Hunting Down the Darkness

by European P. Douglas

  “Lord Stapleton has given you leave?” She thought about lying but then thought better of it.

  “No, Sir,” she said quietly.

  “You’ve run away?”

  “Yes.” There was silence again and though she didn’t look up from the floor, she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.

  “You don’t look as if you’ve just arrived in Dublin,” he said.

  “No, Sir, I’ve been here a few days now.”

  “Where have you been staying?”

  “A room in Suffolk Street, Sir.”

  “I see,” James said, she was looking at him now and could see that he was trying to figure something out. She only hoped it was either what work he could get her to do, or else how he could keep this from getting back to Stapleton. “I’ll see if we can find anything for you,” he said finally.

  “Oh thank you Alderman,” she said suddenly overcome with excitement. It was only now that she realised how expectant she’d been that he would turn her out. With her emotions let loose so unexpectedly, she rushed to him and threw her arms around him.

  For his part, the Alderman seemed to have been completely taken off guard by this and for a moment he just stood rock solid like a statue, his arms out from his body and stiffly hanging there. Then his arms wrapped around her and she felt the power of his passion as his lips met hers. Not knowing what else to do, she went along with him. After the way he’d turned her down while she lay on his very bed in Waterford she didn’t think anything like this at all was going to happen, but it was very clear to her that she had been on his mind more than once since that night.

  His hands roamed all over her body and soon it became clear that he was not going to take her off to his bedroom. His clumsy inexperienced fingers fumbled at her clothes to get to her skin. They tumbled to the floor such was the awkwardness of his progression but still he bore on and she had never known a man to be so ardent in his passions. Perhaps he has not done this for many, many years, the thought came to her.

  Finally, James had unclasped her enough and he pulled his own trousers down so far as was needed. Lisa felt the thick carpet beneath her and she looked at the ornate ceiling above with its crystal chandelier not yet burning with candlelight. She imagined how it would look later on in the evening when the darkness had faded.

  This was about all of the room she took in before it was over and his heavy wheezing body lay on top of her. She dared not say anything and she lay there waiting. Once he’d gotten his breath back, James jumped up and fixed his clothes. His face glowed red but she saw with horror that it was not exertion on that face but shame! He stormed out of the room and left her lying on the floor.

  Tears came to her eyes as she rearranged her own garments. Did this mean she was no longer welcome in this house now too? How wretched this Dublin place is, she thought. Perhaps she would have been better to have stayed where she was with Stapleton. What was the old saying, Better the Devil you know?’

  Chapter 83

  It was after dinner when Mullins noticed that he’d left his money purse behind him at the blacksmith's. He tried to convince himself that it would be fine and safe where it was until morning- the shop was never broken into after all- but it wouldn’t sit right with him. Tonight could be the first time someone did break in and that would be a full weeks takings gone in one go. He could be there and back in ten minutes, he was sure of it. He didn’t want to go out and leave the women here alone but he didn’t think having them all traipsing around the streets in the dark with him was a good option either.

  “I’ve to pop back to the shop for a minute, I left the bloody takings there,” he announced getting up from the table. The women exchanged a glance and then looked back to Mullins.

  “Won’t it be safe until morning?” Kate said in a pleading voice.

  “Can’t take the chance, Love,” he answered pulling his coat on. He could see the look of worry on their faces and he spoke as encouragingly as he could, “I’ll only be a few minutes, the tea will only be ready for pouring when I come back in this door.”

  He left them knowing, though they tried not to show it, that they were terrified at the thought of being in the house alone. He walked as fast as he could, the same sick feeling as times before that if something were to happen tonight he could be in the wrong place at the wrong time once more.

  Nearing the shop, the tower of the ‘Black Dog’ throwing its shadow across the street, Mullins stopped in surprise. Someone was coming out of the blacksmith! His feet were quickly moving again, not willing to let some sneak thief come in and take his hard-earned money so easily.

  It looked like whoever it was up there was having trouble with the locks. In Mullins’ mind this didn’t make sense, why wasn’t he just running away, what was he trying to lock back up for? His questions was answered almost immediately when he saw the frame move away from the door.

  “Larry!” he called out, “What are you doing?”

  The boy jumped in fright and turned to face the oncoming Mullins. Something gleamed in his hand and Mullins looked down and saw that it was a knife. Dark thoughts came into his mind and he looked at the boy with horror for a moment before dispelling these ideas. It couldn’t be the boy. Only a few weeks ago, he couldn’t even look Mullins in the face; he was hardly likely to be anything of a killer now would he?

  “Mr Mullins,” he said standing nervously in the street.

  “What the hell are you doing with that?” Mullins pointed to the knife. Larry looked down at it and then hid it behind his back as though this would make it gone. “Give me that,” Mullins said reaching behind him and taking it away. He looked at the steel and saw that it had been made in the blacksmith. It was crude but it would certainly do the trick if used correctly. The lad didn’t answer but even in the low light, Mullins could see that his face had gone crimson. He felt for the lad and knew there was going to be some explanation.

