Whispers of Bedlam Asylum (Sigmund Shaw Book 2) (15 page)

19.

Chief Inspector Holmes looked at Zachary, the monkey, asleep on Richard Sutton’s lap. He smiled and thought that 2:00am is early for man and animal. The carriage was parked on Lambeth Road, near the entrance gates to the asylum. There were a few street lamps along this stretch, but they struggled mightily against the drizzle and darkness. Holmes had driven the carriage and although well dressed, was happy to be out of the elements and in the passenger cabin.

“Are you sure he can do this?” Holmes asked Sutton.

Sutton petted the back of Zachary and said, “I’m sure. He’s not your average monkey.”

Holmes smiled again. The whole thought of this endeavor was straight out of a Conan Doyle story: To have a monkey sneak into the asylum and deliver a set of lock picks to Sigmund.

“Do you have the drawings?” Sutton asked.

Holmes reached into his jacket pocket and took out his sketches from when he brought Sigmund to Bedlam. It was for this reason that he insisted on going with the orderlies all the way to Sigmund’s room. To get an exact location.

Sutton continued to pet Zachary and said, “Time to wake up little one. Time to wake up and do some work.”

Holmes watched as the monkey raised his head and blinked his eyes. Zachary looked around the dark carriage and then up at Sutton.

“That’s right, time to help Sigmund.”

Holmes didn’t think that the monkey looked particularly pleased to be awake, but then again, he didn’t look particularly unpleased. Who knew what went on in the mind of a monkey?

“Hold up the first drawing,” Sutton told Holmes.

He held up a rough sketch of the outside of Bedlam Asylum. There was a red circle around the leftmost second story window, the window closest to Sigmund’s room.

Sutton touched the red circle and said to Zachary, “Sigmund. This is Sigmund.” He then went back and forth between pointing at the picture and pointing out the window at the actual building.

Holmes understood what Sutton was trying to do, but it seemed a bit of a stretch. Could Zachary make the connection, even as basic as it was?

Another minute or so passed with Sutton alternating between the picture and the window. When satisfied, he said, “Alright, next picture.”

Holmes flipped the page and showed his other sketch. This one was a basic view of Sigmund’s door – a red circle around the viewing window. Included in the picture was the door next to Sigmund’s and the end wall of the hallway. For a person, it would be easy to determine that Sigmund’s room was the second to last door of the corridor. Again, Holmes wondered about the ability of Zachary.

Sutton pointed at the red circle and repeated, “Sigmund.” He didn’t spend as much time on this picture, but seemed satisfied that the monkey understood. Sutton looked at Holmes and said, “He’s ready. Do you have everything?”

Holmes nodded and removed from his pocket a pouch containing the lock picks. Sutton took it and placed it in a small bag that was attached to Zachary’s back. From his other pocket, Holmes produced a blackjack – a six inch long piece of leather with a weighted end. This was a basic weapon that should be easy for Sigmund to hide and yet give him a little protection. Holmes hoped he wouldn’t need it. Sutton took this as well and put it in the pack.

“I think he has everything that is needed,” Sutton commented.

“The pencil and paper are already in there?”

Sutton double checked and answered, “Yes.”

“Alright then,” Holmes said and opened the carriage door.

Sutton set Zachary on the floor near the door and gave him a little push. Zachary looked back at him as if to say, ‘Excuse me?’

“Sigmund,” Sutton urged and gave the monkey another little push. This time Zachary hopped out of the carriage and ran across the road towards the asylum.

The two men stared out the window to see if the little animal would do what they wanted. However, despite their best efforts, it wasn’t long before Zachary disappeared into the darkness. He looked to be going the right way before the night overtook him, but now they would have to wait to see if he would accomplish his mission. Hopefully the monkey would return with a note from their friend.

20.

Sigmund needed to stay awake. He figured that after his first night’s experience – with the cold and uncomfortableness – staying awake wouldn’t be an issue. He was wrong. The lack of sleep mixed with the stress of the day made his eyes very heavy.

Meeting Basil was a blessing. The man was friendly, informative, and, well, normal. Not in a million years would Sigmund have thought he would be able to form any kind of bond with a patient. His few preconceptions of the insane were changing quickly. Such a broad brush is used to paint the idea of a patient, but the truth is far more diverse.

Standing up, Sigmund paced his small confines in order to fight fatigue. Above the sound of the gusty wind, grunts and the clinking of chains could be made out from his neighbor’s room. Occasional wails and cries could be heard from other patients trying to get through another night in Bedlam. Even with all this, fatigue fought hard against him.

