Hyde Read online

  "You'll pay for this," the girl's father yelled. "We can and will make such a scandal out of this to make your name foul from one end of London to the other. If you have any friends or any credit, we will see that you shall lose them."

  I had no friends, but decided not to mention such. I merely said, "If you choose to make capital out of this accident, I am naturally helpless. No gentleman but wishes to avoid a scene. Name your figure."

  My offer seemed to catch them unawares, as they exchanged glances for some time before the girl's mother called out, "A hundred pounds."

  It was a ridiculous sum of money. Perhaps they hoped that the figure would be crippling to me, giving them an excuse to attack me, but they knew not what I was. Unfortunately, I had no funds with me, having spent the lot on drink and debauchery. I had to return to Jekyll's home. I knew this carried a risk of exposing our secret again, but had no choice. I simply said, "Fair enough. Follow me."

  I led the pack of harpies to the back entrance of Jekyll's, where they watched closely as I unlocked the door with the key and slipped inside. I dashed to the safe in the laboratory, where I discovered to my dismay that we had no bank notes left. All that remained was ten pounds in gold. I worried not about spending off Jekyll's fortune, since he had more in the bank, but at that moment, had nothing left. I had to write a cheque for the remainder.

  I then realised that I could not sign my name to the cheque. It was in Jekyll's name. But surely it would raise concern that I should enter a home that is not mine and emerge with a check for ninety pounds signed by someone else at four in the morning. Yet I had no choice. I was forced to sign Jekyll's name instead.

  I stepped out and handed the gold and the check over, hoping no one would notice. But the older man immediately called out, "See here, this does not wash. I happen to know the man who signed this cheque. This is the signature of Doctor Henry Jekyll, a man of fine reputation. He would never agree to pay an amount such as this for a blackguard as yourself. And a man does not, in real life, walk into a cellar door at four in the morning and come out with another man's cheque for close upon a hundred pounds. This cheque is a forgery meant to put us off."

  The group gave off a cry of anger and loomed towards me as if to tear me to pieces.

  I maintained my calm as I said, "Fear not for the cheque's authenticity. I will stay with you till the banks open and cash the cheque myself."

  "Fine," said the old man. "We shall wait at my quarters for the banks to open."

  He led the gang through the streets, making his acquaintance along the way. "My name is Richard Enfield, by the way."

  "Enfield," called out the girl's father. "I know you. You're the barrister. Very pleased to make your acquaintance and humbled that such as yourself would stop to help in our time of need. I am Victor Trent and this is my wife Abigail and my daughter Lucille."

  "Charmed," said Enfield. "What brings your family out on such a late hour?"

  "Our daughter ran away in the middle of the night over an argument with her mother, as some children are wont to do. We were right on the verge of reclaiming her when we came to meet this rogue."

  They all turned to me and heaped their scorn and murderous desires upon me.

  "And what would your name be, sir?" asked Enfield. "Short of the devil himself?"

  "Edward Hyde," I said.

  "Now we know the name of the monster."

  I said nothing in response.

  Enfield's home was well kept and his servants produced a modest breakfast. The four of them discussed the night's events and took turns in heaping their contempt upon me. I merely stood apart in a corner and watched them with contempt.

  "Never have I seen such a man," said the girl's mother. "Who would trample a little girl without even so much as a glance back?"

  "Aye," said the father. "Surely he would have felt her or heard her cries. I can only assume he did such on purpose."

  At that point, the girl wailed out, "Monkey Man! It's the Monkey Man!"

  "So it is," cried the father. "I remember you now. You had a confrontation with my daughter the other day. So this is your revenge, eh? You are a villainous sort, the reincarnation of Satan himself."

  Enfield leaned forward. "See here, what is this business about a monkey?"

  The father described the events of the earlier night and Enfield regarded me with coldness. "So for the sake of a child's fun, you would deign to injure her in this way. Sir, if there were not a lady present, I should teach you a lesson in manners."

  I broke my silence. "Sir, let the lady's presence not trouble you. It shant trouble me."

