"Careful of your step," Jacob said to me.
Slowly, the bedcovers lowered to reveal the disheveled head of Blunt. "Thank God you're here," he said. "Tell it to stop. I haven't gone to the girls dormitory, I haven't! Not since that first haunting. Tell it, tell it!"
"The spirit knows," I said. "But he's still not happy." I nodded at Jacob. He nodded back. "He's here because of the deaths you caused, Mr. Blunt. You and Tommy Finch."
"I, I..." He swallowed so hard I could hear his throat working from across the room. "I had nothing to do with that, I already told you."
"Don't lie to me," I said with a sigh. "I'm tired. I want to go home. The sooner you confess and give us Finch's address, the sooner Jacob will leave you be."
Blunt's gaze shifted to the door as if he knew someone was out there even though no sounds came from the corridor. "Why do you want me to confess? What good will it do?"
"It'll bring peace to the souls of the dead." It wasn't exactly a lie. I felt as if the spirits of the demon's victims were listening, waiting.
Blunt's lips pinched tightly together. "You won't hurt me."
"We are out of patience, Mr. Blunt. If we need to hurt you to extract information then we'll do it. Come now, give in," I said when he didn't answer. "Your little scheme to rob the houses of your victims has been exposed."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"We know everything, Mr. Blunt, and so do the police." It was a lie but a necessary one. Jacob nodded his approval. "I wouldn't be surprised if Finch lets you take all the blame either"
Why didn't Blunt already know about our encounter with Tommy? He may not have stayed to witness the end of events at Lord Preston's house but surely he saw enough to not be entirely surprised. He certainly seemed shocked by the information. His mouth slackened. He hesitated.
It was too much for Jacob. "This has gone on long enough." He picked up a knife from among the litter scattered on the bare floor.
Blunt scampered back against the bed's headboard. He tried to bat the blade away but Jacob was fast and dodged every move.
"Call George in," Jacob said to me. "I want him to witness Blunt's death so that it's known you're not to blame." "Jacob, no!" I shouted.
He ignored me and stabbed the knife into Blunt's nightshirt, right over the heart.
Blunt screamed as the blade tore through the gray linen and pierced his skin. Blood stained his nightshirt and the sight of it only made him scream harder. He tried to scramble away but Jacob knelt on Blunt's feet and shoved him back up against the headboard. "All right!" Blunt shouted. "I did it. Now get it away from me!" His breathing came in ragged gasps, fluttering the wisps of his moustache. "Call your ghost off!"