Table of Contents – (spoilers)
Peep jogged through the side streets of Spitzer through the dark, heading through the residential area towards the pleasure quarter’s intersection with Fort Road. She was thoroughly covered in blood.
It was just past dinnertime and the night was warm, so there were a few folks out in the street enjoying the evening air. However, there was no street lighting, and the good folk of Spitzer were not about to waste their money on candles or lamp oil to do that themselves, so Peep had no trouble getting through town without incident. None of the people she passed noticed her bloody state, or thought anything remarkable about a boy scampering through the night.
Peep slipped through a back alley onto Fort Road just a little south of The Red Ox. She was relieved to see that Sergeant Neil was standing with his man in the middle of the intersection in front of The Busted Unicorn, keeping an eye on Fort Road and the pleasure quarter both. She ran straight for the soldiers.
“Help! Help! Mister! Mister! Help!” Peep screamed as she neared them.
The intersection was fairly well lit, so no one there missed the state of her. A few of the men around shouted or yelled at the sight of all the blood on her tunic.
“Oh! Oh no! What did he do, lad! Where’s yar mother?” Sergeant Neil shouted.
“Help! This way! Come quick!” Peep yelled. She then turned on her heel and scampered up Fort Road towards the fort before the soldiers could get too close a look at her.
Sergeant Neil paused just long enough to give a long, shrill blast of his whistle. Then he ran after Peep. His man followed a little more slowly, but with his whistle firmly in his teeth, blowing an alarm every few seconds.
“Oh, what did he do, lad? Where’s yar mother?” Sergeant Neil repeated as he caught up to Peep.
Now past The Red Ox, the street was dark, so Peep fell into stride alongside Sergeant Neil.
“It weren’t him, mister! They came outta the dark and killed them! Then they grabbed my mom! Oh, ye gotta save her!” Peep hollered.
Sergeant Neil stopped short and grabbed Peep by the arm to stop her.
“What? Who came and killed them? Who was killed?”
“That big man that was walking us back to the church! And his fella! They both got killed!” Peep wailed.
The following soldier had caught up to them, so he stopped and gave another shrill whistle. From back the way of the pleasure quarter, two other whistles responded, heading their way.
“Men came and killed Wes and his man? Where? How many?”
“I don’t know! They took my mom! I was so scared I just ran off! I’m sorry! Help! Let’s go!” Peep pulled on the sergeant’s tabard to get him moving again.
“Where?” he demanded.
“On Main Street! Just by the Sheriff’s Office! Come on!”
They began jogging towards the tower again. The soldier with them whistled some more, and the other whistles were closing in from behind. A few seconds later, an alarm bell started ringing at the tower. When they reached the tower, several soldiers who had been garrisoned at the stables were in the courtyard, one ringing the bell just by the stables. They all had torches and lanterns.
“Corporal!” Sergeant Neil barked at one of the men. “Murder on Main Street! Keep this boy safe in the stables! And keep sounding the alarm! The rest of you men: with me!”
Peep hissed a curse to herself. She thought for just a second before coming to a decision. She grabbed Sergeant Neil’s thumb and gave it a sharp tug.
“Ow! What is it lad? We’ll gonna find yar mother, I promise! Ye need to stay here where it’s safe. I’ll—”
“Sergeant Neil,” Peep interrupted, now in her normal voice. She stepped back from him and pushed her cap off her brow as she raised her face up towards him. There was plenty of torch and lantern light for him to see her clearly.
Sergeant Neil gasped as he recognized Otilla of the Holy Fire.
“Be smart, sergeant,” Peep said quietly as she tugged her cap down over her face. “I’m going to the church where it’s safe. By myself. Remember now: I’m Trapper Junior, and my mom got drug off by the men that killed them two. Be smart.”
With this Peep turned on her heel and broke off in a sprint towards the alley behind Main Street. A couple of the soldiers made half-assed efforts to intercept her, but Sergeant Neil called them off.
“Let him go!” he barked. “Corporal: continue raising the alarm! The rest of you: with me, to the Sheriff’s Office! Let’s move!”
Peep made it through the alley and to the back door at the end of Father Morrenthall’s church transverse without seeing anyone. She unlocked the door with her key and slipped into the hall as quiet as a mouse. Then she locked and barred the door.
The hallway was almost completely dark, but there was a glow of light coming from underneath Father Morrenthall’s office door. Peep went to the door and knocked softly.
“Come in,” Father Morrenthall called.
Father Morrenthall was seated at his desk writing a document by the light of an iron, three-candle candleholder. It cast more than enough light for him to plainly see Peep’s bloody tunic.
“Otilla,” Father Morrenthall sighed as he buried his face in his hands.
