And how does one dethrone a king?
A murmur of agitated voices found its way to Ainsley’s room from downstairs. Ainsley could tell there was someone at the door, but who it was he could not say.
“If you’ll just let me see him,” said a female voice, the drumming of the pouring rain outside nearly drowning out her words.
“You must use the servants’ entrance,” Violetta commanded, her hand firmly on the door.
When Ainsley came to the top of the stairs all he could see was their maid at the front door and a silhouette of a woman opposite her.
“Please, I haven’t any time. I must speak with him!”
Shaking her head, Violetta began to push the door closed.
“Violetta, who is it?” Ainsley demanded halfway down the stairs. “Let them in.”
After a moment’s pause, Violetta pulled the door open and stepped aside. On the other side of the threshold, hunched against the relentless rain, Julia stood, a tattered cloak pulled over her shoulders. Ainsley stopped at the bottom of the stairs, his hand clasped tightly on the bannister, the only thing keeping him from falling to a heap on the floor. He closed his eyes for a second, wondering if it was just a dream, and when he opened them he saw that she had stepped in the door and was walking toward him.
Relief, sadness, overwhelming joy, and grief enveloped him. His limbs trembled at the sight of her, safe and within arm’s reach. He finally let go of the bannister and went to her, rushing to scoop her into his arms and whisk her away.
She was alive. Oh, thank God, she was alive!
“Peter, who’s at the door?” Margaret appeared at the top of the stairs with Aunt Louisa close behind her “Julia!”
Ignoring them, Ainsley wrapped his arms around Julia and kissed her, madly, passionately, not caring who witnessed it or what they might think. He touched the side of her face and relished the overpowering delight in feeling her skin against his. How dare Violetta banish her to the servants’ door? As far as Ainsley saw it, she would never use the servants’ entrance ever again. He felt her one arm wrap around him as he embraced her and he could feel the smile on her lips as she kissed him back.
And then something moved between them. A tiny flicker and then a squeak of a cough. Ainsley pulled away and saw that the cloak had fallen away in their embrace. A helpless infant no more than three months old was cradled in Julia’s arm, held tightly to her body.
“Who is this?” Ainsley asked, smiling at the cooing baby.
“This is Lucy, my brother’s daughter.”
Aunt Louisa and Margaret made their way down the stairs. “Where is your brother then and the child’s mother?” Aunt Louisa asked cautiously.
“There is so much I must tell you,” she said, adjusting the baby in her arms. Their happy homecoming was marred by fear in her eyes and a terrified jitter to her voice.
“Where have you been all this time?” Margaret asked. “We’ve been searching everywhere.”
“My deepest apologies, Miss Margaret,” Julia began. She looked back to Ainsley, still clutching his arm as if he would fall away from her. “I went to find my brother. I think he is dead and his wife as well.”
Chapter 20
“Come to the library,” Aunt Louisa urged, waving her arms for Julia, Ainsley, and Margaret to follow her. “Violetta, I’m sure you have other duties to perform before bed.”
Chagrined, Violetta nodded and headed for the servants’ stairs.
Ainsley kept a hand on Julia’s back as they walked side by side to the library. Aunt Louisa stood at the door until everyone had entered and then closed it. “Well, now we can have this conversation without prying eyes and ears,” she said, somewhat pleased at her own cleverness. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that display of affection at the door.”
“You have been gone for days,” Ainsley said.
“I know. My—”
“Have you been with your brother this entire time?” Margaret asked.
“Yes, I mean, no. He wasn’t there when I arrived. Mary, my brother’s wife, was in such a state. I couldn’t just leave Lucy with no one to care for her.” The baby started to squirm and wriggle in Julia’s arms.
Aunt Louisa reached out her hands to the baby. “Come now,” she said. “The wee thing needs to sit with me.” She took the baby to one of the armchairs, sat down, and began entertaining her with funny faces.
