From Hell (8 page)

I waggled a finger in her face to shut
her up and peered down the adjoining street. Quickly snatching my
hand away before she could rip something off, I turned and gave her
a triumphant smile.

“
He’s
who we’re looking for.” I motioned around the corner with my
eyes.

Scarlett crept up to the
edge and glanced down the walk before turning back to me. She
raised her arms in a silent question.
Why?

“
You’ll see.” I looked
again, waiting until the giggling woman wandered off with
her
date
, and
then waved Scarlett forward. “I need you to do
something.”

She sighed and gave me her ‘No’ look.
“We’re family, Frank. It’s never going to happen.”

“
Not that.” Though I had
to admit, now that I was thinking about it… “Anyway, just step
around the corner and call out for Wally. And try not to scare the
guy.” I motioned to her blades.

“
Wally?” She raised an
eyebrow. “You’ve been in town two days and you already know the
local pimp’s name?”

“
What can I say? It’s a
gift,” I answered. “Just do it, please.”

“
Is this our
killer?”

“
No, but he might lead us
to him.” I hoped she’d leave it at that.

She did. Scarlett groaned under her
breath and tugged her sword belt off, handing it to me before
stepping around the corner and calling out to the pimp. Had it been
me she was shouting for, I’d have run for my life, but Wally
apparently didn’t have an ear for danger. There was nothing
remotely suggestive or seductive about the tone of Scarlett’s
voice. In fact, it sounded like a harpy mother calling a boy home
for a spanking.

But then again…

Wally sauntered over without
hesitation, boots scraping over the cobblestones and telling me
exactly where he was. “Do I know you, girl?” he asked.

I didn’t hear Scarlett’s answer so I
assumed she just shook her head. That didn’t stop him from walking
right up to her, fool that he was. Despite her tone, one look at
Scarlett put all the other women in his life to shame. Even dressed
down like a ragamuffin, she was the most beautiful woman he’d
likely ever seen, even in his dreams. If for no reason other than
to take a closer look, he’d respond to her. That’s what I was
counting on.

His boots thumped to a stop in front
of Scarlett, and I knew I had him. I dug my Webley out and darted
around the corner, burying the barrel in his cheek. My other hand
wrapped around his throat.

“
Keep your mouth shut and
I won’t blow a hole in your face. Understand?”

He swallowed against my palm and
nodded, eyes bouncing between Scarlett and me. I dragged him around
the corner and out of sight just in case one of his girls came
back. We needed some quality time together, and I didn’t want any
interruptions.

“
Who is he?” Scarlett
asked.

“
This is
Wally.”

She rolled her eyes as I
forced the pimp to his knees. “I know
that
. I mean…oh, never mind.”
Scarlett cast an exasperated glance up at the sky.

I chuckled and smiled at Wally. “Be a
good boy and you won’t get shot.” Letting loose of his throat, I
reached down and pulled his coat open and wormed my hand past the
collar of his shirt. Wally stiffened and looked to
Scarlett.

She raised her hands. “Don’t look at
me. His perversions are his alone. I’m not a part of this little…”
she wiggled her fingers at us both, “whatever it is.”

My hand wrapped about the heavy chain
that hung low against his chest, the cold metal tingling against my
fingers. I snatched it up and sighed as the necklace popped into
view. There in my palm sat a silver pentagram; the same one that
had punctured my hand when Wally and I first tangled.

The amused expression on Scarlett’s
face morphed into one of rage, deep lines carving a trail from her
crystalline eyes. “Damn it, Frank. He is working for
Lu—”

“
No,” I said, cutting her
off before she could get started, “he isn’t.” I leaned against the
pistol, grinding the barrel into Wally’s face. He grunted and tried
to sink into the wall behind him. “You and I are going to have a
little chat. And so you’re aware, those perversions my dear cousin
back there alluded to aren’t just confined to the realm of sex. I
like to mix my pleasures. Meat is meat, you know, and there are
plenty of ways to satisfy a hunger if a person is creative enough.
And, oh, trust me, I’m more than creative.” I let the gun slide
down his cheek and across his chest until the barrel nestled
uncomfortably in the bunched cloth at his groin. He started to
tremble.

Scarlett made a disgusted face and
turned her back on us. I was pretty sure she knew I was bluffing or
she wouldn’t have let me take it this far, but still, her response
only helped reinforce my threat, intentional or
otherwise.

“
Wha-what do you want?”
Wally stumbled over his words as he tried to spit them
out.

The Bull Dog’s hammer came
back with a loud
click
as I glanced down at his feet. Though there weren’t any
distinguishing marks on the heels of his boots, I was pretty
certain the size was a match for the bloody prints in the
apartment; the ones nearest the wards. Maybe the other guy
was
Jack. That kind of
screwed the sheep named Presumption. “Where’s your
partner?”

“
I don’t know who
you’re—”

I wiggled the gun, pressing it against
one of his testicles hard enough to hurt. “I wonder what kind of
respect a nutless pimp would get out here on the streets. Think
your girls would stick around? What about your clients?” Another
push of the gun had him squirming. He might not have the answers I
was looking for, but I figured if I pushed hard enough, I’d get
something. “You know who I’m talking about, so stop fucking
lying.”

Wally tore his gaze from the gun at
his crotch and looked up at me. Tears glistened in his eyes.
“I…I…”

A tilt of my head and a little more
pressure on the gun made sure he understood he was running out of
time. The trigger squeaked as my finger eased against its
resistance. “Tell me where Jack is.”

His eyes narrowed, and then he nodded
quickly. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you.”

Though she didn’t make a sound, I saw
Scarlett’s shoulders slump out of the corner of my eye, and I
suddenly had a newfound respect for her. For all her angelic
morality, it looked like she would have let me do what was needed
so we could stop the Ripper.

