Francis let himself out. I did not linger by myself long, for fear of letting the enemy of silence begin to prey upon my idle mind. I continued to look over the news reports in the vein hope of finding any scrap of information, but no evidence presented itself to me. I ended up slouched at the desk until midnight passed and I made my way to bed.
I managed not to sleep. Instead, I lay awake at the dancing shadows about the room, living in fear of everything. It felt as though the world was closing in on me and I was struggling to breathe. I felt an inexplicable fear that my body was rebuilding itself, my mind subconsciously telling myself that it was all too late. That every hour I lay in bed staring at the ceiling was already claimed on borrowed time. Eventually, I had to rise.
I huddled by the fireplace of my living room, trying to warm from the twilight cold. My mind, exhausted from the lack of sleep, let the thoughts in. I thought that it was over, or perhaps at the very least currently ending. There may be one way to get out of such a mess, but surely there would be no more opportunities. To linger would only result in further nights like tonight where I ruined myself, held as a prisoner in my own mind until the eventual morning when I do not wake.
I thought of Lilly. What was her outcome in all of this? A brother who abandoned her, or a brother who was killed, there was little else. I had to leave; there was nothing else for it. I could escape with what little money I had amassed. It would not last long, but it would be better than remaining alongside those I posed a danger to. Where I would go was unknown, but I figured it best that way. If I lost myself in the depths of London, then He would be lost, too. With my disappearance, Francis would surely follow suit, and with the both of us gone James would avoid getting too close to the truth. I had only Lilly to worry about. She was the thing of most value I would be leaving behind, but I convinced myself that her husband, no matter how much I detested the man, would be there for her, and that she would be far safer with me distanced from her.
Ultimately, these remained as thoughts. It seemed clear as I sat lonesome by the fire, but as soon as the sun rose and the fire died out, I found that will had been sapped. The tiredness and the thoughts had pecked at me, and once more my resolve had succumbed to London.
I stayed true to my original intentions and decided to visit James’s house come the morning. I missed the sight of his modestly small house and welcomed any man about me who did not flaunt his wealth as status. He was not at home on the morning, nor on the afternoon. When I visited again on the evening I could see the flickering of candlelight from within his living room. I knocked on the door.
He smiled as he opened the door to me. “Eric, it is unusual to see you here at this hour. What can I do for you?”
“I am sorry to disturb you James, only I do not see you as much as I would like.”
James seemed pleased at my calling and ushered my inside. “I was hoping you would come at some point, actually.”
“Why is that?”
“I am stumped with this case. As nobody at the station has any ideas, I need someone to bounce ideas off.”
I laughed. “I am no great detective, James. I am sure you are able to handle any investigation without my input, although I will aid you where I can.”
“I would not be too sure of that, but I know what you are saying. I do not view myself in quite the same way as others see me. Besides, you bring an alternate viewpoint to those of us who are too deep into the case. A bigger picture view, if you will.”
I found myself confounded by James’ self-perception. I remain silent on it. “Well, what do you have?”
“Well, we know the murders are business related. Each person that we know to have been killed by Jack was a prominent figure in business.”
“So you believe the motive is to benefit a business? All these murders are a way of making money?”
“I believe so. These are calculated killings, dissimilar from most petty crimes. Do not be fooled by the savagery of the attacks, these are premeditated and concise murders. However, I do not believe the instigator and killer are one and the same.” James paused, considering his words. “From the locations of the murders we can deduce the murderer is based somewhere in East London. Furthermore, the murders committed by Jack have all been prolific businessmen. We can assume that the killings are for financial gain. However, as the men worked in different sectors it is difficult to ascertain how each murder could benefit one man.'
I found myself amazed by the realisation James had made on such limited information. It made sense that the murders could be viewed like that, but I had not considered that people would delve so deeply into the rationale behind the murders without knowing the groups inner workings. I presumed that the other members of the group would have been worried if they learnt of these findings earlier, although such worries now were secondary.
James continued. “The only person who would benefit from such killings would be the head of a company – he would be the one to directly get the financial gain from the growth, so we should rule out an employee. However, if you look over the times at which the murders were committed – usually late in the evening – I find it unlikely that someone could both run a company and stalk the streets as a murderer all night without drawing too much attention to themselves. It is much more likely that he has used either his wealth or power to use someone to carry out these killings.”
It seemed I had little to lead James on, for he had already made his own conclusions. I just had to make sure he remained on the correct path. “You mean a contract killer?”
“Exactly. If we find either the hirer or the killer, it would lead us directly to the other. I know what you are thinking, that it is perhaps too farfetched. Not at all I am afraid. You do this job long enough and nothing seems out of the ordinary anymore. You could do this for a living, Eric. It is not too late.”
“I could never be as good at this as you. You are practically a celebrity of London after that Red Barn affair.”
The passion from James' face vanished all but instantly. “The Red Barn murder was the greatest mistake of my life.”