Slowly, Margaret and Julia took seats on the sofa while Ainsley pulled an armchair closer before sitting down. Julia turned to look at him. “I hadn’t meant to be gone this long, honestly. I just needed to make sure he was all right.”
“What made you believe he wasn’t all right?” Margaret asked.
“It was the man killed in front of the Talbots,” Ainsley explained. “And the miniature of Saint Christopher.”
“Yes.” Julia swallowed nervously. “I knew once I saw it he had sent it for me. The man was Jeremiah Locke, my brother’s neighbour. They were trying to warn me.”
“About what?” Margaret’s voice cracked. “You haven’t an enemy in all of Christendom.”
Julia looked abashed and averted her gaze. “There are things of which neither of you know about.”
Margaret huffed. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as that.” Her face fell as Ainsley and Julia grew quiet. “Is it?”
“My husband is a very dangerous man,” Julia said.
“Husband?” Margaret nearly popped up from her chair.
“It’s all right,” Ainsley said, reaching over and placing a hand on top of Julia’s. “I won’t ever let that man near you again.”
“No, you don’t understand. Mary is dead. I heard them do it as I ran away with Lucy. I have to go back and make sure she is given a Christian burial.”
“Did Thaddeus do it?” Ainsley asked, feeling his jaw tighten and his fist clench.
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see. It all happened so fast. They kicked in the door and Mary was screaming. I ducked out the window and held Lucy tight to my chest so she wouldn’t make a sound. I was so terrified I would smother her, but if they heard us I knew they would kill us.” A tear spilled over her lower eyelid. “She told them where I was and begged them to not hurt her baby. I couldn’t stay. I had to run.”
“Who was it, Julia? What did they want?” Ainsley inched to the edge of his seat, ready to hunt down Thaddeus as soon as she gave the word.
“They wanted me. Nothing else. Just me.” Her silent tears gave way to sobs as the memory of the previous hours enveloped her. “She’s always hated me, and the relationship I had with my brother.”
Unable to hear anymore, Ainsley stood. “I have to find Simms,” he said.
Julia and Margaret left their chairs and followed him out into the hall. “Peter, wait!” cried Margaret.
“They will come here next, Margaret. Believe me, they will come here and no one will be safe.” Ainsley was at the front door and pulling on the handle when Julia appeared beside him.
“I’m coming with you.”
“No. Absolutely not. You stay with Lucy and Margaret. I can’t have you out there alone again.” He laid a gentle hand on the side of her face and pulled at the tear streaks on her cheeks with his thumb. He opened the door and stepped outside into the portico.
The hammering rain pounded the pavement ruthlessly, drowning out the noise of the city. A second later the door opened again and Julia popped outside beside him. She handed him his coat and an umbrella.
“I wasn’t asking,” she said without inflection.
It would take too long to hitch the horses to the carriage and there were no carriages for hire in sight, so Ainsley and Julia ran the streets to Great Scotland Yard, aware that their clothes were soaked within the first block, and holding hands the entire time.
Scotland Yard was overrun with officers and civilians alike. A pool of rainwater sat stagnant at the front door, its near-constant opening and closing sending the rain into the building. The usual hum of the office had b
een replaced by angry shouts and whistles as officers called over the melee to their partners. The desk sergeant looked inundated and overrun and was barely able to look up when Ainsley approached him.
“Where’s Simms?” he asked, holding fast to Julia’s hand as she stood slightly behind him. He would have rather put his arm around her to keep her from being pulled into the scrum but holding hands was much more discreet than that.
Sergeant Fisher huffed. “Haven’t seen hide nor hair of him,” he said. A crash came from the right side and the sergeant was forced to look up. “You two, sit down!” he bellowed, pointing a sharp finger at two boys in handcuffs along the wall. They couldn’t have been more than ten years old and already bore the look of the other hardened criminals in the building. When the sergeant turned back to Ainsley he looked even less pleased than before. “You’re welcome to wait for him here,” he said, but Ainsley was already scribbling a note.