“Yeah, Father. The rooster’s been plucked,” Peep said, moving to stand in front of his desk like a naughty pupil reporting to their headmaster.
“When I explicitly told you not to kill him. Not! to kill him! Was that somehow difficult to understand?” Father Morrenthall shouted at the top of his lungs.
Peep waited silently, staring at the floor in front of her.
“Take off that ridiculous cap! Look at me!” bellowed Father Morrenthall as he stood up.
Peep took off her boy’s cap and met Father Morrenthall’s eye squarely. That seemed to calm him down somewhat.
“You had orders, Otilla! You were to wait!” Father Morrenthall smacked his fist down on his desk as he sat down, but the gesture was far less violent than it could have been.
“I know, Father. And I’m sorry. But things broke in a tricky way, and I had no other choice,” Peep said with a poorly faked look of contrition.
“I issued you the orders I did precisely so that you would avoid putting yourself in a situation where you didn’t have a choice. Do you not understand that? Do you not see how you have completely spoiled what I was working towards? I have not yet spoken to Lieutenant Hamon. This precipitates everything too early!”
“Well, sorry, Father. Sorry. But, no, I don’t see that I’ve spoiled everything. Like, I get that ye wanted to have all yar evidence against the dirty sergeant ready to go, then have him hear that Wes got killed, and then arrest him so that ye can hit him with everything as a big shock. Right?”
“Precisely. I am so happy you were listening for at least that portion of our meeting,” Father Morrenthall said as he rubbed his temples.
“And, okay, I guess that’s messed up. Sorry. But it don’t mean that this can’t work another way. Right? So, first thing tomorrow morning, both Lieutenant Hamon and Sergeant Greasy are gonna hear that Wes and his guy got cut up on Main Street. Right?”
“Wait! Otilla, what do you mean Wes and his guy? Who all did you kill tonight?”
“Just Wes and his goon. That’s all, Father.”
“Who is this goon? He wasn’t some simple teamster or something, was he?”
“No, Father. He was that guy who was in Wes’ office when we met him yesterday. He was armed and sticking with Wes all night. There’s no way he wasn’t dirty. So getting him taken care of too is all to the good, right?”
“We shall have to hope so, I suppose. And, by the way, our target’s name is Sergeant Orel, not Greasy. It was Orel’s helper with the humorous name, Corporal Butters,” Father Morrenthall said.
“Yeah, okay. Whatever. So, anyways, Father, like I was saying, this can still work real good for ye. Tomorrow morning, both Lieutenant Hamon and Sergeant Orel are gonna hear all about how Wes and his man got it real bad on Main Street.”
“I don’t suppose, Otilla,” Father Morrenthall interrupted tersely, “that it has occurred to you that I might want to hear all about that myself? But, by all means, before you tell me, why don’t you explore your notions of how I can best manage this mess you have created for me?”
“Sure thing, Father!” Peep said cheerfully. “Well, like I keep trying to say, tomorrow the lieutenant and sergeant are gonna hear about Wes. There’s no doubt about that. So, ye can swoop by the fort and grab them both up. Take them down into that torture dungeon of yars and buckle them into a couple of them chairs. Leave them so they think they’re alone and listen to what they have to say to each other. Then, drag the sheriff out and go to work on him on that rack of yars. Stretch him out and get him real limbered up. Have him spill his guts about the two of them right in front of them. Then move Sergeant Orel into the dark cells down below and get Lieutenant Hamon on the rack next. Get him sorted out, and then just crack right on at the sergeant. I’m sure they’ll both be real cooperative.”
Father Morrenthall stared at Peep for a while. She smiled back at him. Eventually, he sighed and let go of much of his remaining tension before speaking:
“I am glad, at the very least, that you seem to have been paying attention this last little while, Otilla. Your course of action is precisely what I am going to have to do. Hard, fast, and blunt. And while I have no doubt it will achieve the desired effect with our targets, it may well complicate things to the point of crisis with the Baron.”
“Really, Father? Yar cleaning up his mess for him. Why would that piss him off?”
“Otilla, I was able to sell him on making me magistrate by promising a resolution to his corruption troubles without major disruption to his forces. With Billy the jailer punished, the Baron would like the sheriff and all his people redeemed, if possible. Yes? If, tomorrow, I was able to simply interview Lieutenant Hamon, turn him, and get the evidence I need, then I could solidify my case against Sergeant Orel without any disruption. With solid evidence in hand to show the Baron. And I would not have pushed matters with the Sheriff past a point of no return.
“But, instead of this calm, orderly process, tomorrow, the Baron is going to hear that the teamster boss has been murdered. That the sheriff has disappeared into the church, as have one of his lieutenants and his sergeant major quartermaster. And if I am to be working on those men as you suggest, then I shall not be available to meet with the Baron to assuage any concerns he might have over the disruption I am causing.”
