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Episode summary:
"Mr.
Thomas Jacobson and Mr. Sylvester Fealy are the toast of the Edwardian Musical
Hall's; their cheeky humour and slapstick comedy are a big hit with audiences
all over the British Empire. They play to packed theatres, but in East London
they draw the attention of the Local Detective Inspector, who realizes that
young women keep disappearing where the pair performs. They also have the
attention of Mr. Tibbs because souls are going missing where they perform.
"
Episode Warnings:
Alcohol
– Smoking – Strong language – Strong Violence [including supernatural violence]
– Sexual references – Strong graphic horror & Demonic references.
Author’s notes
about this episode:
[1]
The original Title for this episode was: ‘THE DEADLY COMICS.’
[2]
A ‘Jericho Tibbs’ original story.
[3] Illustration is an original image found in the Public Domain without any references whatsoever, I thought it could be a Joakkin Pastor, but apparently it’s not! If you know anything about this please contact the author via his website: https://stephenjohnwilliams.blogspot.com
Episode details:
Concept
date: 27th May 2018
First published: Not available.
Status: COMPLETED, BUT UNPUBLISHED.
Location: BOOK SERIES 0 – EPISODE 0.
Revisions: 6 [Last revised May 2023]
Version:
Final Draft?.
Published Episode No. 00
Previous episode: NONE
Next episode: NONE
Age
recommendation: 15+
Average
reading time: Approx. 30 Minutes.
Angel-in-charge: Francis
Team
Assigned: Team 74
Human
Time: 1910AD-1327AH
Mission: 4
- 899163 - 5 – 1910
Episode Preview:
Big Reginald Kelp eased from his rough little stool and placed his naughty magazine down. He had been reading ‘Spotlight’ – an underground magazine of risqué stories, gossip and crime – such magazines were colloquially known as ‘penny dreadfuls’ and were extremely popular at this time. They carried the secret scandals of the rich and royal’s that the papers wouldn’t touch. They also took delight in exposing fully the horrors of Victorian crime in all its gory details. He walked to the stage wing and stared at the act rehearsing: it was Mr. Thomas Jacobson and Mr. Sylvester Fealy [Mr. Fealy was actually new to the act, replacing his late uncle Edward who had just died] so the pair needed lots of stage rehearsal. Big Reg rubbed his chin and returned to his magazine and flicked back to page nine and gruesome murder at the ‘Piccadilly Music Hall’ in Manchester. Sure enough, of the three acts playing at the time, Jacobson & Fealy were one. He pulled a small key from his waistcoat and unlocked the small drab cupboard above his head and pulled down some more magazines. It took a couple of minutes, but he found the back numbers that he wanted. One, ‘The Spy’ magazine from last Christmas detailed the disappearance of two Chorus girls from the ‘Apollo Theatre’ in Blackpool. It named several variety acts performing at the time and sure enough: Jacobson & Fealy were one. He nervously flicked open a copy of ‘Spotlight’ from last August and read about the mysterious disappearance of a young singer, Miss Grace Flowers, from the ‘Venus Review Music Hall’ in Scarborough and it listed fully the acts performing at the time: Jacobson & Fealy was again shown.
Reg pulled out his dirty hankie and wiped his face and neck. He had read enough of these magazines to know that it surely wasn’t a co-incidence: they were only act that had appeared at all three mystery’s! He sat back down and carefully placed the three magazines into the old canvas bag that normally carried his lunch. He was the backstage doorman who handed out the dressing room keys to the acts as they arrived to perform or practice. Reg wiped his face again considering what he should do, or rather tell, about what he had discovered. He smiled as Miss Bella – billed as the ‘Sutton Songbird’ - appeared at the back stairs, wearing quite a ‘naughty’ outfit for the times. She was quite a beauty with a full hourglass figure and wonderful smile: the males of the audience all appreciated her flimsy costumes. It made up for the fact that she couldn’t really sing! But no-one seemed to mind, including the stage manager Mister Quinn Oaks who applauded her performances from the wings, most nights. Despite being old enough to be her father, he harboured some real passion for the young woman. But didn’t declare his ‘love’ for fear of her accompanying piano player: ‘King’ Kevin Tribble who was a big man with a reputation for violence who guarded his precious ‘songbird’ like she was gold bars. Many a love-struck young man had been knocked down the back stairs just for approaching her with flowers!
“Reg darling, can you ask Irene to push a bleeding duster over my room. You can bleeding see the tracks of the roaches and ants in the dust on the window ledge!” She declared, pushing her large and apparently troublesome bosom back into her stage, star spangled, bodice. Reg grinned and nodded, and watched as she bounced past, catching a wonderful glimpse of her cheeky arse in her vivid pink stage hose. “Like a couple of footballs in a bloody pink bag.” He muttered to himself and returned to thinking about his little problem with Jacobson & Fealy. ‘How could he make some cash from his newfound knowledge?’ was the dominating thought. Reg owed certain people some money, well, actually it was a lot of money, considering how much wages he received at the ‘Paradise’. And they weren’t the type of people who would wait too long for payment.
