“All that trouble and we’ve found absolutely nothing incriminating.” He shoved the paper into his pocket. “Come on, we should go.”
They walked in dejected silence toward the Wren Library cloisters.
Kate sighed. “I really thought we had something.”
“Keep your voice down,” he whispered.
“Who’s there?”
Asher halted abruptly, pulling Kate behind him. They had turned the corner and were mere yards from the ornamental gate that led to the Backs, but now two men in dinner jackets blocked their path—the same academics they’d encountered before. Judging by their hostile expressions, they’d sobered considerably during the last hour.
“How did you get in?” the stout one barked.
“I’ll get the porter this instant,” his companion said. “Dixon should ring the police. It seems we have a pair of thieves in our midst.”
Asher pulled his hat low over his eyes and did his best to slump like a villain. He didn’t remember meeting these two during his time with Marshall, but one couldn’t be too careful. Should he reprise the story of impressing his lady friend? Appeal to their manly sensibilities? They’d seemed more interested in fictional ladies than flesh-and-blood ones. And how could he make such a confession without dragging Marshall into it?
Kate poked his back. “We can outrun them,” she whispered.
He considered the gentlemen’s bulging midsections, made even more prominent by their stiffly boiled shirts. And there was the gate with its open padlock benignly hanging to the side.
“Asher!” Kate hissed.
He squeezed her arm. “Run now. I’m right behind you.”
Chapter 37
“I want to know why you are here.” Simon’s eyes were steely. “Are you … dead?”
“No,” Elsie whispered. “This is where I go when the dead speak to me.”
He looked about him, peering into the darkness. “Have you seen her? Is Amy here?”
“Is that why you did this? To be with her?”
Simon looked behind him, searching the darkness. “Amy, why won’t you show yourself?” He turned wild eyes to Elsie. “Where is she? You told me she was with me always. I thought you saw her that day at the British.”
She shook her head. “Spirits move on. I barely understand it myself.”
Elsie glanced at Tec. He kept to the shadows, his face stricken. Simon did not seem to see him, so she braced herself for the next question. “How did she die, Simon?”
A shadow came over his face. “She took her own life. Her husband was insane, but she couldn’t leave him. I loved her so purely. In the end it was still too much for her to bear.”
“You chose this out of grief, because you wanted to join her in eternity?”
“No. I don’t want to die—I just want to open a channel to her.” Desperation contorted his features. “Why can’t I see her?”
Before she could answer, Simon convulsed again, and she was falling … falling back to the hard floor of the old laboratory.
Head pounding, Elsie opened her eyes to see Tec lifting the wires from Simon’s chest and helping him to sit upright. Simon coughed and gasped, clutching Tec’s shoulder until his breathing calmed. Elsie watched mutely as he ran his hands over his chest, his face, and through his hair. He turned to Tec.
“It wasn’t enough time, you fool. I couldn’t find her!”
Elsie pushed herself up to her knees. “What have you done?”
“It seems that I’ve failed,” he said softly.
“But … you’re alive. How?”
“The same jolt that stopped my heart restarted it. It’s as simple as that.” He eased himself off the table and stepped toward her, offering his hand. “Why are you so shocked? You listened closely to our conversation at the Thompsons’ dinner table. When you told me of your gift, I knew I was ready to take the risk.”
“It’s not a gift, Simon.” Ignoring his hand, she shakily rose to her feet. “It’s a curse.”
“Do you know how long I’ve worked to achieve what you gained through sheer accident? I tried everything to bridge the divide between life and death—meditation, mesmerism, even mind-altering narcotics.” He sighed. “And I’ve tested the abilities of every known psychic in England. They’re all frauds. None of them could find Amy for me. But Marshall … he was onto something with his notion of the subliminal self. He’d found anecdotal evidence of people gaining new abilities after a brush with death. But he was too damned obstinate. He wouldn’t experiment on himself or anyone else, not after Stanton died. So … I had to do it myself.”
