The noise of them opening the door to the roof was the last push he needed and Oliver Shandy went sailing from the roof of Wild Boar Hall and plummeted to the ground.
Chapter 38
When the rush to find who had tried to kill James, came to a fruitless end, Edwards found himself back on the steps with James and the maid, Lisa.
“I can’t thank you enough for saving me,” James said to her. His hands were shaking and Edwards knew this was the adrenaline starting to wear off and the shock to come on. There was something else, however, something that made Edwards look more closely at the conversation going on in front of him.
“I saw it coming, I had to,” Lisa replied. They looked at one another and Edwards saw at once, what was going on- James had feelings for this girl! He couldn’t believe it. He thought of the Alderman as a completely sexless being, but now look at this! He would never have bet on this in a thousand years. The girl didn’t seem to be interested in James, not in the same way at least, but she looked on him kindly.
Edwards had noticed Lisa himself, she was very attractive and that was all that mattered in his book most of the time. So far, he hadn’t shown her any attention at all, as he knew Stapleton was fond of her charms, but now that James was interested in her, it might be fun to start. James would never lower his standards to be with someone like this servant, but like all men, he was not in control of what his heart desired. This woman was what James wanted, and that meant for now, she was what Edwards wanted. He smiled and joined in the conversation,
“You’re lucky to have such a beautiful guardian angel, Alderman!” he said walking to them and patting James on the back. Lisa blushed and smiled and James also went red in the face.
“I was just thanking, Miss Lisa, for her aid,” James said. Edwards smirked at his calling her ‘Miss Lisa’.
“It was lucky I saw it coming down,” Lisa said.
“Lucky indeed,” Edwards said, “You would have made quite the mess on the steps here for poor Miss Lisa to have to clean up.” He laughed heartily at his own joke. James looked sour, as he would have expected, but Lisa smiled at the joke too. Edwards winked at her and she looked away shyly. These maids were always the same, he thought, no challenge at all in them.
That night as she lay on his bed, Edwards walked around the candlelit room shirtless and glistening with sweat. She looked at him doe-eyed and grinning.
“Take me to Dublin when you go back,” she said. Edwards smiled at her as he started his evening exercise routine.
“You want to work in my house?” he asked making sure she was back in her place at once and wasn’t getting any silly notions about herself.
“If that’s all that’s on offer,” she nodded.
“It is,” he confirmed. “I can’t take you with me,” he went on, “That would be bad form. You would have to give it some time and then leave here for Dublin and then I could hire you.”
“You think Lord Stapleton would be upset if you took me away?”
“I know he would.”
“You don’t care about what he thinks,” Lisa challenged him.
“True,” Edwards smiled at her knowing, “But it would still be bad form.”
“So how long more do you expect me to suffer at his hands before I can come to work for you?”
“A month should be long enough,” he smiled, “Then you can come and suffer at my hands.”
“A month!”
“Yes, at the minimum,” he snapped not happy that she hadn’t enjoyed his little joke. Lisa flinched a little and pulled the sheet over her as though it might offer some protection. Why did women always do that, he wondered.
“Is your house as big as this one?” she asked him after a few moments silence.
“Not even close, I live in the city. None of the houses are this big. My house in England would be close to it though, but I rarely go there anymore.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Dublin has been much more entertaining the last few years,” he smiled.
“All we ever hear about Dublin down here is murder, murder, murder,” Lisa said with distaste.
“Exactly my meaning,” Edwards laughed. Lisa looked a little confused by this but she didn’t ask what he meant.
Her talk of Dublin reminded him that he was to meet the post runner again in the morning. More news was due from Dublin and he wanted to be sure no one in the house heard about it yet.
“What will the Alderman think of you coming to work for me?” he asked Lisa.
“I don’t think he’ll think anything of it,” she said.
“You haven’t noticed that he’s in love with you?” The question was so toneless that it took her by complete surprise.
“What?” she said, “He doesn’t love me!”
“You haven’t noticed?”
“No,” she said shaking her head and trying to think if it was possible this was true.
“Perhaps he will try to steal you away from my house when we are all back in Dublin,” Edwards smiled.
“You are playing with me,” Lisa said but she didn’t sound confident.
“Not at all,” Edwards assured her. “But don’t worry, the Alderman lives by a strict moral code, you have nothing improper to fear from him.”
“You make an odd match,” she observed. Edwards grinned at this,
“We certainly do,” he said, “We certainly do.”
Chapter 39
On the same day that the public heard that Spencer had escaped from Swifts Hospital, there was a second murder in Cabbage Patch off Cathedral Lane. This murder had taken in place in the room next to the one formerly occupied by Dinny Collins. A man called Stanley Turner had his throat slit after someone gained entry to his room and then his body was dumped out the window. There had been no witnesses this time, but the rumour mill was in full swing since the red face of the devil had been seen in the earlier killing of Collins.
