England,
County of North Yorkshire
Harbour Town of Whitby
04 October 1899, 10:52 a.m.

"I thought we'd never get here," Kaylee murmured as she smoothed out a few wrinkles in the tails of her dark blue tailcoat. Underneath, the detailed patterns of the silver-embroidered, black, and blue brocade waistcoat shimmered in the dull sunlight. In a swift movement, Kyle Crowford placed his top hat from Christys' London on his raven-black hair and then plucked at the sleeves to adjust everything.

This trip to Whitby turned out to be an unbelievable trip from hell. Not only did they have to change trains several times to get there, but part of the route from York to the tranquil harbor town was closed due to a bridge collapse.

The first part of the train journey was from King's Cross station in London to York. The sleek, fast trains of the Great Northern Railway, with their modern, spacious compartments, gave the start of their journey a pleasant atmosphere. They moved along nicely, and in the cozy carriages, Kaylee read over the dossier and the newspaper article several times, rolling over everything they knew so far and mentally running through all sorts of scenarios. But it wasn't easy to imagine what they would encounter in Whitby.

This lack of knowledge and the constant rattling of the train permanently strained her poor nerves. Therefore, despite arriving on time, she could have been in a better mood when they finally reached York. As it was already late evening, the two seekers decided to spend the night in the city before traveling to Whitby by coach early the following day.

Kaylee's stay in York was an absolute nightmare. Their landlord was a rude, coarse "Northener" who literally threw their greasy dinner on the table. Their bed was saggy and scratchy and smelled strangely of soot, and all night long, she heard dogs yapping in the nearby backyards.

The sight of the doctor in the morning revealed to her that his night had not been much better. So they silently boarded the first stagecoach bound for Whitby and fell asleep a short time later. Hours passed as their vehicle bumped along the roads of northern England, and when Kaylee opened her eyes again, she could already see the coast. Reaching for the window catch, she opened it slightly.

The stuffy air inside finally gave way to a fresh sea breeze. Kaylee tasted the sea salt on her tongue as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the mild autumn sun. Greyish clouds slowly gathered in the sky and began to dim the little light of day. It may rain later.

"A pretty little town," Ben, who had also woken up now and was pointing to the cluster of buildings in front of them, realized.

The town of Whitby dug into the land between several hills, and numerous tiny houses rose along the cliffs. An old monastery's impressive and eerie-looking ruins loomed ominously over the bay. A wide river, the River Esk, literally cut the harbor town in two before flowing into the North Sea. On the river's opposite bank, a headland rose out of the sea like an island and rocky cliffs frothed up the spray. The harbor basin offered enough space for several schooners and cutters to moor. A small lighthouse was flanked by huge rocks on one of the harbor walls.

A few fishing boats swayed gently on the waves that broke on the shore and jetties. They were so close to the water and the sound of the sea that the breeze carried the smell of the ocean toward them. Men and women sat on the street, preparing fish, mending nets, or opening shells with sharp knives.

"There are 199 steps that lead up to the old ruins of Whitby Abbey," Kaylee said, pointing to the slowly fading greenery in the distance, where at least the top of the crumbling crossing tower could still be glimpsed. "In 867, the abbey was destroyed during a Danish invasion, and the former name Streoneshalch disappeared and was replaced by Whitby Abbey. According to some legends, the whispering of Abbess Hilda can sometimes still be heard there." Her blue eyes lit up as she told Ben this legend.

Dr. Archer turned his head and gave Crowford a highly irritated glance. Then he surrendered to his greatest weakness and once again said what was on the tip of his tongue: "So you've done your research after all. Where did this sudden enthusiasm for Whitby come from?"

"Do you remember that I read a book over a year ago which-" Kaylee began, but Benjamin was already shaking his head in denial.

"Not really," the doctor replied quickly. "You often talk about some strange readings and weird novels. Too many for me to remember. Poe, Stevenson, Wells, and whatever they're all called."

Kaylee looked slightly indignant for a second. But then she decided that her urge to share her apparently overflowing knowledge with the doctor had a higher priority than venting her anger at his ignorance.

So she continued unperturbed: "However, Whitby is mentioned in this book." Kaylee turned her head and let her gaze wander over the harbor scenery. Then her gaze lingered on the ruins, far away on the cliffs. "And I'm ALWAYS interested in legends and mystical places. Whitby has a secret or two to share. In the context of our mission, it seems all the more interesting to me. Perhaps this strange sighting has something to do with the old monastery and the stories of the White Lady."

