Murder (11 page)

As we waited with baited breath, I could not help but think of the fantastical
Upir
, thrown back into the river after Harrington’s death. It did not exist.
It did not
– and yet I felt a shiver of dread that left me trembling almost as much as Juliana was.

‘He has him!’ Hebbert shouted up from below. ‘
He has him
.’

Juliana broke free of my arms and ran down to the bank, Andrews right behind her. Kane was swimming towards Hebbert, dragging the boy on his back behind him. He staggered onto the filthy mud and lay the boy down and Hebbert and Andrews were on their knees instantly, pumping at his chest and blowing into his small mouth.

I did not move. I knew I should. I was a medical doctor – I had served on battlefields. It should have been me there in Andrews’ place, fighting alongside Hebbert to get the stinking water from the boy’s lungs, but I could not bring myself to go to the river’s edge.

Even from where I stood I could see that James was deathly pale. Strands of green slime coloured his blond hair and I could not help but wonder how far he had sunk into those murky depths. The idea of placing my mouth over his revolted me. The river had been
inside
him. What else had reached for him as he sank? I could not help myself: I thought of an ancient creature with red eyes and sharp teeth waiting on the riverbed for a new host.

James finally retched and coughed and a blast of water ejected itself from his lungs. As he opened his eyes he looked
dazed, struggling to remember where and with whom he was. His mother fell to her knees and smothered him with hugs and kisses, her tears washing away the stench.

Beside me, the Barkers gasped with relief and clutched at each other. I alone remained unmoved.

Kane, drenched and filthy, scooped the boy up and brought him up the stairs as Andrews pulled the boat to the bank and retrieved the American’s coat. It was only now, as the group hurried back inside the house, that I was able to shake off my stupor and join them, trying to ignore my overwhelming disgust and fear.

*

The Barkers departed shortly after that, having ascertained little James was alive and would be well. They were not part of the family like the rest of us, Kane included these days, and they let us get on with looking after James. The housekeeper started boiling water for a hot bath as Juliana and Hebbert stripped the shivering child of his sodden clothes and within an hour he was tucked up in bed and trying to eat the beef broth his mother was forcefully feeding him. I loitered in the doorway and watched for a moment before heading downstairs. Was it my imagination, or had red blotches begun to appear on his pale cheeks? Or was it simply my tiredness playing tricks on me? I had never liked the boy, but I could not help that, for I knew what his father had become, and that his birth had been so difficult as to be almost unnatural. It had always been hard for me to put those things to one side in my mind.

‘He will be just fine,’ Hebbert said, handing Kane a brandy. The American was wrapped in a blanket himself and sitting by a hastily lit fire. ‘Children are hardy. His mother thinks
he is fragile, but I’ve seen children with far more serious complaints than his occasional coughs and colds. His father had a weak chest and I don’t doubt he’s inherited it, but more fresh air will no doubt sort that out.’

I poured myself a brandy and saw my hand was shaking slightly. What else had the boy inherited from his father? Could it be Fate that had forced him into the water? Had something been waiting for him under there? My jaw tightened and I cursed my dreams and my memories.
There were no monsters
. I would not believe it.

‘What happened to you?’ Andrews said quietly. ‘You didn’t so much as move an inch.’

‘I’m afraid I do not know,’ I said. ‘My reactions are not what they were when I was a young man – perhaps it was shock?’

My friend did not look convinced, and I am certain I saw more than a little disappointment in his eyes. What could I say? That I was terrified of the river on some deep subconscious level, of what might be in it? That the thought of pressing my mouth to the boy’s and
tasting
the river filled me with dread? For even if there was no
Upir
, the memory of my own madness had been thrown into that river and I was becoming more and more fearful of its resurrection. Everywhere I turned, pieces of the past were gathering around me.

‘I feel some shame at my inaction, Walter. I truly do, but James will be fine.’

‘Thankfully.’

‘He should not have been out on the water anyway,’ I said, suddenly feeling the need to defend myself. ‘Juliana would not have allowed it.’ I spoke louder than I had intended and Kane looked up, guilt filling his dark eyes.

‘He wanted to go fishing. I thought it would be harmless.’

