by Quinn Loftis
“You read the note, Foster. He wanted us to catch him. Follow me.”
Inspector Hill hesitated at the top of the wooden staircase, Foster standing directly behind him. He could feel the large man’s breath on the back of his neck, the tension in the man’s body palpable. Thomas didn’t fear for his safety; Jackson would never harm him, of that he was sure. However, mere hours ago, he was sure Jackson would never hurt anyone. Hill struggled internally. Could it be true? It couldn’t possibly be true. There had to be some other explanation. But deep down, Hill knew there wasn’t. Jackson had left him this trail. He wanted his friend to find him. Quietly, as if creeping into the terminal ward of a hospital, Thomas resignedly descended the steps. Foster, sensing the man’s trepidation, followed stealthily along. How long did that descent take? Seconds, minutes, hours? Hill couldn’t be sure. It felt as if he was descending into another world, into another time and place. He knew, unquestionably, his life would somehow change forever as soon as he hit the bottom step.
“You are nothing if not predictable, old friend.” Thomas heard Jackson’s voice as he stepped through the threshold into Dr. Elliot’s underground workroom. Hill and Foster took in the scene before them. The small, square room was littered with machinery and medical equipment in equal measure. Whether these were the macabre machinations of a madman, or instruments of healing, Thomas didn’t know. In numb shock, Thomas scanned the room, noticing his sister’s wedding dress, hastily torn and discarded, resting across a grimy anvil, bits of metal slag scattered about the floor all around it.
There, against the opposite wall, lay the owner the dress. Sophia was lying on her back in a comfortable hospital bed, appearing to all the world as if she were having the most pleasant of dreams. An intravenous tube delivered a liquid of unknown origin into her arm. Reclining in a chair next to her, the fingers of his hand entwined with Sophia’s, sat Jackson. He was still in his tuxedo, minus his tailed coat and hat, which Hill now noticed lay crumpled in a corner not far from Sophia’s dress. Blood stained his shirt and vest, and tears streamed down his cheeks. Seeing his sister laying there broke something in the inspector.
“Get the hell away from my sister!” Thomas yelled, lunging across the room.
A large arm wrapped around his waist, pinning him in place.
“Hold, Inspector,” barked Foster, practically lifting the flailing Hill off the ground. “Ya said he would come without a fight.”
“He’s killed her!”
“When you left her with me to rest, you already knew that she would not live,” said Elliot calmly. “You’d resigned yourself never to see your sister again after the wedding. But here she lies, alive again, and as whole as she could possibly be under the circumstances.”
“He’s not killed her,” said Foster. “Look at her chest. She’s breathing. And I don’t think there’d be any need ’a the medicine tube if she was dead.”
Thomas stopped for a second and examined his sister closer. She did seem to be breathing, but for how long, he didn’t know. Still, the sight of Jackson, whom he now knew without question had murdered three women, sitting so close to his sister, touching her hand, was more than he could take.
“Let me go,” he growled to Foster, venom in his voice.
“Can’t do that, boss,” replied John. “Not ‘til I’m sure you won’t do nothing stupid.”
“Assistant Inspector John Foster, release me this instant, or I swear I’ll make it my personal mission to see you off the force and make sure Olivia never speaks or thinks of you again. Do you understand me, sir?”
“You do what ya must to me, Inspector Hill. But I’ll not let ya do anything rash until we’ve heard the man out. Your own position with the Yard is worth too much. You’re a damn good inspector, and I won’t have that flushed away ’cause you’re not in your right mind.”
Jackson took Sophia’s hand and placed it lightly on top of her other, which was resting on her stomach. He stood and very gently placed his hands on either side of her face, as if she was the most precious possession he’d ever held, and placed a kiss upon her porcelain forehead. “I wish you a long and happy life, my love, even though I cannot share it with you,” he told her in a voice that could not deny the depth of emotion he felt for her. Jackson took a deep breath, released Sophia’s face, and stood to his full height. When he looked up and confronted the struggling inspector, his face held only resolve. There was no remorse and no regret. He’d done what he felt he had to do in order to save Sophia, even to the extent of taking the lives of others.
