Dark Shadows

by Jana Petken

  Madame du Pont’s and Parker’s watchful eyes were on the girls still present and on the clock. The women were paid for on an hourly basis, never half hourly. The little notebooks pinned and chained to Madame du Pont’s and Parker’s skirts listed who was with which girl and how long he had paid for. Madame du Pont, Jacob knew, was quite capable of banging on bedroom doors if a man went over the agreed time limit. Time meant money to her. She was not the generous type when it came to that particular flexibility.

  Jacob seated himself close to the pianist. He enjoyed listening to the music. It soothed him, along with the half-filled brandy glass in his hand. Madame du Pont was going to approach him any minute, he deduced. She was staring openly at him, probably wondering why he had not picked out a woman yet when she had seen to his three companions, who were already settled upstairs. He looked at his pocket watch. The night was still young, and it was too early for poker. The card games rarely began until after the first round of sexual activities had finished.

  He closed his eyes and sank his body into the luxurious soft cushions. With his eyes closed, he’d keep Madame du Pont away. He detested small talk with her, even though she was the hostess who had introduced him to a couple of good business contacts in the past. He smiled to himself. A cotton factory owner once told him that fucking Madame du Pont was like riding a bucking bull. She was, in his opinion, the most unfeminine yet exciting woman he’d ever had. He’d also added that in her younger days, she was not at all bad-looking. She had taken every customer in her stride as many times a night as she could until she realised it was more profitable being downstairs supervising than upstairs fucking.

  Jacob did not think any man would pay her for sex nowadays. A man would have to have a strong stomach to want to fuck her. She would more than likely have to pay the man for the pleasure.

  Jacob’s eyes shot open, and the pianist suddenly stopped playing as screams and shouts of “Fire, fire!” resonated from upstairs, outside in the hallway, and finally in the salon itself.

  Jacob, along with Madame du Pont and everyone else in the salon, sprang to his feet and ran out. Now, not only were there verbal warnings, but an undeniable smell and taste of smoke descending the staircase to crawl into nostrils and throats.

  In the hallway, mayhem met Jacob’s eyes. It took him a moment to separate the chaos from what was actually happening. Girls half dressed, some naked with only sheets covering them, ran towards the main front doors, only to be roughly manhandled back into the salon by the doormen. The customers, on the other hand, were asked to leave the salon in an orderly fashion to seek water buckets from an outhouse behind the kitchens. It was becoming apparent that this was a quickly escalating fire that could only be contained if all men present attempted to stop the flames from spreading.

  Men were buttoning up their trousers as they ran from the building. Jacob heard shouts and orders being issued outside and then the sound of whinnying frightened horses pulling carriages, arriving outside the main entrance.

  Customers who had left their trousers upstairs were comically running around in their long johns. Jacob took in the picture and pushed himself against the flow of traffic, towards the staircase, which was now a smoke-filled invisible hill. His earlier thought – that the men would get water buckets and assist in putting the fire out – disappeared when it became blatantly obvious that there was no such plan afoot in the minds of those men still remaining. The customers were leaving Madame du Pont’s mansion to burn to the ground.

  Jacob stood by the stairs. Jack, James, and Isaac had not appeared. He waited and then saw Jack, cursing because he’d left his jacket upstairs. Isaac followed, and a few minutes later, James appeared, holding a woman’s hand, telling her to leave.

  The four men stumbled outside. Jacob looked up at the building’s facade and saw that some of the first-floor windows had blown out. The flames were licking the outside walls.

  Jack coughed whilst buttoning up his shirt. He said in a panicked voice, “I was on the second floor. The smoke had reached just about every bedroom I passed. I heard window glass smashing and ran for my life.”

  Isaac said, “It’s a mess up there. I’ve never seen a fire spread this fast.”

  “What can we do?” James shouted to Jacob above the noise of breaking glass and sparking timbers.

