The Cases of Benjamin Farrens

By Cay Reet

The casebook is composed of three novellas:

The Case of the Blind Medium

Count Benjamin Farrens does the best to remain an eccentric member of English nobility while also investigating supposedly supernatural occurrences. When a simple séance turns into a murder case, he does his best to protect an innocent, blind boy and to help find the murderer.

The Case of the Blood Ruby

Count Benjamin Farrens is just about to settle down a little more, now that he has a foster son to take care of, but his plans are derailed when a charming young woman from Japan arrives and proclaims herself his fiancé. Nevertheless, her help is invaluable when a cursed gem, aptly called the Blood Ruby, is stolen and a man is murdered during the theft. Blood and death follow the gem, that much is clear soon.

The Case of the Cornwall Vampire

When Inspector Irenicus Wilsborough complains about a case in Cornwall, where a tourist was bitten by a fellow human, Count Benjamin Farrens packs up his fiancé, his foster son, his valet, and his new coachman and takes a vacation in Cornwall with the aim of finding the madman who goes around biting people. It is a case more dangerous than anything he's tackled before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cay Reet
• Release date: May 31, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393475583

Book preview

The Cases of Benjamin Farrens

by Cay Reet

© Copyright 2020 Text: Cay Reet

© Copyright 2020 Cover Design: Holz Vanderhuetten and Cay Reet

All rights reserved. No part of this may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems - except in case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews - without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

In memory of Jeff Zahn and Holz Vanderhuetten

You shall never truly die.

Contents

The Case of the Blind Medium

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

The Case of the Blood Ruby

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

The Case of the Cornwall Vampire

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Afterthoughts

More by the Same Author

The Case of the Blind Medium

One

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Count Benjamin Farrens moved from one room of his aunt’s spacious townhouse to the next, never staying too long in one place, unless he was in the billiard room, which was only frequented by men. He knew his aunt and her nefarious plans for him by far too well. Especially the ballroom was a place he kept away from - it was filled with young ladies from society currently in season and looking for a husband. At thirty, wealthy far beyond what he’d inherited from his parents, in good health and, even if he said so himself, good-looking, he was too good a target for them and he didn’t care for a marriage at this time of his life. Especially not for a marriage to a young woman he had next to nothing in common with, his past being what it was.

Again, Benjamin sought and found a safe place in the billiard room, where men were on the whole rather talking, drinking, and smoking instead of playing this evening. It still was a room not even his aunt would frequent during a party, so it was a safe place. The armchairs were all taken, but he didn’t mind a sip of whiskey while standing. An offered cigarette he declined politely, since he didn’t smoke.

What a night, eh? another guest who was about Benjamin’s age, said.

An unusually nice one, Benjamin answered. After one week of dribbling rain and wet fog, the night was clear and dry, which was a relief. Surely, Londoners were used to wet weather, but that didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate something more dry.

And a lot of lovely ladies here as well, a third man added.

Benjamin nodded, but didn’t comment. He wasn’t looking for a wife and wouldn’t even have been at the party, had the hostess not been a relative he couldn’t simply ignore. He ignored as many invitations as he could without insulting society too much. Every day when he dealt with his mail, he felt more homesick for Asia, where he’d spent a considerable amount of his youth and early adulthood. He missed being out and about, travelling from one place to the other, seeing new things, meeting new people. It had been necessary for him to eventually return to England and officially take his place as his father’s heir, especially as a title came with it, but that didn’t mean he’d returned happily. Being a count - even one without extensive lands, since Benjamin merely owned a townhouse, what with his father selling off most of the land and the estate to finance the trip to Asia all those years ago - came with a lot of duties and little joy, at least for a man used to being free and unbound. It didn’t help matters with society that he’d made money on the way, investing well into mines, train lines, and other ventures which made a lot of money. Not only did his aunt want him married, but all mothers of high society who had unmarried daughters wanted him to choose their child for that venture.

