The Light Beneath the Cauldron Page 8

  As he walked away, he closed his eyes and soaked in the chaos and the murder and he loved it. How had he let it go so long? How had he not indulged in London, even once? Right now as Sam Speer lay taking his final breaths Adams didn’t understand it at all.

  Chapter 24

  It was much too soon for James to be back in the anteroom of Mayor Wallace’s office and it was disturbing him at a time when he should be out investigating the executioners murder. James was frustrated as he waited to be called in to the office. What rot was Wallace going to spew this time, he wondered as he tried to think ahead to what he should do later to bring the case forward.

  The door shot open and Wallace stood there fuming. The door opening had startled his Secretary and he stood quickly to attention. It was clearly a very rare thing for the Mayor to come to his own door. The Secretary was about to speak when Wallace said,

  “In here, now!” to James and stormed back into the office. James felt his face flush and anger rise in him; he’d never been spoken to in such a way in his life. Drawing in a deep breath to calm himself he walked in after the Mayor.

  “Don’t bother shutting the door, you won't be in here long,” Wallace said but James closed it quietly all the same. He wasn’t willing to give the Secretary the satisfaction of hearing what went on.

  “You summoned me?” James said in as normal a tone as he could manage.

  “I didn’t know if you’d have the guts to show your face here today,” Wallace said scowling at James.

  “It is part of my duty to come here when summoned,” James said holding back his tone.

  “Duty,” Wallace said with disdain, “Well, it’s my duty to make sure public officials under my command are doing their job!” James bit the inside of his lip to stop from answering. “Well, have you nothing to say for yourself?” Wallace shouted.

  “We are following—”

  “We nothing!” Wallace practically shrieked now, “You! You are failing miserably! The executioner murdered and still you do nothing!”

  “I am working day and night on this case!” James retorted unable to hold in his frustrations any longer.

  “Doing what! There is no sign of Gaspard; he must be out there somewhere laughing his French head off at us!”

  “Gaspard is long gone from Ireland,” James said barely managing to stop himself calling the Mayor a fool at the end of the sentence. “Someone else is carrying out these murders.”

  “Who?” Wallace said stumped for a moment, and then catching himself, “What do you mean Gaspard is gone? No one had informed me of such a thing.”

  “I think these murders are being carried out by the same person who perpetrated the Spencer murders,” James said. Wallace looked at him a moment like he had gone crazy.

  “Spencer is dead,” he said flatly as though James might not be aware of the fact.

  “I don’t think he committed the murders attributed to him,” James said calmly. Wallace looked down at his desk and shook his head.

  “This is the final straw, James,” he said still not looking up.

  “Sir?” James asked unsure what he meant.

  “As of this moment you are to be relieved of your duties. You are no longer the Alderman of the Liberties and environs. The King thanks you for your service and my Secretary will be in touch about your pension.” Wallace's eyes looked furious but somehow like he was looking through James.

  For his part, James was completely stunned. This was not an outcome he had foreseen, despite the furious tirades of Wallace in the past. He had always assumed this man was just something to be endured and then he could get back on with his work. That was how he felt coming in here today but how had it come out like this? Dismissed? Him? Shame pierced his soul and his face reddened.

  “On what grounds do you dismiss me?” he demanded of the Mayor.

  “Negligence of Duty,” Wallace said slowly seeming to take pride in it. “I will put a man on this job who will get to the bottom of it in no time,” he added.

  “Who?” James asked, he couldn’t think of anyone else suited to the job at that moment.

  “That is none of your concern. Now if you will excuse me,” Wallace waved his hand, “You have taken up enough of my time.” James looked at Wallace coldly one last time but made no reply before turning and walking out of the room. He didn’t close the door behind him, nor did he even glance in the direction of the Secretary on his way out. When he hit the air, his head was already swimming and he could make sense of nothing. He walked on.

  “Alderman James,” a voice called to him and James looked to see his carriage had pulled alongside him. “Can I take you somewhere?” James stared at the driver, and he heard him say the word Alderman once more. It was at that moment when he felt for the first time that this title had been lost to him forever. His throat caught and he knew he would not be able to reply verbally. He shook his head and waved the carriage away, turning himself back to walking as he did lest his driver see the first tear that creeped out of the corner of his eye and began its slow descent down his cheek.

  Chapter 25

  The whiskey cabin thrummed in the early evening and all the talk was of the murder of the executioner and the subsequent sacking of Alderman James. Neither man was loved in this area of the city but shock greeted both the revelation of who the executioner was and also of a public official being dismissed in such a fashion.

  “Maybe old Wallace does give a shit after all,” one man said to no one in particular. A few near him nodded in agreement. It was possible.

  Lord Muc was one of those who didn’t think so, and also one of those who had been most surprised by James getting the boot. He was deep in thought about Speer’s death when Mullins arrived in front of his table.

