The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle

He’s looking at his gloved hand, startled by his own loss of control.

‘Only you can make me this angry,’ he says in a quieter voice. ‘It’s always been the same. Loop after loop, host after host. I’ve seen you betray friends, make alliances and die on principle. I’ve seen so many versions of Aiden Bishop, you’d probably never recognise yourself in them, but the one thing that’s never changed is your stubbornness. You pick a path, and you walk down it until the end, no matter how many holes you fall down along the way. It would be impressive if it weren’t so intensely irritating.’

‘Irritating or not, I have to know why Silver Tear went to such lengths to try to kill Anna.’

He offers me a long, appraising look, and then sighs.

‘Do you know how you can tell if a monster’s fit to walk the world again, Mr Bishop?’ he says contemplatively. ‘If they’re truly redeemed and not just telling you what you want to hear?’ He takes another slug from the hip flask. ‘You give them a day without consequences, and you watch to see what they do with it.’

My skin prickles, my blood running cold.

‘This was all a test?’ I say slowly.

‘We prefer to call it rehabilitation.’

‘Rehabilitation...’ I repeat, understanding rising within me like the sun over the house. ‘This is a prison?’

‘Yes, except instead of leaving our prisoners to rot in a cell, we give them a chance to prove themselves worthy of release every single day. Do you see the beauty of it?’ The murder of Evelyn Hardcastle was never solved, and probably never would have been. By locking prisoners inside the murder, we give them a chance to atone for their own crimes by solving somebody else’s. It’s as much a service, as a punishment.’

‘Are there other places like this?’ I say, trying to wrap my head around it.

‘Thousands,’ he says. ‘I’ve seen a village that wakes up each morning with three headless bodies in the square, and a series of murders on an ocean liner. There must be fifteen prisoners attempting to solve that one.’

‘Which makes you, what? A warden?’

‘An assessor. I decide if you’re worthy of release.’

‘But you said I chose to come to Blackheath. Why would I choose to come to a prison?’

‘You came for Anna, but you got trapped, and loop after loop Blackheath picked you apart until you forgot yourself, as it was designed to.’ His voice is tight with anger, his gloved hands clenched. ‘My superiors should never have let you inside, it was wrong. For the longest time, I thought the innocent man who’d entered here was lost, sacrificed in some futile gesture, but you’ve found your way back. That’s why I’ve been helping you. I gave you control of different hosts, searching for those who were best equipped to solve her murder, finally settling on the eight of today. I experimented with their order to ensure you got the best out of them. I even arranged to have Mr Rashton hidden in that cupboard to keep him alive. I’m bending every rule possible so that you can finally escape. Do you see now? You must leave while you’re still the person you wish to be.’

‘And Anna...?’ I say haltingly, hating the question I’m about to ask.

I’ve never allowed myself to believe that Anna belonged here, preferring to think of this place as the equivalent of being shipwrecked, or struck by lightning. By assuming her to be a victim, I took away the niggling doubt of whether this was deserved, but without that comfort, my fear is growing.

‘What did Anna do to deserve Blackheath?’ I ask.

He shakes his head, passing me the flask. ‘That’s not for me to say. Just know that the weight of the punishment is equal to the crime. The prisoners I told you about in the village and on the boat received lighter sentences than either Anna or Daniel. Those places are much less harrowing than here. Blackheath was built to break devils, not petty thieves.’

‘You’re saying Anna’s a devil?’

‘I’m saying thousands of crimes are committed every day, but only two people have been sent to this place.’ His voice is rising, racked with emotion. ‘Anna’s one of them, and yet you risked your life to help her escape. It’s madness.’

‘Any woman who can inspire that loyalty has to be worth something.’

‘You’re not hearing me,’ he says, his fists balled.

‘I’m hearing you, but I won’t leave her here,’ I say. ‘Even if you make me go today, I’ll find my way back in tomorrow. I did it once, I’ll do it again.’

‘Stop being such a bloody fool!’ He thumps the doorframe hard enough to bring dust down on our heads. ‘It wasn’t loyalty that brought you to Blackheath, it was vengeance. You didn’t come here to rescue Anna, you came for your pound of flesh. She’s safe in Blackheath. Caged, but safe. You didn’t want her to be caged, you wanted her to suffer – so many people out there wanted her to suffer, but none of them was willing to do what you were, because nobody hated this woman as much as you did. You followed her into Blackheath and for thirty years you dedicated yourself to torturing her, as the footman tortures you today.’

Silence presses down on us.

I open my mouth to respond, but my stomach’s in my shoes, my head spinning. The world has upended itself, and even though I’m sitting on the floor, I can feel myself falling and falling.

‘What did she do?’ I whisper.

‘My superiors—’

‘Opened Blackheath’s doors to an innocent man intent on murder,’ I say. ‘They’re as guilty as anybody in here. Now tell me what she did.’

‘I can’t,’ he says weakly, his resistance all but spent.

‘You’ve helped me this far.’

‘Yes, because what happened to you is wrong,’ he says, taking a long swig from the flask, his Adam’s apple bouncing up and down in his throat. ‘Nobody objected to my helping you escape because you weren’t supposed to be here anyway, but if I start telling you things you shouldn’t know, there’ll be repercussions. For both of us.’