Peregrine Harker & the Black Death

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Peregrine Harker & the Black Death Page 12

by Luke Hollands


  “One cold winter’s evening, Khan and my brother met in a mountain tavern in the Hindu Kush. Khan told him the story of the ill-gotten treasure of the Black Death. That night Magnus made a pact with Khan. If Khan helped him exact revenge on me, then he would help Khan steal the booty, and they would share the spoils. But how were they to go about their dastardly plan?

  “It was when the pair fell in with a despicable German trader by the name of Melk that they settled on an idea. Ah, I see Melk is another name familiar to you. Well, Melk may have appeared to be a respectable trader but in reality he was little more than a common smuggler. Guns were his speciality and he had no qualms dealing them to the most disreputable of heathens. This was the final piece in the jigsaw of my brother’s plan.

  “First Khan would make contact with his comrades in the Brotherhood. He would offer them Melk’s guns in return for their treasure. He would also offer them something else as an incentive for their troubles. A British fort and all its spoils. You can guess what British fort it was? It was the one I commanded. Following the attack Magnus decided he would either kill me or have me thrown into the darkest dungeon, leaving him with his hands on the untold wealth of the Brotherhood and the woman he truly loved. Revenge, wealth and glory all in one easy move. Khan would take a share of the booty and so would Melk, but only after he had made arrangements for Magnus’s gold to be smuggled to England so he could build a new life with his beloved as a man of wealth and standing.

  “I, of course, knew nothing of this and so when Magnus wrote to me, saying he wanted to visit and make amends I agreed and prepared a vast feast in his honour. Little did I know that while we were supping on mutton and wine, outside in the darkness the Brotherhood of the Black Night were gathering and waiting to attack. They were waiting for the fortress doors to be opened and the sentry guards to be dealt with. Magnus made short work of this between the main course and pudding. An hour or so later the Brotherhood was storming the fort. They were bloodthirsty and merciless. I had only one thought in my mind, defending my family, but I was not to be successful. Kitty was killed, protecting our infant daughter, who by a chance of luck, was ignored by the bandits. Magnus was consumed with grief at Kitty’s death and took the child and fled. I was brutally mauled in the attack, and was left for dead by both the bandits and my brother. I may well have died, for inside my heart was broken, the pain of this loss almost too much to bear. When my superior officers heard of the assault on the fort they offered me no compassion. In fact their attitude was quite the opposite. They knew nothing of Magnus’s dastardly actions. All they saw was a colossal dereliction of duty and sent me to the deepest darkest dungeon to rot.

  “It was in that vile cell I settled on a plan of retribution. I would seek out the three men who had wronged me and kill them for their treachery. As the hunting and destroying of my enemies was a powerful symbol of vengeance and rebirth, I set on the idea of a powerful symbolic method of murder. I decided each corpse would be labelled with the mark of the Brotherhood. You see each Hindu god has their own Yantra, or symbol. The Kali Yantra is an upturned triangle, set inside a circle, set inside a square. By labelling the corpses with this mark I endeavoured to strike fear into the hearts of the survivors. The means of murder would also be symbolic. I would kill each of them with a deadly handshake, a method used by the Brotherhood, where they would conceal a poison-soaked thorn in the palm of a glove and inject their unsuspecting victims. After much deliberation I alighted on the poison I would use: the poison aconite. It is common in Northern India and is thought by men of science to be the most toxic substance on earth. I first came across it while talking with a fellow prisoner. After some bargaining I managed to obtain a bottle of the evil brew. I deduced that if I took a small but safe amount it would make me appear dead. This is exactly what I did and the plan worked perfectly. The prison guards removed my lifeless body from the cell and cast it into a shallow grave beyond the prison walls.

  “With my old identity gone I set about choosing a new one. I had once met a Raja of a tiny deserted province in Northern India. This chap had no subjects, a palace far too remote and derelict to bother visiting and no proof of his lineage. But his title gave him respect and power, so I stole it for my own purposes. Then I set about hunting my prey.

  “Khan had not used his share of the loot wisely. He gambled away nearly every penny, saving just enough to travel to England to plead for more ill-gotten gains from his master.

