Deadly Sleepwalker, An Adaline and Genevieve Adventure

Table of Contents

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Deadly Double

About Tony Flye

Other books by Tony Flye

Connect with Tony Flye

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

DEDICATION

To the woman who makes my life whole and the son who made my past worthwhile.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Cover art by Rocky M.

DEADLY SLEEPWALKER

An Adaline and Genevieve Adventure

Chapter 1

I found a severed head in my bed this morning when I woke up and I don't know how it got there. I must see Lady Adaline and Lady Genevieve Halverson, the visitor said as he pushed past the startled Mr. Stancliff, the Halverson's head butler.

Please wait here while I see if their ladyships are receiving, Stancliff said formally. Whom may I say is calling sir?

I am Sir Edward Colegraves and it is important I see their ladyships – now.

Stancliff left Sir Edward in the foyer while he went in search of Adaline and Genevieve.

Sir Edward Colegraves wishes a meeting with your ladyships, Stancliff announced as he stood in the open doorway of the Halverson’s drawing room.

Please bring him back, Adaline said. Stancliff nodded and left to escort Sir Edward back to the drawing room.

Please come in, Adaline Halverson said as Stancliff showed Sir Edward into the drawing room. Adaline indicated a seat at the round mahogany table Adaline and her sister Genevieve used as their desk when conducting their discrete investigations. Introductions were made and Genevieve made a note of his address. She made a curious expression on hearing Sir Edward's address.

How may my sister and I help you? Adaline asked.

I found a severed head in my bed this morning, Sir Edward said repeating what he told Stancliff at the door.

Adaline looked at Sir Edward in disbelief. "Tell us about this severed head you say you found in your bed this morning, Genevieve said.

I don't know how it got in my bed, Sir Edward said.

I do not understand, Adaline said.

I woke up this morning and it was there.

Have you contacted Scotland Yard? Genevieve asked.

No. My solicitor, Mr. Calvert Amesbury recommended I come to the two of you for help, Sir Edward said.

We know Calvert Amesbury, Adaline said.

He is as perplexed at my story and I am, Sir Edward said meekly, not much louder than a whisper. Perspiration ran down his forehead as if he were standing in a rainstorm.

What is it you would like my sister and I to do for you? Adaline asked.

Sir Edward Colegraves was in his mid forties, five feet tall, with short dark hair turning gray at the temples and a dark pencil thin mustache now with the beginnings of salt among the pepper over his wide mouth. His side whiskers were almost totally gray. He had bushy, still totally black caterpillar like eyebrows over his hazel eyes. He had a light nervous tic on the right side of his face. He was a skinny, timid man around a hundred-twenty pounds soaking wet, and it was giving him the benefit of the doubt. His wrinkled face and sallow complexion made him look like he was in his sixties. His bland brown suit showed traces of wear on the cuffs and hung on his narrow frame as if the suit belonged to a larger man and it was wrinkled as if he slept in it. His brown shoes were well worn and scuffed with traces of mud on the toe as well as around the edge of the soles. Sir Edward’s hands were soft and slender as it they never did any manual work. His hands were constantly in motion; flexing his fingers and rubbing his hands together anxiously. If he wasn’t rubbing his hands together, he was scratching his side whiskers, first on one side then the other. Sir Edward was somewhat effeminate maybe because he still lived with his mother when most men his age had wives and children of their own. Maybe his mother dominated over him.

I’m a bachelor man. I’ve never been married. I live with my aged mother. Sir Edward paused. I woke up several mornings over the last year or so with strange, unfamiliar objects laying with me in my bed. Things I know aren’t mine and I have no idea how they ended up in my bed, Sir Edward said. He fidgeted as he spoke as if he was too nervous to say what he wanted to say. He acted as if he was anxious about telling his problems to two young ladies. His mother taught him to be respectful towards all women. He didn’t know how respectful it was telling these two young ladies all he had to tell.

This morning I woke up to find a bloody, severed head of what I think was a young woman laying between my feet at the foot of my bed. Her eyes were wide open and staring up at me.