A high pitched
hmm-hmm
grabbed his attention and immediately removed his fatigue. The sound was familiar and a most welcomed one. It was his monkey, Zachary! Sigmund stepped to the window of his door and could just make a little black silhouette in the darkness of the hallway. There was no mistaking his little friend. “Psst. Zachary, I’m here.”

A more excited
ohh-ohh
sounded and Sigmund backed away from the window as Zachary jumped up. From there, he leapt into Sigmund’s arms. “It’s good to see you too,” Sigmund said with a big smile.

A very unexpected wave of emotion hit Sigmund. He was only going on his second night in the asylum, but the loneliness, the sadness of his surroundings, and the unfounded fear – which, as with most fears, increased at night – that somehow he would be abandoned to this place welled up in him. He fought back tears as he held his friend. Stroking Zachary’s back, Sigmund took several deep breaths to calm himself. The fact that Zachary was here was proof that he was not forgotten. It was proof that Holmes and Sutton were just outside doing what they could to help.

With these comforting thoughts, he started going through the small pack that Zachary was wearing. “So, what have your brought me?”

Inside he found four items. A lock pick set, a blackjack – which was unexpected, but welcomed – a piece of paper, and a pencil. Placing the items on the bed, he sat down next to them. He placed Zachary on the floor who immediately started to examine the room. The monkey was particularly interested in the bucket.

“I would stay out of there if I were you,” Sigmund advised.

Taking up the pencil and paper, he wrote a note:

Found my first clue today. More research needed.

Thank you for the items, I’ll make use of at least one of them tonight.

When I get out of here, please have a nice meal prepared.

-Sigmund

With the message finished, he placed it carefully in Zachary’s pack. “Alright, boy, it is time for you to go.”

The monkey jumped up to Sigmund’s arms. “You did good, Zachary. I will get you a nice treat once I’m out of here.”

Zachary made a happy
eek
sound in recognition of the word ‘treat’.

Taking him to the window of his door, he instructed, “Go back to Richard now. Go.”

The monkey gave a look at Sigmund and then turned and jumped out the window back to the dark hallway. Sigmund watched as best he could as the dark shape of his friend headed towards the far wall and up to a ledge. From there, he disappeared through one of the missing panes of glass.

Sigmund was alone again, but his spirits were boosted by the visit of his friend. With renewed energy, he placed the blackjack in his pocket and grabbed the lock pick set to start on his door. He wanted to break into the records room and examine the release papers. If Basil was correct, there should not be many records for the last several months, not enough to account for the number of patients that they had been
told
were released.

His room was dark which made the lock picking process extra difficult. While making his attempt, he stopped when he thought he heard something. Was Zachary coming back?

Squeak

Of all the sounds in the asylum, this new one stood out. How quickly one becomes accustomed to their surroundings. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but he knew that it definitely was not Zachary.

Squeak

It was louder this time. Did someone hear him trying to open his door? Putting the lock picks in his pocket, he quickly went over to his bed and pretended to sleep. His heart beat fast, but he was at least able to keep his breathing calm.

Squeak

It was close. Sigmund strained to hear anything else, but nothing could be heard beyond the regular nighttime sounds.

Squeak

It was right outside his door and now he could hear accompanying footsteps. His body was alive with nervous energy, but he fought to stay still. The sound of a key in a lock could be heard, but it was more distant than expected. It was not his lock that was being opened. It was…The Beast of Bedlam’s?

Sigmund still did not move, careful to not draw attention to himself in any way. He knew that all punishment in this place would be severe. The sound of his neighbor’s door opening could be clearly heard and this was followed quickly by a reaction from The Beast. The grunts turned to louder growls and the sound of the chains amplified.
What could they be doing at this hour?

Straining to hear, Sigmund could pick up a whispered voice, but could not make out any of the words. Then, the most unexpected thing happened, The Beast’s noises stopped. Becoming less concerned for himself and more concerned for his fellow patient, Sigmund warred against staying put or trying to see what was happening. Knowing that there was little he could do with his door still locked, he remained in bed, his senses trying to soak in any information they could glean.

Continued sounds of movements could be heard from the neighboring room, but nothing to give away what was actually going on. Another minute went by in anxious ignorance. Then there was the sound of the door closing, locking, and…

Squeak

It started again. A few moments later, Sigmund heard it once more, this time farther down the hall. Whoever it was, was heading away. Jumping out of bed, Sigmund pushed his face up to his door window to try and see something. The angle was sharp and it limited his view, but he could make out part of a dark form pushing something – a wheeled-chair. A moment later they were out of view and Sigmund couldn’t see anything. His heart continued to race with excitement, while his mind raced with confusion.
What was going on?

