Beyond the Grave

by C. J. Archer

  "The committee would not want you to be involved," he said, setting off again.

  "Since when do you tell them everything?"

  He grunted. "I wasn't going to. I was just pointing out that if you want to help, they are not to find out."

  "We'll be sure to swear the others to secrecy then." I smiled and almost felt bold enough to slip my hand inside the crook of his arm. Almost.

  We reached the courtyard before I thought of another question. "How did the committee members find out that I'd raised Estelle Pearson's ghost?"

  "I don't know, but it's something I've been trying to work out since their arrival."

  "You didn't tell them?"

  "Of course not."

  "But no one else knew. I saw one groundsman as I left the cemetery, and a coach or two passed by as I walked home, but that's all."

  "Did you recognize any of the coaches?"

  "No, but I wasn't really looking. I was too distracted."

  "Was the groundsman the one with the birthmark?"

  "I couldn't tell."

  "I wouldn't put it past them to each have spies planted over the city, including the cemetery, particularly since you came to live here."

  "Why do they need spies?"

  "To gather information for ministry business, and to be made aware of potential supernaturals for me to investigate."

  "If it's ministry business, why not tell you who their spies are? Why keep their networks a secret, rather than incorporating them into your own and making the ministry even more powerful?"

  "That, Charlie, is a good question." He pushed open the back door and ordered Seth and Gus to join us for tea in the parlor.

  Ten minutes later, Lincoln told the two men what had happened. I kept my hot face lowered, so I didn't see their reactions, but their weighty silence felt like a noose around my neck, condemning me. It served as a good reminder that no matter how lenient Lincoln had been, I was still guilty of disobeying orders and endangering lives.

  "Our priority now is to find Estelle Pearson," Lincoln said. "Once Charlie has sent her back, we'll resume the search for Buchanan."

  Gus held the delicate teacup between both hands, not even attempting to fit his stubby fingers through the handle. "Can't be too hard to find a walkin' corpse."

  "Try parliament." Seth lifted his teacup in salute when Gus laughed.

  I giggled with relief that they could make jokes about it. "I think once we find Estelle, we'll know where to search for Buchanan," I said.

  "You're convinced her name meant something to him?" Seth asked.

  "I am. She promised she'd give me answers about Lord Harcourt. She said she had a tale to tell, and it's likely her tale has something to do with Buchanan's disappearance."

  "Why should we believe her? She could have said that so you would take her to her body."

  "I'm certain she was telling the truth. The name certainly meant something to her. Her reaction when I mentioned Lord Harcourt was telling."

  Gus twisted the cup in his hands and studied the liquid. "No disrespect to your instincts, Charlie, but I don't think we can trust a dead woman. She ain't got nothin' to lose."

  "She's the only hope we have at the moment," I said, a little miffed that he wasn't on my side.

  "I believe you." Lincoln surprised me with his conviction when Seth and Gus seemed to lack it. "But if she's acting dangerously, we have to send her back before she can harm anyone. Public safety, as well as our own, is paramount."

  "Yes, but it won't hurt to ask her for her story first."

  He arched his brows. "Did you not just say you will do only as I instruct?"

  I bit my tongue. It wouldn't do to argue with him so soon after making up, but I felt my instincts should account for something. I'd met Estelle Pearson—they hadn't—and I didn't think her a bad person. She could have hurt me, but she hadn’t.

  "Problem is," Gus said, "how do we send her back? If Charlie can't force her, and if she don't want to go…"

  "We restrain her and remove her from the public," Lincoln said. "As to the rest, we'll simply have to find her weakness."

  "But she's bloody strong!"

  "A different sort of weakness. Almost everyone has a loved one."

  Oh my god! He meant to threaten to harm her loved ones if she didn't comply. The notion made my stomach roll. I set down my teacup. "Do you think we'll find her with one of her loved ones?"

  "Perhaps." Lincoln gathered up the riding coat he'd slung over the chair arm. "But it's just as likely that she's gone to the place where she worked and died. We'll begin at the hospital."

