The Light Beneath the Cauldron Page 9

  “I can’t claim credit for that alone,” he said, “Everyone here has been taking turns looking after you. I have your money in a separate pouch here,” he said as he bent down to retrieve it from under his pie cart. Mary took it from his hands absently looking at the stall.

  “Thanks for that, Simon,” Kate said, “Mary and myself are going to work the stall today.”

  “Very good,” he nodded moving out from behind the stall. “Let me know if you need any help.”

  “You’re very kind,” Kate said smiling when Mary didn’t respond to him. Simon took one more look at Mary’s face and then moved away with his cart.

  “Come on, Mary,” she said then, “We have work to do.”

  Customers started to come over, but in between were the other stall hands and market people and they all had a kind word for herself and Mary or a memory of Sarah they wanted to share. Mary wept often and Kate joined her from time to time. As painful as all of this was, Kate thought it was the best thing Mary could be doing right now, and Kate felt she was benefiting from it herself.

  Then things took a turn for the worse.

  A man whose face Kate recognised as a customer of the market stumbled into the stall jarring his thigh against the corner.

  “Feck it,” he said rubbing at the pain. He was clearly very drunk and he looked over the vegetables before looking up to Mary and Kate as if he hadn’t been able to find them. “I want to make a stew,” he slurred with the look of a man who just recalled why he was here.

  “What do you want in it?” Kate asked with a smile readying herself to pick what he asked for. He looked to the stall and then back to her face. Now his expression was one of deep concentration and Kate wondered if he was so drunk that he had forgotten again where he was and why he was here. Then a sneer came over his face and he tossed his head back in disdain,

  “I don’t want the likes of you touching anything I’m going to eat!” he snarled. Kate was completely taken aback by this and for a moment, she was speechless. The man took a step back and raised his voice, “A fuckin’ prostitute selling vegetables!” Kate felt her face flush and burn and now it was her turn to look down to avoid those eyes that might fall on her. Though it was no secret to most people what she used to do for a living, it was something no one had ever said to her since marrying Tim. Her shame felt like a heavy rock in her stomach but she had nothing to say back to him in her defence. But Mary did.

  “How dare you speak to her like that!” Mary said, her angry voice shocking Kate and most probably everyone else who was in earshot. The man looked now to Mary but did not reply yet. He was swaying gently. Mary came around the side of the stall and Kate made a grab for her arm but missed.

  “What are you doing Mary?” she asked fretfully.

  “I’m talking to you,” Mary said coming up to the man and poking him hard in the check with one finger.

  “Don’t you dare touch me,” he said in indignation.

  “Mary, come on back here,” Kate said starting to come around after her.

  “You say sorry!” Mary shrieked and the ringing sound of the slap she levelled on his face sang out loudly. Kate got to her just after this moment and grabbed her pulling her away lest the man retaliate. As it happened, however, the slap to his face was too much for his already overworked drunken balance and he keeled over sideways landing heavily in the muddy ground.

  A cheer went up from some people. Others laughed and some faces looked on in shock. Kate met eyes with Simon and beckoned him over.

  “I’m going to get Mary home for some tea,” she said, “Can you look after here again?”

  “Of course,” he said all the time looking at Mary. He was clearly stunned by both what he’d seen and heard. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, Mary,” he said smiling. Kate grinned at this and started to lead Mary away.

  “Come on,” she said, “Don’t mind that idiot.” Mary stormed away at the first nudge and Kate had to run a little catch up with her. The man lay flailing on the ground trying to get back up. Even if he couldn’t recall this event himself when he sobered up, there was no way anyone around here was ever going to let him live it down.

  As Kate walked back home with Mary her shame had abated somewhat and was giving way to admiration for Mary. She’d never seen the girl stand up for herself in such a way and she was very proud of her. That fact that it was in defence of herself also made her feel warm inside. It was good to know how much people cared about you sometimes.

  Chapter 28

  “Tell us another one about the Devil,” a man called from the back of the room. All eyes fell on Daniel Deek, the obvious subject of the call. The tall Prussian had been in only fifteen minutes and sat by the fire sipping his drink. As yet he hadn’t spoken to anyone save to order. At first, he made no indication he’d head the request. His eyes remained fixed on the dancing flames. The room went mostly silent as people waited for his response, should there be one. Deek waited for almost half a minute—an eternity to those waiting—before looking up to see the man who spoke.

  “Has this very place not got tales of the Devil of its own?” he asked, “I've heard that two notorious killers in this city in the last ten years frequented this place.”

  “No one knew what those men were up to at the time!” the keeper of the whiskey cabin called out defensively. “They wouldn’t have been here, otherwise,” he added in a lesser tone. Deek looked at him and nodded and then looked around the room slowly, taking in the faces of all the men who looked on him so eagerly.

  “Who is to say a new Devil is not in this place with us at this very moment?” he said with a wry smile. Nervous laughter greeted this from some of the men but the truth of what Deek said made most nervous and they looked around at one another perhaps seeking out a guilty face.

  “We can only pray that’s not the case,” the keeper sad clearly unhappy with the direction of the conversation.

