The Strings of Murder (40 page)

‘Yes. Theodore was never part of Giacomo’s plan. Do you think he killed him just so that the violin kept moving from hand to hand?’

‘I cannae tell,’ McGray said.

We moved on and found the blue knife I’d seen at Calton Hill, shining only inches from my face. As expected, the piece of paper showed an A.

‘Alistair,’ McGray said, and the very fresh, still bloody intestines proved it.

Next to the blade I saw a pair of tiny, glittering eyes. I first thought it was a rat, but then I realized that it was the wooden lion head that had adorned the Amati violin. McGray lifted it to examine it closely.

‘So Ardglass was telling the truth,’ I said. ‘Giacomo
did
give him the violin! He must have sneaked in through the chimney and left it for him. And the stupid Ardglass thought he was looking at the Devil!’

‘What an idiot to just take it!’ McGray grunted. ‘Typical Ardglass! He knew we were looking for this fiddle; he knew it had been stolen but he simply kept it and played it ’til it made him puke his guts out!’

I sighed. ‘I cannot say I am too aggrieved …’

It was then chilling to find a fourth knife, lying by itself on the humid soil, no note attached yet. To me it looked like the most menacing one: the unusually long blade was dark red with black, tiger-like stripes. McGray lit the ceiling and we saw a line of empty hooks already nailed to the rock.

‘He’s prepared for the next one,’ McGray gasped. ‘I’d say he planned four killings from the very start.’

‘Maybe, but then why four?’ I whispered. ‘Perhaps we can find something here that will tell us.’

We found a cheap violin, most likely an instrument the Carolis had given Giacomo to keep him happy. It lay on
top of a pile of damp books, which spanned everything from history, theory of music and astronomy, to – of course – witchcraft and chemistry. There was a small volume made of scrap sheets neatly stitched together by hand. I leafed through it and found it full of childish scribbles. McGray drew his light closer and read aloud.

‘
Blood! I hate blood! And how he squealed! Like one o’ those slaughtered pigs …
’ he turned a few pages. ‘
Scrape off … scrape off … scrape off the slimy stuff …
’ McGray shivered. ‘Keep that, Frey. That’s evidence.’

I shoved the notebook in my breast pocket and we moved along. Close to the books there was a pile of empty bottles, all labelled as bed-bug killer.

‘That explains the strong soapy smell,’ I realized. ‘It is here where he prepared the poison from common soap.’

In the farthest corner of the gallery we found a bundle of blankets forming an improvised bed. There was a section of intestine lying there. Someone had been scraping the mucous coating from it. There was a slimy mash of scraped tripe piled alongside the clean gut, and we also found a small disc of brass lying right next to it:
that
had been the metallic sound we’d heard but seconds ago.

‘He was working here,’ McGray whispered, ‘using that disc to scrape the guts clean. He heard us coming and dropped it … so … he still …’

‘Still must be around,’ I mumbled, and then flashed my lantern about in mad movements, searching frantically. Again the shadows played tricks on my eyes and the wavering shapes projected by the intestines became an army of monsters.

‘
Frey, stop it!
’

Right then one of the shadows came to life and threw itself onto me. I leaped, Nine-Nails shot twice and after a blurry glimpse of a hooded figure I felt two potent kicks to my arm and stomach. I dropped my gun and lantern, and then saw the black cloak dashing towards McGray.

He did not even have time to scream and I could not see more than a glimpse, for McGray’s lantern smashed on the rocks and the cave fell into the thickest shadows. Suddenly all I had before my eyes was blackness.
Blackness!

I was expecting to hear more turmoil, but all that followed was silence; the three of us had gone still in the pitch black cave.

After a moment of utter confusion I felt McGray’s hand seizing my arm, and slowly pulling me to one side. We moved a few inches in utter silence and I understood what he wanted to do; we would move about quietly and pray for the beast not to find us.

Can Giacomo possibly see in the absolute darkness?
I thought.
And how well?
Perhaps he could see us perfectly, as in summer daylight, and was only basking in our terrified, slow motions.

We heard a splash in the pools of blood and halted immediately, our hearts pounding.

Then only silence.

