Page 57 of Across Space and Time

Jack’s eyes lit up. “I have been seen by a number of guests recently, so I believe we could slip off without suspicion. If we go now, we might be able to destroy the Tree before they leave here for the night.”

Hugh frowned. “If we destroy the Tree now, we may not find out who the other members of Eden are.”

Jack was silent a moment before he slowly said, “I believe that is the risk we must take. Cutting the head off the serpent will be better than tipping them off that we are onto them.”

Hugh glanced down at his nearly naked form. “Of course, if I run through the streets like this, I may get myself arrested.”

“I think you look quite dashing,” Jack said with a teasing grin before he sobered again. “But the more pressing concern is, we still need to find a way out of here. I’m afraid I am quite turned around.”

Jack was right. It was a labyrinth down here. If they could find anything that led upward, they probably would make their way to an exit. But finding that would take time; the longer they were down here, the more people would be hurt, and the less time they would have with the Tree unguarded. “Well, we need to look around for an exit either way,” Hugh said. Maybe if they went back to where Jack had found him, they could backtrack until they found the ramp that led them up from the underground?

Jack started down another hallway, eventually finding his way back to the main chamber where the discarded clothing still lay in piles around the table, shrouds to humanity. Hugh pointed to one of the other tunnels. “I think that is the one we came from originally.”

“I think so too,” Jack said with a nod, then paused as someone exited the arch. It took a moment to see them in the dim lighting, because they were dressed all in black, including a black domino mask over their eyes. One of the employees. But even with the mask over his eyes, Hugh knew exactly who it was, and his blood ran cold in his veins.

Reardon’s eyes landed on Hugh next to Jack, and his thin lips spread into a cold smile. “Well, well. Turns out I was seeing right after all,” he said. “Won’t His Grace be impressed that I outed a rat in our midst.”

Hugh glowered at the man. “How long have you been working for Eden, Sergeant?”

Reardon laughed, the sound like claws on stone. “Long enough to know that they’ll reward me for catching a spy. Oh, won’t they have fun with you.”

Reardon’s eyes hadn’t moved from Hugh’s, but now he lifted his head, addressing Jack. “My lord, I’m afraid your little playtoy there is a constable with the Metropolitan Police.”

Hugh realized that the one time he had mentioned Spring-Heeled Jack to Reardon, he had not said anything about Jack knowing him or even speaking to him, only that he had encountered him at the site of one of the murders. Reardon thought that Jack was one of the participants of Eden.

“Carrots and compasses, are you sure?” Jack asked, turning to look at Hugh as if he had never seen him before. It might have been comical if Hugh was not absolutely petrified that they were about to be exposed.

“Quite sure,” Reardon said. “I know him myself. A little nancy of a constable and a piss-poor investigator.”

Hugh wanted to point out that he had found Eden, but Jack suddenly grabbed his wrist in a grip as strong as iron, though he did not squeeze. “Well, that certainly won’t do! We must report him to Mr. Adam at once! Will you be so kind as to lead the way, good sir?” Jack asked. “Last I saw, he went that way.” He bobbed his head toward one of the tunnels.

Reardon nodded and turned on his heel. “Of course. Follow me, sir.”

He had taken only two steps when Jack struck him from behind with a blow that sent Reardon spinning into the wall. His forehead connected with the stone with a sickening sound, and the man dropped to the ground, his black mask tumbling off his face. The front of his forehead had caved in where he had struck the stone, the front of his skull crushed into the matter behind it. His eyes stared dully at nothing.

Jack flinched and turned to Hugh apologetically. “Oops. I didn’t mean to hit him that hard.”

Hugh was finding it hard to find any sympathy for the sergeant. If he was involved with Eden, he got what he deserved. “That’s all right,” he said. He slid the silk rope off from around his neck. “We need to hide his body, so no one finds it before we’re able to get out of here.”

Jack picked up Reardon by the back of the neck, holding him like a rag doll. “Oh! Let us have you take his clothing,” he said, stepping into one of the small enclaves attached to the tunnel.

Hugh quickly stripped off the black outfit from the man, sliding them on, including the shoes. They were a little big, but he could make them work. He glanced down at the red rope and purple fabric. “Let’s put him in this outfit, and then tie him up. If anyone sees him, maybe they won’t realize right away he’s dead.”

“Devious,” Jack said with a grin. He lifted Reardon’s limp form, wrapping the red rope around the man’s neck and wrists before leaning him against the wall in the corner.

Hugh draped the purple silk over the man’s groin, then placed the black mask back on his face to hide the bloody laceration on his forehead. Jack wrinkled his nose. “I’m sure he was someone’s slice of cake, but I wouldn’t eat it.”

“Jack!” Hugh replied, trying very hard not to laugh at the inappropriateness of the joke or the situation. He stepped back to look. From a distance, he could probably pass for being unconscious. As long as it bought them time. They still needed to find a way out of here. And then he had a thought. They had spent so much time looking up, they hadn’t really looked at the floor. “I just realized, there must be a sewer connection somewhere. The blood would need to be washed away.”

“Brilliant as always, my dear,” Jack said, giving Hugh a quick kiss on the lips. There had to be one near this area, with all of the blood and viscera from the couple torturing those people. Jack motioned down the hallway, and, sure enough, as they rounded a corner, there was a round grate on the floor.

Jack squatted down next to the grate. It was old and looked like it might be rusted in place. He wrapped his hands around the metal bars and yanked. The grate creaked ominously, the metal giving a little. In the quiet of the stone, it sounded louder than a scream. Jack glanced over at Hugh. “I think one more pull, and I’ll have it free, but it will be loud. We need to be prepared to run.”

Hugh nodded, glancing around, but no one was approaching them yet. Jack grabbed the grate and gave it a mighty yank. It pulled free with a rusty-sounding screech like a banshee. “Go,” Jack said. Hugh quickly reached in, finding the old, iron handrails that created a ladder down into the sewers. He started down them, hoping that they were not so rusted as to fall apart. One of the rungs was missing, and he slipped, holding onto the slimy metal until he got his feet back under him. About a dozen rungs down, his oversized shoes landed in warm, wet, slippery water. He made a face. “I’m at the bottom,” he called up to Jack.

“Move aside, I’m coming down,” Jack said back. Hugh backed away from the hole. He heard another screech of metal, and then Jack dropped down the length of the hole to land in the muck.

“Is the grate back in place?” Hugh asked.

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