Adaline Montgomery and her younger sister, Genevieve, married twin brothers, Lords Addison and Garrett Halverson a little over a year ago. Adaline was twenty-two years old, and was taller than the average woman in the city at six feet. She had lustrous, raven black hair and a full figure, with a narrow face, a long pointed nose and high cheekbones leading down to a pointed chin. Her cheeks were naturally rosy. Her teeth were straight and white in her narrow mouth. Adaline inherited her long, slender fingers from her mother, Lady Eleanor Montgomery, a virtuoso harpsichordist. Anyone of Adaline's physical attributes taken by itself could make her look very plain, but taken all together, Adaline Halverson was a beautiful woman. She was smart and wise to the ways of the world. Adaline attended the best girls schools in he country and spent the year prior to her marriage attending an exclusive finishing school in Switzerland. Between her sister and herself, Adaline was the alpha sister. Adaline always strived for what she wanted and usually succeeded in all her endeavors.

Genevieve Halverson could’ve passed for Adaline's twin sister, but for three obvious differences. One, Genevieve just turned twenty years old. Two, Genevieve was ten inches shorter than her older sister at five feet two. And third, Genevieve was a kinder, gentler and more empathetic woman than her sister and usually acted as Adaline's conscience.

Genevieve also attended the same girls school and together with her sister the same finishing school in Switzerland. Away from home by themselves and out from under their parent's direct control the sisters had the time of their lives. Their parents confessed the year Genevieve and Adaline spent in Switzerland was a quiet one in the Montgomery’s house.

Are you alright? Genevieve asked. Would you like a glass of water?

No thank you, I’m fine. Why do you ask? Adaline thought he didn’t look well at all.

You seem ill at ease, Adaline said.

I’ve never consulted detectives before. I’m nervous.

There is nothing to be nervous about. We are only chatting like old friends, Genevieve said trying to calm their visitor.

Take your time and tell us what is on your mind, Adaline said.

I don’t understand where these things I’m finding in my bed come from, Sir Edward said.

You mean to say you have no idea how these things end up in your bed? Genevieve asked.

None whatsoever.

Let us start at the beginning. What things are you finding in your bed? Adaline asked.

"At first it was little things. The first thing I found in my bed was a small silver framed miniature portrait of a young woman. I didn’t recognize her. It was about eighteen or nineteen months ago. The next time it was a man’s leather wallet.

Was there any identification in the wallet? Genevieve asked.

There was a calling card in the wallet. The only thing engraved on the card was a name.

Whose name was engraved on the card? Adaline asked.

I think if I remember correctly, it was Percy Hunter. I wracked my brain to think if I knew a Percy Hunter. I don’t know anyone by that name, Sir Edward said, shaking his head.

Did you find anything else? Genevieve asked.

One time it was a beautiful teacup perfect in every way. It didn’t match the tea set mother has in the house. Next it was a black metal candlestick holder, then a mason’s hammer and chisel, both looked used and both had marble dust and dried mortar on them. Why would I have a mason’s hammer and chisel in my bed?

Edward’s face turned bright red. One time I found a lady’s intimate undergarment laying on the pillow so close to my face I could smell her scent.

Could it have belonged to your mother? Genevieve asked.

No, this was the kind of garment a younger woman would wear.

A child? Adaline asked.

Sir Edward turned a deeper shade of red. I don’t want to appear too forward, but it would be like something like either of you would wear." Genevieve’s face turned pink.

Adaline grinned at her sister’s discomfort. Anything else? she asked.

The things were mostly household items.

How many things did you find in your bed on waking? Adaline asked.

Altogether thirteen or fourteen, maybe more. I don't remember.

Did you find all of these things at the same time? Adaline asked.

No. Only one item at a time over about a year and a half.

What did you do with the items? Adaline asked.

I put them in my chest of drawers.

And all thirteen items were household or personal items? Adaline asked.

Yes, except this last one, the severed head. The drawing room became deadly silent.

