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Description
Brandy of the damned.

By Sam Oates.

Chapter 1.

“Quick! He’s coming you’ve got to leave!” The professor was breaking into a panic, as the sound of the heavy footsteps got closer.
“Who’s coming?” Jerry asked, confusion spreading across his chubby face and mixing with the irritation already there.
“Archer,” Ben replied, in a worried tone, and then more sternly “You must leave now.” “Leave?!” Jerry exclaimed, “Why on earth should I leave? He can’t be that teri…”
“Be quiet!” the professor hissed, “ If he hears you we’ll both be for it!”
“ Professor, Ben, Calm down.” Jerry talked in a calm voice and took hold of the panicking man, his grip crinkling Bens brown suit. Bens brown eyes were engorged with fear, his thinning brown hair, if not exactly erect yet was certainly on the way there. Jerry tried to reassure him. “ He’s just some petty thug, I’ve dealt with his kind before, and I’ll take ca...”
“You’ll be killed! Haven’t you been listening to me? You won’t stand a chance on your own- he’ll kill you! He’s …”
“ Dangerous? Wicked?” Jerry interjected; he’d just about had enough of this. His chubby face was beginning to turn red with frustration and he had run his hands through his grey hair in frustration so many times that it was beginning to shed. He was also growing tired of this stuffy room with all these musty books and stark grey filing cabinets and cupboards. The only human touch were a few of Ben’s old wooden toys and some posters and videos from that television show that had been loosely based on him, a sly joke. But this was no time for joking. “ With respect Ben I’ve been listening for hours and I still don’t understand how you can be so scared of this egit. You ask me here for help and all I get is sketchy details and psychobabble! I thought you wanted my help but if you want me to go then that’s fine. Just don’t come to me in fu...”

“ No!” Ben’s wiry form bared his way, terror covered his face. “ Not that way, he’ll see you use...” there was a pause, Ben glanced around the room, terrified. All Jerry could hear was the footsteps and something else, a rap that seemed to accompany them. It seemed to alternate with the footsteps. He began to count the noises, definitely three; Jerry began to wonder if the terror that was advancing down the corridor had three legs. From the look of terror on Ben’s face he would not have been surprised if his tormentor turned out to be some kind of infernal beast. He was about to ask Ben about it when he interrupted his train of thought “ Umm. err... The window! That’s it go out the window!”
“ No way!” Jerry protested “ Stop pushing me! There’s no way I’m going out that window!”
Ben stopped pushing and looked at him quizzically “Why?”
“ Because we’re on the second floor that’s why! Now listen to me…”
“No! You listen to me Jerry!” The index finger of Ben’s left hand almost caught him in the eye as Ben used it to emphasise the point “Be quiet and hide.”
“ Hide? Where do you expect me to hide?”
“Behind the curtains! No, that’s no good,” Ben waved his hand dismissing the idea “Under the… Ben paused for thought, rubbing the index finger of his left hand under his lips. “No.” Clearly that idea was no good, he started to think again. “Umm... Ah! In here.”
“ I’m not going in the cupboard!”
“ Oh yes you are. Now stay in their Jerry and be quiet!”

Cramped into the cold cupboard amongst the paper, stationary and other detritus Jerry was beginning to seriously regret coming to help his old friend. He heard the cupboards lock turn, the radio burst to life. He could hear the announcer, muffled but still audible and echoing in the cupboard “...itle one is always asking me where she came from lately, it was getting on me nerves a bit so I put this on and told her it would explain everything…”. There was a drum roll and he could hear some bubbling then another voice came in accompanied by a tune that had a slight fifties twang about it “I was working in the lab late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight, for my monster form it’s slab began to rise…” Great, not only was he cramped into a tiny, cluttered cupboard he also had to put up with this cheesy tune. He tried to make himself more comfortable, but it was no good “ I should never have come.” He sighed quietly, shaking his head.