  “The Devil is not swayed by the prayers of man,” Deek said, “They only serve to show him a man’s individual weaknesses.”

  “I’m glad I don’t pray, so!” someone said and laughter filled the room. Deek smiled too; glad to see the men less nervous now. When it quietened down and still the eyes were on him he said,

  “Let me tell you about the Light Beneath the Cauldron.”

  There was a clatter of stool and chair legs and everyone repositioned themselves for the eagerly awaited tale. Word had spread of Deek and his beliefs and some of the people here were seeing him for the first time, glad that they had come on this particular evening.

  “Don’t be too excited,” Deek held up a warning hand. “This is not a tale like the others. The Light Beneath the Cauldron is the kind of man the Devil loves best in this world.” This warning didn’t seem to worry anyone and the last of them got comfortable to listen to what Deek was about to say.

  “This man, he could be anyone, in any walk of life. He does not need much power to do what the Devil loves. He may have power over only one person but usually it is more, and in some instances can be much more.”

  “What does he do with this power?” the keeper asked.

  “He is cunning, manipulative and conniving,” Deek said, “He is the man who causes panic in a crowd to see the reaction. He is the man that lets loose rumours of infidelity to see the husband beat the wife, or worse.”

  “There’s more than a few people like that around,” someone said.

  “Yes, and that is the point. Each one of these men, sometimes women too, is working towards the Devil’s goals. They think they have their own reasons, perhaps revenge or justice, but really they make sport to entertain Satan.”

  Looking around the room, he could see the unease in some of the men. They could see themselves in what Deek was saying and they didn’t like how it felt. Deek knew it was understandable in the minds of people from poor places such as this that they were just living life and venting when they needed to. He knew better, however, knew the seed of evil contai
ned in all these small acts grew into something bigger. In Dublin, it had grown into one of the purest forms of evil, men who killed over and over again, and a populace both terrified and enthralled at once. Though no one would ever admit it, most of the people here, Deek felt, secretly waited with glee for the next murder—so long as neither they nor anyone they cared about was the victim. How could the Devil not win out in the place filled with men of this heart?

  “So what can we do about this?” someone asked.

  “There is only one way to stop the cauldron from boiling over,” Deek said his face a mask of sincerity, “Extinguish the light below.”

  With this, he turned back and faced into the fire. The men in the room looked at one another and shrugged.

  “I suppose he’s not in the mood for telling stories tonight,” one man said and after a moment more waiting to see if Deek was going to speak again, everyone started to go back to their original positions and conversations. Deek could only hope he’d given them all something to think about as they lay in bed that night.

  He was thinking about Edwards and the woman down at Wild Boar Hall who told his fortune. Deek had seen how even now, back here in his home city, Edwards was still rattled by what that woman had said, and how Deek had spoken to him as well. Images of the night he followed Edwards into the church and found him praying in trembling fear also spoke volumes of the work this man was doing on behalf of the Devil. How long would it be before this light was extinguished?

  Chapter 29

  “Alderman James,” Edwards said rushing into the room, “This is outrageous! I can assure you I’ll do all I can to get you reinstated.” James nodded,

  “Not Alderman, now,” he said with a pasted on smile.

  “You will be again, however, I’ll make sure of it,” Edwards said taking the hand James offered him.

  “Why don’t you sit down and have a glass of something to even your temper,” James said. He was happy inside at Edwards’ reaction. He had thought it possible Edwards wouldn’t care in the least what had happened to him and it was a pleasant surprise to be wrong.

  “What reason did Wallace give you?” Edwards asked when they were sitting over a glass of sherry each.

  “The Mayor believes I was incompetent in letting Gaspard Delacroix escape and even more so in not capturing him swiftly,” James said in almost a sigh.

  “Incompetent? Coming from Wallace!” Edwards let out a sneering laugh. “He’s appointed a man who probably doesn’t even know his way home without his carriage as your successor!”

  “Mr Aldershot came to see me,” James said.

  “And?”

  “Well, he looked a little overwhelmed with the amount of paperwork that came with that one case,” James couldn't fully stifle his smile.

  “Idiot,” Edwards said.

  “Where did you hear my news?” James asked after a long pause.

  “In the club,” Edwards said, “I couldn’t believe it. I’ve just come from there now.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s any need to ask how you only came to find out today,” James said smiling.

  “Well, Alderman,” Edwards smiled back, “Is that a sense of humour cracking through your polished exterior? Perhaps we should have gotten you out of that job much sooner.”

  “Perhaps.” James allowed a smile. “I appreciate you offering to aid me, Mr Edwards, but I also want to let you know that I am not giving up on the search for this killer even if I am not reinstated.” As James said this, he had to wonder if he did want to be reinstated at all. Edwards beamed at this,

  “I’m very glad to hear it, Alderman—which I shall continue to call you.”

  “I must inform you, however, that I will be following a line of enquiry by which I deem Spencer to have been falsely imprisoned.”

  “Still on that one, eh?” Edwards said, “Fine, you lead the way. Tell me what I need to know.” He sat back in his chair and folded his legs, looking eager.