I grinned. There was hope for her
yet.

Ten

Though it turned out that Wally didn’t
know anywhere near as much as I hoped, he knew just enough to be
useful.

After getting all the information I
could, I slammed the pistol grip into his skull and knocked him
unconscious. While I was tempted to just shoot the bastard, I
couldn’t be sure as to his part in the murders as he hadn’t
confessed to anything more than knowing about them. Still, I
couldn’t let him run off and warn folks Scarlett and I were coming,
so I dragged his stupid ass to the nearest police headquarters.
There, I tossed him on the steps once I was sure I wouldn’t be
seen, and then pounded on the door hard enough to splinter the
wood.

I’d heard officers spilling out of the
station as I ran down the alley to meet back up with Scarlett.
Though I couldn’t be sure what the bobbies would do with Wally, it
was a pretty safe bet they’d keep him until at least morning, if
only to tend to the knot on his head and try and figure out where
it came from. That would give us enough time to follow up on what
he’d told us without his interference.

As it turned out, he’d more than just
one partner. Wally was part of a local cabal into the dark arts.
Satanism.

That thrilled Scarlett to no end, let
me tell you. My hopes of snaking that by her were shot down when
the pimp had started to yap.

“
Do you still refuse to
admit that Hell is involved?”

Sitting outside a rundown home, at the
edge of Whitechapel, where Wally had directed us, I had to admit I
was even less certain than ever. I knew damn well my uncle was
hardly a paragon of innocence and that he’d manufactured far more
than his share of chaos in the world, but it didn’t make much sense
to do it so blatantly. And why would he send me to investigate the
murders if all they did was confirm Hell’s involvement? What could
he hope to gain by that?

He and God had settled into a cold
war, of sorts, in recent years, neither side making any overt moves
that would upset the relative peace that had settled over the
eternal battlefield. These murders, if they led back to Lucifer’s
doorstep, would do exactly that, and I couldn’t see how that
benefited my uncle. There had to be more to it than some power
play.

“
Lucifer has nothing to do
with it,” I told her, forcing the words out to sound
confident.

“
What about the
others?”

I sighed because that was
exactly what I didn’t want to think about. What
about
the lieutenants?

While I didn’t imagine Baalth would do
something so stupid—he was in too tight with Uncle Lou to rattle
that cage—I could imagine a few of the others taking the chance if
it suited their purposes. Asmoday, for one, Belial, Belphegor, and
quite likely Royce, as well, were all possible suspects. None had
taken too kindly to the idea of peace with Heaven, however
informal, preferring to wage war until the golden throne burned in
the skies. If they could stir the pot and get away with it, they
would, no doubt about that. They wouldn’t necessarily risk open
defiance of Lucifer’s wishes, but a subversive ploy to draw the two
sides back into conflict wouldn’t be something out of the realm of
possibility.

“
I don’t know,” I
answered. There wasn’t much point in trying to lie to
her.

Scarlett knew what the demon
lieutenants were capable of, especially given the circumstances of
her birth. But even if I cleared my uncle, Metatron might not care
if it turned out the others were involved. Under Lucifer’s charge,
the lieutenants were his responsibility. The chaos they committed
was on his shoulders, and they knew that all too well. If things
went south, they’d be the ones to capitalize.

“
Damn it.”

Scarlett gave me a sympathetic look
before turning her attention back to the ramshackle house. I’ve
always liked to think of myself as being different than her, my
background and experiences far less sheltered, far less narrow in
their focus, and yet, at times like this, Scarlett often proved
just how similar we really were. As much as I wanted to refute a
demonic bias for a more realistic view of the world and our
respective sides, I was just as much a blind sycophant as she was.
We both followed orders and trusted those giving them, even when we
questioned the commands themselves. I could easily picture the
lieutenants stabbing Lucifer in the back, but it wasn’t something I
really thought about…until now. The image soured my stomach.
Fortunately, Scarlett gave me an easy out.

“
There’s no point waiting
any longer,” she said.

I had to agree. We’d watched the house
Wally had directed us to for a couple hours by then. No one had
come or gone since we’d been there, and dawn was creeping up behind
us while we waited. Streaks of light had crept into the sky,
setting the dark clouds to glowing. Though it hadn’t rained on us,
it looked as if it were getting ready to. That wouldn’t stop London
from waking up, though.

There hadn’t been but a couple of
pedestrians who stumbled through the area during our vigil. Mostly
drunks who tied one on a little too tight, and they were gone as
quick as their leadened feet could carry them. No one else out and
about, if we were gonna do something foolish, now was the
time.

“
All right. Let’s
go.”

Scarlett nodded, and the two of us
dropped down from the roof of the low-lying apartment across the
street and went over to the home.

The white paint of its exterior had
long since been worn to gray by exposure. It had peeled back in
several places, revealing the blackened, rotting wood underneath,
furry mold having claimed its surface with a vengeance. The windows
at the front were boarded and reinforced with a haphazard array of
wood pieces in varying lengths and shapes. There was no uniformity
to it, just a bunch of random pieces slapped onto the frame and
nailed into place. It wasn’t much in the way of security, but there
was no way anyone could make their way through the window without
alerting the folks inside.

The front door, however, was
different. Though the paint had been worn down and covered with
dirt, it was clear the door was a more recent addition to the home.
The surface was marred and pitted, tiny pieces cut and hammered
from its surface, but the wood that showed underneath the scarring
was brown and sturdy. There was none of the fuzzy green or black
that stood out like it did on the walls. No, whoever had installed
this door had purposely tried to make it look like the rest of the
house, worn and worthless.