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It had been weeks.
It had been agonizing weeks since I last saw Henry - since October 7th, to be exact. The only interaction I had with him following that date was through his butler Poole. I sometimes received news from Utterson, but even he confessed he grew worried. He claimed Henry looked sickly.
He never shared anything further.
I tried picturing my fiancé alone in his laboratory, feeble. Was he pale? Could he hardly stand? Did he tremble from a fever? No matter how many questions I asked Utterson, he never provided any clear answers. I yearned to know the root of Henry’s suffering and so did his lawyer. He told me about his daily visits to his friend’s house. He never reported on anything peculiar or worrisome but, I felt like John knew something I didn’t.
I woke up early that morning. I spent two hours waiting by the window in my cotton nightgown. There was no one out there, not even the usual workers who came to turn off the lamp lights. The dark sky announced a rainy thunderous day. My stomach tied in knots and I needed to grip the window frame to keep my balance. I felt myself lose all the red in my cheeks as I leaned into the glass. What an appropriate setting for another murder to happen.
Oh, God, the murders. The last to die was Teddy. My father could be next. I could be next. Henry could be next. The thought of losing either of them brought tears to my eyes. How could I rest easy when the man who committed the crimes was still out there? The police seemed to have very limited information about him. They knew he was smaller than the average man, but still big in stature. He had long dark hair and always wore a cape but no one had seen his face clear enough to draw an accurate portrait of his traits.
I wondered if perhaps my fiancé was as terrified as I was. He was probably aware of his benefactors’ death. Poole must have told him. Or Utterson at least.
“Miss Carrew?” my maid spoke gently. I flinched and turned to face at her. When she noticed my pale complexion, she rushed to my side, grabbing my hand. “Are you alright?”
I gave her a comforting smile that betrayed fear. “Yes, yes.... I’m well... I was just... thinking of Dr. Jekyll.”
“Do you want a glass of water?”
“No... That will not be necessary, thank you...” I murmured half-heartedly as I held my head in the palm of my hand.
I heard a knock at the grand door, soon followed by my father and Utterson’s booming voices echoing in the hall. My heart picked up the pace and I stood up, hurrying my maid to help me get dressed.
-
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed John had the door handle in hand, ready to leave.
“Wait! Mr. Utterson!” I cried out to him, quickly walking up to the door.
“Miss Carrew! Good morning, how are you?”
I dispensed with formalities and asked the lawyer, my voice broken with sorrow, “How is he, John?... How is Henry?”
Ignoring my father’s embarrassed air, I grabbed Utterson’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked unsure, like he didn’t know what he should tell me.
“He... He’s just the same.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, lost in his thoughts once again. I stared back at him, not saying a word, desperately wanting a satisfying answer. John shot my father a look that seemed to beg for approval. Then he spoke.
“I think... I think Henry is being used.” he declared, looking down at his handbag with a frown. “See, he recently sent me a notice asking that I bequeath his fortune and belongings to a Mr Edward Hyde if he were to disappear. Does that name sound familiar to you?”
I knitted my brows and thought for a moment. I never heard that name before. Why would Henry give everything he owned to a man I didn’t know? Why would he disappear?
“I don’t know who that is. Never heard the name either.”
“That’s what I thought. I-“
“Why did he write that?” I cut him off. “Why would he disappear, why-“
“I don’t know. He would not tell me. He told me I wouldn’t understand, but he did ask me to get something for him..”
John opened his bag and took out a small sack wrapped in delicate brown paper - likely an ingredient Henry needed for his experiment.
“What could be inside?” I wondered out loud.
“No clue. I picked it up from the apothecary. I have to give it to him later in the evening.”
“Do you think Mr. Hyde has something to do with it?” my father interjected.
“I believe so. I think Mr. Hyde has some sort of control on Henry. I’ll visit the inspector before I go tonight. Maybe he can provide some information on this Hyde fellow.”
“John...” I murmured to him, my voice soft and calm. “Do you think I could deliver the package? I-I haven’t seen Henry in weeks. I need to see for myself that he is well.”
Utterson nodded and agreed, speaking louder than I had. “I think it would do him good to see you.”
My father pinched my arm very gently and pulled me away from my fiancé’s friend. He looked disappointed.
“You’re not going to go see him again! You said you would not see him until he was done with-“
“I know. Father, I know. But Henry is my future husband. It is my duty to make sure he is well.”
-
“Good evening, Poole.” I smiled at the lanky old man who opened the door to Henry’s house. He bent over and greeted me with a relieved sigh.
“What a pleasure to see you, dear Miss Carrew.” he said as he walked me to the living room. “What brings you here? I thought you wouldn’t come back again...”
“Indeed, Poole... but I’ve come to bring him a package he ordered.”
