“Malphas?”
“I can tell from your tone, Wild Boy, that you recognize this name. Malphas is, according to mythology, a Prince of Hell. A hideous creature that tortures victims with their darkest memories. He is known, too, as the Destroyer of Cities. Dahlquist believed that Malphas had sent him to that mine to seek its heart. A black diamond.
“He hired guards and forced the villagers to work as slaves. His rules were simple. Whomever among them found a black diamond was promised freedom and a fortune. Whomever did not, within a year, would be killed.”
“No, he can’t do that.”
“He did do it, Miss Everett. No one was exempt. Not women, not children. Dahlquist paid the guards with whatever other diamonds the mine yielded, so naturally they drove the villagers mercilessly. No shade, no water, no rest. Many of those poor souls died of exhaustion or dehydration. Others, of despair. Bones showed through their skin. Their hands were raw with blood and blisters from the pick. They lay on the rocks for just a few hours each night, but few could sleep because of the agony in their limbs.”
“But how could he do that?”
“Because, Wild Boy, those lives mattered little to him.”
“Did the villagers find a black diamond?”
“Yes, after nine months one of them did. It was unquestionably the largest and most perfect example ever found: over three thousand carats. Dahlquist had it cut quickly and crudely by a jeweller in Golkonda, but even in that primitive state it was by far the most valuable gemstone in the world. He gave the stone a name, too – the Black Terror.”
“Terror?”
“What did he do with it?”
“Ah! Now that is the question, Miss Everett. The stone became the heart of a statue of Malphas that stood in his cave. A hideous creature, half man, half crow. Dahlquist believed that the stone was the very soul of the demon it lived inside.”
“What about the villagers? Were they freed?”
“No. For the villagers of Kollur, things grew even worse. From that day, Lord Dahlquist had them brought to him, one villager each night, and he sacrificed them to his demon. It was nothing short of a massacre. The floor of the cave sloped to an underground stream, so the blood flowed away. I am told it came out along the valley in a waterfall the colour of rubies. Also, that Dahlquist forced his poor young son to watch the executions. A truly devoted father.”
“That blackguard.”
“That is putting it mildly, Mr Gideon.”
“Please tell me there’s a happy ending.”
“Miss Everett, I cannot. There was at least some satisfaction for those villagers. It came from the man who found the Black Terror, a young man named Sameer. You see, for all his evil, Lord Dahlquist regarded himself as a man of honour, and he kept his promise. He granted Sameer his freedom and a fortune. First he tortured him for several days, disfiguring him to such an extent that no one would approach him, let alone listen to his tale. But Dahlquist underestimated the strength of one man’s determination for justice. Spencer? Spencer, you must hold my hand. Ah, there you are. Now, where was I?”
“Sameer…”
“Yes, Sameer, thank you, Mr Gideon. Once he had recovered, that remarkable young man carried his new fortune in a bag. He used a small amount to pay for his passage to Calcutta, and the rest to secure a meeting with the Governor General of India. At that time the Governor General was Lord William Cavendish Bentick.”
“Lord Bentick?”
“I sense that name also means something to you, Wild Boy.”
“His wife was killed by the same thing that infected our friend. The terror.”
“Yes, yes, that makes sense, as you will see. Lord Bentick himself passed away four years ago. As Governor General, he was charged with the task of balancing the British government’s books in India. The man was obsessed with milking profit from the country. I heard that he considered demolishing the Taj Mahal to sell the marble. But I am told that he was a decent man. I would like to think that was why he sent soldiers to rescue those villagers, and not because he recognized the value of the black diamond that Sameer had described. But I cannot say for sure. I do know that the battle was short and bloody. Dahlquist’s men were mere bodyguards, no match for the trained soldiers that Bentick sent.
“Once the guards were defeated, the soldiers entered Dahlquist’s cave. I spoke with one of them once – an old man now, older than myself. Do you know what his memory was of that cave? The smell. It stuck in the soldiers’ mouths, made some of them physically sick. Can you guess what that smell was?”
