Watchers of the Dead by Simon Beaufort

Author:Simon Beaufort [Simon Beaufort]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2019-02-10T16:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

Despite being bone weary after his day of traipsing around the city in search of answers, Lonsdale did not sleep well that night. It had been nearly midnight by the time he had taken leave of the Galtons, seen Hulda safely home, and returned to Cleveland Square. Then he had sat in the drawing room for an hour, sipping a brandy and thinking about what Galton had said.

Dickerson and Gurney – and perhaps the other victims, too – had been Watchers, and the grass left on the bodies was known as the Watchers of the Dead. Did that mean a fellow Watcher was dispatching them? Or someone who disapproved of whatever the society did? And what about the Watchers’ plans for Christmas Eve – the sacrifices that would ‘show what the Watchers were capable of’? Was the killer aiming to prevent it; in which case, was he actually dispatching people who aimed to commit some dreadful atrocity?

Lonsdale went to bed, only to toss and turn for an age, plagued by questions and worries. He fell into a deep drowse about an hour before Sybil woke him by raking out the fire in the room below. He groaned, wondering how she could contrive to make such an ungodly racket armed only with a poker and a brush. He sat up, blinking blearily, and began to plan his day.

It was Tuesday, which meant that in five days it would be Christmas Eve, when the Watchers’ ‘unspeakable’ plan would swing into action. He had to prevent it, knowing he would never forgive himself if lives were lost. Moreover, any number of people had expectations of him: Morley had ordered him to solve the murders by then; Dean Haldane and Lady Bowyer were desperate for answers about their lost loved ones, and Stead wanted the Kumu found and taken to a place of safety. Lonsdale had no idea how to do any of it.

He rubbed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to concentrate. Most immediately pressing were the murders, especially as the Kumu seemed to be doing a perfectly good job of keeping themselves hidden. He had spoken to the families of Bowyer, Haldane and Gurney, and had quizzed Roth about Dickerson. Now he needed to speak to Tait’s daughter, still at the Archbishop’s Palace, to see if she had answers the others had failed to provide.

He decided to catch the first available train to Surrey that morning. When he came home, he would visit the Garraway Club again, to ask about the painting of the angel, and if he was denied access, he would break in and see what he could learn by stealth.

Feeling a little more optimistic with a plan in place, he dressed quickly and hurried downstairs, where he asked the cook for eggs – it was going to be a long day, and he was not sure when, or if, there would be another opportunity to eat. The morning papers were stacked on the sideboard, and he scowled when he saw The Echo among them.

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