The Killing Hand (13 page)

   "Then may you reap what you deserve," Francis scorned. "For you deserve no less than your victims."

   "Now now,
Francis, be careful what you wish for. How would you feel if such a thing came true as a light of your words? Come, let us begin." Lucius picked up his hand and the rest of the room followed his example, with the exception of Francis who merely slouched into his seat.

   We played cards, many of us half-heartedly. The rounds took much longer than usual. Many of us remained transfixed in our own thoughts and did not realise that it was our turn until Lucius barked re
minders at us. The game seemed to go on for an eternity and it came as a great relief when it ended, albeit with Lucius as the victor.

   "You are all letting your game down it seems," he mocked as he placed his final pair down on the table.

   "Bravo, Lucius," Palmer clapped. "Who will you choose?"

   "I am going to go for Jasper Thatcher. I am afraid that he holds no profitable gain from his death, but he holds such political clout that it would be worthwhile to get him out of the way."

   The men began to look towards the doorway in the understanding that the meeting had adjourned, but Lucius continued. "We do have another issue. It seems the law have taken further measures in an attempt to apprehend our killer. If you have not noticed they now patrol the streets at night in greater numbers as a direct result, it is said, of these reports of ‘Steel Jack’."

   Palmer chuckled. "Not much good it will do them when the man can run like the wind."

   "I did not know the police would get involved," Harry whimpered.

   "How did you not know?" Francis scolded in an irritated outburst. "You have been committing murder!"

   "I just did not think they would be able to link them. I do not want to continue on if they are going to find us out."

   Lucius spoke, "Those wh
o lose their nerve will be killed. Anyone who leaves this meeting will be killed by our killer because they know too much. This is made clear. This is exactly what happened to Rufus. If you step out of line..." Lucius cast a glare at Francis, "...you will suffer the same fate."

   Harry glanced over at Lucius with fearful eyes. "Do you not think it would be best for Him to let us know his identity? It will be simpler if we can ask Him questions and get answers from him directly."

   Lucius shook his head. "No, he has concealed his identity for his own reasons. By committing his business this way he remains impartial to this group. Besides, if our killer was known, what would prevent that information from being used against us?" Once again Lucius glared at Francis, who scowled back. "It would prove problematic for all concerned."

   "And His words will have more power over the others," Palmer added. "Everyone will inevitably be thinking what would happen if someone disagrees with Him."

   "That is working under the assumption that the killer sits with us. But yes, that is true. It is better off the way it is now where we can all speak equally. He does not want to reveal his identity to anyone, not even us."

   Francis leant back in his chair, eyes squinted. "Wh
at if he gets caught?"

   "The man is an assassin, evading the law appears to be what he does. I doubt we have anything to worry about, gentlemen."

   Yet, despite the complacency of some of the men within that room, worry was what seemed to cloud our minds. The wonder of who and why pestered our minds and, following my brief encounter the previous night, I wondered just how much danger we were in personally. We were subject to those meetings as slaves, with no choice in the matter. Make no mistake, just because the outcome of those meetings fit in with Lucius and Palmer's objectives did not mean that they were not as much a slave as Francis, Harry and I. Just because they willingly joined in did not mean they actually had a choice in the matter. The knife was held to their throats and if they ever decided to pull away then, as Rufus found out, the blade would only dig deeper until obedience or silence.

   "Back to my point... the police are aware of our killer. They have been for some time, I suspect, but it
appears that they now bring action against him. In the next week they are holding a public meeting next week to address the murders. I recommend we all go just to be aware of how much of our business is visible to the public eye, although I suspect none of it. If nothing, I hope we are amused by hearing just how far off the mark they really are."

   Harry said, "They are finally paying attention."

   "For all the good it will do. Besides, their involvement does not change our participation – do not forget we are in league with a killer here. We cannot afford some mistakes. The liberty of foolishness is now alien to us."

   Palmer grinned to himself. "You make it sound like a bad thing, being in league with a killer."

   "Do you not see? He has got us right where he wants us," Francis started to reason. "If the law clamps down on this we will all be the ones to take the hit."

   "The public hearing is happening on Tuesday," Lucius clapped, silencing everyone and indicating the discussion to be over. "I will b
e there, I suggest you all attend."

   With that, no further discussion was had. We all stood to leave, ignoring one another. Upon exiting the club no goodbyes were uttered. Instead, we made our ways home in silence and deep thought. As always Francis and
I walked together, although we found we had little to say. What could one say? We were stuck and there was little way to escape, other than fleeing London itself. Francis would not do this due to his wife and I could not due to my lack of funds to support myself, for the very same reasons that I had returned to London in the first place.

   When we arrived outside Francis' house he turned and nodded to me, but that was all. He disappeared inside and I continued on in silence through the darkened cobblestone
streets. Whereas there would normally be drunkards about the night, stumbling home and singing to themselves, they had been replaced with something that should have made me feel better, but instead made my heart sink. Officers of the law, surveying the street, checking the alleys, watching me.

