Blight was resting on a cushioned seat, helping himself to a glass of wine and a slice of cake. Before him, on the laced cloth covering the table, lay a letter he was writing to Rook
Shifting suspicion now would be the optimal time to do it. Their case on me is merely based on suspicion, and judging from what I've seen and heard from my sources in the Constabulary, Rook is not far from danger. Those two… I'm sure Sigerson has his attention turned to Rook; he knew there was a hidden shooter in a separate building that day… It would not be difficult to link Rook to the crime due to his size and shooting skill, but that is hardly going to build a strong enough case against him…
The only piece of evidence that could incriminate him would be his possession of the airgun; after all, the shoes that created the footprints are destroyed and the bullets are all that remain. If the airgun remains hidden, nothing will be made certain; only suspicion will linger. Should I sacrifice Rook for a better advantage? The threat, however, still remains… How do I deal with those two? If I can isolate them, it will become much easier to eliminate them… To eliminate them one at a time would be the safest option. If one gets away, it could take some time to track them down again, though…
Miss Evelyn was certainly cleverer than I had anticipated; she didn't seem to fall for my trap… Still.. It is untrue to say that I have achieved nothing; that conversation reflected the young lady's mind perfectly. Her personality is rather… dauntless. Her trust and loyalty to her cousin is admirable, but even so, the biggest strength can be a double-edged weapon…
He stared out of the train window. The scenery was slowly changing. Soon, he'd be back in his study, filing paperwork and showing the kind side of him to his household.
"I'd better finish this letter quickly," he told himself, scribbling away on the paper. "Wait… Maybe just one last thing…"
Jotting down a few additional lines, he sighed with satisfaction and slid it into a brown envelope, sealing it securely.
—
When Sigerson returned at last, the sky had darkened and the lamp-posts were lit up. His slightly dishevelled appearance and muddy shoes only made him look worse; as he removed his coat, an angry, blistering welt across his arm came into view.
"Hunting crop," he explained briskly, after seeing Evelyn's concerned reaction, "One of the ruffians in the streets snuck up to me as I was returning from running my errands. There was a small scuffle, which I didn't entirely manage to avoid, but in the end, I flattened him with a right hook to his jaw, and now the inspector's got his hands on him."
"I'm sorry I took your revolver—"
"It's fine; I gave it to you myself. I could tell you needed it more than I did."
"That's right—there's something important I have to tell you, William," said Evelyn. Sigerson listened silently as Evelyn recounted her morning and the conversation with Blight. At last, when she had finished talking, he paced around the room, head down and considered all the facts that were in his grasp.
"Although you didn't know," he said, not meeting his cousin's eyes, "I actually set up security arrangements before you woke up; that's why Blight didn't just kill you there."
"If that's true," Evelyn began slowly, "Then Blight might have spies in the Constabulary. How else could he have known there about the additional security around the place? If he didn't know, which isn't likely, he could have just sent people to break into the room or maybe slip a poison into a meal. After all, he is intent on removing us out of his way; I could tell from our conversation that he meant business…"
Deeply perplexed, Sigerson continued to pace with forceful steps.
What did he mean by telling me to meet him at the station? Is this a trap or does he want me to solve something and find a false clue?
"Evie," he said, suddenly stopping with his back to her. "Can you get ready in ten minutes? I want to leave as soon as possible."
"Everything's packed into a small trunk."
"Excellent. Now, I'll explain everything I've planned so far; I have already written to the inspector, informing him of our situation. He's helped prepare a cab to meet us at the emergency exit. From there, we will take the cab to Eden's train station."
"Why not take a train from Sodor?"
"Too many of Blight's spies are positioned there and he probably already predicted my plan, since he mentioned the train to you. No—it's far safer to take a train from Eden instead, where he doesn't expect us to be. Besides, I have an informant in Eden, who's told me that the station there is usually quiet and empty during the night; that way, it'll be far easier to notice any stalkers coming at us. The only problem with this is, although we can spot the enemy easily, we'll be out in the open for them to attack."
He pulled out another revolver from his pocket and placed it onto the table, along with a small leather pouch filled with tiny lead balls.
"From now on, this will be yours."
Tucking the weapon away safely into her cloak, Evelyn asked, "When are we leaving?"
"Soon. I believe the designated time was four in the evening. We still have an hour before departure; if you need to do anything else, do it now. There won't be much rest during the journey."
