Comes The Dawn (The Wonderland Series: Book 5)

by Irina Shapiro

  “Doctor Lomax, please,” I pleaded. “She is not the one who stabbed him. She’s his wife, and she’s frantic with worry for him. They are migrants, and the last thing they need is to come to the attention of the authorities. Lord Everly wishes to help them, so please, allow him to do so. We’ll look after the girl and make sure she gets the care she needs.”

  Doctor Lomax didn’t look happy, but he gave a slight nod. Turning Frances over to the police would probably result in a miscarriage, and as a doctor, his first priority was to do no harm. I knew he was burning to ask prying questions, but was too polite to do so. No doubt he’d interrogate Mrs. Harding later. They had an odd relationship, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say there was something more than just friendship between those two.

  “What can I do for Frances?” I asked in an effort to distract him.

  “Plenty of rest, fluids, good nutritious food, and fresh air. Once she feels stronger, she should take daily exercise. A half-hour walk would do for a start. She’s about four months along, so at a guess, she’s due mid-December. Of course, I can’t be more specific without bloodwork and a scan. Bring her to my surgery on Monday. I will treat her pro bono after hours, so no one need know she was ever there. I will also supply her with prenatal vitamins, which she desperately needs.”

  He looked as if he were about to say something else, but changed his mind and stalked from the room.

  “Thank you,” I called after him, but all I heard was the slamming of the front door.

  Chapter 61

  Detective Inspector Knowles nodded to the uniformed guard in greeting and let himself into the hospital room. The young man was lying back against the pillows, his bright hair framing his face. He appeared to be awake, but still a bit drowsy from all the painkillers coursing through his bloodstream. Everly sat in a chair by the bed thumbing through an old magazine. The young man’s eyes slid over Knowles, but his face didn’t register any expression. DI Knowles couldn’t help noticing that the young man was surprisingly attractive in that rugged kind of way that was popular in American film stars. He didn’t look American though, not with that coloring. Irish, maybe. He was awfully thin, and Doctor Lomax mentioned that he was malnourished, borderline anemic. The doctor thought he might be a druggy, but no sign of narcotics was found in his blood. Perhaps he was just down on his luck. Out of a job.

  “Hello, how are you feeling?” Bobby asked as he walked toward the bed. He smiled at the man in an effort to put him at ease.

  “Better, thank you,” the man replied cautiously.

  “My name is Detective Inspector Robert Knowles, and I’d like to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?”

  The man glanced at Everly before replying, which annoyed Bobby to no end. He didn’t need Everly’s permission to talk to the police. Perhaps it’d be better if Everly left them to talk privately.

  “All right.”

  “Everly, would you mind waiting outside?” Bobby asked as politely as he could. Everly started to rise to his feet when the young man forestalled him.

  “I’d like him to stay.”

  Bobby gritted his teeth, but nodded to Everly to sit back down. He had no official reason for expelling Everly from the room, so stay he would. The young man was obviously more comfortable with him there; perhaps Everly’s presence would help. Bobby pulled out his notepad and pulled up a chair to the bed, his actions as casual and non-threatening as possible.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Archie,” the man replied with childlike innocence. There was something about him that Bobby just couldn’t put his finger on, something not quite right. He was just different somehow.

  “Archie what?”

  “Archie McDonald.” Now they were getting somewhere. DI Knowles glanced at Everly before continuing. What was the relationship between these two? Clearly they’d met before, even if Everly continued to deny it.

  “Can you tell me what happened to you, Archie?” The young man’s shoulders slumped as he considered the question. He looked upset, which was, of course, understandable under the circumstances. He’d been viciously attacked, and the last thing he wanted to do was relive those moments. “Take your time,” Bobby offered, hoping he wouldn’t take too long.

  “I was down in the crypt, looking at the effigy of the knight when someone accosted me,” Archie finally said.

  “Were you alone?”

  “Aye.”

  “Were you robbed?” DI Knowles asked.

  “I must have been since my possessions are gone,” Archie answered gruffly.

  “Where are you from, Archie?”

  “Scotland,” Archie replied.