“It was the hearts.”
“Quite right, Mr Gideon. A fine guess. It was the villagers’ hearts. Dahlquist laid them on an altar as offerings to his demon. In that heat, the organs rotted in days. They swarmed with so many flies that they each resembled the Black Terror itself.”
“This is horrible. Was Dahlquist there?”
“Yes, and a ghastly sight by all accounts. He had not left the cave since the day the Black Terror was found. His skin had turned pale and his veins almost black.”
“Was he killed too?”
“He was, as he tried to protect his statue of Malphas. But before he died, Lord Dahlquist swore a curse on any person that touched the Black Terror. He vowed that Malphas would have revenge on those people. After that, the demon would strike at the heart of the British Empire.”
“None of this can be true. Curses, demons…”
“And yet, Miss Everett, you have witnessed it with your own eyes. The curse of the Black Terror.”
“But why does no one know about this?”
“Because they could not, Wild Boy. As you know, many Indians resent your country’s growing power over theirs, even without mad aristocrats butchering whole villages. There would have been rebellion, revolt. Lord Bentick was ordered to make the story disappear. The villagers’ bodies, found in mass graves, were dug up and burned. Those of the guards were incinerated too.”
“And Dahlquist’s?”
“That I do not know. There is a story that his body burned with black smoke. Other accounts claim it disappeared. Stolen, or hidden perhaps. His wife and son vanished too. Into hiding, a life of shame.”
“And the Black Terror? What happened to that?”
“That is where I enter the story. This was soon after I moved into this building, although at that time I owned only this showroom and the vault beneath our feet. I was not at the top of my profession. I do, however, believe that I was its most skilled practitioner. It was my eyes. They saw things in those stones that other jewellers did not, even the craftsmen of Amsterdam. It is not an exaggeration to say that I cut double the number of facets onto a stone than any of my rivals. Thus my jewels shone twice as bright.
“But I do not think that was why the Black Terror was brought to me. Rather, it was because of my reputation for discretion. I was one of very few women in my profession, a fact that I believed would discourage clients from seeking my business. Wherever possible, I kept my identity secret, acting through agents and intermediaries. That secrecy attracted the organization that had acquired the Black Terror and buried its story so deeply. Secrets, you see, are their business.”
“You mean the Gentlemen?”
“Indeed. It was the Gentlemen who brought the stone into my life.”
“It was Lucien Grant, wasn’t it? He knew about Malphas.”
“It was. Mr Grant’s instructions were clear. The Black Terror was to be kept in my vault for ten years. No one else was to know of its existence. After that, I was to cut it into separate parts, bestowing each with a new name and provenance. It would be as if Lord Dahlquist’s Black Terror, the heart of Malphas, had never existed.”
“You did this even though you knew the stone’s history?”
“No, I discovered that later. But had I known, I would still have accepted the commission. I lived for my craft, Wild Boy. That stone … I would never see its like again. I could not resist the chance to become part of its
history. So I followed Mr Grant’s instructions, and the stone remained in my vault for a decade. During that time, my star rose. I received commissions from the very highest levels of society. Kings, emperors, maharajas of Rajasthan. But I recall little of that work. Of those years, I remember only the Black Terror. You see, I too grew infatuated with that stone. I used my new wealth to uncover its history. It was not easy, for it was a story that the Gentlemen had worked hard to erase. Lord Dahlquist’s title had been expunged. His family had vanished. Few would speak of the man or his crimes.”
“How’d you know so much about it then?”
“I said few. I had my sources. Spencer, hold my hand tighter. There, like that. Ah, I remember the Black Terror so well! Often I would sit for hours, staring into its black abyss. That stone, over which armies had clashed and hundreds died… At times I felt like a priest worshipping at its temple.”
“Or like Dahlquist in his cave.”
“Perhaps, Miss Everett, perhaps. But I knew the time would come when I would be separated from the stone. Worse, I would have to cut it into pieces.
