Authors: David Pirie
The Night Calls (34 page)
Instead he turned right and began to move towards the light at the back of the building. I could only assume that, with Miller’s help, he had established that the place had once been a warehouse of some kind with a back staircase. The corridor was bare and dirty and there was still not much we could see, but soon it veered to the left and I made out light coming from an entrance a little way down. The Doctor headed for this at once and, as I reached him, he turned to me and nodded. We were at the top of a flight of stone steps.
We moved slowly down the winding stairs and the light below us grew brighter.
Bell was ahead of me but, as we descended, I noticed him looking anxiously back the way we had come. His face told me he was concerned that we might be surprised from that direction, and he whispered to me to keep a watch behind.
After a few turns of the steps, we reached the floor below. Before us was a short passage piled with boxes, and at the end of it an old curtain of Oriental design. Beyond the curtain was the source of light, and I could make out the sound of voices. Slowly and quietly we inched forward. Soon we were at the curtain itself, which was so torn and old that it was possible to see into the room ahead.
Through the cracks I made out a large space, rather like the cabin of a ship, with some rudimentary furniture: a table was close by us with two upright lighted candles which illuminated a desk, a threadbare armchair, cushions, a stove, and some objects, associated with the opium trade. The sound of the river was stronger and it was not hard to see why. This part of the structure must have stood above one of the numerous inlets, and in the far corner a trap door stood propped open.
I took all of this in at once, but most of my attention was on the table and the two men close by it. Standing with his back to us was Hanbury. I could not see his face, but I recognised not only the burn on his neck but the whole bearing of the man. He stood laughing, one meaty hand on the wooden table before him, the other in his pocket. In front of him, facing us, was a pale thin waif of a man, though he was by no means young. His hair was lank and silver-grey, his eyes red, presumably from the effects of the pipe, and his hands shook. Yet he was not unhappy; he was laughing at something Hanbury had said. Therefore I assumed he was a confederate and wondered why Hanbury would be interested in using someone so evidently frail and feeble.
‘You saw them – what a pack of fools,’ Hanbury repeated, still evidently seized by the humour of something.
‘The Old Chink,’ the older man was wheezing. ‘The Old Chink, he has a devil of a pipe. Why, my feet are blocks of wood. And did you see the sailor, he’s under the bed now, and will be there till morning.’
‘Let him lie,’ said Hanbury.
‘Aye,’ said the other. ‘But the sailor will be rank.’ He laughed and the other joined him. ‘The stench up there is already foul.’
‘They can roll in it for all I care.’ Hanbury banged a hand on the table. He seemed to me to be indulging the older man in a way that was unnerving. ‘But you are to have a private pipe here with me, so why do you stand there? You say you want to see something?’
‘Aye,’ said the silver-haired man, his face glinting craftily in the candlelight. ‘I have heard what you have. Your head. Your live head.’
Behind the curtain I heard Bell take in a breath at the mention of this.
‘What head?’ said Hanbury scornfully, and then his manner changed a little. ‘Ah well, if you have heard of it, somebody has said what they should not.’
‘Yes,’ said the silver-haired man, lolling forward, ‘the Chink’s wife was full of it. It came from the East. She said it is alive? A female head. A dragon’s head?’
‘Not a dragon, though they say it lives for ever, but nobody should talk of such things for it is devilish ugly and it stings,’ said Hanbury. ‘You do not want to see the head.’
‘Show me,’ said the man recklessly, for it was obvious that opium had dulled his fear into a sort of thrilling pleasure.
‘Well,’ said Hanbury, ‘you are a help to me, so I will grant you if you wish. But only a little turn before our pipe. And you will not touch?’
‘Ah, no,’ said the silver-haired man.
At this, Hanbury went over to a large storage cupboard. For a few moments he could not be seen, though I thought I heard a noise of some kind. And then he reappeared with an old and bulky black box which he carried over to the table. There was something very ugly about this box. He dusted it off as the silver-haired man leaned forward eagerly. Beside me, I sensed the Doctor too crouching forward.
‘That is it?’ said the silver-haired man.
Hanbury nodded and put his hand on the box which stood on the table between them. ‘So you are ready to see it?’ he said.
The silver-haired man nodded and made some noises of assent. Because of the drug, I take it, he had not much control, and his curiosity was making him almost slobber. But Hanbury merely smiled and stood erect and put two hands on either side of the box. The man was bent down in expectation and, as he watched, Hanbury slowly lifted the great lid.
Of course, from where we stood we could see nothing of what was inside, but now a shaft of light fell on the silver-haired man’s face, and his mouth opened wide and his eyes bulged with wonder as he stared at its contents.
