Hyde Read online

  "With conviction and faith, you can resist the devil that lives within you."

  The two embraced again and Jekyll left with a spring in his step, but leaving me stricken with grief. He had done it. Jekyll had made the decision to end my existence. Yet my panic eased by the fact that Jekyll did not attempt to destroy his chemicals or abandon my clothes or home. It seemed his conviction was not as strong as he had led the priest to believe.

  Yet Jekyll did not drink the potion that night. He read his religious books, said his prayers, and then went to sleep. I waited until Jekyll breathed heavily, truly asleep, and began the struggle to assert my will once more. It went more quickly this time, and I found myself transformed into my own body within the hour. I waited a moment to ensure that I was truly in control, then rushed out to hail Lucky and then to the pub.

  Rebecca usually waited for me on a particular stool, but tonight I found another in that stool. Indeed, Rebecca was nowhere to be found in the entire pub.

  I left to bid Lucky escort me to her boarding house. At her door, her flatmate Elizabeth answered.

  "Where is she? With another client?"

  "Out on the town," said Elizabeth. "She's with her boyfriend."

  I can think of few words that would have devastated me as those four words did in that moment. I felt weak, dizzy, and actually leaned against the wall as I took her comment in. "Boyfriend? No, I am her sole companion."

  Elizabeth smirked. "Oh, sorry, love. I thought you knew. She starting going about with a minister of Parliament two weeks ago, Sir Danvers Carew."

  Sir Carew, the man whose presence hounded every aspect of my life, had taken from me all that I cared to have. I had to restrain myself from grasping Elizabeth's slender throat, grasping hold of the door's frame instead as I hissed, "Where is she? Where did they go?"

  "They went to see that new play, 'The Looking-Glass of Amelia White.'"

  I heard no further, but rushed from the boarding house into Lucky's cab. I barked out the address and rode in silence, watching the city sweep by. Every moment drove the knife in my heart an inch further. Rebecca had betrayed me. Of course. I should have known. She had been lying to me all this time. I had expressed my love to her and this had been her repayment. I felt the fool for believing that she had loved me, that anyone could ever love a monster such as myself. Tears even began to burn in my eyes that I had to nearly bite through my lower lip to control. Horrible visions of pain and terror that I would inflict on Rebecca played through my mind, but I knew them to be only visions. In truth, though I wished to hurt her as she had hurt me, I knew I could not. My love for her stifled my hate.

  I arrived at the theatre and had Lucky wait until the intermission when the audience spilled out into the lobby. I left the cab and mingled with the crowd until I turned and came face-to-face with Rebecca. I almost did not recognize her; her face seemed painted more modestly than usual, and her dress less provocative, but her golden curls remained in place.

  She gave me a pleasant smile that collapsed as her eyes settled on me. "Edward? What are you doing here?"

  "Trollop," I snarled. "Is this how you treat your love?"

  Rebecca took my hand and pulled me into a more remote corner of the lobby as she whispered, "What are you talking about?"

  "Carew. Is he your new love? I hope you treat his love better than mine."

  She folded her arms. "Edward, you know my profession."

  "Your profession does not involve attending plays."

  "It does with Sir Carew. He is not content merely to share my bed. He wishes to escort me about the town."

  "And what of his wife?"

  "He and his wife are estranged. They live in the same home, nothing more. Carew craves companionship. I provide it." Rebecca blinked. "Edward, are you jealous?"

  "And how could I not be? I love you."

  "And I love you. But our love is not as simple as that. Look at us, Edward. I am a prostitute. You are a boxer. Where does our future lie?"

  "It lies wherever it leads."

  "That is not enough. I admit, I find being with Carew pleasant. He is able to take me places I have never been. I mingle with higher society."

  "I can take you wherever you wish," I pleaded.

  "No, you cannot. Your wealth is one thing, but status cannot be bought and sold. When I am with Carew, I am the companion of an MP. The world is different for a member of the House of Lords, and I am a part of it. I confess, Sir Carew has offered to make me his mistress. It is an offer I find hard to resist."

