Lockwood & Co.: The Screaming Staircase

colleagues. In my case, it’s led me to a lifetime of regret.’ He sighed. ‘Well, your proofs are good, and your intuition better. That last reference is indeed to Hamlet , in which Annie and I acted long ago. It’s how we met. I was Prince Hamlet, and she played Ophelia, his betrothed. The locket refers specifically to Act II, Scene 2, lines 115 to 118, which run:
    ‘Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love.’
    The old man paused; he stared into the dark. ‘That’s Hamlet to Ophelia,’ he said at last. ‘He’s saying that his love for her is utterly certain, more certain than anything else in the universe. Of course, in the play she drowns herself, and he’s poisoned, but the principle holds true. It’s all about the passion between them . . . And passion is what Annie and I shared.’
    ‘Didn’t stop you killing her,’ I said. It was the first time I’d spoken.
    Fairfax glanced towards me, black eyes dull like stones. ‘You’re still a child, Miss Carlyle. You know nothing of such things.’
    ‘Wrong.’ I let my full scorn show. ‘I know exactly what Annie Ward experienced. When I touched the locket, I felt it all.’
    ‘How nice for you,’ Fairfax said. ‘You know, I’ve always thought that your kind of Talent must be far more trouble than it’s worth. Feeling another person’s death pain? I can’t say that’s ever appealed to me.’
    ‘It’s not just her death that I understand,’ I said quietly. ‘I felt all the emotions that she experienced while she wore the necklace. I know everything she went through with you.’ And the memories had hardly faded, either. I could still taste the girl’s hysteria, her wild jealousies, her grief and anger; and, finally, right at the end—
    ‘What a ridiculous skill you have,’ Fairfax said. ‘How terribly pointless and distracting. Still, you’ll know then what a dark and difficult person Annie Ward was. She had a volatile personality and a poisonous temper, but she was beautiful all the same. We both acted in a number of amateur productions, and this gave us the excuse to be together, for our relationship had to remain secret. Annie was not of the correct social standing, you see – her father was a tailor, or something of that kind – and my parents would have cut off my inheritance if they’d known about her. Well, finally Anniedemanded we go public. I refused, of course – the idea was impossible – so she left me.’ His lips drew back, teeth glinted. ‘For a time she went around with Hugo Blake: a fop, a worthless dandy. He was no good, and she knew it. Before long she was back with me.’
    He shook his head; his voice grew louder. ‘I’m sorry to say that Annie was wayward. She socialized with people of whom I did not approve, including Blake, though I had forbidden her to see him. We often argued; our arguments grew worse. One night I came to her house in secret and let myself in. She was not there. I waited for her. Imagine my rage when I saw her being dropped outside the door by none other than the vile Hugo Blake himself. As soon as she entered, I confronted her. We had a fearsome row, at the end of which I lost control. I struck her. She fell lifeless to the floor. I had broken her neck with a single blow.’
    I shuddered. Right at the end: the final pain and terror. Yes, I’d felt that too.
    ‘Put yourself in my shoes, Mr Lockwood,’ Fairfax went on. ‘Here was I, the heir to one of the largest industrial fortunes in England, kneeling by the body of the girl I’d killed. What could I do? If I called the police, I faced ruin – imprisonment, certainly, and perhaps the rope. Two lives would have been destroyed because of a moment’s madness! If, on the other hand, I left her lying there, there was still no guarantee I would escape. Perhaps someone had seen meenter the house? I couldn’t be sure. So I resolved upon a third solution. I would hide the body and conceal the crime. It took me almost twenty-four hours, Mr Lockwood, to create my dear Annie’s impromptu tomb, twenty-four hours that have stayed with me for fifty years. I had to locate a hiding place, knock through the wall, bring materials into the house to conceal that hole – and do all this unseen. Every moment I feared discovery, every moment I had to labour with the body there beside me . . .’ The old man closed his eyes; he took a ragged breath. ‘Well, I got it done, and I