Hyde Page 9

  The laughter came again, along with cries for the money to be set down. I placed several gold sovereigns on the counter, and the money to match it came quickly. I could see Lucky among the crowd, gathering more money for his own bets. No one else seemed willing to bet on my victory besides Lucky, so they all leapt at the chance of what seemed to be a most profitable wager.

  When the bets had been placed, chairs and tables were moved to create a space in the center of the pub.

  I removed my coat and set it aside, then rolled up my sleeves as I said to my opponent, "One moment. This is a new suit. I do not wish to stain it with your blood."

  My opponent bellowed with laughter as did the other patrons of the bar. "Never fear, my dandy fellow. My blood shall not stain your fine clothes. Your blood, however, will stain this floor, but I shan't worry about that. Let's begin!"

  With that, he charged at me, bellowing like a bull. The pub erupted in cheers.

  I allowed him to get close, then stepped aside to allow my opponent to pass. As he did so, I seized hold of his arm and swung him around to crash headfirst into a nearby wall. Before he could rise, I leapt onto his back, sending him down onto the floor again. I took hold of his hair and used it to slam his head onto the floor again and again.

  He managed to brace his hands on the floor and pushed off to throw me to the ground. My opponent faced me with blood pouring from his nose and mouth. His eyes glittered with rage as he lunged at me again.

  Instead of dodging this time, I lunged at him as well. I wrapped my arms around his neck and swung my knees into his groin. He doubled-over, howling in pain. I had to let go, hit the floor, and roll to avoid him landing on top of me as he collapsed.

  I grabbed a mug of beer from a nearby table and cracked it into the back of my opponent's head. I bashed him with the mug again and again until it finally shattered, spraying his bloody scalp with beer.

  I stepped back, breathing heavy from the exertion. My opponent lay still at my feet.

  I looked up. The pub had fallen silent. Faces looked at me with wonder and horror.

  "I win," I breathed.

  Lucky broke the silence by cheering and clapping his hands. "Well done, Mister Hyde, well done."

  Murmurs of disbelief and anger filled the crowds, accompanied by occasional profanity, but they began to lay out the money to Lucky for his bets. It looked like he had made a healthy profit, indeed.

  Two men came forward to drag my opponent out of the pub and dump him on the pavement outside. That seemed to settle the matter, and the pub fell back into normal activity. The crowd parted to give me a wide berth as I approached the counter.

  "A beer," I said to the bartender. "And a cloth."

  The bartender gave me both. I used the cloth to wipe the blood from my hands and arms, then rolled my sleeves back down and put on my coat. I had won the fight and the bet, but as I sat at a stool, drinking my beer, I noted that the patrons seemed little inclined to address me. I was even more lonely than before.

  I finished my drink and headed over to Lucky, who had bought himself a large drink. I said, "Let's go. We're finished here."

  Lucky frowned at his glass. "But I--"

  "I said, we're finished here. I wish to leave. Now."

  "As you wish, sir." Lucky reluctantly set his beer down and followed me out to his cab.

  As I left the bar, I glanced over my shoulder. Everyone seemed to be avoiding my gaze. All except for one.

  It was a woman, roughly my age, wearing heavy makeup that suited her beautiful features well. Long blonde hair fell in curls around her head. She was a woman of loose virtue, from her dress, which put her full bosom on display. It was the first time any woman had ever looked at me with anything less than contempt or loathing. Indeed, she watched me with a coy smile, unafraid.

  I considered returning to approach her, but did not savor the notion of her rejection. I allowed her smile to enlighten my mood somewhat, then departed.

  From there, I bade Lucky to take me to the opium den once more, where the sinful vapors dulled the pain of my existence until the dawn.

  Chapter Ten - The Encounter with Jekyll's Rival

  THE NEXT day, Jekyll made haste to his beloved, Charlotte Glass, once again. Jekyll and I both knew something was wrong the moment he walked into the drawing room and saw Major General Glass smiling. It was not a friendly smile, but a dark and vicious smile like a wolf beholding a flock of unguarded sheep. The general sat before his fire in a comfortable chair with a glass of fine wine in one hand.

