Asher’s chest swelled a bit. “Well …”
“Kate feels very strongly about this,” Elsie continued. “If we learn something, I want you to be there to witness it. Can you please set aside your skepticism … just one more time?”
Asher thought for a moment, but he couldn’t manufacture a reasonable excuse. In truth, he’d lain awake a long time the previous night, his thoughts alternating between Philip Marshall’s theories of the subliminal self and Simon Wakeham’s intimate glances at Elsie. She seemed eager to share all the details of her visions with the latter gentleman. Surely it was better for her to explore them under his watch, rather than that of Mr. Wakeham.
“Well?” Kate’s eyes flashed with impatience.
He ignored her, turning to Elsie instead. “How will you explain this to Mrs. Thompson?”
“We made a plan already. You tell her that you wish to attend a service at Trinity College Chapel, and Kate and I will chime in that we wish to go, too.”
“But what if the Thompsons wish to join us?”
“I doubt they will,” said Elsie. “Mama told me they’ve not been to church for years. I think Aunt Helena might even be an atheist.”
“So?” Kate raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming with us or not?”
He looked from her to Elsie, unsettled by the force of their enthusiasm. “Seems I have little choice. I’ll go with you as long as the Thompsons give permission.”
And, indeed, the Thompsons took kindly to the idea. Mr. Thompson beamed as his wife gushed over their “blossoming friendship,” but Asher suspected they were more pleased simply to have a quiet morning to themselves.
Shortly after breakfast Asher led the way to Trinity College Chapel. Having toured it previously, he took the time to point out the statues and tombs in the antechapel. He then steered them into stalls close to the organ to avoid crossing in front of others when they made their early exit. They sat through two hymns and the first reading before Kate tugged at his sleeve and nodded toward the door.
“Such a lovely chapel,” Elsie murmured as they walked away. “And nearly everyone wearing surplices. They looked angelic in their white gowns, didn’t they?” She turned to Kate. “What if Aunt Helena asks about the sermon?”
“We’ll have to make something up,” said Kate. “Let’s walk quickly, please.”
Asher felt a sinking in his stomach as she led them along increasingly filthy streets, lined with increasingly shabby cottages, until she paused before one in desperate need of fresh whitewash and a window cleaning.
“This is it.” Kate stepped forward to pound on the door, which opened on its own. “It’s not bolted,” she said, pushing the door open wide. “Tec?”
No answer came from within.
“Who is this Tec person again?” Asher asked warily.
“He’s my friend,” Kate said. “You know—the one who managed the little detectives.”
“Ah yes, the young spies and thieves.” He watched Elsie walk about the room, not touching anything. He didn’t blame her. The furniture and the quilts piled in the corner were tattered and grimy. He chuckled at the incongruous sight of an ornate vase sitting high on a shelf. The blue-and-white pattern was familiar. “Did your little detectives steal that as well?” he asked, pointing to it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s Wedgwood.”
Kate shook her head. “One of the boys found it in a rubbish bin, with a crack and chip on one side. Tec thought it so grand that he built that shelf to show off its good side.” She lifted her chin. “And I wouldn’t call the boys thieves. If one has thrown papers or fancy vases into the rubbish bin, is it really thievery when another fishes them out?”
“Your Billy was one of these little … detectives?”
“He was the best,” said Kate. She reached for a leather bundle on the table. “Tec shouldn’t have left this sitting out.”
“What is it?” Asher asked.
“His tools.”
“What sort of tools?”
Kate ran her fingers along the scarred leather. “They’re for picking locks,” she said quietly. “Anyone could come in and pinch them when they’re left out like this. It’s not like Tec to be so careless.”
Asher studied her as she untied the bundle and inspected the thin implements. She seemed to have forgotten about Elsie in her concern for this Tec fellow. How could she care so much about a boy who lived in filth and ran such a seedy enterprise?
In that moment her eyes lifted to meet his. She rolled the bundle and retied it, glaring back at him. “What?”
“What?”