Now that everyone knew Spencer was free, it was assumed that he was the killer- despite the fact he’d still been in the Hospital when Collins died. People pointed out that Spencer was now cloaking himself in the guise of the Devil that he’d claimed was haunting him. They thought now that he’d made up this story so as to avoid the gallows and be placed somewhere he would find it easier to escape from.
The streets took on an eerie evening silence as once more people lived in fear of meeting a grisly end after dark. People called on the Alderman to do something but he was nowhere to be found. Sheriff Dunbar’s office was inundated with letters and people calling asking for a massive search for the escaped killer.
People wondered if the old Army friends of Spencer had been responsible for his escape. The official reason was that Nationalist Fenian Rebels had gained access to the cannon at the Barracks at the Phoenix Park and fired on the Hospital. A General was convalescing in the main hospital but the rebels had mistook which building they were aiming for and fired at the wrong one. The people did not believe this; however, they thought it sounded too far-fetched. What they couldn't figure out was why the army would want Spencer to be free again.
During daylight hours, the streets were getting restless and the complaints of the government ‘forgetting’ the people grew louder. At night those who worked in or frequented taverns or whiskey cabins finished their nights in fearful runs home lest they fall victim to Spencer.
As was always the case, sightings and reports of attacks where the victim had only barely escaped were rife. People would gather round a hysterical woman as she told of their attacks. What nobody had seemed to notice so far, was that with this spate of killings, so far there had not been a female victim. If someone had brought this up, then no doubt the answer would have come back ‘It’s only a matter of time.’
The Parish Watch, night wardens of the city streets began to come under increasing pressure from the public to do their jobs—they were well known to spend the night playing cards or getting so drunk they would fall asleep at their posts. Ins
tead of hounding and rounding up streetwalkers, they were hissed at and told to seek out the killer. This only led to the men of the Watch hiding away most of the evenings.
It was a terrible state for the Liberties to be living in such fear once more. They felt they had been through more than enough, had experienced more than their fair share of horror, gore and death. It would be hard to find anyone in the city of Dublin who did not agree with this sentiment.
Chapter 40
Mary, Kate and Sarah had been particularly careful about being out at night, especially since Mary had been chased. None of them would ever go out at night now, or even dusk unless at least one of the others were with them. Each evening as the stall closed, all three women would close it up and lock it away and walk home together. As they walked, each would be looking in a different direction so as to be sure no one would be able to sneak up on them. They rushed along the streets, almost running and didn’t feel safe at all until they were in Edwards’ apartment with the door locked behind them.
Since the two killings at Cabbage Patch, however, they no longer felt completely at ease even when they were inside. They were no longer in the area where any of the murders of either the Dolocher, or the Shadow of the Dolocher had taken place, but they had been so personally touched by all of these things (Sarah to the least extent in that she had never been attacked herself) that they knew it would only take a moment for that to change.
Mary thought about the severed rat at the window and the night she was chased. Was it possible these two things had been the same person? Was she being targeted? She didn’t want to bring this idea up with the others but she wondered if they already thought the same thing. She stood at the window looking out into the blustery night, the wind rippling along the surface of the Liffey outside. It seemed like there was always one of them at the window nowadays, as if they were keeping watch, but they hadn’t done this purposely; it just seemed that every time one of them left the window, it would not be long before naturally another would stand there and look out.
As she looked out thinking of Spencer’s escape, she saw a man dashing across the river, his head covered in a held up cloak against the driving rain. She could hear his feet slap on the wet ground and she watched his progress as he came across the road and then to her consternation into the alcove entrance to the building below her. She listened for a moment and heard him fumble with keys and then open the lock. This assured her that it was someone who lived in the building and she relaxed a little.
“So, Spencer on the prowl again.” Sarah said bringing up the conversation they’d been avoiding so far. Kate looked to Mary for her reaction to this.
“He’s out alright,” she said without turning to look at them.
“Do you think it's him, carrying out the murders, I mean?” Sarah asked. Mary turned and looked at her.
“I don’t think so,” she said shaking her head slowly, “I have doubts that he ever did any of them.”
“Don’t forget he was still in the hospital when the earlier murders on Angel Alley happened,” Kate said.
“And also when I was chased that night,” Mary added. Sarah nodded at the sense in this logic. “It’s hardly likely the first thing he would do when he got out would be to copy a murder he probably hadn’t even heard about yet.” Mary found herself being defensive of Spencer and it was a surprise to her. She must really think him innocent.
The conversation went no further.
A heavy whack and the splintering of wood startled them all into a scream. Each jumped and they formed a huddle in the middle of the room.
“What was that?” Kate said. Neither of the others knew or answered.
“Mary!” a shouting voice came, filled with anger from the hallway outside. “I’m coming for you!” There was another huge thud and more splitting and cracking of wood. They looked to the door and saw it had partially given way and a shining axe blade was being wiggled free for another smash at it. It wouldn’t hold up to much more of this.
