D_Whitby's Darkest Secret

by Chris Turnbull

  We had been through the front door less than a minute when Mr Walker the landlord appeared.

  ‘Good afternoon Sir, Madam, I trust Master Tom took good care of you today and your visit to the Bay was satisfactory?’ He smiled and shook Albert’s hand as he always did.

  ‘We had a splendid time, didn’t we darling, and Tom is a pure gentleman in the making.’ Albert always had a way with words. He could please anybody with his intellectual charm mixed with a cool brush of confidence, he was also the kind of man that everybody felt they could trust.

  As we turned towards the stairwell Mr Walker’s facial expression changed into a more serious and concerned outlook.

  ‘May I have a word with you Mr Summers, privately?’ He looked at me as though he did not mean to cause offence. Albert quickly gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me that he would follow me shortly. I was used to this kind of behaviour and headed for the staircase.

  It was another half an hour before Albert finally entered our room, in which time I had freshened up and changed into something less floral. Albert found me sitting at the desk looking out upon the street below; nothing particular was happening, but I had developed a love of watching people of all different walks of life going about their business.

  Albert did not look in the best of moods when he entered the room, I tried to ask if everything was alright but he seemed reluctant to discuss anything with me. I knew better than to push asking so I changed the subject.

  ‘Do you know what is being served for dinner this evening?’ It was only just approaching 4 o’clock but I was already beginning to feel hungry. The sandwiches and scones at the Victoria Hotel seemed such a long time ago already and the cold journey back to Whitby had me longing for something warm.

  ‘I have asked Mr Walker if we can eat early this evening as I have been requested to attend a meeting with some of the town council members at 6 o’clock.’ His casual attitude towards dropping that piece of information into conversation was almost laughable. I had no idea about the meeting until now yet I expected Albert would have known for some time.

  ‘Is that what Mr Walker wanted to speak to you about?’ I asked. I thought this was a good opportunity to push my luck a little. Albert paused and looked at me with caution. He knew I wanted to know and he also knew that I was smarter than to fall for any of his excuses.

  Albert began to undress; he too wanted to freshen up before dinner and change his clothing. At home we would rarely change in front of each other, however in the restrictions of the hotel room we didn’t have much choice. I did not mind though, Albert had a good body, he was muscular and had broad shoulders, his arms were strong and his chest had just the right amount of hair not to be considered too much.

  As Albert escaped to the bathroom my mind returned to food. We would normally have eaten around 6, but due to Albert’s meeting we were now due to eat at half past four. Whilst Albert finished getting ready he finally told me what Mr Walker had spoken to him about.

  ‘A girl has been found dead this morning around the corner from the Inn. My old friend on the Whitby council has asked me to sit in on this evenings meeting; I am unsure why, but I don’t feel I can refuse.’ Albert didn’t linger on this conversation for long, and swiftly moved onto another topic. I couldn’t help my thoughts wander back to the subject however. I could only imagine the horror the young girl must have faced.

  ‘I will not to be too late back, V, but stay indoors after dark for safety.’ He again kissed me, but this time, in the privacy of our room it was more passionately on the lips. His strong arms held me to his chest. He knew I would be upset about him leaving me.

  Dinner was over as quickly as it had begun. Albert was clearly eager to get away, and with a lack of other people in the small dining area our food arrived promptly. I was starting to wonder if any other guests were currently staying at the inn. I was still enjoying the delights of not cooking or cleaning, in fact I was beginning to think that more holidays should be considered.

  Albert left the White Horse and Griffin shortly after half past five; he assured me that he would be no more than a couple of hours before kissing my cheek and leaving. I hated to think it, but I did not believe him for a second; Albert has always been bad with time keeping, especially when it comes to social events. I knew not to worry, and that I would probably be tucked up in bed by the time he got back.

  I was not alone in our room long when a gentle knock could be heard from the bedroom door. I called out to enquire who it was and was pleased when Mr Walker announced himself. I opened the door to see him holding a large silver tray, upon which were a large pot of tea and a beautiful bone china cup. Albert had been in such a rush to leave that I decided to request my tea in our room instead. I stood to one side, allowing him to enter the room; he did not stay long, simply placing the tray upon the desk before politely excusing himself.

  ‘I hope this is satisfactory for you madam.’ He always spoke with such matter of fact, as though trying his best to please us. I nodded and thanked him for his kindness.

  ‘If you require anything further this evening Mrs Summers then please feel free to come downstairs and see me; if I am not at the bar than there is a small bell upon the counter that I can hear from my office.’ With that he gracefully bowed his head to gesture his farewell and left the room.

  As well as a pot of tea there was also a small plate of Carr’s cracker biscuits as well as a generous helping of cheese. I had not requested these, but I was thrilled to see them. I drank the tea quite quickly, and whilst doing so I continued to watch from the window, as people begin to head home as the shops were getting ready to close for the night.

  I suddenly remembered the library which I had seen whilst walking with Albert the day before. I had not brought a book of my own to Whitby but if I was going to be left numerous times whilst he attended meetings then maybe I should get one, I could return it before leaving at the end of the week.