“Yeah, well, Father, the Baron’s just gonna have to be patient and let ye work, right? What other choice has he got? And yar gonna be delivering him the results he needs, right?”
“Well, I know that, Otilla. And you know that. But the Baron certainly won’t. And the results he needs are probably not the results that he wants. It seems to me that the Baron is a man perfectly willing to tolerate corruption and vice in his subordinates if they don’t interfere too much with his day-to-day dealings. Be that as it may, aggravating him would be best to be avoided. But, that barge has pushed off, so there is not use crying about it. Now, though, I must know every detail about tonight’s murder of Wes and his man. Leave nothing out,” Father Morrenthall said.
Peep went on to give Father Morrenthall a thorough report. He sighed and flinched at times, but kept quiet until the very end.
“So, you have involved this woman, Mariola, completely. And Sergeant Neil is privy to the whole matter. I do not like this, Otilla.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Father. But it’s not like I planned on killing him tonight. I was just trying to get a look inside The Red Ox to see if he was there. And then the Sergeant showed up, and Wes did his thing, and then he grabbed my face and recognized me. What else was I supposed to do?”
“At the point where he recognized you, there was nothing else to be done. I understand that. But, Otilla, I do not think you needed to send Mariola into The Red Ox. That was reckless. Or something else entirely,” Father Morrenthall glowered at Peep.
“Whad’ye mean, Father?” Peep asked, as though butter would not melt in her mouth.
“Otilla. Mariola is a very attractive woman. You engaged her to help you, and concocted a story to make her seem vulnerable. Then you paraded her in front of Wes, the boss of a criminal gang we know has a habit of entrapping vulnerable women. You were baiting a hook for him. Only a complete fool would miss seeing this. Do not treat me as though I am that fool!” barked Father Morrenthall.
Peep nodded as she accepted the rebuke. “Yeah, okay. Sorry about that, Father. I guess that was what I was up to. But I wasn’t planning for it to hook him tonight. I promise, Father! Look, Father, I don’t know if ye know about this, coming up however ye did, but when ye gotta feed a bunch of people in the bush, ye can’t rely on just one thing. Ye don’t just go out to yar blind and hope ye bag a big deer. Ye set up some trout nets in the river. Some snares and traps on the trails. And then ye go out to the blind and try for a deer. D’ye understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, Otilla, I do,” Father Morrenthall conceded.
“And it wasn’t like this job was easy. Right? This is a dangerous cat, our Wes. Smart. Well protected. Paranoid. And I’m famous around here. So, not only do I gotta follow this guy and figure out his patterns, I gotta set up an angle to finish the job when you say jump. So that’s what I was doing. And it was just bad luck that it worked too good. So now we just gotta deal with it. Okay, Father?”
Father Morrenthall sighed. “Yes. I suppose it is okay, Otilla. Why don’t you have a seat. Wait. Turn around. Is the back of you in the same state as the front?”
Peep turned around to that he could check that the back of her tunic was not covered in blood as well. It was quite clean, so Father Morrenthall gestured for her to take a seat.
“So, Otilla, this woman Mariola: do you think she can carry the burden of this killing? Can she be trusted?”
“Absolutely, Father. Look, I told her that if things went sideways, that I would handle it and she should run straight for the church. When I took Wes, she went straight for the other guy and started cutting him up. That was her call. She’ll carry it.”
“Good. See that she does. And what about involving this Sergeant Neil? This is not good. It has the potential to complicate everything horribly.”
“Well, yes and no, Father. I get that it aint ideal, but more and more soldiers were gonna be showing up. And townsfolk. Teamsters and the like. And they were gonna lock me up in the army stable for safekeeping. I had to get out of there.”
“I understand that. But why involve him at all? Why not just come straight back here after the killing?” Father Morrenthall asked.
“Well, think about that for a second, Father. And, maybe, instead of thinking like someone who catches murderers, do it like someone that does the murders. If I leave it at that, then Sergeant Neil knows that Wes and his man got killed on Main Street walking the lady Beth and her son back to church. We spent all day spreading that story around. So, what does he do then? He’d come here looking to talk to us, to find out what happened. That could get even more complicated in a real hurry, right?”
“Yes. I see where you are going with this.”
“Right. So, Father, instead I thought I’d go and plant the story we want out there before he even knows anything. So, when he looks at the scene, he’s thinking Outfit goons did this and dragged off the woman as a bonus prize. And with him sold on it, that’s the story that’s gonna spread. Right?”
“I can see the sense of that. And I suppose you were hoping to slip off at some point, then?”
