The Killing Hand (21 page)

   When I returned home that evening, I no longer saw the home my family belonged to. I saw a temple of darkness which I sat in and worshipped every night. And as time passed, I sensed that He were getting closer. Perhaps
He could already be waiting within, ready to loom over my bed whilst I slept and dig His claws in.

   I needed convincing no further.
I walked up the steps of my house to collect the bag I had packed, but nothing more. As I stood in the open doorway I gave the house one parting glance. I thought about the horrors that had been committed here, and the horrors that were to be committed. Could I simply shut it off as a mausoleum and never return to it? No, I could not. And what if Lilly were to come visit and look for me?

   I had to burn my steps if I were to truly throw Jack, and I needed to do so in such a way that Lilly would not move back into the house
– for I knew only too well that Gilbert would steal such an idea given the chance. I gave myself no time to neither think nor regret, I could only think of survival now and nothing more. I lit a candle and placed it on the sofa and left, making my way into the depths of night.

I made my way to a local inn, where I paid for a room and holed myself for the night. I did not sleep. I sat on the edge of the bed and peering through the slit in the curtains. I felt as though the world was picking up speed around me, but I remained rooted to the spot. That I would soon be caught under the gears.

   I thought how I could avoid Him
from now on, perhaps moving from inn to inn. But my funds would be limited, I could not survive forever this way. My mind was clouded for some time, but no thoughts came clearly. I remained peering through the window until I saw a warm orange glow several streets away.

   The rain was pelting when I made my way outside. The streets were empty. The reflection of the rising moon shone against the drenched cobblestones of the street. I began to walk, the clicking of my shoes against stone indiscernible from t
he hammering of rain.

   As I neared my street, my nostrils filled with fresh, sickly smoke.
Many would have assumed it to be the industry of the area pouring its smog out onto the street, but the air was too thick with it. When my home came into view it was as I suspected, I was that it was engulfed in ravenous flame, curling around every window and door like veins. A crowd had already gathered around it and I ran to them. There was nothing I could do, the flames were far too great and the house had fallen to it, but this was my intention. I regretted it, but I could do nothing about it now. To have simply left would have meant I could always return, but this was final. I struggled to simply stand by and watch, several bypassers had to hold me as I tried to get near to the house. I did not know what I would do, there was nothing I could do. I wanted to salvage some part of it before it was all gone, erased from this world, but I was too late. My home was gone.

   By the time the fire brigade turned up it was
too late; the fire had done its work. 13 Womersley Place had been completely destroyed. The very home that I had been born and raised in was now a smouldering skeletal frame. My life had burned before me. The once finely decorated home had been peeled and stripped by flame and stood as a simple reminder that nothing is forever and all that awaits us when our time on this planet ends is decay.

   Lilly appeared about an hour later, having being informed by a neighbour to visit me with haste. She had little
expected to find me wallowing over the ruins of our home that morning. She did not cry when she saw the remains of the home. Perhaps there was too much tragedy consigned to it now for her to wish it back. “It is horrible to see it like this,” she simply whispered to herself.

   I could only nod. Some of the fine details from within the skeletal frame were still distinguishable
– banisters and railings singed and broken, resembling a fraction of what the house once was.

   “
Are you the owner?” one of the firemen called out to me after they had finished wrestling with the flames.

   I nodded.

   “There is very little left, I am afraid.”

  
“I can see that much.”

   The fireman, undeterred, continued.
“The flames spread to most of the rooms, although there are some items that were unscathed.” He pointed to a mound that had been dragged from the wreckage. They were now the only possessions I owned, an ash coated pile of materials, clothes and ornaments.

   “
Thank you.”

   “
We also believe we found the source of the fire.” He held out the candle holder, burned and warped by the flame. “You should be more careful in future.”

   I simply nodded and said nothing further. The fireman, understanding further preaching would be useless, left me alone with Lilly.

   “What will you do now?” Lilly asked from behind me.

   “
I am not quite sure. I never really planned it.”

  
“You shall stay with us,” she said. “You cannot go anywhere else, with no money and no possessions.”

   “
I still have money in the bank,” I argued.

