Hunting Down the Darkness

by European P. Douglas

  “What’s wrong?” Edwards asked when they were alone in the room.

  “Nothing,” Olocher said.

  “Don’t tell me lies,” Edwards said, “Anyone could tell by that face on you that something is bothering you. Is it about Spencer?”

  “No, but I’m not happy about that,” Olocher said. It had been Edwards’ idea to kill him in the market in broad daylight. He felt it would take back the initiative from the other killer and really make waves in the fearful public. He hadn’t been wrong about the latter, anyway. “It was too dangerous, and too risky,” Olocher went on.

  “You did a fine job,” Edwards smiled, “It couldn’t have gone better.”

  “Yes, but it could have went much worse. Where would your plan be if I’d been caught?”

  “I didn’t think for a moment that you would be,” Edwards said.

  “Even so,” Olocher said after a long pause, “I don’t like how things are at the moment.”

  “How so?”

  “Muc.” Edwards had been expecting Olocher to bring this up and it was something that had been on his own mind for some time now.

  “What about him?” Edwards asked. Here Olocher paused again and Edwards saw doubt in him.

  “I don’t think we can go ahead with the plan yet, I’m not ready,” he said and then looked down at his plate in shame.

  “There’s nothing wrong in respecting Muc,” Edwards said in a pleasant almost fatherly tone, “he is, after all, one of the greatest warriors this city has ever produced.” Olocher looked up at this, probing Edwards’ face for humour. “But, that doesn't mean you should be afraid of him.”

  “I can’t go on knowing he’s able to somehow know what I’m going to do next. I was surprised that he wasn’t at the market when I killed Spencer!”

  “Your confidence has been knocked, that’s all,” Edwards said, “If Muc were gone you would have nothing to worry about, correct?” Olocher thought about this for a moment and then nodded. “So there you go,” Edwards went on, “We just need to get rid of him now before we go on.”

  “You make it sound like it would be so easy!” Olocher said, “Like I could walk up to his house and stab him at the doorway.”

  “It might be easier than you think,” Edwards said, “You give him too much respect, I think.”

  “How so?”

  “Well, how many times have you seen him blind drunk and falling around the streets?”

  “Plenty,” Olocher admitted.

  “Well, then, there you go, surely he’s no match for you in that state?” Olocher made no answer to this but Edwards could see he was still unsatisfied. “Can you think of a better way?” he asked the younger man.

  “Perhaps if we did this one together?” Olocher suggested. This came a complete surprise to Edwards and he suddenly felt as though the boy were testing him in this, and had been testing him all along this evening.

  “My part comes later,” he answered dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I have complete faith in your ability to overcome a savage like Lord Muc.”

  “I thank you for your faith,” Olocher said glumly.

  “Perhaps we can work on some idea together, I’m sure we can come up with something.”

  “Could you get the army or maybe the Alderman to arrest him?” Olocher suggested. Edwards thought about this for a moment and then shook his head.

  “Probably not without drawing undue attention to myself,” he said.

  “We could try to find one of his enemies, I’m sure he has plenty and they might do it?” another suggestion from Olocher.

  “To be honest, Olocher, and I think you know this, I don’t think there is anyone else out there who could take him down other than yourself.”

  “I think I could do it,” Olocher finally admitted, “But I am very worried about what it might take to get him down and keep him down. I don’t want to cripple myself in the process.” Edwards thought on this a moment and then smiled,

  “Perhaps it’s time we called on the old art of poisoning,” he said. Olocher’s eyes lit up at this.

  “Yes, yes, that would do the trick, wouldn’t it?”

  “And quickly if done right. No one would ever know who did it, or why?”

  “That would be a perfect solution,” Olocher smiled.

  “It would also further your education, my good man. I’ll go tomorrow and talk to one of my Chinese friends; they are very good at this kind of thing and also very discreet.”

  Olocher was smiling and looked to be in thought as to how this might happen. This was good, but Edwards had not liked the weakness that his protégé had shown this evening. It was not in fitting with the work that had to be done.

  This moment of disappointment in Olocher turned quickly back on himself and he recalled kneeling in the church and praying like a frightened old woman. How quickly things can become unravelled he thought. Perhaps it would be better to get moving on the main plan, in case anything should start to go wrong in the meantime.

  “I’ll talk to my people tomorrow,” he said, “With any luck we can get this little problem sorted by the end of the week.”

  Chapter 90

  When Alderman James received a message at his doorway from a scruffy lad who said Lord Muc had sent him, he set off for the Liberties at once. The message was:

  Come find me this evening, I found your killer.

  Having seen Lord Muc in action last week banging that miscreant’s head on Mullins’ door he knew better than to wait around. From what he’d been able to gather that evening, Lord Muc had been investigating Mary Sommers’ tormentor. He had no idea why but he’d thought at the time, if Muc had been able to track down this fella, he may have come across the killer at some point. He meant to ask Muc about this but one thing after another came up, culminating in his attempted murder and his discovery of Lisa as the Wild Boar Hall killer.

