There was another killing only days after the new one. A prostitute this time, and again the savagery had been more ferocious than any of last year’s murders. This woman was so badly mutilated that no one could tell who she was. She was killed in the alcove where the carved statue of the Devil sat, and the whole place, even “Old Nick” himself, was covered in blood and sinews; the cobbles were slick with viscera.
“My name is Kate, by the way,” a voice said from the doorway of the smithy. Mullins turned and saw who it was. He stopped working, stood up straight, and looked at her. He was hot and annoyed and tired, but he tried his best to be polite.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“The Dolocher is back killing again,” she said.
“So I hear,” he replied.
“People think you are the one going around at night killing.”
“Some people think that,” he replied; the idea of this was still sickening to him, to the man he knew he was inside.
“I know it’s not true. You don’t have that in you,” Kate said. “And Mary has seen you and told me that it wasn't you. She said she looked into your eyes, and they couldn't be further from the eyes of her attacker.”
Mullins could feel himself blush, but he knew his face would already be red from the heat.
Kate continued: “I’ve looked at your eyes too, blacksmith, and I can see you are a good man.”
“Just because I don’t go around killing doesn’t make me a good man.”
“No, it doesn’t, but something else could.”
“And what’s that?”
“You must be the biggest and strongest man in Dublin,” Kate said, as though musing out loud.
“I think there’s bigger,” he replied.
She smiled, but this was quickly replaced by a much more serious face. “The soldiers don’t care what happens to anyone around here,” she said. “They would be happy if we were all dead.”
He nodded his agreement.
“You do care about the people who live here,” she said, and again he nodded. “You are the only one strong enough to stop the Dolocher who actually cares about stopping it.”
“What?” He wasn’t expecting this.
“The killing will just go and on if no one stops it. It seems to be smart enough to stop killing when there are more soldiers around or when groups of men roam the streets looking for it, but if you started to look at night, on your own, you might be able to find it and kill it.”
“Are you crazy? If I walk around the streets every night and there are more murders, I will surely get the blame!”
She looked sad when he said this, and this prevented him from saying any more. He waited for her to say something.
“If the Dolocher is not caught soon, then it is only a matter of time before me and probably Mary will be dead,” she said after a long pause. Mullins knew that there was no way Kate could avoid going out at night if she wanted to be able to survive. “If you do this for me, I’ll give myself to you,” she said meekly.
This stunned him. He looked at her again and, though he did not want to, he could only see how beautiful she was.
“What?”
“I could be your wife,” she said. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, and it’s not just my body you look at.”
He was sure he was blushing now, but he did his best to keep his composure. “If I ever have a wife,” he started slowly, not looking at her, “it will not be because she feels she owes me anything.”
“We all owe something to the ones we love,” was all she said before she left. Her voice had trembled as she was leaving, but he couldn’t be sure if it was from anger or because she was beginning to cry. Women truly were the most confusing creatures.