“Do what you came to do, Thomas, but please don’t take your ire out on your assistant. He is a true friend to you, and your quarrel lies with me alone. He has helped you find out the truth, no doubt. For that, at least, he should be commended, not reprimanded. As for your sister, she is not dead. And won’t be any time soon, I hope.”
Thomas seemed to deflate like a balloon, going limp in Foster’s arms. The larger man released his grip and now seemed to be supporting his superior, rather than restraining him.
“What have you done to her?” Thom asked weakly.
“My very best. I can only hope that it’s enough.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve placed one of those infernal devices into her,” said Hill, pulling out of Foster’s grasp and rushing over to where his sister lay, putting the hospital bed between Jackson and himself. He stared down at her, shock still widening his eyes. He pulled down the top of the gown, revealing the beginnings of a long incision, recently resewn. He recoiled with a gasp.
Memories washed over Thomas like a flood. He saw himself with Jackson, twelve-year-old boys once again, chasing each other over his father’s estate. He saw them playing games, wrestling, arguing. There was no closer friend, closer than a brother even. The Jackson he’d known could never do something like this.
Then he saw Jackson and Sophia together. He remembered how she’d looked at Jackson, smitten, before the boy had left for the war and returned a man. The look only intensified after he’d returned, growing from infatuation to true love. But that was before she’d abandoned all hope to her disease, destroying any happy future the two might have had together. The light in her eyes had died then, forever, Thomas had thought. Then Thomas remembered how the light had returned to his sister during her recent courtship with Jackson, culminating in their happy wedding only hours ago, a tragic end to their bittersweet romance. It had all been based upon a sickening lie.
“You’re a madman,” he raised his head and said at last.
“Perhaps,” replied the doctor, “but what is love but a form of madness?”
“She wouldn’t have wanted this.” Hill took a shaky breath before he spoke again. “She’ll hate you. You know she will. She would never allow someone else to give their life for her.”
“Of that, I have no doubt, but at least the world will still have her—her light, her purity, her brilliance. I cannot believe that it was her time to die, not when I had the knowledge to save her life. I simply needed the means, the tools in which to perform the procedure. And I regret that my mechanical hearts have meant the destruction of a few unfortunate souls. I am sorry that there was no other way to perfect the design. But I would not change my actions, not one them. If it meant I could save Sophia, I would burn down the whole of London and then continue on to the British countryside. Did not Menelaus call upon a thousand ships and wage an entire war for his beloved queen? I’ve no doubt Helen’s loveliness pales in comparison to Sophia’s.”
“Blimey,” murmured Foster.
“I’ve made my bargain—with the cosmos, the devil, or God himself, I’m not sure, but the deal has been struck. My life, and the lives of three women, for Sophia’s. Now please, listen to me carefully. I’ve a friend at St. Edward’s, a nurse, Juliette Thompson. Bring her here. She will know what to do. If my calculations are correct, she will only need fluids and rest to in order to make a full recovery. If additional medical care is necessary, Juliette will see to it. So
phia should begin to wake up in a few hours, as the drugs in her system wear off.”
“Why would you do this, Jackson?” asked Thomas, his voice almost a whisper. “Knowing that you would lose her anyway.”
“Isn’t that easy to see, brother? One of us, Sophia or me, had to leave this life. If I were to have let her die, what then? Could I go on living without her? Could I walk the streets of London as if the other half of my soul weren’t gone forever? Could I go on playing darts and working at my medical practice like nothing had happened? What kind of life is that? One worse than death. I would have been a ghost. She was running out of time. Had I failed to save her, I would still have given myself up willingly. No—more than willingly. I would have begged you to take me, to allow me the mercy of the hangman’s noose, so I could join her in whatever waits us on the other side. I go to the gallows now with confidence, that my beloved lives on. She is goodness and kindness and gentleness—everything that is right with this world.”
