Forgive Me

Poisoned

Life has never been normal, of course, but now it never will be. A deadline has been set and the body count will climb. Dear God, forgive me.

-2/25/1920

The room was trembling beneath my eyelids and the sound in my ears blaring like a horn. The voices around me collapsed in and out, like the complex was breathing, and everything warbled together into a mixture of inaudible tones. It sunk through my heart and stained it the color of suffering, seeping a drop of pain through my scalp.

Everything hurt, like I was dying over and over and over again.

"We have children here, Mr. Holly," said a woman's voice, clean cut like a razor blade to the throat. "I'd appreciate it if you put the flask down."

"Or what?" came the slurred voice of another, blended like chunky powder. "You'll kick me out?"

"I don't care who you are, you have to respect this business if you wish to look after Missy."

A slurping sound, like someone was taking a sip from a paint can.

"Put it away, Holly," said another, closer to my ear. "You are disrespecting Ms. Pendant."

"To hell with it. You can't even tell what's wrong with her."

"Detective, please," yet another voice stuttered, chipped like a rat's front tooth.

"What'd I say, Marcus?" he barked. "Speak when you are spoken to!"

That shut him up.

"She's been unconscious for four days and only now you think you know what happened to her?"

"I don't think, i***t, I know."

"Well, get a move on then. June's been in a bad fever since Missy went down."

"Mama," a new voice whispered, weak and fragile like the petals of a rose. Only now did I realize someone small was clinging to my neck and lying on my chest, their heart beating slower than I could pick up.

"Poison. Specifically arsenic."

There were a few scoffing noises and a stamp of the foot.

"What kind of detective are you? She'd be dead by now if it was arsenic!"

"Would you think I was any crazier if I said she's been fed it for about two weeks now?"

More scoffing, then someone walked away in a hurry.

"I admire you, Mr. Holly. Really, I do. But you can't be serious."

"Small portions, Detective." He said this last word like he was trying to scrape it off the roof of his mouth. "Less than a teaspoon every day, enough for her not to notice any signs until now."

"How do you know?"

"Smell her breath. Take that in. What do you smell?"

I felt air being sucked in above my open mouth and fought to close it. My limbs still wouldn't move an inch.

"Garlic."

"Exactly."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Her fingernails."

"Gorgeous, yes."

"No, you imbecile, there are white lines along them. Mee's lines, to be exact. You see them with a number of deaths by poison, especially arsenic. They're faint but enough."

It was silent for a moment and the body across me shifted into my open arms.

"Alright," the smooth voice said, defeated. "Why would anyone want to poison her? Assuming this was not self-harm."

"See, those are the questions you should be asking yourself, McKinley. Why would anyone poison her? And how long does she have left?"

"Hatred? She is Italian, after all."

"Perhaps. Or perhaps not."

"What else could it possibly be?"

"Well, you're the detective! You figure it out!"

"I mean no harm towards you, Mr. Holly. I cannot understand why you mean to slay me like this. You were let go for the time being because of how unstable you have become."

"And yet, I can solve a mystery in four minutes better than you could in four days."

"If you are so sure of yourself, why don't you talk to Gregory about it, huh? Tell him how cocky you are!"

He sounded like he might swear until the voice of the woman interrupted.

"Why the hell did you bring her here if you were just going to fight all day long?" she snapped. "If the hospital won't take her just because she's an alien, then you should have just brought her to the police station! I don't want two bickering men in my house! You'll surely wake her and the child!"

They were silent, but I could almost feel them fidgeting.

"You lot are worried about the 'why's and the 'who's but you never considered how you would save her. She's a dead woman walking unless you do something about it!"

"Ma'am, she still has another month or two before the poison becomes fatal. Right now, it seems her passing out was caused by stress combined with the effects of the arsenic. She should be up and running within hours."

"Then why hasn't she gotten up yet, huh? Why has she slept for four days?"