  * * *

  Queen Charlotte's Hospital for Lying-In was located in Marylebone Road, behind a low brick fence topped with iron spires. The five-story utilitarian red-brick building was hardly a pretty sight for expectant mothers but at least it offered a place for poor women to get the care they needed during childbirth.

  Gus acted as coachman, and remained with the horses and carriage, while Seth and I went in through the front door, where a nurse greeted us from behind a desk in the sparse reception room. Lincoln had already disappeared around the back of the hospital, where he would sneak in. He wouldn't tell us what he was going to do, once inside. I had a suspicion that he didn't know himself, but I didn't say as much to Seth as I took his arm like a happily married woman.

  "Good morning," I said, smiling at the nurse. "I do hope you can help us. We are Mr. and Mrs. Guilford."

  Seth tensed beneath my hand. Had I done the wrong thing using his real name?

  "How may I help you, sir, madam?" Her crisp tone reminded me of Estelle's, but this woman was younger and her features not as pinched as the spirit's.

  "Our housekeeper's niece was a patient here, some six months ago," Seth said cheerfully. "She received excellent care and her boy is now thriving after a difficult, er, time of it."

  Good lord, could he not say "delivery" or "birth?" Being brought up to be polite and avoid immodest words might set the upper classes apart from the lower but such politeness and avoidance became a little ridiculous at times. Particularly with a man who'd had to make his way by bare knuckle fighting.

  "Our housekeeper mentioned a certain midwife had been wonderful throughout the delivery." I squeezed Seth's arm as he tensed again. "Since our housekeeper is dear to us, and her niece dear to her, we wanted to show the family's appreciation by giving the midwife a token of our gratitude."

  The nurse's face brightened, and I knew what to expect next. "How very generous of you. Do you know, the patient sounds familiar. I recall a young woman who gave birth to a boy around six months ago, and she said her aunt kept house for a lovely family. What did you say was the patient's name?"

  "Perhaps it was you she was referring to," I said with pleasure in my voice to match hers. "Only you seem too young. The nurse's name is Miss Pearson."

  Her face fell. "Oh. No, I am not her." Clearly she didn't think she could lie her way through to the end. "Miss Pearson, you say. That's very unfortunate."

  "Why?"

  "She died."

  I turned to Seth and placed a hand to my chest. "Oh my. Oh, that's quite, quite awful."

  Seth patted my hand and frowned deeply. Then he turned his full attention on the nurse, smiled sympathetically and reached for her hand. "How tragic for you and her other colleagues here at the hospital. How did it happen?"

  If I were the nurse I would have been immediately alerted that something wasn't right by his abrupt question, but she seemed not to notice. She was far too busy falling into Seth's beautiful eyes. He certainly had a way with women.

  "She hit her head, down in the basement supply room."

  "Hit her head?" he echoed. I was content to leave the questioning up to him since I suspected my interruption would be unwelcome and cause the nurse to close up. He was doing a marvelous job without my assistance. "How? Was she alone?"

  "One of the doctors was with her. He witnessed the entire thing. He said she simply collapsed. He tr
ied to revive her, but she lost too much blood from the head wound. The coroner later found that she had a weak heart that gave out on her and caused her to fall unconscious."

  "I see. What a tragedy."

  "Very much so. Miss Pearson was well liked here, and she was extremely dedicated and clever." She leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Much cleverer than some of the doctors, including Dr. Merton who was with her." She sounded quite pleased about that fact, then her eyes grew sad again. "She's a loss to the hospital. A real loss. If only we'd known she had a heart problem, we would have urged her to take on lighter duties. But she never breathed a word."

  A thought took hold and wouldn't let go. A rather sinister thought.

  "Do doctors usually go down to the supply room?" I asked. "I thought fetching supplies would be a nurse's job."

  "It is." She busied herself with some papers on her desk.

  "And yet Dr. Merton was there."

  "Yes." The crisp tone had returned, along with a flattening of her lips.

  I nudged Seth. If anyone could get her saying more it was him, if he used his charms correctly.

