Lamb to the Slaughter

by Tony Masero

  ‘What do you want, soldier?’ asked Meriwether, not recognizing Kirby in the uniform. ‘You don’t know how to knock? Be quiet, Brutus. What’s the matter with you?’

  Meriwether looked from the dog up to the gun in Kirby’s hand and his features tightened.

  ‘You either hold that beast back or it won’t make it to morning,’ advised Kirby.

  Leaning down, Meriwether grasped the dog by its studded collar. ‘Be still!’ he ordered the creature. ‘I take it that you plan escape,’ said Meriwether calmly as he finally recognized the drunk so recently standing apparently incapable in the room.

  ‘You got that right, partner. Now you and me is going to walk out of here, peaceable like. Make noise and whatever happens I promise you will be the first to go.’

  Belle stepped into the office behind Kirby and the Captain looked up in surprise. ‘Ah! I see,’ he said. ‘This is what this is about. Dear Belle, you plan on leaving us too.’

  Belle moved over to him and released the pistol from his holster lying on top of the desk. ‘Yes sir,’ she said. ‘This is the parting of the ways.’

  ‘Get up,’ ordered Kirby.

  ‘What happened to Sergeant Qualms?’ Meriwether asked as he slowly rose to his feet with his hands raised.

  ‘He’s paying call on some of the fine ladies you have in this establishment.’

  The black dog, now released by Meriwether was approaching cautiously around the edge of the desk. Its lips were curled back in a permanent growl and the savage teeth were exposed, drool hung from its quivering mouth as its red eyes fixed on Kirby. He could see the creature’s short pointed tail was rigid and it was tightening bunched muscles ready to bound forward and leap at him.

  Kirby stepped forward quickly and swung down, cracking the beast on its broad forehead with his pistol butt. There was a clunk and a whine as the animal took the blow, then it twisted and snarled up at him. It snapped a few times and backed away, ready to attack again. The dog began to crisscross the room as if caged, backwards and forwards it patrolled, always keeping Kirby cautiously in its sights.

  ‘That was unnecessary,’ complained Meriwether.

  ‘Not from where I’m standing. Put the damned thing on a leash.’

  Reluctantly, the Captain came around his desk and attached a leather strap to the dog’s collar.

  ‘Move it Captain, I ain’t about to tell you again.’

  Meriwether held the straining dog back as he approached Kirby.

  ‘You do this right,’ he warned. ‘And you live. You walk out that door ahead of us. I’ll be right behind you. Any questions from the sentries out there and you say you’re taking the prisoner personal for urgent court-martial questioning. Got it?’

  Meriwether sneered, ‘You think they will fall for that?’

  ‘Yeah, if they’re dumb enough and you don’t try anything stupid. Now, get along.’

  They moved out into the corridor and Kirby whispered to Belle, ‘Stay close,’ as Meriwether pushed the street door open.

  The street outside was cobbled and lit by a row of lamps on the front of the prison. They cast a stark light and heavy shadows patterned the road creating pools of dense black where the light failed to reach. Distantly the rumble of artillery could be heard, it was a long way off but the battle for the peninsular was making its presence felt and the street was empty as fearful townsfolk stuck to their houses.

  Five guards dressed in greatcoats patrolled the street under the prison walls; they carried rifles on their shoulders and marched individual beats up and down on given sections that did not overlap. The man nearest came to attention as he saw Meriwether and his dog. He noticed another soldier behind the Captain and a female prisoner in tow.

  ‘Captain?’ asked the guard. ‘Everything alright, sir?’

  ‘We have to take the prisoner in for questioning,’ explained Meriwether, glowering meaningfully at the man as Brutus twisted and curled restlessly around his feet, growling and keeping an eye permanently fixed on Kirby.

  ‘Shall I order up your carriage, sir?’ asked the guard.

  ‘That’s alright, we’ll walk.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ said the guard doubtfully, watching the dog and frowning. The man was unsure and troubled by the dog’s restlessness. It was hard for him to make out Meriwether’s features in the stark shadows cast by the lanterns but he sensed something was not quite right. No officer would walk when he could ride.

  The other guards continued their patrols but each had noticed the Captain talking to the guard and watched from the corners of their eyes.

