The year is 1933. Angelique Collins in a desperate attempt to save Barnabas Collins from his entrapment beyond time and space has invoked the mysterious Orb of Solace. A magical artifact that allows one to travel back in time to a particular moment of their hearts desire. For Angelique, this moment is upon the Orient Express in 1933 where she seeks yet another artifact which she believes will allow her to open the rift separating Barnabas from the current time line. But as she will soon discover there are others seeking the same object of her desire.
The steam whistle of the train echoes across the countryside. Hours and miles behind, there had been a lightly falling sleet, but now, the sleet has given way once more to snow, which was beginning to fall heavily. There was a slight jerk of the train, and the passengers gathered in the luxurious salon and dining car of the Orient Express involuntarily leaned into the curve as the train made its way through the snow covered countryside
Idly flicking the ashes of his Gauloises into the crystal ashtray before him, Joseph Salpêtrière sat looking silently out the chill pane of the window, watching as the hoary covered spruce and pines of the dense woodlands sped past. He reflected on the fact that when he had arrived upon the platform at the Paris depot he had not told Armelle the whole truth the real reason for his delay. Of course he was more than well aware that any offer of an original copy of The Book of Wisphers was suspect upon its face the whole text had never been anything more than a hoax perpetrated by Turnbull. No, he had not gone in search of The Whispers but rather he had been contacted about a copy of The Scarlet Palimpset a centuries-old, leather-bound folio whose yellowing parchment was known to have been reused from a much earlier work, which had been banned by the church. Thus, the original Greek writing had been most meticulously scraped from the parchment and then the leaves of the book had been split down the middle, rotated ninety degrees, and refolded to make double sheets that were half the initial size. Rebound, it had been overwritten in order to create a Latin prayer book. Only the new volume, the Liturgia Horarum, was far more than a Liturgy of the Hours, with its collection of versicles, hymns, psalms, passages from scripture, and assorted prayers for when the pages were held up to the light, the older Greek lettering was still barely legible, appearing as faintly red and containing much in the way of all its elder forbidden knowledge, which was rumored to possessed the ability to warp the minds of all those who have ever read from it infusing them with eldritch knowledge from entities that had walked the earth long before man. For in reality, theThe Scarlet Palimpset was the dread Book of Outer Darkness.
Josephs reason for keeping all of this all from Armelle was that he had not intended to purchase the book for himself, but for a man a German who was soon to board the train.
Only when he had arrived the book dealer was dead, his throat ripped open, lying in a pool of cooling blood staining the fallen books, which had been scattered about the corpse for the bookstore had been violently searched. His own quick rifle among the shelves as he hurriedly scanned the faded titles failed to reveal the Liturgia Horarum.
And so, The Scarlet Palimpset was nowhere to be found.
Across from him, Armelle sat conversing with Dominique Provoyeur, You are certain that Wellington has it? {French}
“Mai oui. He stole it from Alexis in London.” {French} She replied and took sipped her glass of champagne.
The Nagal Box? {French} Joseph asks arousing himself from his own reflections.
Dominique Provoyeur frowns and nods in agreement.
Joseph looks at Armelle and Dominique, But Dominique, the box it has been missing for years. Those of the Cult of the Leviathan have been in search of it for more than a hundred years. If Wellington says he has it then he is merely lying to gain finances to support his habit. {French}
Our information is not based upon Edgar Wellington, Joseph. Alex Alexis . . . apparently he found it. Or so he said in his wire to the Baron, only, before we could confirm the box was authentic, before one of us could get to Alexis he was murdered. {French}
And there is no box. {French} Joseph takes an introspective draw of his cigarette.
The box is missing. {French}
Wellington? {French} Aremelle asks.
Oui
Or there never was a box. Salpêtrière shakes his head dismissively, I am not as impressed with Alexis as you and the Baron. But, be that as it may Edgar Wellington is a morphine addict if he killed Alexis and if he took the supposed Naga Box, then, it must be assumed that it was done at the behest of someone else a plan devised by someone other than Wellington as he does not have the intellect to formulate such a plan upon his own. {French}
Dominique put her glass down atop the table and looked at Salpêtrière, Oh, I very much agree. {French}
Armelle Menard looks at her companion.