“Get away from there!” Sarah screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Murderer!” Mary shouted, thinking this the most likely thing to raise the alarm in the house. It worked. Shouting voices came from all over the building and then that of next door as people repeated the refrain of ‘Murderer!’
Though a gap in the wood, Mary saw the hooded figure outside look around and then hesitate a moment before running away.
“He’s going down the stairs!” she shouted and all three of the women rushed to the window to see where he went. Stamping foot moved all over the building and doors opened and closed. More shouting ensued and in general, there was complete confusion as no one else had yet seen the man in question.
As the women looked down to the doorway, a black figure emerged at speed and slipped on the wet ground. The clatter of his axe head on the ground reverberated and the man scrambled to his feet, his cloak wrapping awkwardly around him, and set off running again across the river.
“Hey!” a voice shouted and another man came out of the building and set off after him. This man was heavier and older, however and he didn’t have the legs he believed and only barely made it to the midway point of the bridge before he gave up. The hooded man had been putting distance into him all the time and soon disappeared on the far side of the river.
“Did you see who it was?” Kate asked Mary.
“No, only the cloak,” she answered. The man down below came puffing back towards the building and picked up the axe as he passed it.
“Thank you!” Sarah called out the window to the man, but he did not look up and simply re-entered the building.
“We need to get out of here,” Kate said, “Tonight.”
Chapter 41
The nighttime knock on Mullins’ door was most unwelcome. Nothing good ever came to your door after dark in his experience. He sat for a moment in silence wondering if it was possible they might believe he was not at home. It wasn’t likely, he had a fire going and it was sure to be seen from outside. Wearily he raised to his feet and walked to the door. The pounding on the door had barely ceased in the time since it started.
“Who is it?” he asked from behind the closed door.
“It’s me Tim, please open up!” came the frightened urgent voice of Kate.
“Please?” another female voice said, one that he knew he’d heard before but couldn't place.
He opened the door to see his estranged wife, Mary Sommers and Sarah from the market all standing in the rain. Their faces white with fright and tears running down their faces. It was quite a remarkable sight.
“What’s happened?” he asked ushering them all in to the heat.
“Our home was attacked by the killer!” Kate said. Mullins shut the door,
“What?”
“Someone was trying to get Mary; they started smashing down our door with an axe!” Sarah said.
“Someone after Mary?” Mullins repeated as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing.
“We don’t know who it was, he was wearing a hooded cloak,” Mary said seeming to be the most calm of the group.
“One of the men chased him away!” Kate said sobbing. She fell into Mullins’ chest and put her arms around him. It was the most natural thing in the world for him to hold her to him in comfort.
“There, there, girls,” he said, “You’re all safe now.”
Sitting them all down at the table, he started to reheat some stew he’d made earlier.
“You’ll have to share from the pot, I’m afraid,” he said laying out three spoons on the table. He’d smashed most of the crockery in the house in rages since Kate had left and it seemed now to have been a very silly thing to have done. He got by now on one bowl and one cup, both of which were dirty from his own dinner and drink of tea.
“That’s fine,” Mary said, “I don’t think we are all that hungry to be honest.”
“I suppose not,” Mullins said. He didn’t quite know what to say to the women or what he
could do for them to make them feel better.
“Tim?” Kate said interrupting his thoughts.
“Would it be possible for us to, perhaps stay here tonight?”
“Here?” he asked in surprise before he could stop it.
“There’s really no problem if we can’t,” Kate quickly backtracked. Sarah looked at her in annoyance,
“We need somewhere to stay,” she whispered.
“Of course, you can stay here,” Mullins said. The sight of the three women crying had thrown him completely and his thoughts seemed all jumbled up. “You’ll have to share the bed.”
“Oh no, we can sleep in here on the floor,” Mary said, “We don’t want to impose by taking your bed!”
“No, no,” Mullins replied, “I won’t hear of it. I can’t have three women sleeping on my floor while I’m like lord of the manor in the bed. I insist,” he finished with a hand of finality in the air.
Despite their protestations, Mullins had all three of them eat what was left of the stew and then huddle by the fire under some blankets to stop the chill of their walk in the rain setting in. He didn’t know where the girls had been living so he wasn’t sure how far they had to come in the foul weather. He didn’t ask in case the answer was not to his liking.
The girls recounted the story to him and he listened trying to make sense of it. They told him of the severed rat too and asked if he thought the two things might be related.
“It sounds like it to me,” Mullins mused. He was aware of the murderer who was killing people in the same place twice and he didn’t feel this was the work of the same person. “Do you know anyone who might have a reason to come after you, Mary?” he asked. She thought for a moment and then shook her head. Mullins could not imagine anyone wanting to do the young girl harm either, but he knew it had been done in the past and by the looks of things someone meant at the very least to scare her badly now. “You’re sure it was a man, and not a boy playing tricks on you, to frighten you?” he asked her.
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