  I clenched my hands into fists. The sight of their hairy bulk caused the old man to quail as I knew it would. Silence fell over the group then until they turned the conversation to other matters.

  When the time came for the banks to open, they led me to the bank and approached the desk.

  "May I help you, sir?" asked the teller.

  Enfield produced the cheque and handed it to the teller, saying, "We have this cheque given to us by this scalawag, and we have every reason to believe it to be a forgery."

  The clerk examined the cheque and said, "No, sir, I recognise this signature. It is indeed the signature of Doctor Jekyll, and I can assure you he has the funds to cover it."

  The clerk counted out ninety pounds in gold onto the desk and handed it to the girl's family. They stood stunned for a moment, perhaps both by their good fortune, and the strangeness of the night's events, but finally the father murmured, "This gives you a reprieve from us, but not from God."

  "You shall burn in Hell," the girl's mother screamed.

  With those final insults, they left.

  Enfield remained behind, glaring at me. "I find this whole matter quite disturbing, sir. I find you a damnable man and the man who signed that cheque to be the absolute prince. In fact, I consider Jekyll to be a close friend of mine. Surely there can only be one explanation for his giving you those funds at such a late hour, and that can only be blackmail. Perhaps you have some hold on the man, for which I am profoundly troubled. If so, I assure you that you will be found out and brought to justice."

  "Spare me your lectures, old man," I snapped. "The sum is paid, the affair is over, and I have no more use for you and your insults. Be gone."

  With that, I spun and left the bank. I returned to Jekyll's home. I desired nothing more. After drinking the potion, Jekyll simply retired to his library where he sat silent at the window, watching the pedestrians go by.

  Poole entered with the morning paper and a note on a tray. "Good morning, sir. We have just received a message. I regret to convey the news that your father, Doctor Graham Jekyll, has passed away."

  Jekyll stared at Poole for a moment, then said, "Cancel my appointments. Call me a carriage."

  Poole obeyed and within minutes, Jekyll sat in a carriage as it wound its way through the streets. A listless rain fell from the cloudy skies over London as Jekyll rode to the church. He sat in the carriage, watching people scurry through the streets, dripping wet from the rain. The horse's hooves splashing through puddles in the streets made the only sound that accompanied Jekyll as he sat in silence. When the carriage rolled to a halt in front of the church, Jekyll paused a moment with his hand on the door as if preparing himself, then rose and stepped out. A small child hurried up to brush the mud from his boots and Jekyll tossed him a coin before retreating through the doors of the church.

  Father Stevenson stood at the front of the church, lighting candles. He caught sight of Jekyll and immediately set his candles down. "What is it, my son?"

  Jekyll's mouth opened, but released no sound. It took him a moment before he could whisper, "I released him, Father."

  The vicar quickly led Jekyll into his office, where he sat down and listened as Jekyll gave an account of the events that passed.

  Jekyll paced in front of the vicar as he blurted, "I unleashed him, Father. I unleashed Hyde on my own father. I knew what he was capable of,
and I did it, anyway."

  "You were angry, my son," said Father Stevenson. "And you were repressed. Hyde seems to have been able to say to your father what you could not."

  "That was my thinking as well, but he went too far. I fear that Hyde is responsible for my father's death. The things he said were so brutal, and were it not for my father's manservant, I fear Hyde would surely have beaten my father to death. Surely such a shock must have contributed to his demise."

  "Your father was already on his deathbed, my son."

  "But who knows how death could have been stayed were it not for my intervention. My father's blood is on Hyde's hands and mine as well. And as for the affair with the little girl, that is too monstrous to contemplate. I knew that Hyde lacked morals, but never dreamed him capable of such behaviour."

  "Now you see the depths to which the human soul is capable. Surely now you can see how this experiment with Hyde must be abandoned."

  Jekyll wiped a hand across his face. "True enough, father. I shall consider it. But I find myself somehow unable to release Hyde just yet. I believe that the events of last night might have chastened him. He has already come close to finding himself behind bars on several occasions. Surely he will have learned his lesson by now."