  “Whereabouts in Scotland?” He didn’t sound like a Scot, but then again, many Scots who lived and worked in England lost some of their brogue.

  “I can’t recall.” That was odd, but persisting would just antagonize the man.

  “Did you see the person who attacked you?” Bobby asked, hoping for some clue as to who might have done this.

  “No, not really,” Archie replied. He was starting to get agitated. Probably upset at not being able to remember clearly.

  “Was there only one person?” Knowles asked.

  “No, I think there were two of them.”

  “Archie, if I might ask you just one more question. Why were you wearing period clothes?”

  The young man looked embarrassed for a moment, his pale cheeks turning pink. “I can’t remember.” DI Knowles was sure that he could, but suddenly the reason seemed unimportant. Probably some kind of history buff or fetishist.

  “I’ll leave you to rest now. Please ask the nurse to ring me should you remember anything else.”

  “Aye, I will,” the young man replied curtly.

  Bobby Knowles couldn’t see the expression on either Archie’s or Everly’s face as he left the room, but he had the distinct impression that he just had the wool pulled over his eyes. The young man appeared sincere enough, but when all was said and done, he gave Knowles nothing. He had a name, but without even checking, he knew that there were probably at least a thousand men in Scotland named Archie McDonald, or MacDonald, whichever it was. What Bobby did know was that the man wasn’t telling the truth. The forensics team confirmed that the attack had not taken place in the crypt, and if Doctor Lomax was correct, which Bobby had no reason to doubt, Archie had faced his attacker, so had to have seen him. The fight took place somewhere else, and the men most likely knew each other, which brought Bobby right back to square one.

  He’d had his men go door-to-door in the village, but no one could remember seeing anyone fitting Archie’s description. No one saw any altercation or noticed anyone suspicious in the village the night before Archie was discovered. The young man’s clothing was made from good fabric, but bore no labels or markings of any kind, nor did his boots. Bobby had the lad fingerprinted while he was asleep, but no match came up in the database. The man was a phantom, and Bobby would have a hell of a time identifying him without more information. It did seem pointless to keep an armed guard outside his door. He was clearly the victim, not the perpetrator, so wasting police time and funds would not be appreciated by the Super.

  Bobby sighed as he walked down the corridor and out of the hospital.

  **

  “How did I do?” Archie asked once he was sure the policeman had gone. Hugo had schooled him in what to say, and Archie went along, not questioning Hugo too closely. He was still in too much discomfort to think clearly, and the only thing he wanted was to see Franny.

  “Brilliantly. Now get some rest. I’ll be back in a few hours. I must go home for a bit.”

  “Don’t rush back. I’m all right. Really,” Archie said. He wasn’t, but he didn’t want to impose. Hugo had been at his side for the past twenty-four hours, and he needed a break. All Archie wanted to do was sleep anyway. The doctor gave him something for the pain, and the medication made him feel sluggish and sleepy. He couldn’t even eat, but he wasn’t hungry anyway. Hugo
said they were feeding him intravenously, whatever that meant. “I’m all right,” Archie repeated stubbornly.

  “I know you are. You’re in good hands, Archie McDonald. I’ll see you soon, and I’ll bring you something that will make you happy.”

  Hugo left the hospital and turned for home. Archie would be all right for an hour or two, and Hugo needed to shower, shave, change his clothes, and get his wallet before he returned to the hospital. He was eager to see Frances as well. He had so many questions. Hugo pulled out his mobile as he walked down the High Street and dialed Neve.

  “Well? How did it go?” she asked, her voice anxious. “Knowles puts me on my guard. Stella says he’s like a dog with a bone, which is what makes him good at his job, I guess.”

  “It went just as you predicted,” Hugo replied, smiling to himself. Neve’s idea had been simple, but clever. “Wild-goose chase initiated, and the guard has been removed.”

  “Excellent,” Neve replied. “Now we just need to bide our time until Archie is better. How is he? Frances is desperate to see him.”