  “We need water!” Jacob shouted back. “Someone get some damn water! There are still people up there!”

  “To hell with water! I’m getting out of here. If I were you, I’d do the same!” a stranger shouted back at him.

  No one cared, Jacob realised. The entire household of customers and servants alike were thinking about saving their own skins. Even the servants in crisp black-and-white uniforms ran outside and across the lawns until they were out of sight. There were no allegiances to the madam or her home. At some point, the firemen from the firehouse and the Liverpool coppers would arrive, but they would be far too late to halt the inferno.

  Jacob stood with his three companions. Even if they wanted to, they could not supply enough water between them to halt the flames licking the three-storey building.

  Jacob suddenly thought about the woman who had captivated him earlier. She was nowhere to be seen. He had not seen her run down the stairs or outside, and he concluded that she was probably still upstairs.

  Jacob knew exactly what he had to do. His friends were safe, and he was determined to make sure the young woman and anyone else upstairs also got out of this alive. He issued orders: “Jack, James, go get the horses and carriage. Bring them here to the entrance and stay with them. Guard them with your lives. I wouldn’t put it past these people to jump on the back of the first horse they see. I’m going inside. There’s something I have to do. Isaac, will you come with me?”

  “Well, I aint gonna let you go in there alone, am I?” Isaac shouted above the noise.

  Jacob ran up the stairs to the main double doors and into the hallway. Men and women were still appearing from behind a curtain of smoke. Jacob pushed past them, going in the opposite direction, and took to the stairs two at a time. With every step he took, the heat became more intense. Smoke was already filling his nose, mouth, and throat, and he shielded his face with his forearm.

  Isaac followed closely behind Jacob. When they reached the first floor landing, they stopped. “Should we go to the top floor first?” Isaac shouted.

  “No, we’ll search this floor. This fire’s spreading too fast. If we go up one more floor, we won’t make it back down. The stairs are not going to hold much longer. You heard Jack. I reckon we have just about enough time to search one floor. Those damn cowards have run away. We can’t search three floors on our own. We just have to hope that those upstairs made a run for it after they smelled the smoke.

  “Isaac, I’m looking for one woman in particular. She was wearing a green gown and had long black hair. I need to find her.” Jacob coughed and wiped his watery eyes.

  Isaac nodded. “I’ll search as many rooms as I can.”

  There were three long and dark corridors. Jacob took the east corridor, where the flames were highest and more intense, whilst Isaac took the west wing. They would tackle the south corridor after they had searched these particular rooms, but only if it was safe to do so.

  “A quick look in every room, as far as we can go, right?” Jacob shouted.

  Isaac nodded again.

  Each covered his nose and mouth with a handkerchief: scant and pitiful protection, but all they had. They set off in opposite directions.

  Flames licked the walls and lath-and-plaster ceilings, which were beginning to crumble. Jacob, blinded by smoke, felt his way hesitantly, feeling for doors and doorknobs. He dodged a falling chandelier, which just missed him as it came crashing to the floor. He looked into a smoke-filled room and shouted above the noise, “Is anyone in here?” When there was no answer, he moved on, holding the corridor’s wall. At one point, the heat from the wall was so intense that he had to let go and stumble blindly on.


  All the bedrooms were smoke filled, but Jacob had chosen the worst corridor. It was becoming clear that this part of the house was most definitely where the fire had started. Flames and sparks shot upwards and outwards like a firework display. Everything in the fire’s path had ignited, from flowers to decadent fabrics. The flames were rising now along the long hallways, due to soft velvet materials covering the walls. All the glass chandeliers were exploding with the heat, and even the wooden floor in places was smoking, cracking, and about to burst into flames.

  “Is there anyone here? Is anyone hiding in here? Come out quickly! Don’t be afraid!” Jacob shouted out in every room he stepped into.

