The Light Beneath the Cauldron Page 3

  Once again, it seemed to James that everything was back at square one.

  Chapter 7

  During the trial of Gaspard, Mary and Sarah decided it was time to leave the Mullins’ house so the lovers could live as man and wife in peace once more. As luck would have it, their old rooms on Skippers Lane became available and the landlord was more than happy to take the two girls back in.

  On the day of the execution, the two girls and Kate decided that they would not go. Instead, they planned to have a restful cup of tea and a chat. Everyone else was likely to be at the hanging so there was little sense in opening the vegetable stall until that was all over. It was a rare morning off, and they were all looking forward to it. Kate had made some scones and baked a loaf of bread. Mary stirred the ever present vegetable soup by the fire.

  “It must be happening around now,” Sarah said of the hanging. The streets were eerily quiet.

  “Do you suppose we’ll be able to hear the cheers from here?” Mary asked.

  “I imagine so,” Kate said. They were silent a moment in expectation before Kate added, “Good riddance.”

  The morning passed pleasantly but no sign of the cheer they expected came. With the tea gone and time passing Sarah thought it best they set up the stall.

  “I don’t know what's taking so long up there but people should be on their way back by now.”

  “I’ll come help you two set up,” Kate said.

  When they got outside there were noises they hadn’t heard from inside the house. Far off voices were shouting, and though they couldn’t make out the words each of them got the sense of a search taking place. But a search for what? They looked at one another nervously.

  “Come on, we’ll find out soon enough what’s going on,” Sarah said starting off towards the market area.

  Before the stall was set up, the first of the customers started to arrive. Kate wasted no time in finding out what had gone on.

  “What took so long?” she asked one man, “What was all the calling back and forth about?”

  “You haven’t heard?” the man said surprised.

  “Heard what?” Sarah asked him.

  “Gaspard escaped!” he answered gleeful to be telling the news to someone who didn’t know. “He knocked the hangman from the stage, broke his ropes and jumped off on top of the buildings and got away!”

  “Where did they catch him?” Mary asked—there was no missing the hope in her question. The man’s eyes lit up even more at this,

  “They haven’t!” he said, “Not yet anyway,” and then as an aside said, “I don’t think they will. Who could chase him up there only another circus acrobat?” The three girls looked at one another. The man paid for his carrots and walked away, eager to find someone else to tell the news.

  “I’ll go to Tim’s shop,” Kate said, “The market will be filled soon and you’ll be safe here. I’ll see what he says and make sure he’s here to help you close up and see you home later.”

  “Ah, no, Kate, don’t worry,” Mary said, “It will be fine. He’s hardly going to go killing now while he's on the run.”

  “We don’t know anything of the sort,” Kate said and she saw Sarah nod in agreement. Mary looked to her roommate who shrugged and said,

  “Better safe than sorry, until he’s caught.” Mary nodded knowing she was outvoted.

  That evening, Mullins closed the shop early to help the girls. He moved the cart into the storage shed and then walked them to Skippers Lane. At the door, he stopped and said,

  “Why don’t you two come back and stay with us tonight?”

  “Yes, why not?” Kate said. Mary and Sarah looked at one another but it was Mary who spoke first,

  “We’re only after getting out from under your feet. We’ll be fine here. The doors will be locked and the windows closed. There’s a lot of people in the building too.”

  “Yes,” Sarah said though sounding reluctant, “We’ll be fine.”

  In the rooms, that night, Mary and Sarah stayed awake late. They had no candle burning and the fire was down to dying embers as they lay in bed. Each was afraid and listening intently for any noise that was out of the ordinary. It was a long night but both slept in the end.

  When they woke in the morning, there was talk in the streets. The early deliverymen had news and Mary opened up the window to hear it better. Two men spoke below and it was here that she heard about the murder of Marcus Cabinteely in the tower of the ‘Black Dog.’

  She couldn’t believe it and she turned into the room and told Sarah what had happened.

  “So he is killing again!” Sarah said in shock. Mary believed it was Gaspard too, who else could it be? Perhaps they had not been as safe as she had supposed last night after all.

  In that moment, her mind went to Spencer and she felt a pang of sorrow crush though her heart. Though Alderman James insisted Gaspard was not in Ireland at the time, Mary felt he was the one truly responsible for the murders Spencer had been arrested for. Spencer himself had thought it was someone from the Hellfire Club, but this had only been his suspicion and he had no real evidence of this before he was murdered right at the vegetable stall she worked at. Gaspard has been found guilty of that murder and Mary thought it had been a way of silencing Spencer before he found out the truth.

  “Do you think we should ask Kate if we can move back in with them for a while?” Sarah said.

  “No,” Mary said and her steadfastness surprised even herself. “We just have to make sure to come home together after the stall and lock this place up well at night.”

  “Are you sure?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes,” Mary answered in a more pliant tone, “This killer was never actually after me, remember, that was John who was making me scared.”