She lifted an eyebrow and shoved the bundle back into the table’s small drawer. When she turned to Elsie, her eyes widened. “That’s exactly where Billy used to sit, Elsie. Last night I could see him there so plainly, almost as though I were having a vision.” Her mouth dropped open. “Elsie?”
Asher’s eyes followed Kate’s in time to see Elsie rest her fingers on a chair by the potbellied stove. His heart lurched as she began to convulse.
Elsie clenched her teeth to keep from crying out when she felt the tug of darkness and cold. She was falling into that darkness—the dark between—but knowing what was happening didn’t make it any less unsettling. Eyes shut, she prayed for the spinning in her head and stomach to stop.
When the pulling sensation finally ceased, she slowly opened her eyes. She stood next to a chair, upon which sat a boy wearing a smart jacket and full-length trousers. He stared at the stove. She could see nothing but the boy in the chair and the stove—the rest was darkness. The boy did not raise his face to her, nor did he speak.
What should she do? In the past, the spirit had spoken first. She’d never initiated the encounter. “Hello?” she asked tentatively, bracing herself.
The boy looked up. He was hollow-eyed and pale as alabaster, but nothing like the wraith that had once been her grandmother. There was no menace to him. He just looked like an underfed boy who happened to be staring at her in confusion.
“Who are you?” he asked. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Elsie.”
He looked past her. “Where is everyone?”
“Who are you looking for?”
He frowned. “Why, Tec, of course. And the other lads. They’re usually here.”
The poor creature didn’t yet know. She willed herself to smile. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon. What happened to you, Billy?”
He blinked. “How do you know my name?”
“Kate told me all about you.” She took a breath and gentled her tone. “Please tell me what happened.”
“You friends with Katie? Well, that’s all right, then.”
“Somebody hurt you, didn’t they, Billy?”
“Oh, that.” He rubbed a bruise on his jaw absently. “He caught me in the study pilfering his letters from that Stanton fellow. I waited until the wee hours, but he weren’t asleep like I thought.”
“What’s his name, Billy?”
He frowned. “Why do you want to know that?”
She sensed him pulling away. “Never mind. Did he beat you?”
“Nah, just smacked my face. Said he’d turn me in to the police unless I did him a favor.”
“What sort of favor?”
The boy sighed. “He wanted information.”
Elsie struggled to keep her voice even. “How curious. What information did he seek?”
Billy stared into the distance, shaking his head. “Curious ain’t the half of it. He wanted a tramp from Castle End—a useless drunk—for an experiment that would improve him. All I had to do was give a name and tell him where to find the old waster.”
“An experiment that would improve a tramp? What does that mean?”
“I had an idea.” He glanced at her. “I found him a proper tramp all right. That’s easy enough in Castle End. But I’d read through the gentleman’s papers, you see. It put a scheme to my mind, so I stole a few pages—you know, the ones that seemed important. I hid those papers in
a special place and searched out the gentleman after the séance.”
“How clever. What did he say?” she prompted.
“Thought he’d be angry, but he just asked me to sit and offered me a drink, all friendly-like.” He frowned, his hand moving to his chest.
“What is it? What did he do?”
“I remember feeling sleepy … and then, when I started to wake up, I was in a different place. There was a pain in my heart, like I’d been stabbed.”
“The gentleman stabbed you? Who was it?”
He tilted his head. “You sure ask a lot of questions. Are you thinking to get in on my scheme?”
“Not at all. It’s just … I’m only …” She struggled for a proper response. “Kate is worried about you, Billy. If she could be here, asking these questions herself, she would. I need to know what to tell her.”
After a moment he nodded. “All I meant was that it felt like I’d been stabbed, but there was no blood.” His brow wrinkled. “It were funny what happened then. I saw myself. I saw the man standing over me, and my own body shaking and jerking. It were … horrible.” He shook his head sadly. “I need to find those papers, and then I must find Tec. Can’t sit here talking to you.”
“No, wait—tell me the name of this man!”
But already she was falling again into darkness.
When the dizziness finally eased and she opened her eyes, Kate’s blurry face crowded her vision. Elsie blinked and squirmed. “You needn’t get so close—it’s hard to breathe.”
