sir John, gently, “at the end of the argument?”

Lord Arlington looked confused for a moment, then looked sad.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” he said.

“I’m sorry Lord Arlington, but it’s true. That was our third mystery. This scientist ripped out a piece of the piping, fully releasing the ethylene into the house. He hit you over the head and you died. It was in the newspapers “Lord Arlington murdered. Police accuse Professor Plum with the lead piping in the kitchen.”

A tear ran down Lord Arlington’s face.

“Then, why am I here?” he said quietly.

“The sudden release of gas was catastrophic,” said Sir John. “The household was driven to wild hallucinations and abandoned the house. The only heir was a long distant cousin, who was afraid of the stories. He put the house up for sale. I… imagine you felt the need to stay, so it wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“Mon cher,” said Marie. “I have to ask, how did this gas affect him if he was a ghost?”

“It didn’t,” said Sir John. “He was reacting to the people around him. As a phantasm himself, he thought their hallucinatory reality was true. But now, Lord Arlington, the gas is stopped and the hallucinations will go. People can return to the house.”

Lord Arlington looked at the couple.

“So,” he said, “now those greedy developers won’t get the house. Because of you.”

Like his fictitious wife, he started to fade.

“Thank you,” he said and disappeared.

Marie smiled at her husband.

“That was well done,” she said.

“Three mysteries in one,” said Sir John. “A bargain.”

Sir John saw the knives, forks, spoons, pot and pans hang momentarily in the air. He held his breath.

“Easier than I thought,” he muttered and then the murderous utensils flew towards him. Reflexively he braced for impact, closed his eyes and felt…

nothing

nothing at all

am i…dead? 

all senses shut down?

Sir John opened his eyes and saw the horrible business of the cutlery. He shut his eyes in terror and…

nothing 

again 

it’s not real 

like I thought – it’s all an hallucination

Behind him he could hear Lord Arlington gibber in terror, but all he could do was laugh and open his eyes to see…

right

best not look

best to navigate the kitchen blind 

Sir John wondered briefly if he could remember what the kitchen looked like, then realised he had no idea what the kitchen really looked like.

better be careful even if the dangers are phantasms

just my luck to trip over a real hole in the ground

but how to?

ah!

“Lord Arlington,” said Sir John. “I wonder if you could tell me where exactly you had the argument with the professor.”

“How…how are you alive man,” shrieked Lord Arlington, “with all that damage?”

Sir John felt a spasm of terror, frightened he had deluded himself and was even now…

stop that!

all is fine

“That’s not terribly helpful, Lord Arlington,” said Sir John. “The direction if you will.”

“It’s straight in front of you to the sink, then left a while until you get to the door,” said Lord Arlington.

Sir John walked forward, eyes closed until he found the sink. It was stone cold. He gingerly walked along the kitchen surface, careful not to touch a hot oven. In the end he found the oven – cold too.

“It was there!” called out Lord Arlington. “Below.”

Sir John kneeled down and felt around. He found a broken pipe, and a little further along another pipe. A middle section had been ripped out it seemed. The end nearest the door was emitting a draught.

wish phlebotomus was here he’d know about this mechanical stuff

how do I stop it?

Sir John listened and heard a hissing noise. A sudden terror gripped him.

that’s the hissing of angry knives

they’re coming for me

stop that man – knives don’t hiss

gas hisses

He felt around the hissing pipe, the one closest to the door. His mind was full of…

knives turning into snakes, sharp and hissing and then he realised turning yes there must be a way and he felt a wheel and yes this must be it and the wheel felt cold like a snake but it wasn’t a snake it was metal and it turned and he turned it right and finally

no hiss

no gas

Sir John opened his eyes and saw a dirty kitchen, devoid of use with utensils safely tucked away.

“Well,” he said. “That’s one mystery solved. Now if you forgive me, I’d better go and see how my wife is getting on with yours.”

Sir John left the room and Lord Arlington noticed Sir John was only shaking a little.

“My wife?” said Lord Arlington.

The two men ran into the kitchen and looked around. They saw sharp knives, piercing forks, heavy spoons, large pots and frying pans. Stoves were lit and burning, with huge pots of boiling water on them. The ovens were similarly on fire, with hot trays inside.

