The Legend of Long Jones Page 10
“Is it done?” a harsh voice said from outside and Mullins stopped dead and listened.
“Yes Sir, as strong as it can be, the blacksmith said,” Timmons reported. There was the sound of the frame being lifted from the ground and then the voice said,
“Good, this will do nicely.” Mullins didn’t know who this person was but it was clear from Timmons earlier fear that this was not a man to be trifled with. “You’ve done well, Timmons.”
“Thank you, Sir,”
“You will find your daughter in the back of the general store at the corner,” the man said. Mullins was shocked, it had come out of the man like he was doing Timmons a favour.
“Oh thank you, thank you,” Timmons said and there was the sound of his running feet as he set off to find his daughter who must have been held captive for whatever reason while this work was being done. Mullins couldn't figure out at all why the frame being mended could be so important and such a secret. What the hell was it for?
The man in the yard moved around a few steps and then he too left presumably with the frame. Mullins waited a moment and then went back out into the yard. He crept to the gate and saw a man lift the light frame into the back of a cart and then get up into the seat and drive it away. He never saw the man’s face at all
Chapter 9
Sam Seedorf woke to the splashing of water over his face. He sat up in shock and the pain from where he’d been hit in the back of the head shot through him violently. He looked up and saw it was Tobias who had thrown the water.
“What happened?” Tobias asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam said trying to recall who had hit him. “I was keeping an eye on the shed and the next I knew was waking up here now.”
“You can’t remember anything else at all?”
“No.”
“Did anyone leave the shed while you were watching, or come to it?”
“No, but who’s to say if anyone is in there now. How long have I been out?” Sam said struggling to get to his feet. Tobias didn’t offer to help, he paced around in a circle,
“Muc will be pissed about this,” he said.
“I know,” Sam said rubbing his head. He looked at his hand and saw flaky dried blood. The headache was starting now too and he knew the next few hours were not going to be very pleasant at all.
“Come on,” Tobias said, “We better go back and look inside to see if they are still there.” Sam nodded and they set off.
It was a more terse affair without the might of Lord Muc with them and they called out many times before going to the door and pushing it open to find it empty.
“Shit!” Tobias said, “They could have led us right to him if you had kept your eyes open!”
“I didn’t know they had someone watching me too,” Sam said in his defence but he knew it wasn’t much of an excuse. He’d been lax and now they were back at square one.
MULLINS GATHERED UP his tools and followed the departing cart down the alleyway and out onto the street. Once it was out on the road, however, the driver cracked the whip and the horse trotted off at speed causing people to run and jump for their safety as it passed by. Shouts of anger rose up and someone threw a cabbage head at the cart but it never slowed and the driver never turned to look at anyone. Even at a run and without his tools Mullins would have found it hard to keep up with the cart to see who the mystery man was. He watched it until is rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight.
Weeping came to his ear then and Mullins turned to the source. Timmons was just inside the General Store holding his daughter in a tight embrace. It was she who was weeping but Timmons own eyes bore the gloss of tears wanting to fall as well. How terrified they must both have been, Mullins thought.
“Who was that man?” Mullins asked going up to them. Timmons looked up and recognised him and shook his head,
“Leave it alone blacksmith,” he said in a weary voice.
“I don’t want to leave it alone,” Mullins said, “I don’t want people like him going around this city taking daughters captive for no good reason at all!”
“I have my daughter back,” Timmons said, “That’s all I care about. We will be leaving New York and won’t be coming back.”
“That’s fine for you, but what about the next person he does this to?” Mullins pressed him. “What the hell was that metal frame that makes it so important a young girl’s life was dependant on it, anyway?”
“I don’t know what it was,” Timmons said, “I was just ordered to get a blacksmith to strengthen the iron and that was all.”
“Do you have any idea what the frame is for?” Mullins asked, he didn’t like the idea that he’d been working on something that was going to be used for ill purposes.
“None,” Timmons said and made to walk away with his daughter.
“Do you know who he is?” Mullins demanded again.
“Leave it alone or something bad will happen to you,” was Timmons final word on the matter. He guided his still sobbing daughter away.
MUC WALKED ALONG THE street where Jeremiah’s now closed tailor shop was. He’d come for a specific purpose and it was something he’d been meaning to do since Roan was killed but just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. He’d had a brief visit back home to set Aunty Kay a task that took her out of the house for once, and she was happy to do it. Her answers when he saw her later could bear heavy in this matter and he hoped he was right in his suspicions.
There was a bell above the door of the haberdasher’s two doors up from Roan’s old shop and a man behind the counter looked up in alarm when he saw Lord Muc entering his shop.
“Y..yes, can I h..help you?” he stammered no doubt thinking he was about to he robbed.
“Perhaps you can my good man,” Muc said as affably as he could in an effort to put the man at ease, “I’m looking for some information.”
“About w...what?”