Gerard Mortimer Stanley, known as Jerry to all his friends had first met Benjamin Trot, Professor of psychology at Liverpool University at work. Trot was a criminal profiler who had aided him in many of his cases and over time the two had become firm friends. Trot was a tall, thin man and as time had passed his brown hair had thinned till he looked slightly like a monk. Jerry had often teased him about this and Ben always had good retort about how quickly Jerry’s own hair had turned silver or how he had ‘filled out’ over the years. Jerry’s wife Barbara had always complained at how the two bickered like little boys. To tell the truth that was what Jerry valued most in their friendship, that secretly neither had really grown up and they could be open with each other.

So, when Trot had invited him down to the department building Jerry was glad to come but had found it odd that Ben had been so cagey as to why they should meet there. It was clear that Ben was worried about something but what he wouldn’t say over the phone. Even when they had met in person, details had been slow to come Jerry had almost had to force them out and Ben had broken down in tears several times. Jerry was used to questioning people but this was his friend and he couldn’t bring himself to lay into him as if he were a criminal. As the hours passed by certain details began to emerge until a vague picture of his friend’s problem started to appear. It seemed that for sometime Ben had been threatened on a regular basis by a thuggish character called David Archer. Archer seemed to inspire great fear in him and hold great power over him as well. At times he seemed almost demonic. This power Archer had went beyond physical violence, not that he wasn’t able to apply this liberally when needed. Try as he might Jerry couldn’t get Ben to reveal what this power was or what Archer actually wanted. Even basic details like the age, height and appearance of this seemingly hellish apparition were not forthcoming.

He was also confused as to whether Archer was acting alone or as part of a gang as from time to time other names had dropped into the conversation. He had tried to get Ben to clarify if there was a gang, but had got more confused as Ben had blathered on about schizo something or other. This had gone completely over Jerry’s head he was about to ask for a clarification when a voice called for Ben down the corridor. Ben’s mouth had opened wide and a look of pure terror had filled his face and so, in the ensuing panic Jerry had found himself in his current unenviable position. He was locked in this cupboard with only the muffled sound of the radio and his own breathing for company. Suddenly the door opened, Archer was in the room.

A friendly voice with a slight twang suggestive of Yorkshire origins piped up “Ah, Troty! There you are, why didn’t you answer me?” Was this Archer? In his mind a million horrid visions had formed of him but he sounded almost normal. He put his ear to the door and listened to the exchange. “Hello their David. Sorry I didn’t hear you I had the radio on and I’ve been busy marking. You know what it’s like.” Ben replied with poorly masked nervousness. “Yeees,” Archer stretched the word out before saying “I thought I heard voices or something. Never mind, turn it off and lets get on wit...”
“I didn’t expect you, you don’t normally come on Wed...”
“No, I don’t but as you know I’ m a bit unpredictable. Now lets get on,” The music suddenly went dead, normally Jerry would have been relieved but now it only added to the dark atmosphere that permeated from the room into his hiding place. “Where were we last time?” Archer asked.
“ I don’t remember and I’m very busy with this marking. Couldn’t you just come back tomorrow? I’m getting tired of these random visits it’s starting to disrupt my wo...”
“ Your work with me takes precedence and since when did you ‘ave a back bone?” Archer interjected with a raised voice, the friendliness was gone now and had been replaced with a hint of venom The accent began to thicken and become more venomous as he carried on. “ I thought we ‘ad an understanding, I’ll come and go as I please. Not knowing when I’ll pop up keeps you on your toes makes sure you behave. That gives me strength, allows...”
“ It’s got to stop! I have a schedule to keep to, if I don’t then...”
“ Then what? Eh? A stain on your precious rep? You and your precious schedule it makes you predictable, makes you weak. How else do you think I found out what you were doing with...”
“Shut up!” Ben cried, “ I’m tired of you holding this... Umph!” There was a heavy thud, then silence for a minuet or so then Archer began again in a menacing tone.
“ Now you listen, you cods head, you better stop yaffling before I give you a ding on the coconut. You’ve not been like this before what’s up?”

