Chapter 22
Four days had passed since William had decided to comb the city for a man named Smith. Although the man himself had proven elusive, the search had not been without success. Three of the locations recognised the description of Smith. At each venue, the story was the same: Smith stayed two nights and then moved on. It was clear to William that the man they hunted was attempting to cover his tracks. Not only had he used a number of different names, he was moving his lodging constantly. Inspector Faraday had proven useful in supplying the investigation with six constables to help in the search. Isaac, was especially encouraged by the limited success.
“Don’t you see, William? Smith clearly wants to remain close to carry out his task, whatever that is, how long is it before he runs out of new places to lodge?”
“And that helps us how?”
“I have instructed the men to offer a reward to the owners we have visited. I believe it is only a matter of time before Smith is recognised by the owners of these establishments. His location, sooner or later, will be passed on to us, and we shall have our man.”
“If he is still in the City… for all we know he may be a half way around the world by now.”
∞∞∞
Later in the day, Isaac was still in an enthusiastic mood. He’d asked William for a night away from the investigation. When William had asked the reason, Isaac did his best to skirt around the question, answering as vaguely as he could. Despite Isaac’s indirectness, William had agreed to the request, giving him a friendly slap on the arm saying that Isaac had, after all, earned a night off.
A few hours later, Isaac was keen to return home to change his clothes and ready himself for the evening. A carriage was ordered, and then as the hour struck 9pm that carriage was ready to deposit Isaac outside Gamages. Isaac’s usual confidence the earlier part of the day began to slip away with each turn of the wheels. He wished he had worn gloves, certain that he would lose his grasp on his cane, so great was the sweating from his palms. He stepped from the carriage and strode to the shop frontage. His eyes peered at his own reflection in store’s window. Raising a finger to the thin scar, which ran down the left side of his face, he traced its path. For the first time during his life, he hated the only thing he had left of his mother. It may have been the act of her drunken behaviour, but it was a link to a mother long since passed. His valour deserted him, and he was about to leave when he heard his name spoken.
“Mr. Naismith.”
“Ah Sam, I was about to ask if you would permit me to escort Rebecca home. However, perhaps I should leave the task in your capable hands?”
“I believe that would disappoint Rebecca, she is keen to thank you for your kindness,” Sam paused for a moment. “Besides, I have other tasks to attend and would rather not drag Rebecca about the streets because of my pressing matters.”
“Oh - then I suppose...” Isaac attempted to reply.
“That is settled then. Give Rebecca my best and apologies.” Sam took off; leaving an extremely nervous looking Isaac no choice but to remain.
It was no more than five minutes before Rebecca emerged from the store.
“Mr. Naismith...” She was clearly shocked to see him.
“Rebecca, I wondered if you would permit me to escort you home. Sam has a few matters that need his attendance, and please, call me Isaac.”
“I would be most grateful and delighted, Isaac.” She emphasised his name. She smiled and held out her arm, which he accepted.
“Your hours are demanding.”
“It is a busy store, so time moves quickly. There is little chance to take a rest through the day.”
“Have you not eaten?”
“Not for some hours.”
“Then please allow me to escort you to a fine meal. My club provides the most wondrous service.”
“Your club?”
“Yes, I have a private room.” Isaac saw Rebecca stiffen and she moved away so that he could no longer hold her arm.
“I am not that kind of woman, Isaac. Or is it that you do not wish to be seen with a Jew?” Her face contorted with rage.
“Rebecca please, I intended no insult.” Isaac felt his face redden. How could not help feeling stupid. “I mention the private room, only because you wear your Gamages uniform, and I thought you may feel uncomfortable in a public eatery. As for the type of woman you are, let me assure you that I possess nothing but respect. You have faced your trials with great dignity. I will escort you home, forgive me.”
Initially, Rebecca did not reply, and the two continued their journey in silence. Isaac looked at the ground, too embarrassed to look at his companion. Suddenly, Isaac realised that Rebecca had stopped. “Isaac, forgive me. I can be defensive and take offence where none is meant.”
Still looking at the ground, Isaac replied, “It is my fault, my words were insensitive. My work during recent years has not afforded me the pleasure of a woman’s company. I am afraid I am the proverbial fish out of water.”
“We are just people,” she smiled and placed her arm in his once again.
“No Rebecca, you are not just people, you have an uncommon beauty.”
“Oh.” Isaac noticed how her cheeks had reddened and wondered if they matched his own.
“Forgive me that was improper. Rebecca please rest assured that I offer friendship, nothing more. I do not offer sympathy, but admiration for what you have overcome.”
“Isaac, calm yourself. I gladly accept your friendship and your offer to dine.”