  Kirby came up close behind Meriwether intending to urge him on with his presence. Feeling him close, Meriwether let the dog’s leash slip from his fingers and dived away.

  ‘Prisoners escaping!’ he bawled as he threw himself away from the two. The dog roared a bark and took two running steps towards Kirby before launching itself in the air. Kirby’s bullet caught it in its wide-open slavering mouth and took the back of its head away. The heavy creature carried on its projected journey through the air and sixty pounds of dead weight slammed into Kirby, sending him staggering back.

  Belle raised her hidden pistol and, as Kirby had taught her, she cocked and fired at the guard who was already raising his rifle in Kirby’s direction. The bullet puffed dust from his greatcoat as it struck and the man spun away, his rifle shot booming off high into the night sky.

  In a moment of shock the other four guards spun around and began running back down the street towards them. Meriwether had backed away against the wall and was staring down and shaking his head in dismay at sight of the dead dog lying in a pool of blood.

  Belle pointed her pistol at him, her jaw set and eyes steely.

  ‘You want to feel the pain?’ she asked, cocking the gun. ‘That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? You disgusting freak.’

  Meriwether, his back to the brickwork, stared back wildly at her, his features twisting into a map of hatred.

  Kirby moved in and fired over her shoulder dropping one of the oncoming guards, before spinning around and bringing another down that was coming up behind them.

  ‘Come on, Belle. This ain’t the time.’

  ‘This swine deserves it,’ she snarled, keeping Meriwether firmly in her sights.

  ‘Hold off, they ain’t firing at us for fear of hitting him.’

  Sounds of the alarm being raised were coming from inside the prison and Kirby leant forward and grabbed Meriwether by the collar. He placed his pistol to the Captain’s head and the oncoming guards halted, their rifles held at the ready.

  ‘Drop them!’ Kirby ordered. ‘Or he gets one in the brain.’

  The guards unsure of what to do slowly lowered their rifles and pulling Meriwether with him, Kirby backed into the street towards an alley across the way. Belle ran beside him and the two headed for the shadows keeping the guards under their weapons.

  ‘What shall we do Captain?’ one of the guards called.

  ‘Shoot them down!’ bellowed Meriwether. ‘Don’t mind me. Kill them, you fools!’

  Kirby clapped him a blow on the side of the head, ‘Shut it!’ he growled as they plunged back into the deeper darkness of the alley.

  More guards were tumbling out of the prison doors in a rush calling out confused queries as they came, all of them were unsure of what was happening.

  ‘Now we run,’ said Kirby. ‘You ready for it, Belle?’

  ‘What about him?’ asked Belle.

  Kirby raised his pistol high and brought it down hard on Meriwether’s head, knocking him unconscious with the blow.

  ‘He’s served his purpose,’ said Kirby, loping off down the alleyway.

  With a quick scornful look at the tumbled shape on the alley floor, Belle bit her lip and followed. ‘If anyone needed a bullet in the brain it was that one,’ she said as she caught up with Kirby.

  ‘Save your breath,’ he said. ‘We got some running to do.’

  Gathering her skirts, Belle followed Kirby’s
lead as best she could down the unlit alleyway.

  ‘Where we headed?’ she asked.

  ‘The train depot. Maybe we can get lost in there and hop a ride.’

  ‘They’ll be turning this place upside down come morning,’ Belle panted.

  ‘Let’s hope we’re well gone by then.’

  The sounds of shouting and running feet followed behind them and a rifle shot boomed past. Kirby turned and fired blind at the following guards before turning sharply off into one of the right-angled roads that made up the grid of the Richmond street plan.

  There was little street lighting and it was a dark run through mostly empty streets. Those that did notice the two at the late hour paid little interest other than a moment’s curiosity. Belle and Kirby twisted and turned down intersecting roads, Kirby guiding himself in a roughly southerly direction by the smell of water coming off the river. A lone rider came towards them down the street and Kirby did not hesitate.

  ‘Hey there!’ he called and the rider pulled up cautiously.

  ‘What’s a-foot?’ the man asked.

  ‘Sorry, mister,’ said Kirby, dragging the rider from his mount. ‘I need your pony.’

