Resurrection Row Read Online Free PDF Page A

there was no need any longer. Augustus was dead.
    With a lurch she remembered his body in the pew, and on the slab in that bitter mortuary with the little man in the white coat who was so terrifyingly happy all the time in his room full of corpses. Thank goodness the policeman at least had been a little more sober; in fact, quite pleasant, in his way.
    As if she had conjured him out of her thoughts the door swung open, and Pitt appeared in front of her, shaking himself like a great wet dog and spraying water from his coattails and off his sleeves. She had not thought of the police coming, and now all sorts of ugly fears crowded into her mind. Why? Why had Augustus risen out of his grave again like some persistent, obscene reminder of the past, preventing her from stepping out of it into the future? The future could hold so much promise; she had met new people, especially one new person, slim, elegant, with all the laughter and charm Augustus had lost. Perhaps he had been like that in his youth, but she had not known him then. She wanted to dance, to make jokes of trivial things, to sing something round the spinet other than hymns and solemn ballads. She wanted to be in love and say giddy and uproarious things, have a past worth remembering, like the old lady who sat rereading her youth from a hundred letters. No doubt there was sadness in them, but there was passion, too, if there was any truth in her retelling.
    The policeman was staring at her with bright gray eyes. He was the untidiest creature she had ever seen, not fit to be in a church.
    “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I thought we’d seen the end of it.”
    She could think of no answer.
    “Do you know of anyone who might be doing this, ma’am?” he went on.
    She looked up at his face, and a whole abyss of new horror opened up in front of her. She had presumed it was an anonymous crime, the work of insane vandals of some sort. She had heard of grave robbing, body snatchers; but now she realized that this extraordinary man thought that it might be personal, deliberately directed at Augustus—or even at her!
    “No!” She gulped, and the breath caught in her throat. She swallowed hard. “No, of course not.” But she could feel the heat burning up her face. What would other people think? Twice Augustus had been uncovered out of his grave, almost as if someone were unwilling to let him rest—or, more pointedly, unwilling to let her forget him.
    Who would do such a thing? The only one she knew was the old lady. She would certainly be annoyed if she thought Alicia could marry again, and so soon, this time for love!
    “I have no idea,” she said as calmly as she could. “If Augustus had any enemies, he never spoke of them; and I find it hard to imagine that anyone he was acquainted with, whatever their feelings, would do such a thing as this.”
    “Yes.” Pitt nodded. “It is beyond ordinary vengeance, even to us. It’s wretchedly cold in here; you’d better go home and warm yourself, take some food. There’s nothing you can do now. We’ll take care of it, see he’s handled decently. I think your vicar’s already ordered the proper observations.” He walked toward the door, then turned. “I suppose you are quite sure it was your husband, ma’am? You did see his face quite clearly—it wasn’t someone else, perhaps?”
    Alicia shook her head. She could see the corpse with its gray-white skin in front of her sharply, more real than the cold walls of the vestry.
    “It was Augustus, Mr. Pitt. There is no doubt of that at all.”
    “Thank you, ma’am. I’m extremely sorry.” He went out and closed the door behind him.
    Outside, Pitt stopped for a moment to glance at the remnants of the congregation, all affecting attitudes of sympathy, or else pretending to be there by chance and about to move; then he strode down the path and out into the street. The business had shaken him far more than the relative seriousness of the crime warranted. Far worse