  “Come on back inside a minute,” he said, “I left the purse in here, that’s why I’m back down.”

  They went inside and Mullins picked up the purse and felt the weight of the coins. He was certainly glad it was still here. He looked at Larry and smiled,

  “What’s going on?” he asked him.

  “I was going to look for someone,” he answered meekly.

  “With a knife?” Mullins asked.

  “Less than he deserves!” Larry said with a sharpness that surprised Mullins.

  “Who?”

  “Whoever it is that’s scaring Mary!” The boy’s anger was still up and now it all made sense to Mullins. It was stupid but it made sense.

  “That’s not something a young lad like you should be worrying about,” he said softly knowing it was easy to raise the Devil in those who thought they were in love. “There’s others looking in to it and I’m sure it will come to an end soon.”

  “Not soon enough!”

  “I understand why you felt you needed to do something, but I need you to promise me that you’ll never do it again. There is someone far worse prowling the streets at night and he won’t hesitate to kill you if he finds you out after dark.” Larry nodded sadly and Mullins could see that he was also very embarrassed. No doubt it was the last thing he wanted for Mullins to know how he felt about Mary. “I need you to say it,” he said.

  “I promise,” Larry said.

  “That’s a good lad,” Mullins smiled, “Now let’s get you back home and to bed. I want you here bright and early in the morning and rearing for work!”

  “Yes, Mr Mullins,” Larry said glumly.

  Mullins locked up again and they walked away from the shop.

  “Something I’ve learned in my life,” Mullins said after a while, “Your heart will tell you a lot of things, but make sure you always let your head have a say too.”

  “Does that get easier as you get older?” the lad asked. Mullins thought for a moment and then started to laugh. Larry looked at him in surprise and smiled,

  “No, it cert
ainly does not!” Mullins laughed and soon his apprentice was laughing right along with him.

  Chapter 84

  The ringing blows of shame hammered on Alderman James as he stormed through the cold night towards the Liffey. His destination was the southside, and the Liberties in particular, and he meant to find the killer tonight! As he walked the images of Lisa lying on the floor of his sitting room would not leave his mind and fresh shame at his weakness poured heavily over the previous guilt. He wondered what she would have done after he left.

  This brought new grief as his actions there too were shameful, possibly even more shameful than the act he’d committed with the girl. What kind of a gentleman would do such a thing? The answer came quicker than he would have liked- no gentleman at all- and he knew it was the right answer. Even Edwards probably treated his casual street women better than this, he thought.

  James blessed himself and asked God and Jesus for forgiveness as he walked. It would probably be a good idea to go to a church this evening too if he could, perhaps he could find a priest willing to hear his confession. The idea of anyone knowing what he had done upset him even more but it would have to be done if he was to go forward in looking for atonement.

  He crossed the river and was back in the territory of the Dolocher and the death-seekers who had followed him. At once, his eyes sharpened and his ears keened for sounds of movement out of sight.

  Some soldiers passed him but he didn’t bother to stop and ask them anything; he didn’t think they were going to catch the killer anyway. James doubted they were too concerned about what happened to the people here, especially with all the houghing that had gone on of late. He could imagine them saying the people who supported rebellion were getting what they deserved. It was possible they did not even look beyond their ranks when James was not in their presence.

  As James passed an alley not long after meeting the soldiers, he heard a grumbling noise and he stopped and peered in to the darkness. Darkness was the right word for this city, he thought. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that someone was there though he could not make out any of the features of the man’s body. He just knew he was there. This was not a night to toy with Alderman James.

  “Come out here you!” James roared and he leaned in and grabbed the man by what turned out to be the back of his coat.

  “What the...!” the man called out as he stumbled back and was swung in an ungraceful arc out in to the light of the street. There were some slapping noise that for a moment James didn’t recognise but when the man faced him he saw that he’d interrupted a man pissing against a wall. His face showed drunken indignity along with confusion.

  “What the hell are you doing hiding in that alleyway?” James demanded, his cane held up like a weapon and his will to use it razor sharp.

  “I wasn’t hidin’,” the man said, most likely coming to understand who he was talking to.

  “What were you doing then?”

  “I’ve had a few drinks, Sir,” he said pulling his trousers around himself properly, “and I needed to relieve myself.”

  “You must be as stupid as you look then,” James barked, “Have you not heard there is a killer about?”

  “I have, Sir,” the man said looking meekly at his shoes now which had also been rained on in the spin.

  “If I had been the killer you would have been a very easy target wouldn't you? You’d be lying there in your own filth, dead!”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” was all the man could think to say. James simmered down a little, regretting what he had just said. There was every chance that this drunk would tell the story much different than it had just happened. It was very possible he would think that the Alderman has just admitted to being the killer to him. His anger had led to this and he had only himself to blame.

  “Have you heard any rumours about the killer?” James asked the man, lowering his cane as well as his voice.

  “Nothing but rumours, Sir,” the man said seeming to ease a little himself now.

