The Reaper's Kiss

by Robert Southworth

  “It was close. He was a proper bastard,” William replied. “And I’ve lost my pistol.”

  “It slid toward the boat,” Faraday pointed to a small tethered rowing boat as he spoke.

  William immediately moved towards the diminutive craft. He would not admit it to the Inspector, but the pepperbox held a certain importance. It had been a gift from Isaac Naismith, and was the first act of kindness he’d received on his return to London. As he reached the boat, he glanced around and wondered if it had dropped over the edge of the small man-made dock. He got down on one knee, rolled up a sleeve and plunged his arm into the cold waters.

  “Here it is,” Faraday announced.

  William half turned his hand still languishing in the Channel’s cooling liquid. Faraday was smiling, but somehow William felt uneasy by his friend’s apparent mirth. The smile slipped, and as it did, the pistol was raised high and then swept down with force. William was helpless has the pistol struck. He felt the blinding pain on the side of his head. He tipped forward and crashed into the bottom of the rowing boat. He managed to turn his head and see Faraday stepping into the craft. Then another blow connected with his jaw and his world sank into darkness.

  Chapter 12

  Gossup swore loudly as the first shot sounded. Calls of alarm quickly followed the gunfire, and then came the screams of anger. The nest of vipers suddenly writhed with panicked excitement. Men that had no love of law seemed to emerge from every doorway. However, the day was young; the bleary, reddened eyes betrayed the heavy night’s drinking that most of these villains had enjoyed the previous night. Very few held weapons. Indeed, the majority were struggling to pull on breeches or a reluctant boot. A well-aimed billy club prevented many of them from winning the battle with their attire.

  Gossup observed the melee. It did not take long before he found the source of the gun shot. A colossus of a man stood in a doorway. He matched the unmistakable description that Faraday had given of Chides. His weapon seemed more at home in a military band than on the battlefield. The flared barrel, however, had already sent its deadly fire into the mist and the weapon was little more than a decorative club. Gossup strode forward intent on confronting the man. However, a figure appeared between him and Chides.

  ***

  “Come on, you big bastard,” Jack called out. He had seen Gossup heading for Chides and doubted that his friend, despite his skill with a blade, could handle the man’s power. Chides accepted the challenge by hurling his weapon at Jack’s head. Jack stepped to his side but heard a man cry out with pain to his rear. Chides charged forward. Jack in contrast to his attacker took a calm and measured step to his right, and then snapped out a powerful jab. He winced in pain as his fist connected with Chide’s granite-like jaw. His enemy raised a hand to his lip and dabbed at the emerging blood.

  “Oh, we have a fighter and such a pretty boy too. I don’t know whether to kill you or bed you. Maybe I will just kill you first and play with you afterwards.” Chides laughed as he closed the gap between the two.

  “What… no romancing?” Jack replied, before throwing a left and right combination. Both punches landed but neither succeeded in removing the annoying smile from Chides’ face. The noise from the surrounding chaos began to falter. Jack hoped that his friends had gained the upper hand, but recognised that it would be foolish to turn his attention from his enemy. The fight settled into a pattern. Chides would move forward; his advance would be met with a flurry of blows and then the spritely Jack would dance away.

  Jack could feel the tiredness creeping into his arms and legs. He had never known an opponent that did not weaken. His concern must have shown on his face because Chides began to laugh.

  “What’s wrong pretty boy?’ Chides cackled.

  “I can do this all day,” Jack replied, hoping that he sounded more confident than he felt.

