A Fatal Journey

by Blythe Baker

  As the evening wore on, even Mrs. Hutchins grew tired of all the attention and stood up from the sofa with a great deal more effort than was necessary.

  “Rose, could you help me to my room?” she asked, holding out a hand. “I need to rest.”

  I wrapped an arm around her waist and began escorting her towards the stairs when I felt a presence behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Lieutenant Collins following us.

  “I do not believe your assistance will be required, Lieutenant. I can help Mrs. Hutchins just fine on my own,” I said.

  “No, no. Do come, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Hutchins said. “I’d like for you to check the upstairs for me.”

  “Check for what exactly?” I asked.

  “I was just attacked, Rose,” she bit back. “I am more than a little uneasy sleeping alone in my room. It would comfort me greatly to have the room looked over first.”

  “I’m happy to help in any way I can,” Lieutenant Collins said, sounding as unflappably helpful as ever.

  What was his aim? He had stuck close to me all evening, not allowing me out of his direct line of sight. Was he planning to attack me inside the bungalow with servants watching? Did he think I was going to jump from a second story window and disappear into the night?

  Then, I was struck with a realization. Lieutenant Collins knew I had found him out. He knew I suspected him of playing some role in the attack, and he was afraid I would tell someone if I was left alone long enough. I shivered, the hairs standing up on the back of my neck, but I did my best to act natural just as I had all evening. I had to formulate a plan.

  “The doctor told you not to sleep on your back,” Mr. Barlow called from the bottom of the stairs. “And to prop yourself up to a seated position.”

  “Rose remembers all of that,” Mrs. Hutchins said, waving away Mr. Barlow. “Don’t you Rose?”

  In fact, I didn’t. I hadn’t listened to a word the doctor had said while he was in the house examining Mrs. Hutchins. I’d been far too focused on studying Lieutenant Collins.

  “I need to speak with Mr. Hutchins, anyway. I’ll come help you get settled,” Mr. Barlow said, moving silently up the stairs behind us.

  “Honestly, you all are making such a fuss over me. I’m so embarrassed,” Mrs. Hutchins said, a pleased smile spreading across her face.

  As I kept Mrs. Hutchins steady and upright—a task she certainly could have accomplished on her own—Lieutenant Collins thoroughly checked behind every curtain, inside the closet, and underneath her bed. He shook the windows in their frames to be sure they were locked tight and pulled the drapes closed. Mr. Barlow laid a towel down on the bed and once again reminded Mrs. Hutchins not to lie on her back, to keep three pillows under her at all times, and to have a servant change her wrapping first thing in the morning to avoid infection. Then, we stepped into the hallway and left Mrs. Hutchins to herself.

  The three of us made an unusual, uncomfortable group. I wanted only to be alone to try and gather my thoughts and formulate a plan about how to deal with Lieutenant Collins, but Lieutenant Collins refused to leave me alone. And Mr. Barlow, who had said he needed to speak with his employer hadn’t made a single move towards Arthur’s study door, but instead was straightening the rug that ran the length of the hallway. When he finished that, he stood up and looked at me briefly before crossing his arms and blinking his round, sunken eyes twice.

  “Do you think she will be all right for the evening by herself?” Mr. Barlow asked me. “I am worried she may roll over in her sleep and hurt the wound.”

  “It is only a shallow cut,” I said, surprised by his concern. “I’m sure she will be fine.”

  He nodded, unconvinced, and then raised his eyebrows high, stretching his face into a long, thin mask. “Perhaps, you should stay in her room for the night, Miss Beckingham. That way someone would be there should she wake in the night and need anything.”

  When had Mr. Barlow come to care so much for Mrs. Hutchins’ comfort? In the short time I’d known him, I hadn’t seen him express anything other than utter indifference towards Arthur and his mother. Now, suddenly, he worried about Mrs. Hutchins rolling in her sleep in the night.

  He was still looking at me, eyes wide and probing, waiting for my response. Was it possible his concern came from a deeper place than just an employee caring for the mother of his employer? Could Mr. Barlow, perhaps…like Mrs. Hutchins? The thought was almost laughable, and in fact, I had to suppress a smile.