For the rest of the time remaining, Sigerson sat back in the armchair, his chin on his chest, breathing slowly. Rhythmic ticking coming from the clock put a drowsy spell on everything in the room, making time seem slower than usual. Then, glancing sideways at the clock, he jumped up and said, "It's ten till four. We're leaving now."
"There's only one trunk containing both our things," explained Evelyn, as Sigerson strode over to her. "It should be light to carry around. How is it? Is it too heavy?"
He lifted it up, tested the weight, and nodded in approval.
"A bit, but I'll manage."
The two of them made their way downstairs and around the winding corridors, careful to avoid other people as much as possible. Waiting for them in a back alley was the cab with black curtains, drawn to veil the inside of it, and its driver, looking grimmer than the detective. The journey to the station was far from cheerful; it was no lighter than the mood of a funeral.
They all sat in silence, with Sigerson resuming his thinking from a few minutes ago, Evelyn peering out of a gap between the drawn blinds on the window, and the cabman clenching his teeth, eager to finish the job quickly and perhaps get a drink later before heading home. About half an hour passed, and Sigerson, who opened his eyes but seemed to be troubled, started muttering the names of the streets and roads as they drove past, while staring at the black curtains with a concentrated face.
"Shaftsbury Road… King Street… A left turn, then a right? Earlfort Road… Now, Miriam Avenue—"
"Actually, I think we're on Harper Street now," chimed Evelyn softly, sitting back with her arms crossed. "Mrs Pherson, the shopkeeper a few streets away from our place, warned me a few days ago of the construction site that was working there."
Loud hammers and strong voices rang outside of the cab; they couldn't see it, but it was clear that they were passing a construction site.
"Harper Street? Hold on… You're right; we should be on Twinings Road then… Prepare yourself; we'll be getting off soon."
"But it'll take at least another half hour until we reach the station."
"I know, but it's highly likely Blight has spies in the police force, as you mentioned before. Therefore, he'll be expecting us to arrive at the station in a cab. If we walk the last few kilometres, we'll be able to hide our trail for a while, since everyone will be waiting for us to arrive at the station."
What a wait it was! Ears straining, every muscle in his body tensing, and mind whirring chaotically, Sigerson listened for the right moment to depart from their cab as it continued to rumble onwards. When the cab drove over a particularly bumpy road, Sigerson slid open the trapdoor above him and told the cab driver, "Stop here cabman."
The cab driver, evidently confused, halted the cab. When Sigerson and Evelyn stepped out of the cab, the cabman looked down and asked, "Is there anything wrong, sir?"
"Not at all; we would like to walk the rest of the way, that is all."
Then, seeing the cabman's bewildered expression, he added, "A sovereign for your troubles. Please keep this a secret; if anyone asks you where you left us, including the police, tell them that you dropped us off at the inn."
Watching the cab fade into the setting sun, Evelyn turned to Sigerson and asked, "Where do we go from here? We're already close to Eden aren't we?"
"That's right," answered Sigerson, taking the trunk. "I've familiarized myself with Eden and its surroundings during the past week, so we won't get lost. The station arrival was only a red herring; I had no intention of boarding a train today."
They walked into town, gazing at the different shops and inhaling the fresh air. Spending such an extended amount of time in the cab did not dull the energetic detective's senses; on the contrary, he was filled with a kind of purposeful fervour. Every building was marked, every signpost remembered, and every person observed.
"Now," started Sigerson, "I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but I'll just tell you now: I'm engaged to someone."
"What? Who is it?"
Evelyn knew her cousin too well; most people avoided him because of his apparent coldness to people inferior to him in intelligence. He was usually the type of person who would rather hide their emotions than show them.
"Elena Keller. She's one of the maids in Blight's employment."
"Surely this is taking it a bit too far, don't you think, Will?", asked Evelyn, hesitantly. "I mean, you'll need to spend time with her and investigate at the same time, don't you? Are you sure it was necessary?"
"Not necessary, but highly rewarding; the information I have gained through her was much more than anything the Constabulary could have offered me."
Although Evelyn still remained conflicted about the idea, she stayed silent. What use was it now, to try and reason with him? Once her cousin was determined to achieve something, he would never stop until he reached his goal.
"This is the inn where we'll be staying tonight," said Sigerson, as the two of them approached the brick building.