He slipped out of the billiard room when the tobacco smoke became too intense for his liking, seeking refuge in the winter garden which, at this time of the day and during a party, was mercifully empty. His aunt kept quite some unusual specimen there, including a large bamboo which reminded him of China’s bamboo forests. They were amazing, considering bamboo stems were nothing but large grass blades when all was said and done. He ran his fingers over one stem, feeling the knots which kept the hollow structure stable and flexible at the same time - a feature which allowed for the bamboo to weather storms which would simply break or unearth a tree.

Why are you not in the ballroom? his aunt’s voice came up behind him. Clare Ledford, a true lady of society, stood at the entrance of the winter garden, hands on her ample hips, and glared at him.

Because I’m not stupid enough to pose for all the huntresses in there.

Her glare intensified. You do need a wife, the sooner the better.

I know your thoughts on that matter, dear aunt, but I’m not going to marry any time soon. It would be very impolite of me to lead the young ladies on, so I stay out of their way as much as I can.

Benjamin, you are not living up to your title. You have no country estate. You run your townhouse ... which is much smaller than it should be ... with a skeleton crew. You don’t even have your own valet! Every man has a valet!

I’m very capable of dressing myself. My needs are few, which means Mrs. Stoker and the maids can very well care for me. The townhouse was good enough for my parents and generations before them, so why shouldn’t it serve me as well?

None of your ancestors was nearly as wealthy as you are, Benjamin. Your house has to reflect that. You can’t live in this small townhouse when you could afford so much more. And you don’t have an estate ... your father had one before this horrid plan he hatched. To sell all of his land...

Given how little income land brings these days, I think he did well to sell it all.

Perhaps ... but a nobleman with a title who doesn’t have a place in the country ... it’s scandalous.

I have no need of a country estate, since I never leave London for extended periods of time ... only when I’m invited to other people’s country estates.

But you can never return the invitations!

And still they keep on sending them. I’d be a much happier man, did they not do so.

His aunt heaved a gusty sigh. Benjamin, you can’t go on treating society like that. There are things which are expected of a man in your position. You have to adhere to them.

I do the minimum of what is expected of me, dear aunt. Returning here was, as it were, the absolute minimum. Not returning to Asia is definitely above the minimum. I will not marry until I’m ready and neither will I hire servants nor buy property I do not need. And, just out of concern, you shouldn’t still have the corset laced that strictly. Vanity is all good and well, but you are no longer a young woman.

Benjamin!

I’m merely caring about your health, Aunt Clare.

Benjamin, go to the ballroom immediately!

No, I think I’ll rather return home.

A smug smile crossed her face. You have no coach of your own and mine is not available to you right now.

I will walk.

Walk! Alone at this time of night!

I do not have to cross dangerous neighbourhoods on my way back home and I assure you I can definitely take care of my own safety. He bowed smartly. Good night, Aunt Clare. I hope the party is very successful with all other guests.

In the entrance hall, Benjamin took his hat and coat from his aunt’s butler and left the house. The night was clear and dry, so the walk home was rather pleasant. A man in Benjamin’s clothing, clearly respectable, could walk around London at night without too much trouble, as long as he stayed away from less-respectable places. No policeman bothered Benjamin on his way - since he didn’t look like he was out and about with nefarious intentions. As he walked up to the corner where he would enter his own street, though, a thought came to his mind. Being considered a bit of a strange person was one reason he wasn’t bothered all that much with invitations. It almost, but not quite balanced out his wealth. Instead of taking the street to his house’s front entrance, he therefore slipped into the small alley running along the back of the houses on his side, meant for deliveries.

The alley was mostly dark, but the moon was almost full and there was the occasional lightened window at the back of the houses. Benjamin had walked jungles and deserts in the dark, an alley in a good part of London was nothing which could scare him. He’d almost reached the delivery entrance to his own home - to which he always carried all the keys - when he heard the loud voice of his next-door neighbour, a retired colonel. Everyone in the street knew about the man’s unfortunate tendency to take his servants for his soldiers and yell at them as if he were still in the barracks.

