Chapter Forty-Two
Our Remains
“I don’t want to believe it… I feel… completely destroyed, utterly crushed.”
Victor was sitting in Preshea’s very small, but very cozy living room, his hands supporting his head. He was tired, devastated, angry, disappointed and, mainly, hurt. He had never known he could feel so betrayed.
He had just finished telling everything about Ethel to Preshea. He had come to her house, feeling too lost, too repulsed and furious at his sister to stay in the same building as her. He had slept in Preshea’s couch, though he never actually rested. He showed up too disturbed and devastated to talk the night before and Preshea was quick to understand – she simply handed him a pillow and a few blankets.
Victor couldn’t cry though. He guessed he was too exhausted for even that. He had way too much on his mind already, what with Amos still alive, Julius’s unfair death, the mysterious disappearance of Patrick Peterson, the mysterious murder of Lewis Jackson, Nicholas Skeffington going insane, Selina missing for most of the day, Jonathan Hazenberg breathing down his neck, Garret’s last words playing on his mind without a break… But Ethel’s confession… That was too heavy to bear.
“I understand why…” Preshea replied, sitting on the table in front of the couch and holding a mug with hot coffee. She was trembling, shocked at Victor’s revelation. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” Victor lifted his head from his hands and looked at his long-time friend, completely defeated. “I’m afraid I might never be able to look at her again.”
“Victor… she’s your sister,” Preshea replied with a merciful smile, as if that fact was the only answer he needed.
“And she killed my mother.”
His cold reply made Preshea retreat her eyes from his for a few seconds.
“I know, but… You have to forgive her. You love her, you need her.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that,” he answered with painful honesty. “I wish I could, but I don’t think I can.”
“It’s still a fresh wound. It will heal.”
“I hope so, yet I can’t help but doubt it, much to my despair. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a tendency to hold very strong and old grudges.” He smiled bitterly.
“Yes, but… this is Ethel we’re talking about.”
“I know, that’s why I’m so broken. If she was anyone else, she would be dead by now.”
Preshea shivered at what he said, but otherwise chose to ignore it. “Does Selina know?”
“I can’t tell her. It will ruin her. She will know, eventually, but not right now.”
He stood up and passed by Preshea’s seat to stare at her window, trying to make some sense out of everything that was running through his exhausted mind and broken heart. His eyes widened at the sight he had once he got there though. What he witnessed momentarily erased all the other thoughts from his mind – including even Ethel’s supreme act of treason.
Right beneath Preshea’s window, a most unusual pair was having a very serious and apparently deep and enthralling conversation. Lady Lenora and Detective Jonathan Hazenberg talking was definitely an odd sight and it certainly felt out of place. Victor couldn’t remember ever hearing any of them even mentioning the other. In fact, Detective Hazenberg had been in the Skeffington’s mansion more than once while he was there, and though he always talked to or about Sir Amos, Jack, Nicholas and Julius, never once did he talk to or about Lenora.
He squinted his eyes, but it was impossible to read their lips to properly understand what they were talking about. They seemed mighty familiar with each other too, which only added to the strangeness.
“Interesting…” he mumbled.
“What?” Preshea asked, before taking another sip of her coffee.
“I can’t help but feel too beaten up to figure out something that I’m sure would otherwise be very clear to me,” he answered, without taking his eyes off of the talking pair.
“You need to rest.”
“I need to think.”
***
She was sitting on the ground, too stunned and depressed to even move. Tears kept falling down her face, her eyes blankly stared ahead though nothing was there to see.
Had Ethel von Mallesch been finally defeated?
Victor was eternally mad and disgusted at her. He hated her and with good reason. She had lost her brother. Selina was eternally disappointed and disgusted at her also. She hated her and thought she was a monster. She had lost her sister. Lewis was dead, forever gone, as were her parents and Charlie. She was alone. She had destroyed everyone she loved and everything that surrounded her.
Maybe Ethel von Mallesch really was finally defeated.
She couldn’t stop seeing all her life running past her: her mother begging for death and her cold and empty body lying on her bed; her adoptive father cruelly beating her and her adoptive mother ignoring it and their shattered bodies on the ground, soaking up their own blood; Charlie falling lifeless on the ground after drinking his glass of wine; Victor and Selina looking at her with hatred and calling her a monster; Preshea’s voice talking about redemption.
Maybe Ethel von Mallesch should be defeated.
When she regained some sense of self and consciousness, she felt a small pair of arms embracing her neck.
“We won’t leave you, witch lady. We will protect you,” Joshua whispered. “We will stay with you forever.”
Alice sat next to her and rested her head on Ethel’s shoulder.