“ Nothing, nothing, just a bit cranky I guess.” There was another pause, somebody was pacing around the room, and then a mocking tone rang out. “ Cranky? Cranky? That’s not the sort of language someone as refined as you uses! Nah! I reckon you’ve been stupid, been talking to the bogies ‘aven’t you?”
There was a crash and a whine after which a panic stricken Trot said “ No I’d never talk to anyone you’d kill me.”
“ There are worse thing than dying Troty. I’ll take somthin’ much more important to you than your life, I’ll take what’s most precious to you. ‘Cos to you that would be worse than being twisted. I can destroy you utterly without breaking a sweat, you know I can. And if I ‘appen to get a visit from the crushers then there’s friends of mine that can do the same. Now tell me what’ve you done?”
“Nothing, honest, I’d never...”

There was another thud. “ Do you take me for a gump? You’re a real strut noddy if you think you can lie to me I know the signs, you taught me that much.”
“ I’m not lying, believe me, please! Umph!” There was a crash and Jerry wedged his feet on the door and began to push.
“ Come on! Even a doddy could see you were lying. Don’t think I won’t do it ‘cos I will!”
“ You wouldn’t! You can’t! Please! I never…”
“ Stop lying! The charade is over; you know what I can do. Do not underestimate me! I am much more than a mere snick fadger. Now tell me!”
“ I can’t she’ll...”
“ She? She? What about me? You betrayed me after all the trouble I went to getting your stuff back from those crib crackers?”
“ What about my computer and…”
“ Never mind that I got the sentimental stuff back and I’ve kept your secrets. Now be a good lad and tell me who she is.”
“ Emily Davidson, she’s very important, a friend of the chancellor and a keen…”
“ Gardener? Member of the witches guild?”
“What?”
“That’s obviously not her real name. Give me a description.”
“ Medium height, mid thirties, long brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, smart casual clothes. She asked a lot of questions about what you were up to and I...”
“ Did you tell her about the lessons?”
“Yes, I…”
“What about our sessions or our little project?”
“ No. I didn’t I swear.”
“On your life?”
“ Yes, I...”
“Really?” Archer asked, then after a pause “ I dare say there isn’t a shadow of a doubt that you told her everything to stop your self being twisted. I’d better go and sort this out sharpish or we’ll both be needing wooden suits.” The door opened, “I’ll be back for you!” Archer cried before slamming the door and hurrying down the corridor.

Ben gave out a sigh of relief. Jerry could hear furniture scraping on the floor; Trot was probably putting the room back in order. This was interrupted when the cupboard door finally gave way and Jerry finally came tumbling out. “ What on earth have you got into? You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he said “ But I’ve got to deal with that scum bag first!” With that he stormed out of the room before Trot could protest.

Jerry hurried down the corridor, he could hear someone on the stairs at this time of night he was sure it was Archer. After all it was around 9 and no body else would be here or going down the stairs so quickly. He hurried down the stairs quickly, from time to time he caught fleeting glimpses of a figure in a black jacket and a grey hat. He didn’t get a better look until he was outside and then he could only see the back of the figure. He (at least from the build he seemed like a man and Jerry presumed that this was Archer) walked with a slight limp in his left leg countered with a wooden walking stick with a silver bottom that glinted in the half-light. He was tall and wore a black suede jacket, with black trousers and black leather shoes. In fact as the pursuit continued to darker streets it was a bit hard to pick him out except for something red stuck in his grey hat and the glint from the bottom of his walking stick. Jerry didn’t know what it was and as the pursuit wore on it dawned on him that he had no plan of action. He had initially followed out of anger; he would catch up with this git and demand an explanation. But now he wasn’t so sure of himself and had followed at a greater distance. Perhaps once he had followed Archer to his destination he could call it in. After all there would probably be trouble with Emily or whatever her name was if his earlier actions were anything to go by. His musing stopped when he turned a corner and saw no sign of Archer.

He looked around, Archer had to have come this way. Where was he? He glanced around, their were a few small piles of rubbish, bits of broken glass and further up the a black smudge suggestive of a long extinguished fire. Otherwise it was empty and seemed to offer no hiding place. Then it dawned on him that he did not know this street. How could this be? Archer had led him through many winding streets but surely they couldn’t have gone that far? After all he had lived in the city all his life, his first beat had been in the outskirts, he hadn’t got lost for years. He walked down the street, Archer could wait, and perhaps there would be a street name or some recognisable landmark if he retraced his steps. As he went on he noticed a ginger cat in the street it had blue eyes and a few old wounds, a stray, probably born on the street. As he passed it looked at him lazily and then suddenly leapt to it’s feet and began to hiss. Jerry backed away slightly “ I’m just passing through!” he chuckled. Then a heavy force laid into his back and brought him to the ground.

