The Dark Between (35 page)

“Kate! Are you hurt?”

She coughed into the grass, too choked to speak. Asher knelt beside her, waiting until her spasms eased before he turned her body over and laid his fingers on her throat.

“Your pulse is racing,” he said, “but I think you may live. Is anything broken?”

She wiggled her extremities. “Only my spirit?”

Asher smoothed her hair from her eyes. Then he shifted his
body to lie next to her, his head propped on an elbow. After searching her face for a moment, he laughed softly.

Kate squirmed. “What? Is there mud on my face?”

“No, no. It’s just …” Asher pulled a piece of grass from her hair. “I’ve never known anyone like you, Kate.”

His eyes were so wide and wondering that Kate blushed and looked away.

Asher flopped onto his back. “I’m ruined for Trinity now.”

“Dr. Marshall said he’d see you in the fall, didn’t he?” she gasped, still trying to catch her breath. “I think our little caper made quite an impression.”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “No doubt he found me quite dull before. But now he thinks I’m a rake, and that you’re the sort of girl who breaks into college rooms to ruin herself.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“Don’t provoke me, Kate. Not now.”

“I’m not trying to provoke you,” she said gently. “We never could have predicted he’d come from London like that, and yet you managed to get us out of there quite nicely.”

“At the cost of ten years from my life. Has my hair turned grey?”

She could only giggle.

They lay quietly a few more moments, the silence deepening. With it came a sobering thought. “We still don’t know who killed Billy and Tec.”

Asher sat up. “We’re not done yet,” he said briskly. “We’ve eliminated one possibility. Tomorrow we’ll take another look at the suspects.”

Once they’d stood and brushed the grass from their clothes, they walked along Queen’s Road toward Summerfield, each of them too preoccupied with yawning to speak. Kate didn’t mind the silence, for it was a companionable one.
They may have been misguided in their belief about Marshall’s evildoings, and she’d led Asher into a ridiculous scheme that had nearly cost him his place at Trinity. But they’d stolen their way into one of the finest colleges in Cambridge, and once caught, had talked their way out of trouble. She couldn’t help thinking Billy and Tec would have been proud of their detective work.

And there was that look in Asher’s eyes as they’d lain in the grass. Amusement had flickered there, but she’d also seen approval. Fondness, even?

Was she having sentimental feelings for
Asher
? The boy hopelessly besotted with Elsie? She wrinkled her nose. Any hankerings in that direction needed to be quashed immediately. After all, what had her tender feelings for Tec brought her? Nothing more than confusion and pain. She should have learned by now that the entire business of love was outright foolishness and a waste of time.

And yet …

The warm glow continued until they crossed the Silver Street Bridge and a sharp odor tickled her nostrils.

“Asher, do you smell smoke?”

They paused on Summerfield Walk.

“I do.”

Kate shivered as a clanging sounded in the distance. “The fire brigade?”

“Come on,” said Asher, quickening his pace.

When they neared the gate, Kate saw the flames flickering in the distance through the ironwork. Her heart leapt as Asher broke into a run. She followed him to the unlocked gate, scrambling through after him. He paused in front of Summerfield Hall, gasping for breath.

“It’s the old lab,” Kate said.

He turned to her, his expression dire. “Go to the Gatehouse and make sure Elsie is safe.”

“No,” she said, her back stiffening. “I’m coming with you.”

He gripped her shoulders. “Then stay behind me, and for God’s sake be careful.”

They tore across the lawn toward the lab. Jagged tongues of fire flicked through the windows, and smoke clouded the building, choking the air. When they drew near enough to feel the heat, Asher jerked her back. “Don’t go any closer. There’s glass everywhere. The windows must have blown out.”

“How could that happen?” she asked, her throat thickened by the smoke.

“An explosion. There’s no other explanation.” He covered his mouth with his cap. “Chemicals were stored there, weren’t they? We should go back to the house, Kate—this smoke is choking me.”

