Shadows in the White City

by Robert W. Walker

  Jane jumped in. “Philo’s right, Christian. You really have to do something about it.”

  Fenger looked hurt but said nothing.

  “It’s more hearse than ambulance,” Jane added, “and I inspected it and found it a hotbed of disease organisms!”

  “Not to mention the stench,” finished Philo Keane.

  “We’re not funded for anything better at the moment.”

  “Regardless, he goes in the police wagon.”

  “I suppose you two are the closest thing to kin he has, so whatever your wish, Mr. Keane, Dr. Francis.”

  This was enough for the cops who took Fenger at his word—that it would be Ransom’s last wish to be kept out of the hands of Shanks and Gwinn. Six men lifted Ransom as they might a coffin, and this procession moved toward the entry point like so many pallbearers.

  Christian pointed out that Ransom’s cane lay nearby. The wolf’s-head was stained red-ochre with blood. “His attackers felt the sting of his blow, and from the number of wounds all over his body, I’d say there were more than these two maniacs coming at him with knives.”

  Jane tried to imagine the life-and-death struggle down here. “He’s got wounds to his legs that, if standing, he’d have taken from midgets or children.”

  “Compared to Logan, Ransom did damn well,” said Gabby, turning heads. “I counted twenty-seven stab wounds on Logan’s body before I gave up.”

  This silenced them as Jane lifted Ransom’s cane and held firm to the walking stick. “Suppose Christian that you and Alastair were right—that there was an entire family of these cannibals down here?”

  Fenger replied, “And so how many little monsters with ice picks and knives have escaped?”

  “And what ages are the ones who got away?” Jane wondered aloud.

  “Right now, we’ve got to get this man to my surgery and immediately.”

  “I think we’ve stopped the worst of the blood flow,” she replied.

  Gabby added, “He’s strong. He’ll pull through like before. Won’t he?”

  “Keep to your prayers, ladies,” replied Fenger. “He’s damn near bled to death.”

  Ransom made a good recovery, but a painful one. Fenger, fearing he’d become a morphine addict, controlled it personally, and on seeing Dr. McKinnette go near Ransom, he ran the man off with a proviso to the nurses at Cook County that no other physician be allowed near Ransom, especially Dr. Tewes and Dr. McKinnette. He made it clear that should it happen, people would lose their jobs.

  However, he did allow personal friends visiting hours with his patient, so Jane Francis and Gabby were camped out at his bedside for days during his recovery. When he came back to himself, Gabby had gone home, but Jane had remained, and she now said to him, “This is getting to be an annoying habit with you.”

  After drinking a pitcher of water, Alastair asked, “What of Behan? Afraid I know Logan’s fate. When I saw that pack of animals feeding on Jedidiah, I attacked.”

  “Ken’s a hero—first to find you. Saved you from drowning in two feet of water and rising.”

  “Fool—they’d’ve given ’im a citation had he let me die!”

  “As a matter of fact, you’re both up for a citation—you for putting an end to Leather Apron and his gang, and Behan for bravery.”

  “Not all are caught, though, and it was no gang, but a family, the parents teaching their young’uns to be man-eaters.”

  “Yes, we few know the truth, but newspapers have it only as a gang. A bit less disturbing euphemism for the truth.”

  “Perhaps that’s for the better.”

  “Better for whom?” she challenged.

  “The merchants, the developers, the financiers, and politicians.”

  She sighed. “The public in general.”

  “Yes, what does it serve the public to know that in Chicago homeless are driven to cannibalism to survive?”

  “A case of excessive aberrant, abhorrent behavior, and not an epidemic. Look, you’ve evidence the father was Bloody Mary’s son. He came here, used her. Chicago did not spawn him. In fact, Gabby’s learned he was born in London.”

  “Aye, home of the original Leather Apron.”

  “It came across the Atlantic along with disease and other vermin.”

  “It’s him, all right. We’ll have to post a letter to Inspector Heise, Scotland Yard.”

  “Look, you brought down the father and mother, Alastair. It’s ended now. Those escaped children can’t last long without their parents.”

