Margaret fingered the iron boot scraper at her side and steadied her breathing. She curled her fingers around the iron before swinging it upward with all her might. The unwieldy cast iron implement struck Eloise on the side of the head, knocking her over. Margaret pulled herself from under and scrambled to her feet. She ignored the pain, but was unable to push past the weakness of her body. She fought the need to close her eyes and used the wall to hold herself upright as she went for the kitchen.
The kitchen was the only lighted room in the house, other than Jonas’s bedroom, but Mrs. Crane was nowhere to be seen. A large, unlabeled bottle sat uncorked at the kitchen table with a tumbler at its side. Margaret looked to the doorknob and found no lock. She pulled one of the chairs from the table and wedged it against the doorknob and listened. She heard nothing in the hall and thought for a moment that maybe she had successfully knocked Eloise unconscious.
She breathed a sigh of relief before the doorknob began to shake violently. A resounding thud rang out as something heavy hit the other side of the door. And then hit it again. And again.
Margaret backed away. She circled the table, looking for anything that could help her but found nothing. The butcher’s block was empty, the sink as well.
The chair at the door moved with the third pounding and Margaret began searching for the door to the back of the house. There was a darkened archway and three steps down to a landing with a door to the outside, a closet, and more stairs to the cellar.
Margaret leaned on the wall again to support herself, taking each step carefully, hissing from the pain in her ankle. Before she reached the landing she felt a hand at her hair, tugging her backward. In desperation, Margaret grabbed for the doorknob but somehow she had been turned around and ended up opening the closet. Mrs. Crane stared back at her, eyes wide, sweating and gasping for breath against the fabric that was used to gag her mouth.
But Margaret couldn’t help her. With a viselike grip, Eloise guided her back up the steps to the kitchen, knocking a mop from its place along the wall. Eloise deposited Margaret beside the table on the floor. From her position on the floor, Margaret saw a stream of blood trickling down the side of Eloise’s face where she had hit her.
“I’ve made you a little drink,” she said, straddling Margaret, who tried to crawl away. She held Margaret’s chin up with one hand and brought the glass down from the table with the other. “This ought to take care of our little problem.”
Margaret’s sense of urgency doubled. Was she intending to harm the baby? Margaret wriggled and pushed against the weight of her captor as the glass came closer to her mouth.
“No!” she screamed. She managed to get a hand free from under her and began pulling at Eloise’s arm and then she knocked the glass out of her hand. The shards of glass burst outward upon impact with the floor, sending the clear liquid splashing all over. Margaret reached for the mop and used the handle to jab Eloise in the chest.
The woman gasped and tried to grab hold of the wooden handle. Margaret turned it horizontal and used it to keep her attacker at bay. She could feel the shards of glass cutting into her as she backed away, sliding across the kitchen floor a few feet before being able to use the wall to brace herself. With a quick twist, Margaret brought the mop handle upright and hit Eloise on the cheek. Eloise fell over, clutching her face, and Margaret gathered herself from the floor. The glass that clung to the fabric of her nightgown and folds of her skin cascaded to the kitchen floor.
Margaret was tired of running. She knew Eloise would just keep chasing her. She wasn’t just protecting herself anymore. She was protecting the life of the tiny being inside her. Her baby. Jonas’s baby.
With a renewed sense of determination, Margaret brought the end of the mop handle in front of her and thrust it into Eloise’s ribs. The impact sent Eloise to the floor again, crying out in pain. Then Margaret hit her again. And again. A sudden burst of anger took over Margaret as she watched the woman who wanted to kill her baby trying to crawl away from the onslaught.
Margaret grabbed one of Mrs. Crane’s aprons hanging on a hook next to her. She could still hear the poor housekeeper’s muffled screams through her gag. The fabric ripped easily in Margaret’s hands. Once she was sure she had enough, she pushed Eloise’s body over with the heel of her foot. Eloise looked up horrified as Margaret stood over her, her newly formed rope in her grasp.
“Give me one more minute, Mrs. Crane,” Margaret said to the muffled screams coming from the landing. “I’m nearly finished.”
