by Tony Roberts
Case knew he had to act now. He slipped on the floor and cursed, clutching his ankle. “Ouch!”
“Oh, come on, Longinus!” Stavely almost laughed, “I expected something more from you than a feigned fall and the sprained ankle ruse. Now get up or I’ll shoot.”
Case, shrugged, but his fingers closed round the small knife that had been snugly fitted into his trouser leg lining the previous day. He straightened and with a blurred movement threw the knife underhand, the blade catching the candlelight, and Stavely coughed, staring in disbelief at the hilt of the knife protruding from his chest.
Schofield gaped in horror and wasted precious seconds in reacting. Case was reaching into his jacket sleeve and pulling out the second knife. Schofield knew he probably had seconds to live and swung the gun round, but the knife was leaving Case’s hand even as the barrel lined up on the eternal mercenary’s chest. Schofield felt a sharp searing pain in his throat and everything went black.
As Schofield toppled over lifelessly, Lorrimer shrieked in terror and ran for the staircase. Case grabbed the dropped colt, cocked the hammer back and fired at a crouch. Lorrimer was almost picked up and flung forward under the impact of the bullet. The crypt echoed to the roar of the report, and Case inhaled the smell of cordite as a blue haze issued from the barrel.
The silence in the underground chamber was almost deafening. Case stood up slowly and looked at Stavely. His eyes were staring up at the ceiling as he lay spread-eagled across the floor. Schofield was making a mess with his lifeblood seeping over the flagstones while Lorrimer was a crumpled shapeless form at the foot of the stairs. Drawing in a deep breath Case holstered the colt and retrieved the two knives, cleaning them.
Stavely’s pockets revealed the key to the chamber beyond the iron door and he deposited the three corpses inside, relocking the chamber. He put the key into a pocket and left the crypt, replacing the stone flag over the entrance, then the carpet. The church was empty and silent, and Case wished it would remain so for a long time. He ran out the back and clambered over the wall. He had to find Michael O’Driscoll and fast. Whatever happened he had to get back to the farm before the Brotherhood did anything, if he was still in time.
Then he stopped and thought for a second. Stupid bastard! Lorrimer had a horse. He had to have ridden into town. Case jumped back into the yard and looked around. One side, behind him, was merely a wall and gate. The one opposite was where the church was. To the right was another high wall and beyond that probably the adjoining property’s yard. But to the left were a series of doors set in a long, low building. Case grinned weakly. Stables.
He pushed open the first door and found himself in a long chamber with stalls opposite. Three were occupied by horses and one was saddled, ready to be ridden. Case led the animal out into the yard. He looked at the gate. It was bolted from the inside but he really didn’t want to rebolt it, climb over and hope the horse would stay obediently in the street for him. Damn it all to hell! He threw back the bolt, hauled the gate open, launched himself into the saddle and, once more on horseback where he always seemed to end up sooner or later, raced away down the street.
The road to the farm went out west then northwest. He climbed up, leaving the town behind him, and made for the farmland that dotted the foothills of the mountains. He passed one or two tobacco plantations and then was into the farmland. The horse made things much better, and Case wondered if it would be possible to keep it; Lorrimer wouldn’t want it now, that was for sure. Not with a damned great hole in his back. Still, he’d be missed and the Burkes would know the horse.
The farm came into sight through the trees, and it was intact. He breathed out with relief. The horse was blowing hard and Case slowed to a trot, turning into the drive. Nobody was there. Then he cursed his stupidity. Of course they wouldn’t come in daylight! Too many people would see them. It would be that night they’d do the deed. And, if that was the case, somebody in the hierarchy would give the orders. With Schofield and Stavely out of the way, they’d have nobody to do that. So would they come or not?
He sat in the saddle and pondered on the problem. Maybe. He’d have to ride back into town and check on the comings and goings at the church. Also, he needed to get rid of this horse, maybe swap it for another. Case decided that would be the best course of action, so he turned the animal round and returned to Lynchburg, this time more sedately.
He did a deal on the horse at the town stables and got a brown gelding and swapped the saddle for a slightly poorer one at the tanners. He kept the bridle and bit set, however. Now he felt better, and walked the horse to a point close to the church but far enough away not to be recognized. He remained there for two hours and saw a few people coming and going but nothing to excite him. A couple of men went in and came out after ten minutes, talking loudly, but they were too far away for them to be made out over the noise of the street. They probably had come to see Schofield and of course couldn’t find him. Case mounted up and made his way to the center of town. Michael was buying groceries and Case waved at him.
“Golly, where d’ye get the horse?” Michael exclaimed.
“Some guy owned me money, and I was lucky with this thing. Wasn’t too expensive.”
“Ye’ll need plenty of hay to feed it, for sure,” Michael grinned.
“Yeah, but it’ll be worth it. I’ll be able to come and go into town much faster now; and go round the farm without much trouble.”
“Aye that ye will. Oh, look who’s coming.”
Case twisted round and saw to his dismay the three Schwarz brothers. They had seen him and were striding across the street to confront him.
