No Absolution

by N. M. Bell

  “Wait up, man.” Alf drew even with him panting from the exertion of keeping up with Jake’s long strides.

  “Got work to do. Either keep up wi’ me or get there in yer own time.” Jake never slowed and hid a grin as the man laboured to stay even with him.

  When he turned the corner onto the Minories there was a mob outside Fleischer’s shop. A group of women milled about with their shawls pulled over their head wiping tears from their sunken cheeks. Men stood smoking and casting glances into the shop where four bobbies were gathered by the counter. Naked fear shone in the faces of the gathered women and it warmed Jake’s heart to see it. Maybe now the stupid whores would stay at home where they belonged at night. He’d a lesson to teach them, so he did, if they chose to stray out into the streets.

  “Make way, there. Comin’ through.” Jake pushed his way through the throng with Alf following in his wake.

  The man stopped dead and gave a strangled cry when he came near enough to see the macabre items on the counter.

  “Amy, Amy…” he wailed dropping to his knees.

  “Aye, it’s a tough one, Alf.” Heinz struggled to lift the man to his feet. “Aggie is dead sure the ring is Amy’s, but the p’lice need you to say so, too.”

  Alf sagged in the butcher’s grasp and shook with silent sobs. Tears and snot slid down his weathered face and splattered on the floor. Jake glanced about for Aggie and ground his teeth at the sight of her clinging to the blond giant. He slipped through the crowd infiltrating the shop and made his way past the butcher block to the small room at the rear. It didn’t seem likely much work would get done today. No point in slaughtering an animal and having the meat go to waste. The auld man would be tied up most of the morning with the aftermath of the excitement and there were still two sides of beef hanging waiting for the man to butcher. The new man was next to useless and would be no help. Jake removed the stiff apron and adjusted himself more comfortably in his trousers before pushing through the mob to have a word with Heinz.

  Relieved of any obligation to work that day, Jake wandered down to the Star for a pint. While he nursed the jar he wondered idly how long it would take someone to find the presents he left in the basement over on the Victoria Embankment. He couldn’t stop the wicked grin spreading over his face. What a great bit of jolly, leaving her parts in the basement of the New Scotland Yard. The bleeding berks, so far they’d missed every clue left for them. For the love of God, he’d washed his hands in the basin at Miller’s Court just seconds before the patrolman checked it. If he’d looked, the bastard would have seen him in the shadows of the stairwell. What useless arseholes they were.

  The morning wore on and as the noon hour approached the small bar room filled up with workers grabbing a bite and the appearance of the denizens of the rubbish choked alleys and closes who were just surfacing after a night of drunkenness. Though the weather outside was chill with a sharp wind coming up the Thames and slithering its way into the ill-fitted gaps and crevices of the neighbourhood, the atmosphere in the Star developed an eye watering pong. Cigarette smoke, both fresh and stale, combined with the fugue of unwashed bodies overlaid by a penetrating odour of spew and piss.

  Jake stared at the dregs in the half pint in front of him. He blinked and frowned in an attempt to bring things into focus. A slap on the shoulder sent him spinning about with fists clenched ready for a barney.

  “Jake, ye berk, easy on. It’s just me.” Dick took a step back.

  “Ye put the heart across me, so ya did, ye eejit,” Jake slipped into Mam’s broken English when he was bladdered.

  “A half here, Eldon.” Dick cocked an eyebrow at the barkeep and pointed at the sticky bar in front of him. “Did’ye hear Amy’s missin’? Elsie stopped in for to git some organ meat and Aggie was in a right state. All the women are bletherin’ about it on the street. The ball and chain’s so crazed over it there were no chance of a bit of a bite for me to home, so here I am.”

  Eldon slapped a mug by Dick’s elbow and scooped up the coin from the puddle of spilled drink. “Ta.” Dick thanked the man.

  “Aye, I was workin’ when Aggie found the package. Sent me off to tell Alf so they did.” Jake took a long pull of his ale.

  “Cor! Are ye jivin’ me, Jake me lad? How’d the auld souse take it?” Dick leaned forward his eyes gleaming.

