by G. P. Taylor
Mariah felt someone take hold of him by the toes of his boots and begin to drag him from the tomb. He kept his eyes tightly shut as his face brushed against the side of a man’s leg. It smelt of fish, beer and horses. In seconds he was dragged outside and laid on the cold stone.
‘This one’s fresh and a young ’un,’ said the man as he shone a lamp on Mariah’s cobwebbed, dirty face.
Three men gathered around and looked down at him.
‘Poor lad, to die at that age. Fancy coat, brass buttons – sell that, get a fine price.’
‘We’ll go inside and get another – when we find the old lass we can get that necklace and be off.’
Mariah could feel the man pulling at the buttons on his coat. He tried not to breathe. A hand slipped inside his coat and made him jerk.
‘He’s … He’s –’ Before he could finish, Mariah leapt to his feet. ‘ALIVE!’ screamed the man in fear as he saw the boy coming to life before his eyes. ‘I told you – quick!’
Mariah stared at the man, who stepped back towards the tomb. Two faces appeared through the narrow doorway. One mouthed several words without a sound. The man in front of Mariah held out the lamp as if to protect himself.
‘Back, demon child,’ he said, his voice quivering. ‘Be gone and leave us be.’
Mariah stepped forward and held out his hand towards him. The light shone and glistened on his golden finger.
‘Is it gold you want?’ Mariah asked in a croaking voice as if he were dead. ‘Then gold you shall have …’
A hand seized the man and dragged him in to the tomb. Another fumbled for the door and, grabbing the steel brace
that held fast the hinges, pulled it shut before Mariah could get any closer.
‘Leave us be, demon! We’ll take nothing from here – just go!’ said a muffled voice from inside the tomb.
‘And you’ll do this no more?’ Mariah croaked as he wedged the lock firmly shut.
‘Never again – just let us live, we meant you no harm,’ the man squeaked.
‘I’ll watch you from now on and when you sup in the Merchant, sat by the peat fire nice and warm, I’ll be there, watching you …’
‘Trust us – we’ll not do this again!’
‘Very well. I have spent an eternity in that tomb and you shall spend one night. In the morning you shall be set free.’
‘No! You can’t leave us – not in here – they’re dead.’
‘You would have taken what they had but are not prepared to pass the night in their company? Shall I join you?’
‘No,’ squeaked the man. ‘We are content in our predicament. Leave us be and torment us no more.’
‘I shall be gone, but in the dark hours you will never know if I am there or not.’ Mariah secured the door with a piece of marble and before leaving banged three times upon the wall. ‘Heed my words,’ he said in as miserable a voice as he could muster. ‘I’ll be back …’
In three steps he was away from the sepulchre. Mariah walked the path to the road and looked up at the boarding house where Lucius had gone in. He read the sign that hung above the gate: The Towers.
High above him he could see a light in a room with a blind drawn at the window. The flames of a roaring fire flickered boldly and cast the shadow of a man against the canvas. Mariah opened the gate and stepped into the garden. Later the door opened and Lucius stepped outside. As he did so, he buttoned
up his coat and pulled his collar. A man followed close behind.
‘Zogel will not regret this,’ the man said.
‘But will I regret this?’ Lucius asked. ‘I am not so bothered what Mister Zogel thinks. He enjoys what he has, and in that I care for him. If you cross me then you will know about it.’ He drew his thumb across his throat as if to cut it with a knife.
‘Business is business, my dear friend,’ the man said, ‘and it is in our mutual interest that all goes well. I have taken steps to ensure that we will get what we want. I have someone in authority who is bound to help us.’
‘Then do me one thing to prove yourself,’ asked Lucius quietly.
‘Anything.’
‘There is a tomb in the graveyard. The one by the gate. Inside there is someone who followed me. He is locked in. Make sure that he never escapes.’
‘I will do it tonight. My men shall see to it,’ the man replied.
‘See to it yourself, see to it yourself.’
