Mersey Dark

by Michael Whitehead

  “Oh, don’t worry about me, sergeant,” Jane began. She looked at Philips, then asked, “actually, you look a little pale, would you like to sit down?”

  Tanner did his best to keep a grin from betraying him. Jane was right, Philips looked less than well, now that he looked closer. The big man had lost colour in his cheeks but he shook his head and pulled back the cover.

  “Well, well,” Jane said under her breath. She moved around the table, causing the men to step back in order to give her more room. “Quite extraordinary.”

  She spent the next few minutes examining the body. She leaned close to the face, smelling the fur and opening the eyes with her fingers. She moved down the body, prodding it and lifting its hands in order to examine the fingers and claws.

  All the while she worked she muttered to herself. Tanner heard her exclaim, “My goodness,” more than once and “remarkable,” at least twice. Eventually she looked up from her work and around the room.

  “This is the single most extraordinary creature I have ever seen, which is a misnomer in and of itself,” she said, stepping back from the table.

  “Misnomer?” Tanner asked. He had never heard the word before but inferred the meaning from the answer Jane gave.

  “It is in fact not a single creature,” she said. She looked at the men around her waiting for one of them to challenge her assumption. Either they had no argument, or they had no words in which to express themselves however, as they remained silent. She tilted her head slightly, showing surprise at their restraint.

  Finally Tanner felt the tension in the room and asked a question, “You mean it’s a cross breed?”

  “Not quite detective,” Jane answered, smiling slightly. “This creature is both a man and a rat.”

  “I don’t understand, could you explain?” Philips said, finally coming to life.

  “I see evidence of both a rat and a man,” Jane began. “If this were some unnatural breed of both species the features would be some half-way point between the two. In this case however, I see very definite parts of both. I see, for example, human muscles around the torso and rat claws on the hands. The face is human but covered with rat fur and with rat teeth.”

  “So what are you saying? That a man and a rat became one creature? That they joined together and made this third thing?” Philips asked, beating Tanner to the same question.

  “That is, in as simple terms as I can put it, exactly what I am saying,” Jane said. Again she looked about her, waiting for someone to object to her words.

  “How?” Philips and Tanner asked the same question at the same time.

  “That, I simply have no idea about,” Jane said. “It’s as if the two beings have simply melded into one. It has kept some characteristics of one thing and some of the other. I would have to dissect it in order to tell how deep the two halves of the creature go.”

  “You mean cut it open?” Philips asked.

  “Precisely. I can tell only so much from examining the outside of this creature. It is obviously very strong, the muscle mass alone is much greater than that of a man. The teeth tell me it must have an extraordinary bite, I would like to learn more. The claws would be extremely effective in a fight. After that, without seeing a live specimen I would have to start an internal examination.”

  Sergeant Philips started to ask Jane where and how she would like to go about the examination. Tanner heard her reply that she would like the body moved to the Philosophical Society. This conversation was secondary in his mind to something Jane had just said and the memory it had begun to draw from his mind.

  “The teeth tell me it must have an extraordinary bite, I would like to learn more.” That was what she had said, and it rang in Tanner’s head like a bell. Somewhere, somebody had said something similar and it had been recently. So much had happened over the last few days that he was struggling to tell one thing from the next. Not a great thing for a detective, he must admit to himself, but the alarm bell in his mind continued to toll.

  “Excuse me,” he said, getting up and heading out of the room. He felt the eyes of the others follow him through the door but he suddenly knew what it was that Jane’s words had brought back to him.

  He continued down the corridor, past the office he shared with Groves and Evans. He was almost running as he got to the cell block. The constable in charge sat behind his desk with his feet up. He looked like he might have been asleep just moments before.

  “Is Mickey Flynn still in his cell?” Tanner asked the officer.

  “For about another hour. He’s due in front of the judge this afternoon,” the constable answered. As he spoke he dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward to rummage in his desk drawer. He produced a small brown paper parcel and unwrapped it to reveal a slice of fruit cake.

  “I need the key to his cell,” Tanner requested.

  “I’m not supposed to give out the keys unless there are two of you,” he replied picking off a corner of the cake and dropping it into his mouth.

  “I brought him and his brother in, I really don’t see him being a problem. Now give me the key.” This time it was less a request and more a demand. Tanner didn’t raise his voice but something in the way he spoke got the constable moving. He slid his chair back toward a metal cabinet on the wall behind him, while unhooking a ring of keys from his belt. He spent a moment selecting the correct one, and opened the door to reveal a number of hooks. He fished out the correct heavy iron key and threw it to Tanner.

  “If anyone asks, I know nothing about this,” he said, turning his attention to the fruit cake.

  Tanner nodded his thanks and carried on past the desk toward the cells. He didn’t even bother looking through the other doors, it would make no difference who was behind them, he was only interested in the occupant of cell five.

  He slid the hatch open and glanced inside. Mickey was lying on his bed, one ankle propped on the opposite knee. He had his hands clasped behind the back of his head and he was whistling toward the ceiling. As the hatch opened, he looked over and grinned.

