Free The Night Calls by David Pirie

And then she saw me.
    I do not know whether she was embarrassed, but she did not show it as she approached me.
    ‘Latimer has thrown you out of his class?’ I asked.
    ‘He refuses to teach us dissection for fear we might see something improper.’ Her tone was scornful but I could hear the emotion in her voice. ‘His facial expression perhaps?’
    I smiled at her joke. ‘Blue and deoxygenated, I recall. The man is a pompous clown.’
    I expected more banter but to my surprise her face became suddenly quite serious. She paused, as if making up her mind, and then took something from her sleeve. ‘One of many,’ she said. ‘I had this delivered to my lodgings yesterday.’
    It was a letter and she handed it to me. The first thing that struck me was the writing which was large and somewhat strange. The letters were huge and scribbled like a child scrawling insults on a blackboard.
    ‘And upon her forehead was a name written: the MOTHER of harlots and ABOMINATION of the earth,’ I read. The words ‘mother’ and ‘abomination’ were fiercely and madly inked over scores of times. ‘Therefore shall her plagues come in one day for she has drunk of the blood of the lamb.’
    I knew my Bible well enough to recognise the phrases from the Book of Revelation, but they were all jumbled. ‘You are dealing with illiterates!’ I said, handing it back to her. ‘This is not even a real quotation. Was there no signature?’
    She shook her head. ‘But last night I thought someone was following me.’
    ‘Well, it must be Crawford. I saw him threaten you and he used much this kind of language. You must take it to the authorities.’
    She started tearing up the letter. ‘No,’ she said fiercely. ‘I am quite aware what would happen. This would just become another excuse to be rid of us. As it is, the author of this rubbish will be crowing to see me banned from the demonstration room. But tell me, you are a clerk, Mr Doyle. Does that mean you have access to Latimer’s dissection?’
    ‘Of course,’ I said eagerly, seizing on this as a way to extend our acquaintance. ‘And it is free at the end of the day.’ Then I stopped for I saw the impossibility of the thing. ‘But it is no use, for the night-clerk is on duty and would never admit a woman.’
    She smiled then, that wonderful, mischievous smile. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But perhaps there is a way if you would help me?’
    She was reluctant to elaborate and we agreed a time to meet on the following evening. Then I moved off quickly, aware to my alarm that I was now late for preparing Bell’s lecture.
    The Doctor was waiting for me in his room, watch in hand, and he did not look at all pleased. ‘Thank you for condescending to appear twelve minutes and fifteen seconds after the agreed hour,’ he said, putting away his watch. ‘Half a minute later and I fear this room would have been empty and your clerkship would have been at an end, for lateness is of no use to me. I have already cancelled the lecture.’
    I was dumbfounded and started to apologise, saying I could surely get the hall ready within a few minutes, but he brushed me aside, picking up his cane. ‘Doyle, it is cancelled because we are required at once. Fortunately for you the call from Summers only came ten minutes ago and I had arrangements to make so you have only lost me two minutes. But, in a matter like this, two minutes may be critical. Our mystery man has shown himself again.’
    I was still amazed by this development, as we strode out of there and a porter told us breathlessly where the cab was waiting. Soon we were moving rapidly through the streets and, within a few moments, we had turned down a thoroughfare I knew well enough, for it was the place where Samuel had played. Almost at once the cab stopped at a large building with tall windows. In the morning sunlight, with people bustling past, it looked so ordinary that I did not at first recognise it. But, as I stepped down from the cab and saw the