‘Come, come, Thomas,’ Hebbert interjected, ‘we swam in worse when we were boys, surely? I know I certainly did. And the boat was securely fastened and close to the bank. Let’s not make too big a fuss of all this, eh? Edward’s company has been good for the boy; none of us can doubt that.’

Outside the sunshine was fading and heavy grey storm clouds had gathered, hanging low and pressing against the glass as if to watch us all growling at each other.

‘You’re very calm about what could have been a terrible accident,’ I said. ‘Your grandson could have died. Perhaps you are more
laissez faire
about death than I.’ The words came out in drops of acid.

‘Thomas!’ Andrews exclaimed, as Hebbert’s eyes widened. ‘What a thing to say! At least he ran to help.’

‘Yes – where were you?’ Hebbert bit back. ‘It’s obvious you care little for the boy, but to stand at a distance and watch? That is colder than I imagined even you were capable of.’

And so the gloves were off. We glared at each other, Charles Hebbert and I. In the history of our friendship we had never had a single angry exchange – but perhaps I had never really known the man at all. He was, after all, a man who had had terrible dreams of blood as Jack murdered on our streets, and a man whose whereabouts could not be accounted for during those times.

Or perhaps it was I who was sinking back into madness after my paranoid delusions of years before.

Either way, I felt the heat rise in my stomach. ‘Whatever you believe of my feelings towards the boy, I would not have taken the child out onto the river, not without his mother’s permission. And neither will I excuse or laugh off such an
action. James is Juliana’s son and it is her place and her place alone to decide these things.’

My suspicion of Hebbert and my jealousy of Kane were rolling into one mass of emotion, and I was too tired to watch my tongue. But still I asked myself,
What is happening to us?
Ever since Kane’s arrival my world had started changing again, and pleasant as he might be, I was beginning to hate him for that. I wanted to get home to my laudanum and brandy and the quiet of my study and forget for a while that the normality I had worked so hard to rebuild was crumbling.

‘He’s right,’ Kane said quietly. ‘He’s absolutely right. I didn’t think – but James was so keen, and I took such care with the boat … I thought maybe if I presented it as a done deal she’d realise he would be safe.’

‘He’s not your child,’ I reiterated, all the while squirming inside at the sanctimonious tenor of my voice. ‘His father is dead.’ The image rose up unbidden of Harrington’s face as I slashed at him with the broken glass. ‘Whatever your feelings for Juliana, do not confuse them with having rights that are solely hers.’

‘Thank you, Thomas.’

I turned to find Juliana standing in the doorway. Her back was stiff and her face was drawn and pale.

‘Juliana.’ Kane got to his feet. ‘I’m so sorry—’

‘Thomas is right,’ she said. Her voice was as cold as her eyes. ‘It was not your place to put my son in danger.’

‘My dear,’ Hebbert started, ‘you—’

‘“I” nothing, Papa.’ She turned to Kane and said quietly, ‘It is not that you took him out on the boat, Edward. I know that I have perhaps allowed too many of my own fears to colour how I raise my son. Had you asked, I might well have said yes.’ She
drew herself up tall, and I think I had never loved her more than I did in that moment. ‘But you did not ask. And now I would ask that you leave.’ Only then did she take her eyes from the somewhat cowed Edward Kane and glance at the rest of us. ‘All of you. Thomas, if you would call tomorrow to check on James, I would be most grateful.’

‘Of course,’ I said, some of the darkness lifting. I might not have helped bring the boy out of the water but suddenly I was back in favour – and more importantly, Edward Kane was apparently out, at least for now. I knew Juliana to have a generous and forgiving nature, and I was sure that when James was fully recovered, she would calm towards him, but for now, he had broken her trust.

Outside, I walked with Andrews towards the train station. I tried to make idle conversation with him, but he was singularly unresponsive to most of what I said, emitting only one-word answers here and there and refusing to be drawn into more. A hansom cab appeared at the end of the street and he flagged it down.

‘Shall we travel together?’ I asked.

‘I think I had rather go alone,’ he said. He turned to me and his sharp eyes narrowed. ‘I think perhaps you need some rest, Thomas. How you spoke to Charles was both rude and unwarranted.’

