Morvicti Blood (A Morvicti Novel Book 1) (33 page)

She shoved her elbow as hard as she could into the man’s gut. His hold faltered, and she broke free, falling to the ground.

The man aimed his gun at her, choking out the words, “Halfblood bitch.”

Austin fired his weapon, taking the attacker out.

She ran to Dr. Wilson and gently removed the tape over his mouth. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I-I just wanted to warn you, b-but I almost got you killed.”

Austin bent down over the stranger. “He took several shots to the chest. No one could survive that many bullets.”

Dr. Wilson stood. “I-I need to get to Gita. She was hurt.”

Angelique grabbed his hand. “I’m so sorry, Thomas. She didn’t make it.”

He closed his eyes and wept. “It’s my fault. Oh God, why did I leave her?”

She wrapped her arms around him, as his grief overtook him. Tears welled in her eyes. Gita was gone. Michael was still the prisoner of The Ripper.
When will this nightmare end? Please God, let Michael still be alive.

Austin lifted the gun from their attacker. He reached into the man’s coat, pulling out a wallet.

Notably still shaken and trying to compose himself, Dr. Wilson opened his eyes and pulled out his pipe, which had somehow survived the attack. “Who is he, Austin?”

“Damn.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“This guy is Directorate of Information for the Metropolitan Police Service. Says here his name is David Bell, but who knows if that’s his real name?”

“I always wondered if there were any corrupt policemen in London. Now I know.”

“Do you think Bell is the one who broke into your lab earlier, Doc?” Austin asked.

“Perhaps, but I’m afraid Mr. Bell will not be the last to come to silence us. He is just one pawn in the game. We still don’t know where Commissioner Poole is. There are likely other players we’ve yet to uncover. When those expecting Bell to report back to them realize he’s not coming, they will send someone else to find out why.”

“He tied you up and was waiting for us to return,” Austin said. “He wasn’t in a big hurry. I’m guessing we have a couple hours before another like him shows up.”

“That’s a logical assumption.” Dr. Wilson sighed. “My poor Gita is dead at the hands of this bastard. And now he’s dead. We can’t ask him any questions. We can’t call the police. What do we do now? Two hours is not much time.”

“Do you think Bell could be The Ripper?” she asked, her anxiety growing. “Maybe he was lying.”

“I don’t believe he was, my dear.”

“I agree,” Austin said. “The killer has never deviated from how he communicates with us. Messages and packages, only.”

“The Ripper has made it clear that he wants me to prove my work.”

“We have three packages, Doc. And Angelique and I saw two more by your front door.”

“I can explain. While you went to the parking garage I went to Henriques Street. That’s where Elizabeth Stride, The Ripper’s third victim in 1888, was found. Then I went to Mitre Square. That’s where his fourth victim, Catherine Eddowes, lost her life. As expected, there was a box at each location.” Once again, Dr. Wilson closed his eyes. “When I left this evening, I didn’t let Gita know. I was so caught up in the excitement. The Ripper was going to give me the proof I have been searching for my entire career. Now, my poor Gita is dead. Because of me. It’s my fault.” Tears ran from the corners of the old man’s eyes.

Angelique put her arm around his shoulder. “Bell is the one who killed her. Not you. We’re doing the best we can fighting an invisible enemy.”

“They are invisible, aren’t they?” Dr. Wilson shook his head. “I’m afraid the vastness of this conspiracy is broader than any of us imagined. Poole is Commissioner of the City of London Police.” He pointed at Bell’s body. “This man held a high position at the Met.”

“They’ve got the law on their side,” Austin added.

“That’s most definite.” Dr. Wilson rubbed his chin. “What else do we know?”

“One of our notes from the killer mentioned a group called the ‘Morvicti,’ ” she said. “Have you ever heard of them?”

“No. I haven’t.”

