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Octavius Guy, Esq.@sendforoctavius.bsky.social |
69 followers 45 following 360 posts
Investigator-in-Chief for the good Mr Mathew Bruff, famed Solicitor at Law of Gray's Inn Square, London. Sick of being followed around by a certain author I could name but won't. This is my daily journal.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Monday July 11, 1853. "Something has happened to my sister Kate." The young man in the chair opposite me frowned. "Happened, sir?" "She is the youngest of my four siblings. She always used to be so jolly but now she has withdrawn into herself completely. And I should like to know why!"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Sunday July 10, 1853. When the Minister got to the quick and the dead bit, I glanced along the row only to find Annie, eyes shut, head bowed in prayer. I can't have imagined what I saw last week. I can't have. I kicked a stale half loaf of bread all the way home along the canal.
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Buzzbead
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And a few Bath Oliver biscuits perhaps?
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Saturday July 9, 1853. Mr Hurst's cook and his maid weren't very happy with me when I made my report. "Papa, you should let this fox have the cheese," begged his daughter. "For all we know, he may have a young family to support." "I suppose you want me to throw in some grapes as well?" he replied
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Friday July 8, 1853. The garden again. The maid exited the servants' entrance with a basket of washing in her arms. She omitted to close the door. A fox darted in unseen by her, and I ran to confront him. The little beggar was dragging a third wheel of cheese out in his chops!
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Thursday July 7, 1853. I sat hidden in Mr Hurst's garden watching the door to the kitchen area. At one point his daughter emerged from the drawing room to tour the borders and cut some roses. She didn't see me. Unbeknownst to me the cheese thief had eyes on me the whole time!
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Wednesday July 6, 1853. "This door, miss, between the larder and the passage that leads to the back yard...is it always left open?" "She regularly forgets to shut it, the forgetful old bat," the maid who was passing whispered to me. "What's that you say, girl?" "Nothing, Cook, nothing."
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Tuesday July 5, 1853. "First it was one wheel," Mr Hurst's cook informed me, "then yesterday it were a second. And don't go getting no ideas that I was to blame!" she added. "I wouldn't," I assured her. She gave me an evil stare as she trimmed the pastry from the pie she was making.
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Jan
@townsendtowers.bsky.social
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If it’s a goats cheese I’m interested!!!!
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
@sendforoctavius.bsky.social
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Monday July 4, 1853. The advertisement I placed is beginning to reap its rewards. Two families came forward today. I left George to deal with them (and hand out our employer's business cards) while I attended to a new, more promising case. The theft of a wheel of cheese, to wit.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Sunday July 3, 1853. Annie glanced along the row and smiled at me in church this morning. I swear she did. I swear it. It was when we were meant to be praying.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Saturday July 2, 1853. A kipper each for breakfast. After Julius and Tricky departed for Mr Carney's fish stall I made my way to the Bucket of Blood. The dogs seemed happy to see me. "'Ere, these owners you talked about," muttered Bertha, "they're goin' to bleedin' collect 'em, right?"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Good day Gentlemen and Ladies all!
As much as I may disparage that writer bloke @mtgallagher.bsky.social, who follows me around the livelong day, I will admit that his penny dreadful recountings of my former efforts are not without merit, especially as they are free.
There, I've said it.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Friday July 1, 1853. One-eyed Bill, formerly of Shad Thames and now (thanks to Bertha) on the run, had been stealing dogs to sell to the gentry. Mr Bruff agreed to take out a newspaper advertisement appealing for owners to come forward after I convinced him they might well become clients.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Thursday June 30, 1853. Jojo is back with the Bagleys. The rest of the dogs we found are with Bertha at the Bucket of Blood until I can trace their owners. Mr Bruff was not amused. "But sir! You *want* me to investigate missing pets!" "For my clients, Gooseberry, for my clients!"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Wednesday June 29, 1853. Shad Thames is a foul and evil warren of shacks on the south bank of the Thames. Even Bertha, whom I had chosen to accompany me, glanced about nervously. "Wot's it we're lookin' for?" she asked again. "A miniature poodle." "Dogs?" she said. "Like them over there?"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Tuesday June 28, 1853. Rotherhithe turns out to be an unusual confection of docks and market gardens, with a faint whiff of tanneries to the sou'west. Mrs Bagley described the man who took Jojo: a swarthy type with an eye patch. "He just scooped her up and ran towards the river." To Shad Thames?
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Monday June 27, 1853. A new week brings a new case, though I hardly expect it to be promising. A Mr Bagley of Rotherhithe claims that his dog has been stolen. "Are you certain she didn't just run away?" I asked him. "I am," he said. "The missus *saw* her being taken."