“Hello there!” trilled a familiar voice. Jerry got up to his knees and turned around. A man in his mid-twenties with brown eyes and jet-black hair was starring down at him. “ If this were a penny dreadful I’d tell you to take a good look as this will be the last thing you’ll ever see or something but it’s not. Name?”

“ What?”
“Name, occupation, favourite colour, stuff like that you Tom tug.”

“ I could ask you the same. In fact Jerry said as he got up “ I think I will down the station you’ve just assaulted a police...”
“ So you’re a crusher eh? I might have expected that much but at least Troty could have got a fitter one.”
“ So you’re Archer then?” Jerry said and drew closer to him. Archer wore a light blue shirt in addition to the clothes Jerry had seen before. He noticed that the shoes were clean but worn while the jacket was dirty with a rip on one sleeve. The red object in his hat turned out to be a feather! Archer seemed almost comical and the loose shirt collar with a dark blue tie hanging loosely around it only added to the impression. “You have me at a disadvantage Mr?” Archer said as he drew closer and stared down at him. “ I’ m not telling you anything you .. Umph!” A blow caught Jerry full in the stomach. He struggled on his feet and then came back and laid into Archer’s belly. The only reaction from Archer was to a sigh as his eyes rolled upward and he glanced down at the fingernails of his right hand. Then he grabbed Jerry and threw him into the wall of one of the derelict buildings that lined the street. Jerry crashed down into the filthy street. Jerry felt a heavy pressure on his chest; he could feel Archer going through his pockets.

Shortly the pressure on his chest lifted; there was a cry of triumph from Archer “Ha! There we go that wasn’t so hard was it? Now’t like a bit of kiddy nipping eh? Now what do we have we got? Hmm, a bit spangle, I’ll have that Mr..” There was a pause as Archer rifled through Jerry’s things. “ Ah! Stanley, G.M. Stanley to be exact. I knew a Stanley once, an absolute dastard. I don’t rate you very highly either, did you really think I wouldn’t notice you following me? And exactly how long did you intend to stay in that cupboard?”

“ How...”

“Did you really think I am that stupid? I really should have left you in there while me and Troty had a good chat but there was no time.” Archer began to laugh “I don’t know why he chose you as a champion, you’re pathetic. Old, worn, falling apart like this wallet.” he chuckled while he shook Jerry’s fraying leather wallet to emphasise the point. Bits started to fall of it and then a picture fell out. Jerry gazed at it then as Archer as he picked it up and a wicked grin ran across his face. “ A friend of yours?” Archer asked “ No, No, Wife? Daughter?” The grin widened till Archer’s yellowed teeth showed. “ Very nice I must come round to yours sometime and see her.” Archer turned round and walked off down the lane, chuckling to himself.

For Jerry this was the last straw before he knew what he doing a shard of glass from the street had found it’s way into his hand. He charged down the street, Archer turned as the shard found it’s way into his fat gut. By the time Jerry recovered his senses there were several gashes in Archers shirt and blood on the glass. Some of it was his from holding the shard and he dropped it as first a tingle, then a torrent of pain came from the gashes in his hand. He looked at Archer, he was bleeding to but something was wrong. He had seen wounds like this before, there should be more blood and was it a trick of the light or was the blood quite dark? It seemed to be almost oozing out, surely that wasn’t right. Then there was Archer he just was looking at it then he looked up at Jerry. The face became a mask of hate; he drew his jacket over the wound and advanced on Jerry. Jerry picked up the shard “ Keep back...” he said slashing the air. “ I have no time for this.” Archer said in a low menacing tone. He knoked the shard out of Jerry’s hand in one blow and then sent him spinning to the floor with another to the side of the head. Jerry saw Archer advance on him; the world spined, blurred and then everything went black.