  “I am only down the hall. Should she call in the night, I’ll hear her,” I said.

  “Besides,” Lieutenant Collins said more sternly than was necessary, “that kind of thing is why the family employs servants. Rose should not have to sit up all night to care for Mrs. Hutchins. She should sleep in her own bed.”

  Mr. Barlow grimaced at the Lieutenant for only a second before resuming his apathetic mask. “Of course. Forgive me, Miss. It has been a long night.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for,” I said, giving him a small smile.

  “Were you not going to speak with Mr. Hutchins about some matter?” Lieutenant Collins asked.

  Mr. Barlow bowed with a sigh and turned to knock on Arthur’s study door. After being welcomed inside, he stepped through the door and met my eyes once more before closing it behind him.

  Lieutenant Collins took a step closer to me, and I was painfully aware of how small the hallway was. He couldn’t very well attack me in the space between two doors, behind which were Mrs. Hutchins and then Arthur and Mr. Barlow. But still, his closeness was threatening.

  “I think I also need to rest,” I said, moving down the hall towards my room without turning around.

  “I shall treat you the way I treated Mrs. Hutchins,” he said, following me down the hallway.

  For one terrifying second, I thought he was referring to the knife wound in her back, and I spun around, heart racing.

  “I shall check your room before you go to sleep,” he continued. Then, he saw my face and stepped closer, eyes narrowed. “Is everything all right, Rose?”

  “Yes. Absolutely fine.”

  “It is all right to be frightened,” he said, laying a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

  I moved backwards towards my door, stepping out of his reach once again. “I’m not frightened. Only tired.”

  Lieutenant Collins nodded in understanding. “Of course. Allow me to check your room and then you should get some rest. It has been a very exciting day for you.”

  He seemed to be making reference to more than just the evening’s activities, probably thinking of our lunch at the White Tiger Club along with our meeting in the afternoon when I’d showed him the kukri. I wanted to tell him it had been an eventful day for him, too. Between following me to the White Tiger Club, attacking Mrs. Hutchins, and spending his evening in the Hutchins’ bungalow plotting how to get me alone, he had been quite busy. But I held my tongue.

  “That really isn’t necessary,” I said, opening my door and stepping inside, attempting to push it closed.

  Lieutenant Collins slid his boot between the door and the frame, keeping me from closing it. “Please, Rose. It will take only a moment. I truly must insist.”

  With that, he pushed my door open and stepped inside. I backed away from him, wishing I hadn’t come upstairs at all. Perhaps, I should have taken up the offer made by Mr. Barlow to sleep in Mrs. Hutchins’ room. Thinking I was safe alone in my own room for the night with the Lieutenant sleeping under the same roof had been foolish.

  Lieutenant Collins smiled at me as he pushed the door closed behind him. We were finally alone.

  14

  I looked around the room for a weapon of any kind. Something sharp, heavy, easy to swing. But there was nothing. I’d travelled to Simla with very few personal items, and the room had been mostly empty when I’d arrived. The kukri I’d stolen from the hut was beyond my reach, shut in a locked trunk at the foot of the bed. The key to the lock was inside t
he desk drawer. I wouldn’t have time to get the key and unlock the trunk before Lieutenant Collins was upon me.

  “Forgive my insistence, Rose,” Lieutenant Collins said, beginning to walk along the edge of my room. “After seeing the blood on the front porch and thinking it belonged to you, I want to do whatever I can to ensure you are safe.”

  My heart thundered against my ribs, and I hoped the Lieutenant couldn’t hear it. “Mrs. Hutchins was the victim, so there is really nothing to worry about.”

  Lieutenant Collins pulled open my closet and checked inside. Finding it empty, he turned back to me and shook his head. “Rose, I know you do not believe that.”

  “You think you know my mind better than I do?” I asked.

  He smiled, tilting his head to the side. I hated how kind he still looked. “Of course not. I only mean that you are a smart woman, and I’m sure you’ve come to the same conclusion I have.”