“Exactly. But the sergeant was being too good at his job, and I wasn’t gonna get the chance. And he is good at his job, by the way. He’s one of the good ones. Has a lot of respect for you and the church. So, I figured that I just had to risk trusting him. Show him who I was and hope that he backs up my story. And he basically did, right? When I was running off, he told his men to, ‘let the boy go.’”
“Yes, it seems that he may fall on our side in this. But what about his men? Did any of them recognize you?”
“They weren’t that close to us, and I kept my voice down. So probably not. But if they were paying attention they’d have noticed that something hinky was going on.”
“So we must assume the soldiers know that you were the killer. Wonderful,” Father Morrenthall said, his voice sour.
“Well, yeah, Father. But that aint that bad, is it? So there’s a soldiers’ rumor that I killed Wes. That’s at worst. Soldiers are always talking all kinds of crap, right? What will everybody know for sure? I put the head at the Sheriff’s Office. The dipshits around here are gonna really tear themselves up trying to figure that one out! Ten to one, most of them are gonna fall on the side of this being some Outfit move.
“And if the Baron, or whoever, comes at ye completely sure that I was the one that killed him, then ye’ll know that Sergeant Neil aint to be trusted. Because he’s the only one that does know for sure. And if the Baron comes at ye hard about it, Father, then ye can just tell him that it wasn’t us. Tell him that, yeah, that Beth woman and her kid have been hanging around the church for a couple of days, but that they haven’t been fitting it. That ye suspect that the woman was an Outfit plant, sent to spy on us. That’ll work, right?”
Father Morrenthall thought about this carefully. Finally, he nodded.
“Yes, that should work. But this woman of yours must stay out of sight. She must disappear. No one else may see her. She shall have to stay in a cell for the duration of this. And she must keep her mouth shut. You must make sure of this, Otilla. Do you trust her in this?”
“Yes, Father. I’ve only met her today, but I think she’ll manage,” Peep said.
“If you are not very sure, I shall have to lock her up downstairs. You need to make sure she understands the gravity of this situation, Otilla.”
“I will. She’s done good for us, so we shouldn’t lock her up downstairs. That place is scary. She’ll get the wrong idea about us down there.”
“Well, in that we disagree, Otilla. That place gives people precisely the correct idea about us. It is just not a side of ourselves that we want everyone seeing. But I do agree that the woman has been a loyal agent, and seems to have done a good job. She must continue to do so. Yes?”
“Sure thing, Father,” Peep said, giving him a crisp military salute.
“All right. Good work yourself, I suppose. Finish cleaning up before you go to bed. Burn that tunic and cap; the boy must disappear as well. And burn whatever your woman was wearing. In the kitchen stove; we do not want anyone noticing it. Tomorrow, I shall have Mrs Dunn give the woman something like a nun’s habit. The woman is in your room now, you said?”
“Yes, Father.”
“That room has two beds, I believe. She may stay there. Tell her I am sorry, but she must confine herself to that room until further notice.”
“Understood, Father. She won’t be a problem.”
“Good,” Father Morrenthall said. Then he cocked his head to the side as something occurred to him. “Otilla, I hope that when I told you that this woman must be silent, and that she must disappear; I hope that you did not take that as a suggestion that you kill her. She is one of our people. I do not want her harmed. Is that clear?”
“Of course, Father. I got that. I wouldn’t do her even if ye asked!” Peep laughed.
“I am going to pretend you did not just say that, Otilla. Now, about tomorrow: it seems my men from Strana are set to arrive. That means I shall be able to cut you and the boys loose to return to your military duties. So, I think that tomorrow, as soon as they arrive, we shall all go up to the fort together. Make as strong an impression as we can. I shall officially turn Lieutenant Pekot and his sergeants over to Captain Edison, and inform him that I require Lieutenant Hamon and Sergeant Major Orel to return with me to the church for a formal interview.”
“Sounds great, Father!”
“I am glad you approve, Otilla. Now, of course, you are free to go where you please. So you may stay here in the church, if you wish. But I shall have no more need of you. And I think it would be best for you to stay with Lieutenant Pekot to help him in the training of his new recruits. What say you, Otilla?”
“That sounds good, Father. Thank ye. It was a pleasure working with ye!”
“I am sure I have no idea what you mean, Otilla. Tonight’s business is done. The woman Beth and her son, Trapper Junior, are suspicious characters who have now disappeared from our midst.”
“Got it, Father. Good night,” Peep said as she stood.
“Good night, Otilla. Oh, yes. The door key, if you please,” Father Morrenthall held his hand out to Otilla.
“Right. Almost forgot about that. Here ye are, Father,” Peep dug the key out of her pocket and laid it in his palm.
“Indeed. Good night, Otilla.”
“Good night, Father,” Peep said as she left his office and closed the door behind her.
Muse Vassal 