by Lyn Gardner
“I know,” said Rose. “I hid. I thought maybe you were in league with Amy. Amy, you’d better tell Billy everything you told me about Lydia.”
Amy did so, and by the time the train arrived to take them to London, Billy knew the whole sad history of Lydia and Gandini and had been able to fill them in on what he and the inspector already knew.
The train suffered further delays and so by the time they arrived at Fenchurch Street the station clock read a quarter to ten. Billy told them to go ahead. He would send a message to Scotland Yard to get the police to go to St Olave’s before following them.
“We’ll never make it to St Olave’s in time,” said Rose desperately, and it looked as though she was going to be right – the terrible weather meant that there wasn’t a hansom in sight. At last they found one and it set off towards Southwark, moving slowly through the murky night, with the rain drumming on the top of the cab so loudly that it was impossible to hear each other speak. The side roads had turned to mud and were treacherous, made slippery with grease and water so that the horses could get little grip.
“We’re going to be too late,” said Rose despairingly. The city clock struck ten p.m. long before they reached London Bridge. They clattered on to the bridge and the tower of St Olave’s came into view through the mist. They trundled on as a flash of lightning split the sky, lighting up the river eerily. The thunder that followed was so loud that the horses reared, and the carriage lurched into the gutter, one of the wheels buckling. They were stuck. Rose flung some coins at Amy to give to the cab driver, leapt from the carriage and began running across the bridge, the rain driving into her face like needles. At the south side of the bridge the road was completely blocked by an overturned cart. A horse was loose, spooked by the thunder and lightning. Rose didn’t stop. She turned left at the end of the bridge and tore along the riverbank. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, her throat felt raw with the exertion and she was soaked through, her face streaked with soot. She raced through the churchyard, glimpsed the candles glimmering inside the church windows and ran up the path to the church’s great door. She turned the iron ring handles and flung the great doors open. Through the carved wooden screen in front, she could see Edward and Lydia standing at the altar with their backs to her. The priest had his nose buried in his book.
“If anyone knows of any impediment—”
“Stop! I do!” shouted Rose, and she raced up the aisle. Everyone turned to look at her. Water and sweat and soot were running down her face and she knew she looked quite mad. Edward stepped backwards in astonishment. Aurora had stood up and was staring at Rose, white-faced. Lydia took a closer step towards Edward, as if seeking sanctuary behind him. Rose pointed her finger at Lydia.
“I don’t know if it’s a legal impediment. But you can’t marry her, Edward. She was married to Gandini and she killed him. And she tried to kill Amy and me too. And she probably killed Tobias Fraggles, and maybe Stratford-Mark too.”
Everyone began to talk at once. Lydia gave a harsh laugh. “The child’s quite mad. Just look at the state of her! She’s telling lies, wicked lies.”
“No, she’s not,” shouted Amy, who had arrived at the church looking quite as dishevelled and drowned as Rose.
A murmur of consternation went up in the church with the unexpected appearance of Amy. Edward took another step backwards as if he’d seen a ghost. Thomas put his hand to his mouth in astonishment.
“Lydia stole the Doomstone from around her own neck, and she killed my father when he discovered that she was planning to marry Edward, even though she was still married to him.”
“It’s true, Edward,” said Rose quietly.
“Edward…” said Lydia pleadingly. “It’s just childish…” She stuttered to a halt. Edward was looking at her as if he was seeing her for the very first time. He put his head to one side.
“Lydia?” he said questioningly. “I think you have some explaining to do.”
“She does,” said another voice, and Inspector Cliff, Billy Proctor and several other policemen appeared at the end of the aisle. “Lydia Bray, sometimes known as Lydia Duchamps, I’m arresting you for the theft of the Doomstone, the murder of Paul Bray, otherwise known as Mr Gandini, and for the attempted murder of Rose Campion and Amelia Bray. Further charges will follow.”