Description
Brandy of the damned.

By Sam Oates.

Chapter 1.

“Quick! He’s coming you’ve got to leave!” The professor was breaking into a panic, as the sound of the heavy footsteps got closer.
“Who’s coming?” Jerry asked, confusion spreading across his chubby face and mixing with the irritation already there.
“Archer,” Ben replied, in a worried tone, and then more sternly “You must leave now.” “Leave?!” Jerry exclaimed, “Why on earth should I leave? He can’t be that teri…”
“Be quiet!” the professor hissed, “ If he hears you we’ll both be for it!”
“ Professor, Ben, Calm down.” Jerry talked in a calm voice and took hold of the panicking man, his grip crinkling Bens brown suit. Bens brown eyes were engorged with fear, his thinning brown hair, if not exactly erect yet was certainly on the way there. Jerry tried to reassure him. “ He’s just some petty thug, I’ve dealt with his kind before, and I’ll take ca...”
“You’ll be killed! Haven’t you been listening to me? You won’t stand a chance on your own- he’ll kill you! He’s …”
“ Dangerous? Wicked?” Jerry interjected; he’d just about had enough of this. His chubby face was beginning to turn red with frustration and he had run his hands through his grey hair in frustration so many times that it was beginning to shed. He was also growing tired of this stuffy room with all these musty books and stark grey filing cabinets and cupboards. The only human touch were a few of Ben’s old wooden toys and some posters and videos from that television show that had been loosely based on him, a sly joke. But this was no time for joking. “ With respect Ben I’ve been listening for hours and I still don’t understand how you can be so scared of this egit. You ask me here for help and all I get is sketchy details and psychobabble! I thought you wanted my help but if you want me to go then that’s fine. Just don’t come to me in fu...”

“ No!” Ben’s wiry form bared his way, terror covered his face. “ Not that way, he’ll see you use...” there was a pause, Ben glanced around the room, terrified. All Jerry could hear was the footsteps and something else, a rap that seemed to accompany them. It seemed to alternate with the footsteps. He began to count the noises, definitely three; Jerry began to wonder if the terror that was advancing down the corridor had three legs. From the look of terror on Ben’s face he would not have been surprised if his tormentor turned out to be some kind of infernal beast. He was about to ask Ben about it when he interrupted his train of thought “ Umm. err... The window! That’s it go out the window!”
“ No way!” Jerry protested “ Stop pushing me! There’s no way I’m going out that window!”
Ben stopped pushing and looked at him quizzically “Why?”
“ Because we’re on the second floor that’s why! Now listen to me…”
“No! You listen to me Jerry!” The index finger of Ben’s left hand almost caught him in the eye as Ben used it to emphasise the point “Be quiet and hide.”
“ Hide? Where do you expect me to hide?”
“Behind the curtains! No, that’s no good,” Ben waved his hand dismissing the idea “Under the… Ben paused for thought, rubbing the index finger of his left hand under his lips. “No.” Clearly that idea was no good, he started to think again. “Umm... Ah! In here.”
“ I’m not going in the cupboard!”
“ Oh yes you are. Now stay in their Jerry and be quiet!”

Cramped into the cold cupboard amongst the paper, stationary and other detritus Jerry was beginning to seriously regret coming to help his old friend. He heard the cupboards lock turn, the radio burst to life. He could hear the announcer, muffled but still audible and echoing in the cupboard “...itle one is always asking me where she came from lately, it was getting on me nerves a bit so I put this on and told her it would explain everything…”. There was a drum roll and he could hear some bubbling then another voice came in accompanied by a tune that had a slight fifties twang about it “I was working in the lab late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight, for my monster form it’s slab began to rise…” Great, not only was he cramped into a tiny, cluttered cupboard he also had to put up with this cheesy tune. He tried to make himself more comfortable, but it was no good “ I should never have come.” He sighed quietly, shaking his head.

