Hunting Down the Darkness

by European P. Douglas

  “So what do you do now?”

  “I have become obsessed with him,” Deek said though there was no smile to his face now. He took another slug of the whiskey.

  “You search for him?”

  “I do, and I don’t know why, but I do it all the same.”

  “Something more powerful than yourself draws you to him,” Muc said.

  “I don’t know, I feel that I somehow have to know for sure what I believe.”

  “What do you believe?”

  “I believe that the Devil exists, but I don’t believe that a God exists.” Muc thought about this and knew he’d had the same idea himself from time to time in his life.

  “You’ve come to Dublin to find him then?” he asked Deek.

  “I go where he leads me. I was in Wild Boar Hall in Waterford and I could feel that he had been there, however long ago it may have been. Perhaps with all the murders that have taken place in Dublin over the last five years, he may indeed be in your city here.”

  “It would make perfect sense to me if he was,” Muc laughed. Deek smiled at this reaction and took in the room of drunken men. “What will you do when you find him?” Muc asked.

  “How that encounter turns out will not be in my power to decide,” Deek answered.

  “I suppose you’re right there,” Muc mused taking a drink.

  “Have you ever felt yourself in his presence,” Deek asked looking at him. Muc had many times in his life been out of control or in some state whereby he was capable of doing terrible things, but he didn’t attribute any of this to anything other than his own makeup. He shook his head,

  “Not knowingly,” he said.

  “If you had been, I think you would know it,” Deek said, “However, there are many who do this work, and you may never get any feeling from them,” he added. Muc nodded at this and raised his mug,

  “To the Devil!” he said smiling. Deek smiled too, held up his own mug and clinked it to Muc’s

  “To the Devil,” he repeated.

  Chapter 69

  It was low evening as the two riders came into Dublin by the Hospital for Incurables near Donnybrook. Lisa was looking at the multitude of buildings that lay far into the distance and Shandy knew she’d never been in the city before.

  “This is the city,” he said gruffly, “I got you here, so that’s the end of our bargain.”

  “Our bargain ends when I have a safe place to stay tonight,” she answered curtly.

  “Are you not to stay with your precious aunt?” he asked, seeing an opportunity to test that woman’s existence. Lisa didn’t look put out by the question,

  “The place she lives is a hovel,” she said, “I will want somewhere nicer than that.”

  “And how do you propose to pay for this accommodation?”

  “I have some money,” she said, “You don't need to worry about that.”

  “Pilfered from the Lord’s pockets while they were down, eh?” he laughed meanly.

  “You’d do well to stay on my good side, Shandy,” she said sharply in answer to this. He made no response and set his horse to walking again.

  “Why aren’t you going to Edwards’ place if that is where you are to work?” he asked her a few minutes later.

  “I’m not due to arrive yet, and I want to have a look at the city before I start in my new position.” He thought to ask her why she didn’t go to Alderman James’ house and ‘earn’ herself a night there, but he thought better of mentioning James now. He didn’t want her to think he might head there to kill him instead of going on to Galway with Stapleton’s message.

  “I have a long ride ahead of me still,” he said, “I didn’t need this detour to Dublin, so you better get settled somewhere soon or you’ll be on your own.”

  “I already told you...”

  “I don’t care what you told me,” he snapped, “It’s me who’s tellin’ you now! Get a place for the night and get it quick. I have to deliver Stapleton’s message to the other side of the country!” This seemed to work; at least Lisa didn’t answer him back this time. After a long pause she said,

  “Take me somewhere,” she said, “We’ll pretend to be married and get a room. I’ll stay there on my own then and you can get going on your errand.”

  “Fine,” he agreed, a couple of places coming to mind where this plan might work.

  An hour later, they stood facing one another in a room overlooking Suffolk Street. The owner of the building had asked them no questions once the money for the room was paid up front. Lisa had given Shandy the money to pay for three nights here.

  “Right,” he said when they were alone again, “I’ve done my part so I’ll be on my way.” Lisa nodded to this and then looked out the window onto the narrow street. Shandy walked to the door and stopped before opening it. He turned back to her. “If anyone comes looking for me, for any reason at all, I’ll be laying the blame at your feet,” he said.

  “Just go,” she said glaring at him and pointing to the door.

  “Heed what I say woman,” he said through gritted teeth, “It will the last thing you ever do, if you cross me.” For a moment, he thought he saw fear behind the defiance in her eyes and that was enough for him for now. He went out and let the door close behind him.

  Once outside Shandy walked around the corner knowing that she would be looking out on him. What she didn't know, however, was that there was a door to the tavern around that corner and when he entered and went to the back he was able to see both her window and the door to the building she was staying in. He would see when she left and he would follow her and see if the aunt existed at all. Lisa would be dead very soon and the Alderman would not be long behind her. He ordered a big meal and waited.

