The Secret of Kolney Hatch Read Online Free PDF Page A

afternoo n .—In a few days, I leave for Scotland, and I’ve decided to keep a record of my journey in this handsome brown-leather journal Eda bought for me for my birthday this past year. Bits of gold silk are woven into the binding, and the paper is of a fine quality.
    I have Richard to thank for this upcoming opportunity in Scotland, for Charlie Wicks was easily able to convince the superintendent of Kolney Hatch Lunatic Asylum, Doctor Thomas Reid, that I should be the new resident physician. I received the letter just a few days ago from the superintendent asking for verification that I would accept the position.
    I can think of nothing better at this moment than to leave this place. The energy in London is thick and heavy. News of a great strike circulates throughout the city. The murderer of the actress, Louisa Stilwell, is still at large, and a second woman has gone missing. The authorities speculate the murder and the missing woman are connected somehow.
    This discovery has everyone on edge. In addition, my nightmares have not subsided. They are always the same: a dimly-lit stone chamber, a hooded figure, a dark room. And then I come upon that lifeless, disfigured face, and I remember my mother. I can only hope that the nightmares will wane once I leave London.
     
    3 in the mornin g .—Tonight, I had just about finished packing all of my things, when I heard a frantic knocking at the front door. A heavy rain pelted against the windows, and as I hurried down the stairs, I thought perhaps Eda had returned home early from her visit with friends and had forgotten her key.
    When I opened the door, however, I was surprised to see Claire standing on my front step, drenched from the rain and looking as beautiful as ever, except for the tears running down her soft cheeks. Immediately, I thought something had happened to Richard, and I ushered her inside.
    I led Claire into the drawing room. She took a seat on the golden-upholstered sofa that rested by the front window. She trembled, and I quickly retrieved a blanket from the cupboard.
    “What’s wrong, Claire? Is it Richard?” I asked her calmly as I wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and sat down beside her.
    She did not answer right away, only stared into my eyes.
    “You shouldn’t have come here alone,” I said coolly to her, for the murderer was  still on the loose. The last thing I wanted in this world was to see something bad happen to Claire.
    “I had to see you,” was all she murmured as she looked at me through her teary eyes. The rain had matted down her auburn hair; it formed a slight curl as it began to dry.
    I did not believe Claire had traveled to my home in this dreadful weather just to see me.
    “What happened, Claire?” I asked her again calmly, bracing myself for her to tell me someone had died.
    Claire still said nothing, but she never took her eyes off me as she put the blanket to her side, stood from the couch, and removed her coat. Tonight she wore a simple silk dress—the ocean-blue color set off her eyes. I thought, perhaps she was just making herself comfortable, that was until she removed her dress.
    I stood up, my voice stern. “Claire, what are you doing?”
    She slowly unbuttoned the dress and slid it off. I turned my head away at first. After all, I was a gentleman.
    “Turn around Paul,” Claire said in a low, tremulous voice.
    I turned my head and took in the sight before me. I had longed to see the exquisite curves of Claire’s beautiful figure. All I could do was gape. For a moment, I felt uncontrollable excitement. But then my mind was in a strange state of confusion, and when the reality of what had happened finally sunk in, I felt an uncomfortable ache in my heart.
    Her bruises were already a mixture of green and blue—one was on her arm, and one was on her chest right above her left breast. Now as she stood in front of me, I saw the fear in her eyes. I saw the trembling of her body.
    “Claire, tell me what