by Mark C. King
If there was any hope to grab onto and share, Charlotte would have done so. However, there was none that she could find and there was no way that she would mislead Jena into false hopes.
Anne said, “My dear Jena, I must agree with Charlotte. Please be assured that whatever your husband’s reasons were for his actions, they were because of his mistakes. You are a wonderful woman that deserves so much more than what you have been given.”
Jena did not answer, just looked down at her hands with glistening eyes. Her future may be brighter outside of Bedlam, but it was not without its shadows.
* * *
Sigmund entered the dining room with Basil and Xavier for the evening meal. Among the first to arrive, they chose their seats near the door. As people filtered in, he watched for Charlotte. He felt an eagerness to tell her that he would accept her help. Since finding out from Holmes that she was who she claimed to be, he gave considerable thought to her offer. Initially, he was very much against the idea of having someone along with him. It added unknown variables to an already murky situation. Still, having a companion had benefits too. But beyond the basic pros and cons of the choice, Sigmund could not deny that he was very much intrigued by Charlotte. He wanted to include her; to share the experience. Her sincerity and passion were infectious and it became important, somehow, that he help her achieve her goals.
The meal was typical fare, a soup with a smattering of vegetables and bits of ham. Despite the ingredients, it tasted mostly like salty water. Diverting his attention to the entering patients was both an easy and welcome distraction from the food.
Charlotte entered before too long and Sigmund was happy that one of the first things she did was to scan the room for him. When they made eye contact, Sigmund smiled at her and motioned with his head towards the community room. After a moment’s consideration, Charlotte nodded and then sat down to her meal.
“There is something between you two,” commented Basil.
It was a statement of fact more than some kind of accusation. Basil was simply curious about his new friend and some less than normal behavior. Sigmund appreciated Basil and owed him a lot for his friendship. Since the day they met, Sigmund had fought a battle within himself about whether or not it was wise to tell Basil what his purpose in the asylum really was. It did not feel fair to keep this fine man in the dark.
“Are you done with your meal?” Sigmund asked.
“Quite.”
“Then let us relax in the community room. There are a couple of things I think we should discuss.”
Basil looked at Sigmund with a sideways glance and a half smile. He was certainly a good sport.
As the two men stood, Sigmund looked at Xavier and asked, “Will you be joining us?”
Without a word or a glance in Sigmund’s direction, Xavier stood and then followed them into the community room where they sat at one of the tables that contained a chess set. Besides the obligatory game, Sigmund made sure that they were not close to where any of the orderlies usually sat. The game pieces were not arranged and Xavier immediately went to setting them in place.
There was a touch of nervousness that Sigmund felt at the thought of confessing to Basil. He was not worried that Basil would betray him, but Sigmund was concerned that his friend might feel hurt at the charade.
“Basil, I must start with fact that you have been an excellent companion to me since my arrival and that I have battled with myself on whether or not to tell you what I am about to expose.”
“Other than this mysterious revelation, I can say the same thing about you. No offense, Xavier, but the days have been more tolerable since your arrival, Sigmund.”
It was a nice compliment and made Sigmund even more nervous at upsetting Basil. It was best to just get it out, Sigmund decided. “I did not attack a waiter, with a spoon or otherwise. With the help of Scotland Yard, I was admitted under that story in order to investigate the disease that we have talked about.”
“Well, now,” said Basil, “that is a bit of surprising news.”
Sigmund proceeded to tell him about all his findings, which was not much more than what he had already shared. He was, however, able to include his lock picking skills, and the incident with Mr. Baker, the orderly trying to assault one of the female patients.
“You did well to stop that animal,” commented Basil. “There are rumours of that kind of goings on, but I desperately hoped they were not true. I wonder if I would have been so lenient on him if I was there.”
Sigmund nodded and said, “Well, he will be in jail before too long. Chief Inspector Holmes will be made aware of all that has been happening here.”
“Ah, very good. I was called to meet with the Chief Inspector this morning. He asked a few questions that I had answered previously. A good chap by my reckoning.”
“That he is. I am afraid that you were called because of me. He had some information to pass along, but did not want to tip our hand by meeting only with me. He provided a couple pieces of information that was very interesting.”
“What did he say?”
“First, the patient that killed Doctor Exton had the same brain ailment that I have been investigating. Although I am not sure how, it is part of my investigation.”
“Good Lord!” exclaimed Basil. “That does turn things even darker, does it not?”
“It certainly does. If a person is behind all of this, which I believe there is, then the change in behavior is a strange twist.”
“Was there anything else the Chief Inspector told you?” asked Basil.
Sigmund smiled and said, “That brings us to Charlotte Caine; the woman I gestured to in the dining hall.”
“Why would the Chief Inspector have information on her? Do you think she is behind all of this?”