  I turned my head away to prevent her from seeing the grief on my face. "So that is what our love is worth to you; the price of a mistress."

  "Edward, please understand. In my heart, I do love you and want to spend my life with you. But I know not who you are. You allow me nothing, not your work, your home, your past. You are a beautiful mystery that I love so much, but do not understand. I do not love Danvers, but he is something solid, complete, someone who can care for me. You disappear for days at a time without a word. Sir Carew is someone I can rely on."

  She squeezed my hand. "I want you to be a part of my life, Edward, more than anyone. But I need more. I must know who you are, where you come from, where you go. Until you can give me that, our love can never be complete."

  I craved then to tell her all, but how could I? How could I explain to her that I and Jekyll were one and the same? That, at any moment, Jekyll could awaken and seize my body like a thief stealing a purse in the night? Indeed, what could I offer her besides uncertainty and grief? With Jekyll's plans to eradicate me, perhaps I would not be long for this world. Perhaps it would be better for her to pursue another.

  But then I noticed that her shawl had slipped down. It exposed a bruise on her neck in thin lines that I could not help but recognise.

  "That," I said, pointing to her throat, "was caused by no door."

  She quickly pulled her shawl up to conceal it again. "Yes, it was."

  "No. A hand caused that. Indeed, I have created many bruises like it in the past. Who dared do that to you?"

  She looked away from me, telling me more by her silence than she could with her voice.

  I could barely contain my rage as I whispered, "Carew did that to you?"

  "He is an enthusiastic man," said Rebecca, "with a quick temper and wont to strike. But not often and not more than I can handle."

  "He would dare to harm you? Say the word and I will send him to lay in the hospital next to his son."

  "No. As I said, it is nothing I cannot control. I need his patronage more than I need healthy flesh."

  A man approached me from behind, and I turned to find Sir Carew. He held two glasses of wine before him and frowned. "Rebecca? Who is this vagabond you speak with?"

  I drew myself up to him, but still came only to his chest. I put the full force of my anger into my eyes and voice as I said, "My name is--"

  Rebecca interrupted me. "Albert Penniman. We were merely discussing the surprising turn of the play."

  I sought to interject, but saw her purpose. If I confessed to being Edward Hyde, Carew would have me arrested. Indeed, I saw a policeman standing nearby, waving his truncheon as he surveyed the street.

  Yet I could not slink away. I still said, "Indeed, we were discussing the play. But I am prepared to copy the bruises you have placed on this good woman on your flesh, sir. It is a lowly cur that sinks to striking a woman."

  Carew barked out a laugh as he looked down his nose at me. "You dare to threaten me. I'll have you know I am a minister of Parliament."

  "It matters little to me. I would thrash the good Lord himself for striking a woman."

  "Then you are as foolish as you are ugly. My advise to you, Mister Penniman, is to mind your own affairs or find yourself behind bars very quickly."

  In that moment, I would have faced the gallows gladly if it meant protecting my beloved. But behind me, Rebecca took my hand and squeezed it lightly as she whispered, "Be safe, Edward. For me."


  It was only by her request that I relented. But I held up a finger so Carew could see its thick and twisted length as I said, "Be warned, Sir Carew. It is only by this lady's grace that you leave unharmed. But injure that woman once more and you shall see me again, and it shall be the last thing you see. I do not fear prison. Indeed, it is where an animal such as myself truly belongs."

  With that, I left them and returned to the cab, fighting the urge to tear Carew apart with my bare hands.

  Lucky called out to me, "Have you forgotten your match, sir? Labonte will be waiting for you."

  "Take me," said I, and little else. I could think of nothing but the misery I felt. Rebecca was out at that moment with my mortal enemy, and I could do nothing of it.

  We arrived at Labonte's boxing club and I went through the motions to dress for the fight, barely conscious of it. I stepped through the ropes to face Frederick Moody.

