SOOOOOOOO sorry about the formatting errors. I think I finally understand why it's happening and I'll be super duper careful not to let it happen again but thanks for letting me know. REALLY APPRECIATE IT!
But anyways, enjoy this fixed chapter!
Returning to the city also meant ultimately returning to the nobles and their never-ending questions and pointed stares. Will answered any questions about his time in the country short and vaguely. From the corner of his eyes he caught a few extra stares coming from nobles. These stares were different because this time they weren't curious but alarmed. They couldn't have known about Randall, so then what did they know?
Will noticed Chilton weaving through the other nobles in his direction. He immediately tried to escape to his private quarters. No sooner had he stepped away from the nobles then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Forgive me My Lord Chilton, I-" But Will cut himself off. "Jack?"
"Will," Jack said, his voice uncharacteristically emotional. He was relieved, which confused Will. "I'm so sorry, I really am. You know that I tried my hardest to help them, I really did."
"What are you talking about?" Will asked. Jack looked perturbed. Hannibal was staring at them from the other side of the room.
"Didn't you...I assumed you were informed about Price, Zeller, and Beverly while you were away," Jack said. Will froze and grabbed Jack's shoulder.
"No," he said. "What happened?"
Jack looked Will up and down, his lips pursed. Then he took his shoulder and guided him to a side hallway. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. His shoulders were tense and he stood uncomfortably straight.
"While you were away the nature of Price and Zeller's...relationship was discovered," Jack said bluntly. Will opened his mouth but couldn't summon any words. It didn't matter because Jack more to say. "It was sickening how badly the newspapers twisted it out of proportion. The citizens were frenzied after they heard the word 'devil worship', worsened by that damned Archbishop."
"Where are they now?" Will asked desperately, adrenaline making his hands shake.
"I don't know," Jack admitted. "Between us, I did what I could and they escaped execution. But I don't know where they went. Probably France, if I had to guess."
Will stood against a wall, covered his eyes and waited for the world to stop spinning. Jack rested his hand on his shoulder.
"I thought you knew," he said.
"The king has been conveniently hiding information from me," he said. He looked up at Jack. "Was the apartment cleaned out?"
"I know you want to absolve them of guilt," Jack said. "But there was strong evidence and I don't want you involved in something that might be detrimental to your career."
Jack waited for some sign of Will responding or understanding. His vision was focused on the opposite wall.
"Your boys took the evidence but the rest of the house remains intact?" Will asked. Jack reluctantly nodded.
"I'll take you there but only if this will help you cope, not encourage some sort of obsession," Jack said. Will finally looked up at him.
"Thank you," he said. Then he looked anxiously down the hallway. "Let's go now, I'll tell my second in command to keep on eye on the king."
They left the palace stealthily, even though they were fully permitted to leave. Will checked behind every corner before going down each hallway. Jack took note and instinctively followed Will's lead. After they had escaped the palace Will continued to keep his head down and blend into the crowds on their way to the Zellers'.
The windows were uncomfortably dark and dusty when they arrived. Jack unlocked the front door which released stale air from the crypt-like house. Will felt suffocated by it. The familiar sight of Beverly welcoming him at the door was now only a ghost of a memory in an empty hallway. Jack lit a candle which failed to revive the heavy atmosphere and only caused haunting lights to dance across the walls.
"I don't know what you're expecting to find…" Jack said, but Will was already wandering down the hallway. The light from Jack's candle followed him to the workroom. He was disappointed to find it had been sterilized. All the equipment had apparently been confiscated. Now only the work table remained to reflect light in its dull metal.
"The tools were given to the Academy?" Will asked. Jack nodded.
"The Lord Chilton requested them for the London Academy of Medicine and Science," Jack said.
Will turned and left the room, having only stayed in it a moment. Instead he found his way upstairs to Beverly's room. Jack trailed behind. The door opened with a creak of disuse. A faint ray of light fell through the window shades. Will noticed that one side of the neatly pressed bed was much more worn than the other. He didn't have to visit Price's room to know where her husband had really been sleeping.
Next his eyes jumped to the desk, but it was empty. There was nothing in the drawers either.
"Did you take all the letters and papers as well?" he asked.
"Yes. They were evidence, but we didn't find anything particularly damning in there," Jack said. Will turned to Jack.
"Did you donate any of their lab coats to the Academy?" Will asked. "Specifically Beverly's?"
Jack furrowed his eyes for a moment.
"We rummaged Zeller and Price's wardrobes and gave whatever scientific gear we found to the Academy," he said. "But we never found any lab gear for Beverly. I was under the impression she used one of Zeller's."
"Zeller's wouldn't have fit her and Beverly was very particular about having full mobility so as to enhance her precision," Will said. He opened Beverly's wardrobe but found only her dresses. "She wouldn't have had her work clothing lying about in the open. She was careful like that."
Will tried to step into Beverly's shoes. She had a hidden satisfaction from hiding her rebellious work in plain sight, often in masquerading it as her husband's work. Will's eyes crept along the edge of the wardrobe. He ran his hands along the back wall of it but found only smooth wood. Then he looked downwards and noticed from the outside it appeared the wardrobe continued down farther yet the floor of it was higher than anticipated. It was enough room for a hidden box.
