The Light Beneath the Cauldron Read online

  He often wondered at Edwards’ motives but he could never come to understand them. What did he get out of all this? Was it purely the chaos around him that he enjoyed, or was it the misery that it brought about. If Adams was fully honest about it, he was also a little put out that Edwards had not approached him for help once he found out who Adams really was. It was a mistake on his part, and one that was going to cost him dearly.

  Chapter 34

  “There’s a man here with papers for you to sign,” Olocher said popping his head around the door to Edwards’ study.

  “Mr Davitt?” Edwards asked,

  “I think that’s what he said his name was.”

  “Why are you answering the door, anyway?” Edwards asked, “We have servants for that.”

  “I was passing by when he knocked,” Olocher shrugged.

  “I see, send him in, thank you.” Edwards didn’t like the idea that Olocher would open the door like that. He would have to talk to him later about it; who knew what trouble lay on the other side of a knocked door. Always best to let the servants take the brunt of it. For now, there was business to attend to.

  Mr Davitt came into the room, ushered in by Olocher.

  “Ah, Mr Davitt. So good to see you,” Edwards said striding across to shake the man by the hand. “That will be all, Steven,” he said to Olocher. It seemed to surprise the young man but Olocher nodded and left the room closing the door over as he went.

  “Hello Mr Edwards,” Davitt said, “A few signatures and the deal is done.” He held up a carry case and tapped on it smiling.

  “Excellent, what was the final price?”

  “Three thousand pounds,” Davitt said. At this Edwards smiled,

  “Well done, man,” he said, “I thought it would have been closer to four in the end.”

  “He wants to sell and you are the only buyer with ready cash,” Davitt said.

  “I see, well, that’s fortunate. Have a seat, can I get you anything?”

  “Some tea if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Nothing is too much trouble for a man who saves me a thousand pounds and delivers a mansion to me on a cold evening!” Edwards laughed and Davitt smiled as he sat down. He placed the carry case on the table and Edwards rang for the servant to order the tea.

  While they drank, Edwards read through the sale contract and signed in all the places he should. Davitt was pleased, more for his commission than Edwards’ happiness no doubt.

  “When will the family have moved out?” Edwards asked of the former owners of his new mansion.

  “Once they have payment they will be gone straight away,” Davitt said, “I don’t think they were happy in that house, the wife especially. I think she wants to go back to England.”

  “None of the family was ever truly happy there; it will do them good to get away from the place.”

  “You've been there before, yourself?”

  “Yes, I stayed there a while.”

  “What will you do with the servant village?”

  “I see no reason to do anything with it. They looked like they were getting on with things fine. I will keep them on at their same salary and things will stay the same for them I imagine.” Edwards got up and poured two glasses of brandy,

  “A celebratory drink?” he said offering a glass to Davitt. The agent took it happily; Edwards doubted the man drank brandy of this quality very often. They clinked glasses gently and sipped. Edwards enjoyed the warmth of the drink in his throat and thought about his new house. His only experience of the place had been in bad weather but he was sure there were plenty of fine days ahead down there. He would have to get an armed guard, however, he thought. Things were getting rough in the city here—the explosion at the Black Dog was enough to tell that by—but it was more dangerous for the rich in the countryside if they were not adequately prepared and guarded.

  The peasants in this country were finally getting a bit of resilience and there could be a rebellion at any time. Edwards had eyes everywhere and more and more he heard about Fenian’s and Nationalist plots. The soldiers were being attacked in the streets at night much more frequently than ever before. It was getting hot in Dublin and soon it would explode. Hopefully Edwards could get his grand project completed before that happened—that was his hope at least—and then he could go hide out in his new mansion while the fireworks went off in Ireland. He did not think it would succeed ultimately but it could get bloody. His new land with access to the sea and not too long a crossing to England would be his last defence if things were worse than he expected.

  When Davitt left that evening, Olocher came to him and seeing the glasses asked,

  “What were you celebrating?”

  “I just bought a new house in Waterford,” Edwards said smiling. “Have a brandy yourself if you want one.” Olocher nodded and took up a fresh glass and poured a measure and then topped up Edwards’ glass.

  “Why did you buy a house down there?” he asked.

  “It is somewhere for us to rest up once this work is behind us.”

  “Rest?” Olocher said, “For how long?” Edwards shrugged,

  “As long as we like I suppose. Of course, I can get you out of the country as soon as we are done if that is what you prefer, but I thought you might like some rest in a warm comfortable place before you move on with your life.”

  “We’ll just have to see how tired I am when it’s over,” Olocher said.

  “Right so,” Edwards said raising his glass, “No need to make any decisions on it tonight.”

  Edwards stood in front of the fire smiling as Olocher started reading at the desk. It was a nice feeling to own the house now and this was the first good thing that had happened in a while. He hoped it would all be over sooner rather than later now. With their enemies and the force of rebellion growing by the day it was as if the world was conspiring against his plans. Best to have it done soon, he thought. Dunbar was good, but perhaps getting James back into his position was the priority now. Edwards had a two-step plan to get him his job back, and he turned to Olocher for step one.

