CHAPTER TWENTY-FOURSaturday, 21 August, 1869When Harriet woke the next morning, her mouth was parched and her tongue still slightly swollen. But with her first priority clear in her mind, she was ready for the new day. Breakfast passed without incident. She sat silently through the meal and once again played through the events of the day of the cake delivery. Her memory was a jumble. All she could remember was the confusion around them when she and Ellen had staggered out of their room. That, and the fact that before she was taken to the infirmary by Mrs. Craven, Bill Callahan had been there.Should she report Ellen’s disappearance to Mrs. Fishburn? The Matron would first ask what she had done to find Ellen, so she would wait until she had exhausted all other possibilities.Excused from straw plaiting until Monday, she decided to speak to Mrs. Trotter again. Ask her if she had seen Bill Callahan or heard any information that might connect to Ellen’s whereabouts. Harriet made her
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEMonday, 23 March Alex shuffled out of Hamish’s office and checked his watch. Eleven fifty-five. Paul was meeting him here at twelve. He scratched at the stubble on his chin and sat down on the hard plastic chair.He distracted himself by contemplating the woman at the cluttered desk opposite him. Hamish’s new secretary. Zena Theodorou. A female version of Paul without the bald patch. His mind flicked to Paul hugging Claire before the Greek Food and Wine party, while he’d stood back and found fault with her hair and face. His stomach churned. Christ, he’d been a smug shit. And now it was too late to—“Hi, Alex. Sorry I’m late.”The clock above Zena’s head read 12:03. Alex stood so he was level with Paul’s eyes and the concern in them.“You okay?” Paul asked. “I heard you moving around early this morning but by the time I was up, you’d gone.”“I’m still not sleeping much.”“Let’s go somewhere quiet, get a drink and some lunch.” Paul glanced at Zena. She gave
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIXSunday, 22 August, 1869 Having completed a morning constitutional of unparalleled boredom, Nottidge stepped into the main foyer with Sheridan Lush. Almost immediately a red-eyed barefooted figure rushed toward them, arms outstretched.Lush raised his whistle to alert the attendants when she called out, “No! Please don’t do that. I must speak with you. It’s very important. Please.” The last word came out as a pitiful sob. Lush’s hand paused in front of his mouth.Nottidge eyed the girl’s thin shift, unkempt hair, and tears with irritation. Could no one keep these lunatics in check? He would get Callahan to sort out the culprits. He looked again at the girl—quite attractive and prone to a bit of drama—so then maybe he wouldn’t. Here was an unexpected chance to amuse himself: and perhaps trifle with the sanctimonious Lush.“What’s your problem?” Nottidge asked.“Ellen’s dead, oh God, Ellen’s dead,” she cried. “Poor Ellen, poor Ellen, all our plans.”Nottidge hel
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENFriday, 27 March To Alex, the brightness of the sunshine for Claire’s funeral seemed inappropriate. He felt numb with uncertainty, guilt, and confusion. Was he really so shallow? Claire wasn’t even buried yet and he had slept with her best friend. Was this his way of getting his own back? If so, he felt like a heel but Marianne had been so hot, and he more than ready for it. The sex had been awesome. For Christ’s sake, he shouldn’t be thinking of such a thing now. He stood before Claire’s open grave and refocused his mind.The glare of the sun grew increasingly uncomfortable. He closed his eyes and listened as the vicar read the dismissal, then repeated “Amen” with the rest of the mourners.He opened his eyes and gazed across the churchyard. Moira Bradigan stood on an incline staring at them. She wore darkish clothes accompanied by a bright hat and scarf.The vicar cast a handful of earth onto the coffin. Alex did the same before several others close by repea
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTSelected Extracts from Coroner’s InquestBELLE VUE INSANE ASYLUMBefore Robert Gribble Esquire,Her Majesty’s Coroner for the County of Hertfordshire.Re: Ellen Catherine Grady, DeceasedREGINA v MARY GRADYDepositions of Witnesses taken at the Coroner’s Inquest13th September 1869 – 20th September 1869Witnesses for the CoronerRE: Ellen Catherine Grady deceasedREGINA v MARY GRADYInformation of witnesses severally taken and acknowledged on behalf of our Sovereign Lady the Queen touching the death of Ellen Catherine Grady at the Belle Vue Lunatic Asylum in the Parish of Saint Nicholas Church, the 13th day of Sept 1869 before Robert Gribble Esquire one of Her Majesty’s Coroners for the said county on view of the Body of the said Person laying dead in Belle Vue Lunatic Asylum, St. Albans in this County.Document dated: 20 September 18691. SAMUEL STOTT FISHBURN—Belle Vue, Medical SuperintendentI reside at the Belle Vue Lunatic Asylum. I am the Medic
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINEMonday, 27 April The month after Claire’s funeral, Alex focused on completing his dissertation, applying for his Masters and starting the prep for next term’s exams. Usually, he would spend the spring break at more leisurely pursuits, such as clubbing, drinking, playing and watching sport, with only the occasional session devoted to study. This year, with his finals looming and the desire for a first, serious attention was required. Or that was the theory. In truth, recompense for his previous abstinence took a disproportionate amount of his time and energy. The other afternoon for instance, after a particularly frenetic round of sexual gymnastics, he’d moaned at Marianne for leading him astray when he ought to be working. She had curtly informed him, “Why? Where’s the fun in that?”Not bothering to open his eyes, he’d murmured, “I’m too tired to argue, but life isn’t just about fun.”The bed moved as Marianne sat up. She pinched his arm. “Well, it should be. W
CHAPTER THIRTYTuesday, 19 October, 1869“Madhouse Murder trial starts today!”“Read All About It.”“Murderess Faces Judge and Jury.”The whey-faced paper sellers ran to and fro doing a brisk trade.Johnson Nottidge stepped down from his carriage into the bustling Hertford Street as the downpour started. The coachman hurried forward and held an umbrella over him. Using the end of his walking stick, Nottidge prodded a ragamuffin out of his path and made his way into the courthouse. Behind him others followed suit, seeking shelter and, even better, a few hours’ entertainment in the warm. He removed his doeskin gloves and looked around the main courtroom. The public gallery and reporters’ box were already fit to burst—standing room only—and now the jumble of rainproof trappings, discarded willy-nilly, added to the chaotic atmosphere. In the enclosed surroundings, the air was pungent with the mix of sodden clothes and unwashed bodies.He breathed in deeply and relished his anticipat
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONESaturday, 2 May The morning after his celebration with Marianne, Alex left her sleeping as he crept out of the apartment. Before they’d finally dozed off, Marianne had mentioned meeting him in the Union bar at about one. Nothing had been confirmed. He needed to take a pile of books back to the library first, then he’d contact her and decide how to play the ‘take a breather’ conversation.Jeff Reichenberg was in the hall. To judge from the dampness of his hair and sports gear, he’d just finished a strenuous workout. After a few words of greeting, Alex made his way down the stairs to the main foyer. The man had given him a strange look. It made him feel awkward as though he was somehow letting Claire down by being seen leaving Marianne’s. Last night had been as wild as ever. After that first shock and her reaction, it could have all gone horribly wrong, but she’d taken the champagne from him and clad in that outfit, led him willingly to the bedroom. She then did th