“How is she?” Asher’s voice came from behind her.
Kate backed away. “Are you awake now? Can you sit up?”
“I think so.” Elsie grasped the hands Kate offered, allowing the girl to pull her upright. Her head was clear, but a thudding ache threatened to clamp around her temples.
“We shouldn’t stay here much longer,” said Asher, stepping into view.
Kate’s grip on her hands tightened. “What did you see, Elsie?”
“I saw Billy.”
“Did he speak to you?”
Elsie stared at her. “I talked to him for a long time. Did you … I mean, could you hear any of it? Did you hear me, at least?”
Kate shook her head. “You were in a trance. Your mouth didn’t even move.”
“How odd. I’ve always wondered, ever since the spell my mother witnessed.” Elsie tried to smile. “Billy said he was looking for Tec. He asked me where everyone was.”
Kate leaned closer. “Did you ask him how he died? It was murder, wasn’t it?”
Elsie closed her eyes again, thinking back through their strange exchange. “He said he was caught in the act of stealing letters from a gentleman’s study. The man told him he’d turn him in to the police if he didn’t do him a favor.” She looked at Kate. “He wanted Billy to find him a tramp.”
Kate’s eyes widened. “A what?”
Elsie repeated the details Billy had given. “The gentleman wanted a drunkard for an experiment that would improve him.”
“An experiment to improve a drunkard?”
“That’s what I gathered,” said Elsie.
“Who was this gentleman?” Kate asked.
Elsie shook her head. “Billy never said. I tried to get the name, but he slipped away. He seemed distracted—said he needed to find Tec.”
Kate frowned. “Perhaps he doesn’t know he’s dead?”
Elsie’s head began to throb in earnest. She reached for her bag and fumbled inside for the bottle. When she found it she pulled out the stopper and raised it to her lips.
“Oh, Elsie—not too much or we’ll never get you home.”
Elsie nodded at Kate and took one swallow. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deeply until the nausea eased and the thudding pain softened to a dull tapping.
“Last time you felt better after your seizure,” said Asher softly.
She’d almost forgotten he was there. “Something’s different,” she said. “I provoked this vision, and it’s by far the longest I’ve had. Maybe I stayed too long? I’m not certain.”
Kate touched her arm lightly. “Do you think you can stand now? Can you walk?”
“I certainly don’t wish to stay here any longer.”
They each came to her side, placing their hands under her elbows and slowly raising her to her feet. She stood still, taking more deep breaths to steady herself, and nodded.
“Just a short walk back to Summerfield and you can rest,” murmured Asher, his expression gentle.
Elsie smiled, for they were trying their best to be kind. Even Asher was curbing his usual skepticism, or at least being polite enough to keep it to himself for the moment. The Chlorodyne had soothed her aches and tremors, but it hadn’t sorted the tangle of her nerves. How much of the dose would it take to wash away the memory of Billy’s pitiful face as he searched the darkness for Tec?
Chapter 20
Asher couldn’t help admiring Elsie’s determination as they made their way along Queen’s Road. She had a great deal more pluck than he’d thought. But he still puzzled over her episode in Castle End. He didn’t doubt the reality of her seizures. Never had. It was her interpretation of the visions that provoked his skepticism. The details were always a little too vague. Hints rather than facts. It seemed that a spirit could never give a direct answer to a simple question.
But why would she fabricate this tale of a tramp and an improving experiment?
“Oh,” Elsie breathed, her chin lifting. “It’s him.”
He followed her gaze to find Philip Marshall and Simon Wakeham walking their way. The very sight of Wakeham made his heart plunge.
Dr. Marshall’s eyes widened when he recognized them, and he quickly removed his hat. “Good morning, ladies.” He nodded at Asher. “Mr. Beale.”
“Mr. Wakeham and Dr. Marshall, how good to see you,” Elsie said softly. “You’ve not yet made the acquaintance of our friend.” She cleared her throat and turned to Kate. “Miss Poole, allow me to introduce Dr. Philip Marshall, a Fellow at Trinity College, and Mr. Simon Wakeham, a recent Trinity graduate … and a member of the Metaphysical Society.”
