The Hangman's Secret
Page 30
“Then, yes! I’ll marry you.”
We sit holding hands, basking in bliss. Before we can discuss announcing our engagement or work out the practical details of our marriage, Hugh comes home and wanders into the parlor. We jump to our feet.
“I should go to the police station and get ready to start my new duties,” Barrett says.
We kiss goodbye, self-conscious because it’s the first time we’ve done so in front of Hugh. But Hugh doesn’t notice. He collapses on the chaise longue and lies staring at the ceiling as Barrett leaves. I perch on the sofa, eager to know what happened but afraid to ask.
“Tristan told his father about us,” Hugh says. “It didn’t come as a surprise to Sir Gerald. He already knew.”
“Because Malcolm Cross told him?”
“No. Cross did tell him, but Sir Gerald knew long before that. He didn’t say how he found us out, but he must have had spies watching Tristan.”
“Oh.” I’m not surprised to hear that Sir Gerald keeps tabs on his son; I’m surprised that he let Tristan’s affair with Hugh go on without objecting.
“He’s not exactly thrilled, but he’s a practical man. Tristan also told him that he’s quitting the priesthood, which is what Sir Gerald has always wanted. He’ll take it even though it’s been served to him on a dirty platter.” Hugh grins.
“So he’s willing to tolerate your relationship?”
“As long as we’re discreet. He wants to be on good terms with Tristan and hopes to convince him to join the Mariner business. Tristan isn’t against it. He’ll need an occupation when he leaves the church. And oh, by the way—Sir Gerald told Malcolm Cross that if he exposes us, he’ll wind up in jail for the Amelia Carlisle hoax as well as obstructing justice, and when he gets out, Sir Gerald will make sure he never works for another newspaper.”
I think it’s a safe bet that Cross will keep his mouth shut. “How about a drink to celebrate?” I rummage in the liquor cabinet and find a bottle of champagne that I forgot to bring out after I accepted Barrett’s proposal.
Hugh rises. “I’m going to see if I can get Mick to join us. A little bubbly should raise his spirits.” He bounds up the stairs, whistling happily.
When they come, I’ll tell them that Barrett and I are engaged. I sit watching the fire crackle and glow, thinking over recent events and tallying what went wrong and what turned out right. I’m glad that one investigation was successful, but unfinished business disturbs my tranquility. Lucas Zehnpfennig and my father are mysteries that I can see no way of solving.
The past is biding its time, coiled around its secrets like a hibernating serpent, waiting to strike when I’m least prepared.
EPILOGUE
On the fourteenth of March, Barrett, Sally, and I ride in a cab through a fog that smells of verdant earth and chimes with birdsong. Our mood is somber; no one feels like making conversation. Yesterday Barrett told Sally and me that he’d found Lucas Zehnpfennig, but this isn’t how we had hoped the search would end.
Out of the fog materializes a tall stone portal—a large arch flanked by two smaller ones, surmounted by a cross. Their black iron gates stand open, and we ride in through the middle entrance, along a quiet, empty road, beneath trees whose branches are hazy green with new foliage. Crocuses and daffodils bloom in the grass around rows of tombstones. Ghostly stone angels spread their wings, clasp their hands in prayer, or weep over graves. This is the City of London Cemetery. When we reach an area of small, modest gravestones, Barrett tells the driver to stop. Fresh, dewy spring air veils us as we climb out of the cab. Our footsteps squish the damp ground as Barrett leads Sally and me to a gravestone that’s far from the road.
“Here he is,” Barrett says.
The gravestone is a plain, rectangular slab, crusted with lichen and green with moss, its base covered by dead weeds. I can barely see the inscription: “Lucas Zehnpfennig, 1840–1880.” By a cruel trick of fate, his ultimate destiny caught up with him before I could.
“When I couldn’t find any trace of him in town, I checked the death records,” Barrett says. “He was easy to find because he has an unusual name at the end of the alphabet.”
Sally crouches by the grave and lays down the small bouquet of lilies she brought. She has a kind heart, and Lucas is my blood kin, no matter what he’s done.
“How did he die?” I say.
“He was run over by a train,” Barrett says.
I briefly close my eyes against the vision of an oncoming train, the whistle blaring, a shadowy figure of a man standing on the tracks, and the violent impact. No matter that I believe Lucas murdered Ellen Casey and my father took the blame, it’s a terrible way to die. And I’m sorry he’s dead, for he was my last link to my father.
“How did it happen?” Sally asks.
“I wish I could tell you,” Barrett says. “The police record says it was a foggy night. The man driving the train didn’t see anything before it hit Lucas. And no witnesses came forward.”
We’ve reached a literal dead end in the search for Lucas, but my father is still at large, and my investigation of the hangman’s murder taught me that there are many paths to the truth. This moment, this grave, has just opened up another path of inquiry.
“We’ll get to the bottom of it all.” My voice has the weight of a promise, an oath. I stand shoulder to shoulder with Sally. We’ll walk the path together, and when we finally catch up to our father, he can stop running from the past, and Sally and I will find resolution if not peace of mind.
ALSO AVAILABLE BY LAURA JOH ROWLAND
The Victorian Mysteries
A Mortal Likeness
The Ripper’s Shadow
The Sano Ichirō Mysteries
The Iris Fan
The Shogun’s Daughter
The Incense Game
The Ronin’s Mistress
The Cloud Pavilion
The Fire Kimono
The Snow Empress
Red Chrysanthemum
The Assassin’s Touch
The Perfumed Sleeve
The Dragon King’s Palace
The Pillow Book of Lady Wisteria
Black Lotus
The Samurai’s Wife
The Concubine’s Tattoo
The Way of the Traitor
Bundori
Shinjū
The Secret Adventures of Charlotte Brontë
Bedlam
The Secret Adventures of Charlotte Brontë
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY
Laura Joh Rowland is the bestselling author of the samurai detective Sano Ichiro mystery series set in 17th century Japan, as well as a historical suspense series starring Charlotte Bronte. Her work has been published in 21 countries; nominated for the Anthony Award, the Hammett Prize, and the Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers Award; won RT Magazine’s Reader’s Choice Award; and been included in the Wall Street Journal’s list of the five best historical mystery novels. Laura holds a Bachelor of Science and a Master of Public Health degree from the University of Michigan. She is a former aerospace scientist, a painter, and a cartoonist. She lives in New York City with her husband Marty.
This is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, organizations, places and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real or actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2019 by Laura Joh Rowland
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Crooked Lane Books, an imprint of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.
Crooked Lane Books and its logo are trademarks of The Quick Brown Fox & Company LLC.
Library of Congress Catalog-in-Publication data available upon request.
ISBN (hardcover): 978-1-68331-902-3
ISBN (ePub): 978-1-68331-903-0
ISBN (ePDF): 978-1-68331-904-7
Cover design by Melanie Sun
Book design by Jennifer Canz
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Printed in the United States.
www.crookedlanebooks.com
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First Edition: February 2019
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