Prayers for the Dying

by Tracy L. Ward

  Before they could walk through the door, Julia appeared. With her hands up in front of her, her eyes darted to the side. Delilah appeared behind her through the doorway.

  “Julia?” Ainsley’s heart skipped at the sight of her.

  Delilah made Julia walk ahead and then gave a half turn to close the door, her movement revealing a small, derringer pistol pressed into the small of Julia’s back.

  The maid had her hands raised in front of her, her palms open, but her expression remained solid until her eyes met Ainsley’s and then they only faltered for a second.

  Delilah guided her, with a hand clutching a clump of hair at the base of Julia’s skull and the gun pressed into her side. Using Julia as a shield, Delilah inched forward. “Look who I found lurking out front.”

  “I’m sorry, Peter.”

  “Delilah, go home.” Thaddeus shook his head, no doubt ashamed at the way her hand shook and her voice trembled when she spoke.

  “I can do this,” she answered defiantly, stepping closer, pushing Julia ahead.

  “One more step and your brother doesn’t make it,” Ainsley warned.

  “And I’ll shoot Little Miss here before my brother hits the ground.” She reached up with her free hand and tightened a fist around Julia’s hair.

  Julia let out a tiny yelp and jerked her head back slightly.

  Mrs. Calvin appeared at one of the doors to the courtyard. “Thaddeus?” She inched closer to the scene and glanced to the men, who still had their weapons pointed to Ainsley. “What’s going on?”

  “This doesn’t concern you, Mother,” Thaddeus said, through gritted teeth.

  “Delilah, what are you doing?”

  Delilah raised her chin at the sight of her mother. “I can do it,” she proclaimed yet again.

  “Tell her to stop, Mother,” Thaddeus said. “Tell her to lower her weapon and make a trade.”

  Ainsley licked his dry lips as Mrs. Calvin inched toward Delilah with her hand outstretched. “Listen to your family, sweetie,” she said. “Do the right thing. For all of us.”

  On the other side of Thaddeus, Robert looked up to Ainsley. All colour had vanished from his face and Ainsley could tell it was a struggle for him to remain upright. “Promise me you’ll take care of my girls,” he said in a whisper.

  It was clear they were not all getting out of there alive. Thaddeus was only bidding his time.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Robert,” Ainsley said softly. He could see Robert steeling himself against what he believed he needed to do.

  “I’m not going to make it,” Robert said, the muscle in his cheek twitching.

  “I can still get you to a hospital. Guy’s is just around the corner.”

  “Delilah, put the gun down,” Thaddeus warned. “Delilah!”

  The young woman trembled, as her heart quickened beneath her tight bodice. “We have to do this, Thad.” Her eyes darted to their mother and then back again. She recommitted herself by raising her gun so that now it pressed into the flesh of Julia’s temple. “Let my brother go!” she demanded.

  Betting on Delilah’s lack of fortitude, Ainsley shook his head.

  Delilah’s naive features betrayed her shock for a few seconds before she corrected herself. “You haven’t a clue how long we have wanted Julia dead,” she said with a scowl. “Don’t give me another reason to pull this trigger.”

  “Take Robert and go,” Julia said. “He needs a doctor.” A tear trailed down her cheek as she closed her eyes for a second as if to will any others away.

  “I’m not leaving without you.” Ainsley moved his gaze between Thaddeus, Delilah, and Robert. He knew Delilah was nervous. He could see as much by the way her skirt shifted. He imagined she was shifting her weight from one side to the next. Earlier, she tried to convince her brother that she was capable. She was clearly comfortable holding her tiny gun, had probably done so many times, but he doubted she had ever pulled the trigger.

  In that instant, Ainsley’s gaze met Robert’s and he realized what Julia’s brother intended to do.

  “Remember what I said.”

  He charged for Delilah, cutting through the space between them and tackling her to the ground. With Delilah’s fist still clutching her hair Julia was pulled to the ground in the tussle as Mrs. Calvin sprung to help her daughter. A cloud of dust erupted around them as they rolled about.