  But before he could take her hand again, another nurse bustled up. "Have you seen Dr. Merton this morning?" she asked the midwife on the desk. "He's supposed to have begun his rounds but no one's seen him."

  "Have you checked his office?"

  "I knocked but there was no answer." She wrinkled her nose. "I suppose I should try again."

  The nurses exchanged grim looks then the newcomer bustled off.

  "Excuse me," I said to the desk nurse. "I think I'd like to speak to this Dr. Merton." I hurried after the disappearing midwife, dragging Seth with me.

  "You can't go through there!" the desk nurse called. "Staff and patients only."

  "We'll just be a moment. I'm sure your colleague will show us to his office. There'll be a generous donation given to the hospital when we learn which doctor delivered my housekeeper's baby!"

  "Housekeeper's niece's baby," Seth muttered as we rushed through the door and caught up to the other midwife. "Keep up."

  The nurse eyed us curiously but didn't order us to return to the reception room. It would seem the words "generous donation" had worked their magic.

  "I'm glad for your company," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Very glad."

  We followed her through a ward lined with beds on either side. Each one was occupied by a heavily pregnant woman, some moaning, others lying on their sides, and one who was clearly about to give birth, if her groans were an indication. A doctor and two nurses attended her, and they were obviously about to inspect her down there. Beside me, Seth went white and slowed down, gawping at the scene. I grabbed his hand and pulled him along just as the poor woman let out another low groan.

  "Are you all right?" I asked him. "Are you going to be sick?"

  He swallowed and wiped his brow with his handkerchief. "I think I'll manage."

  I patted his arm. "You've been very brave, dear. Well done."

  He blanched at my sarcasm. "Thank you, dear. I do hope you're taking notes for when we are as blessed as these patients. I'm sure it won't be long before you find yourself in one of those beds, as large as a whale yet somehow still radiant."

  "Oh, I won't be confined here. Our marriage bed will do nicely."

  He pulled a face, but at least he had his color back.

  We followed the nurse along a corridor, her stiff skirts snapping at her ankles with each step, up three flights of stairs then into another corridor with several doors leading off it. She asked the nurses, orderlies, and doctor we passed if they'd seen Dr. Merton, but none had for some time.

  "Excuse me," she called out to an orderly dressed in an ill-fitting brown jacket and trousers. He had his back to us and paused with his hand on a door handle. His shoulder-length black hair was tied back in a leather strip.

  Lincoln.

  He turned to her. He did not look at Seth or me, and he didn't seem at all surprised to see us there. If he was, he was good at hiding it. I wasn't quite so adept. My eyes bulged, but I managed to suppress my gasp before it left my lips. The nurse didn't notice.

  "Yes, miss?" Lincoln asked.

  "Have you just come from Dr. Merton's office?"

  "Is this his office?" He indicated the closed door. "Only I'm new here, and I was sent up to fetch him." His accent placed him directly in London's east end, not at all from Highgate.

  "It is," the nurse said. "I've not seen you before. You must be new."

  "Just started today, miss."

  "And they sent you looking for the doctor alone?" She clicked her tongue then eyed the door with wariness that didn't sit well on her. She'd been energetic and brisk up to this point, but now she hesitated.

  I came up close behind her. "Shall we go in?" It was more a question for Lincoln than her, but it was the nurse who answered.

  "Of course. There's no reason to delay."

  "Let me go in first," Lincoln said.

  If the nurse thought his offer odd, she didn't say so. She seemed quite happy to have him open the door. What was she expecting? Her willingness to have Seth and me along, her strange behavior now that she was outside Dr. Merton's office…something was wrong.

  Lincoln opened the door and blocked the entrance with his body. None of us could see past him, not even Seth.

  "Is he there?" the nurse asked.

  Lincoln backed out and shut the door. "No."

  She blew out a long breath. "So the search continues. Where could he have gone?"

  Lincoln's gaze met mine. I didn't need to be told that all was not right in Dr. Merton's office. The simple fact that he had an interest in Dr. Merton too was enough to make me think I'd been right to be suspicious about the doctor being in the basement with Estelle Pearson when she died.

