Page 30 of Her Majesty's Necromancer
Beside me, Lincoln nodded his approval of the question.
"Don't know," Pete said. "Maybe army."
"Nah." Jimmy shook his head. "He didn't bark orders like them army folks do. He were quieter. Didn't speak much, but we didn't see him often. Only when he wanted us to get another body."
"He were real precise, like an army man," Pete said. "Told us exactly where the bodies would be, and how far down they would be buried."
"So he asked for specific bodies? By name?"
"Aye, sir."
Gordon seemed as surprised by that as I was. I wondered if he knew or suspected who the captain was now. He'd mentioned being in the army himself. "What does he look like?"
"Like a toff," Pete said. "Mostly bald, wears spectacles."
"About your height," Jimmy added. "Thin fellow."
"Aside from depositing the bodies in the cool room, what has he done to them?"
Both men shrugged. "Nothing, far as we can tell," Pete said. "My uncle says the captain looks in on 'em sometimes, and asks to be left alone in there. Real strange."
"Is that it?" Gordon asked. "Is there anything more you can tell me? Do you know where to find him? How to contact him?"
"No, sir. He always comes here when he needs us," said Jimmy.
"So what you are going to do now, sir?" Pete asked.
"I leave," Gordon told him. "You stop digging up bodies for the captain, or anyone else."
"You going to haunt us if we don't?"
"Yes."
Jimmy gulped. "Thank you, sir. We'll stop right away." He jabbed Pete again.
But Pete's boldness had returned. He stepped forward and peered into Gordon's eyes. I'd trembled the first time I'd stared into a dead man's eyes, but Pete didn't flinch. "Is this some kind of magic trick to get us talkin'? You ain't the first one to ask these questions. Maybe the gypsy put you up to it, or the pigs."
"You've sparked some interest," Gordon said. "Nobody likes a grave robber. You're revolting, depraved."
"Aye, but the pay's good." Pete poked him in the shoulder. "I think you're usin' the night to play tricks on us. We shouldn't have fallen for it, Jimmy. It ain't the body in the cool room come back to haunt us. It's just a cove who's covered his face in chalk—"
Gordon grabbed the finger and wrenched it backward. Bone snapped. Pete cried out and cradled his finger close to his chest.
"Bloody hell!" he screamed. "You're mad!"
"Dead, not mad." Gordon picked up a knife from the table and grinned. The two men backed away. "Since that wasn't enough proof, here's something more definitive." He placed the blade between his teeth and rolled up his left sleeve. He turned his arm over for them to see. "Nothing hidden up there. My arm is real." He splayed his fingers on the table and drove the knife through the back of his hand. I heard the sickening crunch of bone from where I stood outside.
Jimmy and Pete jumped, their huge eyes on Gordon's bloodless hand as he pulled the knife from the flesh. Jimmy crossed himself and blubbered through a prayer again.
"It ain't no trick," Pete said, more to himself than his friend who wasn't listening anyway. He suddenly took off, running out the door and down the lane.
Lincoln could have stopped him, but he let him go. "He's told us all he knows," he said.
"What if he runs to tell the captain?" I asked.
"He claims not to know where to find him. I doubt he'd be believed anyway."
"Come back!" Jimmy screamed. "Don't leave me with this demon!"
