by Blythe Baker
It was not something I had considered, not at all.
“Perhaps you are right…” I said. “But where would I go? It isn’t as if I would want to take the train all the way into Plymouth. How would I explain to my parents all that’s happened recently? What would that do but worry them?”
“What about taking a trip just outside of town?” Irene asked. “There are some lovely castles and ruins in this part of the country. Maybe you would enjoy going out into the countryside. Have some fresh air, clear your mind.”
“Irene, you are a wonderful friend,” I said. “You are always thinking of me and wanting to take care of me. Something like that never crossed my mind, but to be frank, it sounds wonderful.”
“Then perhaps it is precisely what you should do,” Irene said. “Your shop will still be here, as will the rest of us here in town. You need to take care of yourself through all of this, all right? We don’t want you to completely lose your sense of self.”
“I really don’t know how to apologize enough for how I acted yesterday…” I said.
“It’s quite all right, dear,” Irene said, though there was a definite note of curtness in her voice. “I do hope that one day you will find that you can indeed trust me.”
“I do trust you, Irene,” I said. “And I care about you. That’s why I’m choosing to keep most of this a secret right now. It really is for your own safety.”
“I know,” Irene said. “And I do trust you. I understand you wouldn’t have said what you said without reason. I realize it’s entirely possible that everything to do with…well, your late husband, really, is above what I should know. I don’t have to know everything, and that’s all right. It’s something I realized last night. I didn’t have to be so hard on you. I should have been much more supportive.”
“Thank you, Irene,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
Irene gave me directions to one of the nearest castles, and I found myself invigorated by the idea of spending a day away from Brookminster.
I realized that part of my anxiety about this whole ordeal was that I just wanted to control the situation. That wasn’t a complete surprise, but to realize that in me was a big development in terms of my character.
Getting a chance to take a step back seemed to be the best choice for me, and Irene was right. It might be just the thing I needed in order to clear my head.
The castle wasn’t all that far outside of town. George, Irene’s brother, was ready and willing to take me, as well as talk to me all about his newest pursuit, which happened to be funneling items that were needed for the war, like papers and ink and other necessities, from town to the train station.
When we reached our destination and he asked if I wanted him to pick me up again, I said that I certainly did, but wanted a few hours to explore the castle. Seemingly all too happy to hear it, he agreed to come just before sundown, when I would then head back home, hopefully after some much needed time of rejuvenation.
A kind woman at the gate house allowed me entrance, and after paying a few pence for admission, I wandered in to the castle’s courtyard.
It had once belonged to a Lord, far back in the early seventeenth century. The signs scattered about the place told tales of daring sword fights, lavish feasts, and elaborate balls that were once held within the castle’s walls.
There was a great deal that was still intact, but much of the northern side of the castle was nothing more than a crumbling ruin. Careful to avoid any gaps in stairwells, I headed toward the watchtower at the northeastern side of the castle.
It was much quieter out here. There hadn’t been any other guests through that day. The woman at the front gate had said as much. “Hardly any visitors out this far, given the state of the war,” she said. “It’s not a great surprise, though. We are hoping everything will go back to normal once the war is over.”
The idea of the war being over seemed so far out of reach that it was difficult to imagine. How was it possible that it had been going as long as it had? Every day, so many were giving up their lives. Families were forever changed, and for what? I could see no good in any of it.
The castle was beautiful, and it was a shame that no one was there to enjoy it.
Although…I’m not entirely upset that I am able to explore this place to my heart’s content, all on my own. It almost makes me feel like a princess…
The watch tower had spectacular views of the surrounding rolling hills and the valley. The trees were all changing in a beautiful array of colors, like the sunset had shed its colors across the landscape in order to preserve its own glory.
In the distance, Brookminster had begun to come to life as the sun headed toward the horizon in the west. Warm lights glittered from the windows, like tiny pinpricks, glowing in invitation. The houses and shops looked like the picture perfect scene, and so comfortable that I wondered why I had wanted to run away from there in the first place.
Everything was so peaceful up here, in the cool evening air, with the gentle breeze brushing against my face. I could have stood up here for the rest of my life, just taking in the view.
Irene was right. This was precisely what I needed.
Why was I so utterly consumed with dread when I was back in Brookminster? Out here, in the open air, everything felt so much smaller. Even my fear about Sam’s case seemed to have shrunken in size in my heart.
I took in deep gulps of the air, relishing the freedom that seeped into my bones. When was the last time I’d been alone like this? And in more than just my own home? When had I taken a step back from everything and just allowed myself to be?
I couldn’t recall, and realized that I needed to do it more often.
A footstep scuffed against the stone floor behind me.
A chill ran down my spine, and then the wind went out of my sails. Oh well. It was nice to be alone while I had the chance.
I moved closer to the crumbled wall, careful to stay behind the designated lines, and continued to stare out over the valley. The moment of peace was gone, though, having been snatched away by whoever had decided to come up to the tower instead of exploring the rest of the castle, of which there was much.