  Thaddeus rounded on Ainsley and tried to wrestle the gun from his grasp. Face to face they struggled, each growling and grunting with the gun raised in the air. With his free arm, Ainsley threw his elbow and landed a hit to Thaddeus’s face. He kicked Thaddeus’s feet out from under him and then threw his body weight onto him. He pressed Thaddeus’s face into the cobblestones and thrust his gun into his back.

  A high-pitched shriek came from Delilah.

  BANG.

  At the same time, Ainsley could hear the sounds of horses’ hooves on the other side of the gate, as if a thousand or so had converged on the small side street. A second later the gate was forced open and a dozen constables stormed through, readying their billy clubs as they spread out into the yard. Thaddeus’s men ran in countless directions, barring doors behind them as they scattered.

  Simms appeared at Ainsley’s side. “I hope you weren’t intending to use that.”

  Ainsley didn’t answer him. His focus had turned to Robert and Julia, both lying on the cobbles, a pool of blood spreading out between them.

  “Julia?” Ainsley stumbled as he tried to run to her, and ended up crawling the rest of the way.

  “Julia!”

  Ainsley pulled her into his arms, ignoring the blood that caked into the fabric of her dress. The bullet had hit her shoulder, dangerously close to her heart.

  “Bring a carriage!” Simms yelled. “A carriage, you fool!”

  Robert moaned as he rolled, revealing a grisly wound to his stomach. Delilah sat in shock for a few seconds as she pulled herself away, snatching the gun from the blood on the cobbles.

  “You killed her,” Robert said, inching toward the woman who was desperate to get away. “You were supposed to kill me, not her!”

  Mrs. Calvin reached out for her daughter.

  “Stay away from me,” Delilah commanded, struggling to keep the gun from slipping in her hands.

  Robert continued forward.

  “I said stay away from me!” She pulled the trigger once as Robert caught up to her and missed. He wrapped her hands around her throat but Delilah shot again, this time getting him in the chest.

  “Arrest her,” Simms said. “Peter?”

  But Ainsley was already on his feet, Julia cradled in his arms. He passed all the police carriages and ran as fast as he could muster for Guy’s. Her pulse was weak and he couldn’t know how much blood she had lost on the ground of the courtyard.

  “Fight for me, Julia. Fight for me,” he begged through gritted teeth.

  By the time he reached the front doors of the hospital the words had morphed into a marching song that he repeated again and again even as the attending surgeon rushed him to the nearest surgical bed.

  “Save her, damn you, save her,” he said as he backed away.

  “Dr. Ainsley, you must let the surgeon do his work,” the nurse said as she guided Ainsley away from the surgical table.

  Ainsley looked to her, startled that she had called him by name. No one forced him to leave the room and instead he stood back and watched as the nursing staff rallied and the surgeon barked out his orders.

  “Is she going to be all right?” Ainsley heard himself saying.

  No one answered him.

  Chapter 28

  Two hours later Ainsley pulled his head away from his hands and realized he was sitting in the hall at Guy’s Hospital. He thought he was all alone until he glanced down the corridor and saw Simms and Margaret talking. They were too far away for Ainsley to hear what they were saying but Margaret looked unwell, as if she had been sobbing for some time.

  She turned her head towar
d Ainsley and then lowered her gaze. A few seconds later she walked toward him slowly, as if approaching an injured animal that could startle at any given moment. Brushing the tears from his cheeks, Ainsley stood and wiped his wet hands on his trousers.

  “What’s happened?” he asked, choking back the urge to pepper her with questions.

  It took her a long time to raise her gaze to him and even then she bit her lower lip hard. “Robert succumbed to his injuries,” she started.

  Ainsley could see how much it was a struggle for her to speak. Tears graced the lids of her eyes and already her nose was turning pale pink.

  “And Julia? She’s in recovery, yes?”

  Margaret let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Peter—”

  His legs rocked slightly and he reached out to the wall to steady himself. “Don’t say it,” he begged, tears coming freely. “I couldn’t bear it. Please, Margaret…say I’m only dreaming.”

  She reached out to him, but he turned from her in an effort to hide his tears.