   The street
s of London were on high alert.

It was a cold Tuesday morning when the crowd gathered outside Mansion House.
When the great doors opened, the rabid masses pushed their way through into the meeting hall, eager to get close to the front. The Mayor of London sat at his desk at the far end of the room, elevated above the crowd as if some sort of higher power. He was already addressing public queries by the time I managed to shoulder my way in. He was mostly addressing the effects of the recession that had crippled the country in recent years. The turnout in the room was rowdy; many had no doubt come in interest of hearing about the recent murders.

   Amidst the crowd I spied Lucius, Harry and Palmer huddled together conspicuously near the corner. They all shared the same wide eyed attentiveness as they listened to every word that echoed about the room. None of them sp
oke as I slipped in beside them, although Harry gave me a nod of acknowledgement. Lucius ignored me and gave a grave shake of his head as he continued to listen to the speech. His gaze did not break from the Mayor. I thought about asking why Francis was not among them, but figured it was best to not mention him at all. I do not suppose he wanted to get caught up any further than he already was, instead only doing the bare minimum in order to remain on His good side.

   The Mayor demanded order amongst the r
abid crowd, who shushed at his authoritative bellow. "It is not without note that the recent murders in London have been committed. An official investigation has been launched and will continue until the perpetrator has been brought to justice. Of special interest is a note I received only recently, signed an anonymous resident of London. The letter regards the attacks directly."

   The room spontaneously burst into a choir of chatter. An anonymous letter regarding the attacks was a twist in itself. Who wou
ld know such information to be able to report it? The Mayor hushed the crowd into submission before continuing. "The letter states as follows: It appears that some individuals of the highest ranks of life have laid a wager, a pact if you will, with a mischievous and foolhardy companion who durst take it upon himself to carry out crimes most heinous in their gain."

   Behind me, Palmer leaned over to Lucius and whispered in his ear. "The highest ranks of life?"

   Lucius, however, did not respond. His stony stare lay fixedly on the Mayor. For the first time I thought I could regard worry behind those cold eyes. His lips pursed and I could hear him growl, “
You git, Rufus
.”

   The Mayor continued to read the letter. "The wage has been acce
pted, and the unmanly villain has succeeded in depriving several men of their lives. This affair has continued for some time, and, strange to say, the papers are still silent on the subject other than to glorify the villain. It is as if the journalists and constabulary of our time are unable to effectively communicate or reason that these events are the result of a perpetrator of whom the public should be informed, rather than feared. The writer has reason to believe that they have the whole history at their finger-ends but, through interested motives, are induced to remain silent." The mayor broke from the letter to address the enraptured audience. "I received this letter and the odd nature of which has induced me to withhold it from the public for some days. I was expectant that such a statement might be made through a source of indisputable authority relative to the matter of which it informed."

   The crowd remained silent as the Mayor paused, clearing his throat before continuing. "On reading the account
I believe there is truth behind the letter. Although I would very much prefer to speak to the author, it is apparent that he wishes to remain anonymous. It appears that the letter was written in a knowledgeable hand, possibly by someone who is in league with the murderer and therefore worried for his safety. I have no doubt with this new knowledge that the police may be depended upon to prevent any further disturbance."

   With this a figure stepped onto the stage. Tall. Handsome. Authoritative. My heart s
ank. It was James.

   "As head of the case," he spoke as my heart sank further, "I can promise that we will endeavour to capture this villain quickly and efficiently. A mania is strife amongst those who claim to witness the unholy guise of this atrocious g
houl, but I can promise that behind the mask of night he is simply a man, albeit a wretched one."

   The crowd burst into chatter once again. An audience member rose up to call out. "There are many
reports about London telling dreadful stories of this ghost or devil."

   James responded, "I have heard of such stories. The truth is he has struck down many men and burdened their unfortunate families. Worse he also has stricken fear into those who woul
d idly listen to tall tales. I am sceptical as to whether this being is ghost or devil, but what we must accept is that people are dead as a result. He is no more a devil than a man, and as a man it will not be long before he is caught. Until then I advise you all to avoid travelling the streets after dark." With these words he turned and left the stage, the Mayor leading him from both Mansion House and its rabid crowd.

   Lucius turned to us. "So, he knows that a group of wealthy people are behind the kill
ings, but little more."

   Palmer was on the tips of his toes trying to peer over the crowd. "How did he get to such a conclusion?"

   “I suspect a certain ex-partner of ours may be to blame for that Palmer, although I can only speculate on the matter. Unless someone out there is paying close attention to our actions, then it could only be someone within our circle and only he has been foolish enough to act in such a rash way. I propose we meet soon to discuss these events and how we should respond."

  
   Before any of us could say any more there came a voice from behind me. The familiar feeling of my heart drowning confirmed the very thing I wished it not to be. It was James.

