The Case Of The Blinded Orchestra (1)

Tick.

Tock.

The pocketwatch ticked and tocked as time flowed as it always did.

There was a slow but steady breath coming from within the room.

As the clock ticked and tocked as its maker's wishes had built it to do so, the night faded away and a snowy December 20, 1887 came as the Big Ben rang to welcome the new day.

***

"Again…?"

The nurse wearily asked the man in front of her, he held hands out like a child that had been caught doing a mischievous deed.

The nurse looked at the 'self-inflicted' harm the man had done to himself.

"This… This isn't my fault. Truly! I had met some people in Whitechapel that didn't go away, truly!"

Hearing the word 'truly' repeated twice and the poor excuse of an excuse, the nurse sighed as she appointed him into the hospital.

"I see…"

A glassy look covered her eyes.

"..."

The man helplessly sighed and put his name down, Alvis Quinn.

"H-Hello?"

Alvis turned around facing a woman who had her eyes closed.

'She seems familiar…'

"Yes?"

"I am in the hospital… correct?"

"...Yes, you are. Are you perhaps blind?"

He asked.

"I… I am not quite sure myself. I just awoke blind when yesterday I was seeing perfectly fine… so I suppose I am blind now."

Nervousness and confusion was evident within her voice, it was shaking like a leaf blown in the wind.

"You are in the right place, the nurse in front of me will help you get situated into the hospital."

Alvis led the woman to the desk, where she then registered into the hospital.

Another nurse came and led her into a room.

An irritated voice came in front of him.

"...Are you going to follow me now? The blood being dripped on the floor is not a very pretty sight, I do not want rumors of our hospital being haunted or unclean to the general public."

"Ah…"

Alvis looked down at his arms which were still bleeding heavily.

"Come along."

The nurse protted like he was a child.

Once inside his familiar private hospital room, Alvis received the proper medical treatment for the slash wounds on his two arms.

'...It is quite fascinating, a woman who saw just a day prior suddenly went blind?'

It was like a strange miracle had occurred on the woman.

'Her iris' was not white and of a normal color. That would rule out any injury or perhaps any natural occurrence such as birth… Is it perhaps a neurological condition that appeared when she grew to a certain age?'

Within the past month, in order to fully understand why the planet and the enigma such as Charlotte Holmes existed, Alvis himself had become a detective.

Naturally, this new and strange 'case' in front of him became a new pastime to think about during his short stay within the hospital.

'I don't quite understand enough about the topic, but I feel like there is something at play…'

It was his instincts that grew from some minor cases and his incident with the Bloody Sunday Riot that told him so. Albeit, whether it could be trusted was another issue.

A plan formed within Alvis' mind.

'...It would just be simple if I just asked her, no?'

Alvis reached into his pocket where he brought out three small mana stones.

Crushing one of them, his face changed into something different.

Like the television-like static on Jill the Ripper's face, his face too became instructable to the naked human eye.

Now, he could see everything he wanted to know with ease.

The white bandages which had been wrapped around his arms had a slight hint of red. His eyes which had heavy dark circles along with his chipped and frail looking nails all indicated signs of mana poisoning.

'Though mana poisoning didn't have any signs of migraines my head keeps acting up…'

Alvis held his head for a moment before leaving his room and into the hallway.

"Excuse me? There was a patient who was just admitted… A strange case of blindness, could you tell me where her room might be located?"

The nurse wearily looked at him, as if she was asking herself if he could be trusted.

"May I ask why you inquire about a patient's private information? Are you perhaps a relative of hers or a spouse?"

"Ah, yes. I'm her distant relative of hers."

The nurse, wearing a weary expression, looked at his face more deeply.

"...We'll need to sign you in at the front, though… You have quite the peculiar face, have I seen you somewhere?"

"This is the first time I have seen you, perhaps you have mistaken me for another person?"

The nurse, who was already looking deeply at Alvis' face, apologized.

"My apologies, I was being rude, let me get you situated into the hospital."

The two headed into the front entrance where the disguised Alvis remembered who the woman was.

'It was a rising violinist. I recall from the morning news that she was quite the rising star in the musical world… Her name was quite an oddity, making it easy to remember as well.'