  “She lost too much blood,” she continued, even as Ainsley leaned further into the wall. Amidst his internal wailing, his throat closed and he found himself gasping for air. He felt himself collapsing, as if his entire world had shifted and he could not fight the force of it. The wall was the only thing keeping him upright.

  Oh, how he loved her. The curls that framed her face. The tiny laugh she offered him when he kissed her neck. The stern look she gave him when he had said something insensitive. Since the day he had met her she had been the driving force in his life, the strength by which he bettered himself. She was, without a doubt, his Julia and always would be.

  “Peter?” Margaret touched his arm but he shook her off. His hands were already curled at his side. He did not give her another chance to call out to him. He was charging down the hall, out the door and into the sunny street before his first tear even hit the floor.

  The murmur at 4 Whitehall Place died instantly when Ainsley entered the front door. He ignored the piteous stares and sideways glances, and instead made his way down the hall. Two uniformed officers stood outside one closed door and he knew that was where they were.

  Inspector Simms, who had struggled to keep pace with him all the way from the hospital, jogged up beside him.

  “You found the women in the attic?” Ainsley asked, without turning to look at him.

  “Yes. They are all safe now. But, Peter, you need to stop.” Simms tugged at his arm. “Peter, don’t.”

  Ainsley jerked his arm away and pushed past the officers who were caught off guard by Ainsley’s bold behaviour.

  Inside, Delilah sat at the desk, sobbing into a lace handkerchief while her mother leaned into the desk talking to her. Startled, they pulled away from each other and Mrs. Calvin stood. Thaddeus, holding a cloth to the wound on his forehead, was the only one who looked wholly unconcerned by Ainsley’s sudden appearance. He even smiled when he saw Ainsley step toward his mother.

  “You can’t come in here,” she said, placing herself between her daughter and Ainsley. “Haven’t you already done enough?”

  “My anguish ends when Delilah and Thaddeus hang from the gallows.”

  Delilah’s eyes widened when Ainsley pointed at her.

  “Hanged?” She looked genuinely shocked at the prospect.

  “You killed her!” Ainsley growled and fought each effort Simms made to remove him from the room. “You killed her and I will not rest until she sees justice.”

  Thaddeus uncrossed his legs and sat up. “Julia is dead?”

  “She killed my son,” Mrs. Calvin said uncaringly. “Edgar was my miracle child. As far as I am concerned, my daughter was only doing right by us all by taking care of that murderess.”

  A quick glance to Delilah revealed far less confidence in her actions.

  “Don’t let them hang me, Mama,” she said, tugging on her mother’s sleeve as if she were eight years old once more.

  Simms pulled at Ainsley, coaxing him away, but Ainsley stood steadfast. His eyes were locked on Mrs. Calvin, who stood defiant and proud. What had she said to Delilah?

  Listen to your family, sweetie.

  Do the right thing. For all of us.

  That woman had stood in his very morgue, supposedly weeping over the loss of her daughter, a domestic servant serving a house in the city’s west end.

  “It was you,” Ainsley said.

  Mrs. Calvin turned her head slightly, but never broke the stare.

  An overwhelming feeling of disgust rolled over him. He finally saw her for what she really was: manipulative and conniving. “You told Delilah to kill her. You gave her the derringer.”

  “Mama?”

  “Quiet.” Her voice was sharp. “My daughter is in deep mourning for her brother, Edgar. It is perfectly understandable upon seeing her brother’s murderer she would seek vengeance.” She averted her gaze then, turning to her meek daughter seated next to her. She cradled Delilah’s chin between her thumb and her forefinger and smiled. “I commend her for her bravery.”

  An awkward smile, half pleasure, half pain, touched Delilah’s face as confusion set in.

  “Your baby that almost died. That wasn’t Thaddeus. That was Edgar. You made him into the monster who killed his own child and wife.” The pieces slid together in Ainsley’s mind, formulating a clear picture of the Calvins’ distorted world and cruel outlook. “You put her up to this!” Ainsley said, pulling Mrs. Calvin’s hand away from Delilah. “Horses and tethers, Thaddeus, is that how your mother raised you? Horses and tethers?”