  “Are you ready for the next one?” he asked the young man. Olocher looked up at him keenly,

  “So soon?” he asked like he didn’t believe his luck. Edwards nodded,

  “I don’t think time is any longer on our side,” he said, “We need to move at a faster pace now.” Olocher nodded. “You can strike whenever suits you best,” Edwards said.

  Chapter 35

  The room hushed as the tall fearsome figure of Daniel Deek entered the cabin bowing his head to get in under the doorframe. He looked around the room, smiled, and nodded to the bar for a jug. Then he walked towards the fire, all eyes on him, and bent over to warm his hands. Without looking up again, knowing they were all eagerly waiting for him to say something, he said,

  “I feel I may have let you down the last time I was in. I didn’t give you what you wanted.” Now he looked around the room still smiling and met the eyes of many. Someone pushed a stool over to the fire with their foot and Deek looked down at it and smiled. He nodded in thanks to the man and sat down. “If you are willing to listen, I have another tale of the Devil, this one set in the town of Lubin in the Kingdom of Poland. This time there was physical evidence of the Devil’s presence.”

  At once, the legs of tables and chairs scraped on the stone floor and the men in the room formed a semi-circle around Deek to hear his words. The jug of whiskey was passed over the heads of the men until it reached Deek. He looked to the barman to pay but was told it had been taken care of. Deek said thanks and poured himself a glass as he prepared to tell his tale. Once settled and ready, he began.

  “There was a widow in some small town near Lubin,” he said, “Her husband had passed and left her childless. A nobleman nearby came and offered to buy the land she had been left and at first she was willing to sell. The place was too much for her to handle on her own and she would like to buy somewhere closer to the town she came from much farther to
the south.

  “The price the nobleman offered however was far too low, especially when she considered how much the land would yield to him who had servants and peasants to work it. She refused, saying she needed more. The nobleman was angry and he stormed out.

  “A few days later, a representative of the nobleman arrived at the house and greeted the widow. He said he had a new offer to make and she invited him in. However, to her surprise this offer was even lower than the first one!”

  “Typical,” someone said and murmurs of agreement flitted about the room. “Same the world over!” someone else said. Deek chuckled at this and took a sip of his drink.

  “As you would expect, the widow sent this man away too with a firm no. She was very upset by the whole thing but it was about to get worse for her.

  “The next night, she woke up to loud noises in her yard. She ran to the door and saw three men making off with her chickens and a pig. She screamed after them but they just kept on running. The night after this she woke to a great crackling noise and she was very lucky that it had been so loud for her house was on fire and had the splintering wood not woken her she would have died in her bed that night!”

  “Bastard!” someone called off the nobleman.

  “Indeed,” Deek agreed nodding. “So, her house and her livestock were gone. She took her case to the city court but her case was thrown out when the heft of the nobleman's purse appeared.

  “Infuriated, the widow did not stop here; there was one further court she could appeal to- the Crown Tribunal in Lubin, and this is what she did. It was to be no better for her, however. Once more, she told her case and how she had been treated and once more the nobleman—in person this time—took out his purse and the case was decided in his favour.

  “As you can imagine the widow was furious and she shouted out that even ‘the Devil would have given a fairer verdict!’ The judges and the nobleman laughed at her and they left to have dinner.

  “That night, at the stroke of midnight the widow was awoken in her lodgings and a cloaked man bade her to come back to the courthouse, her case was to be heard again with a new judge. Though she thought the hour odd, she was happy at the turn of events and she went willingly.

  “Huge dark horses, puffing hot steam in the cold night arrived outside the courthouse each carrying a similarly cloaked man, imposing and solemn in all black. The nobleman had been roused from his bed too and he looked about the courtroom in fear as the men gathered.

  “Then at the top of the room a new judge entered, he was monstrous in size and the top of his cloak pointed up slightly at the front. Red eyes glowered from the dark of the hood and the widow knew at once it was the Devil himself.

  “The case was heard again, the widow defended by the cloaked men and the nobleman could only jabber in fear his defence; he knew his money was no good here now. When the case was heard, the judge stood and looked at both the widow and the nobleman before awarding the case to the widow. The nobleman was to pay her a huge sum and have her house restored and her livestock replenished.

  “The nobleman started to protest but the judge slammed his hand down on the bench and shouted, ‘Do you dare question me?’ The nobleman cowered away and shook his head, unable to speak in his fear.

  “Some people say that the statue of Jesus on the crucifix in the court was then so ashamed that the Devil had given the fair verdict in the case that it turned its face away and shed tears of blood. I do not know about that part, when I was there it looked like any crucifix I have ever seen. However, what I saw on the bench really stuck with me.

  “You will recall that the Devil slammed his hand down on his bench in anger?” the crowd nodded and said yes to Deek’s question.

