The parlour was quite sizeable and light for a property of this type. Four arched windows ran the length of the back wall opposite the door and rows of chairs had been placed in front of a makeshift stage where a magic show was taking place. The performer was dressed in black and white stripped trousers and bright red coat tails, his face was painted white but for the two black vertical lines over his eyes and a red painted nose, his black moustache and beard a stark contrast to the white paint.
The magician momentarily halted his performance as Midnight burst into the room and began scanning the rows of chairs. The performer scowled at the interruption and began an exaggerated mime for his audience, chastising the intruder. He waged a gloved finger in Midnight’s direction and mimicked giving him a good spanking. The actions prompted excited squeals of laughter from a few of the people sat in the chairs, none of whom looked like Polly. And then he spotted her, tucked away in the far back corner of the room, hidden from the light. As he neared her position he noticed a thick leather belt around her waist and other’s around her forearms, binding her to the chair. He spotted a bowl on a fixed shelf beneath her chair and realised with horror that she was strapped to a night commode. The nightgown she was dressed in was hitched up at the back and around her skinny thighs, presumably so she could urinate straight into the pot below without having to be seen to.
Midnight was disgusted. Unexpected and unchecked fury rose from the depths of his soul and the few shadows in the room leaped to attention! The squeals of laughter quickly turned to ones of terror as Midnight tore at the straps restraining Polly. The sunlight in the room shrank from the dark, swirling masses that writhed over walls and floor towards him. His usually steady hands shook as he bent and scooped up the limp girl in his arms and carried her from the degradation.
Annie, Gredge and another male attendant came running towards the commotion, just as Midnight barrelled through the door cradling Polly. Annie shrieked.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing? Put her down at once!”
Midnight shot her such a dark and furious look she physically cowered.
“Get whatever papers we need,” he instructed her. “She’s coming home with me. The other two as well.”
“I say!” The other man interrupted.
“Who are you?” spat Midnight.
“I Sir, am the manager of this establishment and you cannot just remove patients under our care willy-nilly!”
“Care? Is this what you call care?” Midnight lifted Polly towards the flustered man. Gredge put a calming hand on his arm and whispered in his ear.
“Calm down man, look around you.”
Midnight stole a glance at the walls and noticed more of the swirling shadows creeping towards them. He cursed under his breath. He needed to get his emotions under control. Taking in a deep, cleansing breath and pushing the shadows away, he lowered his gaze briefly before he next spoke.
“Mr....?”
“Hawksmith,” the man offered hastily.
“Mr. Hawksmith. I am a very wealthy gentleman, one whom it would benefit you to…indulge. I am offering to take responsibility of three of your patients with immediate effect.”
“But that is not procedure!” Hawksmith spluttered.
“This time it is. Make it so, with immediate effect and I shall sign a cheque for one-hundred pounds, payable to this establishment for the refurbishment of facilities and employment of sufficient staff so that this,” he nodded towards Polly, “situation doesn’t happen again.”
Hawksmith’s mouth hung open for the longest of moments before he clamped it shut and instructed Annie to ready the relevant paperwork.
“I’ll be taking Miss Polly now, please get her belongings,” Midnight told Annie who merely bobbed her head and scurried away, red-faced. To Hawksmith he said, “Mr. Bromley and Miss Sally will be sent for as soon as I can make rooms ready for them and hire a nurse. Have them escorted to this address. Arthur?”
Gredge wrote an address on his notepad, tore out the sheet and handed it to the dumbstruck manager.
Annie returned forthwith with a bundle of papers and a scratchy woollen blanket.
“She hasn’t any belongings but I wrapped a clean nightshirt in here.” She handed Gredge the blanket. Midnight placed Polly gently on a small armchair in the foyer and went with Hawksmith to sign the release documents. Leaving Gredge and Annie to watch over her.
“We weren’t trying to be cruel,” Annie said slightly abashed. “She’s not like the rest, and they all have problems you know…but they can all sort of look after themselves. She doesn’t really respond to us, she doesn’t walk or talk…she just sits there, staring. We don’t have enough staff to take care of her needs.”
