The Devonshire Epicurean Society

Though it pained me mightily to witness the young lady undergo this brutal treatment, we were obligated to maintain our charade as depraved adventurers, so we both returned to the other girls, where Holmes inquired of them:

"By any chance, do any of you tasty lambs happen to know the whereabouts of another lovely little suckling piglet, Audrey Ermine?"

"Oh, HER!" This was practically spat out by Helen, the girl who'd allowed her self to be carnally 'used' by the randy constable. "She's gone - and, good riddance to bad meat, I say!" she answered in a rather surly tone laced with a Midlands accent. "All she ever did was complain, about everything!"

"About what, exactly?"

"This n' that, the food we's given, the treatment by the kitchen staff - just about anything! She thought she was 'li'l Miss High an' Mighty', how she was 'a good girl, from a decent family', didn't want to have any fun with either the staff or the guests, like the rest o' us - cause she was a 'virgin', an' all! Well - " she gave us a wicked, nasty grin, "they took care o' her, finally, and moved her up in 'main course rotation' - lucky li'l cow!" She remarked this last rather bitterly.

"What Helen means", added Anne-Marie, "is that poor Audrey, for being so willful, didn't get her wish."

"And, what was that?" I asked, despite my rising unease.

"Audrey wanted to be made into a stew," said Elizabeth, "or, at the very least a 'girl soup'!"

They all shared a giggle at this, as Holmes persisted.

"So, then - what did happen to poor Audrey?"

"They made her into a roast, a flamin' oven-roast!", replied Helen resentfully. "Serves her right - and here, I was goin' ta be the main course for tonight! Now I have to wait a whole 'nother month!"

"She did look lovely, though - all 'trussed up and nicely basted', with an apple in her sweet mouth." said Jessie. "We all got to see her going into the oven, earlier this afternoon."

A cold pit of dread welled up, deep inside me, as I instantly remembered the distinctive, delectable aroma that wafted out of that oven! My stomach started to heave, as I desperately fought back the urge. Holmes' face grew ashen.

"You mean..."

"That's right", Michelle now joined in, "she's going to be your dinner for this evening! And," she sniffed at the air, "I'll wager she's just about done right now, I can almost smell her from here!" She looked directly at us both, pleased. "I just know you'll enjoy her, she was a lovely girl, with a goodly bit of meat on her bones!"

Holmes and I exchanged frightful glances. Our thoughts were as one. He paused, then solemnly intoned ...

"I'm afraid, Watson - that we shall have the gravest burden of reporting back to our dear Miss Audrey's poor parents the most dreadful of news!"

Suddenly a Chinese gong was sounded by the open kitchen back door. The dinner bell! Msr. Dolcett appeared next to it.

"Ladies and Gentlemen,Madames et Monsieurs- dinner will now be served in the main dining room, if you'd all like to take your seats, we can commence,s'il vous plait? Merci!"

The crowd wandered in, leaving Holmes and I - and, the "meat-girls", with the guards. The poor deluded young women called out to us as we took our leave:

"We hope you enjoy your dinner! Come back soon!"

"Quick, Watson," Holmes said to me, "go ahead inside, and take your assigned seat, I'm sure it'll be next to mine! Cover for me - I must return to our carriage alone for a moment, won't be long! You do have your revolver on you, correct?"

"Yes, but - Holmes, what do I..."

"Tell them anything, that I forgot my medicine there, and will return in time! Stall for time, man, and remember - play along, as best you can! Now, go!"

And with that, my colleague made for the carriage-park, leaving me with no apparent choice but to follow the rest of our "fellow gourmets" inside!

* * *

As we re-entered the spacious mansion, we were ushered down yet another tastefully decorated hallway into an impressively large "dining room", expensively furnished and well lit by crystal chandeliers suspended from a very tall ceiling. In the center of the room was an immense dining table of dark mahogany wood, covered by a tablecloth of the finest Irish linen, and arrayed with pairs of crystal candlesticks. Each place setting was of the very best Wedgwood chinaware, accompanied by fine sterling silver flatware, and Waterford crystal goblets. Pairs of ice buckets on stands, holding magnums of Dom Perignon champagne, a '97 vintage, stood at the ready.