  “First I will tell you what I believe,” James said. “Someone set up Spencer for the murders. I now know that there was indeed a real person with his face painted red tormenting him and driving him insane. This person is the real killer. He took a break—for what reason I am not sure yet, perhaps he was out of the country—and then once Gaspard had been arrested for his murders our man got ready to start again. Gaspard escaped and the man decided this was the perfect time to kill again while all the focus was on the Frenchman.” Edwards nodded,

  “I suppose it’s plausible,” he said, “Not very likely though?” he suggested.

  “I think it is. Spencer believed whoever was setting him up was a member of your Hellfire Club,” James said, “Now I don’t know if he was on to something in this or not.”

  “Doubtful,” Edwards said.

  “Still, if you were to find something out about a club member would you be willing to pass it on to me?” James looked at Edwards’ face for the truth in his answer.

  “If I think someone is involved in murder, I will.” James imagined this was the best he was going to get, or should have expected from Edwards.

  James had come to see over the last few years that these clubs, especially the Hellfire Club were not the tight knit fraternities he’d once imagined them to be. Now what he saw was a tangle of egotistical men, each out for himself and any pleasure he could gain from the notoriety of society memberships. From what he knew of Edwards, he did not think of him as any different.

  “As I say, I am yet to be convinced of this speculation by Spencer. I am looking back over the files and looking for new ideas. If you should think of anything, or recall anything no matter how small I trust you will let me know?”

  “Of course.” Edwards said smiling. “This takes me back to the start, Alderman, the thrill of the chase.”

  “Let’s hope it is a chase that will have an ending very soon,” James said, “If I’m right it’s already been going on for such a long time.”

  As hard as it would be to admit to the people how wrong he’d been, he felt it would be much easier to do with his hands on the collar of the real killer. It was going to be hard though, he knew that. Whoever this was, he was clever, strong and determined. Everything James knew about him was through the killers own design, thus making it all almost worthless. He had no suspects, no real ones anyway, and no new evidence to go on. And yet he was wilfully optimistic about it. Something inside told him he was finally on the right track. At the end of the line was the man who had evaded him so far. When they met, James would make sure it ended once and for all.

  Chapter 30

  Steven Olocher paced the study in Edwards' house for hours. He was still at it when Edwards got home that evening having spoken to former Alderman James. Edwards stood at the door a moment looking at him but Olocher kept pacing without speaking.

  “What has you so agitated?” Edwards asked crossing the room to the drinks cabinet.

  “He’s still not dead,” Olocher answered wondering how Edwards could be so unconcerned about it. Now he stopped and looked at his mentor for some kind of facial reaction. Edwards stood there a moment with a crystal drinks bottle ready to pour and a look of consideration on his face. Then he shrugged and poured.

  “I don’t suppose he will die now,” he said.

  “What?”

  “He’s tough, if the poison hasn’t killed him by now it probably won't.”

  “He’d going to wake up again?”

  “I imagine so,” Edwards said taking a drink, “We will have to see what state he is in when he does, however.”

  “You think he’ll be permanently damaged?” Olocher asked hopefully.

  “It must do something to him,” Edwards answered, “Even if it only slows him down.”

  “Muc slower is still dangerous,” Olocher pointed out.

  “You worry too much about these things,” Edwards said crossing the room once more, this time to sit behind his desk.

  “Muc is a lot to worry about,” Olocher said
, “He could ruin everything if he wanted to.”

  “You think he would tell James what he knows about you?”

  “I think he could tell James what he knows about you?” Olocher said hoping to ruffle Edwards a little.

  “It’s unfortunate Muc didn’t die with the poison, but he’s not indestructible.”

  “So how do we kill him?” Olocher said, this is what he’d been ruminating on all afternoon. He had even thought of sneaking into the blacksmiths’ house where Muc was being cared for and killing him in his sleep. It wasn’t very honourable but then neither was poisoning the man.

  “Any way we can,” Edwards nodded as though this was not his idea and he was only agreeing with it.

  “So he is our focus now? Nothing can happen until he is out of the picture.”

  “I don’t think so,” Edwards answered after a slight pause. “Things with the Mayor are messy. I’m not sure what kind of time we have before James loses interest. He is still rearing to catch you right now but who knows how long that will last if I can't get him his job back quickly.

  “I don’t think we can do anything with Muc still alive,” Olocher said again, he didn't care too much about James being involved save the revenge for his father. What Olocher wanted was to release something else passed down from his father, a darkness that had been awoken and a terrible desire to kill. He didn’t like the complications of Muc’s knowledge and regretted not killing him much earlier at the end of his training.

  “We can, and we will,” Edwards said. Olocher felt a flash of anger and stared at Edwards a moment, a moment in which he would have dearly liked to kill him. But no, that would not do. Not now at least. “You should be more eager to get things running again, anyway,” Edwards said to him.

  “Why?”

  “Once this is over, you will be free to do as you will. Your ‘darkness’ can run riot, unrestricted. I’ve had you trained physically and I have educated you. You can go anywhere and do anything now. Imagine that freedom.” His words were persuasive and something stirred deep in Olocher at them, at this vision of the future. He saw a large city, he didn’t know where but he was there and so many opportunities were also there. Edwards would be long gone by then.