Elsie shook her head again, this time in disbelief. “How could you be so sure you would come back from death, Simon? How could you take such a risk?”
“I took a risk, yes. But not without testing.” He gestured at the equipment. “I learned from Stanton’s failings and Marshall’s research. It took years to find the right method.” He paused to lift one of the wires that had been attached to his chest. “The proper voltage and timing were determined through great sacrifice. Undergoing the process myself seemed the only way to honor those sacrifices.”
Sacrifices.
Elsie’s stomach convulsed. “Billy?”
“The boy was willing enough. So was Tec, for that matter. And I was willing to pay them quite handsomely for their efforts. They knew the risks.”
She glanced at Tec. His expression was eerily blank, but something lurked behind his eyes. Elsie turned to Simon. “But I saw Tec in the dark between.”
Simon blinked. “Where?”
“You and I met in a dark place after your heart stopped. I call it the dark between, and yesterday I spoke with Tec there. I thought he was dead, but here he is, and now he can’t seem to speak at all. Something is terribly wrong with him. I hardly know how to make sense of it, but a part of him has died.”
Simon studied the boy. “There’s no denying he is altered. Doors to his subliminal mind have opened, just as Marshall theorized. The boy shows signs of telekinesis, but his supraliminal mind is somehow atrophied, or perhaps it’s still striving to reconcile this transformation.”
“How can you be so detached? Look at him. Look at what you’ve done! He’s barely human anymore.”
“Elsie, help me find Amy.” Simon stepped closer. “Together we could reach her.”
She flinched. “You can’t ask me to do that.”
“You told me once that you loved me.”
He did not touch her, but Elsie could feel his desperation clouding her own mind, and it nearly took her breath away.
“I must reach Amy,” he continued. “She was everything that was pure and beautiful in my life, and I failed her. I was selfish and petulant. I must make amends, and you can help me.”
Somehow he was in her head—not merely his voice but a tangible sense of his urgency. As she stumbled back he moved with her, taking her face in his hands. Tec stood close behind him, his expression still blank.
Simon’s thumbs caressed her cheeks. “You could free me, Elsie.”
She searched his eyes and thought she saw a glint of fear … or was it madness? He’d killed an old man and a child, and he’d damaged Tec beyond repair. Only a monster could imagine these crimes as something necessary or heroic. What other facts had he twisted in his mind?
Could she trust anything he said?
“Simon … did you kill Amy?”
The color drained from his face. “Of course not.”
“How can I believe you?”
Her heart leapt as his hands slipped down her cheeks to encircle her neck. “I blame myself for her death, I admit that,” he said, “but I never touched her.” His eyes filled with tears as his thumbs pressed the hollow of her throat. “Help me, Elsie.”
“No,” she whispered. If she gave in, he would surely silence her afterward. She looked to Tec. “Are you going to let him get away with this? He murdered Billy—your friend!”
Tec blinked.
“Hush, E
lsie,” Simon murmured. The pressure on her throat intensified.
“Billy was a child,” she cried. “This wasn’t some venture that turned out badly. He didn’t know the risks he was taking. He couldn’t know. I spoke to his spirit, Tec. He didn’t even understand he was dead. All he wanted was to find you—he trusted you.”
Tec’s face contorted, and as it did, sparks flew from the wires attached to the curious cylinder behind him.
Simon shifted his grip to her waist and pulled her close. “Don’t listen to her,” he said to Tec. “I didn’t murder Billy. He was an unfortunate casualty of our research, but an accident nonetheless. Now, we must get her out of here—and quietly.”
Elsie’s mind grappled wildly for another distraction. She stared at Tec, and it came to her. Kate. The poor girl had loved him. Had he returned her feelings?
“What about Kate, Tec?”
The wires sparked again, stronger this time. She searched the boy’s slack face. Tec couldn’t speak, but his mind vented emotion in other ways. She glanced toward the induction coil. It sat near a window … quite near the curtains.
“Elsie, we have to leave this building. Come with me to the Continent.”