  “Are they scouring the city for those three kids?”

  “They are and in time, I’m sure, they’ll be found as well.”

  “And the infant? What of the babe?”

  “We may never know. Perhaps when the children are found, we can find out.”

  “Then what? What’ll the grand state of Illinois, the County of Cook, and the City of Chicago do with those killer kids when they surface?”

  “I can’t say. Place them in an institution, I suspect. Work with them. They’re feral children.”

  “Feral is the word, indeed. They have it in their heads now that the best meat is other kids—human flesh. That’ll never change.”

  “Your job now is to get plenty of rest, get your health back.”

  “Those three, two boys and a girl, they were…Jane, they’d be better off today had I been able to finish ’em all.”

  “Alastair, you did everything humanly possible.”

  “I suppose…I suppose.” Ransom still felt weak. “My greatest fear is for the homeless.”

  “The shelter children, yes, I know.”

  “Every child in Chicago remains in danger from those hyenas out there, wherever they are.”

  “Don’t be naive, not you, Alastair. Our children have always been in danger from one kind of hyena or another, and after those murderous kids are caught, the homeless children will still be in danger from others.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “We start up a fund-raiser. If the suffragettes can raise funds for their cause, then, by God, we can raise money for this cause.”

  “Whatever I can do, just tell me when and where.”

  Just then young Audra stood in the doorway. The young girl was shaking with tears, overcome by grief. Jane went to her and held her close. She broke down and began confessing nonstop. “They made me do it. If I didn’t, Zoroaster—their father—he said they’d slice me up and eat me! So I did it. I did it!”

  Jane rushed to Audra and hugged her. Ransom flashed back to what he knew of the girl’s involvement. She procured for Leather Apron. Was one of them, even if that hadn’t been her in that tunnel the night he’d killed the parents.

  “Easy…easy, now, Audra!” Jane reassured her. “Whatever did you do that is so horrible?”

  Ransom had eased from his bed, and Audra tried to pull away from Jane, fearful of Alastair, who asked, “Do you mean to say, Audra, that you led—lured—some of the children to Leather Apron?” It explained why most victims had not been in Aurdra’s gang. She wouldn’t willingly sacrifice her own, and Danielle’s death may’ve been a warning to Audra to keep silent.

  Audra fought to pull away, but Jane held her in a bear hug. She broke down completely, terrified of her fate, terrified of what Ransom might do to her—the man who had slain Zoroaster—and equally terrified of the three children of Zoroaster still at large.

  “So this is how Anne Chapman, Alice Cadin, and even your friend Danny disappeared—by trusting you!” Ransom shouted. “Using their trust, your toothy smile and innocent looks.”

  “I had no choice! They’d kill me if I didn’t do it!”

  “Hell, who wouldn’t follow her into a warehouse or into a bloody drainpipe?”

  “Easy on her, Alastair! She’s a victim here, too!” shouted Jane. “Can you imagine the terror she has lived through and the guilt?”

  “I suppose not,” replied Alastair, “since I’m not given to leading my friends to slaughter!”

  �
��Bloody Mary made me do it! I didn’t want to!” Audra’s cries only increased.

  Jane held her tight. “We’re going to get you help, Audra. None of this was your fault. You’re just a child, a frightened child.”

  “Have they contacted you, the other three Aprons?” demanded Alastair.

  “No, no!” she blurted out, and between sobs, she added, “I—I came to f-find Miss F-Francis f-for help!”

  “I’m going to get you admitted for observation,” said Jane, “and we’ll take one day at a time, Audra. All right? All right?”

  “All right.” Audra wiped her tears with a hanky Jane handed her. “Thank you, Miss Francis.”

  But as soon as Jane relaxed her hold on Audra, the child fled out and down the corridor, past people Jane shouted at to stop her. With the speed and agility of a sewer rat, Audra was out of the hospital in moments. Out front of the hospital, Jane gave chase, but it was no use. Audra had disappeared back into the streets. Jane scanned every direction. Nothing. She wondered if she’d ever see Audra again.