  “I was wondering if I might see you before I got out of here,” he said. He spoke as if he cared little about facing the prospect of hard time in jail, or even the hangman’s noose.

  Tanner had the key in the lock and the door open before Mickey could get himself to a seated position. He slammed the door behind him and took two steps toward the bed, planting a heavy boot onto Mickey’s chest.

  “What the f...let me up, Tanner,” the Irishman shouted, struggling in vain to free himself, his voice restricted by the lack of air getting to his lungs.

  “Lay back and shut up,” Tanner said, leaning over his leg to stare straight down into Mickey’s face. The smaller man let his head drop to the bed, he didn’t relax but for his own good allowed himself to be overpowered.

  “What do you want copper?” Mickey said, trying in vain to show a little bravado. Normally Tanner would knock the spirit out of him, but just at the moment his mind was on other matters.

  “What did you mean the other day?” he asked.

  “I said a lot of things in the last few days, Tanner. You’ll have to be more specific,” Mickey replied and a grin began to creep on to his face. The bruises Tanner had put there were fading to purple and yellow but still stood out on his pale skin.

  Tanner let his weight lean a little heavier onto the Irishman’s chest, watching him struggle, trying to shift the weight off himself without success. He kept the pressure on for a few moments saying nothing, then leaned back a bit and allowed the smaller man to breathe.

  “You’ll learn more about biting than you ever wanted, that’s what you said to me,” Tanner said, putting the pressure back on Mickey’s chest, then letting it off once more.

  “I wondered when you’d be back to ask me about that,” Mickey said, a full smile on his face.

  Tanner leaned every pound of his weight on the man on the bed. Letting the heel of his boot dig into his stomach. Mickey grunted in pain and then began
to gasp for air. He flailed ineffectual punches at Tanners leg. The detective kept the pressure on until he felt the fight leave his prisoner, then took his foot away all together. The Irishman rolled onto his side, gulping in air and clutching his abused chest. Tanner reached down, took hold of the front of his shirt and dragged him to his feet. He pulled him to the far wall and pinned him against it.

  “I really don’t have the time for this, Mickey. Now, I’m going to give you one chance to tell me everything you know about the creature I have lying on a table in the back room of the station. People are dying and if I have to go to the judge and tell him that you met the same fate, I will.”

  “Okay Jesus, Tanner, I’ll tell you what you want to know, just let me breath will you?” Mickey let himself slump in Tanners grasp and the detective let him go. Coughing and gasping for air, he slid down the wall to a seated position at Tanners feet.

  “You finally saw one of them, did you? Funny how the coppers are always the last people to know about something like this,” Mickey said, looking up at Tanner.

  “So, what’s the word?” Tanner asked, a little gentler than he had been so far. The stick had been swung and now it was time for the olive branch.

  “All I really know is that a couple of months ago we had a visitor, me and my brothers. He said he worked for a man called Davidson. He said he was recruiting families like ours to join in some kind of revolution. He said, and I remember this bit very well, he wanted people from the down-trodden countries of the Empire.”

  “And I suppose you said no, because you don’t do such things?” Tanner said, smiling a little now that Mickey was talking, not wanting the man to clam up. Experience had taught him that a beaten dog will lick its masters hand given the slightest show of favour.

  “No, we just don’t work for anyone else,” Mickey replied. Tanner had to stop himself laughing at the look of pride that crossed his face as he said this.

  “Fair, enough. What else did he say?”

  “He gave this long speech about how this Davidson fella is some big powerful guy. I start to wonder why I’ve never heard of him but I don’t ask, you know? He tells us that they are recruiting people from the gangs in Liverpool. The Irish, ex-slaves, that kind of thing. He tells us that they are fighting the powers that be. Now, I don’t know what he means by that exactly, but I tells him that I don’t fight anyone. As long as me, and me brothers is okay, I really don’t give two fucks about anyone else, you know. I certainly don’t want to be part of no army or revolution.”

  “Okay,” replied Tanner. He had expected a bit of information from Mickey but the man seemed to be happy to get everything off his chest. “So how does this relate to the thing we found, and what you said about biting?”

  “That’s just it, you see? We start to hear rumours of people going missing. Beggars, people on their way to the poorhouse, orphans, even sailors. At the same time, there is talk about these fucking...monsters running around. At first I don’t believe them, but then my own cousin says he’s seen one and I kind of have to, you know? All the while I keep hearing this name, Davidson. Rumours are that he’s responsible for bringing these fucking monsters here, they are part of his plan.”

  Mickey stopped talking and looked at Tanner, obviously finished. He made to get to his feet, feeling that he’d said enough, Tanner held out a hand and pushed him back to his seated position, the Irishman slumped back down.

  “What? I’ve told you everything I know,” he said

  “Where? Where is this Davidson hiding himself?” Tanner asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mickey said, then seeing the expression on Tanner’s face he held up a hand and continued, “I swear, I don’t know!”

  Tanner looked down at the man before him, weighing up everything he had just told him. He decided that he believed him, at least about not knowing Davidson’s whereabouts. He stepped back and allowed Mickey to get to his feet.