“Just tell him we’ve gone here,” he said, handing it over. “But be cautious.”
The sergeant barely looked at it and tossed it somewhere in the mess of his desk. Another handful of loose papers were thrust at him even as Ainsley turned to lead Julia from the throng.
“You don’t look so good, yeah?” one of the boys on the bench said, a smile revealing a mouth with only half his original teeth. “You were that toff my man took a liking too, yeah?”
Sneering, Ainsley stopped to look them over. The boy next to him on the bench smiled, but he looked far less assured than the one who spoke. “Yeah, it was you,” he said, laughing openly. “Didn’t recognize you, what, with all t’at…damage, yeah?”
Ainsley could feel nothing but pity for them, commissioned into the ranks of the likes of Thaddeus before they even had a chance in the world. Choosing a criminal life, protected by even a temperamental leader, was better than what awaited them on the cobblestones of London.
Recognition dawned on the other boy’s face as they stood there. He sat up straighter suddenly, interested in the woman standing behind Ainsley. “I know you,” he said, unease sweeping over him. “They be looking for you.” His voice cracked as he spoke.
The other boy looked much less alarmed but extremely pleased. “Won’t Thaddy be happy to hear it were me who saw her wit’ the toff.”
Ainsley could feel Julia inch behind him, as if asking him to protect her. “Let’s leave,” she whispered.
“’Ey, ’ey!” the boy yelled as Ainsley turned her toward the door. “Watch out! E’s coming for ye. E’ll be coming for bot’ of ye!”
Outside, Ainsley scanned the street, suddenly paranoid. The rain had left a slick sheen on all surfaces, making Northumberland Avenue shine black. He could feel Julia closely behind him, both hands clutching his. “We’ll take a cab,” he said, seeing one a few paces away.
It wasn’t long before they were in Spitalfields. They paid their fare to the driver at Bethnal Green Road and approached Old Nelson Street on foot.
At first Ainsley led, but after they walked one block Julia tugged at his arm from behind.
“It’s this way,” she said, nudging her head to the right.
She let go of his hand as they moved through the alley, the second floor of the building closing in around them the farther they went. A rat scurried past, bounding over mounds of refuge left along the crumbling brick wall. Ainsley felt something stick to his boot but he kept going, not willing to have Julia alone in such a place. He banished all thoughts of her running for her life through the pouring rain with little Lucy clutched in her arms.
The covered alley opened up to a wider courtyard where muddied linen dangled from loose clotheslines and piles of garbage littered the space. With purpose, Julia walked past a group of people arguing amongst themselves and headed for another narrow passage between the buildings. The group stopped to watch, enthralled, as Ainsley followed her.
“How long has your brother, Robert, lived here?” Ainsley asked as she approached a rickety wooden staircase. A steady stream of stormwater slid down the side of the building, eroding the brick as many other storms had previously.
“A few months,” she said. “Their flat before this one burnt down in a fire. Mary was lucky to escape with her life.”
At the top of the stairs they slid through a doorway and down a hall. Julia slowed her steps as she neared an open door. A shadow was cast on the hallway wall from inside the flat and they could hear rummaging.
“This is it?” Ainsley mouthed as they approach.
She nodded.
He bent down and picked a metal pipe that had been laying along the floor. It felt heavy and awkward in his grasp, but it was that or a rotten piece of wood that would surely crumble on impact. He motioned for Julia to get behind him as he inched for the door.
Ainsley’s heart raced as he stood with his back against the hallway wall. The shadow had grown dim as whoever was inside went farther into the room. He held his hand out to Julia, telling her to wait there, before tightening his grip around the pipe and jumping around the doorframe.
“What are you doing here?” he yelled as he charged for the figure in the far room, the pipe ready to swing.
The figure turned around, a stick in his own grasp ready to strike at Ainsley.
“Simms?”
