Many nights Muc would go out and drink and let loose talk become personal insults to him, fighting any man who was not smart enough to turn and run from him. Edwards had once been in the wild man’s hands before but thankfully had come off unhurt that time. He didn’t know what Muc was up to now, however, what his endgame was. He’d known Edwards was having the boy trained for a reason but Edwards had never divulged even the slightest hint of that to him. Had Muc then been watching the whole time since Olocher left his stable to come and live in Edwards’ house?
No matter what he was up to or what he was after, there was no doubting how formidable an opponent Lord Muc was. Edwards would speak to him of course and try to smooth things out without any escalation of hostilities, but he wasn’t sure what the outcome of that would be. Muc was not a man overly swayed by money and trying to kill him would be something Olocher might not be up to.
It was an unexpected turn in events but now as he sat by the fire, Edwards felt he should have known Muc would be a problem later on. He’d let the boy Olocher’s sentimentality for his teacher sway him from the idea of killing Muc before the rest of the plan started and now he was living to regret that decision.
Edward’s had often asked of his enemies, “What do you fear?” as he plotted against them but he knew that this question was irrelevant when it came to Lord Muc. The man had no family and no ties; he wouldn't care a jot if his lands and money were taken away and no prison he could think of would be able to hold such a beast. Reasoning and persuasion were the only things Edwards had in his arsenal against this foe. It they didn’t work they would have to serve at least as a distraction long enough for Olocher to kill him. If not, all was over before it even began.
Chapter 59
“You’re a man seemingly oblivious to any personal wants,” Daniel Deek said to James not long into their nighttime journey to Dublin.
“I don’t see what you mean?” James said, sorry that a conversation was starting up.
“I have met men like you before, men who are good through and through,” Deek said, “You want nothing, is what I mean.”
“I’m no more good through and through than any other man,” James said.
“I don’t agree; you try to atone for the past I believe?”
“Perhaps,” James admitted.
“I think you have done this many times over, and you will continue to do it until you draw your last breath.”
“There is no atoning for what I have done,” James said, “I only wish that there was.”
“You killed a man?” Deek asked.
“Not with my own hand, but yes.”
“That is something easily atoned for.”
“You think so?” James looked at the Devil worshipper- perhaps that was too far by way of a description of him.
“I do,” Deek answered but did not move to add to this.
They rode on a time in silence.
“You expect to find traces of the Devil in Dublin, I assume?” James asked.
“I do,” Deek nodded, “Wherever there is man, there is the Devil,” he smiled.
“And the more people, the more likely it is you will see his trace?”
“You understand,” Deek nodded, “I have no doubt you have seen plenty of his work in your time.”
“I’m afraid I have a lot to see still.”
“I think you may be more correct than you know.” It was an odd phrase in Deek’s accent and James wondered what exactly he meant by this. Did he too somehow know about the murders that had happened in Dublin? James did not think so, if anyone had been getting their post the murders would have been mentioned at the dinner tables back in Wild Boar Hall. Still, there was an air of knowing in this strange foreigner and it uneased James. Even Edwards seemed to have been ill at ease in this man’s presence and that was something James had never seen before.
Outside in the cool evening, they could hear Owens start up whistling a tune to pass the time. Dunbar’s horse was falling behind and they would not see him again before Dublin. James had told the idiot to get a fresh horse and Lord Stapleton would see that his was sent back to him when it was rested. Dunbar hadn’t listened so now as punishment he would have to trail the road home in darkness and alone. Perhaps he would learn his lesson this time.
“Is it crime that brings you back to Dublin in such a rush, Mr James, or something personal,” Deek said and then quickly added, “If it is not too rude a question?”
“Not at all,” James said thinking Deek was going to know all about it soon enough anyway. “I come back so fast as there have been murders in Dublin. The post was not getting to me at Wild Boar Hall so I only found out this evening.”
“You say ‘murders’,” Deek said, “You mean more than one?”
“Yes, four so far, all possibly linked.”
“The same person killed all four?” Deek clarified.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Who were these people?”
“No one I have ever had cause to meet, just normal people going about their business.”
“Quite sad,” Deek said looking out the window, “But then, the regular people are most often the ones affected when the Devil does his work.” James nodded; this was not something he felt he could argue with.
James shivered awake to see grey mist through the windows and the unmistakable light of a dull dawn. He struggled to rise up from his slumped position and found his body ache and groan against it, stiff as he was. He didn’t recall feeling sleepy and he always hated waking from a sleep he’d not intentionally fallen into. It took a moment for him to even recall where he was going and then at the same time he remembered Deek was here with him.
When he looked over to where the man had sat before, however, he found only an empty seat. James looked out the window and rubbed his eyes. He didn’t see Deek’s dark horse either.
“Owens!” he called out.
“Yes, Sir?” the man's voice came back.
“Where is Mr Deek gone?”