  An hour later Shandy understood that he may not have understand Lisa as well as he thought. She hadn’t arrived out and it was full dark now, looking more and more unlikely that she would venture out this evening. He cursed her again for getting the better of him once more, though how much she had a hand to play in this he could not be sure.

  “What’s she plannin’?” he mumbled from this seat. Was she going to wait until morning and then move in the busy streets to her aunts? He should have known she would be wily enough to stay in this evening with him only just gone out the door from her room. Or was he giving her too much credit? It had been a long journey after all and not something she would have been used to. It was possible she had just been so tired from the travelling that she simply went to bed once he left. She could be snoring her head off right there and then.

  The idea of going back in, sneaking up to the room and killing her while she slept came over him but he knew it would be a bad idea. It wouldn’t solve the ultimate thing she held over him- the knowledge if the letter existed. Also, he wanted her to be fully awake when he finally gave her her comeuppance. He was going to enjoy that, no matter what else happened he was going to enjoy that.

  Chapter 70

  The skin on his face felt tight as he opened his eyes. For a moment, he could not focus on anything, but slowly his vision cleared and the pain in Steven Olocher’s head came thundering into his consciousness. He rolled over onto his back and stared at the sky; the cobblestones beneath hard on his spine as he did. He put his hand to his face and felt where it was tight and crumbling flecks like dried sweat came off in his hands. When he looked, he saw it was blood and he tried to remember what had happened. He touched his wound gingerly and felt the still wet sticky blood in his hair.

  It came back to him in one flash; he’d been chasing the shadow killer and somehow he must have turned the tables on him.

  “Bastard!” Olocher spat as he pulled himself up to a sitting position. What had he done wrong, this was something that hadn’t come back to him yet. In his mind, he heard the slapping feet as they ran down by Christ Church Cathedral but there was nothing coming after that. He vaguely saw the man turn a corner; had he stopped and delivered a knockout blow as Olocher came around after him? That seemed most likel
y.

  His senses returning, Olocher stood up knowing he had to get away from here and home to safety as quickly as he could. It was only then that he saw the body of the man on the other side of the laneway. He was dead, most definitely dead. The throat was cut completely out of the neck and there was more blood on the ground than Olocher had ever seen before. He looked around in horror. Thankfully, it was still dark and there was no sign of anyone. He imagined if someone had come across this scene already, they would have raised hell and there would be many onlookers by now.

  “Stay calm,” he told himself knowing from his training with Muc that this was the only way to get through sometimes. He looked once more at the body and knew from the coat it was the man he’d been chasing. It looked like he wasn’t the killer after all but just someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. He glanced at the man’s face but did not recognise him.

  Anger began to rise as he had a quick look around on the ground for anything that might incriminate him later if left behind. The killer had already been able to take one of his victims away from him and now he’d even been able to somehow anticipate this chase and lie in wait to take him out and kill right beside his knocked out body. How he must be laughing at me, Olocher thought.

  Seeing nothin and thinking it best he leave now and not push his luck any further, he peeked around the corner and then moved off in the direction he’d come. He planned to go back through the archway at Hell and go back home by the most direct route.

  As he walked with his head down and his collar turned up to hide his bloody face and head he became aware of something heavy bouncing in his inside cloak pocket. He reached inside without stopping and at once felt the ooze and gore and knew what it was. His face curled in disgust and loathing at the killer as he moved his hand away from the severed throat that seeped blood inside his cloak so that he could feel it now. The temptation was to pull it out and throw it away or else pull off the cloak and discard that but he knew either of these things would draw attention to himself.

  Brooding, he wondered if Edwards was right, was Muc the man here. If the pain in his face was anything to go by it was certainly possible. Olocher knew that it wasn’t as easy as most people thought to knock a man out cold with one punch in the face. Muc was the only man he could think of with that kind of force behind him on a consistent basis. If this was the case Olocher wasn’t happy to have such a man for an enemy.

  The wind whipped up flapping his cloak about him as he crossed the river at Essex Bridge. He felt both the cold and the horrible thudding of the throat on his chest, a squelching noise in there to add to the discomfort. Again, he cursed his idea to come out at all this evening.

  He hoped Edwards was not at home when he got there. He was going to have to explain where his injuries had come from and there was little point to lying about it, but he hoped that could wait until tomorrow. It would be a trying conversation and it would be best to have at least some sleep and rest before it.

  Olocher wondered what this might mean for the grand plan. For the first time since getting involved in this, he felt afraid and worried that he was not going to be up to the job after all. If that was the case, he didn’t see Edwards allowing him to live in his house anymore; everything would change.

  “You are more than capable of doing this!” he suddenly heard his own voice say. It came to him like this sometimes and every time it did, he thought of the large painting of the Devil that hung in his bedroom. Perhaps some time studying the painting again would shed some light on what course he should next take.