  “He were pretty broke up. But that mate of his was cold as a witch’s tit. From the gist of the convo, sounded like Alf owes the bloke a lot of do-rei-me and was lettin’ ‘im roger the bint to pays it orf.” Jake spat on the floor.

  “I guessed somethin’ of the sort from what the wife’s been bleating about,” Dick agreed and scratched his scalp under the cap.

  “They ain’t found no trace of the girl, so mebbe it ain’t what it seems.” Jake studied his mate out of the corner of his eye as he took another swallow of ale.

  “Still an’ all, man. Aggie swears the ring she found is the one the girl was wearin’ last night,” Dick said. “D’ye s’pose it was the fiend strikin’ again? It inint all over the papers like the bleeder’s other victims.”

  Jake nodded sagely. “Guess the Peelers wan’ ta keep a lid on this ‘un. Worried about vigilante mobs roamin’ the streets, so I heered.”

  Dick clenched his fist and pounded the bar. “I’d skin the bastard alive, rip off ‘is arm and feed it to ‘im, I would. If he touched a hair on my auld one’s head.”

  “I’m sure ye’ve got nothin’ to worry about, mate,” Jake assured him. “Just keep yer woman off the streets and home where she belongs.”

  * * *

  His cheek stuck to the gummy film coating the bar when Jake lifted his head. He blinked blearily and knocked the empty pint over as he struggled upright.

  “Time ye was getting’ on home, chum,” Eldon suggested as he retrieved the chipped mug from the puddle of ale.

  “Aye, ya, s‘pose ye be right,” Jake agreed. He pushed away from the bar and stood wavering for a moment before shuffling to the door. The chill damp of the night revived his sense a bit. The bong of bells marking the hour told him it was nine o’clock, the sound reverberating painfully in his skull. He moved a few feet down the street before loosening his buttons and pissing into the gutter. Tucking himself in and buttoning his flies, Jake set off toward his lodgings. The next time he lifted his head to get better bearings he stopped dead and shook his head in befuddlement. What in the hell was he doing standing in front of the bloody butcher shop? He must have been wandering in circles instead of making his way to Dorset Street. “Damn me,” he cursed. The pleasant alcohol-induced fuzziness was starting to wear off and his guts roiled uncomfortably. A fine drizzle added to the unpleasantness and the foetid wind blew the thin mist into his face and down the collar of his shirt. It wasn’t a fit night out for man ‘nor beast. A shadow crossing the dim lamp light in the rooms above the shop pulled his attention upward. The broad shoulders of the young German stood out in clear silhouette against the flimsy curtain. Pure hatred speared through Jake. He couldn’t be allowed to get so near to Aggie. Lay his hands on her virgin flesh and desecrate her purity. Jake swallowed the bile that crawled up from his gullet at the mere thought.

  He stood staring at the lit window until the increasing downpour drove him on. Jake hunched deeper into his jacket and pulled the bill of the cap lower over his forehead. Jamming his hands into his pockets he made his unsteady way toward Miller’s Court. The discomfort of the cold and damp served to sober him up and his thoughts circled around Horst. What was the best way to get the beggar out of the shop, and more importantly, out of Aggie’s life? The auld man doted on the bleeder, wouldn’t hear a bad word about the bloody man. Even Aggie seemed to be besotted with his blond good looks. Could he mebbe remove some of the day’s takings from the cash box and pin the blame on the young giant? Jake quickly discarded the idea. He had no business in the front of the shop itself, no reason to be anywhere near the cash box. At any rate, Aggie often kept the bills and coins in her apron pocket.
No chance to lift anything from there, although his penis twitched at the image of his hand delving in the apron pocket and brushing the woman’s private parts in the process.

  Savagely tamping down the jolt of lust, Jake considered the options open to him. He grunted in frustration and kicked at the legs of a drunk lying sprawled across the cobbles. Heaving a sigh of relief, Jake turned into the archway of Miller’s Court and shoved into his room. The fire was out and the place was dark and dank. Small rivulets of rain water mixed with sewage seeped under the ill-fitted door and spread across the floor. He should have stayed in the upper room above this one, but the auld biddy next door was too nosy by a long shot. Plus that bashtoon McCarthy wanted more brass for the upper room. Better view, the arsehole claimed. Jake snorted in disgust. The rising wind whistled through the cracks around the window and the gap under the door. He picked up a ragged bit of blanket and shoved it under the door blocking out the worst of the whine.