“Do not tell me you are shying from the spotlight again?”
“No. It is not that. We got the wrong man. It could lead to a great denouncement of my position. Evidence is coming to light that directly contradicts my findings in the case.”
“But how could you have been wrong? He admitted it and everything.”
“He admitted it when half starved, exhausted and confused. As soon as he went to the gallows I had this horrid feeling, but it was too late.”
“Who else could have been the culprit? How could there be evidence that you overlooked, it was a huge case. You were so sure of your findings.”
“The mother was lead to the undiscovered grave of her murdered daughter by a ghost? I doubt it. I always doubted it. It was sensationalist marketing that led that case to its notoriety. She used the ghost fabrication as an alibi. It was a means to exhume the body of her daughter and bring attention to her cause. Corder was framed.”
“Why would the mother kill the daughter?”
“Her daughter was secretly dating him, a delinquent. She had tarnished the honourable family name. It is more common than you would expect. You learn that after a few years in the force. People are rotten. The mother has been implicating herself since the execution of Corder. That loathsome Irish drunkard was the perfect suspect. No alibi. Motive of money. A list of crimes as long as my arm. He deserved to die.”
“How did you realize he was innocent?”
“The mother all but confessed to the murder. Case after case – it is all the same. Sometimes a jilted lover. Sometimes an angry parent. Ann Marten managed to get away with the murder, but she could not let herself rest. One murder was adequate, but a second broke her spirit. How ironic that the death of her daughter was just. But the lowlife with whom she would not consort brought out her moral streak. The light shining on me is now a curse.”
“Can you not go back? Surely there i
s evidence that could be used? Make this wrong into a right.”
“The force would be ashamed. We would be admitting we sent an innocent man to the gallows. The police are impeachable. The best thing we can do is forget about it.”
“For years you talked about making the world a better place. Yet here you are, happy to let a murderer go free because of one mistake?”
“A mistake, an accident – It is not as easy as you would think. It may have only been a year previous, but I was naive. The media attention misled me, there was such weight on solving the case. That is why I want to do this one right, the media are hounding over it, but I will not let them blind me this time. I may have failed before, but I will do this one right.”
“And what of the murderer of my Father?”
James looked startled. “What?”
“You promised me you would find the murderer, but again only silence.”
James paused and looked down. I could tell he had forgotten, and instantly regretted doing so. “Yes… I am sorry Eric. There was so little to go on. It looked like a chance killing, such a waste of a great life. I wish I had more for you, but I do not. I can only be honest.”
I paused as the thought of my Father calmed my frantic mind. “You believe there is no hope to find the murderer?”
He slowly shook his head. “It has been so long since the event, with so little to go on. What a tragic waste that your Father…”
James stopped, and I knew instantly why. It was the reason I had hoped he would stop for. Although Francis may argue that I was bringing him too close to me, I would argue that I needed to give reason to be so invested to help.
James muttered to himself. “What if it was related?”
“Related? Related to what?”
“Spring-heeled Jack!”
“What do you mean, Jack? James, talk to me. What is going on here? You think Jack killed my Father? You do not think that a little farfetched?”
“It is definitely a possibility I must at least explore.”
“But Jack was not killing people back then.”
“How do we know this? Can we really draw a line from when these murders began? Besides, did you ever read the report?”
I grimaced, not acting this time. “No, I did not and I do not wish to.”
James sprung to his feet and began to rummage about in a cabinet. He muttered to himself for a while before bringing out an old paper, opening it and presenting it to me.
I pushed it away. “James, I really do not want to read this.”
“I think you need to read it sooner or later.”
I let out a deep agitated sigh before glancing over the article. “John Godwin was found brutally murdered two days ago in his home... James, is this really necessary?”
“For the sake of Christ, may you stop with this soft stomached routine?” James snatched the paper from me and read aloud against my protest. “The victim was found with deep cuts, as if from thin steel claws, and had been hacked to death.”
I winced at the mental imagery the cold statements induced.
He looked at me. “Does this sound familiar?”
“Yes. Yes it does.”
“It is not impossible – Jack has to have come from somewhere, what if we just never noticed until now? He could have been operating in this area for a while now right under our noses. It all fits into place. He had his own business; all he had to do was provoke the wrong person. Christ, this could have been going on for years. Did your Father have any business rivals?”
I stood. Images of Arthur Shaw flashed in my mind. “Not that I know of.”
“You definitely cannot think of any prior to his death?”
“No. I was not in England, if you remember. James, I think it is time I went home.”
James looked up at me, as if recognising that I were stood for the first time, and the excitement from his face vanished and turned to concern. “Eric, I am sorry. I can get carried away with things I realise. I know it is not pleasant to hear, but you need to face this possibility.”
“I know. I do not blame you for bringing this to my attention. I just need some time to think, to go home and sleep. I will visit again soon, James. Until then, will you look into this further?”