Gerard Mortimer Stanley, known as Jerry to all his friends had first met Benjamin Trot, Professor of psychology at Liverpool University at work. Trot was a criminal profiler who had aided him in many of his cases and over time the two had become firm friends. Trot was a tall, thin man and as time had passed his brown hair had thinned till he looked slightly like a monk. Jerry had often teased him about this and Ben always had good retort about how quickly Jerry’s own hair had turned silver or how he had ‘filled out’ over the years. Jerry’s wife Barbara had always complained at how the two bickered like little boys. To tell the truth that was what Jerry valued most in their friendship, that secretly neither had really grown up and they could be open with each other.

So, when Trot had invited him down to the department building Jerry was glad to come but had found it odd that Ben had been so cagey as to why they should meet there. It was clear that Ben was worried about something but what he wouldn’t say over the phone. Even when they had met in person, details had been slow to come Jerry had almost had to force them out and Ben had broken down in tears several times. Jerry was used to questioning people but this was his friend and he couldn’t bring himself to lay into him as if he were a criminal. As the hours passed by certain details began to emerge until a vague picture of his friend’s problem started to appear. It seemed that for sometime Ben had been threatened on a regular basis by a thuggish character called David Archer. Archer seemed to inspire great fear in him and hold great power over him as well. At times he seemed almost demonic. This power Archer had went beyond physical violence, not that he wasn’t able to apply this liberally when needed. Try as he might Jerry couldn’t get Ben to reveal what this power was or what Archer actually wanted. Even basic details like the age, height and appearance of this seemingly hellish apparition were not forthcoming.

He was also confused as to whether Archer was acting alone or as part of a gang as from time to time other names had dropped into the conversation. He had tried to get Ben to clarify if there was a gang, but had got more confused as Ben had blathered on about schizo something or other. This had gone completely over Jerry’s head he was about to ask for a clarification when a voice called for Ben down the corridor. Ben’s mouth had opened wide and a look of pure terror had filled his face and so, in the ensuing panic Jerry had found himself in his current unenviable position. He was locked in this cupboard with only the muffled sound of the radio and his own breathing for company. Suddenly the door opened, Archer was in the room.

A friendly voice with a slight twang suggestive of Yorkshire origins piped up “Ah, Troty! There you are, why didn’t you answer me?” Was this Archer? In his mind a million horrid visions had formed of him but he sounded almost normal. He put his ear to the door and listened to the exchange. “Hello their David. Sorry I didn’t hear you I had the radio on and I’ve been busy marking. You know what it’s like.” Ben replied with poorly masked nervousness. “Yeees,” Archer stretched the word out before saying “I thought I heard voices or something. Never mind, turn it off and lets get on wit...”
“I didn’t expect you, you don’t normally come on Wed...”
“No, I don’t but as you know I’ m a bit unpredictable. Now lets get on,” The music suddenly went dead, normally Jerry would have been relieved but now it only added to the dark atmosphere that permeated from the room into his hiding place. “Where were we last time?” Archer asked.
“ I don’t remember and I’m very busy with this marking. Couldn’t you just come back tomorrow? I’m getting tired of these random visits it’s starting to disrupt my wo...”
“ Your work with me takes precedence and since when did you ‘ave a back bone?” Archer interjected with a raised voice, the friendliness was gone now and had been replaced with a hint of venom The accent began to thicken and become more venomous as he carried on. “ I thought we ‘ad an understanding, I’ll come and go as I please. Not knowing when I’ll pop up keeps you on your toes makes sure you behave. That gives me strength, allows...”
“ It’s got to stop! I have a schedule to keep to, if I don’t then...”
“ Then what? Eh? A stain on your precious rep? You and your precious schedule it makes you predictable, makes you weak. How else do you think I found out what you were doing with...”
“Shut up!” Ben cried, “ I’m tired of you holding this... Umph!” There was a heavy thud, then silence for a minuet or so then Archer began again in a menacing tone.
“ Now you listen, you cods head, you better stop yaffling before I give you a ding on the coconut. You’ve not been like this before what’s up?”

