“Over there! He’s trying to get away! Shoot him! Shoot him!” Alexander yelled at the top of his voice.
All three men began to shoot in the direction of the sound of the crashing vase. The flame patterns of the muzzles illuminated the room in periodic flashes, like streaks of lightning.
The flashes of light enabled Duff to come up behind them.
“Here I am, boys,” he said.
The three men turned toward him, but with a mighty swing of the great claymore sword, Duff decapitated the two Somerled brothers. Malcolm, who had managed to avoid the blade, pulled the trigger of his pistol, but the hammer fell on an empty chamber. He turned and ran.
Duff heard the side door open and close. He waited for a long moment, listening to see if Malcolm had actually left or if he had just opened and closed the door, pretending to leave. When he heard nothing, he turned the lights back on.
The two decapitated Somerled brothers lay on the floor, their heads a few feet away. Alexander’s head was looking up; Roderick’s head was facedown. There was a great deal of blood surrounding the two bodies and Duff knew that he was going to have his work cut out for him tonight.
The first thing he was going to have to do was get rid of the bodies. He did that by putting both bodies and their heads in a pushcart that had been part of the properties of a previous play. Dropping their guns in there as well, he pushed the cart down the alley for at least a full mile away from the theater before dumping the bodies behind a trash container.
Returning to the theater, he worked for the rest of the night cleaning the bloodstains from the floor and the cart. It was nearly dawn by the time he went home to change clothes and wash up.
When he returned to the theater the next day there was no sign of the grisly event that had happened the night before. The show went on as usual with the audience just as appreciative, and the players and theater company blissfully ignorant of the fact that two men had been killed in this very place.
It was not until the next day that the newspaper carried a story of the fate of Alexander and Roderick Somerled, though as yet the two men had not been identified, so the author of the story could only surmise as to who they were and what had happened.
From the New York Herald:
A Most Ghastly Find
The bodies of two decapitated men were found yesterday morning in the alley behind Gimlin’s Pawn Service. The two heads were found with the bodies, but officials are uncertain as to which head belongs to which body.
Charles Gimlin, proprietor of the shop behind which the bodies were found, notified the police after he discovered the bodies while taking out the trash. He says they were not there on the night before, and he is certain that he has never seen either of them. No one has yet identified the two bodies and the police say there has been no missing persons report filed that could account for the men.
One theory advanced is that they may be sailors only recently arrived and, looking for some nefarious activity, found themselves in Chinatown. Two pistols were found with the two bodies, and the theory thus advanced suggests that while in Chinatown the two men were intemperate in their behavior and in so doing made enemies of a Celestial. It is well known that a Chinaman, being heathen, will, when provoked, often cut off the head of the person who has offended him.
Police say that this being the most probable event, this case will in all likelihood never be solved as no Chinaman will tell on one of their own, and to White men, nearly all Celestials look alike.
Duff spent the next two days anticipating the return of Deputy Malcolm. He realized that the fact that Malcolm did not return right away did not mean he wasn’t going to come back. Finally, after the paper came out, Duff made up his mind. He could not stay here any longer, for to do so would endanger not only Andrew and Rosanna but the entire theater company.
Duff had no choice now; he was going to have to leave. He didn’t want to run; he liked this job. And if the danger was only to him, he would not have run. But he had already seen what had happened to Skye—she was an innocent victim who was killed only because she was too close to him.
He had no wish to see something like happen again. That’s when he told Percy Fowler, first assistant to the stage manager, to ask Andrew and Rosanna to meet him in the sets storeroom.
“You wanted to see us, Cousin Duff?” Andrew asked. Rosanna was with him.
“Yes.”
“Well, couldn’t we have picked a more comfortable place to meet?” Andrew asked. “The green room perhaps? Or my dressing room?”
“I think here is better,” Duff said. “What I have to say isn’t for anyone’s ears but the two of you, and I would not burden you with it if I did not have to.”
“Burden us?” Rosanna asked. “Burden us with what?”
“With the real truth of why I came to America.”
“I thought you said it was because Skye had been killed,” Andrew said.
“Aye, that is true,” Duff said. “She was killed by the sheriff and two of his deputies, Gillis and Nevin.”
“But I don’t understand,” Rosanna said. “Why would the sheriff and his deputies want to kill such a lovely young girl?”
“It was not she they intended to kill, but me,” Duff said. “Earlier in that same evening, I happened upon two of the sheriff’s sons, Roderick and Donald, as they were attacking Skye with the intention of having their way with her. I interrupted their scheme and, in the fight that followed, killed Donald.
“After I took Skye back to her father, I vowed to turn myself in to the sheriff and plead self-defense. Skye, wonderful girl that she was, and truly in love with me, accompanied me so that the sheriff might hear the truth of the events. She did this because she knew that Roderick would have told his father a much different story.
“While on the road to the sheriff’s office, we were set upon by Sheriff Somerled and Deputies Malcolm, Gillis, and Nevin. Without so much as a by your leave, they began shooting at us, and the bullets struck and killed Skye. In a rage, I killed both of the deputies, but the sheriff and Deputy Malcolm ran from me. I then stowed aboard a ship and made my way here.”
“And here you shall stay,” Andrew said, “for if ever there was a killing that was justified, this was it.”
“Aye, and I would have been happy to stay here for a long time. The work is good, and the company is most agreeable,” Duff said. “But two nights ago, the sheriff’s other two sons and another deputy found me here.”
“But what? How? How did they find you?” Andrew asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Where are they now?” Rosanna asked. “Well, never mind that, they have no authority here. And we can secure a good lawyer for you who will help you defend yourself.”
“The situation has grown more complicated,” Duff said.
“In what way?” Andrew asked.
“Perhaps you read the article in the paper this morning of the two bodies found in the alley some distance from here?”
“Yes,” Andrew said. “You are talking about the two men that were killed in Chinatown.”
“’Twas not Chinatown where they were killed, but right here,” Duff said.
“Here where?” Andrew asked, confused by Duff’s comment.
“Here, in the theater. The two men are Roderick and Alexander Somerled. They and Deputy Malcolm confronted me here in the theater on the night I stayed to work on the flats. They came not to arrest me, but to kill me, and they began shooting. I managed to turn out the lights and with the advantage I had in the darkness by knowing the theater, I was able to turn the tide on them. I killed the Somerled brothers, but Malcolm got away. Then, in order that I not get anyone in the theater in trouble, I moved their bodies. But as I think about it, I know that isn’t enough. Somehow Deputy Malcolm traced me here, and he can come again, and that would put the two of you in danger.”