“It’s all some silly mistake,” blustered Lydia, but she faltered as she saw the way that everyone was looking at her with a mixture of astonishment and distaste. “Edward,” she said pleadingly, and faltered to a stop. Edward was staring at her as if she was a stranger – one repulsive to him at that. Inspector Cliff was bearing down on her, handcuffs ready. Lydia didn’t wait – she gathered her short train under one arm, darted towards a small wooden door to her left and ran through it, kicking it shut behind her.
Amy, quicker off the mark than the others, was after her with no hesitation. She flung the door open again, revealing a stone spiral staircase, and chased up after Lydia, closely followed by Rose. Rose knew that Lydia had made a mistake: the staircase led nowhere but the top of the bell tower. Lydia was going to be trapped. Rose could hear Amy ahead, and the sound of feet behind her. Up ahead, another door banged. Lydia must have reached the bell tower. There was nowhere for her to go but the roof. Rose reached the small door at the top of the staircase and burst through it. She was in the bell tower. Lydia was already disappearing through a trapdoor at the top of a ladder clamped to the wall. Amy was close behind Lydia. Rose clambered on to the bottom of the ladder as Amy’s feet disappeared above her. Rose scrambled up as fast as she could and emerged on to the roof of the tower to find Lydia with her arm around Amy’s neck, pointing a pistol at her head. Lydia had a look of desperation that Rose had seen once before, in the eyes of a mad dog that had been chased through the streets and cornered in an alleyway.
Rose could almost feel the threatening metal barrel of the pistol, as if it was being held against her own temple. The inspector, Billy, Edward and the others had reached the top of the tower and Rose sensed them behind her, weighing up the situation and holding their breath. There was a flash of lightning that illuminated everyone, so they resembled startled ghosts. Rose realised how dangerously exposed they were up on the church roof in the middle of a raging storm.
“Lydia, put down the gun. Let Amy go,” said Edward, and he moved next to Rose.
“Do as he says, Lydia. You can’t escape from here,” said the inspector, and he put out his hand for the gun and took a step closer.
“Stay where you are,” shouted Lydia, “or she gets it in the head.” She gave a little laugh. “What’s one more?” She looked distracted. “There has been so much blood.”
Rose was suddenly reminded of Lady Macbeth, driven mad by all the slaughter she had instigated. She wondered whether Lydia had lost her mind. The inspector was once again talking in a low voice to Lydia.
“Let the girl go. We can work something out, Lydia.” There was another flash, and a clap of thunder as loud as judgement day. It rumbled on and on, as if the entrails of the city itself were groaning. Lydia was waving the gun around and talking to herself. Amy whimpered. The inspector took a step towards Lydia and she fired the gun, the bullet narrowly missing his right ear.
“I will kill the girl. Blood will have blood,” said Lydia.
Rose suddenly had an idea. Lydia was past reason, but perhaps she was still in touch with her emotions. She whispered something to Edward, who nodded and then turned his gaze to Lydia and looked at her as if she and he were the only two people present.
He said softly, “Lydia. My love! Listen to me. You and me. That’s all that matters. You know how much you mean to me.”
Lydia looked at him. For a moment there was a hint of suspicion in her gaze, but when she saw the sincerity in his face it melted away. It was suddenly as if Lydia was lit from within, looking as beautiful and luminous as she had on that first evening, when they had glimpsed her at the Pall Mall wearing the Star of the Sea.
“Edwar
d,” she sighed softly. “You still love me?” Edward nodded. “Despite everything you still want to marry me?”
Edward’s back was full of tension, but he said gently, “Of course, my love. You know I’d do anything for you.”
Lydia gazed at him lovingly. “I’d do anything for you, Edward.”
“I know, Lydia. That’s why I’m asking you to let Amy go. Please – do it for me, my love. There has been enough blood spilled.”
“Yes,” whispered Lydia. “Blood will have blood. I’m very tired, Edward. I’m so very tired. The old man, Stratford-Mark, had so much blood in him. I want it to stop.”
