The Turnkey of Highgate Cemetery

by Allison Rushby

  At any other time Flossie would probably have taken his bait, but something nagged at her — something that still didn’t make sense.

  When Flossie had touched the twilight skull at the War Rooms, she had felt that fierce argument between the pair going on inside it. It was the sort of battle that was heartfelt and not to be backed down from. What she’d felt — it was Elke to the very core. Just as Flossie had known the story about Hana was true, she knew this was true as well.

  And that was when Elke began to edge away from her father.

  Elke whirled into action, snatching the twilight skull away from her father and departing from view with it. The light surrounding the officers and Viktor Brun dimmed with the twilight skull’s disappearance, though the crystal skull of the living world still shone strongly upon the altar.

  When Elke appeared again, it was in front of the altar, and the two skulls shone like stars, making everyone present — both living and dead — wince. She placed the twilight skull upon the rock wall and then went to take the crystal skull.

  It wouldn’t move.

  She pushed and pulled at it, obviously desperate to get it over to the rock wall.

  And still it wouldn’t budge.

  Flossie couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  Elke had brought her here to destroy the skull after all.

  What was wrong? Maybe she couldn’t move objects in the living world as she’d thought.

  Viktor Brun watched his daughter’s actions, his jaw set hard. “The crystal skull cannot be harmed by those inside it,” he told Elke, calm and controlled. “It preserves itself. Though I’m not sure why you would want to damage it. Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” His voice was stern.

  Elke’s expression became panicked. She looked to Flossie for a split second, then picked up the twilight skull once more and clutched it to her.

  Then, in the blink of an eye, she was gone.

  Viktor Brun stood perfectly still, his fury simmering.

  It was one of the officers who spotted Elke first — alerting them all to her location by pointing at the next rock tower over, where a bright light now shone. There was Elke — standing by herself.

  Viktor Brun stood at the edge of the rock tower and faced his daughter.

  “Elke, we have business to attend to!” he yelled. “Return immediately.”

  Elke didn’t reply.

  “You must stop this now, Elke!” Viktor Brun had had enough. He stamped a foot in frustration.

  “No!” Elke called back, her voice unwavering. “No. I won’t stop. It’s you who has to stop. How can you do these things? Plan these things? Why did you get that horrible man to put me inside the skull?”

  The spiritualist, who had returned to Viktor Brun’s side, now inched away from him nervously.

  “I hate the skull. I hate being inside it,” Elke continued. “I hate knowing what I know. Knowing what you’re planning. What you’re thinking. When I was little, I thought you were good and kind, but now I can hear your every thought and I know you’re not. You’re not! I thought someone would come and stop you. It was only when Flossie arrived that I realized it had to be me. That I had to stand up to you.”

  “Elke . . .”

  “Enough!” Elke replied. “I won’t do what you say anymore. I don’t trust you. How can you do those things to other people — to people like Hana — and then still love me? I don’t understand it. The things you’re planning, they’re evil. Pure evil.”

  “Elke! Get back here now!” her father screamed at her. “You will not disobey me.”

  “I won’t come there. I’ll only talk to you if you come here. I don’t want to talk in front of all those men.”

  Viktor Brun was gone in a flash.

  Flossie was too far away to see Elke’s face, but there was something in her stance — determined and fierce — and it was directed at Flossie. It was then that Flossie realized this was it.

  This was their second chance to destroy the skull. Elke was providing a distraction.

  But if Flossie destroyed the crystal skull, Elke would be gone forever. With no soul, she could never be at rest. She would cease to exist on any plane.

  Flossie couldn’t do that to her.

  She couldn’t!

  The voice came then, clear in Flossie’s head.

  You have to, Flossie. Please. Do it for me. And Hana. For your interred. For all of us.

  From their opposite stone towers, the girls faced each other as Elke’s father appeared beside her.

  This was it. It was now or never.

  The only problem was, Flossie had no way of doing what Elke asked.

