The Reaper's Touch

by Robert Southworth

  “I am not the killer,” blurted out Smith.

  “I doubt Scotland Yard will see it that way. A dying man speaks your name with his last breath. Your neck is as good as in the noose.”

  “I was employed to track down the Ripper.”

  “And why would someone employ you?”

  “I was formally a member of the MMP. I had only left the service a few days when I was approached by this scrawny bone of a man. He carried a communication from Mrs. Holbrook offering me a substantial amount of money. At the time, I thought it a simple matter of asking a few questions, claiming the task impossible, and collecting payment. Now I wish I had never left the bloody service.”

  “What’s the MMP?” Jack asked.

  “It’s the military police.” It was William that answered. “I knew there was a reason that I didn’t like you, Smith.” He was not trying to be humorous. William and his men had fallen foul of the military police on more than one occasion. He had never met one of them that wasn’t arrogant, mercenary, and more corrupt than any they arrested. “Tell me, why are your employers being hunted down?”

  “All I know is that my predecessor observed a man following Kostya. In turn, he had that man followed. He set his best man Jenkins to the task, a good man by all accounts. Anyway, this Jenkins sent a communication that he had traced the man to a stately home, thirty miles south of the city.”

  “Who owns it?”

  “That’s the problem. It had been the home of Sir Rufus Thom, but he died without leaving an heir and the property has been vacant ever since. I failed to ascertain if the property has passed to another owner. The lawyers acting on behalf of Thom, doesn’t seem to exist. The recorded premises in which they do business, is vacant. It’s clear that something improper is taking place but whatever it is, is buried too deep for me to uncover. In truth, I have been unable to get any further than my predecessor, and his man Jenkins has not been heard from since his last communication. That is all I know.”

  “Why were you following me?”

  “Do you really have to ask? I wanted to know if you could be trusted. I am certain that the Ripper has eyes at Scotland Yard. If I went to them, I would be dead before nightfall. I was going to run weeks ago, but I was paid to complete a task. However, it is an impossible mission, and as I have passed on all I know to you, the time has come to leave London. “

  “Is there anything else, Smith?” William looked at Smith and could see the man was scared.

  “Yes, look to your friends and family, Harkness. This is a battle you cannot win. Retreat would not be a disgrace.”

  “I don’t believe in battles that can’t be won.”

  “Then you are a fool.”

  “You are not the first to reach that conclusion.” William gave a wry smile, knowing deep down that Smith had nothing more to offer.

  ∞∞∞

  The following morning, William met with his colleagues at Slaughter Yard. It was a brief affair. William could not help feeling disappointed at Smith’s revelations. Although the stately home outside the city offered a line of enquiry, he doubted the killers would still be making use of a property that had been discovered by their enemies. He decided it had been naive to expect anything else; in this investigation doors did not lead to a room. They just led to another door.

  William filled the glasses of all those present. Before speaking he tried to break his own sombre mood. “The last few days have been both arduous and successful. You have all done well, and our reward is a promising line of enquiry that could lead us to the Ripper.” He paused to take a sip from his glass and wonder if his words were in any way hiding the fact that the investigation was no further forward. “Before we rush to the former home of Sir Rufus Thom, I think it prudent we learn as much as possible. Isaac, I doubt Smith’s contacts are a match for yours. Take young Tom and find out who he was, and more importantly, who now holds the deeds to that property? Jack, you’re with me, we’re going to visit the professor. Gossup, I want you to seek out your friends on the streets. Let’s see if he was involved in any questionable activities.”

  “It’s best I go alone, some of my friends speak more freely without strangers present,” Gossup replied.

  “Very well. John, you will remain here and be our point of contact.” John nodded his agreement. “When your tasks are complete, bring the information back to the Yard.” Glasses were drained; chairs scraped the floor’s timbers, and men set about their tasks.

  William rose from his chair and pulled on his jacket. He felt the reassuring thump of the pepperbox as it collided with his rib cage. He doubted he would need the weapon today, but nevertheless, it was comforting to have it close. He walked from the office and was taken aback by the warmth of the day.

  “Jack, shall we ask Emily and Bessie to accompany us to see the professor.”

  “It would be a shame to waste such a fine day.”

  The eloquence of the reply was not lost on William. He had noticed that Jack had been removing his courser language from his speech over the last few weeks. He had been content to ignore the change, but now his curiosity had been pricked. “Jack, is there a new lady in your life?”

  “No - not as yet.”

  “As yet?” William pressed.

  “Well, Bessie is a beautiful woman, but...” his words faltered.

  “But what? You aren’t usually so slow to act regarding the fairer sex.”

  “Forgive me, William but that was before Emily took her beneath her wing.”

  “I don’t understand. What difference does that make?”

  “It matters because I am a fighter, playing at being a copper. She has tasted the finer things in life. I doubt she will be so keen to slip back into the gutter with me.”