  “And what about the attack on Kate?” Sarah asked, “That wasn’t John.”

  “No, it wasn’t, but Kate wasn’t targeted either, she just happened to be out that night, looking for me as it happens, and Gaspard saw her and attacked.” Sarah thought about this and nodded, it was true that this man had not actually been targeting any of them.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she said to Mary.

  “I am,” Mary attested and she hoped she was right.

  Chapter 8

  The moon fractured on the sea as cold winds whipped across the water’s surface. It was a cloudless night and bitter as Madame Mel climbed down from her carriage. Out in the bay she saw a lighted ship coming in, a merchant ship that should have arrived earlier in the day. She knew this as it was her profession to know when the ships were coming and going. As the Madame of Dublin’s best known brothel, it was imperative she knew when fresh customers were coming and old ones going.

  The short but hulking frame of her brother stepped from the dappled shadow of a copse of trees. She smiled at him and they embraced. She held him at arm's length and looked him over before asking in French,

  “You are not hurt?” He smiled and batted her hands away gently,

  “I am fine,” he said smiling, “Did you see?”

  “Yes,” she smiled warmly, “I had an amazing view of the whole thing. It was a sight the dull denizens of this city will never be able to dispel from their minds.” Gaspard smiled proudly at his sister’s words. They embraced again and when they parted this time there were tears in Melanie’s eyes.

  “I can come back anytime you need me to,” he said taking both her hands in his own. Though he was gentle, she could feel the terrific power in them.

  “No,” she said composing herself, “You must never come back here. The same trick will not work again and it would kill me to see you hurt. You must go and never come back. We will see one another again someday, back home perhaps.”

  “It is a day I will look forward to,” he said.

  “Before you go,” she said, “You didn’t kill anyone last night did you?” He looked at her with surprise,

  “No, that was no part of your plan, was it?” he sounded unsure.

  “No
, it was not part of the plan,” she said looking out over the water again. The ship was just entering the mouth of the river now.

  “The other man, you think? Olocher?”

  “I think so,” she answered, “Though why last night is a mystery to me. You are being blamed for it, perhaps that was why.”

  “He is good at what he does,” Gaspard said, “And he is getting better.”

  “Yes, last night was very well done.”

  “Who was it?”

  “The man who runs the prison. He killed him in the tower. Got in and out of the prison without being seen or heard too. The body was there all night before it was found in the morning.” Gaspard nodded in appreciation of this. He didn’t know what prison she was talking about but he was sure it would take some level of skill to evade being seen in one.

  “The doctor you spoke of,” he said, “Is he here yet?” Gaspard asked. Melanie nodded,

  “Yes, he saw you today too. He was very impressed.”

  “I would have liked to meet him.”

  “Perhaps you will when this is all over,” she said. Her tone belied what she meant by this. Her mind was not as yet made up on what to do about Adams once everything had come to a head. She had originally hoped he would go back to his new life in London but she didn’t know how much he liked Dublin. Would he want to stay on here? How would that suit her in the future? Could she be fine with him walking around knowing the things he was capable of? These were all questions for another day. “Just make sure you keep me updated with any new address to reach you,” she said. He nodded and smiled at her.

  Looking back out onto the water, Melanie saw a boat coming out of the river and into the bay, she pointed to it,

  “That is for you,” she said, “You better get going.” Gaspard looked out and saw it. He turned back to her,

  “Goodbye for now, sister,” he said and embraced her. Melanie cried more now and patted him on the back.

  “Thank you for everything you have done for me, Gaspard,” she said.

  “I would do anything for you, Melanie,” he said, “Anything.”

  Melanie wept more as he set off down the slope to where his rowboat was waiting. He’d be on the boat leaving Dublin in half an hour and that would be the last the city would ever see of him. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

  Theirs had been a rough upbringing, and when Gaspard killed their father at a young age for a beating he gave the boy, Melanie has protected him, made up a story about thieves coming into the house. She had convinced everyone even at that young age. Getting people to believe what she said was a talent she’d had since childhood. It was for this reason that she knew Gaspard was so loyal to her and why he’d done what he had for her.

  Now she only wanted freedom for him; in a place no one would be looking for him and he could be safe. She wished the best for him, and sincerely hoped he got it.

  Madame Mel watched for a long time and followed his progress out to the boat. Though tiny, she was sure she could make him out getting up into the boat and then waving to her. He would be smiling, she knew that. She waved back unsure if he would still be able to see her. Fresh tears fell and she turned to go back to her carriage.

  “Back to the house,” she called to the driver, “There is a late ship coming in and the girls need to be advised what to do.”

  The carriage rattled over the stones as it made its way back into the city. It would take a while, but she was in no hurry. If some business was lost it was not the end of the world for her. Money was not something she had to worry about at this point in her life. She looked out on the sea once more. Perhaps soon it would be time for her to set sail for somewhere new herself. Who knew what the future would hold.

