He hesitated, but the look on his sister’s face told him she would not take any nonsense from him. “I know what’s going on and I hired someone to take care of it.”
“What?” Grace flew into a rage. “You brought in outsiders? How could you?”
Granville let go of Sarah’s hand and grabbed his sister by the shoulders. “Grace, listen to me. This is too big for me. Too big for any of us. We need them.” She shook under his grasp. “You have to trust me on this.”
“Do you trust them?” She challenged him.
“Up to a point…that’s all. I promise.”
RANDALL’S MOTHER AND SISTERS PRETENDED that their overnight stay was nothing more than a long social visit. They believed that through sheer force of will they could keep this sense of foreboding from entering their domestic fortress, even though it permeated every choice they made. What clothes to bring? Toiletries? Books? Games? Even food choices were based on distraction. No matter what happened, these women were convinced they could make those around them feel safe and happy.
Granville was grateful for their effort.
As Grace got the women comfortable in their rooms, Randall approached Granville as he headed towards his workshop.
“Granville, what’s happening? Why did you really ask us here?” A tall, angular man a few years younger than Granville, Randall wasn’t stupid. The only reason Granville allowed him, a single man, to stay overnight even with his mother and sisters present was because something serious was about to happen. The veiled attempt at propriety was a ruse at best.
Granville sighed, studying the man. “Randall, you’re a good man, and my sister has a fondness for you.”
Randall looked embarrassed at Granville’s directness. “Well, I hoped…I mean…I have a fondness for her as well,” he stammered at first, then lowered his voice. “I know there’s something out there killing us. Let me help you hunt it. Let me prove myself to you. And to Grace.”
“You have.” Granville put a friendly hand on Randall’s shoulder to reassure him then turned away.
“Granville,” Randall called after him. “I’ll protect her to my dying breath.”
“I know.” Granville’s mood turned grim. “That’s why you’re here.”
ANDREW LEFT FOR AN HOUR to walk Caitlin home from school. Samuel did not mind as it was one of the few times Andrew saw her since they worked at night. From what little Samuel knew about Erin, Andrew’s wife, she had worked as a house cleaner for several Middle District Houses. He’d been to the South Side and seen how the rampant poverty stole pieces of one’s soul bit by bit. It frustrated him, knowing he paid Andrew a good enough wage to find a place to live in the Middle District, but the older man refused to leave. Andrew never discussed it, but Samuel suspected Erin had a hand in keeping them there.
As he waited for Andrew to return, Samuel gathered up a few small axes and his pistol-sized multi-barrel gun loaded with enough ammonia-laced salt ammunition to at least get the demon’s attention. He might not be able to handle the larger guns yet due to the recoil, but these would be easier to conceal in a canvas bag. Samuel knew he could not just go wandering through the Middle District carrying guns without drawing unwanted attention toward himself and Andrew. He threw in rubber sea boots, sturdy gloves, rope, and a couple of scarves to tie around their faces. No sense becoming ill breathing in the stench of the sewer.
Andrew returned and gathered up his camera and the fancy flash bulbs he had bought from Granville. Samuel watched him for a few minutes, sensing the man was distracted.
“Everything all right, Andrew?” he asked.
The older man gave Samuel a haunted look for a moment, as if he to impart a great secret, then thought better of it. “It be nothing, laddie. Let’s be about our business.”
Samuel sighed, then nodded. He knew the Irishman’s mood must have been affected by his wife. No one else put a damper on his spirit like that woman did. She must have been home when he left for work. Samuel hoped whatever had happened would not affect his work tonight.
They gathered up whatever else they thought they needed and headed out.