[ 10 ]
Bloodhound
THERE was a frantic banging on the door to his room. It shook the walls and in his sleep he could hear Captain Jack shouting his name. The banging came again, louder and louder, shaking the plaster from the cracks in the ceiling. He tried to wake himself but his mind clung to sleep like a warm blanket.
‘Mariah, wake up! Sacha is missing,’ Charity barked.
The words echoed as Mariah leapt from the bed and turned the key in the lock. The door opened and Charity stepped quickly inside. He closed the door behind him as if he wanted no one to hear what he would say. Mariah looked surprised.
‘Where were you last night?’ he asked Mariah.
‘I followed Lucius to the Towers – he isn’t what he seems to be – he has a plan,’ Mariah replied as he rubbed his eyes.
‘Was Sacha with you?’ he asked quickly.
‘I saw her in the afternoon,’ he said, trying to think of the day before.
‘She’s gone, everything has been taken from her room and her father has no idea where she is. He came this morning asking to see her – said it was important.’
Mariah paused before he spoke. He looked about the room. ‘We argued – I thought nothing of it. It could be my fault.’
‘What in heaven should possess her to leave and take everything with her?’ Charity asked, as Mariah quickly got dressed.
‘She’d lied. On the night Hoetzendorf and the others were killed I lost Sacha. When I got back I found her and asked her where she had been. Her feet were covered in sand and her shoes had salt marks. She said she hadn’t left the hotel. I knew she was lying – I knew there was something she didn’t want me to know.’
‘What could be so important?’ Charity asked.
‘Titus salt said he had seen her. That she was in a dark place. It was a vision he’d had,’ Mariah replied.
‘Doesn’t mean to say he is right. Titus is a seer – especially when full of gin.’
‘I believed him. He saved my life and he’d seen that in a vision. Do you think someone could have taken her?’ Mariah asked as he fastened up his shirt and brushed his hair.
‘All I know is that it will take a great deal of explaining if the police get involved.’
‘Then I’ll find her – I’ll ask Titus to look for her.’
‘Zogel has asked to see you,’ Charity said. ‘He insists on you taking his breakfast.’
‘Then he will go hungry. I have to find her – it’s my fault, whatever has happened to her.’
‘And where would you start? Do you know something that you are not telling me, Mariah?’
Mariah stopped. He didn’t know where to start looking for her. She could be anywhere. Sacha could have gone and found another job. Just because she had left didn’t mean she was in any kind of danger. It was then that he saw the divining spectacles on the table by the bed. He picked them up as a thought came to him.
‘I could find her with these,’ he said as his face lit with anticipation. ‘Even at this time, surely there should be some trace of her.’
‘And what would you use? Her room is empty and swept clean. It’s as if she has never been there at all,’ Charity said impatiently through clenched teeth.
‘Do me one thing,’ Mariah said. ‘Take Zogel his breakfast and let me look for Sacha. Just this once?’ he pleaded as the guilt grew in his heart.
‘Just this once,’ Charity said with a smile. ‘But you will come and see me before you do anything else – and this time don’t leave the hotel.’
‘I promise,’ Mariah said as he p
ulled back the drapes from his window and let in the cold morning light.
As Charity took the steam elevator, Mariah went straight to Sacha’s room. The door was open and as Charity had said, it was swept clean. The floor was brightly polished and there was not one speck of dust. As he searched the cupboards and the wardrobe he thought it was as if she had never existed. Gone was all sign of his friend, all trace.
Mariah sat on the bed with his head in his hands. ‘You could have told me you were going,’ he said out loud as if she was in the room. He waited but there was no reply. He stared at the floor. A large black beetle crawled from under the floorboards and skittered across the shiny floor. It ran along the side of the wall towards him. Mariah followed it as it ran, wondering how fast it would be if it were the size of a man.
Just then he saw something that caught his eye. Had the beetle not just run over it, he would never have noticed. There, on the floor, were two small holes where once were nails that pinned the board. Six inches to the left, near to the bedside table, were two more empty nail holes. As Mariah looked even closer he could see that the varnish had been scratched away.