  The one good thing about Lord Muc’s notoriety was that everyone knew who he was and always remembered if they had seen him. Sometimes people would be wary of saying anything about him but even that was an indication he’d been by that way recently. It was also only a matter of calling in on the cabins, taverns and alehouses too; he was hardly likely to be found anywhere else save his home in James’ experience.

  Just as James was about to go into the Whiskey Cabin on Cook Street that he knew Muc liked, Mullins came out.

  “Alderman?” he said guiltily.

  “Mr Mullins,” James greeted him, “Is Muc in there?”

  “No, I’m looking for him myself,” Mullins said, “He sent a boy to my door saying I should find him as he had word on the killer who attacked Kate.”

  “I got a similar message,” James said, and that sick feeling of not being the one to bring the killer to justice came over him. A feeling he knew all too well by now. He had left the name of Spencer as the man responsible for the Shadow of the Dolocher murders once Spencer was murdered himself; he didn’t see any point in opening up his doubts to the public. The current killer was the same one responsible for those Spencer was blamed for. He had confessed after all and there was nothing that would dissuade the locals that he had not been the true killer.

  “You think he knows who the killer is, really?” Mullins asked. James nodded slowly, though he still had his doubts.

  “Who knows, though,” he tried a smile. “Any more ideas where he might be?” James asked.

  “A pub,” Mullins answered echoing James’ own thoughts. They went on together.

  It was the best part of an hour before they found him and this was despite the fact that Mullins took up the burden of asking the people they passed if they’d seen Muc.

  It was in the ‘Brazen Head’ that they found him. The place was full and music played and drunken happy faces shone out from all corners of the pub.

  “Ah lads, you made it!” Muc said gripping both men around the neck in an improvised hug but while he was in close, he said so only the two could hear him, “Watch me plan
t a killer, boys!” James did his best not to look around the room lest he give away what Muc was about to do.

  Muc headed for the bar beckoning them to follow and he shouted to the barman,

  “Three more jugs here!” Most people made way for Muc as he made his way to the bar and the fact that Mullins was with him probably made a few more move out of the way. One man however only looked Muc up and down with disregard. James saw a glint of recognition in Mullins eye and asked,

  “Him? You know him?”

  “He looks a little familiar but I can't place him,” Mullins said shaking his head. The bar man passed the three jugs over to Muc who took them by the handles all in one hand.

  “Have you three clean glasses?” he asked and barman bent to get them. At that moment while Muc looked behind him to Mullins and James with a wink, he brought the three heavy filled jugs down hard on the head of the man who’d looked queerly at him.

  James lunged forward out of instinct and grabbed at the man and Mullins flanked him. At that moment, Muc's huge boot came up and crashed hard into the man's face as he leaned over and then he toppled to the floor.

  “There’s your killer, Alderman,” Muc said triumphantly.

  The room had gone silent at the crash of the jugs on the man's head and everyone heard this. Thinking to become part of the legendary capture of a killer the men around swarmed to get hold of the fallen man as he struggled to his feet.

  James was surprised to see when he stood up that he was not a tall man but in fact much shorter than Muc or Mullins and even a little shorter than James himself was. He had a huge and powerful looking torso however and his shoulders and arms were very heavily muscled.

  “The sailor!” Mullins suddenly said and he grinned at the man.

  “Who is he?” James asked again.

  “A French sailor who gave Mullins here a good beating a few months ago,” Muc laughed. The man said something but it was in French and no one knew what he meant.

  “I’ve yet to hear him speak English,” Muc said shrugging.

  Some men from the army came in then having been alerted by someone who’d fled the pub of what was going on. James nodded to the men and told them to take the French man into custody until further notice.

  “Make sure you have about six men on him at all times,” Muc advised them as he took up someone else's drink from the bar and supped on it, “He’s a rough one.” James nodded in agreement with this and the men pulled the sailor away. As they did, he never took his glaring eyes off Muc’s face. No doubt, he was remembering it well for some point in the future.

  A few minutes later the bar was back to normal and the three men did have a drunk.

  “How do you know he is the killer?”

  “I’ve been following him,” Muc said.

  “Why were you following him?” Mullins asked.

  “Well, I figured out a while ago who the killer was so I started to follow him,” Muc started,

  “Wait a minute,” James said holding up his hands, “How did you figure out he was the killer?”

  “I just pieced it together from what I’d seen and heard,” Muc said simply smiling at Mullins as he spoke.

  “What did you see and hear?” Mullins asked.

  “First I saw him give you a good beating a few months ago,” Muc said laughing, “Then when Kate was attacked I chased him and I saw him do some very agile things before he got away. Later on Kate mentioned how Madame Mel said her brother was here and gone, and that he was a sailor and that he used to be an acrobat in a circus back in France,”

  “So you figured he was the man?” James said.

  “When I saw him coming out of the brothel run by Madame Mel I guessed who he was and knew then that Mel had been lying about his leaving. I could follow him now that I knew he’d be coming from whatever boat he was living on.”