“Oh no! She is not a participant, at least not yet. I trust your discretion on this next bit of information as it does not fully belong to me to share. Charlotte Caine is actually Charlotte Merrihail, a writer for the Strand Magazine. She is here under false pretenses in order to write an article on the treatment of patients here at Bedlam Asylum. Her goal is to expose any wrongdoings and to help these poor individuals.”
Basil leaned back in his chair and had a stunned look on his face. Admittedly, he had just received a lot of unexpected information. Sigmund allowed time for it all to soak in. After thirty seconds or so, Basil said, “I am a man who is accustomed to some hardships and danger. My work in Egypt is not the easiest life, but it is also not the least bit dull. I am glad to have met you Sigmund, you have brought some much missed adventure back into my life.”
With a smile, Sigmund asked, “So, you are not cross at me?”
“Heavens, no! I am honored that you trust me enough to confide in me. Tell me, what can I do to help?”
Sigmund knew that if Basil was not mad at him, then he would no doubt want to help. He was that kind of man. Having one person with him on his nighttime investigation was already pushing his comfort level. There was no way he could include another person. “The best way you can help is by doing what you have been doing. Giving consideration to the details that we come across and try to figure out how they work together. I am still struggling to figure out how they all fit together, or why. Please continue to apply your mental efforts to this.”
“I am usually more of a doer than a thinker,” commented Basil, “but I will give it my full attention.”
Basil’s eyes looked away from Sigmund at something over his shoulder. When Sigmund turned to see what he was looking at, he found Charlotte approaching their table.
“Have a seat, my dear,” offered Basil. “Are you interested in a game?”
“Thank you, but no. I was hoping to talk with Sigmund.” She looked at Sigmund and gave a puzzled look.
“Charlotte,” Sigmund said, “it is alright. We can talk freely with Basil and Xavier. They know my purpose and,” he hesitated for a moment, “and yours too.”
A small look of surprise and perhaps a little hurt crossed her face. S
igmund quickly continued, “I apologize if this was too much out of line, but I trust these two implicitly.” He noticed a solemn look on Basil’s face as he also looked at her.
A small smile broke out on Charlotte’s lips and she said, “Fair enough,” and then sat down. She continued, “In this vein of honestly, I must admit something as well.”
It was Sigmund’s turn to be puzzled.
Charlotte went on, “I have also made some close friends here and have confided in them. Both about me and about you, Sigmund. I, likewise, have implicit trust in their judgement.”
There was a little hurt and worry that came to Sigmund’s mind. However, her act was the exact same act that Sigmund had done – expose a secret. The hypocrisy of his feelings was quickly overcome by the continued decision to trust Charlotte. Sigmund said, “Well, I think all the cards are on the table now. Are there any other secrets or confessions that anyone would like to bring up?”
There were smiles around the table but, since it was mostly a jest, no one spoke. Sigmund repeated the information about Cecil, the patient that died after murdering Exton, so that Charlotte had all the information that the rest of them had. Lastly, he told her that he would accept her offer of help.
With bright eyes and clear excitement, Charlotte exclaimed, “Thank you, Sigmund! You will not regret it.”
“No. I do not believe I shall.”
Arrangements were made for that very night.
36.
Laying in his bed in the pitch blackness, Sigmund thought of all the things that could go wrong. The mind is devious in darkness, he scolded himself. It was not the time for naysaying or letting fears run free.
He jumped as a sharp crack of thunder shattered the silence. The rumbling faded, but Sigmund’s heart rate did not. The storm outside raged with renewed passion. The calmer weather over the past few days was nothing more than a tease for that night’s maelstrom. The rain was thick as sheets, while the wind ravaged anything that stood in its way.
When Sigmund could take the waiting no more, he went to the door of his little room and unlocked it. The corridor beyond was very dark and he could see no more than a few feet. In the brief flash of a lightning bolt, Sigmund confirmed that the hallway was empty. With the snapshot of the layout freshly burned in his mind, he made his way quickly to the double doors.
The sounds of crying and laughter were hard to make out over the beating of rain on the windows, but the lamentable sounds were not completely suppressed. Sigmund took some solace in the thought that things could change here – with Charlotte’s article.
At the double doors, Sigmund put his ear against one and strained to hear anything on the other side. As far as he could tell over the storm, all was quiet. Taking out his lock picks, he went to work on the handle and had it opened in under a minute. Once on the other side of the doors, Sigmund paused again to try and sense if anyone was about. Nothing could be seen or heard.
Quietly making his way across the second floor landing, he passed by the dining room and community room and approached the women’s second floor wing. The lock mechanism was similar to the one he had just defeated and he had it unlocked shortly. A bit of creaking could be heard as Sigmund opened the door very slowly. He cringed at the sound, although, in reality, it was not loud enough to disturb anyone. With the door opened, he looked for signs of Charlotte. At first, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. His mind jumped to whether or not he should wait or perhaps even try to find her. Neither option was appealing.