  Simms began pulling Ainsley out the door. “All right, that’s enough, Peter.”

  Soon another constable joined him and Ainsley found himself no match between the two of them. He pawed at arms that hooked around him and fought them until they stood in the hall, on the other side of the office door.

  “She did it, Simms. She put that poor girl up to it and now she will hang in her mother’s stead.” Ainsley ran a hand through his hair as he paced the hall. He could see Delilah, Mrs. Calvin, and Thaddeus through the glass door, which only angered him more.

  “It’s done,” Simms said with resignation.

  “You can’t let her get away with it.”

  Simms shook his head, a pained look on his face. “There’s nothing I can do. I have twenty witnesses that saw Delilah pull the trigger.”

  “And Thaddeus?”

  The detective hesitated.

  “The women in the attic?”

  “Who were all abducted by his men. Most of them had never even seen Thaddeus at the warehouse.”

  “The women in the Thames?”

  “Again, probably someone in his employ.”

  “You have to try.”

  “I will try. The investigation is ongoing. I haven’t interviewed everyone yet. But it’s just as I’ve said before, it’s like he doesn’t exist.” Simms clasped a hand on Ainsley’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Go home and rest, Peter. It’s been one hell of a day.” Simms began walking down the hall. Three steps away he turned back when he realized Ainsley was locked in place.

  “Home?” Ainsley’s voice shook as he spoke. “My home is nothing but ashes.”

  When Ainsley walked by Margaret’s room he could hear her crying. He peeked inside and saw her seated at her toilette table, staring absently at her own reflection. How cruel fate had been to both of them. Ainsley struggled to find words of consolation but nothing seemed appropriate. In shock himself, he stood there for many minutes before the murmured cries of Lucy pulled his attention away. Only then did Margaret’s eyes focus and finally see him at the door.

  “Peter?”

  But he had turned away, continued down the hall to the nursery. Prudence sat on the floor, slumped toward the side of the bed, her head slouched into the soft covers that draped over the edge. A tiny snore left her as Lucy played contently nearby.

  Ainsley tiptoed past and reached down to scoop her from the floor.

  “Oh g
oodness, my apologies, Mr. Marshall.” The maid rubbed her weary eyes and moved to stand.

  “It’s all right,” he said, holding Lucy on his hip. “She’s probably been running you off your feet.” He smiled and bounced the baby up and down.

  “Yes sir,” the young girl answered.

  “She can come sit with me for a while. You rest.” He didn’t give the maid any chance to protest and simply left the room with Lucy gurgling at his side. Nothing in particular propelled him to his father’s room. He passed the door and at the last second decided to go in.

  Aunt Louisa wept at the mantel, rubbing the bottom of her nose with her purple handkerchief. She stopped suddenly when Ainsley entered. “Oh Peter, it’s just awful.”

  Someone had put Lord Marshall in a deep, cushioned chair near the window. Lucy pointed to him as they crossed the room and then clapped her hands joyfully.

  “I think she likes you,” Ainsley said, avoiding Aunt Louisa’s pleading gaze.

  Pulling a chair from the bedside, Ainsley sat opposite his father. He placed the baby at the very edge of his knee and instantly she pulled against his grip wanting to get closer to Lord Marshall.

  The patriarch sat unsure for many seconds before raising his good arm and beckoning Ainsley to bring her closer. Lucy sat upright on Lord Marshall’s lap, cradled somewhat on his paralyzed side, and took hold of the finger on his good arm. She giggled as she forced his hand up and down. A smile touched Lord Marshall’s lips.

  “Poor sprite,” Aunt Louisa sniffed. “She has no one in the world now.”

  Lord Marshall’s eyes welled up slightly, causing him to turn his head away.

  “I know it’s extraordinary,” Ainsley said, licking his lips and willing a fresh wave of tears away, “but I’ve decided to take Lucy in as my own.” Ainsley focused on the movements of the little girl, somewhat scared of his father’s reaction to such news. “It’s the least I can do for Julia.” He sniffled. “I haven’t told Margaret yet.”

  The decision was not a hard one to make. Both her parents had been murdered and her aunt had been very dear to him.