Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Doctor
January 13, 7:14am
City of Garden


Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost.
~ Dante Alighieri

The night was like any other night in the City of Garden. The moon had flown over the low clouds in a fast suture of flight. There was no rain yet; it hadn't ever rained in Garden, no matter that it was late fall and well past the normal time for it.
The city was not well lit now, the lamps had been extinguished a long time before and the low lying clouds obscured enough of the moon to make it quite sufficiently dark. The streets of Garden were well laid out; not always in straight lines or complete avenues, but no one was ever lost in Garden, even if you did not belonged to its oldest citizenry.
Garden was not that old, mayhaps a bare half century, but it belonged to the class of city that seemed to have existed forever. It wasn't ancient looking by any stretch of the imagination; Garden had facilities that took full advantage of the newest and finest technology.  Nor was it rundown in any way. The City was remarkably kept up in form and good taste. No, it was the anachronistic sense that Garden did not and never would belong in the present.
The buildings were not too tall; they were not the looming monsters of more metropolitan cities, rather they were slender and supple, seeming to blend into a pleasant background. These buildings did not draw attention to themselves, rather their design seemed to say, this is a natural city, organically formed to enhance its citizens and not ever to detract.
Garden had everything that other cities had: a small slum, a suburbia that would be the adoration of many a city dweller, a bustling and thriving industrial and technological center, an over-large park, right in the center of the City, an arboretum that was located inside the park, many verdant fields and blooming gardens that sufficed to feed most of its citizens, a zoo and animal habitat and a plethora of everything else that went into making a city.
Garden’s market was not large, but it was always bustling; the city met here in the morning most days and refused to get going till the morning's coffee was shared and the newest reports broken.
Garden’s small  industrial section, not near the slums, but rather closer to the center of the city, near the heart, was only a small fraction of the whole city, a scant few blocks, but much went on here, both in the offices above ground and the many below.
Garden’s pride though was the Heart of the City: the park named Redress. It was here where the city originally had been founded around; this was the hub the rest of the city rotated on. It was the Heart both because it was in the actual physical center of Garden, as well as the reason Garden kept on living, breathing and existing.
Redress was very large as parks go; the arboretum belonged inside, the zoo right on the outskirts and all around were Garden’s many lush fields. It was always an awe inspiring sight to the rare visitor: a green, lush forest that stood inside the city, thrived next to the well paved and cobbled roads, grew amongst the buildings as if the buildings were the surprising sight in the city and not the greenery.
However, not of this was visible now. It was dark and it was night.
The inky blackness was deep enough to hide anything, the city quiet enough to notice nothing. The good citizens of Garden slept peacefully unaware of the fragile nature of their City. They had no nightmares, no troubling dreams of darkness surrounding their fair borough and no encroaching malevolent presence haunted their sleeping minds. The citizens had peace in the darkness that hid.
What Garden had in the darkness was murder.

"Doctor!" The cry went out. It was repeated several times. Harsh notes spread thin throughout the cry, it was just loud enough to be heard for several blocks around, but not loud enough to wake the doctor it seemed.
The figure creating the cry was standing before a door, his one hand raised on the knocker.
The sound went out like a bell tolling for the dead. The figure raised its hand again to ring.
"Hold lad, I'm here, behind you," a shadowy figure said, materializing from behind the left shoulder of the knocker.
The man let out a surprised oath as he swung around to face the newcomer.
“Doctor! You gave me a nasty turn.” The man was just past young, the title of lad from the doctor though just seeming a tad too late.
“Who is that? I can’t see as well as I used to in the dark you know.” The speaker’s voice, the only discernible thing about him in the dark was richly mellow, smooth toned and sounded like a man of letters.
“There’s trouble Doctor. Down at Redress. It’s not good.” His tones, though hurried and tumbling, were none the less well understood.
“Who are you now? What’s the trouble? Let’s get inside and actually look each other in the face while I get my things.”
While the Doctor fumbled with his keys, the man spoke.
“It’s Temple Sir. Simon Temple.”
“I don’t think I know you Temple. You haven’t been a patient of mine before I take it?”
The door creaked open while the Doctor, fumbling in his coat pocket, put his keys away. He led the way inside, the hall mostly dark and motioned Temple past him into the vestibule.
“Light the lamp will you?” The doctor asked, “I will get my kit.”
“To answer your previous question Sir, No, never had much need for a doctor’s visit.” Temple lit the lamp while speaking and glanced around the mostly empty room.
It was bare room; nothing adorned the walls and there was no furniture. There was a closet built into the wall where it looked like the Doctor held his boots, canes and overcoats.
The floor was wood, but kept nicely. There didn’t seem to be a scratch on it. At each end of the vestibule was a door: one was a door they had just come through from the outside, the other led into a parlour.
The doctor bustled past him, and led the way into the parlour.
“My kits in my study, I’ll just be a moment.”
The Doctor left the parlour by another door.
“No surprise I haven’t seen you as my patient,” The Doctor’s voice floated from the other room, “You’re young, you seem as fit as a fiddle from the looks of you.”
The parlour was not as empty as the vestibule, but almost as. There was a small settee on one side of the room, and three doors leading out. The Doctor had taken the middle door into his study.
“Now, what’s the trouble down at the park Temple?” The Doctor reappeared in the doorway. In one hand he held his black valise: his doctor’s kit, in the other was his small briar pipe.
“There’s been a terrible accident sir. Two people, both working in the lab or the farm are dead. I don’t know what happened. I was just told to fetch the nearest doctor.”
“You did well my boy. But how did you know to come to me?” They went out the door together, and once outside in the courtyard, the Doctor motioned Temple into a waiting black barouche; the two horses stamping and shrugging in their harnesses.
“Does your barouche prepare itself then?” Wondered Temple at the marvel of the waiting barouche.
“My man has a sixth sense for this sort of thing. He always knows when I am going to need it. Now, how did you know to come to me?”
“I asked Constable Hobbes where to go. I wasn’t sure of any doctor around here. He gave me your address.”
They had seated themselves comfortably, and the Doctor had taken the reigns.
They were now racing along at a steady clip, the horses seeming to be very comfortable with this rate of speed on the dark city lanes.
“Good man that.” The doctor had also lit his pipe and he puffed it comfortably.
“You know Temple, I haven’t looked at a dead body in years. I hope they’re in fair condition?”
“I’m sure I don’t know sir.”
Temple winced as they clipped a street corner.
“I don’t suppose you know who they were?” The Doctor wondered aloud. “Was anyone else hurt in the accident?”
“I don’t think so. I was only there for a minute before the Inspector asked me to find you.”
“Inspector?” The doctor’s voice got a little sharper. “I thought you said this was an accident.”
“I did sir. An inspector was there though….He…” Temple lapsed into silence.
“If an inspector is there, then someone must think this was not an accident.” The doctor said even more sharply and with another crack, urged his two horses even faster.

