Prayers for the Dying

by Tracy L. Ward

  Thaddeus sauntered toward Ainsley, unfastening the buttons at his sleeve and folding them up inch by inch. Before he could reach Ainsley’s chair, Ainsley stood up and met him eye to eye.

  “Will he look the other way, you think?” Thaddeus asked, his face hardened and eyes focused. “Will Julia?”

  Ainsley snatched him up by the collar and pulled him close. “What have you done to her?” he yelled.

  “She’s dead, as far as I’m concerned, and I hope to God she stays that way, or I’ll kill her myself.” Thaddeus pushed up on Ainsley’s wrists before delivering a powerful uppercut to Ainsley’s stomach. Ainsley landed one hit to Thaddeus’s face before the office door swung open, bouncing off the wall from the force. Stanley charged in, another man close at his heels. They easily pulled Ainsley away from their employer and forced him to his knees in front of Thaddeus.

  “I’ve given you fair warning, doctor,” Thaddeus said as he adjusted his jacket and collar. Then he appeared to reposition his gold ring, ensuring the widest part of the metal was faced outward, before ramming his fist into Ainsley’s jaw.

  Ainsley fell to the floor and could hear the men shuffling their feet over the ringing in his ears. Blood welled up in his mouth so Ainsley spat it toward Thaddeus, catching his shoe and the hem of his trousers.

  “Fuck! Get him out of here!”

  The two men pulled Ainsley to his feet and guided him from the room. In the hall Delilah was walking toward the door when Ainsley was pushed to the stairs.

  “What the devil?” she called as Stanley pushed her away.

  Ainsley barely had enough time to get to his feet before Stanley struck him in the stomach. The force sent him backward, head over heels down the stairs. When Ainsley opened his eyes he realized they had taken him outside to the courtyard. As one man held Ainsley’s arms behind him, Stanley removed his jacket and began rolling up his shirtsleeves. Ainsley glanced up to the window and saw Thaddeus and Delilah standing at the glass, watching silently.

  The first punch rocked him left, the second sent him right, and the third was delivered right to his gut.

  Of all the hits Ainsley had endured through his life these were the easiest to bear. It was clear he had failed Julia. He had failed to gain enough trust so that she could tell him who was after her. And he had failed at protecting her from the monster of her nightmares. Ainsley welcomed the pain of each hit and hoped he’d black out soon so he’d never have to know when it was all over.

  Chapter 17

  “Release him!” An older woman appeared beside them.

  Ainsley’s vision was streaked with blood, but he could see her white form rushing toward them.

  “For God’s sake, I said release him!”

  The ground rose to hit Ainsley on the side of the face, the impact sending a ricochet of tremors through his body. He couldn’t recall how many times he had been hit. Somewhere inside him he had begged for it not to stop. If Julia was dead by the hands of that man, or soon would be, they would do well to kill him.

  He could feel himself being shuffled into a carriage, his body discarded on the bench. Seconds later, he felt the conveyance begin to roll from one side to the next as the carriage left the courtyard. When he opened his eyes he saw the older woman seated opposite him. He recognized her but could not recall from where. Her eyes were fixated on something beyond the window. With blurred vision he saw her twirling something in her hand.

  “You only have yourself to blame, doctor,” she said, without bothering to look at him. “He would have killed you.”

  Ainsley tried to say something, the words clear in his mind, but the sounds that escaped his mouth were incoherent.

  The woman didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was trained on the scenes that played out just beyond the window. “My son nearly died as a baby,” she said, swallowing hard and fighting back tears. “We had so little back then there was scarcely enough for any of us to eat and he was already so tiny.” She closed her eyes. “I suppose my guilt made me overindulge him and made him into something callous.” Her chin trembled and Ainsley could hear her crying. “But he was still my son.”

  With only one good eye, Ainsley saw the woman pull a handkerchief from her sleeve and use it to dab her eyes. She finally looked over at him and leaned in close, as if looking over his wounds.

  “You are very fortunate,” she said, pulling back some of his hair, which had fallen over his face. “Like I said, he would have killed you.”

