On a Night Black

by Cherie Mitchell

  “Are we having fun?” The Knave smiled his detestable smile as Elliot came to a standstill near Big Bertha’s empty chair.

  “If by ‘we’ you mean me and you, I would prefer it if you didn’t group us together. We are nothing alike.”

  “Tsk, tsk. You are in an intolerable mood today. The carnival and freak show is supposed to lift one’s mood rather than depress it, even if it’s only because you’re glad you’re not one of the exhibits yourself.”

  “It’s difficult to enjoy myself when I know a monster is prowling through the crowd.”

  “He’s a quick and witty one,” the Knave muttered softly, as if he were talking to himself. “No wonder she is so taken with him.”

  Elliot naturally assumed he was talking about Ramona, especially given how his conversation with this man at the wine bar in 2020 had ended. “I warned you to stay away from Ramona and I meant what I said.”

  The Knave widened his eyes in mock consternation. “Ramona? I wasn’t aware we were talking about the divine Ramona.”

  “Don’t assume you know anything about my life.”

  The Knave gave a low chuckle. “It’s probably unwise to assume that I don’t.”

  The Knave’s ridiculous riddles were infuriating. Elliot tapped his foot impatiently. “How long do you plan to stay? The exhibition hall closes in an hour.”

  The Knave lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Until I no longer gain any enjoyment from the attractions on offer.” His eyes slid away from Elliot to follow the mincing walk of a brash young woman wearing a corset that pulled her waist in to an extraordinarily tiny size and thrust her breasts into prominence. “Or should I say, until I no longer gain any pleasure from the multiple and ample titbits on display.”

  His taunting words were wearing thin. “Lay down your hand. You can’t win. You can’t ever win.”

  “Oh?” The Knave quirked a sarcastic eyebrow. “And why is that? Please don’t bore me by telling me it’s because of something as droll as good always triumphs over evil. I have just as much opportunity to win this game as you do, Elliot Cinder.”

  “Hey Mister.” A young boy of perhaps ten or eleven with a pair of braces holding his pants up and a large scab on his bare knee pulled at Elliot’s sleeve, distracting him for a vital few moments. “Can ya tell me where the mermaid is? The buxom filly with the fish’s tail.”

  Silently cursing his yellow badge and wondering if Jerome had given him the position of staff as a prank knowing full well that people would approach him all through the day, Elliot swung around to point in the direction of the aquarium and the girl wearing the scaly tail. “Keep walking that way and you’ll find it.” The boy sauntered off and Elliot turned back to the Knave, only to find him gone. The crowd had oozed into the gap where he’d stood just seconds before and his bobbing black hat was nowhere to be seen.

  With a growing feeling of dread, Elliot charged through the pulsing ebb and flow of the crowd, looking around frantically, but he could not glimpse of the Knave. Had he purposely made use of Elliot’s distraction to hide himself again? He was a man used to making the most of a random chance and from his taunts, it was clear that he knew Elliot was here today for him alone.

  He hurried back to the entrance doors, ducking and diving through the crowd, and arrived there breathless. There were less people here, less of a shove and less of a crush, but still there was no sign of the Knave. Had he left the hall already? Elliot pressed up against the ticket office and peered through the small, square opening at the bored man sitting on a stool inside. “I’m looking for a tall man in a black hat and overcoat. Did you see him leave?”

  The man snorted. “You’ve just described every man here. Which one do you want? I just saw several go thatta way, thatta way, and thatta way.” He pointed wildly in all directions, amusing himself with his own bland wit, and Elliot turned away in disgust. He hurried past the dusty door that led to Jerome’s office and stepped outside into the cold, crisp air. Acting on a useless hunch, he turned left and ran down to the corner of the Olympia building. The Knave wasn’t there. He spun around and hurried back past the entrance doors again, stopping when he heard a woman’s giggle. Instinctively, he stepped back into the shadow of one of the many carriages parked by the curb just as the Knave walked out of the Olympia in the company of two young ladies, each dressed in the style of the mid-to-upper classes.

