Resurrectionist

with many excellent qualities, brawn, loyalty and obedience being chief among them. But there were times when he could make a fence post look intelligent.

As Maggett disappeared, there came the sound of a second person’s footsteps and the swish of skirts from the passage outside. There followed a brief murmured exchange and then another, smaller figure appeared in the open doorway. The verger’s eyes widened momentarily.

Moving into the room, the girl slipped an arm round Sawney’s waist.

“’Ello, darlin’,” Sawney said. He turned and nodded towards the verger. “Look who’s come to visit.”

The girl stared at the verger. There was no welcome in her expression.

The verger stared back then his eyes moved to Sawney. “You didn’t have to do it.”

“Sorry, Verger – do what?” Sawney looked at the girl and raised his eyebrows as if to ask her if she knew what the verger was talking about. The girl shrugged.

“Kill him like that,” Symes said.

“Ah,” Sawney nodded sagely, running a tongue over yellowing teeth. “You mean young Doyle.”

“Why?” The verger repeated, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Sawney put his head on one side. He looked like a stoat studying a rabbit. “Because I could.”

The verger blinked.

“Well, what the ’ell did you think was going to happen to ’im?” Sawney rasped. “You think I was just going to give ’im a tap, tell ’im he’d been a naughty boy and send ’im on his way?” Sawney shook his head. “Couldn’t have him ’arbourin’ ideas above ’is station, could I? Should’ve remembered he was playin’ with the big boys. He knew the rules and he broke ’em. In my book, that meant he ’ad to pay. Had to set an example for the rest of them, else there’d just be bleedin’ chaos. Can’t have that, might disrupt business. And right now business is good.” Sawney paused. “And you should know,” he added pointedly. “So don’t come whining to me ’cause you don’t like my methods.”

Releasing himself from the girl and taking a step forward, Sawney wagged his finger. “You knew what you were getting into, just as much as Doyle. You’re a paid-up member, Verger, and it’s us who pays you – handsomely, as I recall.”

The verger paled.

“Not to mention the perks,” Sawney continued. “Like young Sal here, tootin’ your flute whenever you drops by.”

The verger’s gaze flickered to the girl. Her expression was just as dark as Sawney’s and the verger’s throat constricted. There was an unblinking intensity in those midnight-tinted eyes that seemed both feline and wild. As he stared at her, he knew, despite the threat in Sawney’s tone, that it was the girl who was undoubtedly the more dangerous.

“What?” Sawney said mockingly. “Don’t tell me you want out. Jesus, that’s it, ain’t it? You’re here to tell us you’ve had your fill. Well, sorry to disappoint you, but it don’t work like that. You ain’t out till I tell you you’re out. This ain’t a bleedin’ – what do they call it? – Democracy. Besides, the season’s only been up and running for a month. We’ve still got another five to go. The schools are open, terms have started and they’ll be wantin’ bodies. It’s our job to supply them, as fresh as possible. That’s what they pay us for.”

Sawney gazed at the verger, who was looking like a man who’d lost a guinea and found threepence. “No, wait, you weren’t actually thinkin’ of leavin’ of your own accord? You ain’t that naive, surely? When will you learn? We own you, Symes. We pay you, so we own you. You ever wondered what might happen if the vicar and the parishioners got to know about your little hobbies? I know you’re not strictly what they call a man of the cloth, but you’re close enough. What do you think they’d say if, durin’ next Sunday’s service, young Sal here interrupts the sermon to tell everyone that she sucks your cock of an evening in a back room of the Black Dog pub? You really want to go down that road? No, I didn’t think so. And I’ll tell you this, so there’s no misunderstandin’: dropping the word to the vicar and ’is parishioners will be the best thing we do to you.” Sawney leaned in close so that his face was inches away from the verger’s. His voice dripped quiet menace. “You get my drift?”

A rattle of tin mugs and the clink of glass from the doorway interrupted the moment.

