by Barry Reese
Gravedigger grunted. “How many people are downstairs?”
“Let’s see… There’s a strange old woman named Myrtle – who might actually be a man in drag – and then there’s a lawyer named Jenkins; a butler named Sebastian; and a trio of other relatives.” She named them, making sure to remark on how handsome Cedric was.
“Don’t get distracted,” Gravedigger warned. “Have you seen anything unusual?”
“You mean besides the spooky house, a guy in drag and the fact that the Headless Horseman is buried outside? Not a thing.”
“The Headless Horseman?”
“Yep. Buried outside in the cemetery. Unmarked grave.” Li snapped her fingers. “Oh! And according to Myrtle, old Maxwell was involved with an occult group called the Sons or Daughters of Malfeasance.”
“You don’t remember if they were called the Sons or Daughters?”
“No, that IS their name. Sons or Daughters.”
Gravedigger shook her head in amazement. “I might have heard of them… supposedly they could shift their gender, amongst other things.” She turned back to the window but stopped when Li touched her arm. “Where are you going?”
“Exploring. I want you to go downstairs and get to know these people. Maxwell Hendry’s name was in Goldstein’s files, along with a notation that he was a dangerous person. If Josef thought he was worth keeping an eye on, that makes me really curious about what all the mystery surrounding his will is really about.”
Li nodded, then added, “Are you okay, though? It’s your first time out and about since… the explosion at Meeks’”
Gravedigger pulled away, her voice going icy cold. “I’m fine. Now go do your job, please.”
Li watched her friend vanish out the window. After a brief sigh, she did as Charity ordered.
It was time to go to work.
Chapter III: A Legacy of Evil
Cedric grinned when Li stepped back into the parlor. He rose from his seat and moved to join her. “You found your way back! I’m impressed. I got lost twice the first time I tried to navigate my way through this darkened maze!”
Li allowed Cedric to guide her over to the fireplace, where two seats were nestled close together. There was no sign of Myrtle but she noticed that Marlowe was still playing cards while Koepp was wandering around the room, lifting up lamps and other bits of furniture, staring at them as if he were appraising their worth.
Cedric confirmed that by whispering, “Baldy there is here for the money and nothing else. He’s a cold one.”
“And what are you here for, if not the money?”
“I’d like to reestablish the Hendry name in the business world,” he said, settling back into his chair. He crossed his legs and studied Li with obvious interest. “There was a time when you couldn’t go more than five feet in Sovereign without seeing the Hendry logo plastered on everything from matchbook covers to billboards. But Maxwell let it all go to seed. The family’s wealth is still immense but I want to restore it to prominence, as well.”
“You have your own business, don’t you?”
“I do. We manufacture refrigerator parts. But I want to go far beyond that.” Cedric smiled and Li recognized his type: upwardly mobile, with the view that everyone was just part of the ladder he was climbing. She knew what would happen if she ended up in bed with him – he’d ensure his own pleasure, not hers. And then she’d never hear from him again.
“May I ask what you do?” Cedric pressed.
“I’m a daredevil adventurer in service to a masked vigilante.”
Cedric’s bark of laughter drew a surprised glance from Koepp and a deep frown from Marlowe. “You are a hoot!” he exclaimed. “Let me guess which one… masked, eh? I bet you work with The Darkling. Am I right?”
“I really can’t say,” Li answered softly. “I took an oath.”
Cedric reached out and patted her leg just above the knee. “A daredevil,” he said, shaking his head. “I like that in a woman.”
Li stood up, eliciting a look of disappointment from Cedric. “I’ll be back,” she said. “I’d like to get to know the rest of our family, if I could.” Before Cedric could respond, Li had sat herself down across from Marlowe.
The sour-faced man looked up from his game of solitaire. “Only a few more hours,” he said.
“Oh, I know!” Li leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “Are you excited?”
Marlowe tugged at his moustache. “I don’t get excited.”
“Too bad for your wife.”
“Excuse me?” he asked, looking shocked.
Li decided not to pursue her little joke. “Well, I’m thrilled. It’s so great to not only be a part of this… but to meet new members of my family!”
“Yes. It is… most interesting.”
“Married? Any kids?”
Marlowe harrumphed and put down the card he had been waiting to play. “No and no.”
Li nodded. “What are you going to do with your share of the loot?”
“The estate,” Marlowe corrected, “Is quite substantial from what I have been told. But seeing it split five ways might reduce it quite a bit. Since I don’t have any ideas about Maxwell’s exact worth, it’s difficult to project my future plans.”
Li tapped her chin. “You’re lying.”
“What? How dare you--!”
“I just mean that you strike me as a very careful, methodical person. Heck, you’ve been contemplating where to put that one card since I first arrived! And you just said you’re not the excitable type… so you wouldn’t go to something like this without having fully thought out all the angles.”
Marlowe said nothing for a moment. When he did speak, his tone had softened somewhat and he seemed to view her through new eyes. “For a woman, you’re very clever. Yes, I have plans for my part of the fortune. Over the years, I’ve become quite the gambler. It’s my one vice and I like to study the odds long and hard before I place my bet. Sometimes I win… and sometimes I lose. Unfortunately, I’ve had more of the latter of late.”