This is the last straw! the colonel yelled, clearly not caring for the late hour or possible ear-witnesses. Out! And don’t expect any recommendations from me!

I most certainly won’t! a second voice countered, not quite as loud - but then, forty years in the army had trained the colonel’s vocal cords well. I have learned not to expect anything  from you ... least of all reason!

My son will be fine! The doctor says so!

The doctor is no specialist on diseases of the lung! If your son doesn’t get treated the right way, he will keep a weakness for his whole life!

Out! I will not hear a mere servant insult a doctor I’ve always been very satisfied with!

As you wish.

Quick steps approached the garden gate of the house and Benjamin realized a little late he shouldn’t have eavesdropped. He walked on, which proved to be a mistake, because the man coming from inside the garden walked right into him. For a moment, they both staggered, trying to stay upright and not push the other person down, either. Benjamin was rather tall himself, but the man he’d collided with still was almost half a head taller. He wore a black suit with a white shirt underneath, looking sombre.

I’m exceedingly sorry, sir, the man gasped after regaining his balance.

I should have been forewarned after this shouting match, so it’s certainly my fault as well, Benjamin countered.

The other man’s pale cheeks flushed at those words. You ... you heard us?

I think most people in this street heard at least the colonel. And I feel I have to agree with you on his take on reason. He stays as far from it as is possible most of the time.

I worry for his son, not for him. This is no regular cold he has. The stranger sighed. And now I will have to find employment elsewhere without any recommendations.

Was the colonel’s house your first place of employ or have you been thrown out like this before?

It was my first place of employ. My father worked for the colonel, gave me quite some of his meagre income so I could go to medical school. Then he fell ill and I had to step into his shoes to keep him cared for. The colonel never stopped reminding me of it, claiming it was only natural that the son would follow in the father’s footsteps and a valet’s son would never be anything but a valet. I ... I endured it, for my father’s sake. And after he died last year, I kept working, hoping to put money aside so I could finish my training. Now, however... He sighed again.

You are a valet?

Yes.

Benjamin studied the other man, as much as the moonlight allowed. I was reminded again tonight that a gentleman can, apparently, not exist without a valet. Not that it felt that way for me so far, but I could use some help in the morning or when dressing for special occasions. And I could make good use of a man with a certain medical knowledge, too.

You ... you’re not a passersby, then?

No, I live in the next house.

The other man’s eyes widened in shock. You’re Count Farrens, then?

Yes.

But...

Benjamin could understand the shock, since a count ranked higher than a mere colonel, thus he should be looking for a much more experienced valet with quite some recommendations instead of a man just thrown out for speaking out of turn. Should you decide to take my offer, you will soon find that I am anything but a regular employer. I spent a long time travelling Asia, first with my father, then, after his death, alone. My household is led by a skeleton crew. I have a cook who also stands in as my overall housekeeper. An experienced lady who was widowed too early and is more than up to the task. She has three maids to help her, three sisters who were lost in London before they came to me. Apart from that, I do employ a boy for the legwork ... doing whatever needs to be done and doesn’t fall into the hands of my housekeeper or the maids. I do my correspondence myself ... although I sometimes wish I had help with that ... and I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself ... although my tie knots leave something to be desired, as I’m well aware.

The other man mustered him. As does the state of your evening suit and the coat, sir, if I might be so bold. There are only minor damages, but a good valet would already have taken care of those.

I see I could definitely use a valet, then. So, what do you say?

You only expect me to work as a valet?

As I said, due to my hobby, I can also make use of your medical knowledge and I would prefer it if you expanded on it in your spare time ... which I would make sure to give you.

You would do that?

I investigate supposedly supernatural occurrences in my ample spare time and it can never hurt to have a medical man along for that. Or a man who is ready to use his brain and speak his mind.