  Labonte gave the instructions, then called for the fight to begin. I charged at my opponent, fists thrown. Moody surprised me with his speed as he easily ducked to one side and allowed my fist to hit his forearm. His fist came from nowhere to snap me on the jaw. As I reeled, another fist pounded into me.

  Moody hit me with some more body shots, quicker than I could block, and my ribs exploded in pain. He pressed me against the ropes with some more body blows. I tasted blood in my mouth as I ate three jabs from Moody before the bell rang, signaling the end of the round.

  Jeremiah went to my side to apply a plaster to my split lip. "Moody's opened strong. He's having a good round, and you haven't gotten any solid shots. You need to remember what I told you, to keep on the defensive."

  "I am a fighter," I snapped. "Not a little girl. I get into the ring to hurt him, not to let him pummel me."

  "A good defense is a good offense, Hyde. Pick your moment."

  I spat blood on the canvas. "I shall. Right now."

  The bell rang, signaling the second round.

  I rose and threw myself at Moody with a straight right hand to the nose to open the round. His nose mashed in, but no more than it did before. In return, Moody threw a hard hook to my gut that I never saw coming and made me gag. I tasted the sour flavour of vomit in my mouth.

  Before I could recover, he landed a short uppercut to my chin. My head snapped back and I saw stars on the rough-cut wooden ceiling. The screams of the crowd seemed to fade for a moment, but I would not allow myself to black out. I straightened and swung wildly at Moody.

  Moody blocked and his punches became a flurry as he forced me into the corner. I tried to recover my balance and quickly throw another punch, but another fist struck my chest. I felt a wave of dizziness as another fist pounded me. I was confused. This should not be happening to me. I had beaten men twice this man's size, and more than one at a time. Labonte's words returned to me that I required training. He was right. I had never fought a professional boxer before.

  I imagined Moody's face as Sir Carew's instead. The fury rushed through me like blood in my veins. I charged at him, hurling my fists into his cheeks and chin, but he blocked them easily.

  The crowds jeered and called out insults to me as more blows rained onto me. Suddenly, I found myself on the floor with Labonte calling out numbers. He was already at seven. I must have blacked out. I struggled to rise to my feet. My opponent stood in his corner, holding onto the ropes and smirking at me. His face reminded me of the face of Sir Carew as he mocked me.

  My rage drove me back to my feet. I charged at my opponent again. He threw a fist. I blocked it with my forearm in an imitation of his earlier movement. My other arm became a piston as I drove it into my opponent's side. He hunched over. I pounded into him again and again. My fists dropped lower until I punched him in the groin.

  The audience erupted in a roar of boos and cries of disapproval. I heard Labonte call an end to the match and my opponent the winner. I did not care. I drove both fists down onto the back of his head. He collapsed onto his stomach on the floor. I began kicking him in the sides and in the head.

  Hands seized my arms and shoulders. They dragged me from the ring, even as I continued to flail and kick.

  Labonte loomed in front of me. His eyes blazed with anger. "You are banned from this ring, Hyde, and every other ring. You have ended your career. You shall never fight professionally again."

  He swung his fist and punched me in the stomach, and my already aching gut exploded in pain. More fists pounded me as they began to drag me out, this time random strangers who were not held back. Members of the audience also hurled beer and spit to soak my face and shoulders. I found myself lying on the sidewalk then, aching and exhausted.

  Lucky took my arm and pulled me towards the cab. "We must be away, sir. Those men in there are ready to kill you for sure."

  He dragged me towards the cab as I murmured to return me to Jekyll's home. Men stepped into our path. I took them to be more outraged gamblers until I saw their uniforms.

  "Halt," one of the police officers yelled.

  I leapt from Lucky's arms, hoping to escape, until they rushed to surround me.

  I was trapped. I found myself in their arms and dragged away within moments.

  Chapter Nineteen - The Inspectors Examine Hyde

  THEY THREW me into the back of a Black Maria, where I sat on a bench, glaring down at the foul mud caked on my boots. When I heard the door unlock, I did not bother to look up. I knew who it was.

  "Good evening, Inspector Newcomen," I said.

