by April White
“Archer, I…” He turned his back to me and there was nothing else to say. I felt like he’d been on the verge of forgiving me for a moment, but I’d just slammed the door on that, maybe forever. The pit in my stomach grew to Grand Canyon-size, so I caught Ringo’s eye and we silently slipped out of the room, closing and locking the door behind us.
We didn’t say much on the way back to Ringo’s loft. My guts were churning, and I don’t know what Ringo was thinking about, but he suddenly went on alert as we rounded the corner to his alley. Every muscle in his body tensed, and then I finally saw it. A bundle against the wall that I had taken for a pile of trash was actually a small person, wrapped tightly in a blanket. The eyes opened and watched our wary approach. Ringo opened the back door to his building and gave the bundle a nod. Charlie stood and dropped the blanket down around her shoulders as she followed us inside the hall.
I was about to speak to her, but Ringo shushed me until all three of us were up the closet ladder to his loft. He checked the windows, lit the fire, and put the tea kettle on to boil. I gestured for Charlie to sit while I gathered cups and saucers for all of us.
I picked up my old backpack and started poking through it to see what the Ripper had left me so Ringo spoke first. “Ye spent the night in my alley?”
Charlie nodded; her expression hadn’t changed since she got here. She opened her mouth to speak, couldn’t find her voice, then cleared her throat and tried again. “He came last night. Alone. Mary lied to ye about not seeing the fancy lady and I think she felt bad. She faced him down. Said he best turn her loose or she’d put the coppers on him.”
I gasped. The thing I hadn’t told Mary Kelly was that the pockmarked man was a serial killer who had already murdered four women. The guilt which had been lurking since my conversation with Archer suddenly gnawed its way through my guts like vermin. Charlie turned her vacant gaze to me as if she had just read my mind.
“I knew he was bad. Anyone with half a brain could see the rot in him. Mary didn’t care, and he killed her.”
I knew what that murder scene looked like from the grisly police photos in the Ripper Archives and dread filled me. “Where were you?”
Her eyes were still frighteningly empty. “Hiding.” Anguish suddenly flooded her face. “There was nothing… I couldn’t…” She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then faced us both again with a spooky calm. “I just shut my eyes and held my ears until it was done.”
Ringo’s voice was kinder than I’d ever heard him speak. Kinder than I thought it was possible for a teenaged boy to be. “And you lived. There’s no shame in hiding, Charlie. Mary wanted ye to live and it’s what she would have chosen.”
The kettle started whistling and I got up the pour the tea. “I don’t understand how she could be dead? He didn’t kill her until November ninth.”
Ringo whispered. “But it’s been November ninth since midnight, hasn’t it, Charlie?”
She nodded mutely. I wanted to kick myself for not making them come with us. In fact, the whole thing was my fault, because Mary certainly wouldn’t have confronted the Ripper if I hadn’t made her feel bad about it. I had caused the death of Mary Kelly.
Just like I’d caused my mother’s abduction by calling out to her in Whitechapel Station. Which meant she hadn’t gone to speak on Will Shaw’s behalf. And Archer would somehow be made a Vampire because of me.
I opened a window and took gasping breaths, trying to clear my head of the terrible things I’d done as I stumbled around in time.
The morning was crisp and the marshy scent of the river carried on the breeze. I leaned my head against the window frame and looked out at the gray sky. I had to fix this. I had to fix it all.
I faced Charlie. “I’m so sorry about your sister. I will try to make it up to you if I can. I don’t know how, but I will try.”
“Me too, lass.” Ringo’s quiet voice filled the silence and I was humbled by his goodness.
“Mary was my only family.” Charlie looked at both of us through tears. I knew the wall she must have built around herself to be able to survive her sister’s murder. And now how much it cost her to let it down.
“Well, if you’ll have us, we’ll be your family.” Ringo looked to me for confirmation.
I nodded. “I’ve never had a sister before.”