-
The door of Henry’s laboratory was open. Curious. It usually remained locked; he hated when people could disturb him at any moment. Perhaps he was not working tonight, but was fast asleep in his bed upstairs. I did not bother knocking and just walked in, closing the door behind me. It was quite dark, I could barely see the steps that led downstairs. When I stepped into the lab, I was taken back by the mess. Papers laying on the ground, unfinished meals, melted candles... The intense putrid smell complimented this chaotic setting perfectly. I could hardly perceive what it was that smelled so foul. There was a waxy odour, a slight burning, rotten food and perhaps mold. The air was so thick, no wonder the door had been left open.
I looked around very quickly but could not make out Henry anywhere in the shadows. My attention was brought to the grand table that reigned alone in the middle of the room. An army of scientific instruments dressed up the massive wooden table. Mixtures bubbled in minuscule glass containers of all shapes and sizes. Some tied to each other with a strange straw and others leaked into one another through delicate tubes. What a peculiar but beautiful spectacle. The flames dancing on the few candles reflected on the jars of glass, giving a supernatural glow to the suspicious mixtures. I was observing the potions of all colours when I suddenly noticed a notebook with a few scribbles on the opened pages. I knew peaking into Henry’s business was wrong, but who was gonna tell him?
“We are here alone... We....” I read out loud in a small voice.
“I’m afraid Dr. Jekyll is not available tonight,” a deep menacing voice interrupted me.
My heart shook in my chest as a cold sweat electrified my entire being with fear. This voice did not belong to any man I knew. Yet, this unknown man spoke like he was familiar with Henry. I turned around to face the haunting voice. At first sight, I only perceived pitch darkness. I took a deep trembling breath and braved a few steps forward, gripping Utterson’s package with all my might. I first caught the glimmer of two eyes, then the protruding brow bone, the slender, sharp nose and the squared jaw decorated with messy unkept sideburns. I clenched my jaw as I stared the man up and down. He was slouched in a leather chair, his body drowning in his large fur coat and his legs spread out inappropriately. The coat looked big on him even if the man had some meat on his bones.
“What the hell are you looking at?” he asked, not sounding particularly insulted. He just sounded rude, like a teenager trying to irritate their parents.
Somehow, after drawing this comparison, the stranger appeared less threatening than at first glance. I brought Utterson’s bag close to my chest and I spoke with the calmest tone I could manage.
“You, obviously. What else would I be looking at?”
He didn’t sound amused, so I instantly took control of the conversation, keeping a neutral yet firm diction.
“Where is Dr. Jekyll?”
He let out a dry chuckle that seemed to mock me. “I said he’s not available. What do you want with him?”
“I’ve come to deliver a package for him.”
He eyed my bag for a quick second and then looked up to observe me. A disgusting chill tickled my skin as his grey eyes explored every inch of my body. God, there was something so unsettling about him, but I could not tell what it was. He was not particularly ugly, nor was he particularly handsome. So why did his appearance repulse me so much?
“I was expecting someone else.” he groaned as he stretched.
“That makes two of us.”
He shot me a sardonic smile that shook me to the core. All I wanted to do was run out of this room, but I froze with fear. I hated his face. I hated his voice.
“What’s in that package?” I asked with a strangled voice. He could tell I was afraid. I saw it in his eyes. I was ready to scream bloody murder if he approached me.
“That’s none of your business, Miss Carrew.” he mumbled, elegantly crossing his legs.
I felt my throat close and my heart drop in my stomach. Alarmed, I immediately spoke up, desperately trying to conceal my imminent panic.
“How do you know my name? How do you know who I am?”
“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t know Henry’s fiancé?” he stated with a nonchalant arrogance.
“You’re not his friend.”
“I am. You just don’t know me.”
“I know who you are.” I hissed at him, pulling the bag to my waist, further away from him. He cocked a brow at me. “You’re Mr Hyde.”
He tried to maintain his conceited air, but the twitch in his smile betrayed him. He uncrossed his legs and bent over, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Who told you my name?”
I didn’t want to put Utterson at risk, but my mind could not think of any other name in the moment. I mumbled out an easy lie.
“Henry... Dr. Jekyll did.”
“He never told you about me!” he roared, making me drop the bag in terror. He yelled out with a fury that I thought could never fit in a body that size. No matter how small he was, I was still smaller. I did not scream. No matter how much I wanted to, I could not. I just clenched my eyes shut and heard nothing but my heartbeat rage away in my ears. I felt the warmth of his body, his breath sticking to my skin. He was close, too close. I could already imagine him grabbing me and breaking me with his powerful hands.
“They gave you the wrong order.”
I opened my eyes. He was nowhere to be seen.
I turned around and saw him leaning on the lab table as he inspected a small pouch full of powder. I could see him much clearly now that the candles shone on the sharp features of his face. There was a very pubescent element to his peculiar design - perhaps his peach fuzz and acne gave me this impression. He raised his gaze to me and my mouth dried up. I couldn’t read his expression. I didn’t know what he was expecting of me.