  News of Audra’s visit and her betrayal spread among all of Jane’s closest friends. Gabby, of course, took the news the hardest, disbelieving. Alastair retold the story to Philo, Christian, and to the man who purportedly saved his life down in that black hole—Ken Behan—when he came to visit at the hospital. Soon everyone in officialdom knew to be on the lookout for this poor child, and in the meantime, Jane remained angry at Alastair for frightening the child off as he had. “You big…bear,” she’d spoken her last to him as she stormed away.

  A few weeks later, Alastair had arrived home from the hospital, and an hour into a nap, someone rang his doorbell. He made his groggy way along on his cane to the door, and when he opened it, he found Philo Keane and Dr. Christian Fenger looking stern and grim on his doorstep.

  “We have a matter to discuss,” said Christian, “you and I, Alastair, and I brought your best friend along to…well, frankly, to keep you from killing me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Doctor. Come in, the both of you. I’ll put on water to boil, and we’ll find some tea.”

  “That would be good.”

  Philo shot Alastair a look that only puzzled him.

  Once everyone was seated with a cup of tea, the three old friends stared from one to another, until Ransom said, “Well, what’s this about?”

  “The good news, Ransom, is that those three feral children, the ones who got away, will never again feed on human flesh.”

  “Then they’ve been caught? Great! When…by whom?”

  “Not caught—killled.”

  “Killed? How? What happened? A manhunt uncovered them, and they came out swinging, heh?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “How did they die, then?”

  “Kohler’s involved.”

  “Kohler? Damn the man. He’s taking credit for it all, isn’t he? No public release of this information.”

  “Actually, no one else knows, and it’s to stay that way.”

  “Christian, will you stop talking in cryptic code and tell me what the hell you’re driving at?”

  “It began with that girl Audra’s confessing in your room. Seems she tried confessional at a church, but all she got from the priest was raped—according to her.”

  “Raped by a priest? Impossible.”

  Philo hadn’t said a word.

  “What’s happened, Philo?”

  “They got wind of Audra—Kohler and Chapman!” Christian blurted out.

  Ransom digested this, his face bleeding white. “They got their hands on Audra, didn’t they?”

  “They made her talk, yes.”

  “Is she…is she alive?” He recalled Bloody Mary and Bosch’s double.

  Philo piped in. “They let her live.”

  “But she’s no longer the same and never will be again,” muttered Christian. “In fact, she is now a permanent resident at the asylum.”

  “Those bastards!” exploded Ransom. “They tortured her until her mind snapped, didn’t they?”

  “Not before she led them to the feral children,” replied Christian.

  Philo choked out, “That maniac Chapman made her watch as he fed those kids to…to…”

  “Let me guess. Fed them alive to the senator’s starved pigs.”

  “Only after skinning them alive.” Dr. Fenger then tossed a small bundle tied with twine into Alastair’s lap, causing him to spill his tea.

  “What the hell? What is this?”

  “Final payment. The two of them, Chapman and Kohler, insisted.”

  “Said you took a down payment to go after Leather Apron for the senator,” Philo near whispered.

  Ransom gritted his teeth. “I told you what happened, Christian, and Jane was in danger. I had no choice.”

  “Well, now, it would appear you are paid in full and the senator is happy, and Kohler is the richer for it, as are you.”

  “And you?” asked Alastair.

  Fenger shook his head. “Not a dime.”

  “You have the joy of a clean conscious, then.”

  “Not that it will save me from my debts.”

  Ransom threw the bundle back at Fenger. “You told Kohler about Audra, didn’t you?”

  Fenger lifted the bundle and shook it at Ransom. “I have no idea in hell how that got out! Do you?” The accusation hung in the air.

  Again the bundle was thrown to Ransom.

  “Build that damn wing you want!” Ransom threw the money back at him.

  “Give it to Jane for her plans for the homeless children!” shouted Fenger, tossing the stack of bills back.

  “Are the two of you blind?” asked Philo. “Don’t you see? This is Kohler’s idea, all of it!”