  “She would be fortunate to have you, Jack.”

  “I’m not a fool, William. I see the barriers between the likes of...” his words failed briefly. “Between the likes of me and you, William.”

  William could not help feeling a little hurt. He had always striven to banish the social inequality between himself and his men. He looked at Jack and pushed his own hurt to one side. “Be yourself my friend. If she does not see your worth, then she is not worthy of you. Now, let us enjoy the day and see what the professor has to say.”

  Chapter 24

  Emily was clearly overjoyed when William returned home and suggested a day at Hyde Park. She rushed about throwing things in the picnic hamper and even sang as she busied away. William watched her manic display and felt a pang of guilt; he was surely neglecting her if a single trip to the park gave her so much joy. He made a promise to himself, that whether the Sir Rufus Thom line of investigation led to progress or not, he would take Emily to Cloveney Hall. He knew that he owed her his undivided attention.

  Within the hour, the four of them stepped into the street. Emily called back to Obadiah. “Are you sure you will not accompany us?”

  “I’d rather enjoy the peace and quiet,” he grumbled.

  Emily rushed back and, before the old man could resist, she embraced him and planted an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. “Now Obadiah, you know that you will miss me.”

  “Be gone with you.” Despite his attempt at maintaining his apparent sombre exterior, Obadiah could not prevent the smile spreading over his face. Emily skipped down the steps and placed her arm under William’s.

  They continued arm in arm as they strolled through the streets. Jack and Bessie carried the picnic hamper; each of them held a handle of the heavy basket. The day was warm, and the sunshine had its effect on streets of London. The populace seemed happier; smiling faces greeted the four as they meandered their way to Hyde Park. To William, the world of death and slaughter was a distant place today, a place that he had no wish to revisit any time soon.

  They entered the park through the impressive Apsley Gate. William had always loved the entrance; as a boy, it was the first thing he saw when he visited the park. Its fluted columns and magnificent arches seemed importan
t for a boy that had spent much of his childhood reading about the ancient Roman and Greek civilisations. He slowed his pace just a little, so he could drink in the gate’s beauty. It was with a secret sadness that he allowed himself to be steered towards the inner sanctum of the park. They pressed on, ideal picnic spots came and disappeared as they sought out the professor. William knew that the professor usually frequented only certain areas within the park, it was just a matter of finding which one his friend had chosen on this day.

  It was not until they neared one of the professor’s preferred locations that they observed a commotion. A woman was crying; men shook their heads, and constables were pushing the crowd away from the centre of the melee. Then, a familiar figure stepped from the crowd. William immediately recognised the powerful outline of Inspector Faraday. William could not ignore the terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “Jack! Remain with the women and keep them away from the crowd,” William ordered.

  “What’s going on, Will?” Emily asked, pushing herself through the crowd.

  “Stay back Emily, you and Bessie need not see what is going on here,” William told her.

  He set off in search of answers to what transpired. As he covered the relatively short distance, movement in the skies above cast him into a shadow. He looked to the skies to observe angry, growling clouds, racing across the heavens.

  “William,” Faraday looked surprised at seeing him, “I was just about to send for you.”

  “What has happened?”

  “Murder, I believe you know the victim.” William did not reply, he raced passed Faraday. “No, William… don’t.” Faraday’s words were ignored by William. As he approached the covered body and threw back the old picnic blanket on which he had sat on many times.

  William slumped to his knees. The professor’s frail frame lay before him. The same crumpled clothes and scuffed shoes. The pale feeble fingers bent a stiff; a testament to the agony his friend endured. William would have bent and kissed the professor’s and closed his unseeing eyes, but that moment of tenderness had been taken away. The head that contained a brilliant and vibrant mind, in stark contrast to his body, had been cut from the body.

  “Where...where is it?” William stuttered in horrified disbelief.

  “Gone, we have searched the entire park. It appears that the killer has taken the head with him. I am sorry William. An official identification will be impossible but those that frequent the park seem sure of his identity. However, not one could tell us his real name.”

  “I just knew him as ‘professor’.” It suddenly dawned on William how little he knew about his friend.

  William was not permitted the opportunity to slip into grief. A scream smashed his thoughts of days long since passed. He rose immediately, the years of training in the ranks of the British army overwhelmed his personal sadness. He knew the scream had come from Emily and pushed his way through the crowd. Bursting into a run he passed the confused Faraday and sent a constable sprawling to the ground. As he cleared the last of the crowd, in the distance he could see a man on the ground at Jack’s feet. He could also see that his friend was holding a bloodied rag to his thigh as both Emily and Bessie tried to aid their protector. He continued at top speed, because he could also see a man was approaching the small group from behind. The figure was moving slowly but his intent was clear, for at his side, the unmistakable glint of a blade was visible. William knew that he would not reach his friends before the second assailant. Calling out a warning would simply make the assailant rush to the attack. With Jack wounded, the advantage would be with the man with a blade. He had no choice but to pull the pepperbox from his jacket. It was a risk; the weapon was woefully inaccurate. Its aim would not be improved by being fired on the run at a target that was moving, but there was no alternative. William raised the weapon and pulled the trigger. The four barrels erupted in fire and smoke, sending their deadly missiles to tear at flesh.