Chapter 2

Did you recognize the woman whose head you found in your bed? Adaline asked after she overcame the initial shock of hearing Sir Edward's statement.

No.

Was the woman the same as the one in the silver framed portrait? Genevieve asked.

Yes, it could have been, but I can't say for sure. Sir Edward paused. It was horrible. I didn't want to look at it, it scared me to look at it. I turned away from it.

You say you found the silver framed portrait a year and a half ago and the head you found this morning and you think they could be the same person? Adaline asked.

If it is the same person, it means whoever severed the woman's head also visited the woman a year and a half ago, Adaline thought.

I can understand how shocking the sight of a woman's severed head would be for you, but we need more information from you. Are you sure you never saw the woman before this morning? Genevieve asked.

I told you before, I didn't recognize the woman, Sir Edward said.

I asked if you were sure you never saw the woman before, Genevieve said.

I never saw the woman before.

What did you do with the severed head? Adaline asked.

I didn't want to touch it. I left it where it was, Sir Edward said.

Then the head should still be in your bed, Genevieve said.

It was there when I came to you.

Did you contact Scotland Yard? Adaline asked.

No, I thought they would accuse me of killing her and cutting off her head, Sir Edward said. Adaline thought his arrest may very well still be a possibility.

Why would Scotland Yard arrest you? Adaline asked.

I don't know, they just would, Sir Edward said.

Adaline pause to think. Did you murder the woman and cut off her head? She asked.

God no. I didn't kill her. No one said anything for a full minute while the tension in the room dissipated.

Then perhaps we should go to your room and visit your lady friend, Adaline said. As she stood to leave, She leaned over and whispered something to Lathrop Jones, one of their footmen and their chief assistant in their investigations.

Sir Edward, anxious to end the discussion and be done with the whole sordid conversation with the detectives, hurried from the room. Adaline and Genevieve followed behind. Once outside, he stopped and looked back at Adaline and Genevieve. The look on his face told Adaline he realized they were now on their way back to his rooms and the severed head laying in his bed. The thought petrified him.

What did you whisper to Lathrop Jones? Genevieve asked Adaline as she watched Sir Edward trying to decide whether to take them to his rooms or run away.

I asked him to go to Scotland Yard and have Detective Superintendent Woodruff meet us at Sir Edward's flat. A severed head is a police matter. Sir Edward should have sent for the police as soon as he found the head, Adaline said.

Unless he murdered the woman himself, Genevieve said.

There is that, Adaline said, with an ironic grin.

The sun shone brightly in the pale blue sky while the white cottony clouds sailed across the sky pushed by strong breezes of the crisp fall day. The breezes cooled the air and blew the fog of coal smoke from over London turning their carriage ride a pleasant outing.

Sir Edward's lived in a four room flat, which in more prosperous times, was half of the entire third floor of a once magnificent, single family townhouse located in what used to be a fashionable neighborhood. In the past fifty years the neighborhood fell on hard times. The affluent single families moved further up town and the lower classes filled the void. The lower classes couldn't afford to purchase the house so investors purchased them. The new buyers realized they could make more money by subdividing the houses into six individual rental flats, two on each floor.

Sir Edward's flat consisted of a living room, the room at one time may have been an informal sitting room, a small room behind a closed door presumably his mother sleeping room, and a his sleeping room. A small corner of the sitting room had been partitioned off for a water closet. Next to the water closet was a gas hotplate, a cold water tap, a small metal sink with a drain pipe leading into the wall. Next to the sink were a few cheap falling apart cabinets.

The wooden doors, window trim as well as the elaborately milled crown molding at the confluence of the walls and ceiling had been painted a cheap off white when the house was divided into flats. Time and life aged the white paint to a now dull gray. The flat and the furnishings, like its inhabitant, looked worn and destitute.

Sir Edward, please show us your sleeping room, Adaline said. He didn't respond for a few seconds.

Is there some reason why you do not want to show us your sleeping room? Genevieve asked.

