6_3

Bailey’s cottage was already filled to capacity so they asked Reverend Butler to take Stokes in, explaining that he was come from London to help find the killer. Butler was all too happy to help, and as soon as the new comers were settled in, they all met for a council of action.
Now there were six of them; Bailey, de Hogue, Arkwright, Melchior, Norris and Stokes. All hard, experienced men except for Melchior, but as the representative of the treasury, he held his own amongst them. He had acquired a pistol from some where, the first gun he had ever held, and the day before he had stood in the back garden of Bailey’s cottage, practicing against bottles and bricks.
Bailey spread the map of Saint Albans out on the table.
The last time he had looked upon this map, there had been a sense of exuberance about the table, but now there was nothing but worried concern. Stokes alone seemed impervious to the emotion. He sat at the far end of the table, his legs crossed, facing the window with half closed eyes.
“We have no idea who the killer is” Bailey said. “But we do know this; he has left three dead people, here, here and here.” He jabbed his finger onto the map. “All three bodies were found on the eastern side of the island, and none of the dead sheep have turned up any where within a mile of the village. The closest was the old goat at the Tyler farm”
“Why do you suppose he kills the sheep?” Melchior asked.
Arkwright interjected,
“That’s the way it is with these mad men. They get some sort of idea in their head, say that all sheep are instruments of the devil and then they go berserk killing every sheep they can… I remember there was one woman a few years back that killed a baby because she thought it was a devil sent to kill her.”
De Hogue shook his head.
“I’ve seen several of these dead sheep and examined them closely. They were not just killed. They were torn apart and partially consumed.” He curled in his lip in disgust and looked about the table. “What kind of aman can consume the innards of so many sheep in such a short time?”
“How do you know he eats them?” Arkwright replied. “I’ve seen lots of lunatics who collected the strangest things.”
“It’s true” Bailey added. “We had one man at Newgate for a while who collected all the refuse his own body produced. He went into a screaming fury if any one tried to remove it.”
“Why?” Melchior asked.
“He tried to make a sculpture of his own refuse so he could bring it to life.”
Melchior glanced about the table, unsure if he was being game of.
Bailey continued.
“What I suggest is that we lie low tonight, in three pairs of two and each pair keeps watch over a field of sheep. Judging by the amount of sheep he’s already killed, he must be running around enough that we should be able to catch him if he repeats himself tonight.”
“I suggest then that we watch adjacent fields” Stokes said, “That way if one pair sees this man, then the others can come to assist.”
There was a general nodding around the table.
“But” Stokes held up a bony finger. “Every one must remember to control their fire!”
“Aye” Norris agreed. “We don’t want to be shooting each other in the dark!”
“Exactly” Stokes continued. “To that end, I suggest we each carry a sabre or a similar weapon, and only use the fire arms when we are certain of the target.”
Every one nodded, but Melchior who had grown apprehensive.
“I don’t have a sabre” he replied.“We’ll find you one” Bailey told him.