  One moment the assailant was moving towards his prey, and then his head was jerked violent to the side and he was lifted bodily from the ground. Emily, Jack, and Bessie turned in horror to see the crumpled figure on the ground, his blade still clutched in his hand, no more than five paces from their position.

  “Are you hurt, Emily?” William asked as he finally reached them.

  “No, I’m fine,” she replied. Her face still pale with seeing two dead man so close. “But Jack has a wound to his thigh.”

  “It’s nothing… I didn’t see him until the last minute,” Jack said, pointing at the first attacker. “All I could do was divert the blade. I’m afraid I was left no alternative but to kill the man.”

  Faraday finally arrived on the scene, but before he could speak William held up a hand, needing to put his thoughts in order. The professor had been killed, and an attempt made on Jack’s life, but no attempt had been made on his own. Why? He wondered. With two attackers, it would have been easy to have attempted to kill him and Jack. “Faraday, they are hunting my men. We need to get Emily and Bessie back home. We need to find Isaac and the rest.”

  “No, William, you return home and look after the safety of your household. I will have my constables scour the City and bring them safely home.”

  “What about Abberline?” Emily asked.

  “He’s in Liverpool,” William replied, a little confused by Emily’s question.

  “No, he’s here in London. He sent me word that he had been recalled at the request of Inspector Faraday. He said he would call on us this evening. It was meant to be a surprise.”

  “I sent no request,” declared Faraday.

  “He has obviously been lured back to the city. I think we have become troublesome to the Ripper, and he plans to rid the city of my men.”

  “William, go now, I will find your men. Are you sure of any of their locations?”

  “Only John, he will be at Slaughter Yard. The others could be anywhere in London.”

  ∞∞∞

  Isaac and Tom were successful in the hunt for information about Sir Rufus Thom. Isaac had also learnt the last wishes of Mrs. Holbrook and what she wanted regarding her estate.

  “Do we return to Slaughter Yard?” Tom asked, the boredom clearly etched on his face.

  “Not yet, I have important news for a friend. We need to stop at Gamages, but the visit should not be a lengthy affair.”

  The two men set off, blissfully unaware of the fate suffered by the professor. The heavy downpour created the necessity for a carriage, but despite the relatively short distance to the transport, both men were soaked to the skin. With the Gamages store less than twenty minutes away there was little opportunity to dry out. As the carriage lurched to a stop, Isaac remained in his seat.

  “We can’t go through the store like this.” He called out to the driver that he should move around to the back of the store. Acknowledgement came in the form of a grunt, and the carriage jerked forward. A few minutes later, the carriage was stopping again. Tom stepped from the transport, his right foot disappearing into a deep puddle. He swore loudly. Isaac tried in vain to prevent himself from laughing.

  “Bad luck Tom. At least, you have brought a little joy to the gloom of the day.”

  “I’m glad to be of service,” he replied, as he also tried with difficulty to wrestle the boot from his foot. The task was proving difficult as he struggled to balance on one leg.

  “Look, take a seat on those crates. I will carry out my business with Rebecca, and then we shall retire to the Yard. Hopefully, we can warm our bones and indulge in some of William’s fine whiskey.” Tom nodded his agreement and proceeded to the crates, removing both sodden boot and sock.

  Isaac smiled, and then approached a man in the delivery yard of Gamages. With a small exchange of tin, he was allowed entrance and informed of Rebecca’s location. He moved through the storage area and entered the rear of the building. It was a maze of corridors, lined with stock of all shapes and sizes. He was beginning to feel he had taken the wrong rout
e, when, as he made a right turn, Rebecca was to his front. She was stood with her back to him and appeared to be counting stock. He felt his throat tighten and his lips dried as anxiety threatened to overwhelm his body. He closed eyes and forced himself to take a deep calming breath.

  “Rebecca…” He intended to sound confident, however, the high-pitched squeak that emanated from his throat resembled the sound that a young boy makes as he breaks through the barrier of puberty. If Rebecca had noticed the pitiful yelp, she did not let it affect her obvious delight at seeing him.

  “What are you doing here? I mean I’m happy you are, but my working hours are not yet finished.”

  “I know but I have excellent news. I found out that Barratt and Clyde are responsible for Mrs. Holbrook’s estate. In truth, they had not begun to look at her wishes regarding property and other assets. Tristan Clyde, however, is an old acquaintance and owed me a rather large favour. I was able to discuss Mrs. Holbrook’s estate at some length. I thought you would like to tell Sam and Mary that their home is secure.”