He looks over with a cold gaze, “There is a war coming Dominique the Naga Box, if truly it is such, does not need to fall into the wrong hands?” {French}
The Maître D strolls past the tables as he waves to one of the dinning car attendants and begins to furiously explain to the young man his shortcomings.
“All too true Dominique {French} Armelle adds.
Which is why the Baron dispatched me to deal with Edgar Wellington. {French} Dominique said solemnly.
This American doctor.” {French} Armelle leans forward, lowering her voice, He seems most interested in you as well as Wellington. {French}
She sits back in a heavy sigh, “Oui he tires to play the cat and mouse with me. {French}
Armelle raises and eyebrow, He is not aware that he is the mouse. {French}
Oh, he shall learn shortly if he wishes to play with me. {French} Dominique smiles.
There is the sound of the train, which grows louder now, as the dining car door opens and Leopold Peeters enters from the forward car.
He appears to be deep in thought.
Dominique Provoyeur leans forward and stubs her cigarette out silently and gives Joseph a cold look, Another who is more than he appears. {French}
The Belgian? {French} Joseph asks.
Mai oui. Come to my compartment laterthese matters are best discussed not so openly. {French} Dominique tells them as she arises from her seat.
Leopold Peeters approaches the Maître D and motions him off to the side.
The little group of French conspirators agree to meet Dominique later. She picks up her purse and gold cigarette lighter, casting a brief glance at Leopold Peeters. Yet another mouse. She says softly.
Armelle takes a drink of wine and Joseph settles back with a purposeful drag from his cigarette.
Oui Monsieur, may I be of service. {French} The Maître D amiably asks.
Would you happen to have a deck of cards? {French} Leopold asks. Non? And he clears his throat and then pauses for dramatic effect as if he is about to loudly proclaim something, when he feels inside his coat pocket, and pulls something out. Een spel kaarten eh? And pulls out a deck of cards and makes his way to the main dining table.
Joseph Salpêtrière stubs out his cigarette and standing takes Armelles hand to help her from her seat as they turn and exit the car. In passing, Dr Lambshead steps back to allow them to exit and then he enters. Aware that his pipe has gone out, he pats his pockets in search of a box of matches, noting that the Belgian gentleman his shuffling a deck of cards.
“Oh, I say, a hand of cards, just the thing. I’m for it sir!”
Ah! We have one taker! Leopold loudly makes his proclamation to the rest of the car.
The doctor takes a seat at the dining table and pushes away some silverware.
Will there be any others who wish to pass the time with Lady Luck and Sir Skill? Peeters asks as he pushes aside all the other accouterments of the dinner table and starts to shuffle the cards more forcefully.
“Dr. Lambshead. Thackery T. Lambshead, Sir, I am not certain I caught the name. The doctor removes his pipe and reaches out a hand.
Leopold sets the cards down and takes his offered hand, Leopold Peeters, Adventurer.
Oh now that does sound like a fabulous occupation.
It has its rewards.
Now what shall we play, not enough for Bridge I fear.”
No, not quite enough Dr. Lambshead, say, how is that spelled by the way?
The sway of the train causes Tony Peterson to bump against the narrow corridor of the sleeping compartments as he exits, Compartment 4 and moves on down the corridor.
“Spelled, you mean the name?” The doctor asks.
Yes Sir. Leo replies as he cuts the deck and shuffles once again, English yes?
“Quite. L-a-m-b-s-h-e-a-d. Just back from some work in India, heading now to Istanbul, and you Sir?”
I too am heading to Istanbul, and from there, Syria! I intend to find a lost city, deep in the deserts of the levante!
Lost city you say?
Yes in Rub al Khali
He doctor picks up his pipe and begins patting his pockets anew in search of a light, the EMPTY Quarter.
Leopold looks up at the doctor impressed.
