It wasn't too long before the noon hour struck in the bell tower of the nearby church. Lovett could not be roused, so Todd kissed her cheek, and left her snoring gently, naked on the duvet. Having spent so long in darkness, the muted sunlit room was harsh on his eyes, even with the thin shades drawn. On the bureau lay fresh clothes, folded neatly and spotlessly clean. He picked up the fine white lawn shirt and pulled it over his head, letting it fall across his muscled frame. The black silk trousers were equally fine and just as comfortable.
He checked his reflection in the mirror. His face had lost nothing of its dour forbiddingness, but now with a shaved chin and combed hair, he at least looked more respectable. Shrugging on a black vest , he made his way down the stairs, tying a black silk cravat as he went.
Johanna was having a solitary cup of tea on the ottoman, a black case lying on the table in front of her. It was an unremarkable case: cracked black leather with brass trim. But Todd recognized it immediately.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Todd," Johanna said quietly. "Mrs. Lovett won't be joining us?"
"Still abed," Todd replied, sinking back into a chair, stretching out his long legs. "I think she appreciates the luxuries more than I do. But then, I have spent so many years without comforts, I have nearly forgotten any appreciation of them."
"Well, I hope that you will be able to enjoy comforts again," Johanna said, staring down into her milky tea. "I myself am still quite unused to being mistress of my own house."
"I can't imagine Anthony is a great help," Todd said wryly.
Despite herself, Johanna let out a small chuckle. "No, he isn't. He's so brash. But it's better this way- he doesn't try to rule over me. I don't think he ever will."
"A mercy, then," Todd agreed, and then eyed the black case on the table. "Tell me, do my eyes deceive me, or is that.."
"Oh, yes!" Johanna set down her teacup and saucer, and reached for the case. "Anthony found them after your arrest."
He took the proffered case, his eyes alight with pleasure as he opened it and examined the contents.
"My razors. Thank you...for keeping them, I mean."
"They're fine tools, to be sure," Johanna said softly, watching as he reverently unfolded one of the chased silver blades.
"The finest," Todd said, staring down at them, a small smile coming to his lips. "They used to belong to my father, you know. They've been in our...that is to say, my family for generations."
"My father, I'm told, was a barber."
Todd felt himself tighten. He glanced up into the wintery face of his daughter. The flicker of hopefulness that crossed his features went unnoticed.
"Though, he died a long time ago. Drowned, they say, off the coast of Australia."
"I see." Todd said monotonously. "How very sad for you."
Johanna shrugged. "I suppose. I don't remember him at all well. All I have is part of a photograph."
She went over to a lamp stand and picked up a small photograph in a brass frame, turned and offered it to him.
Intrigued, Todd took it, his eyebrows knit as he stared down at the frame's occupant with a sense of disdain. It was half of his wedding photograph. The man who smiled up at him was skinny and weak looking, full of an earnest sincerity that was almost laughable now. The happy, self-satisfied expression reminded him of Anthony when they had first met. The man in the picture was naive and carefree, lacking the physical and mental strength he had acquired through long years of torment. Looking at the photograph was a small revelation of sorts: despite the happiness he had possessed before, despite so many regrets, he did not really want to go back to being smiling, scrawny little Benjamin Barker.
"I think your father would have been very proud of you," he said in an undertone, handing the photograph back to his daughter. "Proud that you have done better in your life than he, better than he could have ever dreamed."
"Why do you say that?" Johanna asked, bemused. She clutched the picture to her chest.
"Are you happy, Johanna?"
"I..." she frowned. "I don't know. I was happy to leave London. I think I shall be happy in the months to come. I never really thought about it."
"You're young. But not foolish. You have time." Todd's expression was unreadable. "Not like your father."
Full of confusion, Johanna stood up and returned the photograph to its stand, and then sat back down again.
"Did you know him, Mr. Todd?"
Todd's smile was a strange one, both amused and painful. "I knew him quite well, actually. He was...he used to be a good man. But he was kind when he shouldn't have been, and he lost everything." His expression darkened. "Perhaps it is better that you did not know him. Suffering can do things to the soul, turn it irreparably sour. I don't think he would be the same man. Certainly not fit to call himself your father."
Johanna's frown deepened. "I cannot believe that. I think if anything, I would not be a suitable daughter. I have done...unforgivable things. For my own survival."
"I cannot stand in judgement, Johanna," Todd said darkly, thinking of Turpin. "I will not pretend my life has been without grievous sin. I do not plan to darken your doorstep for long."
"Did you murder those people, Mr. Todd?" Johanna asked, full of a fearful desperation.