   “
Not nearly enough to start afresh. You shall stay with us until you find your feet.”

   She was right. I was bound to London
for now, although I knew I was bound until I could break those damned chains. “I appreciate the offer, but I cannot invade your home. I am certain Gilbert would not appreciate me under your roof.”

  
“It was not an offer, Eric. It was a demand. I will not have you sleeping rough.'

   I grumbled, realising that Lilly would not take no for an answer, and eventually relinq
uished. I stood staring at the charred remains of my life, unable to tear myself from the horrific picture. She took me by the arm and led me away. Behind me, my old life was smoking. But maybe it was better that way. Maybe freedom from it was better than the memory.

  
“What is he doing here?” was the first thing Gilbert said as Lilly led me into her home.

   “
There has been a fire,” Lilly said as she took my drenched coat from me. “Eric no longer has a home.”

  
Gilbert huffed, seemingly affected by the news of my homelessness - or perhaps of the loss of the house. He eventually composed himself. “A tragedy I am sure, but you have failed to answer my question. What is he doing here?”

   “
I have invited him to stay with us until he finds his feet again.”

   “
This is not your home to invite him to. I will have no such man under this roof.”

   “
You shall have no choice in the matter,” Lilly snapped. “You have treat my brother with nothing but discontent since his arrival. You can make it up by offering one of our many spare rooms out to him in his time of need. You have married me and now he is part of your family, so you must treat him as such.”

   Gilbert did not argue further, although
I could see he did not agree. He snarled, giving me a glare, before disappearing back into his study.

   “
Ignore him,” Lilly said as she led me into the house and lit the fire for me. “He probably will not get much better, but that is the price of free accommodation I am afraid.”

   “
I have put up with him so far, I am sure I will find a way to continue.” Even as I said this, I could hear Gilbert stomping around in the study.

   Lilly offered me tea, which I accepted, and I began to dry myself ne
ar the fire from the rain. I stank of damp and smoke, but there was little I could do about it. After Lilly had settled me, she joined me beside the fire.

  
“Feeling better?” she asked.

   I nodded.
“I am just glad I was not in it when it happened.”

   “
Where were you?”

   “
At a friend’s. James’.”

   “
A very peculiar hour to be visiting, although I suppose it was fortunate in itself.”

   I nodded.

   She continued, “So now that you are stuck in London, do you wish to tell me about what is wrong?”

   “
Wrong?”

   “
You have alluded to it many times, Eric. You have obviously entwined yourself since your arrival. You should tell me.”

  
“No. I fear that it will inflict upon you.”

  
“I can help you, Eric. Please do not feel as though you must suffer in silence.”

   Lilly was the only person I had left to reach out to
, but I could not. I wanted her to be safe, and to remove her from the situation was best. If I told her and died, she would only remain vengeful. Silence was best. “My dear Sister, I am sorry, but I will not endanger you. It is with no pleasure that I have to keep this from you, Lilly.”

  
“I know. I understand.”

   “
You do?”

   “
It was not by choice that you were put in this situation, was it? I know you, Eric. You would never do such a thing to yourself. I do not know the details, and I do not know how to help you, but know that this house is always open to you now. I cannot imagine how horrible it has been for you.”

   “
I wish I could tell you. Suffering alone has only made it worse.”

   “
Not alone.” She smiled at me. That warm smile that seemed to reassure me that everything would be alright. “Share your burdens with me, when you can.”

   I smiled back at her. Although I did not know what we could do together
, I knew her offer was genuine.

   Gilbert entered moments later, eyeing m
e with disdain. “Where is my tea?” he asked, eyeing the drink in my hand.

   “
Ah, sorry dear. I shall make you one now.” Lilly stood and hurried away to the kitchen.

   Gilbert followed suit, and I remained in the living room listening to them bicker. Gilb
ert was obviously cranky, presumably from working far too much since my absence from work. They argued about nothing between themselves for a while as she made the tea. I thought it merely a tiny spat at first, but then I heard the smash of a cup against the floor. It had had a long day and his patience had long since snapped, and I heard his hand strike my sister.

   Pushing my way through into the kitchen, I caught him with one arm raised and the other grabbing her by the arm. “
Remove your hands from my Sister you wretch.” I grabbed him and pushed him away.