Chapter 33
Ezra led Ainsley, Jonas, and John up three flights of stairs to a maintenance hatch with an iron ladder fastened to the wall.
“He’s up there,” Ezra said, pointing to the opening in the ceiling.
Ainsley and Jonas exchanged glances, both equally unsure if they should proceed. Ainsley half expected Giles to be riddled with guilt for the deed he had done. The other half knew that if someone were as cunning as to manipulate evidence of a murder they were just as cunning to manipulate an emergency. By the time Ainsley had made up his mind not to go, John was already climbing toward the night sky. It was too late to stop him and they couldn’t expect him to go alone.
Jonas paused at the bottom of the ladder and looked to Ainsley. After a moment of thought, Ainsley gave a nod. They couldn’t let a man like Giles get away with framing Jonas and then killing himself. They needed to put the pieces together enough so Jonas could clear his name.
A cold, Scottish wind whipped across their faces as they left the shelter of the building. Once Ainsley reached the flat portion of the roof he realized Giles was nowhere to be seen. A wide chimney with five stovepipes jutted up alongside where the roof peaked and connected to the other, newer section of the building.
“He’s not here,” Jonas proclaimed after surveying their landing.
John rushed to the edge and looked over the knee-high wall that signalled the end of the roof. Jonas did the same on the other side. He gave a shake of his head to Ainsley with a look of worry on his face.
“We should go,” Ainsley said, turning to the hatch.
Before they reached it, Giles appeared on the ladder. He produced a small handgun, black and shiny in the moonlight, pointing it at them with a determined purpose. “Don’t move another inch,” he said, abruptly repositioning the barrel of the gun at Ainsley.
Ainsley put his hands up in front of him and slowly backed away. He knew enough to bide his time and wait for the right moment if he ever expected to overpower a man with a gun.
“What is this, Giles?” Jonas asked, yelling against the wind that threatened to put icicles on their noses.
Giles tilted his head toward Ezra. “He did a good job, didn’t he? He actually convinced you that I was preparing to take me own life.” He gave an amused laugh. “He knew it was me all along, didn’t you, Ezra?” He stretched out his arm to point the gun at Ezra. “He was the one who convinced Jonas and John to go drinking that night. He knew exactly which pub to take you to.”
Ainsley’s eyes darted to Jonas. “Your drink,” he said quietly.
“That’s right.” Giles smiled. He looked far too pleased with himself. “Do either of you gentlemen know where I procured such a concoction?” When no immediate answer came, Giles took a step forward. “I’ll give you a hint. The woman who made it is quite talented, as you well know.” His smug smile faded. “Who am I speaking of, Jonas?”
“Miss Locke,” Ainsley answered quickly in an effort to save Jonas from having to say it.
“That’s right. I doubt she would have given it to me had I explained to her my true intentions for it. She is quite smitten, you know. She’d do anything for one of your housemates.”
Jonas’s expression remained unchanged, but Ainsley could tell a seething anger boiled just below the surface. He had known Jonas long enough to know the calculations that were quickly being performed in his head.
“How’s Lady Margaret, Peter? Is she well?”
Ain
sley stiffened at the mention of his sister. “She’s on the mend.”
“That’s a pity. I would hate to have to do something to set back her progress.”
His hands balled into fists, Jonas stepped to Giles, but Ainsley raised an arm to keep him back.
“You wouldn’t dare touch her,” Jonas growled over Ainsley’s shoulder.
With a slight shake in his hand, Giles raised the gun higher as if to remind everyone who was in charge. “You’re right,” he said, “Perhaps I’ll leave that to Eloise. I’m fairly certain she’s already devising a brilliant way to take out her greatest competition. I won’t need to lift a finger.”
Ainsley felt Jonas pushing on his hands. “I swear to God, Peter, let me go.” His voice was low but his words were strong.
“Don’t play into him,” Ainsley cautioned quietly. “He’s trying to bait you.”
“What’s that you are saying, Peter? Speak up so the rest of the class can hear,” Giles said.
