Page 46 of One Last Whisper

Then he turns and runs back the way he came.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Theresa and I share a stunned look. Then we follow him.

Lord Edmund is already ten yards ahead of us, and he rapidly increases that distance. He cries out Cordelia’s name as he runs, and it’s the first time I’ve heard him show fear. Whatever else he might be, he truly loves her.

And what might he be? Up until a few minutes ago, I thought I knew, but now…

The evidence is there. Logically speaking, hemustbe the murderer. No one else has access to this place and no one else had a motive for the deaths of Lady Evelyn and Lady Alivia. Lord Edmund might dismiss the financial relief from their deaths as a pittance, but to a dying man in the desert, even a drop of water is worth killing for. As for Sarah? Well, she didn’t have money, but she had youth, and she was pretty enough. Not statuesque like Lady Cordelia, but the wealthy often feel they can have their cake and eat it too. It’s clear that no one is looking too hard for justice for poor Sarah, so if it wasn’t for us, Lord Edmund would have gotten away with her murder.

But his emotion was genuine, and Lady Cordelia shared a similar story about Lady Alivia’s drug addiction. Oliver’s birth defects are severe, and drug use during pregnancy could explain that. As for Lady Evelyn, it’s not illogical to believe that she was as fragile as Lady Cordelia. Lord Edmund’s story makes sense too.

But do I believe him? Can I believe him when so much hard evidence suggests that he is our killer?

I put those thoughts aside when I hear another cry. “They won’t leave me alone! They won’t leave me alone, Edmund, they won’tleave me alone!”

Theresa and I reach the top of the staircase. We are gasping for breath, but physical exhaustion is the least of our worries right now.

The library window is thrown open again. Standing outside of it on the stone ledge beyond is Lady Cordelia. She is barefoot and wears nothing but a cotton nightgown that is soaked through. Lord Edmund stands inside the window, his hand outstretched to her.

Two others are in the room. Dr. Thornton wears his own nightclothes and stands on the other side of the window, though a few feet back, out of the way of the rain.

The second person is Inspector Hargreaves. He has his gun drawn, aimed at Lord Edmund. He gives me a sober look and nods. I remember the pictures and realize that my phone must have sent them. Perhaps signal was briefly established when we stood on the platform exposed to open air.

Lady Cordelia presses her hands to her temples and shakes her head. She paces back and forth on the stone ledge, nearly falling off. Theresa cries out and drops to her knees, hands clasped in front of her. I might react the same way if fear hadn’t rendered me immobile.

I’ve never seen someone die. This fact hits me like one of the bolts of lightning that strike outside. I’ve seen dead people before. Some time ago in Switzerland, I saw the aftermath of my employer’s gunshot murder. The scene was gruesome, but I didn’t see him actively die. I don’t know how I’ll react if I see Lady Cordelia fall to her death in front of me.

“They won’t let me go,” she sobs. “I hear them all the time shouting at me, crying for me, begging me to join them,compellingme.”

“Lady Cordelia, please,” Dr. Thornton says. “Think about what you’re doing. Oliver needs you. He’s ill right now. He’s alone in a hospital, and when he awakes, he will be frightened. Ifhe sees you there with him, he’ll know he’s safe. He’ll know he’s okay. But he needs toseeyou. You’re his mother now.”

“His mother just told me to jump.” Lady Cordelia laughs. The sound is mad, like the cackling of a hyena. “Did you hear that? She just told me to jump. Headfirst.” She giggles again, and that giggle devolves into a wail of pain.

“Lady Cordelia,” Inspector Hargreaves calls. “You can’t jump. Lord Edmund is wanted for murder. He’ll be taken to jail now. Oliver will have no one but you, and like Dr. Thornton says, he will need you. Youhaveto come back inside.”

Lord Edmund frowns darkly at him. I confess I'm not pleased with Inspector Hargreaves's choice of argument either. Could he not have refrained from mentioning Lord Edmund's arrest until after we've assured ourselves of Lady Cordelia's safety?

Lord Edmund snatches for Lady Cordelia, but she shrieks and claws at his arm. Rivulets of blood well where her nails dig into his skin.“Don’t touch me!” she cries out. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

She moans and looks out at the storm. She is shivering badly, and I don’t know if it’s the cold or her fear that causes it. “I can hear them all the time. They’re telling me to join them. They say they’ll hurt Oliver if I don’t. They say they’ll hurt Edmund. They’ll hurtme.I need to go. I can’t listen to them forever; it’ll drive me mad.”

This ends in an anguished moan that echoes throughout the room. She sounds already like a ghost.

“We can get you help, Lady Cordelia,” Dr. Thornton tries again. “We can help you stop hearing the voices. We have doctors who specialize in treating such nervous afflictions. They can—”

“This is not a nervous affliction, doctor,” she sneers, glaring at him with disgust. “Isee them!Ihear them!They’reout there!”

“They are not,” Dr. Thornton replies. “What you are hearing is not real.”

“Yes, it is,” she insists.

“It isn’t.”

“Itis!”

“Please, my lady,” Theresa cries. “Come back inside. I’ll make us some tea and some warm broth. I’ll bring you warm clothes and a blanket and put something nice on the telly for you. We’ll relax and get some good rest, and in the morning, it’ll all be better.”

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