That is unusual ... but it does appeal to me, I have to admit that. Since my father’s death, I haven’t been bound to anyone. My mother died only days after my birth, I have no siblings, and the families of my parents are spread out far and rarely in touch.

Then you are free to travel on a whim, I presume.

Yes, sir.

That will come in handy, as will your work as a valet. I hope you will also tell me what might be missing from my wardrobe ... years in Asia have left me with little knowledge of what is fashionable and required here in London at the moment.

I shall certainly have a look at your wardrobe and, if you wish me to be frank with you, I shall always tell you what needs to be said.

Excellent. Then I suggest we move on. After you tell me your name, that is.

I’m Christopher Sinclair, sir.

Well, then, Christopher, come along.

The other man lifted his bag and followed Benjamin to the delivery entrance next door, which was alongside the garden wall. They entered the house through the kitchen, where there still was a light on.

Mrs. Stoker, Benjamin’s housekeeper, sat at the table, reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of tea, as she often did before turning in for the night. Benjamin didn’t mind it - he got to read the newspaper first and surely could afford that bit of additional tea the household used because of this. His housekeeper worked hard and deserved her little luxury at the end of the day.

Good evening, sir, she greeted him with a smile.

Good evening, Mrs. Stoker. If I might be so bold as to introduce a new household member ... Mr. Sinclair will join us as my valet.

Mr. Sinclair. She nodded.

Mrs. Stoker. Christopher nodded back.

Two

––––––––

The next morning, Benjamin was woken by his new valet. When he slipped out of his nightshirt, the other man stopped and stared for a moment. Benjamin didn’t blame him - in the west, only sailors and criminals bore tattoos and the tattoos themselves were of low quality most of the time. Benjamin’s back was covered in ink, showing a red, five-clawed Chinese dragon in front of a waterfall, holding a large, white pearl. He didn’t regret getting it, despite the time it had taken and the pain he’d been through.

Sir, where did you...?

In China, during my travels through Asia. It’s the reason why my shirts tend to be of slightly thicker cloth than is usual.

Christopher stayed silent for a moment, studying Benjamin’s back. Then he began dressing Benjamin. This is unlike any tattoo I’ve seen before ... and I’ve seen quite some, since a lot of bodies for medical school come from sailors or criminals.

The only two groups of society who tend to have tattoos in Britain, yes.

It is different in Asia, I presume?

Both China and Japan have a tradition of body ink, yes. It’s an art which is expensive and thus only open to the higher echelons of society. A tattoo like mine is very expensive and takes a long time to do ... since you can’t do too much in one sitting and the skin needs time to recover between sittings.

I imagine so, since you hurt the skin over and over again, bringing in the ink. Christopher swiftly did Benjamin’s tie. It must be painful.

It’s bearable ... there are women who get tattoos in Asia, too. It’s not pleasant, though, I won’t claim that.

And it’s irreversible.

That’s very much the point. Benjamin smiled slightly. You can change a tattoo ... put another one over it, with a little luck ... but you can’t simply erase it and return the skin to the original state.

How long did yours take?

Almost a year. I didn’t pay for it, since it was a dare by a Chinese nobleman. He paid for the tattoo, thinking I wouldn’t be able to bear the recurring pain.

He was clearly wrong.

He was. It also helped me learn how to lock away pain for a certain time, which has been useful afterwards.

How old were you?

Twenty-three. I stayed with the nobleman and his family until the tattoo was done, afterwards I travelled on. My last station before coming back to the west was Japan, where I arrived some years later.

How does all of this come together with your life today, sir?

Well, I made a fortune in Asia, invested heavily in mines and other industry. I also saw a lot of things which sound fantastic to people here in Britain, but are true nevertheless. This sparked my interest in what passes for the supernatural here ... spiritualism, ghost stories, and many other things.

Do you believe it?

"There are things in the world I can’t explain, but I haven’t found any supposedly supernatural occurrence I’ve