  "My son, I fear you have become ensnared by this Hyde in a web of sin."

  "Of course, you're right, Father. I shall use the drug no longer."

  I can assure you, I gave way to panic then. If Jekyll refused to take the drug again, I would be trapped inside of him for the rest of our lives. I had visions of spending the months and years ahead, forced to watch Jekyll live his life while I could but observe, impotent. I would be condemned to a sentence of life in a prison of Jekyll's mind. Like a caged rat, I would surely go mad. And what would happen if Jekyll died? Would I die as well or would I continue to live inside his decaying corpse?

  These are the thoughts that ran through me as Jekyll departed the church. He ordered his carriage to drive home, then had the driver ride slowly down the street. After a time, Jekyll spotted Victor Trent, the father of the girl Lucille from the previous night. He ordered his carriage to stop and got out.

  Jekyll approached the man, who was a coastermonger, selling apples from a street corner. Victor smiled at Jekyll as he approached and said, "Good morning, good sir. Care for an apple today?"

  "Yes. And I should also like to inquire as to the health of your daughter, Lucille."

  The girl's father showed surprise. "My daughter? Very kind of you to ask, sir. She is well. Had a bit of a fright last night when some brute walked over her, but the doctor says she is merely bruised and will recover."

  "Good, good. I was concerned about her welfare after such a spell."

  "May I ask, sir, how you knew about her injuries?"

  "Oh, the man who did the deed was an associate of mine. He came to me last night and requested of me the payment of ninety pounds."

  The face of the girl's father collapsed from a smile to a scowl. "So you're Henry Jekyll?"

  Jekyll smiled wider. "Indeed, I am."

  "Shocked I am that a man of your reputation would assist a Devil like that. Why should you give money to a man who would trample a little girl underfoot?"

  Jekyll fiddled with the head of his cane. "Well, I assure you, sir, I had good reason which I am unable to share. Yet I do sympathise with the troubles of your daughter and reassure you that Hyde will not trouble you or your family again."

  "Surely he won't. Inform Mister Hyde that should I set eyes on him again without my family, I shall not be as restrained as last night. Indeed, I would relish the opportunity to set his face beneath my boot as he did my daughter's. And as far as it concerns you and I, I find you a contemptible man for associating with such a monster, and request that we never speak again as well."

  The girl's father turned and stomped off down the snow-covered street, pushing his cart ahead of him. Jekyll watched him go, then sighed and returned to his home with heavy steps.

  Jekyll went through his day, treating patients, and stopped at the bank to withdraw more cash for his own needs. Afterwards, he enjoyed a meal, spent a few hours reading from the Book of Common Prayer, and finally retiring to bed. He lay in the darkness for quite some time. I could not sleep at the prospect of my imprisonment, so I simply lay there trying to deduce a means of escape. Jekyll seemed asleep, so I was therefore surprised when he finally sat up an hour later.

  Jekyll climbed out of bed and paced the floor of his bedroom, muttering to himself. After a few minutes, Jekyll pulled on a dressing gown, lit a lamp, and left his bedroom.

  Jekyll rushed through the quiet house, down the stairs, and into the dissecting room. His lamp caused shadows to dance on the walls as he rushed through it and up the steps to his laboratory. My heart jumped as he stood at the laboratory's entrance, staring at the glasses of powders and solutions before him. The lamp flickered as his hand trembled.

  Jekyll whispered, "No. I will not. This madness must end."

  My heart sank once again as he slammed the laboratory door and locked it. I felt like screaming in despair as he headed back to his bedroom.

  But Jekyll stopped. He stared down at his candle. His fists clenched. I could feel sweat forming and dripping down his face.

  "No, no, no," whispered Jekyll. "Hold fast."

  But eventually, he did return to his laboratory. Jekyll unlocked the door and gazed once more on his collection of chemicals. He slowly opened the cabinet, took down the required compounds, and compounded the drug. When the fluid changed color and ceased to smoke in the flask, Jekyll regarded the light glittering within it for a moment.

