‘So you’ve already been me... this me, Ravencourt, I mean?’ I say.
‘And those who follow him,’ he says. ‘They’re a difficult bunch, you should enjoy Ravencourt while you can.’
‘Is that why you’re here, to warn me about my other hosts?’
The notion seems to amuse him, a smile touching his lips before drifting away with the cigarette smoke.
‘No, I’ve come because I remember sitting where you are and being told what I’m about to tell you.’
‘Which is?’
There’s an ashtray on the far side of the table and he reaches across, drawing it towards him.
‘The Plague Doctor has asked you to solve a murder, but he didn’t mention the victim. It’s Evelyn Hardcastle, that’s who’s going to die at the ball tonight,’ he says, tapping ash into the ashtray.
‘Evelyn?’ I say, struggling to sit upright, splashing a little of my forgotten drink across my leg. Panic has hold of me, a terror of my friend being hurt, a woman who went out of her way to be kind to me even as her own parents filled the house with cruelty.
‘We must warn her!’ I demand.
‘To what end?’ asks Daniel, dousing my alarm with his calm. ‘We cannot solve the murder of somebody who isn’t dead and without that answer we cannot escape.’
‘You would let her die?’ I say, shocked by his callousness.
‘I’ve lived this day eight times over and she’s died every evening regardless of my actions,’ he says, running his finger along the edge of the table. ‘Whatever happened yesterday, it will happen tomorrow and the day after. I promise you, however you may consider interfering, you’ve already tried and it’s already failed.’
‘She’s my friend, Daniel,’ I say, surprised at the depth of my feeling.
‘And mine,’ he says, leaning closer. ‘But every time I’ve tried to change today’s events, I’ve ended up becoming the architect of whatever misery I was trying to prevent. Believe me, trying to save Evelyn is a waste of time. Circumstances beyond my control brought me here and very soon, sooner than you can imagine, you’ll find yourself sitting where I am, explaining it as I have and wishing you still had the luxury of Ravencourt’s hope. The future isn’t a warning my friend, it’s a promise, and it won’t be broken by us. That’s the nature of the trap we’re caught in.’
Rising from the table, he wrestles with a window’s rusty handle and pushes it open. His eyes are fixed on some distant point, a task four days beyond my comprehension. He has no interest in me, my fears or hopes. I’m just part of some old story he’s tired of telling.
‘It makes no sense,’ I say, hoping to remind him of Evelyn’s qualities, the reasons she’s worth saving. ‘Evelyn’s kind and gentle, and she’s been away for nineteen years, who’d want to harm her now?’
Even as I say it, a suspicion begins to dawn on me. In the forest yesterday, Evelyn mentioned that her parents had never forgiven her for letting Thomas wander off alone. She blamed herself for his murder at Carver’s hands, and, worst of all, so did they. Their ire was so great, she believed they were plotting some terrible surprise at the ball. Could this be it? Could they really hate their own daughter enough to murder her? If so, my meeting with Helena Hardcastle could prove fortuitous indeed.
‘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.’