The Frankenstein Murders (20 page)

Excuse me, Father, but since writing the above, dear sir, something has occurred of a most unexpected and unsettling nature. Victor has just received a letter from his father with only the worst possible news, which you may be aware. Now Victor will never know his brother William. To think that only a short time ago I wrote such hopeful words regarding poor little William. How could such an innocent life be taken so brutally? I am sadly grieved by this news and hope that Victor bears it better. I will be glad to be reunited with my own family, for certainly in such a situation your counsel would be most useful to me.

I hardly know what to write. Victor assures me that he can reach Geneva most quickly on horseback and that he is well enough to undertake such a journey. What exactly he means to do I know not, but can only hope his excessive distress will not overtake him on his journey and thus hamper his ability to pursue any measure to return home in what I can only hope is a safe way. I will end this letter here as I must do what I can to help
Victor with his plans to return to Geneva. I should be with you again shortly.

Respectfully, your son,

Henry

With every day that passes, this case threatens to be no more advanced than when it was first presented to me in England. The importance of relating the details, anything that might be important to know the monster-murderer, has become critical. I must analyze each element at its proper point in the investigation. A series of fatal strangulations executed by a ghostly predator who haunted the shadows, seen by none saving Victor Frankenstein and Robert Walton. Very little connects the murders as they were in no way concentrated in a small geographic area, but rather were committed in entirely separate locations. These murders also occurred over a considerable span of time. Nevertheless, I near the time when the decision-making process must take precedence and when I must come to a point when my complete findings are made known.

In any investigation, geography may be a particularly important consideration, because it may connect to the victim. A map with the Frankenstein murder sites located and a description of what each area is like can now be devised as I have visited each site. Two of the three were murdered out of doors, yet at great distances from each other, particularly Henry. One characteristic that all three murders share is that the bodies of the victims were found within minutes, and absolutely no attempt had been made to hide the crimes. In each case, manual strangulation was the cause of death. The time of day chosen
to commit the crimes appears to be entirely random. The time chosen would then appear to have more to do with what is most convenient rather than by some ritualistic choice of preferred hour. While nothing was stolen from either Henry or Elizabeth, the cameo was taken from William.

There were in total three victims upon whose all-too-fragile necks the monster placed his deadly hands, first William Frankenstein, then Henry, then Elizabeth. There were others who could also be considered victims of the monster: Henry's mother, suffering a long and lingering decline; Alphonse Frankenstein, worn down by personal tragedies; Victor died exhausted and spent in a wild chase over the north; Justine Moritz was executed for a crime she did not commit. The monster killed Victor's bride, but then Victor killed the monster's mate. Could the motive for Elizabeth's murder be revenge? When Victor did speak out about the murderer, it was too late. Elizabeth was dead, and those around him, he admits it himself, saw him as a madman. Caroline Frankenstein's dying wish, to see her son and ward married, was fulfilled — only to end with such tragedy.

The strangulation victims were also all young, and beloved to the Frankenstein family, particularly to Victor. It is possible that the victims were chosen more because they were readily accessible rather than because they were dear to Victor, as both William and Henry were alone and untended when the murderer struck. This was not the case with Elizabeth. In each instance of murder, there was clear evidence of manual strangulation, so for the most part it would seem that the murderer killed his victims swiftly. There was no sign of struggle, and an absence of blood, so the murderer was also able to maintain control of the victims.

The murderer, even such a frightful specimen as Victor Frankenstein portrays his creation to be, was able to perpetuate mischief undiscovered, and passed through so many countries undetected. There must have been a great deal of cunning behind the murderer's actions and behaviour that he could go about unrecognized. At times,
his presence is so clear to me; it is as if he were standing in the room with me so close that I could almost reach out and touch him. The fiend may, to this day, be wandering upon the ice of the North Pole, for I have secured nothing to the contrary. Geneva, the city in which the monster was conceived, has yielded little information of any concrete nature, so I can only hope that in Ingolstadt, the birthplace of the monster, my efforts will be met with greater success.

I started from my sleep with horror; a cold dew covered my forehead, my teeth chattered, and every limb became convulsed; when, by the dim and yellow light of the moon, as it forced its way through the window shutters, I beheld the wretch — the miserable monster whom I had created. He held up the curtain of the bed; and his eyes, if eyes they may be called, were fixed on me. His jaws opened, and he muttered some inarticulate sounds, while a grin wrinkled his cheeks. He might have spoken, but I did not hear; one hand was stretched out, seemingly to detain me, but I escaped and rushed downstairs. I took refuge in the courtyard belonging to the house which I inhabited, where I remained for the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life.

Victor Frankenstein described the journey by carriage from Geneva to Ingolstadt as long and fatiguing; my experience with the same journey was significantly less pleasant. Although it would mean greater expense, I have considered hiring a private coach or horse for the remainder of my travels; this would allow me greater speed, if not a good degree more comfort. The stagecoach stopped at what seemed a multitude of countryside relay stations, when only a few of those stops were necessary to allow passengers to disembark, or for the horses to be fed and watered or changed. This had the unfortunate effect of slowing the journey immensely. What could have taken us a matter of days, took the better part of a week.

One particularly taxing day of travel, the weather changed overnight; a harsh wind brought a thick, dull sky and an incessant drizzle. Darkness seemed to come even earlier in a day that had little light. The driver, muffled in his greatcoat with his hat fixed firmly on his head, must have been wet right the way through. Little wonder he seemed unmoved by the complaints of his passengers, only interested in the flick of his whip even when a small woman in a high, petulant voice cursed the driver, suggesting he would surely kill us all if he did not take more care. The air was cold and it penetrated the interior of the coach. Although the windows had been firmly shut, small cracks in the roof allowed droplets of rain to fall on my fellow passengers and
me. Everything felt damp to the touch, most especially the cracked and worn leather seats.