Arthur looked over at the frail little girl.
“She, is called Polly. I don’t know how you’ve been caring for her but I know Mr. Gunn. He is of outstanding moral fibre and one of the most generous souls I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Rest assured, Polly will be very well cared for now.”
Annie fell quiet. Soon after Hawksmith and Midnight returned. Scooping the girl back into his arms Gunn and Gredge left All Souls Pauper Asylum, without a backwards glance.
“She’s all settled now, Sir.” Clementine Phillips told Midnight as she exited a bedroom in the main wing of the Gunn mansion. Midnight stood outside the door waiting anxiously.
“Can I see her?”
“If you like, but she’s sleeping. Maybe be better to let the poor mite rest a while?”
“Yes, you’re right of course Mrs. Phillips. I just wanted to check on her, that’s all.”
Mrs. Phillips laid a reassuring hand on her master’s arm.
“She’s as well as can be expected, after what you described of her troubles, Sir. Sit with her if you must but let the little lamb rest. I will cook up some chicken broth ready for when she wakes. We must build up her strength. Doesn’t look like she’s had a decent meal in forever.”
Midnight smiled. “You’re a good-hearted woman Mrs. Phillips. Thank you. I will sit a while.” He gently turned the door knob and pushed open the door quietly.
Polly lay in the grand four poster bed with a pristine white sheet drawn right up to her chin and a thick quilted bedspread spread over the top- tucked in neatly along the edges. All he could see was a tiny pale face surrounded by a mass of dark hair. Her small frame looked lost in the huge bed but she was safe and would be cared for as she deserved from now on. Midnight would see to it. Something stirred in him as he settled himself down in the chair beside her bed- an emotion he had not yet experienced but one he recognised from his contact with other people. He felt…paternal towards her. The realisation hit him with all the force of a blow to the gut but he didn’t reel from it. Instead he found that his heart opened and he wanted nothing more than to embrace it. In contrast, his head warned him to steer clear of such reckless thoughts- the child would probably die and sooner rather than later. Unless I can save her, he thought, and the others too. His thoughts turned to Bill Bromley and Sally. Giles and Mrs. Phillips had instructions to make up two more rooms in preparation for their arrival. Giles had put out an advert for a private nurse’s position with board and pay but until the position was filled, they and Midnight would take responsibility for their care.
Some hours later, a gentle knock jolted him awake. He must’ve nodded off in the armchair during his vigil.
“Enter.” Midnight said quietly, and Mrs. Phillips came in carrying a tray which she placed on the bedside table.
“Ahh, she’s waking up. ‘Ello poppet, did you have a nice rest?” Mrs. Phillips smiled down at the girl and stroked her hair away from her face. The girl barely blinked staring blankly at the ceiling. Midnight sat forward in his chair and looked at Polly, her skin was ashen and her lips carried a slight blue tinge that put Midnight in mind of a fresh corpse. He frowned, not liking that he couldn’t ascertain what was wrong with her.
“Your Lordship? Would you mind ‘elping me pro
p her up so I can spoon her some broth? Happen some decent food in her belly may warm her up.”
Midnight jumped up and slid his arm around Polly’s shoulders, lifting her. Mrs. Phillips positioned the pillows and Midnight sat Polly up against them. His hand brushed her forehead tenderly- which triggered a knowing smile from Clementine.
“Open up my little lamb,” she raised a spoon to Polly’s lips and the girl obediently slurped some broth. “I noticed when I tended to her earlier, if you ask her to do something she does it, though nothing of her own accord. It’s very strange, Sir.”
“Indeed it is. I need some time with the girl when you feel she is ready please, Mrs. Phillips? I must figure this out if I’m to help her or the others.”
“Of course. I’ll need to tend to her personal needs once she’s done with her dinner and then she’ll be ready.”
Midnight coughed. “Is everything prepared for our other guests?”