  Chapter 71

  Alderman James looked over at Newgate Prison as he walked to Mullins’ blacksmith. It seemed that he couldn’t get this prison out of his life; so much of his work brought him back here year after year. He wished in a way that it would somehow crumble to the ground and be gone forever. He turned his eyes away and back to his goal. He could hear the banging hammer on the iron as he got closer and it was a sound pleasant and simple in his ears. He stopped outside and listened to it for a few moments before calling out in between blows,

  “Mr Mullins!”

  “Come in!” the blacksmith’s voice called back. James entered and found the huge man Mullins standing over his work, sweat glistening on his body. He wore only a vest and the muscles all over his body were taut from effort. A young boy was nearby tending to the fire and looking warily at James when he entered. James did not know this boy and he recalled Mullins’ previous apprentice had left some time ago.

  “What can I do for you, Alderman,” Mullins asked looking worried and putting his hammer down.

  “You needn’t worry, Mr Mullins, I’m here to speak to Mary Sommers,” James said, “I have been informed she might be here.” Mullins didn’t say anything but a voice came from behind James,

  “Yes, I’m here, Alderman James.” He turned and saw Mary standing in the doorway that led to the small storage yard. She looked tired and worried too,

  “Hello Ms Sommers, you have no need to be nervous either. Why don’t we go for a little walk and continue our talk from the other day?” he suggested.

  “Alright,” Mary said and she looked to Mullins as though for permission. James followed her gaze and then looked back to her.

  “I’ll wait outside,” he said and then nodding to Mullins and the boy he left.

  Mary was less than a minute behind him and in that time he’d decided to do something nice for her.

  “I received a letter from Spencer,” he said as they started to walk. She looked at him in surprise but he put his fingers to her lips for her not to react loudly. She looked around as if she thought someone might be watching them. “Wait until we are inside,” James said.

  They didn't talk again until they were in the Chocolate House at Fownes Court. Mary stopped outside as they were about to go in but James moved her on with a gentle nudge. Once inside and seated James ordered chocolate for both of them while Mary took in the room. It was clear she had never been in such a place. James imagined the only beverage house she’d ever been in would have been the tavern she once worked in back when she was attacked and so badly scarred by Cleaves at the start of the Dolocher murders. He allowed her to look around in wonder without speaking to her until the chocolate came. She looked into it and smiled thanking him profusely; he waved away her thanks,

  “No need,” he said, “I just hope you enjoy it.”

  He watched as she took a sip and then a new smile and joy overcame her face.

  “This is delicious,” she said. He nodded in agreement and he took some of his own drink. A moment later Mary’s face lost its glow, however, and she whispered, “You say Colonel Spencer sent you a letter?” James was glad of her tact and nodded,

  “Yes, he tells me he is innocent, just like you did.” Mary’s face flushed and he could see her secrets coming to the surface. “It’s in his best interests if you tell me the truth,” he said.

  “I did, Sir,” she said looking away from him.

  “I mean the whole truth,” he sighed, “You’ve seen him, yes?” For a moment, she didn’t answer but then her head began to nod slowly.

  “Tell me what you know,” James said, glad to be at this point in the tale.

  Mary spent the next ten minutes telling him how she went to see him, their meeting and going to his house once he escaped and the man across the street who had been watching them. James listened with great interest and he tried to make connections as she talked but was having trouble with this.

  “So you haven’t seen him for a while then?” he asked when she had stopped talking.

  “No, and I don’t expect I will until he proves himself innocent,” she said.

  “It’s of the utmost importance that he turns himself in,” James said, “If he’s innocent we need to know what he knows about the killer.” He felt sick admitting aloud that he thought there was a possibility that the killer from last year was still a free man and had started up again.

  “I don’t thin
k he’ll do that,” Mary said meekly, “I imagine he’s afraid you might just send him to the gallows without delay.”

  “That’s not what I intend,” James said thinking this was probably the case, “Especially if he is innocent.”

  “What do you intend, Alderman James?” Mary asked and her look pierced him though she was sincere in her interest.

  “I intend to get to the bottom of this, and for it to be all over very soon,” he said feeling the weight of the investigation on his shoulders like never before.

  “I hope you succeed,” Mary said softly,

  “So do I, Mary,” James said, “So do I.”

  Chapter 72

  Mullins had been off form for a few days now. The episode with Madame Mel had humiliated him and the drinking binge he’d gone on after it had made him feel weak the next two days. There were vague images of meeting Muc in his mind and he could recall strange dreams about a huge foreigner but he couldn't get any details to come forward.

  Then the Alderman had come into the workshop and scared Mullins half to death- he thought he was going to be wrongfully arrested again and he knew if it happened again it would be the last time! Thankfully, he was only looking for Mary but that led to questions in itself. He would let Kate and Sarah know what had happened and they would get the truth out of Mary later.

  When he got home, however, things didn't go according to his plan. Mary hadn’t come back to the blacksmith after she left with the Alderman and Mullins had assumed she came straight back to the house before it got dark. When he come in the door, however, Kate and Sarah were on him immediately.

  “Where’s Mary?” Kate asked when she saw him close the door behind him.

  “She’s not here?” he asked.