D_Whitby's Darkest Secret

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D_Whitby's Darkest Secret Page 13

by Chris Turnbull


  I was abruptly woken by a large popping noise, but I soon realised it was a large wooden wedge cracking within the roaring fire. I found it difficult to fall back to sleep after that; the events of what were to come started racing through my mind, the images of events that were yet to come. Of all the cases I have ever been involved with, this was by far the worst. Never before in Whitby has a victim been set up as bait. Was I doing the right thing?

  I spent the remainder of the afternoon at home, although I could not settle. My stomach felt twisted and uneasy, and my head began to throb with pain. I began pacing the house, constantly looking out of the windows as I passed them. My small terraced house only has two windows looking out to the front of the house, the living room which sees only the small road outside, and the bedroom window on the first floor which is just high enough to see over the houses opposite, and the view across towards St Mary’s Church, and the magnificent Abbey. As I paced my worrying intensified. Was I setting Mrs Summers up for tragedy? Was I doing this for my own personal benefit so as not to be thrown off the case and deemed a failure throughout the town?

  I went into my dark narrow kitchen and pulled out a bottle of whisky I hide under the sink for emergencies. Poured myself a rather large helping, and finished it in one mouthful. My self-doubt began to fade slightly and my nerves eased. I had a duty to the people of Whitby. If I let Mrs Summers leave town then who knows if another victim would be released as she had been. Who knows how many more women would have to die before this D was finally stopped? It was certainly a risk asking this of Mrs Summers, but I started to forgive myself into thinking it was the best possible way to bring this madness to an end.

  There was suddenly a knocking at the door. I froze with shock. I hardly ever got visitors; who on earth could it be? I quickly placed my whisky back under the sink before heading through to the front door. I unlatched the door and slowly pulled it open, just wide enough to see who was there. Young Tom’s smiling face peered up at me; but what was he doing here? Without a moment’s hesitation I invited the boy in from the bitter cold, offering him a warm beverage as he entered into my sitting room. I had just recently replenished the fire as the February chill continued to turn my house into a frozen fortress.

  ‘I’m sorry to disturb ya Detective,’ Tom said after declining a drink. ‘But I was told by Constable Taylor tha’ ya were lookin’ for me? He said I should see ya straight away.’

  ‘Oh yes Tom, I was hoping to see you today.’ I had completely forgotten I had needed to speak with him. ‘Mr and Mrs Summers will be leaving Whitby this evening, after sunset, unfortunately this will be too late for a train, so we will require you to get the horses ready for them to leave.’ Tom looked at me confused, but I was unsure how much more to tell him at this moment in time.

  ‘No problem, Sir.’ Tom responded. He wasn’t stupid, and clearly knew the seriousness of the matter. ‘Who be driving the coach, Sir?’

  ‘I will be asking Mr Walker to drive them out of the town.’

  ‘Please let me do it, Sir,’ he spoke with such hope and eagerness to help, ‘I promise I won’t be of any bother.’ I looked upon this young boy and smiled, I knew how much he had come to care for Mrs Summers and I could not bring myself to say no.

  ‘Okay, Tom, but you must speak with Mr Summers and do everything he asks of you.’

  ‘No problem Sir, I’ll ’ave the horses ready for sunset an’ awaitin’ Mr and Mrs Summers.’

  ‘Thank you Tom, Mr Summers will be with you first and give you the instructions.’ Tom nodded and stood as though to leave.

  ‘One more thing, Tom.’ He turned back to me, his face turning serious upon seeing my own stern expression. ‘I need you to keep this conversation to yourself; nobody is to know about the Summers’ leaving Whitby this evening, do I make myself clear?’ Again Tom nodded, and did not utter another word, before showing himself out.

  I watched him from my window for a moment as he hurried along back down the street. I knew he could be trusted. He had taken a shining to Mrs Summers.