  He whispered, "God forgive me."

  Jekyll swallowed the potion.

  His body convulsed as the change took hold, his bones shrinking and flesh turning until it felt that we would die. Yet the transformation completed, leaving me gasping on the floor.

  I recovered and managed to rise to my feet, whispering, "Hear me, Jekyll. I will not be your prisoner. Our fates are entwined, you and I. As you must make the choice to release me, I make the choice to release you. If you should ever even have the thought of imprisoning me again, I shall destroy the formula and remain as I am forever and you shall find yourself the prisoner in my stead. Either that or I shall throw myself upon a sword and end both our miserable lives."

  It was an empty threat, of course. I had no way of knowing Jekyll's thoughts, save those he transmitted to me by the fluttering. If I changed back and Jekyll destroyed the potion, I would be powerless to stop him. Yet I had to make the attempt. I considered the notion of destroying the laboratory myself at that moment, but I still required Jekyll's identity as a means of escape from the police who hunted for me. Our lives were indeed intertwined.

  I slipped out the back entrance into the night and walked the street until Lucky's cab pulled up alongside me.

  "There you are, sir," he said with a smile. "I thought you might have decided to stay in tonight."

  "Not at all. I was merely detained." I climbed into the cab. "Were you waiting for me, Lucky?"

  "That I was, sir. You are my most profitable fare by far. I earn more in one night with you than I do all week with regular customers. And might I add that I find it a more pleasant experience as well."

  I grunted, then said, "First, I have taken up new lodgings. Take me to my home in Soho."

  I gave the address and Lucky sent us through the streets of London to the dark neighborhood of my residence. I bade him to wait, unlocked the door, and slipped inside.

  I found the home silent. My housekeeper seemed to be asleep. I went to the rooms and found them fully furnished as per my request. I even found my new suits hanging in the wardrobe. It felt good to have a sanctuary of my own to retreat to without the fear of encountering Jekyll's servants or the police. I had my own possessions at last. I had taken one step towards developing my own life independent of Henry Jekyll.

  I changed quickly and savored the feel of well-fitting
clothing for the first time. A mirror confirmed the adequate fit, although my appearance was only slightly improved. It seemed that it would take more than new clothing to cast me in a good light.

  I left my home and said to Lucky as I entered the cab, "I wish some excitement on this night. Take me to another pub, preferably as dangerous as the last."

  "Yes, sir," said Lucky as he sent his horse on down the road. "And might I add, sir, that I have been observing your skill with your fists for some time. You are a skilled fighter."

  "Not skilled, merely ferocious and spry."

  "Be that as it may, sir, I wonder if you had ever considered making a profit off of it."

  I looked up at him. "I'm afraid I don't follow you."

  "Well, I speak of a wager, sir. Hear my proposal. You go into the pub, announce the wager that you shall take on anyone who wishes to fight you. You beat them, win the bet, and reap the rewards."

  I had no interest in more money. Jekyll was wealthy enough to keep the both of us in comfort for some time. Yet the notion of a wager did appeal to me. It would give me a reason to fight beyond simple vengeance. I intended to fight in any event. Why not make a sport of it?

  "Very well," said I. "We shall carry out the bet tonight. Find me the pub. I shall do the rest."

  Lucky nodded eagerly. I had no illusions as to his motivation, but cared little. Let him profit off my brutality if he wished.

  We arrived at a pub that seemed even more decrepit than the last. I stepped off the cab and strode into the bar, summoning the attention of the crowd with raised hands.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," I called out. "A moment of your time. I wish to propose a wager. Any man who believes they beat me at fisticuffs, step forward. Win, and you shall have the prize."

  The crowd stared for a moment until a ripple of laughter passed through them.

  One man called out, "A skinny little whelp such as you thinks he can beat one of us?"

  "He's mad," another man said.

  A man with arms like tree trunks stepped out of the crowd with clenched fists. He towered over me as he growled, "If you be so keen to die, sir, I would be happy to oblige you."