∞∞∞
The long table played host to hooded figures, who sat in perfect silence. Three candles adorned the surface of the table, and was the only light that serviced the room. Those present had endured the gloom for over twenty minutes as the distant echoes of raised voices sounded in the next room. They knew that one of the voices belonged to the man that led every meeting that took place at the table, but the words were distorted by the thick walls of the country house.
Eventually, the door to the dining room opened and two further hooded figures entered. One took his place alongside his comrades; the other sat, as always, at the head of the table. A figure stepped from the shadows and filled each glass with wine. This included the two glasses that stood before two vacant chairs. The figure at the head of the table raised his glass; an action repeated by all those present.
“By the blood of Cronos, we pay respect to those that have fallen in his name. We promise by the blood that flows through our veins that their loss will not be for nought.” All those present repeated his words and then drank from their glasses. The figure at the head of the table waited until each glass had been placed on the table’s highly polished surface. “Despite our beloved comrades falling, they have completed most of their tasks. Cronos will not be disappointed, and they shall soon be welcomed to his bosom.”
“Forgive me, Alpha, but should we not remove this thorn, Harkness, from our side.”
For a moment, no reply was forthcoming but if a person was to observe closely, they would see Alpha’s hand tightening and the knuckles whiten. However, when the figure spoke, his tone was flat and without emotion. “Your concerns have been noted, but have I have already explained killing William Harkness would result in creating a far greater enemy.”
“Simeon Harkness is just one man.”
“Sir Simeon Harkness is the most influential man in the Empire. He would tear Britain apart for the killers of his son.”
“But we cannot allow William Harkness to continue to thin our ranks.”
Alpha noticed that a number of those seated around the table murmured in agreement. He knew that the followers were beginning to become concerned. “Very well, but William Harkness and his household will remain unharmed.” Before further objection could be raised, he held his hand aloft to signal he had not finished. “However, Harkness is a beast who relies heavily on those that show him loyalty. The loss of his friend nearly broke the man. I believe if we destroy his followers, then we will d
estroy the man.”
“That will be easy.”
“Gamma, you underestimate these men. The reason William has picked them from the crowd is because they stand above the ordinary. They must be struck from this world in a blink of an eye. We cannot dawdle and expect to remove these men one by one. Our blades must rise and fall in one day and leave William Harkness without his loyal posts to lean on.” He paused to let his words take effect around the room. “Gamma, as you are so passionate for this action, the responsibility will fall to you to ensure its completion. Do you have enough men for such a task?”
“I have more than enough. They work for a price, but are not without skill.”
Alpha placed his hand at the shoulder of the diminutive figure to his left. “You will also take responsibility, after all, it is your words that flow from Gamma’s mouth.” The hooded figure did not reply, it simply nodded its acceptance of the task. “Very well, in three days from now, the poison barb that is William Harkness will be removed from our flesh.”
Alpha remained seated as his fellow conspirators filed from the room. He motioned that his glass should be refilled. As the liquid flowed freely he considered those followers that sought more than just a seat at the table. If they succeeded in the task, then they would gain further support. To do that, however, they must succeed in removing William’s men. It was a game not of his choosing; but the dice had been thrown, and he must wait to see where they land.
∞∞∞
Isaac rose from his chair, then held Rebecca’s as she stood to her feet.
“Thank you, Isaac, I have never eaten such wonderful food in my life.”
“The pleasure was mine, it is a rarity to enjoy such delightful company.”
“I owe you an apology when you mentioned your private room, I imagined a bedroom.” As she spoke she glanced about the room, drinking in its lustre.
“Oh no,” he blushed. “I would never – I mean you are very attractive and of course – I mean my intentions,” he faltered. His cheeks deepened in colour as he struggled to look at Rebecca.
“Calm yourself Isaac. I realise you are an honourable man.”
“I... I only wish to know you better,” he stuttered.
“And you do not mind that I am a Jew?”
“I do not care for such things; it is you that I wish to know. Besides, if you knew the demons who haunt my past; it might be you that turns your back on our friendship.”
“Then tell me, Isaac. What are these demons of yours?” For the first time, he raised his head and the two were locked in a stare. The words stuck in his throat. To his surprise, however, she raised a hand to his cheek. “I will understand.”
He gave a slight nod. “I have in my former employment carried out duties, which were morally wrong,” he spoke quickly. Hoping the shame, he felt at his actions would somehow lessen if spoken in brevity.
“Do you regret those actions.”
“With all my heart.”
“The weight of those actions on your heart, are punishment enough. It is not for me to further your shame.”