  The blue sky of this morning had now turned overcast and grey as the North Sea winds had begun to pick up. It was shaping up to be a rough night.

  Chapter 33

  Victoria

  By 5 o’clock I was getting ready to leave the inn. Detective Matthews and Constable Taylor had arrived around half past four to ensure we all knew the plan. He then left myself and Albert alone as he headed up Church Street to get into position. He did not want me to know exactly where he was planning to be, and he certainly did not want us to be seen walking up the road together.

  Albert had been instructed to stay at the inn with Constable Taylor, where they could start loading our luggage onto the carriage and be prepared for us leaving promptly. Albert had argued this part of the plan quite strongly, but soon backed down once the Detective had explained how his being there may cause D to do something irrational.

  ‘And where exactly are your police back up, Detective?’ He questioned, before Matthews left.

  ‘They are close by Mr Summers, and already in position ready.’ The Detective said defensively, as he walked out of the door.

  I wore my long black evening gown. The long sleeves and high neckline should be enough to keep me warm on this severely cold evening. I was also wearing the Whitby Jet necklace Albert had bought me; it somehow calmed me and made it feel as though Albert would be close by at all times. Black lace gloves covered my hands in hope to keep them warm, and a shawl around my shoulders for extra protection from the cold. My hair fell loose around my shoulders and I did not wear a hat as I typically would.

  Albert slowly walked me to the inn door, his hand holding firmly onto my own. As we reached the threshold of the old inn Albert swung me into his arms and began kissing me passionately. My entire body was shaking as I held onto him for support. After a moment’s embrace Albert finally released me, squeezing my hand gently again for reassurance and wordlessly nodding that everything was going to be all right. He was doing a good job at trying to stay relaxed for the sake of my feelings, but I knew my husband well, and I could tell he was just as nervous as I was. I lingered in the doorway a few seconds longer than necessary, hoping beyond anything that Detective Matthews would reappear and tell me the whole plan had all been cancelled.

  As I exited the inn one last time I wished beyond anything it had been under better circumstances. I knew that once this ordeal was over Albert would be waiting for me with a carriage so we could finally go home.

  Church Street was already quiet; and the last few people still wandering the street were making their way home before darkness fell once more. I was instantly hit by the cold wind cascading down the narrow cobbled street, the gust raced past my face causing my hair to blow dramatically behind me, and I had to hold firmly onto my dress to avoid it carrying me away. I began what now felt like a long walk along the street, battling against the wind that tried pushing me back, its force wrenching at my dress as though trying to stop me from going any further.

  Upon reaching the end of Church Street I turned the corner and was met by the base of the 199 steps. Now deserted and lifeless the stone steps looked bleak in the fading light.

  My pace was not as fast as it could have been as I continued along Henrietta Street. I could not help but look around cautiously at all the small houses that lined the narrow little street, wondering what they must have been like inside and who lived in them. I knew Detective Matthews had planned to be around here somewhere, hidden out of sight, and I presumed he would be in one of them; disguised behind a net curtain, camouflaged from sight, but hopefully in full view to come and help me as soon as possible. With every footstep I took my heartbeat began to quicken, my hands began to shake and my stomach uneasy. I took a deep breath and forced myself to keep walking, and as the road end came into view and the bench I was to sit and wait became visible, a nauseating sensation filled my entire body.

  Sitting on the bench with the fury of the wind sti
ll hitting me, all I could do was look out onto the harbour entrance, still visible through the dimming light. The two stone piers, with their lighthouses mounted on the ends, looked strong and enduring as they took on the aggressive sea crashing against them. The sun had now completely set, and the final stream of light began to drain from the sky above. The sky was filled with what looked like one enormous dark grey cloud stretching from the horizon, right back over the little fishing town. I had been seated less than ten minutes when suddenly I heard footsteps from behind me. My heart skipped a beat as I continued to face forwards, staring hard at the West pier lighthouse which had at that moment began to cast its light out into the blackening open sea.

