The Black Country

echoing across the ice. A low whistle. He strained to pinpoint it, but the breeze picked up and the sound dissipated, blown away like another errant snowflake.

“Father?”

Kingsley looked at Fiona and smiled. “Thought I heard something,” he said.

“I could stay and help you here. Mrs Day will be fine with her sister.”

Kingsley smiled again and glanced around at the others on the platform. Inspector Day was huddled with his wife, both of them whispering. Kingsley had seen many men afraid to touch their pregnant wives for fear they might break them, but the Days stayed in constant physical contact, reaching out to touch each other gently on their arms, their faces, their hair. The wind carried snatches of their conversation to Kingsley.

“It’ll only be a week or two,” Claire said.

“Two?”

“Never mind that. I’ll be back in London before the baby can come.”

“But I’ll be back in London tomorrow.”

“The storm might keep you.”

“What will I do while you’re in Manchester?”

The wind changed direction and their conversation was lost.

Across from them, Hammersmith sat on a long bench next to Henry Mayhew, the doctor’s assistant. From Kingsley’s vantage point, it looked like Henry was propping the sergeant up.

“I don’t know Mrs Day’s sister or her abilities,” Kingsley said. “I need you to watch over her.”

“Yes, but-”

“I’ll have Henry here to help me.”

Fiona frowned and looked away, toward the bench and Hammersmith. Kingsley’s smile turned sad and he shook his head. He knew why she wanted to stay. The girl was growing up entirely too fast. He would have to keep a close eye on his youngest daughter in the future.

Jessica Perkins, the village schoolteacher, stood on the periphery of the group. She carried Claire’s bag, but Kingsley didn’t fully understand why she had come along. There was something about her that impressed him. Perhaps she simply needed something to do. She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows in a question. He thought for a moment before calling her over. As Jessica approached, Fiona took a step back and fidgeted with the pad of paper she always carried. She stared at her feet and didn’t acknowledge the schoolteacher.

“Dr Kingsley,” Jessica said.

“Miss Perkins, I have something of a favor to ask of you, while we wait for the weather to do. . what it is that weather does. You’re accompanying Sergeant Hammersmith to see the children, correct? The siblings of the missing boy?”

“I believe I am.”

From the corner of his eye, Kingsley saw Fiona bristle. He ignored her. “I was wondering if you would attempt an experiment for me.”

“An experiment? Nothing dangerous, I hope.”

“Not at all,” Kingsley said. “At least, I don’t think it ought to be.”

He was interrupted by the distant whistle of the approaching train. That, he thought, must be why I heard whistling earlier. He had only a few moments left in which to say good-bye to Fiona, and so he filled Jessica in on his plan as quickly as he could, trusting that she understood what he wanted to achieve.

29

They both looked up when they heard the train’s whistle.

“All I have to do is hop onto the train as it pulls away and I could go with you,” Day said.

“Lovely as that sounds, there are people here who are depending on you,” Claire said. “You can’t abandon them.”

“But I could.”

“But you won’t.”

Day sighed and shook his head. “You’re not telling me the things I want to hear,” he said.

“True. I’m a terrible wife.”

“You’re no such thing.”

“You know, as easy as it would be for you to jump on the train and come with me, it might be even easier if I were to not get on the train in the first place. I could get a room at the inn here.”

Day looked up at the sky. He almost reached out to put a hand on his wife’s pregnant belly, but there were too many other people nearby. “No,” he said. “If Mr Rose is correct, there’s worse weather coming. You might be trapped here, and with the baby on its way. .”

“I would be trapped here with my doctor.” Claire rolled her eyes in Kingsley’s direction. The doctor was at the far end of the platform, deep in discussion with the village’s schoolteacher.

“Also,” Day said, “and this is no small thing, there’s something very wrong going on here in Blackhampton. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if murder’s been done. Can’t have you near that.”

“As opposed to Manchester, you mean? Or London? That crime-free utopia?”

“I don’t even know what that word means. You’ve been reading too much.”

“What else do I have to do with my time?”

“Think about me.”

“I do that while I’m turning the pages of my books. For seconds at a time.”

Day chuckled.

“I wish you’d let me stay,” Claire said.

Day opened his mouth, but Claire put her hand up before he could speak. “I understand,” she said, “and I shan’t argue further.” She looked past him at the bench on the depot wall. “But I do think Nevil ought to go to London on the first train back. He looks a fright.”

Day turned and glanced at Hammersmith. “He’s as stubborn as they come. Even if I ordered him, he wouldn’t go.”

“Is there anything we can do for him?”

“The best we can do for him is to solve this case.”

Hammersmith saw them looking and smiled, but he looked tired and anxious. As they watched, he raised his hand and absently wiped his nose. A moment later, blood gushed forth with astonishing force, running down over the front of his overcoat. He seemed astonished and sat there, letting his nose bleed. Day leapt away from Claire, reaching for his handkerchief as he moved toward Hammersmith, but Kingsley beat him to the bench. The doctor laid Hammersmith on his back and produced a rag from his satchel. He pressed the cloth to Hammersmith’s nose and held it there.

“I’b fide,” Hammersmith said.

“You’re fine?” Kingsley said. “That seems to be your motto, Mr Hammersmith. And yet you are rarely fine. We must strengthen your grasp of the language so that you can more accurately communicate your state of being.”

“Jus’ a dosebleed.”

“Doctor,” Day said, “could this nosebleed have to do with the cold he’s caught?”

“In my experience, a cold doesn’t produce nosebleeds. But dry winter air certainly can. This weather isn’t helping him.”

“Perhaps you should return to London,” Day said. “I can carry on here. I have Constable Grimes to help.”

“An’ where is he?” Hammersmith said.

“I suspect he’s around somewhere, probably trying to prove he can do the job as well as we can. He’ll turn up.”

“I’ll be here whed he does.”