Isaac gave a feeble smile in recognition of her understanding. In his heart, however, he knew that he must tell her all. “There is more. My father went insane and took his own life. Our family was forced into poverty, and my mother turned to both gin and whoring. She gave me this,” he traced the scar with his finger. “Worst of all, my brother was a killer, who William and I believe was in the employ of the Ripper.” He grimaced expecting nothing but scorn; after all, who would want to be associated with a person so cursed by life.
“Isaac, are you insane?”
“No,” he replied. Confused by the question.
“Are you a whore?”
“No, my legs do not suit a skirt.” It was a feeble attempt at humour.
“And are you a killer?”
“No, never.”
“Then why do you insist on taking on the guilt of others? You are responsible for your sins alone.” She smiled and then added, “I have a long day tomorrow and must return to my lodgings. I have had the most delightful evening, Isaac.”
“Would you permit me to call on you again?” Despite her kind words, he fully expected her to refuse his request.
“I would be disappointed if you did not.”
Chapter 23
Two days and most of the next had passed. William was sat behind his desk reading the documents found at the unfortunate Mr. Stand’s cottage. Jack suddenly burst into the office, excitement written across his features.
“We have him!”
“Who?” William replied.
“Smith, we have just received a note from the Queen Anne. He returned there no more than an hour a go.”
William leapt from his chair. “Get Gossup, we leave immediately.”
The three men did not bother with a carriage; the Queen Anne was no more than five minutes stroll from Slaughter Yard. Before long, they were watching the main entrance to the tavern, from across the street.
“Goss, I want you to remain here in case he slips passed us; we have waited long enough to speak to this bastard.”
“He won’t get by me.”
“Come on Jack.” William strode purposely across the street. Once inside Jack approached the owner. William watched as the brief exchange took place, culminating in the owner nodding his head. Jack returned a broad smile upon his face.
“Smith is still in his room. Upstairs, second door along.”
William pulled away from the chaos of the bar, leading Jack with a tug on his sleeve, along a narrow corridor. They paused at the start of a steep flight of stairs. Footsteps could be heard on the landing above, and then a shadow appeared on the wall. A figure emerged and began to descend. The cleaning lady nearly tipped head over heels, but thankfully for her, William prevented her headlong fall down the stairs. She went to offer gratitude, but William placed a finger against his lips. “Is Smith, still in his room?” he whispered. She nodded her reply and he deposited a coin in her hand for her trouble.
William and Jack proceeded with caution. They reached the summit of the staircase, and then approached the room that supposedly housed Smith.
“How are we going to handle this?” Jack asked.
“Well I am not going to knock.” William took a step back and then kicked out. The door lock surrender as its supporting timbers splintered. The all too feeble barrier burst inward with William and Jack following close behind. A man jumped from the bed and raced towards the window. Instinctively, William kicked a small stool which flew across the room and hit the fugitive in the back of the knees. Both he and the stool were sent sprawling across the floor.
“Smith, I think we need to talk.”
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Smith snarled.
“Simms is dead. He gave us your name before leaving for the afterlife. You either start talking now - or you start bleeding.” Smith looked at William and suddenly his body seemed to lose all vigour.
“Alright, I will tell you what I know.” He held out a hand to be helped to his feet. William obliged, but immediately realised he had made a mistake. Smith’s free hand struck William’s jaw and threw him backwards. Jack was taken completely by surprise and was felled by a vicious knee in the groin. Smith hurdled the falling Jack, and made for the now destroyed door. Just as he neared escape he was suddenly thrown sideways as William thrown himself bodily across the room. Both men landed in a heap on the floor. Elbows, fists, teeth, and knees went to work as the two men fought on the timbers of the room’s floor.
Just as William was beginning to think he may lose, Smith stopped fighting, his entire body stiffened. William rolled free and looked at Smith. The man’s face was flushed with a burning crimson, and his eyes bulged to almost bursting point.
“You can get up now, William, he isn’t going anywhere,” Jack snarled. William struggled onto his feet and turned to see Jack’s hand clamped firmly on Smith’s groin.
“Ouch Jack, that’s
a bit harsh.” William could not help giving a little chuckle.
“The bastard kicked me in the balls! He’s lucky I don’t rip his off and wear them as a necklace.”
William stared at Smith, deliberately taking his time, enjoying Smith’s discomfort. He pulled the pepperbox from his jacket and placed the four barrels against the man’s forehead. “You can let go now, Jack.” William motioned that Smith should rise and take a seat. “Now, shall we try again?” William lowered himself onto the edge of the bed; the pepperbox pointing at Smith’s face. “Tell me, Smith, why was your name the last word spoken by a Ripper victim?”
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