Not finding the box of matches in his breast pocket, he begins searching the other pockets of his jacket, Empty, in this case, referring to the VOID, which is the same as AIN in the Cabbalistic traditions, you see. Rub al Khali being the secret door to the Void in Arab magickal traditions. It is the exact Arab equivalent to DAATH in the Cabbala.
He discovers a box of matches, opens it, and extracts one, But you should best beware the Jinn, He closes the box and strikes the blue tipped match, placing the flame in the bowl of his pipe. They came down from the stars, The Jinn, according to legend that is . . . long before the time of Adam. Built the City of Pillars it is said. He puffs the pipe to life and flicks out the matches flame, Where they apparently maintained a great influence on the earth. Much of the magic reportedly used in old Arabia came from the knowledge of the Jinn.
Well, I like mine dry. Tony Peterson says as he steps over to the table. He reaches for the ash tray to flick ashes from his cigarette, Room for another?
“Ah, Mr. Peeters here . . . is just about to pick the game.”
“Peterson, Tony, Peterson.” He says and reaches out his hand to shake.
Leopold shakes the hand with a smile, Peeters, Leopold Peeters.
“Nice to meet you sir, and you,” He offers his hand to the doctor.
“Dr. Lambshead. Dr. Thackery T. Lambshead . . . I say, I do think we met in passing earlier.”
“Possibly.”
“Oh, I say, what’s this.” The doctor takes note of a red stain on the cuff of his shirt, “That is blood if I am not mistaken.”
A glance to the cuff in question, Leopold gathers up the cards, trying to think of a game.
Peterson looks at his cuff, and smiles oddly, “Yes, well, I nicked it on the compartment doormy hand.”
“Oh, do be careful now.” The doctor returns his pipe to his mouth, “So, what is the game?”
In the Calais to Istanbul coach the door to compartment 3 closes.
The Mattie D’ strides up to the table with some gambling chips and places them before Leopold Peeters, who puts them to the side and slips the The Maître D a tip, which sends M. Henri on his way. In the tray with the chips marked Compagine International des Wagon Lits in gold, there is another deck of cards, unopened; Leopold Peeters smiles as he takes the second deck, opens it and discards the jokers.
Well, most of the games I know are rather, shall we say, high risk ones. That is unless, you are not opposed to high risk games. Leopold says as he fans out the cards of the second deck upon the table.
Dominique Provoyeur looks about the room. Someone has entered the compartment before her and seems to have done a thorough, but rather messy search.
Edgar Wellington’s room is a mess.
His luggage is all upended.
His clothing has been haphazardly thrown upon the floor.
The bed has been stripped.
Dr. Lambshead puffs on his pipe, “Oh, something to raise the cardiac rate I love it.”
Are you not opposed to, say, He smiles, Basset?
“Well, I would love a game alsoof course, if you don’t mind that my companion has all the money at the moment I am good for it.” Tony Peterson offers sitting forward at the table.
“Oh jolly good. The doctor leans over and pulls the ashtray back over towards him. “And that lovely lady friend of yours I am certain will stand you in good stead.”
“Yes, well the lady you were with, I am sure you stands you well too sir.”
Leopold Peeters smiles, And I stand for myself. Excellent. Let us begin. Chose a suit if you have a favorite.
The doctor looks up with a stern gaze, “She is no friend of mine sir.
Tony lifts a brow, So its that way? He reaches over and takes the suit of Clubs.
The way she is sir, is she is a member of a rather enigmatic group, which, when it fails to get its way can be rather dangerous.
And what is it they want?
The doctor looks at the Queen of Hearts.
Ah, Lady Luck? Leopold asks
The doctor takes the suit of Hearts, She does remind me of someone.
The lady in question? Peterson surmises.
Dr, Lambshead takes the pipe from his mouth, Oh, my no.
Peterson lays out the thirteen cards face up before him, So, doctor, what is it that this enigmatic group wants?
Something from my collection.
“Collection?” Tony asks, watching the doctor putting his cards before him.
“Right. The Castleblackney Key to be precise.”
“The what?”
“An odd little artifact I uncovered. It seems to be a rather an ornate key you see with some very strange carvings on it, and what is of especial interest . . . is that the key is still held in the grip of the hand of some mummified creature.