Todd cocked his head and a sickly smile crept onto his features. "You would be better off not knowing, my dear. No one is innocent. Not you, not your father, not me," he rose slowly, noting the way she drew back ever so slightly. "Certainly not the Judge, nor his Beadle. This world has no room for purity and goodness. All innocents turn guilty eventually. Do not trouble yourself with such thoughts: they will only bring you grief." Todd paused, tilted his head, a curious sadness changing his expression. "I would prefer to see you happy."
Johanna sat back in her chair, watching him with eyes full of suspicion. If she believed her instincts- and the stories- here sat a man who had glorified in violence, glutted in blood and perpetrated murder most foul. And yet, he was wishing for her happiness.
Before she could form a reply, Mrs. Lovett appeared at the parlour entrance.
"Ah, hello, dears. Miss Johanna, I must say, you have been so kind to offer us houseroom. I feel more rested than I have done in weeks."
"You're very welcome, Mrs. Lovett," Johanna breathed, trying to force down her panic. Mrs. Lovett may have been chock-full of social sweetness, but Todd's soft-spoken demeanour frightened her. It frightened her more than the Judge's attentions. Beneath the surface of his calm exterior, she could sense a malice more dangerous and intelligent than she had ever encountered. For some reason, the quiet snake-in-the-grass way in which he spoke her reminded her of the sound of murder in his voice when he had chased her out of his tonsorial parlour. Brandishing the very same straight razor that he now held clenched in his fist. She distinctly remembered the blood-stained blade as it flashed in the twilight, thirsting for her neck.
The close way in which he was studying her now made her wonder: did he recognize her?
Mrs. Lovett glanced at Todd, who made a tiny shrug.
"Pleased do sit down, Mrs. Lovett," Johanna said quickly, her voice unnaturally high.
Lovett sat down next to Todd, who looped a casual arm around her shoulders.
"Is something wrong, love?"
"I shouldn't think so," Todd said quietly, a small wicked smile crossing his lips. "We were just discussing the past. Weren't we, Johanna?"
"What? Oh, yes, the past," Johanna babbled, scandalized. "You know, I really must go down to the kitchens and see that dinner is started, it's getting so awfully late."
She leapt off the ottoman, dry washing her hands as she hurried out of the parlour.
His moment of fun now over, Todd felt a tremendous weariness overtake him. He bent over and rested his face his in his hands. Lovett wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he gripped her wrist for comfort.
"What are you thinking, my love?" she asked quietly.
"She suspects," Todd replied, lifting his head. "She knows something."
"Tell her the truth?" Lovett suggested. Todd gave her a sideways look. "That would disastrous."
"Some of the truth, then. She deserves that, don't you think?"
"She deserves better."
"Let her make up her own mind."
A week ago, Todd might've snapped at her. Instead, he smiled wistfully and pressed a soft, slow kiss to her lips. When it ended, Lovett sighed and laid her head against his shoulder. Even now, Todd marvelled at the comfort her took in her presence. Even with Lucy, he had been too astounded by his good fortune to ever quite believe she was his. And their time together had been so short. He didn't want to think of it now.
With Lovett, he had made his own luck. Now he would have to make his own luck with Johanna, before she discovered the truth on her own.
Anthony wandered into the parlour, his eyes bleary and his hair ruffled. His dressing gown sagged about the chest as he sat down.
"Where has Johanna got to, do you know?" he asked sleepily, leaning back on the couch.
"She said something about dinner," Todd offered, stroking Lovett's hair as she lazed against him.
"Dinner?" Anthony repeated blankly. "It's barely 1 o'clock."
--
The remainder of the afternoon was spent in silent lounging. When dinner finally did come around, it was a silent affair. Todd, Lovett and Anthony were mainly concerned with eating, none of them having had a proper meal for a very long time. Johanna, on the other hand, picked at her plate, studying Todd. Eating quickly, but politely, he seemed not much different than any other man. He was ambidextrous with his knife and fork, she noticed, a trait that she shared. He also nearly always kept his linen napkin clutched in his knife hand, again, one of her habits.
It brought back a vague memory from the past. One of her mother and father.
She could recall a kindly face, and hands that dwarfed her own. She remembered learning knife and fork. Mother was proud- surely little Jo-Jing was the only babe on the block who could manage herself during dinner. Papa never spoke to her as if she were a child. He would never mock her nonsense syllables, but would demurely agree with whatever she'd said.
The doorbell gave a resounding ring, shaking her from her reverie. She immediately jumped up.