“He rode up here with me for a while, Sir, and then he got on his horse and went on ahead. He said he liked to enter a new city on horseback and find his own bearings, Sir.”
“I see,” James said thinking it a little odd. “Are we nearly there?”
“Another hour should do it, Sir,” Owens answered.
James sat back and pulled the blanket over his shoulders against the morning chill. He was cold and hungry and the sleep didn’t seem to have done him any good. He thought of his warm home, his own bed. It would be many hours he supposed before he would get to enjoy it but at least it was something to look forward to all day.
The newssheets would be in the house and he would read up on those when he got in to try get abreast of what had been happening. It would be best then if he went to the streets and let it be known that he was back and looking into the murders. No doubt there would be some shouted insults and people asking where he’d been while all had been going on, but that was to be expected.
He supposed Edwards would be about too, fishing for information, and then annoyingly knowing much more than James did about the whole affair. It would be better to work without Edwards but James knew it was in his own interest to keep him on side when a killer was on the loose. His avenues of information would be forever off limits to James and Edwards knew this.
It looked like everything was frustratingly back to square one for Alderman James.
Chapter 60
Mullins watched Larry being put through his paces by Muc. This training coupled with the boys work at the smithy was already starting to show in his physique. He was looking lean and small muscles were beginning to develop. His confidence was also growing and these were all things that pleased Mullins. He felt that the boy could go on to be someone capable of looking after himself when it came time to finish his apprenticeship. This was something he never thought to worry about when Scally was the apprentice; that boy was more than capable of looking after himself and now he was of
f working for some rich man somewhere in the city. Mullins thought it a little odd that he never saw Scally about or that he never came by to say hello. But then, Scally’s mother had moved away too and there was probably no call for him to be in this area at all any more. Mullins wished him well, but he still missed Scally all the same.
“Go and wash yourself,” Muc said to Larry, “We’re done for the day.”
“Thank God!” Larry said letting his shoulders fall and stretching out his neck. Mullins laughed and Muc came over to him.
“What has the serious face on you?” he asked Mullins.
“You heard about the commotion at my house the other night, I suppose?” Mullins said.
“I did,” Muc nodded.
“Something similar happened at the place the girls were staying before they came to me; that was actually why they came to me in the first place.”
“Dead rats?”
“Only the one the first time, it came in through the window and then someone tried to break down the door to get in to them.”
“So they came running to the trusty old blacksmith,” Muc mocked him smiling.
“Yes,” Mullins said not raising to the bait, “They seem to be fixated on Mary for some reason.”
“Any idea why?”
“No, she doesn’t seem to know either.”
“So why are you telling all this to me,” Muc grinned. Mullins could see his gleaming face knowing he was about to be asked for a favour.
“I was hoping you might look into it for me,” Mullins said.
“Find out who it is and sort them out?”
“Find out who they are why they are doing it.”
“And then sort them out?” Muc laughed.
“If it comes to that,” Mullins sighed. Now he knew the bargaining would begin and he wondered what Muc would want of him.
“What’s in this for me?” Muc asked.
“The satisfaction of helping young Mary out,” Mullins suggested.
“I’ve helped her before and I didn’t get any satisfaction from it.”
“What do you want, then?” Mullins asked. Muc looked up into the sky and put a hand on his chin as if he was deep in thought. Mullins did not understand why everything had to be such a show with Lord Muc. If he was interested in showmanship perhaps he should have followed a career on the stage.
Muc looked Mullins up and down then and smiled, and then looking back in his face said,
“I’ll do this on one condition.”
“Which is?” though Mullins already knew by the look on his face what it was. Muc laughed,
“I know you think you know what I’m going to ask, but you’re only partly right.”
“Which part?”
“I want you to promise to fight me, once you have yourself back in better shape,” Muc said. Mullins thought about it a moment and then nodded,
“Fine,” he said. It wasn’t something he was committing to today and he didn’t intend getting into any better shape than he was at the moment. That would put that fight off indefinitely.
Muc spat on his hand and held it out for Mullins to do the same. He hesitated a moment then returned the gesture and shook hands vigorously with Muc.
“We could sell tickets to this thing when it’s finally happening!” Muc said giddily.
“I won’t be putting on any kind of show,” Mullins warned him, “That’s not what we agreed to.”
“Alright, alright, blacksmith!” Muc laughed patting him on the shoulder.
“So, when will you start?” Mullins asked him.
“My ears and eyes are open for your tormentor from this moment on,” Muc said.
“Good, thanks.” Mullins was happy to have enlisted Muc’s help. It wouldn’t be long before he got to the bottom of it, Mullins was sure of that. It wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for whoever the culprit was either but Mullins didn’t have to concern himself with that. He had a mind to dish out some pain himself for scaring Kate in the way this person had.
Larry came around the side of the shed drying himself off after a dunk in Muc’s improvised rainwater shower.