  A curse passed his lips as his fumbling fingers broke the match he was trying to light. Finally, the tiny flame leapt to life and he held it to the lamp wick, guarding it with his body so it wouldn’t gutter out before the wick lit. Jake snatched a piece of newspaper, careful that it wasn’t one that had a story about him printed on it. Twisting it tightly into an improvised taper he held it to the lamp flame and then used it to bring the fire in the hearth back to life. He added a few broken bits of coal and shoved his chilled hands toward the feeble warmth.

  The flames gathered strength and sent flickering shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling, twining about the patches of damp and mildew that festooned them. Jake sank back onto his heels, still pondering what to do about Horst and allowing the shadows to mesmerise him. By God, I’m tired. Tired of living in this hellhole and sick to death of the fecking rain. If it ain’t raining, it’s just stopped or just about to start. I should hop a cattle transport and try me luck in New York. As quickly as the thought came to him, Jake dismissed it. He was called to carry out the Lord’s work and he couldn’t abandon that without losing his immortal soul. Not to mention the fact that Father would give him no rest. Ever. He blinked. Horst’s face shimmered in the orange-gold patterns in the hearth. A long dark shadow rose from the bed of coals and pierced the vision like a spear. It hovered for a moment before the man’s face crumpled into the ashes.

  A sending. That’s what Mam would have called it. The Lord was giving him the answer to his prayers. It was as clear as the nose on his face. The only way to remove the blond giant from Aggie’s life was to kill him. Hadn’t the Lord just sent the message that it was what He wanted? His will be done … on Earth as it is in Heaven….

  * * *

  Jake paused in the act of sharpening the long thin killing knife, his hands stilling as the blade caressed the whet stone. Frustration curled his upper lip. Blocking out the complaints of the steers waiting in the yard outside the door, he concentrated on the problem at hand. He had a God sent solution to the Horst problem, now all that was needed was a plan. His hands resumed their interrupted task. The steely rasp of metal on stone soothed his agitation and lulled him into a semi-somnolent state. How, how, how…. The thought chanted in his brain. Jack sorted through his options, considering the points before laying them aside to contemplate the next one. He flicked through them like a deck of cards, viewing an idea and then flipping it over to go to the next. How, how, how…. The man was seldom far from Aggie’s side and almost never alone. Sighing, Jake rose from where he hunkered down leaning against the wall and laid the whet stone aside. Shoving the sharpened knife into the holder on his belt he nodded to the urchin in the yard to send the next steer in. Grasping the poleaxe he put all the weight of his frustration behind the blow and grunted with satisfaction as the beast dropped at his feet. The killing blade slid free and Jake lost himself in the coppery scent of spilled blood and the captivating sight of life fleeing from the body. The Druids used to tell auguries by the spill of blood and the pattern of entrails thrown on the ground. He remembered Mam telling him the old stories. Jake paused with a handful of intestines in his fist and wondered if he could find the answers he sought by doing that. After a minute he dismissed the idea and set the intestines in a heap to be emptied and cleaned later for sausage casing.

  Jake rubbed the ache in his back as he straightened up from over the corpse for the last time that day. Christ, he hated this job. Dank and cold from the chill wind that persisted in blowing in the open door and it wasn’t like his skills were appreciated as they should be. He should dump the whole thing. Just go out to the front of the shop and quit; walk out and never darken the doorstep again. Blimey, that were exactly what he should do. Determined to carry out his plan, Jake gathered up his tools and for once jammed the knives into their coverings without cleaning them. He shoved the cloth cap down on his head and threw the jacket over his shoulder. The canvas apron he left in a steaming pile of offal. Threading his way toward the butcher block that stood behind the counter Jake allowed his frustration to rule his thoughts. The rumble of voices told him that Heinz was showing Horst the finer points of butchering. The lilt of Aggie’s voice responding to something her father said slowed his steps. Aggie. If Jake took off who would keep her from being ravaged by the German? He hesitated in the shadows, indecision warring with his fervent wish to rid of the place. The bit of do-rei-me he got from the work wasn’t an issue, there was still enough of Father’s legacy to see him through for a bit. The woman was the only thing tying him to this place and the stinking job.