“And then the day came. I will never forget the scream as the saw first bit into the Black Terror. It was as if the cries of every villager of Kollur came from it at once. Well, cutting and polishing a single diamond takes several weeks. But a black diamond is the hardest substance known. Cutting and shaping those stones took me six months. That whole time I felt as if I were cutting out my own heart.
“I divided the stone into four separate jewels. They were my finest work, and my greatest regret. One, the stone you see here, was given to me by the Gentlemen to buy my silence in the affair. Another was given to Lord Bentick.”
“He had it put in a ring for his wife. The killer took it.”
“Of course, Miss Everett. And the third stone I set into a necklace for the Queen.”
“Wait. What about the fourth? There’s still another piece of the Black Terror?”
“I cannot tell you what happened to that stone – the largest of them all. Like the others, it was given to the Gentlemen. I do not envy whoever has it now. It is clear that Malphas has come for the owners of the other stones, just as he came for me.”
“You ain’t got the terror, not like Marcus.”
“No. The demon left me in a state I regard as far worse. You see, the day after I completed the commission, I lost my sight, never to look upon my stone again. That, I believe, was my punishment for cutting it but not for keeping it. For that crime the demon will yet return for my life.”
“That’s why you shut yourself up, built these traps.”
“It was. However, if those defences failed against two children, then I must assume they will also fail to stop Malphas.”
“We ain’t ordinary children.”
“Miss Everett, I do not need eyes to see that. But while it is admirable that you wish to save your friend, I fear you have a greater concern. Have you asked yourself why the killer is collecting the black diamonds?”
“The Black Terror. He’s trying to get it all back together.”
“Precisely, Mr Gideon. And when the whole stone is reunited, the demon will be strong again.”
“No. We don’t believe in demons.”
“That is irrelevant, Miss Everett. Someone is acting out Lord Dahlquist’s curse. And remember, the curse is sworn not only upon those who took his stone. Once the four stones of the Black Terror are together, Malphas will be strong again, and the demon will strike at the heart of the British Empire.”
“What does that mean?”
“My guess is as good as yours, Wild Boy. Malphas, the Destroyer of Cities.”
Wild Boy felt as if a wind had rushed in from outside, chilling him to the bone. He knew what Oberstein meant, but he prayed it wasn’t true. The heart of the British Empire. The answer came out in a whisper, a single word.
“London.”
“Indeed,” Oberstein replied. “So you see, whatever is happening has only begun. Soon, thousands will experience this thing you call terror. After sixteen years, Lord Dahlquist and his demon are finally having their revenge.”
20
Wild Boy could always tell when someone was lying. His eyes homed in on ticks and traits, subconscious gestures that were as clear to him as if the person had hung a sign around their neck declaring their guilt. The way someone’s voice rose or fell by a note as they delivered their deceit, a narrowing of an eye, an almost imperceptible flare of a nostril.
He saw none of these things in Oberstein.
Really, he didn’t need to look. He could hear it in her voice as she told the history of the Black Terror, the weight of emotions pressing on every word. The story was true, or at least she believed it to be.
By the time Oberstein had finished speaking, Wild Boy and Clarissa were gripping each other’s arms. Clarissa’s eyes remained on the black diamond, but she was no longer determined to steal it. Now she was scared of it.
Gideon was affected by the story, too. It seemed almost as if it had physically pained him to hear it. His face had screwed up even tighter, and he gripped his necktie so hard that he gagged.
“So,” Oberstein croaked, her voice weak from her long tale. “You understand how little chance your friend Marcus has of survival. He is marked to die by a demon.”
“No!” Clarissa insisted. Her cry was so loud that the guard raised his pistol. “That can’t be true.”
Oberstein let out a noise like a bark. Wild Boy realized she was laughing.
“Perhaps,” she said, “if you see the stone, you will understand its power. Spencer, bring me my stone.”
Her masked bodyguard shook his head, refusing to leave her side. He whispered something but Wild Boy couldn’t make out the muffled words.