“Did you see me, Mullins,” he asked, “I’m getting better.” His enthusiasm was barely contained.
“I did,” Mullins smiled, “You’re getting better alright.”
“Put some clothes on, boy,” Muc barked at him. “The cold air will do you no good after the cold water.” Larry did as he was told.
“How’s he coming along?” Mullins asked Muc.
“He’s well; I’m only getting him fit for the moment, building some core strength as we go. He won’t be a fighter for a long time, I think, but he has the potential.”
“Well I’m not really interested in him being a fighter. I just want him to be able to stand up for himself and have a little belief when he’s done.”
“He’ll have that anyway. Sure, isn’t he learning from the master?” Muc grinned.
“I suppose he is,” Mullins smiled back, “I’m going to the cabin for a drink,” he said then.
“I might wander up that way later,” Muc said.
“If I’m still there I’ll see you later then.”
“You won’t be still there,” Muc grinned, “Not now that you have a reason to be home in the evenings.”
“What do you mean by that?” Mullins asked, his ire rising suddenly.
“Just that you have those poor women to be lookin’ after,” Muc said, his playful grin and dancing eyes enough to let Mullin’s see the trap he was walking into.
“I’m goin’,” he said turning away abruptly with a smile, “I’ll see you later!”
Chapter 61
Mary was sweeping outside the entrance to the blacksmith, when she saw Alderman James emerge from Back Lane by the prison. She’d been surprised that she had not seen him about since the killings started and Spencer had escaped. There were more soldiers around and the sheriff had been about the streets more than she had ever seen him, but still she’d noticed and thought odd that the Alderman hadn’t appeared.
Their eyes met and James nodded in greeting, lifting his hat to her. Before she knew what she was doing, Mary found she was crossing the road to him. She had to talk to him about Spencer; there would be no other way he would find out about his innocence.
“Alderman?” she said as she reached his side of the road. Just then she realized she had carried the sweeping brush over with her and she quickly hid it behind her back in embarrassment.
“Ms Sommers,” James greeted her with a smile. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to talk to you about Colonel Spencer,” she said in a low voice darting her eyes about to see that no one was listening to her. James stiffened at the name and peered at her with suspicion.
“What about him?” he asked.
“Is there somewhere I can come talk to you, somewhere quieter than here?”
“If you have information on the escaped Spencer, it would be better for me to hear it sooner rather than later,” James answered.
“If you say so,” Mary said, “Before he escaped from the hospital he asked me to come and visit him there.” James’ eyebrows raised at this.
“Why?”
“He told me that he no longer believed that he was responsible for the murders he confessed to.” She saw that this idea ran through the Alderman like a sharp sheet of ice.
“What nonsense is this?” he asked angrily.
“I didn’t know what to believe myself at first, Sir, but since then I have found his diary and it proves he did not commit at least two of the murders.”
“How did you happen to ‘find’ his diary?” James asked.
“He told me where it was in his old house and how to get in,” Mary said, this was true at least.
“Where is it now?”
“I lost it,” she said stumbling a little; she’d not expected the conversation to go this way and she didn't like it. “Anyway, the point is that if he’s innocent of those, it makes sense
that he is innocent of all the others too.”
“What proof is there in the diary; the one that is now lost?” James asked with a sceptical tone.
“He was away or otherwise engaged with people who could testify to it around the times of the murders.”
“Then why did he escape? Why not come to the authorities with this information?” To this she had no answer that wouldn’t give away the fact that she had been in contact with him since his escape.
“I don’t know that, Sir, maybe he thought no one would care that he was innocent.” James looked at her for a long moment and then said,
“Do you know where he is now?”
“No, Sir,” she answered quickly and then worried if it had perhaps been too quickly.
“Well, if you come across that information, please let me know at once. I can’t help a man who runs from the law.”
“Yes, Sir, Alderman.” Mary said.
“If it will settle your mind a little, Spencer is not a chief suspect for the recent murders. I know they started before he escaped. The rumour mill is all that holds him accountable for those,” James said.
“That is good to hear,” Mary said with relief. She’d heard all of the rumours and the gossip from people talking in the streets as she sold her potatoes. She couldn't believe that people hadn’t made (no in fact just ignored) the fact that Spencer had been in the hospital when the first murder, or two- she wasn’t sure herself now- had been committed. She didn’t dare point this out to people, however, as no doubt that would put someone's beady eyes on her and who knows what could be found out then.
“You seem sincere in your belief he is innocent,” James said. “Did you not suspect him of taking away someone you knew?”
“I did, at the time,” Mary admitted, “But I don’t believe that any more.”
“Be careful when it comes to belief,” James said in fatherly way, “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life based on what I believed at the time.” She nodded, not quite sure what to make of this. “Anyway,” he went on, “Like I say, if Spencer is innocent the best thing he could do would be turn himself in. Every minute he is loose he seems more guilty, and don't forget, it might not be one of my men who catches up with him first.”
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