Our fellow "diners," as well as myself, took our seats, aided by elegant engraved place cards. Liveried servants seated us, as I made my apologies for Holmes'/"O'Halloran's" temporary absence, explaining that he'd felt the sudden need for a "before-dinner nip" to sharpen his appetite. God only knew, I certainly could've used a bracing draught of some strong liquor myself, to fortify my courage! Dolcett was quite accommodating, and encouraged everyone to begin with the soup and appetizers, that the "main course' would be brought out after these dishes had been cleared.

I found myself with Holmes' empty seat on my right, and a relatively charming noblewoman, who'd introduced herself as Lady Antonia Forsythe, with her husband, Lord Forsythe, on my left. As we sampled the vichyssoise, and asparagus in hollandaise sauce, she engaged me in some light conversation.

"So, do tell me, Dr. - Worthing, is it? What exactly is your medical specialty?"

"I'm, uh - I'm a surgeon, a member of the staff at Queen's Hospital in Mayfair. I was originally an army physician, and then, after the India campaign, went back to university for further surgical training. I found that, in the aftermath of battle, a surgeon was of much more use in the field, than an ordinary medic. For emergency limb amputations, that sort of thing."

"Well, that soundsdreadfullyfascinating, I'm sure, Doctor!" She smiled as she wiped her mouth daintily with her linen napkin. "All that carnage, and that sort of thing! You must have a very good working knowledge of human anatomy, then? The muscles, skeletal structure, and the like?" She leant towards me a bit, with a most unseemly - for a British lady of high breeding - gleam in her eyes!

"Perhaps, then - you'd be the best candidate to help in the carving of our dinner roast?"

The woman was close to licking her lips in anticipation! I didn't know exactly how to reply to this last bit of apparent ghoulishness, when a familiar voice saved me the trouble.

"Yes, Worthing, that's a capital idea! I'd say - go for it, old boy! Ladies and gentlemen, please excuse my tardiness, a bit of pre-dinner libation, you understand!"

It was Holmes, just returned from his mysterious errand, as he seated himself at my right, to welcomes from the others. There seemed something different, however - a vague change in his appearance. Though I'd breathed a noticeable sigh of relief at his entrance, I was secretly appalled at his suggestion!

"Well, er - not really, you see - I'm actually retired from active surgical practice, I'm only in a consulting capacity these days."

"Nonsense, old man!" exclaimed Holmes, "I'm sure that you'll be more than up to the challenge, you never forget old skills that easily! We'll let you have a go at it, when they bring her out! What do you say to that, good people?"

He glanced all around at the nearly two-dozen guests, who almost unanimously agreed: "Quite right, would love to see you in action, old fellow," and the like! I forced a grateful smile at them, then - as they turned their attentions back to their dishes - fairly glared at my friend!

"Holmes," I muttered under my breath, "what thedevildo you think you're doing?"

"Careful, Watson," Holmes replied out of the corner of his mouth, "remember - we have to make our participation in this look as genuine as possible, until Lestrade gets here with his men! Continue to play along!"

"Are you quite certain that he's soon close at hand? I really don't know how much more of this ghastly charade I can maintain!"

"I've just taken care of that while I was gone! Now, continue to enjoy your meal, and the good company of ourpeers!"

With that, we both went back to our first courses, and rejoined the conversations with others.

Finally, "the moment of truth" was at hand! After we'd had a chilled fruit sorbet with water crackers to cleanse our palates, and the wait staff had cleared away the soiled dishes, they returned to light the candle tapers, and dim the chandeliers. Soon both the cannibal chefs, Ludovico and Gurgurant, accompanied by Msr. Dolcett, wheeled out what appeared to be an enormous table service cart, carrying a rather outsized covered serving platter, of fine sterling silver. At this, the rest all stood up and applauded loudly, some even cheering! I'd never heard such an appreciative reception since both Holmes and I had seen the wonderful Miss Sarah Bernhardt in "Salome" in the West End, some dozen years ago now! Dolcett and his "partners in crime" all beamed proudly, and brought the cart to a stop near us, towards the table's middle. The certain knowledge of what lay beneath the innocuous tray covering was rapidly making my face flush, along with my heart racing in the most dreadful anticipation!

"Ladies and gentlemen", the man spoke, "the moment you've all been waiting for - tonight's main course! Our talented and gifted chefs have once again prepared for your most discriminating and refined dining pleasures - a feast for the very senses, a most rare delicacy, found in only the most exotic dining venues!"

