Silence for the Dead(98)

And then it stopped.

We looked at one another in the silence.

“By God,” said Paulus hoarsely at last. “I hate that bathroom.”

“That’s the loudest I’ve ever heard it,” Jack said as I reluctantly took my hands from my ears. “Something’s happening.”

The air was thick—anticipation, fear. I didn’t know what it was, but my back ached with tension and my jaw felt stiff. Somewhere, a shutter banged in the rain.

Roger cracked his knuckles. “Let’s find this bastard. I don’t care about ghosts. Just let me lay my hands on Creeton.”

“We need to guard the patients,” Jack replied. “If he’s planning something, he’ll come to them—we won’t have to go anywhere.”

“They’re too exposed in the main hall,” Mabry said. His voice was shaky and he looked even paler. “It’s dark, and he could come from too many directions.”

“I agree,” said Jack. “Where should we move them?”

Mabry thought about it. “The common room. There’s only the one doorway.”

“But it has the French doors to the terrace,” I replied. “He could come through there.”

“Not without someone seeing him,” Mabry replied. “They can be barred. And they let in light. If the generator goes, we want to be in the best-lit room in the house, at least during daylight hours.”

I turned to Jack. “Can we move beds in there? I don’t like having patients on the floor.”

Paulus answered me. “We’ve no folding beds, but we can move mattresses down. How many would we need?”

“Seven,” I replied. “We’ve five sick men, and Archie. And a mattress for the attending nurse to use.”

“Do it,” Jack said to the orderlies.

“We’ll be quick.” Paulus was even paler than before. “I’ve no desire to be up here longer than I have to. Not after that.”

Jack, Mabry, and I descended the stairs to the main floor. “I wish I had a weapon,” Mabry said. “I don’t like how he’s creeping around the house behind our backs. We should be armed.”

“I agree,” said Jack. “A handgun would be best. Too bad they don’t keep them in madhouses.”

I halted on the stairs.

The men stopped and turned. “What is it, Kitty?” said Jack.

I looked at them uncertainly. “Is a Luger a handgun?”

Jack and Mabry exchanged a glance. “Yes,” Mabry said. “It is.”

“Then we have one,” I said. “At least, I think we do. It’s Creeton’s.” I bit my lip. “He told me they took it from him when they checked him in here. There’s a safe in Matron’s office where she locks up the men’s valuables, the things she doesn’t keep in the main cupboard.” I glanced at Jack. “Boney told me about it. If she confiscated Creeton’s gun, she wouldn’t have discarded it. She would have locked it up.”

The men considered this. “And how,” Jack said slowly, “would we get into Matron’s safe?”

I pulled out the key ring I’d taken from her cardigan pocket. It held the key to the cupboard where I’d found Jack’s clothes, but there was a scrap of cloth attached to it as well. I’d noticed it when I’d first grabbed the ring, but I hadn’t paid it much attention. Now I did. Because Matron would have kept the two things together—the key to the men’s belongings and the key to the valuables, two things that were her responsibility alone.

“I think this is it,” I said.

Jack reached for it, but it was Mabry who took it from my hand. He stared at it with what seemed like fascination. Numbers were inked onto the scrap of cloth. Six numbers. A combination.

“The safe,” I said, “will have any valuables the men brought in. Money. Watches. Gold. Passports.” I bit my lip. “All of it.”

Mabry closed his hand around it. He really did look tired, I worried. “Well,” he said quietly. “I believe it’s official. The inmates are now running the asylum.”

“Take it,” I said. “But be aware. Creeton’s going to want the contents of that safe. And he’s going to want his gun.”

“We’ll get it, and we’ll help the orderlies move the sick,” Jack said. “Then we’ll scout the west wing for signs of Creeton. Roger has a key.” He looked at me. “And where are you going?”

“I’m going to find Nina,” I said. “She was exhausted. I think she may have gone to bed.”

“Upstairs in the nursery?”

“Yes. She doesn’t know what Creeton’s been up to. I don’t want her up there alone.”

“Right,” said Jack. “Go get her. We’ll set up her mattress downstairs with the others.” His blue gaze was steady on me. “And for God’s sake, Kitty, be careful.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE


He’d been there before me. Of course he had. In the pit of my gut, I was starting to know that so far we had always been a step too slow, waiting to see what he’d left behind. This time it was Nina.

She lay on the floor of the nursery, where she’d been undressing to go to bed. There was blood on her temple, as if she’d been struck, but her face was flushed and I could see the rise and fall of her chest. For good measure, Creeton had taken a stocking from her drawer and tied her wrists to the foot of the brass bedstead.