The Dark Between (19 page)

She pedaled faster.

Castle End was unusually calm and quiet, but she still took
special care to hide the bicycle in the shadows near the cottage. She had to knock several times on Tec’s door before she heard the bar being lifted. The door opened a crack.

“Kate?” Tec whispered.

“Yes. Let me in!”

He opened the door a little wider. “Come in quick.” As soon as she’d slipped through he shut the door and locked it again.

She looked around the room, expecting to find the usual collection of boys littering the floor. Just a week ago she would have seen Billy sitting near the stove—on a proper chair, though, as he wouldn’t have wanted to crease his suit. But the room was empty. “Where is everyone?”

“Just me now. Martineau has scarpered, and I don’t know any other mediums that’s needing our kind of talent.” He glanced about the room forlornly. “I’ve done my best to find new places for the boys. It’s been a tough few days.”

“I have bad news, too, Tec. Terrible news.”

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s Billy.” Tears welled in her eyes. “He’s dead.”

Tec blinked. “He can’t be. How could you say such a thing?”

“Because he truly
is
dead, Tec. I saw his poor little body.”

Tec stared at her for a long moment. “I … I don’t know what to say. Was it an accident?”

“There’s hardly a mark on him, but I know he was murdered. Problem is, I can’t think who would do it. Can you?”

He shook his head slowly. “I figured Billy got wind of Martineau’s plans and found a new place for himself. I’d no idea he’d gotten himself into trouble.”

“What scheme was he working?”

He looked away. “I don’t know a thing about it.”

“Really, Tec? You don’t have to protect me.”

“Honest, Kate—he never told me about no dangerous
scheme. Poor mite must have taken on more than he could handle. Can’t believe he’s … 
gone
.”

At the sight of his newly glistening eyes, all the control she’d exerted upon hearing the news of Billy’s death, upon seeing his body at the police morgue, vanished. The tears spilled down her cheeks, and she did not bother to wipe them away.

“What are we going to do?” she cried.

Tec placed his hands on her shoulders. “Katie, I’m sorry,” he said gently. “I know Billy was like a little brother to you.” He brushed at her tears with a calloused finger. “Have you found a new situation?”

She nodded, wishing he would pull her closer. “For now, anyway.”

“Good. We’re each on our own now—no more little detectives. You’ve got to be strong, right? And you can’t come here no more. There’s nothing here for you. It ain’t safe.”

“It isn’t? Why not?”

He glanced at the door. “Whatever happened to Billy … I’m afraid the trouble he found might come knocking on my door.”

“But how?”

“I don’t know,” he said gruffly. “But you’re better off keeping your distance. You’ll be at Summerfield for a few days yet, right? As soon as I get things settled, I’ll come find you.”

Her heart leapt. “Will you take me with you?”

“You shouldn’t take up with a rough boy like me.”

“But you’d keep me safe, Tec.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he pulled her into his arms. “Be strong, Katie. There’s a few things that needs figuring out. I’ll see you soon enough, but you’d best go for now.”

When he let her go, her eyes went again to the chair by the stove.

Tec sighed. “Every time I come in, I expect to find our Billy sitting in that chair. I woke in the wee hours last night, and I felt sure he was sitting there,” he continued. “The feeling came over me so powerful-like and so queer, but when I lit the lamp, the chair was empty.”

Kate thought of Elsie and that strange photograph she’d taken. “Maybe he
is
here, Tec. Maybe he’s come home.”

Tec shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure exactly. But I aim to find out.”

Elsie could not sleep.

Images and words flooded her mind, all circling back to Simon Wakeham. She’d hardly taken a bite during the meal, so conscious was she of his proximity. Most of the dinner conversation had floated above her head, but when he’d spoken of persistent energies that transcended death, her flesh had tingled. She’d hung on every word and, strangely enough, it had made sense to her. Everyone had these dark places in their minds, but only a few could access them. It wasn’t a curse after all—it was an
ability
.

She thought of her dead grandmother’s icy grip and shivered. Maybe for her it
was
a curse.

Elsie shook off the memory and turned her mind back to Simon Wakeham, reliving the conversation they’d shared as the dinner group retired to the sitting room.

“You are looking much better this evening, Miss Atherton,” he had murmured.

She’d blushed like the greenest of girls. “Thank you for not revealing our prior acquaintance, Mr. Wakeham.”

“I’m still wondering what it was at the British Museum that brought you from Cambridge.”

“It was a friend … a friendship, I suppose. But it has now ended.”

He held her gaze. “I continue to puzzle over the words you spoke that day. Do you remember what you said?”

She wanted to tell him. It would have been such a relief to confess everything. But it was too soon. And far too risky.

“No,” she lied. “But Mother always told me I spoke absolute gibberish when I was having a spell. Thank you for staying with me—for making certain I was safe. Many men would have walked away.”

Now she again rehearsed the conversation in her head, imagining his reaction if she’d been bold enough to speak the truth.
I do remember what I said, Mr. Wakeham. I was repeating what the dead lady told me. She said she is with you, always watching, and that she is sorry. She loved you very much … and I can see why
.

What would he have said to that?

A noise in the corridor startled her—the whisper of boot soles scuffing the wood floor. Elsie threw the covers aside and lighted her lamp. Opening the door, she shone the light in the corridor. Kate froze before her own door, then turned slowly. “Elsie?” she whispered.

“Come in here
now
.”

Kate’s shoulders sank in submission.

Once Elsie had closed the door and settled Kate in the chair, she sat on the edge of her bed. “Where
were
you?”

Kate stared at her for a moment. “I went to see a boy I used to work with. I needed to tell him about Billy.”

