And then she drew near and he saw the furious red of her eyes and the familiar dilated pupils.
Gasping, breathless, Maurice scrambled to his feet, and all but slammed into the oriental cabinet. The axe swung past, cleaving into lacquered wood, narrowly missing his shoulder. Pills poured out of compartments, scattering across the floor.
Maurice lunged blindly towards the trunks. He weaved through the high stacks, his head throbbing, his legs, cotton under his weight. And in his foggy mind, it was not Mrs. Cleary or Louise who, axe in hand, chased him. It was no other than Therese, the woman he dreaded most. Therese, drunk and revengeful, returning from her work shift, more hateful of her little boy every day.
“I know you are here,” chanted Louise. She chuckled. “Come out, boy, I’ve got some scones for you to eat.”
Heart pounding, he moved deeper behind the stacks of trunks, holding his breath, praying to himself in the way he would pray as a boy. To disappear. To dissolve into vapour. Why could he not disappear?
“Big mistake you made in coming here. You ought to have remained in France. Why did you come here? Well that’s too bad, Mr. Leroux. We’ll just have to tell Mr. Wilson the ghost scared your little heart and that you ran off.”
She gave a deep throated cackle and moved among the trunks. She could not see him but Maurice knew it was just a matter of time.
He huddled behind a stack of sea chests, just opposite the candlestick which had remained on the operating table. He eyed the top most chest, promising himself he would throw one at her once she drew closer.
“Well, well, well, Maurice.” She was searching for him, peering behind every stack nearer to the stone staircase. Her voice echoed in the underground.
“I know what we’ll do with you. We’ll light a bonfire on your bones and forget you were ever here. Nothing will stop me, Maurice. I’ve given up so much already. I’ve saved years for my new life in Australia. You think you could come here and ruin it all? Sophie tried that too. The little tart thought she’d eat up my savings.”
“She didn’t deserve what you did to her.”
Upon hearing Maurice’s voice, Louise whipped her head round to the left and retraced her course.
“Wrong. She got what she deserved. You don’t understand, do you? Of course not. You’ve never in your life grovelled for a living. That’s all I do. Well, no more. I won’t put up with being anyone’s servant any longer. I’ll settle in my Queensland home while the crows pick at your bones.”
It was his best chance. She was closer…
“You’ll be right at home with the convicts, Louise.”
Louise’s nostrils flared at the sound of her real name.
“Foolish Frenchman.”
It was now or never. Maurice erupted from his hiding spot. Seizing the highest most sea chest, he lifted it and hurled it with all his might. Louise screamed. She spun just in time, smashing against a tower of boxes. The thrown chest tumbled past the operating table and skidded across the floor.
“You missed!” she hissed.
The blood drained from Maurice’s face. It was his last chase and he’d failed. Slack-jawed, he stepped back, horrified by the demonic expression on Louise’s face. But he had to know. The words shot out of his mouth: “What then, Louise? You’ll just kill me, like you murdered Aaron and Vera?”
Louise’s upper lip curled.
“You imbecile! I never killed them. Never!”
Maurice hurled himself towards the light, knocking over a stack of trunks. He rose to his feet and tried to run to the stairs but skidded on the wet floor.
Her laughter rose up behind him.
“Well that’s too bad, Mr. Leroux. I shan’t miss you this time.” She hefted up the axe above him.
Maurice gave a pitiful cry. Already he’d closed his eyes, his arms raised above him. He expected the full force of the blade. He waited for the pain to surge through him like fire, but nothing came. Instead Louise March tottered back, wide-eyed. She opened her mouth but no sound came out of it. Maurice’s eyes blinked open, confused by her sudden retreat.
He glimpsed the look of horror on her face and his mind was set alight. A truth he’d dared not consider revealed itself at last. No. Louise had never killed Vera, nor Aaron. She might have wished to avenge her beloved Calista, but someone else had got to Vera first. He thought back to the strange moist film Dr Hart had found on Vera’s body. Somebody else… Something else that lived in water. Ovee.
There was a violent tug and he realised something was pulling at Louise. She fell forward, dropping her axe. Flat on the ground, she was dragged away from him, her high-pitched screams resonating in the chamber.
Maurice rose. He stared in disbelief. Something he’d never seen, something he could not name wrestled with Louise March in the dim light, right there, before the operating table.
By the glow of the candlestick, he saw limbs that were at once unfurling and snakelike but also steady and strong. An undefined form, viscous, and glistening wet, heaved itself, its limbs deployed to frightening length. It fought off Louise’s flailing arms, coiling itself around her wrists and then her neck.
Gripped by sheer terror, the housekeeper cried out in breathless moans. The creature thrust a limb down her throat, blocking her screams. Maurice could not take his eyes from the devilish sight. Louise’s white gown turned a darker colour as urine trickled between her legs.
Maurice could still not identify what had taken her but he knew it was not Medusa. Nor was it a vengeful spirit. This was a living creature. Whatever its nature, its body now slid atop Louise’s chest, then inched towards the housekeeper’s throat
