Free Beautiful Freaks by Katie M John

His dress suggested he was ready for an evening out in one of the more upmarket areas of town . It was the dress of a man who was perhaps a little too sure of himself , Steptree thought. Several rings laced his fingers , and his moustache was styled rather flamboyantly. Steptree used the tip of his pen to push open the man’s jacket and noticed a thick , cream calling card tucked into his inside pocket. He pulled it out and took it over to the gas-lamp.
    The card was quality, e xpensive to produce. Instinctively Steptree knew he had just found a key piece of evidence.
     
    EVANGELINE’S
    PALACE OF BEAUTIFUL FREAKS.
    Smoking Club, Dining Rooms & Exhibition.
    Doors open at nightfall.
    Strictly Members Only.
     
    He called Chester over and showed him the card. “ May I take this? I’ll return it tomorrow.”
    “Certainly , j ust don’t lose it.”
    “Have you heard of this place?” Steptree asked, his eyebrow rose in curiosity.
    “It’s not my scene,” Chester replied.
    “No, I suppose not.”
    Steptree placed the card between the pages of his black moleskin notebook and snapped it shut before returning it to his own inside pocket.
    Whilst Chester did a concluding circuit around the body, he mumbled, “There isn’t much more we’re going to find out from this one. It’s as we were told, the tree seemed to just swallow the man – as if it just magically opened up and ate him . There’s only one way to describe an event like that … Witchcraft.” He took out his pipe and puffed on the tiny glowing embers , drawing it back into life . Steptree wondered fleetingly how Chester had not yet managed to set his trousers on fire.
    “We ll, in that case – supper with T he Witch Finder General sounds just the ticket, ” Steptree’s tone was thick with sarcasm. As Chester led the way out to the waiting cab, he clapped Steptree roughly on the arm and let out one of his wonderful Chester laughs.
     
    *
    Hastings was the one childhood holiday Kaspian could remember. Heartlock had sent him to stay with his sister, Aggie, whilst he’d been in Europe on ‘business.’ Kaspian’s stay in Hastings had been one of the best times of his life. Aunt Aggie had had several children, a whole flock of them so it had seemed – she had no room for a study, or a husband; he had died over a gambling dispute. Fortunately it was over a game he’d won, and so Heartlock’s sister was left with a fine fortune.
    The three months Kaspian stayed with Aunt Aggie had made him realise what it was to be a child. He’d spent his days playing on the beach with his ‘cousins,’ fished for mackerel and crabs, annoyed the man operating the funicular, and spent all his pocket money in the penny arcades.
    Aunt Aggie had died soon after Kaspian had returned to London. She fell down the stairs as she was carrying the laundry. It was a very ordinary end to an extraordinary woman. All her children went to live with Heartlock’s other sister, Mary; a very Christian spinster who believed fun was an unnecessary indulgence. It had made Kaspian sad to think of the change in his cousins’ lives.
    At this time of the year, Hastings was quiet. The penny arcades were shut for the winter. Because of the raging storms that had hit the coast over the last week, even the fishing shacks were empty. Kaspian walked along the beach, the pebbles crunching under his city shoes. He sat down, looked out over the ocean. He made a lonely figure . His black morning suit made him look like a silhouette; a black inky mark, like an exclamation mark on grey paper.  E verything here was grey; the sand, the sea, the sky. Gulls squawked as they swirled on the thermals. The warm air from the land was hitting the cold air of the sky and it caused the rain to fall thick and heavy. Kaspian did not mind it. He was lost somewhere in the idea of who he was.
    Rain channelled off his black cur ls and slid over his high cheek bones. Against the pale whiteness of his skin , it almost