  He came to a bedroom halfway down that particular corridor. Its door had crumbled. It was impossible to see anything inside at first. The flames were thicker, higher, and the heat more unbearable than in any other room he had seen so far. The fire started here, he deduced by the extent of the damage. The entire room was alight. He was just about to turn on his heel when he saw the remains of a body on top of the bed.

  He got a little closer. Poor bastard, he thought. It was not even what could be described as a body. It was a black burned-out shell. There was absolutely no way to tell if the remains were male or female. His heart suddenly felt heavy. What if it was her? What if she’d been left here to die?

  Just then, Isaac ran down the length of the hallway. He was shouting Jacob’s name, yet under the noise of the flames, his voice sounded as quiet as a whisper. “Dear God, it’s completely unrecognisable,” Isaac said when he saw the remains on the bed. “I don’t even know what gender the corpse is. The fire definitely started here. Come with me. I’ve found something – I think it’s what you’re looking for.”

  Jacob ran behind Isaac, asking no questions. Time was of the essence.

  Isaac suddenly stopped, making Jacob stumble backwards. “There are two women in here!” Isaac shouted. “I can’t get them out. Quickly! We don’t have much time.”

  Jacob panicked. His heart was thumping and the smoke had made him feel drowsy, but his thoughts were still on the woman.

  The room was filled with smoke, just like all the others, but flames had not yet taken hold. “Under the bed,” Isaac said.

  Jacob heard a voice whimpering incoherently. The men got on their knees, lifted the silk bedspread, and stuck their heads underneath the bed frame. Two women clung to each other, huddled on their sides. One was unconscious, the other bloodied and moaning, in shock and unaware of their presence.

  “Julia, please. We have to get out. You have to come with me,” the woman mumbled over and over again, still unaware of Jacob and Isaac.

  Jacob and Isaac pushed the bed towards the wall until the two women were in a position to reach and grab on to. Jacob couldn’t see the women’s features through the smoke under the bed, but as the bed slowly moved towards the wall, their faces and bodies became more visible.

  Isaac pulled the first woman out by locking his hands behind her back and just below her shoulders, whilst Jacob pulled her towards him by her ankles. She was the youngster Jacob remembered from earlier. She was unconscious and completely naked. “Get her downstairs and outside,” Jacob said. “I’ll be right behind you with the other one.”

  Jacob helped put the girl into Isaac’s arms and covered her with the bedcover. He then concentrated on the other woman. He grabbed her by her closest arm and pulled. She too had now fallen into unconsciousness.

  Jacob struggled. He could feel his own lungs filling with smoke. He felt dazed and knew it was only a matter of minutes before they would both fall into an unconscious state and succumb to death. He coughed and then wiped his eyes. He pulled her towards him. Once she was free of the bed, he managed to swing her body up and over his shoulder.

  She had the same long dark curls as the emerald-eyed woman, but the hair was stuck to her bloodied face and he had no time to look at her further. Whoever she was, he had to get them both out and down the staircase before it collapsed and trapped them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Madame du Pont gave calm, clear, and precise orders to Eddie and Sam. She then dismissed the doormen and ordered Parker to accompany her. She sent orders to the coachman to bring her best carriage around to the rear entrance of the mansion and to wait there behind the trees, unseen, until she came out.

  “Under no circumstances must the whores leave the building alive,” she told Eddie. There had always been the possibility of a scenario whereby she would have to make a run for it for one reason or another: an enemy’s loose tongue, betrayal, a dissatisfied customer or servant bent on spiteful retribution. This scenario involved disposing of any evidence that might be prejudicial towards her. The garden was filled with bodies of missing women, and now her current stock of whores would have to die in order to keep their mouths forever shut.

  Her most loyal entourage knew exactly what they had to do. She had drummed it into them over the years. They would not let her down, for if she was arrested, they would accompany her to the gallows. This she had also made very clear.