  “On the bed while I unlock the door,” he said, and watched as Mickey obliged.

  “So what do you say, Tanner?” the Irishman asked. “Any chance of having a word with the judge for me?”

  Tanner laughed, causing Mickey to scowl. “Not a chance, you thieving piece of shit.”

  “What? Oh, come on Tanner. I just spilled my guts to you and you’re going to let me swing?” He asked, exasperated.

  “I’d say that pretty much sums it up, yes Mickey. Now you have yourself a nice life, however short it might be.” Tanner turned away from the man on the bed but caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. Mickey got to his feet and leapt at Tanner’s back in one fluid movement. It might have been quick enough to catch most people unaware, but Tanner was ready for it. He turned back and caught Mickey between the eyes with a fist that almost covered the Irishman’s face. He slumped to the ground, unconscious before he stopped falling.

  Tanner looked down at the prone figure, watching his chest lift and fall slowly. Then he unlocked the door and left the cell. He threw the key to the officer at the desk as he passed.

  “He might need to be woken up to see the judge,” he said and carried on down the corridor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The woman was dragged out of the cage, into the lamplight, and Billy watched from the sanctuary of darkness. She struggled and thrashed about, trying to break the grip that held her wrist. The man who pulled her from the cage dropped her in front of his leader.

  “I told you I wouldn’t forget you, loud-mouthed bitch,” he said to her as she kneeled before him on the rocky floor of the tunnel.

  “Leave me alone,” she said to him through her tears.

  Billy felt Bird take his hand and welcomed her closeness. It had been a close call for a moment, with Billy caught half in and half out of the cage. He could still feel the pressure of the wooden post, and the panic that had turned his bowels to water. He rubbed at his chest absently.

  In front of the cage the leader of the small gang of men backhanded the woman across the face, causing her to fall to the floor. Some of the men in the cage began to protest loudly, their shouts echoing off the rock walls. The leader turned toward the cage, fury showing on his face as he stood before the open door and shouted.

  “Do the rest of you want to come out here and fight for her?” Nobody moved and the leader stared at them for the longest time, letting his gaze slip from one man to the next. “I didn’t think so,” he said finally. “Take her, and him as well,” he said, pointing at a man who Billy thought might be his friend Harry. In the dark it had been hard to tell one person from another, but he was almost certain.

  Harry, if it was him, didn’t put up a fight. In fact, he walked out of the cage of his own volition. He leaned down and picked up the woman who was lying on the floor of the tunnel. He looked at the leader and shook his head in admonition. The leader stepped forward, seeming to contemplate starting a fight but then shrugged and smiled.

  “Very good.” He motioned with his hands, “Shall we?” He asked, as if he were being polite and opening a door for a guest.

  Harry led the woman by the arm, she stumbled slightly as if her vision had been blurred by the blow to her face. Billy watched the group head off up the tunnel and let out a sigh of relief, for a moment he had been sure the men would realise the cage was less full than it should have been.

  Bird stood up from their hiding place and turned back to Billy. He crouched in the darkness, not understanding what she was doing.

  “We need to follow them,” she whispered urgently.

  “What? Why?” Billy asked. The last thing he wanted to do was remain close to the very men they were trying to get away from.

  “Because we don’t know where we are going and they do,” she said, pulling on his arm. “They might be heading out of the tunnels.”

  “They might also be heading further in,” Billy said to her. The group of men were leading their prisoners further up the tunnel and Billy could feel Bird getting more and more anxious. She was right, there was
at least half a chance that they would be heading out and by following, Billy and Bird might escape. The thing that finally made up his mind was simply that he didn’t want to wander about in the dark if he didn’t have to. At least if they followed the men they would be close to a source of light, even if they weren’t in it.

  “Okay,” Billy said, under his breath and he heard Bird let out a breath of relief.

  The two of them passed the cage, and heard one of the women who was still caught there say, “good luck,” as they passed.

  They followed the gang, keeping well out of the light, hugging the walls of the tunnels and using any cover they could find. After what felt like days in the near total darkness, the faint light they drew off the gang’s lantern was enough for them to see the ground around them. It was also a little unnerving, making them feel exposed and too visible. How soon the darkness had become comforting and the light something of which they should be wary.

  At the top of the first tunnel, they had assumed there was a guard. They reached the corner and Billy held Bird back while he crept forward to see. It was, in fact, a single lamp. It had been placed high on a natural rock shelf, presumably to mark the way to the cage.

  It looked to Billy like the men had assumed it would be impossible to escape the cage and even harder to find their way out of the maze of tunnels. There was no other reason he could think of that there would not to be a guard on the prisoners. Either way he thanked his lucky stars and they carried on following the distant light of the gang.

  They continued through a maze of tunnels, turning left, then right. Always they kept far enough away from the men that they could not be seen in the light, but close enough that they were not lost in the dark. It was hard to tell how far they walked or for how long, but eventually the men in front of them stopped. Billy couldn’t tell what they were doing but there seemed to be some discussion before they seemed to step down and out of sight.

  “Wait here,” he said to Bird. “I’ll go see what’s happening.”