Requiem (The Penny Dreadfuls Book 1) (15 page)

“Please to meet you, Inspector Bradstreet. With respect, Mr. Price should be handling the case, I’m certain this victim is related to the others.”

Bradstreet pulled himself up to his full height, which wasn’t as impressive as he thought it was. “Now, Miss MacLeod, I’m sure you’re quite the little reporter, but this is man’s work. If I need assistance I will ask Inspector Price.”

Chastity glared at him and handed her sketch of the second victim to Price. “Christian, she could be the first victim’s sister. You know they are related.”

Price’s eyebrows rose when he saw the picture. “I have to agree with Miss MacLeod, John. This is my case. I will clear it with the Chief Inspector, but as of now, I’m taking lead. Have a runner send everything you’ve got so far to my office.”

Bradstreet opened his mouth to argue, caught the set of Price’s jaw and nodded. “Fine. It’s a dead end, anyway. You can have an unsolved murder on your desk instead of mine. Good day.”

He glowered at Chastity and walked away.  When he was out of earshot, Price guided Chastity into the alley, out of sight.

“Did you learn anything else from Dr. Perry?”

Chastity sighed and shook her head. “Not much. His report said she was found not far from here at the back of an alley. Someone wrapped her in burlap and left her within the last day or so. I don’t suppose the Particulars did any asking around?”

Price pulled out his own notes. “I spoke with John on the walk over. As usual nobody saw anything. A man named August Baxter found her and reported it to the nearest copper. They tried to identify her and got Bradstreet involved, but that’s about everything they did.”

Chastity stepped away and paced the width of the alley. “Two victims, opposite side of the city…no wait.”

She turned back to Price. “What if the parts found were all from different women? They looked similar, but so did the two victims!”

She pulled a piece of chalk from one of the pouches on her belt and started drawing a crude London map on the alley wall.

“What are you doing?” Price asked.

Chastity wrote the numeral one on the wall, circled it and drew a line. “The first victim was found in Whitechapel. The second in Hyde Park. Then one in the Thames at Billingsgate and now Bethnal Green. I’ve left out Davis, he is an anomaly that just doesn’t fit…”

She connected all the lines and stared at them. There was something familiar about it.

“The Underground.”

Chastity blinked at him. “What?”

“The Underground,” Price repeated. “You wrote an article about it last week. There are incomplete stations near all of those locations. You drew the same map for the article, albeit with more skill.”

Chastity whirled and wrapped her arms around his neck.  “Genius!”

She made a move to kiss his cheek and found her lips meeting his. She gasped in surprise and pulled away. “My apologies, Inspector Price. I got excited.”

Price gave his first genuine smile since she’d met him. “None necessary, I quite understand. Perhaps we should investigate the stations?”

“Mayhap, but there may still be clues to follow.”

She turned toward the mouth of the alley, not stopping until she reached the street, where she looked back over her shoulder. “Coming, Inspector? The game’s afoot!”

THE ALLEY TURNED
out to be one of the narrowest in the city, barely wide enough for two people to stand side by side. It lay between two brick buildings that had once housed the area’s famous weavers, but were now tenanted by half a dozen families. Each. Chastity led the way into the dank, foul-smelling recesses to where the victim had been found. There was little to indicate her resting place, nothing more than a depression in the mud and bits of burlap. Price bent to examine where she’d been placed, but Chastity was examining the walls. The ground was too wet and muddy to provide any clues.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she found it clinging to a cracked brick about four feet above the ground. A piece of old cloth stained brown by blood and age. She used the forceps from the kit Herbert had given her and, with great care, pulled the fabric free. It smelled of oil, wood smoke and death.

“I found something,” she said.

Price looked up. “What?”

Chastity placed the piece of fabric between the pages of her notebook and showed it to Price. “Judging from the type of fabric and discoloration I would say it is a piece of a burial shroud. Given the stench coming off of it I would also hazard a guess it recently spent some time in the Underground.”

Price didn’t look convinced. “How do you know it isn’t just from the burlap she was wrapped in or from some passerby?”

“Passerby? This deep into an alley? I doubt it. And it isn’t burlap. It’s thick cotton, like sailcloth. It had to have come from another source. Like an old grave.”

“Do I want to know why?”

Chastity smiled. “Probably not. Where is the Underground station?”

