Chapter Two part two

The Porter stopped walking through the darkness and looked up at Lasenby. This way Sir, he said holding up a lantern. A tunnel of yellow light stretched out in front if them. Lasenby thought he could see dark shapes moving beyond the light and the sound of sighing voices but he turned his steady gaze to the Porter's eyes. He searched them for signs he could distrust but all he could see was the other mans greed glinting in his small eyes.

"I trust to can be discrete." He made the threat clear in his voice. Of course silence could always be paid for. The Porter took a small step backwards, shrinking from the power of Lasenby's gaze. Then he inclined his head in agreement. All the time he rubbed his hands together.

Lasenby continued to survey the man's face. The Porter shrank back further and ran his tongue over his lips. So the man had heard things about him, Lasenby thought. Perhaps for the better.

"Why yes sir," he said finally.

Lasenby peered down at him for a moment and then gave a curt nod.

"All is well then," he smiled a tight smile. "Come now man, how can you be sure that this is the boy that I seak?"

"The dates sir, the 31st October 1888. He shivered "how can one forget. It was All Hallows eve, the night the old crone rises and then there comes a tapping at the door. I thought it was the spirits passing over that had come a knocking but..."

"Yes, yes." Lasenby scowled. "Come man, I don't need your superstitious nonsense." He glanced sideways at the man trying hard to hide the significance of the date from the Porter.

"The woman, did she give a name?"


"It took a moment sir, she was so weak like a spectre in her white gown and so frail Sir a breath of wind could have..."
"Her name" Lasenby's voice cracked. He took a deep composing breath and straightened his shoulders. The Porter's eyes sparked with a dark greed.

"You knew the lady Sir?"

Lasenby didn't like what the Porter was insinuating. He squared up his shoulders and stepped into the man's face. "Do not presume that you know anything of this business. Now did she had a name?"

"Constance," the Porter said quickly.

Lasendy's hand tightened on his cane but his face gave none of the recognition away; the fire that suddenly lit his insides, turning to cold flames.

"Good," he said stiffly. He changed the subject quickly "What did you say the boy was called?"

"Albert," the Porter said as he reached the head of some stone steps that wound down beneath the floor.