No one said anything for several minutes. Each of the men stared at Sophia, lying like the sleeping princess in a long-lost fairytale, waiting for her prince to come along and waken her with a magical kiss.
Finally, Foster broke the silence. “You stay here, Inspector. I’ll escort Dr. Elliot to the gaol, then I’ll go find this Nurse Thompson.” He stepped up to Dr. Elliot and took him by the arm.
“Thomas, tell her that I love her,” said Jackson as he allowed himself to be escorted out of the laboratory and up the stairs. Thomas just stared at his friend in response as he and Foster disappeared out the room.
Jackson paused at the top of the stairs. “May I have a word, please, Mr. Foster, before we continue further.”
“Don’t see what that would hurt,” responded the assistant inspector, turning to face Elliot.
“I know you don’t owe me anything, but I also know that you are a good man. The Hills will need your support in the coming days, not just Thomas and Sophia, but Olivia as well. Please look after them for me.”
“Aye, of course,” replied John, grinning in spite of himself at the mention of Olivia’s name. “I can’t say what you did was right, doctor, but … but I understand it. I’ll look after them like they was my own family.”
Inspector Hill sat in the same chair that only an hour ago his best friend had occupied. His eyes were glued to his sister, and yet it wasn’t her he was seeing. His mind was focused on the revelation Jackson had so willingly given him. He was wrestling with his own morals as he continued to consider the words of the doctor who loved Sophia so desperately. Could he hate his friend for saving his sister? Could he hate him for killing those innocent women but be grateful to him at the same time for keeping Sophia alive? He didn’t know the correct answer to those questions. Two days ago, he would have told you with all the conviction in the world that there was no justification for taking an innocent person’s life. But now … now his sense of right and wrong was twisted up with the beliefs of a man willing to do anything to save the woman he loved.
Thomas wanted it to be black and white. He liked it when things made sense, when there was a clear definition of right and wrong. This didn’t feel black and white to him. It felt muddled, holding so many colors that they were no longer distinguishable.
“She’s alive!”
Oliva’s voice snapped Thomas out of the rabbit hole his mind was pulling him into, and he looked up to see his youngest sister hurrying across the room. He hadn’t even heard her descending the wooden steps. Apparently, she hadn’t heeded his command not to return to Jackson’s house. Not surprising.
“Sophia.” Olivia breathed out, her hand going to her sister’s face. He watched as Olivia softly touched their younger sister’s cheek. Sophia looked peaceful, and as beautiful as ever. Thomas could see the relief in Olivia’s face as she looked down at Sophia’s chest, watching it rising and falling. Then he saw the confusion register. After all, Sophia had been at death’s door when they’d left her in Jackson’s care after the wedding. How was she lying here looking better than she’d looked in months?
“How?” she asked. “How is this possible?” Olivia never took her eyes off her sister. She leaned over Sophia and pressed a kiss to her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, apparently trying to reassure herself that her sister was indeed still in this life.
Thomas took a deep breath. He hadn’t mentally prepared himself for this discussion. He’d been too busy trying to come to terms with it himself. How was he supposed to explain it to Olivia when he didn’t understand and refused to accept the means behind their sister’s miraculous healing?
“You might want to sit down for this,” he told her and motioned to a chair near the door. She walked over, grabbed the chair, and pulled it across the room, planting herself across from him and next to Sophia.
“Thomas, you look as though you’re in shock. Perhaps you should see a doctor before you explain anything? Where’s Jackson? Why isn’t he here watching over her? Is he—”
“Olivia, stop,” Hill said, interrupting her barrage of questions. “I don’t need a doctor, and if I did, I wouldn’t be calling on Jackson Elliot.” He held up his hand to keep her from commenting. He just had to lay it out there for her before he lost his nerve. There was no gentle way to break this to his sister. “Jackson confessed to the murders of the three women.” She gasped and began to reply, but he held up his hand to stop her. He plowed on quickly, needing to get it all out, to have someone else who cared for Jackson the way he did have to share in the moral dilemma he was facing. “He invented a mechanical heart in an attempt to save Sophia. He abducted three women and tested the device on them. He needed to ensure the components were correct before he operated on Sophia.”