  “Melk had used his share of the treasure well. He had bought lands in Austria and a castle, where he had appointed himself a baron. He gained invitations to all the courts of Europe and was said to have the ear of emperors and kings alike, which certainly helped him sell more guns than he had ever dreamed of.

  “Finally, my brother Magnus was now a man of some standing. He had used his share of the Brotherhood’s booty wisely. First he had used his fortune to wipe away any trace of his humble upbringing, this included any mention of his brother, who he was happy to think of languishing in prison. Secondly he had brought property and thirdly he had invested wisely in business. It was not long before he was a very respectable, very influential, and a very wealthy gentleman. He was the toast of the town, and even more so for the delightful woman who was always on his arm. This woman was not his wife, but the infant he had taken from the burning fortress in India. She had grown up quickly and become a very beautiful young lady.” Richard paused and turned to Louisa. “She, of course, is you, my dear.”

  Louisa had been holding my hand tightly throughout this story, as if somehow she knew how it would end. As soon as Richard revealed himself as her father her hands shot to her face. She rushed forward towards the bars.

  “Whatever happens, my dear, my brother has failed. For I have found you, I have found you at long last,” whispered Richard.

  Louisa bowed her head and leant against the bars. Her father reached a hand through to console his daughter. But there was no time for further explanation as we were interrupted by a sneering voice behind us.

  “Have you quite finished your sorry little tale?”

  I jumped to my feet to find Sir Magnus and Vaughan Grey standing at the foot of the staircase.

  29. Despicable errands

  Sir Magnus had a revolver pointing straight at us. Louisa rose to her feet, and for a second I thought she was about to charge at them, but she held steady, her face red with sadness and rage.

  “Why?” she mouthed bitterly, her eyes burning and flashing.

  “Well, perhaps before I kill the meddling Mr Harker and my bothersome brother, I should add something of my own version of events. I did indeed come into a rather large fortune in India. I have spent the intervening years transporting that booty back to London a little at a time. I was afraid if I tried to move it all at once I would have to answer some rather inconvenient questions. And so I established Indus Star, my importation business. It was the perfect cover for transporting my ill-gotten gains. Unfortunately, the Royal Navy, and the customs men recently started to catch on to my little scheme, and so I was forced to move forward my transport of the remaining supplies of gold. My tastes have become rather more expensive since returning to London and so it seemed an almost timely intervention.

  “But how to smuggle the large amounts of loot into Britain? Eventually I settled on the idea of coffins. In my line of work sailors often die at sea. My ships usually have a coffin or two on board, and they are never searched by customs. The trouble was I needed to transport so much gold, I needed a large number of coffins, hence the lack of space for tea and the rise in prices. When the customs men decided to investigate it was easy to play the poor unsuspecting upper-class owner, with no knowledge of his business affairs. The plan would have been concluded by now, and all the remaining Indian gold been in my possession, had my brother not returned from the dead to ruin my life once again. I saw through his weak disguise, of course, and was all set to destroy him for good until Mr Harker here became involved. A merry b
and of meddlers was forming. It was most tiresome, and I vowed to rid myself of you all.

  “At times I thought my brother would destroy Harker for me, for it was he who dished out the beatings at the Pickled Starfish and the Oriental Club, along with the carriage chase after the death of Melk and even the viper in the bedroom. You see, Mr Harker; Richard thought you were working for me. Didn‘t you, oh brother of mine?

  “I’m sorry, Peregrine,” said Richard, hanging his head. “It is true, please forgive me.”

  “Well I never could trust my brother to do anything so I decided to remove Mr Harker from my affairs myself before going on to tackle my brother. I engaged certain colleagues to destroy Mr Harker, namely Mr Grey here and the deceitful Mr Woolfe, who has now disappeared, the cowardly dog.

