Blood Tribute (The Lucas Gedge Thrillers Book 1)

by Andy Emery

  She heard footsteps and low voices, the clinking of china, and then the scraping of a key in a lock. Someone had entered the door at one end of the corridor. Two figures appeared in front of the bars: a girl of about Hannah’s age, carrying something over her arm, and one of Ackerman’s thugs, who unlocked her cell door.

  He stepped in, watching Hannah, and the girl followed him. Hannah could now see that she was holding an emerald-green dress.

  ‘They want you to put this on,’ she said. ‘They say the shift you’re wearing is dirty and you’ll need to look your best when the men come to bid for you.’

  ‘Who are you?’ said Hannah. ‘How would you like to be sold off to some man you don’t know? I don’t understand how a girl like you can be involved in this.’

  The girl looked down at the floor. The man broke the uneasy silence.

  ‘Come on now, simmer down. We’ll just leave the dress for you to put on in your own time. As long as you do it in the next hour or so.’

  ‘And what if I don’t? You can’t make me put it on. See how many men will be interested in me, wearing this dirty shift.’

  The man sighed and looked at the girl. ‘Sally, it looks like Ackerman was right. If she won’t do it willingly…’ He stepped up to Hannah and put a hand to her mouth. She screamed, and fought him off, thrashing with her arms. But he forced her back onto the bunk, holding her down.

  ‘Do it!’ he hissed to the girl.

  She approached, taking a wad of material from a fold in her dress.

  Hannah cried out. ‘Sally! Whatever it is, don’t do it, you stupid girl! Can’t you think for yourself? What have they got on you?’

  But the girl’s resolve seemed to stiffen. She leaned past the shoulders of the man and shoved the material into Hannah’s face. Once again, the world slipped away.

  The man felt Hannah’s body go limp, and released her. He stood up.

  ‘Well done, Sally. It’s not the sort of thing a young lady likes to get involved with, I know.’

  ‘It’s alright. She had it coming anyway. Stuck-up cow. Shouldn’t have called me stupid.’

  ‘Well, well. I must remember to mind my Ps and Qs around you, young lady. Right, let’s get her stripped.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’ve got to get her into the dress, since she won’t do it herself. But before that, you’ll need to wash her hair. They won’t want to see it all dirty and matted like that.’

  ‘But is she going to come round in time for the auction?’

  ‘Yes, no problem. She’ll be a bit woozy, but that’s okay. Makes ’em more pliable, if you get my drift.’

  Sally started to unbutton Hannah’s dress.

  49

  The house on White Lion Street was buzzing with activity. Gedge had washed and was getting into some clean clothes as Rondeau came back down the stairs from visiting Darius, who was recovering from his injuries.

  ‘How is he?’ asked Gedge.

  ‘I think his pride is hurt, mostly. To think that those thugs managed to surprise him.’

  ‘I know how he feels. Ackerman told me I’ve lost my sharpness since I was in the army and working for the ID. He’s right. I’m going to have to get it back. But for now, I can assure you that when we go into the Clerkenwell prison tunnels, I won’t be charging through open doors with such gay abandon.’

  ‘I’m sure you will not. Where is Polly?’

  She bustled in. ‘I’m here. You’re going to need a new weapon for this little excursion.’ She was carrying an alternative revolver to replace the one he’d lost in the house.

  ‘Thank you, Polly. Do we have enough ammunition?’

  Polly went to a chest of drawers and produced several boxes. ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘Both Polly and I now have pistols,’ said Rondeau.

  ‘Good. And I’d like to carry a knife as well, as insurance.’

  ‘I’m afraid that would mean raiding the kitchen drawers,’ said Polly. ‘I don’t think we have any other knives.’

  The three of them were surprised by the sound of a sonorous voice from the doorway.

  ‘Use one of my knives, Mr Gedge. I have several.’

  Polly cried out. ‘Darius! What are you doing?’

  The Parthian stood in the doorway, wearing his coat and hat. Something they could not quite see was slung across his back.

  ‘I am coming with you.’

