Read Online The Dolocher by European P. Douglas - Free Book Online
Authors: European P. Douglas
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alone?” Edwards asked, “Brave or silly I don’t know?”
“Have you heard anything more about it?”
“Nothing solid, there are obviously rumours going around.”
“Such as?”
“Just what I have already told you, a large dog, a wolf, things like that,” and then at this he chuckled as if remembering something funny.
“What is it?” Alderman asked.
“I just remembered that there is also a rumour that the wooden carving of the devil at the archway there has been leaving his perch at night doing these things,” and he laughed out loud this time. This didn’t amuse James, and he looked towards the arch in question nervously. It was too dark to be able to see if the statue was there or not, the lantern that was there was not lit at the moment.
“I’m going into the Liberties to a walk around by the prison,” James said as confidently as he could, “Would you like to join me?”
“Yes why not, I’ve had enough of those fellows for one day,” Edwards said and they set off in the direction of the arch.
As they approached it, James could feel the fear growing inside him, and he became convinced that the carving would not be there when they passed underneath the arch. He did his best not to show any outward signs of his fear but Edwards was not paying attention to him anyway, and he passed through the arch without even glancing in the direction of the carving. James followed through, and he did look, and there was a wave of relief as he saw that it was indeed where it always had been.
This was another of those Irish sense of humour things that he didn’t get. Here was this area adjacent to the grounds of Christ Church and the locals had decided to call the place Hell and put up an idol of the Devil at its entrance way, and every single person here as afraid of the Devil as he was. It beggars belief.
They took a circuitous route that brought them down Cook Street and around by Wormwood, up John Street, across to Vicar Street, then took Swift's Alley to Francis Street and came to Corn Market through Cutpurse. They didn’t speak on the way and they watched the lives of the people they passed; men coming out of taverns, women who were probably prostitutes, children hiding and running who probably didn’t have any where to stay. It was grim to walk here after ten on a Sunday evening.
When they were finally standing outside the gates of the prison, they could feel the eyes of the guards on them, more eyes than they could see they felt sure.
“Poor lads,” Edwards said, “They must be terrified that they will be next.”
“Probably” James agreed. He was looking at the walls of the prison and looked at where the first guard had been mauled and then they walked a little up Back Lane to where the torn, shredded and bloodied remains of the second guard were found.
“They’ve stopped patrolling from without the walls of the prison,” James said though he knew that Edwards would already know this.
“Seems sensible considering what has happened” he replied. James bent down and he examined the wall where the second guards clothes and halberd had been found, there were blood splashes on the wall that had not been cleaned up.
“It seems reasonable that the attacker came from the lanes of the City Market” James mused nodding across the thin lane to an even thinner alley just across from where they stood.
“Maybe” Edwards nodded in half agreement.
“Maybe?”
“Yes.”
“Why only maybe?” James pressed.
“Well, you and everyone else who is looking into this seem to always assume that it was an animal that walks and uses the street and lanes the way that we do but look at these walls, look at all those sections where brick is missing or at all the window ledges and low walls everywhere,” Edwards said gesturing at an example of each thing as he said it.
“I see! You know, you’re right; an animal is much more agile and dexterous than we are. I have been seeing things very narrowly
“Have you heard anything more about it?”
“Nothing solid, there are obviously rumours going around.”
“Such as?”
“Just what I have already told you, a large dog, a wolf, things like that,” and then at this he chuckled as if remembering something funny.
“What is it?” Alderman asked.
“I just remembered that there is also a rumour that the wooden carving of the devil at the archway there has been leaving his perch at night doing these things,” and he laughed out loud this time. This didn’t amuse James, and he looked towards the arch in question nervously. It was too dark to be able to see if the statue was there or not, the lantern that was there was not lit at the moment.
“I’m going into the Liberties to a walk around by the prison,” James said as confidently as he could, “Would you like to join me?”
“Yes why not, I’ve had enough of those fellows for one day,” Edwards said and they set off in the direction of the arch.
As they approached it, James could feel the fear growing inside him, and he became convinced that the carving would not be there when they passed underneath the arch. He did his best not to show any outward signs of his fear but Edwards was not paying attention to him anyway, and he passed through the arch without even glancing in the direction of the carving. James followed through, and he did look, and there was a wave of relief as he saw that it was indeed where it always had been.
This was another of those Irish sense of humour things that he didn’t get. Here was this area adjacent to the grounds of Christ Church and the locals had decided to call the place Hell and put up an idol of the Devil at its entrance way, and every single person here as afraid of the Devil as he was. It beggars belief.
They took a circuitous route that brought them down Cook Street and around by Wormwood, up John Street, across to Vicar Street, then took Swift's Alley to Francis Street and came to Corn Market through Cutpurse. They didn’t speak on the way and they watched the lives of the people they passed; men coming out of taverns, women who were probably prostitutes, children hiding and running who probably didn’t have any where to stay. It was grim to walk here after ten on a Sunday evening.
When they were finally standing outside the gates of the prison, they could feel the eyes of the guards on them, more eyes than they could see they felt sure.
“Poor lads,” Edwards said, “They must be terrified that they will be next.”
“Probably” James agreed. He was looking at the walls of the prison and looked at where the first guard had been mauled and then they walked a little up Back Lane to where the torn, shredded and bloodied remains of the second guard were found.
“They’ve stopped patrolling from without the walls of the prison,” James said though he knew that Edwards would already know this.
“Seems sensible considering what has happened” he replied. James bent down and he examined the wall where the second guards clothes and halberd had been found, there were blood splashes on the wall that had not been cleaned up.
“It seems reasonable that the attacker came from the lanes of the City Market” James mused nodding across the thin lane to an even thinner alley just across from where they stood.
“Maybe” Edwards nodded in half agreement.
“Maybe?”
“Yes.”
“Why only maybe?” James pressed.
“Well, you and everyone else who is looking into this seem to always assume that it was an animal that walks and uses the street and lanes the way that we do but look at these walls, look at all those sections where brick is missing or at all the window ledges and low walls everywhere,” Edwards said gesturing at an example of each thing as he said it.
“I see! You know, you’re right; an animal is much more agile and dexterous than we are. I have been seeing things very narrowly
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