  This was it. He was going to confess, and I had no idea how I would respond. “And what conclusion would that be?”

  He rattled my window the same way he had Mrs. Hutchins’. “That Mrs. Hutchins was mistaken for you. Someone came here in search of you and found her instead.”

  “That seems like quite the stretch,” I said. Perhaps, if I pretended his theory was beyond the realm of possibility, he would believe I didn’t truly suspect him.

  He turned to me, face stern. “I know you’ve been lying to me about the reason you came back to Simla.”

  I could feel sweat gathering along my back. Everything inside of me told me to run, but my feet wouldn’t move.

  “You say you are looking for closure, but your search is much too focused for something so general,” he said. “I do not know exactly what you are searching for, but I know you have been asking around about General Hughes’ suicide and I know you went to speak with Elizabeth Hughes.”

  “Have you been following me?” I asked. How could I have missed him? I prided myself on being observant, on noticing small details. How could I have allowed myself to be followed?

  He shook his head. “No, but I know a lot of people in this city, and I’ve been worried about you, Rose.”

  “You do not need to worry about me,” I snapped.

  “Yes, I do,” he said. “You do not know what you are getting yourself involved in. I know you endured a tragedy few can imagine when your family was killed, but involving yourself in other deaths and trying to find a murderer where there isn’t one will not bring your family back to you. I worry that by asking questions about the wrong people, you will get yourself in trouble.”

  Once again, Lieutenant Collins didn’t want me to investigate any further. Not into the death of General Hughes or into the bombing that killed the Beckinghams. How had I not understood his motives sooner?

  “Do you know who those ‘wrong people’ might be, Lieutenant?”

  Lieutenant Collins stepped forward, and I just knew he would confess. This would be the moment when I would have to decide if I was going to scream and beg for help from Mr. Barlow or Arthur Hutchins, or if I was going to fight off Lieutenant Collins by myself.

  “If I knew who they were, I wouldn’t be so worried about you. I know it may seem too soon for such a declaration, but I care for you very deeply, Rose.”

  I stood frozen in the middle of the room, unsure of what to say.

  The Lieutenant sighed. “Please do not feel the need to respond now. You have been through a difficult day, and I swore to myself I would not bombard you with my feelings. I just need you to know that my concern for you is not because I believe you are incapable of handling yourself. On the contrary, I believe you are an incredibly strong, capable woman. Rather, after the traumas you have already endured, I want a simple life for you,” he said, taking small steps towards me. “Perhaps, a life with me.”

  Lieutenant Collins was getting closer to me, and I had the overwhelming sense that he was going to kiss me. It was the last thing I wanted, but I felt incapable of escaping the situation. If I refused him, I didn’t know how he would respond. Would he drop his charade and confess his crimes? Or was he still trying to play the role of my loyal new friend? Too many thoughts and possibilities swirled in my mind, making it impossible to make a decision.

  He was only a few steps from me now, and I stared at him, eyes wide, heart racing. I needed a second to collect myself, to wade through the tumultuous sea of emotions raging inside of me. But there was no time. No escape.

  “Oh, Rose!” I heard my name through the wall and it took me a few seconds to realize it was coming from the room next door. From Mrs. Hutchins’ room. “Are you still awake, dear?”

  Lieutenant Collins looked towards the wall and sighed, squeezing his eyes shut for a second, disappointed. I, however, was elated.

  “Mrs. Hutchins needs me. Thank you for checking the room, Lieutenant. I will see you in the morning.” I dashed from the room, down the hall, and into the room of Mrs. Hutchins.

  The woman simply needed me to pull her covers up over her.

  “Leaning forward to grab the blankets puts an awful strain on my wound, and I’m afraid I may pull it open again. And lying on my side like this does not help. My hips are already aching,” she complained.

  I nodded in fake sympathy, wishing she would be quiet so I could hear what was happening in the hallway better. I needed to make sure Lieutenant Collins had left my room. If he did not leave, I would spend the night in Mrs. Hutchins’ room whether she wanted me to or not. I refused to step back into an enclosed space with him. I couldn’t handle it.