“There are those who don’t want your hypothesis about the unknown hominids to go public. I believe they are likely the Morvicti The Ripper mentioned,” Angelique said, thinking about the killer’s last letter to her. “And The Ripper seems like he wants the exact opposite of the Morvicti. He is pushing hard to get your work proven, fast. The Ripper wants to start some kind of new world with me. What does that mean?”

“The Ripper is insane, Sis. That’s what it means.”

“When we open The Ripper’s packages and run my tests on the contents I think we’ll get most of our answers concerning the man.”

“We have the foot of a duchess in one of the packages,” Angelique said. “And the ear of Walt Turner in the other.”

“A duchess? Interesting. And we already know that Walt Turner held a powerful position at one of the largest global banks in the world.” Dr. Wilson tapped his fingers on the table next to him. “Nancy Black, the first victim of The Ripper, was a powerful member of Parliament. Gail Simmons, his second, was a popular actress.”

“What are you thinking, Doc?” Austin asked. “Do you believe The Ripper is fighting this conspiracy, too?”

“All of his victims have been very important people. He’s insane, but at the same time very clever. Police. Finance. Politics. Entertainment. And only God knows what else. There’s definitely some kind of connection. I believe The Ripper knows more about the forces we’ve been dealing with than we do. I need to run my tests on the samples in the boxes.”

“Let me run a sweep of the house and make sure Bell was alone.” Austin headed down the stairs.

Angelique wanted to help solve this mystery. She thought of the innocent people who had already fallen victim to the conspiracy. But the largest part of her wondered if any of this would help them find Michael.

CHAPTER 61

10:05 PM

Austin returned to the lab. “All clear.”

“Good,” Doc Wilson said. “The first thing I’d like to do is get this trash put away.” He pointed to Bell’s body. “There’s a cold storage room in the back of the lab. Let’s put him there.”

“I’ll take care of it, Doc. You get your tests set up.”

“Brilliant. We have a lot of work to do.”

When he came back, the counters were filled with test tubes and all kinds of gadgets he didn’t recognize. “Quite the set up you have here, Doc.”

“It’s my pride and joy. I’ve perfected my sequencing technique to identify unique genetic markers in under an hour.”

“That’s a good thing, Doc. I’d like to be long gone before one of David Bell’s friends shows up.”

In a shaky voice, as if suddenly dealing with the fact that his love had been lost, Doc asked, “Would you mind helping me get Gita into her bed?”

“Sure thing.” As they headed down the stairs, he turned to Angelique. She was consumed with fear for Michael. Hoping to keep her from worrying, he said, “I’ve got to hand it to you. That elbow jab was sheer perfection and could not have come at a better time. Maybe you should sign up for the SEALs.”

She smiled weakly. “Maybe I should.”

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Doc walked over to Gita’s body. Austin saw the man’s shoulders sag. The vitality seemed to have gone out of him. For the first time since they’d met him, Doc looked truly old. “I can’t leave her like this. I want to put her in her bed.”

“Of course not, Doc.” He bent down and was a little surprised to see Gita’s hand was no longer on her stomach as it had been when they’d found her. But he’d seen dead men’s limbs jerk on the battlefield long after their hearts had stopped beating. Just to be sure, he pressed his fingers to her neck. Still no pulse. He lifted her into his arms. “Where’s her bed?”

Doc Wilson led them to the door closest to the entrance. They walked into Gita’s flat.

“Ultra modern?” Angelique’s surprise mirrored his own.

“I would have thought her tastes would run to the more traditional.” Austin glanced around the space. Two white leather sofas with metal legs faced each other. Between them sat a glass coffee table. The pillows and two paintings had the only splashes of color, a deep red.

“Not my Gita,” Doc choked out, wiping his eyes. “Sleek lines and minimalism spoke to her esthetic. Her bedroom is through here.”

Austin carried Gita to the bed.

Doc pulled the sheet up to her neck. He fluffed her pillow. “Sleep well, my dear Gita. I’m so sorry.” With tears in his eyes, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

Angelique wiped her eyes, and Austin squeezed her hand.

