Only the Thunder Knows_East End Girls (4 page)

Chapter

5

Taking turns –
one  man pushing, one pulling – it took two full hours for Burke and Hare to
lug the heavily weighted cart back to the lodging house, and another half hour
to carefully unload the wooden crates into the back storage room that Mr. Black
was using as his bedroom and workshop.

Although
the two toughies were too stubborn to admit it, both were secretly relieved to
have the job behind them without damaging any of Black’s important stones. The
task complete, their collectively dull minds quickly turned to the night ahead –
a night filled with drinking, fighting, and whoring – now that they’d have
extra money in their pockets. By 11:00 p.m. they were on their way out the
door, more than ready to hit the pub but a high-pitched scream up on the second
floor stopped them in their tracks.

“That’s
my Maggie!” William said. “Come on!”

They
ran up the stairs two at a time only to find Mrs. Hare sitting numbly on a
chair outside of room number 6.

“What
in blazes are you yelping about, woman?” William asked, his concern turning to
anger seeing his wife unharmed and wasting their valuable drinking time.

“It’s
Mr. Murdock,” she said. “I just walked in and found him dead on the floor of
his room. See for yourself. I can’t believe it. We were having a nice chat
downstairs less than an hour ago. Now he’s gone!”

William
and Billy pushed past Maggie and peered into room 6. Sure enough, an old
heavyset bald man in a frayed brown suit lay sprawled just inside the door,
eyes wide open but not seeing anything in this world anymore.

“So
what?” William asked, sympathetic as usual. “The old bugger snuffed it. Was he
paid up?”

“You’re
a cruel man, William. How can you ask such a thing with poor Mr. Murdock not
even cold yet?”

William
just shrugged, slapped Billy on the shoulder and started back down the stairs.
“Well, we’re off for a few pints, love. Don’t wait up.”

“Oh
no you’re
not
,” Maggie shouted, chasing her good‐for‐nothing husband to
the front door. “You’re not leaving me here like this. Not with him just lying
there in the doorway!”

“What
do you want me to do with him? Take him to the pub with us?”

“I
don’t care what you do with him, but he’s not staying here. Take him to the
hospital or something.”

William
was about to tell her it was a bit late for that, but knew from the look on her
face she wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “Okay, Maggie. You win. Come on, Billy.
We’ll drop him off on our way.”

*  
*   *

Using
the same pull cart they’d used earlier to transport the wooden crates, Burke
and Hare once again found themselves out transporting a load; only this time
one not made of heavy stone. Maggie had found them a tattered blanket to cover
Murdock’s body with, but they were still getting some unusual stares from the
people they walked past on the street.

“Let’s
just dump him here,” Billy said for the third time since they’d left the
lodging house. He was tired, thirsty and in a foul mood.

“We
can’t, fool, but I’ll tell you this. I’m no’ taking him all the way to the
Edinburgh morgue either.”

“Oh
yeah?” Billy asked, interested. “Where’s he going then?”

“Bristo
Port. Jimmy Mack told me about a doctor there that gets the dead bodies
delivered to him from the jail after they swing on the gallows.”

“Christ!
What’s he do with them?”

“The
hell do we care? All I know, he’s a lot closer than the city morgue.”

“Can
we find him? What’s his name?”

“Pretty
sure it’s Knox.”

*  
*   *

Dr.
Robert Knox was a rake-thin man with a pallid tone to his flesh not far removed
from the men he usually operated on. Knox did indeed accept the deceased bodies
of convicted criminals. He ran a small school for newly graduated doctors in
the rapidly advancing study of dissection, providing surgeons with vital hands-on
training to study human anatomy and improve their operating techniques. It was
a thriving, respected school, but impossible to keep running steady; the demand
for freshly deceased bodies being far greater than the prison’s limited
execution schedule – their only legitimate source of donated cadavers. So it
was when Burke and Hare stumbled to his door, he was more than pleased to take
the body of Mr. Murdock off their hands.

“Thanks
lads,” Dr. Knox said, excitedly twirling the ends of his handlebar mustache, seemingly
unconcerned that what he was about to do was highly illegal. “This is
completely unexpected but a
huge
help to me.”

“No
worries,” William said. “Helps us too. We’ll be off, then. Night, gov.”

“Wait
a second,” Knox said as Burke and Hare were turning to leave. “I haven’t paid
you yet!”

“Paid?”
Billy said, his eyes widening at the notion.

Dr.
Knox went into his office, returning a moment later to count seven one-pound
notes into Billy’s slightly shaking hand. When Knox was finished, he bid them
good night and thanked them again for their service. Burke and Hare were both
too stunned to even speak so they nodded and shuffled away as fast as they
could.

“Seven
pounds, William!” Billy said once they were out of earshot. “Can you believe
it?”

“Bloody
Hell!” William said, overwhelmed. It was an outrageous sum of money – more cash
than either of them regularly earned in months. “We’re on a roll, mate!”

