Griffin did not like the sea. He didn’t like the creaking wooden ships that stank like floating outhouses, he didn’t like the smell of salt and fish and he particularly didn’t like the deep water waiting to pull him down to the bottom. Being invisible was his greatest asset but if he fell into the water no one would see a drowning man, only a curious disturbance in the water and a disembodied voice screaming for help.
“There your are Griffin, you invisible quockerwodger.” Moriarty pulled back on the leash of his Jack Russel terrier that had alerted him to his agent’s location. “Don’t fall into the water now. I’d have a devil of a time fishing you out.”
“Damn it Moriarty, keep that beast away from me.” Griffin danced away from the snarling terrier that was trying to bite his unsightly ankles.
Moriarty laughed at the fear in his voice as he pulled the terrier away. “Don’t blame Fenrir for being hungry. I forgot to feed him again this morning. I brought him here for a good reason. We might need to get you past some guard dogs and Fenrir will be our test dog.”
“Just keep it away from me.” Dogs hated Griffin. Something about smelling a man they couldn’t see turned them instantly aggressive. Moriarty’s small but powerful Jack Russel was familiar with Griffin’s scent and longed to sink his teeth into invisible flesh.
“Calm down Fenrir.” Moriarty muttered as he struggled to hold the leash with one hand while removing a flask from his coat pocket. “I have a special concoction from one of the best house breakers in London. He’s slipped past many a guard dog after he’s applied his special cologne. Smear a few drops of this on your chest.”
A sailor walking by watched with puzzlement as a flask seemed to float in mid-air before returning to Moriarty’s hand. He shook his head and continued walking toward his ship. London was getting stranger every day.
“What do you think Fenrir?” Moriarty shook the leash to attract his loyal dog’s attention. “Do you still want to tear the legs off poor little Griffy?”
The Jack Russel looked up at its master and wagged its tail furiously before sniffing again where Griffin was standing on the dock. The smell from the ointment was confusing his sense of smell but intuition told him something was there. He growled deeply with raised hackles.
“See? Perfect. It’s confused even Fenrir and he’s a savage little predator. He’s killed hundreds of rats and has no problem attacking a full grown man. Fenrir even saved my life once when someone was trying to kill me.”
“I’m not reassured. He’s still obviously on guard.”
“Don’t be such a meater. Here I’ve brought you a little toy as well.” He handed a small circular object inside a leather scabbard to Griffin.
“What is this?”
“A punch knife. It’s small but it doesn’t need a long blade. The handle goes inside your hand like a pair of brass knuckles and the scabbard is covering the blade.”
“How am I supposed to carry this? It would look a little odd for a punch knife to be floating around in the air.”
“Hold it in your armpit and keep your upper arm down. There, it works. I can’t see it now.”
“It’s going to be a big pain in my arse to hold it in my armpit and now I smell like shit thanks to your so-called cologne.”
“Stop whinging or I’ll show you what a pain in the arse really is when I shove the knife up there.”
Griffin stepped back nervously from Moriarty. He had already been a victim of Moriarty’s psychotic violence and knew it wasn’t an idle threat.
“Do you see the ship you’re supposed to investigate?” Moriarty asked as he pulled out a British Bulldog revolver holstered at the small of his back and double checked it was fully loaded. “Griffin stop nodding your invisible head, use that whiny voice of yours.”
“Yes, I can see it you nasty bastard.”
“Good. Find out what’s in the hold and get out. Don’t stop to steal anything or fondle any cabin boys or I’ll feed your balls to Fenrir here.” When the loyal terrier heard his name he whined and pressed himself against Moriarty’s leg while wagging its tail in a blur.
“Get away from me you stupid cur.” Moriarty shoved the little dog away to send it tumbling. “Have you got that Griffin? A quick in and out. Pretend you’re having sex with one of your blind whores.”
“What am I supposed to be looking for?”
“Haven’t got a clue. That’s why we call it reconnaissance.” He glanced toward the shore when a newspaper boy started shouting the news about the ‘Dear Boss’ letter received by the Central News Agency and written by the newly named Jack the Ripper. Moriarty at first looked confused, then angry.
“Did your hear that Moriarty? It was one man killing all those street walkers and now he’s bragging to the filth about it.”
“Concentrate on the job Griffin.” Moriarty snapped. “That’s none of our business.” The sound of creaking planks on the dock told him Griffin was finally doing what he was told and walking toward the ship.
Griffin was annoyed to find no guard dogs on duty outside the ship. He was smelling like an overflowing sewer for no reason. Damn that Moriarty and his foul mouth and even more foul temper!
The knife was a good idea though. He was tempted to try it out on Moriarty but the damned man was always two steps ahead of him.
They had chosen early evening as a good time for this mission so the light would be poor but sufficient for Griffin to still see. He waited at the foot of the gangplank for the ship. It wouldn’t do for an empty gangplank to sag and creak under his invisible weight. That would attract suspicion before he even boarded the ship.