“Everything is ready. We’ll manage between us, until the nurse arrives. Don’t you worry now.”
“Thank you Mrs. Phillips. I’ll be in the library until then.” He rose and started towards the door but paused and turned back towards his housekeeper, “I don’t know how I’d cope without you…and Giles. You really are a blessing.” His words caused a bright blush to form on her cheeks, she smiled coyly and gave a deep, satisfied sigh. As Midnight closed the room door on his way out, he could’ve sworn he heard a quiet chuckle and a teasing “Scallywag” from Clementine.
The Gunn library was exactly as one would expect it to be in a grand house; full of old leather and cloth-bound volumes from floor to ceiling. Oak shelving covered every inch of wall space and in the centre of the room stood a great stone hearth and fireplace with a desk and two leather armchairs in the middle of an ornate woven rug. One door led through to a parlour that looked out onto the back garden and one led to the drawing room at the front of the house. A tall window stood at one end, letting in the daylight and the other end led to a small ante-chamber which Midnight used as his study. It was to that room that he now headed. Once there he turned to face another, smaller bookshelf and found the thick, red-faded volume halfway down the shelf. He pushed it firmly until it clicked and the sound of gears grinding rang loudly in the room. The bookshelf swung slowly inwards revealing a narrow stone staircase, that descended into the dark.
Midnight took the first few steps then reached above his head to pull the cord that dangled from the ceiling, another click and the gears started up again-closing the door behind him. In the few seconds before the gaslight flittered into existence, the shadows leaped for him excitedly but he blocked their advance and continued his descent.
At the foot of the staircase he pushed through another door and entered a wide underground basement. Upon the cold stone walls hung great, woven tapestries and a wide variety of mirrors. These mirrors were not for reasons of vanity, they were purely practical- there were no windows underground so Midnight had adorned his secret room with mirrors in order to reflect as much light from the gas lamps and candles as possible. He did not like working with the shadows in his own house. Down here he favoured the light.
Rummaging around in a desk drawer, he found what he was searching for. A gleaming amulet in the shape of a shining sun with a single white selenite stone, encased in iridium at its centre. He’d had no cause to use it for a long time- being quite adept in his powers now. This, he was sure, is what he needed to help him breakthrough the block in Polly’s mind.
A small brass ceiling bell rang inside the room. Midnight looked up at it. That must be Giles ringing to let him know Mrs. Phillips was finished with Polly. Placing the amulet around his neck he made his way back upstairs to the girl’s room.
“All done,” said Mrs. Phillips merrily. “She ate the lot!” She chuckled and waddled off down the corridor with the tray.
Midnight stepped into Polly’s room eagerly, determined that he would shift the blockage so he could begin healing her. Pulling the chair closer to her bed, he perched on the edge of the seat. He drew in the light from the open window and calm settled over him. Opening his shirt a little he tucked the sun-shaped pendant underneath it and gasped sharply as it adhered to his body- fusing with his skin right over his birthmark. The mark his old housekeeper, Mrs. Henshaw, had once thought of as the devil’s own. What had started out as an inky and oddly shaped blot on his chest, had changed and mutated as he’d grown. It now looked just like the shape of the sun merging with a comet. His father had given it to him on his twelfth birthday, it helped him to enhance and concentrate on his burgeoning powers. It had been tucked away in that drawer for some time and Midnight knew he would need to charge the crystal with light before it would be useful. He drew in more of the sunlight that streaked across the bedroom and channelled it through the stone. It burned but not unpleasantly- more like a concentrated warmth that radiated outwards in heatwaves from its core.