“In the middle of the night? What if my aunt had caught you?”

Kate shrugged. “I had to see him. Thought he might know what happened to Billy.”

“Well? Did he?”

“No.” Kate looked down at her skirt and smoothed it with a trembling hand. “But I had a thought while I was there.” She raised her chin and met Elsie’s gaze. “Billy used to stay there quite often, you see. In fact, when I walked through the door, I could almost see him sitting by the stove. It was a common sight when he was alive.”

Elsie shook her head. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because … I think the three of us need to go to the cottage on Castle End. I think if it’s still possible to reach Billy, you could do it there.”

Chapter 19

A
sher had just reached the second-floor staircase when the girls appeared, as if out of nowhere. Elsie put her finger to her lips as Kate beckoned him into the window alcove.

“Good morning?” he offered tentatively.

“We must go to Castle End,” whispered Kate. “As soon as possible.”

Elsie nodded. “Kate thinks we might make contact with Billy since he spent so much time there.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Lower your voice.” Kate left the alcove to glance down the corridor. “We know you don’t believe,” she said as she rejoined them, “and I told Elsie we should just go without you, but she insisted we ask.”

Elsie smiled. “I’d feel safer with you there.”

Asher’s chest swelled a bit. “Well …”

“Kate feels very strongly about this,” Elsie continued. “If we learn something, I want you to be there to witness it. Can you please set aside your skepticism … just one more time?”

Asher thought for a moment, but he couldn’t manufacture a reasonable excuse. In truth, he’d lain awake a long time the
previous night, his thoughts alternating between Philip Marshall’s theories of the subliminal self and Simon Wakeham’s intimate glances at Elsie. She seemed eager to share all the details of her visions with the latter gentleman. Surely it was better for her to explore them under his watch, rather than that of Mr. Wakeham.

“Well?” Kate’s eyes flashed with impatience.

He ignored her, turning to Elsie instead. “How will you explain this to Mrs. Thompson?”

“We made a plan already. You tell her that you wish to attend a service at Trinity College Chapel, and Kate and I will chime in that we wish to go, too.”

“But what if the Thompsons wish to join us?”

“I doubt they will,” said Elsie. “Mama told me they’ve not been to church for years. I think Aunt Helena might even be an atheist.”

“So?” Kate raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming with us or not?”

He looked from her to Elsie, unsettled by the force of their enthusiasm. “Seems I have little choice. I’ll go with you as long as the Thompsons give permission.”

And, indeed, the Thompsons took kindly to the idea. Mr. Thompson beamed as his wife gushed over their “blossoming friendship,” but Asher suspected they were more pleased simply to have a quiet morning to themselves.

Shortly after breakfast Asher led the way to Trinity College Chapel. Having toured it previously, he took the time to point out the statues and tombs in the antechapel. He then steered them into stalls close to the organ to avoid crossing in front of others when they made their early exit. They sat through two hymns and the first reading before Kate tugged at his sleeve and nodded toward the door.

“Such a lovely chapel,” Elsie murmured as they walked away. “And nearly everyone wearing surplices. They looked angelic in their white gowns, didn’t they?” She turned to Kate. “What if Aunt Helena asks about the sermon?”

“We’ll have to make something up,” said Kate. “Let’s walk quickly, please.”

Asher felt a sinking in his stomach as she led them along increasingly filthy streets, lined with increasingly shabby cottages, until she paused before one in desperate need of fresh whitewash and a window cleaning.

“This is it.” Kate stepped forward to pound on the door, which opened on its own. “It’s not bolted,” she said, pushing the door open wide. “Tec?”

No answer came from within.

“Who is this Tec person again?” Asher asked warily.

“He’s my friend,” Kate said. “You know—the one who managed the little detectives.”

“Ah yes, the young spies and thieves.” He watched Elsie walk about the room, not touching anything. He didn’t blame her. The furniture and the quilts piled in the corner were tattered and grimy. He chuckled at the incongruous sight of an ornate vase sitting high on a shelf. The blue-and-white pattern was familiar. “Did your little detectives steal that as well?” he asked, pointing to it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s Wedgwood.”

Kate shook her head. “One of the boys found it in a rubbish bin, with a crack and chip on one side. Tec thought it so grand that he built that shelf to show off its good side.” She lifted her chin. “And I wouldn’t call the boys thieves. If one has thrown papers or fancy vases into the rubbish bin, is it really thievery when another fishes them out?”

“Your Billy was one of these little … detectives?”

“He was the best,” said Kate. She reached for a leather bundle on the table. “Tec shouldn’t have left this sitting out.”

“What is it?” Asher asked.

“His tools.”

“What sort of tools?”

Kate ran her fingers along the scarred leather. “They’re for picking locks,” she said quietly. “Anyone could come in and pinch them when they’re left out like this. It’s not like Tec to be so careless.”

Asher studied her as she untied the bundle and inspected the thin implements. She seemed to have forgotten about Elsie in her concern for this Tec fellow. How could she care so much about a boy who lived in filth and ran such a seedy enterprise?

In that moment her eyes lifted to meet his. She rolled the bundle and retied it, glaring back at him. “What?”

“What?”

She lifted an eyebrow and shoved the bundle back into the table’s small drawer. When she turned to Elsie, her eyes widened. “That’s exactly where Billy used to sit, Elsie. Last night I could see him there so plainly, almost as though
I
were having a vision.” Her mouth dropped open. “Elsie?”

Asher’s eyes followed Kate’s in time to see Elsie rest her fingers on a chair by the potbellied stove. His heart lurched as she began to convulse.