  Mrs. Hutchins helped me procrastinate by asking me to straighten the blankets she thought were bunched around her feet, to switch out one of her three pillows for another she felt was fluffier, and tip her glass into her mouth so she could have a sip of water. It was as she was drinking from the glass, finally quiet after several minutes of vapid conversation, that I heard my bedroom door close softly and footsteps move down the hallway and down the stairs. Lieutenant Collins was gone.

  “Is that all you need, Mrs. Hutchins?”

  The woman looked around the room, probably in search of another mundane task I could assist her with, but evidently could think of nothing left. She sighed, disappointed. “I think so, dear. Thank you so much for caring for me so diligently. I think of you as a daughter, you know?”

  “That is very sweet,” I said, beginning to understand why Arthur Hutchins walked around with a perpetual frown on his face. “I hope you sleep well. I’ll be just on the other side of the wall should you need anything.”

  I poked my head into the hallway to be sure the Lieutenant wasn’t waiting for me out there, and then closed Mrs. Hutchins’ door and walked towards my own. It was open just a crack, and I looked through it before entering. The room was truly empty. Quickly, I dashed into my room and locked the door behind me. Just as Lieutenant Collins had done before confessing his “feelings” for me, I walked the perimeter of the room, checking my closet, behind every curtain, and under the bed. After several minutes, I finally felt confident I was alone and dropped onto the edge of my bed, exhausted.

  Lieutenant Collins had been right when he’d said I’d had a busy day. I’d planned for the evening to be a relaxing one where I would read and then turn in early, but that was far from how things had turned out. Instead, I’d spent most of the evening making Mrs. Hutchins comfortable and had learned the one person in all of Simla I’d considered a friend had actually been an enemy. I needed a solid night’s sleep before I could even begin to figure out what to do next.

  Too exhausted to change out of my clothes, I closed my eyes and lay back on the bed. However, as I lay back, I heard something crinkle beneath me. I sat up at once and turned to see a piece of paper lying in the center of the bed. It appeared to be blank.

  I couldn’t remember whether it had been on the bed earlier in the evening or not. I certainly didn’t remember putting it there. As I picked it up, light from the lamp next to my bed passed through
it, and I could see that there were words scribbled on the other side. The handwriting was not mine.

  My heart lodged itself in my throat, and I took a deep breath before turning the piece of paper over, preparing myself for whatever I would find. Before I could even read the words, I knew that my eventful day had just become even more so. Any possibility of sleep would be gone as soon as I read the message. But that didn’t matter. I had to read it. I had to know.

  I turned the paper over and gasped.

  You already know too much.

  15

  I shut the note away in the desk drawer as though putting it out of my sight would make it not real.

  It was a threat. That much was obvious. But why? Lieutenant Collins could have spoken the words to me when we’d been alone in my room together. Why had he waited to leave the threat until I was next door assisting Mrs. Hutchins? Was it just an attempt to scare me and keep me from investigating further? Or was it a promise of more violence to come? A warning?

  I paced around my room until well past midnight. Until the noise of servants and the other occupants in the house faded to silence. Until the only noise I could hear was my own footsteps on the floor.

  Where was Lieutenant Collins in the house? There had been little discussion of where he would stay. I knew of a guest room at the back of the house, which seemed the most likely place. But even if that was his room, would he have remained there? Or, was he creeping up the stairs at that very moment, headed for my room? I’d locked my bedroom door, but if he wanted inside, he could find a way.

  I couldn’t remain in the house another minute.

  But I also couldn’t leave.

  Where would I go? I didn’t know anyone else in the city. Miss Dayes was an acquaintance who had seemed fond enough of me to allow me to stay with her for a brief time, but I had no idea where she lived. I knew where Elizabeth Hughes lived, but she hadn’t wanted to speak to me under normal circumstances, so I knew she wouldn’t want my company once I was on the run from the assassin who had probably killed her father as well as the Beckinghams.