  “This is all very well and good, Muc, but none of this proves he is a killer,” James said.

  “No, but it led me to him and the murder I saw him commit last night in Pimlico was the icing on the cake.” Both Mullins’ and James’ faces drained white.

  “There was a murder last night?” James asked incredulous.

  “There was, but I took the body up and brought it home right afterwards so it wouldn't be found before I was done.”

  James was aghast at this but then the thought struck him that one less body in the public knowledge was not so much a bad thing, despite the bad taste of what Muc had done.

  “I’ll have to come and see this body,” James said and Muc nodded,

  “Naturally.”

  Chapter 91

  For days afterwards, the stories would spread all over the city of how Lord Muc had brought down the killer in the Brazen Head. It was all anyone could talk about and Muc moved about thoroughly enjoying his hero status and all the free drinks this entailed.

  Edwards was glad to find that Muc had not been Olocher’s shadow as he had thought. He knew Olocher would get a new sense of purpose now and be more focused on the job at hand.

  Edwards called on James; there was a lot to catch up on as the pair had not spoken since James returned from Waterford. He knew James would be upset by the fact of Muc solving the case before he did, but he wondered if solving the Waterford case had been a boost for him at least. Edwards had to admit that although he thought Lisa was a wily and cunning beast, he’d never had thought she was the killer in that case. He didn’t know how James had figured it out and meant to ask him.

  As he walked up the steps to James' house, he met Daniel Deek who was just coming out.

  “Ah, Mr Edwards,” he said with a smile and offering his hand. Edwards felt a little nauseous at the sight of the man and he thought once more about the night in the church.

  “Mr Deek,” Edwards nodded taking his hand.

  “You’ve come to see Mr James I see, perhaps you will better raise his spirits than I did,” Deek said.

  “He’s not feeling well?”

  “He is not sick, but he is not well in himself, I think,” Deek said looking for words in English to portray how he felt.

  “Well, I’ll see what I can do,” Edwards said and he went to pass Deek and go into the house.

  “So, the end of one chapter and the opening of another, no?” Deek said taking in a breath and looking out at the street.

  “I don’t follow,” Edwards said looking back at him.

  “I have no part to play in this tale, I think,” Deek said, “But I believe I will stay in Dublin for a time longer to see what will transpire.”

  “I think rebellion is the most likely thing,” Edwards said forcing a smile. Deek laughed and nodded,

  “You may be right on that, but I feel something else will happen too, something more relatable to my studies.”

  “Well, I wish you well in that,” Edwards said, “Good Day.” he couldn’t wait to get away from the German.

  “Good Day,” Deek said raising his hat, “For now.”

  When Edwards got inside James barely got up to say hello and Edwards knew what Deek had meant.

  “Why so glum?” Edwards asked smiling widely, “The killer is gone, you solved the case for Stapleton, what else could you ask for?” James nodded,

  “On the surface, everything is well, I suppose,” he said.

  “And below the surface?” Edwards asked.

  “Below the surface is deceit, lies, evil and baseness.”

  “Harsh words, Alderman, have you had some brandy?”

  “No, drink is not what I would need right now.”

  “What is it you do need right now?”

  “I need the world to right itself, for so far I have not been able to do it.” This was odd language coming from James and Edwards wondered was the man starting to crack.

  “Right for who?” Edwards couldn’t resist. James smiled and looked at him,

  “How is the world for you right now, Mr Edwards?”

  “As boring as ever,” he quipped but there was something i
n the way James looked at him that unnerved him.

  “I suppose some new killer would liven things up for you?” James said sourly.

  “Well this current one didn’t do much for me, or the one in Waterford,” Edwards said, “You cut me out of both. They were no use to me at all.”

  “I got a letter from Spencer before he died,” James said not addressing what Edwards had said at all.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, and I have come to believe that he was innocent all along,” James said.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and I don’t think this Gaspard DeLacroix had any part to play in the killings of last year.”

  “No? So you think there is a killer who got away free?”

  “Spencer thought someone in the Hellfire Club was responsible for the killings he was arrested for.”

  “Confessed to,” Edwards reminded him with a raised finger.

  “Still,” James nodded, “Do you think there could be any merit to this idea?” Edwards looked out the window as if thinking on this and then answered,

  “No, none of the rest of them have the slightest bit of the imagination required for what happened last year.”

  “You think imagination is the key?” James asked.

  “No, but it has its part to play, I’m sure.”

  There was silence then for a time and James asked,

  “Did you receive any post while you were in Waterford?”

  “No, in fact I gave my staff hell about it when I came back, but they insisted they forwarded everything on to me down there but I never got it.” James nodded,

  “I was the same; that’s why I was so long hearing about what was happening up here.”

  “I wonder did Deek have anything to do with it,” Edwards said.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I don’t know, but there is something about him I don’t like and I know that he went to the post office a few times, perhaps he was collecting the mail while he was there and not delivering it to us.”