   “
She is not your Sister, she is my wife - and that is all that matters under this roof.”

   Lilly steadied herself, brushing her hair back into place. “
Eric, it is fine. Please, leave us. Go settle in your room.”

   “
I will not leave you with this crook of a man, a man who takes pleasure in beating you.”

   “
Eric, I was not asking.”

   Two strangers stood before me. Gilbert, the strong domineering man with a gaze suggesting he would like nothing more
than to turn his fist on me right now if he had the  spine, and Lilly who, for reasons I shall never understand, looked at me with a sorrowful expression. An innocent man would have assumed that her sad expression was due to the situation we had found ourselves caught in, but the look in her eyes was one I had seen before. It was the expression of a person who merely wished to be left to their own devices and, in this case, her own devices were the horrors of married life.

   I did not feel proud leaving th
at room. I sat upstairs for some time, making sure I could not hear any further commotion. Everything had died down though, and Gilbert returned to his usual grumpy, but not aggressive, self.

   Before either of them could pester me further, I left the hou
se and returned to the inn to retrieve my bag. I did not return to their home straight away, instead wandering idly. I did not want to be in a home where my own Sister was subservient to such a man, but another part of me told me it was better to be there when it did happen. That was the only part that made me return.

After I had packed I made the decision to return back to their home later on in the evening. I knocked on the door and Lilly answered. To my relief I found that Gilbert was absent, schmoozing in bars with those he barely knew most likely. I took my bag upstairs and unpacked before returning to the living room to sit with Lilly. We did not speak about the event that had just transpired. I knew that the issue of Gilbert would lay on my mind, but until I knew how to best deal with it, I decided preaching at Lilly would do no good. Instead, we spoke of better things. Reminisced of our childhoods, of the times we spent in that now lost home of ours, and of our Father.

   “
If I left…” I asked all of a sudden amidst idle chat, immediately realising it was a mistake to bring it up, but at the same time unable to restrain myself. “If I left would you come with me?” Perhaps it was my way of dealing with the guilt. It Lilly came with me, then I would not have to feel remorse for leaving her behind.

   “
Eric, you know I would go to the ends of the world for you if needs be.”

  
“But would you stay there?” I asked, but she did not respond. The silence was the most damning and truthful answer I could receive. At that point I simply wished to save her from Gilbert, from London. If she could only feel what I felt when I was away, then perhaps she would have said yes in an instant. Or maybe she would not. Perhaps she did not see the world as I did, as a grand opportunity for something more. Some people prefer their ponds, whilst others prefer the ocean. She gave me no response, and I probed no further.

   She said instead, “
Your bag full of clothes. How did you retrieve such a thing following the fire? Did it not perish?”

   “
It was all they could save from the fire. That is all I have to my name now.” I felt content knowing that this was only a partial lie.

   We talked idly
for a while longer, until I heard the front door clatter and knew that Gilbert was home. He entered the living room and said hello to Lilly, but did not acknowledge me. He went out shortly after.

   “
He will be fine,” Lilly said before I could even ask. “You know his temperament. Just leave him be and he will be fine.”

   Gilbert came in several moments later and walked up to me, handing me a small envelope. “
Here, a letter for you.”

   “
For me?”

   He threw the letter at me. “
Do I have to repeat myself?”

   I unravelled it with curiosity. Inside was a pla
in piece of paper with a hasty scrawl on it:

Meet at my house, Tuesday night, 7pm.

~ Lucius

   Was this an invitation to another meeting? I had
thought we had seen the end of them, but this appeared to indicate that things were going to continue as normal. That nothing had changed and that nobody had been deterred. As if Jack would continue as normal since the law had failed to stop him or our group.

   But even I knew it was not that. Lucius knew we could no longer go back down that path. This was something different.

   I turned to Gilbert. “How did you end up with this?”

   “
Lucius came into the shop looking for you today. I seem to remember telling you to stay away from the man; you would do best to listen to me. Anyway, he handed me the envelope and asked me to deliver it to you as soon as I could. I did not tell him you were staying with us.”