The station, as it would one day be called, was at present not much more than a series of brick walls and steps leading to a narrow tunnel that would one day connect to the central line. As Chastity recalled from her notes, with the weaving industry waning, the line was unlikely to be completed before the turn of the century and in fact Metropolitan was taking bids to sell the portion under construction. Which meant there were no workmen to object when Chastity used her magik to bypass the lock on the rickety wooden door and led the way into the darkness below.

“That was interesting,” Price said as they descended the narrow steps.

“What?” Chastity asked.

“You know what. You touched the lock and it opened, as if by magic. Who are you, Frank Reno in disguise?”

Chastity looked back over her shoulder. “I don’t know who that is.”

“An American thief and Civil War criminal known for his skill with locks. Never mind,” Price said.

Chastity smiled. “It must have been a bad lock, nothing sinister, Inspector.”

Price shook his head. “I didn’t say it was sinister, I said it was interesting.”

They continued into the gloom below in silence for a time before Price spoke again. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course, Inspector,” Chastity replied.

She heard him take a breath, then “It was you. In Moody’s room a few nights ago, wasn’t it?”

Chastity kept walking. Protocol would be to feign ignorance, but she’d already told him about the Order. It couldn’t get any worse.

“Yes, it was. I’m sorry for that, but I was trying to keep all of this a secret.”

Price was quiet again. The only sound was their breathing and the crumble of soil and rocks as they moved.

“And the masked vigilante street people keep reporting, that’s you, as well?” he asked several minutes later.

Chastity stopped and looked up at him. It was getting too dark to see, anyway. She needed to crack one of Nikola’s torches. “Yes. The other London agents tend to operate more through intermediaries and misdirection than take direct action. I am the exception. I prefer direct action, however as a woman it is necessary to hide my identity and keep to the shadows as much as possible. As such I encounter the other shadows, most of whom have fewer scruples than I.”

Price didn’t answer. She could just see him look at her in the gloom. To break the silence she rummaged in her pouch and produced one of Nikola’s torches. A second later she was looking at Price by the blue glow. He didn’t look any happier than he had in shadow.

“Another of your little toys?” he asked.

Chastity turned away and resumed her pace down the steps. “Something a friend of mine created. I don’t know all the science behind it, but it’s a chemical reaction that creates a small amount of heat and a generous amount of light for a short time. It leaves no residue and drains harmlessly into the ground when discarded. They come in handy.”

“The things you’ve shown me could revolutionize the world,” Price growled. “They shouldn’t be kept secret.”

“Revolutionize it or destroy it,” Chastity replied.

“Do you think this Order of yours has the right to hide their inventions?”

Chastity stopped again. “I most certainly do. Many technologies, though created for benign purposes, can be twisted for more nefarious ones. Take gunpowder. A few hundred years ago it was used in celebrations and to scare away evil spirits. Now it is used primarily to power weapons. And not all who use them are concerned with the greater good.”

They reached the bottom of the steps and walked into the cavernous area that would one day be part of the Underground. Wooden supports held up the distant roof, which was a mixture of wood and soil through which sunlight occasionally peeked. The ragged sides of the tunnel were mostly packed dirt behind wooden retaining walls, and the floor was dirt and mud, depending on where you stood.  None of the gigantic construction scaffolding remained, which gave the whole area a feeling of instability, as if the weight of the world was waiting to come down. It didn’t look like anyone had been within the chamber in a very long time.

Chastity handed her light to Price and cracked another, then started into the tunnel.

“Where are we going?” Price asked.

Chastity shrugged. “Wherever it went.”

Price shined his light around, making the shadows on the wall jump and dance. “How do you know anything came through here?”

“It’s the only thing that makes any sense,” Chastity replied. “No one saw someone carrying a torso or head around the city? Once, perhaps. Twice, in this city anything is possible. Four or five times? I think not. Besides, unless the last worker through here was barefoot and had claws, I think we’re on the right track.”

She shined her light on a spot just behind Price. He turned and knelt to examine the imprints sunk deep into the mud, even reaching out to trace the edge with one finger. The prints were huge, much larger than a normal man, and as Chastity had noted, had left impressions from what could only be claws.

“We didn’t see anything on the steps coming down because it didn’t need them. It jumped,” Chastity said.

Price straightened and loosened his Colt in its holster. “Which begs the question, does it need to walk at all or is it leaving a trail for us to follow?”

Chastity didn’t answer. It was a question she didn’t want to contemplate.

Price walked past her and led the way deeper into the tunnel, alternately checking the way ahead and scanning the mud below to ensure they were following the trail. Whatever they were following moved in an erratic manner, sometimes walking straight, other times meandering around puddles like a lost child.