Samuel drove his steam-powered buggy from the wharf through the heart of the Middle District then parked two blocks away from Harrison Street. This left them equidistant from the buggy to each of the main sewer entrances on the map. He also didn’t want to be sitting so close to Harrison Street as to bring unwanted attention to themselves. They had agreed to meet Granville at an underground sewer junction so he could hand over the “pokers.” Samuel was dubious how useful they could be, but he’d seen the man’s workshop and had been more than impressed. He hoped his ability to trust his own judgment wasn’t compromised by his desire to find the perfect weapon to kill his wife’s murderer once he found the creature again.
The sun had just begun to set when he parked the buggy. People were going about their business as they did every evening. Men hurried home after work. The smell of roasted chicken wafted from windows on a soft spring breeze. Children’s laughter punctuated the air as their mothers’ soft voices told them to wash up. It would all have been perfect except there was a monster living beside them, hiding deep below the streets waiting for darkness to fall. Or was it hiding in plain sight? Samuel wondered how much these people chose to ignore because it was easier to do. Or maybe it was because they did not want to acknowledge that there were demons living among them, both human and supernatural.
Once he could lie in Elizabeth’s arms and forget the pain and suffering he had caused. Now, the only way he could crush those feelings was to do the jobs no one else wanted to. That was why he was here tonight.
Samuel pulled the canvas bag out of the buggy while Andrew picked up his camera and belts. “Ready, old man?” Samuel asked him.
Andrew nodded.
The sewer junction Granville had chosen for the meeting was under Harrison Street, but each of them would walk through at least a half-mile of sludge and muck before they met up. There was no way Granville could bring anything resembling a weapon across Harrison Street without someone calling the police. One would think anybody who saw Samuel and Andrew pry up a manhole cover would be curious, but no one would ever question an Irishman doing dirty work while his Middle District supervisor watched over him.
Samuel assumed being treated this way gnawed at Andrew, but the older man never uttered one word of complaint. He wondered why. Though Samuel was an excellent detective, he made a point never to probe into Andrew’s life. Thinking about it now, he thought that might have been a mistake.
After raising the manhole cover, Andrew climbed down with his camera on his back. When he reached the bottom, Samuel dropped the bags to him and followed. As his head dipped below the street, Samuel reached over and dragged the manhole cover over the entrance enough to leave a slight gap making it easier for them to get out if need be.
By the time Samuel reached him, Andrew had already pulled out the electric torch Granville had given them. Samuel did not believe they would work, but when Andrew tightened the bottom of it as Granville had instructed, the thing lit up a good portion of the sewer tunnel. The electric torch was a fiber tube a foot long with brass end caps and a bull’s-eye glass lens on one end. Samuel soon decided it was a handy piece of equipment to have around. They tied the scarves around their noses and mouths, strapped the rest of their bags on their backs, and headed down the sewer tunnel to meet Granville.
They scoured the tunnel walls for any sign of the demon, just in case they were wrong about its whereabouts. The only thing they found, though, were rats and a disgusting amount of sludge that had built up over the years when there had not been enough water to flush the system out.
The stench increased as they approached Harrison Street. Andrew gagged, and even Samuel’s eyes had begun to water. He used the electric torch to light up the ceiling and saw an increasing number of cracks. Whoever built the sewer in this part of town had done a shoddier job than deeper into the Middle District. Samuel was
not surprised. Political power and money got things done, and Liberty Row may have money, but its residents had no political power to use it.
Samuel and Andrew trudged on.
A light beam reflected off a wall ahead of them. It was Granville with a scarf tied around his nose and mouth as well.
As Samuel and Andrew walked up, they saw he carried two large wooden poles with six narrow spikes attached at their tips. Cables the thickness of a woman’s pinky finger were connected to the spikes and wrapped around the staves until they met a small box attached three-quarters of the way down the pole. Strips of braided leather were wrapped at the bottom, which Samuel assumed was the grip.
Granville held out the poles to them. “Here. Hold them below the box. There’s a switch inside to turn it on. I put the box over it so you wouldn’t accidentally electrocute yourself.”
Samuel and Andrew took their respective weapons, inspecting each of them with great interest.