‘The head.’ He spoke in a reverent whisper. ‘The damned head.’
His hand beside him was quivering and came a little closer.
‘She says there is nothing like the touch of it,’ he whispered. ‘It will give you more than twenty pipes, more than a woman, more than anything else.’
I expected Hanbury to slam the lid down at this contradiction of his warning, but his tone had changed and his eye was fixed on the silver-haired man. ‘Go on then, Ben,’ he said with unexpected recklessness, ‘you have earned it, I suppose.’
And the silver-haired man put out his hand.
All this time I had sensed Bell’s growing tension beside me. Now the Doctor suddenly erupted. For he flung himself forward through the curtain with a great shout.
Hanbury whirled with a furious look. The silver-haired man hesitated – but he was too late, for his hand had connected with the head, or whatever it was, and it must have bitten out at him. Now his hand was caught fast and he was quivering with pain which, from his expression, was as acute as any I had ever witnessed. His mouth stretched in a frenzy, his face contorted, the terror and agony in him was so great that he could not even scream out.
But Bell had lost not a second. He sprang across the room, raising his cane, and flung it with all the force at his command at the man’s arm. The impact was enough to tear his limb away from whatever was in that box, but the Doctor’s effort was in vain for the man slumped lifeless on the floor not far from he trap, and I could see from his posture that he was dead.
Hanbury turned on the Doctor now, his face full of fury, catching up a short, ugly-looking staff from the table. I stepped forward at once, but even as I did so something brushed past my hair, and my neck was suddenly jerked back with horrible force as a cord was slipped round it and pulled tight.
I cursed my stupidity, for I been so transfixed by what was happening in the room that I had utterly failed to heed the Doctor’s last warning. Behind me, as I twisted back, I caught just a glimpse of the Chinese I had seen before, his face murderous as he pulled the cord taut, choking the life out of me. And even as I struggled, events in the room before me were taking a terrible turn. Having no weapon, Bell had tried to sidestep Hanbury’s blow, but the man was quick and the stave smashed into the Doctor’s neck, sending him reeling.
In a trice Hanbury had pinned Bell’s arms and was dragging him half-concious towards the table where the box lay. But that was all I saw. The cord was so tight now that my senses were swimming. My hands scrabbled uselessly at my neck trying to free it, but it was already cutting into my throat and my senses blurred.
I could feel my legs were about to give way, and my eyes were closed. But a part of my mind knew that if I fell now, I would die.
And it was then, in the extremity of pain, that I registered that my hands, so uselessly fumbling at my neck, had found something soft. It must be the hair of my attacker, whose head was therefore close to mine. With a great effort I brought my hands up high and clamped them round his scalp, pulling it forward. It was a last play – in another instant I would have gone into the darkness – but I gave it every ounce of strength I had. And in response I felt the cord round my neck slacken slightly, and was able to take a few gasps of air, for the Chinese could not possibly keep the cord tight as he struggled to free himself from my grip.
This gave me more strength and a sudden idea. With a quick movement, I flexed my knee, dipping a little and then, releasing my hands, I brought my head hard back into his. There was a crack as the back of his skull hit the stone of the wall, and the cord was looser still. Before he had time to recover I repeated the action to even better effect. I felt his body sag.
I was able to turn now and tear the cord from my neck. The Chinese had crumpled to the floor and I staggered round and moved forward through the curtain into the room.
A dreadful spectacle was before me. The Doctor was slumped in a chair, still obviously greatly weakened by the blows he had sustained, and Hanbury was crouched over him beside that horrible box. At first I could not make out exactly what Hanbury was doing until I saw he had tied a strip of cloth round Bell’s right wrist and was carefully and gleefully forcing the Doctor’s hand directly into the open box and whatever hellish thing it contained.
Bell’s face was ashen but there was nothing at all he could do, for Hanbury had used wire to tie him to the chair. The body of the silver-haired man itself was nowhere to be seen. I was still a little dazed but I ran forward, seizing one of the metal candlesticks on the table. Hanbury was so intent on what he was doing that he never turned, and I brought it down hard on his head.
But I was too late. For even as he fell, the Doctor’s hand was already in that box and in the light of the one remaining candle Bell’s mouth opened, his hair fluttered up and he cried out in deadly pain.
I moved to him but, before I could come round the table, his cry stopped and his expression changed. He even smiled, and then, for a wonder he withdrew his hand, turning to me. ‘I suppose the Chinese detained you,’ he said, closing the box.
‘You are all right?’ I said with wonder as I untied the wire and helped him to his feet.
