Page 58 of The Viscount of Shadows

Chapter 20

Jedi Danaher stood in the underground cache one of his men found soon after the coppers had departed. How many of his men had been seized? The Met Police wasted no time clearing The Piggeries, leaving mayhem in their wake.

It smelled down here, beyond the dampness and mold. The odor was a distinct mixture of body excretions and sweat as if one or more had been hiding here. This must be where that Sentinel bloke and Claudia had holed up, separately or simultaneously.

Jedi kicked at the broken glass of the oil lamp. He could see clearly as he had one of his few remaining men fetch two lanterns. The trunk was empty, but he found biscuit crumbs in a small tin. How is it that he never knew of this place?

Voices were raised above him, and someone was descending the stairs. His son stood before him, holding a dirty cloth against his cheek.

“You bloody well left me there!” Cillian yelled.

“Too right. It’s every man for himself; the sooner you learn that, the better. Did a copper cut you? Or was it that wee girl?”

“She may have got a slice in, but so did I. Before I could do more, coppers burst in. I had to leg it. I heard from Charlie that she was bundled into a police wagon. We can find out where they went and—”

Jedi held up his hand. “Do you think I give a flying shite about Claudia Ellingford? If I had any use for her, I would have tracked her down years ago. I only wanted her to find out about this vigilante, The Sentinel. Him, I want. And he got away.”

“That bitch cut me!”

Jedi grabbed the cloth held against Cillian’s cheek and pulled it from the wound. “Quit your whinging. It’s no more than a wee scratch. Mewling like a babe, you are. Hear me; I brought you into the fold because you serve a purpose. If I wanted you, I would have sought you out long before now. Remember that. I don’t give a toss about you or your hag of a mother. Never did.”

“You’re a miserable bastard,” Cillian sneered.

“Aye, I am that—a bastard in every sense of the word. Here’s something you don’t know about me. I am the illegitimate son of a baron. I had proper schooling for a few years and a decent life. That way of talking I do out on the street? It’s put on. I exaggerate it. Everything changed when my mother died. I was alone, living on the streets, as Claudia said.”

Cillian gaped at him as if deciding to believe what Jedi had revealed. “Why didn’t you go to the baron? Why live on the streets?”

“Feck him and his backhanded charity. I make my own way. I still do. Get your face stitched up, but get it done properly by a competent surgeon. You want the scar to be barely visible. I learned that the hard way.” Jedi reached into his pocket and flipped his son a gold sovereign. “See Surgeon Bellows on Talbot Road. Tell him Danaher sent you.”

Cillian turned away to leave, but Jedi grabbed his arm and turned him roughly about until they were face-to-face. “You repeat anything I said down here, and I’ll finish the job that wee girl started. You’ll be tripping over your guts, you follow?”

“Yeah, I follow. What you told me puts a lot into perspective. See? I had some schooling and all.”

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you. You’re mine, all right. Sure as brass. Meet me at the hideout at The Black Moon when you are done being doctored.”

His son gave him a brisk nod, then disappeared upstairs.

What possessed Jedi to reveal that? It was not like him. Maybe he wanted to see his son’s reaction to the revelation. Not that it mattered. Jedi only had two meetings with his biological father; one right after Jedi’s mother died and another eleven years ago.

That first meeting, the baron had the then twelve-year-old Jedi brought before him.

“I can’t take you in,” the baron stated emotionlessly. “I have a wife and son. But I know of a place that can find you a good home or a place to work. An acquaintance of mine sponsors the foundation. It’s called Chellenhome. I will not pay any more money to see to your care. I cannot have you in my life. This will be the last time we meet.”

The anger and loathing that tore through Jedi at that moment had been potent. It was his first thought of murder, and even at age twelve, he nearly carried it out as he eyed the nearby fireplace poker.

“To hell with your charity. I’ll make my own way. But I’ll be back. You’ll never know when I will turn up. And you will offer assistance then. I’d have to be in a low place to come crawling back to you. But know that I might. Because you owe me.”

Or words to that effect. Jedi reached that low point about a decade ago as he had barely escaped the Seven Dials with his life. He sought out his father and discovered the baron had lost his only son in a drowning accident some years before, and his lady wife had died shortly after that. It had given Jedi perverse pleasure to see the grief still etched on his father’s aging face. Jedi offered no false sympathy. Baron Addington silently handed Jedi the two hundred pounds he had demanded, then closed the door in Jedi’s face. That money allowed Jedi to take a foothold and ultimately take authority over The Piggeries. He might have to seek out the baron again if things take a turn.

But first, to locate this Sentinel bloke. No interlopers, whatever their motives, would take away his kingdom.

* **

A flurry of activity ensued once the carriage arrived at the Tensbridge town house. Dusk gave them enough cover to take Oliver and Claudia through the rear entrance.

“Wait,” Oliver rasped. “Place Miss Ellingford in the connecting room next to mine.”

Oliver didn’t remember much after that. Damon and Rett were there with Althea and Miss Callen. He could hear many conversations in the back of his mind as he slipped in and out of various depths of sleep. He never felt so exhausted.