“Best get onto your wagon and out of here, Michael,” Case muttered. He turned the horse round and waited for the three to arrive. They had decidedly unfriendly expressions on their faces.
“Afternoon, gentlemen,” Case said mockingly. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“Cut out the false pleasantries,” the elder brother, August, snapped. He glared at the gelding. “Don’t tell me you could afford this! Where did you steal it?”
“None of your business, Herr Bauer!” Case used the term for farmer, which could also mean, in a derogatory sense, peasant.
August’s face darkened. “Don’t insult me, you stupid Irishman. Why don’t you return to your pig-farm and wallow in the mud with your kind?”
Case laughed and walked the horse out into the middle of the street, brushing past the three angry men. “If that’s the best you can do then don’t bother. You’re little men with little ambitions. Keep off my land or I’ll treat you as trespassers, and trespassers will be shot. Understand?”
The three glared at him and said nothing. Case walked off and left them fuming in the street. He didn’t care much for their attitudes, but he felt much happier now he’d sorted out the immediate problem. But he knew that where one was dealt with, another would spring up in its place. And he still didn’t know if the Brotherhood would come that night or not. He would have to be alert that night, he knew.
* * *
They came at two o’clock. Case had stayed up watching the house from the barn where the horse had been stabled. Mary had protested at the new purchase but Case had reasoned with her, saying the animal would make traveling round the farm much easier and trips into town would be more frequent as a result. Mary had grudgingly allowed the horse, which Case had named Napoleon, to stay in the barn. He’d then assured Mary that the legal matter was settled, it being a hoax and there was no lawyer in Virginia called C. J. M. Stavely. It had settled the fears of the woman to hear that.
Case slowly puffed on a pipe, waiting. He’d found tobacco that much easier to get here and cheaper than he normally found. He supposed Virginia was the prime place to grow tobacco which made it much more available. He suddenly cocked an ear and tapped out the pipe and stamped out the glowing embers on the ground. He took his colt and softly made his way to the extreme end of the fence that ran round the animal compound, separating it from th
e farmhouse yard.
From here he could see the drive. Four dark shadows came furtively along it, visible in the faint light from the stars, glowing torches in hands. That they intended burning everything down was not in doubt. Case slid forward onto the grass and wriggled up to the base of a tree and watched as the group spread out, two going for the front door, one vanished round the far side and the other came round the near side of the building towards the rear entrance.
Case got up and holstered the pistol, pulling out his knife instead. The man round the back was joined by the other who’d made the circuit. Obviously they were going to bar the doors and then set fire to the ground floors and watch their handiwork from afar.
He had little time to act. He scuttled along the boundary of the fence and into the yard, knife held in front of his body. The two men were busy manhandling a water butt round to the doorway, thus blocking it. Case didn’t hesitate but ran right up to the back of the first and slammed the blade deep into him. The man jerked upright and cried out in pain, shock and terror. He fell forward across the barrel, surprising the second man.
“Longinus!” he managed to gasp before jumping back and, throwing down his torch, running back the way he’d come. The knife was stuck in the back of the first man. The blade was lodged in between two ribs. Cursing, Case left the body there, jerked out his colt and ran after the man round the house.
“He’s alive! He’s here!” the man yelled, running round the front of the house. The other two were completing blocking the front door with planks they’d ripped from a fence, and they turned to see what the noise was all about. Case followed a short way behind and the two by the front door spotted him.
“Longinus?” one exclaimed in amazement.
“Yes! He’s killed Russ!”
“Holy fuck!” one of the others said and took three steps to the side and pulled out a pistol.
Case stopped running and went down on one knee, aiming carefully. The thing with pistols was that they were fine very close up but over distances of ten yards or more it was a case of luck or taking your time. He fired at the pistol wielder, the shot shattering the night.
He missed. The gunman also missed, his shot passing to Case’s left and too high.
“Christ!” one of the others shouted, “that’ll bring the whole damned lot down! Let’s get out of here!”
Case reasoned now wasn’t the time to be fancy. He blasted away, the four shots following in quick succession. The pistol man folded over with a scream, clutching his stomach and one of the others span round a few times before collapsing, arms out-flung, onto the driveway. The third man ran off, legs pumping wildly. Case slammed the pistol into his holster and ran after him, angling along the grass towards the road, trying to cut off the flight of the last surviving member of the arson party. Behind him lights were coming on and voices demanding to know what was going on.
The Brotherhood man reached the road and ran to the left, but Case was nearly there too, and leapt the fence onto the road, just behind him. The man turned in fright and saw his pursuer right behind him. He screamed in terror and was brought crashing to the ground by a flying leap from Case. The force of the jump plus the weight pressing on the man’s back brought him down very hard and he struck his head on a stone, which made a sickening sound.
Case got off him, breathing hard and rolled the inert man over. The head wound was bad and his eyes stared up into the sky unseeing. Case put a finger to his neck, trying to find the carotid artery. There was no pulse. “Shit,” he muttered.