Creature?
Yes, quite. You see the hand has yet to be identified He puffs on his pipe, fighting to keep it lit, It is about the size of a rat’s paw, although it is more like a rather miniature hand, you see. It has an opposable thumb.” The doctor flares another match to life and puts in in the bowl of his pipe, drawing on the stem to exhale a growing cloud of Moroccan tobacco smoke.
The size of a rats paw you say? Leopold asks.
Precisely.
“And you collect shit like that . . . I mean stuff.” Peterson checks himself.
The gentlemen then settle upon the amount of a chip and each removes notes from their wallets and places them in an empty water glass Tony of course writing an I.O.U.
Leopold is very happy at the amount within as he begins to distribute chips to the players.
Where did you find this mummified hand Doctor? In India? Leopold asks, holding the full, first deck of cards in hand ready to play.
The Doctor shakes his head, “No, in Scotland of all places. And he looks up with a smile to the American, “And yes, sir, I have an elaborate cabinet of curiosities in fact. It has grown such that I have to do some renovations on the manor in order to extend it a bit. He whips the match flame out and drops it into the ashtray where it smolders. In fact, I am looking for one or two little treasures this trip, actually.
“Whiskey please.” Peterson waves to the dining car attendant, “One or two like what, doctor?
The door to Wellington’s room opens and Wellington enters to see Provoyeur standing in the middle of the wreckage that has been made of his compartment. WhatWhat are you doing?
The waiter returns and places Petersons drink before him.
Peterson lifts the drink and takes a sip,
“Oh, I have heard about a most mysterious pearl. A red pearl – crimson they say.” The doctor replies, distractedly straightening his cards before him.
Peterson almost chokes.
“A red pearl?”
“Quite.”
Are you alright M Peterson? Leopold asks.
“Oh, yes, I forgot whiskey here is Scotch.”
I believe you start the round M. Peterson. Leopold nods at the American trying to regain his composure.
“Oh, yes one of those for me also,” The Doctor nods to the departing dining car attendant.
A sherry for me, if you please. Leo adds
“I said what are you doing!”” Wellington closes the door and looks at the mess Dominique has apparently made, “I told you . . . ”
Peterson places chips on his Jack and Ace of Clubs.
Playing on two Mr. Peterson.
Ever cautious at the beginning of an adventure, Mr. Peeters.
The doctor drops chips on four of his cards.
Dominique steps over the upended suitcase, and approaches Edgar Wellington. She stands before him with a wicked smile, “Where is it?”
“I told you I do not have the damn book,
Book? She replies, I want the BOX.
His eyes widen.
She looks into the mans dilated eyes, and raises her brow: “Soyou know of the Box?”
Leopold Peeters removes a card from the bottom of the deck and turns it face up.
A Jack of Spades.
Ah, Mr. Peterson and Dr. Lambshead, so sorry. Leopold says with a smile removing the chips from Petersons Jack of Diamonds and the doctors Jack of Hearts.
They discard the Jacks to the side of the table out of play.
Peterson places chips on his six, seven, and eight of clubs and the doctor leaves the three cards with chips on them, only he adds a few more to his Queen of Hearts.
Leopold smiles after all the games odds heavily favorite the dealer.
Edgar Wellington reaches into his jacket pocket for the crumbled pack of cigarettes only one remaining, Dominique I swearI didnt have anything to do with it.
With what, Edgar? What did you not have anything to do with . . .
He puts the cigarette between his nervous lips, I had nothing to do with Alexis murder.
Butyou stole the box. Dominique says stepping closer to Wellington,
“Please, Dominique.
Leopold flips a card from the top of the deck, and places it face up: Ace of Spades.
Mr. Peterson, I am so sorry again, and you too doctor.
Leopold turns the next cardA Queen of Clubs.
He takes the chips from first Petersons Ace of Clubs and the doctors Ace of Diamonds.
Peterson and Dr. Lambshead discard their Aces.
Leopold counts his chips to match the doctors bet on his lady and slides them over to him.