"What is your name?"

The nurse asked.

"...My name is Nicholas Martin. A relative of Miss Saint Martin."

* * *

When I entered the clean room, a woman with blond hair sat on the hospital bed.

"Hello?"

Her eyes were blue and wore a hospital gown.

"Yes, excuse my intrusion, I am the man who helped you get into the hospital earlier."

"Oh! You're that kind man, thank you."

"That's an overreaction, even if I wasn't the one to help you, the other staff and nurses would have you all the same."

"Even if that is so, I must give credit where credit is due."

"...But what brings you to my room?"

"..."

"In truth, I am a detective that was interested in your situation."

"A detective…?"

Her voice was laced with confusion.

"Yes, I believe that something has caused your blindness, though I have no evidence to show or tell you of, my instincts tell me so."

Miss Martin's eyes had no focus even with perfectly fine eyes.

Although I may not have much experience with neurological conditions, eyes suddenly not working was something not even the body could suddenly make happen. 

In other words…

'...This reeks of a supernatural origin.'

Was it not my responsibility as a detective of England to tackle such strange cases that appear before me?

Not only that, but to understand how to live peacefully, the various 'pieces' of London needed to be fully understood.

Jill the Ripper, Charlotte Holmes, Gia Lestrade… Even the seemingly ordinary Doctor Rachel Watson were some of the 'pieces' that needed to be understood in order to complete this large puzzle known as 'Peace in London'.

'...There were also those two…'

Charlotte Holmes' sister, Mycroney Holmes and the woman Jill the Ripper spoke of fit into the my abnormal list of people needing to be understood.

"As you know, detectives as of late are known for their abilities to take on cases that the police and regular governmental figures can't explain or make sense of. I believe that your blindness is also one of these cases."

"..."

Was it instinctive? I wondered. Though she could not see, Miss Martin's eyebrows were tightly knitted together and her currently useless eyes were slightly open to give a troubled look appearing on her face.

"...I don't know if you know who I am… But this will surely be a scandal in the morning news if word gets out…"

I could not understand.

"...Are you not already facing scandals from your fans?"

"Ah… You knew."

"Would it not be strange if I didn't know? You are a rising star in the musical world. Rather, it seems more strange for me that you are more concerned with a random scandal because of neurological issues than the scandals you usually face."

"Hmm…"

She fiddled with her fingers, her head was dropped low causing her long hair to create a curtain around her face. She was hidden in her own world.

She thought thoroughly for a few seconds.

"...I don't think I can employ you for this task, Mr. Detective. You see, there are some issues that I would rather…"

Her words trailed off. It was cut off abruptly.

"...No, never mind."

"Could you please leave? I would like to enjoy my time alone in this room."

She too, was an incomprehensible being, akin to Jill the Ripper. 

But… In that short meeting, she truly did fit her name 'Saint'. 

Perhaps I was delusional because of the cold or some other unforeseen factor.

The next day, the world went into chaos.

* * *

The 21st of December was only a few days before the long awaited Christmas of that specific year came but shocking news resounded throughout the world.

Alvis, who had just got the morning news from the guards, looked at the large bold title of the morning news at the front with indescribable emotions.

A hundred world renowned musicians are all blind.

From the United States to London, one hundred of the most renowned musicians who played different instruments were all somehow blind within a forenight.

A sigh came out of Alvis' mouth.

"...Miss Jill, do you need to creep in my shadow like it is your second home?"

His barely outlined shadow suddenly became dark, like a dark paint or a viscous ink had dropped into his shadow.

A hand slithered out his shadow and coiled around his neck.

"...What should I do when my most precious treasure is mine and mine alone? Is it not my right as your owner to savor every part of you?"

'...Once again I am reminded that this woman is truly an alien of a human being.'

Jill the Ripper's hand was cold like ice. Her television static covered face and liquid-like body just further solidified his claim within his mind.

"I suppose it is within your rights, I am just a slave after all."

"Now, don't say that. You are much more than 'just a slave'."

"..."

With no more words left to say, Alvis let the chains named 'Jill the Ripper' linger around his neck as he looked at the morning news contemplating the bizarre case of the blind musicians.