Doc turned to them. “Gita would want us to finish this work.”

“Let’s go,” he said.

Angelique nodded.

Austin went out to the car and got the three packages he and Angelique had retrieved. Returning, he saw Angelique and Doc Wilson holding the other two that Doc had found.

Back in the lab, they opened the boxes.

Besides the foot and ear, there was a heart, a kidney, and a liver, as usual, packed in dry ice. The other two Ripper letters were just as bizarre as the three he and Angelique had found.

Doc read the one from Henriques Street.

To my dearest Angelique,

Long Liz died here, my love. Like the other two, she was only human.

The liver enclosed is for Dr. Wilson. Once his work is done and published, our oppressors will be exposed to the world. The foundations of their power will crumble.

Out of the ashes you and I will rise as king and queen, Adam and Eve, god and goddess. Austin will be our general, enforcing our will on the lesser. Perhaps Michael could be a servant in our home. Would you like that?

Go to Mitre Square, my angel. Each step you take brings you closer to my arms.

With all my love,

Jack

“Damn him to hell,” Angelique cursed. “If he hurts Michael I will kill him myself.”

“Be sure to cut off his head if you do, as The Ripper has done with his targets the past few weeks,” Doc said. “Even in 1888, the killer always cut his victims throats nearly severing their heads.”

“And Walt Turner’s head was removed from his body.” Austin recalled how he had discovered him on Murphy Street.

“And the mummy of the mother my team found in Guatemala had been decapitated long ago. When the masked man arrived at the site he had made sure to behead the mummified baby.”

Angelique nodded. “And Kelsi Vicker’s Egyptian mummies’ heads were severed during a looting a few years back.”

“Alleged looting,” Doc said. “There are ancient superstitions that say to kill monsters and demons you must cut off their heads. If my hypothesis is correct, that would be the only way to permanently end the life of a member of this unknown species.”

“If that’s true, then what about Bell?” she asked. “He might be one of them, but I don’t want to cut off his head.”

“A good point, and I am in total agreement,” Doc said.

Before this morning, Austin wouldn’t have believed anyone could come back from the bullets the bastard had taken. But now, after everything he’d witnessed, he realized it was possible.

Hell, I came back from the dead.

“We need to secure him. Doc, do you have any rope I could tie the bastard up with?”

“I don’t believe so.” Doc opened a cabinet. “Will this work?” he asked, pulling out a roll of duct tape.

He nodded, taking the roll. He used all of the tape on Bell, who didn’t appear to him to have any chance of breathing again.
Better safe than sorry, though it still seems very strange to be tying up a dead man.

“Bell won’t be moving a muscle even if his heart somehow starts beating again.” He turned to Doc. “So which do you think Bell and The Ripper are—zombies or ghouls?”

“Neither. More like vampires.”

“Thomas, you can’t mean you think I’m half vampire, do you?” Angelique asked. “I don’t like to see blood and I certainly don’t want to taste it.”

“My dear, I’m not talking about the kind of vampires in movies and books.” Doc grinned. “What if the myths of vampires have a biological explanation? If an unknown hominid group has been living in secret among humanity for eons, certainly some witnessed them going into a state of hyper-hibernation.”

“Like me, Doc?” Austin asked.

“Yes, just like you. Even today, people would be stunned seeing a person thought dead come back to life. Imagine how unsettling it would have been centuries ago.”

“You can’t imagine how shocked I was when Austin showed up at my door this morning.”

“If we have any chance of surviving this night, I need to test both of you more thoroughly. But I can’t run the tests on my own. They are quite precise, and with my Parkinson’s, I need an assistant.” He paused for a moment as fresh tears rolled down his cheeks. “Gita always helped me, but I guess I will have to call one of my techs. They are young and love to party this time of night. I hope I can reach at least one of them.”