  “Yes, you can walk us home.” One of the girls tipped her head coquettishly to one side and gazed up at the Knave while her companion stood back, her cross little face pinched with annoyance.

  “Annabel! No! Papa will be furious when he finds out.”

  The first girl tossed her curls knowingly, preening and glowing under the Knave’s appreciative gaze. “Papa won’t find out Marigold, not unless you tell him. There is nothing wrong with us allowing this nice gentleman to escort us home.”

  “I don’t like this. We should go.” Annabel, far plainer and far less animated than Marigold, tugged at her sister’s arm. “We told Mama we wouldn’t be late.”

  Marigold wrenched her arm away. She fluttered her eyelashes provocatively and smiled coyly into the Knave’s sly grin, a young woman clearly practicing her newly discovered charms. “Thank you, sir. We will accept your kind offer. It isn’t safe for ladies to walk these streets alone after the horrors of recent times.”

  Elliot, listening to the conversation from his hiding place, felt a hard knot of bitterness form in his gut. Had his Annie believed the Knave to be a gentleman too, just as Marigold had judged him to be? Had Annie thought of him as a guardian or did he kill her before she had a chance to make an opinion? He curled his hands into fists and pressed his nails into his flesh, fighting the urge to burst out of hiding and confront the Knave. No, instead he would follow him and make sure the girls made their way home unharmed.

  The Knave offered his arm to each of the young women. Marigold took it eagerly while Annabel was far more reluctant and required a sharp prod in the ribs from her sister before she laid her own gloved hand on his arm. They set off down the street and Elliot watched them go, battling a deep sense of loss. Those two young women leaving the delights of the carnival could have been his own sisters, Julia and Charlotte, if that long ago tragedy had presented an entirely different result and they’d had the chance to grow into young adulthood. He would be the man waiting outside now to escort them home if that was the case. He would never have allowed her sisters to venture out without him, not until they were safely married and had a husband to protect them.

  He waited until the trio had walked some distance away before beginning to follow them. Marigold was still chattering away gaily, blithely unaware of how much danger she had just placed herself and Annabel in. The Knave’s voice was a deep contrast to Marigold’s singsong chatter, but Elliot could hear nothing of the conversation from where he was.

  The noise and hum of the Olympia fell away behind them as the Knave led the girls deep into the heart of inner London. For now, he was keeping to the main routes and the busier streets but Elliot was acutely aware that he might steer the girls down a side street at any time. And then what? Would he separate the girls and whisk one away to make it easier to perform his foul deeds? He was a man who liked to operate one-on-one and two girls would be nothing but a hindrance.

  Marigold’s light laughter floated back to reach Elliot’s ears as the Knave halted on a street corner, waiting for a safe break between the rush of horse carriages before hurrying the girls across the road. He was at his courteous, most charming best, but a man with such a black and savage heart couldn’t hide behind the false innocence of a sheep’s fleece forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Knave

  Elliot Cinder wasn’t as smart as he imagined himself to be if he genuinely thought he’d gone unnoticed. The Knave casually turned his head as Marigold chattered idiotically on, twisting his neck just enough so he could check to see if Elliot was still prowling along behind them. He’d seen
the foolish man as soon as he stepped out of the Olympia with Marigold and Annabel, seen him before he attempted to hide himself behind the carriage and seen him again as soon as he started to follow them. Elliot needed to improve his technique dramatically if he ever hoped to win this game.

  Marigold’s high voice was beginning to grate. She hadn’t stopped talking since the moment he met the sisters and she didn’t seem to care if she received a reply or not. On the other hand, Annabel plodded along silently and didn’t attempt to hide her discomfort. Her hand was barely touching his arm and she made sure to keep her body at some distance from his. Marigold, flirtatious and brazen, had allowed her hip to brush against his several times now and her hand gripped his arm as if it were a life ring. If Elliot wasn’t behind him now and if he was in the mood to quench his desire, he would choose Annabel rather than the loud and talkative Marigold. The quiet ones were so much easier to subdue.

