Chapter 1

"I also found this." I held up the worn black-and-white photo I'd found at the subway station. "I was hoping you could explain it to me?"

Henry had been cheerful when he answered the door. When he saw the picture, his face fell. As I waited for his reply, I tried to decide what he was feeling. I saw sadness in his eyes, certainly. Surprise. But fear? Why would Henry be afraid of an old photograph?

Abe came up behind him and saw the picture. His response was immediate. He said simply, "Tell her."

Henry looked at Abe, startled, and then seemed to make a decision. He smiled and said, "It's a long story." Stepping back, he gestured for me to come inside.

I stepped into the shop and followed him up the stairs to their apartment. Abe called after us, "I'm going for a walk. Give me a call if you need me."

"Yes, thank you, Abraham," Henry called back. His voice was shaking. My instinct was to reassure him, but I fought it; I had waited too long for answers, and I didn't care if he was nervous, he was going to give them to me. I deserved answers.

When we reached the top of the stairs, he started towards the kitchen. "I'll pour us a glass of wine," he said over his shoulder. "Take a seat. I'll be there in a moment."

"Henry, I don't want wine," I told him. "I just want answers."

"Well, I want wine, and if you want your answers, I'm going to need it." He poured two glasses and brought the bottle with him to the living room. "Please, sit down," he said, motioning to a chair. I took it; he took the other, putting the glasses on the side table.

I started to speak, but he cut me off. "Jo, I know you want answers," he began. I'd never seen him look so nervous. He was actually wringing his hands. "But I'm going to tell you right now that you're not going to like the answers I give you. You probably won't believe me. You might even think I'm clinically insane. So if you want your answers, you have to promise me something."

"What, Henry?"

He hesitated. "Promise me that, no matter what you might think, you won't have me committed."

I cocked my head at him. I could hardly believe my ears. "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause. Henry and I looked at each other. Finally I said, "Okay, Henry. I promise. Just tell me whatever it is you have to say."

"You promise not to have me committed?" Henry insisted.

"I promise," I repeated. "Just tell me, Henry."

He sighed. "Okay." He sat back in his chair. He didn't look at me, instead looking around the room as he spoke. "As I said, I don't think you'll believe me. However, I swear to you that what I tell you will be the truth as I know it."

He hesitated. He seemed to be trying to work up the courage to speak. When he did, it was in slow, halting tones, completely unlike his normal manner. "You may recall I had a... an uncommon interest in the slave ship, the Empress of Africa. There was a reason for that, beyond what I told you." He took a deep breath. "Did Isaac tell you how the slaves survived?"

I shook my head, then remembered he wasn't looking at me. "No, he didn't say."

"There was a man, a doctor. He tried to stop the ship's captain from throwing a sick slave overboard, and was shot by the captain himself. While the crew was dragging him up from the hold to throw him overboard, a key dropped from his hand. A slave was able to reach the key through the bars of his holding cell. Because of the key, the slaves were able to escape their cell, overthrow the crew, and make it to shore before the ship sank."

Henry paused. When he didn't speak for a moment, I asked, "What does this have to do with you?"

He turned to look me in the eyes. His voice was completely serious when he said, "I was the doctor on that ship, Jo. I tried to protect the slave and failed. I was shot – you've seen the scar. I was thrown overboard. I died."

In any other situation, I would have been waiting for the punchline. But this was Henry. Slowly I said, "You were the doctor."

"Yes."

"On the Empress of Africa."

"Yes."

"The ship that sank two hundred years ago."

"Yes."

"So that would make you, what... two hundred and thirty or so?"

He closed his eyes. "Yes. That night, when I was thrown overboard, I died, but I was reborn. It was the first of many deaths. That first case we worked together, when you thought you saw me fall off of the building? You were right – I did fall off the building. I jumped, actually. I died that day, and I came back to life, just as I always do. I am immortal, Jo."

I was about to reply, although I had no idea what I was going to say, when my cell phone rang. Henry and I both jumped. I pulled it out of my pocket and sighed. It was Hanson.

"Yes?"

"We've got a fresh one," Hanson said briskly. "42nd and Lex. Want me to call the Doc?"

I glanced at Henry. "No, I'll let him know."

"See you soon." Hanson hung up.

"I assume we have a case?" Henry asked. "We can resume this conversation at a later date. Or never, if you'd prefer." He said the last part to his hands, as if he was afraid to look at me.

"Oh, we will continue this conversation," I told him firmly. "And maybe when we do, you will start making sense. 42nd and Lex, Henry. Grab your coat." With that, I headed towards the stairs.

Here's my attempt at Henry telling his secret to Jo. It's not perfect, but I think it works in the end! The story is complete - I will try to post one chapter a day.