A Case of Grave Danger

by Sophie Cleverly

  ‘He’s well too.’ I wasn’t sure how I’d expected the day to be going, but exchanging pleasantries with a possible murderer definitely hadn’t been on my list of plans.

  ‘Wonderful,’ she said. ‘Do give my regards to your family.’ Then she made a show of pulling out a dainty pocket watch, the face cracked with age. ‘Is that the time? I should …’

  I couldn’t let her get away. I needed something to make her stay. ‘Have you heard about my father, miss?’

  She froze completely for a moment, as if the watch in her hand had stopped time.

  ‘He’s been arrested,’ I continued. ‘Someone’s accused him of murder.’

  Miss Stone glanced around the cemetery and I thought that she might be about to run. Instead, she moved towards me. I gulped quietly.

  ‘No,’ she exclaimed. ‘How awful. Do you know who that someone might be?’

  She tilted her head to one side. I shook mine in response. My pulse was racing.

  ‘You don’t think perhaps that he is guilty?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ I said firmly, trying to keep the shake from my voice. ‘He’s innocent.’

  ‘And how do you know that, my dear girl?’ Her voice had lost its pleasant tone and gone cold.

  Suddenly Bones rushed towards my feet, snapping and growling, his eyes fixed on the governess. I grabbed his collar to hold him, straining as he pulled with all his weight.

  Miss Stone took a few steps back in surprise, her own eyes wide as saucers. ‘Oh my,’ she said. ‘I must be going.’

  I turned round to see Oliver, who had jumped out from his hiding place.

  The two of them stood on the cemetery path. Not moving. Barely blinking.

  ‘Oh …’ gasped Miss Stone under her breath.

  Then she turned and hurried away, slipping through the dark trees, black lace streaming out behind her.

  I’d been tempted to let Bones run after her, but – and I hated to admit it – I was too afraid. I didn’t want to catch up with the Black Widow at that moment. Nor did I want to give her a chance to do something bad to my dog. He was still growling after her, his teeth bared.

  Perhaps it was an overreaction – after all, she hadn’t really done anything to me. But Bones seemed to sense that something was wrong. And perhaps I shouldn’t have told him he could bite her.

  I swallowed, and turned back to Oliver. He was white as a sheet. ‘Did you see how she reacted when she saw you? She was shocked – as though she wasn’t expecting to see you alive!’

  There was a moment of silence, only the leaves rustling overhead. And then Oliver finally spoke. ‘I don’t understand though, miss. I don’t recognise her. I don’t feel anything.’

  ‘But I’m sure she recognised you!’ I insisted, holding tightly to Bones’s collar as he strained.

  He raised his hands. ‘Then why can’t I remember?’

  ‘You don’t remember anything surrounding your injury,’ I reminded him, although I didn’t think he needed reminding.

  ‘I remember everything before that. An’ I don’t remember ever meeting this lady in my life. If she tried to kill me, she must know me, mustn’t she? Doesn’t there have to be a reason?’ He rubbed the scar on the back of his head again.

  ‘Not necessarily,’ I said, although he was putting some doubt in my mind. Miss Stone had been my governess, and it seemed that perhaps she did have something against Father from the way she had spoken. Perhaps enough to want to falsely accuse him. If the rumours were true that he’d sacked her, she could be holding a grudge.

  But how could she possibly have known Oliver? He wasn’t far from being a street urchin. And the other men who had been victims – did she know them too? Nothing really stacked up.

  Bones suddenly stopped pulling against me, so I let go of his collar. He looked up at me and then began trotting back. Hmm. I supposed we might as well follow.

  Oliver stared in the direction that Miss Stone had gone, and then shook his head. ‘I just don’t understand,’ he said again.

  ‘Mother always says life is not for us to understand,’ I told him vaguely as I walked past, and he turned to follow me. My mind was elsewhere.

  * * *

  Unfortunately, when we reached home, things had taken a turn for the worse.

  Mother was sitting at the table, her head in her hands.

  ‘Mother?’ I asked as we walked in. Bones ran over and tried to lick her face, but she didn’t even react.