  The man slumped to the ground and Kirby swung himself into the saddle. ‘Here,’ he called to Belle, offering his arm and as she grasped it he pulled her up behind him. In a moment, Kirby drove in his heels and raced off down the road.

  ‘Thief!’ bellowed the rider left standing in the street. ‘Horse thief! Goddamn it, they stole my best critter.’

  As they approached the area to the south of the city below the square containing the prestigious city hall and the capitol building, Kirby slowed to a walk so as not to attract attention. There were many more military present here; most of them busy preparing blockades and emplacements in preparation for the expected siege as the sounds of gunfire on the distant horizon promised.

  ‘What are those guns?’ asked Belle.

  ‘Guess it’s an attack. Must be a battle going on over there,’ said Kirby, watching the flashes of gunfire light up the clouds.

  ‘Then lets head that way, maybe we can cross over into our own lines.’

  ‘I reckon there’ll be too many troops between them and us. No, we’d best hole up until things get clearer.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Joe Bellows was awoken by all the hubbub in the street. He and Obie had been allotted a room that had the luxury of two pallets and straw to sleep on and slowly Joe dragged himself from the straw filled mattress and made his way to the window as shots rang out below.

  ‘Whassat?’ mumbled Obie, rolling over on his bed. ‘I hear gun shots.’

  ‘Yeah, there’s some sort of hoo-hah going on in the street,’ said Joe from the window.

  ‘Them Yankees got here already?’

  ‘No, it ain’t that. I can’t quite see…. Oh, my Lord!’ he gasped.

  ‘This better be good,’ rumbled Obie, finally condescending to coming over to join him. He was dressed only in his long johns and feeling the chill.

  ‘I know those two, you see them?’

  Obie saw the armed figure of Kirby dressed in a Confederate greatcoat as he pulled Meriwether across the street with a beautiful blond-haired woman alongside.

  ‘She sure is a looker,’ Obie observed. ‘They making a break for it.’

  ‘Belle Slaughter and Kirby Langstrom,’ spat Joe. ‘Those two good-for-nothings. They had me up for hanging, they’re Pinkerton agents, the pair of them.’

  ‘Hell! You don’t say. They’re the ones that put you inside? Well, looks like the boots on the other foot and they’re lighting out now.’

  They watched as a band of guards raced to follow the two runaways down the alley and then a stunned Meriwether was helped out from the shadows held up by two of his men.

  ‘They must have whopped the Captain,’ said Obie, studying Meriwether’s pale face under the stark lights. ‘He don’t look too well.’

  An alarm bell was ringing somewhere in the prison, it was loud and a little too late but the urgent sound was stirring the whole prison population. Loud shouts of query and catcalls were coming from the prisoner’s tiers and the restless sound was adding to the general noise of uproar that echoed around the prison.

  ‘Lets get down there,’ said Joe, making for the door, ‘I want to catch me those two.’ As deserting informers, they were not prisoners as such and under no guard so both Joe and Obie bounded unhindered from their room and headed down the stairs making for the entranceway. They were racing along the corridor when Meriwether was helped in through the main door.

  ‘Where are you two going?’ he snapped, clutching at his aching head.

  ‘I know them escapees, Captain. They’s Pinkerton agents.’

  ‘Wait,’ said Meriwether. ‘Come into my office. You,’ he said, turning to one of the guards. ‘Get the prison surgeon, it seems I am bleeding and I want my dog brought in. Don’t leave him lying in the street. Where’s Sergeant Qualms? Where is that wretched man, go get him and bring him to me.’

  Meriwether slumped in his office chair, clutching a handkerchief to the bleeding lump on the back of his head.

  He slammed his fist down on the desktop making both Joe and Obie jump.

  ‘Damn them!’ cursed Meriwether angrily. ‘They shall pay for this. Killed my dog, they did. Poor Brutus, such a faithful beast. My God, when I have them I shall devise such an ending for them as this prison has never seen before.’

  ‘Guess you have to catch them first, Captain,’ observed Joe. ‘I can help. I know them well.’

  ‘Spies, you know these spies?’

  ‘I met up with them before the war, sir. They had me falsely accused, I have no love for either of them, believe me.’