The footsteps behind me moved closer, and I turned to look over my shoulder.
A young man stood there, and it only took me a moment to realize I recognized him.
“Oh,” I said. “Hello there. Arthur, wasn’t it? Victoria’s son?” I asked.
He was taller than I remembered, with a layer of fuzz around his jawline that hadn’t been there when I’d met him a few weeks before.
“Yeah,” he said, his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket.
“Out here to enjoy the view as well, hmm?” I asked, turning to look out over the valley.
“No,” he said. “I’m here to see you.”
The edge in his words made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. “See…me?” I asked. “Why would you want to do that?”
He took a step toward me, and a gust of wind blew across the top of the watchtower.
He didn’t answer, but his gaze was hard, his clear, blue eyes fixed on me.
I took another step back, and beneath my heel, some of the stones shifted, causing my stomach to summersault.
“I saw you out behind the butcher shop yesterday,” Arthur said, his tone flat, yet the stiffness in his shoulders told me he must have been attempting to keep his anger in check. “Why do you keep hanging out around there?”
My heart started to beat hard, slamming against my ribs.
I didn’t imagine the door closing at the butcher’s, then…
“You heard that Sam Graves was killed back there, right?” I asked, doing my best not to jump to conclusions. “He…was a dear friend of mine. I said I would do all I could to help him, and I feel that helping find the person who killed him is my last effort to do just that.”
He made a sound like a grunt, kicking out with his foot against a loose stone, sending it flying across the top of
the watchtower. It clattered past me and tumbled down into the open air, only to fall three stories down to the ground below.
“I’m sorry, but why is this such a troubling thing to you?” I asked. “Why do you seem so put off by it? It has utterly no effect on you.”
Arthur stared blankly at me, a tightness around his eyes that made me stop and wonder what was going through his mind.
“It…it shouldn’t have any effect on me,” he said. “You’re right. I…it never should have…I didn’t mean for…”
My heart was hammering so hard against my ribs that I was certain he’d be able to hear it.
No…I thought. It can’t be. He’s not trying to admit that he –
“He never should have walked into the alleyway that night…” Arthur said, his gaze fixed on the rocky stone floor between us. “If he’d just stayed away, then this never would have – ”
Heart sinking, I stared across the watchtower. “You…you killed Sam…”
Arthur’s clear eyes flickered up to meet mine, a perplexed look on his face. “He shouldn’t have interfered…”
“What happened?” I asked, taking a step toward him. “How did you – ”
“I was climbing out of the window of the Mayfield’s house…” Arthur said in a rather mystified voice. “They were gone, had left that afternoon. I watched them pile their luggage into the cab and drive off. I thought it was the perfect chance for me to sneak in and see what sort of valuables they could do without.”
My brow furrowed at his flippant remark. “What sort of valuables they…you knew perfectly well what you were doing, then. And certainly have no remorse for it.”
“Why would I?” he asked. “Done that dozens of times before. People like the Mayfields have so much wealth, they won’t miss a few trinkets. People like me, though…we could certainly use the extra help.”
“But you don’t steal to get that sort of help,” I said. “You work hard for it, just like everyone else – ”
“Work hard?” he asked. “What am I supposed to do when no one would hire me because of my reputation? It was never my fault that the other boys in town thought they were better than me and saw nothing wrong with pushing me around and making fun of me. For my clothes, my father’s job…”
His brow knit together, and a dark look passed over his face.
“I told myself, even back then, that I would prove them wrong. I would find a way to be better than them. I already was better than them, but they just couldn’t see it. They didn’t understand…”
He looked out over toward Brookminster in the fading light of the day.
“No one ever understood me. That’s why they put me in boarding school, and everyone there hated me, too. So I wanted to learn how to get back at them, to cause them the sort of pain they’d caused me. I learned how to steal, and I got better at it every year. Students started losing pocket change, but slowly, bigger things went missing, and my closets and boxes beneath my bed were filling with the spoils of my endeavors. I realized it was something I was good at, and pretty soon, it was all I knew how to do.”
I had no way to counteract what the boy was saying. He was too lost in his own pain to ever hear my correction, and would never listen if I told him that what he was doing was so utterly wrong.
“When I came home from school, my mother insisted I join the army. When I refused, knowing she couldn’t force me, then she made me get a job. Mr. Hodgins wasn’t easy to please, but he also seemed to understand me in a way no one else did…so I started working for him.”
My heart skipped. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the rest of the story, having a sneaking suspicion that I already knew how it would unfold.
“I started to wonder if I might actually be able to make a decent living working at a real job,” Arthur said, defeat clear on his face. “I actually like working for Mr. Hodgins. He’s taught me a lot. He trusts me with a great deal, and I don’t want to let him down.”
I pursed my lips, biting back the words that wanted to come. He’d found someone who was willing to try and whip him into shape…but was it too late?