“You’d pay off some debts, you mean?”
“Yes. And then I’d translate what I had left into even greater wealth!” Marlowe confidentially lowered his voice. “I know of a sure thing, you see.”
Li looked impressed. Inside, she was anything but. So far, she knew that Cedric wanted to become a famous business leader and Marlowe needed a quick influx of cash to handle his gambling debts. That meant one or both might be willing to bump off the competition… but there was no indication that they had or would.
Li excused herself from the conversation without much effort, since Marlowe was keen to get back to his game. The last man in the room was Koepp, who had by this time moved over to an antique vase that rested on a pedestal just inside the doorway.
“Is that worth much?”
Koepp didn’t bother looking in her direction. “Why do you ask? Planning to steal it?”
Li’s acting skills weren’t quite good enough to hide her anger. “I wouldn’t want to horn in on your action. You’ve been casing the place for hours!”
Koepp turned, a smug look on his face. His hairless skull shone in the firelight. “I happen to be an art appraiser.”
“I thought you were just money hungry.”
“No. That would describe the rest of you, I would think.” Koepp leaned closer. “Where I come from, people like you knew their place. And it wasn’t in the house.”
“What do you mean?” Li asked, though she knew very well what he was implying.
“I mean that all families have a chink or a nigger in the woodpile but usually they stay out in the servants’ quarters.”
What happened next was such a blur that neither Cedric nor Marlowe truly witnessed it. Li’s fist shot forward, slamming into Koepp’s nose. The bald man fell back, knocking the vase to the floor, where it shattered into a dozen ceramic shards. Blood streamed from Koepp’s wounded proboscis and he cupped it with his hands.
“You little whore!” he sh
outed. He drew his own hand back, intending to slap her across the face, but Cedric caught his elbow and held it firm.
“That’s enough!” Cedric shouted. Glaring at Marlowe, he added, “I don’t know what you said to provoke her but I have no doubt that you were a cad. Apologize.”
“Never! Unhand me!”
Cedric drew even closer and his expression became one of tremendous threat. “I’d think about that if I were you.”
Koepp withered under the force of the other man’s presence. In a low voice, he said, “I apologize for offending you, Miss Yuchun.”
Li was rubbing her injured knuckles but she managed to nod her head in acceptance.
Cedric shoved Koepp away, adding, “Maybe you should wait in your room until the lawyer calls for us.”
Koepp exited the room, still holding his bleeding nose. The look he shot Li was one that promised vengeance.
“You’d better stay close to me,” Cedric warned. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to frighten you again. May I ask what he said--?”
“I’d rather not get into it.”
“Of course.” Cedric kindly led her back to the seat next to the fireplace. “There’s a wonderfully stocked bar in the corner. Can I get you something?”
Li’s smile returned. Her estimation of Cedric had gone up slightly since his gallant response so she didn’t see how a drink could hurt. “I’d love one. Thank you.”
***
Gravedigger felt like she was at home, wandering through the overgrown cemetery. In just a few months, she’d killed more than her fair share of criminals… already, her name was becoming a common one on the lips of the underworld’s major figures. Unlike Doc Daye or Lazarus Gray, she wasn’t going to throw the various mob bosses into jail… she was putting them six feet under.
Of course, it had almost been the other way around when Meeks’ apartment had exploded. She and The Peregrine had been thrown nearly half a block by the force of the portal’s closing. When Charity had woken up, her uniform had been in tatters and her left arm had been broken in a half dozen places.
Max had been even worse, bleeding from a number of shrapnel-induced wounds. The police and fire department were both arriving and she’d been able to drag him to a nearby alleyway, where she had waited for Mitchell to pick them both up.
The authorities were uncertain as to the cause of the explosion but in the end, they didn’t care to pursue the matter. To them, all that mattered was that Meeks was dead. The museum had been upset about the loss of its treasure, of course, but all in all, it seemed to all be resolved.
Gravedigger’s recovery had been rapid – far more than it should have been. She had done all she could to help Max but in the end, he had returned to Atlanta to recuperate.
The experience had unnerved Li more than it had Charity. She and Mitchell both thought that Charity should take some time off – that she was moving so quickly that they feared she might still be in shock.
They didn’t understand, though. She had no time to waste – the clock was ticking, every day bringing her closer to Judgment.
Something had tickled in the back of her brain when she’d first seen this cemetery and she knew that it was important to investigate it. Li would be fine, she reasoned – the girl could certainly maintain her composure no matter what happened.
In the center of the graveyard was a gnarled oak tree, one that immediately caught her interest. The branches leaned downward, as if they were anxious to seize any unwary soul that ventured too close. The base of the tree was home to a massive hole that seemed to lead into the labyrinthine root system. Gravedigger paused near it and stared into the stygian blackness beneath the tree… Something was wrong here but she didn’t know for certain what it was.
The sky illuminated for a moment as a jagged arc of lightning cut across it. Gravedigger realized then what was bothering her about the hole and the roots that formed a canopy around it – the entire area seemed to be pulsing… no, breathing, she thought.
