„Leave me, God, at least this madness, for it makes me feel almighty”

Into steps, step in time, the wind started to surround the city, showing its knowledge about what the tango and the perfect rhythm mean. And to be everything credible, that mad wind, that playful wind of an end autumn started to tightly hold in his arms those yellow leaves, seen plenty off fallen on the sidewalks and all over around them, making that huge territory seem only a simple and weird dance floor: of the autumn and of its richness.

And it was so beautiful to look at that madness of colors that was entering deeply into your soul, making you feel like them: weird, in love, melancholic, and proud of who you are, for even if the autumn doesn’t seem alike not even on two similar small pieces of land, it was also unique in its way, „like humans are with their madness,” murmured Keen, barely heard, squatted and looking at that autumn madness, seen scattered all over around him, jerking in small circles about the soil when the wind was entering under that multicolored carpet, making the leaves move in strange circles, somehow ovoid sometimes when the leaves were coming off the branches, rolling later in the air, in calm rhythms of a savage and unique tango till they were getting to the ground and were complementing that richness fallen already from heights, which eventually was meant only to warm the tired body of the time, called our Old Daddy land, with a thick coat, which would last maybe till the spring to come.

„Why do you think so?” Lenny asked Keen, being only one step behind the detective, standing and also staring at that splendor of colors and forms scattered everywhere at their legs and far from them, a splendor that was abundantly watered by the sky’s tears an evening ago, but which was still dropping tears from heights at that moment too, tears scattered by those playful gusts of wind that were touching the cheeks'skin of those two men from time to time only, trying them if they are also good mates to play with.

„Because the man, as the nature, plays sometimes basing only on their own principles, and their cunningness isn't something we can so easily notice,” said Keen randomly, still staring toward the horizon.

„Yet: we can know the man eventually. Nature instead is something we’ll never know well. Or… this is what I think,” said Lenny and smiled, for he also didn’t believe in such words that crossed his mind eventually.

Hearing Lenny talking like that and knowing that it wasn’t something common for him to talk like that, Keen turned his head and looked for a long time at his young assistant, who kept staring at the horizon. Yet, even if he wanted to say something to complement the young man’s thought, Keen had decided yet that will be better to keep his mouth shut and he again looked at the horizon, trying to admire its beauty with all his heart.

Yet, feeling his legs numbed, Keen stood up and stretched his body, making it slowly crack as if it was dried wooden tightly held in the arms of the flames that were kissing its body with their red lips. Then, when he felt that the numbness caused by nature and its madness passed a little, Keen looked at his clock and saw that it was late already. That’s why he took a few steps toward the carriage that was waiting for them not that far from the place where they were.

Lenny followed him right away. But when to climb into the driving box next to John and hurry up toward where Keen would have considered right to go eventually, the detective told his assistant to get with him inside the carriage, and this amazed Lenny and John a lot. Yet, none of them said anything and they did as the detective said.

Yet, not even when they stood already one by the side of the other, listening to how John was spurring the horses, neither Lenny nor Keen said nothing as if that streamlet of words suddenly dried in their souls. Or maybe they were only afraid not to interrupt the magic of that autumn and romantic night, full of suspense and tears falling from heights.

Only when it was already dark outside and they were half of that road that was crossing the forest, the same road Bardain and Colby took toward London not that long ago, Keen looked through the window and murmured: „it seems to me or this job is damn twisted?”

„Twisted? In which way?” asked Lenny amazed and confused at the time.

„In all respects. Let’s only think a little bit about this: on one side is that old teamster that hid evidence for more than 20 years to reveal them only when he felt that he couldn’t face the time alone anymore, to later vanish somewhere and so suddenly by the way. On the other side is Brian Beneath himself and his tormented and weird life, for it seemed to me that all this charade started with Helen Walker and will end with Eva Stonebridge, but I realize now that I’ve been wrong, for what started with Baron Beneath will end with his son, eventually. The question is still: how will end all this eventually?”