  Still, she had to try.

  Flossie closed her eyes and appeared near the altar and the crystal skull. She jumped as she realized that there was a man standing next to her. A tall man dressed all in black.

  Hugo Howsham.

  “Give me your hand.” He spoke quickly, taking her keyed hand in his so that their two iron rings clinked together. His eyes met hers. “Now take it from me. Take my key. The skull must be destroyed once and for all.”

  “I don’t . . .” Flossie began, but then it happened all by itself. As if by magic, his key appeared on her ring and the words came, unbidden. “I am the Turnkey of Kensal Green; the dead remain at rest within.” At the same time, the strangest feeling came over her. A rush of names and faces and cemetery plots — not of those interred at Highgate, but at Kensal Green. And something else, too. A new sort of strength. A powerful feeling.

  Amazed, Flossie’s eyes met Hugo Howsham’s. But there was no time to question him as the living officers began to approach them, yelling in German.

  Now. Now! Please, for all of us. Now! Elke’s voice came again.

  As the living officers closed in, Hugo Howsham stepped between them and Flossie moved into action. She ran over and reached for the skull, the awful turmoil of Elke’s and Viktor Brun’s conflicting souls screaming out at her as she made contact with its smooth surface.

  “Now!” Hugo Howsham yelled as Viktor Brun, sensing the impending danger, appeared back on the top of their rock tower.

  Focusing her newfound power, Flossie heaved the skull to the edge of the rock wall as Hugo Howsham wrestled with Viktor Brun.

  There was no time for hesitation. As the men clashed, she moved the skull into position. Then, just as she felt one of Viktor Brun’s hands grip her shoulder, she pushed the skull with every ounce of strength she had left, and it slid off the rock wall.

  It fell toward the earth, tumbling, shining, shards of light twisting and twirling as it went.

  Down.

  Down.

  Down.

  “You stupid girl,” she heard Viktor Brun say, his voice dripping with hate.

  Hugo Howsham moved between them again and gave Viktor Brun a hard shove backward, releasing Flossie. Brun landed at the feet of his officers as his daughter appeared before him.

  Thank you, Elke said silently, her eyes shining at Flossie. Thank you.

  The crystal skull connected with the hard, wintery ground.

  As it broke into a million dazzling pieces, there was a final burst of brilliant white light from both skulls. A light so blinding that Flossie had to cover her eyes with her hand and its two keys.

  When she lowered it once more, Elke was gone.

  And so was Viktor Brun.

  Flossie’s eyes were fixed upon the space where Elke had been standing.

  She was gone.

  Elke was gone.

  Her soul had been destroyed along with the crystal skull. Destroyed along with her father’s soul. They were no more.

  Flossie was in awe of how brave Elke had been. There were grown men who cowered in the presence of Viktor Brun, but it was a young girl — his own daughter — who had stood up to him when no one else would.

  The scene now lit only by the light of the moon, there was stunned silence from all present on top of the stone tower — living and dead. That is, u
ntil, as one, the officers started shouting and arguing. Only the spiritualist remained quiet — slumped upon the stone floor, looking utterly defeated.

  Flossie, knowing they could no longer see her, ignored them all, intent on that spot where Elke had stood.

  She’d do as Elke had asked. She’d always remember her. And Hana. She’d never forget what Elke had done, how many lives she’d probably saved by sacrificing herself and her father, whom she obviously loved, despite his faults.

  Flossie felt something strange and wet on her face. At first she didn’t understand, but when she did, she gasped, bringing her fingers to her cheek.

  She was crying. She could cry.

  Shocked, she lifted up her keyed hand. The two keys had not only given her the power to hurl the crystal skull from the top of the rock formation; they’d also given her the ability to cry as the living did.

  “Oh!” Her hand shot to her chest as she detected something — the very faintest of heartbeats.