Mariah reached down and rattled the floorboard. It was loose. Within a minute he had lifted it from its place, and beneath he found a black silk bag tied with a length of gold braid. He quickly lifted it from its hiding place and placed it on the bed. He untied the string and tipped out the contents.
Mariah was surprised by what he found. There, scattered on the bed, was a handkerchief, a small bracelet, two gold coins, Sacha’s favourite scarf and a postcard of the Towers Guest House.
He looked at the back of the card. In scrawled black letters were the words: KEEP SILENT – MEET ME TONIGHT. The mark on the stamp clearly said it had been posted on the pier two days before. Mariah had no idea who Sacha would meet, and ‘keep silent’ meant nothing to him. He wondered why she should keep this secret.
What he did have was her scarf and he knew that the diving spectacles would work on this alone. Mariah wrapped the scarf around his neck and put all the other items back in the bag and then in his pocket.
Taking the divining spectacles, he flicked the frames onto his nose and tuned in the device. He could see nothing in the room: there were no faded twists of essence and no invisible footprints. It was only when he looked towards the door that he saw the faintest trace of where Sacha had been. Impressed upon the wood were the imprints of Sacha’s legs as if she had been thrown against it with great force. Kidnapped, he thought, as he searched for more signs of her abduction.
Mariah followed on. In the hallway by the entrance to the steam elevator was another imprint: it looked as if the side of her head had been pushed against the wooden floor. He pressed the button and heard the lift far below, juddering and shuddering as it came closer. It stopped; Mariah opened the gate and stepped inside. He pressed the express button for the ground
floor and held tight. Sacha’s essence was everywhere. Whoever had taken her had met with a struggle. The elevator was covered in red smears that could only be seen with the divining spectacles. It was obvious that there had been a fight.
The elevator descended quickly and in two seconds the grille door of the lobby opened. Dedalus Zogel stood in front of the door, arms folded.
‘Thought you’d be bringing me breakfast?’ he asked as he stared at Mariah through his gold monocle.
‘I had to –’ Mariah couldn’t think of what to say. He could see by the look on Zogel’s face that he wouldn’t believe any excuse.
‘Zogel gets what Zogel wants, boy. If I ask for you to bring me my food then I expect to see you.’
Mariah was about to reply but the words jumbled in his head. He took off the divining spectacles and put them in his pocket. Just as he was about to speak the door of the hotel burst open.
‘Is he here?’ asked Inspector Walpole, who was clutching a piece of paper. ‘I want to see Captain Charity now.’
Mrs Mukluk woke from her sleep. ‘Who shall I say wants to speak to him?’ she asked, as if she had heard everything said whilst she slept.
‘In his office, is he?’ Walpole asked as he pushed by Zogel and Mariah and set off along the lobby to Captain Jack’s office. Two constables and a scruffy old man in a tweed coat pulling an overweight bloodhound on a long leather leash followed Walpole. The dog sniffed as it went, drooling spittle on to the Persian rugs. ‘Charity! I need to see you, Charity,’ Walpole shouted excitedly.
Captain Charity stepped from his office before Walpole could break down the door. He looked at each man in turn before he spoke.
‘Unusual way to carry out your business, Inspector?’ he asked.
‘Not when evidence drops through your letter box,’ Walpole replied, shaking the piece of paper in Charity’s face and hardly able to contain his excitement any longer. ‘Arrived not but an hour ago, delivered in the first-class mail and look, it was posted last night.’
‘That Her Majesty’s Mail has surpassed itself in their delivery is always a cause for great celebration,’ Charity replied as he stepped back from Walpole, who was now hopping on the spot.
‘Not when you read what its says and see what it contains,’ Walpole said as he showed the envelope to Charity and neatly pulled out what looked like an old piece of stale bread. ‘Hexogenamite! Hexogenamite – I had it tested and it truly is. And let me read this: Search the Prince Regent and you will find even more – and the man who did it.’
‘Congratulations. And what may I ask does it have to do with me?’ Charity asked.