He even had his regular ‘prossie’ on bloody credit! [Prossie was slang for prostitute] and her pimp ‘Nasty’ Gordon McKenzie [also known locally as ‘the Scottish Shithouse’] was on his back for his money. Then he owed rent for his bedsit and could find himself on the bloody streets soon if old Mrs. Livingstone didn’t receive something. Reg had a real problem with opium and was a regular visitor to Limehouse and the ‘Lotus Tea rooms’ which was a façade for a Chinese brothel and opium den. He spent most of his time off there, smoking dope and being ‘tossed off’ by the girls. He had acquired the habit whilst a merchant seaman whose ship made regular visits to Shanghai, and it had already cost him his long-suffering wife – Rose – and his three kids. She had packed up and left last year, taking the kids with her, after the landlord threw them out for not paying the rent. Apparently, she now lived with a widowed butcher in Brixton as his ‘housekeeper’.
“Good luck with that mister meat man. She was a cold bitch in bed and always asked – mid coitus – if I would hurry up, she wanted to read her bloody book!” Reg chuckled at what he had said to himself and thought about Jacobson & Fealy again. They were certainly successful and must have a bob or two tucked away. Maybe they would ‘loan’ him some, if he kept what he had discovered to himself and definitely not bring it to the attention of the local coppers. They [Jacobson & Fealy] wouldn’t want any scandal, so, the desperate Reg formulated his plan to make some quick money. But he wasn’t the only people interested in the Victorian comedy and song act: Jacobson & Fealy, but it wasn’t for money.
Jericho leaned back and stared up at the imposing theatre, thinking that in ten years or so, one of his best female agents – Miss Dorothy Hadden – would be on stage performing as a magician assistant. But for now, she would be happily playing in her nursery. He turned to Alex and smiled, “Can you sing?” She slowly nodded, he knew full well that she could if the mission called for it. “Good, because I have arranged an audition with stage manager, a certain Quinn Oaks, to view our act and you’re the star of the show. Your obvious charms should get us signed up without too many problems.” Owen chuckled, rolling his ‘bowler’ hat in his hands, “Flash your knockers baby sister and we’re in!” he said and received a ‘tut-tut’ from Divij who brushed down his very smart three-piece suit. He loved this time period mainly because most men [well, the wealthy ones] dressed smartly and he took a sniff at the carnation in his lapel. “Try and keep your speech relative to this time period Owen, no 1970’s American slang please. It appears Inspector Franklyn was not always a good influence on you.”
Owen was about to reply – and not politely – when the saw the look on Jericho’s face and so he just nodded, exchanging a glance with Alex who did something rude with a finger and her mouth towards their sergeant. Jericho just sighed to himself, Divij was actually a good temporal detective but certainly wasn’t a team player by any means. But he [Jericho] had already wrestled with whom would replace him – if necessary – and all the good sergeants were already taken. Their Inspectors certainly wouldn’t let them go. Well, that wasn’t quite true, there was an excellent sergeant, but he was currently stood down – suspended – for taking some real risks on a mission which almost ended in disaster. He was being given some time to reflect upon his actions. Jericho found he was chuckling to himself. The young man reminded him of himself, there was no doubt about that: he [Jericho] couldn’t remember the number of times he had been stood down for his actions over the many human years he had served in the Department. Not now of course, he was an Inspector, and his fuckups were between him and the Duty Death Angel who ran the Temporal Detectives Department. And they were not for public digest.
Inspectors took ‘holidays’ or carried out ‘private errands or missions’ for the angel: they were rarely suspended or stood down for their ‘misdemeanours’. That made him look at Owen, who was nearing the end of his ‘training’ period. He would soon attend his final course and pass out as a full Temporal Detective Constable and would almost certainly be moved to another team as a full Detective. He wondered how Alex would react to that after losing Wilson to promotion. He knew that little trio had been closer than they should be, but had proved incredibly effective on missions: where it counted. Owen interrupted his thoughts, repeating his question that Jericho had apparently missed first time round, “So, what exactly are we performing for the happy audiences of the bloody ‘Paradise Theatre & Music Hall’ to delight in?”
Jericho leaned forward and slowly grinned; “Well, we’re the King Harry strolling minstrels, a sort of old English, Tudor or medieval singers and musicians. I’ll strum my lute, sorry, ukulele and you’ll bang a side drum, whilst Alex belts out very naughty and risqué songs and ballads with her breasts almost hanging out. We should go down a storm!” Owen groaned, matching Alex in her reaction. Then Alex jerked a thumb towards Divij, “And what part does our dear sergeant play in all this?” The sarcasm in her voice was not hidden. Divij snorted and brushed down his immaculate suit again, “I am, of course, your manager.” Now that made Alex and Owen laugh, who had to ask, “How come you’re not the manager Jericho?” The Inspector shrugged his shoulders; “He can’t play the bloody ukulele!”
Everyone laughed at that, well, except Divij who just grunted, saying that he had never learned a musical instrument when alive, so why should he learn now?
Note: The ‘Paradise Theatre & Music Hall’ also appears predominately in the early Edwardian episodes of “Miss Dorothy Hadden”, another series written by the author.
"ALEXANDRA AND THE MAGICIAN." 
IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER
“All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.”
CAUTION:
“SOME OF THESE EPISODES CONTAIN VERY STRONG LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, HORROR AND SEXUAL REFERENCES. Some are RECOMMENDED suitable for persons aged 15+ years only.”
THE AUTHOR.