They applauded again, Holmes joining them, and gently goading me to follow suit. The waiters appeared again with large, preheated meat plates, which they laid before each diner with practiced speed. Grasping the handle of the serving platter's domed cover, he proudly announced:

"May I present to you, for your most welcome enjoyment - Roast Suckling Pig a la Orange!"

And, with a grand flourish, he removed same - to reveal:

The late, lamentable, dear Miss Audrey Ermine, entirely nude and pubic-shaven, in the same manner as the other "meat girls" - and, ROASTED!! She was laid on her right side, her fair skin now oven-crisped to a perfect dark golden brown, arms and legs tied at the wrists and ankles, and folded underneath her. There appeared to be, indeed, an orange-citrus-like glaze all over her body, and even the ceremonial baked red apple in her poor little mouth! At least her precious eyes were mercifully closed, "blind witness" to her doomed suffering! There were also various exotic fruit garnishes surrounding her on the platter, as she lay there on a bed of fresh baby lettuce leaves, looking for all the world as, indeed, as an actual human female "long pig"!

My heart leapt into my throat! No matter how much I'd tried to prepare myself for this eventual sight, nothing could've spared me the intense mixed emotions flowing through my agonized mind and heart: of the deepest, saddest sympathy for both the unfortunate waif and her poor, dear parents; and of immense hatred and revulsion for both these fiendish "cooks", and their depraved "dinner guests."

And, yet - I know our gentle readers may NEVER believe this - I also felt, actual HUNGER, of a rapidly-growing, horrific variety, for the "aroma" of the "roasted meat", was... immensely appetizing, just as when we'd first passed by the demonic oven, where the pitiable young woman was no doubt baked alive! I tried to control the quickly gathering upsurge in my tortured stomach, and desperately hoped my face wasn't displaying my horror!

Amazingly, as I glanced at Holmes, he seemed - relatively unperturbed at this astonishing sight! Indeed, he kept right on playing the part of the degenerate ex-justice with relish!

"Well," said he, "I do hope you've all brought a healthy appetite! I know I, for one, can'twaitto tuck into this mouth-watering little dish!!"

They all laughed rather wickedly at this - the women as well as the men! The monster Dolcett approached Holmes with a sizeable, and scalpel-sharp, carving knife with fork, and presented them to him.

"Monsieur Sir Joseph, it is a custom among our group of fellow gourmands to present the opportunity to carve the roast to our newest members! Would either you, or Doctor Worthing, care to do the honors?"

Holmes accepted the devilish implements most graciously, then announced:

"Thank you, thank you very much indeed, Msr. Dolcett, but I do believe the good Doctor here could do much better justice to such a rare and finely-prepared delicacy! Worthing, if you would, please..."

He handed the carving knife and meat fork over to me, and I took them, terror-stricken! In the lowest tone I could muster, I implored him!

"Holmes, dear GOD, man!! I just can't do this, it's - it's inhuman!!"

Still smiling at the others, he intoned so only I could hear:

"Yes, I understand, Watson, it's inhuman what's already been done to her, but we obviously can'tundo it, we can only seek justice for her death, and prevent similar fates for the other girls! Now, please, old fellow - buck up, and do as I say - go for her hindquarters first!"

There seemed no other possible choice at the moment! Dazedly, I took the proffered carving ware from him, and prepared to address the poor creature on the platter. After a long moment's pause, I... stuck the fork tines into her left buttock, flinching inwardly even as I did so! To add to my hellish discomfort, I felt all eyes fastened on me, as I proceeded to carve with the sharp knife.

"Steady on, man, steady on - just think of it as another 'autopsy', Watson - the patient's already deceased!"

I then began slicing downwards into her meat - I mean, flesh - clear steaming juices immediately began to flow, and the musculature underneath was, incredibly, a light pinkish-white, almost exactly as a well-cooked pork loin might appear! Again, that tantalizing aroma... coming from what was not very long ago a lovely, caring, sweet young girl doted on by her caring parents... now nothing more than "cooked food" for these most despicable excuses for humans! I began to feel light-headed, faint...

It was then that Holmes gently but firmly took the tools from my trembling hands, and smiled his apologies to the diabolical crowd.

"The good Doctor has been under quite a bit of duress lately, what with his duties and all! I told you, Worthing, you should've joined me in an aperitif, to calm your nerves!" Amid more polite laughter, he continued, "I believe I can perhaps do justice to this succulent roast after all! Many are the times I was called upon to carve up Christmas turkeys and suckling piglets back on my estate!"