No sounds, no vision. For me, the universe had reduced to the pounding of my heart and McGray’s hand gripping my arm.

Slowly, a terror began to grow in me. I could almost feel it like a solid mass swelling in my chest; the terror of not knowing when we were going to be attacked, or who
would be wounded first, or where in my body I’d feel the first stab …

Gently, McGray pulled my arm and we moved another few steps. Not even when dissecting bodies at Oxford had I thought so carefully before moving.

There was another splash and we halted. Again, the deepest silence, and this time it felt like an eternity.

McGray tapped my arm with a finger. I still do not know how I managed to comprehend what he was trying to tell me: Giacomo could not see either!

He was hiding in the darkness, as cautiously as we were. And equally sightless.

He’d been mighty clever, though. He knew that he could not beat the two of us, so he had disarmed and blinded us before we could do anything.

I felt my lighter in my pocket. How tempting it was to ignite it and rush for my gun; or my lantern – I had dropped it but I’d not heard it shatter. However, my lighter would be like a beacon amidst such darkness, revealing our position long before I could reach for weapon.

Just when I thought that we would be waiting for ever, a coarse, venomous voice resounded throughout the cave. The words bounced on the walls in otherworldly echoes: ‘
I kill four …
’

It was an odd voice, its open vowels and the rolling ‘r’ undoubtedly Mediterranean, yet not entirely.

‘
Want to know why?
’ The question was asked in a mawkish tone that chilled my blood.

Neither of us replied. With that echo we could not tell where the voice had come from, but our adversary undoubtedly had a much finer ear.

‘
Youse don’t wanna know? But youse are too interested in me!
’

The voice was wicked indeed, and it had a childlike quality that made it even more terrifying. It was the kind of voice we dread in our infancy; those voices we think we hear in the darkness of our childhood bedrooms.

‘
I a creepy crawly … everybody say to me … lock me away when visits come … but ’tis
handy
to be a creepy crawly … I see and hear everything! I go everywhere!
’

I heard the brushing of clothes dancing around us. The sound came and went from every direction.

‘
Sure youse don’t wanna know? Youse shy!
’ The voice became a startling howl. ‘
Then I show youse!
’

Again the sound of brushing clothes, this time frantically, and then I heard a wooden echo; one I’d heard every time Elgie picked up his violin.

Low notes filled the cave. It was a frantic melody embellished with flashing trills; enthralling yet terrifying, like those tempestuous organ fugues by Bach.

Then silence.

A moment later there was second burst of notes. It was the same melody, but in a higher key and played twice as fast. Again it stopped abruptly, only to be resumed a third time in an even higher key and tempo. Then it stopped.

Just as I thought there could not be a higher pitch or a faster rhythm, the fourth outburst came, shrilling and maddening. It pierced my ears like nails scratching glass, yet part of me wanted to light up the cave and see those fingers pressing the strings in a crazy blur.

Thank goodness it stopped, but then Giacomo’s voice resounded again.

‘Youse can’t guess? Stupid fools. Then I do it!’

I saw a tiny flame igniting on the other side of the gallery. It was only a match, but to my eyes it looked as bright as a roaring fire. I caught a glimpse of the five-eyed mask and the red knife. He was standing by the entrance to a narrow passage. ‘
I take knife. I kill tonight …
’

McGray ran towards the light, shooting compulsively, as the creature dropped the match and ran away. Using my lighter I found my gas lantern intact, but as soon as I lit it Nine-Nails snatched it and went after Giacomo.

I shouted, ‘
It’s a trap! McGray!
’ but he would not listen; he was already entering the passage. I had no time to think so I yelled the first thing that came to my head: ‘
Killing yourself won’t bring your sister back!
’

McGray halted. I had touched his most sensitive nerve.

He stood still for a moment … then panted and grunted in a terrible inner struggle. God knows how many thoughts haunted him in those brief seconds … and then he thrust himself forward recklessly.

‘Bloody, stubborn Scot!’ I yelled, running after him. Two would stand more chance than one.

By then McGray had run a good stretch, carrying our only remaining light. I had to follow him blindly, running hysterically and stumbling among the rocks until I finally found the gleam of the lantern.

‘Where is he?’ I asked, but McGray was motionless; in front of him the passage branched in three directions.

