The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle

She’s staring at the Plague Doctor as well, except instead of my confusion, there’s horror. She’s gone pale, her fingers clutching at my sleeve.

‘We haven’t solved it,’ she says, speaking under her breath. ‘We still don’t know who kills Evelyn Hardcastle, the real Evelyn Hardcastle. And our suspect pool is down to two.’

A cold weight settles on me.

I’d hoped Anna’s unmasking of Evelyn would be enough to earn her freedom, but she’s right. For all the Plague Doctor’s talk of redemption and rehabilitation, he still needs one more life to pay the piper, and he expects one of us to deliver it.

Evelyn’s still pacing, still tearing at her hair, still distracted by Michael’s death, but she’s too far away to ambush. Maybe Anna or I could wrestle the gun from her hand, but not before the other one was shot dead.

We’ve been tricked.

The Plague Doctor stayed away on purpose so he wouldn’t have to hear Anna’s answer and confront the good woman she’s become. He doesn’t know I was wrong about Michael.

Or he doesn’t care.

He’s got what he wanted. If I die, he’ll free me. If she dies, she’s trapped here, just like his superiors wanted. They’re going to keep her forever, no matter what she does.

Unable to hold in my despair in any longer, I run to the window and bang on the glass.

‘It’s not fair!’ I scream at the distant shape of the Plague Doctor.

My fury startles Anna, who jumps away in fright. Evelyn advances on me with her gun raised, mistaking my anger for panic.

Desperation claws at me.

I told the Plague Doctor I wouldn’t abandon Anna, that I’d find a way back into Blackheath if they released me, but I can’t spend another day in this place. I can’t let myself be slaughtered again. I can’t watch Felicity’s suicide, or be betrayed by Daniel Coleridge. I can’t live any of this over, and part of me, a much larger part than I’d ever have believed possible, is ready to rush Evelyn and be done with it all, regardless of what happens to my friend.

Blinded by my misery, I don’t notice Anna come to me. Ignoring Evelyn, who’s watching her the way an owl might a dancing mouse, Anna takes both my hands and stands on her tiptoes, kissing me on the cheek.

‘Don’t you dare come back for me,’ she says, pressing her forehead to mine.

She acts fast, turning on her heel and leaping at Evelyn in one fluid motion.

The gunshot is deafening, and for a few seconds its fading echo is all there is. Crying out, I rush to Anna’s side, even as the gun clatters to the floor, blood seeping through Evelyn’s shirt above her hip.

Her mouth opens and closes as she drops to her knees, a silent plea held in those hollow eyes.

Felicity Maddox is standing in the doorway, a nightmare come to life. She’s still wearing her blue ball gown, now dripping wet and covered in mud, her make-up running down pale cheeks scratched by her hurried flight through the trees. Her lipstick is smeared, her hair wild, the black revolver steady in her hand.

She throws us a quick glance, but I doubt she sees us. Rage has left her half mad. Pointing the revolver at Evelyn’s stomach, she pulls the trigger, the shot so loud I have to cover my ears as blood splashes across the wallpaper. Not satisfied, she fires again, Evelyn collapsing on the floor.

Walking over to her, Felicity empties the last of her bullets into Evelyn’s lifeless body.

60

Anna’s face is pressed against my chest, but I can’t look away from Felicity. I don’t know if this is justice or not, but I’m desperately grateful for it all the same. Anna’s sacrifice would have set me free, but the guilt would never have let me go.

Her death would have made me a stranger to myself.

Felicity saved me.

Her revolver’s empty, but she’s still pressing the trigger, burying Evelyn in a chorus of hollow clicks. I think she would go on forever, but she’s interrupted by the Plague Doctor’s arrival. He gently takes the weapon from her hand and as if a spell’s been broken, her eyes clear, life coming into her limbs. She looks bone-tired and emptied out, pushed beyond thought.

With a last lingering look at Evelyn’s body, she nods to the Plague Doctor, before brushing by him and disappearing outside, not even a lantern to guide her way. A moment later, the front door opens, the sound of pounding rain filling the air.

I let Anna go and slump onto the carpet, holding my head in my hands.

‘You told Felicity we were here, didn’t you?’ I say through my fingers.

It comes out as an accusation, though I’m certain I’d meant to signal my gratitude. At this point, with all that’s happened, perhaps there’s no untangling the two.

‘I gave her a choice,’ he says, kneeling down to close Evelyn’s still-open eyes. ‘Her nature took care of the rest, as did yours.’

He’s looking at Anna as he says this, but his gaze soon passes over her, roaming the blood-splattered walls, before returning to the body lying at his feet. Part of me wonders if he isn’t admiring his own work, the indirect ruin of a human being.