by Tony Roberts
EPILOGUE
It took him a month to get home. The leaves were falling from the trees and a cold wind blew across the hills as Case entered the farmhouse. The first person he saw was Ann. She stared, her mouth opened and she shrieked in delighted surprise. It took Case a few minutes to drag her off him and by the time he had both Mary and Patrick had gathered round, talking excitedly.
“Took yer time, did ye not?” Mary said acidly.
“And I’m pleased to see you too, Mary McGuire,” Case replied. “I came as fast as I could. You got my letter about Michael?”
“Aye that we did,” Mary said darkly. “We buried Bridget and gave that German’s remains to the Schwarzes. They confessed to helping that devil Whitby in kidnapping Elizabeth. Once they realized he’d tricked them they came to us and told us everything, so they did.”
“So where are they now?”
“Gone. The neighbors didn’t want them here and there was so much bad feeling all round that they decided it was better they left. Now, Case Lonnergan. What are ye going to do for our poor Elizabeth?”
“I’ll get her back. Did Whitby say where he was keeping her?”
“Only by some vague reference to the place about a Lamb’s lair. What that is I don’t know. Do ye?”
Case nodded. “Oh yes, I know exactly where that is.”
Ann took Case by the hand. “Come see Billy before ye go; he’s a beautiful boy, so he is.”
“I’m sure he is,” Case muttered, allowing himself to be dragged up the stairs to one of the bedrooms. A small bed stood there and in it was sleeping a small boy. Case grinned. “He’s a smashing little lad. Congratulations. Where’s Sean?”
Ann’s face clouded over. “Ah. Now that’s a sore point. The no-good wastrel has taken to the drink. Happened after Billy was born and Bridget vanished. Spends much of his time in town drinking, so he does. Comes home drunk as a lord. No good to anyone. Mother hates him and has threatened to put him into the ground unless he mends his ways.”
“I bet she has! Okay, let’s get this over with. Whitby has got it coming.”
Ann took hold of the rifle. “No guns. He was specific about that. Liz will die if ye come armed.”
Case sighed. “Very well. It seems I’m to go there defenseless. I’ll bring her back, Ann.”
“I know ye will, Case. Go careful now.”
As he went back down Patrick intercepted him. “Case. I’ve saddled Napoleon for ye. He’s yer’s again. It good to have ye back.”
“It’s good to be back,” Case slapped the young man on the shoulder. And it’ll be fucking marvelous once Whitby’s dead and Elizabeth is safe.
Napoleon remembered Case and whinnied happily. He mounted up and Patrick, Ann and Mary waved him off, hope in their faces. Case gritted his teeth and vowed not to let them down.
St. Peter’s church in Lynchburg now assumed a sinister air. He left Napoleon tied up outside and slowly entered the church. No sign of any priest. No sign of anyone. He turned left into the nave and slowly made his way to the stone slab in the floor. It was open, the carpet thrown aside, which surprised him, but then he reckoned Whitby would know somehow that he was here. The man was crazed enough to mount a daily watch and know when he did return.
The steps down into the crypt seemed to pull him in, and he reluctantly reached bottom and looked around. Death was present, but not new. He pulled a face at the sight of a swinging corpse on a chain hung from the ceiling. The man was dressed in black. He’d never seen him before.
“Man by the name of Fulton,” a voice echoed menacingly.
Case looked to the end of the chamber where the door stood, now ajar. Whitby slowly advanced towards him, a gun in his one good hand. “So we meet again, Longinus.”
“What did you call me?”
“Casca Rufio Longinus. Roman soldier.” Whitby giggled. “A fucking ROMAN! Well shit. My first Roman.”
Case looked at the corpse of Fulton. “Who was he?”
“One of Izram’s disciples. He and Lynch told me all about you. Those two planned to do me in before I could get even with you, you bastard. They both had to die.” Whitby had a straggling beard growing from his cheeks and chin. He didn’t look entirely sane. “This one took a long time and he told me everything.”
“Where’s Elizabeth?” Case had had enough of this.
“In there. But you ain’t gonna see her you bastard. You’re gonna die, and then die again and again and again. Every day! I’ll kill you and when you recover I’ll kill you again. See? I’m gonna do this every day of my life!” He stared at Case through red-rimmed eyes. “You ruined my fucking life, and I’m gonna ruin yours. That bitch in there’s gonna satisfy my other needs, I’ve been saving it for you to watch! Every time I shoot you I’m gonna take her. Every day! A bastard to kill and a bitch to screw. You bastard!” Whitby’s mouth worked. His finger twitched round the pistol.
“I’ve come across some mad types before Whitby, but you’re just about the craziest.” Case felt sick to his stomach. How could it be that such perverted types could get on in life? They needed to be put down like the mad dogs they were.
“Shut up! After I shoot you I’ll slit your guts open with this!” Whitby waved his hook in Case’s face. “Then I’ll watch as it repairs itself. I might get the bitch to watch too!”
“Oh for Chrissakes she’s only thirteen! Let her be.”
Whitby swore and swore and swore. He was still swearing when Case dived to his left and grabbed the grisly remains of Fulton. A hammer blow smashed into his arm as the pistol roared, but he was still a going concern and now he had a swinging weight in his hands. He launched Fulton at Whitby and the corpse crashed into the shrieking man, sending him staggering across the chamber. Case was on him like a bull in the arena. One punch took Whitby out and the man lay spread-eagled on the cold stone floor.
He took the gun and pocketed it. Leaving the still form of Whitby he went into the room. Elizabeth was chained to one wall, wild eyed and sobbing. She emitted a squeak of fear as he came in, and he saw she’d not been released from that position for weeks. Not even to relieve herself. Case shook his head. “Elizabeth, it’s me. Case.”
She stared at him and began shaking, crying louder. He examined the manacles and returned to Whitby. A quick search revealed a key and he used it to unlock the girl from her chains. The girl threw her arms round his neck and nothing would prize them free. He picked her up, grimacing in pain from his wound, and walked back into the main chamber and at the sight of Whitby Elizabeth began shaking again. “Easy, easy. Just going to make sure he never hurts you again. Close your eyes.”
She shut her eyes as Case placed a foot on Whitby’s throat. He leaned harder and harder, and eventually he felt something give. “It’s okay now sweetheart. Let’s take you home. That evil man will never trouble you again. Ever. Okay?”
Elizabeth nodded, her eyes never leaving Case’s face. He ascended the steps and left the slab open. About time the priest here knew about the crypt. The sheriff would have his hands full but what the hell? The McGuires would give him a cast-iron alibi and nobody would lament the passing of Whitby.
As they reached the open air Elizabeth did something Case had never seen her do before.
he smiled. At him.
Continuing Casca’s adventures, book 26 Johnny Reb
Civil War breaks out and Casca becomes entangled in the struggle between the North and South.
Taking the Rebel side he fights for a free Virginia, as well as for the woman he loves. But soon he finds molding a bunch of raw recruits into a fighting force is more of a struggle than he had realized. And soon he finds himself fighting not only the Northern Army, but also one of his own men that is intent on killing him. And there is an unseen but deadly familiar enemy close at hand who will stop at nothing to kill those dear to him and imprison him for all eternity!
For more information on the entire Casca series see www.casca.net
The Barry Sadler website www
.barrysadler.com