They arrived on the outskirts of the park a minute or so later, though it still wasn’t quite fast enough for Temple.
He scrambled out as fast as he dared and stood waiting for the doctor who was a little slower in getting out of the barouche.
“I’m a little slower than you Temple; run on ahead and let the Inspector know I’m coming. I’ll just be a moment behind you. Where is the scene exactly?”
The Doctor said reaching back into the barouche for his bag.
"They're at the center of the Dome,” Answered Temple.
“I’ll be right behind you then.” He turned from the barouche with his bag and started to walk towards the Dome, which loomed overhead. Temple noticed for the first time that the Doctor seemed to favor his left side, there was a slight tremor in the quiet confident walk of the Doctor.
“Right,” Temple turned and left with a soft lope towards the Dome.
"Good lad." Said the Doctor quietly at the retreating figure.

The Dome had always impressed the Doctor. It was not the splendor of use: the Dome was a wonderful example of the magic the city contained in its greenery, no it was the mastery of craft and artificing it showed to all who surveyed. The Dome, far from drawing attention away from the beauty of the city and park around it, rather addressed it and perfected it. It belonged there; if it had been a small copse of trees instead, the Doctor was sure the greenery and organic carbon would standout more than the worked glass and slender steel would.
He approached the open glass door. He had not seen any living soul yet. If he knew human nature at all,  and he did, they were all inside gauking, he thought to himself. People were always people, regardles of the city in which they inhabited.
His finely tuned senses were on high alert as he walked. It had been a very long time since he had done any form of a medical investigation, let alone done an autopsy.
The normal scents of the air were a litte more mixed today, the scent of the trees and their fruit mixed with the scent of organic matter and...blood. It was the smell of iron and decay, he decided as he made his circular way through the Dome's inside trail towards the center.
He approached the crowd; they all stood with their backs to him. Sight of the accident was hidden for now, but he had a guess as to what he was going to see.He made his slow way through the crowd. He had been right about that he thought.
He came out of the press and the scene was no longer hidden.
His gaze took in everything in the scant seconds he had between the short walk from the last of the gaukers to the center of their attention.
The two victims were gathered at the base of the tree. Their figures unnaturally angled and set to each other, were almost drenched in blood. It looked to be their own.
They looked like they had been drained of their colour of life, their life-blood then spilled over them. The scent of metallic iron was almost overpowering. The Doctor wasn't sure he could recognize them in their condition he decided.
There were a couple people standing nearby talking slowly and quietly with each other. So intense was the Doctor's gaze, he didn't even register that it was Temple and another fellow.
The other fellow had to be the Inspector.

The Inspector was tall and lean; he almost looked like a feral animal that had assumed the guise of a man in dark overcoat and crumpled hat. The Inspector's face was lit for a mere moment by the glow from his cigarette before the Doctor had covered the distance over to him and it revealed a set of craggy lines, deep set, penetrating eyes that were still the colour of chestnuts and thin lips clenching a cigarette that didn't look as if they were exercised much in the way of smiling.
The Doctor's last fanciful thought was that Inspector looked rather like an old wolf in human skin.

"“Mondieu, I presume? Evatt. Sorry to keep everyone waiting. I’m not so young as once I was.”
They shook hands. Mondieu's grip strong and firm, the palms criss-crossed with felt scars and lines.
 “Mondieu, indeed. Welcome Doctor. Seth, our friendly policeman here, will detail you on the happenings. If you would be so kind as to inspect the victims.”
Evatt nodded at Temple in the way of greeting and settled in to the examination.
“Well,” said the doctor with a deflated sigh. “I can say for certain, even from this distance, that they are dead. Likely from exsanguination. What, precisely, am I looking for? Sadly, I’m trained as a midwife, pediatrician, and light surgeon, not an autopsy pathologist.” He pulled on his examination gloves as he spoke.
“I’m not certain, yet. Anything of note will do. Just inspect everything as carefully as you may. Where may I reach you for this information?”
“I live in Lucille Manor, on the Southeastern corner of Garden,” Evatt said while slowly kneeling into place next to the victims.
He recognized them. He wasn't sure he would be able to from the distance before and their state, but he was sure he could now.
It was Miss Lilya and her partner, Addam.
He heard a footfall behind him.
"What do you think Doctor?"
Evatt recognized Seth's lighter tones without looking up.
"Just starting now Seth. What have I missed here. When did Mondieu arrive?"