"There are legends here about a White Lady? So, the monastery is said to be haunted? We shouldn't ignore that," admitted Ben hesitantly, as he was less familiar with such occult matters. "I think we should go to the café in the article for now, though. We might be able to find out more about the event from the locals there. Then we could investigate these ruins."

That sounded like a perfectly reasonable plan.

Since they didn't know where they actually had to go, and Kaylee didn't want to be embarrassed enough to admit that she was overwhelmed by a simple map of the place, she pressed a shilling into the hand of a young, chubby-cheeked boy so that he could lead the two gentlemen to the café.

The screeching of seagulls accompanied their steps as they steered them firmly toward the lower part of Whitby. The proximity to the sea had taken its toll here: The paint on many of the pretty little houses had already faded or peeled off the façade in large chunks. Numerous shop signs were encrusted with sea salt or marked with seagull droppings, and the shop windows were faded, and their frames were rusty.

Some sold maritime trinkets, as Whitby had been a spa town for some time and was becoming increasingly popular with tourists. Souvenirs were on sale, such as small boats carved from driftwood, painted shells or stones, wind chimes, or even facsimiles of nautical tools made of brass.

Following the numerous, roughly paved paths to the harbor, small cafés, inns, and restaurants lined up next to the fish shops, shipping companies, and warehouses.

The boy finally pointed to a neat little house near the harbor, in front of which metal chairs with soft cushions stood around small tables. Large blue and white umbrellas protected the guests from the sunshine, and small showers and vases of fresh wildflowers had been set out. The café had a harmonious atmosphere, and the gramophone music drowned out the seagulls' screeching with pleasant melodies.

Kaylee and Ben chose a table from which they could look out over the swaying boats in the harbor. The sea was so close that the wind occasionally carried sprinkles of the foaming spray towards them.

"Well, how do we proceed?" Kaylee asked after they had placed an order. I could try to bribe the café owner or an employee," she whispered, leaning towards Benjamin mischievously. The café was already bustling for these early hours, with gentlemen sitting at several tables with newspapers or ladies with a cup of tea and small sandwiches. They all seemed too refined for this quiet harbor town—obviously visitors and tourists.

Benjamin let out a soft laugh as he leaned back in his chair and allowed himself to savor the idyll of the place for a moment. Sometimes, Kaylee made it much harder on herself than needed.

"How about we just ask?"

Kaylee's eyes widened as if Ben had suggested something completely insane.

"What, no! We can't just ask! That... we... no! What are you not understanding by 'discreet investigation'' doctor?"

A young girl, probably not yet twenty, made her way between the tables with a tray. Benjamin waved her over, and Kaylee shook her head, her eyes wide. "Archer!" she hissed - but too late.

"Your order will be ready soon." The girl with the rosy cheeks and the plaited braids of flaxen hair stopped at their table and smiled at them in a friendly manner. A few freckles adorned her delicate snub nose and narrow cheeks under lively green eyes. "Is there anything else I can do for the gentlemen?"

"I'm sure you can, Miss," Doctor Archer said politely, "We're from the London Times and-"

The young woman's eyes widened, and she brushed one of the blonde strands out of her face in an almost hurried movement - probably to make herself look a little neater. "You're from London? From The Times?" she gasped nervously, and Ben looked smugly at his partner.

Kaylee gave Ben an upset and reprimanding look. 'You fool! You're attracting far too much attention,' she thought, groaning inwardly. Not everyone liked the press, and quite often, people tended to give snoops a kick up the backside instead of the information they were looking for. Her imaginary self was already throwing her hands up in agony, wondering why Ben didn't leave the tactical use of untruths to an expert like her and never thought one step ahead. Oh well, then she would have to save the situation all by herself again.

Kaylee hastily raised her finger and put it to her lips.
"Shh! We don't want too many people to know who we are," she said, searching the young woman's gaze meaningfully. Then she winked charmingly and was pleased to see that the effect of the 'handsome young gentleman from the city' didn't seem to miss its effect this time either.

The young thing's cheeks flushed a little. Then the girl nodded obediently, turned her head to the left and right, and moved closer to the table.

"I'm sure you'd like to know about the incident with Milly, wouldn't you?"