#arthur shelby fic
hello i always say this but i may come back to writing just a little bit. today feels appropriate for that. so much has happened in my life these past few months and right now just seems like the messiest, yet stillest time. i will keep my promise and post Bury Me part 4. i will also, if you don’t mind, write for another fandom occasionally. it’s what is most comforting and what i can draw inspiration from at this time. we’ll see how today goes.
lots of love
Sorry for the wait. Sorry this is reeeaaally short. Mostly consist of Ada. Part 4 will come later tonight! | Part 1 | Part 2
With an aura of mystery surrounding your death, you had become a myth of some sort in the whole of Birmingham and beyond. Every wife of every gangster and politician uttered condolences with a hint of fear in wake of the news. Wives- mothers- were untouchable in the business of ilegal biddings and violent men; yet, you had perished, leaving a body that was rumored to not be yours and a trace of letters that had no address or clues of your whereabouts.
Ada Shelby, your sister in law and friend, had taken it upon herself to gather every book on cryptic messages used by spies and forensic detectives to decode any clues hidden amongst your passive letters. She studied every letter, every number, every single curvature that your shaky handwriting provided in hopes of interpreting your cries for help. You were smart- smarter than most, and Ada knew that. Even in death you would negotiate a better deal for yourself.
It was half past midnight when Ada slipped a bit of rum to her third cuppa that she noticed subtle clues in the second letter. For a woman that avoided Church as much as the devil itself, you made far too many biblical allusions. “To indulge in the garden of all things forbidden provided by our Lord. Oh Arthur!”
Her brows furrowed and mouth parted in a silent squeal. Ada tripped over her own feet, spilled the rum and tea that had already gotten cold, and raced to the telephone in sweaty haste.
One ring
Two rings
“This better be good Ada, do y-”
“She’s in London. The Eden Club.”
