Chapter 28 - Demands of the Dead

She opens her eyes and realises where she is. She is startled but does not understand why she is back here. Behind her stands the Countess' home. She is standing at the edge of the lake. There are no boats around and she feels confused.

She looks out across the lake but there is something amiss: the folly is no longer there. The small island still sits in the middle of the lake, as it always has, but the tall, grey-brick tower has disappeared.

She begins to walk out into the lake. It is near dawn and a crisp chill fills the air. She walks into the cold water but feels at ease, so begins to swim.

When she reaches the middle part of the lake, she ceases swimming. She discovers the water now reaches up to her chin. The thought she should be fearful enters her mind. But she floats, relaxed, upon the surface of the water.

As she does, she cries out, "I am here, I am here! I am ready for you!"

Then the clear water beneath her begins to change to a deep, crimson colour. There is also a stench of death and she realises she is now in a lake filled with blood.

She turns around and begins to swim back towards the shore.

Once she is able to stand, she starts to drag herself towards the shallow water. And as she steps to pull herself upright from of the water, a hand clings to her foot. She attempts to shake it free, but it's cold, vice-like grip claws into her skin, scraping and scratching. She again tries to jerk herself free but the hand will not relent. She feels herself being pulled back into the deeper part of the water. She feels helpless. She is being pulled beneath the water and is struggling for breath. Feels as if she is about to drown...

Her eyes opened and she sensed she was awake. She was still startled and for a moment was unsure where she was. A light shone in through the window: a new day had begun, she thought. She knew what she must do and the distraction of sleep and the terror of nightmares must be left aside.

For now, at least, she concluded.

Later that day, after Jack and Tom had been dragged from their sleep, they walked out and about near Holborn police headquarters, all the while keeping an eye peeled for any sign of Blake.

Close to the market, Maggie found a torn and fading billposter, not far from where she had first come across a similar one, some months earlier. She could see the name, Christabel, printed upon the poster. But when she looked to find an address or contact, she discovered the section had been torn away, and she could not make out whom to contact with information. She looked around but could not find another similar poster to the one she had removed and gripped in her hand.

Then Tom called to her, "Look, Sis. Look at this."

Among the billposters for missing persons, lost animals and miracle cures, there was a Metropolitan Police poster. Tom had read most of its contents by the time Maggie reached his shoulder. It was a Police poster.

"Is this true, Sis?" he asked.

"Of course not! It's all lies," she said as she ripped down the poster which proclaimed Thomas Francis Power a wanted man, "For Mutilation and Murder."

On their way back to the shelter for the night, Maggie found similar posters and she ripped every last one from the walls with a persistent cry of, "lies, lies, lies!"

Next day, they spent another fruitless day hovering in and around Hunter Street Station. They spent hours going back and forth to the police station house, all the while keeping a look out for Blake. The idea was to locate him and follow him and hope that he would listen to their story.

On the day after, they tried again and waited on the corner across from the same building like they had the previous days. The three children glanced across the road, trying not to raise the suspicious of passers-by, as they awaited the appearance of Sergeant Blake

When a non-uniformed man left the building, Maggie was convinced it was Blake. "There, that's him!" she cried pointing to the man walking across the road in front of them.

"Are you sure? He ain't wearing peelers stitches, and that don't seem right."

"Maybe he's one of those undercover men you spoke of?" suggested Tom.

"Maybe. But I still don't trust him. In a uniform or not, he's still filth."

"I trust him," responded Maggie. "When he passes, we need to follow, but stay a good distance behind him. And be sure not to lose sight of him. Come on." She turned to the boys and beckoned them to follow her.

Jack was especially fearful and had made his feelings clear throughout the journey, scolding himself, "following a bleedin' peeler," he muttered through his clenched teeth.

They followed him on a short walk to a neat, little house, which he entered and closed the door to.

They hesitated. This wasn't part of the plan.

"I must be mad. Why didn't we collar him before he entered the house," seethed Jack.

"It's too late now, we'll have to knock," said Maggie.

"He could turn out to be like all the rest. Then where will we be?" he badgered Maggie again as they reached the front door. "What will we do if he ain't interested in Whitmore or the Countess, eh? We're looking at prison time, transportation -"

"It's a chance we'll have to take. Do you want to be on the run for the rest of your life? Not knowing if those murderers are going to finally track us down?" Maggie whispered in frustration.

Tom had persuaded Maggie that he too should go with them to Blake's home. He reasoned that if she and Jack were arrested, then he would want to be taken away too. There would be nobody left for him. "And what would be the point in being without the two of them?" he asked

They stood outside the house. Tom watched as Jack squirmed and twitched before saying, "Here goes then, Maggie. You know what you got to say?"

Maggie stepped forward and knocked upon the door. She braced herself and waited. The fear of what Jack suggested, that Blake might yet arrest them, always on her mind, as she finally let the knocker fall nosily against the door.

When the door opened, the police officer stood looking back at Maggie, not recognising her. Blake then looked to Jack, but it was only when his eyes fell upon Tom, he showed any sort of recognition.

"Thomas?" he asked. "Thomas Power, I've been looking all over for you and-" he paused and looked closely at the person in the middle, recognisable but somehow changed. He mouthed, hesitantly, the word Maggie.

She looked to him and said, "Sergeant Blake, may we come in, we have urgent business." She took off the hat and allowed her long hair to fall over her face and shoulders.

"Maggie!" he exclaimed. "Come in, all of you come in."

As Maggie stepped beyond the threshold of the house, she turned to Blake and in a breathless rush of words began pouring out each thought that had been distracting her for days: "Sergeant Blake, we've come to tell of murders; murders and kidnappings. Of the men who murdered Mr William Turner, of a strange, rich lady who lives in the country..."

Blake smiled and shook his head. "Yes, yes, of course you have," he laughed. "Now, for a moment, won't you calm yourself, come inside, sit down and we'll talk about all of these matters in due course."

***