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked, aware that his voice was muffled by the velvet cushions of the bench.

  She turned her head to look at him. “Because you were nice to me.”

  The next time Ainsley opened his eyes he was face down on his morgue floor, the cold stone soothing the pain in his jaw.

  “Wait,” he called out, trying to move. “Wait, what’s your name?”

  But he was alone and the woman was long gone. The drumming in his head grew louder as he tried to pull himself to his feet. Another minute of rest, he told himself. You need just one more minute.

  Ainsley started awake when he realized he was on his back, in one of the hospital’s metal cots.

  “Finally!” came a familiar voice beside his bed. “I was just about to give up on you.” Simms looked completely unimpressed by Ainsley’s current state. “It’s been two hours since Sam found you out cold.”

  Ainsley pushed himself higher on the bed, clenching against the soreness that resonated through his body. His head in particular felt heavy and swollen.

  “Do you mind telling me what happened? I don’t believe it was one of your patients.”

  “There was a woman,” Ainsley said, wincing at the hollow echo his voice made in his head. He looked about, perhaps expecting to see her nearby. Simms was seated in a standard hospital chair, with one leg crossed and his pocket-sized notebook opened to a middle page. The space around them had a curtain partition that blocked the bed and a small radius from the rest of the hospital ward. Beyond, Ainsley could hear moaning from some of the other patients, as well as shuffling beneath the starched bed sheets. A gaslight overhead gave a small ring of light over them, but did little to give their surroundings definition.

  “What woman?” Simms asked, poised to take notes.

  “A woman saved me,” Ainsley said, still somewhat confused. “Sam found me?”

  “Yes. Now who was the woman?” he pressed.

  Ainsley shook his head. “I don’t know. I never got her name. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t keep my eyes open long enough to get a good look.” He pulled on his jaw to force his ear to clear and then wished he hadn’t.

  “The doctor said you are very lucky your jaw isn’t broken.” Simms leaned in to take in Ainsley’s wounds.

  Ainsley raised his hand and felt a large lump on the left side of his face. The skin there felt rough, almost scaly, but the heat that radiated surprised him the most. He could have lied. Part of him feared telling Simms the truth about his current state. He could have easily told him he’d taken on a bet in the boxing ring and lost miserably. However, that kind of behaviour would only reinforce Simms’s distrust.

  “Thaddeus.”

  Simms sat up straighter. “Why on earth would you pursue him? On your own?”

  Ainsley shook his head. “I didn’t. They came for me. They forced me in their carriage and took me to his office.”

  Simms looked wholly unimpressed.

  “She had a gun.”

  “Who?”

  “Delilah. I don’t even know if that’s her real name. She’s his sister.” Ainsley raised a hand to his jaw and felt around for stitches.

  “The woman Cooper has been taking out to tea nearly every afternoon?” Simms set down his pencil and ran a hand through his hair.

  “Do you think he knows who she is?” Ainsley asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You could have warned me,” Ainsley said, feeling himself becoming more awake as the seconds passed. />
  “If you will recall, I did warn you. Thaddeus is a man I wanted you to have no contact with.”

  “You ask me to examine your dead lady, but won’t tell me anything more about the investigation. You meet me in your office to relay salacious details about the woman I love, but refuse to involve me in the search for her. I apologize for any confusion.”

  Simms sighed and folded his notebook over his pen. “I thought telling you about her marriage would help you forget about her. I had no idea it would do the exact opposite.” Simms leaned in closer and lowered his voice slightly. “Meeting you in my office was the best way to ensure we wouldn’t be overheard.” Simms suddenly looked abashed. He slid the notebook into his inside breast pocket. “I’ve long suspected someone in the unit was feeding Thaddeus information. I just never suspected it would be Cooper.”

  “Something is not right about this,” Ainsley said, raising a hand to his temple and allowing his head to sink back into the pillow.

  “We know the man in Belgravia is related to the women in the Thames,” Simms said. “All had their throats slit.”