  Eventually she looked up, and I saw that her cheeks were tear-stained. ‘I couldn’t stop them,’ she said.

  ‘Who?’ Oliver asked, but I was already running for the front of the house, to the shop.

  The place was chaos.

  The police were in there, and they were going through all of our files. They had tossed many of them to the floor. Bones skidded into the room, pushing the papers aside, and growled at the policemen. He ran forward and got one of them by the trousers.

  ‘Get that mutt out of here,’ the constable said, trying to shake Bones away from his leg.

  ‘Bones, come here.’ I turned to the police. ‘What are you doing?’ I demanded, but they ignored me.

  ‘No files that match,’ one of them said, pointing to the John Doe section. ‘He’s covered his tracks good.’

  Oliver peered in over my shoulder as Bones slunk back behind us.

  That was when I saw the detective inspector. He was leaning over Father’s desk. I marched right up to him.

  ‘These are Father’s things,’ I began. ‘You have no right—’

  Inspector Holbrook swung round and leaned over me. I breathed in sharply. I’d forgotten he was so tall.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Has no one ever taught you your place, child?’

  My heart quivered between my lungs, but I stood firm. ‘My place is here, sir, and you and your friends are ransacking it!’

  The inspector stood staring down at me. It was like he was looking into my soul. Or perhaps he was just trying to decide whether or not to send me packing. ‘You’re a strange one,’ he said finally. ‘I’m telling you now, this doesn’t concern you.’

  He pushed me out of the way with a firm hand and then walked out from behind the desk. Oliver stayed silently fuming in the doorway, but I had noticed something. The inspector had made a big mistake – he hadn’t put away the papers he had been looking at.

  I snatched one up.

  Edgar D. Veil

  You owe us and your time is up

  You must meet our demands and remove the first target — do this now or your family will pay the price.

  My jaw dropped.

  Someone had been blackmailing Father. And worse, it sounded like they wanted him to do something bad. Very bad.

  And now I was left with the question – had he done as they said?

  couldn’t stop staring at the letter, my eyes glued to it as if it were flypaper. The words swam in my vision. Whatever had my father got himself involved with?

  ‘What is it?’ Oliver hissed in my ear.

  I turned to him, certain I must look a fright. His expression became one of concern when he saw my face.

  ‘Blackmail,’ I whispered back, waving the letter. ‘Someone threatened Father. It sounds like they wanted him to … hurt somebody.’

  Oliver looked sickened. ‘No,’ he said.

  That ‘no’ echoed in my mind.

  No. No. No.

  I slapped the letter down on the desk.

  ‘No!’ I called out.

  Inspector Holbrook turned round and looked at me. The other policemen stopped and stared. Bones whimpered.

  ‘No,’ I said again. I was shaking. ‘This isn’t true. This letter is a fake.’

  The inspector raised an eyebrow at me. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘It’s typewritten,’ I told him, ‘and not signed. Anyone could have written this!’

  ‘Look, girl—’ he began with a wave of a huge hand.

  ‘Violet,’ I corrected.

&n
bsp; He barely blinked. ‘Listen here. Your father has got himself involved with bad people. He has dangerous debts …’

  ‘No, he doesn’t,’ I insisted. I felt sure I would know about such a thing. ‘We may have had to cut a few corners lately, but we aren’t in financial difficulties.’

  One of the policemen laughed at that, and I felt my cheeks burning. How dare they?

  ‘Just look at this place,’ the other policeman said.

  What was he talking about? I glanced around the shop. It was a little dusty, perhaps, and some things were looking a bit worse for wear. There were some cobwebs springing up. But that was just because we were down to only one servant, wasn’t it? We’d just had to let a lot of the servants go because …

  Because …

  Oh no.

  Doubt started to hit me, then. It wasn’t just a matter of ‘cutting corners’, was it? Things were bad. How could I have missed it? I was so caught up in myself that I hadn’t noticed the trouble we were in.

