Chapter Twenty-Six #3
He had said, “I was already in too deep before I realized I had feelings for you.” His remembered words were like a stab to Selena’s heart. She had fallen in love with him, and he’d cared for her as well. But now, she’d lost his love—and him—forever.
The tears she had been holding back burst forth and rolled down her cheeks.
Although Dr. Dalton could not be held accountable for murder, since Mr. Clarke had died at Darkmoor Park in full view of many witnesses, still, after that letter in The Times, the London police might look into Dr. Dalton’s affairs.
Or—given his honest nature, which she had now come to understand and admire—the doctor may well turn himself in.
He would be held liable for the fifty-two-hundred pounds that was owed to creditors from the London General Hospital foundation.
With no way to pay it back, or to prove that Mr. Clarke had stolen it, Dr. Dalton would surely be sentenced to debtors’ prison.
Selena wept even harder at this probability.
If Dr. Dalton were unjustly imprisoned, unable to practice the profession he loved and locked away in filthy, overcrowded conditions that might kill him—it would be a calamity.
And it would be partly her fault. He had struggled so hard to explain himself, but she hadn’t listened.
If only she had believed him, he wouldn’t have dashed off and disappeared. If only they had found the money Mr. Clarke had hidden, the doctor would have been able to pay off the creditors, and walk away free and clear.
If only … If only. Filled with regret and shame, Selena sobbed, great floods of tears that made her shake. She had failed miserably at everything she had tried to do the past week.
As she wept, though, a new thought took hold of her. She hadn’t completely failed. She had, after all, gathered a great deal of information. So much information, perhaps, that she was having difficulty seeing the forest for the trees.
This didn’t have to be the end. Defeat, she decided, was an unacceptable outcome. She wouldn’t—couldn’t give up.
She may not be able to search for the money with Dr. Dalton, but she could continue the search for him.
And while she was at it, she would find out, once and for all, who was behind the murders at Darkmoor Park and stop the killer before they got to the money or harmed Colonel Blackwood or anyone else.
Selena found a handkerchief, dried her eyes, and blew her nose.
She wasn’t certain she could do this, but she had to try.
She started going over, in her mind, all that had transpired over the past week and the things she had learned.
So much had happened, however, it was impossible to keep it all straight in her head. She had to write it down.
She sat down at her desk, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and jotted a list of random thoughts.
OVERVIEW OF THE CASE TO DATE
· Mr. Clarke died. Accident? Or murder?
· Mr. Clarke had hidden ￡5000 under the dragon. Four rows.
· Mr. Clarke had visited the chapel on his last afternoon.
· Tunnel to catacombs begins in the chapel.
· Dragon on a sarcophagus?
· Mrs. Whitlock’s hot toddy: overdose. Accident? Or murder?
· Mrs. Goodwin died three months ago. Related?
· Threatening notes!
· Maisie Webster? Joe Webster?
· Trapped in the icehouse with Billy.
· Poisoned sandwich. Dead mouse.
· Gladys could have been a chambermaid at the Worthing Seaside Hotel.
· Sam is a footman, like Joe Webster. His brother died.
· Miss Thompson was a maid and governess. Needs money to open a flower shop. She hated Mrs. Whitlock.
· What is Mr. Davis hiding?
· Miss Goodwin resented her mother’s penny-pinching ways. Needs money to repair her hotel.
There were reasons to believe why any one of these suspects could have committed murder.
She needed to narrow the list down. Selena went over a raft of things in her mind.
Who might have had the easiest access to poison Colonel Blackwood’s sandwich?
Who was most likely to have written the threatening notes?
Who was most likely to seek revenge for Clive Webster’s death?
The letter Mr. Clarke had received from an investor.
The letter that had been published in the newspaper.
The people who seemed to be in want of cash.
Five thousand pounds was an enormous fortune.
Who might have killed to get their hands on it?
Selena read the list through again and when she’d reached the last item, she paused. Miss Goodwin’s poor opinion of her mother sent Selena’s mind spiraling down another path. Over the past week everyone, it seemed, had mentioned their mother at some point.