The stone was ready and so was he, he drew in a deep breath and laid his palm on Polly’s brow. He probed tentatively at first, allowing just a thin sliver of energy to flow into her, and felt for the blockage. It jerked and vibrated at his touch, Yes! I see you. He let another thread of light join the first, controlling the way they twisted and combined to make a stronger one. Pushing again he felt the blockage shift and shrink. Encouraged he added a third thread and shoved a little harder. Polly twitched and her eyes shot towards him, piercing him with a wide-eyed stare. Then she screamed a long, loud and unfaltering wail, not unlike that of a banshee, that caused Midnight to startle and topple backwards over his chair. As soon as his eye contact with Polly broke, her screaming stopped. The noise and the clatter from the toppling chair had both Giles and Mrs. Phillips barrelling into the room just minutes later.
“My goodness, Sir!” Giles exclaimed and hurried forward to help Midnight up off the floor.
“Is she alright? What happened?” screeched Mrs. Phillips, running to Polly’s side and frantically patting her face and upper body as if looking for injury.
“She was defending herself, I was right! She’s blocked her mind, put up a protective barrier against something- my guess is against whatever attacked her. I pushed at it and she looked straight at me. She saw me, I know she did!”
“Well why was she screaming like that?” Clementine asked.
“A warning I think. It started as soon as she made eye contact. Mrs. Phillips, Giles, we have to knock down that wall she has built inside her mind. She’s in there somewhere and I think I can get her back!”
“That might well be, Sir. But not today.”
“But...”
“No! Begging your pardon but no. The little lamb has suffered enough. I’ll not have that screaming in this house again. She needs rest.” Midnight had never heard Clementine Phillips sound so determinedly stern, she stood facing Giles and himself, her hands placed firmly on her hips, a thin-lipped scowl centred directly at him.
Having no choice but to retreat, Giles and Midnight left Polly to the tender attentions of the housekeeper. The butler made his way to the kitchen to finish his dinner, leaving Midnight alone on the upstairs landing. The scream had indeed startled him and he wasn’t entirely sure why she would react to him in such a defensive manor, only that she must be extremely frightened and confused. But she had seen him, the glazed look she normally carried had gone, albeit momentarily, and that was a breakthrough. Next time it will work! He vowed, I will bring you back to the land of the living if it kills me.
They’d walked the length and breadth of the Limehouse backstreets, Gredge waiting outside each known opium den for Midnight to emerge with any leads, but so far none could be found.
“Either that,” said Arthur, pointing to the little carved box in Midnight’s hand, “means nothing to anyone or someone is lying.”
“I’m rather inclined to feel it’s the latter,” Midnight replied. He’d just come from Fu Lee’s; the last den on their list.
“What did Fu have to say about it?�
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“Nice box but he knows nothing about any dragon-related club.”
Gredge chuffed out a sigh.
“Same as the rest then!”
“What now?”
Gredge paused for a moment, thinking about his next move.
“Maybe we’re asking the wrong people. Maybe we should be asking the patrons rather than the owners?”
“A stakeout!” Midnight declared gleefully.
“It’s not as much fun as you think.”
“Well that’s because you’ve never been on one with me Inspector.” Midnight’s eyes twinkled.
“No funny business!”
“I’m quite sure I have no idea what you mean.”
“Don’t come the innocent with me, Gunn. I’ve seen you pull a few fast ones lately. I kept my mouth shut because well, I know you did it for good reasons but you can’t go…” Arthur couldn’t grasp the word he was looking for so he just shrugged instead and said, “You know messing about with things.”
“If by fast ones you mean the auction and the asylum, guilty as charged. However, I see those as necessary actions to facilitate the greater good.”
“Cheating is what I call it, although I’m not adverse to seeing those big-wigs cop it from time to time. What you did for Polly and the others, wasn’t legal really. I mean it is now you have the papers but you know…how you got them,” he coughed and continued with caution; he knew how touchy Midnight got when they discussed his abilities. “Not exactly by negotiation or legal procedure was it.”
“Are you asking or interrogating?”
“Asking.”
Midnight nailed him with a piercing look.
“Shall we proceed with our stakeout?” He whispered the last word making it seem conspiratorial. “Minus any funny business obviously.”
Arthur just shook his head. He knew he was getting no answers tonight.
The Hollows: A Midnight Gunn Novel Page 6