“I was very convincing.”
“If you embarrass me again I will cut you off without a second thought. Do you understand me?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“Ebeneezer. No more dressing up, no more games, no more chaos. You must have control over what you are, or you will fall into madness.”
“I am already mad, Father.”
He didn’t answer me, and then ate some more of the beef. “Every action you take represents me. You are my assassin and you must behave in a manner I see fitting.”
“What do you want from me?”
“You will leave these London policeman alone. You will concentrate on your work. I am eager to hear your next project.”
“Yes, yes. I was thinking of prostitutes, knives and a doctor’s bag. I thought souvenirs could be taken and eaten.”
Daddy smiled deeply. “I like that very much, very much. How will you kill them?”
“Scissor knife slashing!” And I slice my beef to show him.
“Good. It sends a clear message.” He wiped his lips with his napkin. “If you play childish games again with the policeman you will be on your own. I will not tolerate any more silliness. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Father.”
We began to eat the pudding with custard. Great creamy dollops. Each mouthful a sin.
Part Four
I: September 1888
The Feast — Please help yourself to the buffet
My house, my father’s house, is full of demons. Stuffed full of them. Sweeties in a jam jar.
This simply will not do.
* * *
My name is John Loveheart and I was not born wicked.
* * *
Loveheart Loveheart Loveheart Loveheart Loveheart I hold the pistol to Mr Fingers’ brain.
Loveheart Loveheart Loveheart Loveheart Loveheart You will remember my name.
* * *
I shoot him in the head. His brain explodes all over the wall.
He’s not happy about it.
Whilst his brain reforms, I shoot a few of the monsters in dinner suits. Heads bursting like tomatoes over my beautiful wallpaper.
“YOU WOULD BETRAY ME? YOU STUPID LITTLE BOY!”
I reply as restrained as possible. “Get out of my house or I will use your skull as a vase.”
“I AM YOUR FATHER. HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT.”
“You’re not my father. You’re an imposter.” I shoot Doctor Cherrytree, who is trying to sneak off like a snivelling coward. He screams and falls dead on the floor.
The sea of monsters grabs me. His vile acquaintances.
“Hold him!” shrieks Mr Fingers, “You’re finished, Loveheart.” And he moves his hand towards my throat.
I look over to Mirror. “I’m so sorry,” I say to her.
A great eagle flies through the window, smashing glass and circles the demons, screeching. It is her protector. A great pounding at the door sounds and it bursts open.
Death walks into the room.
“I am sorry for intruding,” the boy says, softly. His voice has a supernatural quality, and he smells of formaldehyde. Mr Fingers knows who he is. He knows and he is worried. The boy continues, “You appear to be having a party. I rarely get invited to parties. I tend to spoil them.”
“What do you want?” Mr Fingers looks distinctly uncomfortable.
“We had a little discussion, if I recall. You are not going to eat her. You are not going to increase your power.”
“How dare you! What gives you the right to tell me what to do?” cries Mr Fingers.
“Because I am older than Time, I am the great equalizer. You will do what I say or I will EVAPORATE YOU.”
A great muttering among the guests, and I am released.
“No!” Mr Fingers screams, “NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!”
The boy raises his hands gently in the air and the monsters in dinner jackets start to crumble into dust, one by one like a sea wave. I unlock the cage and carry the woman Mirror in my arms.
“What are you doing?” screams Mr Fingers, “She is my food!”
The eagle circles him, screeching. A great mirror hangs on the wall behind him, and the glass is starting to shift and move like water. She is doing something. The great eagle claws at his face, screeching wildly. She is staring into the mirror and it is opening like a doorway. She raises her hand and he is sucked into it. His scream is like a child. He tries to smash his way out but he’s locked in there.
She looks out at the remaining guests and they start to explode like champagne corks. Heads popping off.
This is all rather fun.
The eagle circles the room.
Death watches and I am laughing. I sit Mirror on my father’s chair. The blood is filling up the room. I stand on the table of the feast and laugh at the corpses.
All is suddenly quiet. Mirror is stroking the eagle’s head as though they are lovers. It is over. My kingdom has been returned to me. I can hear Mr Fingers behind me, banging on the mirror, and I wave at him. The lady and the eagle move to leave. Mirror approaches Death.
“Thank you,” she says.