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Sunday June 26, 1853. I passed three narrow boats on my way to church in Camden Town. The occupants of the last one I chanced upon were frying their breakfast over an open fire on the towpath. During the service I gave thanks for the existence of bacon.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Saturday June 25, 1853. I wrestled with the notion of tracking down Billy the Shim to give us both lessons in lock picking. I decided against it, having picked up so little from him the first time around. Joined Julius for lunch at his fish stall. I bought us pork pies.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Friday June 24, 1853. "The fact is," I told George, "I'm just no good at picking locks." George scowled and shifted his weight in his seat. "And that's why you refused to teach me?" I nodded. "But a good detective should be able to pick locks," he said. "I wouldn't go that far," I replied.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Thursday June 23, 1853. Poppet has been reunited with her doting family. One more happy customer. I returned to the office only to find George sulking. "The testimonials on the walls could do with a dusting," I said. He picked up his newspaper and sat down in a chair.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Wednesday June 22, 1853. George has stopped speaking to me. When a client arrived with a case of a missing dog, he stood by the window and fumed. Hence I am currently stalking the streets of Mayfair on my own. "Poppet?" The dog I'd addressed regarded me quizzically.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Tuesday June 21, 1853. "What if I were to teach you how to pick pockets, George?" "You tried," he said. "It didn't work out. You said I had clumsy fingers. Besides," he added, "it wouldn't be right. That'd be stealing." I blinked. "But picking locks is morally acceptable?"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Monday June 20, 1853. George stared at me across my desk. "You don't want me to know about lock picking, do you?" I looked away. "It's not that I don't want you to know," I replied. "It's that I don't think picking locks is right for you." Or me come to that. I was useless at it.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Sunday June 19, 1853. "What are you doing after the service?" George asked. His sister flashed me a smile as she entered the church. "I was thinking you could teach me about lock picking," he continued. "Sorry," I said, "I have something important to do." He grunted and shrugged.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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His wife's and his mother's unexplained departure should be enough for Mr Bruff to argue reasonable doubt in Frederick's case. I doubt anyone can prove him innocent, miss.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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I doubt they'll be back, miss.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Saturday June 18, 1853. My trainee detective George has asked me to teach him how to pick locks. "We could do it on Saturday," he'd said. "A thousand pardons, my friend," I'd replied, "but I am otherwise engaged on Saturday." Went to Kings Cross Station today to watch the trains come and go.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Friday June 17, 1853. My employer is not a happy man. Frederick's wife and his mother have fled the country so he can now sow seeds of doubt at Frederick's trial. But any payment that may be forthcoming will depend on the trustees of the father's will, of which Frederick is not one.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Thursday June 16, 1853. George and I hid across the road waiting for Bertha to come out. When she finally did she had a smile on her face. "It bleedin' threw 'em when I said their old man's ghost came to me. 'You tell Old Bill wot you did,' I shouted, 'or I bleedin' well will!'"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Wednesday June 15, 1853. It was, I decided, the ideal job for Bertha. After all, for some months she had shared her home with a medium. George and I spent the day with her perfecting her performance. I must say she enjoyed herself...but will she remember her lines come the morrow?
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Tuesday June 14, 1853. "They're in it together, George," I said. "I am not sure which one of them stabbed him, but both seem content to let Frederick take the fall." "Literally," George observed, then frowned. "It's hard to believe a mother would do that. What are we going to do?"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Monday June 13, 1853. After interviewing Frederick's wife, I asked to see her sewing box. She immediately became alarmed. "Why?" she asked breathily. The lad's mother, who had clearly been listening at the door, ran in and demanded I leave. *Hmmm...*
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Sunday June 12, 1853. I sneaked a glance at George's sister. I blushed when I saw her gazing back. "It has to be one of the women, George," I whispered. "The mother and the lad's wife?" I nodded. "Or both of them in concert." "Hush," he said. "The service is about to start."
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Liz Stevens
@lizziekillin.bsky.social
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or the wife - lamb to the slaughter is the phrase that comes to mind
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
@sendforoctavius.bsky.social
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Saturday June 11, 1853. I wasn't happy with how this case was going. A simpleton, with no idea *how* he'd taken his father's life, had been brought into custody. The murder weapon, a pair of scissors, had been stuffed into the man's gut. Mr Bruff will hate my conclusions.
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Liz Stevens
@lizziekillin.bsky.social
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The Mother looks suspicious to me
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Liz Stevens
@lizziekillin.bsky.social
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George always seems to get on well with the staff 👍
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Friday June 10, 1853. "There is something terribly wrong here, George," I offered. "Frederick, as simple as he might be, had no idea what he stabbed his father to death with." "And the father weren't no saint," George concurred. "He made his family's lives Hell." *Hmmm*...
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Thursday June 9, 1853. While I continued my unsatisfactory interrogation of Frederick, George was busy in the kitchen. "So Mr Knight was not a nice man?" Cook placed a second bowl of stew before him and cut him more bread. "He was rotten to the core," she said, passing him the butter.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Wednesday June 8, 1853. "Frederick, can you tell me what happened?" The "boy", who was some years older than George, just stared at me while his wife and his mother looked on. "My son stabbed him," said the latter. "What with?" I asked Frederick. He answered, "A knife?"
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Liz Stevens
@lizziekillin.bsky.social
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ooo something juicy to get into 🕵️♀️
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Tuesday June 7, 1853. Mr Bruff came to my office directly. "The son of an investment banker has been arrested," he announced, "for the murder of his father, no less!" "His name, sir?" "Frederick." "And he didn't do it?" "Of course not! The boy is simple!"
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Monday June 6, 1853. "So you finally found him." The footman stared down at the cat in my arms. "Sir, may I ask what you feed him?" The man's eyebrows shot up. "Cook makes him a stew. Why do you ask?" "He likes raw liver," said George. "And sardines," I added.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Sunday June 5, 1853. The service had been long-winded and boring. Even George's family seemed relieved it was over. Annie tossed me a smile from where she stood by the gate. "How is Mr Tibbles?" asked George. "Faring up. You know we need to return him to his owner?" George nodded.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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I thought so too, miss!
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Saturday June 4, 1853. "But Tricky doesn't like Mr Tibbles," my brother complained. "Then it's a good thing she'll be accompanying you to work," I retorted. "But why is he here?" "Because Mary won't let George feed him any more." Julius frowned then nodded.
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Friday June 3, 1853. Mr Bruff, my employer, poked his head around my office door. George froze, mid-pen-stroke, with the cat seated on the desk to his right. "What is that?" inquired Mr Bruff. "Sir," I said, "it is a cat. He is here to help us with our rodent infestation."
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Octavius Guy, Esq.
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Thursday June 2, 1853. Today George will make fair copies of Guy’s Rules of Detection in case anyone should ever request one. I shall polish the glass on all the testimonials we've received.
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