The Witches of Whitechapel

Prologue: The Demons of WhitechapelRalph listened to Simon’s breathing in the still of the night. With the patience of the afterglow he retraced his steps back to this moment. Simon sat on the couch. Simon lay in his arms. Blink and you’ll miss it. Ralph hadn’t blinked this time. He hadn’t missed a single heartbeat. Every moment was etched in his mind; every sweaty breath, every uttered syllable, every tender touch of their lovemaking was as vivid now as it would always be. He let his finger trace a pattern across Simon’s arm, a lazy downward-bound spiral that ended in the palm of the other man’s hand. His fingers slipped between Simon’s and he felt insomnia fall away from him. * * * * In the sanctuary of Simon Stark’s bedroom, Ralph awoke long before he wanted to. He knew where he was immediately, but it took a few heartbeats to realize what had woken him up: the chirruping of a mobile phone. The other side of the bed was empty. Ralph was alone in the room. The phone was Simon’s. It lay on the nightstand blinking and ringing. Ralph was aware that it could be work, and the part of him that remembered a very intensive lovemaking—a glance at the watch—not three hours earlier, ached for more sleep. But it could be work, which meant someone needed both him and Simon. When he picked up the mobile and looked at the display, it informed him that the caller was Saoirse. Reading her name gave him a little start. If she was calling on this line, it meant she had tried reaching him on his mobile and he hadn’t answered. Ralph’s phone was safely tucked away in the back pocket of his trousers, which were somewhere in the living room. “Saoirse, this is me,” he immediately said on answering the call. Her voice was panicky. “It’s everywhere! The knocking is everywhere! So loud!” “Where are you?” He leapt out of the bed, sore muscles forgotten, ready to climb into his car naked if need be. “In my room in a protective circle. I don’t feel safe. Please come home. Please, Ralph. Please, Dad!” “I’ll be there quick as I can. Don’t move!” She muttered something, but it could have been anything. Ralph toppled over and fell face first into the living room. His trousers were somewhere by the sofa, and inside them were the car keys. “Simon!” he called. “Where are you?” He managed to get up fairly quickly although without much dignity, then knocked his knee on the arm of the sofa and nearly fell over again. A curse escaped his lips. Another one followed suit when Ralph noticed with much delay that the light in the living room was on. It wasn’t clumsiness that had knocked him over almost twice, though, it was the interior of the room. It had changed dramatically. Sofa, armchair, lamp, telly, a low shelf with books, that little table that always came with sofas and that Ralph had no idea what to call—every piece of furniture and appliance had been rearranged into a huge circle in the middle of the room. In the centre of it stood Simon in his silky, flowing nightgown. The man looked like an apparition. For a fraction of a moment Ralph forgot about Saoirse and the knocking. “What are you doing?” he asked. “I don’t know,” Simon replied miserably. “All I know is that I need more furniture.” Absentmindedly, Ralph picked up his trousers from where they hung over the lamp shade. The keys rattled as he shimmied inside the jeans. “Something is happening to Saoirse,” he explained as calmly as he could. “I need to go home right now. Can you move?” “I think so.” “Good, then you can come with me.” Simon shook his head vehemently. “I’m not dressed,” he protested, but Ralph wanted to hear nothing of it. “I promise I won’t complain.” The mobile began ringing again, this time it was Ralph’s. It was the dispatcher. Someone had found the decapitated body of a man in a pub’s toilet. On the cubicle wall, the dispatcher explained with annoying detachedness, someone had written in blood Hail the Demon King. “You’ve got to love Whitechapel,” he mumbled as he hung up. “Are you being sarcastic?” Simon asked. “Or serious? Or insane?” Ralph wasn’t exactly sure.