A jumble of thoughts passed through her mind, then. About Maxwell’s links to the occult, to what Li had told her about the Headless Horseman and about things she’d read in Josef’s library. Since his death, she’d made a point of reading through everything he’d left behind… and there were several references to the Horseman legend in Sovereign.
Some said that the headless killer was no mere specter. They said that he did the bidding of some higher power – frequently thought to be the devil, of course, but not necessarily. Whoever summoned him needed to first perform a blood sacrifice, which would then give him control over the Horseman.
Gravedigger looked back at Hendry Hall, which stood, angry and frightening, in the distance. Mortimer Quinn, who had spent some time in Sovereign in the late 18th century, had written the book that dealt with the Horseman legend most significantly. He did mention a cult that had lurked in Sovereign around that time but he hadn’t named them… Could they have been the Sons or Daughters of Malfeasance?
It was less than an hour before the reading of the will… and Gravedigger felt certain that something terrible was going to happen. She took one step towards the house when she became aware of movement to her left.
Spinning around, Gravedigger took an impact directly to the forehead. She fell back, the world suddenly going black. She had been so wrapped up in thought that she’d missed the signs of danger… and now, she realized, there would be no second chance.
A figure stood over her, a heavy log held in their strong hands. Myrtle looked back at the tree and then turned back to the masked woman at her feet.
“Not much longer,” she hissed. “It’s almost time for the Horseman to ride once more.”
***
Charity woke up with her arms and legs tightly bound to a chair. She was inside a small room, sparsely furnished. There were several bookcases filled with ancient tomes and a painting of Maxwell Hendry that dominated the nearest wall. There was one door that led out of the room and she could hear voices on the other side – including Li’s. The words were muffled enough that she couldn’t understand what they were saying.
Fumbling about with her fingers, she hoped to reach one of her many weapons – but they were all missing.
Movement from behind her made her pause.
Myrtle moved into view, looking very mannish in slacks and a gossamer blouse. She looked into Gravedigger’s face, which was still hidden by her mask. “Please tell me who you are.”
“Where are my weapons?”
Myrtle gestured to the farthest bookshelf. Sitting on top of it was Charity’s arsenal. “You were very well armed. Expecting trouble, were we?”
“I like to be prepared.”
“Always a good idea.” Myrtle pulled up a chair and sat down in it backwards, so that her arms crossed over the back of the seat. “Again: who are you?”
“I’m called Gravedigger.”
“The vigilante? I’ve heard of you.” Myrtle clucked her tongue. “I pictured you… differently. Taller. More dangerous. Masculine.”
“Sorry I disappointed you.” Gravedigger tilted her head and her voice took on a curious note. “So why did you fake your death?”
Myrtle looked surprised. “What do you mean?”
“You’re one of them, right? The Sons or Daughters? You can shift your gender from one to the other – but not very well, from the looks of it.”
Myrtle stood up, looking angry. Her face shifted, becoming even less feminine. The skin of her face became wrinkled, hanging loosely around the jowls. Her breasts, barely there to begin with, took on a different shape, becoming like those of an old flabby man. “You’re a little bitch,” Maxwell Hendry hissed.
“Takes one to know one.”
Maxwell glanced towards the door. “I’m getting old… death is just around the corner, unless I can barter for more years. And yes, I’m one of the Sons or Daughters of Malfeasance. My ancestors founded this city and bathed its ground in the blood of virgins. We had hoped to
gain immortality but it didn’t come unconditionally. Our life spans were extended but there were so many things we had to do in order to protect our youth… many of my brothers or sisters failed. They died. Now I’m the only one of my generation remaining! And the younglings think me addled… weak! But I’ll show them. I’m going to reawaken our warrior and he’ll do the hard work for me. He’ll make me young again.”
Gravedigger sighed, having had the matter settled for her. She’d held out hope that there would be some rational explanation for all this deceit. But it was simply another case of an insane megalomaniac twisting others for their benefit.
“What’s going on in the next room?” Charity asked, grateful that Maxwell couldn’t see what was going on behind her back. With deft movements, Charity was busily freeing herself of the bonds that held her in place. It was a skill that had been improved by the trace memories of past Gravediggers but she had already been quite adept at small bits of escape artistry. It came in handy during her days as a thief.
“It’s almost time for the reading of the will,” Maxwell replied. His face and body were shifting again, reverting back into Myrtle’s form. “I’ve performed the ritual to summon the Headless Horseman but in order to bind him fully to my will, I have to sacrifice blood of my blood… my relatives have to die!”
“And then?”
“Then there are things that the Horseman can do to revive my youth, of course!” Myrtle bowed low. “I’m afraid I have to go, dear. I need to be present when the Horseman arrives – otherwise, he’ll be free to roam about on his own accord… and trust me, no one wants that.”
Gravedigger paused in her escape attempt, lest Myrtle see her furtive movements. The gender-swapping villain merely smiled and said, “And now it’s time to end your life, I’m afraid.” She stepped over to a small vent and removed the small grating. Inside was a nozzle that she directed into the room and activated by a twist of a dial. “Poisonous gas,” she explained, chuckling. “You’ll be dead within minutes. Enjoy what’s left of your life.”
