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‘Um…never mind, Sir.’
I didn’t broach the subject again. Although I did wonder why exactly Mr Ambrose wanted to stay in Newcastle at this point. Captain Carter had to stay for now to help maintain order in the city, but Mr Ambrose? His business was concluded. What was he waiting for? What was he doing?
I got an answer to that question all too soon.
*~*~**~*~*
It was around five p.m. and the sun had just begun to set when the pounding on the door started. By the time I reached the hallway, the maids were gathered in a frightened gaggle, clutching each other as if squeezing the blood out of each other’s fingers was somehow a magical protection.
‘What in God’s name is going on here?’ I demanded.
‘Th-there’s someone at the door, Miss,’ Nellie mumbled.
‘I had surmised as much,’ I shot back as the door reverberated under another thunder
ous blow. ‘Why don’t you welcome our visitor?’
‘Well, um…’ Nellie’s nervous glance strayed to the door. She flinched when there was yet another loud thud.
‘Where’s Mrs Gibbons?’
‘Out, Miss.’
‘And Mr Ambrose?’
‘Out as well, Miss.’
‘Well, then we’ll have to take care of this. Open the door!’
‘But, err…Miss…’
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Nellie shrank back.
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Rolling my eyes, I marched down the stairs, and grabbed a solid-looking walking stick from the umbrella stand, likely the property of the late Mr Gibbons. My motto: Better wreckful than reckless. ‘Out of the way! I’ll do it myself.’
Very happy to hear the news, the maids dutifully retreated to a safe distance. I for my part got a good grip on the walking stick, grabbed the doorknob, twisted and pulled.
‘Now listen here, Mister,’ I began. ‘Whoever you think you are, you can’t go around-’
The rest of the sentence stuck in my throat. In front of me stood Captain James Carter. His uniform was torn, and he had a bloody great gash on one side of his head.
‘Holy…!’
The captain staggered inside. Grabbing his arm, I half led, half dragged him towards a chair and dumped him into it.
‘What happened?’ I demanded. ‘Who did this to you?’
‘Close the door!’
‘Not before-’
‘Close the door! Now! They might still be after me.’
At that little comment, the maids moved quicker than a debtor running from Mr Rikkard Ambrose. In a flash, the door was closed, locked and bolted. I turned back to Captain Carter.
‘They? There was more than one?’