Ainsley felt Jonas relax somewhat and decided to step aside. He raised his hands again in a submissive gesture toward Giles.
“I’m so sorry, Jonas,” Ezra said from a few feet away. “I didn’t know what he intended to do and once I realized the part I played I couldn’t stop it, not without …” Ezra’s voice trailed off in doubt.
“Not without exposing his deepest, ugliest secret,” Giles said. “A few weeks ago, I caught him fondling the breasts of a patient.”
All eyes turned to Ezra, who looked abashed and ashamed.
“She was dead,” Giles added before chuckling at the shock on Ezra’s face.
“Stop,” Ezra growled through gritted teeth.
Giles raised his shoulders in a shrug. “You didn’t actually expect me to keep my promise once we got to this point, did you? A woman died and this man, who hasn’t bedded a girl in his life, took it upon himself to get acquainted with the opposite sex.”
“Stop it!”
Ainsley saw a pool of tears glistening in Ezra’s eyes. He had been coerced, that much was clear. The young professor could not afford any such blight on his record or stain on his character.
Ezra took tiny steps toward Ainsley and John, brushing tears from his eyes. “He made me do it,” Ezra said, openly crying now. His shoulders shuddered and he nearly doubled over. “He was going to tell on me. I have a perfect record. He was going to take away my perfect record. What would I have said—?”
BANG!
Ezra’s knees buckled and he dropped to the ground. His weeping was replaced by a look of despondent disbelief. A circle of blood appeared on his chest as his body involuntarily writhed in agony. Jonas, John, and Ainsley moved toward him. Giles let John pass him, but then turned the gun toward Jonas and Ainsley. “Not another inch.”
A moan escaped Ezra on the ground. He wasn’t dead yet.
“He’s dying!” John yelled from his place at Ezra’s side.
“Use your research. Grow him another heart or lung or whatever it is I hit,” Giles answered mockingly. “Years wasted in the laboratory for what? You can’t even save your friend.”
“You took an oath, Giles!” Ainsley reminded him. “Do no harm!”
Giles squinted at him, titling his head to the side as if confused. “I can’t seem to recall. Refresh my memory, Peter. I was never a very good pupil.”
Ainsley said nothing. He kept his gaze unwavering and his stance strong.
A muted chuckle escaped Giles as he looked over his two hostages. “You remember those late nights when you both tried to help me with my studies? I just never could understand why the subjects came more easily for you than they did for me. Do you want to know what helped me in the end? It wasn’t late-night studying, I’ll confess to that.”
Ainsley and Jonas waited as Giles paced, circling around them with the gun pointed at them.
“Frobisher. He and I came to an arrangement. He wanted to help me … if I helped him with one minor life detail.”
“He wasn’t attracted to his wife.” Ainsley said the words and knew instantly what it meant. Giles had been Frobisher’s lover.
“That’s right. She had money and he didn’t. Her family connected him to other important people and so began a career of prestige and worth. They don’t knight random surgeons, even ones who save the lives of important people in parliament.” He gave a marked look of disdain to Jonas. “Frobisher couldn’t bring himself to, you know, consummate, you could say. Twenty years married and no children. Why do you think that was?” Giles smiled. “It wasn’t her fault. He couldn’t bring himself to do it and I don’t blame him.”
“Is that why you killed him?” Ainsley asked.
“In part. I loved him, but he refused to leave his dove of a wife. After months spent begging him and then threatening to expose him he tried to rid himself of me. But that was the last thing I would ever let happen.”
Ainsley saw a hint of remorse in Giles’s eyes as he spoke.
“What are you going to do? Kill us all? Here? Like this?” Jonas asked.
If Giles came a few inches closer, Ainsley could have grabbed for the gun and would have gladly risked getting shot if it meant Jonas and John could leave unscathed.
But Giles did not come closer. He kept a perfect distance from both Ainsley and Jonas and offered little concern for John, who was still panicking over the state of Ezra. His stance may have been flawless, but his eyes betrayed his lack of confidence.
“I’ve been thinking of this for the last few days when I realized the charges were most likely going to be dropped. You weren’t supposed to be here, Peter. Jonas was supposed to be put on trial and hang.”