“Aye.
Between this toff with the silly mustache and the white-haired old git at your
lodge, we’ll be rich in no time!”

They
both started to laugh, but their jovial mood was cut short when a familiar,
large-winged bird suddenly swooped out of the fog like a disembodied wraith
causing them to drop to the street, hands frantically covering their heads in
case of attack. The Snowy Owl landed on a nearby fence post, swiveled its head
to look back at them cowering, and screeched out a series of loud hoots. As if
this was some sort of arranged signal, Ambrosious Black strode out of the
darkness in the bird’s wake, appearing just as suddenly as he had down by the
docks, towering over the fallen men.

“Not
unless you learn some respect, you won’t!” Black said. “Follow me before I
change my mind…”

With
that, Black turned and walked off into the night, forcing Burke and Hare to
jump up and follow, less they be left alone with the bird of prey.

“How
in blazes did he hear me?” Billy asked, whispering.

“No
idea, mate, but do as he says, hear? And keep that muckle big trap of yours shut
next time!”

*  
*   *

Burke
and Hare skulked along behind Mr. Black keeping a respectable distance behind
their mysterious employer. In the fog, sometimes it was difficult to see where
they were going and to keep pace, but the phantom owl flew close on their
heels, ensuring they didn’t lag too far behind.

Eventually,
Black crossed Main Street and walked through the high steel gates of a place
neither man following would have guessed in a hundred years would be their
destination – Calton Cemetery.

“Why’s
he taking us here,” Burke asked. “He’s not going to snuff us, is he?”

“Not
likely. Steady, Billy. I smell money in this. Black’s obviously a man of
secrets, right? Well, he’ll pay handsomely to a couple of strong blokes like us
that know how to keep them.”

Deeper
into the old cemetery Black took them, finally stopping on a grassy hill and
waiting for his cohorts to walk closer. Once they were standing face to face,
Black chose to remain silent, staring at both men with a strange look of either
amusement or disgust; it was impossible to tell which. The silence unnerved
Billy first, and he blurted out something, anything, just to break the tension
hanging in the chilly air.

“Ah…is
that beastly bird following us with you? Is it your pet?”

“My
pet?” Black repeated, laughing at the absurd assumption. “Of course not, dolt.
Nazza is my eyes…and my friend. We’ve traveled together many, many years.”

William
was tired of this senseless chitchat and butted in to say, “No offense, sir,
but bugger the bird! I want to know what your plans are for us? Why did you
bring us out here to this terrible place?”

“Fair
enough,” Black said. “The second job I mentioned. Remember? Good. Look around,
then. Tell me what you gentlemen see.”

“Easy,”
Billy said. “I see dead people.”

“Do
you now?” Black chuckled. “Where? I don’t see any wandering around. Are you
sure?”

“They’re
in the ground, obviously. Where God intended them to be.”

“Precisely.
Look down then, lads. See where you’re standing.”

Burke
and Hare looked down to see their shoes covered in soft brown dirt that looked
and smelled like it has been recently turned. They were standing on a freshly
dug grave. “Oh hell!” William shouted and jumped to the side, eager to get back
onto the damp grass.

“What
do you see now, Billy?” Black asked.

“Umm…nothing.
Just some poor bugger’s grave. They must have buried him in the last day or two.”

“And
how about you, William? Is that what you see too?” Black asked. “Just a
pauper’s grave?”

Hare
thought it over for a minute, piecing the events of the day together and
remembering where they’d just come from. Then it dawned on him and he smiled
coldly. “No, Mr. Black. That’s not what I see at all.”

“What
is it, then?”

“Opportunity,
sir. I see opportunity!”

Black
smiled darkly, a great unnerving feral grin spreading across his bearded face.
“Excellent. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Chapter

6

 “What in
blazes is that bloody racket?” William shouted for the second time, staggering
down the stairs to confront his trembling wife.

It
was only six o’clock in the morning, but Maggie Hare had been up and cleaning
for nearly an hour already. She enjoyed these first few peaceful hours each day
before everyone else at the lodge woke up and started ordering her around
again. The last thing she needed was William roused from his brief inebriated
slumber. He hadn’t wandered home until the wee hours of the morning, and Maggie
could tell from the tone of his voice he was still half drunk and in a murderous
mood. Never a good sign – for  her, or the unfortunate person who’d unwittingly
woken him.

“Shush
William…you’ll wake the whole house.”

“Bugger
them all. What in hell is making that infernal clanging noise? It feels like
someone is driving a nail through my skull with every bang! If that wee bastard
Donny is up making that row I’ll—”

“It’s
no’ Donny, William. He’s by the fire playing his chess, as usual. It’s Mr.
Black. He told us he’d be starting his work this mornin’, remember?”

