Page 58 of From the Ashes
"No further," the constable said, raising his truncheon and backing up toward his fellow policeman, a sergeant, going by his epaulettes. "Don't move."
"They have nothing to do with this," Lincoln said. His fingers wrapped around my arm as if he were reluctant to let me go. "That man hired them today to drive us around."
"It's true," I said. "Can they go?"
The policemen glanced at one another. The sergeant nodded.
Seth's gaze swept over us then he tugged on his hat and climbed up beside Gus. They drove off just as the two policemen who'd chased Mannering returned, alone.
"Go back to your afterlife," I quickly whispered into my coat collar. "I release you."
"Pardon, miss?" the sergeant asked.
I coughed. "You didn't catch that horrible man? Did you see his face? We can describe him, if you like."
"Come down to the station and we'll sort it out there. You too, Mr. Bell."
"Dr.Bell. That man…" He squinted into the white haze of fog. "That was Mannering."
"You know him?"
Bell's gaze flicked to Lincoln. "I…don't know."
The policemen directed Lincoln and me to walk between them. I lifted my collar to my nose but it didn't keep the chill at bay. It felt like I was drowning in fog, so much like the airy stuff spirits were made of.
"Whatever that man stole from you, he took with him," Lincoln said to Bell. "I'm sorry, but we're victims too." If anyone could look at Lincoln and think him a victim, they weren't looking very hard. Even captured as he was, he showed no signs of worry. It was as if he were having a stroll on a pleasant evening.
"I doubt it," Bell growled. "But I won't press charges if you tell me how you did…that."
"Ain't up to you," the sergeant said.
Bell, however, didn't seem to hear him. He grabbed Lincoln's sleeve. Even in the weak light of the streetlamps, I could see the glimmer of something in his wide eyes. Madness? "Please, youmusttell me. I'll give you my entire commission if you'll share your process with me."
The sergeant pulled him off Lincoln. Dr. Bell growled in frustration, but walked meekly the rest of the way to the station. I no longer felt so cold, or so anxious about our fate, because now I knew it wasn't all for naught—Dr. Bellhadbeen commissioned to bring the dead back to life. His reaction proved it.
* * *
"Let her go," Lincoln said after we arrived at the Snow Hill Police Station. "She's done nothing wrong."
"Neither of us has," I said. "That man, Mannering, forced us."
"We've only got your word on that," said the sergeant. "Wait 'till morning. The detective will sort it out. If he thinks you're telling the truth, he'll let you go."
"The morning!" I cried. "But that's hours away. What will you do with us until then?"
"Put you in the holding cells."
Bile surged up my throat. I put my hand out to steady myself. Lincoln stepped toward me, but a policeman held him back while another caught me.
He laughed. "The cells aren't too bad, miss. There's worse in the city, believe me. We keep ours clean and check 'em regular to make sure there ain't no misbehavin'."
I nodded numbly and blinked at Lincoln. He stared back, his eyes as black as London's starless winter night, and just as grim.
"There's only two others in the women's cell," the constable went on cheerfully. "It's always quiet this time of year. Too cold to be out sinning."
Had it really only been six months ago that I'd sat in a cell in the heat of summer? That time, I'd been thrown in with the men. Men who'd seen me as a toy to pass around, and then fight over. Men who wanted my body, even though they thought I was a boy. The spirit of a dead man had come to my aid then, and helped me escape. I had him to thank for being alive, and for changing my life, too.
"Charlie?" Lincoln said softly. "Are you all right?"