“ Nothing, nothing, just a bit cranky I guess.” There was another pause, somebody was pacing around the room, and then a mocking tone rang out. “ Cranky? Cranky? That’s not the sort of language someone as refined as you uses! Nah! I reckon you’ve been stupid, been talking to the bogies ‘aven’t you?”
There was a crash and a whine after which a panic stricken Trot said “ No I’d never talk to anyone you’d kill me.”
“ There are worse thing than dying Troty. I’ll take somthin’ much more important to you than your life, I’ll take what’s most precious to you. ‘Cos to you that would be worse than being twisted. I can destroy you utterly without breaking a sweat, you know I can. And if I ‘appen to get a visit from the crushers then there’s friends of mine that can do the same. Now tell me what’ve you done?”
“Nothing, honest, I’d never...”

There was another thud. “ Do you take me for a gump? You’re a real strut noddy if you think you can lie to me I know the signs, you taught me that much.”
“ I’m not lying, believe me, please! Umph!” There was a crash and Jerry wedged his feet on the door and began to push.
“ Come on! Even a doddy could see you were lying. Don’t think I won’t do it ‘cos I will!”
“ You wouldn’t! You can’t! Please! I never…”
“ Stop lying! The charade is over; you know what I can do. Do not underestimate me! I am much more than a mere snick fadger. Now tell me!”
“ I can’t she’ll...”
“ She? She? What about me? You betrayed me after all the trouble I went to getting your stuff back from those crib crackers?”
“ What about my computer and…”
“ Never mind that I got the sentimental stuff back and I’ve kept your secrets. Now be a good lad and tell me who she is.”
“ Emily Davidson, she’s very important, a friend of the chancellor and a keen…”
“ Gardener? Member of the witches guild?”
“What?”
“That’s obviously not her real name. Give me a description.”
“ Medium height, mid thirties, long brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, smart casual clothes. She asked a lot of questions about what you were up to and I...”
“ Did you tell her about the lessons?”
“Yes, I…”
“What about our sessions or our little project?”
“ No. I didn’t I swear.”
“On your life?”
“ Yes, I...”
“Really?” Archer asked, then after a pause “ I dare say there isn’t a shadow of a doubt that you told her everything to stop your self being twisted. I’d better go and sort this out sharpish or we’ll both be needing wooden suits.” The door opened, “I’ll be back for you!” Archer cried before slamming the door and hurrying down the corridor.

Ben gave out a sigh of relief. Jerry could hear furniture scraping on the floor; Trot was probably putting the room back in order. This was interrupted when the cupboard door finally gave way and Jerry finally came tumbling out. “ What on earth have you got into? You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” he said “ But I’ve got to deal with that scum bag first!” With that he stormed out of the room before Trot could protest.

Jerry hurried down the corridor, he could hear someone on the stairs at this time of night he was sure it was Archer. After all it was around 9 and no body else would be here or going down the stairs so quickly. He hurried down the stairs quickly, from time to time he caught fleeting glimpses of a figure in a black jacket and a grey hat. He didn’t get a better look until he was outside and then he could only see the back of the figure. He (at least from the build he seemed like a man and Jerry presumed that this was Archer) walked with a slight limp in his left leg countered with a wooden walking stick with a silver bottom that glinted in the half-light. He was tall and wore a black suede jacket, with black trousers and black leather shoes. In fact as the pursuit continued to darker streets it was a bit hard to pick him out except for something red stuck in his grey hat and the glint from the bottom of his walking stick. Jerry didn’t know what it was and as the pursuit wore on it dawned on him that he had no plan of action. He had initially followed out of anger; he would catch up with this git and demand an explanation. But now he wasn’t so sure of himself and had followed at a greater distance. Perhaps once he had followed Archer to his destination he could call it in. After all there would probably be trouble with Emily or whatever her name was if his earlier actions were anything to go by. His musing stopped when he turned a corner and saw no sign of Archer.

He looked around, Archer had to have come this way. Where was he? He glanced around, their were a few small piles of rubbish, bits of broken glass and further up the a black smudge suggestive of a long extinguished fire. Otherwise it was empty and seemed to offer no hiding place. Then it dawned on him that he did not know this street. How could this be? Archer had led him through many winding streets but surely they couldn’t have gone that far? After all he had lived in the city all his life, his first beat had been in the outskirts, he hadn’t got lost for years. He walked down the street, Archer could wait, and perhaps there would be a street name or some recognisable landmark if he retraced his steps. As he went on he noticed a ginger cat in the street it had blue eyes and a few old wounds, a stray, probably born on the street. As he passed it looked at him lazily and then suddenly leapt to it’s feet and began to hiss. Jerry backed away slightly “ I’m just passing through!” he chuckled. Then a heavy force laid into his back and brought him to the ground.