Charlie looked me straight in the eyes. “Mine meant well, but she wasn’t good at it. Maybe you’ll be better?” I nodded and pulled her into a hug. I think she was as startled by it as I was, but it felt good to let go of a little of the misery.
Bedlam
Ringo and I left Charlie asleep on my bed in his loft. After today I figured it would revert back to Ringo since this was pretty much my last ditch effort to find my mom.
I transferred the contents of my old backpack into the leather messenger bag. Most everything was still there except the stabbed can of red paint. The leather bag was getting kind of full and I briefly considered leaving behind the bandages and chloroform from my catacomb stash, but in the end decided it was better to be prepared. I did allow myself one last lingering look at my dress though, before I left it behind.
I actually did have someone on the inside of Bedlam who might know where my mom was being held. And hopefully he still had an intact brain to help me. My mother’s drawings of Bethlem Hospital showed the window where Will Shaw had stood. I needed to find that room.
Ringo lead the way to Bedlam. He was silent for much of our walk, and when he finally spoke he surprised me with his anguish.
“How am I going to take care of her?”
“Huh? Who?”
“Charlie. She can’t stay with me, it’d be improper. Where can she go?”
I rolled my eyes. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been staying with you for the past week and that worked out just fine.”
“But you said it doesn’t matter in your time. Her reputation would be ruined if anyone ever found out.”
I stopped on the street and stared at Ringo with my hands on my hips. “First, no one knows where you live anyway, so keeping her presence a secret will be easy. Second, in case you hadn’t noticed who Charlie’s sister is…was…” Instant stomach-ache. “…and how she disguises herself, I don’t think Charlie’s too worried about her reputation. As long as she stays in boy’s clothes, you have no issue. And why is it your problem anyway? We’re in this together.”
Ringo considered my arguments for a moment, then finally grinned in a way I could only describe as cheeky. “Because I’m the responsible one in the bunch, or hadn’t you noticed?”
Just for that I punched him in the arm. Not full strength, but enough to show what I could do. He looked surprised for about a millisecond, and then rolled his eyes. “Ye hit like a girl.”
“Wanker.” British insults made me laugh, but the surprised look on Ringo’s face almost sent me into hysterics.
“Minger.”
“What’s a Minger?”
Ringo’s mischievous look was back. “If ye were on fire ye’d be put out with a shovel.”
“Nice.” The light banter continued all the way until we got to the wall around Bethlem Hospital. I recognized the rotunda at the entrance and pulled out the drawing my mother had made.
“I think this is looking at the back side of the building.” Ringo agreed and we found a climbable section of wall overhung by a stand of trees.
My old callouses from free-running had softened, and the new ones I’d gotten while climbing the ropes were still sore. So it hurt to climb that wall, but it was the right kind of pain. The kind that could be fixed with a Band-Aid.
Ringo’s eyes were glued to Bedlam and he suddenly spotted how my mom had gotten so close. “There are outdoor courtyards behind those walls.” Of course the only way to get to one was to bolt across open park-land. And if it was the wrong one… He looked at me. “Ready?”
We left at the same moment and sprinted across the wide-open grass. Less than a minute later we were at the wall.
This one was smoother, with no obvious handholds. I guess that if you’re keeping crazy people in, you don’t give them easy ways out.
Ringo boosted me and then I reached down and pulled him to the top. It only worked because we’re both strong and fairly light. Archer might have been able to do it, but I’m not sure Adam could have.
I said a silent prayer that this was the right wing, otherwise we were going to have to do this all over again. We tucked into the corner of the wall and I pulled the drawing out of my messenger bag, then scanned the edifice in front of us.
“It looks like the right one.” Ringo’s voice was a whisper at my shoulder. I thought so, too. The angles and perspective seemed correct, and I counted windows at the far end of the building until I found the one I thought was Will Shaw’s.
“There.” Ringo followed my gaze and nodded.
