Mr Reeve had always valued Jack Toop above the other thieves who worked for him. Jack was the closest thing he had to family, but when he had got ideas above his station Mr Reeve had curtailed his ability to operate in the city. He had chased him out, so he was surprised when Jack Toop stepped into his office. While Mr Reeve’s face gave away nothing, his right hand, unseen by Jack, reached into a drawer in the desk and extracted a knife, which he kept hidden from sight.
‘Jack,’ he said. ‘Close the door behind you.’
‘Expectin’ someone else, were you?’ replied Jack.
‘You know how I work. Bazeley announces my visitors. You know that, Jack.’
‘Bazeley won’t be announcin’ no one no more.’
Mr Reeve shook his head as though dealing with a badly behaved child. ‘You’ve been doing a lot of killing recently. Careless, Jack, very careless.’
‘I was never that,’ said Jack. ‘All these years and they never caught me once. They didn’t even ’ave my name until you gave it to them.’ Jack leaned over the desk but Mr Reeve showed no sign of being intimidated.
‘I want to help you, but I can’t do that with you in London where you’re a wanted man. You get yourself up to Liverpool, I know a man who will take good care of you.’
‘I’m sure you do.’ It was the first time Jack had smiled since entering the office.
‘Don’t be like that, Jack. Sit down, won’t you?’
‘I’ll stay standin’ if you don’t mind.’ Jack stepped away from the desk and paced the room, all the time keeping his eyes on Mr Reeve. ‘When would you say it all started going wrong for me?’
‘Around about when you got caught up to your elbows in some copper’s blood,’ replied Mr Reeve. ‘And that was no one’s fault but your own. Like I said, you got careless, Jack.’
‘I killed Heale because you asked me to. You said he started askin’ for too much.’
‘I didn’t tell you to get caught.’
‘I didn’t,’ growled Jack. ‘You put Savage on to me.’
‘Savage?’
‘Yeah. I know now he’s on your books too. I know now you gave him my name and told him where I lived.’
Under the table, Mr Reeve’s knuckles went white as he tightened his grip on the knife. ‘And you tell me, Jack. Why would I want to lose you? You were always a good thief. The best, Jack. Why would I want to lose such a good thief?’
Jack drew his knife. Its handle was stained with dried blood but its blade was clean. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You tell me.’
‘Ambition is a dangerous thing,’ said Mr Reeve. ‘For years we worked well together, you and me, but then you started sniffing around my business, trying to turn my own against me, trying to steal from me, Jack.’ Mr Reeve’s voice grew louder and louder.
‘I helped build this empire of yours,’ replied Jack. ‘I been helpin’ you out all my life and yet here I was still riskin’ my neck breakin’ into ’ouses, while you sat pretty in this office, playin’ at being respectable.’
Mr Reeve nodded. ‘You wanted me out of the way, Heale wanted more money and Savage needed reminding of who was the boss. Him catching you killing Heale was the perfect solution.’
‘Except I got away.’
‘Ah, well, yes, but here’s the thing, Jack. You’ve gone and turned yourself into a celebrated murderer now. Anonymous Jack is now the Kitchen Killer.’ He laughed. ‘You’re famous, Jack. Notorious. You’re the most famous man in London and when Savage brings you in they’ll make him commissioner and he’ll owe it all to me. You see, even when you think you’re winning, you’ll still never beat me. I’m better at this than you, Jack. That’s why you’re a thief. That’s why that’s all you’ll ever be.’
Jack lunged forward, aiming his knife at Mr Reeve’s throat. Mr Reeve blocked him, stopping the knife with the flesh of his forearm. He then rammed his own knife into Jack’s stomach. With an almighty cry, Jack rolled off the desk and pulled the knife from his stomach and one from Mr Reeve’s arm. Blood gushed from both their wounds. Jack was now holding a knife in each hand. Mr Reeve stood and backed away, trying to stop the flow of blood with his hand.
‘You’re a dead man,’ said Mr Reeve. ‘Killing me won’t change that.’
‘The way I see it, there ain’t all that much difference between life and death,’ said Jack.
Mr Reeve made a bolt for the door but Jack was too quick for him. He brought him down with two knives plunged into his back. Mr Reeve’s legs buckled. Jack grabbed his chin and pulled his head back. ‘Goodbye, Mr Reeve,’ he said and he dragged Mr Reeve’s own knife across his throat. More blood, but Jack didn’t leave it there. He fell on the twitching body, and repeatedly stabbed it until it went still.
Jack stood back to admire his work. Out of his right eye he saw a translucent figure standing next to him. He turned to Mr Reeve’s ghost, enjoying the look of confusion on his face, taking pride in the fresh, bloodless wounds that covered his ghostly body.
‘Jack?’ said the ghost, its voice tinged with fear.
The sound of knocking came.
‘That’s them coming for you,’ said Mr Reeve’s ghost.
‘No, it ain’t,’ replied Jack, with a wicked grin. ‘That’s them coming for you. Go through the door, Reeve. There’s nothing left for you in this world.’
Mr Reeve looked at Jack’s wound. ‘I’ll be seeing you soon, Jack.’ The ghost turned and stepped through the Unseen Door.
Jack dropped Mr Reeve’s knife on his body and wiped his own on the side of his coat.
He heard the sound of thundering footsteps. The door swung open and Inspector Savage stepped inside. Behind him Jack could see a stairwell packed with coppers, all of them baying for blood. His blood. A couple at the top gasped as they saw the remains of the body on the ground, but Savage looked Jack squarely in the eyes.
‘Jack Toop, I’m arresting you on the charge of murder.’
Jack smiled and raised his dagger.
‘Put it down, Jack,’ said Inspector Savage. ‘The game’s over.’
‘Oh no, the game is far from over,’ replied Jack, and ever so calmly he rammed the knife into his own neck.