  The whores had been rounded up. Three or four were missing, and this worried her. Time was no longer on her side, but as she was always optimistic in the face of adversity, she could only hope that they had been trapped and burned to death upstairs. Either way, she had no more time to think about the missing girls. The others who had tried to flee on the shirt tails of clients had been grabbed and were already in the salon. They would be kept there until every client had cleared the premises.

  She was finished here. The fire inside the house had spread too far. There could be no redemption, no business as usual tomorrow or the day after or ever again. The bloody house was falling down about her ears!

  As soon as the firefighters arrived, she would be questioned, creating an assortment of problems. Not all officials were on her payroll. Some honest coppers and magistrates would not treat her well. She could not afford to have girls roaming free and accusing her of abduction and forced prostitution. A pity, she thought for just a moment. She had genuinely become quite fond of a few of the girls. She had seen them grow from young girls into womanhood, and though the law might not see it her way, she was proud of her many achievements, for she’d become a mother figure to some of the older ones.

  Before she tied up her own loose ends, she had to be sure that the clients had already left. She was told they had, apart from four. She knew this because two horses and a carriage outside the main entrance were being protected by two of the four Americans she had seen earlier. The other two men, she assumed, were missing, dead, or dying. She couldn’t wait any longer to ask questions.

  She marched into the salon and looked keenly at the screaming faces staring back at her. They were begging her to release them. She could see terror in their eyes and hear it in their tearful voices. She turned from them and nodded to Eddie and Sam.

  “The moment Parker tells you I am in my carriage, light this room up and make sure you bolt the bloody door. Do what you have to do. Parker, you’re with me.”

  For all her outward calm, Madame du Pont was in shock and devastated. Her entire life was falling apart. Her empire had collapsed, and she had just given the order to murder twenty or so girls. Their deaths would be quick and painless, she told Parker, soothing herself. They would be overcome by smoke and would not feel the flames.

  Parker nodded in agreement, without emotion, as was her way.

  Madame du Pont’s first destination was her suite of rooms. As she hurried across the hallway to a door, which could have been mistaken for just another wall panel by those who knew not of its existence, she grabbed at her chain with the small key attached and yanked it from within the folds of her neck. The chain broke. She did not stop to pick it up. It was the key she wanted.

  She opened the panelled door with another key. Then she walked into a small hallway, where three doors stood closed, and turned to Parker. “Get me three gowns and one for travelling in, some stockings, shoes, and
corsets. My three favourite wigs, face powder, rouge, kohl, and lip paints. That’s all I’m taking. Do it quickly.”

  The smoke had reached downstairs and was now inside her suite. She had no more time to think or to plan. She would travel light. Money was the key to everything, and she had that in abundance. All other possessions could be replaced once she reached her final destination.

  Inside the smoke-filled room, she guided herself to her locked private closet. The small key from her neck chain opened this door. She had come for her insurance, her nest egg, and she would then be finished with Liverpool forever.

  Behind a loose panel, obscured by piles of garments, was a wall safe. She turned the dial to four, two, eight, and six, twisted the handle, and opened the door. She found exactly what she’d come for and smiled for the first time.

  Piles of bank drafts sat in neat bundles. On top of the money were her new identity papers. She would have to wear the black wig, as she was described as black-haired in the papers. She had been dark haired in her youth but hated that colour now. It made her look older.

  She looked at her real name, Margaret Mallory; false date of birth, making her five years younger than her fifty-five years; and false city of birth, Manchester.

  Running an illegal business had taught her many things, the most important being that one should always be ready to make a quick exit should the occasion require it.

  Rolls of notes, dollar bills, and gold sovereigns filled the rest of the safe. She shouted for Parker, who came running with two leather valises. One was filled with Madame du Pont’s clothes, requested earlier, and the other was to be filled with a couple of Parker’s garments and the gold coins that Eddie had always sworn to guard with his life. He would go with her. She could not do without Eddie to protect her; nor could she do without his young body, which she would continue to enjoy until her last breath.