  “But the man was put on display and the women were discarded,” Ainsley pointed out. “Unless the man was a message, like I said before.”

  “For who?”

  Ainsley lifted his head from the pillow. “Julia,” he said, closing his eyes. “I spoke with Mrs. Holliwell. She told me Julia needed a place to hide and Belgravia was the best she could do.”

  “Seems odd for your father to take on an orphaned woman. I doubt she possessed any references save for Mrs. Holliwell. And as a lady’s maid, no less.”

  “She confessed to me once that Father wanted her to keep an eye on mother and report back to him,” Ainsley said reluctantly.

  Simms raised an eyebrow. “An interloper?”

  “I don’t doubt my father has a few,” Ainsley admitted. “That’s just the type of man he was…I mean, is.” The correction was painful to make but necessary unless Ainsley wanted to admit the father he remembered was his father no longer. Thankfully, Simms didn’t mark Ainsley’s amendment.

  “So can we assume Thaddeus has been looking for Miss Kemp these past eight months?” Simms asked.

  Ainsley found himself nodding. Had he known she was a target he would have whisked her away to Kent or even encouraged her to go to Edinburgh with Jonas, anything to get her as far from the city as possible, even if it meant infrequent contact. He’d have done anything to keep her safe. Absolutely anything. If only he had known.

  “Thaddeus wanted her to know she had been found,” Ainsley said, tears burning behind his eyelids. “That’s why he made sure the body was put in a place for all to see.”

  “But how would she have known it wasn’t completely random?”

  “Saint Christopher.”

  “Pardon me?”

  Ainsley couldn’t bring himself to look at Simms and raised his hands over his face. “Our last conversation was about the miniature of Saint Christopher I found on the body in Belgravia. She had seen me place it in my pocket at the scene.”

  Simms’s face hardened at the mention of Ainsley’s mistake. “Withholding evidence and tampering with a crime scene is a criminal offence, you do know this?”

  Ainsley nodded. “I knew you’d never agree to accept my help.”

  “So you just do it anyway?” Simms’s voice rose, causing a nurse from beyond the curtain partition to hush him.

  “I’m sorry,” Ainsley whispered harshly. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Why did you not tell me this before?”

  “Truthfully, I forgot. You were so angry with me for confiscating the body, I never had the chance. I did mean to tell you,” Ainsley said. “I wanted to work this case. The man was found three houses from my front door, for God’s sake!”

  A nurse pulled apart the partition curtain and poked her head into the confined space. “Dr. Ainsley, please!”

  Ainsley recognized her instantly as the head nurse, a matronly woman known for whipping the hands of her subordinates with a metal rod she kept in her apron pocket. The hospital board recently forbid her from administering such punishments, but Ainsley had no doubt the desire still existed inside her.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Ainsley and Simms said in near unison.

  The head nurse left. A shared look between Ainsley and Simms sealed a mutual agreement to quiet down.

  “So Miss Kemp sees the Saint Christopher figure, knows it’s a warning from Thaddeus, and leaves London?” After a moment of thought, Simms spoke again. “Or she doesn’t make the connection and is snatched in the same manner as you were.”

  Ainsley shook his head. “She would have made the connection. You don’t escape a man like that and stop looking over your shoulder. Besides, Thaddeus said he hadn’t seen her since last year.”

  “So where would she run and who would she seek?”

  “She has a brother. The matron at the orphanage told me they were close. If he still lives in London, she may have gone to him.”

  “Thaddeus would certainly look for her there. That would be heading straight for the viper’s nest.”

  “But Julia would do it. I have no doubt.” Ainsley smiled in admiration of Julia’s strength. He pulled the covers off of himself and swung his legs to the side of the cot. “I have to go find her.”

  Simms pressed a firm hand into Ainsley’s chest, preventing him from getting up. “No you don’t. You rest. I’ll go see what I can find out.”

  “Mrs. Holliwell said she didn’t know where Robert Crandall lives. He could be anywhere.”