Ethel could barely feel them. She didn’t even move or react.
But she could hear the soft melody of a lullaby sang by a childish voice, almost in the distance.
***
The afternoon sun was brighter than ever, reflecting on the windows and giving some much needed color and warmth to the Skeffington’s mansion . Victor walked the corridors, knowing where to go if he wanted to find who he was searching for.
He looked inside the drawing room and saw her sitting there, gazing at the landscape, sitting in her usual chair. He walked a few steps back and made sure he made as much noise as he could, walking by the door and looking inside as if for the first time. As he expected, she was now looking at the entrance after hearing his steps approaching. He faked a surprised smile and pretended to stop abruptly on his tracks.
“Good afternoon, Lady Lenora.”
Immediately, he saw her smile with genuine pleasure at the sight of him. “Oh, Sir Gabriel, how nice to see you.”
Victor walked inside, bowed his head slightly and gently kissed her hand. He could see her blush. “Delighted to see you, my Lady. You look stunning as always.”
Lenora giggled, an act that seemed completely out of character. “You’re too polite.”
Victor straightened up and took the liberty of sitting on the couch in front of her. “Not polite, my Lady, merely honest.”
She got up with more energy and agility than he would expect from a lady of her age and walked towards the drinks cabinet. “Do you wish for a drink, Sir Gabriel?”
“Only if you lend me you charming company,” he replied with a seductive smile.
Lenora smiled and turned away from him quickly. “Certainly, if you insist.”
“That I do.”
Lady Lenora soon handed him a glass of whisky and sat back on her chair, holding one of her own.
“How is Sir Amos doing?” he asked, genuinely interested in her answer.
She sighed with honest concern drawn in her features. “Not better, I’m afraid. I fear for him. The doctors have no idea what’s keeping him so ill.”
“I am sorry to hear that, my Lady,” he lied. He was very much happy and proud on the inside.
“Thank you.” She took a big gulp from her drink. “How are you handling the business?”
“Rather well, I would risk saying. I have to admit, I was counting on Nicholas’ expertize to make it easier on me, but I have not seen him around or much too receptive to the idea of aiding me.”
She took a deep breath and her worried expression deepened. “Nicholas is hurting. He is going through a lot. He has always been very close to his father, you know? I’m worried about him, he doesn’t seem to be doing well…” She paused for a minute, taking the time to glance at her window again. “I miss the violin,” she finally whispered. When she returned her eyes to him, she once again resembled the strong and hard woman she had always seemed to him. “Have you heard anything from Sir Julius yet?”
“No.”
“I’m also growing worried for him,” she continued. “This is not normal behavior on his part… to simply vanish without a word.” She sighed again, looking tired. “Amos keeps asking for him…”
“Lady Lenora,” Victor was tired of waiting for a proper opening and he also disliked the direction the conversation was taking, so he decided to be blunt about it. “Do you, by any chance, know Detective Hazenberg?”
She looked at him with intrigue and suspicion for a fraction of a moment, before her expression returned to a casual one. “Oh yes, for many years.” Victor tried to hide his sudden interest at these words and Lenora proceeded, “In fact, I have talked to him just this morning. He wanted to know about Julius and also asked about Amos-“
“I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help but interrupt. “For many years?”
“Oh, certainly. Amos, Julius and I, we have known Jonathan Hazenberg ever since he was but an apprentice.”
That last word hit Victor like a big needle.
“Apprentice?” he repeated.
“Yes. We met him as he worked on a dear friend’s case, an unfortunate one also. Samuel Black was the Chief Detective at the time and Jonathan was his assistant and apprentice. He was the one who conducted the interviews on our family-“
“I’m sorry, my Lady, I have to go.” Victor got up abruptly, heart beating fast and furious.
“But… now?” she asked, eyes widened in surprise and confusion.
“I just… I remembered something of high importance I must attend to.” Victor was way too troubled to come up with a decent and believable excuse, but at that point, he didn’t really care. “I’m really sorry, but I have to leave, my Lady.”
“Su-sure,” she replied as he quickly left the room.
Victor walked in a hurry, bent on leaving the mansion as fast as possible. His mind was racing, a whole new set of possibilities and theories running in front of him. He knew he was on to something important, he just needed to find a calm place, concentrate and put it all together, maybe bounce ideas off of someone. He knew he had all the important pieces; he just had to put them together to finally understand the puzzle.
In a way, he was sure everything should make sense now.
Garret’s apprentice wasn’t Patrick Peterson. Garret’s detective wasn’t Samuel Black.
It was, and had always been, Jonathan Hazenberg.