Granville gestured to the wires. “They’re electrified. You stab the demon with the wires sticking out from the top. Just be sure you turn them on first.”
“I think we understand that part,” Samuel remarked, doubting his confidence in Granville. “But this thing doesn’t look like it’ll stop much of anything.”
Granville pointed to a rat scurrying by. “Use it on that.”
Samuel opened the box with his thumb, then flipped the switch and felt a slight vibration run up through his hands. He eyed the rat, stalked it for a minute then stabbed it. The rat sparked, squealed, died, then burst into flames.
Samuel turned off the apparatus, then used his foot to shove the dead rat off the spikes. He nodded in appreciation. “This will get the demon’s attention.”
“Aye, laddie. That it will.” Andrew ran his finger across the wires. “What will this do to a man?”
“I don’t know, but let’s not find out. In the meantime, I’ll head back to Liberty Row and wait for you at the corner of Beach and Harrison Street.”
“Will you be able to get a clear shot if it climbs the building or uses the roof-tops?” Samuel asked.
Granville nodded. “There are fire escapes on each side if I need to get there.”
“Guess the powers-that-be saw fit to give Liberty Row such things,” Andrew mused. “There be none of those in the South Side.”
“We put them in ourselves, Andrew,” Granville replied with a hint of sadness. “Maybe after this is over….”
“Don’t be bothering yourself with the likes of me,” Andrew interrupted. “Let’s get this thing before it kills any more young ‘uns.”
Samuel nodded. “We’ll meet you up top.”
Without another word, Granville headed back toward Liberty Row.
IT WAS A GOOD HALF an hour by the time Granville got back to the sewer entrance on the Liberty Row side of Harrison Street. When he slid the manhole cover off, the sun had set. Streetlights were lit, but the sidewalks were barren of people. Fear had gripped Liberty Row, and no one dared to be outside except for the few locals who patrolled. The patrols were useless, but they gave people a sense of control although in reality they had none. Granville glanced around to make sure no one saw him before he crawled out, then took off the scarf and breathed in fresh air. He looked at his clothes and saw specks of sewage around his cuffs and up the side of his pants. He would have to burn them when the night was over.
After sliding the manhole cover back into place, he glanced around again, hoping no one had seen him. Granville would have liked to drape his copper netting over every street in Liberty Row, but he did not have enough for that, so he had placed all he had over an alley off Albany Street two blocks south of Harrison in the hope Samuel and Andrew were successful in driving the demon out of the sewer and into Liberty Row. He had no doubts that when the demon surfaced, he could lure it over to the alley and kill it. Even if the demon got out of the netting, he had the bow and arrows in reserve.
He stood up and gathered his equipment. Walking the three blocks over to Albany Street, each step became quicker as he imagined all sorts of things going wrong, but when he arrived, everything was as it should be. The netting was still stored under a stoop and looked undisturbed. He dragged it out, opened it, and began the process of deploying it across the end of the alley. He had chosen this place because it was the only dead end in Liberty Row. Granville tugged on a cable that dangled across the side of a building and watched as another piece of netting slid into place between the two roof lines at the end of the alleyway. He attached the cable to one of his small battery-driven generators, then double checked to make sure it had a full charge.
Satisfied that everything was in order, Granville took out the bow and a quiver of arrows, and hid behind a stoop. Now came the hard part. Waiting.
SAMUEL AND ANDREW BEGAN THEIR sweep of the sewer system in a methodical and practiced manner. They started from the eastern-most section where there were alcoves large enough for a demon to build a lair, then worked their way west, making a few side trips to areas where it might have tucked itself away during the daylight. After a few hours, they stumbled upon bits of human entrails. It got gorier each step they took. A piece of a human kidney, a liver, even a section of a human heart led the way to their prey. They knew the demon would not be far now.
Samuel knelt and examined the bloody mess without touching it and frowned.