  Another man sat across from the general, also cradling a glass. He was a man roughly Jekyll's age, wearing a military uniform. The man glanced up at Jekyll, and looked away while sipping from his glass.

  "Ah," said the general, "just the man I wanted to see. Doctor Jekyll, I would like you to meet Colonel Samuel Dartez."

  Jekyll offered his hand to the general while watching him with narrowed eyes. "Pleased to meet you, Colonel."

  Colonel Dartez shook hands, but briefly and without enthusiasm. "Doctor Jekyll. The general speaks often of you."

  "I'm sure. Catching up with an old army companion, General?"

  "Quite. The general served under me at one time during my career."

  Dartez regarded the general with a smile. "Finest commander I ever had. We had quite the time in India, if I recall."

  The two laughed uproariously. Jekyll forced a chuckle, but it did little to hide his discomfort.

  Charlotte entered the drawing room, and Colonel Dartez was quick to rise to his feet. Charlotte started at the sight of Jekyll standing by the entrance and clasped a hand to her chest.

  "Oh, Henry," she sighed and kissed him. "I did not expect you. You've already met Dartez, I take it?"

  "Yes, uh, we have made our acquaintance."

  Charlotte's smile warmed the room as she faced Dartez. "He and my late husband were the best of friends. It's been so wonderful to share stories of Rudy's exploits. We were just going to take a ride round the city and catch up on old times. Would you care to join us?"

  Before Jekyll could answer, the general blurted, "Actually, if Henry doesn't mind, I would welcome the chance to talk with him here for a bit. It's been a while since we had a chat."

  "Oh, I think that would be wonderful. Do you mind, Henry?"

  Jekyll's tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he paused a moment before he said, "Of course not."

  The general clapped his hands. "Then it's settled. Run along, dear. By the time you return, lunch shall be laid out for us."

  Dartez took Charlotte's arm. Together, they walked out of the drawing room.

  When they were beyond hearing, the general settled back in his chair. Jekyll took the seat that Dartez had left behind. The seat still felt warm.

  "You wished to speak with me?" asked Jekyll.

  "Yes." General Glass set his glass down. "As my daughter said, my son-in-law and Colonel Dartez were the best of friends. Despite that, Dartez had feelings for Charlotte. Now that Rudy has passed on, Dartez has expressed an interest in pursuing my daughter."

  Jekyll tightened his lips before forcing out, "I see. And you have advised him that she is already engaged to me?"

  Glass chuckled and sipped his wine. "I thought it best to at least give Dartez a sporting chance. He is independently wealthy, commands a great deal of influence in the government, and can give Charlotte a stability and respectability that some might find lacking in your proposal."

  "With all due respect, General," said Jekyll, "I find your invitation to Colonel Dartez an insult to me."

  The general's eyes crinkled in amusement. "Do you now? Well, I can hardly help that. I must think of my daughter's welfare before your temperament. To be blunt, I consider Colonel Dartez a far better candidate for my daughter's hand."

  "You know I possess all the qualities you've described. I am in possession of large tracts of land, I have a thriving medical practice, I have connections to Parliament, and am moving into position to become an MP
in the House of Lords."

  "There is one quality that you lack, Doctor." The general set his glass down and rose to his feet. He clasped his hands as he stood before the fireplace. "That's a military background. I believe a suitor with a history in the armed services would be best for my daughter."

  The general gazed down at Jekyll. His eyes softened. "Did you know that I chose Rudy for my daughter?"

  His eyes lowered to the fine carpet beneath his feet. I sensed some hesitation in Jekyll, one that carried as a pause before he stated, "No. I did not."

  "I'm not surprised. It wasn't something Charlotte spoke often of. Rudy was one of my finest officers. I introduced him to my daughter, hoping they would wed. And they did. I love Charlotte with all my heart, but I had always longed for a son. Losing Rudy was like losing my own child."