‘I believe so,’ he said, putting up a hand to smooth his hair and then moving to retrieve his silver-topped cane. ‘There are limits to even Hanbury’s devilry, I am glad to say. He has put one corpse down his trap tonight and I am pleased not to be another. I once told you I smelt an air of death about this place.’ Although still weak, he examined Hanbury and then looked through the curtain at the Chinese, who was as he had been.
‘Well done, Doyle,’ he said. ‘I am grateful, but I must ask another favour. As you know, I did not want suspicions aroused, but the police are not far away. Go to the end of the alley past the Lord Lovat and stand under the gas lamp. Wait a few minutes and they will be with you. I can keep a watch over things here. I suggest you take the main staircase out, it is more direct. You may see the Chinaman’s wife, but I do not think she will offer any resistance.’
I was concerned about leaving him but he insisted there could be no delay so I ran up the straight staircase at the front which I had seen on my first visit. It was dark at the top, but I knew the main door was almost opposite and found it without difficulty.
Then I was out on those steps in the cold and moving quickly down the alley. It was so icy that few were on the streets, even by the public house ahead of me, and my mind kept thinking what it must be like to fall down Hanbury’s trapdoor into the black freezing water beyond. Perhaps it was merciful that his victim was dead before he went through it.
Reaching the end of the alley, I slackened my pace, having no wish to appear suspicious, and passed the Lord Lovat. There were people here and I weaved around them until finally I reached the next street and stopped at the gas lamp. I had been told to wait a few minutes, which was not an appealing prospect in this setting, but I did my best to observe it. A couple of people stared at me, but then went on their way. Eventually I felt sure something must have gone wrong with the plan. Then I saw men emerging from the warehouse doorways up towards Shad Thames. And soon Inspector Miller was beside me, closely followed by three other police, including my sceptical friend with the moustache. ‘Is the Doctor all right?’ were Miller’s first words.
I told them he was but he needed their help at once. We went into the alley and took the place’s steps at a run, for my commission had taken far longer than I would have liked. Soon we were inside the den, trying to get our eyes accustomed to the darkness as we stumbled towards the front staircase.
My worst fears seemed to be realised when there was noise, and I heard a shout from the space below where I had left Bell. I could see a figure was at the bottom, but from the size of it I knew at once that it was not Bell and I cried out. Hanbury took one look at the police behind me and turned to go the other way. We managed the stairs at a run and reached the floor below where, to my enormous relief, I saw Bell on his feet before the curtain. In his hand was his cane and he was blocking Hanbury’s escape.
‘Hanbury, give it up,’ Miller shouted but the man obviously thought he could take Bell easily and advanced towards him. There was a gleam of vengefulness in the Doctor’s eye, for some of his strength had evidently returned and he probably relished the chance to make a better showing of himself than he had last time. I could see Hanbury had not the slightest idea of the Doctor’s agility, obviously assuming, from all he had seen so far, that his opponent was a weak old man. For this reason, he moved recklessly within range of the cane without the slightest hesitation, but the Doctor was ready and swung it directly at Hanbury’s head. Too late the man saw his danger and put up a hand, but the metal tip hit him a mighty crack under his ear and he staggered back across the room.
The Doctor shouted out, for the trapdoor was right behind him. But Hanbury was still reeling from the second blow he had sustained that night, stepped back over it, failed to find his footing and lost his balance, falling backwards right into the dark space.
I ran to it and saw a white splash about ten feet below as he entered the freezing water. It was inky black and, though we watched, there was no sign of him. I was wondering, not, I will admit very decisively, if we should attempt a rescue when I felt the Doctor’s restraining hand on my shoulder. He pointed out that on a night like this nobody was likely to come out of there alive. ‘He follows his victim, Doyle, and judging by that pitiful room of clothes upstairs, God knows how many more.’
Inspector Miller had come to stare into the water too, though the other police were almost more amazed by the Doctor’s appearance. Bell was still pale and there was a cut on his right temple, but even so he glowed with a fierce kind of energy. ‘My apologies, Inspector,’ he said. ‘While Doyle was fetching you I became so absorbed by the contents of this room,’ here he waved at a pile of papers he had pulled out of a drawer, ‘and also by that box that I neglected to check the Chinese Doyle encountered. It was too long before I went through the curtain to look for him and of course he had gone. While I was looking, Hanbury must have got up.’
‘My only regret is that we were not here to help,’ said Miller, withdrawing his eyes with difficulty from the trap. ‘But you seem to have done well enough. Hanbury was the important one. The Chinese was hardly more than his servant. But we will find him.’ And he turned to issue instructions to his men to search the rest of the premises.
‘I rather doubt that,’ said Bell as the uniformed men dispersed. ‘He and his wife will scuttle back into some other dive, but from what I can see they were mainly involved in the supply of opium. It was Hanbury who used this place for what it was, and I very much fear his main victims were derelicts.’