  Simms smiled. “All the more reason to rest your head and let me do the groundwork.” Simms stood just as Margaret popped her head into the partition.

  “Peter Benjamin Marshall, what sort of trouble have you found yourself in now?” She slipped inside the cramped quarters and stood at the end of the hospital bed.

  Ainsley licked his dry, swollen lips and turned away from his sister’s disapproving stare.

  Margaret pulled a folded handkerchief from her reticule and handed it to Simms. “I was able to get this impression from the Talbot’s garden,” she said, as Simms unfolded the fabric.

  He took in an audible breath when he saw the bloodstained boot impression.

  “I had given it to Peter to give to you but he forgot it in his room this morning.” She placed a hand on her hip and gave her brother a disapproving look.

  “My apologies, Margaret. I forgot.”

  Simms nodded as he carefully refolded the image back in on itself. “Thank you, Lady Margaret. This may become useful.” He turned to Ainsley as he backed away to the opening between the screens. “I’ll let you know what I find,” Simms said with a smile. He bowed his head and tipped his hat as he walked past Margaret. “Lady Margaret.”

  Once Simms had left, Margaret took his place on the metal chair and leaned in close to Ainsley’s bed. “Inspector Simms sent a message to the house. Aunt Louisa is beside herself with worry. I knew it must be something like this. What on earth happened to you?” She inspected his face with the movements of a mama bird, jerking his head from side to side to see the extent of his injuries.

  “Margaret, please stop fussing,” he said, snatching her wrist as she reached out to touch his swollen face.

  She pulled her hand away, realization coming over her. “Have you found Julia?” she asked suddenly. “Do you know where she is?”

  Ainsley shook his head. “And I’m not the only one looking for her either.” He shifted in the bed, and turned to get out the other side.

  “What do you mean?” she called after him. “Peter, what’s happening?”

  He grabbed his jacket from a hook on the wall and gingerly slipped his arms into the sleeves. “I don’t know,” he said, “but lying around in a hospital bed is not helping anyone.”

  In the carriage on the way home, Margaret looked unsettled. She kept looking to Ainsley on the opposite bench. “It will heal,” Ainsley said, ign
oring the warmth that radiated from his face.

  Margaret shook off his words of comfort. “I know,” she said. “It always seems to.”

  “Then what is it?”

  For a moment it looked as if she wouldn’t say. “I sent a message to Lord Benedict just after you left for the hospital this morning, inquiring about Vivian.”

  “And?”

  Margaret exhaled and closed her eyes. “He confirmed it. Vivian is our sister.” Her voice was even, as if resigned. The realization that their father had had an affair, even while knowing the pain such activities caused, was heart-wrenching. “He came to the house just as I was leaving and pulled me aside. I haven’t had the chance to ask him for more details.”

  “What sort of details do you expect him to give?” Ainsley asked.

  Margaret shrugged. “I don’t know. It just all seems…so out of character for Father. So seldom did he visit the island. Why, I could probably count the number of Atlantic crossings on one hand.”

  Ainsley nodded. It did seem odd. The man was devastated by his wife’s affair, even as the years passed. Ainsley doubted Lord Marshall would have even considered such an act, unless it was retaliatory.

  “Should we tell Aunt Louisa?” Margaret’s eyes shot to him. “What about Daniel?”

  “No,” Ainsley answered, shaking his head. “We wait. There’s no point in alarming them when I haven’t spoken with the girl.”

  “You will speak with her then?”

  “Yes, though perhaps not tonight,” Ainsley said. “I’m not as easy on the eyes as I was yesterday.”

  Chapter 18

  Julia pushed up the sash of Mary’s bedroom window, propping it up with a somewhat sturdy piece of wood, scavenged from a broken crate in the other room. Drops of rain peppered the outside of the window as Julia stood there, looking down on the alley below. She stretched out her hand, catching a few droplets in her palm, and then brought them to her mouth. It was a tradition she and her brother had done as children, slurping rain from their hands, the tastiest water to be had. Julia smiled at the memory and reached out her hand again but pulled it back sharply.