Dragging the body back to the driveway, he saw a group of people standing by the front door, standing round the two men lying there. He dropped the corpse at the entrance to the drive and trudged back towards the family, huddled together in shock.
“Mr. Lonnergan!” Mary said, her voice strained, “what has been going on! Why are these men here shot?”
“These men tried to burn down the house,” Case said grimly. One was dead, the pistol man, the gun lying just a few feet from his lifeless hand. The other was still alive, groaning faintly, a huge red hole in his upper chest. He wouldn’t last long if Case was any judge of the matter.
“What?” Mary put her hand to her mouth. The four siblings were holding each other, Ann staring at Case with distaste. Mary shook her head in disbelief. “Why shoot them? Such a barbaric way to treat them, so it is!”
“These men wouldn’t think twice about burning you all down in your sleep, even little Elizabeth here. And there’s another in the back yard. He tried to block the back door. See that gun there? He tried to kill me. I wasn’t going to discuss the matter with him over a cup of tea. Either I shot him, or he shot me.” Case knelt by the still breathing man. “Who sent you?”
The man looked up at him, hatred in his eyes. “You think you’ve saved them? They will all die. All of you!”
Case got up and shook his head sadly. “Fanatic. Think he’s worth saving?”
Mary scowled and knelt down by the wounded man. “Now just rest there and we’ll get something for that wound.”
“You will all burn in eternity, you evil filth!” The man’s eyes were wide, staring at them all. “None of you are worth saving, your family is cursed!”
“Shut up!” Case snapped.
Mary leaned back in shock. She’d never before come across such concentrated hatred from anyone. The others huddled closer, Elizabeth sobbing in fear. Ann’s expression was switched to the blood-soaked man. Patrick looked at him with contempt while Bridget bit on her nails, her eyes wide.
“You house the spawn of Satan and you have become tainted by his evil! You are foul and corrupted and must be cleansed! Fire will cleanse you!”
Mary slowly stood up and backed away, horror on her face. Case stepped over the cackling man and gently pushed Mary towards the house. The planks from the improvised barricade lay on the ground where they had been kicked as the family had forced their way out. “Come on, Mrs. McGuire, I don’t think you want to listen to the ravings of a madman. I’ll take care of this mess.”
She nodded absently and took Elizabeth and Patrick and guided them indoors. Bridget followed swiftly but Ann remained in the doorway. “He was talking about ye, wasn’t he? Satan? Is that what he called ye?”
“Deranged and as mad as a hatter,” Case replied, looking back at the man who was coughing weakly and fading even as they watched. The loss of blood was severe and he wouldn’t last long. “I’ll dispose of the four of them. You shouldn’t get involved in any more of this.”
Ann took his arm, holding on tight. “They were going to kill all of us, weren’t they? Why? He said because we sheltered ye. It’s ye they’re really after, isn’t it? Why? Why??”
Case stared at her for a moment. “A long story and one I certainly don’t want to repeat here and now; there’s no time for it and I don’t really feel like it either. Maybe one day, Miss Ann.” He walked back to the man and looked at him. He was nearly dead but his eyes followed Case and remained staring up at him. Case went down on one knee and placed his hand on the man’s throat.
“Just to help you on your way, no offense you crazy maniac,” he said evenly.
“There’ll be others…”
“I know. And they’ll all die, just like you lot tonight.”
Ann had come up too and overheard the last few words. She put her hand to her mouth as Case’s hand closed over the throat and squeezed. The man faintly struggled and then shuddered and was still. Case sighed and stood up, looking at the corpse. “Best thing for him; saved him a lingering painful death.”
Ann looked as though she might be sick. She turned and ran for the house, vanishing inside, leaving Case alone with the dead. He looked up over the fence, over the road and over the line of trees. Beyond it, in the distance, stood Lynchburg.
Somewhere from there, some time in the future, they’d try again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
But the Brotherhood stayed away. Case wondered on that. He’d killed seven over
the space of a day and he knew each Brotherhood cell consisted of a leader and twelve followers. So he’d destroyed over half of the Lynchburg cell. Or maybe they weren’t the Lynchburg cell but the Virginia cell. In which case it’d take time for them to get more recruits and find out what went on exactly.
The community wondered what had happened to Father Schofield. It seemed he’d vanished into thin air, and the Catholic community urged for a replacement priest. A new priest soon turned up, appointed from Richmond, and services continued after an interruption of four weeks. By now it was fall, and Case was busy bringing in hay from the fields and harvesting what few cash crops they had.
He’d buried the four would-be arsonists in a corner of a remote part of the farm, away from sight. The McGuires avoided the subject from that moment on, and Mary didn’t even ask Case about Father Schofield, but her eyes looked at him in wonder when the local sheriff came asking questions. Case had been in town the day the priest had vanished and he was quizzed if he’d seen anything. Case of course denied seeing the priest. The sheriff went away, still baffled over the missing man. He also had to try to find another missing person, a Jim Lorrimer. Lorrimer had been seen in Father Schofield’s company the few days before both vanished, so it was assumed the two disappearances were connected.