“My apologies.”
“Always the hero, aren’t you?” His face hardened as his gaze fell on Jonas. “Although I appreciate the sentiment of Peter’s loyalty, I can’t risk having you live. This is the way it’s going to happen, in a fit of rage you kill them all and then, seeing what you did, you jump.”
Ainsley forced a laugh. “You think anyone will believe that? I have a Scotland Yard detective looking into this right now. The charade won’t last long once he hears of my death, I can assure you of that.”
Giles’s confidence waned. His eyes went between Ainsley and Jonas. “I can’t let him live,” he said, as if trying to convince Ainsley. “He’s a pariah, don’t you see, Peter? He’s going to take away everything you and I have worked so hard for.”
Ainsley didn’t bother to hide his confusion. “How? How can what he does affect you or I?”
Giles shook his head. “So intelligent, yet so blind—”
“You filed the complaint against me,” Jonas said. “It wasn’t Frobisher.”
“He would have agreed with everything I wrote.”
“But he didn’t even know about it because he was already dead by that time.” Ainsley could feel the pieces coming together. During an argument, Giles stabbed Professor Frobisher, killing him, and hid the body until he could file the complaint, bribe Rebecca, and stage the scene. He made a few more wounds to make it appear as if Jonas had done it in Frobisher’s office that night.
“Why me?” Jonas asked through gritted teeth. He pointed a finger at the ground. “You owe me an answer—”
“I owe you NOTHING!” Giles screamed. “God, you two are so alike. Conceited. Arrogant. Not deserving of anything providence has given you. I was not surprised in the slightest when Peter told us he was heir to a great fortune. Did you know, Peter, did you know we all took bets in school to see who could find out who your patron was and whether or not you were fucking her for your fees?” A tiny laugh escaped him. “Then we all heard about little Margaret. Beautiful, smart, aspiring doctor Margaret.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ainsley saw Jonas stiffen at the mention of her.
“Don’t you see? We can’t have her at this school, or anyone like her. Women aren’t suited. They don’t have the temperament. Their minds aren’t as strong. Their stomachs are even worse.” Giles regarded Jonas with disgust
. “The way you talk about them you’d think we should just give them degrees for walking through the doors.”
“That’s not what I said,” Jonas answered.
“You don’t have to say it. I know you and all the other men like you. Women get what they want because you all want to get them in your beds. I had to fight for my degree and you …” Giles marched toward him. “You would have them taking classes, attending lectures, and acting like men.” He took Jonas up by the collar, with the gun still in his grasp. “When I needed someone to frame for Frobisher’s murder you were the most natural choice I could make. One less woman to worry about.”
Jonas raised his arms to push Giles from him and knocked him to the ground. The gun skidded across the surface of the roof and came to a rest at the short wall. By the time Ainsley reached the gun Jonas was on top of Giles, holding him up by his shirt and punching him in the face. After only a few hits Giles’s nose was covered in blood and so was Jonas’s hand.
“Jonas, stop!” With the gun safely in his possession, Ainsley ran back to Jonas and tried to pull him away.
“You took my life away from me!” Jonas yelled as he fought Ainsley’s attempt to break them apart. Jonas tried to land another punch but missed. Then he turned on Ainsley, pushing him away and doubling his efforts to get at Giles. Before he could reach him Ainsley cocked the gun and pointed it right at Jonas.
“I told you to stop!”
Jonas straightened his stance as Giles moaned in pain on the ground, covering his face with his hands. “You wouldn’t kill me, Peter,” Jonas said.
“I would shoot you in the arm to keep you from the gallows,” Ainsley said. “I’m warning you, though, my aim isn’t that great.”
“I think Ezra’s dead!” John yelled from the other side of the roof.
Jonas closed his eyes at the news and then both he and Ainsley turned their attention to their friend. Ainsley came alongside Ezra and laid the gun down on the ground before reaching for a pulse. He didn’t need to get too close, however, to see that John was right. Ezra had lost too much blood.
Shadows of Madness Page 25