  The nurse headed off again but paused a few steps away. "Are you coming, sir, madam?"

  "If it's all right with you, my wife and I will wait for Dr. Merton in his office," Seth said. "Please tell him we're here when you find him."

  "Of course." She cast another glance at Lincoln, smiled prettily, then bustled away.

  "What's going on?" I asked when she was out of earshot.

  "We've found Estelle Pearson," he said.

  "Thank goodness. Is she in there?" I felt a weight lift off my chest. I could breathe again.

  He nodded. "She is. Crouched beside the dead body of Dr. Merton."

  Chapter 7

  The office smelled like a ten-day old ham had been left in it. Estelle Pearson must have been inside for some time. She squatted on the floor beside the body of the man I assumed was Dr. Merton. Her flaky, bloodless lips moved as if she spoke, yet no sound came out. Perhaps she was praying for his soul. Or hers.

  I took a step toward her, but Lincoln's hand flashed out and caught my arm. He had closed the door, leaving Seth outside to keep watch.

  "Miss Pearson?" I said. "Are you all right?" Perhaps it was an odd thing to say to a corpse, but she didn't seem at all like the woman I'd met during the night. She looked dazed and the hand that clutched her throat shook.

  "Will I pay for this, do you think?" she asked, her voice sounding far away.

  I followed her gaze from the feet of Dr. Merton, over his deep barrel chest to his neck. A large purplish bruise formed above his collar, shaped like fingers. I felt the blood drain from my head as if a plug had been pulled. I swayed and Lincoln slipped his arm around my waist.

  "Wait outside," he said.

  I shook my head and rallied. I drew in a deep breath and felt the blood returning, my nerves settling, and my head clear. "I did this. I must stay and do what I can to fix it."

  "You did not do that."

  Estelle Pearson's head jerked as if I'd slapped her. "He's right, Miss Holloway. This is not your fault. It's mine and mine alone. I killed him. I will face the consequences."

  "Consequences?"

  She lifted her gaze ceiling-ward. And that's when I saw it.

&
nbsp; Dr. Merton's spirit.

  The white mist clung to the corner as if he were trying to get as far away from Estelle as possible. His huge eyes flicked between his body and hers, trying to fathom what had happened. He didn't see me staring at him.

  "We should go," I said. There wasn't a thing the spirit could do to us now but I would feel better if I couldn't see his shock and the slowly dawning horror at his demise.

  Lincoln pulled out a length of rope from beneath his jacket. One end was tied into a loop with an impressive looking knot. Was he going to capture her and tie her up?

  "There is no need for that," she said, her hand out to placate Lincoln as if he were a maddened animal. "I'll come with you and return to my grave. I've finished my business here." She cast another glance at Dr. Merton's body. "He'll not harm anyone again."

  The spirit twisted and twirled like a pile of leaves caught in a whirling breeze. Then he suddenly whooshed down from the ceiling, straight at Estelle. "You bitch!" he cried. "You raving, maniacal bitch! You killed me!" He crashed into her.

  And came out the other side. She'd not felt a thing and didn't bat an eyelash. In her reanimated form, it would seem other spirits were invisible to her. She glanced around the room, as if she suspected his spirit was there somewhere, listening, and one side of her mouth lifted in a bitter, gruesome grin.

  "Do you hear me, you monster? You can't hurt anyone now."

  He swished around the room, dashing up to the ceiling, down to the floor, left and right, shouting vile words I'd not heard since leaving the slums two months ago. He seemed unaware that I could hear him, and I had no intention of telling him.

  "Enjoy your afterlife in hell, doctor." Estelle picked a hat off the floor. It must have come off during a scuffle with the doctor. It wasn't the same hat she'd been buried in, but had a wider brim to cover her face. She also wore a long coat over her dress. "Perhaps we'll meet there, if my actions today outweigh all the good I did in life. If so, it will still have been worth it." She rose. Her knees creaked and cracked, as if her bones were grinding together. "We should go before someone returns. I don't want anyone accused of this."