Page 41 of Tainted Reasoning

“I’ll come with you,” I offer without hesitation.

“Thank you. You never know, I might need a lawyer.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” I stand, and taking his hand, we follow the butler to the entrance of the house. I’m expecting plain clothes police officers, for some reason, but when I see they are in uniform, I can’t help but feel even more uneasy.

“Hello,” – William steps forward to greet the officers – “I’m William Cavendish, Earl Lullington. How may I help you?”

“Good afternoon, My Lord. We have a um… a delicate matter we need to discuss with you.” The two uniformed officers, one male and one female, look toward me. The policewoman barely looks older than eighteen.

“This happens to be my lawyer, Miss Bennett. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of her.”

“Miss Bennett…Tamara Bennett?” the female officer questions.

“Yes,” William answers.

“In that case, is there somewhere more comfortable we can talk?” The male officer jerks his head toward the door to the lounge. It’s as though he’s trying to tell William something, but I can’t quite understand what.

“Officers, if there is an issue, could you tell us please? We are very busy today,” William responds and folds his arms across his chest to signify he’s not moving.

“My lord, as you wish,” the male officer replies and turning to his colleague, he nods at her.

“Miss Bennett. I’m sorry to inform you that we were called to an incident earlier today in Kensington Park. On arrival, we found the body of a woman. She’d been attacked, raped and murdered. I’m sorry, Miss Bennett, but from the records we have, we believe the woman was your mother, Elsie Bennett.”

The sound of the officer’s words rushes through my ears like the wind of a gale. I’m not quite able to take them in before I feel myself falling to the hard marble floor. I never land, though, for I’m scooped into William’s arms and seated on a nearby chaise longue.

“Bring brandy!” William shouts, and I’m unable to tell him I don’t need it because no words can come out. My mother is dead. Beaten and raped. I don’t need to be told who the culprit was because I already know – it was Viscount Hamilton.

“Have you arrested someone for the attack?” I come back to my senses. “Viscount Hamilton, do you have him in custody?”

“I’m sorry?” the male officer questions with confusion. “Viscount Hamilton? Her employer?”

“Yes. Do you have him in custody?” I ask again through gritted teeth.

“Miss Bennett, the Viscount was the person who found her and identified the body. He’s terribly distraught. From all accounts, your mother was one of his favorite employees.”

“So favorite that he raped her twenty-three years ago to conceive me. I want him arrested. Now!” I shout, and William tucks me under his arm.

“My apologies. I’m afraid Miss Bennett is distraught at this news.”

“I’m not distraught.” I push William away. “Give them the clothes and the letter. It’s my mother’s proof.”

“Earl Lullington?” the male officer queries, pulling out his notebook to start writing details down. Finally, they’re taking me seriously. He doesn’t write, though. He reads from something already entered.

“Miss Bennett. We’ve already taken samples of DNA from your mother. Nothing, so far, matches with that of Viscount Hamilton. He volunteered to be tested himself just in case it would help.

“No.” I shake my head at them. “No. You’ve got it wrong. I want to see her, please.”

The officer nods.

“We’ll take you to the morgue, at once.”

I try to stand up, but my legs are too weak. William picks me up in his arms and carries me to the police car. I’m barely thinking straight, in fact, I’m barely functioning as we speed through the streets to my mother. My mother is dead – raped and murdered. I didn’t want her to go back, but she did, and now she’s dead. It’s my fault. I should have stopped her. Why did we have to get mixed up in this secret society in the first place? I want my mother – I want to hear her voice, and I want to know she’s alright and not suffering. But it doesn’t matter what I want because it can’t change anything. She must have suffered so much at the end. She was hurting and in pain, and I didn’t know. I couldn’t stop it, and I couldn’t save her. I’m crying – my tears soak through William's shirt as he holds me closer to his chest. I vaguely register us arriving at our destination and him helping me out of the car. My legs are walking, but I’m not controlling them. I’m relying on William for support because I know I’ll crumble if I let go. Doors are opening, people are talking around me, but I’m not taking anything in. Nothing registers in my numb brain until I see her. She’s so tiny, my mother, the only person who’s ever loved me unconditionally. She’s lying on a silver table with a white sheet pulled up to her neck. Her face is covered in bruises, and her lips are swollen. Her eyes are shut, and she’s pale, so very pale, like a ghost, but then I suppose that’s what she is now: a spirit in the ether. I can only hope she comes back to haunt Viscount Hamilton, tormenting him so much he jumps from the highest building.

“Mummy,” I whisper. I want her to answer. I want her to open her eyes, but she doesn’t. She’s dead. She’s really dead. Bringing my hand up to her cheek, I stroke it. There’s still a little warmth to her flesh. “I’m sorry,” I cry, the words coming out of me in ragged sobs. “I love you. I promise you I will end him.”

I take one final look at my mother before returning to William who’d been waiting at the doorway to give me some time alone with her. His eyes are watery, and I know he’s feeling the emotion of the situation. He wraps his arms around me, and I bury my head in his chest and allow the grief to come.

---