Blood Tribute (The Lucas Gedge Thrillers Book 1) (22 page)

‘I think the clients have taken to their heels,’ said Darius. ‘I hope Monsieur Rondeau is alright upstairs.’

‘And Polly?’

Darius shrugged.

Gedge called out to Naseby.

‘You might as well give up. You’re the last one left. What can you hope to do?’

‘A strange thing to say, Gedge. Surely you have been putting all your efforts into bringing this young thing to safety. Can you not see that I can end her life in an instant? You and your friends will back off and allow me to pass, otherwise that is exactly what I will do. I may release her later if it represents no threat to me.’

Hannah looked both terrified and strangely unaware of what was happening.

‘You won’t be leaving here, Naseby. You don’t really think I’ll allow a venal, corrupt swine like you to get away, do you? Just release my daughter.’

‘Spare me the holier-than-thou speeches, Gedge. Ackerman was a bastard, but he was right about one thing. It’s every man for himself, these days. Get what you can, when you can. Even the highest in society know that. The ones who have just run out of here with their tails between their legs. You should have grabbed one or two of them. Now that would have made a story for the papers. Or maybe not, seeing as how their editors are involved as well. You do-gooders will never understand what goes on.’

Then another voice rang out. Female. Loud and clear.

‘Let her go!’

It was Polly. She had made her way to the opposite side of the room and had her own revolver aimed at Naseby’s head. For the first time, he looked worried, his eyes fitting between her gun and Darius’s crossbow. He started to back away, dragging Hannah with him.

At this, Gedge noticed a change in Hannah. Had she suddenly realised what was happening? She saw Gedge, and her eyes flashed in acknowledgement. She raised her head slightly, opened her mouth, and bit down hard on Naseby’s hand. He let out a high-pitched shriek, but even before he’d had time to finish it, Gedge had fired.

The bullet entered the centre of Naseby’s forehead. He released his grip on Hannah, and, with a look of surprise, sank to the ground, dead.

Gedge ran to his daughter and she fell into his arms. As he held her limp body, recognition spread across her face and the tears began to flow.

Polly dropped to her knees beside him. ‘Is she okay?’

Gedge stroked Hannah’s hair. ‘She’s been through hell, but she’s a fighter. She’ll get over this. I’ll make sure of it.’ Hannah nuzzled closer to him, and as she did so, Gedge felt a pulse of joy as he noticed that after all she’d been through, she was still wearing the St Christopher, the mirror-image of his own.

Gedge looked up at Polly. ‘Where are Garland and the police? They should be here by now. You’d better make sure your father’s alright, upstairs. But be careful. Darius, can you check the other girls?’

‘Leave it to me.’ The Parthian shepherded the girls into several of the boxes so that they could sit down and recover.

C
lutching her revolver
, Polly climbed over the partition and left the chamber. She scanned along the two rows of cells. Nobody could be seen, so she ran along to the cell where Gedge had tied the girl up. She wasn’t there. The cloth he had used to bind her lay on the floor. Either she had freed herself, which Polly doubted, or somebody fleeing from the scene of the auction had let her go. She climbed the stairs two at a time.

At the top, a young man, perhaps twenty-five years old and wearing an expensive fur coat, lay in a pool of blood in the centre of the room. His top hat lay a few feet away. Slumped beside the door leading to the waste ground outside was Rondeau. The front of his coat was soaked with blood. He seemed to be trying to say something to her. His lips moved, but little sound came out.

She ran to him and looked with horror at his injuries. He had been stabbed several times in the chest and stomach, and he was losing blood fast. He made jerky beckoning movements with his hands, and she bent close to his mouth.

‘Polly. My dear. I tried… tried to stop them. Too many… They came all at once… Overpowered. Knocked me over. Then a last one. He had a… girl with him. Told him to stop. Came at me. I fired. He went over. There… Did not see… Girl had a knife. Went berserk. Cutting, stabbing. Left after the others.’

‘I’ll find her. And the rest. But first we must get you looked at, urgently.’

‘No. Too late. This is it. End of my story. I won’t leave here alive. Polly… My love.’

‘No! That can’t happen. You can’t die, Claude!’

He raised his right hand, soaked in blood, up to her head. He gently took hold of a lock of her auburn hair.

‘You are my girl, Polly. You must carry on. Help Lucas. He is the one, you know that. You know what to do. You will work out how to use my contacts. The network.’

He paused, riding another surge of pain.

‘And… As we thought, the clients, they… some of them… are the highest in society. The professions, our institutions. They are all in it. Must be exposed!’

His face contorted with agony and his eyes locked with Polly’s.

She realised, with an icy certainty, that he didn’t have long.

But there was something else he needed to say.

She brought her ear up close to his mouth.

G
edge had carried
Hannah up the stairs, and was followed by a ragtag gaggle of young women, martialled by Darius. Gedge’s mouth dropped open as he saw the blood-soaked room. The old man, who in a few days had become a trusted mentor and friend, lying in the arms of his young ward, who was softly sobbing.

