Steampunk Jack

Chapter Thirteen Souvenirs

Several hours later saw James, along with Elbert and the spectral Anne, sitting in a cheap pub in a section of London that made Whitechapel appear like a noble estate in comparison. Fortunately, Elbert, who knew where they were going, had instructed James to dress in his most worn work clothes.

On the way the scoundrel had shoved James, unsuspecting, into a puddle of discarded cleaning water. “Sorry gov, but your clothes are too pretty for a place like the Happy Harpy. With a bit of mud on you, we might get out without being mugged.”

Grumbling, and peering askance, again, at Elbert’s much finer clothing, James still hadn’t forgiven him in spite of now being dry. “How much longer?”

“Not much… actually.” Elbert, now all friendly smiles instead of the crude grins he’d continually shot James, stood and held out a hand in greeting to an approaching man. “Mr. Douglas, good to see you again.”

“And you, Mr. Campbell.” The man's suspicious gaze turned to James, who had also stood. “Who is this?”

“My… Associate, James. He’s an interested party, like myself.”

“I don’t deal with strangers, or those what bring strangers to me. Good evening Elbert.” The man turned, pulling his cloak around him to walk out of the pub.

“I have money.” James hissed. “A large sum. Just show me your wares and I swear I won’t speak of it to anyone.”

“A large sum, eh.” The stranger said, looking over his shoulder at the inventor. He turned to face him, opening his cloak so the other man could see the firearm holstered under his arm. “You better be telling me the truth, sir, or you will be less than pleased with the outcome.”

“Come on Mr. Douglas, no need to threaten anyone.” Elbert laughed softly, sweating profusely.

“I think, maybe, you shouldn’t go James.” Anne interjected. “This man might do you harm and… I’m already dead. I don’t want you to join me.”

“Sit down, sir, and show me your merchandise.” James stated, ignoring Anne’s plea. “You will be happy with the outcome, if your wares are what Elbert assures me, they are.”

“Not here.” The rogue constable said, shaking his head. “There’s a warehouse with a jimmied lock next door. I’ll show you the goods there.”

“Then lead the way.”

The three men, and one invisible woman, left the pub after James dropped a few coins on the table. Within minutes they were standing amid crates and bound packages which smelled of fish. “Now show me.” James instructed, setting a newly lit lantern on one of the casks.

The dark cloaked man nodded, and began pulling items out of pockets concealed in his cloak’s depths. A small vial, with a flash of steel in the flame’s light was quickly joined by two distinct locks of hair, and various other items. “All of these came from the most recent crime scenes. Bloody things they were, too, with parts missing from both doxies.”

“I was no doxy you bastard!” Anne hissed. James, frowning at the man, resisted the urge to jump to the lovely dark haired woman’s defense as well.

“I’m only interested in the items from Anne Campbell’s murder.” he said. “Which are those.”

“Specific, eh? You aren’t the killer yourself, are you.” The copper asked, with a smile that suggested he didn’t much care either way.

“I have an alibi.” James replied shortly, mostly for Elbert’s sake since Anne’s cousin had looked at him with a sudden, dawning fear.

“What was that, then?” The dark man requested, pocketing half the goods while looking at the professor.

“None of your business, to be frank.” James replied. “Now, how much for it all.”

“For all of it? You tell me. How much you got?”

James frowned. He knew he was being set up to be given the run around, but he wasn’t going to fall for that trap. If for no other reason, than he didn’t want the despicable little man to get more then he absolutely had to. “Twenty pounds.”

“Twenty?” The man growled and moved to pick up the items. “I thought you were serious. I outta take the twenty just to not put a bullet in your arse.”

James grabbed the man’s wrist, barely preventing himself from gasping along with Elbert and Anne at the bold action. He hadn’t consciously decided to do it and was just as surprised as them. “This is called negotiation.” He managed to say, without stuttering. “Tell me how much you want, instead.”

“From a bloke offering me twenty? Probably more then you have.” The copper snarled. “Let me go.”

“Perhaps a hundred would be more to your liking?” James said, as he released the man’s arm. “Would that be more reasonable?”

“It would be… closer.” The man's eyes ran over James, more calculating than before. “Two hundred would be right on the spot.”

James had the two hundred, he had three, which was the most he normally kept on hand. He considered just paying it for a moment, but his revulsion for the man stopped him. “One twenty-five.”

“Stingy one, eh.” The rogue policeman chuckled. “I’ll consider One seventy-five… and I’ll even throw in this.” From behind a nearby bundle he pulled out a jar. Filled with a liquid that James assumed was alcohol, a fleshy lump floated inside of it. “This would be Anne Campbell’s heart. It was cut loose at the scene, wouldn’t you know.”

Anne gasped and began to dry heave. James couldn’t help but look at her, barely biting off asking if she was okay. “I… I’m going to go outside. I… think I need air.” She gasped out.

“I understand.” James said in a soft voice, and then jerked as he remembered the other two men were present. “Your offer, I mean. I’ll go for one seventy-five…”

Anne sighed as she stepped through the building’s wall, onto the cobblestone streets of London town. She shook her head.