“Heaven forbid they could have met in the lounge or the dining room,” whispered Sir John to himself.

Lord Arlington started gibbering in fear. Sir John looked around for something that looked like it might be safe, should the various objects decide to become animate. He sidled over to a pantry that seemed to contain nothing sharp or burning.

“Let’s move over here,” said Sir John calmly and took the panicking lord’s arm.

The two went into the pantry and Sir John slowly and carefully shut the door.

“Now that I think of it, why were you here and not in, say, the lounge?” said Sir John. On cue, one of the heavy spoons began stirring some extremely hot soup.

“It was here,” said Lord Arlington.

“Indeed,” said Sir John, “but why was it here?”

Lord Arlington looked perplexed.

“Why did you meet here?” said Sir John.

“Because it was here,” said Lord Arlington.

Sir John opened his mouth to speak when a penny dropped.

“What is it?” said Sir John.

“That,” said Lord Arlington, pointing to the oven nearest the door.

Many spoons were now stirring in pots, and knives and forks were rattling. The ovens seemed to be a little warmer too.

“The oven?” said Sir John.

“No, no,” said Lord Arlington. ‘The gas. It came in there. He found it.”

There was definite movement now throughout the kitchen. Knives and forks lined up on the surfaces like an army.

“The… scientist?” said Sir John. 

“Yes,” said Lord Arlington, “The purple Professor… he found it in the garden and said it came in there. Made the servants ill and insane and they left. But he said it was good, it was under the house. We could sell it and be rich.”

“But… you disagreed,” said Sir John. 

“I didn’t need money, and the house has been in the family for generations. I just wanted the servants to be well, to be happy.”

“What happened when you said no?” said Sir John.

“There was an argument… there was… I don’t know,” said Lord Arlington. “But wait, that was just before… they came.”

“The uncanny?” said Sir John and Lord Arlington nodded. “Maybe that’s why they wanted you out of the house, to get this gas.”

Lord Arlington’s face shone. The kitchen fell silent.

“You’re right! You’re right!” said Lord Arlington. “That’s what they want.”

There was a smashing sound on the door as if knives, forks, spoons, pots, pans and burning trays were crashing into it. Lord Arlington screamed.

“We’re done for!” he said. “Trapped like rats!”

“Actually,” said Sir John calmly, “I think not. I think not at all.”

Sir John pushed open the pantry door.

“What are you doing, man?” said Lord Arlington.

“Facing my fears,” said Sir John and walked into a maelstrom of spinning knives, jabbing forks, banging spoons and flying pots and pans of boiling water.

“Do you have some family that could help?” said Marie to Lady Arlington.

“Ah,” Lady Arlington smiled wanly. “My family. We have never truly been a close family. I was really only supposed to get married, to someone rich naturally, and quit the house. There was never any idea I might return or need help or even… affection.”

She dabbed her eyes lightly before continuing.

“You probably can’t imagine what that’s like,” Lady Arlington said. “I imagine you come from some marvellous, sprawling family, forever in each other’s pockets.”

Marie looked down.

“Actually my family is rather small,” Marie said. “For some time very small, I rather lost touch with my mother and only recently found her.”

“Well you see, we are the same then, you and I,” said Lady Arlington. “Fish out of water, detached from our birthplace and separated from our family. I suppose I should be grateful I’m in my own country. Do you miss France much? London isn’t a patch on Paris I imagine.”

“I… well my home is here,” said Marie, a little hesitantly. “My husband is here.”

“Yes, but surely you must miss it. Maybe you could persuade Sir John to go back. Has he been there?” said Lady Arlington.

“Yes, he lived in Paris. We met there…” started Marie.

“Well there you go!” said Lady Arlington. “Convince him to go back and you can be home again. You can have what I don’t have…”

Lady Arlington dabbed her eyes again a little.

“I do wish I could ring for tea,” she said. “Have you been home recently?”

“We went to Paris last year,” said Marie.

“I’ll bet that was lovely,” said Lady Arlington. “Nice to be home and with your own people. Did you meet with your mother? Of course you did.”