  ‘I am pleased you finally made it my dear.’ His voice was calm and collected as though greeting an old friend. I continued to face forward as he placed his hand casually upon my shoulder.

  Chapter 34

  D.

  I had been waiting all day for some kind of sign from her. I knew she would return to me, her body language was more than clear how much she longed for me. But as the day went on I began to fear the worst. Had that oaf husband of hers convinced her not to leave him, poisoning her mind with lies that she would be better off with him rather than me?

  I knew it was unsafe to be seen during daylight now, so I spent most of my day in St Mary’s churchyard. I had a perfect view of the harbour, and until I could think of the best way to rescue my sweet Victoria from the wicked man she called husband, all I could do was wait and hope.

  The wind had increased quite dramatically as the day drew on. As dusk began setting in and the winds grew ever more I watched from the cliff top as fishermen secured their boats along the harbour. The River Esk very rarely saw this amount of current, yet this evening the river thrashed under the power of the sea winds.

  Suddenly in the corner of my eye I saw somebody on the small street directly below me. I leaned over the cliff side to get a better view and was astonished to see that it was my Victoria; her hair was blowing beautifully in the wind as she sat perfectly still overlooking the river mouth before her.

  Of course! Sunset is the perfect time to meet. Why had I not thought of this all along? She was clearly awaiting me so we could leave together in the romance of a sunset. Her idea is purely poetic and suitable for a love like ours, I must not leave her waiting in the cold, as we need to make our way as soon as possible.

  I took off at speed in the direction of the 199 Steps, jumping down them a handful at a time, cautiously trying to judge the uneven surfaces just right in the dim light. As darkness began to engulf the streets of Whitby I knew that we would be relatively undisturbed leaving; and that by morning we would be long gone and living the life we both deserved.

  As I approached, her delightful aroma filled my nostrils, my heart began to beat faster for her and I could not wait to touch her once again.

  ‘I am pleased you finally made it my dear,’ I said, touching her gently on the shoulder.

  I walked around the bench to join her, all the while holding her shoulder in my hand. As I sat down she turned her head to face me, her eyes distant and sad as though trying to hold back tears.

  ‘What is the matter? You should be happy that you can now be with me fully and not live the lie you once did. Albert will forgive you in time once he realises that this is where your heart truly belongs.’

  She just stared at me for a moment before finally speaking, her voice croaky and with a slight tremor which I decided was due to the cold.

  ‘I did not tell Albert I was leaving him’ were her only words.

  ‘Would you prefer he did not know? Do you just want to leave without saying goodbye?’

  ‘No,’ she said, her voice now harsh and cold, I looked at her with confusion in my face.

  ‘Then what is it you plan to do?’ I asked.

  ‘I came to tell you that I have no intention of running away with you, I am in love with my husband, Albert, and I intend to leave with him, and him alone.’

  My eyes widened at this statement. Clearly I am too late; she has had her mind twisted by that giant fool and has lost the spark and fight of what she truly wants in her heart. Me.

  I took her by the hand, but she snatched it away just as fast. I had never seen her look at me in this way before, the anger and the pain she felt broke my heart. All I wanted for her was to be with somebody who loved her as much as she deserved, for her to live in happiness and with a man who knows exactly how she should be treated.

  I am that man. I know I can make her happier than Albert and I had to prove to her that I wasn’t going to give her up without a fight.

  Chapter 35

  Detective Matthews

  I sat and waited in one of the small cottages at the base of the 199 Steps, owned by the widow of a fellow police officer I once had the honour to work with. It had been many years since I had been in their front living room, and the conditions of my current visit could certainly have been better. I knew I needed to stay focused as I sat waiting for Mrs Summers to pass; D might arrive quite soon.

  I kept going through every little detail in my head, questioning whether or not I was doing the right thing. I then started to wonder if D had seen me sneak into the little cottage; had he seen me leave the White Horse and Griffin only half an hour before Mrs Summers?