“Let me see if I can find a way in.” He took off toward the end of the wing and I stayed in my hiding spot watching for observers. I began to worry after about ten minutes. Finally, just as I was about to charge in after him, Ringo appeared at my shoulder. He looked disappointed. “No way in. Place is locked up tighter than a prison.”
“Will called himself an inmate.”
“Right, well your inmate is definitely behind bars. I don’t see any other way in than your tunnel from King’s College.”
I’d been thinking about the name that Bishop Cleary found in the Bethlem Hospital logs and realized that, like it or not, there may be things I was fated to do after all. “Or the front door.”
Ringo stared at me. “You’re not thinking of waltzing up to the entrance like you have legitimate business, are you? Why would they have any reason at all to let you in?”
“They already have.”
I told him about my signature as we ran back to the outer wall and headed around the building to the front rotunda. On the way, we formulated a plan. Ringo would check on Archer, who may be waking up and ready for his next med by now. We both knew it couldn’t be me who went back, and there was a very good chance Archer would never speak to me again.
Ringo would then go through the tunnel to the Bedlam Cellars so he could help me get my mother out, assuming Will could help me find her. It was sort of a feeble plan, but it was the best we could do with the information we had.
Ringo grabbed my hand before I headed toward the massive front doors. “Do you want me to tell him anything from you?”
I searched his face. Ringo looked worried and it made my heart hurt for him. He was only a kid who had been taking care of himself for so long it made him more adult than most men. “I think I pretty much said it all, don’t you? I mean, I chose my mother, right?”
He shook his head. “I think he understands.”
The too-familiar ache started working its way into my stomach. “It’s better if he doesn’t come. Because the way things are going, it’ll be just my luck to run into a Vampire.”
Ringo scoffed with a mischievous grin. “That’ll get him here for sure.” Then he took my hand and kissed the back of it in a very gentlemanly move. “Let’s do this.”
On a whim I pulled the leather cord out from under my sweater and tugged it over my head. I handed the necklace to Ringo. Two keys dangled from it. “The big key opens the door to the Bedlam Cellar. If I get caught I don’t want to have it on me.” Ringo nodded and slipped the cord around his neck.
I gave him a small wave before I headed up the stone steps. I had Ringo’s cap on and had tucked my hair down the back of Archer’s black cashmere turtleneck. I was hoping that I’d be treated differently as a guy than if I’d come in wearing a dress, but other than that, I had a fairly simple plan.
The guard behind the desk looked at his watch as I entered the lobby. “It’s ten minutes until end of visiting hours.”
“No worries. I’m just here to pick up a hyoscene prescription. If they have it ready I’ll be back out in less than five.”
The guard barely heard my explanation as he pushed the sign-in sheet toward me. I signed, ‘S. Elian,’ just as Bishop Cleary had found in the Bedlam papers. “You know where to go? Straight ahead and to your left.” I nodded and headed in the direction the guard pointed.
The moment I was out of sight I stepped behind a column and waited, counting silently to myself. I heard a door slam down a hall and quickly bent to tie my boot laces, but no one came. Then, a minute later, I turned back toward the lobby. The guard looked up in surprise. “That was fast.”
I shrugged, trying my best to look nonchalant. “Not ready yet. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
Just then a rock went crashing through the glass window on the far side of the rotunda. The guard bolted toward it, calling out ‘stop!’ I instantly changed direction and slipped behind a column so I was hidden from the guard’s sight. I knew Ringo would get away before anyone spotted him as the rock-thrower, but my plan relied in the guard believing I’d left the building. Hopefully the broken glass was diversion enough.
I breathed deeply as I scanned the hall around me for other staff, but none came, so I opened the left wing door and slipped inside.
The long gallery hall was empty and I tried to walk as casually as I could down the carpeted length. The room we’d spotted from outside was at the end of this wing and I was just hoping my luck would hold long enough to get there.
I heard a moan from behind one of the doors and stopped in my tracks. I listened carefully; heart pounding and muscles trembling with the effort it took to stay perfectly still.