'I should visit Miss Martin once more. Is this what MIss Holmes feels whenever she is in the middle of a case? A sense of excitement of mystery and the unknown… It's quite an addictive feeling.'

A slight curve appeared on his mouth.

"...Are you perhaps thinking of another woman right at this moment? If you are, all I can say is that you are quite the audacious butler and slave of mine."

The chains tightened, making it hard to breathe.

"A-Ah…"

"Was I right?"

"..."

"...Yes."

"..."

Jill the Ripper's face was as always, emotionless and cold.

But it felt especially cold that moment for Alvis.

Putting down the morning news, Alvis felt his magic circuits feel a feeling reminiscent of being squeezed. Like wringing clothes, his magic circuits felt like the clothes.

"Ugh…"

A groan of pain.

'...To utilize the slave contract as such… Should I say as expected?'

Truly, at times Alvis didn't know if giving such authority over his body was a good idea.

'Though… soon I might be able to negate this contract all together.'

"..."

Jill the Ripper's eyes looked at Alvis' face.

A cold and calculating look.

Yet even when enduring such pain, Alvis still had that awkward smile, one created by trying to pry his mouth into a 'smile' while in insurmountable pain.

Soon, the 'wringing' stopped and his magic circuits went back to normal.

'A truly jealous being.'

That was Alvis thought of Jill the Ripper in that instance.

"The deal you struck last time, though it was strange, I had agreed to as you would still be fulfilling your obligatory duties as my butler. But as my slave I feel like you are becoming something like a rebellious pet. I will warn you Alvis Quinn, I do not like hunting prey twice after being fooled once."

After those chill inducing words, Alvis sat up from his wooden chair in the kitchen as people began to show in the room.

His morning duties began once more.

* * *

I wondered about Jill the Ripper's words as I commanded the kitchen staff in the morning.

The cook, a man by the name of 'Mr. Butch', by all kitchen members, had appointed me as an assistant cook a month prior right after my debut with the Bloody Sunday Riot.

It was rather unexpected as I had done not much in the kitchen except occasionally give out pointers from my knowledge but I was slowly becoming something akin to a 'perfect butler'.

From my duties in the kitchen, to the work of various maids, I had unknowingly become the 'unofficial head butler' by the staff.

I had even asked the head maid one day.

"Excuse me."

The head maid was a woman in her sixties from what I had heard around the palace.

"Yes. What is it that you need."

Her words were blunt.

She had sharp gray eyes and a strong posture, no doubt made from her years as a maid until it had become second nature to her.

"I just came to inquire about something from you if that would be fine."

The head maid looked down at her wrist and on it was a wrist watch.

"You have one minute."

A timer had started.

"I only came to inquire if you were fine with me being called the 'unofficial head butler'."

To my amazement, what she showed me was a look that consisted of only furrowed brows and eyes that looked as if to say 'really?'.

"Truly? Is that truly all you came to inquire about? That?"

From her almost impatient look to her current, the change was staggering enough that I could not respond in kind.

"Ah… Yes?"

"I was planning to retire soon. In fact, I was planning to train a successor. But from out of nowhere you came about and took command over the palace's maids and butlers as if you were second in charge after only around a year inside. Usually I would care, I would have if it had been only a few years prior but I don't."

"I see…"

'So had I just been given her blessings in becoming the new 'head'?'

After that interaction I went back to my usual routine, but subtly along the way, I somehow had been given more duties.

Though that aside, I began to think about Jill the Ripper's words.

She may have said those threatening words and may also still reside within my shadow watching my every move currently, she would never truly kill me.

She simply can no longer live without me.

I had become akin to a potent drug to her, something she became addicted to.

Though it does beg to stand.

Would she trap me in a basement to use thoroughly as a slave?

Rather, it was already a miracle that she simply did not.

'...Perhaps what makes me a potent drug in the first place may incline with my freedom.'

It was simply another thought that would reside within my mind for a while before dissipating into nothingness.

As the day passed and my various tedious duties came to an end, it had already become night. Something that was already a normality for me.

The only times I truly left the palace without work were times when Jill the Ripper injured me or during weekends.

Though as a slave I did not get paid whatsoever.

'...Truly, a slave.'