  “All those ridiculous errands I dispatched you on. They were all for the express purpose of ruining your life and stopping you meddling in my affairs. What is more you were doing my despicable errands for me. You were covering my trail of deceit quite admirably and at the same time implicating yourself in my illegal affairs. The destruction of the office in Wapping was my idea, it was meant to remove not only certain discrepancies in shipments but also you. After you escaped that nasty jar I thought I would use my contacts in East London to finish you off, but when you escaped from the boxing ring you escaped from the jaws of death yet again.

  “After that attempt failed I was handed an even better means of ruining you when Louisa disappeared. It allowed me to concoct a story implicating you in her kidnap and then have the French authorities consign you back to my clutches, where I would deliver you to the gallows. Things may not have gone exactly to plan, but you are here, and there is still plenty of time. First, however, we have a happier matter to take care of. You see Mr Grey here has been most useful in aiding me in my affairs, but his services have come at a cost, that cost being my daughter.”

  At this Louisa stood and turned to confront Sir Magnus. Her eyes burned with violent anger.

  “Come, come, my dear,” he said haughtily, “I am not a monster, I am not going to cast you over to him in some improper fashion. No, I am going to give you to him officially, all legal and above board. You see this very evening I am going to give him your hand in marriage.”

  I saw Louisa swoon. She fell backwards and grabbed the bars behind her.

  “You swine,” shouted Richard. “You’ll never get away with this.”

  “Now, now, brother, behave yourself. As the father of the bride I will expect you to have a little more decorum at your daughter’s wedding. And I most definitely will get away with it. Once I have humiliated you by marrying your daughter to Mr Grey, I will, finally, kill you and Harker. It will be my wedding present to Mr Grey, who does hate you both so.”

  At this Louisa began to cry. The tears rolled uncontrollably down her cheeks.

  “Now then there’s no time for blubbing, Louisa,” said Sir Magnus. At this rate we’ll be late for your wedding.”

  30. A dance of death

  Grey, with a smug grin on his face, demanded my revolver, before handing it to Sir Magnus. He then went to drag Louisa away from her newly-found father. The poor girl resisted, tears filling her eyes, desperate to not lose contact with the man she had until moments before not known existed. As soon as that grinning fiend put a finger on her I made a move to make him wish he hadn’t, but he turned sharply and brought his gun up.

  “I really think you should do as you are told, Peregrine old love, you never know who might get shot.” And with that he grabbed Louisa, hauled her up and pointed his gun at her temple. “You wouldn’t want a chap to be deprived of his bride, would you? Now show some cheer, Harker; it may be your funeral but it is my wedding.”

  Sir Magnus unlocked the bars imprisoning his brother and ushered him out, my revolver pointing at his breast. Richard was hobbling, probably due to his past injuries and his confinement in that dirty stinking hole. A thought suddenly sprung to mind. As Louisa had been dragged to her feet, she had let go of her sword stick. I knelt to pick up the innocuous looking baton. Grey stopped me.

  “Steady on, old boy. What could you possibly want with that? Think you’re going to beat me with it, do you?”

  “If only,” I replied. “But perhaps even you would permit this old man some aid to walk. He can hardly stand so I do not suppose a stick will be much of a threat.”

  Grey looked at me suspiciously before glancing over at Sir Magnus. He appeared to consider the idea before briefly nodding his acceptance. I bent down slowly, picked up the stick and placed it in Richard’s hands. He took it gladly and, as he did, I let slip a wry smile. I could tell from his face it had not gone unnoticed.

  “Now, if we are all quite ready,” said Sir Magnus sarcastically, “it is high time we were leaving.”

  The three of us were marched up the spiral staircase, Louisa dragged first, Grey still holding a gun to her head. Then it was out into the cold night air and into the back of a carriage. And so we found ourselves heading to a church for what would surely be the most queer marriage of the new century. Grey sat on top of the carriage, in charge of the horses, while Sir Magnus joined us inside, my revolver in his hand and pointed at Louisa.

  Not a word was exchanged during our journey. I was too busy trying to plan an escape, while Louisa, her face red and tear-stained, had sunk into a sad silence. Richard, on the other hand, seemed neither angry nor sad. He, in fact, had quite a calm look about him. There was clearly something passing through his mind. Could it be he had his own insurance plan? But there was no time to consider what it may be, for we were arriving at our destination.