The horror of seeing her own heart, floating in a solution for preservation like a laboratory experiment from a penny awful, had been more than she could have described. Still, once out of its presence, she felt a wave of grim humor pass over her. “Well, I suppose now I can tease James about being the man who owns my heart.” she muttered.

“What’s he doing now?” A male voice whispered from nearby, causing her to jerk and abandon her dark thoughts in favor of finding the speaker. He, and another man, were standing by the wall in shadows thick enough that she hadn’t noticed them right off, looking through a pane of glass in the warehouse’s windows.

“Paying Scottie… And my, oh my, his wallet is still quite thick, too.”

“Ohh… The constable was right! This is going to be much better than just robbing drunks near the Harpy.” The other man cackled softly, rubbing his hands together. “Oh, get into place. It seems he’s finishing business.”

Both men rushed to each side of the warehouses entrance, pulling heavy truncheons from their coats.

For a moment Anne couldn’t understand what they were saying, but finally it hit her. These men planned to rob James and Elbert, and the man inside was part of their plot!

Anne pushed through the wall in a rush, finding James shaking the other man’s hand as Elbert put his purchases into a burlap sack. “There are robbers out here! This man was going to mug you after you bought! There are two men out here with clubs!” she yelled.

James froze. Anne’s voice had been a surprise but what she said was what stopped him. In his mind the plot formed, and James cursed himself as a fool. Thinking fast, or not at all… later he wouldn’t be able to say which… James asked “Say, that one lock of hair… are you sure that wasn’t form Anne Campbell as well?”

“What? No. That’s from the second victim of the new murders.” The constable replied, opening his cloak to reach for the hair.

Viper quick, and without so much deciding to do it as reacting to the chance, James snatched the copper’s pistol from his holster and pulled back the hammer. “Don’t move, and don’t yell.” He hissed.

“James… what’s going on?” Elbert asked softly, frozen by the sudden appearance of a gun in the innocent seeming professor’s hand.

“This… wanker… was planning to rob us!” James replied. “He’s got blokes at the door ready to jump us. Bar the door.”

Elbert, not asking questions, ran to the door and pulled down a cross bar meant for the job. “Done, but how are you so sure?” He whispered.

“Elementary.” James growled. “He was going to have them mug us, take our money and his evidence back, and come morning I wager anyone peeking in the files and property room at Scotland Yard would have found everything right where its supposed to be.”

“Very good. A fan of Doyle, are you.” The copper said calmly, holding his hands up where they were easily seen. “I point out, Mr. James, that you are pointing a weapon at a member of Her Majesty’s police.”

“No… I’m pointing it at a crook claiming to be a copper.” James replied. “There’s a bit of a difference.”

“Not much compared to a man buying evidence as sick souvenirs.” The policeman replied. “Or perhaps it’s a sick sexual thing… collecting parts from dead doxies.”

“Anne isn’t a doxie.”

“Wasn’t, you mean. Was she a friend of yours?”

Before James could snap out an answer, the doors of the warehouse bulged inwards with a heavy force. “James, I think they noticed their plan went pear shaped.” Elbert called out, backing away from the door.

James cursed. “Is there a back way out?”

“Wait!” Elbert ran over and snatched up the lantern, running behind some items. “Here! There’s one here!”

“Turn around.” James instructed the copper.

Hesitantly, the man obliged him. “I’m not leaving with you. I’m not that stupid. Tell you what, you drop the gun and leave the evidence and I’ll let you and your friend go.” He offered, as though it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

James answered by cracking the back of the man's skull with his own revolver. As the man crumpled to the floor James muttered “No thanks, I’ll just be off.”

He ran after Elbert’s voice, amazed to find the other man waiting for him at the open door. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” James returned.

Five minutes of heavy running later, Anne keeping up mostly by resignedly letting her link to James pull her along. They came to a stop on a bridge crossing the Thames. “That, I think, is something I don’t wish to do again.” James admitted.

“I don’t know, Jimmy… you got the makings of a right proper villain.” Elbert said, laughing. James glared at him, just causing the man to laugh harder.

“Yes, but now I’ve stolen a policeman’s revolver, and he will most likely report me to his superiors.”

“No… that he won’t do.” Elbert disagreed. “He’ll find his self a pawn shop with a revolver and buy it, sure'n as the day is long, but he won’t be coming after you. To do so, he would have to explain why an obviously well off bloke like yourself would rob him. He’d end up in the prison cell next to your own.” The con-man man shrugged. “Toss the pistol in the drink, and then we’ll go and buy a beer to celebrate a night of roguish fun. I mean, how many blokes can say they robbed a copper?”

James, smiling despite himself, did as instructed and tossed the pistol into the river. “Come along. I am a bit thirsty.”

“As you should be gov… though I hesitate to point out one part of bad form.” Elbert said, mirth filling his tone.

“Yes?”

“Well… when you had yonder gun… couldn’t you have taken your coin back from the fellow?”

James hesitated mid step, and thought about that for a moment. “Bugger me… you’re right!”

As both men laughed, Anne just shook her head. “Blimey… they get along. This is not good, Anne. Not good at all.”