Kate stepped back, raising a hand to shield her face from the heat of the flames. The light from the sitting room shone through the window of the Gatehouse. Would Elsie have come out to see what happened, or would she have had the sense to stay safely inside? Perhaps she had been the one to telephone the fire brigade.

As she glanced back at Asher, something at the perimeter of her gaze caught her attention. Turning, she saw a pale shape in the grass. She stepped closer, panic flooding through her as she saw the shape for what it was—a body. A prone form in a long dress, arms and legs splayed.

And golden hair sticking to a face covered in blood.

Chapter 39

A
sher’s body ached with weariness as he sat in Oliver Thompson’s study. Mr. Thompson leaned against his desk, looking far worse than Asher felt. He couldn’t help staring at the old man’s hands as he spoke, for they trembled so pathetically.

“I come home,” said Thompson, “to find one of the college buildings burned—its contents utterly destroyed—and now I’ve just heard Millie’s confession that you and Miss Poole were away from Summerfield when she went to bed.”

Asher’s heart jerked in his chest.

“I can’t fathom why you would leave the Gatehouse in the dark of night,” Thompson continued. “What could possibly have prompted such a foolish action?”

“Well … Miss Poole craved some fresh air, and it wasn’t terribly late—”

“Do
not
pull the wool over my eyes, Mr. Beale. The truth, if you please!”

“Sir, are you certain you don’t wish to sit?”

Mr. Thompson submitted to a coughing fit, glaring at Asher all the while. Once recovered, he leaned against his desk
almost defiantly. “I’m fine. Now, were you and Kate in the old lab when the fire broke out? Did you mess about with the equipment?”

“No sir, we were nowhere near the lab when the fire started,” Asher said, relieved to speak truthfully.

“Where were you, then?”

Asher could think of nothing to say, and the silence weighed heavily upon the room. He was so damnably tired. Then the wisp of an idea tickled his brain—a lie, of course, but one that would serve some good. Strange how it had taken exhaustion and utter confusion for matters to finally fall into place.

“Well, boy?”

“It was Kate, sir. She tried to run away from Summerfield.”

Thompson coughed again. “What?”

“She is terrified,” Asher continued, emboldened now that he could speak the truth. “Earlier this week she encountered Robert Eliot in town—it was the day she and Elsie went rowing with Simon Wakeham. Mr. Eliot recognized her, and I’m afraid he tried to drag her to the police station.”

“The brute! How could he blame her for his own foolishness?”

“It was difficult for Kate to speak of this, but I gather he was rather rough with her. He’d pulled her into an alley to get a better look at her. She was frightened and desperate, so she … well, sir, she says she stabbed him in the thigh with a pocket-knife.”

Mr. Thompson’s jaw dropped. “She actually stabbed him?”

“It was by no means a mortal wound, sir. But she’s terrified of the police and has been plotting how to run away ever since. Last night I saw her sneaking out. I felt it my duty to follow. When I caught up to her she confessed the whole story.”

“Heavens,” breathed Thompson. “Of course that’s why she
was so keen to see her father’s widow. She thought the woman would shelter her.”

“She was afraid of disappointing you, and she couldn’t imagine you’d wish to house her any longer. Mostly, however, she was afraid of being jailed for attacking a gentleman.”

Mr. Thompson’s face crumpled. “Why didn’t the girl just come to me? I could have settled matters for her.”

“Are you at all acquainted with Kate Poole?” Asher suppressed a smile. “You know how independent she is. It was all I could do to convince her to come back to the Gatehouse.”

Thompson nodded sadly. “I’ll deal with Eliot. Kate need have no fear of him. But what about the old lab?” he asked. “You returned to Summerfield to find it on fire?”

“Yes sir.” Asher relaxed a fraction. Everything after their return was easy enough to relate, since he could tell the truth. “As soon as we turned onto Summerfield Walk, we smelled the smoke and heard the fire brigade bell.”

“Did you see anyone run from the building? Someone who might have been responsible?”

“No sir.”