He bent down and searched the perimeter of the floor for a switch or hidden lock. His hands caught on an indent in the wood, big enough for him to slip his finger under and pull up. There was a soft click and the wooden panel popped off. He peered inside the hidden drawer and was pleased to find a lab coat, much too small to fit Zeller or Price. There were also a few black books. He skimmed through them and discovered they were Beverly's scientific diaries. Then Will's heart stopped.
A pile of letters were loosely tied together and stuffed in the back corner, as if in a rush. Will gently picked them up and started to sift through them. He picked up the one on the bottom, assuming it was the first. He was correct. But he was shocked to find that the letter was from him. It was the letter he'd sent Beverly from the country.
Will felt a knot tighten in his stomach as he read the next letter, written in what appeared to be his own handwriting was impeccable and it had his own signature on it, but the words were undoubtedly not his. He realized with a start that someone had been masquerading as him. The more of the letters he read, the more he began to understand the situation. The letters alluded to the work that Beverly was investigating for Will and progress she'd made. It was clear that Beverly had been convinced the correspondence was with Will and that she could freely share her discoveries, and whoever was writing the letters was encouraging her to keep searching and elaborate upon what she'd found.
The letters sickened Will with the image of Beverly unknowingly sealing her fate and Will now knew his own role in it. Even if he hadn't written the letters, he'd convinced her to begin her quest in the first place. Perhaps the most frustrating of all was the vagueness of the letters. Will was sure that Beverly had been very specific but the letters she received only mentioned topics discussed in the previous letter, and so Beverly's discovery remained hidden.
Then Will found a useful clue. One letter read: If the previously mentioned Dr. Abel Gideon died under questionable circumstances and without a known heir then his scientific journals would most likely have been donated to the London Academy of Science and Medicine, especially if he was respected enough to have performed the autopsy for the king…
He quickly pulled out the next letter but found it read: I was disappointed to hear you were denied access to London Academy's Archives. I shall visit them as soon as I return…
No more letters mentioned the London Academy and only briefly Dr. Gideon. That painful knot in his stomach worsened as Will could feel Beverly growing worried of being discovered as the letters became subtly more persuasive to calm her and emphasized the need for her to continue.
Will felt like Randall Tier was pulling out his heart as he read the last letter. It was different from the others in that it read as if the other person was surprised by how far Beverly had gotten. Unlike the other letters it warned Beverly to share the information she knew with no one and to take no action until he, Will, returned to London. The strangest and most disconcerting part of the letter was the farewell which read: Nothing can remain hidden forever. It sounded excited, even victorious. But not the victory that Will would have felt at hearing of Beverly's success, but a sick victory of the unknown manipulator at Beverly's suspense.
The final distress came when Will saw the letter was signed Sir William Graham. He immediately recognized the slight change in the signature because, not only did he never sign documents Sir William Graham, but he also didn't add a flourish under his name. Worst of all, he'd seen the exact flourish before on one of the king's official documents.
He jumped when Jack put his hand on his shoulder.
"What is it?" Jack asked. Will shook his head.
"Just personal letters," he explained, putting the letters away. "Nothing useful."
Jack watched closely as Will carefully hid the letters in the back of the box. He held the lab coat.
"Are you going to donate this?" he asked. Jack's eyes softened and he answered no. Will nodded, not noticing himself slightly squeezing the fabric. "Thank you."
He placed it back into the box then snapped the wood back into place.
"What evidence did you find to convict them?" Will asked as they headed down the stairs.
"One of my guards received an anonymous tip and investigated before I was informed that it was about the Zellers," Jack explained. His eyes saddened as they passed the paintings still hanging frozen in time on the wall. "They discovered evidence of unsavory behavior in Price's bedroom and several neighbors and friends provided eyewitness accounts of their unusually close relationship."
"That's not nearly enough evidence to convict them," Will said.
"It wasn't," Jack said. The twinge of guilt in his voice worried Will. "But it was enough to bring them in for questioning. At that point, one of my men was able to pry a confession from Zeller."
"You let them be tortured?" Will asked, turning on Jack. His face was wrought with disgust.
"No murder was committed Will," Jack said. "This wasn't considered a serious violation until the confession. So I was not informed until all the evidence had been gathered and a confession had been obtained. The only reason I was even granted that is because Zeller and Price were legal employees of mine, and higher ups felt it my fault that I let homosexuals into our ranks."
Will stared at the ground, his chest rising and falling forcefully. Jack put his hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
"When I found out I did everything I could," he said, his words unyielding. "Believe me. Helping them escape was a huge risk for myself and them, and it's certainly not ideal, but it's much better than what would have happened if they'd stayed here. As it is, I've got royal officials riding me about their escape and the lax security. If there was anything else I could have done, I would have done it."
Jack finished his outburst and took a step away from Will to give him room. He didn't say anything but Will looked up and away from him.
"You're right," he said. "You were their friend too. And you're not to blame for what happened to them."
"Will, is there something else going on here?" Jack asked. His face and words sounded concerned, but Will could see an underlying vein of suspicion. He shook his head.
"Between this and the journey back into the city, I have had a rather exhausting day is all," Will lied. "Speaking of which, I'm sure the king will be having many guests for dinner. I should return to the castle now."
"Alright," Jack said. "But Will, you know you can trust me."
Will finally looked at Jack, his eyes harsh.
"I know that," he said.