Maggie
expected her husband to fly into a rage, cursing his way to the back workshop
to put a stop, once and for all, to their recent arrival’s banging, but she was
surprised by his reaction. Amazed, in fact. Instead of anger clouding William’s
unshaven face, another emotion altogether surfaced. Was it
fear?
Couldn’t be.

“Oh.
Mr. Black. His…his statue. Right. Maybe I’ll just pop in and see how he’s
making out.”

“Don’t
you hurt him, William,” Maggie said, still convinced her husband would return
at any moment to the nasty man she knew. “He’s our best paying guest and we
can’t afford to lose him.”

“No
worries, hen. I just want to see if he needs anything.” William started toward
the back room, but paused halfway down the hall, almost as if he was hesitant
to carry on. Turning back, he asked, “Go wake up Billy for me. He’s kipping up
in Mr. Murdock’s empty room. And put a cuppa on for us, luv.”

With
that said, William headed for the workshop, leaving his wife open-mouthed and
wondering what was wrong with her husband this morning. Having no answer but
happy William was at least no longer shouting, Maggie headed for the kitchen to
put on a pot of tea and go wake up her least favorite person in the world.

*  
*   *

William
knocked lightly on the door and nervously waited until his guest bid him enter.
Ambrosious Black was immersed in his work over by the open window, the early morning
sun cutting through the gloom to give the large man excellent light to guide
his clearly skilled hands. Before him on a raised dais, a stone bust was taking
shape, the head and shoulders of a man with piercing eyes peering out from
within an ornate armored helmet. The work was nowhere near finished but was already
intricately detailed enough that it took William’s uncultured breath away.

“My
God, Mr. Black. It’s stunning!” William took a few steps closer but a noise to
his left stopped him. It was the bird. The owl, perched on the bed frame as
still as the statue its master was chiseling. Only its eyes moved, riveting
Hare to his spot just inside the door, the sight of its immense body and razor-sharp
talons deterrent enough that William approached no further.

“Well?”
Black asked without looking away from the bust. “Did you find anything last
night?”

“No
sir. We didn’t.”

“Then
why bother me? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Sorry.
I just wanted you to know Billy and I dug up three more, after you left. It was
hard work and—”

“Your
pay is on the table. Take it and get out.”

“No,
it’s not the pay, sir, it’s where you ‘ave us digging. Everything in the old
part of the cemetery is, well…old. Dusty boxes filled with chalky bones and
threadbare rags teeming with spiders. We were hoping to have a go at some of
the, shall we say,
fresher
graves.”

 “You’ll
dig where I damn well showed you. Grab a recent corpse for your doctor friend
on your own time if you want, but best do it sparingly or you’ll attract unwanted
attention. Your work for me comes first. Let me know when you find it.”

“Find
what, sir? That’s just it. Billy and I have no bloomin’ idea what we’re looking
for. Perhaps if you—”

“Trust
me; you’ll know when you see it. It’s
impossible
to miss. Take your
money and get out. I’m trying to concentrate.”

Dismissed,
and despite having other questions for his employer, William had no choice but
to bite his tongue and walk over to the wooden table to gather his pay. There
was a pile of shiny guineas on the board, much more than Black owed, and for a
moment William considered taking more than his do. When he looked over his
shoulder though, the white beast was still intently watching his every move and
he thought better of stealing anything from this odd, mysterious man.

William
gathered his coins and left without another word.

*  
*   *

Burke
was awake, or to be more precise, half awake, sitting droopy-eyed and hung over
at one of the tables in the common room. He looked up, bleary-eyed and
miserable, when William entered the room to sit across from him. Mind you,
after his frustrating visit with Ambrosious Black, Hare wasn’t in the best of
moods either. He was a man not used to being intimidated, and being afraid of a
crazy old man wasn’t sitting well in his belly. There just wasn’t a lot he
could do about.

Not
yet anyway.

“So
did our
boss
tell us what we’re supposed to be looking for?” Burke
asked. “Or is it still some bloody big secret?”

“He
said we’d know when we see it…whatever
that
means? I’m of a mind to
march right back in there and tell him to stuff his job up his holier-than-thou
arse! I mean who does he think he is?”

“Don’t
know, mate, but his coins are all that matter. I don’t give a fiddler’s fart
about him as long as he keeps paying us.”

“I
suppose.”

“And
speaking of pay…what happened to the seven pounds we got from Doctor what’s his
face?”

“We
spent it already. Well, actually
you
spent it already.”

“What?
That’s impossible. How could I go through that much money in one bloody night?”

“You
couldn’t, but the five whores you were sniffin’ around sure could. Pissed away
all our stash without even getting in their britches. Nice work!”

Burke
only had vague memories of the night before but enough snippets to know his
friend was probably right. He’d been buying everyone in sight a pint and a dram
for a while there. “Well, good thing we know how to make more, right?”

“Right
you are, Billy Boy. Right you are.”