I had already dressed in a comfortable coat, something like Charlotte Holmes' except in a hue of brown.

Leaving the palace, I had made my way into the hospital.

It was already closed and well past visiting hours but I had already picked up a few tricks from the past month.

Click.

Picking locks was one of such tricks.

Upon entering, I locked the door behind myself as I walked up the stairs.

'...She is surely there right now.'

It was something like a sixth sense. I could 'feel' Jill the Ripper if she was inside my shadow or not.

Thankfully in this strange mixed genre world, healthcare was something akin to that of the late 1900's instead of methods such as bloodletting and such.

Of course devices were primarily mana stone-based. 

After the release of the systematic mana system, the world had gone through another revolution right after the previous Industrial Revolution.

'Room 2015.'

Although I would have liked it if I could visit early in the morning, it simply was not possible.

Knock, knock…

"...Come in."

I heard the shifting of cloth.

Rattle—

The door opened and inside was the same person as I saw a day prior.

"Hello."

From her body language alone I could tell she was weary.

"Ah…"

The exclamation felt more like a sigh of relief.

"Mr. Detective?"

"Yes."

"..."

The door had already rattled shut and I was sitting next to the blind patient.

Now, rather than weariness she now looked confused,

"How… No, why are you here?"

"Hmm…"

I thought about the question but the answer was already predetermined.

"I want this case. It is rather unusual even within the detective scene where such a large case unfolds."

"I heard from my relatives… Are there not fourty-nine more people you could request this from?"

She made a valid point.

"In all honesty, that just means competing to see who takes this case from others. I would have to grovel and perhaps even beg as if it was an auction just to take the case from another detective. I simply do not have the time for such acts."

For a moment she stayed silent.

"You're quite strange… I recall that I rejected your help but you're here at night on the next day asking if you can take my case…"

She laughed softly.

"In my eyes, you're the more strange one. A blind patient not wanting to find out their perpetrator and so not hiring a detective."

"I suppose each of us is odd in our own ways."

"..."

I was in silence as Miss Martin indulged in her laughter for a bit longer.

"Could I ask you for a favor?"

"Of course, what might it be?"

"Could you open the window in my room?"

I was perplexed.

"...May I ask why? Especially at night, the winds are to the point where it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that they are capable of freezing a person alive."

"Hmm~ I simply wanted to try something dangerous for once. I felt like opening the window and letting the cold in would be a nice way to try something new."

I silently sighed.

Walking over to the window, I could see an almost child-like expectation as I opened the window to let the frigid cold into the room.

"Ha… Hahaha!"

Saint Martin started laughing.

Not like one of a lunatic or a madman, she laughed with such profound joy that it reminded me of a fairytale.

After minutes indulging and basking in the cold, she finally signaled me to shut the window.

I complied and sat back next to her.

"Thank you."

Her face was now red from the cold but her face excluded happiness.

"You said you wanted the case, correct?"

"Yes, I did."

Though there was a subtle smile on her face, Miss Martin reached into the desk next to her and opened the drawer revealing a letter.

"Though I don't know if it was a cruel joke or not, this letter was beside me as soon as I woke up today. From what I can tell, it was a letter to all the blinded musicians around the world. Though I have no way to verify my statement or not."

Upon receiving the letter, I noticed a red wax seal with a strange pattern on it.

'...What kind of stamp pattern is this?'

A strange blend of what seemed to be lines and dots, though because of how cramped the stamp was, it looked to be more of a mistake than a stylistic choice.

"I suppose you don't have any more business with me anymore."

"Ah, I'm sorry, I was too engrossed in the letter, my apologies."

"No, it's fine. Rather, thank you for complying with my request."

"Just to clarify, I don't want compensation, this mystery is enough compensation as is."

"Yes, I know Mr. Detective, I just hope you find what you are looking for. Life at times can be cruel with your expectations."

A sudden flow of wise words came out of the patient's mouth much to my surprise.

I soon saw the waving hand of the now much happier patient as I left the hospital. In my hands I was still examining the letter with keen interest.

The night of December 21 1887 ended as what was later called the 'Case Of The Blinded Orchestra' started as this very letter ended in my hands that night.