  “Oh sir! You very nearly missed our street.” Marigold giggled as she pulled on his arm while Annabel hurried removed her hand from his other arm with a perceptible sigh of relief.

  “Thank you,” Annabel said tersely. “We can find our own way from here.”

  “Annabel! Don’t be so rude! We should invite this kind gentleman in for some refreshments to thank him for his trouble,” Marigold scolded.

  Annabel returned the Knave’s smile with cold eyes and a grim, unsmiling mouth. “I’m sure he doesn’t expect that. Anyway, we don’t even know his name.”

  The Knave gently removed Marigold’s hand from his arm and politely bowed his head in Annabel’s direction. “Jack Ripley at your service, ma’am.”

  Annabel sniffed, not impressed. “We should go. Come on, Marigold. We don’t want Mama to worry.”

  Marigold was still enjoying her flirtation and in no hurry to leave it behind. She fluttered her eyelashes again as she flicked her small, pink tongue across her lower lip. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ripley.”

  Annabel had reached the end of her patience. She grabbed Marigold’s hand and hauled her away, ignoring the other girl’s protests and the ineffective digging in of her heels on the cobblestones. “We’re going home. Goodbye, Mr. Ripley. We don’t need any more of your help.”

  The Knave had already turned away, his brief interest in the girls now evaporated and gone. That simpering Marigold in particular had irritated him to his back teeth. Elliot was still behind him, lurking further down the street and apparently unaware he’d been seen. This new game would be much more fun than the one he’d just abandoned. The Knave moved suddenly, ducking down a nearby alleyway without looking back, his coat tails flying behind his determined, hurried strides. All he needed was for Elliot to keep following him and the merry chase could begin.

  He waited at the other end of the alleyway for just long enough to make sure that Elliot had followed before hurrying on. He’d been surprised to see the man at the carnival but of course he hadn’t let on. He’d always known he would come but he hadn’t expected him to be here just yet. Not that it mattered – now was as good a time as any. The part that amused him the most was that both the corporation and Elliot still imagined they had the upper hand. Fools, all of them fools.

  He swerved suddenly, doubling back for the shortest distance before diving down yet another alleyway. Elliot had no idea that he was leading him to within shouting distance of his own dear Annie and he did not intend to reveal her presence to him. Not yet. A good conjurer kept his best trick up his sleeve until the last moment, spinning the audience along in order to get the biggest reaction. He could’ve shown those exhibitors at the freak show a thing or two but why bother? He preferred to get his kicks in other ways. He’d succeeded in doing just that only last night but he doubted whether the body had been discovered yet. He’d learned plenty from his stint as the Whitechapel Murderer, learned to cover his tracks and to keep his attacks less bloody and messy. The thrill wasn’t quite the same but the outcome was, and who didn’t enjoy a splendid outcome?

  He heard Elliot stumble over a loose cobblestone behind him but he didn’t turn back to look. Let the man stumble and fall as much as possible. He should expect nothing less if he wanted to compete in this entertaining frolic. Playing games was no fun unless there were disadvantages involved and winning didn’t hold the same thrall unless there were challenges to face along the way.

  They were only a block away from the house where he’d hidden Annie now. He grinned to himself, imagining the look of fear on her face when he stepped through the door, unannounced and unexpected. He liked to keep the girl on her toes with both threats and kindness. She was well aware that she needed him – where else would she go if it wasn’t for him and his generous provision of shelter and food? She knew her family had now left London, destined for farm work outside the city, and she had no idea how to contact them. They were devastated following her death, unable to believe that their golden-haired Annie was gone forever and naturally, they had no idea that the Knave had brought her back. He’d called in a favour with an old friend to arrange the job offer and the family had gone without looking back, anxious to put London and all its bad memories behind them.