  If Father really had debts to the wrong people … then perhaps they could have threatened him. Told him to do these terrible things. He wouldn’t … would he? Though if it were to protect us …

  The policeman who’d laughed must have noticed the change in my expression, because now he was looking smug. ‘You’d think business would be booming in an undertaker’s in this day and age, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Too right,’ the other one replied.

  The inspector turned to them. ‘Quiet,’ he said, and both immediately went silent and turned back to rifling through our files. ‘Young miss, you may want to believe your father is innocent.’ His tone seemed sympathetic, but his expression was so cold and hard that no kindness shone through. ‘But you are wrong.’

  Bones growled up at him. I frowned, feeling hot and shaky. Bones didn’t trust these constables, so I didn’t either.

  ‘We know what we’re doing,’ the inspector continued. ‘Your father was in deep debt to people from the wrong side of town. We have proof –’ he pointed to the letter lying on the desk – ‘that they told him to commit these crimes. They gave him the four victims’ names.’

  He held up a sheet of paper briefly – and I caught a glimpse of the names, but none of them were Oliver’s.

  ‘And as you know, we found the murder weapon right here in your home,’ he finished.

  ‘But—’ I tried. It couldn’t be.

  ‘No buts,’ he snapped. ‘Your father is guilty. We almost have all the evidence we need, and he will hang.’

  I tried to scream a protest, but it got stuck in my throat. I thought my heart would fall out of my chest, but somehow words were failing me. Doubt had wormed its way in.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ Oliver suddenly said. ‘He’s innocent.’

  I think both the inspector and I were surprised that he had spoken.

  ‘And who are you, boy?’ Inspector Holbrook asked him.

  I gave a quick shake of my head – worried that Oliver might start explaining precisely who he was and why he was in our house. They might think it suspicious. And since Oliver couldn’t remember his attacker, I felt sure the police would take anything he said as yet more proof that Father was the murderer. Besides, we couldn’t risk it threatening our investigation.

  ‘Mr Veil took me in,’ Oliver said. I could hear the quiet rage in his voice. ‘He saved me from the workhouse. He’s a good man, and he would never do this. I don’t care what the note says. You’re wrong.’

  I squeezed my fingers together, focused on my breathing. I had to listen to Oliver. Father wouldn’t help him if he’d been the one to try to kill him, would he?

  But he feels guilty … a treacherous voice whispered inside my mind. I shook the thought away.

  I heard another small chuckle from one of the policemen. I wanted to hit him. How could they be so sure of themselves?

  Unless …

  Unless this was all part of someone’s plan.

  Of course. Someone was plotting this. They had to be. This anonymous threat could have been typed by anyone. There was no proof that my father had even seen it. And why hadn’t we spotted it before, if it had really been there?

  And Inspector Holbrook and his constables seemed awfully set on Father’s guilt. They laughed at him while he faced a terrible fate. To top it all off, Bones was clearly sensing something bad about them.

  Finally my words spilled out.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ I demanded. ‘Why are you pinning the blame on my father? Have you something against him?’

  I was poised to fight, but the inspector just looked at me with incredulity. ‘Get her out of here,’ he said.

  ‘What—’ I started, but suddenly one of the constables was in front of me.

  ‘Out,’ he said.

  Oliver stared up at him. ‘No, we—’

  ‘Both of you,’ the constable said. ‘And the mutt.’ He started walking forward, cornering us. Bones whimpered and darted back out into the corridor. We had no choice. We shuffled backwards, and the policeman slammed the door in our faces.

  * * *

  ‘They’re corrupt,’ I insisted, as I nursed a cup of hot tea in our kitchen. ‘Someone must be paying them off, or, or … Or they’re enemies of Father.’ I was trying to convince myself more than anything. There had to be an explanation. Anything other than Father’s guilt.

  ‘I’m not sure about them coppers neither,’ Oliver said, shaking his head in sad agreement.

  Maddy forced a cup of tea into my mother’s hands. Mother barely looked up. ‘They’re the police,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘Surely they know what’s right and wrong …’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure, ma’am,’ Maddy muttered.