‘I think I lost –’

McGray leaped forwards as soon as he saw a faint gleam in the central tunnel. Again we ran madly, this time along a snaking, claustrophobic tunnel that seemed to stretch for ever.

The terrifying voice was gabbling madly, the echoes bouncing across the cave: ‘
Come on! I show youse! Youse led me to it, now I lead youse!
’

I do not know how far we ran, but McGray stopped dead all of a sudden. I crashed against him and we almost fell into a wide channel that opened before us.

It was a perfectly round tunnel: lined with bricks, three yards wide, with a gush of stinking water running through it.

‘The cave’s connected to the sewerage,’ McGray spluttered. ‘That’s how he brought Caroli’s –’

By then McGray was already jumping into the murky waters. He’d seen the creature.

‘Christ, why when I am wearing fine clothes?’ I moaned, jumping right behind him.

I sank in the brown stream up to my thighs, wincing at the foul stench. I tried to run but my overcoat dragged me backwards like an anchor. I saw McGray getting rid of his own coat and I had to do the same (even then, a part of my brain regretted the loss of my fur-trimmed garment).

‘I’m losing him!’ McGray shouted, lighting the channel ahead of us. The black figure was swimming merrily against the current while we painfully kicked and splashed in the sludge.

‘He doesn’t want to get away, he wants us to follow him,’ I grunted, feeling my legs burning. The stream was a constant onslaught and very soon we were panting.

I will never know how I managed to keep on among the squealing rats and the dreadful stench. I envied McGray: he just clenched his lantern and progressed stoically.

From time to time the hooded head turned back to
catch a glimpse of us, the five eyes gleaming under the lantern’s beam. A couple of times McGray was tempted to shoot it, but decided to save the bullets until he had a closer target.

We lost sight of him after he turned a corner in the sewer. We had lagged behind quite a gap so it took us a worryingly long time to reach that point. When we turned we found the wide channel going on indefinitely; even the lantern’s white beam could not reach its end. Right next to us we found the mouth of some side pipe that discharged a scanty flow into the main channel.

There was nobody around.

‘Did he go that way?’ Nine-Nails asked desperately, pointing at the inlet pipe. ‘Or did he go straight?
What did he do?
’

‘Could have been either,’ I said. ‘We should separate. You go straight and I –’

‘Nae. We need to fight him together. He can take one of us, but not two.’

McGray looked at both channels, waving the lantern in frustration. ‘Well, I can play his game too.’ Then he hollered, ‘
Come on!
Come on, Giacomo! Yer aunty told us everything about ye!’

There was no reply. McGray shouted louder. ‘She told us how yer mother kept ye locked with the hounds when ye were a wee child! How on her deathbed she made yer aunt swear she’d never show ye to the world!’

We listened intently, but there was nothing besides the dull sound of the waters.

‘We ken it’s been difficult for ye!’ McGray shouted. ‘But we can help ye! Even if ye look the way ye –’

‘
I can help you to Hell!
’

It was not a yell but a bitter, scornful whisper. We barely heard it and instantly rushed into the side channel. We heard some splashing ahead; frantic steps not too far away.

‘Aye, ye betrayed yerself, laddie!’ McGray said.

We ran through so many bends and bifurcations that I completely lost track of our way. I remembered the mess of dotted lines I’d seen on the city plans; we were somewhere underneath the Old Town.

Without the current coming against us we gained ground swiftly; we could hear Giacomo’s steps ever more clearly, and even his panting breath.

‘Come on, laddie! Yer in over yer head!’

It was Giacomo’s turn to cackle. ‘
I think otherwise …
’

We made it to another wide channel, and as we entered we saw the edge of Giacomo’s cloak hurrying into a very narrow side duct.

McGray pushed me forward. ‘Go! I won’t fit in there!’

The pipe ascended to the street; the light of a lamp lit Giacomo as he crawled upwards.

I did my best to follow but the duct was wet and slippery, and almost as soon as I jumped upon it I dropped my gun and slid all the way back.

McGray pushed me upwards as if I were a puppet. This time I dug my very nails into the bricks, feeling myself slide down while the dark cloak moved agilely towards the open drain.