"Because," I felt an arm gently slide underneath my head and lift it, "she's chosen to."

No longer could I keep myself hidden, despite how nice the sheets felt underneath me, and my eyes flickered open.

I was in 203, home, with June's body spread across me and the four faces of Abigail, McKinley, David, and Marcus staring at me from above. The sounds of several tiny footsteps rang around my head, no doubt from the children, and an unearthly mixture of soup and alcohol burned my nostrils. June's cheeks were ill pink, like raw pork, and her gray eyes closed and twitching, like nightmares were stretched tight around her skull. She felt warm-- too warm-- and her skin so nice against my aching body. David looked no different than he had four days ago: his figure was sickly pale and burned with a now respectable beard. He was less drunk than before, however, but still spewed foul rum stench from his cracking lips.

"Poison?" I said softly, the words stinging my throat.

"My God," Abigail murmured, choosing to walk away once more and tend to her children rather than take another look at me.

"Yes," whispered David. In that moment, for less than a second, the alcohol on his tongue seemed to vanish and a relieved smile replaced it. He took my hands and brought them to his forehead, as if to say 'I'm so glad you're awake, Missy'. I couldn't help but blush.

"What do I do?" said I, regaining my voice but afraid to sit up, lest I wake my daughter. "The hospital won't take me?"

"We'll monitor your apartment," McKinley sniffed, not meeting my gaze. "Whoever is slipping arsenic into you will be caught and punished."

"No," David argued. "It isn't going to be anyone coming directly inside and placing powder into her food, it's going to something a lot harder to catch. Maybe her drinking water has been poisoned or her rice. We don't know. I propose she take residence elsewhere, until we find where the poison is entering her system and put an end to it."

"And where do you suggest she stay, Mr. Holly."

He smirked, like it was obvious. "Why, with me, of course."

Blood rushed to my cheeks and I was quick to cover it with a hand. McKinley was even quicker to disagree. "This is a matter for the police to solve, not you. If this woman is in any danger, we do not want to put her in the hands of someone who's a danger to even themselves."

"If Missy does not want the help of the police, then it is up to her to decide what she wants to do."

McKinley folded his arms across his chest and tapped an annoyed foot on the floor, turning to me. "Fine, Holly. Have it your way. Ms. Begum, your life is in immediate danger and though we may not know the details, it would be safer to let the police handle this."

"Or it would be safer to stay with a man who is both trained in combat and has one of the most secure apartments in Boston," David cut in. "The police already have enough on their hands with Becky's murder, unless they're read to just put that aside for anything." He turned to glare at McKinley who stayed as stone-faced as ever. "You would be safe in the hands of a real detective until this is solved. Your choice."

I had no words so I simply sat there, blank and overwhelmed. There was no doubt in my mind who was poisoning me, that was for sure, but the shock still slithered down my throat. I had heard of arsenic; it was used graciously for quick assassination and could not be traced, as far as I knew. The poison of choice. I had failed my mission, I had not killed David Holly as I had been told and this was my punishment. But why go through the trouble of feeding me deadly poison in small doses? Why not kill me right away?

And that's when I realized, with a shock of ice splitting the hair on the back of my neck: they were giving me a time limit.

I had one month to right the wrongs.

I still had time.

Once upon a week ago, I told myself there would be no more deaths because of me. June would grow knowing her mother as an innocent, fierce woman who would protect her against all evils of the world with her life. I never wanted her to discover the blood on my hands. And, back then, it wasn't a lie; I truly believed I could make it in Boston without destroying another life.

But now, the truth came to me. I could not get another job. I could not earn a living.

Detective Holly would have to die.

I made my choice.

"David," I murmured, weak with fear, "would June be able to join me? My daughter can't be left alone. She needs her Mama."

His face broke into a triumphant grin and he nodded. "Of course."

"Then," I stared from face to face, feeling the blood soak in my palms, "I will join you."