Wellington forgets about his search for a light, as he is suddenly aware of the odd hand motions Dominique has begun to make as if she were constructing something in Origami. He is well aware of what they mean
You have to understand I needed the money.
Yes, you do are so desperate for a fix these days arent you Edgar. She says, Perhaps, I can help you with that for good.
The unlit cigarette falls from his lips.
Wellington grasps his throat.
The Doctor smiles as the dining car attendant arrives with their drinks. He takes a sip, and reaches down and bends the corner of the Queen of Hearts.
Leopold raises an eyebrow, You let her play on?
She is lady luck, is she not?
Peterson hesitates before making yet another bet, distracted as he is, as he has been every since the doctors mention of the Crimson Pearl.
Wellington staggers back up against the wall.
He gasps for air, his fingers clawing at the collar of his shirt, undoing his tie.
“Who has it Edgar. Who had you steal the box?
I-I cant!
The choice is yours.” She tells him stepping closer.
The trains steam whistle blows.
“Oh I say, Mr. Peeters I do hope you shuffled that deck a bit.
WhoEdgar?
Fingers at his throat, “I can’t.” Wellington gasps.
“Very, well, the choice is yours.”
The next face up card is a Six of Spades followed surprisingly by a Queen of Diamonds.
Dr. Lambshead beams, My lovely lady.
Peterson takes the bet from Petersons six, discards it, and then looks at the doctors bet he has to pay now 7 times the bet.
He pushes the chips over to Dr. Lambshead well, a small setback as there are only two more queens in the deck.
Wellington finds himself turning blue, as Dominique releases just enough pressure for him his gasp, I-I cant they will kill me . . .
She steps closer, her eyes narrowing, And you think I wont?
Peterson drops a few chips on his cards, while Dr, Lambshead bends the corner of his Queen of Hearts and places chips now on his 10 of Hearts.
Leopold turns a five for his first card, and a ten for his second.
Once again Peterson loses, but the doctor wins with his Ten of Hearts.
As he slips the chips over, he watches the doctor bending now the corner of his 10.
He has two cards in play that have won.
Dominique grows weary with Wellington as suddenly she flicks her fingers and the addict is hurled across the room where he slams into the compartment wall next to the window, Tell me Edgar
Please he gasps.
Tell me who took the box?
With a motion of her hand the window raises.
Melted snow rains upon the floor of the compartment.
Leopold plays another hand, dealing first an deuce and then there shows for his second card, the Queen of Clubs is revealed.
Dr. Lambshead removes his pipe, Oh, bad luck old boy.
A cold wind howls into the compartment.
The sound of the train hurling along the tracks fills the room.
Wellington feels cold sting of the fat flakes of snow falling through the opening.
“You are running out of time Edgar and I am running out of patience.
Leopold now has to pay the doctor 15 times his bet .
The blue-tip of the match flares into flame as the doctor puts it to the bowl of his pipe and begins puffing, Of course that is the way of cards, dont you know, next hand might turn the trick as it were.”
Leopold Peeters hesitates Perhaps . . . perhaps . . . He watches the doctors long fingers bending the third corner of the Queen of Hearts. If he turns about Queen on the second card, he will be paying the doctor 30 times the bet.
Wellington lies on the floor leaning up against the compartments wall just beneath the open window, snow falling upon him.
I stole it I stole it, He gasps.
Dominique Provoyeur steps forward and kneels down to grasp the front of the barely breathing Edgar Wellington, Who did you steal it for?
Wellington looks up at her, The-the Legati . . .
Her eyes grow suddenly very cold; they narrow as she angrily pulls him up. The Legati!
She forces him around so that he is kneeling as she shoves his head outside the window. The cold air and the snow whipping through his hair. The icy water from the snow having melted against the window splatters upon his face.
He hears the roar of the train.
He sees the hoary earth racing below him . . .
With a wave of her hand the window suddenly slams down violently on the back of his neck with the force of a dropping guillotine blade.
The trains whistle blows loudly.
Blood splatters the glass.
Wellington’s head falls to the earth hurling past.
Dominique with a flourish of her fingers motions toward the closed window and it slides open; the remaining torso of Edgar Wellington lifts up and flips out the window.