  Chapter 9

  Mullins watched Larry sifting through the mess of scrap metal in the small yard to the rear of the blacksmith’s. He was wondering what to do about the lad. Larry was a good worker and a nice boy, there was no doubting that, but it was his connection to Madame Mel that troubled Mullins. The brothel owner had been paying for his upkeep and training, but Mullins didn’t like the woman or her blatant sexual attempts at him. Now that it had been revealed that her brother had been the killer who attacked his wife, Kate, he disliked her even more.

  The last two payments, while the trial of Gaspard was ongoing, had come through an intermediary—a young girl maid—but Mullins knew it was only a matter of time before Mel herself would return to make the payments in person. He didn’t think she had anything to do with her brother’s murders but still, it didn’t help how he felt about her.

  The blacksmith had already made his mind to cut ties with Madame Mel, but it was the impact this was going to have on Larry that concerned him now. Mullins could feed him and let him live in the back of the shop but that was not much to the boy over the longer term. In a few years, he would complete his apprenticeship and set out on his own. If all he had at that point were the clothes on his back and a full belly from the last meal Mullins provided, he wasn’t going to get very far.

  Muc had been training the lad in how to look after himself, and that coupled with the work at the blacksmith had made him hard and strong. He’d even grown in height and width since coming to work for Mullins.

  “Too much hard thinking can hurt your brain!” Larry said looking up and seeing Mullins' face. The smile on the boy’s face was completely disarming and Mullins smiled back,

  “Well, that’s not something you'll ever have to worry about!” he said with a laugh.

  Larry carried the odd bits he’d collected and brought them in to work on.

  “Do you ever think about the future, Larry?” Mullins asked him.

  “Not really,” Larry said, and the answer was a little unexpected.

  “You’ll be happy to work as a blacksmith?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Do you think you’ll stay in Dublin?” Mullins asked and this question made Larry turn to look at him.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked looking nervous.

  “No reason,” Mullins assured him, “I was just wonderin’.”” Larry looked at him doubtfully.

  “Do you want me to go?” he asked, “Because of her?”

  “Who?”

  “Madame Mel.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “You don’t like her, I can tell. Every time she comes here it’s like you freeze up,” Mullins blushed at this, “But not like the men who fancy her,” Larry finished. Mullins nodded his head,

  “It’s true,” Mullins sighed, “I don’t like her much. But that has nothing to do with you.”

  “Yeah, but she pays for me to be here doesn’t she?”

  “She does. That’s what I’ve been thinking about.” Larry didn’t say anything to this; he waited for Mullins to go on.

  “I’m going to stop taking money from her for you,” he said and the decision being made had him feel suddenly lighter.

  “What will happen to me?” Larry asked, fear etched in his face at this.

  “You’ll stay here and work with me as before,” Mullins said patting him on the head, “It’ll just mean I have to be a little more careful with my money than usual.” He smiled at Larry who beamed back at him.

  “Thanks, Mullins,” the boy said, “I’ll do whatever you say to make it easier for you.”

  “You won’t be sad Madame Mel won’t be around any more?” Larry shook his head,

  “I’m glad she brought me here and grateful to her for not throwing me out on the street,” he said, “But I never thought she was going to be in my life too much anyway.”

  Mullins nodded on this answer as he stared into the fire.

  “The next time she comes in, I’ll tell her the arrangement is over and you can say thanks and goodbye to her at the same time,” he said, “How does that sound?”

  “That sounds fine,” Larry said, “But...”

  “Yeah?”

  “She won’t try to take me away will she?” he a
sked.

  “I don’t think so,” Mullins said, “But if she does, I won’t let her take you.”

  This seemed to satisfy Larry and a gleaming expression of pride came over his face. Mullins wondered was this the first time in his life Larry felt that anyone actually cared about him. If so, it was a very sad idea indeed.

  “Thanks, Mullins,” Larry said, “I’m lucky this is the place she brought me.”

  “You’re a good lad, Larry. A fine worker and you’ll make a good blacksmith one day too.”

  “Lord Muc says he can’t wait until I’m big and strong enough to fight him,” Larry laughed thinking on his future.

  “That sounds like Muc alright,” Mullins laughed too. It reminded him, though that his own fight with Muc was creeping up on him day by day. Mullins was getting fitter, eating better and drinking less. The bargain had been made and he supposed it would be Muc who decided when he was fit enough for it.

  “Did you ever fight him?” Larry asked.

  “A very small scuffle one night,” Mullins said recalling it, “But it was over very quickly and there wasn’t much to it.”

  “Who won?” Larry’s eyes were alight to the answer.

  “Nobody,” Mullins said, “I shouldn’t have hit him that night and he cracked me back and that was the end of it.”

  “Sounds like he won, then,” Larry said and his grin told Mullins he was poking fun.

  “Let’s see how you get on when you fight him!” Mullins said poking his finger hard into the side of Larry’s ribcage and laughing.