  “Then we had best move things along.” As he spoke Chides moved forward at far greater speed than he had previously done so. At the same time, his mammoth fist shot out and caught Jack a glancing blow on the jaw. The blow was enough to throw Jack off balance and before he could regain his composure Chides struck again. The second blow drove into his gut. Jack doubled over, the air forced from his body. He stumbled but managed to keep his feet. The laughing Chides closed on him, but Jack, was a man of the street, he knew that this was no time for rules. He slipped beneath a right hook then brought his knee into Chides groin. The laughing stopped, replaced by a groan, and then a fury-filled growl. Chides, his face a mask of pure rage, came forward again. Jack threw a jab, Chides caught it, and pulled him in close. The big man elbowed Jack, catching him in the temple. Then Jack was grasped bodily, lifted from the ground and then squeezed. He tried to break the hold, his rib cage straining against the pressure. Chides had too much strength forcing Jack to improvise. He drew his head back and smashed it against the bridge of his attacker’s nose, but remarkably the powerful grip did not lessen. Jack repeated the move, and finally, Chides’ grip relaxed and then fell away. Jack stumbled from his attacker and clutched at his ribs. He managed to glance toward his enemy. Chides was wiping the blood away from his face; the smile replaced by hatred. Jack realised at that moment that he was outmatched. Chides had taken his best shots and just kept coming. For the first time in a life of violence, Jack felt a stab of deep, gut wrenching fear. Chides charged forward like a crazed bull elephant. Jack summoned all of his strength and used it, in one punch.

  The blow didn’t even slow the man down. Jack felt the full force as his enemy crashed into him. He would have been thrown onto the floor, but nearby wagon held him upright. He felt his ribs break as Chides caught him with another blow.

  “Can’t dance away from this, pretty boy,” Chides snarled.

  Jack was spent. Another blow smashed his jaw and his head banged against the timbers of the wagon. A pair of strong, powerful hands were at his throat. Panic raced through Jack’s mind as he desperately tried to break Chides’ grip. His strength had gone, and he knew the end was close. darkness finally overwhelmed him.

  ***

  Gossup forced himself to his feet. He looked down at the weapon that had emerged from the mist to strike him in the groin. He remembered the pain and falling to the ground. He touched a hand to his head and felt the blood within his matted hair. He swore loudly, realising that he must have knocked himself out when he fell. For a moment, he was confused as to what to do next but then remembered the mission. He glanced around and saw Chides standing at a wagon. Initially, his sight was blurred, but as his senses began to clear, he realised that Jack was in trouble. He forced his shaking limbs forward and drew the blade from within his jacket. When he was no more than a few paces away he launched himself on to the back of Chides. He made no attempt to arrest; Jack’s life depended on swift action. He held onto Chides head with one hand and swept his blade in from the side. The weapon tore through the side of the smugglers neck. Flesh surrendered to the wicked curved edge, which did not stop until hilt slammed against bone. Chides arms dropped from Jack, and then the mountain-like man toppled to his side, taking Gossup with him.

  “Bollocks!” Gossup swore as he tried to heave the substantial frame of Chides from on top of him. He scrambled from the floor and glanced across at Jack who had slipped to the floor when released by the late Chides. “Jack!” Gossup called but received no reply. He feared the worst as he crossed to his friend. “Jack, come on. Get up.” His pleading, had no effect on the bruised and battered form. Gossup grasped his friend by his jacket and shook him. “Come on you bastard! William will gut me like a fish if I don’t bring you home.” Jack’s eyes flickered and then opened.

  “Water,” Jack croaked.

  “Bloody water, by God’s cock. Why would I carry water?” He reached within his jacket and pulled out a small flask. “Rum is what you need.”

  “A strange drink of choice,” Jack noted as he took the flask.

  “Some habits formed in the ranks are hard to break.” He retrieved th
e flask and took a drink.

  “Where is Chides?”

  “The bastard is dead,” Gossup replied.

  “I am sorry Goss, he was just too strong. In truth, he gave me a beating.”

  “Well his days of giving beating are at an end.” Gossup spat in Chides’ direction.

  “William will not be happy. He wanted the man alive.”

  “William will be far happier that you walk this world than that bastard.” Gossup placed an awkward hand on Jack’s shoulder. He always found it easier to kill than show tenderness. However, since spending time with the young Alfie, he had made an effort to be more open with his feelings.