  I had no idea what time the library closed, I presumed six o’clock, but I could not be sure. Looking at the clock positioned on the wall above the small fire surround in my room I could see it was already five forty. I had twenty minutes to get myself to the library and choose a book. I didn’t think this impossible. I grabbed a hat from the wardrobe and rushed down the narrow staircase into the bar area; as always the bar was deserted and Mr Walker was indeed nowhere to be seen. I hesitated. Should I ring the bell and inform Mr Walker that I was leaving, or even ask him if the library would be open? I caught sight of the clock on the wall behind the bar I could see I was already running out of time. It was approaching quarter to six so I did not have any time to lose. I dashed for the door and burst back onto the cold street.

  I walked briskly to the end of the road and in the direction of the swing bridge, I wanted so much to stop in the middle and admire the beautiful harbour that surrounded me, but I knew I did not have the time, I continued to walk as fast as I could; my breath a visible mist before me in the bitter cold evening air. My fingers were already beginning to feel numb as the gentle breeze coming from the sea nipped at my fingertips; I would normally have put on my gloves.

  I made it to the library with ten minutes to spare, a large sign upon the door read:

  Opening Times 9am – 6pm

  I hurried inside swiftly so as not to waste any more time; it was already nearly dark outside.

  Chapter 14

  D.

  I had spent most of the day away from the town centre. I usually stayed away for a couple of days after a kill, but knowing Victoria was somewhere among the crowd, exploring the town drew me to come back sooner. It was early evening when I made my way back, although I knew at this late hour Victoria would be back inside the protection of the inn.

  There was still a strange atmosphere running through the town. It was always the case when a murder had been reported. News always spreads fast through the small town. The town turns to whispers, people gossiping about the events of the previous night
and speculations are thrown around by those who believe they know the truth. As I continue through a narrow alleyway I caught a snippet of a conversation between two laundry women; talking opening and clearly not worried as to who may hear them in their loud abrasive tones.

  ‘He is losing the respect of the town if you ask me,’ the first woman stated, her voice matter of fact.

  ‘Detective Matthews can only do the best he can, I am sure he is doing everything within his power to catch this man,’ the second woman spoke in defence.

  ‘Well if you ask me my dear, Matthews has blood on his hands, this crazed man has been on the loose long enough and it is time the police try harder and stop this madness.’

  ‘I’m sure the police force is more than aware they need to act fast, Gladys, but it’s not a normal investigation after all now is it,’ The second woman tried to argue the case, yet her tone sounded very much like she agreed with her friend.

  ‘Either way Maude, this needs to be resolved fast, before people start leaving Whitby for good. I for one do not want to stay around knowing my daughter is in danger from a crazed lunatic on the loose.’

  I had heard enough and dashed through the shadowed alley. Is this really what people thought of me? A crazed man? A lunatic on the loose? They did not know the first thing about me. I was pleased however, to hear that Detective Matthews was no longer the golden boy of Whitby he once was.

  I didn’t even continue along Church Street to the White Horse and Griffin, and instead cut down through market square, down another lean alley and found myself by the waterside of the harbour, nestled between the buildings. I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed here, and hid myself in the shadows as I watched the numerous fishing boats opposite reloading their boats ready for the morning. It was then that I unexpectedly saw Victoria again; she was marching across the swing bridge at full speed. Her face serious as though determined to get someplace urgently, no longer admiring or taking in her surrounds as she once had. I watched her carefully to see which way she turned at the end of the bridge; as soon I saw her turn right along the harbour’s edge, in the direction of the West pier, I swiftly retreated back between the buildings and dashed along Sandgate towards Bridge Street. I was determined to get her back into view again as quickly as possible. As I reached the bridge I saw her continue walking against the harbour’s edge, I knew I could not get too close at this time but I made sure I kept up with her pace, she was still quite a distance in front of me and I was determined not to lose her. How had she managed to leave the inn without her husband, and at this late hour?

  Halfway along the street was a large bend. As Victoria disappeared around the corner I found myself speeding up to ensure that she didn’t stay out of sight for long. I continued to walk briskly along, growing more and more anxious about my finally meeting her. What would I say? What would be my opening line? My stomach began to dance with glee, yet at the same time worry overcame me. My thoughts continued to wander as I turned the corner and froze in shock; as I stood on the street’s bend I could now see all the way along the remainder of the street and down towards the pier, but Victoria was nowhere to be seen. How could I have lost her so easily? Where could she have gone? I scanned each shop window in turn as I hurtled down the street, checking all the small openings and passages between buildings. Nothing.

  I stood for a moment completely unsure where to turn next. Had she seen me following her?

  Chapter 15

  Victoria

  Upon entering the library I was instantly hit by the warmth of an enormous fireplace, it glowed and crackled in front of a charming little seated area, filled with armchairs and other forms of seating. Adjacent to the door was a small desk, not too dissimilar to a hotel reception desk. The lady behind the desk had not seen me walk in at first, and was startled when I spoke.