  “Are you having another one?” the blacksmith asked and Muc looked up at him,

  “I thought you had a curfew these days,” he smiled.

  “Two jugs over here,” Mullins said sitting down. The smell of ash and wood fire drifted from his tired body, his muscles still taut from work.

  “What do you think of your pal the Alderman getting turfed out?” Muc said.

  “It’s not the best news I’ve ever heard,” Mullins said, “He was reasonable.” Muc rubbed the side of his nose recalling the time James had popped him in the face with his cane. A smile came over his face at the memory.

  “I suppose he was,” he agreed.

  “Any word on who will replace him?”

  “No,” Muc shook his head, “But you can be sure he’ll come in like a bull about these murders.”

  “I still can’t believe Speer was the executioner,” Mullins said, “I drank with him many a time.” He looked up at Muc, “I suppose you knew?” Muc nodded,

  “Of course I did,” he said, “Every man moves differently if you look close enough. Sure isn’t that how I caught Gaspard, the bastard.”

  “You have a gift,” Mullins said sarcastically.

  “Bollocks,” Muc retorted, “I’m just observant.”

  The boy arrived down with their jugs and Mullins tipped him a small coin and he rushed away nodding in thanks.

  “Do you think it will make any difference in catching Gaspard?” Mullins said after they had both taken a draft of the fresh drinks.

  “Gaspard is long gone,” Muc said, “I don’t know why anyone would think any different.” He took another long pull on his whiskey and Mullins assumed he was getting ready to leave.

  “Who else would be killing like this then?” Mullins asked looking down into his jug. When the gap between his question and Muc’s answer grew too long he looked up at the former gang leader and it was clear at once something was very wrong. “Muc?” Mullins said gripping Muc’s arm. Muc barely felt the powerful hand on him or heard the voice attached to it. His breath was suddenly becoming hard to manage and his eyes swam and his hearing lost all focus. He felt hot and itchy all over and there was a very strange taste in his mouth. He tried to get up but his legs seemed to bel
ong to someone else and he stumbled onto the table top. He thought he heard someone say his name as if from far away. He tried to answer but his tongue felt like it had swelled to three times its normal size and in his head he heard some dulled mumble for his voice.

  A face came into view for a moment and though he knew he recognised it, he could not place it just then. Lord Muc’s eyes began to close and then fell completely; he had not even the power to hold his eyelids up. The noise went on getting fainter and fainter.

  Had he not fallen unconscious from the poison he’d taken in with his last few mouthfuls of whiskey, Muc would have known that it was Mullins who was pulling at him and calling his name. The whole cabin had gone silent and watched in awe as Mullins lifted Muc from his seat and rushed outside with panic scarred on his face. He lay Muc down on the cold ground and loosened his clothes when he felt the heat of the victim’s body.

  “Muc!” he called out sensing the crowd gathering around him but not looking up to see their gawking faces. “What the fuck is wrong with ya’!”

  “His face is going purple,” someone noted unhelpfully and to this someone added,

  “His neck is the same.” Mullins didn’t know what was coming over him but he knew his anger when it begin to rise. He stood and turned on the group with his fists balled,

  “I assume one of your lot is on his way running for a doctor by now?” he asked menacingly. Three different men started running to do just that and the rest of the group looked down at the ground and hoped Mullins’ ire would not fall on their heads tonight.

  Mullins turned back to Muc and looked at the spreading purple hue and knew there was nothing he could do about it. If a doctor didn’t get here soon Muc would be gone. Mullins hadn’t known how much Muc’s friendship had come to mean to him over these last years until this moment.

  “Hang in there you old swine,” he said gripping Muc’s lifeless hand, “We still have to have that scrap, you and I.” Muc’s breath grew more and more shallow. Mullins thought this was the end and one that no one in the city would ever have predicted for Lord Muc.

  Chapter 26

  “See him in,” James said to his butler when the man told James who was here to see him. It had only been two days since James had been dismissed from his post and he’d spent most of that time wallowing in his study by the fire. Shocked by what had happened and too ashamed to show his face in the streets. How had this happened? This was not how his life was supposed to wind up. He’d never thought he would leave the Alderman job save when he decided to. True he had been long thinking about leaving but the ignominy of being fired! That was something he couldn't live with. In his weakest moment deep in the previous night, and with some brandy warming his belly he swore revenge on Wallace. But what could James do that could be of any significant concern to the Mayor?

  Now the new Alderman, his replacement, had come to see him. He didn’t know who it was and the butler had only announced him as the ‘New Alderman’ as instructed. In this James knew already this was one of Wallace’s cronies and distaste for whoever it was had already formed.

  “Mr James,” a tall man with black hair and a dour face said on entering the room (without knocking, James noted). He had his hand out and James stood up to shake it. The handshake was weak and the man looked about the room as it took place, something else to irk James

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr?” James paused for the name to be supplied.

  “Aldershot,” he said looking back at James now. “New Alderman Aldershot,” he added.

