The Time Travelers' Club: Chapter 25 -- The House of Beeswax

Chapter 25 – The House of Beeswax

A gust of wind brought up a foul stench off the water.  Mrs. Steers handed Sam another peppermint and the jar of menthol.   After smearing a fingertip of the greasy salve under his nose, Sam took a deep breath.  "Mrs. Steers, where exactly are we going?"

"I'm not sure.  Where would you like to go now?"

Sam thought for a moment then popped the peppermint in his mouth.  He didn't know enough about London's attractions to say what would be worth seeing.  "Perhaps we should get back to the reason for this trip and see more places where Jack the Ripper hung out."

"An excellent idea, but, I would like to take a quick trip first."  Mrs. Steers opened her guidebook. Sam shrugged, annoyed by her indecisiveness.

Sam wanted to know about Xavier Graff.  Turning to Mrs. Steers, he saw she wasn't reading the guidebook, but instead the slip of paper which she had inserted between pages.

It must be the slip of paper he put into her bag… It must be a note… It has to be…  Maybe I could look at the guidebook…  How could I get it?

Just as he mustered up the courage to ask, Mrs. Steers said.   "Aha!  I have it.  Let's go see Madame Tussaud's."

"Does she have something to do with Jack the Ripper?"

"No," said Mrs. Steers.  "Madame Tussaud's Exhibition is a museum full of wax figures of famous people.  Listen to this…"  She read from her guidebook.  "…the chamber of horrors, containing casts and portraits of executed criminals, the guillotine that decapitated Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, and other articles of a like ghastly nature."

"That sounds cool.  Let’s go.  I could take notes for some other project."  He couldn’t pass up the chance to see a real guillotine!

Mrs. Steers recited the incantation and they stood opposite the exhibition building.  A long cloth banner, fluttering in the breeze, read "See the World Renown Madame Tussaud's Exhibition" in bright blue letters.  There was a large crowd waiting to get in.

"Look at the people," said Mrs. Steers. "Sam, if we want to go in, it’ll be easier to walk through them.  I hope there will be plenty of room inside."

"Everywhere we go there're a lot of people.  Doesn't anybody work in London?"

"I suspect even at this time there were a lot of tourists, but who knows," said Mrs. Steers.

"Let's go for it," said Sam.  "Let's make it quick so I don't feel so weird about passing through them."

Racing though the unsuspecting crowd, Sam felt the temperature drop and a damp chill.  As he passed through the ghosts, it went dark then light then dark.  Losing Mrs. Steers, Sam hurried right into the heart of the lobby. Between the dark intervals, Sam was able to spot an empty spot area next to an older woman dressed all in black standing in a cordoned-off area.  He ran over to her side.

"Sam, you're inside the ropes," said Mrs. Steers from an alcove across from him.  "The management isn't going to like that."

"Who cares!   They can't see us."  Dodging as best she could, Mrs. Steers stepped through the red velvet cord which simply passed through her stomach.

"Sorry, I realized what I just said made no sense," said Mrs. Steers   "Inside the ropes is better than having people walk through you.  Well, look who we have here.  Madame Tussaud herself."

"Why isn't she moving?"

"She's made of wax.  She died several years ago according to that sign over there."  Mrs. Steers pointed at a label about her on the wall.

Sam gawked at the wax figure.   "Are you sure she's not real?   I swear she moved."   The wax figure swayed a little.  Mrs. Steers focused on Madam Tussaud’s face.

"It must be the wind or an optical illusion.  I'm pretty… sure... she's not real."  Mrs. Steers stared at Tussaud’s face, getting within an inch of the Madam’s pointed nose.

"Um… it's a little creepy, you staring at her like that," said Sam, tugged at her sleeve, breaking Mrs. Steers' deep concentration on Madame Tussaud's eyes. 

  "She's a little hypnotic, isn't she?"  Mrs. Steers realized she was being a bit intimate with the wax figure. "Sam, just for a moment, I did think she was a real live person. Such magnificent artwork and detail.  This is the work of a genius."