Simon’s voice snapped her back to attention. She kept her eyes trained on Tec. “Kate is in danger. Billy found evidence of Simon’s intentions to use innocent people for his experiments—he hid that evidence in your house. Kate read every word. She knows what he’s done. If you don’t stop him, she will be his next victim.”
The apparatus wires flailed wildly as more sparks showered the room. Specimen jars and vials on nearby shelves began to shake.
“Calm yourself, Tec.” Simon spoke soothingly, but Elsie could feel his heart pounding wildly. “We are surrounded by flammable liquids.”
He can’t control the boy. Hope fluttered in her chest as she appealed again to Tec. “You know he’s going to kill us both and leave England entirely.”
As Tec’s eyes widened, two of the trembling jars tipped over and rolled off the shelf. Elsie heard the crash of glass on the stone floor, and the acrid scent of formaldehyde filled the air.
“Quiet, Elsie!” Simon’s voice was husky with panic. “I won’t hurt anyone. We must leave this place before Tec burns it down.”
“Tec,” she said in a low, steady voice. “Stop him. Otherwise you and I will both die here. And then he’ll go after Kate.” She looked him straight in the eye, willing him to remember the life he’d once had. “I can help you, Tec. I’ll do everything I can to make you whole again … and take you back to Kate.”
As Tec returned her stare, his lower lip began to quiver. In one swift motion he pulled Simon’s hands from her waist and shoved him hard. Simon stumbled back, careening into a shelf that sent more jars crashing to the floor. Sparks erupted from the apparatus, and suddenly the room was bright with flames that snaked up the nearby curtains. Simon crawled toward the boy, grabbing for his ankles as though to topple him.
Simon looked up at her, his eyes wide with panic. “Elsie, run!”
Elsie stumbled toward the door through the heat and horrible brightness. There was a strange silence, then a deafening bang and whoosh of air. Her body slammed against the wall and she sank into darkness.
Chapter 38
As her feet pounded the graveled avenue toward the Queen’s Road gate, Kate’s heart and lungs pulsed in agony. Her breath swelled and knotted in her throat. She couldn’t run like this much longer—something inside her felt ready to explode.
“Don’t stop at the gate!” Asher shouted.
“They can’t still be following!”
“I don’t care. Keep running until we reach Clare College.”
She ran on, the stitch in her side threatening to break her in half. Finally, mercifully, she lurched into the safety of the Clare College garden, collapsing into the grass and thinking what a blessing it would be to lose consciousness.
“Kate! Are you hurt?”
She coughed into the grass, too choked to speak. Asher knelt beside her, waiting until her spasms eased before he turned her body over and laid his fingers on her throat.
“Your pulse is racing,” he said, “but I think you may live. Is anything broken?”
She wiggled her extremities. “Only my spirit?”
Asher smoothed her hair from her eyes. Then he shifted his body to lie next to her, his head propped on an elbow. After searching her face for a moment, he laughed softly.
Kate squirmed. “What? Is there mud on my face?”
“No, no. It’s just …” Asher pulled a piece of grass from her hair. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Kate.”
His eyes were so wide and wondering that Kate blushed and looked away.
Asher flopped onto his back. “I’m ruined for Trinity now.”
“Dr. Marshall said he’d see you in the fall, didn’t he?” she gasped, still trying to catch her breath. “I think our little caper made quite an impression.”
He gave her a sidelong glance. “No doubt he found me quite dull before. But now he thinks I’m a rake, and that you’re the sort of girl who breaks into college rooms to ruin herself.”
“Who says I’m not?”
“Don’t provoke me, Kate. Not now.”
“I’m not trying to provoke you,” she said gently. “We never could have predicted he’d come from London like that, and yet you managed to get us out of there quite nicely.”
“At the cost of ten years from my life. Has my hair turned grey?”
She could only giggle.
They lay quietly a few more moments, the silence deepening. With it came a sobering thought. “We still don’t know who killed Billy and Tec.”
Asher sat up. “We’re not done yet,” he said briskly. “We’ve eliminated one possibility. Tomorrow we’ll take another look at the suspects.”