  “Thank you, Goss. He would have killed me.”

  “Your brother saved my life on more occasions than I can count. You owe me no debt. Now, let us see what we can find in the nest of vipers.”

  ***

  There had been around twenty smugglers other than Chides. The sudden appearance of Gossup and his men that were not opposed to using violence, caused many of the cave inhabitants to flee rather than fight. Few had the pugilistic skill or stubbornness of their criminal employer. By the time Chides lay upon the ground, the smugglers were either dead, captive or running for the hills. Bakari joined Jack on the injury list, nursing a deep cut to his right upper arm. The man responsible for the injury had been robbed the enjoyment of triumph as Bakari put his own blade to work.

  Gossup surveyed the camp of the smugglers. This part of their operation was hardly hidden from view. Various outbuildings stood testament that this was a criminal organisation with little to fear from the authorities. The buildings were inspected revealing a thriving business.

  “I will wager that much of this would have been in London by the end of the week.” Abberline picked up a bottle from a nearby crate. “This would cost me more than a week’s pay.” The Inspector eyed Gossup closely.

  “Probably tastes like piss,” Gossup replied, but his mind was on the fact that William was yet to arrive. He wondered if he should send out a search party.

  “The rest of the men can gather the documents from Chides’ office. May I suggest that we get one of those bastards,” he pointed at one of the captives, “to lead us through the caves.”

  “Yes, I think we had best go find him. He and Faraday may have become lost. Tallow,” Gossup motioned for Richard Tallow to come closer, “use the wagon and gather every piece of evidence. You had better question the prisoners too.”

  “Consider it done,” Tallow replied.

  Gossup nodded his thanks and then walked over to where the prisoners were seated.

  “I need a guide.” A less than enthusiastic response met his request. “Listen carefully – my friend may be lost in those caves. The man who leads me through will receive payment and his freedom.” Not one man moved or made a sound. Most looked down at the ground, suggesting that they feared being seen to help the authorities. Gossup looked around the men until his stare lingered on one man. He held himself proudly and looked directly at Gossup. His clothes were in better condition than his comrades’ and hanging from his belt was an expensive looking spyglass. “You will do.” Gossup pointed at the man.

  The man spat out his reply. “I didn’t volunteer my services.”

  “Two options…you either come with me or,” Gossup pulled a pistol from his belt, “I will shoot you in the face.” He stepped forward and raised the pistol. The man jumped to his feet. “I am glad you have seen reason. Abberline, let’s go.”

  ***

  Gossup, Abberline and their newly acquired guide had ventured through the caves. Gossup had decided that stealth was not important and as they entered each cave he would call out to William. If they reached a cave which had more than one offshoot, then Abberline would remain on the main route as Gossup and the guide would investigate. However, Gossup would return without William at his side. Each empty cave added weight to the despair in Gossup’s heart. He could not help feeling a sense of dread.

  “How much further?” he asked.

  “There are only two more caves and only one of those are used by our men,” the guide replied.

  Gossup noticed the guide smirking.

  “Be warned… I will happily gut you. Now move on.”

  The three men journeyed along a small passageway that led to yet another cave. It was one of the largest that they had encountered. It held a few crates and a small dock.

  “There!” Abberline pointed to two figures on the ground.

  The three men moved forward. Gossup realised that it was not Faraday and William, but it did at least mean that his friends had reached this point.

  “One of the boats is missing,” the guide announced. “We always have two small rowing boats tied to the dock.”

  Gossup moved down to the dock’s edge. He looked around for evidence and then spied a pistol glint in the shallow water. He bent down and retrieved the firearm and realised, with no little dread, the pistol was one of William’s pepperboxes. He turned to the guide.