„Do you think that Brian Beneath will end like his father: with a bullet in his head and forgotten by everyone?”

Keen smiled eventually and finally looked in front, leaving that window unwatched, through which the Queen Night was lurking on them. „You know, Lenny, I also thought about this. Yet: I got to another conclusion.”

„To another conclusion? Like?”

„That even if we consider Brian Beneath as being an invertebrate, who let himself led by women like Beatrice Evans and Christine Bircham, he’s more than this, for what seemed at first as if he allowed them to use him for their mean aims, it resulted to be the opposite eventually, for he not only got the divorce with Sophie Anderson Bell, as he wished when all this madness started, but he also has now that child he wanted so much in his arms, a child he had with a beloved woman and not with a random one.”

„Yet, as you said before, he seemed to have lost something eventually: the beloved woman. Or at least this is what you said: that Eva Stonebridge left, abandoning her newborn daughter and the man that seems to love her so much.”

„This is what I said, true. But… I still consider this as being a mystery.”

„Eva Stonebridge’s abandon is a mystery? What do you mea by, saying that, detective Keen? To be honest I’m more confused now.”

„And you’re right saying this, for I’m not also convinced to the end and I’m wondering sometimes if I made the right conclusion eventually. But even so, with all this confusion felt in my head and in my soul, I still think that we are on the right way. More after the talk I had today with Miss Huntington, for that old lady knows more than she says. But, loyal as she is, she won’t say anything more. And it’s a shame that she does this, for she only helps thus so many souls to die eventually.”

„Do you think that she knows where that Bardain went eventually and why Miss Stonebridge abandoned her family, doing the same thing her father did 17 or 18 years ago?”

„Not only this. I’m sure that that cunning old lady knows everything that happened not that long ago and also what happened with Baron Beneath and why that man died eventually in weird conditions.”

„Weird? It seems very clear to me, to be honest: he pulled the trigger, blew his brains because of love, and the story is finished,” mumbled Lenny, not at all convinced of what he said.

His words instead only made Keen cunningly smile: „what if everything is not that simple as others wanted us to believe?” and Lenny stared confused at him. „You’ll see soon that I’ve been right.” And, after knocking twice on the wall of the carriage, he shouted to John to hurry up to the outskirts of the city, for he considered that namely in that part of London that new madness started.

***

„What? Is Bardain missing now?” the old smith asked Keen, staring thunderstruck at the detective and at the two assistants that were accompanying Keen.

„As far as I can see from your confusion, I can understand that you weren’t aware of anything,” said Keen in a sure tone, not losing sight of the old smith, for his cop’s instinct was telling him, as usual, that everybody that knew Bardain Jones ones - friends or simply acquaintances were more than able to hid important truths.

He has been yet amazed to see a cunning smile on the old smith’s lips, who was staring at him. But he has been even more amazed to hear him hissing through his teeth: „after you had followed him that night and made him go into the wide world eventually, now you come to ask me where did he go. It already smells like gasoline, mister… as you said your name is.”

„Keen, Vincent Keen. Yet, it seems to me that we won’t get to a consensus eventually, for I say something, you say something else.”

„Really?” the old smith gave as good as his gets. „What consensus should we get eventually? Or you’ll tell me that you asked about Bardain just for asking.”

„Of course, not. And, forgive me for my shamelessness, but I can’t offer you details about the case I’m investigating. You know how it is: the job's risks and the cunningness of the humans made me be like this. But a certain thing I can tell you: I’m here in the name of Brian Beneath, for he’s the one who hired me to look for his old teamster, who more than a week didn’t turn back home and either did he say where did he head eventually.”

Hearing Brian’s name, about who he heard from Bardain a lot of good words and brags, for the old teamster really cared about the young man who he had seen growing up, the old smith became soft at glance and, after looking to the left and to the right, making sure that they weren’t followed, he motioned with his head toward Keen and his assistants to enter the house. After that, the old smith entered first, leaving the door open for his guests.