  Hugo was leaning against the rock wall. “So,” he said. “Now you know.” He pushed himself up off the wall, appearing drained. “I’ll have my key back now, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course,” Flossie said. She couldn’t help but notice how nervous he was. Almost as if he thought she might not give his key back. She’d never seen Hugo Howsham nervous before. He knew that he’d given her the opportunity to be more powerful than he. To hold all the cards.

  Flossie offered him her iron ring. He brought his own ring together with hers and another strange feeling swept over her — those same names and faces being stripped from her as if she were a tree being uprooted from solid ground. That power was taken from her, too. There would be no more tears. No more fluttering heartbeat. She heard Hugo Howsham’s voice as if from afar.

  “I am the Turnkey of Kensal Green; the dead remain at rest within.”

  Flossie had to sit down — only one key jangling upon her iron ring once more. Hugo Howsham assisted her, catching her elbow and lowering her to the stone floor.

  “I am sorry,” he said gruffly. “It’s not the most pleasant feeling.” He knelt beside her. “Now do you understand why the other Turnkeys must never know?”

  “I had a heartbeat and I could cry. If I could do all of that with two keys, what would happen if —?”

  “These are questions that are best not asked,” Hugo Howsham said, cutting her off. “This is why I didn’t come with you to this place. Why I’ve stood back and watched this whole time. I was hoping that you would find another way to destroy the skull. You almost did. But there was no other way, as it turns out. Now you know what we were never meant to know and what you must never tell the other Turnkeys. You must promise me you won’t tell them. I should never have known myself that the keys could be combined. I found out by mistake and . . .” He looked away. “Sometimes I am sorry that I did.”

  Flossie frowned. “What do you mean? How did you find out?”

  “No more questions!” Hugo Howsham bellowed. “The Magnificent Seven never meant us to have this information, and we must act as if we don’t. As if we never knew at all. Are we agreed?” He offered her a hand up.

  Flossie took it and rose. “I . . .” she started, not quite knowing what to say. She didn’t understand. Not at all. But, strangely enough, she trusted his judgment on this. She could see how if this knowledge fell into the wrong hands, terrible things might happen. “Yes,” she answered him. “I won’t tell them.”

  “Good.”

  She remembered something. The flash of black at Wewelsburg Castle. “You followed us, didn’t you? The first time I visited Wewelsburg Castle with Violet.”

  He dipped his head. “Perhaps.”

  “You did! I saw your coat.”

  “I wasn’t sure you were up to the task.”

  She remembered something else. “I didn’t want to tell you before, because . . . well, I was worried that you wouldn’t help me if you knew. Viktor Brun — he was the man who killed my father. Who sank his ship. Who took his men.”

  Before he could reply, their attention moved to the German officers, who seemed to have worked out that the rock formation was useless to them now. After some discussion, two of them dragged the spiritualist to his feet and they retreated, crossing the iron footbridge and leaving Flossie and Hugo Howsham on their own.

  Hugo Howsham cleared his throat, his attention moving to the moon above.

  “I’m afraid I’ve said and done some rather foolish things, Miss Birdwhistle.” He ground his walking stick into the stone.

  “Oh?” Flossie replied.

  His green eyes moved back to her then, clear and true and very much like his sister’s. “I was wrong about you, and I’m sorry for it.”

  Flossie hadn’t expected such a direct apology.

  “That’s all right,” she said. “I understand.” And she did understand. Being a Turnkey was difficult. She rarely thought she was making the right decisions. If Hugo Howsham returned to rest and someone her age were given the task of caring for Kensal Green, she knew she’d be dubious about their abilities, too.

  As a feeling of peace settled between them, Hugo Howsham took in their surroundings — the small rock altar, the rock towers, the lake in the distance. “What a strange life we have,” he said. “Or death, should I say?”

  Flossie couldn’t help but agree with him. “Death is a strange place, Mr. Howsham,” she replied. “I thought it was supposed to be all pearly gates and fluffy white clouds and angels, and it’s not. There’s a lot no one ever told me about in Sunday school — that’s for certain.”

