The Wintergarden case

Hell breaks loose!

Little Tom. It was little Tom. His pale, ghastly and slightly malnourished face appeared right behind Holly. For a moment I was struck. Shocked. Surprised. And then years of skill and raw instincts took over.
"Holly! Get away" I shouted.
"What do you mean" she said as panic settled over her features.
I shoved her out of the way. And reached for my rapier. Bloody hell. A dead weight settled in my stomach . I had left it beside my rucksack when I took out the salt.
Slowly, dreadfully, I looked up at the visitor. Tom was a small figure fir his age. Petite. He was dressed in pants, a shirt and an overcoat that seemed... old, worn in. Robert must have been a ruthless person to have killed such a... sympathetic child.
Sympathetic or not, it was a visitor and was needed to be sorted as soon as possible. I took a shaky breath and used the Lucy Carlyle Formula TM.
"Tom. I understand your pain. I can make it go away." I observed the visitor, it seemed to have become clearer. Beside me Holly let out a whimper. "Lucy, no. Pl-please don't do it".
I paid her no heed. "I can help you, but you need to trust me. What are you attached to? Tell me."
And then I heard a voice. Soft. Dry. As if dry leaves rustling in the soft dust. " I-I need..."
" Yes , what is it?"
"I-I need..." It repeated.
I heard George yelling up at me and the figure shrinked near the wall.
"Don't worry. Ignore them. Tell me."
Then George called up to me, "Luce, we had it wrong, the little one was the murder. It was that rich, spoiled, little- uh not exactly little, brat who murdered Robert,"

Oh no. My blood chilled. The visitor before me was a dangerous type two. It was smiling maliciously. It was feeding off the fear. My fear. But something still felt wrong. It's gaze was fixed somewhere else. When i looked to where it was staring, my knees almost buckled. It was Holly. Who sat there. Her back to the banister, knees to her chest, breathing shallowly. Dear God. She couldn't see it.