  ‘They do know,’ I insisted. ‘They know they’re setting him up. Or that they don’t have the evidence right, at least! They must do!’ Bones whined at my feet and I took it as his agreement – but perhaps he just wanted a biscuit. ‘The way they’re acting is just completely wrong. And their “evidence” is flimsy. They won’t accept that it could have easily been planted.’

  Mother sighed. Her teacup trembled in her hands, a small drop spilling on to the saucer. She turned to my brother. ‘Thomas? Go and play outside,’ she said. For once, he didn’t argue, shuffling out of the back door with his hands wedged in the pockets of his britches.

  It was horrible to see my mother in this state. But I knew that what I had to tell her was going to make things much worse.

  ‘Mother, they … They have these awful letters. I have no idea where they found them, because we searched the whole office just the other day, which makes it all the more suspicious in my opinion, but anyway, they—’

  Mother’s gaze suddenly snapped to mine. ‘What letters, Violet?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘Blackmail. Father was being blackmailed.’

  I heard a gasp and the tinkling sound of Maddy dropping a spoon in the sink. I turned to her, but she flushed red and hurried away out of the kitchen. I think she felt she’d heard too much.

  Oliver looked the same – he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and his expression said he’d rather be anywhere else. Bones went over and put his nose in his lap.

  ‘What sort of blackmail?’ Mother asked, her voice flat and lifeless as if she already knew what I was going to say.

  ‘It said he owed someone and that they would hurt us if he didn’t do as they said. And the police said …’ I winced. ‘They said he was told to kill all those men. Because he had dangerous debts.’

  I hadn’t thought it possible, but the colour drained out of Mother’s face even further. She looked as if she were about to be sick. Oliver was just staring down at the table.

  ‘But it’s not true, is it?’ I asked desperately. ‘Father doesn’t owe money to bad people? I know we haven’t been doing so well recently, but—’

  ‘ENOUGH.’ Mother stood up so suddenly that the table shook, spilling the tea everywhere. My breath caught in my throat and Oliver flinched. ‘We
will not speak of this any further.’ There were tears in her eyes.

  ‘Mother, I …’ I started, but she just shook her head and left. Bones ran out after her.

  Now I began to feel sick. Mother’s reaction had spoken more than words. So the part about Father’s awful debts was true – or at least Mother suspected it was.

  ‘This is bad,’ I said quietly to Oliver. He nodded his agreement.

  ‘But – but it still doesn’t mean anything.’ I slammed my hand down on the table, sending the spilled tea jumping. ‘The police could have known about the debts and forged the blackmail letters! Or …’

  ‘Or the letters are real,’ Oliver finished. ‘But that don’t mean your pa did any of what they wanted.’

  ‘He wouldn’t,’ I agreed. I tried to put the certainty into my words that wouldn’t come to my mind. Then something occurred to me. ‘They didn’t have your name though, did they?’

  ‘I don’t know, miss,’ said Oliver, his brow drawn. ‘What did you see?’

  I closed my eyes, trying to remember. ‘I only caught sight of the list for a second, but I’m sure I didn’t see your name on there. And he only mentioned four victims. We know there were five if we include you.’

  ‘What do you think it means?’

  ‘Hmm.’ I wrinkled my brow. ‘It could be a clue that Father has been falsely accused – because whoever did this didn’t know about you. Or if they did, they didn’t know your name!’

  ‘Or they know I’m alive,’ he pointed out. ‘An’ they don’t want to send the bobbies looking for me.’

  Hmm. It was all adding up … to something. But what it was, I couldn’t be sure. This whole thing was getting stranger and stranger. If only we could work out what connected the victims … It all just felt so hopeless. If even I was beginning to question my father’s innocence, he stood no chance in front of a judge.

  I got up to fetch a cloth, and dried the remains of Mother’s tea from the table. I did hope she would be all right. Without Father, we needed her to hold the family together.

  Just then, I heard a scrabble of paws on the kitchen floor and looked round to see Bones coming back in. He had something in his mouth. He padded over and dropped it into my lap.