  “Give me your spyglass, now!” Gossup clambered into the second boat and rowed it past the cave’s hidden entrance. He scanned the horizon and then spotted a shape in the distance. He raised the spyglass. A small boat came into view and the impressive figure of Faraday could be seen rowing. Gossup scanned the boat; his heart missed a beat as he observed what looked like a form lying at the front of the craft. Somehow, he knew that the unmoving figure was William. He wanted to give chase, but knew it would be a forlorn attempt. He slumped down and took up the oar. He rowed back toward the cave and clambered onto the dock.

  “Well?” Abberline asked.

  “Faraday has him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “William was not moving – I just hope he still lives.” Gossup looked to the guide. “You are free to go.”

  “Are you sure it was William? Abberline asked.

  “I will admit that the figure was only partially visible and the features were hidden from me. But yes, Abberline, I am sure that it was William.”

  “Then he is alive. If that bastard had killed William then removing the body would serve no purpose,” Abberline replied.

  “My spyglass,” the guide timidly interrupted.

  “You have your life be thankful,” Gossup replied.

  ***

  Back at the smuggler’s main base, Jack was keen to know about William, but Gossup was unable to speak about the matter. His mind was filled with anxiety. His friend could soon be in the hands of the Ripper. He would also have to present that news to Sir Simeon and Emily.

  “Tallow have we got all the documents?” Gossup asked ignoring Jack’s questions.

  “All loaded on the wagon. The prisoners have nothing of any value to say,” Tallow replied.

  “Let them go,” Gossup paused trying to keep his desperation and anger at bay, “and burn it.”

  “I’m sorry?” Tallow asked clearly confused by the request.

  “Burn it all. Not one crate or timber is to be left untouched.” Gossup walked away.

  Tallow looked to Abberline.

  “Do as his says,” Abberline confirmed.

  Chapter 13

  Sir Simeon Harkness woke early. He wiped the sweat from his brow, wishing that he could remember the nightmare that disturbed his slumber. He pulled back the bedding and noticed his nightshirt was damp like his brow. He felt uneasy as though a great sorrow lay just beyond his mind’s view. He climbed from his bed and moved to the jug of fresh water. He tipped its contents into a large bowl and then plunged his hands into the cooling liquid. For a moment, he remained still, allowing the water to caress his scarred and hardened flesh. The in one swift movement he bent and submerged his face in the water. As he stood upright, he dragged his hand up his face and over hair removing the excess water. He let out a long sigh in resignation that the reason for his sense of foreboding would remain a secret. As he opened his eyes, he glanced through one of the enormous windows that Cloveney possessed. In the distanc
e, he saw the shape of riders and guessed that it was William and the men returning from their mission in the south. Suddenly, he felt a heavy weight in his stomach as he wondered why they would return so early in the day. It would mean the horsemen had travelled through the night; not an option to be taken lightly.

  ***

  Despite dressing quickly, Simeon discovered that the guests had already entered the household. They gathered in Cloveney’s substantial hall. Simeon descended the staircase, and as he did so, he studied the faces of the men that served both him and his son.

  “Is my boy dead?” he asked.

  “No, we don’t believe so,” Tallow replied.

  “It was that bastard, Faraday,” Abberline announced, as he took a step to his front. It looks as though he has made William his captive.”

  Simeon did not reply immediately. He slowly moved down the remaining steps. “Did we manage to capture Chides?”

  “He’s dead, but we have his documents. Perhaps they will lead us to where William is being held.” Abberline’s face suggested to Simeon that he was hopeful rather than enthusiastic about the papers revealing William’s location.

  “If we carry on, we will be signing William’s death sentence,” Gossup interrupted.

  “What would you have us do, Gossup?” Abberline asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’ll be damned if I will give them a reason to kill William,” Gossup replied.

  “Tallow do you think Finch will know of a way to get a message to his former master?” Simeon asked.

  “It is possible…what are your thoughts?”

  “If we reached out to the Ripper and declared an end to the investigation, would they release William? Simeon’s words stuck in his throat.

  “But...” Abberline tried to argue.

  “What would you have me do, Abberline? I will not lose my son. If a killer must walk free to ensure his safety, then I will gladly take that shame.”