Oberstein raised a hand and stroked Spencer’s mask. “My dear, please. Bring me my stone.”
Still the man hesitated, but he was clearly bound to obey her command. The bones in his knees clicked as he rose. He glared at Wild Boy and Clarissa, his grey eyes swirling like storm clouds. Wild Boy wondered if Spencer had built all the traps around this building. How hard had he worked to protect his mistress? And how deeply did he now despise the people who had broken through his defences?
Spencer strode to the cabinet. With a single swing of a fist, he smashed its glass. Blood spotted his knuckles, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain. He reached into the case and picked up the black diamond.
As he placed the jewel in Oberstein’s hands, light from the fire gleamed off its faces, like a black sun shining darkness. It was a true piece of treasure, a mesmerizing thing. Wild Boy couldn’t imagine how stunning the Black Terror had looked when it was whole.
But the jewel and its history appalled him. He brought the Queen’s card from his pocket, stared at that name in dark ink. Malphas. He remembered the eyes of the demon, glowing with darkness just like that stone.
No, he told himself. You don’t believe in demons.
He just had to study the clues, like Marcus had taught him. Someone had poisoned Prendergast and then Marcus and Lady Bentick. He didn’t know how the killer had done it, but he sensed it was the answer he needed to unlock this case.
One of the guards snatched the card from Wild Boy’s hand and eyed it suspiciously, as if it might be a weapon. Ignoring Wild Boy’s protest, he strode across the showroom and tossed the card onto the fire. A puff of dark smoke rose from the flames and drifted past the old jeweller’s face.
Oberstein’s fingers curled around the stone, and a hiss came from her mouth, like one of the pipes releasing steam. It sounded like relief and regret at the same time. “My finest work,” she said. “You see, Wild Boy? You see the power of this stone? It is truly the heart of Malphas.”
The jeweller’s hands sank, as if the stone had suddenly doubled in weight. She sucked in air, like the last breath of someone drowning. Her shaking grew more violent and her seat scraped against the floor.
“Wild Boy?” Clarissa said. “What
’s happening to her?”
Behind the jeweller, the two guards also began to shake. One of them collapsed, his pistol firing as it clattered to the floor. Spencer fell back from Oberstein in shock, and Clarissa and Gideon dived to the ground. Chips of plaster sprayed from the ceiling.
Wild Boy didn’t know what was happening, only that this was his chance to get the black diamond. Running to Oberstein, he caught the stone as it slipped from her hands. He shoved the jewel into his coat pocket, but his cry of triumph turned into a shriek of horror.
He stepped back, staring…
Darkness flowed through Oberstein’s veins. Black lines slithered over her arms, up her neck and across her wrinkled face. Her eyes changed too. Suddenly they saw again – nothing real, just the imaginary horrors the terror had unleashed in her mind.
She swatted at invisible swooping creatures. “No!” she shrieked. “Not again, not my eyes. Do not take my eyes!”
“It’s the terror!” Gideon cried. “The demon came for her, just like she said.”
Spencer sank to his knees beside his mistress and enveloped her shaking figure in his huge arms. A tear fell from the bottom of his mask and onto Oberstein’s cobweb hair.
The guards had been struck with the terror too. One was dead, the other lay on the floor beside him, thrashing and drooling.
“How did it happen?” Clarissa gasped, staring at Oberstein. “One moment she was talking and then … how could the terror have got her too?”
“Oberstein!” a voice called from the street. “Open this door.”
“It’s Malphas!” Gideon shrieked. “The demon’s come for me now!”
Wild Boy rushed to the shutters and looked through the slats. Outside, Lucien Grant pounded on the door. Dr Carew was there too, his pale face full of fear. Beyond them were a dozen Black Hats. From the way their hands hovered close to their coats, Wild Boy guessed the men were armed.
“Oberstein!” Lucien called. “We are searching for the fugitives Wild Boy and Clarissa Everett. Send them out or we will force entry.”
Wild Boy and the Black Terror Page 11