  “Well, there, and it is still there to this day, the bench held the handprint of the Devil scorched deep into the wood. No man would have been able to lay a print in such hard wood as this and yet there it is as clear as anything. I couldn’t believe it when I first saw it and I will never forget it. It is physical proof of the Devil,” Deek finished sounding amazed at the memory of seeing it some fifteen years previously.

  Chapter 36

  The death of Sheriff Dunbar had hit James hard. Though he’d never had any real professional respect for the man, James had known Dunbar was a decent man at heart. It was sad to see him killed in such a fashion and left for all to see on the streets of the city. It hadn’t escaped James’ notice that the site of the death was the same place Thomas Olocher’s chewed up remains had been found.

  Much to James’ surprise, Alderman Aldershot did not come to James to ask any questions or look for any insight into the death of the Sheriff. This was extremely odd behaviour and made no sense at all. The only thing James could think was that Aldershot was not doing his job at all, as he’d feared would be the case.

  James himself had spent the previous three evenings running over his files and papers from the ‘Shadow of the Dolocher’ case searching for clues to the real identity of the killer. He hadn’t come up with much but he felt sure there was something in there, something that had been overlooked or some puzzle pieces he’d yet to see clearly. Part of him felt he should be out on the streets at night as he was when he was Alderman, but he knew in his heart that he was being more productive going through the old papers.

  Then he would second guess himself when he thought about what had come about from his patrolling the streets in the past. Yes, many nights he would come up empty, but sometimes he hit the jackpot. Had he not chased Cleaves—the Dolocher himself—one night? Had he had been on hand when Mullins finally caught him? Had he not come across young Mary Sommers and found Thomas Olocher all those years ago? Those things had been what made him go on; to keep walking the streets endlessly when there was a killer about. It only took one moment for him to be in the right place at the right time. The pity was that there were so many nights in between where nothing happened at all.

  A gentle rap on the door disturbed his thoughts,

  “Come,” James said knowing it was the butler. Was there someone at the door? He hadn’t heard it.

  “Sir, a Mr Ripley is here to see you.”

  “Ripley?” James said, who on earth was this? He was about to send the butler back to ask what this was about when he realised who it was had come to see him. “Send him up right away,” James said, “And have some tea and sandwiches sent up too.”

  “Very good, Sir,” the butler bowed and left the room.

  A minute later, the Secretary to the Mayor stood in James' living room. James could tell by his face that this was not a pleasant visit to make. His face was grey and he looked extremely tired.

  “Have you heard the news?” he asked and James could hear the desperate hope in the man’s voice. He wanted James to already know what he came to tell him, didn’t want to be the one to pass it on.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” James said growing grave and feeling nauseous himself. He didn't know why but terrible worry came over him, something he could not place. There were no loved ones or anything like that who may have been killed or in an accident.

  “The Alderman has been murdered!” Ripley cried out.

  For the oddest moment in his life James felt like he was hearing about his own death and his mind went blank. He didn’t know what to make of it, but quickly he snapped back to himself and knew it was Aldershot who had been killed.

  “Murdered?” he asked in surprise, “By who?” Ripley shook his head in sorrow,

  “We don’t know,” he said.

  “Where was he murdered?”

  “In his home, one of his servants found him with his throat slit in his study.”

  “Good God!” James exclaimed. “Did the killer leave anything behind?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ripley said, and here he hesitated a little before making a visible effort to compose himself. “The Mayor has asked for you to go and look at the scene of the crime.” James looked at Ripley, startled even more by this than by the news of the dea
th of Aldershot.

  “He wants me to investigate?” James asked to be sure he wasn’t taking it up wrong. Ripley nodded,

  “Yes, he wants you to fill the role again while a replacement is being sought.” James sat back and shook his head. Even in this time of need, Wallace was still insulting him!

  “So he needs me to help out while he’s stuck,” James said sarcastically.

  “He asks that you be a good citizen in His Majesty’s Empire!” Ripley said leaping to the defence of his superior.

  “And then scuttle off once I’m done?” James said; he did not want an argument with Ripley but he also didn’t want to be working under the idea that he was still being fired.

  “It is your duty, Sir!” Ripley said rising to leave. James looked at him coldly,

  “My duty is to the people of this city,” he said, “That was who I was trying to serve when I was pushed out!”

  “Your duty is to the Mayor,” Ripley said in a frosty tone of his own, “You’re expected at Mr Aldershot’s house this evening.”

  “I’ll be there,” James said. “Do I have the powers of the Alderman while I do this work?”

  “You are reinstated as of this meeting,” Ripley said, “Use this time to try and salvage your name, Mr James. Good Evening.”

  James held his tongue and merely nodded goodnight to the Mayor’s representative, not even standing to see him out. So there it is, he thought, Alderman again just like that. Even Edwards could not have gotten his job back for him that quickly. He headed upstairs to get dressed. Though he had not liked the man at all, this murder felt like an affront to James as it been an attack on the office of Alderman. Slitting a man’s throat in his own home, how base. He felt it was going to be a long evening.