“Why wouldn’t the demon eat this? Why leave it out for anyone to find?” Samuel muttered.
“Maybe the beastie figured no one would look here for it?” Andrew ventured a guess. “Or maybe it wanted a treat for later.”
“An over-confident demon?” Samuel wondered out loud. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” He gestured toward the sewer tunnel. “We’re in the perfect position to drive it toward Liberty Row.”
Samuel and Andrew both stopped talking when they heard the sound of teeth tearing into flesh around a corner up ahead. Each flipped on his poker and turned off their electric torches. With their backs flat up against the wall, they inched their way up to the corner of the tunnel.
Samuel mouthed, “One… two… three.”
On “three,” Andrew closed his eyes and concentrated. His brow furrowed as he used his ability as a Medium to make the demon visible to Samuel. If there were time, he would get a picture of it, but for now he had other things to attend to.
His body shook and sweat dripped down his face as the effort took so much of a toll on Andrew that he almost lost his grip on the poker.
Then he felt as if a light exploded in his brain, and he could see through his eyelids even though they were closed. In his mind’s eye, he saw what the demon looked like, but not where it was. Its oily, black skin made him shudder. He forced open his eyes to see Samuel watching him with concern and awe.
Andrew motioned that they should proceed.
With even more stealth than before, they readied themselves to leap out at the demon while it enjoyed its gruesome meal.
Samuel made the slightest gesture with his head, and both men jumped out with the poker, ready to drive the demon out of its lair. He pointed the electric torch at a mound of filth and entrails, but all they saw were the beady eyes of a swarm of rats.
The demon was not there.
“Oh, hell,” Samuel muttered as he swung around to see the demon behind them. Blood-tinged drool dripped over its jaw while a grating sound emanated from the back of its throat. The thing was laughing at them.
It swung one of its spindly arms forward with its three claws aimed at the detective’s head. Samuel swiveled around and leaned backward. The demon missed his head, but slammed into his injured arm. In agony, Samuel dropped the poker and cried out in pain. Andrew stabbed the creature, causing it to growl and jump back. The demon’s skin sizzled and sparked where the spikes had impaled it while its body jerked. Samuel scrambled for his poker then jabbed the demon again and again. Its spasms became less intense each time they hit it. The demon backed away far enough that they had tro
uble reaching it.
For a moment the creature stared at them then turned and fled— in the wrong direction.
Samuel grabbed one of his axes from the bag and threw it at the retreating demon, but it was too far away and missed.
“Andrew! Come on!” Samuel yelled at him.
They tracked it through several tunnels, missing it once when it appeared to double back. The rain had been moderate this season, so there was just enough sludge for them to see fresh footprints. Samuel and Andrew still hoped to drive it toward Granville. It soon became apparent the demon was paralleling Harrison Street, staying two blocks away from Liberty Row.
Both men were aching from exertion and out of breath when they stopped to figure out what to do.
“I can go up top, run in front of it, then drop down back into the sewers.” Samuel’s chest heaved as he leaned against the tunnel wall. “That way we can flank it and drive it back towards Liberty Row.”
Andrew shook his head. “You can’t be running around Middle District covered in that filth. Someone be calling the police.”
“Nor can you,” Samuel spat out in frustration. “We’re going to have to head over to the Liberty Row side and tell Woods we’ll have another go at this tomorrow night. God, I hate that.” Samuel slammed his palm against the tunnel wall.
“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to start over, laddie,” Andrew assured him. “We’ll find the beastie.”
“Damn right we will. I think we’ve run it ragged enough it should stay—” Samuel opened his mouth to continue talking, but a scraping sound distracted him.
They looked at each in horror, realizing the sound was a manhole cover being opened not too far from them.
The demon was going hunting.
STIFF FROM HUNCHING BEHIND THE stoop, Granville stood up and stretched out his arms and legs He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. Samuel and Andrew were late -- very late.
Boston Metaphysical Society Page 23