“I think everyone has secrets, don’t you? At least, that’s what my mother always used to say.” Who had said that? Selena couldn’t remember. Her head felt heavy again, as if someone had filled it with sand. She ordered herself to think. Think.
She vaguely recalled someone saying something about their mother that now seemed to be of great importance. What? The memory preyed on Selena’s mind, frustratingly just out of reach. What did someone’s mother have to do with any of this?
Suddenly, Selena let out a gasp as all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. She guessed who might have been behind everything—and why. It was so simple. Why hadn’t she seen it before? But how to prove it? That was the rub.
She stood up, determination racing through her veins. She had to work fast. She needed to stop the villain from killing again. And she had to find that money before they did, to exonerate Dr. Dalton.
She would go down to the catacombs here and now.
Her last foray had been unsuccessful, but she had clearer information now about where the dragon image might be.
It was inside a tomb, on the side of a sarcophagus near the end of the passage.
Although Selena couldn’t be certain the money was there, it seemed like her best bet at present.
She might be able to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak, with this mission. The villain had followed her once into the catacombs, to try to kill her. If she set this up right, they might do so again. It could be a way to entrap them into revealing themselves.
A quick glance in her mirror gave her pause.
Her hair was in disarray and streaked with mud.
Her face and legs were dirty, too. But there was no time to clean up.
She dashed to her wardrobe and put on a simple frock of sprigged, grey muslin.
As she pulled up clean stockings over her dirty legs, another thought struck her.
If only she could get word to Dr. Dalton, to let him know that she would not alert the authorities, and that she was determined to find that hidden cash. Selena decided to write him a note and ask Billy to deliver it to the train station.
Selena grabbed another piece of paper and scribbled a message, addressing it to the doctor by the name he’d been going by, so as not to arouse suspicion.
Dear Dr. Scott,
Please come back. I was wrong. I shouldn’t have doubted you.
I vow to find the money so you can be debt-free.
Forgive me,
Selena
No sooner had she finished writing, however, than she changed her mind. She couldn’t send the hall boy to the village again in all that mud. It was too much to ask. Selena crumpled the note and tossed it in her rubbish bin.
As Selena rose to her feet, a wave of dizziness engulfed her.
She blinked hard and shook it off. She didn’t relish the idea of going back to the catacombs—she shuddered at the thought of being underground again, surrounded by coffins—with a possible killer on her tail.
Especially when she wasn’t feeling her best.
She recalled what the doctor had told her—that it was dangerous for her to be up and about so soon after her concussion.
It might delay her recovery or have even more severe consequences.
But she couldn’t let that stop her. She had to do this.
She would finish what she and the doctor had started, unmask the killer, and find the proof to clear his name.
But this time, before she entered that crypt, she would bring protection. She grabbed several items from her desk drawer and shoved them in her skirt pockets, then found a long, satin ribbon and tied it around her waist.
She was ready. She knew she was taking a risk—in terms of her health, and perhaps even her life. But it was a risk she had to take.
*
En route to the chapel, Selena stopped in the cloak room to don her spare pair of boots and slip into a coat.
She then made her way to the drawing room, where she was pleased to see all the guests playing a card game and several members of the staff standing at attention or arranging refreshments nearby.
“I hope you are all amusing yourselves without me,” Selena announced to the group at large.
Miss Thompson’s eyes widened. “Miss Taylor! I thought you were taking a nap?”
“I’m not tired, after all. I’ll be in the chapel if anyone needs me.” Selena darted away. She had baited the trap. Would the villain follow?
Minutes later, she was in the chapel. As she had hoped, the lantern that Dr. Dalton had used that morning still stood upon the altar. Selena lit the candle and, just in case, stowed a box of matches in her pocket with the other items she’d brought.
The bookcase door opened easily and no longer creaked. Had Wells or one of the other servants oiled it? As she made her way down the stone steps and along the underground passageway, Selena glanced over her shoulder several times, but all was still and silent.
She reached the catacombs, where the moldy, earthy smells enveloped her as she passed through all the familiar rooms. When she reached the chamber with the tomb of the gentlewoman, the fallen statue still lay on the dirt floor, intact except for a broken nose.