“It worked?” Olivia asked, as shock and hope warred for control over her emotions.
“Olivia!” He snapped. “He murdered three innocent women. He lied to us and to Sophia. He pretended to be a good man, a man worthy of her, and I believed him,” Thomas choked out. The emotions he’d managed to shove behind the wall, the wall he’d created in order to effectively do his job, came crumbling down. “My best friend, the man she loved, played God and decided Sophia’s life was worth than those women. Sophia would never, in a million years, want anyone to give their life for hers. He’s ruined everything. He’s going to destroy her when she finds out, and then it won’t even matter that he saved her because she will live with the guilt of the deaths of those women. What kind of monster does that?”
Thomas broke emotionally as his younger sister looked on. His words must be shocking to her. How could they not be? They both knew that no one’s life should be deemed more worthy than another’s. And yet it was their sister. Could he honestly be angry that Jackson had found a way to keep her alive?
“Would you rather she be dead right now?” Olivia asked. Thomas flinched at her question, fighting his sense of duty as a cop versus his feelings as a brother.
After several minutes, he shook his head. “No, no I wouldn’t.” Thomas wished that he could hate Jackson Elliot, but he couldn’t. He’d found a way to keep Sophia alive, and he couldn’t say that he would rather she be dead and those other women alive. And that made him sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t deny it any more than he could deny his love for either of his sisters.
“I’m not sorry,” Olivia said, her words forceful. “Is it tragic that those women had lost their life? Yes, it is. But people die for other people all of the time. Soldiers in war die for people they don’t know, some of whom are not appreciative in the least for their sacrifice. I, at least, can be thankful that their lives had been given to save our sister.”
“They weren’t given, Olivia! They were stolen. No one has that right,” interrupted Thomas.
“What did they really offer to society?” she responded. “They slept with men that were the husbands of other women. They lured young men into their dens and made the act that should be reserved for marriage into one of perversion. Did they truly offer
more to the world than Sophia? Would they have been self-sacrificing for others, giving of their time to the poor or sitting with the elderly to keep them company as their life came to its ultimate conclusion? Sophia will make this sick world a better place. Those women drained light from any who came near them. No, I did not know them personally, nor do I know what drove them to their profession, but that doesn’t change the fact that they were perverse and willing to destroy men and their families for some coin.”
Thomas began to respond, but a small voice caused him to snap his lips shut.
“Jackson.”
Sophia’s voice was a whisper. It was soft, but it was there. Her eyes were shifting under the closed lids that were beginning to flutter as she struggled to open them. Thomas held his breath as he stood and moved into Sophia’s field of vision, so she would be able to see him when she finally succeeded. Olivia moved to stand across from him, and they both waited expectantly, eager to see if Jackson’s heart transplant had been a success.
“Sophia, can you hear me?” Olivia asked gently as she took her sister’s hand. She squeezed it and nearly laughed with joy when Sophia squeezed back.
“Yes, I can hear you,” Sophia said weakly, finally opening her eyes. She blinked several times, apparently adjusting to the brightness of the room. She looked around, her eyes finally landing on Thomas and Olivia standing on either side of her bed. “Where’s Jackson?” she asked, attempting to sit up. Instead she made a small gasp of pain and fell back. “What was that?” she asked breathlessly as she placed her hand to her chest where the sharp pain had pierced her. “Why am I hurting so badly?”
“Just relax, Soph,” Thomas told his sister, noticing that her color was pink and rosy. She was glowing, as though life was being flooded back into the tissue, muscles, and skin that had been devoid of it for so long. “Can you breathe okay?”
“I can breathe fine, but my chest feels as though it’s been cracked open.”