Chapter 5: Rumors

Walking through the streets of Camberwell during the day was like walking through a shopping mall. Commerce and industry began to boom within the wealthy parts of town, as rich people of all shapes and sizes walked along the sidewalks, with some speaking English and some speaking French to each other. James couldn’t feel any more out of place.

Dressed in black with a large overcoat and a briefcase at his side, his brown hair free of a wig and tied back behind his head with a black ribbon, he felt every eye upon his back. He clenched his jaw and his hands tightly, doing his best not to grind his teeth into powder or to snap the handle of his briefcase.

He looked around at the men and women dressed in whites and blues and browns, their elegant ensembles layered over their powdered skin and wavy wigs. If James had to describe it in one word, he would say pompous. The French influence was evident in everything people wore, which only placed him further out of place with his obvious London style.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” James said, starting a conversation with two noblemen sitting at a table outside of a tea house. He pulled his badge out of his coat pocket and flashed the both of them with the bronze piece of metal. “My name is James Granton, I work for the Vampire Investigation Bureau, and I am here to ask a few questions about the possible vampiric infiltration that was reported to us.”

One of the men looked up from his teacup, and he raised a brow at James. “A vampiric infestation, you say? Well, I can assure you this is the first I am hearing anything of this,” he said with a snooty raise of his nose that made James’s jaw clench once again.

The man sitting next to him spoke up as well. “Now hold on, old boy, I mentioned this rumor to you last week over golf.”

“Oh, right! I called you a pansy for believing in such things.”

The men laughed, and James went to speak again when he was rudely interrupted by the first man.

“Tell me, young man; I was not aware clowns were allowed out of the circus, so why are you here?”

James’s fist clenched into a tight ball at his side.

“Forget about it. Good day, gentlemen,” he spoke through his teeth, forcing himself to be polite. To keep himself from murdering them, he walked off to find another group of people, all the while drowning out the laughter from the two men.

The next few groups weren’t much better. Not only did some of them seem unaware of the situation, but most of them thought it to be fake drama, off handed rumors spread by tipsy aristocrats.

“I believe your bureau has been swindled to believe the ravings of gossip. The wealthy are bored, so they often make things up to find something to do or pay attention to,” a woman claimed to James as she sat back and crossed her legs on the park bench he found her on. She tilted back her perosaul which shaded her from the sun, to actually make eye contact with James and speak to him.

“I’m starting to believe you may be right…” James said as he wrote this point down in a journal. He had started writing down any little rumor to analyze later, but as he reread everything, he realized that most of what he had was a neighbor sh*t talking about their other neighbor.

“Sorry, Mr. Granton,” the woman said. Her mouth opened to say more when her friend next to her suddenly spoke up.

“Have you talked to that Albino yet?”

James looked at her, a little taken aback. Albino were rarely ever heard of, let alone known within a wealthy community, and from the sound of it, he had the same status and respect, considering they knew who he was.

“Who are you speaking of, miss?”

“Why, Edwin Lavant. The nobleman in the woods. He deals in imports and exports of exotic fabrics. I’m sure he would know when something strange is about; he always asks our husbands or us if we have seen anything odd, much like you.”

At the mention of Edwin’s name, James felt a hint of recognition, and he felt the slightest ring in his ear building slightly. His name was on the list of attendees for the masquerade he was meant to attend. He blinked his eyes a few times, however, to bring his focus back to the two women in front of him.

The first woman nodded in agreement with her friend. “Yes, an odd fellow. I always feel jealous when I’m around him. I mean… how does he always get his hair to be so perfect and never frizzy?”

The second woman laughed. “Right? And his makeup never looks clumped or anything. It’s rather unfair if you ask me.”

“Ladies, if you don’t mind…” James said, trying to cut into their womanly talk. This was the first lead he had had all day, and he really wanted to get a move on and look into this man, not just because he could have information for him but to address this ringing in his ears.

“Right, right,” the first woman spoke again. “Lord Lavant loves art and loves to support it; you will most likely find him at The Blue Elephant Playhouse tonight.”

James wrote the name of the playhouse down in his journal, and he nodded. “Thank you so much, ladies. I sincerely appreciate your help and cooperation,” he said, bowing his head to the both of them, causing the two to giggle. But his mind was elsewhere as he walked away from the two of them with a reignited determination.