But in the house entered only Keen. First of all, he demanded John and Lenny to stay on guard and especially to search the place under that big maple tree under which he noticed that the old smith looked all the time while they talked, a hint that the old man saw someone there for a lot of times lurking on his blacksmith. After that, the detective took off his hat and entered the house, carefully closing the door behind him, not allowing even that cunning wind that was hovering around the house to listen to the secret talk he had to have with the old man.

***

„I know Bardain for 60 years already,” the old smith started his story while he and Keen were sitting at a round wooden table, with old and new incrustations on it, for the man had a lot of children, mostly boys, who, screwy as they’ve been, left deep marks on that table, marks that were mostly informing others about their names, for Keen saw a Samuel, a John, a George and many other names on that table. „Yet, I still consider that I never really knew that old friend of mine,” murmured the old man, and his words made Keen take eventually his eyes from off the wooden table and stare into the pale eyes of the old man, eyes that have been of a dark black once.

„Why do you think so?” asked Keen eventually, drinking to the bottom the strong liqueur offered by the old smith.

„Because I’ve always thought that Bardain was a simple man. But, that day, when he came to my door, shaking with all his body and mumbling unintelligible words, I understood that he has been involved in God knows what stinky thing and that he wasn’t able anymore to be free again.”

„Do you mean the time he came to your blacksmith a few days ago? The day he has been followed and he left the carriage with you?”

The old man smiled: „well, to be honest, that Bardain was followed by someone weren’t news, for he had always had someone blowing down his neck since he started to work for Baron Beneath. But yet, I was talking about another night. More than 18 years ago, I think.”

Keen winced. „More than 18 years ago?” he mumbled, somehow strangled.

„Right. A few days after Baron Beneath’s death, I think, for… oh, I don’t also know exactly the right time, for a lot of time has passed since then. But yet: it was the first time I’ve seen my old friend Bardain Jones shaking like hell.”

„Was he afraid of something?”

„Yes, but not for his life. He was afraid for his boy’s life, for Baron Beneath’s son’s life.”

„For Brian’s life? Why so?”

„Because that day, when Baron Beneath died, many came to visit him. And one of those people has been John Evans.”

Keen winced again and looked thunderstruck at the old smith that poured more strong liquor into his glass, to later drink it till the bottom. But the detective didn’t allow him to think more and asked: „wait a minute: here is something confusing me - did John Evans really visit Baron Beneath that day? I knew only about Lyre Walker.”

„Well, Lyre Walker’s visit is another story, for, as Bardain told me that day, Baron Beneath and Lyre Walker have been never in a good relationship. Yet, after Evans'visit, mister Baron had a real nervous breakdown. Bardain even told me that he saw his master catching up with Evans, right next to that man’s carriage, and, that Baron Beneath grabbed Evans by the arm, squeezing it hard, and that he later punched him, shouting him to stay away from his family and especially from Brian. If not, he’ll take care to end like Shelby Storm ended his life.”

Keen shuddered, for it was for the umpteenth time he heard the count Shark’s name lately. Yet, it was the first time he heard something clear about that legendary name, which was only the name of a ghost in the end. „Bardain didn’t mention anything about this when he visited me.”

„He probably forgot about this,” the old smith murmured, drinking another shot. Yet, even if he drank a lot, Keen saw that the old man was still aware of everything and he understood that the old man was a tough man. „Or maybe he didn’t forget,” mumbled the old man eventually and bitterly smiled. „He probably didn’t want to remember this, for it has been a really difficult time that period: for him, for his master, and for Brian, for right after that man’s death, after Shelby Storm’s death, Baron Beneath and his son left England for a few years. They turned back about a year before what happened with Helen Walker and when Baron Beneath eventually died.”

„And… did Bardain tell you about what happened then?”

„To be honest, no. Or wait: only a few words. Once, when he had drunk much than he used to drink: „Mister Beneath should have stayed away from all this. Yet: life pushed him to commit sins eventually.”

„Life pushed him to commit sins,” mumbled Keen, sipping a little bit from his liquor. „Interesting: what do these words mean?”