  “What’re you talking about?” asked Fenger.

  “Giving you, Christian, blood money to give to you, Alastair!” Philo shouted. “He wants to drive a wedge between you, a permanent one. And I am left to watch this pissing contest!”

  “What’re you suggesting, Philo?” Ransom’s nostrils flared.

  “I know he gave you the impression that Chapman was running things, but no, Nathan is and has been from the start.”

  “You mean he started this whole thing with Chapman in motion?” asked Fenger.

  “When have you ever known Kohler to relinquish control? Either of you?”

  Christian and Alastair looked across the chasm that Kohler had created between them. Fenger finally said, “Philo’s right. Giving this money to me to deliver to you…it’s his design.”

  Alastair agreed. “Part of his goal from the outset.”

  Philo Keane felt as if he could breathe again. “That sounds a proper end to it—give the money to the fund Jane Francis has established for the homeless.”

  “Aye, a fitting end to it,” Alastair poured himself another cup of tea, then raised his cup, and all three toasted this conclusion. Then Ransom asked, “Did they get the right murderous children? Tell me they didn’t get it wrong this time.”

  “They were caught while sleeping, and their own knives were used on them,” explained Christian.

  “They were bred to it like animals by their own parents,” said Philo.

  Fenger added, “They were children turned into Frankenstein monsters.”

  “What justice is there in this end?” asked Ransom.

  “Those children would’ve continued on, butchering other children, Rance—we all know that.” Philo sipped the last of his spiked tea.

  “They damn near killed you, Alastair,” added Christian.

  “Still…I was out there at those stables. I saw the kind of justice Chapman and Kohler meted out on Bloody Mary, an insane woman, and a complete other innocent man. I can’t say any of this sits well with me.”

  “Still, you’ve got to take the money, Alastair.” Fenger stood to leave.

  “What’re you now, Christian? Nathan’s errand boy?”

  Philo leapt to his feet and placed a firm hand against Alastair’s chest, trying to calm him
. “You two are allowing Kohler to win if you end like this.”

  Christian stopped at the door and looked deep into Ransom’s eyes. “Until you lay the man low, Alastair, we all have him as a cross to bear, and we all have to work with him.”

  “That’s it, isn’t it, Christian? He holds your notes—bought up all your debts, hasn’t he? Makes a mockery of your office as impartial coroner.”

  Christian’s jaw twitched with the anger of this kind of information being shouted to the world where he stood at the open door. The two old friends held one another in a grim stare.

  Philo determined to end this before more was said. He joined Christian at his side, shook Alastair’s hand, and gave him a brief hug. “Don’t you be led by Kohler, either of you! You are both better than that. Now we’re going, Rance, and…and well…don’t be a stranger. Come round to the studio, both of you. I have some of that whiskey left.”

  Ransom nodded and relaxed, bidding them good-bye and raising the money bundle overhead. He knew why Kohler had gotten his two best friends to bring the cash. Anyone else and he’d have shot them. This way, at some future date, Nathan Kohler might be able to use this blood money against him. He imagined that one of Nathan’s spies was not too far from his door, closely watching everything. Unless he missed his guess, it’d be Henry Bosch.

  A week later

  More time had passed and Chicago returned to what most people termed “normal” and all commerce doubled and quadrupled daily, prices skyrocketing, and the homeless population, both adult and child, only increased, putting an even greater strain on the city shelters and jails. No one questioned the mystery of where Jane Francis’s funds, or those of her brother, Dr. Tewes, had come from, and when asked, each was quick to reply, “A donor whose greatest wish was to remain anonymous.”

  Other than a program begun by a Dr. Jane Francis to find a home for every parentless child, and a roof for every homeless child, little had changed, despite the sheer terror of a story that was so horrendous that it would never see full play in the mainstream press. Word on the street had it that Inspector Alastair Ransom, with help from the deceased Jed Logan, and a heroic Ken Behan, had pretty much single-handedly taken on the entire family of beasts in their own lair and had wiped them out, one and all.