His headless torso topples and then upon hitting the snow covered earth rolls over and over on the frozen ground.
The train roars past.
Dominique reaches up and closes the window, watching the melted snow on the glass mixing with the blood on the windowpane.
“I said the choice was yours.” She says softly to rapidly departing body of Edgar Wellington.
She turns to look at the debris of Wellingtons compartment.
Her anger becoming increasing concern now that she knows who is involved . . . The Legati!
Are they on the train?
I must confess should another queen arrive, I would be hard pressed to meet the bet, unless. And Leopold places his hand into his coat pocket.
“Best watch yourself Mr. Peeters, Tony replies lighting a cigarette with a match he has taken from the box the doctor has left lying on the table, It seems like our good friend here the doctor is a shark I think. The Ten and the Queen are both now in play.” He advises as he whips the match out and tosses its smoke trailing comet over into the doctors ashtray.
Dominique Provoyeur opens the door to the compartment, seeing no one in the narrow corridor she steps out and closes the door.
The doctor lifts up his pipe once again and puffs quietly, looking across the table at Leopold Peeters.
I propose that in order to support my bet, should it come to it, I will have to use something other than cash . . . and so, perhaps this will suffice. And he pulls out his handkerchief, which appears to be wrapped about something. He sets it on the table. There is an unnaturally loud clink as it hits the wood.
The doctor peers around the curl of smoke from the bowl of his pipe.
Tony Peterson looks at the handkerchief.
Leopold slowly unfolds the cloth to reveal a magnificent, perfectly spherical object of crimson red. Perhaps doctor this might be adequate should yet another queen arrive at the inopportune time.
“By Jove, may I?” The Doctor asks in excitement, “It is it is the Pearl, isn’t it?”
Pearl? Leo picks up the object. Perhaps. It might be a pearl that is ever possible.
Tony looks at the small blood red pearl, and remembers what Angelique had said that the captain of the ship, which had carried Isaac Collins to America, was reported to have said upon seeing it, “Like Lucifer himself plucked out an eye.”
Leopold Peeters reaches over and picks up the pearl to hold it before the two men, I found this in the mud in Ypres in ’14. It has kept my company in all my years since, though thick and thin. Never leaving my side.
May I The doctor asks.
Leopold nods and hands over the small crimson pearl.
The doctor gingerly holds it between his fingers and feels an odd warmth and slight vibration from the small sphere. “The Crimson Pearl. I thought it more myth and reality.”
Leopold smiles wryly, Perhaps one of you will own it?
“I say, you best be careful old man, there are those whowell those who would kill for this, you know.”
Leopold takes the pearl back from the doctor and places it on the open handkerchief and prepares to deal out the next hand. Bets, gentlemen?
“Strasbourg fifteen minutes.” The Maître D says as he walks past the table, “Monsieurs, we shall be arriving at Strasbourg in 15 minutes.”
The train’s steam whistle blows.
The doctor looks at his cards and oddly now he seems to hear a small voice whispering to him, a voice in his head, “You have the winning hand Doctor I can provide you fortune beyond your imagining.”
Peterson knows he does not have the finances to play and sighs a smoky breath as he looks over at the handkerchief, “Tony I am yours for the taking All you will have to do is kill the doctor.”
His eyes go wide, where did that voice come from?
“One more hand Leo, we have been together for so long . . .” The voice tells Leopold Peeters, ever used to the odd voice in his head its strange inflections, as if placing emphasis on all the wrong syllables.
The Maître D passes the table and looks at the handkerchief, “I am yours, all you have to do is watch and wait M. Henri. A quick knife in the back for the winner and I am yours” He hears a voice telling him.
Tony wishes Angelique would walk into the dining car.
Where was she? What was she doing?
“You and me Leoalways together.” The voice tells Leopold Peeters.
“You can do it now Tony, grab that Champaign bottle from the ice bucket, smash it quickly and cut his throat, you can get off the train before anyone can even react . . . and thenI am all yours.” The voice tries to seduce him.
Cue Music End of Episdoe