Echoes in the Darkness by Jane Godman

course, speak to my son,” Tynan said, forestalling any further questions from Lucy.
    Cad entered the room, filling it as always with his presence. His eyes travelled briefly across my face, scorching the air between us slightly before he turned to shake hands with the two police officers.
    “Good Lord, was that the girl who was killed?” he asked, when the inspector had outlined why he was there. “She was little more than a child.”
    “But you weren’t here when she disappeared.” Lucy persisted.
    “Yes I was, Mama,” Cad reminded her with unruffled calm. “I came down for one night, if you remember, to settle that nonsensical mill issue and get my father’s signature on the papers.” He turned back to Inspector Miller. “I travelled down by train but I wasn’t expected, so there was no one to meet me. I was lucky because, when I stepped out of the station intending to hire a vehicle to fetch me here, Tom Carter was delivering barrels to the pub over the road. He gave me a lift as far as the village and I walked the rest of the way. The girl—Amy, did you say?—was walking ahead of me along the path. She was struggling because the ribbons on her bonnet had come untied and she was trying to hold it on with one hand. But she was also carrying a basket almost as big as herself. I caught up to her and held the basket while she tried to repair her bonnet. It was a bit of a lost cause because one of the ribbons had come loose. She said it didn’t really matter, she was on her way to visit a relative—her grandmother, I think—so she would pin it there. I gave her back her basket and we went our separate ways.”
    Inspector Miller nodded. “That fits with the description out witnesses gave. They said Mr Jago here was carrying a portmanteau. And, of course, Amy Winton’s basket and bonnet were found on the cliff path. Did you see the girl talking to anyone else, sir?”
    Cad shook his head. “No. Was she really killed the same day?”
    “We think so, sir. Although her body was in such a badly decomposed state it hasn’t been possible to say for sure.”
    “Well, I can vouch for the fact that my son did not arrive here in a bloodstained or dishevelled state that day, Inspector,” Lucy said. “Unless, if my word is not sufficient, you would like to check with the servants to verify that?”
    “Inspector Miller is simply doing his job,
hweg,
” Tynan told her gently. “Let us not forget that a young girl has been killed in the foulest manner imaginable.”
    Lucy inclined her head toward the inspector in acknowledgment of this, and he rose to take his leave. “If you do recall anything further, sir,” he said to Cad, “please let me know.”
    “Poor child,” Cad said, shaking his head. “She looked so young and quite helpless. Her bonnet malfunction meant that all the mass of her pretty hair was blowing about her face. I hope you catch the bas—I mean the villain—who did it, Inspector.”
    “That is certainly my intention, sir.”

Chapter Seven
    She is the one he craves. He follows her through the narrow alleyways. It is daylight and he is courting discovery, but he is powerless to resist. He moves swiftly, catching her arm and drawing her to him, reaching for her neck and her hair, exulting in the quiver that runs through her. She would call it fear, but he knows better. With a swift movement, he slides the tip of his tongue upward to trace the length of her white throat.
    “Please, sir,” she whispers, tears of terror choking her words. “Please don’t. I’ve never—” His blade silences her.
    Gently, he guides her lifeless form down onto the cobbles. Her throat gapes wide now in a mocking red grin. It is only as he lifts her skirts and prepares to go about his business, that he realises she wears the garb of a lady’s maid. There is a heartbeat’s pause. Hollow nausea settles deep in his gut.
    “They are all whores.” The words leave his lips, but the voice belongs to his master.