  ‘And that woman, that conniving invidious bitch,’ spat Meriwether. ‘I’ll have her bare back whipped raw to the bone.’

  ‘Belle Slaughter? She’s a cunning piece of tail, that’s for sure,’ agreed Joe. ‘Might look fine but under that pretty skin a real she-devil exists.’

  ‘The slut,’ snarled Meriwether, wincing as he dabbed at his head. ‘Doctor!’ he bawled. ‘Will no one fetch me medical aid?’

  Joe hurried to the door, ‘Doctor! Doctor! Get a doctor in here pronto. Wounded officer,’ he shouted down the corridor and was pleased to see a portly man with a drinker’s red nose dressed in a dirty white jacket and carrying a leather bag coming towards him.

  ‘You the surgeon?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Of course I am,’ said the man, breathing liquor fumes, as he brushed past impatiently and pushed into the office. He bustled over to Meriwether, ‘Now then, sir. Let me see this grievous wound.’

  ‘About time,’ snarled Meriwether, leaning forward so the medical man could get a better view. The Doctor parted hair and raised an eyebrow at sight of the bleeding lump.

  ‘Why, sir. Nothing much, nothing at all. We’ll have that soon fixed,’ he snapped open his bag and began taking out a roll of lint and a half-sized bottle of whiskey.

  ‘Might not be much to you,’ growled Meriwether. ‘But it hurts like the very devil to me.’

  ‘Now, this might sting a little,’ said the doctor with a malicious look in his eye as he swigged healthily from the whiskey bottle before sparing a dribble over the captain’s lump.

  Meriwether wrinkled his face at the sharp pain and looked over at Joe and Obie standing watching by the doorway.

  ‘It appears you may be useful in the apprehension of these runaways, I think it best you make report to our security people. I’ll have you escorted up there later.’

  He was interrupted as a red-faced corporal rushed into the office and snapped a salute.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Meriwether. ‘You have them? They are taken?’

  ‘Afraid not, sir,’ panted the guard. ‘We were on foot after them and they stole a horse and made clean away.’

  ‘God’s teeth and damn it!’ cursed Meriwether. ‘Well they won’t get far; this town is surrounded by military. S
pread notice, Corporal. I want every detachment stationed around the city to have word. We’ll have such a hue and cry this city has never seen before, I want those two back here.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said the corporal.

  ‘And find me Sergeant Qualms!’

  The corporal faltered, shuffling uncomfortably at the door.

  ‘What is it, man? There is a problem, speak up.’

  ‘It’s Sergeant Qualms, sir. I’m afraid he’s dead.’

  ‘Dead! You mean those swine did for him?’

  ‘No, sir, not quite. He was up in the women’s quarters, him and the section guard. They’re both gone.’

  ‘You mean they were in there indulging themselves?’

  ‘Hard to say, sir,’ squirmed the corporal. ‘It appears they were…. Well, kind of crushed to death.’

  ‘Crushed?’

  ‘It looks like a body of women set about them and then…. Well…. They sort of squashed them both until they stopped breathing.’

  Meriwether brushed off the last of the doctor’s attention as he wound the bandaged lint, ‘Then they shall pay for it, the harpies. Murder of a pair of our men shall not go unpunished. Nuisance that, Qualms was very useful. Still, I’m sure we’ll find another. You, Corporal, what’s your name?’

  ‘Beasley, sir.’

  ‘Very well, Beasley. Are you up to the task?’

  ‘I’ll sure do my best, sir.’

  ‘Right then, you are advanced to sergeant and will take on Qualms’ duties. But most immediately, once notice has been passed on of the escapees, at first light these two are to be taken to the offices of the Signal Bureau to give up their information.’

  They had found shelter in an abandoned watchman’s shed across the river

  It was not the most comfortable of places being next to the coal depot on the southern Manchester side of the river. The huge yard outside contained mountainous piles of coal to power the railroad and there was the ever-present tang and dust from the coal hanging in the air.

  Kirby and Belle had parted company with the horse and made their way across on a stolen rowboat wending a way cautiously between the small islands under the narrow Mayo’s Bridge until they reached the opposite shore where the coal yards lay.