  The cell door closed and locked behind him. "Good evening, Mister Hyde. I must admit surprise at your knowledge of my identity."

  "You have hounded me enough that I feel I have already met you."

  "I could say the same for the opposing reason." Inspector Newcomen stood over me. "You have caused quite a bit of noise, Mister Hyde. There are those who consider you a curse upon this city."

  "Only those foolish enough to cross my path." I raised my head to glare at the stern man before me.

  "If you're including me in that generalization, I must agree. You have caused a considerable amount of distress to me personally. There has been significant pressure to secure your capture for your assault on the Carew boy."

  I smiled. "I admit to a certain satisfaction on that account."

  "As do I. The attention has been difficult, but also rewarding. While my investigative skills have been called into question while you were at large, securing your capture virtually assures an upward course in my career."

  I feigned surprise. "Have you secured my capture?"

  Newcomen let out a bark of laughter. "You seated before me in a Black Maria with chains upon your wrists and ankles? I should say so."

  "You are mistaken, Inspector. I shall be free before the rising of the sun."

  Newcomen sat down across from me, pulled out a cigarette, and lit a match to heat the end. Around the butt in his mouth, Newcomen spoke. "I'm afraid it is you who are mistaken, Hyde. I find your confidence typical of the criminal mind. You are unaware that you have already been beaten. I am the victor, Hyde, and wish to discuss your crimes in further detail."

  I shrugged. "As you wish."

  Newcomen produced a notebook with which he began to write. "Why did you assault the son of Sir Carew?"

  "He provoked me."

  "In what manner?"

  "He insulted my appearance."

  Newcomen raised an eyebrow. "He could hardly have been the only one in your life to do so."

  "He was not the first, nor the last, but shared the same fate as the others."

  Newcomen wrote carefully. "Fair enough. I was told that you made indecent suggestions to Carew's companion."

  "That much is true."

  "A man would hardly be blamed for taking offense to such an act."

  "Carew was entitled to take issue, but should have been prepared for the consequences."

  Newcomen raised an eyebrow towards me. "I find your lack of remorse intriguing. Carew was quite badly injured. He remains in recover
y at this very moment. Do you not feel any regret towards your actions?"

  I leaned back against the carriage's wall behind me. "Carew spends his days and nights in his father's country estate, treated by the finest medical staff the MP can afford. He eats well and sleeps upon comfortable linen. I find it hard to summon sympathy for such a predicament, particularly considering my own."

  "He may be in comfortable surroundings, but little can be done for his pain save the occasional draught of laudanum. I'm sure Carew would prefer to be healthy."

  "I'm sure he would, as I would prefer to be handsome."

  Newcomen's mustache curled up in one corner in a ruthless smile. "Carew had the option of being healthy. You could never be handsome."

  "Exactly why I sought to impose that state upon him."

  Newcomen regarded me with narrowed eyes. "I detect a certain bitterness towards Humanity about you. You are a misanthrope."

  "You are correct. I feel little affection towards the world that has spurned me."

  "Is that why you seek to punish all those you encounter?" Newcomen flipped through his notepad. "I attempted to record your incidents of brutality. In the long run, it seemed easier to record all those who were not injured by you. You are a violent man, Hyde."

  "It is a violent world."

  "And you contribute to that assessment."

  "That much is true. Yet in your investigation, you must have noted that none of my assaults were unwarranted."

  Carew exhaled a cloud of smoke as he nodded. "Indeed. I took note that the earliest attacks were preceded by insults upon your person. Yet eyewitnesses assert that you seemed to encourage such insults by your behaviour, almost as if you wished to provoke a fight."

  "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But it was the choice of my victims whether to respond in kind."

  "I shall not debate that point with you. Later on, you challenged men to brawls for substantial sums of money. I find it incorrigible that you would seek to profit from your brutality."

  I spread my hands. "I have few skills in this world, sir."

  Newcomen turned to a new page, leading me to believe my exploits filled a large portion of his notepad. "I also found reports that you frequent opium dens."