  “He’s even more desperate to see her. I hate keeping them apart like this, especially after what happened, but it’s necessary. Archie is a bit better, but he’s still in a lot of pain. The infection seems to be clearing up, and the incision is healing nicely, according to Doctor Lomax. He’ll need a few more days at the very least before we can even consider moving him.”

  Chapter 62

  Bobby Knowles parked the car and headed toward the constabulary building. At this moment, he would have rather walked over a bed of hot coals, but he couldn’t ignore the summons from the Super. Bobby braced himself as he approached her office, praying that Jess had taken a sick day, but alas, there she was, tapping away on her keyboard, a look of such loathing on her face that he felt as if she’d physically punched him. He’d had no choice but to break it off with her, but she was angry and hurt, and bent on giving him hell. Bobby had a feeling that she would have broken it off with him in time anyway, but he’d taken the decision out of her hands and cited his family as the reason. Jess had called him every name in the book, some too vile to repeat even to himself.

  Perhaps Everly had unwittingly done him a favor. He’d saved him from the biggest mistake of his life. Now that the affair was over and Bobby could look at it more objectively, he realized that he’d been an absolute wanker, a man who permitted his prick to do the thinking for him. He’d risked losing not only Carol and Lucy, but Justin. Bobby’s heart turned over at the thought of his precious little boy. The love he felt for him was the purest thing he’d ever experienced, and no piece of ass, no matter how delectable, was worth losing his son for.

  Already he saw Jess in a different light. He’d been attracted by her innocence, sense of fun, and natural sensuality, but now that the glittering veil of infatuation had been lifted, what he saw was a hard, unfeeling woman, who’d been with dozens of men before him and would probably go through dozens more before even considering anything permanent. She hadn’t felt anything for him other than a kind of perverse pleasure in having the power to take him away from his family and make him break every vow he’d ever taken. Jess was completely devoid of morals and not given to guilt. She wouldn’t have felt an ounce of remorse had he left his family for her. Carol, Lucy, and Justin simply didn’t exist for her — they were completely irrelevant.

  Bobby had never considered himself an overly sentimental or religious person, but at the moment, he felt the kind of self-loathing he’d never experienced before. He could blame Jess all he wanted, but ultimately, the responsibility lay with him. He was the one who was married, the one who risked his family for a tawdry little tryst. He would beg God for forgiveness, and pray that Carol would be spared knowledge of his affair. She might forgive him for the sake of the children, but she would never forget. Her love and trust once lost were lost forever.

  “Morning, Jess,” Bobby said stiffly as he took a seat in the waiting area, as far from her as possible.

  “I hope your bollocks shrivel up and fall off,” Jess replied pleasantly, looking like a praying mantis who was about to bite his head off. “Go in,” she added with a bright smile which scared him to death. What if she decided to tell Carol just to punish him? God, he’d mucked things up for himself.

  Bobby walked into the inner office and took a seat. Superintendent Cummings gazed at him over the rim of her fashionable specs, her expression difficult to read. She looked as stylish as ever, but there was a weariness about her that hadn’t been there before, showing in the lines bracketing her lipsticked mouth and in the bags beneath her eyes. She was under tremendous pressure from above to provide a good result.

  “So, what have you learned about the stabbing at St. Nicolas, Inspector?” she asked in a tone that said “you’d better give me some good news, or I’ll hang you by your testicles.” His balls were very popular today.

  “In a word— nothing.”

  “Care to reconsider that answer? It happened three days ago, and we’ve got nothing? Look harder.”

  Bobby stared down his boss, suddenly outraged. It wasn’t fair. He’d done everything he could, left no stone unturned, but there really was nothing. Bobby sucked in his breath and quickly counted to ten to cool his rage. Lashing out at the Super would do his career no favors. Once he felt calmer, he finally replied, infusing his tone with all the respect he could muster at the moment.

  “Ma’am, the victim’s name is Archie McDonald, which might as well be John Smith. He has no ID of any kind, so we have to take his word for it, a word I don’t trust for a second since I am positive that he’s either lying or simply holding something back. He claims to be from Scotland, but can’t recall exactly where, having been hit on the head, or just using his injuries as an excuse to withhold information.” Bobby ignored the Super’s thunderous expression and went on.