  The general walked across the carpet to a painting on the wall of a young man in uniform. "I had a dream, Jekyll. My father was in the Army. I was in the Army. I wanted my son to be in the Army, and his son to be in the Army. I wanted to create a legacy. If you marry Charlotte, the chain shall be broken. It might seem a small thing to you, but it means a great deal to me."

  "I understand the need for a legacy, sir. It was my father's greatest wish that I become a doctor like himself. He put a great deal of effort into my training and education."

  "Then you know why I am apprehensive." General Glass faced Jekyll again and regarded him with narrowed eyes. "Jekyll, you seem a decent enough fellow. I understand my daughter loves you. But I do not trust you, doctor. It's not something material I can place a finger on, but more of a general feeling. I consider myself a good judge of character, and you strike me as a man who presents a facade. You are hiding something from Charlotte and from me."

  I felt the rush of fear as Jekyll's heart quickened. He said in a voice that tried too hard to be casual, "I assure you that is not the case. I have been nothing but honest in my dealings with you."

  "No," the general said firmly. "You have not. Of that I am certain. I shall not ask your secret, because I can see in your eyes that you would not reveal it. I can only warn you that I shall tolerate nothing harming my daughter. I know Charlotte considers me too restrictive, and perhaps I have been. But since my wife and Rudy died, Charlotte is all I have left in the world. I cannot bear the thought of losing her as well. And should you ever do anything to cause me to lose Charlotte, I shall kill you myself, Jekyll. Do you understand me?"

  Jekyll swallowed and I felt his mouth had gone dry. "Yes, general."

  "Good." The general sat down and picked up his wine again. "I shall continue to encourage Charlotte's relationship with Dartez, and discourage her from yours. Nothing you say or do can change that. Our conversation is over. Charlotte should be returning in an hour. You may wait for her in the study."

  Jekyll stumbled out in a fog. I knew what clouded his mind. The general had expressed concern about a hidden side of himself. I was that hidden side. Jekyll feared that I would one day be exposed. I felt no concern for his relationship with Charlotte. In fact, in some ways I hoped that his engagement would fall apart. Let him taste my loneliness for a change.

  After a dull evening with his fiancée and her new suitor, Jekyll returned home and indulged in the potion again. I immediately headed out to a pub to enjoy myself.

  But after only a few minutes of drinking, I heard the thump of heavy boots on the wooden floor behind me. A shadow fell between the lantern above me and myself. A large hand clamped onto my shoulder. I turned to see the man I had beaten a few nights ago standing beside me. He wore plasters on his face and neck. A long cut bulged on one cheek with clearly visible threading from the stitches.

  My whole body tensed. I tightened my grip on my glass, readying it to smash over the man's head if he lunged at me. Some of the others in the pub fell quiet, while others began to yell and jeer.

  But the man's face broke into a smile that showed several broken teeth. His breath reeked over beer and filth as he leaned close to me. "Found you at last, my boy. You're the little fellow what gave me a pounding the other night."

  "I am," I said. "Have you come to relive the experience?"

  The man threw his head back and roared with laughter. His other hand clapped on my other shoulder. "That's the spirit. I've not come to fight you, though. I've come to drink with you."

  He dropped into the stool next to me and signaled the bartender. "I thought I would never meet a man who could best me at fisticuffs, especially one so small. But sure if you didn't give your all. Any man who can put me to the floor is a man worthy of my time. But you owe me."

  Jeremiah swung and drove a fist into my gut.

  As I buckled over in agony, he stood over me and said, "Now we are even, Hyde. The matter is settled. Come."

  The bartender set a mug of beer down in front of the man.

  The man raised it to me. "The name's Jeremiah."

  I raised my own drink, fighting the pain of my gut. "Edward."

  Jeremiah tapped his mug against mine. "To our fists, Edward, and the blood they draw from the weak."

  I echoed that sentiment and we drank. It was the first drink we shared, but not the last. We spent that evening drinking, and ended up arm in arm, staggering through the streets of London, singing songs and laughing at bawdy jokes.