“Has anyone approached you to buy this store from you in the last few months?” There was a moment of hesitation before the man answered,
“No,” but Muc couldn’t be sure if this was simply nervousness on his part or an attempt at deception.
“How about any of the other shops along here?” Muc asked, “Was anyone trying to buy those?”
“Not that I know of,” the man said with a confused look on his face.
“Did Jeremiah Roan ever talk about selling his place before he passed away?”
“Mr Roan and I didn’t have too much talk between us,” he said, “but I never heard him speak of selling, no.”
“Did Mr Roan have any enemies, or anyone he was arguing with lately?”
“No, Mr Roan was a business owner, not some ruffian...” he stopped himself and looked nervously at Muc afraid that he had insulted the huge man before him.
“Like me?” Muc finished the sentence but it was with a smile and he left before the poor man fainted with worry.
Muc had this same conversation with very little variance with four more traders on the street and felt he’d come to the end of this line of investigation. He didn’t know exactly how to find out if the Roan building was for sale already or if someone had bought it and wasn’t using it yet. This was something he could do with finding out, it would stand to him in the future if he knew where to find out this information.
THE POLICEMAN CAME back for his dagger a few minutes after six as promised. Mullins was tired and agitated having had to catch up with a lot of work. His mind was preoccupied with what had happened earlier with Timmons and his daughter and he thought about telling the policeman about it. There was something very off in this man, however, and Mullins kept it to himself. This guy had the air of a dirty officer, one who would work for the very thugs he was supposed to be protecting people from. He might even be aware of who was holding Timmons daughter hostage.
“This is good work,” the man said looking over the blade in the firelight. Mullins nodded his thanks. He wondered was he getting paid for this job or was it for free.
“How well do you know Lord Muc?” the man then asked and it took Mullins by surprise.
“We knew each other back in Ireland,” Mullins said, “He came to America first and we met again when me and the wife got here.”
“You know he’s the leader of an illegal gang, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Mullins said worried about getting himself in trouble here, “But I have nothing to do with that at all.” The man nodded,
“Yes, I know. We have been watching you to be sure.”
“Watching me?” This made Mullins very nervous indeed. Again the man nodded,
“We see you are not involved with the gang. It is a dangerous life you know.”
“Yes, not one I’m interested in at all,” Mullins said.
“Just this afternoon one of the other gang leaders, Lizard Lawndale, was murdered. His throat slit in the street.”
“Really?” Mullins was surprised, “That kind of news would usually travel fast around here.”
“You’ve no doubt been busy here,” the policeman said looking around the place. He rummaged in his pocket and took out a few coins and handed them to Mullins. He took the coins and had the good sense not to look to see how much it was.
The policemen sheathed the dagger and then went to the door. He turned back to Mullins and said,
“Stay out of trouble.”
“I will.”
The man hadn’t made it all the way out the door when he stopped and stepped back inside. Mullins looked at him puzzled,
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked.
“It is snowing heavily again,” he said, “I’m just going to stand in here in the heat until the worst of it passes over.”
MUC HEADED FOR MULLINS’ place again having been frustrated by the waste of time with Jeremiah Roan’s old neighbours. The light was faded now and evening was coming on fast. Dark clouds filled the sky and new snow began to fall.
It was late enough for Mullins to be at home by now, but it wasn’t much of a detour to swing by the smithy to be sure he wasn’t there. The smoke coming from the chimney told him he’d made the right choice. The snow had grown steadily heavier as he’d walked the streets and his clothes were getting wet. It would be good to get inside the warm shack for a bit.
“What are you doing working so late in the evening?” he boomed stepping inside without knocking or announcing himself, “Are you having some trouble with the wife?” he laughed.
He saw the look in Mullins’ eyes and sensed the movement to his left at exactly the same moment. He jerked away but it wasn’t fast enough to stop the knife from slicing into his neck. The pain was a hot flash and Muc fell over some buckets of iron leavings as he clasped the wound with his hand. He felt the whoosh of cold air as his assailant fled through the door.
Muc pulled himself up to go after him but he stumbled again, the strength leaving him rapidly. His vision was blurring and he was vaguely aware of Mullins saying his name. He fell back onto the ground and everything took on a red hue and then black spots began to form in his vision.
A new searing pain shocked his neck and he screamed out in agony before falling into darkness.
MULLINS SAW THE BLADE unsheathed by the policeman too late and he couldn’t warn Muc or intervene before the attack was made on the unsuspecting gang leader. He was on his feet in an instant and was about the chase the man when he caught sight of Muc’s stumbling and the amount of blood that was pouring from the wound. It didn’t look good and if Mullins didn’t act fast there was a good chance he was going to have a dead man on his floor in a matter of moments.
Looking around the room frantically, pulling things off counters and pushing bits of iron aside he looked for something to stem the bleeding with but nothing usable was coming to hand. Muc was on his back now and his eyes were tottering between life and death as he tried to regain consciousness. One more look around confirmed there was nothing else for it. He was going to have to close the wound the only way he knew how.
