Gravedigger lowered her weapon and shrugged. “I pay you enough to buy new ones.”
“What if he was just carrying handcuffs in that bag of his and the vial was just booze?” Li wiped blood off her face with the back of her hands, watching as Gravedigger knelt down and opened Tom’s black bag. It was filled with enough sharp implements to give even Li a bit of pause.
“He wasn’t innocent,” Gravedigger whispered. “No one is.”
Charity Grace was the second Gravedigger that Mitchell Williams had served. During his youth, he’d fallen in with a rough crowd but his life had changed for the better when he’d been caught committing a crime by Josef Goldstein, the man who had preceded Charity in this costumed role. Goldstein had spared his life and taught him to be something better. For that, he would always be grateful.
A black man from England, Mitchell was something of a dichotomy to many people in America. Because of his tremendous size and the color of his skin, it was generally assumed that he would be plodding and unintelligent. The exact opposite was true, however. He was quick thinking, well-spoken and possessed a brilliant tactical mind. All of those attributes made him a powerful weapon in Gravedigger’s arsenal.
It also made him her most trusted aide — and her lover.
Mitchell was standing outside a burning building on the city’s east side. It was a tenement, home to as many rats as human beings. As such, the firefighters weren’t throwing themselves into harm’s way and were instead content to allow the hovel to burn to the ground. Not a one of them had done more than flinch when the sound of a baby crying had cut through the night air and a young mother had begun screeching that her child was still inside.
For a moment, Mitchell had thought to rectify the matter himself. But then he’d seen him — the man he’d spent so many hours looking for: The Dark Gentleman. Of all Sovereign’s heroes, this was undoubtedly the most well-dressed. He wore a white shirt covered by a gray vest, black tie and ebony jacket. Over all of this was slung a dark opera-style cap that was clasped about his neck. With dark slacks and shoes, as well as leather gloves an accompanying top hat, The Dark Gentleman looked like he had stopped off on his way to a fancy ball. It was only the presence of the automatic in his right hand and the large domino-style mask that he wore that gave one pause.
The crowd had spotted The Dark Gentleman upon his arrival and a gasp had spread quickly amongst them. The masked man was on the flaming rooftop and he’d disappeared inside, seemingly with no concern for his own safety.
Seconds had stretched into minutes and Mitchell had begun to shift uneasily. The roof suddenly gave way, crashing inward and nearly bringing the entire structure down with it. Just as everyone backed away in horror, sure that both the infant and the hero were dead, a figure emerged.
The Dark Gentleman sprinted from the inferno, his opera cape wrapped tightly around the baby that he carried. He rushed past the firefighters and went straight to the crying mother, who accepted his precious parcel with great emotion. Before anyone could stop him, The Dark Gentleman was off again, rushing through the crowd and vanishing into the darkness.
Mitchell smiled in admiration. The man had style…
Several minutes later, Mitchell returned to his parked car. He was not surprised to see The Dark Gentleman waiting nearby.
“Mind telling me why you’ve been hounding me all night?” the masked man asked. His gun was nowhere to be seen but Mitchell was sure that it would take only seconds to reappear if needed.
“My employer would like to speak to you.”
“And who would that be?”
“Gravedigger.”
The look of surprise that flickered across The Dark Gentleman’s face lasted only a few seconds but Mitchell’s keen eyes detected it quite clearly. “I’ve heard of her,” the masked man replied. He reached up and removed his top hat, shaking off soot and debris before replacing it. “Is she looking to lop my head off? I think that’s her usual method of dispatching her foes, isn’t it?”
“She doesn’t consider you an enemy.” Mitchell moved closer and leaned back against the door to the car. He folded his arms over his well-muscled chest and added, “In fact, she wants you to work with her.”
“How are the benefits? Do I get a lot of time off? Does she include any medical?”
“You’re funny. I hadn’t heard that.”
“Maybe most people don’t consider my humor all that memorable.” The Dark Gentleman turned away. “I appreciate the interest but I work alone… and I don’t generally deal with murderers. I trust the justice system to do its job without me becoming judge, jury, and executioner.”
“Michael Groseclose.”
The Dark Gentleman spun about and now his pistol was in hand. “Why did you say that?”
Mitchell straightened, lifting both hands in a submissive gesture. “No need for that, friend. I just wanted you to understand that we know a lot about you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not at all. Just that we know who you are and why you do this… and that’s why we think you’d fit in with our crew.”
“And what do you think you know?”
“Your father is Theodore Groseclose. He owns a string of papers but the one that’s most important around here is The Sovereign Gazette. He’s not a bad man but he’s been in bed with the wrong crowd for years and sometimes turns a blind eye to stories that could embarrass them. You’re offended by that and think that his wealth should be used to lift the city up out of its cesspool. Finding yourself unable to convince him to do that, you took matters into your own hands as The Dark Gentleman. You’re smart and athletic but your best weapon seems to be your incredible luck. You survive things that a normal man simply shouldn’t.”
“I like to think I’ve got friends upstairs who are looking out for me.” The Dark Gentleman lowered his gun but didn’t put it away. “If you’re thinking you can blackmail me, you’re wrong.”
Mitchell sighed. “Gravedigger kills her enemies, that’s true, but there are reasons for that. Come with me and meet her. If you’re still not interested after that, you can walk away and we’ll all pretend it never happened. But if you’re the man I think you are, you’ll be intrigued. We can help each other.”
For a long moment, The Dark Gentleman didn’t say anything. He was staring hard at Mitchell, as if trying to peer into the dark-skinned man’s soul. Finally, he holstered his pistol and gestured to the car. “Mind if I ride with you?”
Mitchell smiled broadly. “I’d be honored.”
CHAPTER IV
The Gates of Valhalla
There were three of them, heavily bundled up in snow gear: two men, both in their mid-fifties, with one woman, who was in her early thirties. All of them were very fit and easily ascended the mountain using their ropes and climbing hooks.
When they reached the summit, it was Dieter Schneider who spoke first, pushing the goggles he wore off his eyes and studying their surroundings. “My friends,” he muttered in German, “We have done it.”
Sonya moved up to her father’s side and took his hand. She knew how much this meant to him and she shared his excitement. If their research was correct, then this would ensure the victory of the Reich. Her father would be treated like royalty by the Füehrer and all of their names would become legends. “I always knew your theories would bear fruit, father.”
The third member of their party sounded less confident. “We should hold off on the celebrations, I think.” Lars Hansel was a soldier, sent along to make sure that Dieter and his daughter, both scientists, stayed on task. When they’d set off on this mission, their party had numbered nearly a dozen but the treacherous mountains and an unexpectedly severe ice storm had thinned the ranks considerably.