“I know, my love,” said Edward. “Let me help you. We’ll stop it together. Side by side.”
He moved up very close to her, and Lydia dropped the hand with the gun in it to her side in a gesture of defeat. Rose sensed the inspector was going to move forward and she motioned for him to stop. There was another flash of lightning followed by more thunder. Amy began to edge away, but Lydia seemed to have entirely forgotten her. Rain was running like tears down Lydia’s and Edward’s faces as they gazed intensely at each other, her eyes lost in his and his lost in hers.
“Will you hand the gun to me, my love?” asked Edward. Lydia smiled and looked deeper still into his eyes. She held the gun out, and he took it and kissed her hand.
“Thank you, Lydia. Thank you, my love.” For a moment he gazed down at her, and she looked up at him, and it felt as if the world had stopped moving and they were the only two people on earth. He moved so that he was now standing alongside, but still not touching her. He held out his arm and gave a gallant little bow.
“Will you take my arm, m’lady?”
Lydia smiled sweetly and dropped a little curtsy.
“I will, m’lud.” She raised her arm so he could hook his around hers, and as she did so there was a bright flash and an almighty bang. A look of astonishment passed across Lydia’s face and she fell to the ground, her body charred and smoking. She had taken the full force of a lightning strike. There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Edward crumpled and began to weep, very quietly at first, and then like a dog howling at the moon.
31
Afterwards
Rose, Aurora, Thomas, Edward and Amy were waiting in the yard of Holloway Prison. Rose gazed up at the forbidding walls and shivered. The iron door at the end of the yard opened and Effie appeared, a tiny hunched figure. She saw them all and her face lit up like the sun on a summer’s morning. They all flung themselves towards her and she disappeared under their hugs. As they walked towards the gatehouse, chatting away, the inspector and Julia Devonish came to greet them, both of them beaming. The inspector took Effie’s hand.
“My apologies. I hope you can forgive me for all my stupidity. I was blind, quite blind to the truth.”
Effie smiled graciously. “It don’t matter. It’s over now.” She gazed at the prison walls and muttered fiercely, “I ain’t never going back in there.” Then she winked at Julia. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, ma’am, but the food is rubbish. I can’t wait to get a Campion’s bloater down my throat.”
Julia smiled. “The inspector has more news.”
The inspector nodded and turned to Rose. “I owe you thanks, Rose Campion. We may never have recovered the Star of the Sea if it were not for you. We turned the Pall Mall upside down in vain, until you suggested that we take a look at the chandeliers, and there it was in plain sight, hidden amid the other pieces of coloured glass. It would still be there, maybe for eternity, if it was not for you.”
“If there is one thing I’ve learned over the last few weeks,” said Rose, “it’s that the best place to hide something is in plain view. You never notice what is staring you in the face.”
“Well, thank you.” He turned to Thomas. “Of course Campion’s can reopen tonight if you wish. My apologies for the inconvenience, and if I can ever be of any service—”
“Maybe you can,” said Rose quickly. She looked at Thomas, who nodded. “It’s about my mother. I was stolen from her when I was just a baby. Thomas found me, and he has been the best father any girl could ever hope to have, but I do so feel the lack of a mother, and I can’t bear to think that maybe she’s out there somewhere too, feeling the lack of me. We’ve been looking for her, and we’ve asked the police to help over and over, but so far they don’t seem to be trying very hard. Do you think you could look into it when you don’t have any murders to investigate?”
“Of course,” said the inspector, “Billy and I will be on to it first thing in the morning. We will make it a priority. It is the very least we can do.”
He and Julia took their leave.
“Do you really think he’ll be able to help?” asked Aurora.
“You never know,” said Thomas. “Anything is worth a try.”
“It is,” said Rose. “I’m sure that the inspector will do his best.” She paused wickedly. “But as we all know, the inspector’s best is not very good.”
