Doctor Bianchi’s Office – Bianchi Investigations.
CharlotteCarrendar.
Doctor Bianchi’s Office.
It seemed that there was not just one at the door, but two. Genie could be heard singing out for her father, after walking past Reginald – who was still waiting to be shown through. Miss Nellie bobbed a small curtsey as she was still very much set in her ways of time past. Reginald had already sort of met the girl in the driveway, and it was clear she was related to the Doctor. Holding onto his back pack strap, Reginald heard the deep toned voice call for him to be shown in. Miss Nellie stepped back and gestured with her hand for Reginald to enter.
“Thank you so much.” Reginald offered as he went to walk past the maid. Miss Nellie asked of him; “Shall I take your bag, Sir?” As it was normal for her to take a guest’s hat, bag and coat. Reginald was not used to this kind of attention and said that he would rather hang on to it. Giving a light nod of her head, Miss Nellie showed Reginald through to the office door, which had the Doctor’s name written on a small plaque on the door. She reached for the door handle and then opened it, for both Genie and Reginald.
Sitting inside at an old wooden desk, that was covered in papers, photographs and odd old cups of tea, was none other than the Doctor. Johnathon Bianchi. The same Doctor who had treated women for hysteria back in the late 1800’s, the same Doctor who had mounted and solved many investigations in the dark back alleys and haunted houses of London and the surrounding shires and towns. The office walls were laden with Doctrates, framed photographs that dated back to the early 1800’s and newspaper clippings of some of the more shocking cases that were ever to be printed. Cookie came in through the side door that was attatched to the Office from the southern end of the house. She spotted Reginald and immediately her jaw fell open. This was going to be awkward. Johnathon could see Cookie’s distress, and cleared a space on his desk for her to put down the tray.
“More cups for tea, Cookie. We have guests.” The Doctor offered, as he then shot a look at Genie and winked. “How was the city, Genie?” He could see by how she was dressed that she had only just come back. Cookie fussed and placed down the tray, before taking up all the dirty cups that the Doctor had scattered all over his office. Every time she looked at Reginald, it was like…she was seeing a Ghost. Reginald was too busy taking in everything. From the decor of the room, to that of the Doctor, who was wearing clothes that were well over a century or more old. Johnathon gestured for Genie and Reginald to take a seat each, while Miss Nellie closed the door to the office. No doubt she would be eavesdropping. This was simply something to incredulous to miss.
Reginald sat himself down in one of the antique velvet covered chairs, but not before removing the back pack from his back and setting it down on the floor near his leg. The journal from his great grandfather was inside. At first Reginald appeared lost for words. It was like he had stepped back in time almost, until his eyes looked up to the top of the display case for skulls and other forensic samples only to see a photograph. His eyes widened as he stared at the photograph for a while. Johnathon could see where the young man was looking, and knew this was when the penny was about to drop.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor Johnathon Bianchi. And yes….that man in the photograph…..is your great grandfather. Detective Reginald Blaine. Scotland Yard.”
Reginald was shocked, to say the least. This was too incredulous to be true. “My great grandfather has been dead for over fifty years. You can’t be the same man he knew. How is it even possible?” Reginald asked. He looked at Genie as if she might know the answers. Cookie coughed and then left the room. She too knew the original Detective and always enjoyed the times he visited the Doctor. They were the best of friends.
The Doctor placed his palms together and drummed his fingers, as he stared the young man, who was a dead ringer for Reg.
“A mystery….to be certain, Reginald. I take it, you have many other questions for me. Don’t worry, we have all morning.”
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