  ‘Is it possible for me to choose a book before you lock up?’ I asked approaching the desk. She began to chuckle as she held a hand against her beating heart.

  ‘Oh my dearest, you did make me jump. I don’t expect people to appear at this time of the day.’ I apologised for startling her before she introduced herself as Mrs Falcon.

  ‘You have a few minutes my love before I start to lock up.’ Her voice reminded me of a school teacher, she pronounced her words in the correct manner, and addressed me as though making sure I understood her clearly. I thanked her, and hurried off into the aisles of books, not really bothering to take notice of the genres I was surrounded by. The books were lined on enormous dark wooden shelves that lined up with hundreds of books per aisle. After glancing at a handful of books I finally chose one titled The Rise of Silas Lapham, a novel by an American writer named William Dean Howells, I had never heard of this author but from a quick flick through some pages I could see it was firmly set in America, and I had always enjoyed reading stories which were set in other countries. I knew I didn’t have time to search out any more and took it with me back to the desk to check it out.

  I thanked Mrs Falcon for her kindness. I realised I had kept her a couple of minutes beyond 6pm, and quickly left so as not to take up any more of her time.

  Back onto the now quiet street I felt the silence hit me as I stood on the harbour side. What were once busy streets had now become desolate and abandoned, and in such a short space of time. The sun had set and the final strands of light were being drained out of the sky. Darkness was again falling over Whitby, and the grey clouds above drained the streets of colour.

  As I turned toward the direction of the inn I remembered the old lighthouse at the end of the pier. I had wanted to see it lit up, but from this angle I could not quite see it. I knew Albert would be angry if he knew I was out after dark, but I thought if I was quick that he should never find out.

  I walked quickly in the direction of the pier. I didn’t want to stay out too long as the evening air was getting bitterly cold again and a dampness in the air suggested rain was not too far away. I did not have the appropriate attire to be going around outside in the cold, and the last thing I needed was to get caught in the rain.

  Upon reaching the start of the pier I had a perfect view of the lighthouse which stood proudly at the end, from my spot I could also see the smaller lighthouse perched on the adjacent pier. But to my disappointment the light was not on. I thought this rather odd at first, but realised that maybe I was slightly early; it was not completely dark yet.

  I had planned to stand and wait for a couple more minutes, but standing still in the cold only made me colder, so I decided to walk slowly along the pier to keep moving and hopefully keep warm. If the light had not turned on by the time I reached the end I would head straight back. The pier was so much longer than I had remembered; I felt exposed on the vast stone built walkway that lined the mouth of the river. It sat perfectly between the river and sea as though balancing between the two; on one side the river gently flowed by, and on the other the waves crashed against the stone body of the pier below.

  I had nearly made it to the lighthouse, and was about to give up hope of seeing the light when suddenly, as if by magic, it surged into life and began to rotate, the beam hitting the town before sending out a large stream of light across the vast dark watery landscape.

  I reached the lighthouse and continued the handful of steps more until I reached the pier edge. I watched in fascination as the light above me swooped over the darkened horizon, bouncing off the cliffs and scanning the dark waters beyond. It was like a watery desert, empty and hostile. Standing alone at the end of the pier felt as though I was the only person in the entire world, and the lighthouse was putting on a magnificent show just for me.

  An unexpected sound coming from behind me caused me to jump and brought me back from my own thoughts; and when I turned to look I saw a man standing only a couple of yards away. I struggled to make out any features at first; his long black coat almost resembled a cape and his tall hat placed his face into shadow. I paused; my heart began to beat faster as I started to stutter looking for t
he words to come. My thoughts feared the worst, and the memory of the man staring up at my window suddenly filled my head. Could this be that man?

  He must have seen the terror in my face as he soon broke the silence.

  ‘You should not be alone out here, especially in the dark.’ His voice was deep yet there was also a slight hesitation in the way in which he spoke to me.

  ‘I know,’ I replied, ‘I was just heading back to my lodgings.’ I began to walk back along the pier. I had no idea who this man was but I was certainly not going to wait around long enough to find out. I continued to walk and he took a step back allowing me to pass. However my own clumsiness soon showed itself when I tried to walk so fast and tripped over my own dress, landing on the ground with a large thud. The gentleman standing by came to my rescue and helped me back to my feet.

  ‘Are you alright, Miss? Please be careful in the darkness, it is easy to trip and not see the unevenness of the pier.’ I smiled and thanked him for helping me from the ground. He guided me to a bench situated in the centre of the walk way, I gladly took the seat where I was able to catch my breath.

  ‘Do not worry.’ The man spoke to me with a gentle tone, his voice husky. ‘I will not hurt you, but I do think I should escort you back to your Inn; Whitby is not a safe place to be walking in the dark.’ He smiled at me, a warm smile that instantly made me feel safe with him. Sitting so close I could now see his face more clearly; his large eyes looked grey in the dim light, and shone every time the lighthouse light passed us. His relaxed smile caused small dimples to appear on his cheeks, and he had a small amount of facial hair that was styled around his chin. He must have been no older than thirty.