They all burst out laughing. Two carriages were waiting for them outside the prison.
“We’ll drop you off at Fenchurch Street, Amy,” said Thomas. “Are you sure you don’t want any of us to come to Southend with you?”
Amy shook her head. “Mrs Gandini said she would meet me at the station. She said I can start work this afternoon in the shop. I’m so looking forward to it, learning how to make ice cream properly. Anyway, Rose, Rory and Effie are going to come and visit me next Sunday.”
“Yes,” said Rose happily. “I’m looking forward to going to the seaside properly. I don’t think I saw it at its best on my first visit. I couldn’t quite see the charm.”
Thomas turned to Edward, who had been very quiet since events in the church. “After the station, we can drop you and Aurora at Silver Square, Edward.”
Edward looked questioningly at his daughter, who flashed him an encouraging smile. “Actually, no. I don’t think so, Thomas. If it’s all right with you, I think Rory and I will come back to Campion’s with you all. Rory and I have been talking – we think we’d like to move into Campion’s on a permanent basis. We reckon that like all actors and performers, we’re rogues and vagabonds at heart. We’re not cut out to be lords and ladies.”
“No,” said Rory. “Being a lady is horribly dull and much harder work than it looks.”
“Does that mean,” asked Rose, “that we can put the bicycle act back on the bill tonight?”
Aurora grinned and nodded. “But only if we’re top of the bill,” she said with a laugh.
“Well, actually,” said Effie, “I was hoping for top of the bill for my debut tonight as the Fantastical Effie Madley, the Girl Conjuror.”
They all stared at her open-mouthed.
“Are you quite sure you want to do a solo magic act, Effie?” asked Thomas.
“Yes,” said Effie. “But I don’t want to overreach myself so maybe I’ll start at the bottom of the bill and work my way up. I need to remember everything that Mr Gandini taught me, and read as much about magic as I can so I get better. I’ll do it for him as a memorial to his kindness to me.” She paused. “Then, when I’m rich and celebrated as the world’s most famous magician, I’ll buy the Doomstone.”
The others stared, open-mouthed and completely horrified. Effie burst out laughing at their faces.
“I’m only joking. I wouldn’t touch the bloomin’ thing. I’ve told you before, it’s cursed.”
Rose grinned and put her arm through Effie’s, and Aurora did the same. The three of them skipped down the road together, away from the glowering prison, and they didn’t look back.
Rose Campion and the Stolen Secret
Olivia’s First Term
Olivia Flies High
Olivia and the Movie Stars
Olivia’s Enchanted Summer
Olivia and the Great Escape
Olivia’s Winter Wonderland
Olivia’s Curtain Call
Copyright
First published
in the UK in 2017 by Nosy Crow Ltd
The Crow’s Nest, 10a Lant Street
London, SE1 1QR, UK
www.nosycrow.com
ISBN: 978 0 85763 8441
Nosy Crow and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Nosy Crow Ltd
Text copyright © Lyn Gardner, 2017
Cover and inside illustrations copyright © Jez Tuya, 2017
Rose Campion title lettering copyright © Júlia Sardà 2016
The right of Lyn Gardner to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.
All rights reserved
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of Nosy Crow Ltd.
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Printed and bound in the UK by Clays Ltd, St. Ives Plc
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Chapter One
Olivia Marvell stood on the pavement in the pouring London rain. She screwed up her eyes as she lifted her face to the sky and the rain lashed down so hard it was like hundreds of tiny pinpricks. Olivia sighed. Even the weather had a grudge against her. She glanced at her dad, Jack, who since they had left the Tube station had been wrestling with an umbrella that kept being caught by the wind and turning itself inside out. The umbrella was clearly going to win. Jack looked as cold, wet and miserable on the outside as Olivia felt inside. She shivered. She hated London already; she had only been here for a few hours, and longed for the Italian late-summer sunshine that made you want to arch your back and stretch like a cat.