The Camden Tales

41 - Black Lake

-=₪ February 1926 ₪=-

Coroner's Office / Margate / 1.39am

Everyone had gone home for the night, their office doors locked, the lights turned out and plunging the building into darkness. The only sound that could be heard was the cold wind howling through the corridor.

One door remained open, only a crack, which was bursting with vertical light. Inside, a wiry man worked alone with a magnifying glass strapped to his head. His pointed features and rolled shoulders, hunched over a cadaver of which the ribs had been cracked open and spread. His thick black hair shone from the excess grease applied to it, which had been combed meticulously to one side.

The man's delicate work was focused on removing the heart, making precise cuts, the sharp blade sailed through the pulmonary trunk, freeing the organ from the chest. Carefully, his fingertips felt around the hollow muscle and slowly lifted it from the cavity. Hearing a noise somewhere else in the building, he froze.

"Maggie? Is that you?" his voice echoed but was met by silence.

He couldn't be sure what he'd heard, perhaps a strong gust of wind caught one of the sash windows, causing it to bang in its frame. Turning to reach the nearby scales, the coroner lowered the heart into the dish. As the needle bounced he heard another sound, this time it was much closer. Glancing over his shoulder he glared at the shadowed vertical line between the door and its frame. Something moved across the gap, he jumped, his own heart began to pound.

"M-Mags?" he said with great apprehension.

The darkness began to bleed in as the door started to slowly open, his pounding heart drummed so loudly in his ears it was deafening. Breaking out into a cold sweat he lunged for his scalpel and held it out in front of him at arm's length.

Unable to find words or any sound at all, he remained silent, his trembling hand pointing the scalpel towards the darkness that poured in thickly through the growing doorway. A silhouette appeared and letting out a silent exclaim the coroner took a step back; his panicked breaths made him lightheaded.

"Rather a late hour to be working, is it not, Mr Johnson?"

The male voice was firm and unknown to the coroner.

"W-w-who-are-you?" he stuttered, keeping his blade pointed towards the silhouette.

The figure didn't answer, instead it entered the room, allowing Mr Johnson to see more of his intruder. He was at least six feet, well built, and stood straight, serious, and confident. The very bushy, but also well-groomed black beard, hid most of the man's features along with his intentions.

"You are going to do something for me." the man stated casually looking about the room and seemingly unphased by the sharp implements, cadaver, blood, and organs.

Hands in pockets, the long black coat kept the imposing figure shrouded, despite the lights, and the wide brimmed hat he wore kept his eyes in shadow. However, the way the intruder spoke didn't suggest imminent danger. Mr Johnson began to feel a little hopeful, maybe if he could do as this man asked he could get out of this situation with his life intact.

"W-what?" he asked, unsure if he actually wished to know.

"Put the blade away Mr Johnson before you catch yourself a slap." said the stolid man as he looked the coroner up and down.

Slowly, Mr Johnson lowered the scalpel to his side while also being certain to remain on the opposite side of the table from the shadowy figure. The intruder gestured for the blade to be set down on a nearby surface, the coroner complied.