Chastity heard the noises first. They’d been walking for close to half an hour when she realized she could hear a rhythmic pounding from somewhere behind them, like a man hammering on a recalcitrant bit of plumbing. She stopped and scanned the tunnel behind them, but could see nothing in the glow of her torch.

“Did you hear that?” she asked Price.

“The groaning? Yes, it’s coming from somewhere ahead.”

“No, the pounding, from behind us. Like a workman with a Stilson wrench.”

They turned to look at each other and Chastity strained to hear the sound Price had detected. When she cocked her head she could hear what sounded like a low moan, carried on what air currents there were. By the sound, it was getting closer.

Price drew his Colt and glared into the darkness as if daring whatever was out there to attack him. Chastity drew her blade and led the way deeper into the shaft, being mindful of where she stepped. She wasn’t at all surprised when the sigils on her sword began to glow, casting more light than Nikola’s devices ever could.

“We have guests,” she said in an even voice. “I don’t suppose your revolver is loaded with silver.”

“Of course not. Grade A American lead.”

Chastity rolled her eyes and fumbled in her ammunition pouch. She removed a handful of cartridges and passed them to Price, who looked at them with suspicion.

“It’s a 44 Colt open-top, yes? These are short, but should fit and will do far more damage to what we face than your American lead,” Chastity said.

Price took them and Chastity turned away, keeping her eyes on the darkness around them. Behind her she could hear Price loading the cartridges into his revolver, each one seating with a click that sounded final. When she heard him close the weapon she started walking again, knowing that they were being stalked and it was only a matter of time until whatever lurked in the darkness attacked. As it happened, she didn’t have long to wait. As Price’s torch began to wane, creatures stepped out of the shadows. They were humanoid, but only in that they had two arms, two legs and a head, and more like than not had once been human, but now there skin was hardened and black as a scorpion’s tail. They had small eyes, fang-filled maws and long curving talons that appeared to be dripping with blood.

Chastity swung without hesitation and her sword bit through the nearest one’s neck. Ichor sprayed and covered Chastity’s arm where it began to smoke and burn through the fabric.

“Don’t let their blood get on you. It is unholy!”

Price’s Colt boomed by way of answer and one of the creatures behind them fell, a squeal erupting from its ruined mouth. “Understood. Maybe you should let me go first.”

There was logic in Price’s statement and she would have gladly have accepted were they not surrounded by more creatures than Price could see. Chastity could hear their skin rustling together and their low, tortured moans. There were dozens of things closing in. She stabbed another, kicked its body away, slashed a third and put her back to Price.

“We need to get out of here,” she said.

Price shot another and yelled over the din, “No argument from me, any ideas?”

Chastity kicked one of the stubborn creatures in the face and rammed her sword through its skull, killing it. She left the glowing blade in place for the few moments of space it would give her and raised the cross that dangled between her breasts.

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”

As she began to recite the Lord’s prayer, the creatures moaned and gave way, widening the space around them. When there was room, Chastity began to walk slowly back the way they’d come. Price reloaded his revolver and followed, staying within the circle of protection Chastity had created. When the prayer ended, however, the creatures hissed and began to approach once more.

“Run!” Chastity cried.

Price shook his head and shot another of the creatures. His aim was perfect and the monster’s head exploded in a spray of ichor and ash.

Chastity pulled Herbert’s vial from the padded pouch on her hip. “Run, Christian, I will be right behind you!”

“What are you going to do?” Price called back.

“Slow them down, now run!”

Price looked unhappy, but did as she asked, loping away in long, ground-eating strides. Chastity let him get a dozen paces away then uncorked Herbert’s concoction, dropped it and ran, chasing after him. Good to Herbert’s word, ten seconds later, the world exploded. Chastity looked over her shoulder and could see the tunnel caving in, burying the monsters behind her. She ran harder, catching up and joining Price, who has also heard the rumble.

“You were right,” he panted. “The world isn’t ready for your toys.”

Chastity didn’t reply. She was too busy trying not to faint in her constricting corset.

They reached the dead end just ahead of the cave-in and began to climb the stairs two and three at a time. They were halfway to the top when the stairs rolled beneath their feet. Chastity looked back and knew they weren’t going to make it on foot. She pulled Herbert’s bracelet from beneath her jacket and aimed the spike at the distant bricks of the supporting wall above.