  The next morning, I found myself in awe at the events of the night before. Jeremiah had pledged himself my lifelong friend. My violent tendencies had made me a scourge to the police and horrified Jekyll, yet here was a man who not only appreciated them but admired them. My brutality had earned his friendship. These people accepted me as I was instead of trying to change me. It solidified the belief in my heart that the lower classes were where I truly belonged.

  Chapter Eleven - The Touch of Love

  TIME PASSED. Day after day, Jekyll went throughout his life, receiving the payment and adoration of his patients. Night after night, we would drink the formula and transform into me. I would start the night with a good thrashing in a pub before finding a willing whore, then either drinking or drugging myself into a stupor. At one point, Jekyll would abandon his life and spend whole weeks with myself in control, never returning to his home.

  As much as Jekyll decried my activities to his vicar, he never ceased to take the drug again. Even when he began to suffer from the lack of sleep, and began turning away patients to take long naps during the day, he continued. Jekyll seemed addicted either to me or the drug, which suited me fine. It ensured that I would never be threatened with imprisonment again.

  I even opened a bank account to ensure my own source of funds from which to draw. My handwriting matched Jekyll's, so I sloped my hand in the opposite direction to create a new signature for myself. I was truly independent.

  Despite the amount of sin I threw myself into, I found the thrill beginning to wane. I had no friends to speak of, save Lucky the cab driver who became a companion of sorts. I made him a splendid profit through my fights (which grew from one at a time to two, then three), so he enjoyed my company. Still, I often found myself sitting alone at a pub, surrounded by laughing and joyous fellows, none of whom would even lower themselves to greet me. No woman I approached, no matter how pretty nor ugly, would welcome my advances. In time, I took to merely sitting in my private rooms, drinking wine and waiting for the dawn.

  During that time, I spent hours mulling over who and what I was. I came to believe I was born without conscience.

  I am familiar with the word "conscience," with the idea of a subtle pricking in the mind that prevents the average man from carrying out actions that violate their moral code. I, however, have never experienced it. My every impulse is carried out immediately and without hesitation. My every whim becomes reality. In this sense, it seems that I am incapable of behaving in a manner without sin. I believe this tendency is an intentional effect from the draught composed by Jekyll.

  Yet, I wondered, is this truly my fault? I have no moral compass that guides others, no means to dete
rmine if my actions are right or wrong. If a sword is forged to its most lethal edge, then used to cut down a man, is the sword to blame for the kill? If a dog is born and bred to tear apart flesh, is it the dog's fault when it mauls a man? If I was created to sin, am I to blame when the sin is carried out?

  These are questions I pondered, but found no answer to. Indeed, as I write these words, I consider them but have no way to resolve it. I can only put the questions to you, dear reader, and hope that minds greater than I could solve it.

  It took a month before something changed.

  I had just won a fight in the pub against three men, and left them groaning on the floor to approach the bar and order my drinks. As I sat down, I caught sight of a woman sitting at the other end of the bar. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered.

  It was the woman I had seen in the bar that first night I had placed my bet. She regarded me with the same smile that had touched my heart.

  "Hello there, handsome," she said. "I wondered if I should ever see you again."

  My heart leapt at the sight of her handsome features, but my bitterness settled in quickly to extinguish the flames. Surely she could not be addressing me with seriousness.

  I turned back to the beer before me. "Spare me your flattery. I am well-aware of how the fairer sex holds me in low regard."

  Her hand rubbed my shoulder in a way that sent shivers down my spine. "Oh, I can see you're going to be a bit of fun, eh? My name's Rebecca Webb. What's yours, sweetheart?"

  "Edward Hyde."

  She sat down in the empty stool next to me (the stools on either side of me invariably remained empty). She crossed her legs, revealing a slit in her skirt that caused it to fall open and expose a plump thigh and calf. Rebecca braced her chin on the back of one hand as she smiled at me. "I've been watching the way you handle yourself. Quite impressive, that is. Wondered if you might fancy a try at handling me."