“Yes, yes of course. If it means I will find the murderer of your Father, then even more so.”
“Thank you, James.”
He gave me a sombre smile before seeing me out and letting me back into the cold harshness of the night.
Chapter XXI
I managed to sleep that night. It was an exhausted sleep, heavy and dreamless; although I am sure my mind was still tortured by thoughts. I slept through to midday. Even the pounding at my front door did not wake me until the third time round.
By the time I managed to clothe myself and stumble downstairs, the pounding at the door had since moved to the front windows. When I began to unlock the door they stopped and I could hear footsteps rush up to the porch in eager await of the door opening.
To little surprise it was Francis, who grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me inside, closing the door behind him. He spoke at me, but it was a desperate and confused ramble, and I could not make sense of it until I had calmed him somewhat.
He said, “The Mayor has been killed.”
I knew that Francis was not merely visiting to deliver the latest headlines. “By Him? When? Last night?”
“Yes, they found him in his office murdered. Eric, he somehow got into his office without anyone spotting him and killed the Mayor, one of the most high profile men in the area. If Jack can kill him then He can kill any of us with ease. Why he did it I do not know, an example of his power?”
“I think I know why,” I said, leading Francis into the lounge for us to sit. “A few days ago Lucius was arrested.”
“Arrested? But, what happened?”
“He told them everything.”
“But we only saw him a couple of days ago, that does not make any sense.”
“They let him free. They did not believe him. They thought him absent, or seeking attention. They said the idea was a serious accusation, but preposterous nevertheless. Regardless, they released him and it looks like Jack found out as a result.”
“Lucius told them everything? Does James know?”
“Yes.”
“And what does he think?”
“That Lucius was suspect in his actions, but what he said were lies.”
Francis tilted his head back in frustration. “James will not forget this, and as evidence mounts he will entertain the idea. He has the truth, even if he chooses not to believe it. It will only be a matter of time until he realises it has possibility. What exactly have you told him?”
“I did nothing to lead him to Lucius, the man himself did that much. Honestly Francis, I told him nothing of the sort to suspect our involvement. Only Lucius has uttered such words to him.”
Francis threw his arms out in rage, “Well, he thinks him suspect and will not rest until he understands it.”
“You know what Lucius is like, he has all numbers of illegal things under him. With hope, James will simply suspect one of those.”
“No, no I don’t know. But I feel it. What else would it be? Lucius has been adept at bribing the law away from his fence, but something got through this time and he has cast too large a line in James’ direction. Maybe that was the intention all along?”
“I suspect so, but unfortunately Jack caught wind. I suspect the Mayors death was a warning to Lucius and to us that we should not involve outside parties… I worry that it could have been James instead. He is next accountable in the case. The Mayor headed it and took the public face, but James is the inner workings.”
Francis nodded. “But there is no way to distance the two, not now that James is on this path.”
“Yes, that is why I will continue to aid him. To hinder him now would only endanger him.”
“Yes, yes I agree, although I still do not like this arrangement I
will say no more on the matter. I see no other way out.” Francis stood and hazily made his way to the front door. “I will see myself out, Eric. Keep yourself surrounded by people, to be alone now will only invite Him in.”
“Yes. And you too.”
Francis nodded and left, shutting out the light of day with him. I remained in the dusty house for some time, but did not return to bed. I cleaned myself up and made every attempt to awaken myself fully, and then made my way out to pick up the newspaper.
The stands were heaving when I arrived, and several people had already told me the news (with some varying details) before I managed to make my way to the front. People were genuinely horrified by the atrocity that had happened. When I finally managed to purchase my own paper, I saw that the entire front page was devoted to the news:
THE TIMES, MONDAY, MARCH 5 1838
MAYOR OF LONDON MURDERED
THE LORD MAYOR OF LONDON, John Cowan, was found dead in the late hours of Sunday 4 March. He had been killed whilst working at his office and his body left on the steps of Mansion House.
Although police say that at this time there are no witnesses, the murder bares all the marks of SPRING-HEELED JACK, the terror of London, and many have gone so far as to claim that the demon had committed such an act in response to the police investigation opened against him.
The article continued for a while, before diving into a memorial of John Cowan’s life and achievements. The first few lines had told me all I needed to know. John Cowan was dead, and definitely murdered by Jack. Whether the media had made this connection on their own, been told off-hand by the police, or by some other sinister connection, I did not know. Neither was it relevant now. Jack was merely flexing in order to show his strength, to rule by fear. All eyes were upon him and London felt as though it could only respond to him, never apprehend him.
My next action was to go visit James, but as I suspected he was not home. Not now, of all times. I did not wish to pester him at work, not that he would be able to give me the time of day anyway. I returned home and paced for several hours, before bathing and then grooming. Anything to placate my mind.
The Killing Hand Page 18
