Free The Casebook of Newbury & Hobbes by George Mann Page A

which electrical light crackled like caged lightning. And in the centre of all this, prone on the top of the dais, was Lady Hambleton. Her face was lit by the flickering blue light, and it was clear that she was no longer breathing.
    “Hambleton stepped up to take a place beside her.
    “Crawford, appearing behind me from the stairway, gave a terrible shout and rushed forward, as if to make a grab for Hambleton. He stopped short, however, when Hambleton raised his hand to produce a gun from beneath the folds of his coat. He waved it at Crawford. ‘Don’t come any closer, Crawford. I don’t want you to inadvertently come to any harm. This is only for your own good.’
    “Crawford was incensed, but stayed back, putting himself between me and the gun. He caught my eye, trying to get a measure of how I planned to respond to the situation. He turned back to Hambleton, his voice firm. ‘What’s going on, man? What’s happened to Frances?’
    “Hambleton sighed and lowered his gun. He met Crawford’s eye, and spoke to his friend as if I were not there in the room with them at all. I listened to his terrible tale as he recounted it.
    “‘I knew the danger of marrying a young wife was that she may quickly grow tired of an older man, or at least weary of my company as I grew only older and more stuck in my ways. I loved Frances more than it is possible to say. I love her still.’ He glanced at his wife, serene on the contraption behind him. ‘I had miscalculated just how soon she would begin to look for companionship elsewhere, however, and had not expected after only twelve months to find her making merry with the postmaster’s son in the stables. I was enraged, and stormed out of there with fire in my belly. The boy had scarpered and I had refused to see Frances for the rest of the day. That night, however, we had a blazing row over dinner, and Frances had declared her love for the boy, claiming that I was a terrible husband who had trapped her in a drafty old house and paid her no attention. This cut me dreadfully, and I found myself seething as she fled the room.’ Hambleton offered Crawford a pleading look, as if willing him to try to understand. ‘That is when the insanity took hold of me. I knew I was losing her, and I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand the thought of another man laying his hands on her. In a fit of madness I waited until the servants were all engaged elsewhere in the house and stormed up to her room, dragged her to the cellar and activated the machine.’
    “Crawford’s voice was barely a whisper. ‘What is the machine?’
    “‘An experimental preserving device, designed to maintain the integrity of food after harvesting. It holds things in a form of stasis field, a bubble of energy that preserves them indefinitely, preventing them from decaying or altering in any way.’ He paused, as if choking on his own words.
    “‘I threw Frances into the stasis field in a fit of rage, believing that I was saving her from herself, that it was the only way to stop her from leaving me forever. Too late, when the madness and rage had passed, I realised I had not yet perfected the means to bring her out of it again. All of my experiments with fruit and vegetables had ended in disaster. The integrity of the flesh had not been able to withstand the process of being withdrawn from the preserving field. Anything organic I put in there would simply fall apart when the field was terminated. Frances was trapped. Frozen in time, unable to be woken, unable to live her life. I couldn’t bring myself to end it, and for days I’ve been searching for an answer, a means to free her from this God-forsaken prison I’ve created.’
    “Crawford edged forward, and Hambleton raised his firearm once again. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. ‘Oh no, Crawford. You don’t get to save me this time. This time I deserve my fate. Besides, it’s too late now, anyway. I killed the boy this morning; practically tore the