Page 78 of Molly Boys

“I erred though.” Baxter sighed. “Mr Smith tends to favour the pretty ones too. It speaks to some deep-seated craving in him, but it was becoming too difficult to find subjects in The Nichol. Mr Smith and I had an agreement with Leland Rackstraw. Five pounds per test subject. Once they’d served their purpose, Mr Smith would return them to The Nichol for Rackstraw’s men to dispose of the evidence. Unfortunately, the last subject was discovered before they could get rid of him. The locals started getting scared and Rackstraw reneged on our deal. I had no choice but to look elsewhere. He said I was taking too many,” Baxter muttered with a long-suffering sigh, “but he had never specified a limit.”

“So you took Charlie instead?” Ev whispered in disgust,

“I knew Mr Wakefield of course, and he was a near-perfect subject. Beautiful, healthy, stronger than he looked. I’d seen him hauling parcels around the shipping office,” Baxter mused. “Mr Smith was supposed to hide his body, not leave him splayed out on the banks of the Thames. But then, Mr Smith isn’t terribly bright. He’s driven by his baser instincts and even when given clear instructions, he doesn’t always follow them.” Baxter took a bottle of chloroform and a folded cloth and placed them on the trolley alongside the other items. “Still, he serves a purpose, so I suppose he’s my cross to bear.” He carefully rolled the trolley toward Ev.

“I thought he was the monster,” Ev told him quietly. “But it’s you. You’re the monster. Do you even feel any remorse at all? You’ve murdered innocent men. You butchered them.”

“I did nothing of the sort. I’m not a monster,” Baxter said, not in the least bit offended. It was as if he were merely stating facts; he didn’t see his victims as people, to him they were livestock. “I can assure you they didn’t suffer. If they were too distressed, I made sure they were unconscious first. Then I drained their blood. They slipped away peacefully and once they were deceased, I opened them up to extract the spinal fluid. Their sacrifice will change everything we know about cell regeneration. The work I’m doing here will revolutionise what we know about medicine.”

“It was not your choice to make,” Ev gritted out from between clenched teeth. “What gives you the right to decide who lives and who dies? You’re not God.”

“No.” Baxter pulled up a stool beside the table Ev lay on and settled himself on it. “But I am his instrument. He made me what I am, but he also gave me the means to grow beyond my limitations. It’s a test, you see.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The secret of life is trapped within all living cells. They’re the building blocks of everything, and God wants me to find that knowledge. Imagine if I can harness that power. Not only will I be able to reverse damage to the human body but I could reverse the aging process, maybe even cheat death itself.”

“You’re mad! Can you hear yourself?” Ev scowled. “In order to do that, you’d have to murder people. So tell me, who chooses who lives and who dies? You?”

Baxter sat back and smiled at Ev like he was a particularly bright student who’d pleased him.

“And that’s why I chose you.” Baxter reached out and drew a lock of hair back from Ev’s temple, making him cringe. “The moment I saw you I knew you were the one… so perfect,” Baxter muttered as he looked over Ev’s naked chest and ran his palm over Ev’s bare skin; Ev’s skin crawled at the touch. “Not just physically perfect, not just beautiful, but your mind. The others just cried and begged until I incapacitated them, but not you. It’s almost a shame. But just know your sacrifice will be the crowning glory. I was so close with the last serum, but this one, this is it.”

“You’re going to hell for what you’re doing,” Ev said bitterly, knowing the likelihood of anyone being able to save him was nonexistent. Not even his Archie. Ev’s heart ached knowing he’d never get to see the inspector again, but at least he would die knowing his kiss, knowing what he tasted like. For one perfect moment he’d experienced true passion in its purest form. It was little comfort, but he kept the memory of Archie close, even as Baxter picked up the first needle and smiled.

“Shall we begin?”

22

“Merritt, I thought I told you to get that head looked at?” Archie eyed the hastily wrapped bandage around Constable Merritt’s head and the remaining smears of dried blood across his cheek that he’d missed in his hurry to clean up.

“You also said you needed every available man to search the factory, Inspector,” he replied with a small smile.

“Good man.” Archie patted his shoulder before turning to the crowd of assembled constables outside H.E. Baxter & Sons. “Alright, listen up. You…” He indicated to half the men. “Start at the top and work your way down. You…” He turned to the remaining men. “Start at the bottom and work up. Kips, stay with Merritt. Shaw, you’re with me. Be quick but be thorough. We don’t know how much time Lord Stanley has.”

Archie drew in a deep breath, focusing on the men at his command and not the deep worry gnawing in the pit of his belly.

“We’re looking for Edmund Baxter,” he continued. “Physically he shouldn’t give you too much trouble. However, we believe he may have an accomplice. A man of an unnaturally large size. It will most likely take more than one person to apprehend him. Stay together in pairs and if you stumble upon either man, use your whistle to alert the others and signal for assistance, understood?”

There was a round of muttered agreement. Since Archie didn’t usually carry a truncheon, he took the spare one Merritt offered. Having seen Baxter’s accomplice in person, he knew he was going to need it.

Lifting his shuttered lantern, he led his men into the building. The locked door offered little resistance to their entry and soon enough they spread out into the darkened maze of the building’s interior to look for the abducted lord.

Moving quickly and as best as he could, Archie tried to recall the route he’d taken in the daylight to the back of the factory where the offices were located. He wasn’t sure how much Harold Baxter knew about his son’s activities, but if what Shaw had said was true, he knew enough to buy his son’s way out of trouble with the Royal College and most likely keep him out of prison. That thought alone boiled Archie’s blood. If Edmund Baxter had committed crimes that his father and the Royal College had covered up, then his victims’ blood was as much on them as on the younger Baxter.

Archie continued at a fast pace, weaving through the shadows and around huge machinery that towered menacingly above them in the near darkness. The shuttered lanterns didn’t offer much light, but it was enough to navigate by.

If Archie was correct, they should be nearing Harold Baxter’s office. His son was currently listed as being employed by the company and, according to the foreman he’d spoken with earlier in the day, Edmund spent a great deal of time at the factory. Doing what, Archie had no idea. His station meant that he most likely wouldn’t have been on the factory floor operating any of the machinery, which meant he had to have some sort of office.

Recognising the corridor they’d entered, Archie could see a light at the other end where he knew Harold Baxter’s office was. As he drew near, the door opened and the man himself appeared holding a small lamp.

“Mr Baxter!” Archie called out. “Police!”

Startled, Harold Baxter looked up, his eyes wide with fear. Without hesitation, he took off down another corridor. Archie broke into a run, following the light as it disappeared around a corner. Holding up his own lantern and with the truncheon gripped firmly in his other hand, he gave chase with Shaw close behind.

* * *

Harold could hear the sounds of pursuit and panicked. The police were everywhere, he could hear them. He didn’t know what they were looking for, but he’d wager his son did. Hurrying down the corridors that were familiar to him, even in the dark, Harold made his way toward the room his son had set up as a laboratory.