There was no other sound. I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that this was a patient wing, but I couldn’t very well crawl down the rest of the hallway. So I stood up very slowly and looked in at the window of the door I’d stopped in front of.
A face stared back at me. Right at the window. Wide-eyed, female, and very definitely crazy. I ducked down instantly, but it didn’t matter. She’s seen me, and now she started to scream.
Oh. Crap!
My feet grew wings like they’d never had before and I was down that gallery corridor so fast it was like I wasn’t even there. A door slammed upstairs, and running feet echoed above me.
I turned a corner and found myself in what looked like a separate waiting area with another closed door. The door had been wedged open the tiniest bit by the floor mat in front of it. The handle was locked, but it hadn’t latched properly so I was able to pull it open and slip inside. I made sure the mat was still in place so it didn’t close behind me and I could hear Ringo’s voice in my head, warning me to ‘have a plan to get out or it could cost your life.’
Well, there was my plan. A rug in the door.
The general alarm was sounding and inmates were starting to show their faces at the windows of this much smaller wing. They were men, which meant I was in the right wing, but some of them were downright creepy. It was only a matter of time before someone started searching this wing so this was pretty much my only chance. I made the most of it.
“Will! Will Shaw!” I yelled in as controlled a yell as I could manage. No need to bring the guards down before they thought of coming themselves.
A man’s face popped up in the window close to where I stood. He was scabby-looking and frankly, revolting, and for a moment I wondered if I hadn’t made a massive mistake.
But Scabby pointed next door and mouthed the words “Will Shaw” to me. I smiled at him and he tipped an imaginary hat to me like a gentleman. Who knew manners could exist in a horrible place like this?
I looked in at the window to Will Shaw’s room. A large man was sitting on the edge of the single bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. His fingers ran through scruffy, badly-cut hair absently, and I was forcibly reminded of his descendent, Mr. Shaw, by that gesture.
He must have sensed my presence because he looked over at the window and stood up in one fluid motion. He moved like predator might: all liquid grace and deadly strength. He pulled a sweater over his head and came to the door.
“Saira.”
&
nbsp; Will Shaw said my name plainly, with no question in it at all. It was the strangest feeling I’ve ever had, being known to this man I’d barely seen once, from a cupboard, as he was being dragged down the hall. A man who had no reason at all to know my face.
My hand instinctively found its way to the handle of his door. And strangely, the door opened. Just like that I was face-to-face with Will Shaw.
“I need to find my mom.” If I thought it was strange he knew me, it was madness that he understood what I was saying.
“They have her in the cellars. Where they bled me. I’ve heard them down there.” Right, the floor vent with great acoustics. Will’s voice sounded like he was strangling on the words.
“We need to get her.” I said it like I had a plan. Like I’d been rehearsing those words in my head and knew what to do next.
A door slammed above us and running feet headed toward the rotunda. And so did we. I took off toward my rug-in-the-door, not even waiting to see if Will was behind me. He was though. He kept pace with me easily and probably had a good five or six inches on me in height. Which made him massive for this time. I guess massive must run in the Shaw family.
The rotunda had big, round columns that protected us from sight of the guard’s desk. I indicated the heavy wood door to the cellars where Archer and I would escape in my time, and we were able to make it there unseen by the guard. No gate was in place and the door was locked, but the lucky Gods were still on my side because a heavy iron key was perched in the lock. I turned it and the door opened.
Footsteps were now running down stairs from above and I knew we’d be seen in a second. I locked the door behind us and we each held a wall to guide ourselves down the stairs to the cellars beneath Bedlam. I touched down after about twenty steps and pulled my leather bag around to the front of my body. Stashed in the pocket for easy access was my mini Maglite, which I clicked on to survey the room.
We moved toward the side wing, near where I’d stood to speak with him the last time I’d been here. We could hear the sounds of yelling voices and running feet in the hall above us and I pointed at the grate through which I’d first heard his voice.