Chapter 19 #2
“I will allow you to go, Moorgate,” Hammond called after him, almost amused in his steadiness, “but I will expect you to take up your seat in Westminster quietly and efficiently and to vote in whichever way I tell you.”
Jonathan’s father paused at the top of the stairs to glance back at Hammond, nodded once, then fled to the upper halls.
“The rest of you have a choice,” Hammond said, glancing around at them. “You remain silent about what you have seen here and do as I say or you become an accomplice to murder.”
As if to underscore his point, one of the men the constable had sent off to investigate the house came striding back into the front hall.
“I heard a loud noise,” the man said.
Those were his last words. Hammond raised his gun once more and shot the man twice in the head.
Jonathan jolted with each loud blast, his knees feeling like they might give way. He should have taken Charlie and run, though if he had, Hammond might have killed them, too. He still might at that.
“Find the third one and kill him,” Hammond addressed the footmen.
They both nodded and started off the way the third man had gone.
“As for the rest of you,” Hammond said, addressing them all, “you have witnessed nothing here tonight. Return to your rooms and tuck yourselves in for a long and pleasant sleep. We will all part ways happily in the morning, and I will send word to you when I need your assistance.”
He nodded, then plucked a handkerchief from his pocket and used it to wipe the barrel of his handgun.
“Frome, have someone clean up this mess,” he said without a care in the world, not looking at Frome or anyone else, as he walked to the stairs and up.
Everyone left behind was frozen in horror. Jonathan wished that he had enough courage to stand up to Hammond. The man had just killed two people in cold blood. He’d killed them, and he’d threatened to blame anyone who did not go along with him for the murders.
“You heard the man,” Dalhurst said, speaking for the first time since the confrontation began. “Go back to your rooms and think about where your loyalties lie. We will contact you when necessary.”
Still, no one moved. Jonathan was no longer certain his legs worked. Beside him, Charlie was shaking as if he stood in the middle of a mountain of snow and ice.
Charlie. He needed him. Jonathan might not have been able to stop murders and kidnapping, but he could save Charlie. He leaned closer to him, letting go of his hand so that he could throw an arm around Charlie’s shoulder.
He leaned in to kiss the side of Charlie’s head and whispered, “The door is still open. We can run.”
Charlie gulped and sobbed, then nodded imperceptibly.
“I suppose there’s nothing for it,” Thomas said, his eyes wide in shock and his voice hoarse. “Come along, Copeland. We should do as the man said.” He touched his hand to the small of Copeland’s back, nudging him toward the stairs. “You, too, Moorgate.”
He glanced across the hall to Jonathan and Charlie. Jonathan was inclined to ignore him and rush for the door, but something about the spark in Thomas’s eyes made him change his mind.
“Charlie?” he asked, looking down to where Charlie had turned his head to bury his face against Jonathan’s shoulder.
Charlie glanced up. He was terrified, but underneath that fear, Jonathan could see calculation and resolve. He glanced over to Thomas, who stared intently at him, then up at Jonathan again.
He nodded.
That was all Jonathan needed. Without looking at Dalhurst or the two bodies that bloodied the floor in the front hall, he shifted, arm still around Charlie’s shoulders, and started to walk toward the stairs.
He felt as if he were walking to the gallows. The danger Hammond and Dalhurst presented was too great to defeat. There were likely still shadowy men scattered all around Fairford House who would slit their throats or shoot them dead if they attempted to flee now.
They were trapped.
“I just wanted a bit of fun,” Copeland said, his voice thin and his face pale as he and Thomas joined Jonathan and Charlie in marching up the stairs. “It was supposed to be a lark, not…not this.”
“There’s a reason they say ‘lead me not into temptation’,” Thomas said, thumping the man’s back as they made it to the top of the stairs and started down the corridor to some of the guest rooms. “The leading is fun, but once you’re there, you’re in Hell.”
The truth of those words turned Jonathan’s stomach. He’d let himself be led straight into Perdition, and he didn’t even know who to blame.
They delivered Copeland to his room, and as soon as the door was closed, Jonathan expected they would walk on to his and Charlie’s rooms and seal their fate.
Thomas’s entire countenance changed as soon as the door clicked shut. “Come with me,” he said in a low whisper.
Jonathan’s eyes went wide at the sudden change. He had no choice but to trust the man as he picked up his pace, heading back the way they’d come. Halfway down the hall, they ducked into a servants’ staircase going down.