It's not seemly for two ladies such as yourselves to enter my sleeping room without your husbands chaperoning you.

We are here at your request to investigate the severed head you found in your bed, are we not? Adaline asked.

Yes, but...

No buts. Do you want us to help you or not? Adaline asked.

Yes.

Then let us get on with it, Adaline said.

Sir Edward tentatively opened the door as if he was afraid the severed head would jump out and attack him. He stepped back allowing Genevieve and Adaline to enter his sleeping room. Both Adaline and Genevieve's eyes were instantaneously transfixed on the woman's head still resting in the center of the foot of Sir Edward's bed facing the head of the bed.

Genevieve stared at the raw and red hacked neck now covered in the victim's dried blood. The long blood caked blond hair settled the question of the sex of the victim. The head was that of a woman. Sir Edward was right, it was horrible. It looked like something one would see in a butcher's shop only this head was human. The woman's blue eyes were wide open in horror as she realized the end of her life was at hand. She must have been a pretty woman in life because she was a pretty in death if you could get past the horrible expression on her face. Dried and caked blood matted her blond hair at the back of her head to her skull like a cap. Blood dried around the raggedly cut neck. The cut marks on her flesh looked as though the head had been hacked at repeatedly by some sort of large and very dull knife. The blood running from her left nostril and ear dried in place as well as the blood on her left cheek and the left side of her chin. Her face was twisted with her final pain. Without the living jaw muscles holding her jaw closed, her mouth hung wide open revealing a bulging, purple tongue. A pool of dried blood covered an area of the bed where the severed head rested. The stub of her severed spinal cord could be seen in the red and gory hacked muscles of her open neck. Genevieve had to force down the bile rising in her throat. Adaline had never seen such carnage before even after helping Dr. Ellsworth sew up several serious knife wounds. (Deadly Wives).

To take her mind off of the severed head, Adaline looked around Sir Edward's bedchamber. It was a small room, only about a hundred square feet. A single iron frame bed with a patina of light rust sat in one corner. The once white bedding was now a dingy gray and rumpled. The severed head sat prominently at the foot.

A small worn and scratched wooden table sat next to the head of the bed. On the table rested a flat black painted tin saucer like base with a loop handle riveted to the base. Also riveted to the base was a small, narrow cup wide enough to hold the base of a candle. In the cup was a short stub of candle. Over the years, melted wax dripped down the cup and pooled in the base. Next to the candle holder was an old, small, well worn, black leather covered Bible. A fine layer of dust covered the Bible.

An old, green painted and chipped, chest of drawers stood on the opposite corner of the room and had a mismatched wash basin and a water pitcher rested on the top. The top rim of the washbasin had chips missing from several places. The water in the bowl has a twinge of pink in it. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a small wooden table and a wooden ladder back chair. The table at one time had been painted red, but most of the paint on the top had faded to a pinkish orange and had a weathered patina as if it had been left outside in the elements for a long while and brought back inside for Edward. The chair had been painted brown at one time and several of the joints needed to be reglued. A dingy gray rug covered the floor in the center of the room. Foot traffic around the table, in front of the chest of drawers and by the bed wore the pile down to the jute backing.

What have we here? Detective Superintendent Woodruff asked startling everyone still mesmerized by the severed head.

Who are you? Sir Edward asked.

I am Detective Superintendent Rycroft Woodruff of Scotland Yard, he said. Woodruff took a step into the room and looked around. His eyes fastened on the severed head. He walked closer to the bed, bent slightly to get a better look and studied the severed head.

Rycroft Woodruff was a 27 year veteran of Scotland Yard rising from the rank of constable up to his present rank of Detective Superintendent. He was forty-nine years old with a ruddy complexion, red veins on his nose from his fondness for cheap scotch whisky. His teeth were stained with tobacco and the front upper and lower teeth were worn down from chewing on the stem of his pipe. He wore the same brown suit he has worn every other time Adaline and Genevieve talked with him. On his feet he wore his old brown brogans.