  “Congratulations on your new role,” James said.

  “Thank you, I’m sorry to be taking over in such circumstances,” Aldershot said. James didn’t think he was in the least sincere.

  “You’ll be wanting the files on the current cases, I assume,” James said turning to his desk.

  “Yes, that’s why I am here.”

  “Those five boxes in the corner are all related to Gaspard Delacroix,” James said pointing, “I can have my staff carry them to your carriage for you.”

  The look of surprise on Aldershot’s face warmed James’ heart.

  “All those for only the Gaspard case?” he asked incredulous.

  “These and two more at the Sheriff’s office,” James informed him happily. He could see the regret in the man’s face at taking the job now. “I wish you luck in finding Gaspard,” he said.

  “Thank you,” the new Alderman answered absently. James wondered if Wallace had told him about James’ assertions that Gaspard was gone and an older killer long at large was committing the recent murders. If not, James was not going to mention it. He wanted to keep the papers from the ‘Shadow of the Dolocher’ murders so he could continue working on proving Spencer's innocence. That was assuming Edwards was still willing to help him out.

  James had not seen or heard from Edwards since his firing. He was under no doubt that Edwards would already know about it but he was a hard man to predict and he could be on some weeklong bender for all James knew.

  James rang the bell.

  “Can I offer you some coffee, or something else?” he asked Aldershot.

  “No, thank you,” he replied, “It looks like I have some work to do.” James nodded and a servant appeared at the door.

  “Can you have these boxes brought down to the Alderman’s carriage, please.” The servant nodded and came in to take up the first of the boxes. Aldershot looked on still in a state of bewilderment James thought.

  “Any tips for the role?” Aldershot asked when the servant left the room.

  “Get in amongst the people,” James said in earnest, “Gain their trust from the start. They are good people and if you treat them right they will treat you the same when the time comes you are looking for information.”

  The look Aldershot gave at this made James feel he thought he was joking. It was very clear that this man was going to make a very unsuccessful Alderman.

  “I won’t be mixing with those lowlife’s,” he said with disdain, “I plan to catch this French menace quickly and then get on with things.”

  “You must do the job in the way you think best,” James said. The servant came in for the last two boxes.

  “Well, I better be off,” Aldershot said, “It seems I have a lot of reading to do to get caught up with the case.” James was surprised he was going so soon, especially seeing as he had not asked him anything about his work on the case so far. He didn’t like the man however, and knowing he was chasing a long gone ghost, he didn’t want to detain him any longer.

  “Of course,” James said, “It was a pleasure meeting you and I wish you all the best in the future.”

  “Likewise,” Aldershot said shaking his hand. He said goodbye then and was gone out after the servant.

  James went to the window and looked out at him getting into the carriage. What hope was there for the people of the Liberties if this was who was sent to defend them, he thought.

  “I hope you are a good friend of Wallace,” James said, “For if not yours will be a very short tenure as Alderman indeed.”

  Sitting back by the fire, James realised that he had gone through some kind of rejuvenation since Aldershot had come. He got up, went to his desk and took out the papers he’d been reading a few days earlier about last year’s murders. Whatever shot in the arm he’d received it was spurring him on now and he was more determined than ever to solve the case.

  He may no longer be the Alderman but he still cared about the people and he knew a few who he could rely on for help if he needed it. He didn’t think about reinstatement, that would only soothe his ego and was probably not what he really wanted. He thought of the satisfaction of bringing everything to a close. Of seeing the smiling faces of people still living, going on about their lives as they used to before the time of Thomas Olocher and all that had followed since.

  That was what James wanted, and what he was determined to see once more.

  Chapter 27

  The morning was bright and dry
and Kate thought it time for Mary to get back out into the world. Each day and night all Mary did was cry in her bed or sit looking blankly out the window or into the crackling fire. She helped with housework and cooking as much as Kate allowed but there was no life in her work. Kate would try to speak to her and only sometimes did what she say register with Mary and there wasn’t always a response.

  Kate spoke to Mullins one evening and he agreed it would be best to get her back working, if only to take her mind somewhere else for some of the day and to get some fresh air. Mary was resistant to the idea but Kate was persistent and won her over in the end.

  “People will most likely be looking at us,” Kate said as they stepped outside the house, “But don’t mind that.” Mary nodded and looked at the ground; Kate thought she would be like this all the way to the market. It didn’t matter though, she was out and that was what was important. It was as well Mary wasn’t looking around Kate thought when she saw the amount of eyes falling on them as they walked briskly to the stall.

  When they got there, Simon Barnes, the seller of pies, had himself set up by the vegetable stall so that he could work both at once. His face went grey when he saw Mary and Kate arrive.

  “I’m so sorry, Mary,” he said and tears were forming in his eyes. Mary took his hand and squeezed it,

  “Thanks, Simon,” she said, “and thank you for looking after the stall.”