"Oh, the Evening Gazette. I'll just go and get it, shall I?"
There were distracted nods of assent. Johanna made her way out of the dinning room and hastened to the front door. She paid the delivery boy and accepted the thin issue.
The Evening Gazette was something of a rag- normally concerned with society and reputations and the like, and had the paper not been free, Johanna wouldn't have bothered to subscribe. But today, the headline was different.
Demon Barber Escapes Newgate!
A shudder of dread ran through Johanna. Surely it was referring to her house guests. Glancing back in the direction of the kitchen, she hurriedly sat down and pulled open the paper.
Fleet Street Scourge Escapes with Mistress
Half past 11, London
The mysterious escape of two notorious criminals, Mr. Sweeney Todd, and Mrs. Eleanor Lovett, has been baffling the police for the past three days. The two are attributed with at least four deaths within the past few months and are thought to be responsible for countless disappearances that have been plaguing the Temple Bar area.
Little has been disclosed about Mr. Todd other than a physical description- he is approximately 201 centimetres tall, strongly built with light blue eyes and very dark hair. Mrs. Lovett, additionally, is a trim 174 centimetres tall, with red hair and hazel eyes.
Individuals with information about either Mr. Todd or Mrs. Lovett are encouraged to come forward. We respectfully remind all persons to avoid approaching either of them, as Mr. Todd is most assuredly armed and dangerous, and admitted killer of Judge Thomas Turpin. There is a 1,000 pound reward for information leading to the arrest of either felon. It is believed the pair is in Sussex region, and may be attempting to flee the country.
Quivering, Johanna set down the paper.
Admitted killer of Judge Turpin.
The rest of the report was unnerving, but lacked solidity. But admitted killer? Could the paper be exaggerating?
Johanna immediately leapt off the couch and dashed up the stairs towards the library. A collection of newspapers lay on the reading table. Full of agitation, Johanna searched through them until she came to an issue dated November. She flipped back to the crime report section.
Circuit Judge Murdered. Suspect in Custody
The body of the late Judge Thomas Turpin the Second was discovered last night in the cellar of a tenement containing Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlour and Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Shop. The two proprietors were apprehended shortly thereafter. Police reports indicate that upon their arrest, the two were found attempting to do murder upon each other. Both are believed to be involved.
The body of a transient woman was also found. Both victims were partially decapitated, each dying from aeroembolism. Both corpses were highly exsanguinated. A great deal of blood was found at the scene and on the clothing of the two suspects. Judge Turpin's body was noted to be wearing a barber's bib, a somewhat dubious indication of Mr. Todd's guilt. A barber's straight razor was deemed to be the murder weapon, but when police had returned to investigate the scene, there were none to be found. The judge is survived by his ward and heir, a Miss Johanna Barker.
No more detail than that. But it was sufficient for Johanna. She immediately got up and made for the master bedroom. Throwing open the wardrobe, she shoved aside various articles of clothing until she came to a bundled handkerchief. Wrapped inside it was an old fashioned flintlock pistol. Unexamined, it looked plain a standard issue military weapon. Had Johanna bothered to inspect it closely, she might have noticed the name inlaid with brass: Cpt. Jonathan A. Barker.
She stuffed it into a pocket in one of her pale blue skirts. Stepping onto the threshold, she cautiously made her way down the stairs. By the sound of it, dinner had concluded. From the bottom of the stairs, Johanna could see Anthony adjusting the piano lid while a delighted Lovett explored the contents of a music book.
"Johanna?"
Johanna jumped and turned to see Todd standing before her with an oddly earnest expression on his face.
"Mr. Todd, you startled me!" she exclaimed, clutching her hand against her throat.
"I apologize. I wanted to speak to you in private. Perhaps the churchyard? It's a very mild evening."
Johanna opened her mouth intending to refuse, but wound up squeaking- "All right."
As they hurriedly retrieved their coats, Todd hid a grimace of displeasure. He had expected his daughter's frenetic state to have subsided by now. It would be increasingly difficult to make any kind of case for himself if she continued to act like a skittish horse.
The walk up the hill was silent. Johanna was normally very comfortable in cemeteries. She enjoyed the company of the old stones, making up little stories in her mind about the old parish members. But with Todd beside her, the familiar Plymouth markers were morbid rather than charming.
Todd leaned back against a headstone, watching her with a catlike tilt of his head. The wind whistled through the bell tower, making the bells gently clang together. Johanna felt the pistol bump slightly against her thigh and was comforted.
Wiping the moss off the top of one of the tombstones, she sat down against it and indicated the little stone church.