Constable, he called out.

The constable who had been standing outside the door stepped into the room and said: Yes sir? Woodruff pointed in the direction of the severed head.

The constable's eyes widened. Jaysus, he exclaimed.

Send someone to the morgue and summon the coroner, Woodruff said. The constable left without saying a word.

Lady Adaline, Lady Genevieve how nice to see you both – again, he said with an upward roll of his eyes as if to say he really didn't mean it. He turned to face Sir Edward. And you are?

I am Sir Edward Colegraves, at your service sir.

Is this your flat? Woodruff asked.

Yes. I live here with my mother. Woodruff looked around the room wondering how a knight of the realm can live in this hovel.

Where is your mother now? Woodruff asked.

She went to Bristol to visit her sister, Sir Edward said.

How long has she been away? Woodruff asked.

She left on the last train last night.

I assume she knows nothing about this head? Woodruff asked.

No she knows nothing about it. I wish to God I didn't know anything about it either, Sir Edward said, shaking his head. Woodruff looked askance at Sir Edward.

Is this your bed? Woodruff asked, looking at the bed.

Yes.

Who is she? Woodruff asked pointing to the severed head.

I don't know, Sir Edward said.

Do you know how she got in your bed? Woodruff asked.

No.

How can you not know how a severed head ended up in your bed? Woodruff asked. Adaline and Genevieve remained silent leaving Woodruff to conduct his own interrogation.

I found it right there when I woke up this morning.

Woodruff walked over to the chest of drawers and peered into the washbasin sitting on top of the chest of drawers. Adaline knew he saw the same thing she did. How come the water in this basin is pink? He asked. He noticed.

I washed the dried blood from my hands.

Was it her blood? Woodruff asked.

I don't know.

Was it your blood? Woodruff asked.

Sir Edward patted all over his body looking for blood. I don't think so.

How did you get the blood on your hands? Woodruff asked.

I don't know. It was on my hands when I woke this morning.

When you woke up this morning the head was in your bed and blood was on your hands. Is that correct? Woodruff asked.

Yes.

You never mentioned to us when we talked you had blood on your hands this morning, Adaline said.

You talked with Sir Edward before you came here? Woodruff asked Adaline.

Yes we did. She told him of the earlier conversation between Sir Edward, Genevieve and herself.

He should've contacted Scotland Yard, Woodruff said.

We know. You are here because we sent Lathrop Jones to Scotland Yard to notify you, Adaline said. Woodruff shrugged as he always did when confronted with an undeniable truth.

Woodruff looked skeptically at Sir Edward. Did you have blood on your hands when you retired last night? Woodruff asked.

No.

Would you mind removing all your clothes and let me look for fresh, open wounds on your body? Woodruff asked.

Sir Edward's face turned red. Not with these ladies present I won't.

Woodruff chuckled. Ladies, could you please step from the room. I'll call you back when I've finishing my examination of Sir Edward. Without a word, Adaline and Genevieve stepped from the room.

Sir Edward, please remove all your clothes, Woodruff said. Minutes later Sir Edward stood in front of Woodruff wearing only his drawers. Please remove the drawers.

Sir Edward's face turned red again as he removed his drawers and stood totally nude before Woodruff. Turn around slowly please. Sir Edward did as requested. Satisfied there were no open wounds anywhere on his body, Woodruff told him to put his clothes back on. Unless you vomited blood, the blood on your hands was not yours," Woodruff said. He called Genevieve and Adaline back into the bedchamber.

If it were my blood, I think I would know how it got on me, Sir Edward said.

We have to go on the theory, for the time being, the blood you washed from your hand belonged to the dead woman, Woodruff said.

Did you murder this woman and cut off her head? He asked.

No.

If you don't know how the head got into your bed, how can you be sure you didn't murder and decapitate this woman? Woodruff asked.

I don't know, Sir Edward said sadly.

Chapter 3

Detective Superintendent Woodruff, your constable said you had a severed head on your hands for me, Randall