   “
Thank you.”

   “
Heavens! Do not think I was protecting you, Eric. I just did not fancy admitting to the shame of allowing you to sleep under my roof.”

   I nodded. I knew it was best to not retort. Instead, I
finished my tea, I bid my Sister goodnight, and went upstairs. The bedroom I was in was a small spare bedroom that was barely furnished, but it felt more like a home than staying at an inn. I made myself comfy, wishing only to go to sleep and forget about the day's activities.

   I woke in the depth of night at some indeterminable time. I do not k
now what woke me, there was neither sound nor movement, and I merely chalked it down to bad thoughts and dreams that may have stirred me. I could not remember my dream from the night, only remembering slowly drifting off into sleep.

   I tried to return to
slumber, but my mind was too full of thought to be able to settle. Bored of sitting in the dark I lit a candle on the bedside table and turned to tuck myself up in bed whilst pondering for a while. I listened to the night; the occasional quiet murmur of nightlife roaming the streets broke the quiet. I thought of Jack still out there, roaming about as if He owned London. Was He any closer to finding me? Was He simply toying with me? Perhaps my time was already over. Cold fear ran over me as I thought about it. Perhaps He vowed to drive me insane, to torture me, before killing me. He had killed Rufus so quick and mercilessly for He was under Shaw’s command, but now He was free to do things at His own pace. Or perhaps He had tortured Rufus, too. Toyed with him before death. I shook my head; I would never know for sure, so it was best not to dwell on it.

   I stared blankly at the message from Lucius, uncertain of what to do. I was sure this was no mere meeting, perhaps Lucius simply wished to reaffirm that all
was lost. Where does one run when nowhere seems safe? There was nobody to tell who could take action, unless James found a way. Anyone else I told would only fear me. Lilly worries about me enough without divulging to her that I may be bringing a murderer amidst our company.

  
I wanted to go back to sleep, but the bed no longer seemed safe. Instead, I wrapped myself up in the blanket on the edge of the bed, watching the words as if they would do something. This I did until sunrise, and even then the world did not seem much safer.

   When morning rolled round I made a co
ncerted effort to visit James. Despite having little sleep and feeling ill in myself, I knew resting was out of the question. When I knocked there was simply a call from within to enter, and when I did so I found him slumped in his chair, his hair wild and unkempt.

   “
Should I even ask?” I questioned as I sat down on the sofa opposite him.

   “
Nothing. No matter how I dig, I cannot find a thing. Still, I guess an assassin who cannot be researched only lives up to their profession. I have gone through articles and statements, descriptions the witnesses supplied.” As he spoke he pointed as a stack of papers and portfolios in the corner of the room. “There are plenty of them, but each one is different. Witness reports describing tall men, short men, thin men, fat men, bearded, clean shaven, blue eyes, red eyes, fire breathing, leaping, flying, the list just becomes more ridiculous as you read!”

   I opened one close to me and fl
icked through it. “So the witness reports are useless?”

  
James nodded. “Most witnesses were either too panic stricken, or saw too little, to give an accurate report.”

  
“So Jack could be anyone,” I said, more so to myself.

   “
Jack is anyone. Do not search for logic in this, Eric, for you will find none. Do not expect to recognise Jack when he is unveiled, for you will be disappointed. Jack is Jack, and the face under it will just be some poor sod that simply never was.”

   “
So, what is your next move?”

   “
I need to catch him in the act. It is the only way.”

   “
But, how will you know when he will next strike?”

   “
I have eyes, Eric. Although the investigation is now cancelled, many on the force feel aggravated by the fact that they put so much time into the case only to be pushed aside. Many officers have willingly offered their help in my cause. I have them on lookout all over London, where I can anyway. At first sight of him moving, we will know.”

   “
But James, it was actions like this which lead to the Mayors death.”

   “
And what would you have be do otherwise? I am an officer of the law, Eric. Risk is part of my job. I need to do it for the greater good, as my service to the public.”

   I could not agree with him. James was setting himself up as a ma
rtyr. If I were to stop him, I was squandering all hope of freeing myself from this horror. If I were to remain quiet, I was risking his life.

   I said nothing and agreed.