And, with that pronouncement, he quickly and assuredly began to carve several "rump steaks" from the girl's buttocks! "Now", Holmes inquired, "who would care for some fresh, tender, young 'pork loin'?"

It was if the crowd veritably lived for that moment! The hungry diners eagerly handed up their large plates to him, as he continued to carve, filling each one in turn with a sizeable portion. It has often been remarked upon here before, that when Holmes had forsaken the dramatic arts as a career choice for the field of criminal investigation, the stage had lost one of its greatest thespians. And, at no other time and place was that more evident than then, and there! Still, I couldn't help but wonder if my friend's infamous emotional detachment from anything outside his "sphere of concentration" hadn't gotten the better of his innate humanity, as I looked on in dread fascination. And yet, as he smilingly worked away, filling plates, I could hear him mutter under his breath, to himself ...

"Lestrade, Lestrade - whereareyou, man, it's getting rather close to the wire..."

Finally, all plates were full, including both Holmes' and mine. As everyone sat back down, and began to address their ghoulish dinners, I merely sat back and watched Holmes carry on with his grim masquerade, unable to lift a fork, whilst he deftly speared a piece of the "meat" onto his, and slowly began to raise it to his opened mouth...

Suddenly, there was a prominent and loud commotion from outside the dining room, as harsh voices were raised, shots fired in random succession, and shrill police whistles blew! Every one of the dinner guests froze in their seats, men's gasps and women's stifled screams mixing with the sound of silverware dropping hard onto china. Then, en masse - they quickly leapt to their feet, in an effort to flee the arrival, I fervently hoped, of certain and inescapable justice on their front doorstep! Holmes dropped his fork, and with a noticeable sigh of relief said:

"Ah, that must be our trusty Inspector Lestrade at last! The evening train must've been running a bit late. Watson, this charade is now ended - draw your weapon, if you'd please."

He then stood up, tore off the wig and sideburns of his O'Halloran disguise, and loudly announced:

"Kind ladies and good gentlemen, your days of barbaric, depraved indulgences are now over! I am Sherlock Holmes, and this good man is my loyal and trusted friend and colleague Doctor John Watson! You are all about to be swiftly placed under arrest by both Scotland Yard and the greater London Metropolitan Police, I do believe! Make no further attempts at evading them - it would reinforce your defenses later if you would simply cooperate with them now! Watson, cover them," he indicated the majority who'd not yet fled the room, "whilst I seek out Lestrade!"

As I trained my service revolver on the now cowardly, frightened, and guilt-stricken crowd, Inspector Lestrade himself, accompanied by a brace of uniformed officers, entered the room, heading straight for us. The lights rose again as the chandeliers flared.

"Sorry to be so late, Mr. Holmes, the train's engineer had to make an emergency stop for fuel. We saw the most shocking and outrageous sight out back, where they was keeping those poor young girls - I never saw anything like it, not in all the red-light brothels I've ever raided in my entire career, I - oh, OH, bloody HELL!"

He'd seen the remains of poor Audrey, and quickly turned away in revulsion.

"Mr. HOLMES... is that... is that what Ithinkit is?"

"Yes, Lestrade, it's exactly what you think it is - it's what's become of the late dear Audrey Ermine, and would have been the fate of each and every one of those other poor young women in that outbuilding if we hadn't moved upon these fiends as we have!"

Poor Lestrade still couldn't face the dreadful sight, turning away and retching. Then, without facing back, he instructed, "See if you can't find something quick to cover her up with, for decency's sake! Grab a jacket or coat from one of these... fine ladies and gentlemen!"

He nodded at one of the officers, who was also revolted by the sight, and went straight for Lady Forsythe, who got no further than ten feet away, grabbing her silken shawl to place over the remains. She gasped her indignation as he did so, and he coldly stared back at her.

"How could you do this? How could you face yourselves afterwards? Just what kind of monsters are you people?"

Lady Antonia glared at the young fellow with utter disdain.

"Rank, young man... has its privileges!"

As another officer wheeled the serving cart away, the first one firmly pushed her in the same direction. Holmes gestured towards the portions left behind on the dining table.

"Make sure you gather all her remains together, and send them back with a police escort to the London city morgue. We'll need them examined as evidence against these... 'people' in trial, as well as seeing to a proper Christian burial for the child! They should keep for now, at least. Did you apprehend the man Dolcett, and his diabolical chefs?"