The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle

‘I don’t know,’ says Daniel, a note of irritation in his voice. ‘There are so many secrets in this house, it can be difficult to pick the right one from the pile. If you heed my advice though, you’ll start looking for Anna immediately. Eight hosts may sound a great deal, but this task needs double that number. You’re going to need all the help you can get.’

‘Anna,’ I exclaim, remembering the woman in the carriage with the butler. ‘I thought she was an acquaintance of Bell’s?’

He takes a long drag on his cigarette, considering me through narrowed eyes. I can see him sifting through the future, working out how much to tell me.

‘She’s trapped here like us,’ he says eventually. ‘She’s a friend, as much as somebody can be in our situation. You should find her quickly, before the footman does. He’s hunting us both.’

‘He left a dead rabbit in my room – Bell’s room, I mean – last night.’

‘That’s only the beginning,’ he says. ‘He means to kill us, though not before he’s had his fun.’

My blood runs cold, my stomach nauseous. I’d suspected as much, but to hear the fact laid out so baldly is something else entirely. Closing my eyes, I let a long breath out through my nose, releasing my fear with it. It’s a habit of Ravencourt’s, a way of clearing the mind, though I couldn’t say how I know that.

When I open my eyes again, I’m calm.

‘Who is he?’ I ask, impressed by the strength in my voice.

‘I’ve no idea,’ he says, blowing smoke into the wind. ‘I’d call him the devil if I thought this place anything so mundane as hell. He’s picking us off one by one, making sure there’s no competition when he delivers his answer to the Plague Doctor tonight.’

‘Does he have other bodies, other hosts, like us?’

‘That’s the curious thing,’ he says. ‘I don’t believe he does, but he doesn’t seem to need them. He knows the faces of every one of our hosts, and he strikes when we’re at our weakest. Every mistake I’ve made, he’s been waiting.’

‘How do we stop a man who knows our every step before we do?’

‘If I knew that, there’d be no need of this conversation,’ he says irritably. ‘Be careful. He haunts this house like a bloody ghost, and if he catches you alone... well, don’t let him catch you alone.’

Daniel’s tone is dark, his expression brooding. Whoever this footman is, he has taken hold of my future self in a way that’s more unsettling than all the warnings I’ve heard. It’s not hard to understand why. The Plague Doctor gave me eight days to solve Evelyn’s murder and eight hosts to do it. Because Sebastian Bell slept past midnight, he’s now lost to me.

That leaves seven days and seven hosts.

My second and third hosts were the butler and Donald Davies. The woman in the carriage didn’t mention Davies, which seems a curious omission, but I’m assuming the same rules apply to him as the butler. They both have plenty of hours left until midnight, but one of them is severely injured and the other asleep on a road, miles from Blackheath. They’re practically useless. So much for days two and three.

I’m already on my fourth day, and Ravencourt is proving a burden rather than a boon. I don’t know what to expect from my remaining four hosts – though Daniel seems capable enough – but it feels as though the Plague Doctor is stacking the deck against me. If the footman truly knows my every weakness, then God help me because there are plenty to exploit. ‘Tell me everything you’ve already learned about Evelyn’s death,’ I say. ‘If we work together we can solve it before the footman has a chance to harm us.’

‘The only thing I can tell you is that she dies promptly at 11 p.m. every single night.’

‘Surely, you must know more than that?’

‘A great deal more, but I can’t risk sharing the information,’ he says, glancing at me. ‘All my plans are built around things you’re going to do. If I tell you something that stops you doing those things, I can’t be certain they’ll play out the same way. You might blunder into the middle of an event settled in my favour, or be elsewhere when you should have been distracting the fellow whose room I’m sneaking into. One wrong word could leave all my plans in ruins. This day must proceed as it always does, for your sake as much as mine.’ He rubs his forehead, all of his weariness seeming to pour out of the gesture. ‘I’m sorry, Ravencourt, the safest course is for you to go about your investigation without interference from me or any of the others.’

‘Very well,’ I say, hoping to keep my disappointment from him. It’s a foolish notion, of course. He’s me. He remembers this disappointment for himself. ‘But the fact you’re counselling me to solve this murder suggests you trust the Plague Doctor,’ I say. ‘Have you uncovered his identity?’

‘Not yet,’ he says. ‘And trust is too strong a word. He has his own purpose in this house, I’m certain of it, but for the moment, I can’t see any other course beyond doing as he demands.’

‘And has he told you why this is happening to us?’ I ask.