Eventually two sailors speaking German to each other began to walk up the gangplank and Griffin followed a safe distance behind them. It soon became apparent that all the crew were German and he found this very interesting. Queen Victoria had married Prince Albert from Germany and her German ties were very strong. Why would a German ship be considered a possible threat to the crown?
It was simple for him to find the main hold but seeing inside it was another matter. He doubted he could lift the main hatch by himself and, regardless, the hatch opening by itself would certainly be noticed.
He decided to wait and think for a bit. Sounds emanated from the hatch beside him. He could hear the shuffling of many feet, snatches of garbled conversation and the rattle of chains. ‘Slaves?’ He wondered. Why would a German slave ship be docked in London? Why would a slave ship be docked anywhere for that matter? Even the Americans had abolished slavery over two decades ago.
He was preoccupied with his thoughts when the hatch for the main hold was opened and a foul stench was released that reinforced his slave hypothesis. Two crewman had raised the hatch and were now busy handing buckets of food and water into the hold and receiving buckets of human waste in return which they dumped into the Thames.
Griffin peeked into the hold and confirmed there were at least 100 poor wretches chained together in collective misery. He could only make out shadows and silhouettes until light from a hurricane lantern held by a crewman illuminated a sea of faces looking up at the darkening sky.
He strangled a gasp of shock and was suddenly very glad of the foul cologne that obscured his scent. The compulsion to run away from the sickening sight was strong and he surrendered to it with an imprudent lack of caution.
There was an unexpected collision and Griffin and the knife in his armpit fell to the wooden deck as he looked up at the very solid crewman he had ran into. The crewman’s body was humanoid but not the hairy muzzle that served as the creature’s mouth and nose. It growled deeply as its wet nose drank in the confusing scent at its feet.
Griffin scrambled backward as the thing reached for him and he noticed the odd lumps on its head he thought were hair were in reality ears that pricked up alertly as it heard the sounds of his attempted escape. Griffin whined with terror as the human-dog hybrid lunged at the deck and tried to grasp his thrashing, invisible legs.
He forced himself to remain silent as he escaped and ran toward the gangplank. Sound could get him killed until he could put some distance between himself and this beastman.
There was a bona fide human being guarding the gangplank but he wasn’t expecting an invisible foot to trip him and a pair of invisible hands to push him into the water. Griffin pounded down the gangplank but his bestial pursuer was still on his tail.
His lack of conditioning provided a method for the creature to easily track him as it followed the sounds of a human gasping for air. Weaving between crates and bales piled on the docks provided Griffin no escape and he started to moan with terror as the creature clashed its teeth together in an attempt to bite him.
A shadow detached itself from a pile of crates and Moriarty shoved his compact revolver into the back of the creature. There were three muted cracks and the creature paused as if it was bewildered. It turned around and looked at Moriarty who calmly put a .442 bullet into each of its eyes.
He slid the ejector over on his revolver and pushed out the empty shell casings while he kept a wary eye on the ship’s gangplank. At the moment nobody seemed inclined to run toward gunfire.
“Brute took a bit of killing to put him down, didn’t he?” Moriarty gave the corpse a kick while he smoothly reloaded and holstered his gun.
“Give me a hand to drag him into the shadows Griffin. Shut up Fenrir.” He snapped at his barking terrier. “You watch over dog-man’s body here and I’ll get two men to carry it away in a carriage.”
“What is this monster anyway?”
“I don’t know but we should find out something when we dissect it. What did you find on the ship? Damn it! Shut up Fenrir!”
“It was ghastly. The hold is full of beastmen like this. Pigmen, dogmen, all sorts of beasts and they were shackled together like slaves. I’ve never seen anything so horrible!”
“Oh buck up Griffin. I swear to God I should start calling you the Invisible Girl. For fucks sake! Shut up Fenrir!” Moriarty kicked his dog so hard he broke some of its ribs and sent it flying into the water.
The little terrier yelped in pain and desperately struggled to keep its head above water but it was a losing battle with its short legs and dense body. Moriarty pulled his coat back over his holstered gun and started to walk away.
“Moriarty! You can’t just leave your dog to drown. Didn’t you tell me you’ve had him since he was a puppy?”
“So what? It’s a sink or swim kind of world Griffin. You would do well to remember that.”
Griffin lay his body on the dock and reached down toward the drowning dog. His fingers brushed the top of its head but it was too far away for him to get a good grip. It looked up hopefully when it felt the touch of his fingers then silently sank under the water while Griffin watched helplessly. True to its nature, it continued to fight to survive until water filled its lungs and it dropped out of sight into the depths of the Thames.
He sat up on the dock and watched Moriarty walking away toward the shore. Newspaper boys continued to shout the news of Jack the Ripper.
Victorian Slang Used in this story
Quockerwodger: Puppet or Pawn
Meater: Coward
God damn... doggo 😢
Fucking hysterical, this was really good Norm. The affection you have for the characters comes through. Poor dog, would have loved Griffin if he saved it. Artfully crafted.