  Gedge stood up and walked over to the big man. ‘Are you sure you’re alright? Claude said you’d had an awful bang to the head.’

  ‘It will take more than that to keep me out of this fight. I feel bad that they overpowered me at the house. I let you down, Mr Gedge.’

  ‘Nonsense. I was equally foolish, and I paid for that as well. But I know what you mean. It’s a matter of honour for both of us.’

  ‘Yes, but the most important thing is to get your daughter out of danger.’

  ‘And any other young victims that we may find. Now, aside from your knives, do you have any other weapons?’

  Darius reached behind his back and revealed what he had strapped there: a black crossbow. ‘It is compact and has a short range, but it can be used even in confined spaces.’

  ‘Excellent. It’s agreed, then. I must say it’s comforting to have a fourth ally. We don’t know how many of them we’ll have to fight down there. Claude, what can you tell us about this prison?’

  ‘Prisons had existed on the site for a couple of centuries. The last one was built about forty years ago. It housed short-stay prisoners, not hardened criminals. It is most well-known for part of its boundary wall being blown up by Fenian terrorists in ’67. A few years ago, it was decided that it was unnecessary to the London prison system. The above-ground buildings were demolished, and the new Myddleton School is to be built on the site. However, the basement part of the old prison is going to be retained below the school, perhaps to provide storage space. My sources tell me that the underground tunnels and rooms remain in an excellent state of preservation. They must have been barricaded, but Ackerman’s men will inevitably have forced their way in. Unfortunately, we don’t have anything remotely resembling a plan or layout.’

  ‘Thank you for that, Claude. Now, we mustn’t lose any more time. Is everyone ready?’

  As Rondeau opened the door, he found a man on the doorstep, in the act of raising his hand to knock. For a few moments Gedge didn’t recognise the figure. When he’d last seen him a year ago, he’d been in fatigues, not a crisp suit and new bowler hat.

  ‘Good evening, Captain Gedge,’ said Major Hugh Garland. ‘Christ, you look bloody awful. What’s happened to you?’

  ‘Garland! You’re somebody I never thought I’d see again, or hoped I wouldn’t, perhaps. Major Garland, of the Intelligence Department, meet Claude and Polly Rondeau, and Darius. Major Garland interviewed me after that debacle in Afghanistan. You’ll have to excuse the way I look, Garland. The other fellow ended up in a worse state, I assure you.’

  ‘Enchanted!’ said Garland. ‘You seem to be in a rush to leave, but please, allow me to have just a few minutes of your time. I have some information that could be important. And by the way, Gedge, you know those questions had to be asked, and I had to tell you the truth about the bigger picture. If you want to blame anyone, it should be Bellhouse.’

  Gedge shrugged. ‘I do, really. And I know what happened was inevitable, and you probably had my best interests at heart. Frankly, though, you’re the last person I expected to see. I’ve got important things to do now, so please state your business. I hope it’s something that can be dealt with quickly.’

  ‘These important things. Are they to do with the disappearance of your daughter?’

  ‘Have you been keeping tabs on me, Garland? Already? With me back in the country only a few weeks ago?’

  ‘You shouldn’t be surprised. I do work for the intelligence department, after all. And quite frankly, in that short time you seem to have got involved in a lot of hairy business. I’m sorry about
your daughter, of course. But there’s also the small matter of a corpse wedged in a broken window, leaking blood onto passers-by below, not to mention a couple of amateur confidence men parcelled up neat and tidy, ready for the police, complete with labelled piles of evidence.’ Garland raise his eyebrows.

  ‘There must be some other renegade ex-army type wandering around East London.’

  ‘Let’s stop this fencing. I was asked to watch you. That idiot you chased at the zoo. He was one of our men. Not a very good one. But at some point I was to contact you with a proposal to rejoin the service.’

  ‘What?’

  Garland held up his hand. ‘Yes. Ludicrous, I know. But while I was watching you, I realised that somebody else was doing likewise. I’ve followed it up, and there’s a rogue Special Branch man, operating out of Leman Street police station.’