I opened my mouth to protest, but he talked over me.

‘You implied that he did not care if young James died – how could you say that?’

‘That was not what I meant!’ Walter Andrews was my friend and a clever man. Whilst it might be true that my words had been a little too aggressive, surely he would wonder what my reasoning was, rather than just thinking me rude? ‘Perhaps
none of us know Charles Hebbert as well as we think,’ I snapped.

‘What on earth do you mean by that? Hebbert is a good man – a good doctor,’ Andrews protested.

‘He lies,’ I said, turning on my heel, my teeth gritted. ‘The man lies.’

I strode away as the first rumble of thunder overhead echoed my fury.

‘What do you mean by that?’ he called after me. ‘Thomas?’

‘Forget I said it.’ I barely broke my pace but I turned so I could face him even as my feet carried me backwards. ‘And I am truly sorry if I offended you, my friend. You are right: I am very tired.’

*

I was still shaking by the time I got home, and as I poured myself a brandy the storm rattled the house as if my inner conflict was exploding outwards. What was happening to me? Had the paranoia that had gripped me years before left a seed in my guts that was now growing like unkempt summer weeds? Did it really take so little to reignite my fears? It is true that I have always found it hard to warm to little James, but my body’s refusal to run and help him had nothing to do with any possible inherited wickedness and everything to do with what the priest believed he’d thrown into the river on that bleak night, the last time I saw him. We had
all
believed at the time that he had consigned the
Upir
to the Thames.

I shuddered, catching my own reflection in the glass as lightning seared across the sky and seeing a fearful old man. Where was the notable surgeon Dr Thomas Bond? How had he become this person, a man who distrusted a long-time friend
simply because he had lied about where he was on a few occasions? I thought of how I had snapped, and how Andrews had looked at me when we left Juliana’s house.

This would not do. I could not become obsessional again.

Despite the storm outside making the house feel damp and chill, I did not light a fire. My face burned as my head raced and I felt anxiety trying to grip me. I would not allow it. I would not be dragged down after all this time. It had to stop, and it had to stop
now
.

At my desk, I pulled out my notepaper and began to write to Andrews. I was not sure what I intended to say, only that I needed to make reparation for my actions and words of this afternoon. But once the words started, they flowed. I told him I had suffered a fear of deep water since a boating accident in my own childhood, and that had frozen me. I told him my own embarrassment had made me snap at Hebbert, and that I was feeling resentful as he was clearly favouring Kane as a suitor for Juliana’s hand over me. I told him a fall I had taken a month or two before at the hunt had left me with back pain (of everything I wrote in the letter this was the only completely truthful part), and that was making me irritable. Finally, I asked his forgiveness. I sealed the letter and addressed it before starting immediately on another for Hebbert, in which I apologised for my unforgivable rudeness, blaming my behaviour on my jealousy of Kane.

Normally I would feel ashamed at being so open with my emotions, but my desire to restore the balance of my friendships – and myself – overwhelmed any such considerations. By the time I had finished and both envelopes were ready to be sent the next day, the brandy was gone and I was calmer.

If I said that such simple actions had removed all my dark woes, that would be a lie, but I was more at peace, and I was determined not to return to the bleakness of soul that so nearly destroyed me before.

I lay in bed and listened to the rain beating at the house and tried to think of nothing else but the rhythm of my heart and the ticking of the clock, filling my head with sounds rather than thoughts of dead women and old legends and drug-induced madness that never quite let go.

*

I slept fitfully, waking several times in a sweat with my sheets tangled around me, but when morning finally came, although I was tired I did not remember my dreams and for that I was grateful. I sent my letters and went straight to Juliana’s to see how James was.

I was happy to find that although Juliana was sure he had a slight fever and had confined her son to bed, James appeared to be well and happy, unscathed emotionally by his fall into the river. I agreed that he was perhaps a little hot, and although I was drawn to them, I did not focus on the faint red blotches high on his cheeks and on his neck. They were nothing, I told myself, simply the effects of a mild sickness brought on by falling into the water. But still I stayed with him throughout the day, playing cards and reading to him while Juliana watched us both – I like to think with a considerable amount of affection.