  “Nothing you put any stock in I take it?”

  “People still hold on to the Dolocher around here, Sir, they don’t think it can be caught or killed.” James had gotten this impression himself a few times while talking to the people around here and he had never been able to say anything to make even one of those people think any differently.

  James was about to ask the man something else when his eye caught movement down the road. He squinted his eyes to see better and now he was sure of what he saw. A man, a large man was dragging another smaller man around the corner by the scruff of the neck. Without saying another word to the man in front of him, James set off as fast as he could for that corner. He felt sure that another murder was just about to be committed and he had only moments to stop it from happening.

  The cane was back in its weaponised position in his hands and his heart pounded with the possibility of bringing this killer to justice. Just before he rounded the corner where the two men had gone, James was suddenly aware that he was coming onto Dog and Duck Yard, where Mullins lived.

  When he rounded the corner, a strange sight greeted him. The large man he had seen was none other than Lord Muc and he lifted the younger man and used his head to knock three times on the front door of Mullins’ house. Though it made no sense at all to James, he was sure this had nothing to do with the recent killings. His pace slowed to a walk as he took in what was happening before him.

  Chapter 85

  Three loud and unusual bangs came on the door and Mullins looked up from his chair by the fire as the three women suddenly huddled behind the table. At first Mullins thought it was rat carcasses bouncing off the door again, but then a whining voice crying ‘Stop!’ came and the gruffer voice of Lord Muc saying, “Shut up or I’ll be knocking on the cobbles with your head!” came back.

  Mullins got up and opened the door and the women gathered close behind him, leaning on one another to try see past him as to what was going on. The first thing to catch Mullins’ eyes was not that Muc held a young man under his arm like a pet pig, but that Alderman James was coming to a halt a couple of feet away.

  “What’s going on?” Mullins asked addressing James.

  “I’m here to find out the same thing,” James answered waving his cane towards Muc.

  “John!”

  This voice belonged to Mary and everyone else fell silent and looked to the man in Muc’s embrace. He looked up with scornful eyes and met Mary’s with hatred.

  “You know this fella?” Muc asked shaking him up and down a little.

  “Is this your John, Mary?” Sarah asked and Mary nodded.

  “I thought you were dead,” Mary sobbed.

  “Pity I wasn’t!” he spat back.

  “What’s going on here?” Mullins said looking to Muc, “Who is this fella?”

  “This is the one who’s been haunting Mary and throwing dead rats all over the place!” Muc said as though it were self-evident, “Who else would you expect me to carry to your house like this?”

  “Is this true, lad?” Mullins asked but before John could answer, Mary asked a simple sad question of her own,

  “Why, John? Why would you do this to me?” There was so much sadness and lost love in the question that no one save John could bare to look at Mary when she asked it.

  “Why!” John exclaimed, “Why do you think! You led me up the garden path thinking I’d found a nice girl I could be happy with but all the time you were posing nude for that pervert murderer Spencer!” Now all eyes did fall on Mary.

  “You told me you were dressed for those paintings?” Kate said doubtfully.

  “Of course I was,” Mary snapped, “none of you can possibly think I’d do anything like that.”

  “Spare your lies for the Devil, Mary,” John said, “That rich bloke took me to the place where all of Spencer’s paintings were and every one of them was a nude woman. He told me Spencer always claimed to have had every one of them in his bed as well as on his canvas!”

 
“If you could have believed that of me, John, then we never had what I thought we did in the first place.” There were tears in Mary’s eyes and she turned away from the scene.

  “What rich man is this?” James asked John.

  “I don’t know who he was, he came to the pub and took me to a house on Francis Street where all the paintings were.”

  “Sounds like Edwards,” James said though it seemed to be only for his own benefit. Mullins bristled at the name of the man.

  “He likes to cause trouble, alright,” Muc said.

  “So what has this man been up to?” James asked them all of John.

  “He’s been running a campaign of terror against Mary and by extension the other two women here,” Muc said and Mullins was stunned by the eloquence of his words. “He’s been throwing dead rats at the doors, he smashed the door of their former lodgings causing them to come and live here for the blacksmiths protection, and he’s chased Mary through the streets on at least one occasion that I know of.”

  “You sound like someone from the army reading a report,” Mullins commented. James looked to be mulling things over and John’s eyes had gone to him. Mullins felt the lad could think himself lucky that the Alderman was here or else he could have been on course for a serious beating by both Muc and himself.

  “Though the things you’ve been doing are both stupid and ill intended, there’s no real law being broken,” James said looking almost apologetically at the others. John smiled at this, looking like he’d gotten away with it. “That’s not to say I wouldn't turn a blind eye if Muc here was to break your neck!” James added when he saw that smile. It was quickly wiped from John’s face.

  “You don’t have to worry about me doing anything more,” John said, “I hate this city and have had nothing but poor luck since I came here,” this seemed directed at Mary who was still turned away in tears. “I’ll go back to my own family place in Galway.”