Winters' Tales

What Happened At The Little Victoria House.

-TWO MONTHS AFTER THE RETURN OF ALIANNA WINTER-

I was reading.

"Hello?" William called into the gloom. "Sedgefield, are you in there?"

Again.

There was an elongated pause, as William peered further into the murky depths before him. Tentatively, he took a couple of steps forward, his shoes splashing softly in the grungy puddles at his feet. As if entranced by the enveloping darkness, William slowly began to walk further and further into-

The rest of the sentence was obscured as Isabel dropped a letter on my lap.

"Mail" she shrugged, as I glared accusingly at her. Putting my book to one side, I studied the envelope curiously. There wasn't anything to be told by it, as it was plain white, probably bought from a post office, and the pen and the hand were both quite bogstandard, but the latter was an interesting cursive I didn't think I recognised.

I opened the letter.

My eyebrow shot up as I read the message inside.

ARE you BORED YET, Alianna WINTER?

Each word seemed taken from a different newspaper, and there was no name attached to the note. I frowned. My guard had been raised, but this was very interesting.

I realized that the 'Alianna' and the 'WINTER' must have been taken from two newspapers which had covered the Thames Bridge incident, as there was no way anyone other than my sister Isabel would have saved any earlier reports of my cases. The other four words, however, I knew could be from anywhere.

So I reckoned I had better get down to work.

Putting my book to one side, I pounced on the newspaper Isabel had bought that morning. After flicking through, I couldn't find anything to match the words I had in front of me.

"Damn" I murmured. I was going to have to go out.

"Izzy?" I then shouted, getting up from the lounge, where I had been sitting, and making my way into the hall.

"What?" my sister's muffled voice came floating down from upstairs.

"I'm going out!"

"Where?" Isabel demanded, coming at once to the top of the stairs.

"Haven't the faintest" I replied nonchalantly, as she glared at me, her eye not falling on the mysterious letter in my hand, thank goodness.

"Come back safe" my sister sighed heavily, not seemingly willing to put up much of a fight.

I smirked rather cockily at her.

"I always do. Give me two hours before you call."

She nodded her head sadly as I slipped out of the door.

***

I was on my way to the Post Office, at the end of the street. I knew they sold newspapers, but I wasn't sure if they'd have the one I'd need.

But before I reached my destination, I passed a young street-seller boy, selling the Sunday Times. On instinct, I stopped.