Gedge set Hannah down on a chair. With Darius and the other girls crowding round, he knelt down beside Polly. She dried her eyes and looked round at him.

‘He’s gone.’

Gedge took her right hand, and then Rondeau’s left, and clasped them together in front of him.

‘He will never be forgotten. And more than that, his work will continue. We’ll make sure of that.’

Polly nodded, and the assembled crowd lowered their heads and paid their respects.

A
few minutes later
, Hugh Garland, Jack Cross and three uniformed policemen strode across the demolition site towards the shack.

 ‘Well,’ said Garland. ‘We’ve caught at least some of the gang’s clients. There’ll be some explaining to do in a few wealthy households before long. But the gang themselves? We haven’t seen Ackerman or Naseby.’

‘Nor Gedge or Rondeau,’ said Cross. ‘I’m dreading what we’re going to find in here, to be honest.’

But before they reached the door, it was opened. Lucas Gedge stood there.

‘Inspector Cross, Major Garland. You’d better come in.’

T
hree weeks
after the events at the former prison, Gedge was again sitting on the bench in the garden of Christ Church, Spitalfields. He was wrapped up against the sudden chill that had descended on the capital. The temperature had dropped like a stone in the last few days. Snow was predicted. He was breathing deeply, trying to imbibe some fresh air from the tiny green space. The traffic noise seemed to quieten for a few minutes, and when he closed his eyes, he could imagine he was in the middle of the countryside.

‘We may be right next to the house of god, but that won’t stop one of the locals from picking your pockets, you know.’

Polly, smiling broadly, came and sat next to him.

‘How are you?’ said Gedge.

‘Much better. I don’t suppose I’ll ever get over it exactly, but the pain gets less each day. Sometimes it feels like being cast adrift in life, without your navigator, without your compass. But then I tell myself not to be so silly. He brought me up to be self-reliant and that’s what I’ll be. Moping about just isn’t our way.’

‘That’s the spirit. You’re going to stay on in White Lion Street?’

‘Of course. I love that street and that house, with all its history. Maybe one day I’ll move on. But I need to go through and organise all of Claude’s things. It’s not a straightforward task.’

‘Do you want some help with it? If I’m to carry on with his work, it would seem a good way to start an understanding of it.’

‘That would be fun. We can discuss it as we go. Also, I’ve been busy with all these people turning up to pay their respects and give their condolences. Today, I’ve had a mysterious Russian gentleman with a fur hat and a serious expression, followed by the two Michaux brothers. Loic and Mathieu. You know them, I think?’

‘Yes, indeed. They are well?’

‘Yes. Also, Darius has left on his expedition, as he said he would. I hope he finds what remains of his family back in Persia. It sounded unlikely.’

‘Are you alone in the house, then?’

‘Not quite. I’ve employed a housekeeper. She’s there several days a week. But otherwise, yes. But that’s fine; I’ve got plenty to keep myself busy. Not that I’d
mind
your company, if you’re at a loose end. But, what of you? And especially, how is poor Hannah?’

‘She seems to have recovered well. She’s back staying with her mother, of course. But I’m so happy to be seeing her almost every day. She still has nightmares. That’s something I can sympathise with. But on the whole she is back to her bubbly self. Her experiences have made her even more keen on rights for women, by the way. She’s been lecturing me about it regularly.’

‘Good girl! I’ll have to talk to her about that. There are some wonderful speakers she must go and listen to. I hope that’s not a sceptical look I’m seeing, Lucas. Do you have some objection to women being treated more fairly?’

‘Far from it. You yourself have amply shown what women can do if given a chance. You saved my life and helped to save my daughter’s.’

‘You give me too much credit. But, thank you. Now, listen. There’s something I have to tell you.’

‘What’s that?’

‘That night, when you arrived at the top of the stairs. Claude was just saying his last words to me. Barely whispering them, actually.’

‘Yes, you said. About the clients being some of the highest in the land?’

‘No. After that. I thought he was going to tell me who some of them were. But what he actually said wasn’t so straightforward. His speech was halting and partial, of course, but I’m certain his exact words were: “The man…wearing a scarab…murders…there’s a connection…look in the files.”

‘I don’t know why I didn’t mention it before. I’ve no idea what it means, and I’ll have to decipher the relevant files to be able to understand it.’

Gedge said ‘It sounds ominous. But we all need time to get over the Ackerman affair, Polly.’

She smiled. ‘I know. Don’t worry, I’m not going to rush into anything. But once I’ve sorted myself out, I must try to work out this
scarab
business. I owe it to father.’

‘Of course, and when you’re ready, I’ll be there to help. But for now, let’s forget about all that. How about a drink? The Admiral Jervis is just around the corner.’

As they walked off, arm in arm, the first snowflakes began to fall.

* * *