  “Johnson fingerprinted him, but we found no match in the database. We’ve also found nothing useful at the crime scene. There’s no weapon or any other clues. We did find some strands of long blonde hair and a broken fingernail which belong to a woman. Even if the woman in question was not just someone who’d gone down to gawk at the crypt, there’s no way the damage McDonald sustained could have been inflicted by a woman. We are looking for a man, possibly two.

  We’ve also been questioning the villagers for the past two days, going door to door, but no one has seen anything even remotely helpful. So, in a word, we have nothing.”

  “What do Forensics have to say?” the Super asked, unimpressed with his speech.

  “Again, nothing, ma’am. St. Nicolas’s crypt had been under construction for the past few months. Everyone and their mother trampled through there.”

  “Blood?”

  “There’s only McDonald’s blood. No one else’s.”

  “Have you questioned the local “talent”? I hear Alfie Doggett is out on parole.”

  “Spoke to Alfie and all his mates. No one has seen or heard anything. Alfie has a watertight alibi for that night. Everything I’ve tried is a dead end.”

  “Do you realize how incompetent this makes us look? A young man gets violently attacked in a church, for God’s sake, and nearly bleeds to death, and no one, NO ONE, knows anything of value. What am I to do with that, Knowles?”

  “Do what you wish, ma’am, but the facts speak for themselves. And he wasn’t attacked at the church; he was attacked someplace else, which makes this case even stranger, since there’s no physical evidence that he was dragged down the stairs or across the floor of the crypt.”

  “Are you suggesting that he stabbed himself and went to the crypt to die, making sure that he cleaned up all the blood on the steps first before passing out?” Superintendent Cummins roared, now truly furious.

  “I’m suggesting no such thing, but we haven’t found a single clue as to what happened.”

  The Super glared at him over her glasses, her color slowly returning to normal. She was normally a very reasonable person, but
as any superior, she was under a lot of pressure to perform, or, at least, to take measures when her people weren’t performing. She ran a hand through her hair and stared out the window for a moment, deep in thought.

  “Bobby, I think you should take some well-deserved leave. Spend some time with your family. I’m sure Carol would appreciate an extra pair of hands around the house. Two weeks, say?”

  “That’s utterly unfair, ma’am,” Bobby exploded, feeling cornered and humiliated.

  “Is it? Jess has made a complaint of sexual harassment against you. I talked her out of it, but she’s angry, and she will act on her anger if nothing is done. You are a good copper, Bobby, and a fine detective, but sometimes it’s wise to take a step back and reevaluate the situation. Your personal peccadillos are affecting your judgment and your job. Sort yourself out, Inspector. We’ll talk in two weeks. In the meantime, hand over the case to DI Sutherland. Good day.”

  Bobby stormed from the office. He’d have liked to strangle Jess, but luckily for her, she wasn’t at her desk. She’d indulged in their affair with her eyes open. She knew about his family, knew he would never leave his wife. At no time did he make any promises. It was all just a bit of fun. Well, not anymore. Bobby slammed the door as he exited into the street and made for the nearest bar. It wasn’t even noon yet, but he needed a drink quite badly.

  Chapter 63

  I held Frances’s hand as she stared around the examining room, intimidated by all the equipment. Frances had had a lot to absorb over the past few days, her senses on overload as she tried to wrap her mind around all the things she was seeing and hearing. To a person with seventeenth-century sensibilities, this was like magic, and I suppose it was. I insisted that Frances rest as much as possible, and I think she was grateful for hours of silence in a darkened room, a place where she could push aside all the wondrous and frightening things she’d seen and just be alone. She missed Archie dreadfully, and had nearly gotten hysterical when she heard his voice on the telephone, but she managed to hold it together and speak to him, although she refused to put the phone to her ear, and I had to set in on speaker mode. I snapped a few pictures of Frances once she calmed down and assured her that Archie would see them within a few minutes, just as soon as I sent them to Hugo’s mobile, which made her smile with wonder. She asked to see the photos and stared at them for a long while, amazed that her likeness had been caught so quickly and accurately.