"Let's move on inside," said Sam. He watched the red velvet cord pass through his stomach, still fascinated by the mysteries of time-travel. The crowd swarmed through the entrances to the main exhibition hall where all the wax figures stood. Sam listened to their comments as the crowd entered and exited.

"…Oh, they look so real…  I am ready for them to speak to me…"

"… Works of art…   They are simply marvelous…"

"…Look here's Shakespeare…"

Once inside the exhibit, Sam and Mrs. Steers passed through another red velvet cord into the display areas, using it as a safety zone to avoid the crowd.  Sam leaned down to read some of the names on the printed signs, but only recognized a couple so far like Anne Boleyn and General Ulysses S. Grant.

Like the other exhibit-goers, he was impressed by their realism.  He started to tell Mrs. Steers how impressed he was and glad they had come, but she had disappeared.  

Scanning the crowd, he spied her in another roped off area on the opposite side of the exhibit.   She was re-reading the slip of paper. She's up to something… I want to read that note…  Maybe if I get closer…

Meanwhile, Mrs. Steers mumbled the contents of the note to herself. “When you get to The House of Beeswax, look for R & A.  Find a seat and rest for them.  Use B83LG.  Center r.m. 47 sq.  S Lamb and Rup S.  Post "QVDJ.”

Mrs. Steers immediately knew what the code meant. She was to use her 1883 London Guide.  Look at the red map, find the center of square number 47.   Look for streets that started or ended with 'Lamb' and 'Rup.'  Once there, she would have to find a post box or something similar.

Weaving his way closer to her, Sam passed through the red velvet ropes and crossed the stream of exhibit-goers. Sam edged his way closer to Mrs. Steers.  He was within a few feet of her when two people stepped out from behind a wax figure of Abraham Lincoln and greeted her.   Sam hid behind a female wax figure then peeked out around her.

I recognize them.  They were the other two in her back parlor that night.  They must be part of the spy ring.  Got to get close enough to hear what they're talking about.  Sam wanted to find out who they were and what they were doing.

Ducking through the crowd, he stood behind another wax figure of someone he didn't recognize.   He looked down at the label.  Dinah Kitcher.  Whoever she is.   From his vantage point, he could now hear their conversation.

"Damn them," said Mrs. Steers. "Will they ever learn? At least, thanks to you Ari, we know they have only a partial copy of the book."

"I do not comprehend why they continue to do this," said Rose. "They have yet to succeed.  Herkeimer is a dimwit…"

Herkeimer?  Who?  Doing what?  Sam thought.

"Be nice…" said Ari.

Rose stuck her tongue out him.  "You say funny things…  Have you seen Xavier? We received a message from Jameson saying he knows the location of where they are putting the pen.  We were to get that from Xavier via you."

"Yes, here it is," said Mrs. Steers, handing a note to them. "The House of Lords."

"We are assured it is a black-ball point pen," added Rose. "You are to meet Jameson?"

"Yes, he's got another copy of the book," said Mrs. Steers. "I have to get it.  Rose, once you complete your part of the mission, I need you to guard Sam." Mrs. Steers wrung her hands.  "I hate to do this to him, but I have no choice. Xavier gave me my instructions on how to locate Jameson's shop."

"Does the lad suspect anything?" said Rose.  Mrs. Steers shook her head.  "Good, he is lucky.  We are on our way to see which bumblers the Doctor sent to do his dirty work." With that, Ari and Rose walked away and vanished.

Sam wondered what Mrs. Steers meant. What is she going to do to me?  She must be a spy. Maybe that was what I couldn't figure out about her.  She's totally Mrs. James Bond. Involved in foreign espionage.

Mrs. Steers surveyed the crowd looking for Sam.  He pretended to study, according to the label, a likeness of Isabella, the wife of Edward the Second, when she approached him.

"Sam, there you are.  Enjoying the figures?"

"Yes, these are amazing. What's next?" asked Sam while thinking to himself.  Maybe a quick trip back to the Palace to assassinate the Queen?

"Why don't we head back to Whitechapel?   Maybe we will discover the true identity of Jack the Ripper?   I just hope we don't see him killing someone."