P. Elrod - The Hanged Man

The small crowd stirred, and frowns of anger for James subsided into a sheepish awkwardness.

“To a man, we’ll swear on the Bible that this goes no further,” said Hamish. “Is that right, lads? For the queen’s sake?”

They responded, as loyal subjects must, with growls of affirmation and stubborn faces. “We know our duty,” confirmed one, the others agreeing.

“I’m proved wrong,” said James. “If you lot can keep such a secret, then the Empire is secure. Count me in as well. Swear on a Bible or this bottle of excellent whiskey, whichever you hold more sacred.”

Woodwake and Brook looked appalled at the blasphemy, but Lennon was amused. Alex was too tired to show her disgust. James was incapable of being serious for longer than a minute, even with the shrouded body of a murdered man at his feet.

“I’ll swear on both, if you don’t mind, sir,” said Lennon, stepping forward. He accepted the bottle and drank to the pact.

Alex spoke to Mrs. Woodwake, keeping it between them. “What about my family? My uncle needs to know his brother is dead.”

The woman shook her head. “No. Not yet.”

“He has a right to know, ma’am.”

“He will be informed, but not yet. It’s impossible. Until we know what your father was doing posing as Dr. Kemp, until we know how or if his death was connected to the attacks on Lord Richard, you are not to speak of this to your uncle or any member of the Pendlebury family. The nature of a state secret is that it overshadows personal considerations. I realize this places a heavy burden on you, but you must find the strength to bear it.”

How?

“You’re all in, girl. I’m sending you home.”

“It’s just up the street at the end. I’ll walk. I need the air.”

“Not alone and not there. You’re to pick up what things you’ll need for the next few days and stay with your uncle’s family for the time being.”

Alex was initially too stunned to speak. “I–I can’t. Your pardon, ma’am, I simply cannot go there.”

“They’re your family, of course you’ll go.”

“You don’t understand … my dealings with them are not-congenial.”

“A state of affairs you share with many others in the Service, including myself. Our gifts are often misunderstood by those closest to us.”

“That’s not it-”

“Are they a danger to you? Have they ever done you physical harm?”

“What? No, but-”

“Then you’re to stay with them.”

“I’ll put up in a hotel or the Service dormitory with the apprentices. Either will be fine.”

Woodwake leaned close. “Miss Pendlebury, put your feelings aside and consider that if someone murdered your father then that same person might have similar designs on your uncle or the rest of the family, including yourself. I want you there to keep an eye on them. There is safety in numbers. You should not be alone and vulnerable in a hotel, and you cannot look after your family hiding among the apprentices.”

Alex went red. “Hiding? Madam, you’ve no-”

“I’ve every right,” she said. “You’re the only one in the whole damned Service who can get under the Pendlebury roof without raising questions. You’re keen to be on the investigation; this is as much of it as can be allowed. I’ll arrange to have armed people on watch in case there’s another attempt like this. Now for God’s sake, do as you’re ordered and see to your duty.”

Woodwake’s startling language and the force behind her words seemed to steal the strength from her. She swayed; Alex steadied her without thinking and felt a rush of feelings strike like the lash of a whip. The woman was on the edge of screaming from the turmoil within. Panic, guilt, terror, rage … held in check by sheer will, and there were cracks in that brittle barrier. Her greatest fear was that she would lose her tenuous control, break down, and fail to uphold her facade-and Alex was not helping.

She backed off, ending the contact. “Of course, ma’am. Whatever is required.”

Woodwake shut her eyes a moment, composing herself. When she looked at Alex again they were softer and infinitely tired. “Go. However horrid, go be with your family. Whether you like them or not, you need them. I’ll send for you tomorrow to give a report at the head office. Have a detailed account ready to hand in. Keep your wits about you and your eyes open. I don’t want another body in the morgue.”

Lennon put himself forward. “You hens done clucking? Right then, Mrs. Psychic Service, you were telling me my job on what to do with that toff doctor.”

“Yes, Inspector. That case is now fully under Service jurisdiction. We will see to it and to this one here and you’ll speak to no one about them.”

“That serves me fine. The wife has a fine goose for our supper and I’ll be pleased to enjoy it and forget this botheration. I won’t grass on you. There’s not a jack at the Yard who’d believe it, anyway. I’m off, then.”

“Not yet,” she said. “I would be most obliged if you would escort Miss Pendlebury to her home. Mr. Brook, is your hansom outside? You’ll take them, then return here.”

Lennon had no objection to having a Service driver instead of a constable at his beck, even for a short time. He crowded into the cab next to Alex, and Brook took them up the street to her house.

It looked exactly the same as when she’d left, and that felt odd. The atmosphere of serenity within was untouched by the hideous chaos she’d been through.

It’s the same, but I’m different. The changes aren’t apparent yet, but they will overtake me.

She decided to not think about them. Later would do. It would have to do.

Not knowing how long she’d be, she told the men to come inside to wait. The wind and sleet had died, but the damp cold was the kind that sank into the bones and stayed. She unlocked the door but Brook went in first, pushing past her. He had a pistol in one hand.

Alex almost spoke to tell him not to worry, but changed her mind as she remembered Woodwake’s last order.

Lennon noticed. “There’s a wise little tweak,” he said. “Let the big strong soldier do his job. He’ll feel useful.”

“Clear, miss,” said Brook, some minutes later. “Leastwise this floor. I should like a look upstairs if you don’t mind.”

She did not and stood with Lennon in the entry. When Brook returned with a negative report she went up to her room. It was as she’d left it, the bed unmade, nightclothes tossed on the pillow, the sweet scent of rosewater lingering in the still air. She wanted to burrow under the familiar comfort of her own soft sheets and thick blankets and shut herself away from this awful night.

She should have been allowed to stay in the sanctuary she’d so carefully built here. She should have been able to convince Woodwake to set Brook or some other man to keep an eye on her. Forsaking this peace for the stifling atmosphere of Pendlebury House was wrong.

She’d be sent for tomorrow, though. Perhaps she could make other arrangements by then.

Alex abruptly remembered Fingate and his cryptic message.

She gave a groan.

Bloody hell.

It wouldn’t count for anything that she’d been about to tell Lord Richard of her nine o’clock meeting in Hyde Park. Or that she’d forgotten it until now, when it was too late to mention to Woodwake.

I’ll just have to meet him and get him to come along to the Service head office .

And hope that would be sufficient to keep her out of trouble. God knows, being attacked by masked lunatics was a damned good excuse, but Woodwake might not see it that way.

Alex removed her clothes. By the time Mrs. Harris got back on Boxing Day the bloodstains would be set.