"They used to pay rent to the Judge's estate. As did much of the area."
"Ah," Todd said, trying to suppress the frown of contempt that was threatening to overtake his countenance.
"Anthony and I decided to sell all that land, though and buy our own home."
"Very humble of you."
"Mr. Todd, what did you want to speak to me about?"
Todd bit his lip, a gesture that perplexed Johanna. Was he nervous?
"Do you remember your family? At all?"
"No," Johanna said frankly. "Bits and pieces of memory, but nothing more."
"Do you regret that?" Todd asked. He was stung, but made a point to hide it.
"No, I don't. Not really. I feel I should, but Mr. Todd, I've done many things I should regret, but don't."
Todd sighed. "At least you're honest."
"What does it matter, anyway?"
Todd's eyes flashed. "It matters immensely."
Startled by his sudden anger, Johanna stood up.
"I think you're lying to me. I can read, Mr. Todd," Johanna said quickly, her hand tight around the pistol.
"Have care with your words, girl," Todd warned in a low growl, rising slowly.
"You murdered those people. I know you did. The paper said you'd admitted to it."
The force of Todd's glare made her want to take a step back, but she held her ground, hand tight around the pistol.
"I was misquoted."
"It said you admitted to killing the Judge."
"Does that trouble you?"
"So you DID kill him!" Johanna accused, her voice now an angry squeak.
"Are you sorry he's dead?" Todd demanded.
"I- what? That's beside the point!"
"What is the point, Johanna?" Todd hissed, taking a step towards her. She backed into a headstone "What do you want to hear? That I killed him?" he grasped her shoulders. "That I laughed as I cleaved his neck in two with my razor, glorified in the bloodshed as his miserable evil little life spattered across my walls? Is THAT what you want to hear?"
A familiar metallic thunk met his ears, and the barrel of a flintlock pistol pressed against his chest. He looked down, and let out a small bark of laughter. For the second time in three days, a woman was aiming a pistol at him. The hilarity of the situation threatened to overtake his faculties.
"Desist, Mr. Todd." Johanna ordered, her voice breathy, the gun shaking in her hand.
"Mrs. Hope, where did you acquire that rather dangerous toy?"
"You gave it to my husband, don't you remember?"
"And do you know how to use it?" Todd asked as he sat back down on the tombstone, cocking his head to the side.
"Yes, I've used it before."
"Oh, of course, the late Mr. Fogg. I didn't think Anthony had the stomach. We've both done murder, then. Can't we be friends?" The jeer hit home. Johanna's was flushed, her expression scandalized.
"It wasn't murder!" she cried.
"Of course not, nothing's ever that simple, is it, Johanna?" Todd continued, a sick smile overtaking his countenance. "Just as killing Judge Turpin wasn't murder. It was justice."
"But there were others, Mr. Todd, do you deny that?" Johanna cried, her hand now shaking more than ever. The gun's mechanisms rattled together.
"Corrupt lawyers, men who beat their wives, pimps, cutthroats, thieves, and murderers, too. Do you think the world is any better or worse for it? You're as guilty as I am, as guilty as everyone, and shooting me won't change that."
"You had no right! It's wrong, it's still-"
Without warning, Todd seized the pistol out of her hand. Johanna let out a scream of surprise.
"GIVE THAT BACK!" she demanded, her panic threatening to give way to tantrum.
"Sit down, you ninny." Todd ordered, levelling the pistol at her. Johanna's lip twitched as she dropped down onto the moist grass.
"By God, I'll kill you," she groused, glaring up at him.
"Just like your father," Todd mocked. She bristled like an enraged cat.
"My father was NOT A MURDERER!" she shouted, struggling to get to her feet. Todd crouched down in front of her, making her drop back onto her heels. He stared at her from inches away, his eyes wide and bright. "Yes, he is."
Johanna stared back at him, full of uncomprehending horror."You're lying. You're mad."
Letting out a snort of derision, Todd held up the pistol, and then shoved it into her hands before standing up.
"Look a little closer at this."
Utterly bemused Johanna quivered with apprehension as she turned the pistol over and read the name detailed on the side. The brass lettering was dull, but by no means illegible.
Cpt. Jonathan A. Barker
Frowning, she looked back up at Todd.
"What does this mean?"
"That pistol belonged to my grandfather. It was awarded to him for bravery during his military service. He gave it to me on my 12th birthday. I was to give it to my child, be it boy or girl, on their 12th birthday. Unfortunately, I spent your 12th birthday, and every birthday previous and thereafter incarcerated at Botany Bay."