“Then I heard the Mayfield’s were going out of town,” he said. “The temptation came back, and it was too strong to resist. I promised myself I was only going to take a look, make it my last time, but I didn’t expect him to catch me like he did…”
“Sam…” I said. “You’re talking about Sam.”
The last of the sun fell down below the horizon, bathing the southern part of the tower in shadows from the fallen, broken rock wall. Arthur stood just beyond the pool of darkness, his pale face turned upward toward me. “Yes,” he said. “I’m talking about the Inspector. He caught me as I was leaving the Mayfield’s, and tried to stop me. I realized that if I was caught, I’d end up in prison, and I’d done so much to avoid being taken to prison. I hadn’t even taken anything. I tried to explain this to the Inspector, but he would not listen. He just tried to grab me and drag me down to the police station.”
He lifted a trembling hand to his face, which he rubbed nervously.
“I…I’m still not sure how it happened. One moment he was standing there, yelling at me. Then he whirled away, dragging me along behind him. Next thing I knew, a shard of glass from the window was in my hand, slicing into my fingers as I jabbed it into him in order to make him release me. I…I couldn’t stop. I just kept striking him, over and over, until his screaming stopped…”
His hand fell to his side, and for a moment, he himself looked like nothing more than a corpse standing there.
“…But the screaming never stopped,” he said. “It’s always in my head, ringing over and over again. No matter what I do, I can’t silence it – ”
He pressed his palms flat against either side of his head as if he meant to pop it like a grape, his face long, his eyes growing wild.
“It was over so fast, and before I even had a chance to regret it, he was gone.”
My head pounded, and my mouth had gone dry.
It was his fault Sam was gone. And yet, I couldn’t find it in me to be as angry as I expected to be. He was just a child, after all. Barely out of his youth…and now with this awful deed hanging over him –
A flash of silver caught my attention, down near Arthur’s hip.
A thin knife had been pulled from his pocket. Something sharp enough to cut through bone and sinew.
“I know your screams will haunt me, too…” he said, taking a step toward me. “But I can’t have you running back to the police with everything I’ve just told you. What would I do then? How would I go on?”
The knife glinted as he lifted it higher, and for a moment, it was as if I could feel its sting across my flesh.
A shadow appeared behind Arthur, tall and hulking, and before I could open my mouth to warn him, hands stretched out of the darkness and wrapped around Arthur’s throat.
14
I let out a cry as the hands wrapped around Arthur yanked him backward into the shadows.
Fear washed over me as the sound of scuffling reached me, of two men grunting and wrestling.
What if it’s a robber? Or another criminal? Here I am, entirely defenseless –
I had no choice. I had to make a run for it.
I charged toward the southern side of the tower, where the only staircase leading up to the roof was located. I had to get away before either of them could reach me. I had the confession I needed, all I had to do was make it back to the station and tell Sergeant Newton –
I heard a sickening cry from behind me, and chanced a look over my shoulder. The larger man had grabbed Arthur by the back of his shirt, lifting him as easily as if he were a doll, and thrown him out of the shadows. I watched in horror as the screaming young man flew over the roof’s edge and plunged over the side of the tower.
As Arthur fell out of my sight, a gasp stole all the breath from my lungs.
Silence followed, a long, deafening silence.
How many heartbeats did he have
left? One? Perhaps two?
Then I heard the thud as he struck the bottom, landing among the broken stones of the crumbling tower.
I sank down to my knees, terror welling up inside of me like a vice around my heart.
He…he was just here. He was never supposed to die. I didn’t want him to die!
My eyes fell upon the man who had killed him…and my fear warped into some sort of twisted fascination.
For a brief, utterly insane moment, I thought it might be Sam, given his build and height, and his dark hair. But it only took me a fraction of a heartbeat to realize that no, it wasn’t Sam, but he was certainly a man that I recognized.
I got to my feet, my knees shaky as I gawked at the back of his head.
A moment later, he turned around, and my knees threatened to give way beneath me once again.
It had been seven months since I’d seen his face, and yet, it came back to me as clearly as if I’d seen him yesterday. That scar over his right eye was still there, partially obscured by his full, dark brows. His nose, slightly bent from being broken more than once, and his high cheekbones, all were exactly as I remembered.
But it was his gaze, which latched onto me like a magnet, that drew the tears to my eyes.
“Roger…” I breathed, and without hesitating, ran forward toward him, my arms outstretched.
Every frantic heartbeat that passed as I hurried toward him sent fear through me. What if this wasn’t real? What if I was hallucinating it all, imagining him standing there before me?
It wasn’t a dream, though.
I threw myself into his arms, which he wrapped around me without hesitation.
And then I cried. I cried so hard and for so long that I lost the ability to stand. I clung to him, dug my fingernails into his back, fearing that if I blinked, if I released my iron grip on him for even a moment, that he’d vanish and I would never see him again.