  ‘I know. Yes, I’m not as green as you seem to think, Garland. He’s Irish, he’s got a limp, and he’s the middle man between a gang of pimps and people-traffickers, and their upper-class clientele. That’s the same gang who’ve kidnapped my daughter. Hence the urgency. So maybe I know more about him than you. But what about his name? Do you know that?’

  ‘Yes. He’s Garrett Naseby, an inspector. He informed on the Irish Republican Brotherhood. He was involved in some pretty hideous goings-on over the water, and if anyone from the IRB ever gets hold of him… In fact, his limp is the result of an attempt on his life. He proved so valuable to our Special Irish Branch, as it used to be called, that he became one of them. Now it seems he’s loyal to nobody, maybe never was. Unfortunately, he seems to have gone to ground. He hasn’t been seen at the police station in twenty-four hours. Even his Special Branch chums are scratching their heads as to where he’s got to.’

  ‘He won’t be seen there again, unless it’s in handcuffs. The gang is auctioning off the abducted girls tonight.’

  ‘You mean you know where this is taking place?’

  ‘The remaining underground section of the former Clerkenwell prison.’

  ‘I know the place. So what are you going to do?’

  ‘Whatever it takes to rescue Hannah and the other girls, and bring the gang to justice. Before you ask about the police, there isn’t the time, I hope you realise that?’

  Garland steepled his hands, and looked hard at Gedge. ‘You’re talking about waging a private war on the streets of our capital. And this from the man who wanted to live the quiet life.’

  ‘Let’s just say the scales have fallen from my eyes. When a loved one is in danger, desperate measures are called for. You’re not going to try to stop me, are you, Garland? Because I won’t allow that.’ Gedge produced his revolver from underneath the table and pointed it at Garland’s chest.

  ‘There’s no need for that, Gedge. You don’t seem to have realised it yet, but I’m on your side. I won’t try to stop you, but the authorities have to be involved at some point, if only to pick up the pieces afterwards. Tell me, what was the name of the plain-clothes policeman who called here the other day?’

  ‘Inspector Jack Cross,’ said Rondeau. ‘Also of Leman Street. He is a good man, Major.’

  ‘And he has the authority to command a squad of men, and he already knows about the background? Listen. You go now, do whatever you need to. I’ll follow with Cross and however many men he can raise, and we’ll descend on Clerkenwell like wolves on the fold. The building is G Division turf, but we’ll sort that out afterwards.’

  ‘Alright. Thank you for the help. But now we really must go.’

  As they were leaving, Rondeau moved next to Gedge, and spoke in a low voice.

  ‘Do you recall me telling you about that journalist’s articles of a few years ago? “The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon”?’

  ‘Yes, we talked about the symbolism.’

  ‘Well, it goes on, it seems. We are about to enter the labyrinth itself, and confront the minotaur in his own lair.’

  Gedge nodded. ‘And prevent him receiving his last sacrifice.’

  50

  The world was blurry, vague. Hannah was swaying slightly, standing in a line with other girls of a similar age. She didn’t seem to be able to focus well or see in any detail, but she felt a distant sense of contentment.

  She became aware that three people were moving down the line, stopping at each girl in turn. They reached her. They looked fuzzy, as if she were seeing them through frosted glass. She just about recognised two of the figures. One was Sally, the girl who’d drugged her. The other was Ackerman. She winced as she heard him speak.

  ‘This is the Gedge girl. The daughter.’

  The unknown man replied in an accent that might have been Irish.

  ‘Her family is certainly paying a high price for their involvement with us, Ackerman. But that’s only right, as they caused us so much grief. Nice and placid now, I see. Looks fine in that dress. I like the way you’ve got her hair, falling loose over the shoulders. They like that “free” look. There’s just one thing I would change.’

  He stepped towards Hannah, and she felt his hands at the top of her dress. He undid a couple of buttons and pulled the dress back at the shoulders, exposing her cleavage. The man looked round at Sally.