She gaped at him, trying vainly to grasp this information. He studied her closely.
"But you can't be," Johanna said slowly, more to herself than to him. "You don't look a thing like the photograph, not at all.."
"Cameras lie," Todd said, his lips twisted into an unpleasant sneer of contempt at the thought of his past persona. "But even a broken clock is right two times a day. That is a photograph of dead man. But he didn't drown. He sold his soul for the price of vengeance."
Johanna's face was shock white, and her lower lip was trembling. Todd heaved a sigh and knelt down in front of her. Immediately, she brought the pistol to bear, holding it level with his heart. Her eyes were wide with mindless terror. Todd gently grasped the barrel of the gun, unmindful of the click as she pulled back the hammer.
"I do not want your forgiveness, Johanna. I don't need your trust, and I know better than to ask for your love. But I want you to understand."
"But..." her finger was quivering over the trigger.
"Do you remember a parlour? With all green finches and linnet birds on the wallpaper? All manner of birds. You could identify them, remember? Of course, you couldn't speak yet, but you could point them all out. Do you remember feeding the birds in Hyde Park?"
Suddenly, the memory burst open in her mind, and she let out a small gasp.
The corner of Hyde Park was flooded with sunlight after a spring shower. The clouds were still a dark steely grey, but that slanted midday light pervaded the grassy arena, turning it an electric green. Johanna had little patience with the birds, who refused to approach her. That is, until Papa had shown her how to draw them in.
Papa...
He was tall, so very tall, but he had no objection to kneeling down in order to see things from her toddler point of view.
"Patience," he told her in that deep voice of his, taking a scoop of birdseed and pouring it into her chubby little palms. The wary sparrows chirped and bounced closer in the manner of birds. A particularly bold one jumped into her hand and buried his little head into the birdseed. Johanna was momentarily silent with shock, but that only lasted a beat as a giggle of childish glee escaped her. The birds all leapt into the air at once in a little brown flurry. Far from causing her dismay, this sent her into a transport of delight. Her laughter resonated as her father scooped her up into his arms, his blue eyes crinkled with amusement.
The same blue eyes that were glaring at her now from hollowed, darkened sockets. The gun dropped from her hand. Unable to speak, tears pricked in her eyes. Gently, Todd took her elbows and lifted her to her feet. He then bent down and retrieved the pistol, knocking the hammer back into its uncocked position.
"Would you like to return?" he asked softly, watching her shrewdly.
Johanna sniffed. "No. Let's walk."
Todd tucked the pistol into his belt and offered his arm. Still sniffing, Johanna took it. They made their way down the stone path, and walked towards the water.
When they arrived back at the house, Johanna and Todd found Anthony dozing lightly on the sofa, while Lovett had her nose in a copy of the Sartorial Art Journal. The latter tilted her head up to gaze up at the two. Todd was as stoic as ever, while Johanna's eyes were red. Though, she certainly seemed more restive than before.
"I was wondering when you two would get back."
"Enjoying yourself?" Todd indicated the magazine.
Lovett nodded. "I was just thinking you should do well in something a little more upper class."
"How freakishly domestic of you, Eleanor," Todd sneered. "Picking out clothes for me."
Lovett rolled her eyes and made to swat him with the magazine, but he caught it and yanked it out of her hand. Before she could open her mouth to protest, he dropped down onto the couch beside her and tugged her into his lap. Johanna covered her smile as she went over to the other sofa to wake Anthony, who was easily roused. He smiled sleepily upon seeing her face.
"Johanna, darling..." his face fell. "Have you been crying?" He glanced from her to Todd, who gave him a typical forbidding glare.
"Anthony, come upstairs. We have to talk."
Lovett watched quietly from Todd's arms, observing the energy as it shifted around the room.
"Absolutely, of course," Anthony leaned up. "It's nothing too dire, is it?"
"No, nothing too dire," Johanna said, casting a small mischievous smile at Todd, who grinned nastily. She paused on her way up the stairs and leaned down to kiss her father's smooth-shaven cheek, and then continued towards the stairs. Dreadfully confused, Anthony cast bemused looks at his wife, following her up the staircase like a bewildered puppy.
Lovett dropped her head onto Todd's shoulder, gazing up at him. "Well? How did it go?"
"Better than expected."
"Clearly."
They were immediately interrupted by a resounding exclamation from above:
"WHAT!"
Lovett looked up in the direction of the ceiling. "What are you going to do about him..?"
Todd stroked her hair, a serene smile on his face. "What any father-in-law does."
"That being?"
"Threaten to kill him."
"Ahhh."