Among the Darkness Stirs

“’I have been watching when no one else is. I see what no one else sees. I must keep myself safe unless they guess. Things are not what they seem. I keep my door locked at night.

“I am now more certain than ever. I had my doubts as it could be possible but now I know. I will continue to watch.

“Alistair is dead. He was coughing badly towards the end. Consumption? That’s what they want everyone to believe.

“They know that I know. It’s not a game. It’s real. I must be vigilant. I must be ever on the lookout. They killed Alistair. I’m next.’”

Audrey looked up. “Someone was killing the inmates, Henry! They killed Alistair, and Marguerite must have figured out who they were, and they killed her, too.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Henry met her eyes in the warm glow of the gaslights. “It’s not possible, Audrey.”

“Why isn’t it possible, Henry? Who better to kill than inmates in a workhouse? They’ve fallen on bad luck. They have no one and nowhere to go. They target old people like Alistair and Marguerite because no one will care,” Audrey explained. “From a murderer’s point of view, it’s actually brilliant if it weren’t so reprehensible.”

He shook his head. “No. Now stop. We can’t make wild allegations. We have an old woman’s diary and some nonsensical initials and numbers. It means nothing right now.”

“Nothing? Dr. Beesley saw the names and said those people were dead. How is that nonsense?” she countered.

Henry frowned. “Because we made a guess. We thought those initials were names and they could be. But take C.N for instance. Those could be the initials for ten men or ten women. Or a hundred! We’re guessing here.”

“Perhaps—”

He cut her off before she could go any farther. “And we can’t take the wild leap from initials and names to now a murderer is afoot in the workhouse!” Audrey was silent and said nothing. Henry continued. “I think we need to look at the—”

“Where would the books be kept?” Audrey asked. “For those who have died in the workhouse.”

Henry took a long sip of his tea. “Audrey.”

“Henry.” She met his gaze steadily.

“I don’t think this is the right path. It makes no—”

She waved impatiently. “Yes. You’ve said as much.”

“Come, let’s not quarrel over this,” he said quietly.

She crossed her arms across her chest. “We’re not quarrelling. Only lovers quarrel.”

“Is that so?” he said lowly.

She made a frustrated sound. “I just don’t understand why you want to dismiss this theory so easily.”

“Not so easily. But honestly, how could all these bodies be piling up and no one knows? It’s a bit fantastical,” he said, smiling.

“I see.”

“Audrey, no. Wait. I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“We see this differently. That’s all.”

Henry could tell she was not pleased with him. “Why don’t we both sleep on this and talk more tomorrow. We are both tired,” he suggested.

Audrey nodded curtly. “Fine.”

Audrey closed her eyes and breathed out quickly. She was angry at Henry. She’d had no idea what the initials really meant until Dr. Beesley had spotted them and said they were all dead. She admitted to herself that the jump from dead people on a list to the workhouse killing them was a large one, but she had said it aloud to see his thoughts.

Instead of giving it credence, he had seemed to make a joke of it. That had irritated her all the more. She looked across at the papers lying nearby and threw them onto the chair across from her. They scattered, and one fell to the floor.