  As the carriage stopped Sir Magnus rose and motioned with his gun for us to climb out. We did so very reluctantly. The small church in front of us was surrounded by a graveyard. Snowflakes had begun to fall from the sky, covering everything before us with a light icing sugar dusting of white. Louisa was dragged up the icy steps of the ancient building and through a pair of solid wooden doors, braced and studded with iron. Richard and I were forced along too. The small church was lit with candle light. Despite the gloom I spied a figure standing at the altar. It was an extremely shabby looking vicar. As we approached I heard him hiccup. He looked more than a little tipsy.

  “Ah, I was wondering when you would arrive? All is ready,” said the clergyman, slurring slightly. He looked a wily old sort and smelled of drink.

  “Splendid,” cried Sir Magnus turning to me, “my vicar friend here has been helping hide some gold-stuffed coffins for me. I thought he might agree to perform the ceremony, for a price.” At this he handed the vicar a hip flask containing something that smelled highly alcoholic. The vicar took a large slug and wiped his lips.

  “Right then let us begin,” said Sir Magnus. “You don’t mind if we skip the dull formalities, my dear Louisa? For I’m dying to get on with killing your father.” At this he dragged the poor girl to the front of the aisle.

  “Now then, vicar; let us jump straight to the business part of the proceedings.” He turned to Grey. “This is the point where you say I do, old boy.” Grey dutifully agreed.

  “Now then, Louisa; your turn, my dear.”

  Louisa had a look of complete disdain on her face, she suddenly wrenched free a hand and turned and slapped the man she had once called her father. Sir Magnus wrestled her back in his grasp, and smiled: “I’ll take that as a yes. Right, there we are then, vicar, this is the point where you say, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife’.”

  The vicar, after some further dithering and hand wringing did as he was told, but it proved to be the last act he would ever perform.

  “I’m afraid it is time for our religious friend here to leave, his usefulness has come to an end,” said Sir Magnus as gleefully as a naughty schoolboy. “Don‘t worry, Reverend, we‘ll make sure the register is signed and all the paperwork taken care of.”

  The vicar, suddenly guessing his fate, decided to make a quick break for it, but the sorry-looking chap only ma
de it a few steps before the crack of a gun shot stopped him in his tracks. His face contorted into a horrible grimace before he fell to the floor dead. A thin wisp of smoke curled upwards from Grey’s gun.

  “For God’s sake, Magnus, have you not had your fill of killing? This has to stop,” bellowed Richard.

  “Ah Richard, I had almost forgotten about you, my dear chap,” Sir Magnus replied. “You are quite right, the killing does have to stop, but only after I have dealt with you. Now, you’ve witnessed your daughter marrying a vile depraved murderer, it’s time for us to settle something we should have ended a long time ago.” He was pulling on a pair of calf-skin leather gloves as he spoke. Once he had slipped them on he waved his hand at Grey, who presented him with a long rectangular case about three feet in length. “Now, Richard, you may not know it, but that stick Mr Harker passed you earlier has a certain sting in its tail, or perhaps I should say a blade.” He turned to look at me. “Yes, Mr Harker; I know it is a sword stick, I’m not a fool. In fact you have been most helpful. I allowed Richard to keep it, as it will serve a rather useful purpose.

  “After everything we have been through my dear Richard I could not kill you in cold blood, perhaps a duel to the death would be more appropriate.” He opened the case in front of him and took out a fine looking sabre. This would be sheer murder. Richard would have no chance with the feeble blade of the sword stick. It was certain to be a very unfair fight. Nevertheless Richard was only too eager to take on the challenge. Looking at the stick as if it was his salvation he slowly drew the blade, reflecting the flickering church candles and sending rays of light about our hallowed surroundings. He drew his thumb along the blade, testing the quality and the effectiveness of the cutting edge. Surely he must know how useless a tool it would be in a battle against a cavalry sabre? He appeared to have no doubts and was carrying on regardless, discarding the stick that had acted as a scabbard and moving his body into the en garde position.

 

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