“Hello there!” trilled a familiar voice. Jerry got up to his knees and turned around. A man in his mid-twenties with brown eyes and jet-black hair was starring down at him. “ If this were a penny dreadful I’d tell you to take a good look as this will be the last thing you’ll ever see or something but it’s not. Name?”

“ What?”
“Name, occupation, favourite colour, stuff like that you Tom tug.”

“ I could ask you the same. In fact Jerry said as he got up “ I think I will down the station you’ve just assaulted a police...”
“ So you’re a crusher eh? I might have expected that much but at least Troty could have got a fitter one.”
“ So you’re Archer then?” Jerry said and drew closer to him. Archer wore a light blue shirt in addition to the clothes Jerry had seen before. He noticed that the shoes were clean but worn while the jacket was dirty with a rip on one sleeve. The red object in his hat turned out to be a feather! Archer seemed almost comical and the loose shirt collar with a dark blue tie hanging loosely around it only added to the impression. “You have me at a disadvantage Mr?” Archer said as he drew closer and stared down at him. “ I’ m not telling you anything you .. Umph!” A blow caught Jerry full in the stomach. He struggled on his feet and then came back and laid into Archer’s belly. The only reaction from Archer was to a sigh as his eyes rolled upward and he glanced down at the fingernails of his right hand. Then he grabbed Jerry and threw him into the wall of one of the derelict buildings that lined the street. Jerry crashed down into the filthy street. Jerry felt a heavy pressure on his chest; he could feel Archer going through his pockets.

Shortly the pressure on his chest lifted; there was a cry of triumph from Archer “Ha! There we go that wasn’t so hard was it? Now’t like a bit of kiddy nipping eh? Now what do we have we got? Hmm, a bit spangle, I’ll have that Mr..” There was a pause as Archer rifled through Jerry’s things. “ Ah! Stanley, G.M. Stanley to be exact. I knew a Stanley once, an absolute dastard. I don’t rate you very highly either, did you really think I wouldn’t notice you following me? And exactly how long did you intend to stay in that cupboard?”

“ How...”

“Did you really think I am that stupid? I really should have left you in there while me and Troty had a good chat but there was no time.” Archer began to laugh “I don’t know why he chose you as a champion, you’re pathetic. Old, worn, falling apart like this wallet.” he chuckled while he shook Jerry’s fraying leather wallet to emphasise the point. Bits started to fall of it and then a picture fell out. Jerry gazed at it then as Archer as he picked it up and a wicked grin ran across his face. “ A friend of yours?” Archer asked “ No, No, Wife? Daughter?” The grin widened till Archer’s yellowed teeth showed. “ Very nice I must come round to yours sometime and see her.” Archer turned round and walked off down the lane, chuckling to himself.

For Jerry this was the last straw before he knew what he doing a shard of glass from the street had found it’s way into his hand. He charged down the street, Archer turned as the shard found it’s way into his fat gut. By the time Jerry recovered his senses there were several gashes in Archers shirt and blood on the glass. Some of it was his from holding the shard and he dropped it as first a tingle, then a torrent of pain came from the gashes in his hand. He looked at Archer, he was bleeding to but something was wrong. He had seen wounds like this before, there should be more blood and was it a trick of the light or was the blood quite dark? It seemed to be almost oozing out, surely that wasn’t right. Then there was Archer he just was looking at it then he looked up at Jerry. The face became a mask of hate; he drew his jacket over the wound and advanced on Jerry. Jerry picked up the shard “ Keep back...” he said slashing the air. “ I have no time for this.” Archer said in a low menacing tone. He knoked the shard out of Jerry’s hand in one blow and then sent him spinning to the floor with another to the side of the head. Jerry saw Archer advance on him; the world spined, blurred and then everything went black.