Death of a Stranger - Anne Perry [159]
Then at last the brakeman understood. He had felt the brakes tear out and knew how useless it was to hurl his weight or strength against them anymore. He picked up the other shovel and worked beside Monk.
They were going faster, ever faster. The sound was deafening, like a solid thing against the head; the heat seared the skin, burned the eyelashes; and still they threw the coal on, until the stoker grabbed Monk by the arm and pulled him back. He shook his head. He held his arms across his chest, then flung them wide.
Monk understood. Any more and the boiler would explode. There was nothing to do now but wait, and perhaps pray. They were going as fast as any engine on earth could take them. Sparks were flying in the air, steam like clouds tore from the stack and shredded in the wind. The wheels on the track were one continuous roar.
The viaduct was in sight, and the next moment they were on it.
Monk looked at Baltimore and saw the terror in his face, and a kind of jubilation. There was nothing now but to wait. Either they would make the end of the single track in time, or there would be a crash that would explode and send the wreckage a thousand yards in every direction until there was nothing human left to find on the rocks below.
The breath was torn from their lips; the wind burned and stung with ash, smuts, red sparks like hornets. Their clothes were torn and singed.
The noise was like an avalanche falling.
But Monk had been right: Dundas was innocent, the brakes were as he had said. He had paid a terrible price for it, but knowing it, willing it, to save a young man he had loved profoundly, selflessly, and without limit—love greater than Katrina’s hate, to be held in the heart forever.
And now his name would be vindicated!
There was a darkness, an even greater noise, and something rushed by them so quickly it was gone before Monk even realized they were on double tracks again. It had been the train in the other direction. They were safe.
Around them, the other men let off a cheer, but he could hear nothing of it, only see in the furnace light their upraised arms and the triumph in their blackened faces. The driver staggered back against the wall, the controls barely in his grasp. The stoker and the brakeman clasped each other.
Jarvis Baltimore held out his hand and Monk took it.
“Thank you!” Baltimore mouthed. “Thank you, Monk! For the past, and the present!”
Monk found himself grinning idiotically, and could think of nothing at all to say. Anyway he could not have spoken; his voice was choked with tears.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Among Anne Perry’s other novels featuring investigator William Monk are Funeral in Blue, Slaves of Obsession, The Twisted Root, and A Breach of Promise. She also writes the popular novels featuring Thomas and Charlotte Pitt, including The Whitechapel Conspiracy, Half Moon Street, Bedford Square, and Brunswick Gardens. Her short story “Heroes” won an Edgar Award. Anne Perry lives in Scotland. Visit her Web site at www.anneperry.net.
By Anne Perry
Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group
Featuring William Monk
The Face of a Stranger
A Dangerous Mourning
Defend and Betray
A Sudden, Fearful Death
The Sins of the Wolf
Cain His Brother
Weighed in the Balance
The Silent Cry
A Breach of Promise
The Twisted Root
Slaves of Obsession
Funeral in Blue
Death of a Stranger
Featuring Thomas and Charlotte Pitt
The Cater Street Hangman
Callander Square
Paragon Walk
Resurrection Row
Bluegate Fields
Rutland Place
Death in the Devil’s Acre
Cardington Crescent
Silence in Hanover Close
Bethlehem Road
Highgate Rise
Belgrave Square
Farriers’ Lane
The Hyde Park Headsman
Traitors Gate
Pentecost Alley
Ashworth Hall
Brunswick Gardens
Bedford Square
Half Moon Street
The Whitechapel Conspiracy
Southampton Row
A Ballantine Book
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