“I see.” Julius filed that tidbit away for future reference. Something about the name Bonner pulled at the strings of his memory, but there wasn’t time to delve into it now. Pulling back on the reins, Julius nudged his horse into the shadows. “Allan entered that building.”
Sutton dropped to the ground. “We’re in a business district. I don’t think it’s his private rooms.”
“The man’s supposed to be an attorney. His office, perhaps?” Julius dismounted and tied his reins to a porch rail. “Let’s go find out.”
The bells of St. Katherine’s tolled, and Max bumped Julius with his shoulder. “What say we get a drink at Simon’s after we question the man? We’re awfully close to the club and it’s a miserable night.”
Julius grunted. It depended on how the interrogation went whether he would need that drink or not. Otherwise, Amanda would warm him up better than alcohol.
They pushed through the narrow door and faced a short hallway with one door on either side, a rear exit at the end, and a steep staircase leading to the second floor. Julius checked the doors on the first level. One held a sign reading:Caritas, An Association for Benevolent Aid; the other,Feathered Friends, An Ornithological Society.
Sutton climbed the stairs, silent for such a large man, while Julius pressed his ear against the bird watchers’ door, listening for any movement.
The back door creaked open. Allan stood on the threshold, one foot hovering above the ground, eyes rounding in surprise as he caught sight of Julius. He turned tail and ran back into the rain.
Hollering for Max, Julius raced down the hall and burst out the back door into a small yard where the privy stood. A side gate slammed shut, and Julius ran for it, kicking it open.
Max pushed out the front door and fell into step beside Julius. They ran down alleys, darted through cross-streets, slowly gaining on their quarry. Allan had the leg length for sprinting, but no stamina.
The attorney raced across the steps of St. Katherine’s and around its side. Sutton and Julius pounded into the narrow alley and drew up short. Two strange men stood in their path. The door in the side of the church squeaked shut. Julius took a step towards it, and one of the men got in his way. The ruffian wore a cloak with a patch on its right shoulder. Small craters marked his face.
Julius clenched his fists. So the man who had blackmailed young Audley was also his murderer. He would pay dearly for both crimes tonight.
“More company,” Max murmured.
Keeping his back pressed to Max’s, Julius turned his head, saw two more men block off their exit from the alley. The gas lamps from the street made the men’s shadows stretch long against the side of the church.
Sutton cracked his neck. “Four to two. It could be worse.”
Julius smiled grimly. It had been worse. Many times. Something glinted in one of the men’s hands, and Julius’s smile dimmed. He shrugged out of his coat.
“I don’t suppose you gentlemen would care to introduce yourselves?” Julius asked. “No? Unmarked graves for all, then.”
The man with the knife lunged forward. Julius threw his coat at him, and the man stumbled, batting it away. Grabbing the hand holding the knife, Julius twisted the wrist until the man shrieked and dropped the blade. He sensed movement behind him and tossed the man to the ground before spinning to face the next attack.
Audley’s killer swung at his head, and Julius ducked. Quick as a snake, he swept the man’s legs out from under him. A desire to toy with the animal, to inflict as much pain as possible, took root in Julius’s mind. But when his opponent picked up the knife of his confederate, Julius’s thoughts focused on survival.
He jumped back when the man swung the blade in a wide arc. It caught the edge of Julius’s coat. Blood pounded through his body and he steeled himself to wait for the man’s next move.
Following the same path, the attacker brought his arm back across his body, slicing the blade through the air. And leaving his center exposed. Julius seized his opportunity. He leapt forward and struck the heel of his palm into the man’s throat, watching him crumble to the ground while clawing uselessly at his neck. It didn’t take long for him to suffocate.
Max sighed. “Did you have to do that? Now we only have three to interrogate.”
The other men pounced, and Sutton was too busy fighting for further recriminations. Julius blocked a punch, grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it behind his back. With a yank, the man’s arm popped twice, broken in two places, and he fell to his knees screaming.
Julius kicked him in the back and moved on to his next victim. Sutton had one man by the throat and was covering his head to deflect the blows from another. Julius grabbed his friend’s attacker from behind and wrapped his arm around his neck. He squeezed.
The man struggled, arms flailing, making glancing contact with Julius’s head. He clawed at Julius’s arm, his blows growing weaker. The man tapped once, twice, on Julius’s elbow, then sagged in his arms. Julius maintained his grip as he brought the man to the ground.
After fifteen seconds of zero movement, Julius released him and let the man flop to his back. Julius pushed to his feet and headed for the door Allan had disappeared into.
Max shook his hand and stepped over the body of the man he’d laid out. “Interrogations usually work better when people are left conscious.”
Julius jerked his head at the man with the broken arm. He lay curled in a ball, cradling his elbow and moaning. “I left one awake. Besides, who are you to talk?’ Pointing at Max’s victim, he tugged the door open and strode inside. Only to pull up short.
Max ran into his back and cursed. “It’s blacker than pitch in here.”
Reaching his hands out, Julius felt the rough stone walls close on either side of him. Too close. Sweat beaded at his temples. He tried to suck down a deep breath, but the air was thick. Heavy.