Pulling a hot iron from the fire he bent down and turned Muc’s face away from the heat and then with that same free hand pressed the head so that the wound closed over to a thin slit that still seeped blood.
“Sorry to do this to you, Muc, but you’re already as ugly as sin so I don’t see it will make much difference!” He pressed the white hot iron into the flesh and heard the sizzle of meat cooking and the smell to go along with it.
Muc sprang back to life, his eyes wide a moment before he knew what was happening. Mullins pressed down with both knees on his friend’s chest and with his other hand pressed his head into the dirt. A couple more seconds should do it!
“What in the name of Christ!” Muc shouted and he struggled to get back up. Mullins was lifted off the ground but he pushed back down and then eased up and pulled the iron from Muc’s neck. Muc’s huge right hand came up and planted a heavy blow to the side of Mullins’ face and he fell off sideways, the iron falling on to the ground, scorching the damp earth there with a fresh hissing sound.
“What kind of a way is that to thank someone who just saved your life?” Mullins said holding his jaw and then lashing a kick into Muc’s side from where he lay. They both lay there a moment each looking up at the ceiling.
“Who was that?” Muc asked.
“He was dressed as a policeman but I’m not so sure he was a policeman now.”
“What did he look like?”
“A younger fella, clean shaven, black hair.” Muc nodded at the description.
“That’s the one who was following me, and I chased that night when you couldn’t keep up,” Muc said.
“So he’s been looking to kill you all along,” Mullins said. He got to his feet and offered a hand to help Muc up.
“I’m not an old woman yet,” Muc said slapping the hand away with a grin.
“He told me something else while he was here,” Mullins said when they were both back on their feet. Muc looked to him, “He said Lizard Lawndale was killed today. I think he was the one to do it, now.” Muc nodded at this. Whoever this young buck was he was trying to muscle in on the gangs. He’d tried to kill off the leaders of two today and who knew where he was headed next. There could be more dead by morning and a dead leader always left a power vacuum in the gangs that made everything tense. This is not an ideal time for this at all, but it would have to take all of Muc’s focus once the Stirling affair was over tomorrow night.
“Have you seen this fella around the place before?” Muc asked.
“No, he just appeared in the door this morning with a dagger he wanted me to look at.”
“It feels like you did a good job,” Muc grinned rubbing the gnarled and painful skin on his neck.
“You better get some clean water on that,” Mullins advised and Muc nodded,
“There’s plenty of snow out on the streets tonight, I’ll be well clean by the time I get home.”
“You should have a doctor take a look at that neck,” Mullins advised, “I don’t know what dirt might be in there now.” He took a bottle of whiskey from under a canvas covering and held it out for Muc. He took it happily and drained half of it. Mullins didn’t protest considering the pain his friend must be currently enduring.
“Now,” he said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “The reason I’m here.”
“Yes?”
“The murders committed with people having their throats torn out. What kind of a metal toothed device would be capable of doing such a thing to someone? It would have to be light enough for the killer to carry it around all night and hold it up at the full length of his arm to use it.” Mullins thought about this a moment and there was only thing that came to mind.
“Some large animal traps can be sprung and go off when something presses on a pad in the centre. That would be possible. They are heavy though so it would have to be a man like one of us or even stronger to be able to do it.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Blacksmith!”
Muc smiled at him.
BACK IN MULLINS HOME, Kate cleaned Muc’s wound and dressed it as best she could. Mullins had told her the whole story and she was appalled.
“A policeman,” she said, shaking her head.
“He was no more a policeman than I am,” Muc sneered. “He’s been around for a while now, dressing himself up in the uniform so he could go about the gang territories asking questions and finding out what he needed to know.”
“Why?” Mullins asked.
“He’s looking to take over for himself,” Muc said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Lizard is dead and I was supposed to be as well. I won’t be too surprised to hear Scarrow is dead b morning either.”
“What will you do?” Kate asked, a note of concern in her voice.
“Well I’ll have to kill him,” Muc said. “I can’t have people going around slashing my throat and not do anything about it.” He was smiling as he said this last part and he winked at Kate. She tried to scowl at him but it broke into a smile of her own.
“That’s not the way to handle things,” she said slapping him on the arm with one of the wet towels she’d used on his neck.
“Well, it’s the only way I know,” he said. “He has until the day after tomorrow to get out of the city. One thing at a time.”
“The kidnapped boy,” Kate nodded remembering this.
“Speaking of kidnapping,” Mullins said then, “I did a job for a man today on some strange iron frame. It turned out he was doing it for someone else and for some reason it all had to be kept secret. His daughter was actually being held captive until the work was done- can you believe that?”
“That’s awful!” Kate said. Muc looked at Mullins and shook his head.
“What was the frame used for?” he asked.