‘That’s how you killed them. I knew you’d done it and now I have the evidence. This is the most modern of explosives and it would take a military man to know how to use it. You are the killer. Nothing like a bit of old hexo to get rid of your enemies and it doesn’t matter that they were foreign. You can’t use that as an excuse. Foreigners are not exempt from the law of murder – not even Frenchmen,’ Walpole replied as he sniffed the explosive with his quivering nostrils.
‘Be careful you don’t explode,’ Charity said.
‘You should know, Captain. Can you tell me how it was done?’
‘I am not your man – look elsewhere and stop wasting my time,’ Charity replied angrily as he stepped back into his office and slammed the door.
Walpole banged on the door as Mariah and Zogel looked on.
‘I have a warrant to search the hotel. Mister Brough has brought his finest hound. Burgho was used to track the villain in the Whitechapel murders,’ Walpole said as the fat hound slavered on the rug, ‘and he’ll soon find any hexogenamite you have hidden.’
The office door opened suddenly. ‘Then let him look for it – be my guest. I only have eleven guests in the hotel so please frighten them away as well. Put me out of business – that’s your plan, Inspector Walpole. I can see the glee upon your face.’
Walpole nodded to Brough to bring the hound. Charity stepped aside as the man took the dog into the room. Zogel and Mariah came closer. Captain Charity watched as the hound sniffed the floor and then the furniture. It knocked over the lamp by the fire as it nuzzled under the rug. Walpole looked on, rubbing his hands.
‘Won’t take long, Charity – we’ll have it soon.’
‘You speak as if you already know where it is,’ Charity replied.
‘Did I not read that to you? How could I forget?’ he said as he held the note to his face and peered down his long nose.
‘Then I shall await my fate in the restaurant. Please tell me when you leave,’ Charity said as he nodded for Mariah to follow.
‘Do you think they’ll find something?’ Mariah asked as they sat at a large round table by the balcony.
‘Of course, Mariah. It is not just Lucius who has a terrible plan. Walpole will find more hexogenamite and I will be arrested.’ Charity handed Mariah a large bunch of keys. ‘Take these and run the hotel until I return. I made provision for this with Dunlop, Fraser and Jenvey – they have all the papers.’
‘Did you do it?’
Mariah asked.
‘I had every reason to kill each one. If Walpole finds that out, then he will have a case against me.’
‘But did you?’ he asked again.
‘No, Mariah. I would do no such thing. Believe me. I couldn’t believe they should all come here at the same time – on the eve of Zogel’s arrival. It is as if it was planned by a greater hand than mine.’
‘What would be a reason to kill them?’ he asked.
‘It is best if you do not know what they have done and what they intended to do. Beware the power behind the power, that’s all I can –’
‘So, Captain Jack Charity – innocent until proven guilty?’ Walpole said as he burst into the restaurant, unable to keep his smirk of contentment from erupting across his face. ‘How do you explain what the incredible Burgho discovered in your office?’
‘More hexogenamite hidden under the floor?’ Charity asked as he got to his feet.
‘So you confess?’ Walpole asked as he waved a large bag in the air. ‘Twenty slices of hexo – enough to blow up the hotel.’
‘You look for the wrong man, Walpole, and deep down you know it’s not me. How do I know it’s not stale bread?’
Walpole didn’t speak. He walked smugly to the fish tank and looked in through the thick glass. Breaking a piece off one slice of hexo, he dropped it into the tank. ‘Watch this,’ he said as a large codfish swirled around it and then snapped at the hexo suddenly.
They waited … and they waited. The fish swam back and forth looking for more food. Walpole broke off several more pieces and dropped them in the tank.
‘I wouldn’t do that, Inspector,’ Charity said as he stepped further away.
‘What you doing to my fish?’ Rhamses shouted from the kitchen door as the Inspector dropped yet another piece of explosive into the tank.
‘Proving a point – shut up and wash the dishes,’ Walpole replied without even looking to see who had spoken.
‘Not a wise thing to say,’ Mariah replied as Rhamses stalked across the restaurant holding a large copper pan.