“Actually, that was when I found her,” said Marie, looking down.

“Well, then that’s a sign you should go back,” said Lady Arlington. “Why be like me, separated from your home.”

Marie looked up.

“Isn’t this your home?” she said.

Lady Arlington winced a little.

“It was…” she said and dabbed her eyes again.” It was, I suppose, when Lord Arlington was well and we had servants and society. Now, I have nothing but an empty house and a deranged husband.”

Lady Arlington fixed Marie a stare.

“You see now how important it is to have people around you, people who know you and you can trust. Do you have people like that?” she said.

“I… we have friends,” said Marie. “Our maid seems very loyal.”

“Pfff…” said Lady Arlington. “These people go in a shot when trouble comes. No, you need family. Only family will help you.”

Marie looked downcast and Lady Arlington studied her carefully.

“I’m sorry my dear,” she said, “if I rather hit a nerve. I imagine your husband is much more… robust than mine. All the better to take him with you. Go back home.”

Marie looked up and a tear seemed to be forming in the corner of her eye.

“Here you go my dear,” said Lady Arlington, passing over a handkerchief. “I have a spare.”

Painting in Background by Mary Ramsey Pichette

Sir John looked around the room. It was indeed a games room with a billiards table in the middle. Around the edges of the room were some racks with cues and there was a globe on wheels. Lord Arlington was gibbering.

“Seems normal enough,” said Sir John warily.

The globe rolled towards them and the top opened. Inside were bottles of spirits and glasses. Lord Arlington’s gibbering grew more intense. Sir John picked up a bottle of whisky and looked at it quizzically.

“Seems your guests aren’t so terrible,” said Sir John.

“Don’t drink it!” said Lord Arlington. “It’s poison.”

“Well it’s not one of the premier names, but I think you can be too picky about these things,” said Sir John. 

He looked back at the bottle in his hands. It had a skull and crossbones on it now. Sir John put it back gently.

“Earlier,” said Sir John, “you said it was obvious why these… phenomenon wanted you to leave. But I don’t think it is. At least not to me.”

“They want it, the house,” said Lord Arlington. “For themselves.”

“But why?” said Sir John. “What do they want with it?”

Lord Arlington gibbered some more then and pointed at the cues. They were rattling in the racks.

“That can’t be good,” said Sir John. “Funny how this keeps happening when I ask you questions.”

The cues all jumped off the rack in unison and started hopping around the room. At the same time the balls on the table began bouncing lightly. Then one flew off the table, straight at the two men. Sir John moved to the left and a second ball flew at him. He grabbed Lord Arlington and dragged him under the billiards table. There was just enough space under for them to fit. Around them they could see the base of cues hopping all over and balls flying about. Sir John looked to see where the door was.

“Why do they want the house, Lord Arlington?” said Sir John.

At this point all the cues stopped hopping.

“They want to use…” whispered Lord Arlington. He screwed up his face and looked confused. “They want to use…”

His answer was drowned out by all the cues banging on the table and the balls bouncing violently on the top.

“They want me to not know, that’s for sure,” said Sir John. “I’m just going to do something, and then I have a little escape plan.”

Sir John tried on his goggles and then did something with the cryptozoetropometer. Then he scrabbled to each corner of the table.

“Hmm, as I thought,” he said. “Ok, Lord Arlington, we’re going to get out of here now. Press up with your back and we’ll walk with the table to the door. And if we’re really lucky, the door will open out.”

“But it must weigh a tonne,” said Lord Arlington.

“Yes, but it has wheels,” said Sir John. “Which I have just unlocked.”

The two men slowly moved the table in the direction of the door. The cues and balls grew more frantic as they did. When they got to the door, Sir John gave it a push. It didn’t move.

“It’s locked! We’re doomed!” said Lord Arlington.

“I have a little device which will help,” said Sir John. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small silver box.

“Bosch safety lighter,” said Sir John, who flicked it open and pushed it to the door. “Keep to the back of the table.” 

Seconds later it exploded and the door fell open. Sir John and Lord Arlington ran out of the room.

Background Painting by Mary Ramsey Pichette