While taking refreshment during one of the stops, I learned something of Ingolstadt from a fellow traveller, a butcher who had been born and raised in the city. I was glad of being provided a reprieve from the monotony of the journey, a chance to ease my aching limbs from the crush of the carriage, as well as pleased to gain information about the city that had such a profound influence upon Victor Frankenstein. Ingolstadt lies on the southern fringes of the Franconian Alps in a wide plain in the Danube Valley amidst large tracts of forest country. The city was the former residence and stronghold of the Dukes of Bavaria. Far west, on the edge of the old town, rose a kind of fortress, with seven towers and turrets. There was also a Ducal castle built in the fifteenth century, which, I was informed, was massive and old. Before I was obliged to listen to a complete history of buildings in Ingolstadt, our driver called us to regain our seats in the coach. The butcher, who fell asleep, snoring heavily before the wheels had barely begun to turn, was a broad fellow, so we two needed an entire bench. The other three, all smaller, were forced to share one other bench. We two, although afforded more space, were however assigned to the bench that positioned us backwards, which may have led to my slight illness today.

Mr. Clerval's letters of introduction to Professor Krempe and Professor Waldman, Victor's teachers and mentors at the university, will have reached them by now, and I expect to hear from them shortly. From these two gentlemen, I will endeavour to gain greater detail of Victor Frankenstein as a student. Thus far, attempts to confirm the existence of Frankenstein's monster have failed to produce witnesses. Waldman and Krempe can provide expert opinion, perhaps even first-hand knowledge, regarding Victor Frankenstein's claim to have been capable of creating life from death. I have reacquainted myself with all the pertinent details from Robert Walton's journal regarding Victor Frankenstein's activities while in Ingolstadt.

After Caroline Frankenstein's death, Victor was sent to study at university in Ingolstadt. At first reluctant and resistant to his studies, Victor was quickly drawn in and took up once again his love of natural science. While in the midst of his studies, Victor rekindled his interest in Paracelsus and Agrippa; his thoughts and experiments were influenced by their writings. It was as result of his reading that Victor Frankenstein happened upon his great discovery: bestowing animation upon lifeless matter. After many weeks toiling at his work, Victor managed to bring a creature of unusual size and appearance, sewn together from the pieces of corpses, to life. But instead of celebrating his success, Victor was repulsed by what he had done and the hideousness of the creature. Victor shunned the creature's attempt to get near him and fled his rooms. He was saved from returning to his rooms by the arrival of Henry Clerval to Ingolstadt, and the brain fever to which Victor succumbed shortly thereafter.

The unexpected arrival of Henry Clerval in Ingolstadt must have meant that for the first time in weeks, perhaps months, Victor had almost no thought of his monster.
Henry might stand between me and the intrusion of my foe. But he (the monster) had promised to follow me wherever I might go.
While Victor was tended by Henry, the monster was with impoverished gentry, the DeLaceys, in the Black Forest of Germany, learning how to speak, read, and love. Once recovered from his illness, Victor spent idyllic time with Henry Clerval, until Victor received a letter from Alphonse Frankenstein telling of William's murder and begging him to return home immediately. Victor returned to Geneva, but not quite directly.

Apparently, the last of Henry's letters was written from Ingolstadt just as Victor Frankenstein received the letter from his father that told of William's murder. If Henry sent other letters from Ingolstadt, I have not been made privy to them. The letters by Henry Clerval have proven quite informative, so much so that I desire to look at more. When I asked Mr. Clerval for any other letters Henry had written at that time, my host looked ill at ease. Nevertheless, I pressed
my point and Mr. Clerval promised he would do what he could. I fear that the other letters are in Mrs. Clerval's possession and so near impossible for Mr. Clerval to procure, not without ruining his plan to keep her unaware of my true occupation.

While in Ingolstadt, I shall endeavour to verify everything Captain Robert Walton has recorded of Victor's tale, and with much persistence and some luck expect to come away with even greater information about the monster than Victor provided.

With Mr. Clerval's assistance, I secured rooms for myself and Mutt at the same inn where Victor and Henry stayed. Although the innkeeper had nothing of interest to say about either Victor Frankenstein or Henry Clerval during their stay, the inn has the benefit of being close to the university, thus the location is certain to prove advantageous for our investigations.

Professor Waldman's response to Mr. Clerval's letter awaited me at the inn. A meeting was set for the day after my arrival, and Professor Waldman requested that I visit him in his chambers. I was obliged to hire a carriage, as the address was some distance on the other side of the city. Professor Waldman lectures on the history of chemistry, but his rooms, I was glad to discover, did not have the look of a scientific laboratory. They were warm and inviting, although the carpet and the arms of the upholstered chairs were worn a bit thin.

Professor Waldman himself was closer to sixty than fifty years of age, and very little of his hair was the black it had been in his youth. He was no longer, as Victor Frankenstein had described him, short yet erect in person, with a clear, pleasant voice easy to the ear. He had become a much older man, more in his ways rather than in his years. He was seated before a fire too great for the season, with a shawl tucked carefully about his knees. After a brief introduction, I took a seat somewhat back from the overwhelming heat thrown by the flames. Almost immediately, Professor Waldman bade me move my chair closer to his.