A/N: Sorry for the prolonged absence, guys. I was called by other projects, involving other characters. But I'm back now, and so is Sweeney! (Forgive me for taking liberties with characters, but Sondheim did not provide certain details I need!)
Sweeney paced the shop, the body of the dead woman sprawled in front of him. He knew he had to get rid of her. He was expecting another client soon, and Lylli was bound to go to the police. "Why did I let her go?" he muttered. "I should have known she'd run to the police as soon as she got the chance. Why didn't I kill her?" He knew the reason, though. He couldn't bring himself to hurt her. In his crazed bloodlust, when she'd threatened to bring the law, he would have, but after Joanne had saved her, his bloodlust had waned. He couldn't hurt the damned girl.
The Demon Barber swore under his breath. Lylli was a girl, a child, really, alone in the world. The two of them were the only ones in this time, a disturbing coincidence that he didn't like. He could kill her easily, and be done with the problem. She was the only living person who knew of his crimes. "No," he realized. "That boy, the one who looked disturbingly like Anthony, he knows too. He came looking for answers, and I revealed too much. I'll have to kill him as well."
He'd never do it, though. In truth, his taste for blood was almost satisfied. He had lost his taste for killing. It resurfaced occasionally, but mostly, he killed methodically. He killed because he was bored, and because it was all he knew anymore. He wouldn't kill Lylli, and he wouldn't kill the Anthony look-alike, because his thirst for vengeance had been satisfied many years ago with the death of Drusilia Lovett.
He sighed, and began the task of moving the body into the old trunk. He would clean up the blood later, he reasoned, after hiding the body and getting some sleep.
o0o
"What the fuck do you mean she's dead?" Maureen was close to hysterical, and her voice was low and threatening. "My Joanne can't be dead. She's always been a survivor."
"Maureen, calm down, please." Roger was sitting on the arm of the couch, Mimi's head in his lap. "We need to hear Lyle's story before we can judge anything. She alone knows what happened."
Lylli nodded. "I went to see if I could find Toby, I didn't know he was here. We got to talking, and he went crazy. He was going to kill me."
"But he just decided to kill Joanne instead?" Maureen glared.
Lylli shook her head. "No, she saved my life. I wish she hadn't been killed, but she saved me. She fought him, giving me a chance to run. But I couldn't leave her. She heldher own well, but Sweeney got the upper hand. He pretended to collapse and…"
"And Joanne went to
his aid." Maureen shook her head. "She was always a
humanitarian."
Lylli nodded. "I never even had a chance to
warn her properly. He reached up and slit her throat. Her head was
almost severed from her neck, he sliced so deeply. I thought he was
going to come after me, but he told me to go."
Maureen sighed. "I just…I'm sorry, but I wish you had died instead of her." She fled the room in tears.
"Maureen!" Mark gasped. "That was…"
"Let her go." Lylli sighed.
"She has no right to be angry with you!" Mark protested.
"She has every right to be angry with me. She's hurt, and she is blaming the easiest target. It happened to be me."
Roger bit his lip. "We should go after here. The last thing we need is her going down to Fleet Street seeking revenge." He looked at Mark. "Damn your bosses for sending us here. This wouldn't have happened in New York."
"It might have, actually. They just picked the wrong time to send us out here. How were they supposed to know that there was a serial killer on the loose?"
"I'm not saying…" Roger stopped, realizing that he was close to yelling. "Mark, I'm not saying that they should have known about this."
"Guys!" Lylli stood up. "I'm not worried about her finding Todd. I'm more worried about what happens if she finds her way to Hyde Park."
"Why…" Roger began, but then he remember how he had found Lylli trying to make excuses to get away from a crazed-looking man. "Who was that? He seemed…well, nuts."
"Alastair Turpin. More commonly known as Judge Turpin. He's always been unstable, from stories I heard over the years. It looks as though the last hundred or so years have not been kind to him. He hasn't bathed since he died, I'd wager."
"This is still kind of weird." Mimi, who hadn't spoken up much, finally lifted her head from Roger's lap. "You know, the fact that you claim to have been born over a hundred years ago. How do we know you're not just nuts or something?"
"We have to trust her." Mark answered. "What choice do we have? She obviously knows more about this case than we do, and she can help us."
Roger nodded. "I'll go look for Maureen."
Lylli stood. "Let me come with you."
"No." Roger shook his head. "Lylli, you're exhausted, I'm sure. You've been through hell and back tonight. Please, rest."
Lylli started to argue, and then thought better of it. "Alright, you win."
Roger smiled. "Good." He faced Mimi. "I won't be all night."
"Where are you going to look?" Mimi asked.
Roger took a deep breath. "Fleet Street. I'm going to look on Fleet Street."