“I don’t understand...” I heard myself say under my breath.
He must have heard me because he repeated himself. “The fucking drug. They gave you the wrong one.”
I didn’t know what to reply to that. I stayed silent, not taking my eyes off of him. He sighed loudly, throwing the pouch inside Utterson’s sac. I watched as he walked towards me, my heart picking up the pace once again.
“Please don’t hurt me...” I whined, closing my eyes again.
There was a silence. His shoes stayed still on the dirty ground, I could only hear my own heavy breathing yet again.
He let out a loud unpleasant laugh and my blood ran cold as I listened to him guffaw. He stopped after a few seconds and I dared opening my eyes again. There he was, standing a few feet away from me, watching me with a mischievous grin as I trembled.
“I could not hurt you, Emma,” he confessed, throwing the bag at me. He continued just as I caught the sack, “Even if I wanted to, Jekyll would never forgive me.”
I frowned, confused. How could Henry be friends with a monster like him? He dressed like an eccentric beggar, talked like a crude farmer and stood like a boorish teen. He was nothing like the kind of person my fiancé took company in.
“How... How did you and Dr. Jekyll come to meet?” I asked, genuinely intrigued.
“He wanted an assistant. I was available.”
“You don’t look much like a scientist to me...”
“And what’s that supposed to look like?” he hissed at me.
I did not answer. I did not want to be the one answering questions. I knew nothing of the man but he acted like he read my entire life journal. There was something malicious about the way he talked to me, as if he had a plan in mind. No matter how much I wanted to keep my strong facade, I understood it would be impossible, for I was terrified of Hyde. All I wanted to do was to leave, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t let me. He had me caught in his claws and would not let me go. He would not let me go unless I did something... but what?
“I did not mean to insult you.” I spoke with the gentlest tone I could manage, forcing a smile to stretch my lips. Perhaps kindness would do it.
He was obviously caught off guard by my sudden change of behaviour. This might work. He stared intently and approached me, creeping in closer than I was comfortable with. I was about to speak when he beat me to it:
“You’re just as Henry described. Gentle and kind, yet... cold.”
My fake smile immediately faded, my mouth weighing down into an unintentional frown. I heard his words again. I was cold.
What about me led him to this assumption? My mask slipped, and it brought upon me a new kind of panic - the kind you get when someone uncovers your secrets.
I looked down then up as if it would help dry the oncoming tears in eyes. I tried to stop thinking about the words that still echoed in my mind, but I couldn’t. I was cold. Everyone told me I was gentle and kind. All these years of training proved fruitless in this one single moment. So much control and so much mental strength. And for what? For nothing. Because my fiancé thought me cold.
Or did he? What if Hyde was just plotting some scheme? What would be the end goal of that scheme? Was he trying to push me away from Henry? What for? I was no bother and never disrupted Dr. Jekyll’s projects. I never did anything a bad wife would do.
My sadness turned to anger, not comprehending why this man toyed with my emotions.
“He never said that.” I said to him, not daring to stare into his icy eyes. He let out a dry chuckle in return, which only made me more furious.
“Well, obviously it doesn’t matter if he did since it seems to be true. You are cold. And you hate it, don’t you?”
“How dare you speak to me that way?” I snapped, finally looking at him in the eyes. There was a hint of madness that glowed in that sickening stare. I could not be nice anymore, even if I tried. He disgusted me and he didn’t care.
“Poor Henry, stuck with a woman who won’t even kiss him.” his guttural voice taunted. His smile grew wider on every word, showing two sharp canines.
An animal. He was an animal. There was no way this vile man was anything close to human.
“Please stop this instant.”
“But tell me, Emma: what does that coldness conceal? A broken heart? A repressed desire? Or both?”
In spite of myself, my mind answered those questions. It made me sick to think about them and I lost all the rosiness in my face. This felt like a nightmare. I wish I had never come. I was so idiotic to think that I could just come here, comfort Henry or maybe even save him. I was so naive.
Mr. Hyde still stood before me, waiting for me to say something. I understood that John was probably right: this horrifying man possessed some sort of control over my fiancé. This pity I felt for Henry came back to me.
“Where is he?” I asked, my voice broken with anguish.
For once, I did not see an ounce of disgust or malice on Hyde’s face, almost as if the game he played no longer interested him. His smile vanished.
“He’s asleep in his bedroom. He needed some rest.” He turned to the table, delicately caressing the notebook that laid open. He frowned and stayed silent, as if he was having an internal conversation with himself. “You should leave... Miss Carrew. I believe you are done here.”
“Yes... I am done.”
I did not bother to say goodbye as I stormed out of the lab, leaving Utterson’s bag behind.
I couldn’t waste a minute.
I needed to talk with the authorities.