Once they’d stood and brushed the grass from their clothes, they walked along Queen’s Road toward Summerfield, each of them too preoccupied with yawning to speak. Kate didn’t mind the silence, for it was a companionable one. They may have been misguided in their belief about Marshall’s evildoings, and she’d led Asher into a ridiculous scheme that had nearly cost him his place at Trinity. But they’d stolen their way into one of the finest colleges in Cambridge, and once caught, had talked their way out of trouble. She couldn’t help thinking Billy and Tec would have been proud of their detective work.
And there was that look in Asher’s eyes as they’d lain in the grass. Amusement had flickered there, but she’d also seen approval. Fondness, even?
Was she having sentimental feelings for Asher? The boy hopelessly besotted with Elsie? She wrinkled her nose. Any hankerings in that direction needed to be quashed immediately. After all, what had her tender feelings for Tec brought her? Nothing more than confusion and pain. She should have learned by now that the entire business of love was outright foolishness and a waste of time.
And yet …
The warm glow continued until they crossed the Silver Street Bridge and a sharp odor tickled her nostrils.
“Asher, do you smell smoke?”
They paused on Summerfield Walk.
“I do.”
Kate shivered as a clanging sounded in the distance. “The fire brigade?”
“Come on,” said Asher, quickening his pace.
When they neared the gate, Kate saw the flames flickering in the distance through the ironwork. Her heart leapt as Asher broke into a run. She followed him to the unlocked gate, scrambling through after him. He paused in front of Summerfield Hall, gasping for breath.
“It’s the old lab,” Kate said.
He turned to her, his expression dire. “Go to the Gatehouse and make sure Elsie is safe.”
“No,” she said, her back stiffening. “I’m coming with you.”
He gripped her shoulders. “Then stay behind me, and for God’s sake be careful.”
They tore across the lawn toward the lab. Jagged tongues of fire flicked through the wind
ows, and smoke clouded the building, choking the air. When they drew near enough to feel the heat, Asher jerked her back. “Don’t go any closer. There’s glass everywhere. The windows must have blown out.”
“How could that happen?” she asked, her throat thickened by the smoke.
“An explosion. There’s no other explanation.” He covered his mouth with his cap. “Chemicals were stored there, weren’t they? We should go back to the house, Kate—this smoke is choking me.”
Kate stepped back, raising a hand to shield her face from the heat of the flames. The light from the sitting room shone through the window of the Gatehouse. Would Elsie have come out to see what happened, or would she have had the sense to stay safely inside? Perhaps she had been the one to telephone the fire brigade.
As she glanced back at Asher, something at the perimeter of her gaze caught her attention. Turning, she saw a pale shape in the grass. She stepped closer, panic flooding through her as she saw the shape for what it was—a body. A prone form in a long dress, arms and legs splayed.
And golden hair sticking to a face covered in blood.
Chapter 39
Asher’s body ached with weariness as he sat in Oliver Thompson’s study. Mr. Thompson leaned against his desk, looking far worse than Asher felt. He couldn’t help staring at the old man’s hands as he spoke, for they trembled so pathetically.
“I come home,” said Thompson, “to find one of the college buildings burned—its contents utterly destroyed—and now I’ve just heard Millie’s confession that you and Miss Poole were away from Summerfield when she went to bed.”
Asher’s heart jerked in his chest.
“I can’t fathom why you would leave the Gatehouse in the dark of night,” Thompson continued. “What could possibly have prompted such a foolish action?”
“Well … Miss Poole craved some fresh air, and it wasn’t terribly late—”
“Do not pull the wool over my eyes, Mr. Beale. The truth, if you please!”
“Sir, are you certain you don’t wish to sit?”
Mr. Thompson submitted to a coughing fit, glaring at Asher all the while. Once recovered, he leaned against his desk almost defiantly. “I’m fine. Now, were you and Kate in the old lab when the fire broke out? Did you mess about with the equipment?”
The Dark Between Page 26