‘Ah, yes, and on that I have to tell you, sir,’ said Miller, looking with some fascination at the objects in the room, ‘that I had a most interesting discussion tonight with the scientist Macandrew. Of course he was utterly horrified to think the cadavers Hanbury provided were not legitimately obtained. He paid Hanbury handsomely for them, and the man even provided paperwork showing that relatives had agreed the usage.’
‘They were fraudulent, of course,’ said Bell.
‘Perhaps,’ said Inspector Miller, ‘but they seemed genuine enough.’
Bell nodded. ‘Very well. Of course I would like to have a chat with Macandrew myself to inform him of what we have found here.’
‘But now …’ Miller was advancing eagerly towards the box … ‘you must tell us exactly what was done and why, and of course what is in here.’
The box was still on the table, but Bell stepped between him and it. ‘Ah, yes. It is better to be careful.’
‘Still, you must open it,’ Inspector Miller demanded eagerly. ‘Is it some kind of snake?’
‘Far deadlier,’ said the Doctor, laying his hand on the top.
‘Then how did you survive it?’ I asked, staring at him. I was still far from clear about the details of the crimes Miller and Bell were discussing but, more than anything else, I wanted to know what was in the box and what had happened in that awful moment when for a few seconds I was sure the Doctor was a dead man.
‘I was lucky,’ he said, ‘although to tell the truth I had some slight hope I would be. Now I would ask you both to stand before it just as Doyle and I saw that poor man stand earlier.’
We did so. Bell placed a hand on either side of the box, watching our faces. He waited, and then very slowly he pulled it open.
A ghastly illumination started to shine out. Of course I had heard stories of creatures emanating their own light – large dragonflies, glow-worms and so forth – but they hardly prepared me for what I saw now.
The light was a sickly green and it was blinding. Then, as my eyes slowly adjusted, I made out something through it. A great swollen shape of almost the same colour. It had malevolent hideous eyes, a stretched scaly green skin and a massive fanged mouth. This was a reptile’s head of some kind, that was certain, but far bigger than any I had ever seen or knew to exist. And it pulsed with a disgusting energy, which trapped the eye. I could understand now the source of all those stories. Anyone seeing this would undoubtedly believe they had witnessed something unnatural. The wide fanged mouth seemed to entice you, but there was no body.
‘What in heaven’s name is it?’ I exclaimed, putting out my hand to feel the glow.
‘No,’ said Bell. ‘Do not go near it.’ And he slammed the lid of the box shut with such force that I had to snatch my hand back.
‘But you touched it,’ I said.
‘And it hurt too. But very fortunately its power was waning. Since then I have examined it and restored it, so it is now almost as potent as when it last killed.’
Both Miller and I looked at him, baffled.
‘I will show you,’ he said. And from a compartment in the base of the box he took out a long metal handle. He placed it in an aperture in the side and slowly at first, but then more quickly he began to turn it. ‘Now observe,’ he said. ‘I will demonstrate the full extent for you, but please do not even lift your hand.’ And once again he opened the box.
The horrible head was still there but a remarkable thing was happening. For as Bell turned the handle, the light inside was getting brighter and brighter. Soon it was dazzlingly bright and we had almost to shield our eyes.
‘There is nothing alive here,’ said Bell. ‘At least in any conventional sense. Take away the trappings, which are in their way extraordinary, and you will find a dynamo, to which Hanbury gained access through Macandrew. Indeed you saw him carry it out of the Polytechnic exhibition, Doyle. The head you see is the preserved head of a reticulated python, no doubt bought from a sailor.’
‘You are not saying he did this with Macandrew’s knowledge?’ said Miller.
Bell hesitated. ‘No, I suppose I am persuaded the scientist could not have known. Inside the head you will find an electric contact which can convey up to three hundred and fifty watts of what is called alternating current, wrapped in a lethal wire. This is originated when you turn the handle, but the power is also stored and augmented by a powerful battery. Here is what killed Jenny Galton and made her corpse so strange to Doyle. It also did for Harriet Lowther when Hanbury transported it to her room. In her constant toings and froings on the dockside she had no doubt seen far more of what went on in this den than Hanbury liked. The poor woman thought she could get money from him but he lured her with the prospect of seeing the fabulous head. And she saw it all right, just like the legion of people whose clothes are upstairs. Dozens of intoxicated opium seekers were seen off here, all valuables stripped from them before being dumped through that hatch. Many were picked up a day or so later by Hanbury on the river and went to Macandrew as raw materials for his investigations. But whenever these poor victims were dragged out of the river and assessed by your pathologists, their death would always be put down to drowning or simple heart attack.’
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