“I know you have questions,” Thomas said as they turned a corner, the bags Jonathan and Charlie carried bumping clumsily against the narrow space. “I do not have time to answer them. You must make your way to The Zagreus Den as quickly as possible. It’s the only place you’ll be safe.”
Jonathan stopped cold once they reached a landing.
“Why should I walk right back into the snare of the men who sent me into this nightmare?” he demanded in a whisper. “Are they planning to kill me the way Hammond, their brother, killed the constable and his men?”
The stairwell was nearly completely dark, but there was just enough light coming in through a window to see the seriousness in Thomas’s eyes.
“Brutus and Titus were wrong not to explain everything to you,” Thomas said. “But they wanted you to have plausible deniability if everything fell apart.”
“Not good enough,” Jonathan said, leaning threateningly toward Thomas. “Why should I trust you about anything? I do not even know if you are one of them or one of Hammond’s lackeys.”
Thomas huffed impatiently. “I am a member of The Zagreus Den,” he said. “There isn’t time to explain more.”
“Explain some, then,” Jonathan growled, refusing to go farther.
Even in the dark, it was clear Thomas was frustrated.
“Yes, it is true. Hammond is Brutus and Titus’s brother,” he snapped.
“The three of them grew up on the streets of East London, lying and cheating and whoring to survive.
They were successful at all of that and made something of themselves.
They created what would later become The Zagreus Den, but Hammond was greedy and selfish.
Brutus and Titus are criminals, yes, but they do not keep the profits of their sins.
They have only ever wanted to help the people of the world they were raised in.
“Hammond is selfish and evil,” Thomas went on, gesturing for Jonathan and Charlie to keep moving, as if the continuation of the story was the carrot he used to get them to follow.
“He thinks of nothing but power and wealth. Brutus and Titus have sworn to stop him, but that does not mean they are saints.”
“They sent me to battle a criminal and made me a criminal in the process,” Jonathan hissed as they neared the bottom of the stairs.
There were two doors in the landing at the bottom, one that must have led into the servants’ hall and one that would take them outside. Thomas put his hand on the handle of the door that would take them outside.
“You were already a criminal,” he told Jonathan, surprised Jonathan did not already see that. “Or did you think that the authorities in London would simply laugh off your pornography and disregard the fact that the majority of the young men whose images you have circulated have gone missing?”
Cold dread and regret knotted heavily in Jonathan’s stomach. “I did not know,” he said.
“Did not know that distributing salacious images of young men you’d plucked off the street was illegal?” Thomas asked.
Jonathan remained silent.
Thomas stared at him for a few more seconds before pulling open the door and gesturing for Jonathan and Charlie to follow him outside.
To Jonathan’s surprise, a carriage was waiting only a few yards away from that door, which let out into one of the side gardens. The carriage looked completely out of place against the nighttime backdrop of rose bushes and hedges.
“You do not have to be a part of any of this,” Thomas said as he led them to the carriage, where the driver was waiting beside the door.
“Albert here will take you wherever you wish to go. You could return to London, escape to the north or west, or you could take a ship to anywhere in the world. But the odds of Hammond catching up to you are high.”
Jonathan winced, reaching for Charlie’s hand.
“Or you can go to The Zagreus Den as soon as possible,” Thomas went on.
“You can explain what transpired here to Brutus and Titus. They will not be surprised. You can give them the photographs I know you still carry with you, and you can ask them for shelter. They will give it. The choice is yours.”
It was not much of a choice at all. Despite the cool calm of the Wiltshire countryside and the quiet around them, Jonathan was as close to death as he’d ever been.
“We’ll take the carriage for now,” he said, ushering Charlie forward into the carriage. “I do not know what we will do from here.”
“Fair enough,” Thomas said with a nod, helping Jonathan climb into the carriage and making certain their bags were settled. “If I can send the rest of your belongings after you, I will.”
Jonathan nodded tightly, sinking into the darkened seat.
“What will you do?” Charlie asked in a tremulous voice, leaning forward so he could see Thomas.
Thomas smiled at him. “Don’t you worry about me, boy,” he said with a wink.
“I’m cleverer than the lot of them in there.
” He gestured with his thumb back to the house.
“Go now. I’ve advised Albert to keep driving through the night before dropping you at a train station.
It’s best you keep moving, and that you move in unexpected ways so that Hammond does not know how to follow you. ”
Jonathan nodded again, glad to have a plan, but not feeling better because of it.
“Thank you,” Charlie whispered as Thomas stepped forward to shut the door.
A pinch of guilt hit Jonathan’s chest. He should have thanked Thomas for saving their lives as well, but he was not yet convinced they’d actually been saved.