Selena shuddered at the thought of how close she had come to death.
A sense of trepidation rushed through her. She was deep underground, with only one way out. If the villain did come this way again, did she really have the means with which to defend herself?
Yes, you do, she reassured herself. You will find Mr. Clarke’s hiding place, and the money to pay off Dr. Dalton’s debts—and if the culprit shows up, all the better. You will force a confession and nab them, too.
Selena steeled herself and moved on. Just then, a soft sound caught her attention—as if of footsteps trodding against the packed dirt floor.
Sweat broke out on her chest and brow. Had the villain pursued her?
Selena raised her lantern and peered behind her, all her senses on alert.
But no one was there. The only sound she perceived was the drum of her own heart in her ears. Perhaps she had imagined the footfalls?
She moved on. Farther along the passage, she came upon a bronze door that had turned green with age and was decorated with a coat of arms. Could there be a dragon motif on a coffin within?
Selena entered the crypt. It held two stone sarcophaguses, topped by the carved figures of a nobleman and his wife.
The sides of the sarcophaguses held memorial plaques in tribute to the deceased, but no sign of a dragon.
Before leaving the tomb, Selena paused cautiously in the doorway. She saw no sign of anyone in the room beyond, and there were no coffins to hide behind. It seemed that nobody had followed her down here, after all. So be it. Perhaps it was for the best.
After passing through the next arched division, she found herself in a passageway rather than a room.
Her head spun suddenly, and she pressed a hand against the wall for support.
For some reason, this wall was lumpier than the others.
Selena raised the lantern and recoiled in horror.
Dozens and dozens of ancient skulls had been impressed into the walls on both sides—four long rows of them, all dark with age, their empty eye sockets and creepy rows of teeth seeming to taunt and sneer at her.
A tremor traveled down Selena’s spine. She fought to restore her sense of balance and started forward—but then paused as Mr. Clarke’s last words dashed into her mind. When he’d said, “Four rows,” she’d had no idea what he’d meant. Later, she had wondered if he’d actually said, “For Rose.”
But what if Mr. Clarke had been referring to the four rows of skulls impressed into this very wall? Did it mean she was close to the spot where he’d hidden that money?
Selena’s breath came faster now. The dizziness dissipated as she proceeded down the passage of skulls and entered the adjoining chamber. Another ancient bronze door that had faded to a greenish-brown patina was embossed with an intricate bas-relief design of another coat of arms.
Selena turned the blackened brass doorknob. It opened with only the slightest creak. Inside the cozy burial chamber, surrounded by moldy stone walls, a single stone sarcophagus stood about four inches off the floor, resting on stone pedestals.
Her heart began to pound. Mrs. Hillman had said the sarcophagus she remembered had been raised off the ground.
Selena glanced at the carved lid. It featured a knight in armor in the usual position, lying on his back as if asleep, his hands pressed together in prayer.
The sides of the sarcophagus had been decorated with a similar sculptural technique to that employed on the door.
Selena crouched down and studied the engraving on one side of the stone casket.
Pins and needles raced through her, and she drew a sharp breath.
There it was, as plain as day. A battle scene of St. George fighting the dragon.
Selena’s heart hammered even faster now. What lay under it?
She got down on her hands and knees and placed her lantern on the floor.
Tilting her head sideways, Selena rested her cheek upon the cold paving stones and peered beneath the ancient coffin.
The angle was difficult, but she thought she glimpsed an object lying beneath it.
She slid one hand under the sarcophagus as far as it would go …
and her fingers touched something. She picked and tugged at the article until she was able to grab hold of it and slide it out from under the sarcophagus.
Selena could hardly breathe. In her hands was a wallet-sized pouch made of thin, brown leather. She got to her feet, opened the purse, and gasped in excitement.
Inside the purse was a thick bundle of fifty-pound notes. There could well be five thousand pounds here. She had done it. She had found the money!
Just then a distinctive, metallic click broke the silence.
Selena looked up to see a man standing just inside the open doorway of the tomb. He held a revolver in his hand. And it was pointing directly at Selena’s heart.