  I watched from behind the curtain of the small window frame as Victoria passed me. I could not stop my hands from shaking as I watched her continue along Henrietta Street; her pace slow and hesitant. I knew this walk must have taken her a great deal of courage, and this alone filled me with the duty of making sure this man was finally caught, tonight.

  All I could do now was wait, and hope that somebody else passed by; and thankfully I didn’t have long to wait, as a gentleman in a long cape like coat came hurtling down the 199 Steps at such speed I thought at first he may have been falling. His large brimmed hat shadowed his face enough for me not to be able to identify him. He recomposed himself at the bottom of the steps, his back to me; and casually, as though no longer in a rush, he began walking the narrow cobblestoned road of Henrietta Street.

  I decided to wait. I could not arrest a man simply for walking up the street. I needed to allow him to reach Victoria and start a conversation, and she needed to be the one to identify him. I was even contemplating waiting until both of them re-emerged from down the street. After all it was a dead end, where else could they go?

  Chapter 36

  Tom

  I was alone in the small stable yard besides the White Horse and Griffin when Mrs Summers left. I decided to stay out of sight until she had gone; emotions were high and I did not want to interfere as she kissed her husband and began heading along the road. That was my cue to bring around the two horses and carriage so that Mr Summers and Constable Taylor could begin loading the bags onto the back. Mr Summers had never been overly talkative to me on the best of days, but now as I helped him secure the luggage into place all he could do was look over his shoulder, back in the direction Mrs Summers had left.

  The wind was awfully bitter this evening; even the horses were unsettled by it. Once the final bags were safety secured to the rear of the carriage I opened the door to offer Mr Summers a seat, away from the harassment of the wind.

  ‘No thank you, Tom,’ he said, his eyes fixated on the now empty road. ‘I want to be seen by her when she returns.’ I nodded and returned to the horses, whilst Constable Taylor spoke with him.

  ‘It’s a brave thing she be doing tonight.’ Taylor said. ‘You must love her dearly, Sir.’

  ‘Yes Constable.’ He smiled. ‘I would be a lost man without her, for you see as much as I work, I work hard to ensure she has the best possible life. Not just her but her entire family I like to provide for as much as I can.’

  ‘That must be an awful big obligation, Sir?’

  ‘Yes, Constable, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. You see when Victoria’s father died only a few years ago I took it upon myself to see t
hat her mother was well taken care of. You know, Victoria did not come from a wealthy family, and her father, who was a farmer his entire life, did not have anything of great value to leave behind after he had gone.’

  ‘What did they do, Sir?’ Taylor asked, his voice cautious of not appearing too noisy.

  ‘Victoria and I had been courting only a matter of weeks when her father died; she was working in a rather hostile pub in the centre of London. She lived in a small one bedroom house, which she shared with four other women, and sent most of her wage back to her mother.’ His voice drifted slightly as though picturing it in his mind, his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead looking out for his wife’s return. ‘Despite the fact that I am from a wealthy family and I could shower her with endless gifts, she refuses them all. She sees them as unnecessary, and sees that money can go to better use than a pair of ear rings she does not need. Sometimes it’s almost like she feels unworthy of such nice things, but I also think it comes from growing up with little possessions that has made her feel she does not need them to be happy. Anyway, when her father passed I made a promise to her mother that I would send the money to them every week, and that Victoria was to save the money she made working at the bar for better living accommodation.’

  I listened to Mr Summers talking about his wife to the Constable, and was in awe by how much he cared for her. The smile that flickered across his face when ever he said her name was sweet.

  ‘Finally after a year of courting I proposed, and we were married only six months later, to the horror of my parents.’

  ‘Why were your parents not happy Sir, did they not like… Mrs Summers?’ It felt wrong of me to be listening in to their conversation; yet as he continued to speak about Mrs Summers to the Constable, the more interested I became.

 

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