Ainsley lowered his weapon and Simms heaved a sigh of relief. Ainsley eyed him thankfully as his heart rate returned to normal. “I thought you were one of Thaddeus’s men,” Ainsley said apologetically.
“I had the same thought.”
Julia crept in the room and Ainsley noticed the front door hadn’t been opened but rather smashed in, the frame barely hanging on to the wall. What little furniture the couple had owned had been tossed about and smashed. The table was overturned and much of their personal belongings lay discarded and trampled on. Taking it in, Ainsley realized he was very lucky not to have walked in farther or he would have tripped over a body that lay in the rubble.
“She’s dead,” Simms said, even as Ainsley knelt to take her pulse.
“Mary,” Julia said, somberly. Even in the dim light, Ainsley could see she was holding back her tears.
Dressed in a modest frock of muslin, hand-sewn and paper-thin, Mary’s body lay on her side, her arms raised as if to protect her head. Ainsley moved her arm away from her face and saw a series of small gashes on her cheeks, chin, and neck. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and used it to clear away some of the blood that had gathered at her throat.
“They aren’t deep enough to kill her,” Ainsley said, knowing Simms was waiting for preliminary findings. Ainsley looked over the torso and then rolled the body onto her front. That’s when he noticed the large collection of blood that had seeped into the raw wood floors. Two puncture wounds entered the lower back on either side of the spine. “They attacked her kidneys,” Ainsley said, closing his eyes momentarily. “It’s a brutal way to die.”
“Was it instant?” Julia asked from behind him.
Ainsley shook his head but couldn’t bring himself to say the words.
“I should have stayed. I could have helped her.”
Ainsley stood and faced her. “No, you did the right thing for you and Lucy.”
“Why the smaller cuts then if they didn’t do much damage?” Simms asked.
“They are painful and no one wants scars to their face.” Ainsley looked down with empathy. “They tortured her. They probably wanted information about Julia’s whereabouts.”
Julia knelt down and took Mary’s hand into her own. She lowered her head and kissed Mary’s knuckles. “Hail Mary, full of grace…pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” Julia sniffled and planted another kiss on Mary’s hand before laying her arm down gently.
Ainsley and Simms exchanged glances.
“She never did like me,” Julia said, rising to stand.
Ainsley stopped himself from reaching out to her. Their eyes met and held each other for many seconds.
“You were here for all
of this?” Simms asked, breaking the reverie.
“I was in the other room when they broke in. I took the baby out the window with me. I didn’t know what they intended to do but I knew it wasn’t good.”
Ainsley looked into the adjoining room, where a cracked window led out onto a narrow ledge that hovered over a twenty-foot drop. A mound of discarded, broken wood and garbage that had been thrown out and left to rot waited at the bottom. He could just make out a space where Julia could have hid with the baby. “How did you get down?” he asked. He turned to find Julia had followed him.
“There’s a stairwell on the other side of that building,” she said, gesturing toward an adjoining structure.
“You scaled the roof? In that rain?” Simms asked from behind her.
Julia nodded. “I ran for help but saw no one. Everyone was in from the rain so I just kept running.”
“Do you know where Robert is?” Simms asked.
Julia shook her head. “I came here straight after I spoke with Mr. Marshall at the hospital, but he was already gone. Mary was in such a state and Lucy wouldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t just leave her so I sat and waited with them, hoping that each set of footsteps outside the door was Robert who had come back.”
Ainsley pulled a silver-plated picture frame from a ledge. The grainy picture was of a young man and girl in orphanage uniforms standing in front of a brick wall. Ainsley recognized the wall instantly as the foundling home where Julia and Robert grew up. The girl, with a solemn expression, stared blankly ahead while the boy, nearly a foot taller, glanced off to the side with a look of disdain.
“Mrs. Holliwell had these done,” she said. “She did it for everyone. Her friend was only learning.”
It was then that recognition dawned on him. “I know where Robert is,” he said. “He’s in Southwark with Thaddeus.”
Prayers for the Dying Page 17