Letting a little time go by, he went back to trying to unlock the door. His excitement and the darkness conspired to make it a tedious and long process. When it finally gave in to his efforts, he had to fight not to give out a celebratory yelp. Pushing the door open, he quickly exited and went straight to The Beast’s window. Nothing could be seen in the cell due to the darkness, so in a voice that was barely above a whisper, Sigmund said into the door window, “Hey. Hey! Anybody home?”

No response. He turned to look down the hall and could see very little. No lights, other than what could seep in from the windows, illuminated the corridor. Cautiously, Sigmund started moving, heading towards the double doors at the far end. He kept his steps as quiet as he could, not knowing where the unknown person or The Beast were. Meeting either one alone in the dark was not a pleasant thought. A few sounds could be heard from the doors he passed – cries, laughs, and whimpers – and he found them even more haunting at this closer distance. The pain, the madness, the whatever it was that caused these poor souls to cry out in the night.

Sigmund reached the double doors and tested the handle – locked.
This had to be the way that they went
, he thought, although he still struggled to find a reason. Perhaps some kind of therapy? What would be done at night that couldn’t be done during the day? He soon gave up trying to come up with an answer, he simply needed more information, so he focused on unlocking the doors.

Once again it took him longer than he thought it should. He had been in many situations during his thieving career that put him under pressure, but nothing like this. It wasn’t just the unknown, it was the unpredictable – normal people act in normal, predictable ways. There were not many of those here. The chance of the unexpected was high and impossible to prepare for.

The lock finally gave and Sigmund opened one of the two doors slowly. The other side, the second floor landing, was just as dark as the hallway. Sigmund kneeled in the opened door and listened for any sounds.

Squeak

There it was! It was faint and came from the first floor, but the sound was unmistakable. He moved towards the stairs but stopped all of a sudden when he heard another noise coming from behind one of the rooms nearest to where he was skulking. He looked at the two doors on the second floor landing to determine where the sound came from. He saw a faint glow leaking under the non-dining room entrance and heard more noises, some sort of grunting and excited whispers. He knew from Basil that the room behind that door was a kind of community area.

Now what?
The unknown person and The Beast were downstairs, but there was also something happening right near him.

As curious as Sigmund was about what was happening below, he decided to investigate the second floor room. Perhaps, if it was nothing, he could still catch up with the pair below.

He quietly approached the door and the sounds grew a little louder. The whispering remained excited, but not loud enough to understand what was being said. The grunts were unintelligible but now Sigmund could determine that they were being made by a woman.

At the door, he placed his ear against it and could make out a few of the whispered words.

“Quiet...” “Stop…” “Don’t worry…”

Sigmund turned the door handle slowly until the latch was free of the frame. He prayed that the hinges wouldn’t squeak as he slowly pushed it open. There was a hint of sound made, but not enough to alert the room’s occupants. After one step inside, the whispered voice could be heard much more clearly.

“Stop struggling. It’s not like we haven’t done this before.”

There was a candle on a small table that let out a weak light. It was just enough for Sigmund to see a man pushing against a woman along the wall. The man’s hands were on her wrists pinning them by her head. The woman would turn her head to the left and then the right, grunting at the assault. Her eyes glistened in the light and Sigmund could see them shifting focus constantly.
This woman was a patient!
The man’s form, although his back was mostly towards Sigmund, was recognizable. It was Mr. Baker, one of the orderlies.

Many thoughts went through Sigmund’s mind in that moment. How could anyone take advantage of a patient like this? How could they live with themselves? What if someone tried to take advantage of his niece because of her disability? All these thoughts led to one clear feeling – anger.

Sigmund scanned the room for a weapon and found many possibilities. A chair seemed a good choice but at that moment he remembered the blackjack in his pocket. He removed the small leather bar and felt the heft of the weighted end. With weapon in hand, he moved quickly and silently towards Mr. Baker. It took a mere two seconds to cross the distance between them, and in that time Sigmund had to talk himself out of killing the man multiple times.

Barely slowing down as he neared, he raised the blackjack and brought it down hard on the back of the orderly’s head. The man immediately fell to the ground, unconscious. Sigmund stared at the fallen monster and took deep breaths to calm the fury that pumped in his veins.

The woman stayed where she was against the wall and looked around the room absently. Whether she knew what had just happened or not, Sigmund wasn’t sure. He was certain, though, that she was not happy with what was about to happen if he hadn’t interrupted. Then Sigmund remembered the orderly alluding to the fact that this had happened before. A new wave of grief – and anger – flooded his system. This poor girl. She is here for help and instead receives unspeakable abuse and torment.