CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Polidori pushed open the door of 38 Great Pulteney Street, his heart lighter after his whispered, tear-filled confidence with his one true friend over supper. He felt relief he had been understood. Not admonished. Not pitied. Just accepted. Loved.
He should have gone to bed, after two days without sleep. Instead he handed his frock coat to his man and went down to the basement. The lanterns were already lit, the smell of oil not so heavy as that of his guests. He pulled the sheets, exposing the full length of deathly white flesh to the insipid glow of the overhead lamps. The twins lay n***d on the slab, their shoulders touching, their hands one upon the other in a loose familial hold.
He was certain he could determine how long Master James’s twin had been dead, and h
