“Leave me.” He fumbled in his waistcoat pocket and pulled out something that glittered faintly. “Take this, Sir John’s Breguet watch. Sell it or claim the reward. Just go. Say I gave you the slip in the dark.”
Robbie did not reply. The memory of Mary filled his mind, and the bloody stain spreading over the yellow silk dress. He moved slowly towards the clergyman. Fanmole clambered on the low wall around the abutment on which the tower stood, intending to drop down to the little footpath beneath. But Robbie’s advance made him change his mind and retreat along the parapet of the wall.
“No,” he said, flapping his hand as though waving Robbie away. “Pray leave me. I have valuables concealed in a place nearby. I shall tell you where to find them.”
He held out the watch. Robbie stepped forward and snatched it. But Fanmole jerked backwards immediately afterwards. By now he was on the corner of the wall, where it swung through ninety degrees to run parallel with the river more than 200 feet below.
“Watch out,” Robbie shouted.
But the clergyman’s hunched figure was still moving backwards. His left leg stepped into nothing.
Nothing begets nothing, as my mother used to say, Robbie thought.
Fanmole toppled out of sight. Branches snapped and crackled as he tumbled down the steep slope. He cried out only once. Then came a moment’s utter silence.
At last there was a thud: and another, longer silence, this time as long as the century.
6: Postscriptum
Clearland Court
Lydmouth
23rd January
My Dear Brunel,
You will have heard from my solicitor that I have decided to accede to your request: I hope it will not be too many years before the Great Western Railway will bring you to Lydmouth.
As to that other business, I cannot tell you how glad I am that the girl, Mary Linnet, is no longer at death’s door. Without her intervention in Rodney Place, I might not have survived to write this letter. Both she and her mother are now on the road to recovery and I shall find them respectable employment when their health is restored.
It was fortunate that, with the obstinacy of his breed, my hackney driver chose to pound on the door to demand his fare. Trevine tells me that Fanmole believed the knocking heralded the arrival of the constabulary, and that this precipitated his fatal decision to flee.
I am informed that goods worth several thousand pounds were found in the shed which Fanmole rented by the Gorge. It appears that the work of his so-called Missionary Society among the poor allowed him to recruit weak-minded young people, such as Mary Linnet, and set them to thieving and other mischief on his behalf in Bristol and neighbouring towns. (So you see, my dear sir, the railway is not an unmitigated blessing!)
But Fanmole’s desire to have revenge on me proved his undoing. When he saw my arrival in Bristol announced in the newspapers, he sent the girl to discover where I was staying; she was then to take hold of me when I returned to the room, ring the bell, and complain vigorously that I had assaulted her! His design was to destroy my reputation as, he believed, I had destroyed his.
As you know, the matter turned out very differently: and this was in great part due to the young man Robert Trevine, who returned my late brother’s watch to me. He appears honest; he can even read and write. I offered to find him a situation on one of my estates — but no! the fellow wants nothing better than to stay in Bristol or its environs and work for you in some capacity on the Great Western Railway! It is true he shows some mechanical aptitude, but I fancy that the presence in the city of a certain young woman may have something to do with it. In any event, I should be very grateful if you could find him a position.
I am, sir, yours very truly,
Copyright ©2006 by Andrew Taylor
The Royals of San Marco High
by Jodi Tamara Harrison
Jodi Harrison has been writing stories, poems, and songs since she was six, but up till now she has shared them only with family and friends. She is a lawyer, and currently lives and works in North Carolina, though she confesses that her heart remains in the lake country of northwest Montana where she was born and raised.
So you’re recording this now? No, I do not want my mom here. She’d be all, Ashley, you snuck out? Ashley, why aren’t you in school? I mean, sure, one of my best friends was just murdered, but that doesn’t mean my mom would be okay with me skipping school. Can’t I just tell you what I know? If I help you figure out who killed Chelsey, then you can help me explain to my mom why I’m at the police station instead of in math class. Okay?
Okay. The four of us all go to San Marco High — Lauren and Chelsey and Madison and me. We are, like, the royalty of San Marco High. You’re probably going, love yourself much? but I’m not saying we call ourselves that. That’s what everybody else calls us — the Royals. Not the teachers but, you know, everybody who counts. People watch us and listen to us. And some of the other girls really, really hate us. They say some really mean stuff behind our backs, but never to our faces, because if we cut you dead you are dead at school. Life can’t suck much worse than being on our shit list. But the list is totally short! Because like our Current Affairs teacher, Mr. Addison, says, if you have power, you have to use it responsibly.
So, anyway, the four of us are totally close. We hang out together and eat lunch together — nobody sits at our table without an invitation. We call each other and decide what we’re going to wear and how we’ll do our hair. Mostly Chelsey does that because she’s so totally into fashion. Was, I mean. And we date the best guys, like the varsity football players and the guys on the water polo team — who are totally built — but we never steal guys from each other because we’re friends and friends don’t do that.
It’s weird, people think we’re all the same and at the same time they think we’re all different, and neither of those is right. What I mean is, everyone thinks we’re all the same just because we wear the same styles and live in the same neighborhood and are all really popular, but we’re not really that much alike. And then people stick us in these different roles, like we’re the Powerpuff Girls or something, and that’s not right either. Like, I’m the Smart One, just because I get good grades and actually take honors classes, but I don’t think I’m that much smarter than the other girls, I just — I like school. I’m totally not supposed to admit that, but it’s the truth. Madison is the Shy One, except she really isn’t, she just doesn’t like to talk to people, except guys, and then she sort of looks up at them through her hair and they’re like, man, she is so cute and shy, but she isn’t, she’s just reeling them in, you know? Same thing with Chelsey — she’s supposed to be the Nice One ’cause she talks to everyone, but it isn’t like it’s that hard to say hi to people in the halls. But if you really piss her off? She will make you pay for it big time. Like I borrowed this Donna Karan sweater of hers one time? I snagged it getting out of Josh Miner’s Miata but it was totally an accident and I was like, I’m really sorry and I’ll buy you a new one, which I did, but she still didn’t speak to me for, like, three weeks. Which kind of pissed me off, you know? So then I was all, I don’t need to talk to her either if she’s going to be such a bitch, but Lauren was like, both of you just get over it. Lauren’s role is the Leader and, yeah, I guess that’s accurate. But I think she’s in charge because the rest of us don’t really care about making the plans and basically driving the bus, and she likes to do it. It’s not like she’s got Stellar Leadership Qualities, though I’m actually kind of impressed she thought of this. Though maybe Tanner thought of it. I know he must be sort of smart since now he’s Mister “Going to West Point,” but he totally cheated on the U.S. Government exam, so it’s not like you can tell how smart he is by the grades he gets. That really pissed me off — because I studied for that test! And I got an A, of course, but on my own, but he got an A because he assists Mrs. Chelmiak in our Government class and has access to her desk, and he totally stole the answer key and photocopied it. And then? After the test? He was totally waving the answer key around and telling people he had it, which is majorly not smart, until Chelsey took it away from him and stuffed it in her backpack and told him not to be an idiot.