  ‘There, you see? Tempting, but not over the top. Our clients may have all sorts planned for them in the privacy of their own homes, but they don’t want to see too much displayed at this stage. Just a hint of what’s on offer.’

  51

  The site of the former prison at Clerkenwell now resembled some alien desert landscape. Most of the area had been levelled, and there were half a dozen huge piles of bricks and other debris from the demolition, each one at least forty or fifty feet high. A brown-pink dust covered every surface.

  Gedge, Polly, Rondeau and Darius had taken a long way round to avoid a line of hansom cabs that were drawn up in a side street around the corner from the construction site. They presumed these were the transport for Ackerman’s clients. They had found it surprisingly easy to get through the wooden paling fence around the site, and were now picking their way across the weird barren expanse. Gedge was aware that the flat areas between the mounds of brick would be exposed to lookouts.

  Darius was taking the lead, seemingly feeling no ill effects from his earlier beating. He was passing around the edge of one of the piles of detritus when he suddenly flattened himself into cover and motioned for Gedge to join him. He pointed ahead, and Gedge saw a low wooden building on the sheltered side of the next mound. A man was standing next to it, guarding the entrance.

  Gedge kept his voice low. ‘It makes sense that they’d have a hut of some kind covering the entrance to the basement, to prevent it getting filled up with all this building rubble. That may well be our objective. But we will need to silence that man. We cannot allow him to raise the alarm.’

  The Parthian raised the crossbow, drew back the string, and slotted a bolt into the groove. He brought the butt up to his right shoulder and aimed at the head of the man outside the hut. He had started to pace about, and Darius waited, waited until he had moved several yards to one side of the building. Darius gently squeezed the trigger. The crossbow made a soft swishing sound. The man’s head jerked backwards, and his body crumpled to the ground.

  Gedge ran as fast as he could to the man. He tugged the body back behind the corner of the hut, so that anyone emerging would not immediately see him. He took the revolver tucked into the man’s waistband, and beckoned to the others, who came running over. Rondeau brought up the rear, puffing and blowing with the effort.

  Gedge looked over the building. It was a simple wooden shack, about twenty feet by ten with a flat roof. Apart from the door there were two visible windows, but they had both been painted over. Some light issued out through gaps in the paint on the window-frames and around the cracks in the door.

  He signalled for them all to remain silent, and crept up to the door.

  He put his ear to the gap. Nothing.

  He waited a few seconds, then trie
d the doorknob. It gave, and the door opened inwards with a slight creak. As it opened wider, Gedge caught sight of a second man seated at a table to the right. He was asleep, with his head on the table, emitting a soft, rumbling snore.

  Gedge looked around the rest of the room. It contained just three more chairs and a few coats hung up on racks. At the back of the room, he could see the top of a staircase, the steps leading down.

  Darius slipped into the room, stood behind the sleeping man and tapped him on the shoulder. With a grunt, the man came round, then started suddenly, as Gedge, Polly and Rondeau came into view. Before the man could make a sound, Darius clamped his hands over his mouth, and pulled him off the chair. Within a few seconds, he was sleeping even more soundly; bound, gagged and pushed up against the wall out of sight.

  ‘My friends,’ said Rondeau. ‘I fear I may be an encumbrance below. I suggest I wait here as a lookout, so that I may warn you if any more of our enemies arrive.’

  Gedge nodded. ‘Okay, Claude. It may be cramped down there, and as you say, a lookout would be useful.’

  Polly embraced her guardian for a moment and kissed him lightly on the cheek. As the other three made for the stairs, Rondeau settled himself in the corner of the room, so that the table and chairs gave him some cover and he could clearly see the door. He kept the pistol ready in his lap.

  Gedge peered down the staircase. He could see that it ended in what looked like a softly lit corridor running off to the left. As the stairs were made of stone, they would be able to descend silently, although they had no idea what was around the corner. Gedge was thinking about making some sort of noise to attract the attention of anyone waiting there, when Polly nudged him. Out of the bag she always carried slung around her shoulder, she had produced a small mirror. She pointed down the stairs and whispered.