  He laughed a short laugh at this and then bent down slightly to offer her his arm.

  “Home?” he said.

  “Home,” Flossie replied.

  Hugo Howsham returned to Kensal Green. Flossie stopped at both Tower Hamlets and Highgate to let Ada and Hazel know she was all right and that the skull had been destroyed. She didn’t say exactly how this had happened. Hazel knew, of course, though she led Ada to believe that it had been Elke who destroyed it.

  She hated lying to Ada. Hated it. But she knew that Hugo Howsham was also right — the power of combining keys was dangerous and could easily be abused. The fewer people who knew about it, the better.

  Flossie’s visit to Ada was brief, as her mind was focused on another place she needed to go.

  Flossie opened her eyes in a familiar corridor of Lambeth Hospital. She had to speak to Grace. Elke hadn’t been able to help Hana, but Flossie was now more determined than ever to see Grace through her troubles and to convince her to live.

  “Grace?” Flossie called out amid the hustle and bustle of the busy hospital. She stepped to one side as a patient was wheeled hurriedly past her toward surgery.

  When she couldn’t find Grace anywhere, Flossie began to lose heart. Then Michael appeared at the far end of the corridor, his tricorn hat tucked under his arm. The Turnkey of Brompton was with him.

  “Everything all right?” the Turnkey of Brompton asked.

  “Yes, in a way,” Flossie replied, her voice tired and drained. “The skull is gone forever. I’ll explain it all to you. Sometime.”

  The Turnkey of Brompton seemed to understand.

  “Come on, then,” Michael said, gesturing. “This way. Her ward’s over here.”

  “Has Grace . . . ?”

  “No, love,” he answered. “Part of her is still here with us, as before. I see that as a good thing. There were times I thought she was close to letting herself slip away from life and stay with us forever. To her credit, she didn’t. She’s strong, that one.”

  Flossie hoped that Grace had taken to heart some of what she’d said at their last meeting.

  Michael moved toward the stairs and Flossie followed, the Turnkey of Brompton close behind them. “She’s up this way. She’s been sitting by her own bed. I can’t be sure, but I think she’s close to making a decision, and I’m hoping it’ll be the right one.”

  “I hope so, too,” Floss
ie replied, following him. “I really hope so.”

  Upstairs, it was just as Michael had said. In among the many beds, full of people affected by bombing in one way or another, there was Grace. She sat upon a small stool that had been left by her bedside, watching over her sleeping self.

  As Flossie approached Grace’s bed, she drew another stool into the twilight with a whoosh and carried it over with her.

  “How about we leave you ladies alone for a bit?” Michael said. And with a dip of his head, he and the Turnkey of Brompton left the way the three of them had come.

  When Flossie reached Grace, she placed the stool next to her.

  “Mind if I sit down?” she asked.

  Grace’s twilight form seemed surprised to see Flossie. She pushed her gas-mask box to one side and brought out the small notebook and pencil Flossie had given her. She began writing.

  “That’s all right,” Flossie said. She knew that Grace had simply been angry, and she’d had every right to feel that way — her mother and sister had been stripped from her life horribly and needlessly. Flossie was glad to see that Grace seemed calm. Michael had surely had much to do with this, and Flossie was grateful he’d been able to spend time with Grace, keeping her company through her ordeal.

  “I don’t need to run off anymore,” Flossie told Grace. “A lot’s happened since I’ve been gone. Can I tell you what I’ve been up to?”

  Grace’s eyes came up from her notebook, which was resting on her lap.

  Flossie proceeded to tell Grace all that had happened since she’d last left Lambeth Hospital. About seeing her father. About Viktor Brun. About Elke. About Hana. The telling took some time. As she was finishing up and contemplating how she might try to convince Grace one last time that she should choose to live, a movement behind them in the ward made Grace swivel in her seat.