“I got us a bottle, Rufus,” Maggett announced. “On the slate, like you said.” The big man appeared oblivious to the tension in the room.

Sawney straightened. “Did you now, Maggsie? Well done. Just what the doctor ordered. How about you, Verger, a drop of grog to wet your whistle?”

The verger remained silent. Sawney sighed theatrically. “Jesus, don’t tell me there’s more?”

“You crucified him.” The verger’s voice trembled.

Sawney took the bottle from Maggett’s hand and poured three fingers of gin into one of the mugs. He took a sip and smirked. “Just my little joke.” He raised the mug to his lips once more and paused. “No,’ ang on, in fact it was Sal’s idea.” He turned to the girl. “That’s right, ain’t it?”

The girl did not reply. Turning her head in the verger’s direction, she stretched out her arms and raised them to shoulder height.

“Bloody rotten way to spend Easter,” she said, then giggled.

The verger stared at her in horror.

“I tell you, Verger, she’s a wag,” Sawney said. “Has me in stitches, so she does, seein’ as it’s closer to Christmas than Easter.” Sawney held out the bottle. “Here you go, Sal, get your tongue round that. You sure you don’t want a snort, Verger? You’re looking a bit peaky.”

“You took out his teeth and tongue.”

“Too right,” Sawney said. “There’s good money in teeth, especially sound teeth, and young Doyle’s teeth were sounder than most. There’s plenty of toffs out there who’ll pay good money for a new set of canines. It’s all the rage. Did I ever tell you about that time I broke into the vault of that meetin’ house in Shoreditch? Can’t recall how many stiffs they ’ad down there, but I do know it took me three hours to get the teeth out of ’em. Earned myself sixty quid, though. It beats shovellin’ shit. An’ I’ll tell you another thing: there’s not a tooth-puller in London that ain’t been supplied with teeth dug up from an ’ospital field.” Sawney waited for the information to sink in before adding, “An’ I’ll guarantee there’s more than one politician sportin’ teeth taken from some poor bastard lying dead on a Spanish battlefield. I should bleedin’ know.”

“The police said the tongue was cut out as a warning.”

“Did they now? Well, there’s truth in that, I’ll not deny it. And I’ll wager it’ll do the trick, too. We’re the top dogs here, not Naples and his bleedin’ Borough Boys. Us. The sooner they start takin’ us seriously, the better. There’s a good living to be made for all of us, you included, Verger. So long as nobody rocks the boat …” Sawney paused. “You said it was the police who told you it was a warning?”

The verger nodded. “I had to raise the alarm. It would have seemed odd if I hadn’t.”

“You did your duty, Verger. Wouldn’t expect anything else from a fine, upstandin’ citizen like yourself. Don’t worry about it. Bloody Charleys couldn’t find water if it was rainin’.”

“The man they sent wasn’t a Charley. He was some sort of special constable.”

Sawney shrugged, unconcerned. “Amounts to the same thing. They ain’t much better.”

“This one might be,” Symes said. “He’s next door.”

It was often the little things in life that gave the most satisfaction and, for the verger, having borne the brunt of Sawney’s scorn for the last few minutes, watching the look of incredulity steal over the latter’s face was as pleasurable as hearing a peal of church bells on a Sunday morning.

“He’s here?” A nerve quivered in Sawney’s cheek. “Christ, you led him here? He followed you?”

The verger swallowed. The pleasure of the moment withered, to be replaced by a creeping dread.

“I didn’t lead him anywhere,” Symes said defensively. “He was here already.”

Sawney frowned. “Then how …?”

“One of the gravediggers told him they thought they’d seen Doyle drinking in one of the local pubs. He’s probably visiting them all, looking for information.”

“Shite!” Sawney swore. “Did he see you?”

Symes reddened. His new-found boldness was disintegrating by the second. He took an involuntary step backwards. “I don’t think so.” The verger hesitated, and then nodded towards the girl. “He was talking to her.”

The room went very quiet.