  Aggie chose that moment to glance up and catch Jake’s eye.

  “Done for the day, are ye?” Her face lit up with a smile and a weak beam of sunlight managed to sneak into the shop and turn her hair to gold.

  Jake scowled and shuffled his feet. Could he leave her to the blonde giant’s clutches? How could he abandon such an innocent? Surely the good Lord had placed him here in order for him to guard her.

  “Something wrong, Jake?” Heinz moved forward and blocked Aggie from Jake’s sight.

  He opened his mouth but his tongue refused to form the words. Finally he shook his head and moved to the counter. Aggie produced his pay packet from her apron pocket and handed it to him. Jake imagined her fingers lingered on his a moment longer than was necessary. Smiling, he left the shop by the front entrance. The ray of sunlight was a sign direct from God. He was sure of it. Horst’s fate was sealed. All Jake had to do was figure out when and where.

  Chapter Ten

  Jake’s hand stilled in the act of eviscerating the steer lying sprawled on the stone floor. Is that Aggie whinging? A female voice raised in anger infiltrated the slaughter room with a deeper male voice in counterpoint. The auld man and the daughter never slagged each other. Hope reared in his chest. Mayhap the woman had seen the light and was giving the German his walking papers. Leaving the work unfinished, Jake slipped through the shadows of the shop until the source of the argument was in his sight. Tears stained Aggie’s face and her lips twisted in an unbecoming manner. Heinz and Horst stood facing her, Heinz with a supporting hand on her arm.

  “It’s only for a short while, liebchen.” Horst took a step toward the sobbing woman.

  She recoiled and separated herself from the men with the butcher block. “So ye say, now. Yer plannin’ on harin’ off to the continent and leaving me here, up the post. Ye’ve never made anything official like and now yer tellin’ me yer off to Munich.” Her voice trembled.

  Jake missed the German’s reply as her words reverberated in his head. “Up the post … up the post … up the post…” Surely that didn’t mean what he thought it meant? The idiot woman couldn’t be knapped could she? The bashtoon must have gammoned her into lifting her skirts and allowing him to defile her. The faces of the combatants blurred into red smudges. His fury roared silently, the fingers of both hands curled into tight fists. The pounding of the blood in his ears blocked out the quarrel continuing to rage.

  “Get aholt of yourself, Jacob!” Father’s v
oice sliced through Jake’s incoherent thoughts. “Listen, you young idiot, this might be your chance to remove the guttersnipe. Listen.”

  In obedience to Father’s command, Jake forced his attention back to the conversation by the butcher block. Heinz was standing over the young German, his cleaver raised as if to strike and black rage contorted his florid features. Aggie sobbed into her apron standing as far away from the two men as was possible in the small shop.

  “Ye’ll no be going anywhere ‘til ye make an honest woman of the daughter,” he snarled the words, punctuated by harsh indrawn breaths. “I should unman ye here and now, so I should. Public knowledge or no, ye have an agreement wi’ me and by Gott you will honour it.”

  “She was more than willing. I never forced her to anything,” Horst attempted to reason with the enraged father. The blue eyes in the white face were fastened on the upraised cleaver trembling in the beefy butcher’s hand.

  “Shut yer gob,” the big man roared.

  A woman with two weans stepped up to the counter and hesitated. “I be wantin’ some organ meat, Aggie. I’d come back after but my man’s in a temper, so he is…”

  Aggie wiped the remains of her tears on the apron and smoothed the long folds over her hips. “Aye, don’t trouble yerself, Sal. I’ve some ready and wrapped.” She handed the woman the parcel and tucked the proffered coins into a pocket.

  Sal nodded and backed out of the shop clutching the toddler’s hand and holding the baby tight to her chest.