LITMIR.BIZ

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head and pulled it around to the side until he felt the neck snap. The man’s body went limp, and Luka let it fall to the ground.

      Osborne Court had been too vulnerable to leave bodies—Luka could not afford to have murder associated with the clinic—but here there was no such concern. And it would do to have a few corpses on hand to make it clear that he meant business.

      The next man along turned at the sound of the body hitting the ground. He stared at Luka for a moment, his cigarette dropping from his fingers. The man started to recover just as Luka reached him. He raised his club for a swing, but Luka caught him by the wrist and gave the arm a yank. As the man tumbled forward, Luka kicked out his leading leg to further throw him off balance and struck him in the throat with an elbow. The man fell backward, gurgling, and hit the ground with a painful smack. Luka ripped the club from the man’s hand and bludgeoned him twice on the head.

      Now it was time to attend to Higgins and his remaining comrade. Hefting the club, Luka advanced on them at a swift walk. They had only just realized that something was amiss. The man with the lantern turned and shined the light in Luka’s direction. Partly blinded, Luka merely quickened his pace and threw the club into the space above the lantern. The club connected with something and the man cried out. The lantern dropped to the ground.

      The light now shone on the girl and on Higgins, who, caught in a rather compromised situation, twisted his head around and stared at his fallen companion. The girl saw her opportunity and took it. She grabbed something from the ground—A rock? A piece of broken brick?—and smashed it into Higgins’s groin. Higgins grunted in pain and doubled over, his knees buckling. The girl struck him on the side of the head, scrambled to her feet, and bolted down the alley.

      Luka left Higgins to lie in the filth for a moment. He would deal with that one last. He grabbed the club and set it across the throat of the fourth man, strangling him slowly—and loudly—for Higgins’s benefit. Though in a swoon, Higgins looked conscious enough to hear his man’s dying gasps for breath. When the ruffian was finally dead, Luka shoved the body into the lamp light for Higgins to see.

      “Oh…oh God!” Higgins cried, as he looked upon the lifeless, staring eyes before him. Blood trickled down the side of his face, but he paid it no mind, unable to look away from the corpse. Feebly, he drew his little knife and held it out toward the darkness.

      Luka stepped over to him and yanked the knife out of his hand. Kneeling, he pressed the knife blade to Higgins’s throat and patted the side of his face.

      “P-please don’t k-kill me,” Higgins stammered.

      “Don’t worry,” Luka said. “I’m not going to kill you. Not like your friends.”

      “No?” There was a glimmer of hope in Higgins’s voice, but it was small and weak. It was unlikely that any man of his occupation would really expect to escape such a situation alive. “Whadya want? Money? I can give ya money—”

      “Shhh,” Luke hushed him, placing a finger to his lips. “Hush now. I want you to go back to your boss with a message from me.”

      “My boss?”

      “Yes, your boss,” Luka said. “I know you have one. You’re a middleman. I can see you don’t have what it takes to be in charge. So you’re going to tell him—whoever he is, I don’t really care—that he won’t be muscling his way into this neighborhood. No one will. Tell him, tell your friends, tell every member of the London underworld you know that there is a new master here, and the criminal element is not welcome. From Honey Lane to Hawthorne Street, from Perrott Street to Meakin Row, no thieves, no burglars, no pimps, no gangs. Anyone who violates this order will die. Do you understand?”

      “Yes!” Higgins answered. “Yes, yes, I understand!”

      “I am not the police,” Luka continued. “I do not make arrests. I kill. And I will kill any criminal who takes action in my territory. Tell everyone, or else the bodies will begin to pile up. And if you set foot here again, I will kill you slowly, piece by piece. Do you understand?”

      “Yes!”

      Luka stood and hauled Higgins to his feet. He gave the man a shove toward the end of the alley and said, “Get out of my sight.”

      Higgins backed away from him, tripped over one of the corpses, and fell to the ground. He stood up again, gurgling incoherently, and ran for the street.

      Luka smiled to himself. It was nice to have some action again.

      “Ye just gonne let him go?” asked a voice behind him.

      Luka turned and saw the girl standing at the edge of the light. She took a hesitant step toward him and looked up at him with wide green eyes.

      “I suppose I ought te thank ye,” she said.

      “No need,” Luka said. “I did what had to be done.” He stretched out his hand to her and said, “Come, this is no place to be. Let us find a hot meal.”

      The girl laughed and said, “Oh, aye. Thought ye’d ask.”

      Rather than taking Luka’s hand, she took him by the arm. Luka was surprised for a moment, but he said nothing and simply led the way back toward Perrott Street, carefully stepping over the bodies along the way.

      “Mind ye,” the girl said, “’twill be the first time a customer’s offered me dinner as well.” She looked at him sternly and pointed with her finger. “An’ donne think that means y’ain’t gotte pay, neither.”

      “A meal is just a meal,” Luka said.

      The girl winked at him and said, “’Course ’tis.”

      “What’s your name, girl?” Luka asked, as they reached the street.

      “Ye got a pref’rence?” the girl asked playfully.

      “Yes,” Luka said. “Your real name.”

      The girl hesitated before replying, “Cat.”

      “Cat what?”

      “Why d’ye care?” the girl asked, looking up at him.

      “Because, dear girl,” Luka said, “you showed spirit back there, and you didn’t run when you had the chance. I find that interesting, which makes me find you interesting. But if you prefer, we can part company here and never speak of it again.”

      The girl frowned at him and narrowed her eyes. She thought hard for a few moments before saying, “Caitlin Mackenzie.”

      “Thank you,” Luka said. “And you may call me Luka.”

      “Jus’ Luka?” Cat asked.

      Luka nodded. “Just Luka.”

      “Think I’ll call ye Mister Luka,” Cat said. “Ye bein’ all distinguished an’ killin’ folk an’ such.”

      Luka laughed aloud at this.

      “Tell me, Mister Luka,” Cat said, “why didne ye kill that last fellow?” She looked away, her pretty face momentarily marred by a scowl. “I’d ’a done.”

      “I can hardly kill every criminal in London, can I?” Luka asked.

      Cat smiled at him and said, “Oh, I donno.…”

      “Don’t flatter me girl,” Luka said. “It’s unnecessary. No, I cannot have every gang in London trying to muscle its way in here. I would be so busy fighting, I’d get nothing done. I killed that fellow Higgins’s men and let him go so he could warn off the rest of his kind for me. Any who do venture in, I shall deal with just as I dealt with them. Eventually, most will be too afraid to bother me. And those that do.…”

      Cat grinned at him and drew her thumb across her throat.

      “Aye?” she asked.

      “Aye.”

      “So why ye tellin’ me all this?” Cat asked.

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