Kate’s cheeks flushed a deep red. She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to choke on the words. Asher looked from her to Simon Wakeham, who frowned down at her.
“Ah,” said Wakeham, his features relaxing. “I think I’ve already met your friend. You were the one at Martineau’s, weren’t you? The spirit apparition?”
Kate hung her head. “Yes.”
“Strange sort of work for a young girl,” Dr. Marshall said, studying Kate with a raised eyebrow.
“I was only trying to make a living after my mum died.”
“You need not explain.” Wakeham smiled. “We wouldn’t hold you accountable for Martineau’s deceptions. I suppose softhearted Thompson has taken you in? No doubt he felt guilty for disrupting your livelihood.”
Kate straightened up. “Actually, sir, I demanded he make things right for me.”
“Did you? I admire your gumption.” Wakeham turned to Elsie. “Miss Atherton, what brings you to this part of town on a Sunday morning?”
Asher wondered if he’d suddenly turned invisible.
“We’re returning from a service at Trinity,” said Elsie, her voice now steady.
Dr. Marshall glanced behind him. “But we just came from there. We are now north of Trinity.”
Elsie gulped audibly.
“What she means to say is that we stopped in for a few hymns,” said Asher, “and then walked to—”
“We walked to Castle Mound,” blurted Kate.
“Yes, we just came from Castle Mound,” said Elsie. “You see, I remember playing there when I was a little girl. I wanted to show them where the Norman castle used to be.”
“Of course—it’s by the Thompsons’ old house, which is where we were walking just now.” Wakeham smiled. “Did you enjoy your ramble? More entertaining than a chapel service?”
Elsie started to reply, but Asher cut he
r off. “It was fine. Unfortunately, Miss Atherton has taken ill, so we must return to Summerfield.”
“I am improving,” said Elsie, returning Wakeham’s smile.
“Please, allow me to help.” Without waiting for an answer, Wakeham extended his arm to Elsie.
Asher thought the man gave him a reproving look as he tucked Elsie’s hand around his arm, and he didn’t like it. “We don’t wish to keep you from your business,” he protested weakly.
“No trouble at all, I assure you,” said Wakeham.
They formed an odd group as they walked together, Wakeham and Kate on either side of Elsie, and Asher bringing up the rear with Dr. Marshall. The trio ahead of him chatted pleasantly, but every time Elsie smiled at Simon Wakeham, Asher felt his heart pinch.
“Are you weary yet, Mr. Beale, of being cooped up in that stronghold of lady intellectuals?” Dr. Marshall grinned. “Even Mr. Thompson is a bit of an old hen. You must come to Trinity this week—there are gentlemen to whom I wish to introduce you.”
“I should be most grateful,” said Asher, keeping his eyes on Elsie. If she continued to look at Wakeham that way, he might go directly to Trinity with the good doctor that afternoon.
Wakeham turned. “Can you believe they’ve not been out on the Cam yet, Philip?”
“I’ve only been here a week,” said Elsie. “And I wasn’t allowed to go when I was a child.”
Kate sighed. “I’ve lived here all my life but never boated on the river.”
“We must rectify this alarming gap in your upbringing,” said Wakeham. “Shall we all go rowing this week?”
“That’s a fine plan for an idler like you, Simon,” said Dr. Marshall, “but I have my rounds at Addenbrooke’s.”
“Do you see patients there?” asked Asher.
“Not exactly, but I do assist another doctor with a … unique … sort of therapy. I’d be pleased if you would come see our work—perhaps later this week?”
“Ah well, that leaves me to do all the rowing,” said Wakeham. “Unless Mr. Beale would agree to take an oar rather than visit a musty old hospital?”
At first Wakeham’s challenge seemed kindly meant, but then Asher wondered if the young man was baiting him. Trying to make a fool of him, no doubt. “I’m mightily tempted by Dr. Marshall’s offer,” he said.
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