“Sigmund, is that you?” a whisper came from the darkness.
“Charlotte?”
He sensed movement and another lighting flash lit up the corridor and showed clearly that a person, Charlotte, was there. He instinctively moved backwards as he did not realize someone was so close to him. Letting out a pent-up breath, he said quietly, “Let’s go.”
After Charlotte passed out of the doorway, a voice from the dark hallway behind her asked, “What are you doing?”
It was a whispered voice, but it sounded young. Charlotte responded, “Pocket, is that you?”
“Yes, Miss Charlotte.”
She let out a sigh and said, “You should be asleep. Now go back to bed.”
“But what are you doing? I want to come.”
This was getting ridiculous, thought Sigmund. With as an authoritative whispered voice as he could muster, Sigmund said, “Look, umm, Pocket, was it? There is something that Miss Charlotte and I need to do. We cannot have you come along this time. Understand?”
“You sound like Mr. Baker,” Pocket said defeated.
Sigmund closed the door and shook his head. The two of them made their way carefully down the stairs, the sound of the rain hiding most of the noises they made. At each lightning flash, however, Sigmund felt uncomfortably exposed, but no one seemed to be about to see them. At the bottom of the steps they needed to find a spot that they could hide and wait. On the ground floor, there was a small alcove on the side of each stairway where it curved. It was the obvious spot and the best choice for the two of them.
At first, they stood in silence, trying to hear anything that would give away activity that didn’t belong. The storm caused a persistent thrumming sound throughout the asylum lobby making it difficult to hear anything that was not very loud or too close. Occasionally, one of them would step out from the alcove to see if they could spot any activity in the darkness. Each time they returned with nothing to report
After about twenty minutes, they switched from standing in the alcove to sitting. There was no telling how long, if at all, until someone might come along.
They didn’t talk much as they wanted to keep focused, but Charlotte couldn’t help but tell Sigmund, “Thank you for allowing me to help.”
They gave extra attention for a few moments, in case her words distorted something, and when it was clear that they hadn’t, Sigmund said, “I think it is the least I could do. Given what you have gone through to be here, and given our, somewhat, entwined past.”
Again, they were silent to make sure they weren’t missing something. Charlotte responded, “Sigmund, I am sorry for my…my blaming you. It has been a difficult several days.”
Sigmund nodded in the darkness and moved a little closer to Charlotte, partially to show that he had no hurt feelings and partially because it was cold. She didn’t move away as she probably appreciated the warmth too.
It was well over another hour until something caught their attention. They listened as they heard a metallic clack. After a second, there was another. Then another. It continued until it was clear that the noise was descending the very stairs that they were hiding next to. Sigmund would have liked to have stepped away from the alcove to get a glimpse, but it was too dangerous. He couldn’t risk being spotted – for he had to worry about himself and Charlotte.
The clacking sound stopped and they could hear a large breath being let out. Then, barely audible over the storm, a small squeak could be heard. Sigmund grabbed Charlotte’s wrist, both to let her know that this was probably what they were looking for, and to keep her from moving too soon.
He was surprised by her giving a muted ‘Ahhhh’ and by withdrawing her arm quickly from him. Sigmund looked at her to try and determine what was wrong and in the darkness he could see pain on her face and her putting her hand up to indicate that she was okay. Something was not right as she was taking steady heavy breaths to apparently calm herself.
Pushing this confusion to the side, Sigmund listened for the squeak. He thought he heard it again, but it was faint. He stood up and edged out of the alcove to see where the person, or persons, had gone. He was just in time to see the far left door, opposite the asylum entrance, close and a bit of a light getting fainter under it.
Signaling that it was safe to move, Charlotte joined him as he hurried towards where their target had went. He had never been through that door and didn’t know what to expect. Using hand signs and facial looks, he pointed at it and gave a questioning ex
pression. Charlotte shook her head. Either she didn’t understand or she didn’t know what was on the other side.
Putting his ear up against the door, Sigmund listened for activity and was rewarded by hearing another door close, a muted thunk, and then silence. He carefully tested the handle and found it to be unlocked. Quietly opening the door they were greeted by a hallway of darkness on the other side. There was no illumination other than what could make its way in through the doorway past them. A flash of lightning gave a snapshot view of the space, a small hallway with only two doors along its left wall.
Sigmund’s heart was pumping hard as the adrenaline was kicking in. He turned to Charlotte and asked, “Are you alright?” He had been in situations like this before, but she probably had not. He would not blame her if she wanted to stay behind.
He could see a slight nod of her head followed by the words, “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”