  Annie should nearly be finished her work on the time machine now. The instructions weren’t all that complicated and the repairs were labour intensive rather than complex. As soon as it was done, he would leave this filthy era behind and jump forward to a time where more opportunities lay at a man’s feet. His departure would catch the corporation unawares too, and he liked knowing that he was one step ahead of them.

  He had met several of the corporation’s members now, or at least interacted with them on some level or another without their knowledge. It amused him to think that many of them were unaware that they’d glanced in his direction, waited for him to cross in front of them at the traffic lights, or murmured their thanks as he held a door open for them. He was proud of his wily ability to be everywhere and nowhere, and he was even prouder of his talents of camouflage and disguise.

  Yes, he would travel back to 2020 as soon as possible. He had other chores to deal with there and the little murder spree he’d planned here could wait until those chores were dealt with. Lani was a loose cannon and he didn’t trust her. She was the sort of woman who, now that she’d betrayed the corporation and given him access to the time machine, would be wracked with guilt until she confessed her misdemeanours. He’d enjoyed wooing her, enjoyed seducing her, enjoyed convincing her to help him, but she was no longer useful to him. She was now a danger that he neither needed nor wanted. She knew too much.

  Elliot was still behind him, diligently dogging his footsteps, but the Knave was suddenly bored with the entire game. He broke into a run now, veering around another corner before bursting through the door of the house where Annie laboured over the time machine. He slammed the door behind him, knowing that Elliot had no chance of finding him here, and gave the cowering Annie a wicked smile. “Hello again, my dear.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  He was gone. Elliot was sure he’d seen the Knave run beneath this lichen-covered archway and into this cramped street but the lane was empty of movement and no sign of life stirred. There wasn’t even a breeze to ruffle his hair or tug at his clothes. Elliot was torn, annoyed at himself for losing the scoundrel but quietly pleased that their aimless chase was over. That despicable man was worth no more of his time today.

  He walked back through the archway and headed back the way he’d come, more than ready to return to Darcy’s house and put the Knave out of his mind for now. He marched quickly along, recalling what Hortense had said earlier. Does he know about my role in this? How could Hortense, a woman who should’ve been dead by now, be involved? Curiosity hastened his steps and he was soon back at Darcy’s smart and well-kept house in Lambeth, armed with yet more of his never-ending questions.

  Happily enough, both Darcy and Hortense were in the mood to talk. Darcy left his tinkering and the trio again adjourned to the parlour
where Elliot filled them in on what he’d seen at the freak show. Hortense gave Darcy an encouraging smile. “That sounds like fun. We should go. I’d like to see the tiny man and his little doll of a wife.”

  “We’ll see, we’ll see.” Darcy clearly didn’t share his house guest’s enthusiasm for such an outing. He gazed solemnly at Elliot from beneath lowered brows. “We have another errand for you.”

  “I told you I lost the Knave in the network of alleyways.”

  “No, this is nothing to do with tracking the Knave through the current period of time. Hortense, would you like to explain?” He sat back in his chair and lowered his hands into his lap, his own input into the conversation apparently done with for now.

  “Is this about your involvement with the corporation and the Knave operation, Hortense?” He failed to see what role she could possibly play, especially as women knew their place in this Victorian world, but he was certainly interested to find out.

  She glanced at Darcy but he remained silent and grim-faced. She resettled her focus on Elliot. “I can see by your expression that you can’t think of anywhere that I might fit into all of this. Let me start by saying that I’m older than I look.”

  Elliot immediately did the gentlemanly thing and protested, chivalrously telling Hortense she looked young and attractive and that he certainly hadn’t attached any years to her that couldn’t possibly belong to her.

  “Thank you, Elliot, but your compliments really aren’t necessary. I’m confident enough in myself not to need them but I do appreciate your good intentions.” She gave him a brief smile and continued. “Prior to my first death in a year far previous to this one, I took a young Jack Ripley in when he had nowhere else to go.”