Page 59 of From the Ashes
I forced a smile. "It's only for a few hours. I can manage until then, and when the inspector hears our story, he'll let us go." I hoped he understood that I was asking him not to make a scene, that I had faith in other, legal, methods.
"Let her go," he said again to the sergeant now steering Dr. Bell to one of the desks. "She's a young lady who doesn't belong in a place like this."
The sergeant sighed. "I agree, but I can't let her go until the inspector has spoken to her. I am sorry, miss." He offered me a smile. "Just a few hours."
It was a good sign that he was treating me gently. It meant he believed our story. I just hoped the detective inspector was as gullible.
Lincoln and I were separated, searched and placed in holding cells next to one another. They might as well have been on opposite sides of the city. We couldn't communicate in any way.
Lincoln had probably disposed of the paperwork in the coach before getting out, so I wasn't concerned about the police finding it. I was more concerned with staying warm in the freezing cell.
My two fellow prisoners were both whores going by their painted faces and low-cut bodices. One, a scrawny figure whose age I couldn't determine in the poor light, sat with her chin resting on drawn-up knees. The other's snores were in danger of waking all of London. She did not rouse when the door slammed shut behind me.
The sleeping prisoner occupied the only bed so I sat on the floor nearby because it was as far from the other woman as possible. It soon became apparent why she'd moved to the opposite side of the cell. The sleeping princess on the bed reeked of gin and vomit.
"I don't smell much better," she said, as if she could read my thoughts. "But I don't have lice." She nodded at the woman scratching her head in her sleep.
I shuffled away from her and closer to the scrawny woman on the floor. She looked to be about my age. Her oily black hair hung around a face marked by the pox, and her shawl was so thin I could see through it in patches.
"You in for stealing too?" she asked.
"Yes, but there's been a mistake."
She snorted. "I tried tellin' 'em that too, but it didn't work."
I hugged my knees as she was doing, but didn't dare close my eyes. I needed to keep my wits about me in case she wanted to attack me and steal my coat. The policemen had left it with me after they'd searched it.
"What'll happen to us, you fink?" she asked after a while.
"I don't know."
"I knew a bloke what was hanged once. A cove in my bruvver's gang, he were. Stole a gold watch off a toff, but he weren't quick enough and got caught. They said his body twitched and jumped 'round in the noose afore it went still. I reckon that's the spirit leavin', goin' up to heaven. What d'you reckon?"
"I think you're right."
She looked satisfied with my response. "My bruvver tried tellin' me there ain't no such thing as spirits and heaven. He says that bein' dead's just like bein' asleep, but I don't fink he's right. He's an idiot. Can't even write his name. I can write me letters, see. I got educated more 'an him."
"Tell your brother when you see him again that I know for a fact that spirits are real."
She raised her head. "How?"
"I've seen them and spoken to them."
She sat up straight. "You one of them mediums?"
I nodded. "Tell your brother there is a heaven, and good people go there in their afterlife. I know it for certain." I don't know why I felt compelled to tell her. Perhaps because she had nothing to look forward to in life, and I wanted her to know something else awaited her after death.
"What's it like?" she asked softly. "Heaven?"
I shrugged. "I don't know."
She scooted across the floor and clasped my arm in both hands. She looked so young and vulnerable with her hollow cheeks, scrawny frame and big eyes, full of wonder. "Tell me about the spirits you seen. What do they look like?"
I described the mists, the lack of color, and some of the conversations I'd had, without giving away too much. I didn't tell her about raising the dead, or the murderers I'd encountered. The more I spoke, the more she curled into my side, clinging to my arm as if she was afraid I'd float away if she let go. After a good while, her eyes began to droop heavily and her yawns grew more frequent.
"Go to sleep," I said quietly. "It'll be morning soon and you'll need your strength for the day ahead." I removed my coat and wrapped it around us both.
She snuggled into me, and her body relaxed into sleep.