„Isn’t this clear for you?” murmured the old man, making Keen stare in amazement at him. The old smith did the same, supporting his elbows on the table and staring into the detective’s eyes. „It seems that Baron Beneath had something to do with Shelby Storm’s death.”

„Yet, I have another information: that Baron Beneath helped that man eventually,” said Keen in a serious voice, deeply staring into the old smith’s soul.

„You know, detective, you seem to be an intelligent person. Yet, you don't have the foxes’cunningness.”

„The foxes’cunningness? May I ask what you mean?”

„Of course: that a human fox will always fight on two battlefields, and Baron Beneath was a damn cunning fox, who tried to take advantage, fighting with a lot of people, but he has been the deceived one eventually.”

„And did you also find out this from Bardain?”

„No. Bardain didn’t tell me a lot about this, for he loved his master too much to reveal his secrets. Even after that man’s death, Bardain kept silent, like a cat on hot bricks.”

„Yet, it seems to me that you know something about those events, too.”

„Of course, I know, for… working in this area and having my age, it’s impossible not to hear at least something, because even if I’m only a smith working on the outskirts of London, yet, many carriages have been repaired by me. Especially the rich people’s carriages, for… I don’t want to brag, but the circumstances force me to do that: the fact that I’ve been a skillful smith helped me a lot and made me well-known in my area, and the mouth-to-mouth publicity helped me to develop my business. Thus: a lot of men knocked on my door, and, not only poor men, but also the teamsters working for rich people, and not all the teamsters are as loyal as Bardain is: there have been those who couldn’t keep their mouths shut and they told others about what they knew. Thus, I could find out that Shelby Storm has been involved in something damn weird before dying and that his close friends have been who killed him eventually, for… it was their lives at stake if not doing this.”

„Yet, these could have been only words,” insisted Keen.

„Maybe, but still: gossip is also a kind of truth, and what Bardain told me about his master, that he should have stood away from sins, made me conclude something, and one of those conclusions was that Baron Beneath could have been involved in what happened to Shelby Storm.”

„Anyway: it’s one thing or another, I think that only Bardain can reveal that truth.”

„This is true, detective, but I’m so afraid that something happened eventually to my old friend.”

„Do you mean that the one who followed him that day could silence him eventually?”

„This theory is also possible, but yet: I doubt this.”

„Why?

„Because if they had been who silenced Bardain, then they wouldn’t have hovered around my house after that, for I’m sure that I’ve seen other crows flying around here later and also around other people Bardain used to know.”

„Alice Huntington,” murmured Keen eventually, remembering that he saw someone spying on Alice that day.

„It seems so, for even if Bardain’s followers knew about the bound between Mrs. Huntington and Bardain, it had been also because my worker let the carriage with her that day and this made her a suspect too.”

„And… do you know who followed you and Mrs. Huntington after Bardain’s missing?”

„Wherefrom should I know this?! If Bardain didn’t tell you about this when he saw you, he also didn’t tell me the name of those who looked for hurting him.”

„But... did Bardain tell you that he had been to see me?”

„He told me about this before coming to see you, for he asked me about the shortest path to your office on foot and he also mentioned your name. And, to be honest, you aren’t a no-one in this society. Many know you. And I also know who you are, for even if I never needed your services, I know what you are doing for a living.”

„Also from hearing?” asked Keen in a joke and grinned.

„How else?!” the old smith told him in the same playful tone, so, like between men, and he poured more liquor into both glasses. „Yet, detective, if you started to investigate this, I hope you’ll finish it, for if something happened to Bardain, my old friend deserves someone to make justice in his name.” Saying this, the old smith raised his glance and waited for a while with his hand lifted in the air till Keen understood what he was waiting for. And, after Keen also lifted his glass, the old man clinked glass from glass and, after drinking his drink, the old man said: „count on my help, detective. Maybe I’m only a simple smith, but yet: life made me an old fox if the circumstances require this.”