   "I did not expect to see you here, Eric." He smiled, placing he hand on my sho
ulder in a friendly manner. His expression dropped somewhat. "Certainly together, as you are."

   Harry said, "James, it has been a while. How are you?"

   The expression lingered. "I am good, thank you, Harry. Were you all here for the Jack announcement?" I prayed for James to not further divulge his involvement in the case, but I knew it was too late. He was a proud man - and it was that pride that occasionally ruled his mouth. Every fibre of my being wanted to stop him. To shout, or to reach out and interrupt him, but I knew not of a way to silence my friend without being conspicuous. He continued, "I have been appointed as the lead investigator of the case, did you hear?”

   Lucius smiled. A fake smile if I ever saw one. "Congratulations, James. A proud
post indeed. Now, if you will excuse me, I am required."

   With this Lucius pushed his way into the crowd, letting the mass of people form a barrier between him and James as he vanished. Palmer and Harry followed him without saying anything further to us.

   "They are not a crowd I expected to you entertain," James spoke as they disappeared into the crowd.

   "They are not," I lied. "I spied them in the crowd when I entered and thought it rude to not acknowledge them, is all."

   "They were here for the Jack announcement, I suppose?"

   I nodded. "It appears that Rufus's murder was committed by this Jack figure.
According to the things one hears, anyway."

   James nodded in silence. For a minute I thought he was onto us, but his expression relaxed and he se
emed to drop the notion. "I am surprised Lucius would show such interest in another man's death when he stands nothing to gain. In particular, the only funeral I would expect him to turn up to would be his own."

   I chuckled, agreeing wholeheartedly with
the sentiment. "So, it is that you are lead investigator on the case?"

   "That is correct," he beamed.

   "You must be proud of being attached to such a high profile case. Can I expect to see your name in the headlines again?"

   James grinned. "Leave it
be, Eric. You know I hate it - even more so with the distorting of this case. The media have been nothing but a nightmare recently. If they reported that this Jack fellow was a murderous elephant I could guarantee you that I'd have a crowd of people at the station the following morning to report just that."

   I laughed. Partly because I found it funny, but mostly because it felt good to have someone poke holes through the ridiculousness of the situation. "So, no leads?"

   "We have two suspects in for questioning right now, although neither have given me anything worthwhile so far. If I cannot break them soon then I will have to let them go, but that is not what I wish."

   We began to exit Manor House with the crowd. The pale light of the day washed down o
n us.

   I asked, "Do you think they are the ones doing it?"

   James shrugged. "Perhaps. I will observe them for a couple of days. Nobody knows about the arrest, so if another murder happens then I guess I will have my answer. I will not be best pleased if that is the case! It is an honour to carry out such a task for the Lord Mayor and I want to do the case absolute justice, but there is so little to go off."

   "I hope you find him, James. I really do."

   James paused on the steps down from the great hall. "I will not let this madman get away. He is a murderer, a traitor to his Queen and Country. This is the duty given to me. I will not rest until I see him to the gallows." He broke free from the professional stance that had possessed him and smiled at me, not as an officer but as a friend once again. "I must return to work; plenty to do, I am sure you understand. I will visit soon and we shall talk. I do not see you as much as I wish I could."

   With that parting statement, James and I shook his hands o
ne final time and took our leave. I walked home alone, breaking away from the bustling crowd. Many were talking loudly about their beliefs on the Jack case. Many uninformed pretending to know what they talked of. I broke from this crowd quickly and headed home.

   Away from the centre the streets were silent. The air began to chill as evening came round. Down the way I could see a police
man patrolling, eyeing every shadow and alley purposefully. He eyed me as I walked past. And eyed the stragglers of the crowd behind me. He eyed families and businessmen. To the officer anyone in this street could be
Him
, ready to strike at any given moment. Everyone was suspect. And I no different! He could be anyone. Perhaps I knew Him personally, shared in conversation with him in my past life. But I stopped thinking of such things. The thoughts were tiring and confusing. They only served to confuse and terrify me, yet brought me no closer to a conclusion.

   I hastily made my way down the street to my house before I was approached by the good officer. Not that I had any given any reason for him to do so, but I wished to get out of the streets anyway. It
felt as if oppression had gripped London tightly. But not political oppression - it was fear. A fear rarely known and shared by such a mass of people.

   By the time I made it to my porch I felt exhausted. Although I had done little but stand, it felt as i
f my mind had been walking all day. I unlocked the door and stepped into my home in a daze. I lit the fire and poured a drink, for I felt as if I could stand no longer. I sunk into my armchair and stared at the flames. They flickered unassumingly. I had no real reason to be concerned of them, but they seemed to threaten me as they shuddered within the fireplace. I slouched, drinking and in thought for some while. My head hurt from the exhaustion and the wound on my arm stung. All I wished for was sleep and, with the warmth of the fire on my side, I was soon granted it.