“A body was found in the lab, burned very badly. They haven’t identified him yet, and I’m not certain they ever will.” Mr. Thompson slumped forward, rubbing his temples. “I’d lost my own key to the lab ages ago, but I secured the gardener’s and made sure the door was kept locked. I even hid the key. Now it’s gone—out of my own study.” His hands dropped as he looked at Asher. “I can’t imagine who would wish to destroy the building. Surely they weren’t aware someone was inside?”

Asher sank back in his chair. “It’s a mystery, sir.”

He wondered what it all meant. Elsie unconscious outside the lab, another person trapped inside and burned beyond recognition. It couldn’t have been Dr. Marshall’s doing—he would
have been on his way home from the train station when the explosion happened. And he seemed to have nothing to do with the old lab anyway.

Mr. Thompson yawned. “We are each lost in our thoughts, and I know you must be exhausted,” he said. “Get some rest, and we’ll discuss this further tomorrow.”

Asher stood, eager to be away so he could share what he’d learned with Kate. But Thompson seemed so shriveled and forlorn. “Can I get you anything?” Asher asked awkwardly. “A cup of tea? I really think you should sit down.”

The man sighed and hobbled over to the chair. Asher took his arm, hoping to bear some of the weight as Mr. Thompson eased down. But there was hardly any substance to the man—his bones seemed as light and frail as a bird’s. Thompson crumpled into the seat and pushed his beard into his mouth, his expression distracted as he chewed.

Asher lingered, reluctant to leave him.

After a moment Thompson gazed up at him. Smiling feebly, he pulled the beard free, smoothing it against his chest. “Go on now, my boy. I’ll be fine.”

Still uncertain, Asher made his way up the stairs, checking the corridor on the next floor before walking to Kate’s bedchamber. The room was empty, so he returned to the staircase, passing Elsie’s door along the way. He heard the murmurs of a deep voice. The police? He had hoped to speak with her first.

Disappointed, he returned to his own room to find Kate sitting on his chair. The packet of his father’s telegrams lay in her lap.

“Kate?”

She bit her lip. “They were sitting on your desk for anyone to see. For all you know, he’s trying to make amends. Why haven’t you opened them?”

“Do we have to talk about this now?” Asher rubbed his burning eyes. He knew Kate was just as weary as he was—certainly weary enough to be scattered and vulnerable—but he couldn’t bring himself to engage on
that
issue. “Seems there are more important matters to concern us.”

She sighed and placed the packet on his desk. “What did you tell Mr. Thompson?”

“Don’t be angry. I told him you’d tried to run away, that I followed you, and that you confessed your troubles with Eliot to me. He’s quite upset on your account.”

“Really?” Her lower lip trembled. “I hadn’t expected that.”

“He says he’ll deal with Eliot, so put that from your mind. Have you seen Elsie?”

“The doctor’s been with her.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “I heard voices and feared it might be the police in her room.” He paused, his thoughts racing. “There’s something else, Kate.”

Her body tensed. “What?” she whispered.

“The police found a dead body in the lab—burned so badly they haven’t been able to identify it.”

Kate stared at him. “Who could it be?”

“I’m hoping Elsie can tell us.”

“Why would you be so foolish as to go to the old lab?” The question exploded from Aunt Helena’s grimly clenched lips. “It was late, and you were alone. What were you thinking?”

If the bed had swallowed her up in that moment, Elsie would have welcomed it. Aunt Helena’s face was white with anger. Or perhaps it was fear. Either way, she seemed determined to get answers, and now that the doctor had departed, Elsie could no longer avoid this confrontation. But
neither could she tell the truth, not before speaking with Asher and Kate, and Aunt Helena seemed disinclined to wait. Elsie took a breath and met her aunt’s gaze. “I saw someone through my bedroom window. I thought it was Asher, and I was curious.”

“Did you go inside the lab? Did you see who was there?”

“The last